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cratlord · 1 year

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Timely Picture Chapter 3

Sirius Black wakes up after spending 20 years trapped in a portrait by his own family. When Old magics are invoked, and ancient entities recognized, how will events change? How differently does everything play out when Harry gets a few more snakes in his corner, namely, the true face of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, one of the few houses who still remember the old ways? As always when a story involves the House of Black, things go to madness quickly

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A few days to settle in had turned into a week and a half. Sirius was settled into what had once been his fathers office, where he had moved Orion’s portrait, where he was just putting the finishing touches on a letter he was writing to his new legal team. Those poor bastard really had their work cut out for them. Apart from his own freedom, which he needed to secure sooner rather than later, there was also quite a few people he needed to file suit on for their swindling of Black family assets while his golem had been in Azkaban. While the cat’s away and all that.

He ran his hand through his hair as he waited for the ink to dry. His week had been quite productive, really, but it just shown light on how much really needed to be done. He needed to find some allies quickly, because if his week of paperwork and information gathering had taught him anything, it was that he wasn’t nearly ready to run the Black family business empire yet.

The Law Offices of Fawley and Selwin had been a magic sent, as he knew of their reputation for pure honesty and trustworthiness in regards to business. Already they had found him a new more suitable steward for the house’s holdings, as well as initiated proceedings to get him a trial. They figured it would be an open and shut case. For one thing, his golem was the one who was accused, for another, even the golem was innocent. They were painting the whole thing as Sirius being an innocent victim of multiple misdeeds from unknown perpetrators, likely after the family’s assets. After all, Orion and Walburga both had plenty of enemies. Apparently the current minister was in the process of getting sacked, so it was the perfect opportunity to slip in a controversial trial, as it could just be painted as just another example of the old administrations corruption.

That was just the legal side of things. When it came to the war, it was even messier. Apparently his golem had offered Grimmauld Place as a home base for some group led by Dumbledore called the Order of the Phoenix. Even after his golem’s death, they were still in the townhouse for meetings almost every night. There were several dozen members, and they seemed to operate in cells, with seemingly only Dumbledore himself knowing what all of them were doing. He was spying using the portraits and his own mastery of the house itself. So far, they had no idea he was still here. A couple of them had reported whispers of the Black estate stirring, but nobody knew who was behind it or what their goal was. The running theory was Narcissa Malfoy.

That had been gag worthy news. He could hardly believe his cousin had gone through with marrying that pompous ass. Last he remembered she was almost as irritated by his arrogance as the rest of the family seemed to be. Must have been a business match… the Malfoy’s did have a lot of money after all, but lacked in English holdings. Most of their financial base was still on the continent, in France and Belgium. Perhaps he had mellowed out over the years, but based on their reports, it didn’t sound promising for her. Their poor kid. Little fucker never stood a chance.

The Order did have a lot of information, but they also just seemed to be as lost on what to actually do as he was. The dark lord certainly used his year incognito to its fullest. They had slivers of so many potential plots, but no bigger picture, and no certainty on exactly how far the taint of evil had spread so far. The paper was increasingly depressing, and only a couple weeks after the announcement of the dark lords return and already people were fleeing England in droves.

From what Sirius could tell, the Order was also a very reactionary force. Dumbledore, for some reason or other, seemed opposed to any plan that could be considered taking initiative. It was like the old codger was waiting for something and only he knew what. Either that, or he knew something extremely important that nobody else did. He was very careful to have everybody avoid a direct confrontation anywhere that Voldemort could potentially show up in person. It made Sirius wonder if the old man knew about the horcruxes.

His followers though, lacked that information and it was obvious. Several of them were muttering mutinously behind his back and Sirius wondered at how long it would be before they began acting outside of orders and getting themselves killed. It was frustrating to watch. Even he knew this was not how to fight a war. Some casualties were inevitable, but if he was going to try and keep everyone alive till he could, possibly, hunt down the horcruxes, then he really needed to be more open with his people. As it was, it just looked like he didn’t have the balls to do what was necessary. Meanwhile, innocent uninvolved muggles and muggleborn’s were paying the price.

