The room was thick with tension as Andromeda finished her examination, her healer's calmness a sharp contrast to the undercurrent of emotions swirling around the group. As she straightened, wiping her hands with a simple spell, Arcturus and Melania returned from the other room. Their faces were serene, but the shadows beneath their eyes told a different story—one that weighed heavily on their shoulders.
Sirius couldn't help himself. His thoughts immediately turned to Harry. The young boy had been through so much, and Sirius hadn't been able to protect him. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore the dull ache of guilt gnawing at him. "How's Harry?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than he intended, the concern evident despite the attempt at casualness.
Arcturus glanced at Melania, a silent exchange passing between them before Arcturus spoke. "He's with Charlus and Dorea," he said, his voice as calm as ever, but Sirius caught the edge of something unspoken in the way he said it. It wasn't quite a reassurance. More like a hint of a deeper conversation waiting to unfold.
Sirius blinked, surprised. "Charlus and Dorea?" he repeated, his voice rising with shock. "They're awake? How... when—"
Melania, her gaze thoughtful and slightly distant, nodded gravely. "Yes," she answered, her voice a smooth, almost melodic tone, laced with sadness. "Only just a day ago. They've been... recovering, but now they're fully awake."
Sirius stood there, dumbfounded. His godparents, the very people who should have been raising Harry, had only just awoken? It felt impossible. His mind began to race, the implications far too large to wrap his head around in a single breath.
"How is he?" Sirius asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice. "Is he... okay?"
The exchange of glances between Arcturus and Melania didn't go unnoticed. A chill spread through Sirius as he leaned forward, his tone sharpening. "What aren't you telling me? Is something wrong with Harry?"
Arcturus sighed deeply, rubbing his temples before answering. The weight of everything was clear on his face. "Harry's situation is more complicated than we'd hoped," he said slowly, each word carefully chosen. "Dumbledore... put him in less-than-ideal circumstances."
Sirius's brows furrowed, his pulse quickening. "What do you mean? Less-than-ideal?" he asked, his voice clipped. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"
Melania, her face soft with concern, spoke up this time, her voice full of quiet emotion. "Dumbledore placed Harry with Petunia Dursley, Lily's sister," she revealed, her words a bitter pill. "From what we've gathered, Harry suffered... neglect, abuse, and malnutrition. He was not cared for as he should have been."
Sirius's world seemed to tilt as those words settled into his mind. Petunia Dursley? He could feel the old anger and frustration bubbling up in his chest, but it was the weight of guilt that threatened to swallow him whole. He had trusted Dumbledore—hell, everyone had trusted Dumbledore. And yet, this—this was the result? The image of Harry, small and vulnerable, stuck with those muggles, filled him with a rage so hot it burned deep.
Melania continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "Charlus and Dorea were devastated when they found out the truth," she said, her eyes glistening as though recalling the pain herself. "We had to find Harry through a Potter House Elf. He was alone... and in desperate need of help."
Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the oncoming tide of emotion. He remembered that night—so many years ago, when Hagrid had come to take Harry to safety. His hands had been shaking as he held Harry in his arms, a mix of grief and adrenaline pulsing through him. He had trusted Hagrid, trusted Dumbledore. He hadn't known what was coming, that the very people who should have been there for Harry were absent.
The weight of that betrayal settled in his gut.
"I failed him," Sirius muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse with self-loathing. The words felt like a knife to his heart.
Arcturus, ever the stoic figure, crossed his arms and gave Sirius a long, measured look, as if calculating his response. "You didn't know, Sirius," he said, voice firm but not unkind. "Dumbledore pulled the strings. You were misled. You thought you were doing what was best. But... this is not your fault."
Sirius met Arcturus's gaze, eyes dark and full of regret. "I should've done more," he muttered, the words a quiet confession that rattled around in his chest. "I should've known. I should've seen it."
Melania, ever the calming force, stepped forward. Her hands gently rested on Sirius's arm, her touch soothing despite the heaviness in the air. "You can't change the past, Sirius," she said softly, her voice warm and understanding. "But you can be there for him now. And that's what matters."
