Kiss And Say Goodbye
I won't be able to see you anymore
Because of my obligations and the ties that you have
We’ve been meeting here everyday
And since this is our last day together
I wanna hold you just one last time
16th August 1976
Ara Hermione Black sat in a cloud of smoke - a cigarette perched between her lips as she rolled the next.
The heatwave that had fallen across the summer end showed no sign of relenting; humidity and heat clung to tacky skin despite however many cooling charms were cast. It was miserably warm, too hot to truly function.
But behind the gardens of Potter Manor, past the hedge maze and pond, there was a small clearing. Just past the boundary line, barely meters from the warding that clung to the earth in salt lines and wildflowers, two witches shared a blanket over plush grass.
“Remus switched me off straights,” she explained, pausing to lick the paper and seal the tobacco, “said it was too expensive for how much I smoke.” Ara grinned, lighting the new cigarette from the butt of the previous one. “I told him I have both the Black trust fund and the Potter family fortune on my side, but he just rolled his eyes at me and made me learn.”
“I don’t know if I like this habit of yours.” Bella Black (technically Lestrange, though none used such a moniker) sighed, running a hand through her loose curls - a wince as she caught a knot with clammy hands.
Neither cousin looked particularly lively despite how bright the summer was. Both pale and waxy - eyes lined by dark shadows as they shared grimaces and furrowed brows. If one was to spy the pair, they would find their similarities striking. Identical noses and slender eyebrows over grey eyes, gaunt cheeks and lithe bodies hidden by dark clothes. Though once a person looked closer, they might spy how Bella’s eyes were more hooded, how Ara’s gaze was far more silver than grey and Bella’s muddied enough they were almost brown.
“I’m glad you came.” Ara smiled faintly - her eyes wide and brow downturned. “I… I wasn’t sure if I would see you again. Especially not so soon.”
Bella’s hand reached the space between them, resting gently upon Ara’s own. With a twist of her wrist, the younger cousin connected their palms, linking fingers with a soft squeeze.
“Me either.” Bella admitted. “But I… it’s one thing to be told you’re alright, and another to see it for myself.”
“Am I alright?” She raised a brow. With a furrow of her own, Bella tried to slip their hands apart - only to be met by Ara’s fingers gripping hers more tightly.
“No, I… I suppose none of us are.”
“Why’d they do it, Bella? Why did they join?” Ara sighed. “House Black kneels to no wizard.”
“But it does to those with power.” Bella’s eyes dragged across the fields and flowers. “We may be raised to believe we are the best, but we must also acknowledge when those arrive that are better.”
“Subservience for the sake of survival?” With a frown, Ara waited for her cousin’s gaze to rest on her own - her words grit out more than spoken. “I knew we were mad, but I never thought we were foolish.”
A surprised cackle escaped the older woman.
“We’re all a bit of both.” She shrugged, the gesture almost elegant despite her snort. “But some of us are lucky enough that we got common sense, too.”
Ara snorted.
“You have common sense?”
“Don’t make fun.” Bella stuck out her tongue. “I’m smart enough to know when I’m being told something inaccurate.”
“How so?”
“I met this girl in Potions.” It was as though Bella’s dark eyes lit up. Bright, almost excited as she spoke with unconcealed fondness. “Her father was a Pureblood, but her mother was a Muggleborn. And she was the most brilliant person I will ever have the pleasure of meeting. She shook this shroud my parents had placed over me, opened my eyes.”
“So why’d you join him?” Ara couldn’t understand. How could this version of Bellatrix Lestrange ever coexist with the other? Could Azkaban have truly driven her insane?
“Andy needed to get out. I knew it. What better time than when I’d finally taken the Mark? It bought us all time. Not as much as I would have liked, mon chou, but enough.”
“But what about Narcissa? There’s…” there was something her mother had said that night that stuck with her. The look in her eyes as she chewed out the girl’s name. As though it were something bitter, something incorrect.
Narcissa wasn’t a star. She was a flower.
And oh, if that didn’t feel like the most damning evidence of all.
“Has your lot caught on, then?” Bella winced out, brushing her curls back off her face.
“Only me. Only because of Wally.” Ara sighed, nodding bitterly. “Is she… is it true?”
