Since their first meeting Galatea and Sirius had many 'dates' set up for them in the hopes of them growing closer. Today they were shepherded away into Grimmauld Place's garden, round wrought iron table between them. Three hours of solitude, tea growing cold and finger foods becoming stale as they did their worst attempt at conversation.
After their time together the enchantments keeping them in the garden would be lifted and Galatea would be invited to stay for dinner. Another hour in each other's proximity after which Sirius would escape upstairs and slam his bedroom door. Rinse and repeat once every two weeks during the summer and maybe once during the holidays.
There had been an unsure moment when Sirius had gotten himself sorted into Gryffindor, if these meetings would continue or the Malfoys would back out of their arrangement. Galatea assures the adults she has no reason to break off such a beneficial engagement, partly because the worse the situation the better chances of success for her plans. But mostly because watching her father's face grow red with anger and being helpless to stop any of it was highly amusing.
So until they married or one of them dropped dead Galatea Malfoy and Sirius Black sat together in the garden spending their respective time differently. Galatea was on her fourth cup of tea while Sirius was resolutely letting his first cup o untouched, his head of messy black curls faced down on the table.
"Why don't you just break this thing off already?" The boy groans, unable to stay in his self imposed silence for longer than ten minutes.
Galatea hums before setting her porcelain cup down. "Whatever do you mean, Sirius?" She avoids coyly.
"Instead of here I can be with my friends and you could be doing whatever it is you do…do you even have any friends?"
His attempt to get under her skin pulls an amused huff from her, like a teething puppy nipping at fingers. Humoring the boy she leans forward, putting her chin on her upturned palm.
"More than you would think. But tell me about yours. The Potter's son, correct?" She probes recalling who her young fiancé ran through the halls with, laughing joyously and free like he never did at home.
The change in Sirius' demeanor is instant, sitting up in his chair with eyes lit up like twin stars.
"Yeah! James is the best!" He excitedly endorses. "But there's also Remus and Peter. James and I are like the leaders, we're always thinking of the coolest things to do and sometimes we have to get Remus to take his nose out of his boring books but he's hilarious once you get him going. Oh and Peter always finds the best hiding spots and passageways. It's how we're able to sneak everywhere under the teacher's noses and Minny pretends to hate us but we know deep down she-"
Sirius stops his rant, squinting at her suspiciously before sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. "You tricked me."
"I was simply listening." Galatea eases. "You care for your friends a great deal and they sound very interesting."
"Even if they're 'no good Gryffindors'?" Sirius mumbles, no doubt repeating words he'd heard from his parents or cousins. His voice grows quiet, guilt and shame creeping into his posture the longer he waits for her words of derision to come.
Galatea looks at the young boy across from her, bored and trapped in a place whose rules he was no more at the whim of than she was. He didn't ask to be here more than she asked to be married. Some guilt of her own makes her sigh, softening her posture and dropping the pretense of a perfect pureblood daughter.
It's the spark of kinship that makes her speak up.
"When you grow up, you'll see that the houses don't really mean very much." She tells him gently. Grey-blue eyes look up to her briefly before flicking away, but as long as he was paying attention to her words she didn't care.
"If you think about it, you'll start to see that there isn't really a need for the houses at all. They are an archaic system left over by four wizards and witches from the dark ages. It's only because of tradition that they are still there. When does cunning cross the line to cleverness? Or loyalty with bravery? The houses are there to help us be around like minded people in order to help us grow in our own ways. Hogwarts at its core is a school. People will group together no matter what. The houses just speed along the process.
"Nothing but the idea of being different separates us. Be friends with other Gryffindors if you so wish. Or Hufflepuffs. Or Ravenclaws. It doesn't matter to me. Even if Slytherins are the best."
Slowly Sirius looked to be dropping his guard, turning to her as he started to hang from her every word, until it dropped to unimpressed.
"Gryffindors are the best!" He protests, shame forgotten and replaced with a twinkling of pride.
Galatea smiles, hiding it behind a sip of tea.
"Whatever you say, dear fiancé."
Of course the guy that Julius bumped into on the train was the new Defense Teacher. And of course the new Defense Teacher was a guy that would know what a young Sirius Black looked like well enough to mistake Julius for him. And of course the man was hired the same year a certain mass murderer escaped Azkaban.
