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Please, Remember Me by Radcliffe_PotterFan319

Format: Novel
Chapters: 10
Word Count: 45,244
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Drama, Romance, Angst
Characters: Sirius, OC
Pairings: Sirius/OC

First Published: 12/04/2006
Last Chapter: 08/09/2009
Last Updated: 08/09/2009

Sequel to It Was Only A Kiss
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“Do you want to remember me?” I asked. Libby shook her head. “No."

Chapter 1: Promise
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Disclimer:Everything belongs to JK Rowling. Many parts of this plot follow the line of JK Rowling's. Libby and the things that you don't recgonize belong to me and I have twisted JKR's genius story to fit my own, not as genius story.

Please, Remember Me
–Sequel to It Was Only A Kiss–
By Radcliffe_PotterFan319

Chapter One

I feel like I lost everything when you're gone
Left remembering what it's like to have you here with me
I thought you should know,
You're not making this easy

You're not making this easy
You're not making this easy
You're not making this easy
You're not making this easy

I'll fall asleep tonight, 'cause that brings me closer to you

---Matchbook Romance "Promise"


You never really think about your life. Things you lost, things you’ve gained. That is until you find yourself locked in a cold, dark place with nothing but thinking to do. That’s when you realized how much someone means to you, how much you loved life, how much you really liked desk work at your job when other Aurors were out fighting Death Eaters. . .things you complain and dread doing.

Then, it’s snatched from you. Taken away from someone you thought was close to you. Someone you trusted. And you know you’ll never get it back. You’ll never walk into your door, exhausted, after a long day of work. You’ll never smile at the one person you know you’ll ever love. It’s gone, just out of your grasp. But once you lose all you have, you begin to think. You realize little details of your life that you never really noticed before.

After what happened—being accused of using the Dark Arts and selling James and Lily, my best friends, out to the Dark Lord Voldemort and being thrown into the wizarding prison, Azkaban—I had done a lot of thinking. All starting with the man that is the reason why I’m in here.

No, not Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew.

Or Wormtail as I called him doing our school days. We were best friends. James, Remus, Peter, and I. We were called the Marauders and inseparable. Brothers, I liked to call them, seeing how my family would rather yell at me about being a ‘blood-traitor’. We were the jokesters of the school. Always pulling a prank on someone, especially the Slytherins. So, really, none of us ever though that one of us would betray us all. When I was thrown in Azkaban, I realized how much Peter always seemed to idolize James and me. Then I realized how I barely saw him after we graduated that year after we graduated from Hogwarts. I always sort of used the excuse of my marriage, saying that I was to busy with the love of my life and Peter might feel uncomfortable. But when he began to come over almost everyday for the past year, I should have had some sort of suspicion. He looked thinner, scared, distracted, now that I think about it. But I took no notice because I was to in love and had been to busy with starting a family to think about him.

Thinking about Peter, made me remember my other friend, Remus Lupin. He was always the quieter one of the group. And a werewolf. Everyone thought that he was the one who was working for Voldemort. I shut him out of my life because of it, when he was the innocent one. I regret that. The last month I could have spent with him was gone and now he thought I was the bad guy. I missed Remus. He always knew how to sort out a problem. I always thought that maybe he would be convinced enough to help me get out of here and clear my name. But he never came. No one did.

When I first was thrown into Azkaban, I remembered horrible memories I wanted to forget. The woman I’ve loved since I was 14 kissing someone else, the Dark Mark about Godric’s Hollow, my parents disappointment...and so on. That’s the effect the Dementors have on you. They suck every ounce of happiness out of you as possible. And yet, here I sit in the dark cell with the damp, cold walls. I’m thinking clearly and acting more sane then anyone else in the hell on earth.

Three things kept me sane since I’ve been here. Three things that helped me hang on to my sanity. Tristan, Libby, and my innocence.

Tristan is my son. My only son. He was only two months old when I was arrested. I had so many plans for him. He and Harry, James’s son, were going to be best friends and learn to fly as soon as they could walk. He would go to Hogwarts and be just like I was, having a great time. He would be happy. He’d grow to marry a beautiful girl and have great kids. I literally had his whole life planned, but I forgotten most of it. Though, I remember him and some memories, the Dementors presence had taken away a lot of them. I barely remember what color hair Tristan was born with. I can’t even remember his middle name. But I know I had a son. A beautiful boy that I know will grow healthy and as happy as he can.

This leads to Libby. My love, my wife, my life. The last time I saw her, she was looking at me frantically and telling an Auror that I was innocent. But no one believed her. If they did, I think I would have gotten out of here. But I never thought that Libby would give up so easily. I can’t believe she wouldn’t visit either. I know prisoners have visitors sometimes. It hurts that Libby wouldn’t come. She was my whole world. Just being near her would make me jittery. Of all the things in the outside world that I miss, it’s Libby I miss the most. She was always there. Always. My heart aches for her. But I try to remember all the happy memories. How she ran into the boys dormitory in our 6th year at school and kissed me, how she always snuggled close to me when settling down to sleep, her smile, her eyes, her bouncing brown curls, her laugh, the way she seemed to glow when I asked her to marry me. All that. I thought about Libby so much that I felt like it was yesterday I had kissed her good bye before tracking down Peter. I knew she would have struggled without me.

Those memories were easy to take away though. The main thing that kept me sane and my mind in tack, was the fact that I knew I was innocent. It’s not a happy thought, nor is it a sad thought. The Dementors can’t suck it away. Knowing it, somehow helps me able to think clearly. I can watch everything that goes on without going mad.

You get very bored that way. Yes, it’s interesting when a new prisoner arrives, but after two days, their yelling stops and the silence closes in on you. I had always been a very energetic person, so this gets me restless. I close my eyes and listen to the mutters of prisoners before falling to sleep myself. As far as I know, I don’t mutter in my sleep. Yet. I’m to sane for that.

This has become my life. A few times a day, Dementors will come into my cell with moldy, stale food and leave. I would pace my cell, eating the better looking parts of the meal and watching whatever is happening outside my cell. I usually never talk to people when they come by. Whether it’s prisoners or the Minister doing his yearly Azkaban inspection. I would completely ignore them, lost in my thoughts.

Depressing, I know, but that’s my life. I was trapped as a Black a kid, trapped with feelings in my school days, trapped in love afterwards, and now I’m trapped behind bars. I suppose it was to happen sooner or later. I think back on all the things I could have undone. The tiny mistakes I had done on the way. And now, here I sit. Taking the blame for something I never intended to happen.


A week into summer and I had already formed a pattern.

Every morning, I wake up before even my mum—the workaholic–-has shut off her alarm clock. You see, we live in a muggle area. When mum first moved here with my dad way before I was born, there were barely any Muggles. Maybe one or two, according to my mother. But now, we’re the only two wizards in the neighborhood. That makes me have to get up way early in the morning to sneak off into the woods behind my house to fly on my broomstick before the Muggles wake up.

I don’t mind waking up early, I never really have been able to sleep. My Uncle Scott(he’s really my great uncle) says it’s because I’m worried about my mother. She was in St. Mungo’s for a little more then a year after I was born. She went into a relapse when I was five, and it scared me. Luckily, mum had some friends over, so I didn’t have to deal with that crisis alone. But ever since then, I worried about my mum so much. She busies herself with work, knowing that it distracts her from any memories about my dad.

She never tried to hide the fact that my father was in Azkaban for killing 13 people, one being a close friend, in once curse. She tells me off his good side on the days she remembers, but never talks of the last years she spent with him. She got rid of every picture she could find of him in the house and took everything he owned and loved and stored it in the attic. Sometimes, I went up there, just to look at everything. Just because my dad is a crazed murdered, doesn’t mean I can’t learn things about him. Mum says that even though I look like dad, I act nothing like him. Besides, I am disgusted with the dark arts.

I have only one picture of my dad. He was in his 5th year at Hogwarts with his three best friends. I don’t know their names, for I have always been afraid to ask her. Doctors say that she has to stay away from things that remind her to much of Sirius Black, my father. That’s what triggered her relapse a few years back. And I care for my mum and worry, I don’t want her back in St. Mungo’s.

So anyways, I’m already have a pattern for my mornings and I’ve only been home from my first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for about a week. So far, I wake up early and fly, then I eat breakfast as my mum rushes around before going off to work. For the rest of the morning, I work on some homework that teachers gave us( I always stay on top of my work) or write a letter to the only person who doesn’t care I’m related to Sirius Black, Ginny Weasley. For the rest of the day, I do things with the house elf, Pinky. Sometimes I learn to cook, other times I make him do something fun with me. But being home alone every day is very boring.

Before I mentioned that only one person cares to talk to me. Well, most pure bloods know who I am, especially since I decided not to change my last name to my mother’s maiden name. The pure blooded people that know me tell mean stories about me and then the half blood and Muggleborn people stop talking to me. Except Ginny, who is indeed a pureblood. She’s always been around for me ever since we met at the train station last year. Of course, I get very bored with Ginny at times because all she ever does is talk about Harry Potter. I swear, she’s in love with him.

I never really talk to Harry Potter. He’s real famous and always seems to be occupied with something else. So, I had given up on talking to him.

As of now, a week into my summer holiday, I was in my room while my mum spoke with our new neighbors. Mrs. Wilson was the most obnoxiously, nosy person I’ve ever met. I’ve only spoken to her once and she already asks me questions about my dad and where he is. I lie, just like my mum told me too, and said that he walked out a few months after I was born. Everyone thinks that in the Muggle World.

Sometimes, I think it would be easier to just tell the truth about Dad being in jail. I hate lying. It makes be feel worse. I’m not afraid to admit that I get stressed out with my life, even if I haven’t exactly turned twelve yet.

Besides my mum being at work all the time, I have to try to stay at the top of my class in every subject, pretend that I don’t care that I’m related to a murderer, or act like I don’t see Dumbledore staring at me in pity at meals; I have a lot more to deal with then the average kid. The lies are hard and having no friends, except one, to help you through it sucks. I pretty much take care of myself, because my mum is to busy. I don’t remember my father at all, but I still have to deal with his arrest. I have to listen to the Slytherins whisper about how I’ll turn out just like my dad and be in the cell right next to his.

When I was old enough to realize that my mum worked so much so she would keep her mind busy, I tried the same thing. At first, I focused on flying. I’ve become very skilled, just as both my mum and dad were, according to Uncle Scott and Aunt Becky. But you can only get so good at something before there is barely anything to perfect. When I started school, I began to focus on my school work all the time. I reached the top of my class easily and maintain the spot with no problem. I read constantly and try to learn so many things just to distract myself. It’s become habit for me, like it has my mum. Neither of us can help it anymore.

Now, as I shuffle home after my morning flight, I stare at my house I grew up in. It was the house my dad inherited and my mum was never able to sell for reasons she never cared to share with me. I would never want to leave it. I checked my watch. It was a quarter till nine. Mum should have left for work an hour ago. I flew for a longer time then usual.

Quickly, I stored my broom, a Nimbus 2000, in the broom shed and ran inside. I groaned inwardly when I heard voices from the living room. Mum was home. And we had company.


“How do you do it? A single mother sending your son off to boarding school? You must make excellent money!”

I sighed. My new neighbor, Mrs. Jane Wilson, was very nosy. She’s lived next door for a week and has come over every day learning small details of my life. At first, they were little things; Where I had grown up, what I did for a living, etc. Then they got bigger; what happened to my husband,, how come I speak so little of him, why do I insist on working as much as possible, why is my son so ignorant when it comes to his father, etc.

As you can see, most questions did revolve around my husband. Mrs. Wilson seemed to find it insane that I lived in a beautiful–expensive–home, with a son that attends boarding school, and still have plenty of money.

I couldn’t tell Mrs. Wilson the truth. She was a muggle. Telling her that Hogwarts was open to all children that showed Magical ability, my home was inherited by my husband, who is now in jail for killing 13 people in one curse, and that I am one of the best Aurors in the Wizarding World and there for make a lot of money. That would make the older woman think I’ve gone crazy. So, I always told her exactly the same thing. Tristan went to the boarding school his father’s family attended for many, many years and has an automatic acceptance, with help from his aunt and uncle. I explain that Sirius Black, my husband, walked out two months after Tristan was born and that I worked in law enforcement, but never went into much detail.

That’s what I told everyone one my street. Yet, my explanations rose more questions. People wondered why I allowed Tristan to keep his last name as ‘Black’ while I had changed mine back to ‘Cullen’. They wondered why whenever I ever mentions Sirius, I would call him my husband, and not my ex. They wondered why I was so reluctant to speak of him, too.

I couldn’t answer these questions; I barely understood them myself. All I knew what that I never was able to say that I was not married to Sirius Black. I still had the promise ring, engagement ring, and wedding ring. I put it on sometimes, just to see what they looked like. They always seemed to belong on my hand. I barely every spoke of Sirius because I didn’t remember much. I was in St. Mungo’s after he was arrested and the potions messed with my memory. Sometimes, I would remember so much about Sirius and me. Other days, I would remember nothing, and sometimes I would remember bits and pieces of things that I never can get a full grasp on. My contact with the only remaining friend that I had in my school days that was still alive, Remus Lupin, I no longer talked to. He was around looking for jobs. I mainly talked to Ben Carlson, who I had gone out with. He never spoke of the past.

And why was Tristan still Tristan Black and me Libby Cullen? Simple.

Tristan was only eight when I asked. I had been signing my name as Cullen for a while and everyone considered me a Cullen once more, after eight years. I always called Tristan a Black though. So one day I asked.

“Tristan, you’ll be starting school soon,” I said.

“I know!” Tristan cheered and grinned.

“Kids might be a bit intimidated if they know who your father is. And you’re last name might make many uneasy.” I pointed out. Tristan knew his father was arrested. He had a right to know. He would find out sooner or later.

“What’s wrong with my name?”

“Tristan, honey, people have always been a bit scared of the Blacks. You’re father was supposed to be the different one, but he wasn’t. So, I’m giving you a choice. When you start school, do you want to be known as Tristan Black, or Tristan Cullen?” I asked, hoping he’s choose Cullen. The ones that know his name will hate him for his father’s choices.

“Black. That’s who I am, Mummy,” Tristan had said. And that settled it. He was Tristan Black.

After that, I sometimes noticed I would sign things as Libby Black. Something that always startled me. But he made his choice in a very mature way and I was not going to press. I was right though. Tristan’s only friend, Ginny Weasley, was the only one who didn’t care about his name. It was ironic, too, seeing how she was completely in love with Harry Potter, who was orphaned mainly because of Sirius. With the help of Voldemort.

“Well, you know,” I said to Mrs. Wilson now, very aware of the bored face on her daughter’s, Melanie, face, “I work very hard.”

“Still it’s incredibly unheard of for a single mother to—”

“Mrs. Wilson,” I began.

“Please, call me Jane,” Mrs. Wilson interrupted. I nodded.

“Jane, I assure you, I do work very hard. Today, I was lucky enough to get the day off.” I said, putting on my fake smile. All my smiles were fake. I don’t think I ever gave a real smile to anyone. Not even Tristan.

“I’m glad, too! Tristan shouldn’t be left home alone so much! He’s so young and needs an adult around. Actually, he needs a man to look up to!” Mrs. Wilson said. I felt my face flush. Was it my fault what Sirius decided to do?

“Tristan gets along fine. He works just as hard as I do and has his interests to keep him busy,” I defended, insulted. Was she calling me a bad mother? If she knew what my life was like, what Tristan’s life was like, she would not be talking so bold.

“I’m just saying. . .” Mrs. Wilson said, smiling, “That’s why I brought my Melanie over today. She’s the same age as Tristan. They should get along fine. Just fine.”

It was as if Tristan had been waiting for this. I heard the kitchen door open and slam shut, as it always did the past few mornings. Tristan had returned from his morning flight. I was surprised Tristan didn’t want to be on the Quidditch team. He loved flying more then anyone I’ve ever known. He was best at Beater, from what he told me, but he would never try out for the team. He says it’ll take away from his study time and he cannot waste his time focusing on other such things.

“It would be nice if Tristan has a friend,” I said with another fake smile. I just hoped Melanie didn’t take after her mother.

“Mum?” I heard Tristan called from the hallway curiously. I barely remembered what Sirius’s voice sounded like, but I knew it was just like Sirius’.

“In here,” I called. Tristan’s figure appeared in the door way. He was only eleven, twelve in a few months, but already tall and filling out. Just like Sirius had been. I noted that my memories were clearer today then usual.

Tristan looked around the room, his grey eyes revealing nothing of what he was thinking. He had always been good at giving his eyes a blank look and hiding his thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, I regretted that. People need to know what you feel. Sometimes, they can help. Sometimes.

“Hi,” he said after a minute. He was good at being fake like me. I knew my only son was miserable with his father being in jail and me always working. But I knew he understood. Tristan understood everything.

“Tristan!” Mrs. Wilson cried happily, she looked at Melanie, “Didn’t I tell you he was adorable?” Tristan flushed, “How are you dear? Okay?”

“Very well, actually,” Tristan said politely.

“Good, good,” Mrs. Wilson was silent for a second, then pulled Melanie forward, “This is my daughter, Melanie.”

“Hi,” Tristan said, looking at girl with honey brown eyes and dark brown hair. She was pale skinned and thin, unnaturally so, actually. Her face would be pretty, but her hair was hanging in front of her face as if she was trying to hide. I thought that was a bit, odd. Melanie said nothing. But like I said, Tristan understood everything. Even people. He smiled kindly.

“Would you like to see my room?” he asked. Melanie looked startled by this offer, but nodded, blushing as she did so.

Melanie was with Tristan all morning. Mrs. Wilson had left, telling me she had other things to attend to. I happily said good bye and offered to allow Melanie to stay for dinner if she likes. But Melanie didn’t. She left an hour before and Tristan came into my study where I was working on a report for my job.

“Have fun with Melanie?” I asked curiously.

“No!” Tristan said, “She never talks! Everything is a nod and blushing! Do you know how annoying that is?”

“Ever think she’s shy and intimidated?” I asked, with a tiny smile.

“Why would she be intimidated?” Tristan asked. He understood everything except when it came to his own life.

“Because she thinks you’re cute,” I suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Cute?” Tristan asked, “Mum, I’m eleven. If I weren’t best friends with Ginny, I would think girls had cooties.”

“Maybe, but Tristan, I remember back when I was at school,” I paused and Tristan froze. It was always like this when we both knew I was going to remembering something about his father. I felt like something tugged at my heart before I continued, “Girls would be melting at your father’s feet when he barely glanced at him. Starting from day one.”

Tristan stared at me for a moment before sitting down on a chair by the door. I knew he was going to press for more, try and help me remember, but I wasn’t sure how much I could tell him. That pained me. I would rather suffer and remember then live like this, struggling to remember. It might have been better for me when recovering.

“Did Dad like any of those girls?” Tristan asked quietly. I thought for a moment, biting my lip. I was getting small bits of memories.

“No. Not really. He told me one night. . .he told me he was lonely for female company sometimes and would randomly snog a girl. Nothing ever serious. . .” I said, before I even grasped the memory myself. It slipped away seconds after I said it.

“What about you? Did you fall for him like that?” Tristan asked. I laughed. He asked the thing that was always on my mind. I looked at Tristan sadly, shaking my head.

“I can’t remember. I just know I started going out with him in our 6th year,” I said, shrugging. Tristan sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t be getting much more out of me today. I knew it, too, and turned back to my report.

“Ginny and her family won some money,” Tristan said, conversationally, “They’re leaving for Egypt to visit her brother, Bill, in a few days.”

“Oh, I know, Arthur was telling me about it just the other day. They deserve the money,” I said glancing over at Tristan, who looked at bit bummed. I gave him a curious look which he easily read.

“Ginny was supposed to come and hang out here,” he said, pouting.

“Sorry, hun, maybe when she gets back?” I suggested. Tristan shrugged.

I heard the doorbell ring. I really hoped that it wasn’t Mrs. Wilson. I had had enough of her today. Tristan sighed, echoing my thoughts and went up to his room. He was lucky, as a kid, he was not one to sit and have tea with a loud, nosy woman. Unlike me, who was the adult and needed to be a good hostess.

The house elf, Pinky, was not allowed to get the door in case it was a Muggle who was ringing it so impatiently. Instead, he stood just outside the kitchen door, ready to great the guest if it was a wizard. I nodded at the elf, who seemed determined to keep the house as clean as possible, despite his old age.

I checked my reflection in the mirror real quick. My brown curls were just as tight and bouncy as they had always been. My make up was a bit smudged and you could tell how tired I was. My skin was paler then it usually was and my eyes were sad and empty. I had to look away before I got to depressed. I never really thought I was pretty, but now, I was getting older and more exhausted then ever.

Knowing I was not going to look any better by just staring in the mirror, I turned and faced the door. I put my hand on the handle and pulled it opened. I gasped at the person in the doorway, shocked at whom I saw.

“Remus. . .”

A/N: This wasn't supposed to go up for another two weeks. But someone asked me how it was going and I suddenly had the urge to post it. Thank Hamdi_potterfan101 for that. Haha.

Anyways, I do hope you all will enjoy this one as much as you did the other. I never really like sequels because they're never as good as the first, so I hope this one is at least close.

Uhh, yeah, those of who that have read my xanga, you know that I'm not going to be updating everyday. About once a week is all that I'll really get to post. I'm busy with school, finals are coming and yeah, i'm just busy, especially with six other stories going. I don't know how I'll manage, to tell you the truth. . .

Remember to leave a review and tell me what you think!!!!


Chapter 2: Please, Remember Me
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR except for what I twisted to fit MY plot. Yay. And lyrics by Tim McGraw.

Chapter Two
Please, Remember Me

Remember me when you're out walkin
When the snow falls high outside your door
Late at night when youre not sleepin
And moonlight falls across your floor
When I cant hurt you anymore

Youll find better love
Strong as it ever was
Deep as the river runs
Warm as the morning sun
Please remember me
Please remember me

--Tim McGraw "Please, Remember Me"


He looked older and more worn then I did. He had premature wrinkles and was pale and sickly looking. His brown hair already had streaks of grey in it due to his transformations. More scars then I remember were across his face and he looked honestly exhausted. His robes were tattered and torn. I remembered the tattered robes back in school. He never could afford to buy new ones every month. Some scars were familiar, but those brown eyes were the most comforting thing I’ve felt since I’ve been released from St. Mungo’s.

It was my old friend, Remus Lupin.

I could not think of a reason of why Remus would be standing at my door. I blinked a few times just to make sure my eyes were playing tricks on me or I was going into a relapse. But no, Remus was there. Standing casually as if he knocked on my door everyday.

“Hello, Libby,” Remus finally said.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, then feeling rude, I stepped back, “Come on in. I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Twelve years to be exact,” Remus agreed.

“Much too long,” I said and led the way into the living room, “Pinky, if you can get us some tea, that would be great,” I said to the house elf as I passed by.

“No, no, Libby, I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were,” Remus said quickly, shaking his head. I smiled.

“And we can talk about my well-being over tea,” I said stubbornly, “Have a seat,” I pointed to the couch in the room. I sat in an arm chair. Remus sat awkwardly. He seemed to be a bit nervous about seeing me again. We sat in silence for about a minute before Remus looked at me.

“How are you?” he asked curiously. I looked down at my hands and bit my lower lip. I knew he wouldn’t make me talk about Sirius if I didn’t want to. But he would listen if I did. The thought relaxed me more then I thought possible.

“Stressed, confused, lonely,” I shrugged, “The list goes on.”

“I’m sorry. I was hoping you would have moved on,” Remus said quietly. I laughed darkly.

“I don’t remember much, Remus. When you don’t remember things, you tend to hold on tighter then you would have before,” I explained. Remus looked at me more intensely. Not fully understanding.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Pinky returned with the tea and I poured the cups out.

“I remember tiny bits and pieces of the seven years before James and Lily died. I cling to those pieces, trying to remember more and feel just more painful memories. I don’t know exactly why I can’t let go. I just feel like there is a gapping hole in the whole thing.” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. Remus nodded.

“I have a feeling there’s a bit piece of information I’ve forgotten, too,” Remus said. Then changed the subject. I was grateful for that, “And how’s Tristan been getting along?”

“Better then I would have thought,” I shrugged, “I thought working all the time, going to St. Mungo’s for madness, and him pretty much being on his own would make him careless and messed up. But he’s a great kid. I can call him down if you would like?”

“Yes, please do. I’d love to meet him,” Remus said, somewhat eagerly. I smiled and called to Pinky to get Tristan. Remus and I waited in silence before I heard heavy footsteps of my eleven-year-old drag himself across the hallway and down the stairs.

He entered the living room cautiously. Tristan looked at Remus and then back at me. He had a curious glint in his eye, but smiled at he walked deeper into the room. Remus’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the kid in front of him. The black hair, grey eyes, handsome face, even for one so young, and dimple in his left cheek reminded Remus of Sirius. It probably felt like looking into the past again.

“Um,” Tristan said.

“Oh, Remus, this is Tristan.” I said, smiling, “And Tristan, this an old friend of mine; Remus Lupin.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Tristan said, as he shook hands with Remus.

“Please, call me Remus,” Remus said, wincing at the term ‘sir.’

