What's Happening Brother
Hey baby, what you know good?
I'm just getting back, but you knew I would
War is hell, when will it end?
When will people start getting together again?
Are things really getting better, like the newspaper said?
What else is new, my friend, besides what I read?
August 1972
Summer with the Potters could be divided into three critical incidents involving the Black twins.
The first occurred two days into their stay, during a tour of the house conducted by James. Which meant randomly running and messing about with innocuous items scattered through the abode.
He pointed out paintings and memorabilia as he slid though the hallways, pausing every once in a while to show off something random that he deemed ‘wicked’. Unfortunately, running through the stone floors of the Manor with only socks on could only lead to disaster.
As the trio slid through the house, James suddenly switched direction - shifting the path hastily sideways. The twins moved with him, skidding the corner too fast. James collided with Sirius - catching the boy by the ankle and flipping him over into Ara’s path. She slammed into him and stumbled back into the wall; hearing an almighty crash.
The twins scrambled to their feet, eerily in sync, as they spun to stare at the consequence of their tumble. An old bust had fallen from its shelf, cracking in half on impact. They locked eyes, wide with fear, and silently scanned through dozens of ideas of how to hide the evidence.
That is, until James so very helpfully yelled out:
“Oi! Dad, I broke that bust again!”
The twins turned to him with identical looks of horror, wiping the sheepish smile from James’s face.
“What?” He frowned, unsure how to react to the clearly terrified twins in front of him.
“Oi! Not again!” A voice bellowed from down the hall, causing the twins to flinch.
There were thundering footsteps coming down the corridor, a bewildered best friend and the shards of a shattered bust. The twins exchanged a look of utter panic, and without a single thought; they ran.
James Potter watched with utter befuddlement as his friends legged it down the corridor, joining hands as they turned the corner and vanished from sight. His father found him still stood in the same spot, scratching the top of his head in deep thought.
And when he explained… well, neither Potter knew exactly how to handle that.
Instead, they uneasily left it alone - James commenting later that he’d broken the bust a dozen times going around that corner too fast - that his Dad didn’t really care beyond the annoyance of fixing it. And, though the twins swore they were fine, it was so unbelievable that it wasn’t even worth bringing up. They’d either talk it out in a week, or the twins would figure out how the Potters worked. They were absolutely nothing like the Blacks.
——
On the ninth day, Euphemia Potter hunted through the Manor for the twins. She had one thing on her mind; dinner plans. Well, more specifically, trying to figure out dinner plans to make the twins feel a little more at ease.
The Potter house elf, Poppet, had come to her the first night - informing her that the twins had begged her to put up silencing wards. They hadn’t wanted the others to hear Ara’s nightmares.
And Godric, if that didn’t break her heart.
She didn’t know how to help. It was an awful position to be in; especially for a mother as loving as her.
As such, she’d taken to doing all the little things she could think of.
The second day of the twin’s stay, she had charmed stars on their ceiling. Constellations across the pale blue paint - the stars belonging to the twins glimmering brightly. Though they hadn’t commented; it was clear they’d appreciated it. The look they’d given her the following day… it had stuck with her. Such gratitude completely overshadowed by utter confusion and wariness.
They hadn’t understood why she’d done it.
What kind of mother was Walburga Black; that was now the thought that Euphemia Potter could not shake. What kind of woman was she to make children so uncertain of parental love? So unfamiliar with the concept.
The familiar twinkle of voices at the end of the hallway set Euphemia on her final path; marching to the doors and opening them with hopefully the right level of noise. As her eyes roamed the room - she locked onto the twins, sharing a single armchair between them.
They were sat in the library with Dorea and Charlus - clearly in the middle of a serious ‘Black family only’ discussion. Charlus was probably only there due to whining that he’d married into the Black family. That seemed like something he’d do.
“Ah! There you are.” Euphemia spoke as way of greeting as she drifted into the room. “What would you like for dinner? We can make your favourites; Poppet and Lolly will be most proficient in conjuring your wishes.” She asked them kindly, eyes crinkling with years of smiles.
