Little Talks
On the top floor of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Siria Potter-Black stood against the wall with her eyes watching her feet. Her father sat in a plain, wooden dining chair, watching her with an apologetic look on his face. It was her first time seeing Sirius's room, which was violently gold and red for Gryffindor, his old House at Hogwarts and her current one. Gryffindors are said to be a brave lot and Siria seldom felt she had been missorted, but this was one of those times.
"So, I… that is to say," Sirius scratched his chin and looked to the towering bookshelf beside him. It was overflowing with parenting books. He straightened up in his chair. "Siria, do you remember the talk Remus and I had after your first menstrual cycle?" Siria fake gagged in reply. "Hey, it's normal— both the cycle and the, er," Sirius coughed a muffled word into his hand. "Well, I'm not particularly… what I mean is, I—" Sirius held his head in his hands and ruffled his fine, black hair while he growled.
"Siria!" Sirius rose to his feet. "I love you. It is just as normal for you to like Travers as it is for you to have liked Nate. It's normal if you think they're attractive, if you want to date them or kiss them— even if they're Pureblood. You're more than who like."
"What about you?" Siria whispered. Sirius pressed his hand to his mouth while he thought how to word what he had been trying to say. "Do you like Chloes or Remuses or both or neither?" Sirius quietly clicked his tongue.
"What would you do if I said I didn't really like either?"
"If you're happy not liking either, then I'll drop it." Siria stared intently at the floor. "I just want you to be happy." Sirius placed a hand on her shoulder and lifted her head.
"And that's all I want for you."
She didn't know why, but tears broke from Siria's eyes and she threw her arms around Sirius. He patted her back and let her cry. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you!" She sobbed.
"Oh, my dear Siria" he soothed. "I understand." He patted her wild hair until she calmed down. "There we go," Sirius smiled as he smeared her tears around her face. "All better." Siria knocked his hand away to wipe her nose on her sleeve.
"Do you think Hermione'll be upset?" Siria asked.
"Hermione's a good friend. If anything, I imagine she's more worried she's upset you."
Hermione sat on a cushion, on top of the artic blue bookshelf, watching the doorway. The moment Siria was in sight, Hermione ran and hugged her. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know!" She loosened the hug to look at Siria. "I mean, I thought that you might because Travers gets you so tongue-tied and you and Daphne are really close, and you hardly talk about boys, but are open about who you think is pretty and—"
"Hermione!" Siria stopped her. "I like both, okay. So, if you want to go home…"
"Why?" Hermione looked taken aback. "You're my best friend. It doesn't matter who you like, unless you're mad at me? Are you?"
"No! Not at all!" Siria cried. Hermione pulled Siria back into a tight hug.
"I love you." Hermione whispered.
"I love you too!" Sirai choked as she tried to stifle her tears.
Much of the rest of Hermione and Siria's time with Sirius was the busiest either of them had ever had— including when Hermione took every subject last year and needed a Time Turner to attend them all. There wasn't a moment of relaxation. During the days, if they weren't at Moony & Padfoot, they were being mentored by Chloe at the flat on Baker Street, unless they were Neville's, convincing his grandmother to let him attend the Quidditch World Cup and that it was no problem at all to have him along. Every night they were guided by Remus or Sirius in dueling, being taught how to cook by Kreacher, and powering through one of Sirius's computer programs on skills he insisted were priceless.
Hermione and Siria had taken to writing their replies in the car. They wrote them with pens on lined paper and then had to send a notebook and pen to each of the Purebloods who couldn't understand how the letters had been written. Astoria had been so taken she had shown Daphne who "tried not to show her excitement, but really likes them." Colin had apparently sent her a pack of colored pens and Astoria celebrated by writing everyone a letter with her sentences in rotating colors.
(Book: B4, 1-15 Tom Riddle/Voldemort & Peter Pettigrew/Wormtail are at the Riddle House. They discuss their plan, which involves the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament. Bertha Jorkins was instrumental in their plan and has been killed. The gardener, Frank, overheard their plans, but Nagini, Voldemort's snake, has seen him. Voldemort kills Frank. Siria wakes with her hands pressed to her scar, in pain)
In a cold sweat, Siria flew up. Kreacher was on the the end of her bed, with Hermione and Sirius on either side of her. Hermione immediately threw her arms around Siria's neck. "Is Mistress okay?" Kreacher croaked.
"Just a nightmare." Siria winced while she rubbed her scar, which still felt like it was burning.
