Toujours Pur
Cold draughts of wind caressed her bare skin, and before her thoughts could fully arrive from that place between sleep and wakefulness, her thoughts drifted to her cupboard under the stairs. It was never as cold there as stone, but it was the creeping chill of light winds and loneliness that met her there.
Her thoughts came to her as two emeralds produced soft glows in the dark chamber. Heather shot up as she realized she was bereft of clothes, thoughts speeding up in panic as scenarios flitted through her at a frantic pace. She took a few moments to calm herself as she gradually recalled where she was.
The Ritual...
Heather exhaled slowly and allowed her sight to clear up, realizing upon the first instance that her sight seemed much sharper. Even in the darkness, she could descry her surroundings with a clarity she never had before. She stood, and was disorientated for a brief moment at how easy the movement was and how much higher her line of sight became. She understood that she had grown a few inches, firmly placing her on the taller spectrum for girls her age.
Heather felt none of the discomfort or ache she was accustomed to bearing upon her movements. She felt light and free, and that she could breathe the air without inhibition. She paced around slowly to accustom herself to her physical changes, noting how much easier everything felt. She lifted her palm and willed her magic to the fore.
An orb of blue light manifested in her palm with nary a thought, and her breath hitched at how easy it had felt. If before, calling upon her magic felt like wading through thick mud, her magic now felt as seamless and instinctual as calling upon her breath. At that moment, she realized, for the first time since she was born, that magic was her life. It sang to her, comforted her, was the entity in the universe that called to her and protected her and empowered her.
And she would never take it for granted.
She took in a breath, finally feeling free from invisible constraints she hadn't realized had bound her. The cold predatory hate remained coiled within her, a patient thing, but it no longer controlled her. She controlled it, and seemingly every faculty with which she had been gifted. Her mind, body, soul, magic - all of it was within her own control, all facets of her interconnected like never before, and only she could dictate the way they would be directed.
She exhaled softly before nodding to herself, the euphoria her changes wrought ebbing slightly as she considered her next action. Like every well-bred pureblood scion, it was obvious.
"Kreacher?"
Pop.
She called a House-Elf.
A momentary silence fell upon a sitting room of Black Castle.
"You're going to educate her as Family Head personally?" Regulus asked his grandfather in bewilderment.
Arcturus hardened his gaze and clenched his jaw, "Orion, Sirius. I never taught them personally, and look what happened. No, for House Black, I will see to the girl's education. I will not see this House fall because I was negligent. Those mistakes of mine have long passed."
Cassie cackled, a dangerous thing, "You wouldn't mind if I teach her... the other parts, do you Archie?"
Regulus' incredulous gaze flitted between the two older people, "You're starting her on the Dark Arts? At her age?"
Cassie's gaze grew cold as she bore into her grand-nephew's eyes, "No. She will get a wand only after I drill her in the Mind Arts," her expression lightened with a satisfied smile before continuing, "From what she has told us, she has quite the affinity for that branch of magic, just like any good Black."
Regulus nodded slowly but could not divest himself of his concern for the girl. He was about to comment on how dangerous teaching a child the Dark Arts was before a light pop sounded, announcing the arrival of a House-Elf.
They turned towards the sound, and all three had their eyes widen in surprise. The girl that appeared felt very different to the vulnerable one they had met a few days prior. She was taller, looked healthier, the emeralds brighter, almost glowing with magic. Her black hair fell in slight waves, accentuating her flawless skin. She walked with a natural grace about her, and the occupants of the room could feel the ambient magic in the castle sing to her.
It's almost like The Dark Lord... Regulus thought to himself as he was entranced by the magnitude of presence his niece possessed.
Cassie's eyes had a manic tint to them as she smiled with her teeth, and Arcturus' own gaze hardened with what Regulus could only say was determination.
"How do you feel lass?" The older man said as his eyes took in everything about the future Head of House.
Heather's lip quirked up slightly, an expression so naturally dangerous, Regulus questioned if the girl had been possessed.
