Deny Thy Father

Part I: Beginning to Question

A small black-haired child ran across the courtyard under his mother's watchful eye. The sun streaked through the clouds, dancing off the fallen leaves of red and gold and glancing over the child's determined face. Without warning, the boy fell, hands skidding forward on the cobblestones as he attempted to catch himself and a startled shout of pain and surprise escaped him. His mother swooped down to investigate the damage.

"Not a tear out of you," she said proudly, tapping the little boy's knees with her wand. He choked back the snuffle he'd been about to indulge in and managed an impudent grin instead. She kissed him on the forehead.

"You'll make a fine Black yet, Sirius."

***

The bundle was small and squalling. It stunk and it made way too much noise and his mother was fascinated with it. Sirius couldn't understand why. All that stupid baby did was eat, cry, and sleep, and require never-ending changes of clothing and constant fussing.

His father, who had no patience with a single sob from three and a half-year old Sirius, tolerated the baby's wailing. His mother, who constantly told him to be a little man, cuddled the new arrival to her, cooing.

Sirius felt distinctly put out.

No parent came in the night to tell him he was still loved, or explain that babies required a different kind of care. No one reassured the boy that he still had a place, or held him close and kissed his cheek as they did for the baby.

But when Sirius turned up one morning fully dressed with no help at all, his hair neatly brushed and holding himself perfectly erect, his father nodded approval and his mother smiled. He pulled his mother's chair out that night at dinner, like he'd seen his father do so many times. He was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. Sirius got the message loud and clear- it was time to grow up.

***

There were children in the street, playing some sort of ball game. Sirius watched them wistfully. They dressed differently than he did, in jeans and t-shirts, but other than that they looked pretty normal and they were his age. They would be more fun than anyone else in this house, anyway- certainly better than his parents or his tutor. He opened the door.

"Where are you going?"

Sirius turned around to glare at his five year old brother. "Outside."

"You're not s'posed to."

"Says who?"

"Father."

"Father's not here right now. Besides, I'm not going far."

"I'm gonna tell."

"Fine, prat. Tell." Sirius stepped out and slammed the door behind him.

Because of the wards his father had placed on the house, the children didn't see Sirius until he was standing right by them. The tallest boy looked at him in surprise.

"Where did you come from? And what are you wearing? Is that a dress?"

"No, it's a robe. Could I have a go?" Sirius glanced at the bat the boy was holding.

"What, a nancy-boy like you, playing a real man's game?" the boy scoffed, and the other boys laughed. Sirius just shrugged. "All right then," the boy agreed, tossing Sirius the bad. "Take a whack. Oi! Sid! Toss one up!"

Sirius had never played, but he'd watched the boys often enough from the window. As the ball came he swung and with a loud crack the ball went flying.

The boys were left looking at him with a new respect. "Blimey," the tall boy said. "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

Sirius didn't really know how to answer.

"What's your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Never heard of you. I'm Neil, and that's Sid, Colm, John, and Dave."

"Hi."

"How come we've never seen you at school?" Sid asked.

"I have a tutor. Lots of people do, don't they?"

"Only if you're rich," Dave said. He was looking at Sirius's robes. "You are, aren't you?"

Sirius shrugged again.

"Are you royal? Like the nobles?"

"I... don't know. We're pureblood, if that's what you mean."

One of the boys whistled. "Well, Sir Sirius, want to join us? Teams of three?"

"All right."

They played for another hour. Sirius was quick to pick up the rules of the game, and Neil was very helpful in explaining the fine points. He was enjoying himself very much when a strong hand caught his collar.

"Sirius Black!" his father shouted, yanking hard. "You come with me right now, young man. You are in very deep trouble!"

With a sinking stomach and a worried glance at his new friends, Sirius obeyed.

His father was silent as he dragged his eldest into the house, but his fury was so great it was nearly palatable. Sirius shivered. He'd rarely been in this much trouble before. But then, he'd never so directly disobeyed an order before, either.

"Did you find him?" Sirius's mother hurried into the room. "Oh, thank heavens. Sirius, you're filthy! Where were you?"

"He was outside," his father answered before Sirius could say a word. "Playing with Muggles."

All traces of his mother's concern dropped, and her eyes flashed angrily. "Muggles?" she said, her face screwed up as if she'd just eaten something sour. "Sirius, you know better than that. What were you thinking? You're father has told you time and time again not to go outside!"

"I wanted to play with them," Sirius explained. "They were playing ball and I-"

"I don't care. How could you be so thoughtless? There is a very good reason your father makes the rules he does, Sirius! A Black, playing in the street with Muggles! The shame of it!"

