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joshsindigostreak · 3 months

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O, Pioneers

Chapter One

“We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way.” - Walt Whitman

Sam Kiszka x F!OC

What started out as a series of emails snowballed into Sam Kiszka having the one person in his field he could not stand to staying in his house for a few days. It’s only for a few days. Can he survive having her around him 24/7 or will Natasha Delaney end up being the one to foil all of his plans?

Authors Note: Hey y’all!! Sorry for leaving you hanging so long with this story I wanted to get the other three stories established before I got back to this just for consistency sake. But I do hope you like Sam’s story. I have so much planned for it ❤️ if you need to catch up on the Prologue you can read it here!

Disclaimer: *Set in the months prior to ISHIYE, so in the same universe but can be read independently. It’ll crossover the most with Running Through the Garden and there will be references to the other fics but not to the point of confusion. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,793

Warnings: Some swearing but that’s it for now.

The Kiszka Estate as it was often referred to was truly a sight to behold. The grounds weren’t massive, but the Manor itself was a four-story English Tudor that danced the line of being over the top while reeking of Olde Money. The family had been living on this property for generations, and depending on what you thought of them it was either referred to as the Manor or the Compound.

Natasha stood in the circular driveway, her luggage sitting idly beside her as the Uber drove off, leaving her alone outside. She could tell whoever designed the house intended it to be visually intimidating, but it wasn’t working on her.

Of course the mother fucker couldn’t actually pick me up from the airport, she growsed in her head. He did however, set up her Uber for her, so she didn’t have to pay for it, but it was the principle of it all. She squared her shoulders and picked up her bags, listening to the gravel crunch under her shoes as she approached the front door.

As she ascended the steps to the Manor, the massive front door swung open to reveal Sam Kiszka. Natasha stopped in her tracks as she took him in. The Sam before her was significantly different than the last time she saw him on graduation day. His hair was still long, but looked like a professional had finally started cutting it, his forehead was frustratingly blemish free, and those Sanpaku eyes stared right through her as they always did. But the biggest difference was the surprising amount of facial hair on him. He couldn’t grow a thing on his face back in college, and any attempts were so patchy and thin that it was never worth it to even try. But now? Now there was a thick mustache sitting on his top lip, accompanied by an equally thick tuft of hair sprouting from his chin. The way his chin hair was creeping up his jawline, it was clear he was letting it do its own thing and not actively trimming it to stay in one spot. He wasn’t as willowy as he was either, having finally started to fill out. He looked so different yet so…Sam at the same time. He looked goo-

“I thought you said your flight was coming in at two, Nat?”

Mood ruined. That smart ass tone was still ever present in his voice.

“It did,” she replied flatly.

“It's nearly 4:30 PM.”

“I’m glad you can tell time, Kiszka,” she rolled her eyes and continued towards the doorway. He scoffed under his breath as she walked past him and into the house.

“I’m just saying that keeping someone waiting like this is rude,” he remarked as he shut the door behind them.

“Well it’s not my fault that it takes well over an hour to get from the airport to these…hallowed grounds,” Natasha gave him an irritated look over her shoulder, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Sam rolled his eyes back at her, and the conversation he had had with his best friend Daniel a few days prior ran through his mind.

“Just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be having a guest at the house this weekend, she’ll be flying in around 2:00 PM,” Sam threw out before taking a bite out of his bagel.

Danny stared at him from across the little table they were sitting at. Every few days they’d have breakfast together before going their separate ways for the day, and on this particular Wednesday morning, Danny was taken aback by what Sam had just said.

He leaned forward towards Sam and rested his elbows on the table, “you’re having a guest…at your house?”

“Mmmhmm,” Sam replied, still chewing.

“...and this guest is a girl?” Danny tried to not smile but his eyes twinkled anyway, “is there someone I don’t know about?”

Sam finally swallowed and looked up at him, realizing how he made this sound, “Oh don’t get that look on your face this is strictly for professional reasons. She won’t be here for very long.”

“Professional reasons,” the skepticism clouded Danny’s voice.

“Yes. You know her anyway,” he added before drinking more of his coffee.

Now Danny was even more curious, “I do?”

“Yeah. It's Nat Delaney.”

The Wolf blinked several times at Sam before answering, “Delaney is staying…at your house?”

“Yeah it’s just for some of her own research. There’s an artifact she needs to get her hands on and I refused to risk it through the shitty mail system so she came to me instead,” at this Sam had finished his meal and sat back in his own seat.

Natasha was a frequent subject between the two of them in college. She was the only student at that university to get better grades than Sam, which pissed him off to no end. Danny had no issue with her, as she was always nice to him and her exceptional grades didn’t matter to him. Even though his best friend bitched about it constantly, they were both still the top of their class. He also thought that a little competition for Sam was good for him. It wouldn’t keep him humble by any means, but it would keep him on his toes.

“How did this happen?”

“We exchanged some professional emails and she explained her dire situation and I, just happened to be the solution to her problem,” Sam didn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face.

The two friends stared at each other for a few minutes, but with entirely different trains of thought.

“So is she just going to stay in one of the guest-”

“I’ve already got the corner room cleaned up for the most part, just have to get some of Jake’s shit out of it.”

Danny had been wandering the halls of Sam’s house since he was 14 years old, and he knew exactly what room Sam was referring to. The ‘corner room’ was what they called one of the many rooms that was intended to be for guests, but over the years each of the kids started using it as a storage room given its proximity to their bedrooms. The proper guest rooms were on the first floor, just off the kitchen. The corner room was also a literal description, as it was at the end of the hall on the second floor. The corner room was also directly across from Sam’s.

“Why that room?” Danny asked, his eyes twinkling again in curiosity.

“It was the closest room I’d need to clean out and the rooms downstairs and who wants to stay in the rooms downstairs that my parents' weird friends use?”

“Ok,” Danny said, elongating the letters and not believing a word that came out of Sam’s mouth but playing along anyway. “Are you going to put a chocolate on her pillow?”

Sam gave him a look, “totally and I have so much of it around the house since you can’t eat it.”

Danny frowned in offense, “I can eat chocolate, Sam and you know it.” It was a common stereotype that since Wolves were in fact, Wolves, that they couldn’t have chocolate like regular canines couldn’t. It also had been at the center of an incident where Sam’s mom had brownies left out on the counter and Danny dove in and shoved a corner piece into his mouth, and Sam panicked that he was going to get sick from it. But no, the young Wolf was fine. After that it became a running joke between the two friends.

“Anyway, she should only be here for a few days max and then she’ll be off to whatever it is she’s been doing,”

“I’m definitely swinging by. I’m not going to miss the two of you kill each other.”

“I can assure you, Daniel, that she won’t be there long enough for that to happen.”

“Sure. I believe that. You couldn’t even go five minutes in Professor Reid’s class without snapping and correcting each other. Or all the times you started arguing in the library and nearly got kicked out for being loud. Or when you’d fight over that one bench under the will-“

Danny. It’ll be fine.”

Sam was snapped out of his memory by Natasha’s voice. She had walked into the main corridor of the house, right next to the grand wooden stairs and the archway into the formal living room.

“So where in this palace am I going to be staying? How many bedrooms is there? Eleven? An even dozen?”

