Disclaimer: All characters and recognizable story elements belong to J. K. Rowling.
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"Moody."
The name was growled with all the viciousness of an enraged bulldog. It certainly held all the displeasure he had felt after hearing what the idiot had done to Corvus. Had dared to do to his son. Though even without that factored in … there were some things you just did not do to an ally. Especially one who had readily sworn the oath demanded of him, and had been nothing but courteous to everybody. Even when he did not need to. One who had furthermore been vouched for by their leader himself.
All in all, Alastor Moody had been very much out of line. Though possibly the old goat had managed to forget he was not an Auror anymore. And that Corvus was not a crime suspect. Looking so much like Bellatrix had probably not helped his case, either. However, that was still no excuse whatsoever in Severus' books ...
Admittedly, the boy had actually been lying to everybody, but that was hardly his fault. However, he had been perfectly truthful about the important matters … that he was against Voldemort, that he was not a risk to their safety, and willing to aid the Order. After all, he needed their help in return if he was ever going to get out from under the shadow of the Dark Lord. Taking on a different identity had unfortunately neither allowed Corvus to escape the prophecy, nor severed the strange link he shared with the madman. To survive, and hopefully take the Dark Lord down before too long, they would need the Order.
Unless the Ministry managed to miraculously shape up under its new leadership, which remained more than doubtful. Certainly it was nothing they could count on. And thus they had to make nice with the various members of the Order, no matter how much some individuals might irk him ...
"Snape," the other wizard acknowledged, his raspy voice unexpectedly non-confrontational. Well, well, wasn't that interesting?
His body-language was even more revealing, as the old Auror had suddenly stilled, and while his hand had almost completed the movement to draw his wand … it had not finished the move. Nor would Moody meet Severus' eyes, which was equally unusual. Normally the man always seemed to be spoiling for a fight, even around witnesses. To show such restraint when they were alone … might mean he actually felt guilty. And possibly even conflicted about his old, ongoing vendetta against Severus himself.
"I hope you are pleased with yourself," he told the old fool in his most acerbic tones.
"It's obvious you aren't," Moody replied, still not looking him in the eye. In fact, he appeared rather sulky. Most interesting, indeed.
"Did you even consider the possible consequences? What if the boy had been exactly who he claimed to be? A stranger, whose allegiance and commitment we have yet to fully win? How do you think he might have reacted after being assaulted by someone supposedly on his side? But I assume you were so caught up in your narrow, paranoid world, you failed to see the bigger picture?" Severus asked scathingly, crossing his arms and staring hard at the other wizard.
Tapping his wand impatiently against his left biceps, because he was not so foolish as to confront Moody unarmed. The old Auror was finally returning Severus' glare, and the sulkiness was giving way to a rage of his own. Though he still had not drawn his wand.
"Well, excuse me, I'd just seen him come in looking like Harry Potter. Which made no sense at all, and positively screamed of deceit and lies!"
"An idea which was firmly stuck in your mind all along, wasn't it? But you had no right whatsoever to subject him to Veritaserum … especially when the boy kept asking you to call Albus!"
The idiot visibly faltered at that argument, though his one-eyed glare did not let up.
"I thought he was just trying to delay me, and to wriggle out of telling the truth," he spat out finally.
Severus shook his head and gave him a truly venomous look. "You may have been a great Auror once upon a time, Moody, but you fail amazingly at some things which can be even more important than the truth in the long run … like diplomacy. Not everything is a mystery begging to be solved by the great detective Mad-eye and his astonishing false eye of truth-seeking," he said, his voice full of mockery.
"I was concerned for all our safety!"
"And where would our safety be if the new Lord Black was highly offended by your deeds and subsequently kicked the Order out of his house? Where would it be if he felt we had broken the very spirit of the oath we demanded of him? He might easily have exposed us, if not directly, then certainly indirectly. His oath does not cover every angle, after all. He would have been quite within his rights to act against you, since you illegally dosed him with Veritaserum. After you assaulted him in his own home!"
The disfigured face had lost its enraged look again during Severus' last tirade. It was the first time he had actually seen Moody look crestfallen. Clearly the man had not considered that aspect of things in his investigative and vengeful zeal against the offspring of Bellatrix.
