Regulus was pretty hysterical, and nothing Sirius could say would change that. They locked him in his room under a stress-relief charm.

Narcissa returned sans Lyra, treated Sirius to a reproving glare after hearing the short version of events, and took control of the situation. She told their great-great grandfather Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait exactly what he should say to Dumbledore and sent him off. She forced James to swear on his magic not to contradict the story and had him relay mostly the same message to Moody, attributing the break-in to masked Death Eaters on a mission to sabotage Black interests. Dumbledore and Moody of course knew Bella had already been locked in the house, but for the rest of the aurors, they would blame the nameless Death Eaters for both her presence and death. Sirius, officially, had arrived to salvage the situation because Narcissa had sent Dobby to notify him as soon as she had escaped the house herself. It was, she said, the best way to explain Orion's impending about-face in whom of Voldemort's ex-followers he was willing to protect, for the traitor must have been quite close to come right through the wards.

Orion was still unconscious, but Walburga agreed to the lie when Narcissa told it to her. Regulus didn't, but he also didn't really understand what all had happened, so Narcissa just obliviated anything incriminating. They used Bella's wand, kept in a drawer in Orion's desk, and cast a few more curses at the walls, including several Avadas before snapping the wand in half and tossing it in the fire. Aurors came knocking on the door within minutes of James' patronus message, and Kreacher let them in after a nod from Sirius.

Two aurors were dispatched to deal with the Inferius in the attic, two more to investigate the curse residue on the stairs. One went with Narcissa to collect her and Regulus' statements, after which Sirius had asked they contact Uncle Alphard to get Regulus out of the house to somewhere less traumatizing. Moody accompanied Sirius and James to interview/check on Orion and Walburga.

Moody was the only person to display any suspicion at all about the story: his false eye whirled dizzyingly as he took in Orion's transfigured arms and carven flesh. He said nothing though. He acquiesced when Sirius requested permission to start repairing the damage, as Walburga flatly refused to let either herself or her husband be moved to St. Mungo's. No, they would bring healers here.

Sirius and James were released to return to Potter mansion around four in the morning. Sirius suggested he stay at Grimmauld, but James just clenched his jaw, grabbed his hand, and dragged him out of the house.

Neither of them had any interest in sleeping. Sirius changed out of his blood-spattered clothes, and James briefly went to reassure Lily and his mother that he was alive and well. They found themselves sitting quietly across from eachother at the dining room table that had become Sirius' main work area of late. James stared around the many piles of parchment. "What is all this?"

Sirius grunted and pointed. "Threats from my parents, threats from Sacred Twenty-Eight Heads and Heirs, threats from other Sacred Twenty-Eight, threats from non-Sacred Twenty-Eight purebloods, threats from mixed-blood Death Eaters, alliance offers, anonymous inquiries to see if I plan on being the next Dark Lord after all and if so how to help, bribes from Sacred Twenty-Eight, bribes from Ministry officials, other bribes, marriage offers Narcissa says I can't throw out yet, appeals for help that seem legitimate, appeals for help that seem suspect, appeals for help that are probably actually bait for traps, foreign correspondence, official correspondence from the DMLE, unofficial correspondence from the DMLE and Dumbledore and so on, press correspondence, invitations, draft responses Richard prepared for Narcissa and me to look over before I sign, hate mail from Light side folks that just want to bitch at someone but aren't trying to threaten me, and, er, fan mail. And this here's the new stuff." He tapped the pile closest to him.

James shook his head slightly. He leaned across the table and raised an eyebrow at the heavy cauldron sitting on the chair next to Sirius, which was also full of parchment.

"Oh, those were the anonymous, booby-trapped ones. Remus asked me to save them for him so he could practice his curse-breaking."

"Ah." They sat in silence for a little, waiting for the sun to rise. When yet another owl winged in to add to the pile, Sirius listlessly started sorting through his morning mail, removing a few more cursed letters. Really, sniffing those out was the highlight of his days. Some of the curses were pretty subtle. They'd probably have gotten him with one by now if he hadn't borrowed that one book from Bella back in February.

Then, "I should have been around for you more, Padfoot."

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not blaming you for keeping your distance." He looked up. "And frankly, I'm surprised to hear you say so rather than, I dunno, cursing me out for what I put you through this evening."

James looked away. "I don't think you'd have done all of that if... if Mum and I hadn't abandoned you."

"You didn't abandon me. I'm living in your house."

