Englishman in the Encanto

After the long talk, Bruno pulled Sirius to his feet and offered to take him and Remus on a walk around the Encanto to show them the place, but it was clearly an excuse.

Remus said he was a little tired so he would go see that Buckbeak was alright and then rest for a little while. Bruno thought he was trying to subtly give him and Sirius some space, but when Remus mentioned something he said Muggles called ‘jet lag’ and the Madrigals were confused, it spoke to his exhaustion that he didn’t even notice. He was later found by Félix spread out on his stomach on the bed they’d assigned to him, his mouth open as he slept soundly.

Nevertheless, Julieta followed his example of leaving Bruno and Sirius alone and took her chance to gather her husband and daughters into the room the women had been assigned by the priest to stay in.

Pepa and Félix did the same and herded their children in the vicary’s living room and asked them if there was something they wanted to add to the earlier discussion.

Dolores had said her piece earlier, and Antonio didn’t have much to say: luckily, being so young, he’d been spared much of the troubles and burdens of his family, so he was merely upset on behalf of Mirabel and Bruno and said so with the blunt innocence of a child.

Camilo, on the other hand, confessed that Sirius had been right and that while he loved helping out with his gift and making people smile, it was tiring when all people wanted him to do was shift into other people. It was exhausting mentally and physically, since shapeshifting took a lot of energy out of him and made him hungry. He didn’t appreciate being berated for eating a lot when he did so to gather his strength, since he spent most of his time shifted.

Camilo expressed how he didn’t like that his own parents had taken him for a fool by alimenting his fears and misconceptions instead of just telling him about his uncle. He snapped at his sister when she started to agree with him against their parents, saying that even if he understood that she’d kept Bruno’s secret, she hadn’t shown that much love to Bruno either despite her claims of affection for their uncle since she’d never bothered to at least correct him when he ran his mouth.

By that point, Antonio was quite bored with it all and still exhausted, so Camilo and Dolores told their parents they would stay with him if they wanted a little time to themselves.
Félix and Pepa were glad for the chance and left them around the same time as Julieta and Agustín left their daughters to speak among themselves. They all found themselves in the hallway, and, still reeling from the revelations and Sirius’s harsh words to them all, they decided to go outside for a walk too, perhaps see if they could take a look at Casita’s ruins.

They walked in silence for a short while, but it wasn’t something any of the Madrigals were used to – except Bruno and Dolores. Bruno kept to himself, and Dolores revelled in the silence whenever she had the chance to experience it, which wasn’t that much considering her gift.

Julieta had said her piece and Agustín had never shied away from voicing his opinions, though he’d never been taken seriously. He was dying to speak his mind to Pepa and Félix because he’d never approved their behaviour toward Bruno: even if he wanted to ignore the countless nights he’d spent trying to console his wife (spoiler alert, he didn’t want to ignore those), he’d always liked Bruno and felt honoured to have taken the time to get to know him.

Bruno was actually a pretty funny guy to hang around with when you got past his understandably nervous and shy demeanour.

Agustín had told Félix multiple times that he should have made more of an effort with their brother-in-law and that it wouldn’t be good for Pepa in the long run for her husband to just never address her broken relationship with her brother.

“I owe you all an apology, I think.”

Félix had stopped long enough that the other three, still caught up in their thoughts, had to turn to look at him. He glanced up to see them all staring at him, but he spoke to Pepa first, “Mi vida, whatever part I had in straining your relationship with your brother, perdoname, por favor. I really didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.”

She smiled, “I know, Félix, but it’s not your fault, I distanced myself from Bruno long before you. And I don’t know how much Bruno has changed in these ten years, but he didn’t seem that angry with you.”

“Well, Sirius had to tell him that he’s entitled to his anger, so I’d say he hasn’t changed that much,” said Agustín, his hand on Julieta’s shoulder, “He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, that man.”

Julieta heaved a deep sigh, “Ay, Bruno – he’s been hurt so many times and was never angry. I doubt he’ll be holding a grudge if he gets an honest to God apology. You owe him that.”

“I do,” said Pepa.

“We both do,” said Félix, squeezing his wife’s hand, “I truly didn’t know he was upset with me. I mean, I tried when Pepa and I were first together, he never seemed interested in hanging out –”

“Can you blame him, Félix?” Agustín asked, “When people either spoke ill of him or just shunned him – what was he supposed to do? Come and keep to the sidelines while everyone else had fun? I invited him to my bachelor party, and he didn’t come, he told me he didn’t want to bring the mood down. He probably thought that I was inviting him out of obligation rather than actually wanting him around. And he might have thought you took it personally when you –” he paused and sighed, pushing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, “When we have never even invited him out for a guy’s night out.”

“Ay,” Félix sighed, “We messed up big time, didn’t we?”

Pepa squeezed his arm, pressing against him for comfort – for him or for herself? Probably both, “We did too,” she glanced at her sister, who nodded, “Once we got friends and boyfriends, it was easier to go without him.”

“In all fairness, Pepa,” said Agustín, “It’s not like you had much time for friends either, either of you.”

“That’s true,” Pepa agreed, “But he’s our brother, our triplet, and we didn’t try that hard to include him. He said no when we tried but we never insisted.”

“I never even noticed that he didn’t have any friends,” Julieta said, “Imagine how lonely it must have been for him. He was always there for us and the children. And do you know when I noticed that we never even tried to introduce him to our friends? When I was speaking with Sirius at Antonio’s ceremony.”

“When –”

Julieta smiled at her husband, “Yes, amor, when you thought he was hitting on me.”

Agustín smiled sheepishly, “I couldn’t have been more wrong about that, huh?”

“Mh!” Julieta grinned.

“Hitting on you?” Pepa asked, surprised, “Sirius?”

“No, he wasn’t really, he was just comforting me –”

Pepa and Félix were staring at them, and Julieta hesitated, knowing that it wasn’t fair for her sister and her brother-in-law not to know about such a big part of Bruno’s life.
Sirius had already snapped at them for a handful of comments, and they wanted to make it up to Bruno, but if they didn’t know they might end up saying something that hurt Bruno and made Sirius fly off the handle. Julieta thought she’d grown to know him a bit these days and she’d seen that even in those instances in which he’d made his opinion known, he’d actually been trying to suppress his rage. He obviously had a very rambunctious and tumultuous personality. Sirius was rebellious in a way no one in her family was.
Still, Julieta shared a look with her husband, did they have the right to tell something so personal about Bruno without him knowing?

A bark snapped her out of her thoughts.

In the light of the sunset, they all turned to see Sirius and Bruno walking past them, having completely missed them.

Bruno was leading the way, walking on the edge of a wall, waving with his free hand and talking animatedly, a bright smile on his face.

They were far enough that Pepa, Julieta, Félix and Agustín could hear their voices but couldn’t understand what they were saying.

They stared as Bruno kept speaking fast, and Sirius was just behind him, his teeth very visible thanks to the broad smile on his face, cocking his head as he followed whatever Bruno was talking about. Then he laughed, a booming laugh that made their four spectators feel the amusement themselves, and see that the sound they’d heard hadn’t been, in fact, a bark, but Sirius laughing.

When Bruno arrived at the end of the wall, he made a big show of flamboyantly jumping down with an agility they didn’t know he had.

Julieta was happy to witness the sweet care with which Sirius accosted her brother the moment he’d jumped down from the wall and pressed him against the bricks to claim his lips as if they were the most precious gift in the world.

Julieta knew that feeling of being alone in the world with your other half, and she knew Pepa knew that feeling too because at that moment, Bruno’s face was exactly like Pepa’s when Félix wooed her.

“What the –?”

Her heart dropped when Pepa stepped forward, towards her brother and his lover.

“Pepa, wait!”

With Félix gaping in shock behind them, Julieta and Agustín followed after her as she closed the distance between them and Bruno and Sirius. They managed to grasp her arm a moment before she opened her mouth and caught Sirius and Bruno’s attention.

*

Pepa gaped, her eyes as wide as saucers as Bruno – still unaware of his sisters and brothers-in-law – leaned into the hand Sirius had cupped his cheek with and responded to the kiss, throwing his arms around Sirius’s neck and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

They stayed like that for a moment longer, then Sirius said something that made Bruno tighten his grip on him, leaning his head on his shoulder and laughing out loud in a way Julieta hadn’t heard in many years, a way that made him resemble Pepa even more, and they walked on, Bruno pulling Sirius along with a sprint in his step worthy of Mirabel.
Julieta waited for them to walk a little more down the road, made sure that they couldn’t hear them, then approached her still stunned sister.

“Pepa!” Julieta started, glancing behind her at Félix, who was still gaping, and Agustín, who looked back at her not really knowing what to do with himself, “Pepa, please, don’t make a scene. Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be!”

“Que?” Pepa turned to her, confused, “You knew about this?”

Julieta hesitated and swallowed the lump in her throat, “I –” she sighed, “You know when Sirius broke that glass at breakfast yesterday? He – Bruno was in his room, he was already planning to come back, Sirius convinced him that it wasn’t good for him to just stay in the walls.”

“So, you knew he was coming back all along and you didn’t say anything?”

Julieta frowned, “And when would have I told you, while the house was falling down? You know that you’d have just thundered if anyone dared to even mention him! You did it to Mirabel!” she took a deep breath to calm down, wondering if all her frustration was coming out now just because Mirabel had finally broken the dam of the family’s issues, bringing them all to life, “Anyway, yes, they're together, they told me then. Pepa, please, don't make it difficult for him, he deserves to be happy.”

“He's – Bruno – with a man!”

“I was surprised too, but look,” reasoned Julieta, grabbing her arm and nodding towards the two men, “Look at how happy he is now.”

Pepa looked from Julieta to Bruno, who, still very much unaware of their presence, had resumed talking to Sirius, pulling him along excitedly.

Sirius caught up with him and said something, making Bruno grin widely and push Sirius away good-naturedly, only for Sirius to catch his hand at the last moment, pull him back and throw his arm around his shoulders. To anyone who hadn’t just witnessed them kiss, it would seem a couple of friends having fun together, but Julieta, her sister and their husbands could see how bright Bruno’s smile was.

Pepa stopped moving and stood there, cocking her head to the side as she took in the scene.

That laugh… if Pepa hadn’t just heard Sirius’s bark-like laugh, she would have thought he’d been the one laughing, so foreign the sound of her brother’s laugh was to her. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so naturally and instead of chuckling nervously.

Somehow, seeing him with Sirius made it even clearer how miserable, lonely, shy and quiet he’d grown over the years. Pepa had never paused to wonder about it, as bitter as she’d been about her wedding and Dolores’s prophecy. Pepa knew she hadn’t wanted to be tainted by her brother’s reputation and had distanced herself from him long before the wedding incident; she'd always hated how he would just go on and be so quirky, when she worked so hard every day to keep her emotions in check.

“Do you remember how happy he was around the time Mirabel and Camilo were born?” Julieta asked softly, “That’s when they first met.”

Pepa remembered.

Even with her sour relationship with her brother, no one could have missed the broad smiles, the dreamy looks, the humming (that song they didn’t know about but still knew by heart with how much Bruno had whistled it) and especially the pulling the women of the family for random bouts of dancing worthy of Félix (even their mother and Pepa herself, but mostly Julieta and the girls, who’d laughed and laughed at their uncle’s silly antics). It had been infectious, even for Pepa, who rarely spoke with him.

