A/N: OH MY GOD I FINALLY FOUND MY FREAKING PASSWORD apologies to all of my readers here! I'm going to try to speedrun publishingALL of the chapters available over on AO3 (for those curious, I'm at chapter 33 now, I believe). Reading back on my older chapters so I can post them on here is kind of killing me. It's crazy how much I've improved and yet still have so much more room for improvement. Anyway, thanks for reading! (PS I'm trying to do this via my phone so my formatting is total trash TT)

"…You know, I'm feeling very under-appreciated right now."

The compartment was silent. Hermione glared at me through the corner of her doe eyes. Harry briefly glanced at me before looking out the window. Ron ignored me entirely.

I fidgeted in my seat, "C'mon, guys. There's no reason to be angry when you think about it…"

"You knew. For however long, you knew a grown man was sleeping in my bed. Not just any grown man, but the man who apparently was the one who actually sold out Harry's parents. Harry had to find out one of his parents' best friends not only killed his family, but framed his parents' other best friend for the murder of twelve muggles from McGonagall of all people. Why was that? Because you transformed my bloody rat on the bloody Slytherin table for the entirety of bloody Hogwarts to see!"

I flinched at Ron's harsh words. My throat tightened and I dug my nails into my palms.

"I—"

"No," he said, turning red with rage, "I'm not done. You've been lying and keeping secrets from us all year, and when you finally say that you've told us everything— oh wow, another bloody surprise!"

"I was just—"

"Just what, Aurelia? There were a thousand other ways to reveal Pettigrew and you chose the most… the most…"

"Ostentatious," supplied Hermione.

"What she said! You had to make a big show of it when you should have told us as soon as you knew! We could've gone to Dumbledore together. Honestly, do you even consider us your friends?"

It was taking a lot out of me not to cry. I suddenly wished I'd reminded Percy to give me back Clawdius before the train departed. The look on Ron's face was… I'd never seen him look at anyone other than Draco Malfoy that way. The way he was looking at me.

"Give it a rest, Ron," Harry finally made eye-contact with me. "You're not wrong, but you shouldn't yell at her."

I tried to smile at my bespectacled friend, "Harry! You see the big picture, don't you? When Sirius Black is proven innocent at his trial, you could live with him! He's your godfather, didn't you know? You could leave the Dursleys' forever!"

His jade eyes widened. McGonagall had neglected to mention that bit amidst the chaos and auror-summoning. Honestly, it was a miracle we were let on the train. The aurors had just really wanted everyone out of the castle. The reason I specifically wasn't detained immediately for questioning was because Snape personally told each wizard cop to fuck off.

I reached over and grabbed his hands in mine, "See, Harry? Everything I've done has all been to keep you guys safe and happy. I know I can be… distant and dramatic sometimes, but I care deeply about all of you. Don't you believe me?"

I honestly didn't have much left in this life, and my desperation to cling to what was mine ran high. I couldn't lose them. I couldn't—

Harry sighed before sending me a weak smile, "We know you care, Aurelia. But… I can't describe it… When you're with us, sometimes it feels as though…"

"It feels like when Mum tells one of my brothers to watch after me."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "Yes, it's almost as if we're small children under supervision. You're there, but you're more of a guard than anything else. We care about you too, Aurelia. We know you've only hidden things to protect us, but we're supposed to be best friends. We're supposed to take on the world together."

Ron grumbled before briefly throwing his arm around my shoulder. Our preferred method of showing affection.

"Hermione's right. Next time you're plotting something, we want in. It's not fair that we're always kept in the dark."

I leaned into Ron's side-hug and nodded.

"I'm sorry. Of course," I lied, like I do.

Obviously, there was no fucking way I was getting them involved with horcruxes. I'd just have to do better about hiding my bullshit.

"…It was kind of wicked, though…"

"Ronald Weasley!"

"What?" He replied, "It wasn't funny when it happened, but you've gotta admit, Hermione: she's got style."

Hermione groaned and Harry bit into his chocolate frog before his eyes lit up.

"Wait! I forgot to show you what Hagrid gave me!"

He reached into his bag and pulled out a large photo album. My heart soared at the sight. So he'd gotten it after all. I'd have to do something nice for Hagrid in the fall.

