Welcome back, dear readers! Thank you all for reading Lily's Final Gift, and making it thus far to the sequel. This story will have two POV characters: Lily and James. How James becomes a POV character will be explained at the very end of this story (yet another reason for you to stick till the end!). Personally, I think it will be good for me as a writer to have two different POV characters. Besides, it will allow me to explore some more aspects of the story that were hitherto unexplored. Thank you for reading!

Hello everyone, here is chapter one. Readers, please review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All (well, most, anyway) characters are from J K Rowling's brilliant best-selling series.

Chapter One

"The Potters are my family – more than you could ever be."

"Master James – dinner is ready," squeaked the tiny little elf as it Apparated right into James's room. James looked up from the book he was reading, and said, "All right, Tippy – tell Mum and Dad I'll be downstairs in ten minutes." The little elf nodded and Disapparated promptly.

James turned his attention back to the comic book he was reading – The Seven Crystal Balls, part of the Muggle comic book series titled The Adventures of Tintin. James was close to the end of the book – he'd been fascinated by the plot, and felt a sense of trepidation for the Tintin and Captain Haddock; they seemed hell-bent on rescuing Professor Calculus, undertaking what would surely be a perilous journey in South America…

He set the book aside as soon as he finished it. He couldn't wait to read the sequel (Prisoners of the Sun); he was sure that it would be just as enthralling. He rose and began to walk towards the door of his bedroom – before coming to a halt near his table, on top of which a solitary piece of parchment lay. It had come to him as a scroll – but he'd read it so many times that it was now flat as a pancake. Unable to resist, he strode to the table and began to read it yet again with a smile on his face.

Hi James,

I hope you're well, and that your Mum and Dad have fully recovered from that harrowing experience a few weeks ago.

You'll be happy to know that I'm maintaining my fitness regime – I go for a three-mile jog around the neighbourhood every morning, because someone once told me that it was much harder to maintain a fitness routine after it had been established (yeah, yeah, wipe that smug smirk off your face!). I am also learning how to play tennis (it's a popular Muggle sport with a racquet and a ball – ugh, too complicated to explain in a letter!). There's a court about half a mile from my house, and there are a couple of Muggle boys (they're regulars) who seemed quite willing to teach me – I thought I was getting quite good at it, until one of them beat me 6-0, 6-0 (that's like losing a Quidditch match by three hundred points to zero). I'm still playing, though – I'm not going to give up that easily.

Anyway, James, there were some things I wanted to say, but never got a chance to do so – that's why the letter. I wanted to thank you – this may sound redundant, but the way you helped me that day, when I was about to give up – it meant a lot, really. You kept me going, and you kept pumping air into my flame barrier – well, to give you a Quidditch analogy, I may have been the one who scored the goal, but I couldn't have done it without your final pass (it took me ten minutes to come up with this one, so just bear with me, OK?). Oh, and one more important thing – you saved my life, too!

I will never forget that, James – for this, you have my gratitude. As a token of my appreciation, please find enclosed a set of Muggle comic books. I know, I know, books aren't really the most ideal present, but I recall that you (and the others) once sent me a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and the stories were fascinating – they certainly helped me understand the Wizarding World a little better! So – go ahead and read these comics, and I'm sure you'll see the Muggle World in a completely new light. I know that you're taking Muggle Studies – but trust me, these books are nothing like the textbooks, really. They're amongst my favourites, and the last one in the series just came out earlier this year – so, you now have the complete set! Trust me – when it comes to fiction, the Muggle world has plenty to offer.

Please convey my regards to your parents, and let me know if you like these comics!

Cheers,

Lily Evans

And with that letter had come a small package: the complete collection of The Adventures of Tintin. James had felt immensely happy when he'd received the letter; she didn't need to thank him, honestly; but she still had, and he'd felt gratified. Fascinated and a little sceptical, he'd begun to read the first comic book in the series, which followed the adventures of an intrepid young Belgian reporter and his faithful dog. Gradually, James had started to warm up to the characters, and he'd really begun to enjoy the stories after the introduction of Captain Haddock – undoubtedly because of the vocabulary of esoteric swearwords that accompanied the foul-mouthed and uncouth sailor.

