The story that I have been told indicates that the first year of my life was a happy one. I had loving parents, who doted on their first child, and equally attentive extended family, and wanted for nothing. I know that we lived in London, in a tidy brick row two blocks from the ministry. I have seen pictures of a pretty baby, always in someone's arms, laughing at the antics of the adults around her.
The world, however, was becoming a very dangerous place. Voldemort's followers adopted the name Death Eater; they donned stark, featureless white masks and wore heavy black robes. When one of them came for you, it might have been any one of them, perhaps even Voldemort, himself. Witches and Wizards began disappearing, stolen from the beds in the dark of night. Most of those who were lost came from pureblood families but had married half-bloods or muggleborns. James and Lily Potter became worried that they would soon become targets as well.
Two months before my first birthday, the family went into hiding in the quiet village of Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore had learned that the Death Eaters were seeking James. What none of them realized was that Voldemort was not hunting them, as he had so many other blood traitors. Voldemort was seeking out James Potter because he was in possession of something that the Dark Lord wanted very much – namely, a daughter, born as the seventh month died, whose parents had thrice defied him.
The Black Library was not typically a place that one would look for Sirius Black. Considering he had been blasted off the family tapestry in his school days, Sirius had not set foot in Grimmauld Place at all for nearly ten years. But Walburga Black, his mother, had finally died two years ago, over the "heart ache" of losing her "favorite" son.
'As if that woman had ever had a heart to begin with,' Sirius thought bitterly to himself. She hadn't shown any interest in Regulus until she thought it could be used to guilt Sirius into returning home. "Good riddance to bad rubbish."
Luckily, the old buzzard hadn't had time to curse too much of the place. Sirius was still Head of the Family, after all, so it wasn't as if the blood wards would keep him out. Not that his mother hadn't tried, of course, to disinherit him. But when Sirius's father had died, he had been just a boy, and his title as Heir had not at the time been questioned. Walburga may have been a Black, but she was merely the daughter of a second son of the Moste Noble House, and had no power whatsoever in the magic that governed the Family Heritage. And so, the gloomy townhouse was his, in all its dark glory. At least that miserable old elf had gone to serve his eldest cousin, Bellatrix.
"Nasty little bugger. Never liked him anyhow."
"Who, Paddy?"
"Kreacher."
"Oh. Have you found it yet?"
"No."
"Back to work then."
"Slave driver," Sirius muttered.
"I heard that, mutt."
"Damned bloody werewolf with his damned bloody hearing," he grumbled in reply. He heard his friend bark out a laugh. Sirius went back to the shelf before him. He still had no idea what Lily wanted with the old diary of Great Aunt Ophelia. The old bat had died nearly three centuries before – who cared about her now? Of course, Sirius remembered having to read her "memoir," and those of every other Black who had thought themselves important enough to leave a history behind to torment their descendants with. So, pretty much all of them.
The only thing that Sirius could honestly remember about any of them were the names (which were so often repeated that if you just guessed, most of the time you'd be correct) and that all of the Blacks were, to some extent or another, completely insane. He had kept this thought to himself during his history lessons.
At the back of the uppermost shelf, he found it. A small tome, as Black memoirs went, in blue leather. At first glance, it looked as if the leather bindings would crumble with age, but it was solid in his hands. Thank Merlin for magic.
Sirius leapt off the ladder. He was at the very back of the library, and it was a bit of a maze back to the main part of the room. The library did take up most of the second floor; Sirius was just glad that he hadn't had to search any of the heirloom cupboards… he was quite sure that many of the items collected by his relatives over the centuries were not of the light, fun-loving variety.
"Got it," he called, emerging from the shelves. Remus sat at the large ebony desk, stacks of books and rolls of parchment nearly obscuring his friend from view. Lily came from another row of shelves, carrying yet more ancient volumes. She deposited her stack on the table, and reached for the proffered Dairy of Ophelia Black. She examined the cover, and, once satisfied, began thumbing through the pages.
"What is it that we're looking for, again?"
"Prophecies concerning the Dark Lord," Remus replied, looking up for a moment.
