'Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warning: Violence, torture, abuse
Chapter 43 – Retribution
"So, the remainder of your year at school went well?" Felicity settled back with her tea and awaited her daughter's response.
"It has been an … interesting year, to say the least," Kate replied, adding cream to her own cup.
"I must confess, Kate, that some of the stories circulating here in London these past months concerned two Hogwarts' students in your year," Felicity commented. "Ofelia Bullstrode and Sirius Black."
Kate set her teacup on the table before she dropped it. "Really? And what have the locals been saying?"
"Well, it would appear that young Mr. Black behaved in such a way that his parents were forced to cancel a marriage contract between him and Ms. Bullstrode. It would appear that there was another witch involved in the matter," Felicity sat back with the air of someone anticipating a good story – and from someone who would know the truth of it.
Kate knew she had to be cautious in her phrasing; given everything that had happened in recent months, Sirius' broken engagement really was old news – and quite unimportant in the scheme of things. "Neither party wanted the engagement," Kate said. "It was, as you said, an arranged marriage. I believe that the contract's dissolution served both Sirius and Ofelia very well." There – a bit of information to satisfy, while not revealing too much.
Felicity put her cup and saucer on the table. "And now Sirius Black is free once again," she said, eyeing Kate speculatively.
"I suppose he is," Kate commented. "Although can you imagine that his parents won't attempt to find him another 'suitable' bride?"
Felicity smiled secretively. "Oh, they'll try, of course; they're trying now, in fact. The real question is whether or not they'll be successful. Rumor has it there will be more pureblooded doors being slammed in their faces – metaphorically speaking, of course – than not. Non-related doors, mind you; the Blacks have always inter-married."
Kate maintained a neutral expression, but her heart sank at the gossip Felicity shared. If true, this would not bode well for Sirius at home. And that, on top of the separation from his friends, would certainly be a great deal for the young wizard to bear.
"Aren't you glad that you didn't become too involved with him, dear?" Felicity probed, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
"Mother, please; I do not want the time we have together this holiday to be spent arguing. I've told you how I feel about Sirius and those feelings have not changed. You might want to be aware of a few facts before you decide to hold firm on your opinion of him, however. Before I tell you, however, I must have your word that you will not share any of it with your friends – or whomever it is that gives you your gossip. Really, you must promise that what I tell you will remain between us – in this room – and shared with no one else," Kate said firmly.
Felicity was clearly torn. She very much wanted to hear what Kate had to say, but wasn't overly pleased at the price she would have to pay for that knowledge. She was loathe to have her daughter involved with the Blacks, for all the reasons she explained to Kate over Christmas. Felicity also knew, however, that to push Kate would only result in her full-on pursuit of the young wizard. Felicity decided to give Kate her word, listen to what she had to say and hope that if she could not share that information elsewhere, at least it might provide her with some kernel of fact that she could use to dissuade Kate from seeing the Black heir.
"Of course, Kate; you have my word."
Kate drew a deep breath. There was a fine line between what Sirius told her in confidence and what she had surmised on her own from things he had said out of context. She would share only what she had guessed and others – not Sirius – had confirmed. "Everyone thinks that Sirius is exactly like his family," she began, thinking, including Sirius. "He's not. As a matter of fact, his family treats him abominably. He is both physically and emotionally abused by them both – particularly his mother."
Felicity was surprised at Kate's revelation, but wondered how much was truth and how much was a romanticized interpretation of conditions in the Black house. Perhaps the parents were nothing more than strict disciplinarians and the boy had exaggerated his treatment. He did have something of a wild reputation; Felicity did not doubt that it took great disciplinary measures to keep Sirius Black in check.
"Are you certain of this because he told you and you believe him – or have you proof of the conditions in his home?"
"There is proof, but I am not at liberty to tell you what it is," Kate said, thinking of Sirius' detailed description of events at Grimmauld Place over Christmas – and of Dumbledore's outrage when he brought the boy back to Hogwarts. She had given Sirius her word that she would never repeat that story and she refused to betray him.
"Well, dear, I'm sure you can appreciate that allegations like that are quite difficult to believe without proof. I'm sure that the Blacks take a firm hand with Sirius, but based on my information, he needs one," Felicity responded.