James sighed, replacing the letter on the table. He'd written back to her immediately, thanking her for her very thoughtful gift, and assuring her that his parents were indeed, fine. They'd all gone to the south of France for a week-long holiday after their distressing experience, and had returned rejuvenated. The parcel from Lily had arrived the day they'd gotten back, and James was now spending his afternoons reading the comics, lost in the world of Tintin's escapades…

He shook himself out of his reverie and sighed. What wouldn't he give to have Lily going out with him… But he'd made his decision. It had come to him as he'd been sitting next to her in the Hospital Wing, worried sick, waiting for her to regain consciousness… He'd realised that she clearly didn't feel the same way about him, and he'd recalled the advice Sirius had given him. Try to be her friend, his best friend had told him… Try to be someone she'd genuinely like, and perhaps one day she might see for who you really are…

It had been difficult. His heart skipped a beat every time he saw her, and he couldn't help but grin rather foolishly at the sight of her dark red hair, her emerald-green eyes, her sleek and slender figure… But her beauty was not the only thing that attracted him. Her intelligence, her kindness, her selflessness and her inclination to look beyond prejudices – all these were exemplary qualities, and he liked and respected her for it. He'd never let it get him down every time she'd rejected him, however cruelly it may have been…

But he knew better now. If she didn't feel the same way as he felt about her, there really was no point trying to force things… And so, he'd taken Sirius's advice. He'd taken a step back, and he'd resolved to be her friend. He wanted to get to know her – he had a measure of her, that was clear, but what he really wanted was to – to understand her. He wanted to understand her thoughts and feeling, her dreams and passions, her fears and insecurities…

So far, to his surprise, the 'friend' thing was going remarkably well. They'd found themselves in a sticky situation only two days after the incident with Snivellus – James still felt a rush of hatred as he remembered that greasy git calling Lily, his beloved Lily, a 'Mudblood'… How could he have done that to his best friend? James's own part in the whole disaster hadn't been insubstantial; nevertheless, she'd still accompanied him to rescue his parents, and that was something he would always hold close to his heart. People show who they are when times are tough, he thought. When it had mattered, she'd come through… Despite their animosity, she hadn't turned her back on him, and her role in the mission had been invaluable. Well, if it hadn't been for her, we would all be dead, thought James wryly.

But once he'd told her that he'd like to be her friend, and that he was done chasing her, her whole attitude towards him had changed. She'd become much more affable, making jokes and occasionally teasing him… And what was more, he was liking it. Of course, her gesture with the Tintin books was unexpected, but it was still extremely sweet. He found himself thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be too hard to be friends with her after all. There was just one small hitch…

He was still in love with her.

He knew that his feelings towards her were genuine. He also knew that he couldn't see himself going out with anyone else, at least for the time being. He'd been outwardly nonchalant but inwardly crushed every time she'd said no to going out with him, and he'd constantly come up with newer, more creative ways to ask her out – none of which had been successful.

But he was determined to try. He was going to try being friends with her – try to be someone she would genuinely like. It would be an added bonus if she fell in love with him, just as he was in love with her –

He shook himself again. It's not going to be easy, he thought to himself. But she's worth it… She's worth the effort.

"Mum – Dad," he said brightly as he entered the dining room, where his parents were already seated at the table. "Evening, son," said his father, smiling at him. James thought the world of his father; as the Head of the Auror Office, his Dad had a lot of responsibility at his job – and consequently, with the war, too. He loaded rice and brown gravy in his plate, picking the pieces of salmon in particular; his mother 'tsked' as he sat down, and he grinned at her.

"Leave some of that salmon for us, son," she said, and James's grin widened. "I'm a growing boy, Mum – I need all the protein I can get," he responded, and his mother rolled her eyes but smiled at him fondly before starting to eat her own dinner.

"So – Dad," said James, "You're going back to work tomorrow – d'you feel ready?"

"I'm always ready, son," said his Dad, winking at him, and James laughed. Then his father's face became serious. "It was nice of Minchum to give me two weeks off," he said. "I'm so glad I could spend some quality time with you both."

"I'm telling you, Fleamont – those people are working you too hard," said Mrs Potter severely, rubbing Mr Potter's back gently as she spoke. "Nah – I can handle it," said Mr Potter reassuringly. "Besides – it's all hands on deck, given the current situation…"

James sniggered; that last sentence had triggered a memory. His parents gave him a questioning glance, and he shrugged, saying, "Nothing – I just remember reading the phrase 'all hands on deck' earlier this afternoon… It was just before Captain Haddock said 'Pithecanthropus'…" He couldn't resist a small chuckle.

"My, you seem to have taken a fancy to those comic books, eh?" his father asked, his eyes twinkling. "You can't seem to stop reading them – that's what you've been doing every afternoon, haven't you?"

"Er – yes," said James, slightly flustered, "I'm bored – I talk to Sirius every day, but aside from that, none of my friends are here. Peter and Remus are visiting relatives with their families… Plus, Marlene's touring West Germany! I fire-called Liz two days ago – but aside from that and homework, I have nothing to do all day! You're at the Ministry – and Mum's supposed to be consulting part-time for St Mungo's – but they're calling her every single day! What am I supposed to do, play Exploding Snap with Tippy?"

