Chapter Text
Saturday, 4th April
A week later, the castle had settled into an uneasy imitation of normalcy.
Lessons resumed, homework piled up, and rumours circulated in low, fervent whispers that never quite reached the professors’ ears - or, at least, never reached them in any way that could be proven.
The Headmaster’s chair remained conspicuously empty at the High Table, and even though Professor McGonagall filled the role with crisp efficiency, the absence of Albus Dumbledore lingered like a hairline crack in the foundation of the school.
Severus watched it all with detached amusement and more than a little smugness.
That weekend, he stepped from the Floo and into the cool, candlelit drawing room of the Dark Lord’s manor. The air smelled of cedar and old books and something sharper beneath it - anticipation, perhaps. The Dark Lord himself stood by the window, his pale profile outlined against the muted grey of the afternoon sky. He did not turn immediately, but Severus felt the familiar prickle at the back of his mind that meant he was already being observed.
“Severus” he said at last, voice quiet, “You are punctual, as always”.
“My lord” he replied, inclining his head.
A long, elegant finger tapped idly against the windowsill. “Tell me, how are the boy’s… lessons progressing?”
Severus allowed himself the smallest pause, as though considering how best to phrase it, though in truth the answer had been ready since their first session.
“As expected, my lord, he has taken to advanced Dark Magic with remarkable speed. Faster than any student I have ever taught before”.
The Dark Lord turned, dark eyes alight with interest. “Oh?”
“His control is precise, his instincts natural. He does not flinch from the theory, nor does he hesitate to apply it. He asks the right questions, and more importantly, he understands the answers”. A faint curl of pride touched Severus’s voice before he smoothed it away. “If he continues at this rate, it is entirely feasible that he could achieve a Mastery in the Dark Arts before he even graduates from Hogwarts”.
Silence followed, thick and contemplative.
Then, slowly, the Dark Lord smiled.
“Exceptional” he murmured, “Truly exceptional… Just as I knew he would be”.
There was no mistaking the satisfaction that threaded through his tone - not merely ambition, but something warmer, more personal, carefully hidden beneath layers of calculation.
“And as for Albus Dumbledore?” he asked next, the name spoken with cool disdain.
“Still confined to the hospital wing, my lord” Severus replied with more than a little relish, “Madam Pomfrey insists on extended observation. Magical exhaustion, lingering after-effects from the blast, the odd injury here and there that magic can’t fix instantly... He is expected to remain there for another two or three weeks at minimum”.
“And the school?”
“Running more smoothly than it has in years” he said dryly, “Minerva McGonagall has assumed the position of Acting Headmistress. Discipline has tightened, rules are adhered to, and there has been a notable decrease in… theatrics, shall we say”.
A low, amused sound escaped the Dark Lord.
“How ironic. Remove the master manipulator from the board, and the game finally begins to function properly…” He began to pace slowly, robes whispering over the stone floor. “What about the Order? Do they suspect anything?”
“Lily Potter is convinced the attack was the work of a Death Eater” Severus said, lips thinning almost imperceptibly, “However, both Black and Lupin have dismissed the idea rather forcefully. Without their support, the rest of the Order appears unwilling to act on her suspicions”.
That gave him pause, and his maroon gaze sharpened even as his voice came softer. “Black and Lupin… Curious allies”.
He inclined his head slightly. “My lord, there is… something further in that regard I believe you should be aware of".
The pacing stopped.
Severus chose his next words with care, laying them out like pieces on a chessboard. “Following the incident with the Headmaster and Lily Potter, Black and Lupin confronted me regarding what I knew of the boy. During that conversation, they made it explicitly clear that their loyalty lies with Haedus, not with Dumbledore”.
“They said this plainly?”
“They did”.
“And you believe them?”
Severus met his gaze evenly. “I do, my lord. Their behaviour since has been consistent with that admission. They do not trust Dumbledore’s intentions toward the boy, and they appear… disillusioned with the Order as a whole”.
