Alignments Outtake: A House Divided Against Itself
Title: A House Divided Against Itself
Word Count: 2800
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Eileen Prince, Sirius Black, and Orion Black
Summary: Orion Black wants to see his son one last time.
For melandry, who wrote a lovely story about messages and messengers during wellymuck. And, yes, cat!McGonagall's appearance is for you, too.
Filling you in: These scenes take place in early 1979. Sirius is working for Minerva McGonagall and the Order of the Phoenix. Eileen Prince is a friend of McGonagall and an occasional member of the Order with close ties to family on the other side of the conflict.
*
They were sitting in Eileen’s chilly front room one evening, Minerva reading the paper, Eileen idly stoking the dying fire.
“I saw Lucretia today,” Eileen said suddenly.
Minerva took that for the opening it was. “What does she want?” she asked, yawning, her eyes continuing to skim the page. Eileen’s cousin always wanted something.
Eileen sighed. “Hear me out?”
“Perhaps.” Minerva was still following the story of the latest Death Eater attack.
“She wants you to talk to Sirius. Orion Black wants to see his son one last time.”
The newspaper came down, politics forgotten for the moment. Minerva frowned and looked at Eileen suspiciously.
“Doesn’t the boy get owl post like the rest of us? Can’t he reach him that way?”
Eileen did not quite meet her eyes. “Apparently he hasn’t responded to owl post.”
Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Well, then, he must not want to hear from him. I wouldn’t reply to Orion Black’s letters, either.”
Eileen tried again. “Please, Minerva. Lucretia asked me to ask you. She says it’s urgent.”
“Why me?” Minerva asked.
“Because you see him regularly,” Eileen said too reasonably.
“So does Albus,” Minerva pointed out. “So does--”
“Because you might be able to convince him.” Eileen interrupted. “Where someone else couldn’t.”
“It’s really not my concern,” Minerva said, her voice less brisk than before.
“That’s not true,” Eileen responded softly. “Sirius is your concern, after all these years. I’m your concern.”
“Lucretia’s not my concern when I can help it, and Orion Black is never my concern.” Minerva snorted.
“He would be if he wanted one last meeting with his son,” Eileen said. Her statement hung in the air between them.
“So Orion thinks he’s dying?” Minerva asked tartly. “Black histrionics, if you ask me. He’ll survive all of us.”
Eileen smiled. “Or Black paranoia, perhaps.” She looked into the fire. “Though perhaps not, if you think about what Regulus has been up to lately. I don’t see a good end to this.”
Minerva did not reply.
“Minerva?” Eileen prompted.
Minerva frowned. “Fine. I’ll ask.”
Eileen rose from her chair, leaned over, cupped Minerva’s cheek with her hand, and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you.”
Minerva touched her hand lightly with her fingertips. “The things I do for you, Eileen.”
“Not just for me,” Eileen said, but Minerva’s fingers were soft and warm against her own, and she did not press the matter any further.
*
Sirius was leaving Order headquarters the next evening just as Minerva arrived. That awful Muggle jacket was slung over his shoulder, and he was smiling, a rare, broad, easy smile that Minerva loved to see.
“Minerva,” Sirius said. “Glad I caught you. Plans tonight, not staying late if that’s fine with you. I left reports for you on the desk. Can we meet in the morning?”
Minerva nodded and cleared her throat. “Sirius, I have a personal message for you,” she said.
Sirius, already halfway out the door, stopped, his smile fading slowly. “You do? Nothing wrong, is there?”
“Your father wants to see you again,” she said, her tone as neutral as she could make it.
Sirius frowned. “I doubt it. What makes you think so?”
Minerva paused. “Your Aunt Lucretia asked me to pass this message along to you. She said…” Minerva paused again. Damn Eileen for asking her to interfere. “She said that he wanted to see you one final time.”
She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected Sirius to say, but the ugly expression that crossed Sirius’ face surprised her.
