Thanks to all who have reviewed. I know I'm leaping off the canon cliff
with this, but I don't care!
Part III
Family Reunion
The stern spirit said, "You have arrived. Do you know what awaits you?"
"Hell?" Sirius replied.
Judging from the expression on the spirit's face, "Hell" was an incorrect and highly inappropriate answer. It also did nothing to sweeten his family's welcome to the afterlife.
"You see what he thinks of us, the ungrateful wretch. Hell is where we should send him so he can wallow in the sewers for all eternity!"
"Hear, hear!" A elderly man in a powdered wig chimed in, glaring at Sirius.
"Filth! Vermin!"
"Mudblood bootlicker!"
"Soiled, dirty-"
"SILENCE!!"
From the far end of the room beyond the unearthly gathering of deceased Blacks stood the most exquisitely beautiful woman Sirius had ever seen. Or seen through, as she too, was one of these disembodied entities that kept appearing without warning. He was starting to get used to it.
The perfection of her visage was clouded by her obvious annoyance with the unruly horde gathered before her. "You will take your seats and abide by the rules set forth under this ancient pact."
Grumbling to themselves, the family spirits drifted towards crowded rows of seats. One hung back, however and as Sirius rose to his feet he finally found someone in the afterlife he didn't mind seeing.
"Uncle Alphard!"
"Hello, lad. I'd give you a hug, but you're not able to feel it. I expect you find this all a little odd, eh?"
"Yeah, well none of it gets any more normal. What is-"
"You ask too many questions." The stern blue spirit fussed. "Come forward so we may begin."
"Begin what?" Sirius muttered out of the corner of his mouth to his uncle, hoping to get answers and not be scolded for his impertinence again.
Uncle Alphard walked with them towards the front of the room. With a cautious glance at the spirit, he said, "It'll all be explained in a few moments, I imagine. Just remember, some of us in the family are on your side, Sirius."
He sat down in the front row. The spirit indicated that Sirius should be seated in a chair that faced the rows of his ancestors. Sirius felt exposed and vulnerable under the weight of so many hostile eyes.
His thoughts were interrupted by the woman spirit. "Sirius Black, your death has ended your family line. This gathering of your ancestors will debate whether or not to ask me to invoke the powers of the ancient pact of Cognatus Putus on your behalf. The purpose of the pact is to grant life back to the last son of a pureblood family, in order that he may continue his work on earth. Do you understand?"
Sirius understood the words perfectly well. He wasn't sure he believed them. "You're telling me that I can be sent back? Alive? I'd go back to my life where I left it?"
"I thought he was supposed to be a smart boy, Lucretia. He seems a bit dim," muttered a vicious, apple-cheeked old lady. A chorus of invective directed at Sirius' perceived idiocy rose like a rumbling storm.
"Quiet!" The spirit snapped. Her frown was quite impressively intimidating. "You will all have your chance to speak at the appropriate time. The newly deceased has not yet had the opportunity to receive the explanations to which he is entitled."
Sirius decided that he rather liked this being. She reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall, although even Minerva could learn a few things about how to quell a room full of troublemakers from this one. She turned her imposing gaze fully on him.
"Have you ever heard of Cognatus Putus?"
"No, I haven't.uh.ma'am. Excuse me, but I have no idea how I should address you."
"Dolt," someone muttered from the family.
"I need no form of address," she answered cryptically.
Sirius didn't find this at all satisfactory. "But, who or what are you?"
"Hmph," muttered the stern spirit from behind Sirius addressing the woman spirit. "I told you he asks many impertinent questions."
The woman shot a quelling glance at the grumpy spirit. "He has no knowledge of any of this. Only a fool would not raise questions."
Her heavy, commanding gaze came back to Sirius. "I am the Judge. I will direct this convocation and ultimately decide whether or not to accept the petition of your ancestors."
Well, that at least was understandable, even if he still wasn't sure just what was going on here. As if reading his thoughts, the spirit elaborated.
"Cognatus Putus is a pact that came into being many, many generations ago. The pureblooded, the gifted magical beings, had a duty to better the lives of all in their world. They were blessed with powerful magic and great understanding of how to use it for the benefit of their society. It happened, in those ancient days, that some of the pure lines came to an end, due to many things. War, disease, forces natural and unnatural. And, as their work was not yet done, and the fall of these people and the ending of their lines boded no good for the world, the eternal powers granted that, should the last of a pureblood family be deemed worthy, he would be made whole and alive again, and sent back to the other side of the veil to continue to use his gifts to the best of his ability to benefit his society."
She looked questioningly at Sirius. He nodded to indicate his understanding.
"What your ancestors will now decide is whether or not they wish to ask me to give your life back to you. They will petition to either invoke the pact or to keep you here in the afterlife. As Judge, it falls to me to rule on which course to follow."
Sirius felt his mood sink. He couldn't imagine that this roomful of vengeful, disapproving relations would want to do anything that might benefit him. But, even if they did, surely the Judge would disqualify him based on his rejection of the importance of blood purity. Well, his traitorous attitude would be revealed in due course. He might as well play along, as he had nothing more to lose.
The Judge continued. "Your ancestors will question you, if they wish. Or they will tell me what they know of you. And I may also question you. Then they will make their recommendation. I will weigh your merits and their request and decide. Should the pact be invoked, you will be required to take a vow as surety that you will use your gifts for the benefit of others. Be aware that if you are questioned, I will be able to judge your truthfulness. Lie at your peril!"
