Updated: 27 April 2007.
Edited: 02 January 2008
"So, what's it like? Working for the Bulgarian team?" said George Weasley in excitable curiosity as he came to stand on one side of the desk. Not many people could tell the twins apart, but Arcturus had far more accurate methods of identifying people, rather than relying on visual perceptions alone.
"You must get really good seats at the World Cup!" his twin added, mirroring his brother's position on the other side of the desk.
"Is it true you're good friends with Krum?" the youngest Weasley brother chipped in, seeming to have forgotten all that his inquisitive nature could reward him with as he joined his brothers in badgering a 'recovered' Arcturus with questions.
The small group of teenagers had cornered the Durmstrang student in the study, spotting him taking notes from several books on Quidditch and strategy; the sight of the boy they were slightly wary of taking an interest in sport quickly dismantling the wall of intimidation that Arcturus had worked so diligently to build.
"It has its perks," said Arcturus illusively, glaring at Harry before returning his attention to his latest game plan. Ever since their conversation a couple of days earlier, Arcturus had discovered that he had a vested interest in the Boy-Who-Lived. Without his Token to meter the flow of hormones that skewed his emotions, the older boy had to concede that he was not that much unlike the Potter heir. He also realised that, with careful meditation and hormone-suppressing potions, he could recover his stoic resolve, and that assisting Harry to control his own emotions would make him a formidable ally. After all, even with the destabilising rush of hormones doctoring his mind, his uncle's godson had faced the Dark Lord three times and prospered. With a calculative perception and additional training, the kid would surely give reason to why Voldemort wanted him dead as a baby, and there was never any question that Harry shared his own desire to see the Dark Lord dead.
"Wicked!" an awed Ron went on, clearly not of mind to deduce when his presence was unwelcome. It took all of Arcturus' resolve not to retaliate when the clueless teen started looking over the notes scattered on the table. "I see you're using chess strategy as a base for these game plans… say, that's a really brilliant move!"
Arcturus looked up, undeniably surprised; not many people would be able to identify the inspiration for his game strategies. He exchanged a sidelong look at Harry, who was standing slightly behind his friend, pretending to inspect the books on the shelf. Perhaps there was more to the youngest Weasley boy than he had given credit for.
"Yes, I see they do teach something at Hogwarts after all," said Arcturus with a smirk. "I wonder… could you tell me under which circumstances this particular formation would work?"
Eagerly accepting the proffered sheet of parchment, Ron's face screwed up in serious contemplation as he studied the sketch intently. Lowering the page only moments thereafter, he looked at Arcturus unsurely.
"Um… the Keeper on the opposing team would have to favour the right hoop, and one of their Beaters would have to be left handed," said Ron analytically. Eyes lighting up in recognition, he became slightly more sure of himself as he smiled excitedly. "This plan is for the Ballycastle Bats, isn't it? But they haven't made the play-offs…"
Undeniably impressed by Ron's deductive abilities, Arcturus leant back in his chair and decided to be a little more civil to the excitable redhead.
"True," he admitted; "but there's every possibility they could be the Wild Card entry."
"But every team has equal chances of being drawn!" said George.
"That's why they call it a Wild Card entry!" added Fred, completing his twins' line of thought without missing a beat.
Ron spluttered.
"Don't tell me you've considered contingences for every team…"
Arcturus cocked a brow.
"I'm paid to be prepared for anything; it's not all ringside seats and victory parties, you know," he said, fondly reminiscing on the perks that came with his job. "I'm not afraid of a little hard work."
"You get paid?" the three redheads spluttered, unable to fathom receiving financial restitution for doing something over half the boys in the wizarding world would give their wands for.
"Of course," said Arcturus with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Money is quite the motivator. Week to week it's only a small stipend, but when the team is in season and we win, I get bonuses."
Fred and George looked at each other decisively, seemingly communicating without words.
"How much are we talking, here?" said Fred eagerly.
"Fred and I are the Gryffindor Quidditch Captains this year, you see," explained George.
"Not very often the captaincy goes to two people," added Fred.
"-But we've always been known to do everything together," finished George.
"If you haven't noticed already," they said in unison.
Consciously aware that his head was moving left to right as the twins finished each other's sentences, Arcturus frowned and levelled a glare at the pair.
"Do you have a point to this little verbal spar of yours, or should I hazard a guess?" said Arcturus with a sneer; he really wanted to have all his Wild Card contingencies ready before the next practice, and with the longer owl journey to consider he was cutting it very short.
"We would like to retain your services!" the pair announced.
"You couldn't afford me," said Arcturus with a derisive snort. Pointedly, he returned his attentions back to his game plans, intent on ignoring the teens until they left him alone.
"Probably not," admitted George.
"But George 'n I have been operating a little side business for years, and have a bit saved up," said Fred.
