Disclaimer, not mine, I wish they were.
Prologue: The tapestry, cures, and veiled secrets
Sirius Black was bored. He hated being stuck at 14 Grimmald place.
Just because the stupid ministry was after him for a crime he didn't commit, didn't mean he had to be stuck indoors.
God this place held so many memories.
He could see in his mind's eye Reg hitting his drum kit, Meda and Cissa with the microphones, Bella playing the piano and Nova with the guitar. He winced as he pictured what came next.
His mother and aunt coming in and shrieking at them, Casanova looking innocent as only a four year old could, the others trying, and failing, to imitate him.
Sirius hadn't even joined in, but, as the heirs, he and Bellatrix got it worst. Andromeda, Narcissa and Regulus all got yelled at, too.
It was absurdly unfair as, as the youngest, Casanova didn't get in trouble at all.
The year after that, Sirius, along with Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa and Regulus was placed on the tapestry and packed off to Hogwarts. He never saw his baby brother again.
The official consensus was that he had died of a fever. The black cousins privately believed he had been murdered.
Sirius sighed, looked up at the old tapestry and cried. Casanova had never lived to be added to the tapestry.
He plucked up his courage. Maybe he had never been added, but he would be now.
This would be Sirius' final tribute to his brother, to the tortured genius who had cured himself, his uncle and cousins of their Lycanthropy.
Yes, Casanova had been a genius.
Sirius smirked slightly. He had been better at potions when he was four than Snape would be if he studied for the rest of his life.
The smirk wavered and died as he thought of the good times he had had with his little brother.
Of Casanova sliding into bed with him after a nightmare, of his tears after Fenrir Greyback's attack, of the subsequent transformations, of his determined search for a cure, and his jubilation after its discovery, a discovery that, had he lived to record it properly, would have revolutionized the wizarding world.
And, finally, of the last time he saw him, a few days before he went to Hogwarts. Casanova had clung to him, looking up with big grey eyes. He had pleaded with him not to go.
To this day, Sirius didn't know why.
He concentrated, and Casanova's name appeared on the tapestry. He looked at it, and then stared. The dates were wrong; there was only one, a birth date.
There should have been two, the date from the official-sounding letter he had received from his parents.
Sirius groaned. A thorough search of his brother's room, which hadn't been touched since his… well, disappearance, was in order.
An hour later, and his desperate search had yielded nothing. He turned sadly to the one thing he hadn't checked, Casanova's guitar case.
More flashbacks, this time of him tuning his guitar and stroking the wood lovingly, filled his brain.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the lid.
The case was empty. An envelope was tucked into the bottom corner of the case. With trembling fingers Sirius took it. It had his name on it, written in rounded, childish writing.
I don't have much time; mother's put me under the Imperius charm. I can't fight it for much longer. She means me to be her eyes, to look and report on your behavior. It isn't your fault. She thinks that as you are a Gryffindor you need to be looked after. I won't be allowed to talk to you or acknowledge you in any way, unless it's hatred. I also will be a Slytherin, I have to be or she has sworn to kill me, to 'rectify the mistake' as she put it.
But I want you to remember something Siri, You are my brother and I love you. I will always love you and respect you no matter what. Even if I 'hate' you, it'll just be an act. Please, find this someday and set me free. I love you my brother. I enclose the ingredients for the cure, along with directions as to its use. I see you needing it someday to help a friend.
P.S, I've taken the guitar and shrunk it. If you ever see a lonely boy cradling something in his hand, it'll be me.
P.P.S, It is NOT your fault!
Sirius roared with anger. How dare that hag place Casanova, his brother, under the Imperius! Nova had been five, and had never deserved what his mother had done to him.
He shook with unshed tears, curled himself into a ball and rocked himself to sleep. He knew that it wasn't his fault, but he blamed himself, and would forever.
The next morning he went back to the envelope, took out the sheet and scanned it mentally. Some of the directions were so hard that he doubted even Snape could brew it, much left himself.
But he had to; it was Remus' only hope for a normal life.
An hour later and the potion was cooling rapidly. He needed to floo it to Remus. Taking out his own copy of the Marauders map, he scanned it and sighed with relief at the dot in Remus' office. He took up a pinch of silvery-grey moon powder, and thrust it into the flames. He them shouted the place name, and thrust his head and the arm holding the potion into the flames.
"Remus," he called, and the werewolf turned in surprise, and then dropped his books in total shock at the potion Sirius was holding.
"Is that, could that be…"
"It's the cure Remmy, Nova left me the cure!"
"What, but, if it's recorded, then your brother will be famous as the discoverer. And won't that put people's backs up!"
"Of course, Remus, of course, am I glad you're a marauder!"
Remus took the bottle and swallowed the liquid inside it. He let out a tortured cry. His insides were on fire! He could feel the werewolf being burned away, leaving only he himself behind. His eyes filled with happy tears as he looked up at Sirius.
"I'm free, I'm cured, I'm normal again!"
"It worked? Brilliant."
"I can't wait to see Snape's face"
"No," he said in a choked whisper, "no, he can't be, not, not HIM!"
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