This story is obviously AU--most significantly because I sketched it out before JKR auctioned off the Black family tree, giving us all a history lesson on the Blacks. I'm sticking with the family tree I worked out for BS since some important parts of my story wouldn't make sense otherwise. The most important thing you need to know right now is that Alphard Black is Sirius' father's brother.

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Alphard had asked his daughter to help him hobble into this room last night just so he could wake up to the view through the windows before him. He'd wanted to wake up to the sun on his face, the hill country rolling out for miles before him in waves of green tree tops, the hazy outline of Austin's skyline barely visible in the distance. He'd wanted to see, at the end, the world that Beverly had loved more than any place on earth. One last time, he wanted to see the sun rise over the home she'd drawn him to.

Before he sent their precious girl right back into his world—the world they had run from.

"Adhara…"

His daughter stood from her chair across the room and walked towards him. "Don't call me that. Especially not now."

"Addie, dear…"

"That's not any better, Pops."

"Indulge a dying man's wish to call you by your name, dearest. I've only ever called you what I want to, I'm not about to change in the last moments life has to offer me."

"No, that would be too much to ask." She frowned as she said it—as though truly angry—but he saw her visibly swallow against tears blocking her throat.

"Yes, it would." Alphard would have give anything in the world to stop the pain his daughter felt. But his life was no longer his to give—his debts had been called in and it was a struggle to keep himself here now. And now…now he had to burden her even further.

She collected herself and smiled, her right eyebrow arching a bit as it always did when she went about being 'cute' as her mother used to say. Sarcastic is what he called it.

"It'd be easier to ask you to get up off your rump and help me answer these condolences." She tsked with disgust at the back of her throat. "Can you believe that Marrion West actually had the nerve to send flowers? And mostly carnations—she knows how mother felt about carnations. The old prune."

"Of course I can believe it. Scandalous. It is your name you know."

"Scandalous?"

"Adhara." A well placed spell would burn that quirked eyebrow right off her forehead… "There is still pride in tradition."

She rubbed her hands together quickly several times and then shook them out at her sides—her trademark I-am-a-stubborn-ass-and-will-not-discuss-this-now gesture.

"Your world, your family, Pops. Any speck of pride I might have felt, any wish to be acknowledged and a part of it all, died along with Mom."

"Well in any case it's a precious name, dearest. No one calls out, 'Adhara' in a crowded room to see a hundred heads turn their way. Now bring me the chest. Time is not a luxury anymore."

As Adhara crossed the cavernous living room to lift the chest he'd asked for down from the marble mantle, he kept his gaze on the view outside. The sun had just cleared the trees and in its warmth, he felt Beverly's love surround him again. If it hadn't been for his worry for Addie he'd have left this world and joined his wife then.

Addie sat down beside him on the couch, careful not to disturb him. He tried his best to sit up a bit more, but the pain left him gasping and wheezing.

"It's alright, Dad. I'll open it." She lifted the lid as he leaned back against the pillows, a short burst of air between her two front teeth her only reaction to what she saw inside. Setting the chest on the floor at her feet, she lifted a leather book out, set it in her lap, and ran her hand across the family crest on the front.

'Toujours Pur…" Her whisper was soft but full. Of anger, regret, pain, sadness, and—amazingly enough still—a hint of wistfulness.

"You know how Sirius…" he had to stop for a moment; there were other pains in the world besides the physical, and they never did fade. "How he surprised me when he betrayed the Potters. I suppose his mother was finally happy that he lived up to the family name…But I…it still hurts to think that I could have been so wrong…And even with it all, I wish you had gotten to know him, Addie."

They'd have been twins, those two. Same coloring—skin and hair, same aristocratic Black features. How many times had he heard people tell Addie she looked just like her father, or Sirius that he looked just like his Uncle Alphard? True, Beverly's genes had rounded out some of the sharper Black traits like the chin and the eyes—his girl had lovely soft green eyes instead of the trademark cold gray. But there was a twinkle in Adhara and Sirius' eyes that would have really made them twins, a symmetry in their facial expressions: arched eyebrows, loving smiles, rye smirks. That and their laughs: great, barking, loud laughs. There could never have been enough of that laughter in the world.

