Work Text:
April 1971
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of Sirius’s fingernail tapping on the side table drowned out the incessant noise of his relatives droning on about their lives. It drew in his focus. His mind empty of all thought, he drifted, lost somewhere in the wilderness.
It was often the way when he was forced to listen to his family’s nonsense. Boredom seeped into his bones and stole his lucidity away.
‘Sirius…’ came the hiss of his Mother’s voice, so harsh and unforgiving of his plight.
It broke his mediation. The hums of discontent, the clink of teacups, and the scratching of the record player spitting out some dull piano composition flooded his brain. His eyes shot up, meeting his Mother’s cool gaze, her nostrils flaring and brows knitted together in disgust. It was a look that was supposed to cower him, but it just made him want to scream.
For a moment, Sirius stilled, pulling his body back, poised to strike back. At 11 years old, Sirius had not yet learnt the art of picking his battles. His reactions were swift, instinctive, and emotion-fueled, setting him directly at odds with his stoic, unfeeling family.
Today, though, his brother and ally would save him from himself. Sirius felt a light pitch on his side - that squeeze so often used by Regulus as a taunt, hint, or warning. Do not engage. Reggie's eyes pleaded with him, communicating what he said out loud only when they were alone. It’s pointless; she’s not worth it; why bother? Sirius rarely agreed.
Still, this time, Sirius listened, or at least didn’t altogether reject the plea. He sighed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air and his body back into the Chaise Longue behind him. He slumped into it in a most ungentlemanlike manner, gazing at his brother, who merely rolled his eyes in response. Sirius huffed gently as the conversation resumed, sitting on his hands to try and still their desire to playfully pinch, punch or flick Reggie and make something interesting happen for once.
The snippets of conversation around him held no interest.
‘The Minister is struggling…‘
‘It’s the Moderniser's fault. They should never have allowed Muggles inside Merlin’s Cave in the first place…’
‘At least we have a Wizard ready to act on our side now…’
His Father told him these things would mean more to him when he was older, but he couldn’t see it. Politics was deathly dull.
Sirius’s hands twitched under his thigh, flexing with the ghost of movement he so desperately wanted. Reggie gave him a cheeky smirk and a look of triumph as if he could read Sirius like a book. ‘Later,’ Sirius whispered, half threat, half promise, thinking of the headlock he’d pull his little brother into when they finally escaped and could let all this energy out.
Reggie merely raised his eyebrows and returned to listening to the conversation, seemingly fascinated by Auntie Druella detailing Andromeda’s upcoming nuptials to Thorfinn Rowle in excruciating detail. How his brother could remain so still and attentive when faced with the world's most deadly boring conversation, Sirius would never understand. The traitor.
Sirius’s restless body could not help but stay in motion, his bum wiggling and legs jiggling, trying to expel the energy thrumming through his veins. The dullness was too much for him to bear.
Then he saw something. A movement caught the corner of his eye underneath his Mother’s armchair. He slumped further until his body was flush with the seat, craning his neck to see better. In the darkness under the chair, a black mass was making short, sharp movements, almost as if it was fidgeting. Sirius strained his ears, catching the soft sound of shuffling and the scratch of claws from within. He took a sharp breath, leaning further towards it, his eyes wide and shining with excitement.
This unknown creature could be anything: a Boggart, a Leithfold, maybe even a Grim if he was lucky. Regulus would scoff and tell him it was just his imagination, but one of these days, he would find something to prove him wrong. Slowly, he uncurled his arm, reaching his hand out closer and closer until he could almost touch the beast…
‘Sirius Black!’ his Mother roared as she slapped his hand back, the sharp sting making Sirius jump up. ‘Outside, now! If you can’t be trusted to sit still, you can freeze out there. I don’t want to see you until supper!’
Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. Leaping up, he ran from the Drawing Room, skipping through the hallways of Black Manor until he reached the Orangery and threw open the doors to the gardens beyond.
He breathed in the sweet smell of freedom, the crisp, cool air of the April afternoon, sighing with satisfaction. Spring was not quite alive yet, and the breeze was brisk, but he would take any weather if he didn’t have to endure his family today. Bounding onto the lawns, he headed straight for the woods, picking up a stick and idly skimming it through the grass.
