Had this brewing for a while now and finally finished it, so here you go! Sorry for the long wait. Can't promise when the next one will be out, but it's a process. Happy Thanksgiving and happy holidays!

After Kingsley left Grimmauld Place through the Floo Network, and Molly left the stew on the stove to cook for the next few hours, Carina was left alone in the kitchen, but she didn't mind it. She knew Fred and George were getting up to some sort of mischief upstairs, so that gave her some time to think over what Kingsley had told her about her mother before anyone went looking for her. Since the basement was empty, Carina sat at the dining table to collect her thoughts.

She had always assumed her parents had been in an arranged marriage, but she didn't know her mother had been threatened to do it. Of course, she couldn't find herself being surprised at the revelation. Many purebloods of rich, old families were forced into it. Very rarely had Carina ever heard of a marriage from their own agencies.

But one thing did strike her as odd.

She never had anything bad to say about Rabastan, only the others.

If her mother had been open about her dislike of the Lestranges, why was her father excluded from that?

Carina twitched out of her thoughts at the sound of a door opening. She looked toward the stairs, expecting to see one of the house's occupants walking down them, but instead, her eyes zeroed in on a scraggly, unpleasant-looking house elf muttering to himself.

The house elf's eyes caught sight of Carina as he reached the bottom of the steps. "A new person, Kreacher doesn't know her name," he muttered, yet it wasn't particularly quiet. "What she is doing here, Kreacher doesn't know."

The name piqued Carina's interest, and she pulled out the document outlining her ridiculous inheritance. It only took a few seconds for her to find the house-elf listed under the Black property: Kreacher.

Kreacher had intended to return to his den in the boiler room with a Black family heirloom he had been hiding in his arms, but he rounded on Carina when she called out, "Kreacher, come here."

He frowned in confusion as he was compelled to obey the command until he drew closer and realized just how similar the new person looked to his late masters Regulus and Walburga. Similar light eyes, high cheekbones, fair skin, and dark hair. And as she stood from her spot at the table, he noticed she stood like them, like a proud pureblood standing tall. Master Sirius looked and stood like them, too, but he didn't hold the same affection in Kreacher's heart that Walburga and Regulus did.

Before Kreacher could say anything, Carina introduced herself. "My name is Carina Lestrange, and I'm the new owner of the Black Family estate."

"Lestrange," he muttered quietly as he tasted the name on his lips. "Lestrange, not Black, like old Miss Bella, yes, yes." He recalled the news of her birth years ago, the daughter of Rabastan Lestrange, an old friend of Master Regulus. "Mistress Carina has come to rescue Kreacher from the house of blood traitors."

Carina's eyebrows pinched and her eyes narrowed as she listened and looked over the house-elf. Something seemed wrong with him, and he didn't seem to fully comprehend that she could hear him perfectly fine. And while visibly pleased, he didn't act like her other house elves or the house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens for that matter. She was also disappointed to hear his devotion to the "blood traitor" philosophy, so she'd have to tread lightly when it came to gaining his trust and devotion to her opposite beliefs. She refused to order him against the things he had been taught, knowing that would only make him opposed to her as a master.

"Are you alright, Kreacher?" she asked gently.

"Of course, Mistress," Kreacher said at a normal volume. He looked up at her with a smile devoid of life. "How can Kreacher serve his new mistress?"

Her first order of business had to be getting him out of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters without making it seem like either of them were turning their backs on the family townhouse.

"Do you like living here? And be honest."

He eyed her for a moment before answering her question. "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black. This is Kreacher's home, but Kreacher's home has been invaded by blood traitors, Mistress. Perhaps Kreacher could clear the house for Mistress."

She hated to think of how he would go about clearing the house. "No, that's unnecessary, but thank you for the suggestion." His smile and demeanor brightened a fraction at the expression of gratitude. She then chose her next words carefully. "I. . . have need of them."

Kreacher's ears flattened as he tilted his head. "What does Mistress mean? What use could blood traitors have?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," for him not for her, "that's going to have to remain a secret for some time, so I'll need you to trust me in the meantime."

"Of course, Mistress," Kreacher fawned, reaching his hand out. "Kreacher wouldn't dare not place his trust in his masters."

Merlin, that wasn't what she had meant, but she bit her tongue to keep herself from sighing or groaning. Instead, she smiled and said, "Thank you, Kreacher."

