Chapter One: Back to Hogwarts
Sirius Potter sat in the entry way of the house, tapping his foot in frustration. It was like this every year; he was ready to leave two hours early and his sisters were running around trying to get things together until finally they would leave twenty minutes late. Right now there was still an hour to go, but he had had three years experience in this kind of thing and he knew what to expect.
Sirius wasn’t a normal kid, of course; he was a wizard like his father and all of his siblings. For that he was incredibly grateful; he couldn’t imagine a life without magic. He had had it all his life, though he hadn’t been supposed to use it until he got to Hogwarts. He had been incredibly excited to go to school that first year; his older sister, Lillian, had told him all about her first year, and how much fun everything had been, and how much she had learned. She had shown him her wand, and he had watched in jealousy as she cast several spells with it. Most children wouldn’t be allowed to cast spells out of school until they turned seventeen, but the Potter House was an exception. Lillian and Sirius had overheard a private conversation between their mother and father discussing the wards on the house, and had learned that useful tidbit; magic done at the Potter House couldn’t be detected by anyone, not even the Ministry. Their father had set the wards himself, and no one could doubt that the famous Harry Potter would know what he was doing. Since then, Lillian had taught Sirius a large portion of what she learned, first before he even went to school, and then during the summer breaks in between. Lillian was one of the best students in her year, and she claimed showing him what she learned helped her remember everything. Sirius was just as happy to learn at first, since he was ahead of everyone when he got to school every year. The Ravenclaw students hated him, and he reveled in it; Ravenclaw had won the Quidditch Cup for the last four years in a row, and Gryffindor needed whatever it could get to rub into their smug faces.
This year would be different, Sirius thought fiercely. This year, with Lillian as the Quidditch Captian, they would win for sure. Of course, James had been the Ravenclaw Captain for two years, but everyone in the family knew that Lillian was better at Quidditch. And no one doubted that Sirius was the best Beater in the school. He had absolutely no fear of the Bludger, but he made sure his opponents did; last year he had knocked James off of his broom twice in one match. James had still caught the snitch in the end, but he had been flying none too steady by then. His parents were both baffled as to how he came by his stature; both of them had been small for their age when they were Fourth Years, but Sirius was only four inches shorter than his father was currently, and Harry was not a small man.
Sirius’ thoughts were interrupted as James came down the stairs dragging his trunk; Lillian and Sirius hadn’t yet revealed their discovery of the ability to perform underage magic to any of their siblings; that was why Sirius was always ready two hours early. Levitating your trunk instead of carrying it was just plain easier.
It was readily apparent that they were brothers; both had their father’s uncontrollable black hair and piercing green eyes, though James’ were hidden somewhat behind his glasses. What wasn’t as easy to see was that Sirius was the younger brother; he was a good couple inches taller, and much more muscular. James was small, though he was just as much of an athlete as Sirius; being small and quick made it easier to be a good Seaker.
“I see you’re up early as usual,” James said with a grin, as he pinned on a Head Boy’s Badge crookedly under his Captain’s badge, which was perfectly straight and polished until it shone.
Sirius couldn’t help but grin; just because James was a Ravenclaw and his bitterest Quidditch enemy, they were still brothers, and you couldn’t share a room with someone your whole life without being close. “I can’t keep the moral high ground when I start complaining if I’m just as late as they are. Head Boy, huh? Wow. Just when were you planning on telling Mum and Dad? Or the rest of us, for that matter”
James shrugged as he sat down on his trunk next to Sirius. “I dunno… Mum would make a big deal out of it, and Dad would be happy, but then Mum would tell Fred and George, and then the Weasleys would have advance notice… you know?”
Sirius nodded in understanding; Jack, Lee, Chris, and Brian, the Weasley quadruplets, whom everyone referred to as ‘the Weasleys,’ as though Hogwarts wasn’t full of Weasleys at this point. Sirius grinned ruefully, thinking how he had enough cousins at the school that it seemed like the whole student body was composed of relatives, and most of the staff were family friends. Anyway, the quadruplets were worse than their father and uncle had ever been, as far as keeping the rules went, and they would be murder on anyone in the extended family showing even a Prefect’s Badge. In fact, they had made Angelique, Bill and Fleur’s daughter, cry in front of the whole school just last year after she had been made a Prefect. That had caused some tension at the last family reunion, as Sirius recalled.