“Seven. And your room is upstairs.”

She looked up the stairs to her left, noting the carpet that ran down the middle of the steps, the solid wood rail and banisters. The whole manor was the definition of ‘they don’t make them like this anymore.’ The family clearly spared no expense preserving the integrity of the architecture over the decades.

“Lead the way, Kiszka.”

She stepped back to let Sam get in front of her and before she could reach for her bags, long slender fingers curled around the handles. Sam didn’t say a word and began up the stairs, taking her heaviest bag with him. She stared at him momentarily, surprised by the gesture, but quickly recovered with the rationale that it was the least he could do at this point.

At the top of the stairs Sam took a right down the open hallway that led down a corridor that split off in two opposite directions. He took a right and Natasha counted three doors on either side of the hall before Sam stopped at a final fourth door on the right. There was a door at the very end of the hallway, right between the final two doors on either side.

Sam used his free hand to twist the doorknob, revealing the room behind it.

The first thing Natasha noticed were two nearly floor to ceiling windows on the wall that was opposite the doorway, flanking a large four poster bed. She followed Sam into the room and spotted another door on the far wall on the right, which she guessed was for a closet. There were antique-looking amber lamps on both nightstands, and as she turned to view the wall next to the door, she saw one of the most beautiful rolltop desks she had ever seen, pushed up into the corner with a few bookshelves on the right of the desk leading back to the doorframe.

It was another antique, and the craftsmanship and details in the wood was so intricate that it had to have been done by hand. She wanted to run over and push the lid back to reveal the actual writing surface and the little drawers for writing supplies.

Sam's voice cut through your thoughts, “it’s not much but it’ll work while you’re here.”

Natasha turned around and gawked at him, it nearly irritated her how privileged he sounded, “Sam this is a beautiful room.”

He blinked at her, not used to hearing her verbalize positive sentiments. After a few moments of eye contact he looked around the room and asked, “so, where do you want me to put your stuff?”

She pointed to the foot of the bed, where a small bench sat just in front of the frame, “there is fine.”

As he situated the bags, she turned to walk over to the large windows. The view was almost better than the room itself. The lush lawn stretched out on the grounds below, a thick blanket of trees stood off in the distance, fencing in the grass. She looked to the right of the window and her eyes went wide at the sight of what appeared to be a small but ambitious garden. Several raised beds were lined up in neat little rows, along with a few ground-level beds off to the side.

She looked over her shoulder at Sam who was still standing there with his hands in his pockets, “is that your garden?” Maybe the light was playing tricks on her but she could’ve sworn that Sam’s cheeks reddened at the question.

“Yes.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “you garden?”

“That’s typically what one does in a garden, Nat.”

Her brows fell at his tone, there was the Sam she knew.

“I was just surprised because you never took any of the horticulture classes at Lakewood, at least from what I remember.”

He shrugged, “I didn’t really get into it until after we graduated.”

The image of Sam Kiszka gardening was an image that would remain locked in her head. Nope, no one was going to know about the way she instantly envisioned Sam of all people gently watering a tomato plant.

“Well, hobbies are good,” she said lamely. What the fuck, Delaney? Hobbies are good? You simpleton. Desperately needing to change the subject, she turned on her heel and pointed over to the roll top desk in the corner, “that’s really pretty.”

Sam looked over at the antique, he wouldn’t tell her that he spent the better part of an hour the day before dusting and polishing the wood. He wouldn’t tell her that he was on the floor making sure to get all the nooks and crannies of the legs, clearing out any cobweb he saw. There was no way he was going to let any piece of furniture be the subject of her scrutiny. Natasha Delaney, knowing he had a dusty house? That would be humiliating. Right?

Right?

“Oh, yeah, that was my great-grandmother’s. It was a present from my great-grandfather to make up for him being stuck in France for a lot longer than he intended because of a hunting job.”

Natasha nodded in response and walked over to the desk. She turned back to Sam, “can I…”

“Go right ahead,” he replied while walking over towards his rival.

She smiled and turned around to lift the roll top, but it didn’t budge. She tentatively tried again, but it would not lift at all. Well shit.

Sam saw her struggle and reached around her to help, their arms brushing against each other.

“Sorry it gets stuck sometimes,” he mentally cursed himself by not double checking before she got there. His large hand nearly wrapped around hers to get a grip on the small handle. Her wine-colored nails stood out to him. The undertone of the polish complimented her skin perfectly. The same skin that felt so soft in comparison to his. The image of Natasha meticulously painting her nails flashed in his mind but he quickly shook it away by focusing back on the desk. In slight frustration he jerked at the handle one final time and it immediately slid up and into place, revealing the rest of the desk.

A small gasp left Natasha’s lips as she saw the gorgeous inlays on the writing surface.

Sam refused to acknowledge the physical reaction he had at the sound, or where on his body it happened. It didn’t happen. Nothing to see here.

“This is so pretty! It had to be done by hand given the time period and the attention to detail. A machine could never do this,” she explained while lightly dragging her index finger along the edge of the main inlay in the center of the desk. She didn’t even realize she was rambling because of the proximity to Sam. He was still bent at the waist next to her, leaning his one hand on the desk. If she just turned her head to her right, ever so slightly, their cheeks would touch.

The two rivals stood there, rooted in the spot, waiting to see who was going to blink first in this standoff. Sam did not want to acknowledge how the loose spiral of blonde hair in front of her ear was just barely touching his face. He didn’t want to acknowledge how his lips could brush that same ear if he turned to his left just so. The silence was deafening.

They were so distracted that they didn’t even hear one of the doors downstairs open and shut.

They didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs.

They didn’t-

“Natasha-fucking-Delaney,” a familiar and deep voice called warmly from the doorway. The sudden noise started them both and caused them to jump and spin around. Sam couldn’t even focus on the second sharp gasp that his house guest made so close to him. She had already taken off to envelope Danny in a hug. Sam stood there in front of that roll top desk, suddenly by himself.

For the first time since he was fourteen, Sam was disappointed at the sight of his best friend.

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#sam kiszka #sam kiszka x oc #rivals to lovers #dark academia #forced proximity #greta van fleet #sam gvf #emotional support werewolf #o pioneers #my fics #my writing

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strugglingwriterwattpad · 1 year

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walter deville teaser

In the magnificent ballroom of a majestic Tudor manor, a spellbinding scene unfolds. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a mysterious woman glided across the polished floor, her movements as graceful as a swan. The haunting melody that filled the air seemed to possess her, guiding her every step between each guest. In the depths of the shadows, a figure stood, his presence both alluring and enigmatic. His face remained concealed, adding an air of intrigue to his already captivating aura. Their eyes locked, two souls drawn together by an invisible force, and the world around them faded into insignificance.

As the music swelled, reaching its crescendo, the stranger took a bold step forward. His voice, filled with a whisper of longing, broke the silence, confessing a love that seems to transcend time itself. “you have no idea how much I love you, Miss Stoker.” The woman's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat, as she was swept away by the intensity of his words.

