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chapter thirteen;
up on the tree house
The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, bringing the darkness out where she could already see some stars. She remembered her father telling her a story of a thief who managed to steal them and give them to his lover as a gift.
She knew her father would try and steal the sun if he could. But he wouldn't give it to her mother, he'd make sure everyone knew he stole it and he'd bid it off for the highest amount of money he could get—no matter that he didn't need it at all.
Moody was right, her father was a thief, a filthy thief at that—and she was just like him. Just another criminal who stood back and did nothing. She didn't deserve the Order's trust and she sure as hell didn't deserve the Potters. How could she be happy when she'd made others suffer?
Elio's blood-stained lips flashed in her mind, his ashen face, and a tear slipped past her eyes. She briskly wiped it away.
She hadn't had nightmares in days. She hadn't been back in the Consortium since James held her as she slept and she wanted to stay out. But maybe she deserved to go back.
Or maybe it was her mind messing with her again. Convincing her she wasn't worth it, because no matter how happy she was something always nagged at her, whispering menacingly all the insecurities she had.
Sometimes, Amaya hated her mind.
She heard footsteps and someone climbing up the ladder, yet her eyes remained on the horizon. Only one person knew where she was, and if he kept his mouth shut she didn't mind that he stayed. She was sitting on the edge of the half-built tree house the boys had tried to build in their Second Year, and she felt strangely safe. She wished she had grown up with them.
He sat down next to her in silence, passing her a flask of firewhiskey without a word. She took a sip and passed it back before reaching out her hand. Sirius snorted out a laugh as he placed a cigarette on her palm and with a blink it was lit and she took a long-needed drag.
She hadn't smoked in weeks, not feeling the need—right now, she could've smoked a whole pack and it wouldn't be enough to shut off her fucking mind and its destructive tendencies.
"You know," he started, blowing out smoke, "James fell off this house when we were building it. Broke his nose."
Her lips tugged into a small smile and she huffed out the smoke. "That's why it's crooked then?"
"Well, that and countless other times something hit him in the nose."
"I like his nose," Amaya said without thinking, her cheeks flushing and Sirius let out a laugh. She rolled her eyes. "What about yours?"
"My nose is perfect if that's what you're asking."
"If that helps you sleep at night." Her lips tugged as she looked up at him and saw Sirius scowling at her. "How was... the rest of the meeting?"
"You mean after you fled?"
"I left."
"You flew off your chair."
"Stop being dramatic."
Sirius let out a laugh and shrugged. "James was after you the moment it was over, didn't even wait to hear what his mission would be." He looked at her with a sly smile and Amaya rolled her eyes despite her stomach fluttering. "He must've been too slow 'cause he didn't find you."
"Yeah..." Amaya shrugged. "He doesn't know I come here."
Sirius grinned like a fool. "So, this is like our secret spot, love? I'm flattered. We should have a password and everything for who's allowed here. You know, you should put up wards that let anyone who knows it through."
"And what would the password be, amor? Stagging Queen?"
Sirius burst out laughing, a bark-like laugh that made her chuckle as he bumped into her shoulder. "He showed you the tattoo?"
"I made him show me."
"Of course you did."
"So? What happened after James left? Do you know your missions?"
Sirius nodded. "We were told not to mention details but all of us shared ours. Remus is going away come October. Dumbledore wants him to try and befriend the werewolves to bring them to our side. He'll be preparing until then. Lily is actually going with him. Of course not to the werewolf communities but she's staying in a town nearby—they pulled some strings in St. Mungo's and she's going on some sort of training to be a Healer. Really, she'll just keep an eye on Remus."
"What about you? And James?"
"We were paired up. We leave in a few weeks, Dumbledore wants us to get some muggleborn families out of the country, nothing too dangerous. We'll be checking on them and we have a date planned with a boat that will take them to France. We're taking them. Moody said it will be a field trip for Auror Training."
"You're leaving?" Amaya asked, her voice small and she hated how pathetic she sounded. When she looked up at Sirius he nodded with a smile verging on a grimace.
"Only for a few days. We have to get the families settled and make sure there's no trouble. We'll be back before you know it."
"I, don't worry about me. I'm happy you finally have your mission." And when she smiled at him she meant it. Only something else popped into her head. "What about Pettigrew?"
"Dumbledore said in a couple of weeks there'll be an important exchange with a foreign ally. We have no idea what it will be but Peter's in charge of it. He'll get the location a few days prior and make the exchange."
