A/N: Thank you for the reviews. You guys are great! Now enjoy summer of 1973 part 2...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling is a queen and owns everything.

Chapter 23 - 3.2 or "Just Like the Rest of Them"

Remus and Peter arrived via Floo to the Potter house the next afternoon and both found it very amusing that James's father had confiscated his wand.

"So you're telling me, after all of your big talk, after all of the grief you gave Peter, that your parents took your wand away for the summer too?" Remus asked with an air of great entertainment. The four boys were sitting on the floor of James's bedroom, filling each other in on their summers thus far. The rain from the previous evening had not let up and was lashing loudly against the windows. It was quite peaceful, really.

James scowled. "Yeah, well…I guess we were being a bit obvious about doing magic. It won't last longer than a day or two. I'm sure I can get my mum to cave soon enough."

Remus chuckled and took out his own wand, which he twirled between his fingers and studied in mock concentration. "Hmm…so of the four of us…I'm the only one that's still got his wand. Just think…I could jinx you and you couldn't do anything about it. Ah, so much power…"

James flung a pillow at his head as both Sirius and Peter laughed.

"You'd better be careful, Moony. Even without wands, I'm pretty sure the three of us could take you on."

Remus chucked the pillow back at James, who caught it easily and shoved it behind his back, cushioning himself against the wall.

"Stop calling me Moony."

"Would you prefer Wolfman?" said Sirius innocently. "Flea-bag? What about the Monthly Mongrel? That's got a nice ring to it, actually…"

"I'd prefer you shut it and not call me something that will give everyone a clue about what I am."

"No one's got a clue. You worry too much, Moony."

Remus crossed his arms and glared at Sirius as both James and Peter laughed. "You just wait. Once you lot become Animagi, I get to find a name for each of you. Flea-bag, I mean, honestly…"

"I've been practicing loads," said Peter. "I think maybe I'm starting to feel something, too."

"Oh yeah?" James asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What's it feel like?"

"Well it's only happened a couple of times. And it wasn't like the book said it would be, but I think I'm getting closer. It's like…I get to a point where I'm thinking only about how I felt after we took the potion, you know? There was a moment in my trance or whatever it was…just a moment…and it felt like…peace. And that's what I've been trying to get back to and focus on."

"And you've been able to do that?" asked Sirius, stretching out his legs and kicking away James's foot, which had inched into his space.

Peter nodded. "I think so. A few times, I've got a bit caught up in it…in that feeling, I mean…and I've felt something in my stomach…like a whoosh or a rush or something. But then it startles me and I come back to earth and lose it all."

"Whoa," said James, clearly impressed.

"That's brilliant, Peter!" said Remus. Peter suddenly seemed to be sitting much taller.

"We'd better be careful, James," joked Sirius. "Or else Peter's going to be transforming without us."

"Well, if part of the process of becoming an Animagus is being introspective and quiet, then you're definitely out of luck, Sirius," said Remus dryly.

Sirius stretched out to kick Remus's leg as well, but Remus dodged his foot and waved his wand tauntingly.

"Oh right, like you'd really do magic outside of school, Mr. I-Love-The-Rules," scoffed Sirius, smirking at the wand.

Remus flicked his wand and Sirius dove to try and avoid the spell, but none had been cast. They all laughed loudly at the irked expression on Sirius's face as he straightened back up.

"Yes," said Remus, pocketing his wand once more. "Because you know me…I never break the rules…haven't broken a single school rule since meeting you lot…"

"It seems we've been rubbing off on the poor boy, Sirius," James said in mock concern.

"Yes, his mother must be so disappointed. Imagine what she'll say when he gets chucked in Azkaban for doing underage magic."

All of them laughed, Remus included, thrilled to be in each other's presence once more.

By the next day, the rain had cleared and had left behind a heavy, humid heat, so the four boys trekked to the lake after lunch, where James and Sirius introduced Remus and Peter to the Muggle girls, who seemed annoyed to have to share their attention with two additional people. Neither James nor Sirius cared much, and they bid their farewells early, spending most of the day teaching a very nervous Peter how to swim. By the time they made their way home, Peter was able to awkwardly swim the length of the lake, though he had outright refused to jump into the water from the trees, opting instead to cheer them on from the safety of the shore.

