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Tradition


The leaves in the courtyard at the foot of the Bell Towers were blown off the trees in heavy winds that came that week, and the four wand-wood trees were bare branched. The Marauders had replaced the leaves with bits of leaf-shaped parchment with notes written upon them (well, actually it was just Sirius, Peter, and James, as Remus refused to join in, warning them if he caught them at it he would give them a detention) (“No for real, Sirius, I will!” “Alright Moony, sure!”). The notes were mostly jokes and bits of exploding paper that would pop! in a little firework the moment somebody touched it. A Ravenclaw boy singed his eyebrows off picking one up that had a bit too much gusto on Thursday and although her lips twitched with amusement as the boy stood beside her covering his eyebrow-less forehead with his palms, Minnie still gave James and Sirius each detention (“But Wormtail was in on it too!” Sirius argued, but Minnie said she had a rather sneaking suspicion that Peter’s involvement was less helping and more watching in awe than Sirius was making it sound).

As the week progressed, Sirius was looking forward to the apparition classes beginning on the Saturday coming up and boastfully talking about them as frequently as anyone gave him reason to as he walked about the castle. Several seventh years were going to be in his class with him, it turned out - people who had missed the cut off for the Spring classes, mostly, but it included Frank Longbottom, who, although he’d made the age cut by a mere two days to take the prior Spring’s classes, had been made to wait by his mother. Sirius was excited about getting to take the classes with Frank - he’d been secretly sort of wondering if he ought not to wait until Spring to take them with James and Remus because he was sort of afraid of doing them by himself (not that he would’ve ever told the lads that, of course).

It was the day before the lessons were to begin, only a week before Sirius’s seventeenth birthday, when McGonagall came to interrupt Professor Urquart’s class.

She cleared her throat from the doorway, making Lily, James, Remus, and Sirius turn about in their seats as Urquart stopped talking and lowered the textbook he’d been reading aloud from. They were about to begin learning unspoken spell casting and Urquart was explaining to them the importance of intention and how to direct one’s magical energies without speaking the word of direction -- all very interesting things indeed, but less so than Minerva McGonagall interrupting a class.

“I apologize, Professor Urquart,” she said gently, “But I’ve come to collect one of your students.”

Lily’s face paled. Now who have I jinxed?

James’s heart seized. Is there something wrong with my dad?

Sirius looked at James. Charlus and Dora. Please let them be alright.

Remus looked around. I don’t want it to be any of us.

“Sirius Black,” McGonagall said, “Come with me.”

Everyone looked surprised. Sirius was the last one they’d expected to be called upon. After all, with his detachment from his family, the thought had never crossed his mind to worry for Walburga, but as he stod up, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that made it drop to his very toes. Remus grabbed his hand and squeezed as Sirius passed him and Sirius’s fingers squeezed back before they slid away from Remus’s grasp. He walked through the rows of empty desks, beneath the baby dragon skeleton and, with a glance back at the other three, followed McGonagall into the hallway.

“Thank you, you may continue your lesson Professor,” McGonagall said, bowing out of the room with Sirius and pulling the door shut behind her.

Sirius looked wary. “Is it Mother, Minnie?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Black. Come along.”

Sirius said, “Well who then? I don’t understand.”

“Sirius, just come with me to my office, please.” She led the way down the corridor and Sirius followed, watching the way her robes flashed about her ankles as she walked. He tried desperately to think of some situation that would have led to Minerva McGonagall drawing him from a classroom to visit her office and the only things he could come up with was somebody dying or else some trouble he was in.

“Minnie, I swear I haven’t pulled any pranks,” he said suddenly. He’d been trying to think if there was something he and James had got into that might’ve caused it. “I solemnly swear I’ve been up to nothing but good.”

“While I find that very hard to believe, Mr. Black, that is not why you are here.” She reached for the handle of her door.

“Is my brother okay?” Sirius asked, realizing suddenly that he hadn’t seen much of Regulus about the castle - though it wasn’t common to see him at the Slytherin dinner table anymore and Sirius worried a bit on whether Regulus was eating properly whenever he noticed Regulus missing.

“Yes, Mr. Black, Regulus is fine.

As they stepped through the door of the office, Sirius asked, “Well, what then?”

“You’ve got visitors,” McGonagall replied. “That’s what.”
With a wave of her palm, she indicated the little desk in the back of the room where she usually had he and James sit during detentions… and at the desk sat Charlus and Dora Potter.

“Mr. and Mrs. P!” Sirius said in surprise and he ran over to give them each a big hug as McGonagall closed the door and locked it behind them. Sirius had pressed himself between them - one arm over Charlus, one arm over Dora - and he pulled them into him for a hug. Dora squeezed him about the chest as Charlus thumped his back. “Why are you lot here for?” he asked, “And - Professor, shouldn’t we have gotten James as well?”

“We’ll visit with James after,” Charlus said, shaking his head to answer for McGonagall. “We came to see you.”

Sirius looked at Charlus. “You came… to see me?” he tilted his head in surprise. Then he realized... “Mr. P, did you get my owl?” A thrill of excitement lit up his face.

Charlus looked at Dora and she drew a deep breath. “We got both your owls, Sirius.”

“Both my owls? I only sent you one.” His brow furrowed in confusion.

Charlus shook his head, “No, Sirius. You sent one to me and you sent the other to… to Mia.”

Sirius’s face was concerned. “But how did my owl to Mia end up going to you?”

