(What A) Wonderful World
But I do know one and one is two
And if this one could be with you
What a wonderful world this would be
18th October 1961
If there was one thing that having twins had taught Orion, it was to never have expectations.
The two babes were an absolute handful, at least for the house elves. Once Walburga had napped and fed the children shortly after their birth, she had informed her husband that he would not be breaking the traditions of their past as her brother had done. They would be raising the children though house elves completely and that was final.
He should have said no. Stood his ground and told her that he respected her input but that he had seen her brother’s children and they appeared to be happy. And they still had house elves! He knew the combination worked - he was watching three girls grow up into lovely young women by it. If he’d just told her that, explained his opinions.
He didn’t.
Instead, Orion Black nodded along and left his wife to it.
The glimpses he got of his children were enough, he would tell himself. To watch them learn to walk and hear them babble to each other. To see them grow taller and more person-like was odd and fascinating. To see it from the sidelines was pitiful.
Still, there were good days.
And one of them happened to be a Thursday. Which, wasn’t expected, because Orion had always found Thursday to be the most disappointing day of the week. Thursday was the middle of the week, the day that would always drag on unbearably.
But not today. He should have known from the second he saw his son.
Sirius Orion Black the Third was oddly quiet all day. Usually they would have heard his tantrums at least three times by breakfast. Instead, there was an odd quiet.
At least his little Ara was normal. She was always quiet, more interested in listening and flinching than crying. Sometimes he looked at her and wondered if he was missing something. He’d stare at her wild curls and grey eyes and how she always appeared nervous in the presence of anything except her brothers… and just wonder.
Sirius was clearly her favourite, but she seemed fascinated by her baby brother. Though, Walburga made sure that Ara spent most of her time alone. Something Orion had noticed but never said about. What would there be to say? Say wife, why do you hate your daughter? Why do you deliberately try to break our children’s twin bond?
Knowing his wife, she’d scoff and tell him he was mad and he’d believe her.
At least she was out today for tea with her school friends. He had the house to himself (and the kids) and it was strangely inviting to be alone. Until it wasn’t.
Orion made his way to the informal dining room for lunch - arriving to find his children already sat in their chairs and being fed by elves. He greeted the room, went around the children and kissed their foreheads since Walburga wasn’t there, and sat to eat his lunch.
Unfortunately, Sirius had other plans.
The toddler began screaming in his high chair, trying to get away from the food in front of him, screaming the word no. Orion watched with amusement, seeing the small boy grabbing at his curls and then the sides of his chair as he tried to avoid the food. The elves were getting fed up, Kreacher deciding to focus on cooing Regulus (“gentle babe, shining star”) to get him to eat his food. Luckily, the younger boy seemed more receptive.
As Sirius began to cry more desperately, Ara began to squirm. It was a little surprising to Orion, who had not yet seen such behaviour from his daughter. Then, she began to cry too - reaching across the table for her twin.
The house elves attempt to soothe the two was proving fruitless, and just as Orion managed to get the courage to stand and move the children next to each other; the bowl containing Sirius’s food exploded.
Literally.
The slop the elves had been trying to feed him found itself coating the walls and table. But the boy wasn’t done. Because, as suddenly as a blink, he was gone from the high chair. Orion’s eyes widened as he scanned the rest of the table, seeing Sirius now sat with Ara in her chair.
The two had stopped crying now - their hands joined and skin glowing that odd gold hue that it had when they’d just been born.
“You marvellous boy!” Orion exclaiming, rushing from his chair to his children to pick his son out and hold him close. "Tu es mon merveilleux, brillant garçon!" The boy seemed to at first want his sister with him, but with a little smile, the girl gently dropped his hand and the boy relinquished. He let his father preen over his little burst of magic, telling him how his mother would be thrilled.
And in this beautiful moment between father and son, Orion didn’t notice the way his young daughter watched on in worry and awe. Nor the way a few tears fell from her eyes as she watched on with wistfulness and knowing.
