Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine by any stretch of the imagination…
Updated: Tuesday 11th April 2006
Chapter Fifteen: Lest We Forget.
Six Slytherins had been expelled after the 'attack'. An extremist group of purebloods from several of wizarding society's poorest, but darkest, families had seemingly acted alone in staging the 'raid'. While bigoted aristocrats could buy their way into the pompous Dark Lord's inner circle, the social under-classes had to work much harder. The students involved had defied both the law and their parents' wishes in taking an initiative their arrogant and foolishly inexperienced minds believed the Dark Lord was too cautious to take. They believed that, with the element of surprise, they would be victorious in their goal, and that their 'master' would reward them.
Positioned on the far end of Hogsmeade, off the main street, Madam Puddifoot's was tactically a most advantageous target. With most of the Aurors stationed in the vicinity of the more popular retailers and the 'designated congregation points', the rogue group very nearly came close to achieving their objective. One thing they didn't count on, however, was that the students within the quaint teahouse would be capable of mounting a defence, and that the delay and noise the disruption of flying curses caused was enough to draw the attention of law enforcement. In the end, they had no option but to surrender their wands, and while their unblemished forearms and age granted a reasonable doubt to their accountability, effectively saving them from a term in Azkaban, their noted disregard for school rules was adequate grounds for their dismissal.
Estella, meanwhile, was not to discover the nature of this 'threat' for quite some time. Disapparated to the unplottable safety of her parents' home, Estella was livid that she had once again been taken out of the equation by an over-protective adult. Now she was an Order member with actual battle experience she felt like doing more than just breaking a goblet of Wolfsbane. Despite his werewolf strength, Remus was having a spectacularly difficult time keeping a hold of the erratic child as he successfully Apparated them into the front hallway of their London home.
"Estella! Estella, calm down!" Remus hissed, struggling for breath as adrenalin rushed through is veins. "Were you trying to get us splinched?"
Before Estella could reply, Sirius appeared at the top of the stairs, his wand drawn and ready.
"Remus!" he exclaimed, lowering his hand in shock. "You really should let a man know you're coming ahead of time… Estella?"
Sirius had, by the time he'd finished his sentence, reached the bottom of the stairs and spotted his daughter. Looking from his friend, to his daughter in confusion, Sirius was suddenly gripped with fear. "Where's Harry?" he asked hesitantly, as though he really did not want to know the answer.
"HE LEFT HIM THERE!" Estella shouted, pulling herself out of Remus' lax grip and rounding on him in anger. "Hogsmeade is under attack and the first thing you can think about is getting me out!"
"Why didn't you use your Portkey?" Sirius asked distractedly, the panic rising. "Why wasn't Harry with you?" then, as though he were spotting his friend for the first time, he blinked. "And Remus, what were you doing in Hogsmeade?"
A brief, annotated explanation of the day's events followed as Sirius concerned himself with summoning his broom and make-shift Auror Field Kit, preparing to leave. When Estella had refused to stay behind, threatening instead to activate one of the emergency Portkeys that she knew led to the cellar of Honeydukes, the two men had stopped in their tracks.
"Go, Remus," Sirius nodded to his friend to go ahead, indicating that he would take care of things. Turning his attention back to his daughter once his friend had Disapparated, he sighed. "This is not negotiable, Estella!" he said exasperatedly, torn between securing his daughter's well being and rushing blindly to Harry's aid. Shaking her forcefully, his worry for Harry making him impatient, he looked at her pleadingly. "Stay here!"
"No! I can help!" Estella protested, worming her way out of her father's grip. "Stop treating me like a child!"
"Then stop acting like one and do as you're told!" Sirius snapped back, his frustration at her non-compliance turning into anger as his mind entertained images of Harry being caught, tortured, or worse. Quietly, he hissed, "every moment you keep me here arguing with you is another moment Harry could be in danger!"
"Which is why you have to stop being so bloody stubborn and let me come!" Estella raised her chin defiantly, ignoring all laws pertaining to under-aged magic by drawing her wand and summoning her home supply of potions. Catching the kit deftly as it flew towards her from the kitchen and shrinking it, she then strode purposefully towards the Portkey she had threatened to use. Turning her back on her father, Estella had felt the effects of the jinx before her ears had even registered the traitorous words leaving her father's lips.
"Petrificus Totalus," Sirius whispered brokenly, wincing as his daughter's body dropped like a stone under the effects of the Body-Binding Spell. Side-stepping her prone form, he grabbed the innocent-looking Muggle magazine. "I'm sorry. We'll be back soon, I swear."
As relieved as Estella was that the disruption in Hogsmeade had not even been organised by actual Death Eaters, she could not yet bring herself to forgive her father for his actions just prior to his departure. The last person to have placed her in a Body Bind had been Lucius Malfoy, when he had taken her unconscious form to the graveyard for Voldemort's resurrection. The memories, then, of being completely helpless whilst surrounded by Death Eaters played at her mind as she lay in the empty house not knowing what was happening to the other members of her family.
The implication that they all could be in battle, dying, whilst she was powerless to do anything filled her with a frustration unlike anything she had ever felt before. As the minutes ticked by and her imagination conjured more and more outlandish scenarios, the fear for her family turned into sheer panic when she realised she was left completely vulnerable. Though she knew that her godfather would favour death over disclosing the location of the house he was Secret Keeper for, Estella could not remember what happened to a Fidelius Charm once its Secret Keeper was dead.
Picturing Hogsmeade razed to the ground, Death Eaters triumphant as they stood over the bodies of her family and friends, Estella imagined, rather than felt, the wards around her crumbling down. When then, the distinct 'pop' of Apparation reached her ears, she was completely frantic. Her eyes, frozen open and filled with tears she could not shed could were no longer able to discern shape from shadow. Unable to scream, Estella's breathing became erratic and choked as the confines of the Body-Bind restricted the movement in her chest. Fighting the light-headedness and dizziness that came from the onset of a panic attack, she was vaguely aware of the intruder's voice.
"Finite Incantatem!" said the voice, out of breath.
Distracted by the tingly feeling that signified the return of mobility to her limbs, Estella's mind was slow in recognising the owner of the voice. When she felt the person fall to their knees beside her, all capabilities of rational thought left her and she began to scream.
Pulling the disorientated, struggling girl into his embrace, Remus rocked her like an infant, his own senses overwhelmed by the scent of fear radiating from his beloved godchild and spurring him into action.
"Shhh… shhhh… Estella, it's me. It's Moony. It's all right!" he murmured into her ear, gratified when her muffled cries of terror turned into hysterical sobs. In his arms, he could feel the child relax in recognition and burrow her head into the folds of his robes. Remus smiled at the old familiar action. The act of 'disappearing into his robes' was something his godchild had attempted to do ever since she was an infant. The appearance that she was seemingly getting comfort from his scent had been what prompted him to start calling her his 'cub' all those years ago.
Leaning down and burying his face in her hair, Remus silently willed the lingering traces of fear to dissipate.
"Shhh, it's okay. It was just a couple of students. I came back as soon as I could! Oh Merlin, Estella, he was only doing what he thought was best… why must you be so stubborn?"
