A Bond Must Stay True
The first time you met Sirius Black was on the train ride to Hogwarts. In fact, you could remember the second your big (e/c) eyes peered into his from down the expansive hall, your cart far from his and his new found friends. He’d been bright eyed back then, rowdy and excitable, and in the back of your mind, cute too. He didn’t speak to you then, but he did wave, rambunctiously, and although shy, you waved back before he darted back into his cart. With a tiny smile and the faintest of blushes touching your cheeks, you pushed back into your empty cart, sitting by the window and peering out.
Your parents had wanted to send you to Durmstrang, something about it better suited to your lifestyle as a vampire, and they were counting on you taking over the family business one day, whatever that may be. Your mother, who did not attend the infamous school, had been a Slytherin at Hogwarts and her word had always been final in the household. She wanted you to carry on her legacy, to be a Slytherin. They had only ever given you information about that house, sullying the name of the other three. Being so young, you took their word as law, followed their directions, knew of the life ahead of you without ever really deciding for yourself.
God forbid they ever discovered the thin tattoo written in messy font along her wrist. It was customary for her kind to have their bond tattoos, if there is one present, removed because there truly is no such thing as love when you are royalty among your kind. She would be married off in a political union to some unknown later on, when she inherited her namesake at 17, and maybe she would fall in love with them, maybe not. But she really wanted to meet Sirius. Maybe he was nice, amazing, maybe he was fun too.
She would soon learn that he was all of those things- but so much more.
You ignored the people on your boat, quietly sitting in the back as the inky darkness of the sea beneath you drew in all of your attention. The ride itself is comfortable, the gentle rocking of the boat calming in a way, helping to ease your growing nerves as everyone grew closer and closer to Hogwarts. The building is so vast and visible, beautiful in its delicate and strong architecture. You had always been interested in structural things and how buildings were warded, but your family wanted you to find something more prestigious to be interested in, like potions. (You soon learned that you did not have a good affinity for the art of potions making. But you did have an amazing skill for charms and transfiguration). Taking in a little breath once the boat pressed against the shoreline, you scurried out after the other children, making the trek up to the tower among all of the chatter. You keep to yourself, being an only child and a royal has alienated you in the way of making friends, but it is nice to be around people your age, children just as excited as you are. You can see a group of boys ahead, laughing loudly and talking about the house they want to be in. Gryffindor. The lion, if your memory served you correctly. You were glad they were so sure of themselves, because you weren’t. Slytherin is what you had been told, but it was not what you knew. You were just afraid of how your parents would feel if you were put in a different house.
But those boys, Remus, James, you caught a few names, were proud to there, so sure of themselves that it made you hopeful for whatever house you were placed in. You could remember the scent of fear and excitement as all of the first years gathered right in front of the dining hall door, Professor Mcgonagall strict with a no-nonsense about her. In a way, she reminded you of your mother.
“In a moment, you will be sorted into your houses one by one. When your name is called, go up to the chair and sit very still. I welcome you all to your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hope it won’t be your last..” WIth that, she was gone with a flourish of her emerald and the doors were opening to reveal all of the older students, taking up four long tables with another table full of teachers and the head master.
McGonagall stood with a list in her hands, voice calling out, “Sirius Black.” There was an entire wave of silence passing over the tables and hushed whispers of darkness and deceit. You lightly pushed your way through the crowd to the front the moment you heard the name, you knew it, had been staring at it for two years, had wanted to meet the boy the universe had chosen. And it was him! The boy from the train! He was bright eyed and cocky smiles and the moment the hat settled on his unruly dark locks, it started to laugh as if welcoming Sirius like an old friend. He was sorted into Gryffindor, welcomed into their ranks with the loudest cheers, the roar insatiable.
“M-Mistress?” Your gave one blink, snapping back into focus as your eyes peered off to the side at your house elf, Marty. You had set her free the moment it all became yours, but she had wanted to stay in your honorable house, stay in your care because you did care. You often cared so much because it was all it took to not break down into an inconsolable mess.
“Yes, Marty?” You ask softly, smallest smile on your lips as you set aside your paperwork, eyes grazing over your wrist. It had been removed years ago, it felt like everything had been a millennium ago, and now you sat with your bare wrist and your partially ruined heart, running an estate you wanted nothing to do with and needing to feed. Marty gave you a sympathetic gaze, taking a few steps closer and reaching out, a gesture asking for your hand. You oblige, giving her your larger hand and trying to smile more, but it is no use. You feel like you’re turning into a mess of shambles, having lost so many people already.
