The Son of the Stars

☆

Sirius stared out the window of the metrobus, wedged between a stroller with a small toddler in it and a businesswoman whose briefcase knocked into Sirius’ knee every time the bus jostled. They were riding through Central Park, and the trees cast a dappled light over the pavement as they towered over them from atop stone walls on either side of the road. When the three of them had gotten on the bus, Sirius had purposely shifted away from Effie and Monty, worming his way into the crowd standing in the aisle, so he could be as alone as one could possibly be on New York City’s public transit. 

Effie and Monty hadn’t given him any more explanation after they had left the museum. To be fair, Sirius hadn’t asked them anything, mainly because he was worried that he knew the answer. He could put two and two together on his own. Effie and Monty thought he had somehow provoked Kimberly the— whatever she was. Probably because she knew he laughed at her presentation at the museum, or didn’t think she gave a good enough tour, and therefore tried to rip him to shreds. Regardless, the Potters didn’t want to deal with Sirius causing trouble for them during the summer, so they were sending him off to some sleep-away camp for the counselors there to handle.

Sirius couldn’t even really blame them. He had to admit that he was more trouble than he was worth. Sure, the trouble usually found him rather than the other way around, but as he had gotten older, it had escalated from small issues like one girl getting soaked by rain to larger scale events, like the time he had tried to plug in his computer in class to give a presentation and at the exact same moment the power to the entire third floor to his school decided to go out. Now, Sirius had outdone himself and gotten their tour guide struck by lightning, as well as being found by museum security under a shattered skylight and surrounded by dozens of millenia-old, now water-damaged, artifacts, at the largest art museum in the Americas.

But he didn’t want Effie and Monty to be responsible for his problems. They deserved a break, considering how much they did for him in all other aspects of his life. Sirius just wished that he could go to a camp like James, instead of whatever backwoods place Effie and Monty could find that would still be accepting participants at the beginning of the summer. Ultimately, though, he would take being sent away for a lonely, miserable summer any day over what would’ve faced him in the Black household. 

Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He tried as much as possible not to think about the first eleven years of his life, pushing them down along with the bile that burned in his throat when the memories broke through the walls in his mind. His knuckles whitened on the rail he was using to steady himself. 

Sirius Orion Black!

Sirius winced, the voice in his mind like the tip of a knife. 

“Sirius Orion Black,” his mother hissed into his ear, bent over his right shoulder with her hand in an iron grip on his left. “We gave you that name for a reason. A bright, shining star. A name that represents our family, our ancestry, where we originate among the constellations. And we expect you to live up to it.” 

His mother glanced down at the book open before him, the tiny text sprawling across the yellowed pages. “Tell me what Caesar is discussing here.” She pointed to the beginning of a block of text. 

To Sirius, the words were drifting in and out of focus. He couldn’t concentrate, even without his mother’s nails digging grooves into his skin underneath his shirt. He could barely muddle through the title, which read Commentarii de bello Gallico IV. 

Sirius willed his brain to work with him, but it was like his mind was fighting against him. No part of him wanted to read this language. He focused everything he had on the first few words. Ea quae secuta est… Sirius squinted at the last word. Hiem ? Sirius didn’t think Caesar was talking about yawning or singing, which was the translation his mind supplied for the word in front of him. 

The tense silence that stretched in front of them was broken by a small voice to Sirius’ left. 

“Mum, I— I think I understand this passage. I can try—”

Walburga’s black eyes snapped up to meet Regulus’ gaze. Almost immediately, Regulus broke eye contact, staring back at his own book. 

“Sirius will translate for us,” Walburga insisted in a cold voice. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes, as if this would help them focus on the words on the page. Hieme, he realized. Winter. 

“Caesar is talking about the time of year when… a Germanic tribe emigrated from their lands,” he said slowly. “The Usipetes. They left in the winter of the year when Gnaeus Pompeius— Pompey— and Crassus were consuls.” 

“Which was?” Walburga asked sharply.

Sirius’ eyes flicked over the page quickly, knowing the answer was not going to come to him from anything in this book. “I’m— I think—” 

“Regulus?” Walburga cut him off.

“The year fifty-five BCE,” Regulus said in a small voice, not meeting Sirius’ eye. 

