"To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, there's the rub,"
1978
"… and so that brings us to our final topic for discussion: our graduating class." said Dumbledore as his eyes grazed around the room. "Is there anyone a professor feels we need to talk about particularly?"
McGonagall let the silence settle for a moment before beginning. "A few of my Gryffindors – Longbottom and Potter – have professed an interest in pursuing careers as Aurors; I've let the Auror office know, but I believe that a recommendation from some of their professors would not be unhelpful."
Flitwick nodded in agreement. "And Miss Evans has talked to me about studying for a Charms Mastery. Though, as I told her, I do believe –"
"Yes, you and I should talk to her about that, Filius." said Dumbledore, interrupting. "Though while we are on the topic, are there any other seventh years that we feel would be able to complete a Mastery? Horace?"
"As I've mentioned before, I think Severus Snape would be excellent in Potions. He's got the natural talent-"
"Yes, yes, but what about the rumors that he's joined the Death Eaters? Should we be supporting someone like that for a Mastery? Who knows what he'll do with the knowledge!" said Pomona Sprout, one of the younger professors.
"My dear," said Dumbledore gravely, "I too have heard the rumors that young Snape, along with Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black – one hopes his younger brother will not be lead astray – and the Lestrange brothers have bound themselves to the individual calling himself Lord Voldemort." Murmurs broke out at this. "But fellow teachers! We cannot allow such rumors to quell our desire to teach-"
"What about the arranged marriages the purebloods are still forcing their girls into?" said Pomona angrily. "I was just informed by one of my students yesterday that Narcissa Black– who hasn't even graduated yet! – is going to be married to Lucius Malfoy and that every student knew it."
"We cannot stop families from making these decisions." said Dumbledore. "We can only teach the students and hope that they in turn will not make these decisions for their children. Now, are there any more – yes, Pomona?"
"I must insist that we appoint someone to talk to these children and make sure they know they can leave their family," said Pomona stiffly. "Someone must talk to these Slytherins."
"'These Slytherins'? Why just 'these Slytherins', may I ask?" said Horace Slughorn huffed angrily. "Surely everyone doesn't think that this is just a Slytherin problem, do they?"
"I must agree with Pomona, Horace," Flitwick interjected. "Sadly, I would also urge you not to help young Severus complete his Mastery. I do not believe he would use it for the right purposes."
"Ahh… the right purposes." said a ghostly voice. Binns often had a tendency to wander into these meetings and think that the teachers, who had been his students so many years before, were his class. "As Merlin himself said, 'History is written by the victors'. The example will be studying today is…"
"I believe we shall have to continue this conversation later," said Dumbledore, chuckling. "It appears Professor Binns has decided to teach the room a lesson." As the teachers started to leave the room, he walked straight over to Flitwick. "Now I believe we need to talk about Miss Evans, Filius…"
"Sirius! Wait up." But just as he turned, Regulus nearly barreled into him. "Sorry," his brother panted. "Didn't think you heard me." He swung an arm around Sirius' shoulders. "Wanna go down to the lake?"
Springtime at Hogwarts was always beautiful, even as the war raged on – what? Ten years now? The Whomping Willow had even started to bloom. At the far end of the lake, Sirius could see what looked like the unicorn herd from the Forbidden Forest. By the shore, the tentacles of the Giant Squid stretched out languidly.
"So, do you like her?" Regulus asked suddenly, as they reached the edge of the Forest.
"I – who?"
Regulus snorted. "Rhia, of course. You know –" he elbowed Sirius. "- Evan's sister?"
"Oh. Her."
"Yes, her. You haven't stopped staring at her since... well, when did you start talking to her?"
"Three mo– hey, I'm not that bad." Sirius' protests meant nothing, as both of them knew. "I – is it – I mean, is it really that obvious?"
His brother shrugged. "Obvious? Eh. Well, I mean, Wilkes is a little upset, but that's understandable."
"So it's official?"
"As official as any of these things are. Why didn't you ask father to talk to Mr. Rosier? I'm sure he'd be happy to, since you haven't liked any of the girls he's thrown in front of you."
"She – well, they're friends..." Sirius trailed off. "Don't worry about it. I didn't like her like that so much anyways." The two brothers walked without speaking for several moments, the quiet laps of the water on the shore breaking the silence.
