Author: Riadolores
Title: Sirius Black and the Imaginary School
E-Mail: riadolores@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Sirius Black, James Potter, Albus Dumbledore,
Fawkes, Minerva McGonagall and other things recognizable
from the Harry Potter books do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowlings.
Disclaimer 2: Anna and Geoff Black, other original characters and the premise of the story do belong to me.
Sirius Black and the Imaginary School
It was ridiculous. It really was. That was the worst part; he was being ridiculous and he knew it. Still, he couldn't help thinking he was right.
Geoff and Anna had taken him in almost a year ago. Despite his tricks they'd adopted him. They put up with his foul comments and troublemaking. When testing proved their belief in his intelligence, they sent him to the best public school in the area.
Through it all, they'd asked very little of him. Oh, Geoff always made sure he did his homework, despite assurances that it didn't matter. And Anna had decided responsibility was what he needed, so she forced it on him through chores and volunteer work. It wasn't that bad. He was even starting to like taking care of those brats down the road. It reminded him of the orphanage, a little, except better.
He'd begun to enjoy life with them and had begun to wonder if, just maybe they were the real McCoy. Two people who genuinely cared for him.
He must have been wrong. Now he would pay for the trust.
He had walked through the back door, unlocked as usual, despite his many warnings, to find some other kid standing on the rusty red stepladder in front of the sink doing the dishes.
"Anna!" he shouted, chin jutting out.
The boy dropped the glass in his hands, startled by the presence of another. It fell, sponge stuck inside. Both boys stood unmoving, staring, each believing the other was an intruder. The glass shattered, and the sponge rebounded.
"Oh shit," said one, as he watched the pansy boy on his stepstool for a tell-tale wince.
The other gave him no satisfaction. He didn't have a
chance, because Anna entered.
She surveyed the scene like war-weary general, not even bothering to reproach the boys. She merely pointed to the linen closet
He headed there silently, as the stranger gasped like a fish out of water. Valiantly he held back the expletives that might have given him momentary satisfaction. Even as he began to lose the battle, he was halted by Anna's voice.
"By the way Si, this is your cousin."
He turned faster than a ballerina pirouetting. "My cousin?" he questioned, shock animating his previously studied face and pushing curses of all sorts to the back of his mind.
Anna smiled slightly, "Yes, your cousin, James. James," she inclined her head to the other boy, "this is Sirius."
The boy, James, only just stepping down, made a brief motion with his hand that might have been the beginning of a wave.
"So you're the terror," he intoned solemnly. Aunt Anna and Uncle Geoff had always been like second parents to him and he couldn't believe they'd adopted another boy. A boy who might even be a muggle at that!
Anna restrained herself from leaping to Si's defense. After all, boys that age didn't need or want their mothers defending them or even pesky guardians, as Sirius had been know to label her and Geoff.
Sirius smirked, "I've been called worse. Can't say I've ever heard of you," he continued slyly, intimating that the other was obviously less important because he hadn't been mentioned.
James peered at Anna to confirm it, inwardly aching that they hadn't even mentioned him. He paused a moment to compose himself before retorting, "Well, I have my Hogwarts' letter. Bet you don't. Bet you can't even get in."
Sirius cleared his face, as he leaned down, dustpan in hand. "Don't care. If it's important I'll get one. Not that it could be if you're going," and then began to sweep up the mess silently.
"You should have seen his face!"
Geoff sat in bed, patiently listening to his wife. "Whose?" he questioned.
"James', when Sirius began to sweep up the glass. He couldn't believe I wasn't just magicking it together!"
"Well, no one believed we could really live without magic. I'm sure they all think we're cheating like crazy."
Anna put her hands on her hips, causing Geoff to quash a sigh. She was in lecture mode again.
"I don't know why everyone thinks life as a muggle is so hard. I mean sure you have to be careful and lots of things take more time but it isn't always harder.
Geoff addressed the empty space beside him, "Now, do you remember the gel-less Jell-O, or the dishwashing liquid in the washing machine?"
"You do? Me too. I wonder what pure-blooded witch could have been behind those mishaps. Certainly not my Anna, who says it isn't any more difficult to live as a muggle."
Geoff was so busy talking to the air that he missed Anna's approach, pillow in hand. He shouted as the pillow hit him, distracting him from his monologue and causing him to look up at his wife.
She was glaring at him, her eyes narrowed to slits as he laughed at the situation.
"I don't find that funny Mister."
"Come on Anna, it's okay, I was just teasing," he rattled on, trying to placate his wife, "You're doing extremely well, it's just that… Well, you do realize if Si doesn't get into Hogwarts that'll be another, say, eight years totally muggle, before we can try and tell him."
Anna plopped herself down on the bed, rumpling the blankets.
"I know, but Hon, we couldn't have left him there. He was going to be wasted."
"You're right, and we've talked about this, but if we'd gone to a Ministry orphanage…" he trailed off, unwilling to finish what he'd started.
