Time In A Bottle
I’ve looked around enough to know
That you’re the one I wanna go through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that would never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory of how they were answered by you
5th April 1974
She awoke to silence.
Sure there was bird song and hints of people awake and moving through the house, but those did not penetrate the silence enveloping Ara Black that morning.
Her mind was quiet. Too worn down to be functional, all energy lost to the very act of waking.
Her eyes blinked automatically, gaze fixed on the gold curtains - blocking the morning light.
Most days, her thoughts swirled between fear and self-loathing. But with her twin’s brightness skirting the surface, it was easy to push it back and live contentedly. At least, that was what she told herself. As though she weren’t still caught in a bad mood most of the time; struggling to put on a happy face on the best of days. A pain she could not form into words. One she felt deep in her bones; a weariness so out of place on such a young girl.
Sometimes, she would wish for silence.
These days came to remind her what a foolish wish that was.
Because these days were always worse. The pain did not lessen with the quiet, it merely hummed in its place. An agony that stilled her completely.
The only reprieve was that she could never quite remember the day.
Ara suspected Sirius had a part in that - trimming at the memories of being frozen and pained so she would not dwell too long on the silence.
He was always there on her silent days, after all. Keeping her clean and comfortable - calming the storm with gentle words and love so very whole and bright.
“I’ll be back after breakfast,” Sirius soothed that morning, carding his hands through her hair. “And I’ll pick out one of those rubbish books you like and read it since Reg isn’t here to do it.”
She closed her eyes.
“And I’ll smuggle you some potions.” He continued, filling the silence. “I just know Monty’s all stocked up, probably went on a brewing rampage when he realised we’d be coming home.”
It was with dutiful care that Sirius went about a morning routine of a special kind. After brushing his own hair, he moved onto his sister’s - twisting the curls into a messy braid to keep them out her face. After getting dressed, he helped her get to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Made sure she was decent and changed into fresh comfy clothes. He tucked her back into bed with carefulness, silently wishing Regulus was there to help.
Their younger brother was better at these things than him. More patient, more able to stand the silence. Sirius supposed that he was already used to it in a way. After all, only Sirius could hear Ara inside his head. The absence of the thrum of her steady thoughts and feelings… it ached. Like a limb that had gone numb.
He felt it all the way down the stairs, as he walked through the hallways of Potter Manor.
“Morning.” Sirius yawned as he slumped into his chair at the breakfast table.
Only Charlus and Dorea remained - clear signs of the other Potters having already gotten up and started with their days scattered across the table.
“Good morning, my star.” Dorea smiled, passing a dish of bacon and sausage his way. Sirius beamed at the gesture, busying himself with preparing his plate.
“Is your sister already in the library?” Charlus asked, a little amused. “I ought to put a curfew on it.”
“Nah, she’s just in bed. It’s a silent day.” Sirius shrugged, moving to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice.
“Silent day?” Dorea queried politely, busying herself with spreading jam on her slice of toast. Ara had gotten her addicted to the sugary stuff, she was a little embarrassed to admit.
“You know,” he shrugged, brow furrowed in confusion, “days when your brain is silent so you have to stay in bed.”
“Her mind is silent?”
“I couldn’t hear anything.” He took a sip of his drink; ignorant to the nervous glances being exchanged by the others.
“Sirius, love.” Dorea spoke softly. “I’m afraid we don’t understand what you mean.”
“It’s happened since we were kids.” He spoke slowly, hesitantly. Only encouraged to continue by the kind eyes of the Potter couple. “Sometimes she uses her brain too much, so it takes a day off. Nothing’ll move her, not even Wally.” He winced, without noticing - the couple exchanging a horrified glance, their imagination rife with ways Walburga Black would have tried to solve such an issue. “It hasn’t happened in a since we were last at Grimmauld, but with everything going on… you know? But I helped her use the bathroom this morning, and I’ll help her at lunch too so she’ll be alright. Reg usually reads to her, but I can do it for him.”
“Love, we aren’t saying that you can’t look after her. We only want to help as well.” Dorea reassured.
“Why don’t you find James?” Charlus squeezed Sirius’s shoulder. “We’ll look after her, don’t worry.”
“Alright.” Sirius nodded, the word falling from his lips so very softly. “You promise?”
“I solemnly swear it.” He nodded, Sirius hesitantly standing. He wavered for a moment, words on his tongue that he did not know how to express. Dorea shared a rueful glance with her husband, standing and approaching the boy before wrapping him in a tight embrace.