"So, have you decided?"
"About Hogwarts?"
"Mhm."
"I'm not coming back," his brother said quietly.
"I thought the bill –"
"Didn't go through. Dumbledore tried, but – well, he'll have to wait another year to make sure all of us Slytherins aren't running off underage."
"Father is okay with this?"
"I know what I want to do." Regulus' tone was unwavering. "Speaking of – has he...?"
"No."
"It's been two years, and you're graduating."
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Father never mentioned it," Sirius said softly. His fingers twisted his ring around slowly. "Not since..."
"I think I hear Bella," Regulus interrupted. "We should be getting back inside anyways, it'll be dinner soon."
"Regulus –" His brother stiffened. "Just promise me you'll be careful? Wherever you go?"
Regulus let out a dead chuckle. "It's war, Sirius. None of us can be careful. You'll have to choose a side, too."
Jennifer O'Connelly eyed Charlus Potter with a steely look. With a steady hand, she gracefully lifted the cup of tea to her lips, took a measured sip, and slowly lowered the cup back down to the table. Her eyes never left his.
"You wish to sell me a bride for my son."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Does it offend your sensibilities so much, Lord Potter?" said Jennifer. "But you may have her for whatever you desire. My interest is in the transaction, not the outcome."
Charlus, Lord Potter, leaned back in his chair and absentmindedly swirled his wine glass in his hand. He had just come from a dinner and was still dressed in his formal robes. "You have confirmed she has the power? That she is of the blood, born under the right signs?" he said at last.
"Yes. And if she is not… well, she will die then. No massive loss to yourself."
"And her magic is ready?"
"I have worked on the binding for several years. It was finished the year she graduated Hogwarts."
"That will require me to preform the ritual soon."
She sneered. "Would you rather I take the offer to another Lord? Plenty of them will jump at the opportunity—"
"Perhaps. Maybe less so, once they hear what you ask for payment. And just what do you ask for for payment?" he said coldly. "Several hundred gallons, perhaps? The services of a potion master? What does the squib desire?"
She reddened in anger. "I am willing to lower the normal price for a small favor. Nothing major. But in return for asking for less, I expect to be included in the ritual. To have some of the pow—"
"The magic she will produce. The raw power she possesses. Of course. You squibs all want the same," Lord Potter said. "And what makes you think I would give that to you?"
Jennifer was suddenly aware of a burning sensation in her body. She tried to say something, but couldn't; her body had frozen suddenly and completely.
"I see the potion is beginning to hit you." Charlus Potter said in amusement. "You see, unlike you, I am a wizard. And as a wizard, I can preform magic. And as someone who can preform magic – a distinct advantage over you, I am sure you'll agree – I see no reason why I should allow myself to be blackmailed by you."
She tried to speak. She really did, but it was impossible; how had this happened? He needs me. He can't do this, he doesn't even know who-
"I can imagine what you're thinking. That I need you, probably. That only you can lead me to the girl, only you can complete the ritual to harness her power. Well, for a man of my means… well, it is quite easy to find the girl you've been nurturing. You didn't even make an effort to hide your tracks," Charlus said. He leaned forward in his chair. "Though I suppose it didn't hurt that I had been keeping a watch out for a girl like her in any case."
If she could have moved, her eyes would have widened in shock.
"I don't suppose you would have known that. Very few people listen to the old tales these days. But when my Watcher brought me word about Lily Evans… it was perfect. And then he told me of you – how you'd already prepared her for a ritual, perhaps, or to be a perfect, loyal, unwilling wife." He rose at this and walked slowly to behind Jennifer's chair. "Though I must admit I admire your willingness to sell out your own niece – really, I'd love to know how much it stung when you realized she was born with all this power and you didn't have a drop – I am not moved by sentimentality so much that I would even think of losing a drop of that power when I could get it for free," he said in her ear.
The blade moved quietly across her throat, so soft it barely broke the skin. The few drops that appeared were quickly caught by a flask.
"This is all I need until the final ritual. I suppose you'll have to die afterwards to fully break the binding, but it really can't be helped," he said as he closed the tiny flask. "We all have to make sacrifices for the Greater Good."