The effects of the Body-Bind – specifically, the memories it raised - far outweighed her earlier anger. Grasping blindly at her godfather's robes, Estella shook uncontrollably as she struggled to find comfort in the arms she had once found so assuring.
Another 'pop' echoed through the hallway.
"Sirius! Sirius, she's hysterical!" Remus looked up at the man in question as he appeared in the hallway, a tense, confused Harry at his side.
Swearing colourfully at his own stupidity and running a hand though his hair, Sirius looked around desperately for an answer. Squatting down to his daughter's level, he reached out hesitantly. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry!" he said brokenly, not quite knowing why a simple Body-Bind had distraught his daughter so, but knowing that her condition was his fault.
In a surprising moment of clarity, Estella stiffened in her godfather's arms and turned to face her father. "Stay. Away. From. Me." she said in an icy tone, punctuating each word as she glared at her father with a betrayed look on her face. Then, spotting Harry in her peripheral vision, she visibly relaxed. Pulling herself up to her feet, swatting her father's hands away as he tried to help her, she brushed past the remorseful man coldly and focused her attentions on Harry.
"Thank goodness, you're all right!" she said, relieved, as she threw her arms around the bewildered boy, hugging him tightly. "What happened?"
After re-assuring herself of Harry's physical well-being, Estella once again clung to her godfather. The conversation now moving to the more comfortable environment of their sitting room, Remus held the exhausted girl close as she curled up against him on the couch, dozing slightly whilst the others talked. Sitting across from them on an armchair, Sirius' eyes barely left his daughter, and as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly, it looked as though he were about to jump out of his skin at a moment's notice.
"She'll come around, Padfoot," Remus whispered quietly, knowing from the steady breathing of the girl leaning against him that she was not of mind to hear them. "She knows, as well as I do that you were only trying to keep her safe."
"I should have just let her come," Sirius sighed. "She's already proven herself capable, and besides, it was only some stupid kids…"
"Don't give in to her, Sirius!" said Remus sharply. "Remember what Severus told you. She's not invincible. What if it had been a real attack and you had allowed her to have her way? You would never have forgiven yourself if anything had happened. None of us could have anticipated how she would have reacted to being forced to stay behind. You mustn't beat yourself up about it."
"I'm her father, I should have known!" said Sirius dejectedly. "She was terrified because of something I did! Even if she can bring herself to forgive me… I don't know if I can forgive myself!"
Harry, who had been watching this exchange quietly from a rocker opposite his godfather, spoke up. "Remus is right, Sirius," he said. "You were acting on the spur of the moment. There wasn't time to consider other options. It was just like in first year when we had to Body-Bind Neville so he wouldn't tell McGonagall we were setting out to save the stone. We all felt awful doing it, but if we hadn't, McGonagall would have secured us in the Tower and Quirrel would have gotten the stone. She's probably just angry you left her behind at all –"
Remus nodded. "It was the lesser of two evils," he said, cutting Harry off. "I know it doesn't seem that way given that the events in Hogsmeade were a false alarm, but if it's any consolation, I don't know if I would have acted any differently, had it been me."
"Thanks, Moony," Sirius exhaled loudly. Noticing Harry watching his sleeping daughter with a comprehensive look on his face, he narrowed his eyes. "Harry?"
"I - I think I know why she reacted the way she did." Harry said quietly, his eyes not leaving the peacefully slumbering form of the girl in question. Taking a deep breath, he looked his godfather in the eye. "I think Malfoy had her in a Body Bind at the grave yard."
Sirius paled, and Remus unconsciously tightened his grip on the girl in his arms. Spotting their reaction, Harry scrambled for resolve.
"No, I mean, that's why this isn't your fault, Sirius!" he said unconvincingly. "She reacted this way because of something Malfoy did, not you! Like Remus said, she knows you were only protecting her and would never do anything to hurt her… so she'll come around."
"I hope so," Sirius sighed as he looked at his daughter curled up against his childhood friend. Though he hardly felt as though he deserved it right now, a part of him silently wished that it could be him comforting her.
When Estella awoke an indeterminable period of time later, they were all still in the lounge room discussing the week's events. Her consciousness gone unnoticed by all except her godfather, who silently stroked the hair on her head in acknowledgement, Estella followed her godfather's lead and listened to the discussion quietly.
"Well, I know it can't be much fun when it hurts, but you remember what Dumbledore said at the meeting; it's not anything to really worry about." said Sirius, and Estella was quick to realise from Harry's body language that they were in the midst of discussing his scar. Her father continued. "It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," said Harry, rubbing said mark in consideration. "I guess he was feeling rather ticked off that the children of some of his followers decided to draw attention to themselves by staging an unauthorised attack. How on earth did he find out so quickly?"
"No doubt he has spies in Hogsmeade," Sirius grimaced. Gesturing towards Harry's scar, he continued, "and I am sorry to say that now he's back it's bound to hurt more often."
Harry thought this over for a moment. "But it hurt that time in detention… when… when Umbridge was touching me!" his eyes flew open. "Do you suppose…"
"I doubt it," said Sirius. Shifting slightly from where she was leaning against her godfather, so that she could hear better, Estella noted absently that the body she was cushioned against had stiffened slightly at the mention of the vile Ministry woman. The conversing occupants of the room still unaware of her being awake, she listened as her father continued. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater-"
"She's foul enough to be one," said Harry darkly. Estella, meanwhile, was thinking of how well her father had also professed to know Peter Pettigrew, but refrained from making a comment.
"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," said Sirius with a wry smile. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though – you should hear Remus talk about her."
"You know her, Remus?" asked Harry quickly, and Estella found herself looking up at her godfather in question. They were both well aware of the woman's opinions of half-breeds.
"No," said Remus, cutting off any reaction Harry or Sirius might have had to noticing Estella was now awake. "But she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for me to get a job in the Wizarding world…"
"That was her!" Estella sat upright, her face wearing an indignant scowl. "What's she got against werewolves?"
"Scared of them, I expect," said Sirius softly, smiling at his daughter's indignation. It was most endearing – when it wasn't directed towards him, of course. "Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose."
Harry laughed, but Estella refused to acknowledge the joke. As though remembering that she was supposed to be mad at her father, she frowned and glared at him. "Remus is not a part-human!" she said coolly.
"I know that!" said Sirius exasperatedly. "I didn't mean it that way… Estella, where are you going?"
Halfway through her father's attempt at reconciliation, Estella had risen from the couch and made to leave the room. Turning on her heel as she heard her father calling her back, she faced the occupants of the room and shook with barely-contained emotion.
"Uncle Remus, Harry…" she began politely, ignoring her father's presence entirely. "Please excuse me, but I do not feel like having company at the present time." Levelling her eyes at her father, her voice took on an accusatory tone. "I'll be in my room should another battle come up and you need to Stun me before throwing yourself into the frontline."
Without showing a flicker of recognition at her audience's flabbergasted looks, she spun and left the room, bound for the staircase. In her wake, the three males exchanged bewildered looks. "She's never going to let me forget it, is she?" Sirius cradled his head in his hands, all of them realising then that it was more than just the memories of Malfoy that had resulted in Estella's indignation at being left behind.