"For that matter, what do you think getting abducted and tied up would do to Harry Potter? After he was taken at the tournament? The boy has barely dealt with what happened at the Ministry, he did not need a reminder of that on top of it!"
"Well, how was I to know he really was Potter after all? You sure went out of your way to muddy the waters!"
"For very good reasons! And maybe we also had very good reasons to keep the number of those in the know as small as possible!"
"As if I would have blabbed about it, Snape!"
He gave the other man a measured look, and finally a grudging nod. "Well, probably not, at that. But given how much you made your dislike for the offspring of Bellatrix clear from the start … how could we be sure you would treat her son differently just because he used to be Harry Potter? So excuse us if we hardly wanted you around more than necessary."
"You realise that's rather ironic coming from you, Snape? Given how you used to be the worst offender when you thought the boy was James Potter's son!"
"And that is exactly why I will not allow anyone else to follow in my footsteps now! Because I was wrong to do it, and I will not have anyone else pick up where I left off if I can prevent it!"
"All right, all right. I'm sorry. It was stupid. And irrational. But your brat had to bring up the year I spent locked in my own trunk … that really pushed me over the edge," Moody admitted with a growl. A very shamefaced growl, however.
Oh, victory was sweet. But speaking of his brat ...
"And none of that even takes into account that you dared to threaten my son!"
Strangely enough this declaration just made the old goat give a huff of exasperation and smirk at him. "Albus warned me you'd go and be all protective of the lad now. But … well, I guess I get now that you really left You-Know-Who's side for good. I was never totally sure of you, even though Albus swore up and down for your loyalty. I simply couldn't see the why for your apparent change of heart ..."
"So now you think you do?" Severus bit out, feeling annoyed and vindicated at the same time.
"Aye. I've seen what parenthood can do to people … and with a protective streak as wide as yours, there's no way you'd risk your own kid. And well, taking him away from his mother, so he'd get to grow up with better people, and giving him up, too … that took quite a lot, I reckon."
"I might simply have wanted him out of the way," he pointed out coldly. "So I could continue to serve my master better."
But damn it, Moody was right. The boy triggered every protective impulse he had known he had, and some he had never been aware of.
"Nay, Snape. In that case, if you were truly his creature, you'd have given the bairn to your Lord and master. Or just made sure he was never born in the first place. Would have been a damn sight easier for a potions master, wouldn't it?"
"True," Severus admitted with a weary sigh. "And I have to admit I will not mind in the slightest if I am no longer subjected to your incessant mistrust. That got old a long time ago."
"Truce?"
"Truce. But do anything like that ever again ..."
"What about for training? You can't afford to coddle the kid, can you?"
"Do anything like that ever again without checking with me first ..."
"All right, all right, I get it! No need to point that thing at me!"
"And you had better take good care of him today. I am holding you responsible for his safety!"
"Sheesh. They ought to include overprotective parents in the list of dangerous creatures. Probably a good thing I never actually got to teach at Hogwarts."
"Welcome to my life, Mad-eye."
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oOoOoOoOo
Once again Corvus Black was walking down Diagon Alley, only this time it was rather busy, as it was close to noon. He wasn't hiding his head underneath a hood, either. Which meant there were stares, and double-takes, and frowns. After all, he looked amazingly like his mother, though fortunately the similarity to her wanted poster was minimal. At least he didn't look starved, crazed and in dire need of a hair-brush. Fortunately nobody was foolhardy enough to approach him, which was probably due to Mad-eye glaring at everyone indiscriminately.
Once again, he was also feeling a bit apprehensive. Though he did wonder why he wasn't far more nervous.
Yes, he was worried he might mess up his appeal to Lord Greengrass. However, he wasn't concerned at all about revealing himself by accident. Partly because he'd never met the wizard previously, but mostly because he simply wasn't Harry Potter anymore. Not after yesterday. Of course the memories remained. But otherwise he felt so different. Considerably more calm and composed for one, and also rather more self-confident. He'd already handled so much in his life. He'd easily managed to fool the Order, including even Moody.
He could do this.
