AN: This chapter would've been out much earlier, but I fell victim to a pinched nerve and lost most of the feeling in my right hand, making typing a bit difficult. Thankfully, it's almost back to normal. Thanks to reviewers ruby2360, lavanyalabelle, Arachne's Quill, mndstjohn, Nixie the Bloody Pixie, Sorasdream, TotalPotterInsanity, Spaz86, Bloody-Rozez, yachiru-chan92, Majerus, TroyWeb, urs-v, ultima-owner, MuggleCreator, Iwa Shinju, ReadPaxJoy, Fibinaci, Ari989, Akuma no Amy, Kairan1979, Zaion Indulias, Tellur, Lady Sabine of Macayhill, and MariusDarkwolf. I WILL respond to reviews this time.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
Nutrition, Cleansing, Calming, Strengthening, Pepper Up, one piece of whole wheat toast, a glass of water, and just a dab of honey on the side. Harry had prepared this same tray every morning since they'd started living at Grimmauld Place. The lunch tray contained the same potions and a sandwich. The evening tray held the aforementioned potions, Dreamless Sleep, and the rest of whatever Burbage had made the night before. She and Lupin (who seemed to have let slip that none of them could, or would, cook) often offered to do the simple task for him, but Harry liked doing it himself, and he had an inkling that Sirius liked him doing it as well.
As usual, he carefully held the tray with two hands, keeping one wary eye on the glass of water. The floor creaked with every step he took, and he could practically feel the house shudder whenever he stomped his feet. The stairway, like always, proved to be slightly daunting, with narrow, short steps. He climbed to the topmost landing, ignoring the leering portraits as he went. Hopefully, work would start on the upper floors soon.
Adjusting the tray in his arms, he rapped gently on the door to Sirius' bedroom. Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door. Harry turned around while he waited, casting one of many curious glances toward the bedroom across the hall, belonging to one Regulus Arcturus Black. Remus had said that this was Sirius' brother, and warned him not to ask about it. Harry had been tempted several times since then to do so, but he restrained himself.
"Harry." Sirius always looked surprised to see him, but Harry never mentioned it. "Come on in, then."
Harry grinned and handed the older man the tray. Sirius' room, though old and dark, had a bit more personality than any other place in the house. Pictures of scantily clad muggle girls were tacked up all over the walls, along with a few motorcycle pictures. Harry's favorite part by far, however, was the picture of three teenage boys in Gryffindor robes. He pretended not to notice the burn mark on the edge of the photo, preferring to act as though there had never been more than three Marauders.
"Y'know, you really don't have to keep coming up and bringing me food," Sirius started conversationally, already wolfing down the toast.
"Would you come and get some food if I didn't?" Harry countered, smile slipping off his face.
Sirius ignored his question. "Haven't seen Remus lately. How's that new job of his going?" He picked up the Calming Draught first.
"He seems to like it. I think it's kind of boring, really, but he's happy." Remus had found a job at a muggle bookstore in Newham. Harry had been there once or twice, and while he didn't dislike the place, the monotony had gotten to him after a mere ten minutes. It just wasn't exciting in there!
Sirius barked a laugh. "I bet. He talked about books nonstop last time he came up. Wouldn't stop recommending a bunch…"
"He took the day off today. We're heading into Diagon Alley to pick up my school books. Did—did you wanna come with?" Harry asked haltingly, hardly daring to hope.
Sirius froze for a brief second. "Nah, I'm…I'm good, thanks. I've, uh, been meaning to start on going through some of the old things in here." He gestured vaguely about the room before brightening. "But listen to me, an old man going on about cleaning! If James could see me now…I'm sure you want to get going then, eh Harry?" Sirius flashed him a smile.
"Erm…" Somehow, their talks always ended like this, with Sirius deciding that Harry had better things to do than hang around Sirius' room. "I should probably get ready," He acquiesced, nodding and moving towards the door. "But Sirius, if you want to come with, you can," He offered again, not bothering with seeing Sirius' reaction.
"You go enjoy yourself, yeah?" Sirius had moved on, downing the glass of water in three quick gulps.
"Yeah." It wasn't until Harry had shut the door behind him that he realized that, again, Sirius hadn't mentioned Burbage at all.