The twins stared blankly at her in reply, unsure of whether they should respond. At Grimmauld, they ate what they were given and if they tried to add any comments, Wally would react with malice. What kind of a question was that anyways? Why should they know? Hogwarts didn’t ask what people wanted to eat either - that was normal, wasn’t it?
Dorea looked on at the interaction, spying the exact same nerves and confusion she had shared upon her first entry of the Potter home. Charlus’s parents had asked her what her favourite meal was and she hadn’t been able to answer. It had taken her three weeks to confess to Charlus that she had never picked her meal before, and that she didn’t know what she enjoyed.
“We’re happy with your selection, Mrs Potter.” Ara replied, once the twins’s eyes stopped glazing.
“Oh, nonsense.” She wave her hand dismissively.
“Get the elves to make a buffet.” Dorea decided to interject, lest the situation turn to an interrogation. Her sister in law looked to her - and she silently warned her to end this conversation. “Darling, they’ve only just got here. we’ve got all the time in the world.” She smiled softly towards the twins, noticing Ara’s hesitant smile and Sirius’s nervous nod.
A buffet was in fact how her Charlus had helped her figure out her own tastes. Seeing his warm eyes meet hers with such fondness… she knew he was the only choice she could have made. And she had picked well. Her hand found his and clasped on gently.
“Very well then. But I’ll have to make sure we sort a reasonable dessert spread.” She nodded in reply, sensing Dorea’s meaning. “Do you both like chocolate?”
They nodded in reply.
“Wonderful! I’ll be sure to include a chocolate tart.” She winked.
As she left, Euphemia Potter was so caught up in her minor success that she failed to pay attention to the dreary aura surrounding the four lingering in the library.
If she had, she would have caught the tail-end of an incredibly serious discussion. Of a healing charm being cast on the two, and the deep frown on Dorea Potter’s face at the lingering magic of the cruciatus on Ara Black.
“I’ve been communicating with several other disowned and minor members of House Black.” The woman explained stiffly, willing her emotions to remain dormant. “We have found a compromise with those in charge of the House.”
“Go on.” Sirius whispered after a brief moment of stilted silence.
“Provided that we do not prevent your engagements in certain House affairs, the two of you are permitted to spend your future summers and other holidays with our family.” She scanned the two, noting their confusion.
“You don’t have to go back, kids.” Charlus offered a warm smile, clasping a hand on Sirius’s shoulder reassuringly.
“But what about Reggie?” Ara frowned. “If they’re willing to get rid of us, they won’t let him go.”
“Your uncle Alphard has promised to cover for him. We can’t get him out through legal means, but what we can do, is hide where he is when he goes away. Provided we find others to pretend he is visiting, your uncle will help us hide him over holidays.”
The two blinked up at Dorea, unable to truly believe her words.
“We’re going to get him out of there. I promise.” Charlus squeezed Sirius’s shoulder.
It sounds too good to be true, Ara whispered over the bond.
I don’t think they’d lie about something like this, Hermie.
“Would you both mind sharing your thoughts with me?” Dorea queried with a pointed look.
“I just… can you really get us all out?” Ara’s voice wavered, her twin finding her hand and gripping it between them.
The two Potters shared a sorrowful glance, a deep understanding in their glossy eyes. It was sort-of beautiful, that they could communicate with just a glance. That they were that in love and in sync with each other.
There was something so very lovely about sharing a soul with another.
“We will try our very hardest.” Dorea promised. “And we will not rest until the three of you are safe.”
“But we can’t do that if you aren’t honest with us.”
“Do you have any inclination of your parents plans for the three of you?”
Sirius shot Ara a glance, sensing the dread in her stomach.
“No.” She shook her head. His eyes found hers, narrowing in disbelief.
Please.
With a gulp, Sirius turned to the adults and shook his head to confirm her words.
