fuse is lit, ii
"Can we go back?" Charlie asked, already taking a step in towards the tunnels, his eyes fixed on the malevolent shades and spirits that flitted between the trees. He wouldn't know, but it was elaborate glamours designed to keep any uninvited visitors out. The Blacks did like thier madness.
They stood in a clearing, and Hailey considered summoning her sword -any sword- especially after spotting a pair of glowing red eyes lurking in a nearby bush. For all that she was raised as any pureblood would have been, she was still the daughter of Lily Potter and that came with the territory of muggle media. Hailey didn't complain much.
"Haunted magical tunnels that could collapse or lead us straight into danger, or a haunted magical forest, your pick," Hadrian said without looking back, casually walking in the opposite direction from the bush Hailey had her eye on.
Hailey ignored Charlie’s grumbling about how “he already chose,” and jogged to catch up with Rian.
"What are we doing here?" she asked, making sure Charlie was following them like the dutiful younger sister she is.
"Killing him."
Hailey tripped, Charlie tripped on her. She could feel the side eye Hadrian gave them, but he nevertheless turned back and helped them both to their feet.
"Relax," he told them, making his way back to them. "I'm killing him; I'm just dropping you off somewhere."
"And you're confident?" Charlie asked, his voice laced with doubt, pointedly ignoring Hailey’s muttered "somewhere" that had been spoken with clear distaste.
"Not much else to do now," Rian responded, tapping the side of his head. "And wise," he added, pointing at his temple, "won’t be needing much else, would we?"
"You saw this?" Hailey turned to ask him, hope creeping into her voice.
"What needed to happen, yes."
And really, Hailey supposed, when it came down to it, did anything else really matter? Hadrian Potter would either kill the Dark Lord or die trying, and he wouldn't go down without a fight.
Neither would Hailey, but what could she do? She was twelve, with only one year of underwhelming Hogwarts education under her belt. Not like Rian's any better, her brain retorted. He's only sixteen, you know, it continued.
Hailey pushed the thought aside and followed Rian through the forest, ducking under branches as they came. She felt jealousy rise for a moment, at how easily Hadrian pushed the branches away with his magic, but she quickly stomped down the feeling.
Prophy children have prophecy powers, Hailey chanted to herself, prophecy children, prophecy powers.
She conveniently ignored her own prophecy.
"So," Charlie began again, "where exactly are we going?"
"Black Manor," their older brother replied, hopping over a fallen tree, sounding -and acting- like he had a flawless, infallible plan.
"I see," Hailey said, in a voice that made it every apparent that she did not in fact see.
"Like anyone here is blind," Charlie muttered under his breath.
"I'm about to be," Rian corrected, looking back with a wry grin.
"You're an anomaly in the database," Charlie shot back, "Not like anyone else has been in half as many potion accidents or has alleged Sight," he added to his defense.
Hadrian didn't respond; he had stopped walking in front of what appeared to be another clearing—this one far less ominous. No shades lurking about nor no glowing eyes; that Hailey could see anyhow.
"Black Manor," he said softly, pointing toward the center of the field. "It's warded to hell and back, but it's there."
"Apparently invisible," Charlie grunted in response.
"Might as well be," Hailey, a fellow warding enthusiast, confirmed.
"Have fun," Rian said with a smile before apparating out with the familiar squeaky pop that Hailey had come to associate with the action.
"Punch him when he comes back?" Charlie suggested, crossing the wards and glancing back at Hailey.
"Punch him when he comes back," Hailey agreed, following after him.
Black Manor was less a manor and more a towering palace, worthy of being called an art piece of the millennia. It stood in stark contrast to everything around it, its black stone walls glistening in the light, reminding Hailey of her criminally late Astronomy lessons. She could definitely see herself stealing it from Hadrian Potter-Black the moment he dies in his one-man mad quest against the Dark Lord.
"He's not dying," Charlie said next to her, tugging her toward the entrance.
"If he does, I call dibs," Hailey replied, still wide-eyed in awe of the manor.
Charlie rolled his eyes. "You're acting like we’ve never been here before," he said, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
"We never saw it from the outside," Hailey defended herself. "We always magic’d our way in somehow," she added, shrugging.
"Rooms?" Charlie asked, clearly ready to move on, ignoring the magic transport comment comment.
"Rooms," Hailey confirmed, already on her way toward the room they had in Uncle Sirius’ house, despite the infamous falling out between their father and Sirius.
The Potter family magick, one Sirius Orion Black mused on his way back to Black Manor, was the ability to summon and wield swords that they bond with. Or, if the child descended from darker bloodlines, it tended to lean more towards necromancy; or both in Hadrian's very unique case.
Now, Sirius wasn’t a Potter, but the son he had essentially adopted was. Said son in question was quite apet at his family magicks, and his sister was following in his footsteps, as far as Sirius knew.