Anna finished it for him, "We could have found a child we'd know about. And life would be easier. Love, I thought we agreed. Easier isn't always better. Si, he was meant for us. No matter what it takes. Remember when we told Dumbledore. He didn't even want to hear Si's name, so he would give any hints."
Geoff grinned, "Like Dumbledore would give a hint if he didn't want to. Still, I know what you mean. Anna-Banana, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have regrets. And… I have been worrying; his birthday's come and gone. What if he doesn't get into Hogwarts?"
Anna fidgeted with the skirt of her nightgown. "There's still time Geoff. Those people guessed at his age. Si could be nine or ten still. And," she paused, "We love him. He's ours. It doesn't matter if he's magical. I… I almost wish," she stopped. "It doesn't matter, Geoff. Like the song- 'Que sera sera.'"
"Hmm, for a Hufflepuff you're pretty smart."
She leaned toward him and whispered, "For a Ravenclaw you're pretty down to Earth."
He pulled her closer, "Funny you never objected before."
"Who says I mind?" she questioned, as she reached for the light. The conversation ended as it all faded to
black.
Sirius put the letter where it belonged, in the trashcan. At first he'd wondered about the letters and almost believed in the sheer possibility of it all. He thought about showing Geoff and Anna but he wasn't sure they'd believe him. If they though he was crazy they'd send him back, like the malfunctioning stove they'd returned.
Now he was glad he'd been cautious. This 'Hogwarts' was obviously a trick to scout him out, see if he would cave. Sirius was glad James was such a pansy- he obviously had the supplies, like that heavenly parchment paper, without the brains. He'd seen better pulled with fewer resources, and James had given the game away by mentioning the so-called school. Why he was throwing bad money after the good, Sirius hadn't a clue.
What Sirius did know was if he didn't respond, he'd lose face, and now he had both the brains and money to pull a quality scam. He lay back in bed, luxuriating in his feather pillow, plotting revenge until he drifted off.
Albus Dumbledore watched in silence as the pen ran across the paper, leaving a trail of glistening ink in its wake. His first year as Headmaster was no beginning auspiciously. One werewolf and baggage, emotional or otherwise, an overzealous poltergeist, determined not to let his station go to his head and interrupting his sleep, two hysterical muggleborns and now this. He'd never heard of such a thing from Dippet.
Oh, the old goat had mention in 1496 the pen had been stolen by purists who attempted to hex it in order to prevent muggles from attending Hogwarts. It hadn't written any names in 1830 when a headmaster who shall remain nameless forgot to refill the ink, which had led to a late start to the school year. But this! Never.
To be fair, Dippet had mentioned it sometimes took the pen several tries to get the address right. But fifty-seven times- it was unheard of! And it was giving Dumbledore a headache, which was not the easiest thing to do.
He would give the pen one more chance before he stepped in and took over the situation. Dumbledore grasped the letter before it could make its way down to the Owlery and copied the address. The area was predominately muggle, perhaps this Black child's parents did not approve.
He'd have to remember to add a few charms to prevent this from happening. A multiplier charm might keep the letters from being ignored. It would save the pen trouble too.
As he tested the logistics of the plan, Dumbledore snuck his hand into the glass jar on the side of his desk. He had his plans, and knew he could carry them through. Now was a chance to relax and enjoy the candy the Jooriabi boy had sent as thanks for his tutoring.
He slipped it in his mouth, savoring the candy, delighting in the texture of the hard candy. He'd have to find where he could buy a stash. They were sure to be a hit.
He hadn't made his way through the sugary coating yet, and wondered what the yellow might signify. His face puckered, his question answered. He'd never had a candy that sour. Bertie Bott's tended to disgusting not sour.
A precise knock distracted some of his attention from the delectable if sour sweet to beckon it open, only to find Minerva holding what appeared to be a molting phoenix.
"Fawkes!" Dumbledore attempted to exclaim around the candy, although it came out sounding quite different. He hadn't been able to find the stubborn bird anywhere as he'd switched offices and was worried the bird had chosen a new human.
That obviously was not true. Minerva carried the bird by the feet as if it were something the cat had dragged in. Dumbledore supposed the bird must have hidden as he'd gone into molt, and Minerva had found him as she was setting up her things.
She stood in front of his desk, glaring at him. "Albus, I don't know what this-this thing is or why on earth you left it in my office but I want you to take care of it."
Minerva in a temper was not to be interrupted. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. Of course she wouldn't know what it was; he'd never gotten a chance to introduce the two. But if she knew what she was shaking around like a worn out feather duster...
A small hic escaped his control and she tensed to her full height. Albus suspected that if she had been in cat form she would have hissed at him, and shown her claws.
"Well, if you think it's funny, I shan't trouble you any longer," she proclaimed, lasping into a thick brogue. "Here, you can keep your chicken."
She threw the dead looking bird on Albus' desk only to see it implode, replaced by a shimmering creature. She gasped quite involuntarily, losing her war with her self control.
As the bird turned its back, Dumbledore indulged in a chuckle. "I don't believe you've met Fawkes, my," he paused to look apprehensively at the bird, "I mean, a Phoenix."