In the moment frozen in time, their lips finally met in a passionate kiss. It was a collision of desire and longing, a union of souls that defied explanation. But as their embrace deepened, a peculiar taste lingered on the woman's tongue, a metallic tang that sent a shiver down her spine. Suddenly, a surge of curiosity mixed with a hint of fear flooded her heart. The taste of blood upon his lips was unmistakable, a jarring contrast to the tender moment they shared. Questions swirled in her mind, like whispers in the wind. Who was this faceless man? “(Y/N)?” he whispered. “(Y/N)?”

With a sudden jolt, the woman catapulted out of her seat, causing Evie to quickly reach for her pills. "We've landed," Evie whispered, handing her boss a pill with a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it," she added, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead. "Oliver's waiting for us, let's go!" with a nod of her head (Y/N) slowly stood from her seat.

“So, who lives here again?” Evie asked as (Y/N) sat in the car, cruising along the secluded roads on the outskirts of Whitby, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The ever-changing weather, a characteristic she had missed dearly, played its whimsical game once again. One moment, the sky was a brilliant canvas of blue, devoid of any clouds, and the next, it transformed into a murky grey, with gusts of wind that seemed to dance through the air. “The De Ville family.” As they continued their journey, (Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the enchanting woodland that enveloped their family estate. It was as if nature had painted a masterpiece, with emerald green shades blending seamlessly into fern green's vibrant hues. The lushness of the trees and foliage created a mesmerizing tapestry, inviting her to explore its hidden secrets. “But our family will be staying the weekend for the festivities.”

“Holy shit. are they royalty or something?” as the manor came into view (Y/N) felt a sense of familiarity. Nestled amidst a sprawling landscape, stood an opulent white brick mansion exuding an aura of wealth and influence. Its majesty matched only by the pristine gardens that surrounded it, meticulously manicured to perfection. Every corner of the magnificent abode reflected the abundance of riches it houses, while the walls remained untouched by even the tiniest speck of dirt. “No, it's just old money. England's full of it.” the artist knew something felt strange about the manor. It felt like home to her, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or not.

“Welcome to New Carfax Abbey. Let me find our host.” As Oliver wandered off to find the owner (Y/N) also started to wander around the outside of the beautiful building. As she approached the entrance, the pillar carvings beckoned to her with an irresistible allure. Intricate and mesmerizing, they depicted a whimsical dance of enchanting forest creatures, each one brought to life in the bleached stone. These were no ordinary animals; they were the very same majestic beings she had encountered in her adventures. The sight filled her with an overwhelming sense of wonder and curiosity, igniting a fire within her. She yearned for the owner's permission to document every intricate detail, to capture the essence of this extraordinary building. Her excitement surged through her veins, as her mind raced with a flood of ideas, eager to be transformed into words on paper.

“I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend with me, Lord Deville,” Evie spoke pointing towards (Y/N) as she traced the pillar with her manicured nails. “(Y/N).” She called out but the girl seemed to ignore her. evie and the lord watched her closely, the rich gentleman listened to her breathing slow down as if slipping into a trance. “(Y/N)!” Evie called once again but still no reply. As the man gracefully approached the mesmerized woman, his presence seemed to cast a spell of intrigue. With a gentle touch, his large hand found its place on her shoulder, as if to guide her deeper into the enchanting world of his home. And there she stood, lost in a trance, her gaze fixated on the captivating artwork that adorned the brick. “miss are you alright.” His voice as smooth as milk snapped her from her brain her twinkling eyes locking with his stormy ones. The two matched their gaze smiling lightly at the sense of familiarity of each other.

“I'm sorry were you both calling me?” she stuttered looking towards Evie was an embarrassed look. “don’t worry (Y/N) your probably jet lagged.” She laughed picking up the poor girl's bag from the ground. “Walter, this is (Y/N). the artist I was telling you about.” The man now known as Walter stared back at (Y/N) his storm eyes now swapped with a flash of light of excitement. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stoker. I am a very big fan of your work. obviously.” The sun-kissed hue of his skin suddenly blushed with a fiery red, as if caught off guard by his own rambling. It was almost endearing to witness him in such a vulnerable state as if his emotions were laid bare for all to see. But there was no denying the transformative power of the new face that had entered his life, for it had swiftly altered his entire demeanour. “I'm glad you enjoyed them Mr Deville and thank you for the generous donation to the gallery I can assure you there are big plans for it.” his smile couldn’t get any bigger, but it did. The sound of her voice lulled his heart into a stuttering beat as if it had been out of service for many moons.

“come let me show you around the manor. I hope you like how I've displayed your art.” His cotton-covered arm poked out to her as an invitation to his home. She slowly slipped her arm into his feeling a familiar spark ignite in their touch. His smell was so calming and alluring sending her into a high, her doing the same to him. Walter held her small hand in a comfortable tightness not wanting her to slip from him again.

#fanfiction #xreader #walter deville #walter deville x reader #the invitation #vampire #horror films #romantichorror #thomas doherty #thomas doherty x reader #wattpadwriter #wattpad #coming soon #teaser

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 4 months

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The Other Evans Girl [Epilogue]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 7867

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Notes: I only cried three times writing this.

No but seriously I can't believe it's finished but I can believe I've talked myself into continuing it. I'll be doing oneshots following on like glimpses of Daisy's life following this up to well after the second war. Also I refuse to do my boy dirty so he's getting his happy ending lol

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Daisy didn’t know why she had come, what random force had tugged at her to leave her flat and apparate here but she had, forgoing the voice in her head that told her it wasn’t safe because the feeling in her gut was enough.

And she had been right.

Given the gargantuan manor James Potter had grown up in one would expect his own family home to be of a similar stature but following the passing of both his parents he’d found manors and mansions too empty and unfeeling and so he and his new bride had bought a quaint Tudor style house in Godric’s Hollow complete with a picturesque front garden for their future children to play in. Daisy remembered the first time she had clapped eyes on it, how beautiful and perfect she had thought it to be. She and Lily planned on barbecues in the back garden, an inherently muggle invention the boys were enthralled to get involved with. She thought of hot chocolates by the open fire in the living room on Christmas Eve with everyone sleeping over because no one dared miss Harry’s first holiday. She thought of the swing set she’d bought her nephew, still unopened somewhere in the shed because her sister had decreed him far too young to have it yet and that his godparents ought to know better. She thought of her home away from home. Only now it didn’t resemble the beautiful home she’d come to know. Now it lay in ruins, the front of the building eviscerated strewing rubble and debris over the manicured front lawn and with it she could smell something wretched. The pungent air of thick magic. The smell of death.

And just like that house in front of her she felt her world implode. She had known there was a reason for that feeling in her gut. She had known there was something tugging her forward but she had hoped she’d been wrong.

‘No,’ she whispered as reality started to settle in, ‘no, no, no! Lily! Lil!’

She started to run, barrelling towards the front gate as her mind chanted at her that it was going to be okay. Maybe they got out, maybe they’d been lucky and managed to escape, she reasoned. If anyone could, it'd be Lily. Her practical and perfect sister, she’d know what to do. She’d manage to escape.

She didn’t even check her surroundings as she’d been taught to, the need to get to her family all consuming, which was why she was startled as strong arms wrapped around her pulling her into the familiar scent of cigarettes and leather.

