Nocturne of Stars

It was a hot summer afternoon as Arianna Parkinson fanned her face and looked around Jackson Square. Many locals and tourists had gone into the bars for happy hour. In the steaming square no one seemed interested in anything except finding some cool spot to sit down. She adjusted herself in front of her low folding table, and idly shuffled her tarot cards. If Divination had been good for anything, it had taught her how to tell people exactly what they would like to hear. What Muggles would like to hear, anyway.

The sun had turned Arianna's usually pale skin a deep golden brown that was probably going to last well into the winter. Sitting next to her, slowly eating a piece of stale beignet was Arianna's two and a half year old daughter, Chara. Arianna gave her daughter a sad smile and stroked the back of her head. "Does that taste good, sweetie?"

Chara nodded slowly. "Thank you, mum." She started licking the sugar off her fingers. Arianna went back to shuffling her tarot cards and looking around. It was the same everyday. She kept hoping and praying that Regulus Black was going to show up here, and things would be all right again. But that was a foolish hope. Regulus, Solairs's father, had been dead for over two years. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been gone for almost a year, and not one member of Arianna's family cared to speak with her.

So she had slept with Regulus and gotten pregnant. So what? What was the big deal about that? It wasn't like there had been time to get married, for some reason, Regulus had told her to flee, and that he would come to her as soon as he could. Then he was killed. Arianna had a notion of who did the deed. It was either that lying bastard Lucius, or Regulus's cousin, Bellatrix. From what she read in The Wizarding Picayune, Malfoy had talked his way out of Azkaban, and Bellatrix was rotting there. So was Regulus's brother, Sirius. Honestly, of all people go and imprison! Sirius walked out of his parents house. She had nearly laughed when she had heard the news. Sirius? Sirius was a Death Eater? Right. And I'm Miss America.

But whatever feelings she had for Regulus had started to fade several months ago. Perhaps her only wish of seeing him was because his little girl looked so much like him that she wanted to see him - even if it was just one last time. One last time was all she wanted. Was that so wrong? No, it couldn't be so wrong. Arianna set the cards down and studied the mark on her right palm. The geometric design looked almost like a burn on her hand. But she knew very well what it was.

She sighed and picked up her tarot cards again. Arianna knew what was before her and what would happen to her before this week was over. It would be for the best. She just hoped that someday, Chara would understand.

Chara looked around at the people in the square with her and her mama. The only ones really close to them was a dark man behind a food cart. She yawned in the bright summer sunlight, wondering when she and her mama could go back to their nice cool home. True, Chara was unaware that she and her mother were very poor, and they lived in little more than a hovel, but she knew that it was cool there. "Mama, can I go get a drink of water?"

Arianna looked up and glanced at the drinking fountain a short distance away. "Hurry back and stay were I can see you."

Chara jumped up and, despite the heat, skipped over to the drinking fountain recessed near the entrance of a stone building. She tried to haul herself up to the water, and was about ready to climb the fountain when a pair of arms picked her up and held her so that she could get the cool water. As she was set back down, Chara looked up at the tall dark haired man who smiled at her.

"Thank you, mister." Chara smiled back.

"You're welcome." The man patted her head. "Better go back to your mama."

"Yes, mister." Chara saw the man bend down to get his own drink of water and she started across towards her mother, who smiled at her. She had just reached her when a cracking sound filled the square, and Chara saw her mother's face change. Then more cracks, and then screams. Chara tried to catch her mother as she slumped over, and something cool, wet, and coppery tasting splashed into her face. Unable to hold her mother, she was forced to sit down on the steaming pavement, pinned under her mother's prone form.

Screams, cracks, and then, sirens filled the air in a cacophony of noise. Chara rubbed her nose, and saw that her hands were soaked with something red. She began to wail, scared, terrified, wishing that she was dreaming. When the cracking stopped, Chara didn't know, she kept looking around, hoping for reassurance somewhere, and when she looked over at two men standing, talking excitedly, and just when she thought that the men were going to help her, one of them raised a device and a flash temporarily blinded her.

"Mama." Chara started to shake Arianna's body, hoping she would wake up. "Mama, wake up." She did not see the man who hauled her mama away from her and then picked her up. She struggled to break free from the man in the dark blue shirt. "No, MAMMA!!!"

It would be the last time Chara ever saw her mother in any form, as a member of the New Orleans Emergency Medical Team took her from Jackson Square and off to the hospital.