He had spent the remains of last evening skimming through the etiquette book he'd gotten from the Patil twins. His pretence of being foreign would excuse a multitude of minor sins, but the fewer mistakes he made to begin with, the better. As it was, he found the book largely a confirmation of what he already knew … thank you, Inez, so very much … though there were some cultural differences. But on the whole he felt fairly confident about that aspect of the upcoming meeting.
As for the other thing he had to worry about … well, they'd gone over various reasons the faction leader should have for accepting Corvus' proposal. As well as possible reservations he could have that might make him refuse it. And what Corvus might do to convince the man. Phineas had been ever so helpful with finding arguments, though he had received some useful advice from the others, too.
He was really grateful for all that adult help, from people who mostly came with a Slytherin mindset. People who understood politics and the art of negotiation far better than him.
Because today his adversary was neither a dangerous but largely mindless creature, nor was there going to be a fight. Gryffindor bravery and directness was pretty useless when your goal was to convince cunning, thoughtful people with an agenda of their own to do something for you.
Therefore he had to work with a rather more Slytherin approach. Nothing is for free. Everything has a price.
To calculate whether the price was worth the gain, if they balanced out or were badly tilted in one direction, was something drilled into the prospective Slytherins from early on. Those born into families who traditionally went into the house. Everybody else who ended up there was undeniably at a disadvantage. Especially since they likely also lacked the network of connections the others had. All things considered, it was quite understandable the sorting hat did not often put any muggle-born or raised there, no matter what Salazar Slytherin himself had originally wanted.
Because Slytherin was a difficult, unforgiving place for those not born and raised for it. Anyone who managed to flourish there despite this handicap, would have to possess a very Slytherin nature to make up for it.
And he didn't really have that, no matter what the sorting hat thought. Not entirely, at least. However, what he did have was excellent support in the form of the head of house, and a former Slytherin headmaster. Not to forget he had the current headmaster on his side, too. As well as far more knowledge of his new house-mates and the school in general than Corvus Black ought to have. Add his wealth, good looks, a fancy wardrobe and a prestigious if infamous family name. He also had charm and manners, despite them being kind of artificial, and a faked foreign back-ground to help distract from whatever mistakes he would inevitably make.
All of which would help. But not necessarily today, when he really needed to keep his mind on target and stop wool-gathering. Again.
Yet for all that he was not quite a Slytherin, he was no longer the charging Gryffindor stag either. He was now the heron, waiting and patient. Therefore … do not muddy the water unnecessarily. Wait. Don't charge in blindly. Wait. There would be small talk. This was simply lunch. A pleasant meal, where he would make a new acquaintance. He could be forthright once they got to the actual matter. However, until then … be charming, respectful and polite. But also self-confident, poised, and calm. And wait for the right moment to strike.
Like the heron.
Once again he hesitated, this time with a hand on the handle of the door to the posh restaurant where that lunch would take place. But then his gaze went to the hand itself, graced with a heavy golden seal-ring, and with a line of runes running down its back. Always remember you are Lord Black. And that you carry the flame of certainty with you where-ever you go. Anyway, it was simply lunch.
He gave Moody and Dora a decisive nod, and pushed the door open.
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oOoOoOoOo
Inside, Moody consulted with a waiter whose gaze seemed rather disapproving of the old Auror. But when he took in Corvus' carefully styled appearance, every raven curl held firmly in place by an old silver filigree clasp, well-fitting black trousers and shirt underneath the perfection of a dark blue robe encrusted delicately with seed-pearls on the hem and the stiff neck-line, his expression changed to slightly greedy approval.
Thus Corvus was led with a fair deal of deference to a secluded booth, while his two security-shadows melted into the background with the ease of professional watch-dogs. On their way here Moody had gruffly assured him they'd make sure the meeting would be undisturbed … and that no-one would be able to spy on them, either. It was nice to leave such details to others for once. Especially someone who knew what they were doing. Besides, Moody rather owed him. From the way the wizard had twitched when Snape glared at him before they left, his father obviously had … words with him, too.
Yes, it was indeed really nice to have people look out for you.
