WELCOME

[sirius o. black]

AU details (read this before reading the story): Dorcas lives, has a son and comes back to help the Order. Takes place during the Christmas Holiday of Harry's fifth year.

Will be posted on Christmas' Eve around 12 o'clock ...

[sirius o. black]

Here we go, again.

A Sirius Black/Dorcas Meadowes fan-fic

The snow was falling on the bedroom window furiously, like it was trying to break in, making up for the previous weeks of winter when the streets had been soaking wet, but no snow flake managed to settle on the cold, damp roads of Camden, London. Thankfully, they managed to fix the pluming and the heating system so that the temperature in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was rather warm in comparison to how it would have been otherwise. Sirius wasn’t wearing any pajama even though he was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, but an old and tattered t-shirt and a pair of cotton trousers.

After reaching the number 274 of sheep jumping over the fence and still had his eyes wide open, and too much on his mind to be able to rest properly, he decided that it was all in vain. At least he broke one of his records, the longest he ever reached being 138. He wanted to sleep, but with being Christmas Eve and having the opportunity to spend it as he used to and longed for during the past 14 years of his life, but still being unable to, was really affecting his already troubled sleep. He had had a problem with sleeping ever since she first entered the house, but tonight nothing seemed to work. He didn’t want to turn to whiskey again not really being a big fan of the morning hangover. Plus, the headquarters was filled by the Weasleys and Harry, not to mention Daniel, her son. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to see him either drunk or hungover.

Unwillingly he remembered how it had been many years ago, before Azkaban, James and Lily’s deaths and the end of the First War. Back then, even though every turn you’d take was a dangerous, empty street, they still found things that made all of the bad parts of life worth going through. As long as he had her to hold, steal a kiss every now and again during a guard night, or even spend endless nights with, he knew that he could and would take on anyone and anything. It was bittersweet to think that the best time of his life had been spent in those days, but even a swift, slightly secret affair, relationship, call it what you may, was the greatest thing, especially since he had it with someone who saw life as he did. One thing that had to be lived to the fullest, because it couldn’t be changed if broken or started again if you should fail at it. You had one try at it and one alone. He used to think like that anyhow, better said, was allowed to think like that, but times had changed. Sadly, he did not.

Remembering one Christmas with her, in particular, wasn’t really the whole idea, but having experience all of them, each and every one, whether it was only with her or along with James and Lily, the young newlyweds, going over the best moments that happened to him around this time, his mind eventually became his worst enemy. In Azkaban at least they were bad memories, but now, the bitter feeling in his entire body was a result of all the good memories, memories that were in the past and nothing could make him think possible that those things, anything really, would happen to him again, ever.

The fact that she had a son and that she had been married had been reduced to nothing over the past months as the memories that they shared were much too powerful for him to defeat. Daniel was younger than Harry, but quite smart for his age and he had the most awkward ability for a boy that age. He could really interpret things that were, sometimes even for grownups, hard to understand. Whenever Sirius would be in the same room as his mother and Daniel would also share the space, he would often look at Sirius threateningly, if a kid could pull off that look. He seemed to read what he was thinking, and not once, Sirius had been put in the uncomfortable position of wondering whether or not the boy could read minds. He had been assured that he was incapable of that feat by a very calm and untouched mother.

Pissed at himself and at his incapacity of controlling his own mind from stepping on land-mine like thoughts, he forced himself out of bed and into his slippers, pulling a night robe on and started towards the ground floor for a hot chocolate. It was ridiculous. Fourteen years had passed since then, but still, he remembered everything like it had been yesterday. Her smile, one that hadn’t been visible as of late; her smell, which was an unreachable delight for him now; her beautiful eyes that used to be a wide open book for him, where he could see how she felt, the fear, the courage and, lastly, the love, those eyes were like the highest security vaults from Gringotts, unreachable, cold and disarming. The woman who he used to know better than he knew even himself was stranger than an Asian woman from the other side of the globe, and more unknown than death. All of their history, because of her attitude was more and more like a mystery for him.