"And that is important because why?"
"Because he's looking for them," Lily replied. "Dumbledore's man says that the Dark Lord is searching for a prophecy that mentions a red-eyed snake. For now, he knows only that it concerns the Voldemort, but not the wording of the prophecy itself." She pulled out a chair, sat at the desk and reached for one of the rolls of parchment. "If we can find it first, we'll be able to keep the knowledge from getting into the wrong hands."
"But we don't even know what the bloody thing says. It could predict that old Voldie is going to get a new pair of wooly socks at Christmas." Both of his friends shot Sirius a withering look. "All right, all right. If he can't find this thing, though, then how are we supposed to?"
"By reading through every prophecy recorded at the Hall in the Ministry or in any other, unauthorized collections." This from Remus. He gestured at the table before them, "And the Blacks have one of the most extensive, private archives in all of Europe. There have been many Seers in your family, Padfoot. Maybe one of them recorded the one that we're after."
"Isn't it likely, then, that a bunch of Death Eaters are due to arrive on my doorstep?"
"They can't enter the house without your permission, Sirius," Lily replied. She was giving him the "Madam Pince" look – the one that told him he had asked a question that a five year old could have answered. "You're Head of the House of Black – not even your cousins can cross the threshold without your welcome."
"Good to know," Sirius replied. He wished that he'd paid a bit more attention when his father had explained the blood wards. But then, he'd always thought that he would have plenty of time to learn his duties as heir. He could not have known that his father would die, that his mother would lose what was left of her sanity, or that he would run away from home at the age of thirteen.
"How much longer are we going to be here?"
"Sirius!" Lily cried in an exasperated tone. "You're a four year old, I swear!" Across from her, Remus was shaking with laughter.
"But I'm hungry. We've been here three hours already," he whinged.
"Then go and get something to eat, for Merlin's sake."
Sirius gave her a petulant look, and flounced into the remaining chair. He grabbed the nearest book and flicked it open with wide, exaggerated movements.
"I'll just starve then." Remus snorted, but Lily shot him a looked and he returned to his notes, mirth gone.
They all sat silently then, only the occasional turn of a page to be heard. The clock in the hall struck two more hours.
Sirius moved to the middle of the book in his hands. It was yet another Black diary.
'14th September,' he read, 'Weather particularly warm for this time of year. Mayhap the north pasture will yield another row of crops. Must speak with groundskeeper about the possibilities.'
'Merlin, this is dull,' Sirius thought. He fought down a yawn and flicked forward a few more pages.
'21st November. Dearest Cousin Ophelia came to visit. Had a lovely tea in the garden. She brings news from London. What exciting things going on in that town!I have insisted that she come visit me during summer as well – there have been many sicknesses in Town the past few summers.'
Sirius did yawn, then. He turned the page, skimming over the journal entries. He was about to put the diary up and check another, when something caught his eye.
'21st December. Ophelia still here, but must leave in the morning. Most unusual. I wonder if it has something to do with last evening? At dinner, she had a Vision, something about a snake and a lion. Sounded dreadful. Poor dear didn't want to speak of it afterward. What a burden such a gift must be. Still, only a four week visit. I hope to convince her to stay until Michaelmas.'
"Where's Ophelia's diary?" Sirius asked, looking up. Remus passed it to him.
"Did you find something?" Lily asked, curious.
"Maybe."
He flipped through the pages, looking for the nearest date.
'22nd Dec. I have Seen something most frightening. Wonder what Master Goodwin will make of it. I record what I remember:
'A great snake, with garnet eyes, swallows England. But the snake takes too much, and is immobile, weighed down by its gorged belly. A black lioness appears. It tears open the snake's belly, freeing the people of England. And then, most strangely, the lioness licks at the wound, and heals the snake. The lioness glows with light, a green star over her head, and the snake must follow her.
'Another snake appears, poisonous green, and means to harm the red-eyed snake and swallow England for itself. The lioness roars, and the red-eyed snake mounts her back. A great battle begins.