"We were going to use the money to open a joke shop after we graduate," explained George, his eyes fleeting over to wards Harry in hidden meaning. "But if it could give our team an edge…"
"We really want to be good captains!" added Fred, cutting his brother off. "Our predecessors have left some mighty large shoes to fill…"
"Oliver Wood, that's right," said Arcturus, looking up with renewed interest. The former Gryffindor captain had been drafted by the British National Team his first year out of Hogwarts, and Arcturus made it his business to thoroughly research the attributes of all the opposing teams' recruits. Wood, as he could recall, played Keeper, and while the lad had a fair bit of work to bring himself up to international standard, was known to be a brilliant strategist; the British team having evolved their game plans shortly after the boy's admission to the team. Looking, then, at the two redheads entrusted to captain in Wood's stead, Arcturus could not overlook the advantage of studying the structure of a team where Wood had gotten his start; particularly since it was likely that the team still deployed a lot of Wood's strategies.
"You know Oliver?" spluttered Ron, eyes wide.
"I make it my business to know everyone drafted to the National League," said Arcturus boorishly. Then, returning his attention to the twins, he addressed their forward request. "Do you have Omnicular recordings of one of your matches? If I am to consider tailoring a plan for your team, I will need to assess your weaknesses and strengths…"
"You mean you'll help us?" said George, eying his twin in excitement. Arcturus did not miss the appreciative glance Fred then shot Harry's way.
"I will assess your team, and if I see potential, will consider offering some advice," said Arcturus. "But it will have to wait til the weekend, as my commitments to the Bulgarian team take precedent."
"Oh, of course, of course," said Fred reverently, backing away from the desk and bowing slightly.
"It will take us a few days to track down an Omnicular recording, anyway," said George, doing the same.
"If all else fails, Dumbledore might lend us his Pensieve," said Fred, addressing his brother as they edged out of the room.
Doubling back, George brokered the question to their (prospective) new team patron.
"Would Pensieve memories suffice? If we can't find a suitable Omnicular recording?" he said sincerely. "There's three of our team under this roof as we speak, and we're incidentally the three who have been on the team the longest…"
"Yeah, Harry made the team in his first year," Ron pointed out helpfully, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to where the unusually quiet teen was watching the exchange with covert interest.
"Youngest Seeker in a Century," the twins chorused, each teen making a show of patting Harry on the back as they passed, politely taking their leave to allow Arcturus to get his work done once he had nodded his assent to their alternate plan.
Seeing that he was now alone in the room with the silent Harry and imposing Arcturus, who had returned his attention back to his work and was ignoring him, Ron swallowed thickly.
"I'll er, leave you to it, then," he said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes when Arcturus looked up at him impatiently. "Perhaps we could have a game of chess, or something, sometime… you'd have to know the game, right, in order to use its principles in Quidditch… and I've been told I'm really had to beat…"
Arcturus stared at the boy dispassionately, and said nothing. Likening the older teen's countenance to how they'd first met, Ron paled and quickly excused himself, stammering nonsensical apologies and gratitude as he backed out of the room. Noting that Harry still remained, Arcturus waved the door closed with a wandless display of ward manipulation and abandoned his work. Leaning back from the desk, he tilted his chair onto its hind legs and stretched his hands behind his head in a languid pose.
"You're unseasonably quiet when with your peers, Harry," Arcturus observed. "Youngest Seeker in a Century, hmmm? Boy-Who-Lived… Triwizard Champion… that's quite a collection of titles for one who appears so shy in a crowd. How ironic – a bona fide celebrity who does not like attention."
Harry scoffed at the teen's sarcasm and fearlessly retaliated with some of his own.
"Yes, well, there's no mistaking whose cousin you are!" said Harry. "My first Potions lesson, Snape sneered down his abnormally long nose at me and called me a celebrity."
Initially insulted by the comparison, Arcturus could not help but smirk at Harry's description of Snape's nose.
"Yes, he does have rather a large nose," agreed Arcturus, his lips curling into a malicious smile as he thought of all the things he could do to humiliate his cousin when next he visited Order Headquarters. "Clearly from his Muggle father's side…"
"Snape's dad was a Muggle?" spluttered Harry in shock.
"Yes, explains a lot, doesn't it?" said Arcturus flippantly. "Though I wouldn't suggest spreading such rumours… I suspect he's a tad touchy about it, and you wouldn't want to go through a year at school, unable to eat or drink anything for fear of reprisals."
"You seem to know him pretty well," said Harry carefully. "I thought you'd only met for the first time this summer?"
"We are not, what you would say, 'personally acquainted'," said Arcturus. "His reputation, however, precedes him. My Headmaster once travelled in the same social circles as him, and my Potions Master worked alongside him when they were studying for their Mastery together. People talk."
