You Can't Handle Me (A Sirius Black Love Story)

Chapter 1: Hope

Waverly POV

3 years.

12x3=36 months.

52x3=156 weeks.

365x3=1095 days.

1095x24=26280 hours.

26280x60=1576800 minutes.

156800x60=9460800 seconds.

I sighed, and looked at the words and numbers I had on the paper. I tapped the eraser of my pencil on the window of the bus, and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. I heard my little brother, West mumble something in his sleep. I smiled slightly, and threw my jacket over his shoulders. He shivered slightly, and smiled slightly in his sleep.

I pulled my thin sweater over my shoulders, and put my notebook and pencil in my bag, and gently shook West awake.

“Are we here Sissy?” he mumbled, rubbing his clear, blue eyes.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder, and handed West his backpack.

“That ‘ll be three Galleons, and 2 sickles,” the conductor said, I almost winced as I pulled out the coins.

I helped my 11 year old brother of the bus, and we watched the three floor purple bus zoom away. I looked at the heavy mans watch on my wrist. It was my fathers. The shiny, copper face was inlaid with silver numbers that matched the silver band. It was three am, London time. So, nine in the morning New York time. West was yawning and mumbling about how he was tired as we went into the pub called ‘The Leakey Calderon.’

It was smoky, and musty inside, but it was nice compared to the cold, snowy weather outside.

“ ‘Ello, can I help ‘ya?” A man asked, looking at me and West oddly.

“I think we might have the wrong place,” I said, holding West shoulder. “I’m looking for the entrance to a-” I paused to flip through my notebook. “Diagon Ally?”

“Ah, a young witch and wizard!” the man said, coming out from around the bar, a few people looked at us weird. “ ‘ya got the right place. Need a room?”

“Yes-Wait, what’s the price?” I asked, I only had a few Galleons left… The man looked at me and West. We had spent all out normal money on plane tickets to the UK.

“On the house,” he gave me a heavy, old fashioned key and led us to the room. West fell asleep on the covers eminently. I smiled and pulled the covers over him. I curled up in the chair, and opened my backpack. I pulled out the leather bound book, and my ash wand.

“Lumos,” I said, the end of the wand glowed a bright bluish light. “Nox.” The light fluttered out. “Lumos Maxima,” the light glowed brighter. After an hour of this, I marked it with a small ‘x’ with my pencil.

I went to the next page. I was teaching myself magic over the last three years, and West the last one and a half. I know, wizards are normally taught at age 11 and up, but I taught him anyways.

Our parents where killed three years ago when I was 13, and West was 8. The four of us where just at a lake in up state New York, my father gave me his watch so he and West could have a contest to see who could hold there breath longer. West came up first, and sat on the edge by me. My mother was floating in the center of the lake on an inflatable chair thing.

I thought I saw the water move, like a large fish or something. I saw a grimy, gray hand came out of the water. My mother screamed, and tried to get the hand off her ankle. More hands and whole shriveled, slimy bodies pulled out of the water, and dragged my mother down. My father too. I grabbed West, and ran, they tried to follow us into the house, but, something amazing happened.