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Driven to Freedom

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations owned by JK Rowling and publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury. No copyright infringement is intended or to be infered.


Word Count: 445


Driven to Freedom


“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?†Sirius Black said admiringly, his eyes caressing.


“How do you know it’s a she?†asked James Potter, a look of perplexity crossing his face as he scratched the back of his head.


“Well, because….†Sirius stalled, unsure of how it was that he could determine gender by looking at it. “Well, she looks like a she, doesn’t she?â€


“I still don’t get you,†Remus Lupin added, hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted to the side. “You can’t tell. Anyways, it’s an inanimate object; it doesn’t have a…a gender.†He gave his friend a sideways look, seemingly assessing his sanity.


Sirius groaned in frustration. “She’s a girl. There’s no question about it, end of discussion.†He gave the chrome handlebars a pat, leaning his weight against its seat. “Do you think that I would be so stupid as to not know what I’m getting?â€


“Well, actually, Padfoot,†Peter Pettigrew began, but was cut off by a death glare from the gray-eyed man.


“So who’s going for the first ride with me?†Sirius asked immediately as he swung his leg over the seat. “Remus?†The man shook his head swiftly, clearly not trusting what was going to happen. “Peter? James?â€


The messy-haired man nodded, and climbed on behind Sirius as the engine began to roar. “You may want to hold on,†he called over the din of the bike. “It’d be…wise, mate.â€


“Do you have any idea how queer that would look, though?†James retorted, leaning back to avoid touching his friend.


Sirius shrugged. “It’ll be your head, then.â€


With that, the motorcycle took off with an incredible burst of speed, instantly lifting off the ground. James was flung back, nearly toppling off, but clung to the back of Sirius’s jacket just in time to steady himself.


“It flies!†he cried in utter shock, glancing down to the ground where the miniscule figures of Remus and Peter stood, staring skyward, a shell-shocked expression on their faces. James let out a brisk laugh, pumping a fist into the air. His grin was only beaten by the one that was slowly spreading across Sirius’s face as he silently marveled at the ability of the machine.


It was freedom. It was relief. It was everything that he had lusted after for the many years of his life that he was trapped in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. There were no words to describe the feeling he had; it was too great of a combination of what was joy and surprise and longing for more.


And he flew among the clouds, knowing that in his hands, he held the handlebars of freedom.

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