Chapter 9: A Sirius Discussion

A part of me had changed, that I was sure of now, at the end of another’s life, I felt nothing, just relief, just satisfaction.

My father and I stood together at the ministry's entrance, his arm wrapped gently around my shoulder as we looked on at a tidal wave of reporters shouting questions.  In the wall of noise, there were questions about what my Father would do now, about our relationship, and others that were subsumed in a wall of noise. I almost expected recriminations, but for now, there was nothing.

I didn’t expect that to last, but even now I didn’t regret what I had done.

My Father’s gaze was locked onto me, drinking me in, his grey eyes swirling pools as he gazed at me; his face, though, was hard as he looked out at the reporters, and his grip tightened on my shoulder for a moment.

Dumbledore moved through the crowd up to the pair of us, his eyes darker and grimmer than I had seen before, “Lord Black, Heir Black, if I might have a moment?” he asked softly.

My Father’s eyes flicked to Dumbledore, his expression inscrutable, not from a lack of emotion but too many emotions flitting across his face and colliding to figure out what the man was thinking.

My Father looked at me for a moment, and our eyes met, and despite that this man was a stranger, that he should be unknowable to me, understanding passed between us.

“Of course, Dumbledore,” Sirius said softly.

We turned together, walking away from the crowd of reporters and back to the office of Auror Bones, where we had come through. The woman herself was sitting in the office, and she and Dumbledore exchanged a look before the door closed behind us.

Dumbledore turned to look at the pair of us, his lips quirked down in a frown, before finally he spoke, “It’s good to see you again, Sirius.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side, his lips twisting up in a familiar smirk that I had found often on my face, “Is it Dumbledore?” he asked, his voice dry, almost crackly.

Dumbledore sighed, and for a moment, he looked entirely his age, “I have done you a great disservice. I did my best to get you a trial, and even though I found myself stonewalled at every corner, that does not assuage my guilt for what I’ve forced you and your son to go through. I am sorry.”

My Father regarded Dumbledore for a long moment. There was anger on his face, but there was also resignation. He sighed, “You couldn’t have known. We kept it a secret from everybody, and the secrets we kept backfired spectacularly, it seems.”

Dumbledore sighed, “Why did you go after Peter Pettigrew that night, Sirius? You could have waited, informed someone, anyone.”

My Father grimaced, and he sighed softly, “I was not in my right mind, my Wife was dead and now so was my Best Friend, I-“ he looked at me guilt in his eyes, “I don’t know what happened I couldn’t remember much during the last few months before Voldemort was defeated, it was like large sections of my mind had been carved out, I swear I don’t know how, but I forgot you Antares.”

Despite myself, I rested a hand on my Father’s arm, giving the man a soft smile, pushing away the pained part of the expression that wanted to creep through, “It was Mom’s spell, a modified fidelius; everyone forgot me.”

“Marlene did that?” he asked softly, looking bewildered.

I nodded softly, “I only just remembered myself.”

Sirius looked dumbstruck, and his face went pale, now looking even more unhealthy. Finally, he spoke, “I remember, he came for the McKinnons. Marlene was visiting. I had asked her not to go; I told her I couldn’t protect her there. She said that she’d be fine, she’d be safe, and she took you with her, and then… I forgot- everything I… I didn’t think I had anymore to lose…” he trailed off helplessly.

Tears were building in his eyes, and I froze for the briefest of moments before, gingerly, I reached out, wrapping the man in a hug, “I’m sorry, Dad,” I said simply, the words inadequate, but I had no idea of what else to say.

Sirius froze under my grip for a moment before, slowly, almost gingerly, he wrapped an arm around my back.

A moment of silence passed through the room before Dumbledore spoke again, his blue eyes focusing on me. He wasn’t cheerful, but he also wasn’t as angry as I was expecting. “Why did you decide to take matters into your hands regarding Peter Pettigrew? Was Azkaban not punishment enough?”

I regarded the man, wondering how much I should say, how much I should hide, before deciding the truth was for the best, “I did what was necessary to ensure Pettigrew would never harm anyone again. From what I know of Azkaban, it was a mercy.”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes flickered for a moment, seeming to think through my words and their meaning. Finally, he spoke again, “It’s a heavy burden you’ve taken upon yourself, Mr. Black,” he said solemnly, “It’s not one I would wish on any wizard or witch, especially a student, but there’s no use discussing things that won’t change,” the man sighed his blue eyes remaining dim as they looked at me, “As the school year is already all but over, I will leave it up to your Father if he wishes for you to return, given you would be taking the train this coming Monday regardless.”