"It appears we have to accept the fact that she's growing up." Remus ran a weary hand over his face. "We cannot protect her forever."
"She's not even fourteen yet!" Sirius moaned. "I don't remember us having to grow up this fast!"
"Did Azkaban pickle your memory, Padfoot?" Remus quirked a brow. "We were only fifteen ourselves when Voldemort attacked Hogsmeade for the first time. I dare say we all grew up pretty quick after that!"
"But that… but that was different!" said Sirius.
"I don't like it any more than you do," Remus shook his head, smiling sadly at the look of reluctant comprehension on the face of the father before him. Both Estella and Harry were closer to being young adults than small children, and there was not point in denying it.
"It feels like twelve years in Azkaban never passed," said Sirius woefully. "Don't get me wrong, each day in that place dragged on forever… but the idea of time passing on the outside…"
"You expected to come out and find nothing had changed?" asked Remus quietly, picking up the thread when he noticed his friend's voice trail off.
"Yes… I mean, no –I knew everyone was getting older… everything was changing…" Sirius scrubbed at his face in frustration. "I just don't know… how do I… what do I…"
"Don't beat yourself up, Sirius," said Harry imploringly, looking slightly uncomfortable at the sight of his godfather's display of despondency. "You're doing loads better than the Dursleys, and you actually treat us like teenagers, unlike Mrs Weasley. So don't listen to Estella – she was just having a 'Snape moment'."
Unable to stop himself, Sirius barked out a laugh. "Merlin, don't let her hear you talking like that." Exchanging a mischievous look with his marauding friend, he cried mockingly. "We've failed, Moony! His influence is still polluting her mind! Oh, woe!"
Marvelling at his friend's sudden shift in mood, Remus shook his head in mirth. "Just as well, my friend… just as well…"
"Well," Sirius said, rising to his feet decisively. There was no need to dwell on Severus' influence being a good thing to his daughter. "Let's knock up some nosh, see if we might draw my progeny out of her 'dungeon'."
"I know just the thing!" said Remus, drawing his wand and bolting off towards the kitchen, no doubt to make a start on some dish that involved chocolate. Rolling their eyes at Remus' enthusiasm, Harry and Sirius shared a look before following.
Estella, however, didn't come down for dinner, even when Remus directed the aroma of his infamous chocolate pudding to waft into her room as it baked in the oven.
"She got a stash happening up there?" Sirius frowned, looking up at the ceiling in concern as they sat at the kitchen table, piles of empty dishes signally the end of an over-indulgent meal. Anything was better than staring painfully at his daughter's empty chair.
"She had…" Remus cast them a guilty look. "I was going to replace it before she came home for Christmas!"
"You and your cravings, Moony!" smirked Sirius. "You are worse than a pregnant woman!" Spotting the intrigued look on Harry's face, he elaborated. "Harry, your mother had a neurotic fixation for Cockroach Clusters like you wouldn't believe! We used to tease Prongs that he'd end up with a giant bug for a son…"
Remus chuckled in reminiscence. "We were lucky Lily and Selina weren't both pregnant at the same time! I never though it was possible for a woman to ingest that much Pumpkin Juice… it's a wonder Estella didn't come out orange!"
Time passed by, unnoticed, as the two Marauders indulged Harry with stories of his parents. Though she wasn't mentioned directly, it was silently understood that each of the three males in the room were inwardly focused on the lonely girl upstairs and what she was thinking. Hours later, when they were heading to bed for the night, Sirius checked in on his daughter to find her sleeping peacefully. Feeling a stab of regret for not resolving things with her before turning in, Sirius bemoaned the fact that both Harry and Estella were due to return to Hogwarts the following morning and as he closed his daughter's bedroom door behind him, he vowed to not let her leave until they had made their peace.
Estella awoke, refreshed from the measure of Dreamless Sleep Potion she had dosed herself with shortly after retiring to her room. She couldn't remember the last time she had relied on a potion-induced sleep, but she knew that if she stayed awake, she'd reach conclusions she didn't want to reach; likewise if she fell asleep again by herself, the dreams would come. Her mind was too alive with activity for her to attempt to clear her thoughts, and so the potion was the easiest choice.
With any luck, she'd wake up in her bed back at the school, and she could throw herself into her social activities and schoolwork and push the memories of what her father had done to the back of her mind. Waking instead, to find herself still in her room, the darkness concealing even the shadows telling her that it was still the dead of night, Estella flopped back on her pillows. Reading the time on her wristwatch – 2:37a.m. – she knew trying to sleep again that night was fruitless. With the emotion-induced doze she'd had on the couch after her family had returned from Hogsmeade, and the eight hours solid sleep that the potion had assured her, she was now wide awake.
And hungry.
"Bollocks!" Estella swore, throwing off her blankets and flinching as her bare feet hit the cool, draughty floorboards. Not only was she hungry, but she could distinctly smell the remnants of her godfather's delectable dessert permeating in the air. Her stomach growled in protest. "They'd better have left me some…"
Creeping out into the hallway, Estella was soundless as she made her way to the landing. Nimble feet artfully dodged the creaking floorboards and she concentrated on blending into the shadows. Sidling past her father's door, Estella could distinctly hear the sound of disturbed sleep. Guilt overwhelmed her when she realised that her father probably hadn't had the option of a potion and was instead, set to endure a restless night's sleep.
Making a decision, Estella drew her wand from a pocket of her dressing gown and pointed its tip in the direction of Harry and her godfather's rooms each in turn. Muttering a silencing charm – for she had, by now, ascertained that the monitoring of under-aged magic was largely a bluff by the Ministry since she'd not received warning for using the Summoning Charm earlier – she cracked her father's door ajar slightly and tiptoed down the stairs.
When next Sirius woke from yet another troubled dream, it was to the sound of soft notes tickling his ears. Echoes of a memory filtered into conscious thought as he shook the remnants of sleep from his mind. The long-forgotten tune chorused a triumphant song in his heart when he realised that there was another piece of his past that the Dementors didn't take aware from him entirely.
"Selina," he murmured sleepily, smiling softly to himself. When he realised that the sound was not just a lingering manifestation from the land between sleep and wake, he bolted upright.
Scratching at his scalp in confusion, rendering his hair, already mussed from sleep into an even bigger mess, Sirius tried to grasp onto reality. His mind catching up with the events of the day previously, he exhaled softly when he remembered that his daughter was making an unscheduled visit and it was likely her playing. Absently trying to recall the last time he had heard his daughter play, Sirius frowned at the clock and reached for a shirt. Pulling the soft, worn Muggle cotton over his head as he blindly toed on his slippers, Sirius staggered sleepily across the room and headed for the door.
