CW: Discussion of rape, self-harm, suicide; grisly imagery

Sirius Black was not easy to convince to come along.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" he asked suspiciously. "How do I know you're not taking me to the Aurors?"

"If I was, I'd just take you down to Hogsmeade!" Hermione snapped, throwing her hands up. "I could have told anyone where you were for weeks! Honestly, you goon, I'm trying to help you!"

Sirius looked at her doubtfully, and Hermione glared.

"If it helps, know that we're going to my mother," Draco said, stepping forward. He took a deep breath. "And she would do anything for family."

Sirius' eyes flitted over to Draco.

"Like protect or visit her sister once in a while?" he sneered.

"She visits Aunt Bella a few times a year," Draco objected. "She goes as often as she can, but—"

"Not Bella," Sirius snorted. "Her other one."

There was a poignant pause.

"I can't speak for my mother and her relationship with anyone that might have been disowned," Draco said carefully. "But I can point out that you are not disowned anymore, and her family in every meaningful way, and she treasures that family."

Sirius scowled at him and looked at him very suspiciously, before finally snarling and thrusting his hand out.

"Fine," he bit out. "But if this is a trick, I will hunt you down where you sleep."

Draco paled, but Hermione bit back a snort. Sirius had failed at stabbing a rat – twice, now – and he still didn't have a wand. She wasn't exactly intimidated by any threats he made.

This time, the Portkey back wasn't quite as bad, and Sirius didn't seem affected at all. He looked at Malfoy Manor with suspicion and grudging admiration.

"Nice place," he finally conceded. He glanced at Draco. "Where's your mum?"

Draco led them around the manor to the back, through a path in the gardens. The gardens themselves were beautiful, rich with foliage and flowers just starting to bud with spring. Several winding stone paths crossed theirs as they walked, the other paths leading other ways in the garden, on different beautiful trails and walks. Hermione was excited to get to glimpse a few white peacocks roaming around, though none had their tails fanned out.

"You might want to stay away from them," Draco cautioned. "They're pretty, but they're nasty birds."

Sirius snorted. "No wonder your Dad likes them."

Draco shot Sirius a glare, and Sirius grinned.

"I call 'em like I see 'em," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Yes, well, let's at least try to be polite?" Hermione suggested tersely. "Your freedom's at stake here, realize."

"I know, I know," Sirius said, rolling his hand and his eyes. "I'll behave."

They came upon Narcissa sitting on a richly-appointed terrace, sipping a cup of tea from elegant china. She rose as they approached, her eyes going wide and her face paling.

"Sirius," she breathed, a hand slowly rising to cover her mouth in shock.

"Cissy," Sirius said. He raised an eyebrow, and he smirked, giving her a horrifying smile. "Miss me?"

To Draco and Hermione's astonishment, Narcissa began crying silently, tears streaming down her face.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she said. "I'd thought—well, it doesn't matter what I thought—"

Sirius pulled out a chair across from Narcissa and settled himself down, lounging back in the seat with his arms folded behind his head. Narcissa composed herself rapidly, elegantly flicking tears from her face with a fingernail, but Hermione was still surprised Narcissa had been overcome at all. Maybe Draco was right, and his mother really did value family above all.

"Could have come and visited," Sirius said, raising his eyebrow pointedly "I heard you visiting Bella. She always got the most visitors in the place."

"She is remembered fondly by those who knew her before her affliction," Narcissa snapped.

"Dunno if I'd call serving You-Know-Who an 'affliction' so much as 'very evil' and 'a very dumb thing to do'…" Sirius drawled, and Narcissa glared.

Hermione's opinion only solidified as she watched while the two Black family members 'catching up' quickly devolved into argument: If Narcissa didn't value family above all else, Hermione had no doubt Sirius would have ended up cursed.

"You were sane," Narcissa hissed. "Laughing at the death of a dozen muggles made you sadistic, sure, but you had always been sane. My sister was not."

"Oh, please. She was evil," Sirius snorted. "That's just an excuse."

"She went mad," Narcissa snapped. "She drew the tarnished sickle from the bag of fate. It could just have easily been you or me, of our generation."

"Excuses, excuses..." Sirius sniffed, examining his filthy fingernails lazily. "Lies, lies, and more lies. Anything to get precious Bella off the hook."

"You're joking," Narcissa said flatly. "Surely you know of the Black family madness?"

"Those were always rumors," Sirius said, dismissive. "Malicious gossip from jealous onlookers."

"That's what your mother Walburga told you, isn't it?" Narcissa pointed out, her eyes sharp.

Sirius looked annoyed and uneasy. "So?"

"Did you think you were going to get an honest story out of her?" Narcissa said, smirking. Her eyes were cold. "Her father went mad and raped his classmate at the age of thirteen to conceive her. She couldn't exactly admit that to herself, could she?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and Draco looked horrified next to her, going pale.

