The scent of lavender. It meant only one thing. Danger! He was up and running in an instant. He had to move fast. The scent on the wind might have given him a head start but she was spry for her age. Spry and deadly. Cracky slice of life. T for language.

ABANDONED! In the days of the Boy Who Lived, to be Slytherin was to be loathed. Few had any clue what it meant to be Pure. Those privileged few who lived in a world of edges and blades, where a single misstep could mean death. The Purebloods. Pity them.

ONESHOT This is just a short glimpse into what lay behind Sirius's devilmaycare life. And yes, I do know that the title is rather pathetic. Rated PG.