Decided to publish this chapter on its own and not make you wait for me to write another! The second part is almost done too though and should be posted in the next day or so. Please vote and/or comment and let me know your thoughts! 😘
Chapter title from "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden
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Sirius knew immediately it was the vase. Ben had probably been showing off for his new mate Professor Snape. Rhiannon was already working to piece it back together with her expertise in housekeeping spells by the time Sirius and Colleen reached the living room.
"Ben! I'm serious about the vase— for the last time!" Colleen exclaimed. "You have a whole room full of toys— why do you insist on playing with something so breakable? You know that vase was in your father's family for a very long time!"
"I'm sorry, Mummy."
Colleen sighed and brought the boy into her arms, obviously unable to stay angry at the adorable little lad for too long. She gave a quick thank you to Rhiannon for fixing the family heirloom.
Snape raised an eyebrow in Sirius's direction, an indication that he'd witnessed Ben's magic and agreed with his assessment of what they were dealing with in terms of the boy's present and future abilities. The professors departed immediately after that, Rhiannon promising to return the following weekend to spend more time with Colleen— and bring some more books, much to Snape's chagrin.
Sirius and Colleen handled Ben's bedtime together for the first time, Sirius reading him a story about a little black dog who was friends with an owl. The boy wizard drifted off to sleep a few pages from the end, and Sirius smoothed his hair with a smile. This is what it should have been like with Harry, if he had only done things differently. The realization gave him a haunted feeling, an unease that immediately made him want to escape.
"Angel, you think we could just sleep tonight?" Sirius asked, stretching with a yawn once they reached her bedroom. He realized it was the opposite of what he'd asked her for in the kitchen, and he felt terrible. But it was an improvement; normally when these feelings hit he would have headed straight to a bar.
Colleen responded with a frown. "But Rhiannon gave me a candle and a crystal to use tonight, and Severus gave me these little gummy things that are supposed to help me practice," she protested. "The woman expects us to burn through seventeen candles, Sirius."
He laughed and shook his head. "Look at you, such a good little student. I just have a lot on my mind tonight."
"It's Rhiannon, isn't it?"
"What? Of course not. Harry, actually. I got kind of emotional, I suppose, tucking Ben in tonight. And thinking about my brother. I was asking Severus a lot of questions about him while we prepared dinner earlier. They were in Slytherin house together. Overall, he probably spent more time with Regulus than I did. I just feel like I never got to know him at all."
Sirius sank down on the bed, and Colleen immediately came behind him to rub his shoulders, kissing his head softly.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. Of course we can rest. This is all so silly anyway, when you compare it to what all is going on, and everything you've been through. Crystals and candles can wait."
She kneaded her sweet hands into his neck and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the tension slowly releasing from his body. He was enormously thankful for her, and he knew he should show her. But when these moods struck, they held on tenaciously.
"It's not silly, and I'm excited to help you practice. I just need to take care of something first. How would you feel about visiting my house tomorrow?"
"In guess we can — my place is better furnished and has all our groceries though. I thought we agreed..."
Sirius shook his head, eyes still closed as Colleen worked her magic on his back muscles. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off to give her better access.
"Not my flat. My actual house— the one that's been in the Black family for ages. It's not too far from here at all— in Islington. Pretty sure I'm not supposed to go there, but I'm getting a bit tired of following the rules."
"I'm up for it. Sounds rather exciting, actually. Is the house magical?"
"You have no idea," Sirius replied.
**********
The stone was ice cold against his cheek, not just from the constant presence of the Dementors this time but because winter had officially arrived to the North Sea. Of course that close to the Arctic Circle, most of the year was spent in the clutches of bitterly cold wind, which whipped and whistled through the purposeful cracks in the stone.
Normally Sirius slept sitting up, unless he chose to spend the night as Padfoot. He strived to keep himself as alert as possible, even when catching brief moments of sleep. Tonight the tremors of his cold, aching bones were unbearable against the cell floor. He couldn't transform tonight if he'd wanted to. It had been a testing night, and Sirius's number had been called. Which meant a spellmaster from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had paid him a visit, armed with quill and parchment, a pocket watch that told time down to the millisecond, and emergency medical supplies in case his experiment went too far. The Ministry couldn't afford too much of a scandal.
