Three O'clock in the Morning

Three O'clock in the Morning

In the real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Call It a Tribe

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. - Jane Howard

Sirius feared the worst when he entered his mother's house. Indeed, the priest had been right - Mrs. Black did live on a farm. She had inherited it after her late sister's untimely demise and was now happily retired and raising llamas. A maid took his jacket and he followed Harry and Lily into the formal dining room.

Only Mother could create a formal dining room out of a three-century old kitchen, Sirius thought silently to himself. The room was nicely appointed, robin's egg blue walls, a fine wood table, taper candles, and, of course, family portraits proclaiming the ancient House of Black. The portraits did not move, and, surprisingly, many of them held frozen smirks or even smiles. It made Sirius shudder. To be frozen for eternity in a Muggle painting was not the most pleasant way to live. Before he could wonder whether or not Muggle pictures housed sentient occupants like wizard pictures did, Harry interrupted his train of thought.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, tugging lightly on his stepfather's sleeve. "We need to find everyone else - the room isn't that fascinating."

Sirius nodded. "Where would they be?"

"Don't you know the Cold Brook Farm? Or do they not have one in your world?"

"My parents are dead. My brother is dead. I told you, I cut ties to my family, Harry, though, it would be interesting to see Mother and Father working a farm." Sirius smirked wickedly at the thought. It was not payment for his childhood, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, they'll probably be on the porch because of the warmer weather, or they might be in the old sitting room."

"Where's that?"

"Come on, I'll show you." Harry seemed to be pleased that he could lead Sirius around, giving him a grand tour of his step-grandmother's house.

After Harry pointed Sirius in the direction of the now full sitting room, Sirius asked his godson to join him. Almost as a coach or mentor, less like a son or godson. Harry only shook his head and said he would spend the evening with Draco and Thebe. Sirius had no idea who Thebe was, but Harry was not acting unusual, so perhaps the adults separated themselves from their children before eating.

So, Sirius stepped into the room, seeing Narcissa and Lucius conversing quietly by the fireplace and - of all things unholy - Lily and Bellatrix having an apparently genial conversation with Rudolphus, Bellatrix's husband, and Regulus, Sirius' brother. Sirius felt a pointless cut of betrayal when he saw Lily laugh at something his cousin said. She was the reason he was not in his world; she was the reason he could not be happy - or pretend to be happy - with Remus and Harry; she was the one who had exiled him to this inverted magic-less world. And his wife was laughing at her joke.

"Sirius, dear, how nice of you to finally join us," called a sarcastic voice with just a hint of an Irish lilt to it.

Regulus offered him a snifter of brandy. "Ignore Sasha, brother, she's feeling bitter today."

A dark-haired woman with hazel eyes whom Sirius assumed was Sasha slapped Regulus lightly. "That's a nice thing to say about your wife! And I'm not bitter, just preoccupied." Her hand instinctively slid to her stomach.

"Oh, honey, I was just teasing Sirius," Regulus muttered, gathering his wife in a protective hug. "I know you're worried."

Sirius really did not know what to say. The Regulus in his world had died before his parents found him a suitable wife, so he knew nothing of Sasha. There was even a chance that Sasha did not exist in his world. Regulus, the man he had called a brother, would never have pulled a woman, lovingly, into his arms in a public place, either. Then again, in his world, Narcissa and Lucius never dressed in matching silk shirts, either, so go figure.

Sirius joined his wife and relatives in their conversation, everyone but Sasha sipping wine or brandy. He listened to Rudolphus drone on about his work in London and Glasgow, but that it was good to get away to the countryside sometimes, until Bellatrix told him in no uncertain terms to shut up.

"So, Sirius," Bellatrix began, startling Sirius out of the slight stupor her husband had forced on him. "What happened on Friday?"

Sirius was quite tempted to tell her about the battle and swiftly hex her to Hell and back, but bit his lip.

"Friday?" Regulus asked, surprised. "Something happened and you didn't tell me? Sirius, we're brothers! What ever happened to familial love and all of that rot?"

Before Sirius could open his mouth, Bellatrix answered Regulus' question. "He got out and out plastered. Remus called me later and informed me that my dear cousin got in a common barroom brawl and passed out on the sidewalk."

"Hey," Sirius defended, knowing that he could hold his liquor but that it was quite the possibility that Sirius Black - of any universe - could get into a barroom brawl. And a fight would be a good story to cover the cuts and bruises left over from the battle.

