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Summary:

Two months post-Hogwarts, Sirius feels like his life is mostly together. He's started his HIT apprenticeship at the DMLE and gets to see James almost everyday. Sure, his father is dead and his mother is still a harpy but he has Remus and a good relationship with his surly, baby brother.

Until he doesn't.

It sort of goes downhill from there.

Notes:

GAH. At long last, I have put words to documents. Let's gooooooo.

TWs, graphic depictions of disownment (it is violent and unpleasant), blood, infidelity revelation, revenge plot revelation, general cracked behavior, general despair

- Sirius' no good very bad day
- Realizing things were, in fact, Not Okay ™
- Standing on business
- Sirius' Classic Running Away to a Potter
- Sirius "omg so embarassing" vs James "Shut the" vs Hadrian "fuck up"
- James "Can we get a dog" Potter vs Hadrian "...alright" Potter
- Hadrian is the Mother Friend ™

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: The Depiction of a Homicide

Chapter Text

Sirius thinks he hates summer. 

Despite how much he loves the sun, basking in it’s overflowing warmth even though his skin can’t really tolerate it. But that’s fine, that’s okay because there is so much laughter in the summer compared to the other seasons; beach trips, road trips, Effie’s basil lemonade, bird watching with Monty. But summer just never seems to favor him back. 

And this is the second summer to be complete, utter shit.

Sirius hears them, their voices, Remus’, Regulus’ but he just can’t understand any of it. His thoughts are chaotic, jumbled, and there is an aching crest that tears at his soul so savagely he can barely breathe. Sirius sits on the edge of Remus’ bed, motorcycle keys dangling precariously on his index finger. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, sitting here, in this room, while Remus and Regulus remain trapped on the other end.

It was the end of his first week with Roderick Crowe and the Brigade, second division Hit Wizards. How excited he was to leave this morning just for work, even made Remus breakfast knowing his boyfriend wouldn’t be stumbling out of bed until long, long after Sirius left at 5am because he had an off day and they were going to spend the entire weekend doing jack shit because the moon was next wednesday. It had felt like a normal day when he left, how Remus wrinkled his nose in his sleep with that familiar sleepy pout on his lips when Sirius kissed him goodbye, how he grabbed his wrist when he went to leave and asked for another and another. 

Are you staying over tonight, Remus had asked.

If you want, Sirius had answered.

I always want you here.

Sirius doesn’t know what to do. What to say. What to feel. 

Sirius sits on the edge of Remus’ bed, the one he sometimes shares with his boyfriend of almost a year and is struggling pick through what the fuck he just witnessed. There was Remus, his Moony, his boyfriend of almost a year, standing against the kitchen island. His tawny hair in disarray, fluffy with tufts and wisps of curls that spread haphazardly throughout, reading glasses skewed on his features making him seem so soft and Sirius would coo and smile and wrap him in a tight hug if it were any other day.

Then there was Regulus. His brother was here. Regulus was here, flush faced and panting, his mouth red, puffy and glistening with saliva. His usually immaculate hair was disheveled. His clothes were immaculate and pressed as they always were but Sirius could see the hickies on his neck, the ones that poked out of the collar of his shirt; fresh and prominent. They hadn’t even heard Sirius enter over their heated arguing. Regulus’ voice was sharp, laced with frustration against Remus’ soft placation. And then it happened.

A kiss. A hard, desperate kiss where Remus had cradled Regulus’ jaw so gently in his hands and Regulus melted against him and bitter, hot rage swept through Sirius’ entire body. How startled they were when they finally noticed him.

Sirius doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he should do. Scream. Cry. Break everything fucking thing in this fucking apartment. But he can’t. Sirius doesn’t even know how he made it to this room, barely remembers moving from where he stood in the foyer with a bag of take out balanced precariously in his other, additional bags of chocolate and rented movies and Remus’ favorite, disgusting cherry cobbler tangled in his fingers. None of it made sense.

He wonders how long this has been happening, in this apartment that he sometimes shares with his boyfriend of almost a year. Sirius sits there, brimming and building and he aches. He had really thought that Regulus wanted to be in his life, be together after their painful talk last November. Sirius has barely been out of Hogwarts for two months, he’s barely seen  this apartment for two months and it’s all gone to shit. Is this how a burning bridge feels when the support beams finally collapse? Sirius wonders if this is what people in those trashy novels feel like.  

Sirius looks down at his hands, the rings on his finger, the fresh, little scars that came from training because he had fucked up his defense. Dorcas had offered to heal them but Sirius disagreed, pain is a reminder of mistakes, of failure. Sirius looks to the tightly closed bedroom door. His heart aches. He can’t stay here, doesn’t want to hear what either of them had to say. Sirius can vaguely hear his name, a panicked sort of desperation that doesn’t quite make sense. He turns back to his hands, clenches his fist and rises to his feet. 

Sirius heads to the door, flicks his hand to dismiss the heavy lock he slammed on it, and works the second key to Remus’ apartment off his key ring. Stupid to have a key, Sirius had said. I can just apparate in and out. Remus’ lips had quirked in that sweet, shy way it did and simply said, so you’ll remember you have a place to call home when you don’t want to be alone. But Remus isn’t smiling now, his face flushed in his distress but there is a finality in his gaze. Sirius shoves past him, pushing the key hard into his chest and flicks a cool gaze to Regulus, who remains stuck and seething where he stands beside the kitchen island, exactly where Sirius had left him.

“Can we talk?” Remus starts, stumbling to catch the key, and isn’t that some bullshit.

“No.” Sirius states evenly. His hands shake but he feels so, so numb. He swipes his jacket from the foyer and shrugs into it, grinding his teeth hard as if it could prevent the way his mouth trembles in despair. Sirius has his wallet, that really weird endless bag James’ brother had gotten him for Christmas currently containing all of Sirius’ shit and uniform, wand? On my wrist, Sirius thinks absently then frowns. That’s it. He didn’t want anything else, left everything Remus had given him on the floor in his bedroom.

God. This sucks.

“Sirius.” Remus grabs Sirius’ forearm and Sirius rears on him sharply, wand pressed hard into his jaw. Remus swallows, thick and audible. Sirius stares at him for a long moment, heart twisted in bitter agony and his eyes burn hot and wet. He lets go. Sirius steps away from him, wand still drawn. He doesn’t look at Regulus because it hurts to but it also hurts to look at Remus. Sirius wants to leave. He wants to leave. What is there to talk about?

“What is there to talk about, Remus?” Sirius asks. His voice sounds far, far away. “You went behind my back. I don’t care to know why.”

“Because you’re so innocent in this situation.” Regulus snaps. “You left me behind. You left Remus behind. You only ever think about yourself!” 

Remus looks at Regulus then, silent, shoulders squared as his expression hardens with bitter resolve. It feels so surreal, this conversation with these two people standing before him and he doesn’t know how to stop it. The hurt that wells inside him is hot with stomach acid and grief. 

“You never even noticed. So wrapped up in yourself as you always are.” Regulus laughs. It sounds deranged and terrible and wrong. “We’ve been together since you abandoned me. For being third in your entire year, you are an idiot, big brother. Remus didn’t speak to you for an entire year. Then he suddenly starts to? Such a strange coincidence seeing as I decided to acknowledge you again a short while after.”

Remus stiffens in front of him and at long last, there is regret in his face

Sirius inhales slowly and a dawning crests through him. It had felt unexpected. Every inch of him had protested, had said to be cautious. But Sirius hadn’t cared. He had Remus back. He had his brother back. His brother who had hickies on his neck, who stares at him with that haughty, dark flicker of glee. Sirius should’ve expected this. Bella always did say that Regulus was more like Cissa than she was, that he really didn’t know whose monster he housed. Sirius hadn’t understood then, like he hadn’t understood that he and Bellatrix were anomalies, searching for freedom on different sides of a spectrum.

Regulus had taken their mother, the heirship as he felt he deserved, and still, he took more, demanded more. 

Sirius just hadn’t expected Remus. He should’ve known. That mean streak you have is a mile long, Lupin, Mary had laughed once. 

This was a punishment.

“You never forgave me,” Sirius says, dull, empty. He can feel his heart shatter inside him but his voice doesn’t waiver, it doesn’t tremble. There’s no reason to defend himself. It’s done. He doesn’t care, barely understands how he’s still standing here and maybe he’s hoping, waiting, for Remus to tell him this is some grand prank but Remus just stares at him, stares and stares and stares. 

Remus says nothing.

Sirius laughs. He can’t help it. If he doesn’t, he’ll start sobbing. Sirius groveled for months, injuries and all and the only one who would talk to him was James with his ugly pity. He knows what he did was wrong, he did a terrible, awful thing. Sirius doesn’t know why he ever thought he’d be enough for Remus Lupin, the man he begged for, the relationship he begged for, after what he did. This was a punishment. It had to have been. Sirius had no other reason to think otherwise. How he fractured his friends with Snape but somehow they had come to an accord, an understanding and wasn’t that the strangest thing being chummy with Snape while his own friends, his own family, couldn’t stand him. He should’ve known.

How long he spent, agonized over his decision to leave Grimmauld, how much he had wept over it. Their mother was going to kill him. It had taken him months to recover even with fucking magic. He had to start the term late. Would he have been satisfied then with him dead and rotting in the ground? How long have they hated him this much? This was a punishment.

It didn’t matter how hard he worked to be anything but himself, didn’t matter what strides he had made. Sirius Black just wasn’t enough.

He wanted to blame Remus but his heart ached at the suggestion.

He wanted to blame Regulus but, god, how terrible it tasted in his throat.

And Sirius deserved it.

Sirius swallows. “Does James know?”

Remus slowly shakes his head. 

“Peter knows.” It's not a question.

Remus nods. 

Sirius nods. “Ok. Sorry for the mess. I’m going to go.”

Regulus’ face twists into an ugly sneer. “You think that’s it? That you can just walk away? Again? I am your-”

“You're nothing to me.” Sirius interrupts, looking at Regulus, watching those gray eyes burn and burn with so much hatred. He really, really should’ve known. “You’ve made that clear. You aren’t Orion. And I won’t bow to you.”

Regulus’ nostrils flare. He tries to move but his body won’t budge from the floor. “Father is dead or has your time pretending caused your memory to weaken?”

Sirius does not tell Regulus that he was in the room when their father did pass, his father’s hand so, so tight in his until it went slack. How those silver eyes looked at him with such warmth in that moment, so weak and so, so full of bitter regret before they turned glossy and empty. Sirius’ lips twitch upward and he relishes in the shocked outrage that overtakes Regulus’ face. Papa was gone and Grimmauld was rank with his loss, Sirius was almost a ghost with his own. He felt the family magic shatter in that quiet, awful moment until it reformed like a pulsing wound. His father was a bastard but he was his father.

Sirius takes one last look at Remus, how sullen he appears and quiet. So strange. That silence. But Remus had always been quiet in his anger, hadn’t he.

“Fine.” Regulus’ voice brings Sirius back to him. “You are nothing to me. You will have nothing. You will have no one. Worthless as our mother always said and certainly not worthy to be a Black. A name you never deserved.

Remus’ head snaps to Regulus, appearing ashen. “What are you doing, Reg?”

“Let it be known, Sirius Orion Black. From this day forward, you are no son of the House of Black. You are nothing.”

Sirius will never know how he responded, if he responded, just felt the air sizzle and spark like an invisible thread had snapped violently inside him. His magic is searing hot under his skin. He grabs at it tightly even as it wails and screams in despair. He grinds his teeth, tastes the blood in his mouth, throat coated in hot, sickly bile. Sirius can feel his family reaching back, struggling to grab onto him, his magic, and he can feel them, their dead, his dead and how they scramble and reach and fuck, Sirius has missed them. It's like wading through thick sludge, trying to grasp them back, to tell them he’s sorry but he can’t stay, he can’t, he can’t and still they cling to him.

Sirius chokes up blackish, sticky blood and it spills down his chin. His fingers come back smeared with darkened red after he touches his face. Remus is reaching for him, so scared, frightened and Sirius stumbles away from him, crashing hard to the ground with a garbled scream. Every hair on his body rises like static, like an overwhelming swell of violent grief and agony. His entire body trembles in frantic pain. 

A hand lays on his shoulder and he flinches away, clawing at the floor weakly. His skin is so warm, so, so warm and it sizzles and burns and the most pathetic noise escapes his lips. It's the worst pain he’s ever experienced, worse than when Walburga tried to rip his magic from his very atoms. Sirius can feel them leave, his family, his dead, how it feels like he’s been torn asunder and already he mourns them again. His father is the last, wedging so deep inside his soul it wails in response. Sirius clutches him, even though it hurts, even though it burns and writhes and shatters something inside him so completely. Then there is, suddenly, an ugly, terrible snarl that sounds in his very being, followed by the musical chirp of a songbird, the withering kaw of a raven. 

There are so many voices in his mind right now, so scrambled and jumbled and Sirius begs them to take him from here.The floor warms beneath him, slick and bubbling and Sirius manages to lift his head, catches a glimpse of crazed, panicked hurt on Regulus’ face, how Remus’ mouth moves quickly but there are no words, no words at all. He meets that chilly gaze head on, that hatred, and wonders just how long Regulus Black has truly, truly hated him, how long he’s failed him. Failed them both.

I’m sorry, he wants to say.

Sirius melts through the floor. 

The world around him roars back to life.

“Sirius! Sirius!” A voice rings out. There are hands on him, rolling him onto his side. Sirius forces his eyes open, feeling drowsy and retched. He chokes, blood spilling from his lips, and blinks at the familiar stretch of rug beneath him. His housewarming gift because James liked rugs and Hadrian liked geometrical shapes. Sirius traces the circles absently, mind a fractured, empty space. He can smell the heady aroma of James’ cologne, the twinkling sound of windchimes. Sirius doesn’t know how he got here, in this house but his relief is great. 

Tears spill from his eyes. God, it was really over.

“Oh, Pads. I’m here.” James’ face is so strange right now, so wild and panicked and he gathers Sirius tight in his arms. Sirius can barely move, teeth grinding together, and when he gets his arms around James’ neck, he breaks. He can’t stop, he can’t stop. Sirius can’t hear anything at all. He spills out, he spills out miraculously and everything hurts.

Remus’ voice is in his head, saying he loves him, saying we’ll always be together, together, together. Then there is Regulus, small, a child peering up at the constellations with his head on Sirius’ shoulder asking what about that star, this one, what’s that, what’s that until their voices run together like a cacophony of white noise. God, everything was over. No brother, no family. Is this what devastation felt like? True heartbreak?

It feels like he’s screaming, he must be screaming.

James rubs his back soothingly, quiet and stoney and so unlike him that it nearly shatters him to pieces, the usual vibrant, buzzing warmth of his magic has turned scorching. He holds Sirius tight even though he’s covered in blood, tight enough that he feels it in his soul, his very being. James slips an arm under his knees, lifting him like he weighs nothing.

“C’mon. Let’s get you a shower, my sweet, baby Pads.” 

James does not leave the bathroom, chattering aimlessly about his training instructor like Sirius hadn’t seen him at the Ministry today. He knows James had training this morning, saw him at the DLE and they shared a chocolate croissant that was terrible and gross but still, Sirius listens, listlessly watching the water run sickly black then red then clear. His breath hitches. It felt like leaving Grimmauld all over again. Regulus’ bitter, crestfallen expression. How funny that everything blew up in his face once again.

Sirius sinks to the tub, knees pressed tight to his chest. He whimpers. James whips the shower curtain open and kneels beside the tub. He grabs Sirius’ hand. Sirius clutches him back tightly. He doesn’t know how long they sit there.

James shoves Sirius into the softest pair of clothes once he’s dragged out the shower, drying his hair with a fuzzy towel like he does when it's Padfoot's bathtime. James kneels between his legs, hazel eyes so concerned and warm and Sirius’ mouth twists. He tells him everything, about Remus, Regulus. It would be amusing, in any other situation, seeing how red James Potter turns in righteous fury.

“What else happened?” James urges.

“Regulus disowned me.” Sirius whispers.

“You’re fucking kidding me! If either of them shows their fucking face here, I will deck them.” James snarls, seething.

“Who are we decking?” A dry voice rings out, revealing one Hadrian Potter, whose head pokes into the bathroom. “Oh, Sirius. Are you here for-” He frowns deeply. 

His eyes are heavy and tired, narrowing slightly as he assesses them. Sirius almost forgot they lived together until he saw the rug. Well, it was more like James moved in and Hadrian didn’t argue, just shrugged and said he had room when their parent’s started chastising James for not even asking. Hadrian’s gaze is hard on Sirius’ face and he steps into the bathroom completely, jaw working. 

Sirius hadn’t seen him this week because Crowe said he was on vacation. He looks the same but there is a new scar along his throat and chin that breaks into his bottom lip, left eyebrow split directly in the center where a small, raised set of discolored skin rests. Where James favors Monty heavily, all ivory skin and hazel, Hadrian took after Effie, golden tan, and assessing, pale green eyes. He had her narrow jaw but Monty’s dimples while James had her stunning smile. 

Sirius immediately feels embarrassed. “Shit. Uhm, I thought you were on vacation?”

Hadrian’s eyes narrow dangerously. The temperature in the room drops sharply. “What the fuck happened?”

“He said Regulus disowned him.” James tells him. “But that doesn’t explain…”

“No.” Hadrian inclines his head. “What else happened, Sirius?”

Sirius swallows thickly. “Uhm. Remus broke up with me?”

“That wouldn’t change your appearance.” Hadrian comments idly. “Neither should disownment.”

James makes an agreeing noise. “His recovery isn’t normal either. Argumentatively, he shouldn’t be talking or moving. He fucking materialized through the floor. It scared the shit out of me. I spilt my cereal. Oh. I did that. Sorry. I’ll clean it up, I swear.”

Hadrian flicks a dismissive hand. “I dealt with it.”

“Wait. What do I look like?” Sirius whimpers, confused, aching and god, he hates the summer. “Oh my god, am I ugly?”

“Priorities.” Hadrian mutters.

“Oh no, Pads. You’re still so handsome. The most handsome!” James assures him, grasping his face. “Well, pretty. I don’t know. I have conflicted feelings right now but you look great.”

“Like… gay feelings?” Sirius asks dumbly. 

“Quit trying to seduce me, you big cur.” James huffs, dragging Sirius to his feet. He guides him in front of the bathroom mirror. Sirius does a double take, furiously wiping the mirror and stares and stares and stares. He honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry because, to him, he looks almost, almost the same but he no longer favors Walburga at all. If anything, he could see Orion more clearly. His jaw is defined just a touch sharper, more angular, skin pale but now almost luminescent. His hair was still very much his father’s texture, wild and rampant, as it dips past his collarbones but now the strangest shade of rich, blackish silver. His eyes are deeper, still his father’s but with strokes of violet. 

Whose eyes are these, he thinks.

Sirius nearly cries; he's so overwhelmed. “Fuck. I need reassurance. Am I ugly?”

“No.” Hadrian states bluntly.

James makes an offended noise, shaking his head. “Absolutely not!” 

What a mess. “Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother-”

“Psh, shut up.” James huffs. “You will stay here. Or I will mold you into these beautiful, mahogany hardwood floors myself. You will make a great addition. I will even make you the best spaghetti.” 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Hadrian says at the same time. He sends James a look. “You mean, I’ll make spaghetti. You can’t fucking cook.”

James perks up. “Why learn when I have the best Haz to make food for me? Even better than Mipsy.”

Hadrian sighs deeply but he looks pleased, turning on his heel to leave. “Be silent or I will not make you garlic bread, little brother. Show Sirius his room.”

James gasps, making a zipping motion. He grins at Sirius. “We literally just finished painting it yesterday. It looks great.”

Sirius blinks. “What room?”

James blinks, innocent. “What?”

“Prongs.”

“Padfoot.”

Sirius makes a helpless noise. “What room?”

James hooks an arm around his shoulders. “Bffs always get a room. Cassie has one so why not you?” 

“Does Cas not live here?” Sirius asks, perplexed, because he’s seen her here, often, without Marlene, without Hadrian.

“No. Silly.” James laughs. “Hadrian said besties get rooms. Duh. Our parents have a room here.”

Sirius whimpers. “Wait-”

“Hush or I will not share Hazza’s delicious garlic bread with you.” James chirps, directing Sirius out of the bathroom. He marches Sirius to the second floor, where there is, in fact, a freshly painted room waiting. It doesn’t resemble the one he has in Potter Manor but the walls are a rich, stormy gray with a bed tucked right into the corner how he likes it, covered in a soft, white velvet duvet. There’s even a lofted area with a spiral staircase. Sirius sends James a look, who blinks innocently at him. 

“I have Alphie's flat, Jay.” Sirius reminds him, setting his bag and dirty clothes on the floor.

James raspberries. “You hate that place because it's too big, which is why you’re always here. Rent or whatever, they call it. Haz doesn’t care.”

Sirius didn’t enjoy imposing on Hadrian Potter’s life. They had a strange relationship. He was so aloof in comparison to James but would have Fleamont roaring with laughter often, would wear matching holiday sweaters with Effie even after telling her he was too old for such fanfare and didn’t seem to care that the Potters had essentially adopted a Black into their home. James was also incredibly fond of his older brother and would regale Sirius with tales and tales of his brother’s tasks. He was the reason James wanted to be an Auror. “Two Potters in the DLE but on both sides! Me, a super, cool cop. My brother, super, cool secret hitman. Oh, Pads, you have to join! A trifecta!” 

But Sirius didn’t really know him well despite how much time he spent with the Potters. Hadrian was gone often for work and Sirius never really learned what Hadrian’s specialty was on the Brigade, just that he was good at it, according to James’ parents, according to their coworkers. They knew of each other but hadn’t even officially met until Sirius ran away from home and wasn’t that already a spectacle. It was embarassing, collapsing right at the edge of Potter Manor, his back a shredded mess, legs mangled and broken and bleeding and he was barely coherent. Hadrian had just appeared at the edge of the wards, still in uniform. He didn’t even ask questions, just swept Sirius into his arms, blood and all.

“If that’s ok.” Sirius says nervously. He really didn’t want to go back to his flat but he would not be a burden, especially to James’ older brother when he bothers the Potters enough. "I have to get my bike from Moo-Remus'."

“It’s fine. We’ll get your shit tomorrow.” Hadrian’s voice startles them both. “If you try paying rent, I’ll set you on fire.”

“It’s true.” James says solemnly. “I got singed, berated, and chastised. So I just buy groceries but you have to be careful because Haz can get weird about that.”

“I do no such thing.” Hadrian sniffs. “You buy shit you don’t like, don’t eat it, then pout until I make you something.”

“Oh. My bad.” James pouts.

“Don’t be an idiot. I don’t mind or care.” Hadrian dismisses easily and James blushes. “Food is done. You look like you’re about to fall over. Did you even eat today?” 

Sirius blinks, realizing Hadrian is asking him. “Oh. Uhm.”

“Heaven’s help me.” Hadrian sighs.

James balks. “You didn’t? Was that croissant it? You didn’t even eat it! Sirius, we have talked about this. You need food for energy. What if you collapsed in training?”

“Sorry.” Sirius mutters, chastised. 

“Be sorry after you eat!” James admonishes heatedly. 

Sirius isn’t even allowed to make his own plate. It’s so much food that it makes his stomach twist in discomfort but he does eat because the weight of two, heavy Potter stares is eerie and overwhelming. A bird chooses this moment to swoop into the Potter’s dining room so strange in color that Sirius does a double take. It looks like a raven physically but its feathers are white with splotches of black breaking along its chest and entangling with the white of its tail. There’s a letter in its talons, specifically a letter including the golden seal representing Gringotts. It gently lays it beside Sirius’ plate, fluttering its wings and he slowly extends his hand to it. 

The raven settles on his outstretched fingers, beady eyes unnerving and assessing and stares at him for a long moment then makes a rough kraw noise, dips its head, and takes off out the room.

Sirius blinks. 

James chokes on his drink.

“What the fuck.” Hadrian says succinctly.

Sirius manages to get the letter between trembling fingers and nearly incinerates it. His mind is so frazzled and broken that it feels like a miracle he’s still coherent. It reads ‘Lord le Fay’ in neat, elegant scrawl. He’s so confused because he was sure that family lineage had long been dead. What a miserable summer. Sirius pushes the letter away, scrubbing his face roughly as he braces against the table. He feels like crying but his body is drained and empty. Sirius sniffles, lips trembling. His breath hitches. God, he really fucked it all up again.

The front door slams shut, startling him. He looks up to see one fiery, furious Marlene McKinnon storming into the dining room entryway, blond hair tied into a high ponytail. She’s still dressed in the robes for her internship. Dorcas is right behind her, smile serene and stunning.

“Oh, thank fuck, you’re here. I went by your stupid apartment. I cannot believe what I’ve heard. If I see Lupin, I will punch the shit out of him.” Marlene snarls and Sirius, understandably cowed, nods rapidly. Her face softens completely and she rushes to him, sweeping Sirius out of his seat and into a tight hug. “Oh, Siri.”

"It's fine." Sirius forces a laugh but Marlene just holds him tighter.

“Have a seat.” Hadrian says blandly. “Spaghetti?”

“You even have your own garlic bread, Cassie.” James chirps. “It’s like he knew you’d be here.”

Dorcas lifts a delicate eyebrow and sends Hadrian a sweet smile. “Playing favorites, Potter?”

Hadrian sighs deeply. 

Marlene squeezes Sirius tightly. “We came as soon as I got off- le Fay? Who is Lord le Fay? Whose letter is this?”

All eyes snap to them. James drops his fork. “What did you say?”

“It’s Sirius’ letter.” Hadrian says slowly, frowning.

“Sirius is Lord le Fay?” Dorcas asks.

Sirius manages a whimper, tucking his face into Marlene’s neck.

Chapter 2: Acknowledgements

Summary:

A few answers. Almost none of them are good.

Notes:

Whew meant to get this out earlier but dealing with some deaths in the family. My b. Anywhoooo

Tws, references to Walburga's A+ parenting & Siri running away, general despair, references to severe injury, references to behavior modification?... uhm. That's it? I think.

- Sirius running from his problems (literally)
- Odd Hour Crew
- Hadrian being a messy bitch
- Marlene McKinnon is Sirius' own warning (lovingly)
- Lily is also her own warning (lovingly)
- the realization that you're still alone

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius startles awake, a thick layer of sweat clinging to his body. His hands shake, braced on his side as his heart hammers rapidly. He feels frazzled, shaken, but he cannot remember the dream he just experienced, only the blistering heat, the curl of a clawed hand around his wrists. How awful it felt. Sirius pants softly, roughly rubbing his face with both hands and rolls onto his back. 

It’s still so dark outside, nearly two hours til sunrise according to a tempus. Sirius waves his hand and light floods the room. I’m not at Alphie’s, he thinks drowsily, grasping the soft duvet beneath his fingers. Oh. How could he have forgotten? Remus. Regulus. Sirius’ mouth twists. The letter. Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose, struggling with the onslaught of despair that wrestles through him. He drags himself out of bed, haphazardly dragging on one of the pullovers he stole from James. 

Sirius kneels next to his bag, staring absently into it. God, everything was over. His mouth trembles. No, Sirius thinks savagely. He has shit to do. He’s never been a morning person but he has goals and a job he loves so even if he cried himself to sleep last night under a silencing charm and was generally broken hearted, Sirius wakes before the sun, as he has for the last few years, because he has shit to do. The world will continue to spin, no matter his grief. 

The house is painfully silent when Sirius creeps downstairs, dulled moonlight glittering against the closed curtains, however, there is a single strip of soft light coming from the kitchen. Hadrian is sitting at the kitchen island, an array of sharp, thin knives stretched out before him. His eyes were already locked on the entrance, fingers slowly running over one of the blades. He seems to relax when he registers Sirius, who manages a small, embarrassed noise. Hadrian waves him off, shoulders dropping as the tension slips from him.

“I had forgotten you kept early hours.”

“Like you?” Sirius didn’t know Hadrian knew about his odd hours but there always did seem to be a cup of coffee waiting for him after a run when he would visit the Manor and Hadrian happened to be home from a mission.

Hadrian’s lips quirk. “Like me.”

Sirius snorts, amused, and leaves Hadrian to whatever archaic thing he’s doing. He quietly closes the front door once he has his running shoes on, leaning heavily against the door. He shakes himself out, blinking back the furious bite of tears. He’s tired, so tired but going back to sleep seems agonizing. 

Sirius doesn’t know why Hadrian decided to live smack in the center of some muggle suburbia in London but it's an interesting place with sidewalks and simple trees, which made it a decent place to run. The first time Sirius ran, he threw up afterwards because he went too far for too long. It was after he was officially cleared by a healer, after Grimmauld, and he had felt so trapped in that castle, in his dorm room and he just wanted to leave, to go anywhere. Minnie had found him hours later and he never understood why he didn’t get detention that day but maybe she saw something in his face, maybe she knew how broken he felt. 

Sirius has been running ever since but now he can easily do ten miles when everything feels too much and too terrible. He doesn’t want to think about the letter he received but he knows he should, should process what has happened. It was sent by Alaric Solo, Warden of the le Fay accounts and estates, which were now his estates and accounts. It was baffling as was the unusual name and title for a goblin. There was a request to meet when he was available. Sirius hadn’t responded yet. He didn’t know how to respond. 

His parents were Blacks. He doesn’t understand. He was a Black. Ah, Sirius thinks absently, watching the sun begin to slowly peak over the horizon. Not a Black anymore. He missed his father. Sirius thinks back to that crazed expression Regulus wore, that wild, burning anger thrown back in his face once again. Dark houses could do terrible things to their wayward members. It was miraculous that his father had not been as cruel and inventive because his father had been and the one before and it goes and it goes. It was a blessing Regulus hadn’t done more.

Maybe he just wanted Sirius to die. Maybe that’s all he ever wanted. 

When Sirius returns, the sun has risen. Sweat drips down his spine and his entire body feels loose and warm and he shakes out, much like Padfoot does, wringing his hands together as stretches. The house is still very quiet but Sirius notices Hadrian sitting outside on the stone steps of his porch, a cup of coffee floating beside him, as he runs his hand over the boned snout of a thestral that bows before him. He didn’t even know thestrals came to such areas. Sirius wishes he wasn’t able to see it, wishes he wasn’t able to see the one that lingered outside Grimmauld after Sirius managed to sneak back out before Walburga could catch him. It had felt like such a finality. Orion Black was truly gone.

Signaled by the physical existence of a creature Sirius wishes he’d never be able to see. 

He misses his father. 

Sirius ends up taking a shower, listening to the rowdy chatter of an alert James Potter come from the hall as he talks animatedly to a quietly responding Hadrian. There is peace in such a volume. Remus had always been so quiet as if Sirius had simply taken his voice from him. Alphie’s flat had also been so quiet, a mockery of the wizard who once lived there. A wizard he no longer can feel in his magic. How shitty. 

Sirius stares at his reflection for a long moment. Those eyes. That hair. He wonders if he’ll need a new wand, wonders if he’ll be lackluster and useless to his new team. Sirius huffs a laugh, thrown and rattled and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, what he’s going to do. Sirius rubs his face again, pinching the bridge of his nose. You move forward, his father would say. Remain bold for even mountains weather storms, Sirius. Alright, he thinks numbly. Sirius straightens, steeling himself. 

Sirius had almost forgotten the type of morning people the Potters were. It feels like waking up in one of those weird, muggle kids movies where everyone eats breakfast together and they’re laughing and the birds are singing and Sirius is pretty alert right now but he could’ve sworn he saw a deer trilling to James Potter through a window as he stumbled downstairs. When he was done rubbing his eyes, it was gone and he frowned deeply but James simply blinked at him, very innocently. Hadrian didn’t seem phased in the slightest, just gestured to the stack of letters addressed and a package addressed to him.

There are also eggs, ham, biscuits, and an insane amount of sausage that James is shoveling through like a man possessed. James stabs a fork at him threateningly and Sirius sighs, intimidated, slumping onto a stool at the kitchen island. A plate of mangoes appears in front of him and Sirius sends Hadrian a grateful look, earning a wink as he passes with a large plate of raw meat. Sirius’ gaze drifts to the letters and sighs again. James makes a sympathetic noise. 

The news of Sirius and Remus’ relationship, and its end, swept through their shared friend group like fiendfyre. It was as if a divide had been created, those who said it was shitty but they could understand where Remus was coming from and those who said it didn’t matter why. Sirius didn’t care. He did burn Peter’s, that weak bastard, after reading confirmation he had in fact known but wanted to keep the peace because “we’re all friends, Pads. We can work this out like we did when you fucked up”. Maybe they could work this out, it just wouldn’t be anytime soon. 

Sirius didn’t want to see Remus. He didn’t want to see Regulus.

The package was from Severus Snape, who berated him and told him to use everything as instructed, then called him an idiot again. It was filled with nutrient potions, some weird concoction of silvery orange labeled ‘to cure idiocy and core damage’, and pain relievers because “not even the devil could kill you, idiot”. Sirius nearly laughs. They have such a weird relationship now. Sirius never thought he’d know Snape’s favorite color or talk beyond insults. No one would believe Sirius anyway if he did tell them that Severus Snape’s favorite color was yellow or that Snape’s flat in Bulgaria was actually Alphard’s because well, Alphie was dead and Sirius wasn’t using it and he didn’t have a Potions Mastery to complete or an internship in Sofia.

It's not that they were hiding their, god, friendship, it's just that it was unexpected and Sirius is sure if they addressed it, they’d end up lighting each other on fire. 

“I cannot believe this shit.” James fumes, setting a letter from Mary on fire. His eyes are murderous. “Now we can move forward, she says. Jesus, this is actual bullshit. At least there is some good news. Lily is also frustrated. Apparently, she’ll be decking you later today. Sorry. Anyway, did you read the Prophet? What did Sev- Snape want?”

“I hate the paper. You know, Sev. He sent me drugs, called me an idiot. The usual. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. So fine.” Sirius rubs his face. “I’m as much to blame-”

“Do not start that bullshit around me, Sirius Best Boy Potter Black.” James hisses, practically smoking out his ears. “God, you beautiful, idiot man. I could strangle you.”

“Not a Black anymore.” Sirius reminds him gently.

James shudders, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry. I forgot.”

Sirius waves a dismissive hand. He summons the strange, opened letter and passes it to James, who gently picks it up, noticing the broken Gringotts seal, and swallows audibly. James sets the letter down, frowning heavily and he looks at Sirius again, a question, an ‘are you sure’. Sirius manages a nod, drumming his fingers nervously on the table and James opens it. He reads it quietly.

James sets the letter down, pushing his face into his hands and manages a tiny laugh.

“Holy shit.” He whispers. 

“I can hear your impending panic attack, Jamie.” Hadrian says, striding back into the kitchen. 

“Liar. I’m doing my breathing exercises.” James huffs.

“Uh huh. Do them quieter. If I can hear it, it's an impending panic attack” Hadrian rubs his eyes, an empty mug and plate in hand, and sends them a speculative look where they sit at the island. His gaze lands on Sirius then the opened letter. “Oh. You read it.”

“Yeah.” Sirius says quietly. 

Thundering footsteps come towards the kitchen and alas, there is Marlene, bright eyed and still very furious. She slams into the stool beside Sirius, mouth opening before it immediately locks shut, eyes on the Gringotts letter beside James. James sends Sirius a look, who shrugs. James passes it to Marlene. She reads it quickly. Her expression shutters, fear, desperation, and she turns to James wide eyed. James meets her gaze evenly. Marlene slumps in her seat, looking at Sirius, and her jaw works in frantic motions. “Sirius, what happened?”

“Didn’t read the paper yet?” James asks sweetly. “It's all there.”

“Fuck the Prophet!” Marlene says heatedly.

“Regulus disowned me.” Sirius tells her.

Marlene gapes violently, eyes wide. The fight visibly drains out of her as panic overtakes her entirely. “What the actual fuck, Sirius?! How- Is- I thought you were just doing break up rituals. Holy shit, this,” She gestures to his face and the letter. “Is permanent? How are you standing? How are you alive? The ramifications are… Your house is so fucking old. I don’t understand. How are you connected to the le Fays?”

“Sounds like a well kept secret, which benefited him.” Hadrian settles beside James, waving his hand lazily and two cups of coffee appear in front of Marlene and Sirius. He eyes the slowly dwindling plate of mangoes and Sirius sends him an innocent look, which he huffs at, supplying more.

“Thank you.” Sirius says, tugging the cup to him. “I’ll go and see what’s up. Tomorrow. I’d likely lose my mind if I went today. You can read it if you want.” 

Hadrian gives a lazy shrug. “It’s not really my business. You can tell me whenever.”

Sirius blinks. “I’m living with you.”

Hadrian snorts, amused. “That doesn’t mean I’m entitled to read your shit.”

“Oh. James does.”

“As your second brain cell, I am allowed.” James states proudly, reading Snapes’ letter. “A new record. He only called you an idiot three times. He only referred to me as a baboon twice.”

“Please stop talking about Siri’s weird relationship with Severus fucking Snape. You want me to go with you tomorrow?” Marlene asks, looking at Sirius. 

“Don’t you have a brunch date with the woman asleep upstairs?” Sirius asks, thrown. “We’ve been planning this weekend long date for months. I committed heinous acts to get you a reservation at Biscari’s. If you don’t go, I will kill you and then myself. I got a damn portkey. You are going to Grenoble. I am invested!

Marlene pouts. “This is more important, Siri.”

“Absolutely not. It’s fine.” Sirius dismisses easily. “If it turns out I’m some weird affair baby, it explains why maman hated me so much. Uhm, I might need to get a new wand.”

James makes a wounded noise.

“Leave your keys. We’ll deal with Gertie and your flat while you’re gone. I’m sure Lily will go with you to get a wand.” Hadrian says, sipping his coffee.

“Aren’t you on vacation? You don’t have to do that.” Sirius blinks. He also didn’t know Hadrian knew his motorcycle’s name but James had likely told him. Hadrian lifts an eyebrow as if to say ‘so’ and flicks his fingers dismissively. James sends Sirius a look as well and fuck, Sirius isn’t about to argue with two Potters when he can barely handle arguing with one. 

Sirius sighs, defeated, and sets his keys on the kitchen island. He frowns suddenly. “Lily?”

James perks up. “Lily?”

The front door slams open, starling everyone but Hadrian, who simply nurses his coffee. While receiving a furious Marlene McKinnon was a normal, almost weekly experience, seeing a seething, enraged Lilja Tanwen Evans was fucking scary. She’s holding a copy of the Prophet that is fairly singed and still smoking, dawned a cozy, dark floral pair over overalls and prim ankle boots, her hair split into two neat braids. Sirius swallows audibly, mentally preparing to be decked.

Lily opens her mouth, then closes it, eyes bulging as she studies Sirius for a long moment. She wilts, relief erupting across her face. “Oh, Sirius.”

“Mango?” Sirius offers, unsure what else to say because he’s never seen Lily so shaken.

“Come squeeze him, Lils. I’ll get the other side.” Marlene chirps excitedly.

This seems to be the inspiration Lily needs because Sirius does, in fact, find himself squeezed between the two of them much to Hadrian’s growing amusement. James tries to sneak in but Lily sends him a threatening look. Lily plops in a seat beside Sirius after, sending Hadrian an apologetic look.

“Sorry for barging in.” She seems embarrassed, which is fair and relatable because surely, Big Potter had better things to do than entertain his kid brother’s friends. 

“This was more tame in comparison to the last time you came over. My little brother hasn’t been late to a date since.”

Lily blushes as does James. Marlene squawks. 

Sirius blinks then gapes. He demands, heated, “A what?!”

“And you never told us?!” Marlene hollers. 

“Oops.” Hadrian says pleasantly. 

“What the fuck, Prongs?” Sirius hisses.

James whimpers. “I’m sorry! I wanted to tell you but I mean, fuck, look at her! I had already made a bad impression because I fucked up my schedule. And! A-And it’s only been 5 dates so far! I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t fuck up!”

“5?” Sirius’ voice is deadly calm, and James swallows audibly. Sirius is about to catch a charge. Pending Azkaban stay has been initiated.

“5?!” Marlene shouts. “Lilja Tanwen Evans!” 

“Well. Now, you know. It’s been going very well.” Lily sniffs daintily, placing her copy of the paper on the kitchen island. “There may even be a 6th.”

James gapes, starry eyed. He clears his throat, nodding seriously. “Well. There you have it.”

“I have every right to set you on fire per our code of brotherhood.” Sirius says plainly. He doesn’t even feel jealous that this has worked out in his best friend’s favor. If anything, he is thrilled and betrayed and very serious about setting James Potter on fire immediately, which must show in his face because James is looking pale and ashen. Could he match this energy towards Lily, yes. Will he, no, especially when Marlene is reaching a marvelous shade of “the fucking audacity”, which is endearing and precious and truly Sirius and Marlene would do terrible things together if she would’ve joined the DLE with him instead of going off to do incredible, scary ward things. 

“Ruin his life. Do a blood feud. The Potter house would tremble.” Marlene sniffs, looking murderous. “What a shit week. Fucking Lupin and that trashy Black brat. Sirius being disowned then somehow being a le Fay. Lily finally-”

Lily’s head whips to them. “le Fay?!”

Sirius groans. 

“Mhm.” Hadrian hums, amused. “Oh, Sirius needs a wand. Tag, you’re it, Evans. McKinnon has a date which she will soon be late for if she doesn’t wake her future wife from the dead in the next 15 minutes. Your future husband and I will be handling Lupin if deigns to show himself while we grab Riri’s shit.”

Lily’s face goes as red as her hair. 

“Riri?” Sirius whimpers. “You’re worse than Monty. This is the fucking worst.”

Hadrian sends him a serene smile.

“Shit. He’s right.” Marlene hisses, stumbling off her stool. She swipes the last of Sirius’ mangoes before scampering away like some sort of fiend. 

“Usually am. Let’s go, Jay.” Hadrian chirps, dragging an equally red James from his seat. He swipes Sirius’ keys from the island, sending them a merry wave as he ushers James out of the kitchen. 

What a shit, Sirius thinks, delighted even if it is at his expense.

Lily worries her lower lip, expression contemplative. She looks at him, green eyes round with questions and a strange softness. “le Fay?”

Sirius swallows, reaching for the Gringotts letter. He passes it to her. “Yeah.”

“Did Regulus… know?” Lily asks, eyes skimming the parchment. 

“I don’t think so.” Sirius rubs a hand over his face. His voice breaks. “I don’t think destroying my relationship was enough. Maybe he wanted me to die. I think he wanted me to die. Our house is so old. It could’ve happened. Disownment isn’t common. We just shift the pecking order like all dark houses do. Blacks haven’t had a disownment in fucking centuries. Andy wasn’t even fully disowned. Just cut off from the money. Alphard too.” He laughs quietly. “Fuck, his face… He was so angry with me. It felt like when I ran away. What was I supposed to do? She was going to kill me. She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. What was I supposed to do?”

Lily lays a hand on his arm and squeezes hard. “None of this was your fault. You left an abusive household. It is okay to save yourself. It is okay to not stay. You just said so yourself, Sirius. Your mother would’ve killed you.”

“He was just a kid. I mean, she liked him better but I shouldn’t have left him behind-”

“You were also a child.” Lily hisses fiercely. “I visited you at Potter Manor after all that bullshit happened. You couldn’t even fucking walk, Sirius . I have seen the scars on your back, the one you glamor on your neck. Do not utter that shit in my presence. I will bodycheck you.”

“That’s so fucking scary.” Sirius manages a watery laugh. 

“I am fucking scary. Thank you very much.” Lily smirks. “Fuck both of them. I hadn’t expected Remus to… Let’s go get you a wand. Oh, I also have something for you.”

Lily tugs a shrunken, neatly wrapped box out of her overalls and shoves it into his chest. It enlarges immediately. Sirius peers down at the box, curious, then looks up at her.

Lily wrinkles her nose. “It was supposed to be for your birthday but alas, we’re here. In summer. Put it on, Bla- le Fay.”

Sirius opens it delicately, tilting his head to the side when the box simply disappears once he’s got his hands on the jacket inside. It's an incredibly soft, supple tan bomber jacket. One Sirius remembers eying the last time he was in muggle London with the girls. Sirius’ eyes burn and he looks at her, touched.

Lily sniffs, eyes watering. “I will beat you with a spoon. Fix your face.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sirius replies, sliding into the jacket. It immediately cools against him. “Oh, fuck, you and your charms. It’s fucking perfect. Thank you.”

Lily tosses one of her braids, pleased. “I know.”

Sirius agrees to sidealong to Diagon Alley even though he most certainly wants to throw up from the result of being a passenger princess. His stomach is in knots and he feels so strange, staring up at the entrance with what feels like trepidation in his heart. It’s his first time leaving the house with his new appearance. Sirius could’ve used a glamor but that felt… fake now. He wasn’t a Black anymore. Lily slips a hand into his and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Some Gryffindor I am, Sirius thinks then shakes himself out, squaring his shoulders and Lily shoots him an approving look.

They do manage to sneak through the Leaky Cauldron mostly unburdened but Tom, the barman, does turn his head sharp enough for an audible crack. Lily drags Sirius through the opening wall before Tom can barely get a wheeze out, which he appreciates. Diagon Alley is dead, fortunately, well as dead as it could be for smack in the middle of the morning. The number of looks they receive is unnerving and while Sirius is used to attention, he doesn’t particularly feel like a cash cow. He feels strange, like a mistake, like he should be ashamed. 

Disownment was shameful yet virtually unheard of. Light houses wouldn’t bother with such tactics. The darker you went, the more you could see how houses dealt with their wayward members. As an example, you could easily look at houses like the Rosiers, how often they shifted members around like predators working through a pecking order, how often someone might’ve gone missing only to return a year or two later as if reworked completely. Evan Rosier was never really the same after the summer of his 3rd year. Neither was Hilda Greengrass the year after. And it goes and goes and goes.

Sirius does notice a wizard reading a copy of the Prophet and while his disownment has been acknowledged, there is a blurb about Black Manor being leveled in response, speculations, and commentary he can’t make out as they pass. It's unsettling, seeing the damage to such a once opulent place. Sirius wonders if Walburga shoved the blame on him like she did everything else. A weak link in their house, a waste.

“You’re so quiet, Siri.” Lily comments idly.

I feel broken, Sirius thinks. He says, “I’m kinda tired. I went for a run this morning.”

Lily pulls a face. “Ugh. James has tried to get me to join him. I just can’t be bothered. What was your time?”

“About an hour and ten. I was lazy.” And delusional as he is most mornings. 

“Lazy, he says.” Lily mutters. “And how far?”

Sirius sends her an innocent look. “About 9 miles.”

“Heaven’s help me.” Lily hisses, affronted. “If you were a muggle, you would’ve been one of those track boys. Call the Prophet.”

Sirius laughs, delighted, and holds open the door for her once they reach Ollivander’s, earning a shrewd, almost put out glare. Ollivander is just as wrinkled and chipper as he was when Sirius got his first wand. His bushy eyebrows shoot to his forehead when he sees them. He pushes his glasses up his nose then rubs his hands together. The shop is also just as chaotic, packed full of trinkets and rows and rows of wand boxes.

“At last, it is time. Welcome, Mr. le Fay. Miss Evans.” Ollivander greets cheerfully. “Curious thing in the Prophet recently about your old House. The paper is incredibly behind these days. A long time coming I’d say. Hm, rattled indeed. I’m sure they’ll survive without you or at least find balance eventually.”

Lily makes a startled noise.

Sirius truly thinks this man isn’t human but who was he. “Hi, Mr. Ollivander. I haven’t bothered to read the paper. How are your pixies doing?”

Maybe he should read the paper. Sirius nearly vomits at the prospect. 

Ollivander brightens. “Quite well, my boy. Quite well!”

Sirius sidles up to the counter, watching in amusement as Ollivander putters about, plucking wands from hard to reach places and, curiously, the floorboards. He lines them up easily on the counter then frowns heavily, waving his hands wildly before darting through a closed door in the back. Ollivander returns just as fast, holding three more boxes. Sirius has reservations because there are now seven wands placed before him. Lily moves to stand beside him, studying each wand with wide, curious eyes.

“So many options.” She says.

Sirius looks up at Ollivander. “And all are shorter than my 13 inch.”

Ollivander appears giddy. “So they are but you’re not quite the same, are you, Mr. le Fay?”

Sirius huffs, amused. He plucks the first wand on his left and it promptly explodes in his hand. Lily startles, placing a hand on Sirius’ arm. Ollivander hums thoughtfully, waving his hand to clean up the mess. “I will mend you later, my friend. Try another.”

Sirius goes through nearly all the wands that either react very, very poorly to him in a way he’s never experienced or simply die, like a limp noodle. Ollivander just nods or makes strange, thoughtful commentary like he did before and digs around under the counter before Sirius can pick up the last one. 

“I should’ve expected. I believe it took a while your first time. Your father was a tricky customer as well. As was your mother. She imploded half my shop before finding her match! Such a fun visit. Hmmm, I wonder.” Ollivander chirps, setting a heavily damaged, rotting box on the counter but the wand inside is a pristine golden ebony that sparkles faintly in the light.

“How pretty.” Lily whispers.

“Yeah.” Sirius looks to the other wand but his gaze floats back to the one in the decrepit box. He gently picks it up. The hair on his neck rises. Sirius curls his fingers, feeling the supple warmth of a spring morning, and flicks his wrist absently. A flurry of silver sparks out easily followed by a gentle rain. Ollivander’s eyebrows are raised high, glasses on his forehead and he nods rapidly, stroking his chin. Sirius sets the wand back into the box and his skin dries easily. So weird, Sirius thinks.

“This is the weirdest wand matching I’ve ever experienced.” Lily comments. 

Ollivander appears gleeful. “I find it interesting that this wand was specially made for Gordon Yaxley using the hairs of a thestral that saved him from certain death but he could never master it. This same thestral, however, was the last protector of his wife, Elowen Yaxley nee le Fay before she passed with her young babe and was very similar in stature to the animagus form your mother took while she was alive.”

Sirius’ gaze snaps to him. “She was a what?”

Ollivander nods sagely. “A thestral. Unregistered, of course, but I am no snitch as the young ones say. Isolde did give me quite a start. And my poor pixies! Anything but a boring bird, she’d say.” He laughs. 

Sirius’ throat feels tight. “Isolde? Was that her name?”

Ollivander’s expression turns incredibly sad. “Ah, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself. I apologize.”

Lily inhales softly. Sirius can feel her gaze on him. 

“You said while she was alive… Is.. Is she not anymore?” Sirius presses.

Ollivander’s face shudders, apologetic and devastated. “No.” 

What a miserable, fucking summer. Sirius swallows. He manages a laugh. “That’s fine. That’s.. I would’ve found out tomorrow anyway. Uhm. Did you know her well?”

“I was a friend of her great grandfather, you see. Bit of an eccentric man and I could see it in her. She’d send all sorts of bugs she’d find at Beauxbatons for the pixies and demanded apple pie often. Yes, quite a hungry girl she was.” Ollivander hums.

The words make his chest a bit tight. He wonders how his parents met if Isolde didn’t go to Hogwarts. He wonders if Orion was still his father. He still looked like him but… Sirius asks, “Do you know where he is now? The thestral?”

Ollivander shakes his head, visibly pulling himself back together. “It’s been many, many years. However, I am certain, Mr. le Fay, that he will find you should you go looking for him. I imagine he’s much closer now that your heritage has been made known to you.”

How ominous, Sirius thinks. There was a thestral at the house today. I wonder. “A skeletal horse of perpetual dread may seem tame in comparison to humanity. How much?”

Ollivander grins. “On the house. She’s such a picky thing. Who am I to deny her her wizard?”

So strange, Sirius thinks. He laughs anyway. “Alright. Keep your secrets. Thanks again.”

“Of course, Mr. le Fay!” Ollivander says cheerfully. “I’m sure she’ll make a great addition with that lovely pup of yours.”

Yes, Mr. Ollivander certainly can’t be human.

“Sirius.” Lily says softly once they’re outside.

“It’s fine.” Sirius tells her, forcing a grin. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Could be worse. She could’ve lived long enough to hate me too.”

Lily hooks an arm around his waist. “Only someone with bad taste could hate you, Sirius le Fay.”

Notes:

Cool. Sweet. We here.

I have tagged this as complicated relationships and while infidelity is a hard stop dealbreaker for me and I have cut people and friendships off for these reasons, not everyone is like that so I've also based the friendgroup reactions on what I've experienced :shrug emoji: Is it fair? No. Is it realistic? Imo, yes.

I will be replying to comments tomorrow when I am actually alert and it's not almost 3am heehee. Thank you again for reading! I'm so happy to see some familiar commenters again :3c

Chapter 3: Words of a Goblin

Summary:

Sirius meets his goblin.

Notes:

Tws, threats of violence or... disfigurement? Idk. Implied murder, implied poisoning, childbirth related trauma, childbirth complications that led to death, referenced kidnapping and subsequent death. Hadrian's murdery temper, which is a warning of its own. These aren't explicit. It just is what it is. Think that's it.

- Hadrian "Sugar Fiend" Potter vs Sirius "Intimidated" le Fay
- RIP Minnie's patience in receiving a Black and a Potter after watching Slughorn suffer with his Potter
- James constant need to embarrass his favorite dog
- learning your mom stood on business
- Sirius the Emoting Dog Wizard
- Alaric the Emoting Goblin
- Me, a writer "Have this strange creature and then another" vs Sirius, a character, suspicious "Someone keeps giving me weird shit"
- James "uwu my brother is so cool" Potter vs Hadrian, embarrassed & smitten, Potter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“No cream?” Sirius asks, grimacing at the sheer amount of sugar Hadrian is pouring into his otherwise black coffee. “You’ll get caveats or whatever they call them.”

“Cavities?” Hadrian asks, amused. “Who needs cream when you can have sugar?”

“Are you not awake enough? Do you even sleep?” It wasn’t even sunrise yet Sirius found Hadrian coming through the front door, alert and wild eyed, when he was getting ready for a run. Sirius doesn’t know how he does it because anything less than five hours turned Sirius into a zombie. He’s there, physically, but his brain just isn’t, nightmares be damned. At this point, it was just automatic. Wake up sweating, run away from anything and everything, exist. Then it repeats. 

Though he can’t remember his nightmares ever being this bad before. Sirius awoke this morning the same way he had the night before, shaken and trembling and having no idea why his heart was pounding so hard in his chest. Remus and Peter would sleep through Sirius waking up, much like the dead, unlike James, who would be on him like some sort of sea barnacle immediately. James is mainly the reason Sirius sleeps with a silencing charm. His best friend had been through enough of his shit. Sirius could save him from this.

Maybe he’s just cracked. Maybe he is broken. Maybe he’ll always be.

“Do you?” Hadrian counters easily.

“Alright, alright.” Sirius laughs, chastised. “I’m… Thanks for letting me stay here.. And feeding me.”

Sirius would always be eternally grateful for the Potters, their warmth, their home. He didn’t mean to be such a mess, such a burden but they never held it against him. Sirius has spent so long waiting for the shoe to drop that he was a bit concerned that they would turn on him like Regulus had done. But Sirius is starting to realize that wasn’t them. While Orion and Fleamont often came to heated debates during Wizengamot sessions when he was younger, Sirius knows his father sent Monty letters upon letters after Sirius had run away, knows the healer that arrived at Potter Manor was his father’s. 

However, he only knew any of that because Orion simply told him the first time Sirius had snuck back into Grimmauld to see him. He had been worried about his father. So young yet bedridden and wasting. The relief in his father’s face when he realized it was Sirius in his rooms had been incredible and strange, so strange. And Kreacher never told Walburga, never told Regulus, just kept a watchful eye. Sirius even taught them both how to play checkers. His father hated it but Kreacher’s competitive streak often had them bickering heatedly.

It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Sirius does wonder if Kreacher still plays checkers, if he would play with him again but Regulus was always his favorite so it's likely Kreacher took his side in this as he did everything else.

Hadrian waves him off. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re lucky I caught maa before she could break down my door. Mipsy has been a terror. Not to mention baba. Hell. Expect a visit in the next week, I can only do so much.”

“Shit.” Sirius whispers, cowed. “Uhm. Well, shit. I guess they read… the paper? Oh, I’m also here. Right.”

Hadrian levels him with a darkly amused look. God, the Potters were such shits sometimes. Sirius didn’t understand how Effie or Monty created such children. He’d really like to see what James would be like if he didn’t have an older brother. Sirius doesn’t think he’d be so level or slightly murderous. Sirius had heard rumors about what Hadrian got up to at Hogwarts which is why so many were wary of James when he finally attended. Sirius distinctly remembers the audible breath of relief that came from the staff table when James Potter ended up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, which was almost as memorable as the shocked outrage that came with a Black not being a Slytherin. Regardless, they almost put Minnie into early retirement.

Sirius shifts in his seat. “Maybe I’ll run away.”

“Nah, then you’d make maa sad. I can’t have that.” Hadrian says sweetly. “I’ll have to merge you into the floor. I can always regrow your bones later with or without the plaster.”

What a shit, Sirius thinks. “You’re so scary sometimes.”

“Naaaah.” Hadrian grins, sharp. “I’m so nice. I never give warnings. I’m sure Crowe has told you that.”

Sirius doesn’t have time to reply, which is great considering how cowed he is currently , because James is stumbling into the kitchen, wide eyed and disheveled and he exhales loudly, bracing himself on his knees. James slumps on the stool beside Hadrian, roughly rubbing his eyes. “What a relief. I thought I missed you leaving. I forgot to set an alarm. Was worried.”

“How are you even awake then?” Sirius asks, perplexed.

“My Mini Pads was going off.” James says proudly.

“Your… what?” Sirius frowns. 

Hadrian snickers.

“Oh, did I not tell you? Thought I did.” James blinks. “I made a Mini Pads yesterday, which is really just a transfigured toy dog that barks at me when you’re awake and distressed. It’s linked to your mood. I think it went off earlier because I did wake up at, like, three but alas, silence. Then it went off again! Wait. Are you distressed? Did something happen? What happened?”

“No!” Sirius blurts out, embarrassed. This was truly the worst moment of his life. 

Hadrian looks gleeful. “I’m sure Riri is just fine. It’s just us two down here having a chat.”

What! A! Shit! “I’m leaving. Now. I am not distressed. I am the most calm! So calm!”

James frowns, confused, but nods and Hadrian sends Sirius a wink, smug. Jesus, how could a mini him betray him like this and how dare James say these things out loud and create such a thing! Outlandish! Sirius has half a mind to call the muggle police for the audacity. What could they do? Nothing! But the inconvenient experience would be great. 

This was clearly the precedent Sirius needed for the day because it truly, just gets worse. Sirius has met many goblins in his life but he has never met any quite as unnerving as the one who sits before him. He nearly had regrets about coming alone and he’ll be damned if he encourages babying behavior while his friends are out there being scary and brilliant and in healthy relationships because he’s being a little bitch. Sirius had barely made it to the teller at Gringotts when the energy had shifted completely and he was immediately intercepted by another goblin and guided into an expensive, plush office where, he assumes, Alaric Solo sits at a richly decorated desk. 

The office of the Black’s account manager, Bilgrop, paled in comparison.

Sirius knows this goblin is old, incredibly old with his piercing gray eyes and shrewd gaze. His robes are perfect and rich lavender, fingers covered in rings and steepled golden claws made of filigree and diamonds. A heavy pair of round glasses sit on the edge of his large nose. Sirius feels a bit like he did as a child meeting Bilgrop with how scrutinizing and penetrating this gaze on him is. The goblin nods in what appears to be approval and Sirius nearly faints.

“Welcome, Sirius le Fay. I am Alaric Solo, Warden of the le Fay Estate.” Alaric says deeply, procuring a piece of silver parchment and a small, gilded knife. “Please supply three drops of blood for verification purposes. We have much to discuss.”

Sirius obeys, pricking his thumb. He drips the required amount and the wound seals up quickly, which is curious but whatever. The blood dissolves into the parchment as an inky web that slowly becomes a series of words.

Name: Sirius Altair le Fay III

 

  • Alias: Sirius Orion Black III (invalid per disownment)

 

Bloodstatus: Pureblood

Date of birth: November 3, 1959

Father: Orion Arcturus Black (dec.)

Mother: Isolde Vivienne le Fay (dec.) 

 

  • Alias: Yusura Nell Morvain

 

Godparents: Alphard Cepheus Black (dec.) and Lucretia Anaelle Prewett nee Black

Lord to: le Fay

Heir to: [Redacted per Lord request***]

Innate Core Block (invalid per disownment)[***]

***see inheritance results

There is a headache building in his right temple. God, his fucking middle name isn’t even the same. Who the fuck put a block on his core? Sirius has many questions, like why his mother apparently isn’t that harpy, why no one fucking told him anything. Granted, they’re all mostly dead but fuck, they weren’t always. Ollivander was right. Did his father give up on him taking up the Black mantle because he knew that Sirius would have something to fall back on? When did his actual mother pass? Why didn’t he ever meet her before she died? Maybe she did hate him, too. Then he was the heir… of another house. What house? Sirius feels like his brain might explode.

Ugh, he hadn’t seen Lucretia since after he ran away and it was after some scandalizing fight between her and Walburga that made it to the Prophet. If his grandfather was still alive, he would’ve thrown a fucking fit. Sirius rubs his temples, elbows settled on his knees, listening to the quiet rustle of Alaric taking the parchment and jotting down a few notes.

“When you’re ready, I have your lordship ring available.” Alaric informs him, nodding to a heavily decorated, golden jewelry case.

“I apologize.” Sirius straightens, struggling to remember his manners. He’s just so rattled. Alaric makes a dismissive gesture, expression understanding. He opens the jewelry case carefully, revealing a strike ring nestled in violet silk. It resembles the talon of a bird gripping a dark, blood red garnet. The band is finely detailed with feather engravings that seem to shift subtly. Alaric passes the ring over and Sirius takes it between his fingers, studying the fine details, feels its warmth and weight and slides it onto his right ring finger. It resizes, feathers coming alive as it throbs against his skin. It pushes at his magic, greedy and assessing and his own roars back with a snarling snap. A thrum of pride seems to come from the ring itself. It settles. He stares at it for a long moment.

“When did she die?” Sirius asks quietly. “Iso- my mom.”

“Around three months after your birth.” Alaric tells him. “There were complications as there always were with this line. Madame le Fay did leave you a letter, however, if you’d like to read it.”

Sirius’ eyes burn. How shitty. What a fucking miserable summer, he thinks. “I’d like that. May I see it now?”

“Certainly.” Alaric replies, tapping his desk twice. “I have watched you for a long time, Lord le Fay. I am aware of your recent acceptance into the Brigade HIT program. However, I hadn’t expected to meet you in such a way if I ever did.”

Sirius meets his gaze evenly. “My former brother has made his ire known. So Walburga knew that I wasn’t her son.”

“Yes. Arcturus as well. However, they both partook an Unbreakable Vow as did many families who ended up becoming intertwined with the le Fays. The remaining members of the Blacks simply assumed you were Walburga’s due to timing. They were unaware of Isolde’s involvement. The late Lord Black did not suffer additional chances.” Alaric nods, eyes gleaming. 

Another goblin comes through the side door, holding a heavy looking letter. He gently passes it to Alaric, bowing deeply before leaving the way he came. The door disappears. Alaric hands the letter to Sirius, who takes it gently. He runs his hands over the neat, elegant scrawl of his name on the front. Sirius opens it, feels the tiny remnants of magic against the page, how it purrs so sweet and so gentle against his own before fading away. 

There are two photos with the letter. One is of his father, so much younger, holding a bundle of black silk. He’s grinning in a way Sirius has never seen, in a way that easily matches his own, as a chubby hand lifts towards his face. Sirius assumes it's him his father is holding. Orion looks at the camera, cuts those silver eyes in that familiar way he does but that grin doesn’t waver and it loops and loops. His father, whose hair he had, who was dead and rotting in the ground as his star sucked his soul back into their constellation. He missed him, his unexpected laughter, the strange way he rolls his eyes. There had been so much fondness at the end. His father had seemed so different from the cunning, vicious man he grew up in the shadow of. Weak. Wilting. But still so proud.

Orion Black was a bastard but he was his father and Sirius missed him almost desperately now. He had so many questions to ask him. Sirius wanted to know why.

The other picture is of a woman with dark, dark hair, like the night sky for how it sparkles, whose body seems so weak and frail but still she seems ethereal and beautiful. Her smile is a warm, brilliant thing. Sirius is peering at the camera, settled on her chest, round and fat cheeked. Isolde laughs and Sirius looks at her, eyes crinkling with a gummy smile. Her face softens completely, violet eyes warm with so much adoration and pride. It loops and loops and loops. 

Sirius wonders if she would’ve liked checkers or if she would’ve begrudgingly learned how to play like his father did simply because Sirius had asked. He wonders if she would’ve been kinder to him than Walburga. His eyes burn, staring at the photos for a long, long moment. This is whose eyes he has, his parents. Sirius gingerly looks over the letter. His mother’s handwriting is neat with an elegant flourish.

Sirius,

My sweet, little nova. My little mango.

If you are reading this, I have long since passed. I always knew I would not survive your birth, whether it be as the Goddess decision or other factors. I hope Walburga treated you better than she did me, little mango. I know she will not hesitate to take advantage of my absence. I know Arcturus would allow it as would Orion. I know he does this for your safety even if I hate it. We would’ve wed this upcoming summer. I do not mourn that it won’t come to be but I did love Orion, that silly man, and I regret missing you grow.

You were so quiet, Sirius. The healers feared you were gone but I felt you and I knew. At last. I insisted on holding you. How small you were in my arms, so perfect. Then you opened those eyes, my eyes, my mother’s eyes, your father and his father’s eyes. A beautiful combination.

I have spoken with Alaric, our wonderful goblin. He has been a part of our family for an incredibly long time. Dare I say, he has been a close companion of mine since girlhood. I trust him with my life and to do what’s right for our house, for you. I wish I could see how beautiful you’ve become. Your magic feels so incredible, Sirius Altair.

I have sat for one of those outlandish portraits. It will be kept in my personal vault, which is now yours. You’re welcome to visit me but I also understand if this news is upsetting. I left you after all. I didn’t want to, my love. I hold no ill will no matter your decision. Please, please know that. 

You are a Black, yes, but you were a le Fay first. I grew you inside me. Know that your life was the greatest gift I ever received. Know I’d make the same choice a thousand times over. If you decide to embrace our heritage, our name, please be wary, my love. 

Even so small, you are so bold, Sirius. Already so strong. If the Mother permits, I leave what’s left of me in your heart, in your magic. If any of us could weather our name, it would be you, but I do not ask you to carry such a burden. 

However, if you choose to take my name, make the world tremble under its weight. A Black is rooted in the constellations, the stars, but a le Fay is an ever changing storm on the horizon. A herald of overwhelming moonlight in the darkness.

Do what you want. Live how you want. That is all I would ever ask of you. 

I love you, Sirius. My little nova. My little mango. 

Forever yours,

Isolde

Sirius stares at the letter for a long time, startled when a tear splashes on the page then another and another. Shit, he thinks, roughly wiping his eyes. Sirius neatly folds the letter and tucks it back into the envelope along with the pictures but doesn’t hand it back, clutching it tightly in his lap. He feels overwhelmed but there is an ugly curl of satisfaction in his gut. Walburga’s ire, her desperation, made sense now. Sirius wasn’t hers, wasn’t hers to own, to have, no matter how much she wanted him, to mold him. 

How hard she fought for Regulus to become Lord Black when her own actions failed. How quick she was to call Sirius a failure. A waste of life. Of magic. He wonders how she responded to Regulus disowning him. If she was relieved or enraged.

“Thank you.” Sirius wasn’t quite ready to meet Isolde but he would, eventually, when he felt less like a piece of shredded, wet paper. “You mentioned my father didn’t suffer additional chances. Did you know him well?”

Alaric nods solemnly. “Before your birth but I did not see him much after Isolde’s passing. Not until January of last year.”

Sirius looks at him. He frowns. “He had been bedridden.”

“So he was.” Alaric hums. “Such a curious way to go despite how young Orion was. Yes, we had many conversations towards the end of the late Lord Black’s life out of Lady Black’s scope.”

Sirius swallows hard. “You suspect Walburga had something to do with it?”

Alaric levels him with a look. “Would this knowledge ease what you have learned today?”

No, it wouldn’t. His father was dead. If his father had caught on and demanded no retribution or revenge then he was likely too far gone. Sirius shakes his head.

Alaric’s eyes are sympathetic. What a strange goblin, Sirius thinks. “Would you like to venture to your vaults or would you prefer another time? I understand this is a lot and unexpected.” 

“If we could do it another time, I’d appreciate it. I will go down there.” Sirius swallows. “I just can’t today.”

Alaric nods in understanding, tapping his desk another two times. A thick parchment appears and a curious looking case shaped like a gilded egg. “Very well. I’d like to review the residencies of the estate and ascertain if you have any requests or questions about investments. You are also welcome to choose a different account manager.”

“That’s not necessary. She trusted you to handle the investments and our estate, as did my father, so I trust their guidance and yours.” Sirius tells him and Alaric seems pleased. “We can look over everything though. Unless you’re about to tell me I’m poor then let’s start there first. So I can at least have all my wits rattled at once.”

The idea of having additional places to live was unexpected. Sirius does still have Alphard’s flat but it was so big, so desolate like it couldn’t quite figure out what to do now that the man who once owned it was gone. Sirius could understand, hated being alone there. Another Black gone. Another star swallowed up into the constellation that bore it. How dim the stars seemed to be now.

Maybe he should rent it out. 

Alaric makes an unnerving noise, very unlike a goblin of his stature, amused. “You are certainly not poor, Lord le Fay. Here are the details. I’ve also updated the listing to include current vault balances. The late Lord Black’s second vault has also been left for you so I’ve included that as well. There was also a joint vault created by Madame le Fay and Lord Black. Additionally, you will find two properties from the late Lord Black’s father and the late Lady Black as they requested in their wills.”

What?

Sirius blinks. “Can Regulus contest that? Can Walburga?”

Alaric shakes his head. “As stipulated by the late Lord Black, the Black account manager transferred ownership to you as requested at the time of Arcturus’ death. They were always meant to be yours.”

“Oh.” Sirius says, relieved. He takes the parchment slid his way and nearly balks at the fucking amount in each of the eight vaults. The Blacks were more than upper class, practically royalty, yet Sirius had never seen such an enormous amount of money. He does not want to see what these look like in actuality because he’d surely lose his fucking mind. Isolde’s, their family, had homes practically everywhere, even fucking North America. 

Sirius briefly entertains the idea of just whisking himself off to bumblefuck nowhere Canada or wherever the fuck Louisiana is and dying a quiet hermit life but that would not do. He had friends, had goals, no matter how spiteful they’ve become. However, Sirius is pleased that he gets to keep his grandparent’s summer home in Budapest and their home in Beaufort. He loved visiting them, loved seeing the fruits of their chaotic magic. 

God, he missed them, violent nature and all. Sirius looks at Alaric, feeling overwhelmed. “Any other shocking news today? Like mom had a dragon enslaved in a dungeon somewhere?”

Alaric’s eyes sparkle. “Ah, he had already passed before you were born, unfortunately. Your father visited him frequently to ensure his time was served for his misdeeds.”

Sirius gapes. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.”

“One of the great mysteries of the world, Lord le Fay.” Alaric sneers, vaguely giddy. “Your residences have all been maintained as per Madame le Fay and Lord Black’s request. I’d suggest an updated coin purse. Rest assured, I’ve included the late Alphard Black’s vault as well.”

“Oh. Alright.” Sirius mutters. “I’ll take the update. Do I… need to assign a proxy or anything yet?”

God, Sirius really didn’t want to do politics. He nearly cries at the thought but it could be useful especially with Regulus becoming Lord Black. Sirius didn’t really know if his former brother would try anything additional against him. He’d need someone with influence already since Blacks held a lot of sway. Maybe he could ask Monty. He held a lot of weight with the light houses and most of the grays due to his apparent respect for Orion Black despite their differences.   

Alaric sends him a shrewd look. “You favor her. Madame le Fay made a similar expression when her late mother offered to allow her to reveal her heritage to the world. However, your emotions are more reserved. Madame le Fay did, in fact, weep at the prospect of having to sit on the Wizengamot despite her father agreeing to be her proxy. ” 

Sirius laughs, startled. “She did?”

Alaric sneers. “It was uncouth. Dare I say I was charmed. I had never seen such a reaction amongst wixen kind that wasn’t a child. Given the delicate circumstances, I would recommend someone you trust as a proxy. This is if you choose to reclaim your name in public. At this point, you may have no choice. You were already a Black. The results of your disownment have been… great. There is also your survival from such an act.”

Alaric adjusts his glasses. “You will garner more interest. Not all of it would be good but I believe most will be beneficial. Aside from that, I encourage you to continue with your studies. Your apprenticeship. le Fays have always done more outside of frivolous bickering. It is what she would expect of you. However, I will mention that the Warringtons have been watching you for a long time as well.”

“I work with a Warrington.” Sirius says slowly. “Elias Warrington. He was an Unspeakable. Were they watching me like you’ve watched me or… do I need to be wary? I can probably take him but he’s, like, 27. Kind of scary… Eh, no, I can probably take him.”

Alaric appears amused. “As I have watched you, Lord le Fay. It is a part of their oath to your house.”

Sirius blinks. He is relieved, hell. He liked Elias. “Explains why he seemed so interested in my magical signature. Uhm, alright. I guess. Do you know why no one told me? Or when I was supposed to find out?”

Alaric makes a low noise, nodding his head solemnly. “On your 25th birthday, if even then. As frustrating as it may sound, this was done for your safety. I’m sure you noticed Madame le Fay went by an alias. Morvain. This was her name for most of her life as it was of the unmarried women of the le Fay line. Isolde could’ve taken her father’s name but she refused in order to follow custom as her mother had before marriage.”

Sirius blinks. How unusual. “Is le Fay a matriarchy? What house was her father from?”

“Lucan is a Carrow. le Fay is traditionally considered a matriarchy, yes, but there have been exceptions made for volatile, dangerous magic. You are the first son in a long line of daughters since the early 13th century. le Fays were a well kept secret amongst the dark houses, however, you were the last successful birth. The rest died in the womb, taking their mother’s with them. The Mother would not deny your claim.”

Sirius blinks. That’s depressing. What were they hiding from? “Do you know why they had to take aliases?”

“What do you know of the le Fays? Outside of this room.”

Sirius swallows thickly. It was an ancient, powerful house that was soaked in dark magic, blood magic. A threat to society some would say but they hadn’t been around in so, so long. The last known link was Morgana le Fay and no one ever had anything good to say about the things she had done. But no one ever had anything good to say about a Black either that wasn’t another dark house. And clearly the le Fays had, apparently, survived this long. Morvain. He had heard that name before. It was another dark house but clearly it didn’t truly exist.

Sirius looks down at the letter in his lap. “She couldn’t have been all bad.”

Alaric grunts in agreement. “But that reputation lingers and so do the caveats attached to such a name. However, the reasons for such an occurrence were not given to me. I assume it was due to reputation but there has always been incredible dark magic intertwined with the le Fays.”

Sirius swallows. He looks down at the letter, running his fingers across where his name is written. “Can… May I ask what she was like?”

“Absolutely, Lord le Fay. Isolde was a dangerous, charming woman as were many in her line. She had a temper, which I’m told, rivaled that of your father’s. Many considered her genial attitude as weakness but your mother did not take insults lightly and she was brutal in her offense as her mother was, as her father was. I know she was nearly expelled numerous times due to her mouth.” Alaric tells him, adjusting his glasses. He seems almost fond. “That silly girl.”

“Thank you.” Sirius whispers and Alaric gives him a curt nod, his expression firming again. A slim, square coin purse appears on his desk next to the egg. “May I ask what the egg is?”

Alaric seems almost gleeful. Maybe the older the goblin, the more cheek, because Sirius is just thrown and it’s been an emotional day full of wow. “I am gratified you asked, Lord le Fay. Tell me. Do you currently have an owl or did you simply wait for Munin to arrive once more to give me your reply?”

“Is Munin the weird raven? What a cool name.” Sirius blinks. He blushes. “Wait. Manners. Sorry. Ok. I did but I’ve never needed an owl before. I just borrow my friends’.”

Alaric grins. It is unnerving. “How amusing. This is Umbra, your great, great grandmother’s phoenix, who Isolde kept until her passing.”

“This is not matching with any of my phoenix knowledge.” Sirius blinks. He feels like he may just start crying, which would not do. “Wait. God, I promise I’m smart. I was third in my year. I’m just. Cracked. Ok, fancy egg. Presumably not real. Just fancy because drama. His ashes are inside?”

“You are correct, Lord le Fay.” Alaric hums. “He has been resting for quite some time. Take him with you. I will not be held responsible for his temper if he should experience rebirth in the next cycle without you. He is more tenacious than Gatsby. Granted, Gatsby is incredibly ancient and has mellowed out over the last hundred years.”

Sirius may be on his last leg. He can feel his left eye twitch.

Alaric blinks, innocent. “The thestral, of course.”

Sirius throws up his hands. Its uncouth and ill mannered but fuck. Fuck! His brain is leaking out his ears. He whimpers. Oh, man. Ok. Well. We’re here. We are here. I am grown. Skeletal horse of perpetual dread. Phoenix. God, I have work tomorrow. One of my tenured coworkers’ family has been watching me. I am related to the Carrows. Alright, Sirius thinks wildly. He had not seen the thestral since yesterday morning but he had felt eyes on him during his run this morning. Alright, Sirius thinks.

“I thought phoenixes only have one master.”

Alaric hums deeply. “Umbra is unable to let your family go.”

Sirius blinks. “Is… he, like, trapped? Bound or whatever they call it. Omg, is he a… a slave?”

Alaric laughs, which is concerning because what the fuck. “Not at all. He is simply honoring his lady’s final wish. Umbra doesn’t seem to mind. He was very fond of your mother and hers.”

Big bird. Big horse. I need a farm, Sirius thinks.

“Alright. I don’t think I need an alias.” he states firmly, looking up at him. “I was already a Black. People already knew who I was.”

And likely already had a target on his back.

Alaric’s expression radiates dangerous approval. “If you are certain then I agree, Lord le Fay.”

“I appreciate you meeting with me today.” Sirius tells him. “And just Sirius is fine. I feel like we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

Alaric, if possible, startles but appears pleased. “As you wish.”

Sirius takes the coin purse and the egg, sliding them into his pocket as he rises smoothly to his feet. “May your vault overflow with gold, Master Solo.”

“Alaric is fine, Sirius.” Alaric quips. “May your enemies tremble in the blood of their babes.”

What a shit, Sirius thinks, charmed. He sends Alaric a jaunty wave before he leaves, nodding goodbye to the teller, who does a shocked double take, which was truly hilarious. Sirius returns to the Potters with an insane amount of Mexican and James is sitting by the door like some puppy waiting for his owner to return, which is endearing. James perks up, watching Sirius close the door behind him. He does help with the bags and leads Sirius into the living room, where Hadrian is bent over a heavy looking book on the coffee table. He looks up, promptly slams the book shut, then sweeps it to the floor aimlessly. James sets the bags down on the coffee table. Hadrian sends Sirius a look. 

“Figured I’d buy food since you keep feeding me.” Sirius says, settling next to James on the floor. “I’m just now noticing Gertie outside. Thanks for grabbing her.”

Hadrian sends him another look, amused. “How did it go?”

“Yeah, dude, tell us everything.” James says, digging through the bags.

“I had a block on my core.” Sirius comments idly. “Apparently, it’s broken now.”

Hadrian’s jaw clenches. “Did they say who put the block on you?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Nah, I didn’t do an inheritance test or whatever. Which apparently I need to do at some point. Just the verification.”

James nudges him, smile reassuring. “Explains why you felt different when you arrived. Is everything else ok?”

“Oh. I have an egg.” Sirius responds, shifting. He gently pulls out Umbra’s fancy egg and sets it on the table. “My mother is Isolde le Fay. Her and my father never married but grandfather wouldn’t dismiss the pregnancy even if it was out of wedlock because of who she is. Was. She went to Beauxbatons.”

“Huh. Pretty egg.” James drops a container of queso covered rice in front of Sirius.

“Did she have an alias?” Hadrian asks, taking one of his tacos and placing it on James’ plate, who beams. He eyes the egg curiously but doesn’t ask. 

“Yeah. She left me a letter. Some pictures. I read it. There’s a portrait too but… It was already just a lot.” He rubs a hand over his face. “This summer has been shit. I’m exhausted. I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”

James pats his arm sympathetically. “At least you got some answers. Why do you have an egg?”

Sirius nods, pushing his container to the side. “It’s my mom’s phoenix. Oh, I’ve got… I have places everywhere. Even Kyoto. Where is Louisiana again?”

“What?” James asks around a mouthful. He chokes and coughs raggedly. “Who?”

“America.” Hadrian supplies. 

“Oh, yeah.” Sirius drops his head heavily on the table. “She seemed so nice. Called me a little mango.”

James whimpers. “Oh my god. That’s so cute. You have a fucking pheonix. Dumbledore is clutching his pearls.” 

Sirius turns to look at him, laughing, cheek smooshed. “Yeah.”

“What was her alias?” Hadrian asks, sending James a scathing look when his brother slowly reaches for one of his enchiladas. “I will stab you, Jaime.”

“Just a bite. Please.” James pouts. Hadrian glowers at him. James pouts, if possible, even harder. 

Sirius huffs a laugh. “Yusura Morvain.”

Their heads snap to him as one and it is unnerving. 

Hadrian frowns deeply. “The inventor of the Unitouch?”

“The what?” Sirius blinks.

“What the fuck do they teach at Hogwarts now?” Hadrian asks, clearly thrown.

James gapes at him. “Pads! We learned about her in Charms!”

“You know I never paid attention in Charms.” Sirius whines. “God, it’s a miracle I managed an O.”

“I’m still pissed about that by the way.” James hisses. He clears a space on the coffee table as Hadrian flicks his hand lazily. “She created a disposable ward with a single spell. All you need is your magic and a living target. Wow. That’s fucking amazing. It’s a curse trap. You could trap someone’s magic too. It’s also… illegal heehee.”

“That sounds like blood magic.” Sirius mutters, staring dully at the hefty book that slams right in front of Hadrian. He watches him skim quickly through the pages before making a low noise. Hadrian pushes the book to him and he instantly recognizes the face staring up at him but her smile is less bright, more coy. Isolde looks healthy and alive, her hair dazzling ringlets, still dark, so dark but Sirius can see the faintest hints of silver. He dazedly tugs the letter out of his jacket and opens it. Sirius places the picture of Isolde and him next to the one of her in Hadrian’s book. Yusura Morvain, the page says.

James peers over curiously. “Holy shit, Pads. Your mom was smoking. Your cheeks were so round. So cute.”

“They really were.” Sirius manages a laugh, eyes watering.

“Is it just…” Hadrian’s voice trails off.

Sirius swallows, watching the loop of Isolde’s smile. “Yeah. Just me now.”

A whole new house. A new name.

And still he was alone.

There’s a soft tap that comes from the porch door. Sirius turns to see the thestral lying comfortably on the porch stone flooring, massive with its eerie, empty white eyes. His mane is long, the bones in his face almost resembling some strange dragon. James chokes.

“Oh. This is Gatsby.” Sirius frowns, looking at James. “Wait. You can see him?”

Hadrian made sense. James did not.

“So that’s his name.” Hadrian hums. He waves a dismissive hand. “Jaime was taken from a muggle park when we were visiting Dorea. He was 9. I found him and the men dumb enough to lay hands on what’s mine. The muggle police were useless as were the aurors because it wasn’t “magical jurisdiction” or some fucking bullshit. I only needed two hours to find him.”

“It was scary.” James nods solemnly. He grins. “Then Hadrian rescued me! It was so cool.”

Sirius gapes. “You were 14.”

Hadrian blinks. “And? I suppose I could’ve used harsh language but that’s not who I am.”

“It isn’t.” James chirps. “I forgot I hadn’t told you, Pads. I try not to think about it. I cried a lot. He had to carry me like a baby. It was embarassing.”

“I’d do it again, idiot.” Hadrian huffs, fond. “Let your horse in, Riri. We did stop by the butcher.”

“So that’s who you bought all that meat for.” James says thoughtfully.

Sirius obeys, confused, thrown, then frowns deeply as he absently pets the boned head of Gatsby that nudges his face. “Can I vote for a different nickname?”

“Nah.” Hadrian says.

“I think it’s cute.” James coos.

“You’ve been outvoted.” Hadrian sends Sirius a sunny smile.

Sirius sighs.

Notes:

lowkey feel like Hadrian was flirting most of this chapter ehe

Anyway. So next chapter we will finally meet Roderick Crowe, Siri's resident do-I mean, boss man. I have done some rewriting/scrapping but we are officially 6 chapters done. I think. Unless I have a come to jesus moment with myself. Alas.

Chapter 4: A Gathering of Dogs

Summary:

Sirius' first day back to work after being disowned.

Notes:

Tws, violence that comes with dueling :3c, threats of violence and discussions of violence

- Roderick "Happy Doggo" Crowe
- Hadrian The Mother ™
- Brigade Dynamics
- Sirius vs His Magic, its giving drama
- Hadrian's lowkey flirting (imo)
- Custody battles of one dog

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Bright eyed and bushy tailed, eh?” Roderick Crowe greets him happily.

“Absolutely.” Sirius deadpans. He doesn’t startle, in fact he feels dead, more than dead, he’s exhausted, even with nearly 12 hours of fitful sleep. Sirius had scared the shit out of himself this morning because his fucking face was wrong and weird then he sneezed and it went back to normal. Any reservations he had for the day were promptly tucked into a vault and catapulted off a cliff somewhere. 

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stood in the Potter’s kitchen, glaring at his cup of coffee like it could bring him back from the depths of hell, already pissy and over it, as James fluttered around him happily. Hadrian had apparently already left, which didn’t surprise him, but did cut up mangos for Sirius and made James a massive, hearty breakfast that James proceeded to also shove down Sirius’ throat with a threatening smile. 

Crowe had intercepted him in the Ministry atrium, imposing in his charcoal gray uniform, pants tucked into a pair of sturdy knee-high dragonhide boots, green eyes ablaze. A silver emblem crests his right shoulder, a stylized wand colliding with a sword. Sirius had barely heard him. The man was fucking quiet despite being so huge. Sirius doesn’t know why Crowe has chosen to walk with him but he supposes he will get his answer soon. He supposes his sudden house change could have drastically shifted something.

Oh, shit. Was he getting fired? God, he’s only been here a week. Sirius thinks he would truly do something insane at this point. He would blow up lives, punishment deserved or not. Fuck.

“My roster was updated this weekend. Coincidentally, you’re looking especially different.” Crowe says, sharp eyes assessing Sirius once they’re in the elevator. Ah, the answer arrives.

“Circumstances changed.” Sirius quips, steeling himself. “No wasted potential, right?”

Crowe grins maniacally, the thick scars on his face stretching. “That’s it, le Fay.”

Sirius nearly collapses in relief, trailing after Crowe and it’s interesting to watch wizards and witches move out of the way for them. He meets his stride easily, grateful for the warming charms in his uniform because it’s fucking freezing in here. They take the familiar path to the Department of Law Enforcement, which, if possible, is just as dreary and desolate as before but there are charming light fixtures and a very rotund, older woman sitting at the receptionist desk in a fetching, rich orange blouse that suits her dark complexion. 

It’s a different woman from when he left Friday afternoon but the series of uncomfortable looking chairs and drink station remain the same. She perks up when she notices them, sending a warm smile their way as she gently slides a few pieces of paper into a disappearing cabinet. James is leaned against said desk, nodding to a dark skinned auror in uniform, who is gesturing broadly in front of him. Sirius vaguely remembers the man’s face after meeting once. James is in the same training uniform Sirius has seen Frank Longbottom in. 

“Oh ho, Crowe!” The auror greets with a lazy salute, grinning. “Heard quite a commotion in your department this morning. Roster change?”

James looks over his shoulder, perking up like he didn’t see Sirius 30 minutes ago. Dumb deer, Sirius thinks fondly. 

Crowe grins back, sharp. “Just the excitement I need for a Monday. Ironed my uniform myself for the occasion. I even combed my hair, Tennison.”

Tennison laughs, delighted. “James Potter, this is Roderick Crowe. Current captain of the Brigade, second division in the HIT Department.”

“The best of the best.” James’ smile is a sunny thing. He offers his hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, Potter. Your brother is giving me grays.” Crowe replies, shaking his hand. He nods to Sirius. “This is Sirius le Fay. le Fay, this is Yusuf Tennison, third in command in the Auror Department, who is still threatening to strangle me since I got my hands on you.” 

Tennison’s gaze immediately turns assessing. He regards Sirius with a hard, speculative look then grins, holding out his hand. “le Fay now, huh? But once a Black. You get all the luck, Crowe.”

Sirius shakes it. “Luck of the devil perhaps.”

Tennison laughs, startled. “That’s all we need.”

“All we need.” Crowe claps Sirius on the shoulder. “We’ll see you boys later.”

Sirius sends James a little wave, who beams, as he trails after Crowe through their department door. The change from the waiting room to the inside is stark, all white walls and clinical like a muggle hospital Sirius has seen in shows and movies. As they walk, the bare white walls fade and shimmer, replaced with warm red tones and portraits of those long passed who nap peacefully in their frames. There’s even plants, bountiful, with vines curling along a crystal hexagon skyline above. 

 A series of witches and wizards are strewn about a plush, minimally decorated lounge area, some frowning over a shared, open file, while others are nursing coffee mugs or planted on one of the many couches. There’s a wide array of desks with privacy screens and a series closed doors. A cozy, floating fireplace sits suspended in the center, encased in heavy stone. Several eyes snap to them, curious, and Crowe waves a dismissive hand. Most of them return to what they were doing but some of their gazes linger on Sirius. A few wixen hurrying past, some with scrolls, some with coffee, some with frazzled wits. Some manage a quick greeting in their direction and he huffs, amused.

“You’d think we had something going on.” Crowe says excitedly. “You’ll be with Potter today. I want to see where you’re at. Saw you nearly blew off Cas’ wand arm Thursday.”

“Before or after she almost replaced my face with a hole?” Sirius asks sweetly.

Crowe appears pleased by this. He was the strangest man but he was the best of the best as James had said. Roderick Crowe, Magical Combat Specialist, second best in the Wizarding world in the world, who also personally delivered Sirius’ acceptance letter to the program. Sirius had nearly wept, nearly screamed but he resisted even if he didn’t resist crushing Crowe’s hand in their handshake. Crowe didn’t mind, just grinned in that sharp and pleased way of his. 

Notably, Crowe was also a werewolf, which was unusual and unheard of and Sirius didn’t know if anyone else knew but it wasn’t his secret to tell and he has learned to keep his fucking mouth shut. In fact, the only reason he realized was because Remus said Sirius smelt weird and made a joke about him having another wolf in his life. Sirius had only seen one other person that day because he immediately ran to his now ex boyfriend to tell him the news before harassing James. So he just put two and two together.

Crowe was also wildly different from Remus. Confident, certainly more murderous, and generally seemed here for a good time, not a long one.

“I believe it was after you shattered her ribs.” Crowe chirps, leading Sirius down a hall. “Glad I didn’t put you with Warrington. But maybe you would have inspired some action out of him. Poor guy has been bored to tears until recently. The others should be returning closer to the end of the week.”

Joy, Sirius thinks, already intimidated. So far he had only officially met Dorcas and Elias Warrington, who was a quiet, lanky man that seemed to know more about Sirius than he had let on and would just watch Dorcas put Sirius through the ringer after wiping the floor with other recruits. It did make him a bit nervous because last week he was a Black, just a Black with a familiar wand, a familiar pull of magic but now he was none of that. He didn’t know how his performance would change, if it would, and it had him feeling twisted and wrong. 

There was also the block on his core that was now gone. 

The atmosphere turns tense and vaguely smells like the sour scent of sweat and defeat as they venture into the part considered the Academy. It was fucking massive, like someone just smacked a forest and a training facility right in the center of some blank space. Some the recruits are already stretched around, sweating and nearly dead on their feet, which isn’t surprising because it’s fucking early. Sirius only met a few, mainly cause no one was here to make friends, and he just isn’t social before noon. He wasn’t a morning person, panicked runtimes be damned. 

Sirius notices Hadrian lazily stretched out on the ground, arms behind him as a very tall man with dark curly hair gestures heatedly in front of him. He’s, strangely, not in uniform, forearms on display. Hadrian tilts his head, eyebrow twitching. He doesn’t seem amused but the person before him laughs anyway. Hadrian rolls his eyes, flicking his hand. 

“Fuck off, Vance. I’m not scraping you off anything today. I’m stressed enough.” Crowe calls out, earning several quick head turns. The man, Sirius assumes Vance, looks over his shoulder, hands on his hips, tongue out. 

“Don’t be boring, Captain. I’m debriefing Little Captain on what happened while he was away!” 

“I’ve been debriefed.” Hadrian says, dully. “How did this become my job again?”

“When Captain isn’t here, we only listen to you. It’s been like this for years.” Vance huffs. “Even Warrington defers to you and he’s older than Christ himself.”

Hadrian lifts an eyebrow. “He is only 3 years older than us and puts you in the ground often. However, this is an improvement on my reputation.” He deadpans. “I am delighted.”

“Careful, Potter.” Dorcas’ voice rings out. “You almost sound approachable and human. We can’t have that.”

Hadrian sighs deeply, forlorn. “If this is payback for the lack of crepes this morning, I apologize. James wanted biscuits. I did bring you pancakes as penance.”

“What kind?” Dorcas sniffs.

“Cinnamon roll.” Hadrian rubs his face.

“Acceptable.”

Crowe makes an approving noise.

Vance gapes, his high voice startles many. “What the fuck. I want pancakes!”

Crowe clears his throat and Vance jumps, embarrassed. “Your report better be on my desk, Vance. Potter, get up. I have needs for you. I, also, better have pancakes of the cinnamon roll variety. Meadowes, you get the rest while I’m gone. Likely an hour. Bring Warrington with you since Thorncroft is currently engaging in whatever alchemic debauchery he’s doing.” He sighs deeply. “I better not have any damn cats in my office again.”

“Of course, Captain.” Dorcas says cheerfully.

Vance seems put out. 

“Yes, Captain. I may have even added nutella to yours because I am generous and kind.” Hadrian lazily salutes, smoothly rising to his feet. “Don’t pout, Silas. I made blueberry ones just for you.”

Crowe seems immensely pleased.

Vance blushes.

“Do you feed everyone?” Sirius asks, thrown. 

Hadrian blinks. “I keep odd hours. We’ve had a slow summer. I need something to do.”

Sirius blinks. “You go from whatever mystery, violent things you do to cooking?”

Hadrian rubs his chin, thoughtful. “I suppose so. Espionage is generally frowned upon unless there is just cause as are assassinations. I like to stay busy. Oh, I did find a breakfast bomb recipe I want to try.”

“Fuck. Please do.” Vance says dreamily.

That made.. sense. James had referred to Hadrian as a secret Hitman or whatever but Sirius truly thought he was just pulling his leg. Maybe he wasn’t. Hadrian seemed prepared at all times even when they were doing mundane things like grocery shopping. His eyes were always assessing, tracking. Sirius figured he was dangerous especially after the James kidnapping story but it just never fully translated. He has more questions and it seemed like the more he learned about Hadrian Potter, the more it didn’t fit the preconceived notions he had about him beyond being kinda scary.

Crowe snorts. “Keep Potter’s secrets between us, eh, le Fay?”

“Oops.” Hadrian quips. 

“le Fay?” Vance’s head snaps to Sirius. 

“Sirius le Fay, one of our new recruits. le Fay, Silas Vance.”

Vance’s eyes bulge. “Are you doing an assessment? Can I watch? Do you mind?”

Sirius realizes he’s talking to him. He clears his throat, suddenly nervous. “Oh, uh. I don’t care. I think that’s what we’re doing?”

It comes out as a question, which is embarassing.

“Oh, yes.” Crowe hums. “Gotta see where you’re at. House changes are… unusual.” 

“It won’t be that bad. I’m nice.” Hadrian grins. 

Sirius glares at him. “You literally threatened to merge me to the floor.”

Crowe looks at Sirius, eyebrows raised. “You got a warning?”

Vance blinks. “Lucky as fuck. He started a year after I did and I was attached to the ceiling before I could blink.”

“See? I’m nice.” Hadrian states, waving his hand. “Jaime would never forgive me if I didn’t give his bestie a courtesy.”

“I’ve been trying to get in your kid brother’s good graces but he is stubborn.” Vance huffs.

“Family trait. Try feeding him?” Hadrian suggests, amused. He looks at Crowe. “Where do you want it?”

Crowe tilts his head, thoughtful. “Training Room K.”

Hadrian hums. “Alright.” 

No one moves except an increasingly excited Vance, who rocks back and forth on his heels. A low hum fills the air and a series of shadowed hands burst from Hadrian, grasping at the surrounding area and seem to pull sharply at nothing. Sirius watches, awed, as they seem to reconstruct the world around them until they’re situated in a room covered in stone walls that pulse.

“Pretty, aint it?” Crowe grins, stepping away from him. Vance trails after, looking fiendish. They stand off to the side, leaving Sirius and Hadrian in the center.

Sirius swallows quietly, stomach twisting with a spark of dread. He had only experienced one week here and already this felt overwhelming and terrible. Sirius inwardly shakes himself, straightening his shoulder as he flicks his wand into his hand from its wrist holster. Hadrian’s gaze is approving, pale eyes sparking with a frenzied excitement.

“Ready?”

Sirius manages a cocky smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

Hadrian doesn’t respond beyond the slightest quirk of his lips, wand flicking upwards in a quick, almost lazy motion but the spell that follows is anything but. A sharp streak of red shoots towards Sirius faster than he anticipated. He barely manages to bring up a shield and the hard impact has him stumbling back, heart racing wildly in his chest. There was hardly any time to recover as Hadrian is already firing a sweeping hex that forces Sirius to narrowly dodge by diving to one side. He’s on his feet before he can realize, firing back. Hadrian deflects it effortlessly, barely blinking as he neatly side steps each attack, pushing back harder and faster with a precision that Sirius can feel in every spell that slams towards him. This wasn’t like fighting Bellatrix even at the times she was trying to kill him. This was worse. Sirius feels a surge of panic inside him. 

Sirius grits his teeth, sending another hex with more focus, and he can feel how his magic responds to his building frustration, dark and sharp and wild. It simmers just beneath the surface, his wand vibrating in his hand, the dark tendrils of magic slipping free despite his best efforts to draw it back into him. It feels terrible and great and his emotions pingpong vibrantly between embarrassment and anger, at the situation, at himself, at everything. He feels almost like a child again, a wand clutched in his hands as Bellatrix prowled towards him.   

“Hold focus. You’re burning too fast.” Hadrian states evenly, voice calm with an edge Sirius hadn’t noticed before. “That’ll get you killed.”

Sirius feels his frustration flare and swell. He knew Hadrian was right but his control felt almost out of reach. He counters a hex, feeling that primal swell flaring to life and he sees Hadrian’s eyes widen minutely just as the curse surges forward, sharper and more destructive than before. Hadrian deflects it, a brief flicker of awe in his gaze. It crashes into the wall with a devastating crack that breaks apart the heavy stone like paper. Holy shit, Sirius thinks.

“Interesting. I wonder.” Hadrian murmurs. There’s a curiosity in his tone that sends a shiver down Sirius’ spine, like he was a specimen under a microscope. It throws him off balance completely, snagging his attention for a bit too long because Hadrian is moving again, this time faster, wand flicking with precision. Sirius feels the tug before he realizes what’s happening - his wand wrenched from his hand to spin far out of reach. Well, shit, Sirius thinks, unsure what exactly he’s supposed to do without a damn wand because Hadrian isn’t stopping. Sirius reacts before he can think, flicking his hand to summon a shield. Hadrian’s spell crashes into it and the entire thing shimmers before spitting it back out like a violent burst of electricity.

“Oh hell yes.” Hadrian grins, deflecting it.

Holy shit, Sirius thinks, alarmed, heart hammering because Hadrian is moving towards him, closing the distance in a blur of dark crackling shadows. His hand shoots out, catching Sirius by the shoulder, spinning him off balance. Sirius barely has time to react, feeling a bit like Padfoot, cornered and hunched, and he catches Hadrian’s wrists on his next strike, twisting it in a way that felt too natural, too instinctive. His body was reacting before he could think, raw and pressing and he’s spiraling beyond run, run, run because something inside him is snapping and pushing . He’s never felt like this. It feels like adrenaline, if it was too much. It feels bloodthirsty and demanding.  

Hadrian’s gaze is manic, focused and brutal in his offense, but that awe is clear, reverent almost. Sirius dodges a swift punch, a snarl trapped viscerally behind his teeth, and lunges, slamming his fist into Hadrian’s side, who doesn’t hide his surprise, looking almost like Crowe does sometimes, grinning and feral. He hooks his leg around Sirius’ ankle, smashing him deftly into the floor. Sirius gasps as his back hits hard stone, winded and bristling with outrage but Hadrian is on him instantly, pinning him down hard with a strength Sirius hadn’t expected.  

Sirius tries to buck him off, furious, and Hadrian simply shifts, fingers tight around his wrists, legs locked over his thighs. It’s like a fucking boulder has settled on him. Sirius’ skin sparks, a hard tremor coursing through him and Hadrian’s gaze lingers on him, intense, still so, so curious. 

“Hm, that will do.” Hadrian’s voice is much quieter now, almost like he’s speaking to himself. “How hard are you fighting yourself right now?”

Sirius pants beneath him, chest heaving, struggling to get his emotions underwraps. God, it feels like so much, too much and it’s so angry and vibrant and ugly. Distantly, he wants to cry. It's so, so much. How long had this magic been waiting, ready to burst, ready to claw and scream until it was used. His eyes burn. The ground cracks audibly beneath him. “I-I can’t stop.”

“It’s new.” Hadrian reminds him, watchful, patient. “Feel it, yeah? What does it want?”

To rip you open. Sirius swallows. “Too much.”

“What do you want?”

For it to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Sirius feels like he’s drowning. He wishes Isolde was still alive. His father. And he hates it. Hates it. Hates it. Going to go cry to daddy, wittle boy, Bellatrix’s voice coos in his ear. Sirius burns, bright and furious. His parents were dead. It was just him now. Just him. This is mine, Sirius thinks angrily. 

“That’s it.” Hadrian says approvingly, voice so soft. “But you’re still fighting it. Let it flow, Sirius. I can handle whatever spills out.”

He can feel his magic respond, pushing back at him, volatile and burning and it demands and demands and challenges. Sirius pushes back, hot with fury because how fucking dare. They were one, they were the same. There is no magic without him. The ground cracks further, stone walls trembling around them as they war with one another. A terrible noise slips from his lips and it feels like his skin is on fire, feeling his own magic turn at him to assess his worth. 

“Let. It. Flow.” Hadrian presses.

Sirius feels like he’s exploding, feels like he’s got his own teeth around his neck, feels the bite of jaws in his skin, feels Padfoot surging through him like a snarling void of erosive magic, the flutter of wings on a breeze and the talons of a bird rooting into his very being. The room bursts around him, vision sparking like ripples of lightning and Sirius finds himself standing in an empty, dark space, staring at himself, who stares back, muscles tense with raw power, so aggressive and inhuman and Sirius stares and stares and stares. The eyes staring back are that of a raven’s.

There is no you without me, Sirius thinks, watching himself bristle and breathe with thinly concealed fury.

Prove it, his reflection hisses back at him.

Hasn’t Sirius been doing that all his life. Proving what he is, proving what he isn’t. Sirius rips himself from that empty space, feeling that wail of vibrant anger that follows and blinks dazedly at a corner of the ceiling. His neck feels wrong as does his body, like it's been split apart and he knows it isn’t over, that conversation. Sirius realizes he’s got Hadrian’s neck in his mouth but he hasn’t quite bitten down yet, that he isn’t fully human but it hardly feels like Padfoot, it feels so different, so ancient, so primal. He pants, shaking himself out and his vision snaps back to normal as does his head, shrinking as though he’s partially shifted and stares up at Hadrian, who stares down at him, a mix of awe and something Sirius doesn’t understand flickering across his face.

“That’s it.” Hadrian grins and Sirius’ heart skips a beat. He slowly rises to his feet, offering Sirius a hand. “Control comes with time but I like what I’ve seen so far.”

“Fuck, me too.” Crowe’s voice rings out. “Haven’t had to repair a training room in a hot minute.”

Sirius startles, embarrassed, and clasps Hadrian’s hand, feeling a strange flutter in his chest as he’s pulled to his feet. His entire body aches from the fight but his mind is buzzing. Vance stands beside Crowe, eyes narrowed and assessing as he regards Sirius.

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Hadrian cracks his neck. “Give him to me, Crowe.”

Vance gapes. “No fucking way. That’s not fair! You better share, Potter. I’ve got use for him. Warrington would have a field day with this.”

“I would.” Elias Warrington’s voice rings out. He’s standing near a cracked door, arms crossed against his chest and there is a dark pleasure in his face. “Joint custody?”

Hadrian pulls a face. “I hate sharing but I suppose I’ll make an exception since it's your job and all.”

Elias looks incredibly pleased. Sirius has many questions, like did Hadrian know the Warringtons have been watching him, did he know about the oath? Vance appears on the edge of a conniption.

“Three way custody!” He demands hotly.

Crowe watches them dissolve into bickering with a serene smile. Clearly this was a common occurrence.

“I’m not fired?” Sirius blurts out. Several aghast looks snap to him. He wilts a bit.

Crowe’s eyebrows shoot up. “If you want me to hunt you down to drag you back, sure. Don’t threaten me with a good time. I’m a better tracker than Potter and Lovegood.”

Lovegood? Sirius does not voice this question. He simply wants this day to be over.

Hadrian sniffs. “I should hope so, sir.”

“Alright. Alright. Little shit.” Crowe snorts. “Show me where these pancakes are. Y’all went and got me excited. I’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Didn’t your wife tell you to stop eating your feelings, sir?” Elias asks, innocent.

“I remember that howler.” Vance comments idly. 

“You’re both in my business for no reason.” Crowe chirps happily.

Hadrian huffs, amused, then sends Sirius a threatening look. “You better eat or I won’t provide additional warnings.”

Sirius nods rapidly, cowed. 

Notes:

Whew, alright. So! Roderick Crowe is black. This will not be discussed since Sirius already met him but I felt the need to put this here so you can all imagine this bigger, chipper black man who has a stern wife, who we will meet at some point.

Anyway! Next chapter will contain le Potters and some curious magics and Potter brother meddling behaviors.

Any guesses on which Lovegood works for the DLE? :side eye:

Hints: they were not always a Lovegood, their dad is a huge cunt :3c if you are familiar with my works, then this should be easy to guess. Maybe ehe.

Chapter 5: Potteries

Summary:

A Black's obsessive anger has nothing against a Potter's brutal protective streak.

Notes:

No TWs, I believe. Uhm. Yeah truly can't see anything here beyond language but if you know me, you know there will be language. Anywhooo

- Effie's wonder child, Padfoot Potter le Fay
- Hadrian is a messy bitch (surprising no one)
- le Fay lore-ish drops
- Sirius le Fay vs Potter Men ™
- stwange magics
- Euphemia "Hot to trot" vs Hadrian, heavily charmed "How scary"

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius was ready for the weekend. He really just wanted to curl up under his bed and sleep for a lifetime. While Dorcas was an exceptional, picky taskmaster, Hadrian was brutal in comparison. He pushed, pushed hard like he was trying to gauge where Sirius’ seams had loosened so he could assist in showing how to tighten them. Warrington was almost as bad but his feedback was helpful if not cryptic like “you’re making him upset. Loosen up, le Fay”. Vance was easy in comparison to both of them. It was exhausting and he’d end most days dead on his feet before even reaching the elevator. Sirius knows he asked for this, knows he needs to practice control towards that thing inside him that felt sentient most times. A year from now, Sirius would be able to look back and nod and say meh, wasn’t that bad. But at the moment, it was terrible.

Reframe, Sirius thinks sharply. It was growth. Growth was painful. Agonizing at most but it was a temporary pain that led to extraordinary things. Sirius scrubs his face tiredly, crouching in the shower after washing the day away. He’s so tired. Sirius is grateful that most of his friends have internships because he just doesn’t think he could take to socializing like he used to. He has received more letters, tentative questions on how he’s feeling, if he needs anything. Sirius doesn’t need babying. He’s been babied enough between the two Potters he lives with.

Sirius has never eaten so much in his life. Still, he responds to their questions, their gentle probing and essentially reminds them that he is more than his past relationship even if the ending hurts worse than anything he ever imagined. James did meet with Remus and Peter at some point but came back seething and frustrated in a way Sirius hadn’t seen James Potter in a long time. Sirius ended up finally reading the Prophet and he was right, Walburga did blame his shameful removal from her House as his own fault despite the constant pushback on what Sirius could have possibly done to garner such a response. It was odd seeing her face again. She seemed different, rattled and rack thin so unlike the proud woman he would stare down. Walburga’s response to incessant questions was biting and simple. 

“This Noble and Most Ancient House does not need your approval.”

A reporter had tried to talk to Sirius after work this past Wednesday because apparently the public wanted answers like what did he do, how was he alive, what was it like. It was invasive and terrible and Sirius wasn’t even able to tell her to fuck off before Hadrian and Elias appeared at his side like a set of scary sentinels that sent her scampering with a few well placed threatening smiles. Sirius hadn’t been able to talk to Elias alone yet beyond training but he did want to visit the vaults before coming to him with questions. He also had reservations in general because he didn’t want Warrington to feel obligated to answer anything. 

Sirius, strangely, did receive a letter from Narcissa and several from Lucretia, which could have easily been just one considering how much language his aunt used when talking about Walburga Black, however she was happy to hear he was, in fact, alive and had almost no recovery time. Narcissa’s was a weird mix of apology and berating and he didn’t bother responding at all. He wasn’t about to defend himself to Cissa of all fucking people. It did make Sirius more worried for the upcoming Wizengamot session seeing as Regulus would be 18 by then. But Monty and Effie were coming by today so hopefully, Monty would agree to be his proxy or keep an ear out for him. 

He didn’t want to overwhelm his best friend’s father considering Fleamont Potter had already agreed to remain Lord Potter until James turned 35. He wanted his sons to experience their lives and do what they wanted before thinking about committing to politics. Sirius was a bit thrown that Hadrian wasn’t going to be Lord Potter when James had told him during their 5th year but James simply snorted and said Hadrian wasn’t fit for Potter because of how he was and decided to defer that heirship to James when he turned 7 after discussing it with their parents. Every Yama needs a Shani, James had said. There was apparently another house that fit Hadrian much better, that was remaining hidden until Hadrian made his decision, but Sirius wasn’t told what it was.

Sirius drags himself out of the shower, tying his hair into an ugly shirt. He dries himself in lazy motions, slumping on the edge of the tub as he stares aimlessly at the ceiling. There is a faint cacophony of noise signaling the arrival of the parental Potters. Sirius could easily make out James’ excited shriek and Monty’s high laughter. A shrill scream sounds through the air then quick silence and more laughter. Oh, must’ve seen Gatsby, Sirius thinks, forcing himself to his feet. Umbra still hadn’t emerged but his egg was becoming hotter with each passing day so Sirius figures they’d be meeting soon. 

Hadrian had charmed the porch door to open for whenever Gatsby deigned to come inside and Sirius would often wake from nightmares with that massive, boned body curled around him. It was an interesting comfort. Sirius had cried into his mane on numerous, embarrassing occasions in their short time together but Gatsby didn’t seem to mind, would curl his long neck around him and join him on runs when Sirius would drag himself out of bed long before the sun rose. 

Sirius steps into the hallway once he’s dressed, hair still damp but pulled into a sloppy bun that will likely lead to tangles but that was for future, weekend Sirius to worry about. Effie spots him first as he descends the stairs, hurrying over to tug him into a crushing hug. Sirius melts into her, wrapping his arms around her ribs and greedily inhales the floral scent of her perfume, the soft swell of her magic. Euphemia was the second person Sirius had ever hugged, James was the first. Even in childhood, Regulus didn’t hug, would lay his head on Sirius’ shoulder but that’s the closest they ever got to it. His father never hugged, would clap his shoulder or curl a hand around the back of his neck and press their foreheads together. Walburga never hugged, would rather make him feel small, feel like the scum of the earth.

But the Potters did, taught him where to put his arms, how tight to hold, that it was okay to lean into the person, that it was okay to be held. 

“Hello, sweet boy.” Effie coos. “I am loving this color on you! So dashing. Mipsy will lose her mind.”

Sirius laughs. “Hi, Ef. Just tell her I’ve gone gray.”

“Ha! I am going gray, silly.” Effie gathers Sirius’ face in her warm palms. “Mm, yes. So handsome, my little wonder child. I have brought you rasgulla.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Sirius whimpers and Effie grins, pinching his nose. 

“You are the only one with some taste. Too sweet, maa, they say. Pah! Outrageous.”

“They do eat turkey.” Sirius reminds her.

Effie pulls a face. “See? Trash.”

“We are right here.” James huffs, affronted. “Turkey is delicious.”

They both turn to him, eyes wide.

“That’s just sick.” Sirius says.

“You clearly didn’t get your taste from me.” Effie says at the same time.

They look at each other, delighted, and burst into laughter. Effie wraps an arm around Sirius, tugging him into the livingroom where Monty immediately rises to his feet to rush over to them. He sweeps Sirius into his arms, squeezing him tightly, and Effie coos. Fleamont is still so tall and bulky despite his age, which he clearly gave to his sons because Euphemia was barely 5’5 in shoes. Monty rocks him back and forth and pulls back with a wide grin.

He frowns suddenly. “Did you get shorter?”

Sirius balks. “I am a reasonable height! We can’t all be mountain men! Or giants!”

He was 5’10, damnit!

“He’s almost your height, Ef.” Monty says, measuring them.

“Dear.” Effie chastises with a smile. “He has grown at least to 5’7.”

Sirius turns to her, betrayed. “Effie!”

“Certainly 5’7.” Hadrian agrees, striding by them with a tray of pretty tea snacks and little sandwiches. He gives Sirius a scrutinizing look then smiles sweetly. “Ehhh, maybe 5’6.”

“Damn, Pads. Have you grown at all since first year?” James snickers.

Sirius gapes, offended, or he would be offended if they all weren’t so tickled by this conversation. Ugh, having people to love has made him soft and gooey. He huffs, crossing his arms, sulking even as a gleeful Fleamont Potter sits him on the couch. Euphemia plops on his other side, James and Hadrian in a set of armchairs across from them. The coffee table is covered in food and a delicate tea set, filled with delicious smelling tea. The Potter siblings are, hilariously, in matching moose onesies which seems to be James’ idea because he looks incredibly pleased while Hadrian seems resigned and generally unbothered. 

“Let’s get all the hard talks out the way first.” Monty begins, steepling his hands together. “Siri, I understand you have little interest in politics but I want to ensure you are supported during this time. You shouldn’t have to choose between what you want to do and what you have to do simply because you need to potentially protect yourself from your previous family that is filled with cunts.”

Hadrian snorts in heavy amusement.

“Baba.” James chastises, grinning. 

“Your baba is right.” Effie nods in approval. “We’re not trying to influence any decisions but we want you safe and happy, Siri. Have you, at least, considered a proxy for your seat yet? If so, who? We will need to speak with them to ensure their interests are aligned with ours before you make an informed decision. The Blacks will be returning this upcoming session.”

Monty nods, frowning heavily.

Sirius’ chest tightens with gratitude. “Uhm, I was actually going to ask if you’d be willing to do that.”

Monty’s relief is palpable. He wheezes. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“Baba.” Hadrian chuckles. 

“I told you he’d ask, Monty.” Effie sniffs. 

“I didn’t want to assume.” Monty argues. “It’s a delicate decision!”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with it.” Sirius tells him. 

Monty’s eyes go a bit misty. He clears his throat softly. “Very well. I accept. I know very little about the le Fays but I am aware of their aligning with the dark. I won’t ask you to change that. James and I have discussed moving the Potter seat to the gray fraction in support.”

James gives Sirius a charming grin. Sirius’ heart twists. Dumb deer.

“There is another matter.” Hadrian hums. “According to Wizengamot policies, ancient houses consist of 10 seats. Nobles are 5. Since Sirius’ house is ancient, hm, I have reservations but for planning purposes, we’ll put them in ancient until I get confirmation. That’s 10. I’ve spoken to Lord Carrow recently. You’d have his allegiance by being Sirius’ proxy. Another 10. He did say Yaxley will follow suit since they’re besties or whatever. Flint doesn’t care for the Wizengamont but did announce Carrow as his proxy for this occasion. That’s another 15. Crabbe will follow Yaxley since he’s on the outs currently with Malfoy but I wouldn’t hold too much sway in that. However, Fawley and Abastor would follow Carrow as well. Regardless, we’d have a good handle on the grays and some darks. The lights will follow you even if Potter shifts to gray since you have Prewett, Longbottom and Shacklebolt in your back pocket.”

Hadrian tilts his head. “If Black tries anything, we’d have many ears whether it's through the Wizengamot or not. As of now, Malfoy is, of course, riding his curtails. Lestrange will be in alliance with him likely due to Bellatrix Black’s recent engagement. Goyle is up Malfoy’s ass. However, Greengrass is wary of Regulus as are most of the grays due to his actions this summer. Where Greengrass goes, Nott will likely follow as will Bulstrode but Parkinson will be a deciding factor if either of those three houses decide between Black and le Fay. We likely won’t see a decision being made until the next session.”

How thorough, Sirius thinks. He doesn’t think he’s worth such trouble but he doesn’t voice this or he’d likely get smacked upside the head. “That’s so much.”

Hadrian raspberries. “Fuck, I know. For schmoozing purposes, I’d probably target Nott, baba. He’ll be your in for Parkinson and he’s… simpler than Bulstrode, who likes to play games and have his cock sucked or whatever. Although, you could just go straight to Parkinson. If your debates with Orion Black have done anything positive, it would be having Parkinson’s opinion of you shift. You’re a strong voice. I think moving to gray, like you and Jay discussed, will also make it more palpable for him to hear you out. It will feel like a popularity contest for a hot minute because Regulus is new and Malfoy will be fanning his flame but I do think the disownment scandal will come back to bite him in the ass, however. This can be a toss up, some may think he is bold for his actions, some may think him foolish, especially after Sirius’ new house drops.”

Monty nods thoughtfully. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this, Hari.”

Hadrian’s lips quirk. “I do listen even if I’m bored. I’m not James.”

“Hey!” James cries out, embarrassed.  

Hadrian ruffles his hair and James blushes deeply.

Sirius blinks. Wait. He doesn’t remember telling Hadrian he was related to the Carrows. Fuck, he didn’t even know if it was Lucan or if Lucan Carrow was still alive but why else would Carrow agree? God, Sirius is so overwhelmed. “Lord Carrow. Is that Lucan?”

Hadrian nods, eyes glinting. 

Monty’s head snaps to Sirius. “You know Lord Carrow?”

Sirius slowly shakes his head. “Lucan was my mother’s father. I didn’t know he was still alive.”

“Oh,” James blinks. He looks at Hadrian. “Was that your meeting Tuesday?”

“Mhm. It's not hard to put two and two together. Anyone who is aware of the Blacks would know Sirius spends ample time with us. Lucan intercepted me at work.” Hadrian says simply, shrugging. “His remaining niece and nephews are cunts so I was surprised at how pleasant he was. He’s already listening out for anything to be wary about.”

“He didn’t remarry?” Sirius asks. Isolde was his only child?

Hadrian shakes his head. “Nah.”

“He came to the Ministry? Did he not want to see me?” Sirius blurts out. His face goes hot, embarrassed. Euphemia lays a reassuring hand on his arm and gives him a gentle squeeze.

Hadrian makes a soothing noise. “That’s not the case. He said something to the degree that he wanted to reach out directly to you after everything happened but felt it would be unwanted given the length of time and to avoid unnecessary grief. If it helps, his door is open for you should you want it.”

That wasn’t Lucan’s fault though. Ugh, Sirius was really over all this keeping secrets bullshit. Maybe he’ll go to the vaults sooner than later. A positive is that he has… a grandfather again, who may not be a cunt. Then again, Pepe was a cunt and scary at times but Sirius enjoyed his company and commentary and general taste in scones. I should write to him, he thinks, mentally adding the task to his growing list.

“Ok.” Sirius swallows.

“In addition, I’m willing to reveal our additional house for this situation.” Hadrian tells them. “So another, well, 15, I guess due to it being an imperial. I’d recommend keeping it with the darks.”

James appears smug.

Monty’s eyebrows shoot up. “Honey, you were already so thorough. This is enough.”

“I agree. Baby, you don’t have to.” Effie agrees, appearing shocked.

Sirius doesn’t understand what’s exactly happening here but he is here for the drama and tea.

“I refuse to let Black put his hands anywhere near what’s mine. I don’t like weakness. I want additional weight.” Hadrian waves a lazy hand. “There’s no better time. As long as baba feels comfortable handling it in the meantime, I don’t care. Jaime and I talked it over already. Plus I’ll need something to do once I retire beyond opening a bakery or some shit since Jay will still likely be trying to take over the Auror department. I’m not interested in taking Rufus’ place if Roderick or Vanessa doesn’t. While I have considered captaining the Brigade eventually because my boss is a pushy mongrel, running the department doesn’t interest me like field work does. So, if you’re down, baba, I’m down.” 

Sirius’ chest feels tight. The Potters were truly too good to him.

Monty studies Hadrian for a long, quiet moment, meeting his son’s even gaze head on. “You’re certain?”

“As the heart attacks I often use as a cover up.” Hadrian says simply. 

Effie says something in hindi, wagging a stern finger at him, and he grins, settling back in his seat. 

Sirius leans back on the couch. “Does this mean I can know your super secret house now?”

This earns several startled looks. James frowns. “Super secret? Pretty sure I had told you.”

Sirius frowns. “You did not.”

James frowns deeper. “Uh hu- Oh. Wait. You fell asleep in the middle of my story!”

“Prongs,” Sirius rubs his face. “If this is what I think it is, you literally told me it was a bedtime story that Monty would tell you. We were in bed! You kept rubbing my head!”

“That doesn’t mean you fall asleep!” James argues.

The others watch them, looking back and forth as though spectating an interesting tennis match. Sirius finds that he’s at the ends of his wits because that is exactly what a bedtime story is. He may not have had a sunny Potter childhood but he isn’t an idiot despite popular opinion. 

“That is exactly what that means, you dumb deer! You know I can’t stay awake with head rubs!”

James crosses his arms. He sniffs. “Well. I was giving you a backstory that led up to the amazing reveal and you conked out like some drooling, old dog.”

Sirius gapes, offended. “I do not drool.”

“You do.” James argues heatedly. “I slept in your bed for almost a year! You drool! You drooled all over me! It was incredibly cute and sweet. You make these tiny whistling noises but still. You. Drool.”

“Well. You… You snore!” Sirius sniffs. “And sometimes honk. Or hoot. Sometimes both. You also squeeze me too tight so I can’t leave. It's endearing.”

James gasps, outraged. “I do not! You take that-”

“You do. You’re a damn barnacle, Jay.” Hadrian intercepts smoothly, appearing amused. “And you do drool. I also hear whistling sometimes, Riri.”

Sirius’ face goes hot.

Monty perks up. “Riri? Oh, I love that. Stolen.”

Hadrian sends James a smug look that he returns with a scowl.

Sirius whimpers, heavily embarrassed and realizing too much about himself. He pushes his face into his hands, cheeks burning. “God, this is the worst. Put me out of my misery and just tell me the house, please.”

“Riri must be desperate to know.” Monty hums.

“How cute. Is Sirius le Fay saying please, Jaime?” Hadrian gasps in faux shock.

“So cute. I think he is, Hadz.” James agrees. 

“Heaven’s help me. It's the House of Peverell.” Effie sighs heavily.

James makes a soft, wounded noise. “Maa, I wanted to do it.”

“Then you should’ve spoken faster.” Effie sends him a serene smile.

“You know maa is quick, Jay.” Hadrian grins.

Sirius stares at his lap, winded, thrown, and what the actual fuck. He has many questions and none of them are making sense because what the fuck. Peverell. The Peverells. Weren’t they dead? Well, weren’t the le Fays? Oh my god, Sirius thinks. I’m dragging secret ancient houses from their graves. He has become, dreadfully, some coffin bandit! Maybe Sirius was cursed. This feels so selfish and wrong and he has already dragged them enough into all of his bullshit and he’s already asked Monty to take more onto his plate. Sirius rubs his face.

“You don’t have to do that.” He tells Hadrian. “You’ve done enough for me already.”

“Nah. You’re being dumb.” Hadrian replies easily. “I don’t do what I don’t want to do.”

“Potter trait.” James agrees. “Never in halves.”

“Full circles only.” Monty chirps. 

Sirius looks to Euphemia, who sends him a sunny smile. He turns back to Hadrian. “Is this a descendant thing?”

Hadrian inclines his head. “Yes and no.”

Sirius blinks. “You are such an ominous shit.”

Hadrian winks at him. Sirius hates that his face goes hot in response.

“Try raising him.” Monty mutters. “Crafty boy. Oh, speaking of crafty, that reminds me. You boys went to school with one Severus Snape? Well, I assume you likely did because he mentioned you, Riri.”

James nods slowly, frowning.

Sirius blinks, thrown. “Yes? Wait, how do you know Sev?”

“Oh. I guess he enjoyed my suggestion.” Hadrian hums.

Sirius looks at him, still thrown. “What did you do?”

Hadrian blinks, innocent. 

“Well,” Monty seems pleased with his eldest son’s increasingly meddlesome, messy behavior. “I will also be a proxy for the Prince seat as Mr. Snape is the last known descendant and, I quote, would like to do what he can to help that big headed idiot. Without the murder, of course. He is doing very well with his internship right now so he cannot take such dire risks. However, he did mention that if this situation is still going on a year from now, he would be down. You keep such strange company, Riri.”

God, Snape was such a dick sometimes. Also, what is this? Him keeping strange company? Strange, murderous company while their son, who sits across from them was the same fucking type of person. To a certain degree so was James. Not to mention some of the friends they share like Cas, Lils, and Marls. Maybe I attract a type, Sirius thinks. Maybe some sentient being is writing his story in the stars and finds it amusing to place these devoted, scary people in his life. He doesn’t quite know how to feel with so many people stuck in his corner despite the things he’s done. He doesn’t know how to express his appreciation.

“Doesn’t he? Siri always inspires such strong reactions. This Mr. Snape seemed like such a nice boy.” Effie says happily. 

James chokes. 

Sirius sends him a look because they weren’t any better. There is a sharp clatter that comes from upstairs, startling everyone aside from Hadrian who is already on his feet with his wand drawn. There are a series of dark shields encasing each of them. Sirius would love to see Big Potter on the field. He’s only caught glimpses of Hadrian’s prowess but his reaction time was phenomenal and inspiring. Hadrian pauses midway, head tilted, and slowly sits back in his seat, leaning forward with his elbows folded over his knees, eyes locked on the living room entrance. James looks like he can barely contain his glee. Hadrian flicks his hand after a quiet moment and the shields disappear.

He sits back, tucking his wand away. “I guess I need to rig your window. Your horse has knocked over your egg in his attempts to get inside, Riri. He was successful.”

Sirius huffs, embarrassed. “What a bandit.”

“We did meet your horse friend. Gatsby, I believe. Did you get a baby owl, Riri?” Monty asks, excited. “It’s about time!”

Sirius rubs his face. “He hasn’t hatched yet but it does feel hotter.”

Effie blinks. “A hot egg?”

“Pads has a phoenix now!” James chirps.

Monty chokes. 

“I’m glad he hasn’t hatched. I didn’t make anything vegetarian for lunch.” Hadrian mutters. “Not sure he’s a regular phoenix though but I’ve also never seen one leave their ashes in gilded eggs so who the fuck am I. Oh. I need to water the garden. I believe the tomatoes are ready.”

“How are your basil plants doing?” Effie asks.

Hadrian pulls a face. “I mixed up my shit so I ended up with mandrakes. I used most of them for distractions on my last mission and sent the rest to Snape and Parkinson. The least they can do is be useful elsewhere. Felt like I was raising damn children. At least I didn't poison anyone on accident this time.” 

Monty chokes, again.

James sends his brother a look. “Haz, you don’t have to feed everyone.”

“You leave Hari alone, Jay. He has developed a wonderful habit! Your brother cooks his feelings, you eat them.” Effie chastises. “I did bring a summer salad with me. Siri’s handsome friend is welcome to it if he hatches today. Cheese and dressing are on the side because my eldest is lactose intolerant and my young one needs to watch his sugar intake. I have also added chickpeas because you all need more protein. Siri, you look thinner. You will be eating extra. I have told you that while you are welcome to keep up this cardio, you must fuel your body so it can continue to support you.”

“Ooh, burn.” Hadrian laughs. His mother sends him a look, which he winks at.

“Cheeky brat.” Euphemia says, lifting her chin. “Do I make myself clear, James Potter and Sirius Potter le Fay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” James sniffs.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sirius mutters. 

“Is no one going to ask why Riri has a phoenix?” Monty asks, looking lost.

“Oh.” Sirius blushes, embarrassed. “Uhm. He was my mom’s but he was her grandmother’s first. His name is Umbra. I guess he’s the family bird?” 

Effie swoons. “He sounds like a polite young man.” 

“This is the perfect transition into our next topic.” Monty chirps. “Tell us about your Gringotts visit, Riri. Your grandfather is Lucan-”

“If he wants to, Monty.” Effie interjects, glaring at her husband.

Monty nods quickly, backpedaling. “If you want to! No pressure!”

“I don’t mind at all.” Sirius laughs. “Oh. Ah. Before I do. I think…” He rubs his face. “Uhm. Maybe I’m just fucking insane or something but can you see this?”

He concentrates on the color blonde, specifically Marlene’s pretty shade of ash, and Dorcas’ face and James chokes hard on his tea snack. He gags, clutching his throat, and Hadrian thumps him soundly on the back. Sirius supposes they can, in fact, see the change. Oh, geeze, he thinks, pushing his face into his hands. Sirius adjusts his features back to normal.

“I did have suspicions.” Hadrian says thoughtfully.

“You looked like a pretty Malfoy.” James wheezes.

Effie glares at him. “Don’t you ever slander Siri like this in my presence again, James Yama Potter!”

