the_debt_of_time

Remus had made it easy for her to do what Future Remus's letter instructed: Live your life.
Enjoy your life. Her boys made it a simple thing to do just that. But lately, with Remus pulling
away from her, and Sirius constantly getting into fights, she was reminded that these boys
would grow up to become the wounded men she had known for years.
She could see the beginnings of Sirius breaking, and it broke her heart to know his
future and not be able to stop it.
She missed Sirius. Her Sirius.
For a moment, she could pretend that the boy holding her hand innocently in the
Gryffindor common room was the man who had kissed her passionately in the caved-in
passageway. She could pretend that it was the day after her nineteenth birthday, and she
was at home at number twelve, sitting on the sofa in the drawing room, holding Sirius's
hand. They would talk about the life debt ritual, and he would explain to her what he knew
about the bond that had happened because of it. She would ask him why he had kissed her
in the middle of the battle. And, if she were very, very lucky, he would say it was because
he wanted to. Not because of magic.
Mia opened her eyes and looked over at the thirteen-year-old boy sitting next to
her, nervously licking the cut on his lip as he stared off into the flames, deep in thought.
Sometimes, this Sirius was easier to deal with. She did not feel much of a magical
bond with him—just an itchy emptiness that tugged needily inside of her—which brought
both annoyance and relief at the same time. Annoyance, because she knew he would grow
up to be that beautiful man who had kissed her until her toes curled. Relief, because he was
safe. Without a mystical bond to pull him toward her, Mia could trust that this Sirius said
and did what he really wanted to. He was honest.
"What happened with your family? When you and Regulus were gone?"
Lost in his own thoughts, Sirius shook his head and leant against her as visions of
Malfoy Manor and Narcissa's engagement party ran through his head. Bellatrix had tortured
her own sister with the Cruciatus Curse, and no one had done a thing about it save for him
and Alphard. Even then, they had not made much of a difference.
Andromeda had been blasted off the tree the moment they got home, and Walburga
made him watch her do it. Then, at wand point and with a Blood Quill in hand, he had
been forced to write the words of his House—Toujours Pur—repeatedly until they were