Thank you, Siri.
——
“You lied.” Sirius frowned at her, the words erupting from his throat the very moment the door to their room slammed shut.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ara frowned back, nerves building as she felt his realisation blooming.
She moved to their bed, sitting on the plush duvet - watching as her twin paced. The cogs were turning.
“She asked about if we knew what our parents were up to, and you lied.” He muttered to himself, piecing it together. “You told her that you sleep fine, but it was a lie. You always have weird dreams.” And then, all at once, his mouth snapped shut and he looked utterly regretful as his eyes bulged once his brain caught up with his mouth.
“You knew? All this time?” Her eyes were wide, mouth frozen open as she let out a shaky exhale. Ara pushed through the bond, watching memories of Sirius waking up from her nightmares and pretending not to know what she dreamt. She tried to go deeper into the dreams, but he shoved her out. Blinking, she stared at her twin in disbelief. All her dreams, he’d seen and never said.
But she’d never said either.
“I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to protect you.” He spoke desperately.
“Sometimes protection isn’t needed. Especially when it should be my job to protect you!” She jumped from her seat, glaring him down.
“Stop going on about that! We protect each other, always have, but Walburga broke you and I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.”
“I deal with it every day.” She spat, bitterly - cringing at his wince.
“Which is why I didn’t want to add more for you to grieve. If I told you… if I’d come clean that you had… something special to you and she broke that… I couldn’t predict your reaction.”
“Well, I’m upset!” She snapped, before rubbing her hands over her face - trying to calm herself. His soft presence bled into their mind and she let it soothe her, let it wash over her senses. “When did we start keeping secrets?”
“We always have. You started it.”
“Really? ‘You started it’, fuck off.” She mocked. “I don’t even remember any of that part of my life! I was a child! You helped me build myself up from fragments, you gave me someone always on my team. But you made me up like how you are.”
“It was all I knew how.”
“And now I don’t know who I should have been. I don’t know who I was meant to become.”
“So what?” He shrugged.
“So what?” She spat, taken aback by his casual attitude.
“Yeah!” He growled. “So what if you could have been totally different? You’re who you are now. And I like you. Our friends like you.”
“But-”
“No! Stop it.” He ran a hand through his messy curls, wincing as he pulled through a tangle. “I get it, alright. I’ve been a part of your brain my whole life, and I get it. But you can’t keep thinking this, can’t keep wondering who you would have been. We are who we are now. There is no changing the past. I’m sorry I kept your dreams secret, I know it wasn’t fair and you deserved to know. But I won’t apologise for trying to protect you. I won’t ever apologise for that.”
“I know.” She sighed, deflating as she slumped back onto the duvet. “And I won’t ever apologise for protecting you either.”
“That’s how it works, isn’t it?” He quipped softly, prompting her to exhale a small laugh; moving to sit beside her.
“You have to promise me not to keep my dreams from me again.”
“Only if you promise to do the same.” He pinned her with a pointed look.
“Okay.”
“I’m not saying we have to sit after each one and analyse them, but… there are things I’ve noticed. Especially about fake-James.”
“I call him not-James!” She laughed.
“Looks proper like him though, doesn’t he?” She nodded. “Right down to the unruly hair, though James’s hair’s more-”
“Curly.” She filled in. “And not-James is paler.”
“Do you think we’ll hear his name soon?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I hope so, though. I think it’s… like a missing key. If I just knew that… I think I’d be able to figure it out better.”
“What do you mean? Like when in the future it is?” She blinked at him, suddenly processing his words from earlier.
“What?” Ara grit out, both confused and a little concerned.
Sirius flushed scarlet in response, looking away from her.
“I just…” his gaze flickered away from her and she poked him through their bond, forcing the words from his mouth. “I saw Bella in a dream when we were younger and she was old and evil!” He rushed out the sentence in one breath, wide eyes flashing to Ara in concern when he finished.
