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Chapter Text

Sirius has always known his parents hate each other. It's kind of obvious when they can't be in the same room for more than ten minutes before they start trying to kill each other. It's a fact of life - the sky is blue, the grass is green, and never mention one parent to the other unless you want the parlour to explode. Luckily, his parents don't spend all that much time with their children either, so it's a minefield he rarely has to navigate. 

He and Regulus live in the nursery, with Kreacher to look after them. They see Mother and Father for formal dinners a few times a week, and Father comes to the nursery occasionally to check that Kreacher is keeping them in appropriate conditions for his heirs. Mother pulls them out of the nursery every few days for lessons. 

But otherwise, it's just him, Regulus and Kreacher. In later years, Sirius looks back and realises it is because his mother never wanted children in the first place. She's a Cursebreaker and a society ornament, and somewhere far behind that she is a wife and mother. It still doesn't make him feel anymore generous towards her. 

Sometimes, Bella, Cissa and Andie come over to play. That's fun, because by the time Sirius is three, Bella is at Hogwarts and knows all kinds of interesting things. All of the girls are older than him and Regulus, so they are cuddled and doted on like dolls. Father dislikes it the only time he comes into the nursery while the girls are visiting - says it's unbefitting of the status of his sons. (They do it anyway. It's not like Father will ever know.)

It isn't a bad life, really. Sirius and Regulus have everything their hearts could desire the moment they voice it to Kreacher. Blacks, after all, are Noble and Most Ancient, so they deserve the best and they have the best. Even the girls don't have as many or as expensive toys as Sirius and Regulus do. They see their parents more often though, which seems to cancel it out a bit. 

Druella even hugs her daughters sometimes. That's a strange thing the first time Sirius sees it. He thinks she's trying to kill Cissa for a moment, before he realises that Cissa is hugging back. He's even more thrown the first time he sees Druella and Cygnus kiss. 

But then, Cygnus had never been the heir of anything at all. He had chosen to marry Druella, and neither Walburga nor Orion had ever wanted to marry each other, which is why they hadn't married or had children until well into their thirties. Perhaps it isn't so surprising after all to Sirius when he learns about Father's other family. 

He's five when the first bastard appears on the tapestry. He and Regulus can hear Mother screaming from two floors away. It's the first time they hear of Judith Donovan, Father's 'half-breed little whore' as Mother calls her.

They have never met Judith, but after that it's difficult to avoid her spectre. Whenever Father doesn't sleep at Grimmauld, which is often, they all know he's with Judith and their children. Mother hates the mere thought of her, even though she's told Sirius and Regulus more than once that she hasn't let Father touch her since Regulus was born. Sirius is too young to understand why she cares where the husband she hates sleeps. 

Sirius had asked his father about Judith once, when he happened to be in the library at the same time as him, because he was burningly curious about the woman his mother hated so much. Father had looked stern and forbidding, but it was the first time he had ever met Sirius's eyes square on. "She is perfect." He had said, coldly as he ever spoke to his firstborn, but a little less brusquely. "This whole family is rotten to the core, but Judith is purer than that. Do not pollute her name by speaking it in this cursed house."

And that had been that. Even he had never brought it up again to Father - and he'd known better than to so much as think about Judith around Mother. Occasionally, he and Regulus wonder about her, this woman who's spectre hangs over their lives, but only ever in the dead of night when even Kreacher is fast asleep. 

Adhara's the first of four born while he's still living in Grimmauld Place. Ursa is two years younger than her, and then the twins Arcturus and Antares appear a year before he leaves for school for the first time. Each child is born as a Donovan, but between the star names and their appearance on the tapestry, Mother is ready to kill each time anyway. 

When he's Sorted Gryffindor, he's not even surprised at the Howler he recieves from Mother. It's much nicer than she's ever been to Father about Judith. She'd cursed several Howlers after Ursa's birth, and the one he receives is not even hexed. 

Hogwarts is like a breath of fresh air after his home life. For the first time, Sirius can run and shout and laugh without the frozen disapproval of his parents. He dutifully writes to Regulus every two weeks, but aside from that he can just...live. 

He's never been just Sirius before. James teaches him how to be just Sirius, to play in the sun and prank people and cram enough life into a single day to last most people a lifetime. He can even forget about Judith and the bastards who keep popping up on the tapestry, as he never can when he has to eat silent, formal suppers right under the tapestry, with Mother switching her glare between her sons, her husband, and the rogue branch of the tree. 

Meals are enjoyable now, fun. They can chatter while they eat, and unless they're actively hexing other students the teachers won't care what they do. The first time he laughs with his mouth open, he freezes, but no one even blinks. 

Grimmauld Place that first summer is worse than ever, because he knows how much better it can be. Also because Lyra Donovan appears on the tapestry at the start of August which puts a damper on everyone's moods for the rest of the summer. Father doesn't even come home for most of the holidays. 

When he gets on the Hogwarts Express that September, he makes a resolution that he will not let his family touch his time at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is his, no one else in his family has ever set foot in Gryffindor tower, and he's keeping it that way. At school, he is Sirius, not Sirius Black son of Orion and Walburga. 

By the time he's fourteen, he's Padfoot, part of the Marauders. That is his family, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. They are closer to him than anyone in the world. He loves them more than anyone in the world, even Regulus who's gone and fallen in with the stupid Slytherins who think Lord Voldemort is the best thing since Merlin. 

Marlene is the only other person who comes close. Marlene's a McKinnon, pureblooded, but the sort that would make his mother's eyes pop out of her head. 

Not that any of that matters. 

What matters is that Marlene is everything right with the world, and somehow she still said yes when he got up the balls to ask her to Hogsmeade last year. 