Arcturus tilted his head slightly, his tone lightening just a touch, though it remained laced with gravitas. "Charlus and Dorea will be bringing him here later today," he announced. "You'll see him soon enough."
Sirius's gaze hardened, determination lighting in his eyes. "I'm not letting him go again," he growled, the fire in his voice unmistakable. "I'll fix this. I'll make sure he's never alone again."
Arcturus gave a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Ah, there it is," he muttered with a sly smile. "The old Sirius Black fire. Good. Just remember not to burn the bloody house down in the process."
Sirius shot him a dark look, but there was a spark of his old self—sharp, biting, and defiant. "I'll take my chances," he shot back, giving Arcturus a wry grin. "After all, it's what I do best."
"Just keep the drama to a minimum," Arcturus added with a roll of his eyes. "We've had quite enough of that already."
Sirius's grin only widened. "You're welcome," he quipped. "I'll try not to cause too much trouble... for today."
Andromeda, standing to the side, watched the exchange with a slight smile tugging at her lips. She stepped in, placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Sirius, you're going to be a great godfather to Harry," she said, her voice full of warmth. "But remember, you don't have to do it all alone. We're all here."
Sirius looked at her, his heart swelling with gratitude for the people around him. With a deep breath, he nodded, his resolve hardening. "No more mistakes. Not this time."
And with that, the weight of the past, the pain of loss, and the burden of responsibility settled into him like a mantle. But this time, Sirius Black was ready to bear it. For Harry. For the family he'd sworn to protect.
—
The sitting room of the Potter estate had a comforting air of quiet elegance, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the windows. Charlus and Dorea sat across from Harry, who was nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt, his eyes flicking between them. The walls of the room were adorned with portraits of long-passed ancestors, each with a gaze that seemed to carry the weight of the Potter legacy.
Charlus, ever the stoic figure, gazed at Harry with a mixture of fondness and gravity. His dark eyes, sharp and calculating, softened just for a moment as he knelt down to Harry's level, the silver streaks in his hair catching the light. "Harry," he began, his voice deep, measured, and commanding, like a man accustomed to speaking with authority. "There's someone very important we want you to meet today."
Harry looked up at him, blinking with curiosity. "Who, Grandpa?"
Charlus gave him a small smile, though it was tinged with the sadness of years passed. "Your godfather, Sirius Black."
Dorea, seated beside Charlus, smiled at Harry with an expression that was both maternal and ancient, as if she knew exactly what he was feeling, having seen it in her own children's eyes all those years ago. Her sharp features, now softened with age, glimmered with a knowing kindness. "Sirius was a very dear friend of your parents, Harry. They trusted him, loved him. And he has never stopped loving you, no matter what." She let her words linger in the air for a moment, offering Harry the reassurance that only a grandmother could.
Harry's wide green eyes blinked up at her, and his voice came out small and hesitant. "Was he... was he in trouble?"
Charlus's gaze darkened for a brief moment, and he looked to Dorea as if silently questioning whether to say more. After a beat, he returned his gaze to Harry and nodded, his voice low and deliberate. "Yes, Harry. For a very long time, he was accused of something he didn't do. He was sent to a place called Azkaban, a dreadful prison for wizards, but it was all based on lies. The truth has come to light now, and Sirius is free." His tone was quiet, yet it held a weight that only someone of Charlus's age could truly carry.
Harry absorbed the words, processing them slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. "Free? So... does that mean he's not mad at me?"
Dorea's smile softened into a more tender expression as she leaned forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from Harry's forehead. "Oh, my love, no. He's never been mad at you. If anything, he's been waiting, hoping to hold you in his arms, to love you the way a godfather should." Her eyes flickered with an unspoken sadness as she continued, "Sirius has missed so much of your life, Harry. But now, he gets to be a part of it."
Charlus rose from his crouch, standing tall and proud, his commanding presence filling the space around them. He met Harry's gaze, his voice steady but warm. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Harry. Sirius is family. And family always looks out for one another."
