The Ties That Bind

The Ties That Bind

There comes a time in a person's life where he or she has to make a decision. Sometimes that decision is poor, based on something he or she is going through at that time. Family crisis are one such example. When someone is going through that rough a time, their emotions are focused purely on what they are feeling, and not really on what the rest of the world is doing. Rash decisions can be made, and they don't see the outcome until it's too late. Another is stress. We sometimes say things that we shouldn't, step on people we shouldn't, when we are stressed. The repercussions of those actions can lead to nasty results, such as death, if the wrong thing is said to the wrong person at the wrong time. Other times, it turns out to be their best decision. But, ultimately, that one decision is what decides their future.

True, there are many decisions that come after, but once the ball of fate has started to roll, there is little anyone can do to stop it. Lives can be changed, futures can be born, destinies can be revealed. Now, the unfortunate part of this is that we do not know when this life-changing decision is made. We just go about our lives, hoping that all our decisions are the right ones. But that would mean that we are perfect, and the truth of the matter is, no one is perfect.

Everyone is entitled to mistakes, we are, after all, only human. And more often than not, we make many mistakes.

However, there can be something that can override all obstacles. And that's friendship. The ties that bind friends together are as strong as they come and they only get stronger over the years. Unfortunately, outside disturbances can sever those ties, no matter how strong they are. Those hard years are rough for everyone and only the strongest survive, much like Darwin's theory. But those that do survive make way for those to come.

The story that follows is that of four friends, four friends that would ultimately have to make a decision that would change their lives forever. One boy's decision could be the downfall of all of them, but if he makes the right decision at the right time, it could lead to a far brighter future.

Chapter One: Family

July 29, 1971

"Lily! Can you come downstairs and help me with these cookies? I think they need a taste-tester!"

"Coming, mum!"

The petite eleven-year old bounded down the stairs, her red hair streaming back behind her. Her thirteen-year old sister, Petunia, was right at her heels.

Skidding to a stop in the small kitchen, Lily grinned, the delightful smell of chocolate cookies flooding her senses. Rosemary Evans stood by the table, spatula in hand as she scooped the cookies off the baking sheet and onto the wire racks. White counters gleamed behind her, a warm breeze shifting through the house from an open window above the sink. The back door was slightly ajar and Lily spotted her tabby cat, Snuffles, slinking in, his nose sniffing at the cookie smell.

A bright smile appeared on the middle-aged woman's face as she looked at her youngest daughter, though her green eyes seemed to pass over her eldest.

"Taste-test time," she said and Lily eagerly hopped up onto a chair, letting her mother place a warm, gooey cookie in her waiting mouth.

"Yum!" she exclaimed, grinning when she had swallowed.

"Can I have one too?" the soft voice of Petunia asked. The wiry girl never said much, but when she did, it was always quiet. Rosemary too often ignored the small girl, so caught up in lavishing attention on Lily, but Lily made up for that.

"Sure, Petunia!" Lily said, happily handing a cookie to Petunia.

"Lily, Petunia will spoil her appetite with that," her mother scolded lightly, taking the cookie from a crest-fallen Petunia. "Petunia, you run along to your room and I'll call you down for supper."

"Mum, why can't Petunia have one?" Lily asked, watching her sister walk away. She turned back to her mother once her sister had disappeared from sight.

"Lily, you know how your sister barely eats as it is. Letting her eat a cookie so soon to supper will surely spoil what little appetite she has to begin with." Rosemary smiled. "But you're a good eater, so you can have another if you'd like."

"Can I take it to my room?"

"Sure, love." Her mother turned back to the sink, washing up the baking dishes.

Lily took another cookie and walked out of the room. Once she was up the stairs, she stopped at Petunia's room and knocked softly. "Petunia?"

"Go away."

"It's me, Petunia."

A few moments later, the door creaked open and a tuff of blond hair hair appeared, along with a pale face. "I'm supposed to stay here."

"I just came to give you this." Lily smiled, holding out the still-warm cookie.

Petunia looked at the cookie and then back up at her sister. "Mum said no."

"I know, but if I'm allowed to have a cookie, you should too." Lily placed the cookie in Petunia's hand. "It'll be our little secret. We're sisters; I've got to take care of you."

A small smile appeared on the other girl's face. Only for Lily would Petunia smile. "Our secret, yes." Petunia bit into the cookie and there was obvious enjoyment in her face as she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor.

