Jk rowling owns harry potter universe and its characters. I make no profits.
This story is rated mature and gets very AU.
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Andrella
You would think that after shagging the man for eight hours straight, that a single look from him wouldn't make me lose my last wit. You would be wrong, because one peek of Sirius' heated gaze, and I am ready to succumb to madness. Again.
"Aren't you tired yet?" I groan as I place the glass of water on the kitchen counter, not trusting myself to drop it. Not with the resolve-rattling grin Sirius sends me.
"Physically? Sure, but it's not as if I'll let something so trivial stop me." Sirius says, his tone light but he's not joking. His smile is easy but the look on his silver eyes is not. It's understandable, simply read as desire.
I'm caught staring. I realize as I watch that easy smile turn into a signature smirk before his lips part to speak. "Say the words, Little Feather, and we can fulfill a long term fantasy of christening this kitchen counter."
"Not the room?" I hear myself ask before I process the words. Much like my eyes dart to the door to the special room and back to Sirius. Then down to the table because why would I say that?!
"Are we ready for the room?" Sirius asks and I try not to melt as his use of we.
"I—I-" I am stuttering and cursing my stupid teenage hormones.
Am I even physically a teenager anymore? I need to talk to the sisters and get some answers but right now I need to stop stuttering like an idiot and—
"I don't think I'm ready for that room. Not yet." Sirius saves me and confuses me once again. My thoughts still and I glance up at this face. "Not until we talk about some things, at least. And I think we can agree we have quite a few things to discuss."
"I…yes?" I find myself agreeing, but to what I'm not sure.
"Good. Now that's settled, why don't you go sit at the table while I get us some food." Sirius says gently placing his hands on me, one on my shoulder and one on my lower back. Focusing on his touch, I don't even realize he's guiding me to the table until my arse meets the cushion and he's tucking me in. "There. All settled. Now, any allergies?"
"No." It's an answer to his question as much as it is a refusal. Despite his repeated insistence, nothing feels settled.
"Excellent, because without assistance all I can manage is fruit. And I think we'll be fending for ourselves for a while given Dobby's shock." Sirius says easily, already walking off into the kitchen in search of fruit. He says it like it's no concern.
And why would it be for him? It wasn't like he had anything to be embarrassed about. He didn't have to explain to a house elf how he wasn't in danger or needing defense, how he enjoyed being choked and his screams were of pleasure and not terror.
"Thinking about something fun, Little Feather?" Sirius's voice is a husky whisper in my ear, so smoky and deep. More seduced than startled, that he managed to sneak up on me. I don't try to hide my gasp, knowing how it will affect him.
"If considering an appropriate apology gift to a house elf is your idea of fun? Then sure." I deflect and snatch the bowl of fruit from Sirius, careful to avoid touching him. Something he notices, apparently as he deliberately grabs my hand.
"We can raid the closet for hats. I think he'd like a hat. And after what he saw? I think he deserves a rather nice one." Sirius squeezes my hand before he moves to take the seat across the table from me.
The table is big enough that I won't be in his physical range, even if it means more eye contact. His eyes are safer than his hands. Marginally? Sure, but the difference swings in my favor.
"How is this so…easy for you?" I ask as I stab a melon slice with my fork. It's honeydew, my favorite. And the taste of it is bitter on my tongue when I shove it into my mouth.
The sound of Sirius' laughter strikes my last nerve. I clench my fork tight in my hand and point it at him, "What's so funny about that?"
"The fact you believe any of this is easy for me." Sirius says, voice light with sarcasm but not quite the right shade to reveal the truth it's trying to hide.
"What's so hard about it for you then?" I say and instantly freeze, knowing exactly what I just walked myself into, bracing for it.
Sirius gives me a lecherous grin and a halfhearted wink but dodges the easy pun. His clear amusement lessens the blow for him, not me, as he admits, "I'm still waiting to wake up in my cell in Azkaban with my tail tucked between my legs for daring to even dream of the time we've spent together in this bubble."
