Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Also, this fic is based on Aya Macchiato's story 'Harry Potter and the Gift of the Morrighan'. With permission.
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A Necessary Gift: A Harry Potter Story.
Chapter Twenty Four
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Quick recap: Arcturus is dead, the Goblins are close to rebelling over the theft of the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort is back and masquerading as a man called Empero Gaunt, Hermione has had the brilliant idea to start up SPELL, and the Wizarding World is going to hell in a handbasket.
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For Harry, the weeks following Yule sped by in an odd haze. He attended classes and Quidditch practices as usual, yet everything seemed changed. Perhaps it was his imagination, but there seemed to be darker undercurrents swirling through the school. Older Slytherins had hushed conversations behind secrecy spells in the common room (had they always done that?), a muggleborn Hufflepuff was hexed so badly she ended up in the hospital wing (was it her House or her blood-status that lead to the attack?), and pureblood students were more outspoken about their disdain for muggles than ever before (or had the word mudblood always been used so often and Harry had just never noticed?).
One thing that Harry couldn't shrug off as the product of his paranoia was Hermione's obvious change in attitude. She had always spent a lot of time studying with muggleborns from other houses, so it wasn't unusual to see her sitting with Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley, but they'd begun to be oddly secretive about things – conversations broke off and scribbled notes were quickly hidden whenever Harry neared.
He might have dismissed it as exam stress (it was only January, but he wouldn't put it past her to have started revising already), but Hermione even turned down his suggestions of studying together. She rarely spoke to him nowadays and never suggested spending time together. It was a sharp contrast to her friendship with Daphne and Tracy, which didn't seem to have changed much. Harry couldn't help wondering what was going on, but it wasn't until several weeks had passed that the tense situation exploded into an outright argument.
All the second years were gathered at the top of the Astronomy Tower, setting up their equipment as they waited for Professor Sinistra to arrive. The thrill of staying up past midnight every Wednesday had long since worn off for even the most rebellious student, leaving most of them yawning from a mix of tiredness and boredom. Harry, who had been up at dawn for an early Quidditch practice, was feeling particularly grumpy and sleep-deprived. The knowledge of Astronomy was supposedly vital for proper potion brewing and even some spell casting, but Harry had always regarded it as a waste of time better spent sleeping.
With no sign of a teacher, several students were doing just that while others were chatting and messing about. Harry had purposely set up his telescope near Hermione's, but she barely acknowledged him and instead carried on a conversation with Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley. All three muggleborns were huddled together under the light of one of Hermione's signature fire spells, showing off their spell-casting abilities to each another.
"I just found this nifty spell in the library – look –" Terry aimed his wand at Justin and shot a glob of red goo straight at his chest, leaving a sticky mark behind.
"Oi!" Justin exclaimed. "These are new robes!"
Hermione leant forwards interestedly. "Where did you find that spell? Is it a colour changing charm linked to an impact spell…?"
"It's a modified aguamenti actually," Terry said, looking proud of himself. "Mandy and I were tinkering with it and…"
"Never mind that," Justin interrupted, suddenly looking much more cheerful. "It's the perfect spell for paintball! I've seen people play it on the telly and always wanted to give it a try. We could use the terrain around the lake and Hagrid's hut, and there should be enough of us muggelborns to make a decent number of teams. What d'you say?"
"Great idea!" Terry exclaimed and the two boys high-fived each other.
Hermione's expression showed she didn't agree. "Why would you want to act like complete barbarians, running around and shooting at things?"
"Oh c'mon, Hermione, lighten up," Justin said. "You're the one who's been going on about building a sense of community and all that. What better way than with team sports?"
"I suppose…" Hermione said, beginning to sound convinced.
Harry had drifted closer during their discussion, intrigued by what he was hearing, and now took the opportunity to interrupt. "Did someone mention paintball? Can I play?" he asked. He'd heard Dudley talk about it and thought it sounded like good spell training, not to mention a good way to spend more time with Hermione.
The other boys frowned. "Why would you want to join in?" Terry asked suspiciously.
"Uh, because it sounds fun," Harry said, surprised by the question. "So can I?"
"I don't know," Justin said. "I mean, you're a pureblood… it'd take too long to explain all the rules."
"Besides, don't you want to spend the time with Draco and the others?" Hermione put in.
