Sirius was worried. His final exams were next school year and he still couldn’t cast a patronus. Everyone else in his year could cast one, even Robert Kingston, and he was always making mistakes. In transfiguration he’d turned his goblet into a black widow spider when they were supposed to turn them into birds, in charms he’d set his jug on fire when they were supposed to fill it with water, and in Defence against the Dark arts, well, everyone knew he was the reason Professor Huxley didn’t return that Autumn. Sirius knew the problem, see he’d never had a happy memory, not until he’d met James, Remus and Peter that is. At home his brother bullied him, and his parents beat him, and even the house elf, Kreacher, was ordered to kick him now and then, and the abuse only gotten worse since Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, instead of Slytherin, like the rest of the “Most ancient and Noble house of Black”, well, except for Andromeda that is.
The marauders were all on the train home from Hogwarts when Sirius finally told them why he was always covered in bruises, told them why he couldn’t cast a patronus. The marauders had always thought something bad was happening at home, after all, the bruises were only there in September, but they were still shocked when their suspicions were confirmed. “Want me to curse them for you?” Offered James, only half joking. Sirius shook his head and rolled his eyes. He was glad James had tried to lighten the mood. They laughed and joked the rest of the way home and Sirius wished the train ride would never end. Sadly it did.
That summer was beginning to be the worst of his life. As soon as he got home his mother flew into a rage, screaming, slapping and clawing at him, she’d found his collection of muggle objects- a magazine about computers, another about muggle rock bands. “How dare you bring this filth into my house” she’d screamed, ripping the pages and throwing the tatters into the fireplace. After that he’d kept himself locked in his room for a few days, some days crying, others, just staring blankly at the walls, and his family let him be. It turns out, that was the calm before the storm. That Saturday evening his father came home from visiting friends and was drunk. “Come here boy,” he’d shouted at Sirius. Sirius, though knowing something bad was about to happen, obeyed. It’d be far worse if he hadn’t. “Sit!” Orion yelled. Sirius sat on the wooden floor so hard he knocked the wind out of himself. Then from the corner of his eye, he noticed Orion was drawing his wand. “W-what are you doing?” Sirius dared to ask, his voice breaking. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” Orion spat, “Crucio!”
Sirius had passed out. When he awoke, every inch of his body ached. He tried to stand but his legs burned in protest. The crawl up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom were agony. When he made it, he slowly packed his trunks, he noticed his left arm was broken. Tears streaming down his face, Sirius then went to bed, but didn’t sleep. He waited, ears keen as he listened for his parents going to bed, then he crept downstairs, trunks levitating ahead of him, he sat on the kerb around the corner, for what seemed like hours, when suddenly, something very large and purple pulled up alongside him.
Welcome to the knight bus, I’m your conductor Ernie, where will you be going this fine evening?”
“G-Godric’s Hollow, please?” Sirius hoped James’ parents wouldn’t mind him dropping by so late. He’d only met them once or twice and they seemed very nice, and James really looked up to his father.
When he arrived he realised he didn’t have to worry. Mr Potter, Mrs. Potter and James were all stood at the door. “H- how did you know?”
“Dumbledore.” Said Mrs. Potter, wrapping Sirius in a warm hug, her eyes twinkling”
Of course. Dumbledore knew everything about everyone. Sirius let himself sink into the hug, and for once he felt safe.
The rest of the summer was the best Sirius could ever remember. The potters were so kind and caring and treated him like another son, he had his best friend to talk and joke with, and the potters even let Peter and Remus come around whenever they wanted. They visited Mr Fortescue’s, watched the quidditch World Cup, got lots of novelty’s from Gambol and Japes, and they even visited James’s aunt in the south of France. They’d even all decided to help Sirius with casting a patronus charm.
The last week of summer rolled around, and although he’d been practicing everyday, perfected his pronunciation and wand gestures, and had enough happy memories to last a lifetime, Sirius still couldn’t cast the patronus charm.
“Don’t worry mate you’ll get it” James said, clapping him on the back.
“How do you know?” Sirius said skeptically.
“Because you’re my brother.” Sirius’s heart swelled with love and pride, and warmth. He threw his arms around James, his best friend, no, his brother. He was happier than he’d ever been in his life. He finally had the brother he’d always wanted, and James wanted him too.
“Come on Padfoot, let’s go back inside, we’ve been working on it all day.”
“Hang on, just let me do it, one more time.”
James shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, but then let’s get some supper, I’m starving.”
This time Sirius knew he was going to do it. He thought of James, of him calling him brother, of the hug, of the jokes, of how much he loved his new family, because that’s who the Potters had become. And when he said the words they were filled with love, and joy and hope. “Expecto Patronum!” And a slither of silver burst from his wand, small at first, but then it grew, and grew, and grew, until the entire night sky was filled with silver white light, and then then the light shifted and changed into a dog, and then a pack of dogs, and then all the dogs merged together to form one enormous dog that bounded around the garden excitedly, tail wagging, and Sirius beamed.
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