"You'd think he's been home for a month – but it's been barely four days since the Riviera," said Mr Potter, smiling slightly at Mrs Potter, who returned his grin and said, "Then, Jamie – perhaps it's just as well that your new friend sent you those Muggle comic books! Thoughtful of her, wasn't it?"

James blushed; he couldn't help it. "I guess," he said carefully. He knew that his parents had an inkling of his feelings towards Lily… But he'd resolved to himself that if he were quizzed about that topic, he'd deny it tooth and nail.

Mrs Potter's smile widened. "The rate at which you're reading those books – you'd think there's an exam about it!"

Mr Potter laughed, and James flushed. "C'mon, Mum – I already told you, I'm not going to do any sort of homework until I get the OWL results!" he whined. "In the meantime – those comic books are really interesting, it's a good past-time for me to read those… For instance – did you know that these guns, which Muggles use to kill each other, aren't really metal wands?"

"Your Muggle Studies textbook would've told you the same thing," said Mr Potter with a little smirk. James snorted. "Quite the opposite, Dad," he said triumphantly, "The textbook goes on about how it's a metal wand with little black metal cores that just blast out of it when Muggles want them to… In reality, there's something called a trigger – and it needs to be pulled for these black cores to –"

"Fascinating," Mr Potter cut across him dryly, "Your point?"

"My point, Dad," said James feelingly, "Is that our understanding of the Muggle world is incomplete – we just learn what we think we see, whereas it's completely different!"

"You could lead a revolution to improve this understanding, son," said Mr Potter with a straight face, and Mrs Potter gave him a light tap on his arm. "Stop teasing him, Fleamont – if he's reading those books for amusement, let him!" she said. Mr Potter smirked again.

"Personally – I'd like to see him study or do his homework," he said. "I know, I know – not until we get your OWL results," he added hastily, as James opened his mouth to protest. "Incidentally – have you decided what subjects you want to pursue, son?"

"Yep," said James promptly. "Transfiguration, obviously – Charms, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology – and Muggle Studies, too…"

His Dad raised his eyebrows. "Muggle Studies? Unusual choice, son – the other subjects are fine, of course…"

"D'you want to impress a certain someone with your knowledge of Muggles, Jamie?" his Mum asked with a suggestive wink. James reddened at once, and Mr Potter laughed. "You just told us that our knowledge about Muggles and their ways is incomplete!" he exclaimed. "If that's the case – why d'you want a NEWT in that subject?"

"Er – I think the textbooks will be better from sixth year onwards," said James lamely, but he knew that his parents weren't fooled in the slightest. His Mum really knew him all too well…

"In any case – it isn't a coincidence that your other subjects are those required to become an Auror," said Mr Potter shrewdly. "What happened to becoming a world-famous Quidditch player?"

"It's the need of the hour, Dad," said James softly. "Voldemort is out there, spreading death and terror and destruction – d'you think I'm just going to sit around, doing nothing? Don't get me wrong, I love Quidditch," he said quickly, "But as long as Voldemort is a threat, I think I'd be wasting my talent with spellwork if I become a professional Quidditch player. As soon as I'm of age – I'd like to help."

Mr Potter smiled. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor, son," he said proudly. "I never had any doubts about you and your abilities – and that incident last month reinforced that belief."

"I really wish you were far away from this war, James" said Mrs Potter with a strained smile, "I wish you didn't have to be involved with all this – it's bad enough worrying about your father, now I'm going to have to worry about you, too!"

"I'll be fine, Mum," said James reassuringly, puffing out his chest a little. He was feeling a little taller – he'd rescued his parents from that goon Jugson, and his Dad was clearly proud of him. He idolized his father – he'd long dreamed of becoming an Auror just like him, though admittedly a few years ago it had been a close contest between an Auror and the World's Best Chaser.

They finished their dinner, and Mrs Potter waved her wand; all traces of their meal disappeared, and the plates and vessels returned to their places in the kitchen. "I think I'm going to check out the ground near the Town Square tomorrow," said James, "There're Muggle blokes who play football there – maybe I can play with them a bit."

"Why this sudden inclination towards football, James?" his Mum asked, raising her eyebrows. "As far as I know, no one is allowed to fly…"

"I know," replied James, nodding, "I've seen people at it, they seemed to be having a lot of fun playing… Maybe it's an exciting game, I dunno – but I intend to find out."

"Well – have fun with that," said Mr Potter. "G'Night, son – you'd better go to bed, it's getting late. Euphemia – I'll see you in the study in a few minutes." He rose, gave James a little wave, and exited the dining room.

"Another top-secret Ministry-related meeting, Mum?" James asked lightly. Mrs Potter gave him a swift smile. "Something like that," she said vaguely, standing up; James imitated her. "Goodnight, sweetheart," she said hugging him close and kissing his cheek. "'Night, Mum," said James gently, and patted his mother's shoulder as they left the dining room together. With a little wave to his Mum, James ascended the stairs, heading to his room, deep in thought.

