Chapter two
Boney Bones
It felt later than it actually was; they had been in the pub no more than thirty minutes, at the most, yet it felt as if hours had past. Sirius had parked the motorcycle in the back alley of the pub—good idea—because no one could see them there, but they did hear Edgar Bones inside, loudly swearing while Tom, the barkeeper, explained why he was no longer welcomed there. James stood next to the motorcycle waiting for Sirius to collect his thoughts and express, in no uncertain terms, none of it was true. He had expected Sirius would turn around before leaving through the backdoor and scream with laughter, "Edgar and I pulled a good one on you, mate." That did not happen and no one was laughing.
James felt strangely scared; a deep shakiness in his knees that he could not stop, nor liked. He had felt this way once before on the night his mother passed-away, and he loathed feeling fearful. "Padfoot," he began in a low voice, carefully choosing what he would say next, "is it true?"
It was difficult to see in the dark alley, but Sirius had tears in his eyes, and yet he hid them from James' view. "She told me I wasn't the father," said Sirius somberly. "I suppose Edgar was told something to the contrary."
"Why didn't you speak up?" James demanded, his voice growing in volume. "At the very least, why didn't you fill-in all the blanks for the man. I asked—I distinctly remember asking you at the front door, were you two on bad terms? I felt you wasn't being honest. Edgar wants to kill you . . . and forget using a wand . . . he wants to kill you with HIS BARE HANDS!"
Sirius sat down on a stack of dirty crate several feet away the motorcycle and stared down at the alleyway's broken, chipped-away, bricks; his face drained of blood and hands shaking. He did not answer at once, but ignored James' anger. "He did give it a good go," he said, rubbing his neck, now visually bruised. "Anyone can see the man has big hands, but you never really know how big until they're wrapped around your neck." Sirius glanced over at the motorcycle; it, too, seemed to be staring at him awaiting an explanation. "I knew Edgar wouldn't take the news well," he said, still looking at the motorcycle as though the conversation was between him and it. "I'm actually surprise it took this long."
When his gaze finally turned to James' face, he found it etched with disappointment. James felt sick from the fear lingering inside his body; he had not eaten dinner yet, and with each passing minute believed he would soon vomit. Never had he been so quick to duel a wizard in the defense of someone who might not deserve protection.
"So, you're saying, you knew . . . you knew!" yelled James.
Sirius groaned; the sound a whimpering pup makes. "I've gone over every single detail," he said. "Counted all the times Cassandra and I were together, checked them against a calendar, questioned all the reasons she would lie."
"Who's the liar . . . you or her?"
"I haven't lied."
"Hang on . . . she broke it off with you months ago . . . how far along is she?"
"Not sure," said Sirius flatly. "I noticed the weight gain before the break-up, but when I confronted her with my suspicions that's when she said it's was over between us. If I had to guess, five, maybe six months into her pregnancy . . . she and Lily should deliver near the same time."
"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN," shouted James, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? IS THIS TRULY THE TYPE OF MAN YOU ARE?"
Sirius shook his head, and then covered his face with his hands. "You aren't listening to me."
"I'm listening!" yelled James, pacing up and down the alleyway. "I can't believe you would . . . that you would. . . ."
"Take Boney Bones into my bed." Sirius supplied dully. "Yeah, a few times, and don't look at me like that, James. I know what you're thinking, and yeah, there's a strong possibility—an overwhelming one—she's carrying my child. . . I admit it, but what was I suppose to do at the time—twist her arm? Make her tell me the truth then force her to marry me? Everyone is so quick to blame the guy. No one cares to hear what he has to say, or his take on what happened. It's his entire fault, he took advantage, and men such as Black require only one thing from women."
James was stunned. He could not recall Sirius ever admitting to any transgressions. Even the one incident which almost caused the dead of another classmate was all fun and games in Sirius' eyes, and when it was discovered he had purposely led Severus Snape to where Remus Lupin lay in his werewolf state, the fault rested solely on Snape for sticking his abnormally large nose where it did not belong.
"That's not what I was thinking," James lied, "not exactly, I stopped referring to Cassandra as Boney Bones when you started dating her—and obviously doing more than just dating.
Sirius smirked appreciatively. "You didn't make-love to Lily before the two of you were married?"
James felt himself go red, and slowly shook his head—no. "The thought did cross our minds, but it seemed more important that we wait."
Sirius nodded, and then looked up at the night sky; stars were now becoming more apparent.
"Do you think you were under the spell of a love potion?" asked James. "No offense, mate, but your sudden interest in her did look weird, and I'm not the only one who thought so, even Moony remarked . . . 'there goes a pair as opposite as dragons and owls'."