Sirius nodded again. "Thank you for your explanation," he said to the Judge.
"Listen to him," snarled Sirius' father, Arcturus Black. "So proper and polite. Not brave enough to spout your venom here, are you? Do you think we don't remember your haughty, superior attitude? How you acted as if we were all beneath you? How you sought to poison your brother against us? You thought you were better than your entire family! We gave you everything and you threw it back into our faces, you spineless, mewling whelp!"
"Oh, come now, Arc! I think you've got that all wrong," interjected Alphard Black. "I'd say anyone who could stand straight and tall in the middle of a roomful of rabid, screaming Blacks and hold up his end of the argument against the lot of them has quite a bit of spine. Balls, too!" He nodded approvingly at his nephew.
"Is it necessary to speak like a common tramp?" Snapped another battle-ax of an old lady from a back row. Sirius was sure it was Aunt Elladora.
That seemed to be the signal for everyone to start talking at once. Some of them shouted insults at Sirius. Some threatened Alphard. Some paired off and shouted at each other. Arms gesticulating, mouths wide open, eyes flaming. A disquieting thought crept out of the back of Sirius' mind. What if this had nothing to do with some ancient agreement? What if he had been condemned to spend his afterlife locked in a room with generations of his ancestors?
CRASH! The Judge banged a gavel like a thunderbolt down on her dais. "Be seated! All of you! Mere invective will not carry your arguments with me! You will remain silent until called upon to speak!" Like chastened, but surly schoolchildren, the family Black settled back down.
"We will hear first from Arcturus and Lucretia Black. As you are the parents of this man, it is your right to begin."
"My son," Arcturus sneered, "was the greatest disappointment of my life. I saw how my own brother acted when he was growing up. I saw how it pained my parents to deal with that sort of rot living in our midst and I swore it would never happen with my own children. But, Alphard's poison reappeared, spewing forth from the mouth of my first-born. What a nightmare, hearing the same filthy, twisted ideas and seeing the same self-righteous anger, as if he was entitled to question generations of heritage and of blood. He should have been born in the gutter, as it's where he chose to live. Why, when my nieces and nephews were such wonderful children, why was I cursed with this rotten bit of flesh? This excrement? I could never decide what was worse, knowing he associated with mudbloods and peasants at school, or actually seeing him polluting my house with his rancid thoughts and words."
He turned for the first time to glare at Sirius head-on. "You brought nothing but dishonor and shame to our family! The happiest day of my life was when you left, when we were finally rid of you!"
Sirius felt his stomach curling in knots. It was all he could do to remain expressionless, trading stare for stare with his father.
Arcturus chuckled darkly. "But, life does have its little ironies, doesn't it, you foul worm? I was overjoyed to learn that your friends, the half- breed abominations and mudblood filth with which you surrounded yourself, believed you to be a traitor and sent you to Azkaban. At the end of my life, it comforted me to know that you were paying a price for betrayal. Even though they imprisoned you for the wrong crime, you deserved whatever tortures you suffered. My one regret was that I was not the one to inflict them on you!"
Lucretia Black rose and slowly approached her son. The disgust twisting her features was so familiar. Sirius couldn't remember how old he had been the last time he had received praise or even a simple smile from either of his parents. It must have been during his first or second year at Hogwarts. After that, he considered himself lucky if all he got were frowns of disapproval. He was surprised at how much it still hurt.
"I had such high hopes for this son. I was so proud when I bore him. Little did I know he was vermin. A blood traitor. Had I realized it, I would have snapped his neck like a twig and tossed him out with the trash. We raised both our sons the same. One grew strong and respectful, following in our footsteps. He had pride in our family. He recognized the importance of blood purity. He knew that the impure must be kept in their place or their grasping, puny hands would destroy us and all we've built. He was my pride, my joy, and my brilliant star. My sweet Regulus deserved to live, but, no! He was cut down so young, while you, you wretched, ungrateful cur, you lived! I hated you for it! I'm sure you laughed with your stinking mudblood friends when you heard about your brother! Didn't you? Didn't you?!" Her voice rose in a shriek.
Attempting to keep his voice level, Sirius replied. "No. I felt sorry for where his choices led him."
"He chose right!"
"He chose to follow Voldemort, and realized too late what that would entail!"
"It was a mistake. They didn't mean to kill him."
Her blindness infuriated him. "Yes, they did! And you're partially to blame, for filling his head with your precious pureblood nonsense. All it ever meant to you was privilege. Achievement and ability meant nothing! Knowledge and skill meant nothing! All that mattered was who married whom. You felt you were entitled to wealth and position because you could trace the labyrinth of your family tree back to the Middle Ages. You didn't tell Regulus that Voldemort used blood purity as a starting point. You didn't tell him that Voldemort expected him to slaughter people on the basis of their ancestry. And he couldn't do it. He didn't carry the blind hate that would let him break into a house where a woman sat with her children and kill them, simply because they were not pure!" Sirius practically spat at her.
Livid, Lucretia's eyes bugged, her fingers twitched as if she longed to claw her talons across her son's face. "And what did you care? He was your little brother and he needed help and you-"
Sirius interrupted. "He thought he could make a run for it and get out of the country. He didn't want them to be able to trace the use of his wand, so he needed a new one. He needed money. He needed an illegal portkey set up, and he needed it all in a matter of hours. Yes, he needed help. And he came to me to get it! Well, I got all of it for him. And I waited for him all afternoon and through the night at our secret meeting place. But, he never showed up because he was already dead!"
