Don't you dare complain about nothing happening this time. If you do, I'll strangle you.
Chapter 27: Something was about to change
A sharp pain in the chest woke Sirius suddenly.
It took him a good minute to realize what had happened. From the looks of his nightmares, he'd have guessed something had just gone too wrong this time... But no. It was much more important than a silly little nightmare. This pull, that he had first associated with pain, Sirius knew what it was... And it had nothing to do with nightmares.
He didn't even blink at the fact that he had fallen asleep in the sitting room, a Potter family album, which he had retrieved from Godric's Hollow a few days before, open on the table. He had been showing the pictures to Harry, and then... The boy had gone to sleep, he had stayed, and most likely fallen asleep here.
Sirius still wasn't used to living a normal life, and to sleeping in a bed, it seemed. Some days, he just couldn't.
Not the time.
"Bellatrix, we've got company. Get your ghostly arse down here."
The ghost may not hear him from wherever she was, but their link was more than enough to let her feel his intent... Which she had no choice but to obey. Sirius wasn't worried about her not coming.
Then he called for Sterhn, who went and fetched him a shadowed cloak. It was still summer, but it was also the middle of the night. And whoever hadn't come by the front gate, he didn't want to alert if they were still here, by wearing bright clothes.
Not that Sirius Black usually wore bright clothes.
He was already at the front door when his cousin's delicious voice let itself be heard.
"Can't a ghost enjoy the afterlife without being summoned every twelve hours? Speaking of which, it's two in the morning, Sirius. What the hell do you need me for?"
He violently pushed the door open as he answered the first demand. It didn't really matter, though; everything in this manor was spelled so that nothing short of an army of trolls could make a dent.
"No, you can't. But it's just you, because we're bound. Besides, I haven't asked for you since... three days and seventeen hours. Don't you dare get bitchy."
"It was a figure of speech, cousin dearest. And you still haven't told me why we're headed to... the East? At this hour? Do you have a friend camping on the property? I thought Lupin had left."
Sirius laughed bitterly at the question.
They were indeed headed to the East, when the gates were to the West. And the worst, he couldn't just apparate there, because he didn't know the area well, and had no idea what they'd find where they were going. He didn't think any intruder could have gotten past the wall and the enchantments upon it. It didn't mean they wouldn't have been able to get a few spells past the wards. It wouldn't have been easy to do, but it could have happened. Sometimes, all that was needed was a bit of novelty.
"Oh no, Bella, no one is camping on the Black grounds without you knowing about it, don't worry. But someone just tried to enter our property, and the wards have reacted rather... violently, dare I say. I've been woken up by the Manor, and I don't like that."
It would take them quite a long time to get to the eastern limit of the grounds and to reach the wall. Sirius didn't think that whoever had come would still be there when they arrived. He had to investigate nonetheless.
Besides, it would have been worse if it had been to the North. If it had been the case, he'd ought to have taken a few supplies. It was to the North that Black Manor's grounds went the farthest.
Now, as to whom could have possibly been stupid enough to try and break into the property...
"Do you have a friend, in your lovely club of sociopaths, psychopaths, and other -paths, who would be likely to forget that all ancestral homes of pureblooded nobility are under warding?"
Which wasn't something purebloods could forget so easily. It was even widely known that the Black wards were amongst the most powerful and the most dangerous home wards of Great Britain. Sirius himself had spoken about it, not so long ago. Black wards were... not friendly at the best.
Bella hovered behind him, puzzled. She couldn't really see who would be so out of it that they wouldn't know about the wards, unless they were muggleborns, maybe. And it was kind of unlikely that a muggleborn would have succeeded in, and more than that, would have wanted to join the Death Eaters. So, who could have forgotten?
"You think it's one of the Dark L... of Voldemort's men?"
Sirius dismissed the idea that it could be anyone else as flippantly as she had expressed it.
"Who else?"
Bella nodded to herself, deep in thought.