Sirius spoke, his voice crackling slightly, “My son and I have much to do. He will be staying with me.”

Dumbledore dipped his chin slightly, “As you say, Sirius, then I’ll leave any other discussions to a later date.”

I was thrown off by the decision being made for me, but I realized that was really a parental prerogative that I was just used to not existing for me.

Sirius stood and looked to me for a moment, and I followed him, quickly rising to my own feet.

“Dumbledore,” Sirius said gruffly, nodding his head to my headmaster before turning to walk free of the room.

I hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with Dumbledore for a long moment as he looked at me. I didn’t have any real words to say to the man. It didn’t feel as if we were on opposite sides, but while we had similar goals, I thought our methodologies were further apart than I had conceptualized.

“Goodbye, Headmaster,” I said before turning to follow my father out of the room.

I stepped out of the room and had to restrain a flinch as my Father’s hand settled on my shoulder, but it was a gentle pressure as he led us out of the Auror office, back down the elevators to the Ministry Atrium. The crowd of reporters remained, but they quickly made way for the two of us, even as they shouted questions at my Father and me. He led us through them to a wizard who was regarding us nervously behind a counter.

Sirius held out his hand regarding the man with a baleful look, “Wand,” he said gruffly.

The wizard fumbled around for a moment underneath the counter before he pulled free a smooth, grey wand, which he handed to Sirius. I tasted the rush of magic through my Father’s body as he breathed a sigh of what sounded like relief.

“That’s better,” he mumbled before we walked to one of the public apparition points behind the grates, and he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Ever side along apparated before Antares?” he asked.

I nodded my head, “Yeah,” I replied, unsure of what other words to say.

Sirius nodded his head once, and the space around us twisted, and frozen grapes filled my mouth before we reappeared in a familiar alley next to the Leaky Cauldron.

Sirius breathed a deep breath, sucking in the warm summer air into his lungs with a more relaxed expression on his face, “That’s better, isn’t it?” his face broke into an uncharacteristically soft grin as we began to walk out of the alley.

I nodded my head, a little unsure despite myself. The man was my Father, but he was also a complete stranger.

Though at the same time, in a strange way, I felt that I understood the man better than anyone in my life.

We walked into the Leaky Cauldron and immediately eyes locked upon us, before they seemed to dismiss him in the next instant, perhaps not realizing exactly who he was, though I noted a couple of appreciative looks from some witches towards my Father.

My Father seemed completely immune; he looked at Tom and gave a nod as we walked through, “Afternoon, Tom,” he remarked dryly.

Tom nodded his head slowly as he polished his glass with sweeps of his cloth, seemingly dumbstruck, seemingly recognizing my Father for who he was. “Afternoon, Mr. Black,” he mumbled, glancing at the other wizards and witches in the pub, seemingly attempting to draw information from his patrons from his eyes alone to reconcile the events he was seeing.

At his words, more heads turned, and whispers blew through the tavern as the last name drew attention.

I noticed my Father’s lips quirked up the smallest amount, and it struck me that my Father was enjoying the reactions of the Wizards and Witches around us

His eyes flicked to me, and instead of his smile disappearing, it grew just the smallest bit wider before he ruffled my hair, “And I suppose you’ve met my son Antares,” he remarked cheerfully.

“Ares,” the words escaped my lips before I really thought them through, and Sirius looked at me, surprised. “I go by Ares,” I remarked.

Sirius chuckled, “Your Mother and I named you Antares, and you won’t even let your poor old Father call you by that name?”

“I-“ I hesitated now, unsure of how to respond, keenly aware of the eyes of the other patrons on us.

Sirius chuckled again, shaking his head, “Ares it is,” he said easily, before nodding at Tom, “Be seeing you around, Tom.”

He began walking, and I hurried to keep up with the man.

We exited out the back of the pub, and I took the moment of relative privacy to get a word in, “What’re we doing here?” I asked him.

Sirius smiled faintly at me, “We’re here to see about our housing for the Summer. Got a specific country you like?”

He said it so casually, an amused smile twisted my lips.

I looked at the man, “We’re not staying in Britain?” I asked while at the same time realizing I needed to tell him about Iris.

Sirius chuckled, though it wasn’t an amused sound, “I think I’d like some sun, somewhere to see the sky, France perhaps? Do you think Iris would enjoy such a place?” his sentence ended questioningly to me as he raised an eyebrow at me.

I looked at the man, surprised for a moment. I hadn’t told him yet about the magic protection regarding Iris, but the man had already seemed to take it into account, or he had no idea, and Iris was to join us because of who she was, regardless.