“She’ll be alright, my star.” Dorea promised, gently stroking his hair. “And thank you for trusting us with such information. I promise you, we’re going to help.”
He looked up at her with burning eyes - tears building along his lashes as he nodded, hiding a sniffle. Perhaps, oh Merlin how she hoped, he might finally believe her. She hoped it to every god and every saint that it was true.
Sirius awkwardly pulled away, nervously adjusting his shirt as he wrapped his arms around himself - looking so very small for such a rowdy boy. He bade them both a good day before rushing out of the dining room; letting his feet quickly take him away to the comforts of James Potter and their easy friendship.
Knowing that this odd couple would fill in as best they could that morning. He’d take over in the afternoon, of course, but maybe… well, it’d be nice to let James distract him from the silence.
Charlus and Dorea watched the boy part with soft eyes and sorrowful smiles. Tidying away the remnants of breakfast with a whip of their wands for the house elves to clean up later. Picked themselves up and let their feet guide them to the bedroom.
The former Black did not bother to knock, instead gently twisting the door unlocked and waltzing in. Halting at the sight of the still mound in the bed.
Ara Black, eyes gazing to the wall unfocused. Her hair in a terribly tied braid, body too still. This girl was always moving. Always twisting a curl, tapping a finger… anything. Not this motionless thing. This horrifyingly reminiscent… no. She simply couldn’t bear it.
And she froze. Paralysed by the truth, laid bear and bloody. House Black was killing this girl. In all her plotting, she had relied on the hope that the siblings were all strong enough to cope until they came of age. That they had grit and bear it for fourteen years and could handle three more.
She couldn’t. Their little warrior; the eldest child that spent her youth standing in front of her brothers, taking lashes for their sakes. The one that had been broken, so completely that it had shattered her mind at only five years old. Each piece that Dorea put together of the story terrified her. The confession from Regulus, at Yuletide past, that his sister had been changed greatly by their mothers wand. His hasty backtrack, the promise she made not to ask any more of him… it was too much not to know. And she suspected it would be far greater to know the truth.
So she froze.
But not Charlus.
Not her Charlus.
“Hello, little one.” Charlus smiled as he ran her fingers through Ara’s curls - crouched before her bedside. It faltered slightly at the blank look to her face; the vacant emptiness in her eyes. Still, he pulled it on anew and hummed to himself. “I heard that we’re having a day in bed, today.” He whispered, as though it were some great and exciting secret plot. “So I plan to tuck myself in beside you, and enjoy your company.”
The older wizard pulled himself to be stood briefly; shedding his outer robe and slippers as he gently climbed onto the bed beside the young girl. Sitting himself against the pillows, Charlus pulled Ara’s head into his lap - combing the curls from her face with soft touches.
The turntable in the corner came to life as Dorea placed the needle. A song the younger girl knew; closing her eyes as she let the noise fill the silence.
It bled over the bond, soft French lyrics in the back of Sirius’s mind as he hummed along. Satisfied in his sister’s contentment.
The mattress dipped as Dorea joined the bed on Ara’s other side; her hand joining with hers in a simple gesture that meant so very much. Cracking the spine of one of Ara’s Muggle novels and reading in a muted voice.
They stayed that way for the morning.
And Ara, despite the silence of her mind - the inability to form thoughts beyond traces - had never felt so loved.
——
It was the first in a very long time, that Sirius had felt content on one of his twin’s off days.
There was a calm to it now. A peace bleeding through the cracks in their mind.
A freedom. Godric, what freedom.
James was in his usual holiday finery; grass stained shirts and plain slacks, good for spontaneous sport. There had been a change to the Potter boy over the past few months. With all of Ara’s outbursts and Sirius’s twin-stressing… the Black heir had hardly taken the time to properly talk to his best mate. To plan their future endeavours - places to prank and people to see. Or, perhaps the other way around.
“Can we go inside yet?” Sirius whined - hand over his eyes. They’d spent half the morning flying around the grounds, until James had started yawning and Sirius’s bum had begun to ache. Then they’d elected to cloud watch. The two were rather pants at it, only finding half-baked ideas of objects in the fluffy whiteness. After James had sworn that he could make out a stick with eagle wings, Sirius had begun begging to go back in. “I’m starting to burn.” He gave as his fifth excuse.
