Secrets are peculiar things. They have a way of driving us insane. A secret kept inside can torment one’s mind, but a secret released to the world can ravage and destroy all people. A secret can be the most dangerous force in the world, because how far it will reach is never known. It is equally dangerous to keep a secret; it just may cause one to self-implode.
All her life, Élisabeth had felt the intense burden of keeping secrets to herself. Many times, indeed, she had nearly been fed up with the things she was holding inside and thrown it all away. Stable was not a word that could be used to describe her. From the inside out the secrets were eating away at her being. She had no confidant, no one she could trust. She had never felt the freedom and security of full trust and honesty. Her secrets were her life; her life was her secret. No one alive knew the truth about her. Perhaps it was because few had asked.
Until today.
They arrived promptly at two p.m., ringing her doorbell once politely, then after a pause there was a raucous knock on the door, followed by a hesitant, almost dainty knock. Élisabeth had been sitting at the table, reading the short letter over and over again. Today was the eighth; today was they day the mysterious H.P. and friends would come for tea at her house; today was the day she knew she would have to say the name she had been afraid to utter for years. At the three distinct greetings at her door, she slowly stood up from the table, smoothed the front of her paisley dress, and walked to the foyer.
Through the glass door she could see a few figures, possibly three or four, standing outside, shuffling around nervously. Though indistinct as they were through the blurred glass, she got the sense that they were every bit as nervous as she was. One of the figures, with brown hair, appeared to slap the arm of the tallest in the group. That one had bright red hair, she could see that easily as she came closer. On the other side of the two playfully fighting stood a boy, or a man, she couldn’t quite know his age, with darker hair, and behind him, glancing down frequently at something in her hands, was a girl with long red hair.
Many times since she had received their cryptic letter she had wondered about the identities of the senders. She had not known many people with the initials H.P. during her life, much less anyone who would refer to him or herself as such. Herman Percival, an old supervisor at L’Hôpital de la Magie de Paris, came to her mind, but he was retired now and too old to so much as lift a quill. What’s more, they had never been on the best of terms, and if M. Percival had ever known of Sirius Black he would have only thought of him as the fanatical supporter of Lord Voldemort. The man had never been much into the news of the magical world existing in Britain, and he was all around a bad candidate to be the sender.
More and more in the recent days had the idea that Harry Potter had sent the letter entered her mind. Sirius had been best friends with James, and she remembered reading once, after his death, that Sirius had been Harry’s godfather. Everything matched up, except for the question of how Harry, a young boy, would ever come to know of her existence? She laughed at the idea of Sirius having told Harry about her; she was certain he had never given her a thought since they parted so many years ago. So much had happened in his life, and his heart had surely become otherwise engaged during her absence. With stinging sadness she always remembered how her heart never had, despite how hard she tried. Even after his death, she was unable to let her love for Sirius die.
Whoever was calling on her for tea, she would now find out. Taking a deep breath and putting on a smile, she pulled back the bolt and turned the gold handle. In front of her were the faces she had seen pop up in the newspaper multiple times over the last few years. Harry Potter she knew quite well, but his friends’ names she was unsure about. It didn’t matter much, she figured, because she would soon find out all.
–Good afternoon, you must be Harry Potter and friends,†she said in perfect English. –I’m Élisabeth LaBelle. Please come in and sit down.†She extended her arm to point to the comfortable couches in the parlor where she had placed trays of cheese and bread, fruit, and a pot of tea.
The tall redhead rushed past her and flopped down on a couch. The brunette girl stepped forward and held out her hand, saying, –Pleased to meet you. I’m Hermione Granger and, of course, as you’ve guessed, this is Harry Potter, and behind him is Ginny Weasley. And over there on the couch is Ron Weasley.â€
After they had all come inside Harry turned to Élisabeth and said, –Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. I know we weren’t very clear about what this was about in our letter, but we decided the full details were best to be discussed face to face.â€
–You see,†Hermione began when they were all sitting, –we found something a few weeks ago that we believe concerns you. I assume that by your acceptance of meeting us today, it does.â€
Élisabeth looked down at her folded hands in her lap. She was unsure of what her face would read. She knew what was coming, and she had been preparing mentally for it for weeks, ever since she received the letter. Really, the more she considered the matter, she had been preparing for this confession since she was just a teenager. Only twice before had she had to make the confession, out of necessity. Now, it was out of curiosity. The first times it had hurt; the pain still felt fresh. Now, although she knew it would still hurt, she wanted to. Perhaps this time, she would finally have healing.