You know, other than saving his house.

Harry's eyes were brighter than I'd ever seen him. He looked as though he'd won twelve consecutive Quidditch matches.

He came across James and Lily's wedding photo and spotted a handsome dark-haired man next to his parents.

"That's Sirius Black," I pointed, "James Potter's best friend and your godfather. Once his innocence is proven, you can live with him."

Tracing over the photograph, Harry nervously bit his lip. Hermione sent me a scathing look before she kicked my shin.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"He's spent ten years in Azkaban, Aurelia."

"Yes, he did his waiting, we know."

The reference that would now never be was lost.

"He… he might not… want me."

I whipped my head around, "Nonsense, Harry! Sirius—"

"You talk as if you know him," said Ron.

"I don't," well, not personally, at least, "But… I just… I don't know how to explain it, but I know he loves you. More than anyone. Had he known Pettigrew was alive, he would have been the first man to break out of Azkaban to avenge your parents and keep you safe."

Sirius was… a complicated character and it would be a lie to say he didn't have… glaring flaws. Sirius might have been one of my favorite characters (and first fictional crush), and I might not have been Snape's biggest fan, but I could safely say using his best friend to try and kill him was a certified Dick Move. But I knew he'd walk through hell naked and backwards for his godson. He might have been a major prick at times, but I'd rather Harry with him than Petunia and Vernon any day.

Hermione kicked me again, "You cannot go and get his hopes up like that. And honestly, nobody has ever broken out of Azkaban. I highly doubt a man who was falsely imprisoned for ten years could do it."

GOD THIS CONVERSATION IS PHYSICALLY PAINING ME.

"What's Azkaban?" Asked Harry.

"British wizard prison," I said before going into little details, like dementors that suck out your soul and give you chronic depression.

Harry's eyes widened in horror, "That sounds terrible."

"You should see American wizard prison. Sirius got real lucky with his nationality. Back home, they just throw you in a vat of acid."

"What?!"

Apparently, I was the only one who knew that.

"So yeah, I'm going to get subpoenaed at some point. Might get an Order of Merlin afterward. Who knows."

Elsinore rubbed her temples before quietly counting to five.

"Do we even want to know how you knew about Pettigrew being the Weasley pet rat?"

I shrugged, "You'll find out in court. Or you can just read the Daily Prophet and see what their guesses are. Skeeter's convinced I'm either a seer or some serious type of wunderkind."

I was going to have to do a lot of research on Wizengamont trials and see if they had some magical polygraph because I knew I was going to have to commit a metric fuck ton of perjury.

"So what houses were you both in?" I asked, changing the subject. "I presume Slytherin based on the décor."

The mood instantly lightened and my grandparents finally relaxed for the first time since picking me up.

Marius gave me a smile that told me he knew something I didn't. Elsinore laughed as well and told me she was indeed in Slytherin.

Marius' reaction confused me, to say the least. "Did you go to Durmstrang or something? Or were you just in like, Hufflepuff or something?"

"I didn't go to school," he replied.

I raised an eyebrow, "You just… didn't go? Why?"

"I simply could not."

"Were you like, really sick as a kid?"

"No sicker than anyone else in the family," he said, completely straight-faced.

Elsinore gently patted her husband's arm, "He's a squib, dear."

I went silent out of confusion, my brain desperately trying to figure out the mental equation they had given me.

"So… the head of the Prince family was born a squib? And you still got to become said Head? Wow, Britain's a lot more progressive than I thought."

She laughed, "Dear… I'm the head of the Prince family. He married in. Although being the "head" of a wizarding family doesn't truly mean anything. All it really means is that I inherited Prince Manor. And It's not as if I'm a Lord or anything. We haven't had those since the founders were alive."

"Wait, so which family are you from then?"

Please don't say Malfoy or something. There were only so many Assholes I could stand to be related to, and Lucius was not one of them.

"I'm a scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," he said mockingly.

"¡¿Perdón?!" I exclaimed. Of all people to be closely related to, Sirius and the Black Sisters somehow did not cross my mind.

Marius suddenly looked very uncomfortable, "Yes, it is rather unfortunate."

I… had so many questions.

"How did you both meet? I thought the Blacks all had grey eyes? How are you still alive after being born a squib to the Black family? Wait, how are you so spry for being at least eighty if you're a squib?"