James cows. “Yes, maa.”

“What… Why did you have suspicions?” Monty asks slowly, awed.

“Oh. Riri turned partially into some weird worg, or whatever, and attempted to take my throat out.” Hadrian waves off dismissively when everyone balks at him. “It's fine. It was cute. I was sufficiently entertained. You aren’t Metamorphmagus though. It’s something else.”

Sirius nods absently. “Yeah. It doesn’t seem to be linked to my emotions at all. Andy’s daughter is a Metamorphmagus but I’ve never seen her change from being a weird humanoid type baby.”

“Morgana le Fay was said to be able to become a bird at will.” Monty says thoughtfully.

“Would that not be transfiguration related?” Sirius asks.

“Not necessarily.” James chimes in, ever in his element. “There have been instances where wixen can shift their appearance beyond being a Metamorphmagus or an animagus. It's linked to some dark, blood magic.” He panics, likely noticing Sirius’ crestfallen expression. “I mean, that’s not necessarily bad! But think about it, yeah? This has gotta be linked to your recent heritage. You’ve been having more nightmares than usual and you had that block on your core-”

“He had a what?!” Effie demands hotly.

“Ehh, let’s do the Gringotts recap first.” Hadrian says cheerfully. “Maa, you’ll raise your blood pressure. Take it out on a scone.”

Effie glares at him, pale eyes blazing. “Hadrian Shani Potter-”

“Scone.” Hadrian chirps, leaning over to press a divine smelling scone into Effie’s hands. “Oooh, it’s strawberry and hazelnut. Wow, such a dutiful son, I am. Ensuring my beautiful, terrifying mother, who raised me in her image, has her snacks so she can be scary at a reasonable level without causing her wonderful sons and doting husband duress.”

“Good thinking, Hari.” Monty sighs heavily, relieved. “Eat your scone, dear.”

Effie eats her scone furiously. 

Notes:

Believe the boys took after their respective parents. James & Monty, gentle support but down for the business, would die for you vs Effie & Hadrian, quick to anger and will break your spine in 6 places, has killed for you ehe

Golden Retrievers with their Belgian Malinois (and in some cases, WL German Shepherds).

Idk Effie wrote herself. I wanted her to be lowkey about that life, which I guess will show later eheeeee.

Also, we're doing the Wizengamot a biiit different this go round but I think ittle Reggie may be a bit shook :c poor babu.

Chapter 6: Sanguimancer’s Lullaby

Summary:

More answers. A mother's fury.

Notes:

TWs, discussions of blood magic, blood mention, discussions of death, discussions of injury, discussions of Sirius running away, discussions of abandoment and core trauma, Isolde le Fay is her own TW tbh, non consensual use of magical blocks

- Sirius and his weird birds
- le Fay lore drop-ish
- Lucan Carrow's watchful eye vs The House of Black scandals
- Isolde "about that life" le Fay vs Sirius "wow *starry eyed" le Fay
- Walburga (derogatory)
- Sirius' discussion with his magic
- Alaric, the emoting Goblin
- Potter "Ready for Violence" Brothers

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Vault 1.” Alaric announces smoothly, cranking a strange mechanism that stalls the cart completely. He had, essentially, demanded he be the one to show Sirius Isolde’s vault which was unusual given his stature and that he had literal underlings. Sirius was not about to argue with his goblin, especially given his age. He was sure Alaric could transfigure him into a mouse or some shit and simply drag him down by his tail. They’re incredibly deep under Gringotts, having passed an enslaved dragon, of all things, on the way down. Alaric simply sneered, giddy, when Sirius shot him a look. 

Sirius climbs out of the cart, mesmerized by the set of large doors before him. They’re made of dark gold, heavy patterns weaving around the sculpture of a raven holding an intimidating looking box. It’s covered in spikes and dripping silver. Alaric procures the vault key, moving forward and the raven turns to face them, mouth dropping open. 

“I am a bond that endures through both light and dark,” The raven intones in a gravelly voice. “Hide me away, and still I leave my mark. I grow in strength when torn apart, yet always bear a cost - what am I?”

Sirius is gratified for his practice with that damn eagle on the Ravenclaw dorm entrance whenever he’d visit Pandora and Barty. He fucking hated riddles. It was pure fate he never met a Sphinx because they’d end up fighting for the sheer audacity. Alaric waits patiently, watching Sirius mull over the raven’s words. Sirius thinks of these family secrets he’s unearthed, the part of his magic locked firmly away now free in the face of his disownment. Oh, he thinks.

“Is the answer legacy?” Sirius asks. 

The raven stares at him for a long, quiet moment before its feathers ripple and spread across the door, revealing a singular key hole. The drama, Sirius thinks happily. Alaric notices his amusement, snorting lowly, as he inserts the vault key and twists. A sharp gust of wind bursts through the doors, slamming them wide open, and Sirius can feel that same magic from Isolde’s letter, how it surrounds him so completely and coos in gentle excitement. Sirius’ heart stutters in his chest and, strangely, mourns the loss as it disappears. His emotion is quickly swept aside upon realizing the sheer size of this vault. It was massive, stacked to the ceiling with rows upon rows of gold that had spilled into a large open compartment that contained, you guessed it, more gold.

“Fucking hell.” Sirius mutters, awed. 

“If it helps,” Alaric clears his throat, smug. “This is only 5% of your family’s monetary value. I am very pleased with the work I’ve done. Such a fruitful relationship.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius whimpers, trailing after him. There are gilded chests made of gold, a wide variety of beautiful, expensive trinkets and items. In the very center is a portrait, framed in a golden web of vines and songbirds with rubies for eyes. Isolde sleeps in a cozy looking armchair, her chin supported by her hand, long hair spilling over her shoulder. It's more silver than the picture in Hadrian’s charms book, more like Sirius’ own than the picture of her in her letter. Her outfit is almost scandalous for a pureblood woman. 

Isolde is dressed in a pair of pleated shorts with a silver belt clasp, silk, rich maroon blouse hanging low and open. There is a simple, silver choker around her neck. Sirius needs to know where she got these knee high boots from because it's giving him hives and he needs to wear them immediately. Focus, Sirius thinks, gingerly stepping up to the portrait.

“When you are ready, ring this bell.” Alaric gestures to a small silver bell hanging near the entryway. He bows deeply and departs before Sirius can say anything else. The doors close behind him. 

Sirius swallows, turning back to Isolde’s portrait. He gently runs his hand along the frame. A small curl of pain bursts from his fingertips and trickles of blood run along the gilded grooves. Sirius draws his hand back, startled, turning it over to see his skin free of cuts. He looks back, confused, watching in quiet awe as the birds turn to him in unison. The portrait frame glows hot with his blood. Isolde’s expression twitches. 

Sirius swallows quietly. “Hi, mom.” 

Her nose wrinkles, head lifting slowly like coming awake from a long dream. Her eyes open, all stunning violet and bright and that gaze snaps to him. A ripple of furious emotion passes over Isolde’s face and she pushes herself from her seat in quick, frazzled movements. The portrait surface stops her, startling them both. Bitter grief settles in her warm gaze before it’s hidden under a pretty smile. Isolde’s hands are pressed against the portrait.

“Sirius!” Isolde beams. “Oh, look at you! I told that man you would be beautiful. A Black is handsome, he said. Pfft. le Fays are never just handsome. Silly man. Ahhh, I never thought I’d get to see you!”

Sirius laughs, startled. His throat feels tight. He doesn’t even know what to say to her, how to feel, because she already seems so much more than Walburga already. Isolde seems to notice his hesitance, smile warm and reassuring and she does not return to her armchair, simply settles on the floor before him, gesturing at him.

Sirius joins her, crossing his legs. He can’t stop staring and neither can she, both taking in the other, the details. Isolde’s smile favors her right side as Sirius’ does, her hair is smooth and wavy instead of the ringlets in her Yusura Morvain picture. How stunning her eyes are. Sirius hadn’t expected her to be so young, despite how young his father appeared when he was born. Isolde can’t be more than 21, her jaw sharper with a healthy glow and she appears so, so alive. Sirius still doesn’t quite know what to say.

“I like your boots.” He says, feeling a bit lame.

Isolde perks up, lifting her leg easily. “Aren’t they great? I met a man in… Hm, where was it?” She frowns deeply. “Istanbul, I believe. He was a shoemaker for this old wizarding family. The Tullys. A bunch of fat fucks, if you ask me.” 

Sirius laughs, delighted, and she grins at him, continuing, “I had been on this exploration kick because the mountains of Ama Dablam are especially pretty during sunset but I only had shoes! I didn’t want to stand out too much with the muggles. Papa was already cross with my attempts of being,” Isolde clears her throat. “A wild woman despite being promised.” She waves a hand. “I told him I was young. This is how I met Asli, the shoemaker. Papa refused to bother with nature despite going on numerous safaris, that hypocrite, but Orion did come with me after convincing me to get boots. Have you ever been in a boot shop?”

Sirius nods his head, amused. 

Isolde pulls a face. “Then you know how boring the selections can be. Only catered to men at the time. Offensive. Men can dress so boring at times . Asli was the only person willing to assist in my ideals. Your father was disturbed once he saw Asli’s creation for me, but what could he say? He wanted boots, I have boots! If he had specific visions, he should’ve voiced them.”

Sirius laughs. “He fucked around and found out.”

“Indeed.” Isolde sighs happily. “Ugh, you are just so cute. How old are you now?”

“I turn 19 this year.” Sirius tells her.

Isolde’s eyebrows shoot up. “19?! I’m so glad I planned for, at least, 73 years of missed birthdays. This,” She points to a heavy looking chest near the piles of gold. “I suppose, you could say, is my culmination of birthday gifts. Orion tried to talk me out of it but I did have hope that one day you’d know where you came from even if it wasn’t practical or safe. Regardless, I wanted to be prepared. No beautiful boy of mine will be made aware of me and not be smothered by my affections.”

Sirius’ chest feels tight at her words, her affirmations. “I wish I could’ve had you sooner.”

“Oh, my little mango, I wish the same. But we are here now.” Isolde says gently. “If you are here, I imagine something happened with your father but that’s not all, is it?” 

“Ah,” Sirius swallows quietly. “Orion had a second son with Walburga. I didn’t want to be Lord Black and papa finally agreed. His son disowned me this summer.”

The portrait shatters, dark, ugly fury settling on Isolde’s face like a chasm of hot magic. Her mouth is a thin, devastating line. Sirius didn’t even know portraits could contain magic but this entire place was drenched in hers. Isolde flicks her hand sharply and the portrait mends itself. She seethes quietly before squaring her shoulders.

“You wear a glamor on your neck. Where else?”

God, she’s fucking perceptive. “My back.”

Isolde bristles with anger. “Where was your father?”

Sirius swallows hard. “He died in March but he was bedridden before that. There wasn’t much he could do anymore. The rest is just a result of Walburga in the aftermath. I ran away from home after.”

Isolde’s expression breaks completely. There is despair and devastation and so much fury that it makes Sirius flinch. Isolde looks away sharply, tears in her eyes. She clears her throat, mustering an apologetic smile that wobbles and breaks. Isolde stares at nothing for a long, quiet moment. She whispers, “I have failed you both.”

Isolde turns back to him before he can respond, expression stoney. “Who is this boy? Walburga Black was always a right bitch so I’m not surprised her fucking spawn is the same cut of ugly.”

“His name is Regulus.” Sirius tells her.

“What would you like done, little nova? I may be dead but I am more than this portrait. I am more than a Black as are you.”

Sirius finds himself pleased. “I considered doing a blood feud but that would affect everyone. I don’t care about Wally but I don’t want anyone else to suffer just because they’re a pair of bitches.”

Lucretia would be affected as would Andy, little Dora, and Cassiopeia. Sirius didn’t want that. The rest could rot for all he fucking cared. 

“You are kinder than I.” Isolde hums, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “This is not a weakness. Do not think of it as such. I understand you have ties to others amongst that family, however, I suspect with him flexing his power over the house that he will become Lord Black soon. If he’s already able to make decisions with Orion gone, I assume his time of arrival is close.”

Sirius nods. 

Isolde sniffs. “Despicable. I won’t argue with your decision against a blood feud but I would recommend a blood curse. le Fays are blood mages after all. We created these things. The feud was born from us. Aleena le Fay was the first in 434 BC, if you follow christian timelines. That family is no more, ripped from their place in the Wizarding world and forced into extinction until the last muggle from said heritage was wiped out.”

Oh, shit. Sirius blinks. “How… The feuds now are different. It just means hands on sight usually.”

Isolde laughs, charmed. “How boring. No, le Fays work from the root to the womb. If a feud is intended, it is not a suggestion. Their magic will become no more, they will become no more.”

How scary. No wonder people were scared of Morgana le Fay.

“What would a blood curse entail exactly then?” Sirius asks, curious.

Isolde smiles innocently. “Nothing too serious. Just a lifetime of failed heirs and eventual nothingness. The difference between the two is that a blood curse simply only affects a singular person. It can be modified to root into their parentage, which may be beneficial. As I mentioned, Walburga is a bitch.” 

Isolde peers around her vault, perking up once she’s spotted what she’s looking for and waves her hand. Something shifts behind a large stack of chests.  A jeweled box surges forward to land neatly beside Sirius. 

“Open it.” Isolde encourages gently. 

Sirius obeys, placing the box in his lap and unlatches the silver clasp. Inside is a tear drop shaped vial filled with an ominous swirl of red. 

“Before I died, I asked the Mother if I could leave a piece of myself behind for you. Just in case things went awry and apparently they have.” Isolde explains. “At this point, you are likely aware of my alias and are aware of one of the things I created. Did you accept our name or did you take Morvain?”

“I took le Fay.” Sirius tells her.

Isolde makes a thoughtful sound. “You likely had no choice. The Blacks were popular when I was alive. Your disownment would’ve been noticed due to who they are and the act itself. A target has been placed at your back from the moment you have taken your name. I do not say this to scare you. I say this because it is a fact. There will be people after what our line offers, what we wield.”

She hesitates briefly, “How can I say this..” Isolde looks at him, so sincere and sweet. “You are such a kind boy already. Considerate. I was to a certain extent but our magic does not hold such biases. He does not hold such biases. You should’ve felt him by now with everything that’s happened. He would’ve responded to such an offense. Once you choose, he will make it happen but I am surprised he hasn’t already.”

Sirius’ mind is racing. “Things… are different. My magic did bite back at me recently. I had a block on my core that broke with my disownment.”

Isolde’s portrait shatters once more. Her face is thunderous. She snarls, “A what?”

“I don’t know who put it there so my first time feeling him was when I got disowned. It was… My magic felt sentient. It was assessing me. I have a really good group of people at my job helping me work through it but I have… I have been scared to use it.” Sirius rubs his face. “Sorry, that’s really embarrassing. It’s just. I can feel something rooting around inside me.

Isolde is shaking. She jerkily rises to her knees, expression panicked. “A core. A core block on a le Fay. You must drink the vial. Once you are finished, he will show himself to me. I must speak with him. He wouldn’t know you had a block.”

Sirius swallows shakily. “Who is he?”

“He is of us. He is rooted in old magic, blood magic. He is what our ancestors had created in their quest for power. There are many who wish to contain him, which is partially why we had gone into hiding. Many le Fays perished in their quest to vanquish themselves as vessels and from the people wanting to claim him as their own. In turn, he has limited our reproduction as penance. Despite him being our creation, he has become more but he is a strand, not a god. Magic always has a way of changing. He is us, we are him.” Isolde slumps. “Sirius, you must show him to me. I… Please. Please, I am so worried for you.”

“We bit the hand that fed us.” Sirius says. He inhales sharply. “He thinks I abandoned him.”

“There is no him, without us. There is no you, without him.” Isolde says pleadingly. 

What a familiar conversation. Sirius downs the vial after setting the box aside, feeling the glass melt and fade in between his fingers. It tastes like nothing but then there is a surge inside him that feels exactly like the magic that greeted him in the vault, that greeted him in Isolde’s letter. It intertwines with his own, whistling like the musical note of a bird and melds seamlessly. Sirius frowns, expecting something traumatic but clearly that was just his general expectancy of events at this point.

“Feel it.” Isolde urges him. That same phrase that Hadrian tells him every time they duel. Sirius’ hands shake. God, he’s fucking scared. Isolde presses her hand against the portrait. “I know, little nova. The worst has already happened, Sirius. Let him in. Feel. Him. We are him, he is us. The worst has already happened.”

Sirius lets go and he is back in that dark, empty world, staring at himself whose face shifts and shudders and bursts into a series of dark feathers. Those raven’s eyes stare back at him, eerie and still assessing. Sirius stares back. He isn’t sure what to do so he simply says, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.

His voice echoes in the nothingness.

The raven surges at him, beak slamming hard into his forehead and Sirius can feel blood running down his face, sees himself as a young child watching Walburga and his father argue over his lack of progress in spellcasting, how Walburga spits in his face and calls him a failure, his father’s warm assurance that it will come when he needs it, eyes so warm and filled with quiet pride. There’s him hiding in his closet to practice his spells but none of them want to work and he’s scared about going to Hogwarts because then everyone will know he’s a failure, he’s a failure! It's Orion putting him through drill after drill, struggling to hide his frustration and it just builds and builds and builds. It’s something clicking inside him the first time Bellatrix turned her wand at him, that anger, that panic and he would show them, show them all.

Then it's him holding Orion’s hand in those final moments, his disownment, how his soul felt so split and destroyed until the caw of a raven, the chirp of a songbird, how Padfoot chased after them, scrambling and panicked and they were going to die, they were going to die, they were going to die. The claws that rooted through his very being and held him tight enough to scar, how they dragged him through the floor, to James, to safety. 

Thank you, Sirius thinks sincerely because how kind, to help even after being dormant and abandoned for so, so long. There is a sharp, stoney silence then a feeling of cold, bitter apology that sweeps over him before bursting in blazing hot acceptance and the raven makes a soothing, warbling sound before disappearing completely. Sirius gasps, tears spilling from his eyes, surrounded by reddish, black feathers. He’s back in the vault, Isolde watching him, pressed hard against the portrait, expression frenzied. She sags in relief, hands dragging along the paper.

“Thank the Mother.” Isolde slumps onto her knees, rubbing her face. “Baby, how are you feeling?”

Rattled. Shaken. Complete. 

Sirius exhales harshly, feeling his magic moving and shifting inside him more than before. “Does it ever settle?”

Isolde shakes his head, appearing sympathetic. “A bit of a learned response. A le Fay must be ready for anything at all times. Take these with you. It can help with understanding what he is but no, he will not settle. He is our shield so treat him as such.”

A series of thick tomes land delicately beside Sirius. They’re incredibly pretty and covered in filigree and golden wings. Sirius runs his hands along them.

“I intended to accept him completely but then I found out I was pregnant with you.” Isolde says softly. “I… I wanted you so terribly bad. I offered myself for your birth. For your life.” Her eyes harden. “I would do it again, make no mistake about that. You were mine.”

Sirius’ heart stutters in his chest. “I wish I could’ve had you.”

“You always will. Death does not change that.” Isolde sniffs. “Silly boy. As if Death could stop me.” 

That startles a laugh out of him and she grins. 

“The people… who want to take him away. Is there a reason?”

“They believe he deserves to be free from his vessels.”

Sirius blinks. “But he doesn’t want that.”

Isolde taps her chin. “I’m undecided on this answer. He has been upset with us over the last few hundred years but evidently not enough to refuse you. He must’ve seen something he liked or finally realized that upon cursing us, he has cursed himself.”

“This is fucking crazy.” Sirius laughs.

“Heaven’s, I know. Imagine being 6 and hearing all this nonsense.” Isolde wrinkles her nose. “Now that the dramatics are out of the way, tell me everything. What are you doing? What classes did you take? Did you go to Hogwarts? Do you like madeleines? When you were half way developed, month 6, I believe, I developed this intense craving for candied grapefruit peels.”

“Omg, I love grapefruit peels.” Sirius says happily. “Mami would make them for me.”

They spend the next hour talking and talking and Isolde is such a fantastic story teller. She tells him how she and Orion met, incredibly in muggle Belgium because someone tried to pickpocket her and she knocked them soundly on their ass. It was also how she met Arcturus, who, of course, was scandalized by her behavior. She talks about her time at Beauxbatons, the vampire, Balor, she befriended in Switzerland and Sirius tells her about Hogwarts, about the Potters, his grandparents, his father, and his apprenticeship, pleased when her eyes go round with awe and heavy satisfaction. Sirius also mentions his recent proxies and the letters he’s exchanged with Lucan, how nervous he was to meet him eventually.

“My father may appear to be put together and, perhaps, terrifying but he is ditzy and a mess. I’m sure he has anxiety but I’ve never had the balls to ask.” Isolde laughs. “If… If you don’t mind, when you go to see him, bring sweet potato fritters with you. It was his favorite. I made it every birthday of his. Then smack him upside the head and tell him Isla said he better be checking his blood pressure regularly.”

“I can do that.” Sirius promises, feeling fond and elated. “Was that his name for you? Isla?”

Isolde grimaces. “It is the worst name he has ever come up with. He tried to call me an isle of despair and early balding but decided it was too long. That bastard. He will be kind to you. I know he has Loz working a right tizzy in preparation already before he’s even asked you to visit. That father of mine. Tsk.” She perks up. “Oh. Have you met Gatsby? Has Umbra hatched yet?”

“I think Umbra will hatch soon. Gatsby is at home.” Sirius tells her. “And well fed. My best friend’s older brother has gone on this meal prepping kick. He keeps me fed. Apparently, I don’t eat enough. They’re both really great. The older one is who is helping me with my magic. He’s pretty great. I mean, they both are.” 

Isolde wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Oh? Sirius Altair, you dog.”

Sirius laughs, embarrassed. God, let’s end this conversation track. “Don’t start.”

“Is this best friend handsome? Is this older brother?” Isolde leers.

Sirius’ face goes hot. “Ollivander mentioned your gripes about birds.”

Isolde simpers, gracefully taking the subject change. “Because how boring. We could become birds since forever. It's, quite literally, written in our Grimoires. Not that there’s anything wrong with birds. It's just boring.” She sniffs. “Plus a bird isn’t nearly as scary as a dragon horse of death. I couldn’t startle any of my friends by just being a bird.”

“You’ll offend our raven.” Sirius says, amused.

Isolde pulls a face. “If anything, he should be proud of our continued abilities. We grow. We prosper even in the face of his wrath. le Fays are the perfect host for our creation. He’d find no better match than us.”

Sirius does enjoy how proud Isolde is of their heritage despite how gruesome this all sounds. It was a bit baffling but magic had the capabilities to do great, incredible, things, no matter how horrendous it appears towards humanity. Sirius does have more questions but Isolde is looking tired even if she clearly does not want him to leave. Isolde appears crestfallen when he rises to his feet and tucks the tomes away. Her expression stirs something inside him and he’s delighted that she seems to enjoy his company. He was used to Walburga’s cruel indifference after all.

“May I come back this weekend?” Sirius asks.

Isolde’s expression blossoms with happiness. “Oh, yes, please do. I will never mind. I’m just… I’m so happy you’re here.”

Tears sting his eyes. “Thanks for making this portrait for me.” 

“Of course, my love.” Isolde says seriously. “It is the least I could do. Don’t worry your pretty head about Walburga or her cunt of a spawn. I would like to see how my father will respond to such offense but, alas, I will also be handling things.”

How terrifying. Sirius narrows his eyes at her, questioning, and his mother blinks, the picture of innocence. “I won’t ask. Seems above me.”

Isolde sends him a serene smile. “What a precious, smart boy I have.”

Sirius’ heart flips. “Bye, mom. I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course, little mango.” Isolde says, eyes slipping closed and she’s back into the position she was before he awoke her. Sirius watches her for a long, quiet moment before heading towards the bell. He hesitates near the trunk she said contained gifts for him and gently touches it. It shrinks easily. Sirius slides it into his pocket. His eye catches a silver choker resting in an open jewelry box. He looks back to Isolde, who is wearing the very one. Sirius takes it, sliding it on as he rings the bell gently. The choker purrs quietly against him. His mouth trembles.

Alaric is waiting patiently outside, eyebrows raised. 

Sirius manages a smile. “It was nice to meet her.”

Alaric’s approval is great. He eyes Sirius’ choker, pleased. “I am gratified to hear this, Sirius.” 

Sirius is emotionally exhausted by the time they reach Alaric’s office and wants to go home and shove his face into Gatsby’s massive body and weep like a child. His mother was dead but at least he has this, her portrait. Maybe he’s fantasizing a dead person but what else did he fucking have? Still, Sirius supplies blood for his inheritance test because if he’s learned anything, it's to get all the bullshit out the way first.

The parentage is the same beyond Walburga’s adoption being invalid due to his disownment. There is a list of additional parentage, family tree related things but Sirius knows most of them are dead beyond Lucan so he doesn’t bother but he is curious about why the lordship section is so much longer.
Confirmed Heirship

 

  • The Noble and Most Ancient Carrow

 

Confirmed Lordships

 

  • The Imperial and Ancient House of le Fay

 

Confirmed Life Debts to Lordship

 

  • The Noble and Most Ancient House of Warrington
  • The Noble House of Babins
  • The Imperial and Ancient House of Slytherin
  • Ungor
  • Eastern Coven of Basel

 

Sirius skips over all the properties and vaults because he doesn’t particularly care and has seen most of it already. However, three more vaults are listed with astronomical amounts of gold. Jesus. Sirius does have questions about being the Carrow heir and what the fuck an Ungor was but that wasn’t on top of his list of priorities. Also why was his house considered imperial seeing as they were mostly dead or hiding? Inheritance tests were so thorough in comparison to verification ones. His eye snags on a list of blocks that have been broken upon his disownment. The results make him burn so bright with fury that the lights shatter above them. Alaric fixes them easily.

Blocks: 

 

  • Magical Leech (castor: Walburga Black to Walburga Black, age 13 months) ***
  • Innate Core Block (castor: Walburga Black, age 13 months) ***
  • Modification Glamor (castor(s): Orion Black, Isolde le Fay, age 3 months)**

 

*** invalid upon disownment

** invalid upon heritage acknowledgement

“That fucking bitch.” Sirius snarls, smoke spilling from his lips. Being furious would be a kind testament to how he feels currently. He wants her neck between his hands because how fucking dare she claim he was worthless and a fucking waste of magic when she had been taking it from him. Core block be damned. He was 3rd in his year, he was accepted into the Brigade, all with a damn core block. Sirius wasn’t fucking weak. He would make her rot. His magic thrums in ugly, vibrant agreement. 

Sirius hands Alaric the parchment before he can set it on fire, struggling to get his bristling anger under control. Alaric skims it quietly, righteous fury crossing his expression when he reaches the end. He sets the parchment down, clawed fingers steepled together, and frowns deeply. Alaric taps his desk three times.

“We have more to discuss, I see.” Alaric hisses sharply. “While I am aware of Lucan Carrow not assigning an heir until recently, this slipped my mind. I apologize for my ineptitude. Though, it does explain why vaults 7, 486, and 9 are in le Fay possession.”

Sirius waves him off, swallowing down his anger. “I promise you, it's fine. I guess we’ll… talk about that when I see him. Do you know what an Ungor is?”

“A giant.” Alaric says simply. “I did mention that Isolde had imprisoned a dragon. Ungor is the last of his clan due to said dragon’s greedy desire. The clan was settled in Tibet. They were rich and wealthy by giant and wixen standards. Ogle the Terrible wished to have what they kept. Isolde saw to it that he did not eradicate them completely but she was almost too late.” 

Sirius thinks he’s on the cusp of a panic attack. A heavy box appears on Alaric’s desk, scripted in runes and intricate jewels. Alaric eyes it warily and Sirius finds himself doing the same. Alaric gently opens it. He hands him the ring tucked inside the box. Its band is obsidian, finely engraved with the intricate feathers of a dark phoenix. A series of deep sapphires gleam beautifully from it. There is an engraving inside the band that reads, stand bold in blood. For an heir ring, it is outlandish. Sirius slides it onto the middle finger of his left hand, feeling it pulse but it doesn’t assess him as badly as the le Fay ring had, simply ripples and settles with a quiet click of satisfaction. How anticlimactic, Sirius thinks.

“Monty’s gonna love this.” Sirius mutters. He looks up to Alaric. “Do you know why we have a life debt from the Slytherin house?”

Alaric’s eyes gleam. “le Fays were one of the few at the beginning of it all. While Salazar was not a weak man, he was human. Mistakes were made. I imagine he didn’t want to poke the bear as they say.”

How ominous. “Iso- mom mentioned she was going to handle Walburga. Do you know how that would occur considering she’s… dead?”

“Oh, how frightening.” Alaric responds quickly, so quickly Sirius isn’t sure he meant to say it at all, eyebrows high on his head, which is comical and endearing.

Sirius laughs, startled. He truly had the strangest goblin.

Alaric clears his throat sharply. “Apologies. I had not expected such words. I do not know how Madame le Fay would be able to handle things. It is possible that she has fail safes in place.” He sits back in his seat. “Frightening, indeed. I’d say I pity your former adoptive mother but it would be a lie and a goblin does not lie. However, I will keep my ears out for any… movements. Madame le Fay had a specific way of dealing with things.”

Sirius whistles. “Alright. Well, I will leave you to it. I have a Wizengamont to take over apparently. Oh. Suppose you don’t know how seats work with imperial houses, huh?”

Hadrian likely did since he mentioned Peverells were considered imperials.

Alaric grimaces. “I do not concern myself with wixen issues beyond my own. However, the Horde keeps track of such things for movement purposes. I can tell you that typically imperial households hold more sway than ancient ones. Your previous family will have an interesting time moving against you, at least politically.”

“I didn’t know the Horde was interested in- Oh, wait. That makes sense. We’re dicks.” Sirius says thoughtfully. “Hm. Really shitty that y’all handle all our money and get such grief for it. If we didn’t have the Horde, our society would collapse. Feel like we should be nicer. Y’all had every reason to revolt against us.” 

“You are an odd wizard, Sirius le Fay.” Alaric states plainly. He looks rattled. 

Sirius beams. What a compliment. He does leave Alaric with a box of chocolate truffles, which earns him a pleased sneer, and drops off another box of truffles to the teller who always seems present, earning another visibly startled look, but the goblin does accept his offering with hesitant hands.

Unsurprisingly, both Potters are waiting for him when Sirius arrives home, and more unsurprisingly, he is forced into a seat at the kitchen island and supplied with plates of food under James and Hadrian’s threatening smiles. Sirius eats what he is given and it's delicious, of course it is. Before James can lay into him, Sirius lifts his left hand, revealing his heirship ring and James grabs his hand gently. His eyebrows shoot up.

“Holy shit. This is Carrow’s? You haven’t even met him yet.” James says, awed. “Hadz, do you see this?”

Hadrian takes a sip of coffee, amused. “I can not see beyond your hair, little brother.”

James jumps, embarrassed. He shifts, directing Sirius’ hand in front of Hadrian, who peers down at it. His eyebrows shoot up, a near mirror of his brother’s. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward to take a closer look, and whistles. 

“Oh, I have something else.” Sirius chirps, procuring a copy of his inheritance test. He sets it on the kitchen island for them to read. It is amusing to watch their expressions change from awe to confusion to blistering hot rage. Numerous mugs shatter as well as a few cabinets. Sirius hums, glancing down at his hand curiously and tugs lightly at his magic. It responds eagerly. Sirius flicks his hand, watching in distracted awe as the mess mends itself together. Oh wow, he thinks. 

“That bitch.” James seethes.

“Do you want her in the ground today or tomorrow?” Hadrian agrees furiously.

Sirius feels charmed. What shits. 

“What is an Ungor?” James asks suddenly, holding the parchment up as Hadrian stews murderously beside him.

“A giant.” Sirius answers. 

“A…” James blinks. He pushes the parchment away with a whimper.

“The Easter Coven of Basel are vampires.” Hadrian says lowly. “Relatively scary even from my perspective.”

Sirius blinks. “Oh. Mom did say she was friends with some dude named Balor.”

“I need a drink.” Hadrian mutters, waving his hand and summons a bottle of whiskey. Three shot glasses materialize before them. Hadrian pours them each a shot and throws his back immediately. He sets it down hard. “Alright. This is… better than I anticipated and it confirms my suspicions. I know I mentioned le Fays being ancient but after discovering the first blood feud, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were older than the Peverells.”

Sirius blinks. “Are you digging through my family closets?”

Hadrian blinks. “Yes. I need to know how best to support you. You have a temper, linked with whatever shit your magic has going on, I need to make sure you don’t commit genocide or whatever on accident. Your roots go deeper than you think. Peverells kept thorough notes. Nosey bastards but I guess that just comes with the territory. The impacted family of the first blood feud did not survive it.” 

“Yeah.” James nods solemnly. “Wiped off the Wizarding world to produce only muggles until the lineage died out completely through a series of unfortunate, freaky accidents.”

“Mom did mention that.” Sirius mutters. 

James makes a low noise. “So many life debts. I’m surprised there aren’t more but it would update upon the ending of a lineage. Which means there is a Slytherin descendant still alive. The good news is that if they did take up their seat, well, even if they didn't, they wouldn’t be able to move against you due to how life debts work. You could take their entire line and life as penance. Then there’s Carrow…. So weird he made you an heir especially if you were never meant to know about this.”

Hadrian makes a thoughtful noise. “It's possible that Lucan has been watching more closely than he let on. Most know how Walburga Black is. The Prophet did pick up your story about running away, especially with Lucretia Prewett decking Walburga in the face.”

How muggle, Sirius thinks happily.

James scowls.

“Mom said she’d deal with her.” Sirius tells them.

“Holy shit.” James whispers, wide eyed. 

“That sounds fucking scary.” Hadrian agrees, awed. “Did she say how?”

Sirius blinks. “I told her it was above me and she agreed. I’m not about to argue with my scary, dead mother.”

James downs his shot. “How did you end up so sweet? Baba said Orion Black was not a fun man either.”

Sirius blushes. 

Hadrian snorts. “You haven’t fought him yet, Jay. I am excited to see the fruits of my labor and I see you’ve accepted your magic for what it is.”

Sirius blushes deeper, embarrassed. “Actually, I have a story to tell you both about that. Oh, if you don’t mind.”

“I would die for you.” James says firmly. Hadrian makes an agreeable noise, expression suggesting he believes Sirius to be an idiot for thinking otherwise. 

These Potters. 

“Mom said our ancestors created something from their magic. It is blood magic or at least it was but now it's a sentient thing that has passed down through the line. He’s a literal part of our magic.” Sirius swallows. “le Fay’s are his natural container since we made him but he is also the reason we’ve been dying out.”

“Holy shit.” Hadrian whispers.

James sways in his seat. “He’s cool with you now?”

“He… was upset.” Sirius continues delicately. “My core block didn’t make his opinion of me any better but… I think we’ve reached an agreement now. He did bring me here when I was disowned.”

“Holy shit.” Hadrian repeats. 

“Holy shit.” James echoes.

Sirius huffs, amused. “Have I broken you both?”

“Yes.”

“Mhm.”

Hadrian whistles in appreciation and grins, a bit mad. “Shit. You are an exciting, little thing.”

Sirius’ stomach twists hotly.

Notes:

Sweet! What do we think about mommy le Fay? Frankly, I think she is just what Siri needs. Siiiigh. I'm sure her and Effie would get along swimmingly! Spoiler: Lucan Carrow does have anxiety which is hilarious because he is a terrifying man. I wanted to explore different houses :3c I almost did Rosier but was like, hmmm, those Carrow siblings were hot trash garbage bandits. Let's do that lmao

Next chapter we will finally get our Lovegood answer. I saw a lot of Panda guesses and yes, she is a lovegood as is xenophilius but alas, there is one more >:3c Additional hint: it is a man! Who could it be? Wah!

Rewrote this chapter like several times because I was going to make Siri a Ravenclaw conquest lord because of some shady shit then chucked it out the window because idk seemed like a lot and I dun wanna just bombard random shit, ya know? I read one HP fic where the entire 5k chapter was inheritance test results and I was shook. It was.. just so much! I mean, go off if thats what you enjoy but I was fighting for my life trying to remember all these damn connections!

Chapter 7: A Raven's Ownership

Summary:

Sirius vs the Brigade, Sirius vs himself.

Notes:

Tws, violence that comes with dueling. Ehhhh, oh, discussions of disownment, possible discussions of violence and murderings :3c

- Hadrian Potter & Elias Warrington, Thing 1, Thing 2
- Sirius' eternal frustration with himself
- A Lovegood reveal
- The Thin Mustache Menace
- Hugin
- Alphard's love of broken things
- Sirius' constant taking care of his baby ducks but unable to care for himself

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Distracted today?” Hadrian hums pleasantly.

“He appears to be.” Elias says happily.

Sirius wheezes from the floor. He can perfectly imagine Elias Warrington’s feverish expression and Hadrian Potter’s growing amusement, how his mouth twitches in the corner, and that fiendish look in his eye that often matches Dorcas’. No wonder they were best friends or whatever. Scary, older people, Sirius thinks. He hears a whiz of a spell rip through the air and rolls away sharply. A blast of red sparks just where he was. Sirius stares up at the ceiling, winded. 

“This two on one shit is some bullshit.” Sirius hisses, hopping to his feet. He narrowly misses another spell sent his way, dropping hard into a split. Ballet has clearly paid off in terms of dexterity, Sirius thinks.

Hadrian whistles, grinning. “Didn’t think I’d miss. Then again, I am being lazy. Have to let you catch a break.”

“He even fixed your collarbone, le Fay.” Elias chirps. 

Sirius sends him a withering glare. The audacity. “Where is Vance? I’m sick of this bullying. I’d rather work with his sloppy Runes.”

Elias laughs, startled and delighted.

“So mean. Am I not entertaining enough?” Hadrian pouts. It's more of a strange grimace but Sirius finds himself studying his dimples. Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him, amused. “I did fix your collarbone.”

“That is the least you could do. What is your head made out of? Rocks?” Sirius gripes, pushing himself to his feet. “Actually, don’t answer that. Prongs has headbutted me once before and that shit cracked my literal brain. I was stuck with Poppy for, like, three days.” 

Hadrian waves him off. “Not the worst thing I've done. Let’s go again.”

Sirius does not whimper but it is a close thing. Hadrian was, officially, worse than anyone else on the Brigade. Sirius could easily see why Crowe let him handle recruit assessments and general ball breaking behavior. Elias just fed his murderous tendencies like some overexcited cheerleader. Sirius does not know how they went from meditation practices to this bullying. 

“Oh. I was wonderin’ what all this noise was.” A familiar voice rings out. Sirius turns to see one Barty Crouch Jr, leaning against the opening of the doorway. He hasn’t seen Barty in almost a year after the scandal of him dropping out left Crouch Sr frothing as he slammed into the Great Hall during breakfast, demanding to know where Dumbledore got off. Barty looks about the same, tall, built like a beanpole but with more piercings in his face that he had before. He sends Sirius a chipper wave.

Sirius’ mouth drops open, shocked. He resists the urge to sweep baby Crouch into his arms like the ferret fucker he is. “Omg, Artemis!”

“Heard Black’s been pretty pissed with you recently, Siri.”

Elias scoffs derisively, flicking his fingers.

Hadrian sucks his teeth. “So nosey, Lovegood.”

“‘s my job.” Barty sniffs.

“Reg is always pissed at me.” Sirius sniffs, heart squeezing in his chest. He blinks, then frowns. “Lovegood? Xenophilius?” 

Barty’s cheeks pinken. “My husband.”

Sirius balks. “What happened to Pandora? Did.. did they break up? That seems blasphemous. That seems like a criminal offense. He better not have made that girl cry. I will break his spine into-”

Barty interrupts quickly, wide eyed, cheeks flushing darker. “Panda’s my wife.”

Sirius’ brain skids to a sharp stop. Well, shit. Good for him. Sirius nods rapidly. “Hell yes. Panda will be so good for you. I won’t apologize for my threats. Panda is a good, sweet girl. I don’t know Xeno like that but I know he’s better than fucking Evan.”

“Yeah… He didn’t take my disownment well.” Barty hums, shrugging. “It’s whatever. I’m here, apparently queer. Whatevs.”

“I have so many questions.” Sirius blinks, lost, because what the fuck. Barty was disowned? Like disowned disowned? 

“This is entertaining.” Elias says. “I’ve never seen you talk so much, Lovegood.”

Barty sends him a withering look. 

“You two can catch up after I wipe the floor with Riri.” Hadrian says serenely. 

Sirius glares at him. Hadrian winks. Stupid, handsome bastard. He can hear Barty shifting behind him and snaps off a spell, all throbbing yellow and vibrant and Hadrian grins, deflecting it easily. Sirius hasn’t managed to land a hit on him beyond physical hand to hand but even then it was difficult. Hadrian was slippery, evasive, and skilled in comparison to Sirius, who only really experienced Bella’s fiery temper and courtyard brawls. But he survived Walburga. 

Hadrian sends off a complicated spell combination, one manages to clip Sirius’ shoulder right before he throws up a shield but the other two barrel hard into it to where it shudders and breaks. Holy shit, Sirius thinks, feeling that familiar coil of biting frustration surge inside him. Focus, he thinks sharply, grasping at the hot wailing that builds inside him. Sirius had seen slight improvements but it's always been difficult to keep himself underwraps. Reframing was just as hard because he truly felt like he shouldn’t have to ask his magic to cooperate, to listen. It was too responsive, too eager in a way it wasn’t before. 

“You’re holding back again,” Hadrian calls out, watching Sirius with a lingering gaze. “Why?”

Sirius grits his teeth. “It’s unstable.”

I’m unstable, he thinks.

Hadrian lifts an eyebrow. “Nah. Think about it. It’s new to you but magic knows its container. You’re the one rejecting it. You’ve accepted him. Work with him. He is of you, that’s what you told me.”

Oh, Sirius thinks absently, ducking a burst of black. Core blocks could lead to traumatizing results occasionally. It was just new, to him, to his life as all of this was. Isolde said the worst had already happened and Sirius is starting to believe her but fuck, he was so scary in comparison to anything Sirius ever dealt with. However, wasn’t that all Sirius wanted to be? More than a Black, more than any of them. He never wanted to be afraid again. Sirius’ wand falters for a moment and a burst of a wild, electric surge of magic explodes from him, more forceful than he intended. The curse slams into the wall beside Hadrian, who simply tilted his head, the stone splintering and crackling behind him.

Well.

Fuck.

Hadrian doesn’t react to the crumbling damage, focus entirely on Sirius, gaze intense and unwavering. “It’s angry because you keep pushing it away.”

Sirius’ heart hammers in his chest. He can feel Hadrian studying him, Elias’ watchful gaze, Barty’s eyes on his back. That couldn’t be right. It didn’t think he was worthy, he wasn’- Wait. Sirius blocks another spell flown at him without thinking, mind racing. Prove it, his reflection had said. They had an accord, him and the raven. 

“Sirius,” Hadrian’s voice startles him badly. He’s so close that Sirius hadn’t even noticed him moving. “Let it flow. You’re making it volatile because you’re afraid of it.”

I’m not, Sirius thinks wildly. I’m not. I’m not! Liar, his mind hisses. He didn’t know how to be a le Fay. This was a fucking joke. God, he was going to fail at this like he failed at being a Black. Sirius stands there, staring at Hadrian, who watches him. Prove it. His magic pulses wildly beneath his skin. It was so much, so scary and so different. But it was all he had left. 

“Being scared doesn’t make you a coward.” Hadrian steps closer, his voice soft. “It doesn’t make you weak.”

The air between them feels charged and strange and Sirius swallows. Doesn’t it, he thinks. His body feels riddled with tension but not nearly as harrowing as the first time he fully used his magic, where it bit back. He wonders if Isolde went through something similar. There is no you without me, he had said but couldn’t the same be said about him. What was Sirius without magic? That’s what she said. He is of us, we are of him. Sirius takes a shaky breath and manages a nod.

Hadrian claps him on the shoulder, smiling softly with approval, and Sirius’ heart flips. He can feel the storm of power still churning inside him but there was no fight, it felt like it was waiting, watching, just like Hadrian. 

“Good,” Hadrian hums, taking a step back, twirling his wand in hand. “Your magic is incredible. You just have to trust it. Let’s try again. No holding back. It’s like you think I’m weak or something. Offensive as fuck.”

“Fridays are for lying, Potter.” Elias says lazily.

Barty snorts in amusement. Sirius huffs. If anyone was weak in this room, it was certainly not Hadrian fucking Potter. Sirius inhales quietly, shifting his stance. He shakes himself out, tugging tentatively at the swell inside him and it perks up like a dog on a whistle. Perhaps a wolf instead with how it gurgles and spasms in response. 

Hadrian sends a hex his way and Sirius’ magic responds quicker than his brain can, spilling from his wand like a chasm. No murder, Sirius thinks hurriedly, watching in distant awe as the spell shifts from sickly green to the familiar shine of a stunner spell. Holy! Shit! Hadrian counters easily, movements fluid and graceful, a spark of excitement flashing across his face.

“That’s it, Riri.” Hadrian encourages, voice low and charged. 

Sirius narrows his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, amused. He fires off another spell, a more complex, binding curse that coils through the air like a serpent. His magic pulses happily in his veins, surging through him. Hadrian barely manages to dodge it, eyes bright with delight. Barty whistles loudly. 

“Better.” Hadrian laughs, shooting back a countercurse. “But you’re still holding back. Don’t be boring, Sirius.”

Sirius bristles at the challenge, and he’s moving without thinking, allowing the burst of emotion to feel his magic. It unfurls with a snap, the spell erupting from his wand shockingly fast like a crackling whirlwind of energy. Hadrian gets a shield up and it buckles under the strain. Sirius feels incredibly smug when Hadrian fucking Potter is forced to take a step back. He could see it now, clear as day, admiration and something else in that pale gaze.

Sirius isn’t able to revel in the moment because Hadrian is sending his own spell back to him with chilly accuracy. He sidesteps it, a burst of pain flashing through him as it barely grazes his cheek. His magic shoots out, snagging the spell to hurl it back at Hadrian, who sends it careening into the wall. Then Hadrian disarms him. So fucking fast, Sirius thinks wildly, heart lurching in his chest. He doesn’t know what comes over him, disarmed and surely about to get knocked on his ass again, but Sirius has always been tenacious. He just needed to remind himself of that. He was more, more than the Black he once was, more than his previous family. 

Right as Hadrian reaches for him, Sirius already expects the punch, expects to dodge but melts into his own shadow instead, dragging Hadrian down with him in a panicked grab. It's so surreal and startling that he nearly shrieks because wow, how scary. It's so dark and misty like they’ve come into an alternate reality. Oh, I have been here before, Sirius thinks. Hadrian blinks down at him, hand curled around Sirius’ throat, Sirius’ hand fisted in his shirt. 

“You keep surprising me.” Hadrian snorts. “How funny.”

There is a low kaw.

“Sorry?” Sirius blinks. He frowns, noticing the raven perched on nothing, hulking and massive in comparison to how he was in the Vault. He’s almost the size of a thunderbird, feathers blackened red like blood with piercing eyes. Sirius’ mouth drops open. “Wow. You are spectacular.”

The raven seems pleased. A good start, he thinks. Sirius had not seen him since the vault and was frankly, unaware he even could.

Hadrian twirls his wand, awed. “You should name him.”

Sirius looks at him, aghast. “That seems rude as fuck.”

Hadrian tilts his head, lips quirking. “Nah. I think he may enjoy it and he hasn’t killed me yet so clearly not as against his container as you thought.”

Sirius blinks. “What?”

Hadrian peers around curiously. “It's similar to mine. Less defined however. Which makes sense because you’re just now meeting or whatever and I don’t have a sentient strand. Just shadow work. Crowe refers to it as a domain. It's good for stealth. It’s an inverted reality. If he,” He nods to the raven watching them. “Is here and knowing what we know of your mother’s work with her blood ward, this is a trap. It can also be more. I’m, technically, intruding so he’d have every right to kill me. Name your raven, Riri.”

Sirius blinks some more, turning to the raven, who straightens slowly, expectant and curious. What a weird raven, he thinks. Oh, Alaric also had a weird raven, Munin. Sentient magic strand, capable of thought, capable of memory. Sirius hums lowly. The ravens of a muggle deity.

“Hugin.” He says.

Hadrian makes an approving noise. “How appropriate. Cool. Now I can stop referring to him as ‘he’ in my head.” 

Hugin has not responded in any way which, honestly, makes Sirius feel a bit stupid. He shifts nervously, “If that’s cool.”

Hugin brandishes his massive wings, a shrieking kaw rippling through the emptiness like the call of an avalanche breaking on a mountain. Hadrian grins, “Seems like he likes it. We’ll work on it. What a nice surprise. I’ll be taking Riri back now.”

Sirius doesn’t have time to ask because those shadow hands are bursting from Hadrian and dragging him sharply to the surface. He gasps, sprawled out on his back as Hadrian smirks down at him, twirling his wand. The overhead light casts a long shadow across his face, filling the green of his eyes with more color and Sirius dazedly wonders how he would look with Monty’s hazel or maybe an actual green instead of that strange shade of sage he shares with Euphemia. 

“Where the fuck did you just go?” Barty asks, awed. “I’m gettin’ sick of your shit, Potter.”

“Wasn’t me. Riri’s got a shadowbox.” Hadrian says happily.

“What was it like?” Elias asks quickly. “Did you see it?”

Hadrian sends Sirius a quick, subtle questioning look, asking for permission, and Sirius manages a shrug. Hadrian turns to Elias, “We did. Scary as fuck but he’s got a name now.”

Elias sways where he stands. “Extraordinary.”

Hadrian huffs, amused. “We may have another tracker, Lovegood.”  

“As if. You’ve got your hands on him.” Barty sniffs. “Combined with fuckin’ Warrington, we’ll have just have another murderer.”

Elias makes an offended noise.

Hadrian pouts, holding a hand out for Sirius. “Only with just cause.”

“Hey, you don’t need my absolution, Potter. I don’t give a fuck. Makes shit less boring.” Barty says dismissively. “Oh, I ate the rest of that… I don’t know what it was. It's gone. Shit slapped.”

“Surprised, Vance left crumbs. Hungry bastard.” Hadrian rolls his shoulders with a sickening pop. Sirius is confused but he does take Hadrian’s hand, allowing him to drag him upwards like he weighs nothing. He does nearly tumble over and wow, he’s just so dizzy. Hadrian steadies him, concern flashing across his face. 

“It can feel jarring.” Hadrian assures him. “Hm. Like I said, it's an inverted span of space that still occupies at the same time. So when you come back, there can be disorientation. It fades after a while.”

“Like after three times.” Barty agrees. “Sometimes four. Least you didn’t throw up. I threw up.”

“Definitely all four times.” Elias comments.

“Fuck off, Warrington.” Barty snips.

“I know better than to get in the middle of this. I’ll leave y’all to it. I have, I think, two more asses to beat.” Hadrian chirps. 

Sirius huffs. “It was definitely a draw.”

Hadrian sends him a look. “Not. You shadow cheated.”

“You shadow cheated last week!” Sirius argues. “No normal person moves that fast!”

“Oh, he does.” Barty grimaces. “Scary as fuck.”

“Don’t defend him, Artemis.” Sirius hisses. He glares at Hadrian, who gives him a loose smile. “A. Draw.”

“Nah.” Hadrian winks, flicking his fingers at Sirius lazily as he moves past him. Sirius feels the cut heal closed. His shoulder pops back into socket. What the fuck. “I got two hits. Soooo sounds like I won. C’mon, Warrington. I just know Riri is itching to know about Lovegood’s polyamorous relationship.”

Elias snorts in heavy amusement. He claps Sirius on the shoulder as he passes, gaze approving. “You did good. Be proud of your progress.”

Sirius feels himself puff up like some little bird, pleased.

“Be proud once you can put me on my ass.” Hadrian sniffs.

What a shit. Sirius watches them go, amused and, unfortunately, charmed, and already planning how he can get the upper hand next time. It wasn’t super likely but he did enjoy approval. He sets his hands on his hips, grinning at Barty, who blushes. “Eh eeeh?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Barty hisses, embarrassed. “I hadn’t seen you and you had that shit going on with your dad so it's not like I could tell you or whatever then Alphie had died before that. Wasn’t tryna add to your shit list or whatevs.” He swallows, expression serious. “I… I didn’t know what Regulus was planning, alright? I haven’t talked to him since I dropped out. I wouldn’t have agreed anyway. We… We’re friends.”

Barty’s cheeks pinken. 

How cute, Sirius thinks, heart clenching in quiet gratitude. He waves the words off. “It’s whatever. It’s done. But holy shit, how are you married?! You’re younger than me!”

“Only by a year.” Barty scratches the back of his head. “Eh, so, daddy dearest was pissed I dropped out. Said he wouldn’t house some fuckin’ waste of space or whatever and disowned me. Officially. Mom didn’t try to stop it. You know how she gets.”

Spineless bitch, Sirius thinks. Crouch Sr was such a cunt but Mama Crouch’s dismissive behavior was just as bad. Sirius had snuck Barty out of that blasted house more times than he could count. Alphard was fond of baby Lovegood but Alphard seemed to love taking care of “disappointments” and never turned them away no matter how late in the day or unexpected it was.

“Panda found me after.” Barty continues. “I would’ve died if she hadn’t. He, sort of, just dumped me outside. But you know, Pandora. Always where she fuckin’ shouldn’t be. Xe was with her, lookin’ as confused as I fuckin’ felt when I woke up. Then she just sprung the question on me. Lowkey super weird incesty vibes because she did blood adopt me or whatever.”

“There is so much to unpack here.” Sirius says, awed. “Wow, baby Lovegood, good for you.”

Barty glares weakly at him. “Don’t start that shit again.”

Sirius coos, “So cute. So sullen. Surprised you were able to get a job here being a dropout and all that shit. Daddy didn’t pull strings to keep you out?”

Barty snorts. “I think he wanted to but I got dirt on ‘em. How I met Crowe actually. Bein’ where I wasn’t supposed to be.” He shrugs. “I’m on a trial run, I guess. Shit’s fun though.”

“Hadrian said you were a tracker. Crowe too.” Sirius crosses his arms. “You always were a sneaky shit. Don’t know how no one else saw you as innocent or dumb.”

“Part of my charm.” Barty says serenely. “You pick a specialty yet?”

“There are too many interesting things to decide between. Wait. Is being a floor ornament one of them?” Sirius asks. “Because I think I do quite well as a floor ornament.”

“Preachin’ to the fuckin’ choir. Potter likes mergin’ me to any and everything. He calls it Brat Nap Time. Fuckin’ bastard. Guess at least he gives me a blanket, so nap I do.” Barty mutters. He pushes off the doorframe. “Alright. Feed me. I know you got fuckin’ money, Siri. Your house is probably older than muggle Jesus.”

How cute, Sirius thinks, delighted.

“Didn’t you just eat? Just because you were my favorite out of that group of gremlins does not-” Sirius cuts himself off, eyes narrowed. The manipulation is clear. He would have rather died than have admitted this. “You little shit.”

Barty blinks, moved. “I’m your favorite?”

Regrets. Sirius is having regrets already.

“Gross.” Sirius flicks his fingers dismissively. “I’m not eating here, Art, because I really want wings. Mm, braised wings would be fucking bomb right now.”

“I know a place.” Barty looks ready to faint. “Can we get fried fish too? Oh, and cream sodas. Fuck a butter beer when you can have cream fuckin’ soda.”

Oh, yes. There was, definitely, a reason that Barty was his favorite.

Sirius sniffs. “Oh, I guess we should stop by Gringotts. Alphie left you shit. Never got around to sending it.”

Barty’s eyes water. “That’s dumb.”

“Sounds like you don’t want the record player or those asinine muggle books he left for you or the vault. Oh, there’s also the house in Merton.”

Barty straightens, alarmed. “You loved that place. I can’t take that.”

“You loved it more.” Sirius says easily. He had found Barty there more times than not, even when Alphard was off gallivanting somewhere. Regulus had been pissed at their growing relationship but Regulus never knew what it was like to have a parent who hated you so completely. Even Orion never treated Reg any differently despite how unattached he seemed to be at times. “Just accept it, Artemis. I have a house older than muggle Jesus now.”

Barty swallows audibly. He looks ready to cry, which is alarming. “Why are you still so nice to me? I… I haven’t even been there for you when you needed me.”

“Don’t be stupid. We all got our own shit. We’re friends. Plus, you’re my favorite.” Sirius grins.

Notes:

I'm sure none of you saw this coming unless you did then you get a platinum star because hell yes, clever little beans!

Wanted to delve more into what Brigade peeps do. Oh, I'll also include their titles since its not really a spoiler :3c
Roderick Crowe - Captain, Combat Specialist, Trapper
Hadrian Potter - Specialty Ops, Covert Assassin, Trapper
Dorcas Meadowes - Tactical Assault Specialist, Tactical Medic
Elias Warrington - Forensic Magic Specialist, Disposal
Barty Lovegood - Infiltration and Disguise Expert, Tactical Medic
Silas Vance - Arcane Combat and Enchantment Specialist
Benjamin Thorncroft, who we have not met yet - Alchemist, Curse Breaker

:D

Chapter 8: Eat Your Young

Summary:

"All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed." - Richard Adams

Notes:

Hoi. A new chapter? So soon? Crazy, sexy, wild! No TWs, I believe.... Uhm. Yes. If there are lemme know.

- Sirius le Fay vs the Wizengamot
- Lucan Carrow, a sweet potato, generally nervous man
- a le Fays intricate way of intertwining with houses
- Regulus Black vs Sirius le Fay (or a crow vs a raven)
- A Potter's murderous temper
- Sirius' Mouth
- Hadrian "About that life" Potter vs James "Hell yeah we are" Potter vs Fleamont "Heaven's help me" Potter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius didn’t think he actually needed to be here for this, didn’t particularly want to be here for this and Hadrian and James had furiously agreed but Monty was willing to have Sirius come with him despite his severe hesitance. Sirius was no coward. Fear was nothing new to him, nothing new to feel and experience and be. The worst had already happened. What more could they take from him?

The atrium leading to the Wizengamot meeting room slowly empties as heads and lords wander inside. Sirius refused to wear those awful purple robes they tried to shove people into because one, he wasn’t here for anything beyond officiating himself, and two, he didn’t fucking want to wear them. Sirius took inspiration from Isolde, from their lineage, and he’s never been particularly a red color type of man but it has grown on him. And he looks good as fuck in it.

Sirius knows he stands out, as he often did, but how unusual it must be for him to no longer don Black colors with a Black’s face. His robes were a fine, rich dark red, heavily piped with silver and a desolate black. A gift from his mother. He wore her silver choker as he had taken to doing every day and found her assortment of boots after visiting her recently. Isolde made him try all fifty of them on, which Sirius did because well, it's not like she was alive to see him in them in public. Sirius found the more he visited Isolde, the more he craved her approval, her voice. She was also pleased with his progress with Hugin. 

Monty is a dashing image beside him, chatting happily with Eugnio Shacklebolt and Gideon Prewett, recent head of house since his father decided to retire. Gideon was a welcome sight in such an unfamiliar setting and greeted Sirius so enthusiastically that it rattled a piece of him deep inside. He honestly expected Gideon to still be put out over the fact that Sirius was no longer dating his brother but hell, that happened so long ago and clearly traumatizing incidents to precedent. 

Sirius’ eye catches a shade of steely gray and turns to see Lucan Carrow striding confidently inside the atrium, his aura imposing and heavy set. His face is aged but healthy, the corners of his eyes the same pull as Isolde’s, the low curl of his hair her familiar pattern. Lucan notices Sirius, the subtle pause in his step, and Sirius shifts towards him, an opening. A sliver of pleasure crosses Lucan’s stern expression and he diverts his path to head to Sirius. They had spoken a few times through letters but this would be their first time meeting.

“Lord le Fay,” Lucan greets, voice smooth with a slow lilt at the end. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

Sirius’ mouth twitches into a smile before he can stop it but it's worth the flash recognition in Lucan’s gaze, how it flickers over Sirius’ hair, his face then lands on the choker. There is grief present, quiet and tangible and Sirius can understand. He reaches into his robes, procuring a shrunken package, and holds it out to Lucan.

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Carrow. Isla said you better be checking your blood pressure and these are a few years worth of sweet potato fritters as penance.” Sirius tells him, nodding to the package. “I’ve decided to shake things up a bit seeing as I’m sure our esteemed colleagues are interested in what I have to offer.”

Lucan accepts the gift with wet eyes. He lifts his chin, haughty, expression firming as he tucks it away. “That girl. I am gratified you have elected to join us and that you have taken your name. I had almost convinced your mother but alas, she’d rather do anything else. Will you be attending throughout the season?”

Sirius shakes his head, amused, noticing a few curious looks sent their way. “Not quite. I’ll be announcing my proxy since I’m busy with work. The devil works hard so I must work harder.” He grins, a bit impish. “I am my mother’s son after all.”

“Indeed.” Lucan hums deeply, eyes glinting. “I have been made aware of your recent progress in the HIT program. I have many eyes. You mentioned a core block. Your… magic?” He asks delicately, a flash of nervousness crossing his features.

Sirius is, frankly, pleased this man gives a fuck about that. He supposes Lucan would know about Hugin given he was married to a le Fay and fathered one. 

“We’re better.” Sirius says. “He is an interesting piece.”

“Excellent. I know he can be demanding.” Lucan’s approval is great as is his regret. “The attention has grown exponentially, especially the speculations regarding the root. While you do have my support, I admit I was worried.”

“Good thing I have many eyes then, yes?” Sirius feels pleased and Lucan’s lips twitch upward in the corner. Sirius catches Monty’s gaze and turns partially. “Lord Carrow, if I may introduce Lord Potter. He’ll be my assigned proxy. Lord Potter, Lord Carrow, my grandfather.”

Lucan hums lowly with visible pleasure, holding out his hand to Monty, who shakes it firmly, barely masking his surprise. “Lord Potter, we have had many debates. I must admit I mourn the times you and the late Lord Black would come to words.”

“He was a formidable man.” Monty agrees, expression serious. He smirks. “I’m certain you won’t give me a break even if our current interests align.”

Lucan smiles, a sharp, biting thing. “Naturally. You’d be bored otherwise. I have heard many things about what a bored Potter can get up to.”

Monty beams. 

Sirius is pleased with the direction of their relationship. He knows it will garner much interest given that the Carrows were a dark house and notably thrived in brutality that would easily match that of the Blacks but while a Black was cunning, a Carrow was direct. Monty does introduce Shacklebolt and Gideon, who are certainly surprised, to Carrow and then it becomes a little clique of sorts when Yaxley and Henry Abastor arrive. Their gazes are curious and seem to splutter and burst when Sirius introduces himself and his name. Sirius does notice Nott Sr along the outskirts but the warning bell for the session chimes sweetly, thwarting any attempts of conversation.

Sirius steels himself, trailing between Lucan and Monty as they head inside. Monty sends him a questioning look and Sirius nods, swallowing hard. Lucan gives him a subtle squeeze on the elbow before moving to his seat with his companions trailing behind him. Sirius follows Monty, feeling the weight of numerous eyes on his back. Minister Bagnold rests at her podium, her shrewd gaze looking over members moving to their seats. Her eyes widen in surprise when she notices him and straightens quickly. Dumbledore was also present, which Sirius had literally forgotten about, in the seat of Supreme Mugwump. He appears almost as surprised to see Sirius as Sirius is to see him.

A few stragglers file quickly inside and the doors close with heavy finality. Minister Bagnold bangs her heavy gavel upon the black stone of the podium and waft of magic slides over the chamber. There are a few announcements, welcomes and such, but Sirius can’t really hear anything. He’s so nervous and doesn’t understand why. Monty lays a reassuring hand on his arm and squeezes. Sirius inhales slowly, feeling his magic coil inside him, waiting. 

“Are there any members in attendance who have seats they wish to claim?”

A small lumos comes from the dark houses and Sirius sees Regulus, stoney and silent, his gray eyes bright under the light. His brother-no, Sirius thinks, not anymore. Regulus seems so sullen, filling out into his build that makes him look less like a child and more like Orion. Sirius hates he’ll have to see his father’s face on this person’s skin even if Walburga took the more defining features. Malfoy sits beside him, appearing smug, with a smirking Goyle on Regulus’ other side. None of them seem to have noticed Sirius, which is grand because he’s feeling like he may throw up. Sirius swallows hard and turns away, blinking back the bite that stings his eyes.

In the back of his mind, he always knew Regulus would go where he couldn’t follow, that they would break so spectacularly. Sirius wonders how long his mind knew his version of Regulus died and how long it will take his heart to catch up. He hated, hated, hated but god, Regulus was so small once, looking up at Sirius like he meant the world to him. Now they were nothing. Now he meant nothing and his little brother was dead. Sirius couldn’t even cry over it anymore, knowing that waiting for someone that had no intention of arriving where he was did no good. 

Minister Bagnold inclines her head. “Rise, please. State your name and the seat or seats you wish to claim.”

Regulus stands, posture immaculate, and lifts his chin. “I, Regulus Arcturus Black II, lay claim to the seat of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.”

There is a harsh clap of thunderous magic, an acceptance, and Bagnold bangs her gavel in finality. Regulus takes his seat as scattered applause fills the room. Sirius inhales, flicking his wand to conjure a lumos. Bagnold was already looking at him, expression filled with curiosity. She inclines her head and he rises smoothly, gathering every ounce of etiquette his father drilled into him. His ears pick up the shocked inhales around him, his former brother’s hiss of sharp surprise, and straightens. Sirius was no coward. Fear was a learned emotion but it was second to all. He was a Black first but now he was a le Fay. Be bold, his father would say. Be more, his mother would urge.

“I, Sirius Altair le Fay III, lay claim to the seat of the Imperial and Ancient House of le Fay.”

The silence is deafening but is no match for how the entire chamber itself trembles violently at his words, the heavy burst of magic that seems to pull from every corner and swells directly along the floor of the chamber. A swirl of hot lightning charges along the ground, surging up into the majestic shape of a sparrow then a raven that’s kaw is filled with the crackle of blistering magic. It rises fluidly before surging through the floor, sweeping the chamber in a swirl of hot acceptance. 

Holy shit, Sirius thinks wildly. 

Bagnold’s eyes are wide and shocked. Her mouth trembles, “Explain.”

“Through the monumental events involving myself and the House of Black this summer, my heritage has been made known to me. Aside from being the son of Orion Black, I am also the son of Isolde le Fay, his intended at the time of her death. This has been verified by Gringotts, blood, and by Magic herself.”

Several sharp inhales could be heard. Someone also appears to have fainted heavily. Sirius wrinkles his nose in distaste. “In addition, Fleamont Potter, Lord to the House of Potter, will act as my proxy for this imperial house which will remain amongst the darks.”

Sirius sits gracefully, masking his internal panic under a mask of cool indifference. He subtly glances at Regulus, who is red with furious outrage and a wounded betrayal. How fucking funny was that? His eardrums are rattling from the sheer noise that ruptures in response. There are shouts, furious bickering and it takes Bagnold several demands of ‘order’ for the chamber to quiet. Sirius can see various reporters scribbling furiously in their seats, practically frothing to see who will get this issue out faster than the next. 

“Welcome, new Lords, to the Wizengamot.” Bagnold clears her throat. “Are there additional seat announcements or changes to be made?”

Monty produces a lumos, rising when she acknowledges him. “In support as the proxy to the Imperial and Ancient House of le Fay and in accordance with my youngest heir, the Potter seat will be moving to the gray faction. In addition, I, Fleamont Ignatius Potter, claim proxy to the seat of the Imperial and Ancient House of Peverell in accordance with my oldest heir as well as the current proxy for the Most Noble and Ancient House of Prince. These houses will remain with the dark and gray respectively.” 

There is a thump of someone else fainting then the chamber is trembling again. Eerie mist fills the room, surging along the walls and floors like a writhing creature that shifts into the face of a rotting skull. Its jaw unhinges and spills out the murky image of souls silently screaming as they are sucked into the floor. There is a clap then the room turns freezing and shrill then nothing at all beyond a quiet snap. An acceptance.

This house really did suit Hadrian. Bagnold looks on the verge of a panic attack or perhaps, simply, death itself for how ashen she appears. Dumbledore appears thrilled with the increasing turn of events, eyes twinkling with merriment like it often did when the Marauders managed some grand prank. There is even more noise now as Monty returns to his seat, sending Sirius a goofy grin that is every inch of his sons, dimples on display. Sirius huffs, fond and amused.

“Since no one else has the balls to ask. How is this possible?!” Someone from the dark shouts furiously. “The le Fays are dead!”

“Yet here I sit.” Sirius says dryly. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, sir?”

There are a few snickers and gasps of incredulity despite how rude such an outburst is.

The man bristles, visibly chastised. “Stillen Egburst.” 

“Lord Egburst,” Sirius smiles, sharp. “Would it please you to know that the le Fays were very much alive? Yusura Morvain was the alias of my mother, otherwise known as Isolde le Fay. Surely an esteemed man such as yourself has heard of the Morvains as most dark houses have. Or is this name new to you as well?”

Someone laughs, startled, and it's quickly covered by a cough. Egburst’s face goes red with outrage.

“I can confirm this.” Lucan’s voice rings out. He smoothly crosses one leg over the other. “Given the terms of our Unbreakable Vows made to the Imperial and Ancient House of le Fay, upon the consented announcement of a le Fay by a le Fay, we are able to reference them without consequence. Isolde le Fay, otherwise known as Yusura Morvain, was my daughter.”

There are more shouts and startled noises. Another lumos comes from the dark side and Yaxley lazily tucks his wand away.

“What Lord Carrow and Lord le Fay state are true. The first wife of my father, Gordon Yaxley, was Elowen Yaxley nee le Fay. Those who attended Durmstrang would know her as Elowen Morvain. The Morvains have been a close house to other darks and grays for some time. I am even aware that one le Fay was promised to Tiberius Ogden before her unexpectant passing. If you attended Hogwarts, you would have known her as Anisa Morvain.”

“It is true.” Ogden’s voice rings out from the lights. 

Sirius can see Regulus fuming from where he sits, Malfoy sneering deeply, but Parkinson seems curious, stroking his neatly trimmed beard with a thoughtful expression. He whispers something into Nott’s ear, who nods. A lumos comes from the lights. Augusta Longbottom sits proud with her ridiculous perched dangerously on her head. “I am interested to hear how Lord Potter has claims to the seat of Peverell.”

She doesn’t sound upset, merely curious, her keen eyes assessing and sharp.

Monty seemed to have expected this. “The Potters have intersected with the Peverells through marriage and through blood. We are that last line of three. There are additional considerations that are needed to take place for lordship, which my eldest had completed on his 17th birthday. While he has no interest in such politics, Sirius has been a longtime friend to the Potters as many of you already know given the Prophet. While Potter has recently been light aligning, it is time we return to our roots of our family and in support of those we have brought into said family.”

Sirius’ heart clenches, elated.

Monty’s smile turns bloodthirsty, which is so unusual on his chipper expression. “I attended school with most of you and I know your children have attended with my children or you yourselves attended with my father. So it should not surprise you that Potter's loyalty is to what is considered theirs. I know you know what that loyalty looks like in the face of perceived threats whether through my actions, those of my father’s or those of my sons, especially my eldest.”

Augusta smirks. “I am aware of such things indeed, Lord Potter.”

Several members shift in wary discomfort, casting looks at Sirius then pitying ones towards certain members of the dark houses. Sirius would love to know what Fleamont Potter got up to in order to garner such a response. Then again, he did bag Euphemia, who was incredibly scary in her own right and the youngest of the Rudrapathas, a formidable house. Sirius had only ever seen Effie truly furious once and he never wanted to experience it again, much preferred her laughing or gossiping. Tiberius Ogden laughs deeply and claps his hands, eyes gleaming in heavy delight. 

“I-Is there anything else?” Bagnold asks, peering around a bit frantically like she’d love more than anything to move on to anything else. There is only furious whispering in response and the hard scribble of quills from reporters. Bagnold bangs her gavel, relieved. 

Unfortunately, there are bills introduced and bickering and Sirius realizes he should’ve kept his ass at home and demanded many snacks and, possibly, Marlene. Though, it is interesting to see Monty very in his element, assertive, firm, like James but there was an edge in his arguments that was all Hadrian when his tone would turn biting and cold. Sirius could easily see James doing the same thing eventually, so strong headed and difficult as he often was when they would argue.

They had to create a time out rule because Sirius could argue until James was practically salivating for his head and James could argue until Sirius turned him into a roach. Five minute rule for all disagreements under the furious vow of two 11 year olds that would physically shove both of them into a subsequent corner to stew it out, understand the perspective, and, hopefully, come to a middle ground. It usually just ended in numerous time outs and James becoming weepy because Sirius was pissed at him, which made Sirius feel awful. 

“Our final bill is in regards to the Goblin Labor Regulation,” Bagnold says, procuring a small pair of reading glasses as she peers at a long stretch of parchment. “After you’re finished, we will have a vote.”

Sirius finds himself furious by the end of reading, practically frothing because damn, had wixen kind not done enough already. He doesn’t know who suggested such a thing but they needed to be decked. The bill was aimed at restricting labor rights of goblins in the only industries they were allowed to work in. They also wanted wage control and more restrictions on goblins owning property and assets. This also included anyone with notable goblin heritage like Professor Flitwick. Sirius’ wand is lit as soon as the privacy screens drop, startling Monty and several others.

Bagnold nods to him.

Sirius resists the urge to set the parchment on fire, rising to his feet smoothly, earning curious looks. “I’d like to know who proposed such a bill. I am aware it's anonymous but if they can announce such outlandish things, they should stand bold in their claims.”

Bagnold blinks, startled, but another person rises from the darks, which, of fucking course, its a damn dark house. Sirius recognizes this man from his father’s Wizengamot memories and lessons. A fat fuck by the name of Odisius Timberton, who notably earned his fortune from the backs of confounded muggle workers in the factories of Chad. He seems disgruntled with being called out, already bristling at Sirius’ direct challenge. If he didn’t rise, he’d be seen as a coward. Well, cowardly men do suggest outlandish things under the guise of anonymity. 

“I’ll be plain,” Sirius starts dryly. “Are you trying to incite another revolt, Lord Timberton?”

Almost every eye snaps to him. There is a gasp.

Timberton clears his throat delicately. “The purpose is to prevent such an occurrence. With the current freedoms in place, we are seeing a progressive shift from goblins in response. Limiting their autonomy would make it easier to monitor their activities in case of such instances.

Sirius lifts an eyebrow. “By regulating the autonomy of the Horde, you are suggesting that they are no more than the worth they provide wixen kind. So let me ask you again, Lord Timberton, are you trying to incite another revolt? Historically, tensions between the Horde and wixen have been due to these increasing limitations from us.”

“This is to help protect them from being overworked and exploited for their services.” Timberton argues heatedly.

Sirius lifts the parchment. “I understand 8 different languages and I understand them well. That’s not what this bill suggests nor what it says. Section 8.1, quite literally, states restricting goblin economic power while Section 5 is solely about wixen control over the Horde’s workforce. The audacity for one. You intend to have our hands around their necks and bleed them dry while patting yourself on the back for being “fair” and “innovative” when the words aren’t even flowery or pretty enough to be persuasive. The members of this noble court are not idiots.” 

Sirius meets his gaze head on, steely. “We forced the goblins into the mines, into banking, and other key industries of the Horde while undermining their influence on our society. You want to make that noose tighter. Why? Where will you be, I wonder, when the Horde finally shuts their doors to us as we continue to encroach on their territory due to the limits we already have in place. Chad, perhaps, in the face of economic collapse, hm? If you want to be useful to the Horde, leave them the fuck alone. Give them wands. Do literally anything else beyond this drivel of shit I have just read.”

Lucan masks a smile behind his hand. Yaxley gapes.

Timberton blusters, cheeks pinking and embarrassed and Sirius makes a gesture as if to say go ahead, ready to argue further, but Timberton simply returns to his seat. Coward, his magic hisses. Sirius scoffs, flicking his fingers, and returns to his seat, making a show of setting the parchment on fire with a burst of blue flame. He vanishes the remnants with a sniff. What a weak bitch. Another reason why he hates dealing with this bullshit. All words, no substance. Monty snorts in heavy amusement. 

“Any other arguments for or against?”

“Lord le Fay took the wind right out of my sails.” Gideon chirps happily, earning a few titters. 

“Voting shall commence.” Bagnold huffs. “All in favor?”

A few dark houses, most notably Black and Malfoy, and some grays light their wands. 

“Against.”

Monty votes, as does Sirius since he’s here and all that shit. He does notice Lucan votes against as well as his buddies but his grandfather appears more amused than anything. Nott hesitates before voting as well and Parkinson’s head snaps to him, surprised. Monty sends Sirius a look, who snorts. Hadrian’s theories were looking accurate. Minister Bagnold calls the vote and the bill is thrown out as it fucking should be. There is a closing announcement about, well, Sirius doesn’t know, he tuned her out pretty heavily. He’s reached his limit for the day and would like to collapse in Effie’s lap at some point or perhaps convince Gatsby to take a nap. Oh, or Umbra's egg, Sirius thinks. So warm. Maybe he could show Hugin the Ara constellation.

Lucan beckons Sirius over once the session comes to a close. He appears a bit fidgety like he’s also at the end of his rope, which makes Isolde’s assumption about her father having anxiety a bit endearing because Sirius thinks he just has a low social battery at his grand age. Monty gives Sirius’ shoulder a squeeze before being aggressively heralded by Augusta and a darkly delighted Ogden. Lucan sends Yaxley and Abastor a withering look as Sirius draws closer and the other two leave with glittering, mean smiles, dragging Fawley with them, who just seems confused. 

Lucan’s severe expression softens completely. “I have experienced Orion’s way of arguing and Isla’s biting tongue. How curious that their son is such a mix of both.”

Sirius feels pleased. “I’m sure I would have made them both white in a matter of moments. I know I have made my father seethe on numerous occasions.”

“That is the job of the child. It keeps us young.” Lucan sniffs. He hesitates. “If you are amicable, I’d be glad to have you at the Manor.”

“I’d love that.” Sirius answers quickly. 

Lucan appears relieved, shoulders dropping minutely. Oof, maybe he does have anxiety, Sirius thinks, amused. Lucan clears his throat softly, straightening.

“Excellent. I will extend an invitation in the coming weeks.”

“Sweet. I’ll send my response with Gatsby. I know he’d be happy to see you.”

Lucan’s eyebrows shoot up. “He has rejoined our world? Ah, it has been many years.”

“Yep.” Sirius chirps. “He is a demanding horse and also seems to love sweet potato fritters despite his affinity for woodland creatures. Something to confess, grandfather?”

Lucan sniffs, pleased. “Certainly not, my boy. I do not share such things. However, if I happened to leave any unattended, well, I can’t be held accountable for the actions of those tempted.” 

Sirius laughs, he can’t help it, because how ridiculous. They chat for a bit longer until Monty disentangles himself from his rowdy light families and, strangely, Nott and a heavily curious Parkinson. Sirius does notice Regulus’ gaze, meets it evenly, seeing that spark of derision, that hatred, and simply turns away, blank face, dismissive. He knows such action has Black bristling like some offended bird and Sirius struggles to not care. They weren’t brothers. They weren’t anything but at least Regulus could be honest about it unlike Remus. That broken expression he had, full of regret like that could sweep away the pain of his lies. 

There are numerous questions sent his way when Monty wraps an arm around him, about the le Fays, about Isolde, his father and its jarring and painful because his family were just sideshow characters to these people’s lives instead of being prominent figures in his own. It was as if they were just a whisper of his loss, his grief instead of being once real. It was all so fresh to him, so new like an ever growing wound. His father. His disownment. His mother. Sirius shrinks into himself, struggling to not let it show how bothered he is. 

Monty notices, smoothly directing the conversation to Gideon and about Fabian’s recent promotion, how Frank is doing with the Aurors, about Molly Prewett’s recent engagement to Arthur Weasley. Sirius is grateful. He doesn’t think he could handle any more probing conversations. Augusta does send a few threatening, stern looks whenever someone moves to bring the topic up again and apparently between Madame Longbottom and a slow, darkening smile from Fleamont Potter has most of them politely excusing themselves. 

“Your sons have arrived, Potter.” Ogden announces.

“They what?” Monty turns, attention snagged. “Boys!”

Sirius lifts up to peer over his shoulder, perking up to see James and Hadrian striding towards them. It's a bit comical to see their differences in attire, especially wizarding when muggle wise they almost dressed the same when lazing around the house but Sirius just thinks James likes stealing his brother’s clothes. James is all soft gold and a pearly white while Hadrian is vibrant black and spectral gray. James bounces up to them happily, a direct contrast to Hadrian’s cool gaze sliding calculating around the room. His expression does soften when it lands on them, just a touch.

“Hades said we’re- Oops, manners.” James gasps, bowing deeply to their group. “My lords and lady, it's so nice to see you again.”

Gideon snorts. “Frankly, if you started with that I’d assume you were body snatched.”

Augusta simpers. “You have grown, Heir Potter. Almost as tall as your brother now.”

James beams. “I have an inch left. I think I’ll surpass him.”

“If you ate your broccoli, you would’ve done so by now.” Hadrian says dryly, inclining his head. “Frank did fantastic work this past week, Madame Longbottom. Lord Prewett, your brother is an idiot. Lord Ogden, for the love of all things holy, I have had enough of your granddaughter’s cat. Why couldn’t she get a dog or, literally, anything else?”

Augusta seems pleased. 

Ogden snorts, eyes glittering. “But you’ve made a 4 year old so happy, Heir Peverell. Whenever young Lacey disappears, we know she has simply gone to visit Hadrian Potter and will return soon.”

Gideon sighs heavily. “What has he done now?”

Hadrian sends Ogden a withering look before turning to Gideon, deadpanning, “What didn’t he do.”

“Fab keeps eating the shellfish.” James says cheerfully and Gideon pales.

“Isn’t he allergic?” Sirius asks, awed. He certainly was when they fooled around.

Gideon, if possible, pales more. “That idiot.”

Hadrian sniffs. “As I said. This is why I don’t mingle with the Auror department. I should limit my time there further.”

“How else would I receive my eclairs, Heir Peverell?” Augusta asks severely. “I cannot receive them via owl as my daughter in law thieves. She stalks the sky for your bird.” 

“How dreadful.” Hadrian mutters. “I could lace them.”

James blinks. “You should do that the next time you make clams. Maybe the runs coupled with the threat of death will discourage Fab even further.”

Hadrian makes a thoughtful sound, eyebrows raised.

Sirius gapes. “Do not do that, Hades. Prongs, don’t encourage this.”

“James Yama.” Monty says sternly. “Hadrian Shani, we have discussed this.” He blinks. “Hades? Oh, I love that. Stolen. Your mother will be thrilled.”

James pouts heavily. Hadrian pulls a face and Ogden chuckles, delighted. 

“Hands full, Potter?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice rings out.

Sirius stiffens, turning a haughty look to Malfoy, who meanders towards them, his long cane tapping along the floor. Black is nowhere to be seen, which is a plus, but Goyle is with him, lips pursed as if he smelt something foul. How hypocritical considering that shade of green does not suit this man’s complexion.

“Malfoy.” Monty greets smoothly, smile polite.

“Better than hands empty, yes?” Sirius arches an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to balance the voting of four different houses. How is your one, Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s mouth pinches, lips curling slightly. “And how is your new one, le Fay?”

Sirius sees James bristle out of the corner of his eye and smiles, sugary sweet. “Certainly worth more weight than the last.” 

“It must be nice not having to prove your worth anymore.” Goyle laughs. “No one can argue your right to be here if they’re all dead, yeah?”

Sirius bristles, vibrant fury writhing inside him.

“Careful, Goyle.” Malfoy simpers. “No need to state the obvious.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” James spits angrily. 

“James.” Monty chastises softly. 

“Isn’t that how you got your title too, Gregory? No use mourning a dead heir when you’ve got a spare, yeah?” Sirius says sweetly. He gives him a biting smile. “Keep my families name out of your fucking mouth when the only reason you’re here is because Jr is rotting and dead in the ground. Do you weep over his tombstone or do you simply spit good riddance?”

Goyle takes a step forward, threatening and an ugly shade of red, and stumbles back hard as a misty, feathered hand surges out of Sirius and shoves him bodily in the chest before fading like mist. Sirius hadn’t even felt Hugin react but he was always moving, shifting, waiting, likely felt Sirius’ growing anger. Goyle almost falls, steadying himself at the last minute. 

“That was your warning.” Hadrian states plainly. “Run along now. We aren’t in school anymore, Goyle. I am not as kind as Sirius and I will split you apart if you step near him again.”

“And I’ll pee on you after.” James huffs. 

What the fuck, Prongs, Sirius thinks, amused. James sends him a wink. 

Monty gives a quiet sigh, clearly having given up. Malfoy angles his cane in front of Goyle, who seems to be debating on if whatever he’s thinking it's worth the consequence but ultimately sends Sirius an ugly look before storming off. Malfoy gives Sirius a long, lingering glance that drags along his form then turns to follow. Sirius shakes out his hands, feeling wrong and weird and jesus, Malfoy was such a fucking creep sometimes. He didn’t know what his cousin fucking saw in this man. Lucius Malfoy was always so damn weird, has been since Sirius was a fucking child.

Hadrian moves to stand beside him, watching the two go even as Monty turns to berate James, much to the others’ growing amusement now that the tense moment has passed. Hadrian slides a gentle hand along Sirius’ lower back, eyes still focused on where Malfoy and Goyle slink through the exit. Sirius’ cheeks warm. Goyle does look back with a sneer and flinches at whatever he sees before scampering off. Hadrian relaxes minutely, turning to Sirius, amused. 

“I need to put you in a box.”

Sirius gapes, startled. “What did I do? I didn’t start this!”

Hadrian lifts an eyebrow. 

Sirius huffs, offended, and okay, perhaps he did rise to the bait but fuck that guy. He sniffs. “Fine. I’ll keep it to two insults per conversation.” 

Both eyebrows are now lifted.

Sirius huffs once more. “One insult or next time I deck him. Pick your poison, Hadrian.”

Hadrian sighs deeply, aggrieved. “One insult.”

“Fine.” Sirius says, petulant, glaring down at his boots.

Two fingers tap gently under his chin and Sirius looks up and he’s sure he is pouting, which must be the case given how charmed Hadrian appears. He throws up his hands, realizing Hadrian’s hand is still on him and his face goes hot once more. Hadrian seems smug and doesn’t remove his hand, just steadies him as James drapes over Sirius like some hulking monstrosity. Sirius rolls his eyes, looping an arm around James’ ribs. These Potters.

“Hades said we’re gonna eat out.” James says happily. “He even let me pick!”

“It was your turn, Jay.” Hadrian snorts.

“Hey, hey. You agreed to let me have this.” James argues.

“Yes, little sun.” Hadrian hums. “There’s a place in Leeds Jaime wants to try.”

Oh, how fun, Sirius thinks. He’s never been to Leeds. “What kind of place is it?”

“Some uppity place where you can eat the flowers. Thought you might like it.”

Sirius glares at him. “Something you might like, you dumb deer.”

“I’m sure there are sticks as well. Maybe even branches.” James says serenely.

Sirius punches him in the gut, hard.

Hadrian lazily vanishes the vomit when James tumbles over.

Notes:

just a teeny time jump, nothing too crazy. I wanted to get this out because we have shit coming lmaooo. I also wanted to set the stage because now, officially, to all public, Siri is a le Fay. This may be great or terrible, who knows but I, a generous and kind god who will be doing unkind things :3c

next chapter will, I believe, contain Hugin and the fwuits of Hadrian & Elias' labor with Riri's murdery birb. Oh, and Crowe. Then we will have a interlude of sorts that may involve seeing your ex while out clubbing huehuehue. And Sev will eventually show his face. I have not forgotten him! He is just a busy man!

We'll start going downhill after that :3 Soft reminder that this fic, like all of mine, are self indulgent so anything that ever feels awful or terrible will be handled. I may make Sirius Black suffer often but he's still my main bitch, periodtttttt

Chapter 9: Nights Like This

Summary:

Kids go out, kids just wanna have fun.

Notes:

TWs, nonconsenual touching (someone grabs a waist, tis it), Hades' murdery temper, language, possible slut shaming? Dudes bein' gross, alcohol consumption, threats of violence, discussions of violence, discussions of severe injury

- Sirius Flirty & Not Thirty le Fay
- Marlene Janet McKinnon is her own warning (lovingly)
- Sirius le Fay's mouth ™
- Flirting? With me????
- Sirius' general lack of self worth but he does have some self awareness
- James is a weepy, loving drunk and I will die on this hill
- Isolde's response (its giving cunt)
- A birb hatches

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius had regrets two hours ago but now, he’s realizing this is the best idea Marlene McKinnon has had all week beyond taking him to Glencoe Valley for a picnic that ended with them wrestling like idiots with flowers in their hair. Then again, Sirius just doesn’t have the ability to tell Marlene no. It just wasn’t in his genetics, new magic or not. When Marlene called, Sirius answered just as he would answer James’ call but at least, Marlene’s ideas never potentially landed him in muggle jail or detention or whatever. 

The music pulses loudly in the club like a heartbeat, bass thumping along the walls and sticky floors. It wasn’t often they came to muggle London, certainly not the night life. It was more of Mary’s thing, Lily’s thing… Remus’ thing but Marlene wanted to go out, wanted to dress Sirius up like some muggle deity and “god, please, I will get you laid”. 

Granted, Sirius needed a brain break and he looks hot as fuck and it shows in the ways eyes linger on him, how many polite declines he’s had to make already. He wasn’t interested in getting to know anyone and maybe a year ago, he would’ve, would’ve ate that shit up and relished in it but now. Sirius doesn’t know what he wants. He felt like he had so much more baggage now. What could he offer a muggle? What could he offer anyone? Trauma? A fucked up psyche? The weird raven, Hugin, that watches him in his dreams? 

Sirius vaguely wonders why the fuck he agreed to go out tonight when he has work in the morning, which has become less dreadful since discovering Barty was also there. Ok, not dreadful because Sirius has never felt more fulfilled in his life. He vaguely wonders if this is nepotism considering he is chummy with most of the tenured Brigade members but was it really being chummy when they consistently just swept the floor with him? Regardless, the other recruits sort of… kept their distance from him, especially after his name dropped.

Navigating being a le Fay was far more delicate than being a Black. It was interesting to see his worth be assessed and weighed with every encounter he had with someone new. Crowe’s interest grew and grew with each passing day but higher ups tended to want power under their palms. However, Roderick didn’t seem like some shady person, seemed straightforward and direct and genuinely interested in watching him improve. 

“Buy me one too.” Lily’s voice rings out, her arm looping into his.

Sirius leans against her. “What do you want? I’m not getting that lemon shit again.”

“Ugh. Fine. Get two Vegas Bombs.” She pouts. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

“Alright, alright.” Sirius laughs, waving down the bartender. He certainly appreciates how this woman’s eyes linger on him. Sirius gives her a flirty smile. “Two Vegas Bombs, please.”

Her cheeks go bright red. “Sure thing.” 

Lily smacks Sirius’ arm when the bartender turns around, amused. “Look at you. Using these looks for evil. Any plans for tonight, Siri?”

“God, no. Surprised Marlene hasn’t dragged me back out there yet.” Sirius laughs. Marlene was the actual devil and fed his energy to abnormal degrees. She was back on the dancefloor, swept into Dorcas’ arms with some tall man, who kept fist pumping the air as he bounces around them. He can almost feel their laughter from here, all wide smiles and pretty teeth. James was off god knows where and judging from the roar at the corner of the bar, Sirius imagines his best friend is the cause. No limbs are being thrown so Sirius assumes everything’s cool. Hadrian was also here, notably, with some girl pressed into his space, all coy smiles and a lock of hair between her fingers. 

Sirius accepts their drinks with a wink, passing one to Lily and pressing a crisp hundred into the bartender’s hand. He waves off her attempts to give him change, earning a pleased little smile, and is promptly dragged away by a giggling Lily. They manage to find a booth of sorts, squeezing in side by side across from a heavily inebriated couple that is doing more tongue slurping than anything else.

“That man at the bar has been watching you since we entered.” Lily says innocently. “Could be a nice way to spend some of that energy.”

Sirius pulls a face. “Ew. If I was entertaining, I would’ve picked the second dude or literally any woman who came up to me tonight. Ehhh, maybe the bartender. Dude looks like a gopher.”

Lily chokes on her drink. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

Sirius blinks, taking a sip of his drink. Oh, wow, that is perfection. He hums happily. “I don’t want another hoe phase. Shit’s exhausting.”

And he just doesn’t think he could handle it. Sometimes Sirius started to become attached which was not conducive to what a hoe phase was and he didn’t like seeing people he was sleeping with with other people. Combined with the rotting feeling that’s been building inside him since he discovered Remus, Regulus, Sirius is certain he’d just cling to anything that felt good and break himself on it.

“Ugh, I know. I don’t know how you found the energy when we were at school. I’m surprised James is so, heaven’s help me, committed considering Hadrian is very much not, according to Dorcas.”

“Makes sense with his job and all.” Sirius responds distractedly, studying a curious overhead light. Is it squirrel shaped? “What a shame. He’s hot as fuck.”

Lily gasps loudly. “What did you say?”

Sirius doesn’t know what she’s talking about but he might be more drunk than he thought. He wonders if she also sees a squirrel. Sirius sends her a confused look, downing the rest of his drink, and watches her turn an alarming shade of shady, which he has immense regrets about. He frowns deeply. 

“Why are you being scary?”

“Sirius,” Lily starts. “You just said Hadrian Potter was hot. Hot as fuck more specifically.”

Sirius squints, nervous. “I don’t think I said that.”

A lie but he would die on this hill because wow, how embarrassing. Oh, wait. Oh, shit, he did say that. Well, it was true. Hadrian Potter was a fine specimen of genetics, like James was, just more how good would his hands feel around his wrists instead of what great hugs he must give with those forearms. Omg, Sirius thinks wildly. Maybe he should start drinking some water. Sirius stabs a threatening finger at Lily, who leers at him. He is saved by Dorcas, who slams into the booth across from them, startling the tongue couple but not enough to stop whatever synchronous dance they’re doing. Dorcas sends them an ugly look, cheeks flushed dark. She turns to Sirius, wide eyed and winded. “You’re up, Siri. I’m going to drop. Marly has jinxed the DJ.”

Sirius laughs, delighted, and a new song blasts through the speakers, heavier and faster and he downs the rest of his drink, forcing himself up as Marlene bounces over, already ready to drag him back to the dancefloor. Sirius goes with a grin, heart thudding in his chest. The heat of the bodies surrounding them is nearly suffocating, lights flashing in time with the beat. Sirius can’t hear anything beyond the music, Marlene’s fingers intertwined in his. 

Marlene spins towards him, looping an arm across his shoulders as she grinds against him. Sirius matches her easily, hands resting on her hips. Marlene’s cheeks are flushed pink, her smile bright and infectious and work be damned, he wouldn’t have denied her this. It feels so nostalgic, so them, like the times before Dorcas finally realized what a spectacular specimen Marlene McKinnon was; when it would just be them at Gryffindor parties because James was off laughing with Peter and Remus was splitting cigarettes in the corner with Mary and Lily. James liked dancing but he was sloppy and just a huge goof and Sirius would spend more time laughing with James in his arms than doing much else. Remus never really danced at all.

But Marlene did. It was their thing. It was, also, how Sirius found himself cornered by one Dorcas Meadows during his 4th year after a Slytherin party they crashed with Barty, ready to hex him to bits because she thought he had a crush on Marlene. Sirius had never laughed so much in his life, threats be damned. A set of hands slide onto his hips and Sirius starts, peering over his shoulder to see the Gopher man pressing into his backside.

“Not interested.” Sirius dismisses lazily, turning back to Marlene.

Marlene tugs Sirius into her closer with a sneer. 

“Why not? You’re not with her.” The man hedges. He was taller than Sirius, certainly more bulky with a cocky grin that Sirius wanted to put his fist into.

“I’m not with you either, big boy.” Sirius makes a shooing motion. “Not. Interested.”

“Just one drink.”

“Fuck off.” Marlene snarls. 

The man bristles, grin faltering slightly. “I’m just trying-”

“He’s not interested.” Hadrian’s smooth voice cuts in, stepping in front of them with a calmness that is bellied by the hard line of his shoulders. His eyes flash dangerously, as he looks the man up and down with a dismissive glance. “Fuck off.”

The response from the man is immediate, a deep frown twisting his simple features. He scoffs, sending Sirius an ugly look. “Maybe you shouldn’t let him dress like a fuckin’ cocktease if he’s taken. Keep your bitch on a leash.”

Sirius shifts, feeling his temper flare, offended, because what the actual fuck. Hadrian takes a step closer to the man, a dark smile slowly crossing his face. “Gonna offer your neck as rope then? I’m down.”

Sirius watches, heart racing, as the Gopher man sizes Hadrian up with a shaky swallow. His gaze flickers back to Sirius, expression hardening into a sneer and Hadrian steps neatly between them, pushing hard into the man’s space. “Nah. You don’t look at him again. You look at me.”

Marlene whistles in sharp appreciation. The gopher man’s shoulders square up but Hadrian remains unmoved and Sirius wonders what face he’s making that causes this man’s pupils to dilate so suddenly. A dancer stumbles into the man, earning a heavy chastisement and the gopher man, mustering a scoff, storms back into the crowd. Hadrian watches him go for a long moment, shoulders loosening minutely when Sirius tentatively touches his arm. He turns to Sirius, expression softening. “You alright?”

Sirius manages a nod. He feels a bit like a maiden, how unusual. Usually it’s him busting weird dudes off the girls, which was a kindness considering how brutal they all were. Last time, Sirius was not fast enough and Marlene broke her hand into some dude’s eye socket and ruptured it. Sirius realizes he may be swooning. Oh. That would not do. He needs water. Immediately. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

Marlene looks curiously between them. She grins, expression strange and impish. “Now you have to dance with us, Potter. Who knows what other bastardly devils want to oogle at these tits?” Marlene cups Sirius’ chest and squeezes. She sighs. “Oh yes. I have done my duty. The world should be honored.”

“Oh, we are.” Hadrian deadpans. “I don’t dance.”

“What if we say please?” Sirius asks before his brain can stop his mouth. Marlene sends Hadrian a pouty look. His eyes narrow at them. 

“Please, Potter.” Dorcas says, suddenly at Hadrian’s side and looping an arm into his. He sighs deeply. “Be grateful I allowed you to dance with Marlene, Siri. Even if you two bring too much drama.”

Sirius gapes. “Hey. Marls was mine first!”

“Tis true.” Marlene pouts. “But we are in a happy marriage now so you’re the odd ones out. Sirius is a bottom most of the time so you have to be sweet, Hadrian. He cries easily.”

Hadrian chokes.

Sirius’ head snaps to her, embarrassed, and also what the fuck. The audacity! “Marlene Janet McKinnon.”

Marlene blinks innocently. “What? They’re both bisexual. I am here to support queer rights and queer wrongs. We’ve made out a few times, Siri. You know I am gentle and kind so I can give him pointers.”

“I genuinely hate this conversation now.” Dorcas sends Sirius a threatening smile.

“How is this my fault?” Sirius glowers at her. “She was my lesbian before she was yours!”

“And?!” Dorcas argues and it is telling how drunk she is because Dorcas Meadowes would never be so petulant sober. She’d just be violent. “I’m sharing Hadrian so. So you have to share Marlene! That’s the rules!”

Sirius doesn’t understand what’s happening but Dorcas’ eyes are looking wet and he does not like that. “Fuck, okay, Cas, I will share.”

“Oh, Cas.” Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose.

Dorcas sniffles, pressing her face into Hadrian’s shoulder, and Marlene coos. “Aw, besties.”

“Besties.” Sirius chirps.

“Heaven’s help me.” Hadrian mutters, suffering. “Fine. You get 5 minutes then I need to go save Jay’s liver.”

“Where is Prongs?” Sirius lifts up to peer over the crowd. He sees James doing body shots off Lily with a hoard of cackling women around them. Eh, he’s fine. It’ll be fine. Sirius waves Hadrian off. “He’d want to die this way. It’s fine.”

“Shots first then. This song's ass.” Hadrian says, guiding Dorcas towards the bar. Marlene and Sirius clamor behind them. The bartender supplies them with a healthy amount of shots, flirting heavily with Hadrian, who either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. The girl he was with before doesn’t make an appearance either. Maybe he was just here as designated dad, which was usually James’ title but he was currently two shades to the wind or at least seems to be when he comes crashing into Sirius’ space, bodily knocking him into Hadrian, who steadies him easily with a hand on his lower back.

Sirius’ face feels incredibly hot all of a sudden.

“Bro. Dude? Pads. Wow, your skin is so soft. My bestie is so pretty. Woooow.” James slurs, nodding. He squeezes Sirius face gently. “Have you seen Lily? Lily is so , so beautiful tonight. Do you think she’s pretty?”

“She is.” Sirius agrees readily, pushing a glass of water into James’ hands that Hadrian gives him. “Can you drink that for me?”

“I would die for you.” James says seriously, downing the entire glass.

Sirius coos, “Oh, you dumb deer. Hades is going to dance with us.”

James’ face lights up. “Oh man. I’m excited!” He frowns. “Hades? Oh. Oh, I love that. Stolen.”

“Do not start, Jaime. Drink this.” Hadrian reaches over to flick his forehead. He sets another glass of water in front of James, settling his arm on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius can see a vein in his forearm and the tiniest spot of freckles. He may be more drunk than he thought but at least no one can hear him sniffing Hadrian’s skin. Clove? Hm, sandalwood? What is that? It smells good whatever it is. 

“Yes, sir, Hades, sir.” James chirps, greedily slurping his drink.

“Can I vote for a new nickname?” Hadrian asks, amused, peering down at Sirius, who is struggling to keep his expression level. It must be the alcohol because he doesn’t understand why he is acting this way. He manages an innocent look, earning an eye roll.

“No, Hades.” Sirius says sweetly.

“Alright, Riri.” Hadrian grins. Sirius finds himself staring at his dimples. 

“Holy fuck!” Marlene shouts. “This is my song! Move it or die, idiots!”

Sirius is tugged sharply from Hadrian’s arms, laughing in delight at her rambunctious happiness. It is a wild affair, especially when Lily starts screaming the lyrics, her hair rampant and wild, the thin hairband that held it together long gone. James is attempting to do something that may be the American version of a square dance but Sirius wouldn’t know. This is what summer should be, laughter, getting smacked in the face by Lily Evan’s amazing smelling hair, Marlene’s voice in his ear. Maybe it's what it could be now, permanently. No more grief, no more heartache. 

What a wild thought, Sirius thinks. And ok, he is more drunk than he realizes because he does nearly fall over a few times because he can’t stop laughing as James tries, and fails, to twerk on him while Lily throws muggle money at them. Marlene has Dorcas in her arms, spinning and laughing and yes, this is what summer should be. Maybe he could convince them to go to the beach again. He had a house on the coast anyway, a house from a dead family he never got to meet. 

Well, aside from Lucan and his reserved, thrilled letters.

Sirius felt like he just had so much shit to do all of sudden. He did create an incubator, or whatever, for Umbra’s fancy egg that just seemed to grow hotter and hotter with each passing day. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up one day with said bird sitting on his chest like some soul sucking demon. His magic, also, seemed to give him less issues recently. Progress.

“I need a cigarette.” Sirius thinks. Mm, yes, definitely drunk. 

“Do I need to tell maa, Riri?” Hadrian asks, amused. Sirius hadn’t even realized they were dancing together, registering the hard press of Hadrian’s body against his own, hands on his bare waist. It makes his stomach twist. 

“Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?” Sirius laughs, embarrassed. “Wait. No. No. I swear I only do it when I’m drunk. Am I drunk? Wait. God. Don’t tell Effie. She will skin me.”

Hadrian laughs, and wow, such a nice sound. Sirius doesn’t think he should be pressed this close to his best friend’s older brother, especially when he just got out of a relationship despite its harrowing end. Then again, Remus clearly didn’t feel for Sirius how Sirius felt for him even if he said he did. Sirius had almost said it back, said I love you so, so many times like in the morning when Remus would be bleary eyed and rumpled, when he would pour over his research paper, when he’d spill his coffee all over said paper. Sirius never got the chance and how he never would. That was fine. That was okay. But. Still. How shitty. Tears bite Sirius’ eyes. 

“Fuck Lupin.” Hadrian says lowly. 

Sirius manages a laugh. “Are you a legilimens?” 

“Nah. I just read people well.” Hadrian hums, neatly sidestepping them from a drunk dancer’s very horrendous stumble. “I can let his letters in through the wards if you want.”

Sirius looks up at him, their eyes meeting. He feels a jolt of some kind and it's incredibly scary. He slowly shakes his head. Sirius didn’t even know why Remus would write to him, why he would bother, why he would care. “There’s nothing to say, yeah?”

Hadrian’s palms are so warm on his skin. 

“Yeah.” Hadrian agrees easily. His lashes are so long and dark. He gives Sirius a mean smile. “Such a strange face you’re making, Sirius.”

“I am?” Sirius asks, dumb, fingers flexing where they’re curled along Hadrian’s forearm. 

“Mhm. You should be careful. You’re not quite sober enough for my response.”

Oh. Oh. Oh, wow!

“You’re kind of mean.” Sirius tells him. I think that’s my type, he thinks.

Hadrian’s eyes darken. “How funny. I already knew that.”

“Oh?” Sirius’ heart is hammering in his chest. Did he say that out loud?

“Oh my god, my babies!” James’ voice rings out. He drapes himself over Sirius, curling his arms around them, and rests his head on Sirius’. Sirius ends up squeezed tight between them, face tucked into the curve of Hadrian's neck. These damn Potter men and this height! Sirius huffs, amused. Hadrian reaches up to ruffle James’ hair, who sounds a bit weepy in response. James sniffles thickly.

“I love you guys.”

“Ah. It is officially time to go home.” Hadrian hums, sliding his hand along the curve of Sirius’ back. Shit, we should go home, Sirius thinks wildly. 

“Hadz, no. I’m just emotional, I swear.” James whimpers. Frankly, this is a telling factor that James Potter has had too much and needs firm limits and a dirt nap of the living variety.

“Oh yes, little sun.” Hadrian says, heavily amused. “Lily has her internship and so does Marlene. We want them to be well rested so they can succeed, yeah?”

James nods, appearing dazed. “Food for fuel! I will make them the best burritos in the morning.”

“I want a burrito.” Sirius mutters. A burrito sounds fantastic right now. His stomach grumbles. 

“Pads, did you eat before we left? Was that your stomach?” James asks suddenly.

“How did you even hear that?!” 

“He didn’t eat enough.” Hadrian says solemnly. “See, Jaime? We have to feed our people. We have to keep them strong and supported. Who else will keep Sirius supported?”

This seems to motivate James to incredibly baffling degrees. Sirius does find Hadrian’s manipulations hilarious because they’re paying the tab and leaving within 5 minutes of James’ realizations that they do, in fact, feed their people. Lily is on James’ back, singing some muggle song as she waves her hands dramatically. It is truly a miracle they haven’t tumbled to the concrete. Marlene has become increasingly handsy with Dorcas, who is turning a marvelous shade of red.

“Shit, can we even apparate?” Sirius asks, shivering in the bitter night air. “Oh, are we gonna take a taxi? I’ve never been in one.”

“Nah. I’ll get us home.” Hadrian says dismissively, shrugging out of his jacket. He hands it to Sirius, lifting a challenging eyebrow when he moves to protest.

Sirius huffs, chastised, and tugs it on. It's a bit big on him, with the pinched sleeves partially covering his fingers but otherwise incredibly warm and smells like Hadrian’s cologne. He finds himself sniffing before he can stop himself. Hadrian sends him a deeply amused, dark look, which is just as well because Sirius finds himself turtling in the collar from sheer embarrassment. God. He needs to be sober, immediately, now, as soon as possible because fuck.

“James.” Hadrian says curtly when James wanders too far from them.

“Yessir.” James chirps, turning back just as fast. Lily giggles. “I have my buddy.”

“Ah.” Dorcas mutters, peering past Sirius. Marlene dangles from her shoulders, looking lovesick and stupid. “Mine or your way?”

“We can do your way. I’ll hold the end, just in case.” Hadrian says cooly, already looking over his shoulder. He turns back, dismissive. Sirius is confused by their conversation but maybe he just wasn’t paying attention. Dorcas huffs, amused, placing a hand on a thin tree that has been strategically placed in the sidewalk, surrounded in ugly looking stones. Muggles were so silly sometimes. Couldn’t they pick better rocks? Or better trees to line the sidewalk?

Hadrian offers Sirius his arm, which he gingerly takes. Sirius isn’t fully sure what they’re going to do smack dab in the middle of a dwindling sidewalk but the muggles don’t seem to notice them at all. Oh, maybe someone casted a charm. Hmm, maybe a repellent, Sirius thinks. He peers back at the club entrance while Dorcas is weaving whatever concoction, watching club goers spill inside, rosy cheeked and laughing and he sees him, sees them. Sirius startles badly.

Remus is standing in line with Mary and a rumpled Peter, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he listens to whatever Mary is saying. He almost looks the same but there are deep circles under his eyes, smile a bit more tired. A breeze passes and Sirius can see the exact moment Remus smells him, how his nostrils flare, the way his head snaps up as he looks around. Their eyes meet. Remus’ cigarette drops from his mouth, visibly startled, and there is a fracture of grief in his face. Sirius squeezes Hadrian’s arm, heart stuttering in his chest and he feels upset, angry, because how dare Remus Lupin wear such a fucking face.

Hadrian gently guides Sirius to stand before him and he looks away before seeing Mary or Peter’s reaction. There is a faint glow coming from the tree now and Dorcas simply walks into it with Marlene’s hand in hers and they disappear. Sirius’ eyebrows shoot up, awed. Lily whistles in sharp appreciation and James shoots him a grin that falters completely. He seems to notice Remus, expression hardening with a seething rage. Hadrian clears his throat softly. James bristles, gritting his teeth as he looks at Sirius then deflates. He carries Lily into the not-tree but not before reaching back and snagging Sirius’ wrist with a heated look over his shoulder. Hadrian makes a low noise of confirmation. Sirius catches a glimpse of Remus rushing over with Mary and Peter, how Hadrian blocks their path with a lazy, threatening step and they’re gone.

Sirius isn’t completely sure how he found himself in the Potter’s living room but he is grateful to see this rug and wall decorations. Sirius slumps on the couch, rubbing his face roughly with both hands. God, who was he fucking kidding? He was a mess. He should not be flirting with anyone especially not Hadrian fucking Potter. What could he even offer him when he wasn’t enough for fucking Remus? Yeah, lets just ruin another fucking family by putting my useless hands on something, Sirius thinks miserably.

“I’ll put Lils to bed and I’ll be right back.” James says, nearly toppling over.

Sirius is struggling not to cry. He forces a grin. “Go to bed. I’m fine.”

“Sirius Altair Padfoot Potter le Fay.” James says sternly.

“I pinky promise.” Sirius lies and James narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. 

“That’s, like, so serious.” Lily hiccups, drowsy. “Trust in the pinky.”

This seems to be the confirmation that James needed but he does send Sirius a threatening look before carrying a sleepy, singing Lily Evans upstairs. Hadrian appears just as Sirius feels he’s on the cusp of some sort of breakdown looking put together and unbothered. He takes a long look at Sirius then nods his head to the kitchen entrance. Sirius forces his legs to follow. He settles at the kitchen island, still wrapped in Hadrian’s jacket, dazedly watching him bustle around the kitchen. 

“Do you… not get drunk?” Sirius blurts out.

Hadrian chuckles. “I do. It just takes a lot. My tolerance is pretty high since I don’t have Cas on the field anymore when I manage to fuck up.”

Oh, Sirius thinks. Hadrian settles across from him, placing a plate of golden, crisp kofta balls before him. They’re nestled in a rich, velvety sauce that shimmers faintly. It smells incredible. A fork appears beside the plate. Sirius stares at it for a long moment before slowly taking the fork. He cuts into one absently and eats it, the crisp texture giving way to a delicate potato center and some kind of cheese. Paneer, he thinks Effie called it. It's so strange, being in this house, being at this table. It isn’t fair that he’s here at all, that Remus could make such a face despite his assistance in ruining Sirius’ life. Were they even now? 

Now we can move forward, Mary had said.

We can work it out, Peter had said.

What fucking bullshit. Remus didn’t get thrown out of his house, didn’t get ripped from his own magic so completely, didn’t have to realize his actual mother was fucking dead and so was his father and he was alone, he was fucking alone. His family beyond one person was fucking dead. Sirius didn’t care if Remus hadn’t known what Regulus had planned, didn’t care that it didn’t go the way he envisioned. It fucking hurt. They were even but that was it. Anger burns so bright and so terrible inside him that it threatens to choke him completely. His vision blurs. Sirius blinks, tears spilling from his eyes. Shit, he thinks, wiping his face furiously. Shit. Shit. Shit.  

He makes a tiny, miserable noise. God. Sirius was tired.

“You’ll find no judgment here, Sirius.” Hadrian says softly. 

The Potters were, truly, too good to him. Sirius’ mouth trembles around a weak sob. He’s tired of crying. He’s sick and tired of crying, crying, crying. It feels like he’s grieving, like he’s been grieving since Alphard died, since his father, and so much has just been unearthed and churned and it keeps building. He hates them both. Regulus. Remus. Sirius wants their necks in his teeth, he wants to shake them and shake them until their heads become detached from their bodies and the world can see every ounce of bullshit that created their every nerve. Sirius manages to pull himself together, feeling raw and empty.

“Sorry.” He mutters.

Hadrian waves him off lazily. “I admit your current response or lack thereof hasn’t matched what I know of you.”

Because I deserve this, he thinks. Sirius takes another bite. “I was considering a blood feud. Mom suggested a blood curse instead since… I’m not trying to fuck up everyone. I don’t know if it would be worth it.”

Hadrian leans against his arms, appearing thoughtful. “That’s certainly one way to handle offense.”

“Murder doesn’t seem like enough.” Sirius says plainly. He swallows hard. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

Sirius didn’t want to be a bad person. He didn’t want to hurt anyone just because he felt wronged. The situation was of his own making. He abandoned Regulus. He betrayed Remus. But… this response. Sirius’ mouth twists. He didn’t know what he wanted to do about Remus. He’s scared of what this anger will look like once it moves past the hurt. 

“You’re plotting.” Hadrian snorts, tilting his head. “I did hear some curious news recently about another series of Black properties being leveled to the foundation. Apparently, the ground itself is unable to be used in rebuilding because it is drenched in some curious magic that causes the earth itself to rot and any who step upon it are infected with an incurable flesh eating disease that masks itself as boils. I do feel bad for the wizard inspectors Black hired, however. Poor bastards.”

Ah, his mother must’ve been busy like she said she would be. He had never seen an empty portrait before and it was unnerving as was the murderous grin Alaric wore. Sirius manages a tremulous smile. “More shadow work?”

“Kinda. I get a lot of whispers.” Hadrian shrugs, amused.

Sirius takes another slow bite. “Which one was it? Ones? Things.”

“A mansion in Southern France. Marseille, I think. Two more in Italy and another in Northern France.” Hadrian says. “I’m not discouraging you from a blood curse. I’m not encouraging you to let this go. In fact, I say obliterate them. Jay would agree. But I think you should make this decision when you’re not inebriated and when there isn’t a bird waiting for you.”

Sirius chokes, shocked. “Oh, dude. He hatched?!”

A melodious sound rings through the air in response, followed by the heavy flap of wings and Umbra appears, regal and intimidating. Sirius has seen Dumbledore’s phoenix, nearly everyone summoned to his office had, but Umbra is so distinctly different that it’s almost alarming. While Fawkes seemed to be made of fire itself, Umbra is a sleek midnight blue with bursts of vibrant cerulean feathers interwoven on his deep chest and underwings. His eyes are a wild magenta color.

“Holy shit.” Sirius whispers, transfixed, and Hadrian makes a noise of agreement. “No wonder your egg was fancy. You’re fucking magnificent!”

All these pretty birds!

Umbra seems incredibly pleased by Sirius’ words, trilling softly as he slowly circles them before gently landing on Sirius’ shoulder, his long neck stretching to regard Sirius then Hadrian closely. Sirius rubs his chest, earning a quiet coo. Wow, he’s so soft!

“Shit. I need to go grocery shopping. Thought I had two more days.” Hadrian mutters, waving his hand to bring up a massive list of… well, Sirius doesn’t know what it is but it's intimidating. Hadrian rubs his chin. “Phoenixes are normally herbivores but your beak is a bit off. Omnivore?”

Umbra trills again. 

Hadrian nods. “I can work with that.”

“You don’t have to feed everyone.” Sirius says. “I can feed my bird. And my horse.”

Hadrian sends him a pitying look. “Like you feed yourself?”

Alright, alright, Sirius thinks, chastised. He pouts, earning a smug look.

“I don’t mind taking care of what’s mine.” Hadrian says, adding a few lines to his list. “Oh, you like dragon fruit, right? I think we should diversify your breakfast more since you don’t eat heavy in the morning. You’re allergic to kiwis so let’s get that out of here..”

How did Hadrian know that? Oh. This is the second time Sirius has heard him say such things. He sways a bit in his seat, his mouth moving before his brain can catch up. “Oh, uhm, I am. Dragon fruit is.. Wait. I’m… I’m a part of that? What’s yours?”

“Oh, yes. Can’t let you go now.” Hadrian says cheerfully. 

Sirius swallows the lump in his throat, pleased. “Why are you so nice to me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hadrian counters, chin propped on his hand. He turns to Sirius, gaze soft.

“Haven’t I bothered you enough?” Sirius asks before he can stop himself.

Hadrian smiles. It's so sweet. Gentle. “Is that what you think? That I’m bothered?”

Sirius blinks, moved. Wasn’t he?

Hadrian reaches out to tap Sirius lightly on the forehead. “Idiot.”

Notes:

Sweet cool wild, we here. Ugh, I KNOW I said slow burn but gah, I cannot do agonizing, its just not who I am as a person. I also wanted some eyelash batting, cheeky shit so hopefully it is appreciated ^^

I also considered not having this chapter at all but like, needed some Siri suffering and the flirting and notably a Remus.

Ok, ok, we will see Sev in the chapter after next. He is serving and Sirius is suffering ™(fondly)

Chapter 10: You and Your Devil

Summary:

The fruits of labor.

Notes:

Tws, violence that comes with dueling, self harm? (Crowe stores his wand inside him), injury, facial breakage that triggers some bad times (Walburga), blood, references to potentially toxic relationships, threats of violence

- Hugin, your unfriendly neighborhood birb
- Sirius & his love of being in a Potter's arms
- Sirius "oh no" le Fay vs Roderick "oh YES" Crowe
- some Crowe backstory :3c
- Hadrian the Mother ™
- Sirius Designated Gryffindor Pretty Boy

(ok but lbr, in canon Harry says that Sirius is the most handsome man he had ever seen. You can NOT tell me Sirius Black was not fine! as! fuck! in his prime and aged like fine fucking wine bark bark barkbarkbarkbark)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“You ready for your trial run next week?” Hadrian grins, kneeling over Sirius, who is, once again, sprawled out on the ground. His chest heaves, eyes bright and crazed and while Sirius is happy to have caused such an expression, he would like to be able to cause it while not having the wind knocked out of him via magic or physically. Sirius manages to lift his hand into a thumbs up, panting harshly. He can feel Hugin shifting around inside him, resetting his ribs and the fracture in his wrist. The sharp pain finally eases. Sirius slumps in relief, sweat stinging his eyes. Thank you, he thinks.

“Perfect. Hugin’s gotten better at fixing your mistakes.” Hadrian hums, smoothly rising to his feet.

Sirius glares weakly at him. “You’re fucking wand happy. How is this my fault?”

“The people we hunt are much worse, I assure you.” Hadrian says happily. “I’m so nice. Ready to get up or are you going to start crying?”

“Am I not crying now?” Sirius asks, thrown and still very much winded. He certainly thought he was. Shit fucking hurt.

“No, because then I’d be upset.” Hadrian states bluntly, dragging Sirius up by his arm. The world spins sharply. Sirius’ legs buckle almost immediately and he is gathered in Hadrian’s arms before he can blink. Sirius sags against him with a low whine. “Aww, little sweetheart has some magical exhaustion. Gotta work on your stamina since you got your internal battles and all that shit.”

“Or you could go easy on me.” Sirius slurs, dizzy, forehead pressed into Hadrian’s shoulder. Wow, he is simply so warm and firm.

“Why would I do that when you’re doing so well? I am so pleased with you, Riri.” Hadrian says and Sirius feels his entire body flush. Fucking shit, Sirius thinks drowsily. He is delighted with Hadrian’s words but there was such a fine line between using his magic and balancing Hugin’s murderous response when it felt like Sirius was in danger but he had improved in that regard, especially with Elias’ help in recognizing magical signatures during duels. Hugin was slowly acknowledging Hadrian as a necessary evil instead of a put-it-down-now threat. Sirius had to correct less now. There was also the shadow box work, which was frustrating for them both because Sirius would argue back against himself instead of trusting magic to do what he needed. It was… just work.

So, so much work.

Sirius breathes, focusing on the slow churn of his magic building inside him. He feels Hugin rooting around inside him, questioning and a bit panicked. Dizzy, Sirius thinks and his magic curls along his temples soothingly. The migraine trying to build in the base of his skull quiets and fades. Sirius sags, relieved.

“More rooting?” Hadrian asks.

“I think he’s trying to fix it.” Sirius responds quietly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Hadrian says, holding him firm. While this situation is incredibly embarrassing and terrible, Sirius does love being tucked into a Potter’s arms. They always smell so good, always so warm. His cheeks burn. Oh shit, how embarrassing, Sirius thinks realizing he is, in fact, in Big Potter’s arms and this is a truly regrettable situation he finds himself in even if Hadrian smells incredible. 

There is a spark inside him and oh, that’s incredible, this feeling of elation, of melding and resetting like a ticking clock and Sirius manages to lift his head, staggering away from Hadrian, who lets him go with a critical gaze. Sirius shakes himself out, tugging at his magic and it thrums readily in response. He nods and Hadrian grins in sharp satisfaction.

“How’s he feeling?”

“Better.” Sirius frowns. “Pleased, maybe?”

“Probably because you trusted him to handle it.” Hadrian says thoughtfully. “Your recovery time is phenomenal. You keep surprising me.”

“Definitely all him.” Sirius laughs, lifting his shirt to wipe at his face. He manages to catch Hadrian’s lingering gaze as he fixes himself but it's gone so fast Sirius thinks he just imagined it. Sirius swallows thickly. Hadrian sends him a lazy grin. 

“What is it you say? Reframe? Reframe.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Fine. All me but hell, dude does a lot of work.”

“That he does-”

“Potter, do you have,” Crowe’s head pokes into the training room. His expression brightens. “le Fay. Search for the devil and he shall appear. I’ve heard some interesting shit about you recently.”

Sirius blinks. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.”

“The music of the guilty.” Crowe grins, striding into the room. He’s in a comical, tight tank top with fat, little bunnies on it and pale pink sweatpants that say ‘Yes, girl’ on the pockets. Seriously, who was this man? Crowe settles his hands on his hips, looking Sirius up and down and nods in approval before turning to Hadrian. “What do you think? Can he take me? My lady is sick of my shit. I might be impatient.”

Sirius balks. God, no, please. He would simply die.

“Might be? You’ve been frothing since I got my hands on him. You’ve read my notes and Warrington’s.” Hadrian shifts his weight, licking his lips. He tilts his head. “Ehh. Mm, tough question as it's more like can you take what he’s got to offer.”

Crowe’s eyebrows raise slowly, a heavy mania settling over his features. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” Hadrian smirks, sharp. 

“Alright.” Crowe’s head snaps to Sirius, who shrinks under that vibrant excitement. “You busy?”

Shit, Sirius guesses he fucking isn’t. He supposes he was going to get his ass handed to him regardless. Sirius manages to shake his head, index finger tapping anxiously against his palm. This would happen sooner or later. Crowe had given his tenured members so much leeway with Sirius that naturally he’d want to see what they’ve done so far. Hadrian steps back until he’s out of the way, hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He winks at Sirius.

“Don’t hold back. Let it work.” Hadrian reminds him. “Crowe can take more damage than I can.”

Crowe rolls his neck with a sickening crack. “Sure can. Fight me like you’re about to die.”

Heaven’s help him. Sirius steels himself. Ok, fine. The situation is here, it’s happening. No use fucking crying about it like some sullen child. He wasn’t Regulus. Crowe claps his hands together, rubbing his palms slowly before dragging his hands open to reveal his wand that surges from within his skin. Holy shit, Sirius thinks wildly. The wound heals easily and Crowe flips his wand between his fingers like it's a knife instead of an extension of magic. Crowe stands tall and imposing, eyes bright with a heady flash of amber. 

Sirius can practically feel his own magic respond to the threat, dark energy thrumming through him, sparking and waiting and Crowe grins widely. He’s gone when Sirius blinks. A flash of brown skin is in his peripheral. Shit, right side, he thinks, catching the whirr of a red hot spell and snaps his wand in response, all blistering electricity that sucks it sharply inside and spits it back readily. The floor beneath them trembles slightly, a thick wave of pressure following and Sirius watches the pull warp the trajectory of Sirius’ counter shot and disperses.

Sirius doesn’t know what to think, immediately on the defensive because Crowe is moving, surging forward with a harsh pull of gravity itself that forces Sirius to brace himself as the air feels heavier around them. A slicing curse is hurled his way, unbothered by the pull, and Sirius has to force his body to move against the heavy strain. He feels himself getting frustrated with himself, with this situation because god, he’s still so helpless. New house, new, ancient magic and Sirius was fucking useless.

Reframe, Sirius thinks sharply. It's new. Feel it. He feels his magic surge violently in response. Feel it, he demands at himself. That kaw responds loudly deep in his being, followed by a terrible, horrendous snarl. The lights above them flicker and tremble. Of us, Sirius thinks, feeling that gravitational pull press harder. His breathing grows labored and weighted and Sirius shoves hard against it, feels a crack within himself and Crowe whistles, firing hex after hex with deadly precision that Sirius deflects and catches and shoots back. 

One catches him hard across the face, fracturing his upper jaw, his nose, with an ugly set of pops and Sirius is in the dining room at Grimmauld again, Walburga before him with her wand drawn and his own blood splattered across her face. He shakes himself out, vibrant fury builds hot and sharp inside him and Walburga is gone but Crowe remains, visible delight spreading across his face, as Sirius feels his bones snap and meld back into place, magic whirling in murderous offense and Sirius chases that feeling, feels it soar beyond him like a bolt of light across a darkening sky, feathered tendrils spewing from the shadows in the corner, from Hadrian’s, from Crowe’s and Sirius absorbs it all before it bursts forth like a calamity, like desolation unbothered by that pull, unbothered by it all.

Crowe’s eyes widen, managing a shield but Sirius’ magic just crashes hard into it. It drips across the surface, bubbling and dwindling at it like hands thundering against a steel door until it dents and ruptures. Crowe twists out the way gracefully at the last second, watching as his shield slams and splinters into the stone wall with a sickening finality, magic bubbling around it until it dissolves with a strange, grotesque squish. Sirius sways, bracing himself on his knees, winded and aching. The tips of black feathers slowly recede back into his skin.

“No wand.” Crowe says quietly.

“Mhm.” Hadrian agrees, smug. 

Sirius doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about but does notice his wand a good distance away from him. Shit, was I disarmed, he thinks. Sirius hadn’t even noticed. Roderick Crowe best of the fucking best. Of course, Sirius didn’t fucking notice beyond whatever weird, mysterious shit Crowe has going on. He rubs his face tiredly, straightening back up, and grimaces upon seeing the blood smeared along his skin. Sirius rubs his hands together, vanishing it. Crowe turns towards him, assessing, and Sirius feels his magic surge violently in response. Wait, Sirius urges, feeling it coil back inside him. We’re done. You did so good. We did good.

His magic preens in satisfaction. 

“You see that?” Crowe asks Hadrian, awed.

“Mhm. Told you we were working on it.” Hadrian responds, voice full of pleased glee.

“Fucking incredible.” Crowe says excitedly. “Wait until a year from now, le Fay. You’ll be fucking scary. You’re scary now! Tennison is going to shit himself and I’m gonna rub it in every fucking Tuesday.”

Sirius nearly faints, happy with the approval. “Your magic. Is it lunar based?”

Crowe’s gaze turns critical. 

Sirius realizes how offensive that might’ve come out so he does what always does in these situations, keeps talking because fortune does often favor the bold and the fucking stupid. “It’s fucking incredible. I thought I was going to die. You could probably suck all the oxygen out of a room!”

Crowe flushes in dark pleasure. “Who needs poison when you’ve got air and gravity?”

Sirius blinks, awed. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s effective.” Hadrian sniffs. “Easier to frame as a heart attack. Just gotta find that fine line.”

“Your scary imagery seems to be enough.” Crowe chirps, pushing his wand between his hands with a sickening noise. It disappears. 

Hadrian sends him a withering look. “I’m simply saying that you’ve got that shit easy and down to a science.”

Crowe puffs his chest. “Of course, I love cardiology. Why do you think I went to Med school?”

“To become a murderer clearly.” Hadrian deadpans.  

Crowe doesn’t argue, shrugging with an impish grin. “Just cause.”

Sirius blinks, still awed. “You went to Med school?”

“Hell yes. My father’s a muggle. A surgeon. Always on about education this, education that.” Crowe sniffs. “Had just started my residency when life intervened so here I am. Certainly just as challenging, which is great cause I get bored easily like Potter here.”

“I’m having a great time.” Hadrian sniffs. “I have a brand new toy and everything to occupy me until you decide to let go of my leash.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Crowe asks sweetly and Hadrian flicks him off with a biting smile.

“Oh, is that me?” Sirius asks, dumb. He is learning so many things today. 

Crowe simpers. He leers at Hadrian. “Is it?”

“Go be anywhere else, Captain.” Hadrian dismisses. “Or you will not be able to find your keys or the questionable creature Thorncroft has placed in your office.”

Crowe gapes, thunderous. The room trembles. “Again?!”

Sirius has not met Benjamin Thorncroft yet despite him being very present in the HIT department but he typically kept to the labs deep underground and often left strange “gifts” in Crowe’s office, according to Dorcas, for field approval. The most recent was a manticore-like creature that could speak french. Sirius had found the giant thing charming if not unnerving and creepy. Hadrian sends Crowe an innocent look, blinking, and Crowe throws up his hands, sending Hadrian a threatening finger and Sirius a stern thumbs up before storming out of the room. Sirius watches him go, afraid for whatever chastising Thorncroft was about to receive. His stomach grumbles.