Lucretia's rage had disappeared, replaced by a desperate whimpering. "No, that's not true. He wouldn't have gone to you for help, he would have come to us. He would have-"
"It *is* true, Mum." A clear voice rang out from the back of the room, and a tall, black-haired young man stood up in the corner. Sirius gasped to see the face of his younger brother, still with the shades of innocence in his features, unmarked by the ravages of time or age or prison. Regulus Black walked out of the cluster of the ancient dead. He came forward to look closely at his elder brother, the one person his parents had insisted he not emulate. He wished he hadn't listened to them quite so slavishly. Sirius felt his throat seize up. Regulus had been so young.
Regulus turned to the Judge. "My brother had sworn to fight against the terror of the Death Eaters. But, he refused to turn his back on me when I needed help." Regulus' ghostly eyes searched his brother's face. "I know you paid dearly for crimes you never committed. And helping me planted seeds of suspicion about you among your friends. You risked your life and your freedom for me, Sirius. I never got the chance to thank you. So, I thank you now."
"I'm sorry, Regulus. I'm sorry we ran out of time."
Regulus suddenly smiled with all the radiant beauty inherent in his family. "We'll have time again. But, not right away. You're a good man, and you still have much to give. You should be sent back to the other side of the veil."
It was perhaps the nicest thing any of his family had ever said to Sirius. He sprang to his feet, arms stretched out to embrace his younger brother. But, Regulus stepped back, shaking his head. "Not now, Sirius. Later. When your life is truly over."
Lucretia and Arcturus abruptly sat down, stunned by their younger son's sudden alliance with his brother. Sirius, too, slowly returned to his seat, his eyes never leaving the vibrant form of his brother as Regulus returned to the back of the room.
Alphard Black rose, smiled winningly at the Judge and beamed at his favorite nephew. Of all the beings in the room, he seemed most as ease.
"I only wish to make one small but very important point. My nephew Sirius has already touched on it, and I think it should be uppermost in all our minds. Achievement, knowledge, and skill do mean something. So do compassion, empathy and the struggle to do what is right. The reason that Cognatus Putus exists is to grant life back to one who will use his power and ability for the good of all. It is not simply a way to ensure the bloodline continues. Those of pure blood are duty-bound to give of themselves, and not to simply sit back on their over-privileged arses expecting that they should get rewards and distinctions and status simply because they've made the right marriages."
A threatening growl rolled through the room at Alphard's words. He smiled even more brightly.
"Oh, I know you hate to hear it. But it's true! The great majority of you are a bunch of blood-sucking maggots that have lost the ideals of why the pureblood families even existed. Sirius embodies many of those qualities. His tenacious adherence to them even while his closest relations mocked and abused him only proves his worthiness."
Alphard sat down to a chorus of shouts and boos and hisses.
And so it continued. One by one the ancestral spirits rose. Some merely voiced their opinion. Some questioned Sirius, and some berated him. Others spoke in his favor. He noted that most of those relatives were from centuries past and he had no clue exactly who they were.
The last to rise was his great-great-grandfather Phineas Nigellus. Phineas straightened his jacket and smoothed his gloves. Then he peered closely at Sirius through his sharp, fox-like eyes. "Quite frankly, the mere fact that you're a Gryffindor is almost enough for me to vote to send you to Hell, if that was an option. As it's not, I regretfully must agree with the more noxious members of the family and petition that you be granted your life. The line must not end! I would wish the last son had more admirable qualities than you, but, as you're our only hope, we must accept you, as peculiar and difficult as you are."
Phineas returned haughtily to his seat. Sirius couldn't decide whether his response should be "Thank you" or "Fuck you" so he remained quiet.
The Judge spoke. "It is time for you to make your wishes known. Those who wish to invoke Cognatus Putus to grant life to Sirius Black stand and be counted."
Sirius forced himself to remain impassive, as his eyes swept quickly over the room. Less than half of those gathered were on their feet.
"Those do not wish to invoke the pact, stand and be counted."
Their hatred of him extended beyond the grave. They had been given one final forum in which to reject him and they had seized it. They loathed him more than they loved their own blood. Sirius struggled in vain not to think of Remus and Harry, but his sorrow and hurt were all too obvious, much to his vengeful relatives' delight. They laughed, happy to find a target for their mockery in death as they had in life.
"May I speak, Judge?"
Sirius glanced towards the voice and saw the Guardian who had met him when he came through the veil.
The Judge nodded. Silence fell over the gathered spirits.
"This man voiced deep regrets when he first arrived. He wished with all his heart to return to the living, not to regain what he had lost, but to pay the debts he still owes and make right the wrongs he believes he has done to others."
The Judge nodded again and then sat motionless for several long moments. Finally she rose slowly to tower regally above them. She turned to Sirius. "I have weighed the opinions of your ancestors. I have heard your words, from your own mouth and from what the Guardian tells us. I have examined the length of your years on earth and balanced your failings and your sins against your accomplishments and your grace. I find that the latter far outweigh the former. You have a greater understanding of the duties and obligations of the pure of blood than do most of your family. And, although you do not recognize this purity as the most vital ingredient of a person, you have taken to heart the essence of what it meant in times long past. And that is sufficient reason for me to ignore the wishes of your ancestors and to invoke the pact of Cognatus Putus."
Everything in his heart and mind and soul melded together in one glorious explosion of relief. "Thank you," he whispered in the most heartfelt gratitude he'd ever experienced.
