Chapter Text
London, 1717
It wasn’t the first time Sirius Black had wished he had woken up dead. But this time he had wished it even more than usual and still he was once again staring at the green canopy hung over his four-poster bed, the same ugly colour his mother had had put there instead of the red he had asked for as a kid.
The London mansion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was still silent, and Sirius guessed he had woken up at daybreak once again, like he had been doing those past days, each morning with another suitcase filled and closed and placed on the floor, in an increasingly anxiety-inducing pile of stuff. He had always thought he would feel so much joy the day he would finally leave his parents’ ancestral home that he would wake up one morning barely able to refrain from running away in his dressing gown, his favourite riding habit on his arm. And then the day had come and he had hoped to be dead.
To be fair, he tried to reason with himself, he had always thought he would run away, or just leave to finally lead a life that was completely his own. He had had a taste of it during his days at the university of Oxford, because of course the future Duke of Astoria had to have the best education the country and his parents’ money could afford, and had never wanted to come back. Those years had given him freedom, joy, bad decisions and an endless supply of classmates with whom to flirt (cautiously of course, he still didn’t want to think about the kind of punishment he would end up with should lord Orion Black find out his own son, his heir, was a deviant). And of course, Oxford had given him James. His best friend, his ride or die, his chosen brother. But then those years had ended and he had somehow found himself back in the Black mansion, back with his parents’ claws in him, back to defying them and being punished for it despite being now a man, back to looking at his younger brother Regulus, quiet and silent in a corner and feeling somehow happy that the riding crop would hit his scarred back once again instead of Regulus’s soft skin. He took his revenge in small ways, haunting the gentlemen’s gambling dens (the House of Black had enough money to lose after all), the bars and taverns and systematically ruining every chaperoned encounter his mother arranged with suitable young ladies.
That was the best part. Lady Walburga Black, with her twisted ideas of being sole ruler of London’s upper class after the King, was picky enough so that the girls she found suitable for marriage with the Black heir were only a handful and the meetings she arranged with them and their overeager mamas were few and very distanced in time, only for Sirius to show up hangover, reeking of a cheap perfume very praised by the prostitutes of the city (he kept a bottle of it in one of the drawers in his bedroom for that very purpose) or just plainly rude and with none of the gentlemanly graces he was supposed to have. Not even the promise of the wealth and title of the Black family convinced the mothers of those girls to agree to a match and Walburga would be left seething and spitting every possible insult her noble rank allowed her to hurl at her son’s head. Then inevitably Orion would hear of it at the club from the daughters’ fathers and would come home to reacquaint his heir with his fist, leaving Sirius to stagger out of the house and turn up on the doorstep of James’s bachelor pad where he would find a kind word, medications of the bandage and liquid kind and a laugh at what he had come up with this time to make the girl and her mother flee from lady Black’s high tea and cucumber sandwiches.
“That poor girl,” James would inevitably say, finishing wiping blood from Sirius’s lips or applying pomade on his black eye.
“Hey, I did her a favour,” Sirius would inevitably protest. “I would be much more versed in the husband department rather that in the wife one, you know that!”
“And to think your parents count on you to continue their noble line,” James would snort, remembering all the mornings he had woken up in their shared dormitory in Oxford only to catch one of their classmates quietly walking towards the door of the common area between his and Sirius’s bedrooms, buckling his trousers or rearranging his tie.
“They have a spare,” Sirius would shrug. “It’s either that or the bloodline dies with me.”
Now that he thought about all those ruined teas, he should have guessed his mother would not stop at that. And she hadn’t. Sirius shivered under the covers remembering the cold look she had given him, standing straight behind Orion’s high backed chair, when lord Black had summoned Sirius in his office now three weeks ago.
*
Sirius had been basically marched into his father’s office by the mansion’s butler, Mr Kreacher, a small man so devoted to his mistress Sirius was sure that on the day of Walburga’s death, should he still be alive, he would probably fling himself in the grave to continue serving her even in death. That of course meant he hated Sirius’s guts and made no secret of it. Once in the presence of his parents, after the butler had silently closed the double doors, Sirius had put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, relishing in the wince his mother couldn’t hide at this irreverent conduct. Orion had instead looked his son up and down with his usual disapproving stare before speaking.
“Sirius, you are the heir to this noble house, and the future Duke of Astoria,” he started, marking a pause as if he expected Sirius to show how honoured he felt by his birthright. When Sirius simply stared at him, he went on. “As such, you’re expected to marry and continue our bloodline. And since the previous efforts your devoted mother has made to find you a wife have failed, I’m announcing today that in a little less than three months you will be married.”
“Married?” Sirius snorted. “And to whom, father?”
Orion’s face split in a smile that ended up being only more terrifying than his usual scowl.
“It was a mistake to think any of the ladies in our present high society here in London would suit the Black heir,” he said slowly. “So your mother found the solution: you will be wed to someone we already know is perfect to carry on the legacy of this family. It will be a perfect match for the bloodline.”
He marked another pause which gave Sirius the time to realise that this was actually very bad. His parents had come up with a solution and he was sensing it would be hard to escape .
