Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

4 November, 1981 - Falling (II)

Sirius didn't come back that day. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. His birthday passed with no celebration whatsoever and Lavinia simply stared at the present she had intended to give him, at the wedding ring in its little case that should have been around his finger, just as she still had a ring around hers. Paris returned that day, but Lavinia didn't bother sending him out again. The legal papers she'd intended to have him carry still sat on her desk, a constant tug on her thoughts, reminding her of the promises they'd both made. Promises that now seemed so far away and so worthless. Promises of forever that she suddenly realized neither of them could keep.

Every day that he was gone his absence was like a physical thing in the house, a phantom presence that kept sneaking into those few disjointed conversations Lavinia and Remus had attempted, amplifying the grief they already had. As if the awful silence left in the wake of Lily and James's passing wasn't enough pain to be getting on with.

"Give him time," Remus kept saying. "He needs time."

And Lavinia would have. Would have given him all the time in the world, would have let him stay away for as long as he needed. All she wanted was to know that he was alive. That was all she would have asked. All she would have needed. One tiny little bit of proof and she could weather this storm. Could weather any storm.

But proof that he was alive arrived on the fourth day after he had left and Lavinia decided that she had been wrong. She could not handle anything as long as he was alive. Because she could not handle this.

Proof came in the morning Prophet, which Remus had started getting delivered again as soon as they had gotten news of the Dark Lord's defeat, presumably to keep track of Death Eater arrests and the like. After all, they didn't really need to be in hiding anymore. The biggest threat was gone. And with James and Lily dead... there was no secret left to keep, even if Sirius had been there. Which, of course, he wasn't. So it was a moot point anyway.

When the paper came, Lavinia was sitting on the couch with a mug of coffee in her hands, as much of a breakfast as Remus had been able to convince her to have. She took the Prophet from the owl, tucked a few coins into his pouch and unfolded it. Right there on the front page, in big bold letters, was the worst headline Lavinia had ever read.

SIRIUS BLACK ARRESTED FOR MURDER OF 12 MUGGLES AND PETER PETTIGREW

The world slipped away. There was only those words. That ink that spelled out something that was wrong. That had to be wrong. This couldn't be real. None of this could be real. The world couldn't turn this upside down this quickly so this headline had to be wrong. It had to be.

The words of the article barely registered, but it didn't matter. She got the drift. Peter was dead. Sirius had killed him. Had betrayed James and Lily and killed him. Twelve innocent muggles were caught in the blast that took out nearly an entire block. And then Sirius had laughed.

Impossible. It was impossible. For multiple reasons.

Impossible.

Lavinia didn't care what the article said, didn't care about the evidence staring her in the face, she didn't believe for a second that Sirius would have sold out his best friend. And those thoughts she'd been having started to trickle back in, the pieces of some great puzzle falling into place and in some ways, it was worse. Worse to know the truth. Worse to know that he had lied.

Because Sirius had run at the news that Peter had abandoned his home, with no sign of a struggle and no broken enchantments. He had fled with fear and guilt in his eyes and he had said... had said...

Remember I love you.

Like he knew what he was about to do. Like he knew the price. Knew it would cost them both the forever they'd promised.