The Dark Lord was silent for a long moment, expression unreadable.
“Sirius Black” he mused at last, “The only son of one of the oldest and Darkest families in Britain - the same family that Bellatrix and Narcissa once belonged to... And yet, from what I know, he cast himself as a Gryffindor rebel and ran to Dumbledore’s side the first chance he could…” A faint, knowing smile ghosted across his lips. “Perhaps he is finally remembering whose blood runs through his veins”.
“And Lupin, his partner, is a werewolf” Severus added quietly, “Our side has always been more… accommodating of such creatures than Dumbledore’s ever was, regardless of what he publicly claims”.
The dark eyes flicked back to him, assessing, calculating. “... You think they could be converted”.
It was a statement rather than a question. Severus replied anyway.
“I think” he said carefully, “that they are already halfway there. Their primary concern is the boy’s well-being. If they become convinced that his safety - and future - are better secured with us than with Dumbledore, their allegiance may shift permanently”.
The Dark Lord considered this in silence, long fingers steepled beneath his chin. Finally, he inclined his head in a slow, deliberate nod.
“I will… think on the matter” he said, “Black and Lupin are valuable pieces, if they can be turned without compromising our position. But you will remember, Severus, that the boy’s safety comes before all other considerations - before strategy, before politics, and certainly before potential allies”.
Severus bowed his head without hesitation. “Of course, my lord”.
The Dark Lord’s gaze drifted briefly toward the hearth, as though he could somehow see through the green flames all the way back to the castle, to the dungeons, to the boy currently bent over his homework with ink-stained fingers and a serpent draped around his shoulders.
“Continue his lessons” he said at last, “Watch him. Guide him. If Dumbledore attempts anything further, then you will inform me immediately”.
“Yes, my lord” Severus promised, and though his voice remained smooth and composed, there was steel beneath it now - the same quiet, lethal resolve he had felt the moment he’d seen the terrified child curled up in that armchair a week before.
Monday, 13th April
Morning sunlight spilt lazily across the small sitting room, catching on dust motes and the worn edges of old furniture that had seen better decades. The fire had burned low, more embers than flame, and the air carried the comfortable quiet of a day with nowhere urgent to be.
Sirius Black sprawled across the sofa like a cat that had long ago decided rules were optional, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other dangling loosely off the side. Across from him, curled in an armchair with a book that had yet to be turned past the first page, Remus watched him with a fond, resigned expression.
“You’re snoring" he said mildly.
“I am not!" Sirius replied immediately, not moving an inch.
“You absolutely are!”
“Character assassination" he muttered, “I’m being defamed in my own house!”
Remus huffed a quiet laugh, lowering his book. The moment was peaceful in the way that only rare mornings were - no missions, no meetings, no whispered strategy sessions that stretched late into the night. Just sunlight, quiet, and the comforting presence of the man he loved.
The peace was shattered with the sharp rap of talons against glass.
Both men froze.
An owl - sleek, dark, and far too dignified-looking for any post they were accustomed to receiving - perched on the windowsill, regarding them with imperious patience. Clutched in its beak was a roll of parchment sealed with dark wax, impressed with an elaborate crest.
Sirius groaned. “If that’s from Dumbledore, I’m pretending we’re not home".
“It’s Monday" Remus pointed out, “He’d only summon us on a weekday if there was a real emergency, like his office being blown up again".
“Tempting" Sirius muttered, but he was already pushing himself upright.
He crossed to the window, unlatched it, and took the parchment from the owl, which gave him a single disdainful look before launching back into the sky as though relieved to be rid of the errand.
Sirius turned the letter over in his hands, brows knitting as he examined the seal, and slowly, his expression shifted from curiosity to something far more complicated.
“…Well" he started, “That’s new".
Remus set his book aside. “What is it?”
“Expensive parchment. Custom-made wax seal. A family crest that I unfortunately recognise". He let out a low whistle. “I think we’ve just been invited somewhere fancy".
Remus blinked. “By who?!”
