AN: I am changing to posting on Thursday's moving forward. I am still writing this fic, but once it is finished I will likely move to posting 2x a week. If anyone would like to Beta read, please let me know.
River's fingertips brush against the veil. "What's on the other side?" There's a hum in her ears, a whirring of something coming to life. She can feel it settling underneath the surface, something almost like her blood calling out to the other side.
"If you step through, there's no coming back." They warn her.
River doesn't hesitate, her lithe fingers brush the material, reach through, and grab hold to the unknown.
Chapter 3: Straightjackets and Roses
"Well, it's very nice to meet you, River Tam." Sirius says as he slowly and cautiously steers her back towards the hospital bed she previously occupied. "Do you know who everyone else is as well, or would you like me to make introductions?"
River's eyes dart around the room again. Lupin, Harry, and Hermione all remain on edge, while Dumbledore looks at her inquisitively. He watches as she tilts her head to the side. Continuing to hold his gaze before wincing slightly and pulling her eyes away from him for a moment. A small smirk begins to form on Dumbledore's face and River glances back to Sirius.
"I know who they are, but… I don't. It's getting very crowded in here." River says as her hands cradle the sides of her head and try to massage her temples.
"Why don't we leave you to rest and get to know Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger then. We can come back after you have had a chance to orient yourself." Dumbledore says as he moves towards the door.
"Sirius, Lupin, a moment of your time?" Dumbledore says as he turns back to them briefly.
River's POV
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore feels like half truths and white lies, a rubato, the Old Castle, but his mind was quiet now compared to the others. Everyone had practically screamed at me in the small hospital room. Yet now their notes drift off into the ether. As I partially situate myself in the bed I flew from earlier,I look around and allow myself to…feel. Not just the texture of the sheets or the hospital gown I wear, but the tempo, the undercurrent, the energy around me. It feels… different, but…the same?
My eyes turn to Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of the age. They had been sharing pointed looks and hushed whispers before Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Albus Dumbledore had left the room to share their secrets in the hall. Now, Harry and Hermione's lips remain thin and drawn, wary, but their minds project loudly.
While Harry's mind is like the staccato of Spring… quick, crisp, confusion and clarity, a duality of action that can lead to recklessness, Hermione's is the legato of Nocturne, her thoughts flowing in along a stream in harmony, perfectly connected from one to the next. It's a dynamic balance… a partnership of intuition and slow, steady contemplation. Impulsive actions and careful deliberation coexist in a mental dance.
"You compliment each other." I say absentmindedly, while again massaging the ache off the previous loud cacophony away.
"Thank you?" Harry says confused.
"Did you really come through the Veil?" Hermione asks inquisitively, her eyes full of curiosity.
"Is that what it's called?" I say quickly picking up on Hermione's tendrils of logic trying to catalog everything she knows about the Veil.
"It was mental, Mione," Harry interjects excitedly. "No one at the Ministry even knows what it does. They've been coming by here waiting for you to wake up and talk to you."
The pin pricks of worry poke along my skin. People… What people?… like the Academy? No, no, can't just dig into me, shove twenty needles in my eyes and ask me what I see!…I need to leave. I move to get off the bed again and see Harry throw up his hands picking up on my panic. "They can be trusted… it's not everyone. Dumbledore has them convinced it was something connected to the dark spell Bellatrix threw at Sirius when everything was going on."
It doesn't assuage my worry and I move towards the door. My hand reaches for the handle as Sirius, Lupin, and Dumbledore move to come back inside.
"Goodness, you look like Prongs, ready to bolt at the slightest sound." Sirius laughs as his hands once again come to rest on my arms and move me back.
"It's alright River, you are safe with us." Lupin supplies quietly, his voice cuts through the panic, grounding me for just a moment.
Like Harry and Hermione, Sirius and Lupin's minds are opposites, but perfectly complementary. Sirius darting forward, leaping from idea to idea, while Lupin glides, taking time to think and plan… synergy. Their body language reflects this as well, as Lupin rests a gentle hand on Sirius' shoulder, an anchor of support and grounding.
"We were just coming to tell you that with both of you awake, the healers have allowed us to proceed with discharging you, and we can move you to Grimmauld." Sirius says as excitement laces his words.
"It should be… quieter, Ms Tam." Dumbledore adds to the conversation.
