Chapter 13: The most of the little they had

Antares – so alike his father, and even more so that the Sirius Black of this time kept his hair long, was leaner and hadn't exchanged eyes with their mother – and Hyades – looking enough like her cousin once removed Bellatrix that Narcissa Malfoy had sucked in a breath the first time they'd met – were in the room they'd chosen for themselves, waiting for their brother to come back from the Juliet-retrieval expedition. The boy was sitting on the bed he'd claimed – but that would soon be replaced with a bunk bed for Almaric to sleep up in.

Great-grandmother Melania had done the rounds of the bedrooms, noted the additional number of beds and other furniture needed, and written it all on a list so that Sterhn, the house-elf, could arrange that while they'd be eating dinner.

Antares, thus, was sitting on the bed to the left, while his sister emptied her pockets on the desk against the bathroom's wall. They'd be a bit tight at three in the bedroom – but for now, for now...

Yeah, it was probably for the best. In a way, they were all each other had left.

Hyades turned to look at him.

"Ares, what do you have?"

The boy blinked.

"Sorry?"

"What do you have on you?"

"Err..."

Hyades was right, he realized – everything had been so unbelievable, he hadn't even stopped to think about that. About what, materially speaking, they did have left.

"I... I know Almaric has a dungbomb, his trunk's key, and his wand?"

His sister shot him a look, unimpressed.

"I don't want to know what Almaric has, I want to know what you have."

Well, yes, but Almaric wasn't there to tell them himself and Hyades would want to know what he had too, so Antares was preemptively answering for him – and, maybe, he didn't want to think about what he did not have on him. The pictures, the gifts from his friends-who-weren't-even-born-yet.

His wand, because he'd barely been up after finishing his summer homework late last night and he hadn't taken his wand with him in the shower – at least he'd been out and clothed when he'd been catapulted here.

Antares knew his sister too well to try and pretend any longer, though. If Hyades wanted to know – and she was right, they needed to know and waiting wouldn't change any of it – she wouldn't let him get away with it.

"...I have a few sickles and Mom's lindworm ear cuff. She'd left it in the bathroom, I was going to bring it to her."

He took it out of his pocket and Hyades came over to look at it for a moment without saying a word. Dad had given it to their mother years ago, after the Ministry visited and they needed a way to pass messages discreetly. The small dragon – that almost looked like a snake with a pair of legs at the front – would curl up around her left ear until she whispered a message and then it would slither off looking for the person whose name and magical signature it knew – then it'd come back to her, whisper back in her ear, and go silent and unmoving again.

Hyades bit her lip, and turned on her heels, going back to her own stuff.

"We could ask Sirius to get it fitted for you instead. No one in Slytherin would bat an eye at you having a snake-like ear cuff, probably. I... I have Dad's grimoire, I was looking through it when... Maybe he'll want to see it, too, and we could try and learn from it together."

The heavy book was, indeed, on the desk next to a handful of knick-knacks – a copper-colored hair clip in the shape of a bird, an inkwell, the case of her enchanted fountain pen. It was a large volume – like most grimoires – that their father had started putting together after his ability to use a wand had been taken away during an encounter with an auror six years before, and it contained his research on wandless alternatives to a lot of spells – some that existed already, and some he'd invented himself when he couldn't find anything. Hyades could tell you, if you asked her, that wandless magic was a complicated story on a good day – because a wand served as both a directional medium and as a magic-shaping tool – and mastering one spell in such a fashion without having mastered it first with a wand took a lot of time and focus. Some spells didn't use a wand in any way, but they were rare – the animagus transformation, or, more commonly, apparition, came to mind – and people who relied less on wands like in most African wizarding cultures still had a wand laying around for spells they weren't too familiar with because their wandless mastery was limited to spells they had spent a lot of time honing – otherwise they relied more on potions or chants.

When their dad had been forced to find a way around not being able to use a wand at all, he and Monja had spent a lot of time dissecting what made wandless magic work, based on Monja's schooling at Uagadou, and from that Dad had adapted about three dozens common European spells in the last years, and he had consigned them in that grimoire – which he'd recently started sharing with his daughter.