Mussing his hair again as he shuffled into the lounge room, he stood at a stand-still when his eyes caught sight of his daughter's profile behind the piano. From where he stood in the doorway, behind the oblivious child, the resemblance to her mother was uncanny. Sirius had to steady himself against the wooden doorframe as the sight stirred recollections in his mind. The instance of her mother whittling away the small hours of the night, playing that song as the unborn child inside of her was stirring drew a surreal parallel to that very child's actions now. It both warmed and pained Sirius that, though their daughter never truly met her mother, she was so like the woman in many ways.
"Am I interrupting?" Sirius cleared his throat, letting his presence be known when Estella paused between sets.
"Took you long enough," said Estella, turning her head slightly to look at her father from the corner of her eye.
Overcome with awkwardness as the memory of the afternoon's events cast a dark shadow over them, Sirius faltered in his step.
"Can… can I come in?" he asked humbly, gesturing hesitantly towards a nearby chair.
"Your house," Estella shrugged, the slightest edge to her voice. Sighing, she shook her head in self-admonishment and adjusted her tone. "I'm sorry, come in."
"Can't sleep?" asked Sirius, scrambling to find neutral territory as he resisted the urge to sit next to Estella on the long piano bench and instead perching himself awkwardly on the back of a nearby armchair.
"I've already had my sleep," Estella confessed. "I kinda took a potion when I went upstairs earlier."
"Ah, so that's how you were able to resist the smell of Moony's specialty?" Sirius smirked. "We'll have to let him know that he hasn't lost his touch."
"Oh, I think he'll get the picture when he looks for the left-overs in the morning," Estella nodded towards an empty bowl on the side table and favoured her father with a coy look. "Sorry, would have left you some, but you took too long and I was hungry."
"Play some more?" said Sirius shyly, trying to put an end to the meaningless small talk they had both resorted to. It was too painful to talk about food and other such incidentals when there remained a cavernous gap between them. Shifting more of his weight on to the chair he was leaning against, Sirius pondered how best to approach 'the incident' as Estella immersed herself in a piece by Chopin. So caught up in his thoughts was he, that he did not realise when the chair behind him started to shift under his weight, and he fell back with a loud crash.
Jumping up in alarm, Estella stopped her playing abruptly and rushed to her father's assistance.
"Merlin! Dad, are you all right?" Estella's face was wrought with worry as she crouched down next to her father, who was sprawled on the floor. Upon seeing his daughter's uninhibited compassion – even after all he had done – Sirius' eyes began to burn.
Misinterpreting his distress as pain, Estella's brow furrowed and she worried her lower lip between her teeth.
"I'd call for Moony, but I kinda spelled his door so he couldn't hear…" her voice trailed off and she busied herself with fixing a fallen cushion under her father's head. Sirius could only lay there and watch her dumbly. Noting his vacant expression, her frown deepened when he failed to reprimand her for her use of under-aged magic. "Dad, are you all right? Are you hurt? Dad, say something!"
"I'm sorry!" Sirius blurted, sitting up so quickly he almost knocked heads with Estella. Looking her in the eye now, he fumbled around until he had her small hands clasped in his own. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think… I didn't realise… remember…"
Resisting the hold her father had on her hands, she relaxed when she realised Sirius wasn't about to let go.
"Do you have any idea, any at all…" she as no longer able to talk on account of the lump forming in her throat. Turning her head to the side, she avoided her father's eyes and blinked furiously, lest she allow her tears to fall. Clearing her throat, she continued; "I hadn't felt that terrified since… since…"
"Estella," Sirius managed, his own voice thick with emotion. Grasping her chin gently to turn her head to face him, he sought eye contact. "Estella, look at me, please…" the matching pools of grey reflected equal pain and regret as they met. Catching a tear as it fell down her cheek, Sirius tried to blink his own tears away, but failed. "Sweetheart, I would do anything to take back what I did…"
"But you can't," said Estella flatly.
"It won't happen again." said Sirius resolutely.
"It better not," Estella nodded firmly in acceptance before lowering her gaze. "I owe you an apology too… I still think you could have handled it differently, but I acknowledge that there wasn't really time for either of us to think rationally. You only wanted to make sure I would be safe, and that I held you up so, Harry could have been seriously hurt and it would have been my fault and if anything had happened…"
"Estella, stop. It's over." Sirius cut her off softly. "Time to learn and move on."
"No, it's not." Estella shook her head. "I should have listened to you. I held things up unnecessarily. I have to learn that I can't be involved in everything… I have to… have to trust you when you are doing the right thing."
"Estella, what I did was not right-"
"Body-Binding me, yes, that was wrong," Estella acknowledged. "But you were right to make me stay. I was just so worried that something… something would happen to you if I wasn't there to help…"
"Estella, sweetheart," Sirius tilted her chin up again. "We've been through this before…"
Indeed, they had spend a good part of the beginning of summer arguing about chivalry and a father's instinct to lay his life on the line for his family. With a sigh, Sirius realised that his daughter still disagreed.
"But I… well, both Harry and me… we just got you back!" said Estella. "I just can't understand how you can talk so openly about going off to battle and getting yourself killed. What happens after you've gone, huh? When there's no one left… and I'm all alone when… when…"
Pulling his daughter into a hug, Sirius began to understand the root of her fear. It wasn't so much about the events in the graveyard, or even that Estella had been so defenceless as she had lain there in the Body Bind; but rather it was the unmistakable fear of having to face danger alone. With a shudder, Sirius realised that his daughter had already confronted the likes of Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy… and even a untamed werewolf… by herself; he had been nowhere in sight. Remembering too, how his own wife had been left to die alone, Sirius felt like a miserable failure. Tightening his grip on her, he buried his face in her hair and wept; muttering incoherent words of apology and promise. He realised with a sudden clarity that he had perhaps overestimated his daughter's resilience. Resourceful, rational and methodical his daughter may be, but a Gryffindor she was not. It was not to say his child was not courageous – but rather it was an acknowledgement that she was still a child, and no child should ever have had to face such horrors alone.
"I promise…" he said firmly. "I promise you'll never be alone again."
"You can't promise that," said Estella sadly. "But I appreciate the sentiment."
Kissing the top of his daughter's head, Sirius chuckled mirthlessly.
"You're too smart for your own good sometimes," he said. "But let's just concentrate on the here and now, mmm?"
When Remus stumbled downstairs the next morning, he was touched to find father and daughter asleep on the couch with their feet elevated on the coffee table amidst a mess of food scraps and cling-film. Spotting the scatter of music sheets around the piano, he glanced back the way he came and pondered how heavily he had just slept. Surmising that someone had gone to lengths to ensure he wouldn't wake during the night, Remus set himself the unenviable task of waking up the other occupants of the house.
The barest touch on a shoulder stirred Sirius from sleep. Recognising his daughter's form nestled against him, still asleep, he was careful not to make any sudden movements. Craning his neck slightly to see who had awoken him, he was met with the expectant gaze of his friend.
"It's a little before seven," Remus answered when he noticed his friend look out the window in question. It was not quite dawn. "Albus wants the kids back at the school before breakfast, remember?"
