Disclaimer: The only character of importance who is really mine is Lycaon, the plot is mine . . . for the most part you know the drill.

Author's Note: This story is currently under construction--getting a sort of face lift. The basic content will remain the same but I am going through the chapters with Enjie Yekcam, my beta, to clean things up. I try to update weekly—Saturdays—but I must admit that I'm not very good at that. All, the same I hope you enjoy the story as much I do and know that I always want to hear from you.

As of September 29, 2003 this has more correct formatting

As of January 25, 2004 I am editing Lycaon and the bias against Hufflepuffs.

As of July 1, 2004 . . . I am ripping my hair out. Yes, it's true, J.K Rowling released in an obscure area of her site that Sirius Black's eyes are, indeed, gray. So, I hope she's happy; she's just made forfeit about 1/3 of the Sirius/Remus fics out there. So, yeah, I'm changing this.

As of February 8, 2005 . . . yes, again. This time it's for the ages. And some things I just want to change. Ex. combining many of the earlier, shorter chapters.

As of April 23,2008 I cant resist. I wasn't satisfied with several aspects of this chapter and had to make it more palatable to my now more mature self.

The Zinnia Blooms-- The Express

The girl stood rooted to the pavement in front of the train to Hogwarts, her hair in a ponytail that managed to whip into her eyes—eyes whose abnormal color she was sometimes painfully aware of; she had never liked them. They were too dark, too secretive—and as she ran through worst-case-scenarios such flaws came to mind.

There was an odd sort of nervousness that sat deep in her stomach as she watched the movement on Platform 9 3/4. When her parents had asked her why she was so nervous she had said simply that it was going to be odd to be away from home so much.

At least, she thought, I'm from a decent line of witches and wizards.

Her family was pure enough; meaning there was no record of anything else. She found little comfort or meaning in this fact, unlike some of the people with whom she knew she'd be forced to be in contact with now. The Saers were a respected but not prestigious 

line. That is to say they were respected in that no one meddled in their affairs or so much as mentioned them in passing, except for around weddings, which were to muggle-borns and half-bloods more and more. Then there was talk. All the same, they were mostly pureblood. She tried to find the good in at least that one thing.

"Come now, Ly, dear. You really should get on the train now or else there'll be no compartments left."

It had been her mother's idea to name her Lycaon, but it was such a mouthful that Ly had quickly become her nickname. Every now and then the sound of it—lie –struck her as symbolic. Of what, she wasn't sure.

She looked around at what were soon to be her schoolmates. She saw tall kids, short kids, thin kids, fat kids . . .

Blimey, she thought, I sound like that cracked up muggle book Mum bought for Elizabeth.

At this thought she glanced at the bored little girl swinging from her father's arms—with a Hershey's chocolate bar poking out of her pocket. Lycaon's parents were nuts for all things muggle, mostly because Mr. Saer enjoyed taking things apart.

Ly forced a smile. "You're right, Mum. I'd better go, or I'll end up wandering the entire time."

Her parents both smiled and each gave her a big hug, which she hoped desperately no one would taunt her about. Elizabeth let go of Mr. Saer to squeeze her sister's arm, and then Lycaon was ready to go. She walked away and heard her mother shout from behind her.

"Don't forget to write!" Lycaon knew the voice to be her mother's—the gentle lilt, the accent, the enunciation, and . . . everything. She was going to miss it. Just before she got on the train, with her owl Eros hooting wildly, she turned and waved.

"Don't worry! I'll send you novels!" She gave a smile, knowing she wouldn't do any such thing, and heaved her trunk onto the train as her gut finished churning.

Ly walked down and, as the frantic noise of the other occupants diminished, she found an empty compartment which was to her liking. She wasn't in a hurry to meet anyone. Past experiences left much reason to let that wait. She put up her trunks with quite some difficulty ("Why am I so short and puny!?") and sat beside the window.

There were students and parents all around. She knew that some were first years like herself, and some looked substantially older and more self-assured. She saw a man dressed in black with a woman whom she supposed was his wife, also dressed in black. She fleetingly wondered if they were in mourning. They both looked rather severe, but the young boy they had with them, who seemed to be around her age, didn't seem to care one wit about what they were saying. She smiled.

She saw a chubby boy with a chubby mother and a chubby father and wondered whether or not he was as nervous as she was. Not to judge, of course, she thought with some remorse.

There was also a rather thin boy with beaming parents, his mother was fussing over him, and it was clear that he didn't want her to. Gangly. That was a good description. She saw tons of other kids and described many to herself. It was an excellent way to pass time. Besides, now that she was on the train she wasn't so sure about coming and needed a distraction. The multitudes of students and the grandness of the experience felt . . . overwhelming. All the same, she doubted anything could be as bad as the last five years of school. She'd be better in the future, though, and so would her experiences.