He hasn't thought of Judith for years, or even his father. It probably helps that any bastards born in the intervening years have appeared during term time when neither he nor Regulus are around to notice the fallout. He hasn't spoken to his father for two years either. 

Sirius has outgrown all of that. He's Padfoot now, of the Marauders. They play pranks, they laugh, they plot to finally get Prongs and Evans together, they are daring, noble Gryffindors and his life is perfect. Everything is perfect. 

Until it isn't.

In his fifth year, one of the new Gryffindor girls is Donovan, Adhara. 

She's a tiny thing, with big brown eyes and masses of golden-brown waves. She doesn't look much like him at all, except for maybe the line of her jaw, or the eyebrows half hidden under her hair. He supposes she looks like her mother more than their shared father, and an image forms in his head of a soft, pretty woman. Warm colouring, and soft curves, nothing like his mother. Gentle. 

He could see why the novelty of someone soft and warm would attract a man like his father. It's nothing like anything in that world at all. Nothing like his mother. Nothing like Sirius and Regulus. Nothing like any of them. 

He looks in the mirror that night for a long time, until he can't recognise his face at all. Prongs teases him for being vain, and Sirius tries to laugh and turns away from the mirror instead of smashing it. His face is pale, jet black hair, grey eyes, sharp angles. High, dark eyebrows. Everything about him is sharp and cold. Nothing like the bastard sleeping a few floors away from him. Nothing like the woman his father has kept as a mistress for more than a decade. 

Is that why?

He watches Adhara from afar that term. Watches as she makes friends with Amelie Leroux, and the two huddle together to whisper and giggle over their porridge in the morning. She smiles like Sirius himself does, but it sets dimples into her soft little cheeks and her little eyes twinkle instead of sparking. 

She's so very soft. So tiny. Sweet. He wonders what their father saw the first time he set eyes on her mother. Wonders when it even was, for all that he knows is what's on the tapestry - none of them even knew Judith existed until Adhara showed up on it. Father never talked. He wonders how they met. What it was about Judith that drew Father to her, of all the women in magical Britain, and kept him there. 

When it's his night with the Map, he sometimes spends hours just staring at the little spot in the firstie girl's dorm labelled Adhara Donovan, just wondering. 

Regulus hates her, he knows. Sometimes he'll look across to the Slytherin table and see his brother glaring at the girl, the same dark look on his face that Mother wears whenever she sees the bastards on the tapestry. Sirius wonders if he hates her too. He isn't sure. 

It's October when he finally works up the courage to talk to her. A Tuesday evening, in the Gryffindor Common Room. He's sitting with Prongs by the fire when Adhara and Amelie come in through the portrait hole. Adhara's eyes are wide, glimmering with unshed tears, and she's cradling one hand close to her. Amelie's arms are wrapped around her. 

There's something in the way her little head is held high despite it all, the straight line of her shoulders. He recognises that look. 

"Hey kid." He says, almost before he realises it, slipping out of his chair to come and kneel beside her. "What happened?"

Adhara's glassy eyes fix on him, and she flings herself at him, tiny arms coming around him. He hasn't thought this far ahead. She's soft, tiny, her frame shaking a little as she hides her face in his shoulder. He knows there will be a wet spot when she pulls her face away, but he doesn't mind. There have been much worse things on his robes than a bit of salt water. 

This is familiar, he realises. She's smaller than Reggie ever was compared to him, but he knows how to do this. His arms come up around her, and he rocks backwards and forwards on his heels. "You're okay." He whispers automatically. "It's gonna be okay. I'll make it alright." 

Her body burrows closer into his, little hiccuping sounds coming from her throat. He doesn't know much more about her than her name, but holding her while she cries is so much like holding Reggie used to be. Padfoot's throat feels tight as he strokes her hair, murmuring comforts he had hardly realised he remembered. 

"You're good at this." Observes little Amelie, folding her arms. 

Sirius swallows a couple of times before he can make anything come out of his mouth. "I have a little brother." Is all he can manage. The little girl looks at him thoughtfully, unblinking. 

"Regulus Black made a book snap shut on her hand and called her a half-breed bastard." Amelie says. She resumes staring unblinkingly at Sirius. 

Sirius looks down at the little arms around his neck. He can't see her hand from here, it's somewhere hidden under his hair. "Oh." He says, thinking of holding Regulus like this when his brother was smaller still, and his arms tighten a little around Adhara. "You tell me if he comes near you again, and I'll sort it, okay kid?"

"Okay." Comes a tiny murmur that he only just hears because it's so near his ear. The arms about his neck tighten ever so slightly. His knees are starting to ache from kneeling on the cold stone floor, but he can't make himself stand up. 

So he stays there until Adhara stops crying, and dashes the tears away from her blotchy, red face with her uninjured hand. He isn't a Healer, but between Moony's furry little problem and Wormtail's inability to learn a spell without at least a couple of explosions and Prongs and his own...existence, he's learned a few things. 

Her hand isn't red anymore at least, and she opens and closes it easily when he prompts her to. "Thanks." She says, smiling shyly at him. "You're nice. Sorry for crying all over you." 

"S'fine." Sirius shrugs with one shoulder. "Tell me if you need anything, yeah? I'll beat the stuffing out of anyone who gives you crap."

That gets him a little smile before she and Amelie are scurrying upstairs together. She's so small, Sirius thinks, sitting back on his heels. Tiny. Her fingers are so delicate, like little twigs. He imagines their thick textbooks snapping shut on those tiny fingers and shudders. 

Sure, he doesn't like that he never saw his father for more than ten minutes at a time because he was too busy playing house with his mistress, and the less said about their mother's more involved parenting the better. He gets hating everyone and everything. But he wouldn't have done something like that to a first year. 

