A/N: You may notice a sudden reduction in typos and comma splices... I've finally gotten around to getting a beta! Thanks JaimeWeasley for your excellent work!
Well, time and tears went by and I collected dust.
For there were many things I didn't know.
When daddy went away, he said try to be a man,
And someday you'll understand
Well, time and tears went by and I collected dust.
For there were many things I didn't know.
When daddy went away, he said try to be a man,
And someday you'll understand
Harry sat with the curtains closed in his four-poster, wand lit and wedged in a handy crevice in the stone above the bed head, smirking slightly at the snores of his dorm mates. He was sitting cross-legged over a small box that was brimming with post. He'd been afraid, at first, to write Sirius very often; he didn't want to pester him. He, Harry, was unsure how often his godfather would want to hear from him. But now that seemed silly as Sirius wrote him at least once a week, often twice, and asked to hear about all the small details in Harry's life. He grinned at the thought. Take that, Uncle Vernon! There was someone who gave a damn about him!
He chewed the end of his quill absently while he debated just how serious Sirius was in his last letter. Greece? Really? Hermione nearly had kittens when he'd told her and she'd spent the next day reciting a list of all the magical sites the country had to offer and what he and Sirius should see… but really Harry had the impression that Sirius' itinerary mostly consisted of eating and lounging. Which was perfectly fine with Harry.
He honestly didn't care where they went. They could just stay at Sirius' house and Harry would be perfectly happy. All he wanted was to spend Christmas with someone who actually wanted him for a change! Hermione had suggested that if Harry was uncomfortable he could propose a less intimidating destination like Paris or something. Really Harry was pretty sure that Hermione just wanted to talk about France as her family had taken a holiday there last summer.
He grinned happily to himself as he re-read his godfather's letters. Ron would tease him, he knew, that he kept these letters in a box under his bed like a girl, but… no one had written him before! No one had cared before, really. After years of downright dislike from the Dursleys, it was like Christmas every time Hedwig came bearing a letter from Sirius. Harry knew it was something Ron, who rolled his eyes at post from his mum, would never understand.
As happy as he was to receive all the post and to go on his first holiday, he was quite anxious about the whole thing. What if he got on Sirius' nerves? Would he send him back to Hogwarts and not want anything else to do with him? Sirius had said a couple times that Harry looked like his dad… would Sirius be sad if Harry reminded him too much of his murdered best friend? Or what if he wasn't enough like James Potter and Sirius was disappointed in him? Anxiety swept over Harry, forming what felt like a ball of ice in his belly. Everyone always told him how amazing his parents were; there really wasn't any way Harry could live up to that! Heck, he was just a scrawny kid with a scar on his forehead, poor to mediocre at everything. Dealing with the Dursleys not loving him had been unpleasant and hurtful, especially when he was younger, but he didn't like them that much either. Losing Sirius' affection would hurt significantly more than his relatives' poor treatment, even if he was polite about it. Harry could envision it happening… he would be too clingy or be in the way or be a disappointment and Sirius would send him back to Hogwarts after the holiday and his letters would be fewer and further between… he'd ask fewer questions about Harry's life, the letters would get shorter until maybe a last one would read something like "Harry- it's been good getting to know you, but I've got a life to live now that I'm out of Azkaban. Best of luck to you, kid!" And maybe it would be signed off with one of those salutations that people didn't mean like 'write whenever you like' or 'stop by and say hello sometime soon'… as little correspondence as Harry had, he knew that comments like that were only for politeness' sake.
He slowly put his letters away and pulled out the photo album that Hagrid gave him, now supplemented with the photos from Charlotte Butler. He paged through it slowly, staring thoughtfully at photos of Sirius with his parents. Would he be a disappointment to Sirius? What could he do to ensure that Sirius like having Harry around? Should he keep to himself and give Sirius peace and quiet like his relatives liked or should he try to act like he imagined his dad would? Be funny and smart-sounding?
