ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 49: Gone

Blackshire

Sirius Black was lounging in Alphard's armchair in his office while Nymphadora Tonks tried to bite his ear with sharpened teeth. Their laughing made Beata gloomier with every second.

She always sincerely believed that Black and the children are like her and the children. She didn't understand what you can talk about with kids, what can you play with them if you can't even drink with them and even more so she couldn't have thought Black had succeeded so much in all this. So, Black was better than her at something.

"Why is Aunt Beata so sad?" Nymphadora asked.

"She's hungry, I guess," Black replied with a chuckle.

Nymphadora sat on his lap with funny short pigtails and constantly turned her head back and forth. She looked like a rebellious flame trying to escape from foreign fingers, but Black held her securely, looking thrilled.

Beata didn't notice when an unbearable creature jumped off Black's knees, approached her close and confidently crawled alongside on the sofa. Therefore, when Nymphadora's trunk blew in Beata's ear, she flew to the floor, yelling and waving her hands furiously.

Sirius laughed like a madman, Nymphadora echoed him with a ringing laugh and only Beata felt deeply offended.

"I'm not as small as you think," Dora finally said in a very serious, calm tone.

"And not that stupid?" Beata asked serenely, Black only lifted his eyebrows.

"Absolutely not," Dora shook her head. "I'll be the best thing in your life."

Beata stared dumbfounded at her, "What about your uncle? He always tells me he's the best thing in my life."

"He was, I will be," Dora reflected thoughtfully, looking from Sirius to Beata. "I think you must decide for yourself. But, if I were you, I wouldn't have bet on him."

Black gasped.

"Actually, I agree," Beata nodded.

"I knew," he sighed, "I shouldn't have introduced you to her. A woman's heart is so fickle..."

Nymphadora giggled, rushed at Beata and knocked her on the floor. A small fight ensued, in which there was no clear winner: the ability of a metamorph against the abilities of a natural sorcerer.

The trio didn't immediately notice Andromeda standing in the doorway and observing the scuffle. She smiled lightly, small wrinkles crossing her forehead.

"It's time for bed, Nymphadora," she breathed.

"Don't call me Nymphadora!"

Beata snorted. "We can call you Tonks."

"Fine by me," Dora said. "From now on, call me only like that. And if someone calls me otherwise..."

Andromeda rolled her eyes, easily picked up her daughter in her arms and winked at Sirius, leaving the room.

"It's not that bad, right?" Black collapsed in an armchair, throwing one leg on the armrest, and with a lazy smile watching Beata.

"Can one be afraid of something after communication with you?"

"You don't know my mother," he retorted.

"I bet poor thing had a hard time with you. The holy woman, you bad-mouthing her."

Black gave a barking laugh and leaned back in his chair, absently tapping the rhythm of a famous song on the armrest.

"Do you like this table?" he asked, waving his hand towards the beautiful oak structure, littered with incomprehensible magical devices.