The Altar of the Phoenix

Picture yourself on a train in a station

With plasticine porters with looking-glass ties

Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile 

The girl with kaleidoscope eyes

10th January 1976

There was a thickness to the air; a heavy weight to the silence. 

Ara Black stood on the Quidditch pitch stands - surrounded by familiar gingers as her eyes remained fixed upon the grounds. 

The pitch was unrecognisable. Grass turned to leaf as hedges ruffled and twisted before their eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Someone whispered behind her.

“Did someone get the cup?” 

Her eyes did not waver. Not even as a hand slipped into hers; its callouses so oddly familiar as she squeezed it tightly. 

“Do you think he’s alright?” She turned her head, looking up at the familiar face of Ronald. His brow was furrowed, pain and worry so very clear in his blue eyes. 

“I don’t know.” Ara admitted, her voice wavering. “God I hope so.”

“Harry can get through anything.” Ron spoke, though it seemed more for his own comfort than hers. 

Before Ara could reply, a great flash of light shone on the clear patch of grass before the maze. The two turned to face the pitch as two bodies appeared on the grass - both face down. With bated breath, she and Ronald watched the two bodies. There was cheering in the stands, Hogwarts students celebrating and hugging. 

Not Ara, though. Instead, she kept her eyes on the bodies. 

“Please be alright.” She whispered under her breath, gnawing at her lower lip. 

It was as though he had heard her. 

Suddenly, one of the bodies started moving, limbs fighting to try and toss over. In one great motion, Headmaster Dumbledore strode across the grass and turned over the boy. 

It was Harry. 

He dropped the cup, reaching for the other body, desperately. 

“He’s back.” Ara saw his lips move. 

Still, he held the other boy. A grasp of hopeless agony, clutching onto him with all his might. 

“He’s dead!” A voice cried out, cheering in the stand halted as the students finally began to understand the consequences of that night. “Diggory is dead!” 

She turned to look at Ronald, only to find his eyes already on her. 

“It’s starting again, isn’t it?” He looked to her like salvation. As though she might know something he didn’t. 

“Yes. It is.”

——

The door to the fifth year Gryffindor boys dorm slammed shut; the four occupants quickly hiding parchment under comics on Pete’s desk, eyes wide as they spun to face the door. Bodies utterly blocking the desk as they spied Ara Black; eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“What are you hiding?” She asked slowly. 

Now, since several loud arguments over the end of the Yule break, Sirius had been keeping his word and keeping Ara in the loop on all Marauder things. His apology had been one for the ages, set with jam tarts and a promise to include her in their next prank. 

But this wasn’t just a prank they were planning. 

It was a prank against the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. One of which so happened to be her boyfriend. 

Not that they were singling out the team because of that. No. Marls had been broken up with by the Seeker, Dorcas Meadows, and hadn’t stopped crying at practices. Justice was owed for their friend. 

Not that they could tell Ara that. She’d hear that they were going for the team, and immediately assume it was all about Tucker Bloody Clearwater. Wouldn’t listen to reason, and would likely warn the bloke. Better for her to think it was the Prewett twins, trying to mess with the team before their last few matches. 

And so, Sirius Black turned to his twin sister with an aloof expression and a shrug of nonchalance. 

“Marauder business, Ara.” Sirius replied flippantly, brushing her off with a wave of his hand. She glared at him. “Fine. Boys business.” 

Narrowing her eyes at the boys, she sighed. Pinching her brow before she looked upon her twin again. 

“Fine.” Ara shrugged, before suddenly appearing to have a boost of mood. “I’m off to see Tucker.” 

“Why?” A chorus broke out. 

Sirius, with his brotherly annoyance.

James, matching due to his weird overprotectiveness. 

Peter, with almost whining disappointment. 

And Remus, who instead replied with “have fun” and a small but warm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

She replied to him with a smile before flicking a glare over the other three. 

“Because I can.” Ara retorted with a roll of her eyes, exiting the dorm and leaving them to whatever prank they refused to let her be privy to. As the door slammed behind her, she just caught ear of James’s loud exclaim of relief. 

“That was a close one, mate!” 

Her brow snapped into a frown as she stormed down the stairs. Fingers massaging her temples, trying to will away her persistent migraine. The sharpness behind her eyes that had popped up at Yule and not stopped since. She breezed past the sofas in the Common Room, for a moment missing the two ginger heads that popped up in curiosity.