“Remus,” Tristan repeated, looking uncomfortable. It was rare for Tristan to call even my closet friends that are over frequently by their first names and when he did, it was always when we were all very laid back.

“You look just like your father,” Remus said, looking so amazed.

“I know,” Tristan muttered. He was always a bit shy when first meeting someone. I smiled softly. Maybe having Remus around would be good for Tristan.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Remus asked.

“No,” Tristan shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes, “Should I?”

“Last time I saw you, you were no older then three. I guess you were still too young to remember much. You are going into your second year at Hogwarts, correct?” Remus asked. Tristan’s eyes lit up in a way that always made him look his age.

“Yes, I am! I can’t wait!” he said, sounding giddy and excited. I had to smile myself. I missed Tristan while he was away.

“I can’t either,” Remus said, receiving curious glances from both me and Tristan. He laughed, “Dumbledore needed to fill the space for Defense Against the Dark Arts and because I’m having difficulty holding a job, he asked me and I, of course, said I would be glad to.”

“That’s great, Remus,” I smiled.

“Yeah. I’m eager to meet Harry,” Remus said. I looked at the ground.

“Dumbledore had warned me countless times to stay away from him,” I explained.

“He’s really nice! Decent for someone so famous,” Tristan spoke up, “I met him last year. My friend, Ginny, is like in love with him.”


Remus Lupin.

Mum mentioned the name more then once when remembering something from her past. I was surprised to be introduced to him, but more surprised to see that he looked older, worn, and ill. The scars across his face, shabby robes, and on he said that he had a hard time holding a job made me suspicious, so I decided to do a bit of research. I didn’t want to be nosy or anything, my curiosity just got the best of me!

He was staying with us, Remus was. He said he was going to go find a flat to rent out for a few weeks before school started. Mum told him that wasn’t necessary and she insisted that he stay at our house.

At first, I was awkward around Remus. I mean, not only was he going to be my professor when I return to school, but he was also one of my mother’s friends from school and he remembered a lot more then my mom could. Except, something told me that he didn’t remember a huge part of what happened the night the Potters’ died. But as days passed, I got used to the whole thing and actually became close to Remus.

We had a lot in common. We both were bookworms and were always very hard working when it came to school. Remus always liked Defense Against the Dark Arts, and so have I. It was one of my favorite classes. And though Remus was an adult, he had a playful, kid side to him. For the first time in twelve years, I could act like a kid. He was good company while Mum was at work and Remus would tease me and make me do fun, kid type things.

He took me to Diagon Alley more then once and we went from store to store joking around. I guess you could say that within two weeks of Remus staying with me and Mum, he was becoming sort of a father figure to me. And though he did disappear once in July, he was still pretty much always around.

One morning when I returned from my morning flight, I heard commotion in the kitchen. I tiptoed over to the door and peeked in. I didn’t like to eavesdrop, but curiosity was always getting the best of me and I couldn’t help but want to know what was going on half the time.

I was surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, and Remus all sitting around my mum who looked shocked and startled. I listened quietly and picked up small clues of what they were talking about.

“—two Aurors just in case, Libby,” Kingsley said. He was a cool guy, fun at times but very serious at the same time.

“Why do you want me to go?” Mum asked in a monotone voice.

“I need two of the best Aurors,” Fudge said, twisting his green bowler hat his in hands, “I would ask someone else, but they are all busy on other jobs and you are the only one left.”

“We promise that you were our last choice to come.” Kingsley said in a comforting tone. Mum was biting her lip.

“We promise Black won’t even be sane enough to know who you are,” Fudge said. Black? What were they talking about?

“Okay, fine. I’ll go,” Mum caved.

That night when I was sitting on the floor of my room writing a letter to Ginny, who was currently in Egypt visiting her brother, Charlie. Mum knocked on my doorframe and I looked up and grinned.

“Hey, Mum!” I said happily.

“Hey,” Mum smiled and sat down on my bed. She was distracted and I know she came in here to discuss whatever it was the Minister and Kingsley wanted before. Probably another job or something that will take most of her time.

“You alright?” I asked my mum in concern. Mum looked up and nodded.

“No,” she said, still nodding, “The Minister came to see me today. He offered me a job to do. It will include me traveling away for a few days, and I’ll probably come back a complete mess.”

“What is it?” I asked, still not understanding the conversation I over heard before.

“The Minister needs two Aurors to travel with him to Azkaban prison for a yearly inspection. The Auror that usually accompanies him and Kingsley cannot make it and all the others are busy with other jobs and such. I was the last choice and I told them that I would go.” Mum explained. I stood up, shocked.

“Mum! What if you see Dad? It’s to risky, with the Dementors all over the place! You’ll end up back in St. Mungo’s!” I yelled.

“Tristan, settle down,” Mum scolded, “I thought of that too, but what if I can finally remember something, too?”


The Dementors aren’t as bad today. My foggy mind is a bit more aware of things. I wondered if it’s time for the yearly Azkaban inspection? The Dementors always have less of an effect, since most of them are sent away for a temporary period time so it isn’t as bad for the Minister and his Aurors that usually come along.

I usually ignore the Minister when he shows up. They will just put more Dementors around my cell if they think I’m sane enough to escape. Don’t know how I’d do that. I’m extremely weak and though I may be able to slip through the bars, the Dementors would be all over me in a second. I was extremely bored now. I was pacing my cell, thinking as I usually did.

Then I heard the voices.

I took my usual seat in the darkest corner of the cell. It was where I wasn’t exactly seen. Just my silhouette which usually rose questions as to who was in there, still and quiet, not muttering or rocking nervously, crazed glint in my eyes. The group seemed to be taking forever to pass by so I could go back to my pacing and thinking. Then, I caught a name, which I knew was most likely my imagination.

The group came into view and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I would know that woman anywhere. The hair that I found so attractive, the eyes that I could stare into all day and still not be enough, the face I loved and kissed . . . My memories had forgotten how beautiful she honestly was and now, seeing her for the first time in twelve years, memories I had long forgotten due to the Dementors came back so suddenly I felt dizzy.

“Libby?” I spoke for the first time since I’ve been thrown in this place. The group froze, looking over into my cell where I was hidden in the shadow. I stumbled from my spot and almost knocked myself out with the iron bars that kept me in the damp square. The look on Libby’s face was pure dread, horror even. My heart sank as I remembered the prophecy.

No memory will be there as the lover takes the blame of the murder the Dark Lord commits. . .

Somehow, some way, Libby did not remember my innocence. That is why Libby had never fought to get me out of Azkaban. To track down Peter Pettigrew herself. My heart felt more damaged then it already was, but I needed to hear Libby’s voice. She was just staring at me, memories she had probably forgotten returning to her in flashes. I looked away for a minute.

“Libby, please, remember me,” I croaked.

“I remember you,” Libby said, tears glistening her eyes, but I knew they weren’t tears of happiness. Not at all.

“Do you want to remember me?” I asked. Libby shook her head.


“Black,” the Minister spat as a man I remembered to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, pulled Libby behind him as if trying to protect him.

“Minister,” I nodded towards him politely, “How’s the inspection going?”

I could see the shock in his face. Who would think that you would come across a sane person in Azkaban when they’ve been there for twelve years? I would have to say I would be shocked myself. And worried.

“Very well,” the Minister said carefully, then as if to warn me, “The Dementors are very good guards and nothing can get past them.”

“I’m very friendly with the Dementors, Minister, I know how they act,” I said easily. The Minister glanced at Libby and Kingsley.

“How are you Kingsley?” I asked. He looked startled that I was addressing him. Probably even more so that I actually knew who he was!

“I’m very well,” he said, and looked around as if waiting for someone to jump out and say just kidding.

“What’s going on in the outside world?” I asked, looking down the dark, gloomy corridor, “I only hear a few things from those that scream at night and mumble in their sleep.”

“And how do you even understand and comprehend what they are saying?” Libby asked in her beautiful voice, “You’re supposed to be mad!”

“I’ve always been a little bit mad, Libby. You know that,” I said smiling slightly. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Just seeing her has made my stay in Azkaban better! My eyes traveled to the newspaper that Fudge was holding. The people on it were waving in front of pyramids. I could see a rat on the shoulder of one boy. Curiosity got the best of me.

“Come along, Ms. Cullen, we have a lot more to inspect,” the Minister began to walk away.

“Wait, Minister,” I croaked, “Can I see your paper?”

“Why?” Fudge asked suspiciously.

“I, er, miss doing the crossword!” I lied. Never in my life have I had the patience to do the crossword and I really hoped Libby didn’t remember that.

“Um,” Fudge hesitated before handing me his paper. He began to walk off quickly and Kingsley and Libby followed him.

“Bye Libby,” I said as she walked by. She paused and stared at me for a moment, pain in those beautiful eyes. Green with flecks of brown. I had to smile at how she always thought they were a swampy color when they were anything but.

“Good bye Sirius,” Libby whispered and then she was gone.

I turned my attention to the paper. I read the articles quickly, it being hard in the dim light. Then I studied the picture. Weasley was the family. I remembered meeting them a long time ago. Arthur Weasley always said good morning to me on his way to work. Sometimes, I was even in the elevator with him. Once, I was in the elevator with his pregnant wife who was bringing Arthur lunch. Both were very nice people, but I knew them to be very poor.

The rat caught my eye each time I looked at the picture. There was something rather familiar about it. I pulled the paper closer to my eyes and studied it harder. Then I saw the tiny feet on the rat. Squinting, I tried to make it out more clearly, for it was very small. Then I gasped.

The rat was missing a toe! The Weasley’s pet rat was missing a toe! Peter Pettigrew could turn into a rat! He cut off his finger when he faked his death! That’s what became of Peter. He turned to his rat shape and moved in with the Weasleys to know what was going on in the Wizarding world!

Anger boiled up inside me and the wheels in my head began to work better then they had in a long time. The Dementors sensed my anger and how much more sane I was becoming and started sucking the air, but they couldn’t capture my feeling, for it was not a happy feeling. Not at all.

Revenge wasn’t a happy thing.

I was planning on getting Peter back. Planning on killing him and getting revenge for what he did to James and Lily. To Libby and Tristan and Remus. To Harry. To me even. I don’t care if I am kissed afterwards. As long as I know Peter is dead and James and Lily are free to rest in peace, I will willingly be kissed.

First, I would have to break out of Azkaban. Something no one had ever done before. But I believed I knew how to do it. All I needed was to gain enough strength to transform into a dog, my animagus shape. Then I could slip off. Dementors can’t sense animals as well as they do people.

I was going to get revenge. And while I got my revenge, I was going to remind Libby of everything that happened from the day I met her.

A/N:The plot thickens!! Gasp! This is where the plot seriously begins. hahaha. Yeah. I'm really happy now.

Wanna know why? Of course! I just got back from a Love Arcade concert. They're actually prtty awesome. I thought they sucked, but they have an AWESOME sound live. Amazing really. And this one lady, Sarah Vanell was opening for them and she was really good. Had a nice voice. She's still new and need as MUCH HELP AS SHE CAN GET to get her debut CD going. haha.

Anyways. . .yeah, because I'm don't have much of chp. 3 written *ducks and avoids the stuff animals readers throw at me* I will not give you a preview. But i WILL tell you what to expect! Yay! Just liet me get my notes:

What to expect in Chapter Three(which is still currently untitled, but I think i have an idea):

-Sirius' Escape(gasp!)
-Libby freaks out
-Tristan get the newpaper and makes plans. . .

OMG! Are you excited and pumped for the next chapter? Yeah, I bet only one thing in the list made since, right? Yeah. It's an interesting chapter. Yup!

Okay, this is getting long.

Love you!

Chapter 3: The Suffering
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: Everything is JKRs with little twists and additions of my own. Lyrics are by the talented Aiden.

Chapter Three
The Suffering

Shadows and hearts
In which to carry your rule aloud
Can you believe we are
The shock of existence now
Something's amiss
And this generation has been found
We’re brought to the underground

Waste me to your dark dream
And taste me until all I see
A thousand sparks we fake
Love futility
I see the rain

We are those things that you despise
(We will sing)
We are the suffering alive tonight

--Aiden "the Suffering"


It took weeks for me to actually get strong enough to even try and turn into a dog. I ate all the food that the Dementors gave me and tried my hardest to ignore the moldy smell coming from it. I hung onto the small, hopeful thought of revenge and my innocence. There were more Dementors then usual around my cell and I knew it was because the Minister was afraid.

I was going to make his worse fear come true, too. Anyone’s worse fear. A convict, even if I never really did anything, escaping from a prison surrounded my soul sucking fiends. Ha. I’m going to completely screw up the wizarding world. People are going to think Voldemort is back or something stupid.

But I don’t care what other people think or are doing. All I want is to get Peter. I was to kill him. Free Libby from whatever she’s under and let everyone be happy and more peaceful.

One day, there was some commotion down a few floors below. Immediately, all the dementors left to go settle it and get something to eat. I was alone. For a moment, I just stood there, wondering if I should try it now. If I can only get half way, I’ll be stuck, if I couldn’t turn back, then I would have to run then and I still didn’t have everything planned out. But I might not get another chance to try it again. I waited for a minute and the shut my eyes, remembering just how to transform into a dog.

Nothing happened for a long time, and then my bones began to shift, but not in a painful type way, a tickling sensation went down my spine and through the rest of my body and then, I opened my eyes again. My sense of smell was stronger and I could hear better. I looked behind me to see it had worked! I ran in a circle a few times and resisted the urge to bark. I would probably be caught for that.

I shut my eyes again and turned back into a person. It was a bit harder, but it worked. I was ready. Now, all I needed to do was prepare myself to get the rest of the escape planned out and I would be ready.

I’ll admit that I was kind of scared to escape. I didn’t know exactly where I was nor did I know what time of year it was. It could be the middle of winter and I could go out there and freeze to death. Plus, I had no idea what obstacles stood in the way of the exit for this place.

I let a few more days go by. I knew it was days because the Dementors only fed us prisoners once a day. They opened the door to get in to give us food. I could probably slip through the bars as a person, but not as a dog. I was wider as a dog. I had to do it soon before I lost the energy I built up again. As I ate moldy bread, I decided that I would do it tomorrow. When the give me my daily meal of garbage, I’ll slip past them.

That day was very stressful, considering I sat there. Time actually was passing slowly for once. I paced my cell, sat down and twiddled my thumbs, paced again. Time was going backwards I felt. My nerves were building and I wanted to just cave in and decide I wasn’t going to go. But then I stared at the picture of Peter on the Weasley boy’s shoulder. And all the determination to get out of this place built up again.

The Dementors sucked the air feeling the rise of emotion and then I stood and smirked. Something told me the “food” would be coming soon. I took a deep breath and transformed. The Dementors sucked the air harder, since it was harder to sense animals for them. One Dementor showed up with the mold that I was to eat. I moved closer to the gate and it opened it slowly, as it always did. It came into the cell and I slipped past it and ran for it.

The Dementors, able to sense me a tiny bit, realized I was disappearing. I picked up my pace, running down the corridor and taking a turn that I hoped was in the right direction. Stairs. There were stairs. I had no idea how many floors up I was. I could hear the breathing of the Dementors behind me, but I didn’t dare look behind me. I kept running. I went down the stairs, jumping off the last five or six, and sliding into the wall before I continued down that corridor. I could hear people yelling, mumbling, and more Dementors were sensing me.

I kept going down three more flights of stairs and slid out of the grasps of about three or four more Dementors before going down one more flight of stairs and seeing huge wooden doors at the far end of the corridor. Breathing hard and ignoring the screaming stitch in my side, I ran for the doors. Somehow, I don’t know how, the doors opened for me. Magic, I felt, I was doing uncontrollable magic, I think. I wasn’t sure. Not quite. All I was sure of was that the Dementors were chasing me, I was scared out of my head, and relieved to be getting out of here.

I went through the doors and, ignoring the rain that just so happen to be coming down and giving this whole thing a more dramatic effect, I dodged to the left before running straight, hopefully the rain would distract the Dementors from sensing me. I saw a beach ahead and curse silently to myself. Water. And ocean. I had no idea if I enough energy to swim let alone cross an ocean. I stopped, my paws get splashed by the freezing water. I looked over my shoulder.

Azkaban was huge, I have to say. How many Wizards are actually in there, I don’t know, but the place was a huge castle, at least ten stories high. It was the darkest black you could think of and looked like a haunted place. Which, it sort of was. I stared at it and shivered and then saw all the Dementors gliding from it. Windows, doors, from around corners. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever witness. With a cry, more of a gasp, but a cry as a dog, I splashed into the water, swallowing a bunch of water and then swimming off.

Yes, I was swimming. My legs screamed with exhaust and pain, begging me to just stop, but I kept going. I kept pushing myself. Dementors, unable to sense me thanks to the rain, water that I was drowning in, and my animal form, past right above me, not even knowing I was under them. I didn’t slow down though. Or even pause for a break. I kept pushing myself.

I don’t know how long I as swimming, really. It was raining one moment, then it stopped and the moon was out. Half full. I have to say the open night sky really kept me going. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it. It was around now I saw a boat. A big boat. I swam towards it and climbed onto a little ledge, where I was hidden and able to relax away from the prying eyes of the Muggles that were aboard. I didn’t dare sleep, but then I saw the sun begin to rise and I just stared. It was hours that I had been laying there. The boat began to move and I prayed that it was moving in the right direction.

The boat kept moving all morning and all afternoon. I wasn’t bored. I was used to sitting around doing nothing like this. And this time I was outside in open air. Not long in a cell of a prison filled with mad people. The boat started to slow early evening. I got off early seeing a place filled with tress and other such things that I could hopefully sleep in. My legs were tired and I could barely keep my head above ground, but then I reached the shore.

I shook my self just as a dog would and stumbled forward. I just made it into the brush when I collapsed. The last thing I saw was the sun before I fell into a long, deep sleep.


I was finally able to relax.

I didn’t remember any more horrible memories and the effect the Dementors had on me has faded and gone. Jacob, my brother that was a Healer, had stayed with me, Tristan, and Remus, to make sure I didn’t have another relapse. I was grateful for him coming. He had his own family to take care of.

Tristan was so happy to see that I was okay. He didn’t ask me if I saw Sirius or not. He didn’t ask about anything, knowing I would tell him when I wanted too.

But tonight, a nice clear night with the half moon bright, I wanted to tell him. He had the right to know. I don’t know what I thought this, but I felt like Tristan should know everything I knew about his father. He was curious, I knew he was.

“Hey,” I said stepping into his room. Tristan glanced up from where he was sitting, cleaning his broomstick. He smiled.

“Hey, mum, feeling better?” he asked.

“Much,” I replied and sat down next to him. Tristan was still a little kid, I felt, and I wished he would stay that way. But August 12th was only two days away and he would be twelve years old. No longer my eleven year old.

“That’s good. It was taking longer then I had thought it would. Remus was worried too. He was afraid that it would have been permanent,” Tristan explained, getting up and putting his broom back in the corner of the room where it stayed until he went off to Hogwarts again.

“No, not permanent. I think I was just a bit shocked,” I explained, bitting my lip, unsure of how to handle this. He had to know though. Something told me that Tristan had to know.

“I would think. The Dementors would be—”

“I saw your father,” I blurted out. Tristan stopped what he was doing and looked at me. The way he looked at me pained me. It wasn’t a sad or scared look, more of a shocked, curious look. A look that made him look more like Sirius then ever. I looked away not able to take it. Tristan reminded me of Sirius so much it sometimes hurt.

“You saw. . .”Tristan let his voice trail off and then hurried over to me and hugged me tight. I eagerly returned the hug, but I didn’t cry for once. And I was glad for that because I didn’t think that would look too good for me from Tristan’s point of view.

“He was so sane, Tristan, not at all crazy,” I said, pushing Tristan away to look at him, “The Minister put more security around his cell just in case. There’s no way he would get past the Dementors either—”

“Libby,” Remus said coming up to the door and stumbling into the room, “Libby, Kingsley was just in the fire. He said there’s an emergency at work. All Aurors need to be there.” he said urgently.

“Okay,” I said immediately getting into my work mode, “I’ll see you later Tristan. Bye.” I heard Tristan feebly say good bye to me, nodded towards Remus and went to my room where I changed into my robes as fast as I could and the apperated to work.

The Ministry was a wreck. People were running back and forth everywhere and there seemed to be panic. And this was only on the first floor. Fudge was there, looking frantic, shocked, and a bit scared in the front of the room with some people that I knew worked at Azkaban to make sure the Dementors were under control. Dumbledore was there too. Kingsley found me and pulled me up towards them. I saw my Auror in training, Tonks, looking crazy in her blue hair, and she came to my side.

“Something big has happened,” she said excitedly, “They called everyone in!”

“Everyone?” I repeated, I looked at Kingsley.

“I haven’t a clue,” he said in his deep voice.

“Attention!” the Minister said loudly, “Please, everyone, attention!” everyone quieted down, Fudge met my eyes for a moment and then looked away looking pained. Tonks and I exchanged looked and I frowned, “We have a crisis. A horrible crisis. It seems like the impossible has happened—”

“Impossible?” Tonks whispered, “How is it impossible if it happened?”

Kingsley hushed her, but I smiled a bit. Dumbledore looked at me now and nodded at me, as if trying to comfort me. I was getting very worried now.

“It seems that we’ve had an escape from Azkaban,” Fudge said, whispered fluttered through the hall and I gasped, “Despite the number of Dementors, someone has managed to escape the prison. We need all the Aurors to get ready to search. Aurors in training and all. We need to get this to the Muggle World, too, so they are on the watch.”

“Who is it, Minister?” someone yelled out. Fudge looked at me again and my eyes grew wide and I felt my legs collapse from under me.

“No,” I muttered, “No!”

“The man that escaped was. . .was Sirius Black,” the Minister said.

I let out a strangled sob and then, Kingsley catching me before I fell to the ground hard and Tonks kneeling beside me, I completely broke down crying. It was impossible to break out of Azkaban, yet Sirius managed too. He was always able to manage such impossible things. And now he’s done it so big that the entire Wizarding World and Muggle world will be put into frenzy.

“Miss Cullen, breath,” it was Dumbledore’s voice now. I shook my head and took shaking breaths, still sobbing and unable to stand. Tonks was pushing my hair out of my face, trying to be comforting but in shock herself. It was her cousin that just escaped anyways.

“Get her home, Tonks, please,” the Minister said, “Get her to a familiar place and help her relax. She’s going to need it.”

“Yes sir,” Tonks said. I felt her take tight hold of my arm and we apperated.

I saw the familiar place of my living room and was able to breath clearer, though I was still unable to think clearly. The man that escaped was Sirius Black. . .How? Why? I was finally getting better! Tristan and me are the happiest we can be. Even Remus is back. Why is he back! Why now? It’s been twelve years. He shouldn’t be able to even think of getting out!



I heard Remus and Tristan. Tristan voice calmed me.

“What happened?” Remus asked, looking at Tonks, who looked a bit dazed, though I was to distracted to really notice.

“T-the Minister announced a job. Libby just collapsed.” Tonks stammered, “He told me to take her home.”

“Come on, Libby,” Remus said, lifting me from the ground bridal style.

“Is she okay?” I heard Tristan asked.

“Send for Jacob, Tristan,” Remus called over his shoulder, I clung to Remus, still sobbing. He took me to my room and laid me down in bed. He didn’t realize he did it, but he laid me on the side Sirius used to sleep on and the side I usually avoided. Yet, now it was comforting and I took a few deep breaths before finally relaxing. Remus waited until I dozed off before leaving.


I had never seen Mum so messed up. I have visited her in St. Mungo’s and even seen her break down at home, but as I wrote a shaky note to Jacob, and then to Ben, about Mum and sent them off, I have to say I was a bit scared. No one would tell me what was going on with my Mum. I kept asking Tonks but she shook her head.

Remus came into the kitchen as Pinky, our house-elf, gave Tonks and me some tea. Tonks stood up clumsily. She was obviously attracted to Remus, I have to admit. I smiled a bit and then saw that Remus was staring at Tonks for a minute before shaking his head and sitting down next to me.

“Is Mum okay?” I asked.

“She’s sleeping,” Remus muttered.

“What happened?” I asked Tonks.

“I-I don’t want to say,” Tonks said a bit nervously.

We waited in silence when there was a knock at the door. I jumped up and ran towards the door. I yanked it open to see Ben and Jacob there. Jacob didn’t even look at me, he just ran into the house and up to Libby’s room, followed by Remus and Tonks. Ben looked at me though, knowing I probably needed some comforting, too. I was more scared now that Uncle Jake was here.

“You alright?” Ben asked, shutting the door behind him.

“No one will tell me what’s wrong,” I admitted.

“Is she okay?” Ben asked, not hearing me tell him I didn’t know anything. I frowned, feeling a bit neglected.

“She was sleeping when you arrived,” I shrugged. Ben looked at me and bit his lip, “You should go to bed. You’re mother should be fine in the morning.”

“I won’t sleep,” I said. Ben shrugged.

“Might as well try,” he said. I nodded and went up the stairs and to my room. Ben had followed to make sure I did what I was told. I shut the door to my room and changed out of my clothes and crawled into bed. I laid down for a minute and shut my eyes, but just like I thought, I couldn’t sleep.