“Truer than any of us would ever care to admit.” The elder witch nodded. “Mother had a Tutor when she came to the country. You remember even when we were children, her English was dreadful. Father hired some Pureblood that had studied language, for he was too busy with the Ministry.”
“Who was he?”
“That’s the worst part.” Bella hiccuped a laugh, quickly stiffly it. “It was Lord Longbottom. In the year before he was wed to Augusta, that heinous toad.”
“Narcissa is a Longbottom?” Ara breathed, the revelation a little too jarring.
And she thought about the boy in the year above her, really pictured his face as she thought of her cousin’s. Narcissa was practically a clone of her mother, really. Same angular cheekbones and sharp jaw, blue eyes and blonde locks.
Except, as Ara considered it, she realised that while their colouring was similar, there were indeed disparities. Narcissa’s eyes were a warmer shade of blue, not cool and greyish as they ought to be. And though Aunt Druella had blonde hair, hers was dyed lighter - still not quite as bright as Narcissa’s own.
The latter fact, easily explained away in the minds of the young. Narcissa was younger, her hair yet to darken with age.
Ara could almost see it. The birth of his youngest, Cygnus coming to hold his final daughter… and finding eyes unlike his own, unlike his wife’s, peering up at him.
No wonder Draco had hated Neville so greatly. It must have been so very difficult to see what he could have been, had his mother been claimed a Longbottom. The shame, the guilt that she must have carried, forced upon her child by sneers and secrets he should not have been forced to bear.
“Father did the Black thing.” Bella sighed. “She’d given him two daughters already, what was keeping a third not his own blood? It’s how it’s done, I suppose. Better to keep the child than face the embarrassment. He actually used a bit of blood magic to pop her on the tapestry, apparently. Told me once after a meeting, when we were both plastered.”
“Was that why he wanted it from Alphard?”
“With Andy gone… I think he just wants to be sure he’s still got an heir and a spare. Even if she’s not his by blood, father’s always loved Cissa most. Mother was always so cruel to her, so he just took her in. Made sure she was one of us. A Black, through and through.”
“How’s he finding Wally’s meltdowns?”
“I think he’s one more bad dinner away from cursing your father and claiming the Lordship for himself.” Bella laughed. “Uncle Orion’s been useless for years, he says.”
“He isn’t wrong.” Ara admitted. “Orion has always cowered under stronger personalities.”
“Not always.” Bella frowned. “I remember, when I was very young he would yell back at Aunt Wally. Called her awful things. But then, she had you and Sirius. And he just shut up. Snapped if anyone talked about the pair of you, though he hardly left you alone once the elves were gone.”
“He just stood there.” Ara grit out. “Just watched Wally torture Sirius like it was nothing. Like he’d given up on him as heir, and… Reg was barely hurt. Only a wayward cruciatus as we fled, and a broken hand that was his own ruddy fault. It feels like they’ve assigned all their hopes onto him, and are happy to rid themselves of me and Sirius.”
“You’re twins. No one in our family has ever had twins before.”
“So?”
“So his cousin’s child wasn’t his own.” Bella stressed. “And considering how much Wally hated the pair of you, it was clear something was wrong.”
“He thought we weren’t Blacks?” Her voice broke.
“He knew you were, since Wally always was.” Bella’s hands squeezed her own, eyes soft with understanding. “But he wasn’t sure if he was your father. I don’t think he’ll ever be certain, and that sort of thing can break a weak man. I think he just, well, gave up on trying to figure it out. But didn’t you wonder why your parents had Reg so soon after?”
“Honeymoon period?”
“He used to fawn over my sisters and me, every time he visited. He loved children, Ara, and he was so excited for one of his own.”
“His own?” Ara repeated.
“In his most hopeful dreams, you both were his. In his worst, you both weren’t.”
“And the one he picked, was that I wasn’t and Sirius was.”
“I think so. Wally didn’t help, considering how she always treated you.” Bella sighed. “So the choice between your brothers or you, well, he’ll always let Wally pick you to sacrifice.”
Ara looked down at her uncovered arm, staring at the ugly design that blemished her skin. Twisting its magic into her bones, this Darkness that she felt constantly. Like when she was Hermione, wearing that wretched locket in the tent. The feel of the soul of another; fragmented and Dark, and pressing its power over her.
