"…And that's when they appeared outside the Shrieking Shack, tangled in each other's arms, half their clothes had been Vanished —"

"Padfoot," said James exasperatedly. They were in the boys' dormitory, packing their things; it was the last day of term, and Sirius was taking the opportunity to retell what had happened during their Apparition Exam for the hundredth time.

"What?" asked Sirius innocently.

"That's not what happened." James waved his wand, and the Quidditch paraphernalia on his bedside table jumped into his trunk.

"James," said Remus, "are you suggesting that Sirius' recollections are not entirely in line with reality?"

"Hard as that may be to believe…" said James.

Remus was folding his robes by hand. "Allow me to register my astonishment. Padfoot's an incredibly reliable source, this is the first time anyone's suggested otherwise…"

Sirius threw one of his dress shoes at Remus. "You're supposed to be on my side, Moony. I know what I saw. And I saw two young Gryffindors in the throes of passion, consummating their love during a Ministry exam —"

Peter sighed. "You're so lucky, Prongs. I wish I was dating Lily Evans."

"I dunno how many times I have to tell you this, Pete, but we're not dating," said James.

He'd been saying this for days. It never had any effect.

"You are dating," said Sirius confidently.

"Half the school is saying you are," added Peter.

"Three-quarters, by my last count," said Remus.

"Yeah," said James, "but three-quarters of the school also thinks that Mulciber tried to feed Sally to his pet Manticore in the dungeons, so…" He locked his trunk and slung his broomstick over his shoulder. "Ready, you lot? The carriages leave in ten."

"Think it'll be weird?" asked Sirius. "Taking the train again, after…?"

He trailed off, letting the rest of his question hang in the air unsaid. During the end of year feast, Dumbledore had announced that the Hogwarts Express would resume its usual business of taking them to London. Supposedly, the train's magical defences had been strengthened to such an extent that an attack from Lord Voldemort was no longer possible. James suspected that Dumbledore would be making the journey to London with them from now on; he couldn't think of any other measure that would deter Voldemort as strongly.

"Does Lily think you're dating?" asked Peter as they lugged their trunks to the ground floor.

"Er," said James. "I dunno." He was eighty per cent certain she had only kissed him to provoke Severus Snape. He had to admire her form; she'd done a better job pissing off Snape than James ever had, and he'd had years of practice.

But that didn't mean he and Lily were dating. He would have asked her about it — surely she would know whether or not they were a couple — except he wasn't entirely sure how to go about doing so. Suppose she'd really meant it when she'd said she fancied him? He'd sound like an arsehole if he accused her of having ulterior motives.

Not to mention — he was so lost in thought that he stumbled on a trick step — not to mention that he really didn't want to consider the possibility that it was all a ruse. If she'd only kissed him to piss off Snape… if she'd lied about fancying him…

She kissed me because she knows I was mad about her, thought James. She knew I'd let her do it. The thought made him feel physically ill. He'd rather lose a Quidditch match — maybe even two — than accept that Lily might have taken advantage of him like that.

James forced himself to remain positive. It was a good thing the school year was over. He'd go to his parent's summer home in Norfolk, and Lily would go to her Muggle village with the funny name, and by August they'd surely have both forgotten about the whole ordeal. They could start afresh.

Feeling considerably better about the whole thing, James shoved his trunk into the back of one of the carriages. Satisfied, he opened the carriage door, ready to climb inside, when he found himself face to face with —

His mind went blank.

"Are you alright?" asked Peter.

"Erm," said James. He was staring at a winged, skeletal horse whose head was inches from his face.

"Oh," said Remus, in the tone of someone who had just realized they needed to bear very bad news to a person who hadn't heard it yet. "I'm so sorry, Prongs. I didn't know. You've never…?"

"No," said James. He couldn't tear his eyes from the cadaverous creature in front of him.

Peter had a worried look on his face. "James, what —?"

"It's obvious, isn't it, Pete?" said Sirius, who had cottoned on immediately. He turned to James. "You can see thestrals now, can't you?"

"Erm," said James again. "Yeah, I guess. Looks like I can."

Remus put a hand on James' shoulder. "It's alright, Prongs. I know they're a bit… well, horrible. But they're gentle creatures." He produced a strip of dried meat from out of nowhere and placed it in James' hand. "Why don't you try feeding it?"