The man rising to meet him, extending his hand in a courteous welcome, didn't match the picture of the oily, shifty politician Corvus' mind had instinctively painted. But then, his personal experience with politicians so far was limited to people like Fudge and Malfoy, who probably didn't represent the best of the breed.
Instead, Lord Greengrass was a distinguished looking wizard in his fifties, with a well groomed short beard and wavy shoulder-length dark-blond hair shot-through with a sprinkling of silver. His smile seemed just as slightly distant and deliberately charming as the one Corvus himself had been practising recently. And though laugh-lines were clearly visible around his eyes, there was currently no laughter in the shrewd blue eyes mustering him over their joint handshake. He didn't appear arrogant or threatening, but also not like someone you wanted to cross. The wizard was exquisitely polite, with an air of quiet dignity … while his demeanour gave nothing away.
In short, he looked to be someone whose behaviour Corvus would do well to copy.
Once the first exchange of courtesies was over, Lord Greengrass resumed his seat with the kind of unconscious grace only long practise could give you, and which Corvus secretly despaired of ever achieving. But at least he managed to settle stiffly across from the other wizard without appearing too bumbling. The waiter presented them with a menu each, and then left the two men alone with a final respectful little bow.
He didn't have to pretend to being puzzled by parts of the menu, because his restricted upbringing had certainly not exposed him to finer cuisine. And of course at Hogwarts the food was tasty, and filling, but generally created for the robust appetites of growing teenagers. However, he simply blamed his ignorance on being foreign, and was charmingly grateful for the advice his host gave him.
The selection of food and drink was followed, just as expected, by small talk. They touched on Corvus' supposed background, his impressions of Britain so far, and of course the mainstay of any small talk, the frequently dismal nature of British weather. In return he managed to get his lunch-partner to talk about the other wizard's family, the peculiarities of wizarding Britain, and Hogwarts. All the while studiously avoiding anything even remotely related to politics, or Voldemort. Instead he learned about the man's two daughters in Slytherin, and his Ravenclaw wife.
He was also told several amusing anecdotes of Hogwarts from a Slytherin perspective … one remarkably untainted by the negativity and prejudices he'd come to expect from his own experiences. Apparently it was perfectly possible to be a Slytherin and have friends in the other houses. At least if you were part of a certain network of students united by shared interests in academia and their political views. He could only conclude from his own lack of knowledge about it that they didn't normally recruit outsiders … or else Harry Potter had simply been seen as too firmly on the Light side of things to bother with. Keeping company with Ron Weasley probably hadn't helped either in that regard.
He could only hope they wouldn't automatically see Corvus Black as too firmly on the Dark side, just because of his family name.
On the other hand, an almost guaranteed access to that group of students was sitting right across from him, and slowly but surely warming up to Corvus. And the man even had two daughters conveniently in Slytherin, too ...
That he was warming up was evident from the fact that the anecdotes became more personal as they progressed through lunch, and that the polite smile on Lord Greengrass' face actually started to reach his eyes as well. There were some other minor cues, and once again he could only thank the old Spanish witch. Because Harry Potter would likely have missed most of them. When you lived amongst the Lions, who were so loud and obvious about their reactions, you hardly had to learn how to spot the subtle signs. Which he had started to do in his childhood, but only partly. He'd only learned the parts which were about avoiding trouble and punishment.
But he also needed to be able to recognise the signs signalling approval and a willingness to listen. The ones telling him the moment to strike was now, that the fish had risen sufficiently to be snatched up. His instincts also told him that the catch was indeed what he was looking for, and that his lunch-partner was the right person for the job. And so he put down his spoon on the cleared plate, which by now only held the memory of a delicious dessert, and fixed the other wizard with his best earnest look.
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oOoOoOoOo
"As we have limited time left before the Wizengamot session starts, I fear I must now be blunt, Lord Greengrass. No matter how entertaining our conversation was so far. Were you told at all why I sought to meet with you, Señor?"
"Not exactly," the older wizard replied cautiously, setting down his glass with studied precision and interlacing his fingers gracefully. His gaze meanwhile remained firmly on Corvus' face. Unfortunately, his expression had regained the distant politeness he had shown at the start. "If only since our meeting was arranged in a somewhat … roundabout fashion. Though some reasons seem more likely than others, obviously."