The house seemed deserted as he reached the ground floor and headed towards the kitchen which was a level lower. Leave it to the Black’s to organize a healthy and hygienically safe environment to live in, but leave the kitchen in the basement because that’s a place where only House Elves go. Stupid pure blood elitists. Upon opening the kitchen door he jumped when Kreacher started mumbling to himself. He chose to ignore the poor misfortunate nut case of elf and went on to prepare himself the cup of hot chocolate. As he finished it off with two tea spoons of sugar, he heard a soft and whispered song playing in the living room, probably from someone having left the radio on. It was after all the middle of the night.

The living room door was wide open when he reached it and the lack of empty room stopped him dead in his tracks. There was a Christmas Tree partly decorated in the middle of the wooden floor and a box next to it with the remaining decorations. He couldn’t help but notice that, both the decorations which were already placed in the perfectly shaped tree and those that were waiting their turn in the relatively big box, were all Gryffindor red and gold. A slender, long, brown haired woman was picking each one up from the box and thoughtfully let her eyes search the pine for the best place to accommodate the, now, golden star in her hand.

The music was playing on the Wizarding Radio at a soft atmospheric light volume, but loud enough so the lyrics were still understandable as she was singing along with the tune every now and again. What was unknown by him, was that even though she was doing something that would bring joy to most everyone and it was something that she genuinely loved doing, adorning a Christmas Tree always made her sad, not always but for the last 14 years or so. It wasn’t however the kind of sadness that one feel in regards to someone passing, but for the memories that you have left of that friend, the happy memories that are worthy of remembrance. She had many happy moments from her very troubled past, but maybe the reason for which they were so powerful was because she also had a lot of bad ones to make to contrast bigger. Those memories had probably been brought to life because of the overall feelings inspired by Christmas and everything a Christmas Tree stood for. But she couldn’t let another year go by for her son without a Christmas Tree.

Money had been an issue for her in the past years. Ever since her husband died she had been forced to financial independence, something she had never been particularly good at. During the beginnings of the First War she forced herself to be on her own, but generally this meant crashing at any of her friends who would be kind enough to open their door and welcome her in. Most often she would have found herself knocking on her sister’s door. They may had been twins, but while Siobhan was carefully making a career, she was busy activating in the war. After having tried renting a flat, which lasted for a couple of months before realizing that she couldn’t manage with rent, and some time passed, she became very close friends with her first boyfriend. They had been friends before, but after a few stolen kisses they had hit a bifurcation. They could have become awkward around each other and ruin the still slightly edgy friendship they had, or kick a laugh at it and remain good, and later on great, friends. They chose the latter, however none of them guessed where that would lead them.

Dorcas Meadowes continued decorating the tree, but with picking up one of the globes she was struck by another very fond memory, one that had no other relations but that connected to him. He had given that particular star, golden outer lining with a vivid red center which formed another curly star. He said, back then, that it was like the star after which he had been named, one bright star completed by a smaller, less sharp one. He wasn’t doing much better financially so that was his Christmas present to her, aside from the one from the bedroom later on.

Before things started to happen, the situation was curious between them. They would joke about sex and relationships, teasing each other, but it was always, just a game, for laughs. It stopped being that for her when she slept over at Lily’s one night and woke up with him sleeping next to her. Nothing had happened, but that opened another door for her. At first occasionally, but growingly more often, she would sleep at his place, on the living room sofa, mind you, but even that, not for long. She had always hated sleeping alone, so one night which was colder than usual and after a difficult mission, she went to his bedroom. She had done that before when they were together, but not since then. She usually tried not to sleep at his place because one of the few kisses they had shared while not being together, had happened after a mission for the Order. Her brain kept telling her not to, but it happened.

That night was the start of their ... relationship, one would say, but feelings are shared in a real relationship and they never did that ... fling would say another, but a fling doesn’t last for close to four years ... friends with benefits could be another name, but he had always been more than that for her. Lovers would sum it all up, but that also sounds too vulgar for what they were. She never heard those three words from him and she never spoke them either, but he must have known she felt them and she was almost sure he did. In a few weeks they ended up virtually sharing his flat, even though he was paying most of the rent. She never allowed him to pay all of it out of pride, but couldn’t manage to make it to 50/50. She chipped in in other ways, whether it was with making sure the flat wasn’t a total, utter and complete mess all the time, but not being very organized herself, the only noticeable thing was that the dishes would be clean, the floor mopped, every now and again they would make a game out of it and she would play the French maid. It was bliss. The war and the battles were left on the outside of that one bedroom, brick wall, small, but cozy flat, which soon enough became their escape.