‘Dais,’ Sirius said hoarsely, ‘Dais you can’t.’ ‘Let me go! Lil!’ she shouted, fighting against her boyfriend as he struggled to keep hold of her. ‘Dais they’re gone,’ he whispered, finally grabbing her wrists and pulling him to face her. He looked awful, his normally happy features barren of life and his eyes red from crying, ‘they’re both gone.’ ‘No, they can’t be,’ she whispered as the tears started to build, wet and warm as they rolled down her cheeks. How could they be gone? How could her sister, her other half be gone?

‘How, I don’t understand,’ she said, her breath coming quicker and quicker though it felt as though she couldn’t breathe at all. The only other time she’d ever felt like this was when they’d lost their parents, as if someone had squeezed all the air out of her, all the life out of her. Sirius didn’t say anything and just pulled her into his chest, allowing her to sob as the information settled in.

None of it made sense. They were supposed to be safe; Dumbledore had promised her he would keep them safe. Hadn’t that been the reason for all the spells and enchantments? The lockdowns and restrictions? The secrecy? Hadn’t that been why they were living through hell? Stolen moments coming every few weeks, so far apart that whenever she saw her nephew he was half a size bigger or had some new development she didn’t even get to enjoy because it wasn’t safe for anyone to visit for long.

Harry.

Her poor sweet Harry. How could he be so young and yet the target for the most powerful wizard to ever live? How did he, at a great sum of fifteen months ever stand a chance? How could Voldemort ever think that power could be worth this.

How could she still hear his disgruntled cry, the one he got whenever Lily was more than a room away. Daisy was still buried deep in Sirius’ chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her but she pulled back, her snotty, red face confused at the noise. She’d been so consumed when she’d gotten here she hadn’t bothered to check the area but looking past Sirius she found his bike sitting not so far away and Hagrid standing beside it, his own face ruddy, but more importantly with a small tot nestled into his arm.

Harry Potter was alive.

And Daisy didn’t waste any time rushing to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. He had been on the verge of crying but upon seeing her he settled, clinging to her just as tightly as she did him, resting her cheek on his head as a fresh wave of tears flooded her. Yet these were of relief.

‘What happened,’ she said, finally getting a hold of herself to look at Hagrid and Sirius for answers, ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Don’t know,’ Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes dull, ‘I don’t understand how.’ ‘When I got here the house was like tha’ and James and Lily wer’,’ Hagrid started though a sob rumbled through him at the mention of their names. Sirius cleared his throat, somehow able to take over from the half-giant even though his loss was arguably more consuming. ‘He’s hurt. He’ll need to go to Dumbledore to be checked over to make sure he’s safe,’ Sirius said flatly, moving towards her and moving the thick mop of jet-black hair from Harry’s brow to reveal a thick gash on his forehead. It was obvious it had been cleared of blood but she could feel an aura radiating from it, it was a magical wound, that’s why they hadn’t healed it. Was this how he survived? The cost of living?

‘Right,’ Daisy mumbled. ‘Dais,’ Sirius said, tearing her eyes from the gash back to those flat grey eyes, ‘Voldemort’s gone but that doesn’t mean he is safe. He needs to go to Dumbledore.’ ‘Okay, yeah okay,’ Daisy said, her senses finally starting to make an appearance. Sirius was right. As broken as they were feeling they still had a job to do. Keep Harry safe. That had been what they’d been doing since the day he was born, what James and Lily had made them promise to do when he’d asked them to be godparents. ‘And you have to take him,’ Sirius said quietly. At that Daisy faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. He looked away, shifting under her scrutiny which didn’t reassure her at all. ‘What?’ was all she could ask. ‘You need to-’ ‘What about you?’ she asked, that pit she had felt in her stomach before she’d come returning only now it was a chasm. One that put a lump in her throat and made her head spin with worry. ‘I have to go,’ Sirius said flatly. ‘Go? Go where?!’ she demanded, wiping the tears that were returning as she tried to keep her mind focused. ‘Dais,’ he sighed, swallowing thickly. ‘You can’t just leave!’ she protested but he didn’t seem to be hearing her. Whatever was in his head taking over as he shut everything down.

‘Go with Hagrid, take Harry to Dumbledore. Take the bike,’ he said firmly though he still refused to look at her, his focus on Harry as he tucked a finger under the baby’s pudgy chin, earning a considerably gummy smile in return. Sirius smiled back weakly at his godson. ‘Pads,’ she whispered, unable to wrap her head around what was happening. ‘Look after him, yeah?’ he asked, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked at her. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, leaving like this, leaving her when he knew she needed him. He needed her too, like he always did, but there was something he had to do first, no matter the cost.

‘Sirius what are you talking-’ ‘Dais I love you,’ Sirius whispered, moving his hand to her cheek. The skin was wet against his hand but he didn’t care. After all he wasn’t sure the next time he’d feel the touch of her again, ‘no matter what happens I need you to know that.’ ‘Pads,’ she breathed shakily, panic mounting by the second. ‘And I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Sirius please,’ she begged, ‘you can’t go. You can’t leave me-’ ‘Remember that,’ he said leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Harry whined at the intrusion, reaching to grasp at Sirius’ necklace but he detached him, kissing his chubby hand before he pushed him away and moved out of their grip. ‘Sirius,’ Daisy said, attempting to follow but he pushed her away glancing at Hagrid to intervene. He was behind her in a couple steps, wrapping his large arm around her and Harry and stopping her from moving after him. Once they were anchored he turned around, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he walked away as if not being able to see her would stop them from coming. It was never going to work, not when he could still hear her pleading, ‘no! Hagrid let go! Let me, Sirius! Sirius, what are you doing, Hagrid please!’

And then he was gone, disapperating with a loud crack leaving the lane quiet and eerie. Only then did Hagrid let her go, watching her with a sad smile as she turned around unable to get a grip on what had just happened. Not that she had time to as Hagrid muttered, ‘he’s in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore that is. It’s a long way but ‘e’s right, the bike’s probably the safest way t’go.’

‘Right, yeah,’ Daisy mumbled numbly. ‘He’ll know what to do,’ Hagrid promised, gesturing for Daisy to hand Harry over so that she could climb into the sidecar of the motorbike. She went through the motions, settling into the seat though her mind was miles away. Not even when he handed Harry over did she snap out of it, millions of thoughts whizzing around in her brain. Thankfully she had plenty of time to think about them.

✵✵✵

The flight to Hogsmeade was a long and cold one because even though it was nightfall Hagrid stayed well up in the cloud to avoid being seen. And for the most part it was dark save for the glow of the waning moon and the glint of street lights as towns came and went below them. On a normal ride like the ones she and Sirius used to go on back when he’d first gotten the bike she’d be craning her neck to look at the colourful coast lines or vibrant dales as they passed by. When it was warm she’d stay in the side car but on cold nights like this she’d take to the back of the bike, wrapping herself around him, listening to the thud of his heart and the thrum of the engine, content as ever.

At this moment in time she wasn’t sure how she could ever have felt content. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever felt anything before, anything that wasn’t this dark rotting ache inside her. She couldn’t even say what it was. Sadness didn’t even seem to cover it; it didn’t feel like that held enough weight.