There were girls who looked near her age, but just watching them filled her stomach with dread. Would they be pleasant? Were they the sort that would enjoy her company? What exactly is the sort that would enjoy my company? Oh well, she'd managed before and could find her way now. Of course, it might not be wise to send that tidbit back home. No, her mother would worry, and her father would judge. It would save time in explanations to simply omit it.

She checked her watch; she'd been sitting there for a while.

Suddenly there was a knock, but, doing the only thing she could call dignified at the moment, she didn't jump. Jumping and flinching didn't stop anything from happening, after all.

When she said nothing the door slid open to reveal the boy with black-clad parents. Up close she could see that he was rather cute. He had black hair that fell a bit short of his shoulders and gray eyes. They reminded Lycaon of a thunderstorm in more ways than one.

"I didn't think anyone was in here. You really need to speak up. Mind if I sit down?" He needn't have bothered asking because it was rather clear that he intended to do exactly as he pleased.

"No, of course not," there was a touch of sarcasm, but he seemed not to notice. He nodded and grunted thanks as he heaved his overlarge trunk into the compartment.

Behave, Ly! She berated herself. You're. Going. To. Be. Different.

"ARGH! Bloody hell!" He then looked at Lycaon. "My mother made me over-pack. The woman doesn't realize that I can have the same couple of uniforms and robes washed so that I can re-wear them," he went on by way of explanation.

Lycaon laughed, partially because he was funny and partially because she felt thatshe needed to actually make some kind of interaction with this boy she was to be stuck with for several more hours. The train set out of the station.

"So what's your name?" He asked as he sat down across from her.

"Lycaon Saer."

She stuck out her hand, and he shook it.

"Sirius Black," the boy said with a knowing, self-satisfied smirk. That name seemed terribly familiar, even though she didn't really associate with other wizarding families often. He opened the window, and a head popped through the open door of the compartment.

"You two don't mind if I join, do you?" This boy, too, had black hair but, unlike Sirius', his was short and disheveled as though it hadn't been combed, and behind his glasses his eyes were hazel smiles.

"Naw, Go ahead," Sirius gestured to a seat, and the new boy nodded.

I'm glad my opinion is so valuable. Then Ly scolded herself again. Sirius was, obviously, just a . . . well… he was something.

"Thanks. The name's James Potter, by the way."

He struggled to push his trunk away and not trip over Sirius', which had been abandoned on the floor.

Ly had begun to feel overwhelmed again. Perhaps I should excuse myself?

"I'm Lycaon Saer," she said for what she knew wasn't even close to the last time.

"Sirius Black."

It was then that she realized who the Blacks were. They were a rich, fretfully stuck-up, pure blood family; and yet Sirius didn't seem that way. She looked over at the dark, moody boy by the window. The sunlight caught in his hair and highlighted his haughty expression.

Or maybe he was that way. As James sat down on the seat by Lycaon, Sirius began to throw his clothes out of the window. James looked at Sirius as though he was mad, which, to Lycaon's knowledge, he just might have been.

"And what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" James asked.

This earned a smirk from Sirius.

"Well, I think I'm throwing these stupid clothes out the window," Sirius replied simply. Lycaon knew that James was still puzzled.

"His mum made him over-pack."

Ly crossed her arms lightly to hide the nervousness that made her hands shake.

"Oh," said the bespectacled boy with a slow blink and shake of his head.

As Lycaon and James soon found out, Sirius' family expected him to be a Slytherin, marry a pure blood girl who was also in Slytherin and have pure blood children who also got into Slytherin. A very tall order for such a young boy.

"Blimey," James had said. "That's no good. No fun at all. It'd be interesting to see what they'd do if you didn't get into Slytherin."

Sirius had just laughed. "Are you kidding? They'd disown me!"

They had all laughed, if a little tensely, half knowing that his family would consider it.

Lycaon felt as though she actually had a chance at these two blokes being her friends. It was simultaneously terrifying and liberating. She began to realize that part of her had been hoping that no one would even talk to her—that she could somehow slip under the radar for the next seven years. Just be brave, Ly. "Well how about you, James? What house do you think you'll end up in?"

A large grin spread over James' face. "Gryffindor all the way. I'm not bookish enough to be in Ravenclaw or . . . well . . . Hufflepuff-y enough for Hufflepuff, and the other option is just not the one for me."

Lycaon smiled weakly. "I'm not too sure where I'll end up. I suppose I can be rather bookish, so maybe Ravenclaw."