"It was just a game of ball!"

"No it wasn't, Sirius!" his father spoke now. "Contact with Muggles is dangerous- it is a breech of security in the wizarding world!"

"I didn't tell them-"

"It doesn't matter. They are sneaky, treacherous, and not to be trusted, Sirius! I cannot impress this upon you enough!"

Privately Sirius thought that these words didn't seem to apply to Neil, who'd been so nice and helped him understand the game. But he had the sense to keep his mouth shut as his father continued to rage at him.

"You're confined to your room for the next week, Sirius," he finally finished.

"Yes, sir."

"And you will never speak to those boys again."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but his father's hand was posed to strike.

"Yes, sir."

***

"I'm worried about Sirius," his mother said late that night.

His father didn't look up from his reading. "He has to learn, Elizabeth."

"No, no. I didn't think you were too hard on him. You were right. But he is lonely."

"He'll be in school in a few years."

"Yes, but that's a long time for a boy his age, Arden."

He put down the parchment he'd been studying. "What are you trying to suggest?"

"Couldn't we have some of the other families bring their sons over?"

"No one worth knowing lives close enough. You know that. There's no one around here. At least, not with boys his age or close."

"I guess." She sighed.

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's only for three more years."

***

His father had forbidden contact with Muggles, but that didn't stop Sirius from watching out the window. It wasn't fair. Neil and Sid and the others were really nice- and lots more fun than stupid Regulus who could only tattle.

Sirius wanted to obey. He wanted to be like his father- respected and successful, rich and very powerful. He wanted his father's approval and his mother to smile proudly when she looked at him. But as he opened the window he could hear the boys calling to each other, and more than anything Sirius wanted to join them.

There was an apple tree by his window- an old, gnarled structure that bore wooden-tasting fruit in the autumn. The branches were sturdy and strong... and far too conveniently placed.

Within moments, Sirius was free.

***

"Do you always have to wear those robes?" Neil asked a week later.

Sirius shrugged. "Don't own anything else."

"Royal people are weird," Neil said with a wrinkled nose. The boys hadn't been able to sort it out, but with Sirius's strange attire, insistence that he was a pureblood, and regal and cold father, he had to be royal.

"I have a few old shirts that are too small for me," Sid suggested. "And an old pair of jeans. You'd have to roll them up, but you could borrow them for games."

"Really? Thanks!"

Sid was true to his word, and the next day he brought some old castoffs for Sirius to wear. When Sirius got them home he did check them over carefully, but there were no pins waiting to jab into him or razor blades to dying to cut his skin. They were just clothes.

He realized that they were also a disguise. The night he was out a little too late his father did not recognize him, because there was no way the son of Arden Black could be playing in the street in Muggle clothing. It simply wasn't possible.

And without realizing it, Sirius granted himself a small measure of freedom.

***

"Boarding school!" Neil exclaimed.

"Yeah. I leave September first." Sirius bounced the ball back and forth on his knees.

"Your family must be really posh to send you to boarding school," Sid declared.

"Will it be awful?" Colm asked.

"Nah- it will be great." And Sirius meant it. But even as he said it he could feel the gap widening between him and the others. It was sad, but part of Sirius just mentally shrugged. They WERE Muggles, after all, and now he'd finally be around others his age from his world- people he could really be friends with. Once he had wizarding friends, he'd be fine.

***

"I can't believe you're starting Hogwarts," his mother said, checking over his packing. There must be mothers saying that all over Britain, Sirius realized. He sat down on the bed and sighed.

His mother noticed. "What is it?"

He fidgeted.

"Are you excited?"

"Yes, but..."

"Well?"

He looked up at her, distinctly uncomfortable. "Mother... is it okay to say I'll miss you?"

His mother smiled. "It's fine, Sirius." In a rare gesture she reached out and ruffled his silky black hair, and then smoothed it back into place again. "Now. Behave yourself while you're there, understand? You're representing the Black family now."

He received a similar speech from his father over breakfast, but much longer and with a few threats; threats that Sirius was well accustomed to hearing and quite bored with. He kept wondering what Hogwarts would be like, what his roommates would be like, and most importantly, what it would be like to be around other wizards his age. By the time his father said that it was time to go to King's Cross, Sirius was ready to jump out of his skin.

They took brooms, leaving Regulus behind in the care of the house elf. It made Sirius feel very grown up to be out with just his parents, headed to school. He was beside himself with excitement, but with his father's stern eye on him he was able to contain it.