"That's... interesting." She frowned as she took a drag, looking into the horizon and wondering what in the bloody hell Dumbledore planned to catch the little rat. The only thing that made sense in her head was that the item to be exchanged was absolute bullshit and it was a trap. Not the best one, but it would have to do.
They were silent for a moment before Sirius spoke, a whisper into the wind, a leap of faith, changing the topic to the one she was trying to stay away from. The past.
"Remember when I told you about my mother?"
"Your bother?"
He nodded.
"Yeah, I remember." She flicked the butt of the cigarette. "I'm gonna go on a limb and say she wasn't fucking rainbows and sunshine."
He let out a harsh chuckle, taking a sip of the flask. "I... My mother used to Crucio me if I breathed too loudly. She wanted me to be the perfect Black heir and... well, when that didn't work she figured she could torture sense into me."
Amaya didn't answer, just took the flask for him and took a sip, letting the wind and the rustling of the trees around them fill the silence.
At last, she spoke. "I... My father is Goldsaint, if you haven't figured it out by now. He wanted me to be like him. A thief, a weapon, he wanted me to be... without failure. He thought he could train me to become immune to frivolous curses like the Cruciatus."
It was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders as she spoke the words aloud and Sirius remained quiet, listening.
"He didn't even like enchantments, not really. He found wands useful but they were not more a tool than his muggle lock picks. But he was fascinated by the Unforgivables and he wanted immunity. It turns out no matter how many times you crucio someone the pain only gets stronger."
"We're not our parents," Sirius spoke as he vanished the ends of their cigarettes, putting an arm around her shoulders and she let her head fall on his shoulder. "No matter what people say, what matters isn't blood, it's the choices we make."
"What if I made the wrong choice, Sirius?"
"What choice was that?"
And so she told him. She told him about her mother, about muggle-borns in Spain, she told him how she'd tried to help them and that ended with Elio dead and her being carted off from Spain, deemed a criminal. She didn't tell him the full story, not trusting herself to stay strong through it, but even then, by the end, she was crying softly, and his arms were wrapped around her tightly.
"You were trying to help, Maya," Sirius whispered, "It wasn't your fault."
"I'm a criminal."
"You're not. They're the criminals for doing what they do to muggleborns."
"My mother exiled me, Sirius. She... She wouldn't even look me in the eye; I was nothing but an abomination in her eyes, just another part of my father that she couldn't get rid of, the only soul on this earth she wanted nothing to do with. I'm not worthy of this family, just like I wasn't worthy of mine."
He let out a laugh, a hearted laugh that made her let out a giggle. He held her tighter. "I said that to Mum two years ago. I mean we have the same lives, Maya, we're practically twins."
She snorted out a laugh. "I wish you were my brother. Reggie seems to like you."
"He adores me. And for all intents and purposes I am," he said easily, "You already annoy me like a little sister, anyway."
She pulled away from him with a scowl. "I'm a few months younger, that hardly qualifies—"
"But you're a head shorter," he cut her off and when she looked up at him he was grinning. "Anyway, I know how it feels, not to feel worthy of them, the Potters, of everyone really. But one thing they taught me was that being part of this family isn't something we need to earn. It's unconditional. We have no choice in the matter."
"James said something similar."
"Wise one that Prongs." He sobered up slightly and nudged her with his elbow, "You should talk to him. Tell him what you told me."
"I don't think I can. What if... What if he hates me? I lied about my father, I didn't tell you why I was sent here. And I know you said I'm not but I am a criminal—"
"If you think a little criminal record is going to deter James then you don't know him. Besides, he's a marauder, it would be highly hypocritical of him to condemn you for a couple of broken stupid rules."
"I'm glad I met you, Pads," she admitted as the last sunray disappeared, and Sirius bumped her shoulder with his.
"Glad I met you, too, kitten."
"Hate that nickname, though."
"Good to know, kitten."
"God, you had to ruin the moment didn't you?"
"I'm a bit rusty on the whole brotherly act but I used to ruin all sorts of moments with Reggie too. It's my duty as an older brother."
"A few months, Sirius. That's our age difference."
"Best few months of my life."
"We only met not long ago."
"Shh. Don't ruin the sibling love," he said, putting a hand over her mouth and yelping with a grimace when she licked him.
When Amaya got back to the Manor with Sirius, she found Fleamont and Euphemia sitting in the living room, and the moment they sat eyes on her both of them stood up; she blinked and Euphemia was hugging her tightly, Fleamont hugging them both.
"We were so worried about you," Euphemia said as they pulled away, grabbing her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Mia."
