Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Genres:
Alternate Universe Drama
Era:
The First War Against Voldemort (Cir. 1970-1981)
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 07/16/2007
Updated: 07/16/2007
Words: 3,168
Chapters: 1
Hits: 783

The First of November

La Reine Noire

Story Summary:
October 1981. One prophecy, two children. What if it had gone the other way?

Chapter 01

Posted:
07/16/2007
Hits:
772


The first of November dawned bright and crisp and cold. Lily swore under her breath, having realised just as she stepped into the bath that she'd left the window in Harry's room open all night. Shivering in her now-soaked bathrobe, she hurried down the corridor and pulled it shut.

He was still sleeping, the heavy woollen blanket drawn up to his chin. Lily smiled and ruffled the already mussed black curls on her son's head. He had James's hair; that much was for certain.

She finished her bath and made her way downstairs to find James frowning into the fireplace. "That was Wormtail," he said without preamble. "The Longbottoms were attacked last night."

"Oh God!" Lily sank onto the sofa beside him. "Are they...did anyone...?"

"Alice. Frank had gone out for groceries, of all the stupid..." James shuddered. "It might have been us. The prophecy--"

"But it wasn't us, James." She hated the relief in her voice. Then, suddenly, "But Neville! What about the baby?"

"Well, you see, that's the strangest thing," James said, the frown evident in his voice. "Wormtail wasn't making much sense, but he said something about backfiring curses and Voldemort being..."

"Being...?" she prompted.

"Dead, Lil. He says Voldemort's dead."

Shock robbed her of speech, and she could only stare open-mouthed into the fireplace.

***

The celebrations went on for days. Exercising unusual caution, James forestalled Lily's suggestion that they perform the incantation to reverse the Fidelius Charm. There were still Death Eaters, regardless of what happened to their leader. Surely it was better for them to lie low for another week or so.

On Bonfire Night, amidst flames and cheering and too much mulled wine, a group of Muggles stumbled across the body of Peter Pettigrew not too far from the village wizards called Godric's Hollow. There were no marks, but his face had been twisted into a mask of unspeakable agony. Ministry authorities, after having performed Memory Charms on all the witnesses, pronounced the cause of death to have been overuse of the Cruciatus Curse. Some six hours later, Aurors led by Alastor Moody captured Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange on what they claimed was an anonymous suggestion.

Moody's oft-voiced suspicion was that Barty Crouch Jr. had weighed his options and his terror of being the next Peter Pettigrew won out over any loyalty he might have had to his former master. Bellatrix Lestrange did seem to have that effect on people.

Nobody had known that Pettigrew was a Death Eater. The general air of numbed disbelief surrounding his two former best friends--the third still in hiding and presumable unaware of this latest development--attested to that. Moody slowly added up various clues in his head, and it did all fit together in a horrible puzzle of mysterious absences and silences. But he had come through for the Potters in the end, it seemed. That, at the very least, was something.

Immediately following the unexpected murder of his wife, Frank Longbottom took his son Neville to live at his grandmother's. It was there that James and Lily came directly after completing the counterspell for the Fidelius Charm.

"They didn't find you, then," were the first words out of Frank's mouth as his dulled eyes flickered over the three of them. "That's something."

"Frank, I'm so very sorry. Truly." Lily crossed the room to where he sat, kneeling on the floor in front of him. "It's just too awful."

"I wasn't there," he whispered. "I should have been. It was a stupid errand, really. We ran out of milk, of all the things, and Alice didn't want Neville to go without for the night. I came back to..." He swallowed, the words catching in his throat, "The house had collapsed. Thank goodness for the wooden cot Mother gave us, otherwise I don't even want to think..."

Lily shuddered. "Will you stay here, then?"

"Neville will, I think. I'll just Apparate back and forth from the Ministry. You know what people are saying, don't you? About Neville and Voldemort?" He smiled weakly. "Who'd have thought my little boy'd defeat the greatest Dark Wizard of our times? I'd have expected it to be Dumbledore, maybe Moody. Never this."

"Not even with the prophecy?" James put in cautiously as he shifted Harry from one arm to the other. "It did say something to that effect."

