By mid-February, Harry's nightmares had fallen off to only one or two a
week- but the Order of the Phoenix's nightmare was just beginning. Harry
only ever dreamt of what Voldemort was doing, and assumed that now since
the dreams stopped, Voldemort was also being contained; but the killings
did not in reality cease. It was just as Fletch had conjectured. Lord
Voldemort had trained the Death Eaters to execute his plans without his
supervision, while he applied his energies to some other contrivance-
probably the murder of Harry himself.
Bright as he was, Harry did not guess this. He was no Auror, and no anti- Voldemort strategist either; instead he had placed his faith in those people who were those things, and believed them responsible for the dwindling of his nightmares. His opinion of the Order of the Phoenix increased, from an already high level of esteem.
One Hogsmeade weekend, Harry, Ron and Hermione were going to Zonko's Joke Shop to buy a present for Dean Thomas, whose birthday was coming up. Zonko's had suffered a lot of damage at Halloween. The Hungarian Horntail that had been unleashed on Hogsmeade had begun its rampage near Zonko's, which had been engulfed in flames. The whole shop had burned to the ground before its owner could reach it. It had soon been rebuilt in the near- exact image of its former self, but like all the reconstructed buildings in the village, the slight differences were enough to stab the hearts of visitors.
The dragon, incidentally, had been found. After using it for their getaway, the two Death Eaters riding it had released the poor Hungarian Horntail into the wild. A team of expert dragon keepers, including Charlie Weasley, had been dispatched by the robbed Swedish colony immediately following the theft to find the beast. In the end it had not been Charlie or any member of his team who had located the dragon, but a royal hunting party, at the end of January. A certain prince had entered a small bear cave on his property that happened to be occupied at that moment by the Horntail, and he had had a rather nasty surprise on being greeted by a giant column of flame. After hearing his scream, which surely was heard in a three-kilometre radius, the dragon keepers had had little trouble finding the Horntail. Charlie had written to Ron, remarking, "Now I'm one of the few wizards in Britain who've had the privilege of Obliviating the memory of a Royal."
"Do you think Dean wants a Screaming Yo-Yo?" Harry asked. "Neville accidentally broke Dean's blue one last week. But at least now we've figured out that when you feed a Screaming Yo-Yo to a toad and then try bouncing him, he'll keep screaming."
"We should get Dean a Fanged Frisbee," Ron said confidently.
"Did he tell you he wants one?" Hermione asked him.
"No... but I want a Fanged Frisbee, and I know Dean would let us play with his if he had one."
"Look," Harry exclaimed, "Zonko's has April Fools' Day jokes on display two months early!" They broke into a run and rushed into the joke shop.
A minute after they entered Zonko's, a shaggy black dog peered out from behind a trash bin by the post office. Seeing the three Gryffindors were gone, he trotted off towards Hogwarts castle.
Arabella Figg met him at the gate. "Come, Snuffles," she said.
The witch and the dog walked into the school and climbed the stairs to Professor Figg's office on the second floor. Professor Figg locked the door and turned to the dog. "Coast's clear, Black."
The dog barked gruffly and transformed into a man with long black hair. He was clean-shaven and healthy-looking. He looked round the office, a warm little room with photographs of Bella Figg's family, friends and former students liberally strewn all over the walls. Sixteen-year-old Sirius Black grinned and waved at his future self from a picture by the door. Looking at his photo, Sirius felt old. He turned round and smiled at the tea tray on Professor Figg's desk.
"Are those scones for me?"
"Of course they are," said Bella Figg. ""We haven't had tea together in ages."
They sat at her desk and ate the scones and sipped tea.
"You're looking well, Black," said Bella. "Not scrounging for scraps in rubbish bins anymore?"
Sirius shuddered. "Next time I go into hiding, I'm choosing a place with less rats and more rabbits. I've been travelling with Lupin. He's not been completely defamed yet, so he doesn't need to change into a dog to get food and supplies."
"Where did you go?"
"Mostly round Northern Ireland, investigating suspected Death Eaters. We seized three Death Eater-aspirants during a riot in a shipyard in Carrickfergus. Listen to what they thought would help their master: they tore apart and burned a cargo ship, threw thirty kegs of nails into Belfast Lough, and shot the Dark Mark into the sky- amateurish, don't you think? They didn't even hurt anyone, except themselves- one of them got a splinter from the wreckage of the cargo ship. If Voldemort's trying to train fools like these, we won't even have to do anything at all, they'll just accidentally destroy themselves on their own."
"Voldemort probably had no part in that," said Bella. "One, he'd cut off his own head before he'd let neophytes into his elite Death Eater circle; and two, he's been too busy here in England killing Ministry employees to worry about shipyard rebels in Belfast."