“Alright there?” She halted suddenly, smoothing her face as she turned to face the Prewett twins, hunkered over some kind of contraption. It looked like a set of clock gears and parts, with parchment coated in black sketches of shapes and angles. Some oddly resembling spoons. 

“Just fine, boys.” She sighed, smiling awkwardly as she saw Fabian trying to hide the plans behind his body. 

Over the years, she’d gotten rather good at telling the identical pair apart. It was in the freckles. And in their smiles. Both the same, but mirrors of each other. A quirk to their lips in opposite corners. 

“You sure everything’s dandy?” Gideon asked, running a hand through his short ginger locks. They were a rather attractive pair. Both tall, with Quidditch builds and broad shoulders. Handsome faces and  strong brows - with matching ring piercings. They’d gotten them the Yule after Ara had shown up with a nose ring and Remus with a lip ring. Stating that they’d simply been inspired by their favourite cousin. 

“Just vexed at the twin, again.” She admitted, tucking her own hair behind her ears. “He’s been a bit of a twat, of late. Think he’s just mad he’s still a virgin.”

“That much sexual frustration?” Fabian chuckled. 

“Absolutely the cause.” Gideon burst out in bright laughs. 

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Swear it.” They spoke together, miming a cross over their hearts. 

“Well, I’m off to do something that’ll really piss him off.” 

“Come back here to do it, won’t you?” Gideon grinned. 

“We’d love to watch the show.” Fabian nodded. 

“Give me twenty.” Ara winked, and with that, she fled the Tower. Setting out with another in mind. 

——

“Do you think we’ll win the game, next weekend?” Tucker looked to Ara with soft blue eyes; the beauty of a Hollywood star in his chiselled and kind face. Windswept blond hair, with a thick jumper draped over a muscular form. A Quidditch build. 

Something Ara was beginning to rather appreciate. 

“You know I can’t weigh in on that.” She sighed, dipping a brush into a pot of cerulean nail polish - her boyfriend sat opposite her on the sofa with his feet propped on a pillow. His hands were currently drying, painted the same shade. 

Due to the loss of a rather entertaining bet (over whether Mantos slept in her classroom), Tucker had promised to let Ara paint his nails something bright. Right before his first game as Team Captain. 

“I know I’m playing your House, but it’s not like your brother is on the team.” He shrugged with a cheeky grin. “And you have to admit, we’ve gotten rather good.” He waggled his brow. 

“I suppose you might be proficient.” She sighed, shaking her head as she tried to hide her smile. 

“What was that? I think that might have been a compliment.” He inched closer, wiggling his feet as he pulled them into her lap. 

“Tucker! Just… stay still.” She got out with a giggle as the boy continued wiggling his toes. 

“I can’t.” He laughed, still moving. “I’m ticklish.” 

“You and I both know you aren’t.” She sighed with faked annoyance, dipping the brush back in the polish. “Now, would you like to be the snazziest Claw on the pitch, or should I just go dare my brother.” She raised a challenging brow and Tucker shot her his most dazzling smile. As she blinked goofily - dazed by the fact that his teeth were so bright they actually sparkled - he leant in closer. 

“Darling, we both know I’m better company.” He grinned, prompting a soft giggle to escape her. With a soft sigh, she yanked his foot back - startling him into falling deeper into the sofa - and abandoned the polish to lean over him. He met her halfway with a cocky grin, placing a soft hand on her face to pull her in for a kiss. 

And, naturally, the kiss deepened. 

Which was not satisfactory to the other four Marauders - sequestered in a corner by the balcony so Remus and Sirius could smoke their Muggle cigarettes. And to spy on the situation, not that they would admit to it. As far as anyone else was concerned, Pete and James had barred the smokers from doing as such in the dormitory, citing the lingering smell. 

In reality, well… they each had individual reasons for their dislike of the slightly older Ravenclaw boy with the perfect blond hair. 

Sirius disliked Tucker on the terms that he simply disliked his sister dating anybody. Especially when it was clear that they were engaged in. Certain acts… He still sometimes couldn’t look Remus in the eye, knowing he’d taken Ara’s maidenhead. It was made worse by the fact that Remus would always know when those occasions were and would react in a peculiar mix of humour and fluster. A look that made Sirius’s face flush too. 

Remus, on the other hand, definitely only disliked Ara with Tucker because he thought she could do better. Definitely not because he thought he was the better option. Nope. Tucker was just a little too cocky now he was dating Ara. Sure, he’d been growing into his own over the past few years; but having Ara on his arm had changed him. He was being all proper Pureblood and she was letting him. If she hadn’t just forced her way out of a betrothal, Remus was certain Clearwater would have been writing his parents about one by now. So, no, he didn’t like him. 

