A Lateral Move
Dorea Potter (née Black) was — is, she is still alive — my godmother. She was the witch I ran to when I couldn’t stand being around my family any longer, the woman who gave me a home that wasn’t something out of a fucking nightmare, a place I felt safe. I hardly knew her as a child, though she’s my fifth cousin as well. If she hadn’t shared my name, I doubt I would have counted her as family before I met James, and we have, admittedly, grown distant in the years since the founding of New Avalon. Not quite estranged, as I am from my own parents, but distant.
She is, still, though, the only member of my family I’m certain actually loves me.
I know I’m a terrible disappointment to her, but that doesn’t change the fact that she was more a mother to me than Walburga. Especially in those last few years before I left my parents’ home, she was a voice of reason and calm support against their abuses, and perhaps the one person in the world I least wanted to hurt or disappoint...though that makes very little difference, really, in whether I do. I’m certain that I was a terrible source of anxiety and concern and pain to her, despite my best efforts because, well...those efforts were rather seriously undermined by the fact that I was a thoughtless teenager, and also a bit mad. Avoiding causing concern does rather require one to have some idea of what other people consider concerning, after all.
Running off in the middle of the night, for example, without so much as a note. Coming home “late” (by the standards of responsible adults who have been waiting by the floo since the small hours of the morning) after spending the day in the company of an insane Dark Lady. Spontaneously deciding to change sexes, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. All very disturbing behaviours which seemed perfectly reasonable to me.
In my defense, Bella did send a note — I still think it’s understandable I didn’t really expect Dorea to be so worried about me — and Arcturus was more exasperated than concerned by my sudden femininity, which predisposed me to expect that everyone else would be similarly dismissive of the physical consequences of my minor bout of insanity, even if they weren’t actually insane themselves.
Arcturus, however, had known me my entire life, he probably expected me to lose my mind eventually. He was also familiar with the Black Madness — turning myself into a girl was far from the most self-destructive thing any of us have been known to do on a mad whim — and trusted Bella’s judgment when it came to the health and safety of the children of the House (if nothing else). If she said I was fine (albeit female), he was willing to take her word for it. He was, of course, annoyed with Bella for wholeheartedly supporting me — Bella had been significantly less insane than I was at the time, and should therefore have somehow tricked me into temporarily becoming a girl instead of super permanently (“His Potions marks are so low, you probably could have told him there was a permanent sex-change potion, and he would have bought it!”) — but I’m fairly certain I don’t remember a time in my life when Arcturus wasn’t put out with Bellatrix for some reason or another.
Suffice it to say, that impression was entirely false.
“Okay, say something.”
Asteria sighed, rolling her eyes at her cousin, who was being very silly. “Something.”
Oh...that was weird. The glamour Bella had been setting did sound pretty much exactly like she had as a boy, the same voice she’d had for almost seventeen years, but even though it had been less than a day she’d already gotten used to hearing herself sound like a girl. Granted, she had talked a lot today — more than she had in weeks, probably, she’d still been pretty isolated and out of sorts even after Pete managed to drag her arse out of bed — but still.
“Ha, bloody ha. I think that will work, though. Come on, let’s go, I do have shite I need to get done today.”
It was already about eight, but “today” presumably had a different meaning when you routinely stayed up until nine or ten in the morning. This was one of the things Aster found she really envied about Bella’s lifestyle — being able to sleep, or not, whenever she liked, without anyone riding her arse about it. It was right up there with no one (other than de Mort) having the authority to tell her what to do in general. Which was not a good reason to join the Death Eaters, despite Bella’s teasing insistence that it was.
“You’re the one who wanted to walk me back. I could’ve just apparated.” She was also the one who’d wanted to stop and glamour Aster’s height and voice, in an effort to prove that no, her face really hadn’t changed as much as she thought it had. If Dorea and Charlus didn’t notice right away that there was something off about her, that would theoretically prove she still looked practically identical (aside from being a bit shorter now).
“Yeah, but I need to talk to Dorea, too.”
“About what?” Because Aster could not think of a single piece of business that involved both Bella and Dorea. They moved in very different circles. Like, opposite sides of a war.
Bella gave her a look that said she was being very stupid. “You, obviously. In case you’ve forgotten, everyone just realised you’re a little more insane than they thought. And becoming a girl isn’t exactly likely to help your case.”
...Oh. Right. “I didn’t forget...” She just...hadn’t been thinking about it, really. The real world, in general. Her actual life, she meant. It had been...years, probably, since she’d really spent much time with Bella. She’d forgotten how easy it was to get caught up in the...glamour, she supposed, of being a beautiful, wealthy young socialite with the world at your feet, eating at exotic restaurants which you had exclusively to yourself, and flitting in and out of shops as though there was nothing more important than shopping for new shoes and robes and tiny hats (which were the latest fad out of the Continent, apparently), everyone from the shopkeeps to the bloody goblins at the bank jumping to meet your every demand, heads turning as you strolled down the high street, their envy and admiration almost palpable. Going back to her normal life, with the Potters and school and people thinking she was insane, didn’t sound like nearly as much fun.
Of course, she could act like that on her own, Reggie and Cissy did all the time, but her friends wouldn’t...appreciate it. Pete and Remus didn’t have money to burn (not that she did either, anymore), and Jamie was too...self-conscious about their place in society to really enjoy it. Most of the nobles from younger Houses were like that, really — not embarrassed to be seen flaunting their wealth and status, but taking themselves too seriously when they did. Deliberately making a show of it, rather than simply going about their business without a care in the world, enjoying the perks of being, well, young and beautiful and wealthy and powerful.
And Aster would be lying if she said the fact that she was with Bella didn’t make it more fun. Because, honestly? Aster couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually talked to someone and felt like they really understood where she was coming from. Bella did. Which meant that, her being evil aside, spending time with her was just...easy, in a way it wasn’t with practically anyone else. She didn’t have to censor herself, avoiding saying anything too dark or too mad — she did try not to say anything too obviously insane most of the time — and since Bella actually understood her, all of her (entirely unasked for) advice on how to get her life back on track was actually useful and practical in a way nobody else’s ever was.
Regarding her ambitions to become an Auror, for example, and the fact that they might, possibly have a problem with her having no good explanation for how she had suddenly become a girl at the age of sixteen and was going to have a documented history of mental instability, on top of the fact that she was currently failing all of her classes, “Don’t be an idiot, Aster, they’re fucking desperate. As long as you don’t get arrested for a violent offense before you leave school, I guarantee they won’t give a shite about the rest of it. They need fighters they can press into duty as unofficial battlemages — any halfway competent idiot they can throw on the front lines — not investigators,” was much more reassuring than, “Just focus on the present, Sirius. I’m sure John will be willing to certify you of sound mind, assuming you work with him.” (Not that Dorea had actually been referring to Sirius’s prospects after leaving school, Aster hadn’t thought of that potential consequence when she was arguing that she didn’t want to talk to a mind healer, just that everyone would think she was mad in general. More so than they already did.)
Of course, Bella meant ‘halfway competent’ by her own standards, the Aurors still wouldn’t take just anyone. Pete, for example, was brilliant at theory and potions and enchanting, but he couldn’t cast for shite. And while they might overlook becoming a girl, they definitely wouldn’t overlook becoming a werewolf, which was why Remus was considering becoming a freelance cursebreaker. But they would almost certainly take Aster.
So, though she wasn’t exactly likely to admit it, Bella was one of her favourite people to spend time with. She hadn’t complained when Bella decided she wanted to walk to the Potters’ manor from the edge of their ward line. It was another twenty minutes she’d get to spend chatting with Bella, why would she mind? If she was in a hurry though, “We could’ve used the floo.”
“Do you really think the Potters would allow the likes of me through their floo security? I think they would’ve bounced me.”
...Right. Aster really did have a hard time remembering that Bella was evil and good people didn’t like murderers traipsing around their homes, sometimes. Or rather, that good people tended to prioritise the fact that Bella was a murderer over any of the other more socially acceptable hats she occasionally wore — she could just as easily be described as an academic or the First Daughter of the House of Black or a philanthropic advocate for the non-human beings of Britain — when deciding whether they wanted her in their homes.
