Author's Note: Don't own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

This is my strange take on the Marauder era. I started writing this fic about a year or so before OoP came out, so it is definitely from that particular era. So, sorry if parts of the fic are utterly cliche now, but they weren't when I started this fic!

This fic will make absolutely no sense if you haven't read Part 1. So, if you haven't already, go check it out, 'k? The Prologue's fun, while you're at it.

The Prequels make sense by themselves, but I think that it'd probably be better to go to my author page, start with my first fic, my Year 5 one, then work your way back through the prequels. That's what several of my readers tell me is the easiest way to understand everything off the bat is. But, if you like a little mystery, read on! All will most definitely be revealed...

Sorry if Parts 3 & 4 aren't posted up here or finished when you get to them; I'm working backwards from my Year 5. So eventually, I guess you'll end up there with unanswered questions!

I'm a traditional shipper, but I really enjoy putting strange twists on everything. And the ships I hate, I make it so the characters are related & therefore hooking up would be incest & morally wrong. I do add in a lot of OC's, because I happen to think they're fun. My main OC, Isabelle, is a type of anti-Mary Sue. If she had her way, she so would be. But where would the fun be in that?

Also, I do admit to using way too much music in my fics. Not songfic, but when a song is so perfect for the scene, who am I to resist?

Please don't forget the lovely Review button at the bottom of your screen...

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Chapter 1

Isabelle took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and walked down the train aisle to find an empty compartment. As she walked down the aisle, she heard various people talking and laughing. Suddenly, she felt very lonely. Tears began to fill her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. After all, she had to grow up sometime, and today was just as good a day as any to start.

"Excuse me? Are you Isabelle Evans?" a young female voice called out. She whipped around. Two girls were sprawled out lazily, looking at her with curious eyes.

"Y-yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

"Ha! Told you Syd. You owe me five knuts," she girl exclaimed joyously.

"It's not my fault she looks different from in the paper," the other girl pouted.

"She doesn't look different. You're just blind."

The other girl apparently didn't like that comment very much, because a loud argument broke out. Isabelle used that as her cue to leave, and slowly began backing out of the compartment.

"Hey – don't leave. Come join us for a while."

Isabelle swallowed nervously, and sat down gingerly on the bench, looking at the two girls wide-eyed.

"Ok, I'm Allison Lee, but you can call me Ali. All my friends do. And that git over there," she pointed across the compartment, "is Sydney Robinson. She hates to be called Syd, so I always do."

"Nice to meet both of you," she replied politely. "Um, how did you know who I was?"

"The Daily Prophet, of course. You're always in the Society pages," Sydney explained, as if this was completely obvious.

"Society pages? What are those?"

Ali and Sydney looked at each other in complete disbelief. Ali reached into her knapsack and pulled out today's copy of the Daily Prophet, and turned to the middle of the paper. At the top of the page was a picture of Lily and James, walking down what looked like Diagon Alley.

"What's Lily doing in the paper?"

"Isabelle, dear," Ali said smoothly, "You sister only married the second richest, most eligible bachelor in all of England. The Potters are like royalty in the wizarding world. Anything they do, even going to a certain restaurant, makes the paper."

Dazed, Isabelle limply leaned back in her seat. She had no idea her sister or James was famous.

"I guess that makes Regina famous, too," she mused.

"Are you kidding? Everybody who's anybody wears her designs," Sydney said.

Isabelle looked down at her robes. "Oh."

"Did she make your school uniforms?" Ali asked, in awe.

"Well, yeah. She designs all my clothes. It's hard for me to find clothes that fit right because I'm so tall for my age."

"That's true, but still. Your wardrobe must be worth at least half a million Galleons," Ali breathed. Isabelle had no concept of the value of money, so she just shrugged.

"Anyway," Sydney said through a mouthful of toffee, "what house do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor, I hope. Hufflepuff guys are too dull, Ravenclaw guys are too nerdy and Slytherin guys are too crafty and would probably cheat on a girl. At least, that's what my sister Elisa told me, and she's a Gryffindor, so she would know," Ali said with great importance.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Is everything about guys?"

"Of course," she replied with a sly smile. "What about you, Isabelle?"

"Well, Sirius told me before I left that he'd disown me if I became a Slytherin, so anything but that."

"Sirius Black?" Sydney's eyes were huge.

Isabelle nodded. Apparently he was famous, too, she thought crossly. Why had no one warned her of this before she left for school?

