He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another
20th May 1973
“Anything interesting in the paper?” James spoke by way of greeting, slumping onto the sofa beside Sirius.
The Gryffindor Common Room was abuzz with chatter that morning as the Muggleborn members set up shop in the corner - selling pins and badges for the workers strikes up North. Lily was situated with them, counting coins as the older students grinned down at her, proudly. She had been avoiding the boys, given that their little feud with Severus was escalating. Just the other week, she’d caught James shooting a tripping hex at the Slytherin that had rolled him halfway down an enchanted staircase. And though Lily couldn’t prove that James put hair-raising potion in her shampoo… the glimmer as something rushed from the bathroom with a squeak identical to James Potter’s trainers and the shrill ringing as the stairs turned into a slide gave her pause. Even if boys weren’t supposed to be able to get into the girls dorms. It was safe to say that she and James were beginning to not get along.
Ara, naturally, was stuck in the middle - forced to try and mediate a feud based on a perceived slight against her and young boys’ egos. Frankly, she was sick of the boys and Severus fighting all the time. Especially considering that Sirius refused to accept that Ara didn’t care about the boy pushing her over, nearly two years prior. It was infuriating, and she wanted no part in it.
Marlene sat playing chess in the corner, Alice helping her strategise against her third year contender. They had invited Ara to join, the gloomy girl thanking them for the offer but citing studying to not witness one of Marlene’s great tantrums once the older boy checked her queen. Marlene was many delightful things, but she was not a good loser.
Though, it seemed that only James was exempt from her meltdowns. Apparently, they’d spent some time together as children - both viewing the other as a cousin of sorts. They lived near to each other in Dorset; their family Manors only a meadow apart. Not that James really acknowledged it; Ara having soaked the information from one of hers and Marlene’s late night gossip sessions. She’d told Ara that losing to James wasn’t really a loss as she’d painted her nails crimson, considering the boy too dense to win by more than accident.
The other second years had taken up the sofas by the windows; much to the chagrin of the older students that were puffing at their cigarettes - forced to stand on the balcony by the prefects to be away from the children.
Opposite Sirius and James sat Ara and Peter - both hunched over his notes for Herbology as they studied for their exams, Remus peering over their shoulders to add comments whenever he turned a page of his novel; dark circles below his worn eyes from a few days before - new pink scars by his ears. It was a new muggle story about a fox and three grizzly farmers, one he promised to let the others read as it was apparently incredible, even if it was for kids. Peter just liked the illustrator - desperate to borrow the book so he could attempt to draw the tree in it.
As James looked over at his friends, he could not help his captivation with Ara’s changed hair.
Over Easter, she had finally relented and permit Dorea and Euphemia to tame her curls with his father’s invention. Indeed, they were even more lovely now - softly cascading in dark curls down her back without a hint of frizz. When James had seen her, his jaw had dropped so dramatically that Ara had feared it was broken.
Sirius had merely laughed, unnoticing of Regulus’s pointed scowl at the Potter boy.
“There’s this new bullshit gossip columnist.” Sirius scowled, tossing the paper harshly at his sister to stop himself reading it. It connected with her stomach, the girl letting out an oof as she stumbled to catch it. “Sorry.” Sirius mumbled, bashful under her scowling gaze.
Scanning the page, her face scrunched in disgust - scoffing at the wording.
The sound attracted Lily’s attention; the ginger’s head popping up at her friend’s derision.
“What does it say?” James asked, resting his elbow on the sofa to prop up his chin on his palm.
“Apparently this new gossiper knows that I was the first one betrothed to Malfoy from House Black.” Ara shuddered. “She’s written a bunch of codswallop about the wedding, saying Narcissa was meant to be betrothed to Sirius and that with the Black daughters all in arrangements, it’ll be my brothers turn next.”
“Toss it here.” Remus signalled, catching the paper and holding it between himself and Lily as she joined the group.
“Rita Skeeter?” Lily’s nose scrunched. “What an awful name.”
“She knows about the first betrothal.” Sirius frowned. “I didn’t think anyone knew.”
“They don’t.” Ara confirmed. “Someone’s been leaking family secrets.”
“Bugger.”
“What’s wrong?” Lily frowned, chewing her lip as she continued to scan the page.
“We’re so getting blamed for this.” Ara groaned.