“Would that actually stop you?” she asked, trying not to get too caught up on the idea that the Potters were good people — normal people (Dorea was the least Black member of the House Aster had ever met) — whose tolerance for Aster and/or Sirius being completely insane she had to be testing by now.
“Of course not, but shadow-walking in would be rude, and probably not incline them to listen to my advice on how to deal with you being a crazy person. Also, this way it’s far less likely I’ll have to talk to Charlus. He’s such a twat. Still hasn’t forgiven me for setting his hair on fire when I was eight. Which I maintain was not my fault, it’s not as though I was the one who put half a bottle of Sleekeasy on his bloody head, and it didn’t do any permanent damage, either, but— Oh, hi, Dorea!” she broke off, grinning at the older witch, striding toward them across the back lawn. “Fancy meeting you, here.”
Dorea ignored her, stepping forward to seize Aster’s shoulders instead, pulling her into a hug which was...not a thing Aster had expected her to do. In fact, she had edged slightly away, anticipating anger of some stripe or another, not worry.
Dorea pulled away quickly, which Aster thought at first was because she was being all stiff and awkward — even if she had been expecting it, she didn’t have a lot of experience being hugged, never quite knew what to do with her hands — but from the way she was squinting at Aster, that wasn’t why. “Are you... Are you glamoured to look taller? Why? Bellatrix! What have you done?!”
“It’s not her fault, Dorea,” Aster said quickly. Somehow, Dorea didn’t seem to find this reassuring.
Bella smirked at the two of them, as though to say, aren’t you just precious. She almost certainly didn’t care whether Dorea considered Aster’s transformation to be her fault or not, but Aster kind of wanted to take responsibility for it. It had been her choice, after all. “Yes, I didn’t expect you to hug her, or I’d have suggested a more comprehensive glamour. I did tell you not to panic, didn’t I, Doe?”
This, understandably, did absolutely nothing to stop Dorea growing more agitated. Aster snorted, asking, “Wait, you told her — literally, actually told her — don’t panic?” at the same time Dorea demanded, “Did you shrink him? How? Why?”
Bella’s eyes narrowed, a hint of confusion on her tone when she responded. “I did, yes. And that you were asleep, and I’d return you sometime this afternoon. Apologies for our tardiness,” she added, turning to Dorea. “Our meeting with Arcturus ran longer than I expected.”
Somehow, Aster suspected that Bella already knew this, and had specifically done it because she thought it was funny to make Dorea worry about Aster all day for nothing, but just in case... “You know when you tell people not to panic, the first thing they’re going to do is assume there’s a reason for them to panic?” Especially when Bella specifically told people not to worry, probably.
Yeah, that smirk said she was taking the piss. (Which would be funnier if it weren’t Dorea she was having on.) “That is hardly my fault. I simply assumed that she would be panicking because you disappeared in the middle of the night, and—”
“Bellatrix!” Dorea cut her off sharply. “Sirius! What the hell is going on, here? Where have you been all day?”
Aster couldn’t help shrinking back, just a little, more out of shame than fear. Dorea wouldn’t actually hurt her, even if getting yelled at by adults was most often quickly followed by getting cursed by them at Grimmauld Place.
“At the moment, we’re testing whether or not the only truly noticeable change is the height difference, and we’re calling her Asteria now.”
“What. Are. You. Talking. About? ”
“What— Aster, why are you still glamoured?” Bella asked, peering briefly over her shoulder, before rolling her eyes at Dorea, and muttering, “Children, honestly,” which was rich, given this was her idea! But she broke the glamours anyway. “Sirius decided that he wanted to turn himself into a girl, so we did that, and then she slept it off for a while, and since then we’ve been shopping and informing Arcturus of recent developments. We also had lunch — for future reference, sleep is optional when mad but food isn’t, even if she says she’s not hungry.”
“Oh, shut up,” Aster grumbled. That had to be at least the third time she’d brought that up, now, which was also hypocritical of her, in Aster’s opinion, because Bella had definitely implied that she’d also passed out from forgetting to eat before, and their measurements were practically identical now. She was wearing one of Bella’s robes right now. (Yes, she knew there was a difference between half-starved and terrifyingly fit, but still.)
“You turned him into a girl?!”
“Well, not me, personally, and really, it’s hardly a noticeable difference, but yes.”
“...Hi, Dorea,” she offered, slightly more audibly.
Dorea just stared at her for almost thirty seconds, apparently taken aback by her new appearance. (Even though her appearance had hardly changed. She was willing to bet she would’ve looked almost as much like Bella if she’d thought to put on a dress as Sirius.) “Why? And how? No, why first!”
“...It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
Bellatrix, on the other hand, gave her a sort of considering hum. “Remember that summer I decided that I wanted a familiar? Or when Arcturus first suggested I get married, and I told him I would convince anyone he attempted to sell me off to that I’d kill them if they went through with it? And remember how everyone told me that those were terrible ideas, but I went ahead and did them anyway, and caused way more collateral damage to people, property, and the reputation of the House than I would have if everyone wasn’t trying to oppose me at every turn? That’s basically why.”
“Turning Sirius into a girl is a little more extreme than setting a nest of Cleo’s Asps loose in the Keep, Bellatrix!” Dorea snapped, slightly hysterically. Aster bit her lip to keep from giggling. She hadn’t heard about that particular escapade, but that wasn’t exactly surprising — Bella had made more trouble as a kid than Sirius had even, there were probably hundreds of little stories about various incidents she’d caused over the years. She hadn’t heard about Bella setting Charlus on fire before today, either.
“Yes, well, if they had just let me have my basilisk, there would only have been one snake to deal with, not twelve. And it wouldn’t have been nearly as resistant to magic. But fine, the runic augmentation project, then, or playing chase with the werewolves.”
Playing chase with the werewolves?! “Wha— Does that mean what I think it means?”
“If you think it means they try to hunt me down on the full moon, then yes. It’s fun.” Bella winked at her before turning back to Dorea. “Point is, Aster is basically me, but ten years younger, with a much easier childhood and, until about eighteen hours ago, male. There’s no harm in her being a girl, so there was no reason not to do it, and trying to stop her would have been far more effort than it would have been worth, and she probably would have found a way to do it anyway, with much greater risk and more collateral damage.” Which was basically the same reason Zee had given for her cooperation last night. Presumably they’d learned that fact together, at some point in the course of Bella’s teenage years.
Dorea took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. It didn’t work. “Do you know how utterly insane— Why— How— This isn’t permanent, is it?”
“Oh, no, it definitely is. Thom was going to call on Hecate for Siri, but the Dark owed him a little payback for breaking the Covenant. It literally rewrote her fundamental identity. Doesn’t get much more permanent than that.”
Dorea seemed oddly incapable of just accepting this and moving on. “Why— Just, why, Sirius?” (“Asteria,” Bellatrix interjected.) “Why would you do this to yourself?”
As though it was some terrible thing, to be a girl? Granted, it had been really fucking painful, she probably wouldn’t have done it if she’d known how badly it was going to hurt, but. Aster gave her godmother a shame-faced grimace. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well that is just too bad, young man! I want an explanation!”
“Young woman, and does it really matter?” Bellatrix asked, though Dorea ignored her, still focused on Aster.
She shifted awkwardly under her unrelenting stare. “I didn’t want to be Sirius Black anymore, okay? Christ. It’s not that big a deal, really.”
“Yes, Sirius,” (“Asteria.”) “it is a big deal! And the fact that you can’t see that... I’ve made you an appointment with John tomorrow, which you will be attending, and you will talk to him, and you will allow him to check whether you’re actually thinking as clearly as you claim, because in case you’ve forgotten, Bellatrix used the Cruciatus on you six months ago!”
Yes, and they’d talked about that, Aster was over it. (It wasn’t six months, anyway — it was closer to ten, which was almost a year, which was practically forever.) Bella, of course, was just as unrepentant now as she had been this morning...er...afternoon. “What’s a little Cruciatus between cousins? She knows she’s still my favourite.”
She did, or at least she’d suspected as much, but it was still nice to hear. Even if she didn’t give a shite about impressing anyone else in the House anymore.