“Your problem.” James shrugged, turning his head to face Sirius. Not that the other boy noticed; eyes still buried under his arm. “Not my fault you’re pale as a ghost.” He grinned, watching his friend’s face scrunch.
“Twat.”
“Pillock.”
“Wanker.”
“Dickhead.”
“Can we got inside yet?” Sirius whined, finally turning to face James - hand off his eyes as he glared.
“Yeah, alright.”
With that, they trekked into the Manor; the growling of Sirius’s stomach prompting James to suggest they get a snack from the kitchen. Naturally, upon their arrival, the Potter elf Poppet had decided that she must make the boys some proper chocolate tarts. To practice a batch before Regulus arrived, she swore. Though the wink she gave James suggested otherwise.
“Is Ara leaving your room today?” James asked as he tossed an apple, sat upon the counter as they watched Poppet whizz around the kitchen. “Or is she holed up in the library with the new books Uncle Charlus bought her?”
“It’s a silent day.” Sirius shrugged, awkwardly - speaking around the tangerine in his cheeks. “But she’ll be about tomorrow, I think.”
“Alright then.” James shrugged back, shifting the conversation with ease towards Quidditch tryouts and Ravenclaw’s awful strategy so far in games that year. For a House of intelligence, they were truly pants at planning plays.
Sirius relaxed into his perch against the counter, barking a laugh at appropriate times. Chiming in with ridiculous comments, and smiling at the fact that James was truly the best friend he could have asked for.
They moved to sit in one of the sitting rooms once the tarts were finished. Off, with a warning to be sneaky from Poppet, since she didn’t want to make a batch for his parents yet.
“Where is this place, anyways?” Sirius asked between a mouthful of pastry, wiping crumbs with his sleeve as James wrinkled his nose.
“You don’t know?” He gawped, laughing with fondness. “It’s on the edge of Dorset, mate. Near Corfe Castle.”
“I swear Marlene said she lived by there.” Sirius pondered, brow scrunched as he thought back to her words, ages ago at a girls night. He kept getting invited due to Ara, not that he was complaining. His skin looked far better than all the other boys in the dorm.
“Marlene only lives five minutes away.” James shrugged, finishing his party before he spoke again. “We used to hang out all the time as children.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Dunno.” James shrugged a second time, though it was clear he knew the answer. Still, Sirius supposed he had secrets of his own. “I guess, we both went off to Hogwarts and found our own paths. She hangs out with the Ravenclaws more than any Gryffindor girls. Except maybe Alice.” He mused.
“Suppose we had to swap someone for Pandora.” Sirius laughed. “You should invite her round over summer, though. Bet she’ll invite some of the girls.” Sirius waggled his eyebrows.
“Are you seriously advocating for snogging your sister’s dorm mates?” James laughed, shaking his head.
“Only Marlene.” Sires grinned, waggling his brows.
“Gross!” James blanched, shivering involuntarily at the very idea. “She’s like my cousin.”
“Blacks marry their cousins, you know.” Sirius barked a laugh.
“I wish I didn’t.”
——
6th April 1974
“My stars,” Dorea called from the bottom of the stairs, “would you mind popping to the sitting room, briefly?”
Groaning, Sirius pulled himself onto his elbows.
The twins had spent the morning in the library with James - Ara reading aloud to the two boys as they lounged on opposite sofas. It was a novel from Reg’s list, one Henry Jordan and David Moon had recommended. Some science-fiction, detailing android aurors in a bizarre future society.
Ara hadn’t been quite up for a day of adventures; a little bleary eyed and sorrowful when she’d exited her room that morning to find James waiting outside. He’d brought breakfast, just in case she wasn’t feeling up for a big meal and suggested they spend the morning in the library.
Times like that, she was so very glad to have a friend that understood her.
“I wonder what she’s calling us for.” Ara pondered aloud, jumping from her armchair to join Sirius as he waltzed over. Linking their arms, the boy bid their friend goodbye and led his sister down the stairs.
Maybe Reggie managed to get us a letter, Sirius hoped between them.
Maybe, Ara shrugged, at least it’ll be interesting. I just hope it’s not about yesterday.
I doubt it, Sirius reassured, I think they got it, you know?
I hope so, Ara sighed, clearly done with the matter.
Instead, she leant her lead on her twin’s shoulder. Waited as he knocked on the sitting room door, eyes on her feet.