"Is there anything Kreacher can do to help?" he asked, eager for new orders, orders from someone he was excited to serve.

"I need you to go to the Lestrange Estate and work there with my other house-elves." At her request, he frowned again and was about to ask why, but she continued before he could. "It isn't permanent, I promise, and you're still tied to this house. But in light of the. . . invasion. . ." Carina wasn't a fan of using his own terminology for the presence of the Order of the Phoenix but assumed he would be more receptive to it. ". . . I think it's best to have you leave the house for the time being." The corners of his eyes drooped, and she realized he was sad, but it was against his nature to argue against an order. Her eyes drifted down to what he had been carrying in his hands: an old leather watch with the Black crest carved into the back. She got another idea, and she knelt in front of him. "But think of this as a way to protect some of the heirlooms."

Kreacher's ears perked up at that, and his grip tightened around the watch. Carina almost smiled. Her hunch was right. He'd taken a family watch to hide it.

"You can take all the family heirlooms with you and protect them at my estate," she assured. "That way, you can make sure no one else can get to them before we have a chance to restore the house."

"Restore the house, Mistress?" Kreacher repeated.

"Do you know why I was given access to the Black Family inheritance?" Carina asked, and he shook his head. "It had been passed to Narcissa; do you remember her?"

He brightened. "Yes, Kreacher remembers Miss Cissy clearly."

She ignored the nickname. "Well, she passed it along to me," Carina explained. "And I think she did so as a way to bring life back to the Black Family line. To restore the family. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Mistress, Kreacher would love to serve the House of Black for years to come."

She gave him a smile. "That's good to hear, but that can't happen until the rising conflict is over, which means we'll need to do things sometimes that we don't like, you understand?" He nodded eagerly. "So, in the meantime, I need you to work at the Lestrange Estate with my other house-elves. You can take as many Black Family heirlooms as you'd like with you and keep them safe there until we can turn our attention back to this place, okay?"

Kreacher bowed his head. "Yes, Mistress. Kreacher will get started right away."

Then on his little legs, he hurried away toward the boiler room where he had stashed away as many things as he could in the small space, and Carina heard the audible pop of apparition. Her shoulders then lost the tension that had built up from the beginning of the conversation.

"You have a lot more patience with him than I do," a voice said.

Carina snapped her head toward the sound and saw Sirius at the top of the stairs looking at her curiously.

She stood and said, "All house elves more or less want the same thing: to happily serve. Some of them just have different motivations or reasons." She brushed down her skirt as he walked down the stairs. "Based on the state of the house, I'd imagine he fell into a deep depression when your brother died which might explain some of his odd behavior."

"Oh, you mean the talking to himself like a nutter?" Sirius asked with a quick nod. "Yeah, he didn't use to do that. But anyway, I should thank you for getting rid of him." Her brow quirked up at his phrasing. "He's always been an unpleasant house elf." He gave her a grin before rounding the corner to go into the kitchen.

Carina frowned as she watched him start digging around the cupboards. She was rather used to knowing some families abused their house elves but considering Sirius's outlook on Kreacher despite Kreacher's clear devotion to the Black Family, she wondered if he'd ever partaken when the rest of his family didn't, likely as a way to get back at the beliefs they shared. Beliefs that Kreacher would've only shared if the few people nice to him had them, as opposed to the one blood traitor who just wanted to run away.

Pulling herself from her deep thoughts, she decided to check out the rest of the house, not having gotten the chance to before being stunned or herded to the basement kitchen, and she left Sirius to his own devices rooting around the cupboards likely looking for a snack despite Molly clearing having stew already cooking on the stove.

As she reached the top of the stairs to the ground floor, she grimaced at the beheaded elf heads on display and turned to go up another flight of stairs. Based on what she had already seen of the ground floor, it had a library and a formal dining room, so she wondered what else the house had to offer. Her eyes drifted from the open door of a bathroom to the open door of a bedroom right next to it. Carina passed it, glancing inside to see Molly and Ginny straightening up the room together, probably to make room for Hermione, and she continued on to the elaborate archway next to the landing overlooking the ground floor.

Walking through the archway, Carina found herself in a drawing room with a dusty tapestry covering an entire wall. It immediately reminded her of the drawing room at Malfoy Manor which had its own tapestry, though that one was better maintained.