Corvus inclined his head slightly and leaned back, returning the gaze frankly. He allowed his smile to turn somewhat mocking, matching the tone of voice for his next few words.
"Let me tell you then, sir. My problem is that your Wizengamot, in their infinite wisdom, has decided to turn my seeking of emancipation into something of a circus show. Therefore I find myself in need of an … advocate. I was advised their fears might be calmed, if I had a proxy for my seat until I come of age and can take it up properly myself."
"Ah. That possibility was, indeed, on my list," the older Lord admitted, his voice carefully non-committal.
"Excellente. In that case it will hopefully also not come as a surprise that you were recommended to me … or rather the position you hold within the Wizengamot."
"Since you opted for bluntness, young Lord Black, I will extend you the same courtesy. Frankly, I am still somewhat surprised. I would have expected you to align yourself with the Light faction, given how Albus Dumbledore all but sponsored you ..."
"Sir, I have no quarrel with Professor Dumbledore, nor he with me. However, having my name too closely linked to him would not altogether serve my purpose."
"Is that so? And what would be your … purpose?" Lord Greengrass asked with an ironically lifted eyebrow. Clearly intrigued, but not giving away anything more than that. Of course Corvus had not yet put all his cards on the table, either.
"Hablando francamente … I simply do not wish to get drawn into a conflict the very moment I arrive in this country. I would also much prefer to finish my schooling in peace. Circumstances force me to take up this Lordship early … entonces, I am hardly prepared for it. Especially since I was not even aware of it until recently. I know far too little of the politics here. To declare myself for the Light side would mean picking a side in a fight which to me is largely … incomprensible. And no little disturbing, given who my … mother is."
He allowed his expression to slip into one of distress for the last sentence. It seemed he had managed to get his point across, as the distant expression on the other wizard's face became rather more sympathetic. While his unwavering gaze turned speculative.
"Well. I can sympathise with your reasonings so far, I must admit. If I suddenly found myself in your position … I suppose I would not want to commit myself either."
"Thank you. And I was raised traditionally as well. Of course we do not share some of the British prejudices in Spain. To us, purity of birth is far less important compared to what a person of magical birth does with their lives. But observing magical traditions, and keeping our world separate from the very mundane, that yes. That I do value very much. From what I was told, I should find myself more at home with those you represent, no?"
"Oh, quite likely," Lord Greengrass admitted somewhat airily, with a smile which actually brought the wrinkles to life for a moment. "That aside, and since we began this discussion so bluntly … what do you think we stand to gain from this? Meaning the people and votes I represent?"
"Another vote on the Wizengamot? Quite possibly an ally for the future? Or even just a way to keep an eye on me, should I turn out to be dishonest?"
"Or a way for you to drag our name through the mud with you, if we lend you its shelter?" the other wizard countered swiftly, his expression unreadable again. "Perhaps even an in for a spy?"
Corvus flashed him a wry smile and leaned forward intently. "Then what would convince you? Satisfy you? What is your price?"
"Price?"
"You know as well as I nothing is ever truly for free. Everything has a cost, in the end. In some cases, the price was simply paid a long time ago … in others, it will not be paid for a long time yet."
"What an interesting view of human interactions you have, young man. Almost the epitome of Slytherin, while at the same time startlingly … honest."
"The two are not mutually exclusive, are they? And from what I have learned of the houses of Hogwarts so far, it would be no great surprise to me if I ended up sorted into house Slytherin," he admitted with another wry smile. "It seems to match my nature by far the best."
Lord Greengrass stroked his beard with a calculating gleam in his eyes. "Yes, I believe I can see that. Which of course, makes you both more and less … desirable as an associate."
Corvus sighed and finally allowed his frustration to show, running a hand through his dark curls. "In that case, all I can do is repeat … what can I do to convince you?"
"Hmm. I suppose, to some extent we shall have to wait for the result of your questioning. That should … dispel many doubts, shouldn't it?"
"Claro que sí. But other than that? What is it you would require of me? An oath? A contract even? My first-born heir?"
The last was asked quite sarcastically. He was surprised it nevertheless managed to produce an amused chuckle from the collected wizard sitting opposite him.
