GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Forty Six: Flesh, Blood and Bone)

"It is of little interest." The New Girl dismissed, "Despite the unchanged genetic code I no longer think of those with that surname as family."

"Curious."

"Is it?"

Dumbledore smiled a little, "And you have no empathy for Miss Fawley?"

"Empathy?" The New Girl hissed, suddenly angered, "Do you know what it's like, being locked in this shell for years, banging on the walls, begging to be let out? That stupid potion was the closest I came to freedom in her entire life. I've scrunched her up in the smallest corner of this mind I can find, occasionally I let her see what I'm doing with my eyes. That's her empathy."

"So you can let her out?" He asked, "Would you?"

"Well, let's see." The New Girl pondered it for a second, "She had this body for sixteen years, and since I consider myself the better version of her, I'll be nicer. She can have it back for a few days when she's thirty."

Dumbledore let a frown crease his eyes, "How unfortunate."

"How fair." The New Girl glared.

"Well," Dumbledore stood, smoothing down his beard, "I'll leave you to your thoughts. Clearly they compel you quite ferociously."

The New Girl's head snapped up, "You're leaving?"

He smiled knowingly, "You won't mind, I'm sure."

She sniffed, crossing her arms, "Obviously not. I have far more entertaining things to do than talk to a stuffy old teacher."

Dumbledore paused for a second in the doorway. He was reminded by both her tone and her stroppy position that the New Girl was exactly that- New. She was still a child in many ways. Had never played with children her own age, had never sung out of tune into a hairbrush as the wizard himself had done in his youth, had never been taught the difference between right and wrong. There was something profoundly isolated and broken inside of her, but the pride of a young adult stopped her from reaching out. She had Alex's experience of getting hurt, with none of her good memories.

And that's exactly what made her dangerous.

"You'll be fine in here for a few years then, I imagine." The professor continued, "With the one person whose opinion you seem to value."

Her eyes found his, matching spheres of flame, "Excuse me?"

The professor just smiled, knowing the girl had heard him, knowing that she understood the situation, knowing that any hope of gaining her trust was lost as ash blowing on the wind with this one simple gesture.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Goodbye, Moriarty."

The door locked itself behind him as he left.

There was a brief moment of silence, an acknowledgement of the lengths Dumbledore had once again gone to to protect children, an acceptance of the one he was letting down. And then he was set upon by three aggressively concerned teenage boys.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Micah shot to his side.

"Can you fix her?" Logan demanded.

Remus sat back a moment, eyeing the wizened old leader of this war before he prodded gently, "Professor?"

"The building you are in," Dumbledore said instead of answering them, "Is one of the top secret locations of an organisation called the Order of the Phoenix."

Micah was understandably taken aback by this new and unrelated information, rocking back on his heels in anticlimax, "What?"

"About a year ago it was consolidated as a place to hold wizards and witches of interest, not in cruelty, but only so that we can prevent further damage to the populace." The headteacher continued amiably.

Logan spluttered, "But what does that have to do with Alex?"

Dumbledore looked down his long, crooked nose at the boy, saying nothing.

"Oh." Logan's voice was small now, as he stepped back. Remus felt the overwhelming urge to put his hand on the boy's arm. Dark understanding coursed through him. He'd gotten used to Alex being across the hall, Alex waking him up in the middle of the night as she sleep walked down the corridor to the kitchen, where she would mime taking pictures for a while before returning to bed. He missed it.

But compared to Logan and Micah, what he was feeling was nothing.

"What?" Micah demanded again, confused. Either he was the most thick and optimistic Slytherin to ever exist, or he was clinging so desperately to the belief that his sister would be okay that the truth passed directly over his head.

Remus' heart ached for him. His parents were dead, his house was gone, his only sibling little more than a walking ghost, and now she had seemingly disappeared and a stranger was wearing her skin. Micah had never been a part of their little group through choice. He had his own friends, presumably. Had Regulas Black and who knows what other Slytherin buddies. Working against the Dark Lord probably hadn't won him any points in that arena.

But still he fought. And he fought alone. So that he wouldn't have to lose Alex.

And now...

"She's a threat." Logan said limply, "She could hurt anyone. Any one of... Us."

Micah shook his head, "She wouldn't."

"She isn't Alex right now." Remus reminded him gently.

"It doesn't matter." Micah maintained obstinately. He turned to Dumbledore, "That's still my sister, right? That's still her?"

The professor took a breath before answering, the only sign of his emotions that refused to splay his face, "I must warn you, that is no longer a title that she wishes to be attached to."

Micah stumbled back and fell into an uncomfortable chair, head in his hands. Nobody moved. In this, as in everything else, the Fawley child stands alone.

"It's not fair." He mumbled at last. Remus thought he heard the impressions of tears in his voice, "I'm still mad at her. She can't leave while I'm still mad at her."

Remus swallowed. He knew better than almost anyone else that 'fair' was not exactly a word the universe cared to include in its lexicon.