“Start packing your things,” Orion went on. “You will be leaving at the end of the month for the Caribbean.”
Sirius blinked, as if his father had gone crazy all of a sudden. Well, crazier that what generations of inbreeding had already done.
“The Caribbean?” he repeated.
“Exactly. As you well know, your uncle Cygnus and his family have established themselves in Port Royal following his appointment as governor of the colony. I hear they are adding to the family fortune and I’m certain they are all showing those savage lands what elite people look like.”
Sirius then corrected his previous thought: this was very, very bad.
“You will join them and marry your cousin Narcissa upon arrival,” the blow came from Orion’s cold voice.
“Narcissa?” Sirius said, his mind sending him an image of a tall blonde with a permanent sneer on her face at some family function before she had followed her father and mother to the other side of the globe.
“I wanted Bellatrix for you,” Walburga interjected. “She has a strong character, she would have tamed all your… flaws,” like her husband, she marked a pause which had the immediate effect of making Sirius wonder if his latest night with some handsome barman or music hall magician had finally been discovered. But then she went on. “Unfortunately, when I inquired for her my brother wrote me she has just married Cygnus’s right-hand man, so Narcissa was the final choice.”
Sirius swallowed. The idea of marrying Narcissa was a nightmare, but honestly marrying Bellatrix would have been so much worse. He remembered her sneaking out of one of those Black family banquets only to end up in the garden scientifically checking how many times an ant can be stabbed by a needle before it stops moving. He opened his mouth to say something, but his father started talking again.
“A ship leaves from the London docks in three weeks, you have a cabin reserved. And to make sure you arrive to your uncle’s house safe and sound,” Orion’s voice had a sarcastic undertone, “you will be chaperoned by my personal secretary.”
A movement in the corner of his eye made Sirius focus on a dark part of his father’s office and he noticed only then the man standing there, his pointed beard hanging from his equally pointed chin.
“Mr Karkaroff will be there to ensure you don’t lack anything benefiting your station on your voyage,” Orion went on with the same sarcastic tone. “And to report to us on your health and activities, and further on on your wedding day.”
A part of Sirius’s mind registered the fact that lord and lady Black, for all their talk of family, wouldn’t be present at their heir’s wedding. The rest of his mind didn’t care and was fighting to find a way out.
“It will be my honour, my lord,” Karkaroff said in an oily voice which sent shivers down Sirius’s spine.
“What if I don’t go?” Sirius said, defiantly. “Or what if I don’t say I do when asked?”
Anger flashed on his mother’s face for a second, before Orion turned to his secretary.
“Thank you, Karkaroff, you may go.”
Once the bearded man had disappeared outside after several profound bows, Sirius crossed his arms and stared his parents down.
“So?”
When his mother moved from behind her husband’s chair to perch on the side of his wooden desk, a smirk on her face, he knew that it was even worse than very, very bad. It was horrible.
“If you don’t go, or don’t say your vows, or try any kind of thing that prevents you from marrying Narcissa, we will start to treat your brother exactly as we treat you,” she said slowly, a hint of perverse sweetness in her voice.
Sirius’s breath caught, while his eyes automatically darted to the back of his father’s chair, to the riding crop hanging from it and the cane of polished wood and brass leaning on it.
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered.
Buried under layers and layers of doubts and guilt, there was a part of him which knew his parents didn’t like him, didn’t care for him, maybe hated him. But he was sure that they had some form of cold, twisted love for Regulus, even if it was maybe only for his achievement in not being Sirius. Regulus had been slapped or sent to bed without supper, but he had never been beaten. He didn’t have riding crop scars on his back or a jolt of pain in his left wrist when the weather changed from when Orion’s cane had broken it.
“I’ve been thinking I’ve been too indulgent with Regulus,” Orion leaned forward in his chair, gaze fixed on Sirius. “He’s a man now, but he lacks strength, and willpower… He’s soft.”
“Please don’t hurt him,” Sirius pleaded before he could realise he had even opened his mouth.
“The wedding, Sirius,” Walburga snapped. “The wedding and in due time a son to continue the bloodline. Give us that and Regulus won’t be hurt.”
Sirius swallowed. The mere idea of getting married to his cousin, of having a child with her made him want to throw up on the expensive carpet at his feet, but Regulus was more important than that. Sirius hated to agree with his father, but it was true, his brother was soft. And he had the right to remain that way, to still think their parents were stern and not a couple of maniacs. He could endure what they had decided for him, he was strong. He could do it. He didn’t want to, but for Regulus he would. He did his best to steady his voice, then tried his last chance.
“What about Andromeda? Why can’t I marry her instead of Narcissa?”
Andromeda was the only one of his three cousins he could stand. She did not walk around like she was better than everyone just because she was a Black, and she had no murderous tendencies. He remembered moments when they had found each other under enormous staircases, or hidden by a curtain in some alcove or under a veranda in a garden, both hiding from family duties, sitting in comfortable silence and a shared smile. He thought he saw something, something unpleasant, flicker on his mother’s expression before his father spoke again.