The door creaked open with a warm smile from Dorea, though Sirius hardly noticed as he projected his vision into his twin’s eyes. Her head shot up in shock as the images caught up with her and Dorea stepped aside - a faint laugh twinkling from her lips.
“Uncle Alphard!” Sirius gasped, rushing towards the man with a beaming smile. He was caught by strong arms, pulled into a warm embrace.
“What are you doing here?” Ara exclaimed as she followed suit, joining the hug.
“Someone had to bring the baby home.” He grinned, dropping them in a practiced way back onto their feet. As he stepped to the side, a boy of only thirteen was revealed - his hair pressed flat on his head in an unusual style.
“Reggie!” Ara breathed, wrapping her brother in her arms. He simply melted into her embrace.
Sirius and Ara had been raised by their parents. Through crackles of harsh magic, broken bones and bloodied eyes. No one had kissed their skinned knees or sang them to sleep. But Reg… he was theirs. The proud consequence of Ara and Sirius’s teachings and support. The little boy they cradled and adored. Tucked into bed with stories and whispers of dreams and plans. He was the best of them.
He was theirs.
“You look all Pureblood.” Sirius laughed, ruffling a hand through his brother’s hair once his siblings had parted. Reg grinned up at him, shaking out his hair a little more as Ara gently ran her fingers through it to separate the gel. The trio so caught in their reunion that they hardly noticed Alphard drift away - following Dorea through the doors.
“Mother refused to let me keep the length unless it was properly styled.” He scowled briefly, his brow relaxing as Ara continued to pull the strands apart with careful touches.
“I think we may need to wash it out.” Ara huffed as she wiped the hair grease on her trousers before ruffling his hair to loosen it further. “I can’t believe she used actual product, not just a spell.”
“That would have been too easy to remove.” Sirius barked a laugh, nudging Reg’s shoulder with his own. “Wally has to make everything a challenge.”
“Let’s go upstairs and sort it out.” Ara sighed in an over-the-top manner, winking to Reg as she went to check their exit.
“I’ve checked him over.” She heard Alphard whisper to Dorea as she reached the door - hand almost at the handle. “No cruciatus, but signs of smaller Dark hexes. I think she used a skin-stripping hex but he won’t take off the turtleneck and let me see. Bloody stubborn children.” He huffed.
“They are Blacks. We’re a stubborn bunch.” Dorea mused, her voice strained.
Ara decided not to eavesdrop any longer; opting to spin and grab her baby brother to tug him through the doors - straight past Dorea and Alphard and up the stairs. She did not stop moving until they reached his room; Sirius close behind to prevent Reg escaping. If they had glanced back, they might have seen the look exchanged between the two adult Blacks as they’d stalked past the pair.
“Take off the ruddy shirt.” Ara warned her baby brother, the very second she clicked his bedroom door shut. Spinning to face him, she was met with a look of pure dread.
“It’s not that bad.” He tried to reassure her; the lie given away by the wince he held at even speaking, clearly winded by their paced movements.
“Take it off, Reg.” Sirius stepped closer, a look of worry creasing his brow. “Please.”
“Fine.” He sighed, lowering his head slightly as he awkwardly fiddled with the hem. “But… I’m alright. It wasn’t bad. She just… she found out about my shit marks in Astronomy and how I play chess with David.” He huffed a derisive laugh; so very out of place on the young boy.
“Reggie.” Ara spoke softly, eyes warm and loving. “Let us help.”
He acquiesced after only a moment, nervously tugging the fabric over his head.
“It isn’t that bad, honest.” He tried to reassure them as Ara gently touched his shoulder and spun him around.
His back had been carved into; a thick rectangular strip cut away, down the right shoulder. Ara winced as she pulled out her wand, casting the healing spells she’d learned from Madame Pomphrey healing Remus. After enough mornings sitting with her friend once he came through the Hospital Wing doors, she had accidentally memorised Pomphrey’s quiet chants and each of their meanings. Though, it had its uses. The skin on Regulus’s back began to heal over, pink and redness fading into a large pale scar, slightly deeper than the rest of his skin. A scar that would fade away as he grew, stretching with each spurt.
His relief was shown in how he sobbed as the pain evaporated and finally straightened his spine as he turned to cling to her middle and thank her profusely.
“Oh Reggie.” She sighed, holding him as they rocked back and forth.
A knock sounded at the door - the siblings pulling apart and wiping their eyes hastily.
