The Other Side: Thick and Thin (Book 1)

The day after Sirius returned from Hogwarts, he was still asleep at lunchtime, only a few strands of his silky hair visible from underneath the sheet he'd pulled over his head to block out the sunlight. Orion sent Kreacher to wake his son up at noon sharp, and the wake-up call earned the house-elf a nasty Pimple Jinx for his trouble. Orion quickly cured the elf of his boils and came upstairs to fetch his son himself.

Sirius wasn't quite annoyed enough to risk raising his wand to his father, so he reluctantly got out of bed amidst a wild tangle of hair and a mass of grumbles.

Lunch was a relatively lively affair as far as meals at Grimmauld Place usually went, because everybody was excited to have Sirius home. Even Regulus seemed to have put aside his animosity in his eagerness to ask Sirius questions about Hogwarts, as if he had never heard about it from their older cousins. "But they're girls," he had said, as if it explained everything. But soon enough they all turned to their various pursuits, and Sirius could eat in relative peace.

Walburga had taken the seat next to his and was very nearly hovering over him as he ate, her own plate nearly untouched.

"Oh darling, you're so thin!" she fretted. "Do they not serve anything you like at Hogwarts? I will have to send a letter to that headmaster..."

Sirius hurriedly swallowed the bite he'd been chewing. "But Mother, I eat just as much as I always have."

"Probably more, I daresay," said his father, who had already finished his lunch and was peering at them over the top of a lengthy letter he was trying to read.

"But he's so thin, Orion! Just look at him!"

Orion smiled affectionately at her from across the table. "My dear, he is just at that age. Surely you remember how gangly I was, but I think you'll agree--and do correct me if I'm wrong, wife--that I filled out all right eventually."

Walburga blushed, and Sirius exchanged a disgusted look with his brother, who was sitting across from him.

"Oh, that age..." she echoed. She looked at her son with an expression he couldn't quite read.

Arcturus let his gaze travel speculatively over his eldest grandson. The boy had grown at least another two inches since he'd last been home at Christmas, and indeed both his body and face already seemed to have a little more definition than that of the spoiled, well-fed child they had sent off to Hogwarts last September.

"Son, I do believe that Sirius will take after your height, after all. Of course he was sensible enough to take after me in everything else..."

Orion made a sound of protest from behind his boring letter. "One of these days you will just have to admit that my children get their good looks from me."

The old argument made Sirius smile. The resemblance between his father and grandfather was striking, almost as striking as that between Mr. Malfoy and Lucius, and anyone else who heard them talk as if they looked completely different from each other would think they were barmy.

After lunch Orion and Sirius headed to the foyer where they could Apparate to Diagon Alley. They appeared with a crack, but none of the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron paid it any mind. It seemed like most people were just now making their way to the pub for lunch. They had made their way through the throng all the way to the turnoff to Knockturn Alley before the crowd thinned enough for them to speak to one another.

"Ah, I hate the weekends. All the riffraff are about," the elder commented.

Orion sneered as they made their way around a family that appeared to have too many young children for the parents to handle. Sirius followed him into the narrow archway across from Gringotts that led down into the Dark alley. When they reached the bottom of the haphazard stone steps, Orion turned to give him a glance filled with warning.

"Now, you had better not mention to your mother that I brought you down here."

Sirius had no intention of doing any such thing. He also had no intention of mentioning to his father that his cousin Bellatrix had brought him down here last summer before he left for Hogwarts.

He shot Orion his most beautific smile. "Of course not, Father."

They continued down the rapidly narrowing alley past dimly lit shops and a few street vendors. They passed by a shop that had a display of what looked to be human body parts, then another with snakes slithering in the window. There was a large sign outside a classier looking shop advertising its stock of virgin's blood. Sirius couldn't help the sneer that curled at the corner of his lips when a tatty witch who appeared to be selling poisons out of a cart grinned at him as they walked by, revealing blackened, rotting teeth.

Then they rounded a sharp corner and found themselves in front of a relatively impressive window display. The sign advertised the shop as Borgin and Burkes, his Great-Great-Uncle Herbert's shop. Orion led Sirius towards the shop, sending a group of exiting young wizards scattering at his approach.

Sirius didn't want to stray too far from his father, if only because he was determined to hear what sort of errand they were on, but there were plenty of things to investigate nearby. There was a sarcophagus standing upright near the door, and Sirius attempted to peer into it through a small crack. He thought he might have seen bandages, but there wasn't enough light to be sure, so he quickly lost interest and wandered nearer the counter where his father was waiting. On the dusty counter rested a crudely constructed doll nestled in a box that looked like a miniature coffin. A shelf behind the counter contained rows and rows of phials filled with liquids of various colors and consistencies. Sirius supposed they were poisons, and he strained his eyes and tried to read the labels in the dim lighting.

"May I help you?" rasped a voice from deeper in the shop, and both Blacks swiveled their heads around to see a stooped man appear around the corner of one of the shelves. He stopped short when he recognized them. "Ah, Mr. Black, how nice to see you again. And this must be young Mr. Black."

He peered at Sirius intently, and Sirius was distinctly uncomfortable under the watery gaze. He nodded politely anyway.

He was spared actually having to speak by his father's reply. "Yes, Mr. Borgin, this is Sirius. He's just returned home from his first year at school."

"You've decided to bring him along, have you?" said another voice. "You Blacks always did start them out young."

They both turned again to see another elderly man now arriving behind the counter from a door leading further back into the shop. He stood straight and proud, unlike his business partner, but he wasn't anywhere near as tall as the men in the Black family. He surveyed Sirius with curious brown eyes, and Sirius stared frankly back with his gray.

"Good afternoon, Uncle Burke," greeted Orion.

Mr. Borgin brushed past Sirius, causing him to take an involuntary step backwards when the man's oily black hair and bad breath came level with his face. The man didn't seem to notice. He shuffled around the counter and through the door to the backroom without further comment to anybody. They all watched him go in equal silence. Finally, when Uncle Herbert had closed the door behind his associate with a wave of his wand, he turned back to his visitors with a serious expression on his face.

"I hope you aren't here about that blasted Acromantula venom, Orion." Sirius watched his father raise one perfect, arrogant eyebrow in response. Burke hastily added, "You must have passed my owl in mid-flight on your way here. I had written to say that it will take at least a few more days to track it down in such high quantities, perhaps as long as a week or two."

The traces of anger in Orion's expression melted away as his features smoothed back into the icy hauteur he maintained in public. "Ah, well, no harm no foul, I suppose."

"But perhaps you'd be interested to see some of the new inventory? In particular, I have just obtained a beautiful necklace that my dear niece might be interested to own." Orion nodded his assent and Burke ducked so low that Sirius couldn't see him over the counter, then he popped back up and set a box on the glass surface, which he opened so gingerly that Sirius couldn't help leaning forward in anticipation. "Opals set in goblin-wrought platinum, as you see. It's cursed to kill anyone without pure blood who touches it. Fifteen people so far!"

Sirius peered at the necklace curiously. It didn't look like it had killed fifteen people, although certainly the sharp edges of the design gave off a sinister air even as they were beautiful.

Orion leaned over his son to get a good look at the piece for himself. "It certainly is lovely, and my wife would find it amusing to wear something that has killed so many of the impure--"

"I was planning on setting the price at 3,000 Galleons, but for you I think I could bump it down to, say, 2,600."

"--but Walburga isn't fond of the color blue," he continued as though Uncle Burke hadn't interrupted him.

Sirius took another look at the shimmering blue stones. "But Father, Cousin Belley likes blue. Perhaps she could have it as a wedding present."

He thought that Bellatrix would appreciate the sinister, dangerous beauty of the necklace, even if it hadn't had a curse on it that would kill anyone who wasn't a pure blood.

Uncle Burke looked a bit hopeful at Sirius's words, but Orion's laugh quickly wiped the expression off his face. Orion laid an affectionate hand on his son's shoulder.

