SHE'S ALL THAT ➭ SIRIUS BLACK ❨2❩ ✔︎

ACT FIVE, SCENE THIRTY

FONTAINE MANOR

In the middle of the night towards the end of July, Sage Fontaine-Black found herself awake and alone in her bed.

She had been having a dream—a nightmare, really—that had been so alarming, so chilling and eerie, that she'd woken up in a start, sitting up straight with her heart pounding incessantly in her chest.

She'd seen Voldemort's face, up close and far more personal than she'd ever want to see him. He had seemed to be hovering over her, and even though every nerve in her body was telling her to scream, hit him, and run, she was frozen, paralyzed by fear. She couldn't move, even just twitching her finger or blinking.

He'd loomed over her, leering and showing off rotted teeth. "Oh, Miss Fontaine. You've betrayed me. For years you were under my protection, doing my bidding in exchange for safety and security. But you weren't loyal, were you? I never suspected a thing—you were so dependable, and you did everything I asked you to do, whether it be murder or something even more heinous. All the while, you were telling secrets to my enemies." He chuckled mirthlessly, eyes holding a cruel and corrupt emotion. "Now, what am I going to do with you?"

Sage's forearm burned with the fire of a thousand suns, and only then was she able to gather the strength to speak:

"I didn't do anything." She burst, thrashing against the invisible paralysis. "I never told anyone anything." She wanted to cry, to burst into tears and let the fear and pain take over her.

He made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue, and he pulled out his wand. "Don't lie to me, Fontaine. I have ways of forcing you to tell the truth." He said in a sing-song voice.

She thought of Harry, and how if Voldemort had found her, he'd probably find Harry soon enough. "Is this how you treat your best assassin? With empty threats and intimidation?" She said, putting on a false sense of courage.

"So bold for someone who hides behind her husband when things get tough."

The mention of Sirius made her go utterly still and stop flailing completely. "He doesn't know anything. Don't hurt him. If you touch him, I swear to Merlin himself that I will do to you what I did to Lawson, and then some." She said fiercely, eyes wide and feral. "You think you're big and bad, Tom, but do you remember who did all the killing, between the two of us? It wasn't you. It was me."

"Such a spitfire in your old age, Fontaine. You might have been the one to have done all the killing on my behalf, but weren't you the one who sat in the back of the room during meetings, quiet as a mouse? I don't think you're in the proper position to make threats, especially when your darling husband and son are as good as dead."

It was then that she woke up, terrified and alone.

The urge to check Harry's room was too strong to overcome, so she tossed the comforter off of her legs and tiptoed out of her bedroom, wincing as the wood floor creaked under her feet.

His door was shut, as it always was, for he was a moody teenager who valued privacy almost as much as he valued bravery and courage. She didn't bother knocking, though; if he was asleep, like he should have been at three in the morning, he would never know she had been in there.

Harry was asleep, curled up on his side with one arm crooked under his head instead of using a pillow.

And the rocking chair under the large window was occupied as well. Sirius had folded in on himself in what looked like a horribly uncomfortable position, fast asleep.

She leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed, looking at her two boys with softness in her expression.

It seemed like Sirius had had the same idea of checking in on Harry, despite the fact that he was about to be fifteen and didn't need anyone to watch him through the night anymore, like he did when he was a baby.

Sage sighed, crossing the room in three long strides and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Even though he was mostly asleep, Harry felt the bed dip and leaned over to rest his head in her lap, mumbling something under his breath.

"Thanks, Mum." He whispered breathily before going back to sleep.

Her jaw went slack. He hadn't called her Mum since the morning of the custody hearing, nearly fourteen years ago. Something in her heart fractured, and she felt the need to down a bottle of firewhisky just to dull the heartbreak.

Sirius cleared his throat, slowly waking up and correcting his posture. "Sage?" He grumbled, raspy and hoarse. "What're you doing up, love? It's the middle of the night."

She moved Harry's head onto a pillow and rose from the bed. "Woke up from a nightmare. Couldn't find you. Wanted to check on Harry. What about you?" She asked in reply.

"Couldn't sleep. Sometimes I sleep better when I know he's safe." He said, and he pulled her into a hug.

She sighed into the fabric of his shirt. "Me, too. Want a drink?"

"Always."