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~~* Getting Away with Murder *~~
Summary: What do you think would change if Harry met Black a little sooner? If Black was more focused on Harry and keeping him safe? A lot of things apparently.
Characters: Harry Potter, Sirius Black, [the Black family], more later on
Warnings: Purebloods. Violence. Plotting. [Am I alone in viewing Purebloods as a warning? It certainly ought to be one.]
Comments, Questions, Guesses, Conspiracy Theories? Put them in your review. I do my best to reply!
AN: I have an 84,027 word document devoted to the pureblood culture and customs I've created for this story and it's growing! I have gotten way more into its creation than I thought I would and the research for it is very interesting. I do hope you lot enjoy it as the entire story sort of rides on the nuances of the purebloods' society and its effect on the wizarding society as a whole. I've always thought it would be so interesting to see how these people [like Lucius Malfoy anybody?] always manage to get themselves out of trouble and pretty much steamroll anybody in their way when there's something that they want. This fic is devoted to this concept used to Harry's advantage. The kid needs it doesn't he? In canon he's sort of flipped and flopped with the whims of public opinion and Albus Dumbledore with no real way to direct or shield himself. Especially that whole TriWizard Tournament fiasco.
ANx2: Special shout out to HinaLuvLuvChan who's given me the deed to her first three children, whenever they should come along. To DeadGirlRisen who comments on all of my stories and couldn't see this yesterday, thus I waited until today. To Shadowblayze, giver of fun to read and occasionally very useful reviews. Finally to Lysandra Black, who, other than having a fabulous choice in usernames, shares my liking for a more rational Walburga.
Ever Yours, Pseu [Master of Awesome] And ridiculously good-looking too.
Some fights just ain't fair
Here's a little story how the west was won, the white men came and took out everyone
They used dirty blankets and they used machine guns
And they didn't think twice about what they'd done
Don't bring a knife to a gun fight you'll lose
Some fights just ain't fair
Here's a little story about the congressmen, they bailed out all their billionaire friends
And you can try to blame Bush and you can try to blame Obama
But you shoulda fucking learned from your daddy or your mama
You don't bring a knife to a gun fight you'll lose
Some fights just ain't fair
You stand in front of tanks the tanks are gonna win!
You don't bring a knife to a gunfight
It seemed to him that Aunt Walburga and Black both expected great things from him.
While it was unbalancing having anything at all expected out of him other than the occasional basilisk slaying, in a very good way, it was also intimidating. Even once he'd joined the wizarding world and learned of his famous moniker Harry had only ever felt like the-freak-under-the-stairs. It was a far cry from the-boy-who-lived. He was overwhelmed. All of this was happening so quickly. Only yesterday he was making dinner for the Dursleys and today he was in a manor of all things seated with a Lord and his mother learning the proper way to sip his tea. A Lord who was apparently his godfather.
And this brought up even more questions. Why was the man dressed like he'd been sleeping in an alley somewhere when he had this huge house? Where had he been, why didn't he come for Harry sooner? He obviously knew where Harry lived so he could have at least come to visit him or even take him home for the winter and Easter holidays. There wasn't anything wrong with spending time with the Weasley's as he had last summer but it just wasn't the same as being with actual family members who wanted him around. They were so offended on his behalf too. So ready to leap to his defense, to teach him things he ought to have grown up learning if only he'd lived with one of his magical relatives rather than the Dursleys.
"Why haven't I met you before?" Harry asked, interrupting a discussion on specific requirements for his age versus exemptions he'd receive as a result of his status. What that status was he did not know, he had other concerns. Black set down his water goblet and patted his mouth, managing to look manly and dangerous as he did so. Harry was a tiny bit envious. He thought he looked like a ponce.
