Black Is The Colour

Chapter 3 - A Sense of Belonging

By the time the conductor finally called out James' address, it was very late and had started to rain heavily. James' house was situated at the end of a narrow lane, which the bus couldn't navigate, so Sirius was left where it met the main road. He got out his wand and attempted to levitate his trunk, but the weather combined with his emotional turmoil to destroy his concentration, and he was unable to execute the spell correctly.

"Perfect," he muttered darkly, before picking up one end of the trunk and starting to drag it down the lane.

After a wet and miserable few minutes, the Potter house finally appeared out of the darkness, it's lights greeting him cheerfully. A somewhat bedraggled Sirius knocked at the door, glad of the evidence that the Potters were still up.

Mrs Potter answered the door. "Sirius!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" There was no censure in her voice, only surprise. Then she glanced down at the trunk set beside him in the doorway and her expression turned to concern. "Come in, dear, and you can tell us all what's happened."

"I'm sorry it's so late," Sirius mumbled, but she cut him off before he could continue.

"Don't be silly," she admonished softly. "You know you can always come to us, not matter what. Now, let's get you out of the rain and into some dry clothes." She ushered him inside, then turned to the stairs and called out, "James!"

Her unconditional kindness made Sirius suddenly want to cry, and he was grateful for a moment's distraction to get himself back under control. There was the sound of a door opening above them, and James came pounding down the stairs. He stopped at the unexpected sight of his friend.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed in an echo of his mother, but her calm practicality pre-empted his inevitable questions.

"Find Sirius something to wear, darling," Mrs Potter instructed, "then you can both come back down and we'll have some hot chocolate."

Sirius obediently followed James up the stairs, and accepted some dry clothing from him gratefully.

"Just come back down when you're ready," James told him simply, though Sirius could tell he was bursting to ask what was going on.

For the moment, though, Sirius was glad of a brief reprieve, and he took his time getting changed. It was wonderful to put on clothes that weren't his, in a house so different to the cold grandeur of Grimmauld Place. Standing in the Potters' comfortable spare room, he could almost imagine that the rest of the evening hadn't happened. Eventually, though, he knew he couldn't put off the explanations any longer, and he made his way slowly back downstairs to the warm and cosy kitchen, where all three Potters were patiently waiting for him.

He sat down at the table with them, and Mrs Potter put a steaming mug down in front of him.

"Evening, Sirius," Mr Potter said genially. "Had another fight with your mother?"

"You could say that," Sirius replied wryly.

"Well, you know you're more than welcome to stay here until you're ready to go home again," Mrs Potter assured him. "Does your mother know where you are?"

Sirius snorted derisively. "I don't think she'd care," he said bitterly. "I didn't run away this time - she threw me out."

"Oh, Sirius," Mrs Potter said sympathetically. "You did exactly the right thing in coming here. I'm sure James has no objection to you staying with us."

"Course not, old chap," James grinned.

"Thanks," Sirius said wholeheartedly, then raised his mug and tilted his head back to take a sip.

Mrs Potter gasped. "What happened to your face?" she cried.

Sirius immediately ducked his head so that his hair fell forwards to hide the reddened skin on his cheek but it was too late. Mrs Potter was instantly at his side, gently brushing the hair back again to examine the damage.

Sirius grimaced. "Mother got a little carried away in trying to persuade me to leave," he told them.

"Your mother hit you?" James spluttered in disbelief.

At Sirius' rueful nod, Mr Potter announced decisively, "That settles it. You're not going back there. You'll stay with us for the rest of the holidays."

Inwardly, Sirius gave a cheer, but his sense of pride presented an obstacle. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not," Mr Potter replied firmly. "I'm telling you that's the way it's going to be. I'll head over to your house tomorrow and let your parents know. You can give me a list of anything you want me to collect while I'm there."

Sirius felt tears threatening again, and hid his face in his mug. "Thank you," he mumbled again, feeling as though the simple words were wholly inadequate for what he wanted to express.