Sirius blinked, looking at it with some level of confusion, his eyes darkening slightly, “That is fine, right?” he asked, “She’s my goddaughter, I promised James I would take care of her, you get along with her, right?”

Ah, so he didn’t know, shouldn’t have assumed, though right now it was immaterial.

My half smirk twisted my face, and I shrugged my shoulders, “We’re friends,” I said teasingly, not expanding on the information.

“Friends?” Sirius cocked his head before a smirk that matched my own slipped across his face, “Got a crush?” he asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I snorted despite myself and shook my head, “Way too early for that, Dad,” I chided the older man.

Sirius blinked, looking dumbstruck by my words for some reason, his smirk twisting into an expression of surprise, his lips slightly agape, before he shook himself, seemingly coming back to the moment, “So France?” he asked with a grin, tapping the bricks of the alley with his wand.

“Do you even speak French?” I couldn’t help but ask, amusement coloring my tone.

Sirius snorted, “Tojours Pur,” our family motto is in French, he raised an eyebrow at me as if to challenge my statement.

I kept looking at him, almost certain that it couldn’t be the whole of it.

Sirius's lips twisted into a full smile for an instant before he let out a bark of laughter, “Enough to get food, housing, and alcohol, how much do you really need?”

A sudden laugh burst from my lungs unexpectedly, and Sirius’s eyes twinkled as he looked at me, “Yeah, you’re my son.”

He ruffled my hair and we stepped through the newly opened entrance into Diagon Alley.

We walked through the street, slipping around other Witches and Wizards who barely gave us a glance.

As we walked through Diagon Alley, I noted a couple of glances towards us, but as I assumed we looked like a classic family of pureblood wizards, there was no reaction. I was surprised for a moment before I realized Tom was likely an exception to recognizing Sirius Black out of hand; it had been almost twelve years.

My Father led us to a small out-of-the-way office emblazoned with the sign, ‘Hamlin’s Realty: Making Dreams a Reality.”

Through the door we strode, and a small chime occurred as my Father looked about his eyes, flicking about in a way that seemed more akin to checking the room for possible danger than actual interest.

A stooped man emerged from the back of the office, looking up at us with a somewhat mystified expression.

“Can I help you?” he croaked out.

“Hamlin, I presume?” My Father asked, “I need an agent to see about getting a property in Southern France, somewhere by the ocean,” he began abruptly.

Hamlin looked bewildered, his eyes flicking to me for a moment, before going back to my Father, “I’m sorry, this is a little irregular. May I ask who I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“Sirius Black,” my father held out his hand to shake, which Hamlin took somewhat numbly, his eyes widening slightly, a flicker of fear appearing in them, “Recently exonerated,” my father finished, a painful sounding amusement to his tone.

Hamlin nodded slowly, nodding his head up and down slowly as he looked at the man who certainly did not look like a prisoner of the worst prison in Wizarding Britain, even if he was a little thin, and the young boy next to him.

Propriety won out, it seemed, as the man began to launch into a spiel about Wizarding Estates in France. I was a little taken aback that the man had places on hand to bring up, and I was uncertain whether to chalk that up to the insular closeness of the wizarding world or that it was not uncommon for Wizarding Elite to desire purchase of realty in another country, therefore the offices were used to making it happen.

The man was flicking through a magazine to two pictures of gorgeous-looking estates, each one looking much the same to me, expansive, with a wide variety of amenities.

“These two are the best ones on the market right now,” the man said, “They’re even in a highly desirable area clustered near some of the prominent French wizarding families.”

“How desirable,” My father remarked, and I could practically taste the dry sarcasm that dripped from his words, even as Hamlin nodded agreeably to my father.

My Father reached out and flipped a couple more pages, scanning rapidly through them before his eyes lit up as it seemed he found something, though the expression seemed almost false in a way, “Full suite of privacy wards, is this true?” he asked the man, pointing at a chateau set against the backdrop of what looked like an overgrown vineyard.

Hamlin looked down at the property my Father had pointed at, looking slightly surprised and somewhat nervous, “That property hasn’t been occupied in some time, many decades actually, the previous occupant died in the Global Wizarding War after leaving the property and its full suite of security and privacy wards behind, to fight with Grindlewald. It’s not priced very well, far too expensive for the average wizard or witch for a property of that size due to the extensive warding, I mean, really, who needs that much protection?” Hamlin gave a dry chuckle, looking at my Father as if expecting him to agree.

“How long to get it ready?” My Father replied, not missing a beat.

