Song of the Day: Cupid by Fifty Fifty
So I was randomly scrolling through the fan-fiction feed for SiriusxOC stories and happened to stumble upon a French fanfic in which the main character has a similar name to Eliza's. Since that fanfic predates this one, I wanted to make the disclaimer that I have never read the story and any similarities is purely incidental.
I've made the decisions to continue the story until the Christmas of Order of the Phoenix just because I love suffering and the dichotomy of Sirius being Free vs Sirius being Stuck in Grimmauld Place is something I would love to explore as it's not fully in the books (the reason why I skimmed PoA is because it would be a re-hash for the most part)
I've gone back in the chapters and finally fixed some sentences. Nothing has changed story wise, don't worry. I'm just someone who works chapter by chapter.
Once he left the British Isles, he felt free. It was exhilarating to fly on a hippogriff, the wind biting his cheeks depending on the time of the day. In total, their flight to the Shafiq manor took a day. All of his problems felt like mere specks of dust in time.
The Shafiq manor in Alexandria stood still and dead as they landed. It was made out of sandstone and the walls were carved with images and stories as old as civilisation itself. Sirius took far too long to get into the house. The two sphinxes that flanked the pathway, which came to life the moment he and Buckbeak stepped close, asked questions he nearly did not know how to answer.
Nearly. He was lucky he remembered the translation of the sentence the sphinx asked him. When he walked inside, he could tell that no one lived there. He let go of Buckbeak and the creature ran around freely.
"You did an amazing job," Sirius patted Buckbeak on his neck. "You wonderful thing."
He wasn't sure if Buckbeak was allowed into the house, but surely Eliza wouldn't mind it, would she?
Sirius felt like he was given far too much hope in such a short time. He spent months plotting revenge, not even seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but all it took was his godson fully believing him and his two close friends back on his side. Remus must have thought something was off this entire time too.
He searched through the house. Heavy layers of dust surrounded the area. When was the last time someone came here? Sirius was careful not to go into the bedrooms and kept himself in the main area. There, he found a piece of paper to send to Eliza. Just so he knew that she made it. He recognised the Shafiq family crest and their motto written in hieroglyphs – Be alive, Stay strong and healthy. He remembered it quite well.
But how would he send it?
The answer came in the form of a falcon. It lived in the backyard and upon seeing the letter, it stuck out its claw and shot off.
They'd need to look for food soon. Sirius could perhaps steal things from the market nearby. There were a lot of stray dogs in the neighbourhood, so people wouldn't notice him. He was surprised how near the mansion was to muggle civilisation, but this house stood longer than anything else in the area. Maybe no one ever questioned its presence. Or maybe no one knew it was there.
He thought the latter.
Sirius had a hard time sleeping. He spent the last year sleeping on rocks or curled up as an animagus, so the idea of falling into a bed was like heaven. He tried to stay in the Shrieking Shack, but getting in and out of the house was not an easier feat if you didn't have a wand.
He didn't pick a room. Instead, he took one of the long reed chairs that were in the backyard and slept on it instead.
He wondered how long it would take for Eliza to get here or if she would get here at all. The last time he had summoned her, she had completely ignored it.
He spent the next days scavenging for food. He turned himself into a dog and walked around, Some people chased him but many of them left him alone. There were other dogs as well, all sand-coloured, who eyed him sceptically but nevertheless told him where to get the best food. No one in the area looked like they were people from the Ministry of Magic or wizards, but Sirius didn't know anything about the wizarding community outside of where he was from. British wizards tended to be stuck in the 19th century with their fashion which was a shame because everyone was far more stylish than them at times.
Dumbledore's phoenix found him one day.
Dear Sirius,
I trust you have found your way to Egypt. Promptly awaiting the arrival of Eliza. She'll be with you soon, but you must be patient. I'll be keeping in touch – we have lots to talk about. But first, find attached this Hogwarts permission slip to Hogsmeade. I'm afraid that the Dursleys did not want to sign it for young Harry, but as his legal guardian, you may do so.
Stay vigilant.
Quickly, Sirius wrote a letter to Harry, signed a form and once more found a creature that would send the mail. This time, it came in the form of a small desert owl who eagerly wanted to take on the job.
Like clockwork on the night after the Hogwarts term ended, Eliza arrived. He was in the backyard tending to Buckbeak when he heard the loud crack at the front of the house.
She wore a scarf around her head to shield her head from the sun and she carried plastic bags. Sirius felt his heart pace quicken. He patted Buckbeak and walked down to meet her.