If he took that shit out on anyone, it would be their father, not Adhara who is tiny and sweet and probably has never hurt so much as a fly in her life. It's something their mother would do, and Sirius has spent his whole life resolving to be nothing like either parent. 

"You okay, Padfoot?" Prongs's voice appears in his ear. 

Padfoot blinks a couple of times. "Yeah." He says at last. "But I think we need to arrange something special for Reggie and his pals. A lesson."

"Is the lesson, 'touching our firsties with your slimy claws is not allowed'?" Prongs asks. "Because we can do that right now if you want."

So the Marauders slip out of the portrait. They find Regulus walking calmly past the kitchens with Avery and Rosier, laughing about something. Regulus stops when he sees Sirius. 

"Did the bastard really have the audacity to go crying to you?" He asks, his nose wrinkling like their mother's does whenever the thought of Judith and her children crosses her mind. 

Sirius doesn't reply, thinking about how fragile her tiny form felt in his arms. Her little fingers. 

"I didn't even do any harm." Regulus says. "Just reminding her of her place. Don't want her thinking she's as good as a legitimate child after all, do we?"

"She's just a kid." He gets out. 

"So were we." Regulus snaps, eyes blazing. "Did you ever see anyone caring about that? She should count herself lucky she's been safe for this long." 

There isn't much talking after that, but Sirius thinks the lesson has gotten across. He still isn't sure whether or not he likes his father's bastard daughter - but he sure as hell isn't going to let anyone, even his own brother, bully an innocent child. 

Chapter Text

After that, it's like a dam breaks. Adhara keeps coming to him with things, little things really. She can't find a book for her Charms essay. Her quill broke. She's struggling with the knot of her tie. Can he show her where this portrait is. Can he do her hair. Can he help her with this spell. Can she have a hug.

"She's so cute." Marlene says one day, after he's finally shaken the kid off and turned back to her where they were interrupted in the middle of snogging in the good armchair by the fire. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. "She's getting annoying." They'd been on a roll, a good one, and Adhara had interrupted them because she'd gotten a paper cut. He'd had to Episkey it and kiss it better and then she'd needed a hug for good measure. 

She elbows him, sitting back on his lap. "Well I think seeing you look after your little sister-"

"Not my sister.'' He says out of habit. (She isn't. Regulus is his brother (even if he's turning into a right prick), Adhara is just the daughter of his father's mistress.)

"Your little sister," Marlene repeats, "is very attractive. You're good with her, and being good with children is something every woman thinks is attractive in a man."

She pulls him down into a kiss by his tie before he can argue anymore. Maybe she's right, Sirius muses as he sinks into the kiss, Marlene usually is. It's not as if he does the same for every firstie in Gryffindor Tower. He doesn't even do the same for her friend. 

The next time Adhara comes to him complaining that she doesn't understand Slughorn's homework, he wraps an arm about her shoulders as he works through the properties of aconite with her. Her little head slowly droops onto his shoulder as he talks, and by the time he's gotten onto the issue of names, she's snoring softly. 

It feels nice. He and Regulus have been growing apart since they were Sorted differently, but he still remembers what it felt like to have his little brother fall asleep on him. 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Love you, kid." He whispers. No one hears him, not even Adhara herself, the Gryffindor Common Room is too loud for that, but it feels good to say it. Because he does. She's tiny and sweet and so very fragile that he's afraid someone will break her looking at her wrong, and he's never had a sister before but he loves this little kid that's been dumped onto his lap by fate. 

His resolve is sorely tested a week later. Adhara's birthday is two days after his. Mother had sent him a cold note and a pair of cufflinks, Father had sent another note and some money. (His friends had given him sweets and pin badges and prank items. Marlene had given him a kiss and  a book of curses he'd been after for months.)

Adhara recieves so many presents, wrapped in the enchanted paper Father always told them was tacky, that it takes four owls to deliver it all. 

Across the hall, Regulus looks as if he's trying to set Adhara's mountain of presents on fire with his eyes alone. Neither of them have ever gotten near as much from their parents on birthdays. Just impersonal things, like the cufflinks Mother sent him this year. 

They're good presents too, not just jewellry or dolls, but pretty quills and dress robes in the colours she likes, and books she's told Sirius she's looking for. Their father took time on this, instead of just throwing money at it the way he does with his sons. He knows what Adhara likes and dislikes, and more than that, he cares. 

Sirius wonders if it's because she's a girl, or because she's warm and soft and sweet like Judith. He wagers it's the latter. That his half-brothers are spoiled and cossetted in the same way as Judith.

There's a part of him that wants to crush the gift he'd made for her. It's a snowglobe, like Muggles have, with two tiny figures inside of it - a boy and a girl in Gryffindor colours. When it's shaken, they chase each other over the lake in the flurries of snow. 

It had taken him weeks, and he'd had to get Professor Babbling to help him with the Rune matrices (she'd told him it could count as part of his NEWT coursework if he wanted). But it isn't expensive or bright like any of Father's presents. He doesn't even know if it's something she'd like. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, he plunks it down on the table in front of her. The brown paper looks very drab indeed surrounded by all of the bright, animated wrapping paper. "Happy birthday, Addie." He says, and walks away. 

(She finds him at lunchtime and hugs him so hard she knocks the breath out of him. "It's so pretty!" She says, beaming up at him like she's always been his sister.)

It isn't her fault, none of it. She didn't make Father marry Mother. She didn't make them hate each other. She didn't make Father pick Judith. She didn't make Father love her on purpose. When Regulus finds him and starts sniping at him for spoiling the bastard with presents, he duels him with relief. It gets the raging storm out of his system, just a bit. 