Because how could she describe the loss of James and Lily? She’d felt at a loss when her parents had died, the passing of Euphemia and Fleamont hurting just as much. When Marlene had been murdered, her entire family wiped off the face of the earth, she’d been distraught. Yet through all of those she’d managed to muddle through and keep going. Through those she’d had James and Lily.

She’d had James unrelenting optimism and kind-hearted reassurances.

James.

At the thought of him another silent sob rolled through her. Because how could he be gone? How could a light as bright and infectious as his be gone when that didn’t seem possible. Even in the midst of the mess that was this war he’d remained upbeat and relentlessly confident even as they failed to gain any positive movement. Even having to go into hiding had not ripped that positivity from him.

‘Because he thought they would be coming out of it,’ her mind whispered, bringing a fresh wave of tears. Of course. Of course he would have thought they’d make it. Of course he would have anticipated escaping the greatest wizard in the world unscathed. James Potter could do anything.

Or at least she had thought so. With that thought her mind wandered to what his last moments were like. Had he been scared? When the most evil wizard in existence had turned up at his front door had he wanted to run away? No, knowing James he would’ve faced him head on if it had meant protecting his family he wouldn’t have even flinched.

But did that mean Lily had known what was coming? Had she had to live through it, knowing that there was no stopping him? Had she been scared? Daisy couldn’t bear to think of it. She couldn't bear to think of her sister, her perfect, practical, poised sister floundering in panic. She couldn’t think of her not knowing what to do, fearing for her baby’s life the way she feared for her husband’s or her own.

Had she thought of her? Hoped that somehow Harry would survive, that Daisy wouldn’t be left with no one. Even if she was destined to live without her sister, her other half, she’d have a part of her. She’d have someone.

But that was the thing. Daisy was supposed to have someone. She was supposed to have Sirius, he was supposed to be here with her, navigating through this grief together. But he’d just left her behind and it didn’t make any sense. The only thing she could tell herself was that there must be a reason for it, some protocol or command of the order that he’d known about and had to uphold regardless of how hard it was. Because he wouldn’t leave her, not for good reason.

Not when she needed him.

And she did. Up here in the bitter winds and freezing temperatures she needed him more than ever. She needed him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay no matter how hollow it sounded. She needed him to tell her they’d survive this. They had to. For Harry.

He’d been quiet for most of the flight, wrapped in his baby blanket and the gargantuan scarf Hagrid had draped over them which acted more like a duvet than a garment, but as they passed into the Scottish highlands he’d disturbed, the frigid Scottish climate too cold for him to be comfortable. Now he was standing on her lap tugging on her hair to get her attention. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice him for a moment until after a particularly sharp tug upon which she broke, yanking it from his fist angrily snapping, ‘Harry stop it!’

At that his bright green eyes widened and his lip started trembling, threatening to unearth the mightiest of screams. Except Daisy wanted to scream too. She wanted to scream and shout and cry and sob and let everything inside her out. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t and she couldn’t snap at Harry because what good would it do? How was he to know the weight of the situation? All he knew was that he was somewhere foreign, cold and tired and miles away from his mummy and daddy. He didn’t know that he’d never see them again. He didn’t know that at that moment Daisy felt as though her world was caving in on itself.

He wanted fun auntie Daisy. The one who never yelled at him or told him off. The one that made James and Lily tear their hair out when she gave him sweets or bought him presents for no reason, yes even James ‘buy anything on a whim’ Potter. He wanted his uncle Padfoot who’d see the fat tears rolling down his cheeks and turn into his favourite furry friend. He wanted his dad to make him laugh or his mum to cuddle him, making him feel better instantly.

He wanted all the things Daisy wanted.

But they weren’t going to get it, ever again. All they had now was each other and he didn’t deserve to be shouted at.

‘Sorry munchkin,’ she cooed shakily, wiping the damp tracks of tears from her cheeks, ‘m’sorry I shouted. What’s the matter?’

Harry grumbled and nestled into her neck allowing her to wrap her arms around him. As he nestled whingily into her she realised he was still tired which was no surprise given the tumultuous night he’d been through. He was always needy after he awoke begging to be cuddled for a while until he felt ready to face being awake for good.

‘He’s probably ready for sumthin’ to eat,’ Hagrid said, the most he’d spoken the entire ride, ‘we’re not far now. ‘Bout half an hour or so.’ ‘Right,’ Daisy said, her voice cracking from the lack of use. Hagrid was probably right; the sky was growing lighter now even though the sun was nowhere to be seen given the lateness of the year. Then again in the Scottish highlands there wasn’t much chance of the sun showing up at all which was backed by how cold it still was though as Hagrid started to descend, dipping below the cloud barrier towards the small settlement of Hogsmeade, it grew slightly warmer.

Whether it was Hagrid’s heft or the hardness of the mud underneath them the bike hit the floor with a thud, making Harry fuss and Daisy to feel a disconnect between her neck and brain. Hagrid dismounted rather gracefully, offering a large hand out for the toddler whilst Daisy got herself straight. Once sorted she took him back, the pair of them feeling rather put out even if the separation was momentary. Only then did Daisy look around, finding herself down the long lane that passed through the village out to the lookout post of the shrieking shack. A memory of traipsing down here on a snowy winter’s day with James bubbled in her mind but she shook it away as well as the tears it brought and followed Hagrid’s direction to enter through a back door.

Daisy walked through it and found herself in an entryway, her only options to go through an old wooden door or up a narrow staircase and given she didn't know where she was she waited for Hagrid to duck through and lead the way. As he closed the door behind them, locking the fresh air out and trapping her in the scent of stale ale she realised she was in a pub. She was sure it wasn’t the Three Broomsticks, they were too far out of town, so she reckoned more than likely it was the Hog’s Head though why Dumbledore would be here she didn’t know.

Either way she didn’t care, following Hagrid up the rickety old staircase that moaned and protested under his weight as he climbed to too thin stairs. The room he led her to was a reasonable size but it appeared smaller due to the sheer amount of furniture that had been crammed inside it. An old couch and armchairs were nestled by the roaring fire and one half of the wall had been taken up by a small kitchenette, stocked with the bare necessities, but the majority of the room resembled an office, albeit a messy one. Yet however chaotic and unlike Dumbledore’s it was he still looked quite at home stationed behind the large desk.

By his side was a woman she’d only ever seen in the prophet. Milicent Bagnold a hard faced, unyielding woman with a permanent look of displeasure riddled upon her face. ‘She looks like she’s lost a galleon and found a knut,’ Sirius had said the day she was appointed Minister for Magic. She looked that way now, her beady eyes narrowing as Daisy walked in no doubt looking bedraggled as ever.

In contrast McGonagall, who was by Dumbledore’s other side, looked positively motherly with her face growing concerned and sad as she took in Daisy and Harry, who was watching them all curiously. She even moved to hug her, her bony hand on Daisy’s shoulder, but Dumbledore stopped her, rising from his seat and placing his hands on the desk before clearing his throat in warning as he said, ‘Minerva.’