“I- I didn’t want to tell you, b-but he’s gone, Mistress. Sirius Black is dead.” And the little memories flashing through your minds eye tears you up further, makes it harder to breathe, and if not for Marty’s magic sending a wave of calm, you’d be unable to function, to feel anything but pain. It shouldn’t hurt this much. You had married another, had a few children, happiness came to you in the form of little things. You had grandchildren. The love for Sirius Black had waned and fallen to the back drop of your mind the moment you let him go- but it would always be there because love doesn’t just go away. It doesn’t die.
“I-I see. Please bring me my O negative a-and the Jack. After inheriting your vampire abilities, the only way to successfully get drunk was to mix you blood with alcohol. It worked like a charm; you’d need it to make it through this night, need it to make it through the next and the next, too.
Sirius was gone now, forever, no longer in a metaphorical sense but in the physical as well.
Being sorted into Slytherin was not as bad as you thought it would be. In fact, you quite liked it. There were the prats who tried to rile you up and see what you were made of, and you were quick to put them in their place, gaining more of this image of a vampire princess. It was annoying, to be honest. But then, one potions class, you happened to sit at a table with Lily Potter. Pretty. Gryffindor, and sweet as could be. She didn’t care about your house or the rumors, in fact, she’d welcomed you as a friend and human being. It felt nice to be included in some way. And even though you were quiet, she didn’t take it the wrong way. After class ended, she asked you to sit with her at her table. In those days, someone sitting outside of their house was judged, ridiculed, but you didn’t care.
Lily felt like a sister to you, and sitting with her amongst the lions felt safer than any snake who had ever bothered to sit beside you. She introduced you to James and Remus, you remembered them from the sorting night, Peter and Sir-
“It’s you,” Sirius says with a knowing smile, leaning over the table with his hand set in his palm, giving you this look you don’t understand. Your bond mark comes to live, throbbing and warming up exponentially, you were worried it might just burn through the black band around your wrist. You manage a bashful smile and peer down at your plate as Lily introduces the two of you, glancing at you from the corner of her eye with a knowing smile. She has a feeling things are going to happen and she isn’t even surprised in the least when they do. You can still remember the roses Sirius stole from the herbology greenhouse a couple months into the first year, his fingers riddled with scratches from having pulled them up himself. He wanted to prove to you that he could handle manual labor and that he wasn’t a child. It was silly because he could’ve just used magic- but it felt more special that he didn’t. You’d later place the roses in an impenetrable bubble on top of your desk, staring at it long into the night, wondering how you had suddenly become the happiest girl in the world.
Your first year was spent being coy, skirting around the issue and the fact that you liked each other. It wasn’t until just before the summer that Sirius did something about it in complete Sirius fashion, grabbing you by the hands in front of everyone and planting a soft kiss on your lips. That had left you giddy the entire way, sitting beside him with your new friends in your full cart, feeling whole, feeling complete. Your first year had been wonderful; the second year had been better.
You both wrote each other throughout the summer, your owl Magnus seeming to taking a liking to Sirius’ owl as well. It was funny, really, because your dark owl would always come back being more excitable than the last time he was home. You could tell Sirius was probably feeding him extra as well, the little cheat. Your letters stayed stacked up beneath your bed, far from your parents gaze because they would forbid you from seeing him the moment they found out he was a Black who had become a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin. But you didn’t care. The house politics didn’t even concern you anymore.
Sirius would write to you about how hard it was being home. His mother was horribly patronizing person who looked down on him for being who he was, for seeing beyond his name and title. It hurt you to read his tears sometimes, to see what living there was doing to him. But your life…. How was it any better? You didn’t tell him about the arranged marriage proposal in the future. Didn’t tell him about the vampire nature you possessed deep down, even if there were rumors. You would try to be encouraging and give advice while letting him know that you missed him.
When you did see each other again, you were closer, and second year continued that way, you suddenly being integrated into the group, much to the horror of other Slytherins. Severus hated you for being one of them, for you never standing up for one of your own house while James and Sirius made fun of him. Despite popular believe, you did try to talk them out of it, but your words had always fell on deaf ears. Severus was a little sourpuss anyway.