Pepa also remembered how sudden it was when it stopped. Not even twenty-four hours passed between the bright smiles and Bruno vanishing behind his door, refusing food for so long that Julieta had gone and checked if he was sick.

It had taken Isabela and Dolores taking the initiative and venturing in his room with a bouquet of flowers for him to eventually return downstairs to his armchair, so gaunt and tired that even their mother hadn’t said anything, just to tell stories to his eager nieces (Luisa had immediately claimed her spot in his lap).

“I remember,” Félix said, then elbowed his brother-in-law, “Just after Camilo and Mirabel were born, I honestly thought he'd lost his mind. Remember the random advice?”

Julieta and Pepa hadn’t been privy to that particular moment, but Agustín remembered.

From sudden happiness to sudden misery, Bruno had been found more than once sprawled on a lawn chair in the garden staring wistfully in the distance at sunset and Agustín and Félix had tried to see what was wrong, only to be regaled with reminders of always cherishing their wives and loved ones.

Both men had found it random and redundant, because they loved their wives very much and didn’t need their bachelor brother-in-law telling them about loving their families. Agustín now felt bad about thinking what would Bruno know about loving a spouse when he was always isolating himself (the bitter thought of an exhausted parent to newborn Mirabel). Still, he’d kept Bruno’s advice in mind like the warning of his wife’s loving brother. It was so evident now that Bruno had been trying to warn them about the torturous pain of having your heart broken. How could they not see the hollow eyes for the heartbreak that they were?

Bruno had eventually gone back to a routine, but clearly only for the sake of the children. Even in the rare cases in which he joined them, Julieta and Pepa both noticed he would avoid them, especially when Félix and Agustín were there, which was all the time. His eyes would grow particularly hopeless and glassy whenever their mother would nag him about settling down and finding someone for himself.

That erratic behaviour didn’t look as erratic and mysterious anymore, now that they knew what caused it.

“Was he –” Pepa frowned in confusion, her eyes still on Bruno and Sirius, who had settled on the edge of the village's fountain and were chatting away, “He was jealous, wasn’t he?” Julieta blinked but realisation was already dawning on her as Pepa went on, “He was jealous of us, because we had someone, and he didn’t. That’s why he spent all that time in his room?”

“I think he was heartbroken,” Agustín said gently, “And we were always reminders that he couldn’t be with Sirius.”

Pepa stared on, as if trying to absorb all the feelings and knowledge about her brother and his lover just by looking at him swatting Sirius’s hand away when the other man played with his hair. She kept on staring and Agustín and Félix stayed behind her and Julieta, who kept her hand on Pepa’s arm.

It really was like Bruno was in a whole other world when he was alone with Sirius, because even if they’d stopped far enough away from them, neither him nor the Englishman noticed them at all. At one point, they left, still completely oblivious to Bruno’s sisters and brothers-in-law just standing there.

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle: Bruno was her own age, had experienced misery, loneliness and heartbreak at the hands of his own family and the whole community in the Encanto, had been alone for much longer than either of his sisters, who’d both found love and had ideal romantic relationships, had been completely disinterested in romantic matters till he met Sirius; and now he was on cloud nine, acting like a teenager at his first love. Julieta supposed he was, even if he was fifty years old.

Once Bruno and Sirius had vanished down the road, Pepa seemed to come out of her trance.

“Mi vida,” Félix called, whom just now Julieta remembered was there, seemed to be handling the news quite well, actually, “Pepi – are you alright?”

“Alright?”

Pepa turned to face them all, her hands on her hips.

“Pepa –” Julieta started.

“Julieta, our brother just reappeared after ten years, having apparently lived in the walls of our home and our guest, who also came out of nowhere, has actually been his friend for years – no, wait! His boyfriend? Lover? Who is this man? Where did he come from? What are they?”

Julieta frowned. She knew Pepa would be difficult, Julieta loved her sister, but she’d always been rather self-centred, a trait she shared with their mother. Julieta thought it was mostly because she could be, since she and Bruno were quieter and shyer than her. In fact, Pepa sort of had to be a little self-centred, and lived her emotions a little too much – it wasn’t her fault, it was the nature of her gift.

Most of the time, Pepa’s issues with Bruno were caused by her inability to try to understand their brother. Julieta couldn’t understand Bruno either, most of the time, but she did try to see things from his perspective. After he’d left, Pepa had never even considered that Bruno might have had his reasons for leaving, she’d just gone from worried to angry because for sure ‘he didn’t care about the family’. Julieta wasn’t surprised that Sirius, who seemed a rather stubborn and opinionated man himself, had yet to click with her.

“They’re no different than me and Agustín!” she said sternly, “They are no different than you and Félix!”

“They’re nothing like me and Félix!” Pepa cried, affronted.

Julieta looked at her, pitying the complete lack of control her sister had on her nerves and emotions. These were the times when Julieta could see the damage their mother had done to Pepa with her constant nagging for her to keep her emotions in check: while her mother had tried to make Pepa learn to control herself, she’d actually only made Pepa bottle everything up, so she was a nervous wreck until she exploded, usually against the wrong person (Bruno, most of the time, even when he wasn’t there). Félix was usually spared the part of lightning rod for Pepa, mostly because she’d chosen Bruno as her scapegoat long before Félix entered the picture (and Julieta suspected Bruno had actually claimed that part for himself, though she wasn’t sure if it was an involuntary move on his part). Most of the time, it was because Félix had his own gift, calming her down with just a smile or a joke.

Despite their problems, Pepa and Bruno actually had a lot in common, their anxiety most of all. Julieta’s heart hurt when she thought that her mother’s expectations had brought so much grief to her siblings, forcing Pepa to become a nervous wreck that her husband had to reign in and Bruno to be pushed aside and shunned until he thought no one cared about him at all.

Still, Pepa had been lucky, she had found Félix, had three beautiful children and was adored – along with all of them – by the community. Bruno, on the other hand, had been alone his whole life, had been shunned and beaten down (hopefully only metaphorically) by the community and their mother and their family until he couldn’t take it anymore. It now turned out that he’d even experienced terrible heartbreak, something that neither of his sisters could say to have experienced themselves. Julieta knew that she and Pepa had barely experienced rejection from a few crushes, who had even been very kind about it, else they’d find themselves in trouble with the amazing Madrigals. Bruno hadn’t been so lucky; as politely as it might have happened, he’d been denied even requests of friendship once his reputation had gone downhill.

“Yes, they’re exactly like you and Félix!” Julieta told her sister, a steel in her voice she’d always hoped to find more often, especially to defend Mirabel (luckily it turned out that girl had much more spirit than any of them and knew how to defend herself in a way her mother never could do for her), “You saw how happy they are! Just because Sirius is not a woman, it doesn’t make their feelings for each other any less valid!”

“They’re –”

“Pepa, Bruno never had anyone but his family to care about him – and what a poor job we did of it! Our brother isolated himself in Casita’s walls for ten years because he thought he couldn’t trust us not to shun Mirabel like we did him! And we proved him right, all of us! My daughter suffered anyway, even when he sacrificed ten years of his life to protect her! We owe him at least a little bit of understanding when he’s in love with the man who got wounded getting us all out of Casita! You ruin this for him, God help me, Pepa, I will never, ever speak to you again, I swear!”

Pepa was stunned. Julieta had never spoken to her like that, had never spoken to anyone like that. Agustín was looking at her very sternly too. She glanced at Félix, knowing she could always count on him for support but even he was unusually serious, “What?” she asked him directly, “You don’t think it’s weird? Bruno – with another man!”

Félix cleared his throat and glanced around as if to try and find inspiration, “No, Pepi, I don’t think it’s weird, amor,” he said, gently but firmly, “I actually have an old friend like that. I was surprised when he confessed he liked me like that, but I’d known him for many years, and I just told him I wasn’t interested, and he said ‘alright’ and we’re still friends to this day. He is a good man, much like your brother. I made many mistakes, but I always thought that Bruno was a good man, and I always knew that whatever mistakes he made were just that, mistakes. Like Julieta said, if they’re in love, they’re in love, like any other couple. I’m sure you saw that like we did.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Don’t ask me, Pepi,” Félix said, “I won’t tell.”

“I’m your wife!”

“And I thank God every day for that, mi vida,” Félix kissed her hand, “But some things shouldn’t be shared, not even with my soulmate.”

Though mollified by her husband’s words, Pepa stood there, in shock. She so rarely was allowed to fully process her emotions, that she didn’t know what to do with herself now that she could.

“Look, Pepa, of course, it was a shock to me too,” Julieta said, “I know there are people like that here in the Encanto, but it never occurred to me that Bruno was one of them. He told me about when he met Sirius years ago, and I remember how he was. And I remember how he was when Sirius left, even if I didn’t know that he was heartbroken for a man. I know how my husband makes me happy, if Sirius makes Bruno happy, why would I be against that? How can I get in the way of his happiness, when he never had any companionship at all in his life? You've seen him now; can you deny that it is the real thing? You just made up, Pepa, please, do not hate him for this!”

“Hate him!” Julieta blinked at her sister’s shocked face, “I’m just trying to understand, this is huge and very new! You know, Julieta, I know I messed up with Bruno, I made him doubt that I love him, but to think that I hate him? That’s just insulting! I am just shocked that my brother, who was never interested in getting married or even in dating, is in a relationship with another man! Just because I was angry with him, doesn’t mean I hate him! I have never hated him, ever!”

Julieta’s shoulders sagged with relief.

Pepa hesitated, a soft smile suddenly slowly forming on her lips, “Bruno did look happy, didn't he?”

Julieta nodded, “Yes, he did.”

“I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Neither have I.”

“I need to process this.”

Félix was at her side immediately, linking their arms together, “Let’s go get something to drink, mi vida, we should check on the children anyway.”

She nodded and waved at Julieta and Agustín, leaving them in the middle of the street as she and Félix trotted down the road much like Sirius and Bruno had done earlier.

Julieta watched them become smaller and smaller and listened to their voices go further and further away before her shoulders sagged in relief enough that Agustín’s arm encircled them, and he pulled her to him. She sighed and leaned against her husband. She really hated fighting, especially against her family – and she hated herself for not blowing up at her mother earlier. Mirabel, Luisa and Isabela could have been spared so much…

*

After that long, enlightening talk with her family, Abuela had taken a long walk to gather her thoughts, but it hadn’t done much to calm her.

Reflecting on her actions hadn’t eased her worries or her guilt for causing her family such pain.

Sure, they’d lost Casita, their Casita who had given them shelter for fifty years, and it was a terrible loss, but she could admit what was important now. She was just happy that her family, her whole family was safe and sound. Her son – her Bruno! – had even come back home! However, she’d always been so focused on earning the Miracle that for all her pleas to Pedro to open her eyes, she’d been blind to how bad things were.