He looks at me when he says this. He continues to look at me now with the same even expression. But now I know that even if the smile is real, it isn't easy. And I don't know what to say, much less how to form words when he's looking at me like that. Like I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
"For the record, it would be worth it. As long as I remember the details, the memory of this will be enough." Sirius affirms, leaning across the table so he can take my hand.
It can't be comfortable for him but he doesn't look like he'll let go. Not unless I say something, do something. I squeeze back.
"I don't think this is just a dream, Sirius. This is real even if I don't understand it." I speak to our joined hands.
"Let's work hard now to understand it together and then we can spend the rest of our time enjoying it together." Sirius agrees eagerly. He squeezes my hand tightly before he lets it go and settles into his breakfast. He points to my abandoned fruit, "Eat up, love. You need to rehydrate and refuel after that. We both do."
I roll my eyes when he winks at me but eats another bite of melon. Cantaloupe. It's sweeter. The silence that fills the kitchen as we eat isn't as tense as before. Not that it lasts long. Stamina the man has in spades, but the ability to sit still or silent?
I'm actually surprised he doesn't speak with food in his mouth but he spends more time with food waving on his fork than actually eating once he gets started on his retelling of a prank he pulled on Remus their third year.
"That one went better than the one you pulled in fifth, did it?" I say and immediately regret it as Sirius's smile falls away completely. "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that."
"Because it's true." Sirius says, placing his fork down and pushing the bowl away. "And because you care about Snape?"
"I do, yes, but that was rude of me." I frown at the way Sirius won't look at me.
"It was honest and I appreciate it. I appreciate some more honesty now." Sirius says, finally looking up at me. "Can we be honest with each other, Andrella?"
"Yes, of course." I answer without hesitation. What secrets do I have left to keep? What lies would I tell?
"Why are you so fond of him? Protective even?" His tone is even and light, politely curious. His expression is neutral yet open. He waits patiently for me to answer.
My eyes narrow at his uncharacteristic lack of venom toward Snape. When the corner of his lips twitch in response they narrow further. Until I realize the reason he's fighting a smile. His gray eyes look pointlessly down at my clenched fists on the table and then back up. I unclenched them and face my palms flat on the table as I search for an answer.
"I am fond of him because I know him. The real him, as well as the many other faces he wears. I am protective for the same reason." I finally say.
His lips pull down and his eyebrow scrunch, his voice is soft as he says, "I thought I knew him once, too."
"I know." I say, with enough bite to make him finally meet my eyes without pretense. When he does, I continue firmly, albeit a bit softened at his apparent shock. "You misunderstand. I do not think I know him. I know him perhaps better than anyone else because I have felt his soul."
"Felt his soul?" It's confusion that makes his brow scrunch now and it's a better look than pity.
"Yes. We were practicing occlumency and legiminencey. It was similar to that except when I didn't view his memories from his head, but felt them from his soul. It is much more intense and there is no way to alter the intent."
"And what you felt made you trust him?" Sirius asks.
"Yes. I trust him and respect him. Since that moment, our relationship has been like night and day. It was a shock to no one more than me, even if it was a sticking point with the twins." I stop talking as soon as the pain of mentioning George and Fred so casually registers.
"And what exactly is your relationship with the surly Potion's Master?" Sirius plays up the mock annoyance and it's exactly what I need to stop sulking so I can roll my eyes at him.
"He's not surly with me."
"And why is that? He's not known to be nice to anyone, especially not a Gryffindor prankster."
"That's not exactly true though, is it?" I counter with a raised brow.
"I don't know what you mean." Sirius sniffs and stabs aimlessly into the long forgotten bowl of fruit in front of him. He doesn't stop stabbing the fruit until he spears a strawberry. I wait until he's chewing to reply.
"I think you know better than most how nice Severus Snape can be when he chooses."
He doesn't falter in the way I expect, but he does falter. Ever so slightly, but it's there, in the slight straightening of his purposefully slouchy posture. He finishes chewing his strawberry and meets my eyes. It's only then that I realize he was looking over my shoulder before. His tone gives away nothing as he asks, "Do you know him that way?"
"What?"