There was also very little word on Harry. Sirius had heard all about his little adventure in the DOM which had gotten the golem killed. It sounded traumatic. And apparently Dumbledore’s idea of giving the kid space to deal with it was to send him to his relatives, which Regulus had told Orion were awful to him. As soon as he was ready, he was going to have to go rescue him. No way in hell was Sirius letting his best mate’s kid rot in a shit hole filled with hateful wankers.

The ink was dry. There really was no more putting things off. As soon as this letter reached his barrister, they would be off to the ministry to hand it to Amelia Bones, the current head of the DMLE. That would be the final step required before the scheduling of the trial itself, which would be a matter of public record. She had been working with Selwin to get the details of his case, and had apparently already wrapped up her side of the investigation. Apparently all it took was a few memories from Remus and Snape of all people to prove his innocence. She was framing it as a post mortum investigation, which is required for any person who dies on Ministry property.

There would be no hiding after that happened.

He sealed the letter in an official looking envelope, pressing his signet ring into the wax activating the magic of it. Only Amelia would be able to open it now, and she would be able to trust beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it was Sirius himself who put that letter in there.

It would definitely mean his life would take a turn for the hectic. The elves would be thrilled though. All but Kreature had been restricted to the Manor, leaving the Townhouse to decay to a truly horrendous state. Kreature himself was not well. According to the other elves, he had been slowly going mad due to an order he hadn’t been able to complete which was given to him by his brother before Reg’s death. Even after Sirius had blasted the horcrux with fiendfire, it would take time before the poor elf would be able to recover. Even over a week later, the poor thing still burst into hysterical tears of thanks every time Sirius saw him. Once he reclaimed the townhouse he would put Kreature back to work where he belonged. In the kitchen. Kreature had always been their chef and pantry keeper. Going back to it could be just what the little blighter needed to sort his mind out. Elves were powerful beings, but at the end of the day, they were simple little people with simple needs and desires.

He handed the letter to a plain barn owl Selwin had given him to use. The bird took it, fluffing up and standing a little taller. It it nodded one last time to him self importantly before leaping off the perch and out the window. Sirius chuckled, amused at the birds antics. It was a borderline boring looking owl, with almost no distinguishing markings, but it was just so pompous. It was a bird with a ‘very important job, thank you very much’. It was clear the world would stop turning if he didn’t deliver his letters in a timely manor. He watched the silly creature for a bit as it made a direct line for the office, which was only a few miles away in Diagon Alley.

Eventually the bird began to descend in the distance, and he couldn’t see it anymore around the buildings of London. He turned back around to the office he had made his.

As a child, he had always looked at this room in wonder. His fathers home office. This was where he filled out his paperwork for the Black family estate and the Hogwarts Board of Governors, where he would one day run the family Wisengamot seat. It had always seemed like such an important place.

The room sure looked impressive enough. Sirius hadn’t changed much when he took it over, enjoying the drama of the setup. It had impressive ornate double doors, carved with two swooping ravens over a grim. The animals from the family crest. Once in the doors, one would get a view of an expensive traditional office. The room had dark wooden beams, trim ornately carved into patterns of vines creeping around the room, veined in silver. There was another black marble mantle in here, but unlike the dining room, this one was also veined in silver. There were several sturdy bookshelves, and a set of file drawers near the desk. Portraits of previous heads of house were hung between the shelves, all life size and stately paintings, a couple of which were painted in this very room, though some of the furniture had been changed since then. Everything was lit by a magical ambient sort of light, which seemed to shine from the ceiling itself, and was easy on the eyes like a toned down sunlight in color. It was lit like there was always afternoon sunlight shining from a nearby window, but with no visible light source. The desk itself was magnificent. It was a piece commissioned by his grandfather Arcturus. It was huge and ornately carved, with no less than a dozen ravens hidden in the patterns on the desks sides. Each drawer had silver grims head with a loop in it’s mouth for handles. The whole thing screamed ‘Black family aesthetic.’ The whole room was so ridiculous and extra he loved it.