"What's a good name for a bee, Ginny?"
"I'm afraid I've no clue. What about you, Demelza?"
"Oh, I'm no good at naming things. If Colin would hurry up and get here, maybe he would know."
Three girls, rather different in looks, lay sprawled out on a red and white checkered blanket in the middle of an orchard. A bee buzzed around over their heads, eagerly nudging the apple blossoms surrounding them. The blonde girl extended her arm and held her hand quite still, waiting patiently. The bee continued to fly about for a little longer, though it finally deigned to perch itself atop her finger for less than a second.
"It's too bad we're always at Hogwarts in the fall," Demelza mused. "We could just sit here and eat apples all day."
"We'll have to do it after Hogwarts then, won't we?" Ginny rolled over onto her stomach and picked up a Chocolate Frog package.
"Do you think we'll still be friends after Hogwarts?" Demelza wondered, propping her head up with her hand.
Ginny blinked at her with surprise. "Well of course. Who else would we be friends with?"
"Is that Colin?" Luna spoke at last, arm still outstretched. "Only, I think I hear two sets of feet. Did he say he'd bring someone?"
"No," Ginny said slowly, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "No, he didn't."
"I suppose that could be his shadow, then, but it would be very hard to walk as a shadow in an orchard, I should think." Luna smiled as the bee came within an inch of her hand.
From out of the trees and into the clearing came Colin and a very small boy who looked a great deal like him. This, Ginny surmised, must've been Colin's little brother Dennis. Colin had a sour expression on his face, and stayed absolutely silent. In contrast, Dennis gazed at everything with sheer wonder, chattering on excitedly. Ginny refused to laugh at his enthusiasm; he reminded her of the first year version of Colin, who hadn't yet understood how to act normal. Not that this thirteen year old Colin did, but he had improved a bit.
"If that is his shadow, he's not very good at it," Luna observed, staring at the pair. Ginny had no doubt that she saw the two upside down, but Luna remained where she was.
"Luna, I don't think that's his shadow." Demelza rolled her shoulders and stood, Ginny joining her not a moment later. Colin flashed them a pained smile upon seeing them, but Dennis hadn't noticed the girls yet.
"And what about the moving staircases? Could someone fall off one of them?" He continued. Colin didn't reply, settling for raising an eyebrow and bringing his camera to his face. Ginny gave a quick nod, and the now familiar flash shocked Dennis into silence, making him turn slowly to face the girls.
"Dennis, these are some of my friends," Colin began easily, letting his camera drop and hang from his neck. "That's Luna on the blanket there, this is Demelza, and that's Ginny. Guys, this is my brother Dennis. He just got his Hogwarts letter."
"Congratulations," Ginny told him. Dennis stared at her with wide eyes.
"So, what were you doing?" Colin asked, crossing over to sit next to Luna.
"Waiting for you," Demelza replied simply.
Dennis was still staring at Ginny. "Um," She began hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
He blinked once, twice, three times before shaking his head roughly. "Uh…"
"Colin," She whispered frantically, joining him on the blanket. "Is he alright?"
Colin turned, studied his brother, and shrugged. "Dunno. He's kind of odd, to be honest. I don't understand why he does anything."
Luna stretched her hand up a little further. "Colin, what's a good name for a bee?"
He glanced up. The bee buzzed right near his nose, and he held himself completely still. "Bernard," He decided finally, waiting for it to fly away. "Bernard the bee."
"Alliterative." Demelza nodded appreciatively. "I figured you'd come up with a good one."
"Colin, he's still staring at me," Ginny muttered.
"Does it bother you?" Colin mumbled back.
Ginny could've hexed him. Honestly, for a Vice-President, he could be rather thick at times. "Yes, it bothers me. Can't you do something about it?" She urged him.
Colin heaved a loud sigh. "Dennis, stop staring."
Dennis squeaked and began blushing furiously, but thankfully averted his eyes. Wonder what that's about, Ginny thought, risking one last look at him before focusing back on her friends. "The World Cup's coming soon. Dad said I could bring two friends," She said, hoping one would gracefully bow out so she wouldn't have to choose.
