House of snakes

Chapter 12

Hadrian walked down to the dining room on Tuesday morning to find Remus frowning over his coffee. "Weren't you working today?" Hadrian asked as Peachy magicked him his breakfast.

"I flooed in sick for a family emergency," Remus said. "Sirius's grandfather died today."

"Which one?" Hadrian asked, knowing both Arcturus Black and Pollux Black were living last he checked.

"Lord Arcturus Black, the previous Head of the House of Black. It's... it'll be a big funeral. I'm sure you'll be getting official invitations to the wake once Sirius finishes drafting them."

"Sirius is doing that?" Hadrian asked. "I thought he wasn't close with the other remaining Blacks."

"No, they didn't want anything to do with him even after the trial," Remus said in a low voice. "Of course all the remaining are rather aged and set in their ways. But... but Arcturus never officially disowned Sirius and by right of blood, since Orion was the oldest, that makes Sirius the next Lord Black. Whether they like it or not, he's in charge of what's left of that cursed family now."

Hadrian nodded. He hadn't realized, though he should have. When he'd known Sirius in his past life, all the other Blacks had already died so he'd always figured that if Sirius had been able to take his title as Lord Black, he would have. But Sirius hadn't so he'd always assumed Sirius had been actually disowned. Then again, maybe Sirius had been disowned, perhaps by Arcturus right before he died. In this life, with Sirius free, Arcturus would have had no reason to do so.

Arcturus dying bothered Hadrian though, for more than just the obvious difficulty it put upon Sirius. He contemplated it while he finished his breakfast—with Remus brooding and Harry gone over at the Malfoys, having requested to introduce the totally fun idea of sleepovers to Draco, the time was oddly silent. Hadrian decided to check on Sirius before flooing over to get his charge.

He walked up the stairs and popped his head into Sirius's bedroom—the door already partially open. "Sirius?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, voice gruff.

Hadrian opened the door fully and took note of the dog animagus. Sirius looked dead tired, eyes red and bags under them. There was a scruff on his cheek, likely he'd forgotten to do his morning shaving spell, and he wore a robe thrown over his night clothes.

"What time did you find out?" Hadrian asked as he watched Sirius drafting a letter.

"Don't know. Middle of the night. The family magic crashed down on me kinda angrily, probably 'cause Arcturus never liked me much." Sirius sighed and set down his quill. "You have any experience writing obituaries?"

Hadrian had too much experience, from his previous life. He swallowed down the memory and nodded.

He helped Sirius draft three different versions of the obituary—one to send to the paper, one for Black family members including those closely married from the family like Lucius Malfoy, and to all the other members of ancient and noble houses that were expected to come to the funeral of a lord of such a house.

"I'll need to go to Diagon Alley to order enough owls to send all of these off," Sirius said. "And I need to deliver Grandfather Pollux and Aunt Cassiopeia and that lots' in person. Probably stay at Black Manor with them until the funeral." Sirius rubbed his face, frowning as if just now noticing his own scruff. He grabbed his wand and casually waved it away.

Hadrian watched the nonchalant use of non-verbal magic and considered how quickly the family magic was settling over Sirius. Family magic wasn't alive, not really, but it was a weight and with that weight brought a kind of deeper understanding of magic itself. There was a reason that the heads of noble houses were so respected and it came from a time when it was acknowledged they had a connection with the essence of magic—even magic tainted with the presence of all their house—that most would never experience.