"It's true, we didn't have much in common, however it started, I was fully aware of my attraction to her years before we left Hogwarts . . . Perhaps, deep down, I was embarrassed, but I've never been with any woman with such determination," he said sadly. "I can't explain why she persuaded me, or why I agreed. She felt it was imperative that we . . . you know . . . make-love, if it can be referred to as love, because she didn't love me, nor I her . . . But now, I hate her for what she's done, and I hate myself."
James sat next to Sirius on the wooden crates and placed one arm around the man's shoulders; Sirius had begun crying halfway through his closing argument, and here was another first—Sirius Black crying. "I won't deny my child if he or she should one day come looking for me," he whimpered. "I don't know any quick fixes or easy answers."
The Knight Bus deposited a drunken Edgar Bones on the corner of Oakley Avenue and March Square, two blocks from his home. He staggered and stumbled his way along, bumping into a tree here and there which he tipped his hat and begged forgiveness. He accidently stumbled over a waist-high, picket, fence that alarmed a dog. He lifted his wand to the dog but the animal merely stared at him somewhat amused. "Sorry mate," he said to the dog, reaching for his hat that tumbled to the lawn when he fell. "May I trouble you for directions . . . it looks as though I've wandered too far?" The dog moved closer and sniffed the man's shoes. Edgar stumbled backwards two steps. "Don't mind those," he said, gaining his balance. "I experienced nausea on the ride home . . . a wee-bit landed on my shoe . . . that's the reason why the driver put me out here in the middle of nowhere . . . angry over the sick, I reckon."
Of course, there was no reply from the dog; only the sounds of traffic from a neighboring street. "Well, I'll just be on my way now, sorry to have bothered you," said Edgar, throwing a leg over the fence, and then turned in the same direction from which he had just traveled, waving goodnight to the dog.
A pale yellowish light shun through a window of the Bones' modest little house; from the outside it looked no more than a shack, but inside was a spacious five bedroom house complete with 3 bathrooms. Cassandra Bones, the eldest of three children, curled up on the sofa with what she proclaimed an excellent book. She was not the type to purchase, or read, what Flourish and Blotts recommended on their best sellers list; her desire centered on the macabre. This was not unusual, by any stretch of the imagination, the shelves of Flourish and Blotts were spilling over with bloodcurdling tales, hair-rising chronicles, and horrifying adventures; however, the average young witch don't purchase these gory books, and this, among various other things, made Cassandra Bones highly unusual.
"Accio." Two cushions floated steadily to Cassandra and hovered before dropping in her lap. She positioned one cushion at the small of her back and the other behind her head, and began skimming over the thirteen chapters of Death Omens—When You Know the Worse Is Coming; stopping on page 97 subtitled, The stars are aligned. She gathered up her thick blonde hair which obstructed her view, then paused to read: '. . . reframe from conceiving a child whom birth might approach the sixth day of the sixth month.' She then tied a large knot, and tucked stray strands of hair inside a floppy bun along with her wand. Cassandra had the appearance of someone mysteriously ill, but somehow refused to submit to death; doleful, blue, eyes, pallid complexion, and a thinness that earned her the nickname Boney Bones at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but despite her unhealthy look, she was bewitchingly beautiful. She propped head with the cushion and sank into a relaxed position; her comfort was short lived.
THUMP! The front door flew open and her father fell in face first.
"Vanora!" bellowed Edgar for wife, "I'm home, love!"
"Mum's not here," said Cassandra, laying the book aside.
"Elspeth," he called for his second eldest daughter, "come help your old dad."
Cassandra stood, one hand held the weight of the heavy tangle of hair and the other her protruding belly, and wobbled to where her father lay pretending to be helpless. "Elspeth with mum in Hartford," she said in a scornful tone, "all you have is me."
"Alright, sweetheart, I'll wait here for you."
Edgar heaved a heavy sigh of appreciation for the kind hands that aided him, not realizing until standing upright whose hands they were. "Winifred," he said, smiling at his daughter who was bracing herself for the addition weight. "Winnie, you're such angel."
"It's me, Cassie, Dad."
He slanted his eyes to slits, and then his smile altered. "So, it is," he said, disappointed she was not his youngest and favorite. "I had myself a few drinks tonight."
"Tell me something I don't know," she said, "and, Dad, please try to stand on your own. I can't carry you."
As usual Edgar got to the point at once. "No one asked you to carry me," he said, spraying her with the odor of alcohol, and tightly gripped her arm. "I'll tell you something you don't know, Miss. Doom and Gloom. I ran into Sirius Black this evening, lo-and-behold, he didn't even mention your name . . . is that gloomy enough for you? I was glad to see him. Glad to see him out with friends, enjoying life, and not giving a damn about you."
"I'm glad for him, also," she said, removing his grip on her.
"That's—right," he hiccupped, "didn't—mention you—at all."