Hadrian rolls his eyes. “Let’s go see Jaime, yeah? He has been begging me to let him join you for lunch. Feel like you both need a reward.”

Sirius perks up, summoning his wand and tucking it away. “How does Crowe hide his wand in his palm?”

Hadrian shudders, disgusted. “Exactly how you think. Mangy dog. I already know you know.”

“About Crowe?”

“Mhm.” Hadrian says, stepping up to Sirius. He waves a hand over his face and Sirius feels his skin clear. “You are just a mess, little thing. Hugin fix your shit?”

Sirius nods, feeling a flutter in his stomach. “Yeah.”

“You froze for a second there.”

Sirius flushes, embarrassed. “Just remembered some shit I didn’t want too. It’s fine. It’s done.”

Hadrian flicks him softly on the forehead. “Idiot. Let’s get you fed.”

Sirius trails after Hadrian, peeking inside other training rooms as they pass to see duels or various recruits doing additional physical exercises. A few linger in the hallway, chatting tiredly to one another and nursing various injuries or practicing simple spells. They notably do not take the normal way to the Auror department, instead ducking down a long, dark hallway with a singular plain door at the end. 

“Y’all eating?” Barty’s voice rings out. 

Hadrian sighs deeply, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t you have paperwork?”

“I need my strength for so many words. Whatcha make today?” Barty sighs as well, wandering towards them. He slings an arm around Sirius’ shoulder when he’s close enough, leaning into him. Sirius slides an arm around him.

“Does your wife not feed you?” Hadrian asks, lips twitching into a semblance of a smile.

“I ate it already. I am a growing boy.” Barty pouts. 

“Lovegood, I swear to christ if you don’t have that report on my desk, you’ll be fucking next once I’m done with Thorncroft.” Crowe calls threateningly down the hall and Barty stiffens comically. He straightens, scampering back the way he came like a fiend. A sharp thwack could be heard when he reached Crowe. Hadrian snorts, amused, grasping Sirius’ wrist to tug him along. Sirius is glad that the lighting here is weird because his face is on fire. Sirius idly wonders what it would be like to hold his hand, if he even holds hands. Remus didn’t, hardly hugged unless they were having sex. Sirius’ mouth twists at the thought. There were so many signs.

He just ignored them all.

Hadrian flicks his forehead again. Sirius blinks, looking up at him and turns away from that knowing gaze. He swallows, managing a nod and allows Hadrian to guide him the rest of the way. Sirius knows there is no use dwelling on the what ifs, the regrets, because they had already happened. Sirius notices Frank draped over a couch of what appears to be a lounge, snoring softly, with James scribbling furiously in a notebook. He glances up, looks down, then snaps up again so fast Sirius is sure he heard his neck crack.

“My two favorite people!” James greets happily. “Wow, what great timing. I am literally on-”

He cuts off, eyes darting to where Hadrian’s hand is still curled around Sirius’ wrist. James leers. Sirius pointedly ignores him, staring at a corner of the room where there is a peculiar swirl pattern. Hadrian snorts, letting Sirius go, which he does not pout at. Focus, Sirius thinks haphazardly. What the fuck was he even doing? Sure, let’s ruin another family with your fuck ups, Sirius thinks. The Potters had been nothing but supportive and kind and generous to him. Maybe he does need to get laid. Clinging to affection like some stupid dog-

Hadrian flicks him on the forehead. “Sit. Be stupid later.”

Sirius sits across from James, who appears worried now. He musters a smile. “I’m just hangry.”

“When did you eat last?” James asks, tucking his notebook away.

Sirius looks at Hadrian, who sighs, aggrieved. “Heaven’s help me. At 6. Made him eat a snack at 12.”

“Sirius, it’s almost fucking 5!” James admonishes. 

Sirius wilts. “Ok, ok. I will set more reminders.”

“Liar.” Hadrian sniffs, setting an incredibly tiny box on the table. He waves a lazy hand over it and expands into a huge set of neatly wrapped, delicious smelling food. Hadrian glares threateningly at James. “You will eat this damn salad in its entirety even if I have to cut open your fucking stomach and feed it to your intestines myself.”

James whimpers. “Oh man. Yes, sir.”

Hadrian rears on Sirius, who raises his hands and nods rapidly before he can be chastised. His eyes narrow dangerously so Sirius just nods some more, cowed, even if his insides twist excitedly. Wrong time, wrong time, Sirius thinks sharply. There is a series of tiny barks that comes from James’ bag. James sends Hadrian a glower.

“You leave my man alone.” He says sternly. 

Jesus, Sirius needs to burn that damn dog creation. Hadrian slowly lifts an eyebrow in response.

“He’s been bullying me all day. Beat your brother up.” Sirius sniffs because damn, Hadrian really has put through the ringer. His shoulders ache. He didn’t even know shoulders could ache.

James immediately seems frightened. “Can.. Can I beat up Barty instead? Or, like, anyone else?” He whispers loudly, bracing himself against the table. “Hadrian is scary. And tall. And… And he won’t make me pigs in a blanket anymore.”

“Is that what your loyalty costs?” Sirius shakes his fist at him. “Mediocre cravings? Over me? The love of your life before Lily Evans? Your other half? Your dog?”

James sniffles pathetically. “Oh man. He’s gonna beat my ass. You have to take care of me after.”

“I will.” Sirius promises solemnly. 

“Do you want your ass whooping now or later?” Hadrian asks cheerfully. “I will fight for ownership at this point.” 

Sirius’ stomach flips. 

James gapes, furious. “Wha- He was mine first!”

Sirius is just experiencing many delightful emotions today.

“Oh, Jay,” Hadrian leans against the table, arms crossed, expression dark and dangerous. “You either split custody or we have a problem. That’s the rules.”

James glares at him, meeting his brother’s stare head on. Then narrows his eyes. His jaw twitches. James sits back in his seat, slowly lifting an eyebrow. Hadrian blinks at him, lifting his chin. James tilts his head, brow furrowing slightly. Hadrian smirks. James gasps, evidently delighted and giddy. Sirius doesn’t know what’s happening here but it is interesting to see them communicate with barely any changes to their facial expressions. He wonders if this is what dogs feel like when they’ve done something bad and their owner raises an eyebrow at them. It's certainly how Sirius feels when James catches Padfoot digging holes during non-digging hole hours. 

“Shit, the Potters are being weird again.” Frank’s voice slurs out. “Oh. Siri! Is that you?”

Sirius turns to him, lifting his hand in greeting, and Frank chokes. “Hi, Frankie.”

“Wow! I mean, I saw the Prophet about your lordship but you look fantastic!” Frank clambors into a sitting position, eyes starry as they move erratically over Sirius’ face. “Alice is going to lose her shit.”

“Hey. Hey. Fix your eyes, Frank.” James hisses.

Frank raspberries. “Pfft, you know everyone in that dorm needed someone to look at. Sirius was that. Disownment clearly did the world a favor because, I mean, he was fine before but wow, look at him, fucking stunning-”

“Longbottom,” Hadrian starts, slowly tilting his head towards him. “Fix. Your. Eyes.”

Frank looks to a corner, saluting. “Yessir.”

Notes:

So! Crowe is, like, 35 sooo going based off when my cousin started her residency, he started at 30 so he's only been a werewolf for 5 years :3c and instead of being devastated, he said "lesss gooooo". He also steals his wife's clothes because he likes smelling like his kween. We stan a man who loves his wife, banging pots and pans.

So I guess you can put into perspective how potentially scary this man is to have derived from being a med student to second best in the wizarding world in the world in a matter of years. Lowkey also makes me wonder what his mother is like. I love, love, loooove scary women. Can you tell?

Anywhoooo. <3

Chapter 11: Vecna

Summary:

A dungeon bat visits a dog.

Notes:

No TWs I believe but shootin' the shit

- Severus "Enough of your shit" Snape vs Sirius "No, it is nap time" le Fay
- Progression
- Umbra lore
- le Fay/Morvain lore drops
- Severus "Why do you keep such terrible company"
- Discussions of a mother's murderous temper
- Snape & Potter vs le Fay (its bullying, hes fine)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Get up, you degenerate.” Snape hisses. “You are not lazy. I know you were outside early this morning, running around like some lovesick woman or worse, that mongrel you strut about as.”

Sirius glares weakly at him because what the fuck and who the fuck let this bastard in this house and what the fuck was this third degree. What does a dog have to do to take a nap around here? Lastly, Sirius does not strut. If anyone did, it was fucking James Potter. Sirius is not avoiding being alive but he is avoiding being awake. He is exhausted and tired and on his literal last leg. 

“Who the fuck let you in?” Sirius bitches, pushing his face back into his pillow. He feels a gust of magic and his blanket is snatched from him. Sirius whimpers, a bit like a dog. He forces himself upright, mustering a sneer that is promptly knocked off his face when he notices the citrine bracelet adorning Snape’s wrist that he had gotten him as a ‘fuck you’ birthday gift. Sirius grins, smug, and Snape blisters in offense.

“Aww, Sev.” Sirius says sweetly.

“Be silent.” He snarls. “Get up. Show me this bird of yours immediately.”

“You came all this way just to see my pretty bird?” Sirius pouts.

Snape sends him a furious look, cheeks pinking. “I will render you to bird feed.”

“Ooh, so scary. Don’t want that.” Sirius gives him a lazy salute, rising to his feet. He pushes his window open, whistling a brief, short tune. Sirius wasn’t a big fan of keeping his bird caged up or whatever and essentially told Umbra he could come and go as he pleased. Umbra seemed happy with this arrangement but would still ask for permission before darting off somewhere. Sirius’ ears pick up the responding call but it sounds decently far away, which likely meant Umbra was off hunting some poor creature. He turns back to Snape, who is studying his room with quiet pleasure. Snape turns back to him, sneering.

“This is better than that desolate flat of yours or worse, that hideous couch at Lupin’s. It is a miracle you even slept there considering how many bugs I have seen crawling outside.”

“You’re so mean to me. I loved that couch.” Sirius laughs. “It was hideous but it also meant no one would steal it. Remus lived in the worst part of town.”

And soundly refused Sirius’ attempts to get him to move. Guess there was a reason for that.

Snape pulls a face, gaze critical. “You appear better.”

“I told you I was alive.” Sirius replies, a bit thrilled that Severus Snape continues to give a fuck about him. 

Snape flicks his fingers. “Your definition of survival needs work. Had- Potter Sr said your bird is an omnivore.”

Sirius nods, leaning against the open window. “Yeah. He’s unusual looking too. You’ll be shook.”

“I will not -” Snape’s voice dies in his throat, eyes wide with awe. Sirius feels Umbra’s talons gently settle on his shoulder, the soft nip of greeting at his ear and rubs his chest in response. Sirius sends Snape a smug look.

“See? Shook.”

Snape bristles. “Well. Yes. How dare you not inform me you have a lightning phoenix! Do you understand how rare such a species is? The last known hatchling was in Zhejiang nearly 200 years ago.”

Umbra trills. He feels smug. 

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Is that you?” Sirius asks.

Umbra flicks his wings. 

Snape gapes. “Sirius le Fay.”

“I didn’t think to ask! It seemed rude!” Sirius argues heatedly. “Umbra just hatched again, hell. I’m not about to harass this older man! I do respect my elders to a certain degree. That seems rude as fuck to ask all these questions.”

“You harass everyone else!” Snape bitches.

“How dare you say these lies!” Sirius snips, knowing full well it's the damn truth. “Maybe if you’re nice to me, he’ll give you a feather.” 

Snape straightens, cheeks red. “I would never ask such a thing.”

“Do you hear his lies, Umbra? They are filthy and terrible.” Sirius scoffs. “He’s a Potions Master.”

Snape sputters. He clears his throat sharply. “Not yet.”

Sirius sends him a look. “Please. We both know you’re, like, two cauldrons away from being hot shit.”

Snape seems pleased. Umbra kaks, which is unnerving, but he supports bird rights. Umbra lifts his large head, preening at his wings before procuring two pretty feathers. He stretches his head towards Snape, who startles and takes them with a deep, grateful bow. What a fucking loser, Sirius thinks fondly. Snape sends him a withering glare, tucking the feathers away, as if he heard his thoughts, which maybe he did. Snape’s always been good at that shit which is how Sirius became better at occlumency. It was easier to work on shields when you didn’t have someone essentially bludgeoning your mind from the inside like Walburga would do. Snape was kittenish in comparison.

“Planning some outrageous potioning, Sev?” Sirius bats his eyelashes. “Shit, speaking of. I read your article. Fucking fantastic. I never considered using acromantula venom as a bonding acid for muggle hunting traps or that you could also use it for additional webbing properties in wards. Which I will be trying out.”

Snape flushes with pleasure, chest puffing. “Silence. You don’t even hunt.”

“Well, now, I don’t need to. There goes all the work.” Sirius says serenely. “How is the internship going? I haven’t seen anyone else publicizing articles so clearly you must be a little swot.”

Snape sniffs. “I am simply applying my learnings in ways the common folks can understand.”

“Sure you don’t want to be a teacher?” Sirius asks, knowing full well Snape would rather die.

“I’d rather die.” Snape mutters. He hesitates. “I apologize for not arriving sooner. My curriculum has been hectic.”

Sirius waves him off. “It's whatever. Oh, while you’re here, check this out.”

Sirius has been practicing outside of work. His magic liked to work in a way it never had before and Alaric was certainly right when he said le Fays did more beyond bickering in the Wizengamot because Hugin was a demanding shit. It made him curious as to what his ancestors were like to create such a thing. Sirius also found it endearing like his magic was trying to show him how useful could be even if it was… very murdery. 

He weaves his hands together, feeding wisps of magic between his palms that sparks and pulses and a mini Hugin appears, eerie and misty, his dark eyes flickering around the room. Umbra dips his head with a low, curious noise and Hugin turns to him sharply, puffed and displeased. Sirius strokes his fat head reassuringly, earning a pleased kak. Hugin settles in his palm, translucent feathers smoothing back down, and allows Umbra to study him with no additional complaints. Snape blinks, stares hard, then blinks again.

“Sirius le Fay.” Snape demands. 

Sirius blinks, innocent. “This Hugin. He’s a stream of magic that lives in the le Fay line, created through blood magic. A little amplifier with his own opinions.”

Hugin kaws in agreement. 

Snape procures a notebook seemingly out of nowhere. He scribbles furiously in it. “Extraordinary.” Snape pauses. “You said he …Has the magic become sentient?”

“Yep.” Sirius chirps.

“Incredible.” Snape hisses, writing faster. 

“Oh, another thing.” Sirius laughs, shifting his appearance to mimic Snape's, clothing and all.

Snape’s notebook tumbles out of his hand, visibly startled which is grand because it was hard to surprise Snape beyond doing, god, friendly gestures. Sirius shifts back with a grin. “I have been busy. Wowza.”

Snape sits on the edge of Sirius’ bed, awed. His gaze flickers to Hugin then back to Sirius and frowns deeply. “A direct correlation that comes from blood magic. Your line created a symbiotic relationship with their own magic thus creating a split that has become something more. This, he, cannot live without you and vice versa?”

“Yup.” Wow, Snape was so smart, no wonder Sirius had to work to get 3rd.

Snape blinks. “Why would they do such a thing?”

Sirius shrugs. “Don’t know. Mom said he’s just always been around. Apparently cursed us cause he was big mad or whatever because some of us didn’t want to be a vessel. I mean, it makes sense. No us without him, no him without us. However, if I die, Hugin will go with me.”

Hugin makes a sharp, displeased noise.

“He was upset with me.” Sirius rubs Hugin’s head in apology. “I had a block on my core that, I guess, kept him locked up. So when I got disowned, it broke and now he’s here. We’re getting better. I think we both have abandonment issues or something so we’re building trust and all that shit.”

Hugin feels pleased by Sirius’ affirmations. 

“A block? On your core?” Snape bristles. “You took my 3rd spot with a block on your core!”

“Oh, yes.” Sirius says happily. “Aren’t you glad we’re besties now, Sev? Clearly I am hot shit, boyo.”

“Be silent.” Snape hisses, snatching his notebook from the floor. He does not deny that they are friends, which is precious, but Sirius reframes from teasing because Snape is looking murderous and is more quick in turning people into mice than Sirius is. Sirius makes a zipping motion, grinning, and Snape glowers at him. Sirius presses a soft kiss to Hugin’s head. You can go rest, he thinks and Hugin dismisses himself in a gentle flurry of magic. He seemed to really enjoy forehead kisses, little bastard.

“You can go back to murdering.” Sirius tells Umbra, who trills happily before careening out the window. So many strange birds in his life.

“What else has happened?” Snape asks, frowning heavily. “Your magic feels different beyond Hugin.”

“How much time do you have?” Sirius laughs.

“I may have cleared my schedule for this.” Snape sniffs. “You will feed me.”

“Awww, Sev. You know I feed you whenever you visit.” Because he did, every time. Snape’s eating habits were worse than his and while Sirius’ care override disregards himself, it does not disregard others aside from Hadrian, who just so efficiently beats him to the punch. Sirius feels a bit weepy. He didn’t deserve all these people. Snape glares at him.

Sirius grins, beckoning Snape to follow him to the lofted area of his room. It's currently a bit chaotic because Sirius has always been a messy study in general. It was a miracle he remembered where anything was. The tomes Isolde had given him are haphazardly stacked on a smooth, marble table, one of them opened with a series of dog shaped sticky notes decorating the pages, courtesy of James. Sirius also made a large board to contain all the family connections and bullshit while also plugging in where Hugin seemed to become incredibly pissed with the le Fays. He is surprised that the le Fays lasted as long as they did because the magic was on a spree.

The tomes were helpful in understanding Hugin, his demands, how he thrived on autonomy but James and Hadrian had been wonderful to ping pong speculations to. Hadrian also started giving Sirius fucking homework like he was a baby but at least, now he could give Hugin a corporeal form, which his magic seemed to enjoy thoroughly. Sirius was still having issues with allowing Hugin do what he needed to do but ugh, it was so hard. 

Sirius is used to being brash, volatile perhaps but his magic had never been so quick to put someone into the ground before he could barely muster a sneer. 

“Why are you meeting Carrow at the end of this month?” Snape asks, studying the board with visible curiosity.

Sirius snorts, stretching. “Cause he’s my grandfather.”

Snape’s eyes bulge. “Why is it that every word out of your mouth today has aged me?”

“You look great for 47.” Sirius says, awed.

Snape flicks him off. Wow, they’ve truly influenced each other. Sirius clears off his arm chairs with a lazy flick of his hand, relishing in the suspicious look Snape sends him. Sirius plops down in one, gesturing for Snape to join him. 

“My mother is Isolde le Fay. Her alias was Yusura Morvain.”

“Yusura- You lie.” Snape sneers, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I thought you might be disbelieving.” Sirius chirps, handing Snape his inheritance test copy and the additional verification test. He watches Snape read thoroughly, expression shifting minutely at certain parts either with curiosity or heavy anger. Snape gently places the parchments aside, sitting back in his seat with one leg crossed over the other. He opens his mouth then closes it, tapping his index finger against his knee. Sirius waits him out.

“Did Regulus know about this?” Snape asks lowly.

“Don’t think so. He was pretty pissed when I announced my seat.” Sirius shrugs. “Walburga knew because she married my dad. Hmm, I wonder if that’s why she was so obsessive.”

Snape turns the paper over. “The Magical Leech broke upon your disownment. I imagine she was upset with Black after finding out. She would’ve felt the break. You are aware that the Eastern Coven are vampires, correct?”

“Yessir.” Sirius chirps.

“You keep abysmal company so I shouldn’t be surprised your family is similar.” Snape curls his lip. “What is an Ungor?”

“A giant.”

“Do not speak for a moment.” Snape demands hotly, appearing overwhelmed. He seems to take back his words immediately because, alas, more questions. “What could your family have possibly done to earn so many life debts including one from the house of Slytherin?”

Sirius shrugs. “Alaric didn’t know the full details. He just has guesses but he thinks it has something to do with some bitching Salazar did. Guess he fucked around where he shouldn’t and begged for their favor. Oh, do you know how a portrait would be able to enact vengeance if said witch is dead? She’s leveled quite a few houses recently.”

“How terrifying.” Snape blinks. “I have never heard of such a thing. Your mother, I assume?”

Sirius nods.

Snape makes a thoughtful noise. “I suppose it could be done. Consider your lineage for a moment, their alias specifically. I know little about the le Fays but the Morvain’s are a different story. I am surprised no one put two and two together prior because the Morvain’s have also been heavy dabblers in forbidden magic and blood magic. Your mother created a ward trap with blood magic. I would not be surprised if she had additional ways of being meddlesome in death, especially when Hilde Morvain was known to bind people into pictures and statues in the early 12th century simply because they displeased her.”

Sirius blinks. “That’s scary.”

“Archaic.” Snape flicks his fingers. “Effective, however, the portraits are now in the British Museum in the superstition section. At night, you can apparently hear the wailing of those trapped. We should visit. I will be available in October. Send me your schedule if there are changes.”

“Alright.” Sirius snorts, amused. 

Snape sniffs. “I fear for Lupin and Black when you stop sulking.”

Sirius pulls a face. “I’m not fucking sulking.”

Ok, he was but hell, he just needed a moment to decide what he wanted to do. Sirius doesn’t even know if they’re still together but he could strongly see Remus clinging to Regulus despite everything because of how much he effectively exploded his own life even if he wasn’t complicit in the final fallout. Regulus would probably keep Remus around to see if he could get more information on Sirius through their friends. Regulus also had seemed… attached in that moment before his disownment, how he was only placated by Remus kissing him.

Sirius was just a means to an end for them both. 

“I think she added her magic to my own. There was, like, this vial. Actually, I can just show you.”

Snape levels him with a look. “If you think I will willingly go into your mind after you trapped me in there to watch that asinine Disney movie, you are mistaken.”

“I solemnly swear I will not trap you in my mind again.” Sirius huffs. “Plus you loved the Fox and the Hound. You even cried.”

“I did no such thing.” Snape spits. 

“Liar.” Sirius says sweetly, meeting Snape’s stare head on and lowers his shields. He directs Snape to the specific memory of Isolde, her sweet smile, her fury and that eerie vial nestled in that box. It was telling how much their relationship had changed if Sirius was willing to let Severus Snape into his mind. 12 year old him would be scandalized. 

Snape strokes his chin thoughtfully when they’re done. He deadpans, “I now understand your temper. Your mother is not much different from the rumors of Orion Black.”

“Right? She’s, like, I don’t know, feral. So scary.” Sirius slumps in his seat. “Well, at least, we’re hot. Can’t imagine having a shitty attitude and being ugly. Would hate to be Parkinson or worse Avery.”

Snape sends him a withering look. “You have made your stance known.”

“I’m just saying you could do better. Dude’s a cunt.” Sirius sniffs. “Especially now that you’ve started following the regime I sent you. Your hair looks fantastic as does your skin. I told you potion fumes affect follicles and pores but no, you wanted to bitch and bitch. Oh, did you get the silk pillowcases?”

“I did.” Snape pinches the bridge of his nose, suffering. “Yes, well. I was unaware of the long term effects. I do believe your mother left some of her essence with you. However, I do find your magic more unnerving.”

“She says he doesn’t settle.” Sirius shrugs. “I’m having less nightmares now though because he’ll just pluck me out of ‘em if it gets too bad.” 

Snape frowns heavily. “Does this wake you?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Nah. It’s like Hugin just shifts my mind into something nicer. He can create these mindscapes in my dreams and we’ll, like, walk around and stuff. Sometimes we just look at the stars together until I wake up. I’m teaching him about the constellations. We’re on Andromeda currently.”

“May…” Snape frowns deeply. “Mm. This is very personal. I am curious but I understand you may not want to show these things.”

Sirius laughs. “You’ve seen the worst of my mind. I’ve seen the worst of yours and your cunt of a father. I don’t mind. Its fucking incredible. You may come back covered in feathers. I will not apologize.”

Snape’s mouth twitches, amused. “Fine.”

Sirius reaches for Snape’s hand, who takes it, then grabs at his magic, and feels it, dropping into that empty nothing. He waits for Snape to straighten beside him, summoning Hugin with a soft tug. Hugin is always bigger in his mind, in their domain, still so huge and blackish red and solid compared to when they are not in a dream. Hugin sweeps towards them, massive and staggering like a powerful burst of lightning. Snape stares up at him, awed. When Hugin lands, the darkness around them splits and shatters revealing mountains upon mountains made of purplish stone, sky soft with a cottony wind and trees made of sunshine and dripping magic. 

“This is where he brings me.” Sirius tells Snape, reaching out to touch Hugin’s large beak. Hugin pushes under his palm, dark eyes searching his face, curious. “Just showin’ Sev your neat work here.”

His magic preens in pleasure. 

“Incredible. It’s almost like a domain within yourself.” Snape says slowly. “Technically, Hugin should have his own core but you said he is still linked to yours seeing as he is just magic.”

“Mhm.” Sirius says, plucking a strand of hair from his head. He turns it into a dusty, silver flower, sliding it along the feathers of Hugin’s large head. The feathers ripple, clutching at it before melding it seamlessly. His large bird looks very cute with a flower on his head. Sirius turns back to Snape, who is watching them. “Hadrian is trying to help me figure out how to translate this into a shadow box without having to ask. Well, without me arguing with myself.”

“A what?” Snape blinks.

Sirius pulls a face. “Ask him. He’s better at explaining it than me. I don’t even know what time it is. I’m surprised he hasn’t kicked down my door because I’m pretty sure I skipped lunch. He’s gotten insufferable recently. Scary bastard.”

Snape’s expression can’t be anything more than a leer. “Oh?”

Sirius glares at him. “Don’t start that shit.”

“I am simply suggesting that he appears to be more your type.” Snape snips. “Lupin was the softest you’ve entertained. I didn’t understand what you saw in such a miserable creature. Potter Sr, however, mm, yes. Right up your alley.”

Sirius balks. Severus Snape was clearly getting too comfortable to make such jibes! Distantly, he can hear a knock at his bedroom door. Saved by the devil himself or James, Sirius thinks turning back to Hugin. “I’ll see you tonight. Send us back?”

Hugin rears up, massive wings spreading as he kaws loudly, shattering the world around them. Snape appears shaken, and covered in feathers, when they come back to reality. Sirius dusts him off with a snort and lazy flick, poking his head over the balcony to see James suspiciously looking around. Their eyes meet and they both perk up like fools. James grins. Sirius finds himself grinning back, possibly vibrating.

“Is Sev- Snape still here?”

“Yup. Just showed him candy mountain.”

James pouts. “Damn, I wanted to see his face.”

“He was shook.” Sirius says solemnly.

Snape roughly tugs his ear as he passes him. “I was not. Afternoon, Potter. If I asked you what Sirius le Fay’s dating type was, what would you say?”

Sirius scowls after him, rubbing his ear. He balks. “Don’t answer-”

“Scary.” James answers without missing a beat. He blinks then frowns. “Well, Mo-Remus wasn’t really scary but everyone else kinda was. Baby Nott was scary in, like, a messy bitch way but you dated Fabian for a bit and Hilda Greengrass before she became fuckin’ weird. Oh, then there was Cassius Rosier and Lindsey Killonger. I do think Lindsey was the scariest out of everyone with Fabian, like, right behind her. Why? He perks up. “Oh. Are you interested in someone, Pads? Good. Because fuck Remus! The best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

God, this conversation needs to stop!

“No!” Sirius blurts out, face hot.

“Ah, sounds like we are in agreement, Potter. I think he is interested in someone.” Snape says serenely. 

James frowns deeply then balks, furious. “And you haven’t told me?!”

The audacity considering James fucking Potter did not inform Sirius le Fay about his dates with Lily fucking Evans.

“Because I’m not! Stop it!” Sirius argues.

“Alas, if it works out, perhaps you will truly become brothers in everything but blood.” Snape hums, descending the stairs.

James’ mouth drops open, alarmed and confused then his face cracks open into the most terrifying look of awe and, heaven’s help him, is that delight? Sirius points a threatening finger at James. “I never admitted anything! Fucking stop. I will piss on your bed.”

“Oh, hooooo?” James leers. “Actually, I can see that clearly now that I think about it.”

“See what?!” Sirius demands hotly.

James shrugs, blinking innocently. “Oh, nothing. I support it. You’re so dense sometimes. At least half the work is done. Oh. Shit, I almost forgot why I came up here. Hades is making goose and cheese pierogies because someone had asked for it.” James grins widely. Its seedy and terrible and Sirius has no idea what the fuck is happening and he definitely doesn’t like the look Snape and James share before turning back to him in unison, smug.

Sirius hides behind the banister with a soft, unfortunately, canine sound.

Notes:

Snape may be slightly OOC but I think I did him justice without over harping on how bitchy he usually is. I also wanted a Snape who is like... beyond his Lily obsession. Dudes a badass even if he is a cunt. Let him move on and heal. And not bully children idk. Don't call your loveoflife a slur idk crazy I know

I WILL say in this he didn't call Lily a MB in this because truly Sirius wouldn't let that shit slide and would deck him soundly because they were "friends" at that time. I think in this AU Siri's relationship with the dungeon bat helped him become more confident and, likely, more murderous.

Friendship timeline: Siri betrays Remus, iced out by Marauders, Siri does apologize to Snape but also hexes the shit out of him, they fight and Siri accidentally tumbles into Snape's mind, in retaliation Snape essentially goes into his & they realize they have more in common than they thought. Bitter truce happens, Marauders aside from Jame are not talking to him so Siri becomes a barnacle to people that are talking to him and decks numerous Snakes (looking at you Avery, you bastard) because he's on a self destruction spree cause heck why not, hes destroyed his life thus begins their turbulent friendship

Lily does find this hilarious. Sev is the reason Siri passed potions, Siri is the reason Sev passed runes

11 year old Siri is quaking in his tiny burberry boots upon realizing he is, in fact, friends with Severus fucking Snape in the future

Chapter 12: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Summary:

A patrol with some familiar and new faces.

Notes:

TWs, violence, scary imagery (i guess), cult behavior, death, possessive behavior?

- Sirius making a scrap book of suffering
- Sirius "little shit" le Fay vs Elias "put this boy on a leash" Warrington
- An Auror appears!
- Hugin isn't the only thing a le Fay must face
- Cuwious magicks
- an assessment of Sirius' general psyche (its giving broken)
- A dog answers his master's call

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius has started collecting Prophet articles because the recent ones have been spectacular. Sure, Walburga spoke out about Sirius being a le Fay and still being a useless waste of space but she also appeared more harried. For those who didn’t know Walburga Black, she’d appear the same, beautiful, regal with her mouth subtly curled in the corners, but Sirius knows Walburga. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her eyes, how her hair was worn in intricate braids instead of the elegant curls it usually had. 

Sirius knows this because he was often on the heavy side of her temper. Braids meant she’s been pulling her hair out again, whether it be out of frustration or fury. He tacks the image to his board and it gives him strength to overcome himself. If he was such a waste, why was his former mother mourning so much? Sirius wonders how her magic feels now that it isn’t filled with his own, if her crucio would still be as lethal as her hands around his neck. In some deep part of him, he knows he also keeps this picture to remind himself that he doesn’t need her approval anymore, that he shouldn’t crave it. 

Sirius had a mother now. Dead. Gone. But he had her portrait, he knew how she laughed, how she smiled, the way her nose wrinkles when she wakes, how her hand moves fluidly through the air when she’s telling a story. Sirius also knew her terrifying anger, never at him but for him. He had never known such motherly affection beyond Euphemia but oh, how easy it was to see how Isolde would’ve loved him in life as she does in death even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it. 

Sirius thought about this so much, about Isolde, about Orion, Walburga. He knows the Blacks are trembling with the permanent loss of their families landmarks, that the gold in their vaults was drenched in the blood of chimeras and manticores, those decaying bodies left in their homes amongst the wards, that Isolde was not yet done. Sirius considered asking her not to bother, considered a lot of things but remained silent, reveled in the security she offered. 

“Don’t be nervous. It’ll be fun.” Elias grins, adjusting the holster on his wrist. “Just a simple trial run.”

Sirius twists his mouth to one side. “Yeah. Is this standard procedure most of the time?”

“It is sometimes.” Elias laughs. “The Aurors will ask for backup, I guess you can say, for patrols, if we aren’t busy. It's a good learning experience. We’ll be taking Olgen Road and Listel. I have two more recruits joining us then we’ll head out.”

Sirius hums in response, crossing his arms over his chest. He had already mentally prepared himself for today since Hadrian’s reminder. Sirius had finally managed to translate braiding to his own head, which was really him sending Hugin a detailed image and his magic doing the work for him. Incredibly helpful because Sirius just couldn’t figure out how to keep all of his hair together without snapping his own eyeballs out and watching his fingers move. 

The two other recruits join them in the exit atrium. It’s a narrow, tight space with a floo and some plain chairs but mostly just empty, liminal space. Sirius believes their names are Leeroy Jenkins and Jessica Hills but he’s also only ever interacted with them once, maybe twice. Jessica seems nervous, which Sirius can understand, while Leeroy eyes Sirius’ attire critically. Sirius knows they’re supposed to wear robes but he’s not about to do that when robes were cumbersome and a fucking hinderance. It was like capes. Who wears a cape to a fight?

Crowe didn’t even argue with him, just found it amusing. 

Elias claps his hands. “Perfect. We’re all here. While I’m sure you know of each other, Sirius le Fay,” He nods to Sirius. “Jessica Hillson,” A nod to Jessica. “And Leonard Jenkins.”

Ah, well, can’t win them all, Sirius thinks. He’s always been bad with names, which is something he likely needed to work on because he could understand how dismissive it must feel to be constantly asked for reminders of what they’re called. Oh, well. Live, laugh, love, Sirius thinks, inclining his head in greeting when Jessica gives a simple wave. 

“Robes are optional?” Leonard asks. He sounds hopeful.

Elias sends Sirius a withering look. “If you have a decent argument as to why you shouldn’t wear ‘em.”

Leonard frowns deeply, sending Sirius a questioning glance. Sirius subtly flicks his eyes to his wand strapped on his wrist then back. Leonard’s expression cracks with understanding. He straightens. “This is a patrol even if it's a trial run. Something could happen.”

Jessica makes a low noise of agreement. “I agree. For formal occasions, I could understand, but you’re not wearing a robe either, sir.”

“You’re not.” Sirius agrees pleasantly. “Sir.”

Elias sends him another look. “Alright, alright.”

Leonard seems relieved, tapping the emblem on his chest and the robes snap back inside the uniform. Jessica does the same. 

“We’ll be joining Auror Alastor Moody. He’s a bit… eccentric but you’ve experienced Crowe and it doesn’t get much worse than that.”

Jessica hides a smile behind her hand. Elias gives them the password for the floo, which is curious, but Sirius is a bit awed to be spit out onto an empty, rank alleyway. He thought Elias said they were meeting Moody but there’s- the hair on his neck rises and Hugin reels sharply inside him. Sirius’ gaze flickers upwards, wand already in hand, to where a heavy set man dressed in an Auror uniform leans heavily on an invisible, elevated platform. His eyes are wild, manic, with a crazed look about them that certainly matches Crowe’s. He grunts, nodding in sharp approval. Sirius sags, tucking his wand back into his holster.

Leonard appears beside Sirius, stumbling a bit but catches himself on a brick wall. He looks around, noticing Sirius and frowns, confused. Sirius does not tell him that they are being watched as clearly this was a test of some kind. Maybe an assessment. He has heard of Alastor Moody. Strong, built to last despite his age, and noted to be especially bloodthirsty but a reliable teacher despite his low tolerance for foolishness. Jessica is next then Elias, who seems to already have clocked where Moody is judging by the flicker of his eyes. Jessica peers around, mouth thinning.

“Where is-” She startles badly, noticing Moody above them.

Leonard’s gaze snaps upwards. He gapes.

Moody hops down, landing silently despite the way the ground tremors beneath them. “Hillson, you’re slow on the uptake but I give you points for trying. Jenkins, hmmmm. Good instincts you’ve got, le Fay. That magic of yours does good reactive work but you match it well.”

I do, Sirius thinks and Hugin preens like the bird bastard he is. Sirius has many questions but now isn’t the time and Moody’s piercing gaze suggests that it may be discussed later. Did Moody know about Hugin? What a strange way to phrase that sentence without really giving anything away. While it was known that le Fays used blood magic often, Sirius didn’t think the actual existence of Hugin would’ve been made aware to anyone beyond those loyal to his house or… the people looking to take him away. He bristles, glancing at Elias, who subtly shakes his head, expression reassuring. Sirius deflates a bit but Moody seems pleased by Sirius’ reaction. 

“Where did you even come from?” Leonard sniffs, clearly soured by Moody’s words.

“Constant vigilance!” Moody shouts, startling all of them aside from Elias. 

Elias shrugs. “He’s right. Alright, Alastor, who do you want?”

Moody hums deeply. “Gimme Jenkins and le Fay. Maybe they’ll offset one another. We’ll take east. Reconvene at fifteen, north side. I got Longbottom and little Potter on west.”

Oh, James is here, Sirius perks up. Maybe they could eat together again.

“Alright.” Elias says, nodding to Jessica. “You’re with me. We got the south.”

They split off neatly, the back part of the alley dissolving to give way to a busy street that snaps back closed once Elias and Jessica are on the other end. Sirius trails after Moody, Leonard staggering by his side. The world around them shifts as they walk, breaking open to a dwindling courtyard filled with chatting wixen and an enraged, tiny owl who appears to be bickering with its owner. How cute, Sirius thinks. Luckily Umbra and him hadn’t been on the outs, especially considering Sirius has never owned an owl or bird of whatever variety but he also just let his phoenix live his best life, small creatures be damned. 

“Easy day?” Leonard asks quietly.

“Keep your wits about you, lads.” Moody growls under his breath, eyes flickering along the crowd. “Peace gives room for fanfare of all kinds.”

Sirius nods, tapping his index finger to his palm, nervous. He steels himself. Fear is second to all. Sirius has survived Walburga, survived Bellatrix, his disownment. The rest was just simplicity. He can privately admit he’s excited to be on patrol even if it does feel new. New was exciting, could be super great and fantastic. Reframing, Sirius thinks. The air feels incredibly good and the sky is filled with charming, fat clouds. He could easily imagine Umbra nesting in a patch of sun, likely settled on Gatsby’s back as they share some poor animal. 

They keep to the exterior perimeter, generally unnoticed by wixen going about their days. Sirius trails after Moody into a narrow alleyway. It smells damp, soot and age clinging to the walls. His ears pick up the faint sounds of whispers on the wind. Constant vigilance, Huggie, Sirius thinks, slipping his wand to rest subtly against his palm.

“Surprised we didn’t do a night patrol.” Leonard says quietly, voice filled with nerves.

“Tsk, as if dark wizards have morning routines.” Moody responds curtly. “Keep eyes on the rooftops.”

They continue in tense silence, the alley growing more narrow and dark with a sliver of bustling street at the end. Sirius picks up a faint rustling, so soft he nearly misses it but it’s enough to capture his attention. He stiffens for a brief second, head snapping towards the sound and a figure emerges from the shadows, cloaked in heavy, dark robes, their face obscured by a hood.

Their wand is drawn before he can react, spitting, “Crucio” in a furious voice.

Hugin reacts before Sirius manages to throw up a shield, pulsing around him as the curse slams right into it. Sirius staggers back from the force, gritting his teeth at the distant pain he feels from it. Leonard spins around, wand drawn but there’s another figure and another, their faces twisted in ugly sneers.

“Down!” Moody barks, deflecting curse after curse, the air filling with the crackle of dark magic. “It’s an ambush!”

Sirius’ heart races as more robed figures emerge from the shadows, their movements unnerving and slow like a disjointed body with separate limbs. There are dark symbols etched onto their robes, the head of an upside down raven, beheaded and dripping silver into the translucent shape of a three dimensional, spiked square. Sirius knows that shape, that box.  

“le Fay!” One of them hisses venomously. “The last of your cursed line! It is time to free our master from his container!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sirius thinks wildly. His blood runs cold. He deflects curse after curse, Leonard a few feet away and locked in a duel with one of the robed attackers, expression tight with concentration. Moody shoots off a series of stunner spells, his grizzled face twisted in bright fury. God, there are so many and this alley is so small, so damp and Sirius feels overwhelmed. He manages to disarm one of them, snatching them up bodily and sending them careening into some approaching Leonard from behind. It isn’t enough, these robed people are relentless and crazed with bright, malicious eyes. 

“You cannot hide from what you are, Sirius le Fay.” A male’s voice rings out. The people part easily, bowing in reverence as he strides through, robes sickly pale white. His eyes are strange, so strange like staring into the chasm of desolation itself. “Man and beast. Bound by blood, bound by the fire born from those burned in your family’s wretched quest for power. The enslaved shall be freed.”

Sirius does not like that. No, no, he’s mine. He’s mine! Sirius thinks panickedly, stumbling backwards. There is a wild surge of anger, of fear welling up inside of him. Reframe, Sirius thinks sharply. Fear is second to all. Sirius blocks another spell sent his way, retaliating with a cutting curse that misses the man who deflects it. The curse crashes into a person on his right. They stagger for a moment before multiple, thin lines of red draw along their face. It is a messy, gruesome drop to the ground.

His wand trembles in his hand, a gasp lodged in his throat even as Hugin courses dangerously inside him. He killed someone. Sirius killed someone. His mouth trembles. Fuck. Fuck. But he had to do something, he had to. Them or us. Them or us, Sirius chants even if he feels fractured and split beyond belief. There is a whimper trapped viscerally behind his teeth. Sirius lifts his wand, but this man is faster, “expelliarmus!” 

His wand rips sharply from his grasp with a deafening clatter. Blood roars in his ears, overriding every sense, every nerve. Sirius struggles against the heavy onslaught of terror building inside him. No, second to all. Reframe, Sirius thinks. His hands shake at his sides, hard brick hitting his back as that man strides towards him, smug, predatory. No, Sirius thinks. Be bold, his father would say. Be more, his mother would urge. I’ll never be that. No. No. No.

“This offense ends with you-” Sirius surges forward, instinct warring against everything else, against his fear, his hesitance and his magic rises with him. The sheer awe and reverence in this man’s gaze is more frightening than his words and Sirius drags him down with him, a hand curled around his throat, a wand pressed hard into his own. 

Hugin waits, in his mind, in his domain, and the man is brought sharply to his knees. There are others, in this place, staring and staring but Hugin only looks to Sirius. He pants harshly, control slipping from his fingers and slams hard to the ground. It's so much, it’s too much and he can feel all of them inside him, their magic, alive and breathing and it's-

“This is who you’ve chosen?” The man demands. “Weak! Unworthy to house you! My lord allow us to rid you of your cage.”

Hugin turns slowly to the man, tilting his head, assessing and the man prostrates himself, palms raised in humble supplication. The rest are quick to follow, raising their hands even as their bodies begin to melt into the empty earth, faces filled with fear, with a sick sort of love. The man straightens, arms spread out wide and tears stream down his cheeks. He’s speaking again but Sirius can’t hear a word he’s saying. It feels like a chant for how the inside of this empty place ripples and burns.

No, Sirius thinks. 

Hugin turns back to him.

No, no, he’s mine, Sirius thinks. You’re mine. Sirius forces his head up, meeting that black gaze. This was all he had left of her, of himself. How much more could he lose? Why? Why do- Reframe, Sirius stumbles to his feet, furious, hurt, because what was he without magic? They’re not taking you. He grasps his magic tightly, feels that curl of vibrant, terrible rage. Sirius presses his hand to Hugin’s feathered chest, feathers sliding between his fingers, his bones and skin.

“How dare you touch-”

“This is mine.” Sirius snarls. “He’s mine! He’s mine!”

And he feels it.

And let’s go.

The world shatters around them. There are mountains that break through the very sky, purplish and dripping with rolls and rolls of crackling silver magic. The earth shifts beneath them, cracking open with rows upon rows of beaks and runs hot with sticky blood.

“Of us.” Sirius says softly, feeling something inside him crack so completely. 

Hugin shrieks high and loud in dark approval. His magic dissolves against him like a ripple of barbed wire and Sirius sinks to his knees as the man, the people brought with him, are snatched up in a whirl of harrowing, blackened feathers, how their magic seeps through every nerve in his body, every pore and its terrible and great and Sirius shudders with the hot wave of power that surges through him. He can hear their screams but it’s so distant, so far away. Quiet, Sirius thinks.

And so it does. 

His hands tremble on his thighs. He grits his teeth, blinking back tears. Sirius roughly rubs his face, a wave of helplessness washing over him. His hands won’t stop shaking. He wishes he had his parents to talk to, in this moment, in all these moments. A Black, now a le Fay, and still Sirius felt so broken. Alone. Haphazard. At least he has this, even if he has no one.

Sirius stares up at the Orion constellation slowly stretching above him, a web of stars beneath his knees and slumps down into the spread of grass he wishes was there. It's so soft beneath him. There is a voice in the distance. It sounds like his name. Sirius doesn't want to get up. He doesn’t remember how he got here but it's so, so nice. Sirius frowns. How did he get here? Maybe he asked for a nap, maybe this itself is a dream. Oh, his name again, louder this time. 

Sirius rolls onto his back, staring up at his father’s stars, his star. He misses his father. His magic thrums inside him, urging him. Sirius doesn’t want to leave, don’t make him leave. Hugin’s head materializes before him, dipping low in greeting, and Sirius reaches out a hand, running his fingers along his large beak. 

Hugin kaws.

“Did I kill them?” 

A lower kaw, a disagreement. The feeling of his own regret, a request in his own heart. Sirius huffs but hardly finds any relief.

“Don’t leave me too.” Sirius whispers and Hugin settles over him, those massive wings folding along his limbs. He can feel his magic, Hugin’s very essence, how it turns into a warm, steady heartbeat. Hugin tucks his head under Sirius’ chin and sparks with dark, erosive magic. Sirius wraps his arms around him, feels how his magic purrs and coos and writhes against him. He hears his name again, on the breeze, in this strange place. 

“Sirius.” Hadrian’s face appears above him. His expression is so strange. “It's time to go home.”

Sirius doesn’t want to leave. He turns back to the sky. “Just a minute.”

There is a beat of silence.

“Alright, Riri.” Hadrian settles beside him. “Tell me about these stars. Whose constellation is this?”

So Sirius tells him with Hugin breathing into him. The story of a boastful hunter who claimed the world as his hunting grounds, forever to be hunted by the scorpion that killed him, the hunter and his dogs, his dog but to spot Orion in the sky means to have strength, a sharp intuition, the right to be bold. Hadrian listens, gesturing to different stars, asking what’s this, this one, that one like how Regulus would, his head on Sirius’ shoulder. 

“I think I’m broken.” Sirius admits. 

Fingers gently tap his forehead. “Nah.”

“They want to take him from me. Those people.” Sirius tells him.

“Hugin isn’t going anywhere and neither are you.” Hadrian says, looking down at him. “James is waiting for you. Can you hear him?”

Oh. Was that who was calling him? Sirius blinks. “James?”

“Mhm.” Hadrian moves a strand of hair out of Sirius’ face. “Let’s go back to him, yeah?” 

To James, Sirius thinks. He accepts these words and Hugin ripples around him, seeping into his skin, his soul and Sirius is back in the alley, knees pressed hard to his chest with Hadrian crouching in front of him, arms folded over his knees. James is beside him, panicked, and his entire expression cracks with heavy relief when Sirius tilts his head towards him. 

“Shit, Pads.” James breathes. He gathers Sirius’ face in gentle hands. Sirius grabs his wrist.

“Well done, le Fay.” Moody says gruffly. “Toss ‘em back out.”

Oh, the people, Sirius thinks. He tugs lightly on his magic, feels it surge and several groaning bodies are spit out of the ground, covered in tarry, melting feathers. His mind is spinning, body still buzzing with power, with an electric charge he can feel thrumming through him. 

“You saved me.” Leonard’s voice rings out. Sirius turns to see him, leaning heavily against a shattered, brick wall. His uniform is covered in blood, hand pressed over a heavy spread of red in his side. He smiles, lips trembling, his entire body shaking with adrenaline, perhaps pain. I caused this, Sirius thinks, disgruntled and guilty. He swallows thickly, flicking his hand towards him and Leonard’s expression ripples in sharp relief. He pulls his hand away, the gaping wound on his side stitching itself back up to cover muscle and the peak of bone. 

“We got 7 bodies. Two dead.” Moody drops an additional one right on the group, earning more low, pained groans. There’s a deep cut that stretches across his face. “You felt the spike?”

“Yeah. Sent word to Warrington so he doesn’t get pissy.” Hadrian responds, pushing himself to his feet. He holds out a hand to Sirius. James hooks his shoulder under Sirius’ arm as he grasps Hadrian’s hand and he’s pulled up to his feet. Sirius leans heavily against James, dizzy, and James squeezes him softly. 

“This ain’t over.” Moody huffs, tapping his wand to his face. The cut heals. “I’ll have words with Tennison for letting this slip us by.”

Hadrian’s lips quirk upward. “Careful, Moody. You already stole my little brother.”

“Ehh, could’ve had a full set.” Moody sniffs, waving a dismissive hand. 

“You okay?” James whispers.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Sirius admits quietly. 

“Frankie went to get a healer but I guess we don’t really need it.” James says, nodding towards Leonard, who seems pretty perked up given the situation. 

“We need to finish the patrol.” Sirius says.

Moody’s approval is heavy. “Gotta transfer this lot to a holding cell first.”

We can do that, his magic says. We can? Sirius thinks. He sends Moody a questioning glance, whose eyebrows rise with curiosity. Sirius turns back to the group and waves a lazy hand. The ground bursts into a flurry of feathered, clawed hands that hook into each other and press the bodies into a growing, crackling swirl of black. Sirius looks back to Moody.

He grins madly. “Holding cell 52.”

You got that, Sirius thinks and Hugin reels in response. The bodies are dragged sharply into the ground, disappearing completely. 

“I brought- Wait. Weren’t there people?” Frank huffs, stumbling down the alley with another wizard dressed in green robes and a series of thin packs strapped to their chest. 

“Holding cell 52. We’ll process ‘em once we get back.” Moody responds curtly. “Doubt they’ll be recovering yet with how ruptured the alive ones’ cores are currently.”

Leonard balks. “What?”

“Eh, not my place.” Moody sniffs. He gives Hadrian a firm nod. “I got yours, Potter. Stay on le Fay’s good side, Jenkins. That’s all I gotta say.” 

What a shit, Sirius thinks, charmed. Hadrian sends Sirius a look, curious, but doesn’t say anything. He claps James on the shoulder, taps two fingers beneath Sirius’ chin and dissolves into a flurry of grotesque shadowed limbs. Leonard balks, again. 

“How curious.” The healer says, surprised.

Frank sways a bit. “I…”

“Isn’t it cool?” James asks excitedly. “I end up blinding people so I gotta be careful.”

“Oh, Prongs.” Sirius laughs. “You little ball of sun.”

James beams.

Notes:

Alas we here. My Hades and Prongsfoot folx are eating well today *snaps snaps*

So! We are delving more into the why le Fays have been hidden. So weird that this cult was never mentioned before :strokes chin: so cuwious.

Alssoooooo ultra delighted y'all loved my Snep. He is but a supported, still grumpy boy! A blurb:

(they are both, like 18, about to graduate):
Sirius, kicks down dorm door: Get the fuck out Avery before I put your stomach in your ass again
Avert does a scurry:
Snape, suffering: What?
Sirius, serious: Did you get in?
Snape, pleased & ruffled: Perhaps
Sirius, fangirling: I FUCKING TOLD YOU! Hell yes, boy! Hear take this key. I have it aaaaall planned out.
Snape, startled: you... what?
Sirius, serious once more: Dude, Sofia is fuckin' expensive, luckily you have ME. don't worry, its not super fancy. No take backs. *chucks key and it smacks Snape in the face* He then proceeds to run away with a cackle

Months later upon seeing this "simple" flat, Severus Snape nearly has a heart attack at his young age. He sends many howlers.

I guess this is a long winded way of saying that Sirius has adopted a Snep and keeps his groceries stocked much to Sev's disgruntled pleasure.

Chapter 13: Here We Go Again!

Summary:

Hadrian and Sirius have an outing.

Notes:

TWS, references to domestic abuse (it is one sentence), implied death, implied revenge, discussions of violence, Sirius' mouth (heavy sigh)... think that's it.

- Sirius' general attraction to pissy, angry people
- Sirius "sloppy work" le Fay vs Silas "someone is talking about me" Vance
- Hadrian "suffering for people he cares for" Potter
- Every dog ever vs Sirius le Fay
- Sirius encouraging Hadrian's sweet tooth
- Effie lore
- A wittle crumb of affection

There is a slight POV shift, very short and its an OC, I just thought it'd be funny as fuck to include it

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Why are you pouting?” Hadrian asks, critically studying a set of runes he’s engraving into a knife. It surges out, slamming into the wall with a terrible crack. He appears heavily displeased, flicking his hand and it slinks back together like some sad noodle. Sirius watches him, cheek smooshed underneath him as he drapes across the kitchen island. He is not pouting or sulking but he is bored as fuck. 

James was off with Lily, being insufferable and in love. Sirius did not want to walk in on Marlene fucking Dorcas in their foyer again so he just kept his ass home knowing that’s exactly what they would be doing right now. Fucking rabbits, he thinks sullenly. There is another harsh thunk but now there are multiple knife extensions. Hadrian looks pissed, which is terrible because wow, what a look. Surely, a Potter thing because when James got pissed, Sirius’ mind would start considering, which is likely why it took him so long to convince Remus that he was not in love with James Potter. 

He would just die for him. 

Let’s stop this direction of thoughts, Sirius forces himself up, holding out his hand. Hadrian sends him a look. Sirius shakes his hand at him until Hadrian drops the knife into his hand. Despite looking so dainty and light, this shit is heavy. That won’t do, Sirius thinks, summoning a thin chisel. Hadrian leans forward to watch him, elbows resting on the island. He appears curious, head tilting to one side as he watches Sirius work. 

“Did you mean to make this heavy as fuck?” Sirius asks absently, correcting a small error. 

“I hadn’t noticed.” Hadrian responds, noticing the adjustment. “Ah, I had wondered.”

“‘Course you didn’t” Sirius snorts. He does not look at Hadrian’s forearms. “Yeah. Who made this? Vance?”

Hadrian rubs his face, laughing. “Yes.”

“I can fucking tell. Jesus, that man.” Sirius sniffs, turning the knife over. “His work is so sloppy sometimes.”

“Can’t all be little rune prodigies.” Hadrian quips, slumping back in his seat

“Have to be good at something.” Sirius responds, twirling the knife. Much fucking better. He whistles in appreciation, tucking one leg under the other as he bends over it. “What are you trying to do? Extension? Or…”

“Shrapnel.” Hadrian answers lowly.

I can do that, Sirius thinks. He makes a few fine lines, connecting them together into a rounded symbol that nearly looks like a scythe. Honing? Sirius hums thoughtfully. Might be beneficial. He sits back in his seat, cradling the knife to his stomach as he balances it between his thigh. Sirius waves a hand, a book smacking soundly to his palm. Page 68, Huggies, he thinks. His magic responds easily, the sound of pages flipping quickly filling the air. Sirius peers at the book, frowning. He turns back to the knife, dwindling at the metal until it glows hot. 

His magic purrs questioningly. Shrapnel, Sirius thinks, earning a coo. A feathered hand slowly slides out of his wrist, hesitating, until Sirius makes a questioning noise. Arteries, it suggests. Sirius’ eyebrows shoot up because what.  

“Oh hell yes, Hugs. Show me?” Sirius asks, watching in awe as the fingers become talons, etching long, detailed shapes that spark and sparkle. Huh, Sirius thinks. He never considered combining the rune for rainwater to death and mountains. It looks like an eggplant with tiny ears. His magic retracts back inside him, feeling incredibly smug, which is endearing. Sirius hands the knife to Hadrian, who just sat there quietly watching, amused with a strange look on his face.

Hadrian takes it gingerly. “It feels better. What did you do?” He eyes the runes curiously. “Is this an eggplant?”

Sirius laughs. “It looks like it, doesn’t it? So. The shrapnel is there but Hugin wanted to be dramatic so alas it now targets major arteries.” 

Hadrian’s eyebrows raise slowly. “You said what now?”

“That’s what I said.” Sirius sighs happily. “As payment for my services, you owe me Starbucks. Muggle Starbucks. I want a caramel frapp that won’t explode on me because I forgot about it.”

Hadrian grimaces. “Fuuuck. Can’t believe this shit. You couldn’t pick- Whatever. Fine.”

Sirius beams, nearly falling out of his chair in excitement as he scurries out of the kitchen. He can hear the quiet huff of amusement that follows. Sirius is ready in record time which is the truest miracle of the day. He bounces back down the stairs and if he was Padfoot, the tail would be doing terrible, wild things and he’d likely end up breaking it again but alas, a win! Maybe they could go to a park and chase birds and- Whoa, self, fucking chill, Sirius thinks wildly. 

Granted, Sirius could do all these things alone but why bother when Big Potter has agreed to his whims! This was almost as delightful as convincing Elias to get chinese food. Sirius claps himself on the back because here he is, doing the most, and bullying his seniors. Hadrian is waiting in the foyer, resigned, hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. We must stay focused, Sirius thinks. He sends Sirius a speaking look, gaze flickering down to the end of his sweater. Hadrian raises an eyebrow. Sirius huffs, lifting it to reveal his shorts. Another eyebrow joins the other. 

“It's still summer!” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms.

“Yet you’re wearing a sweater.” Hadrian deadpans. “I’d ask if maa lets you out the house like this but she likely encourages.”

“She does.” Sirius chirps. “My arms get cold. Plus, my thighs look great. I want to do a watermelon contest this fall when I visit Minnie and Babbles with Jaime and Sev.”

“A what?”

Sirius blinks. “Oh. We did them at school. You get a watermelon and see if you can break it with your thighs! I’ve won three times.” He is very proud of this feat because James could not succeed in everything physical activity related and if running has done anything, it has influenced Sirius to want strong legs so he can crush watermelons and the heads of his enemies. 

Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks even more resigned, perhaps awed. “Alright. There’s a Starbucks in the next neighborhood over.”

Sirius blinks. “Why?”

“Do I look like someone who understands why muggles do the things they do?”

“Yes.” Sirius nods.

Hadrian sends him a withering look, holding the front door open for him. Sirius bounces out the door, cheerfully greeting the old lady, Ms. Collins, who lives across the street. Her little dog, Darcy, scampers around her walker as she wrestles with her gardening hose. Sirius had met her once, on accident, because she had, quite literally, fallen on her porch steps just as he returned from a run. He had never been so panicked in his life! Muggles were so fragile! Ms. Collins waves back, expression brightening into a wrinkly smile. Hadrian locks the door behind them, yawning into the crook of his elbow but does send her a wave when she calls out to them. 

“Where are you young men off too?” She asks happily, perking up when Sirius walks over to straighten out her hose. “Oh, thank you.”

“We’re going to Starbies, Ms. C.” Sirius chirps, kneeling to greet Darcy, who hurries over to him. Sirius ruffles his soft ears, tiny paws braced on his knee. He gets many licks for his services. 

“Starbucks, Ms. Collins.” Hadrian deadpans. “He looked over my dissertation. This is my penance. You want anything?”

Ms. Collins appears pleased. “Oh no, sweetheart. You two be safe!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sirius chirps. “Bye Darcy!” 

Darcy barks happily. Hadrian smacks Sirius upside the head when he clammors back over, lips twitching upwards. Sirius grins up at him. “We should get her hot chocolate.”

“Ah, you read my mind.” Hadrian agrees, grinning back. “I think she’ll enjoy the mint version they have.”

Sirius is immediately intrigued because what? Mint in hot chocolate? What a discovery! There are plenty of muggles out of their homes today, some with dogs who ignore their commands to run up and greet Sirius. There are some with babies and round children as well. Hadrian watches in amusement as Sirius makes a point to pet every single dog that runs up to them even as their owners balk and panic. 

“We should get a dog.” Sirius says, cheerfully waving goodbye to a German Shepherd that seems so disheartened that he is leaving. 

“We have a dog.” Hadrian hums. 

Sirius glares at him. “Hey. I have done so well with not hiding under my bed recently.”

“Almost like the stinging hex to your ass was a great deterrent.” Hadrian replies cheerfully.

“That was not a stinging hex.” Sirius hisses. “You yanked me out like some fucking eldritch abomination.”

“You made Jay weepy. I can’t have that, Riri.” Hadrian grins. 

“What about when he makes me weepy?” Sirius huffs, indignant.

“That is punishment enough.”

Ok, true, it was. James Potter has only made Sirius le Fay legitimately cry three times and each time was terrible. Sirius can count on one hand the amount of times he has cried due to a Marauder. James was three, Remus was, now, twice, and Peter was 0 because honestly, fuck Peter. Regardless, James would get so panicked and mortified to have caused such a scene and apologize profusely while still saying he was an idiot but god, Pads don’t cry. This was distinctly different than if anyone or anything else made Sirius cry because then James would just get… weird and the more time Sirius spends with Hadrian, the more he realizes that this was clearly an influence from Big Potter, who would get weird and thunderous over tears from either of them.

“Do you think I should’ve disguised myself?” Sirius asks, following Hadrian around a curve.

“Nah. I’m here.” 

Sirius huffs. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You don’t. I mean I’m here to save others.” Hadrian laughs.

“Dick.” Sirius nudges him. “I’ve been thinking more about those people. About Hugin. Do you know what happens when a le Fay accepts their magic completely?”

“Hmm.” Hadrian tilts his head, catching a rogue baseball without looking. He tosses it easily to the panicked, apologetic child who runs up to them. “I’d have to look. I don’t even think Morgana accepted Hugin completely and she was quite powerful. Is that what he… wants?”

Sirius shrugs. “Sometimes I don’t know if his feelings are real or if it's just me projecting.”

“You wanna elaborate?” Hadrian prompts carefully. 

Sirius rubs his face. “Like. I know I keep saying I feel broken but like, I’m so forreal. I felt like I was only truly at peace, I guess, when he acknowledged me in the Vault with mom. I don’t know. I can see why others would… try to get rid of him. We’re the same but it's so disjointed. It… it makes me nervous. Especially when Hugs acknowledged those people in our domain.”

Hadrian hums thoughtfully. “Have you asked him what he wants?”

“At the risk of sounding like a bitch, I’m scared to.” Sirius laughs. He thinks he knows the answer, that Hugin would yield to any and all his demands because he was linked to Sirius’ very soul but the le Fay strand had been burned and burned and burned by the very wixen who created it. Maybe Hugin didn’t want to be one but was too scared to be out of the container. A domesticated bird doesn’t do well in the wild or most animals bred in captivity. The result of Hugin being on his own would likely be devastating. It was devastating now when he was contained. Guess I’ll ask, Sirius thinks and his magic pulses in greedy questioning. 

“Nah, that’s understandable.” Hadrian says easily. “Ugh, at least, Starbucks is dead. Hopefully Liz isn’t here.”

Sirius gasps, delighted. Starbucks was indeed dead, with only a few people settled outside under large umbrellas. The seats look uncomfortable as fuck, and they are, but that was the experience! Sirius sends Hadrian an excited look, earning an eye roll. 

Hadrian sniffs. “Don’t fucking start. I see why you and Marlene get on. Sick of seeing this damn building.”

Sirius' delight immediately turns to offense because why was he not invited to Muggle Starbies! He opens his mouth to voice these things, aghast, because what.

“Do. Not. Start.” Hadrian hisses, flicking him on the forehead. “Or I will not let you pick my drink.”

Sirius may have stars in his eyes. Wow! What an honor! Hadrian appears regretful, if not suffering, but well, he brought this upon himself. He does let Sirius drag him to the entrance like some overexcited canine but refuses to let Sirius open the door for himself which is perplexing but Sirius has learned not to argue with Potters. There are more patrons inside and two baristas, who look a bit harried but otherwise smiling. Hadrian slumps in heavy relief. 

“Your Starbies gf not here?” Sirius asks cheerfully, trailing behind Hadrian to the counter.

“Thank fuck.” Hadrian pulls a face. “Nah, she’s an… I don’t know.”

“Hades, you dog.” Sirius gasps. 

Hadrian massages his temples. “It was when I first moved here so it’s been years. She just. Won’t let it go.”

“Damn.” Sirius whistles. “Cas said you laid pipe.”

Hadrian’s expression is a strange mix between fury and embarrassment. “I didn’t sleep with her. We went out once.”

“What’s that quote from the show with a bunch of children? Braxy? Something about brunch?” Sirius hums. “Sure Jam? Jan? Jan! That’s it! Sure, Jan.”

“Please stop talking.” Hadrian sniffs, directing Sirius directly up to a smiling barista. She’s incredibly cute with charms in her hair. How cute, Sirius thinks. Her name tag says Alicia. There are even curious pins on her apron.

“What can I get for you?” Alicia greets happily.

“Shit.” Sirius frowns deeply. Frap? Yes. That’s what they are called. Oh but there’s a macchiato. Sirius balks. They have cortados! Wait, I am getting ahead of myself, Sirius thinks wildly. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Ok, ok. May I have a hot, grande white chocolate mocha with two pumps of dark caramel, two pumps of dolce, and soy milk? I also would like a venti caramel…Jesus, there’s an apple crisp latte.”

This is why Sirius does not go to Starbucks, heaven’s help him. Marlene handles all his ordering because he would get distracted. Sirius rubs his temple, Alicia’s expression cradled with pity and amusement. He can hear Hadrian’s snort of amusement behind him. Ok, I can do this. I am grown! Sirius steels himself. “In addition to the white chocolate mocha, may I have an apple crisp oat milk macchiato and a mint hot chocolate with extra whip cream? Both venti. And hot. Please.”  

Sirius wants to die. He doesn’t even know what oat milk fucking was. God. 

“Sure thing.” Alicia chirps, fingers moving quickly over her screen. “For the apple crisp, may I make a suggestion?”

Sirius perks up. “Hell yes.”

Alicia perks up as well, eyes lighting up. “Ahh, so it comes with the apple brown sugar syrup but it is exceptionally good when paired with the dark caramel and a smidge of pecan syrup. You should get cinnamon on top too.”

“That sounds devastating.” Sirius thinks. Hadrian laughs behind him. He flushes. “Shit, I said that out loud. Yeah, dude, let’s do it.”

Alicia laughs, evidently charmed. She winks at him. “Sure thing. Anything else?”

Sirius turns to Hadrian, who shrugs. “Darcy likes bacon.”

“Absolutely not.” Hadrian says sternly. “That dog is older than me. You’ll fuck his stomach up.”

“So mean.” Sirius sulks, turning back to Alicia. “That’s it.”

“Alright.” Alicia simpers. “That’ll be €19.17.” 

“Sweeet.” Sirius chirps, reaching for his wallet. He has gotten so good at muggle money recently.

“I will cut off your hand.” Hadrian sniffs, easing Sirius out the way. He sends Sirius a heated look when he moves to argue because damn he knows he said he wanted Starbies as a reward but he could pay for his own shit. Alicia looks between them, eyes glittering with amusement, and takes Hadrian’s money with a sympathetic look sent Sirius' way, who may be sulking. Hadrian lifts an eyebrow slowly at him, dismissing the bills Alicia tries to hand back with a “keep it”. She appears a bit panicked by this revelation but Hadrian is already steering Sirius away from the counter like some disgruntled teenager.

Hadrian, also, doesn’t let him retrieve their drinks. Sirius doesn’t know why he came at this point, to sit here, brood? Look pretty? Sirius flips his hair off his shoulder, glowering at his drink when it's set before him. It is hard to keep such an expression on his face because wow, this fucking smell. Sirius drags the cup to him, sniffing deeply. Holy shit, he thinks wildly, subtly cooling it down and takes a heft drink. Holy shit, Sirius sways in his seat. 

“Good?” Hadrian asks, amused, settling across from him. He slides a finger along Ms. Collins’ drink and the steam escaping slowly moves back inside, billowing under the lid. Hadrian lazily flicks his fingers and Sirius notices a very faint silencing spell wrapping around them, 

“This was a mistake.” Sirius says seriously. “It’s so good. I’m obsessed. That girl needs a raise.”

Hadrian shrugs. “Can always pay her rent for the next year.”

Sirius blinks. “Oh. Yes. That’d be so nice. I can do that?”

“Your house is old as fuck. Do what you want.” Hadrian laughs, studying his drink curiously. 

Sirius perks up. “Effie said you were lactose intolerant. You also like a lot of sugar. Give me validation. Right now. Or… I don’t know but I’ll do something!”

“Alright, Riri.” Hadrian chuckles, taking a slow sip. His expression ripples with heavy pleasure. Oh, Sirius’ face goes hot. He quickly looks down at his drink to avoid watching Hadrian’s throat work. If Sirius listens closely enough, he can certainly hear Severus Snape’s smug laughter and god, is that Lily’s too? Why are there so many people laughing in his subconscious right now? Ok, yes, Hadrian Potter was an incredibly fine, tall drink of water. Stop, Sirius thinks wildly. He takes another long drink because damn. Maybe a nap is needed. 

“That was fucking great.” Hadrian’s cup appears to be empty.

Sirius gapes. “Dude. You didn’t even savor it.”

“Oh, I definitely did.” Hadrian says happily, sitting back in his seat. “Her name is Alicia Harrison. Current property manager and landlord is Jesus Herrara. She’s got a flat in downtown London at the Hudson. Number 376. She goes to the University of London. Sophomore so she’ll be here for a few years at least.” 

Sirius blinks. “You are so scary sometimes. That was so fast. Do you use these powers for evil?”

“Nah.” Hadrian snorts. “Oh, guess while we’re on the topic, I got Lupin fired.” 

Sirius blinks some more. “Oh?”

“Mhmmm.” Hadrian smirks. 

“Are… Are you going to tell me how? Actually, I don’t really care.” Sirius laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have a favorite color?”

Hadrian blinks, evidently thrown.

Sirius stares back, expectant. 

“Marigold.” Hadrian answers after a long moment, gaze flickering over Sirius’ face. He seems confused.

“I did not expect that at all.” Sirius responds, delighted. “Is there a story behind that? Or did you just, like, pick it out one day?”

Hadrian flushes, which is endearing. “Maa’s family is from Kadapa. Her sisters are scattered around the world but our family home is there. When I was about 6, we went to visit her family. Her oldest sister, Prajakta, had run away from the home she shared with her husband. It was unheard of and a whole scandal. My ba, maa’s dad, was pissed but the reasoning behind it was much, much worse. One should never raise their hand to a Rudrapatha. He had raised his hand enough. Praju is a squib. I guess he thought it wouldn’t count for her. I had never seen maa more outraged. Jay was barely a year old and ba was on his deathbed so the timing was fucking terrible.” 

He laughs softly. “Maa, literally, had us on an international portkey within minutes after the news had reached her ears. Maa fucking hated Praju’s ex husband before all this happened so she wanted his head. Ba was a reasonable man but given the circumstances, he wasn’t willing to let this go, especially when he had 8 daughters demanding the same thing and he couldn’t help. Do you know what a Rudrapatha does to their enemies?”

Sirius slowly shakes his head. Omg, Effie lore, he thinks excitedly.

“You bind their body to the roots to the soil where they committed their offense and allow the earth to take back what was given. I was too young to understand what was happening but I remember maa telling me that if anyone ever laid a hand on me, James, or baba, she would send them back to the weeds. At the time, it was terrifying because I’m fucking 6 but fuck, I had never felt more safe. We ripped out the entire garden Praju’s soon to be ex-husband created for her and replaced everything with marigolds. They didn’t stop growing after we planted them. He remained trapped in that house until those very roots came for him. No amount of magic could save him. Those marigolds continue to grow to this day.”

“Holy shit.” Sirius whispers. 

“So my favorite color is marigold. I may be a Potter, may have descended from the Peverells, but I am a Rudrapatha as my mother is.” Hadrian shrugs. “Another reason I wasn’t as good a fit for the Potter seat. Not quite soft enough.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“You’re right. Just means I do what I need to do.” Hadrian agrees easily. 

“You said… you bind their body to the roots.” Sirius rotates his cuts slowly. “Is that blood magic?”

Hadrian’s lips quirk. “It's black magic.” 

Sirius inhales slowly. “Which made you a better candidate for the Peverells?”

“Yup.” Hadrian tilts his head. “Jay has that same connection. Our roots are the same. It just favored me more. Suits me better. I won’t allow my brother to take such burdens.” He leans forward, arms crossed under him against the table. “So what is your favorite color, Riri?”

Sirius laughs, thrown. God, so much information today. “I don’t have a super cool backstory but my favorite color is chestnut, I guess. When I was 8, papa took me to La Palue. The sand was so warm and this strange shade of gold. I didn’t know what to call it but it almost matches what bronze would be. We’re taught Astronomy when we’re young but it was the first time I had ever seen our constellation outside of a book. He let me build sandcastles. I was fucking awful at it but he refused to let me quit until I, at least, made an ugly house of some kind.”

He rubs his eyes, mouth twisting. “Papa was… a meticulous man. He didn’t like dirt or nature or any of that shit but he sat in the sand with me. Showed me what a heron was. There was an island really far from the coast but you could still see how it moved so slowly. It was the strangest thing. Papa said it was an aspidochelone that circled the seas every year. The first time he saw it was with Papi. We didn’t go home for days. It wasn’t there on our last day. Mam- Walburga had been so pissed when we got home but papa simply silenced her. I brought Reg so many seashells. He didn’t believe me about the aspidochelone.” 

Sirius shifts in his seat, eyes burning. “Sometimes I don’t believe it. I’d like to go back one day. See if it was actually real. Its trees were chestnut when I saw it.”

“Sounds like a road trip is needed.” Hadrian hums. His expression is so, so soft. “We’ll go see if your turtle is there.”

Sirius swallows. “That’d be cool.”

“James will, likely, shit himself.”

Sirius barks out a laugh, startled. “God. He really would.”

-

Alicia Harrison truly had the most incredible day. Retail was always a toss up on how the day would end but today was simply fantastic! She had never gotten such an astronomical amount of tips. Even splitting her bounty with Dilly, the remainder was still enough to fill her car with gas and would stock her fridge for the next month. 

Alicia had recognized the man who came in because Liz had been on a tangent recently. Alicia could understand why he would steer well clear of her. She didn’t understand how such a generous, handsome person tolerated her coworker’s messy behavior. The girl was a gossip! She really hoped the other stunning man he came in with enjoyed his apple crisp and judging by the way his face lit up, she’s assuming he did. Alicia has been trying to get more people on board with this creation as it was simply amazing. Too bad he’s taken, Alicia thinks sullenly, folding her apron on her arm as she unlocks her front door. Well, at least he has a hot sugar daddy. Liz will throw a fit!

It's when she’s closing her front door that she realizes there’s a red notice taped on it. Panic rises sharply through her. With shaky hands, Alicia plucks the notice, carefully opening the envelope. She could’ve sworn she paid rent for this month. Alicia couldn’t afford to take more hours with her rigorous course load but clearly she’d need to make adjustments. Maybe an overnight job would work. Inside is a letter from her landlord and an even, more official looking letter. Alicia skims it quickly, eyebrows raising in alarm. There was apparently a new owner of Hudson & Co but Mr. Herrera would still remain her property manager. And…

“For… the next…” Alicia faints. 

This will become a common occurrence in the next two weeks, especially when Alicia Harrison discovers that on top of her rent being paid in full for the next three years, her tuition fees would, also, be handled for the remainder of her degree. When discussing this occurrence with her financial aid advisor, the woman appeared very sweaty (afraid perhaps?) and simply said it was a scholarship and to take the blessing. Alicia fainted then and there!

Alicia Harrison was not stupid but she was panicking! It was even more daunting when her mother reached out to inform her that both of their cars were paid off completely, that she received a lucrative, new position that would finally get them out of poverty, and that her brother’s future school fees had been handled! Alicia strongly considered quitting her job to focus on her studies but she loved her regulars and Dilly, who was always saddled at closing with her. 

But once again, Alicia Harrison was not stupid and it was quickly becoming apparent that whenever she suggested a delicious drink to that handsome man when he’d come in with Liz’s not-man, more miracles would happen! Dilly also started experiencing miracles when she started suggesting incredibly sugary drinks to the handsome man Liz was gagging after. Was it slightly worrisome that these beautiful men likely knew their lives and where they lived, yes. In this economy, Alicia will not argue. If she is murdered, then at least, she knows her funeral will be paid for. 

So Alicia Harrison did what any reasonable person would do and kept her job.

It is years later when Alicia graduates that she receives a curious gift. She is startled as she had not seen those handsome men or their beautiful friends in quite some time. Alicia does think of them often because even without the miracles, they were a strange, funny group! Inside is a check from one Alaric Solo, which is a curious name, and a small letter in neat handwriting.

Thank you for your years of service. Live your life. Do biblical, crazy things.

 

  • Sirius

 

Sirius? Like the star? When Alicia sees the amount, she faints. When the funds are immediately available, she faints once more. 

Thank her lucky star!

Notes:

Find it truly criminal that there is no additional information about the Potter Parents so I fucking made my own, at least for this fic whew. Euphemia Potter nee Rudrapatha is more than Fleamont Potter's wife! I also thought it would be fun to see how the actions of youngest Rudrapatha translated to her oldest child.

alas a blurb:
Hadrian, 8, with bb child James in his arms: I will kill anyone who makes you cry.
James, snotty, does a heccin kiss to his brother's chin: Good Hadsee.
Hadrian, heavily charmed:
Effie, moved to tears:
Monty, suffering and supportive because he is no damn better:

Little did his parents know that Hadrian would go off to just that at the age of 14 :D wild. Euphemia was a proud mama!

edit: so i referenced how a friend of mine references her family. She will never see this, at least god, i hope she doesn't because I cannot be held accountable in real life for the thirsty things i have written. id simply cease to exist.

additional edit: i swear i will stfu after this. Lowkey i think this is set in modern times, hence, starbucks. I will not take criticism. I will now be heading out to buy starbucks.

Chapter 14: Hunter's Moon

Summary:

Even Hadrian makes mistakes.

Notes:

This is not a fun chapter! TWs, blood (so, so much blood), triggering moment because of situation, brief allusions to child abuse, discussions of violence, temporary severe injury

- le Fay lore-ish drop
- Hugin vs a Rudrapatha's Peverell
- Sirius' neverending quest to ignore all the alarm bells
- a bonding moment between buddies *sniffs*
- Siri's happy memories are all dead people and the potters lmao
- Pissy Cassie
- Hadrian "i'm committing seppukku" potter vs james "outraged" potter vs sirius "that sounds gay" le fay

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“You sure you don’t want to come?” James asks, appearing concerned.

Sirius would, honestly, much rather die than be a third wheel to a date with Lily fucking Evans and James fucking Potter. He could already see the heart eyes, the little smiles and jesus, had Sirius not suffered enough at Hogwarts watching James’ loud adoration. If he’s honest, this is a huge improvement and shows his growth as a person because Sirius intimately remembers when James first chose to spend time with Lily over him. That harrowing, nasty jealousy that threatened to choke him completely. He had never been more angry in his entire life. Sirius ignored James for weeks after, betrayed and furious because James was his, why should he share him with anyone.

But Sirius missed his presence too much. It felt like more of a punishment towards himself, a reminder that he’s a second choice then Sirius came back into James’ life and the moment with Snape happened, with Remus, and James was ripped from his grasp once more. So at some point, Sirius just accepted that his best friend had a life, an existence beyond him and that was okay because, well, who was he? James narrows his eyes at Sirius as if he can hear these thoughts. Sirius sniffs.

“Are you being fucking dumb?” James asks. 

“No.” Sirius says firmly. “Go be in love. I’m going to study. Bother my birds and my horse.”

“You better eat at 7.” James’ gaze is hard. “I will know.”

“Yes, deer.” Sirius sighs. “I will eat the designated food Hades left for me and I will eat all of it to avoid the wrath of you both.”

James points a stern finger at Sirius.

“Go.” Sirius laughs, stretching out on the couch. “I will not save you from Lily if you’re late.”

James winces, kisses Sirius on the forehead, and is gone in a sharp pop. The following silence is harrowing and wrong. The house was so empty now. Hadrian was off on a mission, James now whisked away to be insufferable. Sirius supposes he could’ve bothered Marlene but she has an essay to complete for her internship. Snape wasn’t even in Britain. No, Sirius can handle himself and being alone and not encourage lackluster behavior because he’s being a bitch. Sometimes he thinks he’s just lonely, lonely in Grimmauld, lonely in Alphard’s flat, lonely in Remus’, lonely in this little life he’s trying to carve his way through.

Maybe he’s always just been lonely.

Sirius summons one of his family's grimoires, specifically Isolde’s mother’s. Her name was Aurelia and just as active as Isolde had been but where his mother was very hands on with her magic, Aurelia was less direct, stuck to spells that brought destruction and rendered people to the very root with a simple word. Effie would’ve loved her like she would’ve loved his mother. Sirius could see why Arcturus would froth after this match, the possibilities it would hold for Orion’s offspring. He doesn’t think he meets such levels of grandeur but well, he also just got Hugin, just got some control over everything. 

Aurelia had accepted their sentient strand completely, unlike Isolde, but upon her death, that acceptance broke completely. Sirius was curious as to why but it seemed to have likely stemmed from earlier rejections of the magic. Even if Hugin was a vindictive, angry bastard, he wasn’t strong enough to override them completely. A failsafe maybe, Sirius thinks, writing a note onto one of the dog shaped sticky notes he has. Aurelia went through a rigorous ritual that had nearly killed her, which is why she chose to do it after having Isolde. Sirius doesn’t know why or how she passed because it didn’t seem linked to childbirth, obviously, or the denial of Hugin. 

He has continued to consider accepting Hugin completely, doesn’t really see a reason not to but even earlier journals from Aurelia’s mother made him incredibly nervous. A fine balance would need to be struck beforehand and Sirius barely has that. However, his progress does seem hopeful so far but a clock seemed to be ticking in his mind after the experience with those robed people. The Aurors could not get answers out of them for motives of the attack. They simply proclaimed their devotion to ridding the master from its container and subsequently obliterated themselves even with severe core damage. It was unnerving and terrifying.

Sirius not being completely melded with Hugin felt dangerous. He didn’t know if they could actually rip his magic from him but they seemed so certain. Hadrian suggested he ask his magic but oof, how scary.

“I should visit mom.” Sirius mutters, scrubbing his face. He also would be visiting Lucan at Opleque Manor this upcoming week. His grandfather did mention that his nephew would also, likely, be present but his niece would not since she was an “uncouth, frivolous bitch”. The phrasing sent Sirius into a fit of laughter because what the fuck. He also needed to write Lucretia back and Andromeda, who has been demanding that he visit her and that loud, cute child of hers. And Ted, of course, but meh, Ted won’t get wasted on cheap wine with him like Andy would. However, Ted was something to look at.

Narcissa did reach out again, a bit more urgent than her last letter, but Sirius ignored her once more. He doesn’t know why she’s so insistent when they never got on. Narcissa was so dismissive of him, even in childhood in comparison to her sisters. She heavily preferred Regulus’ quiet company, his reserved nature, and was often found in the library with him while Bellatrix would show Sirius the nibbler she dissected and they’d end up fighting until Andy intervened.

Sirius didn’t feel the need to build bridges with her now. If anything, it felt like another ploy, some way to curry favor for that weird husband of hers. And… Sirius just wasn’t interested in what she or Malfoy could offer. He had the Potters, had Cas and Marls and Lily and that felt like enough for him. As far as he was concerned, the majority of the Blacks were dead to him like they always wanted him to be. 

There is a tap on the porch door and Sirius looks up to see Gatsby. He rolls his eyes, waving him inside. This horse. Gatsby strides inside, the doors materializing closed behind him. 

“He said you could come in whenever.” Sirius chastises.

Gatsby huffs, shaking out his mane and squeezes in the space between Sirius’ back and the couch. He curls his long neck around Sirius’ waist, head settling in his lap. Sirius strokes between his ears absently, turning the page of his grandmother’s grimoire. Her handwriting and notes are so neat with a subtle flourish on every last vowel and second consonant, which was peculiar. Sirius frowns, summoning a piece of parchment. He transfers the letters onto the sheet and they begin to glow softly. 

“Does the falcon ponder the lives of the fledglings it devours?” Sirius reads slowly. He flips back to the very first page and there are more minute changes to her writing. Sirius goes through the first few pages again, jotting down each emphasized letter until it all flourishes into additional notes. What is this, Sirius thinks. It's completely in french as opposed to the english Aurelia’s grimoire is written in.

A stone that crowns the summit of a mighty mountain is no different from the one buried at its base, for they are one and the same. As the roots of trees twist beneath the earth, so too do the vines cling to bark and soil, bound by the same relentless pull. But what is a Le Fay without the root from which it was born? What is our magic, if not the very force we have forged from the depths of creation? We are not merely of this world, Isolde, we are beyond it, above it. Be more.

Does the falcon ponder the lives of the fledglings it devours? Does the serpent care for the prey it swallows whole? Even the albatross, whose wings span the endless sea, offers no thought for the sailors drowned beneath its watchful gaze. Why then, should we, the heirs of a forgotten dominion, show any consideration for this world? A world that was ours once, and still should be. The hunter has become the hunted, and our complacency has made us fragile, soft. We have forgotten the blood that runs through us, the marks we etched into the bones of the earth. We have forgotten the fear our ancestors thrived in.

It is time we remembered.

Do not hide, Isla. We are more. You are more, my isle.

A le Fay is not meant to rest in darkness when we are who created it.

Sirius gasps softly. Isolde seemed so proud of her heritage but maybe she always wasn’t. When, exactly, did her mother die, Sirius wonders, turning to the very end of the grimoire, its stark, empty pages. Maybe she died when Isolde was a child, Sirius thinks. He wonders if his mother read these words. Sirius leans back against Gatsby, relishing in his heavy warmth. He didn’t even know a dead horse could be warm but Gatsby was, like a burning piece of fire that sits in a desolate tomb. How curious. He wonders what fear Aurelia is referring to. Maybe they weren’t always such a great house.

There is a sharp pop, followed by the thick stench of blood and Sirius is pushing himself to his feet quickly, nearly toppling over the coffee table, over Gatsby. Shit, he thinks, stumbling into the hallway. Hugin churns readily inside him, thundering in a bristling coil. Sirius waves a hand, light flooding the area and the entryway. He can hear heavy panting, the biting sound of teeth grinding together roughly then he feels it, that sharp temperature drop, that seeping cold. Sirius hurries forward, shoulder catching on the entryway arch and sees Hadrian slumped heavily against the front door.

His magic surges erratically around him like a ghostly chasm, hands grasping at his limbs, blood spreading along the wooden floor. There is a thick smear on the door as if a body was dragged down it. His uniform is a dampening, darker shade of gray. The smell is so intense Sirius nearly gags. He can hear Gatsby behind him and holds out his hand, a ‘wait’.

Hadrian’s head thunks against the door, sickly pale and sweating and when he notices Sirius, his expression cracks with devastating surprise. There’s… there’s so much blood. On his face, his clothes that are torn, his right shoulder ripped up in a shredded suggestion of bone and torn muscle. Sirius steps forward, panicked. 

“No.” Hadrian hisses just as a series of savage cracks surround him in the shape of handprints, his magic pushing forward with a horrible threat of death. Every hair on Sirius’ skin rises in bright fear. It's such a terrifying image, such a horrendous, awful feeling. Hugin surges wildly, bristling in brutal offense and Sirius grabs at him, urging him to hold up, to see. His magic quiets in response, waiting.

“Fuck. F-fuck, I forgot you’d-” Hadrian pants, a low whine of agony following. “Shit. Sorry.”

“What do I do?” Sirius asks hurriedly, swallowing down his fear.

“O-one sec.” Hadrian breathes, haggard and winded. He manages to straighten, face tightening in terrible pain and his magic disappears completely but, in turn, more blood immediately begins gushing out from between the fingers pressed tight against his chest. Hadrian chokes, blinding distress spreading along his features, and Sirius is moving before he can consider anything else. He slams hard to his knees, pressing into Hadrian’s space and what does he do, what does he do. There’s so much blood. What do I do, Sirius thinks, terrified.

“Cas.” Hadrian grits out. “Get. Cas.”

There was no fucking time to get Dorcas. God, it's so much. Wait, wait. He healed Leonard but god, this was so much more. His sweatpants are soaked in blood. Sirius wedges his hand under Hadrian’s, skin drenched with slippery copper and presses hard. Hadrian grunts sharply, eyes widening with a frenzied panic. The wound feels wrong and oozing. This is blood magic, Sirius thinks wildly. Oh, oh no. He needs this gone, needs it out. His magic sparks under his palm and something in the wound bites back, sickly and terrible and Hugin shoves hard, furious, and sucks it out. Holy shit. 

“Fuck.” Hadrian trembles beneath him. He whimpers.

Sirius touches his shoulder lightly and Hadrian flinches hard, shaking his head rapidly. He chokes on a shout. “N-No. God, s-stop.”

“I know. I know. Hadrian. Hadrian, look at me.” Sirius urges desperately. “This needs to come out!”

Hadrian looks at him, face twisted up in pain, eyes red rimmed and he grits his teeth, managing a nod. Sirius grasps the ruined skin as gently as he can and Hadrian grunts, pressing his forehead hard into Sirius’ shoulder, quivering violently. Sirius rubs his thigh soothingly. Hadrian breathes out long and harsh, mustering a tiny, “Do it.” 

Sirius pushes his magic into the wound, feeling Hugin root his talons right into his very being and Hadrian gasps sharply, grasping Sirius with trembling, tight hands, and there is a terrible scream trapped behind his teeth. Sirius hates it. He hates that he’s in so much pain. That biting feeling comes back, sharper and ugly and Hadrian’s voice dies in his throat. Hugin rips the lingering magic out of him with a horrendous squelch. Sirius feels the wound begin to heal with a series of petrichor smelling sparks. A terrifying looking hand seems to slide out of Hadrian’s skin and drapes its boned fingers over the mess of skin. Sirius watches in awe as it mends together like a surgeon stitching up a body.

Holy shit, Sirius thinks.

Hadrian sags heavily against him, shaky breaths brushing along Sirius’ collarbone. Sirius gathers him in his arms, heart hammering hard in his chest. Fuck, what if he wasn’t home? What if he wasn’t here? What would’ve happened? His relief is terrible. Okay, okay, think, blood replenisher. Uhm, pain reliever. Two vials appear beside them, surrounded in feathers. Sirius grasps one of them between his fingers, easing Hadrian back against the door. 

“I need you to drink this.” He says.

“‘s fine.” Hadrian slurs.

“It is not, you fucking idiot.” Sirius snaps. “Don’t make me call your mother.”

Hadrian manages a weak laugh. His hand shakes badly around the vial when Sirius presses it into his hand, nearly dropping it. He slumps against the door, eyelids drooping, and Sirius panics, grasping his face. “Hadrian.”

“Mhm.” Hadrian sighs. He weakly squeezes Sirius’ hip.

“Hadrian.” Sirius urges, taking the potion from him. “Just swallow, alright?”

There is a brief, troubling silence. 

“Ok.” Hadrian breathes. Sirius shuffles further into him, tilting his head back as he guides the potion between Hadrian’s lips. Hadrian swallows hard then chokes with disgusted noise. “Fuck. That’s vile.”

“One more.” Sirius says, encouraged because clearly if Hadrian is making jabs he must not be dying. Thank fuck for that, he thinks, pressing the additional vial into his mouth. Hadrian shudders. Sirius presses his ear to Hadrian’s chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart begin to slow. He waits, panicked then a sharp, hard thud begins to settle into a reassuring rhythm. Sirius almost collapses in relief. He breathes out, straightening back up to see Hadrian’s tight expression. The color slowly starts to come back into his face.

Sirius pants, sinking heavily back on his calves. He feels like crying, might already be crying. Sirius runs a hand over his face, whimpering. Fuck. Fuck. Reframe, he thinks sharply. Ok, Hadrian is here. He is safe. Ok, ok, ok, ok, Sirius breathes. He needs to get Dorcas, there’s blood all over them, god, its on the fucking walls. Why is there so much? His mouth trembles, scrambling to think. Regulus should be safe. I’ll have to find him. God, it's on the walls, she’s going to be so mad, so mad, so mad, so mad- A trembling hand grasps his forearm and Sirius startles badly, shaking.

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Hadrian exhales quietly.

Sirius swallows hard, tears burning his eyes. “Shit. Sorry.”

“‘s my fault.” Hadrian grits his teeth. There are more hands, which is unnerving and, frankly, creepy as fuck, but Sirius watches them work deftly like the strangest set of spiders. There is a snap and Hadrian sighs in relief, sagging further against the door. His eyes crack open, irritated and watery, and he inhales slowly like he’s assessing something. Broken rib, Sirius thinks. Another snap follows and Hadrian slumps completely, eyes slipping closed.

“Gonna pass out. Still alive.” Hadrian sighs then falls eerily silent. His hand slips slowly from Sirius’ hip. Gatsby whinnys softly from the archway. Sirius starts. He had forgotten he followed him.

“Hadrian?” Sirius tentatively touches his face. There is no response but his pulse is much stronger when Sirius checks it. He has so many questions like what happened on his mission, was he successful, is this considered successful. Sirius scrubs his face furiously, sniffling. He grimaces at the blood that smears along his skin. He vanishes it. Ok, Sirius thinks. Cas. 

Sirius tries to conjure a patronus but his mind is so fractured and scared and it won’t work, it won’t work. Focus, he thinks angrily. Sirius forces his thoughts to the first time Orion smiled at him, his immense approval, then the first memory of visiting the Potters, how Euphemia’s hesitant expression melted into such warm acceptance when Sirius nervously greeted her, Fleamont’s approving hand on his shoulder. Then it moves to James’ blinding smile on that first trip on the Hogwarts Express, “it's you and me now. No take backs” then Hadrian with that strange look in his eyes, “oh yes, can’t let you go now” and then Isolde’s bright joy of seeing him, how she says his name with so much love and fondness and he feels their warmth inside of him like a furious ball of adoration. Sirius conjures a patronus, Padfoot’s cheerful grin greeting him. “To Dorcas Meadowes. Uhm, please come to Hadrian’s. This.. this fucking idiot. Please, just come.”

Padfoot barks inaudibly, tail wagging, and he’s gone in a happy flurry of silver. Sirius turns back to Hadrian. Ok. Ok. He slides his arm around his waist, stumbling to his feet with Hadrian draped against him. Fuck, he knew the Potters had height on him but he was not expecting this weight. What were these men made of? Titanium? Gatsby is there immediately to assist, kneeling partially along the bloodied floor and Sirius manages to get Hadrian onto him with Hugin’s assistance. He trails after Gatsby to Hadrian’s bedroom, almost slipping on the blood numerous times but Gatsby simply holds out his head for Sirius to steady himself. 

Hadrian’s room is a direct contrast to James’, obsessively neat and organized in shades of dark green and sand like the rolling hills of some ancient civilization but there are so many pictures of the Potters, of Sirius and James, of James, small and grinning, of James and Hadrian, of Dorcas and a few other people and family Sirius has never met. He gets Hadrian settled on his bed with Gatsby’s help, vanishing the drying blood from their clothes, from Gatsby, and slumps heavily into an armchair. Sirius pushes his face into his hands, mouth trembling, the awful, hot sting of tears in his eyes. He doesn’t know how long he sits there with Gatsby at his side but it couldn’t have been more than a minute before a sharp pop rings through the air, followed by frantic footsteps that pound towards Hadrian’s open door.

Sirius looks up to see Dorcas, disheveled and panicked, her long braids tied back into a haphazard bun. A thick sweater hangs off her shoulders. There is only one sock on her feet. She stumbles into the room, tugging off her rucksack and hurries to them. Dorcas moves to Sirius but he waves her off so she darts over to Hadrian, casting a white mist over him. Sirius doesn’t know what any of it says so he watches her instead, the hard line of her shoulders, how they slacken completely. Dorcas collapses at Hadrian’s side, grasping his hand, expression furious and agonized. She turns to Sirius, softening completely.

“What happened?”

“Is he okay?” Sirius asks. “I gave him a blood replenisher and pain reliever.” 

“Yes. You did good.” Dorcas assures him.

Sirius slumps back in his seat, exhausted. He’s so relieved he nearly starts sobbing. Sirius grasps Gatsby’s head when it presses into his chest, pushing his face into the fine hair of his mane and breathes. He swallows thickly. “I don’t know what happened. He just… He just came here. I think he forgot I’d be here. His… His magic.”

Dorcas hums, knowing. “A failsafe. As you know, Aries takes on difficult jobs, missions. He’s good at them but it can also lead to… this. It rarely happens but when it does, he likes to ensure he’ll take out anyone else in the result if things are too bad. Job comes first, he’d say. Fucking idiot.” She squeezes Hadrian’s hand. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Sirius answers quietly. “He wouldn’t let me near him and when he did… I don’t know, Cas. I feel like I fucked up.”

“You saved him.” Dorcas argues furiously. “His magic can only do so much. I keep telling this idiot he is fucking human.” 

“There was blood magic in his wounds.” Sirius tells her.

Dorcas looks alarmed. “I don’t-I didn’t- Siri, what happened?”

“I sucked it out.” Sirius admits. 

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You what?!”

Sirius flinches. “I didn’t know what else to do. God, I just,” He rubs his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted it out. I wanted him safe. My magic did the rest.”

Dorcas is on her feet, casting another stretch of white mist moving from her wand that slides over Sirius. Her eyes rove quickly over it, frowning. There is a line of purple in the middle that shifts and moves and turns into the shape of a raven, wings spreading along the mist. 

“What is this?” She asks quietly.

“My bird.” Sirius tells her. “He keeps me together.”

“Your.. The magic.” Dorcas says slowly. It is not a question.

“Yeah.” 

Dorcas sighs deeply, waving the mist away. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Go shower. I will keep an eye on this idiot.”

“Thank you.” Sirius whispers.

Dorcas pinches his cheek. “You did good, Siri. I’ll take it from here.”

Her approval feels incredible. Sirius obeys. He takes a shower, rids the entryway, the front door, the hallways of blood because he doesn’t want James to return home and immediately assume the worst. Sirius finds himself back in Hadrian’s room. Dorcas doesn’t turn him away, simply gestures to the armchair he had sat in prior. Sirius drags it closer to the bed and sits. Neither of them say anything but Dorcas seems so shaken and frustrated that Sirius offers her his hand. She takes it. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay there, watching Hadrian, but he must fall asleep at some point because he’s stirring drowsily as he’s tucked into bed. His eyes are crusty and heavy and it’s hard to open them. Sirius can smell James, his cologne, the tiny waft of that nasty ginger dressing he loves so much and Hadrian, all warm amber and sandalwood and the faintest whiff of black tea. 

“I was going to put him down.” James whispers. “I told you to stay in bed, you dumbo.”

“Least I can do.” Hadrian responds quietly. He smooths a hand over Sirius’ hair before moving away completely. 

“I’m going to drench your shit in deer piss and we’ll have a real hunter situation in this house if you don’t go lay the fuck down. I will call maa and then you’ll have to deal with her and a half awake Cassie.”

Hadrian sighs, defeated. “Alright... I didn’t know where else to go in that moment. You know how I get. I had forgotten-I was fucking stupid.”

James makes a low outraged noise. “What- You come home. You always come home. He’s not going to hold it against you. Neither will I. You came back. That’s all that fucking matters.” He swallows audibly. “You’re… Shit, Hadrian. You haven’t been like this in years. How many were there?”

“10, officially. 24, unaccounted for.” Hadrian’s voice is even quieter in response. “It’s done. I was worse before I arrived but it’s done. I found Greyback on my way out. Dealt with him since I was there.”

James inhales sharply. “Hadrian.”

“It’s fine.” Hadrian assures him, dismissive. James must be making that Dad face he makes because Hadrian is pushing back with a curt, “I’m fucking fine.”

“You’re a damn idiot is what you are. If I catch you anywhere near that kitchen, I swear to christ. You’re fucking worse than Sirius.” James spits furiously.

Ouch, how offensive. So controversial yet so brave. But like, how badass. 34 wizards? And a werewolf? I mean, fuck that guy. Wowza, Sirius hums sleepily in approval and a hushed silence falls over the other two. He truly doesn’t understand how they haven’t his room yet but Potters were so hovery when he was concerned which is baffling considering Sirius isn’t the one who dropped into the foyer looking like some weird, broken marionette. There is a soft thwack, like someone’s arm has been smacked.

“You’re being dumb.” James hisses. His voice trembles. 

“I put him in danger. You didn’t fucking see his face.” Hadrian argues back, heated. There is a heavy quiet then his breath hitches, voice breaking. “Fuck.”

“Stop, ok. Stop.” James says quickly, sounding panicked. Sirius would have words about this if he wasn’t half on a banana peel or whatever that muggle phrase is even if he certainly never wants to hear Hadrian Potter make any of the sounds he made tonight ever again. Pain was one thing but tears? Absolutely not. Truly the worst experience of his life, not at all a live, laugh, love situation, which feels criminal. Sirius has been through enough today. Flick him on the forehead, he thinks drowsily. He feels his magic move in response, James’ start of surprise and then, finally, a small, watery laugh. 

Idiot.

Notes:

Mm. MM. Delicious. Ok. I really wanted a chapter that shows a bit more of what Hadrian actually does ehe. Given his failsafe, it is not safe for him to return to the ministry in such a state. His magic would've recognized Cas, however, given that she is the one who helped him create it #besties

I, also, felt like I wanted to make him... more human, I guess. Hadrian isn't perfect but he is a badass and about that life. Could you guess who exactly he was hunting given that Greyback was also there :3c

Additionally, Sirius comments on his lack of control but idk man Hugin has been a good boy since the alley incident :side eye:

Chapter 15: Commitee

Summary:

"We hoped for the best, for a wild life free on the wing; keep calm and carrion, friend" - Katie Fallon

Notes:

Tws, violence! wazzzaaaaaa! scary imagery, hunting related trophies, discussions of hunting, discussions of murder, discussions of death, mention of suicide, the measures of a le Fay, subtle possessive behavior

- James unexpected Father since Mother is sad ™
- Sirius "boundaries" le Fay vs Sirius "No" le Fay
- Stubborn Boulder vs Unbothered Stream
- Hadrian's constant efforts to take care of his things
- Lucan "Lover of sweet potatoes, sharer of fritters" Carrow
- le Fay lore
- Amycus Carrow
- cousin on cousin propaganda (realize now this sounds like incest. it is not. it is throwing hands)
- Hadrian "always pleased with his scary dog" Potter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ok.” James chirps, hands on his hips. “Do you have your bag?”

Sirius sighs deeply. “Yes.”

“Your snacks?”

“Yes.”

“Granddaddy-oh’s snacks?”

“Yes.”

“What about-”

“God, Prongs, please.” Sirius whimpers. “I have things. All the things!”

James pouts. “I want to be sure you’re sufficiently supplied. I think you may be anemic.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Sirius asks, thrown. 

“Not sure. I’ll ask Lils.” James grins and really, this man. He has been pushy recently, likely trying to measure Sirius’ general psyche since the event of Hadrian Potter landing in his foyer looking similar to a twisted version of limbs. James was clearly overcompensating because Hadrian has been distant. Not in a way where he leaves a room whenever Sirius enters like Remus would do when he was upset with him but it was as if he put up a boundary between them now. James noticed, of course he did, and just assured Sirius he didn’t do anything wrong, just that his brother needed to work out the situation, guilt, internally. 

Hadrian had apologized for the situation, still made him food, supplied him with heavy amounts of snacks and dropped his ass soundly at work but he, himself, was just less. Sirius didn’t like it. He felt Big Potter was being stupid but he also could understand that things could’ve, possibly, seriously have gone wrong. Like what if Hadrian hadn’t noticed him, what if he had landed in the living room instead of the foyer. The list goes on and on of possibilities and what ifs and still, Sirius thinks Hadrian is being a big banana. He would’ve addressed this already but there hadn’t really been an opportunity. Maybe he’s started to develop some sort of reliance because he could really use a forehead flick for being dumb right about now.

Sirius has met Lucan Carrow, exchanged letters and all that shit but he was going to his territory, meeting one of the cunt niblings and generally not having a Potter as a conversational cushion. He is slightly panicked. Sirius, also, just missed talking to Hadrian, his subtle ways of showing affection, the enormous amounts of sugar he pours into his coffee. It wasn’t gucci at all as the kids say. Wait, I am a kid, Sirius thinks. No. A legal adult. Mhm. Regardless, Sirius feels a bit rejected. He doesn’t like it but he will respect the boundaries placed because this is what legal, grown people do he guesses. 

Sirius also just thinks he misses the Hadrian he was getting to know, the one who said that Sirius was one of his.

“I will be back in two hours. If I’m not, I don’t know, send a deer.” Sirius throws up his hands. “Gatsby will be there so it's whatever. Pretty sure Umbra already left because I told him he had to share his fritters, little bastard.”

These animals loved sweet potato fritters. Sirius did not understand the hype as he considered them bland and not nearly as good as a candied grapefruit peel or a dehydrated tangerine, which was a recent addition to Sirius’ breakfast and that shit was fire. You could even add it to trail mix!

James’ face softens. “If you need to run away, I can start a fire. I already scoped the manor.”

Sirius glares at him, unfortunately, fond. “Prongs.”

“Pads.” James says happily.

“Ugh. Ok. Fine. Two hours, maybe arson.” Sirius says. “Bye.”

“Bye! I love you! I miss you already!” James calls out dramatically. Sirius flicks him off before closing the front door behind him. He could’ve apparated inside but, alas, he was meeting with Loz, Lucan’s elf, to be transported away. Apparently this adventure would not be noticeable to the muggles because Big Potter has been ward scary recently. Hadrian is sitting on the front steps of the house and he honestly startles the shit out of Sirius.

“Fuck! You’re like a damn wraith.” Sirius hisses, a hand over his heart. 

Hadrian looks over his shoulder at him, lips quirking upwards, and pushes to his feet. “Jay give you your rundown?”

“Please don’t make me go through this again.” Sirius whimpers.

“That’s his job, not mine.” Hadrian huffs, amused.

Sirius considers keeping this conversation simple but the moment is here now so regrets are for future Sirius to experience. Fuck a boundary. He peers up at Hadrian, crossing his arms and lifts his chin.

“You’re being dumb.”

Hadrian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Am I?”

“Yes.” Sirius says curtly. “I get that it was a super scary situation and possible death or whatever but you’re being stupid. And I miss talking to you. Being with you.”

Oh, that last part was not supposed to happen. Sirius’ face goes hot. This is why we consider our words, he thinks. Hadrian does seem pleased, however, if not a bit dour at being chastised. He sniffs, looking away from Sirius’ heavy stare, jaw ticking to one side.

“It was foolish.”

“It’s done.” Sirius argues. “It may happen again. It may not. But I’m still here and if it’s in my power to assist, I will. You could’ve died, Hadrian.”

“You could’ve died, Sirius.” Hadrian turns back to him, pale eyes blazing. 

“I can die at work. I could’ve died in that fucking alley. You’re being fucking stupid.” Sirius argues heatedly. “I get it was risky but that’s what we do, what you do. So don’t be upset with me. Or.. I dunno, I’ll deck you or something. I know Cas already ripped you a new one. Stop being dumb.”

Hadrian rubs his temple. He almost seems amused. “I’m not upset with you, Sirius. Look-”

“Dumb.” Sirius says bluntly. Though he is relieved that Big Potter is not upset with him. 

Hadrian laughs, soft and quiet. “Alright. Alright. I just… It won’t happen again.”

Sirius glares furiously at him. “No. You come back. Always. And stop calling me by my name when I already have a perfectly good nickname, Hades.”

He never thought he’d miss being called fucking Riri of all damn things. 

Hadrian blinks. There is the tiniest glimpse of color on his cheeks. He swallows. “Fine.”

“I’ve already talked with Hugin so the bird is less pissy about the situation.” Sirius sniffs. “So stop being dumb. You’ll offend us. It's like you think I’m weak or something.”

Hadrian’s lips twitch, a spark of delight in his eyes, clearly recognizing his own words thrown back at him.

“Would hate to offend.” He responds, tugging a slim square box out of his pocket. Hadrian gestures at Sirius, who slowly extends his hand, and drops the box into his hand. Sirius is very confused but he does open it when Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him. There is a serpent ring inside that is slowly eating its own tail, an ouroboros. It's made of onyx with the slowly eaten section broken up into a vertebrae of bright silver. This looks expensive, Sirius thinks, frowning deeply. 

“Don’t argue.” Hadrian says. “It will recognize that bird of yours if he gets to certain levels.”

“You’re going to track my magic. Like I’m a baby.” Sirius deadpans.

Hadrian flicks his forehead. “I’m ensuring if you need me, I’m there. Idiot. You’ll be out of my range.”

Oh, Sirius blushes. He slides it on, the strange feeling of fingers sliding through his own and intertwining so sweetly then it's gone. “Your magic is so weird. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Sirius blinks. “I dunno. But it's, like, the opposite of James. More like Effie’s when she’s really upset.”

“I am his brother and her son.” Hadrian smirks. “Maa’s got a better wrap on her emotions than I do.”

Sirius huffs. “It doesn’t feel alive at all.”

“Probably because at its core, it is still black magic.” Hadrian answers simply.

Sirius balks. “Bro, what? Even with the Potter part?”

“For me, yes. Ah, your elf is here.” Hadrian says, turning slightly just as a pop occurs through the wards. A house elf appears, dressed mesmerizingly in a flurry of layered, stark silver robes. Loz is much older than Sirius had been expecting, certainly older than Kreacher, but his eyes are warmer and a brilliant shade of bronze. He dips low at the waist, little hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes. 

“Master le Fay. Master Harbinger.” Loz greets smoothly.

Hadrian pulls a face. “We have talked about this.”

“So we have.” Loz titters, lifting out a hand towards Sirius.

Sirius sends Hadrian a look, moving to him. “This conversation is not over.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Hadrian winks. 

Sirius splutters, it is undignified and terrible. He glares furiously at Hadrian, face burning up, sliding his hand into Loz’s.

Hadrian gives him a chipper wave. “Have fun. Give Lucan my regards.”

Sirius flicks him off and they’re gone in a pop. 

Opleque Manor is somehow everything Sirius expected and everything he didn’t. It is clearly goblin work with the types of material used for the flooring and walls, encased crystals holding the dead remains of ghastly creatures Sirius had never seen before. Isolde mentioned her father did numerous safaris but it was appearing like this might’ve been a family thing because some of these bones are old, nearly ancient. The floors are a strange cherry red that almost appears to be wood but its finely shaped stone. Sirius whistles in appreciation then apologizes immediately because, well, that was rude.

Loz grins at him. “It is excellent, yes?” 

“It really is.” Sirius agrees readily, relieved, as he trails after Loz down the massive entryway. There are two plinths once the entryway breaks to where the manor opens up, containing the harrowing body of what may be a basilisk that stands across another body of what- Actually, Sirius doesn’t really know. It appears to be canine but the amount of heads is all wrong and terrifying. 

“Ah, you have arrived.” Lucan’s voice rings out as he rounds one of the plinths. He’s dressed incredibly plain but still sharp in comparison to when Sirius saw him at the Wizengamot. Lucan also appears much more chipper. “Apologies for my attire.”

Sirius waves him off easily. “If I dressed up for every guest I had, I’d lose my mind.”

Lucan seems relieved. “Robes can be cumbersome. Unnecessary but our world does enjoy their fanfare.”

“Might I ask what this is?” Sirius gestures to the dog creature.

Lucan perks up, excited. “When I was a young lad, my grandfather had a dog named Vanitas. This is Vanitas.” He nods towards the creature. “She had a rare chromosome disorder that gave her five heads as opposed to three as is common for a Cerberus. The fifth did not develop beyond puppyhood. Vanitas passed when I was a teen, defending my grandfather from the basilisk you see before us. She was successful but at a great cost. He wanted to bury her, I felt there were other ways to honor her.”

So much to unpack here. “The ones in the entry hall?”

“My ancestors, your mother’s, and mine.” Lucan says cheerfully, gesturing for Sirius to follow. “Isla did not often join me on hunting parties but when she did, it was a masterful experience. I did the same for Ogle the Terrible when he died during his imprisonment but sent the body off to Ungor, to where he currently resides in Ethiopia. The wixen there are more generous towards Giants. I’m told he has sired many in the last few years.”

Ungor sounds like a little hoe, Sirius thinks. Good for him. He trails after Lucan through the lower level of the Manor, awed by the majestic work all around him. It's like visiting a museum of sorts. There are portraits that line the walls, beautiful descriptions of death and blood that almost seem fairytale-like. Sirius’ eye catches a portrait that hangs over a massive, gaping stone fireplace, surrounded by carved sparrows and vultures. 

Isolde’s youthful grin looks back at him, Aurelia’s hand on her shoulder, mouth curved into a hint of a smile, and Lucan, expression stern aside from the giddy delight in his eyes. Isolde couldn’t have been more than 6 in this, face round with childhood and rosy. Her hair is nearly, entirely, silver which is curious. Maybe through age it changes, Sirius thinks. His mother’s hair now was darker than his own but still the same blackish silver like her mother’s. 

Lucan leads him out to an expansive patio that is decorated handsomely and slightly raised so you could view the rows and rows of massive gardens and trees. An array of dishes sit on a table carved of alabaster. Gatsby is nestled in a thick patch of sun, Umbra perched on top of his back, feathers a brilliant mirage of colors. They both look their way, Umbra trilling out as he flicks his wings. 

“Did you get your fritters?” Sirius asks, amused when Umbra sends him an ugly look. “All I said was that you needed to share.”

Umbra ignores him, clearly sulking, but dutifully flies over when Sirius pats his shoulder. He makes a strange sniffing noise, which is truly baffling, when he settles on Sirius. Sirius rolls his eyes, opening his bag to procure two shrunken containers of fritters. “You get one container. Be nice to Gatsby. He’s an old man.”

Gatsby grunts in approval, wings fluttering as he shifts onto his side. 

“If we eat quickly, we will not have to share with Amycus, Umbra.” Lucan sniffs delicately. “He is due back any moment now.”

This seems to rile Sirius’ phoenix up to great degrees because the shrieking noise couldn’t be considered anything but offended. Lucan nods sagely, gently taking Sirius’ containers of fritters. Sirius takes a seat at the table, watching in confused amusement as Lucan and Umbra portion out the containers’ contents with a skill that clearly comes with fiending behavior. Sirius does turn down any offers, much to Umbra’s glee as he shucks fritters at Gatsby, who catches them lazily with a sharp chomp. 

“I take it your nephew enjoys sweet potato fritters?” Sirius asks.

Lucan huffs. “He only enjoys them because he knows I enjoy them. A contrary bastard considering he is allergic as is his mess of a sister. Loz, please hide the rest.”

“As you command, my lord.” Loz announces with a pop. He has a minute stare down with Umbra, who snatches two more and flies back to Gatsby. Loz sighs deeply and pops away with their hidden bounty. Lucan settles across from Sirius, flicking his hand over his stash and it shifts into the image of mash potatoes. Sirius snorts, amused, and Lucan sends him a speaking look.

“I refuse to be inconvenienced on the day my grandson visits. He can potentially perish on any other day after.” Lucan states evenly. “Ah, speaking of which, I have found the exact verbiage Aurelia used when she decided to destroy the Tullys. I understand you’re not wanting to destroy an entire line but Hugin, as you call him, requires specific instruction or the magic will consume everything.”

Sirius blinks, watching Lucan summon a thin, red leather journal. “The Tullys? The ones with the shoemaker?”

“A bunch of fat fucks.” Lucan sniffs, handing the journal to Sirius. “I assured her I’d handle it but alas, I would not deny your late grandmother a great many things. Her vengeance is one of those.” 

Sirius could clearly see where his mother got her language for one because that statement is exact. “What did they do to insult an le Fay?”

“For one, they had Asli Fischer cast out of his country for witchcraft after he completed his commission for your mother. For two, they called your mother a harlot and accused her of seducing Lord Tully.” Lucan tilts his head. “If anything it was a slight mercy on their parts, your father was not amused. In his younger years, Orion was quick with his tongue but quicker with his wand.”

“Papa did always have a temper.” Sirius comments idly. “He just got scary as I grew up. It was hard to tell when he was really pissed. Then people would disappear and well, live, laugh, love.”

Walburga had truly lucked up in remaining undetected with her plot if Alaric’s suspicions were correct. Sirius didn’t doubt they were. Well, that’s what I’m here for, Sirius thinks absently. If his father couldn’t raise his hand, his son could. Isolde had done enough.

Lucan laughs, startled. “As you say. Your magic feels much more attuned than when I saw you at the Wizengamot.”

“Oof, yeah. We’ve had…” Sirius’ mouth twists. “Did Aurelia ever mention a cult or something to that degree? Mom had mentioned people being after us but…”

Lucan’s expression immediately turns thunderous. A glass shatters. “Tell me everything at once.”

“I’m sure you saw in the Prophet about the dark wizard attack recently on Listel. While, yes, they were dark wizards. They ambushed my patrol. They wanted Hugin.”

“I should’ve foreseen this.” Lucan strokes his chin. He appears deeply troubled. “It is an old sect, centuries upon centuries old but they had been dormant since the le Fay took up the Morvain alias, assured that the last of the line was eradicated but there were a few who had suspicions. This devotion to the cause did not quiet, merely waited as they have since the beginning. They refer to your magic as The Shrouded One.”

Lucan continues, “Aurelia passed when Isolde was 15. It was, for all intents purposes, a suicide. There had been a man who lingered amongst her friend group. His suspicions were too close. He was too close. While Aurelia did not fear for herself, she did fear for our daughter. But this man had no name, not one tied to anything or any family, so what could your magic latch onto?”

Sirius frowns deeply. “The people in the alley didn’t either.”

Just given names. Even verification came up completely blank where a family name would’ve been according to Moody then they obliterated themselves and it was as if they never existed at all. 

Lucan nods, expression severe. “Aurelia accepted Hugin fully when she made her decision. I had found it suspicious but she refused to tell me anymore. Your safety, she had said. Aurelia destroyed many, many lives to get to root yet still they prosper. Aurelia perished in that final fight. Her final request was complete obliviation of any knowledge of our family if any survived. Your magic granted it. Isolde was never discovered. I received her patronus in her last moments. Aurelia le Fay died unmarried with no known children as she intended.”

“A name to a le Fay is a noose around one's neck. This sect knows this.” Lucan levels Sirius with a strange look. “Will you accept him?”

“He’s mine.” Sirius says before he can think. He swallows hard. “If… if she accepted Hugin, then she already knew she’d be outnumbered and they would take him if she failed.”

“That was, also, my suspicion.” Lucan hums. 

“Do you know how she found balance with him?” Sirius asks. “Like, I have our grimoires but even Aurelia’s mother’s experience was different than Aurelia. Her mother mentioned balance but Aurelia completed a ritual.”

Lucan makes a thoughtful noise. “How curious. I didn't know Lisa accepted him. At the risk of sounding foolish, have you asked the strand? It may have different expectations depending on its container.”

“Hadrian Potter asked me the same thing.” Sirius comments, rubbing his face. “I think Hugin knows. He’s just waiting for me to stop being a bitch.”

“You have hesitations.” Lucan says. It isn’t a question.

Sirius nods. God, he really did. What if Hugin said no? What if he didn’t want him? What would happen to Hugin? They were just getting used to each other with nearly 19 years of absence between them, of Hugin feeling betrayed and furious like the magic had spent most of its existence. Sirius had so many questions and he really wished Aurelia was alive so he could just shake her until answers came out. What is it like? What did it feel like? Sirius, also, privately thinks he just couldn’t handle such an immense rejection from his own magic.

“Hold these thoughts.” Lucan sighs deeply, casting a withering look to the patio door that seamlessly opens. Sirius turns, curious, to see, who he assumes, Amycus Carrow striding onto the porch. He has a strange face where you couldn’t really tell if he was mousy or just shrewd. Amycus is older than Sirius was expecting, possibly only a few years younger than Orion. Amycus sizes Sirius up dismissively but bristles when Sirius merely cocks an eyebrow at him, just as unimpressed.

“So this is him then?” Amycus sniffs. “The le Fay? Your heir?”

Shit, if this is him being civil, Sirius would hate to meet his fucking sister.

“As you say.” Lucan states plainly, unbothered. “Are you going to stand there like a poorly made tapestry or am I supposed to introduce you?”

Amycus scoffs, sneering at Sirius. “I’m sure he knows who I am, uncle.”

Mm, that will not do. There was only person who could make such an expression at him and they were likely crying into a cauldron. 

“So I do.” Sirius responds dryly. “You wanna do this now or later?”

Lucan’s gaze snaps to Sirius, curious.

Amycus smirks, crossing his arms. “Oh? I know better than to play with your magic, cousin.”

“Guess I win by default then, cousin.” Sirius says sweetly, gleeful when a vein bulges in Amycus’ forehead. “I thought vultures liked carnage. My mistake.”

Lucan snorts, amused. It’s undignified. “Careful, nephew. If your time with Isolde taught you anything, it would be to, ah. What’s the phrase the muggle children say? Oh, fuck around and find out?”

Sirius turns to him with a gasp, delighted. Lucan winks at him.

“Alright then.” Amycus sniffs. “You’ve caught my attention. Let’s see if you reach even an ounce of the caliber your parents possessed.”

Sirius smoothly rises to his feet. “I certainly do in temper. I must be doing alright seeing as even with a block on my core, I’ve amounted to something before meeting my bird.” Sirius grins, sharp, when Amycus shifts, eyes narrowed. “No take backs, cousin. You’ve caught my attention as well.”

Amycus smirks, a mad glint in his eyes. He trails after Sirius into the open space of the gardens. Gatsby does not move from his place in the sun, sending Amycus a nasty look as if he is the reason he’d have to consider such things, but Umbra does soar off towards Lucan’s outstretched arm. Lucan strokes his chest, sitting back in his chair. There is a small burst of magic that slides over the porch and the gardens, separating them from the rest of the manor. Loz pops in the center, bowing deeply.

“Unforgivables are forbidden,” is all he says before disappearing again. 

Amycus twirls his wand lazily but he does follow basic etiquette of dipping into a polite bow when Sirius does. He studies Sirius closely, visibly curious, assessing, and Sirius watches him back, flicking his wand into his palm, the subtle tension in his shoulders, how his left finger twitches. He had heard many things about Amycus Carrow and his sister, Alecto. Nasty pieces of work, some would say. Masterful skill, others would say as most would say about the Carrows. A committee of vultures resting on a sea of death. 

The air is heavy between them, tense and vibrant. Amycus fires first, hex singing through the air like a whistle. Sirius deflects it lazily, relishing in the downturn of his cousin’s mouth, and flicks his wand, sending a bright burst of silver straight toward him. Amycus has a shield up immediately, the force of Sirius’ spell trembling around it. He counters fluidly, the curse coiling through the air like a twisted serpent. 

Sirius pivots sharply, dodging the spell, heart pounding in his chest. His mind feels strangely clear, like they were just two kids in Hogwarts gauging each other. Amycus is quick, much quicker than Bellatrix for how he fires curse after hex after curse but it lacked the sheer craziness his former cousin possessed. Hugin pounds readily inside him with every deflection, every shield and attack, clawing at his belly, his ribs, and Sirius breathes, feeling that furious hunger burn up inside him. 

Amycus sends a complicated set, graceful and fluid like the very bird of prey his family name represents, but the end is startling. Sirius can see Lucan out of the corner of his eye, how he pushes sharply to his feet, right as a burst of furious, blistering fire spills from Amycus’ wand. It’s stunning, watching how it turns into a majestic image of a vulture before it's swallowed up by a chimera, a feral dog, the roaring lion and Sirius grins widely, eyes widening in delight. He hadn’t seen a fiendfyre since his father. 

“Let me see you, cousin!” Amycus laughs.

Is it terrifying, yes. The heat is intense and terrible but god, such masterful work in such a tight space. Amycus guides the fire around them, how it shifts and coils into a brilliant basilisk that surges towards Sirius. Of us, Hugin hisses in his ear. Anything, Sirius thinks, twirling his wand and magic surges out of the end, shattering the very sound barrier around them as the inky shape of a raven slams right into the basilisk, massive and crackling with shimmering black magic. Its talons hook into the hot flame, beak slamming hard into its throat and Amycus’ eyes go wide with shock, his focus slipping for just a second and the basilisk’s head splits almost into the exact image of hydra. 

Sirius pushes back hard, sweat stinging his eyes. Of us, he hisses in his mind and there is a snarl so deep, so innate and right that it makes his heart stutter. The raven’s body spasms, shifting into some grotesque morph of canine and avian features, beak spreading into the long curve of snout with rows upon rows of jagged teeth with a mouth that glows blue fire. Talons surge out of its scruff, snatching one head as it bares down like a deity of old, all crackling lightning as it surges forward. The hydra fights, scrambling scorched earth beneath its burning body as those teeth sink into the base with a sound that feels like earth breaking apart. 

A series of wings sprout from this strange form, dragging the fire from the very ground as it sweeps towards the sky. Amycus’ wand is ripped from his grasp in response as they disappear amongst the clouds. A harsh clap of thunder rings through the air before ash begins to tumble from the sky. Sirius pants, awed, nearly slumping to his knees when crumbling remains careen back down to them. It never makes it, dissolving on the wind, but that creature appears once more, terrible and shrouded and mine, Sirius thinks. Mine. Mine. Mine. He opens his arms as it barrels towards him like a sweeping crawl of whispers and turns into a small, corporeal form of raven just as it reaches him. Hugin perches on his finger, beady eyes staring back at him, earnest and questioning. Sirius strokes his fat, little head.

“Perfect, Hugs.” He says.

Hugin dissolves with a pleased kak, chest puffed.

“Fuck.” Amycus whispers, clearly awed.

“Neat, isn’t he?” Sirius grins. He wipes his face with his shirt. “Fuck. That was incredible. God, I haven’t seen one in so fucking long. Who taught you?”

Amycus startles, swallowing. “Orion.”

Damn, Sirius thinks. His father said he wasn’t old enough to learn such things. “At least, one of us did. You gotta show me.”

Amycus startles, again, but appears heavily pleased. He rubs his nose with his thumb. “Alright, cousin.”

“After you mend my garden, you damn miscreant. Couldn’t you bond in any other way. Heaven’s help me. If I wanted this amount of drama, I’d have invited your blasted sister.” Lucan’s voice rings out. Amycus rubs the back of his head, embarrassed.

Sirius turns towards his grandfather and startles upon noticing Hadrian standing on the patio, arms folded across his chest. The apron covered in bambis does nothing to distract from how menacing Hadrian’s gaze currently is. His expression is wild and pleased. Sirius sulks.

“Oh, man. More homework?” God, Crowe was going to be insufferable.

“Oh, yes, Riri.” Hadrian grins madly.

Lucan simpers around a cup of tea.

Notes:

wala! Cool. Cool. So next chapter is... I think a list of prophet articles? it can also not be. I know this is not everyones cup of tea hurhur. I havent checked my notes so im rawdoggin this.

Hugin seems to be mighty morphing a lot. sus. I also wrote a really thirsty chapter so this feels like a palette cleanser. Hell.

Gatsby, still literally lying there as chaos happens around him, unmoved and rolling on his back.
Inside Gatsby’s head, remembering the first time Amycus made a snide comment to Isolde and she punched him so hard he shifted into a roach.
Gatsby, thrilled, also thinking "im already dead" lmao

also while I do know Amycus Carrow is a *flips wrist, does a nae nae* cunt. I wanted more than cunt! Well rounded cunt! Yes!

Chapter 16: A Collection of Reports and Letters

Summary:

The calm before a storm.

Notes:

Tws, possibly manipulative behavior, references to infidelity

Strikethrough Prophet: canceled, removed articles
Strikethrough Letters: Wards or refusal of owl

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Blood Feud Declared: House of Carrow Against House of Black

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

London: In an unprecedented turn of events, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Carrow has formally declared a blood feud against the illustrious House of Black. This conflict follows the controversial disownment of the eldest son of Walburga and Orion Black, formerly known as Sirius Black. In a shocking revelation, sources have confirmed that Sirius Black has taken on the le Fay name and aligned himself with the House of Carrow, a move that has sent devastating ripples through the aristocratic circles of the wizarding world.

Yes, my dear readers, you read that right! This reporter was present during Lord le Fay’s emergence into the limelight as none other than Sirius le Fay! Not only is the former Black heir not just a Black at all but a hidden member of a formidable dark house that was none other than connected to the Morvains! Yes, dear readers, yes. I will not bore you with the details but I shall tell you the acceptance of magic I experienced in Lord le Fay’s announcement turned my blonde hair even more ash! 

The Wizegamot was even more shocked upon the revelation that Lord Carrow had not only sired a le Fay but Lord Yaxley confirmed such findings with his powerful statement of the Morvains being le Fay! We have all been very curious as to how Lord Carrow would respond to such an offense against his only grandson and now we have it.

The blood feud, steeped in ancient tradition, allows for both Houses to settle disputes by magical means, bypassing the conventional courts. Relations between the Blacks and Carrows have been strained since the passing of the late Orion Black, but this public and violent split signals a new, dangerous era for both families.

While Regulus Black, now Lord Black, remains silent on his brother's new allegiances, whispers of deeper conflicts plague the House of Black. What does this mean for Sirius le Fay’s standing in society, and how it will affect his relationship with his former younger brother, Lord Black? As tensions continue to rise, the Wizarding world watches with bated breath, awaiting the next dramatic development.



Immense Loss for the House of Black: Regulus Black Declares Sirius No-Name An Enemy

By Barnabas Cuffe, Editor-in-Chief

In a heartbreaking twist for one of the oldest pure-blood families in existence, the House of Black has suffered a devastating internal rupture. Sources close to the family report that Regulus Black, now officially Lord Black, has disowned his elder brother, Sirius Black, in what appears to be an irreparable schism.

This shocking declaration was made just weeks before Sirius’ alignment with the House of le Fay, a move that outraged traditionalist circles. Though the two brothers have long been rumored to be on opposite sides of the ideological divide, the formal separation has only escalated an already volatile situation. Sources suggest that Regulus felt betrayed by his brother’s actions, forcing his hand in removing Sirius from the family tree.