"Siria," Sirius's tone was calm and level. He sat on the edge of the bed. "I need you to tell me what happened, so I know how to help."
"My scar hurts." She murmured into the quiet room where three pairs of anxious eyes were watching her. Siria sighed. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. "I already hardly remember it."
"What do you remember?" Hermione asked.
Siria pressed her hands to eyes then sighed before she began. "Tom and Pettigrew were in this big, creepy house and talking about murdering me." She sighed again. It wasn't unheard of for Tom Riddle to want her dead, but trying to kill her had historically been his downfall. She got the lightning bolt scar on her forehead from Tom's Killing Curse bouncing off of her and hitting him. "They were talking about some lady they killed and…" the more she tried to remember about the conversation, the more the dream seemed to escape her. "Tom's 'most faithful servant' will rejoin… and they killed some guy" Siria groaned and rubbed her eyes. "It was just a nightmare."
Worry weighed heavily in Sirius's tired grey eyes. They silently added to her suspicion that it hadn't been a dream at all— that she, Siria Potter-Black, had somehow seen who knows how many miles away to what the Dark Lord himself was doing. Hermione's small hand patted on Siria's back. "It'll be okay. I'm sure there's something on old curse scars hurting. Professor Dumbledore may know something too, or Madam Pomfrey."
"Yeah." Siria nodded with her head still on her knees.
"Why don't we head to the office?" Sirius proposed. "Hermione hasn't been and we can grab breakfast on our way to the optometrist."
"That sounds great!" Hermione nodded and looked to Siria.
"What about Kreacher?" Siria asked.
"Kreacher will be home with a feast, for when Mistress returns." He smiled one of his large, gummy grins at her. She extend a hand to hold his for a moment. The small, blue-grey fingers were warm and reassuring. Siria closed her eyes, squeezed Kreacher's hand and took a deep, swelling breath. "I can't wait."
The talk from Number Twelve was a mix of explaining the Fidelius Charm to Hermione and her arguing that Kreacher should be set free. "We tried!" Sirius groaned. "He threw himself on the floor and sobbed. Siria spent an hour lying to Kreacher and saying I was joking."
"But what about the Dobby's of the world!" Hermione insisted again.
"Kreacher isn't a Dobby!" Siria snapped. "He's very loved and he's treated well. If he would let Sirius, he'd be paid— paid Hermione." Siria rubbed her fingers on an imaginary Galleon. "We could afford it."
"Well there are more cases like Dobby out there." Hermione told her. "Not to mention the way other creatures are treated. Why do you think there have been so many goblin rebellions?"
"Hermione, if it bothers you that much, why don't you do something?" Siria asked. "If you make a petition, I'll sign; if you want to write letters or Howlers, I'll do them with you, but, if this really bugs you so much, change it."
"I will!" Hermione clicked her tongue, crossed her arms, and turned away from Siria.
"Good!" Siria snapped at the back of Hermione's head and turned away as well.
When they returned to the office, it looked as though it had been ransacked. Someone had practically thrown half a rainbow of bolts of tulle, lace, chiffon, jersey, and satin across the floor. It looked like someone had careless dumped out jars of beads onto one of the desks, and most of the beads had rolled onto the floor. In the very center of the room were three mannequins, two with mostly finished dresses, one blue and one emerald, and one with a set of fine, black robes that had been lined and trimmed in gold.
Chloe knelt on a stool, with pins pressed between her lips while she fastened more bronze lace to the blue dress. Her headphones were so loud that they could make out some of the words. She hadn't noticed them arrive. Sirius placed a finger to his lips, not that Chloe could have heard anything they might have said. He flicked the switch, which caused the lights to slowly dim, before he flicked it back on and the light steadily returned. Chloe took the needles from her mouth and looked around.
At the top of her lungs, to be louder than the music in her ears, she shouted. "I'M NOT DONE!" Sirius just tapped his ears. Chloe clicked her tongue, but pulled her phone out and paused her music. "You weren't supposed to see them until I finished!" Chloe snapped. She looked to Hermione and Siria then rolled her eyes. "Fine!" Chloe waved for them to come closer. Hermione took Siria's hand so she wouldn't fall in the obstacle course of bolts and loose fabric.
"Are these for us?" Siria asked while she admired the emerald dress. She reached toward the fabric of the dress, with her eyes on Chloe, who nodded. Siria had learned just yesterday to only touch a designer's, or at least Chloe's, work if they gave the okay. She stroked the emerald fabric and took in the dress.