Minerva collapsed into a chair that a careful observer would swear hadn't been there a few seconds before.
"My apologies Albus," she said wearily.
"Nonsense, my dear. It was rather funny. I'm afraid we have a few more pressing matters to deal with like a certain Mr. Sirius Black."
Sirius peered out the window. School had ended, leaving him free to plan. He needed to. There were a million things he could do to James, if only he could think of them.
Every time he started plotting on how to get the itching powder in his shorts or what he could make Anna and Geoff believe, he lost track of his clever plans and began drifting. Sirius imagined himself a wizard, and all the things he would do.
He could fight evil creatures like dragons, Bigfoot and aliens invaders. He could vanquish villainous vampires with garlic and stakes and his trusty- staff? No, that wasn't right. His trusty something.
Maybe he could find lost treasure instead. Traveling the world, skirting danger, using his powers to complete his quest. The treasure could even be magical. Sirius would find the spring of eternal youth or a magic sword, like Excalibur.
Or he could be a hero and save the world. He would find a cure for a terrible plague. He could stop an asteroid from hitting the Earth.
Sirius slumped down against his desk and the list of things to do to James, which hadn't progressed far at all.
It wasn't fair to make a boy wish something with all his heart like that. He couldn't let James get away with it. He needed revenge, not just to save face but also as payment for his marvelous impossible dreams.
But Sirius couldn't bring himself to lift the pen. He kept looking vacantly out the window, pretending he was off to the moon which wizards had already colonized. Sirius didn't notice a letter falling out of the mailbox when the mailman opened it, or the wind stealing it. He kept on dreaming.
Albus watched as the pen stirred itself to motion again. The founders had been depressingly practical, he mused. No wasted effort from them. Pens to find students, hats to sort them. If they had survived long enough, they would have enchanted a device to teach the students, making themselves obsolete.
Dumbledore had come to believe the castle itself must have predated the Founders. They seemed such a dour quartet at times; much too serious and self involved to have come up with the whimsical, spooky, majestic castle. Oh, they were clever and brave, loyal and cunning, but he had such a hard time imagining Rowena telling a joke, or Godric laughing at one, although history and veneration screening them might be the cause of that. Underneath they might be bright as the inhabitants of the Sistine Chapel's ceiling post renovation.
The pen fell and Dumbledore grabber the letter. This time it would be delivered in person.
It was a long walk to Hogsmeade, from where he could apparate safely, though it did give him time to consider the founders and the possibility of finding primary sources related to them.
After tripping for the third time, due to either his robes or the roots or a combination of both, he began to consider the merits of delegating the responsibility of such matters in the future.
Sirius picked up his head, annoyed with himself. If he couldn't concentrate on pranking, at least he could work on his summer assignments. His new English teacher had, among other things, asked them to write a story centered on something they'd actually seen out their bedroom window.
Sirius gazed about, hoping for a subject for his story to appear. Mopsy, the pedigreed poodle from next door was getting awfully familiar with a mutt that hung around the neighborhood. Mrs. Edward Thorton-Wilder the Third would not be happy at all if Mopsy gave birth to mongrels. He smiled. Last week he'd been playing with Mops, tossing a ball around and stuff when Mrs. My-Dog's-Genealogy-Is-Longer-Than-Yours found them. She'd blistered his ears, all because Mops got a little dirty before some dog show. It would serve her right if there were puppies. Not only would it bring her down a notch, there was a chance Sirius might get permission to have one.
First he needed a topic, and somehow he doubted his teacher would be interested in Mopsy's private life. He looked to the left, where all he found were houses and trees. The trees were in a row, perfectly orderly and neat looking, except for the fact that every tree was a different type. Maples, oaks, elms, dogwoods and more were all mixed together.
After fifteen minutes of staring at the trees, without feeling the slightest hint of inspiration, Sirius was torn between trying to find an idea later or giving into temptation and writing about the dogs, who had the garden hose turned on them by Mrs. Thorton-Wilder.
It would make a really interesting story from three points of view; Mopsy's, the mutt's and Mrs. Thorton-Wilder's. He could always write it later, after he had a more acceptable story and then choose which one to turn in based on the teacher.
Now all he had to do was find an acceptable topic in case his teacher was an old stick in the mud. He glared out the window, willing for something, anything to happen. Whether it was as mundane as a tree falling down or as unlikely as the Once and Future King riding through his yard he no longer cared.
Ding.
Anna pushed against her forehead. Why did everything go wrong on the same day? Couldn't it wait for some other day? First the oven wouldn't work, then Sirius had some how managed to turn James' teeth black and now just as she'd managed to fix the stove, there was someone at the door.
"Geoff!" she shouted as the bell rang more insistently.
"He can't hear you. He's in the garage doing that work I can't see." He paused and continued hopefully, "If you want I can get him Anna."
"No, it's okay," she replied resignedly.
