Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Three: Our Revels Now are Ended

July 1976

"Of all of us, Padfoot shouldn't be the late one," James remarked somewhat petulantly as he scanned the path leading to his parents' house in Hampstead. "It's his cousin's wedding after all."

"Just the reception, Prongs." Remus finished off the mug of butterbeer that James's mother had served them. "The ceremony may have run late. I'm sure he'll get here as soon as he can."

Peter began to fidget with his tie. "What do you think it'll be like?'

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "I've never met his family except for seeing Regulus at the Slytherin table every now and then. Even Padfoot doesn't speak to him."

"I wouldn't either if I were him. Snotty little prat." James wrinkled his nose. "Had the nerve to call my father a dirty Muggle-lover. Padfoot nearly kicked him across the hall."

Remus grimaced. "I hope the rest of his family isn't that bad."

"His cousin Andromeda is great fun. She was a Chaser for Hufflepuff before we came to Hogwarts. We ran into her at the Leaky Cauldron last autumn, remember?"

"Oh...yeah, I do." Remus thought for a moment. "Though you did monopolise her with your questions about strategy and the Quidditch World Cup."

"Of course I did! She'd just come back from it!" James protested.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door and Peter pulled it open to admit Sirius, resplendent in dark-grey dress robes. "Sorry, all. Got caught in traffic."

"You're looking smart," Remus observed. "How was the ceremony?"

"Interminable," Sirius replied. "Is that butterbeer?"

"It was, yes. I can ask Mum for some more," James offered.

Sirius shook his head. "We'll have to hurry to get back to Grimmauld Place on time. Mother believes in punctuality," he added somewhat acidly.

"Grimmauld Place?" Peter asked, eyes narrowing in puzzlement. "Is that a name?"

"Yes. Mother insisted on having the reception in our house. She wants to show off the family silver or something equally stupid." Sirius made a noise of impatience. "Hurry up."

"How are we getting there? Actually, first, how did you get here?" James frowned. "You're not allowed to Apparate yet."

"Oh, you've not seen the gift I gave myself after O.W.L. exams, have you?" The first genuine smile melted every bit of strain from Sirius' face as he beckoned, "Come outside." They trooped through the door and stopped short at the sight of a shining black motorbike sitting on the driveway. Sirius strolled forward and leant against it. "What do you think?"

"Bloody Hell!" James gaped. "Have you any idea how jealous I am?"

"The green glow is a dead giveaway," Remus deadpanned before offering Sirius a grin. "Nice one, mate. I'm impressed. Though I don't think we can all fit on that thing."

"No, I was thinking Floo Powder. It's the fastest way." Sirius glanced at James. "Might I leave this here for now? In the shed or something?"

"Sure. We don't want to leave it on the driveway." James headed toward the garden shed and Sirius followed, wheeling the motorbike.

Remus shook his head with a rueful smile. "Wow. I could say I'm surprised, except that I'm not."

"As if he needed any more alternative tendencies," Peter remarked. "First, leather, now a motorbike. Next thing we know, he'll have tattoos."

"Don't encourage him."

Sirius and James returned, laughing about something or other, and they hurried back in. Sirius stepped into the fireplace with a handful of Floo Powder and declared very distinctly, "Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

He vanished in a puff of bright green flame.

The other three looked at each other. Remus stepped forward. "Well, here we go." He took a deep breath. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

When he next opened his eyes, it seemed as though he'd awakened in a cave. A very busy cave filled with people, he amended as his vision cleared. Sirius was standing several feet in front of him, one finger over his lips. A few seconds later, a muffled sound alerted them to James's arrival, followed quickly by Peter.

As they ventured slowly away from the fireplace, more details of the room came into view. Like the giant tapestry on the wall detailing the apparently complex Black family tree. Or the luxurious-but-somewhat-claustrophobic green velvet drapes that blocked out the sunlight.

"Sirius, where have you been? What have I told you about disappearing from social occasions?" The voice, both shrill and authoritative, could only have come from the stately looking woman standing near the tapestry. When she looked at them, the three newcomers instinctively shrank back at the gimlet-like grey eyes, so like Sirius' and yet not. "And who are these people?"

