Astra || H. Potter [1]

[42] Knew It All Along

The next day after lunch Ophelia, Harry, Hermione, and the twins were upstairs when Molly began yelling about stolen goods. Her voice soon became lost among the new screams from the portraits in the bottom floors hall. George moved to shut the door to drown out the noise, but before he could, Kreacher edged into the room. "Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."

Kreacher's muttering was cut off as Fred shut the door with a snap and spoke loudly. "Hello, Kreacher" Kreacher froze in his tracks and stopped muttering, he looked up and faked a look of surprise. "Kreacher did not see Young Master." Kreacher said, he then turned around and bowed to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" George cut in. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," Kreacher said, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone. "And there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are." Kreacher walked further into the room. "And there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry." Ophelia shook her head with a roll of her eyes. "Kreacher." She warned. "Filthy, dirty, half breed, mutt. Bringing shame to Mistress's blood." Kreacher muttered more not knowing he would anger all of them.

"Don't call her that!" Shouted Harry, Ron, and the Twins angrily. "It doesn't matter, 'Phelia." Hermione assured her. "He's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's —" Kreacher looked at Hermione seemingly about to say something to her but Ophelia didn't give him the chance. "Kreacher! Say what you want about me but don't you dare say anything ill of my family or friends. I forbid you." Kreacher glared at Ophelia now, knowing as much as he didn't want to listen he had to.

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Ophelia was walking down the hall when she spotted Harry in one of the many old rooms. Backtracking, she entered the old dusty room and looked at the large wall he was studying. "Why're you on here 'Phe?" Harry asked as he looked from her name on the tapestry to her. "My mum was a Black, remember? It follows along to everyone. Dora's mum is on here somewhere too." Harry scanned the tapestry once more but failed to find either Sage or Sirius.

"Sirius and your mum aren't on here.." Harry trailed off quietly. "We used to be there." Both teens looked over at the door where Sirius now stood. Sirius walked further into the room and pointed to two small round charred holes. "Our sweet old mother blasted us off after we ran away from home...Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath." Harry looked up at Sirius shocked. "You ran away from home?" Sirius nodded. "When we were about sixteen"

"Where did you go?" Harry asked, staring at him. Sirius smiled faintly as Ophelia answered his question. "Mum and he went to your Dad's house." Sirius nodded again as he looked down at Harry fondly. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted us as a second son and daughter." Ophelia smiled softly as the stories Remus had told her growing up resurfaced in her mind.

"We camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when we were seventeen we got a place of our own--until Sage and Remus got a place together. Our Uncle Alphard had left us a decent bit of gold — he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why — anyway, after that, we looked after ourselves. We were always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though." Harry watched him hesitantly. "But...why did you...?"

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, dark hair. "Because we hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal....our idiot brother, soft enough to believe them...that's him." Sirius pointed to a name near the bottom of the tapestry 'Regulus Black' it read along with his birth date and day he died. "He was younger than, and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died." Harry concluded. "Yeah. Stupid idiot...he joined the Death Eaters." Harry looked at him in utter surprise. "You're kidding!" Ophelia nodded sadly. "You can tell just by looking around here what type of family the blacks were." Sirius nodded at her words, proving them. "Were — were your parent's Death Eaters as well?" Sirius shook his head at Harry's question. "No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge."

Ophelia sighed. "Part of the reason Walburga starts ranting when I walk past. She's said she's never been more disgusted than when I was born bringing dirt to her bloodline." Harry reached out for Ophelia's hand taking it in his own and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. Sirius smiled at the two of them, he was the first to suspect that they would end up together but when the prophecy came to light they all knew it was true. He happily teased Remus that he was right.

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Sirius is such a fangirl and no one can tell me other wise
~ A