Chapter 23: Like a family

Sirius pushed his way into the sitting room on the first floor with his shoulder – his hands were currently taken by both the baby and the letter he'd been penning.

One of the children was sitting with his grandparents instead of mingling with the others, he noticed. Sirius had crossed paths with the triplets – who'd been trying to get into Juliet's good graces – by the balustrade over the grand dining room and Nashira and Dana heading outside, and he didn't doubt the others were doing one thing or another, but not Altair.

The twelve-year-old boy'd apparently rather spend time with the oldest people in the manor instead.

It wasn't, per se, a problem – Merlin knew anyone here could benefit from a cordial relationship with the masters of the house, especially if Grandmother Melania was here to keep everything proper and away from certain topics – but it was only the second day and maybe Sirius should keep an ear out in case Altair had a difficult time getting along with the other kids.

He adjusted his hold on Fania, who rumbled against his chest but didn't wake, and sat by the blue-eyed boy. Grandfather Arcturus arched an eyebrow at him.

"Are you done, then?"

Sirius shielded a yawn with his left arm and handed the letter over at the same time. He wasn't going to stay up late if he could help it, but dinner wasn't yet ready and he should at least see that through before heading up and collapsing back into his bed.

His grandparents started reading the letter he'd written for Dumbledore on the matter of the children, whispering to each other.

Sirius blinked and saw that Altair was looking curiously at Stefania.

The baby had woken up and was staring back, too.

"Do you want to hold her, perhaps?"

The boy hesitated, shook his head.

Later, perhaps.

"I've never seen a baby up close. I didn't get out much, after Grandmother died, and even then..."

Altair bit on his lower lip, quite obviously unwilling to say too much and start a conversation in particular. That meant, of course, that Sirius should endeavor to get into it at some point – he knew all too well what it implied when teenagers didn't want to talk about their home life – but not now, not yet, and certainly not so abruptly.

He did know how wrong such a conversation could go if you weren't careful.

What he could do right now was to keep it in mind for later.

Sirius let his hair be tugged at by Fania and shrugged.

"The only other one I've ever held is Andromeda's girl, a few years ago. I hardly remember back when Regulus was that young... Ah."

Come to think of it, Altair was the one who'd gotten involved with Regulus and his... acquaintances... during the afternoon. There were so many children in Black Manor right now, he hadn't quite realized. Altair and Dana and Evan Rosier trying to corner them, and then his grandmothers had intervened and the Longbottoms had gotten there and Sirius himself with the children in tow, so it had hardly been a confrontation by that point, the others hadn't been in direct contact with Rosier like those two...

Sirius eyed the teen critically. He doubted that anything had actually happened – even if the other wizards out with Regulus had also been Death Eaters – and Sirius didn't know that for all the opinions he had on the matter – they weren't going to endanger their easy lives by being criminals in public – but he could be wrong, and anyway, it wasn't a positive welcome to what had to be the past for the children.

"You've met him today. My brother, Regulus."

Altair nodded but didn't look at him.

He had a finger tentatively reaching out for Fania, and the baby's little hand had left Sirius' hair lock and was now pocking out to grab the strange object hovering by her torso.

"...I know. He didn't say or do anything, though. Just looked at me a bit weirdly."

Sirius snorted.

"He was probably wondering who you reminded him of. Typical Regulus, that; not getting involved but letting things proceed as if evaluating the need to do anything should come before anything else. He'd let someone get mugged because he wouldn't know if they're 'worth defending' and then bemoan that he missed an opportunity should it turn out that they were."

Unless, it seemed, it was about becoming a goddamn Death Eater.

Not that Sirius had any kind of tangible proof, but he'd recognized that voice during the latest raid he'd been sent to with Moody and Smith. Even with the mask, even if they'd been several fighters apart. Regulus hadn't cursed anyone badly that day – first time, perhaps? – but he'd tripped Carnegie as the Death Eaters had retreated and that was why they'd lost the prisoner the old auror had managed to corner.

