Chapter 19: In the middle of her affairs

When Sirius flooed to the public chimney next to the Leaky Cauldron, he found Diagon Alley with only a dozen or so visitors – within sight, at least – walking quickly to get where they needed to be – willing to brave a possible terror strike for their purchases, but not to spend overly long doing so.

For Diagon Alley, that was positively empty – and yet, Sirius could barely remember a time the street had been bustling with people, unbothered by fear and apprehension. Before he'd gone to Hogwarts, sure, because Voldemort hadn't been doing anything in public until 1980, but back then Sirius had been young and he couldn't quite muster up any real memory of it – only a passing impression, a feeling that things had been different.

The last week of August was generally a bit busier, courtesy of school supplies, but even then, things had gotten tenser and tenser over the last years.

Sirius stepped out of the arrival spot – no one was stupid enough to try and apparate into a major wizarding street because there were anti-apparition wards over all the buildings and you risked to apparate onto someone rather than in an empty space, and flying a broom over central London was asking for trouble, so it was either the floo or the Leaky Cauldron's entrance – and took a moment to look over what he could see of the street.

The auror stationed in a wooden booth nodded at him, and Sirius gave her a thin smile in return. There hadn't been a need for a permanent booth in Diagon Alley since 1883, and they both knew it.

In the four years since the booth had been deemed necessary again, there had been thirteen coordinated attacks on Diagon Alley and six aurors had died holding their post.

A couple of shop fronts were permanently closed, another one had a sign claiming to be "closed until further notice", and one of the upstairs flats had broken windows and a charred streak across its walls. A withered flower wreath had been left by the bench Old Harriet used to sit on – she told muggle fairy tales to children whose parents were busy with their shopping when Sirius had been younger, not that Father and Mother had ever let him listen in.

Exeter's was still open, with two stone-faced wizards guarding the entrance and a huge security troll next to the large shop window – there was a tall arrangement of flowers too, most likely to keep its odor at bay, that the troll kept eyeing dubiously.

It didn't look like any trouble was to be found here.

Sirius checked the time – three sixteen – and resolved to try and find his family. They'd discussed which shops they'd go to, so it shouldn't be hard, but they'd dispersed into several groups, and that would complicate the matter. He had no idea of where to find the ones who needed a new wand.

The obvious first step was to enter Exeter's, because there was a consequent chance of one of the groups being there right now – he'd get more intel from them, even if it wasn't the right group.

Sirius gave the guards a tight smile and pushed the store's door open.

Exeter's was a shop with a rectangular room separated into two areas by a raised floor – it was easy to look past the racks of clothes of the first room in search of someone. The fitting rooms were up there, as were the employees' tools for any necessary alteration and the custom-command desk.

Lucretia Prewett – née Black, of course – looked a lot like Sirius' father – though with a more rounded face and longer hair – so it wasn't hard to spot her, towering over the kids she ordered around. Harfang came close to her height – the others were too young to even try and compete.

His aunt had four of the children with her: Harfang, Varsha, Almaric and Hyades. The older boy had a stack of pants in his arms, Varsha had been saddled with the shirts and t-shirts, and Almaric was heard rather than seen, mumbling about jeans behind one of the fitting curtains. His sister stood dispassionately under her great-aunt's eye, wearing a slim-waisted green dress.

Of course, Sirius could hear Lucretia giving instructions, all the way from the door, on the best way to determine if a set of clothes was appropriate for your complexion and clicking her tongue as she sent the youngest girl back into a fitting room.

"No, not green. I thought, with your eyes, but you look too much like Bellatrix wearing that."

Sirius made his way through the ready-to-wear area and up the three-step stairs, and caught the owner's eyes, who was hiding a smile behind her right hand. Exeter seemed to find the whole thing humorous – and since the kids didn't seem to entirely hate this even if they were obviously done with Lucretia's handling, he'd allow himself to feel the same.

Hyades helpfully spoke up from behind her curtain:

"I like dark blue."

Lucretia clicked her tongue with approval.

"Good idea, dear. Ms Exeter, if you would..."

The owner tilted her head at an employee who'd been lurking behind the teens, obviously avoiding Lucretia's attention. The woman sighed, and disappeared through the racks in search of something that would fit a thirteen-year-old girl and be some shade of dark blue.

