James Potter stood frozen in his bedroom, a sealed letter in his hands. He stared at the name written on the scroll. It was hurriedly scribbled in blotchy ink and smudged with heavy raindrops, but James still recognized the handwriting and felt a jolt in his stomach - half excitement, half worry - at the thought that it was from his best friend, Sirius Black.
Write back quickly,
Padfoot.
James scanned the letter, still glued to the spot. Sirius had left home? He had done magic? The Ministry would be after him; Sirius didn't exactly have a clean record. James felt a horrible wave of panic spread over him. Sirius was forever causing chaos, receiving the occasional Ministry Warning, but this felt different. James forced himself out of his paralysis and moved quickly to his desk, grabbing a quill, and hastily scribbled a message on the back of Sirius's note.
Course you can stay. Come here right away - just Apparate, you've already done magic, what harm will a bit more do? If the Ministry reach you first,
DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND!
Prongs
James tied the scroll of parchment back around his owl's leg and threw it unceremoniously out of the window and into the night. James leant on the sill, watching the owl until it became nothing more than a tiny black speck upon the horizon. What if James's letter didn't reach him in time? What if the Ministry got to Sirius first? James shook himself mentally; he was being stupid. Sirius could take care of himself in face of the Ministry…but could he in face of the Blacks?
James shut the window with a snap, turning his back on it. He stood still, listening with all his might to hear the crack of Sirius's Apparition. He stood staring at the clock, which seemed to be moving unnaturally slow, every fibre of his body hoping, praying for the sound announcing his best friend's arrival. Then he heard it. A faint crack from somewhere downstairs, followed by muffled cursing. James sprinted out onto the landing and leapt down the stairs, three at a time.
"Sirius?" James hissed, following the sound of the cursing, "Padfoot, is that you?"
"You bet your bloody antlers it's me, mate," came Sirius's low voice from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.
James sprinted across the living room and threw open the door to the kitchen. Sirius had been hopping on one foot, swearing under his breath at a large trunk that lay near by, when James had entered the room, but his usual mischievous grin cracked across his face the moment he spotted James. Sirius looked terrible. He was wearing robes that James guessed to be deep green but for all the soot, mud and filth on them they could have been black. James could see shallow cuts and grazes beneath rips in Sirius's clothing, and he had a vivid black bruise rising around his left eye.
In one swift movement James crossed the room and greeted his friend with a rough embrace.
"Are you okay?" James asked urgently, letting go of Sirius and standing back a pace or two, "Any sign of the Ministry?'
"Nope, not yet," said Sirius, grinning.
"Are you okay?" James repeated.
"Okay? I'm bloody brilliant!" said Sirius, letting out a bark of laughter, "I'm never going back to that place again. I'm out of there for good!"
"What happened?" James asked.
"My family happened, that's what," said Sirius, suddenly bitter, "My family, and their stupid pure-blood mania. We had a fight. It started about Mum's cousin, Araminta, but of course everything got dragged into it in the end. There was an article in the Prophet this morning about the Ministry Bill she wants passed to make Muggle-hunting legal. Well my dear old mum was ecstatic of course, even though the Prophet was writing against Araminta. Mum's convinced it'll get the Bill a bit of publicity, you know - get Araminta some support. She was ranting about it all morning."
"You should've just ignored her," said James.
"I did, Prongs, believe me I did!" Sirius insisted. "But then my dear old father came in and thought he'd have a go too. I don't think he even knew what the fight was about, but he got in there. He started yelling about how I was a shame to the name of Black. He reckons that I should take a leaf out of Regulus’ book, and that I need to learn that Muggle-borns are about as welcome in our world as Muggles themselves. He gave me this," said Sirius bitterly, gesturing at his blackened left eye, "And then Regulus came in, and you know what he's like about all that. He joined the rant and I couldn't ignore him, Prongs, you should've heard what he was saying. He wasn't just saying that Araminta was right, he went a step further. I'm not even sure my mother would have said those things out loud, but of course she didn't say anything to shut Regulus up; if he was against me then she was on his side, as far as she was concerned."
"So what did Regulus say?"
"Well…" Sirius muttered awkwardly, avoiding James's eye, "he said that - er - that everyone who - who isn't pure blood should be…exterminated."
James felt his jaw drop. He stared at Sirius, but his friend gave no sign that he was joking.
"You're kidding," James breathed.
"Nope. Not kidding," said Sirius seriously. James swore loudly. "Yeah," Sirius agreed, "that’s pretty much what I said. So, naturally I reacted as any normal wizard would, and beat the living -"
"Sirius!"
James and Sirius whipped round to face the door. A small woman with greying dark hair and a very kind smile was standing in the threshold, wearing a fluffy dressing gown and matching slippers. Dorea Potter crossed the room and gave Sirius a quick hug, before holding him at arms length and looking him up and down.
