Thakns to Joycelyn Solo, my loyal beta, and to Luna Moonlight Fawn, Sparky and The Female Nerd for reviewing. After this chapter there will be only one more left, so enjoy this fic while it lasts!

Chapter Twenty-Four: War and Peace

During the couple of days following the potted plant incident, Connor felt a distinct air of coldness emanating from Sirius. At first, he'd felt rather clueless. He couldn't recall doing anything that could have upset the man. Then he remembered what Spike had said about hurting his feelings when Connor had suggested calling Severus for help. But honestly! What was he supposed to do? He didn't know Sirius that well, and his feeble attempts hadn't given Connor much confidence in his ability to beat the plant. It was only natural he would resort to calling Severus during an emergency, whom he had more reason to trust. Wouldn't Harry have done the same, had the situation been the opposite?

In spite of this logical reasoning, Sirius still looked rather resentful over the whole episode. Connor couldn't understand it, but he was perceptive enough to note that there was something not quite right about Severus and Sirius. Although his mum had refused to talk about it and Connor didn't dare to ask Severus, the boy had noticed how Sirius stiffened every time Severus was mentioned, and he'd also noted the insistence of his tutor on him writing every day... as if he were afraid Connor would be murdered in his sleep or something.

Adults could be so weird, sometimes.

One day, Connor couldn't stand it any longer so he bluntly asked Sirius whether he was mad at him or not. The man had looked surprised

'Why would I be mad at you,' he inquired, sounding bemused. Connor shrugged.

'I dunno. Maybe 'cause I called Severus to lend us a hand during the potted plant incident.'

A fleeting shadow crossed Sirius' face and he stiffened slightly. However, soon his muscles relaxed again as he recovered his usual carefree air.

''Course not. Don't worry ver it, kiddo.'

Relieved at these words, Connor pretty much forgot about the whole incident. His mother was still being a little cold to Sirius, whereas the man seemed to be extra cautious when she was around, as though he was a little afraid of her reaction if he misstepped. Harry and Connor, though, were blissfully unaware of this. There had so much to be done, so much to be talked about. Harry wanted to learn all he could about Hogwarts and Connor was eager to share his wisdom, and in their free time there were films to be watched, places to be visited and games to be played so they never got bored.

As a result of this, Connor had forgotten all about Sirius' imagined or not resentment when one night he slipped under the blankets of his bed and felt a tight grip on his ankle.

He yelped, jumping out of bed and knocking the bedside table over. The lamp smashed against the wooden floor, the clock rolled over until it ended up under the bed but Connor payed no attention – whatever was grabbing his leg, it was not loosening its grip.

Unnerved, he jerked his leg, only to feel a slippery thing sliding all the way up his leg, twisting and straining it. Shocked, he looked down and saw a greenish, thin thing-y that looked too much like a snake for Connor to be comfortable. In spite of being raised to be the perfect Slytherin, Connor couldn't have liked serpents, snakes or the like any less. He tried to shove it off with his hands with no success: it seemed like the harder he tried to get free, the tighter the grip was. Just getting a little desperate, perhaps even panicking a bit, Connor looked around and his gaze landed on his heavy Herbology book. This will do. He stretched out one arm and grasped the book, as with his other hand he tried to keep the snake at bay. He hesitated a moment, sparing a glance at the thick book and then at his trapped leg. Here it goes...

Closing his eyes, he raised his right arm and let it fall with all his strangth on the slippery trap. As the book made full impact with his knee, Connor felt a blinding pain going all the way up his leg. He bit his lower lip not to whimper, and dared to open one eye and peek. Damn it! The bloody thing was still there.

This time, with both his eyes wide open, he raised his arm again, but was very careful to aim well before letting his arm fall. His efforts paid off, as the back of the book hit the snake, which not only let go of his leg, but also flew a meter before falling to the floor. His lungs depressing in a sigh of relief, the heavy book slipped from his hands as he approached the snake, which was now lying motionless on the floor. Connor frowned. Why was it motionless? Had he killed it?

He shrugged. Honestly, he couldn't have cared less about the wretched thing. How on earth had it managed to make its way into his bed? They lived on the second floor, for Merlin's beard! In the middle of London, not the countryside! So what was this snake doing in his bedroom?