If you asked James, his reason would be uncannily similar to Remus’s. That Tucker was acting all fancy now he was with Ara and he was suspicious about it. That the Ravenclaw was walking around with too much ego. In reality (and in his daydreams), he just saw her with Tucker and wished it were her with him instead. He wanted to be getting his toenails painted by her on the couch. He wanted to see her wearing his jersey at quidditch games. At least if she were single, he wouldn’t have to watch her suck face with perfect-hair-Clearwater. 

And Petey just didn’t like Tucker. He thought he was a right knob, and that his sister was dull as ditchwater. And that he had a stupid haircut. There really wasn’t anything else to it. 

Actually, it might have purely been the ugly haircut. He’d thought Ara to have better taste. 

“Are the Prewetts watching us?” James’s voice blinked Peter from his thoughts, directing his gaze to a sofa on the opposite side of the room to Ara and her boyfriend. There, sat the Prewett twins. With utterly delighted expressions, the pair were happily munching on a bowl of some kind of snack, clearly enjoying the show. 

“I think Ara might have figured out what we were up to.” Sirius gulped. 

“You’re right about that one, mate. I think this just might be her revenge.” Pete laughed, exchanging a little wave with Fabian. 

——

14th January 1976

The younger Professor McGonagall was almost the complete opposite to his sister - far too laid back and practically insulted by the idea of giving out homework. 

The one trait they shared was their utter privacy.  

Sure, Ara could recite a list of facts about him, ones he’d told their class in lieu of introduction. He was thirty-six, a Gemini (if you cared about that sort of thing), he was an Auror, but taking a year out due to a back injury. He liked John Lennon and his music, didn’t like cheese on principle, and told them all to call him ‘Professor M’ as to make things less confusing. 

Yet, she knew absolutely nothing substantial about him. If he was married, who his parents were, the exact date of his birth… so many details that no one else seemed to notice weren’t shared. Not with all the tat he offered. She was sure Remus did, however - given his little squints at the man when he thought no one was looking. Sometimes Ara could swear he was sniffing the man when he got too close. But she shrugged it off; it was probably a werewolf thing.

As far as DADA Professors went, he was probably one of the best they’d had. Seemingly not a spy for Dumbledore, which was always plus. Nor a droning lecturer or too caught in boggarts to focus on theory. 

“Is your shirt… oddly pinkish?” Remus’s voice broke away her thoughts, Ara turning to frown at her tall friend before looking down at her clothes. Sure enough, the hue to her shirt was a little bit pink. Not enough to be incredibly noticeable, but enough that once it was seen it could not be unseen. 

“Huh.” Ara remarked, looking down at her grey skirt that tinged red and her shoes that reflected crimson in the light. “I think I’m being pranked, Moony.” She clapped his shoulder in a gesture very unlike herself, returning her gaze to Professor M at the front of the class. He shuddered as he looked to the back of the classroom; spying the cheeky grins of his three best friends. With a roll of his eyes and a barely concealed grin, he turned back to the front of the class. 

It took him half the lesson to figure out why it had unnerved him so. Not the prank, but Ara’s gesture. 

It wasn’t a mimic of how James or Sirius would grab him for a moment. No, that was firm but gentle. A little squeeze before parting ways. 

As Professor M waved the class away for lunch, the revelation hit him in a rather unsettling way. 

For the gesture, that clap to his shoulder, that was something he had observed in Tucker Clearwater. The boy did it to everyone. Teammates and classmates and apparently, even his girlfriend. 

Remus did not eat lunch that day. His stomach was too uneasy. 

——

By the time they were finished with lessons for the day, Ara’s shirt had turned an awfully bright shade of scarlet, her skirt a deeper red. All her clothes were stained in the Gryffindor shade - stark against her pale skin.

Every Professor’s attempt to undo the charm only made it bleed even deeper. 

The funniest part had to be the stress of each new Professor trying to take points. Every time they began the sentence, the Marauders would yell that McGonagall had already taken points away. 

Which one, they did not say, with hope a wild goose chase might prevent any point loss. 

Clearly disgruntled by the supposed fact, Slughorn had been additionally strict on the boys that lesson. Asking rogue questions to Sirius and James, the weaker brewers of the bunch. Watching over Remus as he sneezed above his cauldron. 

“Where would you find a bezoar, Miss Black?” Slughorn spun to Ara’s bench where she stood with Pete, Lily brewing with Snape that afternoon. 