"Why am I Slytherin?" she asked. "I mean, this one's for me, right?"
"I hadn't even realised." Sirius confessed. "We made Hermione Ravenclaw." He clicked his tongue. "And Ron is Hufflepuff. You shouldn't have let me pick the color scheme!"
"What is happening?" Chloe asked. She looked to the three other faces in the room.
"They're different programs at our school." Hermione told her. "Each is designed to help us focus on the things we value most— Slytherins are ambitious and cunning, so it really fits Siria."
"I'm a Gryffindor" Siria muttered while she admired the silver interior of her dress. "'Cause I'm brave," she looked over her glasses, at Sirius, "like my parents."
Sirius cracked a smile while he rolled up a bolt of fabric. Hermione grinned at Siria, who glared until Hermione looked back to the blue dress. "While you're too brave for your own good, you're also very cunning." Hermione noted, "You'd have never gotten people to stop bullying Malfoy or figured out the Riddle, in our second year."
"To be fair, Ms. Ravenclaw, you figured out the Riddle, and I just made more trouble for him." Siria sighed. She looked to Chloe. "So, I kind of love it." She confessed. "When can I try it on?"
"When it's done." Chloe knocked Siria's hand away from the waist.
Chloe fidget with the waist on Siria's dress. It was made of a silver tulle that had been adorned with tiny, twinkling white-silver beads. They reminded Siria of stars. In a normal and calm pace, which was slow for Chloe, she asked "So, you're all in Gryffindor?"
"Yeah." Siria nodded while she stepped back. "Red and gold, the grand and bold— don't change a thing though!" Siria insisted. "I don't know when I'll get to wear it, but it'll be like a smack to the face to some people."
"And Astoria will love it— she still thinks you like Malfoy."
"So I've read." Siria sighed.
The very thought of Astoria's letters was both encouraging and exhausting. If anyone wanted to write more letters of quality than Astoria Greengrass, a Slytherin student who would be entering her second year, they would be extremely hard pressed to do so. Even though they had just finished the second week of summer, Astoria had written Siria three letters of no less than four pages. To be fair, the last page was usually a list of questions on things from Transfiguration to if Siria and Daphne, Astoria's older sister, were best friends or just friends.
Astoria was the reason that Siria received twenty letters in the two days after her adoption— Astoria had told everyone in the study group and most had written to congratulate her. Everyone had even been told she was now Potter-Black and addressed their letters as such. There was a very small part of Siria that felt, if she had met Slytherins like Astoria, she might not have told the Sorting Hat to put her in a different House.
Siria looked from her dress to Hermione and the blue dress. "There are times I can't believe we're in the same House." Siria confessed. Hermione smiled at her.
"I may have put in a request," a blush colored Hermione's cheeks, as if asking to be in a certain House was rebellious.
"Metoo." Siria grumbled through closed teeth.
"Hm?"
"I said 'cool'!" Siria turned away from the dresses and practically power walked to Sirius's side. "So, these don't look like Christmas dresses…" he smirked and tapped her nose. She was a little surprised when all Sirius said in reply was "Observant, as usual."
When the sun rose, Chloe let the girls try the dresses on. She managed not to prick them while she pinned the dresses for adjustments. Sirius confessed it was a miracle because she regularly stuck a pin through him. They invited Chloe for breakfast, but she insisted there was too much work. Just before Sirius closed the door, Chloe shouted after them "don't forget! You two promised me a pair of hands!" Sirius groaned and let the door close.
Without needing to be asked, Sirius answered. "Remus won't be going to the World Cup with us. To be fair, we had told Chloe we were going camping."
"And Christmas?" Siria asked.
"You'll want to stay at Hogwarts." He replied. Siria crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "If you want to know, you'll have to seal your lips." Sirius mimed zipping his mouth closed.
"Your 'Cocoloquim Signal'?" Siria asked him while she mimicked waving a wand.
"Colloquium Signati," He corrected. Siria turned to Hermione.
"He made a spell that makes it so people can't talk about what's said." Siria explained.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'd love to see that."
"Okay," Sirius nodded and looked to Siria, "But you'll be making an Unbreakable Vow too."
"What? Why?"
After breakfast, the optometrist, another trip to Moony & Padfoot, they finally returned to Grimmauld Place for Kreacher's feast. Siria waited until they finished cleaning up. She looked over the rim of her glasses, at Hermione, who nodded. With eyes turned away, as if to say she was only casually interested, Siria said "Oh, yeah. You never said why Chloe's making the dresses."