They'd barely been able to keep Sirius out of there as it was. She and Geoff were working with potions, so there was no wand waving to violate the Ministry's decree against working magic with known muggles present. Still, if Sirius saw the ingredients and such, they'd have a hard time explaining. After all, what ten year old wouldn't be curious as to the use of bat wings and toad eyes?
"Damn, damn, damn." She took off her apron and fluffed her hair back before turning to the oven.
"Now don't burn anything," she told it mockingly, as she rushed to the door.
As usual, she forgot to check the muggle peephole before opening the door.
A familiar voice began, "Hello, Mrs. Black-"
Only to be interrupted by her gleeful shout of "Professor Dumbledore! What a surprise."
The room looked like any other sitting room. It had a love seat, a wing-backed chair, several end tables and the proper amount of knickknacks. Too few and one looked poor, too many and one looked nouveau riche, neither impression the one Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey Reid-Potter wished to give. The impression was perfect.
Well, almost perfect at least. The only thing that kept it from appearing to be an ordinary sitting room was the man with the long white beard and outrageous costume, balancing a saucer on his lap as he talked to Mrs. Reid-Potter.
"So, Professor, let me get this straight. Sirius has been receiving his letters, but he's kept them a secret?"
Albus swallowed a bit of his biscuit and cleared his throat. "Yes, Anna, at least yes to the first part. I can't believe that so many letters could have gone astray. Especially knowing the last five were delivered with return receipt. What Sirius has been doing with those letters is my only question. Before I thought he might not believe- there have been cases like this with muggle borns before but now-"
"The same holds true," said a pale Anna.
"My dear?" Dumbledore looked at her questioningly as he raised his cup of tea.
"You know of course that Geoff- I can't have children. We went to specialists, both Magical and Muggle at Geoff's insistence. The best explanation and the simplest is an overexposure to either magic or radiation, depending on who you talk to, in the womb left me sterile."
She smiled weakly as if to say, I've learned to cope, before continuing. "Well, Geoff refused to leave me, despite the lack of a cure, so we turned to adoption.
"In the magical world, the waiting list would have been at least three years, even if we were looking at older children. But after a short while, out lawyer found us another option. We could adopt a muggle child.
"We talked it over and decided the child would be ours. That was the important thing- the child- not its talents or abilities. And so we have our Sirius."
"I'm afraid I still don't understand why Sirius doesn't know about our world."
"It's the law. No magical can injudiciously reveal magic to a Muggle. Under current laws and by laws, some dating back hundreds of years, you can reveal magic to a spouse, or a parent. There are no exceptions for adoption. I don't think they ever thought of a magical adopting a muggle. And heaven knows Fudge would never listen to sense if he was smacked across the head with it."
Albus managed to keep himself from smiling at the disrespect to his colleague. Still, Anna caught the look in his eye and remembered it from inappropriately easy punishments and classes dismissed far too early, after which the door had been locked and a strong silencing spell had been placed. Dumbledore shared her opinion of Fudge she realized. That could be useful.
"Anyway, Geoff and I were lucky, because our work is largely theoretical, so we can do most of it in the garage, and save the practical work for the days we have the lab. Gen-Smith doesn't mind- we actually do more work this way.
"We haven't told Sirius anything about magic. The other day James let something about Hogwarts slip, but Si seemed to think it was a joke. That's why he turned-"
"He turned?" Albus asked, leaning forward, his draping sleeves just missing his teacup.
"He played a joke on James today and his only excuse was something about payback. He must have thought James was playing a joke on him."
Albus stroked the tip of his beard. "Hmm. That could very well be why he hasn't told you or responded. How should you like to break it to him that Hogwarts does exist?"
Anna grinned at him. "Are you available for dinner tonight?"
"So let me get this straight," he said, staring at each of his companions in turn. "There is a school named Hogwarts that teaches magic.
"You," he proclaimed pointing to Albus, "are the headmaster."
Albus nodded in an uncharacteristically silent assent.
Sirius had already turned back to Anna and Geoff. Anna twisted the tablecloth, waiting for him to speak. Before, she hadn't let herself consider the possibility that Sirius would be angry at them, but now it was all she could think of.
"You two went there and didn't tell me about it."
His voice was accusing. "Now Si-" Geoff started as Anna opened and closed her mouth fruitlessly.
Sirius jumped up and interrupted, "That's abso-bloody-lutely brilliant! I'm going to check out the magic stuff!"
With that a Sirius-like flash disappeared.
"Well," chuckled Dumbledore, "I don't suppose anyone expected that reaction."
A head poked back into the room. "Don't tell James I thought it was a prank okay?" Question unanswered, he ran to find the school books and such things that Geoff had told him were in the garage.
Sirius wasn't sure why Anna and Geoff had kept it a secret but he was sure they'd explain it eventually. Besides, why waste time when he could be planning mischief with magic.
Disclaimer 3: The idea of Dumbledore locking the door to his study comes from Anne Black's Dark Jewel trilogy.
Author's Notes: Well, its been awhile since I've posted anything and I hope it was worth your wait. If you want to check out some exclusive poetry and ficlets by yours truly, go to this site. And please review, here and there.