“Bastard,” Sirius spat.
Minerva drew her breath. “Sirius!” she said, her tone stern. “You will not speak about your father like that in front of me!”
Sirius winced but did not apologize.
Minerva pursed her lips. “Look, I have no opinion as to what you should do, but Lucretia will ask what you said. What should she tell him?”
“Tell him I said he can go to hell,” Sirius said, and then he turned and left. Minerva could hear the angry sputter of the motorbike engine as he drove off.
*
Two nights later they were in Minerva’s rooms at Hogwarts. Eileen was standing on a chair, rearranging the books on the sitting room bookshelves while Minerva marked essays at the table.
“Experimental potions?” Eileen asked, glancing at the book in her hand.
“Top shelf, on the right,” Minerva said absently.
Eileen ran a hand over the dusty gilt cover and opened it curiously. She laughed. “Minerva, this is seven years overdue from the Restricted Section.”
“What Madam Pince doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Minerva replied primly, her eyes twinkling.
Eileen placed the book on the top shelf on the right. “I don’t like Lucretia much, either, you know,” she said suddenly.
“Not again,” Minerva said, setting her quill down and pushing the essays away from her. “Really, Eileen. I told you how Sirius reacted.”
“She cornered me today at the Prewetts’.”
Minerva snorted. “That sounds like her.”
“She wants you to go to Grimmauld Place to pick up a message from Orion.”
“Absolutely not,” Minerva said, determined to put a stop to this madness before it got started. “Why would I ever go there? Apart from being unnecessary and inappropriate, it’s probably quite dangerous. Who know who’s staying there these days? Sirius already said he didn’t want any further contact. He may be a sulky child about this, but we have to respect his wishes.”
“True,” Eileen replied.
Minerva looked at her suspiciously.
“Don’t look at me like that, Minerva; I’m agreeing with you,” Eileen said. “I’m not eager to see you go there, either.
Eileen climbed down off the chair, stepped over the pile of books on the floor, and joined Minerva at the table, taking her hand in her own and leaning towards her.
“It’s just this: Lucretia thinks Orion may want to reconcile.”
“Lucretia is a busybody who has no right to pass that message on to you.”
“You’re right,” Eileen said. “But don’t you want to pass the message along anyway? This separation between father and son, it’s not right.”
“I never knew what happened between them,” Minerva said. “I felt it wasn’t my place to ask. He was so unhappy for so long. He’s just now acting like his old self again. All sly smiles behind my back.”
“Young love,” Eileen said with a crooked, knowing smile.
Minerva started. “I don’t think so,” she said. “At least, he’s never mentioned anything like that.”
“Well, perhaps he’s just growing up. You always said he was a sulky teen. It wasn’t just his parents who couldn’t deal with him.”
“The boy is going to bite my head off,” Minerva said, shaking her head. “And I’m going to have to reprimand him.”
Eileen gave her an odd look. “Perhaps he’ll respond better this time, given some time to think about it. He’s not a child any more. Severus is about to turn twenty; he must be about the same age.”
Minerva thought for a moment. “Yes, he must be about twenty. He’s grown up quickly. I forget that sometimes.”
“And now his father wants to send him a message,” Eileen said. “Perhaps he’s finally ready to hear it. Give him a chance.”
Minerva sighed. “Why can’t Lucretia do this herself?”
Eileen smiled. “She and Walburga are fighting again. And Walburga’s…well…not herself these days. Lucretia thought perhaps the tabby could pick up the message. She thinks Walburga won’t recognize it.”
Minerva shook her head. “The tabby is not a pet,” she said firmly. “And she doesn’t do errands.”
“Of course not,” Eileen said.
“Especially somewhere like Grimmauld Place.”
“Unless it’s safer than you going as yourself,” Eileen pointed out. “Then the tabby is quite helpful.”
Minerva sighed. “Enough of this for tonight, Eileen. I have essays to mark.”