He walked for hours, eyes searching the tree line and stick poking the ground, hoping to find anything of interest. Bugs were thin on the ground, and the rope swing could only keep him engaged for so long. Perhaps that stray dog would make an entrance again… Then he remembered. Bella had probably scared him away for good.
Sirius was destined to be disappointed. He sighed and gave a dissatisfied hum as he realised there was no entertainment to be found. A shiver followed, and a sudden awareness of the chill in the air grew icier as darkness descended on the grounds. Coldness seeped into his bones, and he restlessly began to shake, bouncing on his toes and searching for a way out.
He couldn’t go back into the Drawing Room and face his Mother; that was for certain. Sirius searched the windows at the back of the Manor, looking for a way to avoid the inevitable run-in. His Grandfather's study was lit up, which meant his watchful eye would catch him if he tried to sneak back in via the East Wing. The Elves were busy in the kitchens, perhaps too occupied not to notice if he slithered in. But where to go from there? Sirius’s eyes settled on the flickering candles in Andromeda’s room, calmness washing over him as the choice was made.
He hadn’t seen much of his favourite cousin over the Ostara break. She had been quiet at family dinners, casting her eyes down as their family plotted and planned, looking even more disinterested than usual. She was pale and appeared slightly nauseous, perhaps at the thought of being betrothed to one of those pompous idiots his Mother wanted him to be more like. His Mother had been ranting for weeks, muttering about his Aunt’s success in matching her to the Rowle boy. He wondered how his cousin felt about it. ‘Meda was too good for the lot of them.
She had sat next to him one afternoon while tea was served, squeezing his hand discreetly when his Mother threw a Stinging Hex at him for some slight he couldn’t even remember. As the pain lanced through his body, her cat jumped up onto the Chaise Longue between them. Andromeda had placed his hand on the warm fur, encouraging him to pet and stroke the animal, its purrs calming his racing heart.
Sirius needed some of that warmth right now.
He carefully opened the door to the kitchens, ducking to crawl behind the island and avoid the busy Elves. It only took three long strides to make it to the entrance to the back stairs. Then, it was just a case of avoiding the creaking steps and floorboards on his way to Andromeda’s room. At 11 years old, Sirius and his brother had years of experience sneaking around to avoid the wrath of his Mother to draw from. He told Reggie it was good practice; they could be Aurors, Unspeakables or Spies when they grew up. Reggie said Sirius was more likely to be a thief.
When he reached Andromeda’s door, he didn’t bother to knock, opening the door slowly and peeping his head around. She was reading, as usual. Curled into her favourite armchair, her body folded into itself, biting her lips and scrunching up her face as her eyes scanned the text. Her hair was falling out of its clip in disarray, bags were formed under her soft eyes, and her nails looked like they’d been bitten right down. Sirius grinned as he took her in. One of the things he liked most about her was how unbothered she was about sitting up straight, combing her hair and looking like a ‘model of a Pureblood,’ as his Mother would say.
‘Tell me your reading about duels and not runes or something worse…’ Sirius demanded, sauntering into the room and plopping himself down on the chair next to her vanity table without invitation.
Andromeda smiled indulgently at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘It’s about creating blood wards actually…’ she replied, shutting the book and showing him the cover. ‘Blood Wards for Protection,’ it read.
Sirius screwed up his face in disgust. He hated blood rituals, especially when they involved a sacrifice. Still, he knew Andromeda wouldn’t do that for fun like Bella or his Mother would, so he decided to change the subject. ‘Have you got any Chocolate?’ he asked hopefully.
She raised her brows and gave a long-suffering sigh, pointing at the table beside him. ‘In the wooden box, but leave me some this time…’
Sirius grinned and dove in, picking a honeycomb chocolate and munching happily away. After a moment of satisfaction, his gaze returned to his cousin and held out the box to her.
Andromeda took it with a sad smile, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice the slight shake in her hand as she did so. He knew exactly what that meant. Someone had hurt her. She breathed softly, closing her eyes as she popped the chocolate in her mouth.