"If you are unwilling to believe me, then we have nothing further to discuss about Sirius or my relationship with him, on whatever level that may exist," Kate said, drinking the last of her tea. "After all, without proof, how are you to believe me?"
"Darling, don't be cross; our time together is so limited this summer. I don't want us to be angry with one another any more than you do," Felicity attempted to soothe her daughter's obviously ruffled feathers. But I have no intention of budging from my position regarding Sirius Black – and his family.
"Then I would strongly suggest that we eliminate the Blacks – all of them – from our topic list," Kate said, rising. "I have no intention of banishing Sirius from my life, Mother; you will need to adjust to that fact. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go up and take a shower and read until dinner."
Felicity nodded. "Of course, dear. I'll see you at dinner," she said, watching Kate as she left the room. While her determination to block any relationship that brought the Blacks any closer to her family than they already were, Felicity thought, for the first time, that her own daughter might be the biggest hurdle to that goal.
XXXXXXXX
Sirius and Regulus entered the formal parlor together and approached the small table Walburga used for formal tea. The brothers had been initiated to the ritual of High Tea when they were mere children; Walburga had been determined that her sons learn proper manners at an early age to ensure that they would conduct themselves appropriately in society. It was a ritual Sirius had grown to despise, largely as it put him in the presence of his parents for an additional hour whenever his mother saw fit to inflict it on them.
Today, Walburga sat at the head of the table, watching her sons enter and take their seats.
She was beautifully dressed in deep teal dress robes and the Black family diamonds adorned her wrist, throat and winked from her pierced ears whenever she turned her head.
"You look beautiful, Mother," Regulus said, always in awe of Walburga in what Sirius privately referred to as, "full battle gear".
"Thank you, Regulus," Walburga purred as she poured his tea. "Sirius, may I have your cup?"
"Yes, thank you," Sirius said, passing the ancient porcelain cup and saucer to her.
Walburga eyed her son curiously as she passed the tea back to him. "You are feeling well, Sirius?"
"Quite well, Mother," he responded. I will behave as a Black and give you nothing to find fault with. If I have to be here all summer, I'll be damned if it will be a repeat of Christmas.
"You seem quite unlike your normal self," she pressed, regarding her elder son with greater scrutiny than before.
"O.W.L.s were last week," Sirius replied. "I studied quite late most nights; maybe I'm just tired."
"I assume that you did well," Walburga acknowledged, sipping from her own cup.
"The results won't be back until later this summer," Sirius replied, draining his cup. "I believe I did well, however."
"Blacks have historically done very well in their examinations; we expect no less from you, Sirius," Walburga advised him.
"Yes, Mother."
Walburga's eyebrows rose dramatically. It had been years since she had heard such civility from her elder son. Irritation prickled her nerves. "Are you mocking me?"
"No, Mother," Sirius said, keeping his voice even. "I was acknowledging your expectation that I do well with my exams. I believe the results, when they arrive, will show that I have done."
Regulus had been observing the interaction between his brother and mother and now felt that a swift retreat was in order. "Mother, may I please be excused? I would like to finish my Potions homework before dinner. It is my last assignment for the holiday and I want to get it out of the way."
Walburga turned her attention to her younger son and Sirius was amused to see her expression change from suspicion to something almost warm. "Of course, dear. Dinner is at seven; just the family this evening, so you need not wear dress robes."
Regulus rose, pushed his chair back in its place and shot a sympathetic glance toward his brother before turning and leaving the parlor. Walburga waited until the door had closed before speaking again.
"I happen to know, my son, that you were involved in some type of episode at school that involved Severus Snape. You are no longer on the Quidditch team and you cost Gryffindor House an exorbitant number of House points. For those punishments, I suppose I should applaud you as you've made it easier for Slytherin to acquire the House Cup this year. I cannot do so, however, as your behavior has been the fodder for gossip and, as such, has put our family in a somewhat negative light," Walburga's voice was quietly triumphant.
Sirius shook his head. "I apologize that you've heard gossip and I can only assume that it came from my cousins who would not have had the full story; Dumbledore wanted to quell speculation and spare Snape embarrassment and so he advised that there would be no discussion allowed."
Walburga's eyes glittered and she leaned closer to her son. "But you are aware of the circumstances, given the fact that you were involved in the matter, are you not?"