"Excellent. It's like I can finally breathe," her voice had a slight lilt, something unique and dangerous lay beneath her words, and for the first time, Regulus questioned whether the Ritual had irreversibly changed his niece for the worse. The subconscious comparisons to the Dark Lord did not help his concern.
Arcturus held her gaze for a lingering moment before he nodded.
"Good, come with me to Gringotts and we will set the family affairs in order."
Heather's exterior melted into a warm smile at the mention of family, and Regulus exhaled in relief. Perhaps little Heather would be a dangerous individual, but she, more than any Black, would hold family as paramount. She, more than any child should, knew just how significant family was. She had already been betrayed by those of her blood thrice, after all; the Potters twice and then the Muggles.
More than anything, she was still little Heather to him, and always would be.
"I would like to speak to account manager Broadaxe," Heather said clearly with an incline of her head. Arcturus stood beside her was content to let her lead the proceedings.
The goblin clerk observed her for a second before giving her a grin, "Follow me please."
He led them through opulent marble hallways and corridors, some lined by intricate carvings detailing some Goblin lore. Finally, they came upon an ornate door whereupon a plaque with Broadaxe's name was placed. The Goblin knocked, and when they were bid to enter, he left, gesturing for them to continue on.
Heather comported herself with a straight back and held her head with confidence. She entered with Arcturus trailing half a step behind her. Broadaxe looked up from his sheaf of parchments, and when his eyes met Heather's, he smiled, sharp teeth glistening off chandelier light.
"Ah... Heiress Black. I see you underwent a Ritual," he said with a sharp and amused smile.
Heather inclined her head in acknowledgement, "Indeed Sir Broadaxe. Apologies I did not inform you, however my family had made prior arrangements for me. We mean no offence by it."
Broadaxe barked a laugh, "None taken." The goblin's gaze shifted to Arcturus speculatively, "I take it you wish to claim headship?"
Heather's smile widened, mimicking the Goblin's slightly, showing her own white teeth, a dangerous thing that promised pain and retribution to all those who wronged her and her House.
"You would be correct, Sir Broadaxe."
The Goblin nodded, then retrieved an ornate box carved with the Black Family Crest. He opened the lid, then slid the box towards her.
Heather's eyes gleamed slightly as she took in the sight of the ring sitting on a silk cushion. It was silver with a small obsidian stone carved with the Black crest. It was tasteful as far as jewelry went.
She glanced towards Arcturus who nodded imperceptibly towards her. She took a deep breath before gently taking the ring, sliding it over her pinky finger.
A swirl of magic caressed her in a slight question. Dark and intangible whispers surrounded her as she felt the judgement of her family's magic. Slowly, those whispers ceased, the wild magic calmed, and the last thing Heather noted was the taste of the Family Magic's subservience. The phenomenon passed in a second, the ring now fitting her pinky finger snugly.
Heather exhaled, and Arcturus looked on with satisfaction and pride as the family magic accepted her.
Broadaxe cleared his throat, "Now, as the head of House Black, there are some adjustments and discussion we need to have in regards to your assets..."
After a long while where Heather familiarized herself with the assets and fortune of the Black Family, the magnitude of which had left her speechless, and after receiving some peculiar and interesting information, she nodded her head to her account manager, and left with Arcturus back to Black Castle.
"You did well," Arcturus said to her as they entered the castle, "I will see to your education on everything that is required as head, but the choices and decisions that dictate this family will be yours to make. I will of course, give advice where it is sought, but now you are responsible for the Black Family."
The words of her great-grandfather warmed her, even as they were probably intended to intimidate. She knew that the fact that he was putting such faith in her was a gesture of trust, and she tried not to choke as she responded, "Yes grandfather."
Arcturus wore an imperceptible smile as he led the girl down into one of the basement chambers of the castle, "Follow me lass. There is something I want to show you."
He led her to an empty chamber with an intricate tapestry woven into the wall in front of them.
"This is the Black Family Tree," Arcturus spoke, his pride marred with sadness and regret. Heather observed the man's aged visage, and his eyes told of pride, disappointment, accomplishment, regret, and tragedy.