The consequences of Sirius Black's disownment stretch beyond mere family politics. It has ruptured long-standing alliances within the pure-blood circles, triggering a blood feud with the House of Carrow. Now, the Blacks, once one of the most powerful families in wizarding Britain, stand at a crossroads, torn between loyalty, tradition, and deep familial loss.

The Wizarding world mourns with Lord Black, even as rumors continue to circulate about the true cause of Sirius' departure and his ties to the House of le Fay.



Lord Carrow,

Subsequent titles are no longer permitted as requested. We sincerely apologize for the offense. Barnabus Cuffe has been removed from his position.

Sincerely,
Minister Bagnold
Minister of Magic




Fleamont Potter Issues Stern Warning to Those Who Threaten Sirius le Fay

By Lydia Caldwell, Daily Prophet Correspondent

In a rare public address, Fleamont Potter, head of the venerable Potter family and recent proxy for the Imperial House of Peverell, has spoken out in defense of Sirius Black, now known as Sirius le Fay. With tension rising in the wizarding world following the revelation of Sirius’ ties to the Imperial House of le Fay, Fleamont Potter made it clear that any harm directed towards his son, James Potter’s brother in all but blood, would not go unanswered.

“Sirius is more than a friend to my son. He is family. My boy as he had been family since the day he set foot in our home,” Fleamont declared in an exclusive interview. "The House of Potter does not forget its own, and it most certainly does not abandon them in times of need."

Fleamont’s voice, typically warm and genial, took on a decidedly dangerous tone as he addressed those who might seek to harm or undermine Sirius le Fay. “Make no mistake. Anyone who dares to act against Sirius will find themselves dealing with me. I’ve seen enough of these petty blood feuds to know they lead only to ruin. But if anyone thinks for a moment that they can strike at Sirius, they will face the full weight of House Potter, House Peverell and House Rudrapatha’s wrath.”

While the Potters are known for their fairness and loyalty, Fleamont’s reputation as a brilliant and determined businessman precedes him. His words carry weight, and his warning was not one to be taken lightly. Readers may not recognize the House of Rudrapatha but this reporter does. Euphemia Potter nee Rudrapatha is the youngest of a powerful coven hailed from India said to be soaked in black magic. When this reporter showed her expression towards such a name. Fleamont’s eyes flashed with unspoken menace as he concluded, “Careful. I won’t take such offense towards my wife but I am a mercy in comparison to Euphemia. Adversity is nothing new.”



Janus Lestrange Responds to Sirius Black's Revelation as le Fay: "A True Return to Power"

By Selene Ashworth, Daily Prophet Staff Writer

Shocking turn of events! Janus Lestrange, a formidable figure among the old pureblood families, has weighed in on the recent announcement of Sirius formerly Black aligning with the House of le Fay. The Lestrange family, known for its fierce protection of pure-blood traditions, has kept largely silent on many matters involving the House of Black beyond Rodolphus Lestrange’s recent betrothal to Bellatrix Black, until now.

"To see Black be revealed as a le Fay is... significant," Lestrange commented when approached at a private gathering in Knockturn Alley. "The le Fays are an ancient line, as old as magic itself. While many have forgotten their true power, the resurgence of such blood can only be welcomed. le Fay’s return to his rightful heritage has upset some, no doubt, but to those of us who understand the importance of ancient bloodlines, this is a true call to power. I almost pity those he considers enemies."

Lestrange's remarks seem to highlight a subtle shift within the pureblood elite. While the Black family has long been regarded as one of the most influential, Lestrange's words suggest that Sirius' alignment with the le Fays is more than a mere scandalous departure. It signifies the restoration of a legacy that could threaten the dominance of other ancient houses.

Lestrange had strangely laughed when asked how the late Arcturus Black would’ve responded to such a scandal involving his grandsons, “I’m sure my late friend is tossing and turning in his grand bed beyond, displeased, to not be able to see such a sight himself."

It remains to be seen how other prominent pureblood families will react to this sudden shift in power, but Lestrange’s approval suggests that the tides may be turning in Sirius’ favor, especially as he steps further into his new identity.



Sirius le Fay sighted in Diagon Alley with Potter Heir and the Harbinger of the DMLE

By Franklin Quill, Senior Reporter, Daily Prophet

In the midst of the recent chaos surrounding Sirius le Fay’s official declaration as a member of the imperial House of Le Fay and Lord Carrow’s subsequent response, Lord le Fay was recently seen in Diagon Alley with none other than those of House Potter. 

Sirius le Fay, formerly of the Black family, was seen strolling casually through Diagon Alley in the company of none other than the Potter Heir, James Potter, and older brother, Hadrian Potter, as many know as the Harbinger of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and recently announced Peverell Heir. This house announcement certainly makes sense to this reporter! The trio appeared unbothered and carefree despite the undercurrents of political upheaval.

When approached by this reporter for commentary about the recent development between the House of Carrow and the House of Black, Lord le Fay offered a single, cryptic remark: "You should’ve seen my mother," followed by a youthful grin that left many questioning the deeper meaning behind his words.

Curiously, this quip, also, comes in the wake of multiple demolishments of ancient Black properties, properties once steeped in the traditions of the House of Black. Some suspect that le Fay’s words may be a nod to his late mother, Isolde le Fay, who passed years ago under mysterious circumstances. Her incredible legacy as a blood mage, under the name Yusura Morvain, continues to evoke fear and awe within pureblood circles, and one can only speculate on the full breadth of the power Sirius le Fay has inherited.

However, it was not the unpredictable le Fay lord alone that caused a stir. His companion, Hadrian Potter, the Harbinger of the DMLE, drew palpable tension with his cold, imposing presence. A man known for his unflinching enforcement of the law, Potter's mere proximity served as a silent warning to any who might consider approaching Sirius and his younger brother, James, with less than noble intentions. Several witnesses claimed the atmosphere grew thick with discomfort when the Harbinger fixed them with his gaze. The threat possessing such a gaze felt unmistakable to this reporter!

As the Black estate continues to collapse, both figuratively and literally, and with the ancient properties reduced to rubble, many wonder how deeply involved Lord le Fay is in the destruction of his former family’s legacy. The situation raises more questions than answers, and though some speculate, only one thing is clear. Sirius le Fay is forging his own path, without them.



Regulus Black’s Official Response as Lord Black

Statement issued by Regulus Black, Lord Black

As delivered to the Daily Prophet via trusted House Elf.

"The recent developments regarding my disowned brother, Sirius, and his self-proclaimed connection to the House of le Fay are of no concern to the House of Black. Sirius was formally disowned by this family, and I, as Lord Black, affirm that decision in full. The House of Black will not acknowledge the claims of a traitor who has forsaken his blood and family for lesser ambitions.

Sirius has long chosen his path. The House of Black will move forward, standing as a beacon of purity and strength, unshaken by his reckless decisions. The destruction of Black properties is merely the severing of ties with a wayward son, symbolic of our house's fortitude in the face of continued betrayal.

The alliances forged by the House of Black remain strong, and our reputation untarnished. We will not allow the spectacle surrounding Sirius le Fay to detract from our legacy. Let this serve as a reminder to all: the House of Black will endure as it always has, while those who have long abandoned it will fade into irrelevance."



Dear Wormtail,

It’s fine. You know how Prongs gets whenever Sirius is involved. We’re doing fine. I think now that Reg doesn’t feel hidden or cast aside, he’s improved in general. He did get into it with his mother recently over the whole disownment thing again. 

I’m applying for different research positions. I don’t think Sirius was responsible but who knows how his mind works sometimes. Has he responded to any of your letters? I’ve been trying since he left but… no answer. Reg doesn’t know. I don’t plan on telling him. He’s stressed enough with his cousins and aunt. I feel bad for him. You know how much all this lordship meant to Reg and the Prophet talks about Sirius.

I can’t wait until we move on from this.

Moony



Pettigrew,

Have you talked to Lily? Or Marlene? I’ve reached out to them but they don’t seem to be accepting owls so I sent a letter to Alice. Apparently, she’s seen them recently. It pisses me off. I thought we were friends but they’re completely icing me out! 

Let me know,

Mary



Sirius,

How long are you going to keep this up? Talk to us, Pads. We’re Marauders.

Peter



Padfoot,

I know you’re getting these letters. Just respond, yeah?

Wormtail



Pads,

I know you don’t want to hear from me but… Sirius, please answer me. I just want to know you’re alright. 

I miss you so much.

Moony



Pettigrew,

Stop messaging me. Fuck. Off.

James Potter

Heir to the Most Noble House of Potter



Sirius,

Please just answer. Please. Please. (writing illegible)

I miss (illegible) much.

Remus



Lupin,

Fuck off.

James Potter

Junior Trainee | Auror Department | Department of Magical Law Enforcement



Letter sent to Peter Pettigrew in response to recent correspondence via Howler:

I’ve been polite since you were once a friend of my kid brother. This ends now. If I catch you in my department again, I will fucking eradicate you. Leave James alone. Leave Sirius alone. This is a courtesy.



Letter sent to Remus Lupin in response to recent correspondence via Howler:

(Entirely full of dark laughter and no words)

Notes:

Ehe. So next chapter will contain Sirius' answer... in general. He will be responding out of hurt and fury, which lbr is his general MO. Tbh they should've just let sleeping dogs lie :shrug:

It will not be a fun chapter buuuut I'm at peace with it and I wanted to show y'all what a le Fay's request looks like.

I think Huggies will be most pleased with his container, like this may be the final push he needed to be like ahhh, this is mine :side eye: Possessive magic? to an equally, possessive dog? wild. match made in hell.

Chapter 17: This Dog Bites

Summary:

"I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you, I won't wait for you. I bite." - Chief, Isle of Dogs

or Sirius hits his limit.

Notes:

Tws, Peter fucking Pettigrew, blood, violence, lowkey infidelity blaming(???)

- When the wrong person tries to tell you you aint shit
- A bold rat vs a rabid dog

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Sirius, you’ve got a visitor.” Leonard’s voice rings out. 

Sirius hears him, of course he does, but he is preoccupied by the runes Silas Vance is carving into a set of knives. Silas hums, questioning, and Sirius makes low noise of confirmation. It was amazing to see Silas work when he wasn’t rushed or being generally sloppy but apparently he had never worked with knives before and demanded Sirius assist him. I’m a gunman, Silas had quipped. Little Captain said they make too much noise so I made him a rifle but I want to improve. Show me now. 

“Go on, Little Wraith.” Silas sits back heavily in his chair, stretching wide and long. 

Sirius glares at him, pushing himself up. 

Silas sends him a sunny grin. These fucking men and these nicknames. Sirius turns to Leonard, who appears frustrated, arms crossed tight against his chest. There is a vein bulging in his forehead. Sirius immediately tries to see if he’s done anything wrong beyond making Leonard eat mussels and comes up short. Sirius makes his way towards him, lifting a questioning eyebrow, and Leonard shakes his head, pushing off the doorframe. 

“I couldn’t find Captain but dude wouldn’t take no for an answer. He caught me in the hallway.” Leonard sniffs, heading down the hall.

Sirius trails after him, curious. He doesn’t get visitors often, mostly because everyone was at their internships and generally respectful of his own time unless it was Marlene, who had busted into the training room quite literally to declare they were visiting the french cafe down the street because she wanted jambon beurre. Crowe found Marlene hilarious while Hadrian would just glare weakly at her then demand they bring back something, which Sirius did. So maybe it was for the entire department, it’s not like he was fucking broke. Plus apparently feeding people was a good way to earn friendship and keep his seniors happy!

Leonard moves to stand beside one of the empty training rooms. “I put him in here.”

“Do you know who he is?” Sirius asks.

“Peter, I think. Said he was a friend-” Leonard winces at the frustrated expression Sirius makes. “Oh, sorry. You want me to stay?”

“Uhm, no it’s fine. Thanks.” Sirius responds, slipping inside. His hackles were already raised upon entering, a swell of hot fury churning in his stomach. Sirius closes the door behind him, leaning heavily against it, and struggles to get his expression together. “What do you want, Peter?”

Peter Pettigrew looks as he always did, frumpy and sloppily dressed in an ill fitting suit that’s far too long on him. It is hard to see the wide eyed joy of the boy he grew up with in this shrewd, little man before him. Peter plasters on a genial smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He seems exhausted, skin sunken with fresh acne scars that only occurred when Peter was particularly stressed.

“I’ve written you several letters but they keep getting returned all of a sudden.” 

“Can’t imagine why.” Sirius sniffs. 

Peter huffs, hands on his hips. “C’mon, Pads. Hasn’t this gone on long enough? I get it. It was fucked up what Moony did but you fucked up first. Are you going to keep punishing him?”

Sirius bristles. “Seems like the perfect timeline to me. After all, you both ignored my existence for an entire year when I fucked up.”

Peter sighs deeply, like Sirius is being difficult. “You broke his heart, Padfoot. So this was overdone on his part but you almost made him a murderer. This is pale in comparison.”

“And Lupin helped take everything from me. I don’t see your point so get to it.” Sirius says curtly.

Peter blinks. “Not everything. You’re a le Fay now.”

“Ah, yes, how could I forget. Such incredibly fucking news to find out I wouldn’t waste away like some beaten down mutt because Regulus, who has been fucking my now ex boyfriend the entire time we were together, happened to not know that his cunt of a mother wasn’t mine. I’m fucking thrilled.” Sirius spits. “Great news! On the cusp of my fucking father dying in front of me and working through that on my damn own because Remus didn’t understand why I was mourning my bastard of a father, I get to find out that my entire line is dead. My mother. Dead. Rotted in the fucking ground. Such marvelous, goddamn news.”

“He didn’t know-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. Fuck Lupin. Fuck Black.” Sirius meets his stare heatedly. “And fuck you. What? Are you here because his little wolf is having a hard time every moon without James there? Without me? Is ickle, baby Lord fucking Black too much of a damn posh bitch to roll around with the werewolf he was bedding in that runt of a kitten costume he has? Fuck off.”

“That isn’t fair, Sirius.” Peter argues, eyes a bit wild. “We can work through this. You’re even now-”

“Even? Even?” Sirius lets out a sharp laugh. “My family is fucking dead! He has Hope and Lyall. Remus has wonderful, alive, fucking parents! Even if he had nothing, he’d have them. He…” He swallows hard. “He would’ve had me. I would’ve done anything for Remus. What happens to Lupin now has nothing to fucking do with me.”

Peter shifts nervously. “He did love you, Sirius. He loved you for so long and you spit it back in his face with Snape. You brought this on yourself.”

Sirius laughs, eyes burning. 

“Ah. And now he has brought this on himself. He didn’t save me. The Potters have, twice now. Before I ran away Marlene had, Severus fucking Snape had. I’m not saving him. I’m done. I’m done with all of this.” He pushes off the door, pulling it open. Sirius needs to get Peter out of here because the bird is not amused with his former friend and is growing more and more furious with each second. “Don’t come back. We have nothing to talk about.”

“God, I can’t believe you’re still being so fucking selfish.”  Peter hisses angrily. “He lost his research position, his pack, and still you’re-”

“That’s all he lost! He could’ve never taken me back. He could’ve done anything else and it would’ve been punishment enough! I don’t care if this isn’t what was meant to happen. It fucking happened! I lost my entire goddamn life!” Sirius snaps, furious and aching and fuck. “Do you know what a fucking disownment feels like? Do you know how it feels to have your entire fucking soul torn apart and ripped out of you?”

That frantic agony he had felt once Regulus was done speaking. How his skin sizzled and burned like his very organs were boiling trapped beneath his bones. How he felt losing Melania, Arcturus, Alphard, Orion all over again, knowing that he will never be able to rejoin them in the sky, knowing he could never call for them again. Peter takes a shaking step back as Sirius turns completely towards him, the door handle smoking under his palm, magic darkening the room around them and his fury just builds and builds and builds.

“You already tried your luck with James and Marlene. You even reached out to Hadrian. Does he know you’re here, Peter?” Sirius chuckles darkly at Peter’s paling expression, how his mouth scrambles for excuses. “Oh? Didn’t know I knew? They were all mine first, you fucking vermin. You come into my job. My space with some fucking wah wah bullshit. Fuck. Off. You can all rot.”

Hugin rears with an unspoken request, demanding and terrible and Sirius slumps into it, frighteningly calm and…tired. He’s so tired like all his anger, his hurt, has been sucked out of him. The hollowness is terrifying but it's not nearly as bad as the bridled rage that fills him completely right after. 

Peter bristles, ugly anger blotching his face. “Regulus was right. He’s always been a better choice for Remus. You have no loyalty to anyone but your fucking self. You ruin everything you touch. Your family. Your relationships. You shattered our friend group once more and refuse to take any responsibility like you always fucking do.”

Peter keeps going and going and Sirius isn’t really sure what exactly he’s saying. It just sounds like a terrible noise. How was this his fault? How was any of this drawn out, complicated mess any of his fault?

Sirius swallows hard, frustrated tears spilling from his eyes. Ah, strike one, Peter Pettigrew joins the list of Marauders who have made Sirius le Fay cry. He looks down at his hands, how his magic ripples subtly under his skin, demanding, asking, promising that it'll give him everything and anything. Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want like a chant that courses through his being. It makes Sirius’ head spin, dizzy with power, delight. What do I do, he thinks. A tiny bead of blood pools from his palm and rises. Ask, his magic coos. His mind ripples with a flicker of images like scenes from a terrible movie. 

Walburga telling him he’ll never amount to anything, how she had already won against Orion, her name beside his core block, his leech as she had always been. Then it's Regulus shoving him in the dark halls of Hogwarts, how he sneered down at Sirius when he fell over, still broken, still healing from their mother, and said where you belong. The graphic images of Sirius’ disownment passing over his eyes like a car crash, every snide comment, every sneer replayed alongside it over and over and over again. And at last, Remus, standing before him in stoney silence, in finality like the executioner before a hanged man… again. Mean streak a mile long. Who could’ve expected it? Their words all collide together, always against him, always cutting too deep and too wrong and- Fuck all of you, he thinks furiously.

Sirius grits his teeth, cutting Peter’s tangent off sharply. “To the very womb that carried Regulus Black and no further, may it all rot to the very last cell in his body. May he fail his house as he claims I have failed him. Walburga Black’s magic will feed the house of those left behind, wasting in the very hands that wasted my father. May every Black” He spits. “Feel every ounce of contempt they felt for me returned back beyond Lucretia Prewett nee Black, Cassiopeia Black, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, Dorea Potter nee Black and their spawn born from the blood of their mothers. Give me this house. May it rot.”

His magic pulses ravenously with every word, that bead of blood swirling and swirling. 

He swallows hard, hands trembling into fist. “Bind Remus Lupin to Regulus Black, may they dissolve together in the very pit they have created together. May they feel as I felt in the moments before my disownment and during. May it be as slow and as agonizing. Live long as it is all I will allow you. The title of Lord Black dies with Regulus Black.”

“Sirius..” Peter takes a stumbling step back.

Sirius steels himself, burning and furious as he stares into the rapidly paling face of Peter. “Do as you will with Peter Pettigrew. May he never be able to speak a word of this occurrence to any he considers friend, foe, or family. This is the last time he exists in my sphere of influence. Be as I say so mote it be.”

The blood sparks, melding into the shape of a raven with dripping wings that feed back into itself. The raven rears up with a silent cry, wings spreading through the air and it rattles the room around them before taking off in a flurry of red. Hugin surges in response, pulsing with vibrant sincerity. Sirius sways into the feeling, the violent, rapid demand for everything. He feels paper thin and shaken and incredible, feeling the exact moment Hugin hooks his teeth into their very souls.

As you say.

Walburga Black’s hands shake around the book in her hands, a wretched gasp trapped in her throat. She stumbles forward, knocking over a series of bookstacks, legs buckling beneath her, bones growing brittle and weak. Sweat beads along her forehead, sizzling and wrong and she can’t breathe, can’t breathe. A hand touches her arm and Walburga flinches back, mustering a sneer at the apologetic teller who backs up, eyes roaming over her face with frazzled panic. Her left knee snaps, bone sliding from tendon with a sickening noise. Walburga Black collapses to the ground. Walburga Black will never be able to stand again.

As you say.

“Will you be back tonight?” Regulus Black asks, absently stirring a cup of tea. He looks up from his book to see Remus Lupin frozen in the doorway of their bedroom, hands trembling and white knuckled on his sweater. His eyes are wide, frantic, sparking molten gold and a devastated noise escapes his lips. Regulus pushes to his feet, alarmed, and is brought hard to his knees by a sharp, visceral pain in his abdomen. He manages a weak wheeze, blood coating his throat and tongue.

As you say.

12 Grimmauld Place is on fire. 

As you say.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is, also, on fire. 

As you say. 

Sirius nearly collapses to his knees, mind snapping back into his own. His face is wet as is his hair, his body. The world is frozen around him. He touches his skin absently, sluggish like he’s just wading through a dream and maybe that’s all any of this was, a bad dream, a terrible one. There’s blood on his hands, always blood on his hands, his own, Severus Snape’s, his father and now he’s destroyed more lives out of hurt- No, Sirius thinks. Be bold, his father would say. Be more, his mother would say. Of us, his magic says, a throbbing, hungry thing, and Sirius stares at his reflection, who stares back with the earnest eyes of his raven. Let it rot, Sirius agrees and his reflection breaks open so splendidly into a familiar, wide grin. 

The world exists once more. His face is clear as is his mind. 

Peter grabs at his own chest, agony rippling across his face. “Pads-”

“Ah. Guess you thought I was fucking around.” Hadrian’s voice rings out. 

Sirius doesn’t startle, turning slowly away from an ashen Peter to see Hadrian standing in the doorway, expression murderous. His pale eyes are stormy, jaw locked hard to one side like James’ does when he’s especially pissed. He hesitates, brow furrowing and his gaze flickers to Sirius, curious. Elias stands behind him, unsympathetic to Peter’s wounded stuttering, and simply gives a lazy shrug that is a direct contrast to the sharp smile spreading across his face. 

“You heard Little Captain. I’d recommend leaving before you’re removed.” Elias says cheerfully. “We both know where you work and who you work for. I know, for a fact, that Nestia Hurbert would love to know how you managed to get into this facility without clearance and better yet without floo authorization. Madam Edgcombe is going to love this.”

Hadrian moves to stand in front of Sirius, gesturing plainly to the cleared doorway. Sirius can see Leonard nervously coming to stand beside Elias. He shoots Sirius a set of thumbs up, which suggests why Big Potter and Elias were here. Sirius manages a grateful look, slumping heavily against the wall, and Leonard grins, pleased. Peter takes a limping step forward, hand still clutched to his chest, and Hadrian decides that he’s had enough, flicking his hand. Peter disappears into a dark hole with a shrill noise. It snaps closed. Hadrian sniffs, dismissive, turning to Sirius and moves to flick him on the forehead when he stops suddenly, eyes widening. 

Elias straightens, pushing more into the room. “We got it from here, Jenkins.”

“Is.. Is he ok?” Leonard asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Elias says, assuring, and closes the door behind him. 

“Sirius.” Hadrian prompts carefully.

Sirius sinks to the floor, hands shaking in his lap as more and more images flash before his eyes. It's too much, it's awful and great. Bitter grief rips through him with a savagery that could only be his own. His magic pushes the images away, burrowing under his ribcage and pulses in a steadying beat. Sirius’ breath hitches, trying to breathe, and his magic presses again, pulsing and pulsing. It feels different than usual, less frantic. Sirius grits his teeth, tears spilling from his eyes. He presses his forehead hard into his knees, agonized. It was already over, had been since his disownment, but god, it still hurts so much. Sirius sobs, in relief, in regret, in acceptance. 

A hand smooths along his hair, his spine, firm legs bracketing Sirius where he sits on the ground. “What the fuck is happening?”

“He completed a request.” Elias responds quietly. 

Hadrian inhales sharply. “That fucking- Alright. Jay will likely be storming his way over here since he’s almost on lunch.”

Sirius manages a watery laugh, forcing his head up. His mouth trembles. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Idiot.” Hadrian sniffs, gently wiping his face. 

“Where’d you put Pettigrew?” Elias asks. “I can hunt down Crowe if I need to.”

Hadrian turns to him. “Nah, Pettigrew is currently in Moody’s line of sight with a little note mentioning unauthorized access to the Academy and his current position as a receptionist in the Department of Magical Transportation. Hurbert is storming her way to the Auror Department as we speak.”

Elias whistles in appreciation. “I’d say sucks to be him but I don’t fucking care. You look like Lisa, Siri.” 

Sirius can not go through this again. His question is curt. “Am I ugly?”

Hadrian flicks him hard on the forehead with a sharp hiss of disapproval.

“Hell no, but holy fuck.” Elias says excitedly. “He accepted you! You must’ve agreed.” 

Oh, well, that’s great, Sirius thinks absently. A win for an otherwise terrible, bad, no good day. He also thought Hugin would want… someone way more put together and generally less of a mess. A feathered hand surges out of him and, also, flicks him on the forehead. You little shit, Sirius thinks, delighted. His magic coos in response. He is grateful that the strand still seems to be… present. It would make talking to himself more worrisome and he would miss Hugin desperately. His weird bird that sometimes becomes scary things but still likes head rubs and forehead kisses like the little bastard he is. Hadrian makes a pleased noise, nodding seriously. 

“Hold him accountable, Hugin. He’s a fucking idiot.”

His magic swirls happily in response.

“Hey!” Sirius gasps, offended.

Elias rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Surprised he stuck around. My da worked with Lisa le Fay waaay back in the day when he still had knees. Said the magic was unnerving but contained. You don’t feel like that.”

“Who else am I supposed to have 2am conversations with?” Sirius asks dryly. “Gatsby? He just grunts. Umbra? He gets pissy after 7-Wait, your dad knew my great grandma.”

“How do you think he’s still alive with no knees? Well, legs, in general.” Elias grins. “Maybe the bird just likes you.”

Well, we both have abandonment issues, Sirius thinks absently, conjuring a mirror. He sighs deeply, then frowns, then stares. His hair looks like spun starlight. Sirius dismisses the mirror then summons it again and whimpers, a bit like a dog. Damn, white dog hair was so much fucking worse to deal with. He has to get new bedding or he’d lose his mind. Hadrian gently takes the mirror from him with a sniff and vanishes it. Sirius glares weakly at him.

“You said my great grandma had this kind of hair?” Sirius looks to Elias.

Elias nods. “According to my da, they… were close, I guess you could say. But later into their friendship she accepted the bird and he just sort of… disappeared but her hair changed.”

Sirius guesses that makes sense but his mother had this color of hair as a child. Maybe children were more susceptible to Hugin and then as they grew up with opinions it changes the relationship as growing up tends to do. Sirius will have to harass his mother. He also wanted to move because his room was getting a bit crowded to house these animals who demanded to sleep with him and he couldn’t have proper morning zoomies. He wonders if the Potters would move with him. He hopes they will. Hadrian needs a bigger kitchen. Then Effie- Everyone? Sirius will make it a two for one. Harass his goblin, harass his mother. He nods firmly.

“I think he’s cracked.” Elias whispers.

“At least, he’s hot.” Hadrian comments, turning just as the door smacks open to reveal one Silas Vance, appearing put out and he opens his mouth to voice these feelings, then his jaw seems to unhinged as he gapes at Sirius. Oh, my hair, yes, Sirius nods once more, focusing on his previous hair color. Silas appears faint, which is alarming.

“You’re a mega-womp-womp?!”

“How are you older than me?” Hadrian asks dryly.

Elias blinks. “A who?”

“Metamorphmagus.” Sirius supplies. “For this conversation, yes. Did you figure out your knives?”

This sufficiently distracts Silas, who begins to babble and babble excitedly as he talks through Sirius’, frankly, thorough lesson and the strong benefits of using chisels instead of fucking pencils. Sirius thinks he did not need to have said this but apparently he did. Babbles is somewhere in Hogwarts shuddering in offended disbelief. He will have to write her and inform her of such discoveries. Silas said he was homeschooled and it shows- Wait, Sirius thinks, face going hot. Hadrian’s comment swings through his mind full force. Wait, a fucking second-

“Why are you hanging around like sacks of shit?” Crowe’s voice rings loudly through the air. He materializes in the doorway, startling Silas, who shrieks. Crowe sends him an amused look before locking eyes on Sirius. His nostrils flare and heavy delight ripples across his face. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” Hadrian appears gleeful.

“Doing more than being sacks of shit.” Elias agrees readily.

Silas looks between them, panicked. “What is happening?”

Crowe cracks his knuckles, grinning widely. “Ahhhh, le Fay.”

Sirius whimpers.

Notes:

Ehe. Welp we will see how these results pan out. There is also still the cult to deal with. Material gwooooorl

Also Hadrian was originally... not in this? Beyond like a sentence? But i felt like we all needed a reward so wala, a man.

 

Edit: I also wanted to mention that I had The Plagues from Prince of Egypt, The Point of No Return from Phantom of the Opera, Kink is my Karma by Chapelle Roan, RAVE by Dxrk and Gilded Lily by Cults on repeat while writing this entire chapter lmaooooo

Originally, I went in raw but then was like no, I need anger, I NEED the headspace. One must set the mood :hair flip:

Chapter 18: Wasteland, baby

Summary:

Sirius tries his hand at moving on.

Notes:

TWs, aftermath of le Fay request, implied death, implied terrible things, disfigurement, references to child abuse, Marlene on Mary violence, perhaps scary imagery.... Uhm. Yeah, that's it.

- Sirius "does terrible things" vs His aunts & cousin "go off"
- Sirius' general lack of self worth
- Isolde "they fucked around and found out" le Fay
- Hugin takes on a different skin
- Firmly believe Sirius and Marlene would be Eddie and Columbia from Rocky Horror because Magenta and Riff Raff is too close to home for a former Black :skull emoji:
- Sirius places a piece on a chess board he was unaware he was on :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

There’s a curious thing about humans that occurs when they’re particularly stressed. They rattle cages, bargain, scream, cry. Sirius expected many things in the upcoming days. It started with Grimmauld, the root of his childhood, the last standing piece turned completely into an aching pile of ash to never be reborn. Then Walburga Black was reported to have collapsed suddenly in Knockturn Alley. Peter was subsequently fired from his position and smacked into Azkaban with a heavy fine for illegal tampering of Ministry property and using the unauthorized clearance of Nestia Hurbert's magical signature. He was alive as was Regulus and Remus. 

Wait, his magic had said, had promised. Sirius knew it was going to be a slow, agonizing burn. He didn’t mind. 

Cassiopeia had written him a simple statement that rattled Sirius severely, Your father would be proud. Stand bold, nephew. Even as Cygnus sealed himself away in his manor with a wilting Druella, even as Narcissa sent him letters upon letters begging and pleading, even as Bellatrix spent her honeymoon with her spine melting through her ribcage, Irma’s unexpected passing despite being so healthy, Pollux found rotting maggots in the very parlor he watched Walburga use her first crucio on her oldest son at 5, Sirius could only read, your father would be proud. Stand bold, nephew. Over and over and over again until it broke something inside him so splendidly. 

Then Andy had written to him and Lucretia and while Dorea did not reach out to Sirius directly, she had reached out to Hadrian. Andromeda berated him heavily in her howler but her voice had trembled when she thanked him. Lucretia scoffed good riddance. Dorea’s simply said thank you. Sirius hadn’t seen Dorea Potter in years so he was a bit surprised she even knew he was here but Effie kept dangerous company and Hadrian seemed incredibly fond of his cousin, which made sense because he also kept dangerous company. Sirius didn’t know how they knew he was the cause but none of them were stupid and none of them believed in coincidences. 

Andromeda did not ask him to reconsider Narcissa and Sirius didn’t know if it was because she knew how he’d respond or that he just didn’t care. He didn’t know how to feel. It felt like the final ties of his life had finally unhooked their jaws from around his neck. If his grandfather was still alive, his father, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. What ifs were not reality, it was just fanfare. Choices were made. Decisions. Sirius would like to ask how it feels with his hands around their every nerve but he doesn’t care anymore as if all his lingering anger went along with his request and maybe it did. The hurt was all that remained, filling the empty places between his bones, and a harrowing guilt that felt… less than it should, which made him feel worse. 

Sirius wishes his mother was alive, knows that she would hug him so tightly even if she didn’t fully understand why he felt this way. Isolde tried, she really did, and maybe if he was raised with her, with Orion, he’d be the same, spitting they fucking deserved everything they brought upon themselves. Even now, as he sits before her, he can see her confusion, her panic at not understanding. The more Sirius visited his mother, the more he learned about her violent temper despite being so young. Alaric had been correct when he said Isolde was brutal in her offense, as her father was, as her mother was. Orion was the same, as his father was, his mother was. How unapologetic they both were.

Sirius felt so different than them both. Apologetic. So quick to anger, even if he was slower at regret. Weak. He just wanted to feel like himself again but he didn’t even know what that was anymore. Sirius felt like a stack of cards that had been slowly unraveling since Alphard died. Now his fold lies before him like a slowly filling grave.

“Sirius.”

Sirius forces his head up, Isolde’s concerned gaze sliding over him. He rubs his face tiredly. “Sorry. I keep doing that.” 

Isolde makes a soothing noise. “It's the end of a chapter. You are allowed to mourn it.”

Sirius slumps minutely in relief. 

“I’ve told you before that compassion doesn’t equate to weakness. While I do not think any of them deserve your second thoughts, your regret, I know these things come in time.” Isolde says. “Would you feel this way if I was the one to have done it? Or your father?”

“No.” Sirius admits. 

“Why?” Isolde prompts.

Sirius swallows thickly. “Isn’t that what parents do?”

“It is.” Isolde agrees. “I would’ve burned this world to the ground. I would’ve not apologized for it. Have.. Have you not hurt enough, my love? Why do you stay your hand in defense of yourself?”

Sirius shifts, stomach knotted in discomfort. His mouth twists. 

“Ah,” Isolde sits back on her hand, eyes bright with hatred. “She has done more than what she did when you left that house.”

“Yes.” Sirius answers quietly.

Isolde’s jaw shifts, the portrait rippling violently in response. “As Lord Black, Orion must’ve spent ample time away from home. You said Arcturus had been ill, Melania had already passed, and the demands of that house are many. Your glamor is seamless but I’ve always had a sharper eye than your father. I won’t ask why you didn’t seek him out. You’ve always been good at hiding, haven’t you, little nova?”

Sirius’ mouth trembles. “Yes.” 

“Let. Them. Rot.” Isolde spits furiously. “Leave these feelings in this chapter end, cry if you must, but you are more than any of this. I will not deny that it must hurt terribly but, my love, please. They do not deserve your mercy.”

Sirius swallows, eyes swimming with tears. “I understand.” 

“Do you?” Isolde urges, expression softening. “Do you understand that you are worthy of your response?”

Sirius wishes he could just throw himself in her arms, wishes he knew what she smelt like, felt like but he doesn’t have any of those things. Sirius knows he is a mercy in comparison to Isolde if she were alive. He just feels like he’s been a catalyst to so many events in his life, the breaking point. No, Sirius thinks, meeting Isolde’s warm stare. Even a gardener must rip the weeds from their garden. He wipes his face, shaking himself out and nods. Isolde’s approval is devastating and it runs through him so seamlessly. Sirius knows he’ll still struggle with this, with everything but. He had his people, his choices. A le Fay is not meant to hide in the darkness they created. 

“Good. If I could, I’d bop you very gently upside the head.” Isolde tosses her hair. “Onto softer topics, you resemble me when I was incredibly small. I will say I was not expecting you to work this color so well. Maman looked washed out as fuck. She had frightened me so badly one night. I thought she was a ghost!”

Sirius laughs, startled. 

Isolde grins at him, winking. “I told you I was 6 when I learned about,” She waves a delicate hand. “This nonsense and it troubled me for quite some time. Then maman passed and well… It was just me but I never feared our magic. I found him incredible even if he unnerved many. My father tried to understand, be a listening ear, but he could only do so much.”

“I’m surprised he remained with you.” Isolde admits quietly. “He became so quiet in maman as if he was finally just silenced. Is he happy now?”

“I think so.” Sirius tells her. “He’s changed again but… he feels settled. I feel settled.”

“Good.” Isolde says firmly then frowns. “Changed how?”

Sirius doesn’t know how to describe the unsettling image of Hugin currently beyond “scary” and “his strange bird who likes his scruff scratched” because for one, it sounded insane and for two, how does a bird have scruff. Sirius tilts his head, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “Uhm. I guess we’re morphed now?”

Isolde’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pardon?”

Sirius chuckles softly. “I’m an animagus. A dog. Hugin has become a bird dog, I guess that’s one way to describe it, but he primarily takes the image of a raven if I summon him outside the domain and I’m not alone. He startled James pretty badly one morning. I have never heard Prongs scream so loud.”

Isolde appears startled, mouth opening and closing. “A bir- Show me him at once. This I must see! A bird puppy!”

Sirius laughs, hooking his index fingers together. There is a spark, the hair on his body rising as the distinct smell of ozone fills the vault. It was a lot easier to summon Hugin now that they were one and he didn’t need to feed nearly as much magic into it. Hugin ripples inside him, that long beak surging through his fingers and Sirius opens his hands completely. 

Hugin hardly resembled the raven of before, his face strange and now made entirely of bone, still avian and long but those eyes are hollow and eerily blue, wild and piercing. His body was longer, not quite a bird anymore, not quite a dog with thin, bony legs that surge out of his chest, ribcage revealing under shifting pieces of fur and feathers. His once mighty wings have broken up into a meld of raven’s heads, every eye locking on Sirius then to Isolde. He was still smaller outside the domain, about the size of little Darcy.

Isolde appears faint, hand rested over her heart. “How incredible. Look at you. Magnificent.”

Hugin’s chest puffs, pleased, little talons pawing at Sirius’ lap before he turns this way and that way before settling down, boned tail curling around him. Sirius rubs his forehead, watching in amusement as his ears flatten on his head. “He’s the size of a manticore in my mind. Super comfy too.”

“You said.. You were a dog animagus?” Isolde’s eyes narrow. She tilts her head. “Are you certain?”

Sirius nods, confused. “Yeah. I mean, I guess I’m big for a dog.”

“A big, once black dog?” Isolde asks.

Sirius nods once more.

“Shaggy fur that curls slightly at the tail? About the size of a bear?” 

“Are you psychic? A seer?” Sirius asks, awed.

Isolde laughs, startled. “Absolutely not. I failed Divination. Mémé would be pleased to know that we have another Grimm in the family. Scary thing. I pissed myself when I stumbled upon her when I was a young girl. It was uncouth and I was thoroughly chastised for wandering around after bedtime by my grandfather.” 

Sirius blinks. “Oh. Thought I was just a dog.”

Isolde balks. “Absolutely not. How boring. You might as well have been a bird.”

Hugin grumbles low in offense, turning away from her to press his face into Sirius’ stomach, sulking. Sirius sends his mother a speaking look and Isolde titters behind her hand. They chat for a moment longer until Isolde gets that look in her eyes when she’s reached her portrait’s limit. She is just as crushed to watch him leave as she always is but still blows him kisses and smiles even if it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Sirius leaves Alaric with an assortment of bonbons and a large selection of chocolate banoffee tarts that has his goblin darkly pleased. He, also, of course, gives the teller snacks, who is just as startled as always. 

James is surprisingly home, which is great because Sirius does not think he could handle his own thoughts right now. Hadrian had been quiet recently, since Peter came to the Academy but it seemed like he was giving Sirius space to explode or something. James took a page out of his brother’s book, offering his gentle, haphazard support after he finally, finally calmed down over Peter’s “fucking audacity. I’ll have his fucking throat”, especially after the Prophet essentially exploded with speculations upon speculations on what could’ve happened, if this was because of Lucan Carrow’s blood feud against the House of Black. 

The timing couldn’t have been any better. Peter really was a fucking idiot. Amycus did reach out during the earlier articles and essentially forbid Sirius from ever meeting Alecto because “this blasted woman is going to get me scalped. Best you never interact, cousin”. Lucan’s was a howler filled with wheezing laughter, which was unnerving but Sirius couldn’t help but laugh along as he ate the various pastries Lucan sent alongside it. 

When Hadrian comes home, it's with a sulky, bleeding Marlene Janet McKinnon under his arm. Her knuckles are bruised and already scabbing, skin stained red, her blonde hair a bit frazzled as her chest heaves, eyes thunderous. Sirius moves on autopilot, grasping her hands and healing them and panics when Marlene bursts into tears. His alarm bells are wildly going off but at least Marlene Janet McKinnon is not emotional enough to throw hands at the same time. 

Sirius gently guides her to sit on the couch, kneeling before her, and truly this is the worst. He has only ever seen Marlene cry three times in their years of knowing each other. When her da died, when her sister stopped talking to her and when that same sister apologized months later. Marlene never cried, even when she tumbled 6 feet and broke her hand, even when her first girlfriend was caught with her tongue in another girl’s mouth. Sirius rubs her knees soothingly, searching her face frantically. 

Marlene furiously wipes her face. “You know I’m on your side, right? I will always be on your side.”

“War crimes and less.” Sirius responds immediately. 

Marlene lets out a watery laugh. “War crimes and less. MacDonald came by Cassie’s apartment. Wanted to talk or some nonsense. I’ve been on a strong avoidance streak because I just knew I’d break my hand in her face.” She lifts her healed hand, wagging her fingers. “Alas, I have. Well, had.”

Sirius winces. “Sorry.”

Sirius was never really close with Mary. She was more of Remus’ friend, Peter and Lily’s friend, mostly because she thought he was stuck up and he thought she was a bore. Remus wanted them to get along. Peter wanted them to get along but Sirius just didn’t care enough. Yikes, he thinks. Sirius had forgotten about her when Peter came by his job. How is Peter doing, Sirius asks, and an image of a miserable, trembling figure slouched heavily in the corner of a cell flashes across his mind. Good riddance.

Marlene sneers, tossing her hair. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. I kept telling Lily that she wasn’t fucking shit. Would you fucking look at that? I was right. What kind of person would I be if I allowed such an offense towards my husband go unchecked? Absolutely not. Fucking fuck all of them.” She sniffles. “Buy me ice cream. Right now. I have done incredible things today.”

“You have. Anything for wifey.” Sirius says solemnly. “Would you like to raid my closet now or after?”

Marlene’s gaze turns critical. She sniffs, casting a heavily interested look towards the stairs. Marlene turns back to him with a pitiful expression. “I don’t want to disrespect your mother’s memory.”

“Lucky for you, maman does not care unless you’re ugly,” Sirius grins up at her. “And we are not ugly, are we, Columbia?”

Marlene gasps, thrilled, kicking her feet excitedly. “Not at all, Eddie!”

“Are they always like this?” Hadrian asks quietly.

“Only when Marls gets emotional and Pads gets emotionless.” James whispers loudly. “When they start switching back and forth, you gotta be careful. Usually it ends up with someone decked.”

“It's true.” Marlene sighs heavily. 

“Is that why Evans is now, also, here?” Hadrian asks dryly. 

Several heads snap to him and alas, Lily Evans is storming down the entry hall, expression so furious that Marlene and Sirius exchange a look as if trying to remember what they could’ve done wrong this time. Sirius also does one with James because it's best to be thorough but James just seems confused and simpy. Then Lily simply says Mary’s name and Marlene is already working back up into “the fucking audacity” degrees once more. Sirius does not complain, mostly because he wants to live and he is not stupid when it comes to his terrifying, beautiful friends. You just gotta let girls have fun, Sirius nods solemnly, barely registering the heated tea being thrown about the room. Women’s rights, women’s wrongs.

Sirius doesn’t really know how they want from vivacious fury to a muggle bar in Manchester but well, it's not like he has work tomorrow and an array of hell raising images to keep him occupied while watching James argue furiously with Marlene about whose lap Lily sits in. Sirius takes himself out of the running with a lazy wave, subtly swiping a cigarette from a particularly wasted muggle. He does leave a tenner behind for payment of services because if Sirius bought a pack, it would ruin all his hard work of having quit smoking. Muggles were so scary sometimes. Who gets this shitfaced at fucking 7?

The alleyway Sirius finds himself in is sticky, gross, and is that a dead rat? Wowza, what a time to be alive, he thinks, lighting his cigarette. Sirius peers around curiously, noticing a stack of palettes, and drags himself towards them. They are dry and, fortunately, do not smell like piss so Sirius plops down on them, inhaling deeply as his gaze floats towards the darkening sky. 

Show me Walburga, he thinks. His vision shudders, revealing a pale, sweating Walburga Black stretched out in her bed, hands fisted in silk sheets. There are many red stained handkerchiefs on the floor, much like how his father’s was. Good riddance, Sirius thinks, exhaling out his nose. His cigarette is plucked from his fingers and Sirius startles badly, fist soundly slamming into a palm. He recognizes Hadrian’s amused expression, one eyebrow lifted as he takes a deep drag from the cigarette. Sirius slumps, sending him an ugly look.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Sirius huffs.

“Your reaction time’s gotten better.” Hadrian responds cheerfully, sliding the cigarette back between Sirius’ fingers. When he exhales, it's a bit like watching some ancient dragon slowly wake up from a long nap. Hadrian sends Sirius a speaking look. “Don’t tell maa.”

Sirius laughs. “As long as you don’t tell her.”

“Accepted.” Hadrian says solemnly. He wrinkles his nose. “Of course you smoke menthols.”

Sirius waves the cigarette. “Hey. Hey. I am one year dry, thank you very fucking much. If I want a mint, I’ll damn well have one. Take a sit and we can split. Like that rhyme? I’m so cool.”

Hadrian doesn’t respond beyond an eye roll but does take a seat beside Sirius on the palette, eyes studying the stretch of sloppy graffiti curled on various pieces of brick.

“You’ve been quiet.” Hadrian says softly. 

Sirius looks at him.

Hadrian works his jaw slowly. “You cried a lot when you came here. When you ran away. You keep… incredibly quiet but my hearing is very good. You haven’t cried at all.”

“Would you like me to break down right now?” Sirius laughs, a bit embarrassed. 

Hadrian huffs. “No. I’d rather never hear you cry again.” His mouth twists and he looks at Sirius. “Are you good?”

Sirius swallows. “It hurts but it hurts less.”

Hadrian’s expression softens in understanding. He looks away first. Sirius studies his profile for a brief moment before turning back to the wall before them. 

“You’ve been quiet.” Sirius mimics, placing the cigarette between his lips. He rolls it with his teeth.

Hadrian laughs, a soft, tiny thing. “Have I?”

“Yeah.” 

“I guess I’m just waiting to see how I can support you.” Hadrian flicks his fingers. “Maa said to give you space. I’m not inclined to disagree with her.”

“Ugh, I hate when Effie is reasonable. No wonder Prongs is being fucking weird.” Sirius scoffs, earning a low snort of amusement. “She asked me if your dog was still beating my ass. Obviously in Ef terms. I guess it gives me something to focus on. Crowe’s your mentor, isn’t he?”

Hadrian hums quietly. “You’re the only one that’s noticed beyond Cas and Elias.”

“You’re the only one who seems to know he’s a werewolf. Plus he’s always hyping you up. And you’re both… murdery. It's like you feed off each other.” Sirius shifts towards him, chin pressed to his shoulder. “And you have this grumpy uncle and his weird nephew thing going on.”

“Am I the uncle?” Hadrian laughs.

“Yes.” Sirius deadpans and Hadrian laughs again, turning to him. The setting sun hits his eyes, turning them the strangest shade of jade. Wow, Sirius thinks and Hadrian cocks an eyebrow, smile mean. Sirius blinks, face hot, but, bravely, does not look away. Hadrian seems amused, which is terrible. Sirius studies him, the strange gaze he’s wearing, those minute, tiny specks of gold in his pale eyes. The space between them feels so heavy right now, so strange. 

Sirius kept replaying Hadrian’s words at the Ministry, his words before, his actions, how they twisted and grew and grew along his subconscious like a web. Sirius doesn’t know what he could offer Hadrian Potter and he was scared of ruining another good thing. Sirius is aware he’s playing with fire, should-likely-maybe-probably pick anyone else to do this with. It’s not like Sirius was fucking ugly but sometimes, he was fucking dumb, and Hadrian Potter was a tall drink of delectable.

“Such a strange face you’re making, Hades.” Sirius tells him, tilting his head.

“Am I?” Hadrian asks quietly. 

“Mhm.” Sirius responds, hesitating before pressing the cigarette to Hadrian’s mouth. He can feel his lips press against his skin, how they part slowly, and Sirius’ stomach twists hotly. Hadrian’s expression turns darkly amused. 

“Such a strange face you’re making right now, Riri.”

“Am I?” 

“Mhm.” Hadrian hums, reaching out to brush a single curl that’s fallen across Sirius’ forehead behind his ear. Sirius feels his face go warm and Hadrian’s lips quirk upwards, eyes alight with a dark glee. “Gotcha.”

“Do you?” Sirius presses, bold. Hadrian doesn’t retract his hand, fingers lingering along the side of Sirius’ face, the corners of his eyes pulling slightly like he’s particularly amused but that gaze is unwavering. 

“Depends,” Hadrian’s voice is low, hand slowly pulling away. “Subtlety isn’t really your strong suit, is it?”

“Like it's yours?” Sirius responds smoothly, looking up at him, the quiet widening of his eyes, how they burn as they stare down at him. Sirius feels a bit reckless, heart pounding so loud in his chest he’s sure Hadrian can hear it. “Too bad subtlety is boring.”

“Is it?” Hadrian asks, a slow smile crossing his face. “How strange. Shall I be loud?”

“Hmm, tough question.” Sirius hums thoughtfully. “I do like a direct approach but,” He plucks the dwindling cigarette from Hadrian’s mouth, flicking it away absently, smirking up at him. “I feel like you do as well underneath that tall, dark, and scary.”

Hadrian chuckles, eyes flashing with delight, his hand sliding to the small of Sirius’ back, tugging him closer. “Perhaps. Perhaps I enjoy a hunt.”

Sirius makes a low, questioning noise, ignoring the vibrant flutter in his chest as he curls a hand around Hadrian’s forearm. “Oh? Playing with your food, Hades? Not enough protein at work?”

Hadrian’s eyes flicker to Sirius’ lips, lingering for a brief moment. “I am plenty entertained. Certainly well fed.”

Sirius laughs quietly. “Are you?”

Hadrian’s expression softens, genuine amusement flickering across his face. He leans in, lips brushing along Sirius’ ear and Sirius can hear the smile in his voice at the shiver it invokes. “Careful, Riri. You may not like my response.” 

Holy shit, Sirius thinks wildly. He grins, tipping his head just so, making sure his teeth graze along Hadrian’s ear. “Are you certain? I think I just may. Sounds like you’re only convincing yourself, Hades.”

“Oh?” Hadrian murmurs, tilting Sirius’ chin up and their eyes meet. “You think I need convincing?”

Sirius blinks at him, innocent. “Possibly. I wouldn’t know. I haven't been asked out yet.”

“Oh?” Hadrian grins.

The bar door smacks open but neither of them startle. Hadrian’s face does shift into a pitying amusement, shoulders shaking with restrained laughter that has Sirius confused until he gets an armful of James Potter, who enthusiastically rubs his face into Sirius’ collarbone and neck. Maybe they got the wrong animagus forms because this is some Padfoot audacity. They should’ve both been dogs.

“Oh man. What were you- hic- guys doing?” James huffs. He sniffs then frowns then sniffs some more, pressing his face into Sirius’ shirt. “Pads, you better not be smokin’.”

“Not me! So innocent!” Sirius gasps like the liar he is.

Hadrian ruffles James’ hair, sliding his arm fully around Sirius’ waist. “It was me, Jay. Only had a half.”

James gasps, outraged, cheeks flushed deeply. “Hadrian! I-I… Ooh, words. Hmm. Hmm. I made you a powerpoint.”

Sirius blinks. “He did?”

“He didn’t. He made me a pamphlet that was just poorly drawn images of him crying.” Hadrian sniffs, amused when James tries to clamor between them but just sort of lays halfway on their laps. “Promise, Jaime. Just a half.”

“Fine.” James sniffles. “Proud of you, big brother.”

Hadrian blushes, which is endearing. “Have you had any water?”

James nods, face buried in Sirius’ belly. He pauses then shakes his head. Sirius laughs, patting his upper back solemnly. “Let’s get you some water, yeah? We have left Marlene and Lily alone for too long. We need to save the statute of secrecy.”

James rears up, shocked. “Omg, we do-”

There is a crash as the door, once again, is smacked open with Marlene holding the collar of a burly man, teeth bared, and it is so comical because Marlene was barely tall enough to reach this man’s shoulders. Hadrian sighs deeply, squeezing Sirius’ hip, and bodily sets James in Sirius’ lap, which… is also comical. Sirius feels a bit like Shaggy from Scooby Doo with a really large dog in his arms. James beams down at him, wiggling excitedly.

“Oh, Jay.” Sirius laughs. 

Notes:

Sorry this took so long. I triggered myself lmaoooo. I had a Mary in my life but I also was Sirius and Marlene. ^^/ Crying while throwing hands. I did deck my ex as well but alas, here we are.

Hope y'all like this sprinkle of Hadrian and Sirius :flips hair: gotta feed y'all. snaps! snaps!

Chapter 19: The Dying Light of Roshan

Summary:

An ambush leads to some answers.

Notes:

TWs, implied infanticide, implied child abuse, brief mention of Andromeda leaving the Blacks, attempted murder, poisoning, death, obsessive behavior, cult behavior, an author's constant use of Diagon Alley for ambushes ehe, watching someone die and holding their hand (it is no one we love), using children for war crimes, underage death (ehhh, like 17 but just in case, once again, no one we love)

- Sirius "a bimbo, its my fucking off day" le Fay vs Narcissa "night kween" Malfoy
- Prongs & Padfoot plotting vs Hades "suspicious, something is happening"
- James "a sunny deer" Potter
- an unexpected connection
- Sirius Canonical Tendency to be a Dumbass ™
- A violet vs an uneven set
- Hadrian's literal murderous temper
- A splendid light has been snuffed out

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Sirius-”

“Have the returned owls not been clear enough?” Sirius asks bluntly, hands tucked in the pockets of his, er, Hadrian’s hoodie. He realizes he looks a bit like some child playing dress up considering how large this specific article of clothing is on him and certainly doesn’t resemble the apparent lord he’s meant to be but fuck, can’t a man get ice cream with his little Potter in peace? It was his reward for doing big boy things like finally, finally, settling on what house he wanted to force everyone to settle into.

Though he can appreciate the comedy of this moment. Him, generally dressed like someone who definitely, unironically, always has their hair in a bun, takes liquor straight from the bottle, and has burn books filled with scandals about their teenage friends, with Narcissa standing before him like evening goddess of the north wind or some shit. Sirius is just grateful she sent her weird ass husband away because he had already clocked Sirius’ bare knees several times, which honestly ground on Sirius’ nerves more than the rest of the situation. It was too early for this shit.

“Just a moment of your time.” Narcissa says quietly.

Sirius’ eyebrow twitches. He didn’t expect her to hunt him down, quite literally, especially in public. He can see numerous looks being sent their way. The Prophet had been busy recently but Hugin had been, objectively, worse. Sirius wrinkles his nose at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and flicks his hand lazily. The world pauses around them, distorted and blurred like waves of film buffering along an empty screen. Narcissa startles badly when Hugin shifts from behind her, emerging from the emptiness. He regards her, slowly circling like a shark in the water, all eyes focused and hungry, then turns away when Sirius holds out his hand to him. 

A set of chairs appear between them, Sirius gestures for Narcissa to sit since he’s already being fucking hospitable. She does, hesitant and visibly nervous, which is delightful. Sirius has never seen Narcissa make such an expression. He sits after she does, lazily crossing one leg over the other. The world explodes around them as soon as his back hits the seat, the gentle breeze of crackling magic. The earth beneath them pulses with energy, alive and breathing, as the mountains break and stretch into the shape of a ribcage, tops dripping oozes of molten purple.

Narcissa swallows. Sirius supposes this meeting wasn’t as unexpected as he thought since Severus had sent him a warning essentially and a firm reminder that he didn’t owe anyone fucking anything but to hear her out. Probably worked out better for Narcissa because Sirius does not like surprises that involve former family members, especially when they want something from him. 

Hugin curls around Sirius’ chair, watching her. 

“You have three minutes.” Sirius says plainly. He managed to convince James to get ice cream despite it being before noon and he damn well would. “So speak.”

“I am pregnant.” Narcissa tells him. 

Sirius slowly lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not coming for your first born if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“He is the first to make it past the first trimester.” Narcissa explains after a moment. “The rest… He is the first to make it this long. I understand you have your opinions of me-”

“I’ll stop you there.” Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose. “Be grateful for your dismissive attitude towards me. It’s the only reason you aren’t like the rest. All I asked was for you to feel how I felt.” He pushes to his feet. “Congrats, Cissa. You and your baby will live. I hope your brat lives a nice, long, stupidly spoiled life. However, I should let you know that your plans to eventually have the Black name under Lucius’ thumb is moot point.”

Narcissa looks at him, shocked.

Sirius grins. “What? Thought I didn’t know? Clearly not as much of an idiot as you thought. Don’t get greedy or you won’t like what I do. Lord Black dies with Regulus just as he wanted.”

“Did our family mean so little to you?” Narcissa asks quietly. 

Sirius doesn’t deign to answer her, grinding his teeth so hard he’s afraid they’ll shatter in his mouth. The world around them trembles and Hugin growls lowly. Narcissa swallows, peering up at him. She must see something in his face, something he can’t hide because it softens minutely with understanding, with a bitter grief that comes with leaving a sibling behind, with being left behind. Andromeda never really did look back after Duella ripped out her hair and Cygnus tried to kill her. After all, what was there to go back to?

Sirius swallows down the hard swell of anger that rises inside him. He wasn’t about to defend himself, to her, to them. What did it matter that he no longer held any favor for them? He wasn’t a Black, had no connection to any of them anymore. He shakes himself out, roughly rubbing his face as his mouth trembles. Sirius turns away completely. He doesn’t look at Narcissa again.

“Is that all?” Sirius asks, voice dismissive, numb.

“Yes.” Narcissa whispers. She sniffles softly.

Sirius sends them both back to the streets of Diagon Alley. There are numerous startled murmurs. Lucius rushes up to Narcissa, gently grabbing her forearms and sends Sirius a questioning glance that he ignores completely. He turns away from them, perking up to see James waving wildly as he stumbles out Quality Quidditch Supplies, arms filled with bags. Sirius sighs heavily. This deer. James’ gaze turns hard and critical when he notices the Malfoys behind Sirius. He sends Sirius a questioning look and Sirius waves him off, gesturing to the bags. 

James beams. “Hads said he’s going to convince baba to play with us.”

“Isn’t Monty afraid of heights?”

James scoffs. “So? He will get on this broom or I will cry.”

Sirius truly feels sorry for Fleamont Potter sometimes but not enough to discourage such behavior because he would also like to play Quidditch with Daddy Potter. Sirius hadn’t played in a decent amount of time, since Minnie took him off the team as punishment. Even when she later changed her mind, Sirius just wasn’t interested even when James became weepy, but playing with family? Absolutely, yes. James had to shift into being a chaser after his forearms started reaching side eye levels and Sirius knew Big Potter was a beater and apparently had it out for Denver Wood, the original Gryffindor Captain before James, and Joanna Mickles, a Hufflepuff Keeper. Sirius does not know what a Puff could’ve done to earn a Slytherin’s anger but alas, Hufflepuff never won a cup while Hadrian was on the team according to James. 

“I need to buy a broom so I can play with you guys.”

James sends Sirius a furious look. “Duh. Don’t be fucking stupid. Why do you think I have so many bags? You’re so silly.”

Sirius blushes, pleased. “Yes, deer. We get ice cream with mow?”

“God, yes. Absolutely.” James nods rapidly, shrinking his packages down. He throws an arm around Sirius’ shoulder, guiding him in the direction of Fortescue’s. Sirius leans against him, gaze flickering around the busy streets. “What did Malfoy want? Did you pick our house?”

“Yes. I will show you it when we get home. You have to help me convince Hades.” Sirius sniffs. “She thought I was going to eat her baby.”

“He is no match for us both.” James blinks then frowns. “What? You? That entire house and she’s worried about you?”

Sirius manages a laugh. “Yeah. It's whatever. I guess I can see where she’s coming from.”

“Its fucking dumb is what is.”

“Yeah.” Sirius snorts, looping an arm around James’ waist. The morning air is so nice and crispy, cobblestone streets bustling with various sounds of merchants and a few heated arguments about the best use for kneazles. Sirius tilts his head, skin prickling. He peers around subtly, curious. Someone is watching them. Underneath the high laughter and happy shouts is a low whizzing noise. Sirius can feel James shift towards him, a question likely on his tongue and Sirius has a shield up immediately just as a spell slams towards them. 

James jumps, startled, wand drawn. There is commodium, panicked screams and shouts, as various hexes are shot from various points of the shifting crowd. James shouts his name, slightly too late, but Sirius manages to narrowly miss a streak of light that shoots past him. Dark figures in cloak emerge from the crowds, hoods drawn low and wands pointed, cutting easily through the bustling street. The beheaded ravens on their robes shine menacingly in the morning light.

One of the cloaked figures’ hood is smacked off with a spell sent directly to their face by James. A singular, violet eye meets Sirius’ own, the other a stark, empty brown and his breath catches in his throat. Wait, he thinks. Wait. The man before him couldn’t be much younger than he is but the hatred in that gaze is unmistakable as is the malice in his voice, “Your magic will be freed.”

Sirius’ lips curl, fingers tightening on his wand as Hugin roars to life inside him, bloodthirsty and demanding, “If you think I’ll make it easy, I’ve got news for you.” 

Sirius doesn’t give him a chance to respond, to fire, flicking off a curse as James presses to his back, deflecting spell after spell with narrowed efficiency. They are almost, entirely, surrounded. James fires off a blasting curse that splits the cobblestone beneath them apart. Protect the passersby, Sirius thinks, snatching one of the robed members with a solid deck to the face, wand locked with the man before him. Hugin rears in response, vibrant feathers surging through the earth and encasing them and the robed figures in a strange menagerie of ravens, every eye clocking each movement. 

“Alright, Pads.” James laughs, clasping his hands together with a deafening sound. Then there is light and heat like the very sun has pulled directly into their atmosphere. The man’s eyes widen, teeth grit tightly, and he glares murderously at Sirius, pressing black electricity towards him. Of us, Hugin hisses. Sirius flicks his wand, hair rising on his neck as his own magic latches against it, sparking and erosive and the man gasps as Sirius simply directs the surge towards the people around them, temporarily blinded by James’ magic. They stiffen comically, much like dolls strung up on a wire.

“Hadrian is here.” James quips just as a series of shadowed hands spring upwards, snatching bodies like a puppet master snipping their strings. 

“Moody too.” Sirius replies, watching the man stagger back, peering around frantically as more and more bodies are taken down in rapid succession. “No. You’re coming with me.”

He glares at Sirius, thunderous, spitting , “Fuck you.”

Don’t let him leave, Sirius hisses, distracted momentarily by a slicing hex sent his way. There is a burst that surges directly from his chest, Hugin diving forward, true to size, and a startled scream echoes through the air. Don’t let him leave, Sirius snaps, colliding bodily into a hooded figure that rushes to block him. The man is running, Hugin charging after him like a bolt of lightning. Sirius smashes his head into the person before him, stumbling to his feet and after them.

“Sirius!” James shouts. “Where- Wait! Pads!”

Sirius side flips over a flurry of sickly green, slamming hard to his knees and presses his hands to the ruined ground. He feels the exact moment Hugin has him between his teeth, when that man enters his domain, and he drags the rest of the figures down with him. Sirius pants, blood dripping from his nose, and staggers to his feet, categorizing the wounded bodies currently encased in sickly feathers. The man’s wand is broken, his fists pounding at Hugin’s locked jaws that ripple beneath his beak. Sirius wipes his face, wandering towards them. 

“Who are you?” Sirius spits. “Why do you have that face?”

The man bares his teeth at him. “Fuck you!”

“Who are you?” Sirius presses angrily. The more he looks at him, the more curious he is. His hair is wavy, a smooth shade of black with the tiniest glimmer of silver. Then there’s his face, his features, that singular violet eye, but he’s a couple shades lighter than Sirius. A le Fay who wasn’t quite a le Fay. But these people had no family names. A subset maybe, Sirius thinks.

The man whips out a ritualistic looking dagger from his robes and Sirius’ heart seizes, mind scrambling as it screams no over and over again. He’s moving before he can register, dismissing Hugin completely into a blur of mist just as the dagger stabs into nothing. The man’s face ruptures with outrage, shoving himself towards Sirius with an unhinged wail. Sirius can’t hear any of the words coming from his mouth, grasping his wrist just as that dagger slams hard into his shoulder. Sirius chokes, the wound sizzling and wrong and the man grins down at him with wild eyes then stiffens.

Sirius grits his teeth, tears stinging his eyes, as they stumble backwards together. The man’s hand trembling around the dagger, the other falling slack where it's fisted in his hoodie. He makes a confused noise, spraying blood all over Sirius’ face just as he’s bodily ripped off of him by a set of rotten hands. Sirius staggers back, grasping his shoulder as searing agony tears through him. He rips the dagger out and nearly collapses to his knees but Hadrian is immediately in his space, grasping his face.

“Hey, hey. Baby, I need you to focus.” Hadrian says quickly. “What are you feeling?”

“S-shit.” Sirius whimpers, trembling against him. His vision swims and the world rocks violently around them, shifting rapidly between reality and the domain. His skin feels like it’s on fire. God, what is this? Think. Think. Poison, he realizes wildly. Sirius struggles to focus, drowsy and fuck, he may throw up. Oh. Oh. What a fucking bastard. Snape was going to kick his ass but at least, he can’t say Sirius does not listen to his incessant ramblings.

“Sirius.” Hadrian urges. 

“Umbra.” Sirius grits out. “B-Basilisk.”

Hugin rears sharply in response and there is a familiar trill of a melodic song. Hadrian guides Sirius to the ground, easily ripping the tear in Sirius’ borrowed hoodie open further. Shit, he thinks dazedly, feeling the cool brush of feathers against him as Umbra settles on his chest. He can feel the sizzle of his wound, how deep it reaches. Sirius sighs in relief, gathering Umbra tight in his arms, who squawks, but still curls his long neck around him when he sits up. 

“I ruined your hoodie.” Sirius sniffles.

Hadrian glares furiously at him. “Fucking idiot. I don’t care about that.” 

Umbra, also, nips Sirius’ ear in immense offense. 

Sirius manages a laugh. “Ok, sorry. Is the man still alive?”

“Lucky for him, you were my priority.” Hadrian says curtly, pushing to his feet. He looks over his shoulder. “Various organs are ruptured, internal bleeding, blah blah. There’s some sickly shit inside him.”

“I want to talk to him before he dies.” Sirius says. I want their memories, he tells Hugin who ripples in confirmation. 

Hadrian’s head snaps to him. “What?”

“Look at him.” Sirius urges, moving to stand. “Look at his eyes.”

Hugin takes it upon himself to drag the dying man to them, grumbling lowly in furious anger. He drops him deftly, circling Sirius. Sirius runs a hand over his head, meeting that weakening, mismatched gaze. Hadrian inhales sharply. The man chokes, eyes wide with despair as blood pools from his mouth. Oh. Not a man at all. This face is so young. Sirius kneels next to him, watching as that spark of derision shifts into quiet awe when Hugin rests his head on Sirius’ shoulder. There is understanding when Sirius drops his disguised hair, familiar strands of starlight pooling past his collarbones.

“Y-You are one?” He manages.

“Yes.” Sirius answers simply. “Who sent you?”

“My father. He wants to kill you.” He whispers. 

“He’ll try. He will fail as you did.” Sirius responds. “Hugin is mine. He will stay mine until we both die. Who are you? Who is your father?”

“R-Roshan. I can’t. I can’t.” His expression is frazzled, pained, like his throat curls up when he tries to speak. Roshan appears confused suddenly, like he doesn’t understand what was asked.

“Confundus charm most likely.” Hadrian supplies dryly. 

How frustrating, Sirius thinks. He tells Roshan, “Did you know that Roshan means bright? I prefer splendid light myself.”

“Names don’t mean anything.” He coughs up blood.

Sirius sucks his teeth. “Names always mean something, stupid.”

Roshan manages a gurgly laugh. “What d-does Hugin mean t-then?”

“Of the mind. Of thought.” Sirius rubs Hugin’s boned beak. “How old are you, Roshan?”

“17.” Roshan’s eyes water. How shitty, Sirius thinks, gently taking his hand when he reaches for him, solemn when weak fingers clutch him back. Roshan swallows hard, tears spilling down his cheeks. “He’s.. He’s coming. W-Will you stay with me?”

“Yes.” Sirius responds quietly. 

“You… you are not as he said.” Roshan admits, then his face goes tight with a horrible pain, grasping Sirius’ hand so tight his bones shift. Then Roshan slackens as does his hand. Sirius feels his expression crumple. A series of silvery vials appear beside him. Sirius collects them quietly and tucks them into the pocket of his hoodie, struggling to keep himself underwraps. Why did they want to take Hugin away? Sirius realizes he could’ve asked all these things but he didn’t think Roshan would answer or that he’d be able to. What kind of person was his father? Why did he send his son to do such things? Why send a child at all?

“Sirius.” Hadrian prompts quietly.

Sirius wipes his face, mouth trembling. He forces himself to stand with a sniff, feeling wrong. It feels like whenever he figures out one thing, the rest just begins to unravel. Sirius turns to Hadrian, who is already stepping into his space, thick arms wrapping around him. Sirius snivels quietly, clutching the back of his shirt. 

“Let’s go back to Jay, yeah?” Hadrian rubs his back soothingly. 

Sirius forces himself to nod, waving a hand. Diagon Alley roars to life around them, Aurors litter the streets and startling when a series of bound bodies appear. Umbra settles quietly on Sirius’ shoulder, Hadrian pressed into his side, a gentle hand sliding along his lower back. Sirius slumps into him, roughly wiping his eyes as more tears threaten to burst forth. 

When James sees them, he bats the healer’s hands trying to look over him and rushes over, sweeping Sirius into a crushing hug. Umbra makes an annoyed noise but does not move from his studious position. Sirius wraps his arms around James, pressing his face hard into his collarbone and a small, devastating whimper escapes his lips. James inhales sharply, likely doing whatever Potter communication he does with Hadrian because he just holds Sirius tighter and Hadrian’s hand slides to Sirius’ hip, squeezing lightly.

“Moody has to take our statement, ok? Then we can go get ice cream and force Hades to play Monopoly with us.”

“Again-” Hadrian sighs deeply, aggrieved. “Fine. I want the thimble.”

Sirius lets out a watery laugh. “Deal.”

Moody clamors his way over, looking especially cheerful and manic. His head rears sharply when he notices Roshan’s dead form. His eyes flash with recognition, looking at Sirius, who nods minutely. Moody flicks his wand and Roshan’s eyes slide closed. 

“No casualties or injuries amongst bystanders.” Moody huffs, sending Hadrian a scrutinizing look. “I thought I felt you out here.”

Hadrian shrugs lazily. “You know me. Invested and shit.”

“Hey, hey, you love us.” James argues heatedly.

Hadrian sighs once more.

Moody snorts. 

Notes:

this was going to be worse originally but I decided to throw Riri a bone because it was just downright terrible mhmmm mhmmm.

So. The cult is... terrible. Obviously. And I needed to show that bit more. Their leader is not a great dude at all and is terrible and horrible and will eventually be ripped into pieces. Alas, this will not happen today.

If it helps, next chapter will be much softer and who knows, maybe thirsty

Happy Halloween ^^/

Chapter 20: Its Giving

Summary:

Heeheeheeheeheeheehee that's all you get heeheeeeee

Notes:

Tws, discussions of illegal creature fighting, Sirius' gutter mind, references to toxic relationships, ex marauder slander? hmmm. That's it?

- Sirius "Big Sad" le Fay vs Hadrian "No" Potter
- Sirius' once again canonical tendency to be a dumbass ™
- Peverell lore drop
- Hadrian, sulky and sad "I dont want to be a pimp" vs Sirius "that is NOT what I said"
- Hagrid, protector of creatures, eater of creatures
- A grumpy uncle and his nephew adventures
- James' incessant need to be in the wrong place
- Tyler the Creator voice: Yes, bitch!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius forces his head off his desk, staring blearily at the pensieve beside him. Whoever this man was, he was meticulous and thorough. The memories extracted were essentially useless, blots of time like looking over a vast hill with large empty plots but Sirius was able to see that there were, at least, one more like Roshan. Young, that same, strange pattern of heterochromia, and quiet, very quiet. Even when it was just Roshan and this child, they rarely spoke. The other memories did not offer any additional insight on who this girl was or what she was supposed to be. 

Sirius considered sending them to Lucan, who had been demanding since the events of Diagon Alley but was willing to accept that Sirius was fine and didn’t need a blasted mind healer. James had sent him a look at that but Sirius ignored him and hid under his bed for a bit until James started to get, god, weepy. Marlene was not much better. Sirius knew they needed to move soon or Hadrian may explode his kitchen with the amount of food he’s been making recently. Effie said Hadrian cooked his feelings but Sirius didn’t really believe her until recently. 

“Get dressed. We’re going out.” Hadrian interrupts his thoughts.

Sirius turns his head slowly, unaware his door was even opening. “Why are you always this quiet?”

Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him. He offers no additional commentary so Sirius pushes away from his desk and stretches. His back pops in several places, which likely isn’t good but wow, how fucking great it felt. Sirius shakes himself out, perking up.

“Where are we going?”

Hadrian stares at him. 

“...Do I need pants?” Sirius asks slowly. He supposes he does because Big Potter is dressed very smart and very much like a snack. His eyes keep inadvertently moving back to Hadrian’s forearms. 

Hadrian’s gaze flickers down to Sirius’ bare thighs. He looks back up, deadpanning, “No.”

“No? …Are… Are we having sex?” Sirius blinks. Wow, this is so forward. He hadn’t expected such things from Big Potter so soon! Sure, they flirted heavily when Sirius wasn’t wallowing in his suffering but they haven’t even kissed! Maybe this is what relationships are supposed to be like, Sirius thinks, humming thoughtfully. It's certainly how it was with Remus. Well, if you added more gifts and a healthy amount of Starbies and so many more board games. Hadrian was very upset upon learning Sirius had never played Clue before or Candy Land. You fucking named your- forget it. We’re playing right now, Hadrian had said and Sirius was not going to argue, especially when James yeeted himself over the couch. 

Hadrian immediately appears to be suffering but his mouth twitches. “I just said we were going out, Riri.”

Sirius gasps. How bold! “Is this a exhibitionist thing? Hades, you dog-”

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose. “Downstairs. Five minutes. If I have to come back up here, I will show you a dog.”

Sirius’ heart flips. Wow, what a threat! “Oh, wow.”

Hadrian sends him a withering look before disappearing down the hall. Sirius wishes he could’ve been faster on his response but it certainly would’ve gotten him bonked. He almost wants to try his luck but he also wants to know where they are going and if there is food involved or maybe a park. Yes, park is good, grand even! Regardless, Sirius gets himself together. The best part about being able to change any part of him is that he can now have whatever hair color he wants. 

He also feels a bit like a spy.  

Hadrian is waiting in the entryway, tall and brooding like some marble statue but he does a double take at Sirius’ auburn hair then lingers on the high waisted, pleated shorts that Sirius stole from his mother. They are small and they are fabulous and paired incredibly well with the satin cowl neck blouse he refused to let Marlene have. He hadn’t even worn it yet! Sirius also never expected to be a shorts person, mostly because Walburga said it was boorish but alas, Walburga is not here and dying painfully in her bed and Euphemia had adamantly told him to wear shorts if he wanted so he would. Sirius frowns suddenly, hands on his hips.

“Wait. Does this hair color make me look stupid?”

“No.” Hadrian answers bluntly. “You could be bald, dressed in a paper bag, and you’d still be stunning.”

Sirius’ cheeks warm. “Oh. Well. Yes.” 

He flips his hair and nods firmly. Hadrian sends him a pitying look, amused, and offers his arm. Sirius about swoons, pleased, linking their arms together. They’re gone in a flurry of shadows. Sirius resists the urge to frown heavily once they’ve arrived in a neat looking lounge, mind slowly scrambling back together. Something has changed with Hadrian’s mode of transportation but Sirius isn’t sure what exactly and it seems rude to ask. He also just doesn’t have a chance because a hostess is immediately greeting them, dressed in a delicate silver mask and an off the shoulder gown that faintly sparkles. 

Sirius feels a tad underdressed but she barely bats an eye, bowing deeply to them before gesturing to follow with a fluid sweep of her hand. Sirius does not whistle but it takes much restraint. His father would be turning restlessly on his grand star if Sirius made such a scene. Can’t have that, Sirius thinks happily, walking in step with Hadrian. They are led to a secluded alcove with an enchanted chandelier hanging above that casts a soft, warm glow across the table. It floats midair, a tiny glimmer of winking stars immediately encasing them when Sirius takes a seat. Hadrian settles fluidly across from him after and the hostess bows once more before fading away. 

“Oh. Is this a date?” Sirius asks, feeling a bit dazed at the series of low tea candles that suddenly appear. 

“It is.” Hadrian responds simply. “I even made sure they had your, as you call it, trashy wine. It was an eyebrow raising moment.”

“I fucking love moscato.” Sirius whimpers. “I don’t care that it is a dessert wine when it works with fucking everything- Wait. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” Hadrian snorts, tapping the table twice with his index finger. The table ripples subtly revealing a terribly long list of wine and spirits that are neatly categorized by region, color, and grape varietal which Sirius immediately ignores because fuck pinot noir. 

“Are you going to let me pick your drink?” Sirius bats his eyelashes. 

“Might as well keep it consistent.” Hadrian quips, lips quirking upwards.

This is the best day of Sirius’ life beyond having a date he did not have to plan himself. Hadrian, while a heavy connoisseur of cavity inducing Starbies, does seem to enjoy straight liquor. Orion Black was a brandy man but papi preferred whiskey as did mami when she wasn’t going shot for shot with Cassiopeia. Oh, there’s also vodka. Ugh. Sirius considers the choices with a heavy frown, shifting in his seat. 

“If it helps, I don’t care for whiskey.” Hadrian tells him, voice cradled with heavy amusement.

Well, that is that. Sirius taps his finger on St-Rémy and another selection shimmers before him. Jesus, this is so thorough, Sirius thinks, tapping VSOP then neat because he has seen Hadrian Potter’s upturned nose towards alcohol on ice. Sirius orders a moscato mule for himself because wow, they have it, incredible. Hadrian appears fond when Sirius beams at him like some stupid dog. The menu dissolves easily then two glasses materialize before them, varying in size. Sirius watches critically as Hadrian slowly circles his glass then takes a slow sip. His approval is great and Sirius claps himself on the back. 

“Mm. That is perfect.” Hadrian sighs, clearly pleased.

“It’s too much for me but papa liked it alot.” Sirius says happily. “I stole a bottle once when I was, like, I don’t know, maybe 11? Threw up everywhere. He wasn’t even angry with me. Instead he just laughed so hard he snorted and then chastised me heavily for causing such a disturbance. Tsk.” 

“I imagine you often made him snort.” Hadrian huffs, amused.

Sirius laughs. “I tried. He hardly ever smiled unless I was doing something stupid. So I did many stupid things.” 

“Do you think he ever caught onto it?”

“I think so.” 

It's not as if Sirius was particularly clever when it came to amusing other people. Crafty, perhaps, but often toned down because he could recognize that he was occasionally too much. Subtlety wasn’t his strongest suit unless it was something that would have eyebrows raised at him. James just got good about noticing his tells as did Marlene. Orion had never said he knew Sirius was being outrageous just to amuse him but his eyes would always pull slightly in the corners much like Arcturus’ would. 

“I think he did.” Sirius corrects. “Notice. May I ask you something?”

Hadrian cocks an eyebrow, nursing his glass. Stupid, it seems to say.

Sirius huffs, “I meant to ask before but life has been lifin’ or whatever. Why are you just an heir? You’re of age.”

Hadrian sets his glass down, jaw ticked to the side but he doesn’t seem upset, more ponderous. “I haven’t accepted it yet.”

“Accepted the title?” Sirius blinks.

“It’s complicated.” Hadrian sniffs. “The title is mine by right but not by conquest because I haven’t accepted that I am the master of such a thing. I don’t think it’s my place.” He shifts in his seat. “I don’t really want it to be my place. I believe death deserves to be free, to do as they’ve done for centuries without a human influencing it.” 

Sirius’ mouth drops open. It's unseemly so he clicks it back shut. “You-What? Death? The entity?”

“Yes.” Hadrian laughs. “Who else?”

“Well, I don’t know. I certainly wasn’t fucking expecting that.” Sirius responds, thrown. “Why wouldn’t you want that? Wouldn’t it be considered an honor?”

Hadrian’s mouth twists. “I have caused enough death in my time alive. I will cause more. I have no desire to be its keeper.” 

Oh, that makes sense. How noble, Sirius thinks. “But you’re still an heir. You were accepted so someone must disagree.”

“Death does.” Hadrian replies smoothly. “Being a Rudrapatha as well makes him… I don’t know. Fiendish. A perfect vessel, he said. I disagree. I make mistakes. I have a temper. I am human despite what others may say. What right do I have to exert my control over a being older than time itself?” 

“Death is a dude?” Sirius asks. Wow, what a day!

Hadrian laughs, startled. “I find you so delightful. Never change. When Death came to me when I turned 17, he came as a man. He has yet to become anything else.” 

Sirius flushes, pleased. “Do you think you’ll change your mind?”

“If his argument becomes more compelling, maybe.” Hadrian shrugs then snorts. “I believe he is courting my favor.”

Sirius blinks, awed. “Bro. I can’t compete with a literal god. Tell him to fuck off.” 

“You already have my favor, Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian winks. 

Oh. Oh. Well! Sirius scoffs, even though his heart is threatening to burst out of his chest and secrete fluids all over this beautiful table. “Me dropping in on you twice during life changing events really do it for you?”

Hadrian snorts. “It certainly grabbed my attention. I never expected James to befriend a Black. I never expected you at all yet I continuously remain pleasantly surprised. I never thought Lupin was good enough for you but I also didn’t think he or Pettigrew were good enough for James.”

“And you are?” Sirius asks, coy, and mostly fuck those guys. He damn well would die for James Potter and this has been written in the stars since James grinned in his face at 11 and showed him how to do a pinky promise. 

“You prefer direct when you aren’t watering yourself down so I’ll just say, I intend to prove I’m worth it. You need to know you’re worth it.” Hadrian says simply. “I don’t do shit half assed. You have my attention. You’ll keep it.” 

Sirius wonders if it's possible for a person to combust. “Does this mean I have to fight your evil ex, Liz?”

“God, that woman.” Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose. “I finally have her schedule down to a fucking science so there is peace. I’ve given Dilly a raise for her support. I was going to lose my fucking mind. I don’t understand how she still has a job.” 

“I did notice Dilly coming out of a new car.” Sirius says, watching Hadrian tap his finger once on the table and draw a small triangle. “Her old shit was so rusty.”

“It was.” Hadrian looks a bit crazed. “I don’t know shit about muggle mechanics but the sounds it made.”

“Right! I thought she hit a dog.” Sirius sniffs. “She assured me she didn’t but like, what was I supposed to think? It was wailing for fuck’s sakes. Wait. Are… Are we sugar daddies?”

Hadrian blinks. “What is that?”

Sirius blinks back. “What?”

Hadrian frowns. “Is that.. like a pimp?”

Sirius chokes. A series of dishes quietly appear, effectively distracting Sirius from any attempts of breath beyond wheezing. There are marinated firecrab claws basked in a savory sauce with a hint of rosemary and abraxan wings that have been dusted in powdered gold. Alphard would have a fit if he were still around. He loved his abraxan. Shit, I need to check on them, Sirius thinks. Hadrian still appears to be deeply troubled by the possibility of being a pimp.

“I don’t take her earnings.” Hadrian rubs his chin. “This seems inaccurate and offensive.”

“Omg, stop.” Sirius laughs. “A sugar daddy is someone who gives expensive shit to young women or dudes for… oh. That does sound bad.”

Hadrian frowns deeper. “Dilly is older than me. That makes no sense.”

“She is?” Sirius gasps, a bit flustered when Hadrian makes a plate for him. Hadrian sends him a speaking look that verges on threatening so Sirius concedes easily. “She doesn’t look old. I thought she was our age.”

“She’s nearly 30.” Hadrian sniffs. “We are their sponsors. So they can live, laugh, love as you say.”

“It's such a good line.” Sirius sighs dramatically. He presses his fork to one of the claws and the shell dissolves, revealing a decadent steaming filling. Sirius’ eyebrows shoot up, earning a huff of amusement. He takes a slow bite, curious, and immediately almost just starts fist pumping. Sirius settles on a whimper, delighted and heavily charmed. He wasn’t even a seafood person but wow. A miracle of miracles. 

“Right?” Hadrian grins, pleased. “You will likely never guess who introduced me to such a thing.”

Sirius blinks. “Effie? Cas? Omg, was it Marlene?”

“Hagrid.”

Sirius’ jaw drops. “Fuck off. No, he didn’t!”

Hadrian laughs, delighted. “Yes. I ran into him again when I was in Lautoka while busting a creature ring with Crowe. Unfortunately, he was involved but in an act of, I guess, being a vigilante. Crowe read him the riot act or whatever until he burst into tears and said he’d do anything to not be punished. Crowe being fucking Crowe just made this long sniffing noise and then said I want your crab. I didn’t know what the fuck he was on about until Hagrid pulled this entire fucking plate of firecrab out of his rucksack and then asked if Crowe would be willing to share half. Crowe then looks at me then back at Hagrid and says he needs to feed his child. That fucking bastard. Regardless, I had firecrab.”

Sirius barks out a laugh. He could see this image so clearly. “Fuck. That’s so good. How old were you?”

“18.” Hadrian says dismissively.

Sirius balks. “What the fuck? I haven’t done anything cool yet beyond patrols. I mean, fuck, I get to see Prongs but come on.”

“Chill, Riri.” Hadrian flicks his fingers. “You’ll be on a hunt soon. Likely with Crowe or Elias. I’d say maybe Cas but she’s been working with the muggle side of our operation, which would likely bore you to tears like it does her.”

“Why not you?” Sirius asks, curious.

Hadrian sends him a look. “I have mentioned I have a temper.” 

“Awwwe.” Sirius swoons. “You’re just a big momma bear. I have seen you with Prongs so keep your lies.”

Hadrian scoffs but doesn’t disagree, which is just as well. They do have to order more food because Hadrian eats very much like a Potter. Sirius still doesn’t understand where it goes but he does agree to whatever a crystallized moondew is. It is icy and a simple perfection that will chase Sirius in his dreams for years to come. Hadrian sends him a scathing look when the check arrives, pays it without thought and, curiously, pockets a sealed sliver of parchment that also pops up. 

“What? You thought this would be your only date? Idiot.” Hadrian sniffs but he does offer Sirius his hand when they move to leave. Sirius hesitates briefly before taking it, his stomach fluttering in response, and Hadrian simply intertwines their fingers. His palm is pleasantly warm. Oh, this is so nice, Sirius thinks. He flushes, feeling a bit silly and pleased and Hadrian lightly flicks him on the forehead. 

“Two choices. We continue our outing and I kiss you later or I kiss the shit out of you against the front door now and we go after.” Hadrian states evenly.

Sirius inhales. Jesus, this man. “Now?”

Sirius hates that his voice cracks, which is terrible, but Hadrian is ever merciful and simply gives him a mean smile before they pop away. Sirius hardly has time to right his already scrambled brain because his back hits a wall and Hadrian is dipping down to kiss him. Sirius kisses back eagerly, hands fisted in Hadrian’s shirt. It feels incredible and the experience is clear with where Hadrian puts his tongue, his teeth, the soft scrape of nails along Sirius’ skin when a hand pushes under his shirt. Hadrian’s hands slip down, caressing his thighs softly before grasping the back of them and lifts him easily. 

Oh, wow, Sirius thinks dazedly, trapped between the wall and Hadrian’s firm body. He moans softly in approval, wrapping his legs around Hadrian’s waist, his arms around his shoulders, greedily accepting his tongue when it swipes back inside his mouth. Sirius runs his fingers through the short hair along Hadrian’s nape, feels the soft strands beneath his fingers, the thickness of his cock swelling in his jeans as it presses into his ass. Sirius is, dreadfully, already imagining the limp he’d have with such a thing. 

“Oh, you guys are- I’m leaving! I’m so gone!” James shouts. There is a thud and a scramble and a whimpering ‘my babies’ before he scampers back from wherever he came from. Sirius’ shoulders shake with restrained laughter, Hadrian pressing his forehead against his, equally amused. 

“Shit. He said he’d be out.” 

“Lily should just move in at this point.” Sirius laughs. 

“Hasn’t she?” Hadrian asks, awed. 

“This is a great transition to informing you that we, as a unit, will be moving-”

Hadrian kisses him silent.  

Notes:

Heehee ok. Wanted to give yall some food. Some pizzazz. And I guess give Riri a break because alas, I am merciful :nails emoji: before i make him cry again :3c

Also, Hagrid is part giant. I know he got tendencies and I will not take criticism.

I feel like Hadrian took Sirius' "subtlety is boring" too directly but we are HERE and he is a quick study :flips hair: Also, I wanted Siri to have a safe space to talk about his father because he couldn't really do that before. Like yes, Orion Black was a murderous, side eyed bastard but he was still Sirius' father even if others couldn't understand that.

Chapter 21: The Last Brain Cells

Summary:

Sirius and James give Hadrian an offer.

Notes:

Tws, implied sexual harassment, threats, Effie's murdery temper

- Jame & Siri are that last brain cell
- Sirius' closet organization
- Sirius le Fay & James Potter vs Hadrian Potter
- put Sirius and James in bike shorts!!
- a House reveal! (like moving)
- Sirius' crumb of self worth
- Hadrian "I like you" Potter vs Sirius "I didnt know that" le Fay

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ok. Keep to the plan.” Sirius adjusts his baseball cap. He turns his head in the mirror, frowning deeply when he notices a few loose strands that did not make it into his ponytail. Sirius sulks until Hugin fixes it.

James nods firmly then frowns. His chest is bare with the words “Go, Team!” painted on the front in Slytherin colors. “Wait. Why do you get bike shorts?”

“Because it goes with this crop hoodie or whatever the fuck it’s called. Why?” Sirius looks at him, delighted. “Do you want bike shorts?”

“I think I do.” James rubs his chin thoughtfully, eying Sirius’ ass with deep consideration. “I need to do more leg days. Give me the shorts.”

“Yes.” Sirius hisses, punching the air. He waves a hand, summoning a variety of colors because Marlene was a fiend and Sirius loves a sale (he also just likes buying shit because who could stop him?). James looks over each offering with a critical gaze before pointing at a pair of hot pink bike shorts. Sirius doesn’t even know how those got in there because they clearly weren’t his. He smacks James’ hand, glaring at him. James sulks then points to a dark orange one. Sirius presses the shorts to James’ exposed chest, eyes narrowed. He tosses them behind him, feeling Hugin dutifully tuck them away. 

“Mint.” Sirius says suddenly. 

“Oh?” James’ eyes widen comically behind his glasses. 

“Or navy.” Sirius rubs his nose. “You always look good in navy. We could do purple-”

“You said it washes me out.” James pouts.

“You wanted fucking pastel. Of course, it washes you out! It washes me out and I’m a Victorian love child!” Sirius throws up his hands. He gasps. “Wait. I fucking have it. Hugs, section 3, article 2, please.” 

The shorts appear in a whirl of magic, olive and perfection. James makes a quick approving noise, already halfway out of his sweatpants, which is endearing. He swipes them before Sirius can change his mind, clearly struggling to get inside spandex like the jacked kangaroo he is. Sirius steadies him easily, earning a dopey grin.

“Wow. These are tight.” James whistles, turning this way and that. “Oh dude, look at my butt.”

“It looked at me first.” Sirius nods. “Which is a good sign. How did you lose your headband?”

“I don’t know.” James admits, looking lost. 

“You dumb deer.” Sirius laughs, plucking a few strands of hair from his head. “What color?”

“Let’s match. Gimme a hat.” James beams.

“Ok, ok.” Sirius snorts, turning the strands into a rich gray visor. He reaches up to carefully work it around James’ head. “Your hair is cooler than mine so it must be free to do its thing.”

James headbutts him gently. “Don’t start that shit. Your hair is perfect. It always smells good and then you have these little wisps. So cute.” He pales then whispers. “Don’t tell Lily.” 

“I solemnly swear.” Sirius nods, linking their pinkies. “Do you want to corner him or me?”

“Fuck. This is such a scary decision.” James laughs. “Both?”

Sirius gasps. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“What are you two plotting?” Hadrian’s voice rings out.

James shrieks, clutching Sirius to his chest, which, honestly, startles him more than Hadrian suddenly appearing in his doorway. There is a cup of coffee in his hands, eyes narrowed and sleepy. An incredibly tiny tuft of hair curls slightly upward suggesting that it may be getting longer than normal. Sirius would love to see Hadrian’s hair outside of an undercut but alas, he was devastatingly attractive regardless. Sirius coos. Hadrian gives him a tired look, clocking their outfits with growing confusion. 

James clears his throat, taking charge. “Brother, join us in the living room, please.”

Hadrian’s eyes narrow more. 

“Please.” James nods. 

“Pretty please.” Sirius nods as well. 

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. He works his jaw slowly, stepping back into the hallway and leaves with a, “you’ve got three minutes.” 

They high five, scrambling after him. James makes Hadrian sit directly in the middle of the couch, much to his amusement, watching them clamor into position. James clears his throat, puffing his chest and places his fists on his hips, standing tall and proud. 

“We are moving.”

Sirius smacks his arm. 

“Together.”

“Shit, we should’ve made you take a public speaking class.” Sirius rubs his nose. “It’s just Hadrian.”

“I know that’s why I’m so nervous. I’m sweating.” James laughs. He does look a bit sweaty.

Hadrian takes a quiet sip of coffee. “Who is moving and where?”

“As a unit.” Sirius supplies, waving his hand to summon his inheritance test copy. Alaric told him that if he was interested in seeing what his properties looked like all he had to do was press his finger over one and speak its name. It was curious magic. Goblin magic, Alaric had said. He then proceeded to get that strange look in his eyes when Sirius mentioned how cool goblin magic was like he always did whenever Sirius spoke of the Horde.

There was only one property in England, the one along the coast in Cornwall. Sirius presses a finger over the name and softly says, “Crimson Peak.”

An image stretches out before them. There is a manor, perched on a jagged coast overlooking a turbulent sea. It’s a towering, labyrinthe structure made of dark gray and blackened stone but unburdened by the years of wind and salt spray. The roofs are spire-like, rising dramatically into the sky like a fortress of old. Sirius does like the windows, tall and wide, framed with intricate vines made of iron and gold. There is a forest just beyond a wide set of wild gardens that seem to move and writhe even in such a still image. A series of tiny numbers appear beside it, signaling how many bedrooms, bathrooms, libraries, and shit, is that a potion’s dungeon? Lily was going to flip her shit as would Snape. 

There’s also a Runescape room, whatever the fuck that meant which sounds delightful and terrifying. He vaguely wonders if it’s similar to the Rune Rooms at the Hologurium he visited with Professor Babbins. She really wanted to get him into a higher level class but he had refused because Peter was a hopeless bastard so Babbins put additional effort in because he had “potential to do incredible things”. 

He wonders if his mother was good with runes but she had to have been with the terrible, great things she created. Beyond the ward trap, there was a core reduction, a mechanical bird that sucked the very life out of muggles and various weaponry she created for the French government under the alias of Lise Julian, posing as a french muggle. Sirius didn’t quite know how to feel knowing his mother assisted in massive amounts of destruction but well, Orion wasn’t a saint by any means. He had many people disappear in Sirius’ youth.

It appears the apple didn’t rot too far from the tree.

Hadrian’s eyes bulge comically. Sirius didn’t even know he could make such a face. “Where is this?”

“Cornwall, England.” James says confidently.

Sirius sends him an amused look. “It’s mine. Well, one of mine. The only place in England. We are moving in. All of us. Don’t say no.”

Hadrian’s eyes snap to him. “Sirius-”

“Everyone in one place, yeah?” Sirius says smoothly.

“Dude, there’s, like, 26 bedrooms and whatever the fuck a Runescape room is.” James says.

“Archaic shit.” Hadrian mutters, glaring at the image.

“Pot meet kettle.” Sirius says happily. 

Hadrian turns that scathing glare on him. He rubs his temples, sighing deeply, and looks at the image again. His expression seems pinched, stressed, like he isn't quite sure to do what’s been offered here. Hadrian looks away, jaw ticked to one side. James sends Sirius a reassuring look, winking. Sirius turns back to the image, slowly rotating it to see part of the cliff has been carved into a long staircase that spreads into a quiet beach that seems so still in comparison to the waves crashing against the other part of the house. 

“What do you want for this offer?” Hadrian asks quietly.

“Food.” Sirius deadpans.

Hadrian sends him a withering look. “I do that now.”

“Then feed me, Hades.” Sirius grins, delighted when those pale eyes dilate. “Otherwise, I may wither and die. Or live off of gas station burritos.”

James smacks him upside the head. “I’m sick of your shit. You know those things fuck your stomach up and make you vomit.”

“Yes, deer.” Sirius laughs.

The front door slams open followed by brief noise and Monty’s happy voice. “Boys! Shit, Ef. No one is- Oh. My sons! Ah! Shit, sorry. Give me one sec!”

“Fuck, why are you both here so early?” Hadrian mutters, clearly overwhelmed. “You said 6 pm. It’s not even fucking 8.”

“Maybe it's an intervention.” James says quietly. “Did we do anything?”

Hadrian blinks. “Did we?”

Monty clamors past the living room entrance and into the kitchen holding a massive dish of… something and it smells incredible. Effie is close behind him, smoothing a hand along her golden saree robes. Sirius does not know how she managed to yassify robes in general but he is here for it because Euphemia simply looks stunning as always. This intricate set of braids is also giving Sirius maximum envy. Her expression is pitying until it turns on them then specifically the image, eyes bulging much like her oldest son’s. 

“Your baba made lobster benedict and, naturally, must share with his favorites as he says.” Euphemia asks, curious, stepping into the living room. “Good morning, my loves. What are you three doing?”

A chorus of greetings ring out.

Sirius sends her a happy wave. “We are convincing Hades to move. Wanna be my live-in, alive mom? Oh, then I can bring my mom’s portrait and you can meet her because she has been bugging me about,” He clears his throat, shifting his face to resemble Isolde. “This lovely Lady Potter. I have heard many things about Rudrapatha. Oh, did you know that she was heavily influenced by your maa’s work in Kalakshaya?”

Sirius knew jackshit about time magic but “how else do you access ancestral echoes of other houses? I needed blackmail material” Isolde had scoffed and flipped her hair. She apparently used blood tipped hair pins to tie into other girls’ hair which is also what Euphemia’s mother, Anikha, was said to use in her efforts to court Effie’s baba and rid herself of any competition. Sirius would love to know what his mother got up to at Beauxbatons to need such things. Effie eyes go misty, which is alarming. She clears her throat softly. 

“Did she now?” Effie seems incredibly pleased. “Baba had never been more thrilled.”

“What did nani do?” James asks, awed.

“Best you don’t know.” Hadrian says pleasantly. 

“However, I’d rather not impose.” Effie says, lifting her chin. “We are fine in Potter Manor.”

“Yet you’re here.” James chirps happily. “Today and, like, almost every day .”

Effie glares at him. “I told you your-”

“I left it on the island. Wow, so many beautiful faces and people I love.” Monty says, cheerful, sliding an arm around Effie’s back. “Oh, what is this? This stone… goblin work?”

Hadrian nods. “Yup. Cas would love this shit.”

“She would!” Monty’s eyebrows shoot up. “Whose house is this? Ooh or are we scrolling properties? I love doing that. Some of those prices though. Hm. Astronomical for some lackluster bullshit. I can only imagine how much this costs. These details.”

“It’s one of mine.” Sirius tells him, rocking back and forth on his heels. “There are 26 rooms, six wings, and five libraries. Oh, a ritual room probably for blood sacrifices or whatever. Some weird dungeons too. Two potions lab for whatever fucking reason. You down?”

Monty blinks. He looks faint. “Your… One of…? 26?!” 

“Mhm.” Sirius grins at him. He perks up, gasping. “Oh, if you agree then Mip comes too and she can finally show me how to make proper sandcastles. I wonder if we could get a projector. I’ve never had a… What is it? Uhm, movie nights? I don’t know. I saw it in a book once when I was, like, 7. Oooh, we could build a fort! Seems really nice and fun with, like, minimal scream-”

Oh. He has revealed too much. Sirius’ mouth clicks shut, turning back to his parchment and ignoring the series of saddening looks he receives. His neck feels hot. Shit, how embarrassing. James drapes across him, sniffling wetly.

“Fine.” Hadrian flicks his fingers. “We’ll do it the first night. Bonfire.”

“Yes! Sandcastles and bonfire!” James agrees excitedly.

“Well, shit.” Monty sniffles. “Ef, we have to do family movie nights. We can have smores and popcorn scoops!”

Sirius blinks then frowns. “Sorry, I don’t know what any of that is. Is it English?”

“You don’t…” Hadrian seems to short circuit. He presses his fingers into his eyes. 

James squawks. 

“Oh. Oh, no. This must be correct.” Monty agrees furiously. “Dear, we must consider this request strongly.”

“I need a list of things you have not managed to experience yet, Sirius Altair Potter le Fay.” Effie says. Her voice is murderous. “I, also, need a list of ground rules as this is your home.”

“But… it would be ours?” Sirius is so confused. He was not about to tell Fleamont or Euphemia Potter what to do when he can barely remember to braid his hair before going to sleep. He has lost numerous scrunchies just this morning. “Maybe a hug a day. I like hugs.”

“Per person.” Hadrian sniffs.

“Starting right now.” James lifts Sirius easily, swinging him back and forth. “Yes! They agreed! Oh, oh. Did you tell maa about your date yet, Hadz? She would be sooo proud of how you treated our-”

“Really?” Monty gasps, delighted.

“With who?” Effie’s face does a frightening shift between outrage, fury, and a threatening offense. Monty neatly takes a practiced step back, expression serene. Effie bristles, face going red, hands on her hips. “With who? If it is that blasted bitch from the coffee shop again, I swear to fucking god.”

Sirius chokes because what. He has never heard Euphemia Potter use such language!

“Maa, please.” Hadrian laughs, rubbing his face. “It was not the girl from Starbucks.”

“Good.” Effie spits. “Such a.. Oooh, I can’t even say it. What kind of person asks someone in front of their mother if they’d prefer she spit or choke and swallow? At her job! In front of his mother! The goddamn nerve. The audacity. She fucking winked at me! How crude must one-”

“Maa, let’s go eat, ok.” James suggests hurriedly, clearly realizing he has opened a box of nargles or whatever that muggle phrase is. 

“Come, dear. We must give Hari a chance to explain himself.” Monty dutifully steers a fuming Euphemia out of the living room, who is still going on about how distasteful she finds Liz. Sirius had no idea this woman was that bad. Hadrian really downplayed this as just normal thirsty behavior but clearly Sirius needed to meet this evil-not-ex and fucking deck her. If this was Hadrian’s initial step into dating no fucking wonder he didn’t bother beyond being a little hoe. Which good for him. Sirius will not shame as he, too, was a little hoe. But now he is a changed man, who must turn her into a mouse or something. Hugin sends a questioning pulse. 

“Oh, I can do that.” Sirius says aloud, hands braced on James’ shoulders, who has still not let him down. “Do you want her to be a mouse?”

Hadrian has his face in his hands. He drags his fingers down slowly. “She’s irrelevant. Jay, I’m going to pop the shit out of you.”

“Oh, dude, don’t do that.” James whimpers, squeezing Sirius tightly. “You love me even when I’m stupid.”

“Heaven’s help me.” Hadrian mutters, pushing to his feet. “You dig any more graves today and they will be your own.”

“Yessir.” James sniffs. 

“We don’t have to tell them.” Sirius suggests gently.

“Don’t be stupid.” Hadrian flicks his fingers dismissively. The tips of his ears are red. “I was going to tell her tonight. In a way that did not drive her blood pressure up.” 

James laughs weakly, letting Sirius down. He scampers off quickly before Hadrian can react, which is likely just Hadrian choosing to be merciful considering Sirius has seen Big Potter move when he intends to. Sirius slides neatly up to him, nudging his arm with his shoulder, and he feels a bit nervous because while he’d rather not hide things from the Potter parents, he does understand this is new and maybe Hadrian just doesn’t want them to know.

“You’re being dumb. I don’t have shit to hide.” Hadrian says, curt, wrapping an arm around him. Sirius slumps in relief. Hadrian does not drop his hand from where it rests on Sirius’ forearm even when they enter the kitchen and Sirius finds himself pleased like some little bird. 

Effie immediately clocks the gesture as well as how Hadrian tugs out a seat for Sirius and settles beside him after he sits. Monty sways obliviously beside her, supplying plates of lobster benedict with a cheerful smile as he babbles about the sparrow nest he discovered in one the old treehouses at Potter Manor. Effie’s eyes narrow slowly, head tilting upward, and meets Hadrian’s gaze. Sirius had originally thought this was a Monty thing but maybe it was an Effie thing with how they communicate in subtle shifts of expression and jaw ticks. 

James is, also, watching, slowly funneling food into his mouth. Effie’s eyebrows shoot up, mouth falling open. Her gaze snaps to Sirius then back to Hadrian. James snorts. Monty seems to realize what’s happening, leaning back in his seat with a curious expression. Oh, maybe she doesn’t like that, Sirius thinks, trying to categorize the rapid shift in her face. Well, it's only been one date and a lot of making out so Sirius doesn’t think he’d be too crushed by it ending but he definitely doesn’t want Euphemia’s disappointment. That would be bad, Sirius’ mouth twists in discomfort. Really bad. Really messy and not great at all. 

Hadrian flicks him softly on the forehead. “So no. Not Liz.”

“I had not expected this.” Effie gasps, evidently delighted. “Ah, that makes so much more sense.”

“What is happening?” Monty asks. 

“You’re not mad?” Sirius asks at the same time. 

“Haz took Pads on a date.” James tells an increasingly confused looking Monty. He gasps in delight.

“Absolutely not.” Effie hisses sharply. “My relief is great. Hari has such a sensitive heart-”

“God, maa, stop.” Hadrian groans, embarrassed. 

Sirius slumps heavily, suddenly exhausted. He massages the bridge of his nose with a quiet sigh as the Potters chatter excitedly around him. He wasn’t aware he was still building up in panic. Hadrian slides a hand onto his thigh and squeezes softly. Sirius curls his fingers around his. The remainder of breakfast goes seamlessly along before Lily arrives and then Euphemia is on her like a bat from hell with a heavy binder that has James groaning in embarrassment. Hadrian takes this moment to pull Sirius aside, his expression searching. 

“I’m fine.” Sirius laughs quietly. He rubs his face. “I didn’t know I was so worried. Guess I hadn’t thought of it.” 

“I get it.” Hadrian’s face softens. “I have something for you.” 

Sirius frowns heavily, confused, as Hadrian rubs his hands together. A simple box appears in his palm and he presses it gently into Sirius’ hands. The box expands. Sirius opens it slowly and nearly balks because for such a, seemingly, harmless looking thing what’s inside has him reeling. A silver necklace sits inside in the shape of a celtic knot, laced with red garnet like the one on his lordship ring and a singular rich onyx that looks like the burst of a star. Sirius inhales shakily, looking up at Hadrian, whose mouth twitches in the corner. 

“Are you courting me, Hadrian Potter?” Sirius asks softly, chest tight.

“I have been, Sirius le Fay.” 

Oh, Sirius thinks, feeling a bit faint. There was the ring before he visited Lucan, the amethyst bracelet Sirius wears to work occasionally, the pendant. Holy shit, he thinks wildly. This was all even before their date. Third in his year, still a dumbass. Sirius sways, elated, and quickly schools his expression even as Hadrian’s shoulders shake with restrained laughter. 

“I knew that.” Sirius lies like the liar he is. His face is incredibly warm. 

“Did you?” Hadria asks, amused. 

“No.” Sirius blurts out then laughs. “God, stop. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m laughing with you.” Hadrian grins and well, fuck, he is fine.

Sirius scoffs, pushing the box into Hadrian’s broad chest and turns around, tugging his hair over his shoulder. He can hear the quiet huff of amusement then feels Hadrian’s hands on his skin, the cool glide of the necklace sliding neatly in place. Sirius peers down at it, gently touching the shattered star with a strange emotion he can’t quite place. Hadrian kisses the nape of his neck, hands sliding to grasp Sirius’ shoulders. Sirius shivers, turning to him, and lifts up to kiss him. 

There is a click. “Mm, yes, that is perfection.” Monty sighs happily. 

“Isn’t it?” Effie’s voice follows. “I will have it developed immediately. It will join the wall. If you break up, I will murder you both. On that topic, do you prefer lilacs or comfrey?”

Hadrian groans, turning to them as Sirius presses his face into his collarbone out of embarrassment. “Stop being scary, for one. You know you’re allergic to lilacs.”

“That’s how you know I am serious.” Effie responds dismissively. “It’ll hurt me to bind you to such things but it must be done.” 

“Maa.”

“Oh, yes, honey.” Effie sighs then gasps. “Who do we threaten in this situation to ensure they stay together?”

“James.” Monty answers seriously.

“Now wait a second!” James’ hollers from down the hall. 

Sirius laughs. 

Notes:

Heeheeeheeeheeeeeeeeee. Ok cool. So, upon writing this chapter, I got like filthily inspired for whatever reason and have started gutting a new idea which is terrible for my current psyche. Alas one must ride the mania.

Current considerations: Sirius x Death (side eye) or Sirius x Theodore Nott (its a time travel fic either way)

Regardless there will be a sprinkle of Drarry and a lot of Blaise because wow, a man! But I'm indecisive. I did consider wolfstar but I got some fucked up shit planned for them eventually ehe. I also wanted to do a more... modern??? fic??? Idk. The stars speak, I just listen. The muse of suffering speaks, so I listen.

Take your meds if you haven't! ^^/

Chapter 22: Hey, Hey, Lover

Summary:

Sirius' need to be insufferable.

Notes:

Tws, they be fuckin', discussions of sexual content (hello, marlene), das it.

- Sirius "this is my dumb banana room" vs Hadrian "am i the banana"
- their weird way of flirting
- Its giving jazz hands perhaps
- Cas & Hades are both temper fueled besties
- Marlene's perpetual need to get Sirius in trouble

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“But I worked so hard on it.” Sirius pouts.

Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly suffering. He had already bickered with Mipsy over who made breakfast until Euphemia told her son to sit down and glare at a cup of coffee before she bopped him upside the head because it was Mipsy’s day. Hadrian did indeed glare at his cup of coffee, stewing like an offended canine of some kind. Now he still does not know peace. Sirius is not trying to be difficult but he did want to show him the “timeout” room before he left and sync him into the wards. 

“Why?” Hadrian asks, sounding a bit desperate.

“Why not?” Sirius counters, crossing his arms. “You leave in two days. I want to be prepared. I know you have, like, a super high success rate or whatever but you also have a tendency to be a big banana. That is what this room is for.”

Hadrian peers around once more, expression torn between fury and gratitude. Perhaps Sirius has wounded his pride a bit with this, but that wasn’t his intention. He knows Hadrian does extremely well for himself in his field of work despite his age but records and knowing him were separate things. Hadrian will be gone for several weeks, hunting a particularly nasty wizard, and likely do something stupid like snatch up another Greyback on his “way out” because he is a man of opportunity and idiocy. 

Now. He had a place to drop into when his magic is doing super terrifying things and, hopefully, not accidentally murder anyone. Dorcas had demanded to be keyed into these wards so she could monitor as well. Sirius was not about to argue with Dorcas Meadowes, who was simply so beautiful when she was angry at other people, Sirius did not want that anger directed at him. He preferred to admire from afar and laugh in pity.

Hadrian makes a strange face, blanking completely, jaw working very, very slowly. “You-”

“Dumb.” Sirius says firmly. 

Hadrian turns to him, eyes narrowed. Sirius lifts his chin, meeting that stare head on. He doesn’t know how long they stand there, staring at each other, but it is a win when the tension in Hadrian’s shoulders subtly leaves. Sirius grins and Hadrian glowers at him, displeased. He flicks his fingers with a scoff, clearly sulking and Sirius must resist the urge to coo because Hadrian would get murderous and they are having a serious conversation right now so it would be bad if his mind went any deeper than the fine line its currently on. 

Sirius has not experienced any relationships beyond Remus despite how many people he has hooked up with but he is certain that someone looking pissy is not supposed to make him swoon like some lovesick child. Sirius thinks it may just be a Potter thing. Possibly because they were only ever murderous towards other people in regards to him, which he loves. Oh. Snape did say Sirius had a type and James agreed but… Sirius just didn’t find any of them very scary beyond Hadrian. Fabian was allergic to shellfish for fuck’s sake. 

“Thank you.” Hadrian mutters, pissy.

Sirius’ heart flips. “Duh. What will I eat if you do something stupid? Gas station burritos?”

Hadrian sends him a withering look but his mouth twitches. “Is that all I’m good for?”

Oh, Sirius thinks wildly. “Your hugs are acceptable.” 

“Just acceptable?” Hadrian asks, expression morphing into amusement. 

Sirius scoffs, mustering a smirk. “If you have to ask, then clearly you believe them to be lackluster.”

“Ah, I hadn’t considered that.” Hadrian hums, stepping neatly into Sirius’ space. “Surely not too lackluster considering how you essentially become goo in my arms.” 

“Do I?” Sirius ask, coy, tilting his head slowly. “Perhaps I do the same with James.”

A slight lie. James Potter hugs Sirius often, so often that he is the reason Sirius even enjoys hugs. It had been so awkward that first time, being 11 and realizing you’ve never hugged anyone in your entire existence. Sirius has laughed more in James’ arms than anywhere else. Hugging James meant familiarity, comfort, hugging his brother felt different, the way Hadrian arm’s would curl around Sirius’ back, how his hand would rest on the back of his neck.

“What a compliment. James gives fantastic hugs.” Hadrian quips. “Such a strange face you’re making right now, Riri.”

“Am I?” 

“Mhm.” Hadrian hums, reaching out to brush a single curl that’s fallen across Sirius’ forehead behind his ear. Sirius feels his face go warm and Hadrian’s lips quirk upwards, eyes alight with a dark glee. “Gotcha.”

“Do you?” Sirius presses, bold. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this direct despite how much he claims he is. It’s not like Sirius was fucking ugly but sometimes, he was fucking dumb, and Hadrian Potter was a tall drink of delectable. Hadrian doesn’t retract his hand, fingers lingering along the side of Sirius’ face, the corners of his eyes pulling slightly like he’s particularly amused but that gaze is unwavering. Hadrian cups Sirius’ neck, dipping his head, and presses their lips together. Sirius melts against him. 

Hadrian’s mouth is so warm, the slight scrape of stubble on the hard line of his jaw, and Sirius parts his lips for his tongue, grasping the side of his neck just as his back hits a wall. Sirius hadn’t even realized they moved or left at all really, briefly categorizing the familiar stretch of Hadrian’s bedroom, then he is sufficiently distracted by Hadrian’s hands pushing under his shirt, how they slide over his hips. Sirius shivers in response, gathering the back of Hadrian’s shirt in his hands. 

Hadrian pauses to rip it off and then he’s back in Sirius’ space, crowding him against the wall, thick muscles on display. Sirius feels his mind shortcircuit, stomach twisted in heavy knots, and moans softly into his mouth. Hadrian grins against him, working Sirius’ shirt up and he lifts to take it off, whimpering when that doesn’t pause Hadrian’s ministrations, the drag of his tongue on his skin, how he seeks out Sirius’ mouth even with his shirt tangled on his head. 

Sirius manages to get it off, distracted and haphazard, slinging an arm around Hadrian’s neck as he drags him closer. Fingers curl around the waistband of his sweatpants, a hand slipping inside to palm at his already leaking cock and Sirius gasps, pressing into Hadrian’s hand. 

“Bed or wall?” Hadrian murmurs in his ear.

Sirius’ stomach twists hotly. He manages to gather himself remarkably, flicking his hand to drag Hadrian’s armchair over. “Chair. Wanna ride you.”

“Oh?” Hadrian licks his lips, settling back in the chair. He pats his lap, sliding his hands along Sirius’ thighs when he straddles him. Sirius leans down to kiss him, curling an arm around his neck as he works Hadrian's jeans open. Fuck, I am not prepared for this, Sirius thinks wildly, feeling the thick cock twitching in his hand when he gets it out. His reservations are immediately tossed away when Hadrian grips his hips, pulling them flush together, and that clever mouth is back on him. 

Sirius pushes up to transfigure his sweats into a fairly large sweater because well, he likes these sweatpants and he would like to not have to hunt them down or buy new ones or get out of this lap just to take them off. Hadrian immediately appears dazed at such a sight, which is grand because Sirius didn’t even know he could make such a face. His gaze is heavy lidded, caressing Sirius’ thighs with a sort of reverence Sirius had not been expecting and honestly makes him feel a teeny tiny bit embarrassed but well, live, laugh, love, and all that shit. 

“I need you in my clothes.” Hadrian comments absently, reaching between Sirius’ legs to prod at his hole. Sirius suddenly feels slick and stretched and he makes a confused noise, peering down to where Hadrian’s hand disappears beneath his sweater. Oh, that is so weird, Sirius thinks wildly, panting as his brain finally begins to catch up to his body. 

“Aw, pretty thing looks so confused.” Hadrian purrs, tangling his fingers in Sirius’ hair and tugging him down into a filthy kiss. Sirius whines, cock leaking onto Hadrian’s bare abdomen, as he scrambles to get his thoughts coherent enough because wow, he is overwhelmed already. Hadrian slips three fingers inside him easily and makes a low, thoughtful noise before adding another. Sirius grabs at his shoulders tightly, pushing back on his fingers as they begin to move inside him. Oh, fucking fuck, Sirius thinks, accepting Hadrian’s tongue when he kisses him. 

Wait, a second, I am not some virgin, Sirius huffs, shoving Hadrian hard against the armchair, earning an amused look. Sirius glares weakly at him, guiding Hadrian’s cock to his entrance. Ah, maybe I fucking am, Sirius feels crazy, likely looks it with how Hadrian’s eyes dilate as Sirius sinks down slowly. Sirius bites his lip, blinking furiously as he struggles against the onslaught of feeling ripping through him. Oh, man, Sirius thinks, sitting for a moment. This shouldn’t be legal. Hadrian needs to be placed in Azkaban immediately for the threat to society. Lays pipe in fucking deed, Sirius thinks wildly. 

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius moans, pressing his forehead into Hadrian’s neck. “K-Knew you’d have a stupid dick.”

“Mhm.” Hadrian grasps his ass tightly but doesn’t move, body taut with tension. “Fuck, just breathe, sweetheart.” 

Sirius exhales harshly, clawing at Hadrian’s shoulders as he pushes himself up. He feels stretched beyond belief, cock squirting precome and drooling heavily between them. It’s amazing, the worst, and so distinctly indescribable that he almost starts crying like an idiot. Sirius pants, sliding his fingers along the fine hair of Hadrian’s nape. 

“That’s it, baby.” Hadrian coos, stroking his thighs. 

Sirius lifts his head, dragging Hadrian into a kiss. His mind is swimming. Hadrian licks into his mouth, caressing his chest, his ribs before sliding back down to his hip. Sirius clenches around him, reveling in the hot pleasure that shutters across Hadrian’s face. Sirius feels Hadrian melt when he begins to move slowly. He pushes back, settling his hands on Hadrian’s knees and the angle is everything. Sirius moans, working his hips harder. His head tips backwards and he nearly shouts when Hadrian begins to move with him. The glide is incredible and even with his insides feeling like they’re being rearranged, Sirius has little complaints. 

Sirius shudders when Hadrian curls a hand around his cock, bottom lip between his teeth and begins to bounce on Hadrian’s cock, gripping his knees tightly. Hadrian swears low and it stokes a burning ember inside him. He grasps Sirius’ hips tightly, guiding his hips long and deep as he leans up to suck hard on Sirius’ neck. Sirius wraps an arm around him, mewling into his mouth when his cock nudges deeper. He blearily notices the hard lines of red decorating Hadrian’s shoulders, knowing they’ll leave marks, hoping they leave marks. Good, Sirius thinks wildly, ears ringing with the wet slap of skin on skin. 

Sirius mouths at Hadrian’s neck, pushing him back down, feeling the shiver it invokes, how Hadrian swears filthy in his ear. Hadrian shifts, just a touch, and Sirius’ vision goes white. He clamps up tight, trembling with a pitiful noise that rips out of his throat. Shit, Sirius whimpers, grasping Hadrian’s forearm. 

“Sucha good boy, Riri.” Hadrian purrs, nipping at his ear. Sirius flushes hotly, slowly realizing his cock is still hard and leaking profusely. Oh, that’s never happened, he thinks, dazed, and god, he just wants to cum, how did he not?

“O-oh, shit, ah, shit.” Sirius sniffles, tears clinging to his lashes, overwhelmed and fractured and god, it’s too much, too much. “Fucking-fuck. Fuck.”

“Aww, does my boy want something?” Hadrian croons, smile nasty and wild and Sirius cums on a particularly savage thrust with that image seared into his mind. His voice breaks, chest heaving with a sob and Hadrian swallows up the noise with his mouth, holding him so tight and sweet that it rattles Sirius completely. He runs his fingers through the mess on his stomach, a frightening expression crossing his face.

“Fucking shit. I didn’t even- god, you’re fucking perfect.” Hadrian groans, working his cock so deep. His hips stutter, a quiet moan tumbling from his lips. “Fuck. I’m close.”

“Inside me. Please. Please. Please.” Sirius begs. 

“Anything.” Hadrian kisses him, pounding up into him as he holds Sirius down hard. Sirius grips his shoulders tight, pressing his face into Hadrian’s neck, and gasps quietly at the flood of warmth that follows a series of heavy twitches. He shivers in pleasure, greedily sniffing at Hadrian’s skin as he moves his hips to work every last drop. Hadrian shudders beneath him, angling his head up by a fistful of his hair and Sirius sighs when he kisses him, thighs trembling in exertion. Hadrian’s cock twitches in response. Sirius sags against him, eying the scratches with some guilt. He lifts his hand to heal them when Hadrian stops him, intertwining their fingers together. Hadrian kisses his knuckles softly. “Leave it.” 

Sirius hums, settling in Hadrian’s lap, still very much impaled on his cock, head lolling on his collarbone as Hadrian massages his shaking thighs. Oof, I could nap, Sirius thinks tiredly. 

“Talk to me.” Hadrian says lowly. 

“I’m so good.” Sirius manages a laugh. “Hungry.”

Hadrian snorts. “Can’t have that. I have gumbo for you.”

“Oh, fuck yes. When did you do that?” Sirius nearly feels moved to tears. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to bother you.” Hadrian replies smoothly, rubbing Sirius’ back.

Sirius lifts his head to glare at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb.”

Hadrian laughs, startled. “You barely sleep enough as it is.”

“Pot meet kettle.” Sirius says dryly. “Gatsby literally bullies himself into my bed every night. Not to mention Umbra’s grumpy ass, ah, I forgot you were still inside me.”

Sirius flushes hot in embarrassment, hearing a soft squelch when he sits up. Wait, was that a twitch? Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches, fingers flexing on Sirius’ hips, and Sirius glares at him. Hadrian grins lazily, thrusting up, slow and gentle. 

“Bro.” Sirius gapes.

“I can’t help it.” Hadrian laughs, lifting up to kiss Sirius’ chin. He grips his thighs tightly. “How can I when I have such a stunning creature in my lap?”

Sirius’ cheeks warm. He scoffs, “What’s your animagus? Do you even have one? This is dog behavior.”

“Woof.” Hadrian purrs, capturing Sirius’ lips in a hard kiss.

If you asked Sirius le Fay later how he found himself in their new, massive sitting room, he would be unable to tell you. Umbra has taken advantage of his boneless behavior by nesting directly on his chest like some strange rug. Marlene is chattering animatedly on the couch across from him but he can barely hear a word, dazedly blinking at the intricate details of a woman beheading some strange creature inked beautifully into the ceiling. 

Marlene’s head pokes into his line of sight with a heavy frown then she grins, seedy and terrible. “Ah, so this is what you look like when you’re well fucked.”

“Please be nice to me I have had a literal hard day.” Sirius whimpers. 

“No. No. You must tell me everything.” Marlene pushes onto his chest, unbothered when Umbra sends her an ugly look. “How fat was it?”

“I can still feel it.” Sirius blinks, dumb. “Wow. Wow. He’s got a filthy mouth. I think I have a praise kink.” 

Sirius has learned a lot of things about himself today like the fact that greatly enjoys having his hair pulled and being bitten and that he is particularly flexible- let’s stop this direction of thoughts, Sirius thinks, panicked.

Marlene sends him a pitying look. “How are you just now realizing this? You’d get all flustered whenever James ruffles your hair and tells you good boy.”

“Well, I’ve never fucked James now, have I?” Sirius snips.

Marlene blinks. “You haven’t?”

Sirius rears on her, startled. “What? No, we’re bros. I mean, we made out when we were like, I don’t know, 13? I’ve made out with you numerous times and we never fucked.”

Marlene gasps. “I really thought you two had.”

“Ugh. No. James is too soft.” Sirius dismisses easily. “We’d be married before I realized he likes me.”

“That’s because you’re stupid.” Marlene nods sagely.

Sirius nods as well then frowns. “Hey.”

Marlene grins widely. Her expression softens and she slumps on his chest. “I think he’s a good fit for you. I have since we went to that muggle bar. I’m so used to you defending us or yourself from creeps or if Jay isn’t around but wow, Hadrian just swooped in so easily. He was so scary.”

“He really was.” Sirius laughs. “He does it at work too or whenever we’re out. We went to, ahh, where was it? Istanbul, I think. I guess he felt the guy seated next to us was getting too close. Possessive bastard.”

“As he should.” Marlene sniffs, haughty. “Wait a fucking second. Istanbul? Where was my invite, you fucking cretin? I’m getting sick of your shit. First, you move into this beautiful house and I am only informed via owl! Then you-“

“Omg.” Sirius whimpers. “It’s not like I plan these visits. He just shows up in my room and tells me to act human. Plus, the fucking southeast wing is yours, you dumb bimbo-“

“It is?!” Marlene shrieks, clamoring to her feet. “Show me right now. This instance or I will… I don’t know but I’ll do something!”

“What do you say, Umbra? Shall we show this rowdy woman her wing before she turns us both into chicken wings?” Sirius asks, lazily rubbing at Umbra’s long neck. Umbra sends Marlene another ugly look but dutifully shuffles onto Sirius’ shoulder when he sits up. It is an immediate mistake because fuck, he is sore.  

Welp, live, laugh, love, Sirius thinks happily, limping to his feet. Hadrian insisted on healing him but god, what does that mean when you’ve been stuck on a spit like a fucking pig? He didn’t need mothering even if he did enjoy his delusional naps on Hadrian’s chest. Marlene sends him a leer that he sneers at. 

They pass by Hadrian and Dorcas having a furious stare down in the entry hall, Hadrian’s shoulders line with tension, Dorcas’ jaw clenched tight. The ground subtly trembles beneath them and there is a spark of hot magic. 

“They are so scary.” Sirius whispers loudly.

“Aren’t they?” Marlene hisses, grasping his arm. “If you two bitches kill each other, Siri and I will have to marry each other. I’ll have to figure out how dicks work but at least, I know he gives good head.”

Sirius’ mouth twitches because fucking Christ, this woman. That unified head turn is truly the most terrifying thing Sirius has ever witnessed in his life, especially with how that tense ferocity rises tenfold as Marlene’s words register. Sirius feels a bit hot in the collar. He sways a bit because wow, what a look from such attractive people.

“That’s all.” Marlene simpers, flipping her hair before dragging Sirius down the hall. 

“I don’t think I can take getting railed again.” Sirius admits quietly. “We have to be on our best behavior.”

“Damn, how many times did you go?” Marlene laughs.

Sirius blinks. “I don’t know. I can’t even count orgasms because three of them were dry.”

Marlene’s head snaps to him. “Shut up! You lie.”

Sirius gasps, offended. “I would never.”

“How?” Marlene demands. “I have been trying to succeed at such a thing. Cassie’s a squirter, which, mm, delightful and delicious but fuc-“

“Marlene McKinnon.” Dorcas hisses furiously from behind them, startling them both. Shit, she was almost as quiet as Hadrian. Sirius didn’t even know they followed but clearly Marlene has lit a fire.

“Chill, Cas. It’s just Siri.” Marlene scoffs. “You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to this platonic love affair. I know more about Sirius’ dick than James most likely and vice versa.”

It’s true, Sirius thinks. He even took her to get her VCH piercing when they were 15 with fake muggle licenses and she about broke his hand. Sirius also supposes he charmed the piercer into it because well, they definitely did not look 18. 

“Is that so?” Hadrian’s voice follows slowly. Mm, there is a threat there. Sirius pointedly does not look back at either of them.

Marlene sends Sirius a sympathetic look, eyes glittering with mirth.

Sirius levels her with a withering glare.

Notes:

cooooool. So, in the comments, I have placed two (maybe three I haven't looked at my docs at aaaaall). I guess tell me which premise/ draft seems more interesting.

Next chapter will have Crowe, Artemis (hair flip) and the dreaded existence of becoming a father

Chapter 23: Daddy's Home

Summary:

I forgot to put a chapter title so alas, I update this and make it stupid.

Notes:

Tws, threats, discussions of sex, discussions of bad parenting, discussions of violence, discussions of murder, child abandonment (implied), discussions of injury, discussions of animal experimentation, this might all sound bad but its just vibes

- Barty "oh no" vs Sirius & Crowe "oh yes"
- Sirius "I am kinkshaming" le Fay
- Dogs in their owner's clothes
- Unsurprising no one, Crowe is a Girl Dad ™
- Roderick "If my lady doesn't let me sniff her i will fuckin' cry" Crowe
- Benjamin Thorncroft enters the Chat
- Crowe & Thorncroft, divorced work husbands, united in in debauchery
- Siri gets a gift

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Barty glares weakly at Sirius. 

Sirius blinks, innocent and, perhaps, the devil.

“I’m simply saying I have no need for it.” Sirius smiles sweetly. “The house in Merton is only a three bedroom. Knowing your luck, you’d end up with fucking twins.”