Sirius woke up early the following morning and, not wanting to wake Remus, who was kipping on a camp bed in the room with him, grabbed one of his Muggle magazines off the bedside table and crept downstairs to find breakfast. The sun was low in the sky, but blindingly bright, and the birds were singing so loudly that Sirius found it remarkable that anyone could sleep through the noise. He walked into the kitchen, assuming it would be empty, and found James's father sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Mr. Potter looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet when Sirius entered.

"Good morning, Sirius," he said cheerfully. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," he said, feeling awkward. "Er, is it all right if I join you?"

Mr. Potter smiled and adjusted his paper so that it took up less of the table surface. "Of course. Would you like some breakfast?"

Flora had appeared at his side upon his entrance and was blinking happily up at him as Sirius sat down. "Yeah, I'd love some toast, Flora, if you don't mind."

"No sir, not at all. With the blackberry jam that you like, sir?"

"Yes, please, and –"

"Some juice too, sir?" she finished for him, a toothy smile overtaking her wrinkled face. "The fresh squeezed kind you had yesterday?"

"That'd be great. Thanks Flora."

The elf hurried off and Mr. Potter chuckled lightly. "She must really like you, Sirius. She normally only offers the fresh-squeezed juice to James."

"She and Ant are so nice," said Sirius.

He nodded and took a sip of his tea. "Flora's been with me since I was a child…she and Vorren – that was Ant's father – but he passed away when James was young. Old age. It was as bad as losing a family member."

"We have a house elf named Kreacher," Sirius told him. "He's obsessed with my mum so he hates me. I never knew elves could be so friendly until I met yours and a few of the Hogwarts elves…"

Mr. Potter gave a light chuckle. "Found the kitchens, then, have you?"

"Oh," Sirius said, shifting in his seat and realizing his slip. "Er…I've just run into a few of them now and again in different parts of the castle…" It wasn't a lie, per se, but he could tell Mr. Potter wasn't fooled. Luckily, they were interrupted by Flora, who had returned with Sirius's toast and juice.

"Is there anything else I can bring for you, sir?"

"No thanks, Flora, this is perfect."

The elf bowed low to them before leaving. Mr. Potter had thankfully let the Hogwarts kitchen discussion drop and had turned back to the Prophet, so Sirius opened his magazine and began munching on his toast. He was reading all about a new motorbike that had come out in America when a thought occurred to him.

"Mr. Potter?" he asked, and Mr. Potter looked up at him expectantly. "Er, you own a car, right?"

"Yes. Apparating at our age isn't good for the bones, so we've owned our car for years. Why do you ask?"

"Well, have you ever had a motorbike?"

Mr. Potter chuckled and took another sip of his tea before answering. "No, I don't think James's mother would like that very much. And I'm a little old for thrills like that, to tell you the truth. Why do you ask?"

"I think I'd like one," Sirius said, his eyes scanning back over the photo of the gleaming motorbike in the article he was reading. "But I've never known anyone to have one. I mean, they're for Muggles, aren't they?"

Mr. Potter pondered this. "I guess technically, yes, they are for Muggles. But so were cars originally and wizards have been using those for decades. They're handy, like I said, for people who can't Apparate or Floo easily, like older folk or parents with small children."

"So you think it's okay, then? For wizards to have Muggle things?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it. If you want a motorbike, Sirius, maybe you can get one when you're of age." He was looking at Sirius closely, a small smile on his lips. Suddenly uncomfortable, Sirius broke his gaze and took another bite of toast. "James mentioned that the two of you signed up to take Muggle Studies next term."

This, of course, would have been a sore spot for most pureblood parents who Sirius knew, and as open-minded as the Potters seemed, he wasn't sure how they would react to that information. Sirius swallowed down the bite of toast and straightened his back instinctively against the chair. "Yes, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir,' Sirius."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"What made you want to take Muggle Studies?"