"I didn't pass out," he lied, "I only fell over! Making up stories about me!" This was a very new feeling and one Sirius was not sure he liked - verbally sparring with family members. The last time he tried this, Regulus hexed him. When his parents found out about it, they hexed him again. It was no wonder he did not do this often. At least now, he thought to himself pessimistically, they will not hex me.

Rudolphus laughed. "But, cousin! What else would we do with our spare time but create slanderous rumors about our relatives? It is an art, and one we have perfected!"

Sasha grinned at her brother-in-law. "Anyway, she's just getting back at you for that story you tell everyone about when she was five and-"

To silence Sasha, Bellatrix had placed her hand across her mouth. "And that's a story we won't be hearing tonight."

Everyone laughed at that, drawing the attention of the Malfoys.

"Is Sirius telling that ridiculous story about Bella, the dollhouse, and Andromeda's television set?" Lucius asked.

"No," Bellatrix whined. "We are not telling that story again! Every Sunday for the past five years I have had to endure one of the idiot twins telling everyone about how I humiliated myself! I was five for God's sake!"

Regulus grinned at his brother. "Whose turn is it this week?"

"I think it's your turn."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I told it last Sunday."

Shit. "No, it's your turn, you tell it."

Regulus shrugged and flew into a rendition of an obviously embroidered story about Andromeda, Bellatrix, something called a Barbie Doll®, a television set, and Aunt Galatea (their late mother) misinterpreting lyrics to a rock-and-roll song. Or, perhaps, as Regulus so delicately put it, Aunt Galatea did not misinterpret the lyrics and Andromeda and Bellatrix had. By the end of the story, everyone - including Sirius - was laughing. Bellatrix had buried her face in her hands, but Sirius could hear her giggling. He had not heard his cousin giggle since they were toddlers.

Just then, venerable Mrs. Black of evil portrait fame entered the sitting room. She hardly looked as Sirius remembered. She was certainly as well dressed as her offspring and their cousins, but somehow seemed more casual. Maybe it came from running the farm. Sirius did not know. But he certainly knew that his mother, the one from his world, would not be caught dead in a red and white checked skirt, even if it did look like cashmere.

"Are you torturing poor Bellatrix again?" she asked, her arms akimbo.

"No, Aunt Patera," Narcissa excused her cousins with a small smile. "We were just keeping up family traditions."

Sirius' mother, Patera Black, laughed, not an evil laugh, but a soft chuckle. Sirius could not remember hearing that particular sound ever coming from his mother's mouth. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then. Now dinner's ready."

As Patera vanished through the door, the rest of the Black family followed, taking their brandy and wine with them. The tapers in the dining room shone brightly as they settled themselves around the table, with Patera Black at the head in the place of her late husband, Proteus. Sirius found himself sitting between his brother and his wife, while Harry sat at the end of the table with Draco Malfoy and a dark-haired girl a few years younger than the two boys, perhaps eleven or twelve years old. He assumed that the girl was Thebe and, judging from the resemblance, she was Sasha and Regulus' daughter.

After saying a quick blessing, Patera minced no words about dinnertime conversation. "After last week's debacle," she glared at Lucius and Sirius, "I have decided that if you will act like two-year-olds you will have rules like two-year-olds. There are only three rules: no discussion of politics, no discussion of religion, and, as there are children at the table, no discussion of sex. Is that clear?" The entire table nodded silently. "Very well. Let's eat."

Sirius helped himself to the potatoes and green beans and the roast, after verifying its origin with Regulus who gave him an odd look. The food was delicious. Actually, for Sirius, all food that did not involve gruel, rats, or hippogriff feathers qualified as delicious, but he did not want to think about that right now. Lily smiled at him, saying that she was pleased his appetite was back after the previous night's incident. The dinner conversation was nearly nonexistent; apparently all his family talked about was sex, politics, and religion - not particularly different from the Blacks in his world.

Patera coughed lightly. "I did not forbid all conversation!"

Narcissa smirked at her aunt's sarcasm.

"What do you expect us to discuss, Aunt Patera, if we can't talk about our favorite subjects?" Rudolphus asked with a laugh.

Regulus' eyes sparkled. "She told you not to flog a dead horse and not to be rude. It's hardly her fault those are our two favorite hobbies, Rudy!"

Rudolphus turned an interesting shade of crimson as his family laughed, even Draco, Harry, and Thebe.

"I'm sure we can think of something appropriate to talk about," Bellatrix replied.

