Disclaimer: All credit for Harry Potter goes to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 2
Sirius Black stood in the rain, staring furiously at the building at which he just dropped his dead friend's daughter off. It was early June of the year 1981 and the war against Voldemort had been long and hard and many good people had been lost.
Sirius, before he could charge back and take back the little girl, turned on his heel. Apparating into Hogsmede village, he quickly made his way up to the castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He moved quickly through the castle, only pausing to impatiently wait for the gargoyle to respond to the given password. Reaching the top of the stairs, Sirius slammed his way into the Headmaster's office to see a furious James and Lily there with Harry sleeping in his mother's arms.
"So it is done."
Sirius turned from his best friends and godson to glare at the man who'd spoken. The half-moon spectacles sat on a long, slightly bent nose, the blue eyes that usually sparkles, were dimmed with sadness and regret. The long silver beard and hair glinted in the light from the fireplace and candles.
"But why, Albus?" James Potter asked furiously, but kept his voice down for the sake of his sleeping son. "Why send Nyxia to a muggle orphanage when her godparents are alive? Lily and I are perfectly capable of taking in. Why send their daughter to live alone, separated from the world she should know, and loveless?"
"Because that is where she will be safest." Albus Dumbledor said quietly. "You, yourselves aren't exactly in the safest position, being hunted by Voldemort."
"Yes, but why that place?" Lily asked. "It isn't the best orphanage in Surrey. I've heard of it. The director is a sour woman who hates children and only runs an orphanage for the money she receives from the muggle government."
Sirius' fury grew as he listened to Lily's statement. He rounded on Dumbledor.
"You made me take her daughter to that place knowing full-well she'd be ill-treated?" His voice was low, quiet… and deadly. James blanched a little and shared a look with his wife.
"Padfoot, calm down, we will do what we can." He said, taking a step between his best friend and Dumbledore. Sirius looked at James for a few moments before taking a deep breath. And another, and then another, and then collapse to his knees and dropped his face into his hands and began to cry.
"Cassy… Cassy… Cassiopia…."
A tear dropped from Lily's eye as her best friend's name became a mantra in their ears. James kneeled beside his grieving friend, a hand resting on Sirius' shoulder, and looked up at Dumbledor who sadly shook his head.
The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sighed sadly and started into the fire and listened as Sirius continued to call his younger sister's name as if it would bring her back.
Elsewhere, Severus Snape stood in front of his mirror in his home, the guilt of yet another kill seeping into his bones. The Dark Lord had sent him and a group of Death Eaters to hunt down and kill Cassiopeia Black Kitsune and her husband Hyuga Kitsune.
"A stab at their moral, you could say." The cold voice of the Dark Lord rung through Snape's mind as he thought back to when he received the order from Voldemort.
"We destroy young Sirius Black's dear little sister and her husband, orphaning their little girl, we take down their moral as she is one of their better fighters." Voldemort chuckled coldly.
"If I may, My Lord, why allow the child to live?" Lucius Malfoy asked, stepping forward slightly.
"Why, Lucius, to show that we can be merciful." Voldemort said, still chuckling coldly at his devious plot to weaken the Order's mentality.
Snape had been sent with Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, her husband, Rookwood, and a few others. The fight lasted almost a full half hour; the Dar Lord had been right, Cassy Kitsune was one of the Order's best fighters.
He turned away from the mirror, disgusted. It wasn't making the kill that guilted him so, Snape fumed to himself as he poured a glass of firewhiskey, it was the fact that one of the people who'd be deeply affected by the woman's death was… No, he wouldn't think of her name, wouldn't think of her as she grieved for her lost friend, wouldn't think of her as she clung to him as he comforted her.
"Damn!" Snape swore, then slammed down the liqueur and chucked the glass as hard as he could across the room. However, the shatter of glass against stone did little to ease his anger, his envy, his pain, or his guilt.
Four months later, tragedy struck again.