"He must take a vow!" The harsh tones of Lucretia Black rang out.
"What vow do you wish him to take?" The Judge seemed amenable to whatever sick idea his mother had come up with.
"He must promise to marry a pureblood daughter from a noble house and to raise a family to carry on the family name."
Sirius tried to hide his dismay. The Judge had overruled them but still they sought to shackle him to the destiny they always wanted for him. Sirius remembered the Judge's words to the hostile spirit. "Only a fool would not raise questions." He shifted in his chair to face her.
"Judge, may I propose my own vow?"
Was that a twitch at the corner of her mouth? "You may."
"I promise to bind myself, body, heart and soul, for my lifetime and after my death, to a person of pure blood."
Yes, that was a definite twitch. Was he crazy or was the Judge trying to hide a smile?
"Your vow is accepted."
She knew, Sirius realized. Well, of course she knew. If she could examine the entire record of his days, she must know about Remus.
"There is one final condition required by the pact," the Judge said. "The return of the dead to life is not undertaken lightly by the powers. It is a gift not granted to any mortals other than pureblood wizards. A price must be paid for this gift in recognition that the time given back to you is precious beyond measure. Your normal life span will be cut in half. Instead of a life of 150 or so years, you will die at around half that age. This requirement is immutable. Should you refuse to accept this, you will be allowed to continue on your journey through the afterlife."
Sirius needed no time to consider this caveat. "I accept."
"Very well. The pact has been invoked, a vow has been made and the final condition accepted. I grant you your life, Sirius Black."
Sirius couldn't take his eyes off the Judge. His tried to force his scattershot thoughts into a semblance of order. He was happy, grateful, and felt profoundly unworthy to have been granted such a gift. Glancing towards his family, his brain momentarily shut down. The room was empty. His head snapped back towards the Judge. She was still there.
"Where did they-? Thank you. My brother - I'd like to talk to my brother. Where did they go?"
An exaggerated sigh from behind him clued him in to the continued presence of that curmudgeonly spirit.
"Their presence is no longer required."
Sirius tried to take comfort from the thought that some day he would again see Regulus, and they would finally be able to lay to rest all the misunderstandings of their blighted youth.
"What happens now? How do I go back?"
The Judge suddenly smiled and it was as if a warm spring sun had cast its glow over the winter-weary earth. "You will be sent back at the appropriate time. Forces unseen to mortals govern this world, the world beyond life. You can only return at certain times, when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. At the feast of Samhain, we will send you back. You must wait here until then."
Sirius was sure that, sooner or later, his questions would make the spirit hovering behind him hit him over the head. He asked anyway. "What day is it now, in the living world?"
The Judge only said, "You will be sent back soon."
She turned away and Sirius knew she would vanish, like every other entity in this place. He was overwhelmed by a sense of urgency and disquiet. "Thank you," he said, rising to his feet.
She had already started to fade, but suddenly her outline became clearer. "Something distresses you."
He once more tried to gather his thoughts, which flitted about like autumn leaves blown by the wind. "It's so unfair that a handful of people.souls.can be granted their lives back. Why, when so many others are more deserving of life, why is it fair that I benefit from this?"
"Is life always fair? Or death? You have only to look at your own experiences to answer those questions. You have been told why Cognatus Putus came into being eons ago. That is all that matters. It has nothing to do with fairness."
"Then, why did you let me propose my own vow? Why didn't you insist that I accept my mother's wording? Surely you realize that the blood line will end with my death."
"The pact's sole purpose is to grant life back to the last son. It makes no demands on whether or not he should procreate. When Cognatus Putus was established, the purebloods assumed that a family's last son would seek to continue his family line. They saw no need to make that a requirement."
"As far as the vow is concerned," she shrugged, "nothing prohibits the last son from proposing his own vow. It's always amazed me that so few think to do so." She glanced at the impatient spirit fidgeting behind Sirius. "Only a fool would hesitate to ask questions. And you are not a fool, Sirius Black."
He knew he would not see her again. "I will use the time given to me as best I can."
She was gone.
Sirius turned to the pale blue spirit, ready to be scolded again. Frowning impressively, the spirit merely said, "Come."
And in moments, or hours, or days, Sirius found himself in a small, rectangular, colorless room. It was dimly lit from an unseen source, with only a single chair in the middle of the floor. He was utterly alone. He paced out the dimensions of the room. His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud in an otherwise silent world. As he reached each wall, he pressed a hand against it, testing its solidity, seeking a hidden doorway. The walls were unyielding with no exit that he could detect. It unnerved him that the dimensions of the room were the same as his cell in Azkaban.
He paced rapidly back and forth, seeking to grasp at a thought, any thought, to drive away the panic that flooded through him. He hadn't been caged; he was simply in a waiting room. Don't think about cells. Don't think about eternity in a cell. Think about something else.
He started talking to himself. "Harry. List everything I know about Harry. He's almost sixteen. Or, wait. Maybe by now he's already turned sixteen. If I only knew what day it was. Harry's birthday is July 31. He is the only child of James and Lily Evans Potter. He has black hair like James, and green eyes like Lily. He lives at 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging in Surrey." And when he was done with Harry, Sirius said, "Remus," and repeated the exercise. He went through name after name after name. And after pacing for moments or hours or days, Sirius sat on the chair, trying to ignore his total isolation. He would wait patiently, he told himself. It was a small room. It was not a cell. It was not a cell. He waited.