"Daddy and I will be vacationing in Luxembourg," Luna announced suddenly. "We were sent an anonymous tip by a reader that Fudge had been hiding his legion of Quintapeds there. He's taken them away from their home and trained them to obey his every whim." She adopted a sad expression for this last bit. "It's rather unfortunate."
"Yes, I can see how it might be considered as such," Colin said faintly.
"I can't come either," Demelza told her regretfully, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's Mum's birthday, and I've missed the last two because I was here. She'd absolutely kill me if I missed another."
Ginny froze. If only Colin could make it, then she had an extra seat available. But Dennis was standing right there…she really didn't want to do this, but it was the polite thing to do, wasn't it? "Colin, if you want to bring Dennis along…"
Colin frowned at her. "Dennis, you wanna come with?" Dennis nodded frantically, eyes wide. He cast several conspicuous glances in Ginny's direction, ears burning bright red.
"I'll tell Dad, then." Ginny's heart sank. Dennis was weird. While Colin had a strange love of photography, he at least made sense in his reactions. He understood how to keep things quiet, as well as the wonder of the national treasure that was Harry Potter. Dennis just…stared.
"I was thinking, maybe we should change the name back again. Because, I don't think the whole 'helping' thing went as planned." Demelza stretched her arms up and fell back on the ground. "Especially after what happened with Snape."
The four soon-to-be third years fell silent. That…hadn't gone too well, Ginny reflected ruefully. She was pretty sure that they'd only messed things up in their attempt to aid Harry Potter. "Let's not do that again. Maybe we should settle for admiring from afar."
Colin and Demelza nodded in agreement. Luna hummed, tracing the outline of the clouds with her finger. Dennis stared.
"We'll take an official vote when we get back," She continued, "but I think everyone will agree that it was an unnecessary change. Especially Baddock."
She, Colin, and Demelza traded knowing grins. Baddock had moaned and grumbled about the name change, claiming that as a Slytherin, he had no chance of being able to help Harry Potter without being hexed in his sleep by housemates. His concerns had been echoed by many members in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, though admittedly without nearly as much violence.
"I'm afraid Daddy expects me back for lunch." Luna sat up and beckoned Bernard over, capturing him in a jar. "I'll let you out as soon as we're home," She whispered to the jar, covering it and standing. "I'm sure I'll see you all some other time. It was nice meeting you, Dennis."
Dennis started at being addressed before smiling. "You too, Luna."
Ginny scowled. So he was just fine talking to Luna, but he couldn't say a word to her? Well, she'd figure out a way to make him open up. It might take a while, but she'd get there.
The door was laughing at him again. Whenever he felt bored, it taunted him. He was frightened of it—him, a wizard, rendered helpless by a stupid old door. His only consolation was that at least the door felt familiar. With its peeling paint and twisted features, it reminded him of home. Ironic, since he'd never considered this place home until it was nearly gone.
He took a hesitant step forward. The door jeered at him. Spinning on his heel, he made for the window instead. If he looked carefully and angled himself just right, he could see the sidewalk, and beyond it lay the world waiting patiently for him. If only it had been kind enough to do so the other time he'd been prisoner, though admittedly that had gone much worse. This imprisonment was one of his own volition. His one bright spot was Harry, who, coincidentally, led to him hiding in this room in the first place.
The front door slammed. He jumped, grabbing the new wand (his new wand, he reminded himself) and dashing up to the bothersome door. His mother's portrait screamed loudly, the words barely registering with him. He didn't hear a voice answering, but the curtain rings squealed as they moved along the rod. He waited for someone to call out, but the house stayed eerily silent. He gulped audibly. Remus and Harry always called out his name and told him they were home. The logical conclusion, then, was that whoever entered wasn't Harry or Remus.
He fumbled for the ice cold doorknob, gripping the wand—his wand—tightly. The door cackled gleefully, goading him on. If this was someone trying to take him away or, Merlin forbid, hurt Harry, they'd have another thing coming. He might have been in Azkaban for twelve years, but he still knew enough tricks to take a thug out. He quietly muttered a spell to mask his presence, opening the door (Take that, you scrap of wood) and creeping out. He felt a lump in his throat upon looking at Regulus' door before focusing again.