Looking up slowly, Élisabeth nodded and said quietly, –Yes. You want to know about Sirius.â€
Hermione nodded and pulled a faded envelope out of her pocket. –We think this was supposed to be for you,†she said as she handed it to Élisabeth.
She stared in wonder at the familiar scrawling handwriting. A knowing smile played at her lips. –I never thought I would see this writing again,†she whispered. She turned it over in her hands, letting her fingertips memorize every crease and bend. It was both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, like a long-lost friend she had nearly forgotten about.
–Go ahead and read it now, if you want,†Harry said. –We did take the liberty of reading it ourselves to find out what it was.â€
Tears came to her eyes when she read, Chère Élisabeth, I know it has only been three weeks since I last saw you but I miss you already. The first shock was already over, hearing his name for the first time in a few years, and in a personal context, what’s more, but seeing her name in his handwriting again was too much for her. She wasn’t one to cry, especially not in front of people, let alone strangers, but this could not be helped. She struggled to compose herself for a minute before giving up and letting the tears flow freely. They were quiet sobs as she sucked in her breath and tried to calm down.
She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Ginny sitting near her. The girl patted her lovingly, and it did help give her strength. Élisabeth smiled at her then continued reading the rest of the letter. Her heart swelled with each word. You are forever in my heart, it concluded, and she thought to herself, You are forever in mine, too.
–We’re just confused because we never heard of you before, not from Sirius or from Remus,†Harry said. –This letter was the first time we ever knew you existed.â€
–As it says, we planned to have it that way, for the time being,†Élisabeth began. –We didn’t want to, but we thought it was best for our safety to keep our relationship under wraps. There was, of course, the house rivalry, but that didn’t mean anything. What mattered was the war; we couldn’t let people know we were together. I couldn’t align myself with the Order, because that would show the Death Eaters I was certainly against them. I didn’t believe in what they were doing anymore, but I couldn’t speak out against them. It was too dangerous, especially since I was a Slytherin.â€
Ginny sighed happily next to her and said, –What a dangerous romance! Tell us all about it!â€
Élisabeth laughed, and feeling that it was good for them to know the truth, for the next half hour related to them the slightly censored tale of her year-long romance with Gryffindor’s most eligible bachelor, which had been playing over and over again in her mind for a week. It was easier to talk about it the more she went on, and she could feel the burden of one of her greatest secrets lifting from her shoulders. She had never told the outside world about her romance before; she found it was liberating.
–I still think about him every day, even though I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen,†she quietly concluded. –I miss him very much; I have missed him every day since our hands last touched.â€
–What happened?†Hermione asked. –Why didn’t you see him again?â€
Blushing slightly, Élisabeth began to feel nervous. She hadn’t thought how she would explain this part yet. But before she could open her mouth, there was a loud pop! outside her door followed by a quick set of knocks. –Mother!â€
–Well, that’s why,†she said gesturing towards the door where they could now see a man standing outside.
She stood and walked to the door, letting him inside. –Salut, mon fils,†she said, kissing him on both cheeks. –What a surprise! I have company right now, as you can see.†She led him inside and introduced everyone to him. –This is my son--â€
–Beetle!†Harry exclaimed when he realized who it was.
–You know him?†Ginny asked.
–Who is he?†Hermione asked leaning over to Ron, who merely shrugged.
–Hello, Mr. Potter,†the intern said sheepishly and smiled. –I didn’t know you knew my mother.â€
–We’ve only just met,†Élisabeth said. –It’s good that you’re here. I was just about to talk about you.â€
When they were all comfortably acquainted and their presence was explained to each other (Beetle had a free weekend and decided to surprise his mother), Élisabeth, started to tell the story of how she cut off contact with Sirius. Everyone sat listening and drinking tea in silence, captivated by her story. –I began the summer with every intention of continuing our relationship. I had planned to write him as often as I safely could, but before I ever wrote to or received anything from him, I realized that I was pregnant. I knew then that I couldn’t tell him about it, because he had a duty to the Order; he couldn’t be both a father and in such a dangerous position, not so young. He wouldn’t have been ready.â€
Élisabeth spoke slowly, still feeling very emotional about it all. –I couldn’t tell him, but I couldn’t break up with him, either. That would have hurt both of us too much. My only option was to leave Hogwarts and stay at home with my family. I was afraid that they would ostracize me like they had my mother, but I had to try.