That time had been like the summer romance she never had, multiplied by sixteen. But all good thing come to an end and that end came on a Halloween night. She felt that something was off for days but he never said anything. He seemed down and out of mood, grumpy even, but she thought that it would pass and he’ll be again like he used to be. On that night he left the flat rather late and never came back. She wasn’t left worrying for too long though seeing as the very next morning she received a request to attend a questionary hearing at the Ministry. Upon getting there, having asked for advice from Dumbledore who had been quite silent and sorrowful even for him, she had no idea what to expect. The first three questions cleared the air however: Are you in any way connected to the traitor Sirius Black? Do you have an alibi for the night when Lily Potter, maiden name Evans, and James Potter had been killed, 31st of October 1981? What happened during your stay in captivity over four months ago before having been “rescued” by the afor mentioned Sirius Black?

She was released after a series of over 50 questions on the same lines as the ones above, and as soon as she walked out she threw up everything she had eaten for the past week. The days that followed hadn’t been any better. From throwing up whatever she ate, she switched to fainting from lying in bed most of the day and failing to sleep during the night. She couldn’t eat, speak, even cry after about two weeks. Questions were replaced by answers; answers in turn by other question and it seemed a never ending line. Disbelief became anger, then disgust, then blame, then anger again. The few remaining members of the Order had no idea what to do, but after a couple of months the answer came to her.

Leaving everything behind, she decided to go on with her life and stop wasting it. She left the flat they had shared, went to the north, in Wales, and settled down there. With Daniel and her new husband things seemed to find a floating line and she balanced herself and dedicated her life to be a good mother for her son and a decent wife. He was a muggle and had no idea about what she and Daniel were. He died however in a car crash before witnessing and magical signs from Daniel who had been 10 at the time. The boy did however nurture his magical gift from a very young age, as soon as 4. Thankfully however, only Dorcas had been around at any such occasion seeing as she barely ever worked. She loved her son and swore to do anything to make sure he receives all the love she, as a mother, was capable of giving.

Michael left her quite a nice sum of money in his will, but not enough to afford buying the books necessary for Hogwarts. Daniel had received the letter when he was 11, but she explained the situation to him and as a way too mature young boy for his age, he understood the sacrifice. That wasn’t the only reason for which Daniel refused the admission. The last thing Dorcas wanted was to face her past and so she enrolled him to another, less famous school up in Wales, well away from Dumbledore and his little puppets.

Since she found out about Sirius’ escape from Azkaban she wanted nothing more but to make him suffer as she had all the years since then, to repay him with all the betrayal she had felt. She had been conflicted between believing what she knew of him and what everyone else was saying. Once they agreed on giving it another try he had been good to her, better than ever and he gave her four years of bliss, but like the first time, when it ended it had been worse than killing her. She was left to live the rest of her life blaming herself for his decisions, thinking that she could have seen it, stopped him, but didn’t. She had to go on however, for her son. She wanted Daniel to have as normal a life as it was possible. For the most part she succeeded, but since Michael died it hadn’t been easy.

The decorations were hers, some dated back to her time with him, but no matter how mad she was for what he had done, she couldn’t let go of the good memories he left her. Before finding out the truth about what really happened during that Halloween night, she couldn’t help but give him an award for the best double agent she had ever met. On one side, he was the faithful, caring, loyal and courageous man that would step in front of a killing curse for James, a man that she would have given her life for, a man that she loved above anything else, on the other he was the cold hearted traitor that betrayed his best friends trust, led to their murder and forced her to live with the guilt and the shame of having ever been connected in any way to him. Part of her couldn’t believe that it was true, but even Dumbledore testified against him. Back then the only person that could level the trust she had in Sirius was Dumbledore. That changed too.

She left because she was fed up with following orders, especially seeing as she learned the hard way that noone could be trusted. Since then she couldn’t bring herself to be 100% honest towards anybody; even Daniel had thought that she was a squib until a few months ago and still didn’t know the whole truth about himself and his blood. She wanted nothing to do with that world and swore not to enter it ever again.