Dorea ignored her interjection. “What happened to you hating everything to do with her and her so-called Lord?”
Right, yes...that. I kind of ruined my life over the past month, and just remembered that I am, in fact, a crazy person, and Bella is the only person who really understands me, and besides, I’m still her favourite. (It was easier to hate Bella when she’d thought Bella hated her.) “...I dunno,” Aster muttered, staring at Dorea’s shoes. “I just— It’s hard to remember they’re evil when they’re being nice to me!” It was actually kind of hard to feel anything as visceral as hatred at the moment, she realised, thinking about it. She mostly just felt...empty. Not bad empty, but like the emotional turmoil and angst and pain of the past few weeks was gone, leaving her kind of just...floating above the clouds in an odd sort of afterglow. Calm and content for once in her entire fucking life. She remembered what it felt like to hate Bella, she remembered that she should hate Bella, but she just...didn’t. It didn’t really feel important. She’d had a good day, not being Sirius Black, with his obligations to dislike people he actually did like, on principle. She knew Dorea was right to remind her of that, but she kind of couldn’t help resenting her a little for bringing her back down to earth. “It’s not like they’re trying to convert me anymore. De Mort actually said they want me on Dumbledore’s side, because he doesn’t have enough good people.”
“Well, it’s more he doesn’t have anyone who actually understands the game, but yes, we welcome your opposition. Also, evil is a matter of perspective, Doe. You used to know that.” Bellatrix gave her a sharp grin.
Dorea shivered, just a little. She had to have been raised in the traditions of the House, but the cadet branches weren’t nearly so steeped in Darkness as the main line — which was really just a slightly more poetic way of saying they weren’t nearly as mad and sadistic (inbreeding might keep them more powerful than the average mage, but it didn’t do their sanity any favours) — and Aster didn’t think she ever remembered Dorea attending a Family ritual. She’d said something after Yule about how she’d never much liked the holiday, which Aster figured meant she couldn’t set aside her revulsion to actually enjoy the high of subsuming the life and soul of the sacrifice. Kind of like Aster’s problem, but opposite.
See, Aster knew it was wrong to fucking eat people, but she had a really hard time not giving in to the hedonistic pleasure of it. Yes, she felt bad about it after, and it hurt, feeling the Dark moving in her soul, the corruption in her very blood, but the pain and guilt and everything she’d learned since venturing out into the world beyond the House screaming that this is wrong didn’t mean it didn’t also feel like the rightest thing she’d ever done — embracing the fact that she was a monster, just like the rest of them. Which of course only made her feel more guilty, once the holiday was over and she was surrounded by sane people who didn’t smirk at her like they knew exactly what she was thinking and you’re allowed to give into it, it’s fine, but in the moment? That didn’t matter even a little bit.
“War is not a game, Bellatrix. It’s life or death!”
The bitch’s grin didn’t falter. “Of course it is. All the best games have real consequences. That doesn’t mean it’s not a game. Aster knows what I mean, don’t you?”
Really, Bella? She didn’t want to answer that — she didn’t want to be having this conversation at all.
“It’s okay, she already knows you’re insane, remember?”
Ugh, apparently Bella wasn’t just going to move on if Aster pretended she hadn’t heard the question. Bitch. She cleared her throat, giving herself another half-second to consider her words. “I think the important thing to remember is, even if war is a game, it’s not... I know it’s serious, okay, and people die — for real, real people with lives and families and friends — but that’s why it’s important that it is a game, with rules and strategies and— I mean, if it weren’t, if they just wanted to take over everything as quickly as possible, de Mort could just walk into the Wizengamot and compel them to make him Lord Protector and have done with it.” Not that she thought he actually would, if only because he hadn’t already done it, or asked Bella to start assassinating their kids or something until they surrendered to him. (Which she was absolutely certain Bella would do, if de Mort wanted her to.) “If we’re playing, we have a chance to win.”
(A small chance. Maybe.)
“Mmm, he couldn’t control all of the Wizengamot at once, or indefinitely, but yeah, basically. Do you really think I couldn’t bring this country to its knees, Auntie? My recruits outnumber the Aurors and Hit Wizards, the Ministry is pathetically unprepared for a full-scale civil war, and Albus Dumbledore would rather see Britain burn than admit to the ICW that he can’t deal with an up-and-coming Dark Lord in his own country. Even odds whether the Old Goat could beat Thom in a real fight, but the two of us could definitely take him. It would be bloody, but we could take over the country before Yule. The thing is, we don’t want to rule Britain — we just want Britain to recognise that we’re a significant power and that we refuse to accept the authority of the Ministry and the Wizengamot to dictate what magic we may or may not practise. We are willing to negotiate, if they would actually come to the table and treat with us as equals.”
That...actually sounded kind of reasonable. And now Aster was wondering what they actually wanted to negotiate for...
Didn’t seem like Dorea was, though. “You aren’t equals, Bellatrix! Britain is a sovereign nation! The Death Eaters are a bloody cult, rebelling against its legitimate authority!”
Bella let out a sharp ha, grinning in obvious delight as Dorea took the bait. “Britain is a nation that rules by the consent of its people, and we do not consent to the ridiculous limitations its government attempts to impose upon us. You’re free to think of it as a rebellion if you like — or a secession, or a revolution, or whatever. That doesn’t change the fact it is a game, and an asymmetrical one at that. The Ministry would see us beaten back into submission, killed or imprisoned. We simply want a treaty which guarantees our autonomy. Us breaking Britain and taking over its entire governing structure would win the war by conventional standards, but it wouldn’t be winning the game. Feel free to have Charlie pass that on to the Old Goat, I’m sure he could use the hint.” ...If the Potters didn’t, Aster might. Surely they’d agree to a ceasefire at the very least for the period of their negotiations. Even if they didn’t actually get anywhere with an actual truce, that would still be something. “And while you’re at it, you can tell him that Siri used a potion to turn himself into a girl temporarily, on a lark, but obviously it wasn’t brewed properly, since it was supposed to have worn off and it hasn’t.”
Er. Right. This wasn’t about politics. Fury warred with concern on Dorea’s face as she was also apparently reminded of that fact. Which meant Bella was just jerking them around, entertaining that little tangent. And now they were going back to talking about Aster, apparently. Damn it!
“Which is fine, I don’t mind,” she added, in reference to her cover story. “If it wears off on its own, that’s fine, but we don’t have to go out of our way to try to get someone to reverse it, or anything.”
“You really expect people are going to accept that you’re just fine with having accidentally trapped yourself as a girl, indefinitely?” Dorea said, with what Aster considered to be an unwonted degree of sarcasm.
Yes, she knew most people would probably have a problem with something like this happening to them — she wasn’t a complete idiot. She could only imagine the shit-fit any of her roommates would pitch if they suddenly became girls. But honestly, she...didn’t think she would actually mind even if it had been an accident. She meant, Jamie and Pete had been accusing her of acting girly pretty much since they’d met her, and she’d never minded that. Or, well, she’d mostly thought it was kind of annoying they acted like it was such a bad thing, and, you know, being all that’s just...not a thing blokes do, Sirius, as though Sirius wasn’t a bloke and also doing whatever supposedly 'non-bloke' thing he was doing at any given moment, thus actively proving them wrong, even as they spoke. There were still times now, after five years and almost two months living with normal people, that Aster still thought outsiders were just...really fucking weird.
But they’d also been living with her for five years. If any of them honestly thought she would lie about not being okay about being turned into a girl, they clearly hadn’t been paying attention. In fact, being openly emotional and demonstrative about it was one of those ‘girly’ things she’d always done. If she was upset about being female, she wouldn’t hide it. “Yes? Why wouldn’t they? I mean, if I tell them I’m fine with it...”
“You are insane,” Dorea informed her, presumably in case she’d forgotten since yesterday. She had spent all day with Bella, so it had been probably almost sixteen hours since anyone called her insane like it was a bad thing (rather than just a fact), but she did still know that. It wasn’t a huge fucking secret, or anything. “Do you— This is mad, Sirius.”
“Asteria. And it’s not, actually.”
