Chapter Thirty-Six
In the days that followed before Harry's hearing, it turned out that he was far too upset with Hermione and Ron to spend quite as much time with them as he had so wanted to, just days before - he was, understandably, rather sullen and was not one for much conversation.
"Sirius," Davie said, walking uninvited into to his room with her arms crossed, looking very concerned. "I can hear everything going on in this house, and I haven't heard Harry say a word for two hours. At that age, you and James couldn't keep your mouths shut for two minutes -"
"Have you tried speaking to him?" Sirius said with a chuckle, chucking a Muggle magazine he'd been reading onto a bedside table. "You act like you're terrified of the boy."
"I'm not terrified of Harry," Davie huffed, uncrossing her arms and placing them on her hips. "I'm - well, what am I supposed to do? Sit down next to him and say, 'Oy, Potter, I know you've known me for all of two days but do you fancy having a chat with me even though you refuse to speak with your friends that you've known for four years?' - he'll think I'm mad."
"Aren't you?"
Davie pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, an expression which made Sirius grin broadly. It was so familiar, so natural - it could not be said that there was any sort of ease between them, but this too was a sign that for whatever reason, things were reverting to a very familiar state.
"You've kept a very pretty face for fifteen years now, don't risk it sticking that way now," Sirius said, his smile shifting to a very clear smirk, which only served to aggravate Davie further. "I know for a fact that Harry is sitting by himself in the guest quarters at this very moment while the others are cleaning house. I'd recommend you get to know the boy a little better before becoming completely mortified of him."
Davie wasn't sure why she was so easily convinced, but within minutes, she found herself taking small hesitant steps towards Harry's room - she rapped her knuckles on the side of the door and peered in at Harry, again seized by a very harsh sense of hesitation as far as starting a conversation.
"I was about to look for you." Harry said flatly, and in Davie's surprise, her mouth dropped open slightly before she was able to conceal it. She walked in and sat on a trunk across from Harry's bed and gestured for him to go on. "I want to hear more about my mum."
Davie let out a small breath and nodded - the topic of Lily Evans Potter, at least, was something that she was able to talk about. "Well -"
"And I don't want to hear about her marks," Harry snapped abruptly. Though he enjoyed any stories he could get, he was tired of hearing about legends, as though they weren't real at all. "Or the fact that I have her eyes, or the fact that she was nice to everyone. I want to know things about her as a person. Everyday things. Real things. I don't know want to just know things everyone knows."
Real things. Even better, Davie thought as a small smile settled onto her face. She nodded and folded her hands into her lap, leaning forward slightly. "Real things. She was allergic to Ice Mice - I know because our roommate Mary gave her a box. She was completely smitten with a Muggle singer by the name of Andy Gibb, and the first gift she ever gave your father was, very predictably, a comb for that hair of his. She didn't know how to jump rope. Before she and your father took you into hiding, she was considering becoming an intern, and she wanted to be the first Muggleborn member of the Wizengamot…"
Harry was in awe, and for perhaps the first time during his entire stay, he bore no sign of brooding or angsting; he simply was hanging on whatever Davie said. Suddenly, his mother did not feel like a figure in a dream, a photograph, or a fleeting glimpse into a mirror of one's deepest desires. Suddenly, his mother seemed very much a real person.
"I suppose the war ruined your life as well, then?" he asked, attempting to gain back some of the stony composure he had been maintaining in recent days. Even if this woman had done nothing personally for Harry to dislike, there was still the fact that she, like everyone else in the Order, had been conspiring to keep him out of the loop. "It killed my mum and dad, and it split up Sirius and you."
A side of Davie's jaw clenched, and she shook her head, letting out a weak laugh. "You're like your mother that way too," she said in a considerably softer voice. "She thought I ought to have married him, in case the chance never came again, and she never let me live it down that I refused -"
"So you're not in love with him anymore?"
"That's not the only question that matters," Davie said, shaking her head and sighing quietly. "I don't think there's any girl out there who doesn't want to get married and live happily ever after with the man who sweeps them off their feet - but I had to protect him. I'm not happy, but I have no regrets either. I know you're not a child, Harry. I know you understand that."
Harry wasn't sure whether to be angry that this woman was assuming things about him after knowing him for a matter of days without even really speaking to him until today, or to feel comforted by the fact that she didn't need anything more than to see him in order to know things that were very much true.
"All your life you've had to do things." Davie continued. "Ever since you learned about what happened to your parents, there have been things you have a duty to do that take on a path very far away from what you want. Am I correct?" she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly, her gaze suddenly knowing and wizened to the point that she nearly resembled a young, female version of Professor Dumbledore.
"Everyone says your mother was the careful one," Davie said, leaning forward so that her elbows rested on her knees. "But I knew her better - you know, I only remember your father being truly upset with her once. The Order left her at home for a fight. She came anyway - your father didn't show it much, but he was infuriated. That was the day we found out about - well, about you," Davie said with a sad, nostalgic smile.