“You will marry Narcissa, that is what’s been decided,” Orion said. “Now go pack,” he had added, waving a hand and dismissing him.
Sirius walked out of the office, staggering as if he was drunk, and almost collided with Regulus in the hall. His brother smiled at him, a tiny, gentle smile.
“So, congratulations are in order, I suppose?” he asked.
“You knew?” Sirius answered.
“Mother told me this morning. I wish I could go with you and see the Caribbean, but she said I’m needed here, and the heir and the spare should never go on a voyage together, in case something happens.”
Sirius swallowed. His mother wouldn’t cry at all should his boat end up at the bottom of the ocean, he was sure of it.
“Will you come visit when you’re married?”
It was too much. Sirius only managed to nod briefly before crossing the hall and letting himself out of the house, with no hat on and definitely the wrong shoes on for the streets of London. But he didn’t care, because the only thing he needed was not to collapse before he reached safety. And safety was James’s bachelor pad. Safety, once again, was James.
He didn’t remember reaching the door, his memory jolting awake only when James’s face appeared in front of him, spectacles and messy hair and all, concern quickly replacing his usual open smile.
“What happened?”
And then Sirius with all his quips, his rapid-fire answers and his sarcasm had only managed to collapse in James’s arms and start sobbing like a little kid. James didn’t even hesitate and hugged him tight, walking him into his flat and closing the door while he peppered kisses on Sirius’s forehead.
“It’s alright, you’re safe,” he whispered. “It’s going to be alright.”
But once Sirius had calmed down enough to tell James about the engagement, the planned voyage and especially his parents’ threat it became clear that nothing was going to be alright. James had taken a bottle of expensive whiskey from his cabinet and they had drunk on, devising plans to keep Sirius in London and blissfully unmarried and to keep Regulus safe from their parents’s retaliation. But as the hours went on and the bottle got emptier and emptier they still had nothing good, nothing that would save Regulus and prevent Sirius from leaving. They had ended up drunk, crying into each other’s arms before falling asleep on James’s couch.
*
The door banged open, wrenching Sirius from his memories. He didn’t even need to look out of the curtains of his bed to know who it was, he would have recognised Kreacher’s footsteps everywhere and right now they navigated around his pile of suitcases and went to the windows, opening the curtains and letting the light flow into the room.
“Breakfast is served. Your lord father is waiting,” his voice streamed to Sirius’s ears before the door banged closed.
Sirius had grown up accustomed to how the Blacks’ butler addressed him, and he had been ten when he found out no servant would ever talk to the heir of the house like that. But Kreacher was under his mother’s protection and could say anything he wanted to Sirius.
With a sudden urge to throw up, Sirius got up and put on the traveling clothes which were probably the only outfit still outside of the suitcases. He was nearly finished adjusting the ruffle on his shirt when the door opened again and Kreacher walked back in, followed by three footmen who actually bowed to Sirius before following the butler to the pile of suitcases.
“All of it has to be put into the carriage and be on the ship in two hours’ time. And don’t let anything fall, the Mistress likes these suitcases very much,” Kreacher snapped.
She surely liked the bags more than her son, Sirius thought, leaving his bedroom and hurrying downstairs to the breakfast room. His father was as usual sipping tea with one hand while the other held a newspaper close to his eyes and didn’t even acknowledge him. As for his mother, she lifted her eyes from her plate for a split second.
“You’re late, the ship won’t wait for you,” she said.
Sirius refrained from saying out loud the ship was bound to leave exactly three hours later. It was no use getting in a last fight with his parents the morning he was leaving. Besides, if he did, they might want to take it out on Regulus, who sat on his side of the table and was putting marmalade on his bread. Sirius just sighed and sat down, pouring himself a cup of tea. He wasn’t hungry. His stomach felt as if it had been filled with tombstones which may drag him through the floor right down to Hell at any moment. And maybe that would be better than what awaited him on the ship, and certainly better than what awaited him on the other side of the ocean. He put his cup, still full, back on the table. He hadn’t even set foot on that cursed ship and he was already nauseous.
“What will you eat during the trip?” Regulus’s voice, a well-trained whisper as not to disturb their parents at the other side of the long table, came across to Sirius.
“I have no idea, Reggie,” Sirius forced himself to smile. “But I’m sure there will be more than enough food on board, I won’t starve.”
“Good,” Regulus nodded, then he smiled. “And remember to eat oranges, you can get scurvy if you’re in a ship long enough. You don’t want your teeth to fall out while you’re getting married, do you?”
For a second, Sirius had this glorious vision of himself opening his mouth to say I do and all his teeth falling out, making the bride faint and disrupting the whole dreaded ceremony. And then he remembered that even if something like that were to happen, his parents would still find some way to blame it on him and punish his brother for it.
“I won’t let my teeth fall out, I promise,” he answered.