“What, precisely, is that supposed to mean?” Dorea demanded, ignoring Bellatrix’s stubborn insistence on calling her godchild Asteria, which Aster kind of thought was a bit silly too. Obviously she knew Dorea was talking to her, she had been answering to "Sirius" literally her entire life. She did kind of like the idea of having a new name just to draw a hard line between her old life and her life now, moving forward, but it wasn’t that big a deal.
Bella shrugged. “Not sure if being put under that much pain burnt her out, or if Angel rewriting her fundamental identity and imposing it onto her body kind of reset her brain, but she’s not actually mad at the moment.”
Aster kind of thought de Mort might’ve done something — she knew he’d done something so she wouldn’t feel the physical after-effects of her metamorphosis properly. Granted, she didn’t know if that had worn off while she was asleep, but she suspected it hadn’t. If she thought about it, she was vaguely aware that she should still be in near-debilitating amounts of pain, that it was there, but just kind of...removed from her immediate consciousness, as though she’d taken about five times the recommended dose of a pain-reducing potion. Which was really kind of neat, and also vaguely terrifying, because he could probably do the opposite as well. (How more people didn't find mind mages absolutely horrifying, Aster would never understand.)
Bella said he couldn’t do that with the Madness, though. She was leaning toward the fundamental identity explanation, specifically because Aster wasn’t really feeling pain at the moment...and also wasn’t nearly as sleepy as Bella would have expected if she were completely burnt out.
But either way, she wasn’t actually out of her mind at the moment (despite the fact that yes, generally speaking, compared to most people, she was still a bit cracked, she was aware, thanks ever so), that was the important bit. “I feel fine, Dorea. Actually fine, not, I’m lying because I don’t want to go talk to a mind-healer fine. Though I still don’t want to go talk to Professor McKinnon.”
Dorea’s eyes narrowed dangerously, as though that was an entirely unacceptable opinion to hold. She wasn’t changing it, though. Just the very concept of mind-healers kind of wigged her out. Even more than normal legilimens. Sure, de Mort was a huge fucking creep, eavesdropping on her thoughts all the fucking time, but at least he didn’t pretend he had some kind of authority to dictate how she should think and declare her to be mad (officially) because she didn’t fit his definition of normal, or try to make her talk about...she didn’t know, why she was a crazy person, and how not to act like it? Maybe she was being overly defensive, here, but she didn’t want some judgy stranger poking around in her thoughts and knowing what a sick, twisted little freak she actually was. And what was he going to do about it, anyway? It wasn’t like she could try any harder to act like a socially-acceptable normal person, and she would not let him tweak her thought patterns to be more to his liking. She knew that was a thing mind mages could do, it was even more terrifying than being able to fuck with her perception of pain (and presumably anything else de Mort damn well pleased). There was no fucking way—
“Professor McKinnon, as in John McKinnon, the chief mind-healer at Saint Mungo’s?”
“He was a friend of my father’s,” Dorea said, sounding slightly defensive, probably because she didn’t really like acknowledging that she used her connections to get whatever she wanted any more than Jamie liked going around acting like Reggie.
“Yeah, Thom knows him, too. He’s good,” she told Aster. “You should go, if only because he can confirm for, you know, normal people that you really are okay with being a girl and stable enough to go back to school, and that you’re not Imperiused to try to assassinate Dumbledore or something. Not that we want him dead. He might get replaced by someone even more obnoxiously Light — or worse, competent.”
Aster glared at her cousin. “Are you telling me you can’t imagine why I might not want someone poking around in my mind?”
“Well, I kind of assumed it’s because you never got over Arcturus mind-raping you to stimulate a basic occlumentic defense? That’s why Cissy and Reg hate legilimency. Or I guess maybe because it reminds you of that time I saved your life, Thom did say I probably traumatised you for life doing that.”
“No— Well, yes, that was awful, and you did traumatise me for life—” Literally. That was the reason she couldn’t do dark magic without it hurting her — she’d been horribly over-sensitised to it in the process of saving her. It had also been suggested that part of the reason she and Bella were so alike was that Bella had made a deep impression on her still-forming mind, using sympathy to build a connection between them as she had, but Aster was pretty sure that was just Arcturus trying to find a way to blame Bella for everything. “—but I’m glad I’m alive, more than last night, at least, and— Hey! Don’t change the subject!”
Bella smirked. “Wasn’t.”
“Well, that’s not it,” she said, glaring at Bella over crossed arms, waiting for her to guess again. When she just continued to stare at Aster uncomprehendingly, though, she caved. “I just... I don’t want people to know what I think about...certain things.” She let her eyes dart toward Dorea, attempting to be subtle, but Dorea had been raised in the House the same as her, she definitely caught it. And she was too out of practice — or maybe just off guard, here in her own home — to hide that little flash of offence and pain, just for a second. Damn it. “How I, you know...feel about them.”
Bella rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about me, is it?”
“No, everyone already knows I’m conflicted about you.” Well, everyone was a bit of an overstatement, maybe, but the Potters definitely knew, and the Blacks. And de Mort, because he was a creepy fucking cheater who cheated. And pretty much all of the baby Death Eaters, because Reggie and Narcissa were gossipy bitches, and Sirius had attended summer training things on occasion for...a while, even after starting school. He hadn’t last summer, because he’d thought Bella hated him, what with their little spat over Yule, but.
“Okay, then... Is it a sex thing?”
Aster felt her face go hot. She had to be positively scarlet. Yes, it’s a sex thing, a sex thing I didn’t want to discuss in front of Dorea, hence the offensive eye-flicking!
Bellatrix laughed.
“It’s not funny!”
“You only think that because it’s you.” And then, because even if Bella were a mind mage and could hear Aster pointedly thinking about not talking about this, she would still live to make everyone around her uncomfortable, she elaborated for their audience: “Trust me, if we were talking about someone else not wanting to talk to a mind-healer because the mind-healer might think they were too dark for harbouring certain sadomasochistic inclinations, when said person apparently tried to arrange for an enemy to be mauled by a werewolf the day before, you would think it was hilarious, too.”
“Bella!” That was not the point, because they weren’t talking about someone else! Aster tried to smack her bitch of a cousin, but Bella was faster and stronger than her, and so easily caught her wrists. Which meant Aster was forced to settle for kicking her in the shin and pouting. (Which Bella thought was almost as funny as embarrassing her and Dorea, she could tell.) “I hate you. Why would you say that in front of Dorea?!”
“Liar. And I’m pretty sure we talked about this? Even the lightest of prejudiced light bastards really can’t complain about anyone else’s sex life as long as everything you do is with consenting adults.” Or (assuming you didn’t get caught) muggles, who could just be obliviated or killed afterward. That was a thing Bella had actually said, back when they’d talked about this. She had, in fact, thought that that was why Sirius was going around fucking muggles in the first place, which had horrifying implications, which Aster had never really thought about because she’d been far too distracted by the rest of the conversation. “There’s really no reason to be ashamed of what turns you on — it’s not like you chose to think any particular thing is hot.”
Aster wrenched her wrists free, turning away to glower at nothing in particular, muttering under her breath. Like Bella was ever ashamed of anything. She had no idea what the fuck she was on about. Even if she was technically right, it wasn’t illegal to play sex games that happened to be a little sharper than most (if you could find someone to play with), that definitely didn’t mean people wouldn’t definitely judge her for it, if they knew.
“I cannot hear you when you mumble, Asteria,” Bellatrix said, in an uncanny impression of Walburga. (Which was not funny enough to make up for talking about Aster being a freak in front of Dorea, seriously, she was already making it very clear she was insane these past couple of days, she didn’t need any help!)
“I said, you’re not ashamed of anything. But normal people don’t think like you, and you know that, and even if they did, or if I weren’t fucked in the head, I still wouldn’t want people knowing how I want to shag them, okay!” Not that she’d ever thought about shagging Dorea, specifically — or, well, maybe like...twice — but just as a general rule she didn’t want anyone knowing how she wanted to shag anyone.
“You’re not fucked in the head, Sirius,” Dorea tried to assure her over Bellatrix giggling like a demented schoolgirl. This was, in fact, a ridiculous thing to say, because if she weren’t fucked in the head, and Dorea didn’t damn well know it, she wouldn’t be insisting that Aster go talk to a bloody mind-healer, would she!
