Apologies for the long delay in updates. I can say it was unequivocally not my fault, but the fault of technology. Also, apologies to anyone hoping for fluff in this chapter…

Chapter 22- Birthright

To say I was distracted over the next few days would be a gross understatement. I swung wildly between vague and flowery daydreams of happily ever after (which, it must be admitted, sometimes drifted into less innocent daydreams) and absolute, pure, unadulterated terror.

In my less practical moments, I wanted to see him again, badly, and devoted a great deal of effort to thinking up vague plans to make that happen, most of which were vastly unrealistic and the result of a badly overworked imagination.

That was usually interrupted by my more practical moments, in which I would realize not only were my chances of sneaking away again exceptionally slim, but that I was playing with fire, dragging him into it with me, and it could never work. I would hope that when I got back to school we could simply pretend it had never happened, and yet I probably knew that that wasn't a possibility either. There are times when you can make a mistake, get carried away in a moment with a friend and cross a line, admit it was a mistake, and still go back. I knew somehow that this was not one of those times. Because if there was one thing I had realized in that kiss, it was that Ted didn't want to be friends with me. If I was honest, I didn't want to go back to being friends with him either, but there were moments when that seemed the easiest and safest solution.

And yet I expected that while he had never pushed me, he wasn't going to let me lie either- I had kissed him. I had made the first move. I had wanted that, and I hadn't wanted it to end. He wasn't going to let me get away with lying, with saying it had been mistake, with pretending it hadn't happened, and hadn't changed things.

If anyone else noticed my sudden preoccupation, nothing was said. My parents, if they even noticed, probably put it down to the normal moods of a teenage girl, and it dawned on me slowly that my sisters had their own distractions that summer.

Narcissa's was Lucius Malfoy. Despite the appearance of being entirely decorative, Lucius is not a stupid man. More than that, he has an acute understanding of the pureblood world and its unwritten rules and understood customs. He knew that seeming to pursue fifteen-year-old Narcissa would look bad, she was too young, and it would hurt her reputation if anyone thought she was behaving improperly with a man of nearly twenty, even one with the impeccable pedigree of Lucius Malfoy. But he also understood that while Narcissa might want him, a lot of boys wanted Narcissa, and a girl that age is easily distracted. He kept himself very much the focus of her affection by simply becoming her friend, and a sort of confidante. I can't imagine what they found to talk about, but they did talk, taking long walks, always under the watchful gaze of Mother or Father or a house elf. While time spent in Lucius's presence always made me like him even less, Narcissa continued to fall in love with him, luckily even more than she had loved the idea of him. While theirs was by no means a perfect relationship, I think that year was what gave it enough foundation to last.

Bella's summer brought something much darker. Though I felt like she was slipping away even more, I didn't realize then what a turning point it was for her. Like Narcissa and I, for perhaps it was just the age we were, she was falling in love as well. I don't seek to excuse what she's done, but I do disagree with those who think Bella is incapable of love. Certainly, she gave Lord Voldemort her soul, and her mind, but her heart has always belonged to Rodolphus. It's not what most people would hope for the love of their life, certainly it's dark, and edgy, but passionate and real all the same.

It's not that I didn't notice Bella sneaking out that summer, but that by then I had come to think of it as normal. She felt at home with night and darkness, and I thought little of it if she climbed into my window at four in the morning (for my room was easier to reach from the back of the house where she could apparate without danger of being seen from Mother or Father's room.) I assumed it was what it had always been; she slipped out to meet Rodolphus, to meet her friends, to go to the shadier places in Diagon Alley that nice girls didn't know about. I had no idea she had a new reason.

I would learn years later that she took the Dark Mark that summer. I still don't know how she hid it, for it was not until nearly two years later that I actually saw the tattoo, despite the fact that Bella had never been particularly modest and I certainly saw her in various states of undress that summer and after.

We were so wrapped up in our own growing up, we failed to notice the storm coming at Grimmauld Place.

