The Snake and his Star

Sirius felt a spell hit him straight in the center of his chest and then he was falling backward into blackness, he kept falling until he could no longer see Harry or Remus’ faces or hear their voices. He fell weightless deeper and farther down and seemed to keep falling. He felt light as he appeared to float down but also heavy. His arms felt too heavy to move around correctly, his eyes too heavy to open, and his mind felt heavy. It felt like he couldn’t get his thoughts moving. He couldn’t quite figure out exactly what was happening and where he was.

He slowly began to see faint glimmers, some of it was his past, and he recognized his mother’s cruelty and abuse. Some of it was happier times and memories at Hogwarts with his friends. Nothing seemed to be happening in order, and there seemed to be no pattern in what he was shown, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Interspersed with his memories were the memories of another. The memories of another boy who had just as cruel of a caretaker as his mother, but he seemed darker. He seemed sad. He had no one named Andromeda to offer him love and guidance in the summertime, no brother to share tears and hugs with the night after an awful day with their mother. He didn’t have James and Remus at school to offer him their love and acceptance, no questions asked. He didn’t have Professor McGonagall to guide him toward something better when he made mistakes. Most of all, he had nothing to call his own, no money to buy his clothes. There was no money for different colored inks from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, no cash for butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, and no money to buy some sweets from Honeydukes to stash aside for a bad day.

This boy wearing green was surrounded by people who thought they were better than him because they had money. They would show off their new clothes and their expensive school supplies and their fancy shoes just to make him feel worse. As he grew older he began surpassing them in school and his power was undeniable. When he found a way to use his power and influence to take, to try to feel better about himself, he turned their cruelty back on them.

Sirius felt like he was floating…he could no longer tell if he was going down or floating through this thick air like a cloud.

As he tried to focus on where he was and what his body was doing, he heard whispers in his head.

‘Not this boy’s time.’
‘Still, a chance to change it all
‘Send him back'
‘We’ll guide when we can.’
‘You’ll need to piece together the rest'

Sirius felt his body suddenly jerk and he opened his eyes with a gasp.

He looked around and tried to get his bearings.
He was sitting at a table.
He blinked and looked around, wondering where the hell he was and what the fuck had just happened. He looked at his body, and he was tiny again.
He saw his cousin Bellatrix at the head of the table and seated next to her was Rodolphus. They were both making googly eyes in his direction. His eyes narrowed.
They didn’t seem to be looking at him. He turned to his right, and there he was, Voldemort himself. Seated right at the middle of the table, in a larger and more grand chair than all the others.

Only not the Voldemort Harry had described from that night in the graveyard. This man sitting next to him was the Voldemort of his childhood: violent, irrational, powerful, and dangerous, especially with his human face intact.

The Dark Lord turned towards him like a predator towards prey.

“Hullo Sirius”
“Hullo sir,” his voice sounded so slight, so different than what he was used to. So other than what it sounded like in his head.

“Your magic changed from one moment to the next. It transformed quite suddenly; now it feels darker, more powerful, yet still quite friendly and mischievous.” the Dark Lord closed his eyes and released more of his magic. “It feels both old and young at the same time.”

Voldemort took a moment to gather his magic back to himself and opened his eyes. His gaze was focused on Sirius’ face with concentration.
Sirius found himself frozen under the Dark Lord’s mahogany eyes.
“Who are you?” The Dark Lord hissed at him.

‘Show him,’ the shadows whispered in Sirius’ mind. They seemed to bolster his mood.

Sirius suddenly felt more confident.
He turned his body fully towards Voldemort and inched closer; he looked him straight in the eyes and relaxed.

“Look,” it felt strange to command someone as powerful as Voldemort, but he knew he must.

He felt him quickly enter his mind. Sirius took a deep breath, and as he let it out, it almost felt like the shadows were helping him relax, as if they had gentled Voldemort's movements through his mind against his will. They would ensure Voldemort wouldn’t hurt his mind no matter how violently he tore through it, looking for whatever they wanted him to see.

He heard Voldemort suck in a sharp breath through his teeth just as Sirius felt him leave his mind. He had an idea of what the Dark Lord must have seen. They must have also let him see just how far he’d fallen to try to kill a baby and then kidnap a teenager to attempt to resurrect himself.