Taking one last look around, he figured it was time to make his grand entrance into the townhouse. Looking to his grandfather Arcturus, he asked, “Who is currently at the townhouse?”

Arcturus, a much younger version than Sirius had ever met, smirked. “According to Phineas as of about an hour ago, the only current guests are Mr. Lupin, Andromeda’s daughter Dora, and an auror named Kingsley Shacklebot who is asleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

He lifted an eyebrow at the abnormally snarky look on the man, but didn’t acknowledge it. He had found out in the last week that he may have gotten his sense of humor from Arcturus, which meant he knew the old man wouldn’t give up a thing if he thought it would be funnier if Sirius walked in on it and found out the hard way. Sirius decided he would play along. After all, it wasn’t like there was much for a portrait to do through the day. Perhaps they would all get a good laugh out of whatever it was.

With a polite word of thanks, he turned and made his way towards one of the connecting halls the Manor shared with the Townhouse. The Manor itself truly was a marvel of magic. Technically it didn’t exist in the physical plane at all, being in a pocket dimension where there existed expansive grounds and perfect weather. The marvelous part though, was how it seamlessly interacted with the real world. Within the confines of the estate, the land truly looked as it did before London was build around and throughout it. Gently sloping hills, beautiful gardens, even a small forest with a herd of unicorns and many other magical creatures. It was this land that you saw when you looked out the windows of the Manor. The only way into the manor though, was through the Townhouse. They connected on every floor, as if the manor was an extension of the house. Each hallway in the townhouse opened up into the manor from every side, if one had the required Black blood in their veins. There were also certain rooms which existed in both houses simultaneously, one but separate. Each of the main family members bedrooms as well as the Lord’s office were such rooms. That meant they could see whichever dimension they wanted when they looked out the windows of those particular rooms.

This also meant it was always a short walk to get from Manor to Townhouse and visa versa. Sirius simply walked out of the office, down the first floor hall to the end and simply had to keep going. He didn’t though. He stopped right at the border between the two homes, looking through the now invisible barrier.

It appeared there were now more than simply three people. The hall itself was empty, but he could hear the sounds of people discussing something that sounded important. Their voices were muffled, as if they were drifting from downstairs. Wanting to know what he was about to walk into, he turned around and made his way to the ground floor hallway. Turning about from the grand stairs he went down the short hall behind them till he got the the barrier to the entry hall of the Townhouse. Peeking through, he heard a few people arguing, being drowned out by the maddened screams of his mothers insults. Merlin that woman had lungs on her.

It was a group of six people, all he recognized from the Order. He saw Moony standing just a hair closer than was his norm to Dora. An interesting tidbit Sirius filed away for later. They seemed to be content standing and watching the other four people arguing. The grizzled old auror named Moody was grumbling and bickering with the vagabond looking twit people called Dung. From the bits he could make out,they were debating whether it was safe to stay in the townhouse with it’s master dead. The smooth radio quality voice of Shacklebot seemed to be attempting to deescalate the situation. Meanwhile, one he thought was the oldest Weasley son seemed to be trying to get a read on the magic in the very walls of the manor, and appeared to be frustrated by the whole situation. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle at the man. If he was trying to unravel the secrets of Grimmauld, then good luck to him. Much greater wizards then him had tried.

Figuring there was no real good time to come back from the dead, Sirius decided to intervene. Besides, his mothers screaming was starting to get to him. Taking a deep breath, he began to walk forward. Oddly it was the raving portrait who noticed him first.

It was almost immediate. As soon as he stepped out of the wall his mother spotted him. She stopped screaming, making a sound almost like choking, as her hand flew to her mouth in a comic look of shock. The sudden silence is what got the attention of everyone else in the hall, but at this point Sirius only had eyes for his mum.