The Tester had spent the better part of two hours measuring the effects of the Cruciatus Curse— testing new nuances to the spell casting, gauging bodily reactions, timing each one and seeing how long it took for each to respond to a particular curative potion or counter spell. The Testers were covered head to toe in a protective magical suit specially designed to guard them from the effects of the Dementors, so Sirius never saw the face of his torturer. After the man had departed, one of the Dementors floated into the cell in his place, stale bread and lukewarm water suspended in midair in front of it. Supper time. Sirius stomach was in such a knot from the experiments that he didn't give the bread a second glance. It was better that way. The thinner he was, the sooner he could escape.
Dementors didn't emit sounds on their own, unless they were actively attacking, and even then it wasn't a monstrous shriek or roar. It was an eerie suction of air, a hissing, like a haunted whistle cavorting in the winds of the darkest night. Sirius could hear it drifting over from the adjacent cell. It was this low hum that served as the excruciating soundtrack of Azkaban, never ending, like a ringing in the ears. Most of the time he could tune it out, the way one would a fan blowing or a car passing on a Muggle street. But tonight it caught in his brain and made his heart race. He couldn't take an attack tonight. Not after what he'd just been through. Not ever again...he had to break free...before they came again...
Shouting...his own...knowing they were headed to him next, the dark shadowy tentacles becoming visible in the moonlit crack...
Sirius heard the last notes of his shout fade across Colleen's room, and he became aware of his skin, pasted with sweat to her cool satin sheets. His breath was coming in uncontrolled, involuntary waves, and tears hovered at the corners of his eyes.
"Sirius!"
He gazed up in terror at the pale face of his angel-eyed partner, hovering above him in the moonlight streaming in from her window, not the crack of his cold Azkaban cell. Her hand came to his cheek, her thumb capturing his tear. Embarrassment washed over him instantly.
"I'm fine," his voice croaked.
Colleen shook her head. "You're not. Come here." She held his face to her chest, silently encouraging him to breathe in her comforting scent. Sirius did so, allowing the swells of it to crash over his mind like azure waves caressing a storm-blown shore.
Dear gods, I love her, Sirius thought. The truth of it felt like it would burst out of his chest. He wanted her in that moment in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with fading into her— becoming one with her, allowing every ounce of her beauty to fill him and erase his pain.
But he couldn't tell her— not then. She wouldn't want to hear it, coming from such a fragile, broken man. He would have to tell her some other day.
****************
They decided to wait until sunset on Sunday to make the journey to Grimmauld Place, hoping for better cover in the night. Sirius wasn't exactly sure how often the Order was meeting now that school was in session, or whether they'd decided the place was secure enough after his death. Of course it belonged to Harry now; Sirius wished more than anything that they would walk through the door and find the young wizard standing there. But Harry was where he belonged, where he was happy. At school, with his friends. Just like Sirius decades ago. Grimmauld Place was nothing but a monument to sadness and regret. They were both better off right where they were.
Still, Sirius wanted to at least attempt to find the locket that had figured so prominently in his brother's message to him from beyond the veil. If Regulus had been so hell bent on destroying the trinket, his loyalties must have shifted somehow before he died. Sirius knew he would probably never know the circumstances, but he felt he owed it to Regulus and to the Order to follow through on the lead.
Colleen drove them to a nearby street, and they completed the rest of the journey on foot, maintaining the appearance of a young family out for a moonlit stroll. Sirius had pulled his hair back in a low ponytail and had chosen a preppy Muggle sweater and khakis— a look not only completely unlike a wizard but completely unlike himself. He'd even added a pair of glasses into the mix, throwing Colleen completely for a loop.
"I can't be recognized," Sirius had told her apologetically. "I never know who will be lurking in the corners."
"You actually look really hot in glasses," she'd commented with a wink. "I could get used to that part."