My parents thought, and they had a point in a certain sense, that Uncle Orion was too lenient with Sirius. There was traditionally a certain amount of freedom given and allowances made for the son and heir. That had generally meant that strings were pulled-to cover up bad grades and indiscretions (with both women and various mind-altering substances). In some ways Sirius was no different, as Uncle Orion tended to brush off his son's Hogwarts detention record-setting, the notes from McGonagall, and the bills for the occasional destruction of school property with a careless "boys will be boys" attitude. The trouble Sirius got into at Hogwarts was generally the result of some sort of practical joke- sometimes funny, usually childish, and primarily intended to embarrass someone. He could be cruel, because he was young, attractive, brilliant, and careless but he wasn't intentionally malicious. When it came to consciously wanting to hurt people, they should have understood Bella was far more dangerous that Sirius.

So Uncle Orion overlooked his son's behavior at school, and gave him far much more freedom than we had as girls. If Sirius had done the same things in Slytherin, with pureblood friends, there probably would have been no problem. Where they clashed had started the day Sirius started at Hogwarts- Gryffindor, and his friends.

If it had been only James Potter…politics aside he was still the only son of wealthy pureblood parents…it might have been let go. But the truth was that Sirius was ridiculously popular (as good-looking, wealthy, and bright young men generally are), and was friends with anyone and everyone he liked, and Sirius had discovered that he had more in common with his friends than he did with his own family.

However, that summer Uncle Orion had decided that it was high time that Sirius shape up and start acting like the Black heir. He sat Sirius down and told him this, along with a series of new rules. He was not to see James Potter anymore, for the boy was clearly a bad influence, and he certainly was not see those other friends of his (it's unlikely Uncle Orion would deign to know the names of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, but if he did he certainly wouldn't deign to say them.) He wasn't to see "that girl" (we assumed this was Marlene) and he definitely wasn't to associate with anyone who wasn't a pureblood. He was to start learning what went into running the family. That was admittedly a bit of a mystery, since the various business interests of the Blacks more or less ran themselves and Uncle Orion didn't actually do anything.

In typical Sirius fashion, he paid no more attention to this than any other directive his parents had delivered, which is to say he ignored it. After about a month and no change in his behavior, Uncle Orion decided it was time to repeat the lecture, and maybe a bit of pain would make Sirius take notice and underline the points he was trying to make.

It was the next day that we visited for a dinner party, and it was impossible to miss that Sirius looked unusually pale, dark circles under his eyes, and livid bruises visible when he turned the wrong way, barely hidden by his collar.

"Sirius, what-"

He cut off my question with a sharp jerk of his head, and a look that meant it was not the time to discuss it. I wouldn't know the whole story until months later. But rather than being subdued by the experience, Sirius was angry. He was almost no indication of it in his expression, but it was definitely burning in his eyes. Even Bella shied back into me when he looked at her.

The dinner party was a small one, not particularly important in the grand scheme of things. Louis Foster (his Mother had been a Flint, and his father from an old pureblood Irish family), an old friend of Uncle Orion's, had recently retired from the Ministry. Or at least retired was the phrase they were using, although he was only about fifty, and everyone knew he'd really left because he believed more in Lord Voldemort's position than he did in the Ministry's attempts at stopping the war. According to our family, this was a cause for celebration, and so the party had been organized, a small affair, only a few guests outside of family, but important ones. Abraxas Malfoy, Joseph Wilkes, and a dark, frightening man who I didn't know and nobody quite introduced, perhaps on purpose.

We weren't expected to say anything, and indeed we knew better than to speak among adults unless asked a direct question, and so I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation until my father asked Foster something and he looked up. He had been previously attempting to look down the front of Bella's gown without making much of an effort to even be discreet about it.

"Ah well, it is good to be away from the Ministry, it was a great waste of time and effort, they're still toeing to Dumbledore's line, still going on about protection and equality," he answered. "Ridiculous."

The adults around the table made vague noises of approval and agreement, but Sirius snorted derisively. He looked shocked himself, as though he made the sound without really meaning to. Conversation ceased, and all eyes went to him.

"Something to say, young Mr. Black?" Malfoy drawled, looking amused. His son was the perfect pureblood heir, and it pleased him that the Blacks had such trouble with the boy who was supposed to be the future of the family.

"No, he has nothing to say," Uncle Orion said sharply.

"No, no, Orion, let him speak, I'm interested. Always enjoy hearing the opinions of the younger generation," Foster turned a rather nasty smile back to Sirius.

