Walburga clenched her jaw in annoyance as the sound of Sirius's bedroom door slamming shut rang through the floors of the house. How long it had been since she'd heard that most irritating of noises. The noise which she'd once resented - and which she'd long since resigned herself to the fact that she would never hear again.
"And this is who you would have save our family from ruin?" Arcturus asked with a scoff. The old man shook his head. "That boy is just as much a stubborn fool as he ever was. Doesn't want a trial - indeed!"
He shook his head and frowned.
"The very thought. If you ask me, we may as well save ourselves any more time and gold on this ridiculous scheme and give the ungrateful little wretch what he wants. If it's Azkaban he wants, then he can damn well go back-"
"No!"
The force of Walburga's outburst caught Arcturus off-guard. He turned to look at his daughter-in-law and met her sharp,threatening glare. She stood with her fists clenched, her shoulders tensed, in full defence stance.
"Sirius is still recovering from his ordeal" Walburga's voice was lower, but by no means softer. "He isn't thinking straight. He doesn't mean what he says. He can't do"
"Can't he?" Arcturus arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Heaven knows there's no limit to how far that boy is willing go in pursuit of shaming both this family, and me, into an early grave"
"Don't be preposterous. He wouldn't do that "
Walburga turned away sharply and crossed the room to stand by the tall front window. She wrung her hands restlessly.
"He wouldn't truly do such a thing" She fought to keep her voice even to hide her anxieties. "It isn't possible. No one would wish such a fate upon themselves"
" He would" Arcturus barked back, undeterred. "If anyone is stupid enough to throw away such a golden opportunity to save themselves from that place, it's your son"
"Oh, do stop talking such tripe" Walburga snapped. She was fast losing patience with her father-in-law's unwavering conviction of Sirius's hopelessness. "Sirius Orion is many things, but he is not stupid. He was always a very high-achiever, after all. Always top of his class at school"
In spite of her prim, firm voice, there was an undeniable spark of pride in Walburga's words when she spoke of her son's achievements.
A spark which did not go unnoticed by Arcturus.
"Here we go" the old wizard huffed with a shake of his head.
"What?" Walburga's head snapped round to face him.
"I'd wondered how long it would take before we ended up here, you know" Arcturus let out a cold, humourless chuckle. "How long it would be before you gave in. I knew it wouldn't be long, of course. I ought to have put a galleon or two on it"
"Gave in to what , precisely?" Walburga demanded impatiently.
"Your old ways, of course!" The old man's lukewarm smirk faded in a second, his eyes as cold and hard as the iron their colour mimicked. "Indulging that boy, pandering to his ego. You were always too swept up in his favourable traits - few as they may be - to deal with the real problems at hand"
Walburga turned away from Arcturus, her nose in the air.
"I can't think what you mean," she said with a haughty sniff.
She peaked through the heavy, velvet curtain framing the window and glimpsed the outside world. A young Muggle woman in an atrociously-short and bright green skirt passed by, not an ounce of shame to be seen as she strutted past the house. She reached up a hand and ruffled up her birds' nest of a hairdo. What a disgraceful sight.
"Don't you take that stance with me, girl. You know full well what I mean"
The scolding tone of Arcturus's voice ignited a spark of annoyance within Walburga. But the weight of his accusation drew her gaze back round to look at him with an almost magnetic pull. The old man's grey eyes bore into her. His face, rarely known to sport a genuine smile, was wrinkled into a deep, disapproving frown.
"I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me" Walburga replied airily, turning away once more to stare out of the window.
"Alright, then" Arcturus slammed his cane hard against the floor and leaned forward menacingly. "Since you refuse to confront the truth of the matter yourself, I'll spell it out plainly for you. You ruined that boy. You and your husband both"
"What utter-"
"It is the truth" Arcturus sliced cleanly through Walburga's protest, silencing her with a dangerous glare. "The pair of you let him run riot from day one, never once reining him in when you ought to have. No wonder the insolent whelp ran off and made a public show of this family! Why, it wasn't as if he feared those who ought to have stopped him, was it?"
Walburga folded her arms across her chest, digging her nails deep into her elbows. Her breath shuddered with the effort it took to control her emotions. The mention of her deceased husband, however vague, ignited a deep, dull ache inside her which she fought to keep from taking hold of her.
If Arcturus felt any similar feeling at the mention of his son, he did as good a job at hiding his emotions as his daughter in law.
They were Blacks, after all. It was a talent which ran in the family.
"What - no defence?" Arcturus demanded, clearly unsatisfied with his daughter-in-law's silence. "No, of course not. Because you know it's true. Well I won't have it!" He slammed his cane down hard against the floor. "Not again"
Walburga took a deep breath and forced herself to turn to face her father-in-law once more.
"Sirius will come round" she said quietly. "He just needs-"
"What that boy needs is to be brought firmly under control - and fast"
Arcturus stomped across the room to stand before Walburga. In a surprising show of strength, he raised his cane and pointed it at her threateningly, pulling himself up to full height, standing unaided.
"Now you listen to me, girl, and listen good" he seethed, dangerously. "You bring that boy to heel and be quick about it. I have not gone to all this trouble and expense for that whelp of yours to stand up in court and make a complete mockery of this family all over again. This whole plan was your idea and you assured me that it would work, now it is up to you make sure it does work - and ensure he does as he's told and plays along"
Walburga swallowed drily and gave a single, stiff nod in reply.
"Good" Arcturus nodded with a sniff. He was satisfied - for now. He cleared his throat, composing himself, and turned towards the fireplace. "I'll be off now. I have business to attend to"
"Would that business be to do with your crups , by any chance?" Walburga's voice dripped with sarcasm, a clear hint at the widely-held, only half-joking belief that Arcturus Black was far more devoted to the upkeep of his prizewinning bloodline of both show-line and working-line crups than to the cultivation of his own family tree.