It was ironic, because no matter what she had felt during the 12 years after his imprisonment, no matter how she kept reasoning against how she knew him to be and how he seemed to be after being sent to Azkaban, he had remained the only man she ever loved. Michael was a good man, he was able to make her happy, but that was it. Even when they would have sex it had always been a duty for her not a desire. It hadn’t been Michael’s fault, but he had been a compromise for her. She had lived her one true love and no matter how hard she tried to look at Michael like that, she never managed.

Finding out the truth about Sirius from Remus and about how they were gathering the Order back to fight, changed everything for her. She wanted to know that Daniel was safe, but with Voldemort out on the run again, none of them were. She decided to help, in any way she could, even with moving into the Headquarters, she at least didn’t have to worry about bills anymore. Dumbledore insisted that she transfer Daniel to Hogwarts and she eventually did that too. Many times she had been asking herself whether or not she was walking in another trap, but she forced herself not to be paranoid.

They moved in Grimmauld Place during summer break, and ever since, her contact with Sirius had been forced to a minimum. She would address him only during meetings, when necessary, or in front of other people, but it was never comfortable. She was sharp and very poor in words for him, but he eventually accepted that. Whenever they ended up alone in a room he would watch her walk out rapidly to avoid any sort of situation in which she would have to be nice towards him. It annoyed him to no end, but there wasn’t virtually anything he could do, because she never allowed him even the slightest try.

In the beginning he thought it had been because of the many years that had gone by without seeing each other. Time could really do damage even in cases like theirs, but later he understood that it was more than that. She was mad and he couldn’t blame her. She had every reason to be mad, but if he would only get a chance to explain, to tell her why he did things like he did. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the truth, but she accused him of not having trusted her the one time it had been more than necessary. How could he have lived with himself if he would have been the Secret Keeper, knowingly endangering her as well? Merlin knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep the secret for long if she would have been tortured in front of him, and that was how they worked. They would find your weakness and forced you to give in by using whatever they had on you against you.

The woman who had transformed from the young woman he had known, to the real woman that she was now, went on with the decoration completely oblivious to the man who was now leaning on the door frame taking in every motion of her body so that his mind would register each small change that her figure had suffered along the years. The one that he noticed first was her hair that had grown since the last time he held her. Back then it barely ever when below her shoulders. She did wear it longer while they had been Hogwarts sweethearts, back in their fifth year, but after he broke up with her after Christmas, she cut it short. He hated it short having spent so many minutes twisting his fingers in it. Now it went as low as her waist, but he could only guess that seeing as she held it in a plaited tail or a loop, neither of those really fitting her. It wasn’t that it didn’t look good on her, but he preferred it lose. Now it was falling down her back, slight waves were barely visible. Her clothes were different as well. While in her 20’s she wore lots of skirts or dresses, outfits that made men turn their head at a 180 degree angle after her walking-by form. How he liked it when that would happen, but she would be by his side, holding his hand and not even sparring a glance at them. Now she was wearing pants, jeans, never skirts, not even long ones and turtleneck sweaters or jumpers, no more high heels, but boots or sneakers. The pregnancy also left its imprint on her body, but only slightly, her hips being barely visibly wider, but that was normal. The biggest difference however, was her expression and the sadness in her eyes. She did her best to hide it, but there were some things that hadn’t changed: his ability to read her, even though it wasn’t as strong as it used to be.

The music changed and the song that followed fit his state, or better yet, how he felt: The Pretenders – Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas and there was nothing else he wanted right now. As he watched her arranging a string or red tinsel in the tree, old memories came back to him of their first Christmas together as a couple. She may have changed, but she was the same for him, the years that passed by or her stubbornness couldn’t change that. If the years spent in Azkaban didn’t change the way he felt about her, he doubted anything would. Those awful 12 years had been worse than a nightmare, because you can wake up from a bad dream, but no matter what he did he could snap out of it. The memory of her made it bearable for him, made it possible to wake up every morning, to eat the abominable food they served him every morning and night, to breathe. It had been horrible and he couldn’t wish that to happen even to his worst enemy.

She was almost done with the decorations as she turned around with a start having seen his reflection in one of the golden globes. They stared at each other for a few seconds that to him seemed like hours. She broke the gaze abruptly and bent down to give herself some time to recover and him the chance to leave. Unfortunately he didn’t share her way of thinking and came closer to her bending across the box of decoration from her. He didn’t try to catch her eyes, but went to pick a globe for himself to help her. There were only 5 more globes in the box and one long red tinsel. He picked a red globe and placed it on one of the branches of the tree half expecting her to tell him to go and leave her alone to finish decorating the tree. That didn’t happen however and so he bent for another one and so on.

