Chapter Text
The next week or so passed in a blur. After the confirmation that had been gnawing at some, that Sirius had been the Secret Keeper of James and Lily Potter, or, at the very least, had been believed to be their Secret Keeper, Unspeakable Shield had declared that it would be it for the night. Of course, people had protested, but no one could deny that James Potter, who was the recipient of the spell, looked exhausted. They tended to forget that the spell used him as a source to... well, whatever it was that the spell needed from James to work. The spell was tied to James, and so was the magical screen that flicked to life and temporarily dissolved thanks to the Unspeakables' intervention. It never disappeared for long, though, which was why Unspeakable Hammer suggested everyone come back on the weekend to keep up with the projection. Unclassified Magick had been all but confirmed in hushed whispers, and no matter what anyone did, no one could get word of this projection to someone not in the know.
That also meant that the Hogwarts staff and Ministry employees present since the first projection had to screen the visiting families to make sure no one would sneak in. Strangely enough, it wasn't that hard to keep any ignorant poor soul out of Hogwarts. Probably some outside intervention they would not dare to name.
Regulus kept his head down, wary of, but not snappy at James Potter whenever the Gryffindor dared to approach him. He even tried to keep himself from lashing out when the guy annoyed him too much, but James only laughed and told him that his snarky self was part of his charm. Regulus had refused to be flustered by the easy way Potter seemed to accept his flaws. And believe him, Reg knew he wasn't easy to be around.
His brother, Regulus noticed, was broody and avoiding people. Even his best friends. Perhaps especially his best friends. He talked to them, but he sulked and seemed reluctant to talk, especially to Lupin.
It wasn't his problem, though. Sirius wasn't his problem, hadn't been his problem for a long time. Regulus refused to get involved in that mess.
Earlier that week, he received a letter from Grandfather Arcturus. The old man had been more and more involved in his life ever since the projection first started. For starters, he hadn't returned to wherever it was that he had exiled himself. Instead, he had moved back, if only temporarily for now, into a small cottage he had gifted grandmother Melania when they had first gotten married. It was supposed to be a small retreat away from the stress of a Lord's life. Regulus had heard from his father that he used to go there with his parents when he was a child. Speaking of his father, Grandfather had written to let him know that his dad's treatment was going well. Recovery would not be instant by any means, but he was now awake and coherent. He would not be allowed to leave Saint Mungo's any time soon, though.
Regulus tried not to feel offended that he wasn't allowed to visit. He knew it was to avoid risk and the stress it would put his father through, but still. At least, Grandfather Arcturus was allowed to visit him. At least, Father wasn't completely alone, with only Healers for company. Not that healers were necessarily bad company, but, you know? They weren't family or friends. It felt like an eternity since Regulus had last seen his father, when in reality, it was only a few weeks, a few months... That's not what he meant, though. He may have seen his father recently, but he hadn't really interacted with his dad in a long time.
Even now, the guilt was eating him up. He should have realised that something was wrong with Father. He wondered if Sirius felt the same way, or if his brother was too selfish for that, too. Then he shook his head; thinking about Sirius usually made him lose his composure. He knew he was being unfair, but he didn't feel like giving him a chance. Sirius had been an asshole to him for a long time now, so why should Regulus act differently? Just because he vowed to do better, to be better, didn't mean that he had to accord any other chance to Sirius. What did it matter if he missed the older brother who used to read him bedtime stories or hide away with him when Mother was angry at them? It was a long time ago, a time long gone.
Both Barty and Evan tried to avoid talking about Sirius these days, as if they were trying to close a gap and be nicer to the Gryffindor. Regulus would honestly prefer it if they just carried on with their disgust for his brother. It would make him feel less guilty for carrying those childish urges to hate his brother.
On the other side of the castle, things were both more relaxed and more tense at the same time. Sirius had initially withdrawn from his friends after the last memories had been shown. Despite James assuring him that he knew Sirius was innocent, that his future self would have never betrayed him, Sirius still withdrew into himself. He tried not to be angry at Remus, Hagrid and all the others in the future who had apparently turned on him, but he had always had a temper.
