WHO: Aurora and Sirius. WHAT: Detente? WHEN: A few days after New Year's WHERE: Diagon Alley RATING: PG
Étaín was getting worse. Aurora did not have to be a Mind Healer to know that her sister's struggle was only getting deeper as the years went by. It had started with Fabian's passing and had only bloomed as time wore on. Perhaps the Sinistras were going about this the wrong way, in not taking her to St. Mungo's, but Aurora knew that her mother would rather choke than admit Étaín was that badly off. So Aurora quietly did what she could, going to Severus to ask his assistance in the matter. Coaxing Étaín to take the potions he'd recommended after a few weeks of studying her sister was yet another chore, but one Aurora managed.
She could only pray, during the school year, that Father would keep Étaín on them. Though her father was more progressive-minded than her mother, he still disapproved of medication for what he believed was all in Étaín's head. Maybe it was. That her grief was so sustained should surely have been a sign, though, that something larger was at work. Étaín had been bright and vivacious before Fabian had died, and that indefatigable spirit of hers seemed to wear away overnight.
Surely the potions could not harm, by any means. If they helped, Aurora was willing to try anything.
They were the reason she was in Diagon Alley two days after New Year's; she needed more ingredients for a new batch, one big enough to tide Étaín over until she came back again for the Valentine weekend. Severus had offered to help her make more, she just needed to procure the last of the ingredients on the list.
Which would not have ordinarily been a problem, except that she wasn't at all in front of the apothecary. No, she was a few doors down, staring into the window display at one of the sweet shops. Her stomach was rumbling, yes, but more so than that: there was a little set of figurines in the window: a dragon, a wolf, and a wizard. This would not ordinarily have meant anything to her, but the wizard did look remarkably similar to a real life person who had been occupying her thoughts for the past few weeks, all too well for her own good.
Sirius.
Stomach tightening, Aurora turned from the window and hurried down the alley, trying to reach the apothecary as quickly as she could to get away from the topic of Sirius Black.
And ran promptly into him.
Though Sirius had fallen head over heels with being a father, he did occasionally need 'grownup time', as they'd all dubbed it. And, despite past events, he felt no fear in leaving Draco with the Potters. Lily knew to be on the alert, after all, James was a flipping Auror, and even Harry seemed much more watchful since Draco had been kidnapped almost right in front of his eyes. Besides, it was good for Draco and Harry to interact. They would be going to school together before much longer, and Sirius would feel ten times more comfortable knowing that Draco was friends with Harry and his friends rather than the types he'd been hanging around before. It wasn't as though he minded the House of Slytherin...exactly. It was the ideals that they were often taught there, not by their Head but by their fellow students. With the influence of the other children, perhaps even if he was sorted alongside generations of Malfoys and Blacks, Draco would still come out on top.
So Sirius had no problem ducking off into Diagon Alley, so long as he promised to return with a surprise or a treat. He planned to go by the shop and pick up a new book or two (though Remus was quite good at coming home with ones he thought Draco would be interested in) and perhaps a toy from the Quidditch supply store. If anyone had the gall to say Draco was spoiled, Sirius would only have to remind them of what the boy had been through.
The latest Lynch figurine was in a bag in his hand, the books had been--well, bought and paid for wasn't quite the right terminology when you co-owned the place, but they had been picked up, and Sirius should have gone on his way. But he was enjoying being out, taking in the sights and smells of wizarding London, and he was, admittedly, relishing in the alone time. As much as he loved Draco, he didn't get a chance to be away often.
When he was first careened into, Sirius was in a good mood and willing to brush it off. He touched the hurried person lightly on the arm and smiled. "Are you alr..."
And suddenly, he didn't care whether she was alright or not. He was tired of running into her, he was tired of parts of his past coming back to haunt him, and he was extremely tired of remembering that snog from Christmas Eve. All he wanted was to move on, and clearly fate wasn't going to allow him that one tiny moment of goodness.
Aurora had little sympathy for Sirius to begin with; had she heard his train of thought, she might have laughed outright. Clearly, he didn't remember the upcoming event as well as she did, and if he had forgotten - well. Perhaps for the better, anyway.