Sirius took a deep breath and began the lie he had decided to tell should this topic arise. It didn't really matter; he knew his parents hated Dumbledore enough that they would never verify the detail with him. He also knew that anything carried home by Narcissa and Bellatrix was pure speculation and would not hold up under any scrutiny. "Snape, as it happens, developed a bit of a crush on Ofelia Bullstrode this year and was given to following me around to see if he could discredit me and worm his way into Ofelia's favor. He claimed that he had information that would get me expelled and I hexed him, wounding his arm and knocking him unconscious. James Potter and Peter Pettigrew found him and brought him back up to the castle. Dumbledore got the school Healer to tend to his injuries, punished me and forbade us all from discussing the matter with anyone else. He wanted Snape to put it behind him and not endure any more teasing from students than he already gets, I suppose." That's close enough to the truth, I reckon.
Walburga watched him steadily throughout his explanation. There was something not quite right about it, but that sense was so elusive that Walburga could not grasp a specific point with which to take issue. "And what 'information' did Mr. Snape have that stood to cause you such trouble?"
Sirius shrugged. "I didn't ask him. To begin, there's nothing going on that he could have discovered. I believed at the time – and still do – that it was nothing more than an empty threat born of his jealousy over Ofelia. Look, Snape and I have never gotten along; he's always been a thorn in my side. I suppose I just reached my limit this time and I acted before I thought about the consequences." That part's truer than she knows.
"I see," Walburga sat back in her chair and folded her bejeweled hands in her lap. "Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"
Keep it together for this part, Black. "You should be pleased to hear that my friends whom you've so despised for the past five years are my friends no longer. They are tired of my continued hatred of Snape and this was, for them, the last straw. They have given me the boot, as they say."
"All of them? The Muggle girl, Evans and the traitor Morgan?" Walburga's face was almost frightening in her triumph.
"All of them," he confirmed quietly, keeping his face expressionless. "And so, you see, I have no friends, I have no Quidditch; I devote my time to studying and attending classes."
"You could, of course, cultivate friendships within Slytherin," his mother observed. "Those are the students more in keeping with your station – with our way of life."
"I am finding that my studies require a great deal of my time, Mother. I actually enjoy them. I never realized how friendships take time away from other pursuits," he said. Merlin, let me out of this room before I crack! I don't know how much longer I can do this.
"Well, well, well, my son," a slow smile formed on Walburga's lips as she considered her elder son. "It would appear that whatever this matter involved, it has given you a much better attitude toward your place in our world; toward your responsibilities. One can only hope that this change will assist us in securing another marriage arrangement for you. Your previous reputation has made our efforts very difficult indeed."
"I had hoped that perhaps we could avoid another contract," Sirius said.
"It is your duty to marry someone worthy of you – of us and our name – and continue the Black line. You will fulfill that duty," Walburga said, her voice cold. "Make no mistake, Sirius; I may be impressed with the path you have so recently chosen, but you are not absolved from your responsibilities to this family. You will continue to toe the line with us, my son. The consequences of not doing so will be severe, as you have already experienced. And, I can assure you, if you do not conduct yourself appropriately this time, Dumbledore will not get here in time to do you any good!"
Sirius' blood ran cold at both her words and her expression. He had no doubt that his mother meant business. He would be obligated to go along with whatever she and his father dictated or, as she implied, she'd kill him.
"May I be excused?" Suddenly, escaping this room – her – was imperative.
"Until dinner," Walburga nodded.
Sirius rose and walked toward the door. As his hand closed around the door handle, his mother's voice reached him again. "We will begin receiving replies to our overtures for contract negotiations with several pureblood families with daughters of an appropriate age. You had best hope that there are some positive responses in the mix, my son. If your father and I are unable to finalize a successful marriage for the heir to the Black family fortune, the consequences for you will be particularly … difficult."
"Yes, Mother," he said quietly and, when no sound was forthcoming, he slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind him.
XXXXXXXX
The next two weeks passed without incident for both Kate and Sirius. Kate's mother had wisely decided to drop any mention of Sirius Black. The result was a very pleasant time of conversation, shopping for Felicity's upcoming trip and on one afternoon, a trip to Muggle cinema for a comedy that had both women laughing aloud.