In all the confusion from the 'attack' of Hogsmeade, it had been possible to keep Estella and Harry away from the school temporarily. The Headmaster hadn't particularly liked the idea, but Sirius was not one to be argued with. Though the attack may have been executed by a collection of misguided students too afraid to do any real damage, Harry had been their target; when the boy had collapsed because of his scar, Sirius had insisted on keeping both teenagers secure until the authorities could determine whether or not the students had truly acted alone.
"Is Harry awake?" Sirius yawned, mentally calculating that he'd only fallen asleep three hours earlier.
"I haven't checked, but I heard him moving about above me when I was coming down the hall," said Remus. "Say, you didn't place a Silencing Charm around my room last night, did you?"
"No, that was Estella," Sirius frowned. "She got a jump on me on that one. I was nearly sixteen before I figured out the Ministry's bluff."
"It's a stupid law anyway," he added defensively, scowling at Remus' pointed look. He was not about to chastise his child for using magic within the walls of her own home. "Besides, she knows better than to run off doing tricks in front of Muggles, and that's the whole point of the law, isn't it? To teach young people restraint?"
Remus shrugged, feeling rather disinclined to enter into a philosophical discussion at such an early hour.
"I'll go put on some coffee if you'll make yourself useful and round up the kids."
"Has anyone told you recently that you sound like an old, nagging wife?" Estella opened one eye and tilted her head upwards to grin sleepily at her godfather. "It's enough to wake up a bear from hibernation!"
"That's what I get for sharing a dorm with your father for seven years," Remus quipped back, not missing a beat.
"It's a crime for anyone to be this sharp so early in the morning," Sirius growled, lowering his legs from the coffee table and standing. Raising his arms over his head, he stretched lazily before helping his daughter up. "C'mon, let's go see what's keeping Harry."
Choosing to wait to have breakfast with her friends in the Great Hall, Estella decided, was a bad idea. The fall out from the 'attack' the day before had the entire school talking and certain little things she had overlooked were destined to come back and haunt her.
"John!" she half-whispered, freezing in her step as she saw the sullen-looking boy sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table. Before she could turn and avoid being seen, he looked up and narrowed his eyes at her. Suddenly, the realisation that she'd accidentally stood him up the day before and had been removed from Hogsmeade before being able to make amends hit her like a Bludger and she winced. To make matters worse, the Slytherin students had targeted Madam Puddifoot's in their plight to get to Harry, and that was where John would have been waiting for her, alone. Overwhelmed with guilt, she made her way over to him, head bowed.
"John…" she started, unable to look the dejected boy in the face. "I…"
"I don't want to hear it." John said coolly, cutting her off without even looking up from his bowl. "If you didn't want to go out with me so much, you could have just said no…"
"John! It's not like that… it's-"
"Estella, I said I don't want to hear it!" he looked up at her finally, anger, pain and restraint flickering in his eyes. "Not now… not while I may say something I'll regret…"
Estella's mouth flew open in dismay, but before she could counter his statement with another heartfelt apology, she was interrupted by an unwelcome presence behind her.
"Estella," Draco Malfoy's voice beckoned her with sickening congeniality.
"What, Draco?" she snapped, spinning around and lashing out at the boy for what she suspected – by the Slytherin's look of surprise at least – was the first time.
Draco stepped back and held open his palms in defeat. "Excuse me for interrupting, I was just relieved to see that you were all right," he said with a sincerity that Estella had difficulty trying to discredit. "A lot's happened since you've been gone-"
"Gone?" Estella cut in. "I haven't gone anywhere!"
"I beg to differ." Draco was back to his old, self-assured self, and Estella didn't know if she wanted to slap the smirk off his face or hex it to stay until it hurt. "Your father made a spectacular scene of Disapparating his godson out of the line of danger, and neither you nor Scarhead were anywhere to be seen last night. It's a natural conclusion to draw that you had been taken out of Hogsmeade too; and since one cannot Apparate into Hogwarts…"
Behind her, Draco met John's eyes pointedly, causing the Ravenclaw boy to regret his earlier words and understand Estella's absence the day before. Following the blond boy's gaze, Estella exchanged a look with John before levelling her eyes at her 'cousin'.
"No offence, Draco, but what do you want?" asked Estella tiredly. "I'm hungry and John and I were kind of in the middle of something."
"My parents were right," said Draco, a slightly hurt tone in his voice. "Your father's influence is unbecoming of you."
"What do you mean by that?" Estella rounded on the boy fully.
"Not to dismiss your mother's judgement, of course…" Draco relented. "Though it does seem apparent that your father's stay in Azkaban had an undesirable effect on him;" - he held up a hand to silence her protests – "Think of me what you will, Estella, but know that I've been concerned for you ever since that day in Diagon Alley. My father is not a gentle man, but he at least can control himself in public… I dread to think what your father is like in private."
"Wait, you think… you actually think?" Estella spluttered at the implications behind Draco's misguided sentiment.
"Whether or not it is true, Estella, is irrelevant. Suffice it to say, however, I am not the only one who is concerned." Draco inclined his head and stepped back. "I see that now is not a good time to enter into this discussion with you, so if you'd excuse me… I only wished to assure myself that you were all right after this weekend's events."
"Yes, so you keep saying…" said Estella distractedly, trying to determine a motive for Draco's behaviour. Thanking him quietly, she let out a sigh of relief when he made his way to his own table, making room for Estella's other friends as they arrived in his wake. Settling down to breakfast – she had not been lying when she had said she was hungry – Estella could almost forget the bizarre interlude that had just occurred and comprehend the strange amnesty John was now extending towards her.
The Great Hall was relaxed on Sunday, with breakfast a rather casual affair as people came and went at their leisure. The tables, however, were unusually full this morning as the morning post arrived. If Estella didn't know any better, it was almost as though they were anticipating something. Accepting her copy of the Daily Prophet from the beak of a screech owl, she pushed a Knut into its leather pouch and, like many of the Ravenclaws around her, disappeared behind the folded pages of parchment.
"Anything interesting?" asked John, who, preoccupied with his hard-boiled egg, had not bothered to open his paper yet. Estella suspected he had neglected his paper deliberately so as to have something to talk to her about.
"No," she sighed, "just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married."
Not one for the trumped up, often inaccurate propaganda the Daily Prophet splashed across its front pages, Estella had turned straight to the entertainment section out of habit. Many would argue that the fallacious rhetoric of the Daily Prophet's primary investigative reporter, Rita Skeeter, was just as entertaining. Turning to the front page anyway as she reached for her goblet of Pumpkin Juice, Estella let out a gasp and spilled her drink when she saw the headline.
"What's happened?" asked Reg, who looked up from the Quidditch page in question before fossicking for the front page of his own paper. "Oh!"
The table sat in silence for the next few minutes, the frantic rustling of papers signally that its occupants were absorbing the recent developments. Estella tore her eyes away from the large photo of Dolores Umbridge smiling widely up at her from the front page of the paper, and read the headline.
MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR
"Umbridge – High Inquisitor?" someone muttered, the sounds of half-eaten toast falling onto plates as the students at the Ravenclaw table read on.
In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
'The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of.'
This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-three was passed, to ensure that the Ministry was gainfully represented amongst the alumni of all educational facilities.