His godfather and his aunt exchanged a glance. "I was not certain how I might be received," he admitted. "I was unaware you knew nothing of me and I did know what you might hear of me had a number of things that do not fall into the -shall we say- squeaky clean category. My family being the Black among them though not the worst thing you could have heard. I didn't want to interrupt your life Harry. I'll confess to watching you over the last week. Out of curiosity really. Were you loved, were you happy, did you even need me anymore? You'll be thirteen in a week and your parents have been dead a very long time. You grew up with your mother's family. A father figure might not be needed or accepted. Let alone any other sort of authority figure. You could have resented me as a reminder of the parents I knew so well and you will never know. You could have similar prejudices toward families like mine as often dealt with when I was around your age. That's a lot of variables to work with Harry."
"Well," said Harry, "I think I would have started with 'Hi'."
After a surprising bout of laughter from Auntie Walburga the lesson continued. No one pointed out that Black's answer had given Harry more questions and rather artfully danced around genuinely answering the question.
"Did I mention the aurors might be after me?" Harry blurted. He could have said it better. He could have waited for a lull in the conversation. But with each kind word and piece of praise and encouragement Harry felt little knives digging into him. He felt guilty. They seemed so sure of their safety, of their ability to protect him, shouldn't he let them know what they were getting themselves into? Now however he felt incredibly anxious. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.
"Excellent!" declared Black, startling him, "We'll form a club shall we?"
Harry stared at his godfather. That wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting.
"What did you do then?" Black's Lordliness was gone replaced with an impatient, excited child.
Taken aback, and wary, Harry thought over his answer carefully. They really did deserve to know the authorities would be paying more attention to them than just for a potential kidnapping of the-boy-who-lived. "I may or may not have blown up one of my aunt's after she implied I ought to have been drowned at birth."
In her painting Aunt Walburga covered her smile with a gloved hand. " 'May or may not'. He's already got the right idea hasn't he?"
Black shot her a grin. "Oh that's nothing we'll get you out of that easy won't we?" The Lord straightened his robes, which were rather looser than Harry was used to seeing, as if it wasn't a problem at all.
"Will we?" Asked Harry. Should he be concerned that they weren't concerned with his possible random bouts of accidental violence or potential criminal record if he actually was arrested for it?
Black stood and started walking down the hallway. "Come along, time for your next lesson."
Harry stared after him. What in the ever loving...?
"Go on," said Aunt Walburga, "I'll meet you there." The former Lady of house Black walked from her portrait.
Realizing that yes they were legitimately changing the subject just like that, Harry stood. It took him a moment to find the right door, the house was larger than it seemed at first look, with doors that led to hallways that couldn't possibly fit. When he finally found them Black was lounged in a chair with one leg bent close to his chest and the other hung flippantly across the arm of the chair. With his loose silk robes and freshly washed hair he looked far more the image of a pureblood lord than he had the previous night. A Lord with tattoos everywhere.
Walking further into the room Harry gave a shrug and took the seat across from him. Mentally Harry dubbed the room The Gossip Room, inspired by the sight of Walburga flickering between the portraits along the opposite wall whispering with the unknown figured within. Other Black relatives Harry supposed. No introductions were made upon his arrival so he figured he'd meet them later or that it wasn't deemed important enough to do so then. Harry turned to his godfather expectantly.
"I am going to teach you how to use the second greatest weapon of the Black family. There is only one House that can rival us in this specific weapon and we married the families together upon this discovery to remedy the problem." Black informed him. "Can you give a guess what it might be?"
Harry glanced around the room. He saw a few books, several places set up to sit, two desks in the back, one wall of windows to his left and a wall of portraits to the right. Nothing that screamed weapon unless they planned on taking the enemy by surprise and wacking them over the head with a particularly large tome. Something Hermione would both be proficient at and be horrified by.
"I really don't know." He confessed.
"Mother taught you earlier the beginnings of the silent language. The physically demonstrative portion at least. This is very useful however verbal warfare is something that can never be ignored or dismissed. Most especially with a family as notoriously good at it as our own."
Harry's cheeks warmed. It felt so good to be referred to as 'family' without it being an insult. Subconsciously he sat up a little straighter, wishing his clothes were neater and he'd bothered to comb his hair. He still didn't completely trust that he would get to remain here, he couldn't let himself do that, but if being a Black would encourage these people to keep him here. If it would keep him from ever having to go back to the Dursleys and give him a home to come to at Christmas. Well, he'd be the best Black the world had ever seen.
