Duplicity

Sirius Black had danced the lines of allegiance all his life. He always thought of it as a dance, one of those dances in which you circled the room, pacing and grasping hands with so many others that only another expert could tell who your true partner was. Until the end, when you slowed to a halt beside the one whose steps so perfectly matched your own. A whirling, moving pattern of perfect structure, masked as chaos and disorder.

Growing up, he was taught a great deal about loyalty. Over and over he traced the golden weavings of familial bonds, learning his letters from the celestial names enchanted onto the tapestry. He was told that family was important, that he owed his life to those who had come before him, and that the people around him were his and he should die before betraying them.

It seemed to Sirius that it was very easy to betray his family. Bullying his brother, annoying his cousins, being rude to his mother: all of these apparently brought shame on his line and were a poor repayment for the luxuries he enjoyed. But as he grew older he grew to understand that this was not really disloyalty; you could remain faithful to those for whom you cared while carelessly flouting their every wish. What mattered was that you still loved them.

This attitude made him a perfect fit for Gryffindor; the Lions might claim loyalty but were in reality dominated by their wilful natures and had not much care for those who got in the way of what they felt was right. First years were tortured and pranks were played with merry carelessness, and Sirius led the parade of fun, weaving the weaknesses of his friends into amusement. He never knew of the hurt he left in his wake; never saw the humiliation of the victims of his tomfoolery; if challenged he would blithely reply that it had just been a joke. And at the same time he flirted with his family ties, crossing the line of what was acceptable for the heir of the House of Black again and again, but always knowing he could return at any time to his birthright.

But one day the dance of merriment led him into so fast a jig that not even his closest friends could tell with whom he really stepped in time. He led his close friend Remus and his enemy Snape into a confrontation that should have been fatal; and only James' closing ranks against him prevented tragedy. The next day brought narrowed eyes and cold faces, and for the first time Sirius understood that some things could not be laughed away. The bitter guilt settled deep into a stomach that was unused to such heavy fare.

His apology was stilted and sounded false to friend and foe alike. Most people assumed that he had no real regrets; that he only wished to evade consequences. But the truth was that Sirius's mind was far away at the time for repentance; he was lost in this new discovery, that what he did mattered.

He had always assumed that things would go on forever as they were; that he could always play both sides of the fence and never commit to any real values. But the biting remorse told him that things were different now; he had changed in this time away from his family, and the world had changed too, demanding harder choices, firmer ideals. It was time to learn to take a stand, to decide with certainty between right and wrong.

It was this revelation that led to his leaving home only a few months later. He finally understood that he could not forever play on the side of darkness and expect to be untouched by it. If he stayed, then he had a duty to the House of Black and the allegiance that it had chosen, and that way madness lay, of which he had a perfect example in his cousin. The pretence of familial loyalty had to end now, before it was too late.

Rapt in all these new decisions, he didn't notice the changes in those around him. He didn't see the hurt hardening into distrust in Remus's eyes, as he appeared to pass over his crime as if it were nothing. He didn't see the disappointment in Peter's face at the fallibility of his hero, destined to blossom one day into a fatal betrayal. And he entirely missed the faint air of disgust coming from almost everyone at his abandonment of his family home; with no obvious motives such as Andromeda had had, it was regarded as teenage callousness and trouble-making, an overly dramatic move driven by selfishness and a desire for attention.

Sirius Black was slowing his pace to more clearly match the movements of his true loved ones, but he still danced too fast for most of the plainspoken Order members. And so when Harry Potter ended the dance so unexpectedly, Sirius was caught entirely on the wrong side of the floor. And he paid the price for twelve years.

Sharply paced like death and tango rolled into one, their steps were perfectly matched in the fatal dance of war. The duel might look like chaos, but that was because the most powerful wizarding family had not stayed on top for so long by being predictable. The curses thrown seemingly at random were part of an ancient language of magic. Sirius blushed with shame that he still could step so flawlessly in time with this most evil of sorceresses. After all this time, had nothing changed?

And so when she broke the rules, changed the pattern, he found redemption. He was not like her; he had changed, would not be ruthless and cruel as she was. The world would know him as one who loved, one who stood by his godson's side at any cost.

He died laughing.

A/N: Written for the Quotes Remix challenge; "Sharply paced like death and tango rolled into one" is from "Last Tango Before Shattering" by Inkfire.