Sirius leaned his chair back to two legs, casually rude, to anyone else he might have looked completely at ease, but I knew it was a pose he took up right before unleashing torment on some hapless Hogwarts teacher.

"It's just remarkable, really..." he said mildly.

"What is?"

"The way you can twist the facts and say it's the Ministry that's in the wrong when really what they're trying to do is stop genocide."

The room fell completely silent, Uncle Orion, our parents, and even Bella staring at Sirius in shocked silence, while he met all their eyes defiantly. Even the most heated political rhetoric about the war didn't use that word. Indeed, I had never thought of it as such, although by definition that was what they had in mind...the elimination of those they considered less pure. Bella opened her mouth as though to speak and I put my heel down hard on her foot- the last thing we needed was for her to get involved in an ugly scene at dinner as well. She kicked me in the ankle but remained silent.

"That's enough," Uncle Orion said, voice tight with anger. "I apologize Louis, for his…" he seemed at a loss for words to describe his older son.

"No need to apologize, the boy is old enough to form his own opinions. You can hardly help who he associates with at that school, not when Dumbledore lets in any mudblood that comes along. In fact, the lad is an excellent example of what is happening to our world, how our traditions are being eroded, how their minds are being polluted by the mudblood rhetoric."

"If you think bigotry and incest are traditions worth saving," Sirius bit out.

"I said that's enough," Uncle Orion said again, his voice rising. Sirius stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over, and threw his napkin down, and strode out of the room. There was a long silence, Regulus reached over and righted the chair, and Malfoy cleared is throat and made an awkward comment about Mr. Wilkes's recent trip to France, and they seized on it gratefully, but the dinner never really recovered.

I can't imagine the incident went unmentioned, but we never heard the row that resulted, although we stayed over at Grimmauld Place that night. It was the next morning I went looking for Sirius and couldn't find him anywhere, until I noted the window of his room open, and leaned out curiously to find him stretched out casually on a mostly flat part of the roof, hands folded behind his head. I knew the charms around the house would make it impossible for muggles in the surrounding neighborhood to see us.

"Do you mind company?"

He shrugged, and I took it as a no, and carefully climbed out the window to join him.

"Interesting choice of location."

"I couldn't stand being in that house anymore, but with the way Father has it locked up to keep me in, this was the best I could do."

I sighed, sitting next to him. "Sirius, why do you start fights with them?"

"Why don't you?" he snapped back, surprising me.

"What?"

"I know you don't believe in all that. I know you don't. You don't think muggle-borns are inferior and you don't think being a Black makes you better than anyone else. You have friends who are muggle-borns, maybe more than friends, but you hide it from them. You never say anything."

"What would be the point? Do you really think they're going to change their minds?"

"The point is standing up for something you believe in. Letting them know that you don't think what they're saying is right. The point is not sitting there and ignoring it because that's easier for you."

"And how has that worked out for you Sirius? Things going brilliantly? You can't choose your family Sirius, and they're not going away. We have to live with them however we can."

"No, we don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you reckon they'd be glad to get rid of me? Relieved, you know? Ever since I was sorted into Gryffindor I've been an embarrassment. Without me Reggie could be the price. Let him be their heir. Let him be their prefect pureblood son."

"What are you talking about?" I didn't like where the conversation was going.

He sighed. "Nothing. If that works for you then fine Andy. If you can go the rest of your life pretending that you believe in all that. If you're willing to watch them go deeper into all this and not say anything then fine. But I don't think that's the case. You want things that they're not going to let you have."

"You don't know what I want Sirius, and that's not your decision to make."

"No. It's yours, certainly. You can buy into all this toujours pur bullshit if you want to. I just think you're not being honest about what you believe in. Certainly not with them, and maybe not with yourself. I'm not happy here Andy, but at least I'm telling the truth."

He stood up precariously and climbed back inside, leaving me out there.

"I'm late, I have to…Sirius is waiting…" I say urgently, but I can't make myself move.

"Right…I know," Ted agrees, kissing me again, and I can't remember why I was so anxious to leave.