He poked the thing with his foot, cautiously. When it did not move, Connor dared to kneel next to it in order to take a closer look. Anyone can imagine the boy's surprise when, at a close up, he could very well distinguish a white tag fixed to the snake. Frowning, Connor leant closer to read it.

'Son of a...'

-

Darla had just gotten home after a long and tiresome day – well, night – at the hotel. After shutting the door behind her, she dropped her purse on a chair and began rubbing her feet. God, what a hellish night it had been. One of the hotel guests had been dumb enough to fall asleep while he was smoking, setting the room on fire as a consequence. Nobody had been hurt, fortunately, but it had caused quite some mayhem and panic among the other guests and employees. Darla not only had to deal with the annoyed firemen, her even more annoyed boss and the bloodsucking guys from the insurance company, but also try to calm down everybody, as hysteria seemed to have spread like an infectious disease. Darla closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her gaze fell on a certain Sirius Black, who was sprawled on her couch watching TV. Watching a very loud TV. Her look soon turned into a glare.

'May I know,' she hissed, 'the reason you're watching TV so loudly when the children are supposed to be asleep?'

Sirius winced, noting for the first time she was there. He went some shades paler, but to his credit he didn't avert her eyes.

'The boy's are already asleep. I bet they can't even hear it from their bedrooms...'

Before Darla could make a snide remark, she heard a door hitting a wall and turned to look in direction of the corridor. To her utter shock, she saw Connor standing there, in his striped green pyjamas that were a little too short for him already, with an absolutely murderous look on his face.

'Connor, what's wrong...?'

Without even sparing a glance in her direction, Connor glared at Sirius, who'd half risen from his seat and had gone completely pale all of a sudden. What the...?

Connor strode towards Sirius, pointing at him with one trembling finger and clutching something greenish in his other hand. He was white from rage and his eyes were flashing with anger.

'You!' Connor's hiss was almost as deadly as Darla's. 'You treacherous, lying, resentful bastard...'

'Connor! Mind your language!'

The boy winced, suddenly becoming aware of his mother's presence. For a moment he was at a loss of words, but then his gaze fell on Sirius again and he recovered his inspiration.

'Lunatic, stupid, moronic whelp,' he exclaimed, fuming. 'You said you didn't care, didn't you, and at the first chance you got...'

Darla turned round, hands on her hips, and scowled most dangerously at Sirius.

'Black, what on earth have you done to my son?'

The man's eyes widened, then his terrified expression was replaced with an indignant one.

'Nothing! Honestly, got no idea what he's barking about...'

'This! This is what I'm talking about!' Connor roared, jerking what seemed to be – were her eyes deceiving her? – some sort of small snake. How on earth had a snake entered the house...? Oh. Of course.

'It says Zonko's, on the tag. Who else could have bought this? Not Harry, who's never been to Hogsmeade, neither Spike or my mum so unless you're cheeky enough to accuse Severus, you put this damned thing in my bed!'

Darla's tone dropped a couple of octaves.

'What have you done to my child, Black?'

Finally deciding that playing innocent wouldn't work, Sirius waved a dismissive hand.

'Nothing, really! It's just something I got in a joke shop – Hogwarts students go there all the time, honestly I don't know what the whole fuss is about. It was just a prank.'

'A prank? A prank? You nearly gave me a heart-attack, wanker!'

As she looked from the affronted adult to the infuriated child, Darla realised this was going to be an even longer night than she would have expected.

-

The following day, the atmosphere at the flat was a little... tense, for lack of a better word. Connor was still furious at Sirius' trick, whereas the man complained about the boy's lack of humour sense. Harry tried his best to remain neutral and Darla, after scolding both Sirius and Connor for their childish behaviour, had given up on the matter. She felt too tired to try anything else. When Dumbledore had asked her for a favour, she hadn't thought it would involve taking care of three children instead of two.

However, that afternoon Sirius had a brilliant idea to make Connor's ill feelings dissipate: he suggested a visit to an amusement park. Even though it was Muggle entertainment, clearly below what he was used to, Connor adored going to the amusement park and getting into the most dangerous and scary games. He never let a chance of going pass... even when it meant swallowing his pride.

