Come Home + Sirius Black

seventeen: the noble and most ancient house of black

It was only in recent days that Charlotte realized she'd never really stopped being a worrywart. At the time of the First Wizarding War, all she could hope for was for it to end so she might stop living in fear. But then she took into her care her godson, and it turned out, the fear never really went away.

She feared that she'd fail miserably in taking care of a baby on her own, she feared what sort of trouble Harry would find himself whenever he returned to Hogwarts, and now she feared for life once again. But this time, it wasn't her own that she cared about, but her godson's.

It had been a taxing week and a half since the revelation that Voldemort had returned. Dumbledore had been adamant on Harry returning to the Dursley's for a time that summer, much to Sirius annoyance, and even Charlotte didn't like the thought of him staying where she couldn't protect him, and though he allowed Harry to stay with them for the week after the school year ended, she and Sirius had been tiptoeing around Harry the entire time. They both wanted to comfort him, to be there if he needed it, but it was clear that he had preferred time to himself.

And like always, the house had felt empty when Harry left it.

"I spoke to Dumbledore," Sirius said during breakfast, the morning after Harry had returned to his aunt and uncle's. "He's rebuilding the Order."

The words were heavy in the air. Though Charlotte had been part of the Order during the first war, she could not help but remember all the people they lost. To some, the Order of the Phoenix might have been a sign of hope, a comfort to know that there were people fighting against evil. But for her, and perhaps even for Sirius, it was a symbol for all they had lost.

"I've offered my family's house to him to use as a headquarters," he said. She couldn't deny that this surprised her. She knew he had inherited the Black family home, but in all the years that they've known each other, Sirius did not open up about his family. She knew he had a younger brother that attended Hogwarts with them, but by the time they had become friends, Sirius had run away and was living with James, and he had rarely acknowledged Regulus' existence.

"Does that mean you'll be returning there?" She realized she didn't like the idea of having her house all to herself again.

"I'll have to make sure it's fit for guests, at least. I don't imagine Kreacher would have kept the floors polished all these years. If he's even alive, that is."

"Kreacher?"

"My family's house elf," he explained, and Charlotte simply nodded. It wasn't uncommon for old pureblood houses to still own house elves, she supposed. "Will you come with me? I don't want to return to that retched place alone."

She offered a comforting smile — Sirius seldom admitted to any kind of vulnerability. "Of course I will."

She didn't know what to expect at Sirius' childhood home. The extent of her knowledge of the Black family was that they were one of the longest-standing and wealthiest Pureblood houses, but from Sirius' hatred for them, she thought she might be entering someplace sinister. But when she arrived, her feet landing on the hearth of a fireplace, the first thought she had was that it was old.

The chimney had years worth of dust layered on the walls, which was to be expected as it was likely the first time the Floo had been used in years, but even as she stepped out of the fireplace, the floorboards creaked beneath her.

"Make yourself at home," Sirius said gloomily, dusting off his cloak. They appeared to be in some sort of drawing room, but it was even more evident in here that the house had not been lived in for many years. Dust coated the two couches in the center of the room that faced each other. There were no fingerprints on the piano on the other end of the room that suggested it had ever been played. Even the air of the room smelled rancid.