He swallowed against a lump in his throat. Perhaps he should just stay at Hogwarts for the holidays so that he wouldn't risk disappointing his godfather. He could make something up about a failing grade he needed to stay behind to complete some extra credit work to pull his grade up to passing… that way he and Sirius could keep up their letter-writing as that seemed to be going well.
He shut the album with more force than strictly necessary and put it back in its place under his bed. He crawled under the covers, pulled them up to the ears and willed himself to fall asleep without crying.
. . . . . .
A sunny mid-October day found Sirius strolling through Diagon Alley on his way, yet again, to pay his solicitor. He was fairly sure the man would be in the market for a new home in the South of France after his accounts were settled. Oh well, the Black vaults were quite full, after all. The image of his mother came to his mind and he grinned viciously at the thought of how displeased she'd be that her least favorite son was now in full control of the Black fortune and legacy. He quite liked that notion.
The issue with the ownership of his cottage was still unresolved. Turned out that an elderly widow had purchased it and spent her days baking for the neighbors and puttering in the garden. She earned spending money by clothes-mending and child-minding. Charlotte had passed that bit of information on to him with some pity. What sort of person would he be if he turned an old woman out on her ear? He was thinking about offering her an obscenely large number of galleons in the hope she could comfortably move somewhere and he could take up residence guilt-free. Charlotte had implied that the witch was quite happy where she was and Sirius wasn't sure the cottage meant that much to him anyway. He'd worry about that later.
He rounded a corner and very nearly collided with a woman coming from the other direction and both staggered to avoid the impact. He swore under his breath as one of her shopping bags tumbled to the ground and neatly wrapped packages were strewn colorfully across the pavement. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her as she wobbled, off-balance in high heels on the cobblestone street.
"Oh damn! I'm so sorry!" He said quickly but clamped his mouth shut as she looked up and he met the carefully-schooled expression on the face of Narcissa Malfoy. He straightened quickly, releasing her arms and bending to retrieve her packages. "Cousin." He greeted her a bit stiffly, not enjoying meeting her unprepared… he still wasn't sure what to make of her request. "I hope I've not damaged anything." He said, not a little proud of his civility. He knew some of his discomfort with the woman who had been his favorite cousin as a child was a direct result of her choice of spouse… the only thing he'd offer to Lucius Malfoy would be a one way ticket to the seventh circle of hell. The slimy bastard. It still grated him that he'd spent so long in Azkaban for nothing when Death Eaters like Lucius got off without so much as a slap on the wrist.
"It's quite alright, Sirius." She answered politely as she allowed him to replace the purchases into the now recovered bag. She gazed around as if surveying her own personal domain; he got the impression she was checking who was within ear shot and who was watching, though she was quite subtle about it. Narcissa was nothing if she wasn't subtle. "I was actually on my way to the post office to deliver you a letter but since you're here…" She reached into her handbag (which Sirius was sure cost a sickening amount of galleons) and plucked out a sealed envelope. He took it and tucked it neatly inside his coat. He nodded his acceptance and was opening his mouth to bid her farewell when she stopped him with a look that was less guarded than she usually wore. "Do answer me when you get a moment… Lucius will be away next week and I will look forward to some correspondence to keep me entertained." She smiled slightly as she seemed to search his face. The message was obvious in her words: don't write back until Lucius won't be able to intercept the letter.
He nodded again. "It was lovely to see you, Narcissa." He did step around her this time and distractedly went about his errand. The letter seemed to burn a hole in his pocket as he made his payment to Lydia at the solicitor's office and ignored her fluttering eyelashes. He also ignored her pout when she had to answer his query about Charlotte to tell him that she was in court all afternoon. Silly girl, she was barely out of Hogwarts and barely capable of recording his payment.
Slightly disappointed that he hadn't gotten to see Charlotte he went quickly home and up to the library to read the letter from Narcissa. What the hell could the woman want with him?