‘Have another one,’ Sirius insisted, pushing the box towards her once more and giving her a look of understanding. No one ever talked about the punishments their elders occasionally doled out. It would be pointless to do so. But they all understood and would help each other recover. Apart from Bella, of course.
Andromeda complied with a hum. Her knowing gaze looked him up and down, checking him over like she always did for bumps, bruises, or worse. As she caught his shiver, she cast a warming charm over him. ‘Come and get me so I can do that before you go outside next time,’ she demanded gently.
He shrugged. ‘I just need to run a bit more, then I’ll get warmer,’ he replied stubbornly, swinging his legs and twisting his body, trying to expel restless energy. ‘Did that dog ever come back to the grounds?’ He asked in the most casual tone he could muster.
Andromeda gave him one of her soft, knowing looks that suggested she could see through his blasé. ‘I haven’t seen it, and I doubt I will after what Bella did.’
Sirius shuddered, a frown marring his face as he remembered the dog's whines and whimpers as Bella had shot hexes at it a week ago.
‘If you keep playing with him, Bella will catch you again, you know…’ Andromeda continued softly.
Sirius snorted defiantly, avoiding eye contact and gazing out of the window. A small herd of deer were meandering across the lawns, stopping to graze now and again in the moonlight. He watched them in comfortable silence for a while, admiring how graceful, calm and content they seemed.
‘Do you ever wish you were an animal?’ He whispered finally.
Andromeda followed his gaze and hummed. ‘Sometimes,’ she replied. ‘Do you?’
Sirius hummed with agreement. ‘Depends which one, of course…’
Andromeda scoffed. ‘Are you worried you’d be a Flobberworm?’ she teased.
‘Hey!’ Sirius grumbled good-naturedly. ‘That’s my father you’re thinking of. Mother would be a Harpy…’ he added darkly.
‘You’re terrible!’ Andromeda snorted.
‘Come on, you don’t think Bella would be a Scorpion?!’
Andromeda sighed, resigned. ‘I can’t deny she’s got a sting. I always thought Narcissa would make a beautiful Swan…’
‘And her betrothed is a Peacock,’ Sirius said devilishly, thinking of how Lucius Malfoy strutted around.
‘That’s just mean,’ Andromeda scolded lightly, unable to hide her smile. ‘You’re going to be eating your words when you find out you’re a Newt…’
Sirius gasped in mock outrage. ‘I have you know I’d be something majestic. An Eagle, a Lion, maybe a Stag…’
‘You’ll find out when you go to Hogwarts and learn the Patronus Charm,’ Andromeda smiled.
'I thought Blacks couldn’t do that?’ Sirius asked curiously. ‘Doesn’t Grandfather say Patronuses are for Blood Traitors?’
A flash of something inscrutable passed over Andromeda’s eyes. ‘I’ve had more luck lately…’
‘Are you a Blast-Ended Skrewt?’ he asked innocently, a twinkle in his eye.
Andromeda threw a pillow at him, which he caught with a laugh. ‘A Chameleon, actually.’
‘That’s quite cool,’ he admitted with a grin, taking another chocolate from the box.
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ Andromeda deadpanned, perching on the end of the armchair, craning her neck so she could observe the deer out of the window better. The herd had gathered, and some were lying down, their heads resting on each other's backs. ‘It looks simpler to be one of them, doesn’t it?’
‘And more fun,’ Sirius smiled, watching as a fowl skipped around its Mother.
‘Definitely,’ she agreed. ‘I suppose you’d make a decent enough Deer. You’d just have to make sure you don’t meet any Wolves…’
‘Rubbish!’ he smiled, his eyes twinkling devilishly. ‘I’m sure they wouldn’t eat me. I'm far too charming…’
Andromeda let out a low, throaty laugh, her bright eyes sparkling joyfully. It suited her. Everyone thought she looked like Bella, but Sirius thought her warmth changed her whole face. Her kindness made her much prettier.
‘You’re going to be a menace when you get to Hogwarts, aren’t you?’ she teased.