James laughed, still thrilled by his own prospects. "You never know, I've heard of some unexpected sortings that turned out to be right."

Lycaon turned to Sirius, feeling encouraged. "Hey, Sirius, if you wanted to get disowned all you'd have to do is get sorted into Gryffindor."

"That'd do it," he agreed. "But can you imagine the look on my parents' faces when they found out?" He laughed, and the others joined.

They were still laughing when the snack cart came by.

"Oh good, I haven't eaten anything today," Lycaon said as she pulled a small bag out of her sleeve. "This will be the first time in a long time I won't have to share with anyone," She glanced then at the boys. Perhaps they were moochers? She didn't know.

Sirius put up his hands in surrender. "We'll get our own, we swear!"

Ly just smiled. While that wasn't quite what she meant to do, it seemed to work. Very quickly she grew into this new, accidental persona.

They ate the snacks, sometimes joking and sometimes just sitting in companionable silence. Ly mostly listened as James and Sirius related the greater parts of their lives to one another. All of them had come to the platform in their uniforms so they didn't need to change, merely put their robes on over-top. The train ride was longer than they had bargained for.

"I'm going to learn all sorts of stuff this year, you know," Sirius said casually. "I'll make sure to put all my jinxes to good use, too."

A smirk crossed his face, and Lycaon found herself more interested than she had been this entire time, but whether it was in what Sirius was saying or the way he was saying it she couldn't tell.

James merely laughed, but Sirius wasn't finished.

"You realize, of course, that there will be all sorts of opportunities once we've learned some magic."

A mischievous glint shone in his eye.

"Like what?" James asked, though clearly already getting the gist.

"Well," he said nonchalantly, "I hear that Peeves the Poltergeist does a good job causing problems at the school . . . but," the glint returned, "we could cause mayhem."

Lycaon liked the intensity of the idea. She liked the vivacity it implied. Both James and she smiled widely.

"I like the idea of it, don't you?" Sirius grinned winningly.

"Well then," James seemed rather pleased with the idea. "We'll have to work on that once we get to school."

"But," Lycaon interrupted, "we really have to wait and see about class schedules and houses before we can work anything out. I think it'd be much less conspicuous to be spending time together if we were in the same house, though."

The two boys nodded in sad agreement. Way to be the bearer of bad news, Ly.

Regardless, they talked and laughed the entire way to Hogwarts. At one point, James even dared Lycaon to plant a horde of dung-bombs in the compartment across from theirs, which happened to be full of 7th year Slytherins, including a sinister looking boy with long, white blonde hair. Actually, James had dared Sirius to do it, but he had 

declined seeing as he would probably be in more contact with them, and he valued his life to some degree.

"Well," James had said, "if you won't do it, I'm sure Lycaon will."

Lycaon internally cried out, her mind running circles and comparing pros and cons. Before her conscious mind even decided, though, her tongue was acting. It was as if she only knew one word.

"Sure."

Both of the boys looked at her in shock. She was just an up-and-coming witch who didn't even know how to use the wand in her pocket, and she was about to pull a prank on a bunch of Slytherins who were even of age to do magic whenever they so pleased. She was sure that in their eyes, that took some guts; but the minute Lycaon said it she was filled with nothing but regret. She wasn't the kind to go looking for trouble—it normally came to her. However, she simply couldn't back down now, could she? She wasn't prepared to lose face with so tentative of friendships forming. She wanted to be better—stronger. She couldn't quail now.

Lycaon took the handful of dung-bombs—courtesy of James—and walked outside of the compartment, knowing that the boys were watching her and knowing that they were no match for all those 7th years if she were to need backup.

Lycaon wasn't so stupid as to make it obvious, though. Even she had moments of celerity. There was a crack in the door, that's the only reason James had even suggested it. She stood with her back to the wall right by the door. The boys were practically gaping at her, and she was smirking to hide the fact that her stomach was roiling as she threw the dung bombs, one by one, in quick succession.

There was a series of loud pops followed by a series of disgusted groans. With one swift movement Lycaon was back in her own compartment with the door shut behind her and her new friends grinning appreciatively.

"Smooth, very smooth," Sirius said, seemingly impressed.

"This year should be interesting!" James was smiling broadly. "Guts like that will get you into Gryffindor."

"That's not up to us to decide," Lycaon just shrugged, trying to shake off the dangerous combination of nerves and adrenaline that pounded through her.

There was a good deal of loud swearing from outside, and James and Sirius laughed loudly. The boy with long blonde hair opened the door and glared at them.

"And what, pray tell, is so amusing?"

