'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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'I'm sleeping in the river Drowning in this fatal moon I walk into all your motives See my world is getting cruel Put on my best Sunday dress And I walk straight into this mess of mine
No more that you come your friend No more seizures by the sea I walk this plank like a lullaby And no one throws rocks at me'
"We've been trying to get her down for a month, but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas — let's just say it's wouldn't be unlike her. Quick, let's get downstairs before they all wake up again. "
"Was she a... Death Eater?" Hera asked quietly, her eyes surveying the overly silver and green interior.
Sirius raised his eyebrows, barely restraining his laughter at her abruptness, "Not exactly... " He shook his head, "A keen supporter, though, "
Hera followed behind him as he led the way down a flight of narrow stone steps, the others just behind them, "Um — if you don't mind me asking, why's there a portrait of your Mother here?"
Sirius sighed deeply as he reached the final step, his hands gripping onto the bannisters to avoid the thick layer of dust and grime clinging to the wallpaper that glistened beside the oil lamps. It helped next to nothing living in his childhood home, especially after all these years and the awful memories he had of the place — not that anyone would ever know the half of it...
"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house, " his frown became more defined as he stared on, seemingly at nothing, "But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I've been able to do, really. "
Hera took notice of how hard and bitter Sirius's voice had become, but she also knew it was neither the time nor place to try and say anything comforting — she hardly knew the man. A momentary silence assumed as he led her and the others into the basement kitchen; the place had to have been abandoned for a long time, even the gloomy hall above had been much better lit.
Dozens of pots and pans hung from the rough stone walls that reminded her so much of those days she had spent with Ced in the Hogwarts kitchen — all that seemed so far from reach now...