He knew that his parents were probably going off to discuss important stuff related to the Order of the Phoenix. James wasn't stupid; he knew about the existence of the Order, and he knew that his parents were members of it as well. It was a top-secret society founded by Dumbledore himself – with the sole purpose to defeat Lord Voldemort…

James had found out about it quite by accident. A few years ago, when his parents had hosted Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore for dinner, he'd been told to go to bed after the meal; however, young James had sneaked to his Dad's study, where he was sure they were all deep in discussion over something. He'd listened from outside the door, catching words like 'Order' and 'scouting' and 'Voldemort'…

Over the years, James had attempted to find out as much as he could, trying to eavesdrop during such meetings. Opportunities were scarce, though – on an average, he'd been able to listen in on only one meeting per year, typically during the summer holidays. However, last year, he'd resolved to attend one such meeting – wearing his Invisibility Cloak. He'd gotten away with it successfully; he hadn't understood much of what was going on, but he'd heard enough to get a fair idea of the situation.

For instance, he knew that the Order typically consisted of older witches and wizards who were higher-ups in the Ministry, and younger ones who were, in all fairness, foot soldiers. He knew that the Order members were delegated several tasks – spying, scouting, recruiting, guarding and fighting, to name a few. The higher-ups usually coordinated the different tasks, all working towards the same primary objective…

James had wanted to join the Order as soon as he'd found out about all this. He suspected that his parents knew that he was aware of the Order's existence – but they hadn't said a word to him about it, and he was sure that they were waiting to tell him about it once he was of age. Well, that would happen in March next year…

His choosing of subjects to pursue a career as an Auror was the perfect excuse to join the Order. Whatever he told his parents, James had no intention of joining the Ministry as an Auror… Nay, he'd rather be a full-time soldier for the Order, unbounded by the chains of administration, politics and red tape. The bureaucratic nature of the Ministry prevented them from doing several things – but recently, with the Unforgiveable Curses legalized against Voldemort's supporters, the public opinion seemed to be swaying the Ministry's way. Mr Crouch, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had deemed it fit to fight violence with violence, and if one took the Daily Prophet seriously, he was something of a messiah, a brilliant wartime commander unafraid to make bold decisions…

But James wasn't sure if fighting fire with fire would help them win the war. True, if Voldemort's supporters were being chucked into Azkaban without trial (as had happened two days ago), it might just discourage people from joining his cause – but fear is never the best tool for enforcement of the law, and anyone indoctrinated with Voldemort's pureblood supremacy agenda would be much more willing to join his cause, especially if he promised them protection in exchange for service… Besides, if they too fought to kill, they'd be sinking to the level of the Death Eaters, and that was something he could never stomach.

James sighed as he entered his bedroom. Things like Quidditch seemed mundane every time his thought process went in this direction… He was only sixteen years old, about to go to Hogwarts for his sixth year. He shouldn't have to worry about war, violence and death… But war caused everyone to age quickly. He felt older than ever, even as his subconscious kept adding to the list of spells he wanted to learn, sure that they'd be useful when he eventually joined the Order…

He settled himself comfortably on his bed, and stared at his ceiling pensively. He couldn't participate in the fight until he was of age, anyway – and as much as he hated it, he knew that it was true. At that moment, he simply wasn't good enough to fight. Oh, he was sure he could become an excellent dueller – but it was a process that would take time and a lot of practice. He'd been quite confident (and a tad overconfident) of his abilities, but his experience last month had rudely slapped him awake. He'd been barely holding on against Jugson, and if Lily Evans hadn't arrived when she had, Jugson would've probably overpowered him. If he couldn't beat a measly Death Eater, how in the world could he even think about facing Voldemort?

Then there was the small matter of Lily and her flame barrier. It was undoubtedly a complex piece of magic, to manipulate an element into a form of your choice… And Lily had been able to do it successfully. What was more, she'd taken the best element for offence – Fire – and used it for defence. James was more than impressed when he'd seen it – it had been what had kept the Death Eaters at bay as they'd futilely tried to break it down. Lily hadn't yielded one bit – James was sure she'd have held on for longer if she hadn't been Cursed. Oh, she may have sent him a letter to express her gratitude for saving her life – but she'd saved his life as much as he'd saved hers. Quite frankly, if it hadn't been for her, he'd never have been able to help his parents…

He had to learn that bit of magic from her. He just had to… In his fourth year, Professor Malfoy had told them that the Elemental Shield was an incredibly complex spell, so complex that she'd declined from teaching it to them… But here was Lily, using the Wave as a Shield anyway. He just had to learn how to do that… There was so much that he had to learn.

