May 1980

The next morning, Freya was struggling to feed Annabelle when she heard shrieking in the hallway. "Filth! Scum! Incompetent mudbloods, where is my grandchild?" A moment later Walburga Black stormed into Freya's room, her skin yellowing more than usual under the harsh lights of the room, practically foaming at the mouth as she screeched, "You! You stain of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers! You've stolen away my son, you scumsucking trollop!"

Freya clutched Annabelle to her chest as the baby began crying, adding to the din Walburga was creating. "Regulus left because he wanted to," Freya snapped. "How the hell did you find me?"

"The Black family has many connections," Walburga sneered. "Not that you'll have access to any of them anymore. Where is my son? He'll be wanting to come home with me and his child."

"Like bloody hell you're getting your inbred paws on my child," Freya hissed.

"That child is a Black, and it will be raised in its ancestral home, like every Black before it," Walburga insisted, rushing forward and attempting to take Annabelle. "And where is my SON?" she shrieked, inciting more cries from her granddaughter.

Freya whipped out her wand, waving it quickly at Walburga. "Evarte Statum," Freya said forcefully, her spell hitting Walburga square in the chest and throwing her back against the far wall. She heard her mother-in-law's head crack against the wall, and the old woman hit the floor. "You son is burning in hell, where you belong," Freya growled. "And you will stay the bloody hell away from my daughter. She will never see the inside of that pit you call a home."

Walburga glared at Freya, eyes more alive with hate than the young Gryffindor had ever seen. "You've killed my baby boy?" she demanded as she stood, drawing her own wand.

Freya smirked at her, relishing in her freedom to speak her mind at long last and mentally torture the woman who had put her husband and her brother's best friend through so much pain. "No. Your son did. Regulus cast the curse himself."

Nostrils flaring, Walburga hissed, "You lie. My son would never do such a thing. You lie, you filthy, dirty, blood traitor whore…"

"Expelliarmus!" Walburga's wand flew from her hand, and she shrieked in outrage. Sirius stood in the doorway, wand pointed at his mother. "You're right," Sirius sneered, the similarity to his mother's earlier expression a bit startling to Freya. "Regulus would never intentionally kill himself. He was trying to kill me, resisting arrest for his crimes as a Death Eater, but his spell reflected back on himself. He died trying to uphold your precious pureblood ways, trying to eliminate the blood traitor from your ancient and most noble family tree."

Sirius's calm voice, despite the threatening undertone, helped Annabelle begin to calm down and stop crying. Freya rocked her baby gently as Walburga grinned madly. "Ah, that is much more believable," she said, relieved. "Then my one and only son has died a hero."

"Your son died a criminal and a madman," Sirius jeered. "But don't worry, my dear, sweet mother, you still have one son who is sane and a good man." Walburga snorted disdainfully. "And Freya is right; my niece will never see the inside of your home, and, if we're lucky, she'll never even know you at all."

"You cannot withhold the only heir to the House of Black from me!" Walburga screeched, setting Annabelle off on another round of frightened wails.

"We can, and we will," Sirius said, the authority in his voice unquestionable.

Walburga glared back and forth at the two Gryffindors, weighing her options, before bending over slowly, using the wall to balance herself, and picked up her wand. Scowling, she snapped, "Very well, you win, for now. But mark my words, I will get custody of my granddaughter. I have friends in very high places, and I will make sure that my granddaughter is raised a proper pureblood."

Freya snarled, "My daughter will be raised however I see fit, and she will grow up surrounded by blood traitors, halfbloods, and mudbloods who all love her dearly. And there won't be a single damn thing you can do to stop it." Freya snickered, then taunted, "And who knows? Maybe she'll even have a werewolf for a babysitter."

"How dare you," Walburga started, only to be cut off by Sirius's wand in her face.

"Ah, ah, ah, Mother," Sirius chided lightly, the look in his eyes the only thing that conveyed the true danger he posed to the old woman. "Unless you'd like to take a trip to Azkaban, I suggest you leave before you do something that will let me arrest you." Walburga huffed, then pushed past her disowned son and out the door, disappearing down the corridor. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief as he and Freya lowered their wands. "Sorry about her. She never was very agreeable." Freya shrugged. Noticing the way the nineteen-year-old girl was trembling, Sirius crossed the room and sat down beside her. "Here, I'll take her."