It shocked him when they placed the tinsel together around the tree, but never meeting, she made sure of that. He didn’t know what to say, how to start the conversation without causing her to leave the room and leave him alone to do the final touches. He knew that the top star was the only one left to place, but when he bent down for it, the box was empty. Looking up he saw her trying to place it herself. She wasn’t particularly tall and he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips when he saw her stretching to reach to highest bough. Even with bending it she couldn’t reach it. After a few mistrials she gave in with a sigh and looked at him for the first time since they locked eyes when he was in the door and he understood what she wanted as she stretched out her hand, holding the star in it as she did so. He took the five point decoration from her hand with as minimum contact as possible and stretched out on the tip of his toes to reach the respective branch. Even with being as tall as he was he barely managed to fit the top.

While taking a step away from the Christmas Tree in order to have a full look at it, the song changed and, without realizing it, she started swaying to the melody, being one of her favorite Christmas related songs. It was sad and the lyrics reminded her of a man she once loved because, with every lyric, it described him. That man was sitting in front of her, right by the tree that was the symbol of Christmas in the Christian homes around the world. As he wasn’t looking at her but at the tree, she stole a glance at him and her heart ached. The song did nothing to make her feel better, but it only intensified her feelings of regret and longing And this is how I see you/In the snow on Christmas morning/Love and happiness surround you as you throw your arms up to the sky/I keep this moment by and by. As he turned around their eyes met again, but this time she didn’t break the connection. As the chorus went by, they looked at each other, both of them, having so much to say, but not knowing how to start. Both of them wore a similar sad smile on their faces, angry at the same time because they didn’t know what to do or to say.

He broke the moment because it was too much to bear. He knew that he could bring the old smile back on her lips, if only she would let him. He took a step towards her so that he was right in front of her, much closer than they had been since she came back into his life. He knew that he was risking way too much, but he had to force the border a bit. They were face to face staring into each other’s eyes, but he was determined to follow his instinct. He took her hand into his, bringing her closer to him with the hand that went behind her back. Without saying anything he began swaying with her, slowly, softly, as his breath became stronger. Her head found the place that had been oh so familiar for her, below his collar bone and she could hear his heart beating so fast that it threatened to burst out of his chest. She didn’t dare look up at him and he seemed to feel the same as he rested his cheek on her temple.

The song was nearing its final lines and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t make the first move. He missed her smell, her touch, her soft lips, but it ached to think that if he dared more than this, she would be even colder to him. It had been painful to be in the same house with her and barely even talk to her. When she did talk, it was to tell him off something, to argue, to spit snide remarks his way. He gave up and this night seemed like a dream. Partly he couldn’t believe it, and dreaded waking up.

Her frame moved slightly and was looking up at him now. As he looked down at her, he could see one single tear rolling down her right cheek. With his thumb he wiped it away and his hand rested below her jaw line unable to release now that he felt how soft her skin was, like it used to be. Her hand went behind his neck and, on the tip of her toes; she brought her face closer to his, with her eyes pleading him to complete the journey left. And he did.

Unknown to the pair sharing the lustful, but tender kiss in front of the Christmas Tree, a boy of 13 was watching from the door frame, the exact place where his, unknown by him, father had stayed mere minutes ago.

[remus j. lupin]

So late but finally reviewing!

Where to begin? Okay, this is going to be a really random review. I liked the story. There were two things you did that I really, really, really loved so much that I want to comment on beyond "good story!!!!"

I very much liked how you utilized setting as more than a prop. (Can anyone tell my mother taught English literature?). You have so many ways that you use it in the story and it's just excellent. For example, early on, you're giving a description of the time of year, with the weather, etc. and the descriptions you used really gave a lot of insight into the narrator and his feelings/where he is on an emotional level. Another example - the way you use the tree and the tree decorating (even the ornaments) to tell us readers about the principles. You had a lot of back information you needed to give, but it never felt like an information dump. It felt like a story. It was a great use of the props that were available. I was pulled into the story early and was never jarred out.