After all, if asked, one could be certain as to which of the two anyone would proclaim to be the more successful of the two.
"If you'll recall, I said I've a meeting at St. Mungo's this morning" Arcturus replied, choosing to ignore the obvious jibe as he marched off towards the fireplace. He stood before the hearth and looked round once more at Walburga. His face broke into a faint, amused smile as he caught sight of her look of confusion - a look well hidden to untrained eyes, but in plain view for a more experienced Black.
"I suppose you thought I'd made all that up, hmm?" Arcturus asked wryly.
Walburga pursed her lips and looked away, answering her father-in-law's question more clearly than if she'd spoken aloud.
Arcturus chuckled.
"I'd be in rather a sticky spot with the Minister when she arrives home this evening and confronts her husband about a meeting which never occurred, wouldn't you say?"
"I've long since given up attempting to assume the limit of what you would do to achieve your aims" Walburga replied frostily, making no effort to remove herself from the corner by the window to see her guest out, as decorum would dictate.
"And you'd be right to"
Arcturus took a handful of Floo powder in his gnarled fingers. "I will return this evening. I assume that dinner in this house is still served promptly at eight, as always?"
Walburga paused, taken aback by the question. It had been a long time since she'd had cause to put on a formal dinner, the likes of which she'd once insisted on her family sitting down to nightly.
With no one left to join her at the vast, oak dining table, what would have been the point?
"Yes, of course"
"Good. I'll be here for quarter-to. Make sure the boy is presentable"
Wasting no further time on the frivolousness of fond farewells, Arcturus stepped into the fireplace, ordered it to take him to St. Mungo's hospital, and was gone in a flash of bright green flames.
The moment he was gone, Walburga leaned back against the wall behind her. She sighed and rubbed her temple wearily. The drama of the day's events had drained her - and the day had scarcely yet begun! After several years in self-imposed seclusion - with the days ticking by monotonously, one after the next - she felt ill-equipped to deal with the flurry of mixed emotions which this morning had thrust upon her.
She wanted a smoke. Badly.
Her head turned at the sound of a slight rattling noise coming from the far corner of the room. Crouched in the shadows, discreetly hidden away, was Kreacher. The elf stood with the heavy, silver serving tray still held aloft in his spindly arms. He looked suitably nervous to have witnessed a private altercation between his mistress and her father-in-law.
Walburga was not one to spare much thought on the subject of what might be going through her house elf's head - after all, his was not the place to have opinions, merely to follow her orders - but the thought of her lowly servant having witnessed his mistress receiving a dressing down from the head of the family still brought a flush of irritation to her cheeks.
"Will Kreacher return to the kitchen now, Mistress?" croaked the elf. He stepped forward out of the shadows upon realising that he had at last been spotted. The contents of his tray rattled again as his arms strained from having carried their burden for so long - not that he would ever dare to set it down without permission.
"No"
Kreacher's large ears twitched curiously, but he did not dare question his mistress's decision.
Walburga smoothed her skirts and marched briskly across the room towards the door, beckoning for the elf to follow her.
"I require a word with my son"
"Kreacher will wait-"
"You will follow me," Walburga ordered. She was irked by the elf's uncharacteristic presumptuous manner.
She eyed the plate on the tray, laden with all manner of greasy breakfast foods, now beginning to grow cold where they sat.
"After all, Master Sirius will be wanting his breakfast"
It had been a long time since Walburga had ventured to the topmost floor of Number Twelve. She'd had no reason to venture up that staircase which she so often willed herself to forget existed. There was nothing to be found behind either of the two doors facing each other at the end of the landing - nothing besides a tidal wave of memories which previous experience had taught her led to nothing but an evening spent surrounded by too many empty gin glasses hidden in a fog of cigarette smoke, ruined eyeliner and a piercing headache the following morning.
It wouldn't do to end up in such a shameful state too often. And so Walburga shut the staircase out of her mind, and had done so for the last five years.
Until today.
With each step upwards, she felt her chest tighten a little more, her instincts urging her to turn back at once, lest she repeat the mistakes of her previous ventures. But this time, she journeyed upwards with purpose. There was unfinished business waiting for her at the top, behind the door on the right-hand side, with it's dusty plaque bearing the name of its occupant.
"Wait here until I call you" Walburga told the elf at her feet.
Kreacher nodded and pressed himself against the wall.
Walburga gave the door two brisk knocks and entered without waiting for a response.
"What's the point of knocking if you're just going to barge right in anyway?"
Sirius sat in the middle of the bed, lounging back against the headboard with his arms folded, the picture of teenage sulkiness.
Walburga felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him. Combined with his annoyed, snappish tone, she felt as a moment as though she'd fallen victim to a time turner, and had been hurled back into the past to a time which now felt like a dream. A time when she might have marched into her teenage son's room to confront him after yet another everyday misdemeanour.
But the past was long-gone, and Sirius was not the errant sixteen-year-old boy he had been when Walburga had last been confronted by his scowling face upon entering his bedroom, as his thin frame, gaunt face and tangled, overgrown hair quickly reminded her.
Her eyes flickered down at the bed. It had been several years since anyone had last entered this room, and in the absence of any instructions to do so, the elf had not kept up with cleaning it. As a result, the bed covers, though neatly made, were coated in a noticeable layer of dust.
"Really, Sirius Orion," Walburga dealt her son a withering look. "Did you not think it would be sensible to ask for the bed to be cleaned before sitting on it?"
Sirius's face hardened at his mother's question. His eyes flickered around the room, clearly determined not to meet her gaze.