**

Elizar Peltier had just set the phone down in his office when a sharp pain laced his left palm.

"What the?" He held the hand up to examine it and watched in utter horror as the geometric design faded away. The design had only been there four days - there was no reason for it to vanish so quickly. Unless...

A door slammed somewhere down the hall and a terrified voice screamed. "Someone's shooting up the Square!"

"Oh god..." Zar quickly dialed the phone.

"Sanctuary." His sister's voice greeted him.

"Aimee? Is Arianna there?" He swallowed hard.

"No, she was just here this morning - she went to the Square like she normally does."

"Chara is there, right?"

"I've not seen her since..." Aimee tapped her fingers on the wall next to the phone. "I think Arianna took her along today... I don't know why..."

Zar knew the phone fell from his grasp. He could vaguely hear his sister's voice calling to him.

"Zar? Zar what is it? Zar?"

**

Headlines and gruesome pictures were splashed on the front page of papers as far away as Australia. There was an outcry of public feeling in the United States. Twenty-seven people had been murdered in cold blood in New Orleans. The killer, one Erik Stevenson, had surrendered to the police as soon as he had run out of ammunition. The trial was swift, and he was found guilty of twenty-seven counts of murder. But many more people became disgusted when the jury failed to bring in a sentence of death. The judge had no choice but to give the man life in prison.

Chara was not to learn until later that the picture the man had took of her, covered in her mother's blood had appeared on the cover of Time, nearly twenty newspapers, and the same man was later awarded a Pulitzer Prize for the photograph. No one ever really gave a thought to 'The Wailing Child' who had become an orphan in that photograph. They went on with their lives, and Chara, went into her own form of nightmare.

****

When he was five years old, Adrian Carlyle had been diagnosed with an extremely rare and very deadly form of cancer. His parents, Ethan and Rebecca Carlyle's had watched their only child suffer from the disease that was slowly killing him, until pure chance landed a miracle in their laps.

The details were always sketchy at best, for later, whenever Chara had asked, she had been told that the Carlyles saw her sitting on a hospital bed, orphaned and alone, and their hearts just broke at the sight of her. Chara had the vague memory of being picked up by a man who asked her a few questions, and then patted her head, and then said "You won't be forgotten" whatever THAT was supposed to mean. Very often the man who had spoken to her and the man who had held her up to the drinking fountain ran together in her memory, as if they were the same person, and perhaps, they had been.

She also had the vague memory of a house with other children, where she didn't stay very long, and then Ethan Carlyle buckling her into his large automobile. She remembered waking up in a soft bed, and then there was the long stream of memories that were faint and forgotten as the years progressed.

The truth of Chara's adoption was kept hidden from most people. Regulus's parents, while appalled that their only grandchild was living with Muggles there was no way that they were going to send her to live with any of her relatives, given how most of them had gone around slandering their son's name and accusing him of things he had never done. Indeed, while they were extremely disappointed in their elder son, they strongly believed that neither of their children would turn traitor.

Both of the Blacks knew their days were numbered, and they did not have the patience for such a small child. Besides, who would take care of her when they died? Certainly not Kreacher. That would be a nightmare for both of them. In the end, they came up with a small contract, listing several important terms that were not to be undermined, and the adoption would not be contested.

The Carlyles did not object to any of the statements, and with that, Chara was more or less officially abandoned by her family.

****

Even after the countless times she had given blood, nothing could hurt worse than the deep ache of having one's bone marrow removed. Chara lay on the couch in the hospital waiting room with her guardians, Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Ethan. Aunt Becca was gently stroking her forehead, and Chara winced slightly. It wasn't just bone marrow this time, it had been blood and plasma as well. Down the hall, Nineteen year old Adrian Carlyle was undergoing major surgery. She had always called Ethan and Rebecca Carlyle by the names Aunt and Uncle. This was never something they insisted she stopped doing, and they had actually encouraged it. Chara had decided that when she was seven, they wanted to be addressed as such, because it made her seem less like their child. In reality, she was little more than a walking transfusion for Adrian.

Chara, now thirteen, closed her eyes and wished they could just go home. She hated the smell of the hospital, even after being here so many times. She just wanted to curl up in her own bed, and think about things like heading back to Windborne Conservatory, to be with other people like her, people in the magical world. School would start in a few weeks, hopefully, she would be better, and so would Adrian. Adrian could go off to college, like he'd always wanted to, and things would be good.