Julius thinks he's beginning to see what his mom means when she says Hogwarts isn't the safest place on earth.
"Now today," Professor Lupin begins, hands gesturing to an erratically shaking wardrobe. "We will be facing your greatest fears."
Julius should've just stayed home.
The man points out Marigold to come forward and demonstrate to everybody what exactly boggarts were and how to perform the ridikulus countercharm. The wardrobe opens ominously to a pitch darkness, for a moment perfectly still until a humanoid form, covered head to toe in a buzzing and angry swarm of bees steps out. Gasps sound from around the classroom and Julius instinctively reaches for his friend to pull her away but is stopped by their professor.
"Nope." Marigold tried to back away but Professor Lupin stood behind her to gently help raise her arm.
"Remember the spell, Miss Turney. Ridikulus." He instructs clearly.
"R-ridikulus!"
In an instant some stray bees turned to marbles that fell to the ground in sharp clacks. The humanoid figure started to stumble, arms careening every which way to help regain its balance to no avail. The class laughed at the odd display, Marigold breathing a huge sigh or relief.
"Very well done, Miss Turney!" Professor Lupin praised with a chuckle before turning to the rest of the class. "Who's next?"
Students scrambled to get in line as they each started to take turns. Julius tried his best to get to the back, but Cassius pushed him forward, with some good natured jeering.
"Hands off, Warrington!" He gripes, jabbing his friend with his elbow.
"Don't be such a wuss, Julie!" Cassius is unfazed, dragging him to somewhere closer to the middle.
"Go first then if I'm such a 'big wuss'!"
Cassius sticks his tongue out at him before turning to face the boggart on his turn. What had since been turned from an undead creature, to a small fluffy dog, to a raging fire that reached the ceiling, to a miniature fireworks display.
When Cassius stepped forward the boggart swirled before him until it decided to turn into a bizarre bird-like yet humanoid creature whose head bounced off one knee to the other. It was covered in bright red plumage, sharp teeth in its beak and staring at the boy with wide unblinking eyes.
"Ridikulus!" Cassius yelled in an unusually high strung voice.
The cackling bird exploded into a cloud of feathers, a small finch flying out from it and landing back on top of the wardrobe. Julius rolled his eyes with fond exasperation when his friend turned back around him and gave him a proud look complete with wiggling eyebrows.
Julius faced the boggart and took a deep breath, squaring himself up for a giant praying mantis or maybe a creepy circus clown.
There is a moment of pause as Cassius's transformed bird stares him down. Beady black eyes feel like they're sizing him up before it dives to the floor. What it changes into is decidedly not a clown or insect, but someone that Julius has never seen before. At least not in person. Wild and unkempt hair covering his face. In an instant Julius realizes he was foolish to think his greatest fear could've been anything else.
He takes a step back as a blue-grey eye the same shade as his stares into him. As the boggart comes closer, the chain of a manacled ankle clanking on the wooden floor, he sees that the man has the same nose. The same chin, the same line of his jaw.
"Ridi-" The spell barely makes it past Julius' lips as a hoarse whisper. He feels clammy hands come closer to grabbing his shoulders and the rancid warm breath of the boggart becomes a bit too real for his comfort. "Ridikulus!" He tries again, drawing air from his chest as he casts the spell.
The man is gone, replaced by a blank mannequin. Not necessarily the funniest thing to turn into, but it was the only idea that came to Julius' head in the moment. Its polished wood face shone in the light, the boy just barely being able to see his reflection on the curved surface.
When he looks around he sees that everyone is turned to stare at him, even their Professor.
"I-I'm sorry. I just need-I'm going to the bathroom I'll be right back." Julius says weakly, nodding to his friends as he turns away. No one tries to stop him as he goes.
When Julius had received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts his mother had been ecstatic. She knew, of course, that it was a long time coming. He had been performing acts of accidental magic since he was two. Teleporting out of his crib or making his toys float and spin in the air. Still it was another milestone reached and the only person more excited than his mother was Julius himself.
They had gone to Diagon Alley before the week was over, buying everything from the required list and then some just to celebrate. In one hand Julius holds a bag of books he insisted he'd carry and in the other he holds his brand new wand. Carved from cypress, with a unicorn hair core and nine inches. It wasn't particularly flashy but it had a simple spiral curve of a handle that his thumb perfectly fit within its grooves and he loved it because it was his.