"I can not restore it now..." He whispered, the desolate chamber witnessing his momentary weakness. "There's too much between us," his fingers traced over the names of his living family members.
Bellatrix. Narcissa. Andromeda. Sirius. Regulus. Cassiopeia. Marius. And...Heather.
Heather's eyes widened slightly in surprise as she observed the intricate thread descending from Sirius' avatar to her own. Ever since she had regained her memories, she had always considered herself a Black, even though deep down she knew she was born of the Potters, despite her distaste of the name. It seemed that Magic disagreed with her. She smiled warmly as her fingers traced her avatar on the tapestry.
I am a Black. Magic itself has decreed it.
The revelation made her happy beyond what words could describe, and she felt a duty and love towards those names and images of those yet alive on the tapestry. Without even knowing them, she knew they were family, and as it was, at least as the Head of House, she was responsible now for every single name embroidered there. Looking at her great grandfather lost in his own memories, Heather vowed to herself.
She vowed to restore her family. To make whole what had been broken.
"Why is Andromeda's name burnt?" Heather asked quietly as she traced the names in hope of etching them into her heart, feeling the scorched fabric beneath her fingertips.
"She married a Mudblood," Arcturus said softly.
"And?" Heather asked with a furrowed brow.
"That's what she did. She broke tradition. She abandoned the family," Arcturus spoke with a blank face.
Heather observed the older man before shaking her head slightly and whispered with a painful and familiar disappointment, "Did she abandon the family, grandfather? Or did the family abandon her?"
Arcturus' lip quirked slightly in something that could be construed as approval, "You're Head of House now. Only you can answer that question."
Heather nodded and looked up at him with a smile, returning her gaze to the names, "And what of Bellatrix?"
"Azkaban. She followed The Dark Lord," Arcturus said, and this time Heather did not need to look at him to hear the myriad regrets lacing his tone.
"Uncle Reg followed The Dark Lord," Heather said.
Arcturus hummed.
"Narcissa?" She asked.
"Married to a Malfoy," he said with distaste.
Heather's eyebrow quirked up slightly, "You don't approve?"
Arcturus shook his head, "It wasn't her choice. She wanted to be a Healer."
Heather nodded, ideas forming in her head for ways she could make her family whole again.
There was a comfortable quiet as Heather and Arcturus stood before the tapestry. The old and young of the remains of the Black Family both stayed in silent contemplation. A while later, the silence was broken.
"Sirius is in Azkaban," Heather stated.
Arcturus nodded.
"Is there any legal way to get him out?" She asked, her emotions well hidden behind a blank mask.
"Unlikely. He was sentenced for attempted Line Theft."
Heather nodded, not expecting anything else.
"It doesn't matter. I'll get him and Aunt Bellatrix out of there soon enough."
Arcturus almost smiled at the declaration and looked down at his successor with fondness and pride.
"I don't doubt it."
Whenever the cold came, he would think of Heather, how his stupid mistake might have sentenced the little girl to a terrible fate.
He sighed, the chill that approached him beginning to freeze his breath. In his form as Padfoot, he ambled his way to the corner of his cell where his cellmate was shuddering, her head buried in her knees. Padfoot whimpered as he curled himself onto her lap and the woman responded by clutching him tightly, both of them seeking warmth and comfort from the other.
It still felt surreal, how they both found themselves in their situation.
FLASHBACK
Sirius watched as the imposing dark structure seemed to approach him with every passing breath. The wind became chillier every moment that the boat sailed onward upon the rocky sea toward the looming shadow.
It was a horrid, ugly thing - all jagged stone and walls endlessly beaten by the rain and the waves.
Dark figures swam between thick clouds, and the chill grew more intense.
Sirius rubbed his hands to ward off the cold, cursing under his foggy breath.
"Fucking Dumbledore. Fucking Potter. Goat Shit...Griffin fuckers" he mumbled with his head down, attempting to keep his thoughts away from the one that had come to mean the most to him, willing away his tears whenever thoughts of the girl approached.
