May 30, 1977
7:58 pm
Hogwarts Express

The little exposé that the Prophet had dug up on Anneliese about her expulsion from Ilvermorny and unfortunate lack of parents was circulating around the scarlet steam engine to finish off the school year with one last pain in the ass.

Because the lord forbid that I have a peaceful exit, Callaway thought sourly, her cheek pressed against the vibrating glass. That in itself would be too much to ask, wouldn't it?

At this point, she had just locked herself in the compartment with Remus, refusing to let any nosy fourth year or some Ravenclaw making fun of her in and tried to get some sleep before making the late night venture to Diagon Alley.

The ideally lush, rolling English hills that had met her eyes since ten in the morning had very gradually faded into the far away, grey cityscape that she saw now. Callaway found the city somewhat comforting, because it was the closest thing she was going to get to New York in this place.

At the end of Ilvermorny, Anneliese was always terrified to go back to the orphanage. It was a dreaded departure with many teary goodbyes to all of her friends, one that was always the worst part of her year.

But now, Callaway was glad to be rid of all this bullshit. She was too drained, and if Hogwarts had lasted for even just another week, she might not have made it.

But you did make it, Anneliese reminded herself. And that's all that matters.

"Can I have one of those?" she asked warily to Remus, gesturing to his pile of chocolate frogs. "Thank you."

This was how most of the ten hour ride had gone by. They would both sit in surprisingly not awkward silence, lost in their own thoughts, only speaking up for some feeble conversation or offering the other some food.

Well, mostly candy, but they both knew sugar was the only thing they had lived off for one particular week of the year when they had raided Honeydukes and had a competition for who could not eat a vegetable first (Frank won.)

Neither of them wanted to be alone, and they were also each the only person the other could possibly stand even looking at right then.

Anneliese opened up the five sided package and saw Dumbledore's patronizing, twinkling blue eyes staring back up at her.

Remus watched in quiet amusement as Callaway pulled a lighter from her pocket, caught fire to the edge of the pentagon, and then silently watched the card burn. Eventually, the flame got too close to her hand, and Anneliese threw it on the ground.

Dumbledore was reduced to ashes on the carpet underneath her purple converse.

"I feel like that was somehow sacrilegious," Remus mused mildly as he watched Anneliese casually brush the cinders off the bottom of her shoe.

"If Dumbledore is in any way sacred, then I have no hopes left for the world," Callaway replied wisely. "Well, I'm just about already there."

"Fair enough," Lupin said with a small shrug as the train slowed. "So, you're off to Diagon Alley, then?"

"That is correct," Anneliese said with a sigh, grabbing her bag from the rack above her seat with a small hop. "Hopefully I don't run into too many partying teens along the way."

"That's unlikely," Remus replied, wishing he could say something else. "We've gone every year before now, and we were never alone."

There was the silent implication of we being the Marauders. Although Lupin hadn't been there to witness it, the other three boys had endured quite the painfully long stretch of awkward and angry tension home.

Peter had ended up sitting with Lily and Sirius, all three of whom just looked like they wanted to talk to the other but ended up saying nothing. Each member of the trio had a very prominent relationship with James.

Pettigrew was his best friend, Sirius was like his brother, and Lily was the girl he loved.

But none of them even spoke a word about Potter or to the others at all.

James himself had walked into a random compartment, latched shut the door and cast a Silencing Charm, and then crawled under his invisibility cloak so that he could have a bit of privacy while crying himself to sleep for the remainder of the ride.

The trainwreck of teenagers were honestly surprised that they even managed to stay within the same vehicle as the others without some form of verbal or physical aggression breaking out among them.

If it weren't for the locks on the sliding doors, they might have.

As for the rest of the school on the train, they were fairly on edge the whole time. The Marauders hadn't pulled an end of the year prank like normal, and they were all just hoping that the four boys wouldn't do anything stupid on the train.

Those exact four boys, however, could barely even speak to their scheming counterparts, much less plan and execute a whole prank.

It wasn't like it was rare for them to fight at all. Hell, they were known just as much for their drama as they were their pranks.

But it had just never been at the end of the school year before when one of these ghosting sessions broke out, and it was slightly unnerving for everyone to witness.

Things were too quiet.

As Sirius and Anneliese passed each other in the narrow hallway, neither of them said a word. They might have if they thought this was actually going to be some form of goodbye, but both knew they would be seeing each other sooner than expected whether they liked it or not.

It was frustrating to Anneliese that even though she was furious at Sirius, she still could feel the sexual tension between them that was nearly impossible to get rid of.

Her fingers itched to be against his chest even if they were angry, and Black couldn't help but notice how Callaway looked particularly attractive today with her hair halfway pulled back to keep it out of her face when she was looking out the window.

As Anneliese stepped away from him and onto the bright, bustling platform, she instantly noticed how it was an incredibly stark contrast to the atmosphere she had spent her day in.

The amber, warmly glowing lamps that softly illuminated the blue plaid seats she had been sitting on couldn't be more opposite to the harsh white overhead lights that were casting precise shadows down onto the station below them.

Even though the light was cold, the aura of Platform 9 ¾ couldn't have been warmer.