I laid in bed till morning, hearing people walk around till about four in the morning when they all went to guest rooms and couches. It was around six in the morning that I climbed out of bed and, still in my pajamas, I went into the hall. It was silent and the sun was just beginning to rise. I tiptoed down the hall and peeked into my mum’s room. She was under the covers, but I couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or not.

“She’s going to be fine, Tristan,” Uncle Jacob said from the stairs. He had some tea and looked exhausted. My uncle was a Healer and took his job very seriously, especially when it came to my Mum. His sister.

“She will?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded and then motioned for me to come down stair, “Becky and Scott are coming later to stay. This house has enough room, too, I always wondered why Libby kept it. It’s way to big for two people.”

“I like it,” I said as we entered the kitchen, “Mum said it helped her get more used to everything that happened when the Potters died.”

“But what about you, Tristan, you don’t even remember that night and you seemed to be one of the people that were most effected by it,” Jake said. I shrugged.

“I know what Mum told me. Everything else, I just put together myself,” I explained. Jake and I were sitting in the living room now, having left the kitchen with some tea for me. I would have preferred cocoa, but I wasn’t going to correct Pinky. He was getting old anyways. Remus was in the living room with his own tea looking into the fire, frowning.

“What has your Mum told you?” Jake asked as we all took our seats. Remus looked up curious.

“Just that the Potters had picked Dad for their secret keeper. And that Dad was really working for Voldemort the whole time and told him where the Potters’ were hiding. And that they were killed and Dad went running. Peter Pettigrew went after him and cornered him in a street. Dad cursed Peter killing him and a dozen Muggles. The Ministry caught him and then Mum and I were alone.” I shrugged.

“It’s hard to believe he did it,” Remus said. Jacob nodded.

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously.

“Libby and Sirius were too in love for their own good. Or at least, we had though Sirius was in love with Libby as much,” Jake said, “I remember one night after their sixth year, Libby had a horrible nightmare. She was having them all summer. And then this one was horrible. She was shaking and crying and just so scared. I had run next door and got Sirius. When he came Libby calmed so fast it was unnatural,” Uncle Jake said, remembering as he stared into the fire.

“Libby used to sneak into the boys dormitories at night to be with Sirius,” Remus smiled at the memory.

“Ew,” I said, not wanting to know that. Remus laughed.

“They never did anything, of course,” he said, “I don’t think they did anything until we left school. Not that Sirius ever let on, at least.”

“So Mum would just go see Dad in the middle of the night to what? Cuddle?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They were always together,” Remus nodded, “Always. It was nice, actually, and I always envied Sirius for it thinking I would never get to experience true love.”

“I was never able to believe how much they seemed to love one another,” Jake said.

“We think that’s why your Mum got so upset when Sirius was arrested,” Remus said looking at me seriously, “He lied to her for seven years. Even had a kid with her.”

“That’s worse then killing thirteen people,” I said.

“It is,” Jake nodded.

“Did Tonks ever tell you what was wrong?” I asked.

“Tonks?” Remus asked, “Oh, yeah, Tonks. She left without telling us. She said she’ll be back this afternoon to make sure everything is okay. She didn’t want to tell us for some reason.”

There was a pecking at the window and I got up and opened it for the owl. It dropped the paper and flew off. We always paid for our papers at the beginning of the month. I waved the paper at Remus and Uncle Jake.

“Looks like we’ll find out. It’s bound to be in the paper,” I said. I unfolded it, getting ready to have to flip through the whole thing to find the story. Then I stopped, my jaw falling open in shock, and some fear.

First Man to Escape From Azkaban

That was the Head Line. And underneath was a picture of a man that looked like an older version of me. It must have been before he experimented the horrors of Azkaban, for he was still too clean and too normal looking. Not starved or weak like I would have expected.

Then I read the two words I didn’t want to see.

Sirius Black

I dropped the paper and backed away from it, breathing hard. I felt like I had just touched something contaminated with a disease. Jacob, seeing I was freaking out, got up and hurried to me, putting a hand on my forehead and asking me what was wrong. Remus had the sense to pick up the paper. He stared at the page in shock for a moment and then looked at me and back at the picture.

“Jacob,” he called, my uncle turned around and Remus held up the newspaper. Jacob stared at it for a minute too.

“That’s why,” he said.

“Surprised she hasn’t lost it totally,” Remus said nodding and looking at the paper, “Should have know he would do something like this. He always knows how to surprise people.”

“But how. . .?” Jacob asked.

“I. . .I don’t know,” Remus said, but something in his eye told me he had a suspicion or something. I went to Remus, having my breath back, and looked at the picture again.

“I look so much like him,” I whispered.

“You’ve never seen a picture of him before have you?” Jacob asked.

“Mum put them all in the attic,” I admitted, “Sometimes I go and look though.”

Remus folded the paper back up and shook his head, he sat down and stared into the fire. Ben entered the room, fully dressed and looking exhausted. Seeing us all standing there shocked, scared, and lost in memories, with the exception of me who didn’t have memories of Dad, he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Look at this,” Remus said, handing Ben the paper. Ben’s eyes grew wide and he gasped. Shaking his head. He shard a knowing look with Jacob and Remus.

A/N: Another chapter written. Aren't you all just so proud of me? Yeah, well, i needed to do something. There's a half hour until the Winter Formal, which i didn't go to, is over and then I can go to bed thinking how much better going to see Eragon was. . .yeah. My little brother took me to see Eragon since that is one of my favorite books. Isn't that sweet of him?

It was pretty good, but I recommend reading the books first. My brother only was able to follow the movie thanks to me whispering everything that happened in his ear. . .

Anyways, yeah, I was a bit bummed about not going to the dance, which I really would have liked too. . .but hey, I may go get to see the Taste of Chaos tour in Feb. Which is exciting since like, three of my favorite bands are in it!

But you guys are probably more concerned with what's going to happen in chp. four, right? Since I don't have the chapter written yet, I'll tell you what to expect:

-Sirius sees Harry
-Libby is hired to search for Sirius. And accepts.
-Tristan goes to Diagon alley
-I attempt to write Harry canon.

Nervous about the part with Harry. . .I've only written him twice before and don't think i did so hot. So, you guys will be able to judge whether i do okay or not.

So yeah, i believe that's all there is for you to know. I'll be posting a Christmas one-shot called 'I Saw Evans Kissing Santa Clause' this week, or next weekend. If trusted authors can post. I'm pretty sure they are.

Thanks so much to all of you readers
Hugs to you reviewers!
You all make me soo happy!!

Please review!

Chapter 4: Drinking and Dialing
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A/N: Everything is JK Rowlings. Most of this follows with her plot. The lyrics are performed and written(i think) by InMemory.

Chapter Four
Drinking and Dialing

I've been dying just to tell you something
I've been waiting oh for so long
You like to tell me that your fine without me
You'll regret it when I'm gone

I'll Pray to god you can not breathe,
or go a single day without the thought of me.
When you decide to go just know
You can go free.

--InMemory "Drinking and Dialing"

I don’t know how long I slept, but it was the longest I have in a long time.

The sun was hot on my back, confusing me for a moment before I remembered I had broken free of Azkaban and it’s cold walls. I was still in my dog shape and planned to stay that way until I was sure I was going to be okay. I didn’t know how close I was to Azkaban, though I knew I was more then a few miles. Dementors could be anywhere. Muggles won’t see them, so I could rely on them to give me a warning or something.

I was lost of what to do. I was free and now I had to find Peter. Before going to search for him, I wanted to make sure everyone that believes I betrayed them were alright. I wasn’t sure how Libby took seeing me those few weeks back and I was sure that picking up the paper and reading of my escape would cause her pain. My escape was no doubt going to be in the paper. I felt a touch of sadness as I thought of Tristan picking up the paper, too, and seeing my name. He must be ashamed to be my son. . .

There was also Harry. I doubt he knew too much about me besides being a mad murderer. Betraying his parents would probably have been kept from him. It was the way Dumbledore was. I was comforted with that hopeful thought.

But who to go to first? Harry or Libby and Tristan? Usually, I would say Libby and Tristan. But going to them and seeing Libby again, seeing how Tristan had grown up, would probably cause me to never want to leave. I would probably do something reckless like walking into the front door while they’re eating dinner or something. That wouldn’t be too good. Libby would sure draw her wand on me if she isn’t put into a shock.

No, going to Libby and Tristan first would not be a good idea. I would just get a quick glimpse of Harry and then track down my family. I’ll stay around them until Tristan leaves for Hogwarts. I’ll follow him to Hogwarts, sneaking onto the train or something, and then find Peter. Once that’s done, I don’t care what happens. Between that time, I hope to talk to Libby. But it depends on how close I can get to her.

Deciding that I would go to Harry, I racked my memory trying to remember where Harry could possibly be. I recall Hagrid telling me so many years ago that Dumbledore ordered him to go to his aunt and uncles’. The Dursley’s. Muggles, I remembered. Petunia was Lily’s sister. . .

I stretched my legs and yawned, my tongue curling, before starting off towards the closest town I could find.

It wasn’t far.

I had only been walking hurriedly across the woods when I came to someone’s backyard. Lucky for me, there was a man weeding his garden and he chased me away with a shovel. I trotted down the streets, looking for something to help me find the Dursleys’.

It was hours before I collapsed under a tree. I had only gotten the day, which was July 31st. Harry’s birthday. Funny how that turned out. I had also learned by more then one Muggle that I had escaped from an unknown prison and am armed with a gun and shouldn’t be approached. Funny thing about that is I don’t even have a wand, seeing how mine was snapped in two and will never work the same again. It’s a pity, too, I loved that wand.

Sighing, I wondered if I should try and find food in the trash cans, or steal something from on of the neighboring restaurants. I’ve seen a few. I laid there for a moment longer, still being a bit weak from my escape, but I felt alive. My head was cloudy anymore and I was remembering more about Libby and Tristan. Like I now remembered Tristan was born with black hair. And his full name was Tristan Andrew Black. I was so happy to remember it that I didn’t even bother to wonder if Libby had changed his last name to her maiden name, Cullen, as she had done her own.

Being happier at remembering those two little things, I jumped up and started about the town again. I was somewhere in northern England. It was good to know, too, since I didn’t really want to be traveling from country to country. I only had a month before Harry and Tristan went to Kings Cross.

There was a woman in a pay phone flipping through a thick book. I was passing, trying to act like a dog and sniff around, when I stopped and stared at her, ears perked up. The book she was going through was a phone book, I believe. I remembered hearing something about it in Muggle Studies back in Hogwarts. It was supposed to be filled with a whole bunch of numbers. If it had the Dursleys included, that would work. I waited while the woman talked. As soon as she left, I went into the phone booth and grabbed the heavy book in my mouth before taking off down an alley. Making sure I was hidden, I changed back into my human form and flipped through the book.

I was amazed by how many Muggles would put their name in a book anyone could read, but I didn’t find any Dursley. Cursing, I turned back into a dog and kicked the book to the side before starting to walk back off. Then I paused, glancing at the book. The first name on the line was Figg. I went towards it and saw that it was Arabella Figg. She was a Squib, I recall. The Figgs were a good family and my own parents spoke horribly of them because the produced a non-magical child. This had to be the same one. . .

The Figgs were useful to Dumbledore before I was arrested. Arabella was always ready to do what she could and I sort of remember her living near the Dursleys because Lily was afraid that Voldemort would attack her sister to get to her. Arabella was used a some sort of spy for the Muggles.

I memorized the address of her home and hurried out of the alley, pleased to have some sort of lead. The only problem, however, was that Arabella Figg lived some ways away. If I had some means of transportation, such as my flying motorbike, I would easily get there my morning. But because I had to walk, I wouldn’t expect myself to arrive for a week.

With a sigh, I started off.

I was right considering the time it would take to get to Surrey. It was a week when I finally reached Surrey. I traveled by night, hoping that Dementors would be resting during the day. Sometimes, I kept moving till it was midday and then laid down in a hidden place to sleep. Not once did I get caught or “seen” by a Dementor. Though, I did feel them. Panic would consume me at those points, but the Dementors would so pass without so much at a second glance my way.

Relief spread threw me when I made it to Magnolia Crescent. I knew I was close. I was crossing Privet Drive when I stopped. There was a man right outside Number 4. I had seen him before. Staying hidden, I crept closer and saw that it was Vernon Dursley. A man I only meant once in my life and wanted to punch ever since. He had insulted James for being a Wizards. I glowered at him for a long moment and then realized that I had found Harry—if Harry was even here.

I watched as Vernon went into his house and slammed the door. I picked my way through the garden trying to see through the windows, but it was rather hard since the windows were sort of high up. I made my way to the side of the house with an open window. I heard voices, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. With a sigh, I went back to the front of the house and found a hiding spot across the street. I don’t know why I had chosen to watch the house in the front, but it felt like it was the best place to be.

Night fell slowly.

It was around dinner that I felt something was wrong. I sat up and stared at the house. The lights were flickering and there was yelling inside. Things were silent for a minute and then more yelling. The door swung open seconds later and a skinny boy with untidy black hair stepped out. For a moment I thought he was James, but then I realized it was just Harry. Who looked just like him. Except his green eyes. I could see them from where I was hidden and they were just like his mothers.

Slamming the door behind him, Harry started off, dragging his trunk with one hand, his wand in the other. He looked angry and a bit nervous. I could have recognized that look anywhere. I had once wore it when I ran away from my own home back when I was just sixteen. But Harry was only thirteen. To young to be on his own. He started to walk off and I, feeling oddly protective, followed across the street.

Harry kept going until he reached a playground. He stopped under the flickering street light and pulled open his trunk. He shuffled through it, obviously looking for something. He paused and looked around before turning back to his trunk. I edged out of my hiding spot between a fence and garage, suddenly wanting Harry to get a glimpse of me. He stood up straight and spun around, wand out.

The tip of his wand suddenly lighted and he held it high to get a better glimpse of me. Startled, Harry backed up and fell, throwing his wand arm out. With a bang, the Knight Bus appeared and I fled. . .


I felt so stupid and so pathetic when I finally got out of bed two weeks later. How could I be so weak? In front of my own son, too. I was sure the team of Aurors would use this against me. And if they didn’t use this against me, then I would use it against myself, afraid of what will happen when he is caught once more and the Dementors suck out his soul.

And yet, for how weak I felt, I actually felt stronger. Like my sanity, which is on the edge almost all the time these days, suddenly was secure and able. The thought made me climb out of bed and walk to my window, which overlooked the backyard. I saw Tristan and Remus out there. Whatever they were doing, it looked like they were having fun. I smiled, glad that Tristan finally had a father figure. I wonder if Tristan was told about Sirius escaping yet. . .

I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, making it as hot as it could go. I waited for a moment as the steam rolled from behind the shower curtain and fogged up my mirror. Then I stepped into the boiling water, gasping a little from the heat. I adjusted the temperature so it wasn’t as painful. Then I let the water loosen my cramped muscles and relax me.

Once I was showered, I wrapped a towel around me and went back into my room where I quickly changed into a pair of sweat pants, that seemed a bit big on me, and a simple t-shirt. I pulled my wet hair back and then went downstairs barefoot. I suddenly felt relaxed and. . .happy?

No, I decided, not happy but relieved. Yes, relieved that I was going to be okay, that Tristan seemed happy, and that Sirius seemed to be okay, too. Why I was worried about Sirius, I didn’t know, but I knew it had to do with once being married to him. And something else. It was part of that feeling of not being able to remember anything. I knew something was missing, something that would explain in simple details why I was worried about Sirius.

In the kitchen, I made myself tea. I didn’t know where Pinky was and even if I did, I would do it myself anyways. I needed to do something and keep busy. Just as I was I was taking out a piece of toast from the toaster, I heard the back door open and Tristan’s laughter, that was a bit like a bark, but not completely.

“I’m a sucker for dimples,” I admitted, blushing. Sirius grinned now too and I kept my eyes directed at me feet. I knew my face was probably redder then a tomato. This was so embarrassing.

“Really now?” Sirius went on. He crossed his arms across his chest.

“Oh, shut up, Sirius,” I snapped looking at him, “I bet there’s something about me that makes you crazy,”

“My smile makes you crazy, now, does it?” Sirius looked delighted by this piece of information and I was shocked at myself for even telling him that.

“Oh, go away!” I snapped.

I stood still for a moment, the knife I was using to smear jam on my toast frozen in midair. Shaking my head, I realized the memory, the most detailed memory I’ve had in a long time, wasn’t fading like they usually did when they surprised me. I shook my head again and went back to my toast, Sirius’ voice more clearer then I have ever heard before. I sighed.

“Libby?” Remus asked, surprised as he entered the kitchen, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, actually,” I said, my voice sounding surprisingly cheerful and light. Remus raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” I laughed and took a bit of my toast and carrying the plat and my tea over to the table where I saw down. Remus sat down next to me, looking concerned.

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay, you know, Libby. Jacob will be back soon and Tristan will be fine, as well. If you feel weak or whatever, relax,” Remus said, still looking very concerned.

“I’m fine, Remus,” I insisted, “I feel better then I have in years. I belong in St. Mungo’s just as much as you do!”

Remus stared at me for a long time. I just smiled, sipping my tea and eating my toast, which was quite tasty. Finally he nodded and said, “Okay then. If you say you’re okay, I believe you. Jacob will be harder to convince.”

“I know,” I smiled, “So where’s Tristan?”

“Upstairs getting changed. He’s going to Diagon Alley with Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys,” Remus explained.

“So he’ll be gone all day?” I asked.

“Pretty much, I’m sure,” Remus nodded.

“Good. I want to go to the Ministry and tell them I’m okay and learn some information of the escape,” I said, finishing my toast and now just sipping my tea.

“Don’t you think that’s pushing it, Libby?” Remus asked, concerned.

“Probably. But I have to do something,” I explained, “I’ll feel bad if I have nothing to do with recapturing him again.”

“Can’t you just have Kingsley or someone come by?” Remus pleaded.

“I’m going to them,” I said stubbornly.

Remus didn’t argue. I waited till Tristan left for the Weasley’s before I left for the Ministry. Tristan was surprised to see me awake and alive or whatever you want to say. Once Tristan was gone, I got dressed in my Wizarding robes and apperated to the Ministry of Magic. I got in the elevator and waited patiently as it went to my floor.

“Libby?” Tonks gasp when I entered our cubical. Her being my AT (Auror in Training), we shared a cubical until she become a certified Auror.

Our cubical was rather cramped, there being two desks and all. A file cabinet saw in the corner and on the walls were photos of wanted wizards and evidence and such. On my desk was a framed pictures of Tristan, from all ages, and my family from recent events. I didn’t spend much time in the office, most of my jobs were hands on and all. But sometimes, when the days were slow, I would sit in my office writing up reports and other such things.

The boring stuff, Tonks called it.

“Hey, Tonks, how are you?” I asked, sitting down at my desk and wincing when I saw all the papers on top of it. I flipped through the first few and realized it was just back up reports from other cases. I stacked them and went to the filing cabinet.

“I’m fine, but Libby, what are you doing here? I thought you were ill?” Tonks said.

“I was, but I’m okay now. I feel better then ever, actually,” I said, grinning at the pink haired trainee, “Do you know where Kingsley is? I was hoping to talk with him about the escape. I want to sign on to searching for him.”

“Isn’t that dangerous for you?” Tonks asked, looking very concerned.

“Maybe, but I think I’ll be okay,” I shrugged and left the cubical. Tonks followed me as I went to where Kingsley could usually be found. I froze in the “doorway” of his cubical, which was larger then my own but very similar. It had more filing cabinets and more papers on his desk and pictures on the walls. Yet, I noticed many of the pictures were switched out to different once of Sirius. Once from his arrest, our wedding, the Potters’ wedding, from school, and even a few from his childhood. Why those were necessary was beyond me. I shook my head, ignoring the pictures that I had avoided looking at for so long. Kingsley was bent low over his desk writing.

“Hey, Kingsley, how are you?” I greeted. He jumped.

“Libby!” He said, everyone seemed so shocked to see me. I frowned. It wasn’t like I died or anything!

“Yes, me,” I nodded.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Uh,” I said, “Well, I was hoping you would let me sign on to the search for Sirius. I would love to help and I’m sure that I won’t go crazy or anything while searching for him.”

“But what will happen when we do find him, Libby?” Kingsley asked.

“Um, that I’m not sure of,” I shrugged, “Please, Kingsley, I feel like I have to do something to find him. I’ll feel so guilty if I don’t. It’ll be sort of like my revenge for Lily and James and Harry. And myself and Tristan, for that matter.”

“Your sanity isn’t going to run on revenge, Libby, at least not for long. What happens if you do break down?” Kingsley asked.

“Look, Kingsley, I feel better then I have felt in months. Years, even. I know I can do this and you know how determined and into my missions I get. Please?” I begged.

Kingsley hesitated, thinking hard. Then he nodded, “Okay. But I am giving you the option of backing up whenever you feel.”

“Thank you!” I said, relieved and then left the office. I felt all the pictures on the wall of Sirius following me.

“Libby. . .” Tonks warned.

“Would you like to come over for dinner sometime next week,
Tonks?” I asked suddenly, “I sort of missed Tristan’s twelfth birthday being in bed and I think I want to celebrate it again. I mean, what type of mother am I?”

“Dinner?” Tonks repeated, then grinned, “Okay. Sure!”


When I flooed to Ginny’s, the Weasleys were waiting for me in the kitchen. They all greeted me happily. Especially Ron, who went on for five minutes about going to Egypt. The Weasleys were a great family and deserved to go. They treated me like a son and everything.

“So, how are you Tristan?” Hermione Granger asked me, looking concerned. I wondered briefly why Harry wasn’t here, too. Anyways, I knew she wasn’t just asking about by general health, but about my dad and the escape. I hesitated before answering.

“I’m alright,” I nodded, not looking at anyone.

“Well, we better get going!” Mrs. Weasley said looking at the clock–the real one, not the one with the faces of every Weasley on it, currently pointing to home. Except for Bill and Charlie. I noticed that they all had their trunks and bags with them. I looked at Ginny curiously.

“We’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron,” she explained.

“Oh! Why?” I asked, out of curiosity.

“I have no idea,” Ginny said, looking honest enough, “But Harry is there! He ran away from the Dursley’s a few weeks ago and I think Mum and Dad want to keep him company.”

“Oh, why did he run?” I asked.

“Again, I have no idea,” Ginny said, once again honestly. I grinned.

We flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and I waited a while as the Weasleys checked into the Inn and put their bags in their rooms. Then I followed them out onto the busy streets of Diagon alley. Mr. Weasley, Ron and Hermione went to Ollivanders since Ron had broken his wand last year when he and Harry had “borrowed” the Weasley’s flying car to get to school when they missed the train.

Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Fred and George, Percy, Ginny, and me all went to the book shop to get our books. I paid for my quickly and then went to browse the shelves, as Percy was doing. Ginny followed along, not as interested, but reading titles anyways.

“Defense books?” she asked, as I pulled one out.

“Yeah,” I shrugged, “I love defense, you know that!”

“I know, but these are like, N.E.W.T. level defense books, Tristan,” Ginny said, putting the book I had in my hands back on the shelf. She looked at me concerned, “Is it because of your dad?”

I looked away, biting my lip. I hadn’t discussed my dad’s escape since I found out about it. And even then, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room, trying to think clearly. No one pressed me to talk about it. Not Ben, or Remus, and not even Uncle Jake. My great aunt and uncle, Becky and Scott, just hugged me and then went in to see my mum. They weren’t really concerned with me since I seemed okay.

Even on my birthday, my twelfth birthday, my mom was still in a daze. Everyone seemed to have forgotten me. I had gotten a few presents, though, from Ginny and the Weasleys. But that was it. It was a bit disappointing, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be important until Mum was better again. Which she was today.

Still, I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about my dad. Who knew what Ginny or anyone else thought of me? With a heavy sigh, I looked at my best friend, who was still looking very concerned, waiting for an answer.

“No,” I lied, “I just was looking at the book. I wasn’t going to buy it!”

“Tristan, if you need to talk or something, I’m here,” Ginny said. I forced a smile that I knew was forced.

“I know. Thanks,” I shrugged.

We went to a few other stores after that before we were done at lunch. Mr. Weasley found us, saying that Ron and Hermione went off in search for Harry. Ginny then begged for me and her to go walk around, too. The twins had met up with their friend, Lee, and Percy was with his girlfriend—the one Ginny and I accidently saw him kissing—and so there was really nothing else left to do but go off on our own. Unless we wanted to run errands with Mr and Mrs. Weasley. They let us go off on our own.

For a moment, we were lost of what to do. Last year, we hadn’t even know each other and weren’t allowed to go off on our own, being first years. But now, we were practically free to do what we wanted!

“Let’s go to Quality Quidditch Supplies!” I said, excitedly.

“Okay!” Ginny grinned, “You know, Tristan, for someone who’s supposed to be so into school work and all, you sure do like Quidditch.”

“Yes, well, who doesn’t like Quidditch?” Tristan laughed.

We walked into the store and looked around. I spotted the Firebolt and gasped. It was the most magnificent, amazing, wonderful broom I have ever seen in my entire life. I stared at it for a long time, just staring. Ginny stared, too, also in awe of it.