Freya hesitated, still angry with Sirius for Regulus's death, but she handed Annabelle to him anyway, too exhausted and upset to argue with him. Sirius rocked Annabelle slowly in his arms, whispering something to her that Freya couldn't hear. "Thank you for making her leave," Freya muttered as she leaned back against the stack of pillows behind her.

Sirius looked up, making eye contact with Freya. "You're welcome," he mumbled, surprised she was speaking to him.

"Don't get me wrong," Freya warned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I still hate you for killing Regulus."

Sirius snorted. "That's ok, I still hate me for it, too."

"Everyone knows I'm alive by now, I take it?" Freya asked. Sirius nodded. Freya sighed. "I guess it was going to have to happen eventually."

"Dumbledore's keeping the Ministry off your back," Sirius said. "Since you hadn't been declared legally dead yet, and it was just assumed, he's making sure they don't come after you with legal battles. He told them you were kidnapped by Regulus and forced to hide under threat of death."

"So the world knows now that he was a Death Eater," Freya muttered. "Have they realized yet that I was a spy?"

Sirius frowned. "No," Sirius replied, no longer rocking Annabelle, who was reaching for his hair, which had gotten a good deal longer since Freya had last seen him. He seemed to consider something, then continued, "James and I never told a soul you were doing that. Not even Dumbledore knows that you gave Voldemort Ministry secrets, but he does know that you were James's source of insider Death Eater knowledge. He's shielding you from any sort of Ministry investigation under the pretext that you were a spy for the Order of the Phoenix all along, and that your marriage to a Death Eater was just a way to get in to steal the information."

Freya snorted. "Albus Dumbledore, master of secrets, puller of strings," she sneered, shaking her head. "All right, I guess I'm officially an Order member then. How do they feel about that? The wife of a dead Death Eater joining their ranks after her husband's death?"

"They believe Dumbledore's version of things, that you only married him to get information," Sirius said. "The line of thought is that because your husband died, you can't get any more information from him, so you're coming home and showing your true colors. No one seems to be suspicious that there's anything more to it than that… But there is, isn't there?"

Freya chewed her lip thoughtfully, ignoring the sting when the skin on her lip split open. "There were things you weren't aware of, but nothing that would have put either Regulus or me in the Dark Lord's good graces," she said, choosing her words carefully.

"What does that mean?" Sirius asked as Annabelle cooed at him, tugging hard on his long black hair.

Freya brushed her auburn hair out of her eyes, sighing. "Sirius, he's doing things, things much darker than anything you could imagine, and Regulus… Regulus found out. None of the Death Eaters were supposed to ever know, but Regulus figured him out. We went into hiding because we stole something from him, and if we were dead, he would never come after us."

Brow furrowing, Sirius shifted Annabelle to hold her in one arm and reached out to Freya with his free hand, gently capturing her chin in his fingers. Freya glared at him, her cheeks flushing, as he asked, "What sort of thing did you steal that would make Voldemort come after you himself?"

Freya jerked her chin out of Sirius's grasp. "That's none of your business," Freya snapped.

Sirius winced slightly at Freya's tone, letting his hand drop. "Who all knows that you stole whatever this is and what it is?"

Freya considered whether or not to say anything for a moment. She muttered, "James knows, and I'll have to tell Dumbledore. Six months of trying to destroy that damn thing, but nothing's working, so I'll have no choice but to tell Dumbledore."

"Why can't you just trust me?" Sirius pleaded. "For years now, you've done nothing but keep secrets from me and lie to me. I understand the need for discretion, but you've got to understand that I love you and little Annabelle. I would die to protect you two. You can trust me with anything."

Sirius took Freya's hand in his as he spoke, and after a moment's hesitation, she pulled it away. "I thought I could trust that you would never do anything to hurt your brother," she said coldly. "But obviously, I was wrong about that since you were the one to kill him. Why should I trust you with anything now?"

Sirius looked away guiltily from Freya, gently disentangling his hair from Annabelle's tiny fist. "James should be here again soon," he mumbled, handing Annabelle back to Freya. "I'll just leave you two alone to feed her or whatever." Then he quickly ducked out of the room, leaving Freya alone as tears choked her.

Two days later, Freya apparated in front of the open front door of her and Regulus's hidden cottage in Ireland, her violet cloak whirling around her ankles as she landed. She hesitated, unsure she was willing to risk seeing Regulus's dead body as she didn't know if James and Sirius had moved him yet, but she had to get the locket to take to Dumbledore, so she forced her feet to move.