Anneliese smiled softly as she watched dozens of families reunited with one another in flurries of too tight, happy hugs and joyous laughter, and then felt a small pang go through her chest as she was reminded that this would never be her.

She just kept walking, trying to find an exit in the swarm.

While most people had a large trunk or cage for their owl, Callaway had her hands free.

The bag that she had used to pack up all of her very few things was small enough to be shrunk without distorting the objects and then tucked into the pocket of her crimson sweatpants.

The only things left with easy access were a pack of cigarettes in her bra strap, her wand in her waistband, and the lighter in her other pocket. The flask was in her bag, so as far as Anneliese was concerned, all the essentials were on her.

James and Sirius felt a shot of both happiness and dread pang through their stomachs as they saw Fleamont and Euphemia Potter staring back at them, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Potter silently wished that he had never complained about his mother's bone crushing hugs, because he would do anything to receive one now instead of the lethal look she was giving him that made James want to squirm and then melt into the floor.

"Did you apologize to her?" Euphemia asked in a monotone voice. "Tell me right now that you apologized to her, James Potter."

Sirius sighed deeply, running one hand along his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. If James could have done one thing to make his mother less mad and make everything better between him and Anneliese, it was a simple apology.

Then again, Callaway had probably been avoiding James at all costs, and even if Potter had tried, Black doubted that he could have gotten her alone without Anneliese being incredibly on edge and ready to hex him the whole time.

"Uhm..," James muttered, not looking Euphemia in the eye and unintentionally giving her his answer without even saying anything. "Well, I actually didn't have an opportunity-"

Sirius's hands were itching to punch this moron so badly, taking back all of his previous excuses he had made by default for James. He could have found a way-

"You could have found a way," Fleamont said, slowly shaking his head. "And we saw her in the Prophet as well. The least you could have done was defend her with all this nonsense going on, but let me guess, you didn't do that either?"

James, just as his father suspected, had not made any effort to tell people to mind their own business during breakfast that morning when the newspaper was being passed around.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, adjusting his glasses out of nervous habit. "I-"

"You shouldn't be apologizing to us," Euphemia cut her son off the second she saw an excuse forming. "You should be apologizing to her."

Meanwhile, that girl who needed an apology also desperately needed a foghorn so some of these people would clear the hell out of her way when she was just trying to get out of this damn station.

"Excuse me," she muttered, moving through a swarm of gingers who looked ridiculously happy to see each other. "Sorry."

So apparently Gideon and Fabian are a part of a whole redhead reunion, she thought as they both gave her a nod of acknowledgment that she returned. I wonder if-

Anneliese probably would have been able to move out of the woman walking toward her's way if she hadn't been thinking even the slightest bit too much, but she only succeeded in heavily knocking shoulders with her in the flurry of the crowded station.

Both of them stumbled slightly, and Callaway held her shoulder with a small groan. It was the same one that had been broken earlier in the year by the hexed bludger, and even though Pomfrey had done the best she could, it still hurt sometimes.

Anneliese turned, expecting an apology, only to see that the woman looking back at her was unnervingly familiar in a way that put a pit through her stomach.

She had high cheekbones and a severely sculpted face like the carver had just been a little bit too heavy handed on making the point of her nose and hollowing out her cheeks, along with sharp grey eyes that were highly critical even though Anneliese knew she had done nothing wrong.

There was immediately no question that this woman was Sirius's mother.

Of course, my luck, Callaway thought with extreme distaste. Of all people.

Regulus and the man that Anneliese assumed was his father both looked back once the woman had stopped, noticing her pause in their brisk walk and halting as well.

You see, Walburga Black was not used to being looked at the way Callaway was currently staring her down.

She was used to people immediately recognizing her and her family and then averting their eyes away with fear of their reputation as followers of Voldemort and high positions in the Ministry that could destroy you in a second if they wished.

But Anneliese was currently looking at Walburga like she was a foul, entitled wasp that she wanted to hit right out of the air.

Callaway couldn't even describe the anger rising in her chest right now. This was the woman who had hurt her boy, this was the woman who had abused Sirius mentally and physically, this was the woman who had destroyed her beloved Black to the point of running away.

All of her rage towards Sirius was overpowered by her hatred for this woman.

"What are you looking at, girl?" Walburga spat with disgust, nose slightly scrunched as she looked at Anneliese. "Keep your filthy mudblood gaze to yourself."

Callaway almost laughed. If only this woman knew everything she knew about her.

From beside his father, Regulus saw the dangerous look placed on Anneliese's face. He had seen it before when Callaway had her dignity disrespected on the quidditch pitch when the team was arguing with her, and that hadn't ended very well.

Anneliese caught Regulus's eye, and he gave her the slightest of shakes of his head telling her that this was in no way worth it and it would be incredibly stupid to do anything.

Unfortunately, Callaway was in Gryffindor.

"I'd rather be a mudblood than the likes of you," Anneliese said back with an equal amount of disgust in her southern drawl. "Wearing nice clothes and acting all proper don't disguise the snakes you really are."

Regulus silently groaned, knowing that Callaway had just started a conversation that wouldn't go well by any means.