"Black," she acknowledged coolly.
Sirius had forgotten. Or, at least, he didn't let it cross his mind often. There were more important things going on in his life, and he'd thought she should be able to say the same. And he certainly couldn't pinpoint an exact date anyway. It had been several years and he didn't put much thought into it now.
"Hello," he said, just as coolly. But then, to his own surprise and probably hers, he allowed a bit of warmth into his tone. "How are you?"
Aurora did not meet his gaze at first, until the change of tone. "Fine," she stated. "The holidays are over now, at least." They'd probably been considerably warmer on his end than hers, and she wondered about that for a moment. "How ... were your holidays?"
"Better than usual," he found himself admitting, and then paused. She always did have a knack for making him say things he really wished she wouldn't. "I--take it yours wasn't exactly brilliant?"
Aurora lifted her shoulders, shrugging. "Dispatching familial obligations are not how I would choose to spend my free time," she returned. "Particularly when my sister is ill and my family chooses to act as if nothing is wrong." She stopped; flushing slightly. Sirius Black, of all people, did not care about her problems. Nor did she care about his. It was why when her eyes had slipped to the little dragon, she had forced herself to stop wondering about the Malfoy boy, how he was doing. From what she had seen Christmas Eve, he was adjusting well; Severus talked of him constantly. But Severus would never discuss Sirius' handling of the child; every recollection, every remark, was carefully absent Sirius, and that was what she was most curious about. A man like him with a sudden son. She had not personally been friends with Narcissa Malfoy, though in being close with Regulus, she had come to know the older girl as fiercely devoted to her family. For her to have chosen Sirius as his guardian, surely Narcissa had to suspect that Sirius was capable of such emotion.
And for Aurora ... well. That was most perplexing, because she had known Sirius in different facets, but not usually as a figure of caring and devotion. He could be gentle, yes, but not ... not like that. It was a most baffling addition to her already confused store of memories regarding him. Perhaps that was why she couldn't get him off her mind, even after all these years.
If Sirius had any idea where her train of thought had taken her, he'd have been floored in surprise. As far as he was concerned, she didn't give two knuts about him. She'd barely been in contact for nearly two decades, and he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to talk to her. It was just a part of their 'arrangement'.
But, cold as he could be, he wasn't going to let a comment about a sick family member slide. If anything happened to Draco or to Remus or one of the Potters, he'd be a complete wreck. "Is she going to be all right?" he questioned, instinct almost taking over as his voice was surely not going to let anything so personal out on his own doing. "Your sister, I mean?" If her family was ignoring it, one would think she'd be fine, but Sirius knew the old pureblood ways. He had a cousin on his mum's side who'd gone downright mad and her family had shut the door and let her go insane before admitting anything was wrong.
Aurora's thoughts turned back to where they ought to have been, back to Étaín. Her face darkened. "No," she said quietly. "She isn't--not now, anyway. I'm attempting to give her some help. Severus -- has been very kind."
Though Severus Snape and kind were not two words Sirius often used together, he knew the man did have the things he cared about. Draco, for one, which Sirius was grudgingly grateful for, and he'd always been good to Remus, especially with his monthly potions. A little stiffly, Sirius nodded. "He's...good for that. Medicine and the like. Might've been a good Healer." Which, for Sirius, was an incredible compliment in Snape's direction, one that James might have passed out over.
Aurora did not. A trace of something like surprise flickered over her features as she looked at Sirius. "He's attempted to find her a potion that helps. So far, the one he's chosen seems to be working," she answered, perhaps unnecessarily. "I came out to get more of the ingredients he needed for another dose, actually." She hesitated. "And you?"
"And... Oh!" He'd been so wrapped up in her story that he'd rather forgotten why he'd ventured out despite the cold. "I honestly just needed some time out of the house. It's been crowded all holiday long, and I can't even tolerate the smell of biscuits baking anymore." Which was saying something for him. He motioned to the bags in his hands. "Just a bit of shopping for Draco and some herbs for a recipe Draco's elf's been wanting to try. Merlin help us, he won't burn the house down."