Hamlin’s face dropped, looking down at the property before looking back up at my Father, seeming to realize he had just been offered a sale.

“Well, the wardbreakers will have to lock the wards onto you, and there is some deal of maintenance of the grounds that must be done; there’s no elf to maintain the property, and while the building itself stasis enchantments are still in place, it’s certainly not a modern construction.”

Sirius shook his head, a grin on his face, “But there’s not a single other property in your catalog that has the same security, is there?”

Hamlin blinked, then looked down at the magazine, seemingly thinking over my Father’s question, “No,” he finally admitted, “None that’s currently for sale, but even this one-“

My Father looked at me, raising an eyebrow, “What do you think, Ares?” he asked.

I picked up the magazine, blown away for the moment by how rapidly my Father was moving, looking over the pictures available that moved throughout the house.

It was what one imagined a classic French chateau to be, and the warm sunlight lit the black and white photograph in a way that made the vineyards as overgrown and weed-ridden as they looked have a certain luster.

I looked back at the man and had the impression that the entirety of what happened next rested on my words.

“It’s not bad,” I said, “I could see us living here.” Honestly, I had been sold as I heard about the security protections, the location was great, and anything else was a detail that could be fixed later.

Sirius nodded his head, an easy smile on his face, “I agree,” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a sheaf of parchment, and handed it to Hamlin, “I’m the buyer who contacted you about this property a month ago. I assume everything’s gone through.”

A look of blinding relief flicked onto Hamlin’s face as he released a gusty breath, “Ah, I see you were the buyer, apologies, Mr. Black.”

I noticed my Father’s lips twitch upward as he looked at the other man, and it was clear to me that he had purposely been messing with the man. Making him worry about explaining that a property had already been sold to a prospective client.

“The key ward stone then?” My Father asked leadingly.

Hamlin pulled out a locked box, which he offered to my Father, “A bit of blood on the lid will do it.”

My Father pulled out his wand and tapped it to his thumb, placing it against the silver lock, and a flash of light occurred, and I felt a bit of my Father’s magic, very similar in taste to my own, connect with something inside his chest.

“The property is yours, Mr. Black,” Hamlin said, bowing slightly, “We can also connect you to any services that you need for your property’s upkeep.”

Sirius chuckled, though it was dry and there was no feeling in it, “I’m sure my son and I can handle it.”

He tucked the box under his arm and turned, walking out of the office, followed rapidly by me as I was processing what had just happened.

We stepped outside, and I looked at my Father, raising an eyebrow at him, “What was that really about?” I asked.

My Father’s smile slipped away to a small smirk, and he raised an eyebrow at me, “What do you think it was about?”

I contemplated him for a moment, “You wanted me to agree before you bought the property, I don’t know why, though.”

Sirius’s smile took on a more real note as he ruffled my hair, “I spent all my life, to the latter part of my teenage years, living in a house I hated,” he said quietly, “Then I lived at the Potters, but that place is...” Sirius took a deep, steadying breath. “Well, it’s gone, I needed something to do in Saint Mungos and I knew I needed a place for Iris to live and then well… I remembered you and I wanted you to be the one to decide where we would live as a family.”

The words were weighty, filled with emotion that I didn’t know how to respond to yet, so for lack of a better option, I circled my arms around my father briefly before retracting.

Sirius clapped me lightly on the shoulder and said cheerfully, “Let’s get home then, we've got a busy Weekend getting the place ready for Iris.”

Right, I nodded my head, grateful for directing the still unsaid emotions and weight to something productive.

“I should write Iris, let her know what the plan is before we leave.”

Sirius nodded his head seriously before something glinted in his eyes, “Care for a bit of advice from your Father?”

I cocked my head, looking at the man, confused and intrigued by the spark in his eyes.

“I’m not opposed,” I replied.

Sirius’s teeth flashed, and he chuckled.

-

It had been two days, ten hours, and thirteen minutes since Iris Potter had last seen Antares Black. It had been two days, five hours, and ten minutes since she had received his letter informing her he would be meeting her on the train platform with a surprise, as well as apologizing for leaving with so little notice. It had been two days, three hours, and four minutes since the evening paper had informed the Wizarding World that Sirius Black, betrayer of her parents to Lord Voldemort, dark wizard extraordinaire.

Was exonerated.

Her parents' actual betrayer, one Peter Pettigrew, had been found alive and given his testimony before being executed by one Antares Black under the Old Law, something Hermione had informed her in hushed tones as a unique pureblood invention to solve grudges and feuds, superior in right to the actual law.

