No Way Home
When the spill was cleaned, she stood, careful to keep her head down as she collected the bucket and cloth. She began to retreat toward the door, her mind racing. Do it now. Make him see you.
But before she could speak, the bucket slipped from her hands, the metal clanging loudly against the stone floor, causing her to flinch and a sheepish look overtook her features. The sound silenced the room instantly, all eyes snapping toward her. Her pulse quickened, her cheeks flushing as she bent to retrieve it.
Sirius turned at the noise, his sharp gaze locking onto her. Celeste straightened, her heart hammering in her chest as she finally met his eyes. The recognition was immediate, the colour draining from his face as his expression shifted from confusion to shock.
For a moment, no one spoke. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on her like a physical force.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Sirius spoke, “Celeste?”
Celeste swallowed nervously, her lip trembling as she realised he had seen her. He recognised her! Her hands trembled as she clutched the bucket as though it were her lifeline as her heart pounded.
“It’s me,” she said softly, her voice breaking under the weight of the moment.
The room stayed silent, the lords of the council looking between the serving girl and the Lord they’d come to respect.
Sirius straightened and took a tentative step forward, not quite believing his eyes. His expression morphed into one of wonder and confusion.
“How?” He began, his brows furrowed, but the words hung unfinished in the air.
Before either of them could speak again, the doors to the chamber swung open, a steward entering with a stack of parchments. The moment shattered, the noise and movement jolting everyone back to reality. Celeste’s heart sank as she realized their reunion was far from private.
Sirius’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes still locked on hers. “We need to talk,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Celeste nodded, her mind racing. She nodded, straightening her posture as Sirius made his way out of the chamber, a gentle hand on her arm as he led her out and through the twisting corridors.
His pace was brisk, his cloak swirling behind him as his boots clicked against the stone floor. Celeste followed in silence, her heart racing with a mix of emotions: relief, fear, and the lingering disbelief that she was finally here, walking beside him.
He hadn’t said a word since they left the council chambers, but his grip on her wrist never loosened. His expression was unreadable, a storm of questions and emotions brewing behind his sharp eyes. Celeste didn’t dare break the silence, unsure of what he was thinking—or how much he had changed since she last saw him.
Finally, they reached his quarters. Sirius pushed the heavy wooden door open, guiding her inside before closing it firmly behind them. The room was spacious but simple, its stone walls softened by rich tapestries and a few personal touches: a stack of books on the table, a pair of well-worn boots by the bed, and a goblet of wine half-finished on the desk. It smelled faintly of leather and parchment, a comfortingly familiar scent that made Celeste’s chest tighten.
Sirius turned to face her, his hand falling away from her wrist. His gaze swept over her, his eyes searching her face as though trying to reconcile the girl he had left behind with the woman standing before him now.
His hands came up to her face, wiping away the sweat and grease that had accumulated on her skin from the labour of her chores. His eyes traced every feature on her face as though seeing her for the first time. Whilst her eyes and hair were undoubtedly traits he’d passed down to her, everything else was her mothers, from her nose, to her lips and even her chin and his gaze softened as he thought back on the woman he loved.
“Celeste,” he said at last, his voice low and filled with a mix of wonder and disbelief. “It really is you.”
Celeste nodded, her throat tight. “It’s me,” she said softly. “I’m here.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and years of separation. Sirius stepped back and let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Merlin, I thought I’d lost you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “After… after everything, I thought I’d never see you again.”
His words opened a floodgate of emotions in Celeste, and she stepped forward, her voice trembling. “I thought I’d lost you too. When I saw you fall through the Veil-” She broke off, her breath hitching. “I couldn’t just leave it. I couldn’t let you be gone.”
Sirius’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “The Veil,” he repeated, as though the words carried weight he didn’t fully understand. “You… you crossed it?”
She nodded. “I did. I couldn’t stay behind, not knowing. So I… I found a way.” Her voice was quiet but firm, the memory of her journey filling her with equal parts pride and pain.
Sirius sank into one of the chairs by the fire, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at her. “You’re telling me you left the Wizarding World, that you stepped through the Veil on purpose?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “To find you.”
The tension in the room snapped like a taut string, Sirius’s expression darkening as the weight of Celeste’s words settled over him. He turned from Celeste, going towards the fireplace where he paced in front of it with a restless energy that made the room feel charged.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and when he finally turned to face her, his voice was low and sharp, trembling with barely restrained anger.
“You had no idea where that Veil led, Celeste,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a blade. “No idea if it would take you to me—or if it would kill you outright.”