All of this still felt so surreal - weeks ago, Davie had forced herself to forget this part of her life, to forget about Sirius and Lily and James and Harry. She had taught herself to see them only as news stories, as whispers from a past which she no longer thought of. Now, here she was, speaking to Harry about the life that suddenly and very willingly came rushing back.
"Am I going to be like you?" Harry asked suddenly, snapping Davie back to reality. "Not that - not that anything's wrong with you as a person, Davie, but… you're not young anymore. I'd like to be happy when I'm your age."
"You will be," Davie said with a weak laugh. "Even at the cost of my life, I promise you, you will not turn out like me. But you'll want to get some rest now," Davie said chidingly, and though Harry concealed it, a slight shiver ran down his spine. That, he thought, was the way he had always thought a mother would sound, the way that Molly Weasley spoke him. With Davie, however, there was a strange feeling in knowing that she was his mother's best friend - and though he was in no mood to admit it, he realized that he trusted this woman now like he trusted Sirius. "Arthur will be taking you to your hearing tomorrow and if you look like a runaway who's not been fed or rested, they'll tear you to bits."
"They'll want to tear me to bits anyway."
"No, they'll want to stab you in the back, there's a difference," Davie said, leaning backwards slightly with a smirk she could not contain - Harry then saw what Sirius must have seen in her when they were children. "Would you - oh, I ought to be helping Molly with dinner." she said, glancing up at the clock with a wrinkle of her nose. She stood up, smoothing out the fronts of the slightly boyish workpants she had a habit of wearing. "I'll see you at dinner, if you're not going to -"
"I'd like to see Sirius happy," Harry blurted out before he could help himself, and Davie froze midsentence, giving Harry a soft but nonetheless piercing stare.
"I'd like that too," she said vaguely, nodding at Harry one last time before backing out of the room. Harry sat still, thinking about the conversation they'd just had long after Davie's footsteps had already plodded down the hallway and down the stairs.
September the First, Nineteen Hundred Ninety Five
While thanks to Dumbledore, Harry had escaped suspension from Hogwarts, there had been very little time for celebration - with all the cleaning that had to be done in order to make the house at Grimmauld Place liveable, school preparation, and dealing with Harry's understandable yet ever-fickle temper, there had been little time to relax.
By now, Harry had been dropped off at King's Cross - Sirius had managed a short excursion to see him off, but had now returned to the house. The remainder of the Order members were still away to see the younger lot safely to Hogwarts, leaving Davie and Sirius alone in the house.
"D'you want to play cards?"
Davie looked up from the chair she had been seated in, pausing from fanning herself against the remaining heat. She raised an eyebrow incredulously at Sirius, huffing lightly. "I hate cards, you know that."
"One game of Exploding Snap," Sirius insisted, knowing full well that ever since their youth, Davie had never possessed the patience for card games or chess. She glared at him darkly as though he had just suggested they talk about old times over a bottle of bobotuber pus. "Canasta. Poker. Fifty-Two Pickup." Within ten minutes of pestering, Sirius had managed to wheedle a desperately bored Davie into a game of Fish.
"Any fives?"
"Go fish," Davie said somewhat grudgingly, staring boredly at the cards in her hand. "Did Harry get on the train alright? I still can't get over -"
"He's better protected now, Davie," Sirius insisted for perhaps the third time in their game. "We know better than to leave Dung on duty alone now -"
"There've been dementors on the train before, haven't there?" Davie said, unabashedly placing her hand of cards down and giving the table a light but exasperated slap. "And now that the Ministry is even more against Dumbledore, I wouldn't put it past them if they let dementors in again -"
"You saw them." Sirius said, putting his cards down as well. "The Ministry doesn't even have control over them anymore."
An uncomfortable pause settled over the pair, and it was evident that they were both feeling the same thing - they, of all people, had the biggest obligation to Harry. Lily and James were their best friends, and yet, they were the ones forbidden from leaving this old, decrepit house. Sirius happened to look up at Davie at the exact, brief fraction of a second where a familiar spark flashed in her eyes, and while he knew that it was wrong, and it was something Dumbledore would have his hide for, he knew that now would be one of the rare times that he could sway her into something.
"It's a shame," Sirius said, breaking the silence abruptly so that Davie' head snapped up to attention. "You're so used to being an Auror."
"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Davie asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean," Sirius said, struggling not to allow any sort of amusement on to his face as he spoke, "that it's such a shame that in all your brilliance, you've lost your touch for rule-breaking, else we might be able to keep a closer eye on Harry. Personally."
Davie paused, eyeing Sirius critically. She had lost her touch? Davie could not fathom the idea of having lost her touch - rusty, perhaps. But lost?
"You must be mad," Davie said sharply, and the slight sneer on her face was evidence that Sirius had succeeded in getting to her. The gears in her head were turning furiously now, to the point where Sirius would not have been surprised if he saw wheels literally spinning if he looked hard enough into her eyes. One little nudge, one more challenge - while Sirius knew it was wrong to use the fact that he knew her so well to manipulate her into helping him fulfill his want to leave Grimmauld Place, he could no longer resist.