"What's happened to you, Sirius?" she asked anxiously.
"Oh, nothing, I'm fine," Sirius lied, "Sorry about this, Mrs. Potter, I -"
"Mum, is it okay if Sirius stays with us for a bit?" James cut in. "Only he's had a - er…." he glanced at Sirius for support.
"I'm going through a kind of - er - rough patch, with my parents at the moment. I'm really sorry about this, Mrs. Potter, but I -"
"I said that Sirius could stay with us for a bit, Mum," James finished in what he hoped to be an innocently confident voice.
"Of course he can!" Mrs. Potter burst out, hurrying forward and hugging Sirius again. Sirius stayed routed to the spot in shock.
"Are - are you sure?" he stammered.
"Of course I am," Mrs. Potter said kindly, smiling up at him; he was at least six inches taller than she was. "You know you're always welcome here, Sirius, any time. I'll just go and set you up a bed."
"Oh - no - it's fine, Mrs. Potter, I'll just stay tonight - I don't need anything -" Sirius protested.
"No, no, you stay here as long as you need to, Sirius," insisted James's mother.
"Thanks," said Sirius weakly, as Mrs. Potter gave him another quick hug. She then turned and left the kitchen. James walked over to pick up Sirius' trunk.
"Hey, no - I'll do that," said Sirius, moving to take the trunk himself. James noticed that he was trying to conceal a painful limp on his right leg that James knew had nothing to do with Sirius having dropped the trunk on his toe earlier.
"No you won't, mate," said James firmly, grabbing the trunk firmly by its handles and heaving. James staggered backwards with the weight of it, swore loudly, and dropped the trunk on his own foot.
"Yeah I will, mate," said Sirius, the mischievous grin back on his face once more. He heaved on the handles of the trunk and managed to lift it. He was a lot taller and stronger than James, who was slim-built; ideal for the position of Chaser that he played on the Gryffindor house Quidditch team.
The two of them followed Mrs. Potter up the stairs to James' bedroom, with Sirius carrying the trunk. By the time they reached James' room, Mrs. Potter had conjured up a squashy mattress complete with pillows and a duvet on the floor next to James' bed, and she was now busying herself plumping up the pillows.
"Here you are, Sirius," she said spotting him, "I hope the bed's comfortable - sorry it's only temporary; we'll set you up properly tomorrow."
"Thanks," said Sirius, "It's great, thank you."
"Come here, dear, I'll fix up your cuts and bruises - though I have to admit that young James here is far better at it than me - what happened to you anyway, love," Mrs. Potter asked, moving towards Sirius with her wand held out affectionately.
"Nothing, Mrs. Potter, honest," Sirius lied, "I'm fine - don't worry about it."
Mrs. Potter watched Sirius doubtfully for a moment, but didn't press the subject. She simply sighed something about 'male pride', kissed her son lightly on the cheek, bade them both goodnight, and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.
"Wow," said Sirius, "Your mum's…brilliant."
James shrugged and sat down on the bed. "She's pretty cool," he admitted.
Sirius sat down on the bed beside him. "So," he said, "Have you heard from Moony lately?"
"Yes, I have, actually," said James, "But we'll get to that in a minute - first you need to tell me what happened with you."
Sirius frowned for a moment, as though debating whether or not to tell James to shut up.
"Well," Sirius began, apparently deciding James was worthy of the tale, "After Regulus said…well, said that, I got kind of…carried away."
"Naturally, Padfoot, naturally," said James.
Sirius smiled, and James glimpsed a flicker of pain amongst his friend's features at the movement.
"Yeah…so I hit him a couple of times, and then he got his wand out and jinxed me-"
"What did he use?" James interrupted.
"Levicorpus," said Sirius bluntly, "Which wouldn’t have been too bad had he not dropped me at the top of the stairs to the basement kitchen."
"Ouch," James muttered sympathetically.
Sirius grimaced and then stood up, walking to the far end of the room and turning his back on James.
"Look, mate," James began determinedly, repeating the words that he had said to his friend countless times, "they don't matter. Don't listen to them. You know what's right, and -"
"How can I not listen to them," Sirius spat, turning back to face James, his face set and angry, "They're my family, Prongs. They don't mean anything to me and I hate them, but they're my family. Hell I wish they weren't, but they are, so I'm stuck with them and their pure-blood mania whether I like it or not."
"That's not true," said James firmly, standing up to face Sirius, "That's not true, Padfoot, and you know it. You're not like them and you never will be."
"Yeah, but I'm one of them," said Sirius bitterly.
James stepped forward and seized the front of Sirius's robes.
"You're not," he said in a low voice, "You're not one of them and you bloody well know it, Padfoot, so forget them."