Thanks,
Dolores
Title: Sirius Black and the Imaginary School
E-Mail: riadolores@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Sirius Black, James Potter, Albus Dumbledore,
Fawkes, Minerva McGonagall and other things recognizable
from the Harry Potter books do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowlings.
Disclaimer 2: Anna and Geoff Black, other original characters and the premise of the story do belong to me.
Sirius Black and the Imaginary School
It was ridiculous. It really was. That was the worst part; he was being ridiculous and he knew it. Still, he couldn't help thinking he was right.
Geoff and Anna had taken him in almost a year ago. Despite his tricks they'd adopted him. They put up with his foul comments and troublemaking. When testing proved their belief in his intelligence, they sent him to the best public school in the area.
Through it all, they'd asked very little of him. Oh, Geoff always made sure he did his homework, despite assurances that it didn't matter. And Anna had decided responsibility was what he needed, so she forced it on him through chores and volunteer work. It wasn't that bad. He was even starting to like taking care of those brats down the road. It reminded him of the orphanage, a little, except better.
He'd begun to enjoy life with them and had begun to wonder if, just maybe they were the real McCoy. Two people who genuinely cared for him.
He must have been wrong. Now he would pay for the trust.
He had walked through the back door, unlocked as usual, despite his many warnings, to find some other kid standing on the rusty red stepladder in front of the sink doing the dishes.
"Anna!" he shouted, chin jutting out.
The boy dropped the glass in his hands, startled by the presence of another. It fell, sponge stuck inside. Both boys stood unmoving, staring, each believing the other was an intruder. The glass shattered, and the sponge rebounded.
"Oh shit," said one, as he watched the pansy boy on his stepstool for a tell-tale wince.
The other gave him no satisfaction. He didn't have a
chance, because Anna entered.
She surveyed the scene like war-weary general, not even bothering to reproach the boys. She merely pointed to the linen closet
He headed there silently, as the stranger gasped like a fish out of water. Valiantly he held back the expletives that might have given him momentary satisfaction. Even as he began to lose the battle, he was halted by Anna's voice.
"By the way Si, this is your cousin."
He turned faster than a ballerina pirouetting. "My cousin?" he questioned, shock animating his previously studied face and pushing curses of all sorts to the back of his mind.
Anna smiled slightly, "Yes, your cousin, James. James," she inclined her head to the other boy, "this is Sirius."
The boy, James, only just stepping down, made a brief motion with his hand that might have been the beginning of a wave.
"So you're the terror," he intoned solemnly. Aunt Anna and Uncle Geoff had always been like second parents to him and he couldn't believe they'd adopted another boy. A boy who might even be a muggle at that!
Anna restrained herself from leaping to Si's defense. After all, boys that age didn't need or want their mothers defending them or even pesky guardians, as Sirius had been know to label her and Geoff.
Sirius smirked, "I've been called worse. Can't say I've ever heard of you," he continued slyly, intimating that the other was obviously less important because he hadn't been mentioned.
James peered at Anna to confirm it, inwardly aching that they hadn't even mentioned him. He paused a moment to compose himself before retorting, "Well, I have my Hogwarts' letter. Bet you don't. Bet you can't even get in."
Sirius cleared his face, as he leaned down, dustpan in hand. "Don't care. If it's important I'll get one. Not that it could be if you're going," and then began to sweep up the mess silently.
"You should have seen his face!"
Geoff sat in bed, patiently listening to his wife. "Whose?" he questioned.
"James', when Sirius began to sweep up the glass. He couldn't believe I wasn't just magicking it together!"
"Well, no one believed we could really live without magic. I'm sure they all think we're cheating like crazy."
Anna put her hands on her hips, causing Geoff to quash a sigh. She was in lecture mode again.
"I don't know why everyone thinks life as a muggle is so hard. I mean sure you have to be careful and lots of things take more time but it isn't always harder.
Geoff addressed the empty space beside him, "Now, do you remember the gel-less Jell-O, or the dishwashing liquid in the washing machine?"
"You do? Me too. I wonder what pure-blooded witch could have been behind those mishaps. Certainly not my Anna, who says it isn't any more difficult to live as a muggle."
Geoff was so busy talking to the air that he missed Anna's approach, pillow in hand. He shouted as the pillow hit him, distracting him from his monologue and causing him to look up at his wife.
She was glaring at him, her eyes narrowed to slits as he laughed at the situation.
"I don't find that funny Mister."
"Come on Anna, it's okay, I was just teasing," he rattled on, trying to placate his wife, "You're doing extremely well, it's just that… Well, you do realize if Si doesn't get into Hogwarts that'll be another, say, eight years totally muggle, before we can try and tell him."
Anna plopped herself down on the bed, rumpling the blankets.
"I know, but Hon, we couldn't have left him there. He was going to be wasted."
"You're right, and we've talked about this, but if we'd gone to a Ministry orphanage…" he trailed off, unwilling to finish what he'd started.