Eileen smiled. “But you’ll do it?”
Minerva glared at her over the top of her reading glasses, but Eileen knew better than to back down. “I’ll light the Floo,” she said. “In case you want to talk to Lucretia.”
*
The tabby arrived at Grimmauld Place near dusk, whiskers quivering, ears alert, uncertain how she was going to enter, but as soon as she reached the front steps the door swung open and a house elf peered out suspiciously.
“Master is waiting,” the house elf said curtly. The tabby followed it upstairs, listening to the house elf’s footsteps and the unnatural quiet of the house.
At the top of the stairs, the house elf turned and opened a door into a narrow, wood-paneled room. The tabby slipped between the door and the doorframe, her footsteps falling silently on a thick carpet. As soon as the door shut behind her, Minerva transformed.
Orion Black was sitting in a stiff-backed chair near the fireplace, a book in his lap, a drink and roll of parchment and a wand on the table beside him. Minerva fingered the wand in her own pocket.
“Good evening,” he said.
“Good evening,” she replied.
“This is for Sirius Black,” he said. He pushed a roll of parchment in her direction. Minerva walked over, picked it up and waited for him to say something further.
“That’s all you wanted to say?” Minerva asked after a moment.
“Yes,” Orion said. Then, after a moment, somewhat grudgingly, “No, that wasn’t all. Thank you, Miss McGonagall. Lucretia tells me you are here as a favor to her.”
“I am,” Minerva replied. “You don’t have anything to say to your son?”
Orion nodded at the parchment. “Just take it to him.”
Somewhere, elsewhere in the house, the sound of china breaking was followed by a muffled scream. Minerva winced, but Orion Black seemed not to have heard.
“I appreciate your time,” Orion Black said. Minerva tucked the parchment into her pocket and transformed. “The house elf will show you out.”
This time the house elf led her down the back stairs and into the alleyway, nearly closing the door on her tail as the tabby slipped out into the street.
*
Minerva was surprised to find Sirius sitting at her desk in her office at Hogwarts the next morning, well before the workday began. He looked up when she entered, startled, and smiled.
“Had a brilliant idea at four this morning,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Minerva shook her head. “I told you that was fine. I couldn’t sleep myself.”
She drew a chair up near the desk and sat down.
“I have something for you, Sirius,” Minerva said cautiously. “Your father gave it me to give to you.”
She pulled the roll of parchment out of her robes and handed it to him. “Let me collect my lesson for the day,” she said. “Then I’ll be on my way. You don’t need to leave.”
But before she could do so, Sirius had unrolled the parchment a few inches, glanced at it dismissively, rolled it up, and tossed it onto the desk. Minerva felt anger rise in the back of her throat. Truly, she couldn’t count the number of times in her life she had been caught between two stubborn male egos. She paused and took a deep breath.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked, lips pursed.
“No.” Sirius said sullenly, his expression dark.
“You’re not even going to look at it?” she asked.
“He has nothing to say to me,” Sirius said shortly. “He’s worse than my mother, really. A bastard all the way through.”
She took a deep breath. “I know you have no one else in your life to tell you this right now, Sirius, so I’m going to say it myself. No matter what political differences you have with your parents, no matter how much you may dislike them, you need to show respect for the people who raised you. Especially when you are here in this office. I will not tolerate anything else.”
Sirius’ expression softened immediately. After a moment’s thought, he passed the parchment to her. “Would you like to read it?”
She shook her head, but Sirius pressed the parchment into her hands. “Go ahead.”
Minerva unrolled it slowly. It was an old parchment, but still cream-colored and quite inflexible to the touch, as if it had not been read very often. At the top of the page, in a cramped, precise, old-fashioned script, were the words “The Last Will and Testament of Orion Black”
She felt a sudden chill.