“Oh.” She finally replied, after a long staring contest. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to stop her.” She shrugged nonchalantly, already whizzing through a dozen different ways to help Bella be freed from her awful husband and whatever evil he was involved in. “I never really thought about the future.”
“I did.” Sirius shrugged. “I always thought you were a Seer growing up.”
“But I hate Divination!”
“Yeah, cause you didn’t realise that you’re a Seer!”
“Godric, this is ridiculous!” Ara breathed out an incredulous laugh.
“Our entire life is.” He shrugged, wrapping an arm around her - their heads meeting to rest against each other; an act so very practiced.
It was why it was so unexpected that she twisted, wrapping her arms around his middle. A small huff escaped his mouth at the impact, but he complied quickly and clutched her to his chest. They cradled each other like children, holding on desperately to something they simply couldn’t live without.
“What’s been up with you recently?” Ara asked him, finally. “You’ve been distant and weird for a while and I can feel the block you’re putting up. You keep spending more and more time with the boys, and sometimes it feels like you don’t want me around you.”
“Never.” She felt him shake his head.
“But there’s something wrong. You didn’t tell me that you saw the dreams, but it’s more than that.” She pulled them apart, griping his shoulders to force her twin to look her in the eyes.
Don’t make me say it, Hermie. He implored, desperation clinging to his words.
Don’t hide this from me, Siri. All these people in the world, and none of them are you. You are half my soul, half my mind. Please be honest with me.
“It’s like… I can see it.” He finally spoke. “On the horizon. This awful storm that just… obliterates us all. And we’re all caught in it - flying around in the worst part.” He sighed. “But you… you’re right in the eye of it. And it’s both horrifying and humbling. Because I’m both terrified for you and I feel so small in comparison to you.”
“Sirius.”
“I’m not book smart. I’m not deeply gifted in Charms like you, or good at DADA like Remus, or transfiguration like James, or even bloody Herbology like Peter. I’m average at everything. I coast through life, and people just let me. They expect it of me. And sometimes I look at you and I can’t help but feel so tiny next to you. Even though you’re causing pranks with us, Professors love you ‘cause you’re wicked in class. You even got swotty Evans to be somewhat civil for a bit, and she hates me. You glue everything together, and I’m just a tag along. You might every once in a while get a bit pissed, but you’re usually the one dragging me out of my anger. You’re the mature one, the one that Reggie likes, the one that gets along with everyone.
“And I don’t get it. I don’t. What makes us so different? We shared a womb, we share a bond and we grew up in the exact same house. What makes me so unlovable in comparison to you?” His voice broke on the final word; sobs escaping him as his twin wrapped her arms around him and held him tight - soothing him.
She didn’t dare speak, letting him cry out his frustrations. Because she understood and had no idea how he felt.
It was once his sobs had simmered, that she pulled back slightly - her hands on his arms as she smiled softly at him. His face was puffy and pink - eyes swollen from tears.
“I’m gonna get to the kind part soon, but I’m going to be a little mean first.” She pierced him with a serious look, but he saw right through it - relieved that he was still able to read his twin. “Don’t you dare call yourself unlovable. How dare you. You are so very loved. Sure Lily doesn’t like you. So what? Marlene thinks you’re wicked, and Mary’s still blushing at every mention of you, ever since you pantsed Mulciber for looking at her funny. And Alice likes your hair. You just don’t make the time with them. That’s why. Nothing else. You’ve decided that girls are some foreign object, as if you don’t have loads of things in common. Ask Marlene about Quidditch sometime, or Alice about her Plants - they absolutely cover the window now in the dorm - or ask Mary about her older brother and his football team. You’d love football, if you took the time to learn what it was.” She sighed, running her hand over twins cheek as he looked to her with pained understanding.