Whatever the shadows wanted him to see, he had seen it, and the Dark Lord looked, Unsettled.
For the rest of the night, Voldemort barely spoke. He didn’t leave his seat, and anytime Sirius looked over at him, his magic felt slightly disturbed, and his face shown him to be completely lost in thought.
A few weeks later, Sirius heard that the Dark Lord had inherited some books and property in Eastern Europe after a distant relative had passed away. He would be putting a pause on his activities here in Britain because part of his inheritance included Slytherin heirlooms and spells in Parseltongue that he was to be studying to help cement his place at the top of the British Wizarding World. His father seemed proud to be privy to such personal information, Sirius wondered if anyone knew the real reason the Dark Lord left.

Sirius thought of the memories he had seen in the shadows and everything Voldemort had endured. He was now the leader of all those same children who had taunted and tortured him. He was now the Lord of all those families with their children sworn to his service. Sirius was both terrified and impressed. He wondered what it felt like, the pressure of leading the same people that once tortured you. If that was partially to blame for his severe miscalculations. He hoped that things would turn out different this time around; Voldemort's actions had led to the annihilation of almost an entire generation before that night at Godric's Hallow. He'd do his best to be patient and wait and see. He knew that he was sent back to do something, he was unsure what. He hoped the shadows that now lived in his mind would continue to guide him.

Sirius soon found himself back at Hogwarts for this 3rd year. That meant his brother was a 2nd year. His mother had ensured a rift between him and his brother Regulus. As children, they had been inseparable; Sirius had been Regulus’s protector, and Regulus had been Sirius’s biggest cheerleader. He loved Sirius and thought the world of his big brother, and he made sure everyone in the family knew it.

‘I’d like to become friends with my brother again.’ he thought to himself one day

The shadows in his mind seemed pleased.

On their second night back, Sirius told James and Remus that he needed to talk to his brother and walked over to the Slytherin table at dinnertime,
“Hey, Reggie.”

“Sirius,” his brother nodded once and spoke carefully.

“Want to sit together for dinner?”
He gave Regulus his biggest smile, the same one he used to give Reggie when they were kids. He watched as Regulus relaxed slightly.

Regulus moved to the end of the table without saying anything and gestured toward the seat across from him.

“So, tell me all the Slytherin gossip.”

Regulus fully relaxed and rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible, Sirius.”

“Don’t roll your eyes, Reggie” Then Sirius sat up straighter and, in a perfect imitation of their mother, said, “It’s so uncouth.”

They dissolved into laughter. The Marauders waved from where they were sitting, and many other heirs and heiresses further down the table glared in their direction. The acceptance of his friends and the mistrust of the snakes let Sirius know he was doing something right.

It was the first day of Yule Break during their 3rd year at Hogwarts, they'd be getting on the train and heading home when they woke up, but on this night, he had a dream; perhaps the shadows sent him a long-forgotten memory. Sirius was maybe four years old, and his grandmother had brought him to a house he’d never seen. As far as Sirius could remember, they’d never gone back.

“What is this place, mémé?”
“This is one of our secret Properties, my little Star.”
He turned towards his grandmother, wide-eyed and excited. “We have those?”
“Yes, my sweet, this is ‘Maison de paix.’ It is unplottable and untraceable. That means you can only come here if you know it.”

She slowly led him through the house calling the elves to fix him a snack and a place to rest while she harvested some needed plants. Regulus was sickly throughout childhood, and his grandmother brewed many of his potions. She did it here and used some of the plants in the greenhouse and the supplies she’d brought today.

Sirius took his time exploring the house. It was nowhere near as large as Black Manor, where his grandparents lived. It was closer in size to his home, Grimmauld Place, but much more comfortable. It felt more like the kind of house Sirius wanted to live in. It was cozy and bright, with friendly elves and many things to look at.

A few hours later, his grandmother came to collect him from where he lay in the parlor surrounded by things from his grandfather’s office, which he used as toys. He braced himself to be yelled at.