Sirius takes a deep breath and sets his fork down. "Did you also shag Severus Snape?"
"WHAT!? NO!" I shout, startling until my back hits the back of the chair with enough force to bruise. Even though it is an old accusation, hearing Sirius voice it is a new horror.
"So it is not a romantic or sexual relationship you share?" Sirius presses on, using oddly clinical language.
"Absolutely not!" I deny vehemently, scoffing at the absurdity. "He's more like a third dad than he'd ever be my—my lover." I shiver at the word, much like Sirius did at the word dad.
"First, let's agree to never refer to Snape by any of those words ever again." His voice is calm and quiet but his eyes are closed and his hands are shaking again. It's actually pretty hilarious.
"Agreed," I answer easily, watching Sirius relax. "And second?"
"Right," Sirius clears his throat and rights himself to look at me again. "You said third dad, who are the first two?"
"Well, my dad. The man who raised me, not the rapist, obviously." I try my hand at levity but we both wince at the truth. "And Mr. Weasley."
"Arthur?" Sirius looks surprised but when I nod he smiles. "Arthur and Molly are good people."
"They are." I agree easily, "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are…were… like my magical parents since I stayed with them a few summers ago. Before then really, now that I think about it. They sent care packages before I ever visited The Burrow."
"What do you mean 'were'? What changed?" Sirius asks, as straight faced as he can be. I realize he's not joking and I sigh. It would be easier if he was taking the piss.
"Everything's changed, Sirius." I lean back in my chair and gesture around us. Granted, the point would be better made in the living room in front of the impossible ocean view, but it was still valid here.
"But if they're like a second set of parents to you, they won't stop loving you." Sirius argues.
I'm not trying to read his soul, but when my eyes meet his I see flashes of it anyway. I see the Potters, adopting him, embracing him, loving him as their own son, brother, family.
"They won't but even so, I won't be able to see them for quite some time. For their safety, I have to stay as far away from them as I can." I say it simply, like it doesn't cut me.
Sirius must see it for the defense mechanism as it is because his silver eyes turn molten with compassion. He understands this. I learned it from Snape but Sirius was born and bred Pureblood. I see this in flashes. I see the cold, cruel, deflection and mannerisms ingrained in him by his parents. I see it beat into him. I see him cursed, flashes of red. I blink as the tears spill over my eyes, unsure when they began to pool in the first place.
I blink again when Sirius stretches over the table to wipe them away with his fingers. He gives me a sad smile and says, "When you return, they will welcome you."
I dare to look up and see him with his true family again—Euphima, Monty, and James Potter. Gone from the living but kept alive in Sirius' soul. The memory of their love is reflected in Sirius' eyes when he looks at me. It is a different kind of love, but it weighs the same, shines the same in the tears flowing down his own face.
I reach up to wipe them away like he did for me. He allows it but falls into the touch, "Tell me about them. Tell me about everyone in your life."
"No." I say absently, smiling when he freezes up at the perceived rejection. "Let me try something. I want to show you instead. Let's move to the living room."
"Okay." Sirius agrees, standing but waiting to follow me out into the living room.
I sit down on the big couch and Sirius sits down next to me, close enough for our legs to be pressed together. I don't say anything because the contact might help. If not with projecting the visions then for my own resolve to show them. I place my hand on his knee and he immediately covers it with his own. When I look away from our joined hands it's to see him still smiling down at them.
"Look at me." I order gently but he still listens instantly. His smile never lessens. "See my truth."
I show Sirius everything and when I say everything, I do mean everything. I flood his mind with every single memory I ever had so he can know me as I am—truly and whole without filter or restrictions. It is a test to words and his willingness. It is my attempt to give him the upper hand and choice.
He chooses to squeeze my hand and repeat the words. "Look at me. See my truth."
And because he is holding my hands and our souls are connected he has access to my magic. He can activate my magic and show me the truth I am too afraid to seek on my own.
And I do see it. I see him. I see it all. From his first memory (him holding Regulus as a newborn infant and promising to be the best big brother in his broken toddler speech) to the last one he had of me smiling back at him at the breakfast table ten minutes ago.