It was obvious that he wasn't welcome. "Fine, forget about it," Harry said and turned his attention back to his telescope. Even though he reminded himself that he was an adult and shouldn't care what children thought about him, he couldn't help feeling hurt and offended. He'd never been anything but friendly to them (in fact he made a point of being polite to everyone), but they were acting as if he called them mudbloods on a daily basis.
Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but any further conversation was cut off as Professor Sinistra finally arrived and began lecturing them on a shower of shooting stars that was going to take place that night.
Most of what the teacher said went unheard by Harry, since he was too busy thinking about his strained friendship with Hermione. He knew Boot and Finch-Fletchley didn't like him much, seeing him as just another Slytherin, but he didn't understand why Hermione was being so distant towards him.
Harry thought over his past interactions with her, trying to think where the problem had started. Perhaps it had always been there and Harry had been too caught up in his memories of the old Hermione to notice. He'd had always tried to keep in mind that this Hermione was a different person to her counterpart, though - helped along considerably by her placement in Slytherin. It was true they'd had a few arguments over wizarding prejudices and how to handle them, but Harry hadn't expected that to put such a distance between them.
He was still brooding over the problem the next day when Hermione approached him where he was sitting in a quiet corner of the common room.
"Orion… about before…" she began. "I didn't want to upset you, I just thought you'd prefer to be with Malfoy and the others."
"I'd like to spend time with you, too, Hermione. You're my friend," he said in a last-ditch effort to get through to her.
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, since Hermione lost her apologetic attitude and crossed her arms belligerently. "Really? Are we friends, Orion?" she demanded.
"What do you mean?" Harry was taken aback by her accusation. "I've always considered you my friend." Hadn't he shown her that?
Hermione scowled. "That's exactly the problem – always! From the first moment we met you've treated me like a friend."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It was before we even knew each other! You took one look at me and decided I'd be a good person to befriend and then set out to make it happen!"
Harry was startled by how true that actually was, but had a sinking feeling that Hermione had misunderstood his motives.
"You even said you had a so called 'sixth sense' about me," Hermione continued, hurt and anger clear in her voice. "I can't believe I didn't see it then – I suppose I was just so pleased that someone seemed to like me that I didn't care. But you never liked me, did you? You saw something in me – my intelligence or what-have-you – and decided I'd be useful to know."
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "That's not it at all. I just… got the feeling that you were a nice person – kind, smart, and determined to make the world a better place. I admired that, I admired you, and wanted to be friends, that's all."
Hermione snorted. "You expect me to believe that? After a year in Slytherin I'm not that gullible anymore, you know. God, I remember you even told Draco to be nice to me because you Saw that I'd become a powerful witch one day. Could you have made it any more obvious?"
"Of course I told him that, I was trying to protect you!" Harry hissed at her, not wanting to be overheard by the other students in the common room. "You were an unknown muggleborn who had just been sorted into Slytherin! Our housemates would've eaten you alive!"
Hermione didn't look convinced. "I doubt it would've been that bad. Yes, the older Slytherins seem to enjoy insulting muggleborns in other Houses, but they've rarely turned their disdain on me. Probably because I'm a fellow Slytherin."
"Sure, House loyalty plays a role," Harry agreed. "But who do you think convinced them to accept you as a proper member of our House and not just a mistake by the Sorting Hat? Me, that's who. I got Draco and Daphne to give you a chance, I loudly talked about the potential I Saw in you, I did everything I could to keep people wondering long enough for you to prove yourself."
Hermione looked unsure, opening her mouth as if to give a rebuttal before closing it again.
"I swear, Hermione," Harry said earnestly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "I've done my best to be a good friend to you. My Assessor talent may've played a role at the very beginning," or at least his memories of his old world had, "but that doesn't mean I've been… exploiting you or whatever you seem to think. I like you, you're my friend, all right?"
Hermione bit her lip, then relaxed as most of her anger seemed to leave her. "You're my friend too, Orion."
"Does that mean I get to play paintball?" Harry asked with a smile to lighten the mood.
"Well," Hermione said a tad awkwardly. "You'll have to ask Terry and Justin about that. They're the ones who're organising the whole thing."