Actually, that sounded exactly like Regulus, too. Unwilling to get his own hands dirty, but letting others do whatever they wanted and then helping them get away with it.

This time it was Altair who stared at him silently, a cautiously curious look on his face – the kind that said he was used not to ask, maybe to being scolded for getting interested.

"...What's the odd look for?"

Altair's face twitched, but the boy didn't close up on instinct. Good. Whatever had happened to him before was either not so bad that he'd freeze any attempt out, or it had ended a while ago and he'd started... recovering.

Or something. Sirius wasn't sure how people would call all this, he only knew what it looked like.

The boy looked back at Fania, who was still playing with his fingertip.

After a while, he mumbled:

"You're less... bitter. About your brother. My fa... Dad mostly doesn't want to talk about him at all."

Sirius noted the hesitance over "father" and "dad", and moved on.

Which meant he grumpily sank into his armchair.

"I guess your dad got to know more about Regulus' hobbies as a grown man. More things to blame him for. Longer for him to get worse."

Just because the future him who'd married Eleanor Rowle had apparently reconciled with his brother – their children knowing each other and all that, the discussion at dinner yesterday – it didn't mean that it was true for all the children. They'd gone through that already: different futures, different choices, different everything.

Altair didn't answer right away, face carefully blank in a way that meant he was hesitating over what to say.

"Dad's bitter about a lot of things. I think... I think he's right to, mostly. He... someone framed him and he got thrown in Azkaban for something he didn't do. When he... got out last year, he came for me. He doesn't want to be horrible to live with, so he just doesn't talk about the things he hates. Or anything that makes him angry one way or another."

Sirius closed his eyes and didn't ask.

Didn't ask about the frame job, about who had done it, about why no one had stepped in, about Altair's mother, about how long Azkaban had lasted for him.

He might ask, one day – but not right now. Because Altair was visibly uneasy with talking about himself and a lot of other things, and he'd just given him something even though they'd known each other for a day and a half, if that.

The fact that he didn't like the little he'd been given didn't matter. None of the children were rooted enough in this time to start and dig into their past – his might-have-been – quite yet.

Altair was perhaps the less likely of all the children to open up.

Someone moved by his side and Sirius felt arms taking Stefania from him. He opened his eyes.

It was his grandmother, her face a composed picture of comfort.

Right. Her and Grandfather Arcturus had been sitting just there too. They'd likely heard most of the conversation. His letter to Dumbledore hadn't been so long and complicated that it'd hold their attention all along.

Grandmother Melania sat back down, the baby snuggled delicately against her chest.

Sirius allowed himself a glance at Altair – the boy was looking down, at no one in particular, as if to reject inquisitiveness. He'd been right, then: no more revelations for today on that front.

"I see you've thought to include the matter of the children's exams. It won't be a problem for the youngest ones, but the older ones cannot simply start a new year without any academic priors."

Sirius' grandfather was still eyeing the letter, a frown on his face – but there was no doubt that he'd been listening, too. Arcturus Black simply didn't want to talk about it, because there wasn't much to be said. They still lacked so much context, they couldn't just start speculating – and Altair very much didn't want to say more.

Sirius had asked his grandfather not to push the children, and this was exactly what the old wizard wasn't doing right now. He had no reason to complain.

"I do realize how school works, grandfather. It hasn't been that long since I've left Hogwarts, you know."

He didn't add "unlike someone else", but Grandfather Arcturus still looked up and raised an eyebrow at him sardonically.

"You'll be using the manor's owl, I suppose?"

"I'm not going to fly that letter myself, no. Not sure what would be the point of having written it out, then."

"You could have gotten yourself an owl."

"Did you see me bring an owl yesterday?"

"I don't watch over your every move, Sirius. You've always liked animals, it's a likely assumption to make. I'm certain you will reacquaint yourself with the other residents of the domain before long, too. In fact, I..."

"There are pets in the manor?"

Sirius and Arcturus blinked at each other before they focused on Altair – the boy looked discreetly interested. Hopeful, even.

Another one who liked animals. Arcturus nodded to himself, far from surprised.