You grew stronger, your vampire senses growing more intense as time passed. You could smell more potent or faint things, your eyesight had grown better. Hearing blood was an issue you would work out later- you didn’t want to bother anyone with this. Your parents had barely talked to you about coming into your abilities and now that they were thousands of miles away, an owl wouldn’t be enough to learn by. So you kept your nature to yourself, even on the nights Sirius snuck into your dormitory to cuddle, ignoring your sputtered questions and tugging you into bed. You curled up tight against him, face pressed into his pajamas as you breathed in his husky scent. You wanted to tell him about your bond tattoo… but something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was good that he didn’t learn about it until it was too late for the both of you. It wouldn’t have changed anything.
Pushing papers aside, you lay your head down against your polished rosewood desk, sighing and closing your eyes as you let the pain sweep over you. You would send a patronus later, have to keep in sobs at seeing the difference. It would be hard to keep calm because you know that finding out the man you loved died will change so many feelings inside. Sadness. So much sadness. You keep your eyes closed, allowing the tears to flutter down your cheeks.
You found out about Remus’ affliction in your fourth year. It was all too easy if you were being honest with yourself. All it took was one sniff of him on accident, coming close to the new moon, and you just knew. You stared at him, eyes narrowed unconsciously because vampires and werewolves do not get along, have never gotten along, but you cared about him and to know that he had been hiding this secret hurt you to your core. To be fair, he hadn’t smelled the vampire in your blood either and you had never told anyone about it. You were just naturally that pale for your complexion and thin, of course. He pulled you aside after transfiguration class into a little alcove, fear in his eyes and in his blood. You take his hand instead, squeeze it gently, and smile.
“Remus, it’s alright. I promise. I promise I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to worry. I just wish you had told me.” You confess, smile growing smaller. Remus shakes his head, he’s always been the brainy one aside from you and Lily, and to know that he was such a young werewolf was growing from alarming to saddening. He’d be shunned. Ridiculed. Feared. The ministry would try to have his head for this.
“Sirius and I, well, all of us, we didn’t want to get you involved. For your safety. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you.” And you believed him. You trusted him. You had trusted him so very much that the pain later on made you deranged and there was nothing he could do about it because True Bonds are true for a reason. Remus let you in, told you about what happened and how the headmaster, Dumbledore, had helped him, how his friends had been practicing animagus transfigurations to stay with him in his time of need. And you? You instantly did the same. You’d always been better at it than the rest of them, to be truthful. The first night you transformed with them, it was your first try and you were the most stunning silver and grey german shepherd anyone had ever seen. It was no surprise that Sirius was the black version and you had never even known. You two were just meant for each other in that way. For a long time, you thought that too.
You didn’t blame him for it, no matter how much you wanted to hate him for breaking you into pieces and stealing the best parts for himself. You didn’t blame Remus, because he deserved something good and kind in this world where there weren’t good and kind people to him. He and Sirius had always been together, but yet, the same could be same for you. You had been his everything, once, and he had been yours. Such memories, such time twisting and changing. Such is life.
Marty arrives at the door, alerting you to her presence, but you ignore it and keep your eyes closed, too deep in your mourning. Soon, you would lock yourself away somewhere dark to mourn truly, in vampire fashion. Vampires can mourn for months at a time, years even if the hurt is too great, but you wouldn’t do it. You couldn’t. Sirius would never want you to feel so much sorrow on his behalf. He’d hated himself in your stead when you said you couldn’t. He’d felt that guilt sit on his shoulders as he gave you the last kiss on your forehead in the common room, turning to leave before he could see you cry. You didn’t. You couldn’t, not them. It seems that now was the time to let the tears take over, cry over everything you had given and lost, over the friends you would never see again. Your house elf leaves the Jack Daniels and O negative in two glass jars at the end of your desk before whisking away.
You remember traveling all over Hogwarts grounds in your shifted form, taking down Remus if he became too much, shifting back in the morning and laughing over the exhilarating feeling it was to travel freely. You remember the hugs and kisses, Remus ruffling your hair, Sirius batting his hand away before smoothing out the mess left behind. They had been your world.
Sirius. James. Lily. Remus.