She scanned the page quickly, unrolling the parchment, until she neared the end. There, in the last paragraph, just past the phrase “principal heir,” Sirius’ name had been crossed out in a bold, casual hand, and an unspeakable epithet scrawled just above it.
She drew in a breath sharply.
A few lines further down the page, the same bold hand had written “Regulus A. Black is my one and only son and heir.”
Bastard. Minerva clutched the chair’s arm very tightly and fought back a wave of nausea.
Sirius took the parchment from her with a puzzled expression and scanned it himself. Minerva glanced up to watch him. She knew when he had reached the handwritten comments because his expression became stony and she could see the muscles in his jaw clench.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize.”
Sirius did not reply.
“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” she repeated. “I didn’t think--or, rather, I thought--that was not the type of message Lucretia led me to expect.”
Sirius laughed dryly. “You thought he really wanted to be back in contact with me? Lucretia’s harmless; don’t blame her. I’m sure he misled her, too.”
They sat in silence, then Sirius spoke softly. “Don’t blame yourself, either. It’s not...unexpected. You knew that's how things stood in our house.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "About the other thing..."
Sirius spoke even more softly now. “About what my father said about me there...that’s not untrue, either. I didn’t intend for you to find out like this...”
Minerva looked away from him.
“Right, well, really, I didn’t want you to know anything at all, but now that you’ve...well, I think you should know, Remus and I--"
“Don’t--" she interrupted. It had taken her a moment to fully understand what he was saying, but as soon as she realized, she reached out and patted him on the knee awkwardly.
“You’re upset, you don’t know what you’re saying. This whole incident was a terrible mistake in judgment on my part. I apologize.”
Sirius looked at her, eyes wide and lips set in a thin line. “But I--"
Minerva shook her head. “Sirius, you know I would never let anyone say that sort of unkind thing about you. Anyone. I’m sorry about this incident, very sorry, but I won’t let anything like it happen again.” She stood to leave. “Sirius, I have all the respect in the world for you. Nothing your father says would ever change my opinion of you. There’s no need to say anything more.”
Sirius looked at her and nodded slowly.
“I have class soon,” she said. “I need to leave.”
He nodded again.
“Minerva?” he asked as she turned to leave.
“Yes?”
“I do have respect for the people who raised me,” Sirius said. “More than you know.”
Minerva nodded curtly. “Good. That’s as it should be.”
*
After she recounted it to Eileen that evening, Minerva expected never to speak about the incident again, but Sirius surprised her. At first he was silent and sullen, not unlike the teenage boy she remembered, but several moody, difficult days later he greeted her with a grin.
“So the sweet little tabby cat went to my parents’ house,” he said, his tone light and teasing.
“The tabby is not sweet,” Minerva said crossly, frowning. She was delighted to see him smiling again.
Sirius smiled. “The tabby is very sweet. Everyone else is afraid to tell you so.”
“You should be, too, then,” she replied.
Sirius laughed. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Minerva sighed. “How did you know? About the cat?”
Sirius’ smile faded. “Going to Grimmauld Place, you mean? Because I’m absolutely certain my mother would never let Professor McGonagall in the house. It had to be the cat.”
Minerva thought about the breaking china and shuddered slightly.
“The tabby is quite brave,” Sirius said, the slightest note of hesitation in his voice. “In addition to being sweet.”
“Well, the tabby tends to land on her feet,” Minerva said lightly.
“Thank you,” Sirius said.
Minerva nodded. “No need to mention it.”
After that they did not mention the tabby's visit to Grimmauld Place or Orion Black's will again.
*
Orion Black, bastard though he was, was right about one thing: he died within the year. Minerva gave Sirius the day of the funeral off but told him she didn’t expect him to attend. Eileen would go, and if he ever wanted to hear about it, he could ask her.
Sirius neither attended nor asked about the event. Eileen thought she saw his friend Remus Lupin there, but when she asked Minerva about it Minerva pursed her lips and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she said.
*
A companion piece (of sorts) about Remus and his parents is here: The Year of Cold Feet.