He was interrupted by an unwelcome giggle from another occupant on the boat. The other soon-to-be-inmates glanced at the sound for a second before returning to their own misery.
"What's Siri done to get sent to the big bad scary place?" Bellatrix asked with childish amusement in her eyes, and at that moment, Sirius had failed to discern anything else behind those violet eyes.
He gave a glance towards his cousin and sighed, willing the waves to somehow swallow them up so he wouldn't have to suffer her presence.
"I did nothing but take care of my daughter," He said tiredly, choking back a sob at the mere thought, not wanting to discuss anything with his crazed murderous cousin.
Something flickered in Bellatrix's eyes for a brief moment before her brow furrowed, "Didn't know Siri would ever marry. Ickle Siri even swore he wouldn't."
Sirius' eyes widened slightly in surprise at her comment, "How could you remember that? I was seven!"
"Well?" She asked, seemingly not in the mood for anything less than a straight answer.
Sirius shook his head and sighed, not quite believing how surreal his situation was. Here he was, having a somewhat civil conversation with the last person he thought he'd be able to have one with. A crazed follower of the Dark Lord no less.
Sirius paused at the thought. How would he know? He hadn't really talked to her since they were children, and anything he had heard of her were by second hand accounts. He knew how deceiving those could be, especially since he heard Regulus' story.
He sighed, "Blood adopted. Her parents wanted to send her off to live with muggles. I refused to allow that," he said grimly.
Bellatrix turned towards him sharply with narrowed eyes. She blinked, then smiled a smile he hadn't seen on her in years, "Looks like Aunt Walburga should eat her words."
Sirius frowned in confusion, "What?"
Bellatrix giggled again, this time with genuine mirth, "Looks like you're a real Black after all."
Sirius shook his head again, recalling the night he ran off with Heather, "Why would her parents send her to suffer muggles? Worse, I knew exactly what kind of shit stains they were, and they knew it too."
Bellatrix sobered at that, "So, where is the girly now? You did have her sent somewhere before they caught you?"
Sirius' red-rimmed eyes and desolate expression was enough of an answer for the woman and she whispered dangerously.
"Who?"
Sirius took a deep breath, "The Potters. Dumbledore told them to do it, and of course they listened."
Sirius could not believe the genuine anger and rage on the woman's face was for his daughter, but now he knew there was more to the woman than he ever thought.
Of course there was. Turns out I knew nothing about my own family.
Sirius was beginning to re-evaluate all that he thought he knew, and worried that he was probably too late. He had barely the time to make amends with his brother, and that had been borne out of desperation than anything else.
Before Bellatrix went on an inevitable rant, the boat landed and Sirius shuddered from the encroaching cold. He really had no idea why they didn't offer him a trial. Well, he supposed, if glorious Potter and Dumbledore said he was a felon, that was all the proof the wizarding public needed.
The charges were not entirely untrue - he had kidnapped the heiress of an old and respected line, but they of course did not tell the entire story.
That their beloved icons of all that was holy and just wanted to subject their heiress to a life of muggles. As an oath-sworn godfather, he refused to allow her to be subjected to such a life. Heather was as good as his own daughter, having spent even more time with her than her own parents - a duty which he bore with pride and passion.
Sirius scowled. He was not a bigot, but he had enough common sense to know that a witch or wizard should never ever be raised in a muggle house, not least one from such an old line, and especially not when the muggles know that their charge was magical.
Fuck you James.
"Up," the cold faces of red-robed Aurors pushed the few inmates along towards the imposing gates.
Sirius did not know how he would survive the place if the chill was always so intense. He was amazed that inmates here lasted as long as they did in the first place.
He turned to his left to see his cousin bearing it with all the strength and pride she could, not allowing the place or the Dementors to faze her. Sirius could still see her fingers twitch from the cold, but at that moment, he could not help but respect the woman.
Sirius cursed under his breath as they were forced forward even as Bellatrix cackled.
Azkaban was filling up and vacant cells were becoming somewhat of a commodity. Either that, or the Aurors assigned to escort them really did not want to lead them in any further, not that Sirius could blame them; Azkaban was a dreary place.
