The night was suffocating, thick with tension as Y/N Black crept through the shadows. The mask was cold against her face, and the heavy black robes felt like chains binding her to a destiny she never chose. Her hand trembled as she gripped her wand, not with fear for herself but for what was about to unfold. The Order’s safehouse loomed ahead—a sanctuary for so many, but a prison for her. She was trapped in Voldemort’s game, a pawn forced to prove her loyalty to a cause that had already stolen her twin, Regulus.
Regulus. The thought of him sent a pang through her chest, a grief so sharp it nearly knocked the air from her lungs. He’d tried to stand against the darkness in the end, tried to do the right thing, and it had cost him his life. She didn’t have the courage to follow his lead—or maybe she just didn’t have a choice. The Dark Lord’s threats echoed in her mind, promises of pain and death if she failed.
Her heart raced as she entered the safehouse. It was quiet, too quiet, until she heard the voices. Familiar voices.
She froze as she spotted them: Sirius, her older brother, and his friends—Remus, James, and Peter. They were laughing softly, the kind of easy camaraderie she hadn’t known in years. For a moment, she couldn’t move. Memories of childhood flooded her mind, back when they’d all been together, before the war, before the Dark Mark, before everything had gone so horribly wrong.
“Focus,” she whispered to herself, tightening her grip on her wand. She had to play her part, had to make it believable. She raised her wand and cast the first spell, a curse that narrowly missed James as he leapt out of the way.
“Death Eaters!” he shouted, drawing his wand.
Chaos erupted. Spells flew in every direction, light and sound clashing violently in the cramped space. Y/N barely fought back, letting the curses strike her. She staggered under the impact of a Stunning Spell, falling hard against the floor. Pain flared through her body as someone’s curse struck her side, leaving her gasping.
“Got one!” James called, rushing forward.
“Let’s see who they are,” Sirius growled, yanking off her mask.
The room fell silent.
“No...” Sirius’s voice cracked, his face twisting in disbelief as he stared down at her. “No, it—it can’t be...”
“Sirius...” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
“What the hell is this?” James demanded, stepping closer. “Why is she—”
“Shut up!” Sirius snapped, his tone raw. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as they hovered over her bloodied form. “Y/N... what are you doing here? Why...?”
She couldn’t answer, the words caught in her throat as blood bubbled from her lips.
“She’s a Death Eater, Sirius,” Remus said cautiously, though his voice was heavy with sorrow.
“No!” Sirius barked, his anger exploding. “She’s not—she’s my sister! She wouldn’t—” He stopped abruptly, his face crumpling. “You wouldn’t... would you?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head weakly. “I didn’t... want this,” she rasped.
Sirius leaned closer, desperation etched into every line of his face. “Then why? Why are you wearing that... that thing?” He gestured furiously at the Dark Mark on her arm, visible now as her sleeve slipped up.
“They made me,” she whispered. “Regulus... he’s gone, Sirius. They... they said I’d end up like him if I didn’t...” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes against the weight of it all.
Sirius’s breath hitched. “Regulus,” he repeated, his voice thick with grief. He swore under his breath, a string of curses directed at Voldemort, the war, and himself. “I should’ve taken you with me when I left,” he said, his voice cracking. “I should’ve protected you.”
“You left,” she murmured, the words cutting deeper than any spell.
Sirius flinched as though struck. “I know. I know, and I’ll never forgive myself.” His hands trembled as he brushed her blood-matted hair from her face. “But I’m here now. I’m not leaving you again. Do you hear me, Y/N?”
Her lips twitched in the faintest of smiles, but it was fleeting. “It’s too late,” she whispered. “He’ll kill me for this. For failing.”
“Let him try,” Sirius snarled, his grief giving way to fury. “Let him come after me. I don’t care. You’re not dying here. Not like this.”
The others exchanged uneasy glances. James shifted uncomfortably, lowering his wand. “Sirius...”
“Don’t,” Sirius snapped, cutting him off. He cradled Y/N against his chest, his body trembling as he rocked her gently. “She’s not dying. She’s not.” His voice broke, and he buried his face in her hair. “You’re all I have left. Please, Y/N. Please stay.”
Her breathing slowed, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“No!” Sirius shouted, shaking her gently. “Y/N, don’t you dare give up on me!”
“She’s still alive,” Remus said quickly, kneeling beside him. “But we have to move fast, Sirius. She needs help.”
Sirius nodded frantically, clutching her tighter. “Help me, then,” he pleaded. “Please.”
The weight of loss and regret hung heavy in the air as the group moved to save her. Sirius’s tears fell freely, soaking into Y/N’s hair as he whispered over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
And for the first time in years, Sirius Black felt truly alone, clinging to the one piece of family he had left, praying it wouldn’t slip through his fingers.
