Chapter 3- The Black and The Terrors
Knockturn Alley played host to all manner of establishments; shady shops, illegal brokers and dealings, inns, brothels, opium dens… Wherever you'd find someone not wanting to be found, the little alley would have it. It was the land claimed by the Dark Creatures otherwise hunted, the Dark wizards and witches with something to hide, the fugitives on the run, the many that needed to acquire something and couldn't afford to do so by legal means. It was the black market of the wizarding world.
A small pub, tucked away in the corner, invited the more solitary and shadowed of characters. The Murder Inn was a place where visitors drunk themselves to death; drowned away the memories and thoughts that plagued them; cured their constant stream of self-destroying intelligence and cynical outlook on life with the un-prescribed drugs- usually brought in from the muggle world; the ones chased out by society with the slandering of names and the targeting of faces. The Murder Inn currently played host to Sirius Black.
The dark haired, silver-eyed man nursed a bottle of Firewhisky; swimming in the thoughts of his past. As a child, he never had the allowance to be a child. He was the heir for the most prominent and powerful family in Britain and many other countries too; the son of Walburga Black, a woman who was difficult to get along with at the best of times; a boy who discarded teachings out of stubborn spite. He went out of his way to 'shame' his family name; to throw away their teachings. A child throwing a temper tantrum.
And oh, how he had paid for refusing them.
No-one ever could look past the surname and the one person he thought had done so betrayed him for the simple fact Sirius wasn't making him look good. It left a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought about it. How he had been let down, after he had given everything.
*FLASHBACK*
"I want you gone Sirius."
A cold, shocked, unsettled feeling formed in his stomach as he stared at his best friend. "I'm sorry?" His voice was evident with disbelief.
James spun around and glared at the abandoned Black with accusing eyes. "You've heard what Harry did! You've seen it. What the papers are saying…" The Lord's eyes hardened. "Having a pet Black does not look good. I got away with it when we were kids but your name precedes you Sirius."
"So you're ditching me because of my family tree?" Sirius snarled. "Guess what, Potter? Your mother was a Black, too! Are you going to disown all knowledge of her?"
"Don't say a word against my mother!" James roared.
They glared at each other in silence for a long time; each with different notions, different reasons for the hatred that passed between them now.
"I thought you were different James," Sirius spat. "That you could look past the surname… But apparently not."
"It's a bit suspicious don't you think?" James sneered, taking a step forward. "You were spending a lot of time with Harry near the end. Always by his side, whispering in his ear… And then this happens. It's hard to look past the surname when you think just like the rest of them."
Sirius growled. Now he understood what this was about. "In that case, Potter, I'd best watch where you step. I'm sure you've heard of what happens to the people that displease us."
"Get out Black. Leave. Now. And don't you ever come back."
Sirius smirked, cocking his head to the side. A beautiful shred of insanity marking his features; the Black family madness settling in. "With pleasure."
*END OF FLASHBACK*
He had run back to his family after that, a state of tears and sorrow- begging for forgiveness. Willing to learn what he should've learnt all those years ago. They had accepted him, even if it was to gain back their heir. To use him as a spoil of war. To replace the ones, they lost to Azkaban. They raised him back up from the ground he had been left on. He'd turned his back on James forever; on all of it; the Marauders, Lily, Saeviour…
Sirius realized now just what a fool he had been; he had thrown a tantrum for years- not willing to listen. And once he had, he knew just how right his family was. Muggles were a dangerous stain on the Earth; they needed to be separated and quickly. Mudbloods had to be taken from birth, if only to stop the muggle pollution that infected their world like a disease; stripping away their rights and traditions. And if the Ministry wasn't going to do it- then they had to turn to the one person who would. And that was Lord Voldemort.
There was one person he refused to turn his back on, however… Harrison.
Sirius was not a fool; he knew the child hadn't done what he had been imprisoned for. But he also knew that the boy had been the unwanted twin for a very long time before the incident had occurred. And that Harry had known it. Always living in his brother's shadow. Always being ignored in favour for the savior that had been so aptly named. Sirius often wondered if that had been how Regulus felt, but he always pushed such a thought away; what was done was done. There was no love lost between the youngest Potter and the rest.
Growing up in Azkaban would not have been easy for him, and if anything would only help the hate flourish. Influenced by the Death Eaters around him, he would learn all the politics, the principles, the ways of the Pureblood circles and he would undoubtedly choose the side of Lord Voldemort. There was no room for anything else; if anything Harry would join the Dark Lord simply for revenge on the world that had left him behind to rot. To die.
Sirius took a sip of the bitter fiery liquid, a grimace forming on his face. A plan, or the foundations of one, danced in his mind as the thought on how best to contact his godson. Would he even want anything to do with him? Surely he knew by now that Sirius was estranged just as much as he was. James had probably gloated about his first day back; 'Look, you don't even have a godfather anymore because he's just like you. An insane psychopath.'
Sirius knew from his protégés in Hogwarts that the eleven-year-old had been sorted into Slytherin; outwardly displayed a cold, mad look; was unpredictable; kept everyone on edge with the way he handled himself; no-one ever knew when he was going to snap. And it was only the first night at the prestigious school.