The group of four inmates were led to two adjacent cells, the other two in their group protesting their treatment, claiming that The Dark Lord would have all of their guts.
"Shut the fuck up Rudy," Bellatrix spat.
Rodolphus LeStrange became silent at the rebuke before his eyes lit up with no doubt a stupid idea, "Bella, why don't you share a cell with me? I can finally show my wife a good time."
"You put me in a cell with him, and one of us will die before tomorrow," Bellatrix's eyes narrowed dangerously, and the Aurors nonchalantly shoved the two brothers in one of the cells, and Sirius and Bellatrix in the other.
Truthfully, they really did not care about it, but the death of an inmate always required some investigations and paperwork, and the less time any Auror spent in Azkaban the better.
"I take it you don't like him then?" Sirius asked with a frown once they had settled in their cold, damp, wet, cramped, cell.
"The most I could do to that git is curse him. You know how marriage contracts are," Bellatrix's eyes narrowed, "Or maybe you don't."
Sirius shook his head at that, "Well, from the sounds of it, he couldn't get you into his bed, so that's a plus."
Her eyes lit up in amusement, "Oh, he tried, but he learnt not to get near me eventually. I've been trying to get him killed for ages," she sighed in disappointment, "I suppose Azkaban will have to do for now."
"Well, I'd gladly do it if we ever get out of here. I need some things to kill..." Sirius said darkly. He needed to vent and release all of his frustrations on something, and being in Azkaban did nothing to quell his violent urges.
Bella's eyes widened slightly, "Wasn't ickle Siri all light and good?"
Sirius met her eyes with an intense stare, a far cry from the prankster he was during his Hogwarts years, "Yeah, that was before they took my daughter from me. I'd kill whatever I need to for her."
"Toujours Pur," Bellatrix whispered with longing.
"She's technically a half-blood... but if the blood adoption ritual worked right, I guess she is a pureblood now," Sirius stated, unimpressed by his cousin's apparent blood purity fanaticism.
"No you idiot," Bellatrix scowled, "Grandfather told me what it meant once. It's about family."
Sirius raised an eyebrow at that, "Mother always said -"
"Walburga was an uneducated sow," She interjected.
Sirius barked a laugh at that, even as the chill intensified and the shadows approached.
"Family, is it?" Sirius asked in the lull between Dementor patrols.
Bellatrix nodded, then assumed a regal posture as she deepened her voice.
"The Blacks are dangerous, deceitful, conniving bastards," she said, and Sirius was amused by her impression of their grandfather. He was about to comment, but the words became stuck on his throat as Bellatrix continued.
"- But to family, their intentions are always pure."
The amusement left him as those words struck something deep in his chest. He thought about his brother and the late night conversations he had with him when Heather was asleep. He thought about Heather, and how he was her only lifeline after the Potters had chosen to abandon her.
"Toujours Pur," he whispered in understanding, his gaze softening slightly as he watched his cousin succumb to the encroaching chill.
"Your father always was a bastard," Sirius said in disgust after hearing how he had coerced her into a marriage contract, "No wonder Andi had to run away."
Bellatrix furrowed her brows at the mention of her sister, "I could have stopped her, but I let her go."
Sirius' eyes widened at that admission, "You? A pureblood fanatic let her go off to marry a Muggleborn?"
"She shouldn't have run," Bellatrix scowled, but the conflict was clear in her eyes, "But she was happy."
Sirius observed his cousin for a moment before he sighed and did something that surprised the both of them.
He gave her a brief hug, "I'm sure if she knew, she would thank you."
The chill came again, and with it, all the pain and anger and sadness and regret.
"Come to think of it, The Dark Lord never did come to our house to search for Reg," Sirius said, his face gaunt and eyes hollow. They didn't know how long they had been inside the cell. It could have been a week or a year.
"Of course," Bellatrix scoffed, "I'd never lead him there. Reg is family," she said simply.
"Even if he was plotting against your lord?" Sirius asked with curiosity.