McGonagall glanced at Daisy and then sighed, backing up and away from the pair of them leaving them standing in the middle of the room exposed to all. Dumbledore offered her a smile but it didn’t have the normal warmth to it, the matter too grave that not even he could instil hope in anyone. And to her surprise he didn’t offer her any words of comfort or hope instead he merely asked, ‘with whom did you share a dormitory with during your time at Hogwarts?’ ‘What?’ Daisy asked, the question coming from the left field though as he started to repeat himself she realised he was still following protocol. Even when Voldemort was dead. When her sister and James were dead. He was still acting to the letter as if it mattered. ‘Alice, Mar and Lil,’ she parroted robotically, finally earning herself a sympathetic smile though it only came from McGonagall. Dumbledore just shrugged and said, ‘sorry I had to ask. Hagrid, what is the name of your new puppy?’ ‘Fang Dumbledore sir,’ Hagrid replied, ‘what was the last thing the three of us spoke of?’ ‘James and Lily’s passing,’ Dumbledore replied.

Daisy fought the wave of tears that came at his words not that Hagrid fared as well, sniffling and wiping his still red eyes with the corner of his sleeve. In fact all she could think to say was, ‘you knew?’ ‘Ah,’ Dumbledore said, finally offering a sad smile, ‘word got to us early I’m afraid. That’s why I sent Hagrid.’ ‘We were hoping it was a false alarm,’ McGonagall added, ‘though I suspect-‘ ‘It’s not,’ Daisy said flatly. ‘Is he,’ Dumbledore said, gesturing to the toddler in her arms, his eyes still bright and inquisitive in this new environment. ‘He’s fine from what we can tell but well there’s this,’ Daisy said, pushing the mop of black hair from his brow so that the lightning shaped cut was visible to them. She hadn’t dared to look at it since Sirius had shown her, the queasy feeling it gave her returning at the sight of it. ‘Mmm,’ Dumbledore mused, not easing her queasy feeling. ‘What? What is it?’ she asked worriedly. ‘A curse,’ Dumbledore said evenly. ‘A curse?’ Daisy asked, instinctively brushing her hand across it. Harry giggled and grabbed hold of it, playing with the ring on her finger which she allowed him to do. She was just thankful he was content. ‘A rebound curse it looks like. From whatever Voldemort tried to do,’ Dumbledore clarified, his words earning a shiver from everyone but Daisy. Once recovered the minister took a step forward, a question on the tip of her tongue though all she asked was, ‘Dumbledore?’ ‘We know that the prophecy spoke of Harry being the one with the power to defeat Lord Voldemort, yes?’ Dumbledore asked, unable to hide his contempt for having to explain himself to the woman. The minister nodded, ‘well, what the Dark Lord may not have thought is that the power may always be in existence.’ ‘But he’s just a baby!’ McGonagall protested. ‘And he has just survived the most evil wizard in the history of our world. With only a mark to suggest otherwise,’ Dumbledore shrugged, ‘his scar by effect is proof of it.’

The room was quiet, contemplating how a mere child could possibly have stopped the greatest evil any of them had ever known when his parents and countless others before him hadn’t been able to. Daisy didn’t know what to think but all she knew was that she didn’t like the look in the minister’s eyes, fear and awe. Daisy shifted Harry in her arms, jostling him until his head was on her shoulder, facing away from them all. Dumbledore sensed the reservation in her and cleared his throat, distracting the woman as he said, ‘now of course he may have had help in the matter. From what I am told James and Lily lay down their lives which I can only imagine acted as protection.’ ‘Blood magic,’ McGonagall said gravely. ‘Yes Minerva,’ Dumbledore agreed, ‘blood magic. A deep protection, one of love.’ ‘Then you were right Dumbledore,’ the minister said firmly, ‘it must be them. Family is the way to go in this instance.’ ‘But Dumbledore must it be them?’ McGonagall sighed, ‘from what I’ve seen.’ ‘They are family Minerva,’ Dumbledore implored.

‘I’m sorry, what are you on about?’ Daisy asked, unable to find the thread of the conversation through all the waffle though the knot in her stomach told her something was amiss. They’d been deep in conversation, the three of them debating with one another but they looked up as she spoke as if they’d forgotten she was even there. ‘Harry must be protected,’ the minister said as though it were obvious. Daisy fought the urge to roll her eyes merely biting back through gritted teeth, ‘yes I know that.’ ‘And the blood magic in him will serve as added protection but our primary defence would be for him to live away from the wizarding world whilst everything is fresh and Voldemort’s followers are still at large,’ the minister explained, ‘which is why he should go and live with his aunt and uncle.’ ‘Right,’ Daisy agreed though as she looked at them, sharing awkward glances, that knot in her stomach grew, ‘wait you mean Petunia?!’

‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said with a sigh. ‘You cannot seriously want to send him to live with Petunia!’ Daisy said, her voice growing shriller which disturbed Harry even though she pressed on, ‘that is not happening!’ ‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said softly, ‘you’re young and grieving-’ ‘And?’ Daisy snapped, ‘if anything who better! We know what he’s lost. Petunia hasn’t even met him! She doesn’t even like James or wizards for that matter that’s why they wanted him to be with me, us, should anything happen. We’re his aunt and uncle.’ ‘You mean his godparents,’ the minister corrected. ‘Yes!’ Daisy said indignantly. ‘We’re supposed to trust him to you two,’ the minister asked, quirking a perfectly sculpted brow with a look of disdain. ‘Why wouldn’t you!’ Daisy shouted, ‘Sirius and I-’ ‘Sirius Black has just been apprehended for the murder of Peter Pettigew and twelve muggles,’ the minister challenged. Daisy faltered, the words not landing properly in her brain.

‘What?’ she asked, looking to McGonagall and Dumbledore for some clarification but they only offered looks of sadness. With a slight air of smugness the minister produced a copy of the daily prophet from her robes and dumped it on the table, front page out.

There, emblazoned on the front page was an article about the death of Lord Voldemort and the news of Harry, dubbing her nephew as ‘The Boy Who Lived’ but she turned over to the following page and there in front of her was a headline that made her heart stop.

BLACK HEIR TURNED MASS MURDERER

The photo underneath it was of a street where body bags and rubble littered the ground but she didn’t look at it, jumping straight to the article below it. She could feel eyes on her but she couldn’t make sense of the words, they wouldn’t sit right in her brain. ‘Mass murder’, ‘Death Eater’, ‘Peter Pettigrew’ were the only things that jumped out at her.

‘No,’ she whispered, whether to herself or them she wasn’t sure. But this had to be incorrect. Sirius was not a murderer, not to muggles, not to anyone. Not one of his best friends. A wave of grief, that admittedly was all too familiar in these past few hours, crashed through her again at the idea of losing Peter. How was this happening, they had to be wrong. They’d made a mistake they had to have, ‘no he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t-’ ‘He would if his master was dead,’ the minister countered. ‘What are you talking about?’ Daisy asked exhaustedly. ‘Daisy, did you not wonder how Voldemort managed to find James and Lily,’ Dumbledore said quietly. ‘Well there must’ve been a mole like we’ve suspected for weeks,’ Daisy started before a pointed look made the implication dawn on her. And just like she couldn’t accept that Sirius could be involved in murder she couldn’t believe what they were suggesting, ‘no, no, not Sirius. He wouldn’t do that to James-’ ‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said sadly. ‘He was his brother! He wouldn’t do that to him or Lil. He wouldn’t do that to Harry!’ she shouted, her voice echoing around the wooden walls. What she wanted to scream was that he wouldn’t do that to her. He would never betray her like that. James either. ‘Or he’s a master manipulator to have you fooled as you are,’ the minister said walking towards her as she eyed her menacingly, ‘or you’re with him.’ ‘What?’ Daisy breathed, her breath shaky from shouting and her arm starting to hurt where Harry had unsettled and started to fidget pulling at her hair for attention. The minister didn’t pay her notice, turning to look at the others, dismissing her as if she were a child in timeout, ‘you were right Dumbledore.’ ‘Albus please,’ McGonagall said, casting a look at Daisy before pleading with the headmaster who seemed to be contemplating. ‘She’s not to be trusted,’ the minister reiterated. ‘What?’ Daisy gasped, ‘how dare you!’

