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Blind, Blessed, Black
The second son of the famous Azkaban prisoner, Sirius Black, was born on 14 December 1981. About an hour later, his mother came back to consciousness and the Healers showed her the baby. Angela slowly raised a hand to touch him, then nodded at them to place him next to her and started examining him carefully.
The baby was beautiful. It was very small, of course, and his nails were not fully developed yet – he had been born ten weeks prematurely. But his face had distinct features and Angela saw, surprised, that he resembled her in almost everything. The nose, the mouth, the shape of the eyes – it could not be clearer who his mother was. Somehow, Angela had always thought that the baby would look like Sirius. Maybe it was because Cane resembled him so much.
Her newborn son looked completely healthy; with great relief, Angela realized that he had not been affected by the Cruciatus Curse, to which she had been subjected during her pregnancy. The thought of giving birth to a damaged child had haunted her all the time, but it had not happened this way. Her baby would have a happy life. Both her children would have it. Remus would give it to them.
She was smiling, when Raymond Lupin, who had taken upon himself to take care of her that night, sat next to her bed and took her hand in his palm. His fingers were strong and comforting, and the thoughts of her sons having a life with Remus was so nice… She slowly fell asleep.
Raymond, still holding her hand, was not so sure that her conclusion about the baby being unharmed was true, but he would not tell her that, he would not disturb her last hours. She would never get to know what the truth was, anyway. She would not live long enough to know that.
Little by little, Raymond realized that there was no life left in the hand that he was still holding.
The burial was unostentatious. Only a few people came – not everyone wanted to attend the burial of Sirius Black's wife.
Meanwhile, the baby was still at St. Mungo's, being subjected to a blood transfusion. When he would be recovered enough – which would take at least a few days, - they would subject him to spells that should strengthen his fragile bones. Maybe.
He was a very quiet baby – never crying, never creating problems. Remus named him Julian. From the very beginning, the woman who became responsible for breastfeeding the infant, was Sylvie Lupin – Raymond's wife and Remus' sister in-law. It was a great luck that her baby was only a few months older than Julian, because no other woman wanted to nurse him. Not that Remus had expected them to – the baby was a son of a famous Death Eater and there was something else that was even worse – the rumors about his damages were spreading with amazing speed, exaggerating ceaselessly with each retelling. Remus would not be surprised to hear that Julian had an extra head and was missing an arm.
So, Sylvie and Raymond were the first ones who figured out the next problem with the baby – Julian was completely blind. Which made things even more difficult.
Years later, Julian himself would not call his life difficult – it was all he knew and he could not imagine living in any other way.
He was always a sickly child, exhausted by the alternating treatments of his filthy blood and his bones that were always ready to crumble. He rarely complained, though. He learned how to walk later than most children and he had always to take care not to run into something. He often did so, despite his best efforts. An iron rule in the Lupin household was that no furniture was ever moved and whatever someone took, he had to return it exactly where he had taken it from. Julian's brother, Cane, and the little Morgaine were probably the only children in France who never left their toys lying around.
He needed to be treated regularly – his filthy blood needed to be replaced and his bones had to be strengthened with spells that made him feel like he had been subjected to the Cruciatus. He hated any minute of it and made vehement protestations each time when his parents had to take him to St. Lazarre's – the magical hospital in Paris. Remus and Elise always let him express his loud discontent with the treatment, knowing, as Julian himself knew, that in spite of everything, he would do it. After all, what choice did he have?
His parents always had to fight their desire to spoil him rotten. They never did, because they wanted for him to feel like every other child, despite his blindness, and years later, Julian was very grateful for that. He was never spoilt, but he was always taken care for and that was just fine for him.
His siblings also loved him very much and took care of him and he was grateful for that, too. He sometimes thought how sad it would be, if they avoided him or were ashamed of him, which often happened in families with such children. But Cane and even little Morgaine were no less attentive to him than Remus or Elise and the same could be said about his many cousins on both sides – Uncle Raymond's children and the part-Veela kids from Elise's family. There was not a single child in their close circle who ever made Julian feel different than the rest of them. Only other people did, but hey, practically everyone in his family was different in one way or another. A werewolf, a half-Veela, a quarter-Veela, and a Metamorphmagus hardly made the most conventional family in the world, but Julian would never change them for anyone. He was blessed, actually.
His family… It was strange to think that Cane was the only one who was truly related to him. He thought of Remus and Elise as his parents and called them that. He was sure that Cane felt the same way, but the words never came out of his brother's mouth. Without asking, Julian knew the reason: Cane still held some vague memories of their real parents and could not bring himself call other people this way. Julian considered himself the luckier of the two of them in this respect: Elise and Remus were the only parents he knew. He had never met Angela or Sirius Black. He had no hesitations.
