My Very Own Miracle

Chapter 2

"Hey, boss, you alright?" watching the man who had been moments ago cleaning the bar's table but was now frozen like he was in shock. He'd never seen such a reaction before, did he need to go see a doctor? Moving towards him, ignoring the crowd for a moment, he stepped in front of Nix, so nobody could see him. "Hey, Nix? You with me?"

Then like it was a glitch in the matrix, Phoenix came back to himself, jerking back a little as he shook his head. Regaining his equilibrium. Dropping the clean cloth he'd been using moments before, he grasped a hold of Miguel's arm, "I'm fine." Phoenix promised him. "Just a little light headed, I'm going to head home for a few hours, can you manage the bar? If you can't get Helena to come in, offer her double time."

"You got it boss," Miguel agreed, it wasn't their busiest time of the day, he should be able to handle it until Alice clocked in. "You going to be alright getting home?" it was risky business apparating when you were ill, you needed all your focus and attention to prevent yourself getting splinched.

"I'll be fine," Phoenix agreed, pouring himself a glass of water, while he trusted his employees to an extent, he wasn't one for revealing anything about his personal life. Not that he thought there was anything really worth telling. Blacks were well known for their secrecy, and despite being born Phoenix Charlus Potter, he'd been raised by Dorea Black, his mother.

His home, which was on his own private island, swathed in so many wards it shouldn't have been found, let alone by accident. If it was an accident. An animal and a wizard, was all he could sense, no movement as of yet.

How had they succeeded in getting past his wards? He needed to get home fast.

Phoenix went to the back office, and apparated from the Phoenix Arms and straight home, to his own island. More accurately, his front doorstep, but still far away from the stranger intruding in his land. He moved swiftly in the direction they were in, lest he be searching for them for an undetermined amount of time. Freezing when he felt the wards changing from animal and wizard to animal and animal, two Animagus' or perhaps just one? Then they were on the move, cursing himself for not outright apparating straight into their path. He wasn't a foolish Gryffindor and knew better than to make his way into a situation blindly. No, he would take the greatest care, he didn't quite desire to die quite yet.

Five minutes later the wards stopped alerting him to movement. Whoever it was, they had ceased all movement for the moment. Were they setting up a trap? Who were they? And the better question, why? "Accio broomstick!" and the newest model, a Nimbus 2003 shot out towards him. They'd expect anyone on the ground, less likely to be looking up. Depending on which animal it was of course, he made a mental note to himself to add wards that identified any animal passing through his property, and one that would outright prevent any animagus coming inside. He'd foolishly never considered the prospect, more fool him, he had to ensure his safety.

Hopping on the broomstick, he soared into the air, before taking a wide berth around where he knew the intruders were. Roughly ten to fifteen minutes later, Phoenix begun to approach them as stealthily as possible. Keeping to the tops of the trees, cloaking himself, he didn't bother with the invisibility spell, animals (and animagus' could sense people under that spell so it would be utterly useless.

It didn't help that there was quite a wind, although, luckily, it was in the right direction that his scent wasn't shoved in the intruders nose.

Depending on how long one spends in their animagus form, they could retain some of their animal characteristics. Sense of smell, eye sight was a popular one, hearing too, sometimes if one was particularly lucky, they could do all three. It required immense will power and a rare kind of control to actively shift one part of yourself.

His gaze sharpened and shifted when he noticed movement, grey feathers was the first thing he noticed. How strange, someone had managed to get through his wards with a hippogriff. Disbelief suffused him, could someone actually accidentally gotten past his wards? It was beyond ludicrous to believe so…but what other alternatives could there be? Where was the second animal? It could be anything, he assumed that one was the human, not many animagus forms were magical animals, so he wasn't going to presume anything.

Moving around from tree to tree to see if he could spot anything, it didn't seem like it was a trap, didn't seem like anyone was out to get him. You didn't plan to kill someone and then just laze around far from his home, which was miles from here. It seemed unlikely that this was any attack of some sort. Still, he didn't want strangers on his land, he'd get them to move on, and then figure out how they blasted managed to get through.