He was assigned detention in Transfiguration for talking back, but even McGonagall had seemed reluctant to punish him. Sirius had the feeling that she knew why he was so angry. He had the feeling that she felt conflicted about the things they had seen, too.
To try to mitigate his temper, Sirius stayed quiet in most classes and avoided Hagrid too for good measure. When James called him to go bother Hagrid, as they usually did, Sirius pretexted having to finish an essay to stay behind. He knew James and Remus most likely saw right through him, but they let him have this. James, of course, tried to comfort him in his own awkward ways, but his friend was also all kinds of fucked up by everything they had seen. His son, after all, seemed to be in danger every time he left the common room. If Sirius was worried sick for his unborn godson, then he couldn't imagine what it was like for James... or Reggie. God, Reggie...
“Sirius?”
Shaking his head, Sirius kept digging into his bag.
“Sirius, please stop ignoring me.”
“I'm not ignoring you, Moony. I'm busy.”
He was. He had been trying to locate his Transfiguration book for the past five minutes. He could have used magic, of course, but he didn't want to. The more time he wasted here, the less patient his friends would be, and they would leave for breakfast without him.
But, of course, Remus had to disappoint him there too.
“I didn't take you for a liar, Sirius.”
Was it too much to ask to be left alone? See, the thing is that Sirius was well aware of how temperamental he could be. He knew that if pushed, he would say too much. He could be mean, really mean. He didn't want to hurt his friends, not really. Not even Remus. Not even if his future self would deserve it.
Sirius huffed, grabbed his bag and walked past his friend. He would find that damn book later.
“Shows what you know.”
One push, maybe two. That's all it would take. If Remus was as smart as they always said, he would leave it be and leave him alone until he had worked all of his issues out.
Outside of Hogwarts, Lord Arcturus Black had a hectic week. He refused to delegate – his paranoid mind would not allow him to do so. You never know who you can trust, and he had been gone from Britain for a long time. He knew he could always count on his old friend, Evan, but he could handle all of this for now.
Arcturus had visited his son every day since his arrival at the hospital. Even in the first few days, when he wasn't allowed inside the room, for safety and hygienic reasons, he would still drop by in the morning or before the end of visiting hours and ask for news. He would then write to his grandsons. He had yet to receive a reply from Sirius, but he knew the boy would come around. And he did! No later than this morning, Arcturus had received a missive from the lad, requesting news about his father's health.
Family was family, no matter how complicated relationships could be, he thought as he and Evan Rosier (his old friend, not young Regulus’ friend) took a seat at the guest table. Glancing at the head table, he noted the now usual absence of Dumbledore. He wondered how the Unspeakables managed to get him out of the castle whenever it was time for those Viewings. He didn’t wonder why; he had the feeling that he knew why. He did wonder if there was some outsider help with that, because he felt like it shouldn’t be so easy to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts.
“Ready for what’s coming next?” his friend questioned him with a smirk.
Arcturus’ lips twitched. Evan (he was starting to understand Lucretia’s rants about the popularity of the ‘Theodore’ variant names in the Nott line – why were the Rosiers so taken with ‘Evan’?) had been Orion’s friend first. The two lads had become friends at Hogwarts, but Arcturus had grown to enjoy the current Rosier Lord’s company. The man was a joy to have during Wizengamot meetings. Of course, he had stopped going a long time ago, electing instead to send his proxy to vote in his stead, but he remembered enjoying Evan’s snark during the debates.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, because it was the truth.
Did he enjoy getting glimpses of the future? Yes. Was he overjoyed to know that he would have a grandchild? Of course! He couldn’t deny that those Viewings were stressful, though.
“What about…”
“She will have what’s coming for her,” the Black Lord replied succintly.
Walburga hadn’t been dealt with yet. Arcturus wanted to wait until Orion was recovered enough to voice his thoughts on her punishment. She had been confined in the apartments she had inherited from a late aunt. She was not allowed visits and was forbidden contact with House Elves. All she had to serve her was an old ghoul. Arcturus would have felt bad if she wasn’t, in fact, a prisoner awaiting Judgement. The DMLE had yet to demand her location, probably preferring to let the Blacks deal with this in private, since so far, they only had Orion’s journals, and not physically, but from the words of the future as proof of her misdeeds.