He would never tell this to anyone, but sometimes he had mixed feelings for his brother. He loved him, of course, but sometimes it was just too hard to be Cane's Black little brother. Cane was amusing and daring; he had the rare gift of being a Metamorphmagus; he was brilliant in his classes and on his broom. No one dared to come across his way. Julian could never match this, partly because of his condition. It was hard to pull brilliant pranks on the other people, or ride a broomstick, if you are blind. People always sounded so surprised, when they realized that Cane and Julian were related, as if they were unable to comprehend how it was possible for Mr Perfect to have a brother like Julian. Damaged. Blind. Clumsy.
Everyone admired Cane. If Julian could have a knut each time when he heard someone exclaim 'O, he's so funny, this Cane Black', or a girl whispering 'I'd like him just to look at me. Oh, why doesn't he look at me?', he could feed every pauper in Paris. Obviously, Cane was considered very handsome and that was something that Julian could not understand. How was it able for anyone to judge a person because how he looked like? Julian had lived without looking at other people for years and he was doing just fine, so surely appearance could not be that important?
Someone knew, though. They had never spoken about that, but Julian could tell that Anath Lupin, his best friend, knew how he felt about his brother. Because she felt the same way about her sister. It was not easy to be the younger one and usually they handled it well. And yet, there were times when Julian could not stop thinking 'What need does Cane have of a younger, blind brother?'
With Morgaine, everything was easier. He adored her. Simply and brilliant.
He could tell it from a mile when people who he was being introduced, knew about his relation to the imprisoned traitor. Even in France, there were people who knew who Julian and Cane were and Julian immediately felt it. The lack of eyesight had made his other senses sharper than those of the other people. The signs were unmistakable – the slight change in the people's voices, the greedy curiosity, the fear and resentment or worse, pity, that touched their very tone, despite their efforts to hide it. Julian hated to think what it would be, if they lived in England.
What he hated more than that was the reaction he got when people realized that he was blind. They reacted as if he was disabled or contagious, or both. He had to get used to it, so he did. He preferred people being rude than too attentive, though. After all, no one could say anything, if he cursed the git who had just offended him, but it was hard to hex people who were so kind that they would not let him cut his own meat for fear that he would hurt himself. No one stopped to consider the fact that he had been taking care of himself for ages without wounding himself mortally… and without their kind help. He was not anyone's bloody pet!
The best years in his life were the earliest ones, when there was no grief, no pity, no contempt. No one knew that his father was a werewolf. Morgaine was still talking. His mother was still alive. And they were happy. They were a family.
Nothing was the same, after his mother died. Nothing. Morgaine got mute, Cane went mad – well, he was not really mad, but he behaved as if he was, and in Julian's opinion that was the same thing, - and his father was heartbroken. Julian often lied in bed and wished that he had dreamed it all, that he would wake up to his mother's voice and everything would be the same. Unfortunately, he woke up to the same nightmare that he had dreamed of.
He realized that Tonks fancied his father when one day the conversation had turned to his mother and Tonks had laughed and said that she had been heartbroken at Remus and Elise's wedding, because she had always thought that she herself would marry Remus, when she grew up. The others had laughed, too, at the silly dreams of an eight-years old girl, but Julian had felt in her voice something that the others had missed. He had always been good with reading voices and he realized that it was something more than a simple joke.
Tonks was good for his father. She could never be good enough for them – no one would ever be, except for Elise, but she was good for his father and that was enough for Julian.
When Sirius escaped, Julian was just starting Beauxbatons – the most unfortunate timing for him. He had never been so close to so many other kids at the same time… and he had never been more mocked and hexed in his life. The other children seemed to think that making Sirius Black's son's life as miserable as possible was making them heroes or something. He could hardly make a step without being tripped, thrown down, hit with some curse or something like that. The face that he had yet to get accustomed to his new surrounding, where there was a staircase and where there was a wall did not make it easier. The others found it amusing to place some objects on his way and watch as he walked straight into them. These adventures led him to the nursery almost every other day.
Julian never asked Cane for help – his brother had too many problems of his own, with the two Aurors who were constantly following him around and his increasing nervousness. But even if Cane was in his best shape, Julian would never ask him for help. The torment of his classmates was something that he had to deal with by himself. And he did – little by little, he learned some hexes and curses that made the others leave him alone. Once he had got used to the disposition of the rooms at Beauxbatons, it became harder for everyone to make him trip or walk into a wall. Soon, he was so good with his wand that his classmates started fearing him. Sirius' reputation as a brutal murderer also helped… and so did Julian best friends, Andre Lerois and Anath Lupin. It was okay for him to accept their help – they were his friends, not his big brother.