***********

Judith writes to him a week later. It's a Christmas card, with a picture of snow and a castle on it. She thanks him for taking such good care of her daughter, and tells him that he's welcome to visit Adhara whenever he wants in the holidays. She wishes him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. 

Sirius looks at the writing for a long time. It's rounded, scribbled, not the product of hours upon hours of painstaking penmanship practice. He imagines a woman with Addie's eyes and hair sitting at a plain kitchen table, her quill scratching these words out in between stirring a pot of soup on the stove. 

She's kind, he thinks, this woman his father loves. Awkward, writing to the son born to her lover's legal wife, but she loves her daughter enough to do it anyway. How worried had she been, he wonders, sending her child off to a school where everyone knew who's bastard she was?

He's probably given Judith a few more nights of good sleep than she would have had otherwise, if he hadn't been there to curse the little tossers who think that Orion Black's bastard is an easy target. That's a strange thought indeed. He doesn't think his own mother has lost so much as a minute's sleep over anything hurting her sons. 

Addie tackles him in a flying hug when she leaves for the Christmas hols, and he waves her off feeling so very fond. She's a good kid, he thinks. She deserves the world. 

Regulus is staying at school over Christmas as well. They avoid each other as best they can in the empty castle. Get into duels whenever their paths do cross. Between them, they probably lose more than a hundred points apiece for their respective houses over those two and a half weeks. They can't help it. Like their parents, putting them in the same room is just asking for something to break. 

It's a relief when the holidays end. The Marauders return, bringing laughter and fun and about fifty ideas for pranks. Marlene greets him with a kiss and a shocked gasp at how many points he's lost. Addie hugs him again, like she's actually pleased to see him. 

She has a box full of mince pies with her. "It's from us." She says, shy again. "Mummy and me and Ursa and Arcturus and Antares and Lyra and Cetus. Perseus as well, but he's too little to help so he just sat there. We wanted to say thank you for being so nice."

They're the best mince pies he's ever had. Okay, they're a little too sweet, kind of wonky, and some of the edges are burned. But they taste like warmth and laughter and something so very precious that he can't name. 

He gives the other Marauders one each, gives Marlene two because he loves her, and eats the rest himself. It's the nicest gift anyone has ever given him. He keeps the box, a little tin with The Best Big Brother written on top in Everlasting Ink, beside his bed for the rest of the year no matter how much the other Marauders tease him. 

He even writes to Judith, because it had been beaten into him that one must always write a thank you note for a gift. 

Dear Ms. Donovan, he writes, chewing the end of his quill in thought because none of his etiquette letters ever covered writing to your father's mistress. 

Thank you very much for the mince pies. They were delicious and I enjoyed them very much. 

Don't worry about Addie, I'll keep her safer than Gringotts, I promise. And happy. She'll be fine. 

Yours faithfully, 

Sirius Black

It's not his best work. But hey, he'd like to see someone else write a perfect letter in that kind of situation. 

Judith replies a few days later. 

Dear Sirius, she writes, in her scruffy, hasty hand. 

I'm glad you liked the mince pies. The children are all very happy to hear that their gift was well recieved. 

If you are anything like your father, I know my daughter will be the most well looked after child in all of Hogwarts. Thank you for taking such good care of her.

Once again, if you ever feel the urge during the holidays, please drop in. Adhara would be very happy to see you. 

All the best, 

Judith Donovan

There are some illegible scribbles below her signature that he assumes are from Addie's younger siblings. He can just about make out some names. A hand print. Some neater, polite greetings he assumes are from Ursa and the twins. 

That's the extent of their correspondence, much to his relief. He doesn't dislike Judith or her children, but it's...weird. He loves Addie. He does. But sometimes it does feel like, well, no use dithering about it. 

He throws himself into the rest of the year. Studying, pranking, finding places to make out with Marlene and planning dates for them.

Addie's a great help at date planning actually. As long as he doesn't think about the fact that she's probably taking inspiration from their father and her mother, it's great. Marlene is very appreciative of the fact that he's really, properly trying to be a good boyfriend. 

Being a good brother and student is probably helped by the fact that, since Evans roundly sent Snivellus packing after OWLs, the slimy greaseball hasn't so much as come near the Marauders. So he can focus on Addie and Marlene and his friends. 

He does slightly regret it in late May when Prongs comes tearing into his dorm, announcing that Evans just asked him to Hogsmeade, and promptly faints. Prongs is walking on air for the rest of the year and it's a nightmare, he hardly speaks unless Evans is near him. 

He, Moony and Wormtail take great glee in making fun of the pair. Wormtail and Alice broke up after two dates, Moony and Dorcas have been on and off (mostly off because of Moony's furry little problem and resulting martyr complex) since third year, and Padfoot still can't believe that he got Marlene McKinnon herself to give him a second glance. They're experienced, unlike Prongs, and take great glee in giving him bogus advice. 

It's a good year, he thinks. Sixth year isn't nearly as hard as people make it out to be. He has time to laze in the sun with his girlfriend and plan pranks with his friends and stalk his best friend's date in Hogsmeade and hover over his little sister like she's made of glass. (The first time she's annoyed enough at his hovering to snap at him, he nearly cries. She sounds like Regulus did when he first started Hogwarts.)

When Addie finishes fifth in her year that summer, and the top Gryffindor firstie, he's so proud of her. 

Chapter Text

Mother kicks him out that summer. Regulus had tattled to her about Marlene and Addie, and she'd flown into a temper, burned him off the tapestry and thrown him out of the house before he'd had time to unpack. 

