"Speech"

'Thought

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, The Dresden Files, Or any Marvel Characters used in this Fanfic.

Sirius Orion Black resisted the urge to sigh in irritation as the door to his study slipped open without so much as a knock. His coal colored eyes snapped open as he sat up straight in the high backed chair that seemed more fit for a throne room than an office. In truth he despised the damn thing almost as much as he hated the entire house. It, and the accompanying desk, were a symbol of everything he grew up resenting. It was old, obstinate, and lacking in any real style. Made sometime in the seventeen hundreds it went against the grain of everything he had come to stand for as a man. And yet he could not bring himself to part with it considering it's place in his families long history. The irony of the situation often made him shake his head.

Standing across the expanse of his desk with hands on her hips stood what most would considering a young woman despite her age of only fourteen. She was what most would call rather pretty. A slender and youthful looking blonde with flaring hips and a frame that had already begun to fill out. Her small mouth with bright pink lips and delicate looking nose shared the expanse of her face with two slightly canted bright blue eyes. Her long hair, usually resembling the smooth flowing current of a river, was tied in a tightly wrapped pony tail that fell to the small of her back.

She was taller then most her age and yet didn't seem to have the gawky or awkward manner that many teens did. Instead the girl stood with the confidence befitting someone of her blood stature. One of the few things Sirius could stand about the steadfast pureblood customs were the way they seemed to inspire courage and confidence in their youth. It was something, perhaps the only thing, he had benefitted from growing up.

As a result of such lessons, courtesy of the one cousin he could stand to be in a room with, she shined like a rare jewel no matter where she happened to be. This was the type of young woman that many wives in high society talked about over lunch or young man spoke about in private. The type that in his younger and wilder years he would have been watching from a distance for her to grow and ripen before reaching out at the right time like plucking an apple from a tree. Now she was his most precious treasure and he would do whatever he could to keep his one and only daughter out of harm's way.

Sirius watched as she cocked her hips to the left before jerking her head to the door behind her.

"The old man is here." She said with general disinterest. For the most part she was the soft spoken sort who rarely talked unless spoken directly too, another positive in the pureblood circles. But there was a quality to her voice that showed up only when she raised it high enough. A rich throaty tone that slipped in to the ear as easily as water fell to the forces of gravity. He knew that soon enough her laughter would stop conversations cold and draw wandering eyes.

A frown slipped in to place at just the thought. This was what he deserved for playing with the hearts of young girls during his school years.

He briefly considered chiding her on the proper word choice and showing respect before dismissing the fact almost as quickly as it had come. Honestly he didn't give two shits about how she talked about his unwanted guest. When once he would have been affronted at the use of such casual disrespect for his old school headmaster he had found that over the last few years he had developed the same kind of disregard for the man that she was now casually showing.

With a sigh that gave only the slightest bit of insight on to how tired he really was the head of the Black family stood up from his desk and polished the rest of his scotch off. "Of course I don't have to guess more then once. He's always here about the same thing."

"Ah yes." Came the lazy drawl that was more of a learned behavior then something natural. It seemed to be all the rage in the pureblood circles. "He's after your money."

Sirius snorted as he pulled on the sleeves of his shirt and stepped from around his desk. "Your money too. Mostly yours considering I'd never let them get anywhere near the family vault." He stopped beside her and glanced sideways before grinning lazily. "After all, your trust fund has more then enough to give."

Striding from the room Sirius let his grin spread in to a full blown smile as her eyes went wide with surprise and indignation. It was a simple jest of course. He wouldn't be giving anything to the old man period. But he found that every once in a while a good joke was worth seeing his usually calm and collected daughter become unbound.

With that little pick-me up Sirius stepped through the hallways and down the stairs until he reached the main drawing area of the old and dark house. Passing the large curtain covered wall where his mother's hideous picture hanged in silence (For now) the usually lively man schooled his features in to a mask of stone as he glanced about for his guest.

As expected the 'old man' in question had taken the time to make himself comfortable. Albus Dumbledore was a legendary figure in the world whose name usually inspired an overwhelming sense of awe when ever it was brought up. His story was that of a war hero and magical savant who had, instead of trying to forward his own goals, used his talents to shape the lives of the young. His eccentric attitude and bright smile were the only thing talked about more than his brilliant mind and skill with a wand. He was one of the world's foremost alchemist and an honorary grandfather to generations.

There was a time when Sirius had been one of those people, a period when he had idolized his old school headmaster and would have done nearly anything to gain his approval. That time had long sense passed away in to painfully memories of a naïve young man with too much confidence in himself. His blind reverence of the old wizard had led him to year stuck in the a cell of arguably the harshest prison on the planet and the loss of his one godson.