“It’s Asteria. And Dorea’s either lying or delusional. Literally everyone is fucked in the head in some way or other, any mind healer will tell you the same thing. Speaking of which, McKinnon is a professional — if you ask him to take a vow of secrecy, he will. He’s already taken the same oaths as any other healer, too. That is one of the reasons people talk to people like him instead of just getting smashed and confessing all their deepest, darkest secrets to their local barkeep.”
Aster felt herself waver, though more because Bella actually seemed to think her talking to a mind-healer was a good idea too, than because she’d reminded her she could ask for an oath of secrecy. (She was pretty sure she’d rather actually get smashed and rant at Rosie down at the Three Brooms than try to talk to some old professor-ish bloke she’d never met stone-cold sober.) As far as she knew, Bella didn’t think much better of legilimens (other than de Mort) than Aster did. But kind of like she’d brought up Aster being too fucking skinny multiple times today, she wouldn’t have turned the conversation back to McKinnon again if she didn’t have an opinion on the matter. “Are you... You really think I should go talk to this guy?”
“I think if you don’t, you’ll have time after I leave to brood and get all paranoid and twisted up over whether Thom fucked with your head, and guilty over almost getting that kid killed, and generally miserable because you know this doesn’t change anything with Jamie, and spiral into one of those really ugly downs and probably starve to death or something because you don’t have someone like Thom to look out for you when you’re mad—”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bella,” Aster interrupted, sarcasm heavy in her tone.
“Oh, did you want me to tell you pretty lies about how you’re going to be just fine now forever, and being turned into a girl has completely resolved the fundamental dissonance between your actual personality and the person you pretend to be for your little light friends? Because it is not and has never been my job to coddle you.”
Well that was pointed. She was aware that Bella didn’t think much of her friends, but Aster wasn’t just pretending to be a good person to fit in with them! “Oh, fuck you, Bella!”
She smirked. “You’re not nearly mad enough at the moment to actually enjoy the sort of games I play.” Aster’s face grew very hot again, prompting cackling from her cousin. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, run off and pretend you’re having a sulk,” she said, shooing her toward the house. “Just remember to lock the door this time.”
If possible, Aster’s face grew even redder, mostly because, well...Bella wasn’t wrong about the terrible, terrible thoughts she’d just inspired. (Even if she wasn’t mad enough at the moment to actually enjoy any of the things she knew and/or suspected Bella and de Mort got up to, thinking about those things was still fucking hot.) But even if she did still want to know what it felt like to come as a girl, and was currently thinking about all the things she’d like to do to Bella for bringing up the fact that she was a sadistic fucking freak in front of Dorea (Bella would never let Aster actually play-torture her, if they ever did do anything, it would almost certainly go the other way, but a girl could dream), that wasn’t why she turned on her heel and stalked off toward the kitchen door.
Aster was, contrary to popular belief, capable of taking a hint, on occasion...assuming she was inclined to listen to whoever was trying to give her said hint in the first place. Bella clearly wanted to talk to Dorea alone, which on the one hand was slightly ominous — she’d said she wanted to talk to Dorea about Aster, and Aster was instantly suspicious of any conversation about her that people didn’t want to have in front of her — but on the other hand, this was Bella. It was vanishingly unlikely that she’d hesitate to say anything in front of anyone, especially to avoid hurting or offending them. She probably just didn’t want Aster constantly interrupting and dragging the conversation off topic. (She was aware that was a thing she tended to do.)
So, fine. She’d go find somewhere else to be. Now that she was thinking of it, since she didn’t have any other plans at the moment, she actually might go “have a sulk.” Not because Bella told her to, but just because, well...
There were worse ways to distract herself from the whole must talk to the mind-healer thing...which she was not going to think about, because if there was anything that was not sexy, it was the idea of some creepy old legilimens poking around in her head.
...And now she was thinking about the shite Bella and de Mort probably did with legilimency. (God damn it.) Knowing de Mort, she was betting he liked to possess people while he fucked them. Creepy fucking shite. Though, if Bella was half as willing to do anything he wanted as Aster was for Jamie, she probably didn’t mind. In fact, if Jamie were a legilimens, and could just eavesdrop on her constantly and correct her when she started doing things wrong, that...might be kind of—
She let out a startled, high-pitched yelp as she wandered (distracted) through the back door and almost walked directly into Charlus.
This very obviously startled Charlus nearly as badly, as he dropped the bowl of ice-cream he’d been fetching for himself, barely managed to catch it with a levitation charm before it shattered on the floor. (Not that the bowl wouldn’t have been salvageable, but the ice-cream would’ve been ruined...as much as butterscotch-chip cinna-mint ice cream could be further ruined. Ew.) “Good evening to you, too, Si...” he trailed off halfway through Aster’s name, staring at her with a slightly befuddled expression. “Is it just me, or are you shorter today than you were yesterday?”
Aster tried and failed not to groan very audibly. They were going to have to have this conversation, now? (Neither defending her sudden transformation and her complete lack of desire to 'fix' it nor having repetitive conversations in general was even the least bit hot...)
She was still trying to convince Charlus that it was weirder to be eating butterscotch-chip cinna-mint ice cream with strawberry jam on top (she'd been wrong, it could be further ruined...) than to not care about suddenly becoming a girl when Dorea followed her back inside, almost twenty minutes later, she thought. This did not bode well for her prospects filling Jamie in on the situation. He and Charlus were very similar in their attitudes about...most things except werewolves, actually. (Charlus was, if anything, more willing to dismiss shite Sirius said and/or did because he assumed there was some generational thing he was missing — that this was just some thing the kids were doing these days, and thank God James wasn’t so easily swayed by every passing fad.)
“Charlie, love, would you mind giving me a few minutes to talk to Sirius one-on-one?” she asked, in that tone that implied there was only one right answer.
Charlus shrugged, taking another bite of the horrible chimera in his bowl and waving vaguely toward the hallway door with his spoon. “Of course, Doe. Perhaps you will be better able to wrap your mind around this unexpected turn of events. You can explain it to me, because, I’m sorry, Sirius, but I’m afraid I just don’t understand you some days.”
Aster shrugged. She was pretty sure Charlus didn’t actually ever understand her — most people didn’t — but he was at least a good sport about it, just sort of rolling with her being a fucking weirdo.
“Perhaps,” Dorea said drily, as though she very much expected that she wasn’t going to get it either, which she probably wasn’t, because it...wasn’t a difficult concept? Honestly, Aster kind of thought if she didn’t comprehend by now that Aster didn’t care that she was a girl, she probably wasn’t going to, because Aster couldn’t think how else to explain it. “Sirius,” she said firmly, gesturing for Aster to follow her to her sitting room.
She did, of course. If she didn’t, Dorea would follow her to her room, and then she would have nowhere to retreat to if the conversation went south. She kind of hated that she found herself making the same sort of strategic calculations here with Dorea as she would with Walburga, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She didn’t like people demanding to speak to her alone any more than when they demanded to talk about her without her present. It almost always meant she was going to be yelled at and probably cursed. (Though, this was Dorea, so probably just yelled at.) Plus, there was a liquor cabinet in here. Granted, it only held a handful of cordials and brandies for pre-dinner drinks, but there was an open bottle of port, Aster could work with that.
Or she could if Dorea didn’t say “Sit down, Sirius,” as soon as she moved to pour herself a sangaree.
Bugger. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I want a drink...”
“No, Sirius, I would like you to sit.”
Double bugger. She sat. Barely, on the very edge of an altogether too-comfortable armchair, practically vibrating with the need to move, not just sit here waiting for whatever was going to happen. (Yes, she knew this was irrational, Dorea wasn’t going to hurt her, this was just going to be painfully awkward.) She also pouted, because Dorea didn’t sit, she paced between the coffee table and the sofa opposite Aster’s chair, practically rubbing it in that, on top of dragging Aster in here to yell, she was going to make her be still and sober and therefore even more miserable while she did it.