Bellatrix's eyes lit with life upon that question, and Sirius could see a veritable storm of emotions swirling within them.
"Especially if he was plotting against... my lord" Bellatrix said the last part with no little sarcasm.
Sirius was speechless for a moment before he reviewed everything he knew about Bellatrix, and all that he had learned about her.
"I suppose you had little choice but to follow him, seeing as..." Sirius inclined his head towards the wall leading to the adjacent cell where her husband and brother-in-law wasted away.
"And I was good with my wand. The best. And He wanted a good wand, so I was the fanatic follower," Bellatrix's eyes gained a crazed gleam in them, but now Sirius understood what that gleam meant.
For survival.
"A consummate Slytherin," Sirius said as he observed his cousin with even more respect and renewed his opinion of her for what seemed to be the dozenth time.
Her lips quirked, "And don't you forget it."
Sirius shook his head in awe. She had fooled all the Death Eaters and Voldemort and Dumbledore and the Ministry into believing she was as crazed and fanatically loyal as she appeared to be.
I bet she even boasted about her loyalty during her trial.
Sirius' eyes lit up in recognition and realization as he thought about Bellatrix and her actions and intentions further, "It was for Andi and Cissy?"
Her eyes shone in sadness and love, something the old Sirius would have denied was possible, but as he came to understand his cousin more, he couldn't help but be moved.
"A fanatic pureblood would have nothing to do with her sister who married a Mudblood. She would have no idea about her, and blackmailing her with her life would never work. Cissy was married to a Death Eater and wouldn't have to follow them as long as one of the Black sisters was loyal..." She muttered.
"Toujours Pur..." Sirius whispered, his awe and respect for the woman left him speechless.
"Should have been a bloody Hufflepuff," he said with a choked sob.
Bellatrix smiled at him, a genuine thing, "The hat did consider it," she said with nostalgia, "but it decided that my ruthlessness, cunning, and ambition deserved Slytherin."
The chill began to invade once more.
"What's your daughter like?" Bellatrix asked as she lay on the stone, her eyes fixed on the dripping ceiling.
Despite the cold and the hunger and the pain, Sirius smiled, "A bloody menace, that's what," he said with fondness, "A Ravenclaw that one. She was reading from the Black Library since I took her to Grimmauld. She was only three at the time."
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at that, "A smart one then. The apple fell so far from the tree there."
Sirius shook his head in amusement, "Not only smart, she was controlling her magic consciously at that age too. Merlin knows how powerful she'd be when grown."
Bella's eyes widened at that and she sat up, "And you blood-adopted her?"
Sirius nodded.
Bella smiled, "She's a Black then. She'd have been disowned from the Potter family after willingly undergoing a blood adoption."
"You mean, she's not a Potter anymore? How does that work?"
"Magic, Siri. And your blood. I imagine any traces of the Potter left her," Bella mused.
"Huh..." Sirius frowned, "Then why would..."
His eyes widened in realization.
"Bella... do you think Dumbledore did it on purpose? To weaken her? To ensure she wasn't a threat? To control her?"
Bella frowned, "I don't see why he would, unless there's something else about her that made him wary. There've been prodigies of Magic like that before, after all."
Sirius swallowed his panic as he recalled a discussion he had with Regulus, "She's the Black Heiress, and...she was born on the seventh of July... '77."
Bellatrix paused at that and her eyes gained a calculative gleam, "That would do it... There's far more to numbers and dates than we could ever know, Siri."
"The bastard," Sirius whispered as he clenched his fist and closed his eyes. He remained stewing in his rage and desire for vengeance and longing for his daughter before he felt thin arms enveloping him.
He exhaled and returned the embrace as he shed a tear.
The unwelcome chill visited again.
"A-Andi.. Don't leave... please..." Bella shivered in the corner as the Dementors feasted. Without thinking, Sirius became Padfoot and roared, the chill of the Dementors he had always felt faded as they gave him a wide berth.
They eventually decided to leave. Once gone, he transformed back and embraced Bella, "It's okay, I'm here."