"Sirius, 2,600 Galleons is a bit much for a wedding present. I'm afraid Bellatrix will have to depend on her own husband to buy her expensive ornaments like this." Uncle Burke did not look the least bit amused, but Orion turned to him with a grin and said, "Children have no sense of the value of a Galleon."

It was true, of course, in Sirius's case that he had never been unable to have whatever he wanted on account of price, so he did not know the value of a Galleon. If that was less true in the case of Herbert Burke's own children and grandchildren, and for the vast majority of wizarding children who would not inherit ancient Gringotts vaults of which only the goblins probably bothered to know the exact value, then he certainly would not have said so to Orion Black's face.

Orion stepped back from the counter, his hand still on his son's shoulder. "Now, if there's nothing else--"

"Is that a real Voodoo doll?" Sirius burst out, afraid that his father would drag him out of the shop before he could ask. "If it is, may I have it?"

"A Voodoo doll," echoed Uncle Herbert, incredulity leaking into his tone. He raised his head and looked at Sirius as if he didn't quite know what to make of him. "Yes, that's what it is. What possible use could you have for it, boy?"

"There are a few people at school I wouldn't mind torturing a bit."

If it was possible, Herbert Burke's already incredulous expression became even more openly surprised, but he managed to keep his voice reasonably neutral. "You wouldn't be able to use it against more than one person."

Sirius shrugged. "I'm sure I can narrow it down to one person."

Although Burke was usually not one to argue himself out of a sale, he found himself explaining, "It's a very crude kind of magic--just underdeveloped aboriginal hocus pocus, really. It will work poorly unless you manage to get some of the target's blood to soak into it. Hair and fingernails and personal items aren't as powerful as you would think."

"Oh," said Sirius, deflating a bit. He bit his lip for a moment, then mused, "Well, I'm sure I could manage to--"

His father's bark of laughter cut him off. "Really, son, semester-long detentions are bad enough. Just imagine your mother's reaction if you were expelled for forcible bloodletting!"

Sirius found himself propelled out of the shop before he had time to formulate a good argument in protest. He pouted as much as he could without being undignified about it, until they were finally alone enough that he could inform his father in his most petulant tone, "I already had a lot of plans for that doll."

Orion laughed again in response, affectionately squeezing Sirius's shoulder again before he dropped his arm back down to his side.

"While your enthusiasm is commendable, you could hardly have managed to steal the Potter boy's blood without being noticed."

"Potter?" Sirius spat out in surprise. "Actually, I had been planning to use it on Rosier, and I'm sure Cissy or Belley would have helped me get some of his blood while he's at their house this summer."

"Rosier?" Orion echoed incredulously. "You don't mean Evan? I know your mother was pleased to hear that you had cursed the boy, but I had supposed he just got caught in the crossfire between you and that Snape creature. I thought you were friends."

Sirius scowled. "We were friends, but then he avoided me like I had Dragon Pox after my sorting."

Sensing that his son's good mood was rapidly failing, Orion decided that dropping the subject of Evan Rosier would be best for now. Instead he said, "Well, if you're really determined to cause trouble, you had better be more careful than carrying around a Voodoo doll in your school trunk. Perhaps you should ask your mother's advice on curses that are a bit less obvious."

By the time they had completed the rest of their shopping it was teatime. They settled down at an outdoor table in a posh little cafe located across from Twilfitt and Tattings, where they were soon interrupted by a happy, "Hello, Sirius!"

Sirius jerked in his seat, surprised to hear his name used so familiarly by a voice he didn't recognize. Not many of his friends and acquaintances actually used his given name, and certainly not many of the male ones. He almost immediately recognized William Avery weaving his way through the crowd, which was fortunately much sparser in this area of Diagon Alley than the main section, an attractive blond man following a few steps behind him.

Orion rose to his feet and held out his hand to the blond man. "Avery, how long has it been? And this must be William, Jr."

The boy smiled charmingly and held out his own hand to be shaken. "Please, sir, call me Will." He turned his smile on Sirius. "Father, Sirius is the one who cast that flawless Swelling Curse on Rosier's face, if you remember."

Sirius highly doubted that Mr. Avery would have forgotten once he'd been told. It wasn't as if there were multiple Blacks in Gryffindor who went around getting into fights with Slytherins. However, the man turned to assess Sirius as if he was just learning about the incident.

"The Swelling Curse is a nasty business, you know." Although the words were quite serious, the tone was conversational, almost light.

Sirius was not quite sure whether the man was praising him, scolding him, or just making a neutral comment, and therefore he was not quite sure how to respond. He settled for remarking, "So is betrayal, sir."

Mr. Avery's shrewd eyes bored into his for a few more seconds before he offered a tight smile.

"It is quite impressive that you were able to effectively cast it as a first year." He turned back to Orion, who had been watching the exchange with just as much confusion as his son, unclear whether he should jump in on his son's behalf. "You must be proud."

Once it was clear that the man's intentions were friendly, Orion retook his seat and gestured for the Averys to join them.

"We are all very proud of Sirius," he said matter-of-factly. "Of course he must get his affinity for curse work from his mother."

Mr. Avery gave him a significant look. "Yes, it must be a family trait. Your niece, Bellatrix, is one of the most naturally talented practitioners I have met in recent memory."

Orion met the pointed stare with one of his own, but the younger Avery was in no mood to respect the tension between the adults. "It wasn't only the curse, though!" he reminded them, giving Sirius a genuine grin. "I thought for sure that Snape was going to get that hex off on you, but then you pulled your wand and Disarmed him out of nowhere! I've been wondering how you did it."

"Really?" asked Orion, turning his stare onto his son, a speculative gleam lighting his gray eyes.

Sirius would have shrugged in response if they had not been in public. Will, for his part, was looking between father and son in complete confusion, and Sirius realized that he probably could not think of why Sirius would not have written to his parents to brag about the details at the first opportunity. It wasn't that Sirius didn't want his family to know what had happened; it was just that it had never really occurred to him before that he could have used the details of the encounter to impress people.

I suppose the Sorting Hat was right, he thought ruefully. I'm really not a Slytherin.

He was saved from having to actually respond by Mr. Avery, who clearly had some sort of agenda for coming over to speak with the Blacks and was not in any mood to allow his son to ruin it.

"Son, weren't you nagging me all morning about looking at the new Nimbus 1001 prototype? Why don't you ask Mr. Black if Sirius can go with you?"

Sirius was not particularly keen on going anywhere with Will Avery, but he was even less keen on sticking around while the adults talked business when he could be looking at a new broomstick instead.

"Father, can I go?" he asked eagerly.

Orion nodded his assent, but a look passed between father and son as they silently agreed that he would absolutely not mention this to his mother under any circumstances, not even under the severest torture.

Quality Quidditch Supplies was on the other end of Diagon Alley, almost all the way to the Leaky Cauldron. Avery chattered away happily most of the way there; if he was bothered that Sirius wasn't responding, he never let it show. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, Sirius stopped and turned to face the other boy.

"Look, Avery--"

"Call me Will," the Slytherin interrupted with an insistent grin.

Sirius ran a frustrated hand through his thick black hair. "Look, Will, I don't know what your game is here, but you can stop acting like we're best mates."

Avery looked momentarily taken aback. Then Sirius continued walking and left him standing there, and by the time he had caught up his usual grin was back in place.

"I'm not playing with you. I wish we had been able to get to know each other last year--Lestrange said that he would properly introduce us, you know, but then we all got caught up in exams--and I'm just taking the chance now."

"Why do you want to be friends now?" Sirius asked skeptically, although with less venom than before. He knew that Rabastan really had intended to introduce them sooner or later, since he had indicated as much after Sirius's confrontation with Evan Rosier in an empty classroom on the way to the library.

"Well I certainly don't want to be on your bad side!" Avery exclaimed with a laugh. "That hasn't worked out too well for Evan."

Sirius allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up. "Just admit that you only want to get close to me to get close to Lestrange and Malfoy."

Avery laughed again. "I'd rather get close to your cousin. I'm half in love with her already and she's never even said a word to me."