Sirius,
I do hope that you've given thought to my previous request. I would like to discuss this further and hear your decision quickly, though I'm sure you will have questions before you are willing to commit.
Perhaps I could bring Draco to see the tapestry over the winter holidays?
Do let me know next week if that is convenient.
Yours,
Narcissa
Why would she want to show Draco the tapestry? Surely he knew his own family history. He tossed the letter onto the table to respond to next week, hopefully by then he'd come up with something to say.
A glance at the window sill showed a stack of post which contained yet another letter from a witch; this one was a response to one he'd written previously.
Sirius,
Thank you for your letter, I've been meaning to write to you for ages but haven't known quite what to say. You and Harry are of course welcome to spend as much or as little of the holiday with us as you like; just let me know so I can rearrange the boys to free up a bedroom for you. Merlin knows we're always ready for a crowd 'round here.
Arthur and I were shocked and sick when we heard the news. We owe you an enormous apology for believing that you could've led You Know Who to James and Lily and shame on us for not realizing you didn't receive a proper trial. It's a hard potion to swallow to know that we were all so fooled by dumpy little Peter Pettigrew! Especially for Dumbledore to have been so fooled, it's nigh on unbelievable. I suppose trust was hard to come by during those times, even amongst friends.
I've sent along a basket of meat pies, I'm afraid I don't recall which are your favorites, but I daresay you need feeding up. Anytime you're feeling peaky or would like to visit you know where we are. I could always do with a spot of company during the school year; it never quite feels like home when the house is quiet!
We are so glad that you've been freed and cleared. Whatever we can do for you, please let us know immediately.
We look forward to hearing from you- I mean that,
Molly Weasley
Sirius smiled at the letter from Molly, it was no less than he expected. She had mother-henned him quite a bit back before…. Well, before, despite the fact that she was only about twelve years his senior.
He did love her cooking; he had daydreamed about it occasionally while he was imprisoned, recalling Order meetings that had been held at the Burrow. Molly had always made enough to feed an army and never failed to send a plate home with him. He was pretty sure she'd been convinced that, being a bachelor living alone, he only ate when she fed him. He hadn't put too much effort into dissuading her. And if he hid a few sickles or a galleon or two to during each meeting ease their burden, the food was well worth it. He bit into a meat pie with relish and worked his way through half the plate while he pondered her invitation for Christmas. Well, her acquiescence to his request to spend some of the holiday with them. It was a bit forward of him, but he hadn't missed the way Harry had spoken of the hand-knitted Weasley jumper he'd received the past two Christmases, and that maybe she could repair the one from last year where the hem was fraying, it was only slightly small on him now… He thought it would be good for him and Harry both to spend at least a day or two at the Burrow, experience a family that loved each other and be spoiled by Molly. Yes. He'd write her back and accept her invitation… he thought he'd save that as a surprise for Harry. He was pretty confident that Harry would be pleased with those plans. Now to do some homework and select a resort for their trip. How could he find out who had the best food…
. . . . . .
Sirius had written Narcissa back the following week as she requested and arranged for her to visit Grimmauld Place to discuss her request. She was due in less than ten minutes, in fact. Sirius could admit that he was slightly anxious, although the distraction of Kreacher being revoltingly ecstatic about serving one of the Blacks ladies was making it easier on him. Aggravation was easier than nerves.
Narcissa arrived precisely on time and managed to emerge through the floo with nary a smudge or hair out of place. They greeted each other stiffly, with Sirius defaulting to the teaching from his childhood to cover his awkwardness.
They chitchatted politely about the weather and nothing while Kreacher brought in the tea. After five unbearable minutes he returned his cup to the saucer and set it down with a clink.
"Could we…. Just not do this, Narcissa?" He asked, scraping a hand down his face, the ticking of the clock seemed inordinately loud for a moment while she considered him.