Sirius crouched down with his little family in the hedgerow across from his childhood home, waiting a few minutes for any signs of Order— or worse— Death Eater— activity. He was very aware of the difficulties he may face getting Colleen and Ben inside; the house was protected not only against Muggles finding it, but still under the Fidelius Charm as the headquarters for the Order. Sirius himself wasn't even the rightful owner anymore, with it having passed to Harry in his will. But Dumbledore had made it quite clear Sirius was still a member of the Order, so his own access shouldn't be an issue.
As far as Colleen and Ben, Sirius had to have faith in a old pact he'd made with Dumbledore the night Voldemort had returned. When the head of the Order had asked Sirius to round up all the old members and rally them together, Sirius had offered up 12 Grimmauld Place as headquarters, eager to finally offer something of value after a year on the run. Dumbledore became Secret Keeper of its location, effectively the only individual who could reveal its location to one who didn't already know of it.
Sirius had made this bequest with only one condition— that he be allowed to welcome his own chosen family there someday, if he was ever lucky enough to finally have one. After Azkaban it was his greatest wish, and he'd wanted to plan for it accordingly. Dumbledore had understood, and in his lofty Dumbledore logic, ascertained that Sirius's chosen family would already know the location of his home, deep down. Home, after all, was a very powerful magical concept, and the yearning for and recognition of it quite mystical and instinctual. Sirius had been a bit uncertain about the idea of 'home' in conjunction with Grimmauld Place, but he'd chosen not to argue with Dumbledore since the man had been kind enough to grant his request. Sirius also wasn't sure what constituted a 'family' according to the most advanced protective charms in existence, but they were about to find out.
Just beyond the hedgerow, planted within the cement sidewalk, was a gold circle that resembled some sort of small sewage cover, but it was actually Dumbledore's magical metric by which he would test the worthiness of Sirius's chosen guests. The older wizard had to account for Sirius's bachelor ways and ensure that some fly-by-night affair wouldn't be privy to the Order's most guarded secret.
"I don't see any lights on inside, and we've waited for ten minutes now," Sirius told them in a hushed tone. "No trace of lookouts on the outside either, that I can tell."
"Sirius, all the houses have lights on," Colleen whispered, looking at him like he had lost his mind.
And to her, they did. Muggles couldn't even see Number Twelve, so all she saw were the Muggle neighbors enjoying dinner and evening television in Numbers Eleven and Thirteen.
"Colleen, darling...Benji...come here quickly and step on the gold plate, all right?"
Looking unsure, Colleen took Ben's hand in hers and emerged from the hedgerow, placing her toe on the gold medallion. Sirius helped Ben do the same, then held his breath. Nothing seemed to happen. He frowned and drew his wand. If Dumbledore had given him any further instructions, Sirius didn't recall them. Intuitively it seemed he would need to use something designed to reveal the true nature of the subjects being tested...of their very souls...
"Animos Revelio," he attempted nervously, pointing his wand in the direction of Colleen and her son.
Colleen gasped as she stared in the direction of the row houses across the road.
"Mummy! The houses are moving!" Ben said excitedly.
Sirius grinned. "You're about to see a real magic house, Benji. A wizard's house."
"Is it your house?" Ben grabbed his hand and began pulling him across the road.
"It was," answered Sirius. "Now it belongs to someone very special to me. I hope you'll get to meet him someday."
Colleen grasped Sirius's other hand and squeezed it gently, her blue eyes reassuring. "I'm certain we will."
Sirius couldn't resist drawing her in for a kiss, and he swept her up in his arms, carrying her across the threshold as she dissolved into laughter. Ben darted past them, ready to explore.
"Mudblood urchin! Muggle harlot! Disgrace! Dishonor!"
"Hello, Mother," Sirius returned. "Missed me?"
"Shame upon the Noble House of Black!"
Colleen gazed around, her aqua eyes horrified. Sirius had learned to ignore the house elf heads preserved in jars along the recessed walls, and had even been able to tune out his mother's portrait most of the time while suffering in isolation here for nearly a year. He'd forgotten what a shock the place must be to his shy Muggle partner.