She couldn’t be more grateful to God for gifting the family with Mirabel and her stubborn helping streak even against her own stubborn streak of always side-lining her. She was grateful to God for putting the rebellious Sirius Black on his path to the Encanto and to them, because he’d been there to help them out of Casita, when the house fell. She was grateful that Señor Lupin, Sirius’s friend, had managed to come all the way from England to heal his injuries. Abuela wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if he’d bled to death after saving her whole family from the consequences of her mistakes.

She shuddered when she entered the church’s kitchen where her failures had been spat in her face with even more venom than when Mirabel had shouted at her. Sirius Black sure did know how to pack a punch, even a metaphorical one. She couldn’t believe that all her effort in preserving the Miracle the death of her husband had been for nothing and only brought misery to her family.

Abuela flinched when the cups of tea they’d all left there suddenly floated up and to the sink. She looked left and right but no one was there, and she wondered if there was residual magic of some kind from when Sirius and Remus had supplied them all with their excellent tea.

When the kitchen appliances kept floating left and right in a way that reminded Abuela painfully of their departed Casita, she tightened her grip on her shawl and was ready to shout for help when a deep sigh broke the silence, and a small figure appeared by the stove.

It was the small creature Sirius had introduced as Kreacher, whom Abuela had been told was his servant, though Sirius hadn’t elaborated further on the matter.

The House Elf (she thought Sirius had called it – him? – that) regarded her as if she was something dirty and sneered at her.

“The Mudblood –” he slammed the teapot he was holding on his own hand, “– the Muggle woman must step away from the kitchen at once! Kreacher is very busy and would like his privacy away from filth –” he slammed the teapot on his hand again.

He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes.

Abuela was rather bemused by the whole thing and just stood there, watching him nursing his hand, as the angry red of a nasty contusion spread on the little creature’s ancient fingers.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, “Why did you hurt yourself?”

Kreacher gave her a nasty look, disgusted, “Not that the Muggle woman would understand, but Master Sirius ordered Kreacher to be nice and not to call anyone names here.”

Abuela blinked. Kreacher was right, she didn’t understand, “Did you – did you hit yourself because you said bad words to me?” she asked, “You don’t have to do that.”

The little creature glared, “Of course Kreacher does!” he snapped, “Kreacher disobeyed Master’s orders! Master Sirius ordered Kreacher to be nice to the Muggles here. But Kreacher is a good House Elf, whatever bratty Master Sirius says, and his highest law is obeying his Master’s orders, even if Kreacher doesn’t understand what Master Sirius sees in all the Muggle filth around here! What would Kreacher’s poor Mistress say if she saw what her ungrateful son asked Kreacher to do!?”

He grabbed a cup from the table, broke it and picked a sharp-edged piece.

“Don’t!” Abuela cried, immediately understanding what he was going to do, but Kreacher did it anyway, “Ay, now you’re hurt!” she grabbed his hand in hers and tried to inspect the wound. Kreacher snatched his hand back, holding it out of her grasp and regarding her as if she was something dirty and dangerous. Abuela held her hands up in surrender, “I just want to help, I won’t hurt you,” she paused when she saw him still very wary of her, “Didn’t Sirius tell you to be nice to us?”

Kreacher emitted a guttural sound but eventually held out his hand to her, “Kreacher supposes so,” he conceded as if the admission hurt him physically.

Now Abuela knew how to approach the little creature, at least for now, and the House Elf wouldn’t hurt himself anymore. What a horrible thought, she thought, that Kreacher had to hurt himself every time he disobeyed his master. She took a dish cloth from near the sink and pressed it to Kreacher’s wound, trying to stop the blood, “Perdon,” she said, “Now that the magic is gone from here, my daughter Julieta cannot heal with her food anymore, or I’d have her prepare something for you.”

Kreacher blinked, “Kreacher doesn’t understand.”

“Oh,” Abuela said, “I don’t know how much Sirius could share with you.”

“Not much,” Kreacher said, “Master Sirius was busy and Kreacher was tending to the Hippogriff. Master Sirius said he would update Kreacher once he’d rested and talked to the Muggle family.”

“Well, I won’t go into details too much because apparently I didn’t understand what happened as much as I thought, but my husband died many years ago when he tried to protect us from people who wanted to hurt us. His sacrifice gave us a miracle and my children and grandchildren had gifts, until just before you arrived here, magical gifts that we used to help the community.”

Kreacher sneered, “Yes, Kreacher heard what Master Sirius was saying earlier. Master Sirius seemed very upset because magic was used to help Muggles? Kreacher doesn’t remember the last time Master Sirius showed this much pride.”

“Pride for not helping people with magic?” Abuela asked, “I don’t think that was quite Sirius’s point. Still, I thought we should earn the Miracle, but Sirius and Remus reminded me that my husband wasn’t thinking of any reward for his sacrifice when he died, he just wanted his family safe.”

Kreacher’s eyes suddenly had a faraway look to them, and he didn’t say anything while he stood perfectly still while Abuela worked on his hand.

“What’s that word you used?” she asked, “Muggle? I heard Sirius and Remus use it too.”

Kreacher frowned at her, “Kreacher is not surprised the Muggle woman doesn’t understand. Muggle is the word for non-magical riffraff and filth. Muggles never understand, they can’t, they’re not like wizards, the Mistress used to say.”

“I thought Sirius was your master?”

“Kreacher’s Mistress is no more,” Kreacher said sadly, “Kreacher’s Mistress Black would be so upset to see Kreacher serving Master Sirius, the ungrateful brat who broke her heart with his unruly ways. It’s not like Kreacher has any choice, Master Sirius, the blood traitor that he is, is the last of Kreacher’s noble House of Black, even if he always refused the proud heritage of his ancestors and consorted with Mudbloods and disgusting half-breeds and blood traitors like him.”

He moved his free hand to hit himself, but Abuela managed to stop him before he could. Kreacher’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he stood still enough for Abuela to finish bandaging his hand.

“So, when you call me a Muggle woman, that means that I don’t have magic?”

“Is the Muggle woman insulted?”

“No,” she said, “It’s true that I don’t have magic. My children and grandchildren did. All because of my husband, apparently. Here,” Abuela put the finishing touches on the bandage, “All done.”

“This man,” Kreacher asked slowly, without acknowledging that she was done, “Kreacher understands from what he heard earlier –that is Master Bruno’s father, yes?”

Abuela blinked in surprise at the sudden improvement in Kreacher’s demeanour, “Er – sì? My husband Pedro.”

“And the Muggle woman’s children had magic?” Kreacher asked, “What kind of magic? Kreacher didn’t get too many details.”

Abuela didn’t know where Kreacher wanted to go with this but listed her family’s magical gifts.

“How odd. Kreacher knows of Seers and shapeshifters and healers but not like that… Kreacher wondered about the hourglass patterns on Master Bruno’s clothes.”

“What about Bruno’s clothes?”

“Kreacher mended them, they were in terrible state.”

“That was you? Gracias, I’ve never seen my Brunito so put together,” Abuela paused, “Do you like Bruno?”

Kreacher shrugged and looked haunted for a moment, as if he didn’t understand why he felt that way, but he couldn’t help feeling that way.

“Master Bruno was kind to Kreacher,” he finally said, “Master Bruno sort of reminded Kreacher of Master Regulus.”

Abuela regarded his wistful expression, “Can I ask who that is?”

Kreacher stared at her for a long moment, and Abuela could tell he was sizing her up, as if deciding if he could really trust her or not, “Kind Master Regulus,” he sighed with clear nostalgia, “Master Sirius could never hold a candle to his brother.”

“So, he is Sirius’s brother?” Abuela asked gently.

“Yes, nothing like Master Sirius, unruly, rebellious brat. Master Regulus always had proper pride, noble and a true testament to the purest of blood, the blood of the Blacks that run in his veins. Master Sirius never could understand that. Master Regulus has been gone for sixteen years now. Master Bruno is similar to Master Regulus somehow, Kreacher can’t quite put a finger on it. Still, Master Bruno’s very different from Master Sirius, Kreacher was surprised Master Sirius likes Master Bruno so much.”

“Is that why you call him Master? Because he’s Sirius’s friend?”

“Friend?” Kreacher looked up at her, the first actual look into her eyes he offered her, and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read her soul, “The Muggle woman doesn’t see it?” he asked, Abuela blinked and that was answer enough for him, so he shrugged, “Kreacher is not in a position to say anything. The Muggle woman will have to ask Master Bruno herself.”

Surprised by his words, Abuela tried to pry off a little more information from him but wasn’t successful in any way.

Not long after that, they were interrupted by Bruno, Sirius and Remus coming back.

Sirius’s face hardened at seeing Kreacher near her, and Abuela could gather from what she’d seen earlier and now that she’d spoken to Kreacher a bit that Sirius was worried Kreacher had been disrespectful to her.

Abuela eased his mind right away, saying that she and Kreacher had been getting to know each other a bit and that Kreacher had hurt himself.

Sirius gave her a long look, then stared at Kreacher for a long moment too, then glanced at Bruno, and finally approached the House Elf, who recoiled, wary of his master.

Seeing Kreacher’s reaction to him, Sirius took a deep breath and softened. He knelt in front of Kreacher, holding out his hand to the old House Elf. He ordered him to give him his hand and Abuela could now see that there was something magical in the way Kreacher obeyed Sirius, a kind of magic Abuela wasn’t sure she approved of.

Kreacher looked astonished that Sirius was taking the time to heal his wound, but Sirius did just that. Soon enough, Abuela’s bandage and the wound had disappeared from Kreacher’s skin.

Sirius himself seemed shocked at that development enough that he and Kreacher just stared at each other, the wizard kneeling in front of the House Elf and the House Elf standing there, both now unsure of what to do with themselves.

Abuela took the opportunity to reach out and cup Bruno’s cheek with her hand (she tried to show affection as much as she could, with all her children and grandchildren, now that she knew how unloved she’d made them feel), then clapped her hands.

“Well, dinner, I think!” she said, “Are Julieta and Pepa back?”

They all turned to Bruno, who flinched as he usually did whenever he got just a bit of attention, “Er – I don’t think so? But I think they wanted to talk to the children? It could take a while…”

“Well, that’s alright. I was thinking that maybe I could fix something for dinner and surprise Julieta,” Abuela said and didn’t miss Bruno’s surprise at her words, “Don’t be so shocked, luciérnaga, I know it’s been some time since I was at the stove, but I used to cook for the three of you all the time, remember? Julieta can use a break, and I think I remember enough. You still like ajaco, mijo, sí?”

“Er –” Bruno spluttered, “Yep, I mean, yes, but –”

“It’s settled then.”

“Excuse Kreacher,” the House Elf crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes when they all turned to him, “Kreacher didn’t say he would relinquish the kitchen!”

“Are you saying you want to make dinner, Kreacher?” asked Sirius.

“We don’t want to put you out, Kreacher,” said Bruno.

“That is what a House Elf does, Master Bruno, it is literally Kreacher’s job.”

“But – there’s – there’s fourteen of us.”

“Ha! Kreacher laughs at that number! When Kreacher served Master Sirius’s great-great-grandfather, Master Phineas Nigellus had five children himself and when they were all married it made for a Christmas meal of at least twenty-five! Kreacher can do fourteen in his sleep!”

“And you want to do it?” Sirius inquired.

Kreacher gave him a nasty look, “Why wouldn’t Kreacher want to do it?”