"Well, I must confess … I do rather like you, young man. Your conversation is ... refreshing, and I have always appreciated a pragmatic outlook," the wizard allowed, continuing to stroke his beard meditatively while he eyed Corvus pensively. "I would like to ask you a few questions right now, under a spell of truthfulness, if you are agreeable. Questions which likely will not come up later."
"De acuerdo, Señor. I must agree. I can understand you require further reassurances, and since it is me who is the one asking for a favour ..."
"Thank you. And this spell is not like Veritaserum … it simply indicates the truthfulness of your statements. It does not force you to speak, nor does it have any harmful consequences. Well, aside from making me less likely to trust you, in case you lie."
"That is obvious, Lord Greengrass. So … the spell?"
"Ah yes. It is not very difficult … you just need to tap your wand to your throat as you speak the words 'cave falsitas', and imagine drawing a light out of it which clings to the tip of the wand. It should stay lightened while the spell is active, and will dim in case you utter a falsehood."
It was indeed easy enough, and as he put his wand down in front of him it looked just like a softly gleaming lumos. He kept his hand lying lightly on the grip, taking comfort from the contact with the carved cedar-wood.
"What is your name?"
"Esteban Santiago."
The light promptly went out.
"How about the real one?"
"Corvus Black."
The light glowed back to life. Now to make it stay, which might require some manoeuvring, depending on the questions the other wizard wanted to ask him.
"Do you serve the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?"
"No."
"Do you intend to?"
"In no way or form," Corvus said firmly. Those kind of questions were easy, after all.
"What are your intentions regarding House Black?"
"I have learned it was not always considered a Dark house. Supposedly it was once part of the very group you represent. I would like to see it returned there."
This earned him a raised eyebrow, and a decidedly interested expression on the face of his interrogator. However, the other wizard simply fired the next question at Corvus without commenting.
"What is your view of blood-purity."
"It is over-rated. Those of less pure birth are still every bit as magical, though they admittedly come from an uninformed background. It should be our duty to educate them better and help them fit into our world. It is often not their fault if they do not know any better."
"And the muggles?"
"They have the same right to exist in peace as wizards do," he said with a shrug. "They are potentially every bit as intelligent and capable as us … aside from lacking magic, of course. But I believe separation from them is best for all of us. Magic gives us a great advantage over them individually, however their sheer numbers and their technology make them increasingly more powerful in their entirety. And a growing threat as well," he added thoughtfully.
Fortunately, since the spell did not force him to speak, he could take his time to formulate his answers to each question. The other wizard did not appear to mind if Corvus spoke haltingly and with pauses. Or maybe he thought it natural, for someone not entirely comfortable with English. He seemed to be getting rather good at faking a slight Spanish accent, too. Another valuable thing he had picked up during the week in Spain. And if his English was nearly perfect otherwise … well, he'd simply had good teachers. It wasn't as if anyone could prove the opposite.
"How would you propose we deal with such a … threat?"
"It is not really one we could overcome by force. I believe instead wizards will have to work harder in the future to stay hidden from them. Considering them very inferior beings does not help with that. Too many are careless when dealing with muggles, because they underestimate them. That is the main reason why the magical population needs to be better educated about what technology can do. If we do not know about it, we cannot guard against it."
"Hmm. An interesting viewpoint. And distressingly … valid, I must admit. Well. What are your views on the Light, Dark and neutral factions here in Britain?"
"As far as I can tell, the Light appears to define itself mostly in its opposition to the Dark. I have met a number of their supporters in the last few days. They believe themselves to be more modern and open, but in truth they seemed far too often judgemental and parochial to me. They are … not bad people, but … they are prejudiced. And sadly far more set in their ways and opinions than they realise. They also tend to blindly follow their leader, and while I will freely say Albus Dumbledore seems like a great and fairly wise wizard … he is old. His opinions and views were formed a long time ago, when the world was different still. I am not sure he can fully understand the problems we may face in the future."
