Note:

I apologize for the long hiatus. I never meant to stop writing, but the break has definitely given me more ideas. Hopefully some of the people who were reading this will continue to now that I'm back and will be having more time to write. U

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, wish I did though, 'cause then I wouldn't need a real job. Lapis Lazuli Azure Black is my character and please don't use her without my permission. (Not that anyone would)

Chapter 11:

The normal routine came and went for Harry like summer vacation. Classes began without delay, and his mood had not changed in the slightest. He was being juvenile and pouty and he realized it, but as usual these days, he didn't care. Days got worse with the American arrival, which only served as more reason for him to ignore the friendly prodding to cheer up.

This year they shared nearly every class with Slytherin. Why the two most rivaled Houses in Hogwarts were grouped together for classes was beyond Harry. Hadn't it occurred to anyone in the faculty that it might have been smarter to group Slytherin with Ravenclaw? The two Houses certainly weren't on friendly terms, but neither were they at each other's throats constantly. They had a mutual respect for each other's cunning, at best. Hufflepuff would have suited the Gryffindor House better in classes, simply because the friendliest students were usually stuck there.

Well, friendliest but for a few anyway. There were some who still considered Harry an upstart, but he never listened to them.

It was days like today that made him believe that someone up there truly enjoyed watching him live a life of misery. Potions class proceeded as per the usual routine. Snape gave his assignment, Harry went to get his ingredients, and about every ten or so minutes after that he would lose points for some reason or another. This time, the routine was slightly more jagged.

On the other side of the room, paired up with Neville Longbottom (for whatever reason, Harry did not know) was Lazul Black. She was wearing the school uniform, and looking rather good in it, for another reason Harry couldn't fathom. It was probably the fact that she actually had curves, whereas the rest of the girls at Hogwarts did their best to hide them from the boys until they were ready to reveal them in private. Lazul didn't seem to care that anyone who was trying hard enough could probably tell that she was wearing thigh-high gray nylons with black ribbon garters. They went well with her pristine black Mary-Jane's and were in fact not violating the dress code.

He had to shake his head out of that thought…it caused him to flush, but Ron took it as frustration at the fact that the contents of their cauldron seemed to be purposely evading turning bright red like everyone else's potions.

She also seemed to be purposely ignoring him. For what reason, Harry didn't know, but he assumed that it would just be a mutual dislike, as it had turned out to be when he'd met Malfoy in his first year. The two seemed to be getting along just like two peas in a pod. Lazul hung out at their table during the recesses, occasionally commenting on something the others would say, although not participating in the tormenting that they did. For some reason, Harry found that puzzling. After all, how can you belong to a group and not follow along with the crowd? Especially that one.

"Mister Potter, I do believe that the instructions state 'pour in the Nightshade at a forty-five degree angle while stirring clockwise every five seconds'. Not pouring the contents of your cutting board into the cauldron until the top foams and then allowing Mister Weasley to stir at his leisure." Professor Snape glowered from behind him at his full imposing height.

Harry restrained a sigh of annoyance and stilled his hand from pouring in the Nightshade that was remaining on his board. All eyes turned to the scene in interest and fear.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for carelessness, Potter." He moved on without a second glance, making a b-line to Lazul's shared cauldron with Neville. Harry watched in interest to see the expected result of a glance into Neville's cauldron. Snape enjoying picking on select Gryffindors and Neville tended to share in this particular pain.

But the onslaught never came. Instead, Snape towered over the concoction for a few moments and muttered to Lazul in what seemed to be appraisal. She nodded a few times, not noticing Neville's sudden lack of breathing. When the Professor moved on, she continued to add ingredients and dictate instructions to the nervous boy next to her.

Harry fumed. Of course Neville wouldn't receive any of the usual treatment. He was partnered up with Snape's new star pupil. Next to Malfoy, Lazul was now the ideal apprentice for the Potions Master. It only worsened the mood Harry was in already to know that someone else was getting a break from their misery by being in her company.

Lazul kept her smirk inside as she watched every boy in the room try to be subtle about looking up her skirt. If she was going to be forced into wearing the rather sexist uniforms, she was going to find a way to cause a disruption in it. No one could really say anything to her about it, as the uniform socks were optional, and she was wearing short shorts instead of briefs under the skirt, so she wasn't purposefully inviting the boys to look. Besides, they were all at the age where hormones began to run wild anyway.

It was a small amusement that she kept to herself because she knew that her partner just couldn't. Neville Longbottom was a Gryffindor student that was branded below-average by everyone in school except his Herbology Professor. Lazul didn't blame them for making that presumption, because for all that she was trying not to, she couldn't help agreeing that he was a hopeless case.