He walks beside his mother who smiles down at him patiently listening to any inane thing that came out of his mouth.
They are just stepping out of Madame Milkin's preparing for the journey home when a woman with blonde curly hair piled high into a bun and flashy glasses approaches them with swift clicks of her heels.
"Well if it isn't Madame Black in the flesh!" The stranger greets. A wide smile is on her face but something about it puts Julius on edge.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. We've met before. A pleasure to be running into you again." She holds out her hand to Galatea and hardly flinches when it's not taken.
"You must excuse me, I don't quite remember." Galatea's voice is calm and measured, carefully blank at the sudden interaction.
Pulling back her hand Skeeter's smile, if possible, grows albeit stiffer than before. "Well it only makes sense. You were occupied with other things as I recall. Your brother's trial made front page news, had the whole office in a frenzy."
Julius' mother nods, her hand coming up to lay on his shoulder protectively.
"I see. Is that all?"
"Well now that you ask I would love to ask you some questions-"
"You must excuse me again, I'm in quite the hurry. I'm afraid I don't have the time." Galatea's tone is stiff with finality as she strides away, Julius in tow. Skeeter doesn't bother to notice it, falling into a hurried step beside them.
"Oh that's quite all right, I have these nice strong longs beneath me, no problem keeping up. Oh and who is this? Young Master Black? Out here in Diagon Alley shopping for his first year at Hogwarts?"
The woman's dark eyes lock onto Julius, and suddenly he realizes why he felt so uneasy. Her gaze looked hungry, eager for any information she could squeeze from her prey. If given the chance she'd chew him up and spit him out.
"Why, he looks just like his father! Unless of course he looks more like his uncle. I wonder will his house sorting be an indication of who's progeny he actually is? Does he know of the sordid past of the Black Family? Are you hiding it from him? What say you about the rumors of the Malfoy's attempt to gain higher status through you and your brother's spouses, Widow Black?"
The reporter's words come out so quickly and without break that Julius' head starts to spin, ears filling with only the sound of Skeeter's voice.
He doesn't even notice when his mother stops in her tracks, slowly turning to the other woman with a cold look in her eye.
"Indulge me, Miss Skeeter." Julius feels the hand on his shoulder stiffen, a little uncomfortable but he feels glued to the cobblestone as his mother's voice is harsher than he's ever heard it.
"You seem to be having so much fun pointing fingers and spouting nonsense, it makes me want to join."
For a moment the woman looked pleased to have gotten a rise from Julius' mother. Leaning forward to hear as much as she could, unwittingly sticking her hand into the bear trap that was Galatea's smiling face.
"First some truths. I figure you needed the distinction. My father was a close friend with Barnabus Cuff. You should know that name, he signs your checks. Invited him to every Yuletide party. Lovely man, terrible at holding his liquor. My father also made generous donations to The Prophet annually, a tradition my brother upholds resolutely. All for the pursuit of the truth of course. Your industry is a tricky one.
"Now for our game. What if I were to tell dear Barney, that you, Miss Skeeter, haven't been selling front page news like you used to? The war's ended and the people have moved on from Death Eater trials and Dark Lords. We wouldn't want your prestigious paper to be brought down by some one trick pony."
The more his mother talked, words and their weight flying over Julius' head, Rita Skeeter lost her smile, leaning back and growing pale.
This time it's Galatea who leans in, voice low and dangerous. The trap closing around the hand.
"You can write what trash you will about me. My integrity, my life, my choices. Don't think I don't take notice of your dishrag gossip. If I ever read of my son in your articles, there will be no publisher in the world you could beg to print your work. Understood?"
Galatea stands back up to her full height, despite being the same height as Skeeter, staring down at her with chin raised high. She doesn't wait for a nod of understanding, simply turning on her heel. Her hand guides a quiet Julius forward, the two of them walking away with their things in silence.
It isn't until they make it back safely behind the doors of Grimmauld Place that his mother sighs, dropping her things to the ground uncaring and slumping into an armchair by the fireplace. Julius doesn't think he's ever seen his mother look so tired.
"Julius." His mother calls for him from where he stands cautiously in the entryway.
When he goes to her side her gaze is still fixed upon the fireplace. "I'm sorry you saw such a nasty side of your mother today."
Slowly Julius shakes his head. "It wasn't nasty." He tries to assure. It had been new, unexpected, a little scary, but she had done it for him and he thinks that should merit something.