Sirius broke the seal and unfurled the letter, eyes scanning the elegant script. As he read, his mouth fell open slightly.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me".
“What?”
He read aloud, voice pitched halfway between disbelief and relief. “'Mr Sirius Black and his partner are cordially invited to attend luncheon at Lestrange Manor this Wednesday at one o’clock. We would be delighted by your company. Signed… Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange'".
The room went very, very quiet.
Remus stared at him. “They… what?”
Sirius lowered the parchment slowly, still staring at it as though it might rearrange itself into something less alarming if he glared hard enough.
“They invited us to lunch" he repeated faintly, “Us. Together. This Wednesday!”
Remus pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room, taking the letter from his hands to read it himself. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
“‘And his partner’” he murmured, “Do they- Do they mean me?!”
“They must!" Sirius replied, running a hand through his hair, “Who the hell else could they mean?!”
He began pacing, restless energy crackling through him.
“How in Merlin’s name do they know you’re my partner?” he demanded, “Not a single person in the Order has even the slightest clue we’ve been together for five years. Five years, Moony! Even Mad-Eye never suspected, and he suspects everything!”
Remus’s lips twitched faintly despite himself. “Well, we have been… discreet".
“Discreet?” He snorted. “We’ve been practically invisible! And now here come the bloody Lestranges - and I don’t mean that entirely figuratively, by the way - who somehow know that we’re dating?!”
He abruptly stopped mid-pace, something thoughtful creeping into his expression.
“… Unless" he said slowly, “it was Haedus".
Remus looked up sharply. “You think Haedus figured it out?! After talking to us for five minutes?!”
Sirius’s eyes softened in a way they rarely did when speaking of anyone else.
“It would fit, wouldn’t it? The pup’s observant. Too observant, sometimes. Smart, sharp… and Merlin help us, just as cunning as I’d expect from someone raised by a Black and a Lestrange". He leaned back against the mantel, folding his arms, his voice turning quiet as he continued more to himself than to his partner, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’d have turned out similar… We had the same upbringing, after all… I just didn’t have the same kind of love they clearly have for him…”
The thought hung between them heavily. Remus watched him carefully, understanding the weight behind the question - the childhood Sirius had escaped, the one Haedus had been shaped by instead. Darkness, yes. But also fierce, unyielding devotion.
After a moment, Sirius huffed out a breath and dragged a hand down his face.
“Bloody hell" he muttered, “I can’t decide if I’m impressed or terrified".
Remus finished reading the letter and set it carefully on the coffee table. For a long moment, he said nothing, but then, with quiet resolve, he crossed to the desk, pulled out a sheet of parchment, and dipped a quill into the inkpot.
Sirius blinked. “Moony?”
He didn’t look up as he began to write, his handwriting neat and precise despite the slight tremor in his fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“Replying" Remus said simply, “In the affirmative".
Sirius stared at him. “You’re agreeing to go to Lestrange Manor. Voluntarily. For lunch. With Bellatrix?!”
His quill paused for just a fraction of a second before continuing.
“It is a terrible idea" he admitted calmly, “Possibly the worst idea we have ever willingly agreed to".
“High praise, considering our history" he muttered weakly.
Remus set the quill down, sanded the ink, and folded the letter with careful precision.
“Yes" he said softly, “But if this is about Haedus… then we go. No matter how dangerous it is".
He looked up, meeting Sirius’s gaze steadily. The fear was there, undeniable and sharp - the knowledge of what the Lestranges were capable of, of what it meant to walk willingly into their domain - but beneath it was something stronger.
Resolve.
Sirius watched him for a long moment, chest tight, then let out a low, breathless laugh.
“Merlin" he said, “We’re either incredibly brave… or spectacularly stupid".
Remus’s mouth curved into a small, wry smile. “Well, historically, it has usually been a bit of both".
Sirius reached out, lacing their fingers together briefly, grounding himself in the familiar warmth.
“... Alright" he said, squeezing once before letting go, “Lunch at Lestrange Manor on Wednesday. Let’s do it”.