With a few quick words to the healers and Dumbledore's looming presence, River is given some thin leg coverings, an oversized sweater, and a pair of boots that appeared two sizes too big that looked like the cousin of the pair Sirius wears. "Best we could grab quickly." Lupin says as he hands them over to River. She didn't mind, and quickly dresses in the attached bathroom to the hospital room.
The six of them make their way to the apparition point in the courtyard of St Mungo's Hospital. While no one says a word as they walk, they steal glances towards the River. While her head was not on a swivel, and her hair fell in long tendrils like snakes down her back, there are small movements that would seem to jerk her attention away from their group.
"Have you done a side-along apparition before?" Sirius asks River as they reach the point outside the wards. River shakes her head no. "It can feel… a little disorienting at first," Sirius says as he turns to show her Lupin taking Hermione and Dumbledore taking Harry in a twist and swish of movement.
"Are you ready?" Sirius says as he pulls her towards him.
"Are you?" River's voice comes out in a whisper as they twist and swish into the air and away from St Mungos.
River's POV
It's like falling into a rabbit hole. Down, down down, and just as I am asking myself would the fall never end we land on solid ground. My legs feel like a rubber band that has been pulled, taught and snapped back. Had it not been for Sirius' hands steadying me, I would have toppled to the concrete at my feet.
"First time is always the worst." Sirius says as he helps me right myself. "Welcome to 12 Grimmauld Place." He hand lands on the small of my back to move me forward towards the door.
My eyes take in the building in front of me. The house sits twisted between two other brownstones, the remnants of its former grandeur apparent. Grey stone that has grown dark with soot and dirt. Windows coated in a thick layer of grime that makes them almost look opaque. It was likely very beautiful once upon a time before the house was left to wither and rot. While there is an overall ominous feeling, it gives way to remnants of its history, soft notes of a piano that plays…slightly off tune.
As I reach the door, the house seems to inhale a breath. But do houses breathe? Once across the threshold there is a release and it's like being brought into a tentative embrace… cautious, yet with hidden warmth buried deep. Like the walls are welcoming me… home?
"What is this place?" I ask as I take tentative steps inside. I can hear others in another room, muffled voices and thoughts… silent music leaving trails of who had been here moments before.
"My decrepit and darkest ancestral home." Sirius says with a flourish of his arms. "Best thing I can say is that the Black's had a horrible sense of interior design. You'll get used to the portraits moving," Sirius said with a grin. "Just don't let them gossip about you."
I feel the house seem to protest Sirius' words, creaking and shuddering as if it's an egregious affront. "It doesn''t like that." I say as I slowly move around the room, taking in the many bookshelves, frames covered with curtains, and other artifacts. What did the sheets cover? Are the windows really doorways to elsewhere, is that possible? And books… books seemed to shine and float, as if waiting to be called for. Are they sentient? Everything in this house felt alive.
As I turn back to him, his face eases, looking at me like I am a wounded animal. "It's a joke, kid. Relax." He softens his tone.
Before he can show me anything else the voices and internal music grow louder and Harry, Hermione, Lupin, and Dumbledore enter the room.
"Kreacher is bringing some tea." Harry says as he moves with Hermione to sit on a couch.
With all them back in one room my mind becomes a cacophony like the hospital. "It's very loud." I say with a wince.
"Apologies Ms Tam," Dumbledore says as he takes something out of his pocket, a wand? With a flourish of his hand an icy tingle settles into my mind and I stare at him with wide eyes. "That should help for the time being."
While the icy tingle muffles the music of everyone else, I can still hear it, but now it's a manageable whisper. "How did you?"
"Magic, my dear, but I believe I am correct to assume this is all very new to you." Dumbldore responds.
I don't know what to think. Magic is found in words, a literary device used to weave fantastical stories for children who need help learning the parables and lessons contained in them. Magic doesn't exist in the corporeal sense.
A gentle breeze brushes up against my mind. "Magic is real, Ms Tam, and I believe you have it too."
"I understand, but… I don't comprehend?"
"Let's go back a bit," Lupin interjects. "We'd like to hear a little more about you Ms Tam, if you would be willing." His calming words and presence surround me like a soft blanket.
We want to know where you're from… or when. Lupin's unspoken question lingers in his mind.