Walburga met him with only silence, which meant that his answer was correct. She turned back to Sirius. “If you had actually been spending your time translating, you would know that the Usipetes are not the focus of this passage. Caesar writes about the Suebi, another Germanic tribe, for the majority of the chapter.” She stood up to her full height, towering over Sirius and Regulus. “Your lack of dedication to this is an embarrassment, to myself and your father, to your family, and to yourself.” 

She gestured back to the book in front of him. “Get back to work.”

With that, Walburga swept out of the room, leaving Regulus and Sirius in a tense silence. Sirius felt hot, angry tears well in his eyes. He swallowed in an effort to rid himself of the itch in his throat and glared at his little brother. “A lot of help you were,” he snapped. 

Regulus looked taken aback, but his confusion was quickly replaced with fury. “What do you expect from me?”

“I don’t know, some support? Back me up?” Sirius said in disbelief. “I thought we were supposed to be in this together.”

“Oh, I see,” Regulus said. “What would you like me to do next time? Pretend like I don’t know the answer? Not read it at all? Start arguing about how this is useless and I don’t want to be shut in here learning a dead language? I’m sure that would go over well.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so eager to please her,” Sirius retorted. “You were jumping at the chance to answer all of her questions.”

Regulus set his jaw, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not going to put myself in the line of fire if I can avoid it. There’s no reason for that.”

Sirius let out a short laugh and turned away, trying to ignore how that stung. Because they both knew that sometimes, yes, there was a reason. 

The bus came to an abrupt stop, jostling the passengers and jolting Sirius out of his reverie. He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to dispel the image of his brother’s face that still swam at the front of his mind. 

Throughout their childhoods, especially when they were younger, Sirius and Regulus would make mistakes. They misbehaved in the same way most young children do— drawing on the walls or tracking mud in the house. As they grew older, their parents became less and less patient with their children. Stern words became angry ones, and talking-tos evolved into screaming matches.

Sirius was five the first time he decided to take a blow for his brother. They were playing with a ball that they had promised would stay outside, in their father’s study in their old house in California. It only took one errant throw from the younger Black brother that Sirius couldn’t catch, colliding straight with a vase on Orion’s bookshelf, an old Black family heirloom. Falling as if in slow motion, it hit the floor with a deafening crash and shattered. 

Like it was second nature, Sirius had walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the ball. His right heel came down on a sharp piece of the broken vase, but he barely registered the sharp pain. He met Regulus’ eyes and pointed to the door behind him, the one that led to the sitting room far away from the stairs, which he could hear footsteps thundering up. Regulus hesitated for a moment, then turned on his heel and ran. 

When Walburga and Orion burst into the room, they found one boy surrounded by shards of terracotta, a gash on the bottom of one of his bare feet, with a smile on his face and a ball in his hand.

Sirius knew his role as an older brother was to protect Regulus from anything in the big, bad, scary world that might ever cause him harm. Sirius’ resolve never wavered, even if those scary things were coming from within the walls of their own home. He and Regulus came to an agreement after that day, never spoken aloud, but mutually understood. If Sirius tried to take the blame, Regulus never indicated anything to the contrary, always retreating into the background when their parents arrived to exact judgment. 

When Sirius was six, Regulus five, without much warning, their parents sat them down and told them they were moving. They were to leave that night, and had three hours to pack a suitcase of only the essentials. Sirius never learned why their departure was so urgent, but once they reached their new home in Fairmount, New York, their parents’ demeanor took a turn. If there had been any semblance of patience left for their children, it was left in California. 

This was also when their lessons had really taken off. Their parents had started instilling the importance of discipline and honor in them from an early age, which for them involved learning Latin and educating them on history. After the move, though, Sirius and Regulus were expected to spend most of their free time with these lessons, plus new physical exercise regimens. They would sometimes see the children in their neighborhood laughing and playing in the streets from their study’s window, noses buried deep in old Latin tomes. 

After a while, Sirius started falling behind. He was never good at Latin, but he reached a point around the age of eight where he stopped progressing altogether. It was like his brain was rejecting the language entirely. It didn’t help that this was around the same time that Sirius was diagnosed with dyslexia, which sent his mother into a rage that lasted several weeks and involved Sirius being forbidden to leave his bedroom for anything other than school. His lessons doubled in frequency. The physical training never really took either. Unlike his father, who was broad-shouldered and burly, Sirius stayed slender and lithe. He gained strength, but he could never dream of achieving Orion’s threatening build.