Marius blinked at my rapid-fire unintentional interrogation and looked over to his wife for help. She rubbed his back and poured him some more tea.

"It would be impossible even with magic for an entire family to be born with the same colored eyes— even with all the interbreeding. His mother was Violetta Bulstrode and he has her eyes. He's alive because she begged to keep him until he turned seventeen, when they would throw him out. Squibs live longer than muggles, but not as long as wizards. Marius is in his seventies, actually. And he's got about forty years left on him if he takes care of himself," answered Elsinore patiently.

I took in her answers and noted she left out one. I looked at her, prompting.

But it was dear old Grandad who answered, "We met when I was working at a bookshop in Diagon Alley. I was barely seventeen at the time, my parents having just thrown me out. It was hard to get a job in the wizarding world, even one that paid as little as it did. Elsie came in one day— she was about nineteen— and when she caught a look of me she marched on over. I remember being rather frightened. I'd never seen anyone look at me so determined. I thought she somehow knew I was a squib and was going to kill me right in the middle of the shop."

Elsinore sent him a softer version of her signature glare, "I was trying to channel confidence."

He smiled lovingly at her. That was one of the things I really liked about Marius. He didn't show much outward expression when he didn't have to, unless it came to his wife. I'd never seen him look at her in any other way than as if she was the reason the stars existed.

"So there I was, wondering if squibs got to become ghosts, and then she says the most bizarre thing I'd ever heard anyone say to me."

I leaned forward, "What did she say?"

He took her hand and kissed it reverently.

Grandma gazed back at him tenderly, "I told him that my name was Elsinore Prince, and one day we were going to be married."

"What happened next?"

The Prince matriarch glared again, "He told me he didn't get paid enough for this, then walked into the back room of the shop."

Marius rolled his eyes, "You got me eventually."

She smirked triumphantly, "That I most certainly did."

The whole thing was tooth-rottingly sweet, but something pressed at my mind.

"If you're the head of the Prince family and you married a squib… why is the Prince name respected? Not to mention that Eileen married a muggle. I don't get it."

"Squibs are… greatly disliked, to put it mildly, yes. And I did receive a lot of… rather unpleasant comments, but he's still a born Black. His blood is still 'pure' in the eyes of bigots. Marrying Marius was certainly frowned upon, but with his blood and my father being a greatly respected man, people soon learnt to keep their tongues held. Our family background certainly helped. You come from a long line of accomplished duelists and potioneers, you know. There was also... Severus' extracurriculars, but I'd rather not get into those."

"You're leaving out the part where you magically castrated Cantankerous Nott for spitting at me," he said bemusedly.

"Darling, what ever are you talking about? You know that the aurors could never prove for certain that was me," she winked at me.

"And I suppose my dear niece Walburga just happened to grow scales all on her own when she blasted me from the Black family tapestry?"

"That was a rather strange fashion decision she made, yes."

I laughed and briefly thought about how closely Snape and Sirius were related, but I refused to give up on learning more about Eileen. I'd noticed any time I brought her up they just seemed to gloss over and deflect.

"And Eileen? You haven't told me a single thing about her."

Grandpa stiffened and Elsinore sent me a pleading look, "Aurelia…"

"Is she even alive?"

My great-grandfather pulled his distraught wife into his arms.

"No. She's been gone for nearly thirteen years now. You do have a right to know, but you must also consider that you're inquiring after our deceased daughter. Speaking about her is… painful."

I suddenly felt very ashamed. Eileen Prince's lack of background had always bothered me immensely. I'd forgotten that she was a real person who left an impact on those who knew her.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled for the second time today.

He and Elsinore pulled me into the hug and kissed the top of the ebony locks I'd inherited from Marius.

"We'll tell you about her another time," they promised.

My room at the Prince Manor was nothing like my room at Spinner's End or even California. It was similar to the dorm rooms at Hogwarts in that it was very green and had a desk and a canopy bed, but other than that it was a lot more… grandiose. But like, in a classy way.

Feeling the light of the sun shining through the stained glass lunette windows was a rather pleasant way to wake up. I made my way over to the hand-carved vanity and wished my fuzzy son could have been here with me. But I would be too busy for my poor baby and so he was spending most of the summer with the Weasleys. I was to retrieve him at the beginning of August, when everything for sure would be done.