"How do you know him?" Sydney pressed.

"He's my guardian."

"Oh, really?" Ali and Sydney shared a look.

"Really. Why?"

"Only because he is the hottest wizard in existence, and the richest. And, single too," Ali mused.

"Not for long," Isabelle sighed, her eyes clouding over. "He's dating Regina."

Ali and Sydney could barely contain themselves. They had their very own celebrity friend, who was full of interesting information not in the papers. Of all the luck in the world, they managed to meet her first. Three girls sauntered into the compartment. Sydney looked up, and pursed her lips.

"I thought I smelled a foul stench," she sneered.

"Very witty, Robinson. You must be Isabelle Evans," the girl in front said. "I'm Tabitha Broomstick."

"Then get on it, and fly away," Ali said, pointing at the door.

"Anyway, you really shouldn't hang around these sorts of people," Tabitha continued.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "And I suppose you know the types of people I should associate with?"

"Sure. Us."

"No thank you," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with syrupy sarcasm. "I like these people just fine."

"Suit yourself, Evans," Tabitha spat. "But, you better be watching your back."

"Oooh, scary," Isabelle said in mock fear, laughing as she huffed out of the compartment, followed by her three friends.

"Did you see the look on her face? She looked like she kissed a goblin!" Ali said, laughing hysterically.

"Tabitha is such a prat," Sydney explained. "She, Ali and I became mortal enemies in grade school. I think it started when we put a skunk in her lunch box when we were seven. She opened it up and it sprayed her right in the face. The whole class almost died laughing."

"We got detention for two months, but it was worth it."

Ali launched into a detailed description of all the pranks they pulled throughout grade school. By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade, Isabelle's sides hurt. Hogwarts might be fun after all, she decided, stepping off the train with her new friends.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a deep voice boomed over the crowd.

Isabelle looked up – way up – and saw an enormous man towering over her. His huge, hairy face cracked into a smile, and he put his massive hand on her shoulder.

"Well, hello, there. Yeh mus' be Lily Evans' little sister." She nodded. "Ah, good – 'fraid I wouldn' recognize yeh, but yeh got yer sister's eyes, just like Sirius said. Told me to look after yeh, he did. Nice to meet yeh. Call me Hagrid."

"Nice to meet you, Hagrid," she said, smiling instantly when he mentioned Sirius. She missed him so much already, and couldn't wait to get to her dorm so that she could write him a letter.

"Mind yer step now, and hurry to the boats. Wouldn' want to miss the Sortin' Ceremony," Hagrid warned. She gulped nervously, and hurried to the landing.

"Wow," Sydney said, pointing.

The night sky illuminated the Hogwarts castle with its turrets and tall towers that seemed to touch the stars; they were so tall. Isabelle was amazed. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life. It looked like a castle out of one of her fairy tale books. She followed Sydney and Ali into a small boat.

They chatted nervously as the boats crossed the lake, especially when the giant squid surfaced a few feet from the left side of the boat. Dragging their feet a little, they walked across the school grounds and up the stairs. A tall, young witch in royal blue robes met them at the front door and led them through the entrance hall, stopping at the doorway of the Great Hall.

"Good evening students and welcome to Hogwarts," she said crisply. "I am Professor McGonagall, the new Transfiguration professor at the school. The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few minutes. Please wait here until I return for you."

She disappeared into the Great Hall, and beckoned them to come inside about fifteen minutes later. Isabelle's heart pounded in her chest as they walked into the Great Hall, marveling at the enchanted ceiling. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the house ghosts appeared, hovering over their respective tables. Trying not to faint, she attempted to focus on the sorting hat's song, but barely heard a word. Professor McGonagall then unrolled a large sheet of parchment, and stood next to the hat.

"When I call your name, please come forward and put on the hat. You will then sit on the stool and be sorted," she said. "Adams, Emily!"

A petite brunette girl with wild, curly hair timidly put on the hat, and sat down on the stool. After a moment of silence the hat yelled, "Ravenclaw!"

It's just a hat, it's just a hat, Isabelle told herself over and over, as Professor McGonagall quickly went down the list.

"Broomstick, Tabitha!"

"Slytherin!" the hat decided without hesitation.

"Told you she was a catty pain," Ali whispered in her ear. Isabelle smiled, in spite of herself.

"Donaldson, Ian!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Evans, Isabelle!"