Word Count: 2800
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Eileen Prince, Sirius Black, and Orion Black
Summary: Orion Black wants to see his son one last time.
For melandry, who wrote a lovely story about messages and messengers during wellymuck. And, yes, cat!McGonagall's appearance is for you, too.
Filling you in: These scenes take place in early 1979. Sirius is working for Minerva McGonagall and the Order of the Phoenix. Eileen Prince is a friend of McGonagall and an occasional member of the Order with close ties to family on the other side of the conflict.
*
They were sitting in Eileen’s chilly front room one evening, Minerva reading the paper, Eileen idly stoking the dying fire.
“I saw Lucretia today,” Eileen said suddenly.
Minerva took that for the opening it was. “What does she want?” she asked, yawning, her eyes continuing to skim the page. Eileen’s cousin always wanted something.
Eileen sighed. “Hear me out?”
“Perhaps.” Minerva was still following the story of the latest Death Eater attack.
“She wants you to talk to Sirius. Orion Black wants to see his son one last time.”
The newspaper came down, politics forgotten for the moment. Minerva frowned and looked at Eileen suspiciously.
“Doesn’t the boy get owl post like the rest of us? Can’t he reach him that way?”
Eileen did not quite meet her eyes. “Apparently he hasn’t responded to owl post.”
Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Well, then, he must not want to hear from him. I wouldn’t reply to Orion Black’s letters, either.”
Eileen tried again. “Please, Minerva. Lucretia asked me to ask you. She says it’s urgent.”
“Why me?” Minerva asked.
“Because you see him regularly,” Eileen said too reasonably.
“So does Albus,” Minerva pointed out. “So does--”
“Because you might be able to convince him.” Eileen interrupted. “Where someone else couldn’t.”
“It’s really not my concern,” Minerva said, her voice less brisk than before.
“That’s not true,” Eileen responded softly. “Sirius is your concern, after all these years. I’m your concern.”
“Lucretia’s not my concern when I can help it, and Orion Black is never my concern.” Minerva snorted.
“He would be if he wanted one last meeting with his son,” Eileen said. Her statement hung in the air between them.
“So Orion thinks he’s dying?” Minerva asked tartly. “Black histrionics, if you ask me. He’ll survive all of us.”
Eileen smiled. “Or Black paranoia, perhaps.” She looked into the fire. “Though perhaps not, if you think about what Regulus has been up to lately. I don’t see a good end to this.”
Minerva did not reply.
“Minerva?” Eileen prompted.
Minerva frowned. “Fine. I’ll ask.”
Eileen rose from her chair, leaned over, cupped Minerva’s cheek with her hand, and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you.”
Minerva touched her hand lightly with her fingertips. “The things I do for you, Eileen.”
“Not just for me,” Eileen said, but Minerva’s fingers were soft and warm against her own, and she did not press the matter any further.
*
Sirius was leaving Order headquarters the next evening just as Minerva arrived. That awful Muggle jacket was slung over his shoulder, and he was smiling, a rare, broad, easy smile that Minerva loved to see.
“Minerva,” Sirius said. “Glad I caught you. Plans tonight, not staying late if that’s fine with you. I left reports for you on the desk. Can we meet in the morning?”
Minerva nodded and cleared her throat. “Sirius, I have a personal message for you,” she said.
Sirius, already halfway out the door, stopped, his smile fading slowly. “You do? Nothing wrong, is there?”
“Your father wants to see you again,” she said, her tone as neutral as she could make it.
Sirius frowned. “I doubt it. What makes you think so?”
Minerva paused. “Your Aunt Lucretia asked me to pass this message along to you. She said…” Minerva paused again. Damn Eileen for asking her to interfere. “She said that he wanted to see you one final time.”
She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected Sirius to say, but the ugly expression that crossed Sirius’ face surprised her.
“Bastard,” Sirius spat.
