GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Forty Six: Flesh, Blood and Bone)

My only friend.

"I know." Remus said, and Logan thought that he probably did. Being a werewolf was just as ostracising as being a muggleborn, and Remus clung to the family he'd made just as much as Logan did. He knew how desperately Logan needed Alex, the empty ache that not having her there had been like, the breath-stealing fear when he thought she was dead.

Logan was definitely never having kids. Not if it was like this all the time. 

"Where is Black anyway?" Micah sounded agitated. He definitely had Alex's lack of propensity for keeping her cool in scenarios where all she could do was wait.

Remus glanced at the other Fawley child, "Dumbledore took him into a room. He's not meant to leave until he's stopped punching furniture."

"Is that something he does a lot?" Micah inquired curiously.

Remus thought about it for a second, "Only when he gets frustrated for no reason. So basically any day that ends in a 'Y'."

"Sounds exhausting." Logan muttered.

The smile that was returned was one of infinite endurance, "You have no idea."

"But they'll pull through it though." Neither one of them doubted for a second that Sirius and Alex were in this crazy dodgems ride of an adventure together.

Remus looked at his hands, "They have to."

{===}

On the other side of the wall, the possibly-person who was inhabiting the body of the formerly known Alexandria Fawley stared blandly at the wall in front of her, ignoring the man with the beard who was standing on the other side of the clean-cut metal desk. The man in question was swathed in the turquoise robes that someone had told him brought out his eyes, and to be fair they did sparkle a particularly clear blue behind his half moon spectacles.

"Miss Fawley," Professor Dumbledore said again. He paused for a moment, "I suppose I shouldn't call you that. Is there a particular title that you're attached to?"

A smirk tugged the corner of her mouth, "I like you, old man. You're the first person to ask me my name."

"Is there an answer?" The professor asked, holding his beard in placed as he took the chair opposite her.

Not-Alex cocked her head to one side in thought, "Have you ever watched 'The Avengers'? I rather like the idea of being Loki. Or Moriarty."

"Loki. The Norse God of mischief." Dumbledore noted, "An interesting choice."

She shrugged, "I'm new. I can be anything, anyone. I get to do what so few people can when they understand what it means- I get to choose."

"And murder was a part of that choice?" He asked, not unkindly.

Not-Alex, or Loki frowned for a second, "People are... Strange. Some of them choose wrong. Some of them choose to get in my way. They don't choose to do it again."

"People are creatures of change, I've learnt." The old teacher said conversationally, "Constantly evolving to survive. A few even get the option to be good and achieve their goals. It's an odd thought to have as you grow older, see more of the world. But taking away those choices prevents a change for the better, prevents improvement, evolution."

"Yes," The New Girl leaned forwards, "But that's boring."

An odd emotion crossed Dumbledore's face, almost like a flash of familiarity, "Do you know, Maria Fawley visited me once, many years ago, in my office."