It also taught him to make his own choices.

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his spot seated in a comfortable arm chair as he approached. The half moon spectacles that had become a fan favorite had slipped further down the long nose as his aged blue eyes peered over to take in his appearance. He was dressed in what could only be described as a pair of pajamas that should have been thrown out a long time ago. The once vibrant and twinkling stars that dotted the blue clothing were now dim with age. They reminded Sirius of the man himself. An old star that still tried to burn.

"Sirius!" The old man's lips peeled back in to a smile amongst the mass of hairs that made up his long flowing beard. "There you are! Looking well I see."

The old Gryffindor nodded respectfully. "Good evening headmaster. How have you been?"

"Fine, just fine. Although I do find myself unreasonably chilly for this time of year. Perhaps it's another sign of old age? Shivering in the summer time." His lips quivered at the joke. "But at least I won't be too warm."

"Certainly not." Sirius commented with a grin. He wasn't really amused but it would seem rude to stand there stone faced. "And there isn't anything wrong with having lived a long life."

"My thoughts exactly! Though many would disagree." He seemed to shake his head. "I say it's the opposite. After all they say youth is wasted on the young."

Sirius shrugged with the grin still plastered but choose not to say anything more.

"But that's besides the point. Not why I choose to bother you on this pleasant evening. I also see young miss Black is sporting a slight tan. How was your vacation?"

"Sunny and filled with alcoholic drinks for me." The dark haired man replied. "Greece is wonderful at this time of year. I suggest you visit."

He had become something of a traveler over the years stemming from his brief incarceration. He had promised himself while stuck in that cell that if he ever had the chances he would do things how he wanted too. And not even a baby on his doorstep fourteen years ago had stopped him in that pursuit. Every year the moment school ended a trip soon followed.

Live life to the fullest. That had been one thing he had promised to teach his daughter.

The old headmaster shook his head. "Oh no. The days of vacations for me have long since passed. Although in my youth I did travel searching for rumors of a gorgon. Fascinated by all things in muggle mythology during those early days. It always tickled me to hear how they explained things they could not understand with rumors and legends."

Sirius nodded along with him while wondering how many centuries ago had the old man actually been referring too.

"I've come to find from my own experience that muggles do come up with the most amazing ideas." It also entertained him. "But I'm sure that's not what you've come here for." He said while redirecting the visit back to the point at hand. He had been back for only two days after a two week hiatus. He really didn't feel like playing twenty questions with the old man.

The smile slipped away quicker than he had expected. The old wizard nodded slowly before sitting up straighter in the arm chair. His blue eyes seemed to come alive as his gaze snapped up to meet Sirius' own. The dark haired man had been quick to raise his mental defenses the second he did. His time in Azkaban had been more than enough incentive to expand on his poor grasp of the mental arts. Now he was confident in his ability to keep even this man out if need be.

If the old wizard had been planning a mental probe or had been surprised by the wary nature of the younger he didn't show it.

"I'm sorry to say I've come bearing some bad news." The headmaster began. "Something that I thought you had the right to know about."

Sirius stood up a little straighter at the serious nature the conversation had suddenly taken. "Alright then. What is it?"

"There has been a death recently Sirius. Or rather deaths I should clarify. Three days ago in fact." The old wizard said. "No one you or I know personally. It was only a muggle family you see."

"Oh?" The confusion in his voice was evident. He didn't really see why this was important. "What's so significant about it?"

"Who." Came the immediate response with hard eyes. He paused here to collect himself. "It was the Dursley family Sirius."

The man froze in place as his eyes went wide with surprise. "The Dursley's?"

"Yes Sirius." Dumbledore replied with a small nod while maintaining eye contact. "The entire family. Including their fifteen year old son little Dudley." Another pause as the man seemingly hesitated. Sirius spoke up before he could begin again.

"Was it murder?" He demanded with a look in his eyes that now matched the older wizard's. "Were they murdered?"

The old headmaster seemed to look over him before he nodded. "We believe so."

The Dursley family. Some of the worst people he had ever had the displeasure of knowing. They were crude, mean, violent, and rude. They were the complete opposite of the usual pureblooded bigots Sirius had been forced to encounter over his years. Where as most in the higher tiers of his world despised any and everything about their regular human counterparts, the Dursley family hated magic and anything to do with it. They had been obsessed with the idea that anything abnormal was wrong. They had lived in a suburban neighborhood with the typical boring house owned by boring father who had a boring job to provide for his equally boring wife and son.

They had also been the only family of one of his long dead best friends.