Finding out what had happened to her had hurt, really badly. Sure they fought like cats and dogs, but they always knew they were family. He never wanted to hurt her that badly. He had put off seeing her portrait because he wasn’t sure how she would react. His father had filled him in on how well Walburga had gotten along with the homunculus, and the eventual banishing of it from the house and the family. He had been worried that she wouldn’t be able to tell it was the real him.

It seemed he had been worried over nothing. The moment she laid eyes upon him, she seemed to know. Her shock seemed to have completely stunned her for a moment. Then, with tears forming in her painted eyes, she fell to her knees. “My boy…” she sobbed. “It’s really you? My perfect boy!”

Sirius couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at his lips. Of course she knew it was him. In the secret Black family tradition, her very soul was painted into that portrait, so of course she recognized her own son. He paid no attention to the exclamations of his other relatives as they proclaimed their astonishment at his return, nor did he pay any attention to the six very stunned people now gaping in his foyer. He went straight to his mother and knelt on the filthy floor in front of her portrait, putting him eye level with her. He put one hand to her portrait, where she put her hand on the other side, as if there was only glass between them and not death.

“I’m awake now, mother. I’m sorry I took so long to come home.” He felt his own emotions threaten to overwhelm him. His relief was like the first breath after finally breaking the surface after staying a bit too long underwater.

She was still crying, but had at least seemed to get her voice under control. “I told those fools that creature was not my son. I told them. Now here you are.” She took a moment to wipe the tears from her face. “Have you come home to take up your place as the lord of this house?”

He held back a chuckle. Of course that is what she would be concerned about. Then again, having seen the state of the townhouse, it was a valid concern. “Of course mother. I have reopened the Manor, you are free to join father whenever you wish.” He felt his magic release into the house as his words themselves became law within the house. His mother appeared to have felt it too. She smiled at him.

“Thank you, my sweet boy. I will go to see him now. You will come speak with me later?”

It was strange watching her. He knew the members of the family got painted when they were young and in their prime. When he had entered the foyer, she had looked older and more than a little mad. As she looked at her son, took in his magic and his presence, she seemed to be getting younger, more beautiful. She was looking already much more like the powerful and beautiful woman he remembered. She wiped her eyes once more before taking her feet and giving him a small curtsy, as befitting his new status as lord of the house. She grinned at him, then rushed out of her frame, probably to reunite with his father.

Sirius watched her go for a moment, then slowly got to his feet and turned to face the gaping intruders in his hall. They all stood silent, staring at each other, Sirius with a cocky look which had overcome his face when his mother left, and them with gaping looks of utter shock. Finally, Sirius didn’t think he could take anymore without just laughing at them, and based on what he had seen of the one called Moody, that would probably end with him being cursed.

“Hey Moony. You know, you grew up a lot more dashing than you said you would. I’m impressed.”

And he really was. His friend did have a few wrinkles, which was odd for a wizard considering he was only in his mid thirties, and a few gray hairs at his temples, but really it just gave him a distinguished look. His scars merely added to it. His soft light green eyes still shone with kindness, but everything else had gotten a big manly kind of vibe. He was taller, broader, and leaner than Sirius had anticipated him being. Built like a rock climber, lean muscle, with a rugged sort of scruff and messy hair. It all worked well with his librarian Chic fashion sense. All and all, he looked like the kind of man who would be an adorable snuggle monster, before throwing a bird over his shoulder to bring out the wicked wolf. He chuckled lightly at the thought. Well, his thoughts along with the fact that little Dora seemed to agree if her appraising side eye was anything to go by.

Remus, for his part, seemed to intensify his gaping, if that were possible. His mouth moved a couple of times, once even making a small grunting noise as if he just couldn’t remember how to form words.

The moment was broken by the pop of of Kreature appearing between them. The old ragged elf bowed low to Sirius. “Now that the master has unsealed the Manor, would he be liking the elves to cleanse the Townhouse?”