"Why do you hate him?" asked Harry.
"You ask that as though there is something to like about the man," said Arcturus with a touch of incredulity. "Why do you all hate him so much?"
"Because he's a slimy git who hated all of us from day one," said Harry in return.
"Then there's your answer," stated Arcturus, straightening up in his chair and preparing to get back down to his work. He didn't particularly wish to implicate his cousin in his mother's death; not when the other teenagers in the house still had to attend lessons with the man.
Seeing that he was about to be dismissed – or ignored – Harry pushed back off the shelf he was leaning against and moved closer to the desk.
"Are you really going to consider helping the Gryffindor team?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to do anything that might change the teenager's mind.
Arcturus looked up.
"I am considering it," confirmed Arcturus. Tilting his head to one side, he narrowed his eyes. "What, did you think your little plan wouldn't work?"
"What little plan?" said Harry, feigning innocence.
"Next time you want to set someone up, Potter, you may want to consider being a little more subtle," advised Arcturus, grinning slightly. Explaining to the stunned boy, he pointed out that which had alerted him to Harry's attempts at manipulation. "Don't even bother to deny it. You were the only person in this house who knew I actually work for the Bulgarian team. I don't care about you telling your friends – if I'd wanted it kept secret I'd have approached things differently – but next time you may want to do your homework before manoeuvring your friends to do your dirty work."
"I only told them what you did," said Harry in his own defence. "Asking you for help with the team was all the twins' idea! I'd wanted no part in it, but came with them just in case they bothered you and didn't back off…"
"Ah, but you cannot deny that you would be grateful for the assistance I could offer your team," said Arcturus, toying with the teen. He didn't feel the need to point out that he was more than capable of dealing with a few persistent redheads.
"Of course I would be!" snapped Harry. "But that doesn't mean I think you should do it! What if you get Sorted into a different house?"
"What are you talking about?" said Arcturus, immediately on alert.
"When you come to Hogwarts… we get Sorted into opposing Houses. Sirius says that you're likely to go into either Ravenclaw or Slytherin," explained Harry in a rush. "If you help Gryffindor you could be paving the way for your opposing team to win!"
"Oh, how noble… sacrificing what's good for the team in favour of doing the honourable thing!" said Arcturus mockingly. "Did it not occur to you that I could be offering my assistance in order to sabotage a potential rival?"
"You wouldn't!" Harry did a double-take, a look of hurt and betrayal flashing across his features.
"Relax, Harry," Arcturus said breezily, assuring the boy that he did value their budding, if strange, little understanding of each other. "I may have grown up hanging around Dark Creatures and killing Death Eaters in my spare time, but that does not preclude me from having principles. Whilst I cannot deny the appeal of studying the childhood team of an up and coming strategist such as Oliver Wood, I would never set out to actively sabotage a game. I don't believe in hollow wins."
"But if you get Sorted into a different house, and they find out you helped us, it could make things difficult for you!" said Harry in concern.
Arcturus waved his hand dismissively, cutting the boy off.
"I wouldn't fixate on things that will never eventuate, if I were you," said Arcturus. "I assure you I've no intentions of leaving Durmstrang."
His face lighting up in realisation, Harry shook his head slowly.
"You may want to make that clear to Sirius, then," said Harry awkwardly. "He and Dumbledore have been heard talking about your enrolment…"
Arcturus' face darkened, and for a moment Harry could see just what was so powerful about the teen that he could intimidate grown Death Eaters. Sending his books flying back to the shelves with a subtle wave of his wand, he secured his notes in a drawer of the desk and stood jerkily.
"Thank you for disclosing such information to me," he said stiffly, not wanting to take his rising temper out on one of the few people in the house who was worthy of his time. "But if you would excuse me, it seems my uncle and I need to have a little discussion."
Watching the taller boy straighten his shoulders and stalk purposefully from the room, Harry shivered. Angered as he were, the forgotten Black heir radiated power as he passed, and to think of whom such displeasure was aimed at, Harry could not help but fear for his godfather.
"Absolutely not!" Arcturus roared, letting his dissention be known to the two wizards he had demanded an immediate audience with. Well, in actuality, he'd only wanted to speak of the matter with his uncle, but once the man had deduced what his nephew had been there to speak with him about, the headmaster was quickly called in.
Taking a breath, Arcturus glared at the older of the two.
"With no disrespect to your fine establishment, there is no denying that the Hogwarts curriculum is inferior to Durmstrang's own. I cannot possibly transfer!"
Indeed it were true. Arcturus was by no means trying to be rude, but there was just no ignoring that, with running classes across six days a week, longer school days in general and mandatory vocational placements in the summers, the educational diversity of Durmstrang outstripped Hogwarts. The added time dedicated to structured lessons enabled students to go into more depth in the core areas, and branch out into a wider range of co-curricular skills. To transfer a school that adopted a far more laid back approach would be detrimental to Arcturus' goals.