It was, therefore, one of a kind – and, just like Mom's ear cuff, it was apparently all they had left of their parents.

Of course, Dad was out there with Almaric and Juliet, and Mom was probably living her normal muggle life in Leicester, so it wasn't like they were dead.

The others, well. Sirius was coming back with Juliet, Bill wasn't ten years old yet, Uncle Perce was probably still doing a Sleeping Beauty underneath New York – Hyades might want to think about doing something on the matter, but it wasn't exactly next door, so – Diamondra's son was still alive, Monja was going to school with said son, Adjoua hadn't yet had her accident while discovering the Veil of Côte d'Ivoire. Only Akari might actually be interested in some support, but Hyades had no idea of where the Japanese squib had been – was actually – living in 1979.

Harry wasn't born yet – and his parents were still alive.

Everything was different, and Hyades and her brothers fit nowhere in it.

There was nothing she could do about that.

What she could do, on the other hand, was making sure that, at the very least, she and her brothers made the most of the little they had – so that was what she'd do.

Speaking of which.

"Tell Sirius you don't have your wand when he comes back. They're definitely planning to go shopping soon, because we don't have..."

Hyades stopped, stared at her things on the desk.

"...We have nothing, or close enough. I doubt the others have much either."

She saw Antares cringe, but before she could ask – a loud crack announced the presence of a house-elf outside their door. Hyades went to open it before they could knock on the door – not that there was much of a point with the noise they'd made by apparating inside the manor.

It was Sterhn. Neither sibling was surprised by his presence – after the passing of Dad's grandparents, the house-elf had gone to the direct descendants. Meaning, Dad – though officially his children. Mom had taken it in a stride – it was only one more person living in her house who wasn't supposed to, after all – and after some hatching out of what was expected in a "muggle" house, she and Sterhn had found a way to make it work.

They'd gotten a glimpse of him earlier, when they'd walked in through the floo and Melania Black – alive, younger – had been the one to find them in her entrance hall.

As always, the house-elf wore a toga-like white drape, held at the hips and the left shoulder by two solid clasps – Almaric had once theorized it to be a repurposed funeral shroud, but none of the triplets had actually asked, the few times they'd visited Arcturus and Melania. At least it wasn't dirty or ragged, like Harry had told them Dobby's attire to be.

He was also looking at them with a weird look in his eyes – and who could blame him?

It wouldn't stop him from doing his duty, though.

"Master, Mistress. Master Sirius is back, and Mistress Melania is asking for everyone to come to dinner."

Antares jumped off the bed.

"Where are we eating?"

"The grand dining room, Master. Sterhn can show you the way."

"No need, we know where it is."

The house-elf looked taken aback, so Hyades gave him a thin smile – unwilling to explain, once more, to add that they'd visited their great-grandparents a few times, that...

Sterhn found his countenance quickly enough and shook his head.

"If the master and mistress are sure."

Antares and Hyades took a moment to watch Sterhn walk to another door, knock and start telling the darker-skinned boys what he'd just told them, but turned around and headed for the central stairs before they could hear whether or not those children of another Sirius Black knew Black Manor too, or if they'd never spent time here in their timeline.

They all had the same father, and yet. Not only was their Sirius Black not Hyades, Antares and Almaric's Sirius Black, but their stories were completely different too. Barely ten of all the children had raised their hands when they'd been asked who knew Juliet – that meant, at the very least, that eight of them had never met the triplets' adopted sister. How many of them had grown up with Harry Potter? How many didn't have a father accused of mass murder and betrayal? How many...?

There were so many things that could be different in their lives, and Hyades didn't really know what to make of it – not yet, not now.

The two triplets started going down the stairs, and a few seconds later they saw Sirius with a little girl – who looked a bit like Juliet might have looked at that age – and three big trunks stacked next to the fireplace. Almaric waved at them from behind the trunks and his siblings hurried down the steps to join him – and the older girl and the blond girl who were making their way through the large double-doors that led into the grand dining room.

The girls glanced at the triplets, then at the stairs, and continued on.

Almaric, him, spun around them both and put his arms across their shoulders.

"How's our room?"