"I... I don't know who could forget about that. There are some idiots amongst the Death Eaters, but it wouldn't even be idiocy, at this point. They would be lacking a brain. I'm not sure all of them use theirs, but they sure as hell have one. But maybe..."
Now that she thought about it, it seemed so obvious. Back when she had been alive, and serving the Dark Lord, it hadn't even come to her to question his orders, but now...
"An idea to share with the class?"
"Voldemort doesn't really care for the Death Eaters' safety. He could have sent one or two of them to keep an eye on the manor, on you, or maybe to scout out the wards. To see if there's any cracks."
"That'd make sense. Or maybe it's only one of Voldepants' cronies who decided to do that on their own, and see if he couldn't get the spotlight latter on."
The ghost grimaced. Death Eaters had never been the most reliable teammates. There were a few kinds of people in there, and none of them fit the bill to play well together.
There were the psychos, such as Crouch Jr and herself, who only took orders from the Dark Lord himself, or from others such as themselves. Those did everything to please their Lord, and their Lord only. They always suspected the others of being traitors. Not good playmates material.
Then there were the people such as Lucius who did their best to stay ahead and collect favors. They were likely to try something without telling the others, and boast about it later if everything went their way. They weren't sharing people, that much was certain.
The only ones who wouldn't be likely to go on their own simply had no personality. Or, at least, they wouldn't be able to come up with an original idea, which was the case of her husband / widower Rodolphus Lestrange.
Bella shrugged the thought off. She had never loved her husband, even if she hadn't disliked him. Their marriage had been arranged. He would be an enemy if she met him again. There was no point in thinking about him now.
"Eitherway, I don't think they triggered the wards willingly. It was surely an accident."
The ghost flew past her cousin and turned around to look at him. She had never been able to walk backward when she had been alive, without tripping on something. Now that there was no more risk of tripping, she enjoyed talking face to face while moving along. Besides, it seemed to irk Sirius. Only one more reason to do it as often as she could.
The wizard arched an eyebrow at her.
"So what, one of them stumbled onto the wall and it woke me up? Do you have any Nymphadoras in your elitist faction?"
Yeah, said like that, it made the intruder sound a bit clumsy. Then again, not all Death Eaters were geniuses. Crabbe and Goyle Sr. were as far away from geniuses as possible.
"Our little cousin is good enough for a clumsy witch."
Sirius could understand whatever he wished to, Bellatrix wasn't going to say more. Not for now.
The wizard smirked a bit, apparently knowing very well what his cousin had meant by that. There was no hiding her reformed tendencies, it seemed. Oh well, if it allowed her to be partially forgiven without having to say anything outright for now, Bella would take it. She wasn't feeling up to asking aloud for forgiveness to everyone just yet.
All in all, it took them a good hour to get to the wall surroundeing the property. Bellatrix suspected her cousin to have wished to walk, because honestly, even if he shouldn't have apparated right at the limit of the property, he could have divided the time by six by apparating half a mile away from the wall, instead of doing the whole trip. Maybe Sirius only wanted some time to wake up before he had to possibly face an intruder... or maybe he simply wanted to enjoy the hike on the grounds of his childhood memories.
Because whoever had played with the wards of Black Manor, most likely wasn't here anymore.
Unless they didn't care about their life, obviously.
So it was that, at three o'clock, in the dead of the night, a wizard and a ghost wandered by a long and high black wall, searching for a door which would lead them to the outside world.
It didn't take long for Sirius to notice the glowing lantern that pointed out the backdoor from the inside. There were several of these on the wall of Black Manor, invisible from the outside, but revealed to the inhabitants, in case of flight... Or if someone was stalking the front gate. Only Sirius had the keys, which came with the Lordship.
He went first, because unlike his ghost of a cousin, the wizard didn't glow slightly in the night, and so his presence wouldn't be as obvious. They didn't think anyone was left to ambush them, but you never know.