In true Sirius fashion, he had either been so caught up in his own temper that he hadn't realised the state of the bed before hurling himself down upon it, or else, lacking a wand with which to do it himself, the thought of asking someone else to clean it for him was too unthinkable to consider, and so he had stubbornly sat on it regardless.
Walburga sighed and shook her head. Silly boy. She took out her elm wand and gave it a flick in the direction of the bed.
Sirius flinched at the gesture, no doubt expecting it to unleash some untold horror upon him, concocted within his own imagination. He'd always had such a very vivid mind, after all.
He visibly relaxed, however, when the layer of dust on the bed beneath him disappeared, leaving the best as pristine as if it had been freshly made that day.
"I could have done it myself" Sirius offered by way of a less-than-satisfactory thanks. "If I had a wand "
"That is entirely out of the question," Walburga said briskly. She gave her wand another flick at the door behind her. It clicked shut. Satisfied, she tucked her wand back inside her skirt pocket. "You are forbidden from practising magic until your trial"
"A trial which I don't want and don't intend on returning from" Sirius tossed his head in frustration. "So I don't see the point in bothering with whatever daft rules the Ministry have decided on"
Walburga took a sharp breath and clenched her jaw hard in an effort to control her rising temper at Sirius's atrocious threat. She looked hard at her firstborn, taking in the challenging look plastered across his face. In years gone by, such a clear provocation would have immediately ignited her temper, rewarding Sirius with the argument he clearly wanted.
"That may be" She forced herself to keep her voice even. "But whatever your intentions, the restrictions are already in place, so I'm afraid you are bound by them until the day of your trial"
"Which is when, exactly?"
Sirius sounded almost subdued, having been denied the reaction he'd clearly expected of his mother.
"In two weeks' time" Walburga forced her words not to catch in her throat as she spoke. "On 2nd April"
Sirius groaned.
"Two weeks? Really?" His voice was heavy with impatience. "I thought those old Ministry stiffs would have wanted to get me kicked back into Azkaban quicker than that"
"If they'd had their way, they would have" Walburga snapped in annoyance. How dare he sound so keen to give up all she had acquired for him? "But your grandfather and I were able to convince them to allow time for a proper trial to be organised. To give us time to put together a case"
Sirius snorted with laughter.
"A case for getting me off the hook? Good luck with that"
"Enough of this ridiculous talk" Walburga said sharply. She shot her son one of her hard, warning glares, and was satisfied when the smirk on his face was replaced by a dissatisfied frown.
Not as remorseful as she'd like, but it would do. For now.
"So, what are these restrictions, anyway?" Sirius asked, tactfully changing the topic.
"As I said, you are forbidden to practice magic. At all"
"Great"
"Secondly" Walburga pressed on, ignoring Sirius's moody sigh and roll of his eyes. "You are confined to this house entirely, until the day of your trial"
Sirius's eyes flickered up to look at her questioningly.
"What, you mean I can't even go out for a bit of fresh air?"
"Absolutely not"
"You mean I'm trapped inside this house?!" Sirius sat up straighter, his voice rising. There was a flicker of alarm in his eyes.
"If that's the way you want to look at it, yes" Walburga answered, irritably.
"That's inhuman!"
"Don't talk nonsense, Sirius"
"Well it is! Azkaban is one thing but they can't expect me to stay locked up in this house for two weeks! "
"Well that's the way it is" Walburga said sharply, her nostrils flaring with anger at her son's ungrateful response. "The Ministry have placed enchantments around the outside of the house which will prevent you from leaving and alert them to the attempt. So I wouldn't think about attempting a getaway through your bedroom window, if I were you"
An uncomfortable pause followed as Walburga realised the full impact of her words. Sirius's grey eyes, identical to her own, looked up at her for a moment, and then looked away. Both parties sensed the other's clear discomfort at the stark reference to the night Sirius had run away from home.
"Anything else?" Sirius asked, his voice muted. He slouched back against the headboard of the bed and folded his arms tight across his chest.
"Yes" Walburga stiffened and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "The Ministry will monitor who comes in and out of the house"
She tried to keep her intense irritation at this intrusiveness out of her voice. The thought of her quicksilver son being kept securely under lock and key within the house, where she could keep a close eye on him, was reassuring. The thought of Ministry officials nosing into the comings and goings of her house, however, was irksome to say the least.
Judging by the spark of mischief twinkling in her son's eyes, she had failed in her endeavour.
"Old Crouch still trying to tunnel his way into the family secrets then, is he?" Sirius asked with a smirk.
"How many times must I tell you not to talk nonsense?" Walburga scolded her son - but did not deny his claims. "It is purely a matter of confidentiality. It would be sensible for a few people as possible to know you are here. The entire country currently thinks you to be a murderer, after all"
Sirius's cocky smirk disappeared, a dark shadow eclipsing his features.
"Yeah well, they'd be right about that much, if I had my way"
"Sirius Orion!"
"Well it's true" Sirius snapped. His entire body tensed, like a predator ready to pounce. "I wanted to kill the rat that night and I'd kill him today, if I could"
There was a dangerous, almost canine growl at the back of Sirius's throat as he spoke, the likes of which his mother could not recall having ever heard from him before.
It was unsettling.
Walburga silently observed her firstborn for a moment. So much of the young man before her resembled the son she remembered from his childhood; the spark of mischief, the careless, laid-back attitude, the natural tendency to slip into an atrocious posture. But there now lurked something new, as well. Something cold and unfamiliar which she did not recognise. His years away from home had left their mark upon Sirius Orion in the form of a worrying dark streak which could snuff out the light on his face and take over instantly, like the flickering flame of a candle, vanquished by the slightest breeze.