Anna finished it for him, "We could have found a child we'd know about. And life would be easier. Love, I thought we agreed. Easier isn't always better. Si, he was meant for us. No matter what it takes. Remember when we told Dumbledore. He didn't even want to hear Si's name, so he would give any hints."
Geoff grinned, "Like Dumbledore would give a hint if he didn't want to. Still, I know what you mean. Anna-Banana, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have regrets. And… I have been worrying; his birthday's come and gone. What if he doesn't get into Hogwarts?"
Anna fidgeted with the skirt of her nightgown. "There's still time Geoff. Those people guessed at his age. Si could be nine or ten still. And," she paused, "We love him. He's ours. It doesn't matter if he's magical. I… I almost wish," she stopped. "It doesn't matter, Geoff. Like the song- 'Que sera sera.'"
"Hmm, for a Hufflepuff you're pretty smart."
She leaned toward him and whispered, "For a Ravenclaw you're pretty down to Earth."
He pulled her closer, "Funny you never objected before."
"Who says I mind?" she questioned, as she reached for the light. The conversation ended as it all faded to
black.
Sirius put the letter where it belonged, in the trashcan. At first he'd wondered about the letters and almost believed in the sheer possibility of it all. He thought about showing Geoff and Anna but he wasn't sure they'd believe him. If they though he was crazy they'd send him back, like the malfunctioning stove they'd returned.
Now he was glad he'd been cautious. This 'Hogwarts' was obviously a trick to scout him out, see if he would cave. Sirius was glad James was such a pansy- he obviously had the supplies, like that heavenly parchment paper, without the brains. He'd seen better pulled with fewer resources, and James had given the game away by mentioning the so-called school. Why he was throwing bad money after the good, Sirius hadn't a clue.
What Sirius did know was if he didn't respond, he'd lose face, and now he had both the brains and money to pull a quality scam. He lay back in bed, luxuriating in his feather pillow, plotting revenge until he drifted off.
Albus Dumbledore watched in silence as the pen ran across the paper, leaving a trail of glistening ink in its wake. His first year as Headmaster was no beginning auspiciously. One werewolf and baggage, emotional or otherwise, an overzealous poltergeist, determined not to let his station go to his head and interrupting his sleep, two hysterical muggleborns and now this. He'd never heard of such a thing from Dippet.
Oh, the old goat had mention in 1496 the pen had been stolen by purists who attempted to hex it in order to prevent muggles from attending Hogwarts. It hadn't written any names in 1830 when a headmaster who shall remain nameless forgot to refill the ink, which had led to a late start to the school year. But this! Never.
To be fair, Dippet had mentioned it sometimes took the pen several tries to get the address right. But fifty-seven times- it was unheard of! And it was giving Dumbledore a headache, which was not the easiest thing to do.
He would give the pen one more chance before he stepped in and took over the situation. Dumbledore grasped the letter before it could make its way down to the Owlery and copied the address. The area was predominately muggle, perhaps this Black child's parents did not approve.
He'd have to remember to add a few charms to prevent this from happening. A multiplier charm might keep the letters from being ignored. It would save the pen trouble too.
As he tested the logistics of the plan, Dumbledore snuck his hand into the glass jar on the side of his desk. He had his plans, and knew he could carry them through. Now was a chance to relax and enjoy the candy the Jooriabi boy had sent as thanks for his tutoring.
He slipped it in his mouth, savoring the candy, delighting in the texture of the hard candy. He'd have to find where he could buy a stash. They were sure to be a hit.
He hadn't made his way through the sugary coating yet, and wondered what the yellow might signify. His face puckered, his question answered. He'd never had a candy that sour. Bertie Bott's tended to disgusting not sour.
A precise knock distracted some of his attention from the delectable if sour sweet to beckon it open, only to find Minerva holding what appeared to be a molting phoenix.
"Fawkes!" Dumbledore attempted to exclaim around the candy, although it came out sounding quite different. He hadn't been able to find the stubborn bird anywhere as he'd switched offices and was worried the bird had chosen a new human.
That obviously was not true. Minerva carried the bird by the feet as if it were something the cat had dragged in. Dumbledore supposed the bird must have hidden as he'd gone into molt, and Minerva had found him as she was setting up her things.
She stood in front of his desk, glaring at him. "Albus, I don't know what this-this thing is or why on earth you left it in my office but I want you to take care of it."
Minerva in a temper was not to be interrupted. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. Of course she wouldn't know what it was; he'd never gotten a chance to introduce the two. But if she knew what she was shaking around like a worn out feather duster...
A small hic escaped his control and she tensed to her full height. Albus suspected that if she had been in cat form she would have hissed at him, and shown her claws.
"Well, if you think it's funny, I shan't trouble you any longer," she proclaimed, lasping into a thick brogue. "Here, you can keep your chicken."
She threw the dead looking bird on Albus' desk only to see it implode, replaced by a shimmering creature. She gasped quite involuntarily, losing her war with her self control.
As the bird turned its back, Dumbledore indulged in a chuckle. "I don't believe you've met Fawkes, my," he paused to look apprehensively at the bird, "I mean, a Phoenix."