Having anticipated the source of Arcturus' reluctance, Dumbledore offered his concessions.
"I assure you, Arcturus, that steps will be taken to ensure you are kept on level with your Durmstrang peers," said the old man congenially. "It is not our wish to inhibit you in any way. I regret all this change you have had to adapt to in such short a time, but with Karkaroff displaced from his position at Durmstrang and your Token removed, it is necessary."
"I can take care of myself quite well," said Arcturus archly, with a pointed look in his uncle's direction. "I've been doing it all my life."
"No one is disputing that, Arcturus," said Sirius apologetically. "But Durmstrang is dangerous for you right now. Or did you really believe that the Dark Creatures of the school would maintain their allegiance to you in the absence of your Token?"
Arcturus sucked in a gasp and forced himself to hold firm as he felt as though a rug had been torn from under him. A juvenile part of him wanted to reassure himself that the allies he had made amongst the Dark Creatures at the school were genuine, and would stay by him, but he was not oblivious to the reluctance of some of their number, of the tangible power his Token had wielded over them, giving them no choice. He suspected, then, that the Dark Creatures he consorted with at school most likely felt the same way he did when he experienced the liberation of thinking without exterior influence for the first time; so as much as he'd hated to admit it, his uncle was right.
"Yes, well, we all know whose fault it is that I no longer have my Token!" he spat at the man, though he found that his voice held a little less malice than it would have a few days ago. His Token was gone, he was not one to dwell, and mindful of the self-control his uncle had unwittingly returned to him in removing Bane's mark, he had shifted some of his anger at Sirius towards the woman who had subtly been controlling him for years.
Visibly stung by his nephew's words nevertheless, Sirius looked at the headmaster hopelessly. Taking his cue, the headmaster popped what could only be a Muggle sweet into his mouth and smiled.
"With your permission, Arcturus, I would like to schedule an entrance exam on the 30th, to discern just what level you are at," the old man said invitingly. At the flicker of surprise he expertly detected in the teenager's eyes, his smile widened. "I am not blind to the academic prowess of the Durmstrang alumni, dear boy! It's highly likely that you have already advanced yourself beyond the fifth year level a boy your age would normally enter in to, am I right?"
"It's difficult to say with any certainty," said Arcturus, finding it difficult to contain his surprise at the headmaster's apparent willingness to cater to his needs.
"Though if my electives are taken into account, it is a given."
"Ah yes, about those," said Dumbledore, his expression faltering slightly. "I am afraid we do not offer such an extensive range of extra-curricular courses at Hogwarts…" – he paused dramatically – "…However, should you inform me which additional classes you were taking, I can arrange tutors for you so that you may continue at your same level. Your uncle has already agreed to meet any costs."
"I can pay my own way," said Arcturus, old habits dying hard as he struggled to think of why his uncle would want to pay for his education. Did the man feel guilty about removing his Token?
"Whether you chose to accept it or not, Arcturus, your father wanted me to be responsible for you, and though I cannot do anything to make up for the past sixteen years, I really must insist on doing this," said Sirius with a sincerity Arcturus had never heard coming from anybody, in his entire life.
"But Grandmother blasted you from the family tree! You are not the recognised heir!" he blurted, confused. Magically, all rites of inheritance still passed to Sirius, but all material means bypassed the outcast heir. "Where would you get the money to pay for all of this?"
Sirius laughed, his bark-like chuckles reverberating around the room in genuine mirth.
"Oh Arcturus, kid, you don't think my parents paid me off before they cast me out?" he grinned. "Didn't want me blabbing to the press that the 'Ancient and Most Noble House of Black' booting out one of their own – people might have started to think there was something wrong with the bloodline…" he winked. "Besides, Uncle Alphard left me quite a tidy sum, and I was able to get a nice return on the flat I bought after graduation, now that I am stuck living here and no longer had a need for it… so I assure you I am more than able to cover things. Anything you need, really; like I told Harry, you're still a kid, and the money your parents left you should be set aside for when you graduate and want to let loose a bit."
