It was probably for the best that Aunt Anjali was the one that came to tell them that Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban. It took the collective efforts of her, Julius, and Kreacher, on Julius' order, to stop his mother from going to MInister Fudge himself and ripping him apart.
When Galatea had made a break for the floo powder Anjali intercepted her path and Julius had lunged to wrap his arms around her waist. If she tried to aparate away Kreacher was there right behind her to bring her back.
"What is the point of an inescapable prison if it can't keep bloody serial killers inside of it" She seethes, giving in with an angry huff and crossing her arms over her chest.
"We're doing everything in our power to get him back, Gala." Anjali assured. "He'll be back where he belongs soon."
Julius meets his mother's worried gaze and tries his best for a reassuring nod despite the growing unease in his chest. He thinks of whispers behind his back, pointed fingers, and probing questions. Transported back to his first year where the name Black was like a brand for everyone to see and pass judgment.
Julius shakes his head free of those memories and takes a deep breath. He should have faith in the aurors, in Aunt Anjali. They'd catch Sirius Black before things got too out of hand, and even if, Merlin forbid, this bleed into his fifth year things were different than back then. He had his friends, his family. He knew how to actually wield his wand.
With a few more assuring words Aunt Anjali takes her leave, pressing a kiss to her lover's cheek.
"We'll get him, Gala."
"If anyone, it's you." They exchanged quietly before the auror was out the door.
The house felt unnaturally quiet, Julius watching his mother stand at the closed door for a long time lost in her thoughts. He exchanges looks with a lingering Kreacher, both of them unsure of their next steps.
"Julius." The woman eventually breaches.
Don't teach again, don't teach again, don't teach again. Julius mentally chants like a mantra. He thinks the combo of teacher mom and serial killer uncle would be too much.
"What is your opinion of taking a gap year?"
Galatea didn't want to get married. She had made her mind up about the topic.
She had seen the coldness of her father and the lonely suppression of her mother and decided ultimately the whole idea was an insult to her personal philosophy. She would never willingly go into that still night, her father would have to drag her kicking and screaming.
She tells him so when for once he calls her into his office instead of Lucius. It's such a rare occurrence she is greedily taking in the sights of book filled shelves and large ebony desk that it takes her second to comprehend the files slid across to her on said desk. Deceptively innocuous mainly folders that have descriptions of her male, pureblooded peers.
"No." Are her first words to the offensive pile, hand itching for her wand to set it ablaze.
"You must choose." Abraxas orders in an infuriatingly final tone.
"Rabastan Lestrange? Thomas Goyle? You can't be serious."
"They are from good families and are closest to your age."
Galatea scoffs, standing from her seat and pacing around the study. "I once saw Thomas Goyle regurgitate his whole lunch on the Quidditch Pitch and then land in it. Do you think that is someone you want associated with the Malfoy name?"
"You can't avoid it forever."
"Forever? I'm sixteen! I'm hardly 'avoiding' anything."
"And yet Lucius has already found himself a sufficient match."
Galatea pulls a disgusted face, anger bubbling in her stomach. "Narcissa? She's younger than we are. I doubt she is thinking of marriage either."
"It has already been discussed between the Blacks and I. When the time comes Lucius will propose to Cygnus' daughter."
She doesn't bother to stop the disbelieving snort to the idea of Lucius doing anything as grown up as proposing to anyone. She ignores the intense glare from her father as she sits on the arm of her chair in a way that she knows grinds the man's gears. She presses her hands together and taps the tips of her fingers to her forehead. Her classmates often joked that it looked like she was praying when she thought particularly hard, but it was a habit she never broke.
"If Lucius gets a Black, then so will I." Her mouth says the words before the idea is fully formed.
There was no way Galatea planned on getting married as soon as she graduated. She wouldn't stand for it. If people called her a cougar or a spinster she didn't care. The look of disappointment on Fierro Morgan's face flashes in her mind and Galatea thinks she'd prefer anything over ever feeling like that ever again.