The door was old, and hadn't been used in a few decades. It creaked. Sirius made a mental note to change that. If possible on all the hidden doors of the wall. He didn't want to be caught by a creaking secret door. He liked paradoxes as much as anyone else – maybe more than the average guy – but it wasn't one he intended on testing.
A quick homenum revelio told him there was no one left out there. He sighed, and noted that Bella didn't appear on the spell. Logical, in a way, but good to know. It could be of use later...
"All clear, Bella."
The ghost hovered through the door and joined him, suspicious.
She may be a ghost now, but she wasn't keen on getting a time-delayed hex through her face if some of her former allies had had a brilliant idea. Some spells could affects ghosts, after all. She was pretty sure that Walburga had heard of a time when Sirius and his friends had supposedly turned the Bloody Baron sparkly. From what she knew, he hadn't appreciated the joke.
Speaking of which, she really should be on guard with her cousin. Sirius seemed to accept her alright, but while he could control her with only one order if she tried to betray him, his acceptance also meant she was as fair a pranking target as any of his friends.
Bella didn't want to be turned red and gold anytime soon. Walburga's portrait was the current target, and Sirius wasn't as prank-oriented anymore, but still.
Who said the Blacks were paranoids?
As no spell had exploded in their faces yet, the two cousins supposed it was safe to start looking around. Just in case, you know, one of the probable intruders had kindly left their ID behind.
Sirius called forth a strong light with a lumos, and they started their search.
Himself, he found three sets of footprints, and a discarded chocolate frog card. It was Dumbledore's. Go figure why his formerly proud owner had gotten rid of it. Speaking of which, did the bad guys collect chocolate cards too? If so, how did they manage with all the good guys on them?
Sirius had to forget about that life-altering revelation, though, when Bella whistled appreciatively.
The wizard turned around to look at the blurred and translucent form of his cousin, a dozen of feet to his right. She was looking at something on the ground, next to a small tree which had grown against the very wall.
"Did you find something?"
The ghost laughed drily at the question, and gestured for him to come and take a look for himself.
"'Something' sure is accurate, but I think you could be more precise. 'Something' has been lost by one of our wannabe intruders, that's for sure, but I think one of them must be greatly pained by that loss."
Bella's vagueness did the trick to trigger his curiosity. He'd have gone to look anyway, but now he really wanted to know what had been lost which would be so dearly missed. The fact that Bellatrix was laughing, no matter how drily, only added more appeal.
When Sirius joined his cousin and saw what she had seen, he guessed immediately what had really happened there. He looked up at the tree, and back at the ground. Someone had been more foolish than usual, it seemed. Though he'd give them points for trying.
Sirius crouched down, bringing the tip of his wand closer. The light it emitted revealed a dark figure on a pale texture.
"Indeed, it must be a painful loss... Do you think you can tell whose it is?"
Bella nodded negatively. There was no particular mark she could see, nothing to point out a specific suspect over another potential Death Eater. The only thing it gave them was a tone.
"No, though I suspect it will be hard for them to hide this loss. If someone shows up in the future lacking a left arm, next to Marden Burke in a wheelchair, it's highly possible it will be our guy."
Sirius stared at the severed arm for a moment, a bit dumbfounded at the way it had ended up here. Most of the blood had already soaked the earth beneath it, and he had no doubts it was the result of someone trying to climb up the tree to get past the wall. As if said tree, having grown against the wall, would be exempted from the warding. If anything, it had been included in it.
"I guess I should call the aurors..."
"I... suppose..."
Acting by the law wasn't something either Black was too confortable with. Bellatrix, because she had always been on the other side, Sirius, because he had been on the run for so long. If Sirius listened to himself, he'd apparate to the Ministry, his wand levitating the severed limb at a safe distance, with a disgusted look on his face, and he would make his way to the Auror Office while saying someone had forgotten that "thing" on his doorstep.
Somehow, he doubted it would be socially acceptable behavior.
Not that he cared much, but still. He'd rather keep his sarcasm for something worse, if possible. He was pretty sure there was a quota he shouldn't exceed too often if he wanted to stay in the good graces of law enforcement officials.