"I'm going to help mum now. Enjoy your cookie." Lily smiled.

"Thanks, Lily."

"Anytime."

Petunia's door shut and Lily ran down the stairs, heading back into the kitchen.

~***~

"Whoa!"

A huge explosion followed and two boys ran out of a room into a hallway. They were coughing, leaning over the banister that overlooked the foyer. The taller of the two had a black face to match his hair and the other's hair stood out on all ends, looking very much like he had just got electrocuted.

"I told you not to put the monkshood in there before the talons!" the shorter boy exclaimed, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. He frowned at the black stain that now ran across the red T-shirt.

"How was I supposed to know it'd explode all over us?" the black-haired boy asked, leaning against the banister. He brushed some powder off of his shirt, making a face when his fingers touched some green ooze, courtesy of the exploded potion.

"Maybe because it said right there on the sheet, 'do not put in monkshood until very last'."

The black-haired boy shrugged, wiping the ooze off on his jeans. "Well, not like we can do anything about it now." He grinned. "But you have to admit, that was wizard! And the explosion just added to it." He nudged his best friend. "Come on, James, admit it."

James chuckled, slipping his glasses back on. "Alright, you're right, Sirius, that was brill, but we'd better get it cleaned up before my mum sees it. They don't mind our pranks, but you know mum and her messes."

Sirius just grinned. "Definitely do." He walked back into James' bedroom and ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to take a lot of cleaning."

James walked up next to Sirius and sighed, looking around the room. It looked like a bomb had gone off, which, in all reality, one really had. Papers were strewn over the dressers and the floor, mixed with a greenish substance originated from the cauldron sitting in the middle of the floor. James waved a hand, clearing smoke, coughing a little as he waded through the mess and opened the window on the far side of the room.

Sirius stepped over a particularly large glob and began picking up papers. "Don't think you really want these." He made a face at the globbed piece of paper he held up.

James looked over at the paper. "Trash can."

Sirius nodded and gratefully dropped the paper into the can next to the mirror dresser. "Can I stay the night again?"

James glanced at his best friend as he began wiping the green substance from his mirror with an old shirt. "Of course, mate. You're always welcome here."

Sirius smiled. "Thanks. My parents are having some of their friends over, not something I look forward to, as you know."

James nodded. "I do." He crouched down in front of the cauldron and began wiping up the ooze around it. "Are they still getting on your case about not attending the last dinner party?"

Sirius rolled his eyes slightly. "You know it. Especially my father. 'You're a Black and with that comes certain responsibilities. You should be more like your brother. At least Regulus knows how to act,'" Sirius mocked. "I'm sick of it," he muttered, pausing his cleaning to look at a photograph of James, Sirius, and James' parents, Bryon and Samantha. He smiled, remembering that day at the beach. The picture had them all waving and then Sirius tackling James into the water, laughing. That had been a great day. Of course, all of his days since he'd met James at a dinner party the previous year had been that way. James was the brother he wished he'd had, and the Potters were a family he had been welcomed into with open arms, no questions asked.

James hung up a few of his robes and, glancing around the now clean room, he took out his Nimbus 1000, a present he had received for his tenth birthday. Taking a seat on the floor, he reached under his bed and produced his cleaning kit. He looked up at Sirius as he took out clippers.

"That was a good day."

Sirius looked at James and smiled. "It was." He walked over and took a seat next to James. "Can't wait to get to Hogwarts."

James grinned. "Me neither. From what I hear, it's going to be brilliant."

Sirius nodded. "And I'll have an excuse to stay away from home."

"Is it really getting that bad now?" James began clipping at some of the twigs that were either a little bent or had been snapped at the ends.

Sirius leaned against the end of the bed, folding his arms behind his head. "It's never been good, you know that. But there's not much I can do about it now, so I'm not caring. Besides, I'll be in Hogwarts in a month."

James nodded. "And you won't have to deal with your brother or your family."

"Exactly."

"Boys! Dinner!" Samantha called and Sirius was immediately on his feet, out the door. Any mention of food and he was there.

"Suppose this will have to wait until later," James said, standing and placing his broom on his bed. He closed the service kit and walked out after Sirius.

~***~

Far away from any civilization, a small cottage at in a clearing surrounded by dense forest, a boy sat by a window looking out watching the rain drizzle. Clutching his patched clothes around his thin body, he sighed, pushing an untouched plate of food away. A lock of brown hair fell in front of his face, but he ignored it.