“I would love to have that broom,” I sighed.

“You have the money, don’t you?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, but my mum would kill me if she found out I brought a broom. They don’t even have the price on here! Besides, I have a perfectly good broom at home that I just use for pleasure. I’m not a team or anything. A broom like this one,” I flicked a hand at the Firebolt, “would just be put to waste if I had it.”

“Maybe,” Ginny shrugged.

“Let’s go,” I suggested, sad to leave the broom, “We can go get ice cream or something.”

“Yum!” Ginny smiled. I laughed and we left together.

Halfway down the street, while Ginny and I were talking and I told her about my boring, rather repetitive days of the summer, I saw a group of Slytherins up ahead. They were my enemies, and probably my distant cousin or something. Though my mum was a half blood, my dad was part of one of the oldest Pureblooded families there were. I’m the last now, I’m sure. Anyways, these Slytherins, their names were Lars Kirby and Jason Hannigan. Though, neither family was as old as the Blacks, they were still pretty popular and “noble” family. They usually had a crew of other rude and obnoxious Slytherins, but they seemed to be on their own today.

My heart began to beat loudly in my chest as Ginny and I stopped. Ginny didn’t have as much of a problem with these boys as I did. Mainly, that was because she was usually scribbling away in a diary that was really Tom Riddle, or Voldemort, while I was wandering the corridors alone and had somehow run into these guys a lot. I was lucky most of the time. Percy Weasley or someone would catch them trying to pick a fight and I would get away.

Now, however, I was sure they would start problems. I glanced at Ginny, but she was still talking about Harry and his flying skills to have noticed the Slytherins up ahead. I tried to walk off to the side, but Ginny stopped and gave me a curious look.

“Tristan, what are you doing?” she asked. I froze and nodded my head at the Slytherins only to feel my heart sink. They had spotted me and were smirking, walking over. Ginny frowned, “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Hello, Black” Hannigan spat and then looked at Ginny, “And Weasley. How nice to run into you!”

“How’s your father, Black?” Kirby asked, smirking.

“We’re sure it was a very tearful reunion,” Hannigan said, throwing his head back and crackling. I flushed a bit and ducked my head. A few people looked over before rolling their eyes and continuing their shopping.

“Leave him alone,” Ginny snapped, “He’s nothing like his dad!”

“Ooh, look, Weasley is sticking up for her boyfriend,” Kirby snickered, “Go write in your diary, why don’t you? We don’t have time to talk with blood traitors.” My hand curled into fists and I pushed Ginny behind me, as if protecting her.

“Leave her alone,” I growled, “She’s done nothing to you.”

“Look at that, Jason,” Kirby said, “Black here is sticking up for Weasley.”

“His protectiveness must come from his mother,” Hannigan said seriously, then smirked, “If he took after his father, he probably would have killed all the Weasleys by now. We all know how he was with friendships.”

My face flushed again, but this time in anger. I was breathing hard, glaring at the stupid Slytherins. I think I would have knocked them both out if it weren’t for Ginny pulling my arm to keep me from lunging forward and bruising every inch of their body possible.

“Better not tick Black off anymore,” Kirby said, “He might blow a hole in the street and kill us all!”

They walked off laughing their heads off, though none of their comments were mean. Really, I think the only reason why their pointless comment got to me because my biggest fear was becoming like my dad. When they were out of sight, Ginny let go of me and watched me with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” I muttered.

When we arrived at the ice cream shop, Harry, Ron and Hermione were there. Hermione waved us over. We made a beeline for their table and pulled up some chairs. I gave Harry a weak smile. I had seen picture of his dad, James, and it always surprised me how much alike they looked. Except for the eyes. Harry had his mother’s eyes. It was like me, only I have inherited nothing of my mum. I looked like my dad right down to my dimple in my left cheek.

“How are you, Harry?” I asked, shaking his hand.

“Good,” Harry said grinning, then he frowned, “Are you okay? You look angry.”

“Fine,” I said in a sharp voice.

“Really, Tristan,” Ron said, “You look really ticked off.”

I wished Ginny could learn to just talk in front of Harry, because I really didn’t want to answer. If it were anyone else, she would be blabbing away about how mean those Slytherins were and how stupid I was for even letting them get to me. I bit my lower lip.

“We ran into some Slytherins on the way here,” I finally explained.

“What?” Ron asked, suddenly looking mad, “What did they say?”

“Just some things about my dad,” I shrugged. Harry looked at my curiously.

“Wait, is Sirius Black your. . .” his voice trailed off as he gave me a hesitant look. I sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, he’s my dad,” I said.

“I have some extra money still,” Hermione said, suddenly changing the subject, “My parents said I could buy myself a birthday present. I was hoping to get an owl.”

“Yeah, and I need someone to look at Scabbers,” Ron said, pulling the rat out of his pocket, it looked rather sick, “Egypt didn’t agree with him at all.”

The three stood and bid their good byes before going off to buy an owl. That left me and Ginny again. I looked at her frowning.

“You need to talk to him if he’s ever going to notice how great you are,” I said.

“I can’t!” Ginny said, looking troubled.

“You can,” I insisted, “I bet Harry really does have feelings for you deep down and he’s going to fall in love with you and you two will get married.”

“Oh, shut up, Tristan,” Ginny said, “I’m going to laugh when you develop a crush on someone.”

I just laughed.

A/N: Hmm. . .I felt like there was too much dialogue in this chapter. And it was a teeny bit rushed. At least Sirius' part, but his was boring, too. Nothing interesting happened. . . yeah. . .

Anyways, I didn't like the way Kirby and Hannigan attempted to insult Tristan. I'm not good with fighting scenes, being too nice myself to even try and make someone sound mean. Which is why I'm dreading Tristan meeting Malfoy. . .anyways, i felt like you all had to know how hard of a year Tristan will be having at Hogwarts.

And I wrote Harry! OMG! He said like two lines. haha. Yeah, there will be more of him. haha. Though, i was a bit relieved i didn't put a lot of him in this chapter. haha.

Now, since I again, have nothing of the next chapter written, I will TELL you what you look out for and what is to happen. hehe:

Chapter Five: Currently Untitled.

-Sirius tracks down Libby and Tristan.
-Tonks comes for Tristans late birthday party.
-She and Remus have and awkward moment. Yay!
-Libby sees Harry for the first time in 12 years at King's Cross

Ooh. . .I should do that anymore. It gives the whole chapter away. Oh well. If you guys still read, that's fine. haha. Anyways. . .I want to thank everyone for the support so far. haha. It's the only thing that keeps me eager to keep posting.

Please review since I love you!!

Chapter 5: Room 409
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Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. The Dementor attack comes from Prisoner of Azkaban chp. Five. The lyrics are written and performed by the fabously wonderfully talented Bullet for My Valentine. ^_^

Chapter Five
Room 409

I loved you! (I need you...)
You hurt me! (I loved you...)
I loved you,
You, hurt, me, bad!

Your words, bury me, of what I used to be
I can't erase all those things I've seen
You heart, smothers me, now it's hard to breathe
I can't erase all my memories

--Bullet For My Valentine "Room 409"


With Harry gone, having escaped on the Knight Bus, and Dementors still searching for me, there was nothing for me to do but go off and start my search for Libby. It was easy, really. I was planning on going to her old home. Her and James’ old home. They had grown up as neighbors. I was definitely curious if Libby stayed with her Aunt and Uncle or if she lived alone in our old home. I doubted she kept it for some reason.

The Dursely’s lived rather close to Libby’s aunt and uncle. I had only walked for about six hours during the night when I came up to their house. The lights were off and I knew that the couple, now older then I could ever have imagined at sixteen, were probably sleeping soundly. I went to the back of the house and I sat down. I stared at the window that I had once thrown snowballs at to get Libby’s attention. I had been awake all night then. I was proud over out-waking James.

Her room was darkened and it gave an eerie feeling of emptiness for some reason. I sighed and whined loudly before muffling myself and looking over at the Potter’s old home. I was surprised to find it gave off the same feeling of Libby’s room. Only it was completely empty. I stared at it, remembering how both James’ parents treated and loved me like a son. Now they were gone, along with their real son. All three of them dead at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

I went down to the lake where I sat by the water. I had proposed to Libby by this lake. She had accepted. She had yet to turn eighteen and I had only recently turned so. And yet, I knew I had to ask her. I needed to marry her for both our sakes and sanity. I loved her more then anything and I missed her. I wanted her back. Looking back at the house, I knew she wasn’t there. She no longer lived there. Yet, I went to sleep, planning on trying to learn as much as I could in the morning from her aunt and uncle. They had to speak of Libby often. Libby and Jacob. And if I had to go to Libby’s brother to find Libby, I would.

Dozing off, I dreamed of Libby. I dreamed of her and me being reunited once more and I dreamed of Tristan forgiving me for not being there. When I woke up, the sun was up and I quickly ran to the house, hoping no one had seen me. I went to the window of the kitchen and hoisted myself up, looking through it.

Becky and Scott were awake. They had more lines on their faces and greying hair. They both looked tired. The door opened suddenly and I ran to the side of the house, ducking under some bushes. Two kids, only about five and six, give or take a year, were hurrying down to the lake laughing. A man that looked vaguely familiar and rather strained followed them out quickly followed by a young woman.

“Be careful, Cecilia, Adam!” the woman called after them.

“Relax, Morgan,” the man said laughing, “They can swim and we’re right here.”

“You’re laughing now,” Morgan replied frowning, “But you’re the one diving in when they’re drowning.” the man laughed again and Scott and Becky came out.

“Rose is making breakfast.” Becky said.

“Hmm,” the man sat down on one of the porch tables.

“So, Jacob, how exactly is Libby?” Scott asked. I was surprised to find the man was Jacob. He had only finished his Healer training when I was arrested. Not only that, they were on the subject I wanted them to be.

“She signed up for the mission of finding Sirius,” Jacob sighed. Becky looked up startled and my heart sank with dread, Jacob continued, “She seems well enough. In truth, I feel like she’s acting more like herself before Sirius was arrested then she had since she was released from St. Mungo’s.”

Libby was in St. Mungo’s?! I wanted to run to her and hug her right then, but I forced myself to stay where I was.

“I’ll kill that man myself if I ever see him,” Becky growled, “He destroyed Libby’s whole life and then even left Tristan behind. Poor kid. He works harder then his mother. And why he doesn’t just change his name! He has to know more people would like him if they didn’t know his father was a raving murder!”

“Oh, Aunt Becky, you know very well that Tristan acts three times his age. He made the decision to be Tristan Black at eleven. Libby had given him the option.” Jacob said and shook his head, “He’s a great kid though.”

“He is. Now, why isn’t he and Libby coming to stay?” Jacob’s wife, Morgan, asked. Jacob shrugged.

“Remus Lupin is staying with them, it seems,” he said. My ears perked up, “Which is why I didn’t stay longer. Not only is Remus there, but Ben is visiting so often, too.” my blood boiled. Ben? As in Ben Carlson? Jacob was still talking, “Remus has become a father to Tristan in such a short time. The kid really looks up to him.” I felt relieved. If Libby was talking with Ben again, Tristan did not need to be getting fatherly advice from him. Remus was good though.

“Remus had disappeared for a couple of years too, though,” Becky said, their house elf came out with a try of tea. Becky took a cup and sipped it.

“Of course he did,” Jacob scoffed, “Libby, Sirius, James, and Lily all thought that Remus was backstabbing them. Though, Sirius probably put the idea in their heads himself.”

“If we aren’t supposed to like Sirius, if we’re supposed to hate him, why do we call him by his first name?” Morgan asked after a silence fell. I almost laughed, probably would have if I weren’t a dog, for I was wondering the same exact thing.

“It’s for Tristan’s sake,” Scott answered, “He shares the last name of Black and calling his father by it may disturb him.” I was quite disappointed with the answer, “However,” Scott continued, “I have a horrible feeling that we’re forgetting some huge, important part of the story. Yet, I can’t put my finger on it.”

“You sound like Remus.” Jacob laughed.

“Well, I’m glad somebody besides me feels it,” Scott nodded.

They went back inside when breakfast was ready, calling in the two young children. I waited in the bush for a few moments and then crawled towards the window. The screen door was open, so I could hear all they were saying. The topic of Libby and Tristan was over, however, as the conversation was lighter now and less serious. I waited patiently, just listening. Though, I honestly did not care about Morgan’s new job at the Ministry.

“Mummy, when are we leaving?” asked the small voice of the girl. I thought that was rude. But everyone just laughed.

“After breakfast,” came Morgan’s voice.

“Is Aunt Libby better?” asked the boy.

“I believe so,” Morgan replied.

“Much better,” Jacob added. I sat up straighter. They were going to see Libby. I couldn’t have asked for things to work out better for me. They were going to see Libby and lead me right to her! I laid down again, listening with content now.

“Tristan is going to love my present!” Adam was saying, “He’s not going to like Cecilia’s.”

“Is too!” Cecilia argued. Present? Why would Tristan be getting a present? His birthday was August 12th. It was well passed that. And I doubted that Becky and Scott would have skipped their own nephew’s birthday just to celebrate it later.

“Calm down, you both got him the same present,” Jacob laughed. The kids were silent after that.

It took forever for them all to be ready to leave the house. Between getting dressed and Adam deciding to jump in the lake with all his clothes on, I felt they would never leave so I could know where they were going. But finally, they were in the living room with the Floo powder. Jacob went first holding Adam. He stepped into the fire and yelled out the address. The address of the house I had inherited from my uncle. Libby had kept it!

I was off running in seconds.

I was relieved that Libby hadn’t moved. I got to the house under two hours and then stood at the end of the driveway, staring up at the huge home we lived in. It was much to big for only two or three people, but I could tell it was lived in. None of the rooms had that weird, deserted feeling. I slowly went up the walk and to the back of the house. I froze, for there was Remus, leaning against the railing of the porch and laughing at something Ben Carlson had just said.

I gave a low growl, but no one heard. It angered me that Remus was talking to Ben in a friendly fashion. But I made myself relax. He could have changed. Though, I somewhat doubted that. And then came out another person I had least expected to see. With blond hair, dry from being dyed so much and incoming roots, and those blue eyes that had constantly looked me up and down when I was in school were familiar. Susan Orrin. Or it could have been Samantha. Who knew?

“Ben, honey, where are the kids?” she asked. Honey? Wow. Ben and an Orrin twin. Figures they would end up together.

“You’ve lost the kids?” Ben asked.

“No, Tristan took them somewhere,” the Orrin twin said, I could not figure out which one.

“Did you check Tristan’s room?” Ben asked. She was silent for a moment and then turned back and went into the house. Remus and Ben chuckled softly.

“She can act so out there,” Ben said, though there was a strong fondness in his voice for the twin, “We were talking to Samantha the other day, and she’s a lot worse.”

Susan Carlson. Why does that sound so right?

Four kids came running outside. Two of those kids I recognized as Jacob’s and Morgan’s. The other two, both girls, one with blond hair and brown eyes the other with brown hair blue eyes, I knew were probably Ben’s and Susan’s. They were about ten years old. I doubted they were any older. They didn’t stop as they ran into the yard and then burst into giggles as they sat in the grass calling back to the house.

A young girl with red hair came out then, laughing. I knew her from the newspaper clipping. She was a Weasley. She stopped in front of Ben and Remus, smiling happily.

“Hello Ben, Professor,” she said. Professor? Figures Remus would be a Professor. He had always had a strange liking for school. Worried James and me like crazy.

“Oh, Ginny, you don’t need to call me Professor until we start school,” Remus said, laughing slightly. Ginny nodded, though she seemed awkward not. Another person came from the house. I couldn’t see his face, for he was turned around the opposite way.

“There’s Tristan!” Ben said, grinning.

Tristan. I was staring at my son. A sense of guilt filled my insides. I had let him down as a father. He had grown up with a mother and no father at all. Instead, I got myself locked up in Azkaban. I wanted to run to him and give him a big hug. But I resisted. Something told me that Remus would recognize my dog shape.

“Hey, Ben, Remus,” Tristan said. A chill went down my back. His voice was almost just like mine when I was twelve years old. Slightly deep, but yet still high. He went down the porch, his black hair falling into his face, still concealing it from me. I inched forward with anticipation. Tristan jerked his head, sending his hair out of his face and I finally caught it.

It was just like mine. So much like mine before I went to Azkaban, that I recoiled from the shock of it. And then Tristan smile, looking over his shoulder at where Ginny was still talking with Remus and Ben. He had a dimple in his left cheek. And my smile. Everything was just like me.

“Libby, everything okay?” Remus asked. I snapped my head back to the porch. There was Libby. Her brown curls and greenish-brown eyes were the same, though she still looked a bit stressed. She looked better, however, then when I saw her at Azkaban. She had some drinks in her hand and handed one to Remus and the other to Ben who thanked her while opening them. Ginny ran off to join the kids playing tag in the yard.

“Fine,” Libby said sincerely, “Pinky has everything ready. Of course my aunt and uncle are checking everything. They’ll all be out here soon. And Tonks arrived.”

“Tonks?” Ben repeated.

“Oh, you haven’t met her yet, have you?” Libby said, her voice was so soft.

“No,” Ben shook his head. Libby grinned and went back in the house returning shortly with a girl with blue hair and a heart shaped face.

“This here is Nymphadora Tonks,” Libby said, “Tonks, this is Ben.”

Nymphadora? As in my cousin? Andromeda had married Ted Tonks. Yes! Libby knew my cousin. I wondered if she knew and how they met. Nymphadora was quite a bit younger then Libby.

“Tonks is my Auror trainee,” Libby went on as Tonks and Ben shook hands. “And Tonks you remember Remus, right?”

“Oh,” Tonks turned a delicate shade of pink as she shook Remus’ again, “Wotcher, Remus?”

“Hello Nymphadora,” Remus said. She winced.

“Please, call me Tonks. My mother was on gillyweed when she named me,” Tonks said and I almost laughed. Remus smiled.


Tristan was acting like a kid for once. He had his cousins, and Ben’s kids entranced in a game of tag. Mainly because that was the only thing they wanted to play, but he seemed to be having fun. Us older, more boring people, all sat on the porch watching them. We had opened gifts, had dinner and cake, and now there was nothing to do but sit around.

My aunt and uncle would not stop talking about how much better I looked. Everyone was so distant about talking about Sirius though. Every time they would say ‘serious’ even, they would get all tense and look at me all nervously and such. Honestly, they didn’t seem to believe I was okay. Except, Remus seemed to know I was fine. I figured it was because how I am determined to catch Sirius and have already done loads of research. Most of it, I already knew.

Tristan on the other hand, seemed to disappear at frequent moments. Remus found him more then once going through Sirius’ old school trunk I had stored in the attic. I sort of felt bad. I knew that Tristan was going to have a lot of trouble in school this year. His father is on the loose and could have easily found Tristan, threatening or manipulating him into helping do whatever it is Sirius has escaped to do.

And yet, I trusted that even if Sirius did come and find Tristan and me, he wouldn’t hurt us.

“So, Libby,” Aunt Becky said, “How’s work?”

“Fine,” I replied, “I’m being stationed in Hogsmeade soon to make sure the Dementors will stay under control. We’re stationing the Dementors around the school entrancing incase Sirius tries to get through.” Everyone shifted as I said Sirius’ name, but I ignored it.

“Dementors at Hogwarts?” Remus repeated, looking more concerned with that, “Why?”

“The Dementors told us that Sirius was muttering in his sleep before he escaped. He was saying ‘he’s at Hogwarts’ over and over again. We doubt that he fears Dumbledore enough to stay away and the protection spells won’t be enough. So, we have given the Dementors a deal. We have to question Sirius first and then he is free for a kiss.” I explained, trying hard not to shiver from the thought.

“Why question him?” Morgan asked, rolling her eyes, “Everyone knows what he has done and he’s already served twelve years for it.”

“He never had a trial,” Remus said.

“So?” I asked, “Morgan’s right. We shouldn’t bother questioning him, but by then he may possibly discovered Voldemort, if he is still alive.”

We were silent for a minute and then my uncle looked at me.

“You talk of it so easily.” he said. I shrugged.

“I want to catch him,” I said, “For what he did James and Lily. To Harry.”

“Mom!” Tristan suddenly yelled. He was standing near the porch by some bushes. Twigs snapped and the bush shook causing me, Remus, Ben, and Remus all to jump up and run to the bush. Tristan was staring at it curiously and moved forward, Ben pulled him back.

“What was it?” he asked.

“A dog,” Tristan said, “Huge and bear-like. It was just standing there watching. When I came forward he just sort of stared. And then ran when I called for you.”

“And you went near it?” I gasped, “Tristan, it could have hurt you!”

“I was curious,” Tristan said innocently. I just stared at him then back at the still bush. Then I looked up at Remus and he had a dark, fearful look on his face. Though, he too looked curious.

“Let’s go inside,” Ben suggested.

We all did. Soon, Ben and Susan left with their kids and then Jacob and Morgan. Aunt Becky and Uncle Scott stayed a while longer and then they too left. Tonks said good-bye, tripping over her own feet as she said good-bye to Remus. I had to laugh, she was clumsier around Remus then she usually was. I smiled at her as she disapperated.

Tristan was sitting on the floor of the living room reading one of the books that Ben and Susan had given him. He glanced up when I walked in and sat on the edge of the couch. I gave him a look. He sighed and marked his place in his book, setting it beside him and looking guilty at me.

“How big was the dog exactly?” I asked.

“Huge,” Tristan replied. I nodded and then Tristan said, “I think Remus knows something about it. He went sort of quiet and stuff when I first told you about it.”

“We’ll leave Remus alone. He’s too gentle and nice to put any of us in danger.” I said, smiling.

“So you’re not mad that I approached an abnormalcy large dog that I don’t know?” Tristan asked.

“Disappointed you would be stupid enough too,” I said and Tristan ducked his head, “But no, not mad.”


I dragged my trunk onto a trolley and pushed it after Remus and my mum. She seemed stressed for some reason. One of the reasons I refused to tell her or Remus that the large, black dog I had seen at my birthday party had followed us here and was now slowly slipping through people, conscience to be sneaky. It was an extremely smart dog. I mean, it was an animal.

I went through the barrier after my mom and was quickly followed by Remus. I lost sight of the dog then, feeling very curious about it. My curiosity was quickly stifled when I saw Ginny with her family. Ginny, her family, Hermione, and Harry. Lupin said good-bye to my mum and went ahead on the train. He looked very ill today. More ill then he usually did. He hadn’t ben home last night either. I wondered where he had went and grew suspicious. I wanted to check the full moon for this month of September and then October, too, before I confronted him about it.

I led my mum towards the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley saw me, immediately giving me a bone crushing hug. Then she smiled at my mum who had yet to see Harry. That was weird, since she always said she wanted to meet him. I hugged Ginny and then said hi to everyone else.

“Everything is okay at home?” Mr. Weasley was asking my mum.

“Very well, thank you,” Mum said, smiling and then her eyes landed on Harry. Her smile faltered slightly and he shifted uncomfortably. Mum looked around and then back at Harry saying, “You look just like James.”

Harry looked surprised, “You knew my dad?” he asked. Mum smiled and nodded.

“And your mum. You have her eyes. We were all very close friends. James and I were neighbors, actually,” Mum said and she reached around to shake Harry’s hand, “I’m Libby Cullen.”

“I know,” Harry said looking absolutely thrilled to have met someone that knew his parents. The train whistled.

“We better get on,” Tristan said, “Bye Mum!” I embraced my mum quickly and she kissed me quickly. Then Ginny said good-bye to her parents and we hurried on to the train. As I passed Harry, I heard Mr. Weasley request a private word with him real fast.

Ginny and I got on the train, passed Remus’ compartment where he was already sleeping, and found our own. It consisted of a Slytherin who whom I had History of Magic and Potions with. I had always thought her as pretty with her crystal blue eyes and midnight black hair, but she was also sort of creepy. She constantly stared at me, but not in a ‘I think your cute’ way. More of an ‘I know something about you that you don’t’ type way and it made me uneasy. She was not popular in her house and rather hated. She was just a pureblood, but have off the air of a powerful pureblood. Sometimes, I felt I gave off that air because of my name. She was intimidating and along, just as I would be if it weren’t for Ginny. Her name was Lyra Smith.

“Ginny,” I whispered as Ginny went to open the door.

“Oh, Tristan, it’s just Lyra,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“Exactly. . .” I said weakly, but it was too late. Ginny entered the compartment smiling.

“Can we sit here, Lyra?” she asked. Lyra glanced at me and then looked back at Ginny and nodded. She smiled slightly then looked back out the window. I noticed she had a book in her hands. It was one I had read just a few months ago and it was highly fascinating. But I said nothing about it.

Ginny and I talked quietly when the train began to move. Lyra opened her book and began to read. Ginny and I exchanged looks. Lyra, unlike me, had never made any attempt of being friendly with people. Yes, she was polite when she needed to be, but she was never exactly buddy-buddy with anyone. She preferred to be alone, but seemed at ease when around people. I was curious about her, yes, but I never cared to get to know her because of the aforementioned looks she gives me.