Still, he wasn't sure he should call them right away.
Something was tugging at his mind – some kind of idea, perhaps? Something he was sure he could use later on. Something he was sure he would need later on.
Sirius looked up at Bellatrix, and squinted.
Her ghost wore the clothes she had been wearing at the time of her death, meaning, her Death Eater garb. One of the reasons she really wasn't presentable. Her long sleeves were hiding the spot, right now, so he wondered...
"Your own Dark Mark..."
The ghost interrupted him before he could say anything else.
"...disappeared the moment I died. Don't know why, but you can always check for yourself."
Bella bared her left arm, and indeed, there was no remnant of Voldemort's brand. It made sense, in a way, since it was more than a tattoo. The Dark Mark was a link, but the only link the ghost had to a living being right now was the Reciprocation Curse, with Sirius. One person could not have two masters, and the curse apparently surpassed the mark.
Bellatrix was dead, also.
But Sirius guessed the tattoo part of the Dark Mark could have been left behind, because reasons. It wasn't the case, but it could have been...
Meaning, he had only one unlinked Dark Mark he could examine, and he wouldn't be able to as soon as the aurors would get here. And while he wasn't certain why it seemed so important for him to take a look at the damned thing, it did seem to matter.
He just had a feeling he'd need it at some point. The why would come later, he was sure of it.
...And even if the why never came, at least he would never wonder if he had made a mistake not investigating the mark.
"Ah, screw it!"
Bella started at the exclamation, and watched with frowned eyebrows as Sirius just sat down on the ground next to the severed arm.
She might have been a psycho, but she wasn't one anymore... or, not that much, at least. And it bothered her a bit how Sirius simply dismissed the fact that he was sitting on possibly-blood-soaked ground without a care in the world. Just a bit, because she had always known he was a bit different, that even before all which had happened – even as a child – Sirius hadn't been completely there.
She was used to it.
It didn't mean it never worried her, that Sirius was naturally a worse psychopath than she had ever become, and that despite everything, he managed to live as a normal person. When she thought about it sometimes, she wondered how he could not let it consume him completely.
Other times, she understood why he had been sent to Gryffindor instead of Slytherin.
Which didn't explain why he was squinting at the severed limb of an unnamed Death Eater. She hovered closer to him, and tried to see what he was doing exactly, but he had noxed his wand. The only light they had now, under the trees, was the one which came from her.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't answer, but started poking at the useless Dark Mark on the dead arm.
"Sirius?"
"Don't move, you're our only light source, and I need to experiment. Meaning, I need my wand free of lighting spells. Now, shush, I'm focusing on a disgusting drawing."
Bella didn't know what to say to that. She really had no idea what to say to that. Since when did people experiment on severed limbs they found in their backyards? Since when?
Had the arm still been attached to a live Death Eater, she'd have smacked her cousin on the head and told him off for playing with something that could potentially draw Voldemort to them – or rather, she'd have tried to smack him on the head, failed because she was immaterial, then she'd have just kept passing through him until he got a cold, and would have told him off nonetheless.
Had this not been Sirius, she'd have been livid and told whoever it would have been to stop with the morbid act and get their shit together, because you didn't play with dead bodies. Unless your name was Duncan Selwyn, but Selwyn was a creep, even by Death Eater standards.
Granted, Bellatrix had been a psycho, even by Death Eater standards, but still.
The facts were, it was Sirius doing the poking, and it wasn't a linked Dark Mark anymore. Bella had a feeling she ought to say something to stop him from experimenting on the severed arm, but she didn't really know what to say.
Don't poke at the dead thing? Sirius'd give her a look and would go back to whatever he was doing.
Sirius, that's sick? The guy knew very well he had a screw or two loose.
Can we go home, please? – sounded a bit childish. It'd only get her a sarcastic comment.