Antares tried to move out of his brother's grasp, but Alaric – always sure-footed – followed suit without a problem, and the triplets entered the grand dining room too.

It was a large room, maybe half as big as the Great Hall at Hogwarts – but with much fewer people in it, and only a single, though massive, harvest table in its center. The family tree on the far left wall looked the same, at this distance, as it had last time they'd visited Black Manor – but Hyades had no doubts that it would hold many a difference should she step within reading distance. For one, Dad had many more children this time around, and for two, a lot of family members weren't dead yet. Odd, that, how many Blacks had died during or following Voldemort's reign of terror.

Very odd indeed.

Antares finally got free from his brother by elbowing him abruptly – but Almaric spun around before he got hurt, as usual.

"A bit cramped for three, I think. But since you'll spend most of your time outside, and Hyades will be scouting the second-floor library more often than not, I think I'll survive."

Almaric didn't pretend feeling hurt – he never did, and Antares wasn't even certain there was a way to make his brother feel bad at all – and started peering around the – large, unnecessarily grand – dining room.

"Good news for you, I should be able to find someone who actually likes Quidditch to practice with. There have to be some others like me amongst all those..."

Almaric squinted at the other teenagers pouring into the room.

"...half-siblings? That doesn't get any less weird."

Hyades shrugged and made for a seat – cutlery was set at the end near the Family Tree Wall, and she knew better than to sit at the head of the harvest table. Of the three seats, the center one was for their great-grandfather, the one at his left was for their great-grandmother, and the one at his right would remain empty, as Orion Black – not the curly-haired black boy they'd just met – wasn't present. The family Head, their consort, and their first Heir.

"How is Juliet?"

Almaric didn't answer right away, drawing a chair to sit on, his eyes stuck on the high windows and the patio beyond.

"...Silent. Very, very silent. And everyone looks afraid outside. Also, Dad doesn't trust me, so, you know."

The look on the boy's face as he said that was one that had his siblings frowning – almost taken aback. Almaric wasn't really the kind of person who got visibly hurt – he was more likely to stare at you with a closed face and retaliate with true but disturbing words.

Like Dad.

Antares coughed.

"I mean, he doesn't know you yet."

"That's what he said too."

There wasn't much else to say on the matter – not without getting on their brother's bad side – so Hyades and Antares shared a look, then the girl decided to throw Antares under the bus to distract Almaric.

"Ares doesn't have his wand, did he tell you that?"

The look she got for that would have scared her, had it come from someone who wasn't her brother.

Before Antares could retaliate, however, the two Indian-looking brother and sister – Varsha and...? - sat at their right. The boy – young, maybe not even of Hogwarts age – tried for a smile.

"I'm Shivansh. You're the triplets, right?"

Hyades tried not to roll her eyes – she had a feeling she knew what was coming, if those two knew anything about the Black family.

"Yeah. And yes, we're really real."

Shivansh's older sister chuckled.

"Oh, our mom time-traveled twenty years into the past and had to adapt to passing herself off as one of her own father's sisters, so I don't think you being mystery triplets in the House of Black is the weirdest thing ever."

Hyades stared, but it was Almaric who asked:

"What?"

Shivansh continued onto what his sister had just laid out in the open – not that the triplets were disbelieving of their claim, after all, they themselves had just gotten chucked through time and dimensions and possibly existence too while they were at it. He looked a bit less at ease with sharing such a fact, though.

"Mom... Mom had an accident at the beginning of her fifth year involving time sand. She woke up in 1975 instead of 1995, with everyone in her family thinking she'd always been there and of course she was their sister instead of their daughter and niece. She knew a few things about what would happen in the next years, so once she got around what had happened to her she started sticking around Dad because..."

As the boy talked, his sister paled suddenly – and Antares, who had been trying to place the other side of Varsha and Shivansh's family, since apparently their mom was in the same year as Harry, was the only one to notice – before placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, who stopped speaking and looked at her.

Varsha's smile after that felt a bit too controlled to be truly honest.

"Anyway. Mom had her fair share of weird, and we just got here too, so I don't think we can judge. I mean, good for you if you're not like Dad with the twin thing, but other than that...?"

