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A Reflection on the House of Black


Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Sirius stirred, but did not awaken.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

“Oi somebody let that bloody bird in the window already,” groaned James’s voice from beneath the depths of the blankets and pillows that covered him.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

“It’s Sirius’s bloody bird,” moaned Peter.

“Bloody hell Sirius, answer your owl,” James commanded sleepily.

Sirius’s face was firmly planted in his pillow. “I haven’t got an owl, who would send me an owl?”

“Dunno but that isn’t Bubo, he raps with his beak not his talons,” James replied, pulling his own pillow over his head.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick --

“ALRIGHT! Alright. I’m up. I’m up.” Sirius rolled off the bed, landing on his feet, and stood up and stumbled to the window, reaching for the latch to allow the owl to hop through. To his surprise, the boys were right and it was his owl - or at least his family’s. Adolf, they called him. The owl pushed the letter into Sirius’s hand and, without waiting for payment or treats, turned and flapped off over the forest, back toward London. Sirius looked down at the letter in shock.

James sat up. “Who’s it - it from, then?” He asked, yawning.

Sirius looked up, the awe on his face quite apparent. “My mum.”

“Your mum?” James asked, understanding the significance of Sirius’s mum writing him at school. “But… but why?”

“Dunno, I haven’t opened it yet, have I?” Sirius said, turning it over. The back of the envelope was sealed with an unbroken seal, pressed by the ornate signet ring his mother always wore, which bore the Black family crest.

Even Peter was interested now, looking over James’s shoulder from his own bed. “Go on then,” he urged. “Open it.”

Sirius took a deep breath and slid his finger beneath the seal, pulling open the envelope and withdrawing a folded bit of parchment from within, which he shook out to see his mother’s tight script scrawling across the page in a single line. A lump rose in his throat as he stared down at the words she had written.

“What’d she say?” Peter asked, leaning onto James’s bed now in an attempt to see better.

“Sirius? You alright, mate?” James asked, concerned as Sirius’s face paled considerably. Sirius mutely handed the note over to James and stumbled back to sit on the edge of his bed. James turned the note over and looked down at the words on the page.

Remember everything you do is a reflection on the House of Black.” Peter looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked stupidly.

Sirius looked up slowly. “It means she knows about the mirror. And she’s not happy about it,” he added.

James looked nervous. “How’s she know?” Asked Peter.

Sirius bit his lip, afraid to say the only answer he could think of.

“Because You-Know-Who knows,” James filled in, reading the words in Sirius’s eyes.

Sirius nodded.

Peter’s eyes widened. “But - but he must be angry if he knows.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, glancing toward the mirror across the room. “I imagine he is.”

James’s eyes trailed Sirius’s to the mirror. It sat on Remus’s desk, dark and still. Peter trembled, kneeling now on the side of James’s bed. “But if the Dark Lord is angry with us… that’s - that’s very, very bad. Isn’t it?”

James looked at Peter. “No, it’s just brilliant,” he said sarcastically, “Having the most powerful dark wizard in all the world after you is a jolly good time.” He rolled his eyes, “Bloody hell, Peter, what kind of a question is that?”

Peter’s ears turned pink.

James looked at Sirius. “So now what do we do, mate?”

Sirius shook his head, “Dunno.”

“We should tell Dumbledore at once!” Peter squeaked, “Dumbledore can protect us from the Dark Lord!” He leaped up from James’s bed and ran over to Remus’s desk, grabbing hold of the mirror’s frame, about to pick it up, but before he could, Sirius was there, and he pulled Peter off of it.

“No!” He said, eyes wild, “No. If we tell Dumbledore now, my mother’s going to know that it was me that told him and I’m going to get in even bigger trouble. I could end up killed.” Sirius’s voice trembled.

“We have to tell Dumbledore!” Argued Peter, “We’re just kids, what’re we supposed to do to protect ourselves? We can’t even get our Charms homework done with highest marks - we’d be useless against the Dark Lord’s power!”

Sirius said, “But I am the only one that has to go home this summer to it. You’ll go off to your home with your parents who love you and will protect you and so will James and Remus. But I have to go home to my family who just loves You-Know-Who. My mother’s likely to blast me to smithereens if I go to Dumbledore! He can’t protect me after term - only here.”

James stood up to back Sirius up. “We need to listen to Sirius, mate, he has most experience with this lot,” he said somberly.

Peter shook. “But - but -”

“Look, my mother may think it’s only me who’s messed with the mirror anyway. You lot might not even be included in this at all,” Sirius said, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

“As you should!” Peter shouted, suddenly angry, “It was your idea to go down to the dungeons and steal the mirror in the first place! I didn’t want to go! I should’ve listened to Remus. Remus said it was a terrible idea and we did it anyway! Remus is the smart one, not you. Blimey, what a terrible idea it was, going and thieving things we don’t understand!”