He didn't seem cross at the idea, at least. "I've never known anything about Muggles, so I thought it would be interesting." Sirius, shrugged and then added, before he could stop himself, "Plus I knew it would annoy my mother the most."

Mr. Potter's lips twitched at this. "Well, at first I wasn't pleased when James told me. You know, Muggle Studies is sometimes considered a soft option and I was thinking his time may be put to better use in Arithmancy. But the more I thought about it, the more I think it will be good for him. He hasn't had a lot of interactions with Muggles…sometimes I regret not sending him to Muggle primary school before Hogwarts."

"James knows loads more about Muggles than I do," said Sirius, thinking back to the conversation they had by the lake a few weeks ago. "I had never really talked to a Muggle before this summer."

Mr. Potter looked at him sharply. "You two have been talking to Muggles?"

"Er, yes, at the lake. We made a few Muggle friends." He swallowed, wondering if he had inadvertently let evidence of their wrongdoing slip for a second time that morning. "Were we not supposed to?"

"No, that's fine," Mr. Potter said. "As long as you're careful about what you say to them. It can be hard, I know, to keep so much of your life a secret when you're friends with Muggles."

"It's not too hard," said Sirius, relaxing now that Mr. Potter did not seem remotely angry about any of it. "They're a lot like witches, really. Once we get them talking about themselves, they forget to ask us questions."

"They're girls then, these Muggles?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, picking at the crust of his toast. "We've chatted with them a few times, but like I said, they don't really ask us too many questions."

Mr. Potter's smile was at once knowing and curious. "Well, be careful is all I can say. The Statute of Secrecy is not something to be taken lightly. I know you and James don't set much store by the rules…"

"We'll be careful," said Sirius without hesitation. "It's fun talking to them, but we wouldn't ever say anything about Hogwarts or magic."

Mr. Potter finished the last of his tea and leaned back in his chair, still surveying Sirius, who was reminded of his encounter with Dumbledore on the Quidditch pitch, and the way the headmaster's eyes had seemed to travel straight through him. "You're a funny kid, Sirius. And you're a good friend to James. You're always welcome here, I want you to know."

"Thanks," said Sirius, feeling honored. "I really like it here."

"Well consider this an open invitation to visit over the holidays, whenever you'd like."

Mr. Potter smiled at him and then went back to his paper. Sirius felt a warmth spread in his chest, realizing that he had never felt so welcome anywhere as he did at that moment.

"My sister's having a party tonight, and she said I could invite some friends if it meant I wouldn't tell our parents."

The boys had spent another afternoon at the lake and had stopped by the beach to say hello to Elizabeth and Maria before setting out for home.

"Oh yeah?" asked James with interest. Peter and Remus were hanging back a few steps, still not entirely comfortable talking to the Muggle girls.

"You should come," Maria told Sirius, who could not muster up too much excitement at the idea, as he had started to find the girls a bit boring in recent days.

"Definitely," agreed Elizabeth, smiling at James. "And you can bring your mates. There'll be loads of people, I'm sure."

"We'll try," said James noncommittally, glancing at Sirius, who shrugged back at him.

"Well it'll probably be the biggest party of the summer, so you don't want to miss it, if you can help it. Our house is the old farm house on Highland Street, on the other side of the church. You know where that is?"

"Yeah, I know where that is," said James.

"Good. Starts at sundown. Hope to see you there."

The boys made their goodbyes and started off around the lake, back toward the Potters' house.

"What do you reckon?" James asked them once they were out of earshot.

"Have you ever been to a Muggle party?" asked Peter, swatting at a mosquito that was buzzing around his face.

"Well you know I haven't," muttered Sirius.

"Nope," said James.

"I have," Remus said. They all turned and looked at him, Peter stumbling a bit over a gnarled root. "I mean, not like this one's probably going to be. But I've been to family parties, you know, cousins' birthdays and the like."

"So what do you think, Mr. Apparently-I'm-a-Rebel-Now-and-Love-to-Break-Rules?" said James, shoving Remus in the shoulder. "Should we give it a shot? My parents are having the Boneses for dinner tonight; they probably won't notice if we sneak out."

"The Boneses?" asked Peter. "Is Stu coming?"