He sighed again and shoved these depressing thoughts aside. At that moment, he was safe at home, his parents were all right, and so long as Dumbledore was on their side, he wasn't too worried. Wasn't Dumbledore the one person Voldemort was afraid of? The Dark Lord hadn't attempted to attack Hogwarts or Hogsmeade – yet. His attempts to induce unrest or panic at the school had been feeble – Marcus Arnold, the Widerwille Potion – they were pathetic attempts; designed to create a distrustful climate, but not strong enough to truly dent their attempts to stop him. His spirits rose slightly; spotting Prisoners of the Sun in the box housing the Tintin collection, he picked it up and started to read, eager to find out how Tintin and Captain Haddock save Professor Calculus…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He was in the South American jungle somewhere in the Andes… Ahead of him, Tintin and Captain Haddock walked stealthily… James whipped out his wand. He was getting the undeniable sense that something was about to go wrong, and he wanted to be prepared for any untoward incidents… It was pitch-black, and he couldn't even see the night sky. "Lumos!" he whispered, and the wand-tip came alight at once. Tintin looked around and mouthed 'Thanks!' at him; he nodded and kept walking behind them as they came up to a clearing…

Suddenly, he heard a whooshing noise, and a gargantuan bat attacked them. "Blistering barnacles – get away, you blundering bloodsucker!" Captain Haddock yelled, trying to beat the massive animal away. "Cannibal – nitwit – stool-pigeon – ectoplasm –"

James raised his wand, but the bat landed directly in front of him. Then – to his shock, it spoke in a very familiar voice. "Prongs!" it said urgently, beating him with its wings. "Wake up, Prongs!"

James's eyes shot open, and he nearly fell out of his bed. He quickly reached for his glasses on the dresser, and wore them… Once his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight his room was bathed in, the pale face of Sirius Black came into view, complete with windswept hair and beads of sweat. He clutched a broomstick in one hand, and his wand in the other – behind him, on the floor, lay his trunk.

"Padfoot!" exclaimed James in disbelief. By the looks of it, his friend had flown in through James's open window on his broomstick. James knew that the ancient wards around Potter Mansion would admit Sirius, with Mr Potter having granted him permission to do so last year… "You sea-gherkin," James said, his eyes wide, "What – in the name of Morgana – are you doing here – at this time of the night?"

"Sea-gherkin?" repeated Sirius, nonplussed. "As in, sea cucumber?"

"No, I mean sea lion, you coelacanth! Blimey – what're you doing here?"

"I ran away," said Sirius simply, sitting down on James's bed, looking devastated. "I – I couldn't take it anymore – so, I came to the only place that made sense."

James simply stared at his best friend. He knew all about Sirius's problems with his family… Simply put, he disliked the whole lot. They were pureblood maniacs who thought – his eyes narrowed – that Voldemort had the right idea, wanting to purge Britain of Muggles and Muggle-borns. Really, how could anyone think that? And he knew how much Sirius hated going home for the holidays. He stayed over at Hogwarts as much as he could – he did so during the Christmas holidays in their first and second years, and spent the next three at Potter Mansion, declaring loudly that since Christmas was a time to be spent with one's family, he was doing the same; for they – James, and his parents – were his real family.

James sat down on the bed next to Sirius, who was holding his head in his hands. "All right," he said, thinking quickly, "Why don't you move this stuff into the bedroom next door, and come downstairs to the dining room? I'll wake my parents up until then – OK?" Sirius nodded slightly, and James squeezed his shoulder comfortingly before making his way to his parents' bedroom, shaking his head.

A few minutes later, they were all seated around the dining table. "Well – this is quite unusual, Sirius," Mr Potter said gravely. "What happened? How did you get here?"

"I'll make some hot chocolate, Sirius – dear," said Mrs Potter gently, before hurrying towards the kitchen. Sirius – James had to admire his nerve – looked straight at Mr Potter, his face passive and expressionless. "I ran away, Mr Potter," he said shortly. "It got too much – I couldn't take it anymore…"

Mrs Potter returned at that moment, and placed the steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of Sirius, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. He said, "Look – Mr Potter, I'm really sorry for showing up unannounced like this. If you don't mind – I'd like to stay here for a couple of days – before looking for a place to live."

Mrs Potter made a clicking noise with her tongue and said, "We can discuss that later, dear… First things first. What happened?"

Sirius glanced at James, who gave him an encouraging nod. James was as curious as his parents to know what had caused Sirius to fly right into James's room – through his open window, no less – with his Hogwarts trunk in tow.