In the following couple of hours he didn’t walk around the house looking one last time at all the places which had seen him grow up. He didn’t care, he would have no nostalgia at all about that awful place or anyone in it except Regulus. The only goodbye he needed now was James’s but he hadn’t been able to see him for more than a week now, since his parents made it clear that any time he walked out of the house would be counted as a potential escape and dealt with it accordingly. The nausea got worse every time he thought about James, about the fact his best friend didn’t even know the time his ship would be leaving, didn’t even know the name of the ship. In some weeks he would be a whole ocean away from his chosen brother, his rock, the one who knew him better than anyone on earth. It felt like cutting up half his heart and leave it bleeding on the floor.
He was still feeling nauseous when he followed his parents to the Black state carriage along with Regulus, so that the whole of London could see what a united family the Duke and Duchess of Astoria had, all of them accompanying the eldest son to his ship for their last heartfelt goodbyes. No one spoke during the ride, Sirius staring resolutely out of the window to avoid his father’s cold stare and his mother’s pursed lips. Instead he looked at the city, its streets, its people and silently said goodbye to every wall, every road, every statue or bench they rode by. He felt his heart hurt at every familiar corner he passed, and wondered if he could die like that, die there on the seat of the carriage because saying goodbye to that city was too hard. But he was still alive when the carriage stopped at the docks and the footman opened the door, stepping aside to let Orion get out of it first. The place was very busy, filled with sailors and merchants and porters carrying bags through the crowd and Sirius’s head reeled for a couple of seconds. Then he saw the ship docked right by where they were: a gigantic ship of the line with three masts, proudly flying the Union Jack and with the words The Phoenix painted in golden letters on her side.
“Wow,” Regulus breathed by his side. “Is that your ship?”
As an immediate answer, Igor Karkaroff came down the ship gangway in that moment, making a beeline for them which ended in an exaggerate bow to his father.
“My lord,” he said, before bowing again to Walburga. “My lady. I took the liberty to check the cabins and make sure all the suitcases had been loaded on before I had a word with the captain about the rank of your son and the importance of this voyage.”
“Well done, Karkaroff,” Orion nodded, and Sirius thought the oily man would explode with joy at the praise. “Any other passengers of note?”
“Only two others, my lord. A young lady who’s expected by her distant family in Port Royal and an elderly Countess who’s already embarked and shut herself in her cabin since the sea air doesn’t agree with her. The Captain wouldn’t give me their names.”
“A man of discretion,” Walburga said. “We appreciate that.”
“He actually requested the high honour of meeting you both, my lady, upon your arrival,” Karkaroff went on. “Shall I go and fetch him?”
Orion only nodded briefly and the man scuttled away up the gangway. Sirius had another look at the ship, sailors walking up and down the deck and some climbing up the masts, undoubtedly preparing to lift the anchor and leave the dock. A wave of nausea hit him again and he turned away, looking back at the docks and the crowd and finding himself looking at a carriage stopping in that instant by theirs, a footman in decorated uniform jumping down to open the door. The young lady his father’s secretary had talked about, no doubt. A blonde girl in a simple blue dress hopped down from the carriage with a bag in her arms, refusing the footman’s outstretched hand, and looked at the ship with a big, bright smile on her lips before turning around.
“Oh my lady, it’s absolutely gorgeous!” she exclaimed.
But when the lady in question stepped out of the carriage she looked very much less enthusiastic. In fact, Sirius suspected he had her exact same expression on his face in that moment.
“But that is young Dorcas Meadowes,” Walburga said, looking at her.
Sirius groaned. Of course even about to leave his country for the other side of the world his parents ended up knowing someone who would be on his same ship. His mother shot him a warning look and the four of them moved to where lady Dorcas was still eying the ship with a gloomy expression.
“Lady Dorcas,” Orion said, removing his hat.
The girl tuned around and a perfect high society smile immediately appeared on her face as she curtsied.
“Lord Black,” she said, before curtsying to Walburga as well. “Lady Black.”
“Are you sailing from England today as well?” Walburga asked.
“Yes, my lady,” Dorcas answered. “I am to spend some time with my aunt’s family in Port Royal.”
Her perfect society smile remained unchanged, but something told Sirius her truth was way deeper that what she had just said.
“Are you sailing on The Phoenix as well?” she asked.
“Only our eldest, Sirius,” Orion nodded in his direction. “He’s to spend some time with my brother-in-law in Port Royal as well. A bride awaits him there.”
Dorcas turned to him and Sirius could now place her, her direct stare and her black braids now in a twisted knot at the base of her neck at some of the balls he had gone to, or the afternoons the noble society of the country organised to spend time together. He didn’t think they had ever spoken.
“Congratulations, my lord,” she curtly said, with a bow of the head.
“Thank you,” he answered, thinking that if his only company on The Phoenix was to be her and Karkaroff for six whole weeks he would probably die of boredom.
“Please excuse me,” Dorcas tuned back to his parents. “I had better go aboard and settle in my cabin.”
“Of course, have a safe journey,” Orion said.
“Thank you, my lord,” Dorcas curtsied again then turned to the ship. “Come Pandora, let’s go.”
“Coming, my lady!” the blonde maid answered, quickly following her mistress up the ship gangway.