James didn't particularly want to feed the thestral, but didn't see how he could refuse without looking foolish. He held the strip of dried meat out to the thestral, which gulped it out of his hand. It had fangs inside its horrible mouth.

Peter squinted, as though he'd be able to see the thestral if he only focused a little harder. "Who did you see die? I thought Sally —"

"The girl on the train," said James dully, and Peter shut up at once, looking horrified. "The one You-Know-Who killed. Amy Roberts."

Remus patted the thestral, and it nuzzled his shoulder in a gesture that was strangely affectionate. "Good girl. Would you mind taking us to Hogsmeade station? Quickly, if you don't mind — I think we're running late."

Nobody spoke during the carriage ride to Hogsmeade; they seemed to be waiting for James to say something first, and he didn't feel particularly inclined. When they arrived at Hogsmeade station, the Hogwarts Express was already chugging away from the platform; they ran towards the train in a flat-out sprint, and an Auror with a bald head helped them aboard.

To James' surprise, their usual compartment at the back of the train was already occupied by the sixth-year Gryffindor girls.

"It's about time," said Marlene. "We thought you lot might've piled atop Sirius' motorbike and flown to London."

"Next time," said Sirius, tossing his trunk into the luggage rack. "Budge up, will you? You girls are taking up the entire compartment, there's no room…"

Marlene tugged on Sirius' sleeve to make him sit down, though he ended up half in her lap. There was an obvious empty seat beside Lily, but Peter opted to squeeze himself in between Mary and Parvana instead, and Remus sat on the floor.

As if on cue, everyone turned to watch James expectantly. Sirius raised his eyebrows and motioned towards Lily with a gesture he probably thought was subtle. Lily, for her part, was looking anywhere but at James.

James considered sitting next to Remus on the floor but figured he'd look like a prat if he did.

"Erm," he said. He cleared his throat; a bit of phlegm had gotten stuck there. "Mind if I sit here, Lily?"

"Oh," said Lily, sounding as though she had just realized there was an empty seat beside her. "That's fine, I'll just…" She moved towards Marlene, leaving plenty of space for James.

"Thanks," said James, and she flashed him a quick smile. He was careful not to touch even the hem of her robes as he sat down.

Sirius snickered, which turned into a yelp as Marlene elbowed him in the ribs. "What?" he said indignantly. "I didn't —"

"First things first," said Marlene, sounding smug. "The Year in Review."

"God, what a year it's been," said Mary, and Peter nodded in agreement.

"That's an understatement," said Marlene. "Show of hands, Gryffindors: who's had an excellent year?"

She stuck her hand in the air, though she seemed to do so more out of defiance than any genuine feeling. Nobody else raised their hand right away. Finally, Peter put his hand up with a little shrug. Parvana was next to raise her hand, followed by Remus. Sirius made a half-gesture that could have gone either way. Mary raised her hand, though she looked unsure about it.

Marlene looked at Lily and James expectantly. "Well?"

"It's complicated," said Lily.

James nodded, relieved that Lily had spoken first. 'Complicated' was the perfect word to describe the year he'd had.

"Of course it is," said Marlene. "But you can still have an excellent year. I did."

"Lily's got a point," said James. He tried to ignore the way his friends' heads snapped towards him, as if he'd just said something unbelievable. "Some really good things happened this year, it's true. We threw some smashing seventeenth birthday parties, won the Quidditch Cup, got Mulciber expelled…"

"Here, here," said Peter.

"Yeah," said Sirius, "plus we invented the Mar—"

"Marmite on toast," finished Remus, with a glance at Sirius.

"Er, right," said James. "All of that's been brilliant. But other things happened, too. Not-so-brilliant things. The attack on the train… and the students who were killed… That wasn't excellent. It was horrible."

"Exactly," said Lily, and there was no mistaking the way the rest of the compartment gawked at her for agreeing with him. "How can I say I've had an excellent year when Sally spent six months trapped in a painting? When I had to tell my mum that our family isn't safe anymore?" she turned to Marlene. "James nearly died a few weeks ago. Of course he hasn't had an excellent year!"

Marlene was momentarily speechless. "You've got a point, actually," she said at last. "Alright, then. Six out of the eight of us did have an excellent year, so… that's an Acceptable, that's fine. Moving on… did we win the Quidditch Cup?"