He glanced at the ornate letter still lying on the coffee table and shook his head, a mix of dread and reluctant admiration tugging at his expression.
Wednesday, 15th April
The gates of Lestrange Manor swung open without a sound.
Sirius felt the familiar prickle along the back of his neck as they stepped through, the wards heavy and ancient, layered with the kind of magic that had been built up over generations. It wasn’t the oppressive, suffocating atmosphere he remembered from certain pure-blood estates, but it was powerful. Controlled. Watchful.
Beside him, Remus’s hand brushed briefly against his sleeve, a silent reassurance more than anything else. Sirius resisted the urge to take it properly - this was neither the time nor place for open displays, no matter what the invitation had implied.
The manor itself rose from the grounds in pale stone and dark windows, elegant rather than ostentatious. It did not feel abandoned or decaying the way so many old houses did. It felt… lived in.
That, more than anything, unsettled him.
They had barely reached the front steps when the door opened of its own accord, and a house-elf stood waiting on the threshold. It was dressed not in rags but in an immaculate white toga-like garment edged with silver thread, the fabric draped with almost ceremonial precision. It bowed low, long ears brushing the polished marble floor.
“Masters Black and Lupin" it said in a clear, dignified voice, “Mistress and Master Lestrange welcome you to the manor. Please, follow Tiberius".
Sirius blinked and gave Remus a wide-eyed look, but obediently followed.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the gleaming floor as they walked through the entrance hall. Portraits lined the walls - not snarling or shouting, but watching with measured, curious interest. Tiberius led them into a spacious drawing room and gestured gracefully to a pair of armchairs near the hearth.
“Tea will be served shortly. Mistress and Master will join you momentarily".
With another bow, the elf vanished with a quiet crack.
The silence that followed was thick.
Sirius remained standing for a moment, taking in the room - the tasteful furniture, the shelves lined with carefully curated books, the absence of any overtly Dark artefacts displayed for intimidation. Everything was elegant, controlled, and almost… welcoming.
“This is surreal" he murmured.
Remus sank into one of the armchairs, posture carefully composed but shoulders tense.
“We are about to drink tea in Bellatrix Lestrange’s drawing room" he said mildly, “Surreal doesn’t quite cover it".
Before Sirius could respond, the door opened.
Bellatrix Lestrange entered first.
Time had not softened her so much as sharpened her. She moved with the same predatory grace he remembered, dark hair coiled elegantly at the nape of her neck, eyes bright and as piercing as ever. But there was something else now - a calmness, a poise that hadn’t existed when they had last seen each other face to face.
Rodolphus followed at her side, tall and composed, his gaze assessing but not hostile. For a heartbeat, the years fell away, and Sirius remembered duels under shattered skies, wild laughter echoing over curses, the fury in their eyes when they’d last met as enemies on either side of a battlefield.
Bellatrix stopped a few paces from them. “Cousin Sirius”.
Her voice was perfectly civil. It startled him more than if she’d drawn her wand.
“... Cousin Bella" he replied carefully.
A long pause stretched between them - a decade of blood, war, and estrangement hanging unspoken in the air.
Then Rodolphus inclined his head slightly. “Mr Black. Mr Lupin. Thank you for accepting our invitation".
Remus rose smoothly to his feet, offering a polite nod. “Thank you for receiving us, Mr Lestrange".
Bellatrix’s gaze flicked briefly to Remus, sharp and assessing, but there was no sneer, no immediate hostility. Instead, she gestured gracefully toward the chairs.
“Please. Sit. Tea will be here shortly".
They did.
The awkwardness lingered at first, brittle and cautious. Sirius was acutely aware that the last time he had seen his cousin, she had been attempting to kill him with great enthusiasm. Equally, Rodolphus had only ever been a distant figure across battle lines, wand raised and expression cold.
And yet-
No wands were drawn. No threats were made. They spoke instead of neutral things at first - the journey, the weather, the gardens around the manor - all with impeccable politeness that felt almost absurd given their shared history.