"Am I?" Sirius asked, leaning across the table and staring at Davie with a grave expression. "Because I can't help but think we're letting our old friends down, sitting here and doing nothing."
For a moment, Davie simply stared at Sirius - what was the point of this? What was this supposed to be? And then, in a flash of thought, Lily's face flitted across her memory - Sirius was, damned if she'd admit it, apparently correct. This was not the way they had always been. They had not simply done as they were told in the early days of the Order, they had acted on their own. Convinced, Davie pulled out her wand, conjuring a out of thin air and scribbling words onto one of the playing cards, sliding it across the table towards Sirius, then standing and walking around the table to stand next to him.
"We cast this charm on one another," she said hurriedly. "If it works, we go from there, but we need to act before anyone returns or we're done for."
Sirius stood up, pulling out his own wand and looking at Davie - he did not know what the spell would do or what Davie had planned, but if she was anything like the Davie he had a;ways known, he expected sheer brilliance. "Count of three, then?" Davie gave a slow nod. "One, two, three -"
Both of them pointed their wands at one another, simultaneously calling out, "Dixpentannus Tempus Evanesco!"
Sirius felt an immediate squeezing sensation rush over his entire body, and he let out a pained, breathless groan, leaning against the nearby table for support - from the corner of his eye, he saw that Davie was leaning reliantly against the back of the chair as well.
It felt almost like he was being crushed from all sides, and his skin felt so hot that it was unpleasant, like he was melting, and whatever was being liquefied was being wrung from him ad though he were a wet rag. His bones felt as though they were in danger of breaking, and suddenly, he felt a modicum of doubt for whatever Davie had done, then suddenly… the pain stopped. He still felt slightly dizzy and out of breath, and he sat in the chair to gain his bearings. Davie, however, immediately stumbled across the room to stand in front of large, full-length mirror, reaching out to dust its surface off with her sleeve - and she let out a scream.
Immediately, despite his lightheadedness, he stood up and ran stumbling over to her - he approached her from behind, giving her a slight shake - and when he turned her to face him, they both let out a scream upon seeing one another.
"Bloody hell!" Davie said, clapping a hand to her chest shakily, staring at Sirius wide-eyed. "It worked! Look at you!"
"Look at you!" Sirius said, seizing her shoulders and staring at her, holding her still as though he thought perhaps what he was seeing was merely a result of lightheadedness.
"We-" Davie said, panting slightly, glancing Sirius up and down incredulously. "We're -"
"We're eighteen. Bloody - " Sirius said, glancing at himself in the mirror, confirming the fact to himself. He couldn't believe his eyes - the lines on his face disappeared, and once again, he looked young and handsome - he filled out his clothes a bit more as he was no longer sickly and emaciated, but muscular and sculpted.
"Move," Davie said urgently, nudging him out of the way of the mirror and looking at herself, shaking her head as though she, too, were worried that her vision was finally failing her as a result of getting on in years. But it was true - her face was smooth and porcelain-like again, her body was no longer that of a hardened Auror, but supple and soft.
"You're brilliant!" Sirius said, a sort of joy present in his voice that had been absent for a good many years - unable to control the compulsion, he swept Davie up into an embrace, spinning her around a couple of time before placing her back onto her feet.
Truth be told, for all the time he had known her, Sirius Black had never expected anything less than brilliance from Davina Maddux, but even this surpassed all expectations. This was Sirius' dream - to go back to being eighteen somehow, to go back to the way things had once been.
"What do we do now?" Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair - even that, he found, felt just as it had, and coifed and supple as it had been when he'd first gotten his hands on his flying motorbike. "Where are we going?"
"Where else?" Davie asked brightly, and the impish grin on her face, the sort of grin that had only been alluded to on the woman's face for years, burst in its fullness onto Davie's face so comfortably and automatically that it nearly sent a chill down Sirius' spine.
"We're going to Hogwarts."
A/N's
So first of all, I've been going back and rereading the story to keep my muse going because I've been on a roll - and then I noticed that a lot of the line dividers I've put in on the edit feature when I upload my chapters don't show up in the final version, even when I save. Has anyone else had this happen to them? I'm going to lose some time going back and putting them in unfortunately, and this frustrates me to no end, because I had never noticed that the lines weren't being inserted until recently. So annoying!
Thank you to amrawo for reviewing, and to MeliB1987 and tashtash for favoriting/subscribing. Also, in response to a message I received from 29, I actually haven't seen a whole lot of Sirius/OC stories out there that I've followed extensively, but I'm currently looking through the ones listed, and I will definitely let you know if I can recommend anything!
Anyway, I'm currently in the process of writing a really juicy scene that I believe will be part of chapter 39. I'm a little behind on my writing schedule, but I'm chugging bravely along and I thank all of you guys for sticking with the story! I'm turning twenty-one on June the 30th so reviews and feedback would be a much appreciated birthday present! I will try my absolute best to make sure I have the chapter posted before then, but I have a lot of family type things coming up, so it seems slightly cloudy. Keep your fingers crossed! Until next time, cheers!