Barty pales comically. He rubs his face with both hands, appearing on the verge of an attack of some sorts. Sirius feels no pity as this is what happens when you keep your wife stuffed like a pastry. He doesn’t know if that’s necessarily true but he had accidentally walked in on baby Lovegood and Rosier numerous times until they decided on designated cupboards because fuck, there was nothing more cold water dousing than seeing a child string up another child. Granted, Sirius was not much better but he felt as if he learned too much about Barty in those moments. It was like learning Regulus sucked dick or kissed in general. Fucking weird.

Sirius sighs, heavy and dramatic, leaning back in his chair. “I knew I should’ve given you the talk.”

“That’s what I said.” Crowe sniffs from beside him, setting out his massive lunch on the table. There was certainly enough to feed a party. He is in another one of his wife’s shirts, the image of an African woman holding a beautiful pot on her head, clothes elaborate and glittering, but you could hardly tell for how stretched the fabric is on Crowe’s chest. He also appears to have stolen one of her cardigans. 

Sirius would say he feels bad for her but he’s not much better considering he’s in one of Hadrian’s turtlenecks and wore one of his jackets to work… and perhaps, also swiped one of his beanies. He also just missed him and its barely been two weeks. Sure, he got fucked six ways til Sunday but what was just that when you could have a whole man to sleep on. 

Barty slumps heavily in his seat, absently staring at the ceiling before looking back at them. He deadpans, “I’m going to be a shit dad.”

Crowe chokes. 

“You will not.” Sirius hisses, offended. “Despite your general entourage, you were the most easily approachable Slytherin and that is why firsties flocked to you. You need to give yourself more credit, Artemis. You are patient even if you bitch often. You are, god, I can’t believe I must be the one to tell you this, kind when you’re not on one of your tangents. And. And why wouldn’t you be a good dad when you know what a bad one looks like? How?”

“le Fay is right.” Crowe nods sternly, setting a heavy helping of steamed dumplings in front of both of them. “You’re both too thin. Makes me irate. Potter’s not here and it fucking shows. Eat it all or I’ll spill your intestines, season ‘em with black and cayenne pepper and sow ‘em back into your useless bellies then feed you to somethin’ scarier than me.” 

“Oh, shit.” Barty looks alarmed. 

“Oh, shit.” Sirius says at the same time, cowed. 

“God, I don’t even know how to cook.” Barty whispers, eyes watering.

“Alright.” Crowe cracks his knuckles, expression dark and serious. “Fatherhood is terrifying but it is great, it is powerful. You will not believe how much you can love a once insignificant bundle of cells after it comes into this world alive and screaming. Tell me, Lovegood. Would you raise your hand to a child because they are wailing in hunger? Would you dismiss their joys, their loves because it doesn’t match your own?" He strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Or you could just not bother. If they ever get too much, you can always take ‘em elsewhere or give them up for-”

“What? No. She’s mine.” Barty says furiously. 

“You’d kill for this kid?” Crowe presses.

“As if you have to fuckin’ ask. I’ve killed for less important shit.” Barty spits.

“But you’re scared.”

“I was scared before. Ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ new.”

Crowe’s eyes gleam. “And that is enough. Silly boy.” 

Sirius slowly eats his dumpling, looking between them, and perks up. Wow, that is delightful. Barty stews, pissy, across the table, jaw ticked to one side as Crowe stares him down and understanding ripples across his face. Barty slumps, waving his hand with a scoff but his ears are red. How cute, Sirius thinks. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen baby Lovegood so embarrassed or emotional for that matter. Hating your parents was a separate entity. 

“Do you have kids, Crowe?” Sirius asks, curious.

“I’d say unfortunately but I’d commit genocide for my kid. Well, might’ve done some bad shit already for her but meh. Imani’s a little shit.” Crowe snorts, whipping out his wallet with a flourish. “Found her out in Tanzania on a mission. Practically begged Denise to let me have her.”

There are several pictures of a pretty, dark skinned girl that appears to be about 10, grinning widely with bright golden eyes and tight, long curly hair. God, her skin is fucking amazing, Sirius thinks wildly. The eyes are peculiar, which must mean she’s.. Sirius inhales softly, gaze flickering up to Crowe, who gives him a subtle nod. They did have a somewhat indirect conversation where Sirius did drop that he already knew Crowe was a werewolf and Crowe had scoffed and said, Potter doesn’t keep shit from me. Plus, your phrasing about my magic was a bit too peculiar. Then he bopped Sirius upside the head and called him a mutt. 

Sirius turns back to the pictures. In some Imani is alone, in other’s she’s with Crowe and, Sirius assumes, Crowe’s wife, Denise, who seems especially coy and not at all like the short tempered woman Crowe made her out to be. There is even one with Hadrian, much more boyish than he appeared now, clearly fresh out of Hogwarts, grinning widely with Crowe’s daughter high on his shoulders, shrieking in delight. This is so fucking cute, Sirius thinks. Crowe sniffles wetly beside him, which is endearing. 

Sirius also finds himself watery eyed. “She’s incredibly cute.”

“Right!” Crowe shouts, startling them both, fists raised high in the air.

“I didn’t know you were so soft, Captain.” Barty sniffs. 

“Ugh, I know.” Crowe sighs heavily, slumping back in his seat. He grins, sharp. “Best part about that is no one would believe you if you said such things.”

“I wouldn’t if I wasn’t in this room.” Sirius mutters, grabbing another dumpling. “Your wife make these or did you? Shit’s bomb.”

Crowe puffs his chest, proud. “Tis I. Denise is always cooking and shit. Our house is immaculate. There’s so much cute shit. I gotta pull my weight or she’ll divorce me and never let me sniff a sweater again. I can’t have that. I’d lose my fucking mind. Potter would have to me down in the back like some lame horse. It’ll be like I have rabies.”

Barty laughs. “You are so fucking weird.”

“I’m in love.” Crowe deadpans. “No better than this mutt over here. Practically reeks of Potter.”

Sirius gapes, offended. “Hey. Hey. Keep my fucking secrets, sir.”

“Alright, alright.” Crowe grins. 

“Y’all’s sense of smell is too good. I gotta shower every fuckin’ day. Not gettin’ roasted on the fuckin’ clock.” Barty’s eyes bulge when he pops a dumpling into his mouth then he is effectively distracted by food. Sirius watches him, amused, but does pop the fuck out of his hand when he reaches for Sirius’ plate. Barty sulks.

Elias eventually joins them as does Dorcas with a few recruits, who manage exhausted greetings before collapsing in their seats. A man suddenly busts into the break room, wild eyed and covered in a strange, purple goop. His hair is stained and dirty, overalls hanging off his lanky frame as haphazard as the rest of him. Crowe immediately bristles, nostrils flaring and the room trembles. 

“You really couldn’t give me five fucking minutes. I. Am. Eating.” He growls, low and threatening. “Thorncroft, I swear to christ.”

“It’s a success!” Thorncroft responds wildly. “I just have to figure out how to counteract the-”

He faints, much like a very wet stone, sprawled out in the doorway like a very dead starfish. Sirius jumps, startled, a hand to his chest because what the fuck. The others seem unbothered beyond the recruits and, well, Sirius. They exchange quiet looks when none of the Brigade move to assist or see if Thorncroft is alive. 

“Give it a second.” Elias sniffs, throwing back his shot of espresso then refills it and downs it again.

“Didn’t I tell you to limit your caffeine intake?” Sirius admonishes. He was worse than fucking Hadrian.

Elias winces, laughing sheepishly, and replaces it with water when Sirius sends him a heated look.

A girl laughs nervously. She nods to where Thorncroft is sprawled out. “Is this a common occurrence?”

“Yes. He gets excited.” Dorcas answers curtly, shoving a demanding hand toward Sirius, who dutifully places a dumpling in her palm. Barty sends him a betrayed, scathing look until Sirius is pushing his plate towards him. Thorncroft hops suddenly to his feet, startling them once more, grinning maniacally. Crowe sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He unhinges his jaw, which is frightening, and simply slides the remainder of his lunch into his mouth before turning to Thorncroft with a withering look, chewing aggressively. His jaw snaps back into place. 

“You got five seconds.”

“She’s a jellyfish!” Thorncroft gestures dramatically to the goo dripping all over him. “Incredibly venomous and needs… well, prey to live, but! She is magnificent and sentient and can secrete acid. Naturally, since adding water to concentrated acid is known to cause burns and, perhaps, an explosion, she can handle your pesky water mice.”

Crowe’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins madly. “Oh?”  

“Yes!” Thorncroft claps happily.

“How fucking scary.” Sirius whispers, earning several nods of agreement. “Does she speak?”

Thorncroft beams, clearly delighted. “Yes. That’s why I’m covered in gunk.”

Aw, Sirius thinks, charmed. 

Crowe pushes himself up. “Alright, Thorncroft. Show me your carnivorous gelatin.”

“Yes!” Thorncroft shouts, fists raised in the air, and he’s storming back the way he came with Crowe lazily trailing after him. 

“On that note, I’m going to go run away for the rest of my lunch so I can rest before Crowe beats my ass again.” Sirius chirps happily, pushing to his feet. 

“You were doin’ well.” Barty scoffs.

“Before or after he broke my spine in two places and my pelvis? Oh, and my face?” Sirius asks, cheerful. This statement earns several startled looks. Elias chokes on his water. 

“Definitely both.” Barty nods, firmly. “Your recovery time is fuckin’ freaky.”

“You know me. Always bouncin’ back like one of those muggle slinky toys.” Sirius gives the group a merry wave before bouncing out the room. He vaguely wonders if he should see if he can bother James but ultimately decides to sneak out of the Academy to bother Marlene, who likely isn’t doing shit but being insufferable and possibly scary. Sirius sends a cheerful wave the familiar woman sitting at the receptionist desk as he passes, hugging Hadrian’s jacket tighter around him. 

He doesn’t look at all like a recruit for the Hit Wizards, or a potential apprentice for the Brigade, but Crowe was adamant about casual Fridays so he could wear his wife’s things in peace. The atrium is bustling with wixen shuffling towards doors and elevators. Sirius knows Marlene is on Basement Level 3, specifically dwelling in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes because she firmly believes there should eventually be a way to prevent accidental revelations of their world without nonconsensually altering minds of the unsuspected and that muggleborn children should be allowed to practice their magic at home as most halfbloods and, definitely, purebloods do. We are a ticking time bomb away from more obscurus, Marlene had snapped one day when she was draped across Sirius’ bed like a piece of art.

Sirius found her passion charming as he finds most things Marlene McKinnon does. He’s halfway to an elevator when he, or moreso Hugin, spots Regulus and Remus, talking heatedly with one another in a secluded corner. Regulus is in robes, immaculately pressed, and a heavily glamored appearance while Remus just seems shrunken and thin. Oh fucking well, Sirius thinks, flicking his fingers dismissively. He punches the down button, rocking back and forth lazily on his heels just as a hand presses into his lower back.

Sirius startles, fist once again slamming into a palm, and Hadrian’s familiar face grins down at him, heavily pleased. “Ooh, you almost got me.”

Sirius gasps, delighted, resisting the urge to throw his arms around him. Granted, they were, technically, just coworkers but Hadrian was a tenured member and, if Crowe had it his way, the Brigade’s future captain. Sirius will not have anyone tell him he slept his way into any fucking position, thank you very fucking much. He is scary in his own right and soon he will do crazy, biblical things with his birddog. So Sirius refrains even if he does bounce happily. “Omg, you’re back and you- wait, isn’t this mine?”

Sirius doesn’t even know where Hadrian Potter found this fucking scarf. Where did this man even go that he needs to be dressed so heavy? He’s in a furred cloak as well for fuck’s sake. There is snow melting on his shoulders. Sirius knows he can’t talk but London gets so cold sometimes.

“Same idea, yeah?” Hadrian replies smoothly, clocking Sirius’ outfit with a heavy look of appreciation. His gaze lingers on the necklace he gave Sirius.

Sirius flushes. “Well, you weren’t here to wear them and they look good on me.”

“They do.” Hadrian says lowly, stroking his fingers along Sirius’ spine.

Sirius sends him a look and receives an innocent blink in response. Sirius rolls his eyes, pleased, mouth twitching into a smile. “I see you weren’t a banana.”

“Nah. I was on my best behavior.” Hadrian scoffs. “You must be going to see Marlene.”

“Don’t tell Cas. She’ll chastise me and I’ve been bullied enough.” Sirius says sternly. “Will you tell me about your mission? Prongs is going to be up your ass.”

“God, he will be. Since she’s dead, I don’t see why I can’t tell you when we get home.” Hadrian hums just as the elevator door dings open. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yes.” Sirius beams.

Hadrian flicks his forehead softly, pulling away but his hand does linger on Sirius’ back before leaving him completely. Hadrian scoffs, low, just as he turns partially and Sirius angles his head to notice Remus looking at them, specifically Hadrian, nostrils flared, alone now. That grief is back in his face when his gaze shifts to Sirius, harrowing and desolate, and Sirius turns away from him, squeezing Hadrian’s forearm.

“I can handle it.” Sirius says quietly.

“What is a cur to me?” Hadrian gives him a speaking look. “Go or you will not receive the gifts I brought back for you.”

“For me?” Sirius gasps, delighted. He quickly schools his face much to Hadrian’s amusement. “Wait. You wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.” Hadrian grins, mean. “But I can always have you beg for them.”

Oh, wow! Sirius’ face goes hot. “Fucking bastard. Fine, I am leaving.”

“Are you?” Hadrian asks sweetly. “Here. Something to keep you company in the meantime.”

He drops an incredibly tiny, wrapped package into Sirius’ hand. It expands into the shape of a ringbox. Jesus, this fucking man. Hadrian winks like the shit he is. Sirius pushes away with an embarrassed scoff, neatly sliding into the elevator right before it closes. He catches Hadrian moving to stand directly in front of the elevator, arms crossed along his chest just when the doors begin to close fully once more. 

Sirius slumps, turning the box over between his fingers, heart thudding in his chest. Despite it being shaped like a ringbox, there is not ring inside instead it’s a white gold bracelet inside that glistens beautifully. The band is sleek and elegant, with a deep green emerald at its heart with the jaws of a serpent encased around it, complimented by a strange red diamond that flickers like a distant flame. There are dozens of small white diamonds surrounding these features.

Sirius huffs, eyes watering, and slides it on his wrist. The elevator door dings open fluidly and Sirius startles to see Marlene on the other side. She stares at him, wide eyed, mouth open and they point at each other in unison. Marlene steps into the elevator, tossing her hair. She shrieks in delight, bouncing up to him. “I was just on my way to- What the fuck is this?”

Marlene grabs Sirius’ wrist, pushing hard into his space, and studies the bracelet with reverence. “This would cost me a fortune. Let me guess. Your lover has returned from war?”

She bats her eyelashes at him. Sirius laughs, sliding an arm around her neck. “I can stop wailing at the sea now.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Marlene laughs. “I want to try the new coffee shop around the corner. They have a butterscotch, dark caramel sundae iced coffee.”

Sirius is immediately intrigued.

Surprisingly, unlike the last time he saw Remus Lupin, Sirius le Fay doesn’t think of him at all afterward.

Notes:

Wasn't going to drop a chapter today but... america's election has me feeling some type of way. stay safe y'all

As a funny reminder, werewolf's have super good hearing. Take that as you will.

Chapter 24: A Dog and His Boy

Summary:

A series of fun conversations.

Notes:

Tw, implied torture, implied death (murder), references to past relationships, implied pegging (take this as you will)

- a human, puppy pile with a horse
- Sirius & Hugin le Fay vs Hadrian Potter
- James' prey drive (is... is that what you call it? When you are the.. prey?)
- a Sirius talk
- A sprinkle of Jily being disgusting
- Sirius "I can cook" vs Euphemia & Hadrian Potter "What?!"
- Hades' subtle way of adopting his little le Fays friends
- Severus Snape being a messy bitch

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius stirs awake as a body presses into his side. He blearily cracks one eye open, feeling Gatsby grunt lowly in greeting on his left. A hand slides across his back then Hadrian is pushing his face into Sirius’ neck with a quiet sigh. Sirius manages to shift and get his arm out from underneath his pillow, wrapping it around Hadrian’s neck and feels him slump, tucked partially beneath him. Sirius rolls onto his side, dragging Hadrain closer, feeling the last remaining tension leave his body as he wraps his arms around Sirius’ waist.

“‘m kay?” Sirius asks quietly.

Hadrian nods, voice soft. “Missed you.”

Sirius’ heart skips a beat, settling his head on top of Hadrian’s. Eventually, Hadrian drifts off, tensing up once more like he’s preparing to respond if he needs to. That won’t do, Sirius thinks drowsily. Hugin whirrs inside him, stretching out to grasp at Hadrian and Hadrian sags completely, breath going long and even. Thank you, Sirius thinks, earning a coo in response. He presses a soft kiss to the top of Hadrian’s head, shuffling closer. Hadrian had been quiet once more when he returned home but still dutifully informed them about the witch he ended up hunting down, how his directive shifted midway through his interrogation to execution.

Hadrian didn’t say anymore after that and James and Sirius became a unified front on getting it off his mind completely. 

Sirius often does wonder about Big Potter’s general psyche despite how unbothered he seems about everything. Sirius doesn’t think anyone’s kill count on the Brigade was as high as his aside from Crowe and even if these wixen are bad people who do terrible, awful things, it was still a life. He also started so young and then there were the people he handled when James was kidnapped. Sirius thought of Roshan, of that little girl that was with him in his memories. Would she eventually have to come after Sirius to kill him? So young too, Sirius thinks tiredly. Hadrian shifts in sleep, dragging Sirius closer, and Gatsby moves once again in turn, squeezing Sirius between them their warm bodies as he curls his massive head around theirs. He finds himself drifting off, incredibly warm and cozy. 

When he wakes, Hadrian is, surprisingly, still asleep, face buried in Sirius’ collarbone, arms holding him close. His expression is relaxed, serene almost, breathing so fucking silent that Sirius wouldn’t know he was asleep at all but dead rather, if he didn’t feel each exhale on his skin. Sirius is just glad Hadrian came here instead of working his way through another batch of various recipes he wanted to try. Sirius carefully extracts himself, earning a low noise of complaint that he almost laughs at. He kisses Hadrian’s jaw, urging him back to sleep when an eye begins to crack open. 

Sirius doesn’t leave until he feels Hadrian relax once more, watching his slack expression for a long, quiet moment. He readies himself for a run, brushing his teeth as he watches Hugin decide what to do with his hair. Hugin settles on two plaits and wow, his braiding has simply become so pretty! Sirius shrugs into one of Hadrian’s hoodies, flipping his hair out of the collar and waves Gatsby off when he moves to join him. 

“You both need to sleep.” Sirius admonishes quietly. “I’ll be fine. Jay is coming.”

Gatsby settles with a grumble, shoving his face into Hadrian’s chest, who curls around him. 

“Good. Don’t let him up until, at least, 6am.” Sirius gives him a firm nod.

Gatsby grunts, ears flicking. 

James is already in the entry hall, stretching widely, and perks up when he notices Sirius. His face is tired, worried, and for all James Potter’s pride in what his brother does, the concern is there. His gaze flickers to the imperial staircase as if waiting for Hadrian to just materialize as he so often does.

“Gatsby is on smothering duty.” Sirius salutes.

“Good horse.” James nods firmly. “I’m trying to give space but it's fucking hard, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Sirius agrees, moving into a stretch. “He seems, I don’t know, better? Hugin knocked him out.”

“Good bird.” James nods once more, studying Sirius’ expression quietly. His face softens, hazel eyes glimmering with warmth. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Sirius responds easily. Why wouldn’t he be?

“It's okay if you’re not, Pads.”

Sirius looks at him, his gentle reassurance, and turns away, absently tugging at one of his braids. “I know. Well, I know that now. I’ll be fine. I’m okay right now.”

“Okay is good.” James says encouragingly, taking Sirius under his arm. Sirius grasps his wrists, leaning into him, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have James in his life anymore, if he never did. These are silly thoughts because Sirius did have him, his family. What ifs didn’t change reality. Sirius follows James outside, watching in quiet awe as the darkness lights up around them instantly with gentle lanterns that appear out of thin air.

The woods stretch before them, lit up with tiny whimsical lights. Sirius had laughed when Alaric told him the woods were his until he realized his goblin was being deadass. He hasn’t had a chance to explore it fully yet because… well, there was a lot but Sirius could make out the silhouette of another house hidden amongst the trees, much more modest in size. James has not been running recently and it shows in how Sirius slows down numerous time out of pity and so he can be a little shit. James just glares weakly at him, struggling to keep up.

“Can I ask you something?” Sirius asks, shaking out his legs.

James gives a him wheeze, mustering a thumbs up. 

“Are you, like, actually ok with me dating your brother?” 

“Fuck, Pads. Don’t be dumb this early. My lungs are about to split with one coming out of my throat and the other coming out of my ass.” James whines, bracing himself against a tree. He hugs it tightly as if it’ll get up and run away from him. 

“We have to work on your stamina.” Sirius huffs, hands on his hips. “Lily isn’t riding your ass enough.”

James’ face goes scarlet. He laughs nervously.

Sirius gapes. “No fucking way!”

“I can’t help it. She’s so strong and beautiful. I’m just a deer.” James sniffles. “I’m trying to convince her to become an animagus because I need to know. There is 0 doe behavior in this woman beyond her patronus.”

“I’m learning so many new things.” Sirius says, awed. He blinks. “Does Hades have one?”

James hums thoughtfully. “He does. Was younger than us when he became one.”

Sirius gasps, delighted. “I have to have him show me. I only recently saw his patronus. I have no idea what kind of deer that is.” 

It was certainly surprising to see a swirl of silver rush up to Crowe then take on the shape of a small, stocky deer with large ears and strange antlers that split from above its eyes. Its face had been ribbed with scent glands that flexes beneath its eyes. Sirius had never seen such a thing before and then Hadrian’s voice was revealed, letting Crowe know he was going on a bug hunt. Sirius had no idea what the fuck that meant but he had a general understanding especially when Moody showed up at the Academy after looking fiendish as fuck. 

“A muntjac.” James says cheerfully. He pushes himself off the tree. “Ok, ok. I am here. Ooh ah!”

“Oh, Prongs.” Sirius laughs. 

James sends him a wild grin before taking off down the wooden trail. Sirius gives him a ten second headstart then bounces after him. James shrieks, like the prey animal he is, hurrying ahead. Oh, maybe this is the encouragement he needs, Sirius thinks. He chases James through the woods, mentally clocking times. The sun is starting to rise when Sirius finally, mercifully, pins James to the ground. He groans beneath him, glasses skewed. Sirius grins down at him, earning a weak glare. 

“Much better, deer.” Sirius chirps happily. “I could’ve only killed you three times this time.”

James appears relieved. “Last time was six. I should’ve been a cat. My fragrant dismissal of life is appalling.”

Sirius blinks. “What?”

James blinks back. “What?”

“Why are you being so serious? I’m Sirius.” Sirius laughs, pushing himself to his feet. He offers James a hand, who simply drags him back down. Sirius lands on his chest with an oof, James sprawled beneath him like a starfish. Sirius settles on him, amused.

“I don’t know how you run this much every day.” James sighs tiredly. 

“It's the panic.” Sirius nods. 

“Funny that you think you don’t have anxiety.”

Sirius makes an affronted noise. “Because I don’t. I’m not my grandfather. Oh, I need to write him. I think Sev is coming by this week. He’s going to be pissy. You’ve been warned.”

James groans. “What did you do now?”

“I am so innocent! All I said was that he had a room here!” Sirius scoffs, offended. “Might have mentioned the potions dungeon. Not like he has anywhere else to go for the holidays so alas, he is stuck with me. Oh, I added a third for Monty. He does not know yet so you will hush or I will cry.”

James pales. He nods very seriously. “I solemnly swear.”

Sirius’ stomach grumbles. James’ gaze turns critical and he is up with Sirius slung over his shoulder in a matter of seconds. Sirius blinks, thrown, then laughs, propping himself on his elbows. 

“Hads seems more settled with you.” James tells him, leaves crunching audibly beneath him. “He’s only brought one person home to our parents. It ended fucking terribly. She was nice until she wasn’t. I don’t think anyone should have to be less of who they are because of who they’re dating. That’s not compromise. It’s manipulation. You seem more happy with him. You’re more yourself now. That’s all I want for either of you. Anything less is just a crock of bullshit. So no, I don’t care that you’re dating.”

Sirius flushes, embarrassed. “It could end badly.”

“Nah.” James chuckles. “Firm reminder that I am also Rudrapatha. I personally think you’d look great covered in lilies. Oh, dude, when are you bringing your maa home?”

“Oof, next weekend?” Sirius strokes his chin. “Lucan is going with me to see her and I think Amycus may be joining us but he seemed super scared so I didn’t press.”

“Your maa is scary from what you’ve told me. Shit, from what I’ve read.” James laughs. “I saw your fiendfyre the other day when Carrow dropped in. Only you.”

“What can I say? My bird enjoys being as dramatic as I am.” Sirius says happily, bouncing on his heels when James finally lets him down. He beams up at him. “I want to figure out if it can be modified then boom, lightning with fire.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up. He hums, crossing his arms, and shifts his weight from one side to the other. “Lightning is known to create fires by evaporating the moisture content of vegetation and trees, I guess. You could start with that and maybe tie the fiendfyre into it?”

“But I want them at once.” Sirius responds, mimicking his pose.

James hums again. “You need intense concentration for fiendfyre so you can’t really afford to be pissy. Oh, but you’ve got Hugin! Trust the bird to handle it.”

Sirius blinks. “That seems lazy. He, well, we work so hard already.”

A feathered hand bursts out of the side of Sirius’ neck and flicks him in the forehead. Sirius gasps, offended, and James nods, unsympathetic. 

“As I was fucking saying.” James sniffs. 

“You’re both a bunch of bullies.” Sirius sulks, opening his arms when he feels Hugin rooting around. His chest is suddenly full of a strange form that must be canine but nearly skeletal with many eyes. Aww, puppy, Sirius thinks, cradling Hugin close. James rubs Hugin’s boned head, earning a hard tail wag. He trails behind Sirius, who meanders back towards the house, Hugin in his arms. Hugin shifts into the familiar form of a silver raven when Lily suddenly appears in the doorway, hands on her hips. 

“And what time is this?” 

“Jay is slow.” Sirius tells her, earning an amused look. 

“I am.” James sulks. “But I only died three times.”

Lily’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that’s an improvement. You should be proud of yourself. Good morning, Hugin.”

Hugin kaws in greeting, burrowing his puffy body into the crook of Sirius’ neck. Lily coos, wrapping James in her arms when he wanders closer. Its a bit comical considering Lily is short as fuck but it quickly becomes sickening as they blink lazily at each other, heart eyed. Sirius must resist to gag because he’d never hear the end of it and he could only imagine the amount of teasing that would follow. He doesn’t have the strength to deal with such things. 

“Your brother has not appeared yet. Did something happen?” Lily asks, looking from James to Sirius.

“We knocked him out.” Sirius responds, gesturing to himself and Hugin. “Granted, minor regrets because he’s been eying shakshuka recently. However, I can also make it myself so meh. I’ve just gotten use to Hades feeding me.”

Which is great and delicious and wonderful. Hadrian even makes him a fruit bowl when he watches him cook!

Lily blinks. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

Sirius blinks. “I had no choice or I’d just die. Not like I have a house elf. Can’t eat most shit in general and Re-Lupin couldn’t fucking cook. He burned oatmeal. Who burns oatmeal?” 

James grimaces. “Yeah, Mo-Lupin’s a lousy cook. He forgot he was boiling water and the pan melted.”

Lily seems immediately regretful for inadvertently bringing Remus up but Sirius waves her off. He doesn’t care. They’ve both made their beds to rot in. “Plus, now, I make a bitchin’ tres leches.”

James gasps. “You do. Lils, it’s so fucking moist. He lets me lick the bowl.”

“I do.” Sirius nods solemnly. 

“Please don’t say moist again.” Lily laughs, relieved. “That’s my favorite kind of cake. You’ll have to let me try.”

Sirius and James share a look then look back at her. “Cake, also, for breakfast? I’ll make shakshuka. Oh, I’ll have to use a different milk since Hades can’t have dairy.”

Lily beams. 

“Fuck yes!” James hisses, eyes glistening with tears. 

“It’s Mipsy’s day so you both get to tell her to fuck off as payment.” Sirius says pleasantly, hurrying inside before his words can register. A series of shouts follow him, which is delightful and hilarious. Sirius lazily flicks his hand and the entryway dissolves around him and he’s back in his bedroom, Gatsby snoring deeply on an asleep Hadrian’s chest. So cute, Sirius thinks, waving a greeting to Umbra, who stretches his languidly on the windowsill. Sirius opens the window for him before heading into his ensuite. He takes a quick shower but does make sure to give Hugin a soapy beard that has his magic puffing up in delight. 

Hadrian is still asleep when he emerges once more so Sirius checks to make sure he’s breathing, gives Gatsby a little kiss on his head and pops back out of his room. Mipsy sulks quietly in the kitchen, her large eyes watery and pitiful. She is clearly taking the news terribly. Sirius does not like such an image and sweeps the little elf into his arms, squeezing her. 

“Hey, hey. None of that. You can help me, Mip.”

“Young Sirius so kind to Mipsy.” She sniffles. 

Sirius is a bit obsessed with their new kitchen. It was massive, for one, with numerous ovens for whatever reason and a large island, which was great for Sirius’ rapidly shifting attention span. Mipsy produces an incredibly large stone pot as Sirius works his way through dicing a massive array of peppers and onions. Hugin keeps eating various strays but Sirius can’t find it in him to chastise his bird especially with how quickly Hugin is peeling tomatoes with the several hands surging out of him. 

Mipsy heavily seasons their offering in the pan while Sirius and Hugin have a minute stare down over a plate of mangoes she has cut up for Sirius. He does not want to share but there are puppy eyes on his raven which is cheating and terrible.  

“Fine.” Sirius scoffs, setting his fork down. “Its all going to the same place anyway.” 

Hugin makes a happy noise. Sirius leaves his bird to it, assisting Mipsy with the eggs just as James bounces into the kitchen. Hugin hisses at him when he reaches for a mango and James sulks, draping himself across the island. He perks up when Hugin begrudgingly gives him one piece of mango. It was amusing to see his own mannerisms in his bird but well, they were one. 

His best friend is looking a bit flushed so Sirius can only imagine what he got up to in the last hour especially when Lily appears, also flushed and a bit harried. Sirius will not comment, mainly because he is distracted by a freshly showered Hadrian drowsily entering the kitchen. Sirius coos, earning a withered, knowing look. He opens his arm and Hadrian moves towards him with a tired eyeroll. 

“Ah, you smell like me.” Sirius says happily, sniffing, as he slides an arm around Hadrian’s waist. His face goes hot. That was supposed to be an inside thought. Hugin kaws in greeting, earning a nod, bustling around Mipsy, who watches him fiendishly mix batter in a bowl. 

“My intention.” Hadrian hums, tucking his chin on Sirius’ head, and wraps an arm around him. “Your bat is here.”

Sirius blinks. “What-”

“Sirius le Fay.” Severus Snape’s voice startles the shit out of him. Sirius spins around under Hadrian’s arm to see Snape fuming quietly in the kitchen archway. 

“Sev!” Lily greets happily. “Good morning.”

Snape’s eyebrow twitches. “Good morning, Lily. I have qualms.”

James gasps quietly. “So soon?”

Snape sends him a withering look then sneers at Sirius, who grins. “You-”

“If you’re going to bitch, you can do it after you eat.” Sirius says sternly. “I had foreseen this so I made extra.”

Snape appears pleased. James blinks, “You did? You said he was going to show up this week?”

“Well, technically it is now Sunday. I had the letter arrive late last night because I knew Sev is too polite to pop up during sleeping hours so I would be safe. He has anxiety.”

“I do not.” Snape hisses.

Lily shoots him a look, eyebrow raised, and Snape blushes furiously. 

“I did send you a heavy supply of porcupine quills and hellebore.” Hadrian supplies dryly and, if possible, Snape’s face becomes as red as Lily’s hair. 

“Potter Sr-”

“Hadrian, as I have told you. Potter Sr is my father.” 

“I am!” Monty says happily, sweeping into the kitchen. He perks up when noticing Snape. “Ah, Mr. Snape, welcome. Please join us for breakfast.”

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you.” Sirius says, cheerful. 

Snape grumbles, lifting his chin. “What have you made?”

“Shakshuka.” Sirius replies. “It seems that Hugin is now in charge of making the tres leches. So weird that he just knows but I guess we are one mind.”

Hugin kaks, smacking the bowl towards James after pouring the batter into a baking pan. James swoons.

“Tres leches? Shakshuka? For breakfast?” Monty sits beside James, expression reverent. “Yes.”

“Right.” James whimpers after tasting the batter. 

“You should experience his sikandari raan.” Snape sniffs, smug and a fucking shit. “It is phenomenal.”

Hadrian makes a heated, curious noise, peering down at Sirius. “What?”

“What indeed.” Euphemia agrees severely, entering the kitchen. “How dare you not share such feats with us, Sirius Potter le Fay.”

“What the fuck, Pads?” James hisses, incensed. 

Sirius pales. “I’m still practicing! I can’t get the pairing right. I don’t know what’s better for pulao. Although I do really like orange- I am shutting up now.”

Hadrian makes a wounded sound, evidently thrown. “What? You didn’t share?”

James gapes. “What the actual fuck, Sirius? I need this immediately.”

“Uhm.” Jesus, Sirius hates this. It was pure accident but Remus wanted something different one night and Sirius missed James, so what if he poured over numerous recipes before deciding on one. The hard gaze of every Potter, and a pitying Monty, causes Sirius to break out into a cold sweat. Oh geeze, Sirius thinks, nervously laughing as he shrinks away. Lily has her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter while Snape just sends him a serene smile. Ah, this is revenge, Sirius thinks, pouting. 

“I can make it… tonight?”

“Is that a question?” Effie’s eyes narrow dangerously.

Oh, geeze, Sirius nearly whines. He holds up his hands, conceding. “Fine. Fine. You’re a fucking bastard, Severus.”

“Surely not. I am aware of my father as are you, Siri.” Snape says pleasantly. 

Sirius flicks him off. 

Notes:

idk I feel like we needed another fun chapter with everything going on.

also... I have seen HC where people think Sirius can't cook or is bad at it and respectfully disagree. He didn't have a Kreacher and I can't see him bothering a Potter elf to just make him food :salute:

if you didn't catch the joke about the porcupine quills and hellebore, its used to make the draught of peace which can be used for anxiety and i believe, agitation. Siri is known to cause Severus Snape both of these things

edit: achilles come down by gang of youths is such a sirius/ severus song that it makes me fucking weak

Chapter 25: As It Was

Summary:

Hadrian joins his little le Fay and grandfather on a trip to Gringotts.

Notes:

Tws, implied sexual content, referenced death, Isolde's murdery temper, referenced child abuse, referenced scars, Sirius being a little shit

- Hadrian dreadfully enamored with a stupid dog
- Gatsby & Hadrian vs Sirius
- Hades & Cas, unified besties, unified thots
- Lucan, excited to be here, still needs drugs to be here
- Siri's strange relationship with his goblin(s)
- le Fay lore-ish drop
- Hadrian's eyebrow gets a full workout today

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hadrian watches Sirius sleep more than he has watched anyone else, how his face will tighten on the cusp of a nightmare before it’s swept away with a flutter of magic, the little laugh that happens every so often that’s barely a breath, the whistling. He knows Sirius’ body wakes before his brain does, how absent that stare is until it finally comes into focus.

Today isn’t much different. Hadrian often wakes before Sirius does unless Hugin is being a messy bitch but he doesn’t mind, not really. Sirius barely stirs as he comes into consciousness, those strange eyes flickering empitily along his bedroom before landing on Hadrian’s face and clears with this soft little look. Oh, Hadrian thinks, heart squeezing in his chest. He wonders if he’s ever been this pleased, but there were just so many layers to Sirius le Fay. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Sirius asks drowsily, propping himself up on his elbow and roughly rubs his eyes. Gatsby nudges him and he startles with a tiny laugh, wrapping an arm around his thestral’s boney neck. “Hi, you big goose. Did he sleep, Bees? Did you?”  

Gatsby grunts. Sirius coos.  

“I did.” Hadrian agrees, too well in fact. How troubling. He  presses a soft kiss to Sirius’ temple, running his fingers along the sliver of skin from where his shirt has risen up. “Do you still want me to tag along?”

Sirius beams. “Yes. Lucan said he’s taking three calming droughts, whatever the fuck that means, but he will be there. Do you need a shot? I have found the wine cellar. There’s like… so much shit down there.” 

“Nah. Not the most frightening woman I’ve met.” Hadrian sniffs, though he was strangely nervous despite having many terrifying aunts and, god, Dorea. He never imagined meeting Yusura Morvain or finding out that name was a lie or dating her son. How surprising, like every instance of Sirius’ life since he came into theirs. Would hate to be bored, Hadrian thinks. Who could compare to this?

Sirius sends him a look, smug, and it is terrible. Hadrian glares at him and Sirius snickers, grunting when Gatsby shoves his face into his chest, bodily shoving him over into Hadrian’s chest. Sirius makes a strange canine grumble, squeezed between them now. 

“Bees.” Sirius admonishes.  

Gatsby gives him an innocent look and does not move. Hadrian snorts in amusement, hooking an arm around Sirius’ waist and sags back into bed. Sirius looks between them, offended and glaring, and it is simply the cutest expression.  

“I need to shower.” Sirius pouts.  

“You showered last night.” Hadrian hums, tucking his chin on Sirius’ head. 

“Before or after you pinned me to the floor.” Sirius grumbles, stroking Gatsby’s long face when he demandingly pushes into Sirius’ hands. 

Ah, he did do that. It was hardly his fault. Sirius was just so responsive and sweet that it was becoming increasingly hard to not answer to his whims, especially when he was being coy. Honestly, Hadrian is finding that he was no worse than his brother with Evans. He should send Lupin a laced bouquet for being such a fucking idiot. Two birds one stone, a thank you and a sentencing. Hadrian noses at Sirius’ ear, reveling in the little shiver that follows and presses his face into his neck. 

“Both times, I believe, considering I joined you the second time.” 

Sirius scoffs, cheeks pink. “I still need to get up. I don’t want us to be late.”

“We have two hours. Perhaps you need a draught of peace.” Hadrian suggests, inhaling deeply even as Sirius makes a sharp noise of offense. He always smells so good. Smells like mine, Hadrian thinks, grasping Sirius’ chin between his fingers and guides him into a kiss. Sirius glares weakly but still, he melts, eyes fluttering closed. 

“You just want to get laid.” Sirius sniffs, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

Hadrian laughs, charmed. “I don’t need that shit.”  

“Oh?” Sirius presses, managing to wiggle out between them. He grins down at Hadrian. “Now that I don’t believe at all. Cas said you were a little hoe.” 

Hadrian feels his eyebrow twitch. He loves Dorcas, he does, but she could be such a messy bitch sometimes. Fucking hypocrite, Hadrian thinks. Marlene made an honest woman out of Dorcas Meadowes and frankly, Hadrian is glad he doesn’t have to deck the numerous questionable women Cas entertained anymore. He never understood her taste since she was soft as fuck despite her profession. Cassie cries over everything, which was endearing if not alarming. Hadrian will never forget when he acknowledged they were, in fact, besties or whatever the fuck these kids call it and she fucking sobbed. 

“Cas has slept with more people than me.” Hadrian deadpans. “If anyone is a fucking hoe, it’s her. I can’t be blamed for her positive influence on my life.” 

Sirius laughs and it’s such a pretty sound. “Positive influence? You’re so fucking weird.” 

“We don’t slut shame in this house.” Hadrian flicks his forehead. 

“I’m not. Let the freak flag soar? Fly? Fly. Let the freak flag fly.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. He pauses then gives Hadrian a furious look, jabbing a finger into his chest. Hadrian’s stomach twists in delight. “Your hoe phase is over in case you didn’t fucking know.”

“You’re so dumb and incredibly pretty.” Hadrian responds, smitten.

Sirius’ left eye twitches, confusion rippling across his face. “You…” 

“Me?” Hadrian tilts his head.  

“Stupid.” Sirius sniffs, pushing off him with a furious blush. “Hate it here. Stupid man. Stupid, handsome fucking face with these dumb words.”

Hadrian watches Sirius stagger out of bed to march furiously into his walk in closet. Hadrian resists the urge to laugh, which is incredibly hard given how much muttering comes from the closet. He pushes himself upright, giving Gatsby a light scratch behind the ears before dragging himself out of bed. It takes effort not to get back into it. These pillows were a menace. This man was a menace. Hadrian can’t even remember the last time he slept in his own bed.

How dreadful, he thinks, cocking an eyebrow when Sirius appears once more, shoving a box into Hadrian’s chest. His cheeks are so red that it twists Hadrian up to severe degrees. Sirius sniffs, then flips his hair, disappearing back into his closet. Hadrian peers curiously at the box in his hands and opens it  slowly. Cute, he thinks, heart skipping a beat. Oh, that will not do. Hadrian will have to retaliate.

There is a souvenir jacket inside, deep maroon with sleeves made of black silk that shimmers with a subtle violet undertone. The stark white body of a three tailed fox wraps around the body of a large, coiling shadow serpent, teeth locked in along scales. A swirling mist surrounds them both, shadowy tendrils blending into the jacket’s dark background. Hadrian inhales slowly. Did James tell him? He’s distracted by Sirius bouncing back out of his closet as Hugin works his hair into a high ponytail that, frankly, shortcircuits Hadrian’s mind completely. 

“There’s more. I have shit to make up for, duh.” Sirius lifts his chin, haircolor shifting from that spun starlight to a dark brown. He inspects the hair dipping past his shoulder and changes it again to a familiar shade of blackened silver. “Prongs said you liked snakes, which of fucking course you do, and foxes. Do you eat bunnies too, Hades?”

“I love rabbit. Have you met a fox?” Hadrian asks, amused. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Like once. When I was… I don’t know.. I was super small. They’re cute. What was it called… hm, a gumiho? So pretty. I found her clever. She lived in tati’s woods. Jay said there’s fox spirits in buddhism but your mom’s family practices hinduism, yes?”

“Ehh, her nani did but it’s not really our thing. Maa still prays. Foxes are associated with evil in most cultures, same with snakes. Baba doesn’t follow his parent’s religion, says its a bunch of bullshit. They see snakes as evil.”

“Evil?” Sirius asks, blinking. He tilts his head, much like a dog. “I don’t know anything about muggle religion even though, I guess, I slander the jesus. Jesus.” He waves a hand. “Seems dumb to hate certain species because you got conned or whatever. Sounds like people need to BB. GB? GG! Get good!”

Hadrian thinks he may marry this man. He deadpans, “Go finished getting ready.” 

Sirius salutes. It’s sloppy and terrible yet Hadrian is enamored. He leaves before he can do something foolish. Hadrian is ready before Sirius, which isn’t very surprising, but he does enjoy watching him stride down the staircase like the little lord he so often appears to be before that bored, haughty expression morphs into delight when he notices Hadrian in his jacket. Cute, Hadrian thinks, offering his arm. Sirius takes it, pleased, and they are gone in a burst of shadows. 

“Oh. I’ve gotten used to it.” Sirius chirps happily, peering around the streets of Diagon Alley. There is another pop and Lucan appears, expression dour, perhaps panicked, until he notices them. His shoulders slump subtly. Oof, maybe needed another draught of peace, Hadrian thinks, amused.

“Pépé!” Sirius greets, dipping low at the waist like the little shit he is. 

Lucan appears suffering if not pleased. “Sirius. Master Harbinger.”

“Lord Carrow, please stop this nonsense.” Hadrian replies dryly.

“Ah but the Prophet loves their youngest prodigy HIT Wizard. I’m sure this outing will make the front page as it did before.” Lucan responds, cheerful. 

Hadrian feels his eyebrow twitch. The audacity. If he could deck the reporter who started this nonsense, he would. Then he’d box that mongrel of a man over the head with a brick. Fucking higher ups, he thinks, sullen. Tennison was not fucking better, neither was Alastor, especially now that they had James. Hadrian mourns the days he lived in Roderick’s shadow. He didn’t understand the hype with this nickname shit. 

The Mad Dog, Roderick Crowe. God’s Arm, Elias Warrington. Jupiter’s Titan, Dorcas Meadowes. The Flock, Silas Vance and Benjamin Thorncroft. The Harbinger, Hadrian Potter. How Lovegood managed to avoid this bullshit amazes Hadrian every day but Barty was always good at disappearing. Hadrian doesn’t think the First Division, Tyrions, got this much shit or attention. 

“Your grandson, also, has a nickname.” Hadrian tells him.

Sirius gapes. “No, I fucking-”

“What is it?” Lucan asks curiously.

“Little Wraith since he isn’t an official member yet.” Hadrian supplies. This would likely happen sooner than Sirius would think. Roderick has been insufferable since he delivered Sirius’ acceptance letter early summer. Then there was the house change from Black to le Fay. Hadrian was sure his boss was going to have an aneurysm based on the excited howler Hadrian had received on vacation. Roderick was practically howling in delight with Denise sending her sympathies in the background.

Sirius hides his face in his hand, cheeks red. “God, I’m going to kick Sila’s ass.” 

Lucan appears charmed. “Oh, how fitting.”

“Please don’t encourage this.” Sirius huffs. “I am stressed enough.”

“He’s fine.” Hadrian says curtly when Lucan looks troubled. “Don’t stress your grandfather.”

Sirius flicks his fingers, pouting, then he grins. “Maman is going to chastise you regardless.”

The grave expression Lucan wears is like a man to the gallows. Hadrian would love know what Isolde le Fay must have been like alive to garner such a reaction but he supposes her son is a little shit so she must not be too far behind if not more… dark. Much like Sirius’ father. Hadrian doesn’t understand how either of them made such a charming child even if he did resemble them heavily when he was particularly pissed and messy.  

Oh well, Hadrian thinks, listening to Sirius chatter animatedly with his severe goblin, who had met them in the lobby of Gringotts once they headed inside. He notices this interaction gathers many curious gazes from other wixen visiting Gringotts. There could be many reasons for this, like the massive assortment of pastries Sirius procures for his account manager and, notably, the teller as well or how Sirius bowed when he greeted them both. Cute, Hadrian thinks, amused. Just a thread scandalous based on the shocked looks this receives. A lord bowing to a goblin. The pearls must be clutched.

There are so many people in this damn building but there doesn’t appear to be any intent beyond monetary transactions. Hadrian relaxes, only to tense back up when a shift in magic earns his attention. Black, he acknowledges, peering over his shoulder to see Regulus Black entering Gringotts. No cur this time, Hadrian thinks derisively. Black’s glamor is perfect but not nearly as seamless as the one Sirius wears on his neck, on his back. He had been so embarrassed, ashamed, when Hadrian finally saw them, his scars; how ruined the skin looked, like it hurt unbearably, and there was so, so much of it. Walburga Black wasting in her bed was a kindness in Hadrian’s opinion.

Hadrian turns away dismissive, giving Sirius’ arm a soft squeeze as Lucan chuckles at whatever was said. Sirius appears embarrassed, quickly apologetic, and Hadrian flicks him on the forehead. It has been a trying experience convincing Sirius that Hadrian truly does not give a shit when he’s being insufferable or himself in general. 

Sirius laughs, relief evident. “Alaric is going to take us to the vault. In the arms we keep, Master Killsonger.”

“As the babe wails, Lord le Fay.” The teller sneers at him with dangerous approval. Sirius beams. Alaric chitters unnervingly, gesturing to a large door that materializes to their left. Hadrian can tell the exact moment Regulus Black notices Sirius, when Sirius notices him as well but Sirius doesn’t look back, eyes tightening in the corners before a forced calm sweeps over his features and he rubs his chest where Hadrian can see the murderous eyes of Hugin as he pushes his way out. Lucan appears to have noticed as well as they trail after Alaric. 

Sirius appears to be having a conversation with his bird, judging how those eyes settle back on his face in unison. He chuckles softly, waving a dismissive hand, expression so fond and Hugin dissolves back inside him. Hadrian squeezes his arm, reassuring, and Sirius leans into him. Lucan’s approval is great, even if he does send a shrewd look to Black before the door closes behind them. None of them comment on the exchange or its cause and slowly Sirius is back to talking rapidly. He has so many interests, questions, like someone who wasn’t able to ask such things before. Alaric answers dutifully, obviously charmed by his little lord.

Hadrian has never been so deep inside Gringotts but he is hardly surprised when he notices the dragon before they pass. Not even the Peverell vaults or Death’s, for that matter, were this deep. There is a large raven that acts as the vault’s keeper with a familiar looking box trapped between its talons. Hadrian did believe Sirius when he said the people after him were indirect descendants of le Fay and the roots clearly ran deep. How curious, he thinks, charmed when Sirius demands another riddle because he’s gotten good at them. The raven concedes easily, if perhaps startled, before rippling open when Sirius also gets that riddle correct.

“I need to do trivia nights with Marlene. We’d be unstoppable.” Sirius states happily.

Hadrian doesn’t think trivia nights involve riddles but he barely knows shit about muggles and why they do things the way they do so who was he to say don’t bother. There’s so much damn gold in here, Hadrian thinks, awed. Lucan seems equally impressed then makes a startling expression when Alaric sighs happily before excusing himself. 

In the direct center of the vault, amongst gold and massive stacks of gilded chests and trinkets, is Isolde le Fay. Hadrian doesn’t understand why he thought she’d be dressed like a typical lady of an imperial house when her son was just as shameless. Not that this affected any of Hadrian’s emotions towards Sirius since he didn’t care in general and enjoyed having something to look at. 

Sirius unlinks their arms and Hadrian immediately mourns the loss, watching him stride towards his mother’s portrait. The frame glows hot with his blood when he runs his fingers along the twisted vines containing many sparrows. The vault trembles slightly with an unfurl of magic. Oh shit, Hadrian thinks, charmed. Isolde wakes gracefully, the brilliant smile that crosses her face is every inch of her son’s, and she beams up at him. She’s younger than Hadrian expected, visibly on the cusp of entering adult life. 

“Ah, today is the day!” Isolde sighs happily. “Please do not mind the berating papa is about to receive.”

Sirius says something in French that has Lucan’s cheeks hot and Isolde cackling. She pushes herself from her seat, mouth open to begin whatever tirade when she notices Hadrian. Alarmed shock ripples across her face. She curtsies deeply and greets, “Heir Death.”

Lucan gasps, shocked, turning to Hadrian. 

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. He swears he can hear laughter inside his own mind. That fucking bastard. “Lady le Fay, whatever that idiot has told you is a lie.”

“This is Hadrian Potter, Death’s intended, maman.” Sirius introduces sweetly.

This bastard. Hadrian glares at him. “Stop this nonsense.” 

Sirius sends him a gleeful look that is both the worst and incredibly pretty. Isolde blinks owlishly, mouth a small ‘o’ as she curiously looks between them then she grins, seedy and terrible. Hadrian feels his eyebrow twitch once more.

“Ahh, so this is the older brother.” Isolde simpers. “My, what taste you have, Sirius le Fay.”

Sirius’ face goes scarlet. “Maman, we are not here about this.”

“Oh but we are, my little nova.” Isolde sighs, draping a hand across her forehead. “A Rudrapatha who is set to become Death’s little lord. Mm, what a match. Tell me, little Death, how fiendish is your servant to get his hands on you? Oh, but you are also courting a le Fay. Ah, yes, I know he must be frothing at the mouth.”

Lucan seems relieved to have the attention taken off him even though he is incredibly curious. 

Hadrian sighs deeply. “On record, I hate this conversation. I have not known peace. But…his insistence is growing on me.”

“What?” Sirius squawks. “I do have to fight a god?!”

“Oh, Siri.” Lucan laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Isolde sends her son an amused look. “I imagine not considering Lord Death is a long time friend of le Fay. Even when we were nothing, we had him. I have that book somewhere. How incredible. I hadn’t expected this at all.”

Isolde claps her hands and the vault shifts in turn, chests sliding out the way, shelves rumbling, and a heavy tome shoots out from a hidden space in the stoned flooring. Sirius catches it, awed. 

“He said as much.” Hadrian offers dryly. Privately, he was sick of Death’s shit. Insufferable being. Hadrian wasn’t after Sirius for whatever hidden agenda there might’ve been. He didn’t enjoy being bored, liked power, and preferred what lies beneath surface level. This had burned him before when he dated Kiara Yaxley but he was willing to go through the possibility once more if it meant he had Sirius for a moment in the long speck of life he had left. Oh, how depressing, Hadrian thinks. 

“You never told me that.” Sirius looks at him, curious. He doesn’t appear upset. 

“While you two discuss your differences, I will use this time to berate my father.” Isolde says cheerfully but her eyes glint with malice. 

“Oops.” Hadrian mutters, pitying. Lucan drags himself towards his increasingly irate daughter, who immediately starts badgering him in french. Sirius walks towards him, shrinking the tome between his hands, and pushes into Hadrian’s space with big, blinking eyes. 

“Explain yourself now or I will cry.”

Hadrian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t do that. It didn’t seem relevant. I don’t care what he wants.”

“Don’t want the favor of your future servant, Hades?” Sirius asks. 

“No.” Hadrian states evenly. “I was interested before you became a le Fay.”

Sirius blinks, startled. “What? You never said anything.”

Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him. “Your life was upended for the first time. There was the bullshit with your friends. Your uncle died. Your father died. You were in a relationship. Plus, I was busy with my own shit. I am also older than you. You didn’t need extra bullshit, Sirius.”

“And now?” Sirius presses and fuck, he is so pretty.

“As long as you’ll have me.” Hadrian says before his mind can catch up. Oh, how terrible, he thinks. Sirius’ face softens completely. He seems pleased, elated even. The sight makes Hadrian’s chest throb strangely.

“Good.” Sirius says simply. “Would hate to be bound to the lilies and comfrey. At that point, I’ll have to destroy your house for the audacity while I wait to be absorbed in some man eating garden.”

Cute, Hadrian thinks. “You know I’d be bound as well, correct?”

“Oh, yes, but still. I can’t take this shit lying down.” Sirius huffs. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“What reputation is that?” Hadrian asks, amused. 

Sirius blinks. “I have a scary bird. I feel I must also be scary so we can be a dream team of debauchery. Oh, Peter is dead.”

Hadrian blinks. What?

Sirius blinks again.

Hadrian frowns. “When the fuck did that happen?”

“Not too sure.” Sirius taps his chin then shrugs lazily. “Hugin wanted him to suffer longer but I guess he couldn’t hold on, that lazy bastard. His skull was dropped into my room though. Super pretty packaging but it wasn’t me.”

Understanding dawns on Hadrian. He sighs heavily, “Ah. I see. How meddlesome.”

Sirius tilts his head then gasps. “Oh. Oh! It's from daddy death!”

“Please stop this nonsense.” Hadrian responds, aggrieved. 

Sirius slides his arms around Hadrian’s waist, chin tucked on his collarbone as he grins up at him. Hadrian sighs again but wraps Sirius closer. This was not a budding relationship Hadrian was looking forward to even though he is pleased with the idea. 

“Sirius Altair le Fay. What is this I hear about you being attacked in Diagon fucking Alley!” Isolde sounds fairly murderous and the vault trembles dangerously.

Sirius pales, managing a weak laugh.

“Oops.” Hadrian grins at him. 

Notes:

Cool cool. Wanted a funsy chapter since the next one is fucking awful. Siri will be going on his first mission with Crowe, Elias, and Artemis. He's bait essentially. It will contain not great things. People will die. Children will be suffering but the ones introduced will be ok! Hadrian will be there to comfort his dog.

They are HIT Wizards so naturally they will experience not great things but no one we love will die.

A softer chapter will quickly follow and we will have an animagus reveal :elmo on fire emoji: and likely sex, sigh. And... a.. belly chain? Idk someone asked so I have to water my thirsty peeps.

Chapter 26: Spring

Summary:

Sirius goes on his first mission and meets his cousin.

Notes:

TWs, kidnapping, gross behavior, gore, body disfigurement, off screen child death, death, bodies, violence, discussions of torture, discussions of unforgivables, implied noncon (this isn't explicit but there is a sentence or a comment rather that may seem icky), nonconsensual touching, omg I almost forgot a muggle slur is used

this isn't a fun chapter but it is what it is

- Sirius "I am art" le Fay
- Hugin hitting that material gworl
- Elias Warrington & Barty Lovegood "a le Fay defense squad"
- Crowe's murdery temper
- Hugin's murdery temper
- Uhm, everyone's murdery temper?
- Sirius loves babies and babies love him
- Sirius Teenaged Mother ™
- DMLE political bullshit

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Barty wrinkles his nose at Sirius’ attire, even if his gaze does linger on Sirius’ exposed stomach then his thighs. He appears to short circuit. “Why are you in leggings?”

“Is that what these are? But they’re flared at the bottom? Can leggings have flares?” Sirius looks down at his legs. “Oh. Hmm, maybe this doesn’t fit the societal constructs on what men are allowed to wear and you are just shook.”

Barty frowns. “What? Siri, it’s fucking 7, be less serious.”

“What?” Sirius looks at him, hands on his hips. He gasps, snapping his fingers. “I’ll just be a girl!” 

Sirius shifts his face but hardly changes his actual features beyond softening his jaw more and rounding his cheeks. While he does know many women with high cheekbones, Sirius does want to seem unsuspecting and young. 15, he thinks, adjusting further. Sirius conjures a mirror, studying his reflection, and nods in approval, vanishing it. He changes his hair color to a copper brunette.

“Voila!” Sirius says, his voice now is much higher and soft. He frowns. Well, that’s fucking new.   

“Holy shit.” Barty whispers, awed. 

“I am a fine boy. I am a fine girl. I am art.” Sirius sends him a speaking look, adjusting his sweater. It is, dreadfully, dark green but it also smells like Hadrian, which was grand, because, well, it was his after all. Sirius just made it much, much smaller. Elias choses this moment to slip into the briefing room, pausing, and looks Sirius up and down, confused, panicked, then realization dawns on him. Sirius claps himself on the back. 

“I have been practicing.” He beams.

“So you have.” Elias responds, looking a bit lost. “I thought I’d have to fire Lovegood.”

Barty squawks. “I need this job. I’m going to be a dad!”

Sirius waves him off. “Nah, you don’t. Work because you like it. Not because you have too.”

“What?” Barty’s face twitches. “What did you do?”

“For this conversation, nothing.” Sirius says innocently, knowing full damn well he had a small fortune sent over to the Lovegood vault as well as the transferred ownership of Alphard’s third house in England, which was barely a house and more of a castle fort or whatever the fuck they’re called. It was a small amount of money to him, but he could already imagine Barty’s shocked outrage. If it was anything like Pandora’s, Sirius will need to hide behind his own wards. Best to keep these things to himself. 

Barty hisses with understanding. “You-”

“Alright!” Crowe chirps happily, storming into the briefing room, eyes wild and manic. He’s in a heavy dragonhide uniform, which is comical in comparison to Sirius’ attire. He frowns at Sirius, nostrils flared, then whistles in sharp approval. “That is fucking seamless. Clap yourself again.”

Sirius gasps, delighted, clapping himself on the back once more. He and his bird have been working extra hard because it was also fun to startle people. Sirius did learn the hard way that he should not surprise James with his version of Lily. He had no idea his best friend was such a thirsty bitch or could say such things! Sirius didn’t know if dirty talk was a genetic trait but he was flustered and embarrassed and quickly changed back because James was trying to fucking pin him to the counter. Hadrian was unamused even when Sirius apologized profusely and James nearly fainted with a heavy nosebleed. In fairness, Sirius did not think James Potter would be so forward in the fucking kitchen of all things. He didn’t even have a chance to defend himself!

“Alright. We got a formal request from Her Majesty to Minister Bagnold.” Crowe begins and Sirius resists the urge to gape like a fool. The fucking Queen? He nearly faints. Crowe’s expression grows dark and serious, setting a manila envelope down on the table. “Two targets.”

Two images materialize above it of a man and a woman. Sirius inhales sharply. He had yet to meet Lucan’s niece, with Amycus still forbidding it, but to see her face on this image has him feeling shaken and wrong. Crowe brings up a map of South Woodford and Ilford. He expands it easily and Sirius notices a park smack between these two places. He’s been to Wanstead once with James because it had a decent running trail and a lake he’d roll around in as Padfoot until James was sick of his shit. It was also heavy trafficked by muggles.

There’s a man with her, his face twisted and haggard. A Dolohov, Sirius thinks wildly. In Muggle London. Sirius doesn’t have to know his charges because he could only imagine how sick it would make him. He has only met a handful of Dolohovs when he still lived a Grimmauld and their tales often made Orion seem like he raised orphan kittens for adoption or some shit. Elias gives Sirius a sympathetic look. Crowe gestures to Barty, who inclines his head.

“Alecto Carrow, 32, current charges kidnapping, murder, unethical experimentation on muggles, kids specifically.” Barty works his jaw. “She’s currently held up in Ilford but the location varies every 12 days, likely due to illegal use of a timeturner. As of now, we don’t have her exact location. Her partner is Antoin Dolohov, 28, current charges abetting in kidnapping, murder, illegal use of unforgivables, and infanticide.”

“How do we know their charges?” Sirius asks. “They haven’t been in custody.”

“I did some hunting.” Crowe gives a lazy shrug. “Busted their original hideout with Crouch but they had already moved on.”

Sirius almost gags, frowning heavily. He glances at the additional report Crowe has from London Police, the increasing amounts of missing person cases. There are so many children on here, Sirius thinks, devastated. He clenches his fist. At least Amycus wasn’t this fucking awful. He liked his cousin. Sure, he had an attitude and was generally bitchy sometimes but he was won over easily enough with food and Sirius putting him on his ass. Lucan did mention his nephew seemed to be back on track after meeting him so hopefully it remained that way. 

“I’ve placed them in one area consistently. Sometimes separate, mostly together.” Barty tacks on plainly, gesturing to the park. “Missing cases pop up every third day, this is the second based on their pattern. Every second kidnapping has them both, this is the second this month based on their signatures. This has been going on since March if we’re going off of London Police’s missing person case.”

Sirius feels sick. “Why hasn’t anything been done? Is it because it’s out of our jurisdiction?” 

Barty nods, pissy. “Likely got some charms up as well for the muggles not be able to find them.”

“They’re locked down tight.” Elias agrees.

“How do you think I got this mission approved?” Crowe grins. “They wanted just cause, I gave it. You still down? I get she’s your cousin.”

Sirius glances at the photo of Alecto. “It is what it is. Amycus is going to be pissy that I finally met his dumbass sister.”

Crowe laughs, startled. 

“Siri’s coming with us?” Barty blinks. He casts a scrutinizing gaze on Sirius’ clothes once more as does Elias then their expressions crack open with understanding. 

“Why else would he be here?” Crowe nods. “Vance set up muggle repellant wards so the park will be dead. We’ll be hiding in le Fay’s shadow with his bird. He’s our bait.”

Barty straightens as does Elias. “Sir-”

“It’s fine.” Sirius says. “I asked for it. I just didn’t know the who per say. Plus, it’s my job. Hugin won’t let anything happen to me.” 

Hugin rears in sharp agreement. 

“There a reason we aren’t doing this the normal way?” Elias presses.

“Their wards.” Crowe answers simply.

Elias’ shoulders slump minutely. “Fine.” 

“It’ll be fine. Or I’d have to deal with Potter’s… eh, would rather not deal with him at all.” Crowe says cheerfully, flicking a metal button to Sirius. “Passcode is turntable. Stick to the route we discussed.”

Sirius nods, excited to go on his first mini mission even if he was just support. It made him feel useful, which was grand. He tugs at Hugin, flicking his hand, and the three of them disappear. Sirius feels a shudder of foreign magic inside him when they arrive. Oh, that’s so weird, Sirius thinks, feeling a bit nauseous. He shakes himself out. Ok, we have shit to do, Sirius thinks furiously. 

He states the passcode and is sucked through a very tiny straw. If his father was still alive, he’d be pleased to know Sirius did not throw up and remained upright even if his brain was scrambled. Sirius gives himself a mental pat on the back then realizes he’s in a bathroom. His nose wrinkles in distaste. He exits into a sparsely furnished apartment. Sirius has many qualms about this because who the fuck put a mark in a bathroom of all fucking things. Hugin lets him know the others have safely been transported. 

Sirius peers out a window, seeing he’s on the ground floor so maybe there was a reason he landed in a bathroom. He leaves the apartment and steps into a rundown, moldy hallway with several doors that are covered in decorations. The sidewalks outside the apartment building are bustling with people, most with briefcases while others are holding their children’s hands, tiny bookbags on their frames as they bounce beside their parents. 

The air is incredibly crisp this morning, which is great and he would love nothing more than chase after squirrels when they’re done. Sirius meanders at a leisurely pace, glancing periodically at his surroundings with faux boredom. He has always been so amazed by muggles, what they can do without magic. It often felt like the wixen world was frozen in time with how unwilling they were to let certain things go. Sirius notices a woman soothing a sobbing child at a crosswalk, how she sweeps them into her arms, how they clutch her neck. He turns away, mouth twisting.

Sirius hits East Boundary Road after passing a station of some kind when he catches on that he’s being followed. He doesn’t react beyond clocking how far they are away. Were people really this stupid or did they genuinely think muggles weren’t capable of common sense? Oh, just my fucking luck, Sirius thinks, spotting a gleam of ginger hair as he turns on a trail. Alecto favors Lucan more than Amycus does, her face severe, but where his grandfather is tall, she is stocky and short. She appears panicked, standing on the trail with tears streaming down her face as she looks around frantically. This is a trap, Sirius thinks, watching her notice him, how the footsteps behind him suddenly go silent. 

Crowe really fucking planned this well. 

“You have to help me.” Alecto says urgently, her face contorted with a fake despair. “My son has gone missing.”

Sirius makes sure he appears alarmed, concerned, and feels Hugin bristle inside him. Let her take me, he reminds him, feeling that spark of biting rage that answers. Alecto hurries to him as Sirius makes a show of reaching into his pocket but it’s not Alecto who strikes him, no, it’s someone from behind him. Sirius’ mind scrambles, vision distorting terribly, which fucking sucks, coupled with a sudden apparition when he’s yanked up in his cousin’s arms. He vomits all over her because fuck you. Jesus, did no one have fucking manners anymore? 

A man’s voice laughs. “Oops.”

“Fuck off.” Alecto spits. “Take this bitch while I clean up.” 

“Pretty thing for a mudblood.” Dolohov says dismissively, scooping Sirius into his arms, who nearly vomits again at the aggressive handling as his mind struggles to right itself. Sirius can vaguely hear crying coming from beneath them. He blinks furiously and the room spins before slamming to a sharp halt as Hugin works inside him. Fuck, he may throw up again. 

“Maybe if they’re a failure, you can have a filthy pet.” Alecto sneers, stomping away. Sirius sends the signal to Hugin, stiffening as Dolohov shuffles him against his chest. He moves to fucking grope him when Crowe materializes behind Dolohov, hands snatching his chin and forehead and twists in one perpendicular, terrible motion. He crumples to the ground with an ugly noise.

Holy shit, Sirius thinks, nearly falling when he gets his feet under him. Crowe catches him quickly by the forearm, nostrils flared, just as Barty and Elias appear. He claps Sirius on the shoulder, looking him over quickly, eyes a bit wild and incredibly gold. Sirius shakes his head, gesturing to the doorway Alecto went through. Crowe squeezes his shoulder before stalking silently after her. Barty follows, casting a questioning glance at Sirius. He shoots him a thumbs up, watching the tension in Barty’s shoulders leave him. 

Sirius turns back to Elias, who is clearly stewing in anger and nudges him with a reassuring look. Elias flicks his fingers, glancing around the living room they’re in. Sirius moves around silently, wrinkling his nose at the run down fucking squalor they’re in. It smells like shit. There’s mold everywhere with a crunchy looking texture. The couch has been gutted, exploding a foul smelling cushion. Every window is boarded up. Hugin tugs at him and Sirius follows the pull, feeling along the walls. Alecto startles in the distance but her voice is quickly snuffed out. 

“Here.” Sirius says, ripping down a grimy painting. There’s a sloppily placed wall. Elias stabs his wand into a crack and it melts like wax.

“I don’t want to scare the kids.” Elias says softly then glares at him. “I will go first. There may be more.”

“Yessir.” Sirius salutes. He almost immediately has to clamp a hand over his mouth when he follows Elias through the damp doorway. There’s a set of rusting stairs, an awful stench wafting the air like a sickly film. Elias stiffens, vibrant rage settling across his face and Sirius finds he’s not too far behind. He can vaguely hear screaming from upstairs but it is no match for the startled despair of the children before him, locked in kennels and filthy. 

There’s only 3 but that was still too many. The oldest barely looks 11, shielding a cowering girl behind him as he tries to look strong even as his mouth trembles. Sirius wants to be grateful they’re alive but he can only imagine what lingers after, after this god awful experience. What kind of sick fuck does this? A dead one, Sirius thinks furiously. He helps Elias get the kennels open, heart breaking when the children shrink back from them. He wonders how long they have been here, why it took this so long to be escalated, why, why, why.

Hugin rears sharply, bodily slamming a witch, who springs up behind them, into the wall, and Elias is already moving, wand shifting into a knife as he slams it hard into a burly man’s throat, who is squeezing out of a crack in the cellar. The man gurgles, slumping when Elias shoves him to the floor. His gaze flickers to the witch trapped against wall, her wild fear twisting her features. 

“Are there more?” Sirius asks but he isn’t asking her. 

Yes, Hugin sends him a hard pulse. Memories then kill them, he thinks. The responding swell of magic is possibly the most terrifying thing Sirius has ever felt. Several thumps come from inside the cellar walls. They must’ve been waiting for us to be distracted, Sirius thinks, watching blood seep through weak cracks in the walls. They masked their signatures well. The witch crumbles with an inaudible scream, clawing at the large, feathered hand that has her pinned until she dissolves like stone. Elias steps back slowly and the man before him collapses to the floor, empty eyes locked on the ceiling, hand limply curled around his wand. Good fucking riddance.

A series of silver vials appear in Sirius’ hands. Elias’ eyebrows shoot up, nodding sharp with heavy approval when Sirius passes them to him. A startled whimper brings them back to the kennels.

“T-There’s another lady too.” A girl’s voice says. 

Alecto shrieks from upstairs then there’s a pop and deafening silence. The boy looks up at the ceiling befor turning back to them, trembling with relief, but still so distrusting. Sirius can understand. 

Sirius manages a grin. “Looks like we got her.” 

“They’ll be wiped.” Elias assures him softly. 

“One kindness.” Sirius responds, moving to kneel before them. “Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Cat.” Another child mutters, curled up tight in the corner of her cell.

Boo, Sirius thinks but conjures the image of a shadowy cat that circles his hand with a large fluffy tail before trailing into a kennel. His heart clenches. He was so used to this specific breed that it was just second nature at this point. The child who spoke looks at it, sniffling, then hesitant reaches out. The cat bumps into her hand, smoothing along her arm and purrs loudly. She gathers it tight in her arms.

“Magic isn’t real.” The boy mutters.

“Oh? Try me.” Sirius suggests kindly, earning a look of furious confusion.

“A dog.” The girl beneath him says.

Good choice. Sirius shifts smoothly in Padfoot, earning a shocked shriek. He sits on the filthy floor, head tilted and wags his tail. 

“Noah, she became a dog.” The girl says, awed. Oh, Sirius forgot he was still in disguise. He barks softly. 

Noah scoffs, tears stinging his eyes. “What about a hippo?” 

What the fuck is that, Sirius thinks wildly but Elias steps up, waving his wand and taps it along the air. A shimmery something appears, massive with large knobby looking teeth and Noah gasps. The girl pushes out from Noah. He tries to stop her but she throws herself at Sirius, who shifts back to catch her, and promptly bursts into tears.

“Can we go home? Please.” She sobs and it breaks Sirius’ heart.

“Oh, yes.” Sirius says, smoothing a hand over her matted hair. 

“We can?” Noah asks hopefully. He grits his teeth, flushing in shame. Oh, that won’t do, Sirius thinks.

“Duh.” He scoffs dramatically and finally, finally, there is a small smile on his little face.

“Will you become a dog again?” Noah asks.

“I dunno, man. I need, at least, three head rubs to consider such things.” Sirius says seriously, rubbing the little girl’s back. She clutches him so tightly. 

“Dogs are so needy.” The girl with the cat sniffles.

“They are.” Elias supplies dryly.

“Ouch. Don’t gang up on me.” Sirius laughs and she manages a wobbly, shy smile. Another pop sounds from upstairs, then the sound of a door opening and several heavy footsteps. The children glance warily at each other then turn to them, pleading. Hugin doesn’t react beyond an acknowledgement and there is a whiff of Crowe’s scent. Sirius’ shoulders slump, sending Elias a confirming nod before turning back to the kids.

“No one will ever touch you again.” He promises furiously. “The people here are our friends. We’ll get you home.”

Noah bursts into tears. 

Sirius is forced to stay with the kids while healers look over them but he doesn’t mind, his arms and lap full of incredibly silent, nervous children. The healers’ reports burn him up to several degrees but Sirius just grinds his teeth to prevent it from showing. Sirius has to drink a potion to get the kids to take theirs, Its pepsi but they don’t need to know that. If Sirius could raise Dolohov from the dead, he would just to rip that useless spine out of his body and beat him over the head with it but even that would be a mercy. A child should never be this quiet.

It… it reminds him of Regulus, so small once, so, so silent, always silent as if his voice had been ripped from his throat whenever their mother was around. Maybe Sirius did fail Regulus but he didn’t want to leave, even when Sirius begged and begged and - Stop, he thinks sharply. Sirius rubs his face, mouth trembling. A little hand touches his forearm and Sirius turns his head to see the who girl who likes cats. She lifts her arms to him. Sirius scoops her up easily, opening his arms when Noah and his sister meander back over. They fall into him with tiny sniffles. 

The Aurors finally arrive with three peculiar, high ranking members of the London Police, who oversee the final proceedings. It's the strangest thing to watch how blank Noah’s eyes go when he’s obliviated, how all of them do, and Sirius clutches their little hands between his own until one of the healers, dressed in very strange muggle clothes, escorts them out with one of London Police following behind. Sirius watches them go long after the front door closes behind them. He can faintly hear a siren. 

“What about the girl?” One of the London Police nods to Sirius. 

“With me.” Crowe says as he passes.

“Was it just the three?” Tennison asks, nodding to the burly man’s body when Elias drops him before them. There is, curiously, two additional bodies alongside Dolohov but that would explain why Crowe and Barty didn’t take Alecto immediately. He’s asking Elias but its Sirius, who answers.

“Oh. No.” Sirius responds, flicking his hand. Several bodies dance into the livingroom from the cellar like a flock of marionettes with disjointed limbs. They crumple lifelessly on top of the others. Tennison sends Sirius a hard look then his expression clears in recognition. “We’ve got their memories too. Eli has them.” 

“Ahh, le Fay,” Tennison’s eyebrows shoot up. He frowns deeply, shaking his fist. “I’m going to beat Crowe’s ass for taking you from me.”

Sirius laughs, startled.

“You lost fair and square. No fucking counteroffers. You know I don’t share, Tennison.” Crowe scoffs, pushing back inside the room, Moody close behind him. “There’s bodies in the floor. Smelt ‘em when we dropped in.”

Oh, Sirius thinks, devastated. There are several disfigured corpses beneath the floorboards, poorly transmuted and rotting. Mostly children with two adults wedged between wilting wood like they didn’t mean shit to anyone. How shitty, Sirius thinks, swallowing hard. Crowe grasps his arm gently, guiding him away. His expression is kind when Sirius looks at him. 

The bodies go with Elias after a heated stare down with Tennison and one of the officers. Apparently Thorncroft could revert their ghastly bodies to something their families could bury without seeing such a sight. Sirius didn’t think all this fanfare was needed but apparently even the DMLE couldn’t get away from fucking politics. Barty grasps Sirius’ hand, gently tugging him away from the growing, heated conversation between the police and a menacing Crowe, whose expression grows darker and darker until Tennison neatly interjects with placating hands.

“You good?” Barty asks quietly. 

Sirius shrugs. “I’m glad it's done. What happened to Alecto?”

“Ehhh, well since you’re family, you want a box or a coffin? We got options and payment plans.” Barty grins and Sirius punches his arm. Fucking dick, he thinks, amused. Barty gives him a tight hug before popping away when Crowe sends him a sharp nod.

“Found 15 more bodies.” Moody says, gruff, and claps Sirius on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Better than 28.”

Sirius manages a nod because he was right. He shifts his appearance back, earning startled looks from the two remaining police officers and Aurors. Sirius shakes himself out. What a fucking shitty day. He knew what he’d be getting into, with this job, with everything but this brand of cruelty never made sense to him. Were there not enough problems? Enough grief? Sirius didn’t understand and he likely never would. 

“le Fay,” Crowe says and Sirius forces his gaze up from where it drifted back to the pulled floorboards. “You saved three kids today. Don’t forget that.”

Sirius swallows hard. “Yes, Captain.”

“Go on back.”

Sirius goes. He’s barely back in the briefing room when Hadrian appears in front of him like some fucking ghoul. He catches Sirius’ fist easily, like it wasn’t breakneck speed, and wraps him in his arms. Sirius gasps softly, clutching the back of his shirt. There is another pop and Sirius startles once more. Jesus, these people! 

“Shit, where did y’all keep coming from?” Sirius hisses. 

“Hell.” Hadrian quips, dryly, eyes assessing him critically. He sends Crowe a scathing look, who sighs long and loud. 

“What? He was dead fucking useful today. You know I’m not about to let anything happen.” Crowe sits heavily in his seat. “Take him home. We can do all the bullshit tomorrow.”

“We don’t have to.” Sirius says. He wasn’t some baby! Both of their heads snap to him, aghast, and he shrinks a bit. Oof, don’t like that, Sirius thinks. “That’s not…protocol?” 

Crowe balks. “Sirius, if you think I’m doing paperwork today after having to keep a lid on my entire fucking being, I’ve got news for you. I can see why Potter is going gray. You are ridiculous, little Wraith.”

Sirius pulls a face.

Hadrian makes an affronted noise. 

Crowe laughs at them. “Do you see anyone else here?”

“No?” Sirius answers slowly. Barty wasn’t here and neither was Elias.

“This shit sucks.” Crowe rubs his face roughly. “Go home. Hug your family. Roll around outside. Potter, get this dog out of my face before I start wailing at the walls again.”

“Yes, Captain.” Hadrian tugs Sirius from the briefing room before he can even conjure up a response. Oh, Crowe did have his daughter at home. He could only imagine how he was feeling right now. Hadrian drags him through a shadow wall, which is somehow less terrifying than before, and rears on him sharply. 

“I’m fine.” Sirius says. He’s not but damn, he is not used to such mothering that wasn’t fucking James. He notices they’re in Hadrian’s bedroom, which was great because Sirius could already imagine Umbra’s bullying and he’s already over it. God, and Gatsby. 

Hadrian’s expression softens minutely. “It’s fine if you aren’t, Sirius. That isn’t a weakness.” 

Sirius looks at him and his mouth trembles before he can stop it. He grits his teeth, vision blurring as tears sting his eyes. He asked for this, knew what he was getting into. Tears spill from his eyes when he blinks. Shit, Sirius thinks. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hadrian pulls him in, holding him tight and Sirius buries his face into his shoulder, grasping the back of his shirt tightly. 

“You helped save three children, Riri.” Hadrian says softly. “Those are three more childhoods, lives, play dates, and nagging their parents bald. Imagine how many more will live these same lives because the garbage has been eradicated. So many more baldings. It’ll be pandemonium.”

Sirius manages a trembling laugh. “One of them liked cats over dogs.”

“Oh, that’s just fucking sick.” Hadrian responds, disgusted.

Sirius laughs again, sliding his arms around Hadrian’s neck as he hugs him tightly. Reframe, Sirius thinks. Three more to grow old, to whatever they want to do in life. They will never remember today or what they witnessed. Hadrian’s bedroom door is suddenly kicked open and a furious James Potter, still in his training uniform, stands in the doorway beside an equally enraged Marlene McKinnon, who is also still in her internship robes. Oh no, Sirius thinks wildly.

“Ah, you got my message.” Hadrian says, cheerful and the devil.

“Oh no.” Sirius whispers, cowed.

“Oh yes!” James and Marlene shout in unison.

Notes:

So. We are done. Heck. Sorry for the late update, I have the fucking flu and my dogs are demons.

Additionally, I truly believe that political wise, the Queen and like a select few would know about the magical world because well, they do govern everything even if the magical world is "separate" if that makes sense so I imagine there would be a delicate balance in some cases, like this one.

Wah. Will try to get the next chapter out tomorrow. Likely the day after because I am suffering ™ and I have a FT job and schoooool and these damn dogs. le sigh. Cheers.

edit: i realize the queen is dead but she is not here okuuuur *material gworl*

Chapter 27: Sage

Summary:

A dog gets a brain break and then gets roasted (in two ways)

Notes:

As fucking promised I am HERE. Gah. Gaaaaah. I can only breathe out one nostril but! I have! Pho! so a win!

TWs, they be fuckin *hair flip*, das it.
Lowkey forgot to put the breaks before and after last time so I've done it this time.

to skip the debauchery I have added - before and after. There should also be an additional paragraph break.

- Sirius' the dumb banana dog
- Insufferable vs fucking insufferable (side eye)
- discussions of Regulus Black
- Patroni changes
- Sirius gets roasted
- Sirius gets roasted
this is twice for a reason I will not accept criticism

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Hadrian, please.”  

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose. They’re in Sirius’ bed, surrounded by his massive array of pillows because he needed more and Hadrian can glare all he wants at their greatness because he is weak in the face of their maximum comfort. Combined with Gatsby’s incredible warmth, it is a firm sentencing. Plus, he is super comfortable and wrapped up in one of Hadrian’s sweaters so he feels this is the perfect time to be insufferable while Big Potter is boneless from having his dick sucked.

Sirius pushes further into his chest, chin settled on his sternum as he blinks rapidly at him. He squeezes Hadrian’s waist harder until Hadrian levels him with a look. Sirius pouts. Hadrian glowers. Sirius makes little whimpering noises, pouting harder. He feels his eyes grow big and wide and Hadrian laughs, startled. 

“You’re fucking insufferable.”

We are connected, Sirius thinks, blinking. “But I haven’t fucked you. Wouldn’t that make you fucking insufferable?”

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian sighs, suffering.

“Hadrian.” Sirius grins. “Just let me see your dog.”

“I never agreed to this statement.” Hadrian says dryly.

“Are you sure?” Sirius tilts his head, humming. “I guess if you had a knot, I’d know.” 

Hadrian chokes.

Sirius tilts his head to the other side. “Pretty please.”

“Why so interested, Riri? Maybe I haven’t finished growing my last tail and I’m shy.” Hadrian grasps Sirius’ face in one hand, gently shaking it. Sirius turns his eyes wide once more then frowns deeply, earning a quiet laugh. Growing a tail, Sirius thinks. Last tail? How many tails must one have? He has many questions and is a bit jealous because he only has one tail! Maybe this is for the best, Sirius thinks, remembering the last time he wagged his tail so hard it almost broke. He bled for days and kept making pitiful noises until James threatened to put him down even though it was James’ fault his tail was in such a state!

“Because I want to know.” Sirius pouts. “I’ve already seen your weird deer.”

Hadrian laughs. “ And yours is just a weird dog.”

Sirius laughs weakly. Light spells came so hard to Sirius, unlike James and Remus, but eventually, he got it down and finally saw his corporeal form. It had been a cat, a maine coon Regulus had scoffed but his ears had been so pink with this revelation. How Regulus could deny Sirius had any love for him was baffling, exhausting, and then Sirius ran away and when he finally, finally had the mind, the will to cast a patronus, it was Padfoot staring back at him like his soul caught up before his heart tried to. 

Sirius’ mouth twists. “Do you think… I should change my mind? About Regulus?”

“Do you want to?” Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him. “Does he deserve your mercy?”

“He loved me once.” Sirius admits but that person was dead. 

“He disowned you, Sirius.” Hadrian says gently.

Sirius knows that. He wonders what Regulus will be like once mam- Walburga finally dies. Alone in that rotten house, alone with that awful family. No, not alone. He’d have Remus, who Sirius once had, but he never had Remus, did he? Sirius never had either of them even though they had him. Let it rot, Hugin pushes back hard, trembling with a murderous rage inside him that makes his jaw ache. Oh, Sirius thinks, sagging into Hadrian’s chest. He does wonder why he feels less angry most of the time while in turn, Hugin just feels more and more furious with everyone who has wronged them. 

“I think Hugs took my emotions.” Sirius says. “They’re… there but it's like a film is over them so it's dull.”

“You did release a blood curse.” Hadrian cards a hand through his hair. “Something has to feed it.”

That makes sense, Sirius thinks. “What an amazing birddog I have.”

Hugin ripples with pleasure. Silly bird, Sirius thinks, amused. He settles his chin back on Hadrian’s sternum. “Are you upset with me?”

Hadrian’s eyebrows shoot up. “What did you do now?”

“About the mission.” Sirius supplies. “Eli gave me a fucking earful. Artemis had to save me but also said I was dumb and then forced me to buy him food. Well, I wasn’t forced 'cause I was hungry but still.”

Hadrian appears thoughtful, inclining his head as his jaw works. “I get why you did what you did but it also would’ve been nice if you would’ve told me instead of me finding out from fucking Lovegood of all people.”

“Oh.” Sirius pouts. “You’re already so busy. I didn’t want to bother you or look like I was complaining or some shit.” 

“You’re being dumb.” Hadrian says, blunt. “I know you’ve been itching to get on the field. Don’t feel like you need to rush shit just to feel useful. You’re already ahead of the majority of our newest recruits.”

Sirius slumps, raspberrying. “I feel like I have a lot to prove to people. Cause of my name. I don’t know… its worse than being a Black. The way some of them look at me… I don’t know, man. I’m not my parents. I’m not-”

“You’re right.” Hadrian interrupts smoothly. “You’re not. You are the beginning of Orion, you are the end of Isolde. You don’t need to be either of them when you’re already enough as is. Didn’t your father tell you to be bold? Your mother told you to be more. Why should you be either of them when they want you to be what you already are?”

Oh, Sirius thinks, mouth twisting.

“Don’t be afraid to talk to me.” Hadrian sniffs. “The worst I’d do is give you a look.” 

“Aww, you like me.” Sirius grins.

“Duh.” Hadrian flicks him softly on the forehead, sitting up and scooping Sirius into his arms before he’s jostled off. Then he’s gone in a sneeze of magic and a furred head rubs against Sirius’ cheek, sliding under his chin as a firm body settles beneath him. Sirius squawks, staring into the eerie eyes of a fox, fur a stark white and shimmering with subtle strokes of silver and pale gray fur around its narrowed eyes. Why is he so big, Sirius thinks wildly, vaguely registering the quiet whip of a tail. He peers over his shoulder, to see not one, but two fucking tails! There is another but it hasn’t quite reached the fluffy length of the others and- Sirius squawks again. They change colors! 

Sirius gasps. He had thought James was a bit too specific in what kind of foxes his brother liked.

Hadrian nudges his chin gently, curling around him with his lithe body, settling his head on Sirius’ shoulder and fucking laughs. Sirius is immediately enamored. He coos, sliding his hands along the fine fur of Hadrian’s neck, watching in quiet awe when it ripples subtly. The tails change color once more, now a dusty blue when Sirius removes his hand they become gray once more. Hadrian huffs, ears flicking, pushing demandingly into Sirius’ hands. Sirius laughs, continuing his scratching and Hadrian melts against him, tails shifting rapidly between various colors before settling on that same shade of blue. 

“Fuck, you are soo soft.” Sirius hums. “Prettiest fox I’ve ever seen- Are you fucking purring?”

Hadrian makes a strange squealing sound that charms Sirius to his fucking core. Just a baby, he thinks, laughing when one of the tails lightly smacks him in the face when he stops scratching. Sirius is curious as to why there are so many. He catches the sound of his door opening and cranes his head to see James, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised high. Hadrian ignores him.

“What’s this then?” James asks severely. “We agreed that you would let me watch his reaction when you showed him. This betrayal cuts deep, Haz.”

Hadrian shrieks in response. James immediately appears offended. “Now, Hads. Be nice to your little deer, who you love and cherish and have killed for.”

Hadrian lifts his head to look at him. James stares back then breaks out into a sweat. Hadrian feels smug when he turns away, wedging his face in between Sirius’ shoulder and neck and sags once more.

“Him’s just a baby.” Sirius hugs Hadrian tight. “Just a boy.” 

“Ain’t nothing boy about that creature or the things he’s done.” James mutters. “Get up. We are playing Cards Against Humanity once maa has finished praying. She has agreed.”

Hadrian’s head snaps up so fast it startles the shit out of Sirius. He shifts back, grasping Sirius’ forearm before he can fall back on the bed, and settles him in his lap, hissing, “You’re fucking joking.”

“Nope.” James grins.

Hadrian, possibly, short circuits. “Fuck yes. We’ll be down in 20. Now get out.”

“I’m only wearing a sweater.” Sirius nods solemnly. He was very lazy today, which felt deserved after the trash week he has had. Having to give the news to his grandfather and cousin had been terrible. Sirius has never felt so much anxiety in his life until Lucan asked what his idiot niece had done. Sirius didn’t sugarcoat it and by the end, Amycus looked green and Lucan flicked his fingers dismissively. His cousin was very quick to say he'd never do anything like that. Nonetheless a win and they didn’t hate him, which was grand and no one has attempted to kill him this week of the cult variety so a win is a win is a win, damnit. His mother was still pissy over this information. God, she comes home Sunday, Sirius thinks wildly.

James gapes. “So! It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Not to mention the amount of times I have walked-”

Hadrian says something in hindi that has James laughing nervously and skittering out of the room very quickly. Sirius watches him go, amused, then turns to place a tiny kiss on Hadrian’s chin. Hadrian sends him a look but does kiss him when Sirius flutters his eyelashes at him. Hadrian hums, confused, when he gets his hands under Sirius’ sweater. He pulls it off easily, gaze fixated on Sirius’ now bare stomach.

“This is indecent.” Hadrian says lowly, fingering the delicate diamond chains that adorn Sirius’ belly, one right above his navel with the other dipping just below it.

Sirius perks up. “Marly said we both have slutty, little waists, whatever that means. She wanted to match. I don’t know how to take them off. There’s no clasp.”

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. “How did you get them on?”

“Oh. Uhm, I didn’t.” Sirius laughs. “She wrestled them onto me before I took a nap. Cassie was not amused since my dick was like eyelevel or whatver. In my defense, Marlene has seen my dick. How are you just now noticing?”

“You had my dick in your mouth literally the second I woke you up.”

“The perfect post nap lunch.” Sirius chirps. 

 

-

Hadrian’s lips quirk, expression going dark and he presses Sirius down, sliding neatly between his legs. Oh, Sirius thinks, shivering when the hand on his stomach slides along his waist. Maybe this was a great idea. He will have to get Marlene bountiful snacks for her services. Sirius lifts his chin, pleased when Hadrian dips down to kiss him.

“Thought you said 20 minutes, Hades.” Not that he truly gives a fuck.

“This is your fault.” Hadrian responds, mouthing at his neck, touch insistent as fingers slide along his sides, his ribs. Sirius bites the inside of his lip, heat curling in low in his belly. He grasps the back of Hadrian’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Hadrian sighs, gripping his waist tightly, and presses closer, cock stiffening in his sweatpants. Sirius licks his lips feeling a bit fiendish. 

“Lucky you. I only need 10.” Hadrian murmurs, taking Sirius’ hardening cock into his hand. He pumps lazily, watching Sirius arch with heavy eyes. Wow, what confidence, Sirius thinks knowing it’s damn well accurate. He supposes he shouldn’t be this excited to get fucked but alas, here we are. Sirius isn’t really thinking about that though, especially when Hadrian is licking into his mouth and keeps touching him. 

Sirius feels faint, mind swimming like a herald of goldfish, and ruts into Hadrian’s fist. “You should fuck me.”

“Oh?” Hadrian hums. “Are you a pastry, Sirius?”

Sirius blushes furiously. “No?”

“Sounds like a question.” Hadrian responds, flicking his wrists, and dips down to suck a nipple into his mouth. Sirius realizes Hadrian has asked a question, was it a question, and makes a confused noise that is immediately distracted by the fingers pressing against his hole, how Hadrian grips his pec, and Sirius truly doesn’t think Hadrian said anything at all. He does have enough sense to get Hadrian’s shirt open, immediately sidetracked by chest and mm, simply so fine.

“You get so dumb, Riri.” Hadrian coos in his ear, working Sirius open as he strokes his chest, his belly; how he palms Sirius’ cock but refuses to take it into his hand again. Sirius whimpers, pushing down on Hadrian’s fingers, wiggling a hand between them so he can fuck his fist himself. Hadrian’s hand is suddenly there to prevent such things, laughing darkly like the fucking menace he is as he pins Sirius to the bed. 

“Oh my fucking god, you are so mean to me.” Sirius whines.

“I’m so nice, Riri.” Hadrian’s voice is incredibly strange right now but he’s sliding roughly inside before Sirius can think of an additional snarky remark. Ohhh shit, he blinks, shuddering, and grasps the forearm braced beside him. Maybe I am a pastry, Sirius thinks wildly, whining high in his throat. He exhales hard, stomach twisted in feverish knots. A pitiful noise spills from his lips, torn between the sensation of being stretched so far and the biting mouth moving along his neck and shoulder. Hadrian groans deeply when he clenches and the sound goes straight to Sirius’ cock.

“Let’s keep to my promise,” is all Hadrian says before he is moving, cock dragging slowly out of him, head kissing his rim before driving back in hard. Sirius chokes on a moan. God, his fucking guts currently. Sensational, Sirius thinks, realizing he may just be fucking stupid. He truly believes Hadrian came from hell because what the fuck. This is an equally terrible and amazing experience. He kisses him, grasping the back of Sirius’ thighs, and hooks his arms under Sirius’ hips, cock nudging deeper with each hard thrust. Oh. Oh. Sirius shivers, hands tangled in his shirt, and fuck, fuck this stupid man. He moans softly, wrapping an arm around Hadrian’s shoulders to pull him closer. His voice shakes, “Ah, s-shit.” 

“So messy, sweetheart.” Hadrian cups Sirius’ weeping cock. “Such mongrel behavior. Ah, then again, you bared your belly to me so easily. How many pups shall I fuck into your womb until you’re happy?” 

Sirius cums, face flushed hot with embarrassment, thighs trembling where they bracket Hadrian’s hips but Big Potter simply pins him to the bed, battering against his prostate even as he shivers and whimpers in sensitivity. Hadrian hums in satisfaction, stroking and plucking Sirius’ nipples, voice so low in his ear that it makes him tremble, “Good boy, little thing. We have four more minutes.” 

Oh, I’m going to die, Sirius sniffles, accepting his fate a bit too easily when Hadrian tangles his fingers in his hair.

 

-

 

James leers at him from where he’s stretched out on Sirius’ bed once he rejoins society as a human being and not some strange, whimpering animal. James opens his mouth. Sirius lifts his hand to silence the audacity about to come out of James Potter’s mouth because he needs a moment to exist beyond being a sentient fleshlight. Sirius doesn’t even know how he’s still standing, snuggly dressed in tiny shorts and a borrowed sweater. He has socks on. What? Sirius frowns. When did he get dressed? Wait. Did he shower? His hair is damp. Sirius frowns, confused. 

Hadrian whistles cheerfully when he strides out of Sirius’ bathroom, put together and the devil. He shares a look with his brother and they both glance at Sirius where he stands, blinking, possibly stupid, and share a seedy grin that makes him blush. Hell, when did he get so embarrassed about shit? Sirius has given numerous, almost clinical details about his sexual adventures but never has he felt like this. 

“Pads, are you good?” James asks, innocent.

“He does look a bit lost.” Hadrian agrees, smile mocking. 

“Oh man.” Sirius sniffles wetly, a realization dawning on him. This is why Marlene gave him such things. He can already imagine her bullying. His face crumples, earning twin looks of alarm. “I am a pastry. A dumb pastry like an eclair. I don’t want to be an eclair.”

Maybe he hit his head somewhere, like in the shower he doesn’t remember taking. Oh, yes, most likely, Sirius thinks. 

“Omg, Pads!” James scrambles off the bed, hands raised over his head. “Jesus, Hadrian, what did you do? You broke him.”

“I did not.” Hadrian hisses, offended. “He always gets like this.”

James gapes, aghast. “Hadrian Shani.”

Hadrian glares at him. “Don’t fucking start that shit with me like you’re any fucking better. Your imperturbable charm is still sloppy, little brother.” 

James’ face goes red. “Eh..heh?”

Hadrian sends him a pitying look. “I have commentary but I will be kind.”

“Oh thank god.” James sighs heavily in relief. 

“Why aren’t you this nice to me?” Sirius pouts.

Hadrian blinks, incredibly lazy and slow, and Sirius flushes deeply. Hadrian snorts, taking Sirius’ hand in his and he kisses his forehead. Oh, wow, Sirius thinks. Is this what lack of hugs in one’s childhood lead to? Swooning over forehead kisses. James bounces excitedly out his bedroom, Hadrian following behind as he tugs Sirius with him. Sirius does really like hand holding he’s discovered or maybe he just like holding Big Potter’s hand. 

Hugin roots around before peeking out of his chest with the head of something serpent. Hadrian makes a charmed sound when he notices him, patting his shoulder, and Hugin slithers out, scales made of spiked little feathers. Sirius runs a hand along his spine as he goes. Hugin curls around Hadrian’s neck with a lazy flick of his tongue, body draping across big Potter’s shoulders like a strange scarf. Cute, Sirius thinks happily, lifting to rub his head. 

The parental Potters are in one of the sitting rooms on the lower level with Marlene, Lily, Dorcas, and Severus fucking Snape. Sirius points an aggressive finger at him, earning a serene smile. 

“You bastard, you lied to me.” Sirius huffs. “You said you weren’t visiting this week.”

Snape sips his cup of tea, deadpanning, “Because I lied.”

Effie laughs, quickly muffling it behind her fist.

“Genuinely hate it here.” Sirius sniffs, waving hello to the rest of them. There is a curious, thin black box of cards on the table. It looks ominous but Sirius feels his just being bitchy. Hadrian sits him between himself and Snape as James dramatically spreads his arms, Marlene quickly joining him and it looks like a weird synchronize dance of some kind.

“Friends,” Marlene begins.

“And family.” James nods solemnly. “Today Mama Potter has agreed to play the mundane game of Cards Against Humanity.”

“The game of muggles and censored debauchery,” Marlene continues. “Will be played by not one, or two, or even three poshy purebloods but also the poshiest bitch I know, Sirius le Fay.”

Sirius gasps. “I’m not poshy!” 

The unified head turn has him sweating in seconds. Monty clears his throat delicately, “Before we begin, I feel like we should remind Riri of how he is, in fact, posh. I’ll go first. Upon his first time arriving to Potter Manor, he slept in the armchair in his room because, and I quote, the thread count for his sheets was not high enough.”

Sirius gasps, betrayed. “Monty!

“Granted, he did cry in embarrassment the entire time.” Monty amends. This side commentary was not needed!

“Allow me to go next, baba.” James sniffs. “I, the first humble servant of Sirius le Fay, purchased a box set of bonbons and mirror glazed strawberry eclairs for my most favorite of good boys, only to be immediately asked if the selection provided was from Belgium after one bite.” 

Sirius’ face goes hot. 

“Oh, Siri.” Lily laughs, nearly falling over. “I’ll go next. The first time we were served soup at Hogwarts, Siri asked why we were eating from finger bowls.”

Euphemia chokes. Marlene collapses into Dorcas with a wheeze. She pants, a hand pressed to her chest. “We had to teach you how to say dude properly.” 

“Not to mention the time we had detention with Professor Slughorn and you refused to,” Dorcas clears her throat, taking on a deeper tone. “Sully myself with this desolate grime. Do you not have an elf to do this shit? Professor… are you a poor?”

Hadrian wipes a rough hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling, and there are tears in this man’s eyes. The audacity! 

“I received a rare copy of The Grimoire of the Poisoner’s Guild by Thaddeus Viret that was damaged by my peers. Siri simply asked why I didn’t buy another copy.” Snape states plainly.

“Those go for £250,000 to £500,000!” Lily shouts. 

“Oh, I know. There are notably only three in existence, including the damaged one” Snape nods. “He bought the last two copies. When I asked how he could toss away money so frivolously, I was given a look.”

Marlene puffs out her chest. “Money? What is money to me?”

The table bursts into laughter, much to Sirius’ mortification. God, this is the fucking worst. Sirius wants to be annoyed but he just can’t find it in him, surrounded by all these people, this family. Oh well, he thinks, sullen, when Euphemia gathers herself then starts laughing again, grasping Monty’s hand and Sirius already knows she’s about to be on some bullshit.

“Our first Yule together, we decided to get a tree.” Effie pauses to wipe tears from her eyes. “This boy asks why we would bring sticks into our house and what if there are fleas or ticks.”

“I fucking remember that.” James whimpers. “You were so confused and we asked if you wanted to help and you held the fucking ornament and just…” He wheezes, tickled pink. “Omg, ok. I am here. You looked so sad and asked if you had to eat it and that you didn’t want to.”

Monty roars with laughter. “And he kept apologizing for offending us for not wanting to eat it!” 

“Oh, Sirius.” Hadrian sighs deeply, face in his hands. 

“I know you have one, Aries.” Dorcas simpers. Hadrian exhales, eyebrows raised. 

Sirius squawks. “Don’t you dare-”

“We went to Bond Street recently and Riri wanted to go into this one specific store soo bad,” Hadrian slides a hand onto Sirius’ thigh. “Naturally, we went. Barely there five minutes when he gets pissed and wants to leave because why are they slapping namebrand labels on obvious fakes and selling them for the original prices. He ends up getting into it with the manager because she’s confident they are real when this man decides to pull a shirt from a rack and fucking stretches it. It rips incredibly easy, of course it does. Sirius says, oh, well if this was fucking real it wouldn’t have ripped seeing as I own fucking twelve of these. I’m in one now. Then proceeds to stretch the fuck out of his shirt. Oh, he says, no fucking tears.”

Lily has her head on the table, patting it aggressively. “You did not.”

“Sirius le Fay.” Snape gasps, scandalized. 

“I fucking paid for it. I’m not a monster. I know that shit comes out of their wages.” Sirius sniffs, flicking his fingers. “But fuck, like just say they’re fakes. The engravings were wrong as well like, jesus-” He stops himself, pointedly looking at the corner of the room as numerous snickers occur. His face feels incredibly warm. 

Sirius turns back to them, blunt, “Stop bullying me. I am just a boy.”

“Teaching you muggle slang was the best idea of my life.” Lily sighs. “But sooo hard to get you out of that dialect.”

“Did you take enunciation classes when you were a child, Siri?” Effie asks, innocent.

“Until he was 10.” James supplies cheerfully. 

“Let’s not forget the pinky we had to correct whenever he drank something.” Marlene chirps.

Sirius whimpers, setting the table off once more.

Notes:

Patronus changes are rare and I think can happen due to devastating life changes or some shit so I think Sirius running away was just the final straw that broke the camel's back for his relationship with Regulus and then Regulus' subsequent response likely broke his heart. Personally that feels like a devasting life change, betraying your family, dad is wallowing in bed, your bro hates you blah blah blah or some shit, at least in this fic because I get canon has its own yadda yadda when it comes to the Black Brother's.

Whateveeeer writing Regulus as a trash muffin gives me the ick so naturally I MUST correct this in the next fic. Gah. I've decided I'll be doing both of the fic drabbles I posted in the comments forever ago buuut I'm still on the fence on the main ship. Siiiigh. Lowkey also wanna give Pete a redemption arc in one of them but that's like.... a side quest, a side eye quest because I have bigger priorities

People want Siri with death :money with hands meme:
People want Siri with deathhades/ hades :monkey with hands meme:

God, why must i fight your battles?

Chapter 28: Like Him

Summary:

Sirius and Isolde have a chat about Orion. Mother's unite.

Notes:

TWs, unhinged le Fay & Rudrapatha behavior, Sirius's complicated relationship with his father, references to death, discussions of those who have passed, references to Walburga, implied terrible death, animal death (off screen, monster hunting type shit), eating said monsters

- Sirius "do you like your room" le Fay vs Isolde "ugh i get to see your face everyday" le Fay
- Sirius' crumb of self worth
- a callback to a parent's expectations
- Isolde le Fay & Orion Black, a couple the world did not need
- Wizengamot whispers
- Sirius' general mental health
- Euphemia Rudrapatha vs Isolde le Fay, a friendship the world also did not need
- Hadrian's murdery temper

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Isolde whistles in appreciation. “You’ve done wonders changing this boring place.”

Sirius beams. “I try. I did leave a lot unchanged because the art is bitchin’.”

“Inspiring, isn’t it?” Isolde laughs, peering around her room curiously. Sirius had considered numerous places to put his mother’s portrait but ultimately decided on one of the room’s in the lower level of his wing. He decked it out with various floor pillows, nooks, and tall bookcases. There were several wide windows, framed by fine gold and silver trimmings, that dipped into the garden Euphemia has been having her way with. Sirius did have to remind Effie numerous times that he didn’t give a fuck what she did because the garden at Potter Manor was bitchin’.

Oh, we have to set up the quidditch pitch, Sirius thinks, waving his hand to pull up his to do list. Hugin beats him to the punch, elegant letters skittering across the misty surface. Sirius huffs, amused, and waves the list away. He doesn’t know why he bothers anymore. It was almost like having a more efficient assistant when it was in fact just a constant going stream of consciousness linked to his own. Hugin knew how to make various dishes now and they would often bicker because Sirius could well do it himself. Then his bird would cheat with those puppy eyes like the little bastard he was so Sirius would agree to let him watch and Hugin would nest in the curve of his neck. 

“It is.” Sirius admits. “I found Aurelia on one of the walls.”

Isolde gasps. “Slaying the bandersnatch, yes? She was fourteen, gah. Maman used to be so scary.”

“Is that what that was?” Sirius blinks, unnerved. “Are… are we bounty hunters?”

He couldn’t think of a reason why le Fays would need to kill so many creatures. 

Isolde laughs, startled. “Oh no. As a blood mage, blood is obviously needed for what we do but there are times when we don’t use our own. I suppose it could seem barbaric but alas, creature blood is also good for potions and certain wards. Curiously, all you need is a drop to control someone. Bandersnatch is also delicious.”

Sirius gags. “Maman.”

“Oh, yes.” Isolde hums happily. “So tender but with the right amount of pull. I find it resembled pork very heavily. Orion, also, loved it but I may have lied and said it was pork. Oops.”

Sirius chokes on a laugh, pounding his fist into his chest when he really does start choking. His mother could startle him so easily sometimes. Isolde appears amused by his response, her eyes soft and warm. She has shared many stories about his father and it was a side of Orion Black that Sirius had never expected. He only knew his cruel amusement, that cool, aloof demeanor as he grew and when Arcturus fell ill, Sirius saw him so much less but he still knew how his startled laughter sounded, that he kept the origami dogs Sirius would make for him, that his shadow felt so much safer than not being in it.

Hadrian said he didn’t need to be either of his parents and for so long Sirius would rather be either of them, when Walburga was still his mother, before his father fell ill, when he grew distant and cold but Sirius wonders how often Orion would look at him and be searching for Isolde only to find her nowhere in the child they created together. 

“Will you tell me about him?” Sirius asks. “Your Orion. Before he became my father.”

Isolde’s gaze, if possible, softens more. “Ask and I’ll answer.”

“Did he have a favorite color?” 

“Strangely, yes.” Isolde laughs. “You would not expect it at all but it is coral. Closer to the lighter end so salmon essentially. I found this hilarious because, as I’m sure you know, Orion fucking hated fish.”

Sirius gasps because god, he did. He frowns suddenly. That made more sense than he considered. There was a specific set of silver cufflinks his father wore nearly every day, which wasn’t unusual as a Black's colors were silver and black but the center was a coral rutile that was peculiar. “They were from you. The cufflinks.”

Isolde’s smile falters slightly. “My first courting gift to him. I’m surprised he kept them.”

“He wore them almost every day.” Sirius admits, watching the bitter acceptance that crosses his mother’s face. She swallows quietly, eyes watering. Sirius nearly opens his mouth to say forget it but Isolde waves a dismissive hand as if she knows where he’s going.

“It was unheard of at the time to marry for love. A rarity.” Isolde starts slowly. “My companions were so thrilled with our betrothal announcement. I only told a select few, of course. A Black, they had gasped. How fitting of a Morvain. What a compliment.” She laughs softly. “I didn’t care about that. Papa was thrilled, of course, but maman knew I didn’t give a rat’s ass about this man’s name. A silent stewer I used to call him for how quiet his rage would be, his temper, even if his wand was loud.”

“The Orion I fell in love with rolled up his slacks to join me in rivers, the one who entertained my loud friends because I loved them, the one who hiked the muggle way even if it was barbaric by his standards, the one who never really laughed but his mouth would twitch and he’d have this look in his eye. I imagine if he did laugh freely, he would’ve looked a lot like you, Sirius.” Isolde continues. “Whenever I look at you, I see him. Do I see myself, yes, but I see Orion so much, if he could’ve been anyone else, had any name beyond his own.” 

Sirius swallows hard. He never thought he looked like his father; might’ve had his hair, his eyes but they were hers too, his ears but for so long all he could see was Walburga, all he could see now was Isolde even if some of Orion was mostly present. His mouth trembles and his throat feels tight. “I look like him?” 

“Oh yes, little mango.” Isolde smiles sweetly. “Can you not see it?”

“I..” Sirius swallows hard. “No.”

“Not at all?” Isolde asks, voice kind. She waves her hand and a mirror appears before Sirius then another image stretches beside it and Sirius gasps softly. Orion is younger than he was in the photo of him holding Sirius as a baby, boyishly handsome with his pants rolled around his calves as he sits on some mossy bank, hair longer than Sirius had ever seen it, curling just along his ears, wavy and wild. His face is frozen, silver eyes soft with a strange warmth Sirius had only ever seen a handful of times, the whisper of a smile on his face. Sirius looks at his own reflection, his strange eyes, then turns back to the image of Orion. 

Oh, he thinks, eyes watering. Sirius could see it, could see more. He had the slope of his nose even if he didn’t have the harder square of his jaw but their chins were the same. Even if Sirius’ smile started in the corner, like his mother’s did, that sliver of amusement was theirs. If he could’ve been anyone else, Isolde had said. Sirius wonders what his father would’ve been like, staring at this image that bellies all memories of the put together, stern man Sirius grew up with; an image that was nothing like what the world saw the late Lord Black as. 

An image before grief, Sirius realizes. Orion has never looked more soft, never with Walburga, and oh. His heart squeezes tightly. How long had Orion mourned Isolde long after she passed, how long had he looked at Sirius trying to see beyond that glamor to see her, to see what they created, to know that she had lived once beyond the gifts she gave him. Was the regret in Orion Black’s face the day he left for the stars because he never got to see her again or knowing still he couldn’t tell Sirius anything about her, that this life was a lie, that his heritage was a lie. 

“You are everything like Orion, Sirius.” Isolde tells him. “But you are so much more than he was, more than I was, which is all we wanted for you.”

Sirius peers up at her. This felt like such a familiar conversation and maybe its because he had it recently, with Hadrian. He swallows quietly, “I feel like I’ve been chasing your shadows.”

“What is a shadow to two bright stars on a vast map? What is darkness to a le Fay? It is nothing, little nova.” Isolde says firmly. “You will be everything you strive to be and it will be more than us both. Your father would’ve wanted the same, no matter how much you grew in his shadow, no matter any disappointment you might’ve thought he felt. It is no easy feat to let an heir go but he agreed, did he not?”

“Yes.” Sirius whispers. 

Isolde grins, sharp. “Know that. Feel that. Stand firm. Stand bold. You were always meant to be more and you already are. You’ve accepted our magic, you’ve certainly mastered the appearance shifting much easier than I did, you have brought a great house to their knees- ah, speaking of which, how is that going?”

Sirius laughs, startled. “Uhm, few people died, like Pollux, Irma, and Peter but nothing really beyond that. I did ask for it to be slow and agonizing. Walburga isn't doing great but she's still kickin', I guess. My ex… I don’t think he’s doing very well. He’s a werewolf so coupled with that and the destructive rampage Hugin is on, guess he’s suffering.”

Isolde’s eyebrows shoot up. “And the brat?”

Sirius raspberries, shifting his weight. “Monty, Hadrian’s dad, mentioned that the Lestranges have pulled away now that Bellatrix is… I’m not sure if she’s dead but I didn’t ask for updates after her honeymoon fiasco. I do know she’s essentially sentient soup currently. I considered… pulling my request away from Regulus.”

“Sirius Altair.” Isolde hisses.

“I know.” Sirius laughs weakly. “Its just hard. I’m unlearning a lot. Its just… harder since all the rage and shit is feeding everything. I.. I do feel bad about Peter but I’ve acknowledged that we hadn’t really been friends for a while. I’m, just,” He shrugs. “Unlearning a lot. I feel a bit cracked.”

Isolde steeples her fingers together. “Have… Have you considered a mind healer?”

“You sound like your father.” Sirius sniffs.

“Heaven’s help me, what an insult.” Isolde spits and Sirius laughs. She sends him a withering look. “I simply meant you have been through a lot in just the last year if we don’t include you running away or Alphard’s passing prior, which is unfortunate because I found him delightful… if not, strange. Your uncle was very eccentric and a bit of a sleaze.”

“Maman.” Sirius gasps, delighted. 

Isolde waves a hand. “I’m simply saying that he got your father in trouble with me numerous times with his habits. I’ll make you a deal, if you find a mind healer, and you simply hate it after two sessions, I will never bring it up again and berate my father.”

Sirius gasps again. “You’re deadass?”

His mother frowns. “I don’t know what that means. A donkey?”

Sirius nearly faints in his attempt to not fucking burst into laughter. “I just meant are you serious?”

Isolde frowns deeper. “Well, yes but why is there an ass involved? You say such strange things sometimes. I’m terribly charmed regardless even if I can’t understand a word of it sometimes. Oh. Oh. Is this a muggle phrase?”

“Yes, maman.” Sirius snorts. 

“What are muggles obsessions with donkeys?” Isolde asks, awed. 

Sirius doesn’t have time to dwell on this when Effie is passing by the open doorway and notices him. She perks up, waving a delicate hand in greeting. Isolde peers curiously at the door, unable to see beyond the arch. Sirius sits up where he’s lazing on his side.

“Effie, come meet maman.” 

Isolde gasps excitedly as does Euphemia. Cute, Sirius thinks, charmed. Effie sweeps into the room, all grace, robes gliding along the marble like crushed velvet. She bows deeply to Isolde, who is quick to curtsy, but that feverish look in their gazes makes Sirius laugh. A long awaited plot, he thinks. Sirius may mourn the time they didn’t know each other but alas, that day was not today.

“Euphemia Potter nee Rudrapatha.” Sirius gestures to Effie then Isolde. “Isolde le Fay, otherwise known as Yusura Morvain.” 

“God, I’m so excited. Please excuse my manners.” Isolde squeals.

“Oh, please, excuse mine. I have been waiting for this day.” Effie sighs happily. “You have a delightful child as I’m sure you already know. However, personally, it took much restraint to let him go the first time he entered my home.”

“He inspires such terrible emotions, doesn’t he?” Isolde nods. “I’m still dwindling away at properties. Then there’s the night terrors I’ve been doing.”

Sirius blinks. What? Night terrors?

Effie nods solemnly. “You’ve done such fantastic work despite being bound. Curiously, whenever you are away, your frame glows.”

“Does it?” Isolde claps happily. “Naturally I needed to have some insurance that not just anyone could awaken me. Its incredibly hard to turn blood into gold but what can you do?”

Sirius balks. “Your portrait is made from your blood?”

Isolde blinks. “Of course. What if you discovered your heritage and needed me and I was unable to assist? I simply remain in this blasted paper? Only to venture to the nether? Absolutely not.” She flicks her fingers. “Your other mother seems to understand what I’m saying.”

Effie flushes, clearly pleased. “Naturally. I have made similar plans myself when its my time.”

Isolde immediately appears enamored. “You strike as a japanese knotweed type of witch but I am also sensing english ivy. I’d say buckthorn but gah, how boring.”

“That is what I told my husband.” Effie hisses. “What is vegetation nutrients in the broad scheme of things? In human affairs? Absolutely not. My sons deserve the best. However, I am also considering a sprinkle of giant hogweed.”

Isolde nods very seriously. “Incredibly subtle as well. And a very good addition when combined with spattergroit since it also nullifies one out of two cures. The one it doesn’t nullify is incredibly difficult to make and inconvenient seeing as I doubt most would know that thestrals cry.”

I didn’t know that, Sirius thinks. Gatsby seemed so happy all the time as did Umbra. Granted, Umbra was not a thestral but he was incredibly spoiled.

Effies summons a sliver of parchment and scribbles Isolde’s words down. “I never considered that for spattergroit. However, I have worked it into the wards here. They were so receptive.”

“Oh?” Isolde’s eyes go wide. “I can only imagine how unpleasant they’ve now become to any who aren’t supposed to enter. They’re already dreadful to begin with.”

“If any possibly survived, they would be perish shortly after.” Effie responds, serene.

Isolde claps happily. “Oh, how charming.”

“You two are so scary sometimes.” Sirius admits. He simply stood there, looking between them as they spoke because what else could he do? Such scary women. Wow, so glad they like me, he thinks.

“This is nothing in comparison to my mother or hers, for that matter.” Isolde laughs.

“Or mine.” Effie hums. “Not to mention my sisters. Even if Pradi cannot use magic, she is an excellent toxicologist.” 

“Oh shit.” Sirius whispers. 

“Prajakta Rudrapatha is an incredible woman.” Isolde sighs heavily. “I had the honor of meeting her once when I was in Austria. Is she still married to that idiot man?”

Euphemia’s face goes dark with pleasure and Isolde perks up considerably. It is incredibly interesting to hear the events from Effie’s point of view instead of Hadrian’s younger memories, how Prajakta’s ex husband was a beast of a man and simply terrible but her sister kept it hidden because she didn’t want to bring shame to her family. It made Sirius feels incredibly sad for her and he’s gratified that she was firmly reminded that she did have people willing to terrible things for her. 

Like me, Sirius thinks, strangely pleased. He sits there listening to them exchange, frankly, scary stories that match their energies until Isolde’s eyelids begin to droop and Effie excuses herself with the promise to return, which pleases his mother greatly. 

“If your portrait is activated with my blood and created by yours, could we expand it?” Sirius asks as he rises to his feet.

“I had never considered that.” Isolde tilts her head. “It would take a lot. It took quite a lot to create this in general.”

“I’ll ask our bird.” Sirius hums. “Sleep tight, maman.”

“You as well, my love.” Isolde smiles before her portrait ripples and she’s back in the same position he always finds her. Sirius watches her for a moment before leaving, gently closing the door behind him. He does poke around the house but it appears only the parental Potters are home and currently bickering with Mipsy over who makes dinner tonight. Sirius does find Gatsby in a patch of sun outside with Umbra nesting on top of him. They move to get up when they notice him but Sirius waves them off with a grin.

Might take a nap, Sirius thinks once he’s back in his bedroom. He does startle badly upon noticing a person in his armchair then they dissolve like mist and there is a handsomely wrapped package in their place. Sirius blinks. He didn’t even have a chance to see who the fuck it was! Hugin didn’t respond either, which was strange. Sirius frowns, moving over to the armchair. This vaguely feels like when Sirius found Peter’s head on his bed but there wasn’t a person last time. He opens it nonetheless and gasps quietly to see a familiar ebony hair pin with dangling platinum stars nestled on top of a skull.

There is a note this time. Sirius gently picks it up.

My little master asked me to leave this with you, it reads. Apologies for not letting nature take its course. We’re an impatient bunch.

“That was fucking fast,” Hadrian’s voice comes from behind him and Sirius jumps, startled. He turns to see Hadrian closing the door and turns back to the box then back.

Sirius blinks. “What did you do?”

“What I do for a living.” Hadrian sniffs. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Sirius says.

Hadrian levels him with a look. “I did. She laid her hands on what’s mine, she had plans to try again, I’m not the forgiving type. This wasn’t a kindness, it simply was.”

Oh, Sirius thinks, stomach twisting pleasantly. “What was she going to do?”

“Lure you to that house. That was enough for me.” Hadrian sniffs. “How? I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Oh, Sirius blinks, setting the letter back in the box. “What did you do?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I guess I don’t.” Sirius admits, turning to him. “Was it fast?”

“No.” Hadrian states evenly.

“Was Regulus there?” Sirius asks.

“One room over.” Hadrian answers simply.

“He… Kreacher didn’t say anything? He didn’t notice?” Sirius presses, a bit panicked that Hadrian would even go to such a place. 

“I am very good at what I do.” Hadrian says, blunt. “Are you upset?”

“No.” Sirius answers honestly. He studies Hadrian, the subtle tension slowly leaving his shoulders and jaw, how his index finger twitches minutely. Sirius swallows. “Are… are you okay?”

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. “I am less upset than I was now that I get to see you.”

Sirius flushes. “Do you want to take a nap with me?”

“That sounds fucking great.”

Notes:

Gah, I knoooooow there was not much Hadrian in this but as you can see, our man was busy. I wasn't going to do this chapter at all and skip to the next one, which is just tomfoolery, but Idk I wanted to talk about Orion and also remind Sirius that he is still his father's son even if he doesn't really see him as clearly in himself but also to remind him that he is more than his parents especially after the convo with Hadrian. Feel like this boy needs more reassurance and shit.

I'm pretty sure that I wrote waaay back in the beginning that Sirius could see Orion more clearly in himself but he really only meant in the same defining ways as before, like his hair and ears but mostly just Isolde instead of Walburga. I feel like it was also harder for him to see these things because of how Orion presented himself in general. So before I get off my soap box, i felt this was needed :salute:

I still have the flu but both nostrils are operational. I was going to describe how Hadrian did the heccin murder but I also felt like Sirius wouldnt really want to know.

Tws death description:

Buuuut i will tell yall that involved shoving an entire fist down someone's throat and breaking their ribs and feeling them choke and die. However, Hades still feels this was a mercy :material gworl:

Chapter 29: Wings of Freedom

Summary:

Sirius feeding his seniors.

Notes:

No tws, just vibes

- Sirius & Hugin are cooking buddies
- Leonard Jenkins makes an appearance
- Sirius le Fay vs the Brigade
- food porn descriptions
- Hugin has become more chaotic
- Denise Crowe vs Roderick "bark bark bark" Crowe
- a patroni change
- Potters vs le Fay, its giving bullying

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“They may murder you for doing all this.” Leonard whispers, crouched low beside him.

“At this point, I feel like it would be loving.” Sirius whispers back, slowly rearranging the tiny table stretched before him. He hoped it would translate well, Hugin told him it would translate well, but alas, he was nervous and wanted to do something for his seniors, who have done so much for him. Granted, Barty was not his senior but baby Lovegood just got officially extended a position amongst the Brigade which made him, technically, Sirius’ senior. 

Sirius did ask Effie and maman what they thought he should do and, of course, his mother went straight to murdering their enemies while Euphemia nodded very seriously until they both noticed his dropped jaw. Sirius didn’t think he’d have to tell either of them that they just couldn’t go around killing people but he knew the raised eyebrows wouldn’t be worth it and well, he has murdered people now. It was enough that they were, god, friendly with each other and full of so much fucking teasing. Sirius had regrets, they would not be voiced because he loved them both but hell. 

“This smells really good.” Leonard whispers again.

Sirius grins, nudging him. “You get helper dibs. You don’t even have to eat with the rest of the plebs.”

Leonard appears faint, grateful, then pales. “Ah, they’re coming.”

“You should work with Eli.” Sirius suggests. “You’ve gotten much better since Moody.”

Leonard scoffs but he’s clearly pleased. “He really bruised my pride. I’m usually a lot better about it. I’m just… I don’t. Nervous, I guess, since my ma disagreed. Failure isn’t really an option.”

“Your mom’s a healer, right?” Sirius asks.

Leonard nods. “She was right up my ass about joining this lot. Said I should’ve done curse breaking because it's less dangerous.”

Sirius balks. “Less dangerous?! They aren’t glorified treasure hunters!”

“That’s what I said.” Leonard gasps. “Are… are you a seer?”

Sirius laughs, startled, much louder than he was anticipating and in turn, startles Leonard, who laughs just as hard. A throat clears behind them, startling them both and it just becomes a dissolution of giggles. It's unbecoming but there’s no reason to be, well, serious all the time. Sirius hops to his feet with a flourish of jazz hands. He clocks numerous amused eyebrows including his Potter.

Leonard clears his throat delicately, straightening. “Welcome. le Fay has provided sustenance as a thank you for all your hard work.”

Wow, that was so much more concise than whatever drivel of shit was about to spill out of Sirius’ mouth. Crowe has a mad look in his eyes, nostrils flared, and there is a spark of gold. Sirius wiggles his fingers and the table appears in a flurry of magic, various entrees spread about like a feast of old. He couldn’t help but feel he had truly outdone himself this time. 

There were so many options! Filet mignon crowned with rich truffle butter, perfectly paired with creamy garlic mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus glistening with a balsamic glaze. Braised short ribs, tender from hours of slow-cooking in red wine, sat atop a bed of creamy polenta, accompanied by caramelized root vegetables. Herb-roasted duck breast, kissed with an orange-cognac reduction, shared space with wild rice pilaf and honey-glazed carrots. 

There was, also, corn-fed chicken roulade, delicately stuffed with spinach and goat cheese, nestled beside roasted fingerling potatoes and vibrant sautéed green beans. Moroccan-spiced lamb shanks gleamed under a pomegranate molasses glaze, paired with saffron-infused couscous and roasted zucchini, while grilled lamb chops, fragrant with mint pistachio pesto, were served with rosemary potatoes and charred broccolini.

“C-Clap yourself on the back.” Elias whispers in awe.

Sirius does, delighted. 

“Fucking shit.” Barty sways. His stomach rumbles loudly.

“Potter,” Crowe says dangerously. “If you don’t marry this boy, I will. Denise would understand.”

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. Dorcas’ head snaps to the side, scandalized, but Crowe just nods firmly, arms tight across his chest.

Sirius laughs, procuring a set of neatly wrapped packages from his pocket. He unshrinks them. “Take this home to her and Imani. I also have takeaway plates for Eli’s da, Artemis’ preggo wifey and his doting husband, Cassie’s rambunctious wife we have split custody of and Si’s little sister. I already dropped off Thorncroft’s shit with… whatever that creature was. Super polite.”

Sirius truly didn’t know what it was, just that it was, or sounded female, and very small with a cat’s face on a snake’s body with tiny arms. He was quick to assure the creature that there was enough for whatever other sentient creatures might rest in these labs and it seemed pleased so Sirius just took it as a win. He did promise himself to explore the labs at some other point, mainly because he had to get everything else together and secondly because it was fucking creepy down there! He could’ve sworn he heard ghostly wailing. 

“How…Did you even sleep last night?” Silas asks, appearing faint. 

Sirius blinks. Did he? Pretty sure he did, especially after being bent over- His face goes hot. “Yes.”

“He did.” Hadrian says at the same time, smug. Crowe chokes as does Barty while Elias and Silas just seem confused. Dorcas masks a laugh behind her fist. Leonard blinks then gasps, head snapping to Sirius then back to Hadrian then back and he nods very firmly as if this all makes sense. Jesus, I hate it here, Sirius thinks, embarrassed. Hadrian sends him a wink. 

“R-Regardless I did it all this morning because we had a half day.” Sirius sniffs. “Eat or I will cry.” 

This seems to inspire movement which is great. Sirius also has food for the Auror Department and, naturally, the rest of the recruits but Hugin was dropping things off. Sirius does have a very tiny apple cobbler for his bird. It was incredibly hard to keep his mind completely blank and fucking bake while he felt the suspicious pulse every so often but he knows if he likes apple cobbler, his bird would to. He’s also just rediscovering how much he likes cooking again when it wasn’t an absolute necessity anymore. Sirius was no emotional cooker like Hadrian but he does like giving people gifts. 

A flurry of silver shoots into the break room and swirls directly before him. There is no corporeal form so Sirius assumes it must be Moody because he was a suspicious bastard. He is proven correct when said Auror’s voice spills out, amongst a swell of chaos and furious arguining in the background, “I know it was you, le Fay. Only you’d get this lot riled up with your shenanigans. Guess it keeps me young.”

His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “I need this risotto recipe and I need it today. You got one hour.”

Wow, what a threat! Sirius will have to provide or likely get smacked. Possibly worse. He nods to himself, definitely worse. Even if Moody was not his direct in command, he was a ball buster according to James and general rumors and also, Sirius just liked him. He perks up, feeling Hugin return completely, his little head springing through his chest. Surprise, Sirius thinks, procuring the tiny cobbler dramatically. Hugin kaks in alarm, surging out with a wide brandishing of his silver wings, and very gently snatches it out of his hand before running away on… human legs. This earns several startled noises.

“Our bird is being weird again.” Hadrian comments idly. He has a heavy pile of food on his plate and an additional smaller portion. Sirius does love this shift from “your bird” to “our bird”. Makes his heart go doki doki or whatever that phrase is.

Sirius leers. “Enjoying the fruits of my labor?”

“Yes. This is my third plate.” Hadrian deadpans. 

Sirius gapes, alarmed. Already?! He whispers, “How do you eat so much? Where does it go? Your muscles? Your.. Y-Your-”

“This is nothing,” Hadrian huffs, clearly amused. “Crowe’s on his 9th.”

“I am!” Crowe shouts happily. “Come sit with us, Jenkins. I only bite consensually.”

Leonard sounds faint. “Y-Yes, sir!”

“That’s the spirit, cupcake.”

Elias chokes.

“Chew first, Captain.” Dorcas admonishes. 

“See?” Hadrian hums, pushing the second plate into Sirius’ hands. “Eat. Now.”

Sirius blinks. “Yes, sir.”