“Am I alright to come in?” Alphard asked from behind the door. With a glance and nod between the three, Sirius opened the door and invited the wizard inside. His gaze immediately settled on Regulus’s shirtless torso with a pointed brow. “I had wondered.” He spoke.
“I’ve already healed him.” Ara spoke stubbornly, raising her chin as she folded her arms over her chest. “We’re fine.”
“I’m so very sorry that you believe that.” Alphard replied, heavily, reaching to pull Sirius into his side. In one sweep, he collected the other two into a large hug. It was a little awkward - unfamiliar to be certain - but by no means unwanted or unwelcome.
“Will we see you again, soon?” Reg asked as they were released, his hand reaching for his sister’s in a childlike gesture.
“I hesitate to say.” Alphard sighed; turmoil clear in his eyes.
“Wally’ll never let us go.” Sirius sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “If we aren’t there, who’s she got to blame things on? Kreacher?”
“I’m so very impressed by you kids.” Alphard let out a little laugh, knocking Sirius’s chin with his knuckle as he looked to the three with fondness. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen more of you.”
“Will you at least try to visit?” The elder boy asked nervously, preparing for the inevitable disappointment.
“I’ll do my best. I’m afraid my role in this is to run interference. I promised your caregivers that I would keep you three in their reach and the best way to do it, is if I stay away. If I keep your parents distracted.”
“How do you plan on that?” Regulus asked, now leant into Ara’s side; her arm over his shoulder.
“Did you think your siblings were the first mischievous Blacks?” He smirked. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“Be careful.” Ara pulled away from Regulus to wrap her arms around his middle, the older wizard looking down at her with surprise at the contact. One hug was rare for Blacks. Two… that was simply unheard of. Hesitantly, he moved his arms around her.
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” He smiled down at her, knocking her chin with his knuckle.
——
After two cups of tea and a heaving serving of Poppet’s chocolate cake, Regulus was looking much brighter. His skin was pink with laughter; James having managed to get the boy into a debate about whether Wizarding chess or muggle chess was most translatable into song. With key points such as the capabilities of a composer to accurately style the tense monarchial tones of the game - or how well the violence of the Wizarding pieces being smashed could be done without muggle instruments. By the end of James’s impression of a bishop being splintered (done in the style of muggle drums), tea came out of Reg’s nose and Monty had to try and stop Ara from choking on a biscuit.
Eventually, it was settled that they would take their debate to the music room.
Regulus cracked his knuckles, flexing out his fingers above the keys. They hovered for a moment; twitching as he shut his eyes.
He began softly. Gentle notes, an idle tune. One that built and built into something truly gorgeous.
For a moment, in that cozy room, they were just kids. Children playing songs for each other; without threat of pain for missing notes or adding flourishes. They could make the tunes themselves. Sirius humming along, James chiming in with odd scatting as Ara giggled at their silliness.
As Regulus sounded the final note, the group erupted into applause - suddenly caught off guard as two vastly different claps sounded behind them.
“I didn’t know you could play.” Charlus spoke warmly from the doorway, as the group spun with wide eyes and red faces. “That was bloody impressive.”
“Thank you.” Reg looked to his toes bashfully.
“He’s the only one of us with the patience to sit through Wally’s lessons.” Sirius grinned, always the first to recover. “Ara tried, but she had to learn from Bella in the end.”
“Really?” Dorea smiled.
“Bella’s an amazing pianist.” Ara gushed, nodding enthusiastically. “Aunt Druella tried to make her learn the violin too but she kept snapping the strings.”
“Not as bad as when Wally tried to make you learn the flute.” Sirius snickered, elaborating upon the Potter couple’s confused expressions. “She broke it in half and tossed the pieces over the hedges at the end of the garden.”
“It was too high pitched!” Ara whined (in an embarrassingly pitchy tone), clearly disgruntled with her brother’s sharing as she glared at him. “At least I managed to pick up something. You were so pants at using the bow on your cello that you tried holding it up and playing it with your hands.”
“Like a guitar?” James excitedly asked.
“Pretty much,” Sirius nodded, grinning broadly, “I recon I’d be dead good if I got one.”
“You’d be equally as terrible as you were at the cello and you know it, Siri.” Regulus laughed as his brother made a crude gesture, Dorea reprimanding him softly as he turned beet red. “Hermie, come sit and play with me.” Reg smiled, a knowing glance shot Charlus’s way as Ara traipsed over; sticking her tongue out at Sirius on the way.