With heavy feet, she walked up to the stool and plopped the hat on her head. The brim flopped over her eyes as she sat nervously on the stool.

"Hmmm, another Evans. If only you were as easy to place as your sister. A brave one she is, as are you. Plenty of courage to face hard times. Ah, but I see stronger traits in you. There's unwavering loyalty. And the most brilliant mind I've sat on in many years. But, most of all, I see ambition. You desire one thing above all else, and will stop at nothing to get it. Or him, shall I say," the hat whispered cattily in her ear. Isabelle squirmed; how did the hat know that? "What house shall I put you in…perhaps Slytherin would help your little dream?"

"If you were really so all-knowing, Mr. Sorting Hat, you'd know that Slytherin would kill my 'little dream', as you put it. Let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you don't put me in Gryffindor like the rest of my family, I will rip you into tiny pieces and throw them into the fire," she whispered softly.

"Spoken like a true Slytherin, my dear girl," the hat cackled. "However, I shall not test you anymore – Gryffindor!"

She triumphantly removed the hat from her head, and sat down at the Gryffindor table. After a minute, she shifted uncomfortably on the bench as she realized everyone at the table was staring at her, whispering. All except for a freckle-faced boy with flaming red hair, who she could tell wasn't really impressed that she was rich or famous. Relieved, she smiled across the table gratefully at him. His ears turned a vivid shade of red that nearly matched his hair, and he suddenly became very interested in the Sorting Ceremony.

Isabelle yawned and turned towards the rapidly shortening line of first-years waiting to be sorted. After enjoying bantering with her, the Sorting Hat became bored, and spent little time making its decision. She craned her head as Ali sat on the stool.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted. Isabelle could've sworn the hat winked at her. Ali rushed over and sat down with a flourish.

"See, what did I tell you? All the cute guys are in this house. Cross your fingers for Syd – it would be such a shame to split us up," she whispered, clutching Isabelle's arm.

"Norris, Rebecca!" Professor McGonagall barked.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Patil, Andrew!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Oh, now he's a cutie. Maybe Ravenclaws aren't so bad, after all."

"Ali!"

"What?" She shrugged innocently.

"Robinson, Sydney!" Isabelle and Ali held their breath as the hat made its decision.

"Gryffindor!"

They sighed happily as Sydney sat down beside Isabelle, and whispered though the rest of the Ceremony until Professor Dumbledore stood to give the welcoming speech.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he bellowed. "Before we begin the banquet, I would like to make a few announcements. First, please kindly remember that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits to all students. Also, we have a new Transfiguration professor this year – Professor McGonagall. Thank you!"

He sat down, and piles of food appeared on the tables. Isabelle's stomach grumbled loudly. It seemed like an eternity since she had breakfast in Dover that morning. Home. Her face fell, and she sadly reached for a piece of baked chicken and some steamed broccoli.

"Of all the things on this table, you pick something healthy?" Sydney teased through a mouthful of chicken fried steak.

"I'm a dancer," she replied in a huff, defending herself. "I have to stay on a very strict diet."

"You're the one who's taking lessons from the Royal Ballet School?" Ali breathed.

She nodded. "James offered to pay for them so I could come here."

"Must be nice," Sydney said airily.

Isabelle's face stung as she quickly finished her dinner. She followed the rest of the Gryffindors through the maze of hallways, stopping abruptly in front of a large portrait. This must be the Fat Lady, she thought, as the prefect turned to speak.

"The password is 'Slytherin stinks'," she said, as the first-years giggled.

The portrait swung open, revealing the enormous common room. The first-years trudged upstairs, exhausted. They plopped down on their four-post beds for a minute before changing for bed. Everyone fell asleep quickly, except Isabelle. She had never spent a night away from home before, and was feeling very lonely.

After tossing and turning for an hour, she flung the covers aside and quietly dressed. She rummaged around in her trunk before finding James' invisibility cloak in the bottom right-hand corner. He gave it to her a couple of days ago, and told her that he hoped she would find as much use for it as he did when he was at Hogwarts.

She tiptoed down the dormitory stairs and into the hallway. The castle was silent, dark and slightly foreboding. Shrugging off a sudden rush of nervousness, she wound through the hallways until she reached the Astronomy tower. She walked into the cool night air, and climbed to the highest point of the tower, looking at the stars. Sirius' words from the night before flooded her mind.