They stood looking at each other for a few moments, James' face hard and determined, Sirius' defeated. James could see dark shadows under his friend's eyes. Sirius looked pale, ill, and worn out, as though he had not slept in days. James recognized that look; he saw it constantly in another close friend.
"Remus," James said aloud.
Sirius started. "Huh," he said, completely perplexed, "No, mate, I'm Sirius."
"I know that," James said exasperatedly, releasing Sirius from his grip, "It's just you reminded me of - I mean, I just remembered that you asked about Moony earlier, that's all."
"Oh…yeah." Sirius shook his head vigorously, rubbing his eyes, like a dog trying to shake off an irritable fly. "So have you heard from him? He hasn't written to me all summer."
"Yeah," said James heavily, sitting back down on the bed and automatically running a hand through his hair, "He wrote to me just after full moon."
"But in your letter to me you said you wrote to him about a week before," said Sirius, sitting cross-legged on the camp bed in front of James. "He took his time answering."
"Well, it was only a week till full moon," James said fairly.
Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Prongs, even a day before full moon, Moony can manage to write a letter."
James shrugged.
"What did he say about our idea of visiting him?" Sirius pressed.
"See for yourself," said James. He stepped past Sirius and pulled open a draw in his desk, looking for Remus’ reply. "Here," he said, handing a roll of parchment out to Sirius.
"Sorry I haven't been able to write much - things have been getting on top of me. Thanks for the offer of visiting - it really would make everything a lot more bearable - but we both know that there's no chance of me being let out of the basement at full moon, let alone being allowed to roam free with you lot. My dad would probably die of shock.
I got a letter from Padfoot a few weeks ago - but I haven't dared answer in case his family gets hold of the letter before he does. I know what they think of people like me and I know they'd be able to find a way to get at Padfoot for writing to me. So if you're in contact with him, pass on my thanks for his letter and apologies for not answering."
Sirius paused. "I haven't dared answer…I know what they think of people like me," he repeated slowly. "I'm guessing he means how my parents think all werewolves are Dark Creatures?" he said testily.
James nodded.
"And that he's a half-blood."
Sirius looked as though he wanted to press the issue further, but thought better of it and returned to the letter. "I know they'd be able to find a way to get at Padfoot for writing to me…" Sirius caught James's eye. "Does he…does he pity me, Prongs?"
"I - no!" James said quickly. But it wasn't quick enough; Sirius had registered the hesitation.
"It's fine, I get it," he said heavily, turning back to the letter.
"Look, Padfoot, he was just-"James began.
"I get it, James."
James fell silent at the use of his real name. There was no way to comfort or sympathize with Sirius without him taking it as an accusation of weakness. Sirius scanned the letter to the end, reading out snippets of Remus’ writing.
"Two weeks till school…how about meeting up in Diagon Ally…I'll write to Wormtail, but I -" Sirius faltered, stealing a harsh glance at James. "I think it would be safest if you wrote to Padfoot, so it doesn't end up causing him any problems - you know what I mean."
"Padfoot," James interjected, "he - he just didn't want to get you in trouble or anything, he-"
"It doesn't matter," Sirius interrupted.
"Padfoot, I-"
"I said it doesn't matter, okay," Sirius spat. He scanned the letter again. "That's pretty much it," he said, his voice returning to its usual casual tones, but with noticeable effort. "Just the usual, write back soon…miss you…love you loads," he joked.
But James didn't laugh. He knew that the jokes were only to try and convince James - and probably in some way to convince Sirius himself - that he was fine. Sirius often steered away from sensitive subjects with jokes; distracting people and pretending that he wasn't taking it seriously - but James had always been able to see right through it.
"Padfoot -" James began, but Sirius cut in.
"I know, Prongs. I'm not mad at Moony, or you, I just…I've had a long day. I need to get some sleep," he said in a tone that told James not to question him further. Sirius climbed into bed, fully clothed, and lay with his back to James.
James opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again realizing that he had nothing to say. He, too, climbed into bed, quietly turning out the light and stuffing Remus’ letter back into a draw.
"Hey - Prongs," Sirius said suddenly in a low voice, wincing as he twisted round to look at James, "Thanks for… Well, thanks, mate."
James smiled. "No problem."
* * *
James couldn't sleep. He lay awake listening to the sounds of Sirius tossing and turning in his sleep, occasionally letting out sharp, vehement exclamations. Every half-hour Sirius would fall silent and James, cautiously opening an eye, would find his friend restlessly pacing the room in silence, or else sitting hunched in a corner staring into space. James could have sworn that a few times Sirius actually caught his eye, but next moment he had looked away, turning his back on James. The fourth time this happened James spoke, whispering Sirius' name at his turned back, but Sirius would only glance at James before ducking back into a shadowy corner, looking sullen and thoroughly exhausted.