At No. 12 Grimmauld Place, only two responses to Walburga's contract overtures had been received. In both cases, the witches in question had already been committed to other pureblood wizards. As Sirius had no bearing on Walburga's lack of success with these families, there were no repercussions for him. Sirius hoped, although he did not realistically expect, that this trend continued.
One evening, at dinner, Orion announced that he would be leaving in two days' time for Paris, for a series of 'business meetings'. Rather than Floo home each evening, he had taken a suite of rooms at a hotel in the Wizarding section of the great city and would stay in Paris for the duration. Secretly, Sirius hoped that Walburga would accompany her husband but when she suggested it over dessert, Orion had promptly nixed the idea. As he explained, there would be little time for him to socialize and Walburga would only be bored. Orion promised his wife that the two of them would take some time and return to Paris once the boys were back in school. Seemingly mollified, Walburga brought dinner to a conclusion with liqueurs and dismissed her sons to their own entertainment.
"Mother seemed to be alright with the fact that Father wouldn't take her to Paris with him," Regulus commented.
Sirius, who had been privy to such scenes in the past, realized that their dismissal most likely meant that Walburga wanted to pursue the matter further, but he refrained from sharing that with his brother. "Well, he promised her that he'd take her another time, right? That probably satisfied her."
He left Regulus off at his door and crossed to his own room, closing and locking the door behind him once he was inside. Seating himself at his desk, Sirius reached for a book on Herbology, sighing when something fluttered from one of the pages to the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, Sirius' breath caught when he realized that it was a photograph – a fairly recent shot of the four Marauders, lounging before the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Taken just after the situation with Ofelia had resolved itself, the four looked as relaxed as Sirius could ever remember being. Remus and Peter were playing Wizard's Chess while James and Sirius were seated on the sofa, casually talking and laughing. Sirius recalled that Kate had received a magical camera for Christmas and finally decided to photograph people rather than the landscape shots she'd been capturing since her return to school. This was her first such picture. They had driven her mad with their exaggerated poses and refusal to 'just be natural' so she had stalked off in a temper. She'd come back awhile later, though and had caught them all unaware. When she presented Sirius with the photograph, he had been surprised at how well it had come out - and how much it meant to him to have it. He was never more appreciative of the photo than he was at this moment.
Sirius drank in the details of his friends' faces and mannerisms, startled when the images waved at him from their seats. Sirius' vision blurred and he put his head down on the top of his desk and allowed the emotions he had held in for so long to overtake him. Sobs wracked his body as he thought back to all that had happened over the past two months. He'd had his mates and they'd have done anything for each other – until he did something so stupid that he lost them all. Instead of being true to them – to Remus – he'd betrayed their trust. He'd finally fallen victim to his true instincts; he'd behaved as a typical Black and now it was all over. No matter how many times Sirius told himself that they were better off without him, he knew that he was lost without them. The depth of the emotional release left Sirius completely spent and, before long, he closed his eyes and heard nothing until the following morning, when Regulus knocked on the door to collect him for breakfast. Sirius sat up, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through his back as he did so.
"Be right there, Reg," he called, rising from the chair and stretching. Looking down, he saw the picture, slightly crumpled where his head had lay on it the night before. Sirius picked it up carefully and placed it gently on the open Herbology textbook. Closing the heavy tome, he replaced it on the shelf and made his way to the bathroom. It might not be a formal meal, but Walburga expected her sons to be presentable at her breakfast table and he needed a shower.
XXXXXXXX
"Well, we're going to be delayed a week," Felicity said, setting aside the parchment as Kate broke up a slice of bacon and offered the small pieces to the lovely white owl perched on the edge of the table.
"What's wrong?" she asked as Felicity drew out a fresh piece of parchment from the stationery box and proceeded to write a reply.
"Melanie tripped in her garden and broke her ankle. The healers mended the bone, but they want her to rest for a few days before she leaves for her trip. She's changed the Port key and hotel reservations, and needed to let me know, obviously," Felicity rolled up the parchment and called softly for the owl. Once she had secured the message and sent him on his way with a pat, Felicity looked at her daughter. "Garden gnomes! We've told her several times to have an extermination wizard come by and rid her garden of the dratted things. But, no! She says they amuse her cats and keep them out from under her feet."
Kate couldn't help but laugh. "Ironic, that! Cats probably chased them right into her path!"