"I really have to go…"

"I know…"

Voices, besides mine and Ted's, started to invade the dream that I really didn't want to let go of. I turned over, trying to bury my face in the pillow and block them out, but to no avail, I was awake and the dream and the happy flutter that went with it were fading. I had kicked off all the blankets because it was unbearably hot in the room despite the window I had opened before going to bed, and it was through the open window that voices were drifting in. I scowled at it, trying to summon the energy to get up and close it so I could go back to sleep.

It was Bella's voice, and so the lower male voice I couldn't quite make out would be Rodolphus, and I didn't really care to hear whatever passed as romance between those two. It was nearly half-past four, late even for her to be coming back. Preferring silence to being able to breathe, I dragged out of bed, lethargic from the heat, and was about to slam shut the window when I caught bits of their conversation floating up.

"It's nearly morning, it will be light soon..."

"And who cares?"

"My parents, for one. A girl has to worry about her reputation, you know..." her voice was light, playful.

"I'm not worried about your reputation." There was a long silence, and then, "You're all right, aren't you Bella?"

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

She laughed, a hard-edged, jagged sound that cut like glass. "Don't you know me at all?"

I closed the window quickly, but quietly, not wanting them to know I'd heard. I didn't want to hear any more. I went back to bed, and to the childish defense of pretending I was asleep. I told myself I had no idea what they were talking about, but Bella was so deeply involved in dark magic by that time that it didn't take divination skills to guess.

A few minutes later I heard her soft "Alohomora" and then she climbed in my window and landed on my bed, bouncing me, apparently intending to wake me up.

"It was open," I told her, not moving or opening my eyes, but admitting I was awake. She sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, since I was awake and she gave no indication of being the least bit tired, apparently we were going to talk. I reluctantly turned to see her.

She was flushed with excitement, eyes bright, almost too bright, to the point of madness rather than mere happiness. Despite her pose of relaxing, excitement seemed to buzz around her. Whatever she had been doing, she looked the worse for wear, a tear in the shoulder of her dress, her hair in tangles, and faint smear of something on her cheek that could have been mud or blood. I didn't want to know which.

"Where have you been?"

She directed a mock-stern look at me. "Don't be a bore Andy, you're not nearly as innocent as you let on."

"I never claimed to be. Do you really think I'm surprised, or particularly care, who you're sleeping with? But do you really expect me to believe you got like that," I waved vaguely to indicate her appearance, "as the result of a romantic tryst?"

"Depends on how good a tryst it was…"

I didn't smile, and she started to look annoyed, apparently having hoped I'd share her euphoric mood.

"What did you do, Bella?"

She sighed, and leaned back, some of the bright glow fading, her smile languid, but cruel. "Don't ask questions you don't really want answered."

We were back at Grimmauld Place the next week-end. It was actually the Vaiseys who were giving a ball. They were recently married and quite young, and it seemed Aunt Walburga had taken Euphemia Vaisey under her wing and was eager for it to be a success. They lived in London, and since Narcissa and I were too young to apparate and nobody wanted to floo in dress robes, it was simply easier for us to be staying there.

We could feel the tension as soon as we stepped in the house, and as soon as our parents were out of hearing Regulus moaned that Sirius had been constantly either sulking or picking fights. With several hours until we really needed to get ready for the ball, we found him in the drawing room, staring moodily at the family tree tapestry. Still angry at him, I was worried about him.

"Well, if it isn't the political agitator himself," said Bella cheerfully.

"Piss off Bella."

"Language, Sirius. Why so unhappy? Missing your little Gryffindor boyfriends?" When he didn't answer she ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. It was something she had done before when he was younger, but now she was mocking, and he smacked her hand away. "I do hope you outgrow this little rebellious phase you're going through, it's getting tiresome."

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but that was the only indication he was angry, or even that he heard her, and she looked frustrated. She had always been able to move him to emotion, even if that emotion was anger. Now, people will compare Sirius to me, because we both ended up running away, but in so many ways, she was the one he was the most like. There was a darkness to Sirius that Bella brought out, tried to draw out. There was a time he could have gone either way, without his friends he might have taken her path.