Sirius, Darla was relieved to see, seemed a little ashamed over his previous behaviour and, even though he hadn't explicitly said he was sorry, made an effort to make up things with Connor. As the boy was determinadly ignoring Sirius, the man, after a moment's hesitation, approached him, his head held high, and offered to accompany Harry and him to the amusement park. Connor took a moment longer than necessary to lie down his book and spare Black a considering glance. Sirius ruffled his hair with one hand, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

'You're not still mad at the Zonko's snake thing, are you? 'Cause it was just a silly joke – didn't mean to scare you or anything...'

Connor contemplated Sirius a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes cold and detached. However, soon warmth washed over his face.

''Course not.' The boy waved a dismissive hand, and then his eyes were alight with expectation. 'So... when would we be going to the park...?'

Lucky thing, Darla reflected, that Connor wasn't the resentful type like Severus. It would have made the atmosphere at home rather stressful. She smiled proudly. Hers was a sensible boy. He wouldn't hold a grudge at Black's idiocy.

Later on, Darla would idly wonder if all mothers had such a delusional vision of their children.

-

'He's such a wanker,' Connor hissed to the phone. 'He thinks he's so cool, playing tricks on me as if he were one of the Weasley twins... What does he think he's playing at? For Merlin's beard, he's about Severus' age, he is so old...'

Connor heard a ill-concealed snigger in the other end of the line.

'Seems to me that Black's got the Peter Pan Syndrome of never growing up, huh?'

Connor snorted. 'If by that you mean he's a moron who hasn't realised he's closer to hitting thirty than twelve,' he drawled, with the horrified shock of one still young enough to see "thirty" as a century, 'then yes, he has. Honestly, Spike! Can't he just act like an adult? Not even Harry's that childish, and he's a full year younger than me... I bet the reason he put that... that gross fake snake in my bed was because he's still angry 'cause I called Severus for help that day... like I didn't have good reason to do so, when all he'd managed to do was brandish his useless wand like a dork!'

This time, Spike didn't bother to conceal his laughter.

'He did put on quite a show, didn't he?'

Connor was too bad-tempered to laugh. 'And he dared to tell me he wasn't mad at me anymore... that it was just an innocent joke... but I'm not stupid. I know perfectly well he was looking for a petty revenge!'

'Revenge, even if it is petty, can be sweet all the same,' Spike said softly. Connor frowned, his curiosity piqued.

'What do you have in mind?'

Connor thought he could almost see Spike's broadening smirk.

'Well, I'm sure you and me can think of somethin'...'

-

Darla was surprised when Spike unexpectadly came for a visit one evening, but thought nothing of it. Had she seen the mischievious glance he and Connor exchanged, or the way he surreptitiously showed the boy something hidden in his inner pocket, she might have thought otherwise.

Spike, however, had the perfect excuse to conceal the real motives behind his visit: he'd gotten a second-hand karaoke machine and wanted to test it, "but if I wanted to sing on my own I could do it in the shower, thank you very much."

They tested the machine, which worked better than expected, in turns. Connor and Harry made an attempt at 'Help' by The Beatles. Connor would never be a great singer but he managed to perform reasonably well, whereas Harry was too shy to be properly heard.

Spike predictably chose the Sex Pistols. Darla had to admit he was a great singer. He could even have done it professionally. Of course, she would not tell him that. Spike was already quite vain about his own merits.

After Darla's own performance, Sirius thought of singing 'A little less conversation' by none other than Elvis Presley. They all laughed until their ribs ached at his superb imitation of the mythical dance, which had been Sirius' intention all along.

However, there was another reason they felt their ribs cracking with repressed laughter, why Darla and Spike avoided each other's gaze, why Connor's lips trembled and why Harry's cheeks were flushed. Oblivious to all this, Sirius brightly asked:

'So? Did you like it?'

Words failed Darla, but one could always count on Spike.

'You know what, Black? You sing almost as well as Connor's old man.'

At this comment, Connor put a fist into his mouth to prevent himself from cackling whereas Darla sought refuge behind Spike. At first, Sirius smiled, clueless, until he no longer could take Connor's and Darla's ill-concealed laughter as a praise. Somewhat offended, he rose from the chair he'd sunk into after the energic dance and stiffly announced he would take a shower. At his words both Connor and Spike jolted, exchanging a mischievious glance, but Darla was too busy suffocating her own hilarity to see it.

'Who's up for a game of Pictionary?'