"Don't let Malfoy hear you say that."

"Oh, he isn't half as intimidating as Narcissa. In fact, I'm pretty sure that he's scared of her."

Sirius's barked out his own laugh. "Don't let Malfoy hear you say that either."

He was sure that they could have continued, but they suddenly encountered a crowd that seemed to be at a standstill, and he realized that they had reached their destination. Witches and wizards of all ages were trying to press closer to the window display of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and the oohs and aahs from nearer the window could be heard clearly even over the loud chatter from the rest of the crowd. Sirius despaired that they would never be able to fight their way through and get a look at the prototype, and he was about to suggest that they go get ice cream or visit the joke shop instead of standing there being pressed against all sorts of who-knows-what-kind of people.

Then Will shouted from beside him, "Oi! Flint!"

Sirius's attention was turned to a group of large young men who had entered the fray from his and Avery's right. One of them, apparently Flint, was tall and pretty well built, but the other three were absolutely enormous. They appeared to be quite successfully (and brutally) shoving their way through the crowd towards the window. At Avery's shout, the group had turned to look in their direction.

"Flint and Brutus Goyle were seventh years last year," Avery explained as he lifted his hand in the air and waved furiously in the older boys' direction. "The younger Goyle and Crabbe will be fourth years next year."

It seemed like they had changed course to come nearer to where Sirius and Will were standing, and Will grabbed his arm suddenly and pulled him towards the group. It was slightly easier going sideways than it had been trying to go forward, and soon they were close enough that Sirius could make out Flint's large teeth and the coarse masses of hair that he supposed were meant to be the Goyle brothers' eyebrows. Suddenly Avery was wrenched from his grasp, and he gasped in surprise and--though he would never admit it in a million years--just a bit of fear at being left alone in such a large crowd.

Before he had time to worry too much, a large hand closed around the front of his robes and he found himself suddenly in midair. He flailed for a moment before he was planted rather firmly back on his feet right in front of a smirking Crabbe. He had been forcefully carried through the remaining crowd to join the rest of the Slytherins.

"Ah, thank you, Crabbe," said Will, who did not appear as shaken by the ordeal as Sirius was. He straightened his robes with one hand as he gestured towards his new friend with the other. "You all know Sirius Black."

Halfhearted grunts were offered in what Sirius assumed were meant to be greetings, but the older boys were clearly more interested in seeing the Nimbus prototype than in making new friends. He supposed it must have been some sort of Slytherin rule about sticking together that had inspired the older boys to help them, not any sort of sociability or real friendliness.

It turned out that it was immeasurably easier to make one's way through the crowd when following closely in the wake of four rather gigantic and cruel boys who didn't mind a bit of pushing and shoving and skull cracking in the name of getting a good look at a new broomstick. As they got closer and the crowd denser Sirius felt the need to grasp a handful of one of the Goyle brother's robes so as not to be left behind, but soon enough he found himself able to press against the shop window with his hair and clothing relatively intact despite the ordeal.

The Nimbus 1001 was gorgeous, all slender curves and slick edges. Sirius was immediately in love.

"Wow," breathed Flint, and Sirius was surprised to hear that his voice was quite a bit softer than his appearance would lead anyone to believe. Though that could have just been a result of the lovesickness.

Avery wrestled his way under Crabbe's arm and pressed his nose against the glass. "Nought to sixty in ten seconds!"

"Top speeds up to 120 miles per hour!" joined Sirius.

The boys all seemed to sigh as one.

Will sighed again, the sound coming out as if he were somewhat in pain this time. "I wonder how much it costs. I would give up birthdays and Christmases for the next ten years if I could have one!"

Crabbe snorted. "Even if you gave them up for the next twenty years I doubt that'd cover it. Your parents would probably have to clean out their entire Gringotts vault to get one."

Sirius was sure at first that it was an insult against the Avery family and that he would have to back up his new friend in a fight against Crabbe, though he was reluctant to do so and had too big a sense of self preservation to fight if any of the other boys also got involved. However, Avery didn't look the least bit insulted, and all of the other boys seemed to agree with Crabbe's assessment, too.

His uncertainty caused him to bite back his own remark about planning to ask for one as his going away present before leaving for Hogwarts in the fall.

He was partly relieved when he heard his father calling him from the other side of the crowd, but he was also partly sad to have to come away from the window. He said goodbye to the Slytherins, although he wasn't sure if they registered it as their attention was fully on the beauty before them, and made his way back through the crowd. Fortunately it was much easier to leave than it had been to arrive, though he got plenty of nasty looks from people who apparently were not happy about the boys who had shoved their way to the front, and soon he found himself next to his father, who quickly whisked him away towards the Leaky Cauldron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the following weeks the summer settled into a routine of dividing his time between his family, lessons, and correspondence with his friends. Whereas last Christmas he had only exchanged a few owls with Peter to plan their trip to the league final, this summer he found himself writing almost constantly to not only Peter but also Janice, Lestrange, Avery, and also his cousins Cissy and Belley. He also exchanged occasional letters with Mulciber, who had been introduced to him by Avery, and even one or two with Malfoy. He had been worried at first that Aquila would be exhausted by the constant deliveries, but she actually seemed extremely happy to have a lot of work to do.

One morning found the Blacks around a silent breakfast table as they all attended to their various pursuits. Arcturus and Orion were sitting close together at one end of the table with their plates surrounded by stacks of correspondence that Sirius had gathered was regarding some upheaval in the Wizengamot.

"They don't seem to have anything in the way of actual evidence..." Orion was saying as he tried to simultaneously read a letter in each hand.

Arcturus was bent low over a particularly lengthy piece of parchment, but he looked up long enough to give his son an annoyed glare.

"It hardly matters if they have actual evidence if they can make the public think they do. I told the damn fools not to walk out when that Mudblood was voted Minister, that we could take care of it quietly, but did they listen? No! And now ten years and two Ministers later, of course they want back in and have ended up putting those of us who stuck it out and worked to unseat that upstart Mudblood back under scrutiny..."

Sirius tuned them out and turned back to his own stack of letters. Rabastan had written several sheets about the ongoing efforts to equip the entire Slytherin Quidditch team with Nimbus 1001s, which apparently was not going very well. Cissy's letter fluctuated between minute wedding details for Bellatrix's upcoming nuptials and flowery descriptions of things Lucius Malfoy had done or said or worn in her presence lately. Avery and Mulciber, who were apparently staying together at Mulciber's house for the moment, had written a joint letter describing their adventures and asking Sirius's opinion about various things he was sure they didn't really need his help with.

Peter was apparently stuck at home with nobody but his Mudblood mother for company, though he wrote that they were planning to travel to Ireland with her family the following week. Sirius thought that sounded absolutely awful, but he wasn't sure from the tone of Peter's letter whether he was looking forward to visiting the Muggles or not.

I've been studying my father's potions books a bit more since I've been home, began the concluding sentences of the letter, which Peter was lucky had actually caught Sirius's attention before he had thrown the parchment down in disgust. Have you mentioned them to your grandfather yet? I'd really like to get someone's opinion on them.

Sirius had forgotten to bring them up, in fact, but now that he had been reminded it didn't seem like a particularly good time to bother his grandfather. At least not unless Peter's father's potions books contained instructions on how to mitigate political disasters. He would have to ask later.

As he was eager to go upstairs and write back to his friends, he was ready to ask to be excused from the table. His mother was diligently making notes and muttering to herself about floral arrangements, and Regulus had his face hidden in a Charms book that Sirius recognized from the beginning of his own lessons with Grandfather Arcturus, so it wasn't like he would be missed.

Kreacher appeared next to Orion, wringing his hands in evident anxiety. "A Mr. Dolohov is here to see Master Orion, although Kreacher tried to tell him that my master does not accept calls before eleven..."

Orion threw down the pieces of parchment he'd been holding. "Kreacher, move these letters to the study. If you mess up the stacks I will mount your head next to your mother's."