"My friends, Mother. I told you about them before." Sirius shrugged, gesturing vaguely to each one in turn, "Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Mrs Black intoned, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly at the trio, somewhat dusty and unkempt from their trip through the Floo Network. Sirius had somehow cleaned himself up in the interim between the fireplace and the drawing room and stood soldier-straight, not a hair out of place. "Narcissa and Lucius are in the Dining Room. I would suggest you greet them properly since you neglected to do so this morning."

Remus could have sworn her eyes lingered longest on him, that she'd barely acknowledged Peter and James, although he had no idea why.

As they made their way through the crowd, Sirius snatched a glass of champagne from a passing ghost-butler and downed it in a single gulp, placing the glass back on the same tray with barely a break in motion.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" Remus muttered.

Sirius grimaced in response. "I'm surprised you haven't started yet."

"Was it just me or did your mother...?"

"Look at all of us as though we were insects? No, that's how she tends to look at me and anyone I associate with," he replied with a shrug. "Well, there's the bride and groom. I can go by myself if you'd rather wait here."

"No, it's alright," put in James from behind Remus. "Might as well meet the other cousin."

"Yeah," Sirius scanned the room quickly. "I don't see Bellatrix yet. Maybe we can avoid her." Slipping easily between two wizards deep in conversation, he offered the couple a half-mocking bow. "Narcissa, my congratulations. And to you, Mr Malfoy. You've picked up the best-looking member of my family."

"Do call me Lucius, young man." Somehow, Lucius Malfoy's voice managed to strike the perfect balance of silky menace, his icy-blue eyes raking speculatively over Sirius. "Seeing as we're all family now."

Sirius returned the gaze boldly. "Of course. I hope the reception is to your satisfaction."

"Sirius!" the stunning blonde at Malfoy's side offered him a smile that could be termed no less than radiant. "I'd wondered where you'd gone."

"Bringing you more guests, coz." There was the slightest suggestion of warmth in Sirius' voice as he gestured toward his three companions, "Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew...Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa...Malfoy." After a second, he added lightly, "It'll take a bit of getting used to, I'm afraid."

"A pleasure to see you again, Narcissa," James immediately stepped forward, flashing his most charming smile. "Mr Malfoy, I don't believe we've ever properly met, though I've heard a lot about you."

"Mr Potter, the pleasure is mine, I assure you." It was impossible to tell precisely how sincere he was from either voice or expression. "You play Quidditch at Hogwarts, don't you?"

"I do, yes. I'm the Gryffindor Chaser, have been since my second year." James grinned proudly.

Malfoy did smile then, though it did not reach his eyes, "I knew I'd seen you before somewhere."

"Yes," Remus replied quickly enough, though he avoided looking directly into Malfoy's eyes. There was something intensely unsettling about the man. "We're all in Gryffindor."

Silvery eyebrows quirked upward, "You too, Sirius?" After a pause, "Of course. I'd forgotten."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Remus was even a prefect last year. Though," he added swiftly, "we've taken up enough of your time, I'm sure."

"Of course not, Sirius," Narcissa protested. "Besides, I thought you promised me you'd dance with me at my reception."

"I did. How could I forget?" Sirius held out his arm to her with a smile that echoed Malfoy's. "So long as you don't mind...Lucius?"

"Whatever the lady wants, she shall have," Malfoy replied with a shrug, though his gaze followed them to the floor as they danced.

"Why did you marry him, 'Cissa?" Sirius murmured under his breath. "He's so cold."

"He's really not, dear. Once you get to know him..." she smiled. "Don't worry about me."

Sirius frowned. "I don't trust him."

"Give him a chance, Sirius, please." She fixed her eyes on him, the clear grey so prevalent in their family. "I love him."

He managed to dredge up a smile, "I'll try, gentle coz."

"But what I really want to know is, did you truly buy a motorbike?" she asked teasingly, visibly relaxing at the genuine smile that provoked.

James, Remus, and Peter exchanged glances, and Remus reached for a glass from the nearby champagne tray. Narcissa and Sirius made a striking couple on the dancefloor, but all three boys were conscious of Malfoy's eyes flitting between his wife and them.

"Hitting the alcohol, Moony?" James enquired, laughing weakly. "I think I may join you."

"Somehow, I think I understand why Padfoot never talks about his family," Remus replied under his breath. "Though Narcissa doesn't seem too bad."