‘Oh look at you!’ the minister snapped, brushing the young girl aside as she carried on speaking to Dumbledore, ‘she’s a mess! Erratic and hot-headed just like you said. He is the most famous wizard in the world Dumbledore he needs to be safe-’ ‘He’s my nephew!’ Daisy shrieked. ‘And a murderer’s godson,’ the minister spat before she got a hold of herself and straightened up, apparently embarrassed at her loss of control as she decreed, ‘he must go to his other family Dumbledore surely you must agree?’ ‘You can’t,’ Daisy whispered, panic setting in, ‘you can’t give him to Petunia, he's never even met her!’ ‘But she’s a relative,’ Dumbledore countered. ‘I’m a relative!’ Daisy shrieked. ‘And a mentally unbalanced one by the looks of things!’ the minister sneered. ‘Dumbledore please think about this! Daisy has a point, hasn’t he lost enough? Harry should go to someone he knows. Someone he’s familiar with-’ ‘Why not give him to the murderer himself!’ the minister challenged, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You know that is not the same!’ McGonagall said shrilly, ‘didn’t you see her? She looked just as blindsided as the rest of us by the news of Si-, of him.’ ‘And we’re supposed to trust her word for it?’ the minister asked. ‘I do not believe he had any other associates minister,’ Dumbledore said calmly.

But Daisy didn’t care. She wasn’t focused on who had done what or betrayed who. All she was thinking about was the idea of Harry being ripped from her, forced to spend his days with Petunia. McGonagall was right hadn’t Harry lost enough? Hadn’t she lost enough?

Her mind was still reeling from losing James and Lily but now Peter too. And Sirius.

No, no, no, it couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have been behind this there must be another explanation. Her Sirius couldn’t be a murderer. The boy who had been smart enough to flee the dark wizards at fifteen couldn’t fall in line with them now at the age of twenty-one. He hated them more than anyone. He wouldn’t have betrayed his family for them. And they were family. He had promised her that.

He wouldn’t have done that to her. And if he had she would’ve known right? She would’ve seen it coming, right?

They lived together, climbed into the same bed every night, and spoke every day. Sure as the war had plodded on it had been tense. As restrictions and protocols had been implemented restricting what they could and could not speak of in their own home their conversations had become superficial and few. But she would’ve known right? After all they’d all suspected a traitor in their midst but she would’ve spotted him if he was underneath her nose, wouldn’t she?

As she’d been dwelling on it she hadn't realised she had been backing up away from the arguing and chaos of it all until she felt the cool metal of a door knob nestled in her back. At the clunk the group looked at her but she didn’t think, fleeing through it and slamming it closed, locking it quickly behind her. She heard them rush towards her but she didn’t care not even when the minister called, ‘if you think you’re helping the matter you’re sorely mistaken missy!’

Daisy didn’t pay the old hag any attention. She wasn’t trying to flee. She wasn’t even trying to hide. She just wanted a moment to herself. A moment away from all the worry and accusations. A moment to regroup. To make sense of it all.

But it was something she couldn’t make sense of and so she didn’t bother and instead sank to the floor, allowing the tears to pour from her. Harry seemed concerned about his blubbering auntie but when his attempts to make her feel better by pressing sloppy kisses to her damp cheeks didn’t improve the situation he gave up, opting to nestle into her as she wept.

She didn’t know how long she spent crying on the floor of that bedroom. In fact she was surprised Harry hadn’t started to fuss after a while but when she glanced down she found him asleep, thoroughly exhausted. He didn’t even disturb as the door unlatched and creaked open. Daisy didn’t fight it. She wasn’t sure she had much fight left in her truth be told. Instead she allowed McGonagall to enter and watched as she sat herself down on the floor beside her, albeit rather ungracefully as she landed with an ‘oomph.’

They were quiet for a moment both staring at the now closed door, the only thing to be heard was a gentle sniffle from the blonde.

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said after a beat. ‘He wouldn’t,’ Daisy whispered, more for herself than anyone else, ‘he wouldn’t do this I know he wouldn’t.’ ‘I know,’ McGonagall said softly. Daisy turned to look at her with surprise. McGonagall sighed, ‘I know he wouldn’t and I don’t want to believe it either trust me. But there is no other explanation. After all he was their secret keeper wasn’t he?’ ‘Yes but they,’ Daisy started but McGonagall placed a hand on her knee to silence her. ‘Daisy you can keep believing it and if you truly think Sirius is innocent then who am I to tell you not to,’ McGonagall reasoned, her lined face growing more sombre as she said, ‘but Harry needs you.’ ‘I know,’ Daisy whispered. ‘I have watched your sister Daisy and I do not like what I saw. He needs you. He needs a connection to our kind even if he’s kept away from all of this,’ she said gesturing to nothing, ‘but Dumbledore needs to be able to trust you and right now he is struggling.’ ‘How can I make him trust me?’ Daisy asked. ‘You need to decide what you want more. Harry or your loyalty to someone who may very well have betrayed you,’ McGonagall said, reaching out and moving a limp strand of hair from Daisy’s face, a sad smile on her lips as she said, ‘I know it’s hard to believe we can be taken for fools but it is not impossible.’

And with that she climbed up, groaning as her bones protested, before scuttling from the room.

That was the question.

Did she believe Sirius could have betrayed them? No, but why? Because she loved him? Because he told her he loved her? Did that mean anything when it came down to it? All her life she had been the emotional twin. The volatile one. She’d always allowed emotions and feelings to cloud her judgment but where had that gotten her. More importantly it wasn’t just her she had to think of, it was Harry. At that she wondered what Lily would think. Lily would look at the facts.

James would tell her there was no way this could be true but not her Lil. She’d believe it all unless the cold hard evidence pointed another way and right now it looked like it did. He was their secret keeper after all. He had been seen murdering twelve muggles in broad daylight. He’d murdered their friend.

‘Blown to smithereens,’ had been the phrasing in the prophet and with that a new wave of nausea hit and she lurched forward knocking Harry off her knee as she attempted to reach the bin but missed spewing the watery remnants of stomach acid onto the wooden floor. With a flourish of her wand she cleaned it up and then stood, scooping a disgruntled Harry from the floor before she headed out back into the room.

The minister was gone now and McGonagall, Dumbledore and Hagrid had all taken to sitting around the fire though admittedly Hagrid looked as if the chair he was sitting in had sprouted out of him rather than him sitting in it. Daisy sighed and settled into the only empty armchair passing Harry to McGonagall on her way so that they might both have some respite.