"Nah, it'll just be Stu and Eddie's grandparents. No fun for us, let me tell you…" He paused and looked back at all of them again. "So should we go?"

Much to all their surprise, it was Remus who answered with a shrug. "If you want. It could be interesting, at least."

"Ha!" said James, jumping triumphantly in the air. "I told you, Sirius, we've been a bad influence on him."

Something stirred within Sirius, something that he could not remember ever feeling before, and he realized that for the first time in his life, he was hesitant to break the rules. He didn't want to jeopardize his welcome place in the Potter household. He would never admit that to his friends, though, not when Remus and even Peter seemed so amenable to the rule-breaking.

By that evening, though, Sirius's hesitancy had been trumped by both an excited curiosity and a slight vindictive pleasure at the thought of what his parents would do if they knew he was going to a Muggle party. James's parents were entertaining George and Abigail Bones for dinner on the back terrace, and had paid the four boys little attention when they had claimed they were turning in early for bed. By the time night had completely fallen, with the stars twinkling in an otherwise clear sky and the crickets orchestrating their nightly chorus, the four boys were all sequestered in James's bedroom, each clutching one of James's old and unused broomsticks.

"Okay," James said, pacing in front of the other three as if preparing them for battle. "You can follow me, just remember to fly left out of the window, or else you'll be seen from the back of the house, and my parents are still out there. Once we get round to the front, we can stash the brooms in those hedges on the edge of the path and walk from there."

There was a familiar thrill of impending rebellion fluttering in Sirius's stomach as he watched James move to open the window. One hand still holding his broom, James grasped the elaborately adorned silver handle and turned it. A loud creak echoed around the room and they all froze, listening hard. After a moment's pause, James pushed and the window cracked open with a low, protesting groan from the hinges. Once again, James froze and they all held their breaths as the voices of the adults floated up to them from the terrace; once they were satisfied that no one below had heard the window open, James began pushing it again, painstakingly slowly to keep the hinges from creaking.

"…and I have to say, I never thought I'd see Dumbledore this worried again, not since all that business with Grindelwald so long ago…"

With the window now half open, they could hear the conversation that drifted up from the terrace. The mention of Dumbledore caused them all to exchange curious glances and James stopped in his endeavor to listen harder.

"It doesn't surprise me that he's worried," came James's father's voice. "There have been some strange happenings the last few years, we've all noticed it. We've all been affected."

"And now, with Caius Doge having up and disappeared…"

"You really think it's foul-play?" asked James's mother. "There's no chance he just wandered off? I mean to say, he's getting up there in age…"

"Aren't we all?" said the gravelly voiced Mr. Bones and there was a smattering of chuckles.

Mrs. Bones's voice sounded low and anxious when she spoke. "It's been a week since Caius went missing and Elphias is certainly worried…says that even despite his age, Caius has always been sharp as a knarl quill. And you know how close Elphias and Dumbledore are…"

"Dumbledore came round our house a few days after Caius disappeared," said Mr. Bones.

"Did he?" asked James's father, sounding interested.

"He wanted to know if we had seen anything strange, but we haven't talked to Caius in months. He didn't stay long, but a few things he mentioned made us think that he's worried…and that he's starting to act."

"Yes," James's mother sighed. "We thought he might be."

"He's gathering supporters, from as far as we can tell. Those of us who would stand up to it, form a resistance movement of sorts," said Mr. Bones.

Sirius glanced at his friends, all of whom were now crowded closely around the half-open window, listening hard. Here again was talk of some sort of impending clash that none of them could seem to understand.

"I am assuming you indicated you would join him?" asked Mrs. Potter.

"We insinuated as much, though he knows that our fighting days are long behind us. We'd be able to help him with resources – gold, useful Ministry connections." Mr. Bones paused briefly before adding, "I wouldn't be surprised if he reached out to the two of you soon for similar allegiances."

Sirius saw James frown in the dim light, clearly wondering why Dumbledore would be reaching out to his parents.

"We should go," Peter whispered nervously, but James waved him off.

"…and as you said, George," James's father was saying, "none of us is young and spry anymore. If he's looking for fighters, we'll not be much help."