It was not a cell.
TBC
Part III
Family Reunion
The stern spirit said, "You have arrived. Do you know what awaits you?"
"Hell?" Sirius replied.
Judging from the expression on the spirit's face, "Hell" was an incorrect and highly inappropriate answer. It also did nothing to sweeten his family's welcome to the afterlife.
"You see what he thinks of us, the ungrateful wretch. Hell is where we should send him so he can wallow in the sewers for all eternity!"
"Hear, hear!" A elderly man in a powdered wig chimed in, glaring at Sirius.
"Filth! Vermin!"
"Mudblood bootlicker!"
"Soiled, dirty-"
"SILENCE!!"
From the far end of the room beyond the unearthly gathering of deceased Blacks stood the most exquisitely beautiful woman Sirius had ever seen. Or seen through, as she too, was one of these disembodied entities that kept appearing without warning. He was starting to get used to it.
The perfection of her visage was clouded by her obvious annoyance with the unruly horde gathered before her. "You will take your seats and abide by the rules set forth under this ancient pact."
Grumbling to themselves, the family spirits drifted towards crowded rows of seats. One hung back, however and as Sirius rose to his feet he finally found someone in the afterlife he didn't mind seeing.
"Uncle Alphard!"
"Hello, lad. I'd give you a hug, but you're not able to feel it. I expect you find this all a little odd, eh?"
"Yeah, well none of it gets any more normal. What is-"
"You ask too many questions." The stern blue spirit fussed. "Come forward so we may begin."
"Begin what?" Sirius muttered out of the corner of his mouth to his uncle, hoping to get answers and not be scolded for his impertinence again.
Uncle Alphard walked with them towards the front of the room. With a cautious glance at the spirit, he said, "It'll all be explained in a few moments, I imagine. Just remember, some of us in the family are on your side, Sirius."
He sat down in the front row. The spirit indicated that Sirius should be seated in a chair that faced the rows of his ancestors. Sirius felt exposed and vulnerable under the weight of so many hostile eyes.
His thoughts were interrupted by the woman spirit. "Sirius Black, your death has ended your family line. This gathering of your ancestors will debate whether or not to ask me to invoke the powers of the ancient pact of Cognatus Putus on your behalf. The purpose of the pact is to grant life back to the last son of a pureblood family, in order that he may continue his work on earth. Do you understand?"
Sirius understood the words perfectly well. He wasn't sure he believed them. "You're telling me that I can be sent back? Alive? I'd go back to my life where I left it?"
"I thought he was supposed to be a smart boy, Lucretia. He seems a bit dim," muttered a vicious, apple-cheeked old lady. A chorus of invective directed at Sirius' perceived idiocy rose like a rumbling storm.
"Quiet!" The spirit snapped. Her frown was quite impressively intimidating. "You will all have your chance to speak at the appropriate time. The newly deceased has not yet had the opportunity to receive the explanations to which he is entitled."
Sirius decided that he rather liked this being. She reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall, although even Minerva could learn a few things about how to quell a room full of troublemakers from this one. She turned her imposing gaze fully on him.
"Have you ever heard of Cognatus Putus?"
"No, I haven't.uh.ma'am. Excuse me, but I have no idea how I should address you."
"Dolt," someone muttered from the family.
"I need no form of address," she answered cryptically.
Sirius didn't find this at all satisfactory. "But, who or what are you?"
"Hmph," muttered the stern spirit from behind Sirius addressing the woman spirit. "I told you he asks many impertinent questions."
The woman shot a quelling glance at the grumpy spirit. "He has no knowledge of any of this. Only a fool would not raise questions."
Her heavy, commanding gaze came back to Sirius. "I am the Judge. I will direct this convocation and ultimately decide whether or not to accept the petition of your ancestors."
Well, that at least was understandable, even if he still wasn't sure just what was going on here. As if reading his thoughts, the spirit elaborated.
"Cognatus Putus is a pact that came into being many, many generations ago. The pureblooded, the gifted magical beings, had a duty to better the lives of all in their world. They were blessed with powerful magic and great understanding of how to use it for the benefit of their society. It happened, in those ancient days, that some of the pure lines came to an end, due to many things. War, disease, forces natural and unnatural. And, as their work was not yet done, and the fall of these people and the ending of their lines boded no good for the world, the eternal powers granted that, should the last of a pureblood family be deemed worthy, he would be made whole and alive again, and sent back to the other side of the veil to continue to use his gifts to the best of his ability to benefit his society."
She looked questioningly at Sirius. He nodded to indicate his understanding.
"What your ancestors will now decide is whether or not they wish to ask me to give your life back to you. They will petition to either invoke the pact or to keep you here in the afterlife. As Judge, it falls to me to rule on which course to follow."
Sirius felt his mood sink. He couldn't imagine that this roomful of vengeful, disapproving relations would want to do anything that might benefit him. But, even if they did, surely the Judge would disqualify him based on his rejection of the importance of blood purity. Well, his traitorous attitude would be revealed in due course. He might as well play along, as he had nothing more to lose.
The Judge continued. "Your ancestors will question you, if they wish. Or they will tell me what they know of you. And I may also question you. Then they will make their recommendation. I will weigh your merits and their request and decide. Should the pact be invoked, you will be required to take a vow as surety that you will use your gifts for the benefit of others. Be aware that if you are questioned, I will be able to judge your truthfulness. Lie at your peril!"