For all intents and purposes, she was currently being punished like a child who had thrown a tantrum, except that it was a harsher punishment since she was an adult, not a child. She didn’t throw a tantrum, so to speak, no. Instead, she poisoned and potioned her husband.
Arcturus could hardly wait to serve her her punishment, but he didn’t want to take that revenge from his son. Orion had always been… fearful of Walburga. Not at the beginning, no, otherwise, Arcturus would have never agreed to the betrothal contract between his son and Walburga, but somehow, at some point, Arcturus had seen Orion change during his interactions with his wife.
Arcturus had a lot of remorses in his long life, but none quite as hard to digest and live with as the ones concerning Orion. Because he hadn’t done anything about it. He had suspected that Walburga was harsh with her husband – she may have played the perfect potential for a ‘trophy wife’ when she was a Hogwarts student, but that had obviously changed since. Arcturus didn’t begrudge women for wanting to focus on their careers rather than immediately having children. He might have, once upon a time, but he had been living far away from Wizarding Britain for a long time now. Although he mostly kept to himself out of grief, he did interact with people every once in a while. So, he had grown more… progressive lately. That was not the problem with Walburga. Everything else was.
Arcturus should never have let Pollux talk him into a betrothal contract between Orion and Walburga. If he found out that Pollux and Irma were plotting all this time… Needless to say, Walburga would not be the only one to lose the claim to her name. Arcturus hated disowning family members, and he very rarely did, but he would, if it turned out that they had plotted against his son.
“She will get what’s coming for her,” he repeated gruffly. “And if anyone has been helping her, then they will pay for it too.”
The Rosier Lord, of course, immediately caught the underlying message and nodded back at him.
“Well, if you need anything, know that I am here. Free of charge,” he added playfully.
Arcturus allowed himself to chuckle.
In their world, it was common to exchange favours, but they had grown from allies to friends. Good friends.
“I’ll keep that in mind, old friend.”
It was a hypocrite to call him ‘old friend’ when Arcturus was much older, but it never failed to make Evan laugh.
They watched as the room filled more and more until the double doors magically closed behind the last guest.
“Well, it seems that we are complete,” Unspeakable Shield noted, just before a puff of pink smoke erupted in the middle of the Great Hall.
“Spoke too soon,” Hammer mumbled once the smoke had dissipated enough that they could see a figure.
The figure was wearing a sweater vest. A bit of an odd sight, for those who recognised him after a few seconds and were acquainted with him. They had never seen him wear anything but wizard’s robes. If anything, it looked comfy, the kind of thing you’d wear at home, but that you’d never expect a proud pureblood like Orion Black to be wearing.
“Orion?”
“Father?!”
Regulus had straightened in his seat, unprepared to see his father so soon. Although he hadn’t seen him since he left for Hogwarts after the last school break, he hadn’t expected to see his father until either the Summer vacation or until he got permission to leave school grounds and visit him in Ste Mungo’s.
Regulus scrambled up when he saw his grandfather stand up and walk to Father. He was vaguely aware of Sirius hesitantly following behind as he hurried to the newcomer, but ignored it, too busy staring at their father.
“Oh, hello.”
Professor McGonagall was about to stand up to welcome their surprising new guest when a new figure suddenly appeared by Orion’s side.
The new figure was short, shorter than Mr Black, wearing dark robes, but no matter how hard they stared, they couldn’t get a clear glimpse of their face.
“Sorry. Forgot to take that with you,” they said, handing over what looked like an IV bag (if you asked Mary) to a somewhat dazed-looking Orion Black.
Then, the figure patted Mr Black on the shoulder, muttered something that sounded vaguely like: ‘Stay safe, mate’ and promptly disappeared, much to everyone’s stupefaction.
“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Sirius muttered, which broke the spell.
“Father!” Regulus exclaimed, stepping in front of the swaying newcomer and pulling him into a hug without, for once, even pausing to wonder if it was proper behaviour.
