Chapter Three: When in Rome

The day that followed was a strange one. It soon became apparent to James that Sirius was not used to looking after himself.

"Help yourselves to breakfast, boys," Mrs Potter had said pleasantly that morning, after dabbing more Essence of Dittany on Sirius. "I'm off to work."

"Thanks, Mum," Said James, opening a cupboard.

"Thank you, Madam." Said Sirius stiffly, sitting down at the table as Mrs Potter left.

James frowned at him. "What are you doing?"

Sirius blinked. "…Sitting?"

"Are you not hungry?"

"I am; That's why I'm sitting."

"Hate to be the one to break the news to you, mate, breakfast's not going to fall out of the sky."

"I know," Said Sirius. "I'm waiting to be served."

James snorted. "By who? Guppy? You'll be waiting a long time. Guppy's not your slave, Padfoot."

"But-"

"Guppy's more of a… pet, really, than anything else. He gardens mostly-" James nodded out the window, where Guppy was kneeling on the windowsill, tending to flower-boxes. Noticing the attention, Guppy beamed and gave an enthusiastic wave.

Sirius felt a twinge of guilt.

"Mum and Dad don't have time to do stuff like gardening and maintaining the house," James explained, "So when he came with my grandmother's - you know, your gran-aunt Dorea- inheritance, they found Guppy simple stuff that he likes doing. It's win-win."

Sirius was confused. He always assumed that all house elves were bitter and misanthropic like Kreacher. A happy, laid-back elf seemed counter-productive. "What's the point, then?" He blurted out.

James sighed and took out two bowls. "Oh stay sitting, then, you idiot- but take notes."

Mrs Potter had left a list of chores for James and Sirius to get done while she was at work until five. They spent a few hours playing gobstones and wizard chess and debating whether Amelia Bones or Emmeline Vance was the hottest girl at Hogwarts.

"Bollocks," Said James suddenly, interrupting Sirius' deeply thought-out argument in Vance's favour.

"Hey!" Sirius objected. "I was just getting to the b-"

James waved the list. "It's quarter-to-four. We need to get the stuff for dinner, clean the kitchen, and de-gnome the garden before Mum gets back."

They began with the gnomes. James did this a couple of times every Summer, but Sirius had only ever chased gnomes around their small garden with Regulus as children.

After being kicked, bitten and mooned more times than he could count, Sirius collapsed into a dramatic sigh after five minutes.

"It's fine, Prongs," He said impatiently.

James was wrestling off a bearded gnome who was gnawing his forefinger. "There's only a few left."

Half an hour later, the garden was completely devoid of gnomes. James was satisfied, and despite being covered in dirt and sweat, Sirius glowed with pride.

"We really it stuck it to 'em, didn't we?" He grinned, beaming.

"Er, yeah."

The kitchen was easy enough. Guppy kindly assisted Sirius whenever James wasn't looking. Initially, Sirius was suspicious, and repeatedly hissed "Bugger off, I'm not giving you anything,", but when the elf persisted with a knowing smile and a wink, Sirius quickly took a shining him. Once every brass pot was gleaming, James beckoned Sirius towards him.

"Are we done?" Asked Sirius hopefully.

"Let's find out." There was a set of short lace curtains on the wall, covering a frame. James pulled a string, and they opened, revealing a portrait of a curvy, middle aged witch wearing patterned tangerine robes. She had a glowing, somewhat forceful, smile. Sirius instantly recognised her as Wanda Waverly-Wellington, the heroine of house-witches and wizards everywhere.

"Mum got it from Dad last Christmas," Said James miserably. "She nearly flipped a lid, thinking he was insinuating she wasn't domestic enough. Got it fond of it since, though." He narrowed his eyes at the blonde witch. "You open the curtains and she tells you if the kitchen's clean enough or not, and what you're doing wrong. Pain in the bloody arse."