Felicity joined her daughter in a good chuckle before throwing her hands in the air. "Ah, well, it's all as should be, I suppose. I have an extra week with you this way."
Kate smiled fondly at her mother. "There. That's the silver lining, isn't it? What shall we do with ourselves?"
"The theater, perhaps?" Felicity offered.
"Sounds like fun. We can do a matinee and high tea at the Ritz, if you fancy Muggle London," Kate suggested. One of the things she truly loved about her mother was her sense of adventure – when Felicity chose to indulge it. The younger witch wasn't certain if it was Felicity's guilt at being away during the bulk of Kate's holiday or her determination not to ruin their time with talk of Sirius, but Felicity was definitely pulling out all the stops.
"And the rest of the week will take care of itself," Felicity said.
She did not realize then how true that statement would be.
XXXXXXXX
Orion had been gone for two days when Sirius detected a subtle change in Walburga's mood. She was, as he suspected, livid with her husband for leaving her behind – making the judgment that she would be 'bored' rather than allowing her to make the decision on her own. Each evening, with increased indulgence in the superb cognac that graced the Black stores, her behavior and temperament became increasingly erratic.
At dinner that evening, Walburga was strangely silent until the main course had been cleared and coffee ordered and brought to the table.
"Regulus, you may be excused," his mother murmured as she poured a touch of cognac into her coffee. With an anxious look at his brother, Regulus quickly took his leave.
Sirius sipped his coffee, ignoring the small, gnawing sense of foreboding in his stomach as he watched his mother rise and move to the sideboard against the far dining room wall.
Walburga unlocked the center drawer and withdrew a sizable stack of parchment from its depths. Securing the drawer once again, she walked slowly to the table and reclaimed her seat.
"Do you know what I have here?" she asked, her charcoal gray eyes glittering at her son.
"No, Mother," Sirius lied. He did, in fact, have a very good idea what those parchments represented. A moment later, he was proven correct.
"These are over one dozen replies to our inquiries about finding a suitable marital arrangement for you," she replied. "How many of them do you think are interested in the opportunity?"
"Very few?" he ventured.
"None," came the reply. "And do you know what that means?"
Sirius clenched his hands in his lap as he shook his head.
"Well, Sirius, it means that there is no pureblood family that will have you – including our own cousins, with whom we have always inter-married. You have associated yourself with filth for so long that you have become filth yourself. Every one of these replies is filled with stories about your behavior at school, your failure to acknowledge your ancestry, your pureblood history and your penchant for aligning yourself with Dumbledore, and with his House. Those who travel in our circle are full of such tales, brought to them by those whose children have witnessed them first hand. You delight in taunting your cousins and their friends in the House to which Blacks have belonged for centuries – the House into which you should have been Sorted, as well. You have tried to convince me these past weeks that you were no longer the proud little lion, but had embraced your heritage and been shunned by your former, Mudblood-loving friends for it. Oh, so respectful and courteous have you been, my son, but I am not fooled. Eduard Bullstrode and his wife invited me to tea this afternoon; did you know that?"
Sirius felt his stomach clench and again he shook his head.
"Darling Ofelia was there, with her fiancé, a charming and very wealthy young wizard named Michael Delacour. I'm told that you know him quite well, although I must say that Ofelia did everything in her power to stop him from saying anything in my presence. Oh, Eduard wanted to apologize to me for the unkind comments he made about you when the marriage contract was broken. He accused you of being the most wanton and perverse of creatures, to indulge in indiscriminate relations with witches beneath our station, in total disregard for the reputation and feelings of his daughter. But, as he realized recently, he was quite wrong about you. When Ofelia made her condition known, you assisted her in meeting with the father; you've protected her from derision from members of her own House by pretending to ignore her, pretending to have washed your hands of her. How noble of you, the Bullstrodes cooed. Whilst they were most unhappy with your methods they seem to find honor in your behavior. I find no honor in your behavior, Sirius; there is no honor in a wizard who would knowingly embark on a campaign to negate a contract between two families. Oh, and your touching little story about Severus Snape? Well, apparently, Ofelia was aware of the truth of the matter concerning your difficulties at school in April. You colored the truth just a bit when you explained the matter to me, didn't you? Severus Snape had threatened to go to Dumbledore with the news that you had fathered Ofelia Bullstrode's child, didn't he? That was the reason you hexed him. You acted to protect her honor – which is, of course, questionable at best given that she was pregnant when we entered into the marriage contract with her family. So, I can add deception to the list of your transgressions. Hexing Severus Snape was the only Slytherin-worthy thing you've done, but there is little cause to celebrate; you are definitely not Slytherin!" Walburga rose, the parchment clutched in her hand and made her way unsteadily down the length of the table, her intended destination the opposite end, where Sirius occupied Orion's traditional seat. She had insisted he take her husband's place in Orion's absence, as befitted their heir. Halfway there, she stopped, glaring at Sirius and leaning against the table.