Sirius nodded again. "Thank you for your explanation," he said to the Judge.
"Listen to him," snarled Sirius' father, Arcturus Black. "So proper and polite. Not brave enough to spout your venom here, are you? Do you think we don't remember your haughty, superior attitude? How you acted as if we were all beneath you? How you sought to poison your brother against us? You thought you were better than your entire family! We gave you everything and you threw it back into our faces, you spineless, mewling whelp!"
"Oh, come now, Arc! I think you've got that all wrong," interjected Alphard Black. "I'd say anyone who could stand straight and tall in the middle of a roomful of rabid, screaming Blacks and hold up his end of the argument against the lot of them has quite a bit of spine. Balls, too!" He nodded approvingly at his nephew.
"Is it necessary to speak like a common tramp?" Snapped another battle-ax of an old lady from a back row. Sirius was sure it was Aunt Elladora.
That seemed to be the signal for everyone to start talking at once. Some of them shouted insults at Sirius. Some threatened Alphard. Some paired off and shouted at each other. Arms gesticulating, mouths wide open, eyes flaming. A disquieting thought crept out of the back of Sirius' mind. What if this had nothing to do with some ancient agreement? What if he had been condemned to spend his afterlife locked in a room with generations of his ancestors?
CRASH! The Judge banged a gavel like a thunderbolt down on her dais. "Be seated! All of you! Mere invective will not carry your arguments with me! You will remain silent until called upon to speak!" Like chastened, but surly schoolchildren, the family Black settled back down.
"We will hear first from Arcturus and Lucretia Black. As you are the parents of this man, it is your right to begin."
"My son," Arcturus sneered, "was the greatest disappointment of my life. I saw how my own brother acted when he was growing up. I saw how it pained my parents to deal with that sort of rot living in our midst and I swore it would never happen with my own children. But, Alphard's poison reappeared, spewing forth from the mouth of my first-born. What a nightmare, hearing the same filthy, twisted ideas and seeing the same self-righteous anger, as if he was entitled to question generations of heritage and of blood. He should have been born in the gutter, as it's where he chose to live. Why, when my nieces and nephews were such wonderful children, why was I cursed with this rotten bit of flesh? This excrement? I could never decide what was worse, knowing he associated with mudbloods and peasants at school, or actually seeing him polluting my house with his rancid thoughts and words."
He turned for the first time to glare at Sirius head-on. "You brought nothing but dishonor and shame to our family! The happiest day of my life was when you left, when we were finally rid of you!"
Sirius felt his stomach curling in knots. It was all he could do to remain expressionless, trading stare for stare with his father.
Arcturus chuckled darkly. "But, life does have its little ironies, doesn't it, you foul worm? I was overjoyed to learn that your friends, the half- breed abominations and mudblood filth with which you surrounded yourself, believed you to be a traitor and sent you to Azkaban. At the end of my life, it comforted me to know that you were paying a price for betrayal. Even though they imprisoned you for the wrong crime, you deserved whatever tortures you suffered. My one regret was that I was not the one to inflict them on you!"
Lucretia Black rose and slowly approached her son. The disgust twisting her features was so familiar. Sirius couldn't remember how old he had been the last time he had received praise or even a simple smile from either of his parents. It must have been during his first or second year at Hogwarts. After that, he considered himself lucky if all he got were frowns of disapproval. He was surprised at how much it still hurt.
"I had such high hopes for this son. I was so proud when I bore him. Little did I know he was vermin. A blood traitor. Had I realized it, I would have snapped his neck like a twig and tossed him out with the trash. We raised both our sons the same. One grew strong and respectful, following in our footsteps. He had pride in our family. He recognized the importance of blood purity. He knew that the impure must be kept in their place or their grasping, puny hands would destroy us and all we've built. He was my pride, my joy, and my brilliant star. My sweet Regulus deserved to live, but, no! He was cut down so young, while you, you wretched, ungrateful cur, you lived! I hated you for it! I'm sure you laughed with your stinking mudblood friends when you heard about your brother! Didn't you? Didn't you?!" Her voice rose in a shriek.
Attempting to keep his voice level, Sirius replied. "No. I felt sorry for where his choices led him."
"He chose right!"
"He chose to follow Voldemort, and realized too late what that would entail!"
"It was a mistake. They didn't mean to kill him."
Her blindness infuriated him. "Yes, they did! And you're partially to blame, for filling his head with your precious pureblood nonsense. All it ever meant to you was privilege. Achievement and ability meant nothing! Knowledge and skill meant nothing! All that mattered was who married whom. You felt you were entitled to wealth and position because you could trace the labyrinth of your family tree back to the Middle Ages. You didn't tell Regulus that Voldemort used blood purity as a starting point. You didn't tell him that Voldemort expected him to slaughter people on the basis of their ancestry. And he couldn't do it. He didn't carry the blind hate that would let him break into a house where a woman sat with her children and kill them, simply because they were not pure!" Sirius practically spat at her.
Livid, Lucretia's eyes bugged, her fingers twitched as if she longed to claw her talons across her son's face. "And what did you care? He was your little brother and he needed help and you-"
Sirius interrupted. "He thought he could make a run for it and get out of the country. He didn't want them to be able to trace the use of his wand, so he needed a new one. He needed money. He needed an illegal portkey set up, and he needed it all in a matter of hours. Yes, he needed help. And he came to me to get it! Well, I got all of it for him. And I waited for him all afternoon and through the night at our secret meeting place. But, he never showed up because he was already dead!"