“It’s time to go, my little Star. Why don’t I help you clean up so we can get these potions to your brother.”
He nodded and proceeded to clean up better than he ever had at home.
“Can we come back here one day, mémé? I want to bring some toys for Reggie and me next time. Maybe even our new brooms. The backyard looks big!”
“Maybe one day.”

Sirius slowly opened his eyes the next day. His body might be 14, but he was mentally in his mid-30s. Why had they sent him his dream?

He sat down and thought about his Mémé, how sweet she was to him, and after she died, Andi had been his only source of kindness in the Black Family. She ran away with Ted soon after that; 2 years later, bloody and bruised Sirius had run away too. He turned towards James’ bed, thankful for everything the Potters had done for him. They had healed, protected him from his family, and cared for him like their son. They had never once made him feel like they had done him a favor, and James had always treated him like a brother. Not adopted, not a friend like a brother, but like the brother of his heart.

He was overcome with emotions and gratitude for his friends, but he also knew that this time he had to do some work to protect his friends too. Maybe he needed to get closer to his mémé again to help make that happen. He couldn’t let his mother win, and he knew she hated how close he was with his mémé, especially considering it was an open secret in the family that Lady Black hated her daughter-in-law, who was also her niece. She had been against the match from the start.

He climbed out of bed and penned a letter to his mémé letting her know that he was coming home for Yule Break and asking her to come over that day. He called for Kreature and did his best to ask him to deliver it to her kindly and with a smile. Considering Kreature's response to Sirius' attempted kindness: he wasn’t sure that was a relationship he could fix. The shadows in his mind laughed.

The years passed with the shadows primarily silent. Sometimes it felt like they were giggling along with him, or they’d seem happy if he made a choice they liked. Only once did it feel like they were discouraging him from something. He was finding it hard to control his temper when Snape would just not leave him alone one day. He kept trying to remind himself that he was almost 40 years old at this point, but Severus was like a shark. He would not let up, and he would not let go.
He found his teenage hormones overshadowing his rational mind as his anger flared. He was itching for a fight when he felt them . They were telling him to let it go, to do the least. He responded with a small jinx, if he responded with no reaction he knew Severus would be suspicious, considering Snape was their group’s rival, but the shadows seemed to warn him away from keeping any type of permanent enmity with him.

Most other things continued on the way they had been. Sirius and James had become Animagi to support Remus, and Sirius developed a close bond with James’ parents. Remus and James seemed to care about him as profoundly this time as they did in his last life. But in his previous life, he had been more like their little brother that they constantly had to manage and protect. They always did so without complaint, but this time, Sirius ensured they didn’t always need to take care of him. That he wasn’t just their friend Sirius who was generous, kind, and well-meaning but an absolute mess that created havoc everywhere he went. Instead, he was their friend Sirius who was all of those good things but also dependable and steady.

One of the unfortunate side effects of this was that Remus and James had confessed romantic feelings towards him at one point. Sirius knew part of this was because he was and always had been quite good-looking, but he was also more mature than most others at school with them. So they were drawn towards him because he was a grown adult that looked and sounded their age; he could provide them a steady shoulder to lean on through everything that came with being a teenager. He let them down gently, he may have explored this in his last life, but he was a grown man stuck in a teenager’s body it wouldn't have been right.

It wasn’t until Narcissa’s wedding to Lucius that the shadows spoke to him again. They had been buzzing in excitement all night. They kept telling him that this was it. This night was the reason he was sent back. But no matter how hard he tried, Sirius couldn’t remember if anything had happened in the previous war on this night in his last life. As far as he could remember, this was one of the final moments of his life with the Black family before his mother took one of his "punishments" too far, and he ran away to the Potters. A few things were different this time around. His mémé was still alive, and so was his father. He wasn’t sure for how long. In his last life, his mémé had died when he was 14, and his father passed away a few months into his 6th year.

After the ceremony, he stood far away from everyone in the garden to try to meditate and gather his thoughts.

Sirius suddenly felt pulled to stand.

Sirius felt him before he saw him.

The shadows seemed to go nuts in his head.

His magic buzzed under his skin.