I also really liked how Dorcas believes Sirius betrayed them. I think it would have been tempting to do the "But I always knew you were innocent" plot. That you didn't but kept the story realistic (I know I would have believed Sirius to be the traitor based on the facts available) gives you a standing ovation from me. Really, that was just awesome.

Overall, it was a very fun read and I really enjoyed it. Good job on the fic.

[dorcas r. meadowes]

HAPPY NEW YEAR DIANA!


Dorcas had suffered from recurring insomnia for years. Almost since the day that James and Lily had died and Sirius had left her. In the weeks that followed their deaths and the trial of Sirius Black she had struggled to sleep, and then Daniel had come along and pretty much cemented the idea that going to bed was something that shouldn’t be attempted until the early hours of the morning. When she had been married she had forced herself to lie in bed next to her husband, focus on his breathing as he slept, pretend that everything was okay. She knew that he would want her to go to a doctor if he knew she had insomnia, but there was nothing a doctor could do to help her. After he died she got used to finding things to do at night that distracted her, it hadn’t been unusual for Daniel to wake up in the morning to find their home spotless.

Tonight she was putting up Christmas decorations. The tree had been brought earlier in the day, the decorations retrieved from the attic where she had put them when she moved in by some of the Weasley boys, and Molly had offered to do it with her in the morning. At the time she had agreed, but then night had rolled around and sleep had been evasive despite her book, so decorating was the next best thing. She had conjured paperchains for the walls, holly on the mantelpiece and on the lintels of the doors, now it was the tree’s turn. She couldn’t wait for Daniel to wake up and see it in the morning. Christmas had always been a magical time for him, and even though he was a teenager now he still found it exciting. It was something that Michael had encouraged, even dressing up as Santa when Daniel was five. At times like this she missed him, even though she was now living in Sirius’ house with the man himself sleeping upstairs.

Michael had been the opposite of Sirius. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, a little shorter at five foot ten and less muscular, though certainly not fat or even chubby. He had been quiet, gentle, a little predictable. She had had a great deal of affection for him, admired the way he raised Daniel as his own. She felt attraction for him and, yes, even lusted for him because without that she would never have been able to go to bed with him. But he never managed to raise the passionate, all-consuming love that she had once had. That part of her was firmly locked away. He loved her and she told him that she loved him too, after all it was true in a way. She cried for him when he died, she had lost a good man, a wonderful companion, and the hope that that he could heal the part of her heart that had been broken.

And Daniel had lost his Dad. In many ways that had been the worst part of her, having to watch her son mourn his parent. Daniel knew that Michael was not his biological father, they had never hidden that fact from him, but with his natural childhood innocence it wasn’t a problem. Michael taught him to ride a bike, helped him with his homework, took him to swimming lessons, did everything that a Dad should do. Sometimes she would watch the pair of them and wonder if his real father, whose own parents had been bloody awful, would have been able or willing to do all those things.

Sirius had still left an imprint on his son, even if only through genetics. Daniel had, blessedly, inherited his Mum’s chocolate brown eyes, and he was definitely a brunette albeit many shades darker than chestnut. But had his father’s facial structure, the same jawline and defined cheekbones that came straight from the Black family genes. And he had the same gaze that pierced through people and pinned them to the spot. Once Sirius had asked her flat out if “her son” (since he had no idea Daniel was his) could read minds. She had chuckled at the presumption and assured him that he couldn’t. But what she had wanted to say to him was that he had had the exact same look when he was Daniel’s age. Only when he was angry, mind you, but still identical. But that would involve telling him that Daniel was his son and that was not a hurdle she wanted to approach.

Decorating the tree brought back more memories than she liked to remember. In their seventh year Lily had been Head Girl and Dory had spent a good twenty minutes one morning begging her to persuade McGonagall to let them decorate the tree in Gryffindor themselves. Normally the house elves did all the trees for the common rooms, but Dory had been persistent and in Lily had given in just to get her to shut up. It had surprised both of them when McGonagall had readily agreed and had the boxes of assorted decorations sent to the common room for them to deal with. The four girls, Dory, Lily, Marlene and Mary had done the work, with the occasional “helpful” comment from James and Sirius and a couple of nearby third years. They had decorated it in red and gold and the light from the fire in the grate seemed to make the baubles glow like stars on a dark green sky.