"Right, sure," Harry said. "It's not important anyway," he said, really meaning it. He was just glad Hermione believed him. He'd never doubted the strength of their friendship before and it unsettled him. Even once she had made her excuses and left the common room (mentioning something about the library) and Harry had wandered over to sit by the Slytherin boys, he was still thrown by their argument.
"Something wrong, Black?" Nott asked, not looking too happy. "What was that all about? You and Granger looked like you were having an intense conversation over there in the corner."
"Yeah, Orion," Draco added with a smirk, "I hope you weren't having a lover's spat."
"You know perfectly well that Hermione and I are just friends," Harry said firmly. The last thing he needed was rumours of a relationship getting back to Melania – she'd have him engaged to a pureblood witch before he could blink.
Nott seemed to accept that and relaxed a bit in his chair, but Draco just looked at him challengingly. "Fine, what were you two talking about then?" he asked.
"Just…" Harry wondered what to say, then gave in and told the truth. "She was upset. She thought I was only friends with her because I had Assessed something useful in her."
"Well, that's true, isn't it?" Draco gave an unconcerned shrug. "I mean, why else would you be friends with muggleborns and Gryffindors and lunatics like Lovegood?"
Harry frowned. "It's true that I've Seen things but I do actually like them, you know. They're my friends," he said defensively. He was trying to convince himself as much as anyone, unhappy with the idea of being so coldly calculating. It seemed Hermione wasn't the only one who suspected his motives for offering his friendship.
"I admit they're not so bad," Draco said, which from him was high praise. "In fact I'm glad you told me not to pick on Longbottom as he's a half-decent wizard these days, but the only friendships that can really be relied on are family connections like ours. Everyone else is at most an ally, not a friend. You know that, Orion, or you should. I know your mum brought you up with some odd ideas, but honestly!"
It was not the first time Harry had encountered such an attitude. As children, purebloods from the same family were educated together and encouraged to choose friends from within that same circle, which in his case consisted of Daphne, Ernie, Draco and Crabbe. At Hogwarts those insular groups relaxed slightly as they met new people, but it was generally accepted that the ties of blood were stronger than anything else.
'Family first' was the unofficial motto of almost every pureblood house. Children followed their parents, who respected the wishes of their Pater- or Materfamilias, who supported each other according to the complex rules of political beliefs and blood ties. There were no magical compulsions used, only the pressure of societal expectations.
Harry had to admit that sort of mind-set had its benefits. Before he'd become a Black he'd never known the support of family, but now it was something he would never want to do without. Melania might drive him mad at times, but he knew she wanted what was best for the family, Harry included. Yet for all that, he didn't want his family connections to replace his friendships. Pureblood loyalty was all very well and might be used to his advantage, but he couldn't view Hermione as a mere acquaintance - not when he had over a decade of memories of having her at his side. He was determined to be her friend for as long as she let him and hoped he'd managed to convince her that he was being sincere.
They went back to eating meals together and sat next to each other again in several classes, Harry even going so far as to accompany her to the library without complaint. Unfortunately it wasn't long before their renewed friendship was tested. In an out-of-the-way corner of the school, Harry listened in shock and growing dismay as she told him all about SPELL and her hopes for the future.
"It took a bit of arguing, but the others agreed that you could be told," Hermione was saying. "We've got quite a few members already – only first and second years so far, but Lisa Turpin thinks she can get Penelope Clearwater on board, and she's a prefect! And…"
"Wait, just wait," Harry said, holding up a hand. Merlin, Voldemort was back and Hermione wanted to start a revolution. "Please tell me this is a joke."
"Of course it isn't!" Hermione went from happy and smiling to angry and defensive in an instant.
"So you've decided now is the time to push for muggleborn rights?" Harry asked incredulously. So many things were going wrong all of a sudden.
"Yes, I have!" Hermione retorted. "Really Orion, I thought better of you. You know what muggleborns have to put up with, how can you expect us to take it lying down?"
"I don't, but this is the worst time to do something about it! Seriously Hermione, why not wait a few years? Get to know the wizarding world a bit better, make sure you understand how everything works, and then start up SPELL," Harry tried to argue.