“And they let him mark me.” She spoke absently, hardly noting Bella’s soothing circles over the raised skin.
“It is a cursed gesture.” Her cousin winced. “The Mark will never fade. You could always try to tattoo over it.” She spoke thoughtfully.
“I suppose Sirius would love to join on that adventure.”
“I remember when he used to draw all over himself. Aunt Wally was not pleased.”
“I don’t want to talk about them, not any more.” Ara grit out, tugging her arm away and covering the mark with her sleeve.
“Oh your little nose.” Bella frowned, tracing the thin scar remaining - desperate for her cousin to simply be alright.
“It’s alright.” Ara shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about getting a septum to replace it.” She told the other woman, mischievously. Bella barked out a cackle and Ara beamed in reply.
“That sounds very cool.” She nodded. “I don’t know what it is, but it sounds it.”
“I’ll send you a picture.” She promised.
“I’m so very impressed by you, mon chou. You did not break.”
“I let him Mark me.”
“But you did not lose your mind.” Bella
“It was surprisingly easy. I just…”
“You held onto the good memories and those you love.” Bella finished with a nod. “That’s what keeps our mind intact. Well, as intact as it can be.”
“I thought about you.” Ara admitted. “You and Andy and my brothers and even bloody Narcissa.” She huffed a laugh.
“I thought about you too.” Bellatrix smiled. “When you join you-know-who’s ranks, he tests your nerve though the cruciatus. And every time I thought I might give up, I thought about you. And I wanted to be as strong as you were.”
“Why me? I don’t think I’ll ever get it, Bells.” Ara sighed, fidgeting with her knuckles as she itched to roll another cigarette. “Everyone else in this entire family, and you decided on me. Why?” She breathed the last word, eyes filled with cautious worry.
“My dear, sweet Ara,” she soothed her hair, eyes filled with a frightening amount of love and devotion, “The moment I met you, I knew I had kin of my own. It’s hard to be a truly Mad Black, you know? Of course you do.” The two laughed tearily. “And when you were a baby, I held you in my hands and you had been so unresponsive to everybody - just staring - but for me, you cried. You looked at me like I had shat in your shoe and killed your dog and I burst out laughing. Then you stopped crying, stopped looking at me like I was Morgana and sort of… just looked a bit confused. Like you didn’t know what to do with me.”
Ara looked away guiltily, a dozen memories swirling in the back of her mind from her life as Hermione Granger; of Bellatrix Lestrange, not Bella Black. Bellatrix Lestrange killed her best friends godfather. Bella Black helped her twin learn to ride a broom, and always snuck him cookies even though he always seemed sceptical of her. Lestrange had carved a slur into her arm. And Bella had taught her to love her scars and to see her madness as beauty.
How could she not divide these people in her mind? How could she not separate a life lived by a lonely monster, and a trapped woman who had shown her nothing but love?
She had been born into this life, and without noticing it - her very existence had changed the direction of history. Bella was not salivating at Voldemort’s feet; she was stood on the opposite side of the hall with her mental shields in overdrive. And she was not alone in escaping her terrible fate. Because Ara would be dammed if Frank and Alice lost their minds and Peter turned to a spy. If Lily and James died before seeing their son grow up.
This had been her first step, she realised. To not let her cousin turn into the monster from her dreams. A decision she had made before The Cruciatus Incident that fractured her mind - with the knowledge of what that other version of her Bella had done. Hermione Granger had been tortured and still chose to save the mad girl that scarred her.
“And I decided to prove to you that I was worth liking.” Bella continued, prompting Ara to reconnect her gaze - finding that same love she always had in those matching grey eyes. “I read to you and I fed you and I watched you grow up. And I watched you go from crying in my presence to looking at me with… Merlin, it was like you looked relieved. Relieved that my madness was compatible with yours. I have always loved you. I have always been glad to have kin of my own. We are the same, you and I. And I don’t know what I would have become, were it not for you.” She blinked away tears, lips contorted in a sorrowful smile. “I’m so very thankful you were born.”