It's all in flashes, chronologically presented in a way true memories are, but Ismerte magic is different. Just like when I accidentally called upon it with Snape, or purposefully with Fred, I can feel into Sirius' soul as I watch his life play out. And just like Snape , Fred, and my visions, it speeds through the years without sound, stopping only on the memories the magic seems most important for me to experience in full.
The first one takes me by surprise, even though I knew my mother and Sirius grew up together. I don't know where they are except somewhere inside a library, the personal library of a pureblood based on some of the titles I could see on the shelves. The memory makes it known that its the Black Family library in Sirius's childhood home.
They were sitting together on a loveseat, an ancient tome spread open over their laps. Their feet didn't reach the floor as they swung back and forth, looking at the moving pictures in the book. They couldn't have been older than eight and six respectively.
I moved closer to see what they were looking at but I already knew before my mother pointed at a picture and leaned in to whisper to Sirius. "I am chosen by Merlin to help bring the Once and Future King back to Albion."
It was a picture of King Arthur pulling Excalibur out of the stone.
"Really?! How?" Sirius looked up to my mother with sparkling gray eyes open wide.
"By being the mother to The One to give them a second chance."
"Ew! Babies are gross!" Sirius gagged and pushed the book away.
The memory fades and swirls to another one of them, in the same library but older this time. They're at least school age, but it was my magic that supplied the information. Sirius was in his third year and my mother already graduated.
"Do not judge your brother so harshly, not all are able to forge their own paths as you have." My mother was admonishing him.
"But he's friends with Death Eaters! How can I forgive that?" Sirius argued and his tone was angry but I could feel the grief that hid behind the angst.
"By understanding that the choices you have made for yourself have left none for your little brother."
"So you're saying this is my fault?!"
"Not at all, just that your choices left no other options. If Regulus followed in your footsteps, the Black family would be left without an heir." My mother continued to calmly explain, using the same gentle patience one would with a toddler.
"And would that really be so bad?"
"It would never come to pass. If Regulus was not able or willing to take the role of heir that you left unoccupied, your parents would have never let you go."
"They haven't!"
"But they will." She says not with a sigh but a stern look. One that could put Mcgonagall's to shame.
Unlike McGonagall's, Sirius actually responds to my mother's. "What do you know?"
"That the Potters have a welcoming estate, their gardens bloom peacefully even in the dead of winter. James is a good chaser, but a better keeper. Remus could have been a Seeker but chose to be a coach." She's talking loftily, using some sort of weird code. Her green eyes are far away until they snap into focus and stare directly into Sirius's grays. Her voice sharpens as she says, "Peter is the snitch."
"You're so weird, Emma." Sirius scoffs and begins laughing at her. Her glare falls and the only sadness remains as she looks at him like a ghost.
The memory swirls and fades and they're back in a familiar library, but not the Black's personal library. They're at the Hogwarts' library, seated at my favorite study table.
"I can't believe you really made us invisible and really dragged me into the library! Do you know what kind of prank we could accomplish right now?"
Teenage Sirius exclaims and I can see the pout on his face even though his back is to me.
My mother is a few years older now, but as recognizable as the eye roll she sends his way. "Shut up wanker, this isn't a social visit and I didn't make us silent!"
"You still haven't told me what this 'super secret, super dangerous' mission is or why I'm the only one able to help you for that matter." Sirius snarks back, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. I bet his eyebrow is raised and that blasted smirk is on his face.
"I'll tell you when we get there. I need you to do something before we can go." My mother says this and then continues to stare at him.
"Well what is it, then?" Sirius finally scoffs after a few seconds of my mother staring him down.
My mother narrows her eyes at him while reaching into her cloak. She retrieves a familiar black journal and places it on the table, keeping her palm over the cover. "I need you to place this in the restricted section for me."
"Why can't you do it yourself?" Siris asks but places his hand on the book. My mother doesn't remove hers, keeping it in her hold.