The living room was totally destroyed. Curse burns had left holes and stains on the pale green walls and hardwood floors, and the sofa had been knocked over. The glass coffee table was shattered. There was no sign of Regulus anywhere except for his blood all over the shards of glass on the floor. She delicately picked up a large piece that was almost completely covered in her husband's blood. Taking a deep breath to repress her tears and her anger, she moved gingerly through the wreckage of the living room to the fireplace. She tapped her wand three times on the second brick from the left on the mantel, and the brick jumped out of place, revealing the horcrux's usual hiding place. Freya gasped. The locket was gone. She ransacked the house, turning it upside down, but the locket had disappeared entirely. Eyes wide with terror, she disapparated to James's house again, rushing in without bothering to knock. James and Sirius sat on the couch, Sirius holding baby Annabelle, as Freya hurried into the room. Startled, both men jumped from their seats and pointed their wands at Freya until they recognized her. "James, it's gone," Freya said, panic seeping into her voice.

"What's gone?" James asked, dropping his wand onto the couch as he stepped toward his sister.

"The horcrux, Jamie, the horcrux; it's gone!" Freya screeched, the increase in volume making Annabelle start crying.

Sirius froze, unable to think about calming Annabelle as Freya's words processed. "Horcrux? You mean…"

"Yes, yes, the bloody Dark Lord made a horcrux, and Regulus stole it! Now Regulus is dead, and the bloody horcrux is gone!" Freya's voice went up a full octave as she shouted over her baby's cries.

Lily and Remus walked into the room from the kitchen, confused. "What's a hor-" Lily started, only to be interrupted by James.

"Lily, take Annabelle upstairs, will you? I need to talk to Freya," James said, panic making his voice shake as well.

Lily shook her head. "No, absolutely not. James, I'm tired of you keeping secrets from me because of her. I'm your wife, and I deserve your trust."

Remus sighed. "Here, I'll take her," he said, easily taking Annabelle from Sirius's paralyzed arms. "Prongs, you lot can fill me in later. I'll take care of Annie." With that, Remus swept out of the room with Annabelle, taking the steps two at a time up to the temporary nursery that James had set up for his niece.

Lily turned on James with a hard stare, raising an eyebrow. "Well? Horcrux. Explain."

James sighed. "Ok. Well, Regulus discovered that Voldemort had made a horcrux. It's the worst type of dark magic. He placed part of his soul into an object, making himself immortal, and he hid it. Thing is, Regulus discovered where he'd hidden it and stole it. That's why I had to hide him and Freya because when Voldemort finally realizes it's gone, he's coming after Freya with a vengeance."

"Ok, so where is it?" Lily asked.

Freya tapped her foot anxiously. "It's gone," Freya said, her whole body trembling. Sirius finally came to life again at the sound of Freya's voice, and he moved to stand beside her and pulled her to his side, an arm around her protectively. Freya continued, "I went back to the cottage, and I checked every hiding place I knew. I tore that place apart, and it is not there. Someone's gotten in and stolen it."

James, doing a better job than Freya of holding himself together, said, "Now, let's wait a minute. That house was under the Fidelius Charm, and I'm the Secret Keeper. No one, Muggles, Death Eaters, or otherwise, could have found that place unless I told them where it was. I know for a fact that there were only three people I told the location: Regulus, Sirius, and, of course, you, Freya. So if the horcrux is gone, that means that one of you three must've taken it."

Freya tore herself from Sirius's embrace, eyes wide. "Sirius?"

Sirius shook his head. "How could I have taken it?" Sirius snapped. "I didn't even know it was there."

"Well, I didn't take it," Freya hissed. "And you killed Regulus, so where else could it…" Freya trailed off as realization dawned on her. "Sirius, did you and James move Regulus's body out of the house?"

James shook his head. "I haven't been there since that first night you went into hiding."

Sirius hesitated, staring hard at the floor as though his brain was trying to work quickly. Freya smacked his shoulder hard. "Sirius!" Freya growled. "Did you move him or not?"

"He hasn't been back since the fight with Regulus," James said softly, pulling Freya away from his best friend. "He's always been with me or you; he can't have moved him."

"I did," Sirius said suddenly, gray eyes snapping up to Freya's hazel ones. He cleared his throat nervously, then said, "Umm, yeah, yeah, I moved him. That night. I didn't leave straight after the fight. I moved him."