"She's probably on her best behaviour," James observed somewhat caustically. "Padfoot commented that he thinks the only reason she married Malfoy is because he's got enough money to keep her in diamonds and...oh, something unpronounceable...for the rest of her life."

"Balenciaga? Otherwise known as the only designer for us and Muggles both, and please don't ask me why I know that," Sirius' voice sounded from behind James. "And you're probably right. Though she claims she loves him." He shrugged, taking another glass of champagne. "Whatever she wants. If she's happy, so be it. Are you enjoying yourselves?"

"It's...definitely interesting," Remus said. "And enlightening."

"Good," Sirius replied. "And you, Prongs?"

"So this is how the other half lives," his friend grinned. "I knew there was a reason you were such an elitist, Padfoot."

"And yet somehow I make time for plebes such as yourself," he retorted. "Where'd Wormtail get to?"

Remus glanced round. "I have no idea. He was just here a second ago. Maybe we should..."

"Oh, Moony, don't fuss," Sirius shrugged. "I'm sure he'll wander back sooner or later."

***

Peter Pettigrew leaned so close to the display cabinet that his nose nearly left a smudge on the pristine glass door. Within, ornate pieces of silver glowed warmly in the candlelight. On a large goblet, the Black family crest had been carved. He let out a breath, fogging the glass.

"It's a fine collection, isn't it?"

Peter spun on his heel at the sound of Lucius Malfoy's voice, his face reddening instantly. "I'm sorry I...I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, don't worry about it. Nobody would begrudge you a look at the family silver. In fact, Mrs Black is quite proud of the collection." Malfoy studied the cabinet for a second or two, before turning back to the boy. "Why aren't you with your friends, out of curiosity?"

"I wanted to look around," Peter replied, managing not to stammer too much. "I've never been here before." Even his father had never actually visited the Black family home, despite having been Arcturus Black's assistant at the Ministry of Magic. Despite having died whilst working for him. "It's an interesting house."

"Indeed. A pity Sirius doesn't appreciate it as you seem to," he observed. "He ought to be proud of his family, of his heritage. But he seems content to make his poor mother's life miserable by his troublemaking."

"He's..." Peter seemed to consider defending Sirius, but only for a moment. "He does get into trouble a lot. Though he gets Prongs into trouble a lot more."

"Does he?"

"Yes! And Prongs doesn't even care. He claims he's so used to being in detention that he's stopped noticing the difference." Peter shook his head before adding somewhat sulkily, "And he's rather mean to me most of the time, Sirius is."

"That's hardly sporting of him, is it?" Malfoy asked silkily. "An obviously intelligent young man such as yourself ought to command some respect."

Peter flushed a deep shade of red. "I'm not nearly as smart as Sirius or Pr--Potter, or even Remus, though he does work a lot harder than those two."

"Well..." Malfoy drew out the word as if savouring its taste, "I suspect that it might be more a question of not having had the chance to prove yourself. I could help you with that."

"You could?" Peter's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Let's just say...I have friends in useful places." Malfoy smiled, showing even, white teeth, even paler than his silver-gilt hair. "And I think I rather like you, Peter Pettigrew. I'm told your father was a man of discretion."

"You...wow, I...I don't know what to say, Mr Malfoy." Peter felt a curious sensation of endless falling. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Mr Pettigrew." He shook Peter's hand firmly. "I'll keep in touch."

And he turned and departed the library, his hair glittering like tinsel against the deep black velvet robes. Peter remained frozen where he stood, realising only several moments later that he'd forgotten to breathe.

It was sheer chance that he began to make his way back toward the drawing room when he recognised Sirius' familiar sarcastic drawl, this time razor-edged. "Why, Bellatrix. I'd hoped to avoid you."

"Sirius," a throaty female voice replied. "Causing trouble as ever, I see. Though I thought even you would know better than to bring your Mudblood friends here."

"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, Bellatrix." Sirius was deathly quiet, a tone Peter barely recognised as belonging to him. "I doubt Narcissa would appreciate familial bloodshed at her wedding."

"You would threaten me?" The woman--Bellatrix? Was that her name?--laughed shortly. "You have no say in this family anymore, Sirius. You forfeited that the moment you decided to turn your back on everything we hold dear."

"I assume you refer to the mindless bigotry? Thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll pass," Sirius replied, his words aiming to cut. Peter leaned forward, trying his best to see the pair without being seen in turn.