Tea arrived in delicate porcelain cups borne by Tiberius, who poured with solemn precision before vanishing once more. Bellatrix waited until they had all taken a sip before setting her cup down.
“Haedus will join us for lunch" she said calmly, “He is currently otherwise occupied".
Sirius’s chest loosened slightly at that. “Right… Good. I look forward to it”.
Rodolphus leaned forward just a fraction, fingers steepled, expression thoughtful rather than aggressive.
“However" he said, voice even, “before that, there is a matter we wished to discuss with you both privately".
The air in the room tightened.
He felt Remus stiffen beside him.
Bellatrix’s eyes settled squarely on Sirius, piercing and unflinching.
“You understand" she said, “that our son is the most important thing in the world to us".
There was no hysteria in her tone. No madness. Just cold, absolute certainty.
“If we believed that either of you intended him harm” Rodolphus continued smoothly, “Whether physically, mentally, or emotionally - you would not have been invited into our home".
Sirius held his gaze, something fierce rising in his chest despite the tension.
“We would never hurt him" he said quietly, “He’s my godson".
Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And yet, you are also a member of an organisation that has spent years opposing everything that we stand for".
Remus cleared his throat and spoke, quiet yet steady. “Our conflict with you is... ideological, Mrs Lestrange. It is not with Haedus".
Rodolphus watched him carefully. “And if he were to one day choose a path that does not align with yours?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Then we would still care about him. We are not here to… mould him into anything. Only to ensure he knows we’re on his side".
Bellatrix studied them both in silence. Sirius met her gaze head-on, refusing to flinch.
“You raised him as your own" he said, despite the ache in his chest, “You love him. I can see that. We’re not here to take him away from you or turn him against you. We just… We want to be in his life, in whatever capacity we can be”.
The words felt strange on his tongue, but true, and for a long moment, no one spoke. Then Bellatrix leaned back slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing by a fraction.
“… He likes you" she said at last, almost grudgingly, “More than I expected".
Rodolphus’s mouth curved faintly. “And he is not easily impressed".
A small, reluctant smile tugged at Sirius’s lips. “He’s a good judge of character, then... Must take after his parents".
Bellatrix’s eyes flickered with something unreadable - pride, perhaps, or warning.
“Understand this, Sirius Black" she said softly, “If you betray his trust, I will not hesitate. Blood or not".
He nodded immediately, unusually solemn. “I understand. And I won’t betray his trust… We just want him to be happy”.
The silence that followed was no longer sharp with hostility. It was cautious, measured… but no longer on the verge of snapping. At last, Bellatrix picked up her teacup again, expression smoothing back into cool composure.
“Very well" she said, “Then we shall have lunch".
As if summoned by the words, footsteps echoed faintly from the corridor outside - lighter, quicker, but familiar all the same, and Sirius’s heart gave an involuntary jolt.
The door opened with a soft click, and Haedus stepped into the drawing room as though he had never known hesitation in his entire life. He paused only briefly upon seeing Sirius and Remus, pleasant surprise flashing across his face before reverting back to something more measured - though the faint brightening in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Mr Black... Mr Lupin".
Sirius rose at once, unable to help the grin that spread across his face. “Hello, pup".
Haedus rolled his eyes at the nickname but didn’t protest. “You made it, then".
“We said we would" Remus replied gently, standing as well.
For a moment, they simply looked at him.
They’d seen Haedus at Hogwarts, of course, but it had undeniably been under strenuous circumstances. Here, in this house, in his home, the difference was impossible to ignore. The boy moved with an ease that spoke of complete belonging. There was no guardedness, no tension coiled beneath his posture. He was relaxed. Secure.
Bellatrix rose smoothly. “Lunch is ready".
She didn’t reach for Haedus, didn’t fuss or hover, but as they walked from the drawing room, Sirius noticed the brief, almost unconscious way her hand brushed his shoulder in passing. Haedus leaned very slightly into the touch without even seeming to be aware of it.