"Is that a challenge, Bella?"

"I didn't realize you were that dim, sister of mine. Would you prefer an engraved invitation?"

Lucius grinned. "She's just distracted by my-"

Patera shook a serving spoon in the blonde's direction. "None of that at the table, young man."

"Appropriate dinner conversation?" Lily mused. "Well, we can always discuss Lucius' 'delightful' goings-on at school."

Narcissa buried her face in her hands. "Not again, Lily. There has to be something other than Hogwarts to talk about! We've been talking about that damned school since before we got our acceptance letters!"

"Hey! I worked at 'that damned school'! It's a rather nice work environment - better than working with dead people anyway."

"Don't go there, Lucius," Regulus warned. "You know what happens when you insult the family business."

"Just because-"

"Lucius! Again!" This time Patera was wielding the carving knife and looking rather intimidating. "Everyone else is complying by the rules; why can't you?"

"Ah, yes, Aunt. Follow Sirius. Follow Regulus."

"There you go again."

The entire table turned to face Sirius, who had not really spoken since the meal began.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" breathed his mother.

"Lucius is talking politics again - family politics," Sirius replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Everyone at the table, with the exceptions of Lucius and Sirius, burst into peals of laughter.

Regulus clapped his brother on the back. "Always keeping up the family pride!"

No one noticed how Sirius paled at Regulus' praise; Bellatrix was trying to tell a crude joke without being crude, much to the amusement of everyone. It took Sirius a moment to realize that he had downed his entire snifter of brandy in one gulp. On one hand, it explained why his stomach was complaining; on the other hand, he was falling into his old habit of drinking when his life got rough. Mentally distancing himself from conversation and family, he reached for his water glass, hoping to appease his stomach and the hangover gods in one fell swoop.

"Traitors! You disgrace my home!"

Before he could think or realize that Patera was only teasing Lucius and Bellatrix, Sirius murmured the words to the incantation he and Moony had found in the old Black library. It was the incantation that could burn his mother's portrait - but it would not harm the surrounding walls or furnishings. "Feuerfalle."

No one heard Sirius over their resounding laughter and, if they had, the thought of a cousin whispering was shut out of their minds when the dining walls were engulfed in red and purple fire.

Yet, as soon as the flames appeared, they vanished. The only sign that the room had been set fire was that every portrait was missing and small piles of ash lay scattered about the room.

"What in the nine Hells was that?" gasped Sasha, who was clutching her husband protectively.

Patera crossed herself. "I'm not sure we really want to know the answer to that question, my dear."

Bellatrix touched one of the walls, lightly, fearfully. "It isn't even warm to the touch!"

"But the paintings are gone!"

"No, no. The fire burned the paintings - look!" Narcissa pointed the ashes that lay beneath were the portraits once rested.

"My word," whispered Lucius. "What kind of fire can do that?"

"If I may repeat Aunt Patera's words: I'm not sure we really want to know the answer to that question," Rudolphus replied, tapped some ashes lightly with his finger. "They're cold."

"Cold? They can't be cold! They just burned!"

"I know that!" he snapped. "But they're cold all the same."

"It's absurd..."

Patera shivered. "Well, we can all thank God that only the paintings burned, and not us."

The family slowly nodded. Sirius noted that Harry and Draco had protectively thrown Thebe farther toward the center of the room. Not that it could really have helped the girl escape the fire, but it was nice to see that the two boys obviously cared for their cousin and could work together.

Sirius coughed to get everyone's attention. "If we seem to be out of immediate danger, I suggest we finish our meal, if we can, and then try to find the source of this mystery. No sense in crime solving when you're hungry."

Rudolphus laughed. "Good old Sirius! Always thinking with his stomach!"

The rest of the meal was finished in silence, with everyone cautiously eying the walls for red and purple flames that never appeared. Harry tried to catch his stepfather's attention several times without being overt, but failed. Sirius, once he realized that he was not suspect for the crimes, slipped into what Prongs had once called "family mode." It was the only time when Sirius acted according to his upbringing - aristocratic manners and all - and there was a striking difference between the normal Sirius and the family Sirius.

After dinner, the entire family searched the house for a source of the flames, but none were apparent. The animals outside were acting normally so obviously the fire was contained within the house, but no other room seemed to be affected. It was absurd to assume that fire would encompass one room for the sole purpose of burning portraits and disappear, Lily pointed out.

Sirius was silent when they returned home and Lily did not bother attempting to entice him in bed.