She reached out a hand towards Sirius. He eyed her warily but did not resist as she took hold of his chin and tilted it upward in her palm. She ran her eyes over his face searchingly. To her surprise, he didn't resist the hold as she tilted his head round towards her. If anything, his expression almost seemed to soften as she traced her thumb along the bone which jutted out above his hollowed cheek.
"You need to eat"
Sirius turned his head away. Walburga reluctantly allowed his face to slip out of her grasp.
"I'm not hungry" he muttered, unconvincingly.
"Of course you are," Walburga said, firmly. "You might be over your illness but you still have a way to go yet before you are fully recovered. You need a proper breakfast"
"I'm not eating any more of the bloody porridge cr-"
"Is that what I said?" Walburga cut him off cleanly, raising her eyebrows in a gesture which assured her son that she expected an answer.
"No" Sirius murmured with a frown.
"Well then" Walburga retrieved her wand from her skirt pocket once more and gave it a swish in the direction of the bedroom door. The door swung open, revealing the house elf stood dutifully behind it, his arms still outstretched, bearing the silver platter of food.
"Really, Sirius, I don't know why you trouble yourself with trying to deceive me" Walburga dealt her son a withering look as she stood up and made way for the approaching elf. "We both know full well that lying is not one of your talents. 'Not hungry' - a likely story!"
A flush of colour filled Sirius's cheeks and he turned his head away, folding his arms tighter across his chest sulkily.
Walburga couldn't help but smile fondly. Her stubborn boy was back, once again.
"Kreacher, serve Master Sirius his breakfast" she ordered as she swished her wand at the bed and conjured a tray table.
"What is it?" Sirius asked, eyeing the platter suspiciously as the house elf obediently floated it up onto the table and bowed lowly.
"Precisely what you ordered, of course"
Sirius leaned forward as the plate landed neatly on the tabletop and revealed the full English he himself had indeed requested earlier that morning.
He stared at the plate in silence, appearing less than delighted with the array of lukewarm, greasy food before him. He swallowed thickly, his nose wrinkling tellingly at the smell of the food.
Walburga felt a bemused sense of satisfaction as she observed his thoughts, clearly plastered on his face.
"What's the matter?" Walburga tilted her head in feigned confusion. "This is what you wanted, is it not? A 'decent fry-up'? "
Sirius shot his mother a challenging look, his eyes flickering when he found the same look being aimed back at him by Walburga. A moment of silent understanding of the situation at hand passed between them.
"Yes, that's what I wanted" Sirius replied courteously, sitting himself up straighter on the bed. "It's just that it's been sat on the plate so long that it's gotten a tad... cold"
Walburga tapped the plate with her wand. Plumes of steam rose up from the sausages, eggs, bacon and tomatoes. The faint sizzling of hot grease filled the air.
"There. Problem solved" Walburga smiled sweetly.
Sirius's hollow smile remained.
"Oh, and one more thing..." Walburga gave her wand a swish at the dusty bedside table. With a faint pop , the potion bottles which had littered the bedside table of the Emerald Room appeared. "You haven't had your potions yet this morning, I assume?"
Sirius frowned at the table beside him.
"What's the point? I'm hardly about to drop dead any time soon, thanks to you"
"You still need several more days' worth to ensure that the fading fever is completely gone from your system" Walburga said firmly, forcing herself not to dwell on the disappointed way in which Sirius spoke of the threat of his own demise. "Now, can I trust you to take them yourself or ought I stay and assist you?"
"Alright, I'll take the bloody potions" Sirius snapped.
"Good"
Walburga pocketed her wand.
"Now, eat up" she ordered as she turned to leave, gesturing for Kreacher to precede her out of the room. "And then you ought to go back to sleep for a while. You look worn out"
"Are you intending to keep me in bed for the whole of the next two weeks?" Sirius shot his mother an irritated look, twirling the silver fork between his fingers. He was clearly hoping to delay having to take the first mouthful of his food until Walburga had left.
"Don't be absurd, Sirius Orion, of course not" Walburga replied as she dealt her son a withering look. "I'll expect you downstairs at one o'clock for luncheon - properly rested and suitably dressed "
She nodded towards the wardrobe across from the bed.
"Most of your robes should still fit, more or less"
"Given that I'm not sixteen anymore-" Sirius sliced off a minute piece of sausage with the side of his fork, but pushed it around the plate aimlessly instead of bringing it to his mouth. "-I wouldn't bank on any of them still fitting"
There it was again. That challenging spark in his eyes.
"We can always let them down a little, if need be" Walburga said firmly. "Hardly an ideal situation but it will have to do until we can get you some new ones. What a hidden mercy it was that you saw fit to leave so many good sets of robes behind - you have quite the selection to choose from, I'm quite sure you'll find something that fits"
Sirius glared sullenly, the closest he would willingly come to admitting defeat. He at last lifted his fork to his mouth and took a clearly-reluctant nibble on his chunk of sausage.
Walburga gave a slight nod of approval at seeing him swallow determinedly.
"One o'clock sharp" she said by way of farewell from the doorway, pointing towards the clock on the mantelpiece. "Don't be late"
As the grandfather clock at the far end of the dining room struck quarter-past one, Walburga sighed.
Deep down, she'd warned herself that it was too much to hope for that Sirius would arrive for lunch on time, but nevertheless, finding herself sitting facing an empty chair at the dining table with a perfectly good meal sat getting cold was no less irritating.
She drummed her fingers impatiently against the tablecloth. It was just like her son to cause her such needless annoyance.