Usually, Orion and Walburga would not waste their time with little girls who were rude to them at train stations.

But something about how this girl so blatantly disrespected them while looking at them like she knew all of their darkest secrets deeply wounded their fragile pride and egos, and they wanted to make sure this blonde knew who the hell she was talking to.

"And remind us who the hell you think you are?" Walburga challenged in a petty tone, daring Anneliese to disrespect her again. "You do not get to talk to your superiors in such ways, you ignorant American. Are you even fully aware of who you just spoke to like that?"

The Blacks would also never turn down a chance to remind others of their status and power.

"Uhm, mum," James muttered as his eyes caught the interaction going on a few families behind them. "I-"

"No, James, you do not get to interrupt me unless you never want to touch a broom again," Euphemia snapped back, eyes wide at his nerve. "As I was saying-"

"No, mum, look," James cut her off again, eyes just as wide as his mother's. "Behind you."

Sirius hadn't really been looking at James this whole time, for the same reason of the image of Anneliese looking so scared of James flashing through his mind, but something about Potter's tone made Black follow his hazel gaze.

All of the heads in the family of four turned.

Sirius's stomach twisted so severely he almost threw up.

Of all the things that could have happened the second Anneliese was out from under his watch, it was her running directly into the monsters that previously called themselves his mother and father.

And from the look on Callaway's face, she knew exactly who they were.

Sirius simply couldn't stand still.

It was obvious to everyone else that Orion and Walburga would never do anything to severely harm Anneliese when in such a public place and for the sake of their reputation, but Black couldn't help it.

There had been too many nights he spent lying with his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and hoping that he could find the strength to stand back up as pain shot through the purple and yellow bruises and cuts gradually trickling blood all over his body.

Too many times when he was shouted at so severely that his head started to hurt and hands violently shake, too many times that he had locked himself in his room and gone for days without food or water so he would not have to face his parents.

There were too many times when he had been so deeply hurt by these people for him to possibly stand still and watch as they were even within a yard of Anneliese.

Because if even all they did was hurt her with their derogatory words or saying something a little too out of line, Sirius would never forgive himself if he could have prevented it.

He didn't care how mad Callaway was at him, she could hex him for all he cared when he walked up to her, just as long as she wasn't talking to those monsters.

They don't deserve to look at her, Sirius thought with disgust. She's too good for even that much.

"Sirius!" Euphemia exclaimed as soon as she saw where he was going, grabbing onto his shirt sleeve in slight desperation. "You are not-"

The memories of when Sirius had arrived at Potter Manor half dead were all of the sudden flooding back for her.

Black had barely been able to walk because his stomach was bruised so badly.

Mrs. Potter vividly remembered James helping Sirius take his shirt off and seeing that all across his pale, firm stomach were bruises the sizes of entire fists.

The marks had started with a dark, bloody violet in the middle and then stretched out to greenish yellow rims that extended all across his sides in a violent design echoing that he had just narrowly escaped.

Sirius had been in literal hysterics, apologizing for even thinking that he was welcome at Potter Manor, asking for forgiveness for burdening them with his presence, all while sobbing while Euphemia cleaned off the cut on his arm and back that both left scars.

James himself had earned a scar from that night.

To this day, there was a small semicircle on the back of his hand from when he had offered it to Sirius to hold onto while his mother was cleaning off blood and Black's nail had dug deep into his flesh.

"I am," Sirius cut her off, gently grabbing Mrs. Potter's hand and pulling it off his clothes. "It's just a word, Mia."

Black himself hadn't seen his parents since the night he ran away. He had made an active effort to keep his eyes on the Potters during all of the previous Platform 9 ¾ interactions, but he knew he was going to have to look at them eventually.

And to Sirius, Callaway was just about the only thing that would push him to be the one actually walking towards them.

Every step felt against his nature and against his will, but he didn't care as long as he kept his eyes focused on Anneliese's furious expression.

"Believe me, no matter what you think, you are far from my superior," Anneliese replied, upper lip curled slightly in revulsion. "As for if I'm aware of who I just talked to like that?"

She smiled slightly, a smile with a raised eyebrow that said she knew that she was above you whether you had realized it or not. It faded after a few moments, though, as she remembered the scars she had seen on Sirius.

"Yes, I am fully aware of what kind of monsters you are," Anneliese said slowly. "I just wasn't aware of the pretentious arrogance to talk to strangers like this that came along with that."

"Watch who you're calling arrogant, girl," Orion spat back. "You happen to be speaking to one of the highest ranking Ministry officials, and I am being very generous with you right now not to have already-"

But unfortunately, Anneliese never got to hear his threat finished before she felt a very familiar hand on her waist.

And to Sirius, the second he met his father's eyes, he was back in Grimmauld Place.

His foot had stumbled while trying to run up the stairs either from panic or clumsiness from trying to escape his parents, but either way, his stomach was flat against the rich carpet and he was all of the sudden vulnerable.

It hadn't taken long for Orion to catch Sirius and press his shoe between his son's shoulder blades, making him almost black out from how hard his head had slammed against the edge of the step.

From between the thin strips of elegantly carved wood supporting the railing of the staircase, Sirius