"Did you tell anyone else about what your father had threatened to do to your cousin? Moody, or Dumbledore, or Moony or Wormtail? Avery even?"

He'd told Cissy. "No."

"Yeah, didn't think so." He sighed. "Sirius, you're not thinking straight. I can't imagine what it's like to be in your position right now, but I know you wouldn't have... that things would have gone differently if you were in your right mind. If you had someone you trusted to be on your side to talk to and help you see sense."

"Back to calling me mad, I see."

"Because you are!" James half-shouted. "Merlin, we went in planning to rescue your cousin, and in the space of a few minutes that turned into killing her, maiming both your parents, casting the Imperius on me, and enacting some sick ritual on your dad! You have, like, no impulse control. Less than you had at Hogwarts."

Sirius stared back at the letter in his hand, just to avoid meeting James' gaze. He was thinking about Bella, about that last excited look in her eyes as she instructed him in how she wanted him to kill her. It was so different from the look of betrayal on the day Voldemort died, or the looks of grief and horror as she held her father's corpse or stared at Rodolphus' severed head. He wasn't sure if he regretted her end, really, not the way he regretted everything else he'd done to her. She had forgiven him. In that moment in the attic, he couldn't not do what she'd asked of him. He didn't think James would understand that, though. Not at all. "You'd have anger issues too if you had to deal with this shit," Sirius said instead as he tossed the letter on a threat pile.

"Yeah, I probably would. I'm not saying you're totally unjustified in fighting with your parents - we've always known they're the worst. But you went too far, and this is hurting you."

"I'm handling it."

"You're really not. Just because you're not spending all day hiding in a bedroom and you can successfully keep it together at the Ministry does not mean you're fine. What you did tonight, it's not normal."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, getting a little annoyed. "I'm not ill, James. I'm just..." he trailed off, searching a moment for the right words. "A shitty person."

"No, you're not, Pads. You're one of the best people I know."

"By the metric of a school popularity contest, maybe. But in case you forgot, I got kicked out of Hogwarts for exactly the same kind of thing I did tonight. The only difference is all the Dark magic I've added to my repertoire in the past year."

James shook his head. "It's different. What happened with you and Snape was, well, poorly thought out and wrong, but it was still an accident. And you felt bad about it right away. I remember; I was there."

"You think I don't feel guilty about all the people I've killed?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"I know you do," James assured him hastily. "But... what about what you did to your parents?"

Sirius shrugged. "They're alive. It's better than they deserve."

"You hurt them both badly. Permanently."

"No worse than things they've done."

"You scared the shit out of your brother. And you used the Imperius curse on me."

"For a damn good reason. Both you and Reg might have been hurt or even killed if you'd kept interfering," Sirius pointed out.

"Not if you'd stuck with the original plan to just leave if we couldn't get her out! I repeat what you did tonight was not normal, Sirius!"

"Not in your world, James, but it is in the Sacred Families."

James scoffed. "Not all of them. The Longbottoms..."

"Have nothing to do with it. Violence is normal in my family. You know, the people we were dealing with tonight." He scowled down at the letter he was currently holding. It was anonymous and read, You should have died with the others, Death Eater scum. At least it was succinct. "Sometimes, I think violence is the only language that everyone in that house can speak."

James cut him a look. "You including your seventeen-year-old brother in that? And even if it's true, protecting me and Regulus doesn't give you the right to use Dark magic to force me to do what you want me to. You aren't your parents, Sirius. You told me that for seven years. Well, what you did tonight was straight out of the Black Family playbook. I'm telling you you're not fine because you've lost sight of who you are. Do you want to be the scary Lord Black like you always complained about to me?"

Sirius stared at him blankly. No, he didn't want to be the way he was, stuck with the politics and the intrigue and the violence, but... it's not like he had an alternative at this point. Narcissa and Richard and even Dumbledore had been very clear on that. If he didn't step up and be the de facto Lord Black, he was dead or else abandoning a lot of other people to the ravages of his father's petty blood-supremacist politics. The biggest problem was that he was bad at the game. Brute force was all he knew how to use. Narcissa was the one with a strategy.

James smiled tightly. "Or do you want to be the friend I missed so much in the last year? The bloke who's smart and brave and determined and so, so kind and loyal to his friends and chosen family. That's the guy the Prophet says you are, you know."

Sirius snorted inappropriately. "The Prophet is a load of shit, much of it composed on my father's behalf. It says he's a saint too."