Harry swallowed hard, his eyes wide as he glanced between them. "I don't know if I'll be any good at... being with him. What if he doesn't like me?"
Dorea chuckled softly, her voice rich and deep with the wisdom of years spent watching over her loved ones. "Sirius will adore you. You are the child of his best friends, and nothing could make him happier than to see you. Just be yourself, Harry. That's all you need to be."
Charlus exchanged a glance with Dorea, their eyes locking for a moment as if silently acknowledging the magnitude of what was about to happen. "It's time," he said, his voice a little quieter, but no less certain.
He took Harry's hand firmly, his grip steady and reassuring, before he looked at Dorea, who was already standing and holding her arm out to Harry. "Ready, my boy?" she asked gently, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Harry nodded, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside him. "I think so, Grandma. But... what exactly are we going to do?"
Dorea's dark eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. "We're going to use Side-Along Apparition. It's how we'll travel to St. Mungo's to meet Sirius." She paused, watching him closely. "It's a bit like being squeezed through a very narrow tube. It might feel strange, but you'll be with me, and it won't hurt."
Harry hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, grasping her arm with a little more determination than before. "Okay. I'll hold on tight, Grandma."
"That's the spirit," she said with a wink, her tone light but filled with the steadiness that only Dorea Potter could possess. "Don't worry, Harry. I've got you."
Charlus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, offering one last glance of reassurance. "We'll be right there, Harry," he said, his voice smooth and calm, the kind of reassurance that only someone of his stature could offer. "Now, let's go meet your godfather."
"On three," Dorea said, her voice steady and clear. "One... two... three."
In the blink of an eye, the world around them vanished.
—
As the familiar warmth of the Potter estate dissolved into the cool, sterile atmosphere of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Harry felt the disorienting tug of Apparition tighten around him. For a brief moment, he wondered if his stomach had gotten caught in the transition, and his head spun slightly, but then Dorea's steady hand, strong and reassuring, kept him grounded.
Beside them, with a soft pop, Charlus appeared just as gracefully as ever. He gave Harry a sidelong glance, his steely demeanor softening into a brief but genuine smile. His posture was perfect, as always, his movements controlled and deliberate as though he were born to command.
"Not so bad, was it, Harry?" Charlus asked, his deep voice holding a faint note of approval as he gave Harry's shoulder a firm but reassuring pat. There was a twinkle in his dark eyes that suggested he was more amused than anything else.
Harry took a breath, steadying himself and brushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He was still a little wobbly from the sudden change in location, but his grandfather's calm presence helped steady his nerves. "No, it was okay, Grandpa," Harry admitted, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and slight wariness. "Just... strange. Like I got squeezed through a very narrow tube."
Charlus laughed softly, the sound rich and steady, the kind of laughter that seemed to echo with years of experience. "You'll get used to it. A little strange at first, yes, but you'll be Apparating about like a pro before long. Now, come along." His voice took on a more commanding tone, though it was warm and laced with affection. "Let's go meet Sirius. He's been waiting long enough."
Dorea, who had been quietly watching the exchange, leaned down to Harry's level. She had a way of making everything feel like it was just between the two of them, even in a busy hospital ward. Her eyes, dark and knowing, locked onto Harry's with a warmth that was unmatched. Her hands, elegant and graceful, brushed a wayward strand of Harry's untamed hair back from his forehead as she spoke. "You did wonderfully, my love," she said softly. "No need to worry. Your godfather's been waiting for this moment for years. Now, it's finally time for you two to meet."
Harry nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. There was excitement there, yes, but also the weight of the unknown. He was about to meet the man who had been his parents' closest friend, the one who had loved him from afar while locked away in Azkaban. The thought made him nervous, but it also filled him with hope. Could he live up to the love and expectations that had been waiting for him all this time?
Taking Dorea's hand, Harry glanced up at Charlus, who was already leading the way through the busy hospital corridor, his steps firm and sure, as though the whole world had already bent to his will. The old wizard's presence demanded respect and commanded attention, though he gave none of it. He simply walked, a silent figure of authority. Dorea followed closely, her pace relaxed, as though she'd done this a thousand times.