Nor did the old wizard always make the right decisions. He'd also proven to be quite unaware of the consequences at times. He certainly wasn't omniscient. Just … powerful, and undoubtedly experienced. But after many of the disasters of the last years, he honestly couldn't say that following the headmaster blindly was the thing to do. Yes, they all needed to work together, and Corvus would be the first to admit he needed the old man's help to deal with Voldemort. However, where politics were concerned, and what he thought necessary changes to their society … he didn't really agree with Dumbledore anymore.
Because the old man had been blind far too often, and frequently it would have been better if he'd taken a firmer stance on things. But most of all he was old. Not that Corvus himself was any big expert, but he'd seen enough of Dudley's stuff to know that computers and communication gadgets were developing and improving at an alarming rate. He seriously doubted many of the older generations of witches and wizards had any clue whatsoever what the muggles could do with them. Nor were the younger ones all that much better, if he was honest.
"And you believe the members of the neutrals can?"
"Tal vez?" Corvus told him with a wry smile. "Hopefully? But I think they should be more open to compromises at least, and willing to see both sides of things. I realise they mostly follow a traditional outlook, which I certainly do not mind. Our magical traditions are what makes us wizards. And witches, of course. We are defined, and separated from the muggles, by our magic. We need to cherish this, as it gives us our identity. Yet we cannot be blind to the world around us. Which does not mean abandoning traditions, just … being aware. I think you can cherish something even more when you are aware of the differences. But I fear the British, especially your Ministry, are at times dreadfully blind."
"Such is the nature of most bureaucracy, unfortunately," Lord Greengrass pointed out, sounding surprisingly disgusted. "And I believe your views would find a welcome amongst most of my peers. Not all, perhaps. Some of them could do with fresh ideas, and an outsider's viewpoint."
"Sometimes all we can do is agree to disagree," Corvus replied with a sigh. "I had two good friends, who rarely agreed on anything, but still they were friends. They were also helpful in practising diplomacy," he added wryly, remembering the many times Ron and Hermione had quarrelled. Which made him wonder how their friendship would fare now that he was no longer there to provide a buffer in the middle.
It was actually kind of amusing. In a way he had held the neutral position all along, hadn't he? Though there had been times he and Ron had fallen out, when Hermione had tried to intervene. Not that she'd ever been very successful with that. In fact, he couldn't see many of the Gryffindors have a successful career in the diplomatic corps. That was something far more suited for the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Even Hufflepuffs would do a lot better at it than Gryffindors, if he was honest.
"As for the followers of the Dark ... it is hard for me to say what Dark truly means, here. The British have a reputation for labelling a great many things 'Dark', which are at most seen as grey elsewhere. Or simply old, or perhaps dangerous. But as far as I can tell those who consider themselves Dark here are also usually blood-purists and very much against anything muggle, which as I have said, I think foolish and short-sighted."
"And the current Dark Lord does not help," he continued with a frown. "He and his followers are seen as such a threat, that others seem ... inconsequential in comparison. But he is really a sorry reminder of darker times. You are allowing the fear of a single man and those few he has at his side to dominate your lives. He is more of a danger to traditions and wizarding kind itself than the muggles, no es así? Yet he is nothing more than a murdering terrorist!"
Because that's all the Dark Lord really was. As far as he could tell, Voldemort didn't appear to have much of an actual political agenda left. Because it was insane to think one could kill all the normal people, with how many of them there were. Even if they merely got rid of all the muggle-born, the pure-bloods would find themselves bred out of existence pretty fast. It had probably been different at the start. But now, Voldemort really just did a lot of pointless torturing and killing.
"And that is why I do not wish to follow someone like him, or even associate with the Dark side. But neither is the Light side quite what I want," he concluded finally.
All he had said was actually, fortunately, the truth as he now saw it. Yes, Voldemort had to go. But the Light side seemed far too … Gryffindor to him. Which he had come to perceive as something … problematic, at least to some extent. He wasn't against them, not at all. However, as Lord Black, he had no desire to declare himself for them, either. No, what he wanted was to find a bunch of open-minded people, to help make whatever changes were necessary to see them into the next century. Which didn't necessarily mean overthrowing all tradition, but required enough flexibility of thinking and pragmatism to make things work out right. Whatever they would be.
"Well, that was rather more … comprehensive than I had expected. One last question then … what do you actually expect of me?"