He descended the stairs stealthily, heart hammering in his chest. With one hand clutching the bannister for balance, he kept his wand out in front of him. The wood on the ground floor creaked as the intruder moved about. He frowned. This person wasn't very good at being covert. Then he shrugged. It'd be easier to catch a sloppy criminal, after all. At last, he hit the bottom of the stairs, straining his ears for a sign. A slight rustling came from the kitchen. As he moved closer, he could hear…humming?
He peeked inside the kitchen and let the wand clatter to the floor.
"Oh! Sirius." Charity blinked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry, did I bother you?"
"No," He grunted.
"Oh." She stared at the wand on the floor. He made no move to pick it up. "Did…did you think I was someone else?"
He made a noncommittal noise.
Her face flushed pink as a heavy silence descended on the pair. He allowed his eyes to rove over the new kitchen, with the white cabinets and the mint green walls. She had the windows open, letting in a cool summer breeze. It strangely reminded him of the Potters' house, minus the effortless comfort that came with stepping into the manor. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that this was Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, his childhood home, he might enjoy the new look.
"Would you like lunch?" Her voice wobbled slightly. "Harry and Remus went to Diagon Alley to pick up school things before it got too busy. I could make a sandwich?" She had already moved to the fridge.
He snatched his wand off the floor and sat on a barstool at the island. While her back was turned, he surreptitiously felt the countertop. It was clean and glossy, with different colored specks in it. He was vaguely aware of her chattering on about the renovations, but he remained preoccupied with the changes. The room felt bigger, though he was fairly certain it was the same size. There were little scraps of paper and forgotten things lying around, evidence that people lived here and frequently used the kitchen.
"I hope you like ham," She said quietly, sliding a plate with a large sandwich to him. "I made lemonade yesterday, hang on a second." She turned back and filled him a glass, remembering to hand him his potions at the last moment. "Do you mind if I eat with you?"
He didn't reply. She pulled up a chair to sit across from him. For several minutes they ate, the air filled with crunching sounds. Just as he shoveled the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth, she glanced up, their eyes connecting. He grew uncomfortable, preparing to race back upstairs as quickly as possible.
"Can I speak with you for a minute?" He froze, his hands braced on the counter. "You don't have to," She rushed to add, eyeing his tense posture. He forced himself to relax and listen to what she had to say. Hopefully it wouldn't take long.
Charity took his plate and stacked it on top of hers before placing both in the sink. She seemed to be delaying their conversation for as long as possible, and he was only too happy to oblige.
"I spoke to Remus earlier, and he thinks I'm imagining it, but…I know you don't like me," She whispered. "You don't have to, of course, but I wondered…I'm over here a lot, so I thought it might be a good idea if we clear the air." She wrung her hands anxiously avoiding his eyes.
"Do you and Remus talk about me often?" He questioned curiously.
"No! Well, yes, but—he's worried about you. And frankly, I am too." She grew more confident now, straightening her spine and gazing at him dead-on. "I know you're having trouble adjusting after…Azkaban," She mouthed the word. "But it's not healthy to shut yourself up in your room all day and not talk to anyone."
He ignored her words. "What else do you two talk about?"
"Well—" She grew flustered again. "Lots of things, I suppose. Why?"
"Do you love him?" Sirius asked gravely, dodging her question.
She didn't even hesitate. "Yes, of course. Sirius, what's this about?"
"It's about you and Remus," He replied, in a tone belying that he thought it should have been obvious. "He loves you too, like it's a surprise. Y'know, when we were in Hogwarts, Remus didn't date much. The whole werewolf thing might've been a turn off," He remarked casually. "I'll admit, I'm a bit shocked you stuck around."
She puffed up like a mother dragon, ready to defend herself, when he held up a hand. "Yeah, yeah, you're not that kind of person, why would you do such a thing, I've heard it all before, blondie." She frowned at the nickname. "While I commend you on your Gryffindor bravery and thankfully open mind, one does have to wonder if you entirely understand what you're getting into."
"'Getting into?'" She echoed. "Alright, enlighten me. What exactly am I getting into?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
He grinned. "I knew nobody could be that nice all the time," He muttered to himself, before turning back to her. "Well, let's see. You're probably going to be ostracized from the higher ups in magical society. I can't imagine parents are going to be too happy knowing that the Gryffindor Head of House willingly consorts with a 'half-breed.' He might not ever have a steady job, so all the money-making will be on you. If and when you get married, a Ministry official will be at your wedding."
