Punishment's Reward

It took me a minute to realize who was crying.

The most recognizable thing about Lily Evans, after all, is her bright red hair. At that point, her hair - and most of the rest of her - was covered in mud, and a gang of Slytherins were continuing to throw it at her.

"Covered in mud like the Mudblood you are!" I heard one of them say. Severus Snape, probably. I was horrified, both by the scene and by the increasingly ugly words directed at my Gryffindor classmate. I was also outnumbered, having decided for some odd reason to go for a solitary walk before dinner. I was alone, and there were five or six of them. I was only a second-year, and two or three of them looked much bigger and older than me.

There had to be a professor around here somewhere. This was too big to handle on my own.

I ran - where? Away. Somewhere, somehow, I bumped into James.

"James, it's horrible...we need to get someone NOW!"

The sun caught on his glasses, making him squint at me. "Sirius, what's going on?"

"Slytherins - Lily Evans - they're throwing mud at her, calling her names, there's got to be at least five of them and some are a lot bigger than us!"

By the time we got back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, they were gone. I was relieved when I saw Lily at dinner that night, obviously just out of a bath but otherwise unharmed. Still, I couldn't help remembering what she had looked like earlier that afternoon.

Later that night, James asked, seemingly out of the blue, "Were Snape and Malfoy there?"

"I heard Snape. Not sure about Malfoy, but it wouldn't surprise me."

Peter looked up at us nervously. "Were they where?" he asked in a small voice.

"Throwing mud at Lily Evans, calling her a Mudblood and worse," I responded grimly.

"Oh," Peter replied in a still-smaller voice, as he looked away. I know that made him nervous, since his mother's a Muggle and his father's a Squib. Snape's started trouble with him before, too, because of that very fact. I could tell that Peter didn't want to think about it, or to think about Snape tormenting someone else.

James looked from Peter to me. "NOBODY treats a Gryffindor that way!" he growled. "Sirius, we need to teach them a lesson. Are you in?"

* * * * *

It is rare, incredibly rare, for me to look forward to a Potions class. While I enjoy the subject, Professor Goyle is head of Slytherin, and shows sickening favoritism to them. I knew that what James and I were about to do was going to get us in plenty of trouble, especially considering which class we were in.

I didn't care. Snape and Malfoy had this one coming.

James signalled to me, and we set up the invisible tripwires between us. A few short minutes later, Snape and Malfoy were bouncing back and forth between them, to the amusement of all the Gryffindors in the class and even some of the Slytherins.

I muttered a last-minute addition to our little enchantment - the wires, though themselves invisible, would leave the faintest trace of foul-smelling mud on whatever they touched. I couldn't think of anyone who deserved that more.

Of course, Goyle had to come in then and figure out who was behind the predicament of two of his favorite students.

"Detention, Potter and Black! And twenty points from Gryffindor - EACH! And make no mistake, your parents will be hearing about this..."

I still didn't care. Neither would our parents, once James and I explained why we'd gone after Snape and Malfoy.

James, of course, did care when he found out that we'd been sent to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing - no magic allowed. Somehow, even this didn't dampen my spirits. "Come on, James, you have to admit it was worth it - they got what was coming to them!"

"I know, but this is still just gross!"

"So was Lily covered in mud like that, and maybe now Snape'll think twice before he does that again."

James seemed to be remembering his own words - Nobody treats a Gryffindor that way! - and that seemed to calm him down. Still, he worked with a resigned look on his face, while I was still smiling as if I had chosen to be here. Perhaps in a way, I had. I tend to act before I think, but I am willing to take the consequences. And at least Goyle wasn't here watching us.

It didn't take long for us to have the entire lot cleaned up, and James practically flew back to our dormitory the instant we were done. I hung back, not sure why - until I heard someone crying in the infirmary. Or should I say I sensed someone crying, since I was sure the sound was too soft to carry to me from that far away?

No matter. I was right. There was a frightened, miserable-looking girl in one of the beds. She wasn't crying so that you could hear, but tears were running down her face, past the mess of dirty-blonde hair that fell over her eyes. She clutched a teddy bear close to her as if it were the only solid thing in a world that had dissolved around her.

And I knew. I can't explain how, but everything came together in my head. There were bruises and traces of mud on her - another one of the Slytherins' victims, obviously. And a first-year, by the looks of her, and Muggle-born. Confused by all the strange new things, by the very idea of magic, and now being forced to take all kinds of crap from the likes of Snape.

Had I thought about this logically, I would have decided that the last thing this poor girl needed was some other odd bit of magic startling her. But I was beyond logic by this point. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at the teddy bear. With a quick succession of spells, I made it grow to five times its former size, wrap its arms around her neck, and hug her.

My idea worked - the tears stopped, replaced by a slow smile and pale grey eyes darting around the room.

"How did you do that?"

I emerged from the corner I was hiding around and knelt by her bed. "Oh, you'll learn how soon enough, I'm sure. You look like a smart girl."

"If I'm smart, why do I feel so stupid? I don't know anything about anything!" she declared, looking close to tears again.

"I don't know a lot of things either. Your name, for instance," I replied, putting on the best silly smile I could manage.

"I'm Linda Anderson. Who are you?"

"Sirius Black, at your service." I pretended to make a sweeping bow, then trip over my own feet, clown-like. It worked; Linda was smiling again.

"Oh...I heard about you...you're one of the ones that tripped Snape and Malfoy earlier!"

"The very same."

"Did they get you too...before? With the mud and everything?"

"No, but I saw them do it to one of my friends."

"Oh." Her face fell. "Then you're not Muggle-born, are you?"

"No," I said quietly, "my family's wizarding ages back, but there's nothing wrong with coming from a Muggle family, Linda."

"But there is! I don't know anything about how anything works - I don't even understand Exploding Snap! And people hate me because of it!" She was starting to cry again.

"Linda, what house are you in?"

"I'm in Ravenclaw."

"Then you must know something. Ravenclaw's the house for clever kids who pick things up quickly."

"But you're not -"

"Nope, I'm Gryffindor. Too much of a bad influence - class clown, not a serious student - Ravenclaw wouldn't want me." I did my best to look regretful.

Suddenly, I caught sight of the time. I'd be in trouble if I didn't get back to my dorm soon. "Listen, Linda. I have a friend, Lily Evans. She's second year and in Gryffindor like me, but she's Muggle-born, like you. She'd know better than I would about what doesn't make sense to you yet. If you want to talk to her about things, I'm sure she'll help."

"Really?" Linda whispered.

"Really. For instance," I said, in a voice that mocked Goyle's rather well, "she would know enough to tell you to stay away from a bad influence like young Sirius Black."

As I walked away from her, she was laughing. My work here is done, I thought, and realized something. It was my work. I hadn't minded this detention because I felt at home working in the infirmary. It wasn't just the nights back home I'd stayed up with my kid sister when she was sick, it was something about making people feel better. And not a minute later, I had someone else confirm my thoughts.

"I'd say you are a good influence, Mr. Black, when you have a mind to be," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "Ten points to Gryffindor for what you just did for me. I've been trying to cheer that child up all night, and nothing has worked. Could I persuade you to come back and help me sometimes when you're not making up for your mischief?"

I wanted to say something silly, but nothing came to me. So I simply met her eyes, said "I'd be happy to," and returned to Gryffindor Tower.