Minerva collapsed into a chair that a careful observer would swear hadn't been there a few seconds before.
"My apologies Albus," she said wearily.
"Nonsense, my dear. It was rather funny. I'm afraid we have a few more pressing matters to deal with like a certain Mr. Sirius Black."
Sirius peered out the window. School had ended, leaving him free to plan. He needed to. There were a million things he could do to James, if only he could think of them.
Every time he started plotting on how to get the itching powder in his shorts or what he could make Anna and Geoff believe, he lost track of his clever plans and began drifting. Sirius imagined himself a wizard, and all the things he would do.
He could fight evil creatures like dragons, Bigfoot and aliens invaders. He could vanquish villainous vampires with garlic and stakes and his trusty- staff? No, that wasn't right. His trusty something.
Maybe he could find lost treasure instead. Traveling the world, skirting danger, using his powers to complete his quest. The treasure could even be magical. Sirius would find the spring of eternal youth or a magic sword, like Excalibur.
Or he could be a hero and save the world. He would find a cure for a terrible plague. He could stop an asteroid from hitting the Earth.
Sirius slumped down against his desk and the list of things to do to James, which hadn't progressed far at all.
It wasn't fair to make a boy wish something with all his heart like that. He couldn't let James get away with it. He needed revenge, not just to save face but also as payment for his marvelous impossible dreams.
But Sirius couldn't bring himself to lift the pen. He kept looking vacantly out the window, pretending he was off to the moon which wizards had already colonized. Sirius didn't notice a letter falling out of the mailbox when the mailman opened it, or the wind stealing it. He kept on dreaming.
Albus watched as the pen stirred itself to motion again. The founders had been depressingly practical, he mused. No wasted effort from them. Pens to find students, hats to sort them. If they had survived long enough, they would have enchanted a device to teach the students, making themselves obsolete.
Dumbledore had come to believe the castle itself must have predated the Founders. They seemed such a dour quartet at times; much too serious and self involved to have come up with the whimsical, spooky, majestic castle. Oh, they were clever and brave, loyal and cunning, but he had such a hard time imagining Rowena telling a joke, or Godric laughing at one, although history and veneration screening them might be the cause of that. Underneath they might be bright as the inhabitants of the Sistine Chapel's ceiling post renovation.
The pen fell and Dumbledore grabber the letter. This time it would be delivered in person.
It was a long walk to Hogsmeade, from where he could apparate safely, though it did give him time to consider the founders and the possibility of finding primary sources related to them.
After tripping for the third time, due to either his robes or the roots or a combination of both, he began to consider the merits of delegating the responsibility of such matters in the future.
Sirius picked up his head, annoyed with himself. If he couldn't concentrate on pranking, at least he could work on his summer assignments. His new English teacher had, among other things, asked them to write a story centered on something they'd actually seen out their bedroom window.
Sirius gazed about, hoping for a subject for his story to appear. Mopsy, the pedigreed poodle from next door was getting awfully familiar with a mutt that hung around the neighborhood. Mrs. Edward Thorton-Wilder the Third would not be happy at all if Mopsy gave birth to mongrels. He smiled. Last week he'd been playing with Mops, tossing a ball around and stuff when Mrs. My-Dog's-Genealogy-Is-Longer-Than-Yours found them. She'd blistered his ears, all because Mops got a little dirty before some dog show. It would serve her right if there were puppies. Not only would it bring her down a notch, there was a chance Sirius might get permission to have one.
First he needed a topic, and somehow he doubted his teacher would be interested in Mopsy's private life. He looked to the left, where all he found were houses and trees. The trees were in a row, perfectly orderly and neat looking, except for the fact that every tree was a different type. Maples, oaks, elms, dogwoods and more were all mixed together.
After fifteen minutes of staring at the trees, without feeling the slightest hint of inspiration, Sirius was torn between trying to find an idea later or giving into temptation and writing about the dogs, who had the garden hose turned on them by Mrs. Thorton-Wilder.
It would make a really interesting story from three points of view; Mopsy's, the mutt's and Mrs. Thorton-Wilder's. He could always write it later, after he had a more acceptable story and then choose which one to turn in based on the teacher.
Now all he had to do was find an acceptable topic in case his teacher was an old stick in the mud. He glared out the window, willing for something, anything to happen. Whether it was as mundane as a tree falling down or as unlikely as the Once and Future King riding through his yard he no longer cared.
Ding.
Anna pushed against her forehead. Why did everything go wrong on the same day? Couldn't it wait for some other day? First the oven wouldn't work, then Sirius had some how managed to turn James' teeth black and now just as she'd managed to fix the stove, there was someone at the door.
"Geoff!" she shouted as the bell rang more insistently.
"He can't hear you. He's in the garage doing that work I can't see." He paused and continued hopefully, "If you want I can get him Anna."
"No, it's okay," she replied resignedly.
They'd barely been able to keep Sirius out of there as it was. She and Geoff were working with potions, so there was no wand waving to violate the Ministry's decree against working magic with known muggles present. Still, if Sirius saw the ingredients and such, they'd have a hard time explaining. After all, what ten year old wouldn't be curious as to the use of bat wings and toad eyes?