And now here she was, doing the same thing, alone this time. Mary had disappeared a few years after the end of the war, Dory assumed she had been just as fed up and had gone into hiding, she didn’t like to think of her friend dead. Not when Lily and Marlene had both been slaughtered in their own homes. She couldn’t be the only one that had survived, the only one that had been saved by the man she loved. The man that had then betrayed their best friends. That was what she had believed for years, that Sirius had betrayed his best friend’s family to Voldemort. There had always been a part of her, deep down, that had worried that one day blood would out and he would betray them for the Pureblood ideals he had claimed to turn his back on. At first she had refused to believe it, even when the Aurors arrested her and took her in for questioning in an ordeal that had lasted six hours. All their questions had been about Sirius and their relationship, whether he had said anything about betraying the Potters, if he said anything in support of Voldemort, what her alibis were since he may not have acted alone.

She had spent the following weeks being sick, feeling exhausted, even fainting once or twice. She had assumed that it was because of everything that was happening. In truth she hoped that she was dying, she was too cowardly for suicide but nor did she want to live with her best friend dead, the man she loved in prison, and everyone suspecting that she had helped him. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Sirius could do something like that, but when Dumbledore himself had testified against him she had accepted it. She thought she knew Sirius but she didn’t. She thought he had loved her, but since he clearly still believed all the Pureblood hype she had been nothing more than something to fuck, after all she was only a halfblood. Nothing special to a member of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

But then she had discovered she was pregnant. After being ill for weeks she had finally gone to a Healer, who had quickly found another heartbeat. It was as if Sirius had betrayed her all over again. He knew she didn’t want children, he himself had sworn multiple times that he didn’t want them either, and yet he had still got her pregnant, forcing her to carry his spawn. The anger had died down within days though, she couldn’t hate the little life growing inside her. She packed up and moved herself far away from everyone that knew her, ready to start her life anew. Her baby would not know that it’s father was a traitor, hated by the entire magical world. She met Michael when she was eight months pregnant, when she gave birth to Daniel he came to visit her in the hospital and then several times a week in the months following, and a relationship had grown from there.

She thought she was alone, but as she hung up one of the baubles she spotted the reflection of someone lurking in the doorway. She spun round, finding Sirius standing and staring at her. She felt the annoyance bubble up, who did he think he was to just stand there and watch her? But the annoyance was flooded out by the look in his eyes. He still found her desirable, even after all these years, and that was not something she was going to take for granted. She had turned heads once, in short skirts and high heels and bright colours. Once she had dressed up like that for a girl’s night out, Michael had never said anything about it but she knew that he disapproved as he had been a bit cold to her for a few days following, and she hadn’t attempted to do the same thing again since. Nowadays she dressed like a Mum, in jeans and functional tops and shoes that were easy to walk in. She didn’t even cut her hair short any more, she had let it grow and just decided to keep it long.

She turned back to the job at hand without saying a word to Sirius, but that didn’t deter him. Instead he came in and picked up another bauble, there were only a few left besides the star to go on top, and hung it off the tree. She was tempted to tell him to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. This had once been a special time of year for him too. She even let him help put the tinsel around the tree, although she was careful to make sure that their hands didn’t brush together “accidentally” or that they didn’t bump into each other.

Finally all that was left was the star, a gift from him during their first real Christmas together. Neither of them had had much money that year, so his gift had been the star and hers had been a Christmas dinner that had taken hours to cook and had still ended with a shop-bought dessert because both her attempts had failed miserably. Somehow she just hadn’t ever been able to bring herself to throw it away. For many years she had kept it wrapped up and hidden at the bottom of the decorations box, until one Christmas when a seven year old Daniel found it and insisted that it go on the tree. She had found that Christmas especially difficult, the star seemed to be an accusation, as if Daniel knew she was hiding the truth about his father from him. Her son had also begged for a puppy as a gift that year, something that Michael had wanted to agree to but which she had vetoed. She invented a phobia of dogs and a story of how she had been bitten by one once. Daniel had been disappointed and she had felt incredibly guilty for it. She just couldn’t deal with another reminder around the house. Even after that though she couldn’t throw the star out.