Somber grey eyes turn to look at him, staring at him but also straight through him at the same time. Like she was thinking of someone else while she did so.
"Julius, there will be people you will meet that will say the same things to you as that woman today." She warns him in an even voice. "They will feel owed an answer because you are you and your family name is 'Black'."
A large warm hand holds his, giving a tight squeeze of his fingers before relaxing. "As much as I would like, I cannot keep you from it forever. Will you be alright? Hogwarts is only one school. There are others that you could attend where no one would bother you."
Julius shakes his head again, confused at the sudden change the day had taken. This morning his mother had laughed proud and joyous at the wax sealed envelope Julius had received from their owl, Armstrong. He'd gotten to go to Diagon Alley, pick up books, supplies, his wand.
And now all because of one pushy person the day had been soured and his mom looked sad, and he didn't know why.
"'I'll be okay." He says instead. "It's just words."
Galatea stares at him a moment longer, a small sad smile pulling her lips up before she places a kiss to the top of his head.
"You're absolutely right, my darling. It's just words."
Julius should have figured that tales of his boggart would've traveled through the whole school by dinner time. The hairs on the back of his neck raise as he catches glances and quick turning heads everywhere he looks. Across from him Cassius is trying his best to cheer him up, explaining the plot of a muggle movie called Labryinth and why it was definitely worth being scared of, thank you very much Marigold.
He brings a spoonful of mash potatoes to his mouth, chewing but not really tasting them when he hears his cousin's voice.
"Julius." Draco's tone is serious but filled with sincere concern.
"How goes it, cousin?" The tired older boy greets back.
"This was because of that fool for a professor that Dumbledore hired wasn't it? I'll tell father to get him fired at once. First that ugly chicken and now this. It's inexcusable."
"Draco, remember what I said on the train?" Julius intercepts before the blond boy could turn and start his crusade.
Draco rolls his eyes, frowning in obvious displeasure. "Not to tell father or Aunt Gala about anything that happens with Sirius Black." He parroted back. "But it wasn't Sirius Black! It was a boggart."
"That turned into Sirius Black. So it still counts."
"I'm just trying to help!"
Julius feels a fond smile on his face as he looks at his younger cousin's irritated face. It was the first genuine one he's had since Defense class. He pats the space next to him, inviting him to sit and eat.
"What was yours then, Drakes? Your boggart."
The boy scoffs again, a scoff that Julius recognizes when his cousin is about to start talking about a certain boy-who-lived. "As always Potter had to go and ruin everything. I didn't get to have a turn because he almost fainted from freight at a dementor of all things. Can you imagine?"
"A dementor, huh? I guess the rumor of him fainting on the train has some merit after all." Cassius muses across from them.
"That's what I said! Now how hard do you think it is to beckon one over on command?"
"Draco, that's terrible." Julius half heartedly scolds.
"No one has to know it's me!"
Someone clears their throat behind the two cousins loudly interrupting Draco's, probably joke, plans. When Julius cranes his neck he sees the source was Professor Lupin the dark haired boy is almost tempted to vault over the table and start running. The only thing holding him back was that such an action would definitely cause a letter to be sent back to his mom.
"Hello Professor." Julius greets quietly, pushing his cousin back down into his seat before he could talk to the man first.
"Mister Black." Lupin nods, sounding just as tired. "Would you care to join me in my office after dinner?"
"I'm not in trouble for leaving class am I?"
"I'm afraid not." The scarred man smiled ruefully. "Under such circumstances I believe anyone else would've done the same in your shoes. The fault is mine for having my first lesson be making children face their biggest fears."
Julius looks at his plate that was near empty in the first place and sighs. "I'll go with you now then. I was about done anyway."
"But Julius-"
"I'll be fine Draco. I'll catch up with you in the common room." The older Slytherin tried to smile reassuringly one last time over his shoulder to his friends and family before following Lupin out of the Great Hall.
—-
"Well it's not like you idiots could ever even wish to hold a girl's hand, much less kiss one." James yells back at his mocking friends, making fun of him for getting ooey gooey about a certain Lily Evans.
"Peter can't look a girl in the eye without running away. Remus would rather kiss his pages than a real life person. And Sirius you're the most hopeless case of all, you mangy mutt. Never in your wildest dreams would a girl willingly step foot near you."