“I had no idea the Meadowes were sending their daughter away,” Walburga said through pursed lips. “Last I heard she was in a boarding school for young ladies, properly waiting for her parents to find her a husband.”
Sirius could see Orion wasn’t interested in the least about what happened to Lady Dorcas and her family, especially since they weren’t involved with his own, precious dynasty, and for once he agreed with his father. He didn’t really care about her, or anyone that wasn’t Regulus right now, that same Regulus who now pointed at the gangway.
“I think that’s the captain,” he said.
They all moved back towards the ship and stopped right when, preceded by Karkaroff, a man in high uniform walked on the dock. He looked quite old, Sirius mused, observing his sharp eyes and his long grey beard, tied in a knot on his stomach. He was wondering what happened during a trip if the captain died of old age one night when Karkaroff gestured to the man and then to his parents in some parody of a courtly presentation.
“May I present Captain Dumbledore, captain of The Phoenix,” he said. “And it is my honour to present Lord Orion Black, Duke of Astoria and his wife the Duchess.”
The Captain bowed with an ease that defied Sirius’s wildest hypothesis about his old age and kissed Walburga’s hand.
“It is an honour to meet the head of the Noble House of Black,” he said with a sugary voice.
Sirius refrained to say out loud he had forgotten the and Most Ancient his parents were so proud of since the man would have easy access to kill him in his cabin for the next weeks. Still, come to think of it, being killed on the ship would solve a lot of things. His parents wouldn’t harm Regulus if Sirius was killed by the captain on board the ship, right? He would be dead and it wouldn’t be his fault, so maybe it actually was a great idea to humiliate the captain in front of his parents.
“This is our heir, Sirius,” Orion’s voice snapped him back to the present. “He’s sailing for Port Royal for his wedding.”
“May I offer you and your family my congratulations?” the Captain said, a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Sirius only nodded. The good thing about the voyage was that maybe people would stop congratulating him on the damned wedding.
“Please, Captain,” Walburga put a hand on the captain’s arm and Sirius tried his very best not to roll his eyes seeing his mother turn on her helpless lady in distress act. “Make sure my son gets there safe and sound.”
“Do not worry, lady Black,” Captain Dumbledore nodded. “My sailors and this ship can safely navigate even the most treacherous waters, and His Majesty’s royal navy has made the entire journey quite safe now.”
A part of Sirius really wanted to tell him the only thing his mother worried about was him finding a way to not be at the altar when his cousin would walk down the aisle in her wedding dress, but the very thought of it brought a new wave of nausea over him.
“We’ll raise the anchor and leave quite soon and I have to supervise the last preparations,” the Captain went on. “I will leave you to say your goodbyes, and be assured your son is in very good hands.”
He bowed again and left them to walk back aboard.
“Have a safe passage, Karkaroff,” Orion said, shaking his secretary’s hand. “We expect updates every time there is the possibility of sending letters.”
“Of course my lord, your wish is my command,” the oily man managed to bow while still shaking Orion’s hand. “Once again, I thank you for the trust you put in me.”
He kissed Walburga’s hand, bowed to Regulus as well and hurried up the ship gangway. Sirius looked at his parents, the nausea combining with a knot in the pit of his stomach.
“Let’s not pretend we’re here for tearful goodbyes,” he blurted out.
“People are watching, behave yourself,” his mother immediately hissed back.
She made a great show of getting close to him, adjusting the ruffles of his shirt and placing a feather-like kiss on his forehead. Sirius had no memory of his mother ever kissing him, even for show, and it hit him like a punch in the stomach. A part of him wanted to jerk away, walk away, run up the gangway of the ship and possibly hurl himself into the sea. But another part, a tiny one but in that moment so present it physically hurt, just wanted to lean in, to beg for another kiss, to wrap his arms around Walburga’s delicate frame and hang on, asking her to love him for once, like a little kid.
“Put one toe out of line, either on this voyage or after and you know what will happen,” her voice coldly whispered against his forehead, and like that the spell was gone.
Luckily, Orion’s idea of faking affection for his eldest son was a formal handshake, so it was over in seconds and Sirius could finally turn towards the only person which shared his blood he actually loved. Without thinking he crushed Regulus’s small body in his arms, holding him tight to him.
“Be safe,” he whispered in his ear, unable to stop himself. “And remember I love you.”
“I love you too,” Regulus’s voice caught as he hugged Sirius back fiercely, with a strength Sirius didn’t expect. “Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s enough,” Walburga snapped in that moment.
With a quick kiss to his brother’s temple, Sirius reluctantly let go. He allowed himself one last look at his parents, one last small smile to Regulus then turned on his heels and walked to the ship, resolutely marching up the gangway. He wouldn’t turn around, he wouldn’t look back. Damn it, he would do his best not to think starting from the moment he put foot on deck. It was useless anyway, his fate was sealed. There was nothing he could do if he wanted to make sure no harm would come to his little brother. Forget everything, do as you’re told, never think about what you had to leave behind, never think about what could have been. Do your duty as the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
“Welcome aboard The Phoenix, m’lord,” a voice greeted him as his right foot hit the deck of the ship.