Minerva drew her breath. “Sirius!” she said, her tone stern. “You will not speak about your father like that in front of me!”
Sirius winced but did not apologize.
Minerva pursed her lips. “Look, I have no opinion as to what you should do, but Lucretia will ask what you said. What should she tell him?”
“Tell him I said he can go to hell,” Sirius said, and then he turned and left. Minerva could hear the angry sputter of the motorbike engine as he drove off.
*
Two nights later they were in Minerva’s rooms at Hogwarts. Eileen was standing on a chair, rearranging the books on the sitting room bookshelves while Minerva marked essays at the table.
“Experimental potions?” Eileen asked, glancing at the book in her hand.
“Top shelf, on the right,” Minerva said absently.
Eileen ran a hand over the dusty gilt cover and opened it curiously. She laughed. “Minerva, this is seven years overdue from the Restricted Section.”
“What Madam Pince doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Minerva replied primly, her eyes twinkling.
Eileen placed the book on the top shelf on the right. “I don’t like Lucretia much, either, you know,” she said suddenly.
“Not again,” Minerva said, setting her quill down and pushing the essays away from her. “Really, Eileen. I told you how Sirius reacted.”
“She cornered me today at the Prewetts’.”
Minerva snorted. “That sounds like her.”
“She wants you to go to Grimmauld Place to pick up a message from Orion.”
“Absolutely not,” Minerva said, determined to put a stop to this madness before it got started. “Why would I ever go there? Apart from being unnecessary and inappropriate, it’s probably quite dangerous. Who know who’s staying there these days? Sirius already said he didn’t want any further contact. He may be a sulky child about this, but we have to respect his wishes.”
“True,” Eileen replied.
Minerva looked at her suspiciously.
“Don’t look at me like that, Minerva; I’m agreeing with you,” Eileen said. “I’m not eager to see you go there, either.
Eileen climbed down off the chair, stepped over the pile of books on the floor, and joined Minerva at the table, taking her hand in her own and leaning towards her.
“It’s just this: Lucretia thinks Orion may want to reconcile.”
“Lucretia is a busybody who has no right to pass that message on to you.”
“You’re right,” Eileen said. “But don’t you want to pass the message along anyway? This separation between father and son, it’s not right.”
“I never knew what happened between them,” Minerva said. “I felt it wasn’t my place to ask. He was so unhappy for so long. He’s just now acting like his old self again. All sly smiles behind my back.”
“Young love,” Eileen said with a crooked, knowing smile.
Minerva started. “I don’t think so,” she said. “At least, he’s never mentioned anything like that.”
“Well, perhaps he’s just growing up. You always said he was a sulky teen. It wasn’t just his parents who couldn’t deal with him.”
“The boy is going to bite my head off,” Minerva said, shaking her head. “And I’m going to have to reprimand him.”
Eileen gave her an odd look. “Perhaps he’ll respond better this time, given some time to think about it. He’s not a child any more. Severus is about to turn twenty; he must be about the same age.”
Minerva thought for a moment. “Yes, he must be about twenty. He’s grown up quickly. I forget that sometimes.”
“And now his father wants to send him a message,” Eileen said. “Perhaps he’s finally ready to hear it. Give him a chance.”
Minerva sighed. “Why can’t Lucretia do this herself?”
Eileen smiled. “She and Walburga are fighting again. And Walburga’s…well…not herself these days. Lucretia thought perhaps the tabby could pick up the message. She thinks Walburga won’t recognize it.”
Minerva shook her head. “The tabby is not a pet,” she said firmly. “And she doesn’t do errands.”
“Of course not,” Eileen said.
“Especially somewhere like Grimmauld Place.”
“Unless it’s safer than you going as yourself,” Eileen pointed out. “Then the tabby is quite helpful.”
Minerva sighed. “Enough of this for tonight, Eileen. I have essays to mark.”
Eileen smiled. “But you’ll do it?”