Galatea knew that Narcissa had a cousin, a male one in fact that wouldn't be of marriageable age until well after she herself had lived a good chunk of years outside of Hogwarts.
"Sirius Black. Him and no other."
Galatea can't help but feel some sense of vindictive satisfaction as she watches at least two wrinkles join the collection on her father's face.
In short it takes Julius nearly a month to convince his mother to let him go back to school. From insisting that he can't miss his exams to assuring that Hogwarts was more than capable enough of keeping one man out, he wears her resolve down. By the time she gives in with a tired sigh, putting a warm hand to his dark curls and petting them back, it's almost too late to buy the required list from Diagon Alley.
In apology she gets him an advanced charms book and a fanciful silver and opal ring he had been eyeing while he was having his robes fitted.
"It's only because I worry for you, Julius." Galatea hovers as they stand before the Hogwarts Express.
"I know." Julius nods distractedly, not quite believing that his mom actually let him come.
"And that I give you full permission to defend yourself in any way possible."
"Yes mother."
"And no matter what you always be my little sweetest darling boy."
"Mooooooooomm." Julius groans, coming back to the present.
His mother chuckles at his expense before giving a final embrace to the boy who was growing more into himself everyday. As she pulls away her hands tug and readjust his clothes, minute details that only served to prolong their goodbye.
"Do you think there's still time for me to talk to the new Defense Teacher?" Galatea jokes and Julius steps away in a hurry, not liking where the conversation was heading.
"Oh did you hear that?" He pretends to point out. "I think I can board the train. Prefects first and all that."
With a laugh his mother lets him go, helping him push his luggage into the train car. "Look after your cousin."
"Always." Julius promises, looking back one last time before waving goodbye.
Galatea always liked the ritual of goodbyes at King's Cross.
The first time had been terrifying. Letting her eleven year old child go and be gone for months before he'd come back for the holidays. It got easier little by little, Julius' grip becoming looser and quicker to let go over the years.
It was a feeling she hadn't been privy to in childhood. Her and her brother always pushed into the train as swiftly as possible, their father not keeping it secret how much he detested being around muggles and their ilk. In their later years he didn't bother to come to the station at all, trusting them to be more than capable of bringing themselves to and from school.
Personally Galatea doesn't think she could bear the thought. Seeing her child off without saying so much as a goodbye. When the day comes when Julius leaves and doesn't turn around, an adult in his own right, she thinks her heart will break and soar in equal measure.
Galatea dabs at her watery eyes quickly before anyone can catch her in such a vulnerable state. She has a small chuckle to herself. Motherhood was a terrible look for her.
She makes to walk back towards the passage to King's Cross, plans to spend the day with Anjali in the muggle world on her mind, when she sees the flock of the Weasley family, accompanied by Harry Potter and the Granger girl.
Her gate slows to a stop as Molly turns around, counting and recounting the heads of children that she had under her wing. When she's satisfied she ushers them all onto the train, too late to have a long goodbye, fussing over every last one of them until they are gone like chicks from the nest. Only then does her gaze come up to meet Galatea's.
"Molly." Galatea nods politely. "Always a pleasure."
"Galatea." The woman greeted distractedly, eyes glancing back to the train for one last glimpse. "How are you doing?" She asked, genuine concern in her voice.
It makes the corners of the blonde woman's mouth tilt upwards just slightly. "As well as I can. My son is the same. You should've heard him trying to convince me to let him attend school this year."
They come to stand together as they watch the train pull away from the station. Molly is waving with all the strength she can muster in her arm, making Galatea want to wave as well, even if Julius was further ahead in the prefect's car.
When the train pulls fully away from the station they share the same wistful look before sighing. Galatea offers her companion her handkerchief, Molly taking it gratefully.
"You should've heard about how quickly they were trying to push Harry to go to Hogwarts." She informs Galatea as she dabbed her eyes. "They couldn't get the poor boy there fast enough. Holding him up in the Leaky Cauldron of all places for weeks."
"Does he know, Molly?" Galatea asks incredulously, unsure of how much information of his own life Harry Potter was privy to.