"Are you sure?" If it were even possible, the woman's voice had practically lowered to a purr. From his vantage point, Peter could only see Sirius, half-obscured by a sinuously curving shape clad in deep violet. "You could do very well for yourself. You're a capable boy in many ways. Don't think we've not seen it. If you would only come to your senses..."

"Bella, I've warned you..."

"Warned me of what? Don't you forget, dearest coz, that I can hurt you far worse than you can ever hurt me." She turned slightly to block them from the rest of the room, and a whiff of musky perfume twined sweetly around Peter's nose. "I might even make you beg for it."

"That's enough." Peter could hear the muffled growl in Sirius' voice. "I've made myself clear, I should think. I have no interest in you or your...offers. Any of them."

"Pity. But you always were Andromeda's little creature, weren't you? It just follows that you would be as useless as she's turned out to be. In fact, I can only think of one time when you were even remotely--"

"I said enough, Bella." The words came out as a whipcrack, and Peter was genuinely shocked at the pallor of Sirius' face against the dark tapestry behind him. Just then, however, he realised he had lingered too long in the doorway when a nearby gentleman cleared his throat in an obvious hint that he ought to get out of the way. At that, Sirius glanced up and noticed him, stepping carefully around Bellatrix to address Peter directly. "Wo---Pettigrew. There you are. We'd been wondering."

"I...sorry, I was just looking around."

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not interrogating you. Feel free to look around as you like. Just don't go into the cellar. It's cursed." And with that, he strolled off.

Peter stepped forward, more than a little hesitant, and the sleepy-eyed woman moved into his path, blocking him with the half-empty glass of champagne held in one pale hand. "You're the one Lucius was talking to," she said, her words emerging in a slow, mesmeric drawl.

"I...yes, I was..." Under her bold scrutiny, Peter's stammer threatened to make an unpleasant surprise appearance. "I mean, he talked to me a little."

"And I trust you gave him a better impression than Cousin Sirius did." She held out her free hand, glittering with rings. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"P...Peter Pettigrew." He shook her hand, conscious of how his were clammy from nervousness. She was so close that the perfume was overwhelming, and Peter had to force himself to concentrate on the handshake, not on the imminent threat of one velvet strap slipping off the perfect, white shoulder.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Pettigrew," she smiled over a sip of champagne. "I trust we shall see more of you in due time. I would like that." She melted back into the dimness of the dining room and Peter, swallowing hard, hurried forward to find his friends.

In the meantime, Remus had finished his third glass of champagne and James was well through his fourth. The room had begun to look slightly brighter, if somewhat blurry.

"Where'd Padfoot go?" James asked, clapping one hand on Remus' shoulder. "I thought he said he didn't care where Wormtail ran off to."

"He wanted to make sure Wormtail didn't fall into a cursed cellar or something." Remus laughed fuzzily, "A cursed cellar! Why would you have one of those in your house?"

"For door-to-door salesmen, of course," James replied with a straight face.

"Dangerous indeed. Can't have them running about. It would be unco...unc..." he concentrated very hard, "...bad." Unable to control himself to quite the extent that he was used to, Remus began to laugh, leaning his head on James's shoulder.

"What are you two doing here?" The disdainful twelve-year-old voice they both recognised as belonging to Regulus Black piped up from nearby.

"Regulus!" Mrs Black appeared behind her son and studied the two boys who, by that time, had restrained their laughter and were looking back at her innocently. "These are your brother's friends and they are guests. This means you're to be polite to them."

"Not if one of them's a Mudblood, I'm not!"

An audible gasp filtered through the crowd. Mrs Black's eyes narrowed, even more so when her elder son pushed his way to the centre, eyes sparking flintily in response, "A fine way to teach him manners, Mother."

"Is this true, Sirius?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "What's it to you if it is? They're my guests. I brought them. I take responsibility for them."

"Is this true?" Each word was measured, enunciated, perfectly cut. "Sirius, what have I told you?"

"No pets or Mudbloods in the house?" he asked, somewhere between mockery and anger. "And how many times have I told you, Mother, that I don't care?"

"Sirius, this is a family occasion. I will not argue with you in front of company. Is that clear?"