I sighed and began to french-braid my hair as I thought more about my summer plans. My morning suddenly became a lot less pleasant.

I'd been at Prince Manor for over a week now, and a few days prior the ministry had sent notice that I wasn't to leave the country until the trial was completed. The thing was, because of how the courts had essentially spit in the face of due process during Sirius' original imprisonment, things had gotten rather complicated. Sirius was no longer in Azkaban at the moment, as he needed to be of as sound mind as possible, but neither was Pettigrew. Señor Malinche over here was placed under maximum security and non-stop surveillance. So much bureaucratic bullshit and variables were in play here. It meant I didn't know when I would get subpoenaed, just that I would.

Snape hadn't written to me yet. He'd simply send a concise letter to Grandma and Grandpa telling them to not let me leave the manor at all, as there were many people trying to get me to make a public statement.

"Tipsy," I said quietly.

With a pop, the Prince house-elf had appeared.

"Yes, Miss 'Relia?" Tipsy curtsied and smiled brightly at me. She was pleased to see a child in the manor once more.

Every red American blood cell in me screamed in protest at the existence of house-elves and yeah, fuck Joanne Rowling big time for creating what appeared to be the magical equivalent of Song of the South, but that's just how things were in this universe. I hated it, like, really hated it, but what the hell could I do? They were literally designed to be happy to serve and wither and die when dismissed from service. Dobby, for some reason, was an outlier.

"Could I have some tea before breakfast, please? The hibiscus one on ice, if that would be alright."

"Yes, of course, Miss 'Relia!" She chirped.

I briefly wondered if this scenario counted as lampshading.

Tipsy returned as soon as she left with a tall glass full of Agua de Jamaica for me.

"Will yous be needing anything else, Miss 'Relia?"

"No. Thank you, though. Let me know if you need help with anything."

"Nonsense, Miss 'Relia!" She scoffed. "I'll be letting yous know when the Mistress wants you in the dining room."

She popped back out.

I took a sip of the sweet red tea and ignored the wet, hot tears that started rolling down my face.

Sometime in July, was all the ministry had said to me.

My behavior had been… well, not great, but good enough for Snape to grant me permission to see my familia. Only for it all to go down the drain. I wouldn't be able to see them until Christmas. The grief from the anniversary of my mother's death that I'd been pushing down threatened to burst through. I wanted to be with my Abuelita and Tio and everyone else. I wanted to be around someone who understood my exact pain. I'd done this to myself, I suppose.

But instead of completely breaking, I kept drinking the hibiscus tea and did my best to block out my thoughts.

"This is for Harry," I mumbled to myself.

I had to do this all for Harry. I had to be there at Sirius' trial. Multiple lives were at stake. Nobody could afford for me to be selfish.

I would have to muscle through getting Sirius proven innocent, then make sure Lucius Malfoy slipped Riddle's diary in Ginny Weasley's cauldron. Then I would have to make sure nobody sees me take it out. I had too much to do, quite frankly.

I could deal with my own stuff later.

BONUS:

.

It was well past midnight and I admired how long the fire in the library had lasted.

I could not sleep to save my life. My brain was finally processing the fact that Marius was born a Black and my head is fucking spinning. I was attempting to make myself a coherent family tree and to say it was painful was putting it likely.

Harry was technically my great-nephew through marriage. Through blood, Regulus and Sirius were my second-cousins (my character-crush on the latter died instantly), Tonks and Draco were my third cousins, and Ron— and by extension, all of his siblings— were my—

AGHHH THIS ALL HURTS MY HEAD!

I felt a hand cover my forehead as I leaned over to bang my skull against the cocktail table.

"Careful, now. That's solid mahogany," said Marius softly.

"Thanks, Effie Trinket."

Marius, growing used to my random references that wouldn't make sense for at least a decade, merely sat down beside me on the floor. He looked over and saw my attempt at a family tree.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm trying to figure out who all I'm related to."

The corner of his lips twitched upwards, "You're a Black through me, sweet girl. Everyone's family. If you're ever to marry, I'd suggest looking outside of magical Britain."

I groaned loudly. "Figures."