"Now, now, Jamesie," Wanda scolded playfully, in an American Southern drawl. "Don't wanna let your mother hearin' you talk like that, or she'll have to wash your mouth out with my new sage and peppermint-"

"Shut up," James growled, pulling the curtains. "See what I mean? Couldn't figure out how to shut her up for ages, we were leaving the curtains open all night and all we could hear was 'I detect a speck of dirt on your quaint lil carpet, use my new and improved 'Ditch the Dirt' formula, made entirely of Veela urine." He imitated her accent with relish.

Sirius chuckled, as James opened the curtains again. Wanda's round, blue eyes were narrowed at James. "That's not a very nice way to talk 'bout your friends, Jamesie," She tutted, before turning to Sirius. "An' who's this fine young man?"

"Is the kitchen bloody clean or not?" James growled through gritted teeth.

Wanda tore her eyes away reluctantly. "Awlright, awlright, I'm lookin'." She muttered, assessing the kitchen. "Well, it's of a usual standard, I suppose, could use a splash of my classic-"

"That'll do." Said James, snapping the curtains shut.

The two sixteen year old boys stepped out into Godric's Hollow the midsummer sunshine. Sirius looked around in awe. Although he had seen the village the night before, it has been empty and dull in the darkness.

"Mostly Muggles 'round here," James explained. "There's about four wizarding families in the area, including us. There's also the Corners, the Rosiers and the McKinnons."

"Marlene's family?" Asked Sirius, flushing.

James began to laugh, and Sirius thumped him.

Marlene McKinnon was one of many, many girls at Hogwarts whom Sirius had had a fling with at some point, but she was the one who came closest to being his girlfriend. That is, until she found him shamelessly snogging a seventh year Hufflepuff under the Ravenclaw stands at a Quidditch match. Sirius had argued that they weren't actually a couple, and Marlene had jelly-legs-jinxed him so furiously that he couldn't walk for days.

"They live just down the road," Said James, and Sirius paled, glancing anxiously at his wonderfully-functioning legs. "But they're gone on holidays to Belgium for the summer."

Sirius relaxed then, as they walked to the nearest shop. "Fletcher's Newsagents and Post Office," Sirius read aloud slowly. "Hey- do you think they're related to Dung?"

"No," Answered James impatiently. "Like I said, they're all Muggles."

But Sirius was not listening. He wandered into the shop, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the rows of biscuit packets and teabags. He was still muttering about how boring Muggles were when he noticed a woman at the back of the shop, sweeping. She was stooped and scowling intensely as she moved the broom across the dirty floor.

Suddenly realising what she was doing, Sirius ran over in alarm and snatched the broom off of her.

The stooped woman flushed purple. "What exactly are you d-"

"What exactly are you doing?" Sirius interrupted, his tone challenging.

"I'm sweeping, you brat." She snapped, reaching for the broom.

Sirius examined it. "Not the finest I've seen. What is it, a Comet 47 at most?"

The woman seemed utterly flabbergasted. "I don't know what you're playing at, boy… Johnny!" She called shrilly, and a heavyset man with a thin moustache and stained apron stumbled over from behind the counter.

"What is it now, Bethel?" He grumbled.

Bethel pointed an accusing finger at Sirius. "This smart-alick is trying to steal from me and… and… undermine my labour."

Johnny winced, scratching one half of his moustache wearily. "Look, lad," he slurred, "Could you just hand over-"

Sirius was still looking at the reddening woman when realisation dawned on him. "Oh!" He cried. "Of course. You're a witch!"

"I beg your pardon?" She said dangerously, picking up a loaf of bread from the shelf and holding it threateningly.

"Sirius!" Called the alarmed voice of James, whose arms were full of vegetables. With a sigh of exasperation, he dropped the groceries on the counter and ran to his friend. "Give Mrs Fletcher her broom back now!"

"You never told me it was a wizard shop!" Sirius argued, ignoring the flustered Bethel and Johnny Fletcher.