"Alright." She responded quietly and returned her own tea cup to the table after one last sip. She sat back and seemed to gather herself for a brief moment. "The Dark Lord will return."
"Yes." Sirius agreed readily, extremely relieved to be dropping the pureblood protocol.
"He will recruit Draco. Draco will join and do his best to please his father." She continued, smoothing her skirt with a hand that wasn't quite steady.
"Yes." Sirius agreed again. "Where do I come into all this?'
"You are head of my birth family. You can put us under your protection; I can leave him and take Draco. Hopefully, once away from his father I can get through to Draco that the Dark Lord is not the answer."
"And then what? You and Draco stay here, sequestered under the Fidelius and I watch my back and wait for Lucius to take revenge?" He wished for a tumbler of whiskey instead of this fancy-arse teacup.
"I don't have those answers right now but I realize this will be no small inconvenience for you." She sipped her tea again. "The best I can offer is any knowledge I have that will help you stop Him coming back and I can keep this house for you. It…" she glanced around with a wry smile. "It… may benefit from a woman's touch."
Sirius barked out a grudging laugh. "Too true. Kreacher's been left alone with that mad portrait for too many years." They were quiet again for a moment. "Are you planning on just running away in the night?"
Narcissa cast her eyes down and looked cleared her throat delicately. "I don't have that answer either. I've thought of several possible plans, but leaving at a time when he can't stop me yet Draco will come willingly will prove difficult to orchestrate, I'm sure."
"Will he come willingly?" Sirius didn't know what sort of relationship his cousin and her son had.
"He is much closer to me than his father… but…"
"Where do you stand on blood purity?"
"It is… foolish and short-sighted." She responded with a light flush across her cheeks. Sirius wondered if she'd ever dared voice that aloud before. He had to admit he was surprised at her stance. She was correct of course, but he'd have never thought the ice queen of Malfoys of all people would see that.
"Why do you want Draco to see the Tapestry?"
"He needs to see that he's related fairly closely to every witch his father has mentioned as a possible wife for him. He needs to realize that the next generation will be even more inter-related and so on until we're inbred to the point of deformity and loss of magic. The number of squibs only increases in each successive generation. The pureblood ideology is unsustainable."
He nodded, at a loss for words if he were quite honest. They both sipped their tea and selected a biscuit to cover for the lull in conversation.
After a few moments Narcissa set her cup down again and stood. He followed suit. "I know this is unexpected and you have a lot to consider before you answer. Regardless of your ultimate decision I would still like to bring Draco by if you have no objection."
"Of course, I agree. It's a lesson he needs to learn." He helped her into her cloak and paused near the floo.
"Thank you for tea and for considering my request, Sirius," she said with some feeling as she looked up at him. With her softened expression she more resembled his young favorite cousin than she had in twenty years.
"You're welcome, Cissy." He surprised himself using her nickname. He was getting a bit nostalgic or something. "Give me some time to think about this."
She nodded, gave him a small tentative smile, and stepped into the floo.
When the flames died down he paced away from the hearth, running his hands through his hair. Bloody hell. He'd have to do some research into the old traditionalist laws to see what his legal options were if he officially took them under his protection. And he definitely had to consider how large the target on his back would be when Lucius realized what had happened.
But her inside information could be invaluable in dealing with Voldemort. She'd been part of the inner circle during the last war and perhaps even knew what Voldemort's condition and location were at the moment.
How the hell was he supposed to make a decision like this? He didn't even have anyone to talk it over with. He was feeling reluctant to share information with Dumbledore at the moment; information in this situation should flow two ways in his opinion.
He stood and wandered over to the sideboard, eyeing the crystal decanter with its tempting amber whiskey. He'd done really well, lately. Hadn't had a drop. He could have one glass now. Just one. There was so much that he didn't know how to handle... Narcissa and her maneuverings, Harry, Halloween and thus the anniversary of James and Lily's deaths, Peter's trial a week after that. One glass couldn't hurt... just enough to take the edge off.