"Sorry about that, love. It's a rather authentic 'haunted house,' as I believe the Muggles say."
"Where's Ben?" Colleen asked, panicked. The boy had already disappeared up the first flight of stairs.
"He will be all right. Everything still here after our cleanup is all talk, no real harm. But why don't you go up and grab him, and I will take you both on a quick tour."
Colleen just blinked at him. "I'm not going upstairs without you!"
Sirius chuckled. "Maybe we need to start on that 'fear-conquering' magic sooner rather than later. Good thing I brought your candle and crystal along." He winked.
"What? Here?"
"Of course here. Making sweet love to a Muggle in this house has always been a fantasy of mine. This might be my only chance."
"Degradation! Abomination!"
"Your mother can hear us?"
"It's her portrait. Nothing to worry about."
Colleen sighed. "Is there any wine here?"
"Downstairs in the kitchen, sweetheart."
"I'm not going by myself!" she repeated. "It's dark and there are cobwebs on everything and eyes watching me! All the pictures MOVE!"
Sirius laughed again and grabbed her elbow, leading her downstairs. "Benji! Let's find something to eat!" he called to the boy.
"The house elf is no longer here; Remus said Harry sent him to work at Hogwarts," Sirius explained apologetically. "Not that the place looked much better when he was here, but there was food at least. I'm sure we can scrounge up something though, since the Order still meets here occasionally."
They managed to find some aged cheese and a rather fresh loaf of bread someone had bought. Colleen settled her nerves a bit with a glass of fine elf-made wine. Sirius hadn't enjoyed that particular vintage since his and Rhiannon's engagement party over a year ago. Watching Colleen and Ben laughing at the table may not be the same kind of high as a house full of music and celebration, but somehow it made Sirius even happier. Just as great as his desire to run away from Grimmauld Place was always the wish that he could make it feel like home. He'd tried so many times over the last year; hopefully this time it would stick.
They made their way to the top floor after their meal, straight to Regulus's bedroom.
Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black, a sign above the door warned ominously. Sirius had to admire his brother's gift of prose; if Sirius had such a sign other than his standard nameplate, it probably would have read: "Get the Fuck Out."
"Do we have permission?" Colleen asked warily.
Sirius nodded. "He told me to make sure the locket was destroyed. I'm assuming that meant 'at all costs.'" Nevertheless, Sirius raised his wand and instructed Colleen and Ben to remain in the hall while he checked the room for dark creatures and enchantments. Colleen held onto Ben for dear life, looking thoroughly regretful of her recent life decisions in that moment.
A rat immediately scurried out, eliciting a shriek from Colleen and a giggle from Ben, but the rat was soon followed by a sleek, medium-sized speckled snake in pursuit of its prey.
"Oh my god!" Colleen grabbed Ben and hurled them
into the only other room on the floor, which happened to be Sirius's.
"Vipera Evanesca," Sirius said resolutely, and the now-transfigured snake vanished into microscopic particles in the air.
"Guess that little guy lived up here the whole time," Sirius mused. "Between him and Buckbeak, no wonder we never saw many rats."
"Who's Buckbeak?" Ben asked, breaking free of his mum's white-knuckled grasp and joining Sirius in his brother's elegant green and silver bedroom.
"My very best friend. For the last couple years, at least. He's a hippogriff— a large, beautiful bird on top and a strong, powerful horse on the bottom. Hippogriffs can fly, holding multiple people on their back. I flew on Buckbeak many times."
"Can we please meet him and fly?" Ben begged.
Sirius knelt down and held Ben's arms. "When you get to Hogwarts someday, I want you to find a gentleman named Hagrid, and tell him you want to meet Buckbeak. Hagrid will take it from there."
"Sirius!" Colleen said sharply.
"Your mum's right. That was very silly of me. We will meet Buckbeak long before you go to Hogwarts. We just have to wait a bit, until some things settle down."
Ben ran deeper into Regulus's room to look around, and Sirius raised his finger to Colleen's perfect rosy pink lips before she could scold him.