"You'd better fucking believe we did," said Sirius. Mary gave Parvana a hug.

"Second year in a row," said Marlene proudly. "Fantastic work."

"Speaking of fantastic," said Remus, "the House Cup…"

Peter and Mary began to chant. "Second place! Second place!"

"I can't believe it actually happened," said Lily. "You lot must've turned over a new leaf, we're usually last by hundreds of points…"

"It was all Dumbledore's doing, God bless him," said Sirius. "He just so happened to award you and James the exact number of points we needed to propel us comfortably into second place."

"You realize what this means, though," said Marlene. "Next year we'll have to do even better. We'll have to get first place."

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then the compartment erupted in laughter.

"First place!" said Sirius, wiping his eyes. "Gryffindor, winning the House Cup!"

Marlene looked indignant. "It could happen!"

"No, it couldn't," said Remus.

Lily patted Marlene's hand consolingly. "It was a nice thought, anyway."

Peter looked thoughtful. "We might have a chance at the Cup if James and Lily play the hero again. Dumbledore might give extra points if they rescue a teacher next time."

"Yeah," said Sirius. "What're the chances that McGonagall finds herself in mortal peril next year, d'you think?"

"I think Minnie's a damn sight more competent than I am," said James.

"True," said Marlene. "You might have to save Professor Kettleburn from himself though, I think his pet Kneazle took off a finger last week… again... Anyway, next topic — let's talk about romance."

"Let's not," said James and Lily at the same time.

Marlene arched an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

"Er," said James uncomfortably. He was acutely aware that Parvana was watching him. "What's there to talk about? Bit of a boring topic, really, romance… Best to leave some things, er, private, you know…"

"There's no need to be shy, Prongs," said Sirius. "Everybody knows you and Lily are snogging."

"Okay," said Lily, "we are not —"

Peter looked confused. "But Sirius swears he saw you two —"

"You went a bit further than snogging, didn't you?" Mary asked Lily. "That's what Sirius told me, at least, he said he even caught a glimpse of James' —"

"OY!" shouted James.

Peter and Mary laughed. Parvana smiled nervously.

"We're not judging you," said Marlene. "It's about time, after all."

"That's great," said James, "except we didn't snog, and we certainly didn't —"

"Has anybody got a Pensieve?" asked Sirius loudly, standing up. "I will submit for this jury's consideration, one untarnished memory of James Potter and Lily Evans, mid-air and eating each other's faces…"

Remus made a show of patting his pockets. "Crumbs, I must have left my Pensieve in the boys' dormitory. Silly of me, I ought to carry a spare…"

Sirius was now enthusiastically acting out the activity he had supposedly seen James and Lily engaged in. Lily buried her face in her hands.

"Sirius," said James exasperatedly, "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but would you give it a rest?"

He gestured at Lily, whose face was still hidden behind her hands.

Sirius deflated a little. "Alright, alright," he said, and he reached out to rub Lily's shoulder affectionately. "I'm sorry, Wondergirl — got a bit carried away, that's all. Can you forgive me?"

Lily peeked at him from behind her fingers. "Apology accepted, but you'll have to make it up to me. I want five Cauldron Cakes off the trolley."

"Done." Sirius pulled open the door of the compartment and bounded into the corridor.

Mary turned to Lily and James, her expression earnest. "Now that he's gone, you can tell us the truth. We won't take the mickey."

"Yeah, out with it," said Marlene.

"Yeah," echoed Parvana. She flashed James a small, encouraging smile.

"Erm," said James. He still wasn't entirely clear on what the truth actually was. He looked helplessly towards Lily.

Lily crossed her arms and gave everyone in the compartment a disparaging look. "Well, we're not shagging. Sorry to disappoint."

Mary stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "I knew Sirius' story sounded too good to be true."

"That's too bad," agreed Marlene. "Did you two even snog?"

"Nah," said James. He was trying very hard to sound as if he didn't mind discussing with the entire compartment whether or not he and Lily Evans had, in fact, pressed their lips together.

Peter looked crestfallen. "You didn't even kiss?"

"'Fraid not," said James breezily. "You know how Sirius gets, that imagination of his…"

"Yeah," said Lily, seeming bolstered by James' response. "I think he made it all up for a laugh."