She pulled out her wand and walked over to the tapestry, casting a quick cleaning spell on it so she could get a proper look at it, even if it wasn't perfect, but she ended up pulling a face of disgust as she looked it over. It was incredibly detailed and beautifully done, but there were a good number of scorch marks dotting the tree, particularly the faces of Sirius and Andromeda.

Carina didn't know how long she spent looking at the tapestry, but a voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Who spat in your tea?" they asked.

Carina looked to see Tonks leaning on the archway with an amused grin, and Carina straightened up, not having realized she was making a face. "Might as well be everyone on this tree," she answered.

Tonks bounced over. "Can't be everyone. My mum hasn't done anything."

"But she's not technically on the tree anymore." Carina smirked and gestured to where Andromeda had been blasted off.

"S'pose that's true." Tonks pulled out her wand with a broad grin. "Want me to blast you off the tree, too?"

Carina looked warily from her own footnote in the corner of the tree as a descendant of Belvina Black, the daughter of Phineas Nigellus Black, and back to Tonks' wand that was being twirled. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but with the mischievous glint in Tonks' eyes, Carina didn't quite trust her with fire, much like the twins. "I have a feeling any fire you conjure won't be controlled."

Tonks tapped her chin with her wand. "Sounds about right." She put her wand away in her cloak pocket. "So, what's ensnared you about the tapestry?"

Carina crossed her arms under her chest and turned back to the tree. "I've looked at the Malfoy tapestry hundreds of times, and there are a few things I've noticed about this one." Tonks gave her a curious look. "There's far more scorch marks on the family tree of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." Tonks snorted at the pompous title and Carina's mockingly snotty tone. "For a family whose motto is toujours pur, I expected less."

"Tou—what?" Tonks asked.

"Always pure," Carina translated. Even without Narcissa making her learn French as a child, Carina would've been expected to know the translation of the motto, just like every other old pureblood family motto.

"Sounds pretentious." Tonks glared at the family tree but was struck with another curiosity. "What's the Malfoy motto?"

"Sanctimonia vincet semper. Purity will always conquer."

That simply made Tonks even more annoyed, and she folded her arms. "Reckon I shouldn't ask about the Lestrange one."

Carina tilted her head and looked at Tonks with a meaningful expression. "Oddly enough, it has nothing to do with purity. Corvus oculum corvi non eruit. A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow."

"Well, at least one of the families gave a rat's arse about loyalty."

Carina chuckled. "Ah, yes, Hufflepuffs and their loyalty."

Tonks beamed as she perked up. Ever a proud Hufflepuff. "I remember the Diggory kid from school. Good thing, I was getting sad about the lack of badger representation in a sea of lions. It's just me and Elphias."

While Carina had remembered Tonks being in Hufflepuff as Narcissa had mentioned it before when talking about Andromeda, she had forgotten that they weren't that far apart in age. "Right," she mused, "you were in Charlie's year, so a sixth year when we were sorted."

"Feels like Hogwarts was ages ago," Tonks said, recalling her days filled with getting into trouble with her friends. "The little first year my friend Penny was showing around is going into his seventh year, and his friend happens to be my cousin or something who decided to join the Order and named him as a potential candidate to join as well." After the long tangent, Tonks shook her head. "Giving me a right headache."

Footsteps caught their attention and they watched as Remus peeked his head into the room. Bashfully smiling as he realized he caught their gazes without meaning to, he asked, "Either of you wouldn't happen to know where Pad—er, Sirius ran off to, would you?"

"He was down in the kitchen looking for something last I noticed," Carina said. "But if he's not still there, I have no idea."

"Of course he was," he muttered with a sigh. "Thank you, and please don't tell Molly." Then Remus ran off.

Carina's lips gave a little shrug as she turned to Tonks. "Why can't we tell Molly?"

"Sirius is really bored here most of the time, so he munches on something every chance he gets," Tonks explained. "But it annoys Molly since that means he doesn't eat dinner half the time." She then stared at the archway that Remus had just been in. "He's quite handsome, isn't he?"

That remark caught Carina by surprise, and Tonks seemed to then realize what she had blurted since her hair shifted from a bright, bubblegum pink to a more subdued, pastel pink as her cheeks heated up.

"I should go," Tonks said before Carina could get the chance to ask about it. "I've got, erm, paperwork." But as she hurried out of the room, her foot on a leg of the couch, and she yelped, quickly righted herself, and continued on her way.

