It had been some time, since Slythrein left me alone.
After a heartpour, I was feeling lightheaded now. I don't know how long I sat there, back against the cold stone, staring at nothing.
My chest still ached, but the storm had passed, leaving behind only the dull weight of exhaustion.
It's hard to accept but crying does wonder. The weight, the burden, everything was still here... I just got ready to carry it forward now.
Better than before.
I pushed myself up slowly, legs stiff, head heavy, and followed the faint glow deeper into the cave.
There he was.
Slythrein sat in the dim light, Slythra curled up asleep beside him.
His frame seemed gentler now, one hand resting near her as though he was patting her. And maybe he was.
When his eyes lifted to me, the cold edge I had come to expect wasn't there. Instead, he gave me a small, quiet smile... the kind an old man offers without words,
'Welcome back.' was what it said.
"You alright now, boy?"he asked, voice low and even, carrying both sternness and care.
I gave a slow nod, my throat still rough. "Yeah… I think so. Lighter, at least."
The words felt clumsy, but they were true.
For now, I wasn't choking on everything I carried.
Slythrein's eyes held mine for a moment, then he gave the faintest smile,
"Good. It takes strength to let it out."
" So... " I took a deep breath, preparing myself, "What else can you tell me? I need to know everything Slytherin. From the start "
Slythrein studied me in silence for a moment. Then he gave a slow nod,
"Alright," he said. "Sit. It will take a while."
I lowered myself onto the stone across from him. The air felt heavy, as though the cave itself was listening.
"I will tell you what I can, but some things even I do not know. I cannot give you your fate, nor say who you truly are meant to be. Your mother… she guarded her past more fiercely than anyone I have known. And I did not pry. She chose silence, and I chose to respect it"
His eyes softened, but the weight in his tone remained.
"But I can tell you how you came to be here, what bond ties us, and the truth of your mother. Her choices, and what they cost her"
He leaned back slightly, the shadows clinging to the hollows of his face.
"You seek to understand yourself. Then we begin with her, because it is through her that you stand here at all."
-----
Slytherin leaned back slightly, his gaze settling on Sirius as if weighing how much truth to place before him.
When he finally spoke, his tone carried the weight of old memory.
"She came to me when she was not yet thirty. Two months with you in her belly, battered and worn down to the bone. She could hardly stand. I have known her maternal family for a long time,her mother, her grandmother, her great grandmother before that. My father knew them too. The bond between our lines went back five, six generations on their side, and at least three on mine. Old ties. The kind you don't keep with constant talk, but when it matters, you stand. Family friends, if you must. "
"We weren't the sort where you shared every day, or even spoke often. More like where, when the moment came, you stood up for each other. And when she came to me like that, asking for help, I didn't turn her away."
He paused, then added, his voice lowering. "But that day, when she asked for my help, we made it by blood. A bond sealed in mana. From then on, she was under my protection, as if she were my own."
Slytherin's eyes softened. "It wasn't a bond of partner or equal in arms. She was kin in all the ways that mattered, and I promised her protection. As long as she remained here, you and her were under my guard. That was the bond."
Sirius sat quiet for a long while after that, his eyes lowered. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but the words stuck in his throat.
When he finally lifted his head, his voice was tight, controlled.
"Do you know… who my father was?"
Slythrein's expression did not change at once. He had expected the question.
"No," he said, plain and firm. "That, she never told me and I didn't press her. "
Sirius' lips parted as if to ask again, but instead he shook his head slightly and shifted the question. "Then why? Why was she like that when she came to you? Battered… broken?"
"I cannot give you all the reasons," he admitted. "Back then, i wasn't sure about it myself. I knew the world outside was in turmoil. The crown, the houses, the throne; all were in chaos. And your mother, was at the center of it. Why, I hadn't known."
He paused, his tone steady, but lower now.
"She never spoke the names of those who hurt her. She never let me see the whole of it. All I could do was give her shelter. Protect her here, in this forest, where the reach of those people did not run so deep."
"You mean to say… she stayed here all those years, and you never asked her why? Never asked her what she was running from?"
The guardian gave a small shake of his head. "When you grow old, boy, you learn to be less interested in these affairs. If she had wanted me to know, she would have told me. She was like a daughter to me, all that mattered was that she was safe here. Safe…"
He paused then, the weight of memory pressing down on his voice. His gaze drifted toward the fire, the shadows tugging at the lines of his face.
"Until she wasn't."
The silence hung, heavier than stone, before he went on.
"The day it happened, I remember it clearly. I got to know about it all then, but by then... it was too late."