He looked down to the lanky little creature, bowed so low his bulbous nose was almost touching the ground. “Yes, Kreature. If you could please let the rest of them know that the cleaning of the townhouse is to take priority until it is passable to the family’s standards again. I would like for you personally to see to the kitchens. I will be wanting your best work, as we have guests.”

“Yes, Master.” With that he popped away. The other elves must have been listening in, as he heard several faint pops sound throughout the townhouse already signally the arrival of the cleaning crew.

“Well. Now that’s sorted,” Sirius clapped his hands in front of himself, then rubbed them together, a mischievous grin stretching across his face, “who wants a drink?”

He looked at all of them expectantly. The Weasley was the first to crack. “Bloody hell. It appears I could use one.”

Sirius took a couple steps towards him, thrusting out his right hand. “I’m Sirius, but you seem to have figured that out. Let’s have that drink and you can tell me what you are doing waving your wand around my walls.”

The man had the decency to look chagrined, rubbing the back of his neck a bit while shaking Sirius’ hand. “I’m Bill Weasley. And yeah, sorry about that mate. I thought you were dead. Obviously I was mistaken if you can manipulate this house so effortlessly.”

That comment seemed to have jolted the rest of them out of their stupors. Moody was quick on the draw, pulling his wand and instantly moving into a defensive stance. Remus reeled back, almost as if he had been struck. Dora and Shacklebot both pulled their wands, clearly following Moody’s lead, but it was clear by their posture it was more out of habit than any real sense of threat. Dung took a few steps back, obviously trying to get out of what was quickly escalating into a potential duel.

Sirius slowly put his hands up, his grin still full force. “Easy there, old timer. I would hate for you to strain something.”

He didn’t look amused. “What was the first thing I said to you when I saw you after Azkaban?”

Sirius rolled his eyes melodramatically. “How would I know. Must be a trick question. I have never been to Azkaban.” Moody’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Sirius decided to keep needling. “You know, you’re an ex-auror right? You should know it is illegal to send a minor to Azkaban.”

That seemed to be enough for the crazy bastard. His wand barely moved, but almost faster than Sirius could realize a sickly green spell was blasting out of it. Lucky for him though, this was the ancestral home of the Black family, and he was the Lord Black. The spell stopped almost a foot in front of his face and hovered there, like a bizarre green comet of malevolence. Within seconds tendrils of pure black magic began to pull themselves out of the floor, lazily wrapping themselves around the spell. The spell slowly shrank into nothing, being absorbed by the black tentacle, before it slowly faded back into the floor.

Through it all, Sirius didn’t even flinch, and his grin never slipped. For an auror, he seemed a bit slow on the uptake. No spell could harm a Black in the Black family home. Ancient and powerful magics would always prevent it. The only exceptions to that is if the spell was cast by a member of the family, or explicitly approved of by the lord of the manor. Naturally, Sirius did not approve of himself coming to harm in his own foyer.

Bill started laughing, pushing his words through his chuckles. “You done yet Mad-Eye? I don’t pretend to understand, but if you had been listening to me before, the blood magic in this place is bloody unreal. This kid is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, Sirius Black, and you just saw what happens when you try to harm a Black in their own wards.”

This didn’t seem to convince the old man, though little Dora let out a little “Hmmm” before lowering her wand and settling for looking mildly confused. Shacklebot looked confused, but apparently decided to err on the side of caution and kept his wand up.

“Well, Weasley,” the grizzled old auror growled out, “if you had been paying attention two weeks ago you would know beyond the shadow of a doubt that Sirius Black died. Saw him fall through the veil myself. That is a one way trip. This thing is not Sirius Black.”

Sirius suppressed a chuckle. “You aren’t wrong, but you aren’t right either. ‘Sirius Black’ did die,” he said the name with exagerated air quotes, “But I am most certainly Sirius Black.”

He spared a quick glance to Moony whose eyes seemed to narrow. He had that look he got when he was rapidly thinking, putting things together. Dora seemed to have less patience for games, and clearly not enough information to make any meaningful conclusions. She huffed and shook her head. “He sure sounds like the wanker.”