"I know all I need to know already," Hermione said, her voice taking on a lecturing tone Harry was all too familiar with. "Muggleborns may be theoretically equal under wizarding law, but in practice that's far from the case. By definition we can't hold hereditary seats on the Wizengamot and the rampant prejudice we face stops us from gaining many of the elected positions. According to my research, there are currently only three muggleborns on the whole of the Wizengamot - three out of over fifty members!"
"Yes, but…" Harry tried to interject, but Hermione kept talking.
"Did you know there hasn't been a muggleborn Department Head since before the war and that right now the highest-ranking muggleborn is Dirk Cresswell, head of the Goblin Liaison Office?" Hermione questioned rhetorically. "That's hardly a prestigious position from what I've gathered, or do you deny it?"
"I'm sure everything you've said just now is true," Harry said. "But facts alone won't help you. Do you know which wizarding families are the strongest proponents of Pureblood Superiority? Do you know about the new Muggle Protection Bill that Arthur Weasley is trying to introduce? Do you have you any idea of the possible consequences of your actions?"
"Maybe not, but I know that something has to be done," Hermione said. "This sort of injustice can't be allowed to stand."
"Look, can I at least talk to the other members of SPELL?" Harry asked. "I just want to explain my concerns…" Hopefully he'd be able to think up a good enough argument to convince them to drop the whole thing.
Hermione shook her head. "SPELL meetings are for members only. Some of the group are worried about anonymity and wouldn't be happy with a pureblood turning up. They might think you're there to spy on them."
"Well, can't you make an exception? Or maybe I could become a temporary member or something?"
"It's a group for muggleborns, not purebloods."
"Right," Harry said flatly. "So you're angry that purebloods are excluding you and your reaction is to do the exact same thing to us? Very mature."
"It's not like that," Hermione said.
"Really? Because that's what it looks like from where I'm standing," he said. "Look, it's not that I want to push my way into all your meetings or anything – I'm just worried about you and want a chance to talk things over properly. The next couple of years are going to be difficult for all of us…"
Hermione shook her head. "Don't try to hide behind fake concern, Orion. It seems to me that you're threatened by the idea of muggleborns actually demanding equal rights."
"It's not me you need to worry about!" Harry snapped, too worried to keep calm. If rumours started spreading about muggleborns organising themselves, it would paint a giant target on Hermione's back. "You've only experienced life here at Hogwarts, you have no idea what's happening in the wider wizarding world. Please, Hermione, don't start your group now. Just wait a bit, that's all I'm asking!"
"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing," Hermione said. "A muggle once said that – not that a pureblood like you would care." With that she turned and walked away, leaving Harry alone in the abandoned classroom.
"Dammit!" Harry drew his wand and shot a hex at the desk in an attempt to work out his frustration. The wood splintered under the force of the spell, but it didn't make him feel any better. Somehow he'd handled the conversation all wrong. He'd always admired Hermione's determination and commitment to doing the right thing, but now he wished she were a little less headstrong. Her ideas had saved his life numerous times in his old world, but this time he suspected things could only end in disaster.
It was true that muggleborns were often treated unfairly. Not so much at Hogwarts (there were plenty of muggleborn prefects and he'd never heard of anyone being marked down on exams or the like because of their blood status), but in the Ministry discrimination was rife. He just didn't think it was something that had to be dealt with straight away, since destroying Voldemort and his Horcruxes took top priority for Harry and Hermione's crusade could easily interfere with that. Outright violence was probably unlikely for as long as Voldemort kept up his respectable façade, but Harry was certain that the so-called Empero Gaunt and his entourage would use the existence of SPELL to gather support for their own pureblood agenda. In Harry's old world muggleborns had been accused of stealing magic – in this one they might end up accused of trying to overthrow the magical government entirely. He couldn't see any way for it to end well.
He also couldn't see any way of rescuing his dying friendship with Hermione. Maybe he just had to accept that their differing opinions made it impossible.
He hated the idea.
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"Really, Sirius, couldn't you have found some better robes than these?" Melania asked.
"They're normal Wizengamot robes, Grandmother," Sirius said for the third time that day. He glanced at his watch, wondering if it was time to leave yet.
"Today is the day you take your rightful place in the Wizarding World. You need to look your best! Why didn't you have them made from Acromantula silk like I told you?"
"Because it would have cost a small fortune," he replied. "One which I don't have as of yet."
