17 17

1975, 26 December.

Polari said, 'just leave,' and he did. Sirius Orion Black left. His brother left.

He was gone, and Polaris didn't know how he was supposed to feel. Right now, he was angry, confused, sad- he was feeling every emotion he didn't want to feel, yet he was breathing like he couldn't get enough air. Perhaps the air was giving up just as Sirius had done. He felt like he couldn't breathe with his mind clouded. Memories of them together, all there, yet there would no more to be made.

He didn't care how his magic began to listen to his emotions. He didn't stop it. He didn't care how he couldn't breathe with the thickness of his magic in the air. He let it swirl around, destroying it all. He was soothing, letting his magic run wild.

Sirius had always been trouble, always looking for it. He was the definition of trouble.

When Polaris was three, he had convinced him their father was dying. He spent a whole day crying and clinging to their father, scared he would no longer be there the next day. Apparently, it had been an accident. Perhaps it was Sirius' wild imagination, hoping he did die, and he had heard it. He wasn't sure how it happened. He remembered how Sirius had hugged him, trying to get him to stop crying. He remembered how he had got in trouble for lying to him. It took a week to fully convince the three-year-old Polaris that his father wasn't planning on dying anytime soon.

When Polaris was four, Sirius had told him a story of 'The Grim'. He told the curious four-year-old of a large, black, menacing spectral dog, who was an omen of death, which brought about the demise of anyone who encountered it. He told him Grims like four-year-olds, that scared Polaris. It was silly he had believed it, but who wouldn't believe their older brother at that innocent age. All three of them were playing in the garden of the Black Manor, Sirius, Regulus and himself. That's when Sirius 'screamed,' telling Polaris there was a grim there. Polaris screamed, crying, running back to the Manor. Agin Sirius was in trouble after the adults tried consoling the four-year-old that a grim wasn't planning on eating him alive.

When Polaris was five, Sirius told him a story about a North star that was so still in the dark sky, the entire northern sky moved around it, a dog and a King with a lion's heart. First came the Dog, then the King, then last came the star. It was a story Polaris loved just as much as Regulus did. Only later on did he realise the story was about them. Polaris was that north star, Regulus was the king with a lion's heart, and Sirius was the dog, all referring to the meaning of their names.

When Polaris was six, he started to notice how his mother treated Sirius. He remembered the hushed tones of his parents when Sirius was around. I confused him. Then he realised it was because Sirius was 'different', but he didn't realise nor understand what was to be meant by that. With time, he understood. Sirius liked muggles. He liked muggle things. Sirius wanted to go to school like muggles, which Polaris didn't understand. Didn't they have to wait until they were 11 to go to Hogwarts? His mother hadn't been happy. She had sent Sirius to bed without supper.

When Polaris was seven, Sirius had somehow saved his life. It was an experience the whole family would rather just forget and pretend didn't happen. From then on, he wasn't exactly allowed to move from their side if they passed through muggle London. He couldn't really remember the details, but he knew he was about to be run over by a muggle vehicle, but instead of getting hit, he was pushed, pushed by Sirius, and in turn, Sirius had hurt his arm. Which left Polaris guilty when their mother decided not to use magic to fix it instead of letting Sirius learn his lesson even though it was Polaris' fault. His mother wouldn't have any of it when he tried telling her. Sirius just told him to leave it. It didn't matter. He was glad Polaris was safe…

Even though Sirius was trouble, he was brave. He cared for his brothers enough to risk his life, yet he left.

Sirius had enough. Perhaps Regulus and himself should have risked 'their' lives to save Sirius.

His father walked into his room, a look on his face Polaris couldn't read. The man took one look at his youngest that was on the floor, then to the room that was no longer what it was, perhaps a horrific mural of what it once was

"You shouldn't be letting this get to you. You've let it all out, haven't you?" Orion said as he glanced around the room, feeling the magic in the air, he hadn't it. He looked back to his youngest, who merely continued to stare at the wall in front of him.

He looked about at the destruction. This wasn't accidental magic, he concluded. His son had done this on purpose. It was incredible.

"Yes, father", Polaris whispered, "I have gotten it out. I won't let it faze me", he continued as he finally stood up, looking at his father.

Orion nodded, "Good, you're a Black. Blacks shouldn't be fazed. You shouldn't dwell in the past, Sirius is no longer with us, and that shall remain the same tomorrow and the day after. Leave it all in the past. Move forward. Your future doesn't need Sirius." Orion said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Polaris nodded in understanding, "Yes." He whispered. He looked up at the man, "Do you miss him?" he asked hesitantly.

Orion's face hardened, "He was my son Polaris, but he has made his choice just as you are making a choice to move on." That was the reply Polaris had gotten. He noticed how his father neither confirmed he missed Sirius nor didn't. He noticed how his father had used 'was' instead of 'is'. His father had already left him in the past, just as he was expecting Polaris to do.

His father raised his wand, and Polaris watched as his room was returned to its original state.

1976, 6 January.

Polaris stared out the window of the Hogwarts train with a glum expression spread across his face. It felt as though it was just yesterday. He was on the very same train coming back home for Yule. He remembered how he felt something bad would occur, and strangely it did.

He leaned his head against the cold glass window listening to the rain that was pouring on the other side of the glass.

Yule was definitely not as joyous as it could have been with Sirius leaving. Everything seemed to much quiet with his presence missing, Regulus didn't seem to care one bit, but he could tell how he was more closed off- more than usual.

He knew that his mother had a word with Regulus after Sirius had left, and since then, Regulus just seemed a bit 'off'. There wasn't really much to say between the two siblings, seeing as Regulus didn't make much of an effort with him.

Polaris was still trying to figure out what was going on in his father's head. After learning that Sirius had left, there was nothing on the man's face. He took the news as though it was an everyday occurrence, although he did leave the house, no doubt to the Black manor to meet with his grandfather.