The platform was crowded with families waiting for the train. Sirius had no idea that so many wizarding families existed. He caught the eye of another black-haired boy and grinned. The boy smiled back, pushing his glasses up his nose.

His mother noticed the direction of Sirius's glance and nodded. "Excellent, Sirius," she said, her voice radiating approval. She nudged his father and indicated the family. His father nodded in an identical manner to his mother, and approached the boy's father.

"Timothy Potter, am I correct?" he said with an extended hand.

The man, who looked very much like his young son, started and then took Mr. Black's hand. "Yes, indeed, I'm afraid so," he said with a good-natured grin. "You're Arden Black, right? Pleasure to meet you." They shook. "This is my wife, Amelia." The mother inclined her head towards Mr. Black, but her warm smile reached Sirius and his mother. "And this is our son, James," Mr. Potter was saying. "He's a first year this year."

"So is Sirius." His father's hand was on his back, pressing him forward. "And this is my wife, Elizabeth. I saw your article in the Prophet the other day. Fascinating as always. But have you considered the implications of your stance?"

"Of course. I-"

James's eyes met Sirius's, and he rolled them. Sirius smirked, and with his hands made the little "talk talk talk" motion that kids stuck in the line of fire of grownup conversation make everywhere. James pulled a face, and Sirius puffed his chest out and scowled in an excellent imitation of his father. James stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.

They hadn't even left the train station, and already Sirius had a friend.

***

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius was surprised. He'd been expecting Slytherin. But one House was the same as another, he supposed, and he slipped off the stool and headed towards the Gryffindor table.

"Congratulations, mate," said the red-headed boy he sat down next to. "I'm Tom Weasley. I'm one of the prefects."

Weasley... biggest bunch of blood traitors... a little voice whispered in Sirius's head. But he ignored it. "I'm Sirius Black," he said, unnecessarily.

"Of course," Tom laughed, and Sirius blushed. He smiled uncomfortably and turned back to the Sorting.

A pretty girl with read hair was the next to be sorted into Gryffindor. "Is she a Weasley?" Sirius asked Tom over the applause.

"Hey now! Just because we're a big family doesn't mean every redhead in Britain is related to us!" Tom laughed. "No, she's not. Not that I know of, anyway. They said her last name was Evans."

"Oh." Two more girls were sorted into Gryffindor, and then finally a boy. Sirius perked up, eager to see his new roommate. He was a small, skinny boy with shaggy brown hair and if Sirius had heard correctly was called Remus. He gave the new arrival a quick smile and then focused on James. He really hoped James would be a Gryffindor, too.

A boy named Peter Pettigrew was now sitting on the stool. It seemed like he was sitting there a long time- Sirius had been a quick decision and the hat had barely touched Remus's head. Finally, the hat pronounced Peter a Gryffindor and he scurried over. James would be next. Sirius crossed his fingers and held his breath.

"James Potter!"

James stepped forward, put on the hat, and sat on the stool.

It was almost as quick as it had been for Sirius. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius let out a cheer with the others. James hurried over and sat down next to him, and Sirius gave him a high-five. His chest relaxed and he felt like he could breathe again- he hadn't realized he'd been so tense.

"We're getting a lot of girls this year." Tom, sitting next to him, was still watching the Sorting. "You're going to be some very lucky blokes!"

Just four blokes, it turned out, and seven girls were in Gryffindor this year once the last student had been called. "Glad that's over," Sirius said as Dumbledore announced the feast could begin. "I'm starving!"

"Me too," Tom said. "So what house were you expecting, Sirius?"

"Huh? Me? How'd you know I was expecting anything?"

"You should have seen your face when the hat said you were in Gryffindor!"

"Oh. Well, Slytherin, to be honest. All of my family's been in Slytherin, I think, except my cousin Andromeda- she was a Hufflepuff."

"I kind of thought I might be Slytherin too," James admitted, and then shrugged good naturedly. "But my dad was a Gryffindor and my mother was a Ravenclaw. What about you, Peter?"

"I thought I was Hufflepuff for sure. We haven't met, have we?" Peter said, holding his hand out to Sirius. "I'm Peter Pettigrew."

"Sirius Black." Sirius grinned at him.

"What about you?" James prodded Remus, who was quietly pushing around a pile of mashed potatoes. The boy jumped. He was pale and looked downright frightened, Sirius realized. How silly. Wasn't Gryffindor supposed to be for the brave?

"I guess I thought I'd be a Ravenclaw," Remus was saying quietly. "Dad was, and Mum certainly would have been if she'd gone to Hogwarts."