'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'Letting the young people of Hogwarts know that the Ministry is there to look out for them has been a high priority for Minister Scrimgeour. Judging by the enthusiastic welcome the students paid to Ms Umbridge, it is clear that such a liaison was long overdue-
"Enthusiastic welcome?" a disgruntled reader scoffed loudly in disbelief. Snorting quietly in agreement, Estella continued reading:
'-it is clear that such a liaison was long overdue; and it is based on the on-the-ground feedback the Minister has since become privy to that have prompted this new legislation.'
It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalised with the passing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor.
'This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect the school's educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch.'
The new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.
'I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'
Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody.
Perhaps of even more controversial, immediate relevance, was Dumbledore's noted disregard for the Minister's advice that the student's Hogsmeade trips be cancelled. In the wake of yesterday's 'attack' (for further details, please see page two) rumours have begun to circulate that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.
'I think the appointment of an Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night.
Also central to this move, is the lack of concern the influential veteran has exhibited towards the documented behaviour of the wrongly-accused Sirius Black. Black, 37, of undisclosed address was cleared of all charges laid against him in June after the capture of Peter Pettigrew, whose grisly murder Black had been charged with in November 1981. Since his pardon and public apology was administered by the Ministry's former administration (along with a sizable monetary compensation said to figure in the hundreds of thousands of Galleons) Black is said to have been enjoying a quiet existence with his daughter and godson, whom we all know better as the Boy-Who-Lived.
While both children are said to be in good health and fitting in well amongst their classmates at Hogwarts, questions have arisen as to the kind of home life Black is able to provide. Following reports of abuse by several noted members of wizarding society, and the recent assault of a Ministry official by a man bearing Black's description, specialists at St Mungo's have begun to speculate that despite his innocence, after twelve years in Azkaban, Sirius Black may not be of mentally sound mind to raise children. Attempts to track down Sirius Black's whereabouts have been circumvented by Albus Dumbledore, who maintains that the allegations against his former student are without merit.
'Estella Black thrived under the ministrations of her uncle,' Narcissa Malfoy, herself a Black, said last night when interviewed alongside her husband. 'I fashioned myself as a surrogate mother to the poor child, and now Sirius refuses to allow me to see her. All I have are a few photographs of happier times…'
Estella's uncle, Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, could not be reached for comment but former colleagues say that he has always maintained a volatile relationship with his brother-in-law. Snape is understood to have single-handedly raised the girl since infancy, following the death of his sister, Selina, in childbirth.
'I'm very concerned for Estella's welfare,' a close friend of Estella's confided to our reporter. 'I tried talking to her recently and witnessed her father physically reprimand her for coming near me. It pains me that she may be too scared to lodge a formal complaint… I'd be scared too if my father was so unbalanced as to permit a werewolf to live under the same roof as me.'
The newly appointed High Inquisitor for Hogwarts has made it one of her first objectives to secure a true and accurate assessment of the school's less fortunate students.
'I was mortified to hear that Sirius Black had opened his home to a werewolf,' Ms Umbridge said in a statement released yesterday. 'For too long Hogwarts has turned a blind eye to the kind of home lives its students have. That any child should have to grow up in such a dangerous environment is abhorrent, even more so when one of the children in particular is so very dear to us all.'
Umbridge was of course referring to Black's godson, Harry Potter, whereupon further investigation, more evidence of Albus Dumbledore's poor judgement can be counted.
'His Muggle aunt and uncle didn't think much of magic,' an undisclosed source revealed. 'Kept him locked in a cupboard, mostly. Them's the rumours. Not a day goes by when I didn't ask meself what Dumbledore was thinkin' leaving the boy with those Muggles – what, when there was a much nicer lot amongst wizards willin' to adopt the little nipper…'
To participate in our reader's poll, 'Should an ex-prisoner of Azkaban be permitted to raise children?' read the editorial by our resident medical expert on page 27 and send us a Howler with your opinion. For further discussion on the Ministry's intervention at Hogwarts, be sure to listen to tonight's 'Nightly Prophet' talk-back show on WWN at 7pm GMT.
Estella lowered the page in disgust and blanched. All around her, she could just feel eyes staring at her. Ignoring the sympathetic looks of her friends, she glanced up at her uncle at the head table, trying to discern if he had read the article. Unable to read anything from his expressionless mask, at this distance at least, she looked towards the Gryffindor table, where she could see Harry being consoled by his friends, his back to her. Her gaze drifting by the Slytherin table as she surveyed the room one last time, she caught the eye of Draco, who was looking at her pointedly. Comparing his words to her earlier with the quote in the paper, Estella narrowed her eyes in contempt before looking away.
Returning her attention to her breakfast, Estella was unsurprised to find that she had lost her appetite. Tuning out of the small talk around her, she concentrated on picking apart the article in her mind, trying to anticipate the consequences of the slanderous piece. When it all finally became too much to handle, she excused herself quietly and exited the Great Hall. Heading towards the stairwell that led to the lower levels of the castle, Estella let her mind wander as she traced the familiar path to her uncle's quarters. The exclusive tower hideaway that the headmaster had provided for her Order research could only be accessed from one of three Floo connections in the school, and Estella could think of no other place she'd rather be at that moment.
The first thing Estella noticed upon entering the private little nook legend suggested Rowena Ravenclaw had first set aside for herself, was the addition of a rather large piece of furniture. Recognising the dusty old upright piano immediately, her eyes were drawn directly to a folded-up piece of parchment resting on the music stand. Sitting down at the bench she had last sat on with the teenaged version of her mother beside her, Estella turned the note over n her hands and smiled. Trust her father to have the House Elves move the instrument somewhere she'd be inclined to use it. Dismissing the idle thought that her father's newfound interest in having her practice stemmed from the likeness to her mother that he had said she'd exhibited the other night, Estella tucked the note into a pocket of her robe and tested a few notes to see if it was in tune.
"I thought I would find you here," a familiar voice said from behind her, the silhouette of a figure emerging from the fire, casting a tell-tale shadow on the wall she was facing.
Estella needn't have turned around. Even if the person hadn't spoken, she knew that there were only two people present in the school who could enter the concealed room without being accompanied by either the Headmaster or herself; and of those two, only one would have cause to seek her out.
"Good morning, Uncle Sev," she sighed, swivelling on the bench to face her former guardian.
"You are playing again?" Severus eyed the piano warily. Estella shrugged and moved over, patting the bench next to her. Without inhibition, Severus crossed the circular room in three strides and sat on the bench, facing the piano. When Estella made no move to turn around, he rested his fingers on the slightly dusty keys, momentarily lost in a memory of the lessons he'd given not so long ago. It was most disheartening how much things could change within such a short period of time. Recognising the sign when Estella shuffled forward to rest her head on his shoulder, Severus began to play softly, his chest swelling with an all too familiar pain.
Filled with an innate sense of peace as he felt his niece relax against him, Severus reflected on their unusual relationship. Very few people were ever exposed to this almost tender side of him. Severus was grateful, however, that when in such a mood, no words need be exchanged. It was apparent that Estella turned to music as a refuge, and if indulging her some Brahms after breakfast would keep her away from the infernal Muggle music box her godfather had given her to assault her ears with, Severus was not going to deny her.