So in the end, the ghost waited for about fifteen minutes, as Sirius ran all sorts of tests over the dead limb. He muttered the spells quietly, and watched the results without a word, maybe only a snort here and there, accompanied by a disdainful "Obviously, because it couldn't get worse" from time to time.
Eventually, Sirius got up on his feet, and stretched widely. Then he used the Order's mirrors to contact an auror acquaintance of his, who should come to see a wall about an arm, with the exact coordinates, and something that said he was going back to sleep, because seriously, he had to bring Harry to King's Cross at eleven. Then he stopped the call before Kingsley could answer back.
Sirius left a magical marker where the arm was, lit the tip of his wand again, and walked back to the hidden door. One moment later, he had apparated to Black Manor, and let himself fall right on his bed. He could still get three or four more hours of sleep before it was time to get up...
He woke up at eight, his brain buzzing with the data he had gained on the Dark Mark, and which he was quite certain not even Dumbledore had – since experimenting on Snape was dangerous as the guy was still alive, the link still active.
An owl from Kingsley was waiting for him. The letter said something about whether or not he had emptied his stash of firewhiskey before mirror-calling him that way, because no one should be so cheerlful about Death Eaters trying to get into their home and leaving an arm behind, especially not at three in the morning. The letter also said they were taking care of it, and would ask kindly if someone had misplaced an arm lately. Apparently Sirius was doing a good job weakening the enemy forces just by being there.
Maybe they should simply use him as a scarecrow.
Sirius and Harry ate a good, nutritious breakfast, courtesy of Sterhn, and before they knew it, it was time to go.
Neither of them really knew if they were happy for the beginning of the year – Harry because he'd see his friends again, Sirius because Harry would see others kids – or sad that they would be separated. Overall, Sirius guessed it was the normal reaction when a teen left for Hogwarts, again.
Not that he'd know.
Because it was the safest way to go, Sirius apparated them both in a dark street of London, not far from the station. Had it been a more peaceful time, he would have considered flooing to Grimmauld, and then taking a cab to King's Cross. Things were, he didn't want to risk it.
They finally passed through the barrier and got onto platform 9¾. The Weasleys weren't there yet, but apparently it was common occurrence for them to arrive at the last minute. Sirius wasn't exactly surprised, with all the kids they had, it had to be a mess every year. Though this time, there would only be two, Ron and Ginny...
Harry spotted Hermione, and went to see her. Sirius decided to be an exemplary guardian, and followed suit. It wasn't as if the Grangers had that many friends to talk to, as they were muggles. Maybe a few other muggles parents that they had recognized over the years, getting their magical kids on the train too...
At some point Sirius noticed a fuming Malfoy standing by his worried mother, and glaring daggers at Harry. It almost got the older wizard to roll his eyes. Obviously the pampered pureblood prince would blame his father's misfortune on the Boy Who Hadn't Asked To Be A Murder Target.
He excused himself from the Grangers' side, and moved to his blond cousin.
Harry watched him go to the Malfoys with concern, but Sirius grinned at him on the way. The teenager didn't like it, but he guessed he should just trust his godfather not to be murdered on the station platform, the first day of the school year. There wasn't too much danger of that happening...
Right?
Narcissa Malfoy tensed as soon as she spotted the tall wizard coming in her direction. The crowd was dense, and tall men with dark hair weren't that rare, but she just knew it was Sirius. She had caught a glimpse of him between two families, a few minutes before.
She wasn't sure why he'd come to see her, but she could tell it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation.
They weren't on the same side, cousins or not.
Mrs Zabini frowned a bit at her expression.
"Is something wrong, Narcissa?"
The blond witch forced a smile on her face which told everything she kept to herself.
"Absolutely not, Elise."
The black witch slowly turned around, searching for the disturbance in her perfectly pureblooded world this fine morning. Elise Zabini had managed to keep a distance from the various muggleborns and their parents so far, and she wasn't keen to see her efforts reduced to nothing. And what else than a muggle, or an aggressive Ministry employee, to make Narcissa Malfoy tense like that?
