„Never thought I‘d see you setting foot in this house again.“
Juliet startles from her thoughts, prying her eyes away from the burned spot on the all too familiar tapestry on the wall and towards the door, where she meets Sirius‘ dark eyes.
„Seems we both broke that vow then,“ she replies, crossing her arms over her chest to protect herself from the creeping feeling that still manages to take hold of her, being here, even after all these years.
God, how she hates this place.
„I hate this place,“ Sirius says as though he had read her thoughts. „Still gives me the chills.“
Juliet nods courtly as her eyes drift away from the green satin armchair where her Father used to sit, reading the Prophet, every morning at exactly 7 am. She looks back at Sirius, studying his worn features and tired eyes. It’s almost impossible to recognize him now, for the mischievous teenage boy she‘d used to look up to so much.
Now Sirius looked like a dull shadow of the vibrant spirit he used to be. Before the war…before Azkaban.
„You look absolutely horrid, brother.“ she finally states, very matter of factly and not at all pretending to remain gentle with her words. They never lied to one another, so she wouldn’t start now. It had always been the one thing she could count on when they were little. That she never had to pretend with Sirius.
He doesn’t seem offended, just like she knew he wouldn’t, but smirks a bit instead. „Oi, horrid‘s a bit dramatic now, Sis,“ he replies, pushing his wavy dark hair behind his ear. „I prefer edgy.“
Juliet, despite her best efforts, could not hold in a snort. „Is that what you call it?“ she asks, raising her brow. „Mother would’ve thrown a fit could she see your hair.“ she gestures to the long mess of waves pooling all the way past his shoulders.
Sirius chuckles, certainly very much amused by this fact. „All the more reason to leave it like this.“ he says.
Juliet smiles as she walks back to the tapestry. She gazes up, just a bit above the burned spot she‘d looked at before, eyes set on the woven features of her Mother. „She didn’t even bother to wait,“ she says quietly after a moment. „She just blasted my face off the tapestry, right in front of me. Like I never even existed…just like she had yours.“
She can hear Sirius behind her, stepping closer, but doesn’t turn away from the wall.
„We were fighting…“ she continues when he doesn’t say anything, clearly wanting to let her talk. „I refused to attend that meeting, the one Father and her hosted for him, in '79.“
She remembers the day so clearly still, like it had happened only yesterday.
„I didn’t know they ever let him inside the house.“ Sirius replies, quietly yet angrily. „With you and Reg…you were only sixteen,“
„I was ordered to join the deatheaters that night Sirius,“ Juliet interrupts him. „It hadn’t mattered whether I was still a child…just like it hadn’t mattered with…“ she falters, and curses herself for it. Even after all these years, she can still barely speak his name. „With Reggie.“
She can see the pain in Sirius‘ eyes, the never worked through grief - for how could he have? Locked up in bloody Azkaban for twelve years.
She slowly reaches her hand out to touch his arm. „He never wanted it Sirius,“ she says, because she has to make sure he knows that. „Mother and Father forced him. They wanted him to take the mark and…and he had always been too eager to please them.“ she feels her throat closing and stops. She would not let grief claw at her again. It’s been too long. She couldn’t drown again like she had after hearing the news…she couldn’t.
„He didn’t deserve this…“ Sirius says after a stretched minute of silence, trailing his eyes along the tapestry, along their overly complex family tree. „You didn’t deserve this.“
Juliet turns her head to look up at him. „Don’t be silly,“ she says, almost amused by his - in her eyes - misplaced compassion. „The only one of us who truly deserved better was you.“ she replies, touching the burned spot where Sirius‘ face once smirked back. „You were the one who was brave enough to actually spite their prejudice on pure-blood supremacy and all that other horrendous nonsense.“
Sirius looks so genuinely surprised that she wonders whether he’d thought she‘d think badly of him. When, in reality, it was quite the opposite.
„You‘ll make me blush,“ he says jokingly, like he always does whenever a topic gets too intimate.
He‘d always lean onto misplaced humor. Exactly like she‘d act as though nothing could ever get to her, although that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
„I’m pretty sure you couldn’t blush even if you tried, thanks to the clear anemia you’re suffering from these days…“ she shoots him a stern look. „Not really surprising though, seeing as you seem to believe you‘d get your strength back from eating plain toast and burned eggs for all your meals.“
Sirius groans as though he was a teenager again, being lectured by their parents. „You sound too much like a Mother.“ he retorts, more amused than annoyed.
Juliet rolls her eyes - boys, she thinks. „Might be because I am one, silly.“ she replies.
Sirius seems taken back, and she suddenly realizes that, of course, he wouldn’t know that. Because before earlier today, when they’d both been seated around the kitchen table for their first official Order meeting since many years, they hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years.
„What?“ he asks, utterly shocked.
Juliet smiles, warmly this time, as she meets his wide eyes. „Sorry, I didn’t…I forgot just how long it’s been since we‘ve seen each other.“
Sirius, still baffled, blinks back at her in silence for a moment, before he seems to find his voice again. „You’re joking,“ he says as though it wasn’t even a question.
„I know, I didn’t think I‘d ever have a kid. I mean look how shit our Mother was, but…“ she shrugs her shoulder though smiles brightly. „Now I’m glad I did. He‘s great, honestly…reminds be of you sometimes. You‘ll like him.“
Sirius can barely seem to digest the revelation of having a nephew. His eyes might as well pop out of their sockets at this rate. „You actually have a- a kid? A son?“ he asks, a bit too loudly. „Merlin‘s pants…“
„You’re awfully taken back by that,“ Juliet replies amused yet slightly worried for her brother‘s seemingly slipping grasp on sanity.
Sirius runs a hand through his messy hair and chuckles. „No I just…“ and then there it is, that glint of cheek whenever he‘s thought of another pun or joke. „Mother would certainly declare you her favorite now Juls…providing the next Black heir and all.“
She punches his shoulder so hard that he hisses in pain. „Oi!“ he says, rubbing his arm. „No need to be hostile.“
Juliet, quite pleased with herself now, simply shrugs. „No need to be a twat.“ she replies. „Besides…I think she would have quickly lost interest about four years ago when Castor was sorted into Gryffindor.“
Sirius‘ expression certainly would’ve been worth some galleons. „What?“ he once more asks, this time though, the shock mingles with utter joy. „Gryffindor? You’re joking!“
„Still not,“ Juliet chuckles, „Like I said…he reminds me of you.“