Chapter Twenty-three: Hope

Summary: Twenty-third chapter. Twenty-six to go. That about sums it up.

The move to the house came the following day.

Harry was ecstatic over the move. He never knew his godfather had a house, much less one that fell into the dimensions of what Arabella had described to him the night before.

As soon as the portkey deposited them in the main entrance, and Arabella had shown him where his room was, Harry set off exploring. He couldn't believe how large the house was. It was three stories tall, with an attic and a basement, and had more rooms then Harry could keep track of as he poked about the corridors. And as he continued to happily poke about the various rooms, he began to develop a strong suspicion that several of them were enchanted in some way. A room he was sure served as a library or a study, would change into a bedroom or a broom closet when he came back to it later.

Although the house was large and offered plenty to occupy his time, Harry couldn't help but be a little disappointed that he wasn't allowed outside any further than the garden outback. Leaning over the gate, he stared wistfully at the large field behind the house that stretched as far as he could see, the tops of trees barely visible in the distance. Sirius had joined him at the gate one day, explaining how he used to practice flying in the field. The nearest muggle was miles away and so there was never any danger of being seen. And the field offered plenty of wide-open space for the inexperienced flyer to learn how to steer a broom before actually bumping into anything.

But as happy as he was living at the house, Harry couldn't help but notice that his godfather seemed to be getting more and more agitated by the day. He was sure Sirius mood had to do with how worried he was as days went by and they didn't hear that Snape had found an antidote, but he didn't have a clue what he could do to help Sirius. Arabella had suggested that any magic use in the house be limited to necessity only, out of consideration for Sirius' condition limiting his own magical ability. But past that Harry felt fairly helpless against the situation.

Harry knew Sirius wasn't suppose to be using his magic since, when they first arrived at the house, Dumbledore had threatened to take Sirius' wand away from him if he didn't stop abusing what magic he had left. And Arabella had taken up the task of seeing that he adhered to Dumbledore's warning. She had read Sirius a riot act when she had caught him the morning after their arrival working out in the garden, scooting pots and rakes about the small patio. Sirius had meekly promised to be good after that.

But two mornings later Harry woke up to the sounds of voices outside in the garden. Getting up he looked down to see Sirius just coming into view from under his window with Arabella following closely behind. In his hand Sirus was carrying a broom.

"Sirius, please," Arabella was begging. "This isn't a good idea. You could get hurt."

Sirius turned suddenly to her. "I'm not going to get hurt, 'Bella. I'll keep it low. Nothing spectacular."

"But Sirius..." she pleaded.

"What is it?" he asked in an irritated tone. "Think I can't even do this anymore? It doesn't take any great magic to ride a broom, 'Bella. Just a little skill. And I would hope I still at least have that."

Arabella looked pleadingly at him as Sirius strode to the open lawn in the center of the garden and mounted the broom. He gripped the handle firmly and kicked off.

Sirius barely managed to get his feet under himself quickly enough to keep from hitting the ground. He paused in stunned amazement before turning briefly to Arabella.

"It's not used to me," he stated forcefully, though Arabella could hear the note of uncertainty causing his voice to tremble slightly. "Give it a second."

Sirius waited for a moment, then kicked off again to give the broom some height. But the results were exactly the same. The broom rose no higher than Sirius' kickoff launched it into the air.

Sirius turned a stunned look to Arabella, who stood stone still at the edge of the lawn, her hands clasp so tightly in front of her that her knuckles were white. She looked like she could barely keep fighting back her tears.

"I don't understand." Sirius mumbled. "I could do this yesterday. It flew for me yesterday." He added, turning to Arabella.

Arabella stood with her hands still clasp in front of her. "Brooms only respond to the magic they feel in us, Sirius," she stated quietly, her voice shaking with each word. "That's why muggles...."

"...couldn't ride a broom even if they had a proper one." Sirius finished for her. He stood in bewildered silence for a few moments, staring down at the broom in his hands, as the realization settled on him. "Well, joke's on me then, hey?" He said finally in a voice he was fighting to keep under control. "It does take more than skill to ride a broom. And what it takes...I no longer have."

"Sirius...," Arabella began. But she stopped as Sirius came striding back towards her. He thrust the broom into her hands as he walked past her without a word.

Harry came bolting out of the back door, nearly running into his godfather as Sirius brushed past him.

"Sirius...?" Harry asked. But Arabella stopped him as she came up behind him.

"Let him go, Harry," she said quietly. "Just leave him be for a little while, all right?"

Harry turned questioningly to his godmother. "Why? What's wrong?"

Arabella looked down at her godson as she caressed a hand over his head. "Sirius couldn't make a broom respond to him."

"So?"

"Brooms only fly, Harry, because the person on them is a witch or a wizard. The broom can feel the magic in us. If it doesn't sense that ability in the person sitting on it..."

Harry stared after his godfather. "...then it won't fly."

"Even if a muggle got hold of one of our brooms, they couldn't make it fly no matter how hard they tried."