Walburga glanced up briefly from her sea of bridal magazines and letters to shoot a halfhearted glare at her husband, but the floral arrangements drew her attention back almost immediately.

"Come, Sirius," said Arcturus as he and his son rose from the table.

Regulus was so engrossed in his book, and no doubt in his quest to prove to his grandfather that he was a better wizard than his older brother, that he appeared not to even notice that Sirius had been invited to leave with the men when he had not. The three heirs departed the breakfast room in a line from eldest to youngest and made their way towards the front of the house.

Mr. Dolohov was a burly, dark-haired man who had chosen to stand at the window rather than sit on one of the sofas in the parlor. He turned when Arcturus greeted him to reveal a long face dominated by dark eyes, prominent eyebrows, and several days' stubble.

Orion stepped around his father to offer his own hand to the visitor. "Dolohov, thank you again for agreeing on such short notice."

Dolohov sat when his host gestured to the sofa across from the one he and Arcturus had claimed. "Not at all," he replied in a strong voice with just a hint of an underlying rasp. "It is not often that my students have shown such promise at such a young age."

Orion held out his hand to his son, and Sirius stepped next to the sofa, staring frankly at the stranger.

"We would have owled you to engage your services sooner," continued Orion, "but Sirius did not see fit to share the details of his little adventure with his parents. We hadn't thought it was much more than a schoolboy scuffle until Avery's boy told me the whole story."

Dolohov stared right back at Sirius. "Really? Are you shy, Mr. Black?"

The corner of Sirius's mouth turned up into a half grin that he couldn't suppress. "Certainly not, sir."

It seemed obvious now why Mr. Dolohov was here, but Arcturus, helpful as always, confirmed it. "Dolohov here has been engaged as your dueling instructor, Sirius," he explained. "You'll meet with him from nine to noon three days a week. You will, of course, continue your summer lessons with me, but I believe that we can cut them back in light of your new schedule."

Sirius's grin covered his entire face. "I thought that I would have to wait until after next year to learn dueling?"

"Most instructors would not take a student below second year," replied Dolohov before either of the Blacks could respond. "However, most potential pupils are not at the top of their class in all of the necessary subjects and have not already engaged in duels in the school corridors. Your cousin also assures me that you are a natural in the Dark Arts."

"Belley?" clarified Sirius. "I mean, Bellatrix?"

Dolohov nodded in confirmation, and Sirius wondered how a man who appeared to be near his father's age knew his cousin well enough to discuss him with her. He didn't notice the pinched look that Arcturus sent his son at this revelation.

There was not much more to talk about after that, and soon Sirius found himself alone with his dueling instructor in a large, long unused drawing room on the first floor that had been cleared of furniture except for a lone sofa shoved against the far wall. An hour later he was already a bit exhausted from having demonstrated various spells at Dolohov's request and, when the man did not think he had performed them perfectly, being put through drills until he had.

"All right, first thing's first," his tutor declared, running a rough hand through his dark hair. Sirius almost gaped at him and blurted out that he had thought they'd already started, but he managed to keep it to himself. Either not having noticed his student's reaction or simply not caring, Dolohov continued, "You need to learn how to refine your wand movements, become more efficient. Usually people who are suited to long wands like yours have the tendency to be more flamboyant and add flourishes to their casting, but we need to stamp that out of you."

He pulled out his own wand and indicated that Sirius should watch his movements. Sirius saw what seemed like the smallest twitch of his wand.

"What spell was that?" demanded Dolohov.

Sirius racked his brain for any spells that required such a small wand movement, but he couldn't think of any. Dolohov was apparently sick of waiting for a response, because he flicked his wand again in the same way. Suddenly the cushion they had purloined from the sofa rose several meters into the air.

"A non-verbal Wingardium Leviosa!" Sirius exclaimed, truly surprised. "But that didn't seem like a swish and flick at all!"

The man smiled, although it was the kind of smile that Rabastan Lestrange often used, the kind that made the recipient wonder if he was actually pleased or if he was about to attack.

"It was a swish and flick," he insisted. "It does not have to be pronounced or flamboyant in order to work. Only the smallest swish and the barest flick is required, even for charms, where the wand movements are so important."

"Then it can be even smaller and even barer if you're casting something else, like a curse? Or even if you're doing transfigurations?"

Sirius's mind was whirling with the implications, and he wondered why on earth the professors at Hogwarts always demonstrated and encouraged such showy wand movements if they weren't really necessary.

Dolohov apparently did not mind being interrupted, at least not as long as the interruption was intelligent. He nodded, then gestured towards Sirius's wand.

"The real advantage of having a longer wand is that there is so much less movement required in your fingers and wrists to produce the wand movements you want. You can cast almost anything with a tiny flick of your fingers."

Although lessons with Dolohov also included the basics of dueling, such as offensive versus defensive stances, as the weeks passed by Sirius found himself learning more than he had ever thought possible about all sorts of practical things that he could never have learned in a classroom. Dolohov spent the first weeks almost constantly correcting the bad habits he had already developed, and Sirius was so excited to see how much more effectively he could do things he already knew that he didn't even mind that his tutor had yet to teach him any new spells.

Sirius had his dueling lessons on top of his lessons with Grandfather Arcturus, spending time with his family, and keeping up with his friends, and time seemed to fly. By the end of July, all of his friends were pressuring him to spend time together, and after a flurry of owls it was finally settled that they would meet up in Diagon Alley.

His mother had been absolutely horrified.

"Alone?" she had asked, her voice going several octaves higher by the time she had got out the whole word. "Impossible! I forbid it!"

"Now, my dear, do be reasonable," Orion had begun, but he had quickly changed his tone when his wife had turned a glare on him hot enough to melt goblin-forged steel. "Sirius is nearly thirteen, and he will be with a large group of friends," he had placated. "None of the other parents are going, and it would be embarrassing to him for us to tag along."

"Well, then I must love my son more than any of the other parents love theirs!" she had retorted stubbornly.

In the end Sirius had threatened not to go at all if he couldn't go alone, and Walburga had reluctantly agreed. She insisted to anyone who would listen that it was against her better judgment and that if her son ended up being kidnapped by Mudbloods or werewolves then it would be entirely his father's fault. Regulus seemed particularly hopeful about the possibility.

The morning of his trip his mother stayed in bed, which sent poor Kreacher into such a state that anybody would have thought his beloved mistress was at death's door.

His father pressed a Gringotts bag into his hand just before he stepped into the fireplace. "A reward for your marks last year and your progress with Dolohov this summer," he explained with a smile, and then Sirius practically threw himself into the Floo in his excitement.

He landed in the sooty fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately greeted by Avery and Mulciber. Will was grinning like usual, but Nigel did not seem very excited to be there.

"Thanks again for agreeing to put up with Edgecomb and Pettigrew," he reiterated after they had gone through all the formal greetings. "I'm really not sure my mother would have let me come if they were the only ones who would be here. She isn't as understanding about the whole thing as my dad."

Mulciber scowled in his general direction. "Well, Edgecomb's all right, even if she's a girl. Pettigrew, though..."

His friend clapped him on the shoulder. "He can't be as bad as Snape, mate! We don't have to go home with him at the end of the day, either."

There was a crack of Apparition nearby, and suddenly Sirius found himself with an excited girl wrapped around his neck. His hands came up automatically to brace her against him, as she was standing on her tiptoes and leaning so much into him that he was afraid they'd fall over. He had time to take in the sweet smell of her thick curls before she pulled away, chattering happily and claiming one of his hands in her own. He had resigned himself to her penchant for hand holding long before they'd left school in June.

"I'm so glad you invited me today. I've missed you so much this summer! Oh, those robes look so handsome on you; are they new?" The witch who had accompanied her cleared her throat, and Janice turned to look at her as if she'd forgotten the older girl was there. "Oh, Sirius, this is my older sister, Patricia. She finished Hogwarts two years ago. Don't worry, she's just going to do some shopping before she has to be at work, so she won't bother us."

"Hello," said Sirius, when he thought he could get the word in edgewise.