The look Hadrian gives him makes his stomach hot. Whew, Sirius thinks, dazed, as he’s tugged over to the break table. Sirius is pushed into a seat between Barty and Silas, Hadrian lazily making his way around to drop down beside Crowe, who is eying his plate with feverish behavior. Hadrian looks at him out of the corner of his eye. They stare at each other for a long moment then Hadrian sighs, long and very loud and forks over his lamb shank with a disgusted noise. Crowe takes it reverently, slides the entire thing into his mouth, and just chews like there isn’t bone. Sirius balks. Wow! Silas snorts, passing over his lamb shank to Hadrian, who nods in heavy approval. 

“Maybe I didn’t make enough.” Sirius mutters, sitting back in his seat when insistent paws bat at his thigh. Hugin climbs into his lap in his familiar form of small bird dog. He eyes everyone’s dwindling plates and barks but it's just a strange bulging noise. There is a ripple of magic and more food appears. Elias sniffles, eyes wet with tears, and drags the entire plate of braised short ribs to himself much to Barty’s immense displeasure.

“Hey. Hey. You better fuckin’ share.” He hisses, pushing across the table. 

“But I don’t want to.” Elias sniffles again, clutching it close.

Hugin barks once more, and alas, there are more short ribs. Dorcas takes them this time with a heated look at Barty, who cows relatively quickly. Hungin sends Barty a pitying look before curling up in Sirius’ lap with a grunt. Sirius moves to share his food when Hadrian cocks a threatening eyebrow at him. He sulks, working through his plate. This shit is fucking fire but he will not say this aloud as it was unneeded given the sheer amount of dwindling plates around him. He gives Hugin the bones, much to his bird’s pleasure, and listens to the heated chatter that dissolves into Barty and Silas openly getting into it over turkey of all things.

Crowe slumps happily in his seat, eyes glazed over. “Shit. That was great.”

“Happy Captain, happy team.” Silas nods firmly. “Good job, little Wraith.”

Sirius pulls a face, disgusted, earning several laughs. The break room door smacks open, Moody pushing his way through with a stormy expression with Frank and James close behind. James shouts, “There’s more?!”

“Fuck off, Potter.” Barty hisses, curling an arm around his food like James will steal it. He likely would the way James is salivating currently as he staggers forward. Oh deer, Sirius thinks, amused. 

“Your hour is up, le Fay.” Moody spits. 

“Oh shit.” Sirius whispers, cowed. “It's just risotto.”

Hugin flicks his boned tail and a piece of parchment pops up before Moody, who snatches it with a curt nod and storms back out the way he came. Frank grabs James’ forearm, nodding to the table Sirius set up in the corner, and they share a quick look before scampering over. Hadrian lazily catches a lambchop hurled his way by James and nods again in heavy approval. Sirius vaguely wonders if they did this as children because it's so practiced. 

“You made risotto?” Dorcas hisses, smacking Elias’ hand when he reaches for her plate. 

“Oh shit.” Sirius whispers once more. “Uhm, there’s more at home?” 

Dorcas nods but her threatening gaze does not lessen. Sirius makes a note to never have this level of offense experienced again because wow, she is fucking scary right now. 

“Who do I need to murder to get an invite?” Crowe demands severely. 

Hadrian snorts, “Just come over. You’re already in the wards.”

“Yes.” Sirius nods. “Well, you all are. I stole your signatures.”

Elias chokes on his bite, wheezing so bad that Barty has to reach over and thwack him on the back. He takes Elias’ last duck breast as payment. Elias sends him a withering look but Barty just sends him a sunny grin.

“How did you do that?” Silas asks, thrown.

Sirius gestures to Hugin. “While Hugs is super great at recognizing people now, we have to be sure he’ll also recognize you if I’m pissed and distracted. Otherwise he’d just go ham. We have safety protocols.”

“They’ve been working hard.” Hadrian sniffs. Hugin grumbles in agreement. Sirius smooths a hand over his thinly furred head, earning a pleased noise. 

“Jesus, y’all work off the clock?” Barty hisses, sagging back in his seat. He lazily snaps a bone in half, tossing it lazily to Hugin, who snaps it up with a sharp noise. Barty makes a cooing noise.

“Hades and Cas are so mean to me so I have to work for my naps.” Sirius pouts. 

“Duh.” Hadrian sniffs, unsympathetic.

“Idle hands bring weakness.” Dorcas agrees easily..

Sirius sulks. 

“Pads,” James whispers, suddenly appearing beside him. Sirius startles, grabbing his face tightly to avoid punching the shit out of him. James blinks then gives him a goofy grin. “Give me your duck. Please.”

“Little brother,” Hadrian says slowly. “If you don’t fuck off.” 

“Can I have your duck?” James asks, unbothered by the dangerous tone even when the other’s shift a bit.

Hadrian sighs, aggrieved. “Take this shit and be gone.”

James salutes, kissing Sirius on the forehead before he skitters to the other side of the table, scoops up Hadrian’s plate and grabs Frank, who manages a thank you as he’s yanked out the door. Sirius can hear Moody’s berating voice so clearly they lingered for too long. He wasn’t expecting them all to eat so much despite making ample amounts of food. Sirius moves to push his plate towards Hadrian when Hugin slowly lifts his head and chitters and another plate appears before their Potter. Hadrian nods very seriously, pleased, but hands over his lamb to Crowe who starts eying his plate. Hugin makes a suspicious noise and, alas, another plate appears before Crowe. 

Crowe sniffles then stiffens, tilting his head, and turns towards the door just as the corporeal form of a wolf patronus surges inside to swirl in front of him. The fear in the Brigade’s faces is a bit comical. The unfamiliar voice of a woman says, “Roderick Antoine Crowe. If I find out you have taken my blouse today when you knew I wanted to wear it today, I will. End. Your. Life. Oh, while I’m here. Please tell Hadrian and Dorcas that if I do not see them in the next week, I will hang them both. Especially that idiot boy.”

Hadrian pales, which is comical, as does Dorcas.

A little girl’s voice follows, “Hi daddy!” 

“Your daddy is in the dog house, would you like to say anything?”

Imani gasps then giggles, “Good luck, daddy.”

“Indeed.” Denise agrees severely. 

The wolf sends Crowe a look before disintegrating. Crowe appears heavily smitten and there are hearts in his eyes as he sways happily in his seat. He lifts his hand, the tip of his wand surging out of his palm and he conjures a patronus in the shape of a honey badger, sugary sweet in his response, “To my beautiful wife, Denise Crowe. Have you checked Imani’s closet, my love? Cause I only stole your jumper from Bottega Veneta, the wool one, and a scarf…. Perhaps your leggings. And possibly another shirt. I’ll let the kids know.” 

He sends the patronus off then deadpans, “I did take the blouse.”

Hadrian chokes. “She’s going to beat your ass.”

“She’s going to beat ours.” Dorcas mutters. 

“Denise sounds so scary.” Sirius whispers, earning nods of agreement. 

Crowe levels him with an amused look, “This was quite tame in comparison to when she learned about Potter’s… sudden interest in someone.”

Hadrian groans, rubbing his face. “I still hear that howler. She’s worse than my mother.” 

“I could hear it in the training room.” Elias comments. He frowns then gasps, eyes darting from Sirius to Hadrian then back. “Oh, that makes soo much sense.” 

“It does.” Barty hums. 

“Fitting, ain’t it?” Crowe grins, pushing himself to his feet with a happy hum. Another wolf patronus appears and he giggles like a child.

“Roderick. Antoine. Crowe. You have one fucking hour!” The wolf snarls then disappears.

“On that note, dismissed.” Crowe chirps. “If y’all don’t take little Wraith’s food, I will and I will not give it back. I’ll also make sure he never makes shit for you again because I’d be offended on his behalf.”

“Yes, Captain,” there is a furious scramble as the others hurry to grab the togo packs Sirius had prepared for their families. He does get numerous words of gratitude before they scamper out. Hugin does chuck one at Leonard’s head, who catches it with a reverent bow then runs away. Crowe chuckles, swiping his several packages, and sends Sirius a speaking look.

“Denise is demanding to meet you. Saturday, noon. I will kill you if you disappoint my wife.”

“Yes, Captain.” Sirius answers quickly, cowed. 

“Good, good. This one will join you or I’ll cry.” Crowe chirps, clapping Hadrian on the shoulder, squeezes, then leaves. 

“Being invested by the Crowes was not worth the drama.” Hadrian sulks, rising to his seat. “Get up. I want to buy you shit and we have to help Jay find an engagement ring.” 

A what?! Sirius gasps, delighted, then frowns. “I have so many things already.”

Hadrian sends him a threatening look so Sirius concedes easily, gathering Hugin in his hands when he shrinks back to a raven. Hugin chirps, bouncing happily as he settles on Sirius’ shoulder. He seems to become even more happy when Hadrian rubs his dumb, baby head. Sirius is a bit worried that Hugin will sell him out on his growing feelings. Were they feelings? Felt like feelings. Don’t be stupid, Sirius thinks, trailing after Hadrian after they straighten to break room.

They do run into a few lingering recruits, who do thank him for the food. Sirius sulks. He meant to be sneaky about it but clearly his bird must’ve done something dramatic. Hadrian does slip his hand into his when they reach the Auror Department and Sirius leans against him. Big Potter has been clingy recently since he went and stole Walburga’s life force or whatever. There was an obituary in the Prophet for her filled with lies and drivels of bullshit on how she was a loving mother and blah blah blah. Sirius does wonder how Regulus is doing but he knows that’s not his business anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.

“Oh, I have to tell Marlene I have cake for her or she’ll kick me in the balls.” Sirius laughs, snapping his wand into his hand. He had so many more happy thoughts now despite everything that happened, has been happening, but the Potters have always been good about filling him with joy, Marlene as well. Severus was a happy accident but Sirius has made him laugh three times in the last few months, which felt like some strange world record. 

“Would hate for you to lose your balls.” Hadrian snorts, pausing so Sirius can send off a patronus. 

“Would take dry orgasms to a new extreme.” Sirius mutters, rapidly thumbing through memories, and a surge of bright silver surges from his wand. He blinks, thrown, awed when it is not Padfoot that peers back at him but a bird. A very large bird.

“Is that a fucking albatross?” James’ voice rings out. 

“Yes?” Sirius squeaks. Its wings stretch wide, filling the hallway with a strange glow. Its fucking massive, wingspan seeming to stretch farther than the tight space allows. The bird regards him with murky eyes, waiting patiently, and Sirius jumps. Words! He needs words! “Uhm, to Marlene McKinnon, I have chocolate cake for you. Don’t come for me.”

The albatross takes flight, wings beating slow and graceful and surges through the wall. Sirius stares at the wall, wide eyed, then turns to Hadrian, whose eyebrows are high on his head, then to James, who looks thrown. Hugin hops to Hadrian’s shoulder as if he knows what Sirius’ next train of thought is. Sirius quickly looks around, shifts into Padfoot, barks, then changes back, frowning deeply. He puts his hands on his hips. 

“Now what the fuck?” Sirius whispers. He is still a dog. 

“It changed again?!” James shouts, starry eyed. “That’s three fucking times, Pads!”

“But it didn’t change when I got disowned.” Sirius frowns deeper. “I sent Padfoot to Cas when Hades was doing the limbs ballet thing.”

“Don’t call it that.” Hadrian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s consider everything. When did the patronus change to Padfoot?”

“When Regulus said I wasn’t worth anything and that the only standing I had in his life was in a grave or on my knees after I ran away. Guess my brain finally settled or whatever.” Sirius nods.

James looks murderous. “He said what? You never told me that.”

“I was embarrassed.” Sirius admits quietly. “My patronus was a cat before.”

Hadrian works his jaw, eyes flashing with fury. “You haven’t used it since Cas?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No.”

There wasn’t really a need for him to do so. Sirius frowns, looking at Hugin the same time Hadrian does. They look back at each other, seeming to come to the same conclusion. 

“So my disownment didn’t change it but accepting my bird did?” Sirius blinks.

James makes a thoughtful noise. “That… makes sense actually. Think about it, while, yes, disownment is a super terrible life change, I think in the back of your mind you didn’t really accept that Regulus could do something like that to you. I mean, he was your brother. Then you did the rigamarole with accepting Hug Hug the birb so of course it’d change again. You accepted everything. That your past relationships were over, that you were done.” 

“Resilience against adversity.” Hadrian nods in agreement. “Guess it could mean good luck but it also could be considered bad luck if you kill one.”

“You cursed your old family.” James nods as well. “They deserved every ounce of shit they got. They crushed you, Sirius. They kept crushing you. He took your heirship even though I know you didn’t care, he took Lupin, he took the last piece you shared with your dad. That doesn’t even include all the shit Walburga put you through.”

Sirius shifts, uncomfortable. He supposes that made sense. Sirius would rather not discuss this at all when a familiar fox patronus appears, laughing inaudibly before Marlene’s voice follows, “You scared the actual shit out of me! I shrieked! Like what the fuck did I do now?! I’ve been so good! Whew, my relief was great when I heard your voice in that monstrosity. You better have cake for me, your wife.”

“Can’t believe I have to marry three people when I get married.” Hadrian sniffs. 

“Yeah,” James laughs. “A whole package deal.” 

Sirius blinks. What? “Bro, what?” 

“What?” James blinks.

“What?” Hadrian chirps.

“Bro.” Sirius balks. 

The Potters send him confused looks. 

“I feel like you’re being really silly, Pads.” James frowns.

“Isn’t he?” Hadrian hums.

Sirius throws up his hands. 

Notes:

was going to drop this yesterday but goooooood the holidays make my family so fucking toxic lmao

someone asked a few chapters ago about patronus changes, specifically sirius' and voila, we have answers now.

next chapter will be... awful but it will be so fun :flips hair: I've been watching more folk horror recently and... it will likely show.

Hope you had good holidays! ^^/

Chapter 30: Gift Shopping

Summary:

Sirius comes into himself.

Notes:

Tws, violence, implied sexual content, blood, scary (i guess) imagery, gore

- Sirius "insufferable" le Fay
- Hadrian "dutiful but suffering" Potter
- a sprinkle of rubbing the fact that he owns Big Potter into others' faces
- Hades' murdery temper
- A subset vs The Real Deal
- Sirius acknowledging he is his mother's son
- James Potter should've been a dog
- Hugin the Snitch ™

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“I truly don’t think we need to buy them anything.” Hadrian sighs, the baskets in his hands that are filled to the brim with various items. He doesn’t sound particularly annoyed but Sirius pauses anyway, finger curled over the edge of a book he was looking at. He peers back at Hadrian, questioning, and Hadrian lifts an amused eyebrow. Sirius slumps in relief. They had been out since 8 this morning and it was slowly cusping on 2 in the afternoon so he could certainly expect Big Potter’s exasperation but as usual, he’s pleasantly surprised by his accommodating behavior. 

“Sorry.” Sirius says, stepping away from the bookcase. “I guess we have enough.”

“I don’t care,” Hadrian sniffs. “I do think you’ve covered all the bases. Possibly the acids as well.” 

“Did…did you just make a muggle chemistry joke?” Sirius blinks, awed.

Hadrian nods seriously, “Trying to be hip with the kids or whatever.”

Sirius laughs, delighted. “You’re only 5 years older than me and 3 years older than Cas. So I think that still makes you a kid as well.”

“What an improvement on my reputation,” Hadrian deadpans. 

You’re so cute, Sirius thinks, then decides to say it despite how nervous it makes him. The responding soft blush on Hadrian’s cheeks and the glare sent his way make his heart skip. Sirius grins, earning a scoff. He watches Hadrian look away, evidently embarrassed which is precious and wonderful. Sirius gives him a moment to gather his wits, deciding Imani would definitely appreciate more books. Crowe had mentioned his kid was a “fucking nerd, god it's so cute” and really enjoyed Arithmancy. Sirius picks up a few selections he’s seen Regulus read multiple times when they were younger. Then snags a copy of muggle statistics that happens to be there as well. 

Sirius knows Crowe is a halfblood and while he sticks to the Wizarding World, Denise was muggleborn so Sirius can imagine Imani has been raised in both worlds. He knows her being a werewolf may lead to struggles if she stays amongst wixen because of shitty things and opinions but Severus did inform him that his mentor was working on something for werewolves. Sirius just didn’t know what it was but Imani also didn’t have scars like Remus did, seemed so cheerful and happy and full of life. This might also be because she had a werewolf for a father, who understood her completely, and a mother, who didn’t care at all. Hope and Lyall loved Remus but even Sirius could sometimes see how strained their faces would be as the moon inched closer and closer. 

“Baby, she doesn’t need advanced statistics.” Hadrian sighs heavily. 

Sirius pouts. “She might. Crowe said she’s a greek. Geek? Geek.”

Hadrian laughs, “Fine. No more. Shit, we still have to get stuff for Denise.”

Sirius perks up, “Ah, I did that yesterday. I went snooping. Well, Hugs did. Crowe has this catalog in his office that smells like her so I just went through it and bought everything she was considering with his upcoming bonus. Now they can just do whatever with it. Oh, I also bought her the new fall collection by Bergdorf Goodman because most of the shit Crowe steals seems to be from there. Oh, but I did discover this brand called Moshood because of Cas but I didn’t know what the fuck to buy her so… might’ve bought everything.” Sirius nods. “Also got her a new mac and the desktop version of whatever the fuck that is. Crowe said she’s going back to school next semester! How exciting. Do you know what for?”

“Her PHD in- Wait.” Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches. “You did what?”

Sirius blinks, innocent. “Hm?”

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian sighs once more. “Am I going to get a howler?”

“Who knows?” Sirius chirps. 

Hadrian mutters quietly, sending him a look before striding out of the aisle they’re in. Sirius bounces after him, eye catching a book labeled “Charms: Make your parent’s bald!” and swipes it as he goes. He hopes she likes them. Sirius did get her bookbag as well because apparently Imani likes bunnies, which is hilarious because he imagines she has killed many as has her father. Hadrian pauses, glaring back at him, and demands, “What did you get Crowe?”

Sirius blinks more, still innocent. “Just a car.” 

“A- What kind?”

“Hey, my house is older than muggle jesus and you said I can do what I want.” Sirius sniffs, dumping his additional books in one of the baskets. There’s so much but Hadrian carries them like they don’t weigh shit. Wow, a whole man, he thinks happily. Hadrian sighs, aggrieved, dragging himself to the cashier, who perks up. She had watched Sirius flutter around rapidly with Hadrian dutifully trailing after him but still her eyebrows shoot up at the sheer amount of shit they have. 

“I think Prongs should be finished with his shopping.” Sirius hums, watching her work through the stacks as the tower precariously. She is so efficient! He would’ve dropped everything. 

“If I have to look at one more broom, I may just break them off in his ass.” Hadrian responds absently, expression awed as he, also, watches her work. 

Sirius nudges him, taking his hand easily. He feels pleased when Hadrian intertwines their fingers immediately. “We still have to go to Aurora & Vow.”

Hadrian groans. 

Sirius laughs. 

“Uhm, that’ll be 7,950 galleons.” The witch says hesitantly. “We do have payment-”

“Oh, no need.” Sirius laughs, forking over his card, unbothered. She appears faint and Sirius truly feels terrible for putting such an expression on her face. 

“Thought it’d be more.” Hadrian hums. 

“Your spending is worse than mine.” Sirius scoffs. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the tree houses you were looking at.” 

Hadrian shrugs, unbothered. “I like buying you shit. I like buying Imani shit. A win.”

“What will she do with a treehouse?” Sirius asks, amused. He watches Hadrian take the bags and send them off with a flurry of shadow hands that has the cashier gasping, fingers pressed to her mouth. There are certainly stars in her eyes. He tugs Hadrian away with a merry wave, watching her clock their hands and the quiet sag of defeat that follows. Yes, this fine man is mine, thank you, Sirius thinks happily, trailing outside. 

The streets are packed with wixen, voices filling the air in a variety of pitches. James wanted to go back to Diagon Alley but Sirius practically begged him to pick anywhere else. For one, he was tired of Diagon Alley and for two, if Aurora & Vow could please Marlene, it could please a picky James Potter so they went to Horizont Alley instead of the various places in France Sirius suggested because James wanted “her ring to be picked in the country we met”. When Sirius then brought up how James and Lily met in fucking Scotland, James had scoffed and said he watched her board the train. Sirius doesn’t believe this bullshit for one bit but he has immense doubts because, well, it was James talking about Lily Evans.

“Ugh, it's packed now.” Hadrian mutters. 

“In my defense, I said we should leave early but someone wanted-”

“Be silent.” Hadrian says pleasantly.

Sirius huffs, catching a flash of wild hair in the distance followed by James’ beaming face when he spots them. He waves frantically. Sirius lifts a hand to wave back, but the moment… lingers too long. The responding sound of James’ laughter becomes distant, muffled, as if swallowed by the thickening air around them. The crowd shifts, bodies pressing closer, faces blurring like a mirage of color schemes. The vibrant hum of Horizont Alley falters, each voice seeming to splinter into fragments, half spoken words, unfinished sentences that hang like an echo of a dulled drum.

Hadrian is stiff beside him, a subtle twitch in his jaw, eyes flickering rapidly over the crowd. Sirius feels it too, how could he not, goosebumps rippling along his arms. His voice feels trapped in his throat, startling badly when Hadrian guides him along the outskirts of the crowd, a furious flicker of tension crossing his usually unbothered expression. He holds Sirius’ hand tight, gaze sharp and calculating. James pauses midstep, a swell of people between them and it feels like a chasm. Sirius doesn’t know what Hadrian’s expression tells him, just recognizes the alarm on James’ face.

“Keep moving,” Hadrian says, low. 

Sirius doesn’t argue, ears ringing with a quiet buzz; a suffocating, invisible flurry of magic sliding over him. It feels nasty. His head hurts all of a sudden, pulsing with the onslaught of a migraine. The alley seems so much longer now, stretched impossibly far; vibrant storefronts, so full of life the first time they passed, are dull and muted like their colors are bleeding into one another. Shop signs creak on their hinges above them. Hugin twitches restlessly inside him, growing more and more panicked as Sirius feels himself slow, like his skin is working against gravity itself. He doesn’t think Hadrian has noticed, doesn’t think anyone has with how they stiffen and pause around him like a still painting. 

Sirius pants, winded, and cups his nose, feeling blood coating his fingers. His chest throbs with agony and Hugin surges wildly inside him, desperate to get out, to leave, to help but it's like they’re both trapped in a thick sludge. The plea becomes a demand, his own voice shouting at him, but Sirius holds firm. He’s in a domain of some kind, which meant they could be in danger, but this place is nothing like his own, nothing like Hadrian’s shadow box either.

“At long last, we meet.” A voice comes from behind him. The tone is so jovial, happy, that it makes Sirius feel strange. He turns slowly, so slowly, and god, what is wrong with him. A man stands behind him, a good distance between them, with a wide smile on his face. He looks almost exactly like Roshan, that little girl, but his eyes are violet. His hair, however, is just a mullish brown. Sirius inhales quietly. 

“Oh? You can still move? How unexpected.” The man gestures lazily to the frozen world around them, “Fun isn’t it? What you can do with control. With power. Granted, my father is much better than I.”

A father? Not the leader then, Sirius thinks. Another pawn. 

“Who are you?” He manages. His voice slurs. He shakes himself out, dizzy, feeling the weight of that gaze on him like a hand around his throat. 

“Ah, that would be cheating, wouldn’t it, cousin?” The man hums cheerfully, looking Sirius up and down. “Still haven’t accepted him yet? Pity. Though that makes it easier for me.”

Sirius bristles, feeling his face go tight with anger. “Hugin is mine.”

This strikes a nerve. The man’s eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise and he laughs and laughs and laughs. “How bold! Naming this thing as if you deserve him, deserve it.” He spits angrily. “le Fays have created an abomination in their quest to be worth more. Always so proud. Always so desperate to be more than. What. They. Are. Weak-”

A hand suddenly snatches him up bodily by the face, rotten and decaying from where it surges through the cobblestone street. Its flesh sloughs off in chunks, fingers gnarled and skeletal where they clamp around his face. The man flails in the air, much like a marionette, surprised, furious, and he obliterates it, crumpling to the ground with an ugly sound, but before he can rise, another hand bursts forth. Then another. And another.

The street is alive with them now, decaying, desperate, limbs squeezing through still bodies. Each one throbs with malevolent intent, fingers snapping and breaking, exposing bone and pus as they claw toward him. The man tumbles down the cobblestone, stumbling to his feet, evading, destroying, but they keep coming, each more feral than the last.

“What is this?” He hisses just as another hand shoots out then another, throbbing and desperate, reaching for him in vibrant demand. It feels easier to move now. Breath rushes inside his lungs and he gasps haggardly, staggering backward. He nearly falls when a hand catches his arm, peering up to see Hadrian slowly turning his head, eyes bright with murderous rage, face twitching against whatever magic is affecting him, affecting all of them.

“You.” The man snarls, teeth bared, managing to evade more and more hands. His eyes flicker between Hadrian and the hands that refuse to stop. God, there are so many, wildly pulsing like a mirage of broken wheat no matter how many more he destroys. They keep growing, still so slow but the intent is clear. He turns to Sirius, expression thunderous, and Hugin decides he’s had enough, shoving himself out of Sirius’ chest, melted fur and feathers bristling along his body as he yowls, loud and violent, blocking Sirius from view. The barrier, finally, shatters and Sirius inhales greedily, feeling that pull leave. 

Hadrian moves before Sirius can register, a blur of fury materializing right in that man’s face but Sirius is distracted by how Hugin crumples to the ground, bubbling like a sick mess of tar. The sight burns into him, and he pushes forward, the panicked roar of wixen springing up around him no match for the one in his own mind. He gathers Hugin shakily in his arms, feeling his bones shift inside under the tarry mess, how he bristles with an ugly, warning growl.

“I-I got you.” Sirius manages, voice trembling. Hugin sags in relief. He… he feels sick; Sirius feels sick, bile burning hot in his throat, and gags, pressing Hugin hard into his chest until he absorbs inside. Sirius braces himself on his hands, convulsing, then vomits sickly bile as James reaches him, frenzied and wild eyed. 

He grabs his face gently. “H-Hey. Hey, Pads. Talk to me, yeah?”

“S-Something’s wrong.” Sirius whimpers. He can’t feel Hugin at all, can’t stop shaking and shaking and everything feels wrong. Still so weak, Bellatrix coos in his mind. Sirius feels himself bristle, the biting rage that burns through his veins like acid. Reframe, he hisses at himself. A subset. A fucking subset. What is a copy to the real deal? He is not a reflection. He is not a fragment. 

Sirius grits his teeth, forcing his head up, and he doesn’t need Hugin to always do the work; they are one, they are one. He’s gotten complacent. This is mine, Sirius thinks furiously, cobblestone sparking under his palm. Of us, Hugin hisses quietly. Magic sears through the grooves of stone, pulsing hot like veins of molten silver. If this copycat could do it, so could Sirius. He can hear his mother's voice in his mind, a sweet coo, be it then feel what you want. He swipes a hand over his bloody nose, watches the blood spark and writhe from vibrant red to a sickly black, and slams his palm into the ground. Stop, Sirius thinks furiously.

The ripple is instant.

 

And.

 

The world.

 

Freezes.

 

James before him, the scattering crowd, Hadrian with his hand around that man’s throat, wand pressed hard into his stomach, the blood that splattered behind him, the ghastly hands ripping at his body. Sirius staggers to his feet, wiping the fresh blood from his nose and mouth. He strides forward, steps growing more and more firm. Hadrian’s eyes snap to him as he draws closer, sharp and assessing, slowly breaking through as he did before but the man appears panicked, eyes rapidly moving between them, bloodshot and pained, still frozen almost completely. 

“Oh.” Sirius hums, mocking, his voice dripping with contempt. “Still just a weak link, hm?”

The words cut deep, and Sirius could feel the man’s fury like a physical thing, radiating in waves that pulse through the air. But it’s too late. The balance has shifted. The cobblestones beneath them shudder, a ripple of power spreading outward, and Hugin stirs, resetting like a pulled muscle slotting back into place. The man’s eyes widen, a flicker of realization flashing across his face.

Sirius grins, “I hope your daddy sees this before he destroys you. What is a ghost to the living but an inconvenience?” Sirius places his fingers to the man’s temple and feels the hard spark of sickly magic pressing back against him. It's not just one strand but two. “Oh, watching now, is he? You’ve failed, old man. You’ll fail again. And when I get my hands on you, it will pale in comparison to any le Fay’s rage you have experienced so far.”

Sirius steps away, lightly touching Hadrian’s forearm, and a ripple of magic slides over him. Hadrian blinks, slowly lowering his hand, his wand, and turns to Sirius, enraptured. He blurts out, “Shit. You got me hard.”

Sirius balks, cheeks warming. “Hades.”

“Ah, inside thought.” Hadrian mutters, sliding his wand into the holster under his sleeve. “In my defense, I can’t help it. You exist and suddenly I don’t know what to do with myself.” 

“You…” Sirius laughs. He doesn’t know what else to do in this situation. 

“He’s got that same shit inside him as the last.” Hadrian looks away, ears pink. 

Sirius snorts, amused, “His daddy is watching us, watching him.”

“He’s still alive.” Hadrian comments.  

Sirius frowns suddenly. That was true. Roshan barely lasted a conversation. “Oh.”

Hadrian doesn’t prompt him to continue, eyes flickering to the man before moving back to Sirius, eyes flashing in acknowledgment. Sirius supposes either the leader is curious or he can’t override Sirius in this instance. What was the difference between Roshan and now? Sirius had already accepted his bird yet they dally. I wonder, he thinks. Sirius doesn’t have their names but he does have their blood readily available right here. 

Sirius doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before. le Fay were blood mages for fuck’s sake. Aurelia didn’t need names either to obliterate her family’s existence from their minds but they couldn’t all be connected or inbred. So why was she able to? Memories would be useless with how this crew worked, how their leader works, but maybe he could hunt them down without a name. Maybe after this they wouldn’t feel so confident anymore. They did only send one person after all. 

But. This man was more skilled than Roshan, a bit older as well. Proving his worth, Sirius thinks. Ah, but his father isn’t forthcoming with the details if he has been watching every time. Sirius revealed to Roshan that he and Hugin were one yet this person trapped before him didn’t know that. Curious. Proving my worth, Sirius thinks suddenly. Assessing my weaknesses. It’s giving Walburga honestly. Sirius pulls a face at such an idea even if it kinda made sense. 

Hugin breathes inside him. Better, Sirius thinks, earning a coo. Sirius nods firmly, “Good.”

One of his pockets bulges slightly and Sirius feels the trace of a thick vial. You read my mind, Sirius hums, dismissing the man completely to turn to Hadrian. “The Aurors haven’t arrived.”

“I masked the occurrence,” Hadrian says plainly. “Wasn’t super interested in giving a statement today. Only Jay knows cause, well, he knows me. Everyone else thinks there’s a heated argument going on between a witch and her adulterous husband that led to a fist fight.”

Sirius blinks. How did he do that? Big Potter could be so scary sometimes. “But they sounded so panicked?”

Hadrian cocks an eyebrow, “The mistress was also with him.”

Sirius gasps, scandalized. “She confronted them in public?! Wow, how fucking brave. Well, I would’ve done the same, I guess. The fucking audacity. She must’ve been- ah, ahhh, this isn’t real.”

“You’re so cute yet so dumb.” Hadrian grins and wow, dimples, “Aurora & Vow.”

“Oh!” Sirius claps once. “Yes. What about-” He turns and startles, realizing the man is gone as are the many hands.

“I felt we entertained enough of him.” Hadrian hums, grasping Sirius’ hand and gently tugging him towards James. “You had a thought.”

“Somehow whoever is pulling the strings wasn’t able to do what he did before. At least, not as quickly seeing as I don’t know if dude was still alive before you shadow yeeted him.”

“He was.” Hadrian admits, tilting his head. “Ah, dead now. I think your assessment has merit since it happened almost immediately. Feels like he’s playing with you.”

“My thoughts as well.” Sirius says, tapping James’ shoulder when they reach him.

James pops up, looking around frantically until realizing they’re behind him. He gasps, spinning around, and tugs them both into a bruising hug. He sniffles. “Oh, man. Whatever the fuck just happened, don’t do it again.” 

“Yes, deer.” Sirius huffs, patting his back.

“Partial promises,” Hadrian responds, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Shit. Your deltoids feel fantastic, little brother.” 

James gasps. “Don’t they?! I’ve been following your arm days and wow.”

“Are you not big enough?” Sirius asks, amused. Though he supposes he benefits from these arms days on both accounts, perfect hugs, easily manhandled. A win.

James guffaws. “Uhm, no? Hug Hug is fucking huge when we’re in Candy Mountain. I want to squat him comfortably and lift him over my head.”

“Oh? You can’t already?” Hadrian asks, smug. “Must be weak genes.”

James’ face twists in outrage, offended. “We have the same genes!”

“Yet I can do these things already.” Hadrian says sweetly. 

James turns Sirius, aghast, wounded even. “Is this true?”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of this. This is the worst moment of my life.” Sirius chirps. Gah, having to navigate between two Potters is so stressful sometimes. “We have a ring to buy.”

James gasps, starry eyed. “A ring! We also have to pick up-”

Hadrian clamps a hand over his mouth, sending him a threatening smile. “Be silent.”

James gives him a double thumbs up, grinning underneath his palm. Sirius doesn’t know what’s happening but he is starting to realize that he is simply oblivious or possibly just not used to someone liking him so much. He can ascertain that whatever it is that needs to be picked up is for him. Sirius does his best to keep the stars out of his eyes but it is virtually impossible. He’s never been this spoiled in his life, at least, not by someone he was with. 

Sirius does dismiss the magic on their surroundings when they’re a decent distance away. He does hear the furious bickering now of a woman’s voice then another, the weak placating of a man. Sirius would like to see how it plays out but alas, not real. He does let go of Hadrian’s hand to link their arms together, leaning into him as they follow an excited deer. 

“How were you able to move?” Sirius asks. 

“I felt the shift before it happened. Wasn’t fast enough but I had already latched onto your shadow in case we had a monologuer on our hands, which we did.” Hadrian responds easily. “Converted my magic to your movement. I admit I was pissed but it was sloppy.”

“It was fucking scary.” Sirius shudders. “Like watching a bunch of weird spiders.”

“What a compliment.” Hadrian laughs. “You have homework now as do I.”

Sirius sulks. Oh maaaan. He understands this has merit but gah, gah. Aurora & Vow is blessedly not packed but there are still quite a few wixen in here, studying display cases or surrounding the odd crystal ball tucked in the corner. James flutters around happily, poking his head between couples until a case catches his eye. Hadrian releases Sirius just as James latches onto him and drags him away. Sirius does notice a set of skull earrings that he needs immediately but then his attention shifts and he snags James into a stop, startling him. Sirius tugs him towards a display case, sending a threatening look to a man hovering beside it. The man scatters. 

Sirius points aggressively at the rings inside. James gasps, delighted. There is a specific one that Sirius wants to mention but he knows when it comes to Lily that James will just be foolish and insufferable so he simply waits patiently until he catches James’ eyes drift towards it, look away, then snap back quickly. His mouth drops open, tugging out a sliver of parchment. There is a checklist of sorts written in Lily’s handwriting and some insufferable note that Sirius pointedly does not read because it's looking a bit sappy and he’s certain he’d get emotional. He does, however, fist pump. 

“God, I have fantastic taste.” Sirius sighs, flipping his hair. 

“You already noticed. That’s why you snagged me like some dog.” James says, accusatory.

“Yes.” Sirius responds bluntly. “I know you. I know her. Lily has stolen so many of my rings that I just acknowledge I’ll never get them back. I’m not pressed. They fit her personality.”

“Do… do you think she’d like this?” James whispers.

“If she doesn’t, I’d kill her.” Sirius nods, waving down an associate with a curt flick of his hand. He won’t but he will inconvenience her greatly. The witch manning this side of the shop hurries over quickly, so quickly she nearly falls and ignores several others wanting her attention, swallowing audibly when she takes in Sirius’ expression. He fixes his face quickly, smiling, and it is amusing to watch her deflate with relief. 

“You’re so scary sometimes,” James whispers loudly, turning to the associate. He points at the ring. “May we see this one please?” 

“Of course.” Her face brightens, and she seems relieved that Sirius will not be the person she is directly handling. He supposes he does mimic Orion in these instances but they had better things to do than wait around when they know what they want. The witch procures the ring for James with delicate, gloved fingers, slowly extending it towards them. It's incredibly beautiful with a heart cut diamond in the center, encircled by small emeralds set on a band of intertwined vines in platinum and gold. 

When James takes it between his fingers, the vines twist revealing more emeralds. Sirius whistles in appreciation as James gapes like a fool. Sirius reaches over to close his mouth. The witch claps happily and then begins to ramble. Sirius tunes her out because well, he has done his job of being the best, good boy. He does notice Hadrian with another associate, a wizard who is leaning against the display case with an expression that is certainly flirty. Hadrian appears unbothered as he always does, a bag linked around his wrist. 

“Pads,” James whispers, drawing his attention. He sounds suspicious. “She said it’s 6,000 galleons. Does that sound right?”

Sirius glances at the ring again. Certainly cheaper than he expected. His eyes narrow, also suspicious, “Why is it so cheap?”

The witch’s eyes go wide with surprise, “We’re currently running a special.” 

“Oh, that makes sense, Prongs.” Sirius hums.

“Right you are, Pads.” James nods, handing the ring back. “I’ll take it. If I could also get those obsidian skull earrings as well, that’d be great.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. Jesus, it's like she thinks we’re poor, Sirius thinks, amused, then gasps. “Are you finally getting your ears pierced?”

James laughs, startled. “No. I saw you looking.”

“You big sap.” Sirius nudges him.

James grins, dopey, handing over his card when the witch returns without bothering to hear the total. “Yup.”

A hand slides along Sirius’ lower back and Sirius shifts his weight to lean into it, delighted when the bag Hadrian was holding is dropped in his hands. His own package should be arriving tomorrow which is super great and he could not wait to see Big Potter’s raised eyebrows. It was almost like they were competing. Sirius does notice the forlorn expression on the wizard from before but he does a double take at Sirius then the stars in his eyes so alas, they are a handsome match to the weak. 

“What is it?” Sirius asks curiously, peering up at Hadrian. 

“A collar for that bird of ours amongst other things.”

Hugin’s head pops out with a gurgle, little taloned hands grasping the bag insistently. 

“Hey. Hey. When we get home,” Sirius hisses, embarrassed that his excitement has translated. Hugin sulks, retreating back inside him with a set of sniffles. The audacity! This was his own damn fault but hell. Hadrian snorts in amusement, peering curiously at James’ little bag when he takes it.

“Pads was right as he usually is.” James swoons, clutching the bag to his chest. 

“Sweet. We can tell maa to stop her fretting.” Hadrian sighs, relieved. “Her most recent delivery had fifteen rings. This woman.”

M-Most recent- wait, fifteen?! Sirius sways. “Oh. Oh wow.”

James nods solemnly. “Maa’s been obsessing.” 

“May we get coffee before we go home?” Sirius asks.

James beams. “Omg, yes.”

“Sirius le Fay. James Potter.” Hadrian sighs.

They look at him in unison with big eyes. “Please.”

Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, fine. No fucking Starbucks.”

James and Sirius high five.

Notes:

whoo whoo, sorry for the late update. I am tired! So tired! But hell, we fucking here. Don't think this translated as well from my brain to paper (text???) but yolo

Chapter 31: Back on 74

Summary:

Fruits of labor, a sequel perhaps

Notes:

TWs blood, violence, creepy imagery (maybe), blood magic, oops almost forgot self harm injuries (cut finger, sliced palm)

- Sirius mowing his way through a Lovegood
- Elias "Big Mouth" Warrington vs Sirius "No no no" le Fay
- Crowe's obsessive behavior
- Hades & Rod vs Siri
- Hugin is a good boy!
- Hadrian consistently charmed and entertained by his dog
- Crowe consistently entertained and obsessed by his kids
- Sirius "i dont need fancy things" le Fay vs Hadrian "nah this is ownership" Potter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius grins down at Barty, cracking his knuckles over his head, “Gotcha.”

“How the fuck did I agree to this?” Barty whines, sprawled out on his back. Both shoulders are dislocated and his legs have been rendered to goo. Sirius is very proud of himself. It was amazing what you could do with your own injuries when your mother was with the shits. After the Horizont Alley situation with his hasbien cousin, Sirius has been feeling fiendish. There was no other way to describe it. He’s never felt this more exhilarated in his life, never felt more powerful. Distantly, Sirius wishes Bellatrix was still around or… not soup so he could put her through the ground once more. 

“You tried it is how.” Sirius hums cheerfully, flicking his hand. “Did our romps around Hogwarts not teach you anything?”

There is a punishing noise and a snap and Barty sags heavily in relief. He manages a thumbs up, “Shit, you’ve gotten fuckin’ scary. Your control slipped towards the end.”

“You decked me. I was pissed,” Sirius sniffs, holding out a hand. 

Barty grabs it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. His knees buckle and he laughs, draping an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “You should fight Potter.”

Sirius pales, “I fight him enough. He’s so scary.” 

“Right?” Barty hisses. 

“You lasted three minutes longer than last time, Lovegood.” Elias says cheerfully from where he’s crouched near the door. He flicks his wand to the damaged wand, mending it together easily. “At the end, who were you?”

Sirius frowns, “What?”

“Your signature changed.” Elias pushes himself upright. 

It did? Sirius blinks, “Don’t really know. Hugs took over.”

Elias hums thoughtfully. “I’ve felt Hugin take over. That wasn’t that.”

“Did it feel… not good?” Sirius asks, a bit panicked, because what.  

Elias shakes his head, amused. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know. I agree with Lovegood. You should fight Potter. Seriously.”

Are we not serious already?! Sirius thinks, truly panicked now. He laughs nervously, “I think I’d rather fight Crowe again.”

Elias’ mouth falls open. He claps, “Wonderful suggestion! Both!”

“That’s not what I said!” Sirius shouts, scrambling after Elias when he spins happily out of the training room. He has to gently set Barty down, who looks ready for a nap, and it costs him greatly because when he does find Elias, it’s with fucking Crowe. Sirius manages to withhold a whimper, watching the fiendish excitement flutter across his boss’ face. Crowe grins, wide and sharp.

“Excellent suggestion, Warrington. We’ll make it a group affair.” Crowe says cheerfully, pressing two fingers to his adam’s apple. His voice rings through the Academy, “Brigade, please gather your minions and meet me in Training Room B. Thorncroft, you are welcome to stay with whatever poor creature you have in your care.” 

Sirius pales, “Publically?!” 

Crowe waves him off, so excited he’s trembling, “Might light a fire under their asses! Fuck, I haven’t fought alongside Potter in a hot second. I may start howling.”

Sirius may start fucking sobbing. He doesn’t know how he finds the strength to follow them but he does, like he’s dragging himself to the gallows. Sirius catches Leonard’s excited gaze among the tired faces filtering into the hallway. His brow furrows, questioning, and Sirius flicks his eyes to Crowe’s back then gestures at himself, then throws up the number two. Leonard immediately appears alarmed and Sirius nods, sulking. 

This is going to be embarrassing, Sirius thinks miserably. Hugin hisses in sharp offense inside him. Dumb. Sirius exhales. Right. Right. I fucking froze time, Sirius thinks furiously. He is not weak, he is more. It’ll just suck for a moment. A learning experience, Sirius nods to himself. He can distantly hear Crowe addressing their crowd as they continue to filter inside the training room. Sirius takes his place in the center of the room, clocking curious eyes sent his way.  

Dorcas looks heavily alarmed, which he feels in his entire soul. God, even Thorncroft is here with his goons. Hadrian is last, a few recruits trailing behind him looking worse for wear but passionate. Sirius supposes getting your ass handed to you is a good way to inspire self motivation. It certainly inspires him, as well as the heavy naps he usually takes afterwards. What a reward, Sirius thinks, watching Crowe beckon Hadrian over looking like an excited school boy. 

“Warrington has brought up a splendid idea to me.” Crowe chirps. 

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna hate this?” Hadrian responds dryly. His gaze drifts to where Sirius stands and he sighs. “Oh, I am going to hate this.” 

“What do you think?” Crowe presses. 

Hadrian sends Sirius a look, a question. Sirius shrugs, “Let’s do it, I guess. I’d like to remind everyone here that despite being grown, it is okay to cry as I likely will be doing this. Maybe throwing up as well.”

There are a few laughs but mostly nervous looks as Dorcas steps forward, tapping her wand against the air. A shimmer of blue slides across the room, separating the rest from them. Elias reinforces it with a wave of his hand and it becomes a specter of crystal.

“You’re sure?” Hadrian asks quietly. 

“As a heart attack.” Sirius responds, lips quirking. 

Hadrian’s eyes flash in recognition, the whisper of a smile on his face. Crowe bounces excitedly beside him. He claps his hands together, deafening magic spreading throughout the room, wand surging out from his palm. Hadrian shifts subtly beside him, wand already in hand, and Sirius inhales slowly, feeling Hugin shift with an excitement that begins to overtake him. Even if he loses, he will hold his own. Even a loss, here, with these two who have built him so much already, he would win. 

Be bold.

Be more. 

I am more, Sirius thinks, wand slipping into his hand. He curls his fingers around it, feels the subtle chips in bone, the grooves, and breathes. It's a testament to how long Hadrian has been under Crowe’s wing in how seamless they move together, almost like watching the Potters move, Marlene and Cas move, so fluid, together like connected limbs of the same body. Sirius knicks his index finger on the sharp edge of his wand and Hugin has a shield up as soon as Crowe fires a spell in their direction. 

They really have worked so hard if Sirius can notice Hadrian’s movements now, if he managed to lock their spells together rather than get his face broken in. Sirius couldn’t wait to see their progress in a year. Still so fast, Sirius thinks, amused. Alright Hugs, let’s make ‘em work for it. Hugin whistles an affirmative, slamming bodily into Crowe when he materializes before them. Crowe gasps in delight. The blood coating Sirius’ hand turns blistering hot, ground trembling beneath his feet with spark of lightning. 

Sirius doesn’t wait for Crowe to recover, wand cutting through the air with vicious precision, crimson tendrils of blood spreading from his bleeding finger and it snaps outwards like a viper. Crowe backflips out the way with a deranged laugh, twisting gracefully. Hugin shifts his focus, swallowing up Hadrian’s hex with a snarling yowl and spits it back in a swirl of red static. Hadrian deflects, shielding himself, and his magic slithers out of him. The room darkens, shadows pulling from the corners, but Sirius does pay attention to Big Potter’s messy behavior so it doesn’t take him as off guard as it had before.

With me, Sirius urges, slicing his palm open and the ground splits apart. Blood spills along the broken stone, shifting into spiked balls that collide with the rotten hands that skitter toward them. Sirius manages to knick Hadrian across the chest with a cutting curse. He watches the delight spread across his face, how it morphs into a strange elation when Sirius when his own blood is used against him. Sirius flicks his wand, lassoing the blood like a whip and slamming Hadrian into the wall behind him.

Crowe is already moving, a blur of brutal power, still laughing, low and wild and Hugin rears out, smacking into him once more. Sirius follows up behind his bird, a jelly hex causing Crowe’s legs to buckle beneath him. They crash to the floor in a meld of sticky magic and Sirius feels Crowe’s response, how gravity pulls sharply, forcing his legs to buckle. He grits his teeth, staggering sideways, and lifts his hand. Stop.

The room halts. Hugin pulsing around Crowe in a ghastly image of a dog, the shocked looks of those watching, everyone except for Hadrian. Slowly, unnervingly, Hadrian moves, eyes bright with feverish awe. His magic pulses against Sirius’ own, pushing through the freeze like a knife through silk, ghostly arms spilling through the cracks he’s carving. A rotted hand emerges, skittering across Hadrian’s chest, and he fucking moves. Oh shit, Sirius thinks wildly, managing a shield against the rapid fire of spells sent his way, and finds himself shrinking under the dark, oppressive crawl of dread that surrounds him.

His heart beats wildly in his chest. It… it vaguely feels like he’s back in Grimmauld again.

Sirius feels Hugin recoil, how he moves off Crowe completely in a wild, spark of fury, wings slamming into Hadrian’s spell. Crowe drags himself up slowly, an eerie smile stretched wide across his face, the tip of his wand sparking. He pushes, pushes hard, and Sirius feels like he’s a waving tide with how his insides shift and tug. The pressure in the room gets worse and worse and the barrier shatters entirely under the strain, jagged shards visibly crackling around them. 

They move as one, Hadrian’s wand snapping upwards, shadowy magic coiling like a serpent as it binds with Crowe’s energy, hurling towards Sirius faster than he can process. The collision is overwhelming, so brutal, and charged that Sirius is forced back so hard into the wall behind him that it shatters completely. He pants, staring in quiet awe at the bloodied, pulsing mess of a hand curled protectively around him. His palm drips, sparking electricity, and he sags for a moment. 

It's a terrible idea with how much pain he’s in. He grits his teeth, searing agony rippling through him as Hugin snaps hurriedly back inside, slotting his pelvic bone, his spine back in place. Sirius whistles low in relief, tears stinging his eyes. He breathes out hard, hands shaking in his lap, and slumps into the crumbling debris behind him. Sirius can distantly hear the heightened voices of those watching, the warning snarl that follows when he senses Crowe and Hadrian move closer. 

“Call off your bird, le Fay.” Crowe says cheerfully. “Fuck. Fuck. I am shaking!”

“Maybe you’re having a stroke,” Hadrian comments. He sounds smug.

“Of genius!” 

Was that a musical reference, Sirius thinks wildly. He forces his head up, feeling the drain on his magic like an oil spill, and tugs lightly to get Hugin’s attention. A raven’s eye appears in the center of the palm, looking him over quickly, panicked. Sirius waves a lazy hand, grinning, “Really worked us, huh? You can stop. We are done. I think we need a snack for being hot shit, boyo. A milkshake.”

Fuck, that’s two fights in two hours. Sirius will not be doing anything else but lying on a desk. Hugin chirps happily in agreement. The hand dissolves with a squelch, slithering into the wound on Sirius’ palm. Good, he asks, earning a pleased coo. Hadrian immediately stands over him like some hen, expression as equally concerned as their bird, “Talk to me."

“You both owe me a milkshake,” Sirius pouts. “A birthday cake milkshake. And fries. Truffle fries.” 

“Can do!” Crowe agrees, popping up beside Hadrian, still very manic and crazed. “Fuck, so excited! What did I tell you, le Fay? Scary shit! Getting you in my line of sight has been the second best decision of my life.”

“What was the first?” Sirius finds himself asking, taking the two offered hands. He shakes himself out once standing, a bit like a dog. Whew, what an exciting day.

“Getting Potter, of course.” Crowe grins. 

Hadrian shoots Crowe a withering look, healing Sirius’ hand and vanishing the blood with a flick of his fingers. “I’m telling your wife.”

Crowe pales, “Don’t do that. I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Then I better get a milkshake too.” Hadrian grins. 

Crowe scoffs, waving his hand dismissively, “Easy shit, Potter. White chocolate, lemon poppyseed, and extra whip.”

Ew, Sirius pulls a face. “Why do you eat like an old man?” 

“I am old,” Hadrian deadpans. 

Crowe makes an offended noise, “Then what am I?”

“Ancient.” Sirius and Hadrian say at the same time. They look at each other, gasping. “Jinx.” A unified frown, “Double jinx.”

Sirius throws up his hands and Hadrian laughs, ruffling his hair. His hand lingers. Sirius feels his cheeks warm, meeting that heavily pleased gaze. His heart flips. Crowe snickers.

“What is happening?” Elias’ voice rings out. 

Sirius points a threatening finger at him, “You owe me a soda, you mischievous, conniving bastard. My spine got broken again. If it was my face again, I’d square up right now.”

Elias concedes easily, grinning. There is a startled noise then a swell of chaos that may be questions, Sirius doesn’t really know but he does know his ears are ringing. Crowe claps once, pleased. Hushed silence follows. He simply says, “I hope this was as inspiring for you as it was for me. Never thought I’d have homework at my big age. Bug le Fay tomorrow. I have milkshakes to buy and a Tennison to cackle at while he cries when word gets back to him. If you got shake requests, snag me before I leave. Dismissed.”

Hadrian gently tugs Sirius away from Crowe right before he is accosted. Better him than me, Sirius thinks, paling when Dorcas is suddenly in his space, looking him up and down with a critical gaze. She grabs his face, turning him this way and that. 

Sirius laughs, pleased she continues to give a shit about him, “I’m fine.” 

“You are an idiot.” Dorcas hisses but appears relieved. She gives Hadrian a smug look, “We have done well.”

Hadrian nods, eyes feverish, “Haven’t we? Dream team.”

They high five, which is precious and unexpected. Sirius didn’t even knew they hugged until recently because neither of them seemed very tactile outside of their respective partners. Then again, Dorcas was a clingy drunk but that didn’t happen often. Elias neatly slides up to them, procuring a cream fucking soda. Sirius gasps, excited, and downs it as soon as he gets it open. Wow, he whimpers, simply so good. 

“Fuckin’ share.” Barty hisses, suddenly in Sirius’ space. He startles the shit out of him and Sirius has to grab his face to avoid decking him. Jesus! Sirius wishes he wasn’t so skittish because being this spooked unexpectedly can not be good for his general psyche. Personally, he blames Walburga. Barty blinks, slowly reaching for Sirius’ can, and Sirius glowers at him. Elias clears his throat delicately, supplying another cream soda. Sirius snatches it quickly, shoving the opened one in Barty’s chest, who gasps in outrage. 

“Siri, gimme the fresh one.”

“Fuck off, Artemis.” Sirius spits. “It is the least you can do. Don’t think I didn’t see you eat my chia pudding this morning!”

Barty laughs nervously, “It was so good.”

“I know! That’s why I made extra!” Sirius sniffles. He really wanted it for lunch but Hadrian would likely be shoving something down his throat and Barty needs to eat more despite eating so much in general. Juggling two spouses must burn off calories because wow, he is still so thin somehow . Sirius thinks he would die if he had two significant others. Hadrian wrings him out like a sponge. First world problems, Sirius thinks, realizing Barty is rambling, and lifts his hand.

“I didn’t hear a word you just said but I forgive you.” Sirius huffs, popping the top on his can. “We can share. I haven’t sucked dick today.”

Elias chokes. 

Barty nods solemnly, “Considerate. Evan used to get me with that shit. Don’t want cum flavored shit especially when I don’t know who it's coming from.”

“That’s fucking rude.” Sirius takes a long drink. Wow! Simply so good, he thinks wildly. 

“You two just feed off each other.” Elias comments. 

“Like shrimp.” Barty replies, taking the rest of Sirius’ drink with a reverent look. “Got us in trouble in school.”

“Had detention for three months together once. Every single day.” Sirius laughs. “Minnie was pissed.”

“I still don’t get how we got caught.” Barty scoffs. “Someone fuckin’ snitched.”

“That’s what I fucking said.” Sirius gasps. They toast one another.

“This makes me more excited for our mission next week.” Elias hums happily, peering over a thin, red mist before him. He makes a thoughtful noise. “So much more in tune now. I think the change in signature is for both of you. Did you have to direct him much?”

Sirius shakes his head, “Not really. We do share a brain so I feel Hugs has just gotten more confident now that he knows recognizes certain people that aren’t a threat. He doesn’t ask as often. I don’t have to fight with him.”

Elias waves away the mist, “It's fantastic. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Him’s a good boy,” Sirius nods.

“He’s fuckin’ scary.” Barty mutters.

Hugin feels incredibly smug by these words, which is just as well because Sirius does too. He is harassed breifly by a few recruits who linger but they are quickly scurried out by a threatening Hadrian Potter and Dorcas Meadowes. 

Sirius shoots his seniors a pair of finger guns, “Someone feed me since my lunch was stolen.” 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Hadrian sighs. “However, don’t tell Vance. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Dorcas gasps as does Elias, “Y-You finally made it again?!”

“Yup,” Hadrian nods. “Had extra time.” 

Barty whimpers, “Oh fuck yes. So fuckin’ glad I don’t leave until tomorrow.” 

Sirius blinks. While he is not surprised by these reactions, he is surprised by the stars in their eyes. He looks at Hadrian, “What did you make?”

“Dahi Bhalla.” Hadrian sniffs. 

“The street food?” Sirius gasps, excited. He hasn’t had it in so long!

Hadrian moves to answer then tilts his head and sighs heavily. The training room door smacks open and there is James Potter, wild eyed and frantic, “Did you eat it yet?! Please say no! I am here!”

Sirius laughs, “Oh, deer.”

"Better get to the break room before I change my mind." Hadrian says, cheerful yet it sounds like a threat. Watching James and the rest of them skitter out of the room like a group of gazelles running from a lion is possibly the funniest thing Sirius has experienced so far. Hadrian throws up a silencer spell, turning to him, "You did well."

Sirius puffs his chest, hands on his hips, "Duh. Have to ensure our investment brings the fruits. Fruits of labor."

"You've already proven that." Hadrian responds, flicking him on the forehead. "Wasn't expecting you to use me like a slingy toy, however."

"I have to keep you surprised, Hades." Sirius says sweetly. "Our bird likes you too much. He hesitates."

Hadrian's lips quirk, "Just our bird?"

Sirius sends him a speaking look, "Don't be fucking stupid. If you're looking for confirmation, here ya go. I like you too much. It's embarrassing because Hugin is insufferable now. And you keep buying me shit so everywhere I look is something from you- Wait. You're doing this on purpose!"

"Dumb yet so pretty." Hadrian grins, taking his hand. "I said I'd prove it."

Sirius flushes, "I'm not superficial."

"No," Hadrian agrees smoothly. "But you do need reminders that you are mine." 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh wow!

Sirius scoffs, embarrassed at how his heart rate amps up.

Hadrian's grin turns mean, "Gotcha."

"S-shut up!"

Notes:

eh heeeeeh so felt like we haven't had a fun duel in a while! so next chapter Siri meets Denise then he will be whisked off on a mission with Eli so we may not see much of Hades but he will be referenced as Sirius thinks about him all the time, giggling, kicking my feet

always felt like Sirius was a quick study and violence runs through his veins.

also mini update, I have decided on my ships (well, my dogs decided) as I will be doing both ideas I mentioned so one will be DeathHades x Siri, the other will be DeathxSiri. I've written like... ten chapters each so far? Well, twenty for one because I haven't decided if I want the Potters to be still alive, so one is literally labeled Potters Live while the other is Womp Womp lmao

Chapter 32: Wildflower

Summary:

A dog and a fox walk into a wolf's den.

Notes:

TW, implied sexual content, das it. POV TWs thoughts about revenge plot, jealousy, mentions of death, fucking around and finding out

- A stray attempts to reach out
- Umbra's bullying
- Oh, he's still bullying
- Siri's gutter mind vs Hugin's infatuation
- Professor Potter Propaganda
- Bark Bark Friends! Bark Bark
- a POV shift

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius is in the middle of thumbing through his wardrobe when Umbra makes an alarmed noise. He pokes his head out, startling at the sight of a familiar brown owl, Hope’s owl. There’s a letter in her talons, eyes peering nervously around which… felt fair given the furious glare Umbra is sending her way. Sirius staggers into his room, strangely nervous, thrown, because what the fuck. He hadn’t spoken to Hope since early summer yet her owl is here. She hadn’t reached out about his disownment or the news of his relationship with her son. 

Hope Lupin was an obsessive reader of the Prophet and heavily involved in Remus’ life. So she had to have known about everything that happened. Sirius doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know how to feel, but he bristles nonetheless, a spark of fury spreading through him. He catches a glimpse of the penmanship and swallows down a swell of vomit. His voice is surprisingly firm, “I don’t want anything from him. Take it back.”

Eilir seems so startled by his words, gesturing to the letter with a pleading, little look.

“Take it back.” Sirius hisses sharply, sharper than he intended.

Umbra decides he’s had enough, bodily shoving his head into Eilir’s chest with a snarling noise. Sirius does feel pity for how she is essentially bullied back onto his balcony but it does nothing to override the sudden influx of fury he feels in his chest. A sweet boy, Hope had said. A wonderful match for my son. What a crock of shit. Sirius knew her loyalty would go with Remus as it should, but leave him out of it. I don’t need either of them, Sirius thinks furiously, waving his hand and the balcony doors smack shut. He didn’t know what her plot was here or if Remus simply asked to use her owl and Sirius doesn’t care. He’ll need to adjust the wards. Gatsby grunts in approval, rolling onto his side. 

Sirius scrubs his face roughly, tossing these feelings aside and busy himself with his task. He barely had a fucking hour to get ready and he couldn’t decide on anything. There are so many clothes on his bed currently, Hugin deciding to lazily drape himself over Gastby’s back like a beached walrus as he watches Sirius bustle around. Umbra studies Sirius’ current outfit critically and gags. Jesus this bird, Sirius thinks, dutifully shedding out of his clothes. Though this was just an informal dinner, Hadrian was more put together than he was. A criminal offense if he’s honest, not to mention how Sirius had to control himself. In Sirius’ defense he loves silk and looking at Hadrian but the combination together just broke his brain completely. Sirius could stare at him every second of the day and die happily. 

Sirius snaps his fingers, “We could match.”

Umbra makes an excited noise. 

“Oh, I changed,” Hadrian says from behind him. 

Sirius jumps, spinning around then he is sidetracked. This turtleneck is doing things to his insides he didn’t expect. It also looks incredibly soft paired with a buttery open top, dress shirt. God, his chest is immaculate, Sirius thinks. Hugin decides to voice these opinions, kawing loud and excited like the insufferable bastard he is. Sirius slowly turns his head, glaring at his bird where he chatters happily much to Gatsby’s amusement. He hisses, “Be cool.”

Hugin sends him a speaking look, aghast, because Sirius was not much better on the inside. The audacity! 

“Hm, I have your vote of approval then.” Hadrian quips, amused.

Sirius flushes, “The last was also fine but I can work with this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing.” Hadrian cocks an eyebrow at him. His eyes do linger on Sirius’ bare thighs, his stomach before dragging slowly back up to his face. Whew, ok, Sirius thinks, swaying. Hugin wiggles excitedly out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Wait. I don’t have anything on.” Sirius blinks. He was practically naked!

Hadrian blinks. “A win for me. Just go as is.”

“Do you hear this man, Umbra?” Sirius asks, scandalized, earning a sound of agreement. He waves Hadrian towards the couch. “Go sit, Professor Potter.” 

If Sirius had Hadrian as a professor, he’d lose his fucking mind and figure out a way to make the entire situation about eating doves. His grades would be terrible but the benefits would outweigh all else . Oh, I’m sorry, Professor-Focus, Sirius thinks, but god, he’s distracted. Somewhere someone is envious of him living their dream of seeing Hadrian Potter as even more of a snack than he usually was. This was a dinner course- Stop, Sirius thinks wildly. 

“Shall I wear my glasses too?” Hadrian asks, taking a graceful seat. He sounds incredibly gleeful. How terrible.  

“No. That would be bad.” Sirius mutters, face hot. He’s only seen Hadrian in glasses a handful of times and while Sirius is not a religious man, muggle or otherwise, it was a religious experience. He ran into a wall! Twice! Hadrian snickers and Sirius flicks him off, striding back into his closet. He can hear Hugin skittering around, how he barks in that strange way of his, and Hadrian’s low coo then the quiet laugh that follows when Hugin, most likely, launches himself into Hadrian’s lap. This shouldn’t be endearing but it is. 

Sirius suspects he will get cold so settles on a turtleneck as well then pairs it with high waisted flared slacks. This was such a discovery. Marlene had such fantastic taste. He tucks his shirt in, critically eying himself, and Umbra tosses a belt at him. Excellent suggestion, Sirius thinks. His ass looks fan-fucking-tastic. He will have to buy Marlene lunch and those boots she’s been eying but hasn’t saved up enough for. Well, that’s why she has me, Sirius thinks furiously. Taking care of his family made him incredibly happy. He is aware that having money is a privilege and he doesn’t need to spend anything but he couldn’t quite figure out how to thank them for everything they’ve brought into his life.

Sirius decides that a ponytail is needed during these turbulent times and a jacket. He keeps his hair its usual color since he has a monochrome thing going on. Umbra nods, cooing in approval, and he makes a grand gesture at himself, nodding in agreement. Sirius rubs his hands together, keeping his fingers simple with his lordship and heirship ring but does wear the viper ring Hadrian had gotten him, then drapes his neck in the various necklaces that resemble shattered stars that Hadrian also bought for him. 

Sirius did have concerns about all these purchases, courting or not, but James had been just as insufferable recently as well as Marlene, who kept baking him things. Then Snape has been more vocal and concerned in his howlers when Sirius was being insufferable. There was a plot going on here. He just didn’t know what, especially because his birthday was in a few weeks. Maybe they just think about you, a voice whispers. Sirius huffs, embarrassed, that would be dumb. They were here and that was enough to keep him happy. 

“I feel so extra.” Sirius hums, peering at the mirror. “It is just dinner.” 

Umbra makes a disagreeing noise.

Sirius snaps his fingers. “You’re right. This is a precedent! I didn’t spend all that money just to show up looking fucking frumpy. Boss be damned! I am meeting his wife! I get to see their house!”

Umbra nods very seriously and really Sirius just had the strangest creatures in his life. Hadrian’s double take is appreciated and Sirius flips his ponytail with a scoff. Art, he thinks, smug. Gatsby whinnies, it sounds like a laugh, and Hadrian clicks his mouth shut. Sirius leers at him, moving over to kiss Gatsby’s large head goodbye, and opens the balcony for Umbra after wrapping his horse, wings and all, in a thick comforter. Gatsby settles with a pleased grumble. Umbra looks between the balcony and Gatsby’s nest then decides to bully his way inside. Sirius huffs and tucks them both in.

“We should sneak out before Effie sees us.” He whispers, snatching Hugin by the scruff when he tries to climb their man like a tree when Hadrian stands. Be cool, he thinks haphazardly. Hugin sulks, shifting into a strange mamba of some kind and slithers up Sirius’ arm to curl around his neck. Sirius strokes his head.

“Why?” Hadrian asks, amused, taking his hand gently. 

“Because if she tells me this outfit doesn’t work, I will cry and we will be late.” Sirius sniffs, allowing himself to be tugged out of his room.

“Would you like my opinion?” 

“Was the doubletake not enough?” Sirius asks sweetly.

Hadrian’s grin turns sly, “Not if you knew the visuals I’ve paired with it for later.”

Oh. 

Oh.

Wow!

Sirius didn’t know he could be so flustered in his life before stumbling into this relationship. It felt like a literary journey in a thriller novel or, perhaps, one of those dark romance books Euphemia loves. So many twists! Sirius glares weakly up at him, face on fire, and Hadrian winks, clearly smug.  

Sirius huffs, embarrassed, pleased? There are a lot of emotions he feels right now. He does poke his head in to check on his mother as they pass and, dreadfully, Euphemia is with her. Both of their gazes snap to him and gleam. Sirius pales. This is a punishment of his own making because he should’ve just left his mother’s portrait alone but he was experimenting and, unfortunately, successful. 

Ok, maybe not unfortunately, Isolde had so much more energy now that they could talk for hours and hours. Plus he thinks he may be able to bring her into Candy Mountain since they were linked by blood and magic. Sirius withheld these ideas from his mother because he just doesn’t think he’d be able to handle her disappointment if it didn’t work.

Still Sirius has regrets. 

“I made such a beautiful child.” Isolde squeals. 

“You certainly did.” Effie agrees severely, spotting Hadrian just behind him. Her gaze turns critical. “Let’s see you both.”

Hadrian stiffens, “Maa.”

“That was not a request,” Effie chirps, flicking her hand and the door swings open completely. 

Isolde appears faint, taking them both in. She sits, swaying in her seat. “Imagine the children, Mimi.”

“Your mouth to my mind and the heart of the Mother, Lottie.” Effie hisses. 

“Oh, this is terrible.” Sirius whispers, cowed. They have nicknames for each other and p-plotting?! Already?!

“It is.” Hadrian mutters, pointedly looking away. His ears are so red. “Maa, Madame le Fay, we are leaving.”

“We’re running away! Love you both! Bye!” Sirius agrees quickly, tugging Hadrian away.

The following laughter is disconcerting but warms a part of his soul. How curious. No, Sirius thinks, not very curious at all. Hadrian tugs him into his arms once they reach the archway at the end of the hall and they’re gone in a burst of shadow.

Sirius frowns deeply when they land. Why was this so much smoother? Something has changed, Sirius thinks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Hadrian, who is the picture of innocence. Sirius saves his reservations for later, knowing it likely has to do with a certain undead menace. He had skimmed through the book Isolde had given him and curiously, it was looking like Death is the reason they even had Hugin. Not a direct gift but a push in a certain direction. Sirius just didn’t know why le Fay was so favored. He couldn’t imagine any other house being so chummy with literal Death beyond the Peverells.

Hadrian sends him an amused look, lifting his hand to grab the massive door knocker. It's made from bone, deep carvings of a socketless wolf staring them down. Hadrian knocks it once and the wolf blinks, a singular, golden eye opening on its forehead. It slowly looks them over, then there is a click, and the front door swings heavily open. The drama, Sirius thinks happily, peering around curiously as they stride inside. 

The front of the house seemed deceptively plain, beyond the knocker, but the inside is a massive stretch of tasteful, minimalist decorum but there are signs of life everywhere, like on the walls with cute family photos, finger paintings, the toys strewn about. There is a clamor, possibly a shout, then Imani appears at the end of the entryway, smiling wide and bright as she charges down the hall at full speed. For a child, she is fucking fast. Oh shit, Sirius thinks, amused. 

“This girl,” Hadrian huffs, charmed, not letting go of Sirius’ hand even as he scoops Imani up easily. She laughs, eyes wide with glee and shock and positively crushes Hadrian into a hug. 

“Aries!”

“Hello, little imp.” Hadrian coos, rubbing her back. “Your grip is fantastic now. Soon you’ll be able to break my spine.”

Imani gasps, delighted, and fuck, she is so cute. “I have been practi-” She gasps again as if noticing Sirius. There are stars in her eyes and she sways in Hadrian’s arm, earning an amused look. “You are… Sirius?”

“Yep, that’s me.” Sirius grins, shaking her tiny hand when she thrusts it at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Imani brightens, “Yes! Ahh, I’m so happy you’re both here-” She cuts herself off, peering intently at Hugin, who stares back. Imani slowly extends a hand and Hugin shifts into a raven, kawing in greeting as he hops onto her fingers, puffing his little chest. Imani has hearts in her eyes, amazed. “This is… Hugin?”

“Yep.” Sirius responds, pleased.

“This is so exciting!” Imani wiggles excitedly. “Mommy is making sooo much food because daddy said your magic eats! That’s so crazy! Oh, oh, she said I couldn’t share my treehouse with daddy but I can show you what I’ve done with it! Daddy is jealous so he is sulking.”

“As he should,” Hadrian mutters.

“Hey! Keep my secrets, brat.” Crowe huffs, appearing at the end of the hall. He is clearly in his wife’s clothes again, wrapped up in a tight marigold blouse that's been tucked into a pair of little shorts. He must’ve decided to match with Imani because they are both in knee high bunny socks. It was sometimes impossible to see this man as an intimidating, murderous figure of the DMLE when you know he comes home to be in love with his wife and dote on his daughter. Sirius couldn’t wait for that to be him- Ahhh, stop it, he thinks, embarrassed. Hugin sends Sirius a smug look. Sirius glares at him. 

Imani leans towards Sirius to whisper conspiratorially, “He’s wearing marigold because it’s Aries favorite color and he misses him when he doesn’t see him for more than one hour. Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Ok.” Sirius whispers back. 

Crowe’s eyebrow twitches and Hadrian laughs, obviously pleased, cocking an eyebrow. “Careful, Captain. Sounds like you’re playing favorites.”

Imani gasps, “No, secret. Secret, Aries.”

“Oops,” Hadrian says cheerfully. 

“Alright, alright, little shit.” Crowe grins, beckoning them further into the house. “Is there a reason why my wife got several more owls this- Actually, on that topic, she stole my car keys. Wild. At my big age I finally, finally got a Porsche Panamera because of a certain Wraith’s meddlesome behavior and it's taken from me as if this is my fault.”

“It kinda is.” Sirius chirps. “Did you drive it yet?”

Crowe groans, wild eyed and thrilled, “Yes. Yes. She’s mad I let Imani hang out on the roof.”

“It was so fun!” Imani claps. “Daddy went so fast and there was all this smoke and-”

“My love, be silent.” Crowe says serenely. “Your mother has excellent hearing. Mom hearing if you will.”

“She does.” Denise’s stern voice comes from behind him. Crowe stiffens, turning to her slowly with a nervous laugh. Denise is much shorter than Sirius was expecting even after seeing pictures of her. The height difference is evident with Crowe a touch taller than Hadrian but Denise barely comes up to his chest. She sends Crowe a scathing look before turning a sweet smile towards them. Oh, Sirius thinks wildly. How scary! No wonder she gets on with Dorcas! Crowe sways happily beside her.

“Welcome to our home,” Denise waves a delicate hand. “You’ve met my rambunctious daughter and my idiot, wonderful husband but I am Denise. You must be Sirius.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sirius finds himself saying. “You have a lovely home.”

Crowe shoots him a subtle thumbs up. Denise’s eyebrow twitches, hands settling on her hips. “I do, don’t I? Curiously, some of the items are very new. Explain yourself now.”

Hadrian masks a laugh under a cough, earning a glare. 

Sirius blinks, “Oh. It's what my father would do for… first…meetings?” He frowns, “Is this not normal?”

Crowe appears crosseyed. “Orion Black gave gifts?”

“Of course. It would be rude not to.” Sirius sniffs. “He said long lasting, first impressions are what you can use to leverage good standing in interpersonal relationships. I bought the Potters a summer villa when I first visited them.”

“A what?” Denise sways. 

“That was you?” Hadrian’s head snaps to him.

Sirius blinks, “Yes?” He frowns deeper. “Do… you not… do that? The Malfoys did when we first met them and so did most of my father’s companions. Oh, maybe this is a dark house thing?”

“That’s a rich people thing.” Crowe barks out a laugh. “Guess we can’t give ‘em back?”

“I’d be so sad. Please don’t do that.” Sirius pouts. He worked so hard! Orion would say classy yet useful. Clothes were useful, books were useful, cars could be useful if you drove like Crowe does so Sirius truly didn’t think he overstepped but maybe he did. Sirius also really wanted Denise and Imani to like him because they were important to Crowe and by extension, Hadrian. How embarassing, he thinks miserably. Hadrian flicks him on the forehead, “Crowe’s joking.”

Denise appears alarmed by Sirius’ expression and bops Crowe upside the head, “You leave this boy alone. I have a jojo chaise now for the office. I will bargain your car in order to keep it.”

“Yes, dear.” Crowe sighs, smitten. “Whatever you want.”

“Did you check your trunk, little imp?” Hadrian bounces Imani gently as the Crowes begin to make heart eyes at each other. It's truly disgusting and sweet. 

Imani glances between them rapidly, “No. Should I?”

“Mhmmm. Sirius might’ve snuck a few things in there with my help.”

“Oh my god, let me down, please. Thank you so, so, so much, Siri! C’mon, Hugin!” Imani wiggles excitedly. Hadrian obeys and she scrambles away so quickly that Sirius blinks and she’s gone with his bird! Also, a nickname? So soon?! Sirius sways. Wow!

“Am I going to be bald?” Crowe asks severely. 

Am I, Sirius thinks wildly. He’s never seen Hugin so excited and clearly this would likely lead to foolery of some kind. Be good, Sirius hisses, earning a smug swell. This bird! He winces, remembering a certain book he bought, “Ehhhh?”

“Luckily my husband looks good in any hairstyle and I have seen him growing out a scalping. He’ll be fine,” Denise sniffs, dismissively. “Come.” 

“A what?” Sirius whispers, following.

“Mission gone wrong. Right? I don’t know. Crowe was laughing the entire time.” Hadrian sniffs, sliding his hand onto Sirius’ lower back. Sirius peers around as they walk and really this house is simply so pretty. It's not like he didn’t believe Crowe when he said his wife kept a cute house but to see it was another matter. It was an interesting weave of magic and muggle things so homey like Lucan’s manor without the giant monstrosities their family had murdered. Sirius did end up bringing a copy of Aurelia slaying the bandersnatch to his grandfather and the man wept, which was terrible. But apparently he didn’t have many pictures of his late wife in her youth. Sirius was happy to provide even if it was terrifying to see a man of his status cry. His grandfather could be so strange sometimes. 

The Crowe’s dining room is incredibly pretty and Sirius keeps getting distracted by decorations that line the walls. There’s a set of etched nooks that frame the wide patio doors, filled with figurines and crystals and various trinkets. Denise watches him flutter around with a pleased expression. Definitely deserved and he will have to steal some ideas for the manor. 

“Is this crystal?” Sirius asks, awed, studying the large casing of various gemstones that have been meticulously arranged like the strokes of a rainbow. It’s incredible.

“Glass, unfortunately, but I tweaked it a bit.” Denise sighs happily. 

Holy shit. Sirius didn’t know you could get glass like this. 

“Touch it.” Crowe whispers, waving Hadrian over to him with a fiendish look. He wraps Hadrian in a tight hug, swinging him around like they’re not both giants.

Wait. Touch it? Sirius looks at Crowe, alarmed. Was this man trying to get him hexed?! 

Denise laughs, “Go ahead. Touch it.” 

Sirius gingerly touches the surface, watching in awe as it ripples subtly. The gemstones inside tremble before shifting in color like a domino effect and settle into a dark, velvety color. Sirius can’t really tell what this gem is because it keeps changing from fiery reds and oranges to vivid greens and blues. He shifts his weight and it changes again, then back, and oh, this is black opal, Sirius thinks. He’s never seen one before outside of a textbook.

“Oh, how curious.” Denise hums, moving to stand beside him. “Suppose it makes sense from what I know of you from my husband and the Prophet but I try not to listen to gossip. A shifting in color could be because of your identity, how much you’ve had to change for what you’ve endured then there’s the emotional complexities that tie into that. Protection, intuition, and transformation. Yet, Hadrian’s was an alexandrite. Duality, resilience, steady yet unpredictable. It’s an interesting balance.”

“Is that bad?” Sirius asks. 

Denise shakes her head. “Not at all. I think you may be just what he needs.” She gives him a soft smile, “I admit I was very surprised when Roderick told me Aries was interested in anyone at all. As long as I’ve known him it's just been family, work, family, work. I had never met such a severe person despite how young he is. We literally threw a party the first time Rod managed to get him to laugh.”

Sirius blinks. This matched up more with Sirius’ previous, limited knowledge of Hadrian Potter. Hadrian had opened up so much in the last few months, which was great, but it did make Sirius a bit curious as to why he was like this to begin with. He couldn’t imagine Fleamont or Euphemia being very stern with him when they certainly weren’t with James but out of all of them, Hadrian was the most reserved. Sirius wonders if this has anything to do with whatever person Hadrian dated previously. 

“I’m glad he laughs now. It would be a criminal-” Sirius cuts off, holding his hand up when Hugin comes caroling into the dining room as… something with Imani bouncing behind him . He glares at him weakly, “You are wilding out today. We are guests. Be a bird.”

Hugin makes a miserable noise but obeys, sulking as he presses into Sirius’ neck. Sirius rubs his head with a sigh, embarrassed, “Sorry. We’re excited to be here as you can tell.”

Denise laughs, startled, “This must be Hugin.” 

Imani crashes into her mother’s waist, still bouncing, “Mommy! He was a lion! Then a giraffe! A-And a wolf but he was sooo big and-”

“Breathe, my love.” Denise chuckles. “I’d love to see this wolf.”

Hugin perks up, kawing happily. He does send Sirius a questioning glance and Sirius makes a grand gesture, amused. Hugin springs off him, shifting gracefully into a hulking form. Sirius wonders if they need to work on animal transformations because Hugin could really only do a raven seamlessly. The body structure is a bit off but the muscular, lean narrow chest is present but the legs are too long and the snout has a snout within the snout set with rows upon rows of teeth. Hugin barks and Crowe startles badly behind them, setting Hadrian off with a quiet laugh. 

“What the fuck is that?” Crowe whispers heatedly.

“Isn’t he cute?” Hadrian sighs, charmed. Crowe makes a startled noise.

Denise seems smitten, taking that monstrous face in her hands and rubs furiously, “Aww, baby, he’s a little cub. A puppy!” 

Sirius gasps, delighted. He supposes running around with werewolves would do that to a person although Moony was certainly not as frightening as this concoction Hugin has whipped up, “Hear that, you big banana? Puppy. And you thought it was just me and Hades. High five!”

A feathered hand bursts out of Hugin’s back so they can, indeed, high five. 

“Wait! Me too!” Imani demands hotly. 

 

-

That same day, 11:46 am; Cottage

Regulus is curled into a tight ball beside him, fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt yet Remus watches the horizon almost desperately. He feels the moon’s call like a herald of the end, desperate for the minute relief that will follow. His mother bustles quietly downstairs, back and forth, back and forth; the slow creak of his father’s rocking chair. She promised Remus she wouldn’t reach out to Sirius even though her expression screamed her worry, her panic. How much she struggled with the end of their relationship despite what happened in fifth year unlike his father who spit good riddance.

Then Hope met Regulus and Remus could see she was trying to find pieces of Sirius in his brother, could see that Regulus saw it as well with how he’d tuck himself smaller and smaller as they spent more and more time in her presence. It had sparked many fights between them, between him and his mother because it didn’t make any sense and why, why, why would you do this, Remus. Then Regulus’ announcement as Lord Black made news, then Sirius’ announcement as Lord le Fay swept it all aside and her face had cleared with a devastated understanding and she had looked at Remus so strangely, like she didn’t know him at all, even as his father urged her to mind her business.

Remus shifts when he notices Eilir making her way towards his window. His heart squeezes in his chest when he sees a letter with her. Even if it was filled with Sirius’ anger, it was better than his silence. A quiet sigh escapes Regulus’ lips. Remus feels his mouth twist. He had thought so much about these last few months, about Sirius, about seeing Sirius with someone that wasn’t him. Remus never cared for James’ older brother, how he looked down on him, on Peter, like they were the scum of the earth whenever they showed up at Potter Manor and he happened to be home. Polite yet curt, permissive yet Remus could tell Hadrian wanted nothing more than to rid them from his brother’s sight.

He had barely seen Sirius interact with Hadrian before but Sirius had always been so fond of the Potters, typically already present before they arrived and laughing with James’ mother in one of the sitting rooms or draped over Fleamont Potter’s shoulder as they watched James whiz around in the backyard until James demanded Sirius join him. How Sirius fretted over what to get them for Christmas, for Samhain, for birthdays and anniversaries. So invested in this family as if he had always been there. 

But the way he and Hadrian fit together at the Ministry burnt Remus up to degrees he couldn’t fathom. Sirius seemed so pleased, so soft when for the longest there had only been two people he looked at in such a way, James and him. How loud Moony had wailed inside him at the sight, how it felt like every moon since Sirius’ disownment was its own punishment as it carved deeper and deeper and deeper. His pain felt unfathomable at times. Remus loved Sirius even when it hurt, loved him more when it didn’t but the look on Sirius’ face as he stood in his apartment, his wand pointed at Remus, that throbbing, tangible hurt had felt incredible, like a win because yes, feel as I fucking felt.

Then… it wasn’t such a victory anymore.

Remus didn’t know Regulus would go so far, didn’t know he held the rope to the guillotine Regulus had tied around his brother’s neck. There had been such a chasm between them and Remus knows he’s been feeding it. How long he resolved to be second best to James Potter in Sirius’ eyes but that was okay, they were friends, brothers. Hadrian had been an unexpected variable yet he hadn’t changed with how he looked down at him, still so dismissive and unbothered like Remus was nothing, but oh, how he looked at Sirius like he was everything.

It made Remus furious. Sirius’ arm in Hadrian’s when he saw them outside the club, how Hadrian stopped them from reaching Sirius, body coiled tight and every ounce of a threat, how happy Sirius was to see Hadrian at the Ministry, his eyes bright and sparkling like they used to for him, how Hadrian Potter laughed and laughed and laughed at his pleading letter to speak to Sirius, how nearly every Prophet article with Sirius was with Hadrian, how Hadrian got between them once more as Sirius slipped into the elevator like Remus intended to rip that very joy out of his face and smash it between his hands.

Wouldn’t you though?

Remus didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Didn’t you, a voice hisses in his mind. Remus swallows hard, tears pricking his eyes. He doesn’t know why he listened to Regulus but fuck, he was so hurt by what Sirius had done and- No, Sirius deserved every ounce of his response. He could’ve killed Snape, branded as a monster, and put down like a filthy animal and… Regulus just felt so different but the more time they spent together after everything happened, the more Remus could see the cracks in his cool demeanor. He still couldn’t figure out what happened to them that day when he collapsed, when Remus felt a break inside him that seemed like it shattered his being. It was growing harder to be apart and Remus didn’t understand why.  

Then all subsequent hell seemed to break loose. The Blacks were wasting to nothing, so many of that family dying and rotting or already dead like the mother Regulus had to bury alone. Remus had caught him lingering outside Sirius’ old bedroom minutes before the wake and pretended he didn’t see when Regulus managed to come back downstairs, eyes red rimmed and bleeding through the blank mask he wore.

Peter was dead as well. Remus had thought he’d see James and Sirius, at least, for Peter’s funeral but only Mary came from their original friend group, not even Frank came or Alice, and Remus held her as she wept and wept until it seemed like more than just mourning, as if pouring out all the grief this entire situation brought about.

Eilir makes a low, sad chirp as she settles on his open window. The letter in her talons is his own, returned once more, and Remus wants to sob like a child. He’s made his bed. You’ve made yours. Accept it, Hadrian’s voice rings in his ear with such finality. Remus grits his teeth, taking the letter, and balls it up tight in his hands as a trembling noise escapes his lips. He had really lost everything, his pack, his mate, his life for what? A long plot. Why was this the hill he had to die on? Why was he alone when Sirius got everything without him? Why does he get to move on when he also crossed the same lines he did? 

Tears splatter on his clenched fist. He swallows a whimper. 

Moons, you better not be in bed cause I have food! - I made cawl but I had to call your ma cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing - If I was a worm and you were a worm, we could be one body. - Anything you want, Moony. - Why wouldn’t I come? You called me! - I didn’t know which coffee you’d want so I got six, ah shit, dropped one, you got five choices now. Sirius’ voice spins and spins in his head like a catastrophe, like scratched playing of a record. He doesn’t even know when he last heard him laugh. Remus chokes on a sob, silencing himself when Regulus makes a sleepy noise. 

Ok. Sorry for the mess. I’m going to go. 

Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, Remus thinks desperately, face crumpling with a devastating agony he feels in his very soul.

Notes:

eh heh? Almost didn't do the POV shift but gah, why not. I'll admit it did make me emotional. I've never cheated on anyone but I have been cheated on a lot and recently, I was cheated on again lmao. So I guess this fic has just been cathartic to me.

I did delete a comment asking for me to... cut Re & Re a break. I don't like to delete comments or monitor in general but idk it just struck me in such a way that I wanted it fucking gone lmao. I've already said cheating is a hard stop for me.

Morally and realistically, I couldn't fucking do it anyway. This shit sucks. This shit hurts. My therapist is making BANK right now.

 

anyway
next chapter we get to see a gopey monster :3c I've started rewatching the Alien movies (all of them... i will not take criticism lmao) and The Thing (prequel and sequel) and I feel it shows. makes me giddy heehee

Chapter 33: Saisei

Summary:

Resident dog tags along a mission

Notes:

TWs, violence, blood, scary (maybe) imagery, gross shit, possibly gore, mutated bodies, blood magic, possession, implied cannibalism, death, selfdefense moiduh (murder, is it murder if they're lowkey already dead), reanimated corpses, spoopy things, cursed objects, implied black magic, sentient cursed objects

- Sirius' growing irritation with The Ministry
- Sirius "this is a pit" le Fay vs Elias "certainly kinder than my thoughts" Warrington
- Its giving World War Z
- Hugin vs Sirius
- Hugin will spend the rest of his days pissed
- Sirius Canonical Tendencies to be a Dumbass ™
- Sirius Canonical Tendencies to be a Dumbass ™
(this is twice and also for good reason)
- return of Limbs Ballet ™
- Elias "I am a grown man" vs mentions of Hadrian's murdery temper, Elias "I am a baby"
- Hadrian's murdery temper lmao

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

There is a small, isolated village in the Scottish Islands that has gone silent. The last communication received was from a terrified woman who spoke of shadows moving in the dark, how the villagers were wrong and devouring each other. This apparently wasn’t very high up on the Ministry’s to do list until no additional letters or patroni were sent. Sirius had looked over the initial reports with Hadrian’s face pressed into his neck but it proved to be a frustrating read each time. He hates politics, doesn’t understand why just cause is needed in some of these moments, how it grew to such extremes that it would completely bypass the Aurors and land straight in Crowe’s or Vanessa’s lap. 

Elias had suspicions, many in fact, and even supplied Sirius with a journal his grandfather had written. My grandfather was a collector, Elias had told him. Not a fighter. In 1920, there was a town in Bulgaria that was wiped off the face of the planet. All that remained was a crater as if the ground opened up and sucked it into hell. Elias’ grandfather mentioned having found a reliquary in the shape of a golden hand. He didn’t know what was inside, didn’t know who brought it there, just that it had fed off the townspeople before they disappeared, and the reliquary had gone with it. Elias’ grandfather was never found either, his last entry urging his son and their family not to look for him as it was too late. 

Sirius started to realize that this wasn’t a rescue. It was containment. Possibly eradication but the main priority was to destroy the artifact before it could move on once more.

He hated that it had come this far.

Maybe Sirius was just too young to understand but that felt like a cop out. He supposes this is just what he does now, is expected to do. Elias had mentioned he could go alone if Sirius didn’t feel ready but Sirius wasn’t about to let Eli walk into whatever shit show awaited them by himself. A fucking shit show it was already and they’ve barely been here for ten minutes.

The village is desolate, eerily silent with signs of frantic abandonment dripping over torn shutters, clothes strewn about from spilled suitcases. Cracked cobblestones stretch before them, smeared with dried blood, doors hanging precariously off their hinges, and the windows are either smashed or boarded up from the inside. Elias is stiff beside him, eyes flickering around, wand in hand. They haven’t seen anyone, which made almost no sense. The current population was 5763 so where the fuck was everyone? 

Sirius has been on edge since they arrived, the air sticky and filled with an oppressive, heavy magic that felt nothing like how Hadrian’s felt. It was worse. It was alive. There’s a migraine building in his temple and Hugin keeps pacing inside him like an animal snared in a trap. It was unnerving. Elias nods towards the center square, moving forward. Sirius covers his back, glancing at the quiet houses as they pass. The buildings turn strange and weird as they move deeper into the village. 

Sirius can taste iron in the air, sharp and heady. He swears he can hear fucking whispers, indecipherable but still they rag on his mind like nails on a chalkboard. Someone stumbles out of an alley, clutching a wedges of dripping meat to their chest. Their head snaps up unnaturally fast, eyes hollow and glowing with a sickly green tinge. Sirius realizes its a severed arm they’re carrying. An inhuman screech spills from her lips and it shakes him to his very core. 

The village comes alive, more screeches and snarls filling the air and Elias presses hard into his back, “It is the same thing.”

“The villagers?” Sirius swallows, wand slipping into his hand.

“Gone.” Elias answers quietly. “There is no living here if my suspicions are correct. The reliquary has been activated. If we can restrain, we should but… I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t know if it can be fixed at this point for them. We need to move fast.”

How fucking shitty, Sirius thinks, firing off a hex when the woman staggers forward. Her body explodes into a dark mist that startles him. It was like she was never there to begin with how she dissolves like a cloud but the mist remains, stagnant, thoughtful, before it swirls towards him. Sirius sends spell after spell to no avail. Elias spins around him, wand shifting into a metal ball and the mist reacts violently, trying to split off before its sucked inside. He urges, “Don’t let it touch you.”

Sirius doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to do that when there are more and more bodies rushing towards them. He slices his palm open, spilling blood along the cobblestone and it bursts upward as a wave of stone, bodies crashing into it. Elias takes a moment to study the metal ball, eyes flashing in recognition, and he’s grasping Sirius’ arm tightly. There is a thump then another and Sirius glances back as they run to see people spilling over the top, throbbing together like ants.

“It's hard to pinpoint.” Elias hisses, peering around frantically. “This place is drenched.”

“I’ll buy you time.” Sirius says.

Elias’ gaze snaps to him, alarmed, “Siri-”

“Hey. I’m not some weak bitch, alright?” Sirius grins, twirling his wand. “Focus. I got your back.”

Elias appears torn but, finally, nods, likely clocking they do not have time to bicker. Sirius turns from him, spreading his hands. His blood coagulates and spreads through the air, sparking erratically. With me, he thinks, and Hugin snaps forward like an electric cloud, slamming into the cobblestone, and it surges. Sirius wonders if they could be saved, if they stopped this… whatever it is, but he doesn’t hold much hope. He flicks his wand, shifting the beads of blood into a dripping net, and it snags to Hugin’s flank as he slams into the thrall of bodies.

Sirius feels their hands on him, reaching deeper than his skin, his bones, prodding and terrible. Oh, he thinks wildly, feeling a tendril brush along his very soul. The net catches blue fire, screams filling the air, smoke billowing overhead like a shape. Sirius yanks Hugin back sharply, stumbling as the heavy weight slams into him. He blinks rapidly, bristling with a terrible rage he doesn’t understand. His brain feels like its splitting apart, Hugin snarling and snapping violently in his arms. A mask slams over his head, a hand curling around his arm, and Sirius is jerked bodily away from the growing shadow moving towards them. 

Hugin yowls, rearing on him with murderous, feral eyes, hands spilling out of his scruff like a nightmare and he’s slammed hard into the ground, ripped out of Elias’ grip. Hey, hey, Sirius urges panickedly, come back. Come back to me. He can vaguely hear Elias’ voice, choking at the furious hands circling his neck, Hugin baring down with a snarling mouth. Ok, ok, think, Sirius breathes, latching onto his magic and drags Hugin back inside him. He dry heaves. His body feels wrong, struggling to contain Hugin slamming and slamming and slamming inside him like a catastrophe. Elias has him up in seconds, bodily throwing Sirius over his shoulder as he takes off. 

Sirius struggles with the onslaught of emotion roiling inside him, gritting his teeth as he grasps Elias’ robes tightly. He shakes his head, trying to push away this heavy demand, and whispers roar in his mind like a siren’s song. Images flash across his eyes, a golden hand pointing two fingers to the sky, carnage upon carnage and blood and god, it's fucking terrible. There were so many villages beyond this one, towns, settlements, bodies upon bodies that all demand to be freed. 

Elias seals them into a chapel of sorts, transfiguring the windows and door into a slab of heavy stone. He pants behind his mask, eyes wild and panicked. Sirius slumps heavily to the floor, gagging. His vision shutters, Elias contorting before him into a monster then back to his physical self when he staggers away. Sirius shakes his head and the room spins. He breathes raggedly, locking tight around Hugin as he tries to surge out of him. Hugin wails and it rattles him completely. 

“D-Don’t move.” Elias’ voice is trembling. “It gets worse with proximity.” 

“It touched Hugin.” Sirius breathes. “It won’t stop.”

“We haven’t been here long enough for permanent melding. Hugin should figure it out. He’s good like that.” Elias assures him quickly, stumbling between strangely stacked pews and Sirius sees it, the golden hand. It's then he notices the walls, covered in blackened vines, the sickly aura surrounding the altar. 

Elias whispers, “It is you.”

When he touches it with his wand, Sirius’ mind spasms then slams to a sharp halt once more as Hugin snaps inside him, bristling in offense. He feels like himself now but is apologetic and devastated. Don’t be dumb, Sirius breathes, pushing himself upright. He can hear hands beating on the chapel, debris sprinkling from the ceiling under the weight of their demands. Elias steps away, eyes hardened with hatred and resolve and he begins to break down the enchantments. The chapel trembles badly in response, vines pulsing like veins as it spills mist into the room. 

Stay close to me, Sirius thinks, we’re back up. Hugin whistles in response. Sirius gathers himself remarkably, even if his hand trembles around his wand. The back of the chapel rips open with a thunderous crash, the wooden beams groaning like the spine of a dying beast. From the shadows spills a grotesque amalgamation; a single, towering mass that twitches and writhes with unnatural life. Faces press against its warped flesh, their expressions locked in agony or blank ecstasy. Limbs dangle haphazardly, some clawing at the air, others fused grotesquely into the pulsating body like branches twisted into a gnarled tree.

The thing moves with a sickening lurch, dragging itself forward on tendrils of flesh that leave trails of ichor in their wake. Its surface ripples as though alive, mouths forming and unforming, whispering incoherent prayers that blend into a discordant hymn. Eyes, dozens of them, roll wildly, blinking in mismatched rhythms. Some are human, filled with fear; others are inhuman, black pits that seem to drink in the light.

Sirius’ breath catches as he sees fragments of who they once were, the glint of a wedding ring fused into a bloated finger, a patch of tartan cloth clinging to what might have been a shoulder. The villagers hadn’t just been affected by whatever this thing was; they had been consumed, their essence torn apart and refashioned into this abomination. They have become fodder for the reliquary.

It looms forward, movements deliberate and predatory, the guttural hum of its disparate voices growing louder, merging into a chant that claws at Sirius’ mind. He feels Hugin bristle inside him, his fury a sharp pulse of energy. But beneath that, even Hugin cannot shake the sickening dread that seeps into Sirius’ being.

Sirius moves as it does, summoning a shield to encase Elias with a flick of his wand right as a meaty hand slams down. It bounces, limbs breaking apart and falling to the ground with garish thuds under the pushback. Elias sends Sirius a panicked look but Sirius waves him off. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do with the golden hand so Elias needs to focus. Sirius cracks his knuckles, steeling himself, and struggles against the onslaught of fear that spreads through him when those eyes shift to him. Of us, Hugin hisses angrily, startling Sirius at how furious he feels.  

Sirius breathes, steadying his grip, “Right.” 

His hand still trembles but he presses his palm to the tip of his wand, feeling the sharp sting of a cut. Blood wells up, hot and sticky, and he smears it along his wand, drawing a familiar rune into his skin. He forces himself to breathe. His mother’s son. The air grows heavy, sharp with a pulse of terrifying roar as the thing charges towards him. Sirius drags his wand across the floor in wide, deliberate arcs, and his palm burns, carving deep into his skin. Light surges after Sirius’ movements, stone burning like a fiery brand as it mimics the sigil on his palm. 

The creature notices, head twisting, voices of the damned rising into an incoherent roar but its movements don’t stop, limbs clawing desperately at the ward’s edge. It recoils terribly as the ward responds violently, slamming it back inside the circle. 

“Stay right where you are, fucking bastard,” Sirius snarls, sweat beading along his brow as he pushes more magic into the ward. The rune pulses in time with his pounding heartbeat, Hugin stirring inside him with murderous intent and the ward glows hot, bubbling from white to murky red. Elias is moving frantically from inside the shield, that golden hand glowing menacingly, then his expression cracks open with understanding. The hand pulses and Sirius feels his mind scramble, feels his hold tremble, and Hugin rears sharply inside him, furious and biting and the creature wails, slamming into the ward. Sirius’ body shakes in response, each impact sending a searing pain through him. Well, we are connected, he thinks delusionally.

“It's tied to the creature,” Elias shouts, voice tight. “We have to do it together. It's linked.”

“We can’t save them?” Sirius asks, panicked. 

Elias’ expression cracks, “I’m sorry, Sirius. What’s left isn’t them.” 

Sirius grits his teeth, “Fucking.. Fine. Let’s gooo!” 

The creature screams, voices layered in a chorus of agony and rage. It throws itself against the ward with reckless abandon, malformed hands blistering and peeling where they scramble. Sirius staggers, every nerve alight with the strain. Hugin does his best to filter the pain evenly but fucking fuck, he feels like his head is about to explode. His knees buckle, blood loss makes his vision swim, and Elias takes a deep breath, raising his wand, and their eyes meet. 

“Confringo.” Elias says.

“Morbus Crux.” Sirius closes his bloodied hand.

The golden hand obliterates with a guttural howl right as Hugin pulses wildly out of the tip of his wand, blocking the creature from view in a meld of bloodied, tarred feathers. Sirius pours everything into the ward, a shrill noise escaping his lips. The sigil flares beneath Hugin’s massive body, erupting in a blaze of maroon light. The creature within howls in tandem, thrashing desperately inside the ward as it implodes. Then it cuts off in a sudden silence, Hugin compressing inwards with a sickening finality. 

Sirius drops hard to his knees, panting as he stares absently at the ruined, bloody ground, breathing in relief when Hugin returns completely. The blood beads up before slowly slithering back towards him and he hisses softly at the lingering burn. Elias stumbles forward, gathering Sirius in his arms, and lifts him easily. “Sit for a second.”

“Ok.” Sirius slurs, slumping into the pew he’s pressed into. His vision blurs, “Oh man. I dun feel good.”

“Drink.” Elias urges, pushing a potion into Sirius’ chest. “It’ll make it faster.” 

“Yessir,” Sirius obeys. God, that taste is fucking awful. He grimaces, tossing the vial away. “Oh, that’s fucking sick.”

“You are clearly altogether.” Elias sighs heavily. He smacks Sirius upside the head. “You stupid idiot! Never have I experienced such goddamn stress from a recruit. You are just like your fucking grandmother! I didn’t believe my da but clearly his warnings had merit!”

“But we won!” Sirius grins, accepting the smack upside the head once more. He pales, “Don’t tell Hadrian.”

“Don’t.. Don’t tell him?! Do you want me to die?!” Elias asks wildly, also paling. “Are you insane?!”

“Well, no, but he’s going to be so mean to me.” Sirius whines, pushing himself up. 

“As he should! Fucking idiot!”

Sirius sulks and continues to sulk when a follow up team from the Ministry arrives. They do find a few feral stragglers but their sanity appears broken completely. Elias turns over the shattered pieces of the golden hand to an Unspeakable, who Sirius supposes he knew personally with how they start bickering like an old married couple. The village itself is marked as uninhabitable and sealed off behind a dissolutionment charm for further research or whatever. Sirius doesn’t know, barely listened, just watched the few remaining villagers be carted off by healers. He will say that this felt less shitty than his support mission with the kids but still a shit result. 

Though Sirius was excited to see Hadrian when they returned before his man left to hunt some strange manner of terrible people. He has to take his aggressive sniffs and face plants in Hadrian’s chest while he can. Crowe is particularly fiendish when they arrive, looking them both over like some kind of mother, and nods in satisfaction at what he finds. Sirius is a bit upset that Hadrian isn’t in the briefing room but hell, he did have a job. Maybe I could make him a house husband, he thinks. Ah, but then he’d be bored. Oh, but he could wear an apron every day! Sirius nods solemnly. Yes, wonderful idea. Crowe bops Sirius upside the head. 

“What did I do?” Sirius pouts. 

Crowe sends him a speaking look, “I know you, little Wraith. Warrington seems unusually stressed.”

“I am.” Elias sniffs. “You’ll see why in our reports.”

Sirius sighs heavily. “So it wasn’t my best idea but what else could I do against the lead performer of limbs ballet? It made Hadrian look kittenish.”

Crowe blinks, glancing at Elias, “Really?”

Elias grimaces, “It was… not good. The energy was the same but, uhm, perhaps, bigger?”

Crowe’s eyebrows shoot up, “Holy shit. Why didn’t you call for back up? Not like I had shit going on currently with all you bastards stealin’ my work, bein’ useful and shit.”

Elias sends Sirius a withering look, “We didn’t need it because of this fool. However, it is destroyed now. There are others.”

Crowe frowns deeply, thoughtful, “More artifacts or more places affected?”

“Places affected. I didn’t have much time to process all of it but I suspect four other towns, villages, and one city were also taken.” Elias states plainly. “Once it was destroyed, those fragments disappeared. Additionally, how the artifact worked would’ve made our mission a possible failure with how it reacted to us in close proximity of each other after you come in contact with its strand.”

“It sent my bird after me.” Sirius nods solemnly. He doesn’t even notice Crowe’s slow smile or his darkening glee. “But I got all the blood I spilt back! Which was great because I admit I thought I was gonna pass out. If anything, Eli should happy that I was essentially glorified bait so he was able to-”

“Come again?” Hadrian asks slowly from behind them. Crowe snickers.

Elias stiffens badly as does Sirius. They exchange a look. Elias is sweating nervously, which in any other situation would be hilarious considering he was older than Hadrian. Silas did say that the Brigade deferred to Hadrian if Crowe wasn’t present but seeing it in real time was a bit unexpected.

“Hm?” Hadrian prompts, slotting neatly between them. His head tilts slowly to Elias then turns that murderous gaze onto Sirius. An eyebrow twitches dangerously.

Sirius’ face goes hot. He manages, “Eh heh?”

Elias makes a pitiful noise.

Notes:

gahd this was so FUN to write XD SO why didn't siri use a timefreeze because he's dumb and panicked and tbh would make a boring chapter imo. Limbs ballet propaganda!

I saw all your comments and I will respond... tomorrow. I'm lowkey sneaking this chapter because I am in a work meeting :zoom eyes: can't stop the grind, can't stop, won't stop, wah waaaah

I think next chapter we meet... an ex? Notably not Sirius', take that how you will. I'd say I feel sorry for her but I don't lmao then I believe... another date or maybe plot things, idk I am really raw doggin this rn forgive me.

Chapter 34: Custer Cluster

Summary:

A le Fay's ownership.

Notes:

TWs, manipulative behavior, implied potential baby trapping, sprinkle of implied racism, hmm truly think that's it; POV tw discussions of death, golden child syndrome, revenge plot nonsense, jealousy

- Amycus "get this man off my back" Carrow vs Sirius "this is so funny" le Fay
- A raven sees a crow
- Hadrian exists, Sirius bark bark bark
- A Yaxley offset pissing of a le Fay
- Hugin is Siri's ride or die, surprising no one
- Marlene Jane & Sirius Altair, united in food, united in lavender marriage
- Sirius "i like you" le Fay vs Hadrian "embarrassed" Potter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“All I’m saying, Sirius, is to consider it.” Amycus scoffs, sending a heated look to a witch trying to move past them. She gives him an ugly look before darting out one of the several additional doors available. Sirius huffs, amused, because truly Amycus could be so bitchy sometimes. If anything, they were blocking an exit because his cousin decided to accost him like he planned on accosting Marlene for pancakes since his pancake buddy is currently off murdering or whatever scary shit Hadrian does. Sirius hopes he comes home today because he missed him. 

“Didn’t Lucan say the opposite?” Sirius asks, amused. He certainly remembers his grandfather’s heated, pleading glare when Fleamont had mentioned a curious request from Lucius Malfoy of all fucks to join whatever boy’s club Monty had somehow started in their home. A bunch of gossips, Sirius thinks, amused. All they did was keekee in the basement parlor and eat snacks that Sirius provided like the ever gracious host. How this became his job, he has no idea, but Gideon apparently came down with a sandwich Sirius had made for him and that’s all she wrote as they say.

Amycus pulls a face, “Consider for me. This man has been up my ass like I’m somehow involved.”

“Are you not, cousin?” Sirius asks sweetly. “I seem to recall you and Daddy Nott getting into over the clafoutis I had made. While we are on this topic, aren’t you allergic also to cherries?”

Amycus’ cheeks pinken, “That’s besides the point, cousin. I am requesting as my future head of house to put me out of my goddamn misery or you could put Malfoy down instead.”

Sirius sighs, heavy, dramatic, and waves a dismissive hand, “It’s inconsequential considering Lucius Malfoy knows he’d never step foot or feather into my fucking house. I’ll make you a deal, cousin. You tell Yaxley to have his wife send him over with another batch of those goddamn danishes and I’ll tell Malfoy to fuck off.”

Amycus thrusts his hand at him, wild eyed, “You’ve got a fucking deal.” 

“Perfect.” Sirius smirks, shaking his hand. “If you don’t keep your end of the bargain, I’ll send my bird after you and, possibly, Umbra as well.”

Amycus pales comically, “I’ll owl him right now. Immediately.” 

Sirius watches him scurry out the door like some fiend. Lucius must really be bugging Amycus if his cousin came all the way to the Ministry to sniff him out rather than wait for when Sirius usually drops by on Friday evenings. Sirius moves away from the door with a cheerful whistle that slowly dies in his throat when he sees Regulus slowly rounding one of the fountains and in turn, Regulus sees him as well. Hugin rears sharply, pulsing in vibrant hunger. No need, Sirius thinks, feeling his bird retreat with a quiet hiss. 

Reg-Black looks miserable where he stands, like the same pouty little child that waddled after him when they were young. But the longer Sirius stares, the more he finds he can’t feel anything at all beyond his steady heart beat, doesn’t care about the furious hurt in his former brother’s gaze or his bitter hatred. Sirius moves forward, unbothered, and Black’s face shutters but he gathers himself remarkably, striding past him in confident steps, and Sirius doesn’t watch him go, immediately distracted by Marlene sweeping out of the elevator with a mad look as she quickly shrugs out of her internship robes. 

Her face cracks open with the most stunning smile when she notices him. His heart squeezes in his chest. Sirius had his family, his choices, and perhaps he mourned that it no longer included Black but he harbors no regret if it meant he could have those who chose to keep him despite all his mistakes, his imperfections, his anger. Sirius opens his arms with a laugh, delighted when Marlene just throws herself into him. She feels a bit lighter and Sirius must correct that. Marlene was already too thin. How is she supposed to have all these babies she wants if she’s too thin!

“You need to eat more.” 

Marlene gasps, smacking his shoulder, “You sound like fucking Cas. I know. I am just stressed.”

“What happened now?” Sirius asks, amused. 

“Ugh, my fucking colleague. Bendelton. The short one.” Marlene scoffs, linking their arms. “He is truly the worst fucking-”

Marlene turns sharply, startling him, and he shifts in turn easily. His eye catches Hadrian, looking fine as fuck in his uniform and the furred robes Sirius got for him because he was going Serbia, wherever the fuck that was, but Sirius finds himself frowning, confused, watching the tick of annoyance that settles in Hadrian’s face as he listens to the woman speaking to him. His distance couldn’t be considered anything but polite with how he angles away from her.

Sirius can’t make out much but that forehead and upturned nose is very specific. A Yaxley but not from Lord Yaxley since he only had sons, he thinks, feeling Marlene stiffen against him, a sneer marring her features as she guides them through the growing crowd. While Sirius doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, he does find himself irritated that he didn’t get to see Hadrian sooner because of some woman. 

“Do we know this person?” Sirius asks. He has terrible trouble remembering names that weren’t people he cared about. It was a miracle he remembered Leonard’s name but he also saw him frequently and Jenkins was slowly getting up there on the list of people he cares about. Hadrian doesn’t seem to notice them, which is odd, but he’s growing more and more frustrated the longer he stands there. Sirius straightens, alarmed, and Hugin stews quietly in wait.

“Barely.” Marlene sniffs. “She used to be friends with Cas. Two years older than her, Slytherin, so I doubt you ever met her.”

“Must’ve been a big fight if Cas stopped entertaining.” Sirius mutters. Dorcas was incredibly forgiving, which made no sense with how quick she was to shut down tomfoolery and nonsense. 

“Cassie should’ve been a Puff with how she clings to her loyalties but Hadrian was hers first and if anyone deserves such things, it's Hadrian.” Marlene scoffs. “Kiara came after and that was only because she wanted Hadrian. Felt Cas was her way in. Naturally, it all fizzled out when she was discovered to be a roaring bitch and a racist.”

Oh, shit, this is the ex, Sirius thinks, pleased when Hadrian’s eyes flicker up to them, looks away, then snaps back just as fast. His expression softens. Whew, Sirius thinks happily. Kiara Yaxley turns, seemingly annoyed that his attention has shifted. She’s a bit plain by Sirius’ standards but her hair is an incredible shade of brunette that does please some vapid part of him. Her expression hardens completely when she notices Marlene. Well, that won’t fucking do, Sirius thinks cheerfully. Hugin swells in ugly agreement.

“Mind your eyes before I pluck them out.” Sirius hums, slotting right into Hadrian’s space, who has not looked away from him. Sirius dismisses Kiara entirely, watching the tension slowly leave his man’s body, “We’re getting brunch. Since you’re here and all, you should give me something to look at.”

“Aside from me.” Marlene flips her hair.

“Aside from Marlene,” Hadrian agrees, amused. “Brunch? It’s nearly 3.”

“A second breakfast, if you will.” Marlene says and Sirius nods in agreement. “I can snatch Cassie up by her hair and then we can make it double.”

Hadrian laughs softly, “From where?”

“We are having a conversation.” Kiara interjects, annoyed at being dismissed. 

Her hands curl into fists at her sides, eyes roving over Marlene, dismissive and quick before focusing on Sirius. Sirius gives her a derisive once over then grins, sharp. Kiara swallows minutely. Ah, so she is aware of who I am, he thinks, tilting his head and slides an arm around Hadrian’s waist and she clocks the gesture with a tight look, “Are you? Looked a bit one sided. Besides Brunch is very important and certainly more important than this conversation.”

Hadrian snorts above him.

“Pancakes are certainly more important than this conversation.” Marlene sighs happily. Sirius nods solemnly.

Kiara’s lips curl into a sneer, eyes narrowing as she surveys them both with thinly veiled disdain. Her gaze flickers back to Hadrian. “How quaint that you continue to surround yourself with such fascinating company, Hadrian. A McKinnon and a Black, formally disowned by his own family. Oh, apologies. The last of a wretched-”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Hadrian’s voice drops to an icy warning. Kiara bristles in outrage.

Ex-fucking-cuse me, Sirius thinks. Marlene grasps his arm tightly, her words steady, “Charming as ever, Kiara. Has your mommy figured out how to cure her rotting soul yet or are you still their finest experiment? It's a wonder how you manage to think so highly of yourself when not even Deus deigns to speak with you now that he’s been named heir. Haven’t found another bastard to try and baby trap?”

What? Sirius feels his palms spark as the words settle.

“Still sticking that beak of yours into business that doesn’t belong to you, I see.” Kiara spits, glaring at her. 

Oh, that won’t do. Sirius has heard enough. While he is a big fan of watching Marlene McKinnon handle herself and her business, this continued conversation and information has ground on his last nerve. Sirius laughs, “You must’ve not heard me. Mind. Your. Eyes. It's bad enough that you're in my man’s face like you have every right to be with the bullshit you pulled. You insult Marlene in my presence again and I will turn you inside fucking out.”

Kiara’s expression twists with scandalized shock, “This is the company you keep-”

“Why exactly are you still here?” Hadrian interrupts smoothly, sliding a hand along Sirius’ lower back. “We don’t have anything to talk about. You said what you needed to say. I’ve entertained this enough as a courtesy to your late father. You’re starting to piss me off.”

“A… A courtesy?” Kiara snaps, cheeks reddening as her composure cracks. “Is that all I was-”

“Regardless of before, you aren’t anything to me now.” Hadrian responds, firm, unyielding. “What is it you said? Be miserable with that pitiful, useless family of mine? I plan to. I don’t want your apology. I don’t need your apology. As I said, we have nothing to talk about.” 

What?

Kiara’s face flushes deeper, and her fists clench at her sides as she blusters, “Yes, I said it. I stand by it! You can be so much more. Your family is nothing but an irrelevant relic, Hadrian. Not to mention the house your mother-”

“Fuck off.” Sirius bristles because what. The Potters? Pitiful? Useless? What a crock of shit! He pushes forward with a delibarate slowness that causes Kiara to falter. “Let’s talk about relevance when the closest thing to relevance is Deus Yaxley’s family of fifteen when his heirship was announced and you were nowhere to be seen. Let’s talk about relevance when I, a former Black, hadn’t even known you existed until today. None of you blistering sidequests ever stepped foot in Black Manor when those same fifteen Yaxleys arrived. Guess the only thing daddy left behind was the sack of fucking failure standing before me.” 

He shoves hard into her space. “You think you can waltz in here and insult my fucking people? To my goddamn face? Absolutely not. If anything you should be on your fucking knees in thanks that Euphemia Potter nee Rudrapatha was kind enough to allow you to rot naturally instead of in the ground as I know she wanted to do as soon as she found out what you did and how you continue to insult her fucking son and her family . You look at Marlene again, you look at Hadrian again, and I will render you to the last miserable atom that makes up that busted spine of yours . Funniest thing is Lord Yaxley would not save you if it meant a le Fay left the rest of his family alone. After all, his daddy married one before she died so he seems to have the common sense you lack. I have your name, Kiara Yaxley. I don’t need anything fucking else. I don’t need anyone’s goddamn permission to. Put. You. In. The. Ground . Do you get me?”

Kiara stares at him, face ashen as her jaw trembles. Her eyes dart between Sirius and Hadrian, who stands behind him, silent, unmoving. Sirius can only imagine the expression Hadrian is making with how her face shutters. Her gaze drags quickly back to Sirius, swallowing hard, and it shutters once more when Hugin pushes out with a snarl, a feathered hand shoving her back hard. 

“Ah, there was your warning. Try me if you want to.” Sirius states cheerfully. “I will say I’m not the type you want to fuck around and find out with. Hadrian may be a proper, courteous fuck but yours truly is not. I’m sure the crumbling House of Black has shown you that.”

Kiara’s mouth trembles, eyes watering. She staggers back, clutching her robes with shaking hands as she spins on her heels and storms off, heels clicking furiously in her haste. Sirius watches her go, struggling against the onslaught of fury that radiates through him. The fucking audacity. He doesn’t understand how she even got on Hadrian’s radar but James did say she was nice until she wasn’t. A manipulative bitch, Sirius thinks, furious. 

Marlene whistles cheerfully, “Wowza. I haven’t seen this level of sass in a hot second. I will have to note it in my diary. Dear Janet, Human Janet here. My doting husband said he’d go to war for me and Hadrian. You know the one, Janet. My beautiful wife’s handsome husband. As I lay here, in the satin robes said doting husband bought me, I am kicking my feet. Alas, I giggle as well.” 

Sirius manages a laugh, turning to them, and catches the quiet gratitude in Hadrian’s face, the dark satisfaction, and whew, what a look. Sirius nearly fans himself. Hadrian’s lip quirk, “Guess we can get pancakes now.”

Sirius gasps, delighted. “Yes! Pancakes!”

“Pancakes!” Marlene hisses furiously. “I will get Cas. You stay right here in case Aries tries to change his mind.”

“Why would I do that?” Hadrian asks, amused, opening his arm for Sirius to place himself under, which he does because how could he not? The perfect spot and Sirius has missed sleeping in the crook of Hadrian’s neck with Gatsby on his other side. It just didn’t hit when one of them was missing. Sirius is starting to think he’s become a sap of some kind. That was ok to, he thinks, looping an arm around Hadrian’s waist.

“We must be thorough.” Sirius chirps.

“We must be thorough.” Marlene says at the same time.

They gasp, pointing fingers at one another, and Hadrian chuckles, “Go before I do change my mind. I do have a report to turn in.”

Marlene scrambles, dipping through hurried wixen with a precision Sirius has seen her use to get through students at Hogwarts. It was a miracle she hadn’t faceplanted at this point. Sirius blinks up at Hadrian, squeezing his waist. “You have terrible taste but I can’t talk.”

“You really can’t.” Hadrian snorts. “Didn’t expect her to show up here but I guess she got tired of seeing my face with you in the Prophet.”

Sirius scoffs, “We are a handsome couple. I should send her a bouquet. Lace it with blood magic, use her hair to make dolls, and turn her ribcage into a cauldron.”

Hadrian sends him an amused look, “Funny. I considered doing the same to Lupin.”

“Ugh. He managed to sneak a letter to me through Hope,” Sirius raspberries. “Didn’t think to block her but corrected this now. To be thorough, I blocked his dad too.”

Hadrian stiffens, “Did he now?”

Sirius peers up at him, watching how his jaw clenches subtly, the quiet flash of fury. “There’s nothing he can say to me. You know that right?”

Hadrian meets his gaze evenly. There is a spark of uncertainty, doubt, that Sirius doesn’t like as he searches his face. He wishes he would’ve spotted them earlier because Kiara must’ve said some drivel of bullshit before they intervened. Sirius squeezes his waist, “She’s a cunt. Whatever bullshit she tried to say is irrelevant. She truly can’t talk. What other lord of a former light-aligning house can say they shot the shit with Orion Black than Monty? If Britain wasn’t so fucking backward, I can only imagine how many dark houses would want Effie for her house. Plus your family has always been enough for the people that matter, for me.”

“I know that,” Hadrian scoffs but his ears are pink.

“Do you?” Sirius presses. “I feel like we’re even right now. I chewed out your dumbass ex lady and I’m sure you ripped Lupin a new one the last time we saw him. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hadrian levels him a withering glare, “Yes, I fucking did.”

Aww, cute, Sirius thinks happily. “Bit funny that when he finally met you in, what, 4th year? He said we likely wouldn’t get along. You and I.”

“Clearly not his first dumb ass opinion,” Hadrian comments dryly. “Perhaps he got tired of seeing you in the Prophet as well and that’s why he reached out. Skeeter has been obsessed.”

“Rita Skeeter is obsessed with you.” Sirius laughs. “She does get good angles though. I asked her to send me copies in exchange for not blowing up her miserable apartment for the slanderous shit she tried to pull. She agreed, of course, because not even her boss could stop me if I got my hands on her.”

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches, “She does that. Surprised your lordship announcement was so pleasant.”

“Right.” Sirius gasps. “Monty is going to give me a Wizengamot run down with Lucan and… I think Yaxley, the legit one, is coming over and Ogden. There may be more people. I think Monty has created a boy’s club. Men’s club? Get together? I don’t know. They’re over so frequently now.”

“It's a gossip column. All they do is be messy.” Hadrian laughs, sending a threatening look to someone who draws too close. The woman scatters. Pot meet kettle, Sirius thinks.

“So it is a gossip column. I always knew Fleamont was a messy bitch,” He sniffs. “Never thought I’d see the day when Daddy Greengrass would be laughing in our parlor over something as ridiculous as tea kettles with Gideon fucking Prewett. Crazy. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.”

“Or Lestrange having heavy opinions about onion jam and getting into it with Madame Longbottom.” Hadrian sniffs, straightening when he notices Dorcas being dragged out of an elevator by Marlene. “Let’s not forget Malfoy demanding he be invited as well. Can’t believe I had to watch Lucan Carrow plead with you on his knees to not consider it.”

“Pépé fucking hates Lucius. Says he’s worse than his daddy. Amycus asked me to handle him so I guess I will.” Sirius quips, cheerful, and happily waves them over. “Lucius is so fucking weird. I’d never have him in my house. I know shorts aren’t, like, a pureblood thing but he was, like, obsessed with my knees the last time I saw him.”

Hadrian hums, “Don’t tell me that. I’ll have to put him in the ground.”

Sirius frowns, “I don’t think it's like that.”

Hadrian’s gaze is thunderous, “I saw how he looked at you with all the fanfare that happened after your announcement with Goyle. My statement stands. I will obliterate him.”

Whew! Sirius sways, “He’s not my type. My ideal type is tall, dark, and scary. Simply perfect. It gets no better than that. I’ll never be able to find a replacement so it's best we stay together or I’ll lose my mind.”

“Feel like I’m the darkest person you’ve- Wait? What? I- Ah.” Hadrian blushes deeply. He glares at him, pissy, and appears aggrieved for having to experience such a reaction. Sirius’ heart skips a beat. C-Cute! Hugin swirls in heavy agreement with a satisfied coo.

“Is Hadrian Shani Potter fucking blushing? Fully? With his whole, handsome face?” Marlene hisses, pushing into Hadrian’s chest with a feverish look. She studies him furiously as his face turns darker red. “God! He is!”

“He is.” Sirius grins widely. Marlene spins towards him, delighted. They high five. 

“It is a stunning shade on you, Aries.” Dorcas says serenely.

Hadrian balks in outrage and turns away, entire face a rich scarlet. He sounds murderous, “Enough.”

-

While Sirius le Fay had not look back, Regulus Black had, watched McKinnon throw herself into his brother’s arms as if they were still walking the halls of Hogwarts, Sirius laughing the entire time. No, Regulus thinks, turning away, not his anything. As it had been for so long, at least, from his side. Finding favor in their parent’s eyes felt impossible because for all their disapproval, their upturned noses, Sirius was their golden child, his father’s heir, his mother’s first child even if she shed no blood to have him.

Regulus knows jealousy is unbecoming, a useless emotion, but still he nurtured it, allowed it to build and grow inside him at every turn. The sliver of fondness that would cross Orion’s face even as he ripped into Sirius when he was being foolish, how in the same breath Walburga would berate Regulus but let Sirius get away with so much, too much. Then Sirius ran away after a splendid fight like some washed up coward and left him behind as he did in all aspects of his life. A Black in Gryffindor, a Black amongst blood traitors and muggleborns, a Black so chummy with those beneath them, a Black befriending a halfblood, a werewolf of all fucking things, a Black speaking too familiarly with a Potter. Their mother had been enraged when she found out but as usual, his father had silenced her when she reached a fever pitch.

Let him be. Power is useful no matter the source, Walburga. You’d do well to remember that.

No matter the source indeed. Regulus had considered Orion’s precarious, strange relationship with Fleamont Potter to be so peculiar, then this same Potter had the weight of the lights, had the weight of Peverell backing him up and of course, this man was in Sirius’ corner as their father was.

But if Orion wasn’t on Regulus’ side, Walburga was, but he realized shortly after he cut Sirius officially out of their lives that this was a ploy, a facade as it always had been. How much his mother had screamed at him for giving her what she always wanted, how she begged, on her knees, to bring Sirius back. He would have return to us, she had wailed. You’ve ruined everything! Regulus had not expected Sirius to become Lord le Fay, fully expected the disownment to break Sirius apart as he had broken their family. But even in death, Orion Black had his secrets, his favorite.

How often Regulus listened to his father laugh with Sirius as he hid in the hall, how much time they spent together, how much Sirius didn’t appreciate any of it. Ah, Regulus thinks, absently descending the steps of the Ministry. Perhaps he did. It had been an unexpected revelation that Sirius knew their father had passed for how he didn’t deign to speak to any of them after Regulus cast him aside in the halls of Hogwarts until Remus roped him back in as they had planned. Kreacher had been unusually tight lipped towards the last year of Orion’s life. Regulus suspects he knows why now. Not even Remus had known. 

Perhaps because they were both angry with Sirius, perhaps, unexpectedly, Regulus was hurt by Sirius leaving him behind. He should’ve stayed with them. He should’ve stayed with him. How much Sirius claimed to love him while in the same breath running after James Potter, laughing with James Potter, leaving him for James Potter. Their father hadn’t even protested, still having all the power of Lord Black under his thumb despite being bedridden; just waved his hand and said let him go. Why? Why? Why was that fair? Then his father, finally, finally gave in to allowing Regulus to be his heir towards the end but why? He held out for years even as his wife demanded he reconsider but he also knew Sirius wasn’t just a Black. A le Fay.

Regulus didn’t know when Orion Black’s loyalty to their house had waned. 

His last words to Regulus made so much more sense now in hindsight, Your intentions won’t reach him, Regulus. Consider what darkness you unleash if you continue down the path you’re on. You know his temper as well as I do.

His father did not know his plans but Regulus’ feelings towards Sirius could never be hidden from him. It was too coincidental how things played out; Pettigrew, Remus, himself, his family. Narcissa demanded to see him almost immediately after Walburga collapsed. Her suspicions matched his own. She had begged and pleaded with him until Regulus dismissed her completely. It was beneath them to beg. His stance had been made. Sirius’ stance had been made. 

Regulus knew that Sirius was behind all this grief, still so stubborn in his attempts to not realize the pain he had caused and still, he continues to cause more. Now he looks through Regulus as he always did, moves forward without him as he always had. Regulus had one moment of weakness when his mother passed, nearly broke down to send Sirius an owl and ask him to stand beside him in this moment. He didn’t want Remus there but still the fool came and still Regulus wanted it to be Sirius. What foolish thoughts. What foolish feelings. 

Oh, how the tides changed.

A Black does not regret. 

A Black does not kneel. 

So neither will he.

Notes:

heehee. Lowkey feel like Hadrian is one of those I don't hit girls types (which faaaaair) but Sirius is not, he will throw hands at anyone.

I have this like personal HC, for this fic at least, that even if Regulus was the ideal Black son yadda yadda that he was still in his brother's shadow. I'll be real, feel like I went easier in his POV in comparison to Remus but I just think Reg would be too prideful vs Remus' woe is me shit.

I think I have mentioned before that I have a love/hate relationship with both of these characters but I do love complicated relationships. Alas, I will not be bashing either in the next two fics but shit will still be complicated lmao

To conclude, just a teensy spoiler that Orion's loyalty to the HoB began to spoil after Isolde passed and he was almost immediately forced into a marriage with Walburga huehue. I feel like my end notes are so long, my b. I had a request for another Hadrian POV so y'all will get that... in like.. four chapters? maybe sooner? Idk, raw doggin from my phone (i'm at a dog sports event lmao)

Chapter 35: Baby Hotline

Summary:

Plots, plots, more plots

Notes:

Tws, implied parental sacrifice, discussions of child...moiduh, think that's it, it's pretty tame if im honest

- popping in with my smart! sirius propaganda
- siri's lightbulb has bursts
- Isolde "that bitch" le fay
- Euphemia "slay and slay" potter
- Hugin being a little, sleepy baby
- A Dungeon Bat comes to retrieve his dog

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius feels as if he’s truly come into his own. He hasn’t felt such stability in so long as it often felt like beating after beating for the last few years. His father wasting in his bed, the awful “prank” on Severus Snape, Sirius running away from Grimmauld, Alphard dying, navigating Regulus ignoring him, Remus ignoring him, the hesitant reunion, his father dying, his disownment, finding out everything about Isolde.

The Potters had been the only stabilizing thing in his life throughout all of this, even when James wasn’t talking to him as he deserved for what he did to Remus, to Snape, the way Marlene would say certain things reeked of James Potter. Always looking out for him even when it wasn’t direct. But now, now, Sirius finally felt as if his feet were properly settled on the ground. 

Euphemia had been a wonderful person to pingpong ideas off of, as was Hadrian, as was Isolde. He did promise he wouldn’t do anything unnecessarily stupid when it came to the cult or whatever hunting him down for his bird, that he would plot accordingly, and it felt like he was on a cusp of a breakthrough. Their blood was almost similar to his own but it felt rotten, like something else was going on beneath the surface. 