"Ah, Fleamont," said Mr. Bones, suddenly sounding more lighthearted, "you know you were always the best dueler in our year."

They heard Mr. Potter chuckle and say, "That was a long, long time ago, old friend."

"I have to say," said Mr. Bones after a few moments where all they could hear was the tinkling of forks on the dinnerware, "I was surprised when you mentioned that you were housing the Black boy again for the summer."

Sirius felt his breath catch in his throat as the other three turned to look at him.

"He and James are good friends," said Mrs. Potter easily. "And he's really a very sweet boy."

"Are you sure there's not more to the story?" said Mr. Bones, and Sirius could barely hear what they were saying over the blood pumping in his ears.

"More to the story?" echoed Mrs. Potter.

"The Blacks are notorious supporters of the Dark Arts, Euphemia," said Mr. Bones. "I don't need to tell you that. I'm sure many of them have already sided up, and if they haven't, it won't be long now."

"Yes, well, we did have concerns originally about the friendship," said Mr. Potter, "but we've both spent time with Sirius and somehow, perhaps even extraordinarily, he seems to have escaped the warped disposition of the rest of his family. He's a good lad."

"Stuart said something similar," said Mrs. Bones, "but they're still so young…"

"Yes, he's only – what – thirteen? I'd be cautious if they stay friends, Fleamont. Chances are he'll turn out just like the rest of them."

Sirius felt like he was being suffocated by the eyes of his friends. Avoiding Remus and Peter's stares, he looked directly at James and said, quietly but forcefully, "Can we go now?"

James said nothing but immediately turned and finished pushing open the window. The conversation continued from the terrace, but Sirius blocked it out, his ears pulsing with his own rage and embarrassment. Once the window was fully open, James mounted his broomstick and flew silently out of it and Sirius did not waste a second before following him. They skirted the edge of the house and landed gingerly on the front lawn, Remus and Peter touching down moments after them, both still stealing furtive glances at Sirius. No one spoke until after they had stashed their brooms under the hedges that lined the garden path and had made their way halfway down the dark street.

Sirius didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Would there ever be a time when this perception of him changed? How long would it take before people didn't automatically assume he was just another twisted Black satisfied with the comforts and status that his family name could bring him? Would he ever get past the rage that consumed him when people assumed the worst of him just because of his last name?

He kicked a stone along the street and walked quickly, despite not knowing entirely where he was going. James hurried along beside him with Remus and Peter trailing a few steps behind.

"Don't listen to them, mate," James said. "They don't know what they're talking about."

Sirius made a low, indistinct noise in his throat but said nothing.

"Look," James continued when he realized that Sirius wasn't going to respond, "I've known the Boneses my whole life – they're my parents' best friends. They're good people, but they're a little set in their ways, you know? I'm sure if they spent time with you, they'd –"

"It's fine, James," Sirius cut in, wanting desperately for him to stop talking.

"No, it's not fine. It's rubbish, what they said. If they knew you, they'd figure it out straight away."

Something about this statement seemed to trigger an eruption within Sirius, and he stopped walking underneath a flickering streetlamp and turned to look at James, furious.

"So what am I supposed to do, eh?" he shouted, ignoring Peter who had walked right into him when he had stopped so abruptly. "What – am I supposed to go around and meet every single bloody person who's ever heard of the Blacks and convince them that I'm not some bigoted nutter like the rest of my sodding family? Maybe this is on them, not me! Maybe they should actually meet a person before they assume he's doomed to be nothing more than evil, worthless scum!"

"They didn't say that, Sirius," said James sharply, his glasses reflecting the orange light flickering above them.

"Why are you defending them?" Sirius yelled, not knowing why he was shouting at James but knowing that it felt good to yell. There was nothing around to punch, after all.

"Why are you taking this out on me, you idiot?" James yelled back.

"Sirius," Remus said slowly, taking a step between the pair of them. "I get why you're angry. I understand –"

"Don't say you understand. You don't understand," Sirius snarled, turning on Remus.

Remus, though, stood his ground and said in a low, calm voice, "Don't I?"