Ara let out a teary giggle - wrapping her arms around her favourite cousin. Around the girl that taught her that her madness didn’t have to be a curse. The girl who, though teaching that to her little cousin, had realised the same for herself.
And she realised that the Bella of this universe shared one trait with Bellatrix Lestrange. They were both utterly and blindly loyal. At least in this universe, Bella had picked someone better to be loyal to.
“I’m glad you were born too.” Ara whispered in her ear, squeezing her tight. “I love you.” She spoke, for the very first time.
Bella tensed for just a moment, Ara nearly pulling away. But soon her cousin was hugging her as tightly as she had been.
“I love you too.” She whispered. “But I can’t leave.”
“Why not?” Ara half-whined. “Throw it all to hell and run away with me.”
“Not while Cissa is still trapped. She’s… she’s my sister. Whatever duties I must perform, please know they are nothing against you.”
“There’ll come a day Bella, when we’re on opposing sides of the battlefield.” Ara warned. “And I won’t know who I’m cursing, not with those ruddy masks.”
“I hope I fall first, too.” Bella ran a hand along her hair. “Sometimes it is better to die than to speak.”
“Never.” Ara swore, looking to Bella with hope and grieving. “And it will never be too late to say hello again.”
——
A fond memory
April 1966
“Why are you hiding in here?” A soft rasp sounded in two small children’s ears, their little bodies hidden in an alcove.
Two twins, hiding in one of Bella’s secret spots in her parent’s Manor. Teary eyed and clutching each other, whispering reassurances over their bond. Back when Ara was still half-healed from the Cruciatus Incident, when she was more a mimic than a girl.
Right before their mother turned all her sights onto Regulus to be heir, when Sirius was almost her favourite child.
The pair, in perfect synchrony, looked up to the light to spy their eldest cousin.
“You’ll miss the birthday cake.” Bella whispered as she crawled inside beside them, sitting on the cold stone and scooting herself to be hidden as well. She was thirteen, back then. Her hair still a little frizzy, teeth still a little protruding and crooked. Before she’d been old enough for her mother to blast her with beauty charms, modifying her appearance forever.
She was still young. Still in Hogwarts, skirting between her familial responsibility and her down dreams. Hair braided in two, donning a hideous green frock her mother had likely forced her into.
“Mother wants to betroth Ara again.” Sirius sniffled, lifting a clumsy hand to wipe at his chubby face. He was so very little to Bella. Both of them were. Her tiny cousins, all skittish and shy. Never speaking of what had held back family events for half a ruddy year, only shaking their heads with terrified looks to wherever their parents were.
“He started crying, so she told us to leave until he was settled.” Ara explained in that soft, stumbling voice - unpracticed and fragile. She tucked thick curls behind her ears, smiling nervously behind damp cheeks.
“Oh, come here, monchou.” Bella patted her knee and hid a grin as the girl scampered over - plopping herself lightly in Bella’s arms.
Sirius watched on, eyes still tricking tears. He was scared of her, she knew. Scared of the madness in her and Ara. The wretched insanity that he wanted so desperately to shield her from. That Bella wanted Ara to understand, as she hadn’t for so very long.
“You are six, Sirius. It’s alright to be sad sometimes. And it’s certainly alright to cry.” Bella soothed his tears away, pulling him onto her free leg. His hand reached for his twin’s immediately.
“But Mother always says it is unbecoming of an heir to give in to erratic notions.”
“Do you even know what that means?” The two shook their heads in reply. “Then ignore it. For someone that tells you to not be emotional, she can’t seem to do it herself.” He snorted at that, a giggle escaping his rosy lips as she poked his cheek lovingly.
“Do you…” Ara began, her eyes darting to the thin gap that revealed the light streaming from the hallway before they returned to Bella’s own. She did not finish her question, instead turning to her twin with a gentle frown - their eyes glassing briefly. Bella was not privy to whatever the girl had whispered in their minds, only that it brought a twist of a frown to her brother’s face.
“Shall we sneak to the kitchens?” Bellatrix smiled, soothing curls away from Ara’s face. “Our parents are busy in the study. I’m sure they’ll be preoccupied for a while.”
“Are you sure?” Sirius looked to her with those same wide eyes as the twins scampered from her knees. Bella stood with a warm smile.
