Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

23rd March 1984 

The furious clicking of Walburga’s heels on the wooden floor echoed through the high walls of Noire House’s grand entrance hall. A shake of her heavy cloak sent a cloud of shimmering coal dust billowing in her wake as she stepped out of the great, stone fireplace. Past the ever-gleaming suits of armour she marched, trampling the worn wampus-skin rug beneath her well-heeled feet as she made her way swiftly towards the grand staircase. She was a woman on the warpath, and the several house elves she passed as they carried out their duties did well to scramble out of her way, bowing lowly from against the walls. Previous experience had taught them that there were few things less forgiving or more painful than the feet of a furious member of the family they served. 

Had the shoe been on the other foot, Walburga was likely to have winced at the crude manners of someone who did not knock and wait for permission to be admitted before entering someone’s study. But it was not. And besides, this was no time to be considerate of manners. Fuelled by the fire in her belly, she seized the brass handle of the heavy oak door to Arcturus’s study and flung it open with such fury that it swung all the way inward and collided against the wall with a crash. 

But, to Walburga’s immense irritation, her dramatic entrance went unnoticed. The room was empty - utterly devoid of its usual occupant. 

“Where the devil-?” 

“Good afternoon, Mistress Walburga. Can Hetty assist you?” 

Walburga looked down to find one of Arcturus’s house elves at her feet, bent double in a bow low enough for its pencil-like nose to skim the material of her floor-length cloak. 

“Where is he?” Walburga snapped, twitching her fur-lined cloak away from the creature. 

“Master Arcturus is out in the kennels, Mistress. He often takes the late morning to-” 

“Get out of my way” 

Walburga barged past the elf, still bent in a low bow and marched back the way she came, out of the front doors and down the gravel path which led to the kennel building across the field from the manor. 

“Utterly ridiculous” she muttered furiously to herself, pulling up her heavy, velvet hood to shelter her against the early spring spittle as she marched towards the ever-growing noise of barking crups.

Entering the kennel building, Walburga wrinkled her nose as the pungent smell of dogs hit her. A pre-marriage life spent on her parents’ sprawling estate had meant she was well used to the smells associated with country living - but that did not mean she had to like them.

Just as the elf had said, she entered the kennel block to find her father-in-law peering intently into a nearby pen containing a mother crup and her young litter. 

“Arcturus Black!” Walburga’s razor-sharp voice evoked a sharp warning bark from the mother crup, which in turn caused the wizard peering into her pen to jump in surprise.

“What the devil-?!” Arcturus’s right hand automatically reached for his wand pocket as he spun round towards the voice. His face twisted in annoyance as he laid eyes upon his daughter-in-law standing in the entry with her hands on her hips. 

“What the blazes do you think you’re playing at?!” 

“I might ask you the same question”

Arcturus sighed in frustration and turned his attention back to the pen’s occupants. The mother crup was growling suspiciously, curled protectively around her squeaking, hamster-sized offspring nestled in their bed of straw.

“If you’re here simply to spout nonsense-” 

“I am here-” Walburga marched forward to stand directly before her father-in-law, ignoring the crups that leapt at the wire doors of their pens, clamouring for her attention as she passed. “-to find out why on earth you think it appropriate to entertain my son’s ridiculous thoughts pertaining to that Potter child. And, more importantly, why you did not see fit to discuss any of this with me before involving whichever Ministry dogsbody you’ve had running about procuring information on the matter!” 

In the face of Walburga’s fury, Arcturus merely huffed, then calmly reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a small sack. He dipped his hand inside, pulled out a blue-tinged scrap of meat and threw it into the pen. It was neatly caught by the crup without even uncurling herself and swallowed whole in a second.

“Well?” Walburga pressed, furious by the lack of instant reply to her demands. “Are you not going to explain yourself? Or do you intend to simply continue standing there like some imbecilic breed of-” 

“I do not see why you bother to ask me why I did not involve you in any of these developments, when you have answered your own question perfectly well yourself this very moment” Arcturus finally snapped. “This is precisely why I did not consult you. Because I knew full well that you’d fly into an unsightly temper tantrum at the mere mention of the Potter boy, rather than pause for so much as a minute to think about what the best course of action to take might be regarding your son’s requests.” 

He paused momentarily to toss another scrap of meat into the crup pen. 

“In short, I knew you’d be of no use to me”

Arcturus’s brutal candour paused Walburga in her tracks. She stiffened, holding her breath as she processed his words. 

“I do not see how anything to do with that Potter child could possibly-” 

“Lowering your volume does not make you sound any less petulant, Walburga, be assured of that” Arcturus barked as he turned his attention back to the pen. “Now, if you are quite finished scaring my dogs, and if there is a shred of sense in any of these accusations you have interrupted my day to waste my time with, I may perhaps be willing to discuss them”

Seething, Walburga forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath.

“And you can put that away, whilst you’re at it, you’re making Vela anxious. It’s bad for her pups” 

Walburga followed Arcturus’s annoyed nod down to her right hand, in which she held in a white-knuckled grip the wand she couldn’t remember drawing. 

“It’s no wonder that boy of yours never did learn to keep a grip on his temper,” Arcturus shook his head as Walburga shoved her wand back inside her skirt pocket. “Given the example set by his own mother” 

He tossed the crup another, larger scrap of meat from the pouch and nodded approvingly as the dog ripped at it viciously before swallowing it down - quite the display of ferociousness whilst still curled tight around her offspring.

“If I wish to hear your opinions on my parenting skills I shall be sure to ask for them” Walburga attempting to hide her growing annoyance at having to compete with the creature in the pen for Arcturus’s attention. “What I did come here for is your explanation for all this nonsense” 

“Nonsense, is it?” Arcturus huffed, not bothering to look round at Walburga. He was far too busy peering closely at the litter of pups before him, his eyes scanning across each individual blob of wriggling fur. “You’ve quite some nerve, criticising my methods, when it was you yourself that asked for my help in the first place” 

“I did not ask for this!”