Sirius beamed at her. ‘Sad you won’t see it?’ He asked cheekily. Andromeda was going to graduate from Hogwarts for this summer. When he started on September 1st, he’d only have Narcissa for company, and they had never seen eye to eye.
‘I am, actually,’ she said with a wistful smile. ‘I’m going to miss so much.’
’You’ll be busy. Mother says you’ll be a Rowle by the summer,’ Sirius said, spitting the word Rowle like a disease.
Andromeda grimaced. ‘That’s what they’ve set up for me, yes.’
‘Am I going to have to wear those stiff, horrible Dress Robes at your wedding?’ Sirius groaned. His hand began to skim the draw underneath her vanity, and he absentmindedly began to pull it open and shut.
Andromeda snorted. ‘Take that one up with your Mother. I’ve got bigger things to think about,’ she said darkly.
Sirius peered down at the open draw of the vanity, and a flash of something bright in the draw caught his eye. Slowly, he opened the drawer and stilled as he gaped at the contents within. Inside was a square, flat piece of cardboard adorned with the most unusual image he had ever seen. A dark blue border framed a picture of what looked like stick people, all crammed together, moving together and, more disturbingly, laughing. It was like a child’s drawing but much more vibrant and interesting. The text read ‘Martha and the Vandellas: Dance Party’.
His heart was hammering in his chest when he whispered, ‘What’s that?’, his eyes wide and jaw hanging open.
‘It’s a record,’ Andromeda said lightly, her eyes flashing with panic momentarily before she schooled her expression into something more neutral.
He’d seen many records before, but nothing that looked like this. His father had a grammar phone in his study at Grimmauld Place and would play concertos, symphonies or chamber music in the evenings. Andromeda even had a few, and she played him recordings of Debussy when she was tired of teaching him compositions on the piano at Black Manor. Their covers were always solid black, with only the name of the composition on them.
‘It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,’ he whispered, his voice emphasising every word as his eyes darted about, scanning the image of abstract figures dancing on the cover. It was like something alien, from another world. Suddenly, it clicked in his mind. ‘It’s not Wizarding, is it?’ He said with awe. He was holding a Muggle record in his hand. He had to be.
Everything his Mother had ever drilled into him suggested he should be scrubbing his hands clean right now for even touching such filth. Muggle things were crude, disgusting and wrong. But it didn’t look that way. It looked bright, bold and, above all, enticing. He traced his fingers over the cover reverently, thinking he had to know what it sounded like.
‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Andromeda whispered, her voice low. ‘I’m serious.’
Sirius couldn’t help it; he really couldn’t. Lightness bloomed in his chest as he began to answer. ‘No, I’m S-‘
‘Don’t!’ Andromeda stopped him, her gaze stern but her eyes still twinkling. ‘It’s a terrible joke. I don't know why you insist on telling it…’
Sirius grinned, and then his expression turned to pleading once more. He knew he didn’t have the best reputation for keeping secrets. Reggie told him often enough that he was too hot-headed. Too frequently, they came out when he was angry or upset, which was a frequent occurrence. But he could keep this one for her. He gave her a pleading look as he said firmly, ‘I won’t tell, I promise. Can we listen to it?’
Andromeda scrutinised him openly, clearly weighing up what to do. ‘Quietly,’ she agreed finally with a sigh. ‘We cannot be heard - you know what will happen…’
Sirius nodded, excitement brimming in his eyes. Andromeda gave him a stern look but silenced the room and turned on the record.
Sirius jumped onto her bed, crossing his legs, nerves running through his body as he waited for it to begin. Andromeda gave him a conspiratorial look as she sat beside him and snuggled up as the first chords began.
It hit him like a freight train. Big, bold brass, a wall of sound, and a catchy beat assaulted his ears in the best possible way. His heart swelled with the sheer audacity and vibrancy of it—and better still, the lyrics.
‘Is this what Muggles do? Dance in the street?’ Sirius asked incredulously.
Andromeda shrugged and gave him a twinkling smile. ‘I’ve got no idea. You live near them. Have you ever seen any dancing out of your windows?’