"That sounds positively domestic of you," she told him, but there was no haughty air to it. Aurora let her guard slip a little at the image of Sirius running errands for a house elf. "Better that than dealing with relatives' issues. I'd even trade you the shopping and the baking biscuits."
For her efforts, Sirius gave a small smile. "I'll take my lot, thanks. Especially the shopping. Well, when it's for Draco, at least." She wasn't supposed to be this easy to talk to. Nor was he supposed to feel any sort of emotional attachment that made it so. "I've served my time with family issues. He's nearly all I've got left anyway." It was risky, saying such when he knew she'd been friends with Reg. But...well, his brother was gone. And so was the rest of the Black line, with the exception of Andromeda and Dora. And now his own little link. Maybe, in her own odd way, that's what Narcissa had been doing. Giving him a link to tie the families back together.
She'd thought about Regulus as family, yes, but she didn't take offense to that. It was simple truth at this point: there wasn't a lot of the Black line left. Only Sirius, now. "Not entirely true," she stated. "You've your friends, no?" The Potters, and Remus Lupin. Severus was unwillingly connected through his bond with Draco. Aurora did not count herself. Sleeping with someone did not make them family.
And even if sleeping with someone did make them family, Aurora hadn't been in that position in years. Which was still a thought Sirius didn't like to consider, nor did he feel like remembering it. There'd been others since, and it was easier to focus on them. "True," he replied agreeably, shifting his bags from one hand to the other. "I suppose I meant blood family along that vein. Though there's still my cousin, Andromeda, and her family." And why he was spilling his soul to her, he'd never know. "It's good, though, having so many people around. It gets Draco used to new people and things other than just the...well, the purebloods." The pureblooded elite, was what he'd really meant. The purists, the families of Death Eaters and their supporters. But she came from her own line of those, didn't she?
She did; Étaín had bridged that elitism when she'd fallen for Fabian Prewett - not that Fabian himself wasn't pureblood; he just was ... blood traitor. Fine line, but that fine line meant everything to the hard-liners, like the Sinistras and the Blacks. "Fair enough," Aurora answered, and offered a small smile. "Severus talks of him so often I feel as if I know Draco personally. He seems like a very sweet boy."
"Oh, he's brilliant, he really is!" It was as if some other being entirely had taken over Sirius' face, as his expression went from somewhat stormy to absolutely elated. The only thing Sirius liked talking about more than his godson was his own little boy. Which, for the man who once would've talked about his motorbike and called it brilliant, was saying something about maturity. "He's so smart, always listening, taking in everything you say to him. He's been so hurt and scared and to have come as far as he has is just saying something about his character, really."
And, again, he was babbling, for no other reason than he could. She'd opened the door for him, mentioning Draco. Even if Severus Snape had been the lead up.
Severus had grown more grudgingly tolerant of Sirius through Draco, though, a fact which Aurora had first been astonished by and was now beginning to understand. Sirius himself had changed. He was not the impatient man-child who had been the subject of both rant and other things which would have brought a flush to her cheeks even now. "He sounds wonderful," she replied, something delicate in the choice of her next words. "I look forward to having him at Hogwarts, then."
Inhaling sharply, Sirius held his breath for a moment. He hated the reminders that in less than two years, his little boy wouldn't be his little boy. And while it would help that James and Lily and Frank and Alice would all be going through the same things, it still bloody well hurt. Eleven was so little. And he was relatively certain his mum had never cared upon sending him away. A couple of years, she hadn't even gone with him to the train. But sometimes Draco seemed so much younger than his friends and future classmates. How was it fair, sending him away already? "I hate thinking about it," he admitted, then rushed on. "Not him in your class--though why does the Astronomy practical have to be at midnight, anyway? Just him leaving."
"Astronomy is at midnight so that students can better see the stars," she said patiently; it was a phrase she'd oft-repeated to many a worried parent, but not always in person. Without thinking, she reached out and touched his arm. "If what Severus says of him is true, if what you say is true, Draco will be well-prepared for it. I know that is small consolation for not seeing him, but ... at least you can rest easy, knowing he will be safe, sound, and more than capable. If anything, he will want to go." Probably to be a Gryffindor like his adoptive father, even if it would kill Severus to witness. But Aurora put that out of her mind.