After moving to see everything from another angle, he was about to begin to search again, when he noticed a black paw. Zeroing in on the sight, he lowered himself passed the tree tops, and blinked. A black dog, rather bigger than the usual pooch, curled up beside the hippogriff, were they deciding to sleep in the shade?

Phoenix dived down, intending on surprising them, his feet hit the sand, broom discarded, and that dog turned into a human quite quickly after that. Very familiar grey eyes met his own, just more haunted, and his breathing hitched, it was little wonder he got through. They were related, to some extent. He knew there weren't many of them left. Wizard, singular, as a matter of fact. Well, two if you included himself.

Transforming back seemed to have been too much for the wizard, he slumped down unconscious, completely out for the count. The eagle eye of the hippogriff watching over the unconscious wizard and him.

Sirius Black, he deduced as he solemnly bowed low, giving the customary greeting to the hippogriff, before righting himself. Patiently waiting on the creatures approval or disapproval whichever it's decision might be. He let out a relieved breath when the creature bowed back, then and only then, did he make his way over towards Sirius. Grimacing at the stink emanating from him, it almost had him gagging. Touching his forehead, and then his chest, he blinked, then blinked again. That was an Azkaban apparel? Had he escaped from Azkaban? But that was…impossible. He cursed; how could he be unaware of an Azkaban escapee? Surely such information had been widespread?

"Artie!" Phoenix called out, indecision suffusing him. Part of him wanted to just give Sirius over to the authorities, and be done with it.

A house-elf wearing a toga with a black sash appeared before his master, "What can I do for Master Nix?" polite, respectful and calm just as he'd been taught to be from a young elfling.

"Safely transport the hippogriff to the stables, give it food and water, and plenty of hay to rest on," Phoenix decided on a course of action, hoping he wouldn't come to regret it. Despite what he had done (something Arcturus Black decreed balderdash until the day he died) he was still family and Arcturus would wish for him to protect the wizard. Sirius Black was still a Black, he had never been (officially) disowned or disinherited. Which meant, he as Lord Black, had a duty of care for him.

He had been made Arcturus' heir when Regulus died and Sirius was imprisoned, with nobody else left from the main line. It had hurt Arcturus deeply to see his line ended. However, he was a Black by blood, if not name, and it was good enough for Arcturus, it was better than the estate ending up in the hands of the Ministry. In the end he'd changed his name in Arcturus' final days, to Phoenix Potter-Black. He'd promised to continue on the Black name and that was one oath he refused to break.

The house-elf was quick to do his masters' bidding, with a single shake of its sandals to remove the sand as he did so. Giving his own bow to the creature, awaiting confirmation that he was allowed to come closer. The house-elf had been very well educated in its history, politics, and magic, as well as the magical world's history, politics, and animal maintenance and care. They weren't uneducated leaches, they helped maintain estates, and definitely earned their room board. Anyone that mistreated the house-elves that handled their food and drink were completely foolish, and deserved anything that came their way.

Conjuring a stretcher, Phoenix set it to follow him, as he begun to head back towards home. The stretcher bobbed a bit up and down, but maintained the same level the long stretch home. He didn't use his broomstick, he merely just banished it back to its usual place, at the side of his front door. He occasionally caught the urge to fly, most of it was sated by his rounds, he did rounds around his island checking on his wards to ensure they were at full force. Nothing had ever been untoward until now.

Phoenix only paused once, which was to take off his work shoes which were filling rapidly with sand, and his socks. The sand was hot beneath his feet, but not overly so. What was he doing? This was the wizard who had betrayed James, Lily and little Harry. Abandoned his family, joined the other side only to betray them all, he didn't care about anyone except himself. Clenching his hand into a fist, as Arcturus' words echoed with him, "Sirius loved James, perhaps for far more than a brotherhood attachment, when Sirius loved, he loved wholly, the only way he would have betrayed him is if they had betrayed him first. There's something wrong, something isn't adding up. Sirius isn't capable of this."