The Vaiseys' ball was much like any other, so it might be said it was a success for the young Mrs. Vaisey. I was bored and restless, but still had no shortage of dance partners, though I couldn't have been a particularly charming companion, my mind on other things. According to an amused postcard I'd received from Adrienne on holiday in Greece, her cousin Guillame was quite taken with me, declaring me "une belle et charmante fille," despite the vast disadvantage of my being English, and I was dancing with him when I saw Sirius leave the ballroom, looking furious. To Guillame's disappointment, I excused myself and followed him, not sure what I meant to do to help but wanting to make sure he didn't do anything reckless.

I was not the only one who had seen him leave, and Aunt Walburga had beaten me to the room he had withdrawn to. If asked, Sirius would say he hated his Mother. I would too, and not without some truth. But neither of us could deny the fact that your Mother can hurt you like no one else, no matter how you profess not to care. I could hear her scolding him.

"…embarrass me, and this family!"

"I don't give a damn what you think, or what they think," his voice returned.

"What did we do wrong that you'd lower yourself to the level of mudbloods? Blacks are not blood-traitors."

"I've had enough of this, of you and your pure-blood mania, of thinking you're better than anyone else. Lily Evans is a muggle-born and she's a better person and better witch than any of you. I hate this. I hate you."

"You've been a disappointment since the day you were born, and it was just confirmed when you were sorted into Gryffindor. You don't deserve to be called a Black," his mother hissed.

I drew back into the shadows, and he didn't even see me as he slammed out of the room and down the darkened hall back toward the ballroom.

He must have flooed back to Grimmauld Place, for I didn't see him the rest of the night but when we got back he was there. Neither of his parents seemed inclined to deal with him then, but we saw the flickering light of a fire in the library. I wanted to go to bed, but Bella seemed inclined to talk to him, and I stayed with her, although not sure how I intended to smooth things over, I felt like it was all coming to a head, and something was going to happen to settle things, for better or worse.

He was staring into the fire, drinking, and gave us merely a dull look when we came in.

"Nice party?"

"Shut up," spat Bella. "Do you have no idea what it means to be a Black?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Bellatrix," he snapped back.

She seized him by the shoulder, pulling him from his leisurely position on the couch, her wand in her hand.

"Bella, don't-" I said, my voice sounding weak and insubstantial even to me. It didn't matter, neither of them were listening to me.

"How can you betray us, betray everything you are? Are they worth it to you, Sirius? Your little mudblood-loving friends? You'd betray your family?"

He whirled, backing her against the wall. I saw it flash in her eyes then, she could kill him, if she wanted to, and for a moment I thought she would.

"You are not my family," he said, his voice a low growl.

"You have a duty. To this family, and our world. This is your obligation. Your birthright."

For a moment, it hung on the air between them, both a challenge and a plea.

"I owe this family nothing."

He released her roughly, and turned and walked out of the room. She stared after him, eyes bright. Tears would never fall, they were a weakness that was not in her nature, especially not then, but they welled in her eyes.

I didn't sleep that night, I doubt anyone did, and in the darkest part of the night, those moments when it seems like it will never get light again, we heard faint voices drifting up the stairs, too soft to even make out words. I got up silently, ignoring Cissy who grabbed the back of my shirt and whispered "let them fight it out Andy."

There was only one figure sitting at the foot of the stairs, black hair illuminated by the faint glow of the torches left burning to keep guests from pitching down the stairs in the darkness. He was sitting on the bottom step, knees drawn up and head bent. When I sat next to him, Regulus looked up at me, eyes dry but stark pain showing in them, and lines of worry in his face no fourteen-year-old should show.

"He's gone."

Note about stuff: In a review for the last chapter, a reader mentioned I should consider, for the future, whether or not Nymphadora is an only child (incidentally, I think she is and I have a theory about why that I won't bore you with now...) but it reminded me of something I decided awhile ago and never mentioned- this story is not going to go that far. It will end when they leave school. Why? This story, for all I've given Ted a starring role because I love him, is about her relationship with her sisters, and that effectively ends when she runs off and gets married.

Also, I've fudged the timeline to suit my purposes, and that becomes more of an obvious problem when Nymphadora is born.

Also, I have a notoriously short attention span. I'm frankly surprised I've lasted this long.

Now before anyone goes off in a snit and decides they're going to stop reading, remember she's got two years left of school, and take my word for it, all the good stuff (wink wink nudge nudge) will happen before they leave school.