Darla noted, nothing short of perplexed, that both Spike and Connor were playing dreadfully, which was weird as Connor adored that game. That evening, though, his attention seemed to be elsewhere as well as Spike's, and he was constantly darting glances at the bathroom's door. Darla frowned and said nothing, certain that she would soon find out what those two were up to.

And sure she did.

The noise of water splattering in the bathroom stopped, marking the end of Black's shower and an increase of Connor's evident anxiety, whereas Spike, a little more subtly, caressed the contents of his inner pocket. Darla and Harry stopped playing to watch them. None of them knew what was going on, none of them asked. Instead, they waited in silence as Connor's eyes twinkled and Spike smirked. Then...

'ANGEL!'

The four of them jumped and Darla was certain she would have had a heart attack had her heart been beating in the first place. Angel? Why would Black scream Angel's name...?

The bathroom's door flew open to reaveal the looming, menacing form of one very pissed off Sirius Black. Without muttering a word, he strode towards them, splattering water all the way down the hall, until he came to a halt in front of Connor, who didn't lower his gaze.

'Angel, you will pay for this.'

Startled for a moment at the discovery that 'Angel' was none other than Connor, Darla did not question herself for a moment why Black was claiming he would get revenge at Connor or what the boy could have possibly done. They didn't have to wonder for long, though.

The first thing Darla noted about Black's appearance was that he looked very mad. The second, that he hadn't dressed himself properly yet, wearing only a pair of trousers. The third was that his normally long, sleek black hair had suddenly turned...

'Turquoise? Sirius, why is your hair...,' Harry inquired, until dawning comprehension was shown on his face. 'Ohhhh...'

He could say no more, as in that moment the very familiar, very irritating sound of a camera flash was heard. Oh, no...

Sirius' head turned, his eyes widening in rage, and Spike seized his chance to take at least three more pictures. So that was what Spike had been hiding: a small, modern Japanese camera.

There was sudden pandemonioum. Roaring with fury, Sirius tried to snatch the camera from Spike's hands, but the vampire merely laughed and ran in circles around him, outside his reach, never stopping to take pictures of Sirius' now laughable hair. Finally getting tired, Sirius rounded on Connor instead.

'You little demon, I should have known better than to trust you...'

'Black, stop accusing my son. You can't know for certain it was him.'

The man's eyes flashed with anger.

'I can't? Darla, in case you haven't noticed, no Muggle dye can turn black hair into bright turquoise. This was done by magic, by a Colour-Changing Potion surreptitiously slipped into my shampoo!'

Darla could not deny Black had a point and she frowned when she remembered that Potions was Connor's best subject. Before she could come up with something to say, though, they heard Harry's shy voice:

'You know, Sirius, it doesn't look so bad. It... it matches your eyes,' he finished somewhat lamely. Everyone stared at him.

'His eyes are grey, Scarface.'

Harry looked crestfallen. 'Well... yeah, but it suits him all the same.'

A silence followed Harry's feeble attempt to make peace, until it was broken by the sound of Spike's camera.

'Son of a b-'

'No cursing in my house, Black!'

He stared at her, incredulous. Then he grabbed a strand of infuriating turquoise hair and exclaimed:

'Look what they've done to my hair, Darla! It's, it's...'

'Turquoise?'

Sirius glared at Connor's broadening grin.

'You'll see, Angel, when I get back at you...'

'Black, don't you dare threaten my child...'

'Sirius, you fully deserved it for being such a wanker...'

'STOP!'

Darla's bellow got the effect she had been looking for: everyone fell silent. She scowled and the other four took a step backwards.

'Black, stop both whinning like a child and threatening my son or not even your mother will recognize you when I'm done with you. Connor, stop cursing or you'll be grounded until you turn twenty-five. Spike, put that damned camera away and get out of my sight, 'cause I'm certain it was you who put this ridiculous idea in Connor's head. Harry –' The boy's eyes widened in fear but he did not flinch. 'Please, dear, bring me a glass of water, would you?'

Harry did so and Darla drank its contents in one gulp. Then she turned to glare at the three miscreants, one at a time.

'Spike, take that camera and go now.'

'Darla, you have no proof –'

'I said now, Spike.'

Reluctantly he left, with one last sympathetic glance at Connor.

'See you later, Pigeon!'