I hesitate to respond. How? How could I explain, who would believe me? Is this just another place I won't belong?
"I know what it's like," Lupin said softly, sitting beside me. "To feel like you don't belong. To be afraid of what's inside you."
I glance at him, unsure of his full meaning. But his quiet sincerity is something I recognize—something I hadn't seen in a long time. "You want to know where and when… Londinum, White Sun… 2517." I whisper.
I look at Lupin's kind eyes, that almost seem to reflect pools of sorrow and hidden depths. "But can you tell me when I am?"
"My dear Ms Tam, you are in London, England. It is the 19th of June…1996."
Lupin watches as the stranger in front of them as River starts to unravel. Her hands begin to twitch, her eyes dart around, yet don't land on anything, she paces slightly where she stands, and she starts talking to herself.
"19th of June…1996. Did they do it? Is that what the Academy was doing? Quantum entanglement, space, and time—they're all connected… they have to be? Like threading a needle through the fabric of the universe, collapsing the distance between here and there in an instant. But how would they have calculated the speed needed while accounting for the cracks where the rules don't apply?"
The air crackles with energy, the further River continues to babble, books rumble in the shelves, and the candles all flicker as if blown on by a breath meant to extinguish them.
"River…" Sirius tries as he gently approaches her. "We know this must be a shock." He says while moving the somewhat dazed girl to sit on the chair she is closest to.
"We want to help you figure out what happened." Lupin adds. "While magic can be startling at first, you needn't be alarmed."
"When I was eleven, Professor McGonagall came to my parents home and turned into a cat. I just didn't know what an animagus was at the time, so it was quite startling." Hermione chimes in to try and offer a small anecdote to calm River.
"Let's get you some tea… that should help. Where is that old wart Kreacher?" Sirius says before turning to see if the house elf has brought the tea tray. "KREACHER! BRING THE BLOODY TEA WILL YOU!"
There is a pop of apparition, and a grumbling Kreacher hobbles towards the coffee table between the seating. "Ungrateful swine.. Kreacher wishes Master Regulus was here, but no, Kreacher is stuck with…" But before another syllable comes from Kreacher's mouth, the tea tray drops to the floor with a clattering of china. Kreacher's eyes are trained solely on River sitting in the chair in front of him.
"...Mistress Black." Kreacher finally chokes out as more voices begin to echo around the room.
"What is he talking about?"
"What the fuck…"
"How is that possible?"
The voices only die down as Dumbledore clears his throat to quiet everyone down. The Headmaster's gravitas does the trick, and silence falls on the room. Dumbledore asks Kreacher the most pressing question. "Kreacher, how did you identify our guest as a Black descendant?"
"Kreacher felt her… when she showed up on the tapestry three days ago." Kreacher says as he points to the Black Ancestral Tapestry that hangs along the staircase.
Sirius, Lupin, and Harry move to get a better look of the tapestry. Sure enough, in the top right corner of the tapestry, a new portrait has magically woven itself into the threads, a scroll delicately beneath it labeling it as "River Marie."
Sirius can't help himself as he reads the name, a nervous chuckle escapes him. "Well… welcome home?"
River's POV
In the hours after Kreacher's revelation there had been more questions than answers. Questions that led to others converging at 12 Grimmauld Place, "Order members" Dumbleore had explained. I had winced at all the new faces, but was assured that they had only called a few trusted ones. They would give her time before introducing me to others.
There was a red headed couple Molly and Aruther Weasley, a jovial and somewhat overbearing allegro giocoso, a purple haired Auror, Tonks, whose hair matched the unpredictable modulation of her mind. Lastly, an Auror missing an eye, a marcato, a Mad Eye? Dumbledore had asked Harry to take Hermione to get her settled in a guest room before the Order members had arrived, a clear dismissal of who he viewed as children so that the adults could talk. I had tried to leave as well but was asked to stay and answer more of their questions.
It was a blur of faces, the condensed version of what happened three nights ago, an abridged version of my time at the Academy and where I came from, talk of dark magic, the Black Family history, Sirius' nervous laughter, punctuated with the occasionally pithy comment or question by Auror's had explained that the Ministry knew nothing about the Veil that Sirius had touched and River had come through. After the incident the Department of Mysteries had been locked down, no one in or out, and the Ministry was trying to bury what they could and avoid making the papers.