The idea that someone as brave, beautiful, and brilliant as Lillian Potter had come from the same stock as her hideous and scatterbrained sister had always baffled him in more ways than he could count. They had been polar opposites of one another but his friend had loved her sister more than she probably should have. But than again that had just been part of her charm. She had always cared too much for her own good.

Of course now was not the time to dwell on the past. It was what had just happened recent that was important. And for as horrible as the Dursley family had been he could only think of one reason why anyone would take the time to actually murder them all.

"I don't need for you to keep going." Sirius said quietly. "They were searching for him."

Dumbledore nodded firmly. "My thoughts exactly."

Sirius sighed as he stepped further in to the room an took a seat on the love seat opposite Dumblefore's arm chair. There was only one thing someone could be looking for from the Dursley family. Information. Information they didn't have anymore and hadn't for over a decade.

It was the kind of information that had freed him from the prison cell he had been sentenced to rot in. The same information that had brought Dumbledore to personally enter the dreaded magical prison in search of him. The information that the old man had demanded with furious eyes and a crackle of magic so powerful that it could be physically felt on that cold night so many years ago.

Information that Sirius hadn't been able to give him.

In truth it was that desperate desire for information that had led directly to his freedom. If his old transfiguration teacher hadn't taken it upon her self to check up on the Dursley family unannounced after only two weeks they would have possibly never had known about his godson's disappearance. Which would have meant Dumbledore would have never suspected him as a source for answers. Which also meant he would have never been dragged out of his cell and force fed the truth serum that in the end proved his innocence.

It had given him his freedom. But at the same time he had lost something much more important to him.

It had been months later during another failed night of searching that he had stumbled in to a bar with the intention of drinking his troubles away. And it was there that he had come across a woman that would one day many months later knock on the door to his house before vanishing into the night before he could even find his way down the stairs.

That night Ambrosia Black had come in to his life.

Ironic in hindsight how his daughter had been delivered to him in a basket with only a card bearing her first name. Ironic because apparently the old idiot seated across from him had done the same exact thing to his young godson when he had left him in the care of the Dursley family all those years ago.

He shook his head. He was getting lost in the past again.

"Did they suffer?" Came the quiet yet firm question. His heart sank in to his stomach as Dumbledore met his gaze head on again before slowly nodding.

"It appeared that they had been... Tortured." He replied quietly. "It is fair to say that Petunia Dursley took the worst of it."

Sirius didn't even want to think about what that meant.

"Are we sure that it-"

"Was one of magical blood?" Dumbledore cut in. "As sure as we can be. There was very little magic over all but someone had to have taken the wards down. I was out on business at the time so the instruments that I left in place to monitor them were left unattended."

Unsurprising. Sirius thought. The ward left in place weren't anything to write home about. They were weak and in all honesty only set up for this particular instance. Not that he blamed the old man for that. The Dursley family had been given the chance for more powerful wards, arguably the most powerful, and hadn't hesitated to turn the opportunity down. In a way they got what they deserved.

That still didn't mean he had to like it.

"I take it we don't have it anything to worry about right now?"

The old man tilted his head. "I don't believe so. I personally preformed the memory charm and it appeared to hold strong when I last checked years ago. I don't think we have anything to worry about." He frowned. "But the fact still remains that we've allowed someone to get this close in the first place."

The Black family head nodded again. The attack happened in the first place because someone had found the connection between his godson and Dursley family. Overall that may not seem like much, after all the entire world seemed to be after any information they could find on his whereabouts. But the fact that they were murdered so brutally meant that someone had been expecting more than what they had managed to gain. And that the person who had been searching had not been doing so because of they wanted to thank the young man.

They had hoping looking to kill him too.

"Do we have any leads? Any idea as to who?" Sirius questioned and was not surprised when the man shook his head.

"None what so ever." Dumbledore responded. "They had left very little evidence behind and we wanted to keep this as quiet as we possibly could. I was the first to find out and took care of any necessary precautions before calling for the proper authorities. Amelia Bones believe it only an attack of random wizard violence on the family of a former student. Not even she knows exactly who the Dursley family had been related too."

And she never would. Sirius thought grimly. Because that would bring more questions we don't need right now. Not to mention the fact that she probably just didn't care beyond doing the due diligence of her job.

After all, what was one family of pathetic normal people?

"We of course will be doing our own digging." His old headmaster continued. "As well as increasing the actual search." The search referring to the hunt for his godson. The national mystery that found it's way in to every paper despite how long it had been. The same questioned had graced the lips of nearly everyone at some point or another over the past decade and more recently within the last few years.

Where was Harry Potter?