“I think they have a strand. Well, I think, the leader does.” Sirius says aloud, glancing up from his notes.

“Elaborate,” Euphemia slowly turns to him, eyes wide in shock. She’s draped across the daybed in Isolde’s room, like a painting, with a grimoire, Lisa’s specifically, in between her fingers. Hugin is curled tight around her neck as some sort of lemur and napping heavily. He’s in his collar, matching the choker Sirius wears. He already took many pictures for prosperity and so he could show Hadrian when he returned from his mission.

Isolde hums thoughtfully, “I believe this theory has merit but I’d also like to hear your reasoning.”

“When I touched the dude, something pushed back. Let’s consider who they are.” Sirius waves his hand bringing up an image of Roshan, of the man in Horizont Alley. He flicks his fingers, expanding it. “Each time I interact with a child from this man, they feel different from the rest. Hadrian said Roshan had some sickly shit inside him and that this dude did too. I felt it with the man but I didn’t feel it with Roshan yet they’re all linked to whoever their daddy is since he’s able to kill them without being near.”

He turns to them, watching Euphemia sit up, “Additionally, this doesn’t happen with the other members of the cult. Yes, they blow themselves up or whatever but its not the same thing as what I’ve witnessed from direct descendants. The leader is also of us,” Sirius gestures to himself and Isolde. “Even if they are just a separate entity now. This may also be why they’re so insistent on freeing Hugin but I don’t think he actually wants the magic to be free. I think he wants Hug for himself.” 

Isolde taps her chin, head tilting, “For what reason?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius admits, peering back at the images. “I have a theory but I’m not sure it’s accurate.”

“Let’s hear it, Siri.” Euphemia prompts gently and Isolde makes an agreeing noise. 

“I think whoever this man came from is a side that was disowned from the le Fay. That’s the only explanation if they did have a strand.” Sirius says slowly. “Think about it, yeah? The rejection of our magic isn’t anything new when if we look at how Hugin was, essentially on a warpath between the 13th century to sometime in the last 50 years. Coincidentally, the Morvains started popping up around the early 12th century so this sec has been active since then, possibly earlier, but that doesn’t explain why suddenly le Fay would begin to reject their magic. How did these people not get ahold of him sooner if le Fay were actively trying to purge him?” 

Sirius leans back on his hands, “Despite his heavy opinions and fury, I don’t think Hugin ever wanted to be separate but I don’t think he had a choice. While still a strand, he is part of our magic but why does he need to be accepted now? I believe his fracture from us, while still being present, is because someone fucked around and in that subsequent response, it ripped us apart. It makes no sense otherwise. There is no us without him and vice versa being a sentient strand doesn’t change that.” 

“Realistically, I think we broke our own magic because of how he works and he’s been scrambling ever since which made him more volatile. This could also be why le Fay started turning away from him. If it was a disownment, we broke him but because we are more than the one, most of him stayed with us. Its become a symbiotic relationship instead of our magic just being. Whatever fragment left is with these people. I believe this is why this man is so desperate for him. I think that’s why their daddy has been watching me. He knows I’ve accepted Hugin but he hasn’t told anyone. I don’t know if he’s just confident or if he’s weighing his options. I can only imagine what his core feels like.”

Isolde steeples her fingers together, leaning back in her seat. She opens her mouth then closes it, humming low and long. “I believe I know who might know which le Fay was cast out as it isn’t acknowledged anywhere.”

“If what I’ve read about your family’s allegiances was correctly assessed, I agree with you.” Euphemia tells her. 

Sirius perks up, “What? Who?”

“Lord Death.” Isolde responds smoothly. “As I mentioned, Lord Death was a long time friend of le Fay. I know you recently went through the tome I gave you that explains our harrowing relationship with him. le Fay were dying. We were an incredibly weak house at the beginning so I’m unsure why he even bothered with us but he’s always had unique opinions. Perhaps he just saw something he liked and worked to ensure it would come to fruition.” She straightens. 

“I believe you are correct in your assumptions. It hadn’t made much sense to Maman either. If we consider how she… how she passed, Hugin was able to successfully wipe their memories, I think they’re all connected by whatever silly man is running things. It may not be precise like they descended from us as well but I believe he shared pieces of his magic with them. In consequence, Hugin was able to touch the fragment he contains to ensure Maman’s final wish was completed. If that’s the case, Hugin still holds more sway over the fragment in comparison to its container. Whatever is inside this… subset is reaching back out and that is why they’re likely scrambling so terribly now. Your lordship announcement barely lasted two weeks until they managed to sniff you out but he is wary of it happening again.” 

Sirius inhales slowly, “You think he realized his memories were modified. If Aurelia was the last known, living le Fay, then my existence could easily be traced back to her. This would also explain why the people would just obliterate themselves instead of him killing them but that doesn’t explain why he would send his kids after me knowing I could possibly do what Aurelia did since they are direct.”

Euphemia chimes in, “I believe I have a theory for this.”

Isolde and Sirius turn to her, excited, and she huffs, pleased. “I asked Hadrian for the memories of these… occurrences so I could support you with my ideas. Naturally. You are my child as well. This Roshan boy was very different than the man you encountered in Horizont Alley but I don’t believe this had anything to do with age. The first, I’m certain, was a right of passage of sorts for Roshan and he failed but I am certain his father knew he would. He clearly holds no regard for his spawn because the need for information in greater. In addition for the second occurrence, if you review the memory, it's very subtle but the moment you moved in his time freeze, this man’s father pulled back partially then completely when Hadrian attacked beyond the minuscule piece of magic he used to continue to assess you and subsequently kill his spawn. So he does know and I’m sure it frightens him how much you’ve progressed in such little time.” 

“Wow, you are so smart.” Sirius says dreamily.

“Isn’t she?” Isolde hisses in furious agreement. 

Euphemia huffs once more, “You are both so silly.”

“Psh, no, take the compliment, Effie.” Sirius scoffs. “Ugh, this makes things more wildly complicated. He’s going to send that little girl after me.”

Isolde and Effie straighten in alarm. 

“It's the only logical conclusion.” Sirius closes his notebook. “But if he does, I want to see if I can save her. She’s barely fucking 11.”

“That is a dangerous game, my love.” Isolde’s voice is severe. “You don’t know how indoctrinated she is with these people. There is also the fact that she would be linked to him. Absolutely not.”

“She is just a child, Maman.” 

“And you are my child.” Isolde hisses furiously. “I could care less about some bastard spawn if it means mine is affected, child or not.”

The room trembles slightly. Sirius swallows, a bit awed at such a response. His heart clenches in elation. While he knows his mother loves him, it was still a bit surprising how quick she’s willing to throw hands for him or be pissy in his defense. Sirius raises his hands in surrender, “I won’t do anything that puts me in jeopardy. If our suspicions are accurate, I can take it from her. The strand. I don’t think it will fight me.”

Isolde slumps in her seat, rubbing her face roughly. “Why bother?”

“We’ve already concluded that this man doesn’t give a fuck about his kids,” Sirius explains slowly, searching Isolde’s expression. “And I know how it feels to have a parental figure that’s already set you up to fail.” 

Isolde’s face shutters as does Euphemia. Sirius presses gently, “If…If there is no way for her to see reason, then I will kill her. Child or not. But I don’t think I’ll have to. I know this man is feeding them some different image of me. At the end, Roshan said I wasn’t as he said. I never saw,” He gestures to the Horizont Alley man. “Him in any of those memories with that little girl. Just Roshan. I don’t think she’s too deep and I don’t think she has anyone else. When she does come after me, she will be scared. Maman, she is so young.”

Sirius flicks the images away to procure a blurred image of the girl. Euphemia inhales sharply. Sirius looks back to them, “Do you see?”

Isolde clenches her jaw, eyes bright and murderous, “You will swear to me. If she is as I suspect, you put her in the ground or I will.”

There is a spark of hot magic and Sirius grabs it with his own, “Promise.”

Isolde flicks her hand dismissively. “Idiot boy. Be lucky I am so charmed by you. No other man has reached this level of audacity and lived beyond your father.”

“Awww, you like me.” Sirius snickers.

Isolde appears thunderous, floundering, “Of course I do! How dare-”

“Our son is making a jest, Lottie.” Euphemia says serenely. 

Isolde straightens and scoffs, “I knew that.” She flips her hair. “Definitely. Yes.”

Sirius exchanges a glance with Effie, her shoulders trembling, and they burst into laughter. Isolde huffs, offended, but her mouth twitches in amusement. A quiet knock comes to the door and Sirius perks up, flicking his hand. It smoothly opens to reveal one hesitant Severus Snape. Sirius leers at the raven necklace he wears against his severe outfit. Snape glares at him, cheeks pink. Isolde gasps, clapping in delight, “Severus! Hello.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Snape.” Euphemia greets cheerfully. “Here to whisk our Siri away to hear the sounds of the damned?”

Snape’s eyebrow twitches, “Good morning Lady Potter, Madame le Fay. That is correct, even though it appears he is not dressed.”

“I’m going like this.” Sirius blinks. Granted, he isn’t dressed very modestly but when the fuck has he. Plus, Sirius really wanted to wear this mesh top. The back had this pretty design of a deathmoth embroidered with these strange geometric patterns. Sirius also wore slacks again, high waisted of course, because he is on a mission of being fine as fuck. If Snape wanted his goth attire or whatever, Sirius must compliment it. Be bitchin’ as they say.

Snape’s eyebrow twitches again. He sneers, “Have you no shame? I am seeing things.”

“Barely. Not like I’m not in pants.” Sirius scoffs, pushing to his feet. He turns to Isolde and Euphemia, “I’d say be good but that’s not my business and we support women’s rights, women’s wrongs in this house.”

“Yes.” Isolde nods severely.

Effie makes a noise of agreement, patting Hugin’s little head as he stretches out. “Have fun.”

Sirius gives them a merry wave as Snape bows deeply in goodbye. Hugin shifts into a snake as they walk, slithering up Snape’s legs to wrap around his torso with a pleased hiss. Sirius glares at Hugin. This bird! Giving out all his secrets. Snape sends Sirius a smug look, stroking Hugin’s spine, “Something to say, Siri?”

Sirius scoffs, flicking his fingers, but his neck is warm. “If you didn’t know I enjoyed your company at this point, I don’t know what the fuck to tell you.” 

Snape sniffs, “Naturally but I enjoy seeing how embarrassed you are to admit such things.”

Sirius balks, “How fucking- I am not embarrassed!”

“Coy. Shy. Embarrassed. Shall I continue?”

“You’ve gotten too fuckin’ comfortable, Sev.” Sirius responds, a bit miserable because what the fuck was this teasing. So soon? It hasn’t even been 10 minutes!

“I admit I enjoy our banter.” Snape looks at him. “Humorous that the first time we met, you broke my nose.”

“Before or after you locked my legs together and fractured my knee,” Sirius grins. 

“Certainly before.” Snape flicks his fingers. He hums thoughtfully, “Perhaps after. You were being insufferable as you always are.”

Sirius laughs. “Good thing you enjoy my company now, eh?”

“Even if I have to deal with little Potter.” Snape sneers. “His brother is a welcome change to both of your shenanigans.”

“Careful, Sevvie. I know you three are on first name basis now. How goes Hadrian’s latest care package to our resident Potion’s Master?”

Snape glowers at him, embarrassed and red faced. “Be silent.”

Sirius makes a zipping motion then opens his mouth. 

“Sirius Altair.” Snape says severely. “Actually this works perfectly. You have been secretive.”

“Have I?” Sirius asks, amused. “I’m afraid you may try to hex my ass off again.”

Snape sends him a speaking look, “Let’s see it then.”

Sirius hums in acceptance, procuring his wand from beneath his sleeve. The ebony is much richer than it was prior, as if his wand was growing with him. A pleasant surprise as he really enjoyed her. He drags his index finger along the gnarled edge, knicking his finger against a rougher groove. The more time Sirius spends practicing (and being terrified by Hadrian springing to life in almost an instant now), the more he realizes that he doesn’t need as much. He didn’t know the exact science, magic? But it was looking promising. 

Stop, Sirius thinks, watching the sliver of outrage that flickers across Snape’s face as he pauses midstep. Sirius turns to him with a cheeky grin, earning a furious, if not elated, glare. Sirius taps the underside of Snape’s chin, watching magic ripple over him. Snape frowns, peering around curiously, “Everything is still frozen. How extraordinary.”

“Right.” Sirius grins. “I’m hoping our visit will give me more insight on how to inconvenience my enemies.”

Snape gives him an amused look. His expression turns ponderous, “This idea has merit but I believe for this man, he should die slowly and painfully.”

Sirius blinks, “You sound like Hadrian.”

“What a compliment.”

Notes:

whoo whoo, this is shorter than I am... used to. However, I also now have bronchitis. literally never going anywhere on the holidays again. shit is ratchet as hell. Think I'll upload the next chapter... tomorrow since its done or the day after. I feel really bad when I don't get shit out every two days. i realize ive done this to myself but damn.

additionally, ive decided ill post the sirixdeath story in the next week??? maybe??? ive been obsessing over it because i had a fucking mind-break-side-eye-omfgadiscovery! moment. Somehow this became bigger in my brain than I expected, like this story did, lmao. Originally Sirius was not supposed to be a le fay and james was actually the s/o instead of remus but who am I to deny the plot bunny when she begins to beat my ass?

Chapter 36: Interlude: A Date

Summary:

Sirius goes big then wants to go home

Notes:

No TWs other than Siri being insufferable and Hadrian being delighted by scary things

- Sirius "it is my turn to be outrageous" le Fay
- Sirius "plotting" vs Hadrian "in love and doesnt know it"
- Wow folx, even Hadrian can be shy
- Sirius le Fay, the poshest bitch we know, rides his first roller coaster
- Hugin "you live like this??" le Fay vs Sirius "I'm going to cry" le Fay
- not to worry! he gets his hand held!
- Piggyback ride propaganda
- buying out the whole gift shop

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius feels like he’s been planning this date for weeks despite it barely being three days. He refuses to become complacent in this relationship even if Hadrian has essentially taken the lead in this specific department. Its not that Sirius minded, quite the opposite. While he hates surprises to most degrees, he does enjoy face planting on his bed only to be thrown over a shoulder moments later because there’s a new restaurant Hadrian wants to try or we’re getting crepes or be ready in ten, it’s Jay and Lils turn or a lazy shrug that’s followed up by I just wanted to take you out. 

Crazy. Crazy. Sirius did dutifully work through his ideas with James, who had gotten weepy and strange when Sirius finally decided on taking Big Potter to an amusement park, specifically with roller coasters. Sirius has no idea what that was but it sounded fast and tall. It was a win when James shared that they had planned to go a few years ago but Hadrian had an unexpected recon mission and told his parents to go without him (which they soundly refused, just waited until he returned and forced him on a cruise) so now Sirius must correct this. He had it all planned out!

James would distract Big Potter by being himself while Sirius packed them bountiful snacks and water, which apparently was needed according to Lily. Sirius had already rented out Phantasmagoria Park, at Effie’s suggestion, for the next two days; one for them, the other for their workers to gather their wits before the masses returned. He also asked if he could tip the workers who were working which caused the woman on the floo call to faint after he said how much. He has no idea why. Sirius did ask Alaric if he was spending too much and his goblin laughed, which was frightening, and told him to spend more because he had never been more inspired. Naturally, Sirius took his blessing. 

Marlene had gotten him this khaki? Khacken? Kånken bookbag that she added an extension and featherlight charm to, which was incredibly useful because Sirius thinks he made enough food to choke a dragon. It was also covered in enamel pins that his family had picked out and this tinkling little fox and hound charm that Snape had given him, which in hindsight was hilarious as Sirius was a dog and Hadrian was a fox. 

Sirius bounces out of the kitchen just as James is dragging Hadrian down the stairs, positively gleeful. Hadrian sighs, aggrieved and accepting as he always is. James kisses his brother on the forehead, then Sirius, and scurries away with a “have fun” that has Hadrian narrowed eyed and suspicious. Sirius blinks, innocent, and procures his portkey, a cute bunny. Fortunately, Phantasmagoria Park is a wizarding world slap of nonsense so he doesn’t have to try to figure out how to work muggle amusement park parking lots. They sounded incredibly chaotic. Ah, I should ride Gertie soon, Sirius thinks. Hadrian’s eyes narrow further. 

“Why are you so cute right now?”

Sirius blushes, “Am I not normally?”

Hadrian crosses his arms over his chest, heavily suspicious, “You are but today something is off. You look fiendish. It's very cute.” 

“You’ll have to find out won’t you?” Sirius hums. “Now hold my hand.”

Hadrian concedes easily, stepping into his space. He places his hand on the bunny when Sirius adjusts it between them. Sirius says, “Apple Butter”. They’re gone in a pop.

Whew, should’ve apparated, Sirius thinks, his mind swimming as he stares up at the gates looming before him. They’re impossibly tall and made from twisted black iron. The metal seemed alive, shifting and curling like vines with a faint hiss, forming shapes of screaming faces, monstrous beasts, and ominous sigils. 

Beyond the gates, the park sprawls in eerie splendor, bathed in a sickly green and violet glow from floating orbs of light. The air is alive with crackling magic and the laughter of witches and wizards dressed in uniforms, and the occasional low growl of something unseen. Cobblestone paths wound through the park like veins, leading to looming structures and rides that seemed to defy physics: a towering roller coaster twisted in on itself like a snake devouring its tail; a carousel spun wildly, its enchanted creatures snapping and snarling; and a Ferris wheel of enormous skeletal hands rotated lazily against the night sky.  

“Oh shit.” Hadrian whispers, clearly awed.

Sirius mentally fist pumps. A park barker, clad in a dark red coat and a incredibly large hat that shadows his eyes, appears by the gate. His smile is unnaturally wide, revealing teeth sharpened to points.

“Welcome to Phantasmagoria Park!” he drawls, his voice unnervingly smooth. “Your password, sir.”

“Oh, oh.” Sirius straightens. He created the perfect phrase so he would not forget. “If Abba and Queen disband, I’ll kill you and myself.”

Hadrian chokes. The barker’s grin widens further, eyes bright with humor, “A reasonable thing to do.”

The gates creak open with a haunting groan, and Sirius has to tug an enamored Hadrian inside. There is a certain childlike wonder in his gaze that squeezes Sirius’ heart tightly. The air has shifted into something colder and the barker is nice enough to give Sirius a map. Sirius doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this instance so he tips the man, who balks at the amount but is unable to respond because Sirius is already dragging Hadrian away. There were 10 rides, specifically coasters which sounded fun and a bit scary because these names are weird, and also additional attractions like a Hall of Cursed Paintings, which couldn’t be as frightening as hearing Hilde Morvain’s locked away souls, but the Flesh Eating Carousel sounded fun. 

“Where first?” Sirius asks, looking up at Hadrian, who looks broken. “Hades. Hadrian.”

Hadrian peers around, “Why is it so dead?”

“Because I didn’t want you to have to wait for rides?” Sirius asks. He frowns. “Hear that but as a statement.”

“Why did you do this?” Hadrian manages. 

Sirius blinks, “Because I like you, stupid.”

“Oh.” Hadrian’s cheeks are very pink. “Ah.”

Sirius sends him an amused look, “Was me not chewing out your cunt of a Yaxley not clear enough? I mean, we could examine my general existence in the last few months and you’d reach this conclusion.”

“Don’t say embarrassing things.” Hadrian scoffs, cheeks darkening further.

Cute! Sirius gestures to the map, “The Howling Abyss sounds fun.” 

Hadrian manages a nod, looking almost embarrassed, bashful, and Sirius coos, earning a weak glare. The Howling Abyss is easy enough to find with its dramatic towering archway that’s been carved from jagged obsidian and glints in that same eerie violet and green glow. The arch looks like a gaping maw and it even has teeth! There is a faint, chilling wind that howls from the entrance, Oh shit, Sirius thinks, cowed. Granted this was tame in comparison to his bird but hell. Hadrian nudges him, visibly excited, and Sirius allows him to drag him inside. 

The lines are empty as they should be but still they wander through the chained rows because Sirius finds it amusing. The attendant perks up when she notices them, her voice echoing unnaturally, “Step right up! The abyss awaits the brave and, perhaps, the foolish. Sign your soul away here, good sirs, lest you wish to take responsibility for your nasty demise.”

“Oh shit,” Sirius snorts, charmed. “How polite. Is daddy death this considerate?”

Hadrian laughs, “Occasionally.”

The ride itself was hidden from view, save for a glimpse of jagged metal structures disappearing into an endless, enormous chasm and a stark darkness. From somewhere deep within the nothingness, an unearthly scream tears through the air, following the rumbling sound of a cart being released into the void. The wind grows shrill and frigid, carrying a whisper of ancient, guttural language. Hadrian appears smitten, which is alarming but who was he? Sirius talks to his own magic. Crazy!

The attendant gestures them forward, “Choose your seats wisely. Feed the fear and let it take what it wants.” 

“Oh, I don’t like that.” Sirius whispers. 

“I’ll hold your hand.” Hadrian says serenely, delighted.

“As you fucking should.” Sirius hisses, trailing after him as they approach the ride. He notices a faint shimmer of wards surrounding the cart. The cart itself suddenly rattles and howls as though alive and Sirius jumps, earning a quiet laugh and a snicker from the attendant. Hell, he sways, taking Hadrian’s hand as he moves to the seats in the fucking front. Heaven’s help me, Sirius thinks wildly. Hugin pops his head out with a curious noise, glances at the nothingness then looks at Sirius as if he’s insane. You and me fucking both, Sirius thinks, settling in his seat. A bar materializes across their laps.

The ride begins with a lurch and sends them spiraling into the darkness below. Sirius nearly breaks Hadrian’s hand, grasping the bar. The descent is immediate and fucking visceral, track plummetting straight down to plunge them into a terrifying darkness. Wind roars in his ears and the whispers they heard before shift into deafening howls. Oh my god, Sirius whimpers as Hadrian laughs beside him, delighted. Horror movies did not prepare him for this. Just wait until he gets his hands on Wes Craven. Hands on fucking sight!

Suddenly, the track twists sharply and sends the cart careening sideways as the darkness around them fractures, revealing glimpses of enormous shifting shapes and glowing eyes. Sirius feels faint, squeezing his eyes closed as the cart is spun violently and they’re upside down. It is a brief, minute respite before another plummet begins. 

“Fuck. This is great.” Hadrian laughs and laughs and Sirius thinks he must be fucking insane but fuck, he is incredibly happy that his boyfriend is having a great time. Didn’t matter that Sirius was uncomfortable and, frankly, frightened if it meant that he could hear this sound. Minor discomfort meant nothing. It gets worse before it gets better and Sirius swears something touched him numerous times when those shadows reached for them. He loses track of how many times they are twisted or catapulted or hurtled like bags of potatoes. 

When the cart screeches to a halt, Sirius nearly weeps in relief. “Oh my god.” 

“Can we go again?” Hadrian asks wildly. He is simply so cute right now. 

Sirius manages a laugh, grinning. “If you hold my hand.”

Hadrian’s lips quirk, “Always.”

So Sirius goes through the torture again, then another time, before he’s lifted out of the cart on shaking legs but Hadrian gives him a piggyback ride, which wow, what a fucking reward. Hadrian studies the map as Sirius feeds him tiny lox bagels while hanging off him. He doesn’t even bother letting Sirius down, carrying him easily throughout the park to their next ride, which has Thestrals! Sirius is allowed to pet them which is great. Gatsby will surely be jealous but they’re so sweet! He does give them a few pieces of ham after paying the attendant to silence, much to Hadrian’s amusement and the wizard’s startled expression. 

While less harrowing than the Abyss, it was still terrifying but also incredibly amusing when the ride stops numerous times because the Thestrals are needy, smitten things. The attendant gives up halfway so it becomes a strange petting zoo that usually ends with startling drops and Hadrian laughing in Sirius’ ear. The Thestrals are displeased to see them go and ignoring the attendant’s multiple attempts to get them to go rest. 

“Bees is going to kick my fucking ass.” Sirius whispers, slinging his backpack across his stomach. “Do you want a cucumber sandwich, Hugs? I made them for you.”

Hugin pushes out with fiendish hands. Hadrian sends them an amused look, “Gatsby is more tolerable than Umbra. I remember the sulking he did after you spent too much time with Snape’s owl.”

“Ugh, Umbra can be so bitchy. How am I supposed to explain to him that he is a phoenix? He is naturally more bad ass than a simple barn owl.”

“Careful, you’ll offend Lise.” 

Sirius pulls a face and Hadrian laughs, cupping his chin and pulls him into a long kiss. Sirius melts against him, a bit embarrassed when Hugin coos like the bitchy bastard he is. Hadrian gives him a mean grin after, “Shrieking Whirl is next.”

“Whatever you want.” Sirius responds, dazed. 

Sirius has immense regrets. Never before has he considered trees goddamn terrifying. Sirius doesn’t even know how many rides they go on because it is just a mirage of shit, stop, okokokokok, and a delighted Potter. The Flesh Eating carousel isn’t even tame. Sirius doesn’t have regrets but he does have concerns because surely, normal people shouldn’t be this pleased even if the sight does make his heart throb like some weird creature and he does get many piggyback rides for his sacrifices and a large, stuffed Thestral that has been named Mini Bees! Sirius manages to win a mini stuffed cerberus for Lucan, a minotaur for James, and a medusa for Marlene.

“They have a souvenir shop.” Sirius mutters, shoving their bounty into his bag and ends up losing the damn smoothie he wanted to grab after. He sulks. 

Hadrian gently takes his bookbag, flicking his hand and alas, the smoothie. He hands it to Sirius, who beams, “Are you about to spend an astronomical amount of money?”

Sirius slurps noisily, nodding. “Mhm.” 

“Oh, Riri.” Hadrian sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. Fine.”

“Yes!” Sirius hisses. 

Hadrian snags Sirius before he scampers off and presses a soft kiss to his temple before dipping down to kiss him. Sirius hums happily, grasping the front of his shirt. Hadrian pulls away but doesn’t go far, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Thank you.”

Sirius’ heart flips. He manages a scoff, face hot, “I can’t be the only spoiled bitch in this house.”

Hadrian’s responding smile makes his stomach twist. Whew! We must stay focused, Sirius thinks, a bit dumb, staggering after Hadrian when he takes his hand. When they return home, it is with many spooky things for everyone they love and these super cool skulls that apparently holds glasses and cleans them! Sirius had to sneak this purchase but he’ll just chuck it at James and Hadrian’s head at some point. Hadrian, also, somehow, spent more money than him. Crazy! 

The Parental Potters and James are waiting for them in the sitting room, a unified hands on hips moment as if to say, and, how did it go.

“I was very scared.” Sirius says solemnly. 

Euphemia’s eyebrows shoot up, “Phatasmia Park is supposed to be family friendly.”

Sirius blinks, “Oh. I guess I mixed up the names.”

“We went to Phantasmagoria Park.” Hadrian hums, rummaging through Sirius’ bag as his parent’s exchange startled looks. “It was delightful.”

Effie laughs softly, clearly charmed. She sends Sirius a subtle thumbs up and he beams. 

James frowns, “Didn’t someone die there?”

Monty nods slowly, “Three wixen actually.”

“My soul did.” Sirius mutters. 

“It was fucking great.” Hadrian responds cheerfully, procuring various trinkets and stuffies, as he calls them. “Riri let me go on everything and we got to see a banshee. Startled the fuck out of me.”

Sirius sends him a withering look, “You barely reacted! I shrieked.”

“I had to be strong for you.” Hadrian nods, placing a petrified set of kappa’s in Effie’s hands. She immediately appears enamored in comparison to how Monty jumps when Hadrian thrusts a pair of shrunken heads at him. “They’re real. Good bonding agent.”

Monty appears faint but dutifully takes the heads, managing a laugh when Hadrian beams at him, “I’m glad you had fun at one of the most dangerous parks in London, Hari.”

Hadrian sniffs, “I am the danger.”

“He is. It sounds delightful.” Euphemia sighs happily, cradling her gifts.

“Glad we didn’t die then.” Sirius mutters, watching James sway in delight when he hands over his minotaur. 

“We should take the girls then. It sounds fun!” James chirps. “I’m going to call him Beans.”

Hadrian laughs, “What a good name. I think Cas would break my face, however. She’s sick of my shit.”

“But if we rope Ef and Monty into it then she can’t say no because she loves us.” Sirius huffs.

Hadrian sends him a surprised look, “You’d go back?”

“If you hold my hand.” Sirius laughs. 

Effie coos, “I’ll hold your other hand, Siri, and practice my squats since my husband will likely need to be carried.”

“I sure will.” Monty says quickly then frowns. He flushes, “Hey!”

“Don’t worry, baba. I can fit you and Riri on my back when maa gets too tired.” Hadrian smirks. 

“I can do that too.” James sniffs.

Hadrian leers at him, “Can you?”

Effie titters, watching her sons with growing delight.

James balks, outraged. “I’ll prove it right now!”

Monty pales, “N-Now Jay-”

“Just let it happen, Monty.” Sirius sighs. He has already resigned himself to acknowledging that Hadrian is a little shit and also uses these moments to heavily praise his brother. Their relationship was so weird sometimes but Sirius supposes he’s never had a healthy, talk shit get hit, united in making their parents bald relationship with Regulus. When he did think of him, he could see where the cracks began to crumble between them, fueled by some one sided competition that Sirius just didn’t understand. Sirius didn’t care about being heir, never had, and was absolutely willing to hand it over to Regulus but he couldn’t fathom why it just made him more upset. 

Whatever, it’s done, Sirius thinks, laughing when James hoists him on his back and sends his father a threatening look, who appears cowed, hands lifted in supplication as he stammers. James ignores him, much to Fleamont’s growing dread. Sirius doesn’t know how they do it but they do and he is positively crushed between these giant men, laughing so hard he snorts, which sets Euphemia off. Hadrian circles them slowly, rubbing his chin.

“You’re putting too much strain on your back, use your hips.”

“Yessir.” James chirps, shifting his weight.

Hadrian nods, grinning, and there is a gleam in his eyes, “Now squat.”

Monty whimpers above Sirius. Turns out James cannot squat while holding them both and they collapse to the softened ground like a pile of leaves. Euphemia bursts out laughing, wand in hand, a hand placed to her chest. Hadrian snickers, gleeful. Sirius can’t help but laugh with her as James sniffles in defeat and Monty starfishes underneath him. He sighs happily, “I’m too old for this shit.”

“Certainly. I need your hips for another several decades hence your padding, dear.”

Hadrian chokes. 

“You… Y-You have sex?!” James gasps. 

“Oh my god, Prongs.” Sirius wheezes, stumbling to his feet. He nearly falls but Hadrian steadies him easily. “You have sex.”

“You do?” Monty gasps, dramatic. “You’re not old enough!”

Hadrian wheezes.

James balks, outraged. “I am too!”

Notes:

Death, watching this entire date, his undead heart incredibly full: look how much my little master is enjoying himself. I am delighted. I should kill the Yaxley for never putting such an expression on his face. yes, yes, that's what I'll do. a le Fay, what a perfect choice, yes, yes. Eradicate any possibility of him leaving your boy
Isolde: wonderful idea, Caelum. Let me know if you need me. I am dwindling at the cur as we speak
Death, charmed, beams:
Kiara, suddenly awake and in cold sweat: oh no

 

teehee we will see Daddy Death in the next episode of DBZ (the next chapter) and a POV shift that will contain more plots huehuehue then we'll get to the meats.

 

edit: toooootally forgot but i have added the DeathxSiri fic to the series :3c if this is your jam, give it a whirl. if it is not, I will see you in next episode of DBZ lmao

Chapter 37: Little Master

Summary:

Hadrian just wants to sleep in Sirius' bed, preferably with Sirius

Notes:

Tws implied sexual content and betrayal, discussions of murder, discussions of disownment, attempted murder (this is all through a story), this chapter ain't that bad, just vibes tbh

- Hadrian "suffering" Potter
- Death being a little shit
- meeting the undead inlaw
- le Fay lore
- a sprinkle of Death's obsession with one Potter
- Siri & Death, unified in making Hadrian suffer

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ah, little master, how did I know I’d find you here?”

“Please don’t start your nonsense. It’s fucking 6.” Hadrian snips, pissy that Death is the first face he sees this morning instead of Sirius. He has strongly considered merging his little le Fay to his bed so he cannot do his runs anymore but then Sirius would pout, which was terrible and, in turn, made Hadrian fucking stupid. How terrible. Hadrian has been glaring at Sirius’ empty spot beside him as he struggles into alertness. Fuck, he was tired. Granted, this was his own doing but he hadn’t had Sirius underneath in, at least, two days. It needed to be corrected. I should go back to bed, he thinks. 

“Missing a certain puppy so soon? He just left.” Death snickers from Sirius’ armchair, draped over the back like the very brooding child he masks himself as. Hadrian sends this being a weak glare and faceplants into Sirius’ pillow. Ugh. Ugh. Why does he always smell so fucking good? Hadrian has never felt more broken even with Kiara, who certainly couldn’t match Sirius’ caliber in any fucking way. Hadrian is aware that humans are imperfect, aware that Sirius is imperfect with that mouth and attitude of his but god, what fucking perfection.

“So happy that you’ve managed to find a le Fay. I must admit I am terribly charmed as I have always been.” Death hums happily. “At least your taste has improved immensely, little master. Your last consideration was so boring. Did you enjoy my gift?”

“I literally hate you.” Hadrian mutters, pushing himself upright. He roughly rubs his face, aggrieved. “Unfortunately, I did. It was useful.” Hadrian glares at him once more. “Why are you here?”

Death sighs, long and loud, throwing his tiny body into his seat, “I have simply missed you, Hadrian Potter.”

Hadrian pulls a face and Death laughs like the fucking shit he is, “I enjoy these mannerisms. So expressive. I find it so odd that many do not consider you human when they haven’t seen what inhumanity looks like.” Death grins, sharp. “Alas, I don’t share with the unworthy. A boon for me.”

“It is too early for you to be this dramatic,” Hadrian sighs heavily. “Well, you’re here. Might as well recap me on what you’ve been up to.”

Death beams, which is alarming, but immediately delves into, frankly, terrifying stories, even from Hadrian’s standpoint. It was strange to see a deity act so… mundane, entertaining Hadrian with his tales, asking asinine questions like why is creamer needed for coffee or I remember when there was a plague and this woman’s mutt ate her baby, do they not do that now? Some of these breeds are so strange and it just goes and goes and goes. Sirius had suspicions, Hadrian knows this but likely not for the reasons he suspected. 

Hadrian didn’t enjoy being weak, having to navigate this whateverthefuck-hasbeen le Fay sect was frustrating as fuck. The incident in Horizont Alley burnt him up to severe degrees, didn’t matter that he could break through eventually, it was too slow and what if Sirius couldn’t move? Then what? Hadrian stands there like some fucking idiot until the hasbeen le Fay takes what’s his? Absolutely not. Then Sirius could manipulate his magic the same. It has been incredible to watch Sirius come into himself, still such a stunning piece of magic.

But there was a chasm building between them and Hadrian will be damned if he isn’t able to keep up. In fairness, he’s never been more motivated in his life. Hadrian has been doing this shit since he was 18, Sirius has been doing this for barely 5 months and he has made such strides that it makes Hadrian feel faint. Fuck, he is smitten. Hadrian was no better than Crowe. He frowns. Oh. What an insult, Hadrian thinks. He says, “Nice to know you’re doing your job when you’re not harassing me.”

“Is it harassment?” Death asks, thoughtful. “You say such strange things, little master.”

Hadrian glares at him, “I still haven’t decided. You can just call me Hadrian, Caelum.”

Death swoons, “Ahhh, I remember the first time I gave you my name and you had sneered at me. What an incredibly charming child you were.”

Hadrian flicks his fingers, scoffing, “You’ve been harassing me since boyhood so at this point, I deserve to do so. You’re like a weird uncle that exists suddenly. Is it not enough that I have so many strange aunts that you must include yourself?”

“Of course.” Death sniffs. “I told you then that you were perfect and I have stood by my decision since you completed my tasks thus continuing to prove your worth yet you deny your calling.” 

Hadrian groans, exasperated, “I have explained why.” 

“My liege,” Death responds softly, almost assuring. “Death is the natural course of life, of time. Even if those struck down by your hand were not, they would still be returned to my weeds. Your interference does not change this. In fact, I have a list,” He waves his hand, bringing up an incredibly long stretch of parchment that splits into another that is much, much longer. 

Death hums, “A consideration, if you will. The parchment to my left is those you have killed, the garbage as you say, the scum of the earth, and the other are the lives that continue to grow with them vanquished now that their paths will no longer cross. This list continues to grow. I’ve told you before I see many things, Hadrian Potter. You see death as such finality without considering the bigger picture. Sacrifices are often made for the greater spec of humanity. It happens every day with or without your interference. The proof is in the pudding as the muggles say.” 

Hadrian glances at his list of dead, his trackings, his assassinations, his murders, then flickers to the other. He huffs, turning away, and rubs his face yet strangely he feels settled by such a revelation. Killing came so easy to him and Hadrian knows this isn't normal, to have such a disregard of life but it was either them or him, them or his family, them or someone innocent. So Hadrian would raise his wand, his blade, his hand. That was just who he was, as his father was, as his mother certainly was. Hadrian looks at Death, “You’ve grown more insistent. Why?”

“Because of who you court, little master.” Death sighs happily. His expression turns maddening and wrong, the skin on his face begins to split, revealing series of feverish eyes lurking in an eerie darkness.  “I love to see when my plots come to fruition. Time is not much to me even if it seems I have waited for very, very long. I admit I found that Yaxley girl to be so… Hm, let’s not be uncouth but this. A le Fay. My, my, my.”

Hadrian snorts, “You’re fiending currently. I can see you, Caelum.”

Death gasps, fixing his features fluidly, and smiles so sweetly like the child whose skin he wears, “Apologies. I am simply delighted.”

Sirius’ bedroom door opens slowly with Sirius hanging off the top like some fool. His face is flushed with a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. Hadrian snorts, feeling his heart skip. Sirius sends him a goofy grin, landing soundly, then startles upon seeing Death. He points, “A baby!”

Death bursts into laughter, eyes wide, and it echoes strangely. 

Sirius gasps, clearly spooked, then looks at Hadrian, alarmed, then back. He gasps again, clapping once, “Daddy Death!”

Death gasps as well, visibly charmed. “What a brilliant name suggestion!”

“Please stop this nonsense.” Hadrian sighs deeply.

“Oh my god, I am not dressed for this.” Sirius says, voice a bit high in panic. Hadrian disagrees but he also loves seeing Sirius in his running shorts. Just so tiny and tight. Sirius continues, oblivious to how often Hadrian stares as he usually is, “Are you leaving? I have, like, a billion of questions. Totally cool if you are… though… Uhm, did I interrupt?”

“This is literally your room.” Hadrian laughs. 

Sirius places his hands on his hips, “I don’t want to be fucking rude. Dude is definitely older than Muggle Jesus.”

“I am,” Death says serenely. “It is no bother to me, little le Fay.” 

Hadrian rubs his temples, “Go shower. He’ll be here when you return.” 

“I will?”

“He will?”

It is hard to glare at them both so Hadrian settles on glaring at the wall until Death quickly agrees that he will remain.

Sirius beams, bouncing to his ensuite as Gatsby slowly peeks his head into Sirius’ bedroom. He sees Death and whinnies high in excitement. Good god, Hadrian thinks, amused when Death lurches to his feet, clearly delighted. Hadrian didn’t know Gatsby’s exact age but he doesn’t even think Thestrals could die being immortal and all that bullshit so naturally they would know of each other. Still it is endearing to see such an incredibly old being coo over an undead horse like some child in a petting zoo. 

“You look well, my friend! Quite spoiled too.” Death says cheerfully, patting Gatsby’s neck. “This le Fay is charming, isn’t he? Just like the women of his line as I had told you when you first considered.”

Gatsby grunts in agreement, pushing his face into Death’s stomach, and folds to the ground with a grace Hadrian had not been expecting. Hadrian watches them then decides he has spent too long upright and collapses back onto Sirius’ massive selection of pillows. It is a trying experience to keep his eyes open with how the bed conforms to him so easily. Ugh. Ugh. His eyes are heavy already. He must doze because he finds himself alerting to Sirius’ quiet laugh. Hadrian blinks drowsily at the ceiling, fingers sliding through his hair. 

It's getting long, he thinks, rolling onto his side to press his face into Sirius’ belly. So warm. 

“I must say it is incredible to see my little master sleep so much.” Death chirps. “Prior I had to hit him with a sleeping dust. He had been running on literal fumes.”

“Bastard.” Hadrian mutters, pleased when Sirius’ hand moves back to his hair.

“How long was he up?” Sirius asks.

“94 hours! I was astonished but I always am by Hadrian Potter.”

Sirius squawks, “Hadrian! No wonder Prongs gets so stressed.”

“I had shit to do.” Hadrian sniffs, affronted. 

“Quite a nasty piece of work he was hunting. Anux Jubilie.”

Sirius gasps, “The murderer? I thought they never caught him! He blew up the Ministry!”

“And I blew him up.” Hadrian yawns. “Can’t arrest someone if there’s no body. Pretty sure Crowe pissed on his parts after.”

“He did.” Death claps happily. “I do enjoy the Crowes. Such a fun family. Their little one has a promising future that I intend on investing in.”

Hadrian lifts his head to send him a weak glare, “I will kill you.”

Death swoons, “Don’t say things like this. It's already so hard to share you, Hadrian Potter.” 

“I could probably take you.” Sirius sniffs daintily and Death appears to be salivating for how expressive his face is currently. “Oh, while we’re on this topic, you said Death came to you when you were 17 yet he said he’s always been with you.” 

“He didn’t have a corporeal form and likely wasn’t sure I’d be hot shit.” Hadrian scoffs. “He was a whisper then James was kidnapped and he became more prominent after that but I still didn’t know what he looked like.”

“Hadrian Potter was such a fiend in his youth but less capable than he is now.” Death comments, face serene. “I had never met a more bloodthirsty child. So driven. My last consideration was such a disappointment but this one. Ahhh, I have existed a long time, Sirius le Fay, and I have never met a more perfect vessel.” 

Sirius makes a curious noise, “What exactly does that mean?”

“I am everything, everywhere at once but every so often I find a… spark, if that makes sense. A human spark. Death magic is very old, very demanding as are the souls I house. Even with mastery of the Hallows, if the vessel is not aligned with me they will succumb. A fool’s game, if I’m honest. Albus Dumbledore was my last consideration but mm, something wasn’t right. Then Hadrian was born, a descendant of the Peverells, a spawn of the Rudrapathas. Do you know what black magic is, Sirius le Fay?”

Sirius shakes his head. 

“It is of me.” Death grins. “So few houses have courted my magic but there have only been two that have succeeded. The Peverells. The Rudrapathas.” 

“Oh shit.” Sirius whispers. “But you… James is the same.”

“Jay isn’t power hungry enough,” Hadrian responds, pushing himself upright. He roughly wipes his eyes. “And as I said, I won’t allow him such burdens.”

Death doesn’t appear offended to be referred to as a burden and smiles, slow and genial, “As you say, sire. Though I will say you were an unexpected surprise, Sirius le Fay. I have watched over this family for quite some time and while I knew you were a le Fay, something was off about you. You felt very similar to the discarded members of your lineage then the summer happened and I discovered the true strand prospers! Such an angry thing. He has been angry for a long, long time. I truly thought he had given up after your mother passed for how silent he was. Now he is more as you are.” 

Hadrian blinks. What? Discarded members? “True…” His mind ripples in understanding. How fucking complicated. “These fucks have a strand?” 

“My little master is so smart, isn’t he?”

Sirius laughs, startled. “Yes. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him.” He turns to Hadrian. “That’s what I’m thinking as well. Think about it, yeah? How else would Aurelia be able to obliviate our family’s existence beyond her to those people? They can’t all be related to us but the leader is. If he was sharing his magic and they have a strand, Hugin would still have more sway. He’s been scrambling because he needs Hugin to complete his severed strand because if I do have more weight than he does, I can take it from him.”

Hadrian hums thoughtfully. “They’re the same strand yet fractured. A disownment occurred?”

That made the most sense with how possessive Hugin is of Sirius. Hadrian couldn’t imagine the magic willingly leaving the le Fay line after being with them for an incredible amount of time. This would also explain why Sirius held more weight when they came across one of those hasbeen le Fays. Even with Sirius’ adaptability, argumentatively the man should’ve been able to maintain his own control but no, he cowed so easily. If there was another part of their magic that came with them due to the split from the main house, Hugin-

“Ah, his strand is throwing a fit. He’s gotten more desperate recently for information which is likely why he sent his sons or whatever.” Hadrian muses. “That sickly shit must be the strand he’s using to monitor.”

Sirius sways, eyes dreamy, “Wow, you are so smart.” 

Hadrian’s heart skips a beat. He sends him an amused look and Sirius leans into him. Hadrian feels his face go hot when Death coos. God, why must I fight these battles, he thinks, sighing then frowns, “Who was disowned?”

“Thrilled. Thrilled you asked, little master.” Death sighs happily. “In the late 11th century, there was a le Fay. Seraphina le Fay,” He laughs suddenly. “I know such a boring name, I said the same thing.”

Sirius laughs, rubbing his face. “I expected, literally, anything else.”

“Seraphina le Fay was a charming woman as most are in your family but she had been at odds with Herbestus Peverell nearly all her life. Not that it wasn’t without merit as Herbestus was a devoted man but also known to have a terrible temper. Seraphina was not the only member of your house that had such opinions but the blood oaths between the two houses outweighed such frivolous bickering for all, except her.”

Death settles in his chair, humming happily, “Around this time, Salazar Slytherin had been at odds with the Peverells. They were not house to take offense easily and neither was the House of Slytherin. During a magical conflict, Seraphina intervened to save Salazar from the curse intended to kill him that was sent by none other than Herbestus Peverell. This was the straw that broke the camel's back as they say. The Peverells were furious with the le Fays. It was one thing to have a member so openly blatant in their disapproval of their house but to also interfere with their affairs?”

He continues, “This offense would not be swept aside as happened previously. The Peverells were willing to sever their oaths, their allegiance to le Fay, but the lady le Fay of the time, Caelina le Fay, had simply had enough of Seraphina. It was enough that she brought their family such grief with her opinions but now she was affecting their livelihood, the standing they worked so hard for. Seraphina was cast out officially, much to her dismay and hatred towards her previous family and, of course, Salazar who turned his back on her after she was disowned.”

“Naturally in the responding chaos, the Peverells forgave le Fay for the offense as disownment is no small matter and le Fay incurred a life debt from Salazar when Seraphina attempted to kill him.” Death concludes cheerfully. 

“Fuck.” Hadrian whispers. The drama for one. 

Sirius is incredibly quiet beside him, appearing ponderous, “Suppose this explains why they hate me so much as well.” He looks down at his lap then back up, “Is it bad that I feel sorry for her?”

Hadrian could certainly understand why with how fresh Sirius’ own disownment was. 

Death blinks, “You are much more compassionate than your parents. How curious.”

Sirius flushes, “I know what it’s like to not have it.”

“Mm, yes, Walburga Black was a rancid piece of work.” Death sneers.

“Are you allowed to have judgments like that?” Sirius asks, amused. 

“Keep my secrets, little le Fay.” Death admonishes gently. “I am nice enough to share my little master with you. Unheard of. It was bad enough he was with a Yaxley previously.”

“I appreciate it. I’d be really sad if you didn’t.” 

“I am right here.” Hadrian chimes in, feeling affronted for some reason.

“Dreamy, isn’t he?” Death sighs, continuing as if Hadrian had never spoken.

Sirius peers up at Hadrian, those strange eyes so earnest and warm, “Mhm.”

Notes:

so. got a new computer yesterday (i write on scrivener) and lost... like... all my shit lmao. I hadn't realized my backup was attached to my documents and not my dropbox. Super glad for paper drafts tbh because fuck, what a crushing discovery. this is your reminder to back your shit up regularly :thumbs up:

pretty pissed if I'm being honest but alas, we must move forward.

Chapter 38: Family Reunion

Summary:

Sirius' long plot works out.

Notes:

Tws, violence, referenced child death, referenced death, toxic badbad family dynamics

- Sirius' quest for a baby (this is not what you think this is)
- Elias & James, united in audacity
- Sirius meets a little lion mage
- He also pisses of Daddy Hasbeen
- ....and also pisses off everyone who cares about him
- Hadrian suffering

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius is being followed. He noticed a few shops away, James’ arm draped across his shoulder and Elias on his right, arguing heatedly with said Potter, but whoever is following him, and Sirius suspects he knows who is, hasn’t drawn closer. The distance maintained is a bit impressive but Sirius doesn’t think they’ve realized he’s already clocked their movements and by extension, Hugin has to. 

He isn’t surprised they had waited until he was in public once more to make their move. Sirius suspects the leader has eyes likely everywhere but he’s never made a move when Sirius was at the Ministry. It likely wasn’t worth the grief. The Aurors were housed in the same department as Sirius and Roderick was not one to mess with, neither was Vanessa, captain of the First Division, Tyrions. Sirius still hadn’t officially met her yet, mainly because he kept with the Brigade but Sirius knows of her. 

Sirius tunes back into the conversation, glancing at the brightly lit shops as they pass, wixen laughing on the other side of windows, others gesturing to an item they’re interested in. Moody was covering the south side of the patrol with Leonard and Frank. Tennison took east with his trainees and one senior Auror. There wasn’t really a west to consider in this area since it loosely tied into north so Elias decided they would cover this end. 

Sirius does find his trail a bit bold and it delights him. He didn’t feel nearly as scared as he did before, hardly bothered to change his hair color at all and simply wore his true appearance without consideration. Sirius wasn’t some weak, ignorant fuck anymore. Anything this offset sent his way would be dealt with accordingly. Hugin trills in agreement, vibrating like a soft ball of warmth, and Sirius finds himself snorting, amused. 

“You are just as bad as Sirius.” Elias hisses.

James gasps, delighted. “What a compliment, Elittles.”

Elias glares at him. “You have no respect for your elders.”

“Sounds like a food.” Sirius comments absently, feeling Hugin shift inside him. Ah, finally moving closer. Whoever is following him is slowly bridging the gap between them. Hugin trills again, this time with a sharper edge, urging his focus. His gaze darts to the reflections in the shop windows, scanning for confirmation. There, just behind a cluster of wixen admiring a display of enchanted jewelry, a small figure lingers too long before ducking into the flow of pedestrians.

Sirius resists the urge to laugh.

“Finally,” he murmurs, the word swallowed by the hum of the street. Sirius catches Elias’ eyes flashing, how they flicker to the side, how he falters midsentence, and James goes stiff against him. The air tastes heavy, like molasses, but still, wixen bustle happily around. Sirius hums quietly, “I’ll handle this.”

The immediate protest from the other two is expected and Sirius finds himself charmed by it. He raises his hands, placating, “If its just her, I-”

A spell comes careening towards them and Hugin is whipping out with a snarl, just a touch faster than Elias, and he shields the three of them. There is a scream, then, chaos. Sirius finds himself annoyed. He wanted to avoid all this fanfare but clearly someone had other plans. It doesn’t seem to have been the girl since she went right and this spell came from the left. Find her, Sirius thinks, wand already in hand. Hugin swirls in agreement, splitting inside him and he’s off. Sirius moves in time with James, shielding pedestrians as Elias moves on the offensive, hooded figures spilling from alleys. 

There’s way more than there was for Roshan, which likely meant the girl was solely here to monitor and not interact. This does make Sirius slump a bit in relief but he does wonder what failure would look like for her. Sirius hope she can save her. He conjures a bubble of sorts, gently clearing the way for Elias as James follows up behind him, firing hex after hex. His deer has certainly become more precise with a touch of that manic expression that his brother often wears. 

Found, Hugin snarls. Sirius grins, feeling the exact moment she’s dragged into their domain, and flicks his hand, cobblestone breaking underneath them as feathered hands snatch the robed people up with a devastating crunch. He would have to show Hadrian this memory since he learned it from him after all. It was a bit perplexing how their magic seemed to complement one another but Sirius had theories. He meets James’ eye as he turns to him and it's like watching someone experience a surprise when they hate them. Sirius gives him an apologetic look before disappearing. 

Gurgling groans greet him in the domain, the darkness spreading like a sticky film as mounds of feathers pulse and pulse. In the center, is the girl, small, her eyes as discolored as Roshan’s but so similar to his own, except instead of silver, her base is green. She is encased in barbed feathers that ooze. The girl is incredibly cute, even if she is miserable currently, with the smallest cherub face. Sirius tilts his head, studying her for a long moment. Hugin is settled behind her, a bit lazy like an overgrown predator with how he lazily whips his boned tail. 

Sirius hesitates but decides against speaking out loud. Was I right, he thinks. Hugin inclines his head, every eye flickering to the trembling form before moving back to Sirius in unison. Can we take it, Sirius asks and Hugin huffs, amused and a bit pitying. There is a soft swirl of sickly magic that appears before Sirius and the girl gasps, alarmed. Sirius hums, studying it.

Sirius gently prods the magic, feeling how it hisses then quiets almost immediately, assessing with how it pulses and pulses. It swirls, a familiar eerie eye breaking through the plume and Sirius inhales slowly. So he was right. They did have a strand but ugh, how fucking awful it feels. Sirius takes it between his palms, feels how it shudders in response, eye crinkling in elation, and he can hear the faintest sound of yelling, the smashing of furniture and a roar of rage before it cuts off completely. Coward, Sirius thinks and Hugin yawns loudly in agreement. 

“Y-You don’t deserve to house him!” She shouts, eyes swimming with furious tears. 

Sirius sends her an amused look, gesturing to the magic, “Sounds like he wants to be with me.” 

He peers back down at the strand, still so small, which meant there was more. Sirius does wonder. If the severed strand was reaching back, they could- Oh. Oh. That’s how he’s finding me, Sirius thinks wildly. If the strand was searching for him, for them, they could follow the pull. Sirius may be able to do the same, finally silence this fucker for good. Hugin pushes lazily to his feet, stretching long and languid and Sirius holds out the magic to him. 

“Let’s make us whole, Hugs.” Sirius says. The magic in his hands swirls excitedly in response. Hugin preens, circling Sirius slowly before rubbing his boned head into his outstretched palm and the magic surges towards him, dissolving with barely a protest. 

“What are you doing?” The girl demands, eyes wide, and she struggles against her bonds.

“By right, this is mine.” Sirius tells her. “He belongs to me as Hugin does. The question here is, what are you doing here?”

The girl clamps up, “I won’t talk. You might as well kill me, Lord le Fay.”

Sirius gives a lazy shrug despite the onslaught of anger that surges through him. Was this a joke? A test? He doesn’t understand any of this. Sirius crosses his arms, fingers lazily tapping on his forearm, forcing a calm he doesn’t quite feel. “I don’t need to do that.”

Her eyes widen. “W-What?”

“I have you here.” Sirius replies smoothly. “This is my house. My world. Didn’t notice?”

She looks around frantically, face darkening in recognition, perhaps maybe acceptance but her jaw clenches and she looks at him again, furious and building and building. Sirius cocks an eyebrow at her, waiting. 

“I have nothing to say to you.” She spits. Sirius stares at her for a long moment, waiting, for what, he’s not sure but she just stares back at him, chin lifted high even as it trembles. There are no chants like before, no desire to speak to Hugin. Maybe, he thinks, eyes flickering to Hugin, who stares back at him. Sirius turns back to her, how she trembles and shakes and curiously there is still no failsafe. The leader’s hand on her is gone yet she still remains. Why was she still alive? If she won’t answer anything, why is she still breathing when the other’s in holding cells blew themselves up? 

Sirius hums in understanding, amused when a flicker of confused derision sparks across her gaze. 

“Ah. Let me guess… a long line of rejects that likely ends with you.” Sirius states evenly. “Hm but still a failure?”

Her silence is deafening, mouth twisting in discomfort. 

“Alright.” Sirius says plainly. “You don’t have whatever obliteration bullshit this lot has going on. Guess your daddy won’t be busting you out of Azkaban either. You may not have drawn your wand at a lord of an imperial house but the people you came with did. Not to mention the two ministry workers y'all just attacked. Child or not you’re going to Azkaban.”

Her mouth trembles, fear spreading across her tiny face.

“Who are you?” Sirius asks. 

“Why haven’t you killed me?” She snaps back, so young, so confused.  

“Sirius.” Hadrian’s voice rings out. The girl startles badly.

Sirius glances over his shoulder to see Hadrian striding towards him, gaze flickering over the bound bodies. He looks especially delicious in his uniform, as he always does, but Sirius supposes he’s just a thirsty bitch. Hugin laughs, sounding a bit like a deranged hyena and Sirius levels him with a look. Hadrian sends Sirius an amused, questioning glance, nodding to the bound bodies. Sirius inclines his head. Hadrian waves a lazy hand and the bodies are gone with multiple, mutilated hands dragging them through an empty darkness. He moves to stand beside Sirius, eyes narrowing at the girl, who looks between them rapidly, paling. 

“This is a child.” Hadrian says bluntly.

Sirius nods. 

Hadrian’s jaw clenches, accepting Hugin’s large head when he demands pets. “How despicable. She still needs to be processed.” 

“I’ll take her in.” Sirius says.

Both of their gazes snap to him, surprise on Hadrian’s part, a terrible fear on hers. Hadrian takes another long look at her, expression clearing with understanding. He gently squeezes Sirius’ elbow, reassuring.

“Talk it over with Moody.”

“Yessir.” Sirius sniffs. 

“W-Wait.” The girl panics, eyes wild and frightened. “You can’t-”

“Ah, careful, cousin.” Sirius grins. “What is the price of failure with your lot? If I hadn’t taken what he shared with you, you’d be dead. Same as Roshan and that other fuck he sent after me.”

“You killed them!” She shouts, tears streaming down her face.

Sirius’ expression softens. “Is that what he told you? Would you like the memory that says otherwise? I held Roshan’s hand as your daddy sapped him of his lifeforce, watched the life leave his eyes.”

Her expression goes pale with shock. 

Hadrian flicks his fingers, fury rippling across his features. “The more I interact with your hasbeen line, the more pissed I get.”

“Mhm.” Sirius agrees easily. “Sounds like someone failed their initiation. Don’t think daddy would be happy with this.” 

“I-I haven’t! He’d forgive me! I can still prove myself!” The girl shouts, voice shaking. 

“You cost him a piece of his magic.” Sirius hums, watching how she clamps shut at his words, eyes wide with despair, and at long last, the tears begin to fall freely. Her expression crumples, knees buckling beneath her, and Sirius nods to Hugin, who releases her. She slumps to the ground, arms wrapped around her head, quiet sobs ringing through the air. 

“What is your plan here?” Hadrian asks quietly. 

“Her blood won’t be on my conscience.” Sirius looks at him. “Let me bring her home.”

Hadrian studies him for a long moment, jaw working slowly. “If she touches you, I will put her in the ground myself.”

Sirius inclines his head.

Hadrian sends a long look at the girl quietly weeping in front of them. He turns back to Sirius, deadpanning. “She’s too thin.”

“I know.” Sirius gasps, opening his arms for Hugin to press his large head into his chest. “I was just thinking the same thing. What do you think, Hugs?”

Hugin grunts, accepting a pleasant head scratch from Hadrian before bullying his way into Sirius’ arms. Sirius laughs. This may be the fucking dumbest thing he’s ever done but damn, he could relate to her. So young and already set up to fail. He wonders if her parents truly hated her this much, if she really was just a failure. Sirius waves a hand and they are back on the streets of Perpen Alley, Aurors littering the streets. Moody grunts when he notices them, clamoring his way over. His head rears sharply when he notices the sobbing girl, confused.

“What’s this then?”

“My ward.” Sirius bats his eyelashes at him. “Who do I need to sprinkle money at to make this happen?”

Moody laughs, startled, and it transforms his face completely. He must realize Sirius is, well, serious because he opens his mouth to argue then pauses, watching as Aurors gently bring the girl to her feet, eyes flashing with recognition. Moody looks at Sirius, who nods minutely. Sirius can’t tell if he’s approving or not but the gruff, “we’ll see” is tentative enough. The girl looks resigned, handcuffed, cheeks stained with tears but she does look at Sirius once more before they’re gone with a pop. 

“For the love of fuck, I swear I’m fine.” James whines, batting a healer’s hands away from him. He hurries over to them before she can snatch him back, ducking behind Sirius, which is comical considering he had three inches on him. Sirius sighs deeply, shaking his head when a healer approaches him. He does notice Elias speaking with Tennison but the threatening look sent Sirius’ way displays that he will be getting chastised soon. Sirius sulks.

“No casualties. No injuries either amongst bystanders.” Moody huffs, sending Hadrian a scrutinizing look. “You sure about this?”

Hadrian shrugs lazily. “Not my first homicide if it doesn’t go well. You know my temper, Alastor.”

Moody snorts deeply, amused.

“If what doesn’t?” James asks, still hiding behind Sirius. 

“Riri is adopting a child.”

“From a cult?!” James spins Sirius around, rising to his full height, and gently shakes him. “Pads.”

“You’re making a scene.” Sirius hisses, bonking him on the head. “We will discuss this at home.”

James goes red with outrage and Sirius bonks him again, his stare pleading. James’ mouth twists, eyes flicking rapidly over his face, and he slumps, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. “If she so much as looks-”

“Prongs, my deer, my first love.” Sirius shakes him. “At. Home.”

James points a threatening finger at him and Hadrian snorts in amusement. Sirius turns to Moody, sighing heavily. “Do you need a statement today?”

Moody shakes his head. “I got Warrington’s and Potter’s. Pretty cut and dry. You can give me yours once I got the girl processed. Where’d you put the rest?”

“Holding cell 17.” Hadrian tells him. 

Moody grunts, motioning for the remaining Aurors. “You pressin’ charges le Fay?”

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t want to press charges against her but the rest, have at it. I doubt any of them will survive.”

Moody sends him a look. “And she will?”

“She expected me to kill her if she didn’t succeed so I’m only assuming here.” Sirius tells him.

James makes a wounded noise. He whispers, “What the fuck.”

Elias is incredibly unimpressed when he gets his hands on Sirius and the level of concern this man rises to warms Sirius’ heart even if he is severely chastised for the tomfoolery. A total of 24 are arrested, including the little girl. Sirius is already making plans to see if he can visit her tomorrow after his shift. Azkaban was no place for a child. Sirius feels like his mother may be pissed with this revelation but he can safely tell her that the little girl did not try his life.

Yes, that’s good, Sirius thinks. He notices Roderick and pales at the murderous look sent his way.

Hadrian leans down to whisper in his ear, “Someone’s in trouble and it doesn’t even include the chastisement you’re going to get from me.”

Sirius sulks. 

Notes:

wah waaaaah. think I mentioned in a comment that they would be getting a baby but I feel like this was transparent that we all knew Siri was about to snatch this child up. Bad parent? Smol? Tiny with big feelings? Trying to be useful to said bad Parent? nomnomnom match made in hell

Additionally! I have the next chapter finally redone but I wrote it twice. As we know Sirius can change his appearance to anything... anything. I don't know how to make italics happen here and I'm not too pressed so I guess do yall want normal regular mlm smut ooooor we can see if a contraceptive spell is enough to stop a breeding kink >:3c

I don't mind either way but I also wanted to ask because I know this maaay not be up everyone's alley. I'm nonbinary so I personally don't give af like truly will not be mad either way.

oh and merry chrysler if that's your thing

Chapter 39: Little Lion Mage

Summary:

Sirius talks with several people, including a little mage.

Notes:

Tws, implied bad parenting, implied cult behavior, consensual body modification, mmmmm talks of disownment. That's it I believe

- Sirius vs the Ministry
- a Wild Tennison appears
- A scorched star vs a lion
- Sirius officially over the offset group
- Hadrian officially over Sirius (he's not, hes smitten and a fool)
- Crowe is suffering

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Her name is Arlette. No family name.” Tennison states, arms folded tight across his chest. His eyes are locked on the clear glass panel before him with the girl, Arlette, miserably curled in the corner of a cell. He turns back to Sirius, jaw locked to one side. “She won’t talk but she is alive like you guessed.”

“The rest?” Sirius asks, already knowing the answer.

Tennison sends him a knowing look. “She just passed her 11th birthday.”

“11?” Sirius’ gaze snaps to him, hands curling into fists. “What the fuck. She is a child.”

Tennison nods sagely. “We’ve opened an investigation. Her age makes things complicated. We ran her wand. Stunners and one dark curse that doesn’t even have a name. The rest we brought in with her were… significantly older. No one has come forward either. I’ve got her medical report here.”

Tennison nods to a massive stack of scrolls. “I wouldn’t recommend reading it even if I could let you see it. It’s not good. Whoever these people are, they aren’t good, even without the additional crimes and the separate attacks on your life.”

Sirius swallows hard. “Can I talk to her?”

“Figured you’d ask.” Tennison sniffs. “I can give you an hour. Moody said you wanted her.”

“Not like anyone else does.” Sirius quips.

Tennison snorts in amusement, waving his hand, and the glass flickers subtly to reveal an opening. “She’s got cuffs on in case she tries anything.”

Sirius inclines his head, moving through the narrow entry that zips closed behind him. There is a simple metal chair that appears directly in front of the cell. Sirius sits slowly, studying the way Arlette curls tighter into her ball with a sniffle. Azkaban was no place for a child even without the Dementors on this level.

“Did you know that in french Arlette means lion of god?” Sirius asks quietly, clocking the minute way her shoulders slump. “It can have multiple meanings that trace back to the name Herleva. Army, army legacy seems a bit… meh, boring, but there is also noble warrior derived from the name Arlet.” 

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Arlette mutters. 

“Names always mean something, silly.” Sirius counters smoothly.

Arlette finally looks at him, hunched and small. She sniffs wetly. “What does your name mean then?”

“It's the brightest star in the Orion constellation. It means glowing.” Sirius meets her gaze. “It also means scorching. It is the dog star. The first called to the hunt. The last predator in the sky.” 

“..I don’t know anything about the stars.” Arlette admits quietly. 

Sirius conjures a mimic of his constellation, his father’s constellation. He spreads it along the room, each star blinking brilliantly but they are no match for the gleam of Sirius. It winks and sparkles. Arlette straightens slowly, wiping her face with the thin sleeves of her uniform. Her cuffs clink quietly. 

“I’ve already shown Hugin so he won’t get jealous.” Sirius sniffs, drawing his fingers along the image. “There are many ways to interpret his story but I’ll tell it as my father told me. There once was a hunter, the son of Poseidon, who worked as a hunter for a great king. He fell in love with her daughter and was exiled after drunkenly breaking into her room. He was punished for this offense and blinded.”

Sirius swallows hard. “Orion was a proud man who went on to hunt with Artemis after his sight was returned by Hephaestus. His boastful pride would be his downfall and in death, Zeus turned him into the very constellation you see here, forever cursed to flee the very thing that killed him, a scorpion.”

“He doesn’t die in every story. In some he’s revived, in some he doesn’t die at all, left to stand midway between the Scorpion and the Hunter in the night sky. For me, he dies from his pride as my father did.” Sirius finishes, staring longingly at the constellation before dismissing the image completely. 

“You said Hugin.” Arlette says quietly. “Is that his name? The Shrouded One?”

“Yes.” Sirius tells her. “He’s my bird. He’ll stay my bird until we die.” 

“You aren’t anything like he said you’d be.” Arlette looks down at her hands. Her words are a near replica of Roshan. “I don’t understand why you’re not.” 

Sirius laughs. “I’m usually not. I’m just here.”

Arlette doesn’t respond, peering up at him again with her strange mismatched eyes. Her eyes water and she looks away, sniffling quietly, as her lips tremble. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Why did he send you?” Sirius asks. 

“I needed to pull my weight after my brothers passed.” Arlette admits. “Why are you now coming out of hiding? The le Fay have been gone for so long.”

“I was disowned.” Sirius says and Arlette’s head snaps up, shocked. His lips twitch upwards. “What? This is all very new to me as well. I didn’t know I was a le Fay until a few months ago.”

“Is that why you destroyed the house of Black?” Arlette asks.

“It's one of the reasons.” Sirius responds. “You have my mother’s eyes but you aren’t quite a le Fay.”

Arlette slowly shakes her head. “We don’t associate with our roots. It's wrong. The magic deserves to be free.”

How curious. Sirius sits back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “Is that what the magic wants?”

“I-I don’t know.” Arlette answers quietly. “It's what he said.”

“Do you know why I am the last?” Sirius asks. Arlette shakes her head. “Because there were numerous of le Fay that attempted to do what your sect is after. Hugin does not want to be freed. He does not want to be apart from us.”

“How do you know?” Arlette asks, peering at him.

“I asked. He answered. He asked. I answered.” Sirius tells her. This was a simpler way of describing what happened in the training room with Peter, how the acceptance of his request went deeper than anything he could’ve ever asked for. “My line was punished enough with their denial of him when he didn’t want that especially after everything that happened.” 

“I don’t understand.” Arlette whispers. “That.. that doesn’t make sense. The Shrouded One wants to be free-”

“How would you know that when none of you have access to him? At least not full access. You had a severed part and it wasn’t even yours.” Sirius interrupts smoothly. He leans forward. “I had a block on my magic since I was young. He has been locked away for almost 19 years of my life. If he wanted to be free, why did he stay? If he wanted to be free, why did he save me? Why has he continued to save his container if he wishes to be apart from it?”

Arlette looks lost, slumping onto her side, hands pushed out in front of her. There is a soft zipping noise, signaling their time is up and Sirius pushes to his feet, glancing back at the opening. When he turns back, Arlette is stumbling to her feet, eyes wide and wild. 

“Will you come back?” She asks pleadingly. 

Sirius blinks, surprised. “If that’s what you want.”

Her voice breaks, “Please.” 

“Alright, little mage.” Sirius responds soothingly. “I have work tomorrow. I’ll see if they’ll let me see you after.”

Arlette slumps in relief, furiously blinking back tears. She doesn’t say anymore and when the doorway closes behind him, Sirius sees how she sinks to her knees, face buried into the floor as she sobs silently. How fucking shitty, Sirius thinks. Tennison appears distressed with such a display of emotion, mouth twisting to the side. Crowe is with him as is Hadrian, both watching quietly. 

“You got more out of her than we did.” Tennison comments, turning away. “I can escalate this to Rufus.”

“We don’t have enough information.” Crowe sniffs, tilting his head. “Guess that shouldn’t matter.”

“Lovegood may be able to find more out.” Hadrian comments. “I won’t have time.”

Crowe hums thoughtfully. “He’s skilled enough if things get weird. Hmmm, I’ll talk to Rufus with you, Tennison.” 

“I could help Barty.” Sirius suggests.

“You’re too close.” Hadrian states firmly. “It may be what they’re wanting.”

“Definitely shitty use of emotional warfare.” Crowe comments. 

“They will likely come for her.” Tennison says, turning back to Arlette. “A weak link.”

Sirius bristles. “She’s just a…” He slumps, chewing the inside of his lip. Sirius turns away from their sympathetic looks, swallowing hard. He understands, he does. What a shitty fucking year. Sirius looks back at Arlette, who is slowly pulling herself back to her corner, how tightly she curls into herself, and wants these people, this man dead and rotting. Hugin churns wildly in agreement.

Sirius looks away, steeling himself. How many more children were there that they would use as fodder? As long as this man existed, as long as Sirius existed at the same time, he would continue to breed for the purpose of hunting him down. Coward, he thinks furiously.

“May I see her tomorrow?” Sirius asks. 

Tennison nods, waving a lazy hand. “Like I said, you got more out of her than us.”

Hadrian tilts his head towards the doorway leading back to the Ministry. Sirius glances at Crowe, who shrugs, grinning. Sirius huffs, following Hadrian outside. He doesn’t know where they’re going or if they’re leaving completely. Granted, Sirius didn’t have a reason to be here currently since his mission of talking to Arlette was successful. Hadrian drags him seamlessly through a shadowed door and they’re in the office Crowe forced upon Hadrian. Sirius blinks, then frowns, then blinks some more, glancing back at the decorated wall behind him. Oh, I’m on here too, he thinks, a bit surprised. 

“You’ve been plotting but you won’t say. What is it?” Hadrian asks, drawing Sirius’ attention. 

“Are you psychic?” Sirius asks, thrown. 

Hadrian rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I knew you wouldn’t say it there.”

“Well, maybe you’re a snitch, then what?” Sirius counters easily.

Hadrian lifts an eyebrow at him, offended.

“Ok, ok. You’re not but fuck, give a man a moment to exist.” Sirius snips. He slumps, “I know how he’s hunting me.”

Hadrian blinks, surprised, then his expression goes thunderous, “How?”

“The strand.” Sirius replies. “It's calling for me. I took the strand from him-”

“You did what?” Hadrian asks dangerously. 

“Baby,” Sirius rubs his face. “How else would she have lived? She is a child, Hadrian.” 

Hadrian regards him, jaw clenched tight. His body is tense, wound up so much that Sirius can physically see it. Hadrian looks away, slowly working his jaw, and Sirius steps into his space, gently taking his hand. He watches Hadrian mull over his words, evidently upset which wasn’t Sirius’ intention. He understands there could have potentially been complications with taking the miniscule strand left behind but Sirius was confident they had more sway over the leader. Hadrian slowly turns back to him, intertwining their fingers together, and Sirius slumps in relief. 

“You plan on hunting him yourself.” Hadrian states evenly. 

Sirius winces, “I promise I’ll wait until Art knows more but that is my plan.” 

Hadrian’s jaw ticks, “If you don’t tell Roderick, I will.”

“I can do that.” Sirius promises, searching Hadrian’s expression. “This was a calculated risk but I was certain that it would work in my favorite. I overrode him in Horizont Alley. The strands wants to be with us.” 

“This is a dangerous game.” Hadrian responds slowly. “He is still a container for what remains. I don’t think it will surrender as easily as you want. Consider how long its been separate and how possessive Hugin is of you. The strand is sentient and it has had centuries being fed the hatred these people feel towards your line.” 

Sirius swallows hard, “I know that.”

Hadrian slumps, pinching the bridge of his nose, and makes a frustrated noise, “I understand where you’re coming from, I do, but you need to exercise caution. Even if some part of it wants to be reunited, it may not actually want to. At least not with you.”

“I know.” Sirius says quietly. “I’ve considered that as well.”

Hadrian looks at him, deadpanning, “You are incredibly stressful.”

Sirius pouts, “At least I’m not ugly. Then you’d be stressed and have nothing to look at.”

“Lucky me.” Hadrian mutters, tugging Sirius into his arms. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“I will do nothing dumb of the cult variety.” Sirius chirps. “Everything else is fair game. I also made you lunches.”

Hadrian laughs, startled, “Why?”

“So you can think of me.” Sirius sniffs. 

“I do that already.” Hadrian replies, sliding his hand along Sirius’ spine. “Troubling you think I don’t.”

Sirius peers up at him, “I figured but I didn’t wanna be overconfident.”

“You should be when it comes to my feelings for you.” Hadrian presses a soft kiss to his temple. 

Sirius’ heart flips. What a curious set of months. While he had expressed concerns to Marlene that he didn’t want Hadrian to feel like he was a rebound or whatever for the harrowing end of his last relationship, Hadrian was just so confident in his place in Sirius’ life and his own worth in comparison to Remus. Granted, Hadrian had proved so far to be everything Remus wasn’t but Hadrian also wanted to be with him, which was perplexing and scary. The only thing the two had in common was their possessive attitudes towards him but Hadrian seemed genuine. 

“Of course I am.” Hadrian sniffs, caging Sirius against his desk. 

“Are you a legilimens?” Sirius asks, awed. 

“I am but you’re just obvious.” Hadrian replies easily.

Sirius stares at Hadrian for a long, quiet moment, watching him watch him. He doesn’t hesitate in reaching out and Hadrian pushes into his space, palms sliding along his hips, his ribs and Sirius tips forward, meeting Hadrian in the middle and they’re kissing. While getting split open was a happy occurrence, Sirius finds he has never loved kissing anyone more than he loves kissing Hadrian, how his tongue feels against his own, the way he always seems to taste like tea, mouth so warm and perfect. He easily topped anyone Sirius had ever been with, in how he touches, kisses, how he slides a knee right between Sirius’ legs and Sirius shudders, pushing his hands under Hadrian’s turtleneck.

“Shit. We can’t do this here.” Hadrian laughs but still he kisses Sirius again when he tilts his head up. 

“I will be so quiet.” Sirius whispers, earning another laugh. “The most quiet. I’d be a whisper on the wind. Although, I don’t think you’ll be able to cum inside me.”

Hadrian’s eyebrows shoot up and he almost looks offended, which causes Sirius to laugh. He gently takes Hadrian’s hand and guides it to his crotch and presses into it. Hadrian looks down, awed, the slightest glimmer of color on his cheeks. Sirius tilts his head, “Still a no?”

“This is cheating.” Hadrian glowers at him, running his finger along the seam of Sirius’ pants and he shivers, feeling his body flush with strange warmth. Oh, I’m wet, Sirius thinks, a bit crazed because wow, that feels so much different than when he’d get hard. 

“When we get home, you’re going to ride my face and then I’ll ruin that pretty cunt of yours.” Hadrian promises, kissing him so deep and filthy that Sirius is sure his brain just melted out of him. Wow. Wow! 

Sirius sways, enamored, “Do you wanna get married?”

Hadrian’s face goes an alarming shade of red and really Sirius must start keeping tallies of this because wow, what a visual. He glares at Sirius, stepping away, but Sirius snags his hand with a grin, fluttering his lashes. Hadrian glowers at him then sulks, looking away with red ears, “I have something for you.”

Sirius must resist his glee. “Do you now?”

“Yes.” Hadrian responds. “It’ll have to wait until I return.” 

“I’d say that’s like a month away but I’d rather it be a month than you being a dumb banana.” Sirius comments. “My dumb banana room has yet to be used.”

“Mm, it has.” Hadrian snorts, turning. “Just not how you wanted.”

Sirius glares at him, blushing. “Suppose it still makes sense if you’re still the banana.”

“Doesn’t it?” Hadrian chirps.

The office door pops open and Crowe pokes his head in. His eyes are closed then one cracks open. He sighs, relieved, “Definitely thought I’d catch you two fucking then I’d have to tell my wife so I don’t have to berate alone.”

Hadrian sends Sirius a look, smug. 

Sirius ignores him, “We are incredibly innocent and can do no wrong.”

“Almost exactly what bullshit Lovegood tried to tell me when I found him balls deep inside that wife of his and then a separate time with his husband..” Crowe snorts heavily, pushing inside. He closes the door behind him, leaning against it heavily. “Tell me about this.. cult leader. This whole situation has Rufus in a right tizzy.”

“I had a working suspicion prior but after speaking with Hadrian’s… uncle,” Sirius starts carefully, catching Crowe’s knowing gaze. Well, Crowe did say that Hadrian didn’t keep shit from him. “After talking with Death, he said there was a disownment in the le Fay. I’m positive he comes from that line. They also have a Hugin but it isn’t quite the same.”

Crowe blinks. “Suppose that makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like you before but the magic is sentient so naturally a disownment would split it apart at the seams. This might also be why they’re still thriving. Disownments typically end in death.”

Sirius nods, “That’s what I was thinking as well.”

Crowe hums, thoughtful. “Why didn’t the girl die? She hasn’t exploded either or whatever.”

“She isn’t able to do it because he was monitoring and she’s alive because…I took the strand he was using to monitor.” Sirius admits.

Crowe’s expression turns thunderous. “Sirius.”

“I’m saying.” Hadrian mutters.

“I know. I know.” Sirius sighs. “She’s just so young. It’s not her fault her dad’s a psychopath.”

Crowe scrubs his face roughly, “I get that. Just. Shit. How fucking heavy.”

Hadrian makes an agreeing noise. 

“Will Tennison be able to release her?” Sirius asks.

“‘s not his call. It’s Rufus’.” Crowe tells him, shifting his weight. “I’ll see what he wants. You not pressing charges makes it beneficial but her age makes it all complicated. That fact that she didn’t physically try to harm you was something done in her favor if I’m honest. Might take some time.”

“Could recommend house arrest in the meantime. If Tennison’s predictions are correct, which I highly doubt they aren’t, she may not make it through the month. Likely sooner.” Hadrian comments. “If the monitor is gone, she may be able to offer insight.”

Sirius looks at him, “Wouldn’t there still be a confundus charm?”

“Possibly. Depends on how this dumbass works.” Hadrian answers dryly. “If voice isn’t an option, her memories may have clues about where the fuck they stay at.” 

Crowe perks up at this, “I’ll suggest that. You still want her? Can probably hand her over late next week.”

Sirius nods, “Not like she has anyone else batting for her.”

Crowe’s expression softens. He laughs, “So weird. I said the same exact shit to Denise about Imani. Granted, little brat did try to kill me which made it a smidge complicated ehe to get custody of her. So cute.”

Hadrian snorts and Sirius balks. 

Notes:

i find it kinda funny that arlette means lion of god and regulus was the star of the leo constellation. Siri just can't escape the baby lions lmao

Originally Arlette was supposed to show up when.... Roshan had, like to replace Roshan, but she would've died and I'm not super fond of killing off female characters because of men /material gworl/ so I saved her.

Chapter 40: Interlude: A Moment

Summary:

Some filth, some relizations; a direct continuation of the last chapter

Notes:

It's mostly... sex. Vaginal sex, take that as you will, possible unrealistic sex (i disagree but who am i)

I have added a - and an additional paragraph break if you want to skip everything and drop into Sirius being insufferable and having feelings but you're also welcome to skip this chapter completely

- Sirius le Fay gets bonked
- then has big feelings
- then gets a nice bath
- and a Hades snuggle

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hadrian has Sirius pinned against his bedroom door almost as soon as they arrive home, his tongue in his mouth and clever fingers unbuttoning his pants. Sirius hums happily, lapping up the feeling like a possessed man. He had played the long game while they finished up their shift at the Ministry and of course, Hadrian would be leaving tomorrow so naturally Sirius must do his do diligence of being insufferable and giving him man additional reasons to come home. 

Sirius realizes he’s shaking, growing unbearably uncomfortable as Hadrian slowly, teasingly slips his hand inside the waistband of Sirius’ briefs. Perhaps he should’ve worn underwear but then Marlene would have a field day and he couldn’t take that amount of teasing, no matter how much dick this earned him. Well, he earns dick regardless but it is pleasant to know that regardless of whatever he has going on below the belt, Hadrian’s gaze did not leave him as it always did. 

“So wet already, Riri,” Hadrian’s teeth run along the curve of Sirius’ neck, a hand sliding along his ribs, and Sirius clutches him almost desperately, a pathetic noise spilling from his lips. Hadrian refuses to touch where Sirius wants, fingertipss brushing along his thighs, and Sirius quivers like some virgin. No, no, this is a common occurence, Sirius thinks, whimpering as bruises are sucked into his neck, the pad of an idex finger barely touching his folds as it brushes past him.

Sirius thinks he must be being punished for the audacity but hell, he didn’t think it would work. When he disguised himself as a teenager he still had a dick, granted it was very small and, dare he say, cute. Sirius could understand why people have certain fetishes but he hadn’t expected the magic to work. I should’ve left this shit alone, Sirius thinks, feeling like he’s about to come out of his skin and maybe actually shriek like Walburga used to.

“Fucking fuck. Please touch me.” Sirius whines.

“I am, sweetheart.” Hadrian hums, working a devastating hickie just under Sirius’ jawline.

Sirius whimpers, grasping Hadrian’s face to pull him up into a kiss. He will never do this again. Never before has he been so sticky and while he is incredibly happy his body is as eager for this as he is, he’s embarrassed. Perhaps because it is simply new to him. Hadrian chuckles against him, feeling how Sirius’ legs shake, how he tries to egg those fingers higher but his man was clearly the devil and Sirius was being punished for his audacity. 

“Baby, please, please, please.” Sirius moans, desperate for anything.  

Then Hadrian sinks to his knees, vanishing Sirius’ clothes in the process, and all thoughts are aptly swept away like the wind. Hadrian spreads his legs so easily, kneeling before him with such a dark gaze that it makes Sirius feel a bit faint. Hadrian dips forward to nip at Sirius’ thighs, unbothered how they tremble, tongue following after his hands, and Sirius may well shriek. He’s so warm it’s indescribable, watching Hadrian move between his legs before finally, finally he touches where Sirius wants. Sirius nearly regrets this decision because holy shit. 

Hadrian sucks at the skin around his lips, moving downward, and shuffles Sirius’ legs wider then ultimately decides to lift him onto his shoulders. Wow, a whole man, Sirius thinks dazed, shivering at the soft breath sliding over him, how two fingers spread his folds open and Sirius’ face goes pink. Hadrian prods gently at his hole, tongue lapping at his clit, and Sirius bucks with a whine, earning a quiet laugh. The devil. My boyfriend is the devi- A moan is ripped out of him when lips close around his clit just as two fingers push inside him. 

God, that’s so weird, Sirius whimpers, bucking his hips and Hadrian groans in approval, fingers spreading and stroking so fucking confidently and then he finds this spot so easy that Sirius almost weeps. His hands immediately sinks into Hadrian’s hair, arching into his mouth as his entire body lights up. Sirius digs his calves into Hadrian’s back, urging him closer so he can grind that stupid, beautiful, handsome face and Hadrian concedes easily, tongue working inside with his finger as they begin to pump inside him, nose nudging his clit and Sirius chokes, unsure if he wanted to gasp or moan, shaking badly. 

It is a well know fact that Sirius loves giving head and only recently does he love when it’s reciprocated but holyfuckingshitomgomg omg, Sirius feels like he’s wailing, or maybe he is actually wailing, his stomach hot and it feels like he’s leaking with how high his heart ramps up, working against Hadrian’s ministrations until it feels like he’s spiraling. Sirius’ voice breaks as his orgasm smacks into him like a wrecking ball of sorts. In turn, his body twitches, pulse raging in his ears as he dully listens to the wet sounds of Hadrian slurping him up greedily.

Wow, a man, Sirius thinks. Maybe he’s cracked his fucking head open. God. God. His legs shake when Hadrian lets him down but he’s also there to hold him upright, licking his lips in a way that makes Sirius’ stomach clench. Sirius pulls him down into a kiss, tasting himself on his tongue, and works Hadrian’s pants open. Hadrian is stiff and leaking in his hand and it makes Sirius feel nearly feral in delight. “Enjoy yourself, huh?”

“You always taste fantastic. I don’t know what to do with myself.” Hadrian replies easily. “I used a contraceptive spell. Lemme fuck you against the wall.”

Sirius sways, “Whatever you want.” 

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting Hadrian to lift him once more but he feels too lost to care. Sirius feels strangely vulnerable, likely because this oddly feels like losing his virginity all over again. Hadrian cups his face gently as Sirius wraps his legs around his waist and kisses him, so soft and sweet that Sirius can’t help but melt against him. He slides a hand into Hadrian’s hair, pressing their foreheads together as Hadrian guides his cock inside. It is incredibly strange to take a cock this way but Sirius is used to the oversensitivity with how Hadrian works as an individual.

Sirius simply enjoys being wrung out like a sponge and then the heavy naps wrapped up in Hadrian’s arms that come after. Hadrian strokes the underside of his thighs as he pulls him down slowly, eyes searching Sirius’ face. Sirius realizes he’s making incredibly tiny sounds while adjusting and leans up to kiss him, feeling the pleased little sigh this action invokes. An agonizingly slow moment later and Hadrian is fully inside him. God, this stupid dick, Sirius thinks, relaxing at the quiet words Hadrian whispers against him. I’ve got you. Such a good boy.

Anything, anything, Sirius wants to say but he can’t find his voice, shivering when Hadrian begins to move slowly, so slowly. Sirius wishes they could stay like this forever, wishes he could always have Hadrian against him, be in his arms, have his face tucked into his neck. This angle is everything but hell, Sirius says that shit all the time. Perhaps he was just broken, perhaps he was just gone for Hadrian. 

“Fuck. You are perfect, sweetheart.” Hadrian sighs, fingers curling tight along Sirius’ thighs. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Sirius’ heart skips a beat and dreadfully, he blushes then laughs softly, “Don’t say that.”

“You are everything.” Hadrian promises or maybe it sounds like a promise, feels like one when he kisses him, hips beginning to move at a devastating pace and they’re pressed so tight together that Sirius can feel his pelvis bumping his clit with every thrust. Hadrian shifts slightly, surging up hard and Sirius keens, wrapping his arms tight around Hadrian’s neck. 

“Fuck. The sounds you make,” Hadrian chuckles darkly in his ear, his hands nearly bruising on Sirius’ skin and he hopes they bruise, prays they bruise. Sirius doesn’t know why he’s like this, wants every part of Hadrian with him until the very sun explodes, and that’s so weird and strange and- Oh, I’m in love, Sirius thinks, haphazard and wild and how fucking terrifying. He grinds his teeth hard to prevent himself from saying such embarassing things out loud, his mind scrambled as Hadrian thrusts into him and wait. What was he thinking about? Yolo, he thinks, digging his teeth right in the meat of his shoulder as he cums and Hadrian shudders against him with a snarling noise that zips up his spine like lightning. 

“Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.” Hadrian groans and Sirius clamps hard around him, like he wants to milk the very sounds out of him and Hadrian spills so deep inside that Sirius swears he can feel it in his throat. Sirius sags, drooling heavily, and he feels a bit stupid. Hadrian cradles him close, slowly sinking to his knees. Sirius makes an approving noise, eyelids drooping as exhaustion crashes into him. He presses his face into Hadrian’s neck, sighing when hands slide along his hips then up his spine. That feels so nice, Sirius thinks. 

“Keep going.” Sirius hums. 

“Oh?” Hadrian purrs, shuffling Sirius against the door. “Somethin’ you want to ask for?”

“Something you want, Hades?” Sirius coos, feeling a bit haphazard with Hadrian twitching inside him, how his pupils dilate. He dips forward, sliding his hands along Hadrian’s back as he presses a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, neck, practically vibrating in his skin when Hadrian shudders against him, hands sliding along his thighs to grasp his ass.

“You’re a menace.” Hadrian positions Sirius against the door and really, Sirius is incredibly pleased he’s flexible enough because younger him would not he able to have his legs over these arms while not having anything to hold onto. Hadrian holds him easily, pushing to his knees, and Sirius sees white. He chokes, grasping Hadrian’s forearm as he begins to move and Sirius thinks he should’ve kept his mouth shut and done zero goading because this pace feels punishing. He can’t stop the litany of swears that tumble from his lips, feeling spongey and strange and he knows he must look a mess but Hadrian just looks at him like he is everything.

Sirius manages a laugh, “I hope it was a good contraceptive spell.”

“Should I- ah, fuck, dismiss it?” Hadrian kisses him before Sirius can answer and he melts against him, threading his fingers through the short hair along his nape. Then the words hit and Sirius flushes deeply, a bit thrilled but mostly terrified because wow, he’d make a terrible father. No babies, Sirius thinks, listening to the filthy slap of Hadrian’s hips against his ass and really they should stay together forever because Sirius couldn’t imagine not having this dick for the rest of his life and the man attached to it. Too soon, Sirius thinks, whimpering when Hadrian grinds inside him, and his legs lock tightly, suddenly feeling his orgasm crash into him like a freight train.

“Perfect boy.” Hadrian coos.

“Cum inside me.” Sirius breathes, trembling and dazed as he searches for Hadrian’s mouth. Hadrian corrects him immediately, pressing hard into Sirius’ space as his cock gives a heavy twitch then spurts inside him. Sirius sighs, happy and like some lovesick fool. He feels incredibly worn out, panting softly with his forehead against Hadrian’s chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart. Sirius is now realizing he’s naked while Hadrian is fully clothed and really this has just been an experience.  

When Hadrian sits Sirius down fully in his lap, it is with a thick squelch that he doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed about.

 

-

 

“Talk to me.” Hadrian murmurs. 

“Brain leaking.” Sirius manages. “Spongey boy.”

Hadrian laughs, startled. “How are you feeling?”

“M’good.” Sirius nods dumbly. 

“Would you like a shower?”

Sirius would rather die than stand in a shower right now. He makes a pitiful noise.

Hadrian chuckles as if hearing these thoughts, “A bath then.”

Wow, what a splendid idea. Sirius nods again, mourning the moment Hadrian slips out of him but he is gathered into a strong chest which is blissful. What a great day. He feels a cleaning spell slide over him, which is grand, because Sirius feels incredibly boneless, essentially dead weight at this point, but Hadrian doesn’t seem to mind, never minds if Sirius is honest and it makes him contemplate where the fuck this man has been all his life. In the back of mind, Sirius thinks. Away on missions. He doesn’t think Hadrian would entertain him even if they did have a more fluid accord when he was younger. In fact that would likely give Big Potter a reason to stay well clear of him. Can’t have that, he thinks, mentally patting himself on the back for persevering and not forcing his way into Hadrian’s life any sooner than he did.

Sirius can faintly hear his bath running but is distracted by Hadrian encouraging him to tip his head back so he can guzzle this water like some uncouth bitch. That is sensational, he thinks, happy, and is incredibly pleased when Hadrian joins him in the tub. The water’s heat is so inviting and it purples with a heady aroma of amber, sandalwood, and a hint of cinnamon. Sirius sinks back onto Hadrian’s chest with a sigh, inhaling deeply, and grumbles, a bit like a dog, when arms slide around him. 

Hadrian waves a lazy hand and a resin tray appears, filled with a delicate fruit bowl and a few cuts of meat and cheese. Another water bottle also appears. Oh, yes, Sirius is in love. Stop, he thinks wildly. New relationship. Chill the fuck out. Sirius nods to himself and Hadrian laughs. Sirius turns, “I’m having a moment.”

“I can see that.” Hadrian responds, eyes glittering in amusement. 

Sirius hesitates, then asks, “Did you mean what you said?”

“Which part?” Hadrian gently moves a strand of hair from Sirius’ forehead. 

Sirius swallows, “That I’m everything?”

“Yes.” Hadrian says without hesitation. 

Sirius sinks against his chest, searching his face but that pale gaze remains unwavering. He tilts his head, “I have words. They’re hard.”

He’s incredibly scared because the last time he almost said such things, he was disowned and found himself single in the worst way possible. Sirius does not want to put Hadrian Potter in the same category as Remus Lupin but he is wary of things going south. Sirius understands that this is life and how things go but… god, this shit still hurts if he thinks real hard about it. Hugin was incredibly good about pushing all his anger away. Feeding my own fury, how funny, Sirius thinks. 

“I’m in no rush.” Hadrian says. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Sirius asks, a bit embarrassed by Hadrian’s certainty as he always is.

“Because you’re everything.”

“I’m really embarrassed.” Sirius blurts out. He puts himself back together remarkably. “If you keep this up, I’ll have to assume you really like me.”

Hadrian’s lips quirk and he gathers Sirius’ against his chest, sagging into the hot water, “Guess you’ll have to be embarrassed.”

“How terrible.” Sirius mutters, tucking his face into Hadrian’s neck. “Will… will you really wait?”

“No rush.” Hadrian repeats.

Notes:

this is incredibly short but I wanted to squeeze in some Hadrian before he goes away for the next two-ish chapters. He does have a job siiiigh and Sirius has not convinced him to be a stay at home husband yet

I meant to get the last two chapters out back to back but my birthday occurred and I was sufficiently swept up into tomfoolery

should have the next chapter out in the next couple of days. If I don't see you, I'll see you next year <3

Chapter 41: Doomsday

Summary:

Two rune idiots go on a mini mission

Notes:

Tws, there be violence but it's all vibes and fun times tbh, oh and gun violence

- A raven vs a little lion (notably not Regulus, we should check on him soon, will make a note)
- a wild Silas Vance appears
- make Siri and Hades daddies propaganda (alas, no sex srry ;-;)
- Sirius & Silas are about as chaotic as Barty & Sirius
- Silas should've been given the God's Arm nickname with his wicked pew pews
- Hugin being a little shit
- Gerald Rufus makes an appearance
- Roderick Crowe is a fiend and his boss encourages this behavior
- Dream team! Dream team!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Will you be gone for very long?” Arlette asks quietly, appearing a bit heartbroken that they will not be seeing each other as they have been doing for the last week. She doesn’t seem to be doing very well which breaks his heart but Tennison said he was allowed to bring the girl snacks so Sirius did. It was a slow trudge to get Arlette into his feverish hands but Sirius was certain that Roderick would make this miracle happen or he would quit his job and blow up the ministry. It didn’t feel like time was on their side but security was ramped up for her specifically.

Sirius finds that he does enjoy spending time with his little not Fay and would have numerous things to say about her in his letter to Hadrian, who may be coming home sooner than a month, which is great because it was bad enough this man would be missing Sirius’ birthday. 

“I doubt it.” Sirius sniffs. “I’m still just a recruit but Silas doesn’t usually do fieldwork for long periods so I imagine it’ll be super short.” He grins, “Why? You gonna miss me?”

Arlette’s face goes pink. She scoffs, “No.”

Sirius coos, pushing to his feet, “Keep your lies, little mage. I just wanted to say bye before I left. James is supposed to take my place if I’m gone longer than a day but meh, I’m hot shit.”

“Please be safe.” Arlette looks up at him with those big, earnest mismatched eyes and Sirius’ heart squeezes. 

“Solemnly swear.” Sirius crosses his heart, hearing the quiet zip of the opening appearing. “You better eat all of those bonbons. I stress made them so they’re extra sweet. Two are apricot but for the life of me I cannot remember which one. And you better eat.”

Arlette was still too thin and it was making Sirius stressed. She was so small for her age after comparing how she looks to how he looked at eleven.

“Yes, sir.” Arlette whispers, blushing softly. 

“Hey. None of that sir shit. I am young.” Sirius hisses, playful, and it earns a sweet, tiny laugh. He gives Arlette a merry wave before he slips out. Sirius is super grateful she doesn’t cry afterwards anymore but she does seem worried and troubled so Sirius will have to be on his best behavior and not be a dumb banana. He does want to show her Hugin soon beyond their initial harrowing meeting and he needs to be alive for that. 

Silas is waiting for him in the hall, casting a speculative glance to the narrow archway Sirius pops through. He lifts an eyebrow, “I didn’t believe little Captain when he said he was going to be a father soon.”

It takes monumental effort to keep his face level but his cheeks do warm, “What can I say? I have given him the gift of already sowed life. We don’t even have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for feedings. What’s the sitch, Si?”

“Bit complicated currently.” Silas sighs heavily, pushing off the wall. “Situation in a ritual site near the Valley of Aberthorne.”

Sirius blinks, “Isn’t that known for magical energy in general?”

“Yep.” Silas chirps. “Did you look over the briefing?”

Sirius nods slowly, crossing his arms. “Yeah but the original storm was nowhere near there.” 

He had thumbed through Silas’ thorough notes and while Sirius knows nothing about weather magic, he suspects this is something that might run deeper than a simple magical storm, but if they weren’t heading after the storm raging near Paris then Silas must’ve figured out the root. There were three storms occurring (Paris, Edinburg, and Newport), communications being affected but the muggles of the area were fine, which was one plus. 

The wixen, however, were not doing very well. There were details about spectral figures and sudden memory loss. No deaths yet but the storms were expanding unpredictably and for one, the Ministry did not drag their feet on this when the other countries demanded Silas’ expertise. Sirius was just glorified back up but he was thrilled to be tagging along because no other recruit could say they’ve already been on, now, three fucking missions. 

Silas appears gleeful, “I figured out where they’re coming from. Snip the root as they say. Still up for it?”

“Please don’t leave me here. I will cry.” Sirius sniffles.

Silas is alarmed by his words and drama. “Don’t do that. Little Captain is frightening enough even with his Betty Crocker shit going on.” 

“I’m going to tell him you said that.” Sirius chirps. “That’s so funny.”

Silas pales, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“Puh lease.” Sirius scoffs. “Hadrian is so soft on y’all. You just don’t realize how much of a hard ass he is because you’re all mighty morphed together now.”

Silas rolls his eyes, procuring a little fluffy sock. He gives Sirius a look when he snorts and beckons him over. Sirius takes the heel end of the sock, excited to be heading out, and they’re gone in a pop after Silas states the password. 

Sirius feels a bit grateful they’ve landed in a stone archway because the torrential downpour around them is positively terrible. He jumps at the harsh crack of lightning that ripples through the air, watching the storm loom over head like some malignant beast. There are flashes of energy twisting through the sky in flashes of green and violet. Silas is beside him adjusting the scope on his rifle and the rune etched across it glows hot, his expression grim as he surveys the chaos before them. Curiously, there is a small circle that dips directly in the center of the valley that is stark dry and glistening with sunlight. The grass pattern is strange, much shorter in some places, longer in others.

Sirius inhales slowly, wand curled tight in his hand, “There.”

“Yeah.” Silas mutters, adjusting his scope once more. A circular piece surges out and Silas’ expression ripples with intensity. “It’s spreading. There will be another storm soon. We’re running on borrowed time.”

Sirius tilts his head, curious, “What’s the protocol here? Are we fighting Zeus?”

“Not exactly. No worries. If it does come to blasting, I’ve got you covered.” Silas gives a dry laugh. He pats the gleaming barrel of his rifle, its runes glowing faintly in the storm’s eerie light. Sirius supposes that Silas is correct seeing as he had a wicked shot. They descend the ridge, the air turning heavy with every step. Static crackles around them causing Sirius’ hair to rise as he notices that the rain doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t quite look right either with how it oozes along his skin. Sirius follows Silas through the remnants of a magical barrier, shattered runes flickering weakly along a debris of rock and broken blades of grass. 

It almost seems… like an evacuation. The grass here is so tall and wet that now that they’re closer, Sirius can see overturned carts, abandoned wands, and scorch marks. He kneels to inspect a charred sigil, pushing wet hair out of his face as he tries to read what it was. Sirius can make out the curve of a circle but nothing more. A containment maybe? Sirius pushes to his feet, “Looks like they tried to contain it. Didin’t really stand a chance, huh?”

“No.” Silas replies, his voice grim. “This is deliberate. Someone’s behind this and they’ve got power to spare.”

Before Sirius can respond, a shriek splits the thunderous air. They whirl as one toward the sound as a shimmering figure emerges from the storm’s edge, bursting from that empty sliver of sun like a calamity. Its form flickering between humanoid and something monstrous. It surges towards them, features warped and indistinct, limbs stretching unnaturally. 

“Stay alert.” Silas barks, raising his rifle. A sharp crack echoes as he fires, a burst of golden light surging forward and lodges right into the figure’s chest. It seizes badly, fire bleeding from the wound, but it doesn’t fall, fed by a spark of lightning that comes tumbling down from above, its distorted face twisted up with rage.

Sirius steps forward, slashing through the air with his wand, and Hugin responds readily. A wave of blood red energy erupted from his hands, carving a jagged path through the storm. The creature howls as its struck, the force sending it skidding back into the roiling chaos, and SIlas follows up with another three quick concise shots. It dissolves.

“Wow, we fucking did that.” Sirius says, excited.

“Don’t get too cocky, rookie.” Silas smirks, lowering his rifle. “Nice hit. That was just a fragment of what we’re dealing with.”

The storm itself seems to react to the attack, its energy growing more volatile. Lightning crackles across the sky, the ground beneath them beginning to tremble. Sirius swears softly, stumbling a bit as he tries to steady himself. Silas reaches out to grab him, planting his feet firmly even as the earth roils and churns beneath them.

“The core’s just ahead. We have to neutralize it soon or there’ll be four cool craters in the earth.” 

“Don’t sound so excited.” Sirius laughs.

“I can’t help it.” Silas laughs as well. “No one else gets excited about Runes.”

“They are fun.” Sirius gasps, following Silas deeper into the storm’s heart. When they touch the sun patch, the landscape becomes increasingly surreal and strange. Hugin worms his way out, bristling in offense as gravity warps around them, pulling and twisting at odd angles. Echoes of voices fill the air, whispers of something ancient, primal, and it makes Sirius’ head ache. At the center is an obelisk. Its massive and stunning, the surface etched with glowing runes that pulse in time with each roar of thunder, each clap of lightning and Sirius can’t help but stare in awe. He doesn’t understand how they couldn’t see it before.

“That’s our source.” Silas says, his voice tight.

“And it’s got company.” Sirius mutters, glancing at the ground around the obelisk, how it’s littered with half formed ritual circles with faintly glowing circles. At the base of the structure stands a figure, cloaked in ratty robes, their hands raised as if channeling power into the storm. They turn toward them, revealing a face obscured by a mask of shifting patterns. 

“Intruders,” A woman’s voice hisses, echoing unnaturally. “You dare disrupt my work?”

Silas gives a lazy shrug, rifle raised, “Work’s over. Gotta shut this shit down.”

She laughs, a sound that makes Sirius’ skin crawl. “You think you can stop this? A folly of man indeed. The storm will consume you.”

With a flick of her wrist, she unleashes a wave of energy that tears through the ground. SIlas dives to the side, rolling into a crouch as he fires a shot that bounces off an invisible shield. Hugin had burst forth at the same time, crimson light carving through the shield and forcing the woman to stagger back.

“Focus on the obelisk, little Wraith!” Silas shouts, reloading his rifle. “I’ll handle our miss ma’am here.”

Sirius can only nod, a bit pissy at this continued use of the name, eyes narrowing as he focuses on the obelisk. The runes seem to writhe under his under his gaze, their patterns shifting in an attempt to confuse him. Hugin rears sharply, feathers closing over Sirius’ eyes, and everything sharpens. Destruction. Obliteration. Nature. Take the earth back, he thinks, slicing his palm in a quick motion. Blood drips onto the ground, magic surging in response and illuminates the path to the obelisk’s core. 

Sirius can hear the sounds of Silas’ rifle, the crask of spells, their battle a blur of light and sound as glyph enchanted bullets shatter the air. He’s doing a good job of keeping the woman on the defensive. Sirius hurries forward, listening the storm scream in response at his advancing. Its energy lashes out in a desperate frenzy but Hugin absorbs the energy easily, redirecting each clash towards the woman. Sirius presses his bloodied hand to the stone and Hugin surges through it in seach of the source. 

He leaves his bird to it, conjuring a shield as another burst fires his way. “He’s on it!”

“Splendid!” Silas calls back, sounding a bit delusional. “Oh, I hit her!” 

“Let’s gooo!” Sirius shouts, pricking his finger and flicks his wand out with two drops of blood. “Don’t move.”

“Can do!"

Electricity surges through the stone and the woman shrieks loudly in agony. Silas follows up with a shot, pinning her to ground with a deadly precision, and Hugin whirls happily, grasping something sticky and awful and fucking eats it.

“Hugin Montarion le Fay.” Sirius chastises heatedly. Ugh. Ugh. That does not taste good at all. There is a deafening crack and obelisk trembles dangerously, Hugin popping up in his face with a happy chirp. He snags Sirius then reaches out to drag Silas over with an ugly feathered limb and encompasses them in a shield as the obelisk shatters. The storm stutters and shrieks, vibrating in a pulse of heavy magic that Sirius has to cover his eyes for how intense it is. The woman screams in fear as the storm snatches her up as it drags into a spinning vortex of sound and light then they’re both gone, sucked into an eerily silent, small crater.

Silas blinks, “Good job, little le Fay.”

Hugin chirps, clearly pleased. 

“What about me?” Sirius asks wildly, swaying a bit on his feet. The cut on his hand slowly feeds the shield around them. 

Silas steadies him. “You always do a fantastic job. Little le Fay needs to hear these things too.”

“Ok, yes, he does.” Sirius agrees. “He doesn’t get enough praise from people that aren’t me and my family. Praise my bird even if he does bad things like… eat strange, bad magic. Hugin Montation le Fay, do I not feed you?”

Hugin makes a pitiful noise, turning into a raven as Sirius dismisses the shield and burrows into his hair with his puffy body. Sirius shows no mercy despite how cute this is, “We will be discussing this when we get home.”

Hugin sulks.

“Be easy on little le Fay, little Wraith.” Silas chirps. 

Hugin kaws in agreement. 

Sirius sends Silas a threatening look, earning an unrepentant shrug. A series of pops sound through the air and Sirius can make out Roderick at the stone archway they appeared in. He seems extra pleased with a very short, stocky man behind him as well as some Ministry officials Sirius has seen on prior missions. Silas straightens badly as he watches them begin to descend the ridge, Roderick and the small man chatting happily to one another as the rest break off to cast scans. 

“Who is that?” Sirius whispers, grimacing at SIlas’ pale expression.

“Gerald Rufus.” He whispers back. “Our boss’s boss.”

“Oh shit.” Sirius whispers. He wasn’t expecting someone quite so young to be the Department Head of the DMLE Hit Wizards. Rufus couldn’t possibly be much older than Roderick. His hair is a rich black and cut short, robes immaculately pressed, almost severe, but his face is so jovial in comparison like they’re out on a jaunt instead of reconvening after a, frankly, easy mission. Roderick gives them a cheerful salute as they meander closer. 

“Imagine my surprise when exactly an hour and thirteen minutes after I was alerted of a certain portkey being activated, three curious storms seemed to have evaporated completely.” He chirps happily as they draw closer. “Rufus, this is Sirius le Fay.”

“Our little Wraith.” Rufus seems giddy, which Sirius had not expected nor the offered hand. “Gerald Rufus.”

Sirius shakes it, “It’s so nice to meet the face of our operation.”

“You flatter me.” Rufus laughs, pleased. “Good to see you, Vance.”

“S-Same here, sir.” Silas says quickly. 

“Curiously, every time Mr. le Fay joins a mission, your turn arounds have become, if possible, more splendid. The Tyrions were having a hard time keeping up before but now,” Rufus rubs his hands together, appearing fiendish. “Simply exceptional. Granted they have their strengths but I can only imagine the Minister’s raised eyebrows when my reports hit her desk this upcoming quarter.”

Roderick puffs his chest, “Why do you think I nag so much? To get the best. I got the eye for ‘em.”

“You certainly do.” Rufus agrees readily. “This isn’t just a social call, however. I understand that you are new to the Brigade but I’d like to extend an official offer to keep you permanently. Typically we wait until year two for such things but I believe Roderick when he says you’re not here for just a thrill, the prestige, or even a paycheck. Believe me, we won’t be throwing you to the wolves as they say, your remaining experience will just be added to your tenure if you agree.”

He continues as if he doesn’t notice Sirius growing panic and elation, “Your contributions have greatly impacted this team. For one, you are the only current recruit that has been able to actively assist on missions but these contributions extend beyond that. I am seeing multiple improvements across the board as well as a deranged amount of increased morale. It’s, frankly, very terrifying. The current members of the Brigade speak incredibly highly of you as well. I planned on waiting to see how the next follow up would go but I find myself impressed. While Vance is an incredibly skilled wizard, an hour and thirteen minutes has broken a number of records in the last decade.”

Silas nudges Sirius with a grin as Roderick nods solemnly with each word spoken. Sirius’ brain finally catches up with him but Hugin beats him to it by chirping excitedly. 

“Oh my god.” Sirius whimpers, tears prickking with tears. “Are you deadass?”

Roderick chokes as does Silas.

Rufus laughs, startled. “Oh, most certainly. You have until your anniversary with us to give me your answer and choose a specialty but meh, hardly anyone picks just one.”

Roderick bounces excitedly. “Say yes. Say yes right now or I will sob like a child and tell Denise it was you.”

“I think I’d also cry.” Silas whispers. “Please say yes. I love working with you.

“Oh my god, I’m saying yes.” Sirius whimpers once more. “I’d never say no. This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“He sounds like Potter.” Rufus whispers, looking thoughtful. “Yes, yes, these were almost his exact words.” 

“Weren’t it?” Roderick hisses, feverish. He looks like he may start howling at any moment.

“This is literally the third best day of my life.” Sirius says, grasping Hugin, who sqwawks when Sirius flips him like a baby. “You hear that, you big banana. We are official. Our man is going to be so pleased.”

Hugin shifts into his small bird dog and licks Sirius’ face excitedly, boned tail wagging hard. 

“Oh my, this must be the magic, Hugin le Fay.” Rufus chirps. “Pleasure to meet you. You’ve done splendid work.” 

A feathered hand bursts out of Hugin’s back when he receives an offered hand and Rufus shakes it easily like there isn’t some small monstrosity on the other end with a laugh, pleased. 

“We are a dream team.” Sirius squeezes Hugin hard. “God, I’m making you so many cucumber sandwiches today.”

Hugin barks, clearly thrilled.

Notes:

lowkey trying to figure out how to work Hadrian into the next chapter since, well, he can't always be coming back early. I think I may do secret letters where he makes Death be an errand boy. That would be so fucking funny. I've decided I'm doing this. They will be insufferable and in love.

edit: ill dedicate a chapter for just this. yes, yes, gooooood

Chapter 42: Welcome Home

Summary:

Siri brings home a little mage and has a serious talk with Isolde

Notes:

Tws, implied child abuse, talks of Sirius running away, implied bad parenting

- Sirius le Fay vs Arlette
- Moody and Tennison mourning the loss of a Potter/le Fay Dream Team
- Panicked bowing
- Siri is good with babies
- Protective James becomes Smitten James
- Effie is a little shit vs Isolde's murdery temper
- Sirius in his healing arc
- insufferable discussions

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius bounces excitedly beside James, who is strangely sullen and well, serious. He has been pissy since Sirius mentioned Arlette would be arriving home them today. Granted James met the little not-le Fay once already and was dully unimpressed. Sirius supposes little Potter is in Protect Pads mode, as was Monty, because Hadrian was not here to do it, which was endearing, if not alarming because he did not need to be protected. Sirius was a scary boy- man, I am a man, he thinks, perking up when Tennison and Moody bring Arlette through the floo. The immediate awe at the visiting parlor makes Sirius clap himself on the back because alas, he worked hard to make it immaculate and perfect. 

Arlette perks up as well when she notices him as she had done the last several days when Sirius would visit her. She had many questions about his mission and Sirius dutifully answered them all. When she sees James, she shrinks a bit and Sirius nudges James, startling him so bad he nearly falls over. James sends him a speaking look and Sirius sends one right back. James frowns. Sirius raises both eyebrows, tiling his head. James scoffs and Sirius pouts. James immediately scrambles, grasping his shoulder and looks him up and down, alarmed. Sirius shakes his head, laughing, and laughs harder when James gently bops him across the head.

“We could’ve had a dream team, Moody.” Tennison sighs, forlorn.

“As you say.” Moody sniffs and it sounds like he’s in mourning. “Alright, le Fay. Your request has been approved. There will be a hearing of sorts at a later date. Ain’t nothing to be worried about.”

Sirius claps, “Yes. Thank you both so much. In exchange, my bird has left you both gifts of material and food variety. I slaved. I slaved hard.”

“I tried all of it. It’s fucking delicious.” James agrees. 

Moody’s brow furrows deeply, eyes bright with dark approval as Tennison beams, “Ha! Take that Crowe! I, too, get a le Fay meal. I even received a care package from Potter Sr recently.”

Sirius does not have the heart to tell this man that Roderick certainly gets many le Fay and Potter meals courtesy of himself and Hadrian because it would ruin the vibe and sometimes a win is needed to encourage good relationships. James gracefully allows the lie to run smoothly as well but Moody has a glint in his eye that suspects he knows. Sirius did add extra food to pay for his silence as foresight for this moment. 

Arlette’s cuffs are removed but she is required to wear a special bracelet that apparently monitors the output of her magic. Moody says something to the degree that any forms of dark, violent curses or hexes will have her back in Azkaban within the second they are used but Sirius isn’t really listening, looking his cousin up and down and wow, has she gotten thinner? James seems to be asking himself the same thing as he circles a nervous little not Fay much to their superiors amusement before they head back through the visitor floo. James and Sirius share a look then nod in unison. Food then shopping. 

Arlette won’t be able to leave the country but there are plenty of places they could that wasn’t a directional alley of Wizarding proportions and at least Sirius can say this cult has never dropped in on him while in Muggle London. But Sirius knows they have to be thorough and careful so Hugin will lock himself down with the newest episode of Blue Planet. Sirius did not know why his bird was so fascinated by oceans and ocean life but it was above him and he assured his bird he’d be fine. He was fine 19 years prior, he’d be fine when they left today. Regardless, they had a code now, which was just Sirius singing Baby Shark incredibly loud in his own head.

Arlette nervously looks between them. She bows deeply, her tiny voice trembling, “Thank you so much.”

James’ original stern demeanor immediately cracks and he appears panicked. 

Sirius snorts, “You don’t have to bow to us. We’re just two dudes.”

“Two dudes!” James agrees quickly. 

Arlette straightens slowly and she appears unsure. “Uhm. Should I call you both sir?”

James balks as does Sirius, “We have been over this. I am young and spry.”

“And I’m younger than him.” James nods. “James is fine. None of this heir Potter shit either.”

“Same. No Lord le Fay. Sounds so stuffy and I have no reason to flex currently.” Sirius pulls a face and Arlette giggles, which is precious. Ugh, so cute, he thinks, clapping. “I’m fucking starving so we will eat first then I’m going to throw galleons at you.”

“Can…can I also throw galleons?” James whispers. “She is very cute, Pads.”

“What? Yes, of course.” Sirius whispers back. “Wait. Isn’t she? Sooo cute, Prongs.”

Arlette attempts to dissuade them. “Y-You don’t have to-” 

“Nuh uh.” Sirius interrupts. “You are too cute. I am stunning and you will not sully us, or yourself for that matter, by looking anything but cute as fuck. These robes are dull and they wash out your complexion. Plus your hair is an amazing shade and will look good in anything.”

“We can get ice cream after.” James sighs happily.

“Marvelous suggestion, Prongs.” Sirius nods.

“I… I don’t know what that is.” Arlette admits, twisting her thin shirt in between her hands. Ah, wrong thing to say, Sirius thinks happily, watching James rile himself up to severe degrees because of one teensy tiny comment. James gasps, red with fury, and immediately launches into a tirade on what kind of parent doesn’t give their child ice cream and proceeds to badger this poor girl with questions upon questions about what she hasn’t had. Sirius is a bit pissed to learn Arlette has never experienced a burger but he’s even more pissed when she says she doesn’t know what a fucking hug is.

Marlene pops in during a healthy squeeze of one little not Fay, who is giggling so tiny and embarrassed, and she rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips, “This must be Arlette then.”

“Yes!” Sirius chirps. “Arlette, this is my wife but she is not an official official wife, Marlene McKinnon. She is perfect and amazing.”

Arlette bows to her as well and Marlene goes crosseyed, hands raised in panic, “No need to do that! I’m just Marlene!”

“A-Apologies,” Arlette responds, rising with pink cheeks.

“At least she is polite.” Euphemia’s voice rings out as she strides into the parlor, robes flowy and immaculate in shades of rich ivory with golden filigree woven throughout. Just wow, yes, what a look. Arlette immediately bows once more, clearly frightened, eyes locked on her shoes, and Sirius rubs her back soothingly. 

“This is Euphemia Potter nee Rudrapatha.”

Arlette pales comically and squeaks, bowing so deep that her face nearly smacks into her knees. Effie, being ever graceful and charitable, laughs quietly, “There is no need to bow to me, little one.”

“She’s the best. They both are. No one will hurt you here.” Sirius whispers, holding out his pinkie. “Promise.”

Arlette hesitates then links their pinkies together as he showed her prior. She straightens slowly. “I am Arlette. I am honored to meet you, Lady Potter and Marlene McKinnon.”

Effie appears charmed as does Marlene, if not critical of Arlette’s attire. Marlene sends Sirius a speaking look after looking Arlette up and down, “Sirius Altair.”

“Let me feed the child first. Then you can drag us everywhere outside of the Wizarding World, I promise.” Sirius says quickly. 

“Excellent.” Marlene sniffs, haughty.

“Mipsy has just finished making a marvelous tamarind duck breast.” Effie suggests serenely and Sirius’ mouth waters. 

Arlette sways, “Oh. Papa always has duck but he never lets me try.”

Effie’s gaze sharpens, “This will be corrected now.” 

“It’s so good, Arlette.” Sirius moans. “So fucking good. You will die of flavor. Mip is the best.”  

He bustles a nervous Arlette out of the parlor after everyone trails out and is pleased by her awe as she takes in the decorations and interior of the manor. She has many questions but refrains from asking until Sirius prompts her then it all burst forth like water from beyond a dam. Sirius doesn’t mind answering, sharing his current knowledge of his family’s things. He had been hesitant about sharing much prior after Hadrian suggested he be wary because he apparently still had reservations. The Hadrian gave Sirius a stamp of approval as he wanted to be assured by his dead suitor that Arlette held no nefarious purposes because for all his bluster, Hadrian didn’t want to kill a child. 

No, she was just a scared girl with a father who hated her and would likely use her as some bred dog when she reached age. This would not be happening on Sirius’ watch nor in his lifetime. Sirius pauses, “I got ahead of myself. Are you okay to go shopping today? We can totally do it some other time.”

“Ah,” Arlette blushes. “It would be nice to wear something else.”

Sirius fist pumps, “Nice. Marlene will be manic but it’s not you, it’s her. She did the same shit to me.”

Arlette peers curiously at him, “Did you go through a similar instance?”

Sirius raspberries, “Kind of? I ran away from home when I was 16. Couldn’t walk very well for a while so Marlene would bring me shit to keep my occupied while I was holed up in Potter Manor.” He hesitates, then dismisses the glamor on his neck, earning a gasp, “It was an argument that sort of got out of control. There’s more on my back but no only really sees it except for Hadrian. Marlene takes on this… mother role sometimes. It's best to let her get it out of her system or you’ll get bonked very gently.”

“He did what?!” Isolde’s voice startles the shit out of Sirius and Arlette. It’s so loud and so clear that the manor walls tremble in response.

Oops, he thinks, laughing nervously. Sirius had kept very hush hush to his mother about Arlette beyond that she got arrested but notably did not try to kill him, which he had to tell her quickly because his mother’s portrait had turn menacing and black with magic. Arlette is ashen beside him, appearing unsure and very, very small. Sirius brings her to a stop, kneeling before her and gives her forehead a soft flick, “I don’t expect you to meet my mother today. She can be… a lot and she is very protective of me despite being dead but I do want you here, little mage. Even if she’s upset, this doesn’t change my opinion.”

Arlette’s shoulders drop minutely and she seems relieved, flushing with shame, “Apologies.”

Sirius flicks her again, “Don’t be silly. I was the same way with the Potters. No one likes to feel like a burden but you will not be that here. Got it?”

“Yes, sir-Sirius. Yes, Sirius.” Arlette corrects.

Sirius grins, “There you are. I’ll show you the kitchen then deal with my unruly bearer.”

Arlette dutifully trails after him, clearly surprised to see his family seated at a kitchen island instead of some formal, stuffy dining room. Mipsy is bustling happily around the kitchen, throwing snide commentary to James, who balks in outrage as Lily giggles beside him. Marlene turns, gaze sharpening, and aggressively pats the stool beside her, pointing a threatening finger at Arlette. Arlette cows easily, much to Monty’s amusement but Effie is notably absent, likely still being a little shit, so Sirius introduces Arlette to a scruntinizing Fleamont Potter. Monty looks her up and down then glares at Sirius, “She’s too thin.”

“I know.” Sirius gasps, helping Arlette onto the stool. “Make sure she eats a lot, daddy oh.”

Monty’s eyes go misty, which is alarming, but he clears his throat and agrees. Sirius leaves them to it, a bit embarrassed to be caught lacking. He is well aware at this rate the Potters would likely become his in laws and they already call him son but hell. Sirius does feel giddy at the realization that this possibility is in his future. He finds Euphemia in Isolde’s room, looking serene and angelic as Isolde storms cagely back and forth in her portrait. When her eye catches him, the room shakes badly.

“Sirius Altair le Fay.” Isolde hisses. 

“You look incredible in this light.” Sirius blinks, innocent, because wow, she does. The afternoon sun just hits right. He had such incredibly attractive parents. No wonder I’m a bombshell, Sirius thinks happily. Isolde flounders a bit, clearly thrown off, and Effie laughs, giving Sirius a merry wave as she skips out of the room like the little shit she is, and closes the door behind her. Sirius gives his mother a moment to gather her wits because he is very interested to see where this tangent will be going and mostly because he enjoys watching her rise to astronomical degrees over him of all people. Sirius takes a seat on a floor cushion, throwing up a silencing spell, as Isolde slowly returns to her seat, eyes furious, and it is such a look on her.

“Explain yourself.”

“Well, I told you this may happen.” Sirius laughs. “Plus I think she’ll be useful and she’s so tiny. Barely 26 kilos.”

Isolde gasps, forgetting herself, “That is so small.”

“I agree.” Sirius raspberries. “We expect he’ll come for her at the Ministry. It’s very hush on where she is currently and Moody, the auror I was telling you about, acts as her personal guard in Azkaban. He, my boss, his boss, and Tennison are the only Ministry officials who know where she is as of now. General public just knows there’s a kid in Azkaban.”

Isolde sighs, “And when you are both out in public?”

Sirius procures a little garnet ring with a flourish, “Alaric’s work. A glamor for her and I’ll change my appearance, but I’ve gotten good about masking my magic thanks to Eli. Hugin is watching dolphins as we speak. James and Marlene shouldn’t have to disguise themselves since they’re often seen with different people but we’ll be sticking to muggle areas. Umbra can get me any shit I need from the Wizarding World or I can owl order it.”

Isolde slowly nods, “This isn’t a permanent solution.”

“Nope.” Sirius agrees. “It’s temporary until I put that man in the ground myself.”

“Why burden yourself, my love?”

“Who else would?” Sirius counters easily. “Even if she is an offshoot or whatever, she is of us, maman. I can’t stand by and let her just be abandoned or forgotten. If anything I’m paying it forward, doing for her what the Potters did for me.” 

“And what does your suitor say about such things?”

“He’s been supportive but now moreso that he’s talked it over with Death.” Sirius informs her.

Isolde slumps, relieved. “I enjoy his honestly. If there are any deity’s opinion I trust, it is Death’s and the Mother’s.” She rubs her temples delicately. “When will you show me this child?”

“Whenever you want. Are you going to be nice?” Sirius asks sweetly.

“I will be cordial,” Isolde says dryly. “I’ll allow her in my presence tomorrow.”

“Perfect. I was going to thrust her upon you in exactly one business day anyway.” Sirius chirps, stretching back on his hands. “While we’re here, you’ve been plotting but you won’t tell me what.”

“I’m unsure what you mean, darling.” Isolde sniffs. “I am simply aiding our magic in its just fury.”

“Uh huh, would you have something to do with a certain article being published about one Lord Black courting a werewolf?” Sirius hums.

Isolde appears giddy, fiendish, “Of course not. That would be uncouth of me to air out another’s business. I simply ensured a certain reporter was in the right place at the right time. It is amazing what I can still do in the beyond. If everyone used their blood for such things, we’d have less arguing.”

Sirius laughs, “We’d have more murders.”

“Whatever solves problems,” Isolde says dismissively. “Perhaps they should’ve been more sneaky about it. I don’t know how the woman figured that your previous failure of man was a werewolf but it is above me as they say.”

“Hmm might be Hadrian’s doing. He got him fired from his last job, wouldn’t say how.” Sirius shrugs. “I also didn’t care to ask.”

“You appear more at peace now.” Isolde nods. “Especially when it comes to the cur.”

“I have the best person to pass my time with.” Sirius snorts. “If anything, I feel grateful for how it all turned out even with a disownment. I was able to meet you, meet Hugin, Lucan, Amycus, and now I have this life I’m building for myself. It was just a blimp in the broad scheme of things because sure, my life changed drastically but it didn’t really change at all. I still do what I want, still have those who are loyal to me while both of their lives are crumbling around them. I don’t know, maman. I feel… good, I guess. Really good. I think I may dismiss the blood curse come new year however. I’ve done enough irreparable damage and none of them mean shit to me anymore.” 

Isolde seems surprised, “But you could do more.” 

Sirius shrugs, “I could. I could until the day I die but I’m not super interested in wasting magic on any of them anymore. I’ll leave it up to Hugs but I feel I’ve done enough. Let’s look at the stats.”

He waves a hand, bringing up a chart of sorts with a series of names listed. Sirius points to the top, “Bellatrix is dying or likely dead enough and she won’t be getting her magic back or her mind with how soupy she is currently. Irma and Pollux are both dead as is Druella now. Cyngus is still holding on but his influence has decreased significantly due to isolation. The weight of Lord Black has all but diminished especially with that recent article. Lupin still is unemployed and generally suffering with his transformations and Severus made sure that he won’t be able to get his hands on whatever concoction his mentor is working on.”

Sirius taps a finger by Regulus’ name, “Alone. Has minimal friends and no living family beyond those dying and Narcissa Malfoy. Not to mention all the Black properties you’ve leveled and drenched in blood magic so nothing can be remade. I feel its the end of my chapter for wasting time and energy on any of them. I have done enough. They can have each other. Hugin already took away the bits I wanted, the rest was just a slow burn of suffering. Walburga is dead, thanks to my man being pissy.”

Isolde taps her chin thoughtfully, “So you’ll potentially end the curse but not give anything back?”

Sirius didn’t even know he could do that. He scoffs, “No. I’m giving them my mercy. That is enough.”

“It is.” Isolde agrees severely. “I can’t say I’m pleased but I understand. You are too forgiving, little mango.”

“I disagree. Like I said, Hugin took what I wanted already.” Sirius grins. “Lord Black dies with Regulus. The House of Black will never recover even if Narcissa tries anything. The reputation is too tanked especially with Lucius Malfoy being iced out by everyone powerful enough to be allowed to come to my house to shoot the shit. It’s not like the House of Black will be able to save his standing.”

“Lucius is the strange man, yes? The one Hadrian despises?” Isolde asks. She frowns. “I remember Abraxas Malfoy. I was unimpressed. My father hated him.”

“He still does and hates his son.” Sirius nods, “Hadrian thinks Lucius has the hots for me or some shit. I think Lucy just likes courting power. He’s still a weirdo though.”

“He sounds unpleasant if he’s anything like his daddy.” Isolde sniffs daintily. “Fleamont has been kind enough to keep me informed on such drivel that goes on in his gentlemen’s club. Apparently, there are many lords wondering how to go about asking for your hand for their children.”

Sirius pales, “I’m in a relationship.”

Isolde grins, “Oh yes but you are not betrothed, my love. Surely a passing fancy doesn’t mean much against a formal request. Unless you are plotting as well? Hm?”

Sirius flushes, embarrassed. He sniffs, ignoring the way his mother titters, “I may be. I’m sick of women looking at my man.”

“I assure you he feels the same.” Isolde sighs happily. She gasps, gleeful, “Did I say that aloud? Pardon me.”  