"Our mouths."
Harry's thoughts derailed. "Mouths?"
Black gave a nod. "Words are not only tools for communication; they are also weapons. I will teach you how to come out victorious from almost any situation by the use of verbal weaponry to confuse, puzzle, humiliate, alarm, insult and even compliment - all of course with relative impunity." That made so much more sense. Alright words, trickery. He understood this at least. He'd grown up with Vernon Dursley who often used his words to get what he wanted from wealthy clients and his superiors. He'd seen the twins talk themselves out of trouble and he would never forget his first potions lesson and Snape's speech or pretty much any other time the man opened his mouth.
"You can for example," continued Walburga, "smile sweetly and inform one that he or she is a rebarbative oligophreniac who deserves vapulation."
Harry honestly had no idea what she just said but didn't think it was a compliment because no one needed to smile sweetly when they didn't have something to hide. Dudley taught him that. Or was it a compliment pretending to be an insult? His face must have given his puzzlement away.
"This is what we call an insult concealed." Explained Black. "You shall learn to recognize, implement and distinguish between them and an Insult Apparent or the Compliment Questionable. All different shades and flavors of weaponry that are invaluable accessories to the Lordly Warrior."
Walburga motioned to Harry. "Words are weapons but they are also toys of a sort. You may indulge in a good deal of merriment, and in your godfather's case cause a fair share of mischief, with artfully chosen verbiage."
"Parisology, word play, is a fantastic tool Harry," Black enthused. "With it you can talk yourself into or out of most any situation and have the rest of the world spinning like a top trying to keep up with you. Confuse them mid-sentence, change their opinions in a single conversation, lure them to your side for a coming confrontation or use them as a footstool to get over your next obstacle. Willing might I add, before you foist in issues with the morality of the situation at us."
"What? No who cares about that?" Harry was dizzy with the possibilities. Ways to get out of detentions, get extensions on his homework, worm his way into the forbidden section and get Hermione to take notes for him in History of Magic danced across his mind. If he had known how to use this properly before now he'd have had a much better time of it at the Dursleys. Or any time he'd met the Slytherins in a hallway for that matter. The thought of using this against Malfoy pushed a grin onto his face. He could even have an entire conversation with the blonde in front of the other Gryffindors and on one would even know what the Hell they were talking about!
"Is it using this against family members acceptable?"
"Who did you have in mind?" Asked Walburga. She looked incredibly pleased with Harry's enthusiasm.
"Draco." Harry admitted.
"Ah, well, I should probably mention that family we spoke about earlier was in fact the Malfoys. Lucius married my cousin Narcissa. So if you really want to get one over on a Malfoy you're going to have to get creative, they're all theomaniacs for a reason you know. It would be easier if he didn't already know you well, we'd have the unknown on our side."
Walburga cleared her throat. "About that, I had a thought." She paused, rearranging her skirts. "Wouldn't it do more for his education if her were able to experience it from a proper point of view? There isn't much we can do about his current image immediately. He will have to work in acceptable changes and triggers for these changes and a time-line of transition in order to change his more well known persona into one he actually wants to live with rather than the one he fell into on accident. Perhaps there is a way he could both arrange a more visible path as 'Harry' and be freed to make bigger, better choices within another persona? One where, perhaps, he could make moves he wouldn't get away with in his other?"
Harry had no idea what was going, something which happened often since he'd arrived, but Black apparently did; he was laughing merrily. The portraits on the far wall looked equally thrilled, whispering amongst one another, flitting to and fro from their frames rapidly.
"This," his godfather said once he'd gotten a hold of himself, "Is going to be the best prank I've ever played."
Walburga lifted her chin primly. "Indeed."
~~Pseudonymous Entity~~
2015
NOTES: Ta-freaking-dah. I love your faces!
Any guesses or conspiracy theories yet?