“Because –”

Sirius closed his mouth and he and Kreacher stared at each other before they both looked away.

Abuela shared a look with Bruno and Remus, then cleared her throat, “Perhaps you’d agree to share the kitchen, Kreacher?” she asked gently, “I’d like to cook for the family, but I haven’t cooked for a while, I’m sure I could use some help.”

“The Muggle woman wants to cook with Kreacher?”

“Be polite, Kreacher,” Sirius warned.

“That’s alright,” Abuela said, “He explained what Muggle means, and it is true that I do not have a gift or – er – magic. What do you say, Kreacher? Would you allow me to cook with you?”

Kreacher regarded her, “Kreacher supposes so,” he paused, then glanced at Sirius, “Does Master Sirius still like Kreacher’s Beef Wellington?”

Sirius blinked, “You remember that?”

“Of course, Kreacher does,” the House Elf responded rather despondently, “Master Sirius forgets that Kreacher has served the noble House of Black for seven generation. Kreacher could list the favourites of each member of that glorious house.”

Sirius was speechless for a long moment but the tension they’d always seen him show when in the presence of Kreacher lessened quite a lot, replaced by a softness Abuela had seen him reserve for the children, “I do – like Beef Wellington, I mean.”

He seemed a little shell-shocked, so Remus and Bruno led him away from the kitchen, leaving Abuela to sort out dinner with Kreacher.

*

It made for quite the sight, later, when Julieta and Pepa and their families joined Bruno, Sirius and Remus into the dining room for dinner.

Left alone by Padre Cristian, who was having his meals with his sister’s family to give the Madrigals a little privacy while they were staying at the church, the Madrigals found the long rectory table full of dishes, both their favourites and a lot of dishes that turned out to be British delicacies, courtesy of Kreacher.

Kreacher seemed rather tense at first, suspicious and wary of Abuela’s chaotic children and grandchildren, but he was mollified by them all thanking him for the meal, especially when Antonio told him everything was delicious and when Luisa praised his onion soup. He gave them seconds without them having to ask.

Dinner was a lively affair after that, what with everyone’s morale certainly perked up by their earlier talk that had brought out quite a bit of food for thought and made moving on much easier since there were no longer unshared feelings festering.

Abuela watched Agustín and Félix bombarding Remus with questions about England. She was worried about how many times her sons-in-law kept refilling his glass with wine, but it turned out both Remus and Sirius held their liquor quite well.

Julieta and Pepa were huddled to the side with their brother and it warmed Abuela’s heart to see how easily her triplets had gone back in sync: after a few encouraging words from Julieta, Bruno was telling them something which Abuela couldn’t hear but he seemed very excited about it. Was he talking about his rats? It was a topic that always made him happy, that and his nieces and nephews, so what brought him so much joy now? Abuela didn’t know but she was happy to see how animatedly he gestured and how hard Pepa and Julieta laughed at his antics.

The children, on the other hand, were all pestering Sirius about his brand of magic, about Kreacher’s dishes and all sorts of questions.

Once the triplets joined that conversation, Abuela thought back to Kreacher’s words about Bruno. Her son had swiftly moved from the corner he’d shared with her sisters to Sirius’s side, throwing an arm around his friend’s shoulder and joining easily in the conversation. Both him and Sirius grinned easily to each other.

Abuela watched them both playfully hitting each other and pushing their hair away from their faces. She didn’t know what her daughters thought of how familiar the two treated each other, Pepa and Julieta’s expressions were unreadable, and Bruno seemed completely oblivious about it. Abuela had never seen her son be so relaxed and out-going with anyone, he had been like that with his sisters but that was a long time ago, when they were children. She also didn’t know enough about Sirius’s country to say if Sirius’s familiarity with Bruno was unusual or not. He seemed very close to Remus too, so maybe it was cultural, but he seemed to put extra care when he was with Bruno.

Sirius and Bruno obviously cared a lot about each other and Abuela did believe they’d hit it off easily, she’d had several friends in her life like that, one of them being Mariano’s mother Ximena Guzman.

Now that she thought about everything her children and grandchildren had told her, she could see that Bruno didn’t have many friends, so she couldn’t say if he was behaving differently with Sirius.

To be fair, none of the triplets never had many friends, and Abuela regretted forcing them to work so hard that they didn’t have time for themselves. They were fifty years old, and their mother had never considered that they didn’t have time for friends. Julieta and Pepa did have each other, though, and their husbands, and did sometimes go out with acquired friends or the few they had left from their childhoods.

Bruno hadn’t been so lucky. He was always polite but kept to himself and Abuela couldn’t remember him being close with anyone other than his sisters, who eventually got married and had children, leaving them little time to spend with their brother. With Sirius, she could see in Bruno an easiness to his smile, and a complete lack of that nervous, anxious energy she’d grown to resent and dismiss over the years. She guessed she’d tried so hard to correct Bruno’s quirkiness because not only did it disrupt her stupid ideal perfect family, but it was evidence of how she lacked as a mother. She had to admit that it wasn’t the quirkiness of Bruno that bothered her, that was actually one of his more endearing qualities and one his nieces and nephews loved most of him, but the anxiety Bruno showed when he tried to stifle it to please her which he could never do, she thought regretfully.

Abuela watched the easy happiness her family could show now and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen them so relaxed. Had they truly never been like this? She’d stifled them till they all exploded, didn’t they? And the first to explode had been Mirabel, even if she didn’t have a gift.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that with her lack of a gift, Mirabel had been the only one of the Madrigals to see.

Abuela didn’t have a gift herself either, but she’d put herself in charge of the Miracle from the start and when her children were old enough, she’d already been in charge for so long that it didn’t even occur to her that she didn’t actually need to be in charge.

Mirabel was clearly the most obvious victim of her actions, and Abuela was appalled to think that even with how she’d behaved with her family, Mirabel was so quick to forgive her. Speaking of the innocence of children, Abuela herself wouldn’t have forgiven years of being pushed aside so easily.

It turned out that even Isabela, the granddaughter she’d doted on the most, the granddaughter she’d tried so hard to ensure the happiness of, she’d actually been pressuring so much that she would have married a man just to please her.

When Sirius mentioned Dolores, Camilo and Luisa’s struggles, Abuela had been ashamed to find that she couldn’t even reply to the accusations so true they were.

She’d never paid attention to her other grandchildren enough to notice that Luisa was so overworked that she thought she had no value outside being physically strong, that Dolores had to hear people calling her a chismosa and insult her uncle, that Camilo didn’t like putting a façade for the townspeople every single day. Abuela didn’t even know their likes and dislikes.

And her own children, whom Pedro had loved from the moment she’d told him they were expecting!

She’d deliberately ignored Julieta’s pleas to treat Mirabel better, basically telling her daughter to shut up and stay in the kitchen, making decisions for her and her daughters with no regard for her opinion.

She’d kept pressuring Pepa into pushing down her emotions, just to make sure that the weather was always sunny. It seemed stupid and cruel now that she stopped to think about it. She was lucky that Pepa had found a great, supportive man in Félix, a man who managed to keep her happy and always smiling. Her children too, quiet Dolores and sweet Antonio, were a delight and too loveable to describe, and Camilo, with his bright and playful personality, almost his extremely kind and supportive heart. Abuela couldn’t believe she’d ignored them for so long in favour of pressuring Isabela, as involuntary as it might have been on her part.

And Bruno? She’d dismissed her son’s growing unease and misery just like Julieta’s exhaustion. No wonder he was an anxious mess much like Pepa, when he’d always been rebuked for anything he said and blamed when he saw something unsatisfactory. She’d just kept pushing and pushing him to have visions about the future, always chastising him when he had negative visions because his bad reputation tarnished her name and her image of a perfect family.

Pedro would be so disappointed with her. Her goofy husband wouldn’t have cared in the least if Pepa had tantrums that made it rain and he would have danced with her until the sun shone again, he would have played chef with Julieta and he would have tried to cheer Bruno up instead of telling him off for being miserable.

She felt so ashamed of herself, and she was scared out of her mind of what the future might bring now that the Encanto didn’t have the magic to protect them.

Sure, in the following days, Sirius and Remus helped clear the rubble that used to be Casita.

Even for the magical, amazing Madrigals, it had been quite a spectacle to see them whipping out and waving their wands – that’s what they’d called the wooden sticks they used – and move around the rubble to help.

Abuela, who’d been around magic since that fateful day her babies had been born, could just gape in shock as twelve boxes appeared out of nowhere in front of each member of her family (herself included).

Remus waved his wand, and all sorts of things rose from the rubble, floating in front of them as if in a wind that politely waited for them to see and identify their things: ruined and damaged, yes, but they were their belongings. It soon became a game for her grandchildren, that they would shout out that that book was theirs or that shirt and Sirius would fish it out of the floating line of things like a fisherman would take a fish from a river and send it to the appropriate box.

Bruno’s items were less than any of the others, but he explained that he’d taken his things with him before, so he didn’t have much in the house before it fell.

And still nothing came as more of a shock as when Abuela realised just how much she’d catered to the community rather than her own family, than when Mirabel, of all people, had run up to their concerned neighbours announcing that Sirius could help.

They’d met with the townspeople to plan the rebuilding of Casita. Everyone had offered a helping hand, but some had lamented that there was a lot to do and now that Luisa didn’t have her gift they would have to do it all by hand. Luisa’s eyes had filled with tears right away and she’d made herself smaller, her lip trembling as she hugged herself.

Abuela had watched in amazement as Sirius’s usual softness for the children was immediately replaced with a sternness that made his thin, handsome face look so very different. It was as if he couldn’t see that Mirabel had just been parroting what Abuela had spent her whole life drilling in each member of the family’s head. It really spoke to Abuela that Mirabel herself, whom she’d pushed aside in favour of the gifted members of the family, would be the one to speak like she would have.

He didn’t say anything until people surrounded him, asking this and that.

It was like that shockingly revealing talk had indeed opened her eyes, like she’d always asked her Pedro to do, because Abuela could suddenly see the entitlement and excitement in the way they asked to see his magic, to fix their house and to restore their streets to their earlier pristine condition.

At that point, Sirius crossed his arms testily and stated that they weren’t owed a damn thing, and he didn’t have to fix anything just because he was a wizard, much like the Madrigals didn’t have to use their magic to fix every single thing in the Encanto.

Remus was visibly irritated with their neighbours too, but he elbowed Sirius with a disapproving frown worthy of a schoolteacher and a nod towards Mirabel. The girl looked so flustered when she realised what she’d said and how Sirius had interpreted it, and Sirius was obviously regretful when he noticed her distress, but his regret vanished when Señor Lopez, the donkey farmer, said that Abuela had been the one to tell them to rely on the Madrigals for everything.

Abuela had gaped – she had said as much, of course, she’d said as much for years, but somehow, she was completely blind to how her words had been taken. She’d watched as Remus, who till then had always been kind and polite and had obviously avoided getting involved, became rigid like a predator ready to attack, indignation painted all over his face.

“Is that right? Madam Madrigal said that?” he repeated slowly, “And none of you thought that it was unfair and undignified to rely on that and take advantage of her overworked children and grandchildren just because they have magic? Has it ever occurred to even one of you to ask any member of the Madrigal family beside the Madam if they actually wanted to always be at your beck and call?”