Phoenix sighed, it was a good job he kept himself in shape, although, he was dying on a drink. It was rather hot today, it didn't help that there was no overcloud, the sun was just relentlessly hot. It wasn't even the hottest part of the day yet – nowhere near it as a matter of fact – he was grateful it wasn't. The wizard stank something awful, and cooking in the sun out for the count wasn't helping matters. "Artie?"

The same house-elf appeared before his master once more, "How can I help?"

"Fill the pool, lukewarm water, add something that will leave a pleasant smell, will you? Use anything I've got." Phoenix emphatically declared, his nose wrinkling up broadcasting his distaste. He'd likely need to scrub Sirius a dozen times before he managed to get the stink off him, there was an underlying scent of fish, salt, and horrendous dampness. Although, it could just be the Azkaban jumpsuit he was wearing. Actually, with a little luck it would be. "We're roughly the same size, I should have a few pairs of new pyjamas, set them to the side, and make up the guest bedroom for me." not that it needed much 'making up' just put new bedding on, and open the window, and that was pretty much it.

Artie held out his hand, and clasped a hold of Sirius' and teleported them out straight into the bathroom. Which immediately began to pour water into the pool, pine, Juniper and thyme begun to waft from the bath.

The house-elf didn't linger, it wasn't long before he heard the guest bedroom window opening, along with the shutters.

Phoenix removed the disgusting remnants of the prison jumpsuit with magic. Keeping his gaze from the chest up, it had nothing to do with being a prude. However, the wizard wasn't consenting, so he would refrain from looking it was only the polite thing to do. Not that he was anything to ogle at, he was emaciated, you could see and count each and every rib, his hips protruded, his stomach shrunken, he was so gaunt that honestly, it was a surprise to see his chest raising and falling, he looked dead. However, his gaze went from cautiously not travelling further than the wizards navel to narrowing in on the unblemished forearms.

Phoenix's heart stuttered; he didn't have the dark mark.

Which fair enough, not every single supporter of Voldemort's had the dark mark, he only marked his inner circle, his most trusted, his most loyal. Only someone foolish would mark a spy, especially if the other side was aware of the marks and what they entailed and meant.

Which isn't what caused his heart to beat too loudly in his chest.

The court transcripts…they had pictures and proof that Sirius Black was a Death Eater. So-called. Yet those pale (dirty as they were) unmarked forearms painted a stark and different picture. He knew they didn't disappear, not even after the 'Master's' death, according to the books he'd read, they remained as a reminder of their sworn lord and to whom they owed their loyalty.

"Bloody hell, Arc, you might have been right all along," Phoenix whispered, shaken, but that meant the Ministry of magic had lied, to a Lord, of an ancient and noble line. Right until he was actually in prison, Sirius had been the heir of the Black family, until Arcturus changed it with no hope of Sirius ever gaining his freedom locked up for life as he was.

They had lied about the heir, the only male heir of a prominent line. It was beyond pale, unimaginable, if they'd lied about the dark mark…what else had they lied about?

Phoenix could never imagine what he would discover in the coming months, it would shape the outcome of the war.

Removing his shorts, keeping his underwear on, as well as his vest, he levitated Sirius down into the water, pleased to feel it was lukewarm. Not that he doubted Artie for a second, he had never let him down, not once in all his years of service. With magic he didn't need to worry about him drowning, as he methodically and clinically begun to scrub the wizard of the years of grime, sweat and dirt and Merlin only knows what else with Artie's help. Within ten minutes the water was grey, and he emptied and re-filled the tub with the same scents twice over before they scrubbed him without the water turning murky.

Phoenix let Artie take Sirius away as he cleaned himself, feeling a little grubby, wondering when the last time the wizard actually got a good clean. Azkaban was so primitive, certainly wouldn't be accepted by MACUSA's standards. That level of dirt didn't just appear overnight, his injuries were healed by magic, Sirius' own innate magic he guessed. He'd know for certain soon enough, good job he knew enough about basic healing to help. He couldn't have anyone coming here and seeing him, he didn't trust anyone enough to bring them here, to his sanctuary, his home.

Never mind the whole escaped prisoner thing on top of it. There was likely a price on his head.