Sirius frowned, contemplating this. It was an open secret amongst the cousins how much time Sirius spent staring out the window outside Grimmauld Place. The outside world was far more interesting than anything going on inside it. Muggles wandered past at all hours of the day, wearing tiny robes, chatting to each other and sometimes even whistling.
‘Nope. I saw a man and a woman sort of staggering about, clinging to each other and laughing once. It was kind of mad…’ Sirius whispered, his eyes wide.
‘In a bad way?’ Andromeda probed.
‘Nope. Definitely not! They looked sort of happy…’. Sirius remembered the pang in his heart as he’d watched them and how he’d felt hungry to get closer.
Andromeda’s eyes were glassy as she gave him a light bump on the shoulder. ‘So what do you think of this song?’
‘It’s weird!’ Sirius said, his voice getting higher as his foot tapped up and down. ‘It’s sort of jingly jangly, but I like it…’
‘Me too,’ Andromeda whispered conspiratorially, snuggling up to him further as they listened to track after track. Sirius lay back, pressing his body against hers to feel her warmth.
The strains of ‘Nowhere to Run’ filled the air. ‘This is my favourite,’ she whispered.
Sirius just hummed gently, closing his eyes as he let Andromeda card her fingers through his hair. She was the only Witch who did this for him. He could still remember being a small boy and Andromeda wrapping her arms around him, stroking his hair gently as she sang him the Black Lullaby.
It gave him that strange feeling in his tummy. It felt like laughing with Reggie, playing with that stray dog, or the soaring feeling he got when he was flying through the air. Apart from Reggie, there was no one else he trusted like he trusted her. She was warmth, goodness, and light—everything the most Ancient and Noble House of Black was not.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, sang the woman in the background. Images flashed through his head of all the times he’d tried to escape his parents' wrath. Still, the sharp sting of Walburga Black's tongue, or worse, the end of her wand, always found him, no matter how well he hid. It was like that for his brother and all his cousins - step out of line, and there would be consequences.
Sirius began to hum the song gently, idly commenting. ‘It’s like us, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ Andromeda agreed, her voice cracking, pulling him in for a tighter squeeze.
.................
The last weekend in June, 1971
Sirius loved chaos. It was hard not to love the times when his family's masks slipped. All the stiffness dissolved into fluidity as they struggled to react to it. Chaos also meant opportunity. When his family was distracted by a crisis, it was much easier to sneak out and get what he wanted: freedom.
So when he was dragged to Black Manor through the Floo by the scruff of his neck and descended into what looked like a war zone, he wasn’t worried. He grabbed Reggie’s hand and pulled him towards the doors to the grounds, desperate to grasp their chance to escape.
His brother had different ideas. He stood rigid, his stiff body routed to the floor, and Sirius couldn't move him. Reggie shook his head violently, eyes intense and unyielding. ‘We need to stay,’ he demanded.
Sirius pinched Reggie’s arm lightly, willing him to budge, but it was useless. He was using those big, soulful eyes that told Sirius he was in too deep and needed help. Sirius always gave in.
Usually, that help would involve creating a distraction, moving the focus onto himself and taking the wrath thrown in his direction. Today, that didn’t feel right, though. Whatever this chaos was, it was significant.
Sirius' heart began to pick up pace, drumming in his chest, and the signs began to flash in his mind. Danger, they said. Without conscious thought, he allowed Reggie to guide him into a nearby alcove, where they could observe from the shadows.
Observation was much more Reggie’s forte. Nonetheless, Sirius had still been socialised from the cradle to spot danger three paces away. No one in this family was ever truly safe, and all that adrenaline spiking through his body homed his senses to spot those shaking hands, stony expressions, and mutinous expressions suggesting they needed to watch and wait. Experience taught him they were one wrong step away from a tongue-lashing or worse.
The scene before them was a tableau of despair. Narcissa sat in the centre of the room in perfect stillness, her hands clawing at the chair's fabric while she stared listlessly into the distance. Her beautiful face was as expressive as Sirius had ever seen her: drawn, anguished, and exhausted. More surprisingly, her usually perfect hair now resembled a bird's nest.