Patricia Edgecomb eyed him with an expression somewhere between curiosity and amusement.

"Hello," she echoed with a smile, glancing down at his and her sister's joined hands. She gave her sister a look that Sirius couldn't read. "It was nice to meet you, but I'd better get going if I want to be at work on time. Janice, I'll see you at home."

She'd barely taken her leave before Peter stumbled out of the fireplace and their group was complete. There was some confusion when they reached the brick wall in the back of the Leaky Cauldron, as they realized that none of them had actually entered the alley alone before. There had been laughter all around when they realized that none of them had quite memorized the pattern their parents normally did. With their five brains together they were able to figure it out, but it had been touch and go there for a minute.

The crowd around Quality Quidditch Supplies had thinned considerably since the last time Sirius visited, but there was still a throng of not inconsiderable size trying to peer into the window.

"Is that the Nimbus 1001?" Peter exclaimed with about as much enthusiasm as Sirius had ever seen from him. "Let's go have a look!"

Mulciber shot him a dour glare. "We've all already seen it, thanks anyway."

Peter and Will both glared at the other boy, though surely for different reasons.

"Well, you can all stand out here arguing if you like, but I'm going in," Sirius declared, then he and Janice made their way around the crowd and towards the door to the shop.

"Going in?" Will echoed incredulously.

The three boys exchanged confused glances and then turned nearly as one to catch up with Sirius and Janice, who had already outstripped them by several meters.

Nigel came abreast of Sirius and shot him an incredulous sidelong look. "They're really strict, you know. They're not going to let us inside just to look at the display."

But Sirius ignored him and approached the burly wizard who was guarding the door to the small Quidditch shop. The wizard eyed him suspiciously, his dark eyes roving over Sirius and his companions. "Paying customers only," he grunted.

"Of course, sir. I'm here to buy a broomstick."

He could hear his friends reacting behind him and could only imagine their expressions. It was clear that the guard didn't believe him at all. He narrowed his eyes and glared hard at Sirius, who smiled back confidently.

"Fine," he grunted again. "But if you don't buy anything, I'll toss you all right back out!"

He moved aside, and Sirius led the group through the narrow doorway. The inside wasn't anywhere near as crowded as the outside, but there was still a fair number of customers. Most of them appeared to be buying Quidditch gear or broomstick servicing kits, but a few were eyeing the displays of broomsticks. He looked up to see James Potter standing next to the display of Comets, openly gaping at him in surprise. Sirius was able to control his surprise at seeing the other boy a little better, but he felt Janice tense beside him and tighten her grip on his hand.

She tore her gaze away from their classmate and looked up at him. "Is is true? Are you really going to buy a broom?"

In lieu of responding, Sirius tugged her towards the Nimbus 1001 display. His friends trailed behind like a row of ducklings. If ducklings were to elbow one another to try to get a better position to look at a racing broom.

The Nimbus looked even more beautiful up close, and Sirius reached out to run his hand lovingly down the slim handle. The crowd outside the window was following his every move with their eyes, and the other customers inside the shop had all stopped what they were doing to look over curiously.

"Now, children, if you only wanted a better look at the Nimbus then I'll have to ask you to leave," scolded the shopkeeper, who had turned away from the Potters and was rushing towards their group as if he expected them to turn into hooligans and destroy his window display any second.

His friends all looked to Sirius to respond, their faces all in various states of disbelief and awe.

He really ought to have put on his most haughty expression and made the man sorry that he had ever treated a Black any such way, but Sirius was so happy that he smiled. "Sir, I'm here to purchase one."

The man stopped short, his eyes taking in every aspect of Sirius's appearance, from his hopeful expression to the obvious quality of his robes and the expensive emerald clasp at his throat.

"Where are your parents?"

"At home, Sir," replied Sirius, his patience beginning to lapse just a bit. He held up his father's Gringotts moneybag. "They gave me more than enough money for the broom."

After that the transaction went very quickly. The other customers in the shop seemed extremely interested and listened as Sirius chose the features he wanted and instructed that it be delivered to Grimmauld Place when it was ready. All of the other children in the shop, with the exception of Potter, had left their parents' sides and wandered closer to the counter, and it seemed like the entire shop waited with baited breath until the Galleons finally exchanged hands.

"You're a hero, Black!" Will declared once they had left the shop. "You had better invite me over to ride it right away when it's delivered, or I'll never forgive you!"

Peter shoved his way between Avery and Mulciber to walk by Sirius's side.

"Did you see the look on Potter's face?" he crowed, his normally dull eyes shimmering with mirth and excitement. "You couldn't have upstaged him any better if you'd planned it!"

The rest of the morning wasn't nearly as exciting, but they still had a good time together. Will's parents had given him permission to buy a familiar, and they all had great fun helping him pick out a white cat with gray markings. Mulciber had lost some of his stiff upper lip in all the hullabaloo of the day, and he was perhaps the most eager of all of them to visit Gambol and Japes. He gravitated towards the particularly painful and humiliating pranks, and Sirius made a mental note that he would not like to give the Slytherin boy a reason to dislike him.

It was Peter who announced a couple of hours into their adventure that his mother expected him home for lunch. Although the Slytherins weren't sad to see him go, they were much politer in their farewells than they had been in their greetings earlier that morning, which Sirius took as a good sign.

After he was gone, Janice leaned up on her toes to murmur in Sirius's ear, "Do you think we'll be able to spend any time alone together?"

"Alone?" Sirius repeated, not bothering to modulate the volume of his voice in his surprise.

"Oooh, Nigel, it looks like we aren't wanted here anymore," cooed Will, a teasing grin lighting up his features.

Janice blushed and Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Mulciber waved him off. "No, no, we don't mind."

"We were about to head off anyway, no worries," said a still-grinning Avery.

"Have fun, kids," added Nigel as they backed away, both still smiling like loons.

Janice seemed embarrassed but particularly pleased with the results nonetheless. She asked him if he wanted some ice cream, but as she was already leading him towards Fortescue's by the arm it seemed to him that she would have done better to simply say, "I want some ice cream." Not that he would have said no, of course. It was just that he was a bit annoyed.

After they ordered, she made no indication that she was planning to reach for her own money. Sirius paid for them both, a quizzical eyebrow raised all the while, and allowed himself to be led to one of the small booths, where she sat right next to him even though the other side was completely free.

He was beginning to get the impression that she considered this to be some kind of date.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week there was a picnic planned for the young people to celebrate Bellatrix and Rodolphus's upcoming wedding. It seemed that Grandfather Pollux was anxious for his grandchildren to use the opportunity of Bellatrix's alliance to all become very close to the Lestranges. To set this melding of their families in motion (and no doubt to make the biggest impression possible), he offered them the use of the Tutshill Tornadoes' stadium for their outing.

Sirius and Regulus were waiting anxiously in the downstairs parlor for Belley and Andy to arrive, as they would be Apparating them to the stadium. Sirius had his nose stuck in a book that Dolohov had given him--Self-Defensive Spellwork, as his instructor insisted that the best offense was a good defense and that he would not be allowed to practice any advanced offensive magic until after he had proven that he could hold his own defensively--but he looked up when he heard his aunt mention his friend's name.

"What about the younger Lestrange boy? Rabastan, isn't it?"

Aunt Lucretia had come home from France a couple of weeks ahead of her husband in order to help the other women in the family with all the final preparations for the wedding, although it seemed to Sirius like all they'd been doing was gossiping.

Walburga set her teacup on the saucer that Kreacher was holding in his outstretched hands.

"Well, he is certainly under consideration, but it would really be preferable for Andromeda to make a match with an older son. Plus we already have one girl marrying into the Lestrange family, and it would be unfortunate to lose this opportunity to align ourselves with another family."

"Surely the pickings cannot be that slim," rejoined Aunt Lucretia.

"Certainly not!" cried Walburga. "It is just that she finds something wrong with every potential husband. The Flint boy's teeth are too large. The Goyle boy is too fat. The Selwyn boy is too short. As her mother has already told her, she had seven years at Hogwarts to find someone who suits her tastes, and it's no one's fault but her own if she squandered all that time."