James laughed heartily from his armchair, watching the exchange between his aunt and best friend with bright eyes and rosy cheeks.
“Can you play anything from the records at school?” He asked, head turned to face the piano as Ara looked his way.
“We could try.” She shrugged, turning to her brother. “What’s your favourite?”
“I like that T-Rex you keep playing.” He muttered, grinning as she giggled in agreement - fingers sliding in place as she mulled over how to start.
It came slowly, spread across the piano as she played both the beat and the lyrics. Nodding, Reg took over for the beat, adding a few flourishes as he closed his eyes and hummed along. Their playing grew a little louder, little livelier as all in the room nodded along. Sirius and James tapping their feet, eyes closed as they listened.
It ended with a little flourish - a loud laugh from the pair as they looked shyly to the room. Sirius whooped in applause; the Potters joining in as Ara and Reg turned red under their praise.
Quickly, they moved onto the next song from their lessons. Both siblings a little flushed as they tried to distract the room from remembering their impressive feat.
The boys eventually decided to go and play a little pick-up Quidditch game, so Reg could practice prior to the first round of Hufflepuff tryouts began in the summer term. Sirius sat beside his sister for a moment, kissing her hair in parting before he led the boys out of the room.
Her fingers still roved the piano keys, eyes shut as she played out the tune. One she had heard in a dream, one of her nightmares that she was so fond of reliving. Dancing with the boy that looked like James but was called Harry in a dark tent - wind lapping at the fabric as they swayed to soft playings from a radio.
She played until it felt like her heart had squeezed. Remembering that dream felt more like remembering some bittersweet moment of her past. Some memory of a single good hour in the midst of far more dark ones.
The final note rang in her ears as she wiped away a tear, blinking her eyes open to find that she was not alone.
Charlus Potter remained, sat where James had been. He applauded her softly, smiling as he too wiped away tears from his eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”
“It isn’t from a witch musician.” Ara shrugged, turning on the stool to face him better. “But I don’t know who did conceive it.”
“How so?”
“Well, I sort of dreamt it. But I didn’t make it myself, it exists on its own. Just not yet, anyways.” She muttered the last sentence under her breath, damning herself internally for being so open. But it was so easy, when Charlus looked at her like that. As though he cared to hear what she said, more than anything else in the world. As though he were so very proud, merely watching her living life.
“It is simply splendid. You play wonderfully.” He smiled idly; eyes crinkling with age and joy.
“Why are you so…” Ara began, the words trapped on her tongue as she looked away from Charlus to nervously run her fingers over the keys - too light a touch for any noise. “Why did you stay to listen?” She finished, lamely - looking up to his knowing eyes.
“I suspect that is not what you would like to say.” He spoke softly, though pointedly - sitting a little straighter in the armchair.
“It doesn’t matter.” She tried to brush him off, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.
“It does to me.” He replied, noticing of her mood shifting. “It’s alright to question those you are under the care of.”
Ara scoffed, fists clenching as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’ve been staying in this house for three years, is it not time that we finally talk?”
Charlus Potter was something of a mystery to Ara Black. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t understand him. Why did he care so much, say so many confusing things… why did he try so hard to help them? Dorea, she could almost understand. She was a member of their House, of their family. House Black is meant to care for their own. It was why the Prewett twins were always helping them with pranks and keeping an eye when they were fighting. It was why Ernest Macmillan - a Hufflepuff the year above them - kept an eye out for Regulus and his friends while at Hogwarts. Made sure no Slytherin tried to bother the Hufflepuff Black. To Dorea, Ara supposed a sense of familial duty came into play.
And yet, her husband was the one that kept staying. Kept lingering in the door, keeping her company on bad days.
“What do you get out of it?” She asked, fury rising because Ara Hermione Black could not stand it if she did not know an answer.
“Nothing.”
“But-” She froze, trying so very hard not to let his confusing words make her simmer over the edge; the anger she’d been suppressing since arriving at Grimmauld finally boiling to the surface. “Fine!” She snapped, jumping from her seat. “You’re too nice!” Ara shouted at Charlus, hair sparking as a storm brewed in her eyes. “You invite us into your home, help us and promise to free us from our parents, I don’t get it! What do you want in return?”
“Nothing.” He smiled sadly, waiting out her tantrum.