Arcturus had left very detailed instructions behind. Melania had the use of Black Manor for her lifetime, after which it would pass to Sirius. Money had been left to Cassiopeia and Melania, along with a bequest to Saint Mungo's, and trust vaults were to be set up for Orion and Draco when they came of age. The bulk of the Black fortune, however, passed to Sirius.
Getting access to the money wasn't so simple, however, with the goblins still angry over the missing Philosopher's Stone. First they wanted to freeze the Black accounts for the duration of the Ministry inquiry into Arcturus' death, then they threatened to take half the money for so-called 'banking fees'. Sirius had written several letters, none of which were answered. In the end he'd managed to get a few hours off work and had gone to the bank in person, where he was charged ten galleons to get in the door and then made to queue for three quarters of an hour, before finally being given fifty different forms to fill in. By the time he had again stood in line to hand in the completed forms, it had been closing time and Sirius was forced to leave without achieving anything. The next day a similar thing happened, except the entrance fee had been increased to fifteen galleons and there was a different (but just as pointless and time-consuming) stack of forms to fill in.
"Those goblins are disgraceful!" Melania said crossly.
"I know, and the Ministry is no help at all. I don't suppose there's any good blackmail material we could use to help things along a bit?" Sirius asked hopefully.
Melania shook her head. "My dear boy, you really have a lot to learn. The information we Blacks have on other families is offset by the dirt they have on us – a case of mutually assured destruction, if you will."
"But we haven't got that many skeletons in our closet, have we?" Sirius asked.
Melania sent him a flat look. "You have an illegitimate son, several of your close relatives are in Azkaban, and you inherited your position as Paterfamilias from a man who died in suspicious circumstances. What do you imagine someone like Rita Skeeter could do with that information, if prompted? Knowing the facts is different from reading about it in a Daily Prophet article, especially when embellished with rumours and lies."
Sirius swallowed uncomfortably. "Right," he said, glancing at his watch again. "Time for me to be off!"
Melania fussed over the colar of his plum-coloured robes for a moment, before pronouncing him ready. "Make the family proud, Sirius."
"I will do my utmost, Grandmother," he said solemnly.
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"Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore!" announced the herald, whose duty it was to guard the rune-engraved doors that lead to the very heart of the Ministry of Magic.
Dumbledore gave the man a friendly nod and stepped lightly towards the podium in the centre of the room, around which rose three tiers of high-backed stone seats. Very few chairs were empty, most of the fifty-odd members having chosen to attend what promised to be an interesting meeting.
"I declare this session of the Wizengamot open," Dumbledore said, looking around at everybody with his customary twinkle. "I should like to welcome you all and I am looking forward to a successful and productive meeting."
"Hear, hear!" Evander Macmillan called out from his seat in the highest row. An elderly witch beside him gave a start and a noise that sounded like she'd just woken up.
"I thank you for your enthusiasm as always, Paterfamilias Macmillan," Dumbledore said warmly. "I hope our esteemed colleagues will join you in giving our newest member a cheer of welcome. We will all miss the quick wit and keen mind of Arcturus Black, may he rest in peace, but it is with pleasure that I call on his heir by blood and magic, one Sirius Black, to come before us."
It was then that Sirius, who had been waiting up in the visitor's gallery, took his cue and joined Dumbledore in the central circle. He remained silent as all eyes came to rest on him, knowing it wasn't yet his turn to talk. Only full members could speak before the Wizengamot without invitation.
"As the matter of inheritance is quite clear in this case, I believe this should be quite straightforward," Dumbledore said happily. "Are there any who contest his right to sit amongst us?"
Dolores Umbridge coughed noisily from her seat near Minister Fudge and Sirius could see Walden Macnair glaring at him, but no one spoke.
"Well then! I declare Paterfamilias Black to be the fifty-second member of our august body. Welcome to the Wizengamot!" Dumbledore beamed at him as the court scribe scribbled down his words, forever fixing Sirius' new position.
"Thank you, Chief Warlock," Sirius said and took a seat in the second tier amongst polite applause.
"Congrats, old thing," Evander said, leaning over to give Sirius a hearty handshake.
Lucius Malfoy contented himself with a nod and thin-lipped smile in Sirius' direction (probably feeling a bit bitter that any hope of installing Draco as the Black heir was forever destroyed), while Amelia Bones went so far as to kiss his cheek.