Frank laughed without humour. "I don't believe in that nonsense. Easy enough to say it was a prophecy when you're looking at it in hindsight. Not that I can think of any other explanation, but there's got to be something else."

"But Frank..." Lily was frowning, as though something had just occurred to her. "Dumbledore told us...he said he was your Secret-Keeper."

The expression that crossed Frank's face then made her shudder. "He was. Until the day we performed the Charm. It was my fault...I told him we couldn't in good conscience ask him to do it. The risk was too great. So we asked Alice's father instead, and now..." He stared at the wall, eyes hollow and haunted. "It's all my fault."

"No, it isn't," James said firmly. "You couldn't have known what would happen. I mean..." He stopped short, turning away.

"You mean what?" Frank prompted, curiosity lending his voice some sign of life.

James laughed, though completely without humour. "Our Secret-Keeper was a Death Eater, Frank. Wormt---Pettigrew. He'd been hiding it for who knows how long, and it was pure luck, nothing more. Pure damned luck."

"Frank," Lily finally said, taking his hands in hers, "perhaps...we can take Neville for a few weeks, have him at Godric's Hollow with us and Harry. If you need time..."

"There won't be time enough for that, Lily, but I do thank you," he replied with a shadow of a smile. "Maybe in summer. Alice's brother has a cottage near Blackpool."

"That would be lovely," Lily murmured. "So long as you're sure."

"Neville should be with his family now. Away from...from everything." Frank swallowed. "The whole world will be watching him. The boy who defeated Voldemort without so much as a spell. Fancy that."

It was at that point that Harry, having manoeuvred his father's wand from his pocket, began determinedly chewing on the end. James snatched it away with a grimace. "No. Not for eating."

Two fat tears formed at the corners of Harry's eyes, and Lily shot her husband a good-natured glare before taking him from the room to calm him down. James looked at Frank, shifting back and forth on his feet. "I really am sorry, Longbottom. If there's anything we can do, anything at all, you know..."

"I know," the older man sighed. "But you should probably head back to London. I imagine there's all manner of people hoping to see you."

James opened his mouth to argue but the expression on the other Auror's face was enough to pre-empt anything he might have said. Managing a wan smile, he bid Frank farewell.

***

Remus knew it was ridiculous to be nervous. It did help when Sirius entered the innocuous-looking teashop and his hands were twitching so much that he could barely handle the cup without spilling.

"Careful," he said, reaching forward to steady the drink. "You'll lose all of it otherwise. Although I think caffeine is the last thing you need."

"You would say that," Sirius parried, wrinkling his nose. It might almost have been normal, except that he lowered his eyes immediately. "Maybe tea's a better idea."

"Why don't I get it? That way you'll not ruin the floor."

It was just an excuse to look away, to be somewhere else even if only for a few moments. When he returned, Sirius' first cup was empty and one leg was jiggling up and down almost spasmodically. Remus sighed inwardly.

"Moony, I'm so sorry." The words startled him so much that he nearly dropped cup and saucer. Thankfully, he managed to set them down before sinking into the chair. Sirius was not looking at him yet. "For everything. I don't know how to explain it in any way that makes sense."

"Well, why don't you try?" Remus suggested coolly. It did occur to him that he'd suspected Sirius just as much as vice versa, but that really was beside the point. "Let's see how well you do."

Sirius bit his lip. "I knew what he'd offered...the werewolves. We all did. I thought you might be desperate."

"Desperate enough to betray my best friends, you mean?"

"Wormtail was, wasn't he?" Sirius shot back, anger darkening his voice. "At least that's what I wish. That he hadn't had any other choice, that they'd made him do it. I don't doubt that they have ways. But we won't know for certain."

The mention of Peter was enough to make Remus look away. "I didn't know about him, Sirius."

"I can't imagine how you could have done. I really am sorry, Moony. I had to believe something, and you were more plausible than Wormtail."

"So were you."

"Touché," he acknowledged with a faint smile. "Lily said the same thing to me. That I had more of a reason to turn to their side than you did."

"The prodigal son," Remus pointed out, with a small smile of his own. "Although with your family, I don't know what that's worth."

