Shades of Black: Part II
Title: Shades of Black
Rating: PG / PG-13
Length: Chaptered (Short Story Collection), WIP
Pairings: James/Lily, Sirius/Lily, Sirius/OC
Era: Multiple Eras (mainly Marauder Era and Vold-War I)
Summary: A late night storm, nightmares, and a conversation between a young boy and his father.
Awards: An edited version of this part received Third Place in the "May (2007) Monthly Drabble Challenge" on the MNFF forums, in which the topic was 'Orion Black'.
~*~
A full moon shone brightly through the open window of a tall building in London. Its white light fell upon a young child who, judging by his small form, could not have been older than four years old. The little boy was in his bed, tossing and turning and evidently plagued by horrible nightmares; the blankets wrapped themselves tightly around him as he moved. With a sudden jerk, the boy woke up, sitting up in his bed and pulling the blankets closer to him.
Everything was quiet in the spacious room, for there was not even a clock to tick nor a portrait’s occupant to talk to. Long curtains hung to each side of the tall window, a chandelier stocked with unlit candles could be seen on the ceiling, and a wooden wardrobe stood against the far left wall, the doors closed and keeping the contents from view. The intense silence of the boy’s bedroom made his fear intensify, as the memory of the nightmares was still fresh in his mind.
A dog’s loud bark came suddenly from outside. The noise caused the boy to jump and, forgetting about what his mother had told him about staying in his room, he got up and crept across to the door, entering the long corridor outside of his bedroom as quietly as he could. His younger brother’s room was just across from him, and his parents slept on the second level of the house. Glancing at his brother’s door, he sighed upon seeing it was shut - not that he had expected anything different - and he walked down the staircase leading to the next level. But he bypassed his parents’ room and continued walking.
The young boy turned left and headed towards the top of the stairs that descended to the first floor and main room of the house. Pausing for a moment, he listened to the people below. He could hear the voices of his parents’ guests as they floated up the stairs. There were high-pitched voices coming from several women, and a few low, gruff tones issuing from what the boy assumed to be their husbands (and possibly associates of his father). A high laugh sounded, and the boy gave a slight shudder as he recognised the voice of his aunt. He crept back into the shadows a bit more; he would be in trouble if she caught him out of bed tonight - his aunt would be sure to tell his mother - but he did not retreat back into his bedroom regardless.
Suddenly, a door to his right swung open.
“Sirius?” a voice said, and the boy, gasping slightly in shock at first, turned slowly around, his eyes meeting those of the tall, proud figure in front of him. Orion Black had thick, jet black hair and steel-coloured eyes - both qualities of which were mirrored in his son. “What are you doing out of bed, son?” he asked.
Sirius Black did not immediately respond to his father with an answer. Rather, still looking directly at the older man, he asked a question of his own.
“Is Mother with you?” His voice was quiet.
Orion sighed, now knowing the reason why his son was awake. “Another nightmare?” he asked, and as Sirius nodded in reply, Orion stepped back out of the doorway and motioned for his son to follow him into the room. When Sirius hesitated, his father responded in a gentle voice, saying, “Your mother is still downstairs, Sirius.” The young boy trailed behind his father into the room, his eyes barely roaming over the many book-filled shelves lining the dark walls or the ornately carved mahogany desk that his father would sit at for hours while he worked; he did not marvel at the ancient artefacts that dotted the walls and other cabinets, nor did he pay attention to the numerous portraits of ancestors that could be seen. Rather, he simply followed his father to the leather sofa that stood before a great stone fireplace, in whose grate a fire was already crackling, and sat next to the elder wizard.
“What happened in the dream, Sirius?” Orion asked, pulling his four-year-old son into his lap. “What was it?” Sirius laid his head on his father’s chest and mumbled out a reply.
“Monsters,” he said quietly.
“But you know, Sirius,” said Orion, attempting to bring his son’s face up so that their eyes could meet. But such was a lost cause, as Sirius brought his head back to his father’s chest the moment that Orion’s hand had released him. “You have no need to be afraid of the monsters; they cannot hurt you.” The only reply to Mr. Black’s words was the continued crackling of the orange flames in the fireplace. “There are not any monsters around here, and besides, you’re more powerful than they are, Sirius.”
“Not in the dream,” the young boy whispered, most of the words getting lost in Orion’s robes. “In the dream, the monsters won, and they got me and Regulus.”
Orion wrapped his arms around his son and whispered into his ear. “It was just a dream, Sirius,” he said. “That is all it was. I promise that the monsters cannot get either you or Regulus here.” When Sirius made a motion as to respond to his father, Orion continued. “Do you remember the stories that I told you the last time you woke up? The last time you had a nightmare about the monsters?” Sirius nodded, his eyes meeting their reflection as he finally looked up at his father, though his slight biting of his lip still gave away his fear.