"Now, though, I think it's time you boys went to bed," Mrs Potter said, matter-of-factly. "You should be quite comfortable in the spare room, Sirius, but just shout if there's anything you need."

As he rose from the table, she pulled him into a hug, then bustled both boys out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

As Sirius made his way to his room, he realised that neither of James' parents had asked him what the fight with his mother had been about, or what he had done to provoke it. They had simply taken him in and offered him a place to stay indefinitely, no questions asked.

He wasn't going to escape an explanation altogether, though, as James followed him into the spare room and sat down on the bed.

"So, what was the old bat's problem this time?" he asked.

Sirius wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to lie to James, but he was also much more worried about his friend's reaction to the news about Remus than he had been about his mother's. He knew he couldn't deal with another row tonight.

"Oh, you know, the same old stuff," he hedged, hoping James would let it go.

But James wouldn't. "Come on, Si," he pressed. "You've been fighting with your mother about the same old stuff for years, but this," - he gestured at Sirius' inflamed cheek - "and kicking you out of the house? There must have been something else."

Sirius looked down at his hands, not sure how to explain.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. "I thought maybe you'd told her about you and Remus..." James continued.

Astonished, Sirius brought his head up to meet James' searching gaze. "You - you know?"

James grinned. "I've been expecting it to happen for months," he said. "Besides, I saw Remus sneaking out of your bed this morning, and the two of you couldn't have been more obvious at breakfast if you'd tried!"

Sirius was still floundering. "And - and you don't mind?"

"Mind? Of course not!" James exclaimed good-naturedly. "What do you take me for? Some narrow-minded, pureblood-obsessed freak? Speaking of whom," he added with mock indignation, "you didn't tell me, but you told your mother...?"

Sirius smirked a little. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I told her I was a Mudblood-loving queer."

James goggled at him. "You actually said that to her?"

Sirius nodded, then sobered at the memory. "That's when she hit me."

James winced in sympathy, then got up. "Well, it worked out pretty well for me," he said, moving to the door. "Welcome to the family, bro."

* * * * *

Safe and comfortable, and free from the worry of what James might think of his relationship with Remus, Sirius slept late. When he finally did wake, it was to sunlight streaming in through the chinks in the curtains, and a wonderful feeling of peace. The only thing that would have made things better would have been for Remus to be there with him. He stretched and rolled over.

"Good morning," an unexpected voice said from the doorway.

Sirius' eyes snapped open to see Remus just entering the room. He scrabbled into a sitting position as the other boy came over and perched on the edge of the bed. Before Sirius could voice the question that was forming on his lips, Remus explained.

"James sent me an owl late last night and I came over first thing this morning." He smiled at Sirius' stunned expression. "You really told your mother about us?" he asked. At Sirius' mute nod, he added affectionately, "What kind of an idiot are you?"

"James guessed." Sirius finally found his voice.

"Yeah, I know," Remus told him. "So that saves us a dilemma. We'll have to tell Pete now, too, but I can't imagine he'll object if James doesn't." He changed tack. "I can't believe your mother actually threw you out over it."

"You don't know her like I do," Sirius said darkly. "I shouldn't have been surprised. She thinks pureblood families are the only ones worth anything. And anyone who doesn't fit into her perfect little idea of traditional values and correct behaviour is just dirt under her shoe. My father's just as bad - I don't imagine he'll have any problem with what she did." He leaned forward impulsively, pulling Remus to him and hugging him tightly. "Why did I have to be born a Black?"

Remus held him close for a moment, then released him and stared deep into his eyes. "I don't care what your family is like," he said seriously. "You're the only one I'm interested in." He reached up and fondled a lock of Sirius' hair. "Black is the colour of my true love's hair," he quoted, then brought his hand down to cup Sirius' bruised cheek. "And Black may be the colour of my true love's name." Finally, he moved his hand to rest on Sirius' chest. "But black is definitely not the colour of my true love's heart."

THE END

(Title and dialogue in last paragraph inspired by Traditional Scottish Folk Song, "Black Is The Colour Of My True Love's Hair".)