"Then what were you thinking?" asked Fleamont sternly and Amaya blushed in embarrassment. "You can't just run off, Amaya, there's people after you."
"I stayed within the grounds."
Fleamont held her eyes for a moment before nodding, a small smile tugging on his lips. "Good. We're glad you're safe."
"I'm sorry," Amaya whispered looking at the couple who'd become more of parents to her than her own. "I should've told you everything."
"Amaya, we knew from the beginning—"
She shook her head at Euphemia. "You didn't know about my father."
"Darling, we hardly care what your father did for a living," said Euphemia. "We only care what you choose to do. And we know what put you in trouble was your generous heart, Amaya. We made sure that little bastard Alastor knew that."
"This changes nothing," added Fleamont.
"Really?"
"Of course, darling. You're family."
Amaya briskly wiped a tear away and smiled at the older couple. And then she looked around and frowned at the person missing.
"He's in his room," said Fleamont gently. "Came back the moment Sirius said he found you."
"Came back?"
Euphemia smiled. "He was out looking for you."
Amaya's heart flipped in her chest and thanking them, she slipped out of the living room and hurried to James' room.
Amaya slipped inside his bedroom where he was standing by his dresser, buttoning his pants, his hair still wet from the shower. He went to grab a shirt even when he heard her walking in and trying not to pay attention to that fact, Amaya stepped behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she hugged him. His muscles bunched up for a moment before he relaxed with a sigh, and Amaya pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I lied."
James took a deep breath before he shook his head, detangling himself from her as he put on his shirt, before looking at her, his eyes shining with emotions. "I'm not mad, love."
"You're not?" She frowned. "I lied to you. About me. About my father. Goldsaint. I, I get it if you're mad. You should be mad—"
He cut her off with a soft kiss, and instinctively Maya held onto his shirt, raising herself to her tiptoes. He pulled away too quickly though, and Amaya could only frown up at him, as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He still didn't speak though, looking at her as if he wanted to say something and yet had no idea how to.
"Please say something."
"I know you have secrets, I'm not naive," he said with his lips set in a straight line. "I knew that before and I still know it now. So, no, I'm not mad. I'm pissed at Moody. That fucking prick—And yeah, perhaps I'm mad at you, but only because you just ran away, Maya—" He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. "—I was fucking worried when you disappeared. And then I couldn't find you but Sirius did and I... And I might be jealous that Sirius is the one you go to, but I get that. Because you guys have this weird bond that's different."
"But?"
James shrugged. "I just wish that someday you'll trust me enough to tell me your secrets and know that I'll keep them safe."
"I do trust you, James." Amaya shrugged helplessly.
"Why did you lie then?" he asked and he seemed genuinely curious, his tone was the furthest thing away from accusation. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Amaya shrugged again. "I, it's stupid."
"Tell me."
"I thought, I thought you'd hate me."
At that point, James only smiled. "Hate you?"
She was in the process of nodding when he swooped down, claiming her lips as he kissed her deeply. He tugged her by the hips, closer to him, and Amaya's hands slipped into his hair, smelling fresh from the shampoo and still damp.
His hands fell to the back of her thighs and with one squeeze, Amaya got the message, jumping as she wrapped her legs around him, and he held her up by her arse, before turning around and making her seat on the dresser.
He stopped the kiss from its frantic pace, slowing it down until she was driven to madness as he gently let her know what he thought about her assumption he'd hate her. And throughout his hands remained on her thighs, over her jeans, his thumbs lazily circling her inner thighs.
When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. "I couldn't hate you," he said hoarsely.
"I still haven't told you anything yet, James."
A mischievous smile grew on his face. "Want to bet?"
"Bet on whether you'll hate me?"
He nodded, leaning in and brushing his lips against hers. "I win if I still l—like you. You win if I don't. And when I win, all you have to do is stay. Don't run or push me away anymore, no matter how much your brain tells you you're unworthy of being happy."
"And if I win?" she said weakly and he rolled his eyes at her.
"You won't. But if you do, which is impossible mind you, just kiss me real good and I'll fall for you again. You'll see."
Amaya let out a laugh and pulled him down to her, showing him her gratitude as she kissed him with all her soul. James pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, and nodded.
"Just like that."
She couldn't help but smile. "You're easy to persuade."
"When it comes to you, I am."
"Good to know." Her smile faltered as she kept staring at him and she took a deep breath preparing herself to finally tell him everything.
Screw keeping everything hidden.
She trusted James and if she was wrong about that the only thing she had to lose was him.
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