Chapter 5: Before the Storm

Things at the manor had settled into a nice routine.

Every morning, sunlight streamed through the breakfast room's arched windows, warming the long wooden table where Harry, Hermione, and Sirius now ate. Missy brought out fresh scones and tea that stirred itself slowly. Sirius, who was still weak, made sure to join them. He told dry jokes and made bad puns that made Harry groan and Hermione laugh even though she didn't want to.

Hermione would go to the potions greenhouse in the afternoons to carefully brew memory-easing infusions and restorative draughts. Harry, on the other hand, practiced dueling against fake enemies in the orchard, weaving between cherry trees as spells lit up the air. Missy would sometimes bring iced pumpkin juice, but if Harry burned the bark again, she would hit him lightly.

Sirius liked to sit on the porch with a shawl around him and watch the birds gather around the garden fountain. He talked to them sometimes. He would just watch sometimes, without saying anything.

Everyone wanted to believe it would last.

But the past left scars.

Sirius still jumped when doors slammed. He began with a lot of laughter. He couldn't sleep for more than a few hours. When he did, he woke up sweating and shaking. Hedwig was always there for him, and at night she would often sit next to him and let him rest one hand on her feathers to help him feel grounded.

Harry saw Sirius in the library one morning, staring at a book that was open. The pages were empty.

" Sirius?"

Sirius looked up, and tears ran down his face. "There was a story here about a man who lost everything. Who forgot how to act like a person? I thought I could read it. But...

He couldn't finish.

He closed the book for Harry.

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That week, Hermione added someone new to their group.

"You need to talk to someone, Sirius." Someone learned.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I don't need a mind-healer."

"You need someone who isn't us," she replied gently.

She introduced him—quietly, secretly to Dr. Celestina Bryar, a witch and psychiatrist who specializes in magical trauma. She was a few years younger than Sirius. Her eyes were kind and sharp, and her voice was warm and confident without being too formal. She wore useful robes and had a wand behind one ear. Her office, hidden in a Muggle alley in Bristol, was protected by layers of charms and spells that made things look different.

Of course, Sirius went in disguise, using a glamour and a fake name. He complained about it for days, saying things like "invisibility cloaks are more dignified."

But there was something about Celestina that got through.

"You survived what most people can't even imagine," she said to him first. But now we have to see if you can live.

He blinked at her.

Then they nodded.

That night, he came home quiet but changed.

Sirius started to look forward to their meetings after a few times. He would shave before he left. He'd make his shirt look nice.

One day, he came back with a weak, faraway smile. Harry raised one eyebrow.

"You look happy," he said in a teasing way. "Should we be worried?"

Sirius just shrugged and acted like he was upset. But Hermione and Harry exchanged a knowing look.

"She's good for him, isn't she?" she said later.
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Later that day, Sirius sat in the garden with a closed book on his lap. Hedwig landed next to him without making a sound. He didn't move; he just reached out and let her stroke her feathers.

He whispered, "I thought you were gone too."

The owl didn't make a sound. 

That night, Hermione surprised them with a magical projection orb she had made from a broken Pensieve. "Tonight is movie night," she said.

They sat on magical beanbags while pictures of Indiana Jones cracking whips and running away from boulders floated around them.

Sirius said, with his mouth full of popcorn that tasted like butterbeer, "I'm just saying, a guy with a wand wouldn't have any trouble with any of this."

"That's what makes it fun!" Harry made a case. "He's not a wizard!"

Sirius joked, "And he still looks cooler than Merlin."

"Merlin would make that hat into a duck," Hermione said. "And he'd still have time to talk to himself."

The argument got out of hand until Hermione waved her wand and started a romantic comedy.

"This," she said with a smirk, "is my revenge."

Hedwig, who was sitting on a shelf, stole popcorn from Sirius and dramatically brought it to Harry like a holy gift. Harry bowed back in a serious way.

Everyone laughed.

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Harry had a dream that night.

He was standing on top of a broken hill. The sky was red. A lot of people in black robes were waiting below.

There was another version of him in front of them. Darker. More years. Eyes that looked like broken emeralds.

He lifted a stick. Fire rained down from the sky.

Harry woke up with a gasp.

He was already next to Hermione. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head. "I saw him." The other me. Leading... everything. Like a god of war.

Hermione put a cool cloth on his head. "It was only a dream."

"No," he whispered. "It was a warning."

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In another part of the city, Celestina stood in her dark office after Sirius had left.

The candles flickered softly. She let out a slow breath and put her palm flat on the worn wooden desk.

There was soft violin music playing behind her. It was Muggle, which she liked to listen to after hard sessions. She had seen minds that were broken before. She had put them back together. But Sirius Black was a different story. Wild magic wrapped around him like smoke, and grief and guilt mixed together. Somewhere, under it all, there was a boy who still believed in loyalty.

She could feel it again—the storm inside of him. The magic that was swirling under his skin was torn and frayed like old parchment.

She thought he was broken. He is a threat. And nice. And wanting to be whole.

She shut her eyes and said softly, "Please let me help him find peace."

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The next morning was cloudy.

The waves hit the cliffs harder. The leaves moved even though there was no wind.

"You will bring me the boy," Voldemort whispered over a fire in a cave far away. The firelight made shadows of snakes on his pale face. "And this time, he won't get away."

Something old moved under the roots deep in the Forbidden Forest.

Severus Snape stood in front of a mirror at Hogwarts that had been forgotten for a long time. His reflection looked back at him with a pale, empty gaze.

He said to the silence, "It's almost time."

And above the manor, the first storm cloud came in. It was old, slow, and coiling. After that, it was so quiet that even the birds stopped singing.

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