Minerva glared at her over the top of her reading glasses, but Eileen knew better than to back down. “I’ll light the Floo,” she said. “In case you want to talk to Lucretia.”
*
The tabby arrived at Grimmauld Place near dusk, whiskers quivering, ears alert, uncertain how she was going to enter, but as soon as she reached the front steps the door swung open and a house elf peered out suspiciously.
“Master is waiting,” the house elf said curtly. The tabby followed it upstairs, listening to the house elf’s footsteps and the unnatural quiet of the house.
At the top of the stairs, the house elf turned and opened a door into a narrow, wood-paneled room. The tabby slipped between the door and the doorframe, her footsteps falling silently on a thick carpet. As soon as the door shut behind her, Minerva transformed.
Orion Black was sitting in a stiff-backed chair near the fireplace, a book in his lap, a drink and roll of parchment and a wand on the table beside him. Minerva fingered the wand in her own pocket.
“Good evening,” he said.
“Good evening,” she replied.
“This is for Sirius Black,” he said. He pushed a roll of parchment in her direction. Minerva walked over, picked it up and waited for him to say something further.
“That’s all you wanted to say?” Minerva asked after a moment.
“Yes,” Orion said. Then, after a moment, somewhat grudgingly, “No, that wasn’t all. Thank you, Miss McGonagall. Lucretia tells me you are here as a favor to her.”
“I am,” Minerva replied. “You don’t have anything to say to your son?”
Orion nodded at the parchment. “Just take it to him.”
Somewhere, elsewhere in the house, the sound of china breaking was followed by a muffled scream. Minerva winced, but Orion Black seemed not to have heard.
“I appreciate your time,” Orion Black said. Minerva tucked the parchment into her pocket and transformed. “The house elf will show you out.”
This time the house elf led her down the back stairs and into the alleyway, nearly closing the door on her tail as the tabby slipped out into the street.
*
Minerva was surprised to find Sirius sitting at her desk in her office at Hogwarts the next morning, well before the workday began. He looked up when she entered, startled, and smiled.
“Had a brilliant idea at four this morning,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Minerva shook her head. “I told you that was fine. I couldn’t sleep myself.”
She drew a chair up near the desk and sat down.
“I have something for you, Sirius,” Minerva said cautiously. “Your father gave it me to give to you.”
She pulled the roll of parchment out of her robes and handed it to him. “Let me collect my lesson for the day,” she said. “Then I’ll be on my way. You don’t need to leave.”
But before she could do so, Sirius had unrolled the parchment a few inches, glanced at it dismissively, rolled it up, and tossed it onto the desk. Minerva felt anger rise in the back of her throat. Truly, she couldn’t count the number of times in her life she had been caught between two stubborn male egos. She paused and took a deep breath.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked, lips pursed.
“No.” Sirius said sullenly, his expression dark.
“You’re not even going to look at it?” she asked.
“He has nothing to say to me,” Sirius said shortly. “He’s worse than my mother, really. A bastard all the way through.”
She took a deep breath. “I know you have no one else in your life to tell you this right now, Sirius, so I’m going to say it myself. No matter what political differences you have with your parents, no matter how much you may dislike them, you need to show respect for the people who raised you. Especially when you are here in this office. I will not tolerate anything else.”
Sirius’ expression softened immediately. After a moment’s thought, he passed the parchment to her. “Would you like to read it?”
She shook her head, but Sirius pressed the parchment into her hands. “Go ahead.”
Minerva unrolled it slowly. It was an old parchment, but still cream-colored and quite inflexible to the touch, as if it had not been read very often. At the top of the page, in a cramped, precise, old-fashioned script, were the words “The Last Will and Testament of Orion Black”
She felt a sudden chill.
She scanned the page quickly, unrolling the parchment, until she neared the end. There, in the last paragraph, just past the phrase “principal heir,” Sirius’ name had been crossed out in a bold, casual hand, and an unspeakable epithet scrawled just above it.