Something that Hemione thought was terrifying and horrifyingly barbaric.

Iris had found herself tracing her fingers over Ares' picture as he stood side by side with the man who was apparently his Father. Despite their age difference, the resemblance was apparent to anyone with eyes: the dark hair, the handsome features.

The cloudy grey eyes.

Summarily, it had been two days, three hours, and one minute since Iris had begun contemplating how she would deal with this new information. Her heart had essentially frozen in her chest, something choking her voice.

She had long since stopped holding Ares' parentage against him; in all honesty, she didn’t even consider it anymore, not since their winter holiday together. You couldn’t control who you were related to; she was unfortunately related to the Dursleys, and she wouldn’t want someone to hold that against her.

But- this was worse, now that Sirius Black was vindicated, it met every presumption she had was wrong. It was all in the article in sordid detail that Sirius Black had wanted to avenge her Father and Mother and spent eleven long years in prison for attempting to do so, how in fact it had been Ares who had captured Peter Pettigrew, which meant since Halloween Ares had known of his Father’s innocence.

A small voice flickered at the back of her mind.

Did Ares hate her? What if Ares were angry? Why hadn’t he told her? Now that he knew she had treated him wrongly, now that he knew his family had been treated wrongly by the world on behalf of her parents.

Would he hate her?

The question echoed reverberating in her head. The thought clogged her throat and chest, making it difficult to breathe. She knew intellectually it didn’t make sense. Ares was kind, kinder than anyone.

Ares had said he had a surprise for her; his words in the letter had been gentle and kind as always. Some part of her knew she had tied herself into knots for no reason.

Ares had said they would understand when the news came out, but all she could think was how she missed him, how Hogwarts felt colder without him.

The train ride passed with Neville and Hermione chatting somewhat softly about their summers, though the talk was strained by the recent news and its effect on her, their eyes flicking towards her every so often as if to check she had not spontaneously combusted.

She figured if her magic thrummed any harder under her skin, it was likely.

The hours passed, and early morning turned to mid-afternoon, and finally she felt the train slowing.

She grabbed her luggage and found herself pushing through the crowd out of the train, looking rapidly about the platform.

It didn’t take her but a second; her magic surged through her veins, drawing her to look where, off to the side, stood a handsome, dark-haired man, a gentle hand placed on the shoulder of a similarly dark-haired boy with equally cloudy grey eyes.

Her eyes were not the only ones drawn to the two of them; the looks shot their way, somewhat trepidation, interest, and something else notable from the older woman directed at the man, who must be Ares' father.

All this Iris took in a moment before she realized she was sprinting forward, dragging her luggage behind her, breaking through the crowd, and letting go of her trunk to wrap Ares in a rib-cracking hug.

Distantly, she realized her vision was blurry, hot, wet, and salty liquid was trailing into her mouth, and she was mumbling words that weren’t even intelligible to her.

“’m Sorry, ‘m so sorry.”

Ares' lips quirked in a small frown as he instantly returned her hug, wrapping his arms far more gently in return around her, “Iris? What’s wrong?”

Iris tried to suck in a breath and speak, but she realized she didn’t know what to say, how to make things right.

Ares was looking at her with concern apparent in his grey eyes, “Iris,” he said again, “Everything’s okay,” he said softly, soothingly, his words vibrating through his chest into her, “Meet the surprise, your Godfather, my Father.”

Iris’s chest eased, and she realized she was breathing more easily. Somehow, the words that should have surprised her even more were doing the opposite: “You’re my godfather?” she asked the older man.

The man smiled, and the smile eased the pain in her chest a little bit more. It was just like Ares’ smile. “Your Father and I were good friends. Ares and I have been busy getting things ready for you to live with us,” he smiled warmly.

Iris opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. Dumbledore had said she would be living with Ares, but this…

Ares smiled at her, “We’ve been really busy preparing it, but the house is ready now.”

Iris nodded, unsure of what to say, of words to express her emotions right now. She realized people were looking at her, and instinctually she buried her face in Ares’ chest. She didn’t want anyone else to see her like this, this weakness; the Dursleys had always punished tears.

The Dursleys.

She took several deep breaths, mentally apologizing to Ares as she dried her face in his shirt, pressing into his warmth for a moment, then she looked up, “The Dursleys are supposed to be picking me up. I haven’t told them yet I’ll be leaving. Sending Hedwig didn’t seem like it would work.”

The words wrenched free of her lips unwillingly, she could think of nothing less she wanted to do, but they had to know she wasn’t coming.