"Sure, but it's not that far off the mark from who you were at Hogwarts." He leaned forwards. "We were like brothers. Don't you remember? That's why I agreed not to tell Moody exactly what happened at Grimmauld. I'm still hoping my brother is in there somewhere."

Sirius hesitated a moment before saying slowly, "James, I'm not going to tell you I'm happy, that I like my life the way it is right now... but I'm pretty sure I've never liked my life? You're grasping for something that I don't know ever existed. You're just seeing now what I've always hidden. There is no better me waiting to be brought out. There is no 'back' to go to... So don't be too upset with yourself if you eventually decide you can't stand me anymore."

James shook his head. "You were happy before, here and at Hogwarts. I remember, even if you don't."

"I'm a pretty good liar. Ask any Death Eater how good I had to be."

"No, it was real. Question and argue anything else you like, but trust me on this. Please." He got up suddenly and walked around the table to hug Sirius. Not expecting it, Sirius just sort of froze in the chair. "If you were never happy, you never would have cast a corporeal patronus, Pads," James said with soft certainty.

Well. That was undeniably true. He shrugged helplessly.

"You forgot my dad with that ritual, right? I've been trying to figure out what that means going forwards."

Sirius half-smiled despite himself. "Any luck? I've thought about it too and haven't the foggiest."

"A couple things. For one, it's obvious you loved him." Sirius closed his eyes against a stab of guilt. Yes, that much was self-evident, which only made it worse and more confusing. "It's also obvious he loved you, enough to put himself in that house. Mum told me all about the arguments they had about it. They both knew it could end badly, but Dad said it was necessary to keep you safe. You had sent the Order so many details of the Inferius and Foulness attacks, Mum and Dad were convinced you'd be found out and killed afterwards even with all the precautions Moody was taking with the auror response."

"I almost was," Sirius admitted. "He tortured everyone looking for the spy and killed over a dozen one way or another the day after." He unconsciously reached a hand up to touch James' forearm, but his thoughts were far away, reliving Felix Mulciber's gruesome end. His fault, of course. He shuddered. James' embrace tightened momentarily.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of something like that."

"Hmm? Oh, don't worry about it."

That must have been the wrong response, judging by the way James clutched at him, but he didn't argue and instead continued his previous thought. "What I meant to say, is Dad knew what you were doing, mostly. Mum and Dad knew things on your end had only gotten worse since you went back after Christmas. Maybe not every detail, but enough. Even though they had been on your case at Christmas about the kinds of things you were doing then, Dad's opinion of you never wavered. He valued your life over his own, not because your mission was so important but because he loved you. He believed in you, prickly Black upbringing and all. I think... I think that's a big part of what you might have lost with that ritual, that feeling that someone you respect loves and believes in you, not just in what you can do for them."

Sirius fell utterly still, while James took a deep breath. "It's... hard for me to come to terms with, all the things you did in the war, not to mention seeing some of it first hand tonight. But I want to honor my dad's belief in you, because I still love you, too."

Sirius hadn't cried since the Potters rescued him from Grimmauld, but he felt tears pricking again just then. "Thank you, James," he whispered.

"Oh, Padfoot." One more squeeze, and James finally let him go, taking the chair next to him instead of the other side of the table. Sirius looked at him and saw his eyes were red too.

A band of sun crept through the window, though it didn't reach the two of them in Sirius' shadowed spot yet. Sirius gave a short, humorless laugh. "What do we do now?"

James shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm staying with you. We'll get through this together."

Sirius bit his lower lip. The optimism in James' eyes was curdling the the sweet warmth Sirius had felt but a moment ago. "I'm going to disappoint you," he said.

James flinched and tried to hide it behind a playful smile. "That attitude might."

The joke fell flat. "I'm going to disappoint you because for what I'm working towards - not just the war cleanup but other stuff that's objectively good that most purebloods oppose like civil rights for werewolves and squibs, compulsory muggle studies education, criminal punishment for domestic abuse and restrictions on incestuous marriages -" those and a bevy of Narcissa's other pet projects like inheritance law reform that Sirius sympathized with once she explained her grievances but would take too long to explain to James. "- well, I can't win those political battles as a pure hearted Gryffindor. I will have to do more things that you and your parents would never do."

"Says who?"

"Narcissa. Richard and his mum. My father, if we were on speaking terms and he were inclined to talk straight to me. Dumbledore. Moody and Crouch if you consider the number of crimes they're happily ignoring as any indication. The Sacred Families and the Ministry just don't work that way, particularly since the power I have is built on fear and force. Maybe I'll be lucky and the killing and Dark magic side of things is finally done as of tonight, but that's a big maybe we can't count on."