Harry stood with his mouth open. Slowly he turned back to his godmother. "Then ....Sirus has no magic left at all. It's gone."

Arabella slowly nodded her head, desperately fighting back her tears.

An hour later Arabella knocked lightly on Sirius' door when he didn't come down for lunch. When she received no answer she quietly pushed the door open and cautiously peered in.

Inside the room Sirius sat in a chair by the window with his back to her.

"Sirius?" she asked. But again she received no reply. Slowly she stepped into the room and closed the door. She walked across the room and knelt by the chair, staring up into Sirius' tear stained face. She had never seen him like this. This devastated and utterly lost. Being a wizard was, at his core, how he defined himself. Now he had no magic, no defining characteristics to hold onto to. It must seem to him as though he had lost himself along with his magic.

"I wish...." she began softly, laying a hand over his.

"What?" He cut her off sharply, yanking his hand away from her's. "That I had my magic back? That I wasn't helpless. Or useless?"

"Sirius, no...."

"I guess there is one bright spot in all of this. The ministry can't send me back to Azkaban now. They can't send muggles there. Against the law. Guess I'll go to the muggle prison now."

"You're not going back to any prison, Sirius," Arabella stated fiercely.

"Why not?" he pointed out. "That whole reason they even agreed to Moody's suggestion was that he convinced them you and I together were the best choices to protect Harry. What good am I now? None. And it's only a matter of time before they see that."

'They are not sending you back to Azkaban." Arabella stated determinately.

"They have no use for me if I'm of no use to them. And that's what I am, 'Bella. To them, to you, and to Harry." he stated bitterly as another tear found its way down his cheek. "Useless."

Arabella reached up quickly and brushed it away. "You're not useless, Sirius. Not to me, and certainly not to Harry. It doesn't matter to him if you can't do magic anymore. What matters to him is that you're there for him. You know how much Harry looks up to you, Sirius. How very much he loves you. He practically has you on a pedestal."

"Well, problem with being on pedestals is it makes you such an easy target for others. Besides, I don't want to be on any pedestal for Harry. I don't want to be his hero, Arabella. I want to be his..."

But Sirus abruptly stopped himself before he said another word. He suddenly fell into silence, staring forlornly at the carpet in front of him.

Arabella wrapped her hands about his arm and laid her head against it.

"I know, my love." She said softly. "I know."

Sirius turned slowly to her. "And what about you, 'Bella? Does it matter to you?"

Arabella gave him her warmest smile as she laid her hand against his cheek. "It has never matter to me what you were, Sirius Black. Wizard, muggle, or something in between. I was doomed to fall in love with you even if you had been a troll. Because it was never what you were that I cared about, Sirius. It was who you were. And for all his magic, Voldemort can never change that."

Sirius had no answer to her words. He had never expected such statement from her.

"Besides," Arabella added after a very long, uncomfortable pause between them, "for all you know, Severus has already found the answer to your...condition."

Sirius huffed. "Severus hasn't finished having a good laugh at my 'condition'."

"Well, we'll find out tomorrow. We can owl him and see how things are going. We should have an answer by the end of the week."

Sirius stared back at her, his eyes betraying a sudden, frightening calm in him. "And if his answer is that there isn't one?" He asked her.

Arabella gave him a playfully irritated stare, desperate to draw him back out of wherever he was threatening to shut himself away behind those eyes. "Does your ego honestly need that much stroking today?" she asked.

Sirius took her hand and slowly guided her to her feet and into his lap. "You refuse to let me wallow in my self-pity, don't you?"

"There's very little time for it, Sirius." she replied.

Sirius wound his arms about her waist and laid his head against her chest. "How much worst can things get?" He sighed quietly.

Just then Harry poked his head in the door.

"Geez," he stated, quickly covering his eyes, "can't I ever walk into a room with you two in it and be safe about what I'm gonna see?"

"Most people find knocking solves that problem." Sirius replied, not making one move to change his position.

"What is it, Harry?" Arabella asked as she absently played with Sirius' hair.

"Hedwig's back." he replied. "She's got a letter."

Arabella and Sirius quickly hurried down the stairs after Harry. Hedwig sat on the table taking bites out of Harry's sandwich. A large black envelope was still tied securely to her leg.

"It's from Snape!" Sirius exclaimed with a slight note of excitement, recognizing the characteristic envelope and hardly believing he was actually happy to see it.

With unsteady hands Sirius untied to letter. Hedwig stepped up onto Sirius' outstretched arm, allowing him to scratch her head as a thank you before she flew off for her cage and a good sleep.

Sirius tried to open the letter with little success past his shaking hands. Arabella finally took it from him.

"Here," she stated kindly, "let me."

Arabella quickly opened the letter and quickly scanned the contents as Sirius and Harry looked on anxiously.

"Well?" Sirius stated with growing impatience.

Arabella turned her eyes to him. "Sirius," she said softly as a smile lit across her face, "he says there's hope."