He stepped out of the pool, dried himself with a wave of his hand, and left his outerwear for Artie to collect later. He didn't wear things twice, the sweat made that extremely unlikely. He puttered down to the potions lab, and removed a few vials from his cupboard, knowing each of them by colour and consistency. He brewed them himself, another thing his parents instilled in him, don't take what you don't brew yourself or someone you fully trust. Too easy to Imperius, trick or otherwise bribe someone to get to you.

Given the state of magical Britain (from what he'd been told) it was little wonder his parents were paranoid. And why they chose to move away, purchase this island and make it unplottable. It was no wonder Sirius had managed to get through, bloody hell, he was blood, family. It made him feel better, but he was definitely going to check the wards, get in touch with Miguel and get someone in to cover him tomorrow as well, maybe for the entire week.

He had no idea how long this was going to take to make sense of.

Clambering back up the stairs, he made a beeline for the guest bedroom, only to skid to a halt, blinking owlishly, well, he looked a lot better clean and in clothes that weren't a decade old. "You cut his hair?" Phoenix enquired, "Must have been really bad." Cut was actually the wrong word. Artie had shaved his head.

"Hair unhealthy, he can spell it long once he's recovered," Artie declared, "Beasties inside." That and a decade of neglect, it's probably for the best, it had been straw like when being cleaned.

"Fleas?" Phoenix asked in amusement, "He's a grim animagus, if he had fleas in his hair as a human…he must have spent a long time as the grim." Worry furrowing his brow, what kind of affect would that have on Sirius as a person? He didn't know anything really, he'd only heard bits and pieces, and clearly those bits and pieces were wrong.

"Artie will make a light soup, something healthy, Mr. Black needs it," the house-elf stated giving a firm nod, he'd look after the wizard.

"This will help him get the nutrients he needs as well, put a few drops in each meal he has," Phoenix handed over one of the vials, "This one is a dreamless sleep draught. Give it to him after you've managed to give him at least one meal, he's sleep and magic deprived, he'll need a lot or rest in the coming days. Don't try to deal with him on your own if he becomes belligerent. You get me immediately and don't let him harm you, do you understand?" he had no idea how sane he'd be, if there was anything left of the wizard he used to be, or if he was feral. He wasn't going to lose his house-elf to a mad man if that's what he turned out to be. Which reminded him to put a few spells up to prevent the wizard from going anywhere that wasn't this room.

At least until he had a rough idea of what he was dealing with.

"I understand, I will do as Master Nix wishes," Artie immediately reassured his Master that he would heed his word.

Phoenix relaxed, rubbing his temples, "I'll sit in here for a while," he decided, he'd get a book and a cup of coffee to settle himself down for a bit. He could wait to call Miguel for a while.

"Master will get dressed and I'll bring you something to eat and drink," the house-elf declared unafraid of any punishment, since he knew, his master would never think to hurt him.

"Yes, perhaps you're right," Phoenix conceded, he certainly wouldn't like to wake up to a half-naked wizard regardless of what was happening. "A coffee please," with that he left the room, making a mental note to remember his book. Well, this certainly hadn't been how he saw his week going that's for certain.

"The spell is simple but powerful, the wand movements are circular motion thrice, then you call out the incantation with a firm calling..." Phoenix's soft lulling voice echoed around the room as Sirius groaned, coming to for the first time in what was now the third day since his appearance at Black Island, which is what Phoenix had called it, as an ode to Charlus' wife's family. He had been very close to them, until they eventually parted ways, the family was destroying itself with loyalty ripping the family in two. It was Arcturus' deepest regret. He was with his wife now.

Sirius jerked to alertness, but the soft warmth made it feel like he was swimming through tar! Honestly, he couldn't get his limbs to do as he wanted, if it worked it was delayed. "Who the he'l r yoo," he'd forgotten what warmth felt like, what sitting on a bed felt like, what calmness felt like.

Phoenix lowered the book he'd been reading, facing Sirius properly for the first time, only to see him blanch in shock as his eyes roamed over him. Clearly trying to figure out who he was, not that he'd have much success. He had understood what Sirius had said despite his slurred speech, it was a gift one acquired when dealing with drunk customers every day.