Your world had come crashing down just before graduation in your seventh and final year. And hadn’t that just crushed you. You’d planned on finally, finally telling your parents about everything, all of the secrets and lies, about the illegal animagus form, about Sirius, the Gryffindor boy with hair dark as a raven. And then- maybe you could feel it, because that day, your tattoo had given a twinge, and then another as he came closer, and then it just went cold.
“Can we talk, (y/n)?” He’d started, unable to meet your gaze. You’d always been given access into the Gryffindor common room since they had considered you one of them. It was lit with a homely fire crackling. You set aside your charms book and pat the empty seat beside you, an infectious smile curling along your glossed lips.
“Of course we can. What’s up?” You asked as he sat, reaching to take your hands. He stares at your joined hands for a moment before taking in a deep breath and looking up into your eyes. He looks tired, guilty, as if something had been slowly eating away at him and you were finally beginning to notice. You open and close your mouth, blinking a few times. What he says simply confuses you, makes everything you thought you knew feel like a lie.
“I- I got my tattoo today, you know, for ma Bonded? And I- I always pictured your name on my skin,” He started, looking away from you again before he removed one of his hands, reaching for the sleeve of his robe and pulling it up. You make out the word instantly even if it is upside down, five letters written carefully just along his forearm. Remus? Why is Remus written on his skin? It couldn’t mean-
“R-Remus?” What?
“It’s Remus. He’s my… He’s my Bonded. And-” This was the part that set things in motion, “I’m his.” He takes another look at you and wants to die. There, in the depths of your wet eyes, is so much hurt that it makes his stomach turn, as if he might vomit right there on the carpet.
“I never meant for t-this ta happen, (y/n). You have ta know that. But he’s my true bond and- you know I love you right? You must know I love you.” You don’t respond. You know he loves you. You know it deep down in your soul, knew he’d always love you in his own way, but not in the same way anymore. He couldn’t kiss you. He couldn’t hold you the same way. And for the first time, you felt disappointment like a white hot iron being shoved down your throat. You couldn’t speak.
Remus. He knew that Sirius had told you the second he entered the common room, could sense it in the way you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the pain he had caused you. You left as he stood there, stalking out the common room and unsure of where to go. The Slytherin’s wouldn’t understand. They would be petty, inept in helping at all. They would try to boast about taking Sirius down in your name. You didn’t want that. Sirius didn’t deserve that.
You produced an invisibility charm with ease and traveled out to the black lake shores, just by the sleeping giant squid’s tentacle. You stared out into the darkness for a while, trying to understand the feelings bubbling under the surface. Lily found you there, tear stained and hurting, tears in her own eyes as she sank to her knees and embraced you. There are no words exchanged. Simply hugging between one sister sharing the other’s pain.
.
.
.
.
You sit with them the next day, and it feels like the first, except Peter shifted and Sirius and Remus are sitting together, wrapped up in a quiet conversation. They stop the moment you sit down with a thick volume, Sirius speaking up after a moment. Everyone at the table knows. They won’t stop staring at you as if you are brave or stupid or a pariah again. Everyone in the whole school probably knows it too. Your best friend stole your soulmate. Except the truth is that they were meant for each other now.
“(y/n).” Sirius nods his head for the great hall doors and you nod in return, telling Lily you would be a moment and getting up to leave, Remus and Sirius behind you. The three of you walk out the great hall and off into a diverging corridor. Before you can speak, Sirius and Remus are on their knees at your feet, staring at the ground. No, no, no. Any other Slytherin might have basked in the glory of seeing them this way, but it only made you want to cry. You raise a hand and brush at your eyes.
“W-What are you doing?” You ask, voice always so soft and delicate. They flinch at how it breaks and quakes, feel more guilt.
“We are sorry,” Remus murmurs, voice grave, “I- I never wanted to hurt you, (y/n). I wish I could give it back, but I can’t. I- I love him. I do. I honest to the Gods do. And I am sorry that my love has hurt you.. Because I love you too. I love you with all that I am. I would never want t-to make you cry the way I have.”
“R-Remus, stop.” You’re blubbering already, unable to stop it even if the tears haven’t fallen, they stay right there on your lids, refusing to fall, “I-It’s not your fault. I d-don’t want you to feel b-bad about something o-out of your c-control.” You couldn’t blame him for being a werewolf. You couldn’t blame him for this either.
“Y-You will always be in my heart, (y/n).” Sirius finally speaks, and it sounds as if he had been crying even harder than you.
