Sirius shot James a single, panicked look.
‘It’s okay, Mum,’ James called quietly, hurrying around the table to meet his mother in the doorway. ‘It’s just Sirius,’
‘Sirius?’ Margaret Potter’s voice rang with the concern James himself had been so careful to hide.
Sirius twisted in his seat, trying an insouciant grin and failing spectacularly. ‘Evening, Mrs Potter. Sorry to barge in and all.’
‘Sirius, what on earth’s the matter?’ Mrs Potter pushed past her son to bend over his best friend. ‘You’re soaking wet, and it’s la—what happened to your face?’ she gasped.
‘It’s nothing, Mum,’ James interjected swiftly.
‘Really, it’s fine,’ Sirius assured her.
James quailed under the black look his mother threw him, praying she wouldn’t ask too many questions. He tried to communicate this through his eyes without Sirius noticing. He must have succeeded in some measure, for his mother’s lips suddenly compressed the way they always did when the subject of Sirius’s family came up, and though her face was pale with anger when she turned back, she summoned a casually cheerful tone that put both boys’ efforts to shame.
‘Well, time enough for talk later. First things first! James, why didn’t you wake me earlier, letting him sit here in those wet robes!’ Not waiting for an answer, she procured a short wand from her bathrobe and gave it an expert wave that left Sirius as dry as though he had never set foot outside.
‘Thanks,’ Sirius said gratefully.
‘Not at all, Sirius, dear. It’s a wonder you didn’t catch your death in this draughty kitchen; I don’t suppose you could have gotten him a towel, James? And where’s Hoppie? She could warm up some leftovers.’
‘S-Sorry?’ apologised James, unsure what to address first. He looked bewilderedly at Sirius, who was beginning to smile.
‘Let her sleep,’ Sirius suggested, referring to the Potters’ ancient house-elf. ‘I’m really not that hungry. And although I agree your son is a reprobate, to his credit, he did make me tea.’
‘Hmpf,’ Mrs Potter huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched suspiciously. But her expression sobered quickly as she drew up a chair next to Sirius. ‘Now let me have a look at that face,’ she said gently.
Sirius stiffened. ‘It’s nothing, you don’t have to,’ he muttered.
‘Nonsense,’ she said briskly. ‘I hope I am witch enough to manage a simple healing charm. Now hold still.’
Sirius did as he was told, face slightly pink as Mrs Potter brushed back his hair to get a clear view of the welt, still an angry shade of red. James tried not to imagine a raging Walburga Black slashing her wand through the air in the drawing room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Moments later Mrs Potter leaned back, satisfied with her work. Sirius rubbed his newly unmarked face and smiled self-consciously.
‘Thanks.’
‘Of course, dear,’ Mrs Potter murmured, her eyes rather bright.
‘So, Mum,’ James announced, more to break the awkward silence than anything, ‘Sirius was just going to kip in my room.’
‘If that’s okay,’ Sirius put in hurriedly, rising from his chair. ‘I mean, just for the night. I’ll find a room tomorrow.’
There was a short silence as Mrs Potter stared and James realised his friend had implied more than he’d meant to.
Mrs Potter frowned. ‘Of course you can sleep here tonight, Sirius, but I think you’d best tell me what’s going on,’ she said quietly, looking from one to the other.
James opened his mouth to put her off again, but Sirius beat him to the punch.
‘I left home,’ he stated with admirable bluntness, though his eyes avoided Mrs Potter’s.
The sentence hung in the air for several long seconds, during which James looked anxiously from his mother to his friend. Then—
‘Oh, darling,’ Mrs Potter whispered, and without warning wrapped Sirius in a crushing embrace.
‘Mum,’ James groaned. ‘You’re suffocating him! I’m vicariously embarrassed here.’
Having stifled an unmanly yelp of alarm, Sirius stood stiffly locked in Mrs Potter’s arms, looking entirely unequal the situation. James shrugged helplessly.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Potter,’ mumbled Sirius, the very picture of mortification as he patted her awkwardly on the back. ‘It’s really not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like we liked each other or anything.’
Mrs Potter made a choked little sound and finally let him go, holding him at arm’s length. ‘You are going to live here from now on,’ she informed him fiercely.
‘What? I—no—I can’t…’ Sirius stuttered.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can! You’re practically part of the family as it is. Besides, you’re underage, you can’t live on your own.’
‘That’s brilliant, Mum!’ James exclaimed gratefully. He had been going to suggest it himself and was glad to be spared further awkwardness.
‘But I—’ Sirius looked uncertainly between the two of them. James could tell how much he wanted to accept the offer; he could almost see his friend struggling with his pride.
‘I—look, I’m sixteen in November, I can stay at Hogwarts over holidays and then it’s only one more summer till I’m of age…’
Mrs Potter snorted, unimpressed.
‘Oh come on, Sirius, it’ll be great!’ James urged him. ‘Dad’ll be dead chuffed—you two can talk Muggle music whenever you want.’
Sirius smiled reluctantly. Theodore Potter, though woefully ignorant in other areas of Muggle culture, cherished a hearty enthusiasm for their music. Sirius, who had started listening at an early age to scandalise his parents, was generally Mr Potter’s only ally on the subject. However, apprehension still coloured the glance Sirius directed at Mrs Potter.
‘You’re sure he won’t mind?’
‘He’d love to have you here,’ she assured him firmly.
‘They basically like you better anyway,’ James sighed, in a long-suffering voice.
Finally breaking down at that, Sirius grinned genuinely for the first time since he had arrived. ‘Well who wouldn’t, mate? Your mum deserves to have at least one charming and talented male around the house. Saving Mr Potter’s presence of course.’
James’s mother chuckled appreciatively. ‘Good. Then it’s settled. You can stay with James until I fix up the spare bedroom. I’ll go hunt up some more blankets.’ She gave him a final pat on the arm before bustling out of the kitchen.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ James called cheerfully, at the same time that Sirius said, ‘Mrs Potter?’
She turned in the doorway. ‘Yes, dear?’
Sirius’s fumbled a moment for words. ‘Erm…thanks. For everything, I mean. Letting me stay, and all.’
Mrs Potter’s eyes filled with sympathy, but she gave a warm smile. ‘We’re so happy to have you.’
The sincerity in her voice drew an answering smile from Sirius, and James clapped his friend on the shoulder.
‘Excellent!’ he enthused, ‘Let’s bring your things up, then.’