"And maybe it will be different after you've gotten your way on some of the most important things," James finished for him. Sirius nodded. "Well... so long as you're willing to trust me, and listen to me and any others when we try to help you come up with a non-screwed up solution to a screwed-up situation, then I'm still with you."

Sirius mulled that over and nodded again. "That's fair."

"No more repeats of last night, Padfoot. In fact, I might just get some more practice resisting the Imperius to make sure you can't ignore me again. See how well you can duel Dark wizards with someone nagging you the whole time. Like the mad talking cricket Lily used to bring up when she first became prefect and was telling other students off at school, before she realized only muggleborns understood the reference." Sirius snickered at the memory. James grinned. "And if I'm not there, your mantra is WWJD."

"WWJD?"

"What Would James Do."

"Ah."

"Hint: the answer is never going to be any kind of Dark ritual. Or Unforgivable."

"Noted. You know, maybe if you're that scared I'm going to go randomly kill someone when you're at work you should just institute a rotating schedule of stand in Chimney Crickets. Or else I might get confused and think to myself, WWJD, then go snog your wife by mistake or something."

For some reason, James took the suggestion seriously. "I can talk to the others."

"Please don't."

"If something might help you, we're doing it," James said firmly. "You might be busy being Savior of the Wizarding World and Bully of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but that just means it's up to the rest of us to make sure you don't hurt yourself trying to hep everyone else. And that includes not letting you be the Black caricature you spent our whole Hogwarts career running from. You didn't survive the war just to give up on your own life or happiness now. That's not something you get to argue about."

"Right. That puts me in my place... Thanks again, I guess?" After a moment of bemused silence, Sirius said, "I still oppose the idea of 24/7 Chimney Crickets. Seems like a sure-fire way to actually drive me to murder somebody out of sheer annoyance." At James' uncertain expression, he hastily added, "That was a joke."

Alastor lifted his face out of the pensieve to look at Albus. They had just finished reviewing Alastor's recollections of his visit to Grimmauld place.

"Hmm," was all the old headmaster said before striding over to his desk and taking up quill and parchment to draw out the runes Alastor had seen scratched and scorched into Orion Black's chest. He studied the finished array for a time, fluffy end of his pheasant feather quill tickling the end of his long nose, then jotted down some additional notes in the margins before summoning a reference book over from the hidden shelf where he kept the books too dangerous for the Hogwarts library.

He did not yet look up at Alastor. Alastor scowled and returned to the seat on the other side of the desk to wait. It was obvious Albus would say nothing of what he was thinking until he was good and ready.

It was half an hour and two padlocked reference books later that Albus finally set aside the quill and steepled his fingers, looking down at his notes with furrowed brow.

"Well?" Alastor prodded.

"Did you happen to include the details of these runes in your report, Alastor?"

"Not yet. I only filled out the basic forms this morning. It'll take me a day or two to complete the rest of the file, even considering Dawlish and Proudfoot did half the documentation at the scene."

"Did those two see Orion's injuries?"

"No."

Albus nodded. "You might suggest the burns were too extensive to make out the details of the runes."

"If you told me why, I might," Alastor said with a snort.

"Well... this array is not from any ritual I have encountered or read about before. It is either very old and rare or very new. I am not fully certain as to its function, but I should say it is evil enough, it is best left unrecorded."

"Keep going."

Albus' eyes twinkled at him fondly. He gestured at the parchment lying between them. "Very well. Gebo, meaning a gift of some kind, had pride of place over the left breast and heart. Othala signifies inheritance. Its position over the right breast - at the same level as Gebo - would seem to describe the nature of the gift. Fehu traditionally refers to livestock, but its subservient position compared to the other two and the smaller runes surrounding it invoke its secondary meaning of wealth and abundance. Take that with the fact that these were cut into his skin and that the other smaller runes here," he pointed to a vertical line of script Alastor recalled as running down Orion's sternum, "would work to subvert the primary function of Gebo and Othala..." He trailed off meaningfully.

Alastor scowled harder. "I've been up since two in the morning. Spell it out for me, old man."

"Well. My best guess is that the purpose of the ritual was a theft of some kind."

"Theft of inheritance?"