"How are you feeling, Char?" Rebecca smiled. "Still tired?"

"Uh huh." Chara slowly sat up, wishing she could eat something better than the toast and oatmeal the doctors had given her. There hadn't even been enough butter and jam to spread on the limp toast to make it taste better. What Chara really wanted was something hearty, like a sandwich loaded with beef, horseradish, and green peppers. Whole wheat bread - something wonderful like that...

The food at school was always wonderful, and she could actually eat decently, or at least, more than she was usually allowed to eat at home. Even though Ethan's income as a pediatric cardiologist kept the family in plenty of food, Rebecca seemed to have an obsession with keeping Chara as healthy as possible. Things that contained sugar were almost forbidden, because 'what if Adrian suddenly needs a transfusion?' There was a big long list of things that she wasn't allowed to eat or do, and Chara was very glad that Adrian had managed to only lapse when she was home from school. Being stuck in the hospital for her Christmas vacation wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

The door of the room slowly came open, and the doctor came in, his head down. Chara suddenly felt very cold. The man looked over the three of them and gave a tiny smile to Chara. Dr. Rochester took a deep breath. "Dr. and Mrs. Carlyle."

Ethan took Rebecca's hand. "How's Adrian?"

David Rochester removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking at the small family. "We were able to remove the tumor from his heart, but he went into cardiac arrest, and we were unable to resuscitate him. I am sorry."

Rebecca shook her head. "No... that's not... not Adrian..." She began to sob. Ethan hugged his wife tightly.

"I am so sorry..." David slowly walked from the room, leaving the family to their grief.

Ethan closed his eyes and held Rebecca tightly, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. Chara looked at the floor, a roaring in her ears. What was she to do now? Without Adrian, there was little purpose for her to the Carlyles. Would they get rid of her? She was to weak to cry herself, but all she knew was that now she was afraid. Afraid of what lay in front of her, and wondering if there was anyone in the world who felt as lonely as she did at this moment.

****

Sirius Black leaned against the wall of his cell, staring at the opposite wall. He knew this small room from top to bottom, knew how many bricks were on each wall, the number of stones on the floor, the distance it took to walk it, were the sun would fall at each hour. For twelve years he had sat here, wondering, wishing that somehow, he could get word to someone... for someone to believe he was innocent.

The dementors weren't as much of a looming figure as they normally were. A slightly cheery voice came from the corridors.

"Everything seems to be in top form here, excellent." Cornelius Fudge walked down the stone hallway and peered into Sirius's cell. "Ah, how are you today Mr. Black?"

Sirius stared at the man and blinked. "As good as can be expected." Sirius rose and went to the door. He saw the middle aged wizard, plump and well fed. He supposed seeing the Minister of Magic was better than seeing that asshole Crouch. He looked the man over, and caught sight of the newspaper tucked into a pocket of the minister's robes. "Are you finished with that newspaper?"

"Pardon me?" Fudge blinked. For someone who was heavily guarded by dementors, he sounded rather sane.

"I was wondering if you were finished with your newspaper, Minister... I've missed doing the crossword very much...."

Cornelius blinked once or twice and drew the paper out of his pocket. "Yes I have..."

He handed the paper to Sirius through the bars of the window in the door. Sirius took it and blinked once or twice.

"Thank you minster." Sirius walked back to his thin cot and heard a cat-calling voice from down the hall.

"Sirius-wearyus, kissing the minster's buttus!!" Bellatrix Lestrange cackled at her own joke and her laugh was cut off by a muffled scream. A dementor had apparently silenced her.

Cornelius shook his head as he and the dementor who was escorting him through Azkaban left the high security area.

Sirius unfolded the newspaper and ran his fingers over the words The Daily Prophet. When was the last time he held a newspaper? It had been years. The date told him that it was near the middle of July, and he scanned the headline Ministry of Magic Employee Scoops Grand Prize. He had to smile at the picture below it, a wizarding family, seven children and their parents. Six boys and one girl. Sirius's smiled. He could only imagine what that little girl's life was like, having six older brothers, who were no doubt super-protective. He scanned the picture again, and then noticed something. There was a rat on the youngest boy's shoulder. There was nothing odd about that... wait...