Now it was tradition that it went on the tree, on the highest possible point. She couldn’t reach however, no matter how high she stretched, so she had to give up and hand it over to Sirius. Even he, at six foot, struggled slightly but soon it was done and the job was completed. The living room looked lovely, like a proper Christmas room should do, and she couldn’t help but yearn for all the Christmases they should have celebrated together, all the years they should have spent putting up the decorations together in the evening as a surprise for Daniel, trying to stifle giggles and laughter while their son slept upstairs. When he looked at her she wondered if he was thinking the same thing, but that was impossible, not when he was unaware of Daniel’s parentage. Perhaps then he was wondering if they would have had children, deep down she had wanted Daniel to have a sibling and she and Michael had tried for a baby but nothing had ever come of it. Maybe she and Sirius would have been more successful...

She was barely aware that she was reacting to the music, until his hand slipped into hers and he pulled her into a close embrace. Her head found the familiar spot on his chest where it had always rested, whether it was while dancing or after making love. She hadn’t realised how much she missed this, simply being close to him, the way they knew what the other was thinking or feeling without saying a word. Since she and Daniel had moved in she had barely even looked at him. Remus had told her the truth about everything, because nowadays he was the only one she felt she could trust, but it hadn’t made her more willing to able to completely forgive him. His stupid, reckless actions had put him in Azkaban, had turned their remaining friends against her with suspicion that she had been part of it, and robbed Daniel of knowing his father. She had spoken to him to argue, or tell him off, anything to push him away so he wouldn’t think he could get that close to her ever again.

This time though she couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to push him away. If anything she wanted to pretend the last twelve years hadn’t happened. But that was impossible and the knowledge of that made tears well up in her eyes. She regretted believing that he was a traitor, regretted not telling Daniel about his father, and regretted that she had let Dumbledore drag her back into the fold and face everything. One tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, but was quickly brushed away by Sirius. He had been one of only a handful of people in the world that she had allowed to see her cry. That tender act made her want more. Almost instinctively her hand moved up and she raised herself on tiptoes, mentally begging him to not reject her.

And then he leaned down and kissed her, and it felt as if they were nineteen again instead of an ex-convict and a widowed mother in their mid-thirties. Neither of them noticed their son standing in the doorway, nor did they see the way he shrugged to himself before he slipped back to his own bed.

Sirius’ arms wrapped around her waist tightly, holding her close, lifting her off her feet slightly. She was lost in his embrace, but there was a small part of her holding her back. When he kissed her like this in the past there was only one thing it was going to lead to and she couldn’t do that, not when she had been hiding the truth from him for so long. With some difficulty she managed to break the kiss, which only led to him moving down to explore her neck.

“Sirius...wait...” His grip around her waist loosened slightly but he didn’t stop until she pushed against his chest. “Sirius!”

He looked hurt as he let go, stepping away from her. That wasn’t what she wanted, she wasn’t rejecting him like he thought she was. But this had to be said, if she slept with him and then told him the truth he would be angry. Well, he would be angry anyway, but she knew she couldn’t do this with him being so unaware.

“I’m sorry, there’s just something I need to tell you.” She waited for him to ask what it was, but all she got back was a cold, grey-eyed stare. It took more than that to intimidate her though. “I have to tell you something about Daniel. When I moved here Remus told you that I had been married and had a son, because that was all he knew. But...I met Michael when I was eight months pregnant. He was never Daniel’s biological father.”

She thought that that might be enough for him to work it out. But the stare and the silence remained. Either he didn’t get the connection or he thought she was confessing to dating someone else between him and Michael, some unknown man that she had never mentioned before.

“Daniel...Daniel was born in April 1982, seven months after James and Lily...after all of that happened.”

She could practically see his thoughts as he worked out what she was trying to say. If he had been born seven months after James and Lily died then he must have been conceived two months before they died. There was only one man that she had been sleeping with at the time, as far as he knew, and that was him. His gaze drifted down to her stomach, and then back up to her.

“He’s mine?”
“Yes.”

She thought he was going to be angry. She thought he would deny it instantly. The young Sirius certainly would have done so, and probably accuse her of cheating on him as well. But Sirius was older, wiser, and she suspected that deep down he had noticed some of the similarities between him and Daniel.

“I’m sorry.”
“I said...”
“No, I heard you, I meant I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what she had been expecting. Where was the shouting? Why the apology? He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her again, hugging her against him tightly, burying his face in her neck so she could barely hear the hushed whisper.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. That I missed...everything. I’m sorry.”