Albus nodded. Alastor looked at the parchment again, thinking. It didn't take a genius to instantly recognize what had happened to Orion Black wasn't good, and all the signs pointed to Sirius being the perpetrator rather than some masked intruder, but Alastor would have guessed it to be something more like the nasty old fealty rituals medieval wizards supposedly used. The Black family was old enough, they doubtless still had family records from that era. Theft of inheritance though? Sirius was already the Black heir.

If Alastor assumed Sirius hadn't been lying about what went down this morning, "Do you think Sirius is in danger from the, er, thief?"

"Quite the contrary. Did you not say you believed Sirius to be hiding something? No, I believe he has just proven himself in an unfortunately literal sense to be the 'greatest Black' Sybil predicted, besting his father in whatever confrontation they had last night. We already knew he was not fully aligned with Orion. Now, it seems to me he plans to fully usurp his father's political position. Young Narcissa's influence, no doubt."

"Not yours?" Alastor questioned. He knew Albus Dumbledore was a frequent visitor at the Potters' and moreso now than before Sirius moved in.

"Alas, no. Our relationship is cordial, but he does not confide his thoughts to me. Clearly, since I had no hint something like this was coming." He sighed, took off his spectacles and wiped them on his robes. "I handled Sirius very badly in the final days of the war, Alastor. Well, I did not realize those were the final days. I was focused on keeping him alive and in position where we needed him. I certainly did not plan for Sirius' role to become so prominent and so public. So I did nothing to prepare him for it, and my support therefore came too late for him to view it without skepticism."

"Your support?"

"Political support. Obviously I never would have asked Sirius to perform the Ritual of the Feast of Innocents had we known of its existence, but if we had known enough to plan ahead of time, we could have prepared the field and shielded Sirius from much of the pressure he is now facing. I certainly would not have allowed Orion Black to empower himself on Sirius' back as he has. What happened last night and this morning is the culmination of years of Orion's abuses, the trauma Sirius recently experienced, and my own mismanagement."

"Okay, and so you want me to hide the evidence of what we both know really happened and... do what? I care about Sirius as much as you do, Albus. I sure as hell don't want to arrest him and see him sent to Azkaban. But we can't just step back, wring our hands at our own mistakes and let him run rampage if this is the kind of thing he's going to keep doing left to his own devices."

"No, we cannot. But nor can we even attempt to control his actions as we did before. He is no longer a mere agent of the Order. I shall have to continue treating him as an ally, and perhaps a more equal partner than I have been." He stroked his beard and smiled suddenly at Alastor. "You might be able to treat him as a friend."

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "He's nineteen. I have nieces and nephews older than him. I doubt he would be interested."

"There are many kinds of friendship. Age need not be a barrier. And remember, you were also his sole companion on the Light side for the last year. Or at least, your portrait was."

"Acquaintance with a portrait is not a solid basis for any kind of relationship, friendly or otherwise."

"No, but it's an in that you can use. And you have been a more reliable resource to him than I, I fear. He needs some older influences he actually likes and trusts. He doesn't have any right now as far as I know. Euphemia has remained too distant in her grief, and I wouldn't count Madam Avery."

Alastor nodded slowly. "You have a point there. I object to you calling it an 'in' though. Sirius is a boy who we helped put through hell this year, not a political tool for you to exploit."

"Ah you see, that is why you should be the one to try to be his friend."

Author's note: I think I rewrote this chapter five times, even though it's just decompression after the last two, lol. It's hard because Sirius' relationship with violence is so complicated right now it makes him do and think things that seem inconsistent on the surface. On the one hand, aggression is what he knows, what he falls back on in moments of panic, and he has not moved on from wartime mentality where violent solutions are valid. On the other hand is guilt and a lot of self-loathing attached to that. Even while he's outwardly detached from his friends, he's inwardly too emotional to let himself accept the utilitarian calculations that kept him sane during the war. Thus he can't make peace with his actions. Hopefully James' olive branch, offering love despite Sirius' glaring imperfections, and any overtures from Moody to be a no-strings-attached adult acquaintance will do some good. They can't keep ignoring the fact that Sirius is a murderer, but they both realize being super mad at him won't help since he already feels awful about it and just can't seem to control himself.

Should be obvious, but for any readers not raised with Disney, "Chimney Crickets" refers to Jiminy Cricket from Pinocchio.

I'll aim for another update in two weeks, but tbh might temporarily switch back to the (happier, cuter) Snape-Petunia-Harry story so I can recharge the writing batteries on this one. I was hoping to be done with this story sooner by focusing on it exclusively and that clearly hasn't happened. We'll see.