As Sirius struggled, Regulus seemed to thrive. He started answering the questions that Sirius stuttered at and spent extra hours in the library reading as much as he could, as well as training harder and longer. It felt like both a slap in the face and a relief. Sirius didn’t have to worry about Regulus anymore, because he was finally doing well. But as he fell further behind, he felt more and more hurt that Regulus accepted the praise and approval of his parents instead of standing in solidarity with his brother. Regulus was the only person in his life that Sirius had ever felt like he could understand, that he thought was on his side. 

In the Black family, any form of unconditional, selfless love was beaten into something ugly, envious, and angry. Sirius hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help that his feelings towards his brother twisted from protection and loyalty to bitter resentment. 

Sirius wasn’t sure what he would have done if James Potter had never come into his life. He and Sirius hit it off immediately, inseparable and notorious among their elementary school teachers. Even as a child, James was charming, outgoing, and loving to a fault. He had an uncanny ability of knowing exactly what Sirius needed from him at any given moment. He could be exuberant and full of energy, his sunny disposition brightening Sirius’ mood the moment he walked in the door. But he could also be reserved and patient, listening to Sirius as he slowly but surely let his walls down, telling James about his fears, his hurt, his anger. 

Sirius’ vision blurred as tears threatened to fall. If only James was here with him. 

He blinked away the tears, his eyes refocusing on the scene outside of the bus window. They had left Central Park and were stopped in traffic outside of the entrance to the Museum of Natural History. Through the vehicles passing them on the other side of the street, Sirius watched as crowds of New Yorkers milled past.

The benches lining the sidewalk across from Sirius were largely empty, except for one. The three women sitting in line caught Sirius’ eye. They were extremely old, with wizened faces and leathery skin. Their hair was all the same shade of stark white, and they all wore plain brown dresses that looked about as old as they were. The woman in the middle held a large basket, full of sky-blue yarn that stood out against the women’s drab appearances. The other two were holding golden needles and were hard at work knitting, the one on the right making a sweater and the one on the left what looked like a hat. They were all looking intently down at their projects, their gnarled hands working the yarn at impressive speeds.

As Sirius looked on, the one in the middle turned her head up to meet his eye. Her gaze was the same color of piercing blue as the yarn in her lap. 

Slightly unnerved, Sirius turned towards where Effie and Monty had been standing. He had lost track of them as people had entered and exited the bus, but he had a bad feeling about this. It felt similar to when Kimberly had approached him at the Met, like something was about to go very wrong. 

Effie and Monty had found a seat close to the door. They were deep in hushed conversation, which Sirius had a sinking feeling had to do with him. Neither of them seemed to notice that anything was amiss.

Sirius glanced at the people next to him, to see if anyone at all on the bus was paying attention. The majority of the passengers were looking down at their phones, or gazing out the windows with a nonchalant expression on their faces. No one seemed to be paying much attention to their surroundings whatsoever. Even those who were looking in the general direction of the women didn’t seem to be alarmed. 

When Sirius looked back at the women, all three were looking at him. Their hands had stilled, their needles clasped in their bony hands. Slowly, the woman in the middle reached into her basket and brought out a large pair of golden scissors. The edges glinted in the sunlight. 

The woman slid the string in her lap between the two blades of the shears, and brought them together with a resounding snip. The sound was surprisingly loud, loud enough that Sirius could hear it from inside the bus. He felt suddenly cold, when just a moment ago he had been sweating on the crowded, stuffy bus. In the distance, Sirius could hear a low rumble of thunder.

“Sirius?” 

Effie had glanced up at the sound of the thunder, looking at him with her eyebrows knitted together. “Is everything all right?”

When Sirius turned back to look outside, the bench was empty. 

☆

When they reached Penn Station, Effie and Monty went straight to one of the car rental counters. They ended up in the last car they had available, a clunky old Volvo that whined every time Monty went over fifty miles per hour. 

Sirius wasn’t sure why it was so urgent to go wherever they were going. Effie and Monty seemed uneasy at the prospect of Sirius staying even one more night with them. He also didn’t know why they seemed like they already knew where they wanted to take him. If they were so sure, why couldn’t they tell him anything?

They were in the car now, rattling down I-495. The tinny radio was quietly playing Fleetwood Mac, almost entirely drowned out by the groans and squeaks of the car. 

Sirius’ forehead rested on the cool window glass, looking out at the landscape passing by. The high-rises of New York City became tall green trees lining the highway. Over time, the huge interstate narrowed and narrowed, until it became a simple two-lane road lined with small houses and convenience stores. 