"You should eat. You need your strength for tonight," a soft voice said.

He looked over his shoulder at the doorway, seeing his mother silhouetted by the fading light. Silent, he gazed at her for a few moments before turning back to the window. He heard her footsteps and felt her hand touch his shoulder.

"There's no need to hide away from the world. With Dumbledore as Headmaster now, everything is going to change. You're going to Hogwarts where you can make friends and become a legal wizard without having everyone judge you."

"Mother, you don't understand," he said bitterly, shrugging off her hand. "No one will want to be my friend once they find out what I am."

There was no answer for a few minutes and the only sound was the rain hitting the roof.

"You don't know that for sure. There are good decent people out there that will give you a chance, if you will just give them a chance."

"I know how they react to anything different."

"You're not different; you're just like everyone else."

"Oh, and I suppose my condition is normal then." He looked at her, his face expressionless, but his eyes full of bitterness and sadness.

His mother was quiet. She finally spoke a few minutes later. "Marlene invited you over. Frank is playing Quidditch with a few of his friends."

"I'm not going," he said, looking back out.

"You should, there's no need for you to stay here alone. You've got hours until you need to be in the chamber."

"Why don't you ask Romulus? He'd want to go."

She frowned slightly at the harshness in his voice, but only said, "She invited you."

"Don't care."

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "If you do not want to go, it's alright, I'll tell her. Let's get you to your chamber then if that's what you wish."

Remus stood, glancing once more outside, before leaving the room, heading to the underground chamber to await the full moon.

~***~

"He won't be a Squib, I'm sure of it."

"But Winston, he's shown little to none magical talent. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Charlene. Both are families are pure-blooded, and there have never been Squibs. He'll show it soon enough."

"But the Hogwarts letters arrive in just a matter of days."

Winston sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking at his wife. "I know."

"What will you do if he doesn't get into the school?"

"I don't want to think about that. All of the Pettigrews have attended Hogwarts, Peter will be no different."

"But what if?"

"Charlene, I don't want to think about that right now."

A short, chubby boy stood out in the hall, listening to his parent's conversation. He knew he shouldn't, but they were talking about him. He knew he didn't have that much magical talent, but he tried, he really did. He hated to disappoint his parents.

"Peter, you know you shouldn't listen in on private conversations," a chiding voice said behind him.

Peter looked up at the portrait of his grandmother. "But they're talking about me."

"Love, they're only worried."

"I'm going to be a Squib, aren't I?" He looked at his hands, close to tears.

"No, you're not. That's codswallop."

"Then why can't I do any magic?"

"Not all magic shows up immediately."

"I'm a Squib," he muttered.

Peter still looked quite sullen and quietly paddled away into the kitchen, where he took a seat at the small table, munching on some cookies his mother had made earlier. He looked around the tiny kitchen. With one window, a counter, and the table, that was all there was room for. The house itself was very small as well, despite them being pure-blooded. Just because their blood was unstained, didn't mean that they were rich. On the contrary, most pure-blooded families weren't that well off, just most of them pretended to be to keep their place high in society.

Finally fed up with munching on cookies, he stood and walked outside. Placing his hands in his pockets, he began walking alongside the road, kicking stones from his path, his thoughts on his parent's conversation, and the possibility he might not get into Hogwarts. So caught up in his thoughts, he didn't realize he had wandered into the street until he heard the car honking. He didn't even have time to react as the car sped towards him and his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for impact, but it never came. When he braved cracking open one eye, he saw that the car had missed him, somehow. He was very confused, for the car had been nearly on top of him.

Winston, however, had seen what had happened. His son, who they feared to be a Squib, had just made that car move right around him, with magic. He laughed and grabbed Charlene, twirling her around in a hug. "Our son isn't a Squib!" he yelled.

Charlene laughed as well. "Lovely!"

The two excited parents ran out to meet their son, enveloping him into a tight hug. Peter, surprised at this sudden embrace, could only stand there.

"You're not a Squib, son!" his father said and Peter's eyes went wide.

"Really?"

His mother smiled at him as they let him go. "You just showed your first sign of magic."

A wide grin broke out across the boy's face. "I'm really a wizard?!"

His parents laughed. "My son, I'm so proud. You'll be getting that Hogwarts letter yet!" his father said happily.

"I think this calls for a batch of my special cookies," his mother said.

"Yes!" Peter cried, grinning as he followed his mother into the house, his father following soon after.