He opened his mouth to say something smart, something that may help them start.
But nothing came out.
"Hi," Eliza said. She took off her scarf as she kicked off her loafers. "You're wearing shoes in my house."
"Sorry," he forgot how stingy she was above people not wearing shoes in the house.
"Why are you still wearing those clothes?" she accused.
"Huh?" Sirius was annoyed. Why was she so… cut off?
"Shower and change out of those clothes," she threw a bag at him. "And bring me those clothes later."
He caught it and clutched it in his hands, watching her disappear to the back of the house. Sirius thought that they were more than that, so to hear her sounding so cold… made him wonder if she just wanted him out of there.
But that wouldn't explain how she acted the night he escaped. What if… what if there was someone else? Just because his life stood still for twelve years, doesn't mean that hers did. He wouldn't know what to do.
Once, James asked him what he saw in Eliza. There was nothing special about her, but it was then that Sirius realized that because she was a lot like the other girls, he liked her. She was not what he thought. Before they ever talked properly, he had constructed an idea of her. His brother's betrothed would be upstart and nosy like Narcissa Black in the arms of Lucius Malfoy, never daring to dream outside of that what was asked of her to do. But she talked with the other houses, studied with them, and picked someone up no matter the house they were in. Eliza held no contempt toward others unless they openly did her wrong, not even back when their relationship had been a secret and the girls of Hogwarts ran after him. It frustrated him sometimes, wondering if she cared. He often wondered if it was all a game to her. She was kind to him at first and had asked if he wanted something from the kitchen, but Sirius snapped at her saying that it was Kreacher who should do the fetching. It was from then on that she didn't talk to him unless needed, and if they did it was mostly in the defense of his brother.
It took him a while to realize that the Shafiq family, though one of the pureblooded families, worked differently than those of the British Isles. He noticed how Soraya Rosier, her mother, had taken ages before changing her last name, and Eliza never once made the effort to consider herself a Rosier. Whenever someone spoke of the statue of magic, the elders in her family would roll their eyes and clench their fists.
He didn't learn until the war that the statue of secrecy, unlike what the British Ministry of Magic kept telling everyone, was not something all countries agreed upon and it wasn't until two centuries ago that it was spread by force to the other countries.
Sirius showered. The water was cold. He watched as the grime and dirt disappeared from his body. He felt a lot better.
The clothes she had given him were his.
His eyes widened when he saw the Ziggy Stardust shirt and jeans he wore. They didn't fit completely, but she supplied a belt. She kept it. She didn't burn his things.
That gave him hope.
Eliza stood in the backyard, poking the fire with a stick. He could see the few streaks of silver that ran through her dark hair and the crinkles by her eyes that would crease when she smiled. She had grown a little taller as well, but perhaps that was because she no longer slouched. Eliza was holding something to her ear – a box with a stick attached to it – and seemed to be talking to someone before putting it back in her pocket.
She looked up.
He caught his breath. Gingerly, he moved forward. He held Azkaban's robes in his hands. They were dirty from months of use, perhaps even years - he could not remember when it was last changed. Perhaps when that recent prison photo was made for the benefit of the Prophet, he thought. The menace that killed his best friend. It must have made wonderful headlines. Fudge must have felt good.
"What do you want with these?" He asked.
"Throw it into the fire," she said it nonchalantly, like she would always burn clothes.
"Why?" He furrowed his brows.
"To leave the past behind," Eliza wrinkled her nose from the smoke.
"What will it do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not everything needs to have a magical meaning," she wrapped her arms around herself. The desert was surprisingly cold at night. After spending a lot of time playing Quidditch in Highland weather, Eliza did not get cold that easily. He knew that if she was holding herself that way, it was because she was making sure that she felt safe.
Sirius threw it into the fire.
The flames engulfed the pieces of fabric slowly and he watched as the red tongues of the flames turned white to black. It made him feel a lot lighter knowing that the thing that tied him to Azkaban besides the crime he committed did not exist.
They stood in silence. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. Where would they go from here?
"I did this the first year after you went to Azkaban," Eliza said in a quiet voice. If it hadn't been still, Sirius wouldn't have heard it. "I didn't go back to London, I also didn't want to see anyone. I was angry about everything and it consumed me. My father … he told me that it would destroy me if I stayed away longer than needed. So I came here to clean up the place and… I burnt the funeral clothes I wore. Afterwards, I wrote Remus. Then I visited Lily and James'. Spent the rest of the year picking myself together and moving forward."