"I would be very surprised if he didn't know at least something by now. Arthur wanted to tell him right away, to warn him at least, but the Minister told all of us to keep shut about it."
"Fudge. That fool." Galatea scoffs in disgust. Next to her the red haired woman nods in agreement. A quiet moment passes between them before Molly perks back up.
"Well I better get going. The Burrow won't clean itself, you know."
Maybe it's because they're both mothers, the two of them sharing the same mix of melancholy and pride. Maybe it's because Galatea sees her as an actual friend that she reaches out to her, laying a hand on the woman's shoulder.
"Molly, why don't you join Anjali and I for lunch, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to catch up."
Maybe it's because Molly sees her in the same light that she lets a smile onto her face, content and joyful.
"Oh Anjali! How is she doing these days?"
The two women exited the platform in tandem as they continued their talk.
In the height of the First Wizarding War Anjali Greele is attacked by Death Eaters.
When she heard the news Galatea had rushed to the hospital, heavily pregnant and hysterical. Many nurses had tried to direct her to the maternal ward but she jerked away from them demanding to be taken to see her friend.
It had taken far too long for them to heed her words, pointing to where the woman was being kept in a medical cot. Galatea wasted no time running to her side, heart pounding as she tried her best to look upon her lover's condition. Pregnancy certainly didn't help her heightened emotions but it wasn't that that made a new wave of tears spill down her cheeks.
Anjali's brown skin was mauled by cutting charms, criss crossing her face and body. Tender pink scar tissue knit her back together, the quick work of potions healing what would've been weeks of recovery. Her dark curly hair that Galatea used to run her hands through and braid during quieter days was chopped short and uneven, like someone had taken a dull knife to it.
Most horrifying of all, the woman's left arm was gone. Surgically cut off at the bicep and wrapped in already staining bandages. They tell her it was a miracle that she still breathed, that they had gotten to her just in time.
Galatea interlaces her shaking hands with Anjali's limp, too cold hand, bringing the back of it to her forehead. Her heart feels like it's breaking but overflowing with relief as her eyes are unable to do anything more than well up with tears or gauge the rise and fall of her lover's chest.
The blonde is only broken out from her grieved daze when she hears another woman run into the ward, wide eyed and breathing heavily like Galatea had been just moments before.
"Where are they?" She demands hurriedly. Nurses come up to try and calm her down but the red haired woman shakes them away. "Where are they!"
"Mrs Weasley you must understand-"
"They're my brothers! I have to see them now!"
"We did all that we could-"
"Fabian! Gideon!"
Galatea can see from this distance how desperate Molly Weasley was becoming, eyes darting around the ward, not hearing a word the medical staff was saying. Overwhelmed and tears pouring down her cheeks, Galatea sees the woman reach for the wand at her side before the employees do.
"Expelliarmus." The blonde woman casts the spell before anyone could get hurt.
Red rimmed brown eyes train on her as Molly's wand flies out from her grip. "Malfoy!" She hisses before pushing past the nurses holding her back and coming up to Galatea. "Why them?!" The furious and heart broken woman screams as she fists the other's collar.
"Why of all the people you bastards could've gone after, why my brothers?"
Employees rushed to pull the two of them apart, but Galatea raised a hand to stop them. "I don't know, Molly." She answers honestly in a quiet shaking voice. "I don't know and I'm sorry."
She sees the red haired woman give a sidelong glance to where Anjali's still recovering body was. Taking in the lacerations and fresh blood that would be forever with the woman evem when she healed. A dawning look or realization comes over her face as she looks back at Galatea.
Some of the tears streaking down Molly's face drop onto the blonde' cheeks, mixing with the wetness that was already there. "I'm so sorry, Molly. I-I'm so sorry they hurt Anjali too and-"
Tentatively the fists in Galatea's collar loosen as they instead move to gather her in a tight embrace that she returns. Neither of them talk about the tears or snot that stain the other's clothing after they part. Neither of them talk about the emptiness in their chests that makes them sit in St Mungos till the sun rises.