After all, his Heir had proved himself magical. There would be no worries about succession now. No worries at all.
23rd August 1963
Walburga would be lying if she said it didn’t bother her that her daughter hadn’t performed any magic yet.
She had watched for a few weeks after Sirius’s accidental magic, hoping that the girl would start showing anything. It had been a lovely day, that. First, a lovely tea with some old friends that ended with interest from one regarding her daughter. It was ridiculously easy to begin dropping the hints - she suspected that by the time her elder children were six, she would definitely have a betrothal agreement in the works.
Or, at least, she would if her daughter would just show magic.
After the dull weeks of waiting for nothing, Walburga decided to change her approach. If the accidental magic wouldn’t come on its own, she would have to force it.
The first hit was meant to be the last, she told herself. She’d see if it did anything, and if not, she’d never do it again.
She didn’t realise how much better it made her feel. To punish this child, this thing born first and wrong. Walburga was aware that she should never have had a daughter - raising girls simply wasn’t in her blood. If she’d just had the girl and then a year later popped out an heir, maybe she wouldn’t have hated her so much.
It was the whole bloody twin thing that frustrated her.
Because this little girl, this quiet girl that flinched when she shouted at her and seemed to never cry or even speak… she had a claim over the Heir that Walburga would never have. Sure, she was his mother - but Ara was his twin. The two were born of the same soul.
Walburga could tell when Sirius was playing with the bond, watching the little frustrated expressions as he propelled his mind into his sisters. It was something Walburga would never be able to stop. The Heir, her Little Heir, would always be swayed by his sister.
The girl didn’t speak, which might have been a relief, were it not for how she looked at her mother. The intense gaze the girl held… it was to be seen in entirety, and judged accordingly. For Walburga, Ara’s gaze held pity and disappointment. It took all her effort not to squirm under such an intense glare.
So, she did what any desperate woman would do. She kept them apart. Only giving them time together to play for long enough to keep the two sustained on the bond. It was simple, her plan. To gradually rip the two apart so the bond would barely feel it. Besides, looking at the little girl - she knew the plan was working.
With the way that she never seemed to share her brothers expressions, it was clear she didn’t bombard him as he did her. She did as her mother had beaten into her.
It was terribly common to hit your children yourself. Her father had always gotten house elves to do it. As had his. But this was a tradition Walburga was willing to bend. She was still punishing the girl, just seeing it through herself.
And if she picked up her methods as the girl aged… well, no one would bother her about it. Especially when her husband was a coward and it was so easy to immediately heal the wounds.
By the summer of 1963, Walburga had almost forgotten that this whole thing started to try and get the girl to show magic. It was clear she wouldn’t. She had to have it - you can’t have a twin soul bond without it - and yet. Nothing.
And it was beginning to drive Walburga mad.
13th November 1964
Today might be the best day of Sirius’s life, he thought. There had been strawberries at breakfast despite the season, and now his father was taking him to a serious business meeting.
He’d sat him down after breakfast, explaining they’d be taking lunch with a friend of his, to discuss a family arrangement. Sirius promised to only speak if spoken to, and vowed to be a shining example of House Black. Orion had smiled softly at that and let Sirius go off to play.
Today he would get to do his first meeting as Heir. It was so exciting that he didn’t think he’d be able to sit still all day.
And, best of all, he and Ara had been allowed an hour of play time in the morning by Mipsy. The house elf always told him that his mother was going against the will of magic when she’d bring him and Ara together.
And it was his favourite time.
Though his sister didn’t speak and seemed wary of everything, she would sit and play with him and listen to his stories and let him play with the bond.
He didn’t really understand how it worked or why it was only with his sister, but he didn’t mind. For him, it was completely open, showing her his whole day, every thought and every emotion. He bombarded Ara with it at every waking moment, but he felt her warmth and knew she didn’t mind. Just as he didn’t mind how she didn’t do the same.