"You're an Animagus," Bella said. Her lips were dry and black circles began to emerge beneath her eyes. She was a far cry from the beautiful woman who had entered the prison. But then, Sirius probably looked worse for wear too.
"Yeah. A Grim," he said as he transformed and walked over and curled up beside her.
Bellatrix stroked his soft fur for a while in contemplation, "You could probably escape this place."
Padfoot stilled as he turned his head towards her.
"You're obviously unregistered. Probably the only smart thing you did."
At that comment, Padfoot whined in indignation.
Bellatrix giggled, "They have cells for Animagi Siri, and if they didn't know you were one, they'd never put you there," she continued running her fingers through his fur and he relaxed, "You want to see your daughter, no?"
Padfoot whimpered.
"Then go," She whispered.
Padfoot stilled, then slowly transformed back. Sirius sat, his eyes inches away from Bella's.
"Go Siri," She said again, and Sirius was taken back to when they were children. As they played and laughed whenever they were out of sight of their parents. Before he left. Before he ran away...
Him, Bella, Reg, Andi, Cissy...
He looked into her eyes and saw all of her pain and sadness, and the sacrifice the incredible woman made for her family. And the one that she was making now.
"Not yet," Sirius said softly.
"You have a daughter to care for," Bella's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not running away from my family again. There's no way I'd be able to get her on my own. I'd rather have you help me."
"In case you haven't noticed, genius, I can't leave," She frowned, the beginning of anger smoldering in her eyes.
"Then I'll teach you. You were the most brilliant witch at school, weren't you?"
"Who knows how long that will take? And there's no guarantee my form will be small enough."
"As long as it takes," he said stubbornly, "...And there's no other form you could take," he continued with a quirk of his lip.
"And what's that?" She said with irritation on her brows, her arms crossed over her chest.
"A snake, of course," Sirius said with conviction and respect.
Bella chuckled slightly, "You're choosing to stay for Merlin knows how long in Azkaban for me? When you could just go?"
Sirius directed his eyes into hers, their faces inches away, and he saw her disbelief and relief and guilt.
"Toujours Pur, Dear Bella," he whispered as he closed the gap between them after asking for permission with his eyes.
Never in a million years did Sirius think he would ever fall in love with his seemingly deranged cousin. He had never fallen in love before, never knew what it was like to hold another woman in such high esteem. Yes, he was a flirt, but he had never understood love the way others did. Perhaps it was his upbringing, or perhaps it was something else.
He knew it was probably wrong to feel the way he did for her. But in all honesty, he just did not care. They were in Azkaban, the Dementors frequently feasting on anything of theirs that was positive and happy, and they only had each other between the forsaken prison walls. Sirius thought that allowed them both some happiness, cousin or not.
Their lips were dry, the stone was cold, the ceiling was dripping with water from yesterday's rainfall, the Dementors stalked the dark corridors, and the wind howled between the cracks.
But there, in that moment, Sirius somehow felt a happiness and fulfilment he had never felt before.
Once he was reunited with his daughter, his life would be as close to perfect as possible.
END FLASHBACK
Sirius transformed back into his human form and embraced Bella, as he usually did after the Dementors decided to visit. They were far less frequent now, something the both of them suspected had to do with his form as a Grim, but no less unpleasant.
"How far along are you?" He asked softly.
"Just the head left," Came the reply.
"Almost there then," he said.
Bella nodded in his chest, still shivering from the remnants of the chill, "almost there."
Dear Andromeda,
I would like to cordially invite you and your family to a meeting with myself at your earliest convenience. To assure you, I have bound a magical oath within the parchment that neither I nor my family will harm you during the duration of the meeting. I hope to see you soon.
Toujours Pur,
Heather Nigellus Black, Head of House.
Heather set her quill on her desk as she carefully folded the letter in an envelope which she sealed with her ring. She exhaled slightly before calling out.
"Kreacher!"
Pop.
"Take this letter to the Owlery. The recipient is Andromeda Tonks," she said.