“Didn’t you? By my recollection, you sat before me, a little over two weeks ago, asking me to help you clear your son’s name and have him restored as my heir” 

“And by my recollection, I do not recall ever asking you to involve that halfblood scum at any point!” 

“The one on the far left, I think…” 

Her father-in-law’s curious comment threw Walburga off-guard. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“That one, the one on the end there” Arcturus pointed a gnarled finger over the wall of the pen and at the largest of the litter of cruppies. “It looks the most promising of the lot. Bigger than the rest. See there? Fighting its way past the others for the best feeding spot. Shoe-in for pick of the litter, I’d say” 

Walburga felt herself simmering. 

“I did not come here to discuss your dogs!”

“No, but you did come here -unannounced, I might add - and interrupted my time with my dogs. So do forgive me if my attention is somewhat divided” 

Walburga practically trembled, but was undeterred. 

“If your dedication to the matter of this family’s future is so fleeting, it’s no wonder you’ve been foolish enough to allow Sirius to imagine a future involving that halfblood brat”

Arcturus sighed and, at last, turned to face his daughter-in-law.

“Lord have mercy, woman, would you quiet yourself for one moment and just think? The boy has thus far refused to cooperate in the slightest with any of the plans we have laid out for him. His desire for information on the Potter child is the first thing he’s shown the slightest interest in since the day he recovered from his illness - besides returning to Azkaban to die that is”

A cold shiver ran down Walburga’s spine at the memory of Azkaban. Of the sight of Sirius - of her son - wasted away and half-dead on the cold stone floor of that prison cell. 

“Sirius will not be returning to Azkaban” she declared firmly, her chin raised. “I will not allow it” 

“If we cannot persuade him to support his own right to freedom in court - his own right to life -  then back to Azkaban is precisely where he’s going, whether you allow it or not” 

Arcturus’s voice was curiously devoid of its previous sharpness. For one moment his eyes met Walburga’s, iron-grey meeting silver, just long enough to pick up the well-hidden flicker of fear which simmered behind their owner’s furious determination before she broke away to glare daggers down at the mother crup in the pen, who offered her a warning snarl in return.

“But surely there are far more sensible routes to pursue” Walburga, though quietened, would not be deterred. 

“And what exactly do you suggest, hmm?” Arcturus asked. “Don’t be a fool, woman. You’ve seen as clear as I how that boy has behaved since he was brought home. He is stubborn, sulky, ungrateful, utterly impossible to hold a civil conversation with-”

“Do get to the point”

“-until he began to talk about the Potter boy. Why, he actually managed a reasonably respectful tone when he first asked for my help with the matter”

Walburga pursed her lips, privately wondering when this meeting that she had not been included in had taken place - within her own house, to boot.

“Goodness” she remarked, her tone clipped. “Fancy that” 

“Indeed, it was quite the performance. As was the sight of him working on the study task I set for him yesterday - properly this time. And do you know how I achieved it? By agreeing to continue to search for more information on the Potter child”

For goodness sake!” Walburga snapped loudly, earning herself another snarl from the mother crup, who only quieted when Arcturus tossed her another meat scrap. “This is absurd! It was one thing to even entertain the notion of allowing him to pursue this interest, but if we allow it to continue, where will it end? Will you have that Potter scum brought into our home? Have him live amongst us?”

“Now who’s being absurd?” Arcturus rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a fool Walburga, it won’t come to that” 

“Can you be so sure? Sirius won’t be satisfied until it does. How far will you let this go on for, exactly? Will you drive him into the courtroom using the brat as a cattle prod?” 

Arcturus frowned. “A what?”

“Never mind” Walburga brushed him off, reluctant to waylay the conversation with talk of the muggle instrument which Alphard had once spoken of many years ago. It was curious, the things one remembers at the most absurd of moments. “But you must see my point. This folly can only go so far” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Arcturus finally snapped. Walburga noted that the dog in the pen did not snarl at her father-in-law’s tone the way it had at her, but then again, she wasn’t the one holding the bag of scraps that the creature’s sharp eyes were fixed upon. “I agree, the situation is far from ideal. But we have to face the fact of our situation”

“And what fact might that be, exactly?”

“The fact that we were wrong” Arcturus’s voice practically growled with frustration, which he took out on the chunk of meat he tore in his hands before tossing it to the crup’s slathering jaws. “Azkaban has not broken the boy as we had expected. He’s just as insolent as he ever was. And if three years surrounded by Dementors wasn’t enough to break him, then we’re going to need something valuable to encourage him round to our desires for him”

“And you’ve decided that something must be the Potter brat” 

“Your son decided that well enough for us. I dislike the idea as much as you do. However, given that it is currently the only hold we have over Sirius, it would be foolish not to ensure it is used to our advantage. I too would rather have nothing to do with a Potter. Unfortunately, the boy has left us with no choice but to seize whatever opportunity we have to keep his mind on the wider aim. And if we have to indulge his interest in the Potter child to keep hold of his attention then, for now, at least, that is what we have to do. Sometimes, if one wants to achieve one’s aims-”

Arcturus rummaged into the little pouch of scraps again. His whole hand disappeared inside - clearly an extension charm had been placed on it. He withdrew what appeared to be a femur, grey in colour with chunks of the same blue-tinged scraps still clinging to it. In the pen, the crup sat up tall and attentive, her attention taken over fully from her litter to the bone in Arcturus’s hand. A pink tongue darted out to lick her lips.

Arcturus’s mouth curled into the slightest of smirks. 

“-one simply has to throw a dog a bone”

He tossed the femur into the pen. The crup abandoned her young instantly and had the bone clamped in her jaws in the space of one, neat leap before it had a chance to clatter across the floor.

Walburga resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the sounds of the crup furiously ripping the meat from the bone mingled with the barking from the other pens which already filled the air.

“So, just how long do you intend to let this go on for, exactly?” She repeated her question quietly, the former demanding tone of her voice quelled by what she couldn’t deny was Arcturus’s sensible reasoning. 