“I’m sure Andy’s found the biscuits for Reggie.” Bella laughed, vaulting Ara onto her shoulders as she took Sirius’s hand. “They’ll be distracted for a while, I promise. It’s cousin time.”
Sirius’s smile was small but bright as his namesake. And as he glanced above her at his twin, she was certain that Ara’s was the same.
——
18th August 1976
James Potter was a boy of routines. He had always been that way, always troubled whenever they were shifted or soured. But he was not unable to change them on his own.
In the mornings, he always woke at exactly six. He tidied his bed, dressed in sports clothes, practiced quidditch for an hour, then showered and ate breakfast. No matter where he was - whether Hogwarts or home - he would follow his patterns with a militaristic regime. Sure, there were some days that he didn’t exactly follow the plan, but those were few and far between. Only on those times that moving felt like too much for his wearied mind, or when his night was so full that he needed to sleep in a little longer.
Recently, since the Black siblings were safely situated in the Potter Manor, he had developed a new evening routine.
He would glance into their bedroom, quiet as he could be, and listen to them breathing. It was a little creepy, certainly, but it couldn’t be helped. After all, he had gotten used to his routine of sitting with Ara at night whilst Sirius was… trapped elsewhere.
Rationally, he knew they would be there. He knew they were safe and home. But he’d spent weeks by Ara’s bedside at night and it had truly messed up all of his routines. He’d slept in every day, started tugging at his ear in threes again, and eventually his mother had dosed him with Draught of Peace and forced him into bed once Sirius was home in the Manor.
Once he’d slept for about a day (which seemed enough time for his mother and Dorea to fix up his best friend and for Charlus to check in on Ara while his dad watched over Reg), James had gone about life as though the entire month of July had not occurred. He woke at six, took a couple laps around the manor, then went to wake the twins and Reg. with laughs and taunts, he’d drag the trio from whatever room they’d all curled up in and sit them at the breakfast table. His days were spent trying to keep them all afloat. Whether stopping Ara smoking as much as she did, making sure Sirius wasn’t stuck in memories, or keeping Reg from retreating in his mind… James did what he could.
So when he went to check on the siblings, only to find one of their trio missing… James would be lying if he said it didn’t fill him with utter panic. Only Regulus and Ara lay in the large bed - two curled balls with their backs pressed against each other.
It did not take long to find the last of their set.
Sirius Black was in the kitchen, curled beside a jar of blue flame - a spell he’d surely borrowed from his sister. In the dimness of the eerie flame, Sirius’s skin looked paler. His eyes were downcast, bagged by purple and lined by tears, as he slowly blinked at the tiles on the floor.
They were patterned, James noticed. He hadn’t really thought of them before, but… he supposed that Sirius was always better at spotting curious details. The tiles ranged in shades of oranges, browns and blues - a bizarre yet lively blend that James had always thought to be random. Yet there was a design to the madness. A careful arrangement that drew a wider picture - a ship at sea painted beneath the counters and tables.
“Hey, Pads.” James smiled, ducking to crouch beside his friend. Gently, he rested his palm upon Sirius’s shoulder - the careful touch prompting the boy to snap his head James’s way. With a fluttering blink of relief, Sirius offered a ghost of a smile.
“Hey, Prongs.” Sirius whispered back as his shoulders rolled a little higher. “You playing warden?”
“I’m checking you’re alright, knobhead.” James huffed.
“Whatever you say.” Sirius grinned, though it failed to reach his eyes. “You come to herd me to bed?”
“Yup.” James nodded. “Sleeping wedged next to the cooker is hardly comfortable.”
“I ‘spose so.” Sirius laughed faintly, blinking tears down his cheeks.
“Oh, Padfoot.” James sighed, pressing forwards onto his knees to wrap an arm around Sirius’s shoulders. The boy let out a whine as he tried to hold in a sob, the action sending a shudder through his scrawny form.
“It’s like I’m stuck there. Stuck in that wretched house.” His voice wavered, raw and rotten as the teen wiped tears from his pale face.
“You’re free, Pads.”
“But no one saved me.” Sirius spoke so quietly that James almost missed it. “You all promised it for years, but no one came for me.”