Arcturus blinked in disbelief, unable to come to terms with the concept of someone wanting to take financial responsibility for a child that was not their own. For as long as he could remember, his guardians had squandered the allowance the Black estate had in place to provide for minor beneficiaries, and he'd always had to work to provide for himself. From the age of six he'd earned a pittance helping Igor collect fresh potions ingredients for Durmstrang on the weekends and holidays the man tutored the boy. Eventually, his skill at handling ingredients was advanced enough to take on consignments from Apocatheries that held no qualms with employing child labour. Ingredients were routinely delivered to the house, and he would prepare them as directed, dividing them into marketable portions and sending them back to the store for sale. It was a role Lucretia had found for him quite by chance, the woman positively gleeful at the possibility of extorting even more money out of her great nephew and suddenly accepting of the 'wasteful' hours he spent getting educated by Igor. Fortunately, the shady Knockturn Alley woman who had employed him was savy enough to see Lucretia for who she was, and had been rather insistent about giving her employee control of his own wages. His earnings went directly into his private vault, and it drove Lucretia to make him pay for all of his own food and clothing, at least he was getting what he was paying for... which was more than what he could say for the proceeds his guardian received from the Black trust each month, for the purposes of maintaining him. By the time he had began his schooling at Durmstrang, he had enough money saved up to buy a nice set of robes; the rest of his immediate school needs deducted directly from his family's trust. His appearance, together with the impressive gifts Esmerelda would habitually bestow upon him, enabled him to collect money for tutoring his fellow students without letting it be known that he truly needed the money. Fortunately, Lucretia had died that same year and in the absence of a guardian he had been able to take control of his allowance, so not many people could recall a time when he only had two spare sets of robes and had not furnished himself with the best broom or chest set. By that time, the fulfilment of working hard had never left him and he'd come to prefer earning what he spent. With his current position with the Bulgarian Team, he'd not had to touch his allowance for nearly two years.
"What's the catch," said Arcturus warily, knowing from experience that nothing came without its price.
"There's no catch," said Sirius in a tone that suggested otherwise.
"Though neither of us would be object if you were to invite some of your new friends to your extra classes… help them along, as such," said Dumbledore leadingly, the man clearly meaning Harry. "You tutored the younger students at Durmstrang, did you not?"
Arcturus' head whipped up in alarm, as he wondered how the man could possibly have found that out.
"Your former teachers were quite happy to speak with me once I had explained the situation," explained Dumbledore. "They are quite sorry to see you go. Your uncle was really quite proud to learn that you were one of Durmstrang's top students."
Arcturus looked to his uncle in question to see the man averting his gaze and blushing slightly. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut as he faced an altogether unfamiliar situation – no one, except perhaps Igor, had ever expressed their pride in him, and Igor had certainly not boasted about it to others. Caught off guard, Arcturus was stunned to note that he had no idea how to counter such a revelation.
He settled for silence.
When it became clear that the adults were waiting him to respond to their proposal, however, he sighed.
"How am I to be expected to keep up with my Durmstrang peers if other students in my class are learning the material for the first time?" he pointed out, not seeing a benefit in employing tutors if he was to be taught alongside students effectively several years behind him.
Sirius and Dumbledore exchanged a look.
"Perhaps I should rephrase," said Dumbledore. "I did not intend to suggest that you would be sharing a tutor with those less experienced than you. If others want to learn, they will have their own class scheduled, I was merely hoping that you might consider helping them along, between sessions… make yourself available as a sparring partner for demonstrations… little things like that."
"Headmaster, I don't know if you are aware, but I am currently contracted to the Bulgarian National Quidditch team," said Arcturus. "Between my own lessons and team commitments I am afraid that I won't have any time left to tutor anyone…"
"I was unaware of your employment, but had otherwise taken into consideration the time needed to adjust to a new school," said Dumbledore, reaching into his robes and pulling out a long chain. "Do you know what this is?"
"A Time Turner," said Arcturus, torn. On one hand, he wanted to jump at the chance to exploit the benefits of a Time Turner, but he was wary of what might be expected of him in return. He was also not entirely sure if he wanted to leave the familiar environment of Durmstrang at such an important stage in the war; he did not know his way around Hogwarts, for a start, and doubted he'd have the patience to tutor some of its undisciplined students.
He shook his head.
"While it's a perfectly amenable proposal, I fear I must decline," said Arcturus levelly. "I do not deny the dissent the absence of my Token may cause amongst the Dark Creature population of Durmstrang, but I assure you that it is not within school policy to offer refuge to those who seek to harm a student. It would be difficult to no longer think of them as my allies, but I would be perfectly safe. From your own observations I am sure you can see that Headmaster Karkaroff is not the only teacher I drew the favour of; I am confident that the alumni would not let me down should I find myself in a dangerous situation."
The two older wizards exchanged another look, and Arcturus was suddenly aware that there was something they weren't telling him.
"What aren't you telling me?" he asked suspiciously.
"A lot has transpired at Durmstrang since you finished classes for the summer," said Dumbledore gravely. "I am afraid you will find more than one familiar face amongst the crowds of students at the Welcoming Feast."
"The new headmaster has forced out all of Durmstrang's Muggleborn students," explained Sirius. "You'll not be the only transfer."
Arcturus' eyes went wide, but before he could utter a response, Dumbledore cut in with the news that would clinch it for him.