“Well, you know they’re going to see it from a mile away, and have some kind of ‘Welcome-to-Being-Head-Boy-Prank’ ready to go for you within five minutes of that.”
James nodded wearily. “They’ll have their fun, and if I’m not seriously injured and don’t make a big deal out of it, then they’ll get on with their lives and I can live in peace. That’s the way it was after I made Prefect.” He sounded fervently hopefull.
Sirius smiled before changing the subject. “What do you think of your chances for Quidditch this year?”
By agreement they never spoke of Quidditch until the school year started, since it would inevitably lead to some kind of argument; everyone had been shocked when a Potter, especially the firstborn Potter, ended up in Ravenclaw, but Harry and Ginny had made it clear to all of their children that they would be loved and treated equally no matter the circumstances, and after breaking up James’ and Sirius’ first fight over inter-House rivalry, he had given them a talking-to that neither ever forgot. They had always been close, and became determined not to let anything get in the way of that. Of course, Sirius was closer to Lillian, but everyone understood that, and James wasn’t the kind of person to get jealous over anything.
“Well…” James began, with a smug gleam beginning to shine in his eye, “I have to say that you have a tighter bunch of players. Every last one of you is a Potter or a Weasley, and that has to count for something. Good genes there, no doubt about it. But my players have been together as a team longer, and we have a better history for practicing. Your last Captain wasn’t the greatest strategist, though I daresay that won’t be much of a problem for you anymore…”
Sirius nodded emphatically. “Lillian is going to have the team whipped into shape in no time, and then you Ravenclaws are going to get what’s coming to you.”
“No doubt,” James said with a grin that plainly said that only victory was coming to them. “What about Slytherin this year? I hear that there are going to be several new players this year, and a new Captain, and you know they’ve never played fair.”
“Slytherin?” Sirius exclaimed in disbelief, “They haven’t put together a decent team since Dad was in school. Yeah, they may cause more injuries than any other team, but they hardly ever win. As well be afraid of Hufflepuff!”
Both of them laughed at the thought of Hufflepuff presenting a challenge.
“If the two of you have that attitude,” came Lillian’s voice from above them, “then you’ll deserve it when Hufflepuff finally beats you.”
Lillian was shorter than both of them, almost tiny, though she had the same hair and eyes as the two of them. She always complained about the hair, and could rarely do more with it than pulling it back into a pony tail. Even so, she was considered one of the most attractive girls in school, and Sirius had been sent to the Headmaster’s office more than a few times for pummeling some guy who said things he shouldn’t say in Sirius’ hearing. His defensiveness exasperated her; he knew she could take care of herself, but he still wasn’t about to let any dirty-minded teenage wizards get away with saying anything about her.
“Come on, sis,” James said evenly, “We all know that the Hufflepuff game is nothing more than a chance to rack up points for the tournament standings. Even they know it; I overheard one of their Captain’s pep-talks last year, and he went on and on about making sure they didn’t lose by too much, and didn’t say a word about trying to win.”
“Well, they have a new Captain this year, too,” she retorted, then paused and grinned. “I don’t think it’ll make much difference for their chances, but you should always take any opponent seriously. That’s what Dad says.”
Sirius grinned. Their father had always been willing to teach them things about Quidditch; up until a little more than two years ago, he had been the flying instructor and Quidditch referee at Hogwarts, before he moved onto another career, his current one. All of them were still a little embarrassed about that, but he was happy, and Mum supported him, so they knew they couldn’t say anything. They would just wait for him to move on to another career like he always did. Still, all of the Potters who cared for the game had been taught Quidditch and broomstick flying as soon as they could talk and walk, although the former wasn’t really necessary to Dad’s point of view.
“You’re down here early this year,” Sirius commented with a smile for his sister, and she responded with a grin of her own before she kicked the trunk out from under him. He barely caught himself from falling face first onto the tile floor.
“I can’t let you have the ‘moral high ground’ every year,” she said innocently as she offered him a hand back up.
Sirius took it, but then tried to kick her legs out from under her. He was fast, but she merely hopped over his legs and dropped his hand, smiling. He never could pull anything over on her.
“Is Muriel coming?” James asked, ignoring their antics. “And where is your trunk?”