“But there has to be something!” She pleaded, arms flinging wildly as she gesticulated. “There’s always something. Some deal in the wings, a new bracelet that I can’t remove.” She pulled at the cold metal on her wrist, trying to breathe normally as her throat felt scratchy with unshed tears. “No one is nice for nothing. The only days I get without pain are the ones that destroy me.”
“Ara, the only thing that my wife and I want is your safety and happiness. That’s all.” He spoke firmly, as though he believed his words completely. As though he truly did want those things, regardless of their lack of familial connection. “Not because of our nephew, or because of Dorea’s birth as a Black; but because we care about you and we want you to be well.”
“Why?” She stubbornly grit out.
“You may not be our children by birth, but we’ve claimed you. If I had it my way, I’d rip that metal off of you and burn you kids off the tapestry myself. You’re my kid, you hear me?” He enunciated clearly, dark eyes blazing with intensity. “You’re one of mine.”
Her anger snuffed out with a whimper, a deep sob escaping her as she tried to understand his words. They simply didn’t make sense to her. Her own parents didn’t feel that way about her. How could this wizard, who saw her only for holidays, have so easily claimed her as his own? It was such a foreign idea to her, that she took a whole minute to mull it over, almost frozen in place as she blinked through it.
But Charlus was patient. He sat opposite her, a promise in his smile as he waited her out. Decked in his casual finest; smart jumper and slacks that matched his wife’s dress - shades of turquoise and plum. Radiant against Dorea’s fair skin and glowing against his darker complexion.
Ara took the time to look at him. To really try and see him.
The similarities to Fleamont Potter stopped after their shared colouring and facial similarities. Monty was more lithe and lean - a little taller than his older brother. Charlus was firmer in build. Muscular under his thick clothes from years of helping the Aurors. Ara knew little of his work beyond a few sensationalised stories that he told at James request. But she knew he had fought. He had duelled for years, clear in his quick feet and quicker reflexes.
And she supposed, maybe she could understand it. Charlus Potter had a thing for saving people. He’d gotten Dorea from her family. He went on missions to save villages overrun by werewolves or families trapped by dark wizards and their nefarious plans. All his adult life, he had run from one cause to the next. Until he had retired from active duties, just before James had gone to Hogwarts.
He was simply a man, in search of a lost cause to champion.
Finally, a single question fell from her lips.
“Why me?”
Charlus thought it over for a moment, finding the right words to say.
“James came to Dorea and me, Christmas of your first year, with a story of two friends that he had made. Of a whip-smart girl, and a boy with his fondness for mischief, with a family that didn’t let them owl him back. Dorea went to work on figuring out your story, trying to puzzle what kind of situation her former family had gotten into. I helped in places, but honestly? I did not think much of it at the time.” He admitted with great solemnity. “It wasn’t until I met you both that summer, that I understood.
“Your twin was a force to be reconned with, absolutely brilliant and the spitting image of myself at his age. He fit in easily, welcoming us like we’d hoped you would. But then there was you. Polite and scarred across the face, playing the part you thought we wanted from you. Always keeping us at arms length. You sat with Effie and let her do your hair, wincing at the pureblood styles she threw it into but said nothing. Drank tea with Fleamont as he experimented with different blends. But gradually, we watched your mask fall. The day you asked for jam tarts last Easter, Dorea wept with joy the moment we were alone. When you started offering suggestions of blends over summer, Monty began buying those he knew you preferred in bulk. Effie started buying muggle magazines, just to try out those hairstyles on you because you’d once mentioned liking Muggle fashion.
“You made loving you so very difficult not to do. I find myself doing little things simply to brighten your day, too. I’ve got a massive crate of sugar quills set to send you over the year, next to chocolate frogs for your brothers. I always make sure the library is well stocked with new books whenever you’re coming here. I knew you hated the red curtains in yours and Sirius’s room, so I charmed them gold. Indigo might be your favourite colour, but I know you have a fondness for gold.”
“I thought Dorea did that.” Ara sniffled.
“I’m afraid it was my handiwork.”
“Thank you.” She blurted.
“It was no problem.” She could see in his eyes that he spoke genuinely. It was blinding. “Now, can we stop fighting and instead enjoy the end of our holiday? Because I’ve only got days with my kids, and I want to spend them joyfully.”
She nodded, wiping at her eyes. When he stood and his arms opened, she didn’t even hesitate - diving into his embrace. He cradled her like a father.
And Merlin it was enough.
It was everything.