"Eliza," Sirius exasperated and took a step forward. She didn't step back, but he felt like he was still stepping on thin ice. He had hurt her. He had hurt Remus. Those who knew him and weren't dead could no longer trust him. He hurt the trust they built in him. War did a lot to someone, darkness seeps into your mind even when it looks like something is going right because how could it be alright when everything could crash any second?
"You can't fix twelve years of pain," Eliza's eyes were glassy. "We can't just go back to what we were."
"I know," Sirius forced himself to say. He wanted to go back to the past. He wanted his best friends back.
Eliza slowly walked towards him. She put a hand on his face. It was warm to the touch and she wiped away the streak of tears that fell down his face. He couldn't help but flicker his eyes over her lips.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what to do, truthfully."
Sirius didn't know what to do either. They had time, nothing was hunting them that very second. They could live together in bliss until something bad came along.
"We have time. We can stay here."
"I'm not sure if it's that safe. Gringott's has people in Luxor and they are also snooping around looking for the grave of Cleopatra," she wrinkled her nose. "No doubt, once they realise that I am back in town they will come knocking."
"Well, is there anywhere in the world where I would be safe?"
"Le Cap," she answered. "Anywhere that has a different ministry of magic. Your arrest order is only valid in the UK and Ireland or Western Europe."
"Well then let's go there!"
"Absolutely not. Not yet."
Sirius frowned.
"Why not?"
"For one you look terrible," Eliza set a grill over the flames. "And I need to make sure you are healthy enough for travelling."
"But it's not a no," Sirius inquired.
She smiled. "It's not a no, but I won't be there all the time. I promised Remus I'd look for him."
"Well then bring him here," Sirius urged. "Let's all go on an adventure. Just the three of us."
"Some people need to work, Sirius."
"Then can you not work for once," He pleaded. He didn't want to be alone. And it was her work that often kept her away from him.
But he saw her crack a smile.
"I'm unemployed for the time being. But only for now," Eliza continued to put things on the grill. "I've got bills to pay, you know. I don't want to live off family money. Now do me a favour and cut some thing vegetables."
He did as she told him. They made dinner together, something that felt so … utterly foreign to him. She seemed to flinch a little when he held the knife a little too high. It felt abnormal to sit down at a table for dinner and drink sweet wine. She showed him where he could sleep – the other rooms were off-limits as their previous owners had charmed them so no one else would step foot in there in their death unless you knew how to. He felt lighter, perhaps even happier. But sleep did not come that easy. The mattress was hard and his pillow was far too soft for his taste. Now that he had time to think, now that he was not worried about his next step, all of his problems came crashing back. All the guilt. He couldn't forgive himself for it. Knowing that he was innocent kept him sane.
"Sirius?" Eliza rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. He had been a little bit too loud in the kitchen. He accidentally dropped the kettle trying to fill it up with water.
"I'm fine, go back to sleep," he felt embarrassed that he couldn't do the simple thing of making tea.
"Were you about to make yourself black tea? For sleep?" she pointed towards the tinned can he took. Sirius took it because it smelt like tea and there was a picture of a teacup on there. He didn't look at the script to see what kind of tea it was.
"What's plaguing you?" she urged him gently. Sirius looked down at his fingers. They were long and needed to be cut. There were a lot of things that he needed to do to feel like himself.
He shook his head. No, he didn't want to plague her with that thought right now.
"I'm not ready to talk about it."
"That's okay," she said softly. "If… if you want to, you can sleep in my room."
He nearly spat out his tea. "D-do you want me to?"
Real smooth, Black, he chided himself. You lost your touch.
"The choice is there, if you want."
He finished his tea and by the time he went to her room, she was busy reading a book that looked a lot like one of those sci-fi books that her cousins would send her, but it looked different.
"Is there new people on that show?" he asked.
"Yes," she looked at the cover. "It's literally called The Next Generation."
"Can you catch me up?" once more, something that should have felt normal to him was foreign. He pulled the blanket to the side and gingerly got in. "I saw you using that thingy before. It looks like a small phone."
"It is. They're portable now."
"Fascinating."
"Do you want me to read it to you?" she asked. "I'm sure Science will bore you to sleep a little bit."
He turned onto his side, facing Eliza who had her glasses perched on her nose.
"Please do."
He drifted off to sleep and for once, he did not dream of Peter Pettigrew taunting him for a crime he did not commit. Instead, he dreamt of spaceships and foreign lands in which he was free.