“As long as it takes for your son to see sense and give up this nonsense of returning to Azkaban” Arcturus replied, his tone short and final. “And in the meantime, if he is at last content to attend to matters of family affairs, then I suggest you ensure you play your part in keeping him focused on the task I have set him”

Walburga shook her head as memories of endless arguments with her son over half-finished childhood schoolroom projects and abandoned attempts to master several artistic hobbies raced through her mind’s eye. Regardless of how intense his initial enthusiasm always was, at the first sign of difficulty, Sirius would toss down the offending endeavour with the simple argument that he was bored of it, and would be convinced by no one to pick it up again. 

“Sirius Orion has never been one easily persuaded to stick to a task he is set once he has decided he is tired of it” 

“I doubt this particular task is one which the boy is likely to tire of anytime soon” Arcturus replied. “His interest in the Potter child really was quite something. I confess, I was taken aback by his ability to give that much of a damn about anyone besides himself”

Walburga frowned. Deep down, she knew she ought to be glad that something - even if it was some halfblood runt - had brought her son at least part way out of the fatalistic fug he had been trapped in since his return, but she still could not bring herself to approve of Arcturus’s plan. This all felt far too risky. It had not been a part of her plan for her family - for her son. 

But then, Walburga Black was no stranger to her elder son being led astray by a Potter. 

The rush of warmth which washed over Walburga as she stepped out of the fireplace and into the library of Grimmauld Place never failed to be the perfect ‘welcome home’ on a dull, drizzly day such as this. It was one of the reasons Walburga insisted that the house elf ensure that the fireplaces were always well-stoked, ensuring that the high-ceilinged rooms were always kept suitably toasty, even once the winter was well and truly behind them. 

Of course, such intense warmth wasn’t always appreciated by everyone, and least of all by one particular person. Namely, the young man who now sat at the desk across the room. He sat hunched low over his work and, as the crackles of the bright green Floo fire fizzled away, the silence which hung over the room was broken only by the steady scratching of Sirius’s quill against the parchment of the logbook he was copying into. 

Her son did not raise his head nor look around to acknowledge that he was aware of Walburga’s presence. Perhaps he hadn’t, such was his concentration on his work. Either way, Walburga seized the opportunity to simply stand for a moment and observe the sight which she had, just a few weeks prior, had scarcely been able to imagine in her wildest dreams. The sight of her son hard at work, fully engaged and focused on family matters for the first time. 

She smiled triumphantly. What a pleasing sight it was, too. She considered that perhaps there was something to be said about Arcturus’s methods after all. Not that she would ever be able to admit as much to the man himself.

“Are you just going to stand there all day?” 

Even as he spoke, Sirius’s attention remained firmly fixed on his work. 

Walburga found she didn’t mind. 

“How long have you been working?” she asked as she strode across the room to stand beside the desk. Two large, leather-bound ledgers were spread across the oak worktop; one clearly older and the other a far newer version. Walburga watched Sirius’s head turn back and forth as he copied the information from the old ledger to the new. 

“An hour or two? Not sure” Sirius muttered vaguely as his eyes flickered back and forth across the pages. 

Walburga glanced at the grandfather clock ticking away against the opposite wall. Eleven o’clock. Nearly four hours since breakfast. 

“You must be getting peckish. I’ll have the elf bring-”

“Not hungry” 

Walburga forced down her urge to insist. 

“Tea, then” She offered instead.  “I’ll send for some tea”

“No, thanks” 

“Or coffee, perhaps? It is a little late in the morning but it’s not too-”

“Will you give it a rest?!” Sirius swung round in his chair to shoot an annoyed look at his mother. He paused, suddenly, and sighed, catching himself. “Look, I don’t want anything, alright? I just want to get this done” 

“Very well,” Walburga replied, stiffly.

Sirius paused, as though expecting her to say something more, before slowly turning back to his work. 

Walburga observed him again for a moment, the scratching of the quill piercing the otherwise tense silence.

“I must say, it is pleasing to see you apply yourself to a proper task”

There was an ever so slight pause in the flow of Sirius’s writing.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m doing it out of choice” he murmured. 

“Oh? Has your grandfather placed you under the Imperius Curse without my knowing?” 

Sirius sighed, tossing his head to the ceiling.

“I didn’t mean it literally. I just… don’t actually care about any of this rubbish. I’m doing it for Harry, that’s all” 

Walburga wrinkled her nose - an almost automatic reflex at the mention of that name. 

“The halfblood boy…”

“Yes, the halfblood boy” Sirius snapped, his temper flaring. He twisted round in his seat again, his eyes alight and challenging as he glared up at his mother. “Got a problem with that, have you?” 

Walburga forced herself to breathe through the urge to berate her son for his attitude. Of course he was baiting her, spoiling for a fight, as he so often did. But she forced herself to remain composed, though not able to entirely back down.

“You know full well my views on such matters” She kept her voice forcibly stiff. “On the family’s views of such matters”

“That only so-called purebloods are fit to tread God’s green earth and everyone else may as well be nogtail swill?” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty familiar with your views, thanks” 

Walburga frowned. 

“You talk so high and mighty, as though our beliefs weren’t also your own - once upon a time” 

Sirius slammed down his quill and turned fully in his chair to face her. 

“I was a child!” 

“A child who excelled in his lessons on such matters before he went to school. You were always so clever…” Walburga’s voice drifted off fondly as she tapped her wand on the desktop and vanished the splatter of ink Sirius’s rough handling of his quill had left on the woodwork. 

Sirius’s expression darkened. 

“I wouldn’t call parroting propaganda shoved down my throat by some bigoted tutor intelligence. At least Hogwarts taught me things worth knowing”

“Of course, I blame that school entirely for the way things turned out” Walburga seemed oblivious to the fact that Sirius had spoken, shaking her head disapprovingly. "We had no such nonsense from you until you arrived home after your first year. Your utterly ridiculous sorting-”

“Come on, now you really are clutching at straws” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Even you can’t blame everything on the fact that my school robes crest had a lion on it instead of a snake. Give me some credit at least for knowing my own mind”

“You are a Black!” Walburga seethed bitterly, her nostrils flaring. “You ought to have been placed in Slytherin, there should have been no doubt about it!”