Sirius looked to his left, where a sailor probably his age, with pale eyes and dirty blonde hair, was looking up from a pile of ropes.
“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, wondering if he had ever felt less welcome in a place. “Show me to my cabin, would you?”
The small smile on the sailor’s face had disappeared. He slowly rose, something passing in his eyes which he immediately cast down, and pointed to the stern of the ship.
“This way, your lordship,” he said.
Sirius barely registered the sarcastic tone. He followed the sailor, walking down a small flight of stairs to a corridor with a number of doors.
“Saw the ladies go in here and in here,” the sailor pointed at two closed doors while they passed them. “And the bearded man in that one over there, so I reckon this one’s yours, your lordship,” he opened the third door. “Find anything inside that’s yours?”
Sirius passed the threshold, seeing his suitcases piled against a wall making the small cabin even smaller. But it looked clean and light was streaming from the window in the wall opposite the door.
“I thought it would be a porthole,” Sirius pointed at the curtains framing the very-normal looking window.
“Oh no, portholes are reserved for the crew,” the sailor answered. “Only the best for your lordships.”
Sirius turned around with half a mind to tell this guy he was being insolent, but the sailor only bowed quickly before walking away. Sirius sighed. Six weeks in such a small space could get very long. He wished he could have packed some books but the only ones he had ever liked had met, as always, the high disapproval of his parents so they had been safely placed in James’s flat to avoid them ending up in Orion’s fireplace. The mere thought of James sent another wave of nausea through him and he sat down on the small bed, wondering how he could ever even try not to think, or try to forget. But if he didn’t do it, he would go crazy. He passed a hand over his eyes, then quickly dropped it when he heard footsteps stop in front of his open door.
“The ship’s leaving the docks,” Karkaroff said. “You’re expected to be on deck, master Black.”
“That’s lord Black to you,” Sirius snapped.
“Not while your lord father is alive,” the man smiled his oily smile. “And he expects you to wave your family goodbye as you leave.”
Sirius rose from his bed.
“Speaking of being alive,” he hissed as he passed Karkaroff on his way out of the cabin. “Try to stay that way, and to do that I suggest you stay as far away from me as possible in the next weeks.”
His jaw clenched, he climbed the stairs and emerged on the deck where the sailors were running back and forth, shouting orders.
“Lord Black!”
Sirius turned around to see the Captain motion at him from the high platform of the quarterdeck.
“Come up here, you’ll have a better view,” he said.
Still followed by Karkaroff, Sirius climbed the stairs where Captain Dumbledore met him with a smile.
“Nothing like a last goodbye to our dear London, before a long journey” he pointed to the railing where Lady Dorcas was already standing with her maid. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my lord, I have to mind the maneuver.”
He went back to the helm and Sirius crossed over to Dorcas, feeling himself still followed by Karkaroff and doing his best to ignore it.
“Lady Dorcas,” he greeted her.
She only nodded in return, but her maid turned to him with her bright smile and a teapot in her hands.
“Tea, my lord?” she asked.
“Tea?” Sirius repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Now?”
“I made a good strong English tea for my lady, to bid farewell to England,” the maid went on. “Would my lord care for a cup?”
“Pandora makes the best teas,” Dorcas said then, effectively sipping from a teacup in her hand, her gaze fixed on the docks.
“Then yes, I’ll have one, thank you,” Sirius shook his head.
Saying goodbye to London with a cup of tea in his hand, what a cliché. He let his gaze wander on the docks, his stomach churning at the sight of his parents, perfectly still by their carriage. Regulus was a few steps in front of them, his eyes fixed on the ship. Sirius felt his hand raise to make his brother look at where he was but in that moment Pandora offered him a full cup of tea and he accepted it gratefully, taking a sip to hide his teeth grinding against each other. He did his best not to look at Regulus, and instead watched the sailors at work. They had almost removed the gangway and some of them were climbing the main mast while others were ready to lift the anchor at the Captain’s signal.
“Wait! Wait, please!”
Someone was running on the dock, frantically waving an arm towards the ship. Sirius and Dorcas leaned forward to have a better look at a young man in a pastor’s cassock waving through the crowd in their direction until he stopped right at the edge of the water.
“Wait!” he called again. “I’m supposed to leave with you!”
“What’s this about?”
Captain Dumbledore had stridden to Sirius’s side and was eying the man from the railing. He turned to a little man who had run to follow him, a big book in one hand and a pencil in the other.
“Are we missing a passenger, Mr Flitwick?” the Captain asked.
“Well, actually, sir, we are,” the little man flipped through his book. “Pastor Snape failed to show up in time, but he has a cabin in his name.”
“And I’m guessing that’ll be him,” Captain Dumbledore sighed, signaling to the sailors to put the gangway back. “He’s lucky, some minutes more and he would have had to swim. Anyone else missing from our passenger list, Mr Flitwick?”
“Let’s see,” Mr Flitwick flipped again through the pages. “Lady Dorcas Meadowes and her maid, Lord Sirius Black and Mr Karkaroff, Countess Montflea, now Pastor Snape… We’re not missing anyone else, Captain.”