“Yes,” he said.
“The stories about the powerful wizards of the ancient empires who chased all of the cruel and evil monsters from their lands, saving all of the people in the villages? And how they were honoured and praised for the courage and bravery that they showed in facing the dark creatures that no one had ever dared to approach? And that their names have been documented through countless histories and families since that time, many, many centuries ago?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember some of their names, Sirius?” Orion asked his son, who buried his head back onto his father’s chest before replying.
“Alexander was one,” said Sirius, “and Rafael, and ...”
“And ‘Sirius’ was another of those wizards,” finished Orion. His young son glanced back up at his father’s words, his eyes wide. “That’s right, son. Your name is the same as one of those powerful wizards, and it is also the name of the brightest star in the night sky. Remember?”
“I know.”
“So you see, son,” whispered Orion, “you have nothing to worry about with the monsters. They fear you, Sirius; you’re a Black, after all - one of the greatest Wizarding families in the world - and the monsters know that. They know that you belong to such a powerful family and heritage, and that you are far greater than they could ever hope to be; the monsters know that you are much stronger than they are.”
No small voice responded to the elder Black’s statement; the only sounds were those of the fire’s flames crackling in the grate and that of slow breathing. “Sirius?” muttered Orion, and upon getting no reply, he looked down at his son.
Sirius’s eyes remained tightly shut, his black-haired head lying against the strong chest of his father, and his chest rising and falling ever so slowly with his calm and peaceful breathing as he slept. His face, too, was relaxed, and it showed no more the fear that had been upon it when he first left his room and entered his father’s study.
A small smile came across Orion’s face as he stared at the sleeping child on his lap, at his son whom he knew would one day grow to become a great wizard. Orion had known such a fact since the very day that Sirius was born; he had known the heir to the Black family would carve a place for himself in the history of the Wizarding World. He is already strong, the elder wizard thought. But stronger still he will become. A father always knew such things about his son, after all.
“You will be great, Sirius,” he whispered. And, careful not to disturb the young boy, he rose from his seat and left the study, carrying Sirius back to his bedroom.
~*~
That's the end of that.
~Megan
Rating: PG / PG-13
Length: Chaptered (Short Story Collection), WIP
Pairings: James/Lily, Sirius/Lily, Sirius/OC
Era: Multiple Eras (mainly Marauder Era and Vold-War I)
Summary: A late night storm, nightmares, and a conversation between a young boy and his father.
Awards: An edited version of this part received Third Place in the "May (2007) Monthly Drabble Challenge" on the MNFF forums, in which the topic was 'Orion Black'.
~*~
A full moon shone brightly through the open window of a tall building in London. Its white light fell upon a young child who, judging by his small form, could not have been older than four years old. The little boy was in his bed, tossing and turning and evidently plagued by horrible nightmares; the blankets wrapped themselves tightly around him as he moved. With a sudden jerk, the boy woke up, sitting up in his bed and pulling the blankets closer to him.
Everything was quiet in the spacious room, for there was not even a clock to tick nor a portrait’s occupant to talk to. Long curtains hung to each side of the tall window, a chandelier stocked with unlit candles could be seen on the ceiling, and a wooden wardrobe stood against the far left wall, the doors closed and keeping the contents from view. The intense silence of the boy’s bedroom made his fear intensify, as the memory of the nightmares was still fresh in his mind.
A dog’s loud bark came suddenly from outside. The noise caused the boy to jump and, forgetting about what his mother had told him about staying in his room, he got up and crept across to the door, entering the long corridor outside of his bedroom as quietly as he could. His younger brother’s room was just across from him, and his parents slept on the second level of the house. Glancing at his brother’s door, he sighed upon seeing it was shut - not that he had expected anything different - and he walked down the staircase leading to the next level. But he bypassed his parents’ room and continued walking.
The young boy turned left and headed towards the top of the stairs that descended to the first floor and main room of the house. Pausing for a moment, he listened to the people below. He could hear the voices of his parents’ guests as they floated up the stairs. There were high-pitched voices coming from several women, and a few low, gruff tones issuing from what the boy assumed to be their husbands (and possibly associates of his father). A high laugh sounded, and the boy gave a slight shudder as he recognised the voice of his aunt. He crept back into the shadows a bit more; he would be in trouble if she caught him out of bed tonight - his aunt would be sure to tell his mother - but he did not retreat back into his bedroom regardless.
