CHAPTER 34
UNCLE ALPHARD'S LEGACY

It was after Christmas that Sirius received the letter from Aunt Elladora. He'd had a lovely time at the Potter's for Christmas. Sprite had been following Mr. Potter around the entire holidays, trying to get him to check on an upstairs closet. She thought that something had possessed the coats into jeering at her whenever she walked past them. But Mr. Potter had been distant from everyone this Christmas. Mrs. Potter had kept herself busy in the kitchen, doing the chores that Sprite was used to doing.

"No, Mistress Potter! Let Sprite do Sprite's job!" Sprite pleaded with her mistress as Mrs. Potter kicked her out of the kitchen, "Sprite wants to wash! Sprite wants to cook!"

James had tried to take his father up on a game of wizard's chess, but he had been too preoccupied with something, and left for "work." Mrs. Potter had then went upstairs for a nap.

But the holidays were still very cheery for Sirius, because this was his home now. No more Grimmauld Place. No more Kreacher. No more Mother and Father. No more Regulus or Bellatrix or Narcissa. He was free.

He wondered if his name had been blasted off the map yet.

The day the letter came to the Potter's residence, Sirius had given up on ever hearing from the Blacks again. It was from Aunt Elladora. He tore the envelope open.

It read:

Sirius Black:

Your uncle, Alphard, died a week ago from a massive heart attack. He has left you some of his possessions in his will, and you are asked to attend the reading of his will on Saturday the 28th of December at Affairs and Welfares Cabinent at the Minsitry of Magic.

Sincerely,

Elladora Black

Alphard was dead.

"Nice to tell me a week later," Sirius huffed as he got ready to go that Saturday morning. Mrs. Potter had offered to go along with him, but he had told her that this was something that he had to do himself.

He arrived at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and made his way through the phone booth, and down the hall to where the Affairs and Welfares Cabinet was situated. Third level corridor.

And then he saw the sight. Aunt Elladora, Bellatrix, Narcissa Mother, Father, Regulus, and standing a little away from the rest of the family, Andromeda with her sixth month old daughter in arms. Behind her, stood a handsome man that was trying not to make eye contact with any of the other people waiting outside the room. Andromeda looked miserable, but she forced a smile at Sirius as they embraced, and Sirius examined her child.

"She's a metamorphagus," Andromeda said, "Hasn't really gotten control of her powers yet. Looks like a new baby every day. Sometimes I have to tickle her to stop shifting."

Nymphadora looked up at Sirius, and smiled.

Sirius smiled back.

"Survivors of Alphard Black?"

An official barrister was now poised outside the door, holding a folder. He ushered them in, and they took their seats around the large table that was hovering in the middle of the room.

"We are here to read the last testament of Messr. Alphard Black," the barrister said, "We will begin now."

Andromeda took her husband's hand, and squeezed it. Sirius felt like he wanted to die. He had avoided his parents so far. Maybe if he pretended they weren't there. Maybe if he just kept looking straight ahead and pretended that they weren't there, would they not see him?

"I, Alphard Alexander Black, on the fourteenth of June, year nineteen hundred and seventy two, write my last testament. For my loving wife, Elladora Black, I leave one thousand Galleons. For my eldest daughter, Andromeda Black, I leave my flat in London and the sum of one thousand and forty two Galleons. For my daughter, Narcissa Black, I leave the sum of nine hundred and sixty three Galleons. And for my youngest daughter, Bellatrix Black, I leave the sum of four hundred Galleons. For my brother, I leave the sum of three hundred Galleons. And to my nephew, Sirius Black, I leave my remaining four thousand and twenty four Galleons."

"What?" Elladora shrieked, "Four thousand Galleons to that ingrate?!"

"That is what it says, Ms. Black," the barrister said, "Now please, sit back down and we will continue."

"The little brat doesn't deserve any of his money! He disgraced our name! He is dead to us!" Mrs. Black screeched from her spot next to Sirius's father.

Sirius's eyes grew hollow again.

"There must be some mistake," his father said, "Alphard and I spoke of our wills, and we knew who was getting what ."

"This is his last testament, Mr. Black," the barrister said, "Are you questioning the law?"

"No, I'm questioning my brother's sanity," he retorted.

"The will stands as his last wishes," the barrister said, "And by law, Sirius Black will receive four thousand Galleons from his uncle's estate."

If they hadn't hated Sirius before, the Blacks hated him now.