"Wouldn't the two of you been a pair—the mischief you could have…" He'd dreamed about his nephew and his daughter pulling pranks together, exploring Hogwarts together. But those were just daydreams and had been even before Sirius had turned on him. His family, the world he had lived in would not have allowed such a friendship—between a pure-blood heir and a blood traitor's half-blood daughter—to exist. Would not have allowed his love for Beverly to exist.

Addie took his hand and squeezed, and he drew in a breath as deeply as he could.

"I wonder if I had been around…if I hadn't abandoned him…"

"You did all you could, Dad. Gave him a shot at independence with the inheritance. Uncle Arcturus was on to you. You had us to think about…"

He patted her hand absently. "Since he's escaped I find myself hoping he will show up here, have found us somehow so that I could ask him…"

"That would have…not been good for us, Dad. And you know it."

"It wouldn't make a difference now. They got Bev anyway."

"Hell, he thinks your dead—everyone thinks you're dead, and…"

"Now, I really am."

Adhara shook her head and tugged her hand away from his grip.

"So a lot of good hiding did us. They turned Sirius; they took your mother just as I'd always feared and now me as well."

"The Healer says…"

"The Healer is wrong, Adhara. And I am more sorry than I can say to be leaving you now, with all of this mess and the even bigger mess I'm about to throw at you." Before she could start with questions he spoke over her. "Sirius may not have found me, but Regulus did."

"Regulus." Her mouth twisted with anger and disgust as she spat out the name.

She never spoke Sirius' name with such revulsion—and that was where the irony lay. Because he knew she took her cues from him as far as the wizarding world was concerned and in her tones he heard how much he still loved Sirius, still believed in him after all he'd done. And that he still condemned Regulus who had been everything Alphard hated but had at least tried to set things right at the end.

"Then that's how they found us, Regulus knew…"

"Regulus has been dead for 16 years, Addie, and we have been here all that time. If he had talked before they killed him, we would all three have been long dead and he would have truly failed."

Addie's eyes narrowed at his last words, but she kept her mouth shut in a thin angry line.

"He left that with me," he pointed to the book in her lap with his chin. "I do not understand it all, and he wouldn't give me an explanation other than it is his own journal from his time with Voldemort. He wanted his notes someplace no one would look for them. Where better than with the dead?"

He smiled at her, and she gave one of her little snorts. Though the angry pinch faded from around her eyes, and she brushed the book's cover once again.

"I thought that I could make use of it, Addie, but I still can't make heads or tales of it. It is too late for me to anyways. I am done for."

Her tears fell then, and she bowed her head so that her black curls hid her face.

"Three days ago I would never have asked you to do what I am about to ask you, Adhara. But we were safe then. If you had been here that night…" It was hard to breath now; trust him to become longwinded at the point in his life that he was out of air.

"But they will be after you now anyway, Addie. For no other reason than I dared love your mother. I can only hope that I've…that…taught you well enough. That if you do die…and you might dearest…that you die…for a…better reason than your blood. That you die as you should…fighting…instead of …like me, hiding. My fondest dream for you was that you get to… to go to Hogwarts. You belonged there Addie. And oh…how I should have…should have…fought to put you there. But I did not and…we ended up right where I made us run from—dead, dying or in danger."

"I don't care about that, Dad. All I wanted was you and mom. I love my life—all of those things…they never meant anything to me. Not like you do." She was the one smiling now, trying to make him forget the regrets of a lifetime. And the beauty of her smile, the kindness in her eyes, the woman she was…it was almost enough to make him forget.

"The lawyers…can handle the big things…the estate etc. You'll need to…get in touch…with them as soon as possible."

"Oh joy."