"What a shame," said Mary, shaking her head. Remus leaned towards Peter and muttered something that sounded very much like 'back to the drawing board'.

Parvana, who up to this point had looked vaguely uncomfortable, spoke up. "I snogged someone."

"We know," said Marlene. "You and James, right?"

"No," said Parvana. "Well, yes, but after that. There's a bloke in Ravenclaw I've been seeing. Bilius Weasley, do you know him?"

"Ooh, yes," said Mary. "Isn't he one of their Beaters, the ginger one?"

Parvana's cheeks darkened as she nodded.

Marlene whistled appreciatively. "Nice going. Though Weasley's not exactly my type…"

James felt like he was short-circuiting. He'd been certain that the talk of him and Lily would have hurt Parvana's feelings, or made her feel uncomfortable. But if she had moved on and was seeing someone else… Maybe his caution wasn't necessary.

"Alright," said Marlene, tallying up their points. "So we've got snogs from Parvana and James… I'll count Parvana twice, since she's had two boyfriends this year…"

"Peter and I snogged after we won the Quidditch Cup," offered Mary.

"Again?" asked Remus.

"It's our tradition," said Peter proudly.

"Good work," said Marlene. "So that's you four, plus Sirius — I'm sure he's snogged something, even if it was just his reflection. And if Parvana counts twice…" She counted on her fingers. "Another Acceptable! That's not bad at all."

"Better than last year, at least," agreed Lily.

Sirius returned with his arms full of enough sweets for the whole compartment. After everyone had eaten their fill, they began to play an elaborate game of Exploding Snap as the Hogwarts Express trundled through the English countryside. After the fourth round, Mary peered out the window. "I don't believe it! Are we in London already?"

What followed was a mad scramble as everyone changed out of their robes and grabbed their belongings before a harried-looking pair of Aurors ushered them off the train and onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

As the Aurors steered him this way and that, James quickly found himself separated from the others; the platform bustled with so much activity that it was impossible to stick together. At last, he caught a glimpse of red hair in the crowd, and he elbowed his way through the throng.

"Evans!"

She turned, her eyes widening as she caught sight of him.

"Evans," he said again once he had reached her. "Can we talk?"

She looked hurt. "Back to calling me Evans, are you?"

"Er, sorry," he said. "Lily. D'you mind if we, erm, have a chat?"

"Here?" said Lily, looking around the crowded platform.

James glanced about; nobody was paying them any mind. "I'll make it quick. Just wanted to talk, erm, about what happened. During our Apparition exam."

Lily went scarlet. "Oh."

"Yeah," said James, who felt as uncomfortable as Lily looked. "Not that — look, I'm not upset, but… it was sudden, wasn't it? Not the exam, I mean — the, erm…" He gestured vaguely, as he'd apparently lost the ability to form complete sentences. "I'm a bit confused, that's all."

Lily's cheeks were so red he thought steam might pour out of her ears. "The whole castle thinks we're dating," she said miserably.

"Yeah," he said. "So, erm. Are we?"

Lily nearly dropped her trunk. "Are you serious?"

"Er. Sort of."

"You are serious." She looked amazed. "You're honestly asking me if we're dating."

Her tone of voice made James feel foolish. "You said it first!" he said defensively. "You told Severus that I was your boyfriend. And then you kissed me."

"Shh!" said Lily. She looked around frantically, as though the first years clustered nearby were trying to eavesdrop. "Do you really have to say it out loud like that?"

"What? It's not like it's a secret. One moment you're kissing me —"

"— can you please lower your voice —"

"— and the next you're acting like nothing ever happened. You see why I'm confused."

"James." She looked uncomfortable. "We're not dating."

"Ah," he said stupidly. He'd suspected as much, but it still stung.

Lily bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" said James, whose voice sounded falsely chipper and entirely unlike himself. "I mean, it makes sense. Of course we aren't dating. If we were, we'd be shagging each other. But we're not. So."

Lily graciously ignored the bit about shagging. "I am sorry, though. It was a stupid thing for me to say. And it was stupid of me to kiss you like that."

"Nah, it was brilliant," said James. "Did you see the look on Snape's face?"

Lily's lips twitched. "He nearly had a coronary, didn't he?"