She had given him the task of preparing the ingredients while she took care of the mixing and the instructions. It had helped that she was a good cook and a stickler for perfection. Neville was trying very hard, but only because Lazul was paying attention to what he was doing had they avoided spilling the cauldron onto the floor about three times over the course of twenty minutes. He was going through a normal growth spurt, and was still trying to get used to the size of his hands and feet, which caused most of the problem. His natural tendency to be afraid of everything upon first glance didn't help though. Lazul introduced herself very politely, and very slowly, to keep from seeming threatening but her uniform was simply an unavoidable subject. He feared the Slytherin House more than her, and the reputation behind its House members kept her from beguiling him into anything that even resembled calm.

So, she took care of the difficult things, such as anything that might require actual movement from his stiff position sitting in front of the chopping board.

The Professor was practical, and calculatingly fair in her opinion. Not a pleasant man, but Professor Snape didn't seem to dislike her so she didn't mind him so much. He favored her because she was in his House, but that seemed to be a normal thing for most of the Professors, which meant she had to work twice as hard in every other subject to come by an honest fair grade. Not only was she fighting with Professors who were wary of her background, but her House selection had caused many to distrust her all-together.

Lazul was bothered only slightly by this, as things hadn't been much different back home. The only difference was kids didn't throw stones here.

"W-what's next?" Neville stuttered, with an effort to keep his voice quietly even. Lazul blinked at him, and smiled as a silent applaud of his bravery. Apparently he was trying his best not to be completely rude.

"I think that's it. All it says to do next is stir clockwise every four seconds and then counter-clockwise after the first three times, interchanging until it boils. You want to do the stirring now?" Neville shook his head sheepishly, and Lazul shrugged. "That's fine. I don't mind much at all just doing this."

She smiled brightly, knowing that even in his fear he couldn't resist her winning smile. Lazul didn't have to actually do anything to get that trick to work. It was a talent she'd inherited from her momma. Momma had won many a man back in her day simply smiling at them, unintentionally pulling on the heart-strings until they had no choice but to smile back, and spend the rest of the afternoon wishing they could touch her.

Lazul had the same effect on boys her age, and some older. Even little children loved her when she smiled like this. It was a siren's effect, without the vocal encouragement. Because for only a split second, when they smiled you could see the hint of a hidden point in the corner of their lips where there rested a promise and a delightful kiss. A girl's first kiss.

There was a difference between The First Kiss, and a first kiss. Lazul had had The First Kiss when she was thirteen, when her smile had just begun developing into that desirable promise that resembled her momma's. It was an innocent exchange between boy and girl before either understood the importance or fragility of emotional stability. It was a kiss that takes place for no reason at all but for all the right reasons in the world, and remains the purest thing about a person even into old age. A secret, sacred thing, that Lazul had had the fortune to enjoy and keep close to her heart, even through all the misfortune and sadness in her growing up.

A first kiss was a kiss between two people who never shared intimacy before that moment. It was a kiss that could be perfect, practical, or completely disastrous. Lazul had had plenty of those, too. Many boys had fallen in and out of her life, some bittersweet memories and others were fond little moments brought on by nothing more than flirtatious daring.

Lazul hadn't meant to show Neville that smile, but as it often happened, she did without thinking. His obvious blush gave him away and showed her the error. She didn't mind, but it was a pity she could predict what a first kiss with Mister Longbottom would be. It wouldn't be a disappointment for her, but it would be another bittersweet memory and a heartbreakingly humiliating thing for him. For one thing, they were separated socially by House, and another was she knew him to be too timid to try pursuing something as flighty and unpredictable as a one-time fling. So, she tucked her smile away and shook her head, turning her nose into the potions book and stirring the cauldron without another word the rest of the afternoon.

Harry watched Neville and Lazul share a rare exchange that he only ever saw between people that shared a House. She was flirting with Longbottom! Harry watched Neville sit there sputtering silently as Lazul, seemingly having realized what it was she had been doing, turned back to the cauldron and her book with a hard set look on her pretty features.

He frowned at that. So she liked to ignore people? That was the sign of someone who probably did belong to Slytherin. For hours now, Harry had been trying to see what it was that made him sit so ill around her. Partly he thought it was the House she was in, and another was her strange attitude towards everyone else in the school in general. She wasn't cold like most in her House, but neither was she outwardly friendly to anyone whom she didn't share a Common Room with.

It shouldn't have bothered him, but he couldn't figure out why it rubbed him so. After all, he didn't know her well enough to really care. But that was another problem…he felt like he did.