On the other hand, his mother seemed like a heavy load had been taken off of her, she seemed more at ease with Sirius gone- more relaxed, and it bothered Polaris to no end.

The family dynamics had completely changed, but then again, were they really a 'family'?

He was sat alone in the carriage for the peace and quiet, not particularly wanting anyone questioning him at the moment, which he knew was bound to happen as the rumours of his brother's disownment was being spread like wildfire. No doubt it wasn't his cousin Bellatrix, who seemed ecstatic with him gone.

'No blood traitor shall be in this family,' she said.

The speculations on the reason his brother was no longer an heir of the House of Black were ridiculous. He remembered reading one written by someone called 'Rita Skeeter', a name he had only recently heard when she wrote the article called, 'Trouble in the House of Black'. Rather bizarre, really, something about his mother demanding Sirius battle Regulus for the tile of heirship.

The following day, lessons were back to normal.

It was Tuesday, and on Tuesday mornings, he had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. A lesson they shared with the Ravenclaws.

He was already sat, unfortunately, in this class. They had assigned seats. He wasn't sure what happened, but apparently, they had been talking too much amongst each other, and she then decided to have them in assigned seats, mixing up the Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Personally, he believed it was because she had Slytherins. If it had been Gryffindors in the class, she wouldn't have done it, giving them a chance, which was unfair. Then again, everyone had their own prejudice.

He was sat between two Ravenclaws. On his left was Rena Wills, a half-blood, and on his right was Wilson Gregg, a pureblood. Usually, he would talk to them, in moments their teacher allowed it as she was busy with deciding something, or maybe she had left the class only for a moment, but at this moment where she had left the class momentarily, this class was filled with shatter.

Polaris said not a word. He didn't feel like it. Rena and Wilson respected that, likely hearing what was happing in his family- what had happened. Though they still included him in their own way, glancing at him from time to time.

He was sure they were trying to make him laugh with their 'jokes', but they were just not funny, but it was amusing to see them try to cheer him up. He didn't need to be cheered up. He wasn't upset, nor was he happy. He was just… he wasn't sure how to explain how he was feeling.

Finally, their Professor came back, "Alright, students, we can commence. I will not tolerate any ridiculous attempts to show off", she said, then glanced at a particular Ravenclaw who flushed at her gaze. "We had seen before what happens."

They all stood at their desk, attempting the spell of transfiguring the needle they had on their desks into a shoe. He pointed his own wand at the needle before him and chanted the spell confidently. He already knew what he was doing.

Immediately the needle shimmered and transformed fluidly into a shoe that was an exact copy of the pair he was wearing today. Looking around, he could see people still performing the spell through trial and error. Looking to his left, he could see Wilson mispronouncing the spell, while on the left, listening to Rena, he could tell she was putting too much force on the spell.

It was rather easy. The formula for Transfiguration was directly influenced by bodyweight, viciousness, wand power and concentration.

He didn't say anything, though. That was their problem, not his. If they wanted, they could ask for help.

"You've done it already?" Rena asked him, jealousy laced in her voice, as she stared at the shoe. Polaris nodded. "It wasn't hard. Just keep trying. I'm sure you'll get it eventually." He told the girl.

"Mr Black, Miss Wills, I would prefer if you paid attention to performing the spell rather than talking." Their Proffessors voice rang out, looking at them with her stern gaze. Polaris refrained from rolling his eyes. Perhaps she really did dislike him, seeing at the two Ravnelcasws in front of them were talking louder than they had been.

"Sorry, professor, I was just surprised Polaris was finished." Rena lightly replied as she glanced at his shoe again. Now with their professor also looking at it, she didn't seem surprised. Surprisingly he had been given an Oustanding. He was expecting an 'E'.

"As expected. Five points to Slytherin for a quick transfiguration. Perhaps you can attempt returning the Shoe back to its original form, Mr Black, perhaps with succeeding, you will receive more points for your House." She spoke again, and he nodded, looking back to his task.

He ignored the glances from the other students and attempted to return the shoe back, which didn't work on the first attempt.

The class ended quickly enough, giving the Slytherins a free period before their next class.

"Do you think it's possible to transfigure a wand?" Corvus asked from Polaris' left

"Maybe… I mean, why wouldn't we be able to? We can literally transfigure anything other than those that we can't, which we already know." Aaron responded from his right.

Corvus walked behind Polaris to this other side towards Aaron, "Here, give me your wand." Corvus told the boy.

"What? Are you mad? You're not going to transfigure my wand!" Aaron yelled at Corvus, "What, why?" Corvus asked, confused.

Polaris smiled, looking away. Corvus was really asking why after telling us he had gotten an Acceptable. A grade just above failing.

"You got an A in transfiguration. Are you really trying to get me to trust your 'skills'?" Aaron drawled, holding his wand tightly. Corvus rolled his eyes, "I didn't really get an A. Well, I did, but I would have done better than that if I had finished the written test. I didn't realise I didn't have time to ponder that Rabbit question." Corvus spoke, then looked to Polaris for help, "Go on, tell him I'm decent."

The amused Polaris indulged him, "He's decent." He said, speaking for the first time they had left the class.

Aaron frowned as he stared at the opened palm of Corvus Avery and groaned, placing it in the boy's hand. Before they could say another word, Corvus said a spell that confused Polaris because that shouldn't be a spell Corvus should have used. Seeing as it was a spell that transfigured a stick into a matchbox. A wand wasn't simply a stick, but Corvus just assumed it would work because in his mind, 'It's a big stick'.

Aaron why beyond mad, with a broken wand, which ended up with a lecture from Ms McGonagall.

Later in the afternoon, Aaron had been allowed to go to Diagon Alley to get another wand.