–My mother kept a journal about what happened when I was born. I read it so many times after she died; it connected me to her. I think I have it memorized.†Closing her eyes to see the page in her mind, Élisabeth continued, –She wrote, I yelled at them. I couldn’t take it anymore. ‘What do you want from me?’ I yelled. ‘I’m not as strong as dad! I’m not perfect like my you! I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but this,’ I said pointing to my concealed stomach, ‘is not one! This is my life, not yours! I love the father of my child, and I am going to keep my baby.’ Well, of course, after that outburst they said they had no choice but to kick me out of the house. ‘You will have to fend for yourself and your child. Your fate is out of our hands.’ I have no regrets.
–I wanted to be better than her. I didn’t want to make her mistakes. But I guess I turned out more like my mother than I ever would have imagined. Maybe it’s genetics,†she said, shrugging. –Thankfully, by the time I was pregnant, my grandparents had softened up and they were able to accept my decision to keep him. I know they felt bad about how they had treated my mother when she was in my situation, so they wanted to make up for it.
–Well, we decided to move back to France where my cousins and extended family still lived. My grandparents thought it was good to leave Britain entirely, with the Dark Lord gaining power. It was a real breath of fresh hair leaving Britain; I didn’t have to worry about anyone I had previously known finding me. Unfortunately, that also meant that Sirius couldn’t find me. I wanted to write to him every day to let him know what was happening, but I knew I couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to have a child. I wasn’t ready, myself.
–Thanks to my family’s support, being a mother was not as hard as I anticipated it to be. I couldn’t finish my education or get a job for some years, but trading that to be a mum wasn’t so bad.†She smiled up at her son, who had been looking acutely uncomfortable since he had entered the house. Feeling his mother’s love he smiled back, relaxing a little more now.
–One of the hardest parts was deciding on a name for my baby. I couldn’t very well name him Sirius IV going along with the Black’s tradition; that would be too dangerous. Then I remembered some of the nights when Sirius stayed outside late stargazing. He could point out all the stars his family members were named after, along with other stars. Bételgeuse was one of his favorites because of its vibrant colour, and so I named my son Bételgeux.
–It wasn’t until after the Dark Lord died, when you as a baby defeated him,†she said pointing to Harry, –that I was able to admit to my family that Sirius was the father. For a moment, I had hope that I could tell Sirius everything, that he could meet his son and we could be a family. Of course, almost immediately afterwards the news broke that Sirius had murdered twelve Muggles. He was locked up in Azkaban, and I locked away my secrets again. It was a blessed relief when it was revealed what really happened that day and that Sirius was innocent, but that knowledge was only made known when . . . he died.â€
Élisabeth grew very quiet now, deep in a mournful reverie. Everyone else was similarly affected. After a while, Harry put down his teacup and spoke up. –Sirius was a good man. His wishes were always for the reign of goodness in the Wizarding World. He devoted his life to fighting against Voldemort, and he was never anything but a good friend. He was kind and compassionate, but he always knew how to cause mischief. You are a woman worthy of the Sirius Black I knew, and,†turning to Beetle he continued, –I know without a doubt that he would have been proud of you, Beetle.â€
What had moments before felt like a sad memorial service now regained life and joy. Seemingly out of nowhere, the atmosphere in the room changed. Now, instead of tears of sadness, there were tears of joy and happiness and hugs all around. Sirius may be gone, but their love for him and his love for them was not. Even though they had only just met, Élisabeth felt like she had known them all forever, and she loved them. They brought back the happiness and good memories of Sirius that had been slowly fading for her. They were a family.
The group continued sharing memories and stories for many hours, until after the sky was dark. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny got up to leave, Ginny brought the old red box she had come in with to Élisabeth. –There are more letters that Sirius wrote to you. There are probably hundreds in here. They’re all yours now. They have finally reached their intended recipient.†She handed her the box, then with a few final hugs goodbye and promises to see each other again, they left.
She stared at the letters, her heart beating almost out of her chest. For years she had been hoping for some news about her old love. He was her one true love, in fact, the only man she had ever loved. And now, here in her trembling fingers, were his words written to her. It was overwhelming. She had not seen him for nearly twenty-two years, and even though he had been taken from this world years previously, she knew that her heart had never changed. She was then, now, and always would be, a Black at heart.
A Black at Heart by Miss B
Chapter Notes: I said I would have this chapter up in October, and now it is March, and for that I am so sorry. Life got crazy and I have only now had time to finish writing. Without any further ado, here is the final chapter.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you very much for reading! I enjoyed writing it, and I hoped you enjoyed reading it. If you feel like it, please leave a review! I greatly appreciate them, even negative reviews! There is always room to grow as a writer.