Instead, he saw what she wanted him to. When he was sad, she would shove a pretty picture in his head, a memory of hers of him looking happy or a beautiful thing she knew he’d love. When he hurt himself, she would take his pain away. He didn’t understand it, but she seemed fine so he supposed they didn’t have to feel pain if the other helped them.
She’d wrap in in so much warm and love as he slept that it made every dream a good one. She’d show him the little things she’d noticed - the paintings that moved, new scratches on chair legs, the pattern of wood grain on her desk. He lapped it all up, grateful to receive anything at all.
Though it most often felt like there was a gap between the boy and his twin, he understood that this was the best she could do. He figured it was that she wasn’t as good as him at keeping their bond open all the time, and she didn’t correct him. After all, it was the uncomfortable fact to their house that his sister had not showed any magic yet.
Even little Reggie had - blasting a book to shreds when he wanted a nap instead of lessons.
But not Ara. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, Sirius felt her magic as strongly as his own, but that she didn’t. She left him to the magic and smiled every time he did something beautiful.
Lord Nott was very boring. He spoke in a dull voice, about dull things, with dull people. It was all Sirius could do, not to yawn as Lord Nott explained how ‘mutually beneficial’ everything would be. Sirius didn’t quite understand what the adults were on about, but with the way his father kept looking around nervously, he understood it was something serious.
If only Lord Nott wasn’t so boring, maybe Sirius would have understood sooner exactly what was going on.
He watched the man as he spoke, thinking to himself that he hoped he didn’t end up looking like that when he was older. Lord Nott was all sharp features and beady eyed. In those beady eyes, there was something Sirius didn’t quite understand, but didn’t like. Like a hunger but not for food. In other words, he made Sirius nervous.
The entire lunch was odd to the boy. His father had been tense as they left, despite mother’s glee at whatever was happening. They’d Flooed over to Lord Nott’s house and despite his father seeming engaged and nodding at the right times while Nott spoke, Sirius knew something was off.
It wasn’t until Lord Nott bid them goodbye and they went to his Floo room, that Sirius finally asked what it was all about.
“You see, little Heir, now that your sister is five, she’s old enough to start the process of betrothal. Lord Nott and I were discussing terms for his marrying her, once she’s of age.”
“But if Ara gets married, she won’t be my sister anymore! That’s what mother says.” The poor boy sobbed, confused by the events and terrified of his mothers words.
She had told him about his sister getting married a few months prior, when he asked his mother why Ara wasn’t taught in the same room as him and Regulus.
“Her tutoring is fitting of an Heiress of House Black. Yours and your frère's is that of a future Head of House. One day we’ll marry her to an appropriate heir and she will continue his family line.Tu as de la chance ce n'est pas ton destin.” Walburga explained with a sharp tone, eyeing the child carefully.
That day, she had come to join them in their lesson to help teach them - something the boy looked forward to, given it was so infrequent. He truly loved his mother, loved to preen at her compliments and beam at being called her Little Heir. But in that moment, hearing how she phrased things, even though he was only four at the time; he knew the words weren’t right.
He’d tried to ask more, but it had only infuriated his mother. She’d told him that he wouldn’t have to worry about Ara once she was married, as she would no longer be his sister. She wouldn’t be part of their family anymore, but now the start of another.
He supposed it was meant to be pretty in a way, but he was four and the idea of not having his sister (even if he barely saw her anyway) was so awful that he had cried the second his mother left and proceeded to continue for the next few hours, until he caught sight of Ara at dinner and he knew she was alright.
“She will always be your sister, but as Heiress to House Black, she has responsibilities. All of you will be betrothed at some point, it’s just tradition that girls are younger when it’s finalised.”
Sirius blanched at that. He didn’t want to marry some boring old lady. And he definitely didn’t want Ara to marry that boring old man.
“Why did you bring me? Why not Ara?” Sirius sniffed.
“Because your mother is taking her lesson today.” Sirius stiffened at that. Never, not once, had Walburga ever been a part of her daughter’s education. It was something unsaid in their house that Walburga loved her sons and ignored her daughter. Sirius didn’t understand it, but what did he know? Mother was never wrong, so even though it made his chest tight every time his mother looked away from Ara or left a room when she entered.