For Orion, things were much more confused. He knew why he was there because he had been warned (although he would have loved to be warned before being dumped at Hogwarts, but, oh well.), but it was… everything before the start of his treatment that was confused. Orion had no idea what had happened while he was ‘gone’. Because he wasn’t gone, not literally, but his mind hadn’t been there for a long time. Suddenly, Sirius and Regulus were no longer little children; they were so big now. They were too big to sit in his lap and beg for one more bedtime story, much to Walburga’s disgust. Suddenly, Sirius was no longer his heir (not that he had ever wanted to be); Regulus was, and everything was… well… different.
It was like the world had gone around, continuing to move on while Orion had been stuck in a bubble, isolated from everything, without even realising it.
Waking up from this fuzzy state was… disorienting. Nauseating. Orion wasn’t sure how he was meant to go on after finding out that he had lost literal years from his life – from his children’s lives- because of his wife.
“Orion.”
Orion looked up from the boy hugging him – his boy, his youngest son- to greet the Lord of his family.
“Father.”
Orion didn’t expect him to pull him into a hug. Apparently, Regulus didn’t either, judging by the small squeak that escaped him. It wasn’t an awkward hug. It should have been. Orion didn’t remember the last time he had hugged someone. No, actually. He did. It was his children, but they were so small at the time. It was before Sirius went to Hogwarts for his first year. The boy had been excited to leave, of course, while Regulus had been nearly hiding behind Orion’s leg, shy but wanting to accompany his big brother anyway.
Things were much easier, much simpler then. Of course, Walburga had already started drugging him at the time, as Healder Malkovich had told him.
Orion looked up and caught sight of his oldest son.
“Sirius. You’ve grown,” he said softly, both arms wrapped around Regulus.
Gone was the small, slender boy with scraped knees and a wild grin that hinted at the teenager he would soon become.
Sirius had grown into himself.
Seeing his boys so grown up was… a jarring sight.
Sirius didn’t rush to him. Orion had seen him hesitate. He didn’t know what had happened in the past few years. He had fuzzy memories of watching the world around him, but nothing clear. He could vaguely remember watching his son grow.
“Dad,” came the hesitant greeting from his oldest child.
Keeping an arm wrapped around Regulus’ shoulders, he extended another one in a ‘come here’ gesture.
Sirius swallowed, frozen on the spot, before taking a step forward, then another, and another one until he was in front of his father and welcomed into his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged his father in a way that didn’t feel forced. Scratch that. He wasn’t sure he even remembered the last time he had hugged him at all. Mother hated physical touch. She would always make hurtful jabs whenever Regulus or Sirius hugged their father. Being the dutiful son, Regulus was the first one to stop that behaviour, despite being obviously starved for it. Surprisingly, Sirius continued on a bit longer, but he became more crafty about it and avoided hugging his dad when their mum was around.
Arcturus hated having to interrupt the moment, but he could see his son swaying on the spot and knew Orion needed to sit down.
Together, they shepherd Orion to one of the tables, where Arcuturus’ fellow guests scrambled to make space for the newcomer.
Orion let out a half-exhausted, half-relieved sigh when he finally sat down.
“Are you alright, son?”
The middle-aged man raised his head to look at his father. The Lord of House Black didn’t seem to have aged much during the time Orion had been ‘away’ (so to speak). If anything, he seemed much healthier than he was the last time he had stayed in Britain for Yule, two years ago. Time away from Britain and the memories of Orion’s departed mother seemed to have done him good.
‘I’m glad,’ he thought, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“I’m fine, Father. Just a bit winded.”
He looked at his boys and marvelled, once again, at how grown up they looked.
Then he looked back at his father.
“I heard I will have a grandchild,” he said, almost candidly (which didn’t sound at all like Orion, but apparently, they would have to get used to this new, non-potioned Orion), before turning his head to look at his youngest son.
Amusingly enough, Regulus went bright red upon hearing Orion’s remark.
Good, he mused fondly. At least, some things stayed the same.
“Now, where did you hear that?”