The thing was that Lyra proudly stated herself a half-blood when she arrived at school. She made sure everyone knew. Even the older kids. Her mother was a muggle and her father a pureblood. He, however, died only weeks after she was born. She gave me the date for some reason. October 24th. I only remembered it because it was exactly eight days before my own father was arrested. Lyra had told me that, too. I was surprised she knew about my dad when she had been raised as a muggle her whole life. She was a mysterious person, yes, and I knew she knew more then she told anyone. Especially me.

As Ginny and I talked a laughed, Lyra continued to read. Once or twice she paused and looked up to listen to us before looking back down at her books. Those few times, Ginny and I would automatically welcome her into the conversation. That was another thing about Lyra. If she so much as listening to you, she was part of the conversation and remembered every word and every movement you said and made.

The train stopped just as we were about to arrive to Hogwarts. The lights flickered and Ginny and I looked at each other curiously before looking outside. It was dark and impossible to see through the rain. Lyra went back to reading, lighting her wand for the light.

“Let’s find Ron and Harry and Hermione. They always know what’s going on,” Ginny suggested and we left. Lyra didn’t seem to notice. It was dark in the corridor and finally we just slipped into a compartment. Ginny screamed as did another girl.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Who’s that?” Ginny countered.



“What are you doing?”

“We were looking for Ron—”

“Come in and sit down—”

“Not hear!” Harry snapped, “I’m here!”

“Ouch!” came Neville’s voice.

“Sorry,” I muttered.


The compartment lit up and a handful of flames were sitting in Remus’ hand. I was relieved to see him. He glanced at all of us squeezed in and his lips twitched, though he looked alert.

“Stay where you are,” he said. I wish he didn’t say that because I was sitting half on Neville Longbottom and half on the seat while Ginny was on top of me, pressed against Ron. Harry and Hermione were with Hermione’s cat on the opposite side. They had plenty of room that I would be pleased to take up.

Remus headed towards the door, but it slowly slid open before he reached it. I recognized the Dementor right away and felt fear invade me. I felt my worst memories reawaken as if I were reliving them. My mom having a breakdown, Aunt Becky getting sick, everyone hating me, my name, Ginny being taken down into the Chamber of Secrets. Everything came fast and I felt dizzy. The Dementor sucked at the air and I glanced at Harry. His were worst then mine.

And then Harry started twitching, falling out of his seat and onto the ground. Remus immediately drew his wand, pointing it at the Dementor and shouting, “None of us are hiding Sirius Black under out cloaks. Go! Expecto Patronum!” a silver vapor erupted from his wand and the Dementor fled. Harry stopped twitching but didn’t awaken. Remus slammed the door shut and we all stared at him wide eyed as he turned back to us. He looked shaken, too.

We all waited until the lights flickered on and the train continued moving. The Remus knelt by Harry and shifted him so he wasn’t in such an uncomfortable position.

“Is he okay?” Ginny asked worried. Remus didn’t answer. Then he glanced up at me, I was shaking slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded and moved over so I wasn’t sitting on top of everyone.

Harry then stirred.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, “Harry! Are you all right?”

She slapped his face a few times. He looked around confused. He saw Ron and Hermione kneeling beside him and looking worried. All of us were looking concerned. Hermione handed Harry his glasses and he put them back on.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded, asking what ‘that thing’ was and where it had gone. And then he asked who had screamed. As we convinced him that no one had screamed, Remus broke a slab of chocolate. He handed the biggest piece to Harry.

“Here. Eat it. It’ll help,” he ordered and then handed the rest of us chocolate giving me a worried glance. I took the chocolate.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. Remus stared at me for a few more moments and then stood,

“What was that thing?” Harry asked.

“A dementor,” I answered just before Remus opened his mouth, “One of the dementors of Azkaban.” Everyone was looking at me in surprise. I was nothing but a second year and I knew that. Not even Hermione seemed to have known.

“Eat,” Remus said nodding towards the chocolate, “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me. . .”

He left the room and immediately everyone was anxious. Telling Harry what happened and getting him to reassure them that they were okay. When conversation turned to the dementors and their effects. I said nothing and let Ginny huddle up to me. She was looking as scared as Harry. He seemed embarrassed that no one else fell out of their seats.

When Remus came back he looked at the chocolate still in Harry’s hand and smiled, “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know.”

“Honeydukes’ best,” I piped up and Remus nodded, smiling at me again.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” he announced, “Are you all right, Harry?”

He muttered a fine and that was it. The Remus looked at me again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Shaky but fine,” I nodded.

A/N: Why look! Another chapter. ^_^ This was a bit more exciting I think. Haha. Yeah. . . I was planning on getting this out NEXT week, but I figured, what the heck. That would be waiting too long I think. haha.

So, what to look forward to in chapter six: currently untitled.

-Sirius meets Crookshanks
-Libby remembers. . .more
-Tristan starts to hate Hogwarts! GASP!

And I have no idea when i will get the chapter. Honestly, what do I need school for? What's the point? Grr. I wish I didn't have to go back. *cries* It's depressing. But I know more then half of you already went back on Thrusday*winces* and the other half is going back with me tomorrow. Well, not with me exactly. But you get the point. ^_^

I'm hoping to update quickly even with school. My lack of friends(that you all are probably tired of hearing of) gives me plenty of time to plan and write exciting(are they?) stories for you all to read and enjoy.

And now, because I have nothing more to say I am going to thank you all for the support and ask you to keep reviewing. They make me happy , indeed.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Can any of you guess who Lrya is???? hahaha.
it's not his future girlfriend/lover

Until the next update!

Chapter 6: Murder, I Wrote
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Disclaimer: Everything is JKRs. Lyrics by Halifax.

Chapter Six
Murder, I Wrote

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting
Listen to me cause I'm not faking
This time it's real and I can't take it
Hold me gently cause I might fall apart
There were no bullets so stop searching
The cause is you and all your making
Stop pretending that you're innocent

Cause now I remember that...

I saw you with the murder weapon
You see me as an enemy
Choke on your tongue as you pray that this is all just a dream
And fall before me

--Halifax "Muder, I Wrote"


I had followed Tristan, Libby, and Remus to the train station. From there, I waited until everything pretty much cleared before I slipped through the barrier myself. I don’t know how I managed, but I snuck past almost everyone without being seen or noticed. I then jumped onto the train.

I found a good place to hide in an extra baggage car. I slipped underneath some trunks and boxes and settled down for the train ride. It felt odd to be going to Hogwarts again. But I knew it was necessary. I had already spotted Peter with the Weasleys. I remember them. Of course, they didn’t have their youngest or only daughter when I had known them, but I did know them. They were good people. Much to go for Peter to be hanging around with.

My blood boiled with anger at the thought. Me, the innocent one, losing the love of my life and getting locked up in Azkaban while everyone that knew about the prophecy somehow doesn’t anymore. While Peter, the traitor, gets to roam free under the care of loving people getting fat and lazy! Well, Peter was always fat and lazy but that does not matter right now.

The beginning of the train ride was nice, I had fallen into a much needed sleep and was able to fully relax. Out on the streets I had to keep an eye out for three things; the dementors, loving dog people that would want to take a cute, adorable stray like me in, and dog-hating people that want to send me to the pound. On the train, I was able to lay back and just relax.

However, I soon grew hungry. Hungrier then I already was. There was no food in the car I had taken refuge in. I thought about sneaking to where the kids are and stealing from the Snack Trolley, but then I felt guilty and began to search the area around me for something–-anything.

I found nothing but ink and parchment. This upset me and I returned to my spot with a scowl. My stomach grumbled, though it was used to this lack of food thing. I was thinking of Libby and Tristan, distracting myself from hunger, when the train began to slow. My head snapped up, sensing something was not right.

It was too early to have arrived at the school. Well, not really early, but we still should have a few more minutes on the train. And icy coldness filled the air around me. I shivered at the familiar feeling. I backed deeper into my spot, my heart pounding. I tried to picture Libby and Tristan. But all I did was remember Libby’s tears when she saw me in Azkaban. And how horrible it must have been for Tristan to grow up without a father figure.

The dementors did not enter my part of the train thankfully. I heard a few screams, but mostly everything was silent. Dead silent. I barely heard my own breath and it took a moment before I realized that it was because I was holding it. I let it out, only to suck it back in and shut my eyes, willing the dementors to just leave already.

They searched for ten minutes before the air got warmer again. Then, slowly, the train began moving again, rocking everything back and forth. The Dementors had searched the train. . .which means they probably are searching Hogwarts too. But would Dumbledore honestly allow Dementors on the grounds? Unless Dumbledore was no longer Headmaster. No. He should be. It’s only been twelve years.

The train slowed again no more then fifteen minutes later. I waited for a long time as kids got off the train. I could hear their laughter and chatter from where I hid. Once things began to get quieter, I slipped out, jumping from the train just as it started moving again. I could see the last of the carriages pull away and I slipped silently into the shadows heading into the opposite direction to Hogsmeade. I already knew where I was going to stay.

The ground was wet and the rain was heavy, but I trudged through the mud relieved to have gotten to Hogwarts safely. I could see dementors floating around, heading towards the school. Scowling as much as a dog can, I headed up a hill where the Shrieking Shack was located on.

No one should go up there but tourists. And I knew the only two possible ways in. One, by the Whomping Willow on the Hogwarts grounds, and the other through a loose piece of wood in the back of the house behind numerous bushes. I went straight there only to find the board had been fix and was shut tightly. I whined loudly and then looked around. It was cold, but the only way to get back into the Shrieking Shack now was to go up to the school and into the tunnel.

The walk was far, but I did not pause. I hurried, hoping and praying the dementors would not sense me, even if it’s harder to sense animals. I slipped past them onto the ground.

I eyed th castle wearily. It still looked the same. Amazingly the same. I almost went up to the doors and went in, but resisted the urge. I would be going in soon. Just not tonight. I don’t think I would be able to handle it if I did. I ran towards the Whomping Willow and hesitated. Then, as fast as I could, I ran right into the entrance to the tunnel. I heard the branches snap as I just bare avoided the tree’s attack. I heard the trunk and branches groan as it straightened.

Then looked down at the ground, panting. In the dim light, and thanks to my dog vision, I could see a very vague outline of a hoof in the ground. It was barely visible and I thought it was my imagination for a minute. But whether it was or not, I cannot say. I had to look away.

I hurried down the tunnel. It was a long tunnel and was a few minutes before I arrived at the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. I pushed it open with my head, which hurt, and climbed out.

It looked the same, but different. The furniture was still broken in pieces on the floors, marks on the wall where Remus, in his werewolf form, had scratched was still there, bloodstains were still visible on the walls and floor from when Remus had bitten or hurt himself, or accidentally hurt James or me. The place was covered in dust, however. As I walked around, small clouds of it erupted around my feet. I headed up the stairs and found where the bed was. I jumped on it, coughing as dust filled my lungs, and laid down.

This was my home until I could get Peter.


The office was strangely quiet. Rarely was everything so silenced in the Auror’s quarters. Especially lately with Sirius being on the loose. However, today, as I sat at my desk writing a report and Tonks sat behind me at her smaller desk studying notes on other cases, I realized everything was quiet.

As soon as the train left with Tristan, I headed right to work. There was a lot to be done and now that Tristan was at school, I had nothing better to do but focus all my attention on catching Sirius. The team was set up, and I was Kingsley’s right hand assistant. I was surprised by this, but agreed immediately. It was better this way. Tonks, of course, would be helping too since she is my trainee.

I laid down my quill and spun my swivel chair around to face Tonks. Her hair was platinum blond today and went down to her mid-back. Her eyes were an electric blue. She felt my gaze on her and looked up.

“Is it quiet in here?” I asked. Tonks frowned and listened.

“It is very quiet now that you mention it,” Tonks nodded, “Wonder why that is.”

“Was there a call we missed?” I wondered aloud. This instantly struck me as stupid because if there was a call, it would be impossible to miss. Aurors running to get to the scene or to their desks to receive orders was chaotic.

“Doubt it,” Tonks shrugged.

I poked my head outside the cubicle only to see that other Aurors were at their desks working on reports, reading them, or doing some other work. A few looked up and smiled at me. I nodded my head back and then sat back down. Rarely did we have a quiet hour. And when we did, we found it odd. I sighed, sitting back in my desk. Desk work was boring. The worst part of being an Auror.

I picked up my quill again and began to write once more. The report was also boring, I realized. There were no signs of Sirius and no clues leading to where he had been! The report was pointless. Once again, I put my quill down and turned to face Tonks again. She hadn’t gone back to her work, but was spinning slowly in her swivel chair with a bored expression on her face.

Without looking at me she asked, “How old is Remus?”

“Remus?” I repeated, thrown off guard, “He’s thirty-three. Why?”

“Just wondering. . .” Tonks said, then I heard her muttered, “Only fourteen years older. . .” I eyed her suspiciously then laughed.

“Do you like Remus?” I asked, feeling like a sixteen year old again.

“What?” Tonks gasped, “Oh, no. Not in that way of course!”

“Tonks. . .” I said, smirking.

“Okay, he’s attractive, but that’s all I think,” she said in hushed tones then, turning slightly pink. I laughed again.

“What’s funny?” a deep voice said and I turned to see Kingsley, smiling.

“Tonks here,” I said simply, “Can we help you?”

“You can,” Kingsley grinned, “Unfortunately one of the Aurors that were stationed in Hogsmeade, to watch the dementors and to just be there, has gotten ill. He will probably be out of work for the next few months and we need another Auror down there. Do you think you and Tonks can take on another assignment?”

I looked at Tonks and she gave a curt nod.

“We’ll be happy to,” I said, standing. There was papers and contracts to sign now. I inwardly groaned. More paper work. . .

“Good. I have the paper work in my office. I’ll give you the rest of today and tomorrow to pack. There’s already a room checked out for you both at the Three Broomsticks. They only hold the room for three days, though, so you’ll want to get there soon.” Kingsley said in his formal work voice. I nodded and then followed him to his office where I got the paper work for both me and Tonks.

Once I had gotten the paper work filled out and turned into Kingsley, we packed up out reports and stacked everything neatly. I said goodbye to Tonks and then Apperated away.

My house was quieter then the office, but that was normal. Even with Tristan home the house was quiet. It was much too big for two people. Even for three. But I had never been able to sell it once Dumbledore suggested I don’t.

I greeted my house elf, who presented me with a cup of tea. I thanked Pinky and started up the stairs. It was best to pack now then later. My suitcase, however, was not in my room. I searched and then remember that Tristan wanted it. Why? I don’t know. I headed towards his room and pushed the door open, switching on the light. I stood in the door way for a minute, thinking.

Tristan was always neat. His bed was made perfectly and his floor was clear. The books on his book shelf were in perfect order and looked brand new. His closet was open just a few inches. There were pictures on his wall of Quidditch teams and a calender by his desk which was straightened up in a way that I never could get. I entered and smiled. I then opened his closet and found that he did not put my suitcase in there. So I checked under his bed.

I had to pull an old shoe box out from underneath before I could pull out my suitcase. And just as I did so, my elbow knocked the box onto it’s side, the contents spilling out. Cursing silently under my breath, I picked it up and reached for the stuff. Then I stopped.

The first thing that I picked up was something I bought for Sirius for Christmas. A silver necklace in the shape of a dog bone, his name inscribed on it. The chain was worn and I remember him constantly reminding me he would be needing a new on soon. He had been thrilled to receive it. I remembered.

Then there were photos. I flipped through them. Sirius and me at Quidditch practice. Darcy Smith, one of the beaters, had taken it before our first game. Sirius and I were not dating then, but we were friends. And as we laughed with one another in the picture, I had to smile. The next picture was my birthday, I was dancing with him, thrilled to not looking like a fool as he twirled me. He had thrown that party for me. The next was of us with Lily, James, and Remus. Lily was sitting by James, holding hands and smiling at him. Remus was sitting against an oak tree reading while Sirius watched me do my homework. I didn’t remember when or how the picture was taken.

So many pictures, half of which I couldn’t remember, but each one showing the strong bond that had stood between Sirius and me. My cheeks were wet and I hadn’t even noticed I had been crying. I put the pictures in the box along with the necklace and all the other small trinkets that Sirius had loved. Then I realized I had forgotten a photo and reached for it, gasping when I saw it.

It was the last picture I could remember being taken. It was of Sirius and Tristan, Lily, James, and Harry in the background playing. Tristan was bundled up to protect him from the fall air and Sirius looked handsome in his jeans and jacket. He was sitting on an old swing that had hung from the tree outside in our yard. It had just recently fallen down. He was smiling down at Tristan, looking incredibly happy and at peace as he teased Tristan with the tip of his finger. Tristan was smiling and giggling. I could still hear his little baby laugh. . .I could still remember that day.

“Libby, you bully, let me hold Tristan!” Sirius whined. I looked up at him, confused, and laughed.

“Did you just call me a bully?” I asked.

“No,” Sirius said, “Now give me Tristan. You’re always holding him.”

“Every time you hold him he ends up crying. And then you give him to me,” I said, but handed the small two month old to Sirius. He looked incredibly thrilled as he supported Tristan’s head and pulled him close to his chest in a protective manner.

“Oh wow!” Lily said coming out of the house. James followed, holding Harry up and playing ‘Broomstick’, also known as airplane. Harry giggle and shrieked with laughed.

“What?” Sirius asked, bouncing Tristan up and down slightly.

“Libby actually put Tristan down!” Lily laughed. I slapped her arm lightly and glared at her. Lily laughed again and then hurried after James, telling him not to hold Harry like that. I smiled as I watched James hold Harry properly and set him down, pouting as Lily scolded him.

I turned back to Sirius when I heard Tristan’s familiar cry. For a moment, Sirius looked lost and then glanced up at me to see me smirking. Then a determined look came into his eye and he turned his back to me, gently rocking Tristan and whispering softly to him. I watched as he went down the porch steps, sitting down on the old swing and rocking himself, still whispering to Tristan who was slowly beginning to stop crying. It was then that I turned into the house to grab the camera.

I took the picture quickly, knowing that Sirius loved getting his picture taken and would end up doing some ridiculous pose when I wanted the pose he was in right now. Hearing the click and seeing the flash, he looked up surprised. I lowered the camera and set it on the table.

“I couldn’t resist,” I said, moving towards him, “It was too cute.”

“Aw, I know I am,” Sirius said and I laughed. He stood up and turned to face James who was now chasing Harry, telling the one year old to put down the frog and come to daddy. Lily watched helplessly.

“We’re never teaching Tristan to walk,” I said shaking my head.

“Aw, that’s not fair. You said he can’t fly until he can walk!” Sirius whined. I looked up and laughed, standing on my tip-toes to kiss Sirius. He leaned down and met my lips with his for me and I smiled against his lips. Tristan’s giggle echoing in my ears.

Tears filled my eyes again as I remember that was only a week before James and Lily died. A week before Sirius betrayed them and me. He had been so convincing. And I had loved him so much. I almost ripped the picture in two, but something stopped me as I prepared to.

Obviously, the things in the box meant something to Tristan. Enough to take them out of the attic and hide them. I set them back in the box and put the lid over, wondering why Tristan hadn’t taken them to Hogwarts with him, but then figuring that it would not look good if someone had found them.

I sighed, standing and pulling my suitcase with me.


I’ve been back at Hogwarts for a week and I already want to go home. I want to be at home where other kids can’t come. Where Slytherins can’t make fun of me and people can’t be rude. For me, Hogwarts had always been tough. But it was never nothing that I wanted to get away from.

From the feast to the last five minutes before I go to bed, I get these looks. They are filled with suspicion, hates, and fear. Even the seventh years, who were old enough to remember small parts of Voldemort’s reign, were scared of me. Slytherins mocked me in the halls and a few even come forward asking me how my father was doing. People hated me. I think even teachers hated me. And why? Because my father did something that I could not even remember? Because he decided to betray my mum when I was no more then two months old?

In the common rooms at night, I would feel the eyes of my house mates on me. Eating breakfast, the Slytherins watched me. During class, the teachers watched me. Muggleborns, Half-Bloods, and a few Purebloods knew my dad had killed thirteen people with one curse. Only me and a few Slytherins knew he betrayed his friends. But even then, I wanted to scream more then half the time. To run away and get away from the eyes of the school.

Ginny understood, I think. She knew it was hard for me, but did not talk about it. People had talked about her towards the end of last year. How she had been possessed by Voldemort and opened the Chamber of Secrets. . .but really, she didn’t really know what I was feeling. She hadn’t been hates or feared, just pitied and looked upon as some silly little girl. Those looks will go away soon. They will go away. . .my looks won’t. Not for a long time.

Yet, out of all the people that stared and whispered, one had the decency to come up to me more then once. Lyra Smith had always been like that.

It was Saturday afternoon. Ginny and I had decided to go outside and do our homework. I honestly did not want to do homework on a Saturday afternoon, but I didn’t have much of a choice. So, Ginny and I sat under a tree by the lake with out books around us. The only sound between us was the scratching of our quills.

“Harry smiled at me this morning,” Ginny said suddenly. I didn’t look up.

“That’s good. Do you think he’s interested?” I asked.

“No,” Ginny sounded sad. I could not make her feel better either. She needed to girl to talk to this stuff about. I had no interest.

Silence came between us again. This time it was broken only by my quill scratching against the parchment. Ginny hadn’t started writing again. I looked up, curious to what was wrong. She was watching me.

“Are you okay?” she asked. I shrugged.


“Are you sure?”

“No,” I admitted, “I hate how people judge me just by who my father is. Not who I am or what I am like. My dad was a murdering psycho, so now I am too. I was able to sneak into Azkaban at eleven years old and free my dad! Honestly. . .”

“I’m sorry, Tristan,” Ginny said, sounding sad again, “It’ll pass.”

“Will it?” I asked, sounding harsh. Ginny said nothing as she ducked her head. I sighed, “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound so bitter.”

“I know,” Ginny replied.

I looked up at the school just to see Lyra walking towards us. Her black hair was loose around her face and her blue eyes sparkling. She was smiling slightly as she stopped infront of Ginny and me. We stared at her. Curious. Usually we barely talked. I knew she probably had something important to say if she was coming right up. Or important to her. Usually, her statements were not interesting to anyone else.

“Hello!” she said brightly, sitting down and crossing her legs.

“Hi,” Ginny and I mumbled shyly.

“How are you all today?” she asked.

“Okay. . .”

“Good, good,” Lyra grinned. We just sat there, curiously staring at one another. Lyra eyed me for a moment and then looked at Ginny. Then she smiled again.

“Do you want something?” I asked as politely as I could.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to come and join you!” she said brightly, “You know, Tristan, since we are potion partners, we should really get to know one another. I heard Snape has a project for us soon.”

“That’s for the seventh years,” Ginny said. Lyra looked at her and didn’t flush.

“I know!” she smiled, “Anyways, Tristan, yeah, I think we should be friends.”

“Why?” I asked, then hearing how rude it sounded added, “I mean, why do you want to be my friend. Not only am I Gryffindor, but I’m, well, me!”

“And I am me!” Lyra grinned, “Just because half the school thinks you’re a twisted, evil little boy doesn’t mean everyone does!” I started at her for a minute.

“Little?” I finally asked.

“But we’re Gryffindors,” Ginny said.

“So? Not all Slytherins are bad, you know. And you guys seem nice. A lot nicer then the people in my house, anyways. That Draco Malfoy totally hexed me yesterday,” Lyra grumbled for a moment and then looked at us again, “So what do you say? Can we be friends?”

“Uh. . .” I said, “Sure. Why not?”

“Of course!” Ginny smiled. Lyra grinned too.

“We should befriend Luna Lovegood too. She’s teased and made fun of a lot, too. And it’s sad because she just has a lot of superstitions,” Lyra explained. I stared at Lyra for a moment

“Loony?” I repeated. Lyra’s eyes flashed as she snapped her head towards me. I almost recoiled, but refrained from doing so.

“How do you feel, Tristan, when people talk about you behind your back?” she snapped. I hesitated.

“Not good,” I finally said.

“How would you feel if they said horrible things about you behind your back?” she then asked, her voice deadly calm.

“Worse,” I hung my head.

“Then do not call other people names. Luna is actually very bright. I’ve spoken to her a few times,” Lyra spoke as if that settled the matter.

We were silent and Ginny and me exchanged look. Lyra was odd and mysterious. She told you all her secrets and everything that was on her mind, but behind all those secrets was a huge one that you could never figure out unless she wanted you too. And then she did something like sticking up for people she barely knows or scolding someone she barely knows. She decided things suddenly and does them, even if they are ridiculous.

In fact, I bet anything that Lyra suddenly had the urge to come and befriend Ginny and me and went looking for us. It was the way Lyra was.


That night, I woke up to my stomach grumbling loudly. I had skipped dinner, not wanting to listen to whispers, and now I was regretting it. For a long time, I tried to ignore my hunger and listened to the snores of my fellow second years. But I could not doze off again. So I decided to go down to the kitchens for something to eat.

I was one of the few that knew where the kitchens were. Ginny and I had followed the Weasley twins to them last year. It was one of the first things we had done together as friends. I could still remember the nervous excitement I felt when we snuck after the twins after hours. To know Filch could catch us at any moment was nerve racking and exciting. It was so thrilling.