“She’s coming, and both of our trunks are in the bus already,” Lillian said with a smirk. “Dad put them in before he left, so when he gets back, hopefully the two of you won’t keep us waiting for too long.”
Just then Muriel was bounding down the stairs, practically jumping with excitement; it was her first year, and she had been anxious to go to school for the past several years. She had fairer skin than the rest of them, and freckles covered her face and arms. She had her mother’s eyes, but Harry’s hair like the rest of them. Hers was cut short, and she didn’t bother trying to fix it; she was a bit of a tomboy and cared more about flying and playing with pets than doing her hair.
“What are we waiting for,” she asked with exasperation on finding them all sitting near the stairs.
“Dad’s not here yet,” Sirius said irritably. He hated being late.
“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” came their mother’s voice from down the hall. She had fed all of them breakfast a while before, and was busy with their other younger siblings now.
As if to prove her point, their father came in through the front door. “Come on, kids, the bus is ready to go!”
Harry was still in his prime; his hair had hardly any gray and his eyes were full of laughter. He was wearing a worn and ragged purple uniform that was the source of no small amount of embarrassment and exasperation for his children.
As they left the house, James and Sirius pulling their trunks along, another man met them at the door to the bus.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” he said, “Transportation for…”
“Come on, Stan, they know the drill! Let’s get moving!” Harry interrupted in a shout as he wordlessly and wandlessly levitated the trunks onto the bus before boarding himself.
His children barely managed to find seats before Harry stamped on the gas pedal, hard. The purple triple-decker shot off with a bang while Harry laughed in exhilaration.
***
Sirius sat in a compartment on the train with Lillian, talking happily about the Quidditch season, and what they would be doing as a team for training. The last Gryffindor team Captain hadn’t ever gotten them onto a good practice regimen, and Lillian fully intended to correct that error.
After a while, Sirius left to go change his into robes, while Lillian remained to do the same. After he had changed, Sirius began making his way back to the compartment, but was stopped by the opening of a compartment to his side.
“Ah, I thought I recognized that heavy tread,” Thomas Nott said, his deep set eyes glowing with hatred that fought with contempt for dominance on his face.
At least he’s alone, Sirius thought with relief, and no small amount of satisfaction. He readied his wand by his side; it was yew, 13 inches long, and had a phoenix feather core, just like his father’s. He was quick, quicker than his size would indicate, and Nott was no match for him and both of them knew it. They had met in the first year, and had hated each other from the moment they first saw each other. One was the grandson of a Death Eater, and the other the son of the man who had destroyed their Dark Lord. Moreover, Nott’s grandfather had died in prison afterwards, and their family bore an implacable hatred for any and all of the Potters. Still, Nott had learned the hard way that he needed his cronies before he could stand up to Sirius; unfortunately the boy seemed to have cronies in no short supply.
“Is there anything in particular you were looking to say, Nott, or did we say enough at the end of last year?” Sirius asked, his voice casual, but his grin tight.
Nott’s eyes narrowed; Sirius had made Nott regret saying things about his sister, not even bothering with his wand. His fists were enough. And he’d done it in front of everyone, before the teachers could intervene.
“You should have been born a Muggle,” Nott spat, “since you seem to enjoy fighting like one.”
Sirius’ scathing reply was cut short when the opposite compartment door burst open and three more students leaped onto him. He didn’t even have a chance to yell as he was pushed into Nott’s compartment, the door shut behind him. His wand was taken from him and a silencing charm was cast, just before a thick, ham-like fist punched his stomach viciously. He doubled over, only supported by the two boys holding his arms. Crabbe and Goyle, he saw with distaste as he finally regained his breath and straightened to look around him. The fourth boy was Damian Zabini, the biggest one there, and rumored to be the new Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Sirius noted the badge on the large boy’s chest and saw that he was. He was larger than any of them, more than a match for them physically, but there were four of them, and his wand was in Nott’s hands and his arms were behind his back. A thrill of fear coursed through him, but he forced his features to remain deadly calm. Showing fear would only give them what they wanted.
“Not so tough now, are you, Potter,” Nott said with a gleeful grin as he toyed with Sirius’ wand. “I decided over the summer that you needed to be taught a lesson for what you did to me, and I’ve had some time to think about it. So after we get done with you here, we’re going to go and find your sister.”