"Where'd your Mum go?" Sirius asked. "Beauxbatons or Durmstrong?"

"No place. Well, no place magical. She's not a witch," Remus answered, still stirring the potatoes.

"You're a Mudblood?" Sirius said with surprise. The entire table fell quiet immediately. It was that loaded, angry sort of silence that clearly shouts that you've said something wrong. "What?"

Remus's eyes had narrowed to small slits. "What did you call me?" he asked.

"A Mudblood. It's a name for someone whose parents aren't magic, isn't it?" Sirius asked. "That's what my father says."

James struggled to compose himself. "It is, but only if you really want to insult the person. The rest of us just call them Muggleborns."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Tom was softening. "Are you really this clueless?"

"I... guess." Sirius looked around at the angry faces. "Yeah. I guess I am."

***

He caught Remus Lupin on the way up to the Gryffindor tower. "Look, I'm sorry," he said, with no preamble. "I really didn't know it was a bad word. My father never calls Muggleborns anything else. Really."

Remus turned to face him and sighed. "Did it ever, just once, occur to you that calling someone something that has 'mud' in it might not be, well, nice?"

Now that he said it, Sirius felt stupid. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry. I've never met a Muggleborn before."
Remus sighed again, resigned. "S'okay. I've never met a pureblood before, to be honest." He gave a shy smile. "And technically I'm a half-blood. Quite literally. My Dad is a wizard."

"Oh." Sirius thought about this. It was something he knew existed, but was looked down on with great suspicion. By his father, at least, that little voice said. "So what's it like living with a Muggle?"
Remus shrugged. "What's it like not living with a Muggle?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but before he could James and Peter ran up and grabbed them. "Run," James commanded.

"Run?"

"Run! James set off a dungbomb!"

Behind them there was a loud bang. James, Peter, Sirius, and Remus ran.

***

The large tawny owl dropped a letter on Sirius's plate at breakfast. "Would it kill you to miss the eggs? He shouted as the bird winged off.

He picked it up, wiped it off, and opened it, recognizing his mother's elegant script immediately.

Sirius,

I'm so glad to hear you are settling into Hogwarts. I must confess I was shocked to hear you were sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin, but I am certain you will do the House of Black proud regardless.
It is quiet without you here, but Regulus keeps us going. He is doing extremely well with his studies, and will be starting multiplication and division with Professor Mathes...

She went on about Regulus's lessons and activities for several paragraphs. Sirius wrinkled his nose and scanned impatiently. Who cared what the little twit was doing? Ah, there. She was done.

I am very pleased to hear you have become friends with James Potter. Your father comments on it every time he sees one of Tim's articles in the Daily Prophet. He says that Tim is an impractical idealist, but he and his wife are very respectable people. Your father also says the Pettigrews are a decent family. Not quite our class, of course, but they are purebloods. Peter should be an acceptable friend for you.
I must caution you about this Remus Lupin, however. Your father investigated his background. As you know, Headmaster Dumbledore is not as discerning about certain students as he should be. The Lupin boy may not have told you, but he is most assuredly a Mudblood. I realize you can not avoid him as you are in the same House, but be aware that he is not to be trusted and is not worthy of your notice.
Good luck with your studies, and write again soon.

Mother

Sirius made a face, scowling at the last paragraph.

"I don't think it notices." The subject of said paragraph sat down across from him. "And anyway, what did that poor parchment ever do to you?"

"Letter from home," Sirius explained.

"Oh. Bad news?"

For a brief moment Sirius considered telling Remus what his mother had said. But he didn't want to. It had taken long enough for Remus to say more than please or thank you to Sirius after the Mudblood incident. "Just a load of rubbish about my brother," he said, not lying. "Who cares what the little monster is up to?"

Remus smiled, but the smile seemed off. Before Sirius could analyze it, Remus asked, "Is he really that bad?"

"He's bloody awful. Whining, complaining, tattling Momma's boy."

Remus grinned again, but this time for real. "Hello, James. We were just talking about you."

Sirius whirled to see his best friend standing behind him. He relaxed as he saw the grin on James's face.

"Yeah, who else could you be talking about with such a glowing review?" James asked. "What's up?"

"Sirius just got a letter from home, detailing the exploits of one Regulus Black." Remus tore a croissant into thirds and managed to shove an entire third into his mouth. "He failed to be fascinated by said descriptions," he said around the mouthful of pastry.

"My mother would have you called up on the carpet for your table manners," Sirius said, watching with a disgusted fascination.