"Do you think he's really realized yet?"
"What? With the puppy dog stare? Not a chance," said Bella to her younger cousin as they sat in the common room studying with Sirius. Sirius had a book open on his lap, yet had failed to turn a single page for quite some time. His gaze was fixed quite obviously on a dark-haired girl in the corner of the room.
"Did you see how he perked up when we mentioned Evan?" said Narcissa, her head still buried in her book.
"You mean when you started shouting about Rosier just to prove a point?"
"Well, I was right, wasn't I? Sirius came over right away 'just to spend some quality time with his cousins'".
"Do you think my father would go for it?" Regulus asked, stretched out over the couch.
"Perhaps," said Bella in a more contemplative tone. "I know our father has talked about Andromeda and Evan being a good couple, so Lord Black probably would want him marrying into another family... but you never know with these things. If Sirius really asked, I doubt he'd say no."
"But Rhia doesn't want it? It sounded like Sirius did try to ask." Regulus lifted his head slightly to look at his cousin.
"Well, she's practical. Wilkes adores her. He always has. And why should she risk it all for something that might fizzle out in a week?" Bella shrugged. "They've been friends since they were children, and it's her brother's best friend. These things aren't always about love. But if Rhia ever so much as hinted – Wilkes would let her go. He wants her to be happy. Besides, her father's not the type to ever force it."
"And she'll be happy with him?"
Bella looked thoughtfully across the room at her cousin and his crush chatting away cheerfully. "I think so." She turned to her cousin, but there was a hint of pity in her smile. "Why should she give up a man who adores her – someone who is one of her closest friends – for passion?"
"Sirius would love her."
"Love comes in many forms. She does love Wilkes, in her own way. And that's the sort of love that lasts much longer."
Regulus didn't respond immediately. "Is that how you love Rodolphus?"
"It's complicated."
Narcissa snorted. "Bella meant to say that she's crazy for him."
"You're one to talk," Bella responded, glaring at her younger sister. "Lucius this, Lucius that – it gets a little annoying, you know –"
" – You know Sprout tried to talk to me?" Cissa slammed her book down, interrupting her sister's teasing.
"Wait, what?" Bella said, startled.
Cissa snorted. "I know. She thinks she's some sort of – oh, I don't know, knight in shining armor – I got this whole lecture on how I didn't have to marry Lucius, how my father couldn't legally force me into it –"
"I thought Father was against the match," interjected Bella dryly.
"Well, Father gave me this whole lecture on how I could do better, how – that's not the point. Father supports me, why can't she?" Cissa huffed angrily. "It's not even her business. It's none of their businesses. And I'd bet you anything Golden Boy Potter didn't get a lecture either –"
"Potter?" Regulus turned to look at his cousin. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, Potter? He and that redhead – you know, what's-her-name – are getting married," Cissa said, distracted. "A couple of the Gryffindor girls were gossiping about it. Everyone's getting married now, what with the war and everything. And they've only been dating a few weeks too..."
Regulus thought he saw his cousin narrow her eyes at that, but then Narcissa spoke again and he got distracted.
"... and why didn't Andromeda come for graduation?" Cissa asked.
Bella shrugged in response. "I don't know. I had to take one of the Mastery tests – not that Dumbledore was any help with that, but even he couldn't stop it. Thank Merlin Slughorn said I could stay with you, otherwise he would have kicked me out of the castle already. I think she's busy with something in London. She might just come up late for the ceremony."
Graduation flew by in seconds for Sirius. Soon enough, the pop of Apparation had dragged his family into the Library of 12 Grimmuald Place. But everyone was distracted – his brother sorting out his belongings with their mother, Bella and Cissa already talking to their parents about wedding plans, and – well, Andromeda went off with his father, their discussion heated.
Just me then. Somewhere in the house, a cuckoo clock called the hour.
He twisted the ring on his finger yet again. Finally graduated. An adult, ready to take on the world.
Is there a time limit now? Would the Dark Lord expect him to pledge fealty in the next hour, the next day? Maybe it's a 30 day thing, like in those Muggle stores, a voice in his head commented snidely. Would he arrive right at the stroke of midnight if Sirius didn't seek him out?