"That's putting it mildly," said James. He had a sudden bolt of inspiration. "Listen. We should keep this up next year."

"What? But we're not —"

"Dating? I know. But Snivellus doesn't."

Lily's eyebrows drew together. He liked her eyebrows; they were a decent size, not too thin but not too bushy, either. "What are you suggesting?"

"Just that we pretend we're dating. Not all the time, but in front of Snivellus, at least. Maybe that way he'll finally leave you alone."

Lily looked thoughtful. "That's… not a bad idea, actually. I can't stand him. He won't stay away from me, nothing works… But if he sees me with you…"

"He'd have to keep his distance," said James. "After what happened in the dungeons, he'll be expelled if he so much as looks at me funny."

She looked him up and down appraisingly. "I suppose pretending to date you wouldn't be so bad. Especially if it keeps Sev away."

"Right," said James, bouncing on his toes excitedly. She didn't hate the idea! "I'll write to you over the holidays — we can make up a story about how we fell in love over the summer, or some nonsense like that. Remus is surprisingly good at spreading rumours, once we go back to Hogwarts it'll spread like wildfire…"

"Good idea," said Lily. "But we'll probably need some ground rules, too. So we don't overstep each other's boundaries."

"Brilliant," lied James, who didn't find the thought of rules brilliant at all. He pulled a scrap of parchment out of his bag and scribbled on it. "Here's my address… Just send me an owl once you're home and we'll work everything out, alright?"

Lily examined the bit of parchment, smiling. "I'm looking forward to it. Have a lovely summer, James."

There was a spring in James' step as he wheeled his trunk towards his parents, who were seated on a bench further down the platform. He waved at them, and his mum rose with difficulty, grasping his father's arm for support.

James' heart twinged painfully; though his parents looked elated to see him, it was clear that neither had fully recovered from their bout with dragonpox. His father limped towards him, leaning heavily on a cane. When he embraced James, his arms were as strong as ever.

Dragonpox and Dark Lords be damned, thought James as he hugged his father. At that moment, he felt very firmly that everything would be alright. Lily Evans was going to send him an owl, and he was going home.

Severus pressed his forehead against the window of the empty train compartment, staring at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. His eyes glazed over as he took in the usual end-of-year hustle and bustle, the parents reuniting with children, the students bidding each other tearful, exaggerated goodbyes, as though it would be years rather than months before they saw each other again, the Aurors shepherding people along the platform…

His vision sharpened into focus. There.

There they were. Lily Evans and James Potter were conversing earnestly, heedless of the crowd flowing past them, like a stone in the midst of a river.

What were they talking about? He wished he could read lips. He pressed his forehead harder against the glass, as if that would somehow help his hearing.

Lily was so focused on James. Her eyes — even at this distance, he could see their brilliant emerald colour — her eyes never wandered from his face. She ogled him like he had a set of detailed Potions instructions written across his forehead that she needed to memorize.

At that moment, Severus hated James Potter more than he'd ever hated anyone. His heart blazed with anger, then crumbled into ash. Lily had never looked at Severus like that, and likely never would.

"Pathetic."

He whirled around. Bellatrix Black was standing in the carriage doorway, tall and pale, her face wreathed by a mass of dark, tangled hair.

"Surprise," she said, waggling a finger at him. "Are you happy to see me?"

"Thrilled," said Severus dryly. "And a bit perplexed. I was under the impression that Death Eaters are not welcome aboard the Hogwarts Express."

Bellatrix picked a bit of dirt from under her long fingernails. "A few of the Aurors are Imperiused. Have been for months, now. I'll let you guess which ones." She grinned, though the act seemed to stretch the skin on her face in odd ways.

Severus was not in the mood for games. "Why are you here?"

"Because I'm disappointed in you." She stepped towards him, and the interior of the compartment grew inexplicably dark. It was as though the lantern light was swallowed by her mere presence, her black robes and wild hair.

Severus blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "You're here because of what happened with Sally, I assume."

"I'm here because of mistakes you made," she hissed.

"Me? It was Regulus who got cold feet, he went behind our backs to hide Sally away —"

Her laugh was shrill and mirthless. "Wrong again, Severus! Didn't it ever occur to you that Regulus had help?"

Just like that, the pieces clicked into place. "You knew," said Severus flatly. "You were in on it the entire time."