Bill seemed to have a good head on him. He stepped quickly between Moody and the snarky teen, his hands in front on him in a pacifying gesture. “Look, Moody, stop remembering what you know and take in what you are seeing.” He gestured back to Sirius. “This kid just walked out of a wall. He looks and sounds just like a younger version of exactly who he says he is. The Black family elves call him Master, something they would only do if they were certain it was the Lord Black. Finally, the house itself confirmed it is a Black. The portraits recognized him, the blood wards protected him, and he was capable of connecting Walburga’s portrait to another, something he could only do if he was the master of the house. Kings already told us that official ministry records are somehow still reading Sirius as the Lord Black, ergo, with the evidence before us, the only logical conclusion is that somehow, this boy is Sirius.”

Moody only seemed to double down on his suspicions. “That isn’t possible. Nobody comes back from the dead. That isn’t how things work.”

It was Moony that answered this time. He stepped forward a little closer to his oldest friend. “But you didn’t die, did you?”

“Bingo! And the big prize goes to Moony! Now, why don’t you fill in the rest of the class on why that is?” he smirked to his old friend.

He almost felt bad for Moony, but then again, he also had mixed feelings that the wanker never noticed he was replaced with a soulless homunculus. He felt his pity rise for the poor bloke though, as the older man’s face began to fall. It seemed he had finally realized the truth.

“The dead one was the fake…” he mumbled, his voice clearly distraught. “All these years and James was right all along…”

Sirius scoffed. “You would be surprised at how often that turned out to be the case.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about!” Moody almost yelled.

“How?” Remus croaked, moisture beginning to build in his eyes.

Sirius never could stay irritated at Moony. He was such a genuine soul. He stepped forward and embraced his distraught friend, ignoring everyone else, but still speaking loudly enough that they could all hear. “It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know. Well not entirely anyways. Reg drugged you lot. Gave you a sort of permanent confudus so you just wouldn’t notice. But really, how could you possibly believe I would ever try to use you as a murder weapon?”

Remus broke at this. He slumped completely into the embrace and a couple sobs escaped. “I am so sorry…” he gasped, while crying into Sirius’ shoulder. “I am a terrible friend. How could I have believed you would be like that? It all makes sense now.” His words were broken up by a lot of gasps, and a little muffled by Sirius’ shirt.

“Well I’m glad it makes sense to someone.” Moody grumbled.

Sirius ignored him, focusing instead on holding Moony, rubbing his back and lightly holding his head. It was an oddly tender embrace for two blokes, and for many men it may have seemed uncomfortable, but ever since he completed his animagus form, he found he was a bit more tactile than he ever thought he would be. Apparently dogs were snugglers. Remus had been noticeably less stressed since Sirius got his new found touchy-feelies, so he assumed the same held true for wolves. They never really talked about it, and usually they avoided being too cuddly in public, but it was there.

The others in the room looked a little uncomfortable, save Moody, who just looked pissed, but they seemed content to wait out the rather emotional reunion. Sirius was rather grateful to them. Remus had so few, at least in his time, that he was comfortable feeling vulnerable around. It took several minutes but eventually he calmed down enough to take a step back and wipe his eyes. Remus looked at his friend, looking slightly lost for a moment, before a touch of irritation crept onto his features.

“What the bloody hell, you wanker. This is completely unfair. James is dead, I am old, and here you are, still bloody gorgeous.” He gave Sirius one more once over, a slow dramatic one. “Disgusting.”

Sirius couldn’t help it. He let out a loud bark like laugh, slapping his old friend on the shoulder. “I’ve told you before, Moony. It’s all in the blood.” He tossed his hair dramatically. “I come from a long line of beautiful people. I mean, just look at little Dora over there.” He took note of a slight tinge in Moony’s cheeks as he brought up his young, not so young, cousin. “Clearly we Blacks are just made of finer stuff then the rest of you ugly mugs.”