All Carina could think was how odd the entire group seemed to be.

Two days later, after her shift at St. Mungo's, Carina decided to pay a visit to Grimmauld Place again and found herself in the library reading a most interesting book called Ars Moriendi from 1415 about the procedures of a good death. Of course, she would be enjoying it more if Fred wasn't trying so hard to get her attention as if cuddling on the couch wasn't enough.

"Rinaaaaaaaaaa," Fred dragged out.

Nearby, Sirius glanced at them in amusement in his search for his own book to read.

Carina didn't look up from the text and replied, "Freeeeeeed," in the same annoying town as him.

He pouted as he shifted his arms around her. "We hardly see each other at school, and when we're finally together, you ignore me for a book."

"It's a fascinating book." She turned the page and glanced up at him. "And I thought George said you two were going to work on a new product?"

"Breaks are a thing."

She fully looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "The only time you take a break is when you desire to be a nuisance."

His jaw dropped at the insult. "I resent that."

She chuckled and focused back on the book. "And maybe we'd see more of each other at school if Lee weren't a chicken with Sylvia and didn't want to avoid her."

"We can't all get the girl, love."

As Carina continued reading the book again, a loud noise pulled her from her focus, causing her to jump. A loud shrieking voice filled the house.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Carina asked.

Sirius, from his place still searching the bookshelves, answered, "Mother's portrait. Make too loud of a noise and she'll awaken like a banshee spouting off any deplorable thing you can imagine. Her favorites are the depravity of Muggle-borns."

Carina grimaced in disgust. "Why hasn't the portrait been taken down?"

"Mother used a Permanent Sticking Charm, so no one can ever get rid of it until the charm where's off, if that'll ever happen." Sirius ran his finger over the spine of a book, reading the title.

Fred shrugged and shifted under Carina's legs that were draped over his lap. "Not sure why you don't just cut it down," he said.

Sirius pulled out the book he had been looking at, tucked it under his arm, and turned to the two teenagers. "We've tried. Nothing gets rid of a Permanent Sticking Charm, unfortunately."

"I meant the wall, not the back of the portrait," Fred said.

Sirius's expression twisted up. "What?"

"Slice out a chunk of the wall, is what he's saying," Carina explained, turning another page in her book.

"There'll be a big hole," Fred added, "but that can be covered and fixed easier than dealing with a Permanent Sticking Charm."

Sirius's mouth hung open, almost offended at the suggestion. "Why haven't I thought of that?"

Carina looked up. "Because it's still your childhood home," she said. "It makes sense that you wouldn't want to cause serious damage to any part of it."

"Then once it's down, see if the whole thing can be burned." Fred grinned. "Or bury it. Or toss it in a lake."

"I have a lake you can borrow," Carina offered off-handedly.

Sirius thought over the suggestion, nibbling on his lip. "Hm, I wonder if it'll work. Thanks." He quickly put the book back on the shelf and hurried from the room to where the screaming portrait of Walburga Black hung.

"Anytime!" Fred called out. Any excuse for causing destruction. Then he turned back to Carina who had intently focused on her book once again. "Rinaaaaaaaaa."

Carina used the attached ribbon to bookmark her place, closed the book, then focused on Fred. "Yes?"

He gave her an exaggerated pout and said, "Finally."

"You're adorable." She set her forehead against his. "Did you want something?"

"Besides your attention? Hm, not sure." Fred tightened his hold on her and gave her a cheeky grin. "But we are alone now."

"Yes, alone in a library in a house filled with people."

"What else is new?"

Carina reached up her hand to his cheek and said, "Again, you're adorable." Then she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, tasting a hint of mint chocolate from what might've been from their latest product. Sometimes she hated that they tested them on themselves, but other times, it wasn't so bad.

Fred's hands curled against the back of her blouse as he returned the kiss, relishing in the feeling of her soft lips against his until the portrait finally stopped screeching. He pulled back a little and murmured, "About time. It was kind of killing the mood."

She quietly giggled. "Just a smidge." She went to kiss him again when they heard voices coming their way.

"You just arrived and the first thing you want to do is see the library?" one of the voices asked incredulously. Carina and Fred immediately pinpointed the voice as belonging to Ron.