James looked dumbfounded, and Sirius looked vaguely sickened. Thankfully, Lycaon kept her head on minutely straight.

"James told a funny story, that's all," Her voice seemed more monotone than nervous, luckily. "Apparently, he accidentally made a pie explode all over the Minister of Magic when he was younger."

"How amusing," the young man sneered, "but one more outburst you'll all have detention when we get to Hogwarts."

It was then that Lycaon noticed a badge on his robes.

"And," the boy continued, "I look forward to seeing you in Slytherin, Sirius."

His sneer became more pronounced, and he left, slamming the compartment door shut behind him.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Sirius got up and locked it.

"You know that git, Sirius?" James asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Sirius replied darkly. "He's marrying one of my cousins in a few years."

He looked as though he had a bad taste in his mouth, and Lycaon patted him on the shoulder.

"My condolences."

They somehow got rather deeply involved into the subject of relatives after that. That conversation—which became especially interesting when Sirius and James realized how closely related they were—carried them all the way to Hogwarts.

As they spoke, though, Ly began to feel that, more and more, she was growing into the part she was playing. She was imperfect, and she still didn't quite fit, but she very much liked the idea of becoming this Lycaon.

. . .

When they got to Hogwarts they were greeted by a giant of a man: a relatively young, but nonetheless giant man.

"All Righ', All Righ'! Firs' years this way, firs' years over here."

All of the first years obeyed, fearing the wrath of this huge man, although he seemed totally affable.

"Folla' me!"

Once again there was utter obedience. They reached a lake where there were boats waiting on the shores.

"All righ' now. We're gonna all get in these 'ere boats an', well no more 'an four teh a boat firs' off, an' then we're gonna go up to the castle. No 'orseplay or nothin', jus' let the boats take yeh over."

Naturally, Lycaon got into the same boat as her new friends. James looked around as the small mass of first years scattered into the boats all around them. One of these was a pudgy blonde boy whom Lycaon thought rather resembled a large blonde hamster. When she pointed this out to the boys they laughed and suddenly Lycaon felt sorry about it.

James then seemed transfixed.

Lycaon frowned and tried to follow his line of vision. After a moment she narrowed the possibilities down to a single red-head who looked unsure of where to go.

"What's wrong with James?" Sirius asked.

"A girl," Lycaon answered with a small smile.

"Oh. Well, ask her to come over here, James!" He slapped the back of the other black-haired boy.

"Oy!" James called out, waving. "Oy, you can ride with us!"

The red-head seemed not to notice James in the least. Lycaon shook her head.

"Oy!" He cried out louder.

She looked over questioningly, and James grinned rather idiotically.

"Oy-" He suddenly looked troubled. "Bullocks, I have no idea what her name is." He bit his lip. "Yeah, yeah you –"

"Call her carrot-top," Sirius suggested.

"Come here!" He jumped waving more excitedly, having apparently made eye contact.

"James, you're going to frighten her," Lycaon said. She found herself stiffening as the boat rocked. They were only in shallow water, and Ly understood that. Her nerves seemed not to.

The red-head was walking over, however, and James was captivated with her and her alone.

"Let me give you hand," he said as she began getting into the boat.

"No, I have it," she smiled.

"No, no, let me!" He grabbed her hand.

"I'm fine—"

"Come on—"

"The boat, James—"

"Will you stop—"

"Mates—!"

"What—?"

"Oh no!"

"AH!"

"Bloody hell!" Lycaon stood up, very wet. "I'm never sitting in the same boat as James again," She vowed.

"Me neither!" The red-head snarled, even wetter.

"I'm sorry!" James tried to stand up but lost his balance, splashing the girl even further.

"UGH!" The girl threw her hands in the air and stormed off.

James sighed heavily, muttered, and then kicked the boat.

"I think she likes you," Sirius grinned, less wet than Lycaon, James, or the red-head; having been able to catch himself.

"Merlin's beard! What'd I tell yeh about 'orseplayin'? I'll get yeh some blanket when we get across th' lake. I'd give yeh me coat, but I already gave it teh somebody," the gigantic man set his mighty fists to his hips.

"We'll be fine!" Sirius smiled and threw an arm around both James and Ly.

The man gave them a look but shook his head, righted their boat, and left.

They sat down in the boat and shivered a little. The red-head appeared to have found who she was looking for, an awkward looking boy, and from the filthy looks she was giving sending in their direction she seemed to think that James had in some way meant to soak her to the bone. Lycaon just shook her head in amazement.

"At this rate, all we'll have is each other, and we won't even be in the same house," Ly said.

"Do you know how they sort us anyway?" Sirius looked around as the boats all started moving.