"Of course I was," said Bellatrix. "My pathetic little cousin has always been obedient to a fault; I doubt he uses the toilet without asking his mummy and daddy for permission. He would never have hidden Sally on his own initiative."

"Is that so? Because I was privy to his memories, and —"

"You were wrong, Severus!" shrieked Bellatrix, and the anger in her voice caused the lanterns in the corridor to flicker. "Blinded by your own arrogance! Sally Dearborn walks free because of YOU!"

Severus' heartbeat quickened; he felt as though he were a rabbit that had just stepped into a trap. "I can explain."

"Your words are worthless," she spat. "Do you think the Dark Lord cares to hear your snivelling excuses when you are the reason his plans have been foiled? If not for you, he would have granted Sally the highest of honours — her death was to propel him to ever-higher summits of greatness, heights that no other mortal has dared to reach…"

Severus' palms were clammy. "Did Regulus know of that plan?"

"Why do you care?" she retorted. "Perhaps he did, and he accepted Sally's sacrifice as necessary. Or perhaps I hid it from him, because too much information can be dangerous, and he already knew more than enough to play his part well… at least until you came along," she added with a snarl.

Bellatrix was itching to punish Severus: that much was clear. He wished she would stop beating around the bush and do it already. A detached voice in the back of his mind wondered which punishment she would choose. Was he about to undergo the Cruciatus Curse, and suffer pain beyond his wildest imagining, or would she opt for another, more heinous punishment? At least the pain of the Cruciatus Curse was temporary; he could think of a dozen other curses whose effects would linger.

Bellatrix must have noticed that his mind was elsewhere, because she cocked her head, confused. "Aren't you afraid, little Severus?"

Severus let his thoughts slide beneath the placid barriers of Occlumency. "Why should I be?" he said. "You are here to reprimand me, perhaps even torture me; either way, the outlook is unpleasant. But I expect my punishment to be brief — you will be forced to leave soon, after all, when the Aurors perform a last check of the train — and I doubt you will cause me permanent harm."

Bella's mouth stretched into a malevolent smile; her square, straight teeth had gone slightly yellow. "Do you think I'm going to curse you, little Severus?"

"I expect nothing less, considering your proficiency in the Dark Arts."

Bella gave this some thought, tapping her wand against her chin. "True. Lucius asked me not to, you know, but you do have a point. Crucio!"

Blinding pain ripped through Severus' body, overwhelming his senses — it was pain beyond pain, every one of his nerves had been set afire and he was burning, burning — he fell to the floor, his limbs contorting involuntarily — a scream tore from his mouth, filling the carriage —

The pain stopped as quickly as it had started. Bella had lifted her wand. "You'll attract the Aurors, squealing like that," she said with a pout.

Severus rose from the floor, gritting his teeth. "My… apologies," he panted.

"I hope you've learned your lesson," said Bella, sticking her wand in her hair. "No more sabotaging your fellow Death Eaters, lest the Dark Lord decide you are more useful to him as a corpse. He's got an army of Inferi to build, you know…"

"Charming," said Severus. "Though Regulus and I are not yet Death Eaters."

"And a chicken's egg is not yet a basilisk," said Bella dismissively. "Poor Regulus is in for a punishment of his own, you know."

"Why? If you approve of what he did…"

"Oh, it isn't related to Sally Dearborn," said Bella. "His parents caught wind of the fact that his elder brother's been tampering with their accounts. Supplying gold to the other side, you know. That was the straw that broke the Erumpent's back, so to speak… My aunt and uncle have finally realized that Sirius is more trouble than he's worth. They've decided to make Regulus the sole heir to the House of Black."

Severus imagined Regulus as an adult, humourless and restrained, seated in an exquisitely furnished study with house-elves at his beck and call. He would be the polished heir that every pure-blooded family dreamed of having.

"A wise decision by the Blacks," said Severus. "Though I admit I fail to see the punishment here."

"Oh, I have no doubt baby Regulus will be up for the task," said Bella. "He'll be the proper, Death Eater son that they've always dreamed of having. But I can't imagine he'll like it."

A scuttling, scraping noise came from the corridor. It sounded like an enormous spider was scurrying towards them.