Straitjacket hanging off the edge of your vanity
Well aware that your family and your friends ain't a fan of me
Sirius or Harry would occasionally call for Kreacher to bring more tea to the table, and he would enter, cursing the "filthy half-breeds and blood traitors tainting Mistress's Black home." Kreacher was antagonistic at best to the others, but had immediately doted on me as the "rightful owner" and said how happy he was to have someone to displace "Sirius, the blood traitor, shame of his mother." Maybe it should have unnerved me, but something inside felt… at ease? Like something in my blood accepted that I was here.
Half of their words filtered in and out. I understood little and comprehended less. And as the third round of tea is brought out, I can't stifle the yawn from escaping.
There is a pop of apparition and Kreacher is gently taking my hand to lead me from the table. "Mistress Black is tired and should rest."
"Damn bloody meddling elf, she isn't going anywhere Kreacher…" Mad Eye had tried to stop him. But at his words the house gave a moan and almost seemed to shift on its foundation. The group remaining at the table does seem to draw their attention from me to the house. As if they are listening to what the walls have to say in the matter.
Stay with you even if you need a lobotomy
I won't stare at your scars, just remember the thought of me
"It doesn't like that." I whisper as I allow Kreacher to take hold of my arm and lead me towards the stairs. If anyone hears me they are choosing to not say anything. The whispers of their minds and music are too preoccupied with what they think is more important.
"We can reconvene this discussion with Ms Tam tomorrow then," Dumbledore says while taking a sip of tea.
"It's Mistress Black you pigheaded blood traitor." Kreacher says gruffly.
"Fine, FINE!" Sirius yells at Kreacher before another diatribe of curses can come from the crotchety elf. "Get her settled upstairs, Kreacher."
Like a broken down home that we rot in forever
'Til death do us apart, you know I'm writing you letters
Kreacher continues to mumble under his breath as we ascend the stairs, but part of me cannot help but feel relief to be leaving that… whatever that was downstairs.
"Thank you." I say to Kreacher as we hit the top of the landing.
"No thanks needed, Kreacher is here to serve the most Noble and Ancient House of Black." Kreacher says as he leads her down the hall.
I can hear whispers and mumbling, the familiar echo of Harry and Hermione's minds pressed against one of the doors as we pass. They grow quiet on the other side, before resuming as Kreacher and my footfalls move further away.
"Mistress River, do not trouble yourself with the whispers of lesser minds. They are weak, afraid of what they do not understand." He tells me as he opens a door to a room. The candles light themselves as we enter, and the house seems to whisper and welcome me inside.
Don't be scared, you can seek asylum in my insanity
"How did you do that?" I ask as I take in the opulence of the room while marveling at each new display of magic I see.
"You did, Mistress Black." Kreacher tells me as he moves about the room, snapping his fingers and clearing dust or removing sheets from the furniture.
"But how?"
"You are of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, yes, yes. You have greatness in your blood, magic in your very bones. Kreacher knows this. Grimmauld Place knows this."
I can't help but look at my hands in wonder. Was this there all along? Is this what the Academy was trying to study, to use? If everyone here has magic, then why did it feel like I was still the strange and unusual one?
When you're too far gone, I'll be holding the memory of you
'Cause I still want you
"Mistress Black should rest." Kreacher says as I look back up and see the room now has a fire lit in the fireplace casting warm shadows around the chamber. There is a desk in the corner, facing towards the fireplace covered in papers and books.
I walk tentatively towards the desk. "Kreacher, whose room is this?" There is order in the chaos of the room. A clear system to those who would know what they are looking for. I run my hand reverently over the desk, left as if the ghost of its owner had just departed.
"Master Regulus Black, rest his soul. He was the rightful heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black before Mistress. Kreacher served him as Kreacher will now serve you."
This startles me from my thoughts on the state of the room at his declaration. "What? But why?"
"You are the rightful heir."
"But what about Sirius? He's a Black."
"PHAAH!" Kreacher says with clear disgust. "That Blood traitor turned his back on the family - the shame of his poor mother the Mistress Walburga…you, Mistress Black… you are different. Kreacher lives to serve the heir of his beloved Mistress's line."
I think I fell in love
With a monster
I pick up the paper on top of the desk. Notes upon notes on types of magic, and the words on the paper swim in my eyes without much meaning. "Kreacher, can you bring me some books on magic? I think I have some catching up to do."