Sirius' breathing hitched, staring at the wizard in complete and utter disbelief, before he tensed, his eyes flashing in every direction of the room. Breathing shallowly as panic begun to grip him. He expected Aurors to come out of nowhere and arrest him, to put him back in that hellhole, with Pettigrew free and knowing exactly where his godson was.

"Good morning, Sirius, it's the third of July, you're in Brazil, on Black island, you've been pretty much out of it for three days." Phoenix spoke quietly, hoping to calm and reassure the panicked wizard.

"Wo the he'l r yoo?" Sirius asked, jerking himself into sitting position before pursing his lips as the urge to vomit hit him immediately.

Phoenix slowly stood, before walking over to the bedside cabinet, and poured water into a cup with a straw, "Here, you're dehydrated still, drink up."

Sirius stonily stared back, suspicion written across his face, baring his teeth not trusting him the slightest. He hated how familiar he looked, how just looking at him had trust and happiness suffusing him. Made long forgotten memories surface to the forefront of his mind, as blurry and diminished as they may be. He felt safe and he didn't trust the feeling at all.

"There's nothing wrong with the water," Phoenix promised, unsurprised by Sirius' caution and suspicion. He was a Black, it came with the territory, too many enemies, and go figure it would be torn apart from within. He drank deeply from the cup, quenching his own thirst, before he poured a second. He handed it over, Sirius really needed it, his mouth was so dry that if not for his ability to understand garbled speech, he wouldn't know what on earth he was saying. The warmth of the island likely did not help matters either.

Sirius stared blankly at the cup, before drinking it all, once the first drop touched his lips, he drank until it was finished. It had been so long since he had fresh cold water, for hundreds of billions it was taken for granted, but to the lone few? It was a nectar they would never take for granted ever again. The guards didn't give them fresh water, they got stale bread, stale food and if they're lucky half a cup of water a day and it was definitely not fresh. He didn't want to dwell on what they did to his water, although, he wasn't as badly off as what the guards did to the Lestrange's.

Phoenix held the glass pitcher forward, and refilled it, he pondered on whether being family would make Sirius trust him or distrust him entirely? Well, no matter, if he didn't want anything to do with him, he wouldn't bother. He'd given up the thought of having more family after Arcturus died. Inhaling sharply, he set the pitcher down and moved towards the open window staring out at the sandy beaches with a bit of wistfulness. "My name is Phoenix Charlus Potter-Black."

Sirius froze, the cup falling from his nerveless fingers, blinking rapidly, did he hear what he thought he just heard? Or was he hallucinating? It wouldn't be the first time; he'd hallucinated James and Lily frequently whilst stuck in Azkaban. "What?" he croaked breathlessly, at least it wasn't incoherent.

Phoenix turned around, facing Sirius again, "My name is Phoenix Charlus Potter-Black."

"That's impossible." He whispered, but the impossible was staring him in the face, the man was a perfect blend of a Potter and a Black. Grey eyes, black hair, definitely had the Black tallness, but his face was from the aristocratic Potter family. The jaw, the forehead, the nose it was…it was…it was all Dorea and Charlus. They hadn't had a child, the one child she'd managed to carry to term had died…he stated as such to the wizard who definitely couldn't be anything but a combination of a Potter and a Black. He really should have noticed it right away, well, he'd noticed the eyes, but that was it. His mind wasn't what it used to be, which burned something fierce, he was very intelligent even if somewhat impulsive.

"They did think I was a squib," Phoenix answered simply, as if he didn't care, "They decided to leave, they couldn't stand watching the family tear itself apart from the inside out. I was just the…incentive that cemented the decision so to speak."

"Think?" Sirius asked, shakily putting the cup back on the bedside cabinet, his arms felt like lead.

Phoenix noticed the pauses between their conversation, as if he was having trouble thinking, which was understandable. He had been in the company of dementors for at least twelve years. It took him a while to think, even longer to reply it seemed. He would need to speak to a healer about possible solutions to help him recover, surely there was a potion or something to aid them after being surrounded by Dementors all the time. Phoenix hummed softly, as he returned to his seat, "It's funny, Dumbledore's lot preach equality for all, but squibs are nowhere on the list. I wonder how many of their families have squibs they don't talk about out of humiliation." He was just echoing his father now, bless his heart. "Never mind, just parroting my mother." waving away the indecipherable look on Sirius' face.