Lucretia's rage had disappeared, replaced by a desperate whimpering. "No, that's not true. He wouldn't have gone to you for help, he would have come to us. He would have-"
"It *is* true, Mum." A clear voice rang out from the back of the room, and a tall, black-haired young man stood up in the corner. Sirius gasped to see the face of his younger brother, still with the shades of innocence in his features, unmarked by the ravages of time or age or prison. Regulus Black walked out of the cluster of the ancient dead. He came forward to look closely at his elder brother, the one person his parents had insisted he not emulate. He wished he hadn't listened to them quite so slavishly. Sirius felt his throat seize up. Regulus had been so young.
Regulus turned to the Judge. "My brother had sworn to fight against the terror of the Death Eaters. But, he refused to turn his back on me when I needed help." Regulus' ghostly eyes searched his brother's face. "I know you paid dearly for crimes you never committed. And helping me planted seeds of suspicion about you among your friends. You risked your life and your freedom for me, Sirius. I never got the chance to thank you. So, I thank you now."
"I'm sorry, Regulus. I'm sorry we ran out of time."
Regulus suddenly smiled with all the radiant beauty inherent in his family. "We'll have time again. But, not right away. You're a good man, and you still have much to give. You should be sent back to the other side of the veil."
It was perhaps the nicest thing any of his family had ever said to Sirius. He sprang to his feet, arms stretched out to embrace his younger brother. But, Regulus stepped back, shaking his head. "Not now, Sirius. Later. When your life is truly over."
Lucretia and Arcturus abruptly sat down, stunned by their younger son's sudden alliance with his brother. Sirius, too, slowly returned to his seat, his eyes never leaving the vibrant form of his brother as Regulus returned to the back of the room.
Alphard Black rose, smiled winningly at the Judge and beamed at his favorite nephew. Of all the beings in the room, he seemed most as ease.
"I only wish to make one small but very important point. My nephew Sirius has already touched on it, and I think it should be uppermost in all our minds. Achievement, knowledge, and skill do mean something. So do compassion, empathy and the struggle to do what is right. The reason that Cognatus Putus exists is to grant life back to one who will use his power and ability for the good of all. It is not simply a way to ensure the bloodline continues. Those of pure blood are duty-bound to give of themselves, and not to simply sit back on their over-privileged arses expecting that they should get rewards and distinctions and status simply because they've made the right marriages."
A threatening growl rolled through the room at Alphard's words. He smiled even more brightly.
"Oh, I know you hate to hear it. But it's true! The great majority of you are a bunch of blood-sucking maggots that have lost the ideals of why the pureblood families even existed. Sirius embodies many of those qualities. His tenacious adherence to them even while his closest relations mocked and abused him only proves his worthiness."
Alphard sat down to a chorus of shouts and boos and hisses.
And so it continued. One by one the ancestral spirits rose. Some merely voiced their opinion. Some questioned Sirius, and some berated him. Others spoke in his favor. He noted that most of those relatives were from centuries past and he had no clue exactly who they were.
The last to rise was his great-great-grandfather Phineas Nigellus. Phineas straightened his jacket and smoothed his gloves. Then he peered closely at Sirius through his sharp, fox-like eyes. "Quite frankly, the mere fact that you're a Gryffindor is almost enough for me to vote to send you to Hell, if that was an option. As it's not, I regretfully must agree with the more noxious members of the family and petition that you be granted your life. The line must not end! I would wish the last son had more admirable qualities than you, but, as you're our only hope, we must accept you, as peculiar and difficult as you are."
Phineas returned haughtily to his seat. Sirius couldn't decide whether his response should be "Thank you" or "Fuck you" so he remained quiet.
The Judge spoke. "It is time for you to make your wishes known. Those who wish to invoke Cognatus Putus to grant life to Sirius Black stand and be counted."
Sirius forced himself to remain impassive, as his eyes swept quickly over the room. Less than half of those gathered were on their feet.
"Those do not wish to invoke the pact, stand and be counted."
Their hatred of him extended beyond the grave. They had been given one final forum in which to reject him and they had seized it. They loathed him more than they loved their own blood. Sirius struggled in vain not to think of Remus and Harry, but his sorrow and hurt were all too obvious, much to his vengeful relatives' delight. They laughed, happy to find a target for their mockery in death as they had in life.
"May I speak, Judge?"
Sirius glanced towards the voice and saw the Guardian who had met him when he came through the veil.
The Judge nodded. Silence fell over the gathered spirits.
"This man voiced deep regrets when he first arrived. He wished with all his heart to return to the living, not to regain what he had lost, but to pay the debts he still owes and make right the wrongs he believes he has done to others."
The Judge nodded again and then sat motionless for several long moments. Finally she rose slowly to tower regally above them. She turned to Sirius. "I have weighed the opinions of your ancestors. I have heard your words, from your own mouth and from what the Guardian tells us. I have examined the length of your years on earth and balanced your failings and your sins against your accomplishments and your grace. I find that the latter far outweigh the former. You have a greater understanding of the duties and obligations of the pure of blood than do most of your family. And, although you do not recognize this purity as the most vital ingredient of a person, you have taken to heart the essence of what it meant in times long past. And that is sufficient reason for me to ignore the wishes of your ancestors and to invoke the pact of Cognatus Putus."
Everything in his heart and mind and soul melded together in one glorious explosion of relief. "Thank you," he whispered in the most heartfelt gratitude he'd ever experienced.