Julius had only one thought as the train came to a stop in the middle of its journey.
His mother will not be hearing about this.
The air grows so cold that mist comes from his mouth when he breathes and he begins to shiver. Cassius' teeth chatters and Marigold shakily points at a shadow that floats past the window.
"It's a dementor." She whispers, fearing if she were to be too loud that the beastly thing would come towards them. "I thought they were joking about having them guard the school."
"S-some family reunion, huh?" Cassius jokes with false bravado, which Julius smacks his arm for.
"Shut up, stupid. He's probably not even on the train. There's no way he could be." Julius tries to convince himself more than his friends.
When the warmth comes back as the shadow grows further and further away, it feels like the entire train car takes a sigh of relief. Some students laugh awkwardly to defuse the tension while others are busy rubbing the warmth back into their fingers. He waits for the lurch of the restarting train before clearing his throat and standing. Julius straightens his robes, pretending not to see the side long glances he gets from his fellow students. "I need to go make sure my cousin is okay."
"More like make sure he doesn't snitch." .
Julius smacks Cassius again because he's right but he shouldn't say it.
He exits the prefect's car, making one last face at his teasing friends before closing the door behind him. He takes a moment to take a deep calming breath before pushing off to search for Draco, the need to find his cousin so urgent he doesn't see what's right in front of him until he runs into a man that feels as thin as a rail but looks to be trying to make up for it with his sweaters and frumpy robes.
"My apologies." The stranger regains his stance first, offering a hand to pull Julius up. "I didn't see y- Sirius?" Pale green eyes meet Julius' own grey-blue, wide and disbelieving.
It was the last thing Julius wanted to hear, being mistaken for his murderous uncle, but he took the hand anyway. Luckily the mistake was whispered underneath the man's breath so only the dark haired boy could hear it.
"It's fine sir. The fault is mine." Julius hurried to say, hand slipping from the surprisingly firm grip as he rushed down the hallway.
Galatea is dressed in dapper laces and frills, posture ruler straight as she drinks from her porcelain cup of tea. On the other side of the small table is a fidgeting Sirius Black, tugging at his neck tie fruitlessly, no matter how hard he pulled it always seemed to return to its near choke hold around the boy's throat.
"So...do I know you?" The boy asked, finally giving up on the garment. He slouched in his seat, cheek length hair falling over his face, expression not even bothering to hide his wanting to be anywhere else.
"No, but I think I've accidentally made your life difficult." Galatea couldn't keep the smirk off her face. Her plan may work better than expected.
Sirius huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Thanks for that. Not like life can get especially harder here."
"You're welcome." The girl obliges, not bothering to extend the conversation. It was fun to watch her host grow more fidgety and annoyed as the silence grew.
"You never told me who you were."
"Your mother introduced us."
"Yeah, but I never listen when she talk-ack!" Sirius's hands flew to his throat as the tie grew noticeably tighter for a moment before relaxing.
"I'm Galatea Malfoy." The blonde reintroduces herself as she watches the boy recover from a coughing fit. "I'm here because our parents want us to get along."
"Malfoy?" He hoarsely choked out. "You mean the same Malfoy that Cissy talks about in her diary all the time?"
"SIRIUS!" An enraged, scarlet faced Narcissa jumps out from behind the entrance to the patio, Andromeda and Bellatrix Black snickering from the same hiding spot.
"Uh oh." Galatea is soon left alone as her host jumps from his seat and runs into the yard like his life depended on it.
As she watches the ensuing chase, she hides her suppressed laughter behind her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she sees someone else beside the other Black sisters. A younger boy with the same wavy dark hair and grey-blue eyes as her supposed groom to be.
Their eyes meet for a second and Galatea realizes she has been caught in an unladylike state. She gives a small wink, finger to her lips in a shushing motion.
From this distance she can barely make out the small flush that overtakes his face as he ducks back behind the doors and out of sight.
Author's Note
Mmmm Monkee