Sugar & Spice

*Sirius's Point of View

I collapsed back into my chair next to Tammie and buried my face in my hands. I could feel myself shaking, but I couldn't seem to stop it for the moment.

It was very rare that I lashed out or got really emotional like this. I am definitely not an angry person but... there was a lot going on in my life, and not much of it was good.

After several minutes I finally regained control of my wayward emotions and sat up. Nobody was paying any attention to me apart from Tammie. She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. For a moment I couldn't speak; nobody outside the Marauders ever asked after my well-being - not even my own family.

The thought of my family lent an unusual amount of venom to my reply.

"None of your business." I snapped. She turned away from me but not before I saw the rejection in her eyes. I sighed inwardly Why am I being such an asshole to her? I wondered, but even after a couple of minutes thinking, I still couldn't understand it.

I sighed and finally started taking notes on McGonagall's lecture. After about half an hour we packed up our things and were dismissed.

The class stood as one and everybody began jostling each other to get out of the doorway.

"Mr Black! You're staying," McGonagall called over the noise. I groaned loudly - I'd completely forgotten about cleaning up the floor. Which was stupid, because I was practically standing in the ink spill.

"Hey, Padfoot!" James called from the doorway. "I'll wait outside, yeah?" I nodded and smiled before a bucket and sponge were thrust into my hands. I sighed. Of course I would have to clean it without magic.

Twenty minutes and ten raisin-like fingers later I stepped out of McGonagall's classroom, my sweaty hair falling in my eyes. I'd barely even had a second to look around for James when I felt a heavy impact against my neck, forcing me up against the wall.

I looked down in shock to find the sneering face of Rudolphus Lestrange about a foot from mine. My stomach dropped.

"What is your problem?" I choked as best I could against the strong fist clenched around my throat. I knew from experience with him that it was generally easier to play dead rather than fight; he was Bella's boyfriend and I didn't want to make things harder for her than they already were. Last year I'd snapped and pounded him into hamburger, and Bella hadn't even been able to look me in the eye for fear he'd find out. Controlling psycho that he was, he was fully capable of taking his anger out on his girlfriend.

"'Nothing. Just that you're a filthy blood traitor in the making. Filth." He repeated, as if I hadn't gotten it the first time. He snarled in my face. I rolled my eyes. Puh-lease, I thought, my best friend's a werewolf. He'd eat you for breakfast, asshole...

Suddenly the clack of high heels on stone reached my ears; it was coming nearer and nearer by the second. Soon enough my cousin Bellatrix stepped into my sight. I sighed in relief, or tried to; Lestrange's hand was close to actually suffocating me.

Bella looked up at me in panic, obviously thinking. Then she winked and gave me a tiny reassuring smile, safe as Lestrange's back was to her. She placed her hand at the base of his back and leaned to whisper in his ear.

"Leave him be, my sweet. He isn't worth the trouble." His face relaxed immediately. I was forcefully reminded of a horse-whisperer calming a bolting stallion. The thought made me sick.

He let me go and my hands flew up to my neck to check the damage. I knew there would be a bruise later, but I didn't really care. I refused to cough though, holding my breath as my face grew redder and redder.

I straightened up and looked Rudolphus calmly in the eye, every single muscle in my body resisting the urge to put his lights out then and there. He knew from experience that I was fully capable.

"You're right Bella. He'll get what's coming to him soon enough," He put his hand on the small of my cousin's back, and I could see it in her eyes; she wanted to shake him off. It seemed she resisted though, as with one last frightened look over her shoulder at me, she was swept around the corner.

I slowly slid down the wall, my head in my hands as I coughed. My eyes felt hotter than they usually did and I was sure they were red.

Bellatrix Black was my favorite relative. We'd been best friends since we were younger, and we'd always looked out for each other, even though she went out of her way to stay in the family's good books, and I did the opposite. We hung out when we could, but only when we were sure nobody would see us.

She'd even gone so far as to agree to go out with Lestrange just to please her parents. Regardless of these differences though, she was one of the sweetest people to be around when you got to know her well.

Lately though... for the last few months she hadn't been acting her usual loveable self. I could see it in her eyes. She was terrified, and I was positive I knew why, too: she'd finally gone one step too far in her efforts to please everybody.