He was reminded of all the times when he was young when he’d had a crush on someone, and they’d reciprocated, and you’d feel that excitement and a buzz. It felt like that again but so much more profound; he felt it in his soul.

His entire body was buzzing, he could feel his blood flow under his skin, and he had never felt so alive.

Voldemort was here. Only it wasn’t the Voldemort he remembered. This man seemed to be in his early 20s, and the shadows told him that this was indeed Voldemort, but he was also Thomas Gaunt.

Thomas Gaunt, Voldemort, the Dark Lord, whatever you wanted to call him, seemed drawn towards him like a magnet because he barely looked at anyone speaking to him. He was walking towards Sirius, a look of awe on his face plain as day. Just there for anyone to see.

Sirius reached out, and when their fingers brushed, the entire world around them fell away, and the shadows in his mind suddenly brightened and rejoiced. This was precisely what Sirius was brought back for, and this was exactly where Sirius needed to be, next to Thomas Gaunt.

“Sirius,” The Dark Lord whispered. Sirius took a step closer. “My Sweet Sirius”

That fateful night, Tom had looked into Sirius’ mind, and that changed everything for him.

He had seen his downfall. He had seen how his mind was breaking apart already with the creation of his Horcruxes. He had seen that he had lost credibility thanks to his violence and actions that night in Godric’s Hallow. He had seen his followers abandon him and felt his anger as he wandered as a wraith. Looking at it that night, he had wanted to be angry, but the shadows had whispered to him that it was his fault, and he had known they were right. He had asked them what to do, and they had simply told him to find another parseltongue.

He had left that same night to begin absorbing his Horcruxes.
Voldemort then set off on a journey toward East Asia.

He had met his family there, not the family he was related to by blood but his real family. While traveling around Pakistan and northern India, he met other parseltongues and learned that these were his brothers and sisters. He would find what he needed to know about his adopted family, which was with them.

At the foothills of the Himalayas lived a seer from Africa, Jaleel Odili. He had been waiting for Tom for almost six years, Jaleel hadn't known when Tom would arrive, but he knew he’d be there eventually. He just needed to direct Tom to the chief of the Parseltongues. The man who would lead him where he needed to be.

He made his way into the Himalayas slowly but surely. He’d wake up, meditate every morning, and then apparate to wherever felt right. Finally finding himself in Chamoli, there in the village of Mana was where he had found his elder. Here he had come across the most powerful of his found family.

He learned new ways of meditation and ways to bend his magic to make things happen that he had been told were impossible. They lived here because not only did these members of his found family have magical auras that rivaled his own, but thanks to the fact that they were all speakers of parseltongue and therefore cast spells in parseltongue, they could be destructive while they learned. So here, far from cities and close to where the first speaker of parseltongue was born, they honed their craft. Some chose to stay and train the family members that would eventually find them, and some decided to return to their families.

One night, Fatima Vaishnavi approached him. She wasn’t a parseltongue speaker herself but the consort of their leader.

“You are ready to return.”

Tom nodded. He felt ready, he felt better than he had in years. He had been able to restore his mind and his soul's integrity here.

“There’s one thing left for you to do before you return. One ritual we will need to restore your youth. You need a little more time to do what you must”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “I do not have a good track record with rituals meant to preserve my youth.”

She laughed openly. “No, you do not, Thomas, but this ritual will only extend your life slightly. You need to be younger so you can become yourself.”

Tom stopped and thought about what she was saying. He was not himself when he became Voldemort. He was given a second chance at being young to become who he was meant to be.
“I am ready when you are.”

That night his body had been torn open and reborn. Physically he was 20 years old again, there was only one difference between his 20 year old body and this one. He had brown eyes again. Gone were the red eyes he had after he had made his second Horcrux.

“Go back, Thomas. You are ready to restore the balance magic Western Europe needs.”

Tom waited to see if she had anything else to say. He felt like she might.

“First, you must find the one that will balance you. With them you will find the love you once craved, the love you still so desperately want. Do not worry, you will not outlive your little love, once you both are bonded, they will also have a slightly longer than average life.”

“Who is the one that will balance me?”

She smiled at him slightly, “You’ll find the star that will guide you soon enough.”