“It wouldn’t have made the slightest difference” Sirius’s tone was staunchly defiant.

 “I disagree. If you’d only been kept amongst your own kind… with other boys from decent, proper families-”

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, the pureblood Slytherin posse. Good upstanding little angels, the lot of them” 

“-instead of mixing with all the wrong sorts… Mudbloods and blood traitors-” 

“My friends” 

“That dreadful Potter boy-” 

This was the final straw for Sirius. He jumped to his feet, flinging his chair aside and facing his mother square on.

“Don’t you dare talk about James like that” he seethed. “Don’t you dare”

Walburga was taken aback, alarmed at the dangerous look on her son’s face. Sirius stared her straight in the eye, his steely gaze sharp and threatening, like a dog poised to pounce for the kill. She had never seen him so angry.

It was unnerving.

“We… ought not to quarrel” she bit out finally, turning away. “It won’t do us any good” 

Clearly taken aback by his mother’s reaction, Sirius stood down. His shoulders relaxed and his glare softened, though something about him still seemed on edge, as though he expected her to yet be planning to trick him somehow. 

With a weary sigh, Sirius walked past Walburga and flopped himself down into one of the sofas by the fireplace. He sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“Just… don’t talk that way about James again” he said, quietly, not looking up at his mother. “Please” 

Walburga considered her son. It was quite remarkable, the effect the mention of the Potter boy had on him. It always had been. 

“Your loyalty to him is… admirable” 

She couldn’t quite believe the words which came out of her mouth. 

Nor, judging by his reaction, could Sirius. 

“He was my friend,” Sirius said quietly, his eyes flickering up toward his mother before resuming their staring into the flames of the fire. “My best friend” 

“You need hardly remind me,” Walburga perched herself stiffly on the edge of the seat opposite. “He was all you talked of, that summer after your first year. Nor the summers after that, come to think of it. All those hours holed up in your bedroom, writing endless letters. It wasn’t good for you” 

Sirius snorted.

“On the contrary, it was all that kept me sane, stuck in this house all summer with you lot”

“Yes, well,” Walburga sniffed indignantly. “I often wonder why we allowed it in the first place. We really ought to have confiscated your owl”

“But you didn’t” 

Walburga pressed her lips into a thin line. 

“No,” she conceded. “We didn’t”

Their eyes met, if only for a brief moment.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway” said Sirius, staring back into the fire. “James and I had other ways of communicating”

“Like what?” Walburga demanded, alarmed.

“None of your business” 

“If it was going on under my roof it most certainly is my business!” 

“Well it’s not as if it matters now anyway, does it?” Sirius all but snapped. “The point is, it doesn’t matter what you’d have done, you’d never have been able to keep us apart for long, once we’d have gone back to school, so it's just as well you didn’t bother trying” 

Walburga cringed internally at the memories of Sirius’s long-ago school days; the seemingly endless stream of owls from Sirius’s Head of House, each with a different tale of wrongdoings. Endless disgraceful reports of rule-breaking and mischief-making… each and every one bearing the name James Potter beside Sirius’s own, declaring the pair as joint culprits, each as guilty as the other. Walburga could not recall a single letter regarding her son which did not also bear the name of the blood traitor Potter. She recalled how it had seemed as though the two boys were scarcely ever apart. It had seemed… unhealthy. 

“The two of you were very close…” 

“Yeah, we were” 

“Very… fond of each other” 

Sirius’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Where exactly are you going with this?”

Walburga’s hands gripped each other tightly in her lap, her knuckles whitening with effort. Part of her didn’t want to ask, but never before had she had the opportunity. And the thought had lingered uncomfortably in the back of her mind for so long. 

“This… fondness, for each other. It never-? That is to say, you never-?”

“What on earth are you going on about?” Sirius was clearly growing impatient.

 Walburga was becoming frustrated with herself as she searched for the right words. 

“Did you and he ever develop… feelings for one another?”

Sirius’s eyes widened in realisation. 

“Are you trying to ask if James and I ever fancied each other?” 

Walburga’s eyes darted about the floor uneasily as her cheeks flushed. The fire was suddenly beginning to feel slightly stuffy after all.

“If you will insist on putting it like that, then yes, that is what I am asking” she muttered, glaring furiously down at the rug. 

Her eyes darted back upward, however, as a loud, bark-like laugh suddenly rang throughout the room. 

“What on earth is so funny?” Walburga scowled at her cackling son. 

“You really thought that James and I-?” Sirius struggled to get his words out through his laughter. “You honestly thought that we-?” 

“I did not think it!” Walburga shrieked. “It had… crossed my mind, yes, but I’d hoped it was merely a nonsensical thought”

“Well we weren’t, so you can sleep easily again now. Lily was always the only one for James. But so what if we were?” Sirius had regained control of himself and was now peering critically at his mother, an amused smirk still set upon his face. “Would that really have been such a terrible thing?” 

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Walburga snapped. With the answer to her question procured, she was keen to move on from this most uncomfortable topic as quickly as possible. 

“No, really” Sirius persisted, the amusement quickly draining from his voice. “Suppose me and James were a thing. So what?” 

“You know what,” Walburga snapped again. She was very quickly regretting bringing up the subject at all.  

“No, I don’t, as it goes” Sirius sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Do enlighten me” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” 

“No” 

Walburga sighed, exasperated. 

“You are the heir-”

“-were the heir” 

Walburga gritted her teeth. 

“Your first duty is to this family. To uphold hundreds of years of Black family tradition and legacy, like your ancestors before you-” 

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard this same speech about a thousand times since I could understand coherent speech. Do get to the point” 

“-by marrying and producing children. The future of this house - of the purity of magical blood - is cemented by siring offspring to ensure our proud lineage lives on. I’m sure I don’t need to outline to you how such an… arrangement… would make that quite impossible”

Sirius’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. 

“You’re not wrong there I’ll admit, biologically-speaking, anyway” he conceded. “But in any case, as far as I’m concerned, the fewer descendants there are to continue this oh-so-proud bloodline, the better” 

“You don’t truly mean that” Walburga declared, frowning with disapproval. 