“G-Get up, the both of you, y-you stupid prats.” You huff, reaching down to tug at their robes. They both stand, towering over you so much, and you can’t help it. You aren’t angry the way you want to be. You want to scream and toss up a fit and be disgruntled and hex them- but the love you feel for them is too much. It masks the pain as you curl your arms around their hips, crowd them in and hide away in their chests. It hurts to touch them, but you endure. The same way you would always endure until you were finally over Sirius, no matter how long that would take. Your wrist doesn’t hurt. It’s cold; it feels better that way. They hug you back and hold you close, murmuring their thanks for your understanding.
You couldn’t hold this against them, it would be the ultimate betrayal. And although it would be hard to see them together, over time, it wouldn’t hurt so bad and maybe one day you could laugh about the fact that you had dated Sirius for years and the bloke turned out to like other mates.
You capped your pain in a bottle and set it in a back shelf. You stayed by their sides through graduation, couldn’t help but feel pride swell in your chest because Sirius had defied the odds of his heritage and it inspired you, proud of James and Lily and their strong relationship, so damn proud of Remus for being more than the species forced upon him. And in that high, you finally confessed the truth about being a vampire and acquiring your inheritance.
The last time you saw them was Lily’s wedding. You had been blessed with being the Maid of Honor, and it was no surprise that Sirius would be Best Man. Seeing him did not bring back old feelings of love, but bolted you with that sense of camaraderie and care and loyalty all of you had forged over the years. He’d kissed your forehead then, and Remus had come over, all dolled up in a tux too, to do the same. They held hands, unashamed and you were proud as you called your husband over to meet the man you loved and the man he loves. It was funny then, it really was.
“What a prat,” You hiccuped, reaching across your papers for where you knew your wand would be.
“Expecto Patronum.” You opened your eyes to see your patronus. Just as you had suspected. When you had first learned it, the same as Sirius, your strong relationship had manifested in your patronus being a dog, your animagus form. After breaking up, your patronus had also changed to encompass your true nature, now becoming a small, powerful bat.
There was no bat.
Your dog had returned, sitting in the air, waiting for your command.
“Find Remus… Tell him I’m coming,” You whispered softly, watching the dog nod and turn into a silver whisp, vanishing in a dash. He’d be waiting. He’d know. The two of you had lost so many already. So many friends. You sit up and wipe at your face with shaking hands, reaching for the bottle of Jack. Taking a large gulp, you let it burn it’s way down your throat before chasing it down with the blood, licking at your red rimmed lips.
You leave a note for your husband that you’ve gone to visit a dear friend. Remus needed you now more than ever. Finding him is easy once your patronus dissipates, and you make it through his protective charms with ease, because charms are what you specialize in, after all. And there you find him, curled up in his grief, so much pain that it’s in the air. Losing a true bond is deadly to muggles. Those of magical ancestry suffer the pain, but do not die. You weren’t sure which was better, watching Remus sob into his hands at being unable to save him. You wish you had been there, you could have helped, prevented this loss. You were well known in your power. Why hadn’t you been there?
He embraces you as if not a day has gone by. And you embrace him the same way, wrapping yourself up in his pain. You hurt together. It is grounding, and he understands why your dog is back. A love like that never just goes away.
And times grow tougher. You allow the Order to use your mansion as a safe haven whenever they need it, take part in as many meetings as you can while keeping up pretenses. You know many bad people from your house, many supremacist pure-blood families that do work with the dark lord. And it’s easy to turn their names in slyly. No one suspects you, a rich vampire witch. No one would dare for fear of your coven destroying them.
Tonks is nice, with her hair changing and hope still in her eyes every time she looks at Remus. You don’t know if he has her tattoo, but it doesn’t even matter. It doesn’t sully Sirius’ name, to be happy, the same way you found your own happiness. You give them your blessing. You fight alongside them at that battle, your legion of vampires following after you against the werewolves they despise.
Victory is sweet. Victory is also bitter.
A Bond is never wrong. You’d learned that later, after coming to terms with Sirius’ death, and then Remus and Tonks after, surrounded by your children and grandchildren, even volunteering to watch over Teddy whenever need be. You’d go on to learn that your bond to Sirius had been real, had been necessary, for the both of you, but it was not what Sirius would need later. He would need the toughness of Remus to truly live, to be free.
And you could never hate him for that.