"Yeah, it drives Mum nuts too, but I'm in a hurry. I have to finish that essay for Transfiguration."

"What?" James exclaimed. "It's not due for two more days!"

"Yeah, but I have etiquette lessons tomorrow night," Remus quipped, cramming the rest of the croissant into his mouth and scooping up his books. "See ya."

***

"Do you think Remus can be trusted?" Sirius whispered to James three days later.

"Not in Potions class, no. Isn't the solution supposed to be blue?"

Sirius looked over to where Peter and Remus were working. Their orange concoction was spitting venomously, unlike the serene blue liquid he was stirring. "Seriously, though. I mean, where was he last night?"

"You heard him," James said with a grin. "Etiquette class!"

"Not with the way he ate lunch!"

"So he spilled some soup on you. Get over it already. Maybe the hospital wing- he doesn't look so good today." James snickered. "Etiquette classes must really take a lot out of a person."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but James was right. Remus looked exhausted, almost as if he were sick. But he hadn't said a word about where he'd been when pressed, and if he'd been sick surely he would have told them?

"So do you think he's trustworthy?" Sirius decided to return to the subject at hand.

"Why do you keep asking that? What are you planning on doing? Storming the castle? Dueling Snape and looking for a second? Leaving piles of galleons out in the bedroom?"

"No, I..." It was a good question. What DID he expect Remus to do? "It's just Mother. She says I shouldn't trust him because he's a Mud- er, half-blood."

"No offense, Sirius, but your mother needs to get her head out of her arse."

Sirius blinked at James blankly. He had no idea what to say to that.

***

The snow was falling thickly when the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross station.

"Finally!" James said, stretching. "We're here." He elbowed Remus, who was asleep beside him. Remus muttered something, but didn't wake up.

"I don't get it," Peter whispered.

"What?" Sirius was gathering together the gobstones they'd been playing with.

"Remus went home two days ago to visit his mum, right? Because she was sick? Why didn't he just stay with the holidays so close?"

Sirius and James exchanged glances, eyebrows raised. It was a really good point.

Before they could discuss it further, the train lurched to a stop. Sirius and James grabbed their bags, Peter shook Remus awake, and the four of them stumbled off the train.

The platform was crowded with parents, and they had to stand on their toes to see. James's parents found them first.

"James!" Amelia Potter attacked her son and smothered him in an embrace. His father was right behind.

"Mom- ger'off!" James was struggling to free himself.

Sirius laughed. "Have a good holiday, James!" The three pushed a little further.

Next to Sirius, Remus started. "Oh- there's my dad. See you guys later! Merry Christmas!" Before Sirius or Peter could answer, he slipped through the crowd, met immediately by a man that wrapped an arm around his shoulders and took his bag. Sirius watched them for a moment, then Peter cried out.

"Are your parents here?" Sirius asked.

"They must be! Here come my sisters!" Peter waved eagerly at two little girls who were weaving through the people. They both launched themselves at their older brother, hugging him tightly.

"Peter!" one of the girls shrieked. "We missed you!"

Peter's face was flushed pink with pleasure. "I missed you too. Where are Mam and Da?"

"Back there. C'mon."

They wormed through, towards a couple that were standing waiting. The woman was small, plump and smiling, and the man beside her had a cheerful-looking face. And next to them was the object of Sirius's own quest: Arden and Elizabeth Black.

They looked different to him. Perhaps it was because they were standing next to the Pettigrews.

They looked taller, more regal. Sirius was very aware that his parents' robes were very fine quality, and the heavy silver chain that hung at his mother's neck looked out of place next to Mrs. Pettigrew's more casual dress. His father had been talking to Mr. Pettigrew in low undertones, but as they boys approached they broke off their conversation. His father nodded, but his mother smiled and lifted her hand in greeting.

"Mother." Sirius finally made it to them, and kissed his mother on the cheek formally. Beside him, Peter was hugging his father tightly. Sirius turned his eyes back to his own father, and extended his hand. "Father."

Arden Black smiled with approval, and clapped his oldest son on the shoulder. Sirius's heart soared. He straightened with pride, and was rewarded with his mother's hand on his other shoulder. "Let's go home."

***

"They seem like decent people, the Pettigrews," his father said as they entered the house. After the months of activity at Hogwarts and the noise of the station, the big house seemed overwhelmingly quiet to Sirius. "Not our class socially, of course," his father was saying, "but they have their priorities straight. What's Peter like?"

"He's great," Sirius said idly. "Not the best at lessons and all, but he's a load of fun." He was looking around the foyer.