“You might not be. None of us would ever think you’d contact the papers.” James tried to reassure, though it had no effect.
“You wouldn’t.” Sirius pointed out. “Doesn’t mean our parents will see it the same.” He huffed, mood worsening by the second. James’s eyes flickered over to Ara, an awkward smile twitching at her lips as she shrugged.
“Sirius, did you see how they referred to you?” Remus frowned as he let Lily keep hold of the paper.
“Let me see?” Pete asked, extending a hand toward Lily. He pulled the paper under his nose, scanning the page closely as he read aloud. “‘The young heir to House Black (though, if one speaks to his mother she might disagree with such a title) is now one of the most viable bachelors - and at thirteen! With Ara Hermione Black finally betrothed after a decade of searching, it is anyone’s guess whether the family will be quick to sign their son away too. Especially considering the age differences so very common in marriages of their family. Indeed, Ara Black is less than half the age of her betrothed, Lord Olin Flint - so likely her twin will be settled with some witch of a similar caliber. An inside source reports that the elder Greengrass cousins have begun to vie for the contract, though whether the family will support their efforts (considering that there are several halfbloods in the family tree) is anybody’s guess…”
“Stop reading!” Sirius screamed, ripping from his seat and storming from the Common Room in thundering steps.
“Sorry.” Peter winced, placing the paper down nervously.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Ara reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Give him ten minutes, and then ask him if he wants to go to the kitchens.” Ara shrugged. “He’ll be alright then, I promise.”
“Are you alright?” Her eyes flicked up to James in surprise.
“Quite.” She nodded, awkwardly. “Now I’m shackled, it was bound to happen. I just hope they wait until he’s of age before they finalise things.” She sighed, tugging at the ugly silver on her wrist.
Wordlessly, Pete placed his hand upon it - offering a reassuring smile. He needn’t say anything, his good intentions felt so very well by all around. He was a kind boy.
“Thanks, Petey.” Ara smiled back, ducking to kiss him on the cheek briefly. “You’re a good friend.”
As she moved back to sit, ignoring Peter’s redness at her affection, the hazel eyes of James Potter caught her own granite gaze. They paused, locked for just a moment. Sharing a smile the others did not notice.
And, just as quickly as it had started, they both looked away.
——
18th June 1973
It was a bizarre moment. Never in her life had Ara thought the Headmaster would pay attention to her.
She’d noticed him. It was hard not to, with his odd fashion sense and growing white beard. The cold glint to his eyes as he would scan the Great Hall; twinkling behind his glasses uncomfortably.
She’d hardly expected him to notice her too - even if she was a Black in Gryffindor House. Sirius was the rowdier of them both, and Reg was far more interesting considering he was a Hufflepuff. In her baby brother’s time at Hogwarts, Ara had learned that Hufflepuff was by far the coolest of the Houses. They knew how to find the kitchens as a matter of course; their Common Room lined with gorgeous flowers and medieval weapons. Helga had been a fighter as well as a botanist, after all.
Ticking rang in her ears - dozens of ornate clocks lining the walls of Dumbledore’s office. Professor McGonagall had pulled her from Potions, citing a need to speak to the utterly puzzled girl. Immediately, the older woman had escorted her through the halls - leading her to a gargoyle that moved aside when she spoke the phrase ‘curly wurly’.
It was with a tense but kind smile that she had left the younger witch in the office, telling her to take a seat and informing her that she would be expecting high marks from the bright witch in her end of year exams. Ara had weakly joked that Lily would far surpass her - the twitch of her upper lip the only sign of her Head of House’s amusement.
The first few minutes she’d been sat there, Ara had been utterly convinced that she was about to be yelled at for all the mischief she’d been part of over the year. From charming the staircases to spin uncontrollably, to setting firecrackers in random hallways to startle unsuspecting students… she and her boys had conducted a great display of devilry. And despite the laughs it elicited - how Pandora would nod to them proudly and tell them they were brilliant - she knew it was technically against school rules. Though, those thoughts were quickly dismissed as she considered that if it were regarding those matters, her boys would be beside her.