Connor looked a little crestfallen when his partner in crime disappeared through the door, but to give the boy some credit he didn't look down once. Darla placed her hands on her hips.

'So, can you come up with a way to fix it or should I call Severus?'

At these words, both Sirius and Connor paled.

'Don't you dare call Snape when I look like this...'

'Mum, really, it's not necessary to call Severus, I know a potion that can fix this...'

Darla turned to eye her only son. 'Do you?'

The boy nodded eagerly. 'It's a simple potion. All I need is to buy some ingredients at Diagon Alley...'

'Like hell I'll use anything concocted by you,' Sirius snarled. 'I'll go to Diagon Alley and prepare the potion myself.'

Connor shrugged.

'If you remember how to brew it and what is the precise quantity of each ingredient, be my guest.'

Sirius paled. Evidently he didn't know, or didn't remember, as much about Potions as Connor did. Darla rolled her eyes.

'We all are going to Diagon Alley, and I don't want to hear another comment about it. Understood?'

'Yay!'

Everyone turned to stare at Harry, thunderstruck. The boy's cheeks reddened a little.

'It's just that I wanted to see it again...'

-

After Black had dressed properly and hidden his clownish hair under a baseball cap, they were ready to go. To Darla's initial surprise, Sirius had given Harry a cap too. It took her a moment to understand that he didn't do so to feel less ridiculous but because he didn't want Harry's scar to drag unwanted attention. She had to give the man some credit, after all.

In spite of herself, Darla felt impressed by Diagon Alley. Many years ago she had visited the darker alter ego of this street, Knockturn Alley, on an assigment for the Master, but this was very different. Dozens and dozens of witches and wizards, all dressed in colourful robes and wearing pointy hats, wandered around the streets, stopping in small groups of twos or threes to examine the shop windows or to chat with their acquaitances. Magnific globes of the moon and self-revolving cauldrons were displayed, barrels with bats wings and unicorn horns, broomsticks and robes... All of this caught Darla's attention as she eyed it all, amazed. She couldn't help noticing, though, that some people stared at them and she guessed they were all a little out of place there, with their normal clothes. She tried her best to look as if she was very used to everything magical and as if nothing could surprise her. She noted that Connor walked with the air of one whom has seen something many times already, whereas Harry observed all in awe. Sirius, on the other hand, walked in long strides with his purpouse clear in mind.

Effectively, Sirius headed to the smelly apothecary's at once and, after Connor had recited to him all the necessary ingredients, he'd entered the shop and left them behind. The three of them waited outside, Darla and Harry examining everything with curiosity, Connor scanning the crowd for a recognizable face.

'Hey, Angel!'

The three of them jumped and turned. Darla idly wondered when she would get used to hearing her son's surname without thinking of his father.

Two boys a little taller and older than Connor were waving their hands at him. Darla blinked, thinking at first that she was seeing double but no: the boys were exactly alike, from their mop of red hair to the countless freckles on their faces. Twins, obviously. Unless wizards have developed clones as well.

Connor's face lit up and he turned to Harry and grabbed him by the arm.

'Those are the Weasley twins, Harry! C'mon, I'll introduce you to them.' Connor looked at her, excitement palpable on his face at the chance of speaking to older, more popular boys. 'Mum, we'll be back in a couple of minutes.'

Darla first shot an eloquent glance at Harry, then a warning look at Connor. The boy frowned a moment, until comprehension shone in his eyes and he shook his head imperceptly. Darla smiled.

'Go, Connor. I'm sure Harry'll be delighted to meet new people.'

Grinning, Connor dragged Harry towards the twins and Darla could hear him saying:

'Hi! Look, this is my friend, Harry.' Darla waited to see whether Connor would mention his surname or not. 'He's entering Hogwarts this year.'

That's my boy.

The twins eyed Harry, but the baseball cap concealed his scar.

'Like Ronniekins,' said one of them.

'Our baby brother,' the other one added, at the boys' look of incomprehension.

'So, which House will you go into?' One of the boys asked Harry. He shrugged.

'Dunno. Which House are you in?'

'The best: Gryffindor. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise, particularly those treacherous Slytherins.'

'Talking about Slytherins...' the other twin intervened, 'we should get those Filibuster's Fireworks before Mum notices...'

'What are you planning to do with them,' Connor asked eagerly. The twins merely exchanged a mysterious look.