"Every single one of these replies mentions your broken engagement and the shame your behavior has brought to two families: the Bullstrodes and our own. Here, let me read one or two aloud to you, to ensure that you fully understand how dismal your situation truly is. Walburga began to read what to Sirius appeared to be a particularly lengthy diatribe, but he tuned her out.
He thought back to Walburga's earlier comments. I have always walked away from everything that has to do with pureblood tradition. I didn't even hex Snape, the one lie she believes that's made her even remotely happy. I'm not like them – any of them. Just because I have their blood in my veins doesn't make me a Black. I betrayed Remus because I was stupid and didn't think, but before that, I protected him for five years. I became an Animagus for him. A Black wouldn't do that. I was afraid and grasped at the first thing I thought of to do. I hated Snape and I let my actions be dictated by that hatred – and my own stupidity. Doesn't make me my mother's son; it doesn't make me a Black in every sense of the name.
"Sirius! I am speaking to you!" his mother's shrill voice permeated his thoughts and he jerked his head up to look at her.
"Yes?"
"You have thrown yourself in with the House of Godric Gryffindor; you have denied your heritage and your name. You are not a Black!" Walburga threw the thick stack of parchment at her son's head.
In that moment, despite the resolution of nothing between himself and his friends – and Kate – Sirius felt lighter than he had in over two months. He stood up from his chair and came around to face his mother, the sneer on his face equal to hers.
"No shit!"
He paused for a moment then started to turn to leave the room. There was a gasp, a muted snarl and the sound of a wand cutting through the air. He had no time to react.
"Crucio!"
His mother's curse immediately overtook his body, slamming Sirius to the floor in a burst of exquisite pain the likes of which he had never even imagined existed. Almost as quickly as it began, it was over and he was left panting in the aftershocks.
"Crucio!"
His veins felt as if they were filled with molten lava and muscles seized with the force of the agony coursing through him. Again, it stopped seconds later and he opened his eyes.
Walburga was on her knees beside him, her face horrible in its obvious delight. "Let us make certain this is a memory you take to your grave, shall we? CRUCIO!"
Sirius felt his teeth sink into his tongue and his mouth filled with a metallic taste. He shuddered uncontrollably as the pain reached into his toes, to the ends of his fingers and behind his eyes. He felt warmth in the front of his trousers and realized, dimly, that he had lost control of his bladder. He couldn't bring himself to care.
"Finite!"
Again, it stopped and through the rushing sound in his ears, Sirius heard the uneven click, click of his mother's heels on the parquet floor. He felt a cold rush of air as the dining room door was thrown open and Walburga swept into the hall. Sirius heard her open the door of the tapestry room and the wild shriek of "Incendio!" Manic laughter filled the room and the smell of singed wool rent the air. Hurried footsteps told of her flight through the hallway, presumably to her own room three floors above.
Sirius lay there, fighting the blackness that threatened the edges of his vision. He focused on the gold napkin ring lying beneath his chair and, fixing his gaze on that object, fought to breathe deeply, to take back control of his body. After a time – he didn't know how long – the shaking slowed to periodic spasms and Sirius gingerly tried to sit up. As he did so, the pattern of the carpet swam before him and nausea overcame him. He vomited until he didn't think there was a thing left in him, but refused to lie back down. He had to get out of this house.
Sirius waited several long moments then raised himself to his knees, supporting his weight on the back of a dining room chair. On one shaky foot at a time, he rose, the pain resurging to an intensity that had him doubled over. He remained in that position until he felt it subside and he fully straightened. Despite the shaking of his hands, Sirius picked up the water pitcher and rinsed out his mouth, spitting the blood onto his mother's carpet then taking a long drink from the contents that remained. His hands shook so badly that he soaked himself, but he managed to drink enough to purge the taste from his mouth.