Dora held out her hand for Sirius’s and held it. She stared at him for a long moment. “It’s your birthday next week, I know, and I know this is a bit early, but…” She held onto his hand with one of hers, and with the other, she reached into her robes and she drew out a pocket watch on a thick chain of silver and gold. It was glass, with silver roman numerals that appeared to float within the dark silver frame and in the center were exposed gold clockwork pieces, ticking, rotating, about fast and slow and moving gold hands around the numbers. She turned over the hand she was holding and placed the heavy watch into his palm.

“It’s tradition,” Dora said, “To give a wizard a watch for his seventeenth birthday.”

Sirius stared at it with wide eyes, and he turned it so he could see the edge of the watch’s frame, which was engraved with the same words over and over again... Soyez TOUJOURS PUR de cœur. And there was the crest of the Noble House of Black, separating the three instances of the phrase that surrounded the edge of the watch face. He looked up in confusion.

“But this is a Black family heirloom,” he said, “How did you --?” he stopped.

“It was my father’s,” Dora said.

Sirius stared at her. “You’re Mia Black?” he whispered.

Dora’s eyes searched his, “Yes,” she said quietly.

“But… but you’re - your name is - it’s Dora, it’s not -- how --” He looked at Charlus, then back to -- Dora? Mia? -- “How?”

Charlus leaned forward. “Let us tell you a story, Sirius.”




It was May of 1954.

Mia Black sat in her bedroom, on the bench of her vanity, staring into the mirror at herself. Her black, curly hair swept into a tight, frigid bun, a barrette with a small bit of white lace hung hung over one eye, her corset tied so harshly that when she breathed, she felt as though all the air was stuck behind her collarbone, unable to go any further into her chest, and her bodice heaved with with the great, noiseless sobs she was making. She clutched the vanity table and looked over at the dress, propped up in the corner - a horribly ugly dress - a black and green thing, adorned with beads, that generations of Black women had worn to their weddings… Tradition.

She felt so restless. Mia got up, dragging her long, painted-black fingernails across the top of the vanity table, and, tears pouring over her face, streaking the eyeliner her mother had already applied twice and would need to apply again, she stood by the window’s frame and looked down into the yard. Far below her window, she could see the rows of stiff backed chairs and the small podium, decorated with traditional violets and white roses, strung along the frame of a bowed archway. There stood the Ministry Official who would perform the union and a few steps away was Orion, talking to a few of the cousins, his tuxedo tight to his thick form, his hair freshly cut, his face adorned with that horrid mustache she so loathed. He was smoking a pipe and laughing in a distinguished way, one hand in his time piece pocket of the green vest.

She had been promised to Orion Black since the day she was born - the next two cousins meant to carry on the family bloodlines.

Mia turned away from the window, her eyes clouded with tears. She couldn’t bare to look at him. Not now, not ever. And yet look at him she would, look at him for the rest of her life if she didn’t find a way out. But they would kill her. They would come after her, and the Blacks, they would find her, and when they did, they would kill her. She trembled, and fear poured in the form of a cold sweat from beneath her arms and across her back…

If only there was a way to escape. If only there was somebody who would save her...

Suddenly the door behind her opened and closed, though there was not a soul there. She blinked in confusion at the empty room.

And suddenly…

Invisibility cloak off, there was Fleamont Charlus Potter.

Mia’s jaw dropped. “Flea… what are you doing?”

“I’m here for you,” he answered, and he threw the cloak into a rucksack that hung at his hip, shoving it down into the depths. Charlus walked across the room. “I’m sorry I’ve been an idiot. I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. I spoke to Minnie though and she told me -- about this -- this rubbish --” he waved his arms about, indicating the wedding, ”-- and I can’t let you do it, Mia.”

Mia was shaking. “You shouldn’t be here, they’ll kill us both if they find you here.”

Charlus walked up to her, embraced her, stared into her eyes and he whispered, “I’d rather die, Euphemia Black, than live even another moment without you. And if it means I have to bloody save you from this nest of snakes, then rescue you I shall.” He stepped back and stared at her there in her undergarments and he flushed, but his eyes travelled back up to meet hers. “Get dressed, love, we don’t have long before they’ll find I’m here. Come along.”

Her heart skipped when he said the words.

He held out his hand.

And Euphemia Black took it.

And they ran away.

There was a terrible battle, a great fight in the yard as they escaped, sparks and magic had flown all around, and Fleamont Charlus Potter would always carry the scar on his shoulder from a spell that struck him as they raced away on his broomstick, Charlus hugging Mia to himself tightly to keep her from falling - “a scar is a small price to pay,” he would say when she mended it and fretted over the mark it would leave .

And because they knew that Orion Black would search for her -- they changed her name, to hide her, to protect her, to keep her safe… It was a nickname that Charlus had called her in school - Dora (as in “you are adorable, Miss Black”).

To protect her, all records of Mia Black were carefully cleaned away by dutiful friends.

The Yule Ball photo in the yearbook that Sirius had found was the only one that Minerva McGonagall had left behind. One small secret photo that she had thought would go forever unnoticed, just one spared picture so that she could visit to see her two best friends when she wished to…

As far as the world knew, as far as the Black family knew, Euphemia Black was gone, blasted from the family tree - although Orion had solemnly vowed to kill her and the man who stole her away should he ever find her… And a year later, Orion would settle for another cousin, Walburga, whose original betrothal had been to a man who was blasted from the family tree and since they were both on the verge of being shamed for failing to reproduce and carry on the family line in the proper manner, their new arrangements were made and Walburga and Orion Black were united out of necessity… and on 3 November, 1959, they did carry on that Black Family Line...

But in the quiet of Godric’s Hollow, on a lovely June day, surrounded by only the few friends that could be trusted to keep their secret, dressed in a white dress with buttons down the back and surrounded by heather and daisies, a girl known simply as Dora was be married to a man who hid beneath his middle name as well - Charlus Potter.