Sirius and the boys prepared to return to England at the end of August with a heavy heart. Neither Harry nor Draco could remember ever having had such a marvellous summer, and Sirius had begun to settle comfortably into his new role as Harry's father. None of them looked forward to rejoining the perpetual intrigue that was daily life in the Houses of Black and Malfoy.
Nonetheless, when the first of September came around, all three gathered in the entrance hall with their trunks, bade Arcturus and Melania farewell and Portkeyed back to Windermere Court. Marius, Clytemnestra and Cassiopeia greeted them.
'Welcome home, boys,' Cassiopeia said. 'I am looking forward to our first lessons of the year on Monday. I trust I shall find that you have been diligent in your wandwork over the past month.'
'Yes, Aunt Cassie,' Harry and Draco replied in unison. They had both become quite competent at a number of basic spells, though Harry was still far stronger when he cast in Parseltongue. He was sorely tempted to use only Parseltongue, because it was so much easier, but since Harry hoped to keep his newfound talent from Aunt Cassie's notice, he forced himself to learn the normal way.
'Your mother told me that she wanted you to come home right away, Draco,' Clytemnestra said. 'You may use the fireplace in the parlour. We shall send Mopsy over with your things presently.'
'Thank you, Aunt Clytemnestra,' Draco said, and waved to Harry and Sirius. 'See you tomorrow, Aries, Uncle Sirius.'
'Bye, Draco,' Harry said. Sirius patted the blond boy on the shoulder, and Draco ran off to the parlour.
'As for you two,' Marius said, 'Pollux has been asking for you. The Healers say he's taken a serious turn for the worse. It won't be long now until the end.'
Harry and Sirius changed into their best robes and Flooed over to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher escorted them up to the master bedroom, where Pollux lay motionless in the centre of the large four-poster bed. Irma sat quietly by his side, looking as though she had not slept in days.
'Hello, Sirius dear,' Irma said. 'Hello, Aries. It was good of you to come.' She glanced at her husband's gently sleeping form. 'He was asking for you earlier today, but he drifts in and out. I don't know when he will wake up again.'
'That's all right, Grandmamma,' Sirius replied, his face unusually solemn. 'We'll wait here for awhile. Why don't you rest a bit?'
Irma nodded and rose from her chair. 'Kreacher, prepare the bed in Mistress Ursula's old room. I shall sleep there for the time being. Prepare Master Sirius's old room for him, and Master Regulus's for Aries.'
'Yes, Mistress,' the house elf croaked, and scampered off to do her bidding.
Irma placed her icy hand on Harry's cheek. 'He'll be so pleased to know you're here, Aries,' she said. 'Your great-grandfather may have a strange way of showing it, but he cares for you very much.'
Harry nodded, trying not to cry. He didn't know how to respond. It was strange for a boy whose parents had been murdered when he was one, but Harry had never really experienced death, not that remembered.
Irma dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. 'I was twelve when Pollux and I married,' she said. 'He was thirteen. It's strange. I've spent the better part of six decades devoutly wishing for the bastard to leave me alone. Now, when it seems the old fool's finally preparing to do just that, I find I want nothing more than for him to stay.' She burst into tears. 'Oh Poll!' she cried. 'Whatever shall I do without you?'
Sirius pulled his grandmother into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder. 'It'll be all right, Grandmamma,' he whispered soothingly. 'Aries and I will take care of you. Everything will be fine.'
Irma only cried harder into Sirius's best dress robes. Harry stood there and fidgeted nervously.
.....
That evening after Harry went to bed in Regulus's old room and Irma returned to her husband's side, Sirius changed into Muggle clothes, slipped out of the house and Apparated to an old Muggle pub he and James had often frequented. It had been a very difficult day. Sirius and Harry had taken it in shifts to sit beside Pollux, but the old man woke infrequently.
When he did, he tended to rant about Dumbledore or wax eloquent about the beauties of Grindelwald's ideology. The family had known the end was coming, but they hadn't expected it to come so soon. If anything, Sirius would have guessed that Arcturus would go first. Towards the end of their visit, he had kept calling Harry 'Sirius' and Sirius 'Orion.' He was calling Draco 'Regulus,' which made no sense at all, but the blond boy had borne it in good spirits.
Sirius walked into the crowded pub and ordered a pie and a pint, sitting at the table in the corner where the Marauders had always used to sit. They had all come here the night James's mum died, and James and Sirius had come here when they had heard about Regulus's death. As he sat in the familiar spot and sipped the familiar brew, Sirius found that he could almost imagine his friends around him.
James would have sat across from him, of course, going on about how beautiful Lily was and how lucky he was to finally get her, or repeating incessantly the latest story about Harry's new word. Remus would have sat to Sirius's left, quietly nursing his ale and smiling softly at the appropriate moments. He could keep quiet most of the night, but when he did speak, his words were golden. Peter would have sat to Sirius's right, hanging onto James's every word as he always did. Sirius raised his ale to his invisible comrades.
'Here's to you, mates,' he whispered.
'Well, well, well,' a familiar voice said behind him. 'If it isn't Sirius Black.'
.....
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