I slipped on my shoes and left the dormitory. The fire in the common room was dying and the light was dim. I exited the portrait and started down the corridor. Though I hated doing it, I didn’t mind breaking rules anymore. I could usually talk my way out of trouble, but that was really because I was rarely caught and seen as the good kid. Huh. I was an evil good kid. Go figure.

The corridors were deserted and silent. I slowly made my way to the kitchens. And then, as I passed a window, I saw something in the corner of my eye. I paused and stepped towards the window, peeking out. I gasped.

Walking along the edge of the Forbidden Forest was the dog. The dog I saw at my birthday and the dog that had followed us to King’s Cross. It was a stray and I wondered why it was following us. For a moment, I hesitated, and then headed to the kitchen, thoughts of the dog soon leaving my mind.

A/N: So sorry this chapter took so long. Really. Forgive me? Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long. ^_^

Hmm. . . there isn't much for me to say. I thought this chapter was a bit boring, but it gets more exciting as things progress. You know, Sirius has a couple of break ins and Tristan does something very stupid later on. . .huh. Yeah. Hopefully that got you all curious. haha. ^_^

Things to look forward to in chp Seven:

-Sirius and Crookshanks
-Libby talks with Dumbledore.
-Tristanhas trouble sleeping. . .huh. I wasn't really specific with that. *starts fixing my notes*

Welll. . . hopefully you all like the chapter. ^_^
Please review.
love you all!

Chapter 7: Under Serious Attack
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Disclaimer: Everything is JKRs. This chapter contains information from Prisoner of Azkaban. Lyrics by Emery.

Chapter Seven
Under Serious Attack

This is war
Can I take it anymore? (can I take it anymore?)
I'm falling faster and bleeding more
Than i have bled before
Certain death (this blade will carve a purpose)
Lingers on the other hand (and make you feel defeated)
But i will fight you
And victory will be mine in the end

-- Emery "Under Serious Attack"


Tristan has habits. He had a routine that I easily picked up on as September faded into October and October began to fade into November. He wasn’t your typical twelve year old, I noticed. He was more mature and independent. I don’t think he trusted many people and he was a bit on his own. Without little Ginny Weasley, I don’t think he would have friends.

In the past months, I watched him befriend a girl that looked vaguely familiar. Like I had seen her somewhere else. I noticed she was a Slytherin, however, and grew angry that Tristan would even dare look at one. But she seemed different. He also befriended another girl. I recognized her big eyes and blonde tresses as a Lovegood. She seemed a bit odd, practically floating around the grounds, but then again, I was being judgmental.

In the mornings, Tristan awoke before dawn and dressed himself. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, Tristan would exit onto the grounds with his broomstick over his shoulder and he’s fly around until seven thirty when it was time to go in for breakfast. I would watch him, sitting as still as possible looking up. And I would continue to watch.

I was doing that now, laying on my back uncomfortably, watching the speck in the sky that was my son. He was a good flyer, I could tell you that much. He moved with ease and quickness. I wondered if he played Quidditch, I knew he wasn’t on the school team, but still, you didn’t have to play for your school to play Quidditch. I then began to wonder what position he played. Beater? Had he inherited my old Beater skills? Or did he take about his mum and prefer chaser? Or did he do something completely different?

Suddenly Tristan began to descend. It was much to early and I quickly got on all four paws and slipped into the shadows, watching curiously. I watched as Tristan landed sloppily and much too hard. He stumbled and went down, rolling twice and then laying on his back. I wanted to run to him and check that he was alright. But I stayed away in my shadows.

Slowly, Tristan sat up. He didn’t look dazed and he didn’t look surprised by his fall. He just sat there. Then he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He rested his forehead on his knees and was then very still.

It was then, for the first time, that I noticed that Tristan was having a hard time. He’s friends with people that no one else wants to be friend, his mother is unstable with memories she lost and can’t get back, and he’s the son of me, Sirius Black. Peers fear him, they think he’s like how they think of me. I sat down and watched Tristan.

For over and hour he stayed in that position. Then he got up and picked up his broom. He looked around the pitch, almost confused, and then turned and headed back towards the castle, a slight limp in his walk.

I was tempted to go after Tristan. I wanted to stand beside, put a hand on his shoulder, and promise him that things will get better. And I almost did. I almost got up and hurried after my son to do just that. I wanted to go and comfort him. But just as I was about to, I felt something brush my side. Something warm and soft. Startled, I shied away and stared at whatever had dared touch me.

A cat.

I crouched and growled at it, hoping the stupid thing would go away and leave me alone. The cat just sat there, staring at me with its ugly flat face. An uncanny intelligence radiated off of the cat and I stared at it curiously before I got my senses back and growled again. The cat continued to sit there and I had the sudden feeling that the cat knew I wasn’t a real dog. I back away, feeling slightly creeped out. The cat purred and walked towards me.

I barked, the sound echoing off the trees stands in the Pitch. The cat meowed and a sudden name just popped into my head. It was the strangest thing, but I knew it was the name of the cat.


I took a step towards this strange cat and it let me nudge it with my nose. It smelt like people. I wiggle my nose, humans don’t have the nicest scent in the world. I stayed at the pitch with the cat for over an hour in half. Then students began to pour from the castle and we took off into the Forbidden Forest. It was then that I realized I had a friend. Yes, it was a cat, but an intelligent one that probably had nothing better to do then follow a big mangy mutt around a dark forest.

After spending hours with the cat, I realized that it was Halloween. I watched Hagrid carry pumpkins from his patch into the castle and had a sudden idea. I followed them up, Crookshanks ran ahead, distracting Fang from me and ran off in the opposite direction. I continued up the grounds behind Hagrid and just before the door to the castle shut, I slipped in and hurried into the shadows of the Great Hall.

I was inside the castle.

Honestly, I had no idea exactly what I was doing. My only thought was that the Gryffindor common room would be empty. And if Ron Weasley was a good boy and luck was on my side, Peter would be sleeping his life away in the 3rd year boy dormitories. I prayed that he was.

Though I could not go now. Children were up in the Common Room and I guessed that Tristan was one of them. I would have to wait for the Feast to begin before I can sneak up there. The whole school will be distracted and I’ll be in and out within moments. It was a good plan, I hoped. I just prayed the Fat Lady would let me in. Surely she wouldn’t hold the door shut for a serial killer....

Night fell slowly and the Feast began when all the students returned from Hogsmeade. I had realized that Harry had not gone to Hogsmeade and figured it was because of those horrible Muggles he’s been living with. I sighed as the whole school filed inside. Then I went to the kitchens and had the House elves, who cared less who I was, bring me a knife. Then, I turned and hurried up the stairs. I went down the corridors and up staircase after staircase. But the time I got where I wanted to go, I was exhausted. I approached the Portrait.

The Fat Lady wasn’t paying attention as I approached and I grew nervous. I took my human appearance and approached slowly. The Fat Lady looked and scream and for a moment, I felt shamed, but then, knowing that Pettigrew was on the other side, I decided that I didn’t care.


I walked around the living room with a letter in my hand. It was from Dumbledore, asking me to meet him in his office that afternoon. I wasn’t working today. Kingsley told me to talk Halloween off. He told me to go to a nice party or something, enjoy myself. I tried to tell him I wanted to work, but he sent me off. I honestly, had no choice. So I came home to find an owl waiting for me.

What Dumbledore wanted to meet about, I was unsure about. So I Flooed to his office at the appropriate time and was greeted enthusiastically by the old wizard. I smiled at him as I dusted soot off my clean robes.

“How are you, sir?” I asked, taking a seat in an arm chair as Dumbledore poured some tea.

“I’m wonderful,” he said, “But I didn’t ask you hear to talk about me. No, I wanted to talk about you. You and Tristan both.”

“Is there something wrong with Tristan?” I asked, instantly worried as my motherly instincts kicked immediately. Dumbledore looked up at me with twinkling eyes. I relaxed, seeing Dumbledore was.

“He’s making friends. I’ve seen him walking the corridors with Lyra Smith and Luna Lovegood. And of course, Ginny Weasley is always there, too. But Tristan still doesn’t seem. . .happy,” Dumbledore explained, “And personally, I am beginning to worry. As a child, Tristan should be loving life and enjoying himself.”

“He doesn’t seem to want to stay a kid,” I said, nodding, “I’ve noticed he’s been lacking happiness in his life, too. And I think that it my fault. I’ve been so caught up in myself and my memory and my work that I honestly haven’t been a very good mother to the poor kid.”

“No, you’re a wonderful mother!” Dumbledore said.

“I know I’m not,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“Tristan loves you and everything about you. He’s just going through a hard time right now, too. Many of the students seem to think Tristan is taking after his father, though he’s so quiet, its hard to believe,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head, “But the rumors will pass and Tristan will one day find that he has to act his age again.”

I nodded and then frowned, “Who’s Lyra Smith?”

“A friend of Tristan’s,” Dumbledore said automatically.

“Who are her parents?” I asked, frowning, the name sounded familiar.

“That’s not my place to say,” Dumbledore said and he smiled a little, “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard Lyra. . .before,” I said, thinking back. I bit my lip, knowing the name from somewhere. But where? Then my eyes grew wide, “Are there any other. . .”

“Any other what, Libby?” Dumbledore still had a twinkle in his eye as he watched me piece things together.

“No. That’s silly. Forget I said anything,” I said, laughing slightly, “I’m thinking crazy. What house is she in?”

“Slytherin, I believe, though many believe she’s been misplaced,” Dumbledore chuckled slightly, “She’s different.”

“It seems so,” I nodded.

The rest of the afternoon was spend with light conversation. We talked about everything and anything that did not include Sirius. Tristan came up a lot. And the more I heard about my twelve year old son, the more I worried that he was more stressed and miserable that I had allowed myself to believe.

I wanted to see him, but Dumbledore suggested that I don’t and I agreed. I wouldn’t want Tristan to think something was wrong with me. And I didn’t want to walk down the corridors and remember things that I didn’t want to. Tristan would be okay, he knew how to take care of himself.

When Dumbledore announced that he had to go, for students would be coming back from Hogsmeade and heading to the feast, I nodded and stood, thanking him for the company and the chat. Dumbledore left with a twinkle in his eye and I stepped into the fireplace and Flooed back to my quiet home.

However, it wasn’t empty. Tonks sat in my kitchen reading the newspaper and pursing her lips with distaste. She glanced up when I walked in and I smiled at her, confused as to why she was here. I couldn’t remember if I had invited her or not, but I was more then certain that I hadn’t. It wasn’t like Tonks to make unexpected House calls.

“Wotcher!” she said, jumping up, “Sorry for just showing up, but I got off from work and thought, it’s Halloween! I didn’t want to spend the only holiday where we can walk around town in our robes and twirling our wands alone!”

“Oh, Tonks,” I laughed, “I’m just giving out candy to Muggle trick-or-treaters.”

“The candy was for the Muggles?” Tonks said seriously, looking a tad bit guilty. I just laughed.


“I’ve never been so full in my life!” Ginny said, giggling, “But that candy was so good! I want more!”

“I think you’ve had enough,” I said, laughing slightly at Ginny. She was high on sugar and I had chosen to believe that she had eaten so much sugar, that her stomach was numb from it, willing her to eat some more.

“You barely had any, Tristan! Why?” she asked, looking at my oddly.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I shrugged.

“But its candy!” Ginny said, “We’re kids, we’re supposed to jump at the chance to eat never ending bowls of candy!”

It was then that we feel in step with Ron, Hermione, and Harry. They smiled at us as Ginny lectured me on being a kid. They weren’t paying much attention to us, however as they approached the Gryffindor common room, they stopped. More then half the house was jammed infront of the door and the rest were behind them. Frowning, Ginny stood on her tiptoes, trying to see. She used Tristan’s shoulder as a prop for balance and even jumped up a little.

“I can’t see anything,” she said. I stood on my tip toes, too, and saw nothing.

“I can’t either.”

Ahead of us, Ron asked why no one was going in. Then Percy Weasley came by, pushing everyone and shouting, as usual, that he was Head Boy. Then silence fell. Percy’s voice was different as he shouted, “Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick.”

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked.

“Oh, my–-” Hermione said in front of them.

Ginny and Tristan looked over and gasped. The Fat Lady was not in her portrait. The canvas had been slashed violently, damaging the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Dad! Sirius Black! was the first thing that crossed my mind and I recoiled in my spot, staring at the damage helplessly. Why?

Dumbledore was there suddenly, shouting out orders to be done to find the Fat Lady. I caught the Headmaster’s eye and looked away ashamed. I wanted to run and even began to walk off, but someone grabbed hold of me. I turned and looked to see it was Harry, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Peeves, who was telling what had happened.

Or at least I thought he was. I wasn’t exactly paying attention. I was trying to get out of Harry’s grip and Ron, seeing Harry struggling to keep me back, soon grabbed me, too. I wanted to get out of there. I knew what was coming, though I couldn’t hear anything but a ringing. And then, everyone was looking at me and I knew what had just been said. I hung my head and stopped struggling.

Harry and Ron hung on to me as we all went down to the Great Hall as ordered. The other houses were arriving, as well, confused and already in their pajamas. Gryffindors were explaining what happened with excitement and fear as everyone grabbed a sleeping bag. I was with Ginny as I took one, only for it to disappear right from my hands.

“Forget to give your dear old Daddy the password, Black?” Draco Malfoy spat at me. I looked up at him and said nothing before I hung my head. The Slytherin laughed and turned away, walking with his friends.

I took another sleeping bag and Ginny and me found a corner. I got into my sleeping bag without a word and rolled over, facing the wall. I heard someone approach and set up next to Ginny. Then I heard them talking.

“I don’t think he’s okay,” Ginny said.

“He may just be in shock,” Lyra shrugged.

“No, I think he’s ashamed and angry.”

“He shouldn’t be ashamed of his father. He is who he is and Tristan has to live with that. Why, my father didn’t do many great things in his life, either, but I am not ashamed of him and his choices. Angry, yes, but not ashamed,” Lyra spoke louder then Ginny, as if she knew I was listening and wanted me to hear.

“What did your father do?” Ginny asked, sounding curious.

“Something horrible. But then he tried to make it right, but only made it worse,” Lyra explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered.

“My father has done nothing to make his mistakes right,” I said rolling over to looked at Lyra, “Nothing.”

“You don’t know that,” Lyra said, “Just like I don’t know why my own father made the choices he did.”

I sat up, angry, and snapped, “This isn’t about your father. No one cares about your father. No one even knows who he is. I don’t even think you do. You weren’t born when he died, according to your story. I bet you don’t even know his name!”

“I do to know his name,” Lyra said calmly, “And if I told you, I don’t think you would believe me. Now, since you’re being so rude, I think I’ll go to sleep. Good night.”

She then rolled over and shut her eyes. I glared at her before I laid back down and rolled over too. Ginny sighed, before doing the same. It was silent and you heard faint whispered of what happened. Many were just asking how he had gotten in, something I wondered, too. I sighed, not knowing where this year was going. It just kept getting worse. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and then opened them, surprised.

A single tear had escaped my eye and rolled down the side of my nose.

A/N: This story is still on Haitus, guys, but I had some inspiration so i thought, why not treat you awesome people to another chapter? Especially since I'm in a good mood right now and I'll be gone all next week. (cheer camp! whoo!)

I hoped you all enjoyed it.

Chapter 8: Something that Produces Results
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a/n: it's all jo's. plot is twisted to fit mine. lyrics by The Early November.

Chapter 8
Something the Produces Results

Clever is a general word
while always showing that she's hurt,
but never wrong but never wrong
it takes a lot to make the end
it takes a lot of smart thinking
but never wrong, but never wrong.

--The Early November "Something that Produces Results"


I am the worst father in the history of horrible fathers. I may even be worse then my own! And all for my thirst of revenge. How could I do that to my son? Why couldn’t I get it through my head that he is having a hard time in school because of me! His own father! I should go right back to my cell in Azkaban and suffer, I really should. I completely ruined Tristan’s life.

It was hard to stop thinking so negatively. It was hard to lay there on my back in the Shrieking Shack in my dog form as I waited a few days before heading back to Hogwarts.

I hadn’t meant to lose my temper. I hadn’t meant to completely ruin the Fat Lady’s portrait. I just got so . . . angry. Blood thirsty I guess you can say. I was just moment away from Peter. He was so close to the end. But no. Instead I had to forget that I hadn’t had any passwords and that the Fat Lady would never let me in, even if I did sweet talk her. She seemed much too terrified to listen to me tell her how she doesn’t look a day over 30.

I watched the castle from a crack in the boards of the shrieking shack. It was hard, of course. There were trees and other objects in the way. But I watched as the lights in the great castle all went out. The Great Hall was lit up for sometime and then it dulled and went out. I sighed as I settled on the old, dusty bed. It was dark. Much darker then it usually was.

Eventually, I managed to fall asleep.

Eventually, three days passed.

Eventually, I decided I needed a new plan to kill Peter. And this time I would be completely ready.

For the first time since I walked the halls of Hogwarts, I was heading back through the tunnel and darting out, away from the branches of the tree. I watched it sway back and forth for a long time. Then I ran to the pitch where Tristan was still flying. His hair was getting longer now. Almost as long as mine was when I was younger. It made him look older.

He was more then just troubled I saw. But he didn’t do another crash landing, thankfully. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to stay up in the air again. I rolled onto my back and watched him. The position was uncomfortable, but it was better then look up. That hurt my neck.

He was doing more difficult moves today. Practice figure eights, loops, rolls, flips, etc. I knew it was because some moves took a great amount of concentration. And all that concentrating took his mind off what I had done. Was he getting blamed for it? Were people saying I was getting into the castle with his help? I was so involved with my thoughts and watching Tristan, that I was startled when I heard footsteps.

I sat up, my ears perked.

It was that girl. Her black hair was glistening in the sun and her eyes sparkling. She walked into the middle of the pitch, her face turned upward. I cocked my head to the side, desperately trying to figure out where I had seen her or who she reminds me of. It’s those eyes . . . has to be those eyes. And the hair too; so shiny, so glossy. Sort of like how mine always was.

A whine escaped my throat and I stifled it as Tristan began to descend.

I wondered if this strange girl was a Lestrange. As far as I know, Bellatrix never did have any children with Rodolphus. Narcissa and Lucius were both too fair. I have seen their son walking around. Draco, I think they were calling him. I tried to think of all my cousins. Many had my black hair. Maybe my parents even had another child before they died. I doubted it.

Unless. . .

My brother didn’t strike me as a family man. Never really was one to show his feelings. I always saw him as self centered and such. He left for the Death Eaters, I remember. That night was the first time I really realized how horrible things were between us . . . but Regulus died just weeks before my arrest. He couldn’t have been in love or had a child. Maybe it was a fling? No. Regulus wouldn’t.

I inched closer to the girl and Tristan, hiding behind the stands. I could here them now.

“—early in the morning?” Tristan was saying.

“A girl in my dormitory was snoring,” the girl said, her voice was a little mysterious, “It woke me, so I decided to go for a walk and I saw you! You’re a great flyer. You know, my Mum played Quidditch.”

“Really?” Tristan’s surprise was evident, “I thought she was a Muggle?”

“No, she wasn’t. Just pretending,” she said, “Mainly to protect me. And even Dad a little bit.”

“Oh,” Tristan said, and then, “Lyra . . .”

Lyra! A constellation. Would Regulus keep such a tradition? No. Regulus wouldn’t be with a Muggle, no matter how desperate. But if she was pretending. . .

“Yes, Tristan?” Lyra asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and my ears perked up. What did Tristan do to this Slytherin?

“Sorry?” Lyra asked.

“Yeah. For what I said the other day. About no one caring about your dad and how you probably don’t even know his name and all,” Tristan replied, hanging his head, “I was just upset, you know? I mean ---”

“Don’t worry about it, Tristan,” Lyra smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Your own father had just broken into Hogwarts and everyone was pointing the finger at you. I was hurt at the time, but I’m ok now. I understand. People would be pointing the finger at me too if they knew who my dad was.”

I loved how everyone I eavesdropped on was always on the topic I wanted them to be. I inched closer, so glad for my enhanced hearing. Tristan was watching Lyra curiously now. She was looking around the grounds not really paying much attention to him anymore.

“Who is your father, Lyra?” Tristan finally asked. Lyra looked at him. A breeze pushed her hair off her shoulders and she pursed her lips.

“My mum says not to tell anyone,” she said.

“Why?” Tristan asked.

“Because she doesn’t want me to end up like you. What happened to my family is similar to what happened to yours,” Lyra admitted, “Only my mother never went to St. Mungo’s. And my father was killed, not arrested.”

“I know,” Tristan nodded, “Days before my own father was arrested.”

“Yes,” Lyra nodded, “I thought you would realize the date. That’s why I told you. I want you to know, really.”

“Will you tell me your story?” Tristan asked. Lyra looked up.

Me. I was bouncing around. She was definitely Regulus’ daughter. There was no way she couldn’t be. Everything was matching up. I wanted to bark aloud. Regulus wasn’t alone. He found love. He found someone to hold onto. He had a family. And both our families were taken from us, around the same time too. I felt angry now. Regulus had to know that Peter was betraying us all. Unless Peter was ranked much higher then Regulus. I was warned . . .

“My parents went to school together. My mother She was a Gryffindor. Her name is Darcy Smith. She played Beater with your dad. Sometimes, mum will tell me stories about their practices. She found him attractive, but wouldn’t make a move since him and your mother were so close. Neither my parents paid much attention to each other. They were enemies. My dad disappeared in his fifth year to join the Death Eaters,” Lyra paused and Tristan looked up, shocked.

I wasn’t bouncing around anymore. I was listening intently.

“Death Eater?” Tristan asked, he took a step backwards, his hand searching for his wand. Good boy, stay on your guard.

“Yes,” Lyra nodded, she sat down in the grass and Tristan sat across from her, “Mother told me that my father didn’t want to be a Death Eater. Not that young, at least. He did it to save his life when he was thrown at the Dark Lord’s feet. He didn’t have much a choice, I agree, and I would have done the same. My dad left Hogwarts and began training.”

“How did he meet your mum? Was she a Muggleborn or something?” Tristan wondered and I was dying to know the same thing.

“Yeah, my mum was,” Lyra nodded, “She ran into my dad on accident when she was walking back to her flat in London about a month after she graduated. He was throwing up blood and looked pretty beat up, is what she told me. My mum recognized him and brought him home with her. Her best friend was a healer, you know? And she always helped him out with the essay portions of his training. So she knew what to do and made him better. He wanted to leave right away, you know, said he had business but Mum made him stay and eat. She took care of him for a good week before he went off to do whatever it was he did. I don’t think she knew he was a Death Eater yet.

“And then my dad started coming back whenever he needed a place to stay. When he needed a shoulder to lean on and needed to be healed. After about six months of this, Mum says she found herself falling in love with him. And then she found his Mark.” Lyra stopped again, thinking.

“Did she freak?” Tristan asked and I was panting with excitement. I’ve been dying to know this kind of information. I always wondered what became of my brother.

“No,” Lyra replied, “My mum says she wasn’t surprised, really. My father wanted to leave again when she saw, but my mum knew he wouldn’t come back. She didn’t really care, I guess, more concerned with his well being. So my father told her his story and she told him she loved him. My dad, apparently, felt the same and he came back to my mother every night and during the day, too. They married secretly, nothing too big.”

“That’s nice,” Tristan smiled a little, “Your father wasn’t really bad, was he? Just scared for his life?”

“Yes,” Lyra nodded, “That’s what Mum says.”

“Is there more?” Tristan wondered.

“A lot more,” Lyra replied.

I wanted to growl at them to keep going with the story. Then I felt guilty. Growl at my own son and newly discovered niece? What sort of man was I?

“Mum says,” Lyra began, “That being married to a Death Eater that wanted out was very dangerous. Sometimes, my father would spend a few weeks away from her if someone got suspicious. She began to pretend to be a Muggle to give her a sort of innocence. None of the Death Eaters ever found out, Mum says, but the constant fear of that happening was always there. It was dark times, she said.

“I came along a year after they were married. Mum says dad didn’t want a child. It was too dark a world, too unstable a life. But Mum didn’t care. She wanted me and after a while, Dad wanted me too. Life for him got harder then, Mum says. He wouldn’t leave for longer then a night and that got him into a lot of trouble with the Dark Lord. And then he came home one night and started talking about a way to bring him down, to get rid of him for good.

“Mum was curious, but Dad couldn’t explain. Not until he told my mum that he was going to sacrifice himself,” Lyra stopped again, tears in her eyes, looking up at Tristan.

I sat there, unable to understand. Regulus, my brother, the boy that claimed himself a Slytherin because he was selfish, gave up his own life so that maybe, one day, he could help save the world? When Libby and I got news of his death, we knew he did something like that, but I didn’t understand now.

For the first time since I was sent to Azkaban, my heart didn’t just ache for Libby and Lily and James. But it ached for my brother too. The brother I never really got to know . . .


Hogsmeade was never very busy around this time of year. Between October and November, it was actually quiet save for a Hogsmeade weekend or two. Tonks and I spent a lot of time walking through the streets that were near empty thanks to the dementors, but we never bought anything or saw any signs that Sirius was around us. Most of our time was spent writing up pointless reports on how the area is clear.

Of course, we spent time on the grounds of Hogwarts too.