“I…” James exhaled a long and shallow breath. “I know.”
What else was there to say? How could he comfort the boy that was left behind?
“I’m so sorry, Sirius.” The boy blinked up at him, clearly taken aback by the use of his true name, not his nickname. “I really trusted that Charlus and the Aurors would figure it out. And… I swear on my magic that I spent every day wishing you were here. I spent every moment I could looking after Ara and making sure Reg was alright, I really did. But if I’m honest, I thought most about you. You’re my best friend, Pads, and I wanted you home.”
“I know, Prongs.” Sirius offered a bitter smile. “It just… I wish it had been different.”
“Me too.” James sighed, gripping him closer. “You’re a part of me, Pads. Like the limb that keeping me from toppling over.”
“You are too.” His cheeks relaxed a little, smile pulling genuine and soft. “I’m glad I met you, James. I’m glad we became friends.”
In the dimness of early morning - lit only by faint flames and flickers of sunrise - there was a peaceful sort of quiet. A calm to the expanse, to the freedom of a house so big and a garden so long. And curled in the kitchen, wedged between a cooker and a rack of pans, two boys relished in it. They were safe here.
In the morning, there would be family breakfast and trying to snatch Ara’s cigarette’s before Effie had a conniption. Her nerves had been rather frail, as of late. They would sit outside, forcing a tan upon the Black siblings’ pale skin, and magic the record player to work next to the pond.
And, as much as it would not fix the past, there was a comfort in knowing the future so effortlessly.
——
“So, Dory. Why’re we here?” Sirius black grinned from the doorframe - his siblings shooting him matching frowns behind his shoulders.
Charlus and Dorea’s wing of Potter Manor had shifted quite greatly over the years. With the empty bedrooms turned to the siblings, Dorea had begun a design overhaul of the entire lot. Placing more armchairs in the library, a better stool in the music room, there were little details that made each room set for the children in her care.
But the office… that had always been Charlus’s room. Only Regulus had truly explored the hectic space - a fact evident in how easily he navigated the paper stacks and odd trinkets to find a perch on the loveseat by the window bookcase. Ara and Sirius’s steps were much more clumsy as the latter managed to trip over one pile and onto another, utterly mingling the two. Once he was sat on the loveseat - yanked by both of his tutting siblings - his cheeks were rather pink.
“Dorea and I have a matter to discuss with you.” Charles smiled, chuckling to himself as he merely collected the papers into one great stack and threw it upon his desk. He ignored his wife’s disapproval, merely perching on the edge of his desk as she stood beside him.
“Is that so?” Sirius raised a brow, offering his very best mischievous mask. It was unfortunate for him that all in the room saw past it, spying the nervous tilt of his brows and pinch to his eyes.
“Is everything alright?” Ara spoke up, glancing fretfully around the room. “There’s… we’re alright, yeah?”
“Oh, yes.” Charles nodded, looking to his wife. “We… it’s hopefully a positive subject.”
“I once thought that a Black could only birth an heir or die trying,” Dorea sighed heavily, as though utterly ashamed of herself, “and I thought that it was a familial trait to be awful to our children. But… I have loved all three of you as my own since I first spied you. You are part of me, the steady beat of my heart that keeps me breathing. I may not have children by blood, but I consider you all my children.”
And what a curious notion that was.
Love, neither Hermione Granger nor Ara Black had never understood.
As a child, she had thought it was sacrifice. Stripping away piece after piece of her being to fit someone else’s plans, just for the notion of love. It had been a life spent trying to keep a boy alive, and failing. Years spent offering essay help and dancing in a tent in the middle of nowhere as the wind outside chilled their bones. Love was holding the hand of her first friend and knowing her death was sure to be awful, and not minding because she loved the boy that stood by her within it all. It had been knowing Walburga hated her, knowing the path her family could take, and trying to change the tides of fate. It was watching her father teach her brothers through Sirius’s eyes as she sat in a cupboard, scratching at the wood grain. It was coddling Regulus in hopes that he would not die young again.
Then she had met James’s mother. And suddenly, Ara knew she had never known anything at all.