His father had explained how the ritual had worked, of course, but he was a bit hazy on the details. But it couldn't be that big of a deal – Sirius hadn't felt any ill effects from not seeing his supposed godfather for so many years. If there even were side effects. Was that a thing? Magical backlash, or something of the sort?
It should have been easy. Sirius knew it should have been easy. The Potters and Dumbledore had tried to leave him a cripple. They never gave him a chance. What else did they do? And there was his family – his father, his brother, his mother. Here they were, waiting for him to make his choice. They'd never said a word since he came back. Since he was sorted into Slytherin. Since he broke the binding.
They could have.
He was powerful – Sirius knew it. He knew it the moment his father taught him how to reach inside. How to wield his magic. Truly use his magic. He'd be valuable. He could make a difference.
And yet... he could still feel the doubt rise in himself again. The taunts at school – it was child's play. This was war. The students he'd grown up with... the same class he had just graduated with. Which of them would he have to fight? Have to kill?
It hadn't really hit home until he'd seen each and every one of his classmates walk. Even at Hogwarts, they'd heard about former students found dead or worse, missing.
How many – which of my classmates will be the next ones gone?
It should have been easy. And yet... there stood the fireplace in front of him.
It was easier.
The pub he'd found in the Muggle world was run down, but comfortably so. 'The Queen's Head' proclaimed the faded paint on the sign outside. Nothing magical about it. Sirius ordered a drink as soon as he stepped inside. He'd just get drunk, maybe go sleep at his uncle's house for the night. Not face his father for a bit.
He was on to his second, maybe third drink when the girls walked in. Like the rest of the pub, he turned to look at the rowdy girls – most clearly already drunk – when one of them recognized him.
"Sirius?" said Lily Evans. "Is that really you?"
The other girls rushed forward towards Sirius at that, pulling Lily along with them. "Oh, you two know each other?" said one of them, giggling.
"He's-"
"We went to school together." said Sirius.
"Oh, friends from school!" said another girl.
"Well…" Lily looked at Sirius with shared amusement. Gryffindors and Slytherins, friends? They hadn't really talked in years, not since the war had gotten worse. "Yeah, we were friends."
Some of the girls obviously took that the wrong way. "Oh… oh, friends" said one of them and winked at her. "Well, you should bring him along tonight, Lily!"
Lily turned to Sirius as the other girls started to order. "I'm sorry about that, they're not normally so…"
"Excited?"
"Something like that. We're just celebrating graduation – well, their graduation. They're friends from my neighborhood," Lily said. "What are you doing here? I never thought I'd find you in a place like— like this!"
"I wanted to get some alone time. I guess I forgot that some people live in the Muggle world." said Sirius. "Not that that's a bad thing!" he added quickly.
Lily laughed. "It's alright, Sirius. I know what you mean, I forget it too," she said. "So what's new with you? Not to state the obvious, but we haven't talked in ages."
"Life's been good. This and that, you know," said Sirius nonchalantly. "What have I missed? Did you finally agree to go out with Potter?" A genuine curiosity underlined his words.
"James? No… no, it's... well, I'm supposed to meet his parents in a few days. We'll see." Lily didn't seem to pleased to be talking about her rumored boyfriend. Sirius had heard that they'd gone on a couple of dates from some gossips in Slytherin, but he hadn't bothered to learn more – not that there was more, it appeared. "But other then that… well, I'm sure you heard Frank and Alice are getting married soon."
"Because of the war, right?"
"Yes, he's going off to train as an Auror." Lily said. "He'll be good at it. And I'm – actually, I shouldn't say anything, don't want to curse it." A laugh escaped her. "I'm excited."
In the dim light of the pub, Sirius noticed that there seemed to be something off about Lily. It was hard to reconcile this tired, dull girl with the lively teenager he'd known those few years back, but, he supposed, that was what happened. People changed.
"Miss Evans. Care for a Lemon Drop?" Albus Dumbledore beamed at the recent graduate. "No? Well, that's a shame… I'll just put those away then here – don't mind me, sit down and make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a moment – there we are! Though I must inform you, Miss Evans, I was a bit surprised to receive your letter. What exactly did you wish to speak to me today about?"