As Kreacher took the strange girl upstairs, the adults left behind continued discussing the matters at hand.
"We don't know where she's from, or what she's capable of," Moody growled, his magical eye swiveling to track where River had gone up the stairs.
"House tapestries cannot be forged. Whatever she is…her claim to the Black line is legitimate." Dumbledore responds while appearing to mull something over. "And she clearly displays some of the family's talents."
"What do you mean Albus." Molly asks.
"She's a very gifted and natural Legilimus. I could feel her mind bouncing around the hospital room when she woke up." He sips from his tea gingerly before continuing. "But something appears to have enhanced it. Even the mental binding I cast on her a few hours ago doesn't dull her gift entirely, just quiets it enough for her to not be overwhelmed in small groups."
"Possibly something done at the Academy she spoke of." Lupin interjects. "We might be able to use a Pensive, even if her memories were clouded by chemicals or she was asleep. It would allow us to see what they had done."
Sirius scoffs. "I'm not sure knowing is going to help. Never helped Bella."
Albus quirks his gaze towards Sirius. "Do you intend to recognize her, Sirius?"
Sirius leans back while summoning the Ogden's from the bar cart in the corner of the room. "Don't see why I wouldn't." He says as he takes a swig from the bottle.
Lupin reaches over and takes the bottle away from his lover's hand, while summoning two glasses for them instead. He quickly pours them glasses and hands one back to Sirius. "It won't be able to stay a secret for long. Someone there that night is bound to leak it to the press through one of their sources."
"But could she really be…" Molly doesn't finish her question though.
"How could she not be Molls?" Tonks cuts her off. " I was there.. I saw her come through. The timing, there isn't any other explanation."
Sirius slams his Firewhiskey back before setting the glass on the table. "She… she feels like family." He says without meeting anyones eyes. "And I don't know why, but.. Something. It just feels there."
"And do we think she'll feel like 'family' to any other of the Black lot." Mad Eye Moody questions.
"She will… she'd show up on most of the Sacred Twenty Eight lines." Arthur Weasly says speculatively.
"We're all too bloody inbred for her to not show up." Sirius says as he grabs the Firewhiskey to refill his glass. He's well intent on getting his way pissed, it's the only way he can think to deal with this situation.
"Sirius, you will need to acknowledge her publicly, and soon, if we have any hope of steering her away from their influence." Dumbledore says as he takes a sip of tea and sets it down.
Moody is getting visibly more flustered as the conversation goes on. "Why can't we just go arrest the bloody lot of them, we all saw them there at the Ministry with him at the attack of the Department of Mysteries."
"Cornelius will not allow the DMLE to do so," Arthur says with an exasperated sigh. "He thinks he can just bury the truth down so he doesn't have to deal with it."
"Bollocks, we all saw Malfoy there with the Lestranges and Dolhov. Bloody coward is what Fudge is."
Dumbledore moves to stand, unofficially ending all discussion for the evening. "I recommend we meet tomorrow, to discuss plans on how to introduce Ms Tam to the wizarding world."
Everyone nods in agreement. Arthur, Tonks, and Moody, all rise from their seats. Ever the obstinate one, Sirius remains seated, leaving Lupin to play host and escort them out. Before anyone can move away from the table, Dumbledore has a final remark. "I do think it would be wise to avoid telling Ms Tam about Siybll's vision."
"Albus, should we really…" Molly tries to reason with him.
"Until we are certain that we won't face any… complications. Like last time." He says with an air of finality.
No one says anything else as Lupin sees them all to the door. By the time he returns to Sirius, he can see the stress burrowing into his partner's features.
"Sickle for your thoughts?" Lupin says as he stands behind Sirius' chair and begins to massage his shoulders.
"Thinking about the family, about… particular qualities the Black's are known for." Sirius says as his hands move to cover Lupin's hands and seek the comfort there.
Lupin chuckles. "You're worried she'll inherit the Black Family madness?"
"It's like seeing Bella… before Rodolphus got his claws into her and made her more unhinged."
"We can only wait and see." Lupin says as he leans down and drops a soft kiss to Sirius' lips.
AN: So, what are we all thinking? Anyone want to guess who we may see in the next chapter?