"Whenever you get sad or lonely, look up at the sky, and remember that I'm always close to you, just like the star, even if I seem far away. And just because it's daylight doesn't mean that the star isn't there."

"Oh, Sirius, I miss you so much," she whispered, beginning to cry. She buried her head in her arms, bawling like she hadn't done in years.

-----

"Pink elephant," Isabelle whispered to the Fat Lady, and cracked the portrait open.

Two Slytherin students overheard a couple of first-years laughing about the password about a month ago during Potions class. Professor Brock, the head of the Slytherin house, complained to Professor McGonagall immediately. The new professor took her duties as the head of Gryffindor house quite seriously, as the prefects learned during their week of detention for insulting another house.

As a result, the war between the two houses escalated significantly. For her part, Isabelle took great pleasure in pulling any prank she could on Tabitha and her git friends. She owled Sirius, James and Remus for more ideas, which were kept safely hidden under a floorboard in her dormitory.

Her eyes swept the common room. Satisfied that she was alone, she crept inside. Ever since her first night at Hogwarts, she snuck to the Astronomy tower late at night to think. It became part of her routine to look at the stars, and recount the day's events in her head. Sometimes she took a quill and parchment with her, and wrote letters to Sirius.

Other nights, like tonight, she simply stared at the night sky and cried out of sheer loneliness and frustration. She threw herself into an armchair by the fire, and pushed back the invisibility cloak from her face, shaking her hair loose.

Hidden from Isabelle's view at a tall oak table sat a stunned red-haired boy. Bill Weasley stared at her, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Either she was a very young ghost, or managed somehow to find an invisibility cloak. Hoping for the latter, he watched her sigh loudly, and cry as she stared into the fire.

Bill was confused; Isabelle Evans was easily the most popular girl in the Gryffindor house, and probably the entire school. The first-year girl managed to endear herself to everyone she met, except for the Slytherins, he thought with a small smile. And, she was at the top of her class in all subjects. What could she possibly have to be upset about?

Shaking his head, he returned to his Potions homework. Unlike most subjects, Potions didn't come very easily to him, and he had to spend a great deal of time on his homework. He dipped his quill into the inkwell absentmindedly, and accidentally knocked everything into the floor with a loud thud. Isabelle jumped and turned around with big, red-rimmed eyes. She quickly put the hood back up on the cloak.

"Uh, I already saw you, so there's no reason to hide. What's going on, anyway?" Bill asked.

"Leave me alone," came the clear reply from the chair.

"Well, the way I'm thinking, you have two options here. One, you can run off, in which case I'll be forced to tell Professor McGonagall that you have an Invisibility Cloak. Which we both know is strictly prohibited. Or, you can tell me what's wrong and maybe I can help you."

"That's blackmail."

Bill smiled. Having a conversation with the thin air was bizarre. "Sorry."

Isabelle huffed, whipped the cloak off her body, and stormed to the table where he was seated. She ripped a chair out from underneath the table, and flung herself down.

"You're a second-year – Bill Weasley, right?" He nodded. "What do you want with me?"

"Nothing other than to offer a shoulder to cry on. You look like you need it."

He squirmed uncomfortably as her green eyes bore into him with a piercing stare. After a minute, she leaned back in her chair.

"Thank you," she said a little too politely. "I'm simply having a bad day, that's all."

"I could tell."

Isabelle bit her lip. Unlike everyone else, he didn't seem to have some hidden agenda for talking to her. And, she could really use a friend – a real friend, someone she could talk to about things other than boys and clothes.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Potions. I need to finish this problem set by tomorrow. I would've finished it earlier, but a group of us snuck to the Slytherin common room and covered everything in maple syrup."

"You're kidding?" He shook his head no. "That's fabulous! How did you know where their dorm is?"

"Polyjuice potion. Rick Thompson stole one of Luke Rodgers' pieces of hair, and snuck into the dorm as Luke. So, now we can attack the Slytherins whenever we want," he whispered with an evil grin.

"And I thought you were, well, kind of boring," Isabelle said guiltily. Bill pretended to be hurt. "You have to admit that you have this nerd look going on."

He looked down at his spotlessly clean robes, and at his reflection in the perfectly polished table. "No, it's my disguise. Just call me Clark Kent."

"You know about Superman?" she asked, amazed.

"Yes," he replied, rolling his eyes. "My dad's obsessed, and I mean obsessed, with anything to do with Muggles. Drives my mum crazy."