Twice, Hagrid led us through the Forbidden Forest, though we never did go far.

All this was routine and ridiculous. Sirius was smarter then to hide near the castle. Or even at Hogsmeade. He would be the last place you would look, and yet the most obvious if you think about it. But no one could find him. He was smart like that. I always knew he was pretty smart. How else would he be able to trick us all so easily?

Today, after the horror of Sirius sneaking into Hogwarts, I was doing some serious thinking in the room Tonks and I were renting. Tonks was back at Hogwarts doing some questioning of students. Mainly the older ones that were at the scene. And I was left in the room to write my report of the events up.

There wasn’t much to say.

Besides the shredded portrait, there wasn’t any evidence. No one had even seen the man! And I, personally, found it odd. Why would Sirius Black, who is assumed to be going to Hogwarts for Harry or Tristan, maybe both, go to the Gryffindor common when it was clear no one was in there? Everyone was, obviously, at the feast. Why oh why would there be a reason to break in?

I asked Tonks these questions. She had no answer, and went off to the school to try and find them. I knew there would be anything left behind.

There was a knock on my door and I hurried to the door, opening it up to reveal Remus Lupin. I smiled warmly at him as I opened the door wider for him.

“How are you, Remus?” I asked, going to make tea, waving my wand around.

“I’m good, Libby. Snape is blaming me for letting Sirius in though. He won’t admit it, but I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t trust me,” Remus sighed, sitting back on the sofa and sighing. He looked sick, though better then the last time I saw him.

“That’s to be expected, Remus,” I replied, “You were a close friend.”

“I know,” Remus nodded and then looked at me as I sat down, waiting for the tea, “I came to talk about Tristan.”

“Everyone seems to want to talk about Tristan,” I nodded, thinking about my conversation with Dumbledore, “He’s unhappy, right?”

“Yes,” Remus nodded, “A lot of the students seem to think it was Tristan that left Sirius into the castle. Tristan has been doing very good at ignoring this, but I really think he’s about to snap. I’m concerned about him, Libby. He’s a good kid and he already has so few friends. All girls, too, no older guys to look up to.”

“I know, Dumbledore has talked to me,” I nodded.

“Yes, but Dumbledore doesn’t see him in classes like I do. Dumbledore doesn’t have to watch him get pushed around have to protect him from getting too hurt without making it seem like I’m trying to protect him. The kid is having a horrible year, Libby. He’s absolutely miserable no matter how much he makes himself smile,” Remus sighed, closing his eyes, “I’m absolutely worried about him.”

“I know,” I nodded, “Remus, I have noticed Tristan is miserable. He was miserable over the summer too. And it’s my fault.”

“No, no, Libby. It’s not your fault. It’s his father’s,” Remus moved over to me and rubbed my back comfortingly. I started to cry.

“I don’t understand any of it, Remus,” I gasped, “How did he escape? Why can’t the dementors sense him? And Remus, why go in when no one is in the Dormitories?”

“I don’t know, Libby,” Remus whispered.

“How can you not know?” I asked, looking up at my old friend with red eyes, “You were his best friend for how many years? You remember things, don’t you? Oh, why can’t I remember?”

“Libby, calm down,” Remus muttered.

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I stood and went to get the tea. I returned and sat down, handing him his cup and he sipped it. Then he looked up at me and watched me closely. I had calmed myself. I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. Whenever I cried, Sirius would hold me, I remember. I always felt safe wrapped in his arms. Always.

We sat in silence for a long time and my thoughts drifted to Tristan. I was worried about him. So few friends and so unhappy. I knew little Ginny wouldn’t leave him. But I wondered about these other two girls. Luna Lovegood and Lyra Smith. I had remembered why Lyra was familiar. It was a constellation. And Smith reminded me of a friend, Darcy Smith. I decided I would have to look her up sometime. She disappeared from the Wizarding World, it seemed.

“Does something seem to be missing?” I asked Remus. He was startled by my question and looked at me confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“In Sirius’s arrest?” I repeated, “No trial. Only Peter’s finger found. James and Lily, his best friends, sold out to Voldemort?”

“I can’t think of anything,” Remus said, though he was frowning at me.

“I don’t understand. I feel like I’m missing this huge chunk. You know, Sirius was never gone from what I remember. If he wasn’t at work, he was with me,” I went on, remembering clearly the months before Sirius’s arrest, “He was with me and Tristan,” I whispered, thoughtfully.

“Libby, you’re memory is reliable,” Remus said. But he, too, seemed completely thoughtful. He hadn’t known, though, in the last month. We all shut him out of our lives. I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry we thought it was you.”

“No need to apologize,” he said and stood, “I have to get going. I just wanted to tell you about my concerns for Tristan.”

“Thanks, Remus,” I smiled. Remus returned my smile and then left. I cleared our cups away and set them in the sick before going back to my report.


“He sacrificed himself?” I repeated.

I never thought Lyra would ever open up to me. I never thought she would tell me how she cam along or about this father of hers. But it was all coming out now. And I was shocked by all of it. My own mother knew Lyra’s parents. I’m sure my mum didn’t know Lyra though. She would have mentioned it when I brought her up at the end of the summer.

At first, I was scared to know Lyra’s secrets. The thought of Death Eaters that didn’t want to be there and falling in love with Muggleborns seemed off to me. But as Lyra’s story went on, I found it was really a beautiful love story. I wish I knew more details, really. Almost like Romeo and Juliet, only Juliet didn’t die. More of a Tristan and Isolde. I looked up at Lyra, who was crying. She loved her father, I realized, whether she knew him or not.

“Yes,” she said, “He risked his life and died for the world.”

“Not just you guys?” I gasped.

“No,” Lyra said. She took a deep breath and I waited.

“You don’t have to go on,” I said, biting my tongue. I really wanted her to.

“I was only about five months old when Dad announced what he was doing. My mother didn’t want him to go. The idea of being a single mother scared her, really. That’s what she told me, at least, but she says it’s also because she loved him so. My dad was her whole world, Death Eater or not. And she didn’t want to lose him. She couldn’t lose him. But my dad was determined to do this. He told her how it can make the world a better place for me and for you and your father and mother,” Lyra looked at me again, pausing.

“Us?” I gasped again.

“Yes. He hadn’t seen your father in years, not since he left school. Of course, he never saw your mother either. But he knew about you. Mum thinks he loved all three of you, though he would never admit it. He only admitted he loved mum and me. But she says there was something in the way he spoke about your family. Specifically your father,” she gave me a small smile and continued, “Mum doesn’t exactly know what happened. All I know is that it has to do with a locket. He was found in an alley, dead.”

“How?” I asked, my voice was a whisper.

“Healers thought it was an Unforgiveable at first, you know. There was no physical damage. But when they took his blood, it was poisoned. And his lungs had collapsed. Drowned, I guess, drank a potion or something. No one knows for sure what happened and no one really asks. No one really knew where he had been or what he did. There wasn’t a locket on him. Mum sometimes says he got rid of it. Other times, she says she doesn’t know if he even got to it.”

Lyra was quiet then. She wiped her eyes and sniffled, looking at the sky. She smiled a little at me and I knew she was finished.

“That’s it?” I asked, my voice breathless.

“Yes. My mum continued to pretend to be a Muggle and gave me her last name for safety, even when the Dark Lord was destroyed. She doesn’t think he’s dead just yet. She won’t until she sees a body. I won’t either. And as soon as I’m old enough, I’m going to start looking for the reason why my father died and whether he fulfilled his purpose. It is the least I could do,” Lyra sighed, “Sometimes, I see him in my dreams giving me advice. And since your father escaped . . .”

“What was your father’s name?” I wondered. Lyra looked up at me and smiled.

“You still can’t figure it out?” she asked. I shook my head and she smiled again, “Your mother never told you your father had a brother, did he?”

For a long time, I just stared at Lyra. Brother? Sirius Black had a brother? No, my mother never mentioned it. Then again, she doesn’t remember much. I don’t see why anyone would mention the Death Eater brother my traitor father had. It would just make my family look worse. Then I laughed bitterly. But if Lyra was telling the truth, and we were cousins, but Uncle was never bad. Just scared.

“We’re cousins?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe we are,” Lyra nodded, “Sirius Black is my uncle and Regulus Black is yours. We’re cousins!”

“I don’t know if I can believe it,” I admitted.

“Tristan,” Lyra said, “Look at you and then look at me. I have pictures of my dad and yours. They look a lot a like with the light eyes and dark hair. We resemble our fathers. And they resembled each other. We’re cousins.”

I had to admit, she had a good point. I choose to believe her, though I felt dazed and a bit sick. The beautiful story she told, the difference between their fathers. I closed my eyes for a moment and let it all sink in. When I opened them, Lyra was still smiling at me. I suddenly felt very close to her and I stood up offering my hand. Breakfast would start soon and we still needed to change into our school robes. Lyra realized that I believed her and she took my hand.

Author's Note: *slowly comes out from under the bed and laughs nervously* hi!

i know, i know. you all are probably glaring at this a/n thinking, what nerve, right? I know, its been over a year. A very long time. And I know that half my readers have probably given up on this story. But those that are still reading, can you give me a chance to explain?

It's simple really. Real life got in the way. Homework got to be too much, boys became a part of my life, my site was busy, and then I had cheerleading that took over and it was just really hard. I tried to start writing my original stories too. One is ready to be edited adn then hopefully published. :)

But i'm really, terribly sorry. I hope this chapter was worth it. . .

By the way, let's all hug Silver Fish, GW/HP4EVER, Obsessive, hidden_truth, midnight_witch, mes2draco, Blanche, and bethanymalfoy for guessing who Lyra was. And a round of applause for Jewel1390 for getting almost every detail. :)

I hope you all can forgive me. Really, I do. I love this story and all you guys too much to completely disappear, I promise you.

Next chapter:

- Sirius has a new plan
- Tristan deals with more bullying
- Libby and Tristan have a moment
- Libby has more memories.

Please review. I missed you all so much. :)

Chapter 9: The Shake (Awful Feeling)
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disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. Lyrics by My American Heart. :)

Chapter Nine
The Shake (Awful Feeling)

oh, the brilliant mistakes that you seem to make always push me away.
and now you're steppin' on my feet, steppin' on my feet,
cause you were never on my side.

so i'll throw my thoughts into the sea,
where no one will ever find,
and your marvelous episodes of pain will very soon be mine.

i can't seem to shake this awful feeling,
you want, you want, you want me out,
and i can't believe.

they say a mind is a terrible thing to waste,
what good is mine if i'm locked up in a cage?
i was hoping you could help me out of here,
so i could finally disappear.

--My American Heart "The Shake(Awful Feeling)"


I never really saw my brother as brave. I never saw him as generous either. And I never gave him much thought once he disappeared. Yes, I wondered what had become of him and how he was holding up as a Death Eater and all. He never graduated, but he was a smart kid and I figured he’d get by alright. I knew there wasn’t much to worry about. If anything, Regulus was working from the inside of the Voldemort’s circle and trying to make the world right. He didn’t agree with what went on and was just a kid that got in over his head.

I had my own life. I had Libby and soon Tristan . . . and when I got the letter announcing Regulus’s death, I was devastated. I even went to his funeral. Trying to remember if Darcy Smith was there, I remembered that there was a woman with a little girl. I figured it to be a Death Eater’s wife. But her face was covered and the girl was an infant. I hadn’t thought much of her. I didn’t bother wondering why she was there and no other Death Eater was. Just my parents, who didn’t even look at me, and Narcissa who represented the rest of the Blacks that were too above Regulus to watch him be buried. I should have wondered. I was usually very curious about things like that.

It wasn’t easy to push these new thoughts of my brother away. But I had to for more then one reason. Crookshanks, the cat, seemed obsessed with helping me. It was incredibly intelligent and I wondered if the cat was really an animagus. Of course, I was wrong there and soon discovered that this overly intelligent animal enjoyed chasing a disgusting rat that was missing a toe. I could never get close enough, of course, and I had to kill Peter quietly. But these thoughts were fun to think about.

Over the past couple of days, I noticed a change in my son. He was still miserable, that was obvious, but he wasn’t so alone anymore. He had someone that could understand him. Little Ginny seemed confused by Tristan and Lyra’s sudden friendliness. Maybe even a little jealous. However, she seemed to get over this and the group, including a blonde girl, seemed to get along just fine. If anything, I was a little proud Tristan was a misfit. Who wants to be just like everyone else?

Eventually, word got to me that the first Quidditch match of the year would be soon. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. I knew Harry was Gryffindor seeker, but I had yet to see him fly. As much as I was curious about Harry, my own son seemed to my attention a lot more. And in the evenings, there were too many students out to be around the grounds. So I would then hide out in the Shrieking Shack thinking of all the things there were to watch that I was missing.

I was eager to see Harry fly. Very eager. If he took after James at all, well, he should be amazing. It had also been a long time since I’ve seen Quidditch and I wouldn’t give up a chance to see it now. I decided I would go to the game, in dog form of course. I would hide in the back of one of the stands. No one would see me and I would manage to sneak away before anyone sees me.

The morning of the game, it was pouring rain and very windy. For some reason, this made me even more excited. Not only would this be a match where I could watch my godson kick some Slytherin ass, but it should also be pretty good. I was at the school before I was sure it was even breakfast. I was glad my fur was so thick, since it was pretty cold with the rain beating down on me. I was soaked through in seconds.

I waited in the Forest for about an hour when kids started leaking from the castle, bundled up against the rain. More and more kept coming and I realized the Hufflepuff students showing their pride. I was confused. They should be supporting Gryffindor if they weren’t playing . . . it was then I spotted some Slytherin’s coming out of the castle. Though they were still in their Green and Silver, they were waving Hufflepuff flags. If they weren’t in a game, they cheered for whomever Gryffindor would be up against or whomever would be harder to beat when they played them. I realized there had been a change. It was Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor.

I was disappointed.

I got over this quickly, however, when Tristan, Lyra, the blonde, and Ginny exited the castle. They were laughing at something Tristan had said, but he wasn’t looking amused at all. They were dressed in their Red and Gold, screaming Gryffindor. Ginny was walking with a bounce in her step. She had a thing for Harry. I knew that from an encounter I saw between Harry and Ginny the first week of school. James and Lily all over again, only the opposite and without the yelling and stuff.
I followed them, wanting to keep and eye on Tristan as much as Harry. They didn’t realize I was behind them and I got close enough to listen to their conversation.

“—full of bull,” Tristan was saying, “I say Malfoy swinging his arm around the other day when he didn’t think anyone was laughing. He just doesn’t want to get his hair wet.”

“Yes, well, we all know he is a girl,” Lyra shrugged, “Talking up his injury like he really lost his arm. He’s so selfish.”

“No offence, but all Slytherins are,” Tristan shrugged. Lyra nodded and smiled, obvious not offended in the least. A Slytherin passed by. He must have been a 5th year at least. He sneered at the group, his eyes lingering on Lyra.

“Traitor,” he muttered, then looked at Tristan, “Is your father planning on showing up, Black? I’m sure he would just love to see Potter play.”

Tristan said nothing. He simply glared and hung his head and I felt a growl vibrating in my throat. I clenched my jaw. Tristan wouldn’t stick up for himself. It made me feel horrible. Lyra sighed and rolled her eyes to the sky while Ginny stuck her tongue out at the back of the retreating Slytherin. Luna seemed to had missed what happened.

“I hope Gryffindor wins,” she said, “They always put up such a great match.”

“I know!” Ginny seemed grateful for the distraction, “Harry plays wonderfully. I wish it weren’t raining though. I love watching him fly and this will make it a little harder to see.”

“Ginny, I think you’re obsessed,” Lyra said, laughing a little.

“That’s an understatement,” Tristan muttered and Ginny blushed a deep scarlet as they started to head up to the stands. I waited until I was sure no students would be coming in the shadows.

After about a half hour, the stands were full and there was a lot of noise. I hesitated and then hurried up them. They were packed, but I managed to find a seat in the corner. No one paid attention to me and I spotted Tristan, Ginny, Lyra, and Luna cheering on the Gryffindors that had flown onto the pitch. They flew in a circle and I spotted Harry. He did fly wonderfully. I was impressed and I hadn’t even watched him play yet. I felt proud.

The game started.

You couldn’t hear the commentary. The wind was too strong and the rain too heavy. Everyone watched, screaming and cheering though I doubted they knew what was really going on. I watched Harry circle the sky, searching for the Snitch. I always felt like Seekers had so much pressure. They didn’t do much but fly around looking for something that you could barely see in the sun, let alone the rain. But the outcome of the game was really on you.

The game went on and I began to get more and more nervous. The lightning was streaking the sky and the storm was just getting worse. It was too dangerous to continue the game, but it would never be called off. I watched, on the edge of my seat, when a time out was called. Everyone in the stands was still cheering, talking amongst themselves. I felt a pair of eyes on me and looked over.

Tristan was staring at me, very curious. It was the same way he stared at me while at his birthday party. Like he knew I wasn’t a dog. Or maybe, he was wondering why I was following him. I was sure a dog following a kid was not something that normally happened. Or was even sane. He wouldn’t tell anyone he saw me, I was sure of it. Still, I felt exposed suddenly, as I stared back at my son. I wanted to change into my human form and hold him, tell him not to listen to mean Slytherins and that I was like my brother; good at head, just misunderstood.

But the game was back in action and Ginny pulled on his sleeve taking his attention off me.


“Tristan! Look!”

I looked over at Ginny, still aware that the dog was right there. It was definitely following me, I decided. Why would it be here, otherwise? I wondered where I stayed on cold nights like this. I wondered why I was so interested in me. And I wondered why it was so smart. It was almost human, with its intelligence that was so obvious in its eyes. They were light too, for a dog. But it couldn’t be human. What human would want to run around as a dog? In November too!

For the time being, I forgot about the dog.

The game was getting dangerous and very nerve wracking. No one was sure who would win. No one was sure what was even going on. They were all just very aware that the game needed to end very soon. Diggory or Harry needed to catch the Snitch. And soon. The pressure was on.

Lightning flashed. Harry was close to our stand. He was looking in our direction as the lightning flashed again. I looked over at the dog, who’s head was cocked to the side as if confused. And then suddenly, everyone was screaming as Diggory spotted the Snitch. Harry spun around and was soon chasing after it as well. The crowd was going wild, but I was oblivious to it.

The dog had jumped up and was trying to squeeze though everyone without being noticed.

“Tristan!” Lyra called, but I ignored her as I shoved my way through. The crowd was suddenly silent.

I followed the dog down the stairs and down on solid ground again. I then stopped, looking around and froze. Dementors were gliding past me and I ducked back into the stands, eyes wide as they passed by towards the pitch. What were they doing on the grounds? Everything was icy cold and sounds seemed to not exist. The dog was still in view. With a pounding heart, I took a deep breath.

I suppose what I did was pretty stupid. I mean, I ran pass Dementors, feeling them sucking the air. I remembered sad, awful memories and they flashed before my eyes. I clenched my teeth, crying out angrily as I continued running towards the dog, he was heading towards the forest. I didn’t care. I would chase this dog until I couldn’t walk anymore. I needed to know what this dog was doing following me. I was attached to it somehow. I couldn’t explain it.

The forest wasn’t as cold. I stopped at the edge and looked over my shoulder to see a silver light at the stands. The Dementors were fleeing. They were angry now. But they didn’t stop for me. And I relaxed. I was curious to see what happened. Harry had passed out with just one Dementor present. What would happen with hundreds? I was concerned and I was tempted to turn back and see, to be there for a friend. But then I looked over at where the dog disappeared.

My legs chose for me. They starred running again, dodging trees and ducking branches. I had never been in the Forbidden Forest. And I knew I was being foolish. But my legs weren’t in my control anymore. They seemed to know the direction the dog had gone and they wanted me to follow. I didn’t fight it. I just tried to remember the way out, though each tree looked exactly the same. At one point, I wondered if I was jut going crazy and running in a circle anyways. That would look good. I’d lose the friends I have and probably get my own file in St. Mungo’s. My mom would be devastated. Probably blame herself, even. Like mother like son, right?

I felt guilty for thinking my mom crazy. She wasn’t. Just . . . lost. Everyone says my mother and father were inseparable. They said their love was so deep. Without it, my mum is incomplete and that is what is caused her time in St. Mungo’s. And, I now realized, her memory loss. Yes, the medicines probably helped with that, but maybe it was the hole my father left inside her when he betrayed her. After all, I think I would be broken too, if I were that in love.

At this moment, I began to wonder if my father really betrayed my mother. I mean, yes I know that he sold out their best friends and lied to her for years. But I began to wonder if he really wanted to lie to her. I mean, you can’t fake love like that, I don’t think. Not unless he felt it too. Sort of like how Darcy Smith fell in love with Regulus Black. It wasn’t supposed to happen and it was dangerous, but maybe my dad fell in love with my mother on accident.

That would make sense, if you ask me. And in a way, it comforted me, too. I didn’t want to think of my father as this horrible man, even if he was one. Knowing that he could love, and maybe even loved me, was comforting.

I was so deep in my thoughts, I was shocked when I came out of them. The dog was just ahead. He had slowed to a slower trot type gait and I smiled. I would be able to catch up to him now. I would take him back to Hogwarts with me and figure out why it was so smart and what it wanted with me. I felt silly for wanting to kidnap a dog for such a reason, but it seemed the only logical thing to do.

I was so stuck in ways I was going to get the dog without it struggling or biting me and giving me rabies, I didn’t see the root in the ground. It was too late to stop when my foot caught. There was a crack that I really hoped was the root, and then I was falling. I rolled a little in the mud. And then the pain hit me. I gave out a cry and sat up, grabbing my leg that I knew was broken. The world around me was spinning suddenly and I felt sick.

Everything around me began to get fuzzy and I struggled to stay awake. Passing out in the middle of the Forbidden Forest didn’t seem like a very bright idea to me. I bit my bottom lip but couldn’t keep myself from screaming out loud again. The pain was too much and I knew I wasn’t going to be awake much longer. Everything was going black. I looked up and gasped.

I was hallucinating now.

The black dog was standing near by, watching me. I felt like it looked scared and confused as I stared at it. Everything was still blurry. I wasn’t going to be awake much longer and still, I struggled.

“Help me,” I croaked to the dog and then I let myself fall into the darkness where there was no pain.


The moment I got the owl, Tonks and I were running towards Hogwarts.

I was sure we both looked silly, as did the other Aurors stationed in Hogsmeade. We ran like we were really chasing someone and I wondered if someone looking out their window wondered if we finally had hunted down Sirius Black. Of course, Sirius Black was still no where to be seen and we were running towards Hogwarts because the Dementors, it seemed, just could not resist the joy of children enjoying the first Quidditch match of the year.

Of course, my main concern was Tristan getting hurt, though I was not to let anyone else really know that. However, by the time we got to the grounds, where Filch was waiting to let us in, the Dementors had floated back to their stations. At least, the majority had. Two of us were selected to go to the Pitch and search the grounds for any other Dementors that were a little more determined to get some memories. The rest of us were ushered into the castle and towards Dumbledore’s office for some notes.

To be honest, I was disappointed. The first real action since this mission started and barely any of us got to do anything exciting. I wasn’t sure how I was going to react the first time I see my husband again, but I wanted to capture him. And I wanted to be sure she never got away again. My worst fear was that he would get to Tristan before we could get to him. Of course, a lot of people were more convinced that he was after Harry. And I believed he was too. But I also believed that Tristan was also a target. It was, after all, his only son.

Dumbledore was pacing his office. He was not happy with the Dementors, obviously. I never seen Dumbledore angry before. Seeing it not made me wince. He looked up when we walked in and conjured seats for us all and took a seat himself. We all followed his lead and he looked up at us one by one.

“The Dementors need to go,” he said.

“Professor, they can’t,” an Auror, Hanks, said with a sigh, “They may be dangerous, but they are protecting too.”

“Sirius Black gets past the Dementors with or without them there. Who are they protecting?” Dumbledore asked, looking at Hanks. Hanks looked at Dumbledore like he was crazy for a minute. And then shook his head.

“The students, sir. You have Potter and Black in the school. Who knows who else Sirius Black may be after.” Hanks spoke slowly, hesitating. And I shook my head. Hanks knew that Dumbledore was right. The Dementors were too much of a danger to be at Hogwarts. But Hanks was right too. Sirius Black may have gotten past them more then once, but if he’s out in the open and they show up, I’m sure Sirius was not dumb enough to finish what he was doing.

“Professor,” I spoke up, “Hanks does have a point. Sirius has to fear the Dementors. He won’t let them near him.”

“Station the Dementors closer to the school?” Tonks gasped. I looked at her confused for a moment and then rolled my eyes and looked away from her. She was a smart girl, but sometimes, she did not grasp the bigger picture.

“No, leave them where they are,” I explained, “I don’t think they’ll be doing anything more after today’s incident.”

“I believe you’re right, Libby,” Dumbledore nodded, “But if something like this occurs again, I will get rid of them myself. They can’t come that close to the students again.”

We all agreed and I thought of the paperwork I would have to write up on this conversation later. It was all rather boring. I thought chasing after Sirius Black would be exciting and I would always be moving and busy. But so far, nothing. Really, it was the most boring mission I have ever been signed on. And I wondered if Kingsley stationed me here in Hogsmeade because this was where the least action was at the moment. Whether or not Sirius was saying he’s at Hogwarts in his sleep.