Suddenly, a door to his right swung open.
“Sirius?” a voice said, and the boy, gasping slightly in shock at first, turned slowly around, his eyes meeting those of the tall, proud figure in front of him. Orion Black had thick, jet black hair and steel-coloured eyes - both qualities of which were mirrored in his son. “What are you doing out of bed, son?” he asked.
Sirius Black did not immediately respond to his father with an answer. Rather, still looking directly at the older man, he asked a question of his own.
“Is Mother with you?” His voice was quiet.
Orion sighed, now knowing the reason why his son was awake. “Another nightmare?” he asked, and as Sirius nodded in reply, Orion stepped back out of the doorway and motioned for his son to follow him into the room. When Sirius hesitated, his father responded in a gentle voice, saying, “Your mother is still downstairs, Sirius.” The young boy trailed behind his father into the room, his eyes barely roaming over the many book-filled shelves lining the dark walls or the ornately carved mahogany desk that his father would sit at for hours while he worked; he did not marvel at the ancient artefacts that dotted the walls and other cabinets, nor did he pay attention to the numerous portraits of ancestors that could be seen. Rather, he simply followed his father to the leather sofa that stood before a great stone fireplace, in whose grate a fire was already crackling, and sat next to the elder wizard.
“What happened in the dream, Sirius?” Orion asked, pulling his four-year-old son into his lap. “What was it?” Sirius laid his head on his father’s chest and mumbled out a reply.
“Monsters,” he said quietly.
“But you know, Sirius,” said Orion, attempting to bring his son’s face up so that their eyes could meet. But such was a lost cause, as Sirius brought his head back to his father’s chest the moment that Orion’s hand had released him. “You have no need to be afraid of the monsters; they cannot hurt you.” The only reply to Mr. Black’s words was the continued crackling of the orange flames in the fireplace. “There are not any monsters around here, and besides, you’re more powerful than they are, Sirius.”
“Not in the dream,” the young boy whispered, most of the words getting lost in Orion’s robes. “In the dream, the monsters won, and they got me and Regulus.”
Orion wrapped his arms around his son and whispered into his ear. “It was just a dream, Sirius,” he said. “That is all it was. I promise that the monsters cannot get either you or Regulus here.” When Sirius made a motion as to respond to his father, Orion continued. “Do you remember the stories that I told you the last time you woke up? The last time you had a nightmare about the monsters?” Sirius nodded, his eyes meeting their reflection as he finally looked up at his father, though his slight biting of his lip still gave away his fear.
“Yes,” he said.
“The stories about the powerful wizards of the ancient empires who chased all of the cruel and evil monsters from their lands, saving all of the people in the villages? And how they were honoured and praised for the courage and bravery that they showed in facing the dark creatures that no one had ever dared to approach? And that their names have been documented through countless histories and families since that time, many, many centuries ago?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember some of their names, Sirius?” Orion asked his son, who buried his head back onto his father’s chest before replying.
“Alexander was one,” said Sirius, “and Rafael, and ...”
“And ‘Sirius’ was another of those wizards,” finished Orion. His young son glanced back up at his father’s words, his eyes wide. “That’s right, son. Your name is the same as one of those powerful wizards, and it is also the name of the brightest star in the night sky. Remember?”
“I know.”
“So you see, son,” whispered Orion, “you have nothing to worry about with the monsters. They fear you, Sirius; you’re a Black, after all - one of the greatest Wizarding families in the world - and the monsters know that. They know that you belong to such a powerful family and heritage, and that you are far greater than they could ever hope to be; the monsters know that you are much stronger than they are.”
No small voice responded to the elder Black’s statement; the only sounds were those of the fire’s flames crackling in the grate and that of slow breathing. “Sirius?” muttered Orion, and upon getting no reply, he looked down at his son.
Sirius’s eyes remained tightly shut, his black-haired head lying against the strong chest of his father, and his chest rising and falling ever so slowly with his calm and peaceful breathing as he slept. His face, too, was relaxed, and it showed no more the fear that had been upon it when he first left his room and entered his father’s study.
A small smile came across Orion’s face as he stared at the sleeping child on his lap, at his son whom he knew would one day grow to become a great wizard. Orion had known such a fact since the very day that Sirius was born; he had known the heir to the Black family would carve a place for himself in the history of the Wizarding World. He is already strong, the elder wizard thought. But stronger still he will become. A father always knew such things about his son, after all.
“You will be great, Sirius,” he whispered. And, careful not to disturb the young boy, he rose from his seat and left the study, carrying Sirius back to his bedroom.
~*~
That's the end of that.
~Megan