"My parents happened," Sirius responded tersely. "I was in my room earlier this evening…"

XXXXX Sirius's POV XXXXX

"Here is dinner for Master Sirius – serves him right, bread and cheese," said a croaky voice, just as the clock on the wall indicated midnight. Sirius turned around to find Kreacher setting down a plate with a stale loaf of bread and some cheese that looked extremely unappetizing. Well, at least they're not starving me right now, he thought sardonically… He felt a ripple of anger as he spied the house-elf whom he heartily despised. "Buzz off, Kreacher," he snapped, getting up and striding towards the plate of food. "No one asked for your opinion, you little toerag."

"Master Sirius is the one who associates with Mudbloods and filth," said the elf defiantly. "Oh, poor Kreacher's Mistress – does Master Sirius know what he puts Mistress through every time he comes home?"

"Yeah, yeah – I know, the miserable old hag doesn't like me," snarled Sirius. "I know that I'm a constant disappointment to her and her bleeding ideals."

"And yet Master Sirius continues to behave without shame!" Kreacher croaked feelingly. "Master Sirius is a terrible, terrible boy –"

"That does it!" snapped Sirius, enraged beyond measure. He opened the door of his bedroom and kicked the house-elf out, ignoring Kreacher's shocked squeal as he rattled down two flights of stairs. Stupid bugger, thought Sirius angrily. Who the hell does he think he is, the bloody rotten scoundrel? He calmly began to eat the bread, staring at the Gryffindor banners in his room, waiting for the storm that was sure to come in the form of his mother…

And sure enough, ten minutes later, Mrs Black entered the room without invitation. "Why did you kick that elf down the stairs, you vile boy?" she screamed, "The poor thing – he broke his hand!"

"Fat lot of difference that makes – he hardly ever cleans," said Sirius indifferently. It was worth it to see the colour rise in his mother's face; he wondered why she was awake at this late hour. Was she waiting for a report from Kreacher about his reaction to the food?

"Bread and cheese for the entire month – and no visiting any of your friends!" she shouted. Sirius laughed derisively. "That's the worst you can do? You're slipping, mother…"

"I – you –" Mrs Black sputtered, incoherent with anger, "You accursed boy, you've been a disappointment ever since you were born! I feel ashamed – ashamed – to even call you my son!"

"Then don't," Sirius snapped, his blood boiling.

"Why can't you be more like Regulus?" raged Mrs Black.

"Because I'm not a fool!" Sirius yelled, finally losing his temper. "He's stupid enough to believe what you tell him – about how being a pureblood makes him practically royal! Well, wake up, Mum – it doesn't! There's no difference between purebloods and half-bloods and Muggle-borns – d'you hear me?"

"This again," said Mrs Black, shaking her head and laughing hollowly. "This is all because of that boy you associate with – him and his infernal parents. The Potters – they don't have the proper pride that comes with being a pureblood – they're blood traitors, the whole lot of them! And they've managed to corrupt you, too – don't you see, son?"

"Don't," whispered Sirius in a deadly voice, "Don't you dare insult them!"

But Mrs Black snorted derisively. "I only tolerated your visits to Potter Mansion because Mr Potter's an important official in the Ministry, and we could've used his influence had we ever needed it!" she said with relish. "Otherwise, he's nothing but a blood traitor, and his son isn't fit to marry even a dastardly Weasley!"

"SHUT UP!" yelled Sirius, losing all control. "SHUT YOUR FILTHY TRAP!"

His mother looked shocked. "What did you say to me?" she asked, her voice dangerous.

"You heard me!" shouted Sirius. "The Potters are my family – more than you could ever be. In fact – you know what, they're my real family… I'm going! I've had enough!"

"Going?" his mother repeated incredulously. "Where?"

"To James's – that's where," replied Sirius, making his decision in a flash. "Don't bother to write!"

"Enough!" Mrs Black snapped. "I'm getting your father!" She turned her heel and stormed out of his room.

Sirius knew that he had just irreparably broken his relationship with his mother. Not that I ever had one, he thought cynically. He marvelled at how ridiculously calm he was feeling… Perhaps it was destiny, him going to live with James and his family – that certainly would explain the calmness. His heart lifted at the thought, and he was galvanized into action; he tore about the room, filling his already half-full Hogwarts trunk with everything he owned and treasured. He never really unpacked during the holidays; he despised staying at home, and always looked forward to returning to Hogwarts once the holidays ended…

He clasped the lid of his trunk and swept his gaze around the room one last time. The motorcycle pictures – he grinned fondly as he remembered his fascination with those; he'd liked the lesson on cars and motorcycles back in fourth year. The Gryffindor banners – they just served to emphasize how – how different he was – from the rest of his family. They were a symbol of hope; an indication that it is your actions, not your family, that defines who you are. There were posters of Cybill Shepherd, Patti Hansen and Diane Keaton – all wearing bikinis. They were beautiful women – Sirius had always been partial to blondes. Well, McKinnon was an exception, he thought wryly.