The gesture was small - but it spoke volumes.
The dining room was elegant but not intimidating, the table set with understated precision rather than excessive grandeur. They took their seats with quiet civility - Rodolphus at the head, Bellatrix to his right and Haedus in between them, while Sirius and Remus sat opposite the pair.
Conversation was light, at first - safe topics, polite inquiries about Hogwarts, about classes, about how Haedus planned to spend the rest of his Easter holidays.
“He’s progressing exceptionally quickly" Rodolphus remarked, cutting neatly into his meal, “Though that hardly surprises us".
Haedus gave a small shrug that was undeniably pleased. “Sev says I could get twelve O.W.L.s if I put my mind to it".
Sirius let out a low whistle, and Remus smiled. “It sounds like you’re enjoying your lessons".
“I am" he admitted, “They’re… interesting, for the most part. I’m already ahead in a lot of my subjects, but the revision is good too”.
Bellatrix watched him with unmistakable pride before turning her attention back to their guests.
Sirius found himself asking questions almost without thinking - about Haedus’s favourite foods, the music he listened to, when he’d gotten his pet snake - and Haedus answered readily, far more open and willing to talk here than he’d been at Hogwarts.
He even teased his mother once or twice, and Rodolphus occasionally made dry, amused remarks that Haedus countered with quick wit. The dynamic between them was effortless - affectionate in a way that required no overt displays.
Sirius felt something twist quietly in his chest.
He had grown up in a house where affection had either been a weapon or a weakness, but Haedus had grown up here, in this house, and was confident, happy, and utterly certain of his parents’ love. Not for the first time, Sirius allowed himself to wonder what he might have become under the same conditions, and the thought lingered until Haedus set down his fork and looked directly at him and Remus.
“There’s something I’ve been curious about" he began.
Bellatrix did not interrupt, and Rodolphus merely observed, his expression neutral, but something in their posture made Sirius think that they knew exactly what was coming next.
“What about, pup?”
Haedus’s gaze was calm, but intent. “Your loyalty to Dumbledore".
The room quieted instantly.
Sirius leaned back slightly in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “Rather blunt, aren’t you?”
“I prefer clarity" he replied easily.
“Our loyalty to Dumbledore" Remus said slowly, “has not been absolute for quite some time".
Haedus’s eyes sharpened. “Why?”
Sirius’s jaw tightened faintly. “Because of the way he talks about you".
Bellatrix’s gaze flicked to him, sharp and interested.
“He doesn’t speak about you like you’re a child, pup" he continued softly, “He speaks about you like you’re… a piece on his chessboard. A weapon he hopes to point in the right direction when the time comes".
Haedus’s expression didn’t change, but something cold glinted in his eyes.
Remus nodded quietly in agreement. “It’s never sat well with us, but we’ve continued to play along to stay in the know. The last thing we want is to be cut off from all sides, and so, according to Dumbledore, we’re loyal to him and him alone”.
Sirius smirked. “I even let him use Grimmauld Place for Order meetings".
Haedus tilted his head. “Why?”
“So we stay in the loop" he replied simply, “If I shut him out entirely, he’d just meet somewhere else, and I’d have no idea what he’s planning. This way, I hear everything. And if he ever starts holding meetings without me or questions my loyalty… well, then my house-elf will tell me”.
For a heartbeat, there was complete silence, and then Bellatrix’s lips curved into a small, unmistakably amused smile.
“How very Slytherin of you, cousin dear" she said mildly.
Sirius blinked in surprise and then barked out a short laugh. “Just don’t tell that portrait of my mother - she’d have a heart attack! Or, actually, now that I think about it, please do tell my mother for that exact same reason”.
Rodolphus allowed himself the faintest hint of a smirk, while Haedus watched Sirius with something like newfound respect - and for the first time since they had entered Lestrange Manor, the atmosphere around the table didn't feel tense or cautious or afraid.
It felt… almost comfortable.