'Ah, we can't tell you that. So, what are you doing here? Last minute shopping?'

'Nope,' Harry replied. 'My godfather's hair turned er... turquoise and he's getting the things to put it right again.'

The twins frowned. 'How did it turn turquoise?' both asked in unison. Connor shrugged.

'Dunno. Might have something to do with the Colour-Changing Potion I accidentaly slipped in his shampoo...'

As Connor beamed at the older boys' evident admiration, Darla rolled her eyes.

Boys.

'Are those two yours, dear?'

Darla winced . Standing next to her, also watching the quartet of boys, was a plump, short red-haired woman who was unmistakably the twins' mother. She was carrying many bags and parcels, a very tired expression on her face.

'Oh, no. Just the taller one, the other is a friend of my son,' Darla replied. The woman looked from Connor to Darla, nodding in acknowledgement.

'He does look like you. The red-haired ones are mine, of course. I'm just telling you, so in the case they start bothering your boy, you know who to turn to for help.'

Darla looked at her, puzzled. 'Connor seems to worship them.'

The woman sighed. 'Oh, they're very popular at school, that's for sure. But they're getting in trouble all the time... You wouldn't believe the number of letters I have received from their teachers because of their misbehaviour...'

Darla smiled sympathetically. 'I guess that having two kids to look after at the same time must be hard,' she said, wondering what she would have done had Connor had a double. It was hard enough to take care of him as it was, sharing custody and all, she couldn't even imagine what she would have done with troublemaking twins.

The twins' mother shook her head.

'Believe me, dear, I never had so much trouble with the other five put together...'

Darla's jaw almost fell open in shock.

'The other five?'

'Oh, yes. I've got six boys and a small girl.' The woman cast her a knowing look. 'You just have one, don't you?' Darla nodded, mystified. How did this short woman deal with seven children all at once? Did she have a Maria Von Trapp complex or what? 'The hardest thing is when Christmas draws closer, because I always knit a jumper for each one of them, and knitting eight jumpers at the same time is no walk around the park...'

-

Peace seemed to have returned to Darla's flat. Sirius' fury vanished when he realised that he would need Connor's help to brew the potion that would return his hair to its natural state. The boy, on the other hand, was such in a good mood both for getting back at Sirius and for showing his ability at playing pranks to the Weasley twins, that he had forgotten any resentment he could have felt towards Sirius and was eager to help him. Both of them worked peacefully in the brewing of the potion, even making jokes. Harry just looked relieved that the tension had finally been erased.

Darla, though, was very withdrawn since the visit to Diagon Alley. She had barely spoken a word since they had returned from the apothecary's, instead, she had sat on the couch and watched the three of them deal with the cauldron and the ingredients, her mind miles away from them.

Sirius was such in a good mood after his hair had gone back to normal that he offered to prepare dinner. Admittedly, most nights when they didn't eat takeaways he was the one who cooked, as 'Darla' and 'cooking' were two words that did not match, but this time he had the decency to act as though he really wanted to cook and not like he just did it in order not to die of poisoning. Darla merely shrugged.

'You do that. God knows what can happen if I get anywhere near the kitchen.'

Sirius was puzzled by her unusually apathic state, although he opted not to comment on it. Once dinner was over and the children had sought refuge in Connor's bedroom, leaving Sirius and Darla alone – which was usually quite an awkward business, given their not so nice relationship – he was surprised to hear her inquiring, in an expressionless tone:

'Black, don't you think Connor should be removed from my custody?'

Sirius choked and nearly spluttered the table with Coke.

'What?'

Darla shrugged, without looking at him.

'Well, you've been here for two weeks. You should have been able to figure out by now that I'm far from an ideal mother. Isn't it egotistical for me to keep pretending I can help to raise Connor?'

Sirius stared at her, his jaw falling open for a moment. She was still avoiding his eyes, fixing her gaze on some point mid-air instead. She had tried to sound nonchalant, but her shoulders were sunken and there was a defeated look in her eyes Sirius had never seen before in this strong and powerful woman. No, she was definitely not joking. He bit his lower lip, wondering how he had gotten in this situation and, more importantly, how he would get out.

'Er, Darla... If you don't mind, could I know why are you asking me this?'

Darla placed her elbows on the table, so her face rested on her fists, looking lost in thought.