She couldn’t be focused on him at this moment in time. She was playing ball.

‘I’m glad you could finally join us,’ Dumbledore said as though she’d only just gotten there and had not been squirrelled away for god knows how long, ‘tea?’ ‘No thanks,’ Daisy said, the acrid taste of vomit still in her mouth. From beside her McGonagall conjured a baby bottle and tested the warmth of the milk on her wrist before offering it to Harry who took it happily, nestling back into the older witch as he drank. Daisy debated taking it off him. After all the sun was rising through the window which meant he’d be due a proper breakfast then again she realised there wasn't much point in doing so. It wasn’t as though he was sticking to the militant regime Lily had been implementing recently to improve his sleeping and eating. Fed was fed at this point. Not to mention she could get him back on track when they were settled somewhere but to do that she’d need to play the game, toe the line and make Dumbledore think she was ready to become his guardian.

And so with the taste of bile growing stronger in her mouth she said, ‘I’m sorry about all that. I know what you must think but well my entire life just sort of imploded in one night.’ ‘It’s understandable,’ Dumbledore said, ‘quite a shock for us all.’ ‘I just can’t believe,’ she was going to say ‘that he did it’ but she could feel their eyes heavy on her and defaulted to, ‘that I could be so blind.’ ‘Spies are good at what they do, Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that’s why they’re spies.’ ‘Had us all fooled the nasty lil toerag,’ Hagrid grunted. Daisy had to will herself not to flinch. ‘Either way the matter is being dealt with,’ Dumbledore said diplomatically. At that her ears pricked up her words coming before she thought, ‘how exactly?’ ‘Azkaban,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Right,’ she said, forcing the lump in her throat down as all the tales and anecdotes she’d heard about the brutality of the place rushed to the forefront of her mind. ‘Cut and dry I’m afraid, which means he’ll be there by nightfall and more importantly away from Harry,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Yeah, right,’ Daisy mumbled, trying to push the idea of shackles and dementors from her mind. ‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, capturing her attention once more. His tone was serious now. This was the crux of the matter and he was scrutinising her every move to make sure her answers aligned with what he needed to hear. Daisy straightened up, pushing her shoulders down as she tried to keep her breathing level. Dumbledore continued, ‘I know what the minister may think but I can assure you I do not see this matter the same way. I believe in your innocence.’ ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. She wanted to scream that he had no reason not to, that she was innocent, but she didn't bother. Now was not the time for charging in without thought. ‘But that doesn’t mean I am sure about what should happen with regards to Harry. Voldemort may be gone but his followers live on. And like the actions of Sirius Black we cannot know what they might do now they are without a leader,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that is why I thought your sister to be a good fit. Not because of doubt for yourself but because by the very essence of being a muggle she has more protection than anyone. Blood magic may very well protect the boy but a muggle world is a buffer to everything.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Daisy asked, confused. ‘I do not wish to rip Harry from what he knows any more than you do. I understand that you are a big part of his life but his life as it is cannot continue,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I don’t understand,’ Daisy said. ‘Harry needs to be raised away from our world. As a muggle,’ Dumbledore said flatly. ‘What?’ Daisy gasped. ‘He needs to be raised away from-’ ‘Magic! You want to deprive him of magic!’ Daisy baulked recalling her own mundane muggle upbringing, the childhood that had felt as though it was in black and white until the age of eleven when magic had turned everything technicolour. ‘I want to keep him from other wizards,’ Dumbledore corrected, ‘he is vulnerable.’ ‘And how is leaving him without magic protecting him?’ Daisy asked. ‘He won't be without magic. He’ll have you. Of course you would have to play the part of a muggle, pretend so to speak, but in time he will learn the truth. He will come to Hogwarts as you and his parents did. He will be a magnificent wizard Daisy,’ Dumbledore assured, ‘but for now the wizarding world is no place for him. He’ll be left to be a legend in his own right without having to live as one under everyone’s scrutiny.’

Daisy thought about it for a moment. She could see their point. Her barely two-year-old nephew had just taken down the most evil wizard in history that wasn’t exactly something people would get over in a hurry. Whether good or bad. If they stayed in the wizarding world they’d be just as isolated anyway, confined by prying eyes and ears. To live as a muggle would keep him safe and free.

But to deprive him of magic?

To lie to him until he was of an age to understand it all felt wrong. It was depriving him a piece of himself. The true memory of his parents. Not to mention depriving herself of it. How could she speak of James and Lily in earnest with so many lies nestled in between to make everything sound normal.

Then again what choice would she have. To deny Dumbledore would only end up with him being shipped off to Petunia’s with him being forced to live this life anyway only without the benefit of her beside him. It was a lose-lose situation.

‘So what do we do?’ Daisy asked, earning a kind smile in return as Dumbledore rose from his seat, smoothing out his dark purple robes for a moment. ‘For now stay here,’ he said, ‘I’ll have a room set up for you whilst we make arrangements.’ ‘He can stay with me?’ she asked, though as Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles eyeing her closely she panicked that she’d asked the wrong thing. ‘Do you promise to fulfil your end of this agreement?’ he asked. ‘I promise,’ Daisy nodded. ‘Excellent,’ he smiled as though he’d just agreed for the Hogwarts house elves to make apple crumble instead of jam roly-poly for dessert and not a life changing decision, ‘Minerva if you could speak to Aberforth regarding a room and then if you could acquire some provisions for them both.’ ‘Yes Dumbledore,’ McGonagall said, slipping Harry off her lap and onto Daisy’s in such a fluid motion that he didn’t even disturb and instead kept guzzling away at his bottle which was near done. ‘Hagrid come with me,’ Dumbledore said, pressing his hand to the man’s shoulder, ‘I have things for you to do whilst I’m with the minister.’ ‘Right you are Dumbledore,’ Hagrid said, pulling himself from the chair and heading out the door McGonagall had just headed through.

Once it was just her and Dumbledore alone he smiled at her and nodded before saying, ‘I know this isn’t easy Miss Evans. But I must ask you to trust in me.’

And with that he flounced from the room, closing the door behind him gently. Daisy flopped back exhausted, finally closing her eyes for the first time since last night. None of it seemed real.

James. Lily. Voldemort. Peter. Sirius. Azkaban. Death. Harry.

Everything bounced around in her brain in a jumble of pain and sorrow but as she heard the teet of the bottle detaching and felt it fall into her lap she looked to find Harry watching her, his hand now done holding the bottle and instead holding her necklace.

Her Daisy chain that she’d worn every day since it had been bought for her.

A reminder of the now tainted memories it held. Without thinking she yanked at it, snapping the clasp apart and taking it from the boy's hand. He allowed her to, watching as she slipped it into her back pocket unsure of what to do with it just yet.

‘Just you and me eh?’ she asked, taking his hand in hers and kissing it, ‘just you and auntie Dais.’

Harry gurgled and smiled gummily at her.

‘Merlin help us both eh?’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy @maeisafangirl

#my writing #harry potter #sirius black fic #sirius black x ofc #marauders #marauders fic #sirius black x daisy evans #the other evans girl #the marauders #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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