Mrs Prewett's eyes followed the employee for a second – long enough for Almaric to emerge from his fitting room with a scowl reminiscent of Sirius' younger years – but stopped as she noticed who'd just gotten there. Sirius' aunt squinted at him until her nephew finally brought himself to stand next to her – and then a sly smile split her face.

"The prodigal son, here for his own blood! Stand there and look pretty for a moment, will you? I need to assess if getting away from my brother and Walburga did in fact better your disposition, and we're almost done with the children anyway!"

Sirius didn't try to look polite and honest when he gave his aunt the requested smile.

"Aunt Lucretia."

He liked the woman well enough, but she could be a bit forceful – just like his mother, really, except Lucretia wasn't doing it to try and enforce bigoted views, so it wasn't the same at all.

She looked him over for a moment, smirked – and turned back to look at Almaric instead.

"No, you don't seem much changed. Perhaps a bit less angsty, but that could be the end of puberty. Still, you've survived, which is good enough as it is. Now, that is much better!"

Sirius blinked and only realized what his aunt was talking about when Almaric sighed in relief.

"Melania and I agreed that three muggle-passing outfits for each child would be best, you see, Sirius. One for a rather formal affair, one for outdoor activities, and one for everyday wear. I had, of course, to rely on Ms Exeter's expertise as to what is deemed appropriate in the muggle world, but colors are colors and even if I do not understand this fashion, shapes remain mostly the same. We're waiting on the last one for Hyades, beautiful girl, not half as stubborn as her likeness, too."

Sirius didn't comment on that one – Hyades looked most like Bellatrix, and was almost as similar to himself, and either way he didn't want to know which comparison Lucretia was going for here.

"There were no difficulties getting here?"

Lucretia snorted just as the employee returned with another set of clothes for Hyades.

"Not today, no, and I promise you I'd gut anyone trying to get their hands on the children."

He believed her, too.

Lucretia didn't like children enough to want any of her own – or to volunteer for several days in close quarters with with a bunch of those – but it wasn't like she actively disliked them either, and she was also viciously protective of anything she considered hers.

Family – hers, her husband's, her brother's, her best friend's – was hers.

"I know, Aunt Lucretia."

Maybe Lucretia wouldn't last in a drawn-out battle – she didn't have the training for it, to begin with – but she was fast and powerful, which would allow her at least one dangerous strike against anyone looking to get in the middle of her affairs.

A softer smile fell on the older witch's lips.

Then, Hyades walked out of her fitting room wearing a long blue-and-black skirt and tunic with rolled sleeves. She looked cautiously happy with it, too. Lucretia blinked and nodded approvingly.

"Good. I think we're done here. Ms Exeter, I suppose all your clothes have the standard charms weaved in?"

"Of course, Mrs Prewett. A high-quality anti-sooting charm, wear-and-tear protection, and a mild perception charm. Anything more would need additional tailoring, though it could be done. I offer muggle clothing, but it doesn't mean I do not adapt it to a wizarding lifestyle."

"Perfect, then. Let us move on to the bill and have your employee package all this so that my father's house-elf may collect it later. Kids, you are free of my tyranny for a few minutes, enjoy it."

The four teens shared looks – uneasy, a bit unsure, because except for Almaric and Hyades they did not know each other yet – but didn't have to be asked twice, looking around the shop instead – this time without expectations. Sirius might bring them back one day, if they asked.

Oh, an idea. Maybe he should try and spend half a day with each kid – only one of them at a time – doing something they cared about, for what remained of the summer holidays.

Lucretia dealt with the tab, and then Exeter nodded at them politely before wandering over to another client who'd entered the shop. Sirius and his aunt ended up alone while the store clerk finished up with their packages – they'd leave once those would be properly signed off.

"Is it your first shop?"

"It takes time, you know, to dress four teenagers appropriately. So yes, we've only been here since we separated from the others, after Gringotts. The service is surprisingly good for such a novel establishment, if you must know."

Lucretia had never felt the need for muggle-passing clothing, and Exeter's was fairly new, so it stood to reason that she wouldn't have walked in before. Her nephew decided not to comment on the other ways that last sentence could be taken – mostly because he knew her not to be overly interested in blood politics, even if she'd had the same upbringing as everyone else in the family. As long as she hadn't been overtly rude to the owner or the employees, Sirius didn't care.

"If you say so. Could you tell me where the younger ones headed first? I'm supposed to be there when they get their wands."