Well, he thinks to himself, sitting on the bench opposite his childhood house, it's not as if this wasn't coming. He is dating a blood traitor and looking after his half-sister - she doesn't even know he exchanged letters with Father's mistress, that would have made her apoplectic. At least he has his trunk with all his stuff in it. And his wand. 

He doesn't bother waiting around. It's not as if anything is going to change whenever Father gets around to coming home - Father might take any excuse to get into a fight with Mother, but he won't give enough of a fuck about Sirius to drag him back home. 

Sirius sticks his wand hand out, and does his best not to recoil at the loud bang from the Knight Bus. It's...very orange. Was it that orange last time he got on it? It might have been green, he muses, it seems to change colour from time to time. 

"Where to?" The conductor asks. 

Padfoot doesn't even hesitate. "Godric's Hollow, please." He's been to the Potter's holiday house half a dozen times before, and they've always welcomed him in. At the least, James's parents will let him crash until he's worked something else out. Maybe Uncle Alphard will take him in or something. 

He doesn't have to worry, as it turns out. Charlus hustles him inside and Dorea is already screaming through the Floo at Mother, and Prongs shows him up to a new room that wasn't there last time he visited the Potters. 

"This is yours." Prongs tells him cheerfully. "Mum and Dad had it added on after you visited over Christmas in second year."

It's a very nice room. Warm. Homey. There's a bunch of things on the shelves already, and the bed is made up with sheets that have black dogs embroidered on them. He had wondered if Prongs had told his parents about Moony's furry little problem or not. 

He sits down on the floor and cries into his best friend's shoulder for a long time while Charlus pats him on the back. 

Dorea comes in as he's putting his books on the shelves. "I spoke to Walburga." She says calmly, as if screaming through the Floo for forty minutes is just a nice little chat. "She's agreed to give custody of you to Charlus and I, if you'd like to stay with us?"

She's tall, his best friend's mum. A distant cousin of some kind, with the dark hair and grey eyes to prove it. But she has smile lines about her eyes, and a spray of freckles over her nose, and while she's got a terrifying temper it has never been turned on him. 

"I'd love to." He replies, and when she opens her arms he hesitantly goes into the offered hug. She's as tall and angular as his mother, but there's something warm about her all the same. She makes him feel like he's safe, like all those sharp angles will cut anything aiming for him to tiny pieces. 

He ends up crying into her shoulder for another forty minutes after that.

*******************

Eight days later, he writes to Judith Donovan again. His father had done fuck all about the whole mess until Dorea had yelled him into reinstating Sirius, but spiting him isn't why Sirius is writing. 

His mother's already kicked him out, he lost Regulus a long time ago, and he never had Father in the first place. He has Dorea and Charlus and the Marauders, he supposes, but it's not the same. The only close family he really has now is Addie, and he doesn't have anything to lose by seeing her. 

Dear Ms. Donovan, he writes. 

I hope that this finds you well. In January, you told me that I could visit Addie in the holidays. I didn't reply because I figured my mother would never let me visit. 

She isn't in charge of me anymore. My new guardians are my best mate's parents, Mr and Mrs Potter, and they don't mind who I talk to. They aren't the type of people Mother approves of, so as you're probably aware that means they're good people. 

Anyway, I'm sorry for rambling. I'm writing to ask if the invitation is still open. It would be good to see Addie in summer as well as just term time. If not, of course, I get it, it's totally fine. 

Yours sincerely faithfully sinc f sincerely, 

Sirius Black

Judith writes back within the next morning, telling him that she's glad he's somewhere safer, and that the invitation is most definitely still open, so why doesn't he come round for lunch tomorrow. He looks down at the note for a long time. 

It feels weird. Technically he's writing to his sister's mother, which should make her...something. His stepmother? It feels like he's writing to a friend's mother, even though Addie is so much more than a friend. 

He wonders if his father will be there tomorrow. He hopes not. He doesn't want to see Orion or Walburga or Regulus (well, maybe not Regulus) again for as long as he lives. 

Dorea helps him to pick some flowers to give to Judith, seeing as he figures he should probably suck up as much as possible. Judith sounds kind, but he's still the son of her lover's wife. It's going to be very awkward. It's still worth it to see Addie. 

It's only been nine days, but he misses his baby sister. He wonders how she's doing. Wakes up in the middle of the night, terrified that something's happened to her. He's too used to keeping an eye on her at all hours of the day now. 

Also, he can't think of a better way to stick it to his mother. Or Regulus. Little snitch. 

So he takes Dorea's arm and lets her Apparate him to Addie's home, because apparently his new guardian wants to make sure she's happy leaving him alone with them, even though he's sixteen already. 

The cottage Addie's mother and siblings live in is in a tiny little magical village halfway to nowhere. It's a pretty place, like something out of a fairytale, and Sirius tries very hard not to compare it to the grim London streets he remembers from his childhood.

 It is much smaller than Grimmauld Place, but it looks nicer. There are flowers in the front yard, the roof is thatched with flowers growing from the thatch, and the wooden door is flung open by Addie. She throws herself at Sirius, and something settles in his chest as he puts his arms about his little sister. 

She's alright. She's beaming at him, rosy cheeked with health and positively glowing. He hides his face in the fluff of hair at the top of her head for a minute. Thank everything out there that she's okay. 

He can hear a faint hum of voices, probably Dorea and Judith, and ignores them in favour of holding his baby sister. 

"You must be Sirius." Says the unfamiliar voice after a minute. He reluctantly takes his face out of his sister's curls. The speaker is a pretty woman, somewhat younger than he had thought she would be, with slightly lighter hair than Addie, and the same eyes. She has the same sweet smile as well. "It's lovely to finally meet you."