White-hot rage filled Sirius at the thought of the Slytherins going after his sister. By then, of course, he would be in no condition to come to her aid, and James wouldn’t know what was going on since he always spent the train ride with his fellow Ravenclaws. He couldn’t let it happen… The first cutting spell hit him unexpectedly, slicing a deep furrow in his cheek that left blood spattering around him. The second hit his arm, just as the pain from the first registered. Nott had no chance for a third.
He threw back his head, bellowing like a mad bull, not even thinking of the fact that due to the Silencing charm he shouldn’t be able to yell, and pulled his arms away from the two thick boys who held them, throwing them against the wall in the process. Damian was already swinging his heavy fist again, but Sirius caught that hand and threw it back with enough force to knock the boy down. He turned back to Nott, and found himself looking at the point of his own wand, held by the sneering boy. The others were getting up and pulling out their own wands, and Nott began casting a stunning spell.
Time slowed down. Sirius felt his rage grow even hotter, and thought he could feel the heat of that fire on his face. He thought he saw the look on Nott’s face change from confident contempt to fear and then a shockwave of magical energy, centering on and emanating from Sirius swept through the room. Nott was thrown back against the wall, unconscious, and the other three slumped to the ground as well, knocked out.
Sirius’ rage left him instantly as he looked around in astonishment and fear. He had been able to do magic without a wand before, and even without speaking, though not like his father. This, however, was beyond anything he had ever done, and it scared him. He was certain he did not want anyone to see what he had done without a wand, and he knew that his yell was going to attention quickly. Reclaiming his wand, he quickly inflicted a few bruises onto the other boy’s faces to make sure that it looked just like a normal fight; he doubted that they would remember what had happened exactly, and they would have to accept that he had just beaten them up. As he finished and straightened, he looked up as the door opened to reveal curious students.
There was nothing for it of course; before more than ten minutes passed, everyone on the train knew that Sirius Potter had fought four other wizards and won. Everyone knew that he had beaten them up pretty badly, and that they were still unconscious. His siblings joined him before long, James with a rueful grin and a shake of his head, while Lillian gasped and conjured bandages, scolding him for fighting while cleaning his cuts. Muriel came in a little later, wide-eyed, demanding to know if Sirius had really fought off ten Slytherin Seventh-years with his bare hands. James shook his head in exasperation and told her that it had only been four, and that Sirius used his wand as well.
Sirius didn’t bother to correct him; he was only half listening to the others, ignoring the stinging pain of having the cuts washed out.
What happened? he asked himself over and over again. How did I do what I just did? He remembered the Silencing charm now, and he could vaguely recall a feeling of throwing something off before he had begun shouting. And the magic… he had been able to do wandless magic as a child, like almost all of his siblings, but all of them had outgrown the childish unfocused manifestations of magical ability soon after getting their wands. Sirius’ experience had almost never been unfocused, and he could do most of what he could do with a wand without one, even still. He knew his father could as well, but Harry always talked about having all of the knowledge of Albus Dumbledore passed on to him, and Sirius knew that nothing like that had happened to him. Besides, he had learned everything he could do… mostly. Sometimes, when he was learning something he was sure was new, he had the feeling that he was only being reminded of it, and he almost never needed to be shown something more than once before he could do it himself. No one else knew that of course; after getting strange looks from his teachers in his first year and learning that everyone else couldn’t learn that way, he had hidden his abilities from everyone, even Lillian. He really enjoyed the time they spent together every summer, with her showing him the next year’s magical curriculum, and he wasn’t about to spoil that, even if he had moved beyond what she could teach him a long time earlier. He had a burning desire to learn, to test his abilities; having Harry Potter for a father had given him a thirst to prove himself, though even with all he could do it seemed doubtful he would ever live up to his father’s name. Despite that, he was content to be the best in his year, and hide the fact that he was much better than that.
He sighed again and shifted, earning further scolding from his sister. He did not look forward to the disciplinary action he knew he would be facing very near to the moment he arrived at Hogwarts.
Okay, so I was finally convinced by all of my readers from Harry Potter and the Mind’s Eye to do a sequel… Well, mostly I was just sitting and thinking and ideas started popping into my head, and then I was writing, and this is what happened. I hope everyone who wanted more finds this: review and let me know that you have and what you think!