Sirius raised the paper closer to his face and were it possible, would have gone white. He would know that rat anywhere. It was him. There was no mistake about it, it was Peter. So that's where he playings the rat that he really was, pretending to be nothing more than a pet... Sirius hastily scanned the article, and then a horrifying thought occurred to him. If Peter was playing the pet, then the young boy no doubt took him to school. To Hogwarts - where Harry, his best friend's son was. Sirius slowly raised his head from the newspaper.

"He's at Hogwarts." He whispered to himself. Sirius knew he had to get out of Azkaban - at any cost. If Peter was at Hogwarts, and if Voldemort really wasn't dead.... then Harry was in danger, and no one knew it... because Sirius was the only one who knew... Sirius ripped the front page of the paper off and shoved it into his pocket. He had a feeling that eventually, he may need it.

****

Family flooded in and out of the Carlyle's home. Chara sat on the porch swing, listening to the older people talk, watching people comfort one another. She still wasn't feeling healthy herself, and as she sat there in her black dress, her hair pulled back as if she was a very little girl with a black bow, she stared into her glass of ice tea.

"It's such a warm summer..." Angela Carlyle, Ethan's mother fanned herself. "Is it this warm in Mobile?"

"Heavens, yes..." Susan Anne Danvers, Rebecca's great aunt waved a fan in front of her face. "Such a sultry summer we're having, don't you think so, Char?"

Chara looked up. "What?"

"I said, it's a very sultry summer, isn't it, Char?" Susan smiled at the girl, her old face seeming somewhat kind.

"Yes, Aunt Susan, it's very sultry." She took a small sip of ice tea. "How are your rosebushes this year?"

"Fine and lovely, thank you for asking." She beckoned the girl over. "Come over here and sit with your grandmother and me, Char, instead of sitting there like a little squirrel."

Chara rose and sat down primly on one of the porch chairs, after setting her glass on the wicker table. "Thank you." She tried to smile, but couldn't. Grandmother Carlyle and Aunt Susan were the only one of her 'relatives' she actually enjoyed being with - everyone in the family, save for her aunt and uncle called her Char. But grandma and Great Aunt Susan were the only ones that she didn't hate to be addressed as such.

"Now, Angela, you really should consider the garden club, when you get to be our age, there aren't to many social activities you in which you can indulge." Susan sipped her ice tea.

"I don't have any desire to garden, you know that, Susan, I'm terrible at that sort of thing. I am quite content with my Bridge group." If the three of them had not been sitting around in black, you would never know they had come from a funeral. Chara picked up her ice tea glass and took a long sip.

"Would you like me to go bring you something?" Chara cleared her throat. "Are either of you hungry?"

Susan beamed at her. "Aren't you darling? I could use a little something, how about you Angela?"

Angela patted the girl's arm. "Isn't she a precious one? And so pretty, too..." She fingered the end of Chara's hair. "Just a light something, no fried chicken for me.... my constitution can't stand it anymore....saddly."

"All right grandma, Aunt Susan." Chara turned and went into the house, past the small crowds of people in rooms, and slipped into the kitchen. She had just finished getting plates ready when her Uncle Damian, the older brother of Aunt Becca came into the kitchen.

"What do you think you're doing?" He said, jerking both plates from her hands and setting them down on the counter.

"I was getting grandma Carlyle and Great Susan something to eat." Chara answered.

Damian reached out and slapped her across the face. "You know you're the one who should be dead, don't you?"

Chara held her cheek and stared up at her uncle. She couldn't respond, she was to stunned.

"Those doctors should have cut your heart out and given it to Adrian, you rotten little brat." He grabbed her hair and jerked her head upward. "Don't you turn away when I'm talking to you!"

"I..." Chara started to speak. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pitcher on a shelf start to shake slightly.

"I don't want you speaking, you little rat. I don't know why you're even here, you're not worth keeping..." The pitcher fell to the floor with a loud crash, causing Damian to jerk and pull Chara's hair.

"That's enough!" Ethan Carlyle came into the kitchen and Damian let go of Chara. Ethan smoothed the girl's hair down and gave his brother in law a hard look. He took the two plates and handed them back to Chara. "You go on back out front, Chara..." He patted her on the back and nudged her towards the door. She walked quickly from the room, her face still stinging from where Uncle Damian had struck her. As she strode through the hallway, she noticed that people had stopped talking, and were staring at her. She refused to turn her eyes towards anyone. She hadn't meant for that pitcher to fall, but it was better than something happening to her uncle. It was as if she could hear them whispering about her, how she should not be there, how Adrian Carlyle should be the one carrying plates, and the funeral should be for her, Chara Azriel Black.