Lucretia's gaze shifted slightly – almost calculating, but not quite – and she took a moment to watch him before answering:

"I suppose you are referring to Dad's group. He and Aunt Theresa took the three youngest and the two others who need wands with them. They headed to the shoe shop, by the ice cream parlor."

Shoes. They hadn't talked about shoes yesterday, but obviously someone had thought of it, in the end. Also, underwear. He hoped they'd thought of that too.

Sirius made to move, to get back on the street:

"Thank you, Aunt Lucretia. I'll be going, then. Take care of the children, please."

But the older witch reached out, put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped. The look he gave her was slightly puzzled, and Lucretia shook her head.

"A moment, will you?"

Sirius nodded – "Of course, what is it?" – and he couldn't help but think, this was what was so complicated with his family – beyond the more obvious issues, his mother's instability, the centuries of blood and politics and blood politics, the casual cruelty they all had deep inside.

A Black would look at you and ask something politely, but they would also make it sound like a trap, and no one wanted to walk into a trap.

The thing was, it wasn't always a trap. Maybe there had been times his father had wanted to say something comforting, to be proud of his children – but he'd never sound like it beforehand, and not always during either. Maybe there had been times his mother cared, but what was certain was that any indication of worry was to come with a rebuke of everything else. Maybe there had been times Grandfather Arcturus meant well, but he always measured his words and never said enough.

Sirius was probably guilty of it too, in some ways. To know for sure, he'd have to ask someone else, someone who had to deal with him often, and he wasn't going to do that. James and Lily had no idea what it was like growing up in a family like his, Remus always ended up being both understanding and judgmental, and Peter wouldn't want to tell Sirius what he really thought.

Whatever Lucretia wanted to tell him...

She'd say it anyway, so Sirius might as well walk into the trap – if it was one.

His aunt didn't look around them, didn't check if one of the kids – if the clerk, maybe – was listening in. She simply looked him dead in the eyes.

"All this... I never took you for someone who seeks out love, Sirius. Yet, those children are here. They're here and they have different mothers. Several women you had a relationship with, or would have had, if time had gone on the way it should have."

That had Sirius floundering.

He had no idea what to answer to that – if there was even a question in there.

No one had really talked about the mothers to him, not beyond who they were. He hadn't... He hadn't even thought about it.

And yet his aunt was here, telling him... something... on the matter of his feelings for women he might never meet, whom he would never get together with. Women he was suddenly hiding something from, even when he didn't know them at all – because it was better for the children, at least for now.

Lucretia closed her eyes for a moment, as if looking for whatever it was she wanted to say – as if it wasn't obvious at all, not even to her.

It certainly wasn't to him.

"When... When you were younger, when you still visited, when I could still see you in Grimmauld Place, you were always so focused on other things. You haven't once talked about girls, not that I know of, and for all that your mother..."

Sirius winced, and his aunt shook her head, a frown on her face, before continuing as if they hadn't both reacted to the simple mention of Walburga Black.

"... had many things to say regarding your choices, she never complained about your partners. I've always taken it that you weren't interested in that kind of things, but now I have to reconsider."

Sirius automatically looked over at Hyades and Varsha, whispering by the window, at Almaric, eyeing muggle sportswear, at Harfang, watching the shop clerk as she finished the last package.

"I guess you could say that."

Now that Lucretia had brought up the topic of his – non-existent – love life and the obvious implications concerning the children, he had to admit to a measure of surprise.

It wasn't that he'd expected to never have a relationship or children, but he hadn't had any expectations on the matter, generally speaking. Sirius wasn't looking, but he guessed he wasn't against the possibility either.

Lucretia sighed. Her arm fell back to her side.

"Are you alright, Sirius?"

No one had asked him that either. Sirius himself wouldn't think to ask it.

"I... Probably. It could be worse."

He took a moment to absorb the words, their meaning – and it didn't matter that he was the one to say them, because he still had to consider what he meant by that.

"It's not that I refuse to have someone in my life, I think. And I did date a girl once, at school. But... It's not my priority, I suppose. If it happens, it happens. If not..."

Sirius looked at the children again and thought back to the little he knew about their lives, about the couples who'd been their parents until yesterday.

"It's not so easy as simple love for all of them, either. I... The little I gathered, one of the kids was not a mutual decision, more of something his mother thought would benefit her regardless of what I felt on the matter. The triplets... there's something there too, and I don't know what, but I'm not sure it can all be chalked up to a grand love story, you know."