Harry had felt the familiar tug at her presence at the performance back home, but it was stronger now, and he couldn't figure out why. Those eyes haunted him for some reason he didn't want to think about. So many other things had already made him miserable and brooding that he didn't want to purposely continue to ruin his Sixth year. It was uncomfortable and unavoidable though…Hermione and Ron were both determined to question him any time now, and that would probably be the recess between Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Snape walked back to the front of the classroom and called for their results, pulling Harry out of his not so peaceful reverie. He grimaced at the results that he and Ron shared, but poured it into a small sampler anyway and took it up. The liquid they had been attempting to mix was supposed to be a smooth green pasty liquid. This looked more like someone had just chucked their lunch into a cauldron. Keeping his sigh silent as Snape gave him that same disapproving sneer; Harry went back to his seat and waiting for everyone else to be dismissed.

Hermione kept to Harry's shoulder, looking concerned. "Harry, what's the matter with you? You've been snappish to Ron and me for days, and I might add the whole summer really, but those dreadful Dursley's probably didn't make things any easier," she hoped rather than knew that that was the reason Harry hadn't written to either of them over the summer. It had broken her heart to think that he had dug himself so deep that not even the combined efforts of them both could pull him out of his rut.

"I'm just distracted, Hermione. Leave it be, it's nothing important." Harry responded dully. He did seem distracted though. She had seen him casting glances at that girl, Lazul Black all day. Hermione thought it was only reasonable, after all. It was no coincidence with the tragedy of Harry's Godfather's recent…departure.

"I know you miss him, Harry, but you shouldn't be so distracted by that girl. After all, she's no Sirius."

Harry stopped in his tracks, nearly knocking her over with the sudden change in step. Ron too stopped, more due to Harry's sudden change in expression than Hermione's last comment.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Hermione stared at her friend in shock for a moment, confused by that sudden curse. She was used to listening to Ron shout out expletives every now and then, but Harry rarely shouted for no reason, or said 'bloody' anything at all. Her brown eyes looked into his glowing green quizzically.

"Um…I was talking about Lazul?" Hermione tried again, wondering if he had missed what she was trying to say to him.

"I know what you said Hermione, but what did you compare her to Sirius for?" Harry insisted, looking a bit dangerous for the moment.

"Don't be daft, Harry," Hermione huffed at him, suddenly irritated at his rudeness and overall getting tired of his attitude altogether. It was hard enough being nice to him when he was moody, but she was not going to deal with his sudden hostility. "Lazul Black? Hasn't it ever occurred to you that she has Sirius's last name? She also happens to be staying in his old house, where the Order used to be meeting. And besides all that, I'd thought for sure you would have noticed the resemblance. Her eyes are just like his-"

Hermione didn't get to finish her reasoning, as Harry started off in another direction. Ron balked, and looked at her.

"What'd you do to him?"

"I didn't do a thing, Ronald! Ugh! Boys!" Hermione threw her hands in the air and left it up to Ron to chase down their friend. This time, she wasn't going to try fixing things for him.

Why was it they never listened anyway?

She's Sirius's daughter…she's Sirius's daughter…she's Sirius's daughter!

Harry's mind was looping with that the entire run. He kept running until he couldn't think anymore about anything but Sirius's eyes, and that girl's accursed resemblance. Of course, he'd never thought about it, he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to realize that maybe Sirius had once had a family, just like his friends. So she would have been his sister…a sister…

Harry had never pondered the though of having siblings, even if by technicality they would only be step-siblings. Sirius had never mentioned anything about it, so Harry hadn't dreamed of it. All the time he'd never thought he would have to share his newfound godfather with anyone.

But now there was her. Lazul was Sirius's daughter.

Harry slowed down his pace when he knew he'd run too far for Ron to catch him, or Hermione to suggest searching for him. He didn't want to talk to them right now. He didn't want to be bothered by anything in the world. He wanted to know why he'd never once thought about putting two and two together.

Why hadn't she said anything to him?

Perhaps Lazul didn't know who her father was, or if she had, it had only been by name alone. That was a sad thought. Harry had always wanted to imagine Sirius being a loving parent, and a fun-loving father. Lazul didn't appear to be a very happy girl. In fact, there were the tell-tale signs of someone who masked reality behind a cool exterior. Perhaps that's also why she enjoyed the theatre so much. After all, plays and shows were just make-pretend and fun. You could hide your bruises under make-up and your tears behind a song.

He wanted to talk to her. To find out more. In the time that it took him to piece these two thoughts together, Harry realized that it was less a need to know her, than to stay close to Sirius. He'd been robbed of a chance at a real family when the Death Eaters had robbed him of his godfather…and Lazul's father. So much sadness, and now more surprises. Harry almost didn't want to chance it, but he needed…closure was the closest thing he could think of that sounded right.

He made his way across the school, knowing full well that this would either be the best thing he'd do all day, or the most disastrous thing he could do all year.