"Being stabbed in the back at the first sign that you might have made the wrong decision. I'd wager that's what happened to Reg." He took a sip of the now-lukewarm tea. "Somebody found out that he was trying to change sides and decided to bring his plans to a halt."

"Someone in your family?" Remus asked, his disbelief palpable.

"Not my mother. She'd rather kill herself than Reg. And not Narcissa either. No," he shook his head, "if it were anybody, it was Bellatrix. There was a time when loyalty to family meant something to her, but that vanished the day she met him."

"You mean Voldemort?"

Sirius nodded. "When we were younger, she was different. Still somewhat mad--all the Blacks are, really--but not the way she is now. She didn't come to the funeral; probably afraid the corpse might bleed or something."

"Thank you for that image," Remus muttered, shuddering. "At least they caught her, finally."

"About bloody time. If there's any justice in the world, she'll be off to Azkaban for the rest of her life." There was a vindictive sort of satisfaction in Sirius' voice, and Remus studied him with some wariness. "She's done...all kinds of horrible things, Moony. Trust me, she belongs there."

He nodded slowly. "And we can move on. Drive Prongs and Lily mad by spoiling Harry."

"It's what godfathers are meant to do, after all." Sirius' grin wiped away all traces of his previous anger. "Does this mean you might consider forgiving me?"

"It'll take time," Remus admitted slowly, "but I think I can, Padfoot."

***

A few days later found Sirius in a very different locale, gazing from the window at an expanse of grey, unable to quite discern the difference between sky and sea. Beside him, a remarkably lovely woman with hair several shades darker than Lily's fiddled with her handbag.

"I still can't really believe it, you know," he remarked out of the blue. "That he's gone. He'd been there for so long, after all."

"It's only been a few weeks," Andromeda Tonks replied with a shrug, apparently having given up on whatever it was she had been searching for. "People still need to get used to it."

"I don't know what I expected. I mean, we were always working toward this end, right, with the Order, and now...obviously, it's what we wanted to happen but it just feels...you know...different?" He shook his head. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"No, you aren't," she informed him. "But that's quite alright. I'm just glad to come out of hiding, personally. I liked that flat well enough, but I missed home."

"I imagine you must have done." Sirius' fingers twitched as he frowned. "Kreacher came to see me the other day. Can you believe that?"

"Kreacher? I thought he was literally attached to your mother. What did he have to say?"

"Mother wants to see me," he answered, unable to quite stifle the disbelieving laugh that provoked. "I think she's suddenly realised that I'm the only son she has."

"Are you going to see her, then?" Andromeda queried, head tilted to one side. "After everything that's happened?"

He shrugged. "I don't know yet. My first instinct was to say well, she's made her bed, let her lie in it, but...then I remember Reg and I wonder if maybe I ought to speak to her." Sirius shuddered. "Stupid little idiot. I still don't forgive him for that."

"You can't blame yourself, Sirius. It wasn't your fault. As you said, he was an idiot. Got in over his head and tried to get out the wrong way. I imagine it destroyed your mother, though."

"Enough to send her crawling back to me, evidently," Sirius observed acidly.

"You're all she has left, Sirius. She's lost everything." This was a new voice, from behind Andromeda, where a woman stood, clad in pale grey to match her eyes. Blonde hair was drawn back from her face in a chignon, not a single strand out of place. "Surely you could at least speak to her."

"'Cissa," he acknowledged with a crooked smile. "No Malfoy?"

She shook her head. "This is a family matter. The Ministry officials just arrived."

Narcissa started toward the door and Sirius hurried ahead to take her arm. "How're you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected. The Ministry has insisted upon searching the manor. They won't find anything." She drew the hood of her cloak over her hair as they stepped out into the rain. "You will speak to her, won't you?"

"To Mother?" He frowned. "She did disown me, 'Cissa, unless you've forgotten."

"I haven't. It was a mistake. I'm sure she's realised that by now." The Blacks were nothing if not politic. She did not say it aloud, but all three of them knew what she was thinking.

Some distance away, three grey-clad figures were being moved from what appeared to be a sort of armoured coach to a boat. Two were hunched over; the third, a woman, stood tall and proud.