"You said you would trust me, love. Remember?"
"About your world, yes, but not about my own son. It's cruel to set his expectations like that, knowing he's only going to be crushed someday."
"How do you know he'll be crushed someday? Many Muggleborn wizards and witches have no idea what they are until their Hogwarts letter arrives. Harry being one of them. It's always possible."
"Sirius, that's absurd."
"It's not, sweetheart."
"You can't talk about it like it's inevitable. I understand you wanting to share your excitement and your memories, but you have to phrase it as a possibility, and a remote one at that."
Sirius agreed to tweak his choice of words a bit going forward. After a kiss to her forehead, they started in on the mission at hand. There were loads of yellow newspaper clippings, all documenting Voldemort's rise; Regulus's Quidditch team photos; and a photo of him with the Slug Club— an elite bunch chosen by then-Potions Master and Slytherin head Horace Slughorn. Colleen and Ben helped go through drawers and cabinets, Sirius keeping an eye on them in case they encountered anything nefarious. Sirius lifted the mattress of the majestic bed that lay beneath the Black family crest, a perfect testament to his brother's role of perfect son. He found a black leatherbound journal there against the bed frame, but no trace of a locket.
"What is 'Toujours Pur?'" Colleen asked, studying the crest above the bed as she dusted her messy hands off on her jeans.
Sirius grimaced as he spat out the words. "Family motto. 'Always pure.'"
"Well, that's not so bad. Being pure is a good thing, right? Moral? Honorable?"
He shook his head sadly and brought a hand up to rub her shoulder. "Not pure like that. Pure like blood. Untainted by Muggles."
"Oh."
Sirius ran a thumb along the solemn line of her mouth and offered a grin. "I'm rather looking forward to being tainted by a Muggle later, if I do say so myself."
"Traitorous. Ungrateful. Dishonorable..."
"Can she really hear every word we say?" Colleen asked, aghast.
"I think that one was just coincidence, love."
Colleen and Ben returned their attention to locket hunting, while Sirius thumbed through the journal. He paused when he saw his own name.
I arrived home for summer holidays today. Both Black brothers boarded the train, but only one returned to Grimmauld Place. I only heard through rumblings in the Great Hall that Sirius would be moving in with the Potters this summer; of course my brother would never feel the need to inform me himself of such a decision. I cannot hold malice toward him; no doubt Sirius hasn't felt any kind of love or affection within these walls for quite some time, if ever. But he never made it easy. Sometimes I think Sirius rebelled against us all just because he could. Not everything about us could be "bad," even in his mind, could it? After all, we all have light and dark inside of us. But Sirius took everything handed down through the Black family— from our motto, to our heirlooms, to our holidays together, to our attempted reconciliations over dinners past, and sent them hurling as fast as they could go in the opposite direction— just because they came from us. Because being different from us was how he defined himself, and now apparently the definition is thoroughly set, as of today.
It is tragic that Sirius would be so gleeful to turn his back on his family home. We should be proud and honored to have a wizarding history and bloodline such as ours. It's noble, revered, pure— the best there is. Yet to Sirius it's a source of shame. I will never understand him, but I wish him well, wherever his wandering spirit may take him.
R.A.B.
Sirius felt a knot forming in his stomach and he didn't like the feeling at all. He'd made that decision decades ago with zero guilt. It was the only way to ensure that he could do it, without looking back. Admittedly, he had never thought for a second how it would affect his younger brother. Regulus always seemed to have everything he needed, so what consequence would Sirius's absence possibly have for him?
Sirius flipped to the end of the journal, deciding that the contents of its final entry may be significant to their current mission.