"Several of your Durmstrang teachers have also chosen to leave the school," the old man informed him. "They were understandably reluctant to leave, but wished to assist their students transition into a new learning environment."
"Which teachers?" said Arcturus, already knowing of the handful of Muggleborn students in question… most of whom he knew had only gone to Durmstrang because their shaky grasp of English precluded them from enrolling anywhere else and Durmstrang was the only school on the continent that conducted is classes in three languages.
"Defence, History and Ancient Runes," said Dumbledore, confirming Arcturus' suspicion that only the half-blooded staff would follow their Muggleborn students.
"The new headmaster… he's a Death Eater, isn't he?" Arcturus said hatefully, dismayed to envision the school he loved under the thumb of a Death Eater who genuinely sought to harm. At Dumbledore's nod, he scowled. "You do realise what this could mean for the neutrality of the Dark Creatures, don't you?"
The headmaster's aged look said it all. Whilst Igor Karkaroff had been inclined to believe the Dark Lord defeated and made no move to preach the Dark wizard's values to anyone, another Death Eater in the same position of power would likely hold the Dark Creature's place at Durmstrang ransom. If the half-breed residents of the school aligned themselves with the Dark Lord, it would only be a matter of time before the mainstream numbers followed. Suddenly a spark of Arcturus' anger returned, and he glared at his uncle with incredulity.
"Knowing all this, you still took away my Token?" he said loudly. "I could have prevented them from turning to his side!"
"We were well aware of the potential benefits of keeping you bound," said Dumbledore. "However, your uncle did not wish to deprive you of what is left of your childhood by placing you in such a position…"
"I haven't been a child since I was five years old!" said Arcturus coolly, unable to suppress the shudder that rose up from within.
Bristling at the implications inherent in the boy's tone, Sirius shook his head in frustration and gesticulated widely with his hands.
"Yes, well it's done now… unless you want to volunteer yourself to go back under Bane's thumb," said Sirius. At the boy's silence, he looked grim. "I thought not."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I care to answer to the likes of the pair of you!" Arcturus retorted petulantly. Nowhere near as noble as the likes of his uncle or any of the members of the infamous Gryffindor house that he had met, Arcturus could not deny that he was glad to be free of Esmerelda's influence. That said, there was a war to be won, a war he had a vested interest in, and Arcturus did not appreciate it when others tried to decide what was best for him, by preventing his involvement at every turn. He was not stupid… he could see straight through the headmaster's veiled machinations; he knew that the man was hoping that teaching others to fight would give him the same sense of fulfilment that working in the field did. If he were honest with himself, he could see the merit in arming others with the skills necessary to win the war, but he openly resented the idea of having to answer to somebody; years of being self-sufficient making him resistant to assistance. If he did anything, he wanted it to be on his terms.
The headmaster's voice became firm.
"Should you accept a place at my school, I expect that you will observe the same rules as the other students," said Dumbledore. "Manage that, and the situation will not be any different to your years at Durmstrang… and I assure you that the rules are more or less in the same vein."
Sirius looked contrite.
"Listen, kid, I can hardly expect you to answer to me at all after being out of your life for so long," said Sirius. "I grew up as a Black too, you know, so I know that trust and respect are things to be earned, not assumed. I'm sorry if my actions have cramped your style, but I am new at this, and only want to help keep you not-dead."
"Oh, how eloquent," a voice sneered from the doorway, the arrival of his universally loathed cousin beating Arcturus to the punch.
"What do you want, Snivellus?" leered Sirius, standing up. "Couldn't you tell from the closed door that this was a private meeting?"
Upon hearing what name his uncle had given his cousin and seeing how the man handled their mutual foe, Arcturus could not help but smile appreciatively, inwardly allowing his respect for Sirius increase just a notch. Long ago, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus had told his descendent that his character bore similarities to both his father and uncle before him, and now he was beginning to see how. Filled with another unfamiliar sensation in his gut, Arcturus' eyes shone with mirth and he leered at his cousin in as much the same way as his uncle was doing beside him.
"Oh haven't you got your new little toy trained well," retorted Snape, noting the pair's matching expressions. "I shall take great joy in wiping that smirk off your face, boy…"
Arcturus eyed the man up and down and cocked a brow in challenge, the smirk never leaving his features even after he'd recognised the man's Death Eater robe.
"What's the matter, Pinocchio, you do enough snivelling at the Dark Lord's feet you have to come crawling in here in search of someone to intimidate to make yourself feel better?" he said venomously, inwardly thanking Harry for the rather apt Muggle reference of the big-nosed wooden puppet. With a Muggle father, Snape would have to understand the insult. "Tell me, does it make you feel big to prey upon the impressionable minds of 11 year olds? Do you not realise that all the students laugh at you behind your back? Oh yes, I've heard all about you…"
"Enough!" shouted Snape, drawing his wand at the boy and holding it in his hand shakily as he refrained from using it. Already, his inability to control his temper had earned him a frown from his mentor and growl from his childhood foe; if the two Blacks were to retaliate by taking him on together, Dumbledore would not be able to get him out unscathed. He lowered his wand.
