Persephone POV

I've been sitting in the back garden for a while, when the Slytherin kids walk up. Pansy immediately drops to hug me, wiping what little tears I have left to cry. A few minutes later, Harry joins us.

"Why is Sirius is arguing with a painting that isn't his mother?" Harry asks through laughter. Seeing my tearstained eyes, he sobers up. "Sef, what happened?"

"I told Sirius about my secret house guest, his brother's portrait."

"Why would you hid that from Sirius?" He doesn't seem angry, just genuinely confused. "It's not cursed or anything, right?"

"Reg asked me not to tell Sirius until he was ready. The Black brothers were close until Hogwarts separated them. Regulus was figuring out how to get that back. He chose tonight to reunite them, not me." We all start talking about random things, to avoid thinking about the argument brewing inside.

It's a few hours later, when Sirius walks out the back door. The others went inside long ago, but I can't bring myself to move. "Petal, are you okay?" I shake my head no. "Look, I wish you had told me, but I'm not angry with you. Here," he says, returning Reggie's portrait. "he demanded I give him back to you. You guys are close, aren't you?"

"Pads, we've shared a room all summer, so it was inevitable. Jokes aside, he is a really great guy, funny, passionate. I like having him around. It's too bad, I can't just bring him to Hogwarts with me, but I refuse to separate you two."

"He'll probably find a way to join you. He wouldn't have given that necklace to just anyone." He bids me goodnight, but I stay outside watching the stars.

"He just worries about you," Regulus tells me from his spot laying next to me. "He can't physically have children, so you and Harry are the closest thing he'll get. You are his daughter in all but blood now, and you spent months sleeping in a room, with a strange man watching you."

"So you admit it? You do watch me sleep!" I joke triumphantly.

"I admit to occasional peeking, since you've stopped closing the curtains. You are beautiful, after all," he trails off for a moment. "I hope I didn't overstep with the locket. The implications of actually giving it to you are different than if you had just found it, but I didn't think past messing with Sirius."

"What implications would that be?"

"If I were alive, you would currently be my fiance. The necklace is a betrothal gift to the heir's lover," he explains. Color drains from the background, making his cheeks burn red. "If it bothers you, you're free to return it."

Looking at his flushed cheeks and shy smile, I make a choice. "Would you have still given me the gift, if you were alive?"

"Mon Cheri, I've given you my clothes, my ring and my heart. What do you think?" I feel my face heat up, clenching the locket closer. "Let's go inside, Love. We can talk in our room."

September first is upon us, and Sirius sees us off on the train. Walking through the different carriages, I find a blonde girl willing to share her car. She's a small thing, even for a third year. We introduce ourselves as we file in.

"I'm Luna Lovegood. You are surrounded by Wrackspurts." Luna says, wide eyed but serious. I stare at her in surprise, while thinking of the portrait of Regulus. "You are really lucky. Love like this comes once in a lifetime."

When I don't correct her, the carriage occupants lose control. The whole way to Hogwarts, I attempt to avoid questions from my adopted family.

The sorting is over by the time our new Defense Professor arrives. The Alistair Moody by the podium is nothing like Sirius said. This may turn out to be a weird year, after all.

"-and finally, Quidditch is cancelled this year." The Weasley twins interrupt Dumbledore, demanding he must be joking. Dumbledore starts to actually tell a joke, but McGonagall stops him. "Starting on Halloween, Hogwarts will be hosting both Durmstrum and Beauxbaton students, to compete in the Triwizard tournament. All entries must be of magical majority, and to ensure this, an age line will be drawn to prevent minors from participating."

Looking to Harry, he seems relaxed. Finally, a year he won't have to worry for his life. Heading over to Harry's yearmate Dean Thomas, I ask him to commission a few paintings. He stares at me confused, then shrugs, nodding. I hand him a picture of the Black Library and Grimmauld's back garden, thanking him.