One of the classes they were required to take at school was called Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had never really occurred to Sirius until now that some of the magic his family practiced might be considered Dark. In fact, he realized, he knew very little about what his father actually did, only that he was important in the Ministry.

"We'll have a full house for Christmas," his mother said, snapping Sirius out of his thoughts. "Elladora and Richard are bringing Bellatrix and Andromeda, but I think Narcissa is going to be with the Malfoys this year. Your grandmother Prewett will be here, as well as your great uncle Alphard. You'll have to sleep on the floor in Regulus's room."

"What?"

"Well, we need the beds."

"Why doesn't he sleep on the floor in my room?"

"Don't argue with your mother, Sirius."

"Regulus is a growing boy. He needs good sleep."

"So do I," Sirius muttered, but at a stern glance from his father he added, "Sorry."

His mother sighed and shook her head. "Just behave, Sirius. The last thing I need over the holiday is to cope with some teenaged issues. You might as well put your things into Regulus's room now. Alphard will be here tonight."

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said, but it lacked the normal submission. He did his best not to stomp off.

Regulus was in his room. "You can have that bit," he said, gesturing imperiously to a quarter of the room.

"Don't put your clothes on my side, or I'll tell."

"Tattle tale."

"Idiot."

"Prat."

"Berk."

"Wanker."

Regulus didn't respond, and Sirius turned away, happy to have the last word. Then, "You're going to be in so much trouble."

"Why? I haven't done anything."

"Mother says you have a Mudblood friend."

"There's a half-blood in my dormitory, yes. So?" Sirius demanded, but his stomach twisted guiltily even as he said it.

"Mother says Father's going to be furious when he finds out."

"I can't control who Dumbledore lets into Hogwarts. And besides, Father already knows."

"Oh."

"Ha!" Thoroughly annoyed, Sirius grabbed his school bag and left the room.

He spent the afternoon in the library, intending to work on his homework. But he got distracted and spent most of the afternoon curled in a chair, reading a book he'd found on his father's shelves. It was not an easy book: the words were long and the sentences were complicated, and Sirius wondered how much of it he really understood. If he understood it right, it didn't seem like the author had thought things through. But it had been published, right? It must be good.

"Sirius?"

He started up, noticing that it was quite late in the afternoon. "Hello, Father."

"Uncle Alphard is here."

"Oh. All right." Sirius marked his place and put the book down. His father noticed.

"Ah. He picked the book up, flashing the title. Purebloods: the Nobility of the Wizarding World. He turned it over in his hands. "This is an advanced book for you, Sirius." But his tone was admiring, not disapproving.

"It's not that hard. I have a question about it though."

"I'll be happy to answer."

"The author says that pure-blood marriages are the only way to ensure the survival of the wizarding race. But won't we eventually run out of purebloods to marry?"

His father shook his head. "Not at all. Come here, son." He extended an arm and Sirius obeyed. "See this tapestry? It represents our family tree. It starts with a very few people, but look how it's branched here at the bottom. As purebloods marry and have children, they multiply."

"Yes, but I couldn't marry a lot of them," Sirius pointed out. "I couldn't marry Narcissa or Bellatrix, or even Molly or Maria."

"No. But you could marry Tessa or Valentine," his father said. "Anyone from..." he pointed to a spot, "here on out is acceptable. And, of course, other pureblood families have trees like this too." He chuckled. "You aren't thinking of getting married already, are you?"

Sirius smiled up at him. "No, I was just reading and-"

"Well, like I said, it IS an advanced book for you. But I am very pleased to see you taking an interest in the subject." His father studied him. "We'll talk much more about this aspect in a few years. You don't even have to think about it until you're over seventeen. Then we'll find you the right girl."

"Whatever," Sirius shrugged. The concept of marriage and romance as applied to him was not remotely interesting. He wanted to ask more questions in order to prolong this rare, grownup moment when his father talked to him like... well, like what? Not an equal, but... Unbidden, he remembered Peter hugging his father, and Remus's father putting his arm around him and taking his bag. "What about Squibs?" he asked his father, trying to banish those thoughts. "They can be born into pureblood families, right?"

"It's sad, and it's rare, but yes. It- oh, Elizabeth."

"There you are." Sirius's mother had been standing in the doorway.

"We were just having a little chat," Sirius's father said. "Sirius decided to do some extra reading." He held up the book, and Sirius's mother brightened.

"Very good. But I thought I should let you know Alphard is here." She ushered the man in.