"Oooh… big man with the wand…" teased Arcturus, grinning madly as he watched his cousin restrain himself from reacting. Turning serious, he narrowed his eyes. "Don't even think of trying to attack me when my back's turned, Snape, I wouldn't want to be held accountable for my actions and would so hate for my new school to lose their Potions Master."
Just as Arcturus had hoped, Severus Snape was caught off guard.
"New school?" he snapped, his cold obsidian orbs darting towards the headmaster for confirmation. When the old wizard did not deny the boy's words, he fumed. "Albus! I cannot teach this boy!"
"Ah, but you will, Severus," said Dumbledore swiftly, in a tone that left no room for argument. Dimly, the Death Eater double agent was reminded distinctly of his latest conversation with the Dark Lord, and he levelled a glare at the boy who caused it all as the Headmaster turned to address the new student in question. "And Arcturus, you will show your cousin the respect befitting of a teacher, or you will incur the consequences like any other student."
"He's not my teacher yet," Arcturus pointed out glibly. "I will treat him however the hell I like in the interim. Like my uncle just said, respect is something that has to be earned, not assumed. And unless he wants me to cause a scene and hex his arse, he'll stay away from me in class – I've heard from all the others how he singles out the students he dislikes, and I warn you now that I will not stand for it, irrespective of the consequences."
Whilst Dumbledore sighed and Snape scowled, Sirius looked as though he were simultaneously giddy with glee and depressed that he would not be present to witness his nephew put Snape in his place in front of the student body. Taken by how his uncle's eyes glistened with undeniable pride, Arcturus almost missed the headmaster's next words.
"Very well," said Dumbledore, looking to both cousins in warning. "Arcturus, I can see you feel very strongly about this, but must insist that, once classes begin, you do nothing that would encourage your fellow students to disrespect your Potions Professor –" he looked at the teacher in question "-In turn I will ensure that you are not provoked… for any infractions will still incur a loss of house points and detention."
"And what if he deliberately provokes me so that I incur this 'loss of house points and detention'?" said Arcturus, fully prepared to take either punishment in his stride but not liking the idea of his cousin getting away with setting him up. "Would you take away his Potions kit and send him off to bed without supper like a naughty little boy?"
Sirius sniggered at his nephew's creativity, but sobered immediately when Dumbledore shot him an exasperated look.
"Don't worry, kid," said Sirius, slapping his hand on his nephew's shoulder and, in a display that all were certain Dumbledore did not have in mind when he'd silently asked the boy's legal guardian to intervene, smiled mischievously and whispered into the boy's ear, careful to keep out of earshot of the other two wizards. "If Snivellus gets you into trouble, just ask the Weasley twins about the legend of the Marauders."
Whether the elder Black had meant to or not, he had said the last word, 'Marauders' loud enough for Snape to hear. The outnumbered Potions Master catching the fugitive's eyes as the man backed away from his nephew, he knew that he had been meant to hear the cursed word. Heeding the threat, and steeling himself for an agonising year of pranks he would not be able to pin anybody for, he sneered in disgust at the two Blacks before drawing attention to the reason for his intrusion.
"Headmaster," he said, forgoing the usual preamble that would see the room cleared before he began his report. The Dark Lord had wanted the boy to know of the proposed attack, after all, and Severus was not about to deny himself the opportunity to see that cocky grin wiped from the infernal brat's face. The older Black, too, would undoubtedly be shaken up by the revelation that his precious new nephew had drawn so much of the Dark Lord's undivided attention. It was now his turn to smirk.
"The Dark Lord has scheduled an attack on Black's home in an effort to draw the boy out," he said, savouring every syllable.
"Impossible! This place is under Fidelius! He'd never draw Harry out that way!" spluttered Sirius, a flicker of worry betraying itself on his face as he considered the idea of the most dangerous wizard alive devoting so much thought and time to tracking down his godson.
"Oh relax, Black, the whole world does not revolve around precious Potter," hissed Snape, his eyes looking pointedly at Arcturus, who caught on immediately. "Perhaps I should have mentioned first that your nephew's actions of late have not escaped the Dark Lord's attention."
Sirius looked between his nephew and foe in disbelief.
"Arcturus? He wants to draw Arcturus out?" he ran a shaky hand through his hair and shook his head. "But what home are you talking about? Arcturus has lived here all his life and my point still stands about the Fidelius…"
"He means my parents' home," said Arcturus astutely, glaring at his cousin. "Prince Manor. Am I right, Snape?"