"Why?" She interrupted, frowning.
"Gotta make sure you aren't being manipulated by the big bad wolf. Standard safety procedure. So, after all that, you still wanna stick around?"
She clenched her jaw. "Yes, I do. Is that all you've got?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Not quite, blondie. We haven't touched upon children."
She jumped, stammering. "Ch-children?"
"Yes. Or, as the Ministry likes to call it, breeding. Very strict laws on all that, I'm afraid. But, between you and me, even if the Ministry allowed werewolves free reign, Remus would never have a child." Here, he paused, growing serious. "He thinks doing so would condemn the child to a life of unhappiness and misery. It's best not to bring it up. You won't be able to change his mind."
Color flooded back into her cheeks. "That's fine. I won't have children."
He snorted at the simple way she stated so. "Oh, I don't doubt you feel that way now. I'm sure you'll still feel that way at the wedding, and for a bit afterwards. But what about five years from now? Ten? Twenty? What if you lay there on your deathbed, wishing you could've had just one child of your own? It might hurt you, but it would destroy Remus."
Her mouth was beginning to quiver. "I understand," She murmured meekly.
"Do you?" He countered. "When you're eighty years old and can no longer have kids, are you going to regret marrying Remus? Are you going to wish that you'd picked someone else? You'll have the Gryffindors, yeah, but they won't stick around forever. You won't be able to see a girl that looks just like you running around getting into trouble. It'll just be you, and then you'll be gone."
"And how is that going to be any different from how things are now?" She snapped at him, whirling away to stare out the window.
His brain stopped and stuttered. "What?"
Her breath hitched lightly, a small whimper escaping her. "I can't have children. I can't now, I couldn't ten years ago, and I won't be able to ten years from now. I get it, okay?" Her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
He stood sharply, moving closer to her. "I—I don't understand."
"When I was eighteen," She began, speaking so quietly his ears strained to pick up her words. "I was at Diagon Alley with a few friends. I—I planned to join the Order, and I was going to tell them after we spent the day together. I thought it might make things a little easier. We were just leaving the apothecary when—when the Death Eaters came."
He reached out a hand to touch her elbow. "You don't have to tell me this," He pleaded, already feeling sick to his stomach.
She continued, with tears rolling down her face. "I hadn't exactly kept quiet about my feelings towards the war. Even then, I was convinced that we should be tolerant of muggles. And it wasn't like there was anything wrong with being a muggleborn. I got a lot of comments from some suspected Death Eaters for it. One time, I said something back. I was trying to be clever, but it only made things worse."
He scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said. You can stop now."
"I said that—that maybe if the purebloods would go have ch-children with…with muggles then maybe we would see improvement in the Wizarding world. I said it to Bellatrix Lestrange, and she…she didn't like it." Charity gave a watery laugh, dabbing at the corner of her eye with a napkin. "She saw me with my friends. The Death Eaters were really only there to scare some of the wizards who opposed them. But when Bellatrix saw me, she—she cursed me." Now Charity stopped talking, to sob loudly.
Sirius looked about wildly for something to do. Hug? Merlin, he didn't know her all that well, but she obviously needed some comforting. He leaned over and awkwardly threw his arm around her shoulders. She cried even harder.
"I—I w-w-went to Healer's, even though I felt fine, and they told me it must've been a spell of her own design. They didn't know how to reverse it. I asked ev-every notable Healer I…I could get a hold of, and they couldn't find a cure. Finally, I went back home and—and stayed in my flat. Dumbledore let me hold off on joining the Order until I felt better. A week later, the war was over."
"Does—does Remus know?" He asked.
"No," She responded softly. "I could barely tell you, I don't know how I'm supposed to tell him…but I guess now you don't have to worry about us being together, huh?"
He opened his mouth to say something before realizing that now was not the time for witty comebacks. "I'm sorry," He told her instead. "For everything, really. And, blondie?" He waited until she wiped her face and looked at him. "I didn't mean it. I've seen you with those kids. They'll still be coming around when they're grandparents."
She granted him a shaky smile. "I hope so. I really, really hope so."
Response to Arachne's Quill: You certainly may use it in your own story. Thanks for asking!