"Just as I said … I need someone to hold my seat until I come of age. You were recommended to me as a good choice for that, and since I am strongly considering joining my seat to your faction once I reach my majority … need I say more? Otherwise I have no expectations."
And damn it, but the light dimmed. It did not go out altogether, but …
"Really?"
That question was delivered in a dangerous drawl. Corvus suppressed a shiver. What else did he expect … ah ...
"I also would like to meet those students in Hogwarts who belong to your faction. I guess I was hoping for an introduction," he added quickly, with a nervous smile.
To his relief, the wand-tip brightened again. As did the look on Lord Greengrass' face.
"Ah, yes. Sometimes it is easy to forget how careful with our wording spells like these force us to be. I dare say such an introduction will be easy enough to arrange, young man. It will be up to your own efforts to make a good impression afterwards. However, I believe I have heard enough. Now to end the spell, draw the lightened wand back to your throat, and say 'dixi veritas'.
Well, that had not been too hard. The wand-light had gleamed steadily throughout, until his minor blunder at the end. Because those were his honest opinions, though some of them were of fairly recent make. Many were the result of his talks with Phineas or Dora, or else insights resulting from the trip to Spain. Harry Potter might once have disagreed with some points, or held no particular opinion on others. But Harry had been a simpler guy. He had not been forced to look so much at the other side of things, or consider how to put his ideas across. He'd rarely worried much about convincing people.
And honestly? He was no great loss. Far too often, he had no idea what he was doing. Far too much, he had simply gone along with what others wanted or expected of him. But that version of Harry Potter had started to die the day Sirius Black fell through the veil. The day when he lost what he saw as the last link to his parents, and tried to cast an Unforgivable out of grief and despair and hate. Harry Potter the Gryffindor had lost the last shreds of innocence on that horrible day.
Corvus Black the Slytherin would be able to deal far better with that particular loss. Because loss of innocence didn't mean you also had to lose your way, and go bad. That only happened when you couldn't face reality, which was that … things were … the way they were. You moved on, and did the best with what you had. And tried to turn it into something better, of course, he thought while absent-mindedly running a thumb over the runes permanently carved into the back of his hand.
Certainty. Success. A light in the darkness, where-ever you go.
And speaking of success … he returned his attention to Lord Greengrass, who was regarding him with a pensive air. Almost ... wistfully. Corvus raised his eyebrows at him, and gave him a rather lopsided, hopeful smile.
"Did my words manage to dispel your doubts then, Señor?"
The other wizard finally gave a sigh, and rubbed a hand across his brow as if chasing away a headache.
"If it were only up to me … I would be quite willing to agree. However, since you seek the leader of the neutral faction as your representative, I still have to consult with my fellows. We are not a tyranny, after all. I expect they will want to see you questioned first. However, I believe I should be able to convince them. In any case, I will let you know during the recess after your … how did you put it? Circus show?"
"I expect the Wizengamot will want to see me jump through flaming hoops, at the very least," he joked lightly, his voice mocking. "And in that case, I shall simply have to hope for a favourable verdict, Lord Greengrass. But as I said, I intend see the Black family honour restored. No matter the outcome of today," he concluded with an earnest look.
Well. From the almost fond smile he received back, he suspected he might have made a friend today, at least.
.
oOoOoOoOo
AN: Yeah, new chapter. Finally. After far too long. I am ever so sorry about that, and I hope I have now managed to sort out what kept me from writing. However, all I can say is I will try my best, and wish me luck. But hopefully my updating speed will improve from now on. At least the last chapter had ended on a fairly satisfying note instead of some evil cliffhanger. There isn't much to say about this one, aside from: I had actually, honestly intended to cover the Wizengamot meeting. Only then of course my dear characters wanted to talk and talk instead. I hope you like them anyway.
It always amazes me how many truly positive reviews this story gets, so many thanks again, both to the new readers and the recurrent reviewers! It is good to see my explanations on how the Fidelius works apparently made sense. And well, I had not originally intended for Corvus to be quite that political-minded, but he does appear to tend that way, doesn't he? I hope I also managed to satisfy the 'bad Moody, how dare you!' crowd … that part was quite a lot of fun to write.