My heart felt alive today. I visited Diagon Alley to procure a ring for Marguerite. I perused the shelves, looking for the perfect fit; after all, it would take a special ring indeed for a Hufflepuff to be content with something from Borgin and Burkes. I bypassed the flashy serpent creations and instead discovered the perfect adornment for her beautiful finger, sitting upon an old dusty shelf containing things of an astronomical nature. The ring is gold— rather laughable for the Black family, since we always marry with Slytherin silver. But my love is a Hufflepuff, so she shall have gold. The center diamond gleams like a white sun, with six diamond stars surrounding and two gold crescent moons at its flanks. A matching gold wedding band, mine, is encircled with round diamonds and etched gold stars. It may not be a traditional Slytherin ring, but it speaks to love found among the stars, and I hope it will still honor the Black family proudly. I believe I will ask her the question next—
Thus the journal ended, its final entry abruptly cut off by some distraction. Sirius promptly began ransacking the room for the rings. Surely they would have seen them by now if they were here. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to revisit that feeling Snape had helped him call forward that day at Hogwarts last week, seeing if he could use some underlying consciousness to find another hiding spot in the room.
All at once Sirius recalled a small secret door they had discovered as children, back when they used to play together, before they drifted so hopelessly apart. It would be behind the large black armoire now, long since covered. The locket could possibly be there too, but he doubted it, since Kreacher likely didn't even know about this spot. Sirius used magic to move the heavy furniture, then racked his brain for the incantation they used to say to uncover the hidden door in the wall.
"Slithering slug brains," Sirius murmured with a small laugh, and he heard Ben giggle. Sirius saw it instantly. A small black velvet box, with the two rings laying within. He slipped it into the bag he'd brought along for the journey, making a mental note to see whatever became of Hufflepuff Marguerite Mertueil.
No trace of the locket. But he had one more place to check. Before Sirius could usher everyone back downstairs, the sound of a creaking door rose upward along with heavy footsteps from the front hall. Sirius froze and felt his jaw tighten.
"Go into my room and wait," he instructed firmly. "Don't come out until I tell you to."
Sirius heard Colleen's breathing quickly escalate and he purposely avoided her eyes, not sure he could handle the fear that would be there. He gave her the bag he had brought, along with Regulus's journal. He cast a spell on his bedroom door to prevent entry, though he left it so they could escape if the need arose. Then he leapt forward into the hall and transformed into Padfoot.
His paws treaded lightly as he descended the stairs, his body sinewy, calculated, and graceful in its movements. His nose started seeking any trace of a foreign scent and was met with that of heavy tobacco and unwashed body odor. Immediately Padfoot identified the intruder. Fucking Mundungus Fletcher.
Padfoot heard the clanging of metal and the clinking of ceramic; no doubt some of Walburga's fine china and silver suddenly growing legs and burrowing their way into Mundugus's dirty rucksack. If he was in the kitchens, then that meant he was near Kreacher's old cupboard. It was a dark, dingy space under the pipes from which the elf would often emerge grumpily when summoned. Sirius happened to think that if he and the Weasleys had accidentally tossed the locket, Kreacher might have rescued it and stashed it there.
Growling, Padfoot tore down the stairs toward the lowest level, then broke into a deafening, angry bark when he saw Mundungus already back in the entry hall. The man's shifty eyes grew wide and he darted out the door with his pack stuffed to the gills, apparating less than a second before Padfoot's jaws would have closed around his foot. The black dog felt his fur standing up stiffly, his chest heaving. He couldn't care less about losing Black family heirlooms, but possibly missing his chance at the locket and knowing that it was Harry's inheritance the man was pilfering enraged him. He shuffled back inside, hurling the door closed with his nose. He raced down the stairs to see Kreacher's cupboard wide open, no trace of anything of value. Incensed, Padfoot raced back up to the main level. His head jerked up at the winding staircase above him, and he thought of the woman waiting on the top floor. His blood was boiling. And he wanted her.
He would have to transform back before busting in on her. Ben was there, and he would have to un-ward the door as a wizard, with a wand. Thank Merlin for that; he needed a practical obstacle to subdue the beast inside of him, or else he would terrify her. His instincts were growing stronger now that his senses had made her his, and it was currently exacerbated by desperation following his nightmare, failing his brother, and his current anger at the audacious thief. Sirius knew he needed to see Dr. Moody, and soon. He was starting to unravel.