SHE'S ALL THAT ➭ SIRIUS BLACK ❨2❩ ✔︎

ACT FIVE, SCENE THIRTEEN

FONTAINE MANOR/SAINT-VERAN, FRANCE

When Sage Fontaine asked Petunia Dursley to switch custody with her, so Sage could have an entire month with Harry, the older woman didn't put up any sort of argument. She replied to Sage's text with a simple Fine and didn't say anything more on the matter.

With Petunia's permission, Sage planned a vacation for her, Harry, Sirius, Anna-Lee, Noah, and Madeleine. She pitched various destinations at their family dinner, and places like the states, France, Greece, and even Japan were considered.

Ultimately, however, since the majority of them had never seen Sage's hometown, they all decided on France.

"Harry, are you all packed? Portkey's leaving in ten!" Sage shouted from the kitchen, where a pile of their bags was growing increasingly taller with every member of the family that dropped off their luggage.

Harry came barreling down the stairs, a large duffle bag in his hands. "Ready!" He exclaimed.

The two children were all set to go, staring at the rusted shovel that sat on the kitchen table.

"Is that a Portkey?" Madeleine asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Sage nodded quickly, too busy sorting all of their things to give a complete answer. "Sirius, let's go! We're waiting on you!"

"Godric, baby. You sound like a real mum." Sirius was suddenly behind her, kissing the side of her neck.

She swatted at his head and stifled a laugh. "Not in front of the kids, pervert." She said, still trying her hardest not to laugh and therefore encourage him. She pushed him away before looking at him right in the eye. "If you aren't packed, I'll leave you in England and take the children, Noah, and Anna-Lee on vacation without you."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm ready when you are. Just don't kill me."

"I'd sooner poison you in your sleep." She said with a wicked grin. "Everyone in the kitchen in two minutes or less, or the Portkey will leave without you!" She shouted, crossing her arms and tapping her foot until the rest of the family had filed into a line in front of her.

The six of them circled around the kitchen table, each with their own bag in their hand, and with their free hand, they grabbed the Portkey in unison.

A second later, and they were gone, disappearing into thin air.

When they landed, they were in the front yard of the ancestral estate of the Fontaine family, where Sage, Julien, their father and uncle, and even their grandmother had been born.

The house was massive, larger than the Fontaine home in England by at least ten thousand square feet. It was surrounded by acres of untouched land, right on the edge of the village, and at the beginning of the summer season, the flowers that had bloomed in the spring were at full brightness.

"You live here?" Harry asked, eyes as wide as saucers. He couldn't seem to fathom the vast size of the property before him.

Sage squinted in the bright sunlight. "I used to. I was born here. This is where I grew up—spent the first, I dunno, nine or so years of my life in this place. My brother and I used to play all around the house." She replied, not quite smiling.

Something about being back was bittersweet. Although the house was still in her Uncle Dante's name, he'd kept almost everything the same in the interior of the house, from Sage and Julien's childhood bedrooms, to the family portraits on the walls, to even the fine china Andre and Adele used on special occasions.

She wasn't sure how she'd feel when she got inside. Would the memories of Julien in his childhood, when he was still happy and vibrant and alive, come flooding back from the moment she stepped through the door?

Harry's voice broke her out of her thoughts: "You have a brother?"

She was taken aback. "I...I did. He died when I was your age." She replied, voice soft and far-away.

Sirius looped his arm around her shoulders and did the same to Harry. "Let's go inside, yeah?"

She was thankful for Sirius in times like these, when he saw her discomfort before she could even see it for herself, and he stepped in to save her.

The skeleton key slid easily into the lock, and the door opened without even a creak of old hinges. Whatever Dante did to maintain the house was clearly doing its job.

The six of them went in different directions, Harry and Madeleine off to pick whichever bedrooms they wanted, Noah and Anna-Lee in search of the library that Sage had so highly spoken about; Sage and Sirius stayed in the foyer, simply marveling at the magnificence of the house.

Sirius's eye was immediately caught on the painting that hung above the grand staircase.

It was a portrait of the entire family, back when they were all happy, healthy, and whole: Andre and Adele stood tall and proud in the painting, smiling coldly in a way that didn't reach their eyes; Sage, seven years old, grinned widely and showed off a missing front tooth; she had Julien's arm around her shoulder, and he was beaming so brightly that the sun must have been overshadowed every single time he smiled.

Sage was frozen in place at the mere sight of the painting, arms wrapped around herself. The last time she'd been back in France, for her mother's funeral, over a decade ago, she hadn't visited the old Fontaine house. No, she'd briefly stopped at her parents' house in Paris, where the Minister for Magic lived.

She hadn't seen her father since then, when he'd kicked her out of the funeral, even though the manager of the Fontaine estate had assured her that Andre Fontaine wanted his only living child there.

She didn't even know if the man was still alive.

"Sage?"

She looked up at Sirius. "Sorry. I was thinking about my parents." She said, breaking out of the paralyzing gazes of her family's eyes in the painting.

"Come on, I want to show you my old room."