"Well, Professor… it's a little hard to explain." said Lily Evans, a bit flummoxed at addressing her former Headmaster. She had been more then a little surprised when Dumbledore had insisted on meeting in person instead of sending a simple reply to her letter. "I don't quite understand the issue myself-"
"Yes, this would be about the Charms Mastery, wouldn't it?" Lily nodded quickly and inched forward a bit in her chair. "Ahh… yes, Professor Flitwick and I have talked about this issue quite a bit. Which is why I wanted to talk to you in person. It's always a sad time when I see my young muggleborn students first experience the true hatred of our world… very, very upsetting. It pains me very deeply to inform you, Miss Evans, that your request for a Charms Apprenticeship has been denied." Dumbledore said gravely. "Both Professor Flitwick and myself have attempted to make the board see reason, but it appears that several members are opposed to – and there really is no easy way to say this – the circumstances of your birth-"
"Isn't there something I can do, though?" said Lily fervently, her face never betraying her inner despair at seeing her dreams shattered in a mere instant. "Isn't there anyway else I can get my mastery? Or maybe I could write to those members, plead with them to—"
"I am afraid there is nothing that can be done, my dear. These matters are governed solely by a board and the members of that board are known only to whom they choose to reveal themselves to," said Dumbledore softly.
"Then I suppose I'll just… go then," said Lily. Her voice was so faint Dumbledore could barely hear it, but it was steady. She rose from her seat swiftly. "Thank you for your help, Professor Dumbledore."
When the door closed behind her, a goblin-like man stepped out from behind one of the doors in Dumbledore's office. "What a pity. I always liked the girl, even if she was a bit idealistic," said Flitwick absentmindedly as he examined some instruments on a table. "Why did you oppose the girl's mastery in the board meeting, Albus? Beyond the obvious reasons, that is."
Dumbledore gazed steadily at his Charms Professor. At last he spoke. "I cannot, in good conscience, put Miss Evans forth for a Charms Mastery knowing that she does possess neither the strength to bear the hatred that will come her way nor the stubbornness to see it through to the end."
"So it has nothing to do with the fact that Charlus Potter has shown an interest in her?" said Flitwick. He turned and raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's.
"What Lord Potter does is no concern of mine, Filius. The Head of House Potter does not command me. That being said, however…"
"She is not worth the fight."
"No. And the only reason I can imagine Potter is interested in her for is for his lovesick nephew."
"Quite sad, that. The girl is smart, but she'll be unable to handle herself as lady of a great Pureblood House."
"Mhm. A pity. But they are in love. Would you like a lemon drop?"
When Sirius woke up the next morning, his head throbbed with all the pain of a thousand ants eating his brain. As he stretched his back, he opened his eyes slowly, fully expecting to be in his bed at 12 Grimmuald Place.
He nearly jumped out of the bed in fright when he realized he definitely wasn't. And then he realized he wasn't even in a bed at all when he fell out of the couch and on to the hard wooden floor. Sirius would have probably ignored this and gone right back to sleep had a loud, unfairly cheerful voice boomed in his ears.
"Well, morning to you too! Glad to see you're finally up – my poor house elf's having a right fit about you waking the whole household up!" Sirius groaned as he recognized the booming voice of his uncle Alphard. "I'd give you some potion, but it seems Missy's gone and hidden it all. Something about you barging in here, rip roaring drunk, and waking poor old me up at five a.m. in the morning. Ah, she loves to mother me." The portly older man looked up wistfully and then turned back to Sirius. "Anyways, she says she's forgotten where she put all the potions, so I guess you'll just have to man up and suffer through it."
Sirius let out a muffled mumph as he let his head collapse again on the floor. Unfortunately, this only made his headache worse. Worse still was the clanging in his brain – oh, wait, that wasn't his head…
He'd forgotten how stubborn his uncle's house elf got when faced with something she utterly disapproved of. She couldn't criticize him directly, of course, but she found little ways to make her views quite known. Which, in this case, subsisted of her loudly banging pots and pans up and down the hallway outside and all the way into the room he was in.
"Must you do that, Missy? It's awfully loud." said Uncle Alphard nonchalantly, who by this point had made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs and was reading the morning paper. In no way whatsoever did he actually make an attempt to stop his house elf.