By then, almost everyone was at the table, and the triplets' attention drifted to Sirius and his grandparents – the young man was rolling his eyes as Arcturus pointedly gestured for him to take the first seat on the interior side of the harvest table, right next to the seat Orion Black would have taken had he been there.

Still, Sirius took his seat without commenting – yeah, yeah, he was the second Heir and this was the traditional seating order, thank you – after having transfigured the next chair's legs to be higher so that Juliet could have access to her plate.

They'd spent longer gathering things at the flat than expected, and though dinner would be a bit early, it was better than to start something now and then have everyone hungry. They had enough on their plate as it was without adding volatile moods due to hunger to it all.

Arcturus sat, finally, and everyone was at their place – in as much as they had places, which only the adults did.

"Enjoy your meal, everyone. Breakfast tomorrow will be in the private dining room."

The old man pointed at a double door that Sirius knew to be somewhere behind him, and that only some children turned around to look at – not the triplets, Dana, Adhara's kids or the four who had Eleanor Rowle as a mother. Did it mean they'd already come to Black Manor, or just that they were more occupied with putting food in their plates? Sirius had no idea.

Sitting at her husband's left, Melania wandwaved at a door next to the family tree carved into the wall behind her, and three serving platters appeared, floating towards them until they steadily lowered themselves across the occupied seats.

"Sirius, on the matter of your bedroom, you and Stefania will take the left bedroom-nursery combo. Does everyone else have a room to sleep in?"

A chorus of "yes" answered her.

"Good. Sterhn should be taking care of adding the necessary furniture while we eat. If there's a need for permanent extension charms on the wardrobes or other things, we'll have a professional look at it. We wouldn't want the extension charm to fail and swallow your belongings, or make it explode and heave up all over the bedrooms."

Altair, the boy with vivid blue eyes who James had pegged as not-sure-I-want-to-know-his-home-history, was sitting next to Melania, right across Sirius, who saw his eyebrow arching up at the description of how extension charms could go wrong if you didn't know what you were doing – or, if someone was throwing hexes and curses around and managed to hit charmed furniture, but that was another matter entirely.

"Did... Have you seen that happen before? The swallowing thing?"

Sirius' grandmother gave the boy an amused smile.

"Oh, yes. My sister, Maureen, was trying to smuggle her new formal robes to a night with her friends, so she charmed her pockets to hold a lot more than they was supposed to, except there was already a charm woven into the fabric and it didn't like the addition. We never found the left sleeve, and Mother was livid because Maureen had nothing to wear for Lincoln's engagement party..."

Sirius listened with one ear – good, apparently they did have things to talk about, that was always a good thing – while looking over Juliet's progress with her plate, when he realized...

He wasn't the only one, apparently, because Harfang looked up from his plate and asked:

"Maureen Selwyn?"

Since he'd confirmed they were Arella Selwyn's son, him and Orion, that meant Maureen Selwyn, née Macmillan, was their great-grandmother too, just like Melania. Technically, Arella was Sirius' second cousin – and he hadn't realized that at first, because everyone always focused on the fact that she was of dubious blood and not the daughter of her father's wife.

Apparently Harfang and Orion's Sirius Black – on top of not being an auror and having died at a dubiously young age – had managed to pull an Orion-and-Walburga and marry not too far into the family tree, which painted a picture he wasn't liking at all. Not that there was a problem with marrying other purebloods – as long as the reason wasn't that they were purebloods – or that he couldn't be a senseless victim in the war even if he wasn't working at the Auror Office, but...

Melania blinked at Harfang, and you could guess the wheels turning behind her eyes.

"Yes, Maureen's husband is Claudius Selwyn. May I ask why you want to know?"

The old woman knew already, that much was obvious – but she was leaving the kids the choice to say it, it seemed.

Harfang looked back into his plate. His little brother was watching him curiously, as if he didn't realize what was happening – and maybe he didn't. Maybe he'd never known his great-grandmother.

"Just... curious, that's all."

Melania didn't insist, Arcturus barely squinted in thought, and Sirius let out a low breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

They were holding their end – his grandfather's end, but same thing – of the bargain, not pushing when the children didn't want to tell.

It could work.