No doubt he was hungry - his mother doubted very much that he'd managed to eat much of the fried breakfast she'd presented him with. Not that she'd expected him to, of course. The thought of allowing Sirius to endure an unsatisfying (not to mention unfilling) breakfast was a hard one for her to bear, but it was necessary. It was a crude way to teach a lesson, perhaps, but it was one that her stubborn boy needed to learn. She was certain that a few stomach-churning rashers of lukewarm, grease-soaked bacon would be enough to ensure that he would not question her authority on the definition of a suitable breakfast again.
Clearly Sirius was forcing himself to reject what Walburga had ensured was a far more appetising-smelling and suitable luncheon out of pure spite.
Her gaze rested on the face of the grand clock once again as it ticked slowly towards twenty-past the hour. Walburga wondered exactly how long she ought to give her errant son to appear of his own accord.
No, she told herself firmly. If Sirius hadn't arrived by now, he clearly had no intention to. Many such occasions during his teenage years had taught Walburga that if her son intended to appear for a meal, he would arrive on time, or not at all.
She flicked her wand at the large pot of steaming lamb stew which sat in the centre of the table, surrounded by smaller platters of various breads, fruits and cheeses, and conjured a lid to cover it.
"Kreacher" Walburga called, summoning the house elf who appeared immediately at her side. "Keep the table ready. I will return shortly"
Kreacher nodded.
"Of course, Mistress" mumbled the elf with a dip of his head. He waved his spindly fingers at the table, casting a protective spell around the spread to protect it during his mistress's absence.
Simmering with irritation, Walburga marched from the room and headed towards the staircase, intent of retrieving her son for lunch - whether he liked it or not.
Forgoing the courtesy knock that she had offered that morning, Walburga flung open the door on the topmost landing and marched into her son's bedroom.
"Sirius Orion Black, I specifically told you to be downstairs at one o'-"
Walburga paused mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on the bed in the centre of the room in shock. Not only was the bed unoccupied, it was also still neatly made and clearly un-slept-in.
An intense sense of dread washed over her like a bucket of ice water. Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes darted towards the window. A gasp of shock wrenched itself from within her as she realised to her horror that it was flung open, in the exact same way that she'd found it on that awful morning eight years ago.
Walburga flew across the room to the window, casting aside the desk underneath it with a furious force of wandless magic, and leaned as far out as she could. Her eyes frantically searched the streets below, desperate for a glimpse of her missing son, a sign of where he might be.
"Sirius!" she screeched into the air. A dreadful panic bubbled up within her as she was met with no reply other than her own voice, echoing back across the empty street below.
Walburga turned away from the window and looked around the bedroom. Unlike last time, the drawers and wardrobe were closed, with no evidence of anything having been hurriedly packed before an escape. But then, what would be left for him to want to take that he hadn't taken last time?
Her head was spinning as she frantically paced the length of the room, silently pleading for none of this to be real, to wake from this awful dream, for her son to be in this room, where he belonged…
Suddenly, a feeble whimpering noise came from under the bed, followed by the faint sound of scratching against the floorboards.
Walburga froze. She stared at the gap between the bed and the floor, puzzled.
"What on earth…?"
Another whimper. Another scratching. A pair of most peculiar sounds, and certainly neither of them were human.
Instantly on high alert, Walburga drew her wand and pointed it threateningly at the darkness beneath the bed. Something was in here. Some foul, unwelcome creature, magic or otherwise, which must have seized the opportunity to slink in through the open window and make itself at home.
" Lumos " Walburga murmured as she crouched down and pointed her wand at the dark space under the bed. She peered closely into the path of light, and no sooner did the sound of a deep, warning growl fill the air than she had caught sight of a shining pair of eyes and a set of gleaming, sharp teeth, snarling up at her.
" Reducto! "
With a furious flourish of her wand, the blast from Walburga's wand cracked the bed neatly in two, jagged halves which caving in on the beast's hiding space.
With a startled whine, the creature scrambled free from the debris of the bed. In the daylight, Walburga could see that it was a dog - impressive in size, though far too skinny for its build. Its shaggy fur was black in colour, dull and dirty. With the state it was in, it was clear that this was a street mongrel of neither good breeding nor temperament. It wore no collar, and a fearful, defensive expression as it neatly dodged the stinging hex Walburga hurled at it.
Walburga hurled spell after spell at the creature, as she attempted to drive it back towards the window which it must surely have snuck in through. But a dog clever enough to make its way through an upstairs window was also clever enough to predict her moves, and each of her spells narrowly missed their target - until one didn't.
The dog let out a pained whine as the flash of yellow from Walburga's stinging hex struck one of its front paws. The startled creature limped several steps to the side, into a stream of sunlight coming through the open window.
Walburga raised her wand to strike the mutt with a binding spell - but hesitated.
The dog was staring at her with a wounded, sullen expression. It's ears were back, it's shoulders hunched, its tail tucked tight between its legs. One could almost say that it looked sulky.
It was an expression she could have sworn she recognised all too well.
The dog's eyes caught the sunlight, and Walburga realised with a startled jolt that they were a particularly-distinct shade of grey - an exact mirror of her own.
"Sirius…?" Walburga spoke hesitantly, not quite believing what she was suggesting, but still somehow unable to stop herself.
The dog looked away from her. It seemed nervous of her. Its ears flattening further against its head. It let out a pathetic whine in the back of its throat and limped back towards the broken bed, holding up the paw which Walburga had struck with her stinging hex as it attempted to find a way to crawl back under the broken bed frame.
"Ah, ah!" Walburga lifted her wand in warning, but did not cast a spell. She had no need to.
As she suspected it would, the dog froze, abandoning its attempt to retreat back into the safety of the dark space under the bed.
Her suspicions were further confirmed by the way the dog's grey eyes - an impressive colour indeed for a mere mongrel - outright refused to meet her own.
"It is you, isn't it?" Walburga slowly walked around the end half of the bed to stand before the dog.