The family ranged wide on the matter, but there were always a bunch of them who had a knack with animals – even when some others just had them running for the hills, like Bellatrix or Cygnus. Arcturus himself wasn't very involved with the various species roaming around the manor's grounds – though he did like watching others play with those animals – but Lucretia had always been entranced by them, and Sirius was even worse – he was the one doing the entrancing. Any beast, no matter how savage or wild, to which he gave a moment of attention somehow ended up curling against him in a few minutes.

That had been the only one of Sirius' peculiarities Walburga had never gotten angry with, given that his daughter-in-law did have a soft spot for animals too – but they'd started avoiding her in the last decade, and Arcturus couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't yet another consequence of her growing madness.

At least she had allowed her son a pet of his own from very young.

Arcturus focused back on the boy – one of those who didn't look much like Sirius or the Blacks in general, and yet... It was his behavior, very different from what the family was used to, and at the same time reminiscent of his father's younger years, that the old wizard could recognize in Altair.

Exactly the parts of Sirius' early personality that spelled problematic relationships within a family. Because of all things, it had to be that one.

...Most likely they should go the same way with that boy, then: getting him a pet of his own. That, if nothing else, should be feasible fairly soon.

"They aren't pets, no, except for our owl Mystique. But there are semi-domesticated animals roaming the grounds. We've got a pack of magical dogs, hellhounds, grims, a cerberus, too. Fairies living in nooks and crannies, ravens and crows in the woods. All these are used to human presence and won't attack you children for no reason, but they don't usually come and seek attention either."

Arcturus threw a look at his grandson there.

"Well, not unless you are Sirius himself."

"I am inordinately popular, am I not?"

The old wizard almost rolled his eyes.

Melania put a hand on her husband before this could become a battle of wits. Their standing – Arcturus' especially – with Sirius was shaky enough that banter could soon degenerate into arguments and should therefore be kept within limits for now.

"We should tell all the children about the animals, dear. They are friendly enough, but still."

She was right, of course. Even if the elder wizard had added the children to the wards – which also meant that, within the walls of the domain, they would be recognized as masters and mistresses by the other residents and thus allowed a degree of protection – there could always be minor accidents. Children and teenagers, if anything, could be unpredictable and come up with unexpected ways to get into trouble.

"Right. We'll do that at dinner, then."

Arcturus folded back the letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts – he personally had mixed feelings about the policies the school was now following, but he didn't outright disagree with any of Albus Dumbledore's choices on the matter – into its envelope. Sirius' sharing of information was satisfactory for its intended use – to get a place for the children when the school year would come again – and the Black lord didn't doubt that his grandson would tell Dumbledore more in person, so there was no point trying to regulate any of it.

A discussion, perhaps, to at least come to an agreement on the matter – but, later.

Melania's eyes wandered for a moment in the silence, thinking – but she'd noticed the same thing her husband had, about Altair, and that had brought her back to her grandson's pet.

"Sirius, speaking of pets... I did not see yours? Don't tell me that darling died already?"

Her grandson's countenance shifted immediately into something that strangely reminded Melania of his cousin Narcissa. Almost snobbish – but why on earth would Sirius feel superior about his pet of all things?

"Scallywag is perfectly well, thank you. She should still have a handful of years ahead of her."

Altair looked surprised and curious, of course.

"Scallywag?"

Melania smiled at him, remembering a little boy running around with a black snake on his shoulders or in a pocket.

"Sirius' uncle Alphard came back from a trip to Mexico about fifteen years ago with a pet snake, but she took a liking to Sirius instead and Alphard decided he might as well let the snake be. Sirius was absolutely adamant that she must be called Scallywag."

Said snake owner's nose scrunched up.

"It was sixteen years ago and Scallywag is the best. I'll have you know she was the only snake allowed and beloved within Gryffindor tower, for she is the sweetest and does not belong in a damp dungeon."

"...Right. If you like her so much, where is your pet, Sirius?"