"Ok, Superman – got a deal for you. I'll help you with your Potions homework if you let me in on your pranks."

Bill gave her a skeptical look. "But, you're only a first-year."

"Fine, don't take my help." She threw up her hands in defeat. "I'm only a genius at Potions, and just so happen to have an Invisibility Cloak. Which could be very useful…but, I know when I'm not wanted."

"Alright, you win," he laughed.

He passed his assignment across the table to Isabelle, who scanned it quickly and reached for the quill to jot down the answers. She then spent the next hour teaching Bill how to make simple cleaning potions. Not only did she find herself enjoying teaching, she was genuinely having fun for the first time since she came to Hogwarts.

-----

"And then, he passed me a note in Charms class," Ali gushed, spreading marmalade on a piece of toast.

Isabelle yawned, and tuned her out. She could barely keep her head off the table. Madame Bordeaux's lessons had become particularly grueling. When she went to London over Christmas holidays, the heads of the Royal Ballet School were incredibly impressed with her progress, especially compared with other students her age. As a result, Mme. Bordeaux was consumed with training the next great dancer.

The daily owl post flew through the windows, causing their usual loud racket. A letter landed softly in front of her. She sleepily flipped it over, and squealed excitedly, ripping open the envelope.

"What's with her?" Ali asked, slightly put off for being interrupted.

"Bet it's Sirius Black," Sydney whispered. "She's been whining for a week and a half that she hasn't heard from him lately."

"Do you remember when he picked her up for Christmas holidays?"

"Uh-huh."

The two girls looked at each other and sighed. They had quite a crush on him, although they didn't dare mention it to Isabelle. She was incredibly protective of him, and wouldn't be too happy to hear her friends talk about him that way.

"Who is it?" Sydney inquired, winking at Ali.

"Sirius," she answered without looking up from the parchment. "He's in Milan for the spring with Gina, who's there for the fashion shows. Apparently her show is getting the best reviews of any of the designers."

Her face suddenly turned ashen grey, and she dropped the parchment to the table like it was on fire.

"What is it?" Ali asked, concerned.

"They're getting married. He says that he's going to propose on Valentine's Day, which is also his birthday…anyway, that was last Tuesday. Please excuse me," she said, standing up from the table and running out of the Great Hall.

She blindly ran out the castle doors, into the grounds. Ignoring the chilly morning air, she dashed to the edge of the lakeshore and collapsed to the ground. Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to cry as she looked out onto the water. It wasn't exactly her fort back home, but there was something soothing about the gently lapping waves and crystalline blue water.

There's no reason to be upset, she told herself over and over. Sirius was bound to get married sometime. She just didn't expect it to be so soon. And, if he did have to marry, at least it was to someone she liked. Somehow, that was little consolation, and she found herself becoming increasingly depressed. A minute later, Bill quietly walked up and sat down beside her.

"What do you want, Superman?" she asked, dejected.

"Just to bring you your breakfast. You left it in the Great Hall," he replied, passing her a half-eaten apple wrapped in a napkin.

"Thanks," she replied, taking a bite and chewing it angrily. "Why am I so upset? This is ridiculous."

"It's just a change, that's all."

"A huge, massive change. I'm not sure I like this at all, and I don't know why."

"You know what would cheer you up?"

"What?" Nothing at this point, she thought gloomily.

"A nice, ingenious prank. We've been way too nice to the Slytherins lately. They'll think we've gotten soft."

An evil smile spread over her face. "Never. Sirius did tell me some more stuff he and James used to pull in his letter. You know, in between saying he's proud of my dancing and telling me he's getting married. Anyway, they're very clever pranks, if I do say so myself," she said proudly.

"Really. Do tell," Bill smirked, standing up to head to class.

Isabelle followed suit, brushing leaves and dirt off her robes. She launched into a detailed description of various practical jokes on the way back to the castle. They laughed hysterically while planning their pranks, causing Isabelle almost to forget that she was upset at Sirius. Almost.

-----

Stirring his tea groggily, Severus Snape opened the Daily Prophet and skimmed the headlines. A small smile played at his lips as he read about the Ministry's latest failures at preventing the Dark Lord's attacks on Muggles in Bristol. Even if he didn't believe in Lord Voldemort's cause, which he didn't, it was worth it just to irritate Sirius Black and his high and mighty Ministry friends.