"Wait, what?" Sirius demanded, incredulous. "Pollux and Grandma Irma were married—"

"Yes, afterward, to save Irma from the shame," Narcissa informed him. "Have you truly never looked at the dates on the family tree?"

Sirius scowled, folding his arms.

"I always hated that bloody room," he muttered. "Had to go in and memorize my lineage when I was being punished. I never did the math on any of the years."

"Grandfather Pollux lost his mind when he came of an age," Narcissa told Sirius grimly. "He swore Merlin was talking to him from beyond the Veil, telling him that he had to conceive an heir who would help save the world. So he did."

Sirius choked. "Are you serious?"

"The only reason he wasn't kicked out of school is his Grandfather was still Headmaster at the time," Narcissa said. "Your mother was born, quietly raised by her grandmother until her mother graduated. But Grandfather tried again, every seven years, convinced he hadn't yet had the heir Merlin had destined him to."

Sirius looked ill. That was saying something, Hermione thought, considered he already looked very pale and sickly to begin with.

"So… what, your Dad was the true heir of Merlin or whatever, so old Pollux stopped?" Sirius asked, though his voice was shaky. "Cygnus was the youngest."

"No," Narcissa said primly. "Irma finally grew a spine and cut his testicles off."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and Sirius and Draco both flinched violently, their hands instinctively flying to cover their privates as if they were suddenly under threat.

"And they stayed married?" Hermione said, astonished. Narcissa smiled grimly.

"Didn't have much of a choice, did they?" she said lightly. "She'd been forced into a child marriage because she'd been raped, forever stunting her magic. Pollux had three children he had to raise, so he couldn't exactly leave and abandon his heirs…"

Hermione was sickened, but she simultaneously felt a flush of pride and vengeance for this unknown woman.

"Still," Sirius said. "One bad apple doesn't mean the whole tree is bad."

"What about your Aunt Lucretia?" Narcissa snapped. "She lost her mind too."

"She was severely ill," Sirius objected. "They had to keep her indoors so she wouldn't get more sickly—"

"Did she ever seem sickly to you, at family gatherings?" Narcissa interrupted. "Or did she seem fine, if a little odd?"

Sirius faltered.

"Err—she always seemed strong. Thin, but strong," he said slowly. "But she always wore bandages to hide her boils—"

"Her scars," Narcissa corrected. "She wore bandages because her parents and husband didn't want anyone to see her scars."

Sirius didn't get it. "Scars? From what?"

"From trying to kill herself," Narcissa said. She shook her head. "Sirius, do you genuinely not know this? They kept her locked up in a tower with nothing sharp, with the windows jinxed so she couldn't jump out."

"Dad—Dad told me she was an eccentric sorceress," Sirius said. "She would write her spell crafting on the walls of her research tower—"

"She was mad," Narcissa said flatly. "She could barely show emotion or care about other people, she didn't have or maintain relationships, and she didn't want to do anything, ever. She spoke like she was a stroke victim at times – just words all garbled together, completely nonsensical—"

"I don't remember that," Sirius defended. "I mean, I remember it was hard to follow along with her more advanced concepts—"

"I'm four years older than you," Narcissa said darkly. "I remember."

"She was married," Sirius objected. "No one would marry a madwoman!"

"She went mad in her twenties," Narcissa shot back. "Uncle Ignatius did the best he could to protect her, but he married her solely to avoid scrutiny from his family. Anyone with one eye could tell he was practically a woman himself."

Hermione glanced at Draco, who winced. He mouthed the word "bent" at her, and Hermione settled back down uncomfortably, watching the cousins continue to fight.

"She was still alive last I knew," Sirius said. "What happened?"

"She finally figured out a way to kill herself," Narcissa said flatly. "It wasn't pretty."

"What, despite the tower? I thought if they'd kept her locked up—"

"She bashed her head into the stone wall over and over until she died," Narcissa informed him. "The funeral was a closed-casket affair, and the House Elf who had to clean her tower afterward had a mental breakdown and had to be sent away."

Sirius looked disturbed. "That's—well, that's—"

"The House of Black is cursed with madness," Narcissa said curtly. "I watched my sister morph before me into someone I hardly knew. But you did not change. That was the difference, in why I never visited you. She was mad and did not know what she was doing, while you knew exactly what you had done."

There was a very heavy silence.

"Bellatrix is evil and murdered a ton of people," Sirius said flatly.

"I'm well aware," Narcissa said calmly. "Nevertheless, I maintain she would not have if she had not gone mad."

"But she did go mad, didn't she? She went off and—"

"Her affliction is not her fault, and I'm done justifying myself to you," Narcissa said curtly. "I didn't visit you in Azkaban. I have apologized for this. Now, are you going to accept my apology so we can move forward, or are you going to sit and be insolent about it and remain a wanted criminal forever?"