'I don't know. I guess... I guess because you're the only one here who comes from a more or less normal family, the only one who can answer me with sincerity. See, today – at Diagon Alley, while you were at the apothecary's – I started to talk to Mrs. Weasley –'

Sirius looked up, surprised. 'Weasley?'

She nodded. 'Yeah, that's right. Do you know her?'

He frowned in concentration. 'I don't think so. But I might have met her husband, Arthur – a decent bloke. One of the few decent blokes that remain in the Ministry.' He looked back at Darla. 'So, what's the problem with this Mrs. Weasley?'

'Oh, there wasn't any problem at all, she's a delightful woman. So... motherly. I guess that happens when you raise seven children.'

There was a clattering sound as Sirius nearly dropped his glass.

'Seven! How the hell did she manage to do that?'

For the first time, the flicker of a smile illuminated Darla's face. 'My thought, exactly. Not only did she raise them: she homeshooled them, knits seven sweaters for them every Christmas, is an expert cook and takes care of the house all by herself.' Darla looked shocked. 'I mean, she's like Super Mum or something.'

Sirius shrugged. 'Well, she's got magic to help her... that's something...'

She snorted. 'Magic can't help you much to deal with seven children. Sure, it does the washing up and the cleaning, but taking care of children involves more than that. And I can't see how she dealt with seven, when I can hardly do it with one!'

For the first time since he had set foot in that house, Sirius felt a wave of sympathy for the desperate petite woman sitting across from him. He could very easily relate to her feelings, as he had felt the same about Harry many times before.

'Look, Darla, all parents feel that from time to time. Many times I thought I wasn't the right person to take care of Harry – but in the end, I realised I was the only one who could do so. I know I can't be as good as James or Lily would have been, but they aren't here now. I am the only one left.' Sirius passed a hand through his hair. 'No parent is perfect, Darla, not even Mrs. Weasley with her hand-knitted sweaters and her seven children. We all just do the best we can.'

Darla looked up, a surprised glint in her clear eyes. Sirius could not blame her: he felt rather surprised by his own outburst himself. His insecurities regarding Harry were soemthing he had never confessed to anyone but Remus and Andromeda. It was so odd, talking about such an intimate subject with an almost complete stranger as Darla. However, as the woman dedicated him a faint smile, he thought that perhaps she was the only one who wouldn't laugh at his words.

A moment of silence stretched on, then Darla sighed.

'Thank you, Sirius, but I'm afraid my case is a little different. I mean, look at me.' She pointed at herself and shot him an eloquent look. 'I was never supposed to have a child. I'm not even human. What kind of mother can I be for Connor?' Darla waved her hands to show her irritation. 'I'll never be able to give him anything resembling a normal life. I won't ever be able to take him to school, I won't be able to go to his church wedding if he has one, I can't even cook a decent meal to save my unlife.' Darla shook her head gloomily. 'Every law of nature and reason should have prevented me from becoming a mother. I couldn't be more ill-equipped for the job.'

After her outburst, Darla once more hid her face in her hands. Sirius got the impression she had been bursting to say those things for a very long time. It only increased the oddity of the situation that she had chosen to burst right in front of him, of all people. Apparently Darla was thinking along the same lines. Her head rose, no signs of emotion now on her face except for the slightly sarcastic curving of her lips, as she shrugged and said, trying her best to sound nonchalant, almost managing it:

'Sorry for this, Black. I didn't mean to freak you out with the rant of a monster-mom. I think I've been just too sleep-deprived lately. Won't bother you anymore.'

'I don't think you're a monster.'

Darla, who was rising from her stool, froze. Her eyes widened as one of her eyebrows raised quizzically. Sirius waited a moment, until he realised it was him who had spoken. A short silence followed, during which they both stared at each other, stunned. Sirius didn't know why he had said that. After all, his first day in the flat he'd made fully clear what he thought of Darla's nature. However, Sirius realised that sometime along the way his way of thinking had changed. And then he remembered, through the fog of a distant memory, words pronounced by sweet Andromeda a long time ago, about mothers and children, and love and care being much more important than blood...

Sirius, throwing caution to the winds and putting his own uneasy feelings about Darla aside, made up his mind.