The woman in question scrunched her nose as she pocketed her wand, apparently deciding Sirius was not a threat. “I’ll give you one free pass, but the name’s Tonks.”

“Sure thing, Dora.” He said breezily, deciding to ignore Moody for now. “Now, about that drink? Shall we adjourn to the parlor? I imagine it is presentable by now.”

A couple of the people in the hall gave him a strange look, which he ignored, as he flounced down the foyer to the stairs, leading the way to his favorite sitting room. The one with the secret booze stash hidden behind a painting of a great great uncle. He was pleased to see the parlor was indeed presentable. It was by no means perfect, but it was much better. The dust and grime was gone, the windows were wide open to the natural sunlight, as the curtains had been taken down for replacement. They were likely irreparable after that bad of a doxy infestation. The seating would likely also eventually need replaced, but it would serve for now, since it was at least clean. The walls had been magically cleansed as well, their old rich hues looking regal again. The portraits looked far more comfortable than they had when they were reporting to him before. Elves really were amazing.

He made his way to the picture of his Uncle Cassius who was drunkenly dozing in his frame, reaching right into the picture itself to grab a bottle of old scotch. Taking it back to the table, he plopped down in his favorite squishy armchair, which admittedly was less plush than he remembered it being, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, seven crystal glasses appeared on the table. Being a proper host, he poured two fingers for everyone, serving himself last. Finally finished, he put the bottle down, grabbing his own glass and looking up at everyone who had meandered into the room.

Most everyone looked somewhere between confused to shocked. Remus looked amused more than anything though. Sirius cocked his head, causing the werewolf to chuckle slightly.

“I had always wondered why the other Sirius would argue with that portrait so much. I guess he wasn’t allowed to partake.” Sirius joined him in a chuckle as they both took a sip. It went down very smooth, truly a marvelous scotch.

“Well, I can’t say I blame Uncle Cassius in the least. It’s far too good of liquor to waste on a soulless golem.”

This seemed to shake the old auror. “Speaking of golems, boy, why don’t you finally tell us what the blazes is happening here.” He took a seat across from Sirius, keeping a close eye on him.

Sirius shrugged slightly, before going into his prepared story. He had thought long and hard about how much to tell the Order. He and his father had argued about it for hours. Eventually, they settled on the Order knowing everything. Normally, Sirius would like to keep certain things a bit more under wraps, but considering the amount of help he was likely to need in the coming months, if not years, they decided it would be unwise not to have at least one group who knew everything as it was.

This was especially important if their suspicions were right, and Dumbledore did know about the horcruxes but hadn’t told anybody. It made far more sense to have more eyes out for them, within reason. They were unlikely to believe him about the horcruxes if they didn’t also have a solid reason why he was trapped in a painting, and being a Confessor was certainly a solid reason. While most didn’t remember much about the old ways, and details of family magics were usually kept secret, every pure blood child knew about the Blacks and their place as the final arbiters of Death. Hell, it was the main plot point of one of the stories in Tales of Beetle the Bard, and a mention in rare older editions in the story of the hallows. It was a Black, after all, who killed the first bother after he used the Death Stick for evil, the power of confession overcoming even the raw killing power of death. It was Confession that also drove the second brother to kill himself, after he was made to feel the suffering he had selfishly inflicted upon the dead.

By the time Sirius was caught up to the present, the room was dead silent. Moony looked worried, Dung looked queezy (probably a guilty conscience), Moody looked thoughtful, and the rest looked like they didn’t know what to think.

Kingsley seemed to pull himself together first. “So the stories about the Black family really are true then?”

It was MadEye who answered. “Damn straight they are. You can read the records of the times they were let loose on the world in the old archives downstairs at the Ministry. For every Confessor that has awakened, a great revolution has occurred in the magical world. They tone down the effects they have in the history books, but the old archives tell the real story. When you get promoted to Senior rank, you get access to them. It’s pretty closely guarded.”