Tom returned to England with help from his family. He stopped at the Gringott’s location in Japan to get it all settled. He was Thomas Maxim Gaunt, Heir to the house of Slytherin and Peverell, and the 3rd cousin twice removed to Merope Gaunt. He was considered the last living relative of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He returned to Britain, claimed his seats in the Wizengamot, and inherited all the vaults of the Dark Lord thanks to the connections he made in Japan. He was wealthy and a silent partner in enough businesses to allow him the freedom to live as he wanted and make plans for a stronger wizarding world.

He quickly made allies in Wizengamot with all his old crew, and he had a feeling Abraxas knew precisely who he was but was silent out of respect for his old friend.

One Saturday evening he had gotten lost in writing a bill he hoped to introduce next month in the Wizengamot when he remembered the time. He dressed quickly suddenly feeling the need to hurry and just made it to the reception of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black.

Abraxas greeted him at the entrance and gave him the same smile he used to give him in school. He nodded and gave him a slight smile. He had missed the wedding, but the reception was just beginning. Abraxas introduced him to a few people inside the home and they slowly made their way toward the bar exchanging pleasantries.

Before he could order a drink he found himself pulled in a different direction, he walked like he was in a trance. His soul seemed to be reaching out of his body towards something towards someone.

He slowly stopped in front of a young man. There stood the most beautiful face he’d ever seen, a beautiful angel in the flesh. Sirius Black, the one who had shown him what was in store for him in the future had he continued down the path he was on all those years ago. As Tom stared at Sirius with his lips slightly parted he suddenly knew that not only was the future Sirius shown him long gone, but it was now Sirius that was to be the only future he needed.

The boy who had changed his fate was now older. He walked slowly forward.

He remembered that night clearly: how he had been seated beside the young Heir Black, surrounded by his followers. He was making plans even then of continuing his ascent into power. When in the middle of his thoughts he felt something. He felt a shift in Sirius’ magic. It felt darker, more powerful, and older suddenly all at once. Tom had looked over, expecting the boy had somehow disappeared and someone else now sat there. But there sat Sirius Black.

Sirius Black.
He repeated the name over and over in his head like a mantra. It was all suddenly so clear.

Sirius Black.

He was the one that would balance Tom, with Sirius was exactly where Tom was meant to be.

As their fingers touched, Tom realized he was standing before the Light of his Life, his little love, his better half who would always serve as his compass.

“Sirius,” he breathed out, “my Sweet Sirius.”

epilogue

Tom looked out the window of his office in the ministry as he waited for Sirius. In another life, he wouldn’t have been able to become a Dark Lord and be elected Minister of Magic. He would’ve destroyed his soul in another life and never reached the top.

But it wasn’t another life. It was this life that he was living, a life that had been gifted to him by fate herself. He was feared and admired, mostly loved but widely respected.

Sirius had come into his life suddenly and changed everything for the better. He spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about how much he loved his wonderful mutt and the children he had been able to have with this man. He also often thought about how strange his life was, considering he would soon go out to dinner with his husband, the Potters, a werewolf and his wife along with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. He wouldn’t necessarily refer to any of them as his friends. But he didn’t hate spending time with Cissa or the wolf. Everyone else he tolerated for Sirius. Well really nobody liked Lucius. But he was quite useful and where Cissa went he seemed to follow so here they were. “Friends” with one Lucius Malfoy.

Even all their children were friends with one another at Hogwarts.
Harry and Adhara seemed to like Draco and that was enough for him.

He heard his husband laughing loudly in the hallway as he flirted with his secretary.

He watched Sirius walk towards him; Sirius was beautiful in every sense of the word. He was an angel on earth, yet he always looked at Tom like he had hung the moon. His eyes full of mischief and love.
He couldn’t imagine living in a world without his little love.

As Sirius sat down on his lap, he relished the feeling of Sirius’ weight on his thigh.

Thomas kissed him deeply, and when he pulled back, he rubbed his thumb over Sirius’ cheek gently. Sirius still blushed every time he kissed him like that.

“Hello, my love.”
Instead of responding, Tom kissed him again.

Life may be strange, but it was also good.