She was never wrong.
It was sudden, but it shoved the boy to his knees. A cracking in the bond, splinters forming along the edges from stress. And screaming in his mind, so raw and awful that the poor boy wanted to throw up.
Worldlessly, he grabbed his father and dragged him to the Floo, hoping he’d figure out the next step. Luckily the man did - yelling their address as the flame roared. When they arrived, Sirius immediately ripped himself from the fireplace and yelled to Ara over the bond, begging her to tell him where she was.
It wasn’t until he arrived in the teaching room and saw the desks wobbling that he realised this next fact.
The entire house was shaking.
Not just shaking, really, it was being ripped apart. By his sister’s pain.
Suddenly, a small tuft of brown curls broke into view and Sirius ran to his little brother.
Reggie was good fun, but he was a crybaby and clung to their mother so much that it made him jealous. It didn’t mean that Sirius didn’t love him or love spending their days together, it just meant that he never really understood his younger brother.
Right now though, he understood him completely.
“La bibliothèque! Elles sont à la bibliothèque!” He cried, rocking himself under the small desk. Sirius tried to get the boy out, but he started crying even louder, yelling that he wanted Mother.
Before Sirius could try and drag Reg out again, he felt a snapping in the bond. Not enough to break it, but enough to lose feeling in the left side of his body. He had to find her.
Orion managed to catch up on the stairs, joining his son as he ran to the library and tried to open it. The doors wouldn’t budge, prompting Orion to flick a spell that flung them open.
Inside, the sight was awful.
Walburga was stood over her daughter, wild eyes filled with gleeful vengeance. Her wand was in her hand, pointed to the bundle of limps on the floor. Ara was convulsing slightly, vomit to the side and in her hair. Her eyes were screwed closed, forehead beaded with sweat and skin so pale and blue it was haunting.
Wordlessly, Sirius ran into the room and positioned himself between his mother and sister, flinching at the look in her eyes. They held this odd standoff, Walburga’s wand still primed.
It was like one of the fancy paintings in father’s office - a demon over the fallen princess, the prince standing tall in the way. Sirius panted with the effects of running through the house. Walburga panted with the strain of using dark magic against her own daughter.
“Why?” Sirius whispered to his mother with desperate eyes, looking at this woman and seeing not even a sliver of the love and adoration she usually showed him. Right now, Sirius was in the way.
Before Walburga could knock him aside or yell at him or try to deal with the fallout, Orion was in the room throwing a disarming charm and snatching her wand, rushing to the heap of small child on the floor.
She was scarcely breathing, eyes still shut tightly. She probably hadn’t even realised it had stopped. That Walburga had been caught.
In that moment, seeing her task foiled, Walburga finally noticed that the house was shaking. And she sighed with relief. She had done it. She’d figured it out, how to finally get Ara to stop suppressing her magic and let it out.
Now this betrothal would be sorted. Proof that Ara had magic, strong magic at that. To be subjected to such pain and able to use magic to express it… it was absolute power. The kind her little Heir seemed to share.
Seeing that his mother had softened slightly, Sirius ran to his twin and grabbed her in his arms, holding her close.
He tried to take her pain through the bond, as he had felt Ara do, and screamed. It was excruciating. It was pain incarnate, the most awful feeling that made his stomach lead and mouth heavy and dry. Because, not only could he not share the pain, he now knew that this whole time… Ara had been dealing with it for him. She had felt pain from their mother her entire life, and didn’t want him to feel the same.
Sirius Black might have only been five, but he was old enough to understand.
That day Sirius learned a fact that would stick with him for the rest of his life. He learned this fact from the fractured thoughts and emotions that hit him like tidal wave after tidal wave from his twin’s broken mind - choking him with memories of pain she had hidden so well.
Walburga was wrong.
And worse, she had never been right.