All around, the Blacks were in disarray. Uncle Cygnus looked so green he might throw up, his Grandmother whispered to herself and picked her perfectly manicured nails, and Aunt Druella, with a face like thunder, hissed in Narcissa’s ear. Sirius had never seen them all looking so animated.
‘What’s going on…’ he whispered to Reggie, backing away further into the alcove. As he did so, he made a fatal mistake. The side of his arm clipped an ancient Ming Vase, sending it toppling off its stand. Sirius and Regulus gasped simultaneously, their arms reaching out to grasp it. They stumbled into each other, Sirius stubbing his toe as he went down, their arms intertwined, and they caught the Vase between them a mere 3 inches from the floor.
They stayed in that tangled position for a moment, clasping the Vase, breaths caught in their throat and eyes comically wide, staring at each other in disbelief. The sound of heavy footsteps by the door made them both turn their heads simultaneously, their guilty faces resting on their Father, who was strolling into the room. Orion Black widened his eyes slightly at the sight of his sons in such a compromising position but swiftly turned to his destination.
Orion stopped next to Druella, Sirius’s Aunt, and demanded in a stern voice. ‘Arcturus is waiting for you in the study. Andromeda is not with the Abbotts.’
Druella paled but nodded, gulping in and standing up. She smoothed her robes and held her head high as she swept from the room, Orion hot on her heels.
Sirius turned to Reggie and saw his confusion mirrored in his brother’s face. Dropping a Vase was an offence that deserved at least a Stinging Hex. What was wrong with his family? Why wasn’t he writhing about on the floor in pain right now? And what did any of this have to do with Andromeda? She was the quiet one, the wallflower who never caused a fuss…
Sirius and Reggie slowly rose, carefully placing the Vase back on its stand and eyeing their family with a new wariness.
‘’Meda’s missing?’ Reggie whispered in Sirius’s ears, checking his assumptions.
Sirius nodded in response. It was the only thing that made sense. Still, it didn’t explain the graveness of his family’s expressions. Was she hurt? Sirius’s heart beat wildly at the thought.
It only took a moment for another crash, followed by a roar before storm Bellatrix whipped into the room. Her body taught, eyes bulging wildly, looking as unhinged as Sirius had ever seen her. ‘The living embodiment of the Black Madness’, his Father had called her behind closed doors. She was certainly living up to the name today.
Sirius froze. His nerves were on high alert as he took a deep breath, contemplating his least favourite cousin. Bella had always been selfish, demanding, and cruel, but now that she’d reached adulthood, she seemed harder and more dangerous. She spent family dinner ranting about all the ills in the world and prophesying about some Dark Lord or other. Sirius did his best to ignore her whenever he could. It was safer that way.
Bella was screeching at Narcissa, who he’d never seemed so exhausted.
‘How could she?’ Bella roared as she bound towards her sister.
How could she what? Sirius thought, bewildered. Reggie shrugged beside him, watching Narcissa, who looked like she might throw up. Water threatened to spill from her eyes as she eyed her oldest sister. Sirius’s brows knitted in confusion. Why did Narcissa look like she might cry? Blacks never cried…
‘It’s the Mudblood, isn’t it?!’ Bella continued. ‘It has to be!’
Narcissa’s head snapped up and met her sister’s wild eyes, the blood draining from her face. She threw her head into her hands and whispered. ‘I assume so.’
Why did a Mudblood matter to them? Had they done something to Andromeda? It didn’t make any sense…
Bella paced across the room, sparks coming from her heels as she spun around, arms flailing. ‘Did you know? Did you catch them?!’ she spat.
‘Of course not!’ Narcissa cried in anger. ‘If I’d have caught them, Mother would have been the first to know! I’ve had them followed all term, and they’ve not put a foot wrong.’
‘Where does he live? I will find him, and I will gut him,’ Bella hissed, clutching her wand so tightly that Sirius thought it might snap.
‘How would I know?!’ Narcissa pleaded, her voice soft and splintered as she bit her nails.
‘How could she do this to us?’ Bella raged. ‘How could she go against us, her family, for a dirty animal?!’
‘I don’t know, Bella,’ Narcissa answered in a broken whisper, slumping in despair. ‘I don’t know.’