“What did Bella want to tell you?” she asked, more in the hope of derailing whatever 'conversation' Dorea was planning than because she actually cared. There wasn’t really much more Bella could tell Dorea that Aster didn’t want her to know. Honestly she’d be a little surprised if Dorea hadn’t already at least suspected that she was a twisted, fucked up little shite, even. (Assuming Dorea had ever thought about the sort of things Aster thought were sexy, which she probably hadn’t? Maybe? Hopefully...) It wasn’t as though the fact that Aster was more like Bella than anyone (other than Bella, and sometimes Aster) was really comfortable with was much of a secret.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Dorea muttered, before looking over at Aster and coming abruptly to a halt. “Did you really do this because Jamie doesn’t fancy boys?”
Okay, maybe there had been something Bella could tell Dorea to make this conversation even more uncomfortable. “No, of course not, that would be insane,” she said as calmly as possible, maintaining eye-contact and making a concerted effort not to fidget.
Dorea made a disgusted sort of scoff at her. “Lying to me right now would be a fantastically bad idea, Sirius Orion. Would you like to revise your answer?”
“...What happens if I don’t?”
“I’m sure Albus will allow James to come home this evening as well, if you are so reluctant to speak to me.”
Aster was...pretty sure she was bluffing. Not about Dumbledore letting Jamie come home too, if Dorea asked him to, but about Dorea dragging James home to talk to her. James had been even more lost and uncomfortable with the revelation that his best mate was a crazy person than Dorea. She, at least, was aware of the sort of insanity that ran in their family, even if she didn’t have much experience dealing with it. Yes, Aster would be more willing to talk to James, but she didn’t want to freak him out, so that would be kind of counterproductive on the whole honesty front.
She wasn’t sure enough to call her out on it, though. (Dorea was a much better liar than Aster.)
“James’s sexual preference was a consideration. Not the primary one. Or, well, that is why I thought of becoming a girl instead of...” Instead of doing something even more self-destructive. Like maybe finding some underground alchemist to get her so blissed out on viv that she didn’t have to think or feel anything, ever again. “I just...couldn’t stand the thought of being Sirius Black anymore. That’s why I actually did it. Went through with it, I mean.”
“I don’t suppose it occurred to you at any point to, oh, I don’t know, talk to me about not wanting to be Sirius Black?”
Of course it hadn’t. “No. And even if it had, I wouldn’t have.” Dorea raised an eyebrow in a silent command to elaborate. Apparently that answer was insufficient. “You would’ve tried to talk me into being okay with being Sirius and thinking that my life isn’t total shite, and I would’ve had to let you think it worked, because if I didn’t, or you didn’t believe me, you’d’ve dragged me off to Janus Thickley so I couldn’t fucking off myself or something, and that wouldn’t solve the problem. Not even a little bit.”
“And turning yourself into a girl does solve the problem?”
“Er...kind of? More than being locked in a mental ward restrained and dosed to the gills, at least.” Because she didn’t have the slightest doubt that, if she’d thought she was going to be trapped in hospital for being a crazy person, she would resist. If she wasn’t able to escape, she was pretty sure she would’ve just kept spiraling down, and— She really didn’t want to think about it. It wouldn’t have been good, she knew that much. “And if I got away, or you did believe me, I would still have had to do something, so if I’d thought of it I still would’ve passed on all that.” She wasn’t sure Dorea understood the need to just do something, right now, to address a problem, even if it didn’t actually solve it (and in fact often just made things worse). Sitting around and talking it out wasn’t nearly enough. Especially with someone who didn’t understand her, really. If she did, she wouldn’t have made such a ridiculous suggestion.
“Do you really think I know you so poorly as all that, Sirius?” Kind of, yeah. “There’s really no need to go to such extremes to– to draw attention to the fact that you need help.”
Wait, what? “Are you even listening to me? This isn’t some kind of crying for attention or— I thought Bella was joking about that!” She had warned Aster that she was probably going to get more shite about being a crazy person now than she would have if she hadn’t become a girl overnight. “I don’t want help. Not if your idea of help is sitting around talking about shite.” As opposed to making sure she did whatever stupid thing she was definitely going to do in the least stupid way possible. (Zee really was very good at managing crazy people — Aster should send her a thank you and/or sorry I woke you in the middle of the fucking night gift...)
“Ah, yes, because it’s far more helpful to indulge your mad whims and ask the Dark Itself to turn you into a girl.”
Aster’s eyes narrowed involuntarily at that. “Yes, it is. It’s not— I can’t just not be insane, Dorea. Me being a girl isn’t hurting anyone— Well, it did hurt becoming a girl, because the Dark was kind of annoyed with me, but it’s not hurting anyone else, it barely even matters. I mean, I’m level enough to realise it doesn’t actually solve the problem—” It was kind of a lateral move, honestly. “—but at least trying to do something, that helped. And, you know, Bella’s really good at practical advice, which is a lot better than just sitting around like this with me trying to explain that the entire fucking world was collapsing on top of me and I needed to get out, and having you try to convince me that it wasn’t and I didn’t, which is what would’ve happened if I woke you up last night — pretty much the opposite of help.”
Of course, it probably helped that Aster was thinking a lot more clearly now than she had been last night, but she was pretty sure that if she’d wanted to do something that was actually bad, something that would have hurt her in a permanent, debilitating sort of way — like if she’d showed up at Zee’s asking for the name of a viv supplier instead of a blood alchemist, for example — Bella would’ve made her practise dueling or something until she was too sore and exhausted to think or feel much of anything and then made her explain what was going on, and then given her practical advice on how to fix things with Jamie so the world would stop falling apart. (And probably made her eat something.) Because that was what she needed, not Dorea questioning whether turning herself into a girl was a good or bad thing, as opposed to just a thing that had happened — it was fucking irrelevant, okay!
As was, “Forgive me if I can’t wholeheartedly support the idea of Bellatrix advising you on how to maintain your sanity, Sirius.” Aster rolled her eyes. Yes, Bella was insane, but her being a fae, psychotic Dark Lady had nothing to do with the Black Madness. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young man! Bellatrix is the last person you should be listening to in such a vulnerable state of mind!”
“Bella’s literally the only person who actually gets my state of mind, Dorea! What do you think she’s going to do? Convince me to get a pretty matching tattoo and go murder some eight-year-olds with her? They don’t want me to fall in line, that would be boring!”
“War is not a game, Sirius!”
Not to the light, at least. “That’s not— That has nothing to do with what I’m saying! Life without conflict isn’t worth living, okay? And before you say it, I know that sounds insane, but—”
“It sounds insane because it is insane, Sirius! This is why I don’t like you spending time with her, you come home sounding just like her!”
Bull-fucking-shite! This was Aster trying to be honest and explain what the fuck she was thinking for once, because Dorea said she wanted Aster to talk to her instead of running off and doing something insane! “If you want to hear me sound like Bella, I can do that,” she snapped, popping back to her feet and holstering her wand — she hadn’t even noticed she was holding it, anxious habit. She tossed her hair and turned toward the liquor cabinet again, throwing a confident smirk back over her shoulder. “Sure you don’t want a drink, Doe?” she asked lightly. “Might help you come to terms with the fact that Aster and I are practically the same fucking person — which, I note, anyone who’s been paying attention has known since little Sirius was about five. But you didn’t know him back then, did you?” She took a sip of her drink, and added a bit more brandy. “Back when he was still being trained to be the heir of the House.” She leaned against the arm of her chair rather than sitting down properly and (ignoring the highly disturbed expression on Dorea’s face) injected a tone of mischief and familiarity into her voice as she continued, as though it was a secret she wasn’t meant to share that, “He was good at it, you know. Everything the adults could have asked for, really. Clever and cruel and completely unbiddable. A proper Lord Black bows to no one, you know, not ever. Makes it a bit difficult to teach a child anything, but that’s what beatings and pain curses are for. Did you know when he was seven and dying, the only reason he wanted to live was to spite his father?” She let an edge of amusement creep into her tone. “Just adorable. I told him never to let them break him, you know. That’s half the reason he threw himself so strongly into the light — not because he somehow inherently knew 'right' from 'wrong' at the age of twelve despite a childhood spent in the Darkest House, but simply because fuck them. If Aster were to stop resisting the Cause, I think I might actually be disappointed in her.” Aster dropped the act, letting her vaguely amused smirk collapse into a glower. “Do I need to keep going?”