Harry felt a tug of uncertainty, but Dorea's hand in his was a steadying comfort. "Come along, Harry," she said, her voice light but full of warmth. "We're almost there."
As they reached the entrance to the reception, Harry paused. A flicker of doubt crossed his face. "What if... What if he's not what I expect? What if he's... disappointed in me?" The words spilled out before he could stop them, his nerves bubbling over.
Dorea paused too, her hand squeezing his with just enough pressure to ground him. She looked down at him with that knowing look in her eyes, as if the world itself had nothing on her wisdom. "Oh, darling," she said with a playful grin. "Disappointed in you? Let me tell you something—Sirius has been waiting for this moment for so long, the only thing he'll be disappointed in is that he didn't get to meet you sooner."
Charlus turned to give Harry one of his rare, but deeply reassuring smiles. "Your godfather has a heart full of love for you, Harry. He's already proud of you. Don't you worry about that."
Harry swallowed hard, feeling both reassured and slightly overwhelmed by the promise in his grandparents' words. He nodded, straightening his shoulders. "Okay, I'm ready."
—
Harry clung to Dorea's hand as they entered the bustling lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, the sharp scent of antiseptic mingling with the more pleasant aroma of enchanted flowers floating from a nearby vase. The walls were lined with moving portraits of famous Healers—each portrait more dramatic than the last, depicting scenes of medical triumphs. Healers, wearing their signature lime-green robes, hurried past them, casting diagnostic spells and applying healing charms with quick, practiced movements.
"Just stay close, Harry," Dorea said softly, her voice the epitome of calm as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Her expression, both composed and confident, seemed to say that there was nothing to fear. "We're almost there."
Harry nodded, though his insides churned with a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. He had heard so many stories about Sirius Black, his godfather—some of them filled with laughter, others with pain and regret. It was a little surreal, standing here on the precipice of meeting the man who had once been a fixture in his parents' lives, and now, in Harry's own, was about to step into the role of a guardian and friend.
They made their way through the lobby, past an impressive fountain of swirling water that seemed to hum with a faint magical energy, when they reached the reception desk. A witch with slightly askew glasses and a slightly chaotic, distracted air greeted them with a smile, her name tag reading Bernadette.
"Good afternoon!" Bernadette called cheerfully, her voice cracking slightly. "How may I assist you today?"
Charlus, ever the picture of composed authority, stepped forward with a gracious nod. "We're here to see Sirius Black. Room 403, if you would be so kind."
Bernadette flipped through a magical ledger with exaggerated precision. She looked up after a beat, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. "Ah! Yes, Mr. Black. Fourth floor, third door on the left. Room 403. You'll need to take the lift to your right." She paused, looking between them with a slight furrowed brow, before adding in a distracted tone, "Just—just be sure to not step in the water. It tends to splash."
Charlus raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Thank you, Bernadette. We will certainly avoid any mishaps."
Dorea gave Harry a quick, bemused glance. "Trust me, Harry, you're in good hands here."
Harry could only nod. The mix of absurdity and the stiff professionalism around them was a stark contrast to his racing pulse.
The lift, when they reached it, was a curious contraption—a brass cage, intricately carved with animated creatures that twisted and shifted with an eerie fluidity. The doors closed with a soft chime, and the lift ascended, the air inside thick with an odd magical scent that was both refreshing and peculiar. For a few moments, Harry was too distracted by the lift's enchantments to notice anything else, though he could hear faint tinkling music in the background, which felt entirely out of place but somehow... right.
When the doors finally opened with another soft chime, they stepped out into a quieter, more subdued corridor. The pale walls hummed with the buzz of distant spells, but the atmosphere felt different—more personal, more intimate. Harry's heart thudded heavily in his chest with each step they took toward room 403.
As they rounded the corner, Harry spotted the tall, imposing figures of Arcturus and Melania Black, standing stoically outside Sirius's room. Arcturus was dressed in his customary dark, dignified robes, his sharp features and silvery hair a striking contrast to the lightheartedness in Harry's heart. His piercing gaze softened only slightly as he spotted Harry.