'Look, Darla, I do understand what you feel. Yes, I do, although my situation is different from yours,' he hastened to add, seeing that she had opened her mouth to retort. 'Let me finish, okey? Look, I know what I said when we first met. I know what vampires are. Merlin, at Hogwarts children are taught to kill vampires, we know what they are like. But... but blood is not always the most important thing to consider where a family is concerned. I have a friend who is a werewolf.' Darla opened her mouth again, but Sirius silenced her with a wave of his hand. 'Yeah, not the same, I know. But many people are as afraid of werewolves as they are of vampires, considering them to be equally monstruous. But my friend's one of the kindest, most patient people I've ever met. He's much more human than many who claim to be purebloods.' Sirius realised he was gritting his teeth and tried to relax his jaw. This chat was getting a little personal.

Darla, who had sunk again in her stool, frowned. 'I appreciate your words, Sirius, but I can't see how this relates to...'

'It does, just let me finish. See, I thought you were a monster... but I've been proved wrong. And the person who proved me wrong was Connor himself. I've seen the way he acts around you, Darla. When he tells a joke, he looks at you first to see if you're laughing; when he feels down, he seeks your arms for comfort; when he needs help you're the one he turns to. He looks at you as if you were perfection incarnated...'

'The way every child looks at his mother, Sirius, no matter how faulty she is,' Darla replied softly. He shook his head.

'No, Darla. Not every child.' He hesitated a moment. What was going in his mind was far too personal to share with an almost complete stranger like Darla, with whom he didn't even get along. However, she had been totally honest with him when she'd exposed her innermost fears and worries. She deserved the same honesty from him.

'Not all children think their mothers are perfect. Not all children turn to their mothers when they feel sad, when they are scared, when they have a problem. Not all children can see their mothers as a source of help or comfort. Darla, you have no idea of how rare your bond with Connor is. Not many families share it.' Sirius shook his head, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips. 'Merlin knows mine didn't. See, Darla, my family was very proud to say that there were no half-bloods or half-breeds among our lineage. That we were all fully magical, fully human, absolutely normal. My mother was, I guess, biologically human... but she was the most cold-hearted being I had the misfortune to meet. She had no love for her children, although my brother at least caused her some pride. She lived out of spite, hurting and humiliating all those around her. No one would have thought of seeking her comfort: actually, my brother and I used to avoid her as much as we could. In the end, I couldn't stand her anymore and I ran away from my home at sixteen, hoping I wouldn't have to see her ever again.'

Darla was wide-eyed, surprised at his confession. Sirius, though, felt oddly liberated. It was a relief not to pretend he had had the perfect childhood, the Ingalls-loving family, a relief to talk about it with someone that, no matter whether they could stand each other or not, would not judge him for it. After all, Darla had seen much worse things than an unloving mother.

'Whatever I might have thought of you when we first met, Darla, I can say Connor thinks you're a terrific mother. And who's better to judge but him?'

Darla said nothing for a moment. Sirius could not see the expression on her face, as her eyes were fixed on her lap. Suddenly, he feared he had said too much. After all, who was he to give her advice? They weren't friends, they weren't family, there was no real trust between them. She had every right to feel offended at his, now he realised it, paternalist tone. She was old enough to be his great-great grandmother, after all.

When she looked up, though, all Sirius' fears vanished. Because Darla's eyes shone with an emotion he'd never seen before, not directed at him at least: gratitude.

'Thanks, Sirius.'

She said no more: it wasn't necessary. Silence elapsed, a silence which, oddly enough, wasn't uncomfortable like silences between them usually were.

The silence did not last long, though.

'Got you, Connor!'

Darla and Sirius spun round in time to see how a massive pillow tossed by Harry impacted on the back of Connor's head. The boy slipped and nearly fell on the wooden floor of the corridor as Harry beamed in triumph, which didn't last long. Connor hastened to grab the pillow and throw it back at Harry's face.

'There's a major pillow fight going on, and nobody notified me?' exclaimed Sirius in a mockingly offended tone. Before anybody could stop him, he'd lauched forwards towards the couch, grasped two cushions and threw them with miraculous aim at Connor and Harry.

'Oh, you aren't gonna leave me out of this.'

When they saw Darla grabbing a pillow and getting ready to fire, the three of them ran like hell.

In next Chapter, Connor will finally unveil a startling truth about his family, which will be very hard for him to deal with...