Prophecy Child

Being free wasn’t as exciting as Sirius thought it might be. That might be in part because he was still stuck looking at a wall.

It was morning again.

St Mungo’s was much brighter and warmer than Azkaban, but the walls were boring. Azkaban had stone walls, so there were plenty of divots and lumps to look at, and water ran down the walls in random patterns, and sometimes spiders or other critters scurried across the stonework.

St Mungo’s walls were white and smooth and boring.

Sirius sighed heavily. It had been three days, and they’d stabilised him for the short term. Now, his body needed to rebuild and strengthen itself again, which would take a long time. Some of the healers made little comments about seeing a mind healer, but Sirius ignored them. He knew what his issues were, no need to pay someone to remind him.

The lunch lady came around, and Sirius scoffed down the meal he was given. Bland and simple, because apparently Azkaban’s menu had done a number on his digestive system, and his magic had enough other things to be getting on with already, so he needed to eat carefully. He pushed the empty plate aside, and wriggled till he was laying comfortably on the bed at an angle he could see out the window.

Lunch had been delivered, so now it was afternoon. Afternoons were for sky watching. The sky at St Mungo’s was very interesting. It made up for the boring walls. He could get through a dull morning, knowing in the afternoon, the sky would be interesting.

Sometimes there were clouds of grey, or white, or black. Sometimes there were birds flying past. Sometimes the sky was so blue it hurt to look at, but Sirius looked anyway because he couldn’t bear to miss it.

Sirius was pulled from his peaceful contemplation of the sky by a familiar voice.

‘Hi, Sirius.’ James Potter stood near the end of Sirius’ bed, smiling winningly.

Sirius looked at him blankly for a moment, before breaking out into a smile of his own. ‘Hi Jamie.’

His voice was still rough and ragged, and James winced at hearing it.

‘How are you doing? Albus made it sound like you would be able to come home soon!’ James said, trying to keep his voice cheerful.

Sirius nodded. After a long pause, James clearly not sure what to say next, Sirius turned his gaze back to the window.

‘What are you looking at, Siri?’

‘The sky.’

‘Er, yeah, nice day out. It’ll be good for you to get some sun when you leave here – Albus said the healers said you need more sun.’

Sirius hummed. ‘Have you spoken to the healers?’ he asked.

‘No, just Albus. Something about confidentiality.’

‘Why are they telling him then?’ Sirius asked, confused and becoming agitated. ‘Why are they sharing my medical information without asking me?’

‘Relax, Siri, they’re just telling Albus. He needs to know, so we can help you get better, right?’ James said soothingly, like Sirius was a frightened creature, or a small child. Or both. Like... like a –

Sirius cut that thought off. He didn’t have time for his mind to wander like before.

‘Yeah, of course.’ he said, injecting a hint of sheepishness into his tone. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit… out of sorts.’

James nodded, patting Sirius on the shoulder. ‘Yeah, but that’s to be expected, Albus said.’

Sirius nodded dutifully, but internally he was bristling.

He knew the circumstances behind his arrest. He knew the reason for the lack of trial. He knew who had the power to get him freed but didn’t lift a finger.

The Supreme Mugwump and a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House – and what good had they been? Three years rotting, and nobody to be seen. Not a single letter, not even in accusation. That might have been better – at least if they thought he was actually guilty, he’d know they were being manipulated or lied to, and the record could be set straight.

But he’d had nothing, and he knew it was because they knew – they knew he was set up, they knew he never received a trial. They had washed their hands of him.

Only now, he was free again, and they’d sent James here to… what? Butter him up? The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black had more than a few resources at its disposal. Or was it just the publicity aspect they wanted from him? Probably both. Albus Dumbledore wasn’t one to leave any potential asset unexploited.

Sirius kept his thoughts deep in his mind, though, and tilted his head to look at James. ‘When I get out, can we get ice cream?’

***

They were in his house. His house. His own childhood home. They had taken it over as their headquarters, without permission, and they were inviting him inside like it belonged to them now. Like he wasn’t the Lord of House Black. Like this wasn’t his house.

The audacity of these people.

Sirius kept up an empty smile, eyes glazed as he looked around. He had worked out pretty quickly that this expression freaked them all out the most – like there wasn’t enough human in his eyes anymore, like he was broken. He’d checked himself out in a mirror, and he looked creepy. The empty eyes, the empty smile, the sunken cheeks and ragged hair.

Perfect.

James had hinted at a haircut and a good wash, but Sirius had stared at him blankly until James got a bit freaked out and left him alone. He’d have to be careful with this expression – couldn’t overdo it, or it would lose it potency.

After a quick tour of his own childhood home, Sirius was left to ‘have a little rest, and we’ll see you later, Siri.’

Sirius had no intention of resting – not yet, at least.

He walked slowly down the front hallway and stopped in front of his mother’s portrait. He took a slow breath and opened the curtains. Before his mother could get over her shock and begin screeching, he held up a hand.

‘We are overdue for a chat, Mother. Will you meet me up in the library so we can have a little privacy?’

Walburga Black stared at the face of her eldest son in shock. She nodded slowly, watching as he turned to climb the stairs. He looked stiff and weak. Walburga stared a moment longer, before turning and moving to her other portrait frame in the library.

She arrived before Sirius and watched the door. When he reached it, she watched the way he opened it awkwardly, leaning his body hard against it, like he didn’t have the strength to push it open without his whole meagre weight behind it.

Sirius practically dropped into the nearest chair, and a scolding remark not to flop about like a fish was on the tip of Walburga’s tongue, before she considered him. He looked positively exhausted, eyes drooping and head lolled back.

‘Apologies Mother, I may need a little nap before this conversation.’ He mumbled, and then was asleep in an instant.

Walburga had no idea how to take this situation. Her wayward son, who had turned his back and shirked his duties and scoffed in the face of all their traditions, sleeping fitfully before her and practically looking like an Inferius.

She held her tongue for an hour, cataloguing his new, worn-down and ragged look, watching him twitch and mutter in his sleep.

As a child, he had always slept heavily, arms splayed out and mouth open, utterly lost to the realm of dreams. Now, though, he appeared tense and wary, his dreams frightful and oppressive. She could see the way he flinched, the way his wrist flicked as if he were casting, the way his head whipped down or sideways, dodging an attack.

The latest round of twitching and restlessness seemed to be ramping up, so Walburga cleared her throat loudly. Sirius snapped awake, eyes wild, casting around for the threat.

‘You have been asleep an hour.’ Walburga said primly.

Sirius’ empty hand whipped to point an imaginary wand at her, before dropping back to his lap. He ran a hand over his eyes, yawning.

‘Sorry.’ He mumbled, then straightened himself a little. ‘I have had much time to think, these past three years, Mother. I would like to propose a truce. I think there is too much bitterness and pain in the past to try to resolve those wounds immediately, so I propose we ignore them for now and focus on the future. I was a difficult child, I know, but I am not the same boy I was before I went to Azkaban. I wou-‘

‘AZKABAN!’ shrieked Walburga. ‘AZKABAN?!’

Sirius looked at her blankly. ‘Where did you think I’ve been the last few years?’

‘Stubbornly shirking your duties as House Lord and palling around with Dumbledore’s lackeys and idiots! You’ve been in AZKABAN?! Who dared arrest and imprison the Lord of House Black?!’

Sirius gave a wan smile. ‘Oh Mother, do I have a story for you.’ he said tiredly.