"The trolley witch," said Bella, pulling her wand out of her hair. "Time for me to take my leave, then."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "The Dark Lord's right hand, Bellatrix Black, frightened of the trolley witch?"

"So should you be, if you knew what she was," snapped Bella.

Outside the compartment, long, claw-like fingers scraped against the door, rattling the handle. Severus gulped and pulled his battered trunk from the luggage rack. "I assume you'll be in touch."

"If I can be bothered," said Bella. "If you don't disappoint me again. Behave over the summer, and the Dark Lord might have a task for you when you return to Hogwarts… If he can be convinced that those who Follow him at Hogwarts are more than a gang of foolish schoolchildren…"

She spun on her heel, but instead of disappearing with a crack, her body dissolved into a cloud of thick black smoke that filled the compartment. The acrid smell of the smoke made Severus cough, and he forced open a window, eyes watering. By the time he stepped into the corridor, the smoke had dissipated, and the trolley witch, whatever she was, was nowhere to be seen. The only proof that Bellatrix Black had ever been aboard the Hogwarts Express was the lingering stench of death and decay.

Sirius scanned Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, looking for Kreacher, but the diminutive house-elf was impossible to find amidst the crush of students, Aurors, and wizarding families. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the crowded platform — an elderly wizard collided with his back, which he ignored — and stepped atop his trunk, craning his neck to see above the heads of the crowd.

A bit of movement at the far end of the platform caught his eye. Regulus, he thought. His brother was stepping through the barrier to King's Cross, Kreacher in tow.

Sirius sprinted down the platform and hurtled through the barrier with such speed that a pair of Muggles on the other side gasped, startled at his sudden presence. Regulus and Kreacher were already several yards away and walking at a brisk pace, apparently unaware that they'd forgotten him.

"Leaving without me?" called Sirius, jogging towards them.

Regulus slowed, but Kreacher continued to march determinedly forward, although surely Sirius' voice had reached his large, batlike ears. When it became clear that Regulus was no longer following him, Kreacher, too, turned around reluctantly.

"Come along, Master," croaked Kreacher, tugging at the hem of Regulus' robes. "Master ought to hurry home, he needn't talk to his brother, …"

"Oh, shut up, Kreacher," snapped Sirius, which earned him some alarmed looks from the Muggle passersby. Muggles couldn't see house-elves, so they probably thought he was picking a quarrel with Regulus.

"Master Sirius is cruel to poor Kreacher," said the house-elf, clinging to Regulus' robes. "But Kreacher turns the other cheek, oh yes, Kreacher is used to such treatment, Kreacher is patient and meek…"

"Yeah, real patient, leaving me on the platform like that," said Sirius. "It wouldn't have killed you to wait two more minutes for me, would it?"

"Sirius…" said Regulus.

"It's fine," said Sirius. He gave the worried-looking Muggles a cheery wave. "Go home without me, I don't care. I've got my Apparition license now, so I'll see you at Grimmauld Place."

"Master Sirius is not welcome at Grimmauld Place!" hissed Kreacher. Before Sirius could respond, the house-elf grabbed Regulus' arm and dragged him behind the barrier dividing platforms three and four, where they vanished with a soft pop.

Sirius stared at the spot where they'd been. Not welcome? he thought. Well, to say he'd ever been welcome at home was a bit of a stretch. His parents tolerated his presence, at best.

Something dark and hot began to burn in his stomach. He'd told Kreacher to shut up, but Kreacher had continued to speak. House-elves couldn't disobey a direct order from their masters. Unless…

Unless Kreacher no longer considered Sirius his master.

They wouldn't dare, thought Sirius, although the fire in his chest burned hotter and angrier than ever. His parents couldn't have disowned him, not after all the effort he'd gone through to win their trust. They hadn't blasted him off the tapestry. He would have felt something if they had. Wouldn't he?

Sirius spun on his heel and reappeared on the front step of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

He tried the handle, which was locked. His heart began to pound a furious rhythm, his suspicions confirmed. The door had never been locked in all seventeen years that he'd lived at Grimmauld Place. It always opened for a Black.

"OPEN UP!" he roared. He beat his fist against the door, impervious to the splinters that hid beneath the peeling paint.

The door swung open. Walburga Black stared disdainfully at him, as though she'd expected him to make a scene and was disgusted to have been proved right.