"Moved him where?" Freya snarled. "He was probably wearing the damn thing again; what did you do with him?" she demanded as she fought against James's grip.

Sirius stammered, "I, umm, I…"

Lily said suspiciously, "Sirius, why would you move him anyway? I thought I heard you complain once about people doing that before the aurors get there to investigate."

"I did, I mean…" Sirius said.

"You always were a terrible liar, Padfoot," James said coolly.

"Where's my husband, Black?" Freya demanded.

"I buried him?" Sirius offered, but the tone of his voice betrayed him.

"Liar," Freya accused, her voice low and threatening. "Where is he? Is he still alive?"

Sirius's eyes begged Freya to stop, but she couldn't. If there was even a chance he was still alive, she had to cling to that hope with every fiber of her being. Finally, he sighed. "I can't remember…" he whispered.

"What the hell do you mean that you can't remember?" Freya screamed.

They could hear Annabelle start crying again upstairs, but Freya was too distraught to care. Sirius flinched away from the violence in her tone and said, "I can't bloody remember where he went," Sirius snapped. "All I remember is killing him, and then things got fuzzy, then I was at the hospital with you telling you I'd killed him. What happened in the middle, I don't know. I don't know what I did with his body, Freya, but Regulus is dead. You hear me? Dead. Gone. He's not coming back, Freya; you have to accept that."

Shaking, Freya stopped fighting against James's arms, letting him hold her to his chest in a tight, comforting hug. James said, "Freya, he's gone. We'll find the horcrux again, and we'll destroy it. It's going to be fine, ok?" Freya nodded against his chest, tears streaming down her overheated cheeks.

Tears threatening to spill from Sirius's eyes as well, he said sadly, "Freya, I…"

"Stop," Freya spit bitterly. "Leave me the hell alone, Black. I hate you."

As Freya pushed James away, James said quietly, "Come on, Freya, don't say that. You don't mean that…"

"Actually, I do," Freya interrupted. "I mean it, and he'd better never forget it." With that, she stormed away, heading upstairs to check on Annabelle and Remus.

Late that night, Freya woke up to the sound of Annabelle crying in the room next to hers. She groaned, then got out of bed slowly, her auburn hair falling out of the bun she'd put it in before she'd gone to bed and getting in her eyes. She pulled on a pair of warm socks and a cardigan before she let her feet hit the hardwood floor, then she trudged down the hall. As she reached the door to Annabelle's room, Freya rubbed at her eyes, then she heard someone saying, "Shhhh, shhh, it's ok, little one. I'm here; you're safe." Freya peeked into the room through the open door to see Sirius standing next to Annabelle's crib, bouncing and rocking the tiny girl in his arms. Sirius continued, "Sweet little Annie, you're so incredibly loved. Your mommy has been having a hard few days, but she loves you more than anything in the world. Uncle James and Aunt Lily love you too, and your daddy would love you desperately if he could be here. That's ok, though; I love you enough that you'll never have to feel like you're missing out on a daddy's love. I'll always miss your dad, but he'd want me to make sure you feel loved. I love you, little Annabelle."

Freya stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. "Maybe if you'd let her daddy live, you wouldn't have to worry that she might feel like she's missing something."

Sirius looked up, startled. "I wish I could have," Sirius said softly, unwilling to rise to Freya's bait. Annabelle's crying began to taper off as Sirius walked over to where Freya leaned against the closed nursery door. Sirius stopped when there was just inches between the two Gryffindors, Annabelle sniffling in his arms. He looked meaningfully into Freya's eyes, the moonlight lighting her face delicately. "I love you, Freya," he said tenderly.

Freya glared at him, then raised her hand and slapped him as hard as she could across the face. He allowed his head to snap to the side rather than try to resist her hand as she whispered angrily, "You killed him. I hate you."

Sirius bit his lip, clearly holding something back. After a moment, he leaned down and captured her lips with his. Freya's breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded with a mix of guilt and excitement. She moved her hands to his chest to push him away but found Annabelle instead, the baby girl grabbing hold of one of Freya's fingers. Freya's heart softened at her daughter's touch, and she suddenly kissed Sirius back, lifting her one free hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his black hair. It transported her back to a better time and place, to a summer of love and secrets and sex. Sirius was a bit taller and broader than Regulus, and his hair was considerably longer, but their lips moved in much the same way against Freya's when they kissed her, and it let her forget for a moment that Regulus was gone. When Sirius pulled back, Freya gasped for air and leaned her head back against the door, dropping her hand from his hair and refusing to look at his face as he stared hard at her. He whispered, "I don't blame you for hating me, and I understand the need to lash out at me. But please, don't tease me. Don't give me hope if this is never going to happen for us. Just don't."