“Good,” Captain Dumbledore gestured to the sailors helping the pastor on deck to finally haul the gangway on the ship and walked back to the helm, one swift movement of his hand setting all the maneuvers back on track. This time, the ship started to move quickly away from the dock, and Sirius couldn’t help but finding Regulus in the crowd again. His parents seemed about to climb back in their carriage, probably reassured enough that their degenerate son was really leaving, but he hadn’t moved. He stood in the same exact place, staring at the ship, his gaze now fixed on Sirius with a stillness he had never seen in his little brother, shoulders brought back and hands clasped behind his back. And while Sirius was looking at him, Regulus lifted a hand, a graceful but at the same time rigid gesture. Sirius felt his throat close as he raised his own hand, wishing with all his being that his brother would be okay.
“My lord, my lady, I must apologise for the recent scene, I fear it was a very poor way of introducing myself.”
Sirius was jerked away from his heartbreak by the pastor who had climbed to the quarterdeck and was currently bowing to him and Dorcas. He detailed his long greasy black hair and his pointed nose, and along with the servile tone of his apology immediately decided he didn’t like the man. To be honest, the pastor never had that much of a chance, seeing Sirius’s less than fondness for men of the Church, particularly those fond of screaming during their sermons against all those delightful things he loved like alcohol, gambling and of course, men in his bed.
“Severus Snape, pastor,” the man went on and only the memory of his own name kept Sirius from sniggering at him.
A silence followed and Sirius reluctantly picked up his good manners.
“Sirius Black” he briefly nodded his head, omitting his title since the pastor had very evidently already pinned him as noble. “The lady Dorcas Meadowes,” he introduced, pointedly ignoring Karkaroff’s presence by his side.
“It is such an honour,” pastor Snape kissed Dorcas’s hand then bowed to Sirius again. “I had the privilege to be in the presence of lord Orion Black recently. Such a great man, if I may.”
Sirius raised a single eyebrow, but before he could decide if he wanted to start open warfare with the pastor, Dorcas stepped in.
“Would you care for a cup of tea, pastor?” she asked, her society smile back on her lips. “To calm down now you’re finally on board.”
“Gladly, my lady, very gladly,” the pastor bowed his head.
“Pandora is an artist at brewing teas,” Dorcas went on, and Sirius was silently grateful to her for shifting the conversation away from the topic of his father.
“Such a gem to have in one’s household,” pastor Snape nodded, taking the cup from Pandora’s hands. “How long have you been at your mistress’s service, girl?”
“Just a couple of weeks, sir,” Pandora curtsied. “I was lucky to be employed right before my lady sailed away.”
“Peculiar of your family to send you on such a long journey with a new maid, my lady,” Karkaroff intervened.
By the expression which rapidly flickered on Dorcas’s face before disappearing under her perfect mask, Sirius knew Karkaroff had put his foot in it and took a great pleasure in commenting on it.
“Know your place,” he snapped at the man before slightly bowing his head in Dorcas’s direction. “I apologise for my father’s secretary, he has no manners at all.”
He felt Karkaroff fuming behind him and was delighted in ignoring him in favour of the pastor.
“What about you, pastor Snape?” he asked. “What brings a man of the Church to embark on such a long voyage at sea?”
“The new world, my lord,” the pastor answered. “A new place to spread the good word of our Lord and Saviour and do God’s work.”
“Are you bound for Port Royal as well?” Dorcas asked.
“Yes, my lady. I am to meet with the Governor’s pastor firstly, to get accustomed to the new place, but then my plan is to go further into those lands we are just now properly exploring. So many savages need the word of God brought to them out there.”
“Don’t they have their own beliefs?” Dorcas asked.
“Oh, of course,” the pastor went on. “Those poor souls have been worshiping idols for generations, it’s high time someone saved them.”
“I’m sure they would say the exact same thing of you, pastor,” Dorcas smiled sweetly.
Sirius had to admire her poise and her eyes innocently open wide, perfectly prompting the pastor to automatically think of hers as a silly remark of a clueless high society lady. But he was sure there was way more than that behind her crack-proof facade. Maybe the voyage wouldn’t be so boring after all, if he managed to be allowed behind her veneer and get to know what her thoughts really were.
“I’m sure they would,” pastor Snape gulped down the last drops of his tea. “But the things I know about their traditions, which I won’t repeat in the ladies’ company makes it clear the Church of England is right about the right path to salvation while they’re wrong.”
Now Sirius was sure pastor Snape was one of those preaching against everything he held dear every time he thought the occasion called for it. He forced himself to smile.
“I’m sure you must be dying to settle down in your cabin after that race to the ship, pastor. Let us not keep you from getting some well deserved rest now we’re almost in open sea,” he said, making it clear by his wording this was not a simple invitation. “I’ll have Mr Karkaroff show you downstairs,” he snapped his fingers.
“Of course, my lord,” Karkaroff answered through gritted teeth.
“Yes, I am in fact quite weary,” pastor Snape nodded, giving back his empty teacup to Pandora. “Thank you for the tea, my lady. My lord.”