Not that Hailey was a necromancer, but her mastery of her sword was second only to Hades.
Then again, Sirius thought to himself, deep in his musing, pretty much everyone was second to Hades.
If Hailey Potter was bonded to two swords that she wielded expertly, Hadrian Potter-Black had mastered twelve. If Charles Potter was a genius at Transfiguration and Defense, Hadrian was well on his way to completing his NEWTs, despite having only just finished his OWLs.
Regardless of whatever Hadrian was doing to deal with their pest problem, Sirius had two children to welcome into Black Manor—even if they had long welcomed themselves in by now. But, well, no matter how much Sirius had resisted his mother, she hadn’t raised a bad host.
"Children!" he exclaimed as he entered the sitting area, where Charlie was reading A Hundred and One Charms for Defense and Hailey was practicing her aim with twelve daggers that Reggie had given her for her birthday.
"Uncle Sirius!" they chorused, jumping up to greet him, babbling excitedly about their day, arguing in the midst of it, as any pair of twins would.
"-then we entered the tunnels-"
"-almost died because of the bloody posters, I'm telling you-"
"-like those spirit shade thingies-"
"-and red eyes in a bush staring right at me-"
Sirius smiled at them, shuffling them toward the dining hall, nodding in agreement as they explained how they ended up at Black Manor.
"Then he just left!" Hailey exclaimed, appearing to have finsished telling her tale. "Like just apparated away!"
"Still don't know why we didn't apparate here," Charlie added, but at least he had begun eating.
"Well," Hailey started, picking at her food, "Our manor probably had anti-apparition wards, same here, so he probably didn’t bother."
Charlie hummed in agreement before turning his attention fully to her plate.
Sirius smiled at them, though inwardly, he was curious too. When it came to the Potter-Black child, however, one could only guess.
Hadrian Potter-Black was, and still is, Sirius reminded himself, the son of James Potter and Amalthea Black. Shortly after their ugly, scandal-worthy, front-page of the Daily Prophet divorce, Lord Potter had married Lily Evans and fathered the twins.
Seeing as both Reggie and Sirius were still childless, Hadrian was the heir to the House of Black after him, especially since Reggie was off touring the world with Thea, leaving poor Sirius and Hadrian to handle the British clusterfuck that was politics.
"It'll be fine," Reggie had said that dark, dark summer day as they packed their bags. "Can't be that bad," Thea had shrugged to him as they both waved goodbye before portkeying to Merlin-knows-where.
Sirius was still bitter about it, especially on days like this when he was stuck trying to counter both idiotic sides of the war attempting to pass equally idiotic laws. On days when his adopted son was off trying to fix the world.
'It'll be fine,' Hadrian had written in his letter, long before the Dark Lord had heard of the Prophecy. 'I saw an end to this bloodshed,' it continued, as if that mattered. 'And wise, even if the fuse is lit now, Uncle. Nothing else to do while it burns.' The letter had continued, before Sirius had gotten fed up and burned it.
Fuse is lit, huh, Sirius repeated to himself, staring at the roof of his office, hoping it would somehow provide an escape from the hole he was in.
Outside, a thunderstorm began raging.
Sirius couldn’t help but laugh after that, an insane, kind of laugh. The kind that said 'did a stint in Azkaban, and it shows.'
The Black Madness Laugh. Fitting, considering Sirius was the Black Lord.
James Potter and Sirius Black were as close as any two young wizards could get. They slept in the same room, had the same classes, and ate whatever the other had.
Keyword here, is 'were'.
In truth, Sirius did not know if Azkaban changed him, if marriage changed James, or if they were never meant to be in actuality and Sirius was holding onto his grand delusions of a found family; no offense meant to Reggie and Thea of course.
In truth, Sirius found that he couldn't really care after the famous Potter-Black Divorce. Close as he was to James, Amalthea was his sister before James was Prongs.
And hence, the Potter-Black Divorce was more than just Amalthea Black divorcing James Potter, it was Sirius Black rescinding all help to the Order. It was the end of seven long years of friendship, brotherhood, and mischief.
It was the end of an age.
Teenage Sirius would have mourned, Adult him could hardly care less. For all he was a Gryffindor in Hogwarts, Sirius caught the hat tooth and nail to get the red tie. It was no surprise really, he wasn't even just a member to a dark house, he was the heir to one of the most ancient dark houses in the Isles.
He may have spent seven long years in the Red Tower, but he was raised as any self respecting pureblood heir dark aligned would have; by snakes to be a snake.
Sirius Black may not have had the noble black tongue, but he was as Black as they come.
The Blacks bowned to no man nor crown, and for all that his dear cousin Bella was insane, he wasn't. And if that meant taking up arms in a crusade to end the Tyrant -as Hadrian likes to call him- then Sirius could easily help.
Even if it meant playing nice on the Wizengamot for a while.