His eyes fell upon the photo hanging next to the poster of Cybill Shepherd. It showed four boys – laughing at one of their innumerable jokes. He remembered the photo very well; it had been taken last summer, when they'd all been to James's… There was Remus, smiling with mingled delight and surprise at being included with them all… Sirius felt a stab of sympathy for his friend, followed by an air of achievement. They'd conquered that objective of truly including him… Then there was Peter, who Sirius was sure only hung around with them because he thought they were cool. Well, we are cool, thought Sirius fairly. But then again, Peter had proven to be a useful friend, even going so far as to become an Animagus like him and James – Sirius trusted the fat boy implicitly, even if he could be a little slow at times. And James – James wasn't just his friend. He was his brother…

A sudden inspiration came to Sirius. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the posters and pictures, whispering, "Fides Aeternum!" He immediately checked his handiwork before drawing back, satisfied; the Permanent Sticking Charm was working perfectly. Thank God the Ministry doesn't care about magic inside a Wizarding house, he thought. They should know that their underage magic rule is rubbish… As he surveyed the photos and posters, he couldn't help but grin; this was sure to annoy his parents. It would serve as a fitting final act of defiance.

He pointed his wand at his packed trunk and whispered, "Pondus Minuere!" He then lifted his trunk; it weighed nothing more than a banana. His grin widened as he opened the window and picked up his broomstick; mounting it, he hung his trunk on the broom handle, happily enjoying the effects of his Weight-Reducing Charm. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on both trunk and broomstick; just as he was about to Disillusion himself, his door slammed open.

"What is the meaning of this, boy?" his father thundered. Sirius grinned disdainfully. "What does it look like? I'm leaving – I've had enough of you!"

"Stop him!" his mother shouted, but Mr Black merely gave him a cold glare. "You take one step out of this house, boy – we will disown you!" he said evenly, but Sirius recognized the vicious undercurrent in his voice. He shook his head; he'd reached a point where he'd stopped wishing that things were different – he'd stopped caring what his parents thought. Their feelings didn't mean anything to him anymore.

"Don't you see, father?" he said calmly, holding Mr Black's gaze. "I – am disowning – you. So long – I won't be seeing you!"

And with that parting shot, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and kicked off from the floor, flying out into the night. He rose higher and higher as the street-lights shrunk hazy blurs, before slowing down to a comfortable cruising speed. It was a clear night, and the gibbous moon shone brightly – Sirius felt the cool night air blow through his hair, and he began to relax. He was always at home on a broomstick – he may not be as prodigious a flyer as James, but he was not bad – he played in the Quidditch team, after all.

As he flew, however, reality began to hit him. He had just turned his back on his parents, and made off with everything he owned – without even stopping to call James through his twin mirror, without so much as asking him if he could just drop by at Potter Mansion unannounced… He didn't even know how James's parents, wonderful people though they were, would react when they saw him at their doorstep in the middle of the night, carrying his broomstick and his trunk…

Despair threatened to overwhelm him. He racked his brains for a possible, more logical course of action. Could he go to Andromeda's? She lived in London itself – but she was raising a two-year-old, and he doubted if Ted would take it too kindly if he just showed up at their little flat like this. Of course, Ted was nice and jolly, but Sirius didn't really know him well enough to take any sort of liberties with him…

James's house was his only option. Sighing, he raised his wand and whispered, "Point me." He knew that Godric's Hollow was located in West Country, in the vicinity of Dartmoor forest. He mentally thanked Lily Evans (who had introduced him to this spell), and he was relieved when his wand pointed to his right; it meant that he was heading in the correct direction. He knew that it would be hard to tell where he was, but he'd worry about that in an hour – for that was his estimate of the time it took to fly from London to Godric's Hollow.

Finally, once a glance at his watch told him that more than an hour had passed since he took flight, he began to descend. The countryside was dark, but the moonlight helped him separate dense trees from barren land; he was sure that the forest below him was Dartmoor forest. He began to fly in a circle at the boundary of the forest with as low an altitude as he dared – until, to his relief, he spied what looked like houses. He shot towards the ground excitedly – but he soon realised that the houses were unfamiliar, causing him to ascend once again into the night sky.