Andromeda worked as his bodyguard as they made their way out of the room, and back into the hallway. Aunt Elladora looked like she was going to kill him on the spot, and his mother was edging closer and closer, her hands twitching as if she wanted to place them around his neck and choke him.

"Dad," Sirius said finally, turning around to face his parents, "I am sorry about Uncle Alphard."

"Don't you call me that," his father said, "You never call me that again."

"Well, I'm your son, that's what I ."

"I don't have a son, other than Regulus," he retorted, "I never did. I never will."

Sirius's eyes grew more hollow than before, and his face turned stone cold. He narrowed his eyes, and then said, "And I never had a father, then."

"That's right, you didn't," he said, and then led a hysterical Mrs. Black out of the corridor and out of sight. She was still flexing her bony fingers.

"Well, nice to meet you, Sirius," Ted Tonks's hand was extended, and Sirius blinked at it. Then, he shook it, and smiled at Andromeda.

"You keep out of trouble," he said, and then turned to the little baby who had changed her nose and hair, "And nice to meet you, miss," he said, and smiled back at Andromeda.

"Do you have a place to go?" she asked, "We can make room ."

"I've got a friend. I've been crashing at his place for about half a year," Sirius sighed, "All right. Well, I better be getting back."

He stepped past Regulus, who was talking to Elladora and Narcissa, and down the hall. He was truly alone now. He had no family. He only had himself.

But since when had it been any different?

***

"Four thousand Galleons?"

"Yeah," Sirius said to a dismayed James, "There's an account open at Gringotts now for me."

"What are you going to do with Four thousand Galleons?" James asked.

"Well, I was thinking about getting out of your hair and finding my own place to live," Sirius said, "Some sort of a bachelor pad, or something. A flat in London or something."

James's face fell, "You want to move out?"

"No, I don't want to," Sirius said, "I think that I should, don't you? I mean, we can spice it up together. Decorate it. Get some posters, lights, music. You know, the whole package."

"Whatever you want to do, Padfoot," James said, "If you're sure you want to leave."

"I think it'd be best if I did," Sirius said.

"Well, I know that Dad knows a Muggle real estate agent ." James thought, "I guess that we can talk to him. Maybe get you a good deal on something. Four thousand Galleons!"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter agreed to help Sirius find a new place to live that next day. They took a trip to Gringotts in Diagon Alley, and exchanged a good chunk of his legacy into Muggle money. Then Mr. Potter referred him to his friend, and in no time, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James were moving in new furniture into the flat.

It was a little run down, but nothing that he couldn't call home. He looked around the living room, very content, as James helped Remus with an old motheaten couch.

"The girls will be flocking to you," Remus coughed, brushing the dust off of his arm.

They had all taken their last week of the holidays off to help him into his flat. He was very grateful toward them. Ever since the incident with Snape, he had felt as if Remus was trying to avoid him.

"This can be our headquarters," Peter said.

"Headquarters? What are you? Five?" Sirius snorted, and then grabbed one of the pillows sitting on the floor next to a box of kitchen utensils.

Peter turned red.

"Hey, Moony, catch," James said, throwing a box to him. Remus caught it, and then set in in one of the rooms out of sight. It was a smaller flat, yet big enough to be comfortable for him.

"It feels weird," James said, sitting down on the couch. Dust flew into the air, and Sirius coughed.

"What?" Peter asked.

"Well, Padfoot's moving out," James said, "He's all grown up now. It's like . we're not children anymore. We've got about a year left until we're out in the real world. Can you imagine any of us out by ourselves?"

"We're not going to be by ourselves," Sirius said, "We're gonna help each other out."

"All set to go," Remus said, clapping his hands together as he exited from the other room, "Ready to eat?"

"Where do you want to go?" Sirius asked courteously. Remus gave him a surprised look, as if being courteous was a first for him.

"Well," Remus said, "I was expecting somewhere in Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron?"

"Nah, too crowded," James said, "It's Saturday night. We can go to my place. Sprite will have a seizure when she realizes she can cook for a full crowd."

"Excellent," Sirius jumped up, and grabbed his keys, "Off to the Potter's it is, then."

Remus and Peter had never been to James's house. But they were greeted with the same enthusiasm as Sirius was by Sprite as they entered the house. Mr. Potter was no where to be seen, but Mrs. Potter was wiping her hands on an apron, her cheeks rosy and sweet, as the four boys entered, stomachs grumbling.