She drew in a breath sharply.
A few lines further down the page, the same bold hand had written “Regulus A. Black is my one and only son and heir.”
Bastard. Minerva clutched the chair’s arm very tightly and fought back a wave of nausea.
Sirius took the parchment from her with a puzzled expression and scanned it himself. Minerva glanced up to watch him. She knew when he had reached the handwritten comments because his expression became stony and she could see the muscles in his jaw clench.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize.”
Sirius did not reply.
“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” she repeated. “I didn’t think--or, rather, I thought--that was not the type of message Lucretia led me to expect.”
Sirius laughed dryly. “You thought he really wanted to be back in contact with me? Lucretia’s harmless; don’t blame her. I’m sure he misled her, too.”
They sat in silence, then Sirius spoke softly. “Don’t blame yourself, either. It’s not...unexpected. You knew that's how things stood in our house.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "About the other thing..."
Sirius spoke even more softly now. “About what my father said about me there...that’s not untrue, either. I didn’t intend for you to find out like this...”
Minerva looked away from him.
“Right, well, really, I didn’t want you to know anything at all, but now that you’ve...well, I think you should know, Remus and I--"
“Don’t--" she interrupted. It had taken her a moment to fully understand what he was saying, but as soon as she realized, she reached out and patted him on the knee awkwardly.
“You’re upset, you don’t know what you’re saying. This whole incident was a terrible mistake in judgment on my part. I apologize.”
Sirius looked at her, eyes wide and lips set in a thin line. “But I--"
Minerva shook her head. “Sirius, you know I would never let anyone say that sort of unkind thing about you. Anyone. I’m sorry about this incident, very sorry, but I won’t let anything like it happen again.” She stood to leave. “Sirius, I have all the respect in the world for you. Nothing your father says would ever change my opinion of you. There’s no need to say anything more.”
Sirius looked at her and nodded slowly.
“I have class soon,” she said. “I need to leave.”
He nodded again.
“Minerva?” he asked as she turned to leave.
“Yes?”
“I do have respect for the people who raised me,” Sirius said. “More than you know.”
Minerva nodded curtly. “Good. That’s as it should be.”
*
After she recounted it to Eileen that evening, Minerva expected never to speak about the incident again, but Sirius surprised her. At first he was silent and sullen, not unlike the teenage boy she remembered, but several moody, difficult days later he greeted her with a grin.
“So the sweet little tabby cat went to my parents’ house,” he said, his tone light and teasing.
“The tabby is not sweet,” Minerva said crossly, frowning. She was delighted to see him smiling again.
Sirius smiled. “The tabby is very sweet. Everyone else is afraid to tell you so.”
“You should be, too, then,” she replied.
Sirius laughed. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Minerva sighed. “How did you know? About the cat?”
Sirius’ smile faded. “Going to Grimmauld Place, you mean? Because I’m absolutely certain my mother would never let Professor McGonagall in the house. It had to be the cat.”
Minerva thought about the breaking china and shuddered slightly.
“The tabby is quite brave,” Sirius said, the slightest note of hesitation in his voice. “In addition to being sweet.”
“Well, the tabby tends to land on her feet,” Minerva said lightly.
“Thank you,” Sirius said.
Minerva nodded. “No need to mention it.”
After that they did not mention the tabby's visit to Grimmauld Place or Orion Black's will again.
*
Orion Black, bastard though he was, was right about one thing: he died within the year. Minerva gave Sirius the day of the funeral off but told him she didn’t expect him to attend. Eileen would go, and if he ever wanted to hear about it, he could ask her.
Sirius neither attended nor asked about the event. Eileen thought she saw his friend Remus Lupin there, but when she asked Minerva about it Minerva pursed her lips and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she said.
*
A companion piece (of sorts) about Remus and his parents is here: The Year of Cold Feet.