The creature's thin frame was tense, as though it wanted nothing more than to dart back into the safety of under the bed, but knowing better than to attempt to.
Walburga slowly dropped to her knees to be at eye-level with the dog. She reached out her wand, still not quite trusting her ever-growing suspicions enough to take too much risk, and tilted the dog's head up with her wand tip.
"My my," said Walburga, running her eyes up and down the dog's form. "This is a rather impressive work of magic, I must say"
The dog's flattened ears pricked up slightly at the sound of Walburga's praise.
Walburga smiled. Her suspicions were confirmed.
But how on earth had he achieved such a feat?
She removed her wand and replaced it with her hand, cupping the dog's snout with her palm. She was now more than confident that this was not a dog which would so much as consider biting her.
He wouldn't dare.
"I can't say I'm surprised by your form, of course" The dog let out a faint whine at Walburga's words. "After all, what else would you be?
She released her hold on the dog's snout and moved her hand to gently stroke the fur between his ears. The dog relaxed ever so slightly, and when she gave him a little scratch behind one ear, his tail gave an automatic thump of approval against the floor.
The dog whined suddenly and pulled away from her, as though startled by the sound of his own tail.
Walburga couldn't help but give a little, knowing smirk. That was most definitely her son hiding within this canine disguise.
She rose once more to her feet and brushed away the flecks from the disturbed layers of dust which had clung themselves to her gown during the altercation.
"Now, as I'm sure you have by now realised, I have some questions which require answering"
The dog let out a slight whimper at her feet, his ears pressed tightly against his head once more.
"So, I think it's high time you turned back into my son"
Walburga spoke with a sense of authority that assured the dog that she was not asking - she was ordering.
A few moments later, the dog was gone. And stood before her, with an expression equally as sullen in human form as it had been in canine, was Sirius.
Walburga folded her arms, fixing her son with a stern glare, the likes of which she had dealt him countless times as a child when he'd been sent to her for chastisement after his latest crimes. The wand balanced delicately between her slender fingers tapped expectantly against her elbow, with delicate silver sparks emitting from the tip.
Sirius, meanwhile, avoided her gaze almost entirely. His gaze flickered up from the floor occasionally, as if to gauge her mood. Right from when he was a small boy, he'd never been able to look her in the eye when he knew he was in trouble.
"It's funny - I kept on at you for years about how ugly that bed frame was," he remarked finally. "Didn't think you'd ever end up destroying it for me"
Walburga disregarded Sirius's attempt to wriggle his way out of trouble with a joke. It had never once worked on her, and for the life of her she couldn't work out why he thought it might work now.
With her eyes still firmly fixed on her son, she lifted her wand towards the broken bed.
" Reparo " she ordered smoothly.
The two broken halves of the wooden frame instantly repaired themselves. Not a scar remained on the wood to suggest any damage had ever been done.
Sirius half-grimaced at the sight of his repaired bed.
"I suppose that's any hope of a new one gone out the window, then"
"Be quiet , Sirius" Walburga snapped, her temper immediately flaring at the suggestion of anything leaving this room via a window, metaphorically or otherwise.
The faint smirk threatening to take hold on Sirius's face disappeared instantly.
She took hold of his hand, the one which had replaced the paw she had struck with her stinging hex, and examined it closely. A faint red mark lingered on the skin, a harmless after-effect of her hex. Perhaps a little tender, but nothing more.
Even so, Walburga felt a stab of regret in the pit of her stomach as she examined her son's hand.. Of course, if she'd known …
"You didn't think I'd made a bolt through the window, did you?"
There was a faint trace of amusement in Sirius's words which made Walburga's ears prickle as they reddened in response.
"Of course not" she snapped, busying herself with further examining the red mark on his hand. "As I said, the Ministry has placed enchantments around the house. You wouldn't have made it past the window sill"
The matter-of-fact tone of her voice clearly left her son unconvinced.
"Yeah. Of course"
Walburga forced herself not to reply. She pressed the tip of her wand to the red mark on his hand and murmured the spell to repair the damage. Sirius winced slightly at the tingle of the spell's magic on his skin as it healed.
"Thanks" Sirius muttered as his mother released his hand from her grip. He held the hand close to his chest, still refusing to look up at her.
"Come," Walburga's hands fumbled slightly as she tucked her wand back inside her pocket. She gestured for Sirius to follow her out of the room. "You are late for luncheon. The food will be spoiled"
"Thought you wanted me to get all dressed up first?" Sirius glanced down at his dressing gown and slippers.
"Never mind that now" Walburga snapped impatiently. "You need to eat"
"I think you'll find I have" There was a note of triumph in Sirius's voice as he nodded to the empty plate on the tray table, discarded on the floor.
Walburga's eyes widened at the sight of the empty plate. The foolish boy had indeed forced down the entire plateful of muck. He was still far too delicate to manage such a meal - she was surprised he'd not been sick!
She quickly stifled her shock when she realised that he had at last looked straight at her. He wore a challenging expression, clearly viewing this foolhardiness as some sort of victory. After all, there was surely no reason Sirius would have put himself through such an ordeal other than the fact that it was precisely what his mother didn't expect him to do.
"You need to eat something of actual substance, Sirius Orion" she fixed her son with a sharp look. "And we will discuss this latest development whilst you do"
The expression plastered across her son's face assured Walburga that there was nothing Sirius less like to do than explain to his mother how he'd come to be cowering under his bed as a dog. But, to her satisfaction, he wisely decided against further resisting the inevitable and allowed his mother to lead him out of the room.
Eight years. Eight years it had been since Sirius Black had last sat at this dining room table, and yet, to look at the spread laid out before him, it could well have only been yesterday.