“Of course I do” Sirius replied firmly. “Why would I say something I didn’t mean?” 

Walburga arched an eyebrow.

“So I am to believe that the declaration you once made that you would rather drink a goblet of flobberworm mucus than kiss your grandmother goodnight was God's honest truth?” 

“Oh come on, I was eight!” Sirius argued. “And Granny Irma used to stink of fags” 

“My point in case being that sometimes, one does say things one does not always mean” As she spoke, Walburga made a mental note to ensure she applied a thorough perfuming charm to herself after her nightly cigarette that evening. 

“Like when you said you’d rather I were dead than a blood traitor?” 

Walburga suddenly felt as cold as her son’s sudden change of tone. An icy feeling ran down her spine as the memory of her words, shouted so harshly across the room in the heat of the moment, rang through her ears for the first time since they were spoken, eight years ago, the night before she’d found her eldest son’s bed empty beneath a flung open window. 

“As I said,” she said, quietly. “One does not… always mean precisely what one says”

The crackling of the blazing fire between the two opposing chairs filled the room, the glare of its dancing flames hiding the matching sets of silver eyes which each tried, and failed, to meet each other at the same second.

“Yes, well” Sirius cleared his throat, awkwardly. “This isn’t one of those times. I won’t ever be marrying, or having kids, so I think we can consider that debate closed” 

“You don’t truly-” 

“How can I possibly make this any clearer?” Sirius sighed, exasperated. “I can’t think of anything I’d like less than to inflict the Black name on some poor child. The thought alone of forcing any poor kid to be part of this family is enough reason not to have any” 

“So you will simply make do with the Potter child instead?” 

Sirius paused for a moment, considering, before finally replying.

“I think the one thing we can both agree on regarding this matter is that this house is no place for Harry” 

“That is true enough,” Walburga replied drily. “Then I am even more perplexed as to why you feel so strongly about disturbing him where he is. He is settled and living with his family, is he not?”

“Those people are not family” Sirius spat, grimacing as though there were a bad taste in his mouth. “Those people - Lily’s sister and her husband, they’re absolutely vile” 

“You’ve met them, I suppose? These… relatives” Walburga tried to mask at least some of her distaste at the thought of her son socialising with muggles. 

“No. But I’ve heard enough about them from James and Lily to know”

“Well, regardless of your opinions on the matter, the boy has been with them for several years already and is no doubt settled” Walburga persisted, undeterred by the certainty in Sirius’s voice. “It seems foolish to upheave him now, surely. And besides, even disregarding your current status as an assumed mass-murderer, it isn’t as though you have any real claim over the boy” 

“I do, actually. I’m his godfather,” Sirius declared. 

Walburga stared, wide-eyed.

“His- godfather?”

Sirius frowned.

“There’s no need to sound quite so shocked”

“I am shocked! That anyone would deem you an appropriate candidate for the religious and moral guardianship of a child is rather ridiculous” 

“Funny, that” Sirius snorted, folding his arms across his chest in a surly manner. “Arcturus said pretty much the same thing” 

“Your grandfather knows this, too?” Walburga was indignant at being the last to know yet another vital piece of information. 

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” replied Sirius, his tone snippy. “And quite frankly I’m insulted that you both find the idea so unbelievable” 

“Well really, you were hardly the most diligent in your religious studies-”

“-Then perhaps you ought to have employed a more engaging tutor”

“-to say nothing of your antics in Mass”

Walburga fought the urge to visibly cringe at the memory of the spectacle her son had made of himself during his early years, practically every Sunday without fail, until he grew old enough to flat-out refuse to attend any more services when he was fourteen. Just another item on the long list of things Walburga blamed on Hogwarts and the terrible example her son was being set there. 

Sirius shrugged.

“It was dull. I was bored. What did you expect?” 

“I expected you to sit quietly and listen to what was being said. I’d have thought that would have been obvious”

“Maybe if the priest had had something worth hearing to say, I might have been more interested in listening to it” Sirius tossed his head as though putting on a deliberate show of apparent boredom with the topic. “He wasn’t worth listening to”

“Your personal opinions on a priest are of little importance. What is important is that you attended, listened and learned-” 

“Oh yeah? Paid old Father Byrne many visits recently yourself then, have you?” 

Walburga’s nostrils flared in annoyance. 

“That- is besides the point”

“Of course it is,” Sirius snorted, shaking his head. “Anyway, there’s more to being a godparent than just religion”

Walburga peered at her son. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s about caring. About looking out for him in the case of-” Sirius’s voice faltered for a moment. “-in case of the parents not being able to” 

“Something you’ve certainly made a fine job of doing thus far” 

The pallor which immediately swept across her son’s face made Walburga regret her words, or at least made her wish she had chosen a rather less sarcastic approach, because Sirius suddenly looked rather ill. 

“I know,” he replied, quietly, his voice curiously and tragically devoid of any argument or defence. “I’ve failed him. I couldn’t have done a worse job of protecting him. But that’s why I need to make up for it now. I need to make sure Harry is safe, that he’s cared for. Happy. I don’t exactly know how or what that would mean yet, but it’s something I’ve realised I have to do”

“Even if…” Walburga’s words trailed off hesitantly. 

“Even if what?” Sirius’s attention piqued at his mother’s uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Even if it means not returning to Azkaban?” 

There was a heavy pause between the mother and son as Sirius processed the question put to him. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, honestly. His hands fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, his foot tapped restlessly against the floor. “I don’t know what any of this means. Not yet. I need Arcturus to find out some more details first. The Ministry is bound to be keeping a close eye on Harry, there must be more information in there about how he’s actually doing”

Walburga’s heart soared. It was the first time she had heard Sirius suggest the idea that he was no longer entirely committed to returning to Azkaban. Far from the level of commitment which would be needed to win his upcoming trial, but for now, his interest in the halfblood child had proven (rather annoyingly) as effective as Arcturus had suggested it would. 