Blinking away the sting of tears, Freya breathed, "It's true, isn't it? Regulus is dead?"

Sirius nodded. "I wouldn't lie to you about that, Freya."

Freya sucked in air, then she nodded as she expelled it forcefully. "Ok," she said quietly. After a few minutes of silence, she said, "You have to understand I'll never be able to forget him. He's always going to be a part of me and of Annabelle. Even if I could… If I could be with you… Sirius, part of me is always going to be back there with him…"

Sirius whispered, "I know, Freya. I know you'll always love him more than me. But if you could manage to love me with even a fraction of the love you gave him? I'd consider myself the luckiest man in the world. And you know I love Annabelle with all my heart; I could be her dad if you want."

Freya bit her lip thoughtfully as Annabelle's grip on her finger loosened, the little girl letting go as she finally fell asleep. Freya swallowed, taking her finger away and using it to trace Annabelle's chin, so much like her father's. She mumbled, "I can't right now, Sirius."

When she paused, Sirius pushed, "But?"

Freya looked up at him, eyes burning. "But," she continued. "Maybe, one day, if we just… try this… and the hatred and anger from all this could go away… maybe…"

Sirius's eyes lit up with hope. "Maybe?"

Freya wiped at a stray tear on her cheek. "Maybe, but Sirius…"

"I know, you're broken, damaged, scared. I hear all the same stuff from Remus on a regular basis whenever the subject of Marlene McKinnon comes up. I don't care," Sirius said quickly. He kissed Freya's forehead before turning away and placing Annabelle in her crib. Turning back to her, he took Freya's face in his hands and stared deeply into Freya's eyes, full of pain and fear. "I'll promise you this now," Sirius said solemnly. "I will never hurt you. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, no matter who you talk to, I will never hurt you or Annabelle. I will never lay hand to you in anger, and I'll never make you feel like less than the sweet, intelligent, wonderful, brave girl that you are. As long as I'm around, I'll make sure that you and Annabelle never want for anything."

Freya tugged at Sirius's wrists nervously, making a weak attempt to break his hold on her. "Sirius, I can't…"

Sirius shook his head. "Freya, please," he begged, and Freya closed her mouth, letting him continue. "Forget the way Regulus made you think you ought to be treated. I'll never treat you the way he did. Things are going to be so much better for us, and you'll never have to hide anything from me, ok?"

Freya sighed then nodded. "Ok," she said, barely audible. "But Sirius, I don't know if I can promise the same. I don't… I don't want to hurt you, but…"

"I know," Sirius said sadly. "You're still hurt and angry; I know. I know you very well might lash out at me, kind of like you have been the last few days. It's ok; I can take it."

"You shouldn't have to take it," Freya said, her voice tight as she choked back tears and swallowed feelings of worthlessness.

Feeling Freya tremble, Sirius leaned down and brought her lips to his again. He parted her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth, along with a million emotions that overwhelmed Freya and made her melt against his chest. Her heart pounded in her ears as she felt his muscles firm against her torso. She pushed herself off the door, pressing her body closer to his. Her skin felt like fire, and when he pulled away, he wiped tears from her cheeks that she hadn't realized were there. "It's ok," Sirius whispered. "I'm ok with it. I want you, all of you, the way you are. I don't care what you do; I'll always want you."

Unable to stop the flow of tears, Freya sniffed. Nodding, she whispered, "Ok." She paused as Sirius stroked her hair. "I still hate you," she said, unwilling to look into his eyes as she said it.

A wry grin spread on Sirius's face at Freya's words. "I know," Sirius muttered before kissing her again, pouring his heart into her through the simple action. He only kissed her for a few short moments, but when he pulled away, she was gulping for air as emotions crushed her chest. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing in her chest under the weight of her heart. Freya couldn't bring herself to say anything; she turned, opened the door, and ran back to her room, throwing her bedroom door closed behind her. She leaned against the door, sobbing, and sank to the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest, her whole body shaking as she curled in on herself, trying to shut off the pain that had suddenly rushed through her veins like venom. Not moving from the spot where she'd collapsed, she cried until sleep finally claimed her again.

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