Time had only increased his hatred of Sirius. Especially since the Society pages dripped with news of his relationship with Regina. Almost on a daily basis, there was an article or a picture of them in Milan, eating at a restaurant, or at one of her fashion shows.

It fueled Severus' rage at Sirius, although he couldn't bring himself to be angry at Regina. She was tricked and deceived by Black, which wasn't her fault. Why wouldn't she trust her childhood friend to have her best interests at heart? Because, Severus answered himself, the selfish git couldn't stand the idea of her choosing to make a life with a man that wasn't him.

It wasn't fair – Black had everything. The only good thing Severus had in his life, perfect Sirius Black took that away, too. In an incredibly ill humor, he flipped to the Society pages, dropping them immediately as if the paper was on fire. His heart broke as he re-read the brief article.

Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Potter of London proudly announce the engagement of their daughter, Regina Victoria, to Sirius Black, son of William Black and the late Juliana Piedra Delgado de Black of London. Ms. Potter, a graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as Fleur de Paris Design Institute in New York City, is the owner and principal designer of Avalon Designs, headquartered in London and Milan. Mr. Black, also a graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is the Deputy Minister of the Intelligence Division of the Ministry of Magic in London. A summer wedding is planned.

"Damn it!" Severus violently threw the paper across the room, nearly hitting Lord Voldemort as he walked through the doorway.

"Bad news?" the Dark Lord cackled, narrowing his eyes. Part two of his plan was now complete, with the upcoming marriage between the Potter girl and Sirius Black. Now, it was time to put the next part of his plan in motion.

"Slightly," he roared in response.

Voldemort leaned over and picked up the paper, opening it to the Society pages. "Proudly announces the engagement, huh? Pity the Potters never knew about their darling daughter's first engagement. Or marriage."

He struck a nerve, and smiled internally as Severus' facial muscles tightened in fury. "Pity, indeed," the Dark Lord continued. "Ah, but didn't Mr. Black benefit from your loss. After all you went through for your wife, excuse me, ex-wife, and she leaves you anyway. What a shame."

"Indeed," he replied through clenched teeth.

"Interesting that this article appears in the paper. I actually came to talk to you about your in-laws."

"What about them?"

"Just general information about them."

Until now, Severus refused to discuss his in-laws, trying to protect Regina as much as possible. But, Sirius' words echoed in his head – "She's your wife, and your responsibility." Well, if he wants it to be like that, there was no need for him to bother with protecting her. Let Sirius deal with what happens because he was too inept to stop it, Severus decided.

"What do you want to know?"

Voldemort smiled internally. This was really all too easy.

-----

A small commotion at the front of the classroom caused Isabelle to look up from her parchment, where she was describing how to transfigure a snail into a wallet. Why anyone would want a wallet made from a snail, she didn't know. Professor McGonagall was involved in a heated argument with the secretary. After a minute, the Professor huffed down the aisle and stopped directly in front of her.

"You seem to have a visitor, Miss Evans. Please take your books and report to the Entrance Hall," she said, angry that her class was disturbed. The students' attention spans were small enough without wondering why a student would be called out of class.

Puzzled, Isabelle collected her things and hurried to the Entrance Hall, stopping suddenly. Her jaw clenched.

"Hi, there," Sirius said hesitatingly.

"Hi." She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want? I'm supposed to be in class right now."

He blinked. He expected her to be a little upset with him, maybe, but not this angry. She looked like she could explode any minute. "Which class?"

"Transfiguration, which happens to be my worst class. I'll probably be hopelessly behind now."

"Well, it was my best subject, so I can help you with whatever you missed," he said helpfully.

"I don't want your help. In fact, I don't want to be around you at all. Please excuse me; I need to get back to my essay."

Sirius watched, dumfounded, as Isabelle turned on her heel and marched down the hallway, head held high.

She walked back into the classroom and sat down quietly in her seat. One fat tear splattered her essay, and she wiped it off the parchment roughly. Ali looked at her curiously, but she refused to meet her eyes. Instead, she tried to figure out why Sirius would visit her at school. After thinking for a minute, she pushed him out of her mind and focused on snails, barely hearing the bell sound the end of class.

Still stewing, she gathered her books together and followed the class into the hallway, nearly running over Sydney.

"Whoa. Is that Sirius Black?" she asked in an awed tone.

"Unfortunately," Isabelle replied. He stood across the hallway, leaning against the wall, completely oblivious to the admiring looks from all the females who passed him on the way to their next class.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" Ali asked.