“Well, then” Walburga got to her feet and brushed down her skirts briskly. “I doubt your grandfather will be too pleased to find your tasks unfinished when he arrives for dinner tonight, hopefully with more news. You ought to resume your work”

“Which is exactly what I was doing before you decided to interrupt me” Sirius mumbled, but sloped back to his desk regardless, stretching his arms above his head as he leaned back in the ornately-carved but rigid chair. 

“The sooner you begin, the sooner you’ll be finished” Walburga seemed, or rather had chosen, not to hear her son’s remark. She nodded approvingly as he picked up his quill and dipped it into the inkwell. “Now, should I send up some tea and a light snack? It’s too early yet for luncheon but you really ought not to work on an empty stomach” 

Sirius considered. 

“Fine, go on, then” he conceded. “I could manage something, I suppose” 

Walburga beamed triumphantly from behind Sirius as she watched his quill begin to scratch away at the logbook. Before taking her leave, she reached out a hand and gave her son’s shoulder a light squeeze and, to her immense pleasure, he did not shrug away. 

“Sirius, stop that” 

His mother’s reprimand dragged Sirius’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the candlelit Grimmauld Place dining room. Without the noise of his racing thoughts filling his ears, he finally noticed the frantic tapping of his own foot against the floor which punctured the otherwise silence of the room. 

Without replying, he reluctantly forced his foot to be still and focused instead on the generous helping of roast duck which sat on his plate, half-finished and entirely unappealing. 

“You ought to finish that” Walburga nodded disapprovingly towards Sirius’s plate as he half-heartedly slid a piece of potato around the plate with his fork.

“Give me half a chance, would you? We’ve only been sat down for about ten minutes” 

“Did you forget how to read a clock in Azkaban?” came the gruff bark of Arcturus from the head of the table. “It’s been half an hour” 

Sirius glanced at the ornate grandfather clock resting against the opposite wall which, most annoyingly, confirmed that it was indeed half-past eight, and that Arcturus was very much correct. The empty plates of both his mother and grandfather further spoke for themselves.

“Whatever” he muttered, reluctantly stabbing a chunk of duck breast onto his fork and shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. He didn’t need to look across at his mother to know that she was frowning at him. 

“Since whatever it was that you were so deeply buried in thought about is clearly far more interesting than our company, perhaps you might feel inclined to share it?” Arcturus sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his lap expectantly. 

“Not particularly,” Sirius replied through a hurried mouthful of potato. The sooner this damned meal was over, the better. 

“Sirius!” Walburga scolded. 

“What?” Sirius retorted, swallowing his food before quickly cramming another forkful into his mouth. “Am I not allowed to think in private now?”

“That would depend on the subject of those thoughts,” said Arcturus. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you were pondering your findings from the work I set for you yesterday?” 

Sirius stared at his grandfather suspiciously. 

“I might have been” 

“Then I cannot imagine why you would not wish to share those thoughts with me. Please, do enlighten me with your newfound knowledge” 

“Why should I?” Sirius tossed down his knife and fork onto his now-empty plate. The harsh clattering of silver on china made Walburga visibly cringe. “What’s in it for me?” 

Arcturus’s amusement faded from his face. 

“You know full well what’s in it for you” 

Sirius’s ears perked up in interest.

“Oh yes? Got some new information for me, do you?” Without bothering to wait for a reply, Sirius scraped his chair backwards, rumpling the handwoven rug beneath it, and jumped to his feet. 

“And just where do you think you’re going?” asked Arcturus as Sirius strode past him on his way to the door. 

“Drawing room. Traditionally the perfect spot for after-dinner conversation, isn’t it? Besides, I fancy a brandy” 

Arcturus and Walburga shared a silent look of mutual suspicious curiosity as they rose from their seats and followed Sirius to the drawing room, where they found him already pouring himself a generous measure of brandy from a crystal carafe. 

None of the three Blacks neither noticed nor would have cared about the confused house elf peeping through the doorway into the abandoned dining room they had left in their wake, pondering what he was supposed to do with the elegant trifle he had prepared.

“So,” Sirius practically slammed the bottle back onto the side table, making his mother wince. He strode over to an armchair by the fire and all but flopped down onto it. He stared up at Arcturus expectantly. “What’s the latest?” 

“Latest?” Arcturus’s gaze drifted lazily about the room. “I say, where’s that elf of yours gotten to, Walburga?”

“Kreacher!” 

At the sharp call of his mistress, Kreacher appeared before them within a second with a loud CRACK. 

“Fetch me some water” Arcturus barked at the elf, who bowed lowly before looking up at Walburga. His mistress raised a hand to decline a beverage of her own.

“Just bring the water,” ordered Walburga, her eyes locked carefully onto her son. Sirius could feel them searing into him with the sting of an ice burn, clearly attempting to plot his every move before he revealed it.

“Right away, mistress, right away…” 

Kreacher’s beady eyes flickered distastefully in the direction of Sirius for a moment and, spotting the glass already in his hand, did not bother to ask if Sirius required anything himself before disappearing with another loud CRACK.

“Not indulging tonight, are you?” Sirius remarked to his grandfather as he swilled the amber liquid about within its glass before taking a generous swig.

“I’ve rather a headache, if you must know,” Arcturus replied as he massaged the bridge of his nose. 

“Long day at the Ministry, was it?” 

“I was not at the Ministry today” 

Sirius paused, his glass still held aloft, his eyes narrowing. 

“What?” 

“Pardon” Walburga’s sharp correction went unheard. 

“I said, I was not at the Ministry today. Have you got doxy dung in your ears, boy?”

“I heard what you said,” Sirius snapped. He slammed his glass down on the side table rather too forcefully, all trace of his previous mischief gone. “Why weren’t you there?”

Another loud CRACK left Sirius forced to wait for an answer whilst Kreacher served his grandfather his beverage from a silver platter. Only once the elf had taken his leave and Arcturus had emptied his crystal goblet of water did the elder wizard see fit to provide Sirius with a reply.

“Do you think I have nothing better to do than waste my time loitering around government offices, boy?” Arcturus asked, lightly, as he set about vanishing his empty goblet with a tap of his wand.

