Chapter Text
Prologue: The Fall of You-Know-Who
Minerva rapped smartly on the door and then promptly returned her arm to the delicate package she carried. Thin steaks of orange were beginning to light the horizon, but Minerva ignored them. The icy darkness of the night felt far more appropriate for the circumstances.
She raised her knuckles to knock again, but just then the lock on the door clicked open to reveal a very haggard looking young man. “Professor McGonagall,” he said tonelessly. Minerva could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she narrowed her eyes.
“You’ve been drinking Mr. Black,” she said, stepping firmly around him and into the small townhouse. She glared at the decanter full of golden liquid on his dining room table. She suspected it had a refilling charm in place or she would have poured the entire bottle straight down the nearest drain.
“Yeah,” he said.
Minerva fumed, “Of all the irresponsible things,” she said angrily. “Dumbledore told you I was coming, did he not? I presume he also told you why I’ve come?”
Black’s eyes fell to the package which Minerva still clutched very close to her chest.
Minerva only frowned further when instead of offering a snappy retort, Black turned around and padded slowly into his kitchen. She followed him in and watched as he dunked a goblet into a steaming cauldron on his stove.
“Sober Up Potion,” he said, “L-she taught me how.”
At the near-mention of Miss Evans, Minerva turned away abruptly and wound up jostling the package in her arms. A small cry arose from the previously sleeping child. “Shh,” soothed Minerva, “It’s alright little one.”
“I’ll take him,” said Black.
Minerva eyed him critically. With a bit of reluctance, she carefully handed the child to his godfather.
“Pafoo,” muttered the child in obvious recognition.
“That’s right Harry,” said Black, with something that did not remotely look like a smile. Minerva was not even sure it was meant to be. “Now go back to sleep, okay?” Like Minerva, Black clutched the child tightly to his chest as he attempted to soothe him.
When the boy finally closed his eyes, Minerva relaxed and retreated to the other room. She waved her wand to summon a crystal tumbler and filled it with Black’s brandy. As she’d suspected, the decanter refilled as soon as Minerva placed it back on the table. Black said nothing as she swallowed it in three large gulps.
For several minutes, they remained silent, each caught up in grave thoughts. Then a firework exploded somewhere outside and in an instant, both Minerva and Black had their wands out and aimed at the window. Harry made a noise in his sleep but did not open his eyes and Black gently bounced the little boy into a more comfortable position.
“That’ll be the celebrations,” said Minerva, as her breathing evened out. She stowed her wand back in the pocket of her robe. “News spreads very quickly—particularly where You-Know-Who is concerned. Witches and wizards will be coming back out of hiding all over the country soon, I expect.”
“Yeah,” said Black.
He still looked very tense, and was staring out the window at the early morning sky. Minerva sighed. “Perhaps we ought to try to consider the bright side as well. You-Know-Who is gone. The darkness that has plagued our world for years has finally been defeated.”
Black exhaled, and quietly, so as not to disturb Harry, he said, “I wasn’t expecting such a high cost, Professor. Everyone I loved is dead or a traitor. What will I tell Harry? How can I let him know his mother… his mother is the reason he almost died? And James—.”
Black’s voice broke and Minerva felt her own eyes begin to water. She’d never heard Black speak so gravely before. He’d always had a lively glint in his eye, a barbed joke on his tongue, but the flat grey gaze he wore now had an air of permanence about it. It seemed to Minerva that perhaps Black had died a bit as well in the fiendfyre that had claimed the Longbottoms, the Potters, Lupin, You-Know-Who, and several of You-Know-Who’s highest ranking servants.
She took a breath and swallowed the thick pressure that had built in her chest. It had been a long night and there was still much to be done. Dumbledore would need her help. It was time to begin rebuilding.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything?” said Minerva.
Black nodded and Minerva exited into a now bright new morning. As she walked the short footpath out of Black’s garden and onto the road beyond though, she glanced back at his townhome and frowned. It was as though the light had yet to reach his home. It lay almost completely obscured in the shadow of trees and distant clouds. It had the foreboding look of something that would never see sunlight again.