"Colloquium Signati," Sirius told her, flatly.
"To be fair, I would rather like to see it." Hermione confessed.
"We won't be able to tell anyone— can't even talk to each other." Siria said while she took hold of Kreacher's hand.
Hermione said that was perfectly fine with her. The four retired to the small library, where Sirius explained how he and Remus spent years after Siria's parents died, working on a spell to prevent that. They designed the spell to stop the sealed topic from being brought up or added to. If a person outside the sealed topic brought it up, anyone who had the topic sealed couldn't add to the conversation, nod, or even shake their head. So far, they had only used it to prevent Moony & Padfoot designs from being leaked and when they tested it on themselves.
Inside, Siria knew she should be impressed with the spell. Afterall, it was the result of years of her father's and his best friend's lives, but that was what bothered her. Remus and Sirius were practically haunted by the deaths of James and Lily Potter. For as impressed as she felt she should be, she was worried that Remus and Sirius wouldn't recover… she was worried that, when Tom Riddle inevitably returned and murders began, she wouldn't recover.
"Now, Siria, Unbreakable Vow." Sirius directed his attention to his daughter.
"No!" Siria pouted and plopped herself over Hermione's lap. She buried her head into the arm of the chair. "What if I really, really, really want to do the thing?"
"I'll die of worry." He crossed his arms.
"Come on," Sirius managed to wrestle Siria onto her feet. He knelt down and took her hand; she looked to Hermione, sighed, and mirrored Sirius. Hermione stood over them, with her wand pulled out.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.
"I really want to know and not knowing will drive me crazy." Siria confessed. Sirius made her vow that she would not sign up and would not have someone else sign her up for the event he was about to inform them of. Siria sighed, groaned, and rolled her eyes, but agreed to both things.
"Alright then," Sirius patted her on the shoulder and rose to his feet. "Ready?" Sirius asked. Siria nodded while she leaned against the armchair where Hermione sat. He pointed his wand at Siria first and, with the motion of a "S" circling back up to its top, he clearly stated "Col-lo-quium Sig-nati," then the same to Hermione. Sirius grinned like a child with a new toy.
"Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament." Sirius informed them. Siria gave him a bored look that read "so?" but Hermione gasped.
"That's so dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed and looked from Sirius to Siria. "I'd have you make an Unbreakable Vow too."
"Okay, but, aside from dangerous, what is the Triwizard Tournament?" Siria asked. Hermione seized the reigns of the conversation.
"It's a competition, of sorts, between Beauxbaton, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts— Europe's most prominent Wizarding schools. A champion is chosen from each school to compete in a series of tasks to test things like their courage, wits, and general spell ability." She explained to Siria while Sirius nodded along and Kreacher dusted the shelves with disinterest. "Oh! The dresses are for the Yule Ball! Of course." Hermione nodded. "On Christmas, a feast is hosted, followed by the Ball, which is meant to highlight the most important purpose of the Tournament— unity and forming good relations."
Sirius fiddled with the papers on his desk for a moment long enough to tell Siria he had stopped listening. "Right," he nodded to Hermione. "The Yule Ball. Maybe Travers will come to her senses and go with you." Sirius smiled to his daughter. She rolled her eyes and sat on the floor, against the bookshelf.
"Her senses are fine." Siria pulled Kreacher into her lap and cradled him like he was a large toddler. "I'm kind of over her…" she hoped more than she knew. After talking with Sirius and Hermione, she felt now, more than ever, that she didn't stand a chance.
Kreacher smiled a large grin up at Siria and patted her arm. "Mistress will get better partner." He assured her. She nuzzled the top of her head to his and smiled back.
"Thank you, Kreacher."
"We could always go together." Hermione suggested. "You, me, Ron, and Neville."
"Neville!" Siria stopped nuzzling Kreacher and looked, wide-eyed to Hermione. "I gotta get him a birthday gift!" One would think, with Neville sharing her birthday, Siria would know it well. Somehow, she always seemed to forget it when it during the summer, but remember in the fall.
Sirius clicked his tongue and waved his finger in a tsking manner. With a wave of his wand and "Finis!" Sirius ended where the conversation would be sealed to. "Now then, no worries, daughter dearest. Your father happens to have an extra ticket for the Quidditch World Cup. Even if he were going, there no way his Gran' got Top Box seats."