"I don't know," Lycaon slipped into cognition. "My mum said they use a 'Sorting Hat'. She told me that she begged not to put her into Ravenclaw even though it really wanted to, and it put her in Hufflepuff instead."

Sirius surveyed her steadily. "Do you think I could ask it not to put me into Slytherin?"

"Well," Lycaon weighed the question carefully, "you could, but I guess it's the hat's decision in the end. But," she looked at him quizzically, "why on Earth wouldn't you want to be in Slytherin? Sure some of the people there aren't that nice but-" James snorted derisively.

"What an understatement," He muttered.

Lycaon poked his shoulder, and he let out an exaggerated cry of protest but the obliged by shutting up. She shook her head.

"But . . . there's nothing that wrong with it. Plus, you said it yourself, that's what your parents want for you."

Sirius leaned forward, rather close to Lycaon as she had leaned forward somewhere along the line.

"Ah, but there you are. I don't want what my parents want. I don't care about 'Toujours Pur', and I really don't give a damn about being in Slytherin."

Lycaon just smiled and leaned back, hiding the unnerved feeling in her gut.

"Well I do have to wonder: how do you plan to get by once they disown you?"

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "Aw, they couldn't do that. I'll just make up a clever excuse," He looked away, towards the increasingly beautiful view of the castle.

They all stared determinedly forward as they were led to a waiting area. They didn't speak before they entered the hall where they would most likely be split. They were each preparing themselves for what lay ahead.

Lycaon didn't want to be alone—not when she was so close to whatever these boys were, but she knew they would be split, and it would be all she could do not to cry. She wasn't a baby, and she couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't quail now.

. . .

Sirius wanted more than anything else to be the black sheep in his family. He wanted to disappoint his family. He wanted to disgrace them. Such were the thoughts running through his head.

If not for the fact that, as Lycaon had so graciously pointed out, he couldn't live on his own at this age; he wouldn't have even minded getting blasted off the family tree. But he didn't have a chance and he didn't feel very much like setting himself up for disappointment.

If there was anything Sirius hated more than giving his family precisely what they wanted, it was not getting what he wanted. So he might as well start wanting what he was going to get anyway.

. . .

James had what he acknowledged as childish and yet all-too-real fears. Then he had irrational fears.

He dreaded, for example, being put in Slytherin. Oh Merlin, but he wanted to be put in Gryffindor! He came from a thoroughly Gryffindor background. Born and raised.

But what if?

Ravenclaw wouldn't be that bad. Heck, if he got into Ravenclaw—If they all got into Ravenclaw–that could work. Sirius' parents couldn't be angry with him for being intelligent . . . Lycaon had said that was her most likely option.

If only it were all up to him they would all be together. If it were all up to him, though, a lot of things would be different, wouldn't they? Something inside of him told him that it was hopeless but something louder told him that giving up wasn't his style.

. . .

Lycaon had gone through this numerous times already. Hogwarts was supposed be a new experience—she was supposed to make all sorts of new friends. She, however, had made her friends: Sirius and James. Three was a big enough number for her. Could she honestly expect more? She mentally reprimanded herself for setting herself up for failure. She wasn't hideous. She didn't smell. She hoped she wasn't too annoying. She was just plain with plain brown hair and . . . freakishly dark eyes. Eyes that no one liked in a face that was nothing spectacular.

With these depressing thoughts she entered the great hall with a stern-looking witch. Everyone else around her was quaking like a leaf in mid-autumn. She stood there, not with James and Sirius together in a group, but together in mind. They were as solid as a rock and completely resolute in their thoughts: be strong in this. Along with a subtext of 'this is a train-wreck', of course.

NOTE: O-kay! So here you have what used to be chapter one and two combined and improved. If, at this point, you are at all confused about Lycaon go read my one-shot 'Of Lycaon Amarantha Saer'. All shall be explained. There were some things that, originally, Lycaon was supposed to do that I gave to Sirius. There were also some scenes I outright re-wrote. How James met Lily, for example. I like this so far. I'm now pleased with this. A quick character guide:

Lycaon's mother- Mrs. Saer; Lycaon's Father- Mr. Saer; Lycaon's Sister- Elizabeth Saer; Bearded, large, gigantic, etc. man- Hagrid; Stern-looking witch- McGonagall.

And Lycaon is pronounced Lie-kay-on. Lie as in 'you told a lie'. Kay as in 'okay'. On as in 'The book is on the table'. My pen name, on the other hand is pronounced 'lith'. As in 'monolith'. I just happen to like to put the 'LY' combination wherever I can.

Thank you for your patronage!