Her companion hummed in agreement. "At least she is beautiful, so it shouldn't be too difficult to find her someone, even if he isn't as handsome or rich as her sisters' husbands."

Walburga reached for one of the biscuits that Kreacher had laid out on the coffee table, but before her arm was halfway extended the house-elf squeaked and one of them appeared suddenly in her hand. She retracted her arm and continued talking without missing a beat.

"At least her sisters have done very well for themselves. Perhaps Andromeda will meet someone at the wedding."

A thunderous crack came from the entrance hall. All of the occupants of the parlor jumped in surprise and turned just in time to see Bellatrix stalk into the room waving a piece of parchment in one hand and clutching her wand in the other.

"The NERVE of that woman!" she screeched. She thrust the parchment into her aunt's hand. "The GALL!"

Walburga read the letter calmly while her niece fumed next to her chair.

"Oh dear," she said when she had finished. "Well, it seems to me like she is making an honest inquiry. 'I would hate you to think that I am ignoring your invitation when it was most likely the result of a lost owl.' That seems perfectly reasonable if she really did expect to get an invitation."

Bellatrix's curls were flying wild around her, as if she had never finished her hair before storming to Grimmauld Place. "Why would THAT WOMAN think that she would get an invitation?"

"My dear, it is entirely possible that she simply doesn't know how her son has spread her opinions around so openly, and as your great aunt she otherwise would have no reason not to expect to attend your wedding," Lucretia tried to placate her.

"That probably is it, Bella," said her sister, who had appeared in a much more respectable fashion a few seconds after her sister. "Sirius told us about it at a private dinner, and we haven't publicly denounced her."

Walburga took out her wand, and with a few waves she had tamed her niece's curls into the arrangement the young woman usually preferred. Bellatrix seemed surprised, but the action must have calmed her temper somewhat, because she loosened her grip on her wand and seemed to let their words sink into her mind.

Her aunt took her hand gently. "Bella dear, you shouldn't worry about such things so close to your wedding. Take the boys and go enjoy your picnic. I will take care of this unpleasant business personally."

Sirius hadn't thought that the day could get any better, but after hearing that conversation he was practically floating as he walked back to the foyer clutching Bella's arm. Even the long Apparation couldn't dampen his good mood, though he was undeniably glad that his cousin had calmed down and hadn't Apparated as violently as she had when she'd arrived at Grimmauld Place. He was still grinning from ear to ear when they walked out onto the Quidditch pitch.

The first order of business was to join Rabastan and Lucius off on the edges of the group so they could compare their broomsticks. Of course they were all identical except for the different names engraved on the handles--"I can't tell you how annoying it is to share the same initials with your brother," complained Rabastan. "How are we supposed to know which things belong to whom?"--but that didn't stop the three from comparing them.

Sirius couldn't help but notice that Rodolphus kept looking over at them whenever Bellatrix was distracted, and he figured that the older man must wish desperately that he could join them and talk about broomsticks instead of having to stick around for whatever conversation his fiancée was having.

"Probably about wedding arrangements, poor sod," commented Malfoy.

Lucius himself appeared luckier in that regard, since Cissy seemed perfectly happy to let him go off and talk about broomsticks while she blatantly admired his form from afar.

Soon enough their comparisons turned into bragging, and their bragging turned into a challenge. Rabastan insisted that he hadn't been stupid enough to try to race Malfoy since at least their third year, but Sirius was eager to push his Nimbus to its limits anyway, so he easily let himself be cajoled into agreeing.

They circled the pitch at breakneck speed, and he knew that his mother would probably have a heart attack if she could see it. He had an advantage because he was much lighter than Malfoy, but the Slytherin had four years of experience as a Seeker so in the end it was really no contest. Sirius alighted a few meters away from the group perfectly happy to have lost, his pale cheeks still flushed with a mixture of exhilaration and windburn and his hair in absolute disarray. (Lucius's longer hair was in such a state that Sirius figured it would take two house-elves at least an hour to set it to rights, but Cissy seemed to appreciate it.)

The group began cheering and complimenting them as soon as they were within earshot.

"You were very good, Siri," praised Bellatrix. "You should definitely try out for the Quidditch team."

"Oi! Put a sock in it, you hag!" exclaimed Rabastan.

"Traitor!" joined Lucius, pointing an accusing finger at Bellatrix. "He's in Gryffindor, if you've forgotten!"

Bellatrix looked absolutely enraged. "Hag?" she yelled. "Traitor? How dare you call me that!"

The entire group tensed, and Sirius actually went so far as to take a step back from Malfoy so he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

She hit Lucius with a jet of silver light, and in the next second Rabastan's elder brother had hit him with the same. It happened so quickly that Sirius hadn't even seen them draw their wands, and they certainly had not uttered any incantations. Both boys doubled over in uncontrollable laughter, clutching their stomachs and struggling to catch their breaths. The entire group soon joined them, until a minute or two later when Cissy had had enough.

"Honestly, Bella, let them up before they asphyxiate!"

They lifted the Tickling Charms reluctantly.

Rodolphus helped his brother off the ground and clapped him hard on the back. "That'll teach you to call my woman a hag, you ponce."

Both boys were rather red and had to wipe the tears from their cheeks (Cissy helped Lucius with this task, taking quite a bit more care than was strictly necessary), but they were none the worse for wear.

It was quickly determined that anyone who wanted to would be allowed to take the Nimbuses for a spin, and the afternoon was wiled away with broomstick races, delicious food, and happy chatter. Sirius had just plonked down onto one of the enormous magically cushioned blankets when Rabastan joined him, fresh from helping Andy properly mount his Nimbus and take off uncertainly into the air.

"Flying really isn't her strong suit, is it?" he asked rhetorically, flopping onto his back so he could watch the others flying above them.

"No," agreed Sirius. Then before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Do you want to marry her?"

"Morgana's tit, Sirius! Why would you think that?"

The older boy turned onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow in time to see his young friend blush. Sirius was just a bit shocked at the language the Slytherin had used, and he couldn't help the slight flush that suffused his cheeks. Rabastan looked at his flushed face in a way he couldn't read.

He rushed to explain, "My mother said that Andy's considering marrying you, so I thought you must have asked her."

Rabastan's eyebrows lifted high onto his forehead. "Really, she is?"

Then he bit his lip, though Sirius couldn't have said what the expression on his face meant.

"I'm sure your mother would be very unhappy that you told me that," he finally said. "They're probably just tossing around all the possibilities because they're worried she's finished Hogwarts with no suitor in sight. I didn't ask her, though, and I don't plan to."

Sirius nodded. He was inexplicably pleased to hear that. Then another thought occurred to him, and he inquired, "Are you planning to ask some other girl?"

"None of the girls are exactly my type, mate." He grinned at Sirius in a way that the younger boy was sure meant that he was supposed to understand something more than he did.

"Well, won't your parents make you get married anyway, even if there isn't a girl you really want to marry?" he asked to cover up the fact that he wasn't really sure what Rabastan was trying to tell him.

The Slytherin shrugged one of his broad shoulders. "I'm only the second son, so I have a lot more leeway than my brother does... Or than you do," he added after a moment, and his expression clouded over. "Speaking of which, why didn't you invite your girlfriend today? Edgecomb, is it?"

"Gah!" Sirius exclaimed, tossing his hand in the air dramatically. "I never asked her to be my girlfriend!"

Rabastan insisted on hearing the entire story after that, and when Sirius was done the Slytherin was laughing almost as hard as he had been under the effects of the Tickle Charm.

"So she just grabbed hold of you and wouldn't let go, did she? Well, I guess I can't blame her for that, seeing as you're such a handsome bugger." He poked Sirius in the side playfully. "Besides, give her a couple of years and she'll probably grow a set of knockers as big as all of her sisters have, and then you'll be glad to have her around. You know, if you're into those kinds of things."