Love had become was holding her twin as he cried, always forgiving every time he pulled away. It was saving her brother from their mother’s plots and knowing her affections had given him a naivety and sanctity of person that she would never possess. Her love had always been gentler than she’d thought it to be. It had always been a chipping of her soul, pieces scattered amongst her friends and brothers, in the hopes it might carry them through.
Love had been forced upon her as a child, and Ara had never been able to fight it off since.
And Ara knew that Dorea’s love was the same. A little more poised, certainly, but that same bittersweetness of self. In her happiest future, Ara hoped to be like Dorea one day. To be brave, to be kind, even after the misfortune of their birth.
“We’d like to offer you the protection of our family name.” Dorea continued, a nervous tint to her dark eyes as she glanced at the three.
“We’d like to adopt you kids.” Charlus explained, noting the confused expressions on the Black siblings's faces.
The three immediately looked to each other in a panic.
We can’t, Ara whispered over the bond.
Why not? Sirius huffed, looking to Regulus to express his discontent with Ara. It was rather impressive how well their little brother could understand their silent conversations. Quite practical, too.
Either you or Reg will become heir one day, Ara glared back. We can’t… we simply cannot give that up. It’s our way to save Bella and Narcissa.
Screw them, Sirius scoffed in reply. They watched them torture you.
Bella did not stand by, Ara hissed.
But Narcissa did. She kept visiting after… when it was just me, Sirius frowned. And so did her Nasty husband.
Oh, Sirius, Ara sighed, gently looking to her twin. If you want this, I won’t get in your way. I just… I can’t join you.
Her twin looked at her warily for a moment. Then, with a solemn nod, he let out a long exhale.
Where you go, I go, he laughed. So I’ll follow your lead, Hermie. I’ll follow you anywhere.
Thank you.
The pair glanced to Reg with identical looks. At first, the boy frowned at them. But once he saw that their expressions would not shift, he too nodded in agreement. The trio turned to face the Potters - the pair having amusedly watched the display.
“We are so very honoured-” Regulus began, awkwardly.
“But we can’t forsake our entire family-” Ara sighed, eyes downcast.
“On the actions of our parents.” Sirius spat.
“Bella is trapped and needs our help to escape. We can’t do that if we step out of the line of succession.” Ara offered, a little more kindly - eyes flicking up to implore that these few adults she trusted would understand. Then, before she could spy whatever their expressions were, she looked away.
“And there will come a day when Narcissa realises how trapped she has become and will need our help to get out.” Reg piped in with an uncomfortable shrug.
“It might suck, but we have a duty. Provided we live to see it.” Sirius joked, to a lack of amusement of the group.
There was a heavy pause. The siblings did not dare look to their saviours, did not dare spy whatever expression - whether heartbreak or rage - that the pair held. But they did, almost despite themselves, look to the pair once Charlus finally spoke.
“I get it.” He sighed. “No matter what, you’re our kids. Whether you go by our name or another, all three of you… you’re a part of our family.”
His face was so very open, so very earnest and vulnerable. Gentle and kind, knowing of their reasons and accepting despite how it broke his heart to not truly claim them as his own. He was truly an impossible man. Each time they thought they’d pushed him too far, he would return with stronger kindness.
“I concur.” Dorea nodded sharply. Though the twitch of her lips gave away her good humour. “You ought to be able to claim whatever legacies that our former family offers. Whatever boons of birth, as it were.”
Despite herself, Ara burst into laughter. It was carefree and delighted and it utterly surprised the room. While not all were in on the joke - Sirius laughing heartier than the rest - her joy encouraged the same in others. It brought forth the same brightness.
“Thank you for giving us the choice.” Regulus smiled nervously. “I… I’m very glad for both of you. Very glad you picked up this pair and let me join along.” He jerked a thumb towards the twins.
For a moment, short as it was and sweeter than any tangible thing, there was a comfort. Security in knowing that their refusal did not remove their place in this home. Because Charlus still looked to his children as if they hung the stars - were the stars themselves, really. And Dorea, having long abandoned her mask of neutrality, offered the warmest of smile. The label did not matter, not truly.
Whether they went by Potter or Black, the three siblings… well, they had been Charlus and Dorea’s children for years. And nothing would change that.
Not even a budding Dark Lord.