The Half-Blood Black

Chapter One✨

I wake suddenly, I can feel the walls growing, only slightly but I've become accustomed to it. With the occasional visitors coming and going as they please, I've noticed that this townhouse reacts in the strangest ways. By my standards, whoever is making the walls move at this hour is not welcome.

Not by me at least.

I slip out of my bed that I claimed weeks ago and try my best to avoid the creaky wooden floorboards. Perhaps if I could ever get my American money to transfer over, and someone would let me out of this God forsaken home, I could do some renovating.

I'm in the hallway, the portraits of my estranged fathers family staring down at me darkly, when there is some mumbling and then a loud crash followed by yelling.

"Kreacher welcome nobody into the Black home!" Kreacher, the house elf I've become fond of, yells.

"Kreacher, have you forgotten it's me?! It's me, Sirius!" A deep unfamiliar voice echoes down below in the hallway.

My breath catches and the house seem to spin. I sway and grab onto the railing and slowly make my way down the steps. A tall man with gaunt eyes and black scraggly hair stands in front of the door attempting to yank off his muddy wet boots.

It can't be him. Can it? He's nothing like I imagined, but he's everything that I imagined all in one. The Order of the Phoenix has shown me photos, I've read the papers with his face on them. Grabbing the bars, screaming, a maniac in chains.

It's my father.

"Hey." I say, standing on the landing on at the bottom of the stairs. Sirius Black freezes, his eyes glued to the floor, at the puddle of water from his shoes.

Hey? Really? That's all you have? I really have the worst social issues ever. Thanks mom! My mind is moving a hundred miles a minute, I'm overthinking everything. I never knew he would actually show up.

I have been waiting for this moment my whole life. Since I was as young as I can remember I ached to know my father. There were years of remorse where I thought he had abandoned me.

Sirius, my father if he is being truthful, whips out his wand and points it at me, his eyes frightened and wild. "Who are you?" He barks.

I flinch, putting my hands up defensively, years of my mother's physical abuse making me jumpy. I take step a bit backwards, my feet on the edge where the stairs meet the step down into the kitchen.

"Hey." I say again, struggling to find the right words. His wand makes me nervous, I'm defenseless down here and he's much older, obviously seasoned and wise in the art of magic.

I open my mouth but can't find the right words. We're standing there, staring at each other. I'm more captivated by him than anything. Sirius Black, notorious murderer, escaped prisoner of Azkaban, a mad man, and more important than all that, my father.

My mouth hangs open and my skin flushes. Just say something God dammit!

"Wait." He says. He stands from the bench and takes a step forward. His hand lowers and his wand drops to the floor. "I know who you are ..."

Sirius stares back at me and I crack a small smile. We must look so silly. Spitting images of one another, our mouths hanging open, his coal black, sopping wet curls hanging to his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath and I do too, not realizing I've been holding in my breath this whole time.

My father walks toward me, and I take the step down into the kitchen, cautious of him. We don't have a relationship, everything I know I have learned from the people who have taken me in as their own. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora who goes by Tonks, the endless amount of Weasley's.

"Well, it is certainly nice to be meeting you." I spit out. My skin burns and my tongue feels heavy. My heart is pounding out of my chest.

"You've been here, all along?" He says in disbelief. He brushes a piece of his hair back into the top of his head, splattering water on his shoulders.

"No," I say, clearing my throat. "I haven't been here for more than a few weeks. Um ... I honestly don't even know what day it is."

Sirius nods silently. I'm getting nervous at his silence. I have been dreaming about the day I would meet my father since I was little. How he would scoop me into his arms and twirl me around, kissing my forehead. I never imagined we would look like each other.

"So ... Sirius Black." I say nonchalantly, kicking my leg over my other and leaning against the post between the kitchen and hallway.

"In the flesh." Sirius does a theatrical bow and comes up grinning. "I never thought this day would come. My daughter."

"How about you take a shower?" I blurt out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just so humid here from the constant rain and sweltering heat, I can't imagine you're comfortable."

"A shower ... it's been a bloody minute since I've been had one of those."

"I kept towels under the sink."

"I appreciate that."

—

Sirius sits across from me, shoveling pasta into his mouth. Molly Weasley has been grocery shopping for me, when she can't come by to drop off meals, I make my own. I've never seen someone eat so ravenously. I remember this hunger. I had been here at Grimmauld Place for 4 days before Remus showed up.

I stare at Sirius, each new similarity between us coming to light. I can thank him for my pasty skin, my wild, untamable hair, the nimble fingers. His hands are covered in tattoos, his skin gaunt, the years in the wizarding worlds version of Alcatraz wearing him down.

"Can I get you anything else, Sirius?" I say clearing my throat and tapping my nails against the mug of tea I've made myself. "May I call you that?"

"You'll have to excuse my manners I haven't had a good meal in forever and Azkaban just ... it drains you." He says, his eyes lifting to meet mine.

I look away and chew on my bottom lip, a bad habit I've acquired over the years.

"Kreacher doesn't like this...Kreacher doesn't like this one bit." Kreacher says from the broom closet as he fumbles with the broom, sweeping up nothing.

"Kreacher, if you would please excuse Sirius and I it would be greatly appreciated." I say smiling at him. His eyes soften a bit and he doesn't look so tense anymore. "How about you call it a night? You have been so incredibly helpful to me."

He nods and shuffles off, mumbling about how he doesn't agree. I hear the broom thumping up the steps and across the hallway floor until he is silent.

"Where is your mother?" Sirius says, breaking the silence that envelopes us.

I shake my head and take a deep breath. "She's dead. Tara was mentally ill, she killed herself and abandoned me here. But I'm basically an adult so it wasn't too bad."

Sirius is silent for a moment before hesitating and leaning forward again, his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. My father reaches his hands across the table and takes mine in his. They're rough, years and years of painful experiences on them. I clear my throat and lean back against the bench.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am for that. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for you. My parents were ill, in that way. I left home when I was a teenager to escape it." He says. He lets out another sigh and leans back as I do.

We stare at each other in silence, taking each other in. It's intimidating, but comforting. The silence is comforting between us. It's not the ideal way that 7 year old Lyra would have hoped for, but I've changed since then.

Staring at Sirius Black in silence is all I need.