Cassandra wobbled back to the sofa, and resumed reading. There was no point in her father saying anything about Sirius; she knew it was just a matter of time before a full-blown altercation would erupt, and she sought to avoid it all cost. Her parents weren't pleased with the pending birth of their first grandchild. Perhaps if she had married first some happiness would be present, but she doubted a child would suddenly change their opinion of her. "I'm off to bed," Edgar announced, but instead flopped down in an armchair where two kittens scurried off into hiding from fear of being crushed. "I'm meeting with Barty Crouch in the morning, and I need to be in tip- top form."
Cassandra didn't look up from her book and, intent on ignoring her father, placed the book atop of her belly, turning a page every few seconds. "Dark omens can be found in the most obvious of places to the trained eye," she read aloud.
"What the bloody hell are you reading?" asked Edgar, suddenly startled, and strained his eyes to see the title of the book clearly which, also, brought in essence the condition of the room. The sitting room was littered with books, dishes with dried food were stacked a feet high on a table in front of the sofa, and two large astronomy charts were pinned to the wall. "You been sitting on your bum all day!" he yelled. "Doing nothing but reading that rubbish!" He got to his feet and inspected the state of his home.
"It's not rubbish," she said.
"IT'S RUBBISH!" he shouted. "AND DON'T YOU TALK BACK TO ME, GIRL . . . NOT AS LONG AS YOU'RE LIVING UNDER MY ROOF!"
"Sorry, I wasn't being disrespectful."
"When your mother sees this mess, you best believe, she'll . . ." He paused, allowing himself to breathe, or he suddenly remembered his wife would not be home for some weeks, perhaps months. "Wasting your time looking for premonitions," he continued on with a different irksome subject, examining a copy of The Constellations for Future Predictions, and tossed the book back in its pile. "Here's a premonition you won't find in any book. . . Sirius Black will never be a husband to you, or a father to that baby, unless you have a word with the Ministry of Magic."
Edgar's big foot accidently kicked a leg on the table and dishes hurtle in the air—"Scourgify,"—but they landed neatly stacked and clean. "Please, don't advise me to go running to the Ministry," said Cassandra, tucking her wand back in her hair. "I don't want to marry anyone, nor do I need the Ministry to assist on my behalf."
Edgar stood stubbornly staring at her. "You'll regret your decision one day," he said coldly. "Sirius Black belongs to most prosperous family in the wizarding world, and I'll wager you a thousand Galleons he marries someone just as wealthy as they are."
Cassandra placed the book over her belly. "Really, a thousand Galleons," she said suspiciously. "Your gold could serve a better purpose."
Edgar chuckled. "If you think me and mother will finance your stupidity, think again."
She shrugged. "No, I never considered you or mum would. Don't worry, though, this baby will have everything it needs, including two parents. It just occurred to me your well-earned gold could ensure your final affairs are in order. And, as far as Sirius goes, I can definitely say, he'll never marry, nor will he ever conceive another child, and neither you, nor I, will be alive to see his grief-stricken life unfold."
With that said, she pick-up her book and turned another page. Edgar had turned purple in the face; his lips trembled, but he pretended not to be alarmed. "You don't scare me as you scare your mother and sisters, girl," he bellowed. "These so-called visions of yours' are signs alright—a sign that you're positively mad."
"Of course, if you say so," she said indifferently, "leave poor Aunt Amelia to sort it all out . . . won't matter. . . I'm in the process of making my final arrangements."
"Try arranging the rest of this mess," he furiously snapped. "You can perform a cleaning charm well enough. I suggest you get it done before I wake in the morning."
Edgar stormed from the room and up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door—Cassandra simply sniggered and turned another page.
A/N:
J.K. Rowling introduced us to the Boneses through Amelia Susan Bones (Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement) and her niece, Susan Bones (A Hogwarts student, sorted into
Hufflepuff, and a friend to Harry Potter). It's canon that Edgar Bones is killed, with his wife and children, by a Death Eater when Voldmort first rose to power. Alastor Moody (Mad-Eye) tells
Harry that Edgar Bones was a great wizard. (OotO ch.9) I like to invision him more as a wizard form of Vernon Dursley; a big, beefy man with a short temper. We're not told his wife's name,
or the names of his children, but I found it interesting to learn Edgar Bones is either Susan Bones' grandfather or uncle. So, how is any of this possible, if all his children are killed with him
and Amelia Bones is childless? Nevertheless, when Rowling is asked in a 2000 interview were the Boneses who are killed by a Death Eater related to Susan Bones, she said, "They were her
grandparents." But, Rowling may have mistakenly changed the relationship when she wrote book five. Please, feel free to review and offer any suggestions; I'm trying to explore all the
possibilities. Thank you in advance. Chapter three is coming soon, I titled it The Meeting of Like Minds, where Cassandra Bones meets Sibyll Trelawney for the first time.