"You disowned me?" His fists were clenched so tight it might have hurt if he hadn't been so enraged.

"You left us no choice," she replied coolly.

"No choice? No choice? But I didn't — why?"

Walburga sniffed. "You thought you were so clever, tampering with your father's accounts. Well. Enough is enough."

It was as if she'd thrown a bucket of water atop the fire burning in his chest. Sirius stared at her, incredulous. "The accounts? That's it?" It seemed like such a small offence, given everything else he'd done over the years.

Walburga allowed herself a small, triumphant smile at his bewilderment. "You only have yourself to blame," she said. "We gave you chance after chance — far more than most parents — but even we have our limits. Enough."

"You're bluffing," said Sirius. "You don't have it in you. All those letters you sent me, those months you spent begging me to come home — you haven't disowned me. I'm your son."

At last her composure broke; her voice came out as a hiss. "You are no son of mine!"

There was a beat. Sirius stared at his mother, disbelieving. "You're lying," he said. "I can prove it. KREACHER!"

But the house-elf didn't come.

"Kreacher," said Sirius again, with less certainty.

"Your own father blasted you off the tapestry," said Walburga savagely. "He was happy to do it, he'd wanted to for years — he wondered why we didn't do it sooner, in fact…"

"Well, the joke's on you, then, if he did," said Sirius. "You always said it was painful to be removed from the family. That it burned. But I don't feel a single fucking thing."

Walburga barely flinched at the Muggle language. "Further proof that you were never a Black," she scoffed. "Now get out of my sight, or your father will call the Aurors to remove you from the property."

"Gladly," snarled Sirius, and he stomped furiously down the steps. At the front gate, he turned, taking in number twelve for the last time, that dour house that had done its best to suffocate him. He hated it all, from the serpentine door knocker to the grimy walls. His mother watched him from the doorway;, she lifted her chin imperiously, a satisfied smile on her face. She'd won, and she knew it.

Something in an upper window caught Sirius' eye, and he spotted Regulus, watching him from the second floor.

"REG!" bellowed Sirius, and Regulus vanished from the window, though Sirius knew he was still there, listening. "HAPPY NOW, ARE YOU?" He picked up a stone from the garden and hurled it at the window; there was a satisfying smash as the rock shattered the glass.

"You'll be a proper Death Eater, mark my words," continued Sirius conversationally, as though his brother were right next to him instead of cowering under a windowsill several storeys up. "Never dared to dream of a different path, did you? And now you haven't got another. Here's hoping you get murdered."

And he turned on his heel and strode away from the Dark and dreadful house that he used to call home.

He'd gotten as far as the park across the street when he stopped abruptly. Somebody was sitting in one of the swings, twisting back and forth. She had deep brown skin and fluffy hair, and there was no cloud of smoke to obscure her face this time —

"Family quarrel?" asked Dorcas Meadowes with a knowing look.

"How did you —"

"A little birdie told me," said Dorcas. She gestured to the swing beside her, and he sat.

After a moment, she spoke. "You're free now. How does it feel?"

"I dunno," said Sirius. "It feels the same, honestly. I'm finding it hard to believe."

"Let's not talk about them anymore," said Dorcas. "They aren't worth your time, never have been. And besides — we've better things to do."

He looked at her sideways. "Such as?"

She pulled out a carton of cigarettes and opened the top. One cigarette in particular stuck out from the rest. She tilted the carton towards him.

"Those are your Portkeys," said Sirius. "Where are we going?"

Dorcas grinned, flashing the gap between her front teeth at him. "You'll find out."

"Well, it can't be worse than here," said Sirius, and he pulled out the cigarette that was taller than the rest.

"Nowhere's worse than here," said Dorcas, pinching the other end of the cigarette between her fingers. "Things are going to get better for you, Sirius. This is only the start. Now let's go — Uncle Alphard's got work for you to do."

A/N: That's it, that's the end of year 6! If you've enjoyed the story, I'd love to hear what's been your favourite part so far :) A special, massive thanks to those of you who regularly read and comment - our discussions always make my day! You are all the real heroes of this fic.

Re: year 7, it's still a work in progress. I don't like to post until I've got the rough draft of the entire year completed, so it will be a while before I update again! But I promise to keep my tumblr updated with my progress. Hopefully the wait isn't too miserable :)