Then Chara reminded herself almost none of these people would come to her funeral. As for what she had made happen in the kitchen... Hopefully, since it was a minor thing and could have easily been caused by natural causes, the Ministry of Magic wouldn't send her a warning for the falling pitcher.

****

The ice cold water of the Atlantic was still with him when Sirius staggered ashore, somewhere in England. Still in dog form, he shook himself off and padded up the shingle beach, uncertain of where he was. It was a warm summer night, so at least he had that to warm him a little. It would not be long before the dementors noticed he was missing.

It was unlikely that anyone saw him slip out of his cell, the dementors were blind, so they had not seen him, and most inmates of Azkaban rarely came to the doors of their cells. The occupants of the little town on the coast did not see the large black dog lopping hurriedly through their town, and as he left the sleepy place, Sirius could have sworn he heard a scream of rage from the dementors of Azkaban as a strong wind swept through the night. A wind that smelled of rain and promised a storm.

****

Chara lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The funeral had been a week ago, and all the visitors were gone. The only thing that told that anything had happened was the fact that Adrian was no longer there, and the large container of ham salad in the fridge. In her memory, she remembered her cousins telling her that she was worthless, and several other family members telling her that she hadn't done all that she could.

What had they expected her to do? Was she supposed to go into that operating room and make Adrian's heart start beating? It wasn't her fault that the cancer finally attacked his heart. She'd done what she could, short of giving Adrian her healthy heart. Maybe that's what they had wanted. They wanted her to die and just have the doctors take all of her transferable organs and give them to Adrian. Now Adrian was gone.

She hated her family. So many of them hated her, they resented her since that summer day when Aunt Becca and Uncle Ethan had brought her home, and started calling her 'their little darling.' That hadn't lasted long, because soon she became a shadow in the house. Chara sat up and rubbed her face. School was an escape, even if she only had a few friends.... and they never bothered to keep in contact during the summer.

There was a light tapping on her window, and Chara saw an owl against the sill. She opened the window and the owl fluttered in, holding out it's leg, to which a newspaper was tied. "Been so busy..." She came and untied the newspaper, and gave the bird two knuts before it flew out the window again. The Wizarding Picayune was about the only contact she had with the wizarding world while at home, and usually, the paper arrived when she was asleep. There had been nothing interesting for days, some talk of the Quidditch World Cup next summer, but that had been the most interesting thing.

When she unrolled the paper, a sallow faced man with matted hair and sunken eyes blinked up at her, looking as if he had just spent time someplace nasty. This was confirmed by the headline that were under the newspaper's name. BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN. Chara's eyes widened, and after scanning the article, she was breathing very fast. Sirius Black - she knew that name. In the letter that had been in the vault at Gringots...he had been mentioned. There had been another letter, one from her paternal wizarding grandparents.

Her uncle - the only direct blood relative she had left in the world, was on the loose - and the whole wizarding world was on the look out. Chara had the feeling that what few friends she had were suddenly going to be very distant from her. She fell back against her bed, still looking at the photograph. It was hard to judge what he had looked like when he was younger, twelve years in Azkaban would make anyone look like that.

She squinted and drew the paper closer to her. If he was cleaned up, he might look a little like Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker's Dracula. The very thought of that suddenly caused a smile to spread across Chara's face, and she chuckled. The notion of some California witch or wizard mistaking Oldman for her uncle caused her to put the paper down and laugh. Why Sirius had escaped, she didn't really care, nor did she bother to wonder how.

****

Remus Lupin stuffed The Daily Prophet into his bag and placed the bag onto the luggage rack. He was tired, and he was worried. Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. Why? He could only assume one thing - that the traitor was out to finish what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had tried to start.

And Remus owed it to his late friends James and Lily Potter to watch over their son Harry. He pulled his cloak up over his shoulder and leaned against the glass. For now, he would rest. He was deeply asleep when three children, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger came into the same compartment and sat down.

******

First chapter - I know, it's somewhat full. Again, all characters are copyrighted to their respective owners. Questions? Comments? Feedback is always welcome at [email protected]