"Missy must test if the pots are up to polish, Master Alphard." said the wrinkled house elf resolutely. "Missy can't help it if it bothers some idiots. Would you like Missy to get you your breakfast Sir?"
"Yes, that'd be lovely Missy. Well, I guess if you have to do it, you have to do it. Eh, isn't that right, Sirius?" He said this with a well-aimed swat to Sirius' backside.
"Mmph."
"Oh, come on lad, get up off the floor. At least lay down on the couch – there, she'll be gone for a bit," he said, and indeed Missy and her clanging pots had left the room. "Now what's all the hubblub about? I thought your rebellious days were over. A damn shame, I told your mother, a damn shame. She got quite mad at me – thankfully it lasted me a couple of family events, it did. Well, at least she didn't have to see you like this. You can be rebellious all you want, my boy, but it's right to give your poor mother a heart attack and show up at her doorstep drunk."
Sirius gingerly picked himself up off the floor and pulled himself onto the couch.
"Oh, lay back for a bit, you're in no condition to talk. You only got in at four, after all." All of a sudden the clanging started up again and Sirius tried to burrow his head into the pillows. It didn't help. "There's my breakfast! And how inventive of you, Missy, to levitate those pots behind you – look, Sirius, isn't that just the greatest thing you've ever seen?" Uncle Alphard's booming, unfairly cheerful voice did not improve Sirius' outlook on life any bit. "Thank you, Missy." Sirius could feel her eyes boring into him.
When the sound finally left his ears, he sat up – very, very slowly – on the couch. His uncle was still reading the newspaper. "Missy left a few things for you, help yourself to it now!" Sirius heard the crinkling of the newspaper as he helped himself to some of the food on the table. Finally, after procrastinating as much as possible, he leaned back and put his plate on one of the side tables so he could eat.
"So what's all this rebelling about now, boy?"
Sirius chewed the piece of toast as slowly as possible before (at last) he was forced to turn to his uncle. "I-"
"Oh, don't tell me! Is it a girl? Off finding the girl of your dreams? No? Maybe you went out to find some fun before you're married off? A bit of a party, perhaps- oh, no then? Well, it has to be drowning your sorrows then. That's the only other reason real men get drunk, anyways."
Sirius gave up on eating and laid back, looking at the ceiling. "Something like that, yeah," he said at last as his studied one of the many cracks with the eye of a great artiste.
"Well." His uncle leaned back in the creaking armchair. "Well, well, well." he said gruffly. "All I can say is, don't make any hasty decisions. They have a way of backfiring on you." He pushed himself up from his armchair and started to walk out the door.
"I have to get to work, but make yourself comfortable for as long as you need – and Sirius?" Uncle Alphard looked back to make sure his nephew was paying attention. "Make your own choices."
Sirius sat there studying the crack for a while. Voldemort could find him here, right? That was probably something Voldemort was good at.
Did he want to be found? It's not like you made some great attempt to hide, said the snide voice in his head. Idiot, it added loudly for good measure.
War. That was what they all wanted.
And he didn't.
That was what it came down to, wasn't it? He wanted another choice. He wanted to choose something other than blood, and death, and destruction – something other than killing.
He didn't want to kill any of them, even after everything that had happened.
It was a wild card, he knew. Absolutely impossible. But he had to try.
Prongs,
Our old haunt, one hour. No wands.
Padfoot
James never could resist a challenge. Hopefully, he wouldn't be able to give up on their old friendship completely either.
Regulus Black raced up the steps of his uncle's house madly. He rang the doorbell impatiently; it was an eternity for him as he waited. Why Uncle insists in living in a damn Muggle house is beyond—
"Yes?" Regulus had to look down to see his uncle's even more impatient house elf, Missy.
"I'm looking for Sirius. Have you seen him?"
"The Young Hooligan left a while ago," the house elf said stiffly. Regulus could have sworn he heard a muttered "thankfully".
"Do you have any idea where he went?" he said. "Back home—"
"He didn't tell Missy where he was going." The house elf was about to shut the door when Regulus wedged his foot in the crack.
"Please, Missy? It's really important!"
The house elf gave in with a suffering sigh. "The Young Hooligan said something to the Master about a shrieking place. Now may Missy please go, Young Master?"