Chapter 4
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place (Cont'd)
Alexis stared, wide-eyed, at the expansive tapestry of the Black Family tree that hung in the drawing room. It was like a work of art. The tapestry covered the entire length of the wall, its woven fabric vibrating with familial magic that her own magical core recognized. Inexplicably, the tapestry seemed to draw her in. Gold threads wrapped around tree branches connecting family members from as far back as the Middle Ages. Bold words embroidered at the very top of the tapestry read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black 'Toujours Pur.'
“Toujours Pur…” Alexis looked down at her wrist, where the silver bracelet she had used as a portkey earlier still sat. She rotated the cool metal around her wrist until the engraving faced her. “Always Pure. Is that the Black family motto?”
Sirius grimaced while leaning against the doorframe, having not moved since he had brought her to the drawing room. “It is.”
His lack of enthusiasm and two-word response indicated that he was not a fan of the motto, and it seemed unlikely to Alexis that he would elaborate at that moment. She wondered what ‘Always Pure’ actually meant to the Black family.
Instead of prodding, she decided to take a closer look at the tapestry. She began at the base of the tree and followed the golden embroidery-wrapped branches from family to family to family. “So many generations,” she commented as she looked at Sirius and then back at the fabric. Her fingers hovered above the embroidery, the gold threads glinting brightly. “Do you feel that? That pulse of familial magic?” she asked him.
“I suppose I do, though I never really thought anything of it.” He stayed leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. “Familial magic is intertwined in every floorboard and wall of this house.”
She understood what he meant and brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen into her face behind her shoulder. She had read about familial magic and how homes within magical families seemed to absorb the magical signatures of their inhabitants over time. She continued taking in the tapestry.
Throughout the embroidered fabric were images of each family member by birth, with their names and dates featured inside a ribbon. Those married into the family did not have an image, but their names were inside a ribbon intertwined with those of their spouses. As the images morphed from painted portraits to almost vivid, realistic photographs as the years came into more modern times, Alexis noticed that a few of the images were skulls, and others were scorched-burnt marks where their images had once appeared.
“That’s odd,” she said as she put some space between herself and the tapestry. She glanced around for her father and noticed that he had moved from his spot in the doorframe to the tapestry, where he stood unmoving, looking intently at a scorched mark and a skull.
She made her way over and stood next to him. Glancing at the two images he was focused on, she noticed that the skull was labeled as ‘Regulus’ and the scorched mark as 'Sirius.' Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Why was her father a scorch mark on the family tapestry? And who was Regulus?
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, still looking at the two images of her father and Regulus on the tapestry.
Sirius let out a sigh and rubbed his tattooed hands down his face. “I haven’t been in this room in so long, honestly. I had Moony help clean it out because I couldn’t—” his gravelly voice abruptly stopped as he ran a hand through his hair.
There was a long pause as Alexis continued to look at her father, her mind wandering. Did the Greengrass family have a tapestry, too? Was her mother a scorched mark on that one as well?
“Here, let’s sit.” Sirius gestured to the upholstered couch in the middle of the room, which was situated in front of a mahogany fireplace. The fireplace was flanked by two tall French windows, both with the curtains drawn.
She sat down on the couch, her back ramrod straight. Her hands pressed into the cushion on either side of her lap as she waited for him to continue. Sirius took the seat next to hers, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his legs.
“‘Toujours Pur’… It’s been the Black family motto dating back to the Middle Ages when our family emigrated from France to England. I don’t quite know the story behind it, though I probably should. Never cared for that sort of thing.” Sirius waved a dismissive hand. “Our family, the Black family, has a rather dark history. They have always been in favor of pure-blood supremacy—getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge.”
She could tell by his tone that he thought the ideals were nonsense. “And you don’t agree?”
“Not in the slightest. Haven’t since my Hogwarts days.”
Blood purity and pure-blood supremacy were ideals her mother never supported, nor did her friends at Ilvermorny. While there were still some magical families who believed in the segregation of No-Majes from the American Wizarding World, they were exceedingly rare.