"Nope."

She tossed her hair and walked to the dungeons for Potions class. After class was over, she rolled her eyes at Sirius, who just wouldn't go away.

"All right, Isabelle. It's lunchtime, so can we talk now?" he asked patiently.

"No. Thank you for coming to visit, though. Do drop by again when it's convenient for you," she said sharply, attempting to mask the hurt in her voice.

"I came to talk to you as soon as I could. I couldn't leave Milan until now; Regina had her fashion show, and--"

"Well, as long as you have your priorities in order," she spat sarcastically, briskly walking towards the Great Hall.

"Isabelle, it's not like that," he called after her. She stopped and turned around.

"Then what's it like?" Her chin quivered.

"I just wanted you to find out from me before the media got a hold of the news. We're a little high-profile," he said apologetically.

"Yes, another thing that someone could've warned me about! Thanks a lot."

Sirius' head began to ache. He really wished she came with an instruction manual sometimes. "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I messed up big time, ok? Please have lunch with me – that's all I ask."

"Will you leave me alone after that?" she asked.

"Promise."

"Fine, you have fifteen minutes." She stormed into the Great Hall and flung herself down at the far end of the table.

"Isabelle?"

"What?"

"I really am sorry. You're completely right. I could've taken a day off to come talk to you before I proposed to Regina. It's a change for you, too, and I was stupid not to realize it. As for being famous, well, I wanted you to live as normal of a childhood as possible."

She snorted. "It was too late for that a long time ago, trust me."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't reply. That would make her angrier; he knew that from experience. They ate in silence for a few minutes, each lost in thought. All of a sudden, Professor Dumbledore rushed into the Great Hall, looking around furtively. Seeing Sirius and Isabelle, he quickly walked over to them, sitting down.

"Hello, Professor," Isabelle said politely. He gave her a feeble smile, and drew a breath.

"I'm not sure how to say this other than to just say it," he said cryptically. "The Dark Lord has attacked again."

"What? Where?" Sirius said, jumping up. He knew something was going on; all his intelligence reports pointed to Death Eater activity. But, his supervisor, McNair, disagreed with him and refused to present it to the Ministry.

Dumbledore put his hand on Sirius' arm and pulled him back to the table. "Stephen and Victoria Potter were assassinated early this morning."

"No," Sirius said, in shock. "No. That's not possible. Mummy P's a seer."

"I'm afraid it's true," Dumbledore replied quietly.

"No," he said weakly, putting his head in his hands. After a minute, he stood up abruptly and rushed out of the Great Hall.

"Professor, can I--"

He nodded before she finished her question. She hurried out of the main castle and onto the grounds to find Sirius, feeling horrible about the way she treated him earlier.

She found Sirius sitting beside the lake, in almost the exact same spot she went to think. As she got closer to him, she realized that he was crying. She didn't quite know how to react – he always had flawless composure, and to see him vulnerable was bewildering. He never allowed himself to cry, even that day that he left for New York City all those years ago.

"Sirius?" He looked up at her, complete devastation on his face. "I can't fall apart now, I just can't," he said desperately. "I need to get it together for Regina's sake. She's already been through so much, and now this. And I'm sure he had something to do with it, too. What, does he just enjoy destroying her life piece by piece?"

"Who?" she asked, confused. He wasn't making any sense, and was nearly hysterical.

"Why? Why them? If he's so angry, why take it out on them, huh? It's me he wants, and he can come face me any time," he screamed.

Isabelle reached out and held his face in her hands. She stared at him squarely in his tortured grey eyes. "Sirius, calm down. You're right – you're no good to anybody like this. Least of all yourself."

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I'm so sorry," he apologized, completely breaking down. "They were the only real parents I ever had."

"I know," she said softly. "Me, too."

Hurt and confused herself, she hugged him, looking for some small measure of comfort. He clung to her, sobbing so hard that his entire body shook. Suddenly, Isabelle realized that her hero was just a man, and all too human. And, that he needed her. At that moment, her feelings towards him changed from mere hero worship to something more, although she couldn't quite figure out what.

If Isabelle's first experiences reminded you a little of Harry in Sorcerer's Stone, I did that on purpose. In Part 4, when I wrap my own universe around HP canon, that will come in handy...

Thanks for the review, ginnyNharrysecretlove! grins I'm starting to feel like a parrot, but as usual, all feedback welcome...