Lazul leaned against a tree tiredly, barely listening to the 'witty' remarks of one Draco Malfoy. The blonde seemed to take great pleasure in the sound of his own voice, and enjoyed power on top of it all. Being able to keep these other people amused was not a difficult task, but rather than compete for attention that was not much better than a goldfish, she nodded every now and then to keep up the illusions of being interested.

Sudden silence made her look up. It was unusual for anyone to stop laughing at one of Malfoy's jokes this early into the conversation. The reason for it was walking straight toward them, looking rather determined.

Harry Potter, the boy she'd met weeks before coming to Hogwarts, looked striking and almost dashing in his own messy 'I-really-need-to-invest-in-a-comb' sort of way. She smirked at Draco's sudden change in expression. He wasn't her favorite person in the world, but she didn't dislike him. She just had this twisted sort of affection that required her to annoy him in any and all ways possible. So, being in the mood for mischief, she stood up straight and brushed off her skirt, purposely swishing the skirt so that the outline of her garters became visible for a brief second.

"Look's like a cock fight waitin' to happen here, eh Draco?" she grinned coyly. Not a smile with a promise, but a true tease. He gave her the smallest of scowls, more aware of her garters than her actual comment.

Harry came to the edge of the group, and stared directly at her. She paused from her toying to consider his look. It wasn't something she was used to. It was very forward and sincere. And somewhat accusing.

"You're Sirius Black's daughter?"

Lazul stood there for a moment, not reacting. She waited for the combined reactions of the people around her. Draco looked slightly amused by the mention of her father's name. the goons, Crabbe and Goyle, looked like they weren't swayed much by it. Pansy was giggly for whatever reason there was for her to be giggly about this time of day. Several others followed in Draco's example and proceeded to smirk and semi-circle around the Potter boy.

"…that was my dad's name." she successfully responded in a neutral tone.

"Did you know him?" he pressed.

"No. My momma never had the courtesy of knowing him farther than the back of a pick-up truck." Lazul was frank, and didn't flinch at all with the slight sniggering that was no doubt directed as an insult to her momma. She'd deal with them later.

His eyes seemed to get dark at that. Apparently he'd known her dad, and didn't appreciate he slightly skewed opinion of him. Bully for him. She hadn't given a damn for a long time, and Harry Potter's displeasure wasn't really something to make her change her mind about. After all, he wasn't that impressive to her. She'd heard the stories, and actually made an effort to talk to him outside class with his other friends. All in all, he wasn't a bad person. He was unfortunately put into the position of someone who wants to fix things whether he can or not. Lazul wasn't about to let him try 'fixing her opinion of a man who was now dead and gone and had never mattered to her in the first place.

"He wasn't a bad man. I wanted to know if you ever-"

"Met him? Nope, he didn't give me much courtesy either." She cut him off before he finished the question.

"Sirius was a good man!" Harry insisted. It seemed like he was almost trying to convince himself as much as he was her. Lazul didn't care.

"Sure. He was a saint. I bet he went to church every Sunday and everything…wait I forgot now, we're all pagans, now aren't we?" the laughter was dry, and heartless. Even the other students around her were suddenly uneasy. Lazul had never been entirely open here, and so they'd never had the pleasure of seeing her unraveled.

"Don't talk about someone you didn't know, like that."

"It's not my fault I didn't know him, now is it?" she shot him a hard look, restraining the urge to tug at the tendrils of his Will. She could seem them flaring about like a glorious tapestry on a battlefield that was devoid of bloodshed.

He too, was getting angry, but she didn't understand why. She was answering his questions. He didn't like the answers, oh well. "Forget it, I thought maybe-"

"Maybe what?" Lazul took a step forward, staring up at Harry with thundering electric orbs. She knew that they were blazing with power, flickering like a thunderstorm in the middle of the spring.

"Maybe you could talk to me about him? Share your feelings now that he's dead? Talk about your loss? Like I give a damn. I can't mourn the loss of something that I never had now can I, Potter?"

There was silence for a full minute before he walked off, leaving dead air in place of the aura. Lazul took a deep breath and willed herself to calm, ignoring the sniggering and jibing that was the celebration of her triumph over the group's combined object of displeasure. Draco was especially praising her, his hand gently brushing her shoulder with the intention of being a hint at camaraderie. She ignored it all and stood there, trying to figure out why she had gotten so angry.

What was it that made her so angry?

Harry stared at the ceiling of his room in an attempt to sort through his jumbled thoughts.

I hate her, he thought. She's nothing like him. Absolutely nothing. Lazul hated Sirius. She hated him in his grave, and would have probably hated him in person. It was no wonder she had been sorted into Slytherin. She would have made Sirius's mother happy. She was smart, and more importantly she was Slytherin.

Harry continued to stare at the ceiling as his mind formed the thoughts carefully in his mind.

Lapis Lazuli Azure Black was his enemy.