If there was one thing his mother could be relied upon, it was that nothing would ever persuade her to change a thing. The table was draped in the same hideous white tablecloth, embroidered with black flowers, as pristine as the day it was bought, no doubt at least three decades ago. The same gaudy, gold-rimmed water carafes and goblets glinted in the light, one set beside each placing. The bread, fruit and cheese still sat on the same bone china plates, each one stamped with the Black family crest, a feature which Sirius had always felt soured the taste of the food they held. And the lamb stew, one of his favourite meals, steaming away inside the exact same serving dish.
However, whereas the aroma of the slow-cooked meat would once have made his insides ache with longing, with a stomach full of forced-down fried breakfast, Sirius found himself with very little desire to eat any of the food laid out on the table.
Eight years, and Walburga Black still knew precisely which of Sirius's buttons to press to get her desired results.
"Eat up," Walburga ordered briskly from behind his chair as she guided the dish and ladle with her wand to dole out a generous portion of the lamb stew onto Sirius's plate.
Sirius suppressed a grimace as he caught a whiff of the food. The delicious smell filled his nose and sent a wave of desire running through him. Years of prison scraps had deprived him of the memory of what good food smelled like.
A newly-returned sensation tarnished by the fact that he felt an irritating lack of hunger after unwisely forcing down the breakfast he'd realised too late was a bad idea.
Just as his mother knew he would.
Damn her.
Nevertheless, he soldiered on, picking up his silver fork and spearing one of the more modest-sized chunks of lamb. He stirred it in the gravy, conscious of his mother's shadow still looming over him. He didn't need to look round to see the beady look in her eyes, daring him to refuse to eat, and prove her right.
He brought the meat to his lips and took a small bite. The tender lamb practically fell apart at the slightest provocation - cooked to perfection.
The delicious taste made Sirius's stomach churn.
He felt his mother's hand fall to rest on his shoulder and give it a slight squeeze of approval. The head of her shadow jolted as she gave a single nod before taking her own seat across the table, opposite him.
"So," Once she'd seen Sirius take a second bite of lamb, Walburga served herself a modest helping of fruit and cheese. Her steely gaze darted up to check on his progress every few moments as she set about buttering a bread roll. "We needn't waste time with small talk. Tell me when you became an Animagus"
The potato Sirius had stoically been in the process of consuming forced its way down his throat like a jagged stone.
"I don't-"
"Do not waste my time, Sirius Orion" Walburga cut in sharply as she set down her butter knife with a tad more force than strictly necessary. "You know as well as I that there is no other means by which you could so easily turn yourself into an animal and back again - let alone without a wand. Now tell me, when did you learn how to transform?"
Sirius set down his fork, abandoning his attempt to face forcing down another chunk of lamb.
"It was - a while ago" he murmured, staring down at the embroidery of the tablecloth.
"Given that you've spent the last three years in prison, I'd say that much was rather obvious" Walburga replied tartly as she popped a grape into her mouth. "I suppose this all came about whilst you were living with that Potter boy?"
Sirius felt a painful knot tightening in the pit of his stomach at the mention of James. He turned his head away from the steaming plate of food, the rich smells making him feel more nauseous by the moment.
"No" he forced himself to reply. He knew full well she'd only demand it of him if he didn't.
"No?" Walburga sounded impatient. Her food sat on her plate, all pretence of being interested in the task of eating gone. Her gaze was fixed firmly on her firstborn. "Well when , then?"
"Before"
Silence filled the room as Walburga processed her son's answer.
"You… became an Animagus, before you left home?"
Sirius leaned back in his chair in an attempt to avoid the increasingly-overpowering smell of the lamb stew. He couldn't stand this. Any of it. It was too much. He felt ill.
Walburga, meanwhile, had paled in shock as realisation dawned on her.
"You were sixteen…"
"Fifteen"
"I beg your pardon? "
Anyone in acquaintance with Walburga Black was well aware of the fact that she found muttering under one's breath to be irritating to the point of angering. But to look at her now, her jaw clenched tight, her shoulders tensed and her pupils reduced to narrow slits, Sirius knew that this was no mere annoyance to her. His mother was absolutely furious.
"You were still at school" Walburga seethed, her voice trembling. "You were a child "
"No I wasn't" Sirius shot back with all the irritation as if he was still that same teenager, irked at being belittled.
"Yes you were!" Walburga rose to her feet so forcefully that the force of her chair as it was pushed backwards rattled the silverware on the table.
Sirius's blood ran cold as he was at last faced with his mother's true form, the likes of which he'd endured in an endless montage of during flashbacks in Azkaban, and which she had, until now, somehow managed to keep disguised under a facade of firm yet gentle caring towards him.
But the sickle had to drop at some point - and after all, a nundu never changes its spots.
"Fifteen years old and practising such dangerous magic - what on earth were you thinking?! "
Revealing the truth was not an option. Sirius didn't even consider it. Perhaps it was out of some strange, stubborn sense of loyalty which refused to release its hold of him. Perhaps it was because the angry, condescending way his mother shouted at him always filled Sirius with an overpowering desire to deny her on principle.
Whatever the reason why, Sirius simply shrugged in response.
Walburga sucked in a sharp breath in response to her son's insolence. Her knuckles whitened as her grip around the handle of the wand she had subconsciously withdrawn tightened.
Sirius braced himself, but the hex he expected did not come. He glanced across the table at his mother, awaiting her reaction. To his surprise, she took several deep, shuddering breaths and slowly sat back down in her seat.
"I suppose the fact that both you and Pettigrew are Animagi is no coincidence?" Walburga asked, quietly. She busied her hands with the process of pouring herself a glass of water with her wand. The carafe shook a little from the unsteadiness of her magic.