Sirius swallowed, Dorea, he was talking about Dorea…he couldn't believe it, they'd hidden Phoenix's existence from him. Had James known? Did anyone? They had died four years before he ended up in Azkaban. Both Dorea and Charlus as a matter of fact, they'd had the death notification from Gringotts, there had been no funeral, whatever preparations they'd asked to be done were seen to and no funeral. She and Alphard had been his favourite relatives, and neither had survived the war. He hadn't understood what happened to Dorea and Charlus, they'd very rarely stepped foot in the magical world (the UK magical world) towards the end, only occasionally visiting them. He'd thought she couldn't bear to see them all with children, so had chosen to distance themselves. He hadn't been interested at the time; he was ashamed to say. Too interested in doing as Albus asked, and doing what he could to keep his best friend, his best friends wife and their son safe.

"Why did they think you were a squib?" Sirius asked, trying to focus on what was happening right now. It was difficult his mind continued to wander, as memories he hadn't thought about in so long assaulted him. It was like seeing them for the first time again, he was suddenly so very tried, his body slumped back into the warmth of the bed.

Phoenix moved over to Sirius, sitting on the edge of the bed, when Artie popped in with a bowl of homemade chicken broth, it was that good that Phoenix himself had it both evenings as an appetiser. Sighing softly, he requested a cup – a spoon would just be incredibly messy – so that he could eat. This time though he would be coherent enough to drink it. "I'll leave that for you to figure out," he informed Sirius, as he poured half the bowl into the cup, and helped the wizard drink it. Alarmed by how easily he'd slipped into being completely lethargic. He couldn't even hold his neck up; he was having to do that while he drank the chicken broth. He spelled Sirius dry from the water, so that he wasn't lying in it until it dried.

He'd been getting potions for three days, food and water, surely, he should have been able to stay coherent for longer than five minutes? Merlin, he wished he'd did a course on healing, he might have known better how to deal with this. By the time half the broth was done he had passed out. It wasn't as if he could ask people about the effects the Dementors have on people, they weren't stupid, they'd put two and two together.

Another house-elf popped in, this one had a purple sash on top of their toga, she'd stitched stars and moons with silver thread, and her name right at the top shoulder of her sash her name was threaded, Dora, after his mother. She was quite young in house-elf terms, but was a sassy young thing that was Phoenix's personal house-elf, it was one of the last things his mother gave him before they died. "Information Master Nix requested." She told him, handing over the folder that was as thick as a wrist.

"Thank you, Dora, there's plenty of chicken broth in the kitchen, get some rest after you've eaten, you have today off, resume duties tomorrow if you feel up to it." Phoenix informed her with a smile, as he accepted the thick and heavy folder. Pondering on just exactly what she'd brought him, he'd needed up to date information and had asked her to go.

Sighing softly, he set the cup aside, before deciding to leave the room and sit somewhere else. He was getting tired of looking at the same four bland walls of his guest bedroom.

He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he was about to read. He could feel it in his bones.

A/N – so will Phoenix tell Sirius about Arcturus believing him or would you actually like to see the memories? Will there be more to Phoenix Charlus Potter-Black than we know? I actually had the passing thought to make him Harry in a different form (MOD having time-travelled and forgotten everything and truly thinking he was Phoenix Charlus Potter-Black) but I doubt I'll go down that road yeah, my mind goes all over the place when it comes to stories! Soooo, why doesn't he have custody of Harry? Will there be a tangible reason or will he have stayed away duped by dumbledore into believing it was for the best? So many ways it can go but I don't want him to be another Remus, although to be fair he doesn't know them (much) I'm still going back and forth whether James knew about him and maybe had him as one possible guardian for Harry if anything happened to them *shrugs* I'll know for definite in the next chapter, most of all though I'm right iffy about an OMC being the central character in a story but we'll see how it does! R&R please!