"Because Dumbledore has placed a spell to alert him if I enter the restricted section and a few other areas of the school grounds." My mother answers simply, clearing pausing to allow him to ask an inevitable question.
"Why does he want this book?" Sirius asks.
"Because he believes it will give him power he thinks he can understand and control." My mother says, not even attempting to veil her contempt.
"But he can't?"
"Can't and won't." My mother says, finally smiling. It is a fierce and determined smile. "He'll never get the power of either."
"Does it need to go anywhere specific?" Sirius asks and my mother's smile grows fonder.
"Nowhere specific, wherever you place it will be where it's meant to be for the person who's meant to find it." My mother finally removers her hand from her journal. As Sirius takes it and moves to stand up the memories swirl and carry us away again.
When my vision clears and the next memory starts I can't hold back my gasp. Sirius is sitting with my mother on this couch—the couch Sirius and I are sitting on right now.
Except this Sirius is younger and is just beginning to grow a beard and my mother is pregnant. Like very pregnant. With me. And it's almost too much to wrap my head around so I don't try to understand. Thankfully that's when they start talking.
"So, now do you believe me?" My mother asks, rubbing her swollen stomach fondly.
"That you're about to give birth to my future soulmate any day now? Not really. I'm sure that's illegal, in fact. And despite my love of rule breaking, that's actually a brilliant one as far as I'm concerned." Sirius says with his own eye roll, but it's a facade. He's freaked out by everything Emmaleena's shown him in the last week.
"Soon you'll understand that time is an illusion not your enemy. By the time you are together, your ages will even out."
"That literally doesn't make sense, Em."
"Literally, no, I suppose not. But what exactly has been literal or sensible about anything I've told or shown you?" My mother counters back.
"Fair point, but I take offense that fate would mate me with a child."
"You'll never meet her as a child. By the time you are physically together, the Avalon waters would make you both physically and spiritually the same age."
"Why won't I meet her before then?"
"Because you will give your trust to those that will betray you and doubt the ones who would have saved you all. You'll keep confusing time as your enemy."
"That's not dramatic at all, Em."
"I don't have time to mind my tone, Sirius." My mother cuts back, arms now wrapped protectively around her stomach. Around me.
"Andrella will be born by the end of next week. I'll be captured a week after that, dead by the end of the month. " my mother states this as the facts they are. But she's smiling, rubbing her stomach again.
"You can't say that! You can easily overpower them! You have to fight!"
"I am fighting!" My mother shouts back. "I am fighting to save my daughter's life! I don't give a damn about Avalon or Merlin or King Arthur! I don't want my daughter to live in the world she will have to endure if I do not complete the trials by dying."
The memory fades abruptly and is replaced with a chaotic scene of disaster. It's a busy city street and Sirius is storming down it, laughing madly and casting curse after curse at a shriveling Peter Pettigrew. The memory jumps ahead to Sirius, who's still laughing even as he's being shackled and courted away by the aurors.
The memory blurs away and back again so quickly Sirius' maddening cackle never fades. When the scene solidifies it forms into the dreary prison cell Sirius would call his home for 12 years. But in this vision, he has only been imprisoned a few weeks. Sirius is still himself. He hadn't descended into madness or sickness.
He is, however, still barking mad. Laughing angrily. Talking to himself as he huddles in on himself for warmth. "Goddamn it, Em. I understand now. Too late, but I understand your stupid riddles. Time is the enemy I make it to be."
The fog is so dense that when it shifts and it seems like Sirius has withered to bones in a blink of an eye, it takes a minute for my mind to catch up. It must be years later now, based on how horrible Sirius looks. When the howling wind settles, I can hear him muttering to himself repeatedly, "Andrella. Harry." Over and over again.
When the fog shifts and reforms this time, I'm ready for the change. Only Sirius looks exactly the same, holding himself and rocking in the corner, a shell of the man he was. But then he suddenly shifts into Padfoot, slips through the bars and makes his escape from Azkaban.