Then, at the first day after the end of the school year, his father made him and Cane sit down and told them about Sirius – how he was innocent, how he had been framed and so on. And while Julian felt the distant sympathy that you feel when you hear of a stranger who had suffered from injustice, this news only made Cane's hatred of Sirius grow stronger. Julian could not explain this, but Cane always seemed to feel a strange mix of love and hatred for his father. The news that he had not been the Potters' Secret Keeper had, for some reason, made the hatred prevail. And yet, there was something like hurt behind all that. Julian did not like to see – well, hear – Cane hurt.
He liked Sirius Black. He could be so amusing at some moments, and he knew how to make his father laugh. Very few people were able to do that after Julian's mother had died, and he couldn't help but like Sirius for that.
There was a long time before he became attached to him, though, and start liking him because of Sirius himself.
But from the moment they met, he was intrigued from the pain that leaked from Sirius' voice, when he was talking to Cane. Cane never seemed to notice it and apparently, no one else did, except, maybe, for Julian's father. But Julian could feel it, it was always there. Pain – and a desperate longing.
Maybe it was better that Cane did not know, because even if he did, he wouldn't – couldn't – give Sirius what he wanted.
Julian did not especially like Harry Potter. Not that he hated him or anything – he neither liked nor disliked him. He was quite angry with him for his jealousy of both Julian and Cane. It was well disguised, but Julian could feel it. It was not their fault that his precious godfather had missed to tell him that he was not the only star in the sky, that he had sons of his own. And if eyesight was so important, couldn't Harry see that neither Julian not Cane wanted Sirius? They had Remus; they would gladly hand Sirius to Harry with a pink ribbon around his neck!
All that did not mean that Julian did not pity Harry Potter. It must be awful to be despised by your own family. But all in all, he did not have much time to think of Harry Potter – he had other things to occupy his mind with, like finding out why Anath Lupin was behaving so strangely sometimes. He tried to ask her directly what the problem was, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge that there was something wrong, like she thought there was a chance that he would believe her! Julian was blind, not stupid, and he had known her since they were at their cribs. Her voice sounded fully sometimes and she could not convince him that it did not.
He practically missed almost the whole second war against Voldemort – he spent it at Beauxbatons and that was just fine for his father. A blind boy could not be of great use to anyone, but he did what he could. And yet, he felt the consequences very sharply, while they were struggling to continue their life without Remus. It was a hell.
Returning to Beauxbatons for the new school year helped – he and Morgaine took some comfort at the thought that there was at least something that had not changed. Busied with his classes, his homework, his practices, there were sometimes whole hours when he did not think about his father. And then he would master some new spell, or hear a new theory that he found fascinating, and he would think, "I must tell Dad about this," and the pain would come back.
At least, now he knew what was wrong with Anath. When Morgaine told him, he simply refused to believe her. "She does not like me this way," he said.
"Oh, but she does," his sister assured him.
"No." Julian firmly refused to let this happen to him.
"Yes."
Julian was terrified. What would happen, if Morgaine was right? He did not like Anath this way; this could put an end to the longest friendship he had experienced in his life. He had to prevent this from happening; he had to make Anath realize that it was not right. It just wasn't.
So he was very surprised, when he somehow heard his own voice suggesting that the two of them should go out the next weekend. Just the two of them. "Like friends. I mean – "
Anath laughed. "I know what you mean, silly," she said. "I'd love to come with you."
And so, the next weekend he was ready – just taken a shower, wearing the jeans that the house elves had just returned to his dormitory washed and dry, just combed his hair. Not that he wanted to impress her, of course.
"So," Morgaine announced from the door, "we are here."
Julian almost gritted his teeth. He had recognized the three set of steps. He had expected that Morgaine would come to see them off – she could not resist seeing her suspicions confirmed or denied, - but Andre?
"Hello everyone," he said neutrally. "Anath, are you ready?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good. Now, come – " he started, and then suddenly stopped. Something made him turn to where the other two were staying. "How does she look like?" he asked.
"Very nice," Morgaine answered immediately. "She wears a white blouse and a yellow skirt, her hair is – "
"I was not asking you," her brother interrupted her. "You are a girl. Andre?"
"Well, she looks like – " Here, Andre's words left him and he only said, "Wow!"
Julian grinned. "I think it's time for us to go," he said and took his stick in one hand. "Here, you walk at my side," he told Anath. "Here."
"Why?" Her voice sounded surprised.
"Because I want everyone to envy me."
"But why?" she repeated.
He shrugged. "Everyone envies a boy with a beautiful girl," he said.
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