Great uncle Alphard had always been one of Sirius's favorite relations. A confirmed bachelor, Alphard traveled all over curse-breaking for Gringotts. Last time he had visited Sirius had been nine, and Alphard had brought him the most wonderful finger puzzle from China. But when his great uncle entered the room, Sirius was shocked at the change in him.

How could someone age so much in two years? Alphard had always looked young for his age, but now he looked like it had caught up with him overnight. He was thinner than Sirius remembered, and looked tired and worn. However, he did smile at his great nephew.

"Well, well, well. Look at you. Grown and a Hogwarts student now from what I hear."

"Yes, sir." Sirius smiled back at him something that approached impudence.

"I also hear you've committed the terrible crime of being sorted into Gryffindor. Good for you!"

"Alphard, don't encourage the boy."

"Nonsense! Gryffindor is a fine house! I should know!"

"Were you a Gryffindor?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Indeed I was. And still am, at heart. We'll have to have a long talk later, you and I. Gryffindor secrets," he explained, winking at a disapproving Arden.

They did talk, much later that night. Sirius enjoyed the man-to-man way Alphard addressed him, the privilege of staying up late, and the watered down glass of firewhiskey his uncle permitted him to drink.

"So tell me about your friends," Alphard said, after he'd told Sirius the secrets of the tower and how to get into the kitchens. "What are they like?"

"Well, there's James Potter."

"Potter? As in Timothy Potter's son?"

"Yes."

Alphard whistled through his teeth. "I read his stuff. Boy, is he good. He could convince a dragon not to breathe fire, the way he writes."

"Father says he's idealistic?"

"Yes, perhaps. Perhaps not. I think he and Arden are going to see very differently on issues in the future," Alphard mused. "What's James like?"

"He's great!" Sirius said enthusiastically. "He's really bright, and he's a load of fun, and he comes up with the best ideas."

"Ideas? For what?"

Oops. "Erm..."

"Pranks?"

"I guess you could say that?"

Alphard smiled. "So tell me about them!"

"Well, there was this one time we turned Snivellus Snape's desk into a giant spider. Well, we tried to, anyway, but it didn't come out right. And then we set off fireworks during Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall-"

"Minerva?" Alphard hooted with laughter. "She was in my year at Hogwarts! I would have loved to have seen her face! How much detention did she give you?"

"None, amazingly. Our friend Remus Lupin talked us out of that one."

Alphard stilled. "Remus Lupin?"

"Yeah. There's four of us- the other one is Peter Pettigrew."

"You're friends with Remus Lupin?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied, the hackles starting to rise. "I know he's a half-blood and all..."

Alphard shook his head, and then snapped back together. "Stay friends with him, Sirius."

"What? Mother and Father keep telling me to drop him."

"Sometimes, there are things that are more important than blood. Stay friends with him."

Since Sirius had been planning on doing so anyway, it was very easy to agree.

***

After Sirius went to bed, Alphard sought out his nephew. "You're going to have your hands full with that one," he laughed.

"Yes," Arden sighed. "We've already had a few owls about him and James. Apparently they've spent some time in detention. You shouldn't encourage him, Alphard."

"I should. He's a bright boy, your Sirius. He told me that he and his friends tried to Transfigure a desk. That's pretty advanced for first-years."

"They botched it up. It grew legs but the middle didn't change."

"But to attempt it at all- and get as far as they got- that's at least third, if not fourth year magic."

"Yes. Well." Arden looked pleased.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Mmm?"

"This Lupin boy that Sirius is friends with..."

Arden's face closed. "Yes. The Mudblood in his dorm. There's something more there. His father was an Auror, but was demoted seven years ago. I believe he works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The mother is worthless."

"She's a Muggle, yes. But can I ask you not to make an issue out of this friendship?"

"Sirius is young and impressionable. He needs guidance. He can't be allowed to think that this sort of thing is acceptable."

"Well, I'm not saying to tell him to bring the boy roses. But could you turn a blind eye to it? Please?"

"There's no such thing."

Alphard sighed. Arden would be as inflexible as the rest of the family, he was sure. It wouldn't do any good to argue that Sirius needed friends- Arden would simply point out the relationships with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. "All right," he muttered. He left the subject. If he didn't, it would be a very long, very miserable Christmas.

***

There was great excitement on Christmas Day- Narcissa arrived suddenly to show off the ring that Lucius had presented her with. The adults were all congratulating them, and already the wedding talk was flying thickly among the women.

"It's an ideal match," Arden said to Richard. "You must be proud."

"Extremely."