"Charlus, Dorea," Arcturus greeted them with a deep, formal nod, before his sharp eyes turned to Harry. "Ah, Harry. You're here at last."
Harry felt a wave of nervousness sweep over him at the sight of his great-grandfather, the man who had seen and done so much in his lifetime. He swallowed hard and offered a shy but respectful smile. "Yes, Grandpa Arcturus."
Before Arcturus could respond, Melania stepped forward, her presence as graceful as a queen's. Dressed in flowing robes of rich green, her dark eyes held a quiet intensity as they settled on Harry, who suddenly felt a little small under her gaze. Her smile, though, was kind, and her hand—light and warm—rested gently on his shoulder.
"Hello, dear," Melania said softly, her accent smooth and soothing. "I trust you're ready to meet your godfather?"
Harry's throat tightened. He swallowed hard, his voice catching in his chest. "I think so."
Dorea's hand, ever steady, rested on his arm as she gave him an encouraging smile. "You'll be fine, darling," she whispered. "Sirius has been waiting for this moment as much as you have. He's the one who's been looking forward to this for years."
Charlus, whose sharp features rarely betrayed emotion, glanced down at Harry with a small but approving smile. "Just remember, Harry," he said, his voice deep and firm, "You've already made your impression. The man you're about to meet is someone who has longed to be a part of your life."
With that, Dorea opened the door to room 403, and the world seemed to pause for a moment.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of healing spells, the hum of magical medical equipment filling the air like an invisible heartbeat. At the center of the room lay Sirius Black, his face thinner and his body more worn than Harry had imagined from the stories, but his eyes—they were still the same, burning with a light that spoke of untold stories and deep emotions.
Sirius's gaze locked onto Harry the moment the door opened, and for a second, the world outside seemed to vanish. His expression softened in disbelief before a wide, full smile broke across his face. "Harry," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. "Harry, is it really you?"
Harry stepped forward, his feet feeling like lead, his heart thumping louder than he'd ever thought possible. His voice, soft but steady, finally managed to escape. "Hello, Sirius. I'm Harry."
Sirius blinked, as if he needed a moment to process, but then his tired but still-powerful arms opened wide. "You've grown so much, kiddo," he said with a grin that could light up the whole room. "Come here. Let me get a good look at you."
As Harry approached, he felt a warmth spread through him that he didn't know he'd been missing. The moment felt surreal, like all the stories, all the waiting, had been leading up to this. The two of them stood there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, simply taking in the presence of the other. Harry moved closer, finally closing the distance between them, and Sirius pulled him into a fierce, overwhelming hug.
Around them, Charlus and Dorea exchanged quiet glances, their faces soft with pride and relief. Arcturus and Melania, though still the picture of stoic elegance, watched the scene unfold with a touch of warmth flickering behind their ever-watchful eyes.
And for the first time, Harry understood that he was no longer a boy who only had stories and distant memories to hold on to. He was a boy who was finally embraced by the family he had always longed for—starting with the man who had loved him from afar and now, finally, would get to love him up close.
Sirius pulled back slightly, holding Harry at arm's length, his grin still wide. "You're going to have to get used to this, kid. There's a lot of me to go around."
Harry laughed softly, the knot in his chest loosening. "I think I can handle it."
With a final chuckle, Sirius leaned back against his pillows, looking thoroughly content. "Good. Because I've got a lifetime of catching up to do."
—
Sirius Black leaned back in his bed, his usually disheveled appearance even more so from his time in the hospital, but his gaze was sharper, full of fire and life, despite the pale, worn look on his face. He couldn't hide the smile that crept across his lips when he saw Charlus and Dorea step into the room. It had been far too long since he'd felt anything resembling warmth, but here they were, like anchors in the storm.
"Charlus, Dorea," Sirius muttered, his voice thick with emotion, almost hoarse, as though the words had been waiting years to be spoken. His eyes glistened with gratitude. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you both awake and well. You two... you've been more like parents to me than anyone ever could've been. After I ran away from that godforsaken house, you took me in without hesitation, gave me a home. I'll never be able to repay you for that."
