𝙿𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 - 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦 | ✔︎

Chapter 7

It was pitch black by the time Sirius and Natasha arrived home, the latter having fallen asleep quite quickly, nearly slipping off and giving her father a heart attack. Kreacher greeted the two by the door, and for the first time ever, Sirius didn't insult the house elf.

Instead, he watched the interaction between his daughter and the elf silently, how Kreacher bowed to Natasha, and how she hugged him back. He was thankful his mother's portrait had been moved to the attic by Aurelia, as he couldn't bear to deal with the loud woman.

Even though his mother had managed to place a permanent sticking charm on her portrait, no one was smarter than Aurelia Black when it came to charms, so she had gotten it off with ease, much to the distaste of Walburga.

Natasha was still half-asleep by the time they walked inside, and with no order needed, she shuffled up to the second floor, straight into the bedroom she hadn't seen for years.

It was just the same as she had left it, white walls with a gold decoration created by Aurelia when Natasha was just a baby. Her bed covers were red and gold, stolen from her father's room when she came home from her first year at Hogwarts. Some of her father's old school memorabilia, like his scarves and banners, were also hanging, creating a homely vibe for the girl.

Without bothering to change, as all of her clothes that fit were either at the Burrow or Hogwarts, Natasha simply just threw herself onto her bed, glad to still have a certain boy's jacket on her.

~.~

Sirius checked in on his child just before he slumped off to his room, and as he opened the door, the memories of Natasha's early years flooded his mind. From the old Gryffindor banner, he had placed up when she was born to ensure she knew her father's house, to the little monkey statue Regulus had made for her before his death.

Nothing had changed, except for the much older girl now residing in this room. "Goodnight, Natasha," he whispered softly, shutting the door as gently as he could. He walked slowly down the hallway, remembering all the little details of the bannisters and the horrid voice of his mother, most notably when he came home from his first year at Hogwarts.

"What do you mean, Gryffindor?" she bellowed, as Orion, his father, stared down at him in disbelief. Sirius' face had a rather large cut, now seeping with blood, curtesy of his father's belt.

"You are a BLACK! You were bred to serve the pure-blooded house of Salazar Slytherin, not the blood traitors of Gryffindor!" he roared, lashing out at Sirius. Regulus had been silently observing the mess the whole time, covering his eyes whenever his father lashed out at his brother.

Instead of crying, Sirius stood tall, and to anyone that would have seen him, they would have noticed how his true Gryffindor spirit outshone the hatred of his family, how his daring and nerve protected his mind from the taunts he received.

"I can't even bare to look at you," Orion said, and with that, Sirius ran up to his room, brushing past Regulus.

"Are you okay Siri?" Regulus asked timidly, and the elder boy stopped, looking back to Regulus.

"I'll always be okay Reggie, I've got you and James and Remus and Peter, that's all I need," Sirius responded, before he locked himself in his room, smiling up at the newly placed red and gold banners.

Sirius' bedroom hadn't changed much; after he had been sent off to Azkaban, Aurelia couldn't bear to sleep in there, moving down the hall to the spare room. His prison wear was clearly too torn to repair, though it wasn't like he wanted to wear the ghastly attire ever again.

His wand was resting on his bedside table, courteous of Dumbledore who had managed to snag it just before Sirius' clothes and anything on him had been burned. Beside his wand, was a framed picture of the Marauders at the seventh year Christmas party, their faces so young, their innocence still so pure.

Aurelia and Lily had managed to sneak up to Sirius and James, scaring them as the picture was created, the moment lasting forever as Aurelia's face looked funny every five seconds. Remus was smiling, one of the rare moments in his life that it happened, and Peter was by Lily on her other side, his measly face angering Sirius.

He had wanted to be wrong about Peter, both James and he did. When the Potter's decided to use Sirius as a decoy, he knew the consequence if Peter did betray them. Sirius had been on his way to visit that night, but Peter had gotten in the way, blubbering and begging for forgiveness.

Ignoring Peter's face, Sirius turned back to Aurelia and himself, smiling as he realised Natasha was secretly there as well, unknown to everyone but the lovers. The only other item on the table was an unframed photo of Harry, zooming around on the broomstick James had gifted him with.

The note on the back was clearly in Lily's handwriting; James had swooned over it so many times at school that Sirius would have been stupid to not recognise it.

Sirius changed into more comfortable clothes, before crashing onto his bed in a similar style to his daughter.

They were so much more alike than they realised.