“Not really, no. Not when you’re supposed to be looking for information on Harry, at least!” 

Arcturus gave an amused huff.

“Tell me, are you under the assumption that I can just go rifling through the Department of Law Enforcement’s cabinets of an afternoon?” 

“Well, no, but-” 

“Then what is it you suppose I’d have to do all day at the Ministry?” 

“Alright, alright!” Sirius snapped with a roll of his eyes. “I get it, Arcturus Black did not spend his afternoon at the Ministry of Magic, message received loud and clear. So what’s the latest news, then?”

“There isn’t any” 

Sirius’s face dropped. 

“What the hell do you mean, ‘there isn’t any’?!”

“I mean,” Arcturus spoke deliberately slowly and clearly, in a manner which made Sirius’s nostrils flare with annoyance. “There is no information I am able to impart of which you are not already aware. Do explain to me which part of that statement you are struggling to understand”

“Enough with the sarcasm!” Sirius exploded with frustration, leaping to his feet. “So what exactly has whichever poor sod you’ve bribed into doing your dirty work for you been doing all day if you’ve shown up here with nothing useful to say?”

“Sirius!” Walburga’s voice was shrill, though went ignored. “Do not take that tone with your grandfather!” 

“His job, no doubt” Arcturus was unphased by his grandson’s insolence. “That is what he is employed to do, of course”

Sirius doused the growl lingering in the back of his throat with a generous mouthful of brandy. He grimaced. It didn’t taste quite as nice when it was gulped in annoyance.

“Look, if you’re not going to behave seriously-” 

Ha!” Arcturus laughed coldly. “A rich remark if ever I heard one”

“We had a deal!” Sirius waved his hands in frustration. “You said-” 

“I said,” Arcturus’s voice sharpened. “That I would attempt to procure information on the Potter boy. I gave no guarantee of success, or how long it would take”

“You found out where he’s living fast enough” 

“By pure chance, and only the correct county. Were you under the impression that I’d have obtained a stack of parchment outlining every detail of the boy’s life over the past three years to set before you in just a few days? These things take time” 

“I haven’t got time!” 

“That is enough!” Walburga snapped as Sirius slammed his now almost-empty glass down on the nearest surface, spilling it further. “Sirius Orion, if you cannot behave sensibly, I’ll-” 

“You’ll what?” Sirius rounded on his mother. “Send me to my room? Ground me? When are you going to get it into your head that I’m not a child anymore?” 

“When you stop acting like one” Walburga spat, icily. “Now if you ask my opinion-”

“I didn't” 

“-Then I’d say this was a ridiculous endeavour we ought not to have started” Walburga paused, and grimaced in a way which suggested she’d just swallowed a particularly large pebble. “But, your grandfather deems it a task worth pursuing. And I will admit, he has… convinced me of the merits of this endeavour.” 

Arcturus huffed a laugh. 

“Walburga Black, admitting an error. Will wonders never cease?” 

Even Sirius’s look of petulant fury was mingled with a hint of surprise. 

“Do not get used to it” Walburga shot a warning glare at her father-in-law before returning her attention to her son. “But, if your grandfather is willing to go to such lengths on your behalf, Sirius Orion, then you will treat him with respect” 

“What ‘such lengths’ are you referring to, exactly?” Much to his mother’s visible annoyance, Sirius remained very much defiant. “I’ll bet all he’s done is sling a bag of gold at some poor young Ministry scrap who went scuttling off to the record-office and brought him exactly what he wanted without him lifting so much as a finger. Am I wrong?” 

Arcturus’s expression twisted.

“I wouldn’t quite describe it as-”

“I’m right, then. I thought as much” Sirius marched across the room to stand directly before Arcturus, bearing down on him demandingly. “So, get on with it and sling a few more bags his way and get me the information I need!” 

“Enough!” 

Arcturus slammed his walking cane down hard against the floor. Angry red sparks shot out of the base and across the carpet, audibly fizzling out around Sirius’s feet as he jumped, startled. Taking advantage of the younger wizard’s momentary silence, Arcturus seized Sirius’s chin in a vice-like grip, jerking his eyeline to meet his own.

“I’ve had quite enough of your petulant demands for one night, you spoiled, impudent little whelp” The elder wizard’s voice was dangerously low and controlled. “Now, regain control of your senses at once in your life and think. This topic is of an extremely sensitive nature. Information on this boy is not going to be left lying around for anyone to come across by chance. And if the wrong noses go poking into our business and discover that we’ve been making enquiries about such a valuable-”

“Harry is not valuable!” Sirius wrenched himself free of Arcturus’s grip, shaking his head in an almost canine manner. “He is a child, a possession, a child! A child who needs love and protection. A child who needs-”

“A child who needs what? You?” 

Sirius paused, as though momentarily taken aback by the question. He quickly regained himself and forced his shoulders back, lifting his head high. 

“As his godfather, yes, me. And if you won’t help me find out what I need to know-” 

“That is not the situation-” 

“-Then I’ll just have to do it myself”

“Oh for goodness sake, Sirius, don’t be so ridiculous!” Walburga’s exasperated shrill earned her a glare from her son. “This house is under Ministry enchantments specifically intended to prevent you from leaving, you know full well that leaving this house is quite impossible”

Sirius dragged a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing restlessly. 

“There’s bound to be some way around it. And I will fine it”

“There is none, of that I can assure you” Walburga retorted. “Even without those Ministry fools adding their own enchantments, this house’s security is second-to-none” 

“Yeah?” Sirius snorted, still pacing. “I’ve heard that said before. It didn’t stop me then and it won’t stop me now. I will find a way out of here, and then-”

“And then, what?” Arcturus stood before Sirius to block his path. “You’ll go gallivanting off into the night? Sniff your way around every street in all of Surrey until you find the right house?”

“If that’s what I have to do” The look Sirius wore was one of solid determination, in proud defiance of the tiny voice in his own head which told him his plan was wild at best.

Arcturus gave his temple a vicious rub.