A dawning horror crept up on Sirius. Panic flooded his body, and his ears began to ring. Andromeda had run away; it was the only thing that made sense. Worse, she had defied everything her family expected of her and gone with a Mudblood.
‘Does she not know what is at stake? What this looks like for us? I don’t know if the Dark Lord will forgive us…’ Bella wailed.
‘I know, Bella. I know,’ Narcissa answered, closing her eyes.
The sounds around Sirius seemed to quiet; blood pounded through his head, leaving a dull thud as if he were underwater. He certainly felt like he was drowning. The air was stolen from his lungs, and his pulse weakened.
He was only brought into awareness by the sharp grip of Reggie's hand, his nails digging into the skin of his arm so hard they would probably bruise. It was a stark reminder that he was not alone in his shock.
Sirius tried to stutter out some words of comfort for his younger brother, but he could not find them. Instead, they stood rigid and taut for what could have been hours, listening to his family's words and trying to piece together what had happened.
‘Edwina Abbott won’t talk to us at all? I knew that girl was a bad influence…’
‘If Narcissa suspected something, why didn’t she tell you, Druella? What kind of Mother are you?’
‘He’s Scottish, you say? Well then, we have to comb the Highlands!’
There was no time for the brothers to talk that evening. They fell asleep in an armchair that night and woke up back in their beds at Grimmauld Place the following morning.
Sirius sprung out of bed when the sun rose, running to Reggie's room, finding him already dressed and staring listlessly out of the window.
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Reggie said with a sigh.
‘’Meda couldn’t have run away…’ Sirius started, bounding towards the bed and sitting beside his brother.
Regulus gave him a sad smile. ‘Why are they all saying she did, then?’
‘She wouldn’t annoy them all like that; she’s too clever! She’s never defied any of them. It can’t be right,’ Sirius insisted.
‘I know she’s your favourite,’ Reggie said kindly. ‘But Mother doesn’t lie.’
Sirius was about to protest when they heard the screech of their mother in the Drawing Room. Sirius tried to stop Reggie from running towards it, but he was too fast. Sirius sighed and bound up behind him, following him with trepidation.
‘The whore has married the Mudblood,’ his Mother was hissing, manically pacing up and down the room, her eyes wild and accusing.
Sirius's eyes flicked to the Black Tapestry, that dusty old relic where his ancestors resided, taunting him with their ‘tales of success’. Great Great Great Aunt Cassiopeia who championed Muggle Hunts. The first Sirius Black who’d died at only eight, after his brother accidentally poisoned him. Elladora Black who’d started the family tradition of beheading House Elves. Sirius always preferred the stories about the ones who had been smited out. They sounded much more fun.
He took a sharp breath as he saw the bottom of the family tree. Andromeda’s name was now connected to another. Edward Tonks.
‘She is no daughter of the House of Black,’ his Mother declared, raising her wand and hissing a spell that shot fire towards Andromeda’s name.
Sirius gasped as if he might stop her, but the fire instantly roasted Andromeda, her likeness curling and distorting until it was nothing but ash. His mouth gaped open, taking in the hole where her name should be, black, tarred and smoking as if she had been snuffed out of the world entirely.
‘She’s gone,’ Reggie said gently to himself, almost as if saying out loud would make him understand it.
Sirius would never understand it. Andromeda was his cousin, his favourite cousin; she would always be. How could it be any other way? He shook his head in disbelief. ‘No…’ he whispered.
He hardly noticed when a strong arm dragged him to the Floo and pushed him through towards Black Manor. A cacophony of sounds surrounded him: his Mother's spitting, hissing, and babbling, and the mutterings and shocked gasps of the rest of his family. It was the biggest outpouring of emotion he’d ever seen in the house of Black.
The brief flashes of pain were quickly schooled, though, giving way to his Grandfather's sober assessments. ‘The Tapestry told you?’ Arcturus Black, Sirius’s Grandfather and the Head of the House, asked in a sober, even tone.
Walburga nodded manically.
Sirius's eyes were trained on Narcissa, who looked like her whole world had fallen apart. Surely she would stand by her sister, no matter what?