"I hope you won't start slacking on your Auror duties now that you'll be helping to legislate against crimes instead of outright fighting them," she said half-jokingly.
"Certainly not," Sirius replied with a grin. "I don't think I've made a secret of preferring a hands-on approach."
After the first flurry of congratulations, people gradually settled and attention returned to where Dumbledore still stood behind the podium. "Now then, we have a lot of work to get through, so I propose we start with the proposed Muggle Protection Bill…"
"Hem, hem," Umbridge's grating cough interrupted him. "I fail to see why Muggles are being given priority in our purely Magical gathering…"
"Excuse me, Madame Under-Secretary," Lucius Malfoy said, interrupting her in turn. "There is a matter I wish to raise that should rightly be dealt with first."
"And that is?" Dumbledore inquired, peering at him over his half-moon glasses.
Lucius stood up and gazed around at everyone, his head tilted proudly as he demanded their absolute attention. "I nominate Empero Gaunt to a seat in the Wizengamot."
From what Sirius could tell, Dumbledore looked alarmed and Sirius' himself wasn't feeling any better. Voldemort joining the Wizengamot? It would surely be the death-knell to any hope of a more tolerant wizarding society.
"This is rather irregular," Dumbledore said. "The few available elected seats amongst us have already been filled."
"Now, now, Albus," Fudge spoke up. "I've never known you to be such a stickler for rules. I myself met Mr Gaunt just last week. A charming man, I assure you."
Sirius would bet his wand that a hefty number of galleons had exchanged hands at that meeting.
"Perhaps an exception could be made," Madame Longbottom added yet another voice to the discussion. "I cannot claim to know the man well, but I was most impressed by Mr Gaunt's generosity in donating such a large sum to Saint Mungo's Hospital last month."
Money again, Sirius thought, though this time it at least wasn't a direct bribe. It was still something that Sirius, whose money was barricaded inside Gringotts where no one (including himself!) could get at it, was unable to combat.
"We must not forget that the Gaunt family is one of the oldest Houses, related to the great Salazar Slytherin himself," Lucius Malfoy said smoothly. "It is true that recently its members have fallen into obscurity, yet previous generations long held positions here in the Wizengamot. We would not be raising Mr Gaunt to undeserved heights, but rather restoring him to his rightful position."
"Well, I second your motion," Paterfamilias Nott called out in support of his fellow Slytherins – Death Eaters the both of them, Sirius was certain.
"I third," Walden Macnair said, baring his teeth in a vicious parody of a smile.
Sirius understood enough about how things worked to know it was inevitable when Dumbledore called for a vote. Thirty-seven members were in favour of inviting Empero Gaunt to join the Wizengamot. Thinking quickly, Sirius raised his hand to become the thirty-eighth.
Lucius' approving nod made him want to take a long hot shower to wash off the filth of politics.
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The Muggle Protection Bill that Arthur Weasley had spent over a year writing was defeated after only ten minutes of discussion. With Voldemort in possession of the Philosopher's Stone, Sirius was surprised it had even taken that long. Perhaps not everyone was for sale.
"Don't you think you're being a bit cynical?" Remus asked him, having invited himself over to Grimmauld Place for a drink. He wasn't very successful at hiding his worry over Sirius' mental state. "From what you've told me it was quite a near thing."
"It's only the beginning," Sirius muttered darkly, pouring himself another firewhisky. He still felt too sober to deal with the world. "All that gold to line people's pockets…"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's him! Voldemort's back!"
Remus stared. "I think you've had too much to drink."
Sirius' indignant response was cut off by a knock on the door. Above them they could hear sounds of Dobby greeting someone and then Dumbledore's voice echoed down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Oh don't mind me," he was saying as Dobby obviously made some attempt to stop him from just barging in. As always, Dumbledore got his own way and was soon sitting at the kitchen table as if he'd been an invited guest.
"What do you want?" Sirius demanded.
"Some tea would be greatly appreciated," Dumbledore said.
Dobby sprang into action while Sirius' glare deepened.
"It is nice to see you, Professor," Remus said, ever polite.