"And you, ma'am." He responds automatically, shaking her hand. He's taller than her, he realises. She's soft and rounded and autumn coloured, and she smells like baking bread. She's wearing simple russet-coloured robes, without any jewellry, not at all like he'd thought his father's mistress would dress. She doesn't look like a mistress at all, not like he'd imagined. She looks like a mother. Like someone who means home. 

Dorea seems to like her, because she dips her head to Judith sharply and spins on her heel, Disapparating with a loud crack. Judith leads him inside the cottage, where he is assaulted by a positive tidal wave of children. They are all shouting his name, clearly excited to see him. 

He...isn't so sure. It took him over a month to even talk to Addie, and that was before his parents kicked him out. Now, he looks at these children and he just, that wistful, jealous clenching of his heart is so much stronger. 

But before he can snap out something he'll probably regret, overwhelmed by the horde of tiny children, Addie takes over. "Shut up!" She calls. "I met him first, so I'll introduce him." 

She's an oldest too, he realises. He always thinks of her as his baby sister, but she's entirely at ease bossing these kids around. It's strange to see her as the eldest, the protector and leader, instead of a tiny thing he needs to protect. 

"This is Ursa." Addie says, leading him to a gangly child with dark brown hair and eyes too big for her head. "Arcturus and Antares." Two little boys, with the exact same golden-brown hair and grey eyes. "Lyra." Black hair, and soft brown eyes, and dimples. "Cetus." A roly-poly toddler with a fluff of brown hair and grey eyes. "And this is Perseus." A baby is dumped into his arms, a little bundle of rosy cheeks and blue eyes and a tuft of golden-brown hair. 

For a minute, he and the baby just look at each other silently, before Perseus's face splits into a giant, gummy smile, and he reaches out both hand towards Sirius. He babbles something indistinct, and his little fist nearly smacks Sirius in the mouth. 

He's adorable, Sirius thinks. And then looks at the other kids. They take after Judith more than his father as a rule, and that's probably good. Blacks have devastating good looks, admittedly, but there's something much nicer about Judith's looks. They're gentler. Sweeter. 

Probably still little hellions though. 

Someone tugs on his robes. He looks down into soft brown eyes and smiles. Lyra's dimples deepen as she smiles back.

"Is it true Daddy's wife kicked you out?" She asks. "You could stay with us."

Daddy. Not Father. Daddy. Sirius swallows painfully, bouncing Perseus as the waving hands nearly get into his eye. "Thanks for the offer sweetheart," he manages, "but I've already got a new home. Do you want to show me round yours?"

That, thankfully, distracts all five of them (not counting Addie and the baby) sufficiently that he doesn't get peppered with anymore questions about his mother disowning him. It's not that he wants to defend her to these kids, he hates her guts, but he still doesn't want to talk about it. 

The cottage is nice. Homey in a way that Grimmauld Place never managed to be. Addie, Ursa and Lyra share a room, the twins share a room, and Cetus and Perseus are still young enough to be kept in a nursery just off the master bedroom. 

He's never shared a room before, not when there was a whole manor for just four people and a couple of elves. It looks nice. Like the Hogwarts dorms where there's always someone to talk to if you wake up in the middle of the night, and you don't have to sneak around if you want a midnight feast. 

The beds are little things, not the giant four posters he and Regulus slept in. All the bedrooms are different. The girls' room has different colours on every wall and a meadow of different coloured flowers embroidered on the curtains, and the shelves are stuffed with books and trinkets. The twins' room is split in two, one side a riot of colours and one monochrome enough that he takes a discreet glance down at his robes to check that they are still blue. Even the nursery is sweet, with clouds enchanted to sail across the pale blue roof and little animals on the walls. 

He thinks about the rooms he grew up in, much bigger than this. Grander, more opulent, colder. No sharing allowed. 

He doesn't think about the two nightstands in the master bedroom, or the two wardrobes, or the two sets of slippers, or...

That was never the case in Grimmauld Place. His parents slept on different floors of the house, when they were both there at the same time. He knows Dorea and Charlus share a room. He'd thought that was just them. 

He's quiet when they troop down to the kitchen for lunch. It's a beautiful room, with terracotta tiles on the floor and sunlight yellow curtains at the windows and copper pots polished until they send the sun bouncing across the room. 

Judith sits at the table with them, with Perseus on her lap and Cetus on her left where she can wipe his mouth and freeze any food being flung about. Her presence doesn't make her children quiet and polite. She actually talks to them, and to Sirius. 

He makes conversation as best he can. Tells her about his lessons, and Marlene, and his friends. It's like talking to Dorea, only Judith is half her height and about a tenth as intimidating. 

After lunch, the children drag him into the living room, a cozy little place with books lining the walls above the soft-looking couches and childish drawings tacked onto the free wall-space. 

When Dorea returns at five to take him back to Godric's Hollow, he pauses on the doorstep. "Thank you for having me, Judith." He says. 

She beams at him, and wraps him in a hug. It's a little awkward, because he's a head taller than her so he has to bend uncomfortably to tuck his face into her shoulder. He has to though, to hide his eyes until he can blink the sudden tears away. 

"Come again any time." Judith tells him, pulling away and smiling the same sweet smile as her daughter up into his face. "You're always welcome, Sirius." 

He hugs his way through all of his half-siblings twice before Dorea manages to pull him away. 

"You had a good time, then?" She asks once they've landed in Godric's Hollow. 

Sirius nods, unable to stop the smile quirking up at the corners of his lips. He went from one brother to one sister to seven brothers and sisters. It's a lot. He already knows he loves them. 

Chapter Text

He visits again as often as he can. He's missed a lot of time with his new siblings, so he has to do his best to catch up. 