Fred groaned at the sound of his brother's voice and pulled away from the almost kiss but didn't extract his arms from around her. Carina gave him an amused smile at his outward frustration and opened her book up again as Ron and Hermione entered the room.

Hermione was replying to Ron as she walked in. "Because Ronald, there's probably even rarer books here than at Hogwarts." It only took her a few steps to notice that the two weren't alone in the Black's library, and Hermione grinned at the sight of them. "Carina!"

Carina gave her a polite smile as she looked up from the book. Everyone wanted to stop her from reading, it seemed. "Hello, Hermione. It's good to see you."

"Are you staying here as well?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm only visiting," Carina explained. "I'll be popping in and out occasionally when I get the chance."

Ron was just as annoyed as his older brother. "Can you hurry and pick a book, so I can give you a tour of the rest of the house?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but quickly got distracted by the shelves covering the walls from floor to ceiling, and Ron, despite being irritated at Hermione's chosen activity, followed her around like a lost puppy, mentioning everything he could about the house in order to try and find something that might pique her interest more than books. Like that was ever going to happen.

Fred set his chin on Carina's shoulder and whispered, "I think Weasley men seem to be attracted to bookworms, don't you agree, love?"

That made Carina giggle again, and her face scrunched up in an effort to keep it quiet. She looked from under her lashes to watch for a few moments as Ron couldn't take his eyes of Hermione and seemed to be as persistent in getting under her skin as Fred did with her.

She whispered back, "The best matches for bookworms are the ones who can show us the real world is just as interesting."

Fred seemed to like her reply since he kissed her shoulder and relaxed against her, not bothering her again as she read. At least, for a few minutes.

Later that day, Carina looked through the drawing room again, though she wasn't there to look at the tapestry as she had a few days prior. It was one of the rooms that still needed cleaning after years of neglect, but she didn't mind. There was an odd beauty in the way things aged. She was just sure not to open anything and to be careful with what she touched. She didn't need to set something off.

Soon after she found herself lost in the knickknacks, Sirius entered, moving to rifle through some things in a chest of drawers.

She immediately asked, "How'd getting rid of the portrait go? Still need a lake to throw it in?"

Sirius chuckled as he set a few old papers down. "No, burning worked. Ginny and the twins had a lot of fun with that." He looked over at Carina as she nodded and went to open the hutch in the corner. "You remind me a lot of, well, me when I was younger." She paused to look back at him as he continued to speak. "I reckon it's a pureblood blood traitor thing."

Carina gave him a considering look. "What is?" she asked.

"The way you flippantly say rich kid things, passing them off as a joke," Sirius explained, "and always having a sharp retort in your pocket to hide your true feelings. Pretending to be uncaring yet being the one who cares the most." He set down the papers he had intended to go through, standing tall. "If I'd had a daughter, I bet she'd be a lot like you."

"It's not too late. You're, what, mid-thirties? You're still young and handsome."

Sirius mock gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Why, Miss Lestrange, what would Frederick think?"

She quirked an eyebrow. Long had she grown used to jokesters and their dramatics. "That you're too old for my taste."

He settled with an easy, earnest grin. "In any case, commitment was never something I was drawn to. Only to my friends."

Carina, seeing the faraway look in his eyes of better days, recalled something. And she moved to bring it up before he left the room. "Speaking of, I've heard Remus call you 'Padfoot' and you call him 'Moony.'"

"Yes, and?" Sirius asked, not sure where she was going with it. "They're old nicknames."

"Pettigrew wouldn't have happened to be 'Wormtail' with James as 'Prongs,' now, would they?" she wondered innocently.

Sirius looked at her skeptically. "How do you know that?"

Carina shrugged. "Well, for one, I heard You-Know-Who call one of his followers Wormtail, and when I mentioned that to Dumbledore, he said it was Pettigrew. Second, that would leave only one friend and nickname missing." She smiled. "Prongs."

"Are you going to spill it or am I going to have to jinx you and tell Fred that no, I definitely have no idea why his girlfriend is sprouting snakes instead of hair?"

She did her best to keep a straight face as she recited, "'Messieurs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map.'"

Sirius beamed and his eyes lit up. It was the happiest she'd seen of him since they'd met. He'd shown plenty of amusement and chuckles but no outright joy or happiness until that moment.

"The map fell into your hands?" he said. "Never would have guessed."