"Mother, I didn't bring my friends here to be insulted. Make the little maggot apologise or I'll do it myself." He reached into his pocket as if reaching for his wand.

"You will do no such thing." She stared him down. "And as for your friends, you brought them here and you knew the rules. If what your brother says is true, I want all of you out. Now."

"Mother!"

"Padfoot, don't do this." Remus murmured, putting his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "We'll go. It's quite alright."

"That's not the point, Moony," he snapped, before turning back to his mother. "Fine then. But don't expect me to come back."

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," Mrs Black replied coolly.

"I mean precisely what I say, Mother. If you order me out now, I won't be coming back. I'll take my things from upstairs and you won't see me again." He was calm now, and only Remus was standing close enough to see his hand clenched into a fist behind his back. "I'd rather you knew precisely what you were doing."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. You're sixteen years old, you've got nothing to live on." For the first time, an emotion had entered Mrs Black's voice: disbelief.

Sirius stepped back. "What does it matter to you? You've made it abundantly clear which of us is the preferred son, and which one of us you wish had never been born."

"This is melodrama, Sirius, and I won't have it in my house."

"Fine, then." Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room. Swiftly, the other three boys scurried after him, and only Peter glanced back at the silent crowd.

By the time they reached the front hall, however, Sirius had vanished up the stairs. Peter was the first of them to speak, anxious and upset. "He's not serious, is he? He can't be!"

"I think he is, Wormtail," James said grimly.

"I hate to say it, but I can't entirely blame him," Remus admitted with a guarded look over his shoulder at the now-closed drawing room door. "I had no idea..."

"I did." Both Peter and Remus turned to look at James, whose eyes were fixed on the staircase. He continued, not looking at either of them. "Padfoot warned me that something like this might happen. He didn't want to tell you, Moony, because he hoped we might slip through without..." he made a truncated gesture with his hand. "Pure-blood! What a joke! You're just as good as anyone else in that room. Hell, if there was a full moon out tonight..."

"Don't even say it," Remus cut him off. "I'm going to give Padfoot a hand. You two stay down here, seeing as you're...well..." he didn't finish the sentence.

James nodded slowly. Remus hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and found himself in a pitch-dark hallway. Pulling out his wand, he murmured, "Lumos."

The corridor yawned before him, not nearly as long as any in Hogwarts, but certainly larger than any other house he'd ever visited. Shadows slipped out of the way as he moved forward. "Padfoot?" His voice echoed eerily. "Sirius? Where are you?"

On the far end of the corridor, a door opened and yellowish light streamed across the floor accompanied by Sirius' voice, "Come in, Moony."

Remus stepped into the room just as Sirius sat down hard on top of his school trunk in an attempt to get it to close properly. "My God. You really are serious."

"I can't stand it anymore, Moony. I just can't." His voice began to shake and his forehead dropped into his hands. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought any of you here."

"It's alright, Padfoot." Remus settled on the trunk next to his friend and the lid protested weakly as it was forced into place. He fastened the clasps as he continued, as reassuringly as he could, "I asked you. It wasn't your fault."

"I don't understand them. Any of them. How can they be so...?"

It was the first time Remus had ever seen Sirius Black at a loss for words. The incongruity of the image was enough to render him speechless for several moments, and he attempted to cover it up by packing books into a bag. "What all are you taking?"

"Everything. I'm not coming back here. Ever." The last word was so soft that Remus could barely hear it. "You don't have to do that, Remus."

"Don't worry about it." He looked around the room, bare and just as lacking in signs of Sirius' personality as his part of their dormitory in Hogwarts was full of them. "You don't have much here, do you?"

"No. I've started leaving my things in storage in Hogsmeade." A faint smile. "In the Shrieking Shack, ironically enough. Because nobody ever goes there. And I barely come here, so there's no need to go to all the trouble."

"Where are you going to go?" Remus asked softly.

"Prongs already offered to let me stay with him. He said his parents wouldn't mind; they're used to having me around by now." Sirius stood up and grabbed the last of the books off the bookshelf, lingering on a copy of The Complete Works of Christopher Marlowe before tossing it into the bag as well.

"Marlowe?"

"My Uncle Alphard gave it to me. It was a present from one of his Muggle friends. The ones he never told Mother about," Sirius shrugged. "And just so you know, I've been hoarding most of the money Mother sent me. So I'm not destitute or anything."