What the gorgeous black woman saw when she finally set her eyes on the face which had made her friend edgy was neither of these two kinds of people. In fact, it was a wizard she recognized right away. A perfectly pureblooded man, with a perfect face, and, from what she knew, perfect skills. Hadn't he been an egalitarian, she'd have already tried to seduce him. An eigth husband wouldn't be a bad thing, and she might even try and keep this one alive...
But the Lord of the House of Black wasn't a tame stallion. Even if Elise somehow managed to trick him into loving her, it would be as likely that she'd be the one to end up dead if she ever tried to become a widow again, as the contrary to happen. Elise Zabini was an intelligent woman; there were some men no one should try to trick.
The young lord smiled at the two women and their sons, but his smile lacked the warmth he gave to other people. He certainly knew that, and wasn't doing a damn thing to change it.
"Narcissa, pleasure to see you so healthy. I don't believe you've ever presented your son to me."
It wasn't a complete lie. Sirius was happy to see his cousin, because he actually liked Narcissa, even if he didn't agree with her about absolutely everything, and she sometimes managed to irk him to no end. He wasn't happy to see her in these circumstances, though. If only she could get past the brainwashing...
But that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.
"Sirius... What do you want?"
Narcissa didn't pick up on the statement that Draco had never been formally presented to his cousin. They both knew why it hadn't happened. And she was quite certain Sirius knew enough about her son from his detestable godson and his friends. No doubt they always painted themselves in the best of lights, and Draco as a hateful boy.
She saw no reason to have her boy suffer from the lions' idiocy more than necessary.
Sirius' eyes fell coldly on Draco.
Narcissa's grip on her son's shoulders hardened, but Draco didn't move. He knew when to bitch about things and when not to. No matter what his parents may have said about his mother's wayward cousin, he could feel for himself that the man wasn't to be played with.
Besides, Draco still hadn't figured out why his mother had gone to the man's trial as a family member. Sure, she was a family member, but wasn't she supposed not to care about the blood traitor? If his father had been free, she'd never have gone...
Sirius smiled thinly at the teen. He had decided to give the kid a chance, but it didn't mean he would treat the brat like a prince. Whatever Draco Malfoy had done, he would need to face alone.
And for now, even if Sirius was aware he only had Harry's side of the story, the only thing he could see in the brat's face was a pathetic belief of superiority. If Malfoy Jr wasn't a bully at school, he sure wasn't far off the mark.
A selfish sixteen-yeard-old pureblood who thought the world revolved around him. Sirius had dealt with these enough times in his youth. Regulus had been a bit like that, too, though more reserved.
Sirius looked back at his cousin.
"I only wanted to speak with your charming son, dear cousin. To tell him he shouldn't put the blame on someone else's shoulders, unless he wants to appear as a brat. To remind him that whatever happened to his father, happened because of his choice. Whenever you take a decision, you accept the possible consequences. If you try to kill a teenager, you are no more than a murderer. If you get caught, you go to jail. After all, if I tried to murder Draco right here, just because it suits me, wouldn't you want me to go back to Azkaban right away?"
Narcissa was livid.
Her cousin was talking to her, but there was no mistaking to whom this speech was destined. To Draco, before anyone else. She was only a second receiver, thought the threat was clear to her too.
Not that she believed Sirius would ever go after a child, unless the said child was doing something Unforgivable. Draco wouldn't be targetted because of his father. But if her, Narcissa Malfoy née Black, tried anything...
There would be no forgiveness.
Sirius looked back at the blond teenager who looked so much like his father. Irony, really, considering who Malfoy Jr hated more than even muggles.
"Now, Draco, before you try and attack my godson because you can't deal with the fact that your father is in jail for something he actually did, remember this: your father, at least, is alive. Your mother too, as it is. Destiny has a way to bite brats back, and we wouldn't want you to lose your parents, just for you and Harry to be on equal grounds, would we?"