“Is that why you’re a scorch mark on the tapestry?” she asked. She assumed that if all the Blacks usually held those beliefs, his differences could have earned him a scorch mark, though she thought it was rather dramatic.
Sirius nodded his head. “Exactly. You see, when I was your age, I fled this townhome, leaving behind my family and everything I knew.” His grey eyes shone a little sadly as he spoke. “Because of my actions, my family disowned me, and my mother blasted me off the family tree.” He paused and looked at the tapestry again before giving her a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, since I was disowned, love, your name won’t show on the tapestry.”
Alexis felt a surprising twinge of disappointment at the realization that her image would never be on the tapestry. It seemed like a silly and frivolous feeling, especially since she had no connection to the Black family and had never interacted with them or even known of their existence until she learned about her father. But it was still there. She hid her disappointment with a tight smile.
“So, all the blasted images are family members who chose a different path than what was expected? Or they weren’t up to the family’s standards?” She did not need her father to confirm what she innately knew. She doubted that the family tree documented squibs and half-bloods either. Her earlier disappointment was replaced with a sense of pride, knowing that her father had defied his family's archaic beliefs and left it all behind. And if he had not left, who knows if she would have come into existence.
Alexis stood up and walked around the couch to take a closer look at the tapestry. As her gaze moved from name to name, she noticed a pattern. Many of the names were derived from stars or constellations: Arcturus, Pollux, Orion, Cygnus, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Draco, Cassiopeia, Regulus, and Sirius.
“My middle name is Lyra,” she said quietly, almost to herself. She felt the pain she tried so hard to control begin to seep out of her patched-up heart. She had thought her mother’s love for the constellations and stars was just something that fascinated her mother, not something that was tied to her father and his family. “My mother must have known.”
She had not realized that Sirius had stood up from the couch, sensing the change in her emotions, and joined her at the tapestry. He cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. The comforting gesture startled her, but she did not pull away.
“Your mother knew, yes.” His voice was gentle, and it helped soothe the ache that had started spreading in her chest. “Your mother and I… well, I would have named you after Stevie Nicks or Patti Smith.” He chuckled for a moment and then continued. “During some of my most challenging days at Hogwarts during my Fifth Year, when I felt trapped by my family's expectations, I would escape to the Astronomy Tower. Your mum always found me there. She would sit with me for hours, keeping me company and talking about everything under the moon. It was during those moments that I taught her about the constellations and stars—what they meant to my family, what they meant to me.” He paused and tapped his scorch mark with the tip of his finger. “I often hated the stars because they reminded me of the cage I had been trapped in as the heir to House Black. It's an isolating spot to be in. Yet looking out into the night sky with her in the Astronomy Tower felt almost freeing.”
She listened intently as her father spoke. She tried picturing her parents sitting high up in an Astronomy Tower, legs dangling over the ledge. Maybe that’s where they had fallen in love.
“So, while I was brash and quick to dismiss the importance of certain traditions—such as naming our family members after the stars—your mum was thoughtful and intuitive. She understood that some traditions were worth preserving, and I am extremely glad that she did.” Sirius slowly turned her to face him and rested both of his hands on her shoulder, giving her a supportive smile.
Memories flooded back of lying in her mother's lap and listening to stories about the constellations. The ache in Alexis’ chest grew stronger as she realized that the stories she heard as a child were actually all of Sirius’ stories that her mother had experienced with her father years ago in the Astronomy Tower.
“I miss her,” she whispered as she stared at a random spot on the tapestry, blinking back tears. She had been so strong, her emotions so controlled up to that point.
Sirius squeezed her shoulders one more time before dropping his hands to his sides and clearing his throat. “I miss her, too.”
Alexis did not want to break down in front of her father, so she decided to quickly change the subject. “I could go for that cup of tea now.” She quickly brushed a finger under her eyes, knowing that her mascara was probably running, and sniffed.
“Alright, love.” He stepped away from the tapestry and gestured for her to follow him.
She took one more glance at the tapestry, still feeling the familial magic pulsing around it, before closing the door and following him back into the hallway, down a narrow stairwell, and into the kitchen.