Celeste flinched at the venom in his tone but stood her ground. “I had to try—”
“Try?” Sirius interrupted, his voice rising. “You call throwing yourself into something that has claimed countless lives trying? You didn’t think, did you? You didn’t think about what might happen if you were wrong, or about what it would do to Harry, to everyone else, if you’d—”
He broke off, his voice cracking, and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “Do you know how reckless that was? How bloody stupid?”
Celeste’s throat tightened, but she refused to back down. “I couldn’t just let you be gone, Sirius! Not after everything we’ve been through—”
“You think that makes it better?” he snapped, stepping closer. “You think that excuses risking your life for a gamble? Do you know how many people I’ve lost because they thought they were invincible? Because they thought they could cheat fate?”
Celeste’s voice trembled, but her eyes burned with defiance. “I didn’t think I was invincible. I just thought—no, I knew—I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to find you. You’re my father. What was I supposed to do? Forget about you? Pretend like you never existed?”
Sirius stopped short, his chest heaving as her words hit him. For a moment, the anger in his eyes flickered, replaced by something raw and unguarded. He looked at her, really looked at her, and his shoulders slumped slightly as the fight drained out of him.
“Celeste,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You didn’t know what you were walking into. You could’ve died. You almost certainly should have.” He shook his head, his hand dragging down his face as though trying to ground himself. “I can’t—I won’t lose you, too. Do you understand me?”
His words were a plea, and the weight of his fear settled heavily between them. Celeste felt her anger falter, replaced by a deep ache in her chest. She stepped closer, her voice soft but resolute. “I understand. But I couldn’t lose you, either.”
Sirius looked at her for a long moment, his jaw tight and his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders sagging. “You’re as reckless as your old man,” he muttered, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And just as maddening.”
Celeste managed a faint smile in return, the tension between them easing, though the gravity of their argument lingered in the air. “Guess I had to get it from somewhere.”
"Come." Sirius said, letting out a deep sigh and gesturing towards the chairs by the fire. Celeste lowered herself into the soft velvet, Sirius mimicking her movements. They faced each other, sitting silently for a moment.
Celeste allowed herself a small smile, but it quickly faded as she leaned on the chair arm. “Dad, so much has happened since you’ve been gone. The war—”
“What happened?” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “The war—did we win? Did Harry—”
“Yes,” she said quickly, her heart aching at the urgency in his voice. “Voldemort is gone. Harry—he defeated him. The Wizarding World is free.”
Sirius let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair as relief washed over his face. “Thank Merlin,” he muttered. “I always knew he’d do it.”
Celeste’s expression darkened. “But it wasn’t without cost. So many people died, Sirius. Remus, Tonks, Fred Weasley…” Her voice cracked as she spoke their names, and she looked away. “We lost so much.”
Sirius’s face fell, his relief giving way to grief. He rubbed a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. “Remus,” he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow. “And Tonks…”
“They fought bravely,” Celeste said, her voice trembling. “They died protecting what they believed in.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening as he processed the loss. “And Harry? How is he?”
“He’s… alive,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “But he’s not the same. None of us are. The war changed everything.”
Sirius’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “And you? What about you, Celeste? What happened to you?”
She hesitated, the weight of her own story pressing down on her. “I fought too,” she said simply. “I did things I’m not proud of, but I did what I had to. After the war… I became an Unspeakable. I thought it would help me move on, but I couldn’t let go of what happened to you. That’s why I crossed the Veil. I found a book, a journal. It hinted towards the possibility of the Veil being a Portkey.” Celeste took a deep breath. “I didn’t have much to leave behind back home. I felt… lost. I needed to find you. You’re the only family I have left.”
He stared at her, his jaw clenching. He paused for a moment. “Celeste, you don’t understand what you’ve done. This place—it’s not like our world. It’s dangerous.” He said softly.
“I know that,” she said firmly. “But I don’t care. I came here to find you, and I’m not leaving without you.”
Sirius froze for a moment, before letting out a deep sigh and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “Celeste,” he began, his voice heavy with the weight of what he was about to say. “I’ve tried.”
She looked at him, confused. “Tried what?”
“To go back,” he said, turning his head to meet her gaze. His expression was raw, a mix of frustration and sorrow. “I’ve spent years trying to find a way back through the Veil. To return to the Wizarding World. To you. To Harry. To everything I left behind.”
Celeste’s breath hitched. “And?”