“Actually it was my idea,” James pointed out, “And maybe you shouldn’t have come along, you blithering baby.”

Peter snapped, “I’m not a baby - I just like my neck not wrung, thank you!”

“Well go on then and keep your pretty neck then,” Sirius said roughly, shoving Peter away from the desk, away from the mirror, away from him and James, “You can clear off and find new friends.”

“Maybe I will!” Peter crowed. He turned and grabbed his wand from the floor by the end of his bed, where it had fallen the night before when they fell asleep, and stormed out of the room. His wrinkled robes caught in the door as he slammed it and he reopened it, scowling at the other two boys to free himself, then slammed the door a second time and blundered on down the stairs.

He was so angry that he tripped and fell down the last couple of steps, his fall broken by Frank Longbottom, who caught Peter and uprighted him. “Watch where you’re going, Pettigrew,” Frank said with a chuckle, “There’s enough Gryffindors in the hospital wing already without adding you on.”

Despite his anger, Peter couldn’t help but be curious. “Who’s in the hospital wing?”

“Bilius Weasley,” Frank said, “Didn’t you see what happened last night?” Peter’s clueless face told him the answer. “Blimey, Peter. You should’ve seen it. Lucius Malfoy attacked Bilius in cold blood down in the entrance hall! I thought everyone saw it - it was just after dinner, you know.”

“We didn’t go to dinner,” Peter answered, “We had homework.”

“Didn’t go to dinner? You?” Frank playfully poked Peter in the middle, “I didn’t think you’d ever missed a dinner in your life!”

Peter scowled. “Well I have, which is why I was in such a rush to get to breakfast. Good bye.” He stepped around Frank Longbottom and quickly hastened toward the portrait hole and down the corridor.

“Wait up, Peter!” He turned around and saw Lily Evans rushing after him, her ginger hair fluttering over her shoulder. “Wait. I need to talk to you!”
“What do you want?” He asked as she came to a stop before him.

Lily’s eyes were wide with concern. “You heard about Bilius Weasley?” She asked.

“Only just,” he replied, “Frank Longbottom told me.”

“Lucius attacked him,” she whispered, as though Peter hadn’t just said he knew, “And I’ve been downstairs and I talked to my friend Severus Snape. He’s great friends with Lucius, you know, and he says that Lucius was upset because Bilius likely had stolen something from him and that’s why they were in a fight.” Lily leaned closer, looking about to be sure nobody was coming, and lowered her voice to barely a breath. “Peter, was that bit of mirror we stole yesterday Lucius’s?”

Peter thought on it for a moment, twitching. He stared up at Lily quite nervously. This, he realized, was his way out. This was how he could tell Dumbledore without actually being the one who told Dumbledore. Lily had threatened several times the day before to go to Dumbledore if the boys didn’t - they’d never suspect that Peter had helped her along and this way he could go on back to them and apologize and not lose the only friends at Hogwarts he had… but still gain the protection that Dumbledore’s knowledge of the mirror would undoubtedly offer. He rubbed his little hands nervously. “Yes,” he squeaked, “Yes, yes I think it was. I can’t believe Lucius has blamed Bilius Weasley, he didn’t have a thing to do with it, it was all Potter’s idea,” he added, hoping that James would get into extra trouble, too, as revenge for having called him a blithering baby.

“Oh of course it was, I’m not surprised at all. Arrogant git that he is, wanting a mirror - probably to stare at himself.” She rolled her eyes, then paused and said accusingly, “But Sirius insisted you were going to tell Dumbledore about the mirror. Was that a lie just to keep me from telling him?”

Peter cowered and tried very hard to look ashamed, to allow her to assume that was true.

Lily’s jaw stiffened with anger.

“I’m sorry,” simpered Peter, “So very sorry. Don’t tell. Please.”

“Bilius Weasley is hurt and it’s all our fault,” snapped Lily, “I’m telling Dumbledore and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me!” Quickly, she shoved past Peter and rushed off down the hall, simply livid.

Peter watched her go, and slowly stood upright, allowing the act he’d put on fade off his countenance and grinning. With that taken care of, he turned and rushed back to the common room and up to the dorm where James and Sirius were in the middle of burying the mirror in the very bottom of Sirius’s trunk, where it would be safe. He burst through the door and both of the boys looked up, surprised at his boisterous return. Peter was gasping from having run up the stairs, which added to the look of panic he’d plastered upon his face.

“What’s the matter with you?” James asked sourly.

“Lily Evans,” Peter gasped, “I told her not to - but she’s didn’t listen - I - I tried to stop her - but -”

Sirius looked up, “But what? Stop her from what?”

“She’s going to tell Dumbledore,” Peter gasped.