By the time he'd crossed the fourth such village, Sirius was starting to question the sanity of his plan. It had seemed good at the time – but now, now it just seemed plain stupid. I'm going to search for a fireplace in the next village, he thought firmly. I can't go on searching like this… He descended without much hope as the next community of houses came into view, but this time something was different. His heart gave an excited leap. He recognized the Town Square… He was at Godric's Hollow. He had made it.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Sirius kept flying until he recognized his second favourite building in the world: Potter Mansion, the colossal two-storey building with the huge orchard at the back. He had reached his destination – he lifted the Disillusionment Charm off himself, his broom and his trunk, and debated whether to just go in via the front door. He decided against it; it was late, and he would probably end up getting attacked by Mr Potter, Mrs Potter, or James, all of whom were highly skilled with magic. Nah, he had to think of something else…

As he flew closer to the mansion, he felt a strange sensation as if he'd just passed through jelly, and understood: that had to be the effect of the wards. Well, he'd been permitted entrance last year, hadn't he? He racked his brains, trying to figure out how to let James know of his presence – before slapping his head. What an idiot I am! he thought; I can simply knock on James's window! Putting thought into action, he flew up to the second floor until he came across James's bedroom. The sight of his best friend sleeping peacefully cheered him up immensely. He was there at last… He noticed that the window was open; James must've opened it to let the breeze in… Without thinking twice, he simply flew right into James's bedroom and quickly alighted from his broomstick.

"Prongs!" he whispered urgently, trying to shake his best friend awake – just like he'd done several times in their dormitory, especially after their excursions on full-moon nights. "Wake up, Prongs…"

XXXXX End of Sirius's POV XXXXX

"And that's that," said Sirius, coming to the end of his narrative. "I've been disowned because my parents are bloody fools who think that Voldemort's the best thing to have happened to Britain since wizards defeated the goblins a century ago – I couldn't stay in that filthy house a second longer, so I came to the only place that made sense in my head."

An uneasy silence followed Sirius's story. James was livid; how could Sirius's parents treat him like that? It was abhorrent! He squeezed his friend's shoulder once again, trying to gauge what his parents were thinking… But their faces remained inscrutable. Finally, Mrs Potter spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Sirius," she said gently, clasping one of Sirius's hands in his. "Also… You have my gratitude, for saying that we're your family, for standing up for us." Mr Potter nodded gravely, and James clapped his best friend on the back.

"It's the truth," said Sirius firmly. With a glance towards Mr Potter, he added, "Look – I'm sorry, I know this is an intrusion. I'll be gone first thing in the morning –"

"Gone?" Mrs Potter cut across him sharply. "Where?" James was surprised, too; whatever did Sirius mean? Why was he going so soon – he just got here, for Heaven's sake!

"I don't have much money," Sirius replied, and James knew that he was being completely serious – his eyes were hard and his jaw was set, which happened every time he was trying to make a point. "Perhaps I can borrow some from Andromeda. I'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron or something until September the First –"

"But why?" interrupted Mr Potter, his forehead wrinkled. "You're staying here!"

There was another silence, and James hardly dared to breathe. He fought to keep his glee from exploding; if his parents allowed Sirius to stay here for the entire duration of the summer holidays, they would have so much fun!

"I am?" said Sirius hopefully.

"'Course you are, sweetheart," said Mrs Potter, smiling warmly. "We're family, Sirius – didn't you say so yourself? Well – in that case, families ought to stay together!"

James whooped; he couldn't help it. There was a second of silence, following which Sirius got up and embraced Mr and Mrs Potter tightly. "Thank – thank you," he said thickly, and James was startled to see tears in his best friend's eyes. Sirius didn't cry – that was sort of his rule. He just didn't cry. But now… James supposed that he was overwhelmed, and he regrettably resolved to himself not to tease his friend for being such a sap later.

"James told us you've moved your stuff into the bedroom next to his," said Mrs Potter, standing up. "I think you've had a rough night, Sirius – are you hungry? I can whip something up right now, if you like."

"Er – I –" began Sirius, with an unsure glance at James, who grinned. "Don't be awkward, mate," he said brightly, just as Mrs Potter said, "It's no trouble, sweetheart – this is your home now. You're home." Mr Potter nodded and smiled reassuringly. Mrs Potter quickly bustled towards the kitchen.

"I'm home," repeated Sirius, overcome once again. "That's going to take some time to get used to…"

"Well – no time like the present, eh?" said James, beaming. "Mate – it's corking to have you here – we're going to have so much fun!"

"Two pranksters for the price of one," said Mr Potter with mock-trepidation, though the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. "I'm starting to regret this already." James stuck his tongue out at his Dad, who grinned at him.

"Look who's talking – who put fifteen powdered earwax-flavoured Bertie Bott's beans in Professor Dippet's pumpkin juice?" Mrs Potter called from the kitchen. James and Sirius looked at Mr Potter in admiration; the older man winked at them before saying, "The old codger wanted to kick girls off the Quidditch team 'coz two idiot Hufflepuffs were caught kissing in the changing rooms! What kind of a solution is that? Banning girls – I ask you."

James and Sirius sniggered as Mr Potter gave them another wink. James leaned back into his chair contentedly… It was going to be grand, having Sirius live with them. He felt terrible for his friend – James couldn't imagine a world where his doting parents despised him. Well – that's going to change now, he thought firmly… Now, Sirius is with his true family. His true family…

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