Of course they had been searching themselves for much longer than the ministry. But even still they hadn't been completely prepared for the outcry that followed the day the general public had found out about his godson's disappearance. The day Harry Potter had failed to walk through the door of Hogwart and in to the care of the great Albus Dumbledore had been a horrible day indeed. A group had marched to the door of the ministry who had in turn marched to the office of the headmaster demanding answers. Like a true and experienced politician Dumbledore had managed to deflect the blame and keep his name out of the spotlight despite the fact that it could be argued that he had been the number one reason that his godson had failed to show up.

It also didn't help that he himself had been once again public enemy number one. His apparent public trial and ruled innocence had apparently not been enough to dissuade the notion that he was responsible for the boy's failure to show. Nevermind the fact that he had his own child to watch after now and had done much for charity in the time since his release.

It would be the fifth year now. And just like the four prior Sirius was expecting the dark glances and mutters that would meet him as he stepped on the train platform at the end of summer. And the three weeks after that would paint him in a horrible light. And the months later that would question his place in society. It was the same old song and dance every year as the people fretted about his godson's safety.

There would of course be those that would argue that the boy was already dead. That he had been found long ago by supporters of the nefarious dark lord and murdered as a young boy in a twisted ritual as revenge for their lord and master. A claim that was disputed due to the fact that the Potter family vaults were still listed as active in the famous wizarding back of Gringotts. Although the knowledge that they would be closed and the funds liquidated if the line were to end had been calmly glossed over by the paper each and every year.

Other would say that the boy was a being held against his will. That he was a slave to some family in the a far off backwards country. Some said he was squib that was forced to hide out of shame. Some called him the next dark lord in training. Some even argued that he was secretly a young lady attending the school in plain sight as a result of a potion's experiment gone horribly wrong.

Sirius had nearly heard them all.

"I've got some contacts that I've recently made." He started again. "They could be of some use. I'll see if any of them have heard anything."

Dumbledore's smile had returned. "Excellent." He stood up from the arm chair as easily as if he were a teenager. "In the meantime I'll be making some minor contact with past order members. Just to touch bases with each of them."

"Of course." Sirius said with a matching false smile. "It would be good to have everyone on the same page. See if any of them can put together any ideas."

The old man nodded slowly as he locked eyes with him again. "And of course if we hear anything you'll be the first to know."

"The same with you Albus. Anything and I'll let you know right away." This seemed to appease the old man as the smile widened somewhat noticeably.

"Then with that said I'll let you get back to your evening. Goodnight Sirius and tell Ms. Black I said the same to her."

"Certainly Albus. Do you need me to walk you out?"

"No need my boy. I know the way." And with that and another nod Albus Dumbledore departed from the front door. Sirius stood in silence for a moment before shaking his head as he started to replay the conversation.

Things were starting to move it seemed. Something he had expected years ago. Which was why he had chosen to increase his profile as much as he possibly could while taking an interest in things he would have never seen himself meddling in twenty years prior. It had actually been on one of his own personally journey's while his daughter had been away for the year that he had come across his biggest secret. One that he had been keeping from the old man for a while now.

After all. There was no way in hell he would be telling him that he had come across his godson only two years prior.

It was a seedy little bar. The kind of place that only those with the most shallow pockets and even more shallow morals would feel at home. The walls were dirty, the chairs ragged, and floor full of scuff marks. Even the bar it's self seemed to be made of a wood that had began to rot long ago. The area surrounding it was nearly as tattered as the establishment seemed to be with numerous run down apartment buildings and condemned business.

All together it made for a perfect place to hold a meeting.

Alfred Montego sipped from his imported beer as he calmly looked over the two men seated across the battered table before him. They were the inconspicuous types. The clothing they wore was a sort of casual slum look that would easily fit in with the surrounding locals if not for the fact that everything in their body language said the opposite. The two men were too stuffy and their gazes were tinged with disgust as they observed their surroundings. It was clear to anyone who knew what to look for that these were two individuals who were used to avoiding places like these as if black plague was involved. In comparison Alfred himself was at home, having rested at or taken leisure at even more rough locales. Were they cringed and vibrated with nervous energy he remained relaxed and clearly at ease.

It was the exact response he had been expecting when he had chosen this locale.

Seville, like many places in Spain, was beautiful city with an equally rich history to match. It's sub-tropical climate and close position to the Guadalquivir River made for a strong living with the right knowledge. Fine works of art and a number of equally impressive landmarks dotted the landscape of the port city. An ever expanding infrastructure and bustling economy brought modern comforts to visitors on vacation. It was a good place to raise a family or even start one. But even the most beautiful places in the world hid a dark side behind the veil of comforts. And this part of the city showed that not everything was alright.

This city reflected life in ways that few others could.