"Damn, damn, damn." She took off her apron and fluffed her hair back before turning to the oven.
"Now don't burn anything," she told it mockingly, as she rushed to the door.
As usual, she forgot to check the muggle peephole before opening the door.
A familiar voice began, "Hello, Mrs. Black-"
Only to be interrupted by her gleeful shout of "Professor Dumbledore! What a surprise."
The room looked like any other sitting room. It had a love seat, a wing-backed chair, several end tables and the proper amount of knickknacks. Too few and one looked poor, too many and one looked nouveau riche, neither impression the one Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey Reid-Potter wished to give. The impression was perfect.
Well, almost perfect at least. The only thing that kept it from appearing to be an ordinary sitting room was the man with the long white beard and outrageous costume, balancing a saucer on his lap as he talked to Mrs. Reid-Potter.
"So, Professor, let me get this straight. Sirius has been receiving his letters, but he's kept them a secret?"
Albus swallowed a bit of his biscuit and cleared his throat. "Yes, Anna, at least yes to the first part. I can't believe that so many letters could have gone astray. Especially knowing the last five were delivered with return receipt. What Sirius has been doing with those letters is my only question. Before I thought he might not believe- there have been cases like this with muggle borns before but now-"
"The same holds true," said a pale Anna.
"My dear?" Dumbledore looked at her questioningly as he raised his cup of tea.
"You know of course that Geoff- I can't have children. We went to specialists, both Magical and Muggle at Geoff's insistence. The best explanation and the simplest is an overexposure to either magic or radiation, depending on who you talk to, in the womb left me sterile."
She smiled weakly as if to say, I've learned to cope, before continuing. "Well, Geoff refused to leave me, despite the lack of a cure, so we turned to adoption.
"In the magical world, the waiting list would have been at least three years, even if we were looking at older children. But after a short while, out lawyer found us another option. We could adopt a muggle child.
"We talked it over and decided the child would be ours. That was the important thing- the child- not its talents or abilities. And so we have our Sirius."
"I'm afraid I still don't understand why Sirius doesn't know about our world."
"It's the law. No magical can injudiciously reveal magic to a Muggle. Under current laws and by laws, some dating back hundreds of years, you can reveal magic to a spouse, or a parent. There are no exceptions for adoption. I don't think they ever thought of a magical adopting a muggle. And heaven knows Fudge would never listen to sense if he was smacked across the head with it."
Albus managed to keep himself from smiling at the disrespect to his colleague. Still, Anna caught the look in his eye and remembered it from inappropriately easy punishments and classes dismissed far too early, after which the door had been locked and a strong silencing spell had been placed. Dumbledore shared her opinion of Fudge she realized. That could be useful.
"Anyway, Geoff and I were lucky, because our work is largely theoretical, so we can do most of it in the garage, and save the practical work for the days we have the lab. Gen-Smith doesn't mind- we actually do more work this way.
"We haven't told Sirius anything about magic. The other day James let something about Hogwarts slip, but Si seemed to think it was a joke. That's why he turned-"
"He turned?" Albus asked, leaning forward, his draping sleeves just missing his teacup.
"He played a joke on James today and his only excuse was something about payback. He must have thought James was playing a joke on him."
Albus stroked the tip of his beard. "Hmm. That could very well be why he hasn't told you or responded. How should you like to break it to him that Hogwarts does exist?"
Anna grinned at him. "Are you available for dinner tonight?"
"So let me get this straight," he said, staring at each of his companions in turn. "There is a school named Hogwarts that teaches magic.
"You," he proclaimed pointing to Albus, "are the headmaster."
Albus nodded in an uncharacteristically silent assent.
Sirius had already turned back to Anna and Geoff. Anna twisted the tablecloth, waiting for him to speak. Before, she hadn't let herself consider the possibility that Sirius would be angry at them, but now it was all she could think of.
"You two went there and didn't tell me about it."
His voice was accusing. "Now Si-" Geoff started as Anna opened and closed her mouth fruitlessly.
Sirius jumped up and interrupted, "That's abso-bloody-lutely brilliant! I'm going to check out the magic stuff!"
With that a Sirius-like flash disappeared.
"Well," chuckled Dumbledore, "I don't suppose anyone expected that reaction."
A head poked back into the room. "Don't tell James I thought it was a prank okay?" Question unanswered, he ran to find the school books and such things that Geoff had told him were in the garage.
Sirius wasn't sure why Anna and Geoff had kept it a secret but he was sure they'd explain it eventually. Besides, why waste time when he could be planning mischief with magic.
Disclaimer 3: The idea of Dumbledore locking the door to his study comes from Anne Black's Dark Jewel trilogy.
Author's Notes: Well, its been awhile since I've posted anything and I hope it was worth your wait. If you want to check out some exclusive poetry and ficlets by yours truly, go to this site. And please review, here and there.
Thanks,
Dolores