Dorea hesitated, apparently needing a moment to find her voice. “That...depends entirely on what point you’re trying to make, Sirius.”
“I don’t know— I know you hate her, okay. I know she’s fucking evil, and it doesn’t say anything good about me that she’s the only person who really gets me, but she does, and she’s never given me bad advice. I...trust her. She’s not shy about thinking you and Jamie are just as bad an influence on me as you think she is, but she wouldn’t take advantage of me being a crazy person.” Not that Aster could really think of any way she could. Or rather, she didn’t think she was any more vulnerable to Bella’s influence when she was especially mad, she was always kind of—
“You trust her. Have you forgotten that she used the Cruciatus on you last Yule?”
“Yeah, we covered this earlier, didn’t we?” She knew Dorea had brought it up, because Bella’s response had been that Aster was still her favourite. “It’s fine. Yule was like, nine months ago. That’s like forever. And she didn’t mean it, not really. So, I’m over it.”
“Sirius! You don’t forgive people for using Unforgivable Curses on you! And I know you’re smarter than that — you have to feel a curse like that. She can’t have not meant it.”
“She doesn’t hate me, though. And there were extenuating circumstances. It was Yule. And she was right, I was trying to get a rise out of her. And if I want to forgive her for it—”
“Sirius,” Dorea interrupted, suddenly sounding like she was about to cry, what the hell? “There are no extenuating circumstances that can excuse using the Cruciatus on someone, and it’s not your fault if someone chooses to hurt you. Not ever.”
Aster just stared at her for a long moment — marveling at the differences there must have been between their childhoods, if Dorea actually believed that. “If you know the rules and the consequences if you break them, and you break them anyway, and keep going even after you’re warned to stop, it kind of is your fault. And in case you’ve forgotten,” since it had been at least ten years since Dorea had attended a Yule ritual, she never had, as long as Aster could remember, but she had to have when she was a kid, “obscene violence and murder and eating people seems like perfectly normal, reasonable shite when you’re that close to the Dark. It’s not her fault her self-control wasn’t quite as good as usual.” Seriously, Aster wasn’t certain she’d ever seen Bella not holding herself back. Maybe the last time she’d seen an everybody against Bella training exercise? But even then, she actually lost because she was trying not to kill anyone (and some of the older Death Eaters jumped in to help the trainees).
“Stop trying to defend her, Sirius, please,” Dorea said, almost desperately. “You can’t use the Cruciatus on someone if you don’t want to hurt them, full stop.”
“I’m not trying to defend her, I’m just trying to explain why it’s not as big a deal as— Look. I know that. That you have to want to hurt someone to use the Cruciatus on them. But that doesn’t mean the same thing to Bella as it does to normal people. She always wants to see everyone in pain. And I’m not entirely convinced she understands how normal people experience the Cruciatus, either.” Honestly, the moment of elation and mental clarity that followed the curse being lifted meant it wasn’t the worst pain curse Aster could think of, either. That one Cygnus used to use that felt like burning alive, for example, hurt almost as much, and sort of lingered, drawing out the misery so there was no high after. “She and de Mort use it for fucking foreplay. Which, yes, that’s completely fucked up,” she added quickly, forestalling an interruption. “That’s what she meant, when she said I’m not mad enough to enjoy her games—” Not mad enough now, which had...interesting implications that Aster really didn’t need to get distracted thinking about in front of Dorea, stop it, brain! “—but obviously pain and hurting people doesn’t mean the same thing to her as it does to us.” Well, to Dorea at least. Aster...really didn’t know about herself. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. The idea of mixing up sex and pain was just...fascinating, but she’d never actually done it. It could be one of those things that sounded nice but she really, really hated in reality, like actually dating Marlene for all of two minutes last spring. “And I believe her when she says being that close to the Dark seriously fucks up her self-control.”
And speaking of Yule, there was a part of her that kind of thought she deserved that Cruciatus — not for antagonising Bella, it was definitely a disproportionate response to that, but for participating in Yule herself. Forenjoying it. She deserved some kind of punishment for that, she thought. But even if Dorea might actually agree with that sentiment, Aster wasn’t entirely comfortable admitting aloud. That she did enjoy it.
“That’s not an excuse, Sirius!”
“I don’t care, I’m excusing her anyway.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t known for ages that Bella wasn’t the perfect storybook heroine she’d seen her as when she'd been a little kid, but she was still the only person who’d been on her side for those last few awful years before she’d been able to go to school. The actual curse itself wasn’t nearly enough to make her turn on Bella, especially now she knew Bella didn’t hate her — that, thinking Bella was done with her, had hurt much more than the Cruciatus, if she was honest. “You can’t make me hate her.”
“I shouldn’t have to make you hate her, Sirius, she’s a murderer! She enjoys killing people.”
“Yes, and that’s fucking awful, but she doesn’t ask me to kill people — she doesn’t even ask me to do dark magic! And that has nothing to do with her giving me good, practical advice on how to deal with being a fucking crazy person! Which I trust she will, because she’s always, always tried to teach me shite I need to know, and she’s never tried to trick me into hurting myself or been cruel to me just for the sake of it, which is not something I can say about anyone else who would know a damn thing about dealing with being completely insane!” Orion, for example, was mad — in more of a down way than Bella, the way Aster had refused to get out of bed for the better part of a week was a lot like him...though he would probably have been drunk or numbing himself with poppy tea as well as lost in his own misery — presumably both he and Walburga knew how to deal his being a crazy person. But Aster wouldn’t trust either of them to actually want to help her.
“Like what?” Dorea demanded, suspicion in every tense muscle of her face, the set of her shoulders...
“What?”
“What kind of good, practical advice did she spend the day filling your head with?”
“...I don’t know, just...stuff.” Stuff that she was pretty sure Dorea wouldn’t approve of. Though she obviously didn’t approve of Aster not telling her, either, a disapproving glare following her as she paced behind her chair — she never had sat down again, she realised, and she was still holding her empty glass. She set it down on a side-table with a firm clink, rather than pour herself another, because she wanted to be like Orion even less than she wanted to be like Bellatrix. Bella might be unapologetically evil and nearly incapable of dealing with normal people outside of formal events without fucking terrifying them, but at least she enjoyed her life. “Make a habit of taking nutrient potions and find someone I trust to tell me if I’m acting like a crazy person.”
That one was slightly complicated by the fact that James wasn’t speaking to her. Pete and Remus would notice, and Pete wouldn’t be too timid to tell her off — as evidenced by the fact that he had, a couple of weeks ago — but she was pretty sure that James was the only one of them she would be willing to listen to if he told her she needed to get her head out of her arse. And because Bella didn’t trust that James would recognise or be able to figure out how to deal with Aster being more insane than usual (especially if he had his own head stuck up his arse), she was also under orders to, “Answer her letters so she knows if I’m getting too up to judge my own limits, or so down I’m fucking suicidal.”
(How Bella was planning on telling that from letters, Aster wasn’t really sure, because she certainly wouldn’t just tell her. She’d just said Aster should go back and look at her diary over the past couple of months, and it would be fucking obvious.)
Dorea’s eyes narrowed even further at the idea of Aster having even more contact with Bella. Called it... “No. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, just... If you want to write to someone, write to me, or Andromeda. Not her.”
“I still haven’t heard back from Andromeda. And, no offence, Dorea, but...” No. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. That she didn’t actually trust Dorea enough to be honest with her. She couldn’t hurt her like that. Which was actually part of the reason she couldn’t be honest about what the fuck was going on in her head, too. There was nothing she could say to Bella that would scare her, or make her go all teary-eyed like Dorea started to as soon as she hesitated. “Please, don’t cry, Dorea. I’m not trying to hurt you, I just— I can’t tell you the sort of shite I can tell Bella. You— She doesn’t make me feel like a bad person for wanting to do bad things, okay?” Please, please, please don’t ask what kind of bad things ...