"Mr. Montego." One of the man began. He was the slimmer of the two. His strictly eastern European features seemed to stand out in this environment. His cropped black hair and neatly trimmed mustache were both filled with more product than Alfred was sure was healthy. "I'm not sure you understand our concerns."

Alfred resisted the immediate urge to snort at the suggestion. It was impossible misread what they had been saying. He just wasn't in the mood to cater to their ever whim like they were apparently expecting. The idea that his simple refusal to fulfill their every request was enough to cause such an irritated reaction was reason enough alone for him to smile. But the added fact that they had actually requested a meeting with him to "Voice Their Concerns" are what took the cake.

As calm as before Montego took another sip of his beer as he moved his gaze to the last member of their little party. This man was the complete opposite of his partner in nearly every way. Where the first had been slim and spoke with dignity and class that pointed towards some sort of higher education the only words this one had uttered were followed with a grunt after each phrase. He was a large burly man with wide shoulders and bulging biceps. His bald head was a sharp contrast to the scraggly beard spread across his face. The definition of hired muscle.

An attempt to make him, Alfred Montego, seem small. Standard intimidation. Useless on all fronts.

"I disagree." Alfred finally responded after some time as he set his beverage back down. They were speaking in English with little fear of any of the few surrounding patrons listening in. "I understand them quite well. I've always understood them. I'm just choosing to ignore your request."

Obviously not the response they had been expecting. The slim man narrowed his eyes as his larger companion seemingly growled. This time Montego could not withhold the snort of amusement as he threw his gaze towards the man. Pathetic.

"Mr. Montego." The words were clipped now. Filled with the stirrings of frustration and anger. "My employer does not take the word no for an answer in matters such as these-"

"Your employer." Montego cut in himself with a flat tone that belied his own annoyance. This was not funny anymore. "Is not here. Furthermore I can tell already that he did not tell you in detail what it is your actually here for. You are a mouthpiece and nothing more."

The eyes of the slim man widened in surprise. Clearly not having expected to hear those words. Alfred continued.

"You see, they never expected any different an answer when they sent you." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "In fact I'd be willing to wager they are waiting for a phone call from you as soon as your are clear of this establishment. And one of the first things they'll be asking is 'Was the boy present?'."

The surprise was even more evident now. Montego knew his words had been dead on then.

"Since you will be forced to disappoint them I'll add something on to it." He leaned forward in his chair to look the slim man in the eyes. "They choose to leave him with me. He is my heir now. My son. And as such all things related to him have to go through me. I have received no real information concerning what they hope to accomplish with him at this point and time."

The larger man had by now adopted the same look of surprise. Clearly this had not been what they were expecting when they were told of their assignment for this trip. Not that Alfred cared what they had been used to. He was not here to cater to their expectations.

"And at any rate I've given your employer more than enough of a reason. But just so we are perfectly clear I'll repeat it one more time. My son is currently studying abroad. He was gifted with the opportunity to receive instruction from a highly regarded individual and graciously accepted. While he is receiving lessons he is also working on several exercises that I've drilled him in for years. When he does return some time in the next two months I will personally meet with your employer before turning him over to them." His eyes hardened. "That is all I will say on the matter at this point. When we need to speak further I will be the one to initiate a line of communication. Not the other way around. Is that clear?"

There was a brief lull as the words took their time to seep in before the slim man seemed to snap out of his trance. He glanced sideways at his equally surprised companion before turning his attention back to Alfred. Slowly he nodded his understanding.

"It is Mr. Montego." He finally replied verbally. "Although I was warned you would not be so easy to sway I will admit I did not expect this sort of reaction. With that being said I know when there is a lost cause. I will return to them with this information. Although I should warn you they will not be pleased in the least."

He shrugged. "I'm sure. I'll just have to deal with that."

The man regarded him with a long look before he gave a small shrug of his own. "Then we have concluded our business for this evening. I bid you farewell."

And with that the two men left after setting a few euro on to the table. Montego watched them go before letting out a sigh of annoyance and shaking his head. He hated dealing with people like that. And although he knew he was playing with fire giving an answer with that much of a kick to it there was nothing he could do about it. Those people needed to understand that he didn't roll over when they ordered it.

Standing the man set a few of his own euros on to the table before making his way out the door. The cool late August air was a pleasant contrast to the smoke filled confines of the bar. He took a second to take a deep breath before casting a glance around him in suspicion. He wasn't sure if or when these people would retaliate but he would be damned if he was caught of guard. Confident he was safe for the moment Alfred Montego traveled on through the cool night and towards the bright lights of the greater city.

Unaware of the pair of eyes that lingered on his back.