"Hah! That's where you're wrong!" Sirius crows, face smug like it is when he knew something the other didn't. "I have a fiancée and she's the one that asked me."
For a second the courtyard is quiet, three boys exchanging looks before snorting in disbelief in Sirius' face.
"Yeah right, Padsy!" Peter snickers.
Sirius frowns, standing on his feet and glaring at his friends. "It's true!"
"And birds can swim and fish can fly." Remus quips with a fond roll of his eyes.
"Pads, you could've just said girlfriend." James informs. "We still wouldn't have believed you, but it's more believable than 'fiance'"
"She's real!"
"What's she look like?"
"Blonde."
"What're her hobbies?"
"...Drinking tea."
"What's her favorite color?"
"...Green?"
"Why haven't we met her then?"
Sirius clicks his tongue, an embarrassed flush making his face turn red. "She's already graduated."
"Oooooohh!" His 'friends' chorus around him, leaning in to get more information.
"I didn't realize you were into older women, Sirius." Remus prods.
James grins ear to ear, jumping to his feet and shaking Sirius by the shoulders. "Go on then. What's her name?"
Sirius grits his teeth, knowing his foot is too far in his mouth to spit it out now. "...galateamalfoy."
Jame's leans in close, squinting in concentration as he pushes his friend to repeat the name louder.
"Galatea Malfoy, alright?!" Sirius yells, giving up the ghost. SIrius glares at his fellow Marauders, face practically about to melt off as the other three boys look to each other in a stunned silence.
"YOU'RE MARRYING A MALFOY?!" James cackles at the top of his lungs. The dark haired boy falls back, arms clutching at his stomach.
"Shut Up Prongs!" SIrius kicks his laughing friend. James could do little more than roll away chuckling to himself in the grass.
"Quick! Quick, make bets." James breathlessly directs. "I bet they won't last a month. No, a week- no! They won't even make it to the ceremony."
"I think it could work out. In a snake eating a rabbit whole, kind of way." Peter tries to placate, chuckling a little himself.
"I think it'll last a year. Remus bets, suspiciously wiping mirthful tears out of his eyes. "And then Sirius will 'mysteriously' die in his sleep."
"Argh! You guys aren't funny!" Sirius throws his hands up in the air in frustration.
—-
The defense classroom looked different in the dark, shades drawn despite the sun having already set. Julius is kind of grateful for it. He doesn't think he could stomach seeing his reflection at the moment if he looked out the window. Instead he picks at the trinkets that lined the sills and hopes his teacher doesn't notice he's avoiding looking him in the eye.
"He's not my dad." Julius says in a practiced tone. "A lot of people think that's the case."
Professor Lupin nodded knowingly as he sat back on his desk, watching Julius with a careful look. "I'm afraid I owe you an apology Bl…Julius."
The boy shakes his head, not knowing if he was really ready for that. "It's fine. Really. Not like you made that boggart change into him."
"Not for that, although that is its own apology. I meant for our run in on the train."
Julius draws back his hand, finally looking to his professor. The man looked tired in the candlelight, eyes far away as he got lost in his thoughts.
"Were you two close?" Julius delicately broaches.
"We were in the same house. Dormmates even." Professor Lupin's voice sounded like he was in pain at the admission, face twisting in a grimace and it almost makes Julius want to tell him to stop.
"...I'm sorry." The boy tries but his professor just shakes his head.
"Don't be. That's not why I bring it up. I do it because I admit I was wrong on the train. You don't look like him at all."
"Really?" Julius tugs the hair at the nape of his neck nervously, trying to hide the way there shaking in the familiar motion.
"The boggart that formed in front of you today didn't look anything like the man I knew. Not that you need it from me, but I can assure you that Sirius Black isn't your father."
A large sigh of relief escapes Julius, heaving his chest as he feels lighter than he has all year. A part of him feels guilty for it. He would never doubt his mother or her words, her promises. But an inkling no matter how small, a nagging whisper that his mother was only human, why would she want him to ever see her in such a light or have him be burdened with the truth, is washed away with the assurance of his teacher.
When Julius turns back to him it's not quite a smile on his face but something unguarded and open. "Thank you, professor."
His professor does smile, but that sadness is still there in the corners of his eyes as he looks at Julius. "Of course."
Author's Note
Angst? In my fanfiction?