Tea was arranged on the long wooden table that occupied the center of the narrow kitchen. On her right was a stove and fireplace for cooking, while on her left stood a cabinet filled with plates, cups, and saucers. The room seemed to stretch the entire length of the townhome. The space was clean and organized, and seeing Tippy and Kreacher working together brought a smile to her face.
“Mistress Alexis! Come sit.” Tippy reached for Alexis’ hand and brought her to the table, sliding out a chair with a snap of her fingers. Kreacher still looked exasperated by Tippy’s overtly casual relationship with her. “Tippy brewed Earl Grey, your favorite. And Tippy made your favorite cinnamon chip cookies.”
“Thank you, Tippy. That was thoughtful of you.” She sat in the wooden chair and reached for the pot of tea.
“Allow me.” Sirius slid into the chair closest to hers, stretching his legs under the table. He poured two cups of tea and pushed one toward her.
She picked up the sugar bowl from a small tray to her side, adjusting her tea to her preferred taste. “Thank you.”
Sirius watched her closely as she prepared her drink. “We both seem to enjoy our tea a little sweeter,” he said, dropping two scoops of sugar into his cup, mirroring her actions. It must have been a lot for him to take in, getting to know someone he had just met who was also his child and potentially could have the same tastes and habits as him.
The pair sipped their tea in relative silence for a minute or so, and she decided that the silence was a little uncomfortable but nothing unexpected.
She reached for a cinnamon chip cookie, and as she took a bite, the image of Regulus’ skull came into her mind. After she finished her bite, she set the biscuit down on a small plate and looked at her father. “Who is Regulus?” she cautiously asked. “I had meant to ask in the drawing room, but with talk of my mom…” her voice trailed off.
Sirius let out a long, audible breath at her question. He resituated himself in the wooden chair and, leaning back, crossed his ankle over his knee. “Regulus was my younger brother—your uncle.”
“I had an uncle?” she breathed. She knew she had an uncle on her mother’s side, but she had no idea she also had an uncle on her father’s side. “What happened to him?” The skull had stood out, stark white against the colors of the tapestry.
Her father hesitated for a moment. “Regulus—Reggie, your uncle, chose to walk a dark path, Alexis.” He swallowed some tea and then set the cup down. She could tell that he was steadying himself before he continued. “How much do you know about the First Wizarding War here in Britain?”
“Barely anything,” she admitted. “Mother mentioned that she fled the war to raise me, but that was it. We never spoke about it in school either.” She could see her father working out what she had said in his mind.
“I won’t go into great detail now, but there was a Dark Wizard who came into power before you were born. He was power-hungry and wanted to take over Wizarding Britain and, eventually, the world. He gathered many followers who supported his pure-blood agenda, including most of our family—my brother, your uncle included. His followers were called Death Eaters, and Reggie joined them at just sixteen. From what I gathered, Reggie was killed before he reached his eighteenth birthday. I think the skull is for those who died at a young age or those who unwillingly lost their lives.”
She could hear the sadness in her father’s tone as his face morphed into disappointment as he spoke about her uncle. He had a faraway look in his gaze. She wondered if her uncle’s room was on the topmost level, the one she had been forbidden to enter.
A reply was formulating in her mind when heavy footsteps coming down the stairwell interrupted her thoughts.
A very tall, lean man wearing a worn cardigan, faded scars across his face, and sandy-brown hair filled with grey streaks stepped into the kitchen with a contemplative look. He paused as he noticed her and Sirius sitting at the table. “Oh, hello,” he said in a warm, calm voice.
As the man walked past the house-elves at the stove, Kreacher glared at him and spat out in a low drawl, “Filthy half-breed.”
Alexis’ eyes widened at Kreacher’s admonishment. She looked apologetically at the man and saw that her father was seething at Kreacher’s remarks.
Sirius was about to speak when the man waved off the comment and leaned over, gently squeezing her father’s shoulder. “He doesn’t know any better, Padfoot.” He extended his hand toward Alexis, offering a kind smile that lit up his brown eyes. “Remus. Remus Lupin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”