"It isn't." Said James through gritted teeth, seizing Sirius' shoulders and swiftly steering him towards the door. "I need to pay for the stuff, try not to cause any more shit for thirty seconds." And he shoved him outside. James then walked up to the counter with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, he's a cousin- a bit loopy." Lowering his voice, he added. "He's from Yorkshire, you see."

Johnny and Bethel Fletcher glanced at each other and gaving a knowing nod. "You're alright, lad," Johnny said amiably. "Funny crowd up north, eh?" He handed James his change. "Maybe best keep him out of here, though, Bethel gets very nervous."

"I do not!"

"Er, yeah, will do," James smiled weakly. "Have a good day, then," And he walked out as casually as he could and onto the main street.

"Prongs," Said Sirius immediately. "That's really dangerous. Muggles using wizarding objects like that, it could've taken off with her! Poor old bird didn't even know what to do with it… Imagine, cleaning with a broom." He scoffed. "How ignorant can you get?"

James tried to be patient. "You do realise that Muggles used brooms for cleaning before we used them for flying?"

Sirius snorted. "As if."

"Not really, it's in Quidditch Through the Ages. Some medieval bloke was caught in a dingy castle and was being chased by a mob of Muggles, and he panicked and he enchanted the only thing he could find, a broom, and flew off on it, then it just caught on."

"But hang on, I thought Muggles used sweeping brushes and mops and all that useless stuff Filch uses?"

"Have you never noticed certain similarities between a sweeping brush and a broomstick?"

Sirius scratched the back of his head. "No, can't say I have."

They walked through Godric's Hollow as the sun began to set westwards, when they passed a group of Muggle teenagers from the village. The three girls and two boys were immersed in conversation. One guy had an outdated Beatles style haircut and John Lennon sunglasses; the other was tall, blonde and handsome, with a swimmer's body. He wore a striped vest and tight shorts. Of the girls, all three were attractive. Two were twins with long brown hair, decorated with flowers, and wore equally long skirts and waist coats. However, it was the third girl who caught Sirius' eye. She had dark, charcoal skin that glowed in the sunlight. Her thick black hair was cut crudely short, Grace Jones-style. She wore fringed denim shorts that showed off her long, slim legs, and despite the heat, a leather jacket. The swimmer boy had his arm draped around her shoulders, with a somewhat triumphant look on his face.

Sirius caught her eye and winked, and she gave a bemused smile in return.

"Oi!" The boyfriend reacted immediately, storming over and stepping in front of Sirius. "What exactly are you playing at?" His accent was cosmopolitan London, possibly Hammersmith.

"Playing?" Asked Sirius innocently. "No, no, this is called walking, mate." He took an exaggerated step forwards. "See?"

James laughed, and began to walk around the boy, but the blonde moved to block him. "Get out of my way, you knobhead." Said James.

The two hippie girls giggled and looked admiringly at the strangers.

"I don't know you," Said the swimmer boy.

"No, you don't." Said James. "Now move."

The boy turned on Sirius. "Or you. Why are you winking at my girlfriend?"

Sirius turned to James. "Not very bright, is he? Doesn't seemed to know what 'get out of the way' means."

"Obviously not," Sighed James, feigning pity. "Seems the lights are on but there's nobody home," He gave a little knock on the boy's massive chest, and his muscles seemed to flex with annoyance.

"Don't touch me, you filthy immigrant," The swimmer boy cried, flinching.

James and Sirius glanced at each other.

"Yeah, that's right," Continued the boy, sensing his upperhand. "I can tell you're not from here, you're all dark," He prodded James' sallow arm.

"I've lived here all my life, you ignorant twat, my Mum's Spanish is all," James snorted at the attempt at an insult.

"Yeah, you're mixed so!" The boy jeered. "Part Spanish, and all."

Sirius shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with you? It's called a bloody tan, it shouldn't scare you that much."

