The Corpse That Lived.

Chapter 9

Sirius reached over and ruffled Dahlia hair a bit. "You did very well, Dahlia," he said quietly.

Well, that was a lie, Dahlia knew. She hadn't done well at all. She'd gotten nervous and called him 'Sir,' even though she wasn't supposed to. She'd been frightened of James and Lily, frightened by their expressions, and she wanted to get away without being hurt by anyone. Automatically, she reverted to the formal tone she was used to with adults, and it was embarrassing.

"I called you Sir," she grumbled.

"How many days have you been here?"

"I don't know. Maybe 8."

"Exactly. Only a few," Sirius answered meaningfully. "You've had nothing but hurt and surprise, you aren't expected to be perfect here."

"And you did a wonderful job. You came downstairs all on your own and said what you needed to say. I'm proud of you, Dahlia."

Dahlia blushed again and stared down at the rug "Are they very mad?" She finally asked after they were silent for a few minutes.

"At me, perhaps."

"You didn't do anything."

"That isn't how they see it. I'm taking you away from them. But that isn't for you to worry yourself over."

"They don't care," she shook her head. "They didn't even want it to be true."

"Dahlia," Sirius sighed wearily and rubbed at his temples. "I think you're going to hear whatever it is you want to hear, no matter what your mum and dad are actually saying."

Dahlia frowned a little at this, not understanding. "What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.

"You've been through too many difficult times, I think perhaps," he said carefully, and looked over at Dahlia as though she might break.

"Perhaps those things have made it harder for you to accept certain... truths."

When Dahlia frowned, Sirius continued, "Like how much you are loved. How much you have been missed, they've loved and missed you as much as I have."

Dahlia stared at Sirius, her breath caught somewhere between her ribs and throat, as if her own body didn't know how to process what she had just heard. She already assumed her parents were lying but Sirius no reason to lie. No one has ever said those words before, no one said that they loved her, with such unshakeable conviction.

The familiar sense of panic bubbled up in Dahlia's throat. She could never go back now.

She didn't want to return to the streets, but she had done all right for herself. It wasn't easy or fun or comfortable, but she was resourceful and she knew it. Over the last few days, her weariness and her confusion and her fear had left her small and weak and afraid, but she knew she could do what it took to survive. Now that she was recovered and building back her strength, she could take care of herself once more. And she knew about magic now, she could train herself, use it for protection. If Sirius tried to make her go with Lily and James, she could escape and take care of herself once more.

But she didn't want to. She wanted to stay here. Sirius was kind, and he made her laugh, and nothing had to be so hard here. Sirius said that he loved her. How could she ever dream to try and leave him.

"What if I never want to go to them?" She asked quietly, raising her eyes to challenge Sirius "Will you make me leave then? You'll let me stay, but if it's too long and I don't change my mind, you'll-"

"How long did I tell you that you could stay?" Sirius cut her off.

"You said..."

"How long, Dahlia?"