A laugh began deep in his chest, but it turned into a coughing fit before it could escape. He sighed as she propped him up from behind and held a glass of water to his lips for a drink. His time was here.

"What I would not give for a butterbeer." It was a sigh that he hadn't meant to be heard, but Addie did hear and pulled her wand from her pocket. With a flick she silently conjured a butterbeer. "You have been practicing."

She merely nodded as he took a sip. "I can do a few spells without the wand at all."

His smile was so full of pride she couldn't help but laugh as she sat beside him again and conjured herself a Dr. Pepper.

"Leave here… tomorrow, Addie. Leave it all to my people, including me…"

"No, Dad. I…"

"Do it." He stared her down until she stared at the pull tab on her soda can. "Do…you understand…me?"

She nodded.

"Take Regulus' book, and the trunk you will…find at the foot…of my bed. Anything he mentioned in…those notes, I tracked down from the family…estates. No one has been paying attention…to much… of it as of late. It has all been in limbo since Regulus died …and Sirius…went into Azkaban. It is all… in the trunk along with any papers…you need to contact my lawyers. I need you to take the book and the trunk to Albus Dumbledore."

Her head snapped up and she looked him in the eyes. "To Hogwarts?"

"That is where he will be."

"Well, I always did want to at least see it."

"You will have to…make a stop on… the way, dumpling."

"Ech, Dad, don't call me that either."

"I am trying to give all the pet names one last go…before the…final snuff, pumpkin doodle."

"Lord've mercy."

They smiled at each other over the familiar phrase. How many times had Bev said those same words in her soft southern drawl, exasperated with either one of them?

There was sadness in Addie's smile, but fondness and love as well. It was then that he knew that she had a chance. She was his girl after all and, like he said, she had all the makings of a Gryffindor. But then she'd always had the brains, loyalty, and cunning to be in any of the other houses. It would have been his greatest joy to see where she ended up.

"Go up to New York, Ad, and…go ahead with…the ceremony to… rename… the wing after… your mother. It… has only a… little to… do with… what… you need to do, but it will… make… me… happy to… know… that… it will be done… even though I'm dead."

"Of course, Dad. I'll be sure and bungle my way through a speech and everything. Just so you and Mom can have a good ol' laugh from up above."

"That's my… brisket bunny."

"Dad—please—if you really insist on dying then I have to know…what does that mean?"

"I haven't the… faintest idea… sugar bear. It just is…and…you just… were…well, you were…just… a… brisket bunny… that day."

She laughed then, threw her head back and barked, and it was the greatest gift she could have given him.

"Get… the… Star while you're in New York…and take… it… to Dumbledore… as well. Regulus… mentioned it too."

She nodded and slid to the floor so that she knelt beside the couch. She scooted to the head and kissed him on the brow before laying her head on his chest.

"I'll do my best dad. You know, kick some butt." She hiccupped—or maybe she chocked down a sob. Her next words were whispered. "God help me, I'll make them pay."

He sighed and watched her flinch as she heard the fluid gurgle in his chest. "Littlest… vengeance is not life…and…I would… have… you live. Deliver… these… things… and find… yourself… a… life…to… live. Remember…you are as…much…a...witch…as…you are a…Muggle…no matter how…that…hurts…you…now. Be proud of…all…of…yourself, Adhara."

"I love you, Pops."

"I love you more, Ashland."

She laughed again, squeezing her eyes against tears. And that was how Alphard died for the second and first time—his daughter's laughter ringing in his ears.

"Oh, Dad." She buried her face in his shirt so that no one heard her murmured "Thank you," before the sobs took her over.

And while she planned, packed her bags, said goodbyes and caught her flight to New York, Harry Potter stood in his Headmaster's old office, surrounded by adults who couldn't help him anymore. Who, when it came down to it, never could have. They made plans and arrangements to honor the death of the man that Adhara was supposed to make her deliveries to.

While Harry made plans of his own.