This was a wake up call for the both of them. This Summer had aged the Black twins. The Potters had noticed it when they arrived. Two children with the gazes of battle-hardened soldiers. The girl; refusing to speak of anything regarding her home, but more than willing to play pretend-daughter to the two women that invited her to their home. They’d chat about arbitrary things but every once in a while, she’d slip up and catch the two adults look at her with sorrow. Never pity - it was obvious she loathed pity - but a deep sort of grief that only a mother could know. The boy was no better; good at pretending to be excited and enthusiastic, but always never quite perfectly. Every smile was a little too short, every laugh a little too feigned. He’d speak of his home, but only in metaphors regarding his mother and in mentioning that his sister didn’t like talking about it.
It seemed that was that. If Ara wouldn’t talk, neither would her twin. And so, both withered away int heir independent isolation.
This talk was long overdue and so very needed. A clearing of murky air, of refreshing a bond that they hadn’t even noticed fading. It was dangerous, how easy it was to pull apart. As if they weren’t each other’s lifeline.
“And Reggie likes you. He really does. He loves you so much. But you both have claims over the Heirship and it has always put you at odds. It was Wally’s fault at first but Father definitely hasn’t helped. They’ve always forced this rivalry between you, this competition over who gets to lead our House. And I have always refused to be part of it. It’s why Reggie and I can get along as well as we do. But, and swear to never tell him this,” she extended a pinky and he wrapped his own around it, “you have always been my favourite twin, and my favourite brother. I could never pick between the two of you, but there is no one in this world that knows me as well as you. Even when I’m keeping secrets and even when I’m acting mad. You are the one person that knows what the inside of my brain looks like. And I know what yours looks like. Right now, its so full of self doubt and loathing and I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
The bond opened and he flashed a glimpse of memory, frowning at the sight. His back - hand outstretched towards their mother. He blinked the vision away, feeling her hand rest against his cheek.
“My first memory is you saving me from her that day. You would have gotten Gryffindor with or without me, because you are a brave boy. You are loyal and you are kind and you are so very loved. I don’t know why we’re so different. Why you like the death sport of Quidditch,” he let out a soft laugh, “or why I’d rather curl up in a library with a good book. Or why you have a sharper nose than me. Or why I’m better at Charms and you’re better at cartography and astronomy. I don’t know. But I’m okay not knowing. Because I know that no matter what, we are the same in so many regards. And I’m so sorry I haven’t been letting you know how much you mean to me.”
“Always and forever, right Hermie?” He muttered shyly, pausing in his nerves as his twin fixed him with a beaming smile.
“Promise, Siri.” She whispered back, softly; her hand moving to brush through his unruly curls. “We have our whole lives ahead of us to fight and resent each other. So can we both agree to make sure that our bond, and our love, is always the foremost part of our connection?”
“I promise to try.”
“Good.” She nodded, pulling her twin’s head into her lap to play with his hair. “We can’t let them win. We can’t let Wally’s meddling disrupt us any longer.”
“I know.” He sighed lightly. “I used to think I could handle home til I was seventeen. Then I’d move out onto a friends sofa and wake up at lunch time every day. Figure out how to be a person.” Sirius confessed.
“Where am I in all of this?” Ara elbowed him in the ribs. He groaned before they erupted into a little bubble of giggles. Soon quieted, however, as Ara felt the melancholy from Sirius through the bond. She didn’t need to read through his thoughts to know what he was thinking.
Running away as the failed attempt at an heir was a lot easier than running away as the only daughter. Especially when Andy had already split. They wouldn’t be letting that happen again. Pureblood daughters were a commodity.
“In my best dreams, you’re kipping on the other end and I keep waking up with your feet in my face.” “In my worst ones, I stand by your side at a wedding and try not to throw up on your dress.”
Ara did not reply. The quiet between them grew soothing, and it lingered. Better not to talk of what may be. Not when they’d finally been honest with each other.
So maybe he didn’t need to know a certain secret, one Ara hadn’t even told the Potters.
But there was one that she didn’t think would hurt to tell him. Especially given that she knew he had already pieced the clues together himself.
“Remus is a werewolf.”
“He told you first?” Sirius cried out indignantly.