"Why does it always happen to us?" she asked quietly, shifting back so that she could look her uncle in the eye.
"Self-pity is unbecoming," said Severus gently, not moving his eyes from the empty music stand before him. "Do not spend your time dwelling on that which you cannot change."
"But-"
Severus stilled his hands on the keys. "You've been in the company of Gryffindors too long, Estella," said Severus resignedly. "Your preoccupation with getting things your way has blinded you to the virtues of compromise."
"When God gives you lemons, make lemonade, eh?" Estella smirked slightly, the curl in her lips becoming more defined when she saw the disgruntled look on her uncle's face – he did not appreciate the simplicity of Muggle analogies.
Sobering at the man's hesitant nod, she gazed down at her lap, her hands picking at a loose thread in her robes. "You're right, of course. It just frustrates me, that's all… Merlin help me if I have to be in a room alone with that woman anytime soon!"
"You will control your temper, Estella Black!" said Severus in a voice not to be argued with. "You will find, like your father before you, that succumbing to your baser urges will not bear good tidings. To the contrary, if history serves…"
Estella slumped and sighed. "I know, I know…" she straightened suddenly. "Could you tutor me again? In Defence, I mean? Your classes are great, but I think I need something… more… to direct my energies on."
"Play Quidditch," said Severus dryly, casting his niece a sidelong look as he deployed a wry humour very few could understand. "Your mother got much satisfaction at sending Bludgers hurtling through my bedroom window when I crossed her."
Rolling her eyes, Estella grinned. "S'pose that's why you opted for quarters in the dungeons then, huh?" she said. "What would you do if I said that was a brilliant idea?"
"I'd remind you that Quidditch try-outs have been and gone and you'd be better placed investing your time in extra Defence lessons instead."
"Really? You'll help me practice?" Estella momentarily forgot her prior concerns. "Can I learn non-verbal spells? Please?"
"Unfortunately, we'll be limited to the curriculum I'd prefer to be teaching the entire class." At his niece's questioning look, he elaborated. "If you cared to look past the Ministry's designs for your father, you will have noted the control over the syllabus the new provisions have given Dolores Umbridge."
"Surely the Ministry would not try to water down-"
"There are certain elements in the Ministry who appear to underestimate the risk this war will pose on children," said Severus. "In making children defenceless, by restricting what they can learn in my class to the purely theoretical, it is hoped that students will step back and let adults protect them rather than overestimating their ability and pushing themselves into the frontline."
"That's so twisted!" Estella exclaimed. "Taking us out of the equation by depriving us of knowledge won't keep us safe! Adults can't be everywhere!"
"Which is why I merit the suggestion to give you additional tuition," said Severus simply.
"But what about everyone else?" Estella was incredulous. "You're their teacher!"
"-and you're my family." finished Severus. "Are you questioning my priorities?" Noticing her eyes narrow, he sighed. "If the parents do not like the methods the Ministry prescribes, they are free to have their children privately tutored. I can only operate under within the guidelines the High Inquisitor provides."
Noting the bitter tone in her uncle's voice, Estella relented. She didn't like the idea of students – particularly Muggleborns with no access to outside help – being deprived of practical methods to defend themselves, but all she could afford to do at present was take it in her stride. In the short time she had been a member of the Order, Estella knew that adults faced much greater consequences for breaking the rules and with her father's suitability as a guardian under the microscope, she knew that her uncle probably felt as though he couldn't step a foot wrong. Seeing the need for some levity, she quirked a brow.
"I imagine Professor Flitwick was unimpressed by the impositions," said Estella, knowing firsthand how passionate the Ravenclaw Head of House was about learning.
"Indeed," said Severus, not willing to give anything away about his colleague's rather unique reaction. What happened in the staff room, stayed in the staff room.
"So what are we supposed to do in Defence Against the Dark Arts now?" she asked conversationally.
"Read," said her uncle simply.
"Oh excellent," Estella drawled. "We'll be the best prepared students if ever the books in the library decide to maul us!"
As though suddenly remembering something important, Estella stiffened slightly, causing Severus to stop tinkling at the keys idly. Leaning back slightly to regard her with an expectant look, he waited for her to voice her concern.
"I was sorry to hear about those students getting expelled from your house," said Estella quietly, cringing when she saw her uncle set his jaw in response.
"Do not apologise for what you are not at fault," said Severus firmly, his dark eyes staring past her to focus on an anonymous point on the wall.
Moving her head so that she could look her uncle in the eye, Estella frowned. "Do not feel guilt for that which you have no control," she responded, just as firmly.
Severus stared at his niece calculatingly before nodding once, an unspoken absolution passing between them.
"So, who were they?" she asked curiously. "Is there anything I can do? You know Draco approached me at breakfast, I could-"
"No." Severus said quickly, grabbing her upper arm gently as though she were about to physically enact what she was talking about. "You will not go looking for trouble…" his voice took on a distant quality as he once again looked over her head, his mind lost in thought; "it has enough luck finding you." He took a deep breath, and his eyes refocused as he explained who the expelled students were.
"I hope you don't blame yourself," Estella reiterated once her uncle had finished. "A House master can only do so much and I for one think you make a brilliant Head of House."
"How could you possibly know that?" Severus raised a brow, his curiosity shattering his mask of indifference. "You are not a Slytherin."
"Stating the obvious, much?" Estella rolled her eyes. "I know what you're thinking, I'm your niece, and so I can't help but be bias. Maybe that's true… but think of it this way: on one hand we have Professor Sprout who positively coddles her Hufflepuffs and buries her head in the sand like one of her precious plants…" – she smiled slightly when her uncle didn't object – "… Professor McGonagall thinks the sun shines out of the Headmaster's arse and is generally unapproachable by her house in that stern old woman way of hers…"
"Professor Flitwick?" Severus raised a brow.
"If only you knew what the Ravenclaws said behind his back," said Estella, making no means to reveal House secrets. "Don't get me wrong, he commands a lot of respect and is quite knowledgeable, but c'mon, what student in their right mind would ever take him seriously? I know we mustn't discriminate on the grounds of physical stature, but it's a conditioned reflex to infantilise those shorter than us. Why else do you think he stands on a ladder to teach? A simple summoning charm would beckon whatever materials he'd need to retrieve from a height, and I've never see you physically write on a blackboard…"
"And how do the shortcomings of the other House masters reflect on my abilities?" asked Severus. "I'm widely known by the school population as… what is it… a greasy git?"
"A mere physicality," said Estella dismissively. "The students of the other houses don't appreciate how you are with the students of your own house because you don't go out of your way to treat all students that way. People only see what they want to see."
"And what makes you think that you're not just seeing-"
"Because I've heard how the Slytherins talk about you. I've seen how they look at you while you give your start of term address in the common room. Take it from someone who keeps her ear to the ground on a student level – people may revere you and outright fear you even, but you can bet that at one point or another, they've wondered what you're like as a Head of House." she endeavoured to explain. "When the Hufflepuffs look at Sprout, they see an unwanted mother substitute. The Gryffindors are alienated from McGonagall because she is also the Deputy Headmistress… and the people in my house can't even look Flitwick in the eye. Trust me when I say that the Slytherins are unique in seeing a leader with such strength of character."