Charlus, tall and formidable even in his older years, met Sirius's gaze with a stern yet softening expression. His dark eyes, often cold and calculating in business, now held warmth, and his lips curled into a faint, approving smile.
"Sirius," he said, his voice deep and commanding but laced with genuine affection. "You've been like a son to us. You always will be. We've never seen you as anything less, despite the circumstances. What you've endured... no one should have had to. But, damn it, you're still here, and that's what matters."
His voice broke for a moment, a touch of emotion slipping through, though he quickly regained his composure. The stoic mask was ever-present, but the kindness beneath was undeniable.
Dorea, standing just behind Charlus, placed a hand on his arm and stepped forward, her eyes catching the light of the room, shining with tenderness and unshed tears. Her raven-black hair framed her face perfectly, and her expression held a deep mix of sorrow and affection as she met Sirius's eyes.
"You're here now, Sirius," Dorea said in her velvety voice, her words slow and deliberate, every one carrying weight. "And that's what matters most. You've always had a family with us, and you always will. You don't need to repay anything. What you've given us over the years... that's enough."
Her hand found its way to his, and she gave it a soft squeeze, her grip firm but comforting, offering solace in a way that only she could.
Sirius couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, his trademark grin flashing despite the lingering shadows of his past. "Well, that's good to hear. I've been meaning to repay you for all the trouble I caused. Not exactly the model child, was I?"
"Trouble?" Charlus scoffed, his lips quirking into something almost like a smile. "You weren't trouble, Sirius. You were... well, a bit of a handful, I'll admit. But you brought a fire with you—an energy we hadn't realized was missing. I'd be lying if I said we didn't miss it."
Sirius smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess that's one way of putting it." He glanced back to Dorea, eyes softening. "And you, Dorea, always the voice of reason, always the calm one... still keeping Charlus in check, I see."
Dorea raised an eyebrow, the faintest smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Someone has to keep him from getting too serious. Besides, someone needs to remind him to eat. He's been known to skip meals in the name of work."
Sirius snorted, a laugh escaping him as he leaned back into the pillows. "Yeah, that sounds about right." He gave them a look, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Is it bad that I can totally picture Charlus skipping meals for the sake of... well, anything?"
Charlus shot him a disapproving look, but there was no malice in it, just a fond exasperation. "You have no idea. I've spent far too many evenings eating a cold dinner because someone," he pointed a finger dramatically toward Dorea, "decided that the office was more important than dinner."
Dorea smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I would say you brought it on yourself, dear. And don't think I haven't noticed you sneak off when I make my famous chicken stew." She winked at Sirius. "Your godfather's a bit of a sneak when it comes to that stew, Sirius. You have no idea the lengths he'll go to avoid it."
Sirius chuckled again, the sound filling the room with life. It felt good to laugh, especially here, surrounded by the Potters, a family that had always made him feel like one of their own. He turned back to them, his smile fading just slightly as he grew more serious.
"Thank you. Truly. I don't know what I would've done without you both... and Harry." His eyes shifted to the boy standing by the door, watching them all with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
Charlus caught the shift in Sirius's gaze and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone anymore, Sirius. Not now. Not ever."
Dorea nodded, her expression soft, full of understanding. "Harry's here for you, too. He's family."
The words hung in the air for a moment, rich with meaning, before Sirius, always the one to deflect with humor, broke the silence.
"Well, if Harry takes after you, I'm in trouble," he teased, grinning widely. "I'll have to start giving him tips on how to get away with things."
Harry, his face flushed with both nerves and excitement, stepped forward. "I don't need tips. I've already learned from the best," he said with a sly grin, pointing at Sirius. "No one can outwit a Black, right?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Ouch. You wound me, Harry. But you're right, of course. No one does it better than a Black." He winked at the boy. "Except maybe your dad. He's good at being a pain in the arse."
Charlus chuckled, his stern demeanor cracking for a moment. "The only pain in the arse I know is you, Sirius."
Sirius threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I've been called worse, old man."