Arcturus sounded a bit aggravated as he asked that, but Melania figured it was because of the "damp dungeon" comment. Her husband had always been oddly defensive of his old common room under the lake. A young Arcturus had once been indignant to inform her that the Slytherin dungeons were not damp or cold and at least they had space, them, not like those eagles and lions confined to their towers. Melania had pleasantly agreed before he could get in a snit – after all, the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories were in the basement too – and directed the conversation towards another subject.

Sirius seemed absolutely unaware of that, though – and just as miffed as his grandfather, for different reasons. Melania's grandson scowled at no one in particular.

"I had Scallywag with me when I went to a shop in Redmarsh Cross and they just had a rainscale in the open, right there on the counter! Now my snake is at the Magical Menagerie until the eggs hatch, because someone couldn't be bothered to keep their virgin-birth-inducing-for-snakes gem under a protective display. Who does that, honestly?!"

Arcturus stared at the young man for a moment, obviously unsure of what to answer to that, but Melania couldn't help chuckling. The baby in her arms did as much.

Her grandson squinted at her.

"What?"

"Well, dear, I can't help but notice that your snake and you are becoming parents at the same time, both due to unexpected circumstances. And you haven't asked the menagerie to stop the pregnancy either."

Next to her, Altair bit his lip.

"Hmm, do you..."

Sirius looked a bit unsettled when he turned to look at the boy once again.

"Yes? Is there something you want to ask?"

The boy remained silent for a while, but eventually spoke up.

"...Do you intend to keep the baby snakes, then?"

That was a good question. Melania's grandson had a lot on his shoulders, even without taking into account the children. Auror training wasn't something to laugh at, especially in these times – and yesterday's incident aside, Juliet had been there already. It seemed unlikely that he'd want to keep a den of newborn snakes just for fun.

However, it sounded like Altair was asking for a reason.

Melania put her hand on his arm for a second.

"Do you wish for one, Altair?"

Sirius' eyebrows rose up as the boy mumbled without looking anyone in the eyes:

"I don't know. Maybe."

Melania and her husband's gazes shifted onto Sirius – who didn't seem to mind or notice, his face pensive as he kept all his attention on the boy.

"...I'd thought of giving one to Juliet, see if it might cheer her up, and selling the rest. But I don't need the money, so if you want one too..."

Altair opened his mouth, hesitated – the boy truly wasn't at ease with speaking up, and Melania found that alarming, frankly – and finally added:

"I... Ask the others, too. Maybe they'd want a pet, I don't know, but they might..."

"True... So, one for you, one for Juliet, and whoever wants a snake too. There probably won't be enough eggs for everyone, but I doubt they will all want one... Still, that's something we could do together, teaching the kids who want a baby snake how to take care of them. That being said, I won't be there all the time, so..."

"Do not worry about that, Sirius. I can keep an eye on the children and their prospective pets when you aren't available."

Sirius blinked at his grandfather, looking taken aback – and perhaps a bit unconvinced – and Melania sighed discreetly in satisfaction. Her husband had found a way to involve himself in the bonding-time-to-be without even meaning to, and this was one more step for them all to feel more like a family.

It wasn't always easy for her husband – and his family in general – to freely spend time with others, and he'd never entirely learned how to be honest about those things.

The look on Sirius' face said as much.

"You want to take care of pets?"

Arcturus's answer was only slightly mocking:

"What? Don't you agree that I am perfectly apt to take care of a den of snakes?"

Sirius squinted but refused to be baited.

"Now that you mention it... I guess that's one more thing for tonight's dinner. I'll go and post this, then. I haven't seen Mystique in a long time. I bet she still likes me better than you, Grandfather."

"Of course she does, young man. Now, take Altair with you and show him the owlery, we'll take care of Stefania until dinner."

Both their grandson and great-grandson left the sitting room after a last glance, and Melania thought this was a perfect opportunity to watch her composed husband start a discourse or another to the benefit of the three-month-old in her arms. It'd been a while since the old witch had last gotten to witness such entertainment.

Last time... Last time had been Regulus, babbling back at his grandfather when his parents weren't there.