It took only a moment of staring at one another before some of Sirius's rage was doused by quickly mounting remorse.

Remus did not falter, though. "I know what it's like to have a part of you that every single person you meet might judge you on. You think you're the only one who's ever heard someone talking about you? About what you'll become?"

"No – I didn't mean –"

"All you can do is to try and prove them wrong," Remus cut across him. "That's all any of us can do. To – to keep trying to make an impact and to hope it's a good one."

Exhaling loudly and feeling stupid, Sirius looked up at the flickering streetlamp and then kicked at another loose pebble on the pavement before gazing back at Remus.

"When did you stop being so stutter-y and get to be so wise?" Sirius asked, trying to keep his tone light to cover the bitterness that was still stuck in his throat.

Even in the dim, orange light of the lamp, Remus's flush was evident. He grinned sheepishly. "I've always been wise, you've just been too stupid to pay attention."

Sirius snorted, James let out a sort of breathy chuckle, and Peter gave a nervous giggle. They all turned and started walking again, the tension left behind underneath the streetlamp.

"Well," said James, "I definitely took one thing away from my parents' conversation."

"What's that?" said Sirius, feeling stupider with every step for having yelled at his friends.

"That my mum clearly doesn't know you at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Peter.

"Didn't you hear her? She called Sirius a very sweet boy. I mean, has she even met this git?"

Remus and Peter both laughed loudly as Sirius shoved James off the pavement and into the street. "Shut it, Fleamont."

As they turned down a side street that was much darker than the one they had just been on, the others began trying to decipher the meaning of the rest of the conversation they had overheard, but Sirius only half-listened. He was still angry at what Mr. Bones had said about him, but now on top of that, he was angry at himself for having yelled at his friends – his friends who had never once judged him because of his name.

After about fifteen more minutes of walking, they turned down a gravel lane and passed a small, country church, at which point they could hear music playing in the distance. It was the music, more than anything, that caused Sirius to remember where they were going, and for the first time, he became excited by the thought. What would his parents say – heck, what would that Mr. Bones say – if they knew he was going to a Muggle party, had been talking to Muggles on numerous occasions, had made friends with a Muggle girl who blushed whenever he looked at her? He hurried his pace toward the farmhouse that had just come into view on the other side of the church.

There was no doubt that they were in the right place. The farmhouse sat back from the street, isolated from any other houses by the vast amount of land on which it was nestled. From the front, they could hear the music more distinctly, mingled with a hum of chatter and shouts of laughter that drifted toward them from the back. The four boys walked up the dirt lane that skirted around the side of the house, past several older kids who were perched on a rickety fence but who did not give them a second glance. Around the back, they found a mass of people, many of whom were grouped around a large bonfire despite the heat of the night. The music was blaring from an elaborate Muggle contraption that could be seen just inside the doorway that led into the house. The fire illuminated their surroundings in a flickering, smoky haze, though in the distance they could see Muggles holding thick cylinders, from which white beams of light were gleaming.

"What are those?" Sirius asked in awe.

Remus followed his eyes. "Electric torches. Muggle versions of Lumos."

Sirius stared at them for a moment in fascination before turning his eyes back to the scene around them, a nervous excitement flooding through him. There were dozens of Muggle teenagers, most a few years older than them, strewn about the yard, taking advantage of the freedom afforded to them by the lack of adults – dancing, smoking, chatting each other up, passing around half-full bottles of mysterious liquids. The fire roared, centering the scene, reaching high enough that Sirius had to crane his neck to see the top of the flames spitting toward the star-specked sky.

"You made it!" came a squeal from somewhere near the house.

They all turned to see Elizabeth hurrying toward them, Maria and a small band of similarly-aged friends trailing after her.

"Glad you could come," she said once she had sidled up next to James. "Wasn't too hard to find, right? Well, here, let me introduce you to some of our mates – they came over from Woodsworth just for the party."

Elizabeth's face was shining in the light of the fire, and she was talking much faster than Sirius had ever heard her speak, though from nerves or excitement, he wasn't sure. She proceeded to introduce them to the group so quickly that Sirius did not even attempt to remember any of their names and while they all said hello and nodded in turn, the two boys in the pack did not seem overly excited to be meeting the four of them.

