Azkaban

The Black Tree

Everyone follows Amarea's orders, filing into another room with a tapestry on the wall. It was immensely old, faded, and looked as though doxies has gnawed it in places. Through everything, the embroidered golden thread still glittered brightly enough to show a family tree dating back to around the Middle Ages.

Amarea turned to see Harry studying it. "You're not on here," he says to Sirius.

"I used to be there," Sirius says, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home; Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius, nodding. "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go," Harry asks, staring at him intently.

Sirius looks at Amarea, choosing his next words carefully. "Here and there. Eventually, I turned up at your Dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard has left me a decent bit of gold...he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why...anyway, after that, I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. And Mrs. Potter's house for Sunday lunch, though."

Amarea listens to him explain his past, why he left, and his brother Regulus Black. Though she had never gotten as close to Regulus as she had to Sirius, they had still been friends. It had pained her when he died; she still didn't believe it fully.

"But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first," Sirius concludes.

"Was he killed by an Auror?"

"Oh no," Sirius says. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or, on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he dies, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"You should all do well to remember that if you ever fight any Deatheaters. Not all of them wish to be there; don't judge someone so fast," Amarea says slowly, looking at the group.

"But they chose to be there in the first place, it's their fault," Harry replies like he was bewildered that Amarea would say such a thing.

"Harry, anyone can be deceived. Just because you choose something, doesn't mean that you won't regret it later. Besides, not everyone wants to join in the first place. You would join, wouldn't you? If they threatened Ron or Hermione. What about if they were going to kill Sirius? You never know."

The unsettling silence in the room is broken by Hermione, "Who's that?" She's pointing at a picture of a woman, between Sirius and Regulus. "She's not attached, she's all by herself. And it's in...Latin?"

"Ummm...." There's a silent moment before Sirius responds, "That's just someone who used to stay with us sometimes while we were at Hogwarts. Mother loved her, so that's why she's there. A family friend."

"So she's still alive," George asks? "You went to school together."

Sirius hums, clearly ending the conversation there.

"Lunch," Mrs. Weasley's voice breaks them all out of their trance. Harry and Sirius are the only ones who remain still, apart from Amarea.

Amarea stared at the portrait of the girl, the one with the Latin name, Amare Aeternum. Underneath that were the words, Imperatrix Draco. The girl seemed to be staring back at Amarea, studying her and trying to find the inner makings of her soul. Tearing her eyes away from the picture, she walks out of the room, shutting the door harder than she meant to.

Amarea didn't want to look at herself anymore.

Especially that version.