“In the storage cupboard, I suspect.” She replied dryly, much to Slughorn’s twitching disapproval. “Or in the stomach of a goat, if you’ve run out. I heard that Dumbledore’s brother has plenty.”

“One point to Gryffindor.” He begrudged, sweeping away to loudly compliment Snape and Lily’s brew; to many snickers from the Slytherin half of the classroom. 

As the bell signalled the end of the lesson, the Marauders hurried before Slughorn could try to hold them back. Separating at the end of the hallway as Remus and Ara went to the library. They snuck past Madame Pince (who’d never liked them, for the loud company they kept outside the library) and crept to their familiar corner of the dark part of the castle. 

There, sat at a table by the large gothic windows; lit under the setting sun was Regulus Black. 

And, oh how he’d grown up. Grown into his sharp cheekbones and jaw, the thick dark curls that coiled around his ears. He waved toned arm their way, donning just a short-sleeved shirt and his yellow tie. 

“Nice shirt.” Reg remarked as Remus tucked Ara’s chair into the table, ducking in beside her. 

“Sirius is having a tantrum.” Ara sighed, yanking parchment from her bag as Remus spun a textbook her way. 

“Again?” Reg raised a thick brow. 

“Indeed.” She nodded tiredly. “I think he’s still grumpy that I have a boyfriend.” 

“More that he hasn’t had a girlfriend yet.” Reg snickered, looking down at his parchment to scribble another line of an essay. “Speaking of such matters, how goes you, Remus?”

“Yeah, alright.” He shrugged awkwardly; a hand in his hair to shake his long fringe further over his scarred face. 

“Not got a girl in your life?”

“Nope.” He replied. 

“Shame.” Reg spoke flatly. “I happen to have a date with Daisy McKinnon.”

“Me and Sirius have both snogged her sister, you know.” Ara grinned as she dipped her quill in Reg’s ink pot. 

“I wish I didn’t.” He shuddered. “At least your group are awful at keeping secrets. I think I’ve figured them all by now.”

“Not all of them.” Remus frowned, looking up at the boy through his fringe with great trepidation.

“I’m not a fool, Remus. I know.” Reg rolled his eyes, looking back at his essay with utter nonchalance.

“You know?” He gawked, leaning back in his chair. 

“How?” Ara squawked, gobsmacked as her eyes bugged towards her baby brother. 

“I know that you’re a werewolf.” The taller boy’s eyes bulged at the Reg’s nonchalance. “Can you pass me that book on runes?” 

With shaking hands, the scarred boy moved the book into Regulus’s hands. 

“You’re not… you’re not angry with me? Or scared?” Regulus’s eyes bugged as he shook his head at the question. 

“You’re my friend, Remus.” Regulus shrugged awkwardly before returning to browse his notes. “It doesn’t change anything.” 

Remus simply stared at him in abject horror, as though he could hardly believe his ears.

“Is he broken or something?” Reg asked without looking away from his textbook. 

“I sometimes wonder.” Ara grinned, reaching a hand to squeeze Remus’s knee. His head turned to face her, still shocked. “It would be quite nice if you stopped presuming everyone must secretly hate you, given that, if you have noticed, everyone you’ve told has been completely on your side.” 

Studying continued with a faintly light air; bright at their table as the sky darkened. 

Remus managed to keep Ara on track long enough to finish two essays and answer some questions for Slughorn. Then, she proceeded to her attempting to read every book in the Hogwarts library - that day a text on the Philosopher’s Stone. 

Alice Brown and her Hufflepuff friends - the Amelias, Brown and Bones - joined them with a friendly discussion. Asking to sit at their table as the library was rather full that evening. Sharing their loaned textbooks for the DADA presentation at the end of the month. 

Tucker joined their table as the sun set below the trees with a kiss to her cheek that caught Ara off guard; so wrapped in her reading that his appearance was an utter surprise. She beamed at him, pushing the hair off his face fondly as he beamed at her. 

Offering the seat beside her and ignoring her brother’s snort. 

They stayed a little longer, focused on individual assignments; Tucker’s hand in her own, fingers intertwined. Then it drifted from her own for a moment. She looked up, brow furrowed. 

And she caught it. 

His eyes meeting Alice Brown’s across the table. The softening, his lips twitching to smile. An emotion she knew all too well. 

Alice, looking back with the same gentleness. The two entirely in tune. 

Godric, she could see it so clearly. 

It was all she could do, to look away as she watched Tucker and Alice start to fall in love.