Abuela didn’t know how she had never thought of it like that. She had allowed her neighbours to take advantage of each of her family members, hadn’t she? She had indeed.
“Let me get one thing straight,” Sirius declared, his face still as dark as his hair, “I do not owe any of you anything, my friend here –” he slapped a hand on Remus’s shoulder, “– doesn’t owe you anything. None of them –” he motioned towards the Madrigals, “– owes you anything. The mere fact that their father and grandfather’s sacrifice kept you safe all of these years should be proof enough that if anything, you owe them everything. Starting with some apologies.”

It spoke to Remus’s indignation that he didn’t say anything to calm Sirius down, and it spoke to Abuela’s shock that she couldn’t find it in herself to say anything to smooth things over.

Their neighbours gaped like fishes. Some looked guilty, some guiltier than others.

“A-apologies?” asked a man around Agustín’s age.

It was Juan Gomez, the fisherman’s son. Abuela noticed that Sirius and Remus’s words seemed to have reached some of the people there. Among others, Abuela caught the eye of Señora Guzman, who actually avoided her eyes and looked away in obvious shame, and Señor Murillo, one of the elders of the town, who seemed to have taken Sirius’s words to heart too, though he’d taken a while to warm up to him, after Sirius had slammed the door in his face after that fateful dinner with the Guzmans.

“Yes, apologies, you ungrateful twat,” Sirius snapped at him, then turned his head and stared at the true object of his rage, “You first,” Sirius told Señor Lopez and Osvaldo.

The donkey farmer gulped when Sirius pointed at him but obeyed at the wizard’s beckoning and stepped forward. Osvaldo, on the other hand, hesitated, “I – I don’t understand –”

“Clearly,” Sirius snapped at him, “Luisa, come here, dearie.”

“Me?” the tall girl in a small voice.

“Yes.”

As tall as Luisa was, she looked small and shy as she approached Sirius, Osvaldo and Señor Lopez, red in the face at the sudden attention. Though she was the Madrigal who was the complete opposite of Bruno, who was a short, thin, ragged man, while she was a big, strong woman with well-toned muscles, Luisa looked remarkably like her uncle in that moment, one-arm hugging herself with her right arm, keeping a hold of her left, much like Bruno did when he felt embarrassed. She wasn’t used to any kind of attention that wasn’t due to her showing off her gift.

“I don’t understand,” she said softly.

Sirius ignored her, his eyes fixed on the donkey farmer and the portly man next to him, “Apologise to the girl,” he commanded. The two men stood there, in shock, right in front of all their friends and neighbours, not knowing what to say, “Apologise for taking advantage of her before I make you grovel!”

The two men flinched and obeyed. They didn’t need to see him do magic, something in him made them want to avoid his wrath.

“Good,” Sirius said dangerously, waving them away with his hand as if they were something dirty, “Not you!” he barked at Osvaldo, when the man turned to leave, “You stay.”

“Huh?”

“Now, Mirabel.”

Mirabel looked just as shocked as Luisa had moments earlier, “Er – que? But I – there’s no need –”

“Actually.”

Agustín’s voice interrupted his daughter’s embarrassed stammers. He didn’t flinch at the sudden attention on him, instead, he straightened his shoulders, his usually kind face stern, and he adjusted his glasses on his face before crossing his arms, “I agree with Sirius. I was not aware of how much this town has disrespected my daughter just because she didn’t have a gift like the rest of the family. Since I know you’re one of those who did disrespect my Mirabel, Osvaldo, I want you to apologise to my daughter.”

Osvaldo blinked, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“WHAT DO I MEAN!?” Sirius shouted, brandishing his wand menacingly, while Mirabel blushed furiously.

Bruno came up behind Sirius and grabbed him before he could physically attack Osvaldo, “Sirius! Sirius, please, calm down!”

“He’s referring to you saying that my daughter’s ceremony was a bummer,” Agustín said, still uncharacteristically stern, “And giving her – what was it, Mirabel?”

“Er – Pà, there’s no need –”

“Oh, yes! The ‘Not-special special’!”

Osvaldo beamed, “Ah! It was a beautiful basket, wasn’t it?” he exclaimed, “I gave her the special, since she’s the only Madrigal kid with no gift! Well – not anymore!”

Mirabel grimaced as most of the people present gaped at Osvaldo.

Abuela could see that many of them gasped, as if suddenly realising that, though they may not have been just as blatantly obliviously rude to Mirabel, each of them had probably acted similarly, if not with her, with her family members.

Isabela put her hands on her hips, “Señor Osvaldo, that’s not a polite thing to say to my sister!” she said, looking like an angry cat, “You should really –”

“Isa, I already told you that you should stuff it!” Mirabel snapped, “I don’t need you to defend me! You weren’t any better than him or any of them! I tried to keep smiling, but you all really had to just keep reminding me that I was less than any of my family because I didn’t get a gift? That I was less than you, even if you didn’t have a gift yourselves! That I had to keep away, like I was something wrong! Señor Osvaldo, I didn’t say anything because I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but you really don’t get that telling me to my face that my ceremony was a bummer because it did not work was not a nice thing to say to me? And even calling it a bummer was so disrespectful on another level! I should have received a gift from the Miracle created by my Abuelo’s death that left my Mamá, my Tío and Tía orphaned by their father, and my Abuela's despair, it wasn’t something for your amusement! You treated me like a bother and my family members like a show put on for your entertainment!”

Abuela knew that most people in town were nice to Mirabel, but she’d been told that the girl had confessed to her mother and father and sisters. She’d said that, while people mostly gave her pitying looks when it came to the subject of her lack of a gift, she found it irritating and upsetting, even if she’d never said anything, since she didn’t mind it as much as people who were more vocal about it.

“Osvaldo Orozco Ortiz!”

It was Señora Ortiz, Osvaldo’s mother. She stepped forward looking embarrassed out of her mind and almost as furious with her son as Sirius.

She was short, plump, older woman, a little older than Abuela, with grey hair were pulled into a stern bun. She was so small that everyone always wondered how she could have birthed a tall man like Osvaldo, but she had the energy of Parce the Jaguar and could send people running with a glance. Her hands on her hips were enough to have Osvaldo flinch at the sight of the angry woman, “Mamá –”

“Don’t you ‘Mamá’ me, Osvaldo!” she berated him, pointing her finger at him very menacingly, “How many times have I told you that you have to watch what you say!? Is that how your Papá – God bless his soul – and I have raised you? How could you say something like that to Mirabel, and on a difficult day for her too!” she turned sharply to the teenager, who was already taller than her, “I’m sorry, Mirabel, I’m sorry for my son’s lack of tact!” she turned to him, “Apologise to Mirabel! Right now!”

His face crumpled as he turned to Mirabel, “I – er – I’m sorry, Mirabel, I didn’t realise I was hurting your feelings –”

“Er – it’s alright,” Mirabel said and swallowed the lump in her throat, looking away, “It was rather hurtful, and I know you didn’t intend it like that, but I accept your apology now that you do.”

“Gracias, Mirabelita, it won’t happen again,” Señora Ortiz smiled at her, then turned to Sirius, “I’m sorry my son forced you to call him out for everyone to see like a child, Señor. He’s a good boy, but he really doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes! What an unpleasant impression you’ll have of us –”

Sirius blinked, his rage forgotten, “Oh – er – not at all –”

“It won’t happen again, trust me,” she said decisively, then dragged her son away by his ear, “Saying such things to a sweet girl like Mirabel, you should be ashamed of yourself —”

Abuela and everyone else watched them disappear down the road, Señora Olivia mumbling furiously to herself and Osvaldo leaning down and letting out pained sounds as she dragged him by the ear.

One of the first to recover from that scene was indeed Señora Guzman, who apologised to Mirabel and then approached Luisa, taking her hands in hers, “I’m so sorry, Luisita,” she said gently, “I realise now that I too asked a lot of you, and not a lot of things that actually needed your attention.”

Luisa blushed furiously, “Oh, oh! No, Señora, I didn’t mind –”

“Nonsense,” said Señora Guzman, “I shouldn’t have asked you to reroute the river, the other day. And we could have just moved to the other room for my Mariano to sing his son instead of asking you to bring the piano into the dining room when we were at dinner.”

“It’s alright, gracias,” Luisa said, with a tremul0us smile, “I could have said no.”

“That’s just it, though,” a woman said suddenly, “It’s true, we might have been a little pushy, but you could have said no and tell all of us this before. Sure, we can apologise, but none of us have to apologise as much as him. Aren’t you going to apologise?”

It was Señora Villanueva, the baker’s sister, and she was looking at Bruno, who flinched at the sudden attention and gaped like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Que?” Abuela asked in surprise, as Sirius automatically moved himself closer to her son.

Pepa cocked her head to the side, in confusion, “Why should Bruno apologise?” she asked.

“Well, Señora Madrigal, it figures that all this trouble was caused by him and his visions. The magic and the Casita break and he is right here. We all know what that means, right? He probably caused Mirabel not to get a gift too, didn’t you?” she asked Bruno.

He didn’t respond but they all saw his tight grip on Sirius’s arm.

Sirius didn’t say anything, but his face was stony and red sparks came out of his wand, his knuckles white in response to how tight his grip was on the small piece of wood. His anger was way past talking or even shouting.

Abuela noticed Julieta close by and almost jumped away from her.

Julieta’s usually kind and sweet demeanour was gone. Julieta didn’t speak but all of the Madrigals were waiting for the dark storm cloud of her sister Pepa to appear at a moment’s notice on her head, even if Julieta never had the gift of controlling the weather.

Pepa herself looked too stunned to do anything, but it was Isabela who spoke.

She had recovered from Mirabel’s harsh but well-deserved words, and despite her striking resemblance to Abuela herself, at that moment, she and her mother looked so much alike in their displeasure. Still with her hair smeared in coloured pollen, her originally pink dress now dark as the night sky, their formerly perfect girl stood straight, head held high and hands in her lap. Somehow she looked as lovely as she looked dangerous.

“You will forgive me, Señora Villanueva, I fail to see how you have any authority telling my uncle what to do.”

“There’s no need to be disrespectful, Isabelita, I’m just trying to look out for you,” said Señora Villanueva and Abuela wondered how Isabela was disrespectful when she was perfectly polite. Was this because she was defending Bruno? “For too long the Madrigal family and the Encanto had to suffer because of him! Come on, we all know that you were the one to cause all this mess,” she said. Abuela saw Señora Guzman look around for an escape. She couldn’t blame her, and looked at Luisa, who was staring at Señora Villanueva with an unreadable expression, “Even your own family knows that –”

“What did you just say?” Isabela cried indignantly.

Sensing the danger once his ex-girlfriend snapped (uh, he didn’t know that he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, did he? They had to rectify that, didn’t they? Abuela sighed, that was going to be a fun conversation), Mariano approached Bruno’s accuser, “Señora Villanueva, perhaps you should leave it –”

“And what do you think you know about our family?” Pepa’s voice drowned Isabela’s indignation in a shrill cry.

“He has no right being here!”