He brings presents when he can, little things, mostly little animals he makes of wood or fabric or paper and animated with runes. His half-siblings love them way more than a few bits of random materials deserve. 

After the third visit in four days, Judith keys him into the wards, gets him a Portkey, and tells him he can come over whenever he wants. When he protests, she fixes him with a look. "You are my children's elder brother." She tells him. "I won't ask you to call this your home when I know you have one with the Potters, but I want you to be comfortable in the home of your brothers and sisters." 

In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised when a visit finally coincided with one of his father's. He knew that Orion spent more time with Judith than with his wife, and he knew that he often stayed the night. 

He knew that Orion was out of the country on business, because every now and then Judith remarked on a letter she'd recieved, or a present would arrive for one of the children. 

So it really shouldn't have shocked him when he breezed into the kitchen late one Saturday morning a month after his first visit, with the twins hanging from his arms and Ursa cackling on his back and Lyra's clever fingers busy in his pocket (he'd made a gingham monkey this time), to find Orion Black sitting at the table. 

Sirius freezes. He hasn't actually seen his father for more than a year, he realises, counting back in his head. The last time they were in the same room was results day after his OWLs. 

Lyra's fingers find the little gingham monkey, and she dances out of the kitchen with her prize, followed by Arcturus who's screeching for a turn with it. It's enchanted to climb in their hair, which had seemed like an excellent harmless prank when he'd carved the runes. Now, faced with Orion, it doesn't seem like such a good idea. 

He's wearing a band t-shirt of Remus's that had ended up in his trunk when they'd been packing up the dorm, and his casual robes are unbuttoned enough that he knows his father can see the Queen logo. He wishes briefly that his robes were long enough to cover his ratty Muggle-style trainers. 

Ursa, bless her, senses the tension and drags Antares out of the kitchen by the scruff of his neck despite all of his protests. Sirius hopes desperately that she's gone to fetch Judith. (When did Judith become a figure that comforted him.)

Orion is still frozen at the table, his perfect, pressed robes strange in the soft, warm kitchen Judith keeps. His hair is immaculate as always, a few silver strands showing at the temple that weren't there last time Sirius saw him. 

Sirius shoves his hands in his robe pockets. "Father." He says shortly. 

The silence hangs a moment longer, until Orion finally draws a breath. He stands from the table, and Sirius realises with a start that they are the same height now. He's resting his fingertips on the table. Sirius recognises that stance. He uses to stand like that during fights with Mother. 

"Sirius." His father replies, without a single inflection in his cold voice. "What are you doing here?"

Inside Sirius, something clenches. He'd, well, he'd hoped that maybe his father was just like that because it was the way he was in Grimmauld Place. When he'd seen him, he'd hoped, just for a single wild moment, that maybe it would be different here, in this warm home that Judith had brought him into. 

"Visiting my brothers and sisters." He says, trying to match his father's chill - and keep the damned tremble out of his voice. Sirius is sixteen. He doesn't need anything from his father, and anything that he would need he knows damn well Charlus would be happy to provide. 

A frown touches Orion's forehead. His lips thin. Oh, Sirius knows that look. Regulus had that look every time he'd seen Sirius with Addie last year. Mother had that look every time a new bastard showed up on the tapestry. It is not a look that bodes well. 

"They're mine too!" Sirius says before he can be thrown out by a blood parent again. "Addie and Ursie and Turus and Tares and Lyra and Cety and Percy. I don't have Reggie anymore, but I have them. I know you don't give a flying fuck what I want, but you actually care about them and they like having me around. I looked after Addie all of last year, and she's fine. She's happy. I did that. I bring them toys and play games with them and it isn't much but please don't take me away from them. Please. Not for me, for them. They don't know what it's like to lose a sibling. They don't know loss or pain or-"

"It's alright." A soft voice interrupts him. Sirius whirls to see Judith in the doorway, arms folded. 

Orion's frown deepens. "Judith, he's-"

"Your son." Judith says. "Your son, Orion." One hand rests on Sirius's shoulder, not heavy, but reassuring. 

His father opens his mouth, but Sirius interrupts before he can say anything. "Don't." He chokes. Orion's mouth snaps shut. "I know what you're going to say. Walburga's son, right? That's the problem with me, isn't it? Because I came from Walburga." 

Orion doesn't reply. He's looking at Sirius strangely. 

Sirius laughs. It's an awful, strangled sound. There's a part of him that spares a thought to hope none of his siblings can hear this. 

"It all makes sense. Everything Walburga touches is tainted, you told me that when I was smaller than Lyra. I'm tainted." He takes in a ragged breath. "You don't want me here because you think I'll taint your precious home with her."

Judith makes a sound of distress. "Oh, Sirius, I'm sure that isn't-"

"Yes it is!" Sirius says, over Orion's 'don't you dare interrupt her'. "Oh shut up. It's not like I can fall any lower in your esteem than I did by daring to be born from the wrong woman." He chokes on something painful in his throat. "I know you hate her, I was born into the war zone you two made of your marriage. She hates me because I'm your son, and you hate me because I'm her son. It's a fucking joke."

"I don't-" Orion tries. 

"Yes you do." Sirius cuts him off. "I've known it since I was five. You hate me. You hate me and Regulus because we're Walburga's children. We used to hope, you know," he tries so hard to stop his voice trembling, fuck, not in front of Judith, not in front of him, "we used to hope that if we did everything right then you'd love us. We tried so hard. So fucking hard. But it was useless, because you were never even there to see it, because you never cared enough to try to love us at all."