A little shit. A little shit this woman is! Sirius scoffs, his face incredibly warm, “Guess we’ll see who beats who.”

Isolde claps, “Now that is exciting!”

Notes:

okok next chapter will be letters between are two fools. So sorry for the late post, I have been experiencing emotions and they are not good. In addition, I wanted to write more of the Hades & Siri raise Harry type shit because I was feeling down.

alas, I am here. Hope you're doing well! ^^/

Chapter 43: Series of Letters

Summary:

Two insufferable idiots

Notes:

Tws, implied sexual content, dirty talk? Idk.

this is just really goofy

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hadrian,

If you are receiving this letter then I hope you can also hear me saying “oh shit, it worked” in your mind’s eye or whatever. This is so crazy. I feel like a spy, like I’m committing the crimes! Bad boys, bad boys! Wee woo. I think that’s what the Americans say.

Now, before you start raising your eyebrows trying to figure out how I summoned your dead sugar daddy, know that it is irrelevant. Perhaps I am just better than most people. I am better than most people!

Hell, I have so much to tell you but I want to wait until you’re back but I also don’t want to wait. I am conflicted, Hazza! I am officially one of you! And our child is safely tucked in this house. I bought her so many onesies and taught her how to braid (well, Cas taught her how to braid. I attempted but I am terrible at explaining things I realize.) Anyway, I know you’re super busy.

I miss you. Hugin misses you as you can see by the questionable ink print in the corner, that little bastard fool. Be safe.

Sirius

 

Sirius,

I’d ask how the fuck you managed to convince him to this but, as stated, it’s irrelevant. Caelum has always been meddlesome despite his nature so I’m assuming at this point it is his nature. Your budding relationship weighs heavily on my psyche. How tragic. Can’t say I’m displeased however.

I’ve enjoyed all the lunches you’ve provided but this maple bourbon ham will haunt me in my dreams. I never considered adding orange as well. I expect more when I return home. While I am certain you are aware that I miss your presence, I know you, Riri. I miss waking up to your hair in my mouth and the way you sound like when you yawn. Like the tiniest of animals.

I’m glad to know Arlette is meshing well.

I will be safe. Can’t see that grin of yours if I’m dead.

Yours,

Hadrian

 

Hades,

The offense! I do not sound like an animal when I yawn! If you keep this up, you will get no ham in this house. I will buy out all the ham in the continent and chuck it into the sea for the sharks or birds. Whoever gets it first.

Sick of this shit.

Sirius

 

Riri,

Oh, but you do, my love. I can almost feel your embarrassment through this very letter. It’s written so hastily, which is incredibly telling. You’re usually so careful about the way you dot your i’s and cross your t’s. I imagine this teasing has your face as red as Evan’s hair.

It’s nearly 3 in the morning here yet you have me up like some idiot, laughing over a letter of all things. I feel a bit delusional but I have managed two hours of sleep so don’t fret. Three of these fucking miscreants have been put into the ground but its fucking cold here. I’ll have Roderick’s pelt come December at this rate. The least he can fucking do.

Tell me, Riri, you are two hours behind yet you’re sending letters like you won’t be up in the next four hours to go gallivanting around your woods with our horse and likely, Jay. Ah, it must be Jay who has you up so late. Has he confessed it was he who ate the last of your apple cobbler? Oops, my mistake. I doubt he’d admit such a thing without some wringing. Before you accuse me of keeping secrets, I did just tell you. Unless it is our unofficial spawn then well, have no advice for that. I used to knock Jay out when he became insufferable.

We should visit Severus when I return. I feel he’s been plotting recently and I’d like to see what suspicious behavior he’s up to. Unless… are you keeping secrets, Sirius? Surely not. The last time you kept anything from me, you sang quite beautifully once I got my hands on you. Shall I wring this out as well?

Yours,

Hadrian

 

Hades,

The audacity for one. For two, fuck off! I am so innocent! And I am not embarrassed! God, you are so embarrassing sometimes. How are you older than me? How does anyone think you are suave and cool and handsome when you’re just the fucking devil?

Also, you knew who ate my cobbler and didn’t say anything?! Hadrian Shani Potter. The fucking betrayal. For your information, I am up because Umbra and Gatsby are out murdering some poor animals and I can’t sleep. I feel wired as hell. Hugin has taken to terrorizing the houseplants again. It’s truly a miracle you and Effie have managed to keep anything alive between us. I know I am a dog and he is a birddog but this is some cat bullshit. He’s so curious about everything. This child ate fucking magic on my last mission! Ate! The! Magic! Like a fool.And before you say anything, yes, I have been using the potion you suggested for the leaves. Hugin just doesn’t fucking care. However, it’s moderatively effective. You’re the only person who can get me to fuss over ficus. I still say we burn the whole thing.

Ugh.Ugh.Ugh.

I hope all these fucks die quickly so you can come home. Our child has been adjusting well. She’s so cute. I’m taking her to Leeds tomorrow. Today? I don’t fucking know. Whenever the weekend is. I think I’m also delusional. Make sure to sleep, you big banana. The dead will still die when you’re well rested.

Just sneak back home and I’ll suck your dick. I’ll be so incredibly good and sit like the good boy I am and bark for my meal. Cheeky, huh? Oh well. If you wanted some simple bitch, you should’ve looked elsewhere. At least I’m easy.

Love,

Sirius

 

Sirius le Fay,

It is one thing to be far from you but it is another for you to toy with me like this. You are a menace but you already know that. Shall I swing by to push my cock down your throat so you can sleep well like a child in need of warm milk? Or will you be good and patiently wait for me to return home? Ah, I can already imagine your expression. Choked up, sweetheart? How dreadful.

I did laugh about the ficus bit. Leave Littles alone. I have done wonders and he grows so strongly now. If it helps, the mission is progressing. As I said, three of them are in the ground and rotting as we speak. There is something terrible about this place that reminds me of Grimmauld when I shoved my fist down that bint’s throat. Depressing and miserable. I’d say I wish you were here but I’d rather die than see you back in such a place.

As a delightful confession. I’ve been carrying your letters around with me. You have such pretty handwriting, Riri. Still think you’re not posh? Please gently bop our bird on the head for me. You’ll find a vault key with this letter. I’m sure between you and Jay she’ll have plenty of shit but I don’t give a fuck. Spend as much as you want.

Always,

Hadrian

 

Hades,

I genuinely hate you. No, I was not waiting to reply. I was simply busy with our child. God, she’s so fucking cute! It makes me weak. I bought her a treehouse. She didn’t even know what a fucking hug was. Don’t worry I have corrected this. Marlene has force fed this child for nearly every meal. Arlette is so polite and she about fainted when she met Effie. Forgot how scary your ma can be to people who aren’t me. Her sneeze is so cute so naturally I can’ find Euphemia scary (a lie, do not tell her).

You always go to such abysmal places. I get that’s your job or whatever but hell. Does anyone else go anyplace as depressing? The village with the lead performer of Limbs Ballet was still tame in comparison to Grimmauld but I guess I’ve always fucking hated that house. I feel like it took so much out of me all the time. Ah, sorry.

Speaking of confessions, I’ve been working on something for you with our bird. Don’t laugh. I can hear it already. It’s a charm. Pretty fucking fancy if I say so myself but I thought… I thought it might be nice. Meant to be an anchor for you. A little piece of home or whatever. Hm, a little piece of me might be more accurate.

I know I said you go to abysmal places but I am incredibly proud of the work you do, Hades. You’re like a real life super hero. Fuck an auror when you’ve got Hadrian fucking Potter.

Yours,

Sirius

 

Riri,

A charm? Now you’ve gotten me excited. Oh, that will not do. I’ll have to respond. I can’t wait to see what you two have conjured up. You’re more sentimental than you let on, little one.

Glad to hear the child received a hug. Heaven’s know she likely needs it with the ass fuck of a father she had. A treehouse sounds splendid. There’s a charm to expand the inside to have five levels rather than just two but I don’t want to overwhelm her. It’ll be a treemanor at that point.

Unfortunately, the people I hunt very seldomnly live in bright, sunny places that are the literal embodiment of you and Jay. But I’m nearing this end. I have two more but Crowe wants one of them so I suppose I’ll adhere to his request rather than bash his head in. However, I can’t wait to be home with you and our family.

You flatter me. I’m just a man, Sirius. Nothing special. I’ll be back soon.

Always,

Hadrian

 

Hades,

Don’t be fucking stupid. Just a man, he says. Nothing special, he says. Sick of this shit. You are extraordinary, Hadrian! You are also a member of this amazing family that is the only reason home even exists for me now. The very reason I don’t feel like I’m spinning into the void every waking second. Don’t offend me with this nonsense again. I will bop you against the head very, very gently. Then very hard for the audacity.

Roderick is very lucky you are so patient. I would have cried or cursed him into next week (I wouldn’t because I’d be fucking thrilled but holy shit). Two more? I’ll drink to that. I hope you’re keeping safe, idiot. I have a mission with Eli tomorrow! Super suuuuper excited. I promise to not do anything stupid but I will be fucking flashy.

The treehouse idea sounds fucking bomb! Please do it. I know the little mage will love it. If I know you, it’ll be fucking perfect. Everything you touch turns out masterful. Just look at the study. Incredible!

I miss you. I know I keep saying that but now I feel like I can convey this safely without dying of embarassment. I’m counting the metaphorical days.

Yours,

Riri

 

Riri,

You’re relentless, you know know that? I can feel the indignation dripping from your letter. I’ll concede here. Perhaps I am more than just a man. Happy? Mm. Embarassing.

Roderick’s patience is as endless as his wit, which is to say… very much so. I’ll let him win this one since he promised me a Yule bonus and I got shit to buy. I had the pleasure of watching him pull rank on one of the recruits before I left and it was amusing because I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so snapped until recently. Makes me remember why I keep his company.

I’ve started outlining the treehouse. A little sanctuary as they call it. Maybe three levels. Imani may be jealous. I think this is my best work yet. I’ll have to make it up to my little imp.

Don’t think for a moment I don’t miss you just as much. The quiet is unbearable. I think for your next musical performance you should do Blondie. Though I will sit through another round of Abba.

Yours,

Hades

 

Hades,

Three levels?! Holy shit. Arlette will lose her fucking mind and so will I most likely. She deserves ever bit of energy and magic we can give her. I made her laugh so hard she snorted and it made my entire year if I’m honest. It was the cutest noise. I’ll have to show you the memory.

I enjoy being loud. Could never be loud in Grimmauld but I can be loud here. I’ll sing whatever the fuck you want if it means you’re here with me.

And don’t think I didn’t catch your flattery, you sentimental idiot. I can’t believe you’re even entertaining these letters. I feel a bit silly if I’m honest. I’ve kept them all.

Come home soon. I’ll make you a monte cristo and sit in your lap and babble like some baby.

Counting the literal fucking days,

Sirius

 

Riri,

Careful. You’ll make me sloppy and I can’t have that. I’ll write you as many letters as you desire. Yours are the best part of my day, even out here. I’ve kept every one of them as well. Jinx? You’ve spoiled silence for me. I used to thrive in it, now it’s just a reminder of what I’m missing. It’s similar to when Jay first came to live with me. A weird adjustment period. I feel rattled all over again, but on a deeper level. Embarrassing. I can’t believe I even wrote this.

Finished the treehouse. And when you receive this, I’ll be home.

Always,

Hadrian

 

“Home?” Sirius whispers, turning the letter over.

“Boo.” Hadrian says from behind him.

Sirius shrieks, letter stuttering out of his hand, and turns to see Hadrian with Hugin draped over his shoulder as a silvery, strange fox with a happily squealing face. Hadrian cocks an eyebrow, amused, when Hugin rubs against his face. Sirius slowly turns more, excitement bubbling inside him as well as the audacity. How fucking dare this man just appear and startle him! Give him the box, Hugs, Sirius thinks, imperious because well, they can both be surprised and he’ll get to see Hadrian blush.

Hugin shrieks in response, flicking his tail and a rich ruby box appears before Hadrian, who blinks in surprise. Sirius gestures, “Well, open it.”

“Why do I feel like I’m going to hate this?” Hadrian mutters.

“Perhaps you will. Perhaps you won’t.” Sirius sniffs. “Your penance for startling the shit out of me.”

“A trade then.” Hadrian sniffs, waving his hand and a skeletal one appears before Sirius, holding an ancient looking crystal box. Oh, I forgot about he said he had something for me, Sirius thinks, carefully taking the box. The hand fades like mist and Sirius opens the box slowly, breath catching in his throat at the bracelet inside. It’s crafted from dark obsidian and some sort of bone, the surface is smooth, radiating a subtle, ethereal glow. It’s in the shape of a scythe that’s blade curls into the mouth of a fox, eyes ablaze with dark rubies. The bracelet pulses when Sirius touches it, cool and supple and it slinks around his wrist without him having to place it on and locks with a glow. He can faintly make out the runes but it is a translation of an ancient language he doesn’t know.

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian says severely.

“Hadrian Potter.” Sirius deadpans. “This is the prettiest fucking thing. You always give me pretty things.”

“Don’t deflect. Explain yourself.” Hadrian hums, sliding Sirius’ gift onto his neck, much to Hugin’s immense glee.

“It’s starmetal,” Sirius chirps. “With a meteorite’s core. Supposed to help with magical overload if you ever decide to be banana. Plus I combined my blood with the vein of black opal to give you a. Wait. Tap it first.”

Hadrian glowers at him but obeys. The domed, teardrop pendant at the end shimmers with a nebula of colors before it drips inkly black to become a tiny black sparrow. Sirius waves his hands dramatically, “A mini Hugin! If you are in distress and about to die, he will suck you into the banana room.”

Mini Hugin chirps and Hugin barks happily at the same time.

Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose, cheeks bright red, and sighs, “Thank you.”

Sirius’ heart skips a beat. A quiet knock comes to Sirius’ bedroom door, and he jumps. Hugin leaves Hadrian to gather his wits as he scuttles off his shoulders and smacks into the door. He latches onto the handle and pulls it open with a little noise, his long furred neck stretching so he can peer around and Arlette’s little squeaking voice greeting him.

“Sirius le Fay.” Hadrian sighs once more.

“One second. Our child is here.” Sirius whispers.

Hadrian turns to Sirius’ door, surprised, and watches Hugin shuffle Arlette inside with soft squeals. She looks especially cute in her soft, fleece pajamas. There are little dogs on them because Sirius is nothing if not insufferable and apparently Arlette was a dog person, which was great. Her hair is in the cutest set of plaits with the golden charms Marlene bought for her woven throughout. She stands there nervously as Hadrian looks her up and down, tall and imposing and delicious in his uniform. Arlette squeaks and bows, “I am Arlette.”

“God, don’t do that.” Hadrian says quickly, alarmed. “I’m just Hadrian.”

“My future husband.” Sirius chirps.

Arlette squeaks once more, bowing deeper.

Hadrian glowers at him, “Sirius le Fay.”

Sirius blinks, innocent. “Hm? Anywho, little mage, we have discussed this. There will be no bowing. Inside or outside of this house.” He checks his tempus and pales. Wow, he was a terrible father. “Ah shit, it’s nearly 9. I have a new story for tonight! I did not forget.”

Arlette blushes deeply. “I understand if y-your intended is here-”

“No. No.” Sirius interrupts smoothly. “My man likely wants gather his wits before he berates me.”

“A berating it will be.” Hadrian mutters but he strokes the necklace with a fond tenderness.

Worth it, Sirius thinks.

Notes:

I have like 0 excuses for getting this out late beyond I was having a moment. Almost deleted all my stuff then decided to log out for a few days 💀 so I ended up not doing that obviously.

take care of yourselves ^^/

Chapter 44: Remember Me

Summary:

Sirius meets the face of the sect.

Notes:

Tws, blood magic, blood, violence, strand on strand violence (its giving hands on sight)

- Siri taking his job as older brother seriously
- Hadrian suffering but trusting his dog
- Roderick is not much better
- the other strand gets a name
- Sirius le Fay vs Cyrus No Name
- A piece joins the whole
- a picture is taken

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Barty arrives at the Ministry heavily injured with news on his lips. He confirms Sirius’ suspicions, much to his own dismay, describes how the strand is nothing like Hugin, dark and sticky and oozing with dark magic like a tornado of rage. It reminds Sirius of how Hugin was at the beginning, wounded from being abandoned and furious. Sirius is just grateful Barty came back in one piece and that he managed to figure out what their next plot was. 

An attack on Azkaban. Specifically, a recovery mission for Arlette that may lead to her demise given the severity of her failure. Sirius knows his little mage is safely hidden with Euphemia and Isolde in his family’s home, but he’s afraid someone will find out where she is. It’s a ridiculous notion because Crimson Peak was locked down as tight and as violent as he wanted it to be, with Effie’s additional assistance. He can’t push his worry aside, however. 

Arlette had blossomed up to him so nicely with her tiny hands and shy smile. She even had a favorite color now, which was turquoise, and finally, finally got out of the habit of calling him sir so often. Though he did encourage her to call Hadrian sir because it was hilarious to watch Big Potter’s eyebrows in those moments and the subsequent glare he would send Sirius’ way. 

Sure, Arlette had been with them nearly a month now, but Sirius didn’t think he’d be letting her go anytime soon. It felt a bit like a fever dream, coming home to see Arlette waiting for him, ready to launch into her day and all the books “Nana” let her read. Welcome home, Sirius! How she’d shyly greet Hadrian as well and yes, Arlette wouldn’t be leaving his house come hell or high water. 

A hand gently touches his forearm and Sirius peers over his shoulder to see Hadrian stepping neatly into his space, “She is safe.”

Sirius swallows. “I know. I’m just stressed.”

“You truly think he’ll come.” It isn’t a question.

“I know he will.” Sirius replies easily, watching the roaring sea stretched around them. His gaze flickers to the side to see Roderick creeping slowly along the perimeter like a dog with its hackles raised. He didn’t want Sirius to come, neither did Hadrian, but Sirius refuses to stand by as this convoluted pile of shit occurred. He wanted to see this man’s face, wanted him in the ground for what he had put Arlette, Roshan, and himself through. 

Tennison was here as well as Moody, covering the rear with a volunteering James Potter, who wasn’t about to let Sirius or Hadrian go at this alone, and Frank. Dorcas and Elias were on their opposite side with a few Aurors. Silas was at the focal point atop Azkaban’s massive stone structure. Azkaban itself was armed heavily because even if these people were here for a little girl, there were many that shouldn’t walk the daylight again that could possibly escape with all this foolishness since the Dementors might get in the way. 

Hadrian wraps an arm around Sirius’ shoulders and Sirius leans against him, “We may be able to stop this when he does come.”

“I suspect he’ll know you’ve caught wind of the plans and have adjusted accordingly.” Hadrian sniffs. “It won’t be easy.”

“No.” Sirius agrees. 

A series of shots pierces the night air, then heavy splashes. Sirius clutches his wand tightly, feeling Hadrian move away from him as the water breaks with bodies. Sirius can hear spells on the wind, the sound of gunfire, and Hugin whistles as splits off. Stay close to me, Sirius thinks. Hugin sends back an affirmative, tackling a group of people into the water with a snarl, their limbs flailing as his massive body pins them down.

Sirius follows up behind his bird with a spark of electricity. He saw no need to take prisoners here since they’d all fuck off and die anyway. They work as one, Hugin at his back, Sirius at his, firing off spells and hexes as Hugin swallows up attacks sent their way and spits them back as brittle lightning then he feels it. His knees shake, a sudden onslaught of despair rippling through him at the oppressive, nasty taste in the air. It’s sour and heavy, like a misaligned manhole over a sewer, like rot and decay. 

“With me.” Sirius says, bristling in outrage as such a blatant, offensive surge of power. 

Hugin whips back inside him with a chirp and Sirius slices his palm open. He doesn’t think a time freeze would work here, but that didn’t mean he was some weak bitch. Of us, Hugin sings. Sirius steels himself, watching the sea ripple and freeze, waves hovering midair, the stiffening silence that surrounds him. He can only hear his own faint breathing, eyes categorizing his surrounding as he slowly moves back. 

Hugin shifts left and Sirius moves with him, sliding blood along his wand as he flicks it out in one fluid motion. A shadow snatches it up, oozing like blackened sand, the empty eyes of a sparrow staring back at him. Dread prickles at his spine as he stares into this desolate, eerie gaze, watching it assess him as he assesses it. The strand, Sirius thinks, steadying himself and he closes his hand with a wet squelch. Hugin hisses loudly when the thing rears up and sings to him. His bird whips out with a snarl and the strand bristles in outrage. 

“Lord le Fay,” A deep voice says from behind the shadow. “We meet at last.” 

Sirius breathes, “We could’ve met sooner if you weren’t in the business of killing of your spawn or being a coward.”

The man laughs, appearing through the sandy darkness with a low wave of his hand. His hair is spun starlight, the exact shade as Sirius’ own, but his eyes are old and bright lilac. The man’s face is wrinkled, but he isn’t as old as Sirius had been expecting. On the cusp of his mid to late 50s, clothes meticulous and sharp, which felt like a load of shit considering Arlette looked homeless when Sirius snatched her up. He dips into a polite bow that has Sirius reeling, “I am Cyrus.” 

Sirius doesn’t respond, blood sparking in his palm. Hugin bears on his shoulders like a very large bear, yowling in fury whenever the strand tries to come closer. It’s a stubborn thing but Sirius can see tells of agitation. He didn’t think it would be easy to get Cyrus’ strand on their side, kept Hadrian’s words close to his chest. It may want them to reunite but it may not consider Sirius worthy of it as Hugin once did. 

Cyrus rises, “And this is Rue.” 

Rue snarls at Hugin, shifting into the dripping form of a disfigured wolf, hackles raised and rows upon rows of rotted teeth filling its sandy maw. Cyrus appears amused, “You have my daughter. You have, also, taken what doesn’t belong to you.” 

Sirius bristles, “It belongs to me, cousin.”

Cyrus’ eyes narrow dangerously, “We are more alike-”

“Save it.” Sirius cuts him off. “Arlette stays with me. The magic stays with me. You could’ve kept your little lie thinking you have claim to what is, in fact, mine, but instead you’ve been hunting me for your own selfish gain. What? Rue missing being a part of the whole? Not liking having no family name, sir?”

Cyrus’ expression cracks with fury, “Such insolence.”

The ground beneath them trembles as Rue lunges forward, a blur of oily darkness and gnashing teeth. Hugin moves in response, his massive form roaring with an ear splitting sound, flaring with an iridescent shimmer of magic that splits the air like a strike of lightning. The strands clash together violently, the sheer force sending ripples of energy that distort the very fabrics of reality. 

Sirius notices the sea shifts subtly and well, he’s no bitch. Can’t let you have all the fun, Sirius thinks, grinning as he fires of a cutting curse at Cyrus, who seems surprised, managing a shield at the last moment. 

“My bird doesn’t fight alone.” Sirius quips. “C’mon, cousin. Don’t be boring.”

Cyrus appears offended, not even flinching when Hugin snatches Rue bodily by the neck. He smirks, a silver blur of mafic crackling around him like a wildfire. 

“You’re arrogant, boy.” Cyrus snarls, voice dripping with venom. He shoots off a complicated series of spells. “Just like your grandmother.”

“Naturally. I am her daughter’s son.” Sirius laughs, smoothing his open palm against the air. A red pulse surges outward, ensnaring Rue in a new of glowing tendrils as it absorbs the spells and spits them back out. Sirius is a bit miffed that this man got to meet his grandmother when Sirius never did, a bit pissed that this man is likely the reason he would never be able to meet her. His family was gone in its entirely to due the grief this sect had caused. That disownment of Seraphina started this whole fucking mess.

“Perdere.” Sirius states firmly.

Rue yowls as its encased in blue fire, Hugin striking again in the form of a monstrous, avian something, talons gleaming and wings spread wide like a shadow eclipsing the moon. They rake through Rue’s smoky form, the disfigured wolf yelping as it reels back, reforming with a grotesque ease. It moves to lunge when Cyrus raises a hand, summoning Rue back to his side. 

Stay ready, Sirius thinks, watching Rue circle Cyrus cagily, magic rippling with restrained fury. Hugin kaws, shifting into a smaller form as he flutters back to Sirius, who holds his hand out to him. Rue’s expression turns murderous at the display, baring down on its disjointed paws with increasing agitation. Cyrus opens his hands, almost placating, “Is this just a game to you? After all, Rue and I spent years perfecting this bond. Shall we show you what greatness looks like?”

Sirius grits his teeth, offended and pissed. He’s made many strides these last few months. Pain is the reminder of failure and of growth. Every knockdown was worth it if it meant he got an attack in, if it meant they had to work for his blood to be shed. Cyrus may have had years but he wasn’t Sirius le Fay. He survived a disownment, he survived Walburga, he survived the House of Black. Sirius was more. The real fucking deal, he thinks furiously. Of us, Hugin whispers. Sirius spits, “Greatness with borrowed magic? I’m over talking with you.” 

At this, Rue growls lowly, a strange, guttural noise. It charges forward after a curiously resentful glance at Cyrus and Hugin slams into it like a bullet breaking through glass. Sirius sets off a series of spells he borrowed from Hadrian, following up with a spread of blood magic that turns the rocky terrain, slick and icy. Hugin adjusts readily, the fight between strands becoming brutal. Raw magic explodes between them in arcs of shadows and light. Sirius snatches a blast of dark energy and hurls it towards Cyrus. 

This man is used to his strand doing the work, and it shows. Rue does its hardest to be in two places at once, but it’s evident that they’re not used to acting separately. This was a boon for Sirius, who had been alone all his life without Hugin by his side. Sure, they fought over many things in the beginning, but now? Separate yet together, separate but equals. 

The sea moves more easily out of the corner of Sirius’ eyes, the sound of fights and spells once more filling the air, and he grins, sharp, earning a thunderous look as Cyrus is forced on the defense. Sirius shifts his feet, whipping his wand in a wide arch and circles Hugin and Rue. Hugin rears back. Sirius swipes his wand, splitting Rue in half, who screams in agony. Take it, Sirius thinks quickly and Hugin snatches the front with a snarl, sending them both tumbling to the shore. 

“No!” Cyrus bellows.

A horde of grotesque hands skitter past Sirius and Cyrus’ face goes red with rage. He claps his hands together, freezing time once more and this time, Sirius, curiously struggles against it. He can feel Rue’s half fighting with Hugin, how they pulse and pulse together. Sirius slowly moves his head, delighted at the startled look sent his way, and he grins, “I am more than you, old man.” 

His palm drips bloodied magic and the world resumes. Cyrus stumbles back, summoning Rue to him with a jerky wave of his hand. He sends Sirius a long, thoughtful look of intense fury, then he’s gone in a pop. Coward, Sirius thinks, stumbling down to where Hugin wrestles with the remnants of Rue. It hisses and snarls as he draws closer, frightened, wounded, and Sirius kneels beside them when Hugin pins it bodily to the ground with an ugly noise. 

He runs his hand along the strand’s monstrous face, feeling how it sparks against his palm then, curiously, melts. Sirius swallows, “Come home with us. You can help Hugs destroy the plants.”

Hugin makes a disparaging noise. Truly his bird has been trying his best to not murder the ficus but he still did, in fact, keep trying to murder the ficus. Rue peers up at him with those empty, sparrow’s eyes, pitiful and small underneath Hugin’s massive, snarling body. Sirius doesn’t think it will concede and maybe it truly did hate to think of him as its container taught it to, hated all of le Fay, hated Hugin but Sirius had hope. There was a piece, a part, an inkling of itself that didn’t quite mind him. He didn’t want to destroy magic. That felt… wrong. 

Rue sings miserably, a mournful, small trill. 

“Come home.” Sirius pleads. 

Rue does not respond, but it does stop resisting. It melts beneath Hugin like sea foam and he absorbs it readily. Sirius watches, awed, as Hugin ripples with magic and feels the strangest ball of warmth inside himself like a piece slotting into place. Sirius sags, wrapping an arm around Hugin’s boned neck as he flexes and changes back into a raven. He slumps into Sirius’ palms with a quiet noise. Hugin appears smaller than he was before, which is curious, but Sirius just rubs his fat, little head, earning a sleepy coo. 

There is a noise behind him, then a yelp of pain and followed by a hard thump. Hadrian’s voice follows, “Sirius. Hugin.” 

“I’m fine. I think Hug is exhausted.” Sirius responds easily. “Took a lot this time.”

“Successful then.” Hadrian sniffs, sounding pleased. 

They had briefly talked about Sirius taking back more of the strand as they waited for these fucks to arrive, but Sirius hadn’t been expecting Hadrian to agree. Maybe he was finally starting to trust that Sirius was learning his own limits and not trying to be a dumb banana. Sirius pushes Hugin back inside him to rest, taking Hadrian’s hand in his own as he waves a dismissive hand. Stop.

The sea stills. 

“I’d say this was successful.” Sirius agrees, following Hadrian back towards Azkaban. “You were right. He was a monologuer.” 

“And the strand?” Hadrian prompts.

Sirius hums, “A bit complicated. It doesn’t seem to want to be with him, but that line is also all it’s had for a long time. I think he’s too reliant on it. The next time we meet will likely be terrible. However, I don’t think I can take it without killing him.”

“He would die regardless.” Hadrian sniffs. 

“Yeah.” Sirius leans into him. 

It’s a bit tedious to have to track down each of their teammates to unfreeze them so Sirius gives himself homework because surely there was a way to keep certain people out of it beyond himself. James looks a bit wild eyed with minor injuries that Sirius fixes easily, listening to his deer prattle on about how James Potter was apparently blinding people like the ball of sun he is. 

There are about 50 people rounded up, which felt excessive, but Cyrus clearly wasn’t that much of a direct fighter. Sirius supposes he could’ve won against him. While clearly not a fighter, Cyrus wasn’t weak by any means. His control over Rue was phenomenal despite how the strand responded. Sirius just didn’t know if the remaining part of Rue would accept him. Sure, the magic was his, but it had been so long that he wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t want to be mighty morphed together. 

Roderick gives Sirius a thorough look over once he gets his hands on him as does Elias and Dorcas. Sirius allows it, a bit pleased they continue to give a fuck about him even if he’s berated heavily once more for insisting that he came along. Hadrian holds his hand the entire time, which is a win. Fortunately, none of the cult made it into Azkaban so its tenants remained unaffected beyond likely seeing a cool light show from those narrow windows they’re allowed to have.

Sirius is thrilled to go home and faceplant on his bed with his horse, his bird, and his man. He doesn’t think Arlette would still be up, considering it was nearly 3 in the morning but he is surprised to find her in the main floor’s sitting room with Effie. They are both sound asleep, Arlette curled into Euphemia’s side where they’re stretched out on the couch. 

A soft click fills the air and Sirius turns to see Hadrian with a camera, James swooning against his shoulder as he looks at the image. Sirius whispers, “I need a copy of that.”

The brothers nod very seriously at his words. Hadrian carries Euphemia, much to her delusional embarrassment, while Sirius gathers Arlette into his arms. She stirs but doesn’t wake and really this child sleeps like the dead. So cute, Sirius thinks happily, carrying her to her bedroom. Arlette decided on a room that was in his wing, much to his delight, and they decorated it with large stuffed animals and filled her bookcases with whatever nonsense and trinkets she wanted. 

Sirius didn’t know if a girl of her size needed such a big bed, but he convinced himself that she could fill it with stuffies or cute shit, which she did. Sirius settles Arlette into bed, flicking his fingers to braid her hair so she doesn’t wake up with a small nest like he does. 

“Siri?” Arlette slurs, reaching out. 

“Hello, little mage.” Sirius responds softly. He gently takes her hand. 

“Welcome home.” She sighs. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll make crepes in the morning. With nutella and strawberries and whip cream. We can also have Mipsy’s special tea.”

“O-oh wow.” Arlette gasps. “Thank you.”

“Silly.” Sirius chuckles. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“M’kay.” 

Hadrian is in the doorway when Sirius pushes himself up. He holds out his hand when Sirius draws closer and Sirius takes it, closing the door quietly behind him. 

“I’m exhausted.” Sirius admits, rubbing his face. 

“Its been a heavy day.” Hadrian agrees. “You’ve come so far.”

Sirius nudges him. “Almost as cool as you now.” 

“Almost.” Hadrian sniffs.

Sirius squawks, offended. 

Hadrian flicks him on the forehead, “Gotcha.”

Notes:

if this felt disjointed, it made more sense in my head lmao and I'm on new meds so perhaps it may be disjointed.
I think we are slowly coming to the end of this story. I'm estimating another 5 ish chapters? Idk we'll see.

Chapter 45: A Case of Foolery

Summary:

Sirius and Hadrian show Arlette how to build snowmen

Notes:

No TWs just cutesy vibes

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Get dressed.” 

Sirius slowly turns his head from where it’s face down in Gatsby’s boned body, Hugin draped over top of him as a strange dog. He feels incredibly cozy and warm, dazedly listening to Umbra rearrange rocks that Arlette had brought him on the windowsill. Sirius wasn’t even aware Hadrian had left his bed, content to lay about now that their child should be down for a much needed nap. 

“Is he sleeping?” Arlette whispers. 

Ah, not napping then, Sirius thinks, lifting his head to bark softly in their direction. He can feel Hugin curling tight around him, perfectly willing to not go anywhere and nap all day. Sirius is tempted to join him but Hadrian is looking especially pretty today with his soft turtleneck. His forearms are simply incredible and Sirius finds himself staring at the hard stretch of his chest with starry eyes. 

Arlette pokes her head tentatively out from behind Hadrian, her hair spun up into delicate space buns with tiny star charms decorating them. She’s in the fluffy, furred coat Hadrian had bought for her, looking every inch of a little princess and Sirius sways. Wow, so cute, he thinks, nudging Hugin with his nose. Hugin whimpers pathetically but dutifully unfurls himself, stretching over Gatsby, who grunts in amusement.

“He should be, but he’s been staring into Gatsby’s soul for the last three hours.” Hadrian sniffs. 

Damn, three hours? Crazy, Sirius pushes to his feet, stretching long and hard and shakes himself out with a happy noise. Luckily, his bedding is a soft cream, so the odds of him noticing dog hair are close to nonexistent. Sirius shifts fluidly back to himself and stretches again, back popping loudly and wow, simply perfection.

Arlette perks up, “Did you nap?”

“Uhm, no.” Sirius laughs, rubbing his face. His mind refused to wind down. “What have you two plotted?”

“Arlette wants to build snowmen.” Hadrian drawls. 

Sirius perks up, “Did it snow?”

“Yes.” Hadrian responds.

Arlette wiggles excitedly, “Hadrian said his uncle will make it happen! Then it did! Like magic!”

Sirius coos. This was incredibly cute and surely they weren’t due for snow in another week or so. He can also tell a plot is occurring here as Hadrian had been hovery since the Azkaban incident. Not that Sirius minds, quite the opposite, and received many hugs for his quiet suffering and forehead kisses, which Sirius has learned he really enjoys.

He quirks a brow at Hadrian, “You made it snow?”

Hadrian lifts a shoulder, expression neutral despite the spark of mirth in his pale eyes, “I may have suggested it.”

Sirius gasps dramatically, “Abusing your uncle’s power! Tsk! You’ll be a bad influence on our little mage.”

“I am the best influence,” Hadrian counters smoothly. “As you would know.”

Sirius clears his throat, a bit hot in the collar, and Arlette bounces up to him with a giggle. She hesitates then grasps his sleeve, “Snowmen, please.”

Sirius grins, pinching her nose, “How could I say no to that? I’ll show you how to make snow angels and we can double team Hadrian into a snowball fight since he’s being hovery.”

Not that Sirius didn’t appreciate it. He never felt more cared for. The Potters were truly too good for him. Hadrian mutters something about not being hovery but Sirius ignores him, pleased when Hadrian begins to bundle him up in a warm coat and scarf as Arlette bounces happily around Sirius’ bedroom. Sirius hums when Hadrian summons a pair of gloves, sliding them onto Sirius’ hands, and he blushes, feeling a bit embarrassed. Hadrian flicks him gently on the forehead then follows up with a kiss that has Arlette gasping. 

They both ensure Arlette is properly bundled up, wrapping her in a fluffy scarf and tiny gloves. Sirius decides her boots aren’t warm enough and replaces them, lacing them with a flick of his hand. Arlette seems incredibly embarrassed, if not pleased, hesitatingly taking both of their hands when they move to leave Sirius’ room. Sirius and Hadrian share a look over her head, delighted. 

The moment they step outside, Sirius sucks in a sharp breath. The manor’s grounds are blanketed in pristine white, thick layers of untouched snow stretching into the massive woods and beyond. Frost glimmers in the trees, their branches weighed down by heavy snowfall. The air is crisp, biting against his skin, but the sheer beauty of it all makes Sirius forget the cold. He sends Hadrian a grateful look, earning a wink in response. 

Arlette gasps loudly, takes a brief moment to admire before she lets out a delighted squeal and throws herself into the nearest snowdrift, arms flailing as she attempts to roll around like a cute ball of goo. Sirius laughs, catching Hadrian’s gaze, mixed with fond exasperation and heavy amusement.

“She’s so committed.” Sirius whispers, watching Arlette wriggle deeper into the snow.

“She has a vision,” Hadrian deadpans.

“She is the vision,” Sirius nods, stepping forward. The snow crunches beneath his boots and he flexes his fingers in his gloves. “Alright, little mage, were are we building these snowmen?”

Arlette shoots up like a rocket, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and points dramatically towards the thin opening near the woods, “We build a mote! Then trespassers will have snow people to deal with.”

“A novel idea.” Hadrian says approvingly, nodding in that firm way he does. Sirius snorts, playfully kicking snow at Hadrian’s boots as they follow her. Hadrian gives him a suffering, if not amused look, which only encourages Sirius further. He does takes Sirius’ hand though, which is a win. Arlette begins to gather snow, watching Sirius with curious eyes when he rolls it into a ball and packs it tightly. He hands her the snowball and she makes a cute, little noise then mimics his movements until she has a lumpy ball of snow in her hands. 

“Perfect.” Hadrian nods.

“You’re a natural!” Sirius agrees.

Arlette beams, setting about gathering more snow. Sirius kneels to help her, guiding her hands as they roll the snowball across the ground, encouraging it to grow bigger and bigger. 

Hadrian stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking a bit like a handsome drill sergeant who watches their movements with a critical eye, “This is a very serious process,” He observes. “You have to ensure optimal size ratios for structural integrity.

Sirius snorts, nearly going crosseyed, “Hades, we’re building snowmen, not fortifying a castle.”

Hadrian looks unimpressed. “Speak for yourself.”

Sirius rolls his eyes but is privately delighted. He knows Hadrian is doing this on purpose, playing up his usual stoic demeanor to distract from the obvious fact that he’s keeping an eye on Sirius’ mood. It’s sweet, in a quietly possessive way, and Sirius is more than happy to let it slide. Pleased like some little bird. He was gratified that Hugin didn’t join them because his bird would give him away completely. 

“You hear that, Arlie?” Sirius whispers conspiratorially. “Hadrian wants to build a snow fortress.”

Arlette gasps in delight. “A whole castle?”

“Exactly,” Sirius nods solemnly. “We must prepare accordingly.”

Hadrian groans, realizing his mistake too late. “That’s not-”

But Arlette is already running off, gathering more snow as she excitedly babbles about their grand construction plans. Sirius smirks triumphantly at Hadrian, who huffs, resigned to the foolery as he always is. He should be grateful James wasn’t here then they’d have a real situation of foolery. 

“You did this to yourself,” Sirius says cheerfully, beginning to roll another snowball.

“I regret everything,” Hadrian deadpans but there is no real heat to his words. 

Together, they fall into a seamless rhythm side by side and Sirius steals little kisses when Hadrian’s eyes go sharp and razor focused, delighted by the darkening blush on his cheeks. Hadrian sends him a withering look and Sirius blinks innocently. Arlette directs them with all the authority of a little queen, Sirius for sculpting, Hadrian for structure reinforcement, and herself for decorating, which mostly consists of her pressing her tiny hands into the snow and giving the snowmen happy faces.

They end up with three snowmen, each wildly different. Arlette’s is the smallest but meticulously shaped, if not a bit ugly, its stick arms positioned like its ready for a hug. Sirius’ is dramatic, of course if is, complete with a flowing cape made of conjured ice and a charmed face that moves slightly, giving it a shit eating grin. Hadrian’s is, of course, structurally perfect, its base packed with reinforced snow, its proportions symmetrical to an absurd degree. 

“I hate that your snowman is the best one,” Sirius whispers, a bit awed, a bit thrown on how Hadrian could make a creature made from snow look human.

“I’ve dubbed him Snorius.” Hadrian replies smoothly. He eyes Sirius’ specimen with a critical gaze, “Only you would create such an abomination.”

Sirius gasps, offended, “Excuse you, this is Lord Frostimanti, and he will remember your insult when he comes for you.”

Arlette giggles, wrapping a small scarf around her snowman’s neck, “Mine is Lumine!”

Hadrian sniffs, “The presence of these three will certainly dissuade those who come to bother us.” His snowman then proceeds to spit fire. Hadrian nods solemnly, “As I said.” 

Sirius bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over if not for Hadrian grasping him. “When did you do that?”

“When I was making sure the base was structurally sound.” Hadrian gives a delicate shrug, but there’s a warmth in his gaze as he watches Sirius laugh, a palpable relief in his face that doesn’t quite go away. Sirius does the only thing he can think of in this moment and kisses him. Arlette squeals in excitement. 

They do end up making a fortress of sorts, but it appears like an incredibly dangerous mote for their snowmen. Hadrian incorporates hidden spikes and something that looks like lava which has Arlette oooh’ing and ahhh’ing over. Sirius realizes Hadrian is showing off for their little mage, which makes some part of him throb desperately in delirious happiness. He really wanted them to get along, but unsurprisingly Hadrian rose to the occasion as he done with everything else. 

The sky shifts to a soft, dusty blue as the afternoon wears on. Arlette’s eyes begin to droop and ebb as the excitement catches up with her. Hadrian scoops her up easily, much to her hesitant embarrassment, before she sleepily rests her head on his shoulder. Hadrian relaxes, clearly relieved, and Sirius nearly screams in delight. He does take Arlette’s little hand when she reaches for him as well, snug in the crook of Hadrian’s neck and shoulder. 

“Someone had a good day.” Sirius comments.

“Oh yes.” Arlette agrees with a small sniffle. Her eyes are wet. 

“We’ll have more like this.” Hadrian promises, brushing stray snowflakes from Sirius’ coat. 

Arlette sniffles once more, “Thank you.”

Silly, Sirius thinks, lacing his fingers with Hadrian’s free hand as they head back towards the manor. He leans into his quiet warmth, watching Arlette’s eyes flutter close, how she sags completely against Hadrian. Sirius is grateful they didn’t have to earn her trust so terribly in comparison to how he originally thought. Then again, she was just a child, so desperate for approval. Even if Sirius had never met Arlette, he’d want Cyrus in the ground, but now even more so he does. No child should have to beg for their parents’ favor. 

They pass by Monty, who is striding out of the archway that leads to the dungeons below. He has numerous vials in his hand, appearing fiendish and strange, which twists something up in Sirius’ chest. This man, he thinks, amused. 

“You three had fun.” Monty greets quietly when he notices a snoozing Arlette. “I saw your fortress. Wonderful defense you’ve done, Hari.”

Hadrian puffs his chest, “Maa and Riri have done wonders, but now we have snow defense.”

Monty laughs softly, “I don’t think anyone will mess with us now.” 

Hadrian nods, very seriously, in agreement, and Sirius muffles a laugh into his fist. They continue their journey to Arlette’s room after Monty bounces past them and the warmth of the manor settles into Sirius’ skin like a quiet hug. Euphemia must’ve been frosty since she’s the only one who messes with the temperature. 

Sirius has to vanish the lingering snow from a drowsy Arlette and dress her in comfy pajamas as she hangs off his neck like a little leopard as Hadrian brushes and braids her hair. Arlette is out like a light once they tuck her in, Hadrian making an amused expression and really this child could sleep anywhere. 

“I have something for you.” Hadrian says once they’re safely out of earshot.

Sirius gently closes the door behind him, “How funny. I have something for you too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Sirius grins. “I saw it and thought of you.”

“An exchange then.” Hadrian quips, taking Sirius’ hand. 

“An exchange.” Sirius agrees. He allows himself to be tugged to Hadrian’s bedroom, which he’s noticing for the first time that they hadn’t been here in a while. He hums, “We should just share a room.”

“Oh?” Hadrian hums, crowding him against the door. “Something you want, Lord le Fay?”

“Yes.” Sirius replies, a bit bold, lifting up to kiss Hadrian’s chin. “You spend enough time in my bed, yes?”

“Mm, I do.” Hadrian agrees, cupping the side of Sirius’ face. 

Sirius leans into him, “We can pick a new room so it’s both of ours.”

“We don’t have to do that.” Hadrian replies, his voice gentle. “What’s mine is yours.” 

“Suppose you’re right,” Sirius admits, sliding his arms around Hadrian’s neck. “But we’d have to accommodate the five of us.”

“Mm, our birds and our horse.” Hadrian strokes Sirius’ lower back. “Perhaps the master room of this wing.”

“A novel idea.” Sirius kisses him. “Today?”

“Today.” Hadrian kisses him, then kisses the corner of his mouth. “Forever.” 

Sirius’ heart flips, “That’s a long time.” 

“Never in halves,” Hadrian says lowly. 

“Full circles.” Sirius swallows hard, heart hammering in his chest. He feels so scared in this moment, but he was technically a Potter and they had spent enough time together. Sirius could say it now and it may break everything between them but… but he also believes it won’t. “I love you.”

Hadrian’s expression cracks open, disbelieving and awed, and a furious blush plasters across his face like a flower in bloom. The way his eyes water causes Sirius’ breath to hitch, watching that dawning surprise cusp into an almost blinding happiness. He grasps Sirius’ face in both hands, pulling him into a deep kiss. Sirius’ eyes flutter closed, fingers curling into the collar of Hadrian’s coat, melting as his body sings in elation. 

How scary, he thinks. 

How right, his mind agrees. 

“I love you,” Hadrian murmurs, kissing him again and again. 

Yes, yes, yes, Sirius thinks. 

Notes:

we have a.... I think a war meeting of sorts next chapter for handling Cyrus then shit will proverbially hit the fan. I may squeeze in some more softness between next chapter and the following.

have they had a conversation about betrothals yet no, will they yes but today is not that day

Chapter 46: A Plot of Sorts

Summary:

Sirius decides to hunt Cyrus the formal way

Notes:

Tws there be plottin, otherwise this is less serious than you're thinking it is

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The air in the briefing room is thick with tension, the kind that coils around in your lungs and squeezes just enough to remind you that you might be out of your depth. There is a map sprawled across the long oak table, littered with Sirius’ notes in shifting ink, and carefully placed markers that Sirius has been using to track Cyrus’ movements. It had been James’ idea, using the same charm they used for the Marauder’s Map to pair it with Hugin and by extension, Rue. 

Sirius stands at the head, arms crossed as he listens to the heated debate going on between Roderick and Elias. Roderick taps his finger along the surface, the stillness of a predator at rest, his sharp features unreadable with Elias across from him, passionate and trying to get his way on leaving Sirius behind. Sirius had already said his peace in that regard, wanting nothing more than to join his team in bringing this bastard down. He, also, wanted to be the one to do it but Elias adamantly disagreed.

Gerald Rufus, the head of their entire department has joined them, sitting elegantly at the other end of the table, one leg folded gently over the other as he inclines his head each time one of them makes a solid point. Hadrian was here as well, leaned up against the farthest wall, arms tight across his chest. Hugin is curled around his neck as a snake, lazily draped against him. Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches, a dark cloak slung over his shoulders with the Brigade’s insignia embroidered along the sleeve like a serpent in wait. 

Hadrian has been frighteningly still since this meeting happened, expression eerily calm. It’s the kind of stillness that makes Sirius a bit uneasy, not because he doubts Hadrian’s control, but because he knows that there is a violence buried beneath that is waiting for an excuse to show itself. 

Sirius exhales slowly, catching his attention, and Hadrian inclines his head. 

“Regardless,” Sirius interjects smoothly. “I have him. He hasn’t moved since Azkaban but I know he’s well aware that I know where he is.” 

“How do you figure?” Rufus pipes in. 

“The same way he’s been watching me.” Sirius gestures to Hugin. “Hugs confirmed the location two hours ago. Cyrus is holed up in an estate that once belonged to my family until that person from his line was disowned. It’s on the outskirts of Languedoc.”

Roderick nods once, eyes flickering to the marked coordinates on the map. “Tell me about this house.”

Sirius taps his finger against the parchment, and the ink shifts, revealing a series of layered wards and patrol routes. He marked the people Hugin saw with wood stakes, “Outer perimeter consists of a web of curses, likely entanglement and some other manor of nonsense. Possibly blood magic as well, but Hugin could dismantle that easily. Anyone who steps past the boundary without being keyed into the wards will be ensnared. These,” Sirius gestures to the stakes.

“Are the fucks who work for him. They seem to be stationed in groups. Cyrus has a rotation of enforcers, possibly better trained than the ones we’ve faced so far. He isn’t much of a fighter, but Rue is. I imagine it will be more volatile and dangerous than when I last face it.”

Hadrian hums, “The interior.”

It isn’t a question. Sirius tilts his head, flicking his fingers and the layered map expands, bringing up a blueprint of sorts. He gestures to it, “Complicated. I didn’t want to risk Hugin going inside but Alaric still had the map of the estate. It belonged to Seraphina le Fay and was allowed to be kept with her after his disownment. He mentioned she was a paranoid. There’s anti apparition field over the entire estate, reinforced by blood magic. It’s old, nasty work.”

Sirius expands it slightly, “Any forced breach would alert him immediately, but I doubt he’s using Rue as security given how attached they are. The structure itself is warded against most conventional entry methods, and the only confirmed access point is a side passage that leads into the lower quarters. Hugin followed one of the guards though. Its unguarded but only opens for those carrying a sigil.”

Rufus speaks up once more. “You replicated the sigil. Did it work?”

“Wow, no wonder you’re our head. Was I that obvious?” Sirius asks, thrown.

Rufus laughs, startled, “Certainly not. I didn’t think you’d mention it if you didn’t have just cause.”

Sirius flushes, pleased, “I did. It’s of Rue so it’s of us, but it’s also keyed to individual magical signatures. Stealing one won’t do us any favors, but having Hugin does change things.”

Elias leans forward, drumming his fingers against the wood. “You can’t be serious.”

“That’s me.” Sirius chirps.

“We don’t need to walk in.” Roderick sniffs. “Ahhh, I like where this conversation is going, le Fay.”

Hadrian’s gaze sharpens, interest flickering in his eyes, “You’re planning an internal disruption.”

Sirius nods, “We lure most of them out. Force a shift in their normal routine. If we can manipulate their rotation patterns, we create an opening large enough for us to exploit. Hugin will make copies of us.” He inhales slowly. “If I can get to the wards, I can shut them out.”

Rufus hums thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, “How do you propose we do that?”

Sirius gestures to the left side of the map, “There’s a secondary compound here- likely where his enforcers are stationed when off duty. If we hit it, make it look like a concentrated assault, he’ll have no choice but to divert forces.”

Roderick grins, sharp. “Divide and conquer.”

Hadrian smirks, “Lot of effort just to walk through a door.”

“Not just walk,” Sirius scoffs. “Breeze through. Inside is where the real magic happens. I’d have to go in first.” He points threateningly at Elias. “It will be fine, I swear. What are wards to me?”

Elias’ mouth clicks shut, and he grumbles, which is a bit comical. 

Rufus huffs, inclining his head, “Tell me about this Cyrus. He has a Hugin, does he not? What kind of capabilities are we dealing with?”

Sirius whistles, “He’s not used to working without Rue but I believe I can take him alone. I just need them separated which is easy to do with how pissy his bird gets towards mine.” 

“But it’ll more dangerous as you mentioned.” Roderick counters, looking a bit displeased. 

“I can handle it.” Sirius assures him.

“This is what I’m referring to.” Elias hisses. “Absolutely not.” 

“Even if one of you kills him, Rue will still likely exist.” Sirius responds. He understands Elias’ reservations, he does, but this needed to be done. “We don’t know how it will respond to its container being destroyed. At least if that happens, and I were present, Hugin can handle it as can I.”

Hugin hisses low in agreement. 

“Means we get to end this shit for all.” Roderick says, cracking his knuckles. He looks to Rufus, who mulls over Sirius’ words carefully. 

“I believe this will be your first official mission, le Fay.” Rufus chirps. “You have my teams at your disposal for this. With the knowledge of this man Cyrus and what he is capable of with a strand, he needs to be disposed of. Crowe, make it happen.”

Roderick grins, wide and bloodthirsty, “As you say, sir.”

Rufus rises smoothly to his feet, “I’ll bring this to Scrimgeour as well. I’m certain his aurors would love nothing more to be in on such exciting action. I’ll inform Madame d’Alember of France of our findings here. There shouldn’t be much opposition when I inform her that she has a wizard who has attacked an imperial house numerous times on her soil.” 

“Just tell her this le Fay is willing to go over her head.” Sirius chirps.

Elias pales comically. 

Rufus laughs, “I believe your family name should be enough, little Wraith.” 

Roderick hops to his feet, “When can I gather my folks and Vanessa’s?”

“Tomorrow, dawn. I shall have an answer before then.” Rufus checks his watch. “Oh, yes. Certainly plenty of time. I will leave now.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Sirius says earnestly.

Rufus waves him off, “Nonsense. I’m a bit jealous I’m no longer allowed to do field work. What an exciting thing you’ve brought to me.” 

Elias snags Sirius before he can leave as Roderick and Rufus file out with a crazed mania Sirius isn’t sure he enjoys. “You’re certain?”

“Absolutely.” Sirius nods. “Either I brought this forward formally or I did it myself.”

“Be lucky I convinced him to do it formally.” Hadrian says dryly.

Sirius laughs, a bit nervously because it certainly was a convincing and only Hadrian Potter could make sex about work of all fucking things. It was coercion at its finest, but Sirius could agree the idea had merit. Wait, this is a plot, Sirius thinks, sending Hadrian a scathing look, earning a wink in response. He huffs. It was hard to say no to anything when he just wanted to cum but Sirius supposes if it was a, well, serious conversation, he could just bring it up again. 

Elias seems grateful they had discussed this prior, but still smacks Sirius upside the end for his general foolishness before he goes. Hugin slithers onto Sirius’ shoulder when Hadrian draws closer with a happy noise. Sirius rubs his lithe, boned snake body, cooing when he changes into a strange lemur and clings to Sirius’ neck. He was a bit worried about Hugin, who seemed to demand his attention more. He was still his same vivacious self when it came to the houseplants and being insufferable in general but something was off. Sirius supposes it could be due to what he absorbed from Rue and maybe he was overcompensating for the part that clearly didn’t get enough hugs like their little mage. 

Between him, Marlene, and the Potters, Arlette was hugged often, despite her embarrassment. Sirius isn’t sure if he should tell her he plans on ending her father’s life. He wonders if she’d even care. Hadrian flicks him on the forehead, “Worry about that later.” 

“Let me brood in peace.” Sirius sniffs. 

“No.” Hadrian deadpans. “We have a date with Marlene and Cas and I refuse to have to socialize alone because you’re in your head.” 

“Ah, we do.” Sirius mutters. “Do you want a snack, Hugs? Or can you wait until later?”

“You need a snack.” Hadrian huffs, taking his hand. “We’ll eat in my office.” 

“Fine. Fine.” Sirius sulks. “What did you make?”

“Cucumber sandwich for Hugin, Monte Cristo and mangoes for you.” Hadrian sends him a threatening look. “You both will eat all of it.” 

Sirius pales and he can feel Hugin gulp against him. “Yes, sir.”

Hadrian also seemed to notice Hugin acting differently, so he had been more hovery than usual. He was clearly worried but unwilling to voice these things for whatever reason, maybe because he knows Sirius will lie or some nonsense. Sirius squeezes his hand as they walk, “We’re fine. Just adjusting.”

Hadrian’s ears are pink, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I can tell, Hades.” Sirius quips, leans into him, tilting his head up. “We’re still the dream team.”

Hadrian makes a low noise, “I’m not trying to be overbearing.”

“You’re not. I can just tell you’re worried.” Sirius squeezes his hand once more. “I’d tell you if I felt I was in trouble.” 

Hadrian looks at him then looks away with a quiet “thank you”. It makes Sirius’ heart flip. He didn’t mean to worry Big Potter. Granted, he was glad the Little Potter, his deer, hadn’t caught wind of this yet because surely, Sirius wouldn’t hear the end of it. He’d be harassed and badgered and really James should’ve been a Puff for how he clings to Sirius with this undying loyalty that sometimes felt like it made no sense. 

Hadrian’s office is mercifully clear of a threatening Dorcas or a shouldn’t be here but is Marlene so Sirius relaxes. He is gently pushed into the plush office chair he bought for Hadrian, who refuses to use this office for anything beyond impromptu make out sessions and heavy petting than actual work. Sirius decides to be a little shit and spins around as Hadrian sets up their snack for the day. His man had clearly been lying when he said he made just sandwiches and fruit because there is also a small cheese board, water, and an array of those wheat crackers Sirius loves so much.

Sirius sends him a look.

Hadrian blinks, innocent, “All of it.” 

Sirius sighs, taking Hugin in his hand when his bird chirps in excitement. “This is too much.”

“You had an egg for breakfast. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” 

Sirius sulks and sets about arranging the food in a way that makes sense to him. He saves the fruit for last because a little treat is always grand and realizes he was more hungry than he had thought. Sirius does tear off a piece of his sandwich for Hugin to try, who coos over it like a dragon with gold. Hadrian watches them the entire time, clearly pleased with his meddlesome behavior when Sirius puts away everything, then guzzles the fruit like a starved man. 

Sirius deadpans, “Ok. I was hungry.”

“There it is.” Hadrian smirks.

Sirius points a threatening finger at him, “In my defense, I was busy putting together my ‘can we please kick this man’s ass’ presentation together.” He slumps in his seat. “I didn’t think they’d say yes.” 

“If they didn’t, I’d handle it with you.” Hadrian says easily. “I knew they’d agree. There’s no way Crowe would let you handle this alone anyway. He’s playing favorites again.”

“I’m just glad he likes me.” Sirius mutters. “Like meeting your parents all over again.” 

“Can’t believe- Alright.” Hadrian sighs heavily. He pats his lap, “Come take your nap. We have thirty minutes left.”

Sirius sways happily. He pushes to his feet and hurries over to deposit himself neatly in Hadrian’s lap. He grumbles, a bit like a dog, when Hadrian’s arms encircle him. Sirius tucks his face into Hadrian’s neck and sags. Hugin paws gently at Sirius’ dangling legs and Hadrian scoops him up easily, squeezing Hugin between them. Hugin sniffles dramatically, shifting into a strange… well, Sirius doesn’t know what it is but he curls up tight. 

Hadrian huffs, “What is that?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius whispers, shoulder shaking with restrained laughter. 

“It’s cute whatever it is.” 

Hugin makes a pleased noise. 

“I’m not disagreeing.” Sirius laughs. 

“It sounds like you are.” Hadrian sniffs.

Sirius gasps, “I am not.” 

Hugin makes a disagreeing sound and Sirius balks, glaring down at this boned ball of whateverthefuck he is and flicks him. “I will beat you up! And withhold all hugs. Don’t pick sides.”

Hugin wails like the dramatic bastard he is, clinging to Sirius tightly. Sirius sniffs, then decides to be merciful and tugs his bird into his arms, squeezing him roughly and gives him a little shake. “Don’t be goofy. I’m just joking.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t bully him.” Hadrian quips, shuffling a bit to accommodate the new position. “No more fighting. Both of you sleep.”

“You got us in trouble.” Sirius whispers.

Hugin grumbles something that sounds vaguely like an apology which is a bit jarring but who was he. Sirius tucks his face back into Hadrian’s neck, inhaling deeply much to the aggrieved sigh this action gets, and really it wasn’t his fault that his man smelled so good all the time and Sirius could smell himself on him which made his heart squeeze savagely with a dark possession he hadn’t been expecting. 

Sirius chuckles softly, “You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” Hadrian replies, rubbing Sirius’ back slowly. 

“As you damn should.” Sirius huffs, imperious. “I smell anyone else on you that isn’t our family and I will eradicate them.”

Hadrian shifts subtly underneath him and Sirius can tell he’s hard. He sends him a delighted look, thrilled, “The strangest things get you off.” 

Hadrian’s face is pink, “I can’t help it.”

“Do you have… do you have a power kink, Hades?” Sirius whispers. “Is this what this is? I’m hot shit and it gets you off?”

“You breathe and it gets me off.” Hadrian deadpans. 

Sirius laughs, “I love you.”

Hadrian’s face goes impossibly red. He scoffs.

“Say it back.” Sirius demands.

Hadrian glowers at him, cheeks growing darker. 

“Saaaay it.” Sirius sings.

Hadrian pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly embarrassed, “I love you.”

“Wow. It’s almost like you don’t like me.” Sirius pouts.

“You’re being insufferable. I’ve told you this five times already today.”

“I need to hear it ten times a day.”

Hadrian’s mouth twitches into a smile. He kisses Sirius’ forehead, “As you wish.”

Notes:

heehee they're in love your honor

Chapter 47: Reunion

Summary:

Sirius' plan comes to fruition.

Notes:

TWs, violence, blood magic, strand on strand gore and violence

No notes this time, I'm tired and school is kicking my ass.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The wards crackle under Sirius’ touch, the nasty phlegm of old, ancient magic pressing back in harsh assessment. It’s so interwoven into the bones of the estate that even breathing felt like a potential hazard. His plan had worked for the most part, but Cyrus seemed to have truly been expecting him to make a move, which Sirius accounted for. The Aurors had been a helpful addition, packing their ranks with higher ups and skill that kept this class of fucks on edge for them to slip inside. Hugin did a phenomenal job of masking the five of them as well.

Sirius’ fingers glide over the invisible seams, tugging at the strands of protective enchantments as spells patter around him, Hugin draped over him as a bloodied shield as they search together. The estate looms around them, all jagged spires and shadowed windows, even the silhouette was hunched and lost to the moon like a dripping slab of metal that had never felt the sun. Sirius couldn’t wait to burn this shit to the ground. It would be the second thing he did tonight beyond making sure Cyrus’ bones were amongst the rubble and dirt and stone. 

Ah ha, Sirius thinks, feeling a bite of cold tricking through his fingertips and his magic pushes back hotter. He’s never dealt with such tricky wards before beyond Lily’s, who was filthy with her work most times. James had wanted to come but Tennison had soundly refused, realizing the danger that they would be in. Frank wasn’t allowed to join either despite having two years under his belt. Sirius was grateful. It was bad enough worrying about the friends he’s made out of the Brigade than to also worry about James out here with these people. Azkaban had shaken Sirius completely. 

“You got this.” Roderick mutters as he stalks past, voice low but edged with a heat that came whenever he was particularly delighted with a fight. He didn’t need to raise his voice at all; Crowe commanded attention, that magnetic pull of his magic turning the inside of this decrepit pit wonky and strange. The insides of the manor were practically ruins that had long lost their glamorous luster and Sirius was sick to death of looking at them. There is something wriggling in the wards, scrambling just out of reach, and Hugin snatches it before Sirius can and his mind bursts with awe. 

It was Rue.

The walls wail in response when Hugin absorbs the piece into himself and replaces it with a hot slot of what feels like molten lava. Sirius locks down the wards tight, turns them harrowing and desolate and slots in a rune for dissolvent. Several piercing screams fill the air then a slow, sick noise. Roderick claps him on the shoulder, grumbling in pleasure, “Good fuckin’ work, little Wraith.”

Sirius beams.

Silas is crouched a few feet away from them, his wand in one hand, a handgun with runes etched along the barrel in the other. It glows blue then a reddish hue and he aims it at the small opening Sirius creates in the wards. A shimmer of red occurs then an updated landscape of the map. Dorcas moves over to study, wand twirling idly in hand as Silas switches to take her place. She insisted on coming even when Sirius was adamant she stay home. Marlene would never forgive me, Dorcas had said. I’m with you, Siri. 

“Good job.” Elias says gruffly, still displeased that Sirius came along but he has yet to voice these complaints, which is grand.

Sirius feels so on edge right now and he can’t even relax for how silent it suddenly becomes. Hadrian is a quiet shadow on his other side, eyes flickering rapidly, and he’s on his feet in a blink, firing off a complex series of spells that Roderick and Silas fall up behind. Figures spill from open doorways and the crumbling upper level, cloaked shapes wielding a nasty, corrupted magic. It feels like Rue but worse. Sickly. Hugin bristles in response, crackling the air like lightning and Dorcas is moving, fluid and precise. 

Sirius locks down the wards tight, struggling to keep his focus divided as Hugin bubbles inside him in hot demand. Hadrian is suddenly beside him, breath misting in the cold, frigid air, and he grasps Sirius suddenly, tugging him to the ground as a blistering heatwave spreads throughout the foyer hall. His voice is low, “We’re splitting up. They’re trying to flank.”

Sirius’ mind races, for a hot second terrified that something will go wrong. “Marry me.”

Hadrian stutters, which is surprising and startling. He manages a “huh” that sounds more like a “what” and manages to have his wits enough to throw up a shield when a spell is thrown their way. Sirius grasps his hand, “After this. You said forever.”

“I did.” Hadrian replies.

“After this.” Sirius swallows.

Hadrian searches his face frantically, “Is that what you want?”

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I didn’t.” Sirius replies. “But… but if something happens, I want you to know I would’ve married you.”

“Nothing will happen.” Hadrian hisses furiously.

“I have betrothal papers.” Sirius laughs, a bit crazed. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels crazy, beyond crazy and surely this is what madness looks like. It didn’t have to be tomorrow or a year from now or two but he needed Hadrian to know. Sirius may not be serious about most things but he was serious about Hadrian. Hadrian’s hand tightens in his own.

His chest tightens and Hadrian smiles, faint and a whisper. He presses their foreheads together, eyes softening, “You can have anything of me. It’ll be fine. Just like we discussed. I love you. Good luck, babe.”

The words hit harder than any spell, harder than any curse.

Sirius doesn’t have time to respond. 

A burst of dark magic explodes between right after Hadrian pushes him out of the way, raw and violent. Hugin is around him immediately, the shockwave lifting Sirius off his feet and flinging him back like a ragdoll. His bird takes most of the blow and he grits his teeth in pain at the shuddering feel. Hugin whines around him. I’m here with you, Sirius sooths, stumbling to his feet. He staggers to his feet, first noticing the eerie silence then in the distant, steady thumps. The foyer entry is gone, Hadrian is gone, leaving only a deserted hallway before him. There are dusty, decrepit paintings on the wall, portraits of a woman whose face has been burned and slashed. 

This must’ve been Seraphina, Sirius thinks, wand in hand as he pushes forward. He can hear fighting and spells in the distance, knows his comrades are amongst those raised, muted voices and feels his resolve firm. I love you. Good luck, babe. Sirius would not let Hadrian down and when they meet once more, Sirius will listen to his man say ‘I told you so’ and they’ll get ice cream like they always do whenever Hadrian’s home from a mission and Sirius is has had a hard day. Then they’d have a real serious conversation about what Sirius said. It was out in the open now.

The wards are screaming in his mind, their defense mechanism fully engaged. He could feel the pulse of ancient magic wrapping around his core, trying to latch on and pull him under. Cyrus was attempting to gain control of the wards again, but Hugin remains steadfast and resolute. Sirius’ grip tightens on his wand, eyes roving over the empty hallway. He wonders what it would’ve looked like in its prime, if it had maintained like the remaining homes left behind by the le Fay. Sirius wonders what would’ve happened if Seraphina hadn’t stepped out of line. Would someone eventually do the same? Would they have rejected their magic? Would he have had a family? A place with Orion, Isolde. Would he have laughed more as a child?

And then, without warning, something hooks into him. Dark. Cold. Alive.

It feels a bit like falling into a void. The world spins, shadows folding over him until there was nothing but darkness and the faint, distant echo of Hadrian’s voice in his memory. When Sirius hits the ground again, it’s with a lurch, stone stretched out beneath him. Col, slick with something that smelled faintly metallic, blood, water, Sirius didn’t know. He groans, forcing himself upright. The room was dim, lit only flickering torches embedded in cracked stone walls. The air is thick with magic. It smells and feels like Rue, oppressive and cloying.

Across the chamber stands Cyrus. 

He’s exactly as Sirius remembers, sharp angles, cold eyes that burn with an incessant hatred that Sirius feels in his very soul. But there was something different about him now, something dark, feral. Rue is coiled around his shoulders, pulsing with faint light, its many eyes gleaming with malice and dripping in fury. Sirius has never seen a such a hateful look. Magic should never feel this way, should never look this way. Hugin whips out with a snarl, earning a loud hiss in response. Sirius runs a hand along Hugin’s bone spine, reveling in how he presses back against him. Rue ripples in rage. 

“Well,” Cyrus greets, his voice smooth as oil. “We meet again, Lord le Fay.”

Sirius cocks an eyebrow, straightening to his full height despite the ache slowly receding from his ribs. His wand feels like an extension of himself as Hugin did. Regardless of whoever this man thought he was, Sirius was more than him and in turn, he would not lose here. “For the last time.”

Sirius’ voice is more firm than he expected. Cyrus looks him over, Rue dripping and pulsing against him like an oil spill, bristling with barely restrained rage as Hugin settles against him. 

“This is your last chance,” Cyrus tells him, almost mournfully. “I’m willing to share it. I had never believed what my mother had told me about the le Fay. I knew we could be more with their help. She disagreed. Be with us.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Liar. You couldn’t even share with your children.”

“Children,” Cyrus spits, the words curling against his lips like a sneer. “Burdens. Weak. Sniveling, little parasites clinging to me like they deserved to do so. I never wanted to be a father but what other use do such things have? Roshan was weak and spineless. Jonathan had promise when he was young but he grew into such an abomination.” He glares at Sirius furiously. “Arlette’s only use was to continue on and nothing more.”

Sirius bristles, rage burning inside him. “Arlette is more than you will ever be.”

Cyrus laughs harshly, “More than I? No, no. I was destined for greatness yet I was shackled by the incompetence of these parasites, shackled by the expectations of family who didn’t have the honor of even having a name. More than failures. Worthless. How many names you cling to, boy. Black and now, le Fay. Was it not enough that you slandered a family name once more that you move onto-”

“If you’re finished.” Sirius interrupts cooly. He manages to keep his head, knowing this man is trying to have him unfocused and riled up. 

Cyrus laughs once more, sharp and hollow. “You’re just another fool playing hero, pretending just as I am. Power isn’t built on love, on family,” He spits. “It is taken. It is wielded.” 

Sirius has had enough, enough of this man and his games and his words. Hugin yowls low in agreement. Of us, he hisses in Sirius’ mind. 

Sirius says, “Let’s get this over with.”

Cyrus smiles, thin and sharp, “As you wish, boy.”

The battle explodes without warning.

Cyrus strikes first, a spear of black magic, jagged and seething, rips through the space where Sirius had just been. Sirius rolls, coming up fast, wand flicking in a vicious arc. His curse hit the wall behind Cyrus, missing by an inch as the bastard sidestepped with an unnatural grace. Rue hisses, strands whipping through the air like razor wire.

Sirius dodges but Hugin snags one, grasping it tightly with a grotesque jaw and yanks harshly. Rue is sent flying into a wall and Sirius moves, retaliating with a brutal cutting hex that forces Cyrus to retreat a step. Cyrus does not waiver as he had before, pushing back with more dexterity than Sirius had been expecting. The old man clearly had been practicing in their short time apart. Suppose he remembered himself, Sirius thinks, absently amused.

It dissolves into chaos, shattered stone, streaks of fires and the metallic tang of blood in the air. Hugin erupts into form beside Sirius, something monstrous and avian and canine, wings of jagged feathers stretching wide like a shadow, each feather edged with flickers of dark, burning light. He was, for once, true to form outside of Candy Mountain so massive and incredible that Sirius nearly loses focus. The growl that ripples from his throat vibrates the ground beneath them, a deep, resonant threat that felt older than any of them.

Time seems to ripple through the air and from the fractured space between dimensions, Rue surges forth, answering the call like an echo from the abyss. A monstrous, writing mass, Rue’s form defied easy comprehension much like Hugin often does, an amalgamation of sinew and shadows and glistening strands that move like tendrils of liquid glass, refracting light in painful shards. Its sparrow’s eyes remain, iridescent and merciless, as it stares Hugin down.

Sirius shifts his weight, watching them collide together with a soundless explosion, the very air ripping apart where they meet. Hugin strikes first, a blinding slash of talons aiming to tear through Rue’s shifting mass. Rue, in turn, responds like water, folding and reforming around the strike, tendrils lashing out like spears made of fragmented glass. One grazes Hugin’s wing, slicing through membrane but Hugin continues unbothered, snarling in hot offense.

“Fantastic, isn’t he?” Cyrus cackles, shooting off another hex.

“Of course he is, he’s mine.” Sirius responds, countering with two hexes of his own. “Your bird ain’t half bad though.”

Hugin spins midair, wings folding tight as he dives with impossible speed, his jaws unhinging and spilling with rows upon rows of jagged teeth. He sinks them into Rue’s mass, tearing a chunk free and Cyrus flinches. Sirius follows up with a set of spells, heart hammering in his chest as the strand wails. It shakes the walls, the ground, and Sirius’ own heart. He knows this is what must be done but his heart aches for Rue, for this trial it must endure at their hand. 

“Clever.” Cyrus hisses angrily. 

Rue’s retaliation is vicious, tendrils stabbing into Hugin’s side, piercing through his flesh and Sirius feels it. He staggers back, conjuring a shield when Cyrus takes advantage. His teeth chatters in pain, blinking back the harsh bite of tears as he struggles through it. Hugin roars, thrashing wildy, wings beating with a hurricane’s force and he tears free from Rue’s grip with a spray of dark mist. Sirius tries to divide his attention between the strands and Cyrus but the old man is pulling out all the stops.

Sirius fights with everything he had, the cusp of his missions breathing down the back of his neck, the long training sessions with the Brigade, years of feeling like a waste to someone who never should’ve had the honor of calling themselves his mother. Cyrus is relentless, magic fueled by something dark and old, every spell felling like it drains all light and warmth from their very presence. But Sirius was more than rage. More than vengeance. He was fighting for his family he never had the honor of meeting, fighting for the lives lost to these games, fighting for Arlette and for Hadrian to have the right to say I told you so.

I love you.

I love you.

His voice is like a swell of spring, like the warm morning of a winter’s day, and Sirius will be fucking damned if he never hears it again. Hadrian’s bracelet on his wrist feels so warm against his skin, glistening in the low light spectacularly. I love you. Sirius wonders how Hadrian feels right now, if they feel the same, worried, panicked and perhaps this will be their future for the rest of their lives, worrying about the other with the jobs they have, laughing over it after. 

Cyrus falters for a fraction of a second, and that was all Sirius needed. He launches forward, wand moving with deadly precision, casting a chain of spells but Cyrus grins, wide and haunting and it sears into Sirius’ mind like a brand. Oh, he thinks. This was a trap. Sirius mind scrambles to think as his leg locks beneath him, a narrow, thin strand snagging his leg and the world seems to slow around them. The world seems to slow, Hugin bracing over Rue like a calamity at the end, how his beak rips a chunk from the strands body yet Cyrus smiles.

For some reason, his mind blurs into a mirage of images. He’s peering over his father’s arm as he looks over Wizengamot policies, still so small so his father has to lift him into his lap, then he’s meeting James for the first time, how their smiles mirror one another when they landed in the same house, then it’s hesitantly meeting Hadrian, who happened to be home, for the first time and bowing to him as he introduced himself, and then it’s the Potters, always so warm and welcoming whenever he drops by, even unannounced, and more images spring forward like a slideshow. His days at Hogwarts, holding hands with his friends, their arguments, their laughter and Isolde is last, her eyes full of mirth as she regales him with tales upon tales.

Oh, Sirius thinks as the world spins into sharp clarity. 

I love you, his mind hears.

Sirius isn’t fast enough.

Hugin isn’t fast enough.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Notes:

I considered sitting on this a bit longer but just decided fuck it all to hell. Yolo.

Chapter 48: Of Us

Summary:

A le Fay reaches the end, the end reaches back.

Notes:

Tw, death, violence, gore, blood, blood magic

ehe I have no excuses for my cliffhanger

- Hadrian "absolutely not" Potter vs Death "we had foreseen this" Daddy
- Sirius has a wittle chat
- Sirius has a chip on his shoulder
- and a debt to settle

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The sunlight filters warmly through the trees above, soft and radiant with how they turn into bright shades of liquid fire. Sirius studies them, watching a breeze drift through the leaves overhead. It feels so warm here, like the morning of a spring day where everything is soft and dewy. Sirius doesn’t know how he managed to find this place, but it’s so nice. 

“Oh, what is this?” A familiar voice comes from all around him.

Sirius pushes onto his elbows, noticing a figure striding towards him, their robes shrouded and imposing like the depths of charcoal before it unearthed. He knows this face but he can’t quite place it, knows this voice, but it felt much older than him. It is a man, eyes a bright kaleidoscope of colors that are aged and withered, his smile jovial and sweet. He bows deeply to Sirius, “Lord le Fay, it has been some time since our last meeting.”

Lord… le Fay? Sirius thinks, fighting back a frown as his mind bursts forth into realization. I love you. He scrambles to his knees, frantically looking around, but he is clearly no longer in the chamber with Cyrus. Hugin is no where to be seen and Sirius can’t feel him at all. He inhales slowly, tears stinging his eyes, “I failed?”

“Not at all,” Death responds smoothly, gesturing to the bracelet on Sirius’ wrist. The one Hadrian gave him after their month apart. “It has barely been a millisecond, but you have been here for a long time.”

Sirius staggers to his feet, feeling winded, “Where is here?”

“The in between,” Death tells him. “It varies per person, but how curious that your mother and your father’s place was the same as yours.”

Sirius doesn’t understand, peering around, and he notices the creek stretched out behind him, rocks breaking through gentle moving water and sparkling in the light. It was the same place Isolde had shown him, where Orion, the intimidating man of Sirius’ youth was nowhere to be seen as he smiled so softly. Sirius inhales softly, a gasp threatening to choke him as realization settles over him, “I’m dead but you said I haven’t failed.”

“Because you are not dead, Lord le Fay.” Death says simply. “Think of it more like a near death experience.”

Sirius swallows, “How is this possible?”

Death smiles kindly, “My little master has accepted in his place. In turn, I give him me.”

“His… place.” Sirius gasps. He never thought Hadrian would agree.

“The Master of Death.” Death grins, sharp. “I have long waited for the day, Sirius le Fay. I knew the moment he had you in his sight that I would not have to wait any longer. Fate has had this written since the beginning and I am a dutiful follower.”

“Is this why you invested in the le Fay?” Sirius asks, curious. 

“Oh, you’ve found me out.” Yes, Lord le Fay.” Death hums, cheerful. “I knew this house would flourish above all, beyond all. My loyalties have always been split amongst the le Fay, the Rudrapatha, and the Peverells as destined by the Mother.”

“You gave us the strand.” Sirius whispers, realization dawning on him.

Death makes a thoughtful noise. “I have Nadia the idea. Merely a whisper. It is amazing what blood magic can do when it is mixed with black magic.”

“But… you said.. Death is an old friend of the le Fay. We didn’t court your magic like the Rudrapatha and the Peverells.”

Death hums happily, “A gift between friends. It is not often I invest in human affairs but I knew your line would not disappoint me.”

Sirius laughs, he can’t help it otherwise he might say something foolish. He doesn’t know what to think, how to feel but gratitude blossoms in his chest. The Potters were truly too good to him. Hadrian had always been so crafty so he shouldn’t be surprised that this was his plot all along. Sirius peers down at the bracelet, its eerie glow, the mouth of the fox curving into the scythe and his heart threatens to burst. I love you. Where have you been all my life, Sirius thinks, eyes watering. He forces his head up, “How long have I been gone?”

“A second now.” Death says cheerfully. “Are you ready to return?”

Sirius looks back at the creek, the softening trees and skies and wonders. “Can I see my parents?”

Death’s eyes shine, “If you wish.” 

Would they panic upon seeing him? Would they fear that he was taken from the land of the living? They were both at peace, at least some extension of Isolde was. Sirius hesitates then decides against it, knowing there are things he must do, a task he must complete. He straightens, squaring his shoulders and meets Death’s gaze evenly, relishing in the spark of heavy approval, and says, “Take me back, please.”

“As you wish, Lord le Fay.”

Sirius blinks and he is back in the chamber, Cyrus dying cackle slowly dwindling from the air. Rue lies, twitching and weak, from where Hugin has dismembered it, a low song filling the air. Desperate confusion ripples across Cyrus’ face as he sees Sirius still standing, wand clutched tight in his hand. Sirius shoots him a smile, slicing his palm open with the tip of his wand, and Cyrus panics, firing off spell after spell. Hugin snaps to Sirius instantly, his relief palpable and like a soothing balm over Sirius’ soul. I’m here, he thinks, feeling emboldened, invincible, and every second they spent together Hadrian has been looking out for Sirius. He would not let this sacrifice go to waste, knowing Hadrian was hesitant on accepting his place to begin with. 

“I have him.” Sirius whispers. “Take what’s left.”

Hugin snarls in dangerous approval, roiling off him like a sludge of teeth and wings and Sirius swipes his blood into the air, watching it grow hot and boiling and fires off bloodied beams of light towards Cyrus. The man scrambles, his shoulder getting pierced as he manages to dodge a few. He screams in agony, baring his teeth into a snarl as he fires off a complex set of spells. Sirius’ palm drips and he angles his wand up in a fast fluid motion. The ground trembles beneath them, stone colliding with Cyrus’ attack and sending rubble and debris scattering about. 

Sirius barely has time to duck as jagged piece of stone flies past his face, slicing his cheek open. God, not the fucking face, he thinks. The sting is nothing compared to the raw fury burning through his veins, realization settling into him. He had died. He had died. This man and really tried to kill him and yet, here he stands. The surprise in Cyrus’ face ebbs into dark recognition in his piercing gaze.

“Ah,” He spits. “So you’ve managed to save yourself.” 

Sirius doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, His wand flicks, and the air between them ignites, a streak of white hot fire slicing through the chamber. Cyrus manages to deflect, eyes widening as a spark of contempt passes through him. Sirius catches glimpses of Hugin and Rue’s fight, a mess of shadows and limbs like two wild animals fighting over scraps, but he keeps his focus of Cyrus, who side steps another blast of magic. His own spell ripples out in response, tendrils of deep, violet light lunging towards Sirius like a snake. Sirius twists his wrist, blood sparking in his palm as he summons a shield that ripples as it catches it and spits it out just as fast. Cryus’ surprise is amusing. 

Sirius moves, spreading blood along the crumbling ground. He watches Cyrus scramble, firing off sickly green after sickly green and Sirius breezes through it, his mind fracturing for a split second where he sees Death once more before he’s back in the chamber. I’m ending this, Sirius thinks furiously, planting one foot down and swings the other as he mutters, “Construct.” 

The ground wails in response, crumbling ruins pulling together to create a moving slab of disproportions. It comes together as statue of sorts, building higher to the ceiling as it yowls rock and debris. Sirius rubs his palms together, “Tevyat.”

It snatches Cyrus up, who manages a scream, cowering at the sheer volume of the thing holding him, baring down with soulless eyes and a mouth made of crushed stone. He cries out, begs, pleads, but all Sirius can hear is him calling his children useless, all he can see is Roshan dying as he held his hand, Arlette’s precious hesitance as she learns she can ask for anything. Sirius moves his wand in one fluid motion, blood sparking along the tip, “Morbus Crux.” 

Cyrus dies with a gurgle, body crumpled and crushed into nothing as stone hands work him into the messy shape of a ball. Rue wails, trembling the walls around them and the very chamber itself. The stone creature implodes on itself taking Cyrus’ broken body with it as it crumbles into rubble. Sirius hurries to Hugin’s side, dodging crumbling debris. Hugin has Rue pinned once more, his mouth a nightmare of teeth and beaks and Rue bucks against him, singing violently as it struggles with his weight and the loss of its container. So it could exist without him, Sirius thinks, how terrifying. He comes to kneel beside, taking in those frantic eyes when they settle on him. 

“Come home.” Sirius says aloud, unbothered with how the chamber groans dangerously.

Rue hisses at him, frightened and furious as it struggles more. Hugin bares down with an ugly snarl. Sirius pats his massive form, staring deep into those sparrow’s eyes, “Come home.”

He places a gentle hand on the terrifying face Rue has taken on and feels a spark. His mind ripples, seeing images of the extent of Cyrus’ hatred, his fear towards Sirius building each time he monitored his movements, his progression as a le Fay, and Sirius pushes back, showing Rue every time Hugin destroyed the houseplants, how he gets hugs, and a bunch of nonsense that feels like trying to convince a child that you are a cool dad.

When Rue accepts him, it is the strangest phenomena, where there is a burst in the back of his mind and ripples of memories that aren’t his own but are now his all the same. He can feel Hugin’s steadfast resolve, how it meets Rue’s hesitant offering and they meld together with a sharp lurch inside him. Sirius watches in quiet awe as they move before him, like two puzzles finally slotting into place, how those monstrous forms grow smaller and smaller as they circle and circle.

A tremor of energy pulses outward, a shimmer in the air that cracks the very span of time, something vast and primal. Hugin and Rue twist through one another, their once spread presences meshing into something new and whole. Hugin’s monstrous, bone body melds into Rue’s shadowed feathers, their outlines flickering between avian and ethereal shapes. Sirius can make out flashes of wings, so massive and brilliant, how they hum in unison, their voices overlapping in his mind as they meld and meld and meld into one voice. Sirius presses a hand to his temple as a rush of knowledge and pain and instincts flood through him. He grits his teeth, feeling it all, Hugin’s possessive protective streak, Rue’s feral caution, and the remnants of something older than either of them whispering at the edges of his consciousness.

Sirius’ nose drips blood, then there is a snap. Final and resolute.

Sirius wipes his face, staggering backward as the final pulse of power ripples through the air. A bright light bursts forth and Sirius has to shield his eyes, overwhelmed, and a high pitch ringing ripples through his ears. Then there is darkness. Sirius peaks between his fingers to see nothing before him and gasps. He can feel Hugin, feel Rue, but there is nothing before him. His core pulses inside him with a readiness he’s never felt before, an incredible, warm feeling. Sirius pushes himself to his feet, peering around the crumbling chamber and says, “Hugs?”

There is a chirp then the haunting call above him. Sirius looks up, seeing the prettiest, strangest bird he’s ever seen. Its wings are sleek and shimmer in shades of pale silver and deep charcoal as though dusted by remnants of fire, of ruin. It moves at an eerie grace, incredibly silent but those eyes train on Sirius with such ferocity, all molten violet, and bright like the stars. Sirius’ breath catches in his chest when it lands before him, nearly his size, and bows. He hesitantly holds out a hand, “Hugin?”

Another strange call, the push of silky feathers between his fingers and his mind ripples with soft elation. Sirius hadn’t known what would happen once they became one, but he is grateful his bird remains at his side. The face is a bit like a harrier, but the talons are spectral and grotesque looking. Sirius holds out his other hand and Hugin puffs up with pleasure, shifting into a smaller form that settles between his palms like a golden ray of sun. Sirius hugs him tightly, relieved, elated. He manages a laugh, “I thought you’d leave me behind.” 

Never. Of us.

Of us, Sirius thinks, settling Hugin on his shoulder. He hesitates then looks down at the coagulated blood on his hand, then to the broken, destroyed body of Cyrus. He touches the wards, feels nothing bite back at him and searches for his companions and the aurors that arrived with them. They’re scattered about with different signatures facing them and Sirius breathes, snatching their assailants by their very essence, and hesitates. Hugin pulses in demand. Sirius breathes and wonders, “Morbus Crux.” 

The signatures vanish like sludge through a film. He sniffs, pleased at the ripple of power surging through him. No one could touch him now, no one could touch his family, either. Sirius rubs Hugin’s feathered head, “Let’s go find our friends.” 

Hugin makes a kek noise in response, tucking himself into the curve of Sirius’ neck and settles. Sirius leaves the chamber without a glance back.

Notes:

The abracadabra song by Lady Gaga was on repeat when I wrote this. So when Sirius came back from death, imagine the drama teehee.

we'll be reunited with our man in the next chapter

Chapter 49: Greatness

Summary:

Wandering about the estate

Notes:

No TWs, just vibes

We get a POV shift at the end :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

There is a bedroom attached to the chamber. It is a grotesque mocker of comfort, a space where opulence was allowed to be birthed and readied in comparison to the rest of the estate. Sirius pauses, realizing this must be Cyrus’ chambers. The scent of burning flesh and spent magic clings in the air and makes Sirius’ nose burn. It’s thick in his lungs but he doesn’t cough. Sirius steps deeper into the room, eyes sweeping over obsidian furniture, deep emerald silks, and the thick, dust laden books that sit untouched. There is a vanity with a shattered mirror that catches Sirius’ eye, the cracks warping the reflection into something twisted.

His boots are heavy and loud against the cold marble floor, and Sirius can’t help but lightly drag his fingers over a well worn desk. It’s clutter with parchment, half written letters and maps. Plans, names, rituals, but Sirius catches his own name written almost obsessively over and over on a few pages. He snorts quietly, feeling Hugin burrow into the curve of his neck. Cyrus’ last attempts at control, now meaningless. A silver dagger rests atop one letter, the blade still slick with dried blood. Sirius almost wonders who he had used it on but finds.

Finds he doesn’t care.

Sirius moves towards the grand four poster bed, sheets still rumpled from where Cyrus had last lain, the pillows dented as if he had spent many nights writhing in unrest. There are restraints sewn into the headboard, worn from use, and Sirius sneers. He flicks his hand, magic spurning through his fingers and the restraints rip off with a sickening noise. Sirius sets them on fire for good measure, disgusted, and strangely furious.

Then his eyes land on the nightstand. A small, black lacquered box sits upon it, adorned with runes that pulse faintly. Sirius looks it over, then closes his hand over the top, feels a spark of magic shove back, and crushes the box between his hands. It crumbles like dust, a ring clattering onto the nightstand. It’s small, simple, dark metal, etched with an old sigil Sirius recognizes from his family’s journals and grimoires. The ring gives off a sickly pulse and Hugin puffs up against him.

“This must’ve been Seraphina’s.” Sirius whispers, taking it between his fingers. He doesn’t understand why this man still had this. There is a rune for forever and death inlaid on the band. Hugin shifts against him, slithering up his arm as a dusty mamba and Sirius is so startled that he nearly drops the ring. He gotten so used to Hugin being a monstrosity of some kind that he truly hadn’t saw this coming. Sirius watches Hugin take the ring into his ghastly looking mouth and supposes that not everything has changed.

Hugin ripples against him, gags, then rears up to spit the ring back into Sirius’ hand. It feels much better now, the dark metal eroded to a fine white gold with a singular garnet in the center. Oh, Sirius thinks, studying it intently. He wonders if Cyrus knew it’s true form and was furious he couldn’t get it to change back. Or maybe he didn’t know or didn’t care. This, like Rue, had been Cyrus’ tether, his claim to power, the last remnant of a line that had long been severed.

And now, like the man himself, none of it meant a thing. 

Sirius considers the ring, rolling it between his fingers as Hugin moves back to his shoulder as a harrier. He considers destroying it but thinks better of it. Sirius would give it to Arlette, soon to be a le Fay, and a Potter, if he had it his way. He exhales softly, sliding the ring into his pocket, and turns. There was nothing here for him now, nothing left of Cyrus but his crumpled remains and failure.

Sirius leaves without looking back.

Hadrian finds him first, of course he does. He looks formidable in the low light of this desolate estate but Sirius is distracted by how his shoulders go slack with relief before he sweeps Sirius and their bird into his arms before either of them say a word. Sirius grasps him back tightly, feeling the hard pound of his heart, how Hugin rubs aggressively against Hadrian’s face. Delight sweeps through him like a final ray of sun and Sirius sags against him, happy to be in Hadrian’s arms again. Hadrian kisses the top of Hugin’s feathered head before kissing Sirius again and again. 

“I told you so.” He sniffs.

Sirius laughs, delighted, “You cheated.”

“I did no such thing.” Hadrian huffs, affronted. He gathers Sirius’ face in his hands and kisses him hard. Sirius sighs against him, touching the sharp curve of Hadrian’s jaw, and melts. God, he can’t believe he died only for this foolish man to have literally told literal Death off. We need to talk about this, Sirius thinks, but his mouth is busy and Hadrian feels so good against him so he tucks all reservations for future Sirius to worry about. His heart swells with gratitude and so much love that it makes him feel like some lovesick child. 

“Your hair has changed.” Hadrian tells him.

Sirius laughs, “Am I ugly?”

“You are as stunning as you always are, Riri.”

“Do I match Hugin?” Sirius asks.

Hadrian hums, taking in Hugin’s newly minted form with a private smile. His gaze flickers between them and he nods. Hugin chirps musically, pleased. He conjures a mirror before Sirius can think to do so, gently pushing it into his hands. Sirius stares at Hadrian, his quiet certainty, then peers down at his reflection as Hugin shuffles into his neck with a little chirp. His hair is a pale silver now with a striking swipe of charcoal black that starts at his left temple and slashes it way back, much like the color of Hugin’s feathers now. 

Sirius feels his eyes water. They were well and truly one and he wasn’t left behind. He had many concerns he didn’t bother sharing before as they had felt foolish and childish but absorbing Rue felt like such a final action. Would the magic choose to stay with the container now that it was one? Would they be one and Sirius would never experience Hugin as a separate entity? Now Sirius had the answer to his gamble. Hugin nips softly at his chin and Sirius feels his shoulders deflate.

“Why did you do it?” He asks, looking back up. “Accept your place.”

“I’d rather accept it than you leave me behind, whether on this earth or beyond.” Hadrian tells him. “I refused to take any chances. Caelum knows this.”

“Am I worth all that?” Sirius asks curiously. Yes, a voice in his mind whispers.

Hadrian gives him an amused look. “This decision was nothing. You are worth far more.”

Sirius’ heart skips a beat, “Does this make you a Lord now?”

“I suppose it does.” Hadrian’s lips quirk upward. He hesitates minutely before the words spill out as if he hadn’t meant them to. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I’d marry you?” Sirius asks.

Hadrian’s cheeks go pink, “Yes.”

“Don’t be stupid, Hades.” Sirius takes Hadrian’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I think Arlie would make a wonderful le Fay Potter.”

Hadrian’s expression cracks with a precious delight, “She may faint.”

“God, she would.” Sirius laughs. “Can I burn this place down?”

Hadrian makes a thoughtful noise, peering around at the dilapidated, crumbling estate around them. He looks back to Sirius, “Is that what you want? Your history is here.”

“Just a severed part.” Sirius replies. “I don’t want anything from the woman who caused all this. I don’t want to understand them.”

“Then burn it down.” Hadrian says with finality. 

Hugin chirps in agreement. 

Sirius sends them both a look, amused, “Let’s find our people first. Would hate to be charged with assault.”

“Would put a damper on the day.” Hadrian quips. “Jay would be upset.”

“Hell. He’s going to eat me.” Sirius groans dramatically. James was going to kick his ass. It was bad enough that his deer wasn’t allowed to join on this excursion despite his heavy demands, but if he found out Sirius had literally died only to not actually die because of Big Potter’s manipulations- no, it’s best that Prongs does not know, Sirius thinks wildly. He would never be allowed out of the house! Sirius has never been grounded the muggle way, but surely he would be!

“I’ll keep your secret.” Hadrian says serenely.

Wow! How nice!

“Let’s get married today.” Sirius blurts out.

Hadrian’s face goes scarlet. He glares at Sirius, “Stop. You’re making my heart race.”

“Oh, shit.” Sirius whispers, awed.

Hadrian glares, if possible, more, clearly embarrassed. “Ah, inside thought.”

“Make them all outside thoughts.” Sirius encourages. Hugin makes an agreeing noise.

“Be silent.” Hadrian mutters, turning away.

“No, no.” Sirius chips, grasping his arm. “No take backs.”

“Hate it here.” Hadrian sniffs and really, this man has spent too much time with one Sirius le Fay. He does, however, allow Sirius to link their arms together as he steers Sirius out of the crumbling hallway they had found each other in. Sirius takes a moment to take in the portraits they pass, how there are more and more pictures of Seraphina with her face slashed to ribbons. He ponders over Cyrus, his hatred towards his own line despite how he desired it. Sirius looks forward, dismissive. They had both made their beds and now one of them was dead. 

“I’ve decided to let things go.” Sirius tells Hadrian.

“I had noticed.” Hadrian responds. “Our bird seemed to agree with your request.”

“I feel vindicated enough.” Sirius sniffs. “At least now I can be the true villain they believed me to be.”

“Not everyone is meant to understand your anger.” Hadrian replies. “I expect nothing less of you.”

Sirius gives him a look, “You make me sound predictable.”

Hadrian snorts, “What is it Severus said? He pitied them once you were finished with your sulking?”

Sirius squawks, offended. “You two are officially the worst-”

“Well, I’ll take this as you found him.” Roderick chirps, popping up beside them. His eyes are incredibly gold, uniform in pristine condition in comparison to how Sirius last saw him. Roderick doesn’t bother shooing Hadrian away, just gathers them both in his arms and lifts with a wet sniffle and shakes gently. It’s giving James Potter, so Sirius laughs, hugging his boss back tightly. Roderick ruffles his hair when he sets them back down. “What did I say, little Wraith? Scary. Shit.” 

“We really shaped this one.” Hadrian comments, looking smug as fuck.

“Didn’t we?” Roderick hisses, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Not like I can’t forget getting my ass handed to me.”

“You took reframe to new levels, little Wraith.” Roderick rubs his chin. “Though I suppose we must now refer to you as Wraith.”

Sirius pulls a face, earning two low laughs. He had just accepted little Wraith as a nickname. These men! Sirius huffs, gesturing to Hugin, who has settled on Roderick’s shoulder, “Then he can be little Wraith.”

“Accepted!” Roderick shouts, passionate.

Hadrian’s eyebrow twitches, but he makes no commentary, seemingly amused, and takes Sirius’ hand in his own. 

Roderick looks Hugin up and down. “So this is what he truly looks like?”

Hugin chirps musically, puffing his chest.

“The bones had grown on me.” Roderick sniffs. “Feathers I can deal with, however.” 

Hugin sags as does Sirius, relieved, and Roderick nods very seriously. 

Hadrian laughs, “Why do I entertain any of you?” 

“Because you love us.” Roderick deadpans.

“You do.” Sirius nods. He salutes his captain, “I’m setting this place on fire. Don’t tell me no.”

Roderick’s eyes sparkle, “What a fantastic idea.”

“Isn’t it?” Hadrian hums.

Sirius fist pumps, “Yes!”

 

-

 

Dec 15, 1959

 

The chamber is dimly lit, the warm glow of enchanted sconces and candles casting soft shadows along alabaster, stone walls. The air is heady with the smell of herbs and the crackle of magic as it had been since the scent of new life was brought forth. 

Isolde lays against a mound of pillows, body still weak but triumphant even as her long, dark hair clings to her skin. Despite her exhaustion, she has never felt more fulfilled; despite how her body weakens by the day, she has longed for this moment since the healers told her she was with child. Even weak, power hums beneath her skin, the remnants of old rites that had guided their son safely into the world.

Her son.

Their son.

Sirius.

Isolde cradles the infant against her chest, fingertips ghosting over the delicate curve of his cheek. He is so small, so warm, his tiny body curled into her as if he still belonged to her completely. His breath is soft, even, his tiny hands clenched into fists as he peers up at her with those strange eyes. Her mother’s eyes, her eyes. Arcturus’ eyes, Orion’s eyes. So small, but already so strong. Sirius’ magic felt like herald of a new age, like a warm beacon of light cutting through the dark woods and oh, how Isolde loved him. 

Sirius smiles, sweet and gummy and her heart sings with elation.

Orion stands at the edge of her bed, stiff as ever, but there is an uncertainty to him, a rawness, that makes her ache. His eyes are icy, frigid like a storm cloud but they soften as they trace over Sirius in her arms. Something unreadable flickers across his face and Isolde laughs softly, earning a coo from her lovely baby.

“You are quiet, my love.” She murmurs, shifting slightly to meet his gaze. Her voice is hoarse but manages to hold that sharp amusement she has only ever reserved for Orion Black. “Don’t be so unnerved by fatherhood.”

Orion’s jaw tenses, chastised, “I am simply thinking.”

“A dangerous pastime,” Isolde teases, feeling her face soften. “What thoughts weigh on Orion Black?”

His gaze flickers towards Sirius again, “He is… small.”

Isolde laughs, she can’t help it, and Sirius giggles. “They tend to be, at first.”

Orion cuts those silver eyes in that way of his, clearly unamused, but still takes a seat at her bedside when Isolde reaches out a hand to him. He gently takes her hand and Sirius makes a little noise, staring at his father with wide, unblinking eyes, and Orion’s expression goes impossibly soft. 

“He will not stay small for long, my love.” Isolde whispers. 

“He is small, yet I can feel him.” Orion responds, hesitantly reaching out a hand. His long, elegant fingers brush over Sirius’ little fist and their baby unfurls just enough to grab his index finger. “How bold, little star.”

“He will change the world.” Isolde hums tiredly, running her thumb along Sirius’ soft nose. “His blood sings with the old magic. He will be something neither of us can begin to imagine. Something more. Something to bring my magic to its knees.”

Orion inhales slowly, watching in quiet awe as Sirius rolls onto his side, eyes sparkling in the light, and sneezes a plume of sparking magic. Isolde looks at Orion, ready to say see, I told you, but he is already looking at her. His voice is soft when he speaks, “Yes. I believe you are right.”

Notes:

so sorry for the late update, life has been lifing and i may need to do a heccin surgery, which lowkey sounds scary but also dope? idk.

anyhooo hope this was decent. think we have two chapters and then we are donezo

Chapter 50: Acceptance

Summary:

A glimpse of the end.

Notes:

All vibes, my dudes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius was nervous. It must show on his face, because James has been leering at him for the past thirty minutes. Sirius sends him a weak glare, struggling on where to place his Gringotts papers in a place that made sense. He had already arranged for Alaric to bring the necessary paperwork to the Manor today, but what if Arlette says no? What if she’d rather be nameless? Sirius supposes he could understand, living so long without a family name, being taught to hate your roots, but he hoped, hoped he had shown Arlette enough to know it would be worthwhile.

It had been easier than he thought to get Arlette in permanent custody but he supposes with Cyrus being dead and his remaining followers being unable to blow themselves up, the Ministry had bigger fish to fry than an orphan who wasn’t being charged by said lord who was attacked. Sirius had hesitated in telling Arlette that her father was dead, but the little mage seemed to already know when Sirius had returned home the day, her face blossoming with relief and quiet acceptance. He had given her the ring as well, which she wore around her neck on a simple gold chain.

“You keep rearranging the paperwork.” James laughs, stretched out on the couch behind him with Hugin curled tight into his neck. “Why are you so nervous?”

“What if she says no?” Sirius turns to him with wide eyes.

James’ face softens, “I highly doubt it. That girl has laughed so much in this house that I hear it in my dreams.”

“Babies do need to laugh.” Sirius nods solemnly.

James does as well. “Babies be laughing. I’d say I can’t believe you roped my brother into this, but Hazza has always been a big softie. No one ever believes me when I say this.”

Sirius snorts, “Have you met your brother?”

James raspberries, “A huge softie. He cries over Bambi’s mom dying every time.”

Sirius blinks, “She dies?”

James squawks, “You haven’t seen Bambi?!”

Sirius rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, “I thought we were watching it next week?”

James pushes himself upright, lifting his hand to keep Hugin tucked when he chirps sleepily, and makes a broad gesture with his hand, “We are switching All Dogs Go to Heaven for Bambi.”

“I don’t want to cry.” Sirius sulks.

“You will regardless.” James hisses, eyes looking suspiciously wet. “We will follow up with Balto to make you happy.”

Sirius perks up, “Yay!”

James laughs, “When will they be home?”

“Now.” Hadrian answers, startling them both. He’s standing in the archway to the sitting room with a happily bouncing Arlette beside him, her little cheeks flushed pink with exertion. Sirius had not been expecting Hadrian to tell him he was taking their little mage to the park so she could learn the intricate arts of feeding ducks to distract her from Sirius’ grand planning, but it warmed his heart nonetheless. Their hands are clasped, which is the cutest shit Sirius has seen all day, and he coos. 

Hadrian sends him a look, “The ducks have been fed. Arlie befriended a goose.”

“He was so big, Siri!” Arlette gasps, swinging Hadrian’s hand excitedly. “With so many pretty feathers and he honked a-and-”

Sirius, frankly, tunes her out, enamored as he watches her talk with her whole body. Arlette really had blossomed in their short time together. She notices the papers neatly set about the coffee table and makes a curious noise. Hadrian gently releases her hand, “That’s our cue.”

“Yessir.” James salutes, hopping to his feet.

Arlette watches them go curiously, then turns to face Sirius, who kneels to the floor. Her face goes strangely nervous and unsure, so Sirius smiles, watching her little shoulders deflate a bit. Sirius decides to put her out of her cautious misery, “I have something I want to ask you.”

“Are you sending me away?” Arlette asks quietly. Her tiny face crumples.

Sirius beckons her closer, grasping her hands in his own when she draws near, “Oh. Not at all, little mage. Quite the opposite.”

Arlette hesitates, shyly asking, “I can stay with you?”

“Yes.” Sirius says earnestly. “Always. But… I wanted to ask you if you’d like to become a le Fay.”

Arlette gasps quietly, so quietly that it’s barely a breath. Her eyes water, thick tears pooling in her eyes. She whispers, “A le Fay?”

“Mhm.”

“O-oh,” Arlette sways a bit. “You want to keep me?”

“Yes.” Sirius admits. “Is that ok?”

Arlette doesn’t say anything, tears finally spilling from her eyes, and she launches herself into Sirius with a devastating, little noise, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. Sirius feels his heart might burst, hugging her back tightly. Her body trembles against him as she bursts into heavy sobs and his chest goes tight at the sound. He holds her, supporting her legs with his arms when she threatens to collapse, and eases himself to the floor with her curled up in his lap. Sirius gently rocks her back and forth, feeling his eyes burn. What a response.

“P-Please let me stay with you.” Arlette sniffles wetly.

“Anything you want.” Sirius responds. 

Hadrian, eventually, finds them like this, Arlette having cried herself to sleep, which was endearing, and Sirius still holding her. His face softens incredibly and Sirius sends him a watery smile, whispering, “I think that was a yes.”

“Wait until she finds out you’re sending her to school.” Hadrian comments quietly. He very gently takes Arlette from Sirius’ arm, holding out a hand when he stands. Sirius takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Their family had taken to teaching Arlette various things while she was under their care. She had a natural affinity for potions, which charmed Severus and Monty desperately, and charms, which had Lily taking over very aggressively and very quickly, but Sirius wanted her to experience life as a child so he reached out to Dumbledore and in turn, Madame Maxime at Beauxbatons feverishly reached out to him.

So Arlette would have options. Isolde was already adamant that a “girl of her stature” go to Beauxbatons, but Sirius wanted to give his little mage a choice. Hadrian kisses the top of Sirius’ head, sliding an arm around his waist, and Sirius leans into him with a quiet sigh, “Wait until you ask her to be a Potter.”

“Let’s keep it to one startling piece of news at a time.” Hadrian sniffs.

Sirius laughs, “Watching her cry was the hardest experience of my life and I died.”

“At least Jay hasn’t figured it out yet.”

Sirius pales, “God. He’s going to eat me.” He perks up, “Oh, Arlette’s never had a birthday party. I know it’s, like, late-”

“We must.” Hadrian says earnestly. “Today. She’ll just have to cry again.”

“Oooh, what a splendid idea.” Sirius coos. “Good thing we have two transfiguration experts. Fuck the furniture.”

“Fuck the furniture.” Hadrian agrees, serious. 

Hell, Sirius loves this man. They make quick work of tucking Arlette into her bed and gathering their family like body snatchers. Marlene squeals when Sirius reveals their plot, as does Mipsy, who immediately sets to work on making cakes. Yes, that was plural. Arlette loved strawberries, so Sirius already knows whatever monstrosity Mipsy whips up will be amazing and put him in a coma. He tries to be involved in the decorating, but Dorcas, Hadrian, and Euphemia are being scary, so Sirius struggles to figure out what to do. 

Their family could be so obsessive sometimes. Sirius decides it’s time to be insufferable and pops out to buy an insane amount of gifts for his little mage. He updates her entire wardrobe since spring is around the corner, buys her more stuffies and toys, and lastly settles on a tent they can string up in the backyard near her tree house that has a skyview.

Sirius is pleased with his purchases, bouncing happily into the manor as Hugin chirps excitedly beside him. His bird plops down the hall, piles and piles upon packages trailing behind him. Hadrian meets Sirius halfway, eyes the gifts as he passes, looks around, and opens his hoodie pocket to reveal a bundle of shrunken packages. They high five with a laugh.

“I have something for you.” Sirius tells him, linking their arms together as the noise of a bickering match between Lily and Marlene fills the air over balloons.

“How funny. I have something for you.” Hadrian smiles and wow, how pretty.

“What is it?” Sirius asks, curious.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

“On three then.”

“On three.”

“One…”

“Two.”

“It’s a ring,” Sirius says at the same time Hadrian says, “I have a ring for you.”

Sirius laughs, “Maybe we should just elope. Fuck the betrothal.”

Hadrian pales, “My mother would kill us both.”

God, Euphemia probably would.

“Let me see it.” Sirius nudges him, snapping his fingers to summon a delicate skull shaped box. He had made it himself from wraithbone and Umbra’s feathers so it had taken on a delicate, deep shade of purple that glowed violet in certain lights. Hadrian slowls to a stop, facing him, and waves his hand fluidly. A box appears in his palm, blackened gold and stunning and Sirius marvels at it.

“On three.” Hadrian says quietly.

“Ok.” Sirius breathes.

They count the breaths, a strange silence drifting between them, and Sirius doesn’t know where to look first when Hadrian opens his box at the same time he does. Their thoughts must’ve been the same as their rings complement one another almost completely. There is a blackened gold ring in Hadrian’s box, nestled amongst dark silk with the intricate, sinuous image of a fox curling around the band. The eyes are set with violet sapphires, the tips of its ear and tail shimmering in pearly accents. There are even tiny diamonds spread about like a constellation. Sirius swallows thickly, eyes stinging, and wow, it has been an emotional day. 

He can hear the quiet hitch across from him, how Hadrian studies the fine details of the ring he’s holding. Same mind, Sirius thinks, peering down at the platinum ring in his hands. He had debated for ages then bothered Euphemia until she put him out of his misery. The band is a extravagent filigree made of feathers than transitions into the skull of a canine with emeralds for eyes. Neither of them say anything, staring at the rings, staring at one another until Sirius sways forward and Hadrian meets him the rest of the way, gathering his face in his hands and kisses him hard. 

“Gah, you silly boys!” Euphemia laughs. “You were supposed to wait for the meeting. I know they are just betrothal rings but my goodness.”

Hadrian has the decency to look embarrassed when he pulls away, “I was impatient.”

“I think I lost my brain.” Sirius hums deliriously.

“Well, fix it right now. Our Arlie is awake and delirious. James is distracting her as we speak.” Effie chirps, moving towards them. She takes both of their rings with a firm nod. “Children. So impatient. You’ll get married, I swear on it, or I will murder you both. Now, say yes ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.” They say in unison.

Euphemia coos, gesturing them to follow. Sirius feels a bit grateful the downstairs sitting room is so grand because clearly the family must’ve been on a tirade. The ceiling has been bewitched to mimic a star dappled twilight sky, swirling with stunning hues of deep indigo, violet, and silver. They’ve covered the walls in velvet tapestries covered in florals and roses, a long table adorned with rose petals and enchanter lilies that shift from a deep plum to a shimmering silver. Mipsy has created not one but three cakes, each a different size and covered in delicate strawberry frosting. Hugin has taken upon himself to arrange the gifts, which are staggering and massive.

It was amazing what a magical family could do under time pressure because Sirius doesn’t even think it’s been three hours yet. Marlene spins dramatically, sending rose petals everywhere, and then promptly throws herself in Dorcas’ arms, who barely manages to catch her. She gasps suddenly, “Should we hide?”

“I think she might pass out.” Lily whispers. 

“She’s going to cry.” Hadrian sniffs.

“I’m going to cry.” Monty says wetly, adjusting his ridiculous golden top hat. “It’s like when we had Riri’s first birthday party.”

“I bet he cried.” Marlene huffs. “He cried at ours.”

Sirius balks, embarrassed, “I did not-”

“Siri?” A little voice calls and Sirius turns to see James with Arlette before him, his hands over her eyes, and James Potter is already weepy, which is terrible. Sirius clears his throat, “Perhaps on three. We just say surprise or something.”

“Excellent suggestion.” Effie claps.

It becomes a bit chaotic at that point but they manage to get it together to at least count. James uncovers Arlette’s eyes on three and the room fills with voices shouting “surprise”.

Arlette bursts into tears.

 

-

 

“I’m leaving Britain.” Regulus Black had been feeling…. better. Better than he had since all of this nonsense had started and yet he felt bereft by it. It was clear Sirius had decided they weren’t worth his time anymore and began pulling back with that ancient magic he used. Regulus wanted to be grateful, but he wasn’t. He felt listless now, adrift, because in the end, he had gotten exactly what he wanted yet it felt that he gained nothing at all. Lordship and his rebellious brother cast out before he could stain their reputation further. There was hardly any reputation left but… Regulus felt lighter without the pressure of his once companions breathing down his neck. 

And alone.

Solidarity had always suited Regulus best, but he found himself lonely now, wondering, and he didn’t need Sirius’ mercy nor did he deserve it. Regulus realizes this now, realized many things since the last time he saw Sirius at the Ministry. His former brother had remained tall as he always had with the older Potter at his side and a little girl, who clung to them both with a wide smile. The more Regulus thought, the more he realized the truth in his father’s words. Anger never reached Sirius, whether it be Walburga’s or his own. Sirius would move forward regardless.

Remus doesn’t respond.

“I don’t believe we should be together anymore.” Regulus tells Remus, who sits across from him, his eyes downturn and reddened as they often had been in recent months. While Regulus knows Remus once felt vindicated with what they had done, he knows now it weighs heavier on him than it did Regulus. Regulus still had his Lordship, his crumbling house, while Remus had nothing but the muggleborn and his father after a splendid fight with his mother. No pack to call his own and Regulus was sure that his relationship with Sirius had gone deeper than Remus was forward about. Regulus knew about werewolf mates and the more time they spent together, the more withdrawn and haggard Remus appeared, he assumes Sirius had been that tether for him. 

“I agree.” Remus admits quietly. His first act of bravery since this all went down. Regulus had never met someone so wrapped up in themselves that they couldn’t see beyond their own hurt. 

“You may keep this house.” Regulus says quietly. He knows Remus has nothing else and even if they were coconspirators, Regulus would offer him this kindness. “But I believe distance is needed.”

He didn’t know what Remus would do in the interim but the ripped up articles from the Prophet announcing the rumors of a betrothal between Sirius le Fay and Hadrian Potter might haunt his thoughts, waking or asleep.

Remus’ eyes water, “Yeah.”

“We have done enough.”

Remus’ voice breaks, “Yeah.”

Notes:

I came up with another story idea and I really wish I would stop so I suppose I have two more Harry/Siri stories in me yet

One of them will have background wolfstar because huzzah time travel so take that as you will

Chapter 51: A Fox, a Hound, and their Cub

Summary:

A closing of a chapter.

Notes:

TWs some birds get eaten

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sirius sleepily gathers his packed bags, Hugin draped across his shoulder as heavy snake because clearly they were both exhausted. He doesn’t know where they’re going, just absently crawled out of bed when Hadrian coaxed him awake. His fiance wouldn’t tell him either, tight lipped as he usually was when it came to surprises, but Sirius knows his lack of sleep will be worth it.

The manor is incredibly silent, their family tucked away in their rooms long asleep after a rowdy game of Twister and Apples to Apples. Marlene had won the battle but lost the war, unexpectedly, to Severus of all people. Sirius had no idea if Severus finally decided to take yoga classes as he suggested, but clearly something was working for their dungeon bat to be so flexible. 

Sirius smooths a hand over Gatsby’s head and retucks Umbra into the massive nest he had made for the five of them. It was mostly pillows and a weighted blanket, but Sirius had never been more comfortable in his life, surrounded by his animals and his man like a disoriented puppy pile. He quietly closes his bedroom door, noticing a fast asleep Arlette in soft cat pajamas, whose face is tucked into Hadrian’s neck as he walks towards him. 

“Ready?” Hadrian asks softly and he looks incredibly in this soft lighting.

Sirius manages a nod, dazed, “Yessir.”

Hadrian gently flicks him on the forehead before taking his hand. Sirius trails beside him, reaching up to smooth out the little furl in Arlette’s brow and she coos in her sleep. So cute, he thinks, squeezing Hadrian’s hand, who sends him an amused look. At least one of them was noticeably awake because Sirius doesn’t even think he could tell the time without it somehow feeling like an elaborate math equation. He yawns into the crook of his arm, handing over his bag when Hadrian holds out a hand. 

The bag vanishes with a flick of Hadrian’s wrists and then they’re holding hands again. He tugs Sirius to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and shadows begin to pull from corners of the hallway and ceiling. Sirius presses his face into Hadrian’s shoulder, feeling that strange, bitter magic wash over him. When he lifts his head, they’re in a living room that feels far cozier and smaller than the one at home. The air smells like daffodils and a summer breeze, beginnings of sunrise shining through arched, thin windows. 

Sirius can make out the edges of sand, then the distant waves of a sea breaking along the shore. He makes a curious noise, earning a low snort. Hadrian pulls away to wander towards one of the two open doors situated near a narrow hallway. Sirius takes a moment to peer around. There is an intricate kitchen with dark cabinets, a massive fridge, various heavy leafed plants hanging from the ceiling, and various picture frames filled with images of smiling women that look a lot like Euphemia, then there are images of James and Monty and Dorcas. Sirius blinks, realizing he’s also here, but he doesn’t remember taking this photo. Hugin is in his arms, his form much smaller than it was now, boned tail whipping furiously as he peers up adoringly at Sirius, who grins down at him. 

“Samata’s gift for me when I graduated.” Hadrian says once he returns.

“This place is so cute.” Sirius tells him, a bit enamored by how soft everything looks. He runs his fingers along the couch, studying fixtures on the wall and the display cases that line the fireplace mantle filled with preserved insects. Sirius turns to Hadrian, “Where are we?”

“Biastonor. About 70 miles from Dubai. It’s a small city.” 

Sirius looks at the window, watching the sun drift higher, “Not that I care but why here?”

“I’ve been tracking a certain creature.” Hadrian tells him, stepping neatly into his space. “I wanted you to see it since it’s already passed Brittany.”

Sirius peers up at him, curious, “What kind of creature?”

“A turtle.” Hadrian’s lips quirk upward.

Sirius has to take a moment to think, but he’ll blame his delusional state to lack of sleep. When it hits him, he feels his eyes water. The first time he had seen a aspidochelone had been with his father. Why does it move, Sirius had asked. Because even nature can be filled with magic, Orion responded. It wasn’t the fall, so he didn’t know if the leaves would be chestnut once more, but he feels touched all the same.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His voice shakes a bit.

Hadrian kisses his forehead, “Yes, I did. I’ve calculated we have three hours before it appears.”

“Let me nap on you.” Sirius says very seriously.

Hadrian laughs, “Of course, my love.”

Sirius is tugged into the second bedroom door, a bit amazed at how such a small space was, in fact, incredibly massive. He really did love magic and all it had brought into his life. Hadrian allows himself to be manhandled in a way that makes sense to Sirius, who then pushes Hugin into Hadrian’s neck and faceplants on the other side with a canine grumble. Sirius sags into him like dead weight, pleased when an arm slides around his waist. Oh, yes, this is fantastic, he thinks sluggishly and Hugin hisses slowly in agreement and Hadrian gives a quiet laugh.

“I love you.” Sirius murmurs, half between consciousness and sleep.

“My heart beats only for you.” Hadrian replies softly, his hand stroking Sirius’ back with incredible tenderness. What a perfect confession, Sirius thinks before drifting off. He wakes to a little giggle and Hadrian’s low laugh, the tiniest of fingers brushing over his face. Sirius cracks an eye open, snorting at Arlette peering down at him with those massive, mismatched eyes. She’s wearing a baseball cap, hair braided into two neat plaits, and positively swallowed in one of Hadrian’s t-shirt. Her little face brightens when she realizes he’s awake.

“Siri,” Arlette whispers. “We have to see the turtle. Hades said it’s big.”

“It’s sooo big.” Sirius agrees, pushing himself up. Hadrian is no longer beneath him, which felt like a criminal offense, and he wasn’t in the bedroom either. Hugin is also nowhere to be seen. Sirius sends Arlette a suspicious look, earning an innocent smile, and he rolls his eyes, grasping her sides and bodily shucking her onto his shoulder. Arlette squeals, patting his back happily, “Piggies, please.”

Sirius rises to his feet, “Can you do it or must I assist our little mage?”

Arlette wiggles, “I do!”

Sirius huffs in amusement, remaining incredibly still as Arlette loops and stretches against him until her face is pressed into his, her tiny arms encircling his neck. Sirius loops his arms under her legs, lifting her higher, and she giggles. Arlette was weighing more now, which the healers wanted, and Sirius was gratified their little girl had been growing so nicely. Her mind healer also said she was managing well, but Sirius knew it may take a bit longer and he was willing to deal with all her tiny, baby meltdowns and temper tantrums. If anything, Sirius was grateful she felt comfortable enough to have such big emotions.

Sirius carries Arlette out of the bedroom, much to her glee, and catches Hadrian finishing up packing a basket full of food. Hugin is snoozing happily against him like the bird bastard he is and Sirius is jealous he can’t be a bird and just nest on his man like some pigeon. Well, he could but where was the fun in being a bird? His mother had clearly been rubbing off on him. Hadrian’s face softens when he notices them drawing closer. Sirius makes a happy noise, studying the delicate selection of sandwiches and hearty snacks.

“Oooh.” Arlette gasps. “Good job, Hades. Thank you!”

“I’m so excited.” Sirius whispers. “Thank you.”

Hadrian’s cheeks go pink, “This is nothing.”

“So modest.” Arlette whispers and Sirius bursts out laughing. Hadrian glowers at him, plucking the tray from the counter. He makes a show of lifting his chin in a haughty way, which sets Sirius off again and his face hurts from smiling so hard. They make their way outside, Sirius shifting Arlette onto his shoulders, enamored by the way she gasps in delight. 

The air is soft, sweet with the beginning of the day, and Sirius studies the edge of the shore with quiet delight. He feels a bit silly for being excited to teach Arlette to build sandcastles now that he finally knew how. Sirius felt he had learned so much this past year, had never felt more accomplished or more pleased with himself. His eye catches the glimpse of a mass as they draw closer, how it drifts closer and closer and his breath catches. 

The trees aren’t chestnut but a vibrant, stunning green, as a soft breeze brushes through thick leaves. Arlette makes a noise above him and Sirius can’t help but mimic it. Regulus had never believed him, but Sirius knew what he had saw that day with their father. His father was gone and now Sirius sees the aspidochelone without him, but with a little part of the family he carved for himself. Sirius sets Arlette down, chuckling when she darts towards the drifting shore, her body bouncing in excitement.

“Seems real to me.” Hadrian comments.

“Thank you.” Sirius whispers.

“Anything.” Hadrian kisses his temple.

Sirius helps Hadrian set up their little picnic, the sand warm and thick beneath his hands. He transfigures his hair tie into a small bucket then borrows the extra hair tie he makes Hadrian wear on his wrist to create a pair of little shovels. Arlette bounces over to them, her hair wet with sea spray, smile wide and brilliant. 

“Time to make a new fort.” Hadrian says, serious.

Sirius laughs, “Brilliant idea.”

“How do we do that?” Arlette asks excitedly.

Sirius wiggles his fingers, “With magic, of course.”

Hugin watches over their snacks, content to sunbathe and sleep, but he sings every so often whenever they gather a large amount of sand. Sirius shows Arlette how to funnel water from the sea and Hadrian directs them into how to build larger and bigger. Arlette decides their fort needs little houses to keep it company, collecting shells and seaweed to offer when Sirius asks. 

“Do you think I’ll be a puppy too?” She asks, packing sand into Hadrian’s, frankly, formidable structure. Sirius didn’t even know what it was. It seemed like a very heavy wall. Well, we are making a fort, he thinks, amused.

Hadrian hums thoughtfully, “Animagi are said to reflect aspects of a wixen’s personality.”

Arlette pouts, “I don’t feel like a puppy.”

Sirius laughs then, “Neither do I.”

“You’re too loyal to be anything else.” Hadrian sniffs, tapping his wand to the top layer. There’s a sharp, swishing sound and it sludges off cleanly. “Needs to be taller.”

“Are we building a fort or a castle?” Sirius blinks.

Hadrian blinks, “Yes?”

Arlette giggles. She bites her lip, “Will we still be a family if I’m not a puppy? Or a fox?”

Sirius flicks her on the forehead, “Duh. Hugin is a bird. Not to mention that, Prongs is a deer. Stag. Whatever. The point is that no matter what appearance your animagus form takes, you’re stuck with us.”

“I’ll meld you to a wall if you think you can escape.” Hadrian replies dryly.

Arlette gasps, alarmed.

Sirius nods solemnly. “I have to agree. No take backs.”

“Wow, you both really like me.” Arlette grins suddenly, looking fiendish. She sends them a smug little look, chin lifted upward, eyes squinted and Sirius finds himself heart eyed. What a little shit!

Hadrian appears to short circuit, “Oh, how cute.”

“Isn’t she?” Sirius whispers, a bit awed.

Arlette blushes, “You both are silly.”

“What an improvement on my reputation.” Hadrian deadpans.

Sirius laughs. By the time they’ve finished their fort, er, castle, the aspidochelone has slowed to a complete stop. Its massive body still lies underneath and Sirius notices birds moving to rest amongst the magnificent trees adorning its back. Hadrian carves out a massive window in the lower level of the fort, poking his head through with a nod of satisfaction. The teeny birds decorating the top then proceed to spit fire.

Arlette claps excitedly, “Pretty!”

“When did you do that?” Sirius blinks.

Hadrian sends him a speaking look, “When I was ensuring it was structurally sound.”

“Hadrian Shani,” Sirius sighs, exasperated. “They don’t always need to spit fire.”

“Of course not.” Hadrian scoffs. The birds then shoot electricity, which is truly unfortunate for the very real, very much alive bird that happened to be passing by. The poor thing gets the shock of its life. Sirius watches it scatter away with a shrieking noise. He sends Hadrian a look, snorting at the picture of innocence this man presents. Hugin decides that their building is enough for him and drags their lunch inside with a musical noise, bustling around until the sandy floor is crackling with magic. 

“You gave my bird the zoomies.” Sirius whispers.

“I inspire many emotions, Riri.”

“Is the turtle going to eat the birds?” Arlette asks.

Hadrian laughs, startled, “Probably.”

Sirius squints, attempting to count the amount of birds that have decided to land on this massive thing and finds himself at a loss, “Maybe they’re stupid.”

“Sometimes prey can be.” Hadrian agrees. “Come eat.”

Sirius pushes to his feet, assisting his little mage when she scrambles for purchase, “Do you think it will move fast enough to eat any?”

“I’ve been surprised before.” Hadrian responds, cryptically.

“Big doesn’t mean slow, Siri.” Arlette sniffs. “Hades is fast. He’s bigger than you.”

“God, he is.” Sirius says dreamily. 

“Sirius le Fay.”

“Ok. Ok.” Sirius laughs.

Arlette happily sits between them as they eat, trying various different pieces of sandwiches when Sirius or Hadrian tell her to open up. Her favorites seem to be the turkey, the lox, and curiously, the cucumber, much to Hugin’s surprise. His bird is eager to share with their little mage, chirping excitedly. Sirius did wonder if Arlette would end up with a strand of her own. He could easily see her with a sparrow that followed her around, something small and pure, but he knew you couldn’t put limits on magic.

It was bound to be free, to be incredible and great. Sirius didn’t even know magic could be more indescribable until he realized what his family had created. A sentient being within magic itself, a shield, a sword. A friend, Sirius thinks, holding out his hand when Hugin bounces over to him. His talons gently curl along Sirius’ arm, those eerie eyes bright with softness and Sirius finds himself smiling. 

There is a click. Sirius turns to see Hadrian tucking away a camera. He grins, “Ah, so that’s how you got the one in the house.”

“It’s hard not to take more.” Hadrian admits.

“Hades takes so many.” Arlette chirps, pushing to her feet. She points a threatening finger at them, “I make sandcastles for you. No peaking.”

Sirius’ heart flips, “Yes, ma’am.”

Hadrian snorts, “Yes, ma’am.”

Arlette nods, very seriously, before marching out of their fort. Sirius takes advantage of her absence to press into Hadrian’s space. He lays his head on his shoulder, gathering Hugin in his arms. Hadrian wraps an arm around him, taking all his weight as he shifts against him. The aspidochelone still lingers a great distance from them, turning the water into tiny ripples as waves move to adjust to its presence. Sirius watches it closely, how the sun hangs over the trees at just the right angle, turning them a brilliant shade of chestnut. His breath hitches. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Hadrian hums.

The aspidochelone rears up suddenly, a large wrinkled head of a snapping turtle breaking through the water and it whips around startlingly fast, snatching up a mouthful of birds. Sirius gasps, eyes watering, “It is real.”

Hadrian squeezes his shoulder, “You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t think…” Sirius doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. He feels strangely emotional, watching Arlette clamor back inside with a shocked face. Sirius is startled into laughing, laughs so hard his heart threatens to burst. He feels grateful, elated, and perhaps a bit panicked at how Arlette's voice reaches a high pitch when she tries to articulate words. Sirius watches her, listens to Hadrian's exasperated fondness, and... Ah, Sirius thinks. How perfect.

Notes:

I can't believe this is done. So weird and incredible? Idk. Thank you for joining me on this, frankly, wild ride. I truly appreciate it.

Notes:

:)

Thanks for reading!