A/N: So, this is my first story in quite a while. This particular story has NO RELATION to my other stories, and should be viewed as its own, separate story, NOT an extension of the "Love Always" universe.
It was late when the dark figure materialized on the doorstep of a small flat with a loud pop. Said figure knocked loudly, three times, on the door. A few moments later, a grumbling, dark haired man opened the door. His eyes widened, almost comically, as the figure swept inside. The dark figure now stood, hood down, surveying the little living room of the flat with scorn.
"Here? You've chosen to leave your ancestral home and break your parents' hearts to live here?" His voice was incredulous. The man who lived in the flat sighed, biting back harsh words.
"Yes, Grandfather," was his only reply.
"And that Sinclaire woman, she's here too?"
The other man's hands curled into fists at the mention of his lover.
"Yes, Grandfather," he managed to grind out. It was a miracle he was even able to say anything at all, with how tightly his jaw was clenched.
"Your father, if he was still with us, would be most displeased. But no matter. That is not what I came here to discuss. With the passing of your father, and, more recently, your brother, it is my solemn duty to inform you that you are now the Heir to the House Black. My congratulations, Sirius. I hope you do not shame us."
With that, Arcturus Black swept from his grandson's home, leaving a lightening-struck Sirius Black behind him.
Sirius sat down, numb. He was the Heir to House Black. The one position he had strived to avoid, all these years, and now, it was handed to him, despite all he had done. All he could think of, in that moment, was the fact that Hesper would be very pleased at this turn of events. She always was the political one.
That very same evening, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, fell, and with him, the Noble House Potter.
It was an enraged Sirius that apparated to Godric's Hollow that night. By his side, where she could always be found, was Hesper Sinclaire, one hand resting on her swollen stomach. Sirius took in the horrible sight before him.
The little cottage was in shambles, burn marks marring the walls of the living room where they stood. It was a blessing that Dorea Potter would never see her favorite little house in such a state.
Hesper and Sirius stood and stared, not daring to believe what this would mean. Then Sirius caught sight of the figure crumpled by the stairs, glasses askew and hair as messy as it had been in life.
"James…" he whispered.
Hesper quietly made her way up the stairs, leaving Sirius to grieve in peace. She knew what she would find. And she was not mistaken. Lying on the floor of the nursery, hair spread in a fiery halo, was Lily Potter, her green eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
Lily, the fiery Gryffindor that everyone had loved, lay dead before her. Hesper could not wrap her head around that fact. The girl with whom she had shared such a fierce competition in school, who had grown into the woman James Potter had so adored, her best friend, her closest confidante. Dead.
Hesper raised a hand to her mouth, feeling as though she was going to be sick. She might have been, too, if it wasn't for a soft wail coming from the overturned crib. She skirted the body of her best friend, and went to pick up her little godson. She held the little boy in her arms, rocking him softly. She carefully bent to retrieve his stuffed dog, his favorite toy, and gave it to him. Harry tucked the dog under one arm and buried his face in the crook of Hesper's neck.
Tears in her eyes, she made her way out of the room, still holding the last remaining Potter, careful not to let him see his mother's body.
When she reached the end of the stairs, she saw that Sirius was nowhere to be found. Fear welled up in her heart, and she called out to him, desperation and panic coloring her tone.
"Sirius!"
She half-ran from the living room to the open front door. There he was, standing out on the lawn, head tilted back, and eyes focused on the stars, tears running down his cheeks.
"Sirius," she repeated, her voice softer now. He didn't respond, didn't stop staring at the sky.
"Sirius," she said again, this time laying a hand on his arm, shifting Harry to her hip.
"Pafoo," the little boy said, reaching his free hand towards Sirius. Sirius' eyes widened and his breath quickened. He practically snatched the little boy from Hesper's arms. He cradled Harry against his chest, holding him tight. Hesper smiled, a sad little smile.
"Harry, Harry, Harry…"
Sirius was repeating the boy's name as if it was some sort of spell that would keep him here, in Sirius' arms, forever. Hesper took Sirius' cheek in her hand, finally gaining his attention.
"We have to get Harry out of here, Sirius."
The dark-haired man nodded. With a crack, the trio disappeared from the scene of the tragedy.
A/N: More to come soon!