His black eyes glistening, Severus could do nothing but stare at his niece searchingly. Just what could you say to that?
"I hope this doesn't mean that I should take the charms off my hair…" he said bluntly, catching Estella off guard.
If it were possibly for a jaw to hit the floor a little over four feet from the ground, Estella's would have done so at that moment.
"You… you… Uncle Sev… were you cracking a joke?" She giggled, inwardly whooping for joy when her uncle returned the favour with a small smile. Her chuckles escalating into unrestrained laughter, she lost balance on the bench suddenly and fell to the floor.
Severus smirked slightly and held out his hand for his niece to pull herself up. "Now, to think how a single-minded Gryffindor would react…" he mused aloud.
Before Estella could comment, her hand flew out of his grip, causing her to fly backwards onto the floor.
"Ow!" she clutched at her side, her hand hovering over an omniscient bulge in the pocket to her robes. "Bloody hell!"
Severus, in turn, was just about to chide his niece on her language when he watched her pull a small mirror out of her pocket and glare at it.
"What?" she asked her reflection. "You know I always keep it on me, couldn't you take a hint?"
What, or who Estella was talking to, Severus did not know. From his vantage point, it looked as though she was listening to a response; and his suspicions were answered when she spoke again.
"Dad, I know it wasn't an emergency! If it were urgent you would have made it burn a hole in my pocket from the outset instead of persistently getting more and more annoying like a petulant child!"
Another short silence. Estella smirked.
"Well actually I have spoken to my uncle this morning. He's right here, would you like to say good morning?" her smile widened, and she looked up at her uncle from her place on the floor. "You wanna say hi?"
Severus silently marvelled at how Estella's eyes lit up as she regarded the reflection on the other side of the mirror. Feelings of grief and guilt simultaneously pulled at him. Grief, for no longer being the person the child before him exclusively regarded in that way; and guilt, for ever consciously attempting to take the place of her father in her life. Shaking his head slightly at the proffered mirror, he reflected on how purely ingenious the communication device was. As he watched his niece resume her seemingly one-way conversation with the mirror he dismissed the fanciful thought of confiscating the curious artefact.
It wasn't as though Severus was completely unfamiliar with the principle. He'd seen the mirror being used in Order meetings where his niece had been absent, but had rather uncharacteristically overlooked how the device were used outside of the meeting setting. The realisation, then, that Estella could turn to either her father or godfather at any time whilst he was constrained by class time tables and House duties made him feel as though he had the shorter end of the wand. Here were two men who commanded all of her time during the summer, with the understanding that he would have ample access to the girl during the school term, and yet here they were able to talk to her whenever they wanted whilst he, as a teacher at the school, had very little chance outside of the academic setting.
Feeling in an equally dark mood as he had felt when he had first stepped into the room, Severus stood swiftly and excused himself tersely. Far be it for him to demand his niece's attention like some needy Gryffindor – if she wanted to converse with her father, then he was obliged to give her the privacy in which to do so.
Acknowledging his intent to depart, Estella scrambled to her feet and muttered an apology for the interruption. Then, before he could throw the Floo Powder into the dying embers of the fireplace, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.
"Love you, Uncle Sev," she said, looking up at him as she held him in place. "You'll always be my most favourite uncle!"
"I'm your only uncle, you foolish child!" Severus admonished his niece in an endearing fashion. Brushing the crown of her head with his lips, he whispered his other response into her hair and stepped back out of her loosening grip, dropping his pinch of Floo Powder in the same movement and whisking himself away to his quarters with a barely audible command.
"He's gone?" The image of her father's reflection called her back to attention. "Hey, why'd you suppose he didn't want to say hello?"
"Because you have impeccable timing, that's why." Estella responded, inspecting the nails on her free hand as she made her way over towards a gaily coloured beanbag and falling into it in an unholy heap. "He'd only gotten halfway through the Sonata for one…"
"Huh?" Sirius stared at his daughter with a blank expression.
"Never mind," she waved her hand dismissively. "Have you gotten any news on Hagrid yet?"
"Ah…" said Sirius, "well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him." Then, seeing his daughter's stricken face, he added quickly, "But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you go getting anyone in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."
"But if he was supposed to be back by now…" said Estella in a small, anxious voice.
"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home – but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or – well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly OK."
"I told him it was a bad idea, sending a half-giant into giant territory…" Estella scowled darkly. "And if I can conclude that as a student and something has happened to Hagrid it'll speak volumes-"
"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," said Sirius hastily, "it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and believe it or not, Dumbledore has enough people to answer to right now… so lay off a little, all right? Hagrid's tough, he'll be OK." And when that did not appear to quell his daughter's dissent, Sirius added, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway? I was thinking Padfoot could-"
"NO!" said Estella, rather loudly. "Didn't you see today's Daily Prophet? News has gotten out that you're wanted for questioning over that incident in the Ministry and they have specialists from St Mungo's saying that Azkaban made you crazy and you have to be 'regrettably' hospitalised for everyone's safety!"
"Oh, that," said Sirius, grinning, "Don't worry, Dumbledore will get it sorted-"
"But what if they get to you first? You may have endured twelve years in Azkaban, but that doesn't mean there'll be anything left of you to save if those sick Ministry you-know-whats have their way with you – especially when it's someone like Lucius Malfoy pulling the strings!"
"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius. He looked most displeased. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together."
"I would, I'd just prefer a father who didn't drool and look at things without seeing!" said Estella. "Though," she huffed as an after thought, "there are some who'd say…"
"Watch it you…" Sirius warned. "Don't forget you have to see me at least once a fortnight at meetings."
"Exactly, so why do you want to drag yourself out to Hogsmeade?" said Estella.
"Where else am I going to take my daughter shopping for her birthday present?" asked Sirius sweetly. "It's coming up, you know!"
Estella rolled her eyes exasperatedly and humoured her father as he began to excitedly make plans for her upcoming birthday. Not to discount all that her uncle had done for her or discredit her godfather's distinctly more subdued enthusiasm for the day, but she found it was rather something else to share the anticipation with a parent. Whereas with her uncle her birthday always seemed to be clouded by the shadow of her mother's death; and, in an unguarded moment, Estella would catch her godfather reflecting on the loss of his friends and entire way of life; it seemed that with her father, the 31st October was all about her. Of course, that said, Estella was not so foolish as to ignore the probability that her father was likely focusing on her birthday to distract himself from what else the day meant in their family history. She knew that his enthusiasm was expounded by his eagerness to make up for all their lost years together; and that, by the time the day rolls along, the other events of that day nearly fourteen years ago would still cross his mind.
"I know Dad, I know…" she said quietly, vowing to not allow any member of her family go through her birthday without paying her mother, James and Lily the remembrance their deaths command.
END CHAPTER
Next chapter: Second Chances
Due: Two weeks from now…