However, the two he mentored could also see the calculating way the boy looked at things. The empty, angry, hateful shell inside the hardened exterior. Azkaban had cursed him in many more ways than the questioning sanity- that much was obvious to them. However, however, however… Harry played his part in such a way that you could never be sure if that was part of the part he played.
Sirius knew his protégés were good at what they did, and very well versed in their own roles; their own acts. But they were still learning and had the much easier, later approach than most in Slytherin were given. He still remembered how he had met them.
Unbeknownst to the other Marauders, Sirius had added one more spell to the Map. Just a little one, one that allowed him to get the feel of whoever stumbled across it when they left. The fact that his link with Map showed him a pair of identical, Dark signatures that were angry and resentful to their own blood was a surprise. But not as much as a surprise when he discovered who the new owners really were.
Fred and George Weasley.
The twins were disillusioned with their muggle-loving father and their over-bearing mother and the propaganda spat out by the ever patent Ministry. The two were ambitious and wanted more than the hand-me-downs they received because their father cared more for muggles than the dignity, welfare and pride of his own family. They wanted more and they were sneaky and clever enough to get it, if only given the handshake they needed.
Sirius had given them that handshake.
He had called to them using the Map- choosing to meet with them at the very same pub he sat in now. Venturing so far into Knockturn Alley was both a test and an assurance to them both that they would not be seen by their cursed family in the presence of a Black, specifically one whose falling out with the House of Potter had reached front page news but a few years ago.
The twins had been wary at first but gradually warmed up to the idea; to him. It helped, of course, that he revealed that he was indeed Padfoot, the joint record holder for the most amount of detentions and points lost at Hogwarts for three centuries.
"Speak of the little shits and they doth appear," Sirius muttered, his grey eyes flicking toward the ginger terrors as they approached his corner.
"You know…" Fred began.
"That isn't quite how it goes," George finished, the pair sliding into the booth.
"Like I care," Sirius said smoothly, swirling his bottle. "My version is much more fitting for the pair of you."
"I'm insulted…"
"I know Fred; you'd think after everything we've done…"
"That we do, brother, that we do…"
Sirius rolled his eyes at the twins' commentary. They did it much too often and when they put their minds to it, could be extremely unnerving. This occasion, however, they were using it to be annoying and to display some humor; Sirius supposed they were good for that. Besides, the Death Eater circles could do with cheering up; a splash of color here, a few pranks there… Much better for the moral fibre of the group. He shook his head; he'd allowed his intoxicated thoughts to get away with him.
"Were you seen when you unexpectedly decided to stalk me?" he drawled, wondering yet again why he had given them pendants that allowed them to find him should they need him.
"Now I really am insulted," the two mumbled.
Sirius smirked bitterly; so much like he and James had been, it almost hurt… "I suppose there is a reason you are here, Twin One, Twin Two?"
"Of course," Fred scoffed.
"We could be spending this night planning pranks on Snape." George sniffed. "We didn't have…"
"…to come here and give you the…"
"…little titbit of information we've found."
The Black Heir rolled his eyes. "Just tell me. It won't be long before someone notices your disappearance."
"Well, we were out for an innocent midnight stroll," George began…
"Couldn't sleep and all that," Fred inputted.
"When we overhead a wonderful little conversation between Dumbles and Snape."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"From what we heard," Fred said. "It sounded as though…"
"A beautiful little object is being…"
"…hidden at Hogwarts. And that the plan is…"
"…to draw in the Dark Lord and try to trap him, using dear…"
"…little, saint, Saeviour Potter's Gryffindor, reckless stupidity and ingrained need to fight the evil of this world…"
"…against him," George finished, before leaning in and saying in a much lower tone. "Such a beautiful object is also known as a stone made by one Nicholas Flamel." George leaned back. "Snape is completely against the idea."
"Thinks Potter will get himself killed, as well as others…"
"…and really doesn't fancy the idea of an inquiry from the Ministry."
A malicious grin grew on Sirius's face at the thought. "Well, we must prepare for the return of the Dark Lord then, mustn't we?"
The twins glanced at each other, similar grins forming on their faces.
"Oh this will be fun," they said together.
Sirius rapped the table thoughtfully. "Keep an eye and ear out, anything and everything is to be reported back to me in the usual way. If you see an opening to help the Dark Lord that won't get you compromised, take it. This could very well be the moment we've all been waiting for."
The twins nodded curtly.
Absently, Sirius casted a tempus charm; 01:02am. "You'd best return to the castle." He stood up. "I shall go about stirring up the old circles." He gave a short, mock bow. "Until next time."
One of the few remaining Blacks swept out of the pub, his intoxication all but forgotten as he expertly flipped a galleon towards the bar attendant.
Long strides carried him to the nearest Floo Service and handful of green powder to Malfoy Manor. Skipping out of the fireplace, into the blonde Lord's study he sung out,
"Oh Lucy!" A grin appeared on his face. "Have I got news for you!"
And didn't he just.
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