As they drove further east, clouds started to gather in front of them. The sky darkened to a menacing gray-blue, and raindrops started to patter on the windshield. It gave Sirius goosebumps, even though it was still quite warm in the car. He felt tense, like he could feel the electricity in the air from the brewing storm, the potential energy waiting to be unleashed. Sirius had never minded storms before— he even found comfort in watching the flashes of lightning and hearing thunder crash in the distance— but this felt different. After the events of the day, he didn’t feel like this storm meant something particularly good.

He was deep in thought about tour guides with flaming hair and old women with golden scissors, that it took him a surprisingly long time to realize where they were going. Still, when they passed an exit sign for Old Montauk Highway, a bulb went off in Sirius’ head.

“Are we going to Montauk?” he asked.

Effie and Monty exchanged a glance. 

“Not quite,” Effie said. “The camp is close to Montauk.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. That sounded very familiar, a little too familiar to be a coincidence.

“Are we…” He wasn’t sure whether to say it out loud. “Are we going to James’ camp?”

Effie paused, then nodded. “We think it’s the best place for you to be right now.”

Sirius felt a combination of relief, confusion, and frustration. He wouldn’t be alone. He would be with his best friend, finally, at the elusive summer camp that James had said so much and yet nothing at all about. But why now? Why, after he had damaged private property and probably destroyed irreplaceable artifacts, was he getting what felt so much like a reward?

“But I thought it was difficult to get in there,” he said. “Why would they accept me now? Especially with no warning?”

Effie pressed her lips together. “It’s hard to explain, Sirius,” she said regretfully. “We really aren’t the best people to be telling you about this. Once we get to camp, I’m sure they’ll make everything clear.”

Sirius’ stomach felt like a pit. He was tired of this. Never getting a straight answer about what was happening, where he was being sent, what he had done. The past few hours had been one question after another without any semblance of an answer. 

“Please.” Sirius’ voice broke, and he stopped to swallow the emotion before continuing. “Can you just— can you tell me something? Anything? I don’t understand why this is happening to me. Any of it.”

Effie was quiet for a long moment, the only sound breaking the silence being the raindrops striking the sedan with renewed force. 

“We always thought the reason strange things happened to our family was because of James,” she finally conceded, talking less to Sirius than to herself. “Even when I had doubts, when you came home and told us about that girl and the rain, I ignored it. It seemed so unlikely that I chalked it up to a coincidence. And Sirius, for that, for my ignorance, I am truly sorry. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, because I knew what it meant.”

She shook her head slightly, as if breaking from a reverie, and turned back in her seat to face Sirius. 

“You know that James is adopted,” she continued. “We’ve always told you that we know nothing about his birth parents. And this wasn’t entirely a lie— we never really learned about his biological mother. But his father…” She took a breath. “His father was the one who entrusted James to us, when he was just born. He came to our door with a tiny infant and told us that his mother had died in childbirth, and that he knew that we would be the parents that James needed. But he also told us that raising James as our son would come with its challenges, more so than any other child. He warned us that the time would come where James might bring dangerous people— or dangerous creatures— to our doorstep. He promised to give us as much of his protection as possible, and made our home undetectable to the forces that might try to hurt his son. And finally, he gave us the address to a summer camp that he said would introduce James to people like him, would teach him about his parentage, and would give him the skills to protect himself.”

Effie’s eyes glistened as they met Sirius’ own. “You’ve been safe under our roof because of his protection. And I’ve been trying to deny what I think I already knew to be true. But today, at the museum, with the lightning… I think you could be in a lot more danger than we ever thought possible.”

“Why?” Sirius asked. “Why does the lightning matter? Just because it happened to strike and kill that— thing—”

Effie shook her head. “It wasn’t a coincidence. I think that lightning came… from you.”

Sirius’ frustration was building. He still didn’t understand what Effie meant. “How does any of that relate to James’ birth parents? What does his father have to do with anything?”

Effie took a deep breath, as if she was steeling her nerves. She set her jaw and looked straight into Sirius’ eyes. “Sirius, James’ birth father… he was a g—”

BOOM!

Sirius had no time to process the events that occurred in the next three seconds. He saw a great, hulking shape in the corner of his eye, emerging from the tall trees beside the highway and barreling toward the right side of the car with incredible speed. He heard the crumple of metal, and suddenly the entire car was flying off the highway into the woods on their left. It careened into the slick mud on the shoulder of the road, skidding for about fifteen feet before settling in a small ditch.