"You want something to drink? I doubt we could snag any of the rum, maybe we could get our hands on some of the beer… Where's my sister? If she catches me drinking, she'll kill me – but there's some other drinks over there –"

"Er, no," said Sirius, looking at James with raised eyebrows before smiling at her. "I think we're okay for now."

"Great! Well let's get away from the fire, it's so bloody hot standing here, come on…" She grabbed James's hand and led them all over to a patch of land just outside the ring of light that was being cast by the fire. Two sizable wooden logs and a few rickety chairs had just been vacated by an assembly of loud boys, and the group took up residence on them.

It was a very surreal experience, socializing with a large group of Muggles like this. Elizabeth began an unceasing stream of chatter in James's ear off as soon as they had sat down, and while the rest of the group fell into easy conversation, Sirius sat on one of the logs with Remus and Peter, feeling distinctly awkward and unlike himself. After a while, the three of them began quietly commenting to each other on James's inability to escape Elizabeth's grasp, and it was only when they started sniggering at the trapped look on James's face that Sirius began to feel comfortable again.

"Can I sit?" Sirius looked up to find Maria standing over him with one of the girls he had been introduced to by the fire. He scooted over on the log to make room for her and she squeezed in next to him; her friend, who had curly reddish hair, moved over and started talking to Remus and Peter.

"Sorry about Liz," Maria said, her eyes focused on where Elizabeth still sat, keeping up an unbroken stream of prattle without pausing to take a breath. "She was really nervous about tonight, I think."

Sirius, momentarily distracted by the way her leg was pressed up against his on the log, just shrugged. "This is her house, then?"

Maria nodded and picked up a stick from the ground, which she started breaking apart nervously. "Yeah, she and Kate live here. Their parents are farmers…not like, cows or whatever…some sort of grain, or something. I don't know… Not that exciting, but my dad's an accountant, so who am I to judge?"

From the other side of him, Sirius could now hear Peter stuttering in conversation with the curly-haired girl and he fought not to laugh at the overall strangeness of this entire experience.

"Sirius, are you listening? Hello?"

"Oh, sorry," he said, turning back to Maria. "Er – what were you saying?"

She looked slightly annoyed that he was not enthralled by her presence, but when he smiled at her, he could see her blush even in the dim light. "That's okay. I asked what your parents do for work?"

He stared at her, thinking fast. She knew nothing about his family, had no preconceived notions about his last name, and he saw a wonderful freedom of opportunity before him.

"Oh, my parents are dead."

She gaped at him. "What?"

"Yeah," he lied easily. "Died right after I was born. I live with my uncle in London. He's a real good chap…works in the government – works with the Minister –"

"The Minister? Your uncle works with the Prime Minister?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Sure." Sirius shrugged, and then, inventing wildly, "He travels a lot though, so usually it's just me on my own when I'm not away at school. It's brilliant…I can eat what I want, leave when I want, see friends when I want, explore the city…"

"Wow," breathed Maria, as if Sirius had just told her he was heir to a throne. "You've certainly kept all that quiet."

He shrugged again as if this was of no real importance and looked around casually, surprised to see that James and Elizabeth were no longer seated near them.

"Hey, where'd they go?" he asked, nodding toward the empty chairs.

Maria looked around. "Don't know. I'm sure they'll be back."

Something was building in his chest now, and he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. There was a lingering, hollow anger in his stomach still from what they had overheard Mr. Bones saying about him, which was currently mingling with the sense of freedom that no one there – aside from James, Remus, and Peter, of course – knew anything about him, or, indeed, needed ever to even see him again. He knew what he had dared James to do, knew that James, like him, would never back down from a dare, knew that James was undoubtedly taking this opportunity to kiss Elizabeth, if for no other reason than to show Sirius he could. And suddenly, Sirius wanted to prove that he could, too.

"You want to show me around?" he said to Maria. "Maybe we'll run into James and Elizabeth."

