While people truly believed that the school of Beauxbatons only hosted the french, the school had more culture than you could ever believe. Within the large school, larger than Hogwarts or Durmstrang, the sisters of the Louvére family lived their li...
"I thought it might be that," said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."
It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; never- theless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was redolent of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.
"— comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too —"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf.
"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermione pleadingly, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."
"Our elf in France has been left there for quite a few years but not for long periods of time because of school we stayed in the manor in France, our Elf is definitely not as weird as Kreacher." Said Aurélie.
"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little —"
"If you just set him free," said Hermione hopefully, "maybe —"
"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," said Sirius curtly. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."
𓆩 𓆩 𓆩 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆪 𓆪 𓆪
Sirius walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. Harry and the others followed.
The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as Aurélie could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black "Toujours Pur"
"You're not on here!" said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree.
"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home — Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."
"You ran away from home?"
"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough."
"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.
"Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold — he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why — anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."
"But . . . why did you . . . ?"
"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, un- kempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them . . . that's him."
Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name regulus black. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth.
"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."
"But he died," said Harry.
"Yeah," said Sirius. "Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters."
"You're kidding!"
"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius testily.
"Were — were your parents Death Eaters as well?"
"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things. . . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right lit- tle hero for joining up at first."
"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Oh no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."
"Lunch," said Mrs. Weasley's voice. She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. Aurélie left Sirius and Harry to join the others for lunch sensing that Sirius probably wanted a private conversation with Harry.
After lunch Aurélie was told her mission which was to try and recruit some foreign wizards to join the Order of the Phoenix, should be easier said than done.
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