I knew she'd been branded as a Death Eater.

And it was killing me because I wanted to help her so much, but I didn't know how.

I heard the swish of robes suddenly and glanced up to see James peering down at me kindly.

"Family?" James was well aware of all the dramatics that went on in my family - Bellatrix wasn't my only familial problem, though definitely one of the most painful. A lump rose in my throat and I swallowed convulsively.

"Bella." He didn't say it like a question, more like a statement. I could see in his expression that he really felt for me. Yet more proof that he had my back - the boy knew me through and through.

"Come on, mate," He said gently, holding out a hand to help me up. I took it and he threw a bracing arm around my shoulder. He jostled me a bit, trying to lighten up the mood. "Let's go down to the kitchens, eh? Get some hot chocolate or something." I smiled weakly in response and we headed off down the corridor in silence.

There was a very good reason James was my best friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Rosie's Point of View

I was sat in the classroom where Black and I usually worked on catching me up. He'd sent me a blunt note after dinner letting me know he couldn't tutor me tonight. So here I was at 01:30am, trying to practice Level II Transfiguration, and finding it hard to concentrate. It may sound late, but Black and I had been up countless times until 4 o' clock in the morning, cramming days of work into one night.

Much as I hated to admit it, Black was actually an excellent tutor. Even though he would often laugh softly at me when I became angry that I couldn't master certain spells immediately, he had a way of helping me which felt very personal – like he really cared.

Even though I knew he actually didn't, and was only doing it to please McGonagall, it felt nice, almost like I was being looked after.

Half an hour later I sighed and closed my book. I wasn't going to get any farther with it tonight.

I gathered my things and stuffed them in my schoolbag before hopping down off the table and exiting the classroom, locking the door behind me. It was after curfew, but Black and I had special permission from McGonagall to be up late, because of how often Black and I had tutoring.

As always when I walked back to the common room alone late at night (which was more often than not) I found myself being creeped out by the shadows and the faint rattling of the windows from the wind.

Tonight was different though; I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched and followed, and I kept glancing over my shoulder. I sped up my pace, even though I knew I was just imagining things due to the late hour.

As I turned the corner and saw the portrait of the Fat Lady at the end of the corridor, I suddenly had a very powerful desire to get out of the corridor and into Gryffindor Tower.

In spite of the panicked feeling in my throat, I smirked at my own stupidity. It was similar to the feeling of being scared of the dark and desperately wanting to turn on the light as a child.

I had already broken into a run when fierce muttering and the sound of many footsteps reached my ears. In that same second I saw the Fat Lady's expression and I knew something was wrong; her jaw had dropped open and she was watching something I couldn't see - due to the angle - in the corridor to her right.

I skidded to a stop so suddenly I nearly fell over. I don't know why, but I knew I didn't want to be seen by these people, whether they be student, ghost or teacher.

I frantically glanced up and down the corridor but couldn't see anywhere to hide. The corridor was only lined with tapestries and portraits; no sign of any doorways or classrooms. A deep chill that had nothing to do with the temperature ran through me. I was a deer caught in the headlights.

All of a sudden a massive warm hand closed around my mouth and nose and dragged me backwards forcefully, knocking me off my feet. I could tell be their size that it was male.

I tried to scream and kick out at the person, but whoever he was, he was strong. Much stronger than I was. Faster than the blink of an eye they'd pulled back a tapestry, revealing a tiny hiding space. He crammed us into it, letting the fabric fall back into place behind us.

They leaned up against the wall to have something to brace themselves against and pulled my back into them, easily keeping a firm grip on me and making sure not a sound escaped my lips. I was so furious at myself; I felt I should've been able to break free.

"Shut up…! Shut up Tammie!" The person breathed quickly, directly into my neck; I shivered as the warmth of their breath brushed over my collarbone and ear.

Black. Of course.

What was new was the fear in his voice. It scared me that he was even the least bit frightened, so I stopped trying to escape, going limp in his arms and then cringing into him as loud voices were suddenly heard outside the tapestry.

I don't know how I knew, but I was certain that this wasn't just an aimless wandering group of rebel students. This was serious.