Hermione could tell from the struggle on Sirius' face that he was having a hard time with the choice. She wondered if Sirius and Narcissa had argued so much as cousins when they were younger. From the way they had both settled into fighting immediately, she wouldn't be surprised if they had.

"Fine." Sirius scowled. "I accept your apology."

"Excellent," Narcissa said primly. She snapped her fingers. "Dobby? Bring more tea."

A House Elf appeared a moment later, bearing a serving tray, and it replaced the existing tea tray with a fresh one, loaded with chocolate biscuits and lemon tarts, before the elf disappeared once more.

"That Lucius' elf?" Sirius asked, as Narcissa poured the tea. "Where is old Lucy, anyway?"

The thought that Lucius was missing hadn't occurred to Hermione. She'd presumed he was just elsewhere in the house, doing other things. She glanced at Narcissa, who had gone somewhat still. Her face was smooth, emotionless and unalarmed, but there was a definite pause as she considered what to say.

"Lucius is currently at Saint Mungo's," she said, her words slow. "He's undergoing a course of treatment for quicksilver poisoning."

"Wait, what?" Draco looked alarmed. "Mum, you said he went because he had tremors and trouble sleeping."

"Those are side effects of the quicksilver poisoning," Narcissa admitted. She gave Draco a small smile. "Rest easy, Draco. Your father has undergone similar treatments before. It will take the healers a few days to pull all the toxins from your father and help his body heal once more, but he will return healthy and hale before long."

Draco looked mildly reassured, while Hermione's mind was spinning. Mercury poisoning?

Lucius Malfoy?

It wasn't as if Lucius Malfoy worked in a dangerous muggle factory, or in an elemental laboratory. There were very few magical uses for quicksilver, and she didn't think he was an alchemist. Where on earth had Lucius Malfoy gotten mercury poisoning from? And he'd gotten it before? And now he'd gotten it again?

"Better for me, I suppose," Sirius quipped. "Me and ol' Lucy never got along."

"Yes, well," Narcissa dismissed. "Shall we move on to the reason you're even here?"

"Sure," Sirius drawled. He raised his teacup and saluted them with it. "To making me a free man, once and for all."

Narcissa seemed to be struggling not to roll her eyes.

"Miss Granger," she said. "You said you had undeniable proof of Sirius' innocence?"

"Um," Hermione said. "Of a sort. I have the person who framed Sirius captured. Presenting him will kind of prove Sirius' innocence."

"You are holding a man captive?" Narcissa repeated, her eyebrows rising.

"Well, he's a rat right now," Hermione admitted. "It's not quite as cruel as you're making it out to be."

Narcissa looked mildly impressed.

"On the contrary," she said, "keeping a man prisoner by turning him into a rat is much crueler, but practically speaking, it's undeniably easier for you."

"He's an Animagus," Sirius said. "Peter Pettigrew can turn into a rat."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Narcissa paled. "Well. That does clarify matters, doesn't it?"

"Does it?" Sirius said darkly. "He's going to still claim that I murdered all the muggles, and that he turned into a rat and went into hiding to protect himself."

"Did you murder all the muggles?" Narcissa asked.

"No, but—"

"Then the Truth Circle on the floor of the Wizengamot will tell your tale," Narcissa said, dismissive. "If I present your complaint, and you are granted temporary protection in order to have a trial, we will present Peter Pettigrew's continued existence as proof of your claim. Peter's testimony, then, will damn him, and it is he who will be charged and condemned."

Sirius shot a look at Hermione. "Is that right?"

"I'm fine with presenting him to a judge and jury," Hermione protested. "I wasn't fine with handing him over to be murdered."

Sirius muttered something under his breath, before speaking louder.

"You said you wouldn't hand me over to the Dementors because you objected to them morally," he said. "But you'll hand Peter over?"

"Peter hasn't been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss," Hermione objected. "It's not a fair comparison. Azkaban's not ideal, no, but he's not going to end up a soulless husk even if he's convicted."

Sirius looked annoyed, but he settled down.

"This seems straightforward," he said. "You present a fancily-worded complaint to the Wizengamot, they agree to see me to give me a trial, and boom! I show up, Peter's brought in, I'm freed, and the rat's sentenced to life in prison." His dark eyes glittered. "When do we start?"

Narcissa seemed contemplative.

"The soonest we could present a complaint of injustice would be the next Tuesday session," she said. "The trial itself would need to be scheduled, of course – probably that Thursday or the following Thursday night – but we need time to make sure you're presentable before that."

Sirius snickered.

"You don't think I'm beautiful just the way I am, Cissy?" he asked, patting his matted hair. "I'm hurt."

Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"I'd think you'd be more eager to get neatened up," she shot back. "You always were a vain one back in school."

Sirius' eyes darkened.

"You'd be surprised how fast Azkaban changes you," he said. "You don't exactly come out the same person you went in."

Narcissa sobered.

"No," she said. "I suppose not."