'Then, I See a phoenix. If the phoenix kills the red-eyed snake, the green snake will swallow England, then Europe, then the whole world. If the phoenix flies with the lioness and her snake, the world will be bathed in light. The red-eyed snake shall wear a crown and rule over all worlds.'
Sirius stared at the page, rereading the words once, then twice more.
"I've found it," he said, then read the passage aloud.
"So the red-eyed snake is Voldemort," Remus said. "This leaves three other figures in the vision: the lioness, the phoenix, and the green snake."
"Dumbledore might be the phoenix," Lily said. "But the lioness seems to be the most important."
"Not a great the best choice of futures," Remus mused. "Voldemort destroys England. Or, he finds the lioness, and he rules the world."
"What difference does it really make, then," Sirius said. "Voldemort ruling the world is the same thing as destroying it."
"Not necessarily, Sirius. Ruling implies that there is some kind of world left to govern. Destruction is death to everything. It is a fine line, but there is a difference."
"All right, Moony. But say that Dumbledore is our phoenix. He would have to side with Voldemort. How could anyone, let alone the leader of the Light, side with someone who murders innocent people because of their heritage? Do you really see that happening?"
Remus sighed. "No, you're right."
"But if the phoenix kills the red-eyed snake," Lily said, "the green one destroys the world anyway. It's two paths to the same fate."
"Not necessarily –"
"No, Moony, Lily's right."
"Look at this, though," Remus insisted, snatching the diary from Sirius's hands. "The snakes follows the lioness. The lioness is the key player, not Voldemort. The phoenix flies with the lioness, not the snake."
"The lioness would have to be someone extremely powerful to make a follower out of the Dark Lord," Lily said. "More powerful than he is, more powerful than Dumbledore even."
"Why then is the red-eyed snake the one who wears the crown? Why not the lioness?"
They all thought a moment, trying to work out the riddle.
The floo came to life then, startling them all. James Potter stepped out of the emerald flames holding a dark haired bundle to his chest.
"It's okay, Harri," he was saying, rubbing circles into his daughters back.
"Is she all right?" Lily asked, immediately on her feet, reaching for her child.
"Fine, fine. She just doesn't like the floo." James kissed his wife on the cheek before handing over his cargo. "How's the super-secret research going?"
Sirius opened his mouth to reply but Lily beat him to it.
"You know we can't talk about it, James. Dumbledore's orders."
"Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He walked over to his friends. "They workin' you to death, Padfoot?"
"You know it. That wife of yours is going to starve me to death."
Lily ignored him, cooing at her daughter. The babe made sweet little giggling responses.
"How's the cub?"
"Terrific – other than her floo rides, of course. Took her to Hogwarts so that Poppy could do her six months shots. She was very brave, didn't cry at all." James smiled proudly at this.
"She is our little Gryffindor to be," Sirius said, "Of course she's brave. Never met one of us lions that wasn't."
"Bravery and recklessness are close relatives," Remus said. "Some of us exhibit the former. Others, considerably more of the latter."
"I'm not reckless," Sirius protested. Both of his friends looked at each other and then burst into laughter. "I'm not! Lily, tell them I'm not!"
The other two just laughed harder. Sirius looked over at the red-head for help. But she was staring at Harri with a most peculiar expression. Actually, he thought that she looked a bit peaky.
"Oh, I needed that, Paddy, I really did," James said, clapping a hand to his friend's back, wiping tears from his eyes. "What do you say we go get some food? My treat."
"Sweetest words to have ever come out of that mouth," Sirius replied, turning his eyes away from Lily.
"Lils, you mind if I steal your slaves for a bit?"
"Sure," she replied, face normal once again. "I'll work better without the whinging." She smiled as she said it.
"I do not whinge," Sirius stated, indignant. A whole new round of laughter began, and the other two dragged their friend away to amid much protesting. Once glance back at the library showed Lily, holding her daughter close, pulling the blue diary back to her.
A/N: After much deliberation, I have decided that the chapter that I originally intended needs to be broken into two parts. Look for the next one here in a day or two.
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