"I didn't imagine you were," Remus replied. "How do you plan to move all this?"

Sirius stopped and glanced around the room. "I never thought of that. We can't move it all by Floo Powder, can we?"

"No, we can't." He thought for a moment. "I can have Prongs and Wormtail hail the Knight Bus if you'd like. That's not so difficult."

"Thanks, Moony." Once again, Remus caught the ghost of a smile on Sirius' face. "For everything."

"You're very welcome." He smiled in response and hurried down the corridor to find the others.

***

They eventually arrived back at the Potters' house, bearing all of Sirius' assorted bags and his school trunk. The Knight Bus vanished from view and Sirius relaxed visibly as they busied themselves with carrying things inside.

Mr Potter looked up from his cup of tea as the boys trooped in with their assorted burdens and frowned. "What's this all about?"

"Dad, can Sirius move in with us?" James asked almost offhandedly. "He's been kicked out of his house."

"What?" Mr Potter blinked. "I'm...well, I don't see any problem with it, but are you sure, Sirius?"

"I'm afraid so, Mr Potter." Sirius kept his eyes firmly on the floor. "It'll just be for a little while, I promise. Until school starts again."

"Of course, Sirius. You can have the guest room--you know it well enough, I daresay." He glanced between the three boys. "I take it you're all staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, Dad," James looked sheepish. "I suppose I should have mentioned it."

"Usually a good thing, but I'll let this slide due to the nature of the situation. Why don't you take Sirius' things upstairs, but be quiet. Your mother's asleep."

"Thanks, Mr Potter. This means a lot." Sirius finally looked up, his face unreadable.

The older man rose to his feet and looked Sirius in the eye. "You know you're like another son to me, Sirius Black. This just makes it temporarily official."

This time, Sirius had to avert his eyes, for fear that everything from the past five hours would rise up beyond his control. "Thank you," he murmured.

When they had finished carrying everything upstairs, he picked up one of the bags, the one Remus noted had already been packed when he had entered Sirius' room at Grimmauld Place. "Look...Prongs, I appreciate this, I really do. But I need to be alone for awhile."

"Sure, Padfoot. We'll all go downstairs."

"No..." he held up his hand to stave them all off. "I mean, I need to be alone for a few days. Maybe longer. I'll be back before the start of term, definitely."

"Now wait just a minute," James stared, perplexed. "I thought you were staying here."

"I did...Prongs, I can't. I need to think, and I can't think when...your parents are great, and you know how I feel about them, and I will be back. Please don't let them worry."

"Where are you going?" Remus asked softly.

"I don't know yet. I'll send a message, alright?" He walked past them and hurried down the stairs. The kitchen was empty now, Mr Potter having gone to bed as well. "Don't look like that."

"I don't understand, Padfoot. Can't you at least wait till tomorrow? Say goodbye to my parents properly, at least?"

"No...that's the problem, can't you see?" He swallowed. "It'd be all wrong if I was here now. I need time, James. Just let me have it, please." When James did not answer, Sirius slipped out through the front door. Several moments later, they heard the sound of the shed opening and the motorbike roaring into the street. James pushed open the door, followed by Remus and Peter, just in time to see the motorbike lift off into the air and vanish into the night.

"Wow. He never did show us that feature," James remarked quietly. "I don't understand, Moony."

"For God's sake, Prongs, he just got himself disowned. It's hardly surprising he needs time to come to terms with it." Remus sighed. "He'll be back soon enough. We just have to come up with an explanation for your parents."

"The truth?" James offered. "They don't see the Blacks that often, but they've had enough nasty run-ins with the Lestranges and the Averys and such...they'd understand."

At the name Lestrange, Peter's ears had perked up, but it seemed as though both of the other boys had forgotten he existed. So he kept quiet yet again, though in his mind, he clung to Lucius Malfoy's words.

An obviously intelligent young man such as yourself...I have friends in useful places...I'll be in touch.

And Bellatrix Lestrange...it seemed infinitely safer not to think of her. Though in his mind's eye, the perfectly shaped lips smiled at him once again and beneath the web of black lashes, her eyes sparked playfully.

He probably ought to have said something to them. But it hardly seemed necessary. Or even desirable. Peter smiled to himself. Finally something he had that they didn't.