He shook his head, the movement slow and deliberate. “There’s no way. The Veil only works one way, and that’s if you survive the crossing at all. It’s like… like stepping off a cliff and hoping there’s a bridge on the other side. For us, somehow, there was. But going back? It’s impossible.”
The finality of his words settled over her like a heavy shroud. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, the enormity of what he was saying crashing over her. No way home. The thought echoed in her mind, louder and louder, until it became almost unbearable.
“I’m sorry, Celeste, truly I am. But the truth of the matter is, we’re stuck here. This world- however awful it is, it’s all we have now.”
Still, she said nothing.
Sirius’s voice broke through the quiet, hesitant but full of concern. “Say something,” he urged, leaning forward again. “Celeste, please.”
Her fingers tightened in her lap, and when she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. “I don’t care.”
Sirius blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, her resolute. “I don’t care,” she repeated, louder this time. “I don’t care if we can’t go back. I don’t care if this is where we have to stay. As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter.”
Sirius stared at her, his expression softening as the weight of her words sank in. “Celeste,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting him off.
“I spent so long thinking you were gone,” she said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “Thinking I’d never see you again. And now that I have you, I’m not letting go. I don’t care about the rest of it. You’re here. That’s enough.”
The room was quiet again, save for the crackling of the fire. Sirius leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening as he looked at her. “You’re wiser than I remember. Sharper, too.” He chuckled.
“I had to grow up quite quickly.” Celeste managed a small smile in return, though her chest still ached with the enormity of their situation.
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head as he reached across the small table between them and took her hand in his. His grip was warm and steady, a lifeline in the storm that had become their lives.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “This world, this life—it’s not what we planned, but we’ll make it work. Together.”
Celeste nodded, the flicker of hope in his voice enough to kindle her own. “Together,” she echoed.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the weight on her chest began to lift. They might be trapped in a strange world, with no way home and no clear path forward, but they had each other. And for now, that was enough.
The next morning, Celeste woke to the rising sun as it streamed through the windows of Sirius’s chambers.She sat upright, her back stiff from the awkward angle she had fallen asleep in. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced across the room and saw Sirius slumped in the chair opposite her, his head resting against the backrest, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as soft snores echoed through the chamber.
They’d stayed up so late the night before that the pair had fallen asleep by the fire.
It wasn’t a dream, Celeste thought, a small smile creeping up her face. He’s really here.
For a moment, she just watched him. His face was relaxed in sleep, the tension that usually lined his features softened. He looked younger like this, almost as she remembered him from the time before Azkaban had left its mark. But even in his rest, the faint lines around his eyes and the streaks of silver in his hair spoke of the years that had passed and the weight he had carried.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Celeste’s lips. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen him so at peace, and she wasn’t eager to wake him. But the fire was nearly out, and the day had already begun. She shifted in her chair, the movement drawing a faint creak from the wooden frame.
Sirius stirred at the sound, his brows furrowing slightly before he opened his eyes. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, before his gaze landed on her. “Morning already?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
“Afraid so,” Celeste said softly, her smile widening. “You fell asleep in the chair. Not exactly the most comfortable place for a nap.”
Sirius stretched, wincing slightly as he rolled his shoulders. “Tell me about it. I’ll be feeling that for the next week.” He glanced toward the hearth, noticing the faint glow of the embers. “Looks like we both needed the rest.”
Celeste nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t even remember falling asleep. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Sirius said, his tone gentler now. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. “Last night… everything we talked about… Are you all right?”
For the first time, she could confidently answer that. “Yes. I really am. I’m here, and so are you. That’s more than enough.”
Sirius nodded, his expression softening. “It’s more than I could have hoped for.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of the dying fire a quiet reassurance. Then Sirius straightened, running a hand through his hair as he stood. “Well, we can’t sit here all day. We’ve got work to do.”
“Work?” Celeste asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “You didn’t think I’d let you lounge around the keep unnoticed, did you? You’re my daughter, Celeste. That means we’ve got to make it official. Proper introductions, court appearances, the whole lot.”
Celeste groaned, leaning back in her chair. “Can’t we skip all that and just stay here by the fire?”
“Not a chance,” Sirius said, pulling her to her feet. “The court needs to see you for who you are. And besides, I need an excuse to drag you to the tailor. You can’t exactly meet the king dressed like a scullery maid.”
She glanced down at the maids' clothing, pulling at the scratchy fabric with distaste. “You have a very good point. But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you!” She teased.
Sirius laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. “Deal. Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
As they left the room together, the faint spark of hope in their shared smiles hinted at the strength they’d found in each other. For the first time since crossing the Veil, Celeste felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.