Sirius’ vision was blurred, his head pounding, but he was alive. He could hear Monty’s groans of pain in front of him, and in the edge of his vision, Effie was stirring in the front seat. She turned to look at him, starting to say, “Sirius, are you—” Her voice caught in her throat as she fixed her gaze on something behind Sirius, her face turning white as a sheet.

He raised his head to look out of the car back at what had attacked them. Behind them, a giant being was approaching. It looked like an enormous man with a giant head. He was limping slightly from the impact with their car, but was making his way towards them. As he emerged from the sheets of rain thundering down around them, Sirius could make out two enormous horns sprouting from his forehead.

In the back of Sirius’ mind, something faintly registered. Professor Dumbledore’s words about a king of Crete failing to perform a sacrifice of a bull, and the gods’ revenge involving his wife. 

But that’s just a myth, Sirius thought as he trudged up the hill. It can’t be real. 

Although, his mind argued back, you did fight a vampire-slash-donkey-slash-tour guide today. Who’s to say what can be real?

“Sirius.” Any semblance of fear or pain was gone from Effie’s voice, replaced with steely determination. “Get out of the car.”

Sirius didn’t need telling twice. He pried open his door and tumbled out of the car. Effie had rounded the car and was helping an ashen-faced Monty out of his seat, who was barely hanging on to consciousness. When he got up, Sirius saw that his left leg was twisted at a nasty angle. 

Effie wedged her shoulder underneath her husband’s, supporting his weight. Sirius could see rivulets of blood streaming down her face from a gash on her forehead, mixing with the raindrops. 

“You need to get up there,” Effie said, pointing up the hill. There, a large tree loomed over them, bigger than any Sirius had ever seen. “Once you reach that tree, you’ll be inside the property line, and he won’t be able to follow you. Go towards the big farmhouse and get someone— anyone— to help you.”

“But what about you?” Sirius wasn’t going to leave them behind.

“He isn’t coming after us!” Effie shouted. “He’s after you. He isn’t going to attack us without you here.”

Sirius almost believed her until he saw the resignation in her eyes.

“No. No!” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you behind. That thing is going to kill you!”

“We don’t have time for this!” Effie insisted.

Sirius looked back at the monster, who was slowly gaining on them. 

“You’re right. We don’t.” He stepped forward, lifting Monty’s other arm over his back. “Let’s go.” 

Effie sighed, defeated, but didn’t argue. Together, they bore Monty’s weight as they started climbing the hill. 

Sirius glanced backward a few times as they trekked through the trees. The creature looked as if he couldn’t clearly see his path forward, crashing into trees and taking a zig-zag path towards them. He would gain on them for a moment, but then lose sight of his targets, allowing them to keep their distance. Sirius silently thanked the heavy rain for keeping them hidden from view.

Finally, they emptied into a clearing, the large tree just thirty feet ahead. Sirius picked up the pace, dragging Monty and Effie along toward the property line. 

Once they reached the tree, Sirius let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Effie and Monty, only to see Effie’s mouth set in a grim line. 

“What are you waiting for?” Effie said. “Go. I’ve got him.” She nodded at her husband.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked incredulously. “Why would you carry him yourself down this hill?”

Effie smiled ruefully. “We can’t come with you. Mortals can’t cross the property line to camp. All we can do is try to distract him while you go and get help.”

Dread settled like a weight in Sirius’ stomach. “What? No! I can’t let you do this.”

“We don’t have a choice, love,” Effie replied. “But you do. Past that tree, you’ll be safe. He can’t follow you either.”

“But—” Sirius felt like ice was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t let anything happen to Effie or Monty. Besides the fact that they were his best friend’s parents, they were the closest thing to a true mother and father he had ever had.

“Go,” Effie insisted again. “Go to the farmhouse. Find Chiron. And tell James—” Her voice broke, and for the first time Sirius saw the fear written on her face.

As if on cue, Sirius heard branches crack behind them as the beast burst into the clearing. He was close enough now that Sirius could see the hate in his eyes, which were trained on Sirius. The creature huffed, lowering his head like he was ready to charge. 

Monty, who had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the entire walk up the hill, suddenly let go of Sirius’ shoulder. His injured leg dug into the ground, and with a grunt of pain he took hold of Sirius’ forearm and shoved. Sirius stumbled backward, nearly tripping over one of the tree’s roots. He was inside the property line. Monty, having used the last of his strength, gave him a wink and a crooked smile, and crumpled to the ground before him.