Carina shook her head. "It didn't. Fred and George nicked it from Filch's office first year. They showed it to me in second year."

Sirius snorted and waved his hand. "Of course they did. Have they worked out who made the map yet?"

"Doubt it," she said. "They would've told me excitedly about it already. I only recently started putting together the pieces myself. I doubt they care much. Or maybe they haven't paid much attention to how you and Remus interact."

"Were they the ones who gave it to Harry or did he find it somewhere else?" Sirius asked.

"They gave it to him his third year because he wasn't allowed to go to Hogsmeade," Carina explained. "We have all the secret passages memorized, so it wasn't needed much anymore, and they felt he needed it more."

Sirius gave her a gentle, grateful smile. "Thank you for passing it along to him. I'm glad he has one relic from us."

"You should be thanking the twins." She folded her hands in front of her with a partial, nonchalant shrug. "I was skeptical of giving it to a third year during the height of a demented mass murderer roaming the grounds out to get him."

That earned a belly laugh. "I would've liked to see your reaction to learning I wasn't such a man."

"Wasn't surprised," she said, and he gave her a disbelieving look. She didn't understand why it was so hard to believe. "What? Everything I had learned about you from Narcissa and Lucius was about you being a blood traitor, disowned, disinherited, a Gryffindor, and friends with Potter." He chuckled at her attempted impression of Lucius' distaste. Her expression softened. "I didn't quite know you'd been betrayed and framed, but it also didn't make sense for it all to be a years-long con just to betray your friends."

"What if I had been offered the fortune and a place back in the family?" he asked.

"You were the heir before you left the family. You could have apologized and made amends and acted the part until you came of age. If you were in it for the money, you would have stayed, like me."

Sirius hummed, looking at the tapestry as he thought over her words. After some brief thought, he turned back to her. "Perhaps that makes you the smart one. Putting on one face to the world to get what you need without a fuss, then showing your true face to the ones who matter."

"I don't recommend it," Carina said with a sigh. "It's utterly exhausting. Part of me wishes I could run free now, but. . ." She trailed off, looking around the room during the silence that spread between them. Then she met his gaze. "I am sorry everything from the House of Black has been given to me. I'd much rather it be with someone who's actually a Black. Someone it might mean something to."

He gave her a sad smile. "I reckon I was more of a Potter really."

"Pardon?" Carina's head tilted.

"James was more than a friend," Sirius explained, his voice soft as he reminisced. "He was like a brother to me. When I left home, the Potters took me in. James had grown up with some of the pureblood family nonsense as well, so he understood me better than anyone. I'm glad Harry didn't have to be subjected to any of it."

Carina nodded and looked down. "He's a good kid. . ." She bit her lip and looked up. "When. . . when the upcoming war is over, I want to give the property back to you. With the current state of affairs, it should probably stay with me in case they have eyes in the Ministry, but once it's all said and done—"

"No, not me," Sirius cut her off. "Harry. Sign it over to Harry. He deserves a family home. If you sign it over to me, he'll be the one it's willed to."

She could hear something in his voice that didn't sound right. Resolution and despair. An odd mix unless—

"You make it sound as though you don't expect to see him take it."

Sirius, with no semblance of trepidation or fear in his expression, answered, "It's a war, Carina. Not everyone lives through wars. And I'd sooner die before I let anyone else, especially Harry. It's not much, but it's the least I could do to make it up to James and Lily for not being there when they needed me most."

"I'm sure they wouldn't blame you," she tried.

"I know," he said, but it didn't matter. "But I do. I was going to be their secret keeper, but I convinced James it should be Peter instead because I knew they'd come after me." Angry tears flooded his eyes but they didn't fall as he bit his lip and continued talking. "We never imagined he'd go to them. If I'd stayed as their secret keeper, James and Lily would still be alive, and Harry wouldn't have had to grow up without his parents. Then I was thrown into Azkaban, so I couldn't even look after my godson."

Carina didn't know what to say or how to react. She stood there frozen at his words, at his side of a story most of her generation of wizards had grown up hearing.

Sirius took in a sharp breath, gesturing roughly at their surroundings. "Now, I'm stuck in the house I abandoned, useless to anyone. So, if the only thing I can do is give Harry a home and give my life for his, then I will. And none of you will stop me."

His legs moved swiftly, carrying him from the room in a flurry of emotions, leaving Carina there speechless and concerned for the war to come.