Harry watched this exchange with a smile on his face, the knot in his chest loosening for the first time in ages. This was family. The kind that didn't ask for anything in return, that just was. And maybe, just maybe, it was all going to be alright.
—
The soft creak of the door closing behind them signaled the shift in the room's dynamic as Andromeda, her usual composed demeanor tinged with concern, motioned for Melania Black and Dorea Potter to follow her outside. The warm flicker of candlelight danced behind them as they stepped into the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the heavy weight of the conversation to come.
Andromeda turned to face them, her expression serious yet filled with an undercurrent of concern, a compassion that only those closest to her could read. "Sirius has endured severe physical and emotional trauma during his time in Azkaban," she began, her voice low, carrying the sharp professionalism of a healer. "The prolonged exposure to Dementors has left him weakened—both physically and mentally."
Melania, tall and elegant with an air of quiet strength, raised her brow, the gravity of the situation not lost on her. Her dark eyes flickered with understanding as she crossed her arms over her chest. "The damage done by those creatures... it's more than just psychological. His body will bear the scars for a long time. The Dementors strip away your very essence." Her voice was firm, laced with the quiet authority that came from years of healing. "He'll need more than just time—he'll need extensive treatment and rehabilitation. But it's not hopeless. With the right care, there's hope for his recovery."
Dorea, ever the steadying presence, stood with her arms loosely folded, her eyes narrowed in thought. The weight of Melania's words lingered in the air, but Dorea, as always, balanced the severity of the moment with a quiet determination. "We've faced challenges before," she murmured, her tone rich and unwavering like a deep, resonant bell. "Sirius has a fire in him. He may have been broken, but he's not beyond repair. We'll help him heal."
Andromeda's posture softened at their words. "I know we got him out in time," she replied, her voice tight with the tension she carried in her heart. "Prolonged Dementor exposure... it can have lasting effects, not just on the mind, but on his body. It can even..." She trailed off, the implication hanging heavily between them.
Melania tilted her head slightly, acknowledging the unspoken concern. "Yes," she murmured, the weight of the knowledge settling in. "It can lead to infertility, among other things. The trauma affects the very core of one's magic. It strips you bare, leaves you hollow."
Dorea let out a quiet sigh, her lips pursed into a grim line as she met Andromeda's gaze. "We've never dealt with something like this before, but we'll face it as a family, like we always do. Sirius needs us now more than ever."
Andromeda gave a small nod, a flicker of gratitude shining through her otherwise composed exterior. "We'll help him," she said, her voice resolute. "He won't face this alone. And... I'm hopeful. His release from Azkaban may be the first step in his physical recovery, if we act quickly."
Melania uncrossed her arms, stepping closer with a look that was both compassionate and clinical. "It's true that with care, Sirius can begin to heal. But we'll need to be cautious. The trauma is so deep-rooted. But he's strong, and if anyone can pull through this, it's him."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Dorea added, her voice lighter now, a hint of wry humor peeking through the gravity of their discussion. "Sirius has always been stubborn. It might be his best quality—or his worst." She glanced sideways at Andromeda with a knowing look. "I know that better than anyone."
Andromeda's lips curved into a small smile, a fleeting moment of lightness. "You're right. I think we all know that well enough," she said with a soft laugh. "But in times like this, that stubbornness might be just what he needs."
Melania nodded in agreement, her dark eyes gleaming with understanding. "Sirius's strength is in his refusal to give up, even when everything inside him is screaming for him to break. It's a rare thing."
"He's always been a bit of a wild card," Dorea remarked dryly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "But he's ours, and we'll do everything in our power to help him come back from this."
Andromeda met their gazes one last time, the quiet determination in her own eyes now mirroring theirs. "We'll give him the care and love he deserves. We'll take it one step at a time, but we'll get him through this."
As the three women stood together in the quiet hallway, an unspoken understanding passed between them—an unbreakable bond of family that no amount of pain or trauma could ever sever. And though the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, they knew that together, they could help Sirius find his way back to himself, piece by piece.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s
Thank you for your support!