"Rabastan Lestrange!" reprimanded a high-pitched voice, and both boys turned to see that Andy had come to a stop a few feet from them and was hovering quite uncertainly in place on Rabastan's broom. "Don't say things like that to my baby cousin! And help me off this blasted thing before I break my neck!"

The Slytherin laughed unapologetically, but he sprang up immediately to help her. Sirius was certain that he was much more worried about what she might do to his broomstick than what his broomstick might do to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandfather Pollux's country manor was done up even more splendidly than Sirius was used to seeing it. The large stone house seemed to shimmer under the pinks, purples, reds, and oranges of the sunset, but the sunlight had faded enough that the lights inside the house sparkled through the picture windows. Sirius could clearly see the chandeliers in the ballroom from his place in the rows of chairs lined up in the formal garden nearest the house.

There had been a low, consistent murmur from the crowd ever since they'd begun to arrive, even after taking their seats. From what Sirius could gather, everyone was excited to witness the binding between the Noble Houses of Black and Lestrange, but they were even more excited to see what fine wine and other delicacies the Blacks had arranged for the reception.

Beside him, Sirius felt his brother shift uncomfortably in his seat. Regulus whispered, "When is it going to start?"

"Soon, dearest," Aunt Lucretia murmured back.

"Quiet!" hissed Walburga, barely loud enough for any of them to hear since she was making an effort not to be overheard by any of the other guests.

She needn't have worried, though, because no sooner had she spoken than the noise swelled louder for a few moments and then died down into silence as the music changed. Everybody turned to watch an elderly couple walk elegantly down the aisle. They took their seats on the groom's side and were soon followed by all of the other grandparents of the bride and groom. The couples walked down the aisle one at a time and, in Sirius's opinion, took their sweet time. Probably just because they enjoyed being the center of attention.

Grandfather Pollux and Grandmother Irma were the last of them. "Hmmph!" grumbled Pollux as he eyeballed the elder Rosier couple, whose seats were just beside his and his wife's.

Sirius had to hide his smirk at the fact that his grandfather couldn't even keep his opinion about his son's in-laws to himself in the middle of their granddaughter's wedding, not even when he was being watched by everybody who was anybody in British magical society. Sirius felt his mother stiffen beside him, clearly displeased, but he could hear his Uncle Alphard disguising a chuckle as a cough from a few seats further down.

By the time Rastaban and Adolpha Lestrange had taken their seats in the first row, the lady's bejeweled hat glittering wildly in the fading sunlight, and Aunt Druella had taken her seat after having been escorted by a young man Sirius didn't recognize, he was already getting quite bored of all the pomp and circumstance.

Rodolphus and Rabastan appeared suddenly from somewhere to the side and made their way across the front of the audience towards the altar. They were dressed in almost identical dress robes, with only the flashy emerald pin in the elder's lapel giving away his status as the groom. The lightweight Slytherin green material of their robes hugged their stout bodies in a much more formfitting design than Sirius had ever seen before--certainly much more modern and daring than any of the other robes he'd seen tonight--and he was surprised that Aunt Druella and Mrs. Lestrange had allowed it.

The groom stood proud and stiff facing the Ministry official, but his younger brother turned to scan the crowd in a disinterested sort of appraisal, clearly just as bored by the whole thing as Sirius was. Sirius smiled, imagining exactly what sorts of cruel, hilarious comments must be running through the older boy's mind as he took in the surfeit of elaborate dress robes and even more elaborate hats.

When Rabastan's gaze finally landed on him, he was rewarded with a brief grin in return before the best man seemed to remember himself and schooled his expression into one of appropriate solemnity for the occasion.

Lucilla Lestrange and Narcissa, wearing identical airy, knee-length dresses, were escorted down the aisle by two young men, one of them the one who had helped Aunt Druella to her seat earlier. Sirius supposed that he must be one of the French Lestrange cousins. Andromeda walked down the aisle alone, dressed in a floor-length gown that was the same light-green color as the bridesmaids' dresses.

Then another murmur went through the crowd as the music changed again, and all eyes turned as one to watch as Uncle Cygnus and Bellatrix appeared at the head of the aisle.

Sirius had never given much thought to clothing, but even he could tell that his cousin's wedding gown was an quite unusual piece. The entire thing was covered in ruffles and lace that would have been quite traditional for a wedding gown if it hadn't been almost scandalously form-fitting in the bodice down through her hips. Bellatrix's long, thick curls had been arranged intricately on her head with sparkling emerald pins so that the deep V in the back of her dress was uncovered. Sirius thought that she had never looked so glamorous, which was really saying something when it came to Bellatrix.

The ceremony turned out to be only marginally more exciting than the processional before it. Sirius found himself wondering why on earth people seemed to get so excited about weddings, which seemed perfectly, dreadfully dull to him. The most exciting part of the whole thing was when the elderly wizard presiding over the ceremony said something about the couples' supposedly solemn and sober states of mind upon entering into their bond, and he and Rabastan had locked eyes.

The older boy's full lips formed the word perfectly. Nutters!

Sirius was sure that no one else had noticed, but he had thought he might burst out laughing in the middle of the wedding.

Bellatrix would surely have murdered him, if his mother hadn't done it first.

Afterwards the guests were free to mill around the gardens or through the ballroom for a cocktail hour before dinner was served. Regulus had already been taken home, as he was deemed too young to stay for the cocktail party. After the third conversation full of almost exactly the same small talk, Sirius decided that he envied his brother for getting to leave so early. Finishing his homework for the upcoming term would probably have been more fun than enduring answering the same dull questions.

He finally escaped from his parents' sides as they were waylaid by yet another couple that had stopped them with the same banal greetings as all the others had. He ducked around his father's side as Orion was distracted by an overly exuberant handshake and began to make his way as inconspicuously as possible towards the door leading to the garden. He thought that some fresh air would do him some good, and maybe it was less crowded outdoors.

It might have been his imagination, but as he picked his way carefully through the crowd he could have sworn that people were whispering about him as soon as he passed by. While this time last year he might have assumed that they were just speculating about the his fortune or how tall he'd grow up to be, now he was sure that they were gossiping about his sorting and whether he had truly been accepted back into the fold.

Maybe walking away from his parents hadn't been the best idea after all. Surely it seemed odd that he was by himself and not with his family?

He considered turning around and going back the way he had come, but he quickly dismissed the idea since he thought it would look like he was retreating with his tail between his legs if he changed his mind mid-walk.

A quick glance around the room revealed that Grandfather Pollux was holding court in the center of the room, no doubt taking the opportunity to brag about the marriage and accept compliments on the general splendor of the arrangements. Sirius was unwilling to join him, since he had the tact of a rogue Bludger and would surely bring up the very subject Sirius wanted to avoid.

Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus were standing by the doors where they could best greet all of their guests as they entered the ballroom, but Sirius knew that he would be in the way there. He couldn't catch sight of any of the rest of his family through the throng of expensive fabrics and jewels.

Sirius had determined that he had better just ignore the whispers and make his way out to the garden as he'd originally planned, when a large arm suddenly crashed down around his shoulders.

"Ah, Black, you can't go anywhere without making a spectacle of yourself, can you?" asked Rabastan, his cold public voice filled with something uncharacteristically warm.

Sirius bit back a laugh that was half humor and half sheer relief.

"I don't see where you have any room to point fingers there, Lestrange."

Rabastan smiled, showing his teeth. He always had an air of underlying menace about him, even when he was smiling, but Sirius fancied that he could see genuine amusement and affection in the dangerous lines of Lestrange's face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rabastan replied matter-of-factly. "Everybody knows that subtlety is my strong suit."

Sirius turned to shoot him a look full of disbelief. From this close, he could see that the fabric of the Slytherin's sinfully tight-fitting robes appeared to have been sewn using thread made of real gold. The better to show off the Lestranges' wealth, Sirius supposed. He couldn't keep his lips from quirking up into a smile.

"Oh, yes, of course. Do you have any advice for me, Oh Prince of Subtlety?"