"Likewise, my boy," Dumbledore replied with a smile that was slightly more tried than usual. He paused long enough to accept his teacup with a murmur of thanks, add a squeeze of lemon and stir it counter-clockwise, before getting to the point with (for him) unusual bluntness. "I am sure Sirius has shared his good news with you."
"Sir?"
"About his new position on the Wizengamot," Dumbledore clarified.
"Oh yes," Remus said, clearly having forgotten about that side of things, what with all the talk of Voldemort and what-have-you. "Congratulations again, Sirius."
"What for?" Sirius said. "It's a bloody disaster."
Dumbledore's eyebrows arched in surprise. "I have to admit to some surprise hearing you say that."
Sirius was fed-up with all the bush-beating, beating about bushes, whatever. He needed another drink. "We both know who else joined the Wizengamot today and his real name definitely isn't Empero Gaunt."
"He's had too much Firewhisky I'm afraid, sir," Remus said apologetically. "He's a bit confused. He's been talking about Voldemort…"
"Then his wits are sharper than most," Dumbledore said. "How did you find out the truth, Sirius?"
Remus drew in a shocked breath. "You mean Voldemort is actually back?"
"Orion told me," Sirius said. "His Assessor skills come in handy on occasion."
"Wait, Orion met Voldemort? When? Where?" demanded Remus.
"At Lucius' Yule party."
"You've known since Yule?" Remus all-but shouted. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried just now, didn't I?"
"If I might interrupt, gentlemen," Dumbledore said, drawing their attention back to him. "I am relieved that the two of you know the truth. I am sure you will both agree that it is imperative we work together against Voldemort."
"Of course," Remus said immediately, then turned a questioning look at his friend when he didn't say anything. "Sirius?"
"I'll always stand against Voldemort," Sirius said. "But I'll choose my own way of fighting him."
Dumbledore gave him a look of deep disappointment. "I understand that you harbour some hard feelings due to your stay in Azkaban, but I did not think it would prevent you from doing your utmost to defeat the Dark Lord."
"Hard feelings?" Sirius said bitterly, then took a deep breath to calm himself. There was no point starting that argument now. "You're right, Dumbledore, it definitely won't stop me."
"Then will you re-join the Order of the Phoenix once I have contacted all of the old crowd?"
"No, I won't."
Remus looked uncertainly between the two of them. "Surely if Voldemort's back, Sirius…"
"Then I'll use all my resources as Paterfamilias Black to fight him," Sirius said.
"Is that why you voted in favour of Empero Gaunt being given a voice on the governing and legislative body of the Wizarding World?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
Sirius refused to flinch. "I have connections amongst the Death Eaters and I'll use them."
"Sirius," Dumbledore said sadly, "That is not the way."
"Well I have to do something as your methods plainly don't work!" Sirius retorted. "The first war showed that. Albus, we were losing. Miserably, I might add, and we can't rely on Voldemort being hit by a rebounding killing curse a second time."
"There is hope, Sirius," Dumbledore said. "You know the prophecy."
"I won't put my hope in that, and neither should you." Sirius stared at the Headmaster, refusing to back down. "I don't want to argue with you and I'm prepared to co-operate with the Order where necessary, but I won't join you. That's my final answer."
There was tense silence before Dumbledore heaved a tired sigh. "Very well, I see your mind is made up. And you, Remus?"
"I'll be sticking with Sirius, sir," Remus replied, though he looked slightly guilty for saying it.
"Then I suppose there is nothing more to be said. I hope your offer of co-operation is sincere, since I expect I shall be taking you up on it. Please remember that you are both very welcome to visit Hogwarts if you ever wish to talk," Dumbledore said.
After a few more stilted pleasantries on either side, the Headmaster left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Sirius reached over and pulled Remus into a hug.
"Thanks for backing me up, Moony," he said.
"I promised to never let you down again and I won't," Remus said. "But Merlin, Sirius, I hope you have a plan."
Sirius grabbed his half-full goblet of firewhisky off the table. "Cheers to that!" he said and downed it.
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A/N: So, what can I say except sorry for the incredibly long wait. I've had this chapter finished for months now but I've just not been happy with it. Attempts to rewrite it failed miserably though, so in the end I decided any chapter is better than no chapter. I hope you can agree.
It would really help if you all let me know what scenes you like most or which bits you're not so keen on. Then I'll maybe know what to focus on next time! Thanks.