Then she’d thought that perhaps he needed to discuss her third year options with her - considering her lack of coursework through the year. She’d picked three electives and to continue Astronomy despite McGonagall’s warnings. It was nothing compared to the four electives Lily had chosen, especially considered the girls tested nearly identically. Ara was certain that her professors loathed her ability to wing every day and score nearly full marks. She was certain Lily did.
The office itself was surprisingly well decorated, especially compared to the offices of other Professors. Lining thin tables below the clocks were odd silver instruments, puffing smoke as they clicked in time with the ticks. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all slumbering in their frames.
Those were not the most interesting part of the room, however.
Beside the large, claw footed desk she sat in front of, was an ornate golden perch. Upon it, shrunken into itself with missing feathers and dull eyes, was a decrepit looking bird that was crying.
Ara Black very much understood the red bird’s squawking tears; she too did not like the ambiance of the office. It looked to her with heavy eyes, nodding once as she watched it sniffle.
And then, the weeping bird - without warning or grace - burst into a flaming ball.
Desperately, she stood - watching in horror as the creature exploded in one great burst before turning to ash on the floor.
The office door swung open; Dumbledore gliding in with a somber expression. A silly blend of a grey muggle suit and bright purple robes coating his tall frame.
“I’m so sorry, your bird just…” Ara babbled, freezing for a moment as she looked between the ash and the Headmaster. “Well, he just exploded.”
“About time, too.” He merely smiled in reply, moving through the room. “He’s been looking rotten for days, but he’s a stubborn thing.”
“Sir, you actually own a phoenix?” Ara gawped, falling into the chair in shock.
“Indeed I do.” Dumbledore chuckled, seating himself behind his desk. “It’s a shame you had to see him on a burning day. He really is a beauty when he’s well.”
“And dangerously powerful.” She frowned slightly.
“Sometimes, the most beautiful things are.”
“Is this why I’m here? For a chat about your bird?”
“I’m afraid not.” The man sighed, resting his hands on his desk as he scanned the younger witch sombrely. “I’ve heard some alarming details from the Gryffindor prefects.” He peered over his spectacles, twinkling eyes piercing her intently. “Forgive me child, but I must ask; what do you dream about?”
Ara blinked in awful surprise, wishing her twin was by her side.
I’m here, Hermie, her twin’s voice broke through - reassuring in a way that no other could be. We’ll do this together.
“I have nightmares. About things I don’t understand, about a girl I don’t know. I dream about her life and all the awful things that happen to her.” She confessed finally.
“Intriguing.” He mused, hand scratching at his long beard. Behind his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore’s blue eyes flickered to hers - a sharp pain resounding in her left mind.
What’s he doing? Sirius whispered over the bond, clutching the left side of his face as he absorbed the pain.
“I don’t appreciate legitimency being used on me, Sir.” Ara grit out, forcing the gold of the bond to coat her mind.
With a blink, the glimmer to Dumbledore’s eyes faded; an eerily soft smile coating his face in apology.
“I apologise, Miss Black. I merely wished to perhaps see them for myself.”
“There is only one person allowed in my mind, and that’s my twin.” She warned, her wand slipping from her sleeve into her hand - his eyes flickering to the red wood.
“I understand.”
“Good.” Ara nodded.
“That is an interesting wand you have. May I see it?”
Cautiously, she placed her wand into his offered hand - narrowing her eyes as he ran a finger along the markings.
He knows something. Something about me.
But what? Her twin pondered.
“I must ask you, dear, whether there is anything you would like to tell me.” He asked gently. “Anything at all.”
“No, sir.”
“Very well. I think it would be best if you came to me regarding these dreams of yours, in future.” Despite the calm tone and warmth to his voice; there was a coolness, so very familiar to the twins behind his words. “We wouldn’t want to worry Minerva with such a matter.” It was a self-possessed, dangerous need to control. She was merely a new pawn on the board to him.
And neither twin liked it.
I trust him as far as I can throw him, Sirius warned. Get out of there, Ara.
“Certainly, Headmaster.” Ara answered stiffly. “May I return to my dorm now?”
“Of course.” He nodded, a kind smile plastered across his face. It was almost natural - his insincerity given away by the cool twinkle of his eyes. “And I wish you a happy summer at the Potter Manor.”
“I hope you have a good summer too, sir.” Ara smiled tightly, nodding once before she stood to leave.
We really have to talk to Dorea and Charlus, the Black twins agreed.