As everyone was leaving, Dumbledore called me back and I turned towards him and smile. Dumbledore smiled too. That twinkle was returning now and I was grateful that this conversation was not going to be depressing at all. And I certainly hoped it was not going to be about Tristan; I was already worried about him, I don’t think I would be able to continue if I was anymore worried. I hated that Tristan was so unhappy.

“Is Tristan alright, Professor?” I asked instantly.

“Yes, I believe he is. Over the past few days, he has seemed better. Relieved almost,” Dumbledore explained, “I thought after Sirius broke in that maybe things for him would just get worse.”

“I thought so too,” I said. I was relieved myself that Tristan was doing better. I didn’t want him hating his years at Hogwarts. And he was still so young, just a kid even if he did have the tendency to act older.

“Would you like to go see Harry? I’m sure he’s awake by now. He should still be in the hospital wing. And I’m sure Tristan would be there too.”

I left right away and headed towards the hospital wing. I turned a corner and stopped. I remembered.

“What do you think about the new team?” Sirius finally broke the silence.

“We should do pretty good this year,” I grinned, “I mean, the new members will get better once they get trained a bit more. And we know how hard James is going to work us all. His life is Lily Evans and Quidditch.”

“Poor guy,” Sirius said sadly. We laughed quietly for a minute.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if I was a guy’s life,” I said after thinking, “Yeah, it would be weird if he like stalked me, but like how James is with Lily. So in love that he’ll do anything for her.”

“I thought it was a bit pathetic,” Sirius muttered. I turned my head to look at him.

“I want that,” I said, a bit defensive. Sirius looked at me now, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll find it someday,” he said in a little more the a whisper.

This would have been a nice moment. A very nice one, indeed. However, it seemed that right now I wasn’t supposed to enjoy this nice moment. I was still staring at Sirius, shocked by how gorgeous his grey eyes are. I totally forgot I was walking and as Sirius and I turned a corner, I turned to early and—Smack!

I walked right into the wall, banging my head.

“Ow!” I said falling back and grabbing my head. I felt Sirius grab my arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, I heard the amusement in his voice. I opened my scrunched up eyes and saw he was smiling, but a concerned look was in his eyes. I ignored the look.

“You’re laughing at me!” I pouted.

“Well, that was pretty funny,” Sirius admitted, “You were just walking and then smacked right into the wall. It was like you forgot you were solid,”

“Well, I was to busy looking at you, so this is your fault,” I said, I pulled my hand from my head, “Is it red?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, “There’s going to be a bruise,”

“Damn,” I muttered.

Suddenly, Sirius was hugging me. He kissed my forehead lightly, right where I had bumped it. I tensed up and looked at him, shocked. I seemed to fit into his body perfectly. Yes, I was much smaller then him, but I seemed to be perfect for him to hug. I almost smiled, but held it back.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making you feel better,” Sirius grinned

“Thanks,” I sighed and rested my head on his chest. Again, this was a nice moment. But nice moments didn’t want to happen today because my stomach grumbled in hunger. Sirius laughed.

“You need food. Come on,” he said. Then he lead me to the kitchens.

I came out of the memory shocked. I turned towards that corner again and then touched my forehead. I remembered Sirius kissing me there often. It always had a way of comforting me. I remembered so clearly what it was like when his soft lips would press against my skin for a moment. I remembered his lips on my own. I touched my lips. I always loved his kisses. I loved anything he did. I loved him.

Normally, I would try to hold onto a memory and it would slip away. But as I let it go, pleading it to go so my aching heart would stop, it stuck with me. The memory was more then clear. It was like watching a clip form a movie. My heart ached some more and then I realized that I still loved Sirius, even if he did betray and lie to me. I always would. He was, after all, my first love. And my love for him always ran deep. With a sigh, I knew that it would take more then 12 years for me to get over a love like that. It would probably take more then a lifetime.

I continued to the Hospital wing, more eager to see Tristan now.

Everyone looked up when I entered. Harry, it seemed, hadn’t woken up too long ago and was staring at a pile of wood like his dog just died. I realized it was his broomstick and I knew how he felt. My own broomstick had broken back in my sixth year. I remembered that it was Sirius that caught me. Ben had been too involved in the game or something.

“Ms. Cullen!” Ginny said brightly, I gave her a smile.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” I asked, looking at him. My motherly instincts came alive as I looked at him with concerned. Harry gave me a sheepish smile.

“I’m alright,” he muttered. He seemed embarrassed almost and disappointed. Everyone seemed disappointed.

I looked around and saw that Ginny was there and the other Weasleys. Hermione and the rest of the Quidditch team was there as well. But no Tristan. I was instantly saddened by this. I looked at Ginny.

“Where’s Tristan?” I asked. Ginny shrugged.

“He went running when the Dementors came. I figured he was running from them, but I haven’t seem him sense. And I don’t think he would just be so careless and no check up on Harry,” she said. I could tell she was a little worried. Even more concerned for Tristan then I was Harry, I nodded.

I went back to Dumbledore and told him what Ginny told me. He, too, was also worried by this and had the portraits check the school. Each returned with not sign of him. I sat in Dumbledore’s office for an hour when Tonks came back with a very weak Remus.

“Remus!” I gasped.

“Hello, Libby,” Remus gave me a weak smile, “I heard Tristan was missing. I wanted to wait with you.”

I stared at Remus for a long time and smiled, “You’re sweet,” I said, “But you really don’t have to. You can go to bed.” He shook his head determined.

Another hour went by. And then another half hour.

There was still no sign for Tristan and Remus had long fallen asleep. Tonks was staring at him. I stood up.

“I’m getting the other Aurors,” I announced, “We need to find my son.”

Author's Note: Hello again! Yes,as you can see I really am back. I decided I needed to get back into writing. Like big time, obviously. And I'm going to finish this story, Hold Your Tongue, and Sister Potter 3 before I offically leave. Though, I have some new ideas i want to ask YOU guys about. I'll be around a lot longer, I think, whether I am published or not. :)

So my first idea was a short story about Darcy Smith and Regulus Black. You know, more detail on what really happened and why. I would write it when i'm done with my other three stories, of course, because i don't like when things are piled up. Anyways, it would be a short story. no more then 15 chapters, and thats at the most. And yes, it would be another spin off from It was Only A Kiss.

My other idea I got yesterday when a reviewer (LilyEmeraldFlower). She made me think when she asked if this story will be ending after Tristan's 4th (Harry's 5th) or if we will see Tristan graduate. Originally, it was to stop at 4th year, because after Harry's 5th year, well, the point of Libby and Tristan remembering Sirius is kind of done with. That plot is over.

So what do you guys think of a third part to It Was Only A Kiss? It would be Tristan's 5th-7th year. I think it would be interesting to write about him and Ginny at Hogwarts with the Death Eaters in year 6. And then afterwards in year 7. But i don't want to over do it, you know? What do you all think??

Thanks so much for everyone that has returned! I will update again soon! Please review!


Chapter 10: Take Care
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disclaimer: everything is JKR's. The plot is twisted to fit my own.

Chapter Ten: Take Care

So take care of you and I'll take care of me
We're just lonely hearts looking for melodies

- A Change of Pace "Take Care"


I had sensed the Dementors before anyone else. That and Harry had spotted me and gave me such a terrified look, that I didn’t feel much like sticking around. So, I ran. I ran really fast, too. Right in front of the dementors. I was a little relieved the happiness of the students was too strong for them to sense me. I got passed them and into the forbidden forest without any problems, though I didn’t stop running.

When I slowed down, I was ready to curl up and fall asleep in a safe place. It was the only thing I could do while I waited for the dementors to really be gone. It was then that I heard a thud and a cry. I stopped, suddenly realizing that someone had been following me. Then I realized that the familiar voice, one I would be able to pick out anywhere, was my own son’s. I spun around and hurried back the way I came stopping by a tree when I found my son on the ground.

He had broken his leg. He was holding onto it in pain and looking pale and ready to pass out. I stared at my son in fear, unsure of what to do and how to do it. His eyes were out of focus and he was breathing heavily. His hair was wet from the rain and I knew that Tristan would not be able to say awake much longer. He looked up at me and gasped. I was not sure if he knew I was really there or not. Maybe, if I changed, he would think I was simply a dream and not mention it to anyone. I couldn’t risk it and I didn’t want him to be in more fear then he was already.

“Help me,” he pleaded and I leaped to action just as he passed out, falling back on the wet grounds of the forest. I nudged him and then turned into my human form.

“Tristan?” I whispered, brushing his face. His skin was still soft and young, being too young to shave.

I was in a bit of a shock to be touching my son for the first time in 12 years. And I realized that I was being more gentle then I ever have been; as if Tristan was a fragile piece of glass that would break with even the slightest touch. I felt tears in my eyes as my hatred for Peter flared twice as much. He took my life away from me. He took Tristan and Libby away from me.

I wanted to kill him even more now.

And I wanted to help Tristan.

I realized why Tristan had chased after me. He knew I was following him and wanted to know why. He was curious, just like me. And now, because of me, he was laying on the cold ground, broken and unconscious. I pushed some of his silky, dark hair from his forehead, shocked by how much it was like my own. Then I searched his pockets, finding his wand in his right and waving it so his leg was in not so much pain. Then I dried the ground around him and made him a little more comfortable, as well as warmed him will simple spells I was grateful I still remembered.

Not wanting to be seen if he woke up, I turned back into a dog and laid against Tristan in an attempt to keep him warmer. It seemed to be working because soon, Tristan was stirring and I lifted my head to see that he was waking up. His eyes, as they fluttered open, seemed to wave in and out of focus as he forced himself to wake up and stay awake. And then I smiled in relief as he opened them all the way and seemed to be aware of where he was.

He sat up and I scooted away, just incase. Tristan just stared at me and then looked at his leg. I did not bind it or fix it. Instead, I simply lifted most of the pain away. I was sure that it would be worse later, but by then he would be in a hospital wing where he could get better pain medicine and the help he really needs. It would last until then and I was sure he would not feel extreme pain unless he re-breaks it.

“Who are you?” Tristan spoke. I was surprised to see he was glaring at me. I barked and cocked my head to the side. I couldn’t help my tail from wagging. Tristan noticed.

“What?” Tristan snapped, “You don’t feel sorry that I’m sitting here in the rain with a broken leg with no way back? You don’t care that I’m lost because I was following you?” then he looked away and muttered to himself, “Talking to a stupid dog.”

I lay down with a whine and put my paws over my eyes to show how miserable I was. I swore I heard Tristan chuckle, but when I dared to peak he wasn’t looking at me. Then he sighed and shifted his position, careful not to knock his leg too much. He looked a little confused.

“It doesn’t hurt much, anymore,” he whispered and then looked up at me, “What are you doing here? I thought you were running away. Why aren’t you now? You’ve been following me, I know you have. You’re a dog, too. How do you even know who I am?”

I made a noise in the back of my throat and Tristan shook his head at me. He knew I understood and that made me a little worried. Would Tristan catch on? I knew he had to be pretty smart. I didn’t think I was ready for him to know that the dog he was talking to was really his father. I wasn’t sure if Tristan was ready to know either. And I knew that Libby was definitely not ready to know. Tristan would not keep himself from telling his mother either, I knew.

“Stupid dog,” Tristan repeated under his breath.

I didn’t mean to, but I gave a little growl. Obviously, I was anything but stupid. Tristan looked up at the noise and frowned. I felt bad suddenly and once again put my paws over my eyes, ashamed. There was a silence and suddenly I felt Tristan’s hand running through the thick, matted fur. I wished it was as silky and soft as his, but everything about me changed when I went to Azkaban.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I’m just frustrated.”

I lifted my head to look at him. I made another noise in the back of my throat. Would he get that I was asking him why? That I was trying to show him concern? Tristan continued to pull his fingers through my fur. He pulled a little, where the knots and tangles were too stubborn. But I didn’t really care if he pulled. He was trying to be gentle, I knew. He gave a sigh and shifted a little bit.

“I don’t know how well you can understand me, but I know you understand me to an extent,” Tristan began, “And I know you have been watching me. It’s strange, I’ll admit, but I guess you’re not really dangerous. At least I hope not. All I need is for some super-dog to be following me around, listening to my conversations, just to have everything delivered back to Voldemort.”

I growled at the name and sat up, pulling my head from underneath Tristan’s fingers. He didn’t fear the name, I was proud of him for that. But to think a dog as innocent as me was going to go and tell Voldemort that my son was laying in the dirt of the Forbidden Forest alone? I had to remind myself that it was a little suspicious. And I had to feel a little proud of him for even wondering if I was with Voldemort. Again, I felt pretty proud of him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” Tristan said, his voice quiet. He looked at his watch and frowned, “I need to find my way back. My mum is in Hogsmeade. I have no doubt that she’s looking for me. Really, I have no doubt that she flipping out while looking for me. I’ve been gone a while.”

Tristan looked around as if trying to find a way out. He kept glancing at me and then pointed at a stick that was about his height. It stood near a wide tree.

“Go get me that stick, please,” Tristan ordered and I stared at him for a moment and he bit his lip, “Fetch boy!” I cocked my head and then stood up and shook myself. I wasn’t going to get the stick. I was a large dog and I was big enough for Tristan to either ride me or lean against me. No stick was necessary. Tristan seemed to figure this out, “Ride you?” he asked and I barked. Taking a deep breath, Tristan pulled himself up using my back. It hurt a little, but I stood still and strong until Tristan was on his feet. I was grateful he was still only twelve. If he was older, then there would be a problem.

Slowly, Tristan made it way on my back. He was lighter then I had guessed and that concerned me. He was thin as it was; did he get enough to eat or was depression eating away at him? I waited until Tristan was secure and then started to walked slowly. It would have been better to run; I would have gotten Tristan to Libby much sooner, but I didn’t want to jostle Tristan’s leg much more then it already was.


My leg was killing me. It seemed that whatever pain had disappeared when I was passed out was quickly returning as I rode the dog back to the castle. Yeah, I was riding a dog. A large, black dog that seemed to understand every word I say – except for fetch – and wanted to help me more then any other dog should want to help me. But I was grateful for the ride; much better then limping my way in circles, searching for the way out or following the dog again. The dog walked slowly as if to make it easier on my leg.

“You’re too smart for a dog,” I said as we made our way through and feeling a little foolish, “I mean, how can a dog know to watch me? You’ve probably seen me fly and talk with Lyra and Ginny and Luna. You probably know my grades better then I do and a million other things. I have a feeling I should be a little freaked by you watching me. It’s like having my own personal stalker, only on four legs,” I reached over and patted him on the head, “You can’t be too bad though, if you’re saving me. I watched this show on this Muggle television once about these rescue dogs that could save lives. Supposedly they would get depressed if they found a dead body instead of a live person in need of help. Are you like that?”

The dog made a noise that sounded a little like a laugh. He barked a few times, scaring some birds from a nearby tree and into the rainy sky. I laughed too. No, this dog was definitely not a rescue dog. But something made him want to rescue me. Was it just because I was some helpless pre-teen wanting to understand a dog? Or was it because I was special to him? Maybe I reminded him of his old owner or maybe he just liked kids that didn’t exactly fit in? I mean, my friends were misfits. I was a misfit. And maybe being different was something that attracted strays? I mean, he was obviously different from his kind, too.

I gave a sigh, wincing as my leg bumped against the side of the dog. I wondered if I were heavy for him. If my weight was too much for him, he didn’t let me know. We would be moving slower then this if I had walked, anyways. I listened to the dog’s breathing. It was even and not at all rough so I felt better, knowing that he was at least alright carrying me and moving forward.

“Life is unfair, isn’t it?” I asked the dog suddenly, “I mean, look at you wandering around the Forbidden Forest. And then me, twisted son of Sirius Black. But then you have people like Harry, suffering from fame and expectations. And then there are people that are happy with the way their life is, like Lyra. Sometimes I wonder if she is actually lying to me about Regulus Black being her father. She is so laid back about it. It’s like she said to me that one night when my dad broke into the school ‘you are who you are.’” I was thoughtful for a moment, “How is she so capable of accepting herself and I can’t?”

The dog made a noise that I was sure was his explanation. Shame I don’t speak dog, because I would have liked to know what it was that he was saying and maybe solve my problems. But that was silly. Animals don’t solve problems. And even if they did, they wouldn’t solve my problems. This was something I had to overcome myself. Would it take months? Years? Weeks? Argh!

“My mum is probably flipping out. I can see her now, running around the school with Lupin and Dumbledore at her heels trying to calm her,” I gave a sigh, “I worry too much about her. She’s so . . . unstable. Sometimes I think she would be better off if the drugs and spells hadn’t worn away the painful memories she tried so hard to block out. Maybe then she wouldn’t be running around England trying to figure things out, you know? She’d be able to be my mum and I could be the kid.”

Again, the dog whined. This time, he sounded as if he was in pain and I worried that it was my weight. But the dog kept moving, not even shuddering under my weight as he walked. Something else had disturbed him, not me. Was it something I said? I leaned forward a few inches, my fingers lacing through the dog’s fur. It was a little greasy and very knotted. The poor thing was probably sleeping out in the Forbidden Forest every night. And merlin did this guy need a bath!

“I shouldn’t say such things,” I said to the dog, “Mum is a great mother, she just can’t always be there. Since dad . . . well, since my dad betrayed her. Remus and Jacob said that they were very much in love and that’s why Mum took it so hard. I wish I had known him,” I gave a sigh and realized I was ranting to the dog, “Stupid me talking to a dog. You don’t understand a think I’m saying, do you?”

The dog barked and hopped a little. I winced at the pain that spread through my leg and groaned a little. The dog whined an apology and I felt even dumber. Telling the dog he doesn’t understand me. The dog has understood me better in this last hour then people I have known my entire life.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the dog and then pause, “You need a name. Just something that I can call you since, really, its stupid for me to call you Dog. Would you like a name?”

The dog barked. I grinned.

“Alrighty . . . how about something ironic? Like . . . Fluffy. I mean, I’m sure you were fluffy back before you started following me and sleeping in dirt and rain every night. Do you like Fluffy?” I asked the dog. He made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. But that was silly, a dog laughing? I grinned for real for the first time since I returned to school, “Then Fluffy it is! And as soon as I get my leg healed, I’m going to find a brush and some food and I’m going to come and find you. There’s something odd about you. You’re definitely not like my old dog, Ace. Actually, he was my dad’s old dog, but he passed away a few years ago. Anyways, he was really stupid compared to you. And you listen to me. As crazy as it sounds, you listen to me.”

I laughed a little and noticed that the trees weren’t so thick and it wasn’t as dark. Of course, the rain was just a little harder without the leaves and branches overhead guarding it. My hair was in my eyes. It had gotten pretty long since I returned to school. I always wore it long, but now my bangs hung in my eyes, making me have to snap my head to the side in an attempt to get it out of my face. I did that now, but my hair didn’t want to cooperate and the wet pieces fell back into my face.

Minutes later, the dog was emerging from the trees and I looked around. The castle was to my left and Hagrid’s hut to my right. The Quidditch Pitch was in the distance. I hadn’t realized that I had been traveling away from it as well as deep into the Forbidden Forest. A chill went down my spine. How easy it was to get lost in the woods. I was thankful that dog had come back for me and I wasn’t mad that chasing him was the reason for snapping my leg.

“Tristan!” I heard a voice and looked up. It was Remus. The dog shied, as if panicking and I carefully climbed off. I balanced and turned to the animal but he was running through the woods again, gone. Remus nearly toppled me, “What was that?”

“What?” I asked, wincing as my leg screamed in pain.

“The dog . . . it was . . .” Remus stopped and then looked at me, “Nevermind, are you alright? What’s wrong with your leg? Your mother has been flipping out.”


Tristan was sleeping comfortably in a bed in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had fixed up his leg, muttering about spells to take the pain away being useless because it just makes them hurt more later. I had not known that Tristan knew how to heal injuries. I assumed, however, that it was in one of those books he always was reading and had put the thought in the back of his mind, just in case. Now, however, I was not concerned with how skilled and advanced Tristan could do magic. I was much more concerned with his health.

Beside his leg, there were no issues with Tristan. He was exhausted and his reasoning for running through the Forbidden Forest seemed off. Honestly, Tristan wasn’t one to run away from dark things and he wouldn’t have left Ginny behind if that was the case. Dumbledore had commented on Tristan following something and Remus had stiffened at the thought. I don’t think Tristan would be that stupid, but then again, he was incredibly curious sometimes. But Tristan had stuck by his story, muttering it over and over again before he finally fell asleep.

It was Remus that had found him. I don’t know how Tristan managed to leave the Forbidden Forest with a broken leg, but I didn’t really want to think about it. He was safe now, his leg healing quite nicely, according to the medi-witch. I brushed his hair off his forehead, amazed by how soft it felt and then looked across the bed where Remus was sitting. He had been quiet since he returned, carrying Tristan.

“Something wrong, Remus?” I asked. His head snapped up in surprise.

“No, no. Just thinking,” he muttered and then looked at me curiously, “I thought I saw Tristan with a dog. A big, black dog.”

I frowned for a moment, “Tristan hasn’t mentioned a dog.”

“I know, it might have been my imagination. You know, the big, black dog. Bigger then a normal dog . . . ?” Remus let his voice trail off like he wanted me to finish a sentence for him. I shook my head at him, confused.

“Tristan was not running around with the Grim,” I laughed and Remus sighed.

“Of course not,” he muttered.

I didn’t press Remus for anymore details. But a while after our conversation, he stood up, patted Tristan on the hand and left the room. Now, it was just me and my son. My whole world. It was insane how a child can change your whole world. One moment, you love your husband and your new life with him, and then a baby comes along and that baby becomes everything to you. I wondered, if Sirius hadn’t turned around and left us both, how Sirius would feel about Tristan. Proud, I would hope.

But if Sirius hadn’t been proud of Tristan, that wouldn’t have mattered because I had more then enough pride in me for the both of us. I smiled a little sadly as I stared at my twelve year old: my baby. Sirius would have definitely been proud of him. Surprising myself, I could clearly see Sirius strutting around the Ministry and home, bragging about his gorgeous son and how he takes right after him. Tristan would have been Sirius’s life and world, too. I closed my eyes for a moment and, again surprising myself, remembered the way Sirius had always acted around Tristan. No longer was Sirius was kid, but a father. And I think he was never happier.

So why did he betray us all?

Again, I had the feeling that something was missing. Something big that Remus sensed, Dumbledore sensed, and I knew. I cursed myself. I can sometimes remember so much, but never that one little piece that seemed so important! Why couldn’t I remember it already?

Frustrated, I pressed my forehead to the soft bed, the top of my head resting against Tristan’s arm. And then he was moving. I felt his hand rise and then stroke the back of my head in comfort. Tristan knew I was upset. Tristan knew I was struggling. But he was struggling more then the both of us. I pushed my stress and frustration aside and sat up to smile at my son.

“You haven’t been sleeping for long,” I said.

“I’m not really that tired,” Tristan replied and yawned, completely contradicting himself. He gave me a sheepish grin and ducked his head, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’ve been running around the Forbidden Forest with a broken leg all day,” I reminded him with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tristan says and yawns again, “Where’s Ginny, Luna, and Lyra?”

“I haven’t seen them for sometime now. They came in when you had first fallen asleep but Madame Pomfrey sent them away again. They’ll be back later. All three seemed incredibly worried,” I smile wider at him.

Tristan nods and hesitated for a moment before looking up at me, “Did Dad have a brother named Regulus?” he asked. I was shocked and nodded.

“Yeah, he left Hogwarts for Death Eater training when I was a sixth year,” I answer, thinking about to that night. Sirius had been upset, though everything was a little blurry, “Your father didn’t like it. We tried to get him to stay, but Regulus was terrified. He didn’t really have a choice. He died not too long before Sirius . . . well, you know that story. Why?”

Again, Tristan hesitated and then shrugged, “Just something Lyra had said. She’s in Slytherin, so she hears a bunch of things.”

I nodded, but Tristan’s carefully composed face told me that he was keeping a secret from me. As his mother, I should try and get it out of him, but I didn’t want to force Tristan. He will tell me when he’s ready to tell me. Right now, I will just let him try and understand it himself. Of course, knowing that Tristan was hanging around a Slytherin made me a little nervous. But then again, she was hanging around two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she was dangerous.

Tristan continued to insist that he wasn’t tired, but he was sleeping again within the hour. I laughed at him and decided that I would have to leave him to rest for now. I kissed his forehead, told Madame Pomfrey that I’ll be back soon and left the Hospital Wing. I went to Dumbledore’s office and took a seat in one of the chairs he had conjured up for me. The office was empty and I checked the time to see that it was a quarter to nine. There wouldn’t be any students wandering the hallways anymore, but Dumbledore was a busy man.

Before long, I dozed off.

A/n: Holy moly! A new chapter!

Sorry it took so long to get out. But with the lack of my trusted author's status and my sudden sparks of inspiration, things are coming out slowly but surely. (I even updated Hold Your Tongue for the first time in how many years?). This chapter is one of my favorites so I really hope you liked it.

Thank you so much for reading!