As the adults began talking about who to inform, Narcissa’s demeanour changed.
‘The Malfoys?’ Druella asked seriously.
‘I will discuss the situation with Abraxas Malfoy this afternoon. I believe he will be reasonable if he knows we have done what is necessary,’ Arcturus replied sternly.
Dreulla took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself. ‘You must emphasise how distraught Narcissa is. It would be sensible for her to be comforted by Lucius now if he is sympathetic. Seeing her softer side may bring out the protector in him,’ she said shrewdly.
A stony hardness grew in Narcissa’s eyes, and her back grew rigid. When she nodded in agreement at her Mother, Sirius could not believe it.
‘Your daughter is capable of doing what needs to be done?’ Walburga asked icily.
‘She is,’ Druella replied firmly. ‘Narcissa has always excelled.’
Walburga scoffed, her eyes still wild and manic. ‘That’s what you said about Andromeda and her incessant talents! Where did that get her in the end? She’s no better than a common whore.’
Druella Black also had no qualms about throwing her daughter under the bus. ‘Like I said, Walburga, she is no longer my daughter. She is no longer a Black. Her name should not even be your tongue,’ she hissed at his Walburga.
‘If she had been my daughter, I would have sought her out by now and gouged out her eyes,’ Walburga spat.
‘Enough! She is dead to us,’ Arcturus cut in, his tone firm and commanding. ‘That means what she does or doesn’t do from now is of no interest to us. She is no longer a Black or our concern. That means no retaliation, no contact. Do I make myself clear?’
The Blacks all nodded around him. Sirius’s jaw dropped in horror at the realisation: the Head of House had spoken, and they would all fall in line like they always did.
The air left his lungs again, a chasm opening up before him. How could they all dismiss her like that? She couldn’t have left them. He needed her. He flexed his hands, his breathing growing rapid and his nostrils flaring, as Reggie pulled him into a side parlour.
‘Don’t,’ Reggie started.
‘Don’t what?’ he started, rounding on his brother.
‘Don’t make them mad,’ he whispered, his wide eyes pleading.
Sirius's head lolled to one side, his eyes softening. He couldn’t resist Reggie when he sounded like this. ‘It’s ‘Meda they are banishing, Reggie. It’s ‘Meda…’ he croaked out.
‘We have to listen,’ Regulus implored. ‘She’s married a Mudblood, Sirius. This is serious.’
‘That doesn’t change who she is, how she helped us,’ Sirius shot back defiantly.
‘She helped you, Sirius. You were always her favourite,’ Reggie said sadly.
‘I can’t forget her. I won’t forget her!’
‘They’re not asking you to forget her,’ Reggie said quietly. ‘But we can’t talk to her again. Mother said she was a whore…’
‘Mother hasn’t got a good word to say about anybody,’ Sirius replied curtly, his voice laced with hurt. ‘They’ll never make me hate her, no matter what they say...’
Sirius couldn’t sleep that night. He felt so wired and overwrought that he wasn’t sure he ever would again. He sat on his windowsill, craning his neck to watch the street below, his eyes widening slightly every time a Muggle walked by.
Some Muggles walked purposefully, skipping along and clutching their bags tightly as if they had somewhere important to be, and others meandered slowly, chatting happily with their companions. All of them looked content. There was none of the sadness, the horror and the cruelty he had seen from the Blacks that day.
Was Andromeda out there somewhere - walking the streets of London so casually, as if she didn’t have a care in the world? Perhaps all her troubles were behind her. He wished he knew where she was, and a small brave part of him wished he could run to her. If he was older, he could take Reggie, too…
A young couple walked into the road, their limbs entwined. Sirius watched as the man spun his companion around in a looser version of the dances he had learnt in his etiquette classes. The woman threw her head back and laughed heartily.
He remembered that line from the record Andromeda had played him a few months ago. Summer’s here, and the time is right for dancing in the street. Sirius hummed gently, not quite believing he was seeing what the song described and how glorious it looked. He wanted to be with those people and feel what they felt.
Maybe that’s what ‘Meda was doing now. Maybe, when he was old enough to sneak out of this house, he’d dance with her, too.