The monster barreled towards the three of them, closing in on Effie. She had stepped in front of her husband, feet planted in the mud, defiantly staring down the beast.

Sirius could only watch as the creature’s hand closed around Effie’s neck, lifting her off the ground. He stooped down to pick up Monty’s limp form, whose limbs swung like a rag doll in the air. 

Effie’s eyes caught Sirius’ as she choked out, “Run!”

And at the same time, the monster clenched both of his fists together. Effie and Monty’s bodies seemed to dissolve into a bright golden light. The glow illuminated the clearing for one brief moment. Then it faded, and both of the Potters were gone. 

“No!” 

Sirius had never been especially rational when he was angry. Regardless of the trouble it would land him in, he was not the type of person to think before he acted. Now, though, he stared down the monster with a surprising amount of clarity. Any remaining fear turned to raw fury, and he had only one thought in his mind: That thing killed my parents.

He stepped forward, out of the shadows of the pine tree. The bull’s eyes trained on him once again, and he began to charge. Sirius stood his ground, waiting for the right moment. 

At the very last second, as the creature bore down on him, Sirius jumped into the air and grasped a low-hanging branch. He pulled his body up and out of the way as the bull’s head passed under him, his horns colliding with the tree’s trunk. The impact resonated through the branch Sirius was holding, forcing him to let go. Sirius twisted in midair, dropping squarely onto the monster’s enormous head. 

The bull untangled himself from the tree and backed up, trying to shake Sirius off. Sirius grasped one of the large horns protruding from the beast’s forehead. He wrapped his legs around the bull’s neck and held on with all his effort. The creature threw his head in every possible direction, grunting and huffing, but Sirius maintained his grip.

At his first opportunity, when the bull stilled for a second, Sirius shifted all of his weight backward, lifting himself off of the creature’s back and into the air, and pulled the bull’s horn backward with every ounce of strength he had. With a CRACK!, the horn broke off the bull’s head, and the force threw Sirius backward as he tumbled off of the monster and into the mud. 

The bull roared in pain and anger, stumbling forward before rounding on Sirius. He charged toward him as Sirius scrambled to sit up. 

Sirius found his footing just as the monster reached him. He rolled to the side, but not before the monster reached out his hand and slashed at him, his nails digging into Sirius’ left side. Sirius grit his teeth, pushing away the pain blooming from the wound. He turned around as the bull rounded on him again.

Instincts that he didn’t even know he had kicked in, and he tucked and rolled underneath the belly of the creature. As the beast passed over his head, Sirius thrust the tip of the horn in his hand into the bull’s abdomen. 

With a scream, the beast keeled over onto its side, the horn still embedded in its stomach. Sirius watched as it disintegrated, just like the creature at the museum, turning to dust that mixed with the rain falling around them. The only thing left behind was the giant, curved horn, laying in the dirt.

Sirius’ adrenaline was receding, leaving room for aching exhaustion, searing pain, and, ultimately, devastating grief. He felt a hot tear leak from his eye. As he leaned over to pick up the horn, the edges of his field of vision started to go dark.

No, Sirius told himself, forcing himself to stand. He had to make it to safety, for Effie and Monty’s sake. He would not let their sacrifice be in vain. From what little he understood about this place, he trusted that he would be safe, and that he could finally get some answers. He trudged forward, passing the large tree and crossing the boundary into safety once more. 

As Sirius stumbled down the hill, he felt his consciousness steadily slipping away. Clinging to life, Sirius focused on the cold rain beating down on his face. It felt almost like each raindrop gave him an infinitesimal burst of energy, his pain and fatigue fading ever so slightly.

In the distance, Sirius saw a thunderbolt flash in the sky. The hair on the back of Sirius’ neck stood on end, his eyes opening wide. He moved through the woods faster as thunder cracked overhead, clutching the monster’s horn in his fist.

At long last, Sirius saw the golden glow of windows in the distance. He had made it through the woods and was staggering through a field of grass, a large house materializing through the rain before him. He dragged himself to the front porch and up the stairs. Sirius mustered up the strength to knock twice on the door.

The last thing he remembered was the door opening with a brilliant burst of light, revealing a familiar face.

“Sirius?”

Looking his best friend straight in the eye, before he collapsed into his arms and everything went black, the only words Sirius could form were “I’m so sorry.”