"She looks as if she were going to a party, "Sirius said, nose wrinkling. "Why are we here again?"

"Because we're family," Narcissa told him, her tone implacable. "Because regardless of how we feel about her, we're blood kin. And that still means something."

Sirius squinted upward, ignoring the raindrops hitting his face. "Weather's awful. I'm leaving as soon as I can."

"Leaving?" That was Andromeda, glancing curiously at him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Prongs and Lily and Harry to Bermuda. Get them away from here for a week or so. Teach Harry how to swim, like a proper godfather should." He found himself smiling, unbidden. "Who else is going to teach him everything he needs to know?"

"Should we still be holding our breath for your having children of your own, or are you going to stick to mere godchildren?" Narcissa teased.

The smile faded from Sirius' face, and he stared downward at the figures in the boats, now slowly making their way into the open sea. Azkaban lay beyond the mists somewhere. "I don't know, 'Cissa. I just don't know."

"Alright," Andromeda interjected, hands on hips, "I remember there was a girl not too long ago. Dorcas...that was her name, wasn't it? If you've gone and broken up with her over something supremely silly..."

"She's dead." His voice was flat, emotionless. At Andromeda's indrawn breath, Sirius turned to her and shook his head shortly. "Don't say anything."

"You've been bottling this up for how long?" she demanded. "Sirius, you can't--"

"I'm dealing with it in my own way, do you understand that?" he shot back, the words harsher than he would have liked. "First her, then Reg. It's going to take time."

Narcissa, who had been silent through the entire exchange, nodded slowly. "I'm so very sorry, dearest. Truly, I am."

He managed a tight smile. "Thanks. At least Moony's speaking to me again." If that single awkward meeting counted. Though the knowledge that they had both suspected the other and had been played for fools did not help. "I still can't believe..." He hesitated, but the near-identical expressions of delicate curiosity on his cousins' faces forced him to go on. "Wormtail, you know. He was our friend. We'd known him for years. I told him to be Secret-Keeper for Prongs and Lily---have you any idea how guilty that makes me feel?"

"Sirius, you had no idea he was a Death Eater," Andromeda said softly.

"Of course I didn't! But I should have done. That's what friends do, isn't it? They know those sorts of things..." He shuddered. "I might have killed all three of them with that decision."

"But you didn't," Narcissa interrupted firmly. "And that is what matters, Sirius. You have to remember that."

"Did you know, 'Cissa?" His eyes fixed on her, unrelenting. "Had you seen him before?"

She did not look away. "At school, maybe. I don't even recall."

He smiled bitterly. "Not very noticeable, was he? I guess that was how he did it. Nobody suspected him, not even Moody, and he suspected everybody."

"I'm sure there was an explanation, Sirius--"

He cut Andromeda off with a sharp movement of his hand. "For betraying the Order? He'd have betrayed Prongs and Lily too, wouldn't he, if they'd given him the chance? Can you think of an explanation for that? Can you?"

She shook her head miserably. "I don't know, Sirius. We were all frightened." Even so, her gaze slid to Narcissa, who stared determinedly at the ocean. "Sometimes...it seems like there's no other way."

Sirius did not answer. The three of them watched in silence as the boat carrying Bellatrix vanished into the mist toward Azkaban.

He'd had an awful nightmare not too long before, the night after he had learnt of Wormtail's betrayal. That Wormtail had broken down, had given in to Bella. He had watched, trapped in the steel-like frame of his own thoughts, as his cousin tortured his best friend and his wife to the very brink of death. Prongs' eyes, glazed over and staring upward. Lily muttering gibberish under her breath. Sirius had finally forced himself to motion, lunging after Bella, screaming every curse in his vocabulary, forgivable and Unforgivable alike. You bitch, you fucking harpy, how could you---

He had awakened from a flash of green to find another in the hearth, wearing Prongs' face. "Oi, mate, you look like the walking dead."

"If my dream were anything to go by, I was," Sirius finally found the coherency to reply. "You're alright? Truly?"

His best friend was smiling. "Yeah. We're alright. Everything's going to be alright."