“You’re not a bad person, Sirius,” Dorea insisted, sniffling. “And if I’ve ever made you feel as though you are, I’m sorry, I’ve obviously failed you in some way—”
“No, you haven’t,” Aster lied. (Not about the failing her, it wasn’t Dorea’s fault she was fucked in the head, but she knew she was a bad person by Dorea’s definition, so yeah...)“It’s just—” It’s just, you’ve made it clear that violence and hurting people and taking advantage of them are bad things — and I don’t disagree — and people who enjoy doing bad things are bad people — and I don’t disagree with that, either — so even if I try to be good, even if I pretend and act like a good person, I’m not. Not really. “It doesn’t matter, if I don’t answer Bella, she’ll just come up to school to check on me,” she pointed out, trying desperately to change the subject.
“I believe I’ve told you not to lie to me once already tonight, Sirius.”
“Well, fine, then!” Aster snapped. She’d tried. If Dorea wanted honesty, she could have honesty. “I love you, and I can’t ever repay you for giving me a place to go that’s not there, with them, but I don’t belong with the Light! I’m not a good person, okay? I try, but it doesn’t come naturally to me, not like hurting people does. I see you sitting there, being all horrified and guilty because of me, and I like it.” Dorea flinched. “Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, having the power to hurt you, twist the knife a little, like, you and Charlie and the Light in general like to talk big about unconditional love and acceptance, and how there’s nothing I could do to make you treat me like Walburga and Orion do, but you don’t know what unconditional even means — forgiving Unforgivables, in case you were wondering! Helping your mad, idiot baby cousin get her head back on straight, even if she doesn’t even pretend she doesn’t think you’re fucking evil, is also a pretty good example!
“Taking me in when I’m hurt and lost and hating the same people you hate, and you can feel good about yourself for saving me and converting me to the Light, that’s easy, but having to deal with me being completely fucking mad and realising that I’m not an adorable, confused little twelve-year-old anymore, trying my best to deny that I’m anything like the rest of the House? That’s a lot harder, isn’t it? If you won’t curse me, it’s not because you think I don’t deserve it, it’s just because you don’t like to think of yourself as the sort of person who would hurt a child, and what if she curses me back? — oh, that struck a nerve, didn’t it.”
It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t need an answer. She already knew it had, the way Dorea’s eyes widened just slightly, the tightness around her lips... She’d been annoyed when Aster pointed out that she and Bella (and the Family in general, really) were better at that whole unconditional acceptance thing than literally any light mage Aster had ever met, but now she was scared. Which was just inherently funny, somehow. Don’t laugh, Aster...
“Yeah, news flash, Doe, I’m not a little kid anymore. Did Bella tell you I’m dangerous?” More fear, fingers twitching toward her wand... Yes. She had. Fucking bitch. That wasn’t necessary, Bella! “Did she tell you I want to hurt you? That I’ll try to do things your way, but if you push me too far, I might? I know she told you I did this for Jamie. Did she tell you that if you try to keep me away from him, I might try to kill you?”
She wouldn’t, Jamie would never forgive her, and she wasn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t find out eventually. She had tried to stab Bella with a table knife for suggesting at lunch that the best thing she could do now was find someone else to obsess over and never speak to James Potter ever again, but she had really just been making a point — it wasn’t like Bella would have actually let her — and she knew not to pull that sort of casual violence on people who weren’t Bella (or Narcissa, though she didn’t just let it go like Bella did). From the increasing shock and horror on Dorea’s face, Bella knew she hadn’t meant it too, and hadn’t gone that far with her scare tactics. Oops.
“Circe’s tits,” she muttered to herself. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Dorea, I wouldn’t. I won’t even hurt you if you don’t make me, but if you want me to talk to you and you won’t let me lie to you, I’m not going to feel bad about it when you do get hurt.” She would feel bad about not feeling bad — about thinking the idea of Dorea being afraid of her was fucking hilarious, even — but that wasn’t really the same thing.
“Somehow I...don’t find that terribly reassuring, Sirius,” Dorea said slowly, her attempt at cool confidence somewhat undermined by the tiniest quaver in her voice. Aster fought to keep from grinning as she caught it, but obviously didn’t do a very good job of it, because that unease only grew more prominent as Dorea continued. “She told me that all of this, the madness of this past month, seemed completely reasonable to you. If that’s true, I think you should be able to see how I might find it a bit difficult to put much faith in your judgement at the moment.”
“Of course it did. But Bella says that I can’t keep trying to apologise to Jamie and show him I’ll do whatever he wants to make it up to him if he’d just tell me what that fucking is. She thinks he’s at least as much in the wrong for shunning me over something so completely stupid as fucking Evans, especially because that heartless bitch doesn’t even like him...” She hesitated, hoping Dorea would give her a hint as to whether that was actually wrong, because James’s behaviour was generally speaking her standard for right, and everyone knew Bella was shite at normal people, how the hell would she know what was disproportionate for that sort of betrayal? But Dorea didn’t say anything, so Aster moved on. “And even if he weren’t, Jamie’s not de Mort and wouldn’t think that me being willing to do anything for him is nearly as endearing — snakey creep apparently thinks I’m just fucking precious, he’s such an arse. But making it clear that I would would actually make him very, very uncomfortable and therefore the best thing I can do for him is act like I’m not in love with him and painfully desperate for him to forgive me... Please don’t tell him, by the way,” she added, as it occurred to her that Dorea might not approve of this particular approach to wooing her son just because Bella had suggested it. “The whole point is kind of to not freak him out.”
Dorea just continued to stare at her with that same peculiar look she’d been wearing since Aster admitted that, yes, of course everything she’d done had seemed reasonable — did she think Aster wouldn’t have done it if it hadn't?
“Hello? Ground control to Dorea Potter...?”
“Ground control...?”
“It’s from a song, not important.” Though she could, she realised, probably say shite like Bowie’s totally fab now, without having to put up with endless mockery. (Thinking David Bowie was sexy was apparently a thing blokes didn’t do. Despite it being an undeniable fact.) “You kinda checked out there for a second.”
“Oh. It’s... I’m sorry, I was just reminded I’ve a letter to write yet this evening.”
A jolt of panic shot through her chest. “You’re not going to tell Jamie, are you?”
“No. I just thought of a couple of questions earlier that I’d like to put to John.”
“...You know, if it’s something about me, you can just ask me. Honestly, if you want me to talk to you, the least you could do is not talk about me behind my back.”
“It’s nothing, Sirius. A passing fancy about something Bellatrix said.”
Uh...huh. Yeah, Aster totally believed that. And the fact that Dorea wouldn’t tell her wasn’t making her at all paranoid that it was going to be something she really wouldn't like when she found out about it. Her mind leapt immediately to Dorea requesting that “John” find some way to keep her in hospital, where she wouldn’t be a danger to herself or anyone around her, including Jamie. (Which was ridiculous, because she would never hurt James. Never.) Not because she really thought Dorea would arrange for her to be committed against her will, she was sure she was just being paranoid, it was just the worst case scenario...but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to write Bella now and tell her to come rescue her if she ended up restrained and sedated in the depths of the long-term mental ward.
Right now, before she forgot and woke up in a hospital bed under a constant potion-drip, cursing herself for not planning ahead.
“I...guess I’ll leave you to it, then...?” she suggested, edging toward the door.
“If you like. We can continue this conversation tomorrow, when we’ve both had a chance to...catch our breath, in the wake of today’s revelations.”
Because that wasn’t the most awkward way ever to say I need to think about how to address you being a dangerous fucking lunatic. Aster nodded. “...Right. Sounds good. ...Sleep well,” she added lightly, as though they hadn’t just been discussing what Dorea what would likely characterise as Aster’s unhealthy obsession with her son (and as though Aster hadn’t kind of said something that could be interpreted as a threat to kill Dorea if she tried to get between them about three minutes ago...oops). Cruel, maybe, to throw something so incongruous at her, likely ensuring that she wouldn’t sleep well if she had even the slightest doubt about the likelihood of Aster turning on her, but Aster was going to be lying awake wondering what Dorea wanted to ask McKinnon, and why it couldn’t just wait until she saw him in person tomorrow, so.
Turnabout is fair play, and all that.
Today had been, she reflected, meandering toward her bedroom, an awfully good day before she’d had to come back to being Sirius Black...
Definitely a lateral move.