It was Señora Pezmuerto. It wouldn’t end well, it never did when someone even Abuela called (in her mind) ‘the crazy fish lady’ got involved.

She glanced at Sirius when Bruno flinched at the woman’s shout: he looked like a dog ready to pounce. Abuela thought he sort of was one.

“Excuse me?” Isabela said hotly, “How do you make that?”

“Because of his prophecies, we all had to suffer –”

Señora Pezmuerto was pointing menacingly at Bruno and Sirius pushed him behind him, unnaturally calm, and raised the hand holding his wand.

“Please, everyone,” said Padre Cristian, who hosted the Madrigals and already knew that they wouldn’t like for people to say anything to Bruno, “We should all calm down –”

Even Bruno was surprised by that and the priest smiled ruefully at him. Bruno inclined his head, confused, “So now you’re alright with him?” Señora Pezmuerto shrieked, “After he said you would lose all your hair?”

Padre Cristian didn’t look away from Bruno, “Sí, I am,” he told the woman.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” the priest explained with his cheeks red, glancing at Julieta, and turned back to Bruno, “Vanity is a sin and, especially as a man of the Church, I must atone for indulging in this devil behaviour. I shouldn’t have blamed you, it’s truly unbecoming of a man of the cloth. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh – huh – thanks, I guess?” Bruno said tentatively, “Though I probably could have phrased that better.”

Padre Cristian shook his head, “That may be, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you for so long, and it was stupid of me to even ask. The Lord says to forgive and forget, whereas we all made you pay tenfold for any perceived malice, so we – I am certainly the one who has to apologise.”

Bruno didn’t know what to say, so he merely nodded. No one in town had ever apologised to him, certainly not like that, and Abuela couldn’t believe how much she’d missed all these years because she was too focused into keeping the Miracle alive, instead of taking the matter in her own hands.

“You’re apologising to him?” Señora Pezmuerto hissed, “After everything he has done?”

“Everything he has done?” repeated Camilo, coming into the conversation, “He’s done nothing wrong!”

“Nothing wrong?” the woman shrieked in a high-pitched voice, she turned angrily to Bruno, “You’re a killer!”

“How dare you!” cried Isabela.

“Excuse me?” Sirius hissed through gritted teeth.

“Now, that’s enough, Ozma,” said Padre Cristian, “You’re crossing a line.”

“Isa, there’s no need –” Bruno started.

“There’s every need!” Isabela hissed, “There’s every need when she disrespects you for no reason! And to your face, no less!”

“Disrespecting him? Ha!” mocked Señora Pezmuerto, “He killed my Señor Rojo!”

Sirius glanced at the Madrigals, then he looked at Bruno, who was looking away with a frown and then at Padre Cristian who swallowed and looked down, “And Señor Rojo is –?”

“My goldfish!” Señora Pezmuerto cried, indignant, “And he killed him!”

“I just told you that it would die if you didn’t take proper care of it,” Bruno blurted out softly, with the frustration of someone who had had the same argument time and time again.

“Yeah! And guess what? It was dead the next day!”

There was a moment of silence, where Sirius and Remus looked at Bruno, not daring to believe what they had just heard, “Your goldfish,” Sirius deadpanned.

“Yes! And you’d steer clear of him if you knew what’s good for you, Señor! He told me my fish would die and the next day my Señor Rojo was dead!” she shrieked, pointing menacingly at Bruno.

“I warn you, woman, you stay away from him,” Sirius said, pulling Bruno further behind him.

“Sirius –”

“Bruno, I won’t let anyone –”

“You should have never come back! Murderer!”

“Ozma!” Padre Cristian shouted, “Enough!”

Sirius rolled up his sleeves, Remus’s grip on his arm wasn’t that strong anymore and he easily slapped his hand away, “Did you just call him a murderer,” he hissed, “Over a sodding goldfish!?”

“I am just telling the truth!” the woman shouted, “You are a fool if you keep associating with him! He’s a curse on the Encanto! Everyone knows! He’s bad luck! Everyone knows there’s no place for him here! Even his sister knows, since he ruined her wedding!”

Sirius’s wand suddenly let out a burst of flames that had everyone else jump backwards.

Slap!

Pepa was now between him and the screaming woman, her hand still raised as she glared at Señora Pezmuerto.

Camilo grinned, “Go, Mami!”

The flames from Sirius’s wand fizzled out.

“How dare you?” Pepa hissed, in dangerously low voice for someone usually so loud and outspoken especially when it came to her emotions, “How dare you butt in my family’s business and talk that way to my brother?”

Señora Pezmuerto’s angry face faltered at Pepa’s reaction. Clearly, she thought that Pepa, having always been so outspoken about her dislike of Bruno, would back her up. Camilo relished in watching the scene.

“Señora Pepa, I – he makes bad things happen, everyone knows that – you know that – you –”

“Shut up! What’s it to you what my brother did at my wedding? Whatever grievances I have with my brother are none of your business! What right do you have to bring anything like that up just to justify your stupid grudge against him for your pathetic fish!” Pepa shouted, “What makes you think you have any right to say anything to him!? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Pepa, please, there’s no need –” Bruno tried to hold onto his sister, and addressed the other woman, “Señora, perhaps it’s best –”

Señora Pezmuerto spit in Bruno’s face.

Camilo’s smile vanished.

Bruno was pushed onto the ground as a giant bear-like black dog replaced Sirius, towering over the woman, teeth bared. The onlookers gasped in shock.

Señora Pezmuerto shrieked and jumped back.

Camilo preferred to help his uncle up instead of doing anything to stop the giant beast, so fed up with the woman that he didn’t mind if the big dog did maul her. Bruno scrambled to his feet with Camilo’s help and put himself between Señora Pezmuerto and the dog, “Sirius, please, calm down! I beg you, please, be reasonable and turn back!”

His pleas got through to Sirius, who turned back into a human, but his face was no less ferocious, “Why? She disrespected you! Why shouldn’t I just take care of her? Do you think I care that she’s a woman?”

“You’re already on the run –”

“Yeah! What are they going to do? Chuck me back in prison? Joke’s on them, I know how to get out!”

“P-prison?” choked Señora Pezmuerto.

Sirius turned to her with a nasty grin, “For mass murder!”

Bruno tightened his grip on Sirius, “Sirius, please, don’t say that! You’re innocent!”

“Well, it wasn’t for lack of trying!” Sirius growled.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret for me!”

“I wouldn’t regret it! I don’t want anyone hurting you to get away scot-free!”

“WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT!?” Bruno shouted. Sirius stiffened and turned to look at him, completely crestfallen against the rage and disapproval in Bruno’s face, all directed at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anyone! I especially don’t want you to hurt anyone for me! I don’t want anyone hurt because of me, not even her!”

He and Sirius both stood there, in silence, Bruno breathing heavily, as if bringing that rage had physically drained, Sirius shocked and worried, like a dog ready for the stick of its owner.

“Oh, please, Tío, let him at her, maybe she’ll learn some manners this time!” Camilo shouted from the sidelines, missing the significance of Bruno’s outburst and of Sirius’s sudden silence.

“Camilo, stay out of it!” cried Félix, while Pepa still gaped at her brother’s sudden rage.

“You’re one to talk!” Señora Pezmuerto retorted to the boy, ignoring his father completely, “Everyone knows all your little stories about the curse of the Encanto!” she smirked triumphantly when all the colour drained from Camilo’s face, “Now you love him so much, huh? Did you tell him, though?”

Pepa stilled and readied her hand to slap the woman again, “You want to have a go at my son, now, you vile –”

“He did.”

They all turned to Bruno, whose pale face was hurt and tired. Camilo looked at him, crestfallen that his shameful antics had been brought into the conversation.

“The thing is,” Bruno went on, stepping forward and putting a hand on Camilo’s shoulder with shocking boldness, “Camilo was only a child when I left, and he went on what you guys told him. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Camilo blinked and Bruno offered him a small smile. Camilo smiled back tentatively, then he sighed dramatically and turned to Señora Pezmuerto, “Your name is literally Pezmuerto! No one needs a vision to know that fishes are not the right pet for you!”

Sirius snorted at that, but Bruno gave him a furious look. Sirius swallowed the laugh and looked away, dejected.

Señora Pezmuerto bristled and looked at Pepa, who crossed her arms, frowning, clearly approving of her son’s behaviour and definitely refusing to reprimand him. She glanced at Félix, who looked away and whistled cheekily.

She then turned to Abuela, “Doña Madrigal!” she said briskly, “Are you going to allow your grandson to speak to me that way?”

Abuela hadn’t had the strength to say anything before.

She knew emotions were running high with the huge cracks in the streets, the Gifts gone, Casita in ruins and the mountains opened, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Of course, she had known people were wary of Bruno, and she hadn’t liked the thought of that. She loved her son, and she wanted him happy, but she’d been so blinded by her need to earn the Miracle that she hadn’t noticed that it had gotten this bad. Such a display of hatred from Señoras Villanueva and Pezmuerto showed her in no uncertain tones that things had gotten this bad indeed.

She’d been blind to something so clear in front of her face. The casual way they had accused Bruno of causing the destruction of Casita and of being behind Mirabel’s lack of a gift, after Bruno’s ten-year-old absence from their lives, had been eye-opening to Abuela.

By never saying anything, by always reprimanding her son for telling people of his visions, she made people think it was okay to treat Bruno as some kind of killjoy and bad omen.

Now that she thought about it, he’d always been a kind, lively child, running around and spending time with his sisters all day long. When had he become a lonely, tired, shy man who wasn’t used to his mother’s touch?

She’d never taken Bruno’s side about anything, except when he said he wanted to stay in his room because he was quirky and weird to the townspeople, and she had to show them how perfect the family was. Perfect. The word now left a bad taste in her mouth.

Abuela looked straight at Señora Pezmuerto’s scandalised face and felt her heart harden, as did her resolve to protect her family the way she should have for all these years. Her face turned to stone, her lips pressed into a thin line and her brows narrowed.

“Pray tell, Señora,” she said stiffly, “What makes you think I will reprimand my grandson for defending his uncle? Why should I chastise any member of my family for defending Bruno? Why should I condone any further smearing of my own son’s name? Why should I condone you spitting at him? Better yet, why have I condoned the smearing of my son’s name? I have avoided intervening in this matter for far too long. I allowed you all to make it so he didn’t feel welcome in his own home, in the place his father’s death created to keep him and his sisters safe. My eyes are open now: my Pedro’s death created a safe haven for his family, his wife and children, you were here only for a lucky chance, in fact, Señora, you weren’t even born at the time, so you don’t get to treat my son in such an undignified and pathetic way, especially if you want to stay here. You don’t get to talk down to my granddaughter for anything. And since we’re talking, you don’t get to treat my granddaughter as anything less than for any reason, let alone the lack of a gift that wasn’t her fault or even something you yourself have. My Bruno never did anything but try and help this community as much as the rest of the family. He only ever loved this family and this community, and this is how you repay him and the sacrifice of his father? Bruno certainly never tried to hurt anyone or cause anyone harm, he never caused any misfortune to this Encanto or our family. Anyone who keeps suggesting that he had anything to do with his own niece not getting a gift can take it up to me. And whatever grievances any of us may or may not have with him, it’s certainly none of your business,” she turned on her heels and hooked her arm with Bruno’s, taking him by surprise, “Come, Brunito, Sirius, we have much to talk about and none of it concerns Señoras Villanueva and Pezmuerto.”