Not that Sirius intended to murder his cousin and her husband if the brat continued to be a brat. But he couldn't really sit Draco down and tell him it wasn't kind to mock an orphan and then blame them because your father landed himself in Azkaban.
If he did that, he doubted the kid would even listen to him until he finished his first sentence.
And maybe, maybe, Sirius didn't want to try and be kind and understanding more than absolutely needed. He was done playing nice. He had been done for a long time.
Before Draco could try and say anything, Narcissa moved in front of her son, as if to protect him from her psychopath of a cousin.
The witch didn't really know where she stood about Sirius, true. She wanted them to be a family again, she wanted this stupid war to end – after all, it hadn't been so bad before, when the muggleborns had been accepted, but not really... She wanted it to stop, the bloodshed, the revenge, the hatred. She wanted to be able to be disdainful to the less-than-pureblooded witches and wizards, but she didn't actually want them all to die a horrible death. If they could just keep to themselves...
She was almost tempted to tell Sirius that as far as the means went, she was on his side. She may agree with the Dark Lord about most things, but she was tired of what it had cost to her husband. To her family.
But there was one thing she wouldn't accept, and it was someone threatening her son. Even if she suspected that Sirius didn't mean half of what he said. There was a line, which he had just crossed.
So, she stood between her son and her cousin.
And she said words she didn't really think, just like he had.
Though, in the end, she thought them true up to some point.
"Someone who abandonned his family because he couldn't handle differences has no right to speak to me about loyalty, Sirius. The Blacks before anything else, remember?"
Narcissa knew it was a bit hypocritical coming from her, since she hadn't talked once to her own sister because of whom Andromeda had married, but she also knew it would hurt Sirius.
No matter how much Sirius hated his family, he loved them too. And even if he never showed it, she knew. She knew her cousin better than most people did. When they had been children, it was to her that he spoke of family. Sirius talked to Andromeda about what he hated in the family, he didn't say a thing to Bellatrix who was already sliding into insanity, he kept quiet around Regulus because a big brother is there to protect, not to project; but he told Narcissa about those he cared for.
The set of Sirius' jaw became harder, the glint of his eyes fell into freezing, and he took a step towards her. He wasn't looking at her, but behind, as if at some scene he remembered.
When he spoke, it was but a cold whisper.
"You have no idea why I left, Narcissa."
There was a time of silence, during which the witch couldn't bring herself to move an inch.
"I don't suppose you ever found yourself looking at your sleeping parents, wondering if it wouldn't be easier to just end it all? To kill them, and not to have to quarrel ever again? I don't think you ever looked at a knife and wondered if it would be enough to bleed the life out of their throat, in the dead of the night."
He took a step back, and looked her from head to toes. Narcissa was trembling a bit. Fear or shock, he didn't know. Right now, he didn't care.
Sirius twisted a smile at her.
"Lucky you, Narcissa. You never had to chose which way to lose your parents, because you still had a way to keep them. I didn't have that luxury."
And he walked away, back to Harry, back to the Grangers, back to the Longbottoms who had arrived during his conversation with his cousins, back to the Weasleys whom he could see coming this way. Back to the people who didn't need to know about the dead end he had found himself in, years ago. Back to the people who didn't tear his heart apart simply by existing.
Draco, in a bout of rare worry, reached for his mother's hand, and felt the shiver that had crept upon her. He didn't know what had been told, but he could say Black's return was upsetting his mother. He just wasn't sure in which way.
Elise and Blaise Zabini had watched with guarded interest, and before someone could comment on it, they were acting as if nothing had happened. They knew that Narcissa Malfoy would never open up about what had just happened. A shame. The Black drama was a true greek tragedy.
But only a few feet behind the Malfoys and the Zabinis, another person had followed the exchange in silence. Someone who had more right to listening in than anyone could suspect.
Someone would would have liked to know why Sirius Black had bailed out on his family at sixteen. Who certainly wouldn't have liked the reason – because who could like this particular explanation, really? – but who needed a reason, much more than Narcissa herself needed it.