He bowed and picked up his bag before following Karkaroff off the quarterdeck. Sirius leaned on the railing as soon as they disappeared from view and let out a sigh. The coastline was quickly receding from view, the sailors evidently adjusting the last necessary things to set a steady course under the orders of Captain Dumbledore who had his hands firmly on the helm and sometimes shouted sharp, quick orders which were immediately repeated by Mr Flitwick standing by his side.
“We’re almost out of sight from England,” Dorcas’s voice said.
“We are,” he answered.
“It feels…” she hesitated. “Complicated.”
Sirius looked at her, now leaning on the railing by his side. Her society mask was gone and her face was a storm of different emotions he was hit with. He decided to let go of his own society mask and talk frankly.
“Not your choice either, huh?” he said.
She sighed.
“Not at all. More like a punishment, really,” she said. “You?”
“My punishment is waiting at the end of the voyage,” he rolled his eyes. “In the form of my mother’s family and a bride.”
Dorcas nodded.
“I was spared that for now. But I know my aunt, and she will set off finding me a husband as soon as I disembark.”
“No peace when you’re part of ancient and noble families.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” she eyed him. “And here I thought men had more agency than women.”
“Not in my case, I assure you,” Sirius snorted. “The only one with agency, over the whole family, has always been the head of the House of Black. And my father is sadly in very good health and since there’s no justice in this world he will live until he’s eighty as least.”
Dorcas giggled.
“This is scandalous talk,” she whispered. “Basically wishing your father would die.”
“You say that only because you’ve met my parents in society settings where they can’t show the worst of themselves. Besides, scandal is what I do and the only reason you don’t automatically associate that word with me is because that creep Karkaroff is paid an obscene amount of money to stop everything that’s not proper about me from ever getting out.”
“I know the feeling,” Dorcas sighed.
Sirius was about to push it further and ask her how when Mr Flitwick approached them.
“Begging your pardon, my lady, my lord,” he said. “But we’re now in open sea and Countess Montflea asked to be notified when we were. Would my lady send her maid to tell the Countess that?”
“Of course,” Dorcas nodded. “Pandora, could you kindly go tell the Countess we’re far away from England now?”
“At once, my lady,” Pandora curtsied and left the quarterdeck while Mr Flitwick bowed again and went back to the Captain.
“Maybe she hates England and didn’t want to see it disappearing,” Dorcas commented.
“I’ve been told the sea air doesn’t agree with her,” Sirius said. “She must have a really good reason to be on a ship if that’s so.”
“Maybe she wants to convert the savages as well,” Dorcas whispered with a corner smile.
Sirius snorted. He had been right about her feelings about the pastor then.
“The conversations at the Captain’s table are sure to be interesting for the next month or so,” he sighed.
“I might take advantage of my being a weak female and have my meals brought to my cabin,” Dorcas nodded.
“Do you think it’s too late for me to say I too feel sick at sea?” Sirius asked.
He certainly felt sick, but the sea wasn’t to blame. Not even the horizon being free of any kind of coastline now helped, it actually reminded him that his brother was now completely out of reach, completely at the mercy of his parents.
“My lord.”
Pandora had returned and was looking at him.
“Yes?”
“The Countess requested your help, my lord,” the maid smiled. “I told her we had left England behind and she asked if a strong gentleman could help her walk above deck.”
“Is she that old?” Sirius asked, once again puzzled that someone seasick and in need of help to walk up a small flight of stairs was aboard.
“I didn’t get to see her, my lord,” Pandora answered. “She spoke to me through her cabin door. I didn’t think her voice sounded that old, but it was very muffled and sometimes hard to understand.”
“Well, I’ll go right now,” Sirius nodded to Dorcas. “Let’s find out about another fellow passenger.”
He quickly walked down the quarterdeck stairs and then those bringing him to the cabins. He stopped at the door right next to his.
“Countess Montflea?” he called.
Some rustling came from behind the door, then a high-pitched, muffled voice.
“Is this the strong and handsome gentleman come to help me?”
Sirius frowned. No one talked like that, but sometimes old dowagers took liberties with proper etiquette.
“My name is Sirius Back, my lady,” he answered. “I was told you’re in need of help to get upstairs?”
“Come in, please!”
Sirius pushed the door open and walked in a cabin exactly like his own apart from the style of suitcases against a wall and the fact the small bed was on the opposite side. On it, what looked like a heap of blankets turned towards him.
“Ah, the very handsome lord Black,” the heap said in a still muffled voice. “My saviour!”
There was something very weird. It really looked like a person had just thrown a bunch of sheets and blankets on top of themselves and was now acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world. And the Countess’s voice was even weirder. Sirius walked closer to the bed, frowning.
“How can I help?” he slowly said.
The heap didn’t answer and he noticed it was shaking. Sirius looked at it, trying to find any indication of how the person underneath it was positioned.
“My lady?” he hesitated.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” the heap burst out laughing in a totally different voice.
Sirius’s brain short-circuited in recognition half a second before the heap threw all the sheets and blankets around and he found himself crushed in James’s fierce hug.