“Go, Abuela!” Mirabel cried enthusiastically, throwing her fist in the air and laughing with Camilo.

Abuela didn’t know who settled everything once she’d dragged her son and his friend away from the scene, discouraging further manifestations of unjustified hatred against her boy. She suspected Julieta and Agustín, the most level-headed of the family.

Once they were back in the rectory, she, Bruno and Sirius stood silent while the rest of the family filed back in and vanished in their assigned rooms.

Bruno looked pale, hurt and frustrated.

“Bruno...”

Abuela watched Sirius try to reach out to put his hand on his shoulder, but her son slapped it away and marched in the yard, slamming the door behind him. Pepa and Julieta ran after him.

Sirius was shocked and crestfallen at the development. Remus led him to another room of the rectory.

Abuela had never seen Bruno so angry, and she’d never actually seen him furious. She prayed – though she was sure she didn’t need to – that he would forgive Sirius quickly. He was so relaxed with him, and he’d never had any friends before, so Abuela wanted him to have that, even if she didn’t approve of Sirius’s outburst and threat to Señora Pezmuerto, though justified. Abuela had seen how happy Bruno was since he’d reappeared, even if his living conditions for the past ten years had been as dismal as Mirabel had reported, and she knew the presence of his friend was a huge part of that happiness.

She guessed correctly. Later in the afternoon, in a twist of events because it was usually Pepa who’d fought with someone and needed talking to or cheering up, Pepa and Julieta guided their brother to the room Remus had led Sirius into and forced them to talk, before going back to the kitchen with Remus.

When they were called for dinner later, Bruno had apparently forgiven Sirius, though the Englishman seemed to be trying very hard to please him and was on a roll, trying left and right to do anything to show him how sorry he was. It was actually kind of sweet. If Abuela didn’t know better, she would say it was exactly how her Pedro would act after a fight with her, though Sirius wasn’t getting Bruno flowers.

*

Mirabel and the Madrigals were surprised when they saw the catechism classroom where the two wizards put their base for their research, and then they said that they wanted to work on creating a protection for the Encanto.

Sirius and Remus settled there with a large amount of giant tomes fished out of Remus’s surprisingly spacious trunk somehow. And then Sirius sent Kreacher back to England only for the House Elf to come back with another great number of books lent by some old wizard they said was called Albus Dumbledore (Camilo’s words).

The two wizards explained that they wanted to use a type of magic called wards.

It turned out that there was some kind of ward here in the Encanto, as it had been sparked by Pedro’s love for his family and kept alive by the love each of the members of her family had for one another. Familial magic, they called it, magic kept alive by emotions and familial love.

Abuela felt particularly foolish when she realised that Mirabel had been exactly right, because apparently her behaviour towards all her family members had made the magic dwindle till it vanished.

In fact, Remus said softly, the magic would have probably vanished much earlier if not for the family’s love for one another despite all the expectations and pressure: for Julieta’s quiet but hard work in the kitchen every day, for Pepa’s anxiety to please everyone and give them the ‘correct’ weather, for Agustín and Félix’s unwavering support of their spouses and children, for Isabela’s self-sacrificing goal to give away her happiness for the family, for Luisa’s hard work, for Camilo’s efforts to make everyone smile and take care of his mother, for Dolores’s quiet strength in keeping some secrets to help her family, for Antonio’s unbiased love for Mirabel, for Mirabel’s strong resolve to prove herself to her beloved family in spite of their dismissive behaviour towards her and for Bruno’s silent yet stubborn way to help by literally patching up the cracks, basically pouring his love for his family and his desire to mend things into his work.

But even all that love couldn’t stand that pressure.

“Dios mio!” she’d cried when she’d heard that, and her daughters had rushed to comfort her, “And now that the magic is gone, we are not protected anymore! Danger can come freely and destroy us all and our home!”

“Well, nothing’s lost, you know. There is one last line of defence –”

She looked up at Sirius with anxious eyes, and found him looking at Bruno, his cheeks reddened, for whatever reason, “Que?” she asked quickly, “The – como lo dices? – ward? Is it not gone?”

“No, it is gone. The one made by your husband,” Sirius said, somehow hesitantly, “But there’s still the one I made.”

Bruno blinked in confusion at that.

“Que?” Abuela asked.

“When I was here fifteen years ago – I noticed that the wards were dwindling, and James and I gave them a boost. We didn’t know things were this bad, or we would have just made new ones, though they would have been different,” he looked straight at Bruno, who stared back with wide eyes, “I wanted to protect you.”

Abuela had never seen Bruno smile quite like he did at Sirius’s declaration.

“Ay, guapo,” Bruno sighed, and if Abuela didn’t know better, she would say that he was in love.

Sirius went on to explain things that the Madrigals didn’t quite grasp, despite Remus and Sirius’s efforts to be especially clear about what they thought they could do. So, in the end, the Madrigals gave Sirius and Remus leeway to do as they pleased, trusting them with their protection.

The Madrigals had never seen books quite like the tomes that now sat on the desk, most of them as large as Félix’s chest. Sirius and Remus handled them with ease, but they’d been wary of letting any of the Madrigals near any of them. When Félix had tried to take one, saying the material the cover was made of was cool, Remus had told him it was made of human skin, and the man had thrown it with a high-pitched scream. They’d left the two wizards to research after that.

At one point, the Madrigals found out that what would have been Isabela’s engagement dinner was in fact not the most awkward dinner they would attend in their lives.
Though it seemed that the two wizards were having the time of their lives, like the research brought back happy memories that both Sirius and Remus desperately needed, the research Sirius and Remus were doing didn’t always go well. They locked themselves in the study for days and the Madrigals only caught glimpses of complex diagrams and numbers that fascinated Mirabel quite a lot each time she went into the room to bring a snack or to call them for dinner or force them to take a break.

At one point, Sirius was in such an awful mood that even Bruno could barely speak to him without having his head bitten off. He and Remus got in a horrid row, screaming at each other in English talking so fast that apparently the charm they’d used to translate their language into Spanish wasn’t working anymore and they stomped in different directions, though Remus took the time to snap at Bruno to try and talk sense into Sirius.

They only saw each other again at dinner, where they didn’t look at one another. They were so intent on not talking to one another that even the feeble attempts at conversation by Agustín and Félix ended up in vain. Bruno managed to keep Sirius at the table long enough for him to have a light meal before the British wizard vanished back behind the door of the ‘research room’ as Mirabel had dubbed it.

She, Camilo, Antonio, Dolores, Luisa and Isabela prepared chocolate santafereño that evening and waited for the voices to quiet down to bring it to the research room. They opened the door just enough to peek inside and they found Sirius with his face hidden in Bruno’s lap, their uncle’s hands stroking his dark hair. It could have seemed a compromising position to the less innocent eyes, but they immediately saw the way Sirius’s shoulders were shaking, his quiet sobs and the soft comforting whisper of Bruno’s voice as he tried to calm him down.

“Sana, sana, colita de rana, Si no sanas hoy, Sanarás mañana…”

Mirabel found comfort in the gentle chant, even if it was not meant for her. Now that she’d been around her Tío Bruno, many vague memories from before he left were becoming clearer, including Bruno singing to her once she was four and had scraped her knee.

Isabela and Luisa had told her how they’d all been playing, and Camilo had been a little too rough as little boys often were, and Mirabel had fallen. The adults had all been in town working while the children took a rare break from their duties, but they’d all forgotten that Bruno, who had already become a hermit by then, isolating himself in his room for days at a time, was home at that time. In hindsight, Luisa told Mirabel, when they’d found him going down the stairs and told him that Mirabel was hurt, he wasn’t surprised but quickly took care of Mirabel’s wound and her tears.

They had all gathered around Bruno’s armchair in a patch of sunlight, Mirabel and Camilo on his lap and the older girls perched around him as he told them a story – until the rest of the adults had come home and Abuela had taken one look at them and reprimanded Bruno for keeping the children from their chores the one time he was not holed up in his room.

Isabela’s tale had brought Bruno’s pale, disheartened face at the time to Mirabel’s mind and she remembered the defeated, sad smile he’d given them as he retreated in his room again with a gentle wave of the hand.

The memory prompted her to jump to her feet, seek out her uncle with a loud call of "Tío!” and squeeze him in a big hug. He’d jumped a good three feet in the air at her shout, but he’d still responded to the hug, even if he didn't get her impromptu need for closeness.

The grandchildren of Pedro Madrigal kept quiet and waited for Sirius’s sobs to subside before they knocked on the door.

Sirius looked up sharply and the girls pretended to look away as he brushed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“We made chocolate santafereño,” Mirabel took the lead as Dolores approached the table with the tray, “I don’t know if it can help but –”

“Of course it can!” piped in Camilo, bursting through the door, passing in front of his sister and his cousins, “Chocolate always helps!”

“Mh-hm!” Antonio nodded fervently from his spot on his brother’s shoulders.

“I hope that was okay?” Isabela asked gently.

Sirius looked stunned, as if he couldn’t believe they were being kind to him. Bruno, though, grinned sheepishly at his nieces and nephews, “Gracias, niños,” he said, “Of course that’s okay. It’s very thoughtful of you.”

Sirius’s eyes fell on Mirabel, who offered him a big smile as Luisa served the hot chocolate to everyone, and a soft smile formed on his lips, “Yes, thank you, treasure, that is very thoughtful of you all indeed, and very welcome.”

“So – what’s gotten you so upset?”

“Camilo!” Dolores swatted her hand at him.

“It’s none of our business!” Mirabel reprimanded her cousin, but her eyes snapped to Sirius, making it obvious that she’d chastised Camilo, but she was curious too.

In spite of himself, Sirius’s smile widened, “I don’t mind,” he said, and snorted when they all huddled closer to the table, ready to listen to him, “Remus and I hit a dead end in our research, and I have to do something I really don’t want to in order to move on. Remus knows what that means for me, but he doesn’t understand it well.”

“They said a lot of things they didn’t mean to each other while fighting,” Bruno summarised quietly.

Sirius sighed and sipped the hot chocolate, “Oh, we meant it, both of us,” he said bitterly, “He brought back something terrible I did when I was your age,” he told Mirabel and Camilo, “We both thought we were past it, but it turns out we weren’t. We can’t go back to how things were before with just a flick of our wands, no matter how much we would like to. Whatever people believe, Muggles and wizards alike, magic doesn’t solve all problems.”

“How bad can it be?” asked Camilo, “This thing you did?”

“Let’s just say I was a bit of a prick when I was your age,” Sirius said, and Bruno chastised him for his language.

Sirius wouldn’t say more on the subject, so Mirabel and the others made it their mission to help Bruno cheer him up.

Between Isabela and Luisa asking about Sirius’s homeland of England, Dolores asking about magic in general, Antonio insisting that he wanted to know what other kind of magical animals there were, and Camilo and Mirabel asking what Sirius’s godson Harry was like, by the time Julieta came to call them all for dinner Sirius was laughing again.