It was in the way the three of them had talked about their "stepdad" at dinner yesterday, of the shady situation Sirius could vaguely distinguish behind some of their omissions.

Lucretia's smile was knowing and a bit amused.

"Oh, my adorable nephew... It never can be. Even when the grand love story is there... Well. There are other matters to consider, always."

Sirius wasn't sure what to make of her words, but she changed the subject abruptly.

"I saw Cedrella last week, you know."

"...You did?"

Most people in the family didn't willingly talk about the disowned – though his mother's cease-and-desist attitude was spectacularly extreme and most did acknowledge their existence when something else brought up the topic – so it was a bit weird to have his aunt bring it out of the blue like that.

Then again, Lucretia was Lucretia, and since yesterday Sirius wasn't certain he could differentiate between what was normal and what wasn't anymore.

Lucretia nodded.

"Of course. Her son married Ignatius' niece, after all, and they have a lot of children already. They had twins, last year, and Molly got pregnant again. There was a Prewett-Weasley get-together."

Sirius still didn't know where Lucretia was going with this – though it had something to do with the current situation, if only because it had gotten him to think of Cedrella Weasley for the first time in years and this wasn't a coincidence that his aunt spoke of her too.

"It was nice, seeing her. She told me she still saw Callidora from time to time, I gave her news about Dad. She went to my aunt and uncle's funerals, back then. Point is, My grandfather, your great-grandfather disowned her, but she decided who she'd keep seeing in the family."

Sirius squinted at his aunt.

"Are you trying to get me to see your brother?"

Lucretia gave him an unimpressed look – complete, with brows raised and lips thinned.

"Your father, Sirius. And no, but I am telling you that because you don't want to see Walburga it doesn't mean you cannot see Orion. In fact, do it, invite your father over, spend time with him and maybe let him meet the children too, and I assure you your mother will be fuming with jealousy."

Sirius' smile had entirely disappeared, and something heavy – unpleasant, unnatural – was sitting in his stomach all of a sudden.

He wanted – he wished he could, that it would be possible – to talk to his dad, of course he did, if only to ask him if he thought the same as his mother, if he agreed with her on everything, if the reason he'd so rarely spoken against her was because he agreed and not because he'd been raised by a man whose opinions had to be pried out with dragon-duty plyiers.

If he could have that discussion with his father... At worst it would make Sirius' assessment of both his parents a certainty, something for him to rely on those rare moments he missed his family.

He shook his head, denying it with his entire body – shoulders shrugging, posture firm and absolute and a Merlin-forsaken lie to boot.

"I'm not fifteen anymore, Aunt Lucretia. I'm not trying to anger Mother at every opportunity."

These days, angering her was an added bonus, not a priority.

Lucretia scoffed, her brown eyes – Grandmother Melania's eyes, Dad's – drilling into his, making it impossible to try and look away.

"It doesn't change the fact that you'd want her to storm over and be forced to listen to you for once."

"I don't want her anywhere near the kids!"

He'd blurted it out, and it was the truth – but, if there hadn't been the children to take into account, if it was only him and her, her having no choice but to listen to what he had to say...

That would never happen, anyway. Walburga Black didn't care enough about what her oldest son thought to listen, not if what he thought wasn't what she wanted him to think.

Sirius took a deep breath and forced himself to add:

"For their security. Mother isn't... She's not right in the head. I'm not letting her alone with any of them. ...And I don't want her anywhere near me."

Lucretia looked at him a long moment, and Sirius knew she'd heard it, he could tell from the face she was making. He was proven right when she asked:

"And is that for your security, too?"

Sirius could lie, here – and it would be convincing, of course it would be, but his aunt wouldn't be convinced for all that. She'd glimpsed the truth, and now it was too late.

Instead, he plastered a new smile on his face.

"I'll be going to meet with Grandfather. I'll... I'll think about what you said, about Dad, too."

Lucretia's face softened a bit, and she ruffled his hair as if he was still ten and reminded her so much of her younger brother at the same age. Maybe he still did. Sirius doubted he'd dismissed her doubts, but for now he'd take it.

"I hope you have a good wand-matching experience with the children, then, Sirius. We'll reconvene later, Irma suggested stopping by the ice cream parlor before going back to the manor."

"...See you later, then."

He left with the realization that himself and his parents were Lucretia's, and of what it meant.