If Sirius had known her thought, he'd have been quick to negate her ideas. He honestly didn't see Draco in Gryffindor, though perhaps two years of living with him and Remus might end up changing that. No, Draco was half-Malfoy and half-Black and each family threw out hundreds of Slytherins. Sirius, being Sirius, had of course been the exception to the rule. And Dumbledore had once told him the Hat listened to what was in your heart, not just where you blood was.
Instead of focusing on all of that, though, Sirius allowed himself a smile. "He's already talking about when he gets his wand and when he'll get to learn magic. I've even tried to cut back on doing it in front of him because he's so anxious to get his wand early." Allowing another moment of weakness, he gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "He'll be brilliant once he's there, I've no doubts of that." Probably wasn't supposed to drop ideas of his son's brilliancy into his future professor's head, but he was a proud father, in the end. "It's those of us left behind that are going to be kind of pathetic."
And Draco would be there with Severus. Likely with him as his Head of House. And Sirius would be stuck with only third-person accounts. It was almost a horrifying thought.
At least in Slytherin Draco would have a familiar adult face, though Aurora supposed the Potter eldest - Harry, was it? - was going to be at Hogwarts too. Son of two Gryffindors, he'd undoubtedly land himself in Gryffindor, too. Aurora did not much care for the thought of Draco unhappy, though it was mostly because of Severus at that point. She wanted both at once, for Draco to be where his heart desired most, and for Severus to have the boy he'd loved, too, close at his side. And she did not know if both were possible. "I would accuse you of trying to bias me," she returned, "but I have never let a parent bribe, barter, or bully me into conceding where their young are concerned." There was something impish in the grin she shot him. "Especially not you, Sirius."
"There was once a time when it wouldn't have taken much to bribe you," he answered, and then froze. What had he been thinking? It was a subject he hadn't wanted to broach with anyone, least of all her. And furthermore, he didn't mean that. Draco would do just fine without any bartering on Sirius' part. Further still, it sounded like flirting. And that was definitely not what Sirius had set out to do that morning.
That was a humiliating reminder she hadn't needed; she jerked back from him as if stung, though she tried her damndest to not change expressions. "Are you offering to exchange?" Aurora queried, her voice taking on an icy tinge beneath the flirtation.
Tone dropping considerably, Sirius shifted his eyes. "I didn't mean that. Well, not like that. I wouldn't--not now." He was ashamed of himself for even joking about that. Besides, he'd made it sound as if she'd been some sort of pet or something. Which definitely wasn't the case. He'd been putty more than once, after all.
Aurora held her breath, looking away until she figured she was calm enough to not let this turn into a fight. "Things were different, once," she acknowledged. "But we've grown up since then." Except for their snog at Christmas Eve, but she tried not to think of that. "I suppose what I'm trying to say, Sirius, is that we can ... let bygones be bygones. Yes?" She lifted her eyes, looked to him.
And despite himself, he found his breath catching when those eyes met his. He'd seen them in many scenarios and emotions and at lows and at the ultimate in highs. And yet still, they caused him to pause, watching her for a moment. "We can," he finally said, the words breathed more than spoken. "If--well, if that's what you want." Did he? He thought he did. The fighting wasn't getting them anywhere, and ignoring each other was obviously not working.
"I don't enjoy fighting you," she answered, her own voice softening. "Everything else we've done ... I make no apologies for. But we appear not to be able to see one another without fighting, and I would like to declare détente between us as a solution." Something in her face tightened and then released, as if she was letting go of a very old memory. "Consider it an anniversary gift," Aurora added, and tipped forward on her toes to kiss him on the cheek before slipping past him.
"A...wait, what?" Sirius spun on his heel to stop her, to ask what on earth she was talking about, but she'd already slipped into the crowd of Diagon Alley. As her words sank in and he began to think back, an awkward feeling spread through his stomach and chest. Warm, at first, and then ice cold. Not fighting with her was one thing. But could he get himself to stop thinking about her?