Kreacher hesitantly took the letter from her, pausing slightly as he did so.
"Kreacher," Heather said as she met him at eye level. She was taller than the elf so she bent her knees slightly.
"Yes Mistress?" The elf asked.
"Our family deserves respect. And that means everyone in our family. Regulus would agree with me," she said, allowing the elf to see her determined eyes.
Kreacher nodded, "Of course, Lady Black," and with that, he popped away.
Heather shook her head slightly, knowing it would take more effort on her part to ease the conditioning the elf had living with Sirius' mother for a long time. She had thought that with uncle Reg with him, it would not have been a problem, but clearly Walburga did more damage than she thought.
She sighed again as she waved her hand, calling upon her magic with a smile. The time manifested itself, and she hurried to get herself ready for the day.
Her days since her seventh birthday had been full of training. In the mornings, she was made to run around the castle grounds, and after breakfast, she had lessons with Arcturus on politics, etiquette, and the Wizengamot, all of which she absorbed without issue.
It was after lunch that the most grueling part of the day began with aunt Cassie. On her birthday, she passed her a book titled, 'Mind Arts: A Compendium' and told her to read the entire thing. After she did so, Aunt Cassie was merciless. She tested and probed her mental defenses without letting up in the slightest. Heather always had the worst headaches before she went to sleep every night, but the progress she had made was undeniable, and she felt her thoughts become more streamlined, and her ability to absorb information and retain it increased by leaps and bounds.
It helped that she knew the importance and purpose for such training. Cassie wanted her to become a proficient Occlumens, not only to protect her mind, but also have a higher control of her magic and intent when it was time for her to practice the Dark Arts and the Family Magic.
In her free time, Heather would browse the library, looking for instruction on basic magic, wondering if she could perform some of it without a wand. She knew powerful wizards and witches could do such things, but other than apparating and causing others pain and producing an orb of light, she had not experimented further. That was something she would improve upon, especially since aunt Cassie refused to get her a wand until she was the best she could be at the Mind Arts.
Needless to say, her days since then were equal parts tiring as they were fulfilling. She knew she had to plan meticulously to get her family members out of Azkaban, out of unwanted marriages, and for vengeance against those who had betrayed her.
Andromeda sighed as she leaned back in her couch. Work at the law firm was equal parts fulfilling as it was stressful, especially with having to take care of an energetic and rambunctious little metamorph.
CRASH!
"Ow! who put this bloody desk here?" A girl's voice rang out.
"DORA! LANGUAGE!" Andromeda called out as she sighed and walked over to the next room where she saw her daughter sprawled across the floor, her hair turning many different colors in the span of a second as she scowled at the offending desk.
"Leave the desk alone Dora," Andromeda said tiredly before she picked the little girl off the floor.
"Hmph! Bloody desk deserves it," she said petulantly before remembering something, "There's a letter for you mum," she said as she reached for the belt of her jeans and produced a crinkled letter.
Andromeda stared up at the ceiling, hoping that someone could help deal with her troublesome little girl, before taking the crumpled letter with a huff of amusement. No one ever told her being a mother was this diffi-
She blinked as she noted the emblem on the seal of the letter before turning it over again. Sure enough, it was written there, in elegant script.
To Andromeda.
Yep, that was her name. She flipped it over once more to see the seal. That was indeed the seal of the Head of House. Andromeda debated with herself for a moment, wondering if she should ignore the missive. Eventually, she caved, wondering what her estranged family wanted with her.
She waved her wand around the letter, searching for any trick or trap. She wouldn't put it past her family for this to be a discreet assassination attempt. But other than some benign magic, she couldn't discern a thing.
Carefully, she opened it and unfolded the parchment within.
The words made sense, but together, she could not make sense of them. Her eyes scanned the words again, letting her mind slowly catch up to the fact that it was a genuine letter from, it seemed, the new Head of House.
Andromeda thought the only heir to the House would be Narcissa's son, but clearly there was another that no one knew about. She was incredibly curious about the whole thing, and decided to discuss it with Ted before she wrote a response.