At Snape's nod, Sirius visibly relaxed.
"So we go slap a Fidelius on it, easy!" shrugged Sirius.
"To do that both the home's legal owner and prospective Secret Keeper will have to walk the perimeter of the property's wards and cast the charm," said Severus. "The Dark Lord has no doubt anticipated this and placed people outside the boundaries accordingly."
"Yes, but he can't have anticipated that you would have gotten word to me so quickly," observed Arcturus, squaring his shoulders purposefully, as though preparing to leave. "I say we perform the charm now, before the window of opportunity closes. Worse comes to worse there's a Death Eater or two lying in wait and I take 'em down. I don't see what the problem is with that."
"It's a trap, that's what the problem is!" said Sirius uneasily. "While I agree that it'd be better to cast the Fidelius sooner rather than later, we cannot possibly scramble the numbers together to defend the house – and you – should they be waiting already! Not at a moment's notice, like this!"
"Who said anything about going there en masse?" said Arcturus. "I highly doubt Voldemort can spare the resources any more than we can. It's likely that he's just set up a marker to alert him when a number of people arrived to safeguard the place."
"The boy's right," Snape interjected in a strangled tone of reluctant admission. Whilst many people were quick to assume that the Dark Lord's followers favoured an ambush, the truth remained that the Dark Mark enabled the Dark Lord to forcibly Apparate his minions into battle without warning the moment his probe had detected a satisfying number of victims. The boy had clearly done his homework. He continued sourly. "It is quite possible that a small number… one or two… could slip in undetected. The Dark Lord won't have anticipated that you would send in the boy, and his Secret Keeper, alone."
There was no disputing this: it went against everything they stood for to even consider sending the boy into such a perilous situation, no matter how well-versed he happened to be in battle. But they could not deny that the Potions Master had a point.
"Who would you have be your Secret Keeper, then," said Sirius tiredly, rubbing at his brow furiously as though to stave off a tension headache. "It could only be me, right, cause you couldn't possibly trust Snape, and Dumbledore'd likely set off this marker of Voldemort's… I think I remember how the charm goes…"
Arcturus cut his uncle off, something in the man's words sparking an idea in his mind. He looked at Snape calculatingly.
"You're right, Uncle," he said, duly suspecting that his reluctant relation would be secretively salivating over the thought of sending the last two Blacks off to face Death Eaters alone, loyalty to Dumbledore or not. "I don't trust Snape as far as I can throw him… but he's got just as much of an interest in that house as I do."
"What are you saying?" said Sirius, narrowing his eyes at his nephew, seeing where the teen was steering things but not wanting to believe it.
"I want Snape to be the Secret Keeper of Prince Manor," he said decisively. "Think of it as a test, if you will… if anything happens to me, you'll at least know what side he's on…"
'Not to mention it's going to really mess with the git's head to be in a position to turn me in but not be able to do it,' he added inwardly, smirking knowingly at the despised man. In the very least, he knew that the reviled Potions Master would not want to see the last vestige of his blood's pureblooded nobility razed to the ground. What simple-minded, half-blood Death Eater would? Snape may be a so-called spy, but he had started out a Death Eater… his turnabout for Dumbledore's benefit likely had more to do with self-preservation than any actual change of heart. At least Igor had the decency to bow out entirely and go to ground when the water got too hot; the death of his friend Regulus starting a chain reaction to what would ultimately lead to his defection.
"Absolutely not!" shouted Sirius, clearly not putting it past Snape to 'lose' the boy in the process and claim it had been unpreventable.
"What happened to not cramping my style?" said Arcturus challengingly.
"I'm trying to keep you in one piece!" said Sirius in exasperation.
"With all due respect, Uncle, I've managed to do that myself for nearly sixteen years," Arcturus pointed out. "I doubt that just because you are now here, my judgement is suddenly going to endanger me. I know what I am doing."
Sirius searched his nephew's eyes for a good few moments before bowing his head in defeat.
"Fine," he ground out, giving his assent. "Go cast the Fidelius with Snape… but Snape, by Merlin I am warning you, if he gets so much as one scratch I am not going to hesitate earning my life sentence in Azkaban!"
"Has anyone told you how feral you get when you're mad?" said Arcturus playfully, inwardly heartened by the man's protective streak. "It's no wonder your Animagus is a dog…"
"Sod off, you, unless you want me to change my mind," snapped Sirius, sounding pretty close to doing just that. He looked to Dumbledore for help, but was on his own once he saw the mad twinkling in the man's eyes. Afterwards, once the maternally related pair had left, the old man would tell him that the venture was sound… a wonderful way for the two estranged cousins to learn to work together and get over their trust issues. Sirius was not afraid to voice his suspicion that the consumption of one too many Lemon Drops had done more than just rot the old man's teeth.