Sirius let go the dining room chair and waited a moment to ensure that he could move without falling. Slowly, he made his way through the open door and up the first flight of stairs to his room. He calculated that the trip took over ten minutes given the slow pace he was forced to maintain. Sirius stripped off his soiled robe and pulled on another. He took piles of clothing and threw them in his book bag, then he grabbed the Herbology text from the shelf, flipping pages until he found the picture of himself with his friends and stuffed it in his pocket. Grabbing his broom, he paused as the sweat poured off his face and the shaking began to course through his body again. When he felt he had more control, Sirius shoved his hand in his trouser pocket and felt for the scrap of parchment he had carried since he left Hogwarts. He looked at the address she had written and knew he had to get there. Tonight. Now. He hoped she meant what she'd said to him outside the Pitch that day. I don't have anywhere else to go, he thought, feeling the emotions begin to overwhelm him again. I can't do this now; I can't lose it until I'm out of here.
Pulling himself together, Sirius walked out of the room and down the staircase. He heard no sound from the dining room, but his fear of his mother's reappearance didn't allow him to check to see if she'd come back. He walked as quickly as he could toward the door and, as he reached it, he heard her.
"If you leave this house, you are never to return," she said.
Sirius turned to see her clutching the cognac bottle in one hand and gripping the railing in the other as she made a very unsteady descent down the staircase.
"I don't plan to ever come back here," he shot back, shocked at how raw his voice sounded.
"You are no longer a Black," she screeched.
"I never was," he threw back and then he was gone.
Outside, Sirius began to mount his broom on the walkway in front of the house, but then thought better of it. He couldn't risk that Walburga would make it down the stairs and come outside after him. He made his shaky way down the street to the alley where he, Regulus and their father had Apparated almost 2 weeks before. Sirius tried to secure his backpack more tightly on his shoulder, but the pain from his mother's curse began to make itself felt when he did so. Choosing instead to grip it as tightly as he could and hope for the best, Sirius mounted the broom and tried to kick off and get airborne. His legs refused to cooperate. After fifteen futile minutes with no success, and tired of looking over his shoulder in fear of Walburga's sudden appearance, Sirius walked out into the street and extended his right hand.
Bang! A loud explosion was followed by the appearance of a bright purple, double-decker bus. A pudgy wizard wheezed his way down the steps and announced the arrival of the Knight Bus. Sirius nodded and handed the older man a handful of coins and showed him the address on the now-crumpled piece of paper clutched in his hand.
The wizard stepped aside and allowed him to pass. Sirius barely had time to settle on the edge of one of the beds before, with another bang and a lurch, the bus sped off into the night.
Almost before he knew it, the bus screeched to a halt before a small house on the opposite side of London. Sirius dragged himself to his feet and negotiated the steps down to the pavement. He walked to the foot of the stairs leading to a polished front door and stood, weaving slightly. Sweat was once again pouring down his face and he couldn't immediately identify any part of his body that didn't hurt. He stood, catching his breath for a few moments, then moved forward and, slowly, up the stairs.
Shifting his broom, Sirius raised his hand to the brass door knocker and lifted it, letting it fall back on its plate. He leaned against the railing, listening for any sound from within that would indicate he'd been heard. Suddenly, the door opened and he caught his breath at the sight of Kate standing before him, her initial look of shock morphing to horror as she looked at his now shaking form.
"Sirius!"
"I don't have anywhere to go, Katie," he croaked out, starting to sway in earnest.
Kate moved off the doorstep and put her arm around Sirius' waist to help steady him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know where else to go."
"Shh," she said softly. When she realized he wasn't really focusing on her any longer, she raised her voice, turning her head toward the doorway. "Mother!"
"Kate? Kate – oh, my word – Kate, who?" Felicity moved quickly to help her daughter with the young wizard who was obviously suffering from some injury.
Sirius did as much as he could to walk, but in the end, Kate and Felicity half dragged him to the sofa in the living room, and helped him to lie down.
"Mum, this is Sirius Black," Kate murmured. "Remember what you said when I told you about his home life? I would think that this would be proof enough."
Their eyes met and then Felicity looked down at the young man lying on her sofa.
"More than enough," she replied.