A soft hand rests on his shoulder, and that, of all things is what breaks him. Not his father standing there across the table like nothing's wrong. Not the fact that all of this is bubbling up in the beautiful safe haven Judith has been kind enough to bring him into. Not even all of this spilling out from where he'd packed it all down long ago. 

It's the gentle touch that makes the tears spill over. It's so humiliating, tears rolling down his face at sixteen in front of his father and his father's mistress. Like he's a child, not a year away from being a man. 

"Why didn't you try?" He manages. "Why did you never even try to love us?"

Silence. 

Sirius laughs. He can't help it. What else is there for him to do? It's even worse than the last one, wet and sick like something bloody coughed up from his chest. "You can't even deny it." He turns to Judith. "Thanks for letting me visit. I'll wait outside to say goodbye to the others."

He pauses, just before he leaves. Looks at his father. One chance, he thinks, one last chance. Please. Something. Anything. But Orion just stares at him. He swallows hard. "I'll leave you to your family." He rasps. 

He storms through the door, through the hall, and out into the garden, slamming the front door behind him hard enough to shake the whole cottage. He sits down on the ground, beside one of the flower beds, gulping in fresh air and trying so hard not to bawl his eyes out right there in the middle of Judith's pretty garden. He doesn't know what he expected. When did Orion ever see anything but Walburga's son in him? 

"Siri?" Comes a hesitant voice. 

He looks over his shoulder to see Addie standing in the door. There are voices floating out behind her, raised voices. Something heavy and sick settles in his stomach. This is what it sounded like in Grimmauld Place. Orion was right, everything Walburga and her sons touch is tainted. He's brought Grimmauld Place to Judith's home and ruined it. 

"I'm sorry, Addie." He rasps, holding his arms out. She runs into them, tears already brimming. He holds her close. "I messed up. I've got to go, I'm sorry, but I'll see you at school, yeah?"

"No." She says. "You're my brother. You belong here." 

"It's not that simple." Sirius tells her. He opens his mouth to say something else, but then the twins are throwing themselves at his legs, and Lyra is around his neck, and Cetus is hiding his face in his side, and Ursa is bringing Perseus outside. 

Ursa's little chin is tipped up. "You're our brother.'' She says firmly. 

His brothers and sisters are so very innocent, Sirius thinks. There's a hot swell of rage in his chest when he thinks about it. Orion Black has fought so hard to make sure that they have a perfect childhood. He threatened his wife for their lives and their safety. Sirius is so very jealous of them.

"They do fight like this." Addie says gently. "But they make up after. It'll be alright, you'll see." 

Sirius can hear words floating out of the open door. He tries his hardest not to hear them. It feels like curling up in the nursery when he was a child. It feels like being small and afraid and not knowing what a kind touch feels like. It feels like nothing he ever wanted his brothers and sisters to feel. 

He presses kisses to upturned faces and heads. "It's my fault, I'm sorry. I love you all, so much, but I have to go away. It'll make things better, I promise." 

The resulting torrent of protests warms him inside a little bit. The little hands grasping at him, and the trembling lips and glistening eyes less so. He never wants these kids to cry. 

"Sirius." 

He looks up. His father is standing in the doorway, Judith hovering just behind him with her pretty face set. There is something strange in his father's face. 

"Children." Orion's voice softens, and he steps outside, just a little. "Come inside, I need to talk to your brother."

Like he and Regulus, his siblings obey at once. But they get a hair ruffle or a kiss as they pass their father. Addie stays in the doorway until Judith pulls her away and closes it. 

Sirius stands up. He isn't a child anymore. He isn't going to crick his neck looking up at his father. He stays where he is though, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Tries not to grit his teeth too hard, but has the feeling he fails miserably. 

For a long moment, he and Orion just stand there, staring at each other across Judith's pretty flower garden. But then, Orion bends a little. He walks towards Sirius, stops within arm's length of him. It's the closest they've been since Sirius was twelve.

"What do you want?" Sirius asks. His voice is steady this time, at least. "I've said goodbye. I'm going. Do you want to kick me out personally? Make sure every trace of her taint is gone?"

Silence.

"I am not doing this." Sirius tells him. "I'm not playing your games."

Still silence.

"What, are you going to stand here until I leave? Say something. Anything. I don't care what it is, just say something!" His shout echoes around the little garden, something, thing, ing, ing, ng.

Sirius scoffs, and turns to go. "Just wanted to watch me leave. Figures." 

"Wait, Sirius." Orion says sharply. Sirius turns back around. He hates it, but he's too used to instant obedience on the rare occasions he was face to face with his father. Orion licks his lips. It's the first properly human thing, Sirius has ever seen his father do. "I don't know what to say." 

Sirius shrugs. "Not like you ever said much of anything to Walburga's sons."

"Walburga's son." Orion says, thoughtfully, almost like he's tasting the words. "Yes. But do you know what Judith has been saying for ten years? Your son too, Orion. My son." There's something very strange in his face. 

"Well you haven't listened to her for the last ten years, why start now?" Sirius swallows, feeling his throat click painfully. "Look, don't draw this out. Just let me go, please."

Orion doesn't move. He is hesitating over something. 

"You do not have to go." He says at last, so quietly that Sirius thinks he hasn't said anything at all. "Judith likes you, very much. She says you are a sweet boy, that you love the children and she enjoys having you around. She wants you to stay."

"I don't want to stay if you're going to be glaring at me for tainting your precious Donovans with Walburga." Sirius snaps. 

"You are my heir." Orion says slowly. "When I die, all that I have will be yours, Sirius. There is no use barring you from a place that will one day be yours. I do not think the children would stand for it."

It is, Sirius thinks, the best he's going to get. To stay on suffrance because his half-siblings would miss him. 

"You're really something, you know that?" He tells his father, and stalks back inside.