"Dad, you're supposed to help me get that trunk on the train."
The wizard turned around to look at his eleven-years-old son, whose trunk was, as always, too heavy for a kid his age. Alshain had his crimson hair tucked behind his ears, and his silver eyes were staring at his father with insistence.
It was the first time Cadfael brought his son to the magical world without altering the boy's looks, he realized. It would also, probably, be the last time he brought Alshain anywhere.
They had talked about it, with Amanda. His wife hadn't exactly been thrilled, but she had been understanding. As always. If there was one thing that could be said about the ex-military woman, it was that she was surprisingly understanding.
A bit like Sirius had been, only, gentler. Amanda didn't hide it, unlike Sirius.
Maybe it was the true reason why Cadfael had fallen in love with the muggle woman whom he had ended up marrying. Unlike the people he had known so far, and even while he wasn't conscious of it, Amanda White wasn't hiding behind a wall.
Cadfael helped his son to get on the Hogwarts Express. There wasn't much time left before the last families arrived, before the station was effectively flooded. He made Alshain promise to write at least once a week, because his mother would want to know how a magical school was. Then he kissed his son on the forehead, and knelt to look at him eye to eye.
"Be kind to the others children, but only if they return the favor, alright?"
The boy nodded absent-mindedly, having heard that a few hundreds of time over the last month. He was waiting for his father to leave, because there really wasn't much else to say, but to his surprise he saw him search his pockets for a letter.
Cadfael looked at the envelope one last time, wondering if he was really doing the right thing. His mind told him it was an enormous error, but somehow he had the gut feeling it would all turn for the better. Last time he had followed a gut feeling, it hadn't ended well...
And for some reason, he was still doing it.
It was only fair, he supposed. If anything, he deserved what was about to come.
Cadfael looked back at his son, a sad look on his face.
"Listen, you know how we kept your mother's family name? It's not your actual name, nor it is mine, but at the time... We didn't really have a choice."
Alshain nodded. He had a feeling this first of September would be a bigger day than it was even supposed to be as his first day at Hogwarts. Something was about to change... He just wasn't sure if it would be for the better or for the worse. It was important, though.
His father handed him the letter, but kept him from opening it right away.
"I've written both our names inside. Open it only once the night has come, would you? And don't show it to anyone until the Sorting Ceremony. It will be complicated enough after that, I don't want you to have more problems than necessary."
The mention of possible "problems" wasn't exactly comforting, but Alshain trusted his father enough to do as he said.
Cadfael White left shortly after that. The wizard got down the train, left King's Cross, and apparated away. At his new location, he looked up and didn't move for a while. He only had one more person to see before it all fell down.
His thoughts wandered back to his family, to Alshain and Amanda. He didn't even know if he'd see them ever again. Once more, he reminded himself that he deserved whatever would come his way.
When the night fell, Alshain opened the letter. He found the truth a bit ironic, all things considered, but he liked the sound of it. He couldn't really pretend to be surprised that his father had thought it'd be problematic, now that he knew.
He looked around at the other teens in the compartment, and stopped his gaze upon the fourth year Ravenclaw, Cleopatra Rosier. They were in a similar situation, he supposed... halfblooded members of a prestigious House.
Alshain was astonished by the sight of the Castle, and a bit nervous when he saw the hundreds of other students already sitting in the Great Hall. Hogwarts truly was a wondrous place.
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, rose from her seat. She had a list of students to Sort.
Four names, four children were Sorted. One in Hufflepuff, two in Ravenclaw, one in Gryffindor.
Then her eyes fell onto the fifth name, and the transfiguration professor felt her breath lacking. Her eyes wandered to the unsorted first years, and caught a silver gaze.
When she had sent the admission letters, the name had been White... She was certain of that. Why had it changed so suddenly? Why had the boy thought his name was White, up until now?
She took a deep breath, under the questioning glances of her colleagues and older students.
"Black, Alshain."