It was a matter of minutes by the time Sprite had put together everything in the kitchen together into a monstrosity of a feast. The six of them sat around the table, Grace being led by Mrs. Potter, and then Remus adding in a few words of his own. Then, they dug into their food, trying to make conversation through their bites.

"So, Remus, I've heard a lot about you," Mrs. Potter said. Remus eyed James and Sirius warily, before Mrs. Potter added, "How is your mum feeling these days? Better, I hope?"

"Yes, much better," Remus said, his face relaxing.

"Do you attend school with James, too?" Mrs. Potter asked Peter, who was stuffing his face full of chicken.

"Yes," he managed to get out before taking a swig of his wine.

"So, Padfoot," James asked Sirius, "What are you going to do with the rest of your money?"

Sirius swallowed, and then smiled at James, "Well, have you ever seen a motorcycle?"

James nodded.

"I'm looking into buying one of them," Sirius said, "Four speeds. Maximum flying velocity. An excellent choice for a vehicle."

"Those things can be dangerous," Mrs. Potter tutted, cutting her chicken into slices, "My uncle had one of those. He flew smack dab into an airplane. Never saw him again."

"They aren't that dangerous, Mum," James argued, "Your uncle was just dim, that's all."

There was laughter shared around the table, and then Remus said, "Thank you, Mrs. Potter. The food is delicious."

"Well, you're very welcome, Remus," Mrs. Potter said, handing him some more mashed pototatoes,

"Such wonderful manners you have. James could learn from you, I believe."

James made a face, and Remus smiled.

"How does your flat look, Sirius?"

"Great," Sirius said, "Can you thank Mr. Potter for me?"

"Of course."

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk, mostly getting to know the uncommon guests at the table. Sirius, Remus, and Peter left after dinner, thanking Mrs. Potter for a wonderful feast, and then remembering that Sprite had cooked it, turned to the disgruntled elf and apologized and then thanked her.

"Ah, no need to thank Sprite," Sprite said, shuffling her feet. But from the look on her face, they could tell there was a need to.

They said goodnight to James, and then the three boys trekked back to Sirius's new home to call it a night.

"So, who's got the couch?" Sirius asked, "Because I've got the bed."

"Doesn't matter to me," Remus said, "What do you reckon, Peter?"

"I'll take the couch," he said quickly, and then Sirius told Remus that he had a spare mattress he had brought from Wendy's room with him.

***

"Hey, Padfoot," Remus said as Sirius helped him dress the mattress.

"Yeah?" he was wrestling with the bed cover.

Remus looked at him, and then decided against saying what he was going to say, "Never mind."

"No," Sirius said, returning his stare, "What? What were you going to ask me."

"Nothing," Remus said quietly, and then pointed at Peter sleeping on the couch, "Sleeps like a rock, huh?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, still eyeing him.

It was quiet for a moment, while Sirius wrapped the mattress in a blue sheet, and then Remus said, very unsure of himself, "You didn't really . think that I was going to kill him, did you?"

"Can we not talk about it?"

"No," Remus said, "Because I don't understand you. I really don't. I thought that maybe ."

"Maybe what?" Sirius barked, dropping the mattress, "Tell me again how I maybe should have thought about it. Maybe I would have been a little more careful? Maybe I should have thought about you and the consequences? Tell me something I haven't heard, Remus."

Remus didn't say anything, but only took a sheet and draped it over his makeshift bed. Sirius sighed, and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"But it was a stupid thing to do," Remus added blandly.

Sirius let out a forced laugh, and then said, "He deserved every minute of it. Oh, what I would've given to have seen the look on his face when he saw you. It must have been priceless."

"Wish I could tell you," Remus said darkly, and then threw a pillow onto the bed.

Sirius looked at Remus. He was hurting. He could tell. And he felt a pang of guilt rush through his heart. But he shook it off, and just patted Remus on the back.

"Good night, Moony," he said sorely as he left the living room and shut the door quietly behind him as he entered the bedroom.

Remus looked after him. Sirius's back was turned to him. He looked years older. His hair was longer, his silhouette larger. James was right. They weren't little boys anymore.

Sirius was hurting. He could tell. More than he had ever hurt. But there was nothing that he could do to help him. As Dumbledore had told him many years ago, he would have to fight his own monsters.
Sirius would have to fight his own monsters.