"Okay," she said, nodding and grabbing one of those metal cylinder things – electric torches, Remus had called them – from the ground as they stood up. Sirius shot Remus and Peter (both who seemed rather entranced by the curly-haired friend) a grin before following Maria back around the bonfire and toward the side of the house, where the music was slightly muffled and the light from the fire now only intermittent flickers on the dark ground.

Sirius stared with fascination when Maria flicked on the torch and he had to restrain himself to keep from asking how it worked. A straight, white beam of light extended from the tip of it, illuminating a small circle of grass in front of them; she pointed the light in his face and laughed when he winced against the brightness.

They walked around the perimeter of the house, Maria commenting on things here and there, but Sirius was solely focused on the task in front of him, unsure of how best to approach it. The times when he had kissed Gin, he had just gone for it, had not even thought about it beforehand. And the fact was, he knew Gin better than he knew Maria. Gin was not shy or nervous like Maria was, though, to be fair, Maria had certainly acted as though she fancied Sirius much more than Gin had ever let on.

They stopped around the far side of the house, next to an old wooden fence, and Maria was pointing something out in the distance, but Sirius was not listening. Sick of thinking about it, he took her hand and she cut off at once, looking at him expectantly, the torch now hanging by her side, illuminating their feet in the grass.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked bluntly, throwing caution to the wind.

She giggled and looked away and he waited for an answer, the heat rising in his face, already feeling the preemptive mortification of her denying him, but then she gave him a quick nod. Assuming this was as good of a yes as he was going to get from her, he stepped forward and pressed his lips against hers.

His first thought was that her lips were not as soft as Gin's, but perhaps that was because she was holding them together very tightly, her entire body tense and stock still. It took a few seconds, but eventually she started to loosen, to relax into him, even to go so far as to stick her tongue in his mouth. They stood there kissing for several minutes before she pulled away from him, looking at him in the darkness, an excited smile visible on her face.

"I really like you, Sirius," she said very fast in a breathless voice, as if she had been saving up all of her nerve to utter those five words.

"I like you too," he said, knowing that this was not entirely true, that he would be perfectly content if he never saw this girl again, but knowing instinctively that this was what you were supposed to say to a girl who had just put her tongue in your mouth.

Even in the darkness, he could see the gleam of her teeth as she gave him a huge smile before leaning in and kissing him again. No, he did not have any particularly strong feelings about her, but he also did not NOT like her, and it was thrilling, standing there kissing her in the darkness, thinking with a bitter pleasure that no one who knew his family would expect him to be kissing a Muggle – plus she was a very cute Muggle on top of that.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there together – time seemed to move in funny ways when you were snogging someone, after all – but eventually they made their way back to where their friends were still sitting on the outskirts of the ring of light cast by the roaring fire. James and Elizabeth had returned, James's hair somehow untidier than usual, and he gave Sirius a broad smirk and a thumb's up when Elizabeth wasn't looking, to which Sirius responded with a proud grin of his own. It was not long after this that they bade their goodbyes, ensuring the girls that they would do their very best to get to the lake the following day, though privately Sirius thought that he may have done enough swimming for the summer.

"So," said Sirius, once they had made their way down the long driveway and turned back onto the gravel covered street. "How was it?"

"Er," James said, clearly pondering the question. "Aggressive."

They all laughed, perhaps a bit louder than normal in their exuberance.

"How'd you do it?" Peter asked, seemingly fascinated.

James shrugged nonchalantly, though his gait was a bit bouncier than usual. "It wasn't very hard to be honest. She said she wanted to go get a drink and then she just kind of jumped on me."

"And you, Sirius?" Remus asked as they turned down the main road that led back to James's house. "You snogged that Maria girl, I'm assuming?"

Sirius gave them all a scandalized look. "Me? A Black? Snog a Muggle? Really, Remus, what would people say?"

"That you're a git?" suggested James as they all laughed. "I dunno, mate, I think I prefer Hogwarts girls."

Their ribbing and laughter followed them up the dark street, all of them feeling very pleased with themselves in light of the night's events and their youthful rebellion, but none of them more so than Sirius. He would kiss all the Muggles he could get his lips on, he thought wryly, if it proved that Mr. Bones wrong about him.