Both of the younger aurors looked surprised at this. There were very few closed doors to law enforcement after all. Remus though, just looked even more worried.

“So, you’re telling me, both you and Harry are tied up in prophecies? Both of you?” he shook his head. “And the whole reason this shite was necessary, was because James and Lily had to die? What does this mean for Harry? I’m afraid I was never as versed in the ancient ways as you were.”

Sirius pursed his lips for a moment, pondering how to word this. “Harry will have to be brought in on this. Horcruxes are pure evil. Light and dark don’t matter, but evil does. True evil is a corruption, and due to the circumstances of Harry’s birth and the sacrifices of his parents, he is the safest champion we have.”

Surprisingly Bill Weasley picked up when Sirius trailed off. “Born of true ancient love would already give him a boost against evil, but with the willing sacrifice of those lives who loved each other so purely, he is essentially incorruptible. If You Know Who is an ancient evil, like Sirius said, then he would be completely incompatible with Harry. His magic wouldn’t work well against him, like oil and water. It’s probably why he fled after trying to control Harry in the atrium two weeks ago. It probably hurt him quite badly to even attempt such a direct mental assault.”

“Hrm!” Sirius looked up surprised, incapable of stopping the surprised grunt noise at hearing ancient wisdom coming out of a Weasley.

“Oh don’t look so surprised Black.” Weasley shot back, a slight smirk on his face. “The Weasleys may not have taken to such lengths to teach their children the old ways as the Blacks, but the Goblin Nation never forgets an enemy. I work for Gringotts, and have been given the honorable title of ‘Tolerable Wizard’. As such, I was given a copy of their enemies list. Put me on a two year long research spree, but I figured it out.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, that does give me an idea. You’re sure You Know Who is possessed by an Ancient Evil?”

Sirius squinted his eyes at the redhead, thinking he could see where this was going. His father had said the goblins were on the verge of declaring war before Harry took down the dark lord. “Yes. My brother was my prophet. At the time he wrote it, he said he wasn’t sure which evil it was, but that it was definitely one of the ancient ones.”

Bill grinned widely. “And when will you be going public with your status as a Confessor?”

“As soon as Amelia gets me a trial.”

“Great.” He rubbed his hands together, still grinning. “I’m gonna need a copy of that prophecy. With this, we could castrate their entire movement! Just imagine! To get the goblins to declare war on the Dark Lord would basically end his foothold in the Ministry and severely limit their recruitment.”

Kingsley sighed deeply, not looking nearly as excited. “Am I the only one a bit depressed that so much of this comes down to money?”

Sirius shrugged. “I was raised in this shite. Their greed can be a powerful tool if you can find the right leverage. Getting the goblins involved seems like a good call. Few can keep up financially with people like Malfoy, but the Goblins can cut that prattish dandy down to size.”

Moody seemed to be overcoming the shock of Sirius’ tale, and had begun mumbling to himself while rubbing his scarred chin, drawing the attention of the rest of the room. Finally the grizzled veteran seemed to come to a decision. “Well, I’ve decided I believe your story, Black. I apologize for attempting to disembowel you in your own home.”

Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle at the old mans attitude, as if it was the location of the disemboweling which was at fault. “I forgive you. It’s not like you didn’t have good reason to mistrust me at the time.”

“Good.” With that he clapped his hands together and made to stand up, grabbing his staff for support. “I am going to flu to Albus and get him over here. This development is big, and he will want to be involved.”

He limped out of the room, everyone else silently watching him go. It was barely a moment later that Dung made his excuses, and Kings then mentioned he would be going back to bed, leaving Sirius with Tonks, Bill, and Remus.

“So…” Sirius began, wanting to test a theory, “Remus, how long have you been shagging my cousin?”

He wasn’t at all disappointed with their responses.

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#Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #order of the phoenix #remus x tonks #mad eye moody #bill weasley #Black Family #Harry Potter Fanfiction #hp fanfic #the black family swears a lot

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