And maybe the smallest part of her wanted to be able to see them, knowing that she would never have to again.

She saw a look exchanged between Ares and his Father, something passing between them in an instant, before Ares looked back at her, “Is there anything you have at their house that you want?”

Iris shook her head, “I took everything I wanted with me to Hogwarts.”

Not that she had a lot to take, in a way, it was a blessing she could fit her entire life into her trunk, though she had never really thought of it that way before.

“Good,” Sirius remarked gruffly, “Then this conversation will be simple.”

He gestured them forward toward the pillar that divided the platform from the Muggle world.

Iris bit her lip, wondering if she could convince them that there was really no need to say anything, the Dursleys wouldn’t care, and she doubted they would stick around long; they would be looking for any excuse to not take her home.

She decided to remain silent for now. She had Ares with her, and hadn’t Dumbledore said he was protecting her now?

Ares' hand found hers and gently squeezed it before pulling her along after Sirius exited the platform rapidly, the people around them making space like there was a magic bubble around them.

Out into the Muggle world they stepped, and her eyes locked on the Dursleys instantly, barely restraining a flinch as she saw Vernon, the scars along her back tingling ever so slightly.

Ares' hand on hers tightened, and she glanced up at him to see stormy grey eyes as he looked at her, his expression completely impassive.

“That’s them, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

She had never told him about the beatings, the starvation, the labor. Really, she thought she was lucky; she knew enough to know it could have been worse as far as abuse went, that they could have hurt her in ways far worse. She wondered if it was her magic, her mother’s sacrifice, the blood wards, or something else that had held them at bay there, but she couldn’t be certain.

Slowly, she nodded, her hand seizing even harder on Ares. She didn’t have to go back; she wouldn’t be going back.

Sirius seemed to hear them, and he stepped forward, letting them follow in his wake as he walked up to the Dursleys, a smile she thought unique to Ares spreading across his face, though at the same time this smile was colder, something twisting it to fury.

He came to a stop in front of him, and Vernon’s beady blue eyes focused upon the man before they fell to the side and landed on Iris before flicking back to Sirius, then back to Iris.

“Survived, have you?” he growled gruffly, his eyes flashing in an emotion that Iris didn’t know how to quantify but made her uncomfortable.

Ares’s hand squeezed down on her own, and he stepped forward slightly, speaking softly but loud enough for everyone there to hear, “Well, Dad, what’s the verdict?”

“What-“ Vernon began an exclamation before he froze his eyes, becoming distant, and his mouth fell open as Sirus looked directly into his eyes.

Petunia froze in seeming terror, and Dudley squeaked, covering his bottom as it seemed whatever passed for instinct in his mind informed him that Sirius was doing something of a magical nature.

Several tens of seconds passed before Sirius blinked, looking at Ares. His voice was dry and crackly, something caged in his tone, “You were right, Ares,” his words clipped, no longer easy-going and friendly, though that wasn’t quite right, his previous words had just been masked, Iris realized.

“Then, as we discussed, I think,” Ares said softly.

Sirius nodded his head, and something like a smile carved across his face, just like one of Ares’s expressions, but this one was darker, hateful.

Vernon seemed to recover himself, and Iris saw something approaching fear flash through his beady eyes as he looked at Sirius.

“The bloody hell did you do?” he whispered.

Sirius shook his head, his dark curtain of hair swaying about him, “That’s not the question you should be asking,” he said gravely, “You should be wondering how your family will provide for itself for the next ten years you spend in prison.”

Vernon’s face turned purple as it often did when he was angry, and his fists seized, “You’re threatening me! You’re threatening my family! After all we did for that ungrateful swine of a child!”

Iris noted that Vernon, for now, was modulating his volume, likely because they were in public, but Sirius didn’t seem to have the same concern, as suddenly his wand had appeared in his hand and was pressed to Vernon’s forehead.

Vernon froze, his eyes widening, Petunia shrieked, and Dudley whimpered.

Despite these happenings, Muggles continued to walk by as if nothing was occurring, as if this area of Kings Cross did not quite exist.

Sirius spoke softly, but his words were clear and audible despite their surroundings: “Iris Potter will be living with me and my son from now on.” He turned his head to look at Iris, ”Iris, it’s your decision what you want done with them.”

Iris froze her eyes, locking on the Dursleys, who were now looking at her with clear looks of fear in their eyes, unsure of what words she would say.

Iris’s gut clenched as something hateful flared in her, and her head pounded for the briefest of moments before, in the next moment, she released a breath, her hand locking down onto Ares’s hand.

