The Black Lion

The Black Lion 

Chapter 2

“ That’s my great uncle Marius, some say he was a squib, but who the hell knows with my deranged family.” slurs Sirius who was on his fifth drink for the night.

Glancing over at him Hermione points at another scorch on the tapestry. She was intrigued by the Black family. It was clear they were powerful, but even clearer was their priority: the family’s reputation over the individuals within it. It seems that any small inconvenience to the family reputation could get you disowned and scorched off the tapestry. Sirius was living proof of this.

‘How sad.’ she thought, feeling a twinge of empathy for a man trapped by bloodlines.

Seeing her caught in her thoughts Sirius continues never taking his eye off the tapestry. 

“Oh, that’s Aunt Cedrella, she and my mother used to be close from what I heard from Uncle Cygnus.  Unfortunately, she decided to fall in love with a blood traitor. He might have been a pureblood but he came from a long line of blood traitors, When they married she was scorched right off. Mother never mentioned her. If asked, she only had one sibling after that. Just like her sister she acted like I didn’t exist after I ran away. To her and my father they only had one son.” he says bitterly, his eyes on his scorched mark.

‘Family didn’t matter to them, only blood ever did.’ he thought.

“Who was the blood traitor she married?” she asks him. She could see the turmoil in his eyes. The resentment was heavy behind them. The resentment was heavily laced in his voice when he talked about his family. Even though she knows he won’t say it she could tell he felt abandoned by his family. He might have hated them and their beliefs but they were his family.

“Weasley. Septimus, I think,” he said, his voice rough from firewhiskey, pulling her back to the moment.

Humming, softly letting him know that she did hear his response. She’s tired of hearing that name everywhere she looks.

“Enough talking about crazy families. What should we do with it? Burn it, that's my vote. That’ll teach those bloody wankers” he exclaims. 

“Honestly, Siri, we should restore it. Let’s fix the burn marks. I think that's a bigger fuck you than burning it.” she smiles at him as she looks at the family tree before her. Her eyes kept darting back to one name, the name that gnawed at her conscience: Regulus Black.

When they found the note from someone named R.A.B. The three of them voted on whether they should tell Sirius about his brother however she was out-voted in the end. They never told him that his brother defected. Her mind kept going back to that night.

“It will only make him more depressed. Why would we even tell him? It’s for the best of the war he doesn’t know right now. Maybe we can tell him later” says Harry

“He’s right, Herm,” Ron said, his voice low, unable to meet her gaze.“They weren’t even that close when Regulus died.” 

Hermione felt her heart sink at his words, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“He deserves to know. You’d want to know if the tables were turned, Ron,” her voice rising with desperation, seeking any sign of understanding from them. They have been fighting about this for days.

“We’re at war!” Harry cut in sharply.  

“I don’t have time to worry about Sirius and his family drama! Get over it, Hermione. I’m the one in charge of this. I don't want to talk about it anymore. We need Sirius to focus on other things.” his voice was sharp leaving no room for further discussion on the subject.

Looking down, Hermione nodded, whispering softly, “We will tell him after right? I would hate for him to not know his brother died while doing something good.”

Harry turned on his heel and walked out, the door slamming behind him, leaving Hermione with a hollow sense of dread.

“It isn’t fair,” she whispered, looking at the door. “He should know his brother wasn’t like them.”

Ron's hands clasp around her shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze before he responds,  “Sometimes life isn’t fair Herm, you’ll learn that sooner than later.”

Shaking her head to get out of her thoughts she looks around the room, her eyes immediately going to the name again. Regulus Black.  

‘Harry and Ron aren’t here to dismiss my concerns anymore. I can’t let this go. He deserves to know the truth,’ she resolved, biting her lip as she turned her attention back to Sirius.

“Sirius, I have something to tell you. It’s… very important,” Hermione said, her voice wavering slightly as she stepped closer to the tapestry.

Sirius paused, his brow furrowing. The look on her face told him enough, he wasn’t going to like whatever came next.

“What is it, little lion?” he asked, rocking on the balls of his feet, impatience clear in his posture.

“Regulus…” Hermione hesitated, feeling the weight of her words. “I know you believed he followed your family blindly, but he didn’t. He defected, Sirius. He found one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes. He tried to destroy it… but he didn’t make it. He died trying.” She took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“No, Hermione.” His voice wavered as if daring to crack under the weight of his own words. “Regulus followed that bastard and my family… faithfully. Blindly. That’s all there is to it.” He poured another drink, but his hand trembled so violently that the glass clinked against the bottle.

She shook her head, knowing he was in denial. Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating. Hermione didn’t push further. She knew Sirius well enough to let the truth sink in on its own. He stared at her, waiting for more, but there was nothing else to say. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, a part of him knew Hermione wouldn’t lie to him, not about something like this.

His hand trembled as he reached for another drink, but the bottle was empty. With a growl of frustration, he hurled it across the room, the glass shattering against the wall. Then came the scream raw, guttural, shaking the room.

Hermione flinched slightly but didn’t move from where she stood, pressed against the tapestry. She didn’t know how to comfort him, and she suspected that he wouldn’t want her to. 

‘He needs to process this on his own.’ she thought with a heavy heart.

As Sirius continued his rampage, throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs, Hermione slowly slid down the wall, sitting with her back against it. She watched him, her eyes distant, tuning out the chaos around her. A flicker of warmth pulsed against her back, so subtle Hermione thought she imagined it. More glass shattered, and she glanced at him, her frustration finally boiling over.

“Sirius!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise.

They locked eyes, glaring at each other, the tapestry behind her started to glow a soft, pulsating gold light that grew brighter and brighter. It seemed to have a heartbeat, the glow intensifying with each pulse. A flicker of warmth pulsed against her back again, stronger this time, it kept getting hotter and hotter.

Sirius stopped mid-rant, his eyes widening in confusion as the entire room was bathed in golden light. Hermione barely had time to process what was happening before the tapestry pulsed once more, and then erupted in a blinding gold light. The room warped around them, the air humming with a power that pressed against their skin like the very fabric of time was being stretched thin. For a brief second, everything felt weightless—disconnected—before it all snapped back with a deafening crack, and darkness swallowed them.