"He must take a vow!" The harsh tones of Lucretia Black rang out.
"What vow do you wish him to take?" The Judge seemed amenable to whatever sick idea his mother had come up with.
"He must promise to marry a pureblood daughter from a noble house and to raise a family to carry on the family name."
Sirius tried to hide his dismay. The Judge had overruled them but still they sought to shackle him to the destiny they always wanted for him. Sirius remembered the Judge's words to the hostile spirit. "Only a fool would not raise questions." He shifted in his chair to face her.
"Judge, may I propose my own vow?"
Was that a twitch at the corner of her mouth? "You may."
"I promise to bind myself, body, heart and soul, for my lifetime and after my death, to a person of pure blood."
Yes, that was a definite twitch. Was he crazy or was the Judge trying to hide a smile?
"Your vow is accepted."
She knew, Sirius realized. Well, of course she knew. If she could examine the entire record of his days, she must know about Remus.
"There is one final condition required by the pact," the Judge said. "The return of the dead to life is not undertaken lightly by the powers. It is a gift not granted to any mortals other than pureblood wizards. A price must be paid for this gift in recognition that the time given back to you is precious beyond measure. Your normal life span will be cut in half. Instead of a life of 150 or so years, you will die at around half that age. This requirement is immutable. Should you refuse to accept this, you will be allowed to continue on your journey through the afterlife."
Sirius needed no time to consider this caveat. "I accept."
"Very well. The pact has been invoked, a vow has been made and the final condition accepted. I grant you your life, Sirius Black."
Sirius couldn't take his eyes off the Judge. His tried to force his scattershot thoughts into a semblance of order. He was happy, grateful, and felt profoundly unworthy to have been granted such a gift. Glancing towards his family, his brain momentarily shut down. The room was empty. His head snapped back towards the Judge. She was still there.
"Where did they-? Thank you. My brother - I'd like to talk to my brother. Where did they go?"
An exaggerated sigh from behind him clued him in to the continued presence of that curmudgeonly spirit.
"Their presence is no longer required."
Sirius tried to take comfort from the thought that some day he would again see Regulus, and they would finally be able to lay to rest all the misunderstandings of their blighted youth.
"What happens now? How do I go back?"
The Judge suddenly smiled and it was as if a warm spring sun had cast its glow over the winter-weary earth. "You will be sent back at the appropriate time. Forces unseen to mortals govern this world, the world beyond life. You can only return at certain times, when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. At the feast of Samhain, we will send you back. You must wait here until then."
Sirius was sure that, sooner or later, his questions would make the spirit hovering behind him hit him over the head. He asked anyway. "What day is it now, in the living world?"
The Judge only said, "You will be sent back soon."
She turned away and Sirius knew she would vanish, like every other entity in this place. He was overwhelmed by a sense of urgency and disquiet. "Thank you," he said, rising to his feet.
She had already started to fade, but suddenly her outline became clearer. "Something distresses you."
He once more tried to gather his thoughts, which flitted about like autumn leaves blown by the wind. "It's so unfair that a handful of people.souls.can be granted their lives back. Why, when so many others are more deserving of life, why is it fair that I benefit from this?"
"Is life always fair? Or death? You have only to look at your own experiences to answer those questions. You have been told why Cognatus Putus came into being eons ago. That is all that matters. It has nothing to do with fairness."
"Then, why did you let me propose my own vow? Why didn't you insist that I accept my mother's wording? Surely you realize that the blood line will end with my death."
"The pact's sole purpose is to grant life back to the last son. It makes no demands on whether or not he should procreate. When Cognatus Putus was established, the purebloods assumed that a family's last son would seek to continue his family line. They saw no need to make that a requirement."
"As far as the vow is concerned," she shrugged, "nothing prohibits the last son from proposing his own vow. It's always amazed me that so few think to do so." She glanced at the impatient spirit fidgeting behind Sirius. "Only a fool would hesitate to ask questions. And you are not a fool, Sirius Black."
He knew he would not see her again. "I will use the time given to me as best I can."
She was gone.
Sirius turned to the pale blue spirit, ready to be scolded again. Frowning impressively, the spirit merely said, "Come."
And in moments, or hours, or days, Sirius found himself in a small, rectangular, colorless room. It was dimly lit from an unseen source, with only a single chair in the middle of the floor. He was utterly alone. He paced out the dimensions of the room. His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud in an otherwise silent world. As he reached each wall, he pressed a hand against it, testing its solidity, seeking a hidden doorway. The walls were unyielding with no exit that he could detect. It unnerved him that the dimensions of the room were the same as his cell in Azkaban.
He paced rapidly back and forth, seeking to grasp at a thought, any thought, to drive away the panic that flooded through him. He hadn't been caged; he was simply in a waiting room. Don't think about cells. Don't think about eternity in a cell. Think about something else.
He started talking to himself. "Harry. List everything I know about Harry. He's almost sixteen. Or, wait. Maybe by now he's already turned sixteen. If I only knew what day it was. Harry's birthday is July 31. He is the only child of James and Lily Evans Potter. He has black hair like James, and green eyes like Lily. He lives at 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging in Surrey." And when he was done with Harry, Sirius said, "Remus," and repeated the exercise. He went through name after name after name. And after pacing for moments or hours or days, Sirius sat on the chair, trying to ignore his total isolation. He would wait patiently, he told himself. It was a small room. It was not a cell. It was not a cell. He waited.
It was not a cell.
TBC