"Salazar have mercy, boy, will you just think? If you go running after that boy at the first opportunity, it will simply confirm your guilt for all to see once and for all. They will drag you back to Azkaban that very same day and there will be nothing neither I nor your mother can do to prevent it. What will it take for you to see sense?"

"I am seeing sense!" Sirius shouted, all attempt to reign in his surging temper thrown to the wind. "For the first time God only knows how long, I am actually seeing sense. James and Lily are dead because of me. That is a fact. It’s all my fault, and if I cannot dedicate my life to trying to make that up to their son then there’s no point in me still being alive at all. I may as well just die!"

Sirius heard the slap before he felt its sharp sting set the skin of his cheek aflame. His head was flung sideways with the surprising force of the blow his grandfather dealt him. He gasped, his ears ringing with the deafening sound of his own shock, blocking out the furious shouts he could hear coming from his mother, filtering through his ears as if he were under water. 

Regaining his senses, Sirius lifted a shaky hand to feel the side of his face. The skin was still warm and tingling, and he winced as his fingers located what felt like the promise of a rather impressive bruise in the corner of his eye where Arcturus’s heavy golden ring had caught him. 

“How dare you!” Walburga’s viscous, seething voice had Sirius wincing anew as it hit his ears. He glanced round to find his mother rounding on Arcturus with her wand brandished and her teeth bared like a tiger poised to attack. “How dare you strike him!”

“It was long-past time someone did” 

Taking advantage of his grandson’s stunned state, Arcturus leaned forward and grabbed Sirius by the neck of his robes, ignoring Sirius's automatic flinch as he raised his hand, and forced him to stare directly at him. 

“Get your hands off-” 

With reflexes which far defied his age, Arcturus thumped his cane hard against the floor again and emitted a spell of force which held Walburga back as she attempted to brandish her wand at him. He did not take his eyes off of Sirius. 

"Don't you dare talk so callously of such things" Arcturus growled dangerously. "I will not stand to hear you talk so casually of death, as though it were an easy escape you can simply choose. Do you hear me, boy? I won't have it!"

"Why not?" Sirius asked, his voice low, broken. "What does it matter to you? God only knows why you're so keen to keep me out of Azkaban anyway, what with how fond you are of me and all"

To his surprise, Arcturus did not immediately spit back venom at him. The elder wizard’s face searched his own, the iron-grey gaze Sirius was so used to being on the wrong side of softening by the tiniest margin. 

"Enough of this foolish talk" Arcturus growled lowly - but calmer. He let go of Sirius, who stepped backwards slowly away from him. "You will not be returning to Azkaban, and there will be no more foolish talk of dying. This family has lost far too much already for you to be so selfish"

"Because that's all I am to you, isn't it?" said Sirius shakily. He sank down an armchair by the fire and leaned forward, elbows on knees, his hair falling into his face. He stared aimlessly into the fire. "A piece in the puzzle.The next generation of the Black line. That’s all I’ve ever been to you"

"There are far worse things to be in this world, boy" said Arcturus, quietly. 

Sirius did not reply. He continued to stare into the fire. 

“I think it is time you took your leave” The tone of Walburga’s voice was dangerous, heavy with deep anger. 

“I quite agree,” Arcturus replied, stonily. “There is little more to be said or done here tonight” 

Again, Sirius had nothing to contribute. The fire’s glow warmed his face to match his stinging cheek until he could scarcely feel the difference.  

Arcturus moved to stand before the fireplace - and before the chair in which Sirius was slumped. He reached into the ceramic pot of Floo powder on the mantlepiece and grabbed a handful, though he paused before tossing it into the flames.

“I will… continue to make enquiries” Arcturus’s voice, though uncharacteristically plain, was enough to draw Sirius’s gaze out of the fire and up towards him. 

Sirius noticed how his grandfather’s attention focused briefly on the side of his face before looking him in the eye. 

“Thank you” Sirius murmured. 

Arcturus nodded. He tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace and the flames gave a roar as they turned bright green. 

Before stepping into the fireplace, Arcturus turned again, hesitantly, towards his grandson.

"And that is not- all you are to me"

Before Sirius could either fully process his words or decide if he wanted to reply, Arcturus had stepped into the flames and disappeared.

The sound of his mother’s soft footsteps approaching him diverted Sirius’s attention from the now-empty fireplace. 

“Stand up” 

Walburga’s voice was cool, yet calm. 

His mind still hazy from the slap, Sirius found himself obeying. As he rose to his feet, he caught sight of himself in the mirror above the fireplace. A small but vibrant bruise had already marred the corner of his eye. It’s deep purple colour stood out starkly against his pale complexion. The sight of it made the dull throb of pain pulsing in the side of his face all the more apparent. 

Walburga’s hand reached out to tilt his face towards her. She steered him gently, turning the bruised side of his face towards the light. Wordlessly, she lifted her wand and, ignoring Sirius’s automatic flinch, lightly pressed the tip to his bruise and murmured an incantation. 

Instantly, Sirius felt the pain recede and when he glanced into the mirror again, the bruise was gone. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. 

Walburga did not remove her hold on his face. She examined him again, her formidable gaze flickering with something softer. Concern? 

“You ought to go to bed,” she said, quietly. “You worked right through this afternoon without a rest” 

“I told you, I’m not a child” Sirius’s protest was weak. A token, more than anything, but to her credit, Walburga didn’t resist as he moved himself out of her grip. “I can survive without an afternoon nap”

“Forgive me if I remain unconvinced” 

Sirius made a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with the mirror, lest he be confronted with the all-too-obvious shadows under his eyes. He found himself suddenly heavy with weariness, and turned for the door without dismissing himself from his mother’s company.

“Sirius” 

Sirius paused and turned slowly to face his mother. 

Walburga stood silently, her hands clasped in front of her in an uncharacteristically awkward manner, her mouth half-open as though on the brink of speech but not yet entirely certain what to say. 

“Sleep well” she said, eventually. 

Sirius paused and waited, in case she had anything else to add. When it was clear she did not, he wordlessly turned away and left the room.