Arcturus knew he didn’t tell him – first because he literally couldn’t, and secondly because the Healers had told him to avoid stressing him out or provoking strong emotions in his son while he was recovering.
He didn’t even know how Orion had landed here. Surely, it couldn’t be good for his recovery? But, obviously, something else was at play here, because nobody could apparate at Hogwarts.
Also, the figure that had appeared and vanished earlier felt… decidedly Other.
Arcturus would have loved nothing more than to dissect this odd encounter, but thinking about it made his brain… fuzzy. The more he tried to remember, the less clear their features became. The old man knew when something was at work here, and whatever it was, it was working hard on making sure no one looked too closely at the figure that had briefly appeared at Hogwarts. It was also not a power he could win against, so Arcturus resigned himself to not remembering what the person looked like precisely. There were some forces out there you couldn’t possibly hope to win against. Better not make them into an enemy when, in this case, remembering what the figure looked like exactly wouldn’t do much, or anything at all.
“Oh, you know… the ones who brought me here.”
… Plural?
Arcturus shook his head. It wasn’t important at the moment.
“And… what do you know exactly about all of this, Dad?”
Arcturus felt the hesitation in Sirius’ tone, as if he hadn’t called his father ‘dad’ in a long time, as if he wasn’t certain he was still allowed to. Not for the first time, Arcturus wondered what he had missed because of his self-imposed exile. Perhaps he should have returned to Britain earlier or visited more often. Surely, he would have noticed the worrying change in his son’s behaviour if he had. But it was too late to wonder, and there was no time for remorse.
He would do better, he told himself. There was no other choice.
Orion appeared pensive (and younger than Arcturus had seen him in a long time).
“Well… It’s a bit fuzzy in there,” he said, tapping his temple with his index finger, “but I think I got most of it while I was in the hospital. I’ve been dreaming a lot lately.”
Dreaming? Had… Had Orion been seeing the same memories they had… through dreams?
“You have a good boy, Regulus,” Orion continued, either oblivious or uncaring of how red his youngest son was turning.
Arcturus chuckled.
“That he does… or will.”
A strangled squeak accompanied his statement, and he allowed himself to smile more openly.
Some things never change. Regulus might have become more sullen, and Sirius even more rebellious, but some things were still the same – thank Goodness!
As Arcturus settled once more in his seat, just next to Orion, he noticed the hesitation in the younger boys.
Ah.
He could tell they were torn between rejoining their friends at the Slytherin table and staying here with the father they hadn’t seen in months, but hadn’t interacted with (for real) for even longer.
He cleared his throat, feeling terribly awkward.
“Boys. Your father will not vanish. You can stay here if you wish, but do not feel pressured into joining us if you want to go back to your friends.”
There. It wasn’t patronising, he thought. He wasn’t ordering them either way, which would hopefully appease Sirius, because he didn’t want to fight the boy.
Besides, it’s been too long since he had his family in one place – without some unwanted presence, so call him selfish, but he wanted to make the most of it. He didn’t want to have to fight either of his boys – whether it was Sirius, Regulus or Orion. Because, believe it or not, but Orion had shown some rather stubborn streak back in the day. Especially when he used to hang around the mudblood who would later become known as the Dark Lord Voldemort. Thankfully, Orion had listened to reason and distanced himself from the heir of Slytherin. Unfortunately, Walburga had been a much bigger problem, as it had turned out.
Arcturus sighed, even as the boys looked relieved, and hesitantly told their father they would be at the Slytherin table if he needed them.
He could tell neither Orion nor his sons wanted to separate, but the former looked already exhausted by the small amount of socialisation, and Arcturus wondered if having him here was truly a good idea. Did he look better than he had in the past week or so? Yes, but that didn’t erase the look of utter exhaustion on his face, or the pain he could feel radiating from him.
Finally, after some words of reassurance from his son, both of his grandchildren went back to their seats.
Unspeakable Dagger cleared his throat and walked to the Potter heir to ensure he was physically healthy enough to continue with the viewing, per protocol. When they were sure that he was, they nodded at their fellow Unspeakables and walked back to them, satisfied knowing they weren’t endangering a young wizard.
Posté le: 8 juillet 2026