He knew the question would come sooner or later but that didn't make him feel prepared to answer it.
"How did all of this happen, Harry?"
He was curled up next to Sirius on the couch, right in front of the fireplace. Sirius was stroking his hair, much like Tom used to but it just quite didn't feel the same.
He contemplated how much of the truth he ought to tell Sirius. How much would Sirius be able to digest without hating him?
According to his perception… Not much…
But he couldn't sit silent either. He had to give Sirius something, so he gave him another question in response,
"All of what?"
Sirius's fingers stopped carding through his hair, but Harry made no move to remove his head from his lap,
"You know very well what I'm talking about…. This…. Us spending Christmas with death eaters…They're the enemy, Harry…"
Harry couldn't help it. He sat up straight and faced Sirius,
"They got you out of Azkaban… You would have been stuck there for the rest of your life… Did you really want that to happen?"
Sirius ran his hand over his face, but his restlessness was obvious from his demeanour,
"No…But…"
Harry grabbed Sirius's hands in his as he cut him off,
"They're not the enemy, Sirius… Don't you see that? Don't you see what Dumbledore did to you? Are you really that blind?"
Sirius sighed in frustration,
"None of this makes any sense, Harry. All my life I've hated these people…"
Sirius paused for a second and Harry saw the pain in his eyes as he probably recalled memories,
"These people…They're connected to me by blood, and I left them behind at the age of sixteen…"
Harry couldn't quite get a hold of his astonishment as he inquired,
"Which ones?"
Sirius's gaze moved to where Narcissa and Bellatrix were sitting and chatting animatedly. Harry followed it and couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped his lips,
"That's why she resembles you."
Sirius smiled ruefully,
"They're my cousins."
Harry pursed his lips as he pondered whether he should ask the questions that were burning on the tip of his tongue or not,
"Go on…Ask me…"
Harry drew in a deep breath before asking,
"Why did you leave?"
Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair,
"Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal… my idiot brother was soft enough to believe them…He was younger than me…"
Harry couldn't help but ask,
"Was?"
Sirius nodded,
"He died years ago… Stupid idiot that he was, he joined the Death Eaters."
"You're kidding me?"
Sirius shook his head silently,
"I'm afraid not."
Harry asked hesitantly,
"Were you parents death eaters too?"
"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colours, who thought he had the right idea about things … they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."
"How did your brother die? Was he killed by an Auror?"
Sirius traced a pattern on the couch's expensive brocade surface,
"Oh, no, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."
Harry felt unease swirling in his stomach as Sirius's words played over and over in his mind. Being reminded of how cruel Tom could really be like being doused by icy cold water. But Tom had never pretended to be anything other than what he really was when he'd been around him. He'd reminded him of his cruelty constantly. He'd reminded him of the fact that he was a murderer every single day. He knew what Tom was when he'd gotten himself into this. He had known it so well.
"So, you see why it's so difficult for me to back among them."
Harry cupped Sirius's face as he read the agony in his eyes,
"I did what I had to do to get you out of Azkaban… But that doesn't mean that you have to stay here. If it doesn't feel right to you then I'll ask him to let you leave. You're not bound to these people and you're certainly not obligated to do anything for them."
Sirius held his gaze and inquired softly,
"Him? You mean Voldemort?"
Harry nodded silently,
"So, he really is back then, and you really have been hiding his return."
Harry pulled his hands away from Sirius's face as he turned around to stare at the fireplace,
"He is back, and he is more powerful than ever."
Sirius made an impatient sound,
"Harry… He tried to kill you when you were a baby… He killed your parents… What are you even doing here? Help me understand this…"
Harry laughed bitterly,
"There is nothing to understand, Sirius…"
Sirius rose to his feet and spoke angrily,
"Yes, there is. How can you be loyal to the person who murdered your parents in cold blood?"
Harry rose to his feet as well. Sirius's question had been heard by everyone and the room that been alive with the sound of chatter such a second ago was now eerily quiet.
He was about to respond when he felt a shiver run down his spine and goosebumps erupt all over his skin. He knew that feeling. He knew that only one person could cause it. And then, as if to confirm his intuition, he spoke,
"I think we all want to hear the answer to that, Harry."