The boy seemed to withdraw. "Yeah, but…"
"And I'll have you know," Sirius continued. "His mum is fit as any girl you'll see 'round here, except your girlfriend, of course," He chanced another wink.

The said girlfriend, who had up until then seemed entirely disinterested in the brawl was frowning. "What's the matter, Guy?" She asked, dragging her lips away from a lit cigarette. "Never knew you had a problem with colour."

"I- Well you're different-"

The dark girl threw her head back and gave a throaty laugh. "Right," She said, dropping the cigarette stub on the ground and stepping on it. "Different," She repeated. "Well next time you're pissed off at your Mummy and want to make a point, find someone else who's different to shag." She narrowed her eyes and stalked off.

Guy seemed temporarily torn between following his now ex-girlfriend and finishing what he had started with the two strangers. " Jackie!" He called desperately, beginning to turn away.

"By the way, the reason I winked at your girlfriend is because she's fit as hell." Sirius smirked. "Sorry, ex-girlfriend."

In a wave of fury, the boy drew his fist back and threw a punch.

Sirius, anticipating the clumsy move, leaned back and danced away from it. "Good shot, champ," He grinned.

Guy seemed to swell with anger. "Don't you know who I am?" He snarled.

"No, and I don't care."

"I'm Guillame Godfrey," He said importantly, as if the name should mean something. When neither boy reacted, he finished off annoyedly- "You know, my father is Geoffrey Godfrey… The MP."

"The what?" Sirius, unable to follow Guy's attempts at self-importance wanted to finish up and go. "Look, mate, if your Daddy's so great, why don't you run after him and clear off?"

Guillame stepped forwards. He was about three inches taller than Sirius, who was tall as it was, and twice as muscular. Six weeks ago, Sirius could have matched him, but in his current state and without a wand he hadn't a prayer.

"Nigel," Called Guy, and the boy with the bad haircut dutifully stood beside him.

Sirius did not call James. He was already there.

"I won't have scummy bastards like you eyeballing our girlfriends, and loitering in our village." Said Guy distastefully.

James was getting impatient. "I keep telling you, this is my village, I'm bloody from here."

Guy and Nigel exchanged a snicker. "No you're not, mongrel." Guy was beginning to smirk, when Sirius punched him so hard in the face there was a crack, and a crevice appeared in his jaw. Suddenly Sirius was on top of him, throwing aimless punches at Guy, over and over, blood running over his fists.

"Holy shit!" Nigel exclaimed, jumping away from them.

James ran forwards and pulled Sirius back. Guy had fallen to the floor, unconscious, blood spouting from his lips where his teeth and cut through them. "You bastards are mad!" He cried.

"Come near us again, and I'll bang your heads together so hard you'll be touching tonsils, got it?" Sirius growled, wiping the blood off Guy's vest. "Come on, Prongs." And he tugged his friend away and lead him towards the house.

James took a few moments to realise what had happened. "You shouldn't have done that…" He said, glancing back at the scene. Nigel was attempting to drag Guy off the road and onto the footpath. "You didn't even know what he was saying."

Sirius shrugged. "Didn't need to." He muttered. "No different to calling someone a mudblood, if you're insulting them for something they can't help."

James was still somewhere between awed and horrified. "Still, you can't go around knocking people out for passing comments, you've just got to get over it sometimes."

Sirius shrugged again. "I don't care. He was a shit, he's the one who can get over it." His knuckles were quickly swelling and blackening. They were covered in Guy's blood after his teeth had sunken in, but he didn't care. He felt no guilt, no remorse. Only bitterness, and resentment. No-one talked to his friends like that and got away with it. His bond with James- and Remus and Peter- was impenetrable, impregnable. No-one was going to get in the way of their friendship. Not Guy. Not Mr Potter. Not his mother. No-one.

Sorry for the delay between chapters; I've been hand-writing the story then typing and uploading it, which is long and tedious. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.