"What?" Sirius tensed at the sound of the rat's name, his arm frozen outstretched in the middle of attempting to reach for his own carafe of water.
Walburga shot him a look of mild disapproval at his coarse language but did not comment. She flicked her wand across the table and poured Sirius's glass of water for him.
"After all, it is far too unlikely to consider - two underage wizards undertaking such a ridiculously dangerous stunt separately. Did Pettigrew coerce you into joining him in this endeavor?"
Sirius gave a soft snort of bitter amusement at the suggestion that the rat could have been the one to instrument such a plan, or that he was capable of coercing anyone into anything.
"No" he answered, taking a sip of water in the hope of settling his stomach.
His mother peered across the table at him with a knowing look.
"Did he have anything to do with this?" she asked, icily.
Sirius was far too used to his mother's distaste towards his closest friend not to recognise precisely who she was referring to.
"Yes," he shot back proudly, matching his mother's hard look. He sat up straighter, fuelled by the surge of defensiveness that Walburga's disapproval always triggered within him when she spoke of James. "James was involved. He was one too"
Walburga gave a sniff and shook her head disapprovingly.
"I ought to have guessed" she remarked, glaring absently. "Merlin knows we knew that boy was a bad influence on you, what with the endless letters about your behaviour. But to drag you into something like this -"
"It wasn't James's idea" Sirius's brow furrowed. "It was mine"
Walburga's eyes widened. Their sharp gaze fixed on Sirius, who met them with a look of proud defiance.
Her nostrils flared, her mouth thinned, but Walburga's temper did not flare up at this latest development as her son expected.
"My, my" she said in a chillingly cool voice. "And what, pray tell, gave you the inspiration to attempt such a dangerous feat of illegal magic?"
"It isn't illegal to become an Animagus" Sirius retorted in a vain attempt to avoid the question.
"It is when you are fifteen years old and unsupervised, Sirius Orion" Walburga shot back sharply.
"Since when did this family care about Ministry supervision?" Sirius argued. "Plenty of Blacks have been unregistered Animagi"
"That may be so, but none of them became as such without the family's knowledge, nor did they risk expulsion from school whilst doing it" Walburga replied sharply. "Now tell me - what possessed you to do such a thing?"
"I just-" Sirius waved a hand aimlessly in the air as he searched for an answer. "I read it in a book somewhere and thought it would be a bit of fun"
"Fun" Walburga repeated, her clear annoyance bubbling up once more. "You thought that risking permanent disfigurement to turn yourself into an animal would be 'a bit of fun' ?"
"In a word, yes"
Walburga's anger was clear to see. It was plastered across her elegant features, as clear as day. But there was something else - a flicker of something which lurked just beneath the surface, not quite able to allow itself full reign over her.
And suddenly, like the flicker of candlelight disappearing in a breath of wind, it all vanished.
"Your food is getting cold"
Walburga's gaze returned to her own plate. She busied herself with cutting a minute bite of cheese and spearing it with her fork.
Sirius observed her for a moment, the muted tone of her voice having thrown him cleanly off the scent of what his mother might do next. Sirius had always known what his mother would do next - and it more often than not involved ferocious shouting, angry hexes thrown at the walls, doors slammed shut in rage. But now, he wasn't sure he knew what to expect at all.
He jumped slightly as Walburga's eyes flitted upwards as she lifted her fork to her mouth and caught him staring at her.
"What's the matter, Sirius?" she asked, her head tilted in concern. "Aren't you hungry?"
Sirius glanced down at his plate. The few bites he'd managed had felt like a mammoth achievement, and yet the plate still seemed irritatingly full.
He took up his fork and determinedly speared another piece of lamb. He lifted it halfway to his mouth - and then paused.
He couldn't do it. He slammed his fork back down onto his plate and leaned back in his chair, away from the table.
Across the table, Walburga's expression practically gleamed with satisfaction, only half heartedly disguised as concern.
"Turning down food?" she shook her head sadly. "My goodness, this isn't like you at all"
Sirius burned with angry humiliation at having to admit defeat.
Walburga set aside her own fork and summoned the house elf.
With a loud CRACK which made Sirius wince, Kreacher appeared beside the table.
"Kreacher, clear the table" Walburga ordered, getting to her feet.
The elf's ears twitched with concern at the sight of the barely-touched spread.
"Is the food not done well, Mistress?" he asked, worriedly. "Kreacher will do better next-"
"There is nothing wrong with the food, Kreacher," said Walburga, as she strolled across to stand beside her still-seated son. "I'm afraid that Master Sirius has rather overindulged at breakfast and now finds himself unable to eat a proper, nutritious lunch as a result"
Sirius glared upwards in response to the disapproving look he could practically feel radiating from his mother.
"I'm sure his appetite will have returned by dinner" she remarked. "Ensure that the dining room is set up and ready in time for eight o'clock"
Kreacher bowed silently in response and quickly set about magicking away the plates of food.
"A dinner? Really?" Sirius frowned up at his mother questioningly. Had his mother really kept up the ridiculous carry-on of a formal dinner in the dining room all these years?
"Of course, Sirius" Walburga replied firmly. "Your grandfather will be joining us"
If she noticed the way Sirius grimaced at the mention of Arcturus, Walburga did not react to it. She ran her hand through Sirius's tangled hair, thoughtfully.
"You need a proper tidy-up first, though" she said. "I'll have the elf run you a bath - and then it's high time I sorted out your hair"
Sirius had to admit, the thought of a bath was a sorely tempting one. He'd long-since figured out that his mother must have tackled most of the grime of Azkaban with cleaning charms when he'd first arrived, but even magic was no real substitute for good old soap and water.
He may have swapped one prison for another, but at least the facilities here was marginally better quality - even if the jailer was twice as haunting.