That evening, mollified by the children and the cheerful dinner courtesy of Kreacher, Abuela, Julieta and Pepa (who had become sort of a team of their own), Remus and Sirius stood in front of each other and Sirius frostily nodded at him, and the tension in Lupin’s shoulders was gone immediately.

The Madrigals had tried to understand Sirius and Remus’s brand of magic for a while but between rebuilding Casita, Sirius’s moods and several complications including the family’s own issues, they’d decided they needed a quiet time to learn a bit about it and that was not now.

Even with Sirius and Remus’s magic, the town was destroyed and there was nothing left of Casita but debris. It would take a while to clean up and even to put up new wards – as Sirius and Remus called them – around the Encanto. They’d never made wards so big, and it would be dangerous to do so without precise calculations.

That evening just after dinner, the Madrigals watched as Sirius gave Kreacher instructions. For the rest of the evening, they noticed that even though Sirius pretended to smile, he was in a funny mood. By the time they all went to bed, Bruno and Remus sat next to him, and it seemed that no longer being at odds with his friend soothed Sirius’s agitated spirit.

*

The Madrigals were happy to see that Sirius’s mood had greatly improved the morning after once they all gathered for breakfast but didn’t exactly know what to do when they noticed the bottle of aguardiente in his hand and the full glass in his other hand.

“Good morning, everyone!” Sirius beamed at them, far too brightly.

Julieta and Pepa shared a look, then glanced at Bruno, who blushed at having the whole family rely on him to address the situation. Out of the corner of his eyes, Bruno could see his nieces and nephews looking at him too and wasn’t it odd to be expected to call the shots?

“Er – Sirius, isn’t it too early in the morning to drink?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Sirius replied with a blinding smile that would have had Bruno’s knees melt if it wasn’t clearly so badly hiding something sinister behind it, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, it’s fine!”

“What’s going on here?”

They all parted to make way for Remus to enter the kitchen.

“Moony!” Sirius grinned, “Want a night cap?”

Remus took a look at his friend, scowled, walked to him, snatched the bottle away and slapped him upside the head, “It’s eight o’clock in the morning!”

But before Sirius could reply or Remus could go on reprimanding him, Kreacher the House Elf appeared with a loud crack holding a big, rectangular package.

“Kreacher has brought Master Orion, as Master Sirius requested.”

“Great, thanks, Kreacher!”

Sirius gulped the glass of liquor quickly and stood, stumbling for a moment. He grinned dangerously, and took the package from Kreacher, “Excuse me, everyone, I need to have a nice little chat with my dear old dad!”

Remus’s face changed instantly, and he looked apprehensive, “The relative is your father?”

Sirius, who was almost out of the door at that point, the big package in one hand and the bottle of liquor in the other, glared at Remus with terrifying intensity. He turned on his heels, slammed the door shut behind him and left the Madrigals looking at Remus, completely out of their depth.

Once he was out of sight, Remus passed a hand on his face, sighing deeply.

“Ok, sooo — that was weird, right?” everyone looked at Camilo, who shrugged, “I mean, the man talked to a – that looked like a picture frame of some kind?”

“Kreacher brought the portrait of Master Orion for Master Sirius to talk to,” Kreacher said, crossing his arms, “Kreacher likes young Master Camilo just fine, but he won’t allow anyone to be disrespectful of the House of Black!”

Yeah, that was a thing, now, apparently. Since Bruno, Abuela and the Madrigals had showed enough kindness to Kreacher that even Sirius was less stern with him, the House Elf had softened enough that he even admitted to Abuela that he liked children, especially polite ones like Madrigal children. Ironically, it seemed the person he was still a bit suspicious about was Sirius himself (and Remus, by extension). He kept a close eye on Camilo, though.

“Too much like unruly Master Sirius, that one, Miss Pepa, Kreacher knows a troublemaker when he sees one,” he told Pepa disapprovingly, after one too many bags of flour placed over the dining room door.

They all glanced at Kreacher, dumbfounded, “Que?” Camilo asked.

“That’s not what he meant, Kreacher,” Remus said, “He just doesn’t know about the portraits of our world.”

“And no one wants to disrespect Sirius or the – er – House of Black?” Bruno came to his aid, glancing at him to see if he’d said the right thing, “We all lo — er – like Sirius very much!”

Remus couldn’t help but snort at Bruno’s slip up and he watched the other man as he glanced towards where Sirius had disappeared.

“You’re lucky,” he said softly, turning his eyes in the same direction.

They all turned to look at him, “How so?” Abuela asked politely.

“He looked to his family for help for you. It’s the last thing he would ever do, and he did it for you,” Remus said, “I am sure Kreacher can confirm that Sirius always hated his family, isn’t that right, Kreacher?”

The House Elf hesitated, sending Remus a suspicious look but then crossed his arms and closed his eyes, “Master Sirius was an arrogant boy with his unruly ways – he rejected all of the teachings of his family and ran away and broke the Mistress’ heart.”

“Ran away?” asked Abuela, “From what Kreacher said, I had an inkling that he didn’t have a childhood that – er –” she glanced at Kreacher, not wanting to offend him with the wrong word, “A calm relationship with his parents.”

Remus nodded, but Kreacher was the one who answered, “Master Sirius was sixteen when he ran away from home,” he said, “The Mistress and Master Orion disowned Master Sirius for it, as they should have.”

The Madrigals would have clearly asked for more, but Kreacher looked mutinous, and Remus held out his hand, “Let’s just say that it says a lot that Sirius went to his blood family for help, a family that brought him a lot of pain.”

Kreacher frowned deeply but didn’t add anything more, though it looked like he wanted to.

They all flinched in unison when Sirius’s voice exploded from somewhere nearby, but they didn’t have time to investigate before a door was slammed loudly and the shouts were muffled, though no less furious.

They stared at the closed door for the whole time he was behind it. They heard muffled shouts and loud crashing of things and different lights framed the door. And even flames?
It felt like hours but finally Sirius emerged from the room, wild-haired and wild-eyed, and leaned against the door, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Merlin, I hope he suffered a lot before he died,” he sneered, his voice hoarse from all the shouting, “Pathetic bastard.”

He looked tired and as if he’d grown decades older in the span of ten minutes.

Bruno immediately stepped forward, “Sirius –”

Sirius looked up, frown dissipating immediately. His face softened at once seeing him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he moved towards Bruno.

“Kreacher, take Father’s portrait away.”

“As Master wishes.”

The House Elf disappeared under the curious looks the Madrigal children sent towards the room in hope of getting a glimpse of the portrait of Sirius’s father.

“Please, don’t,” Sirius said tiredly, seeing their curiosity, “I don’t want you children exposed to this prick. He is as unpleasant as he is dead.”

They were all worried about him, but Bruno’s face said it for all of them. Sirius stepped to his side quickly, softening right away, and took a deep, liberating breath as he joined them all at the table in the dining room when Kreacher served them breakfast.

Remus slipped him a cup of tea with honey and a bit of that lavender coloured liquid.

“It didn’t go well, I take it?”

Sirius glared at him, “You knew it wouldn’t go well,” he took a sip of the tea and looked up at Remus, “Did you put some of that expired Essence of Calmness?”

“It’s still good enough and it would just make you sleepy at worst.”

“I’m sorry you did something you didn’t want to do on our account,” Bruno said softly, next to him.

Sirius softened, “I don’t mind.”

“Clearly you do,” Abuela interjected, “Please, we do not want you to be distressed for our sake.”

Sirius stared intently at her, then sipped the cup of tea slowly, “It is the only way,” he said finally, without looking at them, “The bloke is a paranoid, bigoted, sociopathic blood-purist but he is – he was an authority in warding. I grew up with him,” the mere thought disgusted him, they could all see that, “So I know the theory behind it all but protecting a place like this — we need precise calculations and it’s best to have an expert on the matter or the consequences will be dire. I remember that much from his psychotic ramblings.”
He paused Bruno scooted closer to him, his hand finding its way discreetly on Sirius’s arm.

“Padfoot,” Remus called.

Sirius’s eyes were very shiny, “It doesn’t matter.”

They weren’t sure what he meant by that, but he was clearly lost in thought.

Still, his head inched towards Bruno, who was looking at him with large deep green eyes, and that seemed to ground him.

“Still,” Sirius said as he forcefully took his eyes away from Bruno, “It’s good and bad news.”

He went on to explain how the new wards would have to work.

It was difficult for the Madrigals to understand, even with Remus’s helpful input in a subject that Sirius found hard to explain to a bunch of people ignorant of magic. He spoke of potions, blood magic and family magic, but specified that to reactivate family magic it meant creating connections between the family, recreating broken connections. Those were good news as they all had to start again together, so they were already planning on that.

“I will need you three,” he told Bruno, Julieta and Pepa, “It was your father who made the first wards, and his blood is stronger in you.”

“Wouldn’t one of them be enough, though?” Remus asked, then spoke to Bruno, Julieta and Pepa, “Who’s the oldest of you?”

“That’s Julieta –” started Pepa.

“Oh, no,” Sirius said, grinning wolfishly at him, “We need all three of them.”

“Are you sure?” Remus insisted, “Usually these things go with the oldest —”

“Not in the case of twins,” Sirius interrupted, then raised his eyebrows, “Or triplets.”

Remus finally understood and looked at Bruno, Pepa and Julieta with newfound interest, though they looked confused, “Ooohhh! Really! Triplets!?” he breathed.

“You didn’t know?” asked Pepa.

“No!”

“You probably told him when he was too sleepy, bloke tends to shut down his brain when he’s tired.”

“Shut your trap, Sirius,” Remus retorted, “Oh, that’s amazing and very lucky in this case!”

“Er – what does that mean?” asked Mirabel, “Why is it important that they are triplets?”

“The number three is a lucky magical number, not the most powerful, that’s number seven, but still. It is a famously lucky number, and it is significant in many cultures or religions, like the Christianity. It clearly is significant in your family,” Remus said, “And multiple births in the wizarding world are said to bring newfound magic in the family.”

Camilo made a face, “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, “How many of the girls are older than you?”

“Three. Isa, Lola and Luisa.”

“How many cousins do you have?”

“Three.”

“Between you and your siblings, how many children do your parents have?”

“Three.”

“Very good. And how many grown men are there in your family, Camilo? Not counting your good self, of course.”

“Ha! I knew it was bullshit!” Camilo gave him a cheeky grin, “There’s five grown men, in the family!”

Sirius blinked, his earlier triumph replaced by bewilderment, “How –?”

Félix grinned, “Ha, kid’s right and he’s got you, he’s got you good –”

Bruno elbowed Sirius, “You don’t get it, do you?”

Sirius didn’t and neither did Remus. Abuela smiled gently, “Camilo is rightly counting you two, so he’s right. Your theory of the number three, fascinating as it is, falls down when it comes to the grown men in the family.”

Remus beamed, “That’s very kind,” he said, “Thank you, Camilo, but it’s a bit of stretch to call Sirius a grown man.”

“Go throw yourself from the fucking bell tower, Moony.”

“I see your point, Remus,” said Abuela with great dignity, “You have to work on your language, Sirius, especially around the children.”

Sirius was still bewildered but Bruno smiled at him, and he smiled back.