Rabastan leaned his head down so that his breath ruffled the hair near Sirius's ear. "My advice is to stop giving a fuck what they think."

Sirius reared back in surprise at the harsh language, or at least he would have if the muscular arm wrapped around his shoulders hadn't held him in place. He settled for swiveling his head the rest of the way around to scold Rabastan for saying any such thing in public of all places, even if he had whispered it lowly enough that the society matrons probably hadn't been able to hear. He found himself almost brushing noses with the older boy, who waited a few moments longer to straighten and pull away, an expression full of amusement and something unidentifiable passing over his features.

"Oh, do leave him alone, Rabastan," his best friend interrupted as he appeared at Sirius's other side. "Weddings are tedious enough without having to listen to whatever ideas are in your thick head."

Rabastan laughed. "Prat."

"Ponce," Malfoy retorted immediately.

Mercifully, the older boys led him away to a quieter corner of the ballroom, which in addition to being out of the crowd also had the advantage of being right next to the door leading to the kitchens. They could grab goblets of wine and various hors d'ouevres right as they came out instead of having to fight with the rest of the crowd.

"Who's that bird with your father, Lucius?" Lestrange asked around a bite of some sort of mushroom dish that he'd plucked off a tray as it went by.

Sirius and Lucius both turned to look in the direction he'd indicated with his wine glass. Abraxas appeared to be engaged in a rather heated, whispered discussion with an extremely beautiful woman with dark skin and an elegant gown.

"Oh, her," said Lucius with a roll of his gray eyes. "Celeste Something-or-Other. I don't remember what she likes to call herself now, given that she's been married twice already."

Rabastan whistled. "That Celeste? She's not got her claws into your father, has she?"

Lucius chuckled low in his throat. "No, he isn't looking to be the third husband that dies under mysterious circumstances, but it's not for her lack of trying."

Sirius watched the woman point a long fingernail at Abraxas Malfoy's face, obviously furious with him about something.

"Is that why she's angry at him, because he won't marry her?"

Lucius snorted rather inelegantly. "I imagine she's angry because he's been shagging her but didn't invite her to accompany him to this wedding, or to any other event. She must have finally realized that he won't be buying the cow."

Sirius was beginning to come to terms with the fact that the older boys and the men were much different in private together than they were in public, or with women and children. Ever since the first time he had been allowed to join his father and grandfather after dinner, he had increasingly been getting used to the topics of conversation and the swearing, but he was still not entirely used to it. Therefore, he gaped openly at Lucius for a moment before he was able to control his expression.

Rabastan laughed, obviously not the least bit surprised or offended by either the subject matter or the language. "He's been fucking her?"

"Vigorously, as I've had the great misfortune to hear once or twice."

"Well, I can't blame him, mate," said his friend, though he offered a sympathetic grimace at the idea of having to hear one's parent in the act. "Pretty young witch going after an older wizard like that, hoping to get her claws into his fortune... It would have been positively un-Slytherin of him not to take advantage of the situation."

They watched Celeste Something-or-Other stomp away from the elder Malfoy with a scowl on her gorgeous face. He watched her go with an inscrutable expression, then turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

Lucius looked like he might express a further opinion on the subject of his widowed father's affair, but at that moment his girlfriend appeared at his side and claimed his arm, and thus Sirius knew that all discussion of the subject was dead.

Lucilla Lestrange had appeared with her, and she claimed Sirius's arm, apparently not at all bothered by the fact that he'd never offered it.

"Why are you boys hiding in this corner?" she asked suspiciously.

Cissy leaned against her boyfriend's arm, staring up at him adoringly and seemingly totally unconcerned with any conversation going on around them.

"My Aunt Lucretia wants to meet you," she told him seriously. Then she giggled a bit, and Sirius realized that she was a bit drunk. "Well, you know, she isn't really my aunt; she's Uncle Orion's sister, so really she's a very distant cousin."

Lucius gazed down at her in amusement. "I would love to meet her."

"Oh good, because her husband is the British ambassador to France, you know, and he could be ever so helpful..." her voice trailed off as she led her wizard further away from their small group.

Sirius and Rabastan shared a look of amusement, but it was cut short when the latter's sister spoke again.

"Really, Rabastan, I don't want to know what Mother would say if she saw you standing over here like a great fool instead of mingling with someone important."

Rabastan shrugged carelessly. "I'm sure she would say, 'Rabastan, why are you standing over here like great fool instead of mingling with someone important?'"

Sirius had to forcefully bite down the laugh that threatened to escape from his mouth at his friend's unflattering impression of his sister's voice.

Lucilla sniffed disdainfully, not at all amused. "Well, you shan't be allowed to corrupt poor Sirius, at least, by trapping him alone with you in a dark corner. Come along, Sirius."

She yanked him forward by the arm, and he really had no recourse except to go along with it, no matter how annoyed he was. His parents would not be pleased if he caused a scene by forcefully wrenching his arm away from her. He looked back longingly at Rabastan, who was watching them go with an expression twisted up with anger and, if Sirius was reading him correctly, hurt.

The older boy gracefully snatched another full goblet of wine from a tray as it passed by him. He offered a silent toast in Sirius's direction and then threw his head back and drank deep.

Sirius turned away with a sigh and tried to keep his expression neutral instead of glaring at Lucilla Lestrange like he wanted to. She was leading him back towards the glittering crowd and, he knew, the dreadfully dull conversation, if he was being generous enough to even call it conversation.

When Cissy and Malfoy get married, he thought to himself, I'm going to pretend to be deathly ill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: If you Google wedding gowns from the 70s, you will see that they're generally rather loose-fitting, full-bodied numbers. I imagine Bellatrix wearing something more like our modern wedding dresses, perhaps not anything as dramatic as a mermaid but maybe a dropped waist. Something that would not be considered scandalous or too-tight or too-sexy at all by today's standards, but that probably would have been toeing the line in pure-blood England in 1972.

The rest of the notes today are all about money and cars. What fun subjects!

3,000 Galleons is about £15,000 (assuming the exchange rate doesn't vary much from the £5 per Galleon we've been told, although in real life it would), which if converted from 1972 values into today's values would be about £170,000 or $280,000. 2,600 Galleons in today's values would be about £150,000 or $250,000. I'll leave it to you to decide if the necklace was really worth that much or if Burke was just trying to swindle a wealthy customer.

I think we can conclude from talk about broomsticks throughout the series and in Quidditch through the Ages that broomsticks are a bit like cars. There are some basic everyday type models (e.g. basic Toyotas or Fords), some higher-end models (e.g. Mercedes or Bentleys), some "affordable" sports cars (e.g. Corvettes or Vipers), and then the supercars (e.g. Ferraris, Bugattis, McLarens, Lamborghinis). There seems to be a category or brand of broomsticks that roughly correlates to the classes of cars. For example, Comets seem to fall somewhere between the luxury cars and the sports cars. The Nimbus brooms were racing brooms that were specifically made for high performance sports and were miles ahead of any other brooms on the market from the 60s to the 90s (when the Firebolt was introduced), so I think it's safe to say they're the equivalent of supercars and would come with the price tag. (Interestingly, in real life the late 60s and early 70s saw the rise of the real supercar, just like the Nimbus being introduced in the late 60s in Harry Potter.)

This would explain why Harry thought to himself that he would have to clean out his entire Gringotts vault to get the Firebolt, and why he didn't immediately order a new broomstick (be it a Nimbus 2000, 2001, or Firebolt) when his broomstick was destroyed in Prisoner of Azkaban, and instead spent weeks riding the school brooms and borrowing a copy of Which Broomstick? from Wood to look at his options. It seems that he actually wouldn't have been able to afford a Nimbus or Firebolt and still have much money left over, or else surely he would have ordered the best one he could afford right away. Remember that all of his brooms were gifts, even his Nimbus 2000.

So in this story, that's why the shopkeeper is so worried to have a bunch of hooligans near the Nimbus unsupervised, and it's why he has such a hard time accepting that Sirius's parents would have handed him that kind of money and sent him off to buy the Nimbus himself.