When he jumps off the cliff, the memory shifts as we break the water's surface. It's like we're coming up out of the water instead and I realize it's because we are. We break the surface just enough to take a breath before submerging so just our eyes peak out of the water. Instead of a raging sea, it's the calmness of the lake. It's a dark and moonless night but it only takes a moment for me to realize we're submerged in the black lake, looking out to the Forbidden Forest. I follow Sirius's intense glare and find shadowy figures approaching.
It only takes the barest hint of Fred's laughter to realize the trio approaching us includes myself. George is by my side, holding my hand and smiling down at me so sincerely it hurts. I realize the growling I hear is coming from myself as much as it is from Padfoot.
We are both angry at George, but for different reasons. This is the moment Sirius realizes that his actions that lead to imprisonment sent us both down a path that leads to me in George's arms. So clearly in love. Even now, as I growl because I am angry he broke my heart, yes. But more than that I am angry I don't understand why. I don't understand my best friend and that makes him not my best friend anymore. For the first time since I met him.
Sirius tracks their ascent back to the castle and I am forced to follow. Our emotions are aligned again, in sorrow and longing, but for different people. When the memories start to fade it's another welcome shift.
I relive Sirius's and Remus' reunion with Petrigrew and Snape in the Shrieking shack. Sirius's escape on Buckbeak's back. Flash after flash of tropical beaches and wild jungles and deserts where Sirius spent most of his time as Padfoot, running and hiding from dementors.
He is Padfoot when we are once again returned to the Forbidden Forest, this time outside of Hogwarts' grounds. And it only takes me a moment to realize what memory this is when I come crashing through the sky in the form of a bloody and panicked dragon.
Then flashes of a panicked Sirius who is holding my broken, bloody human body as he races through the forest to the hospital. His anguish, guilt, and regret make his adrenaline spike, not caring who sees him as he busts through the castle doors hellbent on making it to Poppy.
I am given a small taste of what it would feel like to hold my soulmate in my arms as they die. I wonder how similar the experience would feel to George rushing me on the same path to the infirmary after Greyback attacked me earlier this year. Could they bond over this experience? Of having to do it again before the year is over?
I am so caught up in my mournful musings I miss the memory ending and the return to reality. When I finally blink, I see Sirius's eyes returning to their normal grey as the silver glow of his magic fading. He has a reserved smile that doesn't quite fit his face or his personality.
I have no filter as I ask,"Are you genuinely nervous?"
"Of course, I bloody am! Love, you've just seen my entire lifestory. There's no sugarcoating my shortcomings." He laughs a nervous laugh, this one at least is fitting, if not unwarranted.
"Sirius Black is admitting he has shortcomings?" I don't resist the easy taunt.
"You know better than most, I'm not short where it counts, don't you?" Sirius sasses back, effectively breaking through his nerves.
"Don't know, can't remember. Might need to see again. Just to be sure." I shrug my shoulders but make no effort to hide my glance down at his lap.
"Oh, of course, just to be sure." Sirius rolls his eyes and then turns to fully face me. His expression falls to deadpan and he stares silently at me until I finally turn to give him my full attention as well.
"What?" I ask when he still doesn't speak.
"Just thinking of how I can best show you in a way you will never be able to forget. Since my performance is apparently forgettable, I just have to make sure I think of something creative enough to make it memorable to every cell of your soul." Sirius says this evenly, calmly, but the sparks of silver are back in his eyes as he asks, "Do you remember your safe word?"
"Yes, Gillyweed, but—"
"Good." He says nodding once, shaking away his stoic expression. His face splits in a feral grin as he growls , "then run."
"Excuse me?"
"Run, Little Feather, run." Sirius instructs, laughing as he stares at me.
The promise of what will happen if I do has me leaping from my seat. He stays seated but his eyes never leave mine as he begins to countdown from twelve.
XXX
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I posted this two days ago originally and i see it there and then it gets deleted so we're trying again!
'ello there, lovely readers! I hope youve enjoyed this chapter. Especially those who commented on the last chapter! You honestly were the motivation for finally finishing this chapter and beginning to write the next so thank you!
I will see this story finished and I do have the ending planned. We are getting close.
Ex's and Oh's
Audrey V. Sullivan