“Nothing,” she said softly, “I just don’t want to see them again, can we-“ she hesitated, looking directly at Sirius, “Can we just leave?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and then looked at Ares for a moment, something flashing between them that Iris didn’t understand, before Sirius nodded his head once, “Of course, Iris,” he said softly.

They walked away, and at some point, Iris realized she could breathe normally again and her grip on Ares's hand loosened infinitesimally, only to feel Ares's hand twist to hold hers more securely.

“Are you alright?” Ares asked softly, a thumb trailing gently over the back of her hand.

Mutely, Iris nodded her head.

“I’m sorry,” Ares said, “I thought you should decide. I wanted to give you the chance for closure.”

Iris nodded slowly, still taking deep breaths, but each breath was easier the further they got from the Dursleys. She was free; she wouldn’t be going back.

Though she couldn’t help but wonder at the expression that Ares and his father had exchanged.

-

I steadied Iris with a gentle palm as she stumbled from the landing of the portkey, looking rather woozily about as she almost face planted.

Sirius was on her other side, breathing a deep gusty breath as he looked out onto the late afternoon sun onto the coast where waves gently lapped at the beach below the cliffside.

“What do you think?” Sirius asked, and I noted the excitement in the man’s voice, almost childishly plaintive as he looked at Iris.

Iris looked about, and her mouth fell open the smallest amount.

Despite myself, I winced slightly, “The fields still need a bit of work, we’re planning on planting grapes, but negotiations have been slow as we look for a good one to transplant for the wine we’ll be making.”

The fields right now were barren, cleared of their former detritus from serious wand work performed by Sirius and me, underage magic detection apparently not working on their privately warded property.

The chateau sat further back, gleaming white stone, cleaned and prepared hastily by Sirius and me. We had indeed been working up to just about when we went to pick Iris up from Platform 9 and 3/4.

By collective agreement, both my Father and I agreed we would not be getting a House Elf; any misgivings about slavery I had were completely aside, I didn’t particularly fancy having a potential security flaw by allowing a House Elf into the home whose loyalty could not be assured.

Plus, it wasn’t like the work we had been doing had been all that strenuous; in a way, it had been kind of fun using magic so practically.

Iris’s face had lit into a small smile as she looked around her, “This is your home?” she asked me.

I shook my head, giving her a small, genuine smile, “Our home, not just mine, yours, my dad’s.”

Iris blinked, looking taken aback, before she grinned, something small but happy in her eyes, “It’s perfect!” she exclaimed.

Sirius chuckled and reached down to ruffle her hair, only to smoothly transition to gesturing at the house as an Iris flinched infinitesimally, “You haven’t even seen the inside yet!”

He walked backward a couple of steps, gesturing her onward, “We’ll give you the tour, huh?” he offered.

Iris glanced at me with a somewhat questioning look on her face, which I only responded to with a smile, “Come on, it’ll make the old man happy,” I encouraged.

“Who’re you calling old?” Sirius growled playfully at me, ruffling my hair, and I looked up at the man in amusement.

“You, old man.”

Sirius growled playfully and tweaked my nose, his eyes momentarily glancing at Iris, who was looking on in amusement at the pair of us, before he looked back at me with a soft, satisfied smile.

“So?” he asked Iris again.

Iris blinked, looking surprised as she seemed to realize it was a genuine question. She hesitated for a moment, looking about, before she nodded her head firmly, “Yeah,” she said, “I’d like to see this place.”

Despite the fact that the land that surrounded the chateau was massive, the chateau itself was only of moderate size, at least compared to the land.

We strolled through an open courtyard with a fountain that had only just begun to run again, entering through a pair of open double doors, the air immediately changing from the warm summer heat to something thick and cool, carrying a faint, earthy scent of the marble around us mixed with the ever-present sea salt in the air.

The marble floor we strolled across was worn smooth from centuries of foot traffic, leading to a sweeping, double-helix staircase of dark, polished wood that led to the upper floors.

Iris glanced at the walls, seemingly taking note of honey-colored stone blocks that had been revealed after Sirius and I had hastily stripped the silk-damask wallpaper from the walls with all the grace and care of wizards who had never done home renovation before, even with wands as assistance.

To our left was a cavernous parlor, featuring a vast, cold stone fireplace that took up an entire wall. About the room was furniture, a mix of heavy, antique French pieces that Sirius and I hadn’t removed yet.

Though in a corner of the room, there were a few newer, more comfortable, overstuffed sofas Sirius had purchased, the same colors as the Gryffindor common room.