Sirius watched the adults, kicking the side of the chair he was sitting on. He desperately wanted to go find something more interesting to do, but his presence was required here, even if no one seemed to be remembering he existed.

"Ugh, this is disgusting, isn't it?"

Sirius turned as his cousin Andromeda sat down next to him. "Awful," he agreed.

She lit up a cigarette. He watched her with fascination, and she cocked an eyebrow and offered it to him. He took a drag and choked, coughing on the smoke.

"Better wait a while, Sirius."

"I guess," he wheezed. He looked at the couple again. "Are you going to be a bridesmaid?"

"Hope not. He's a toad. Good looking, I suppose, but he's an utter prat. They'll be miserable," Andromeda said happily.

Sirius eyed the nuzzling, glowing couple. "They sure don't look it now."

"Yeah, but a girl can dream, can't she?"

He thought about Narcissa, and he couldn't really blame her older sister for not liking her. In fact, given Regulus, he could understand perfectly. "Does he have a little sister?" he asked. We could fix Regulus up with her when the time comes."

Andromeda laughed. "I like the way you think, Sirius."

***

Sirius was grateful to return to Hogwarts. The house seemed stifling now, and he missed his friends. He couldn't even escape to play outside- he hadn't seen Neil or Sid out in the street, and relatives were everywhere.

James was delighted to see him. "Have a good holiday, mate?"

"It was all right. What about you? Get anything good?"

"Yeah. Check this out." James pulled out a thin, silky cloak and swept hit over himself.

"No way!" Sirius, whose most exciting gift had been a thick book, was intensely jealous.

"Yeah. Dad said now that I'm starting at Hogwarts I can have it."

Sirius's eyes lit up. "Put it on again and sit down. Can you imagine Peter and Remus's reactions?"

***

The first year at Hogwarts drew to a close, and again Sirius didn't want to leave. At Hogwarts there was life and fun and friends; at home there was silence and darkness and Regulus.

He'd told James about his suspicion that his family practiced Dark magic. James had pressed his lips together angrily, but his final verdict had surprised Sirius.

"They might be Dark wizards, but you're not, are you?"

"I don't think so. I don't have to be just because my parents are, do I?"

"No." James was unyielding on that point. He looked so pale and angry that Sirius nodded firmly.

"Good. Then I won't be."

It had been very simple to say that at the time. It had been even simpler when they found an article in the Daily Prophet about the new addition to the Merlin Library. "'Only purebloods should be allowed into the facility'," Sirius read outloud. "I can't believe my uncle Richard said that on record. What a load of rubbish." He tossed the paper down.

"You've come a long way in a year," Remus observed from the floor, where he was stretched on his stomach and reading.

"No, I just know better than to get between you and a book." Sirius nudged him with a toe. "If I tried to stop you from getting into that library you'd maim me." James and Peter laughed, but Remus only smiled.

Yes, it was easy to say such things at Hogwarts.

It wasn't so easy at home. It was all well and good to say your parents were Dark wizards and you weren't ever going to be like them, but Dark wizards were, well, dark. They were the people they were learning to fight in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They mixed up poisons and practiced hexes, cackling all the while. They didn't pass you the cornflakes at breakfast or fuss over your grades or take you to Madame Malkin's to get new robes as they complained you'd grown again. And they didn't sit in the drawing room and talk to you about your future and wonder if you'd be a Ministry Official. Sirius had even suggested that he might be an Auror, just to see how his father would react, but his father had merely nodded and said perhaps.

Dark wizards didn't let you Floo off for a weekend at the Potters' with your friends. The Potters' house was very different from the Black's, and it drove some of Sirius's more uncomfortable notions home. He began to realize that cutting the heads off old house elves and mounting them on the wall was not an honor practiced everywhere. He'd never known that people came to the breakfast table in pajamas, or that parents kissed children good night.

But even if Dark wizards would let you go to the Potters', who were wealthy and influential, surely they wouldn't let you go to the Pettigrews', who were neither. He, James, and Peter spent a happy weekend fishing in the stream behind the Pettigrew's small house, swimming and cooking marshmallows over the fire. The Pettigrews didn't have a house elf, and for the first time Sirius had to do a chore. It was a surprise, because he'd never really known people lived like that.

Good and evil seemed so black and white in the Gryffindor common room. It was much more complicated at home. He still had to sneak outside- his summer ballgames with Neil and the others had resumed. But his father didn't loom over him demanding that Sirius kill anyone, and his mother didn't make him practice his hexes (although he did, on Regulus), so Sirius dismissed the whole thing the best he could.