Iris drifted further inside, and we followed sunlight streams dancing over her through immense, tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Visible through them the view of the cleared vineyard slopes and the sea.

We drifted through the kitchen, where a large stove resided along with other various kitchen amenities that had been hastily purchased. Next to the kitchen counters was a large table, enough to seat four or five people.

“Want to see the upstairs?” Sirius asked after a couple of minutes of Iris looking around the kitchen.

The girl turned, looking surprised, but then rapidly nodded.

We returned to the entrance hall and took the stairs up, and Sirius directed us to the left, “Sorry, we haven’t quite finished the right side,” he admitted, with a sheepish smirk.

There were six bedrooms on this side, though we had only filled three of them.

We drifted by Sirius’s room first, where the door was open, showing a somewhat messy room, some clothes and robes strewn about, though still somewhat spartan, a smell of old leather and a taste of ozone emerging from it. There was a large, warded closet he had purchased.

We walked past the door and further down the hallway, passing another bedroom, which was mine. The ceiling was high, with dark wooden beams on the ceiling that crisscrossed each other. The reason I had chosen the room was that on the far side was a massive window, which offered a sweeping view of the coastal cliffs and the ocean. My room was currently stacked with books and my open trunk, which Dumbledore had retrieved for me, a single, heavy desk set in the corner, and pages of notes scrawled across the desk.

Finally, we arrived at the hallway where an open door showcased Iris’s room. The window was swung open, and there was a balcony door also open to overlook the hastily replotted rose garden below the window. The room was still relatively sparsely furnished with only a new, four-poster bed and a massive wardrobe and closet, along with a privately attached bathroom, as the rest of the bedrooms also had.

I heaved Iris’s trunk into the room, setting it down as I turned around to gesture grandly, “Sorry,” I said, “We weren’t sure what you wanted your room to look like, so we thought we would let you decide when you got here.”

Iris looked about with wide eyes, mouth gaping slightly, before seemingly she shook herself and she smiled, brightly, genuinely, “It’s perfect,” she said again, simply this time her words soft.

Sirius stood leaning against the doorway, his mouth twisted into a soft smile as he looked at us, his eyes far away, “Welcome home, kiddo,” he said warmly.

Iris’s eyes glistened, but she blinked rapidly, turning away a bit, and Sirius and I exchanged looks.

“We should go prepare dinner, Dad,” I said.

Sirius nodded agreeably, “I’ve found some new French recipes-“ he said leadingly.

I snorted, shaking my head, “Actual recipes or throw two bricks of butter in?”

“Quelle est la difference?” my Father shrugged his shoulders unrepentantly.

“I’ll help!” Iris exclaimed, and we both turned to look at the girl whose eyes were slightly red but who was smiling brilliantly at the pair of us.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Sirius said with a smile.

Iris walked out of the room, leaving Sirius and me by ourselves, our eyes locking, and Sirius’s smile twisting slightly downward as we looked at each other.

“You’ll need some more Occlumency training,” my father remarked offhandedly.

I looked at the man, surprised, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not saying you’re bad, but my cousin’s cell was next to mine and even with her mind half-fractured, hers is still better,” he clapped me on the shoulder, giving me a warm smile, “You’re a Black, I’m sure you’ll improve quickly under your Father’s tutelage.”

I nodded my head, and I bit my lip slightly as I looked at him, “The compulsion will work?” I asked.

Sirius grinned at me, ruffling my hair and chuckling, “Yeah, he’s a muggle and not a particularly bright one, my family would have called him an easy target.”

I nodded my head.

“Ares!” Iris called out, and Sirius and I blinked, looking at each other in surprise and the smallest amounts of amusement.

Ares laughed to himself, a small smile on his face. It had been a strange year.

But he couldn’t help but feel like things were looking up.

-

Vernon Dursley's life was indeed looking up.

He whistled cheerfully as he fiddled with his new purchase, making sure it was entirely clean and ready for use.

Now that the Freak was out of their lives, his dear pet and wonderful son was doing much better without the freakish nonsense that the Freak brought with them. Dudley even had his second bedroom back!

A part of him was regretful that he would no longer have a place to vent his frustrations at the world, but really, it was for the best.

Setting his purchase down for the moment, Vernon Dursley tightened his tie, humming a couple of notes to himself. He really couldn’t shake this blissful feeling; it was as good as he had ever felt.

He checked the note he had written on the bedside table, nodding to himself before he lay down on his bed, taking his purchase and placing the barrel in his mouth.

Vernon Dursley’s life was looking up.

That was the last thing that went through Vernon Dursley’s head, other than, of course, the bullet.