"The pranks haven't stopped?"
"No. And I know they're not being done from a distance, they're being done personally. And I know who's doing it- at least, who may be part of the prankster task force." Bella was furiously dismantling an éclair. "She sawed the legs off my chair, for heaven's sake! Does she think I'm stupid enough not to recognize her mark, her needless sadism, when I see it? That I need a reminder of the day that the world fell out from under me?"
She dropped the éclair on her plate and wiped her fingers on her napkin. "She knows where my office is. She knows where my classroom is. They're getting to know the castle better and better, and we never even see them. How is that wretched girl besting me?"
"Maldora Lestrange?" Sirius asked. He was more than slightly bothered by Bella's seemingly non-sequitur remarks.
"Yes, her. The black half of Solange."
Sirius was quite bewildered by now. "What does Solange have to do with this?"
"So you don't know yet? I can tell you. It doesn't matter anymore. Eventually the temptation to ruin me will overcome her and she will denounce me to the world, however she may look afterwards in the eyes of her peers."
He didn't understand. "Solange died a long time ago."
"No, Black, she did not. She faked her own death and eloped with Derrick Lestrange, and changed her name to Maldora Lestrange."
Sirius' jaw dropped. "Maldora Lestrange? No. That's completely inconceivable. I refuse to believe that a child of yours grew up like- that."
"Thank you so much for reminding me once again what a terrible mother I was," Bella snapped, mistaking his disbelief for sarcasm.
"That's not what I meant," Sirius said soothingly. He was still struggling with the bombshell that had just been dropped on him- Maldora Lestrange was Solange Figg? Now that he knew, it was incredible that he hadn't seen the similarities before. "I meant it as flattery. Look at Ignacio and Phyllida, they turned out to be exceptional adults, didn't they? Famous and greatly respected the whole world over. And Maldora- well, she became infamous and greatly feared the whole world over, but there's a bad egg in every dozen, isn't there?"
"Even rotten eggs don't join fanatical anti-Muggle cults and kill people for fun," answered Bella. She exhaled angrily. "That's why I almost said no when the Potters asked me to be their son's godmother."
"You could have raised Harry after Lily and James died and I went to Azkaban," Sirius said. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I couldn't," whispered Arabella. Tears glimmered in her eyes. "I couldn't take him in. What if he had turned out like-" She bit off the last word, the name of her bane, and quietly wiped away her tears. "It's better this way."
"No, Bella, don't you know him? Harry's only ever wanted his parents, Lily and James. Failing that, he wanted a loving guardian and a real home. He wanted someone to write to and to miss while he was here. The Dursleys treat him like a slave."
"I know," Bella said in a low voice.
"He used to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs-"
"I know!" Bella said sharply. "I know that!"
"Then why didn't you do anything?" Sirius shouted. "You had fourteen years to help him. Now he's-"
"He's fine!" Bella cried. "Everything turned out all right."
"But you had no part in it," Sirius said, lowering his voice as he got his temper back under control. "When I got out of Azkaban and found Harry, I did all that I could to help him be happy. I did everything that James would have done for his son."
"So you're saying I should have behaved exactly as Lily Potter would have?" Bella said angrily.
"Yes!" Sirius knew this was the wrong answer the moment the syllable left his lips. "I mean, no, not exactly as-"
Bella leaped to her feet. "You don't understand, you don't understand! You don't know what it's like to have children! To see, to touch, to talk to this real thing that began its existence inside of you. To have shared your life force with a human that you bore- and then to have this person, this human who used to be yours, suddenly change to the point where you utterly separate. You don't know each other anymore, you disown each other. Once she was mine, and then she changed and she was gone- and I never understood what I had done."
Now it was all out on the table, the truth of the long-standing inner turmoil of Arabella Figg. Sirius Black's head was spinning. Slowly he reached out and took her trembling hand.
"It wasn't your fault," he said quietly. "Bella, it was not your fault. You may have brought Solange into the world and raised her to live in it, but in the end, she was the one who made her own choices. Not you."
"But as her mother, didn't I have some effect on her judgment?" Bella demanded. "It all came down to one last choice: me or Voldemort. And she chose Voldemort."
"You don't know that," began Sirius, but Bella cried, "Don't I? My husband Faustus was my first and last love. Solange knew that. She knew that we loved each other so much that to kill one would be like killing the other too. And she targeted me first. If I hadn't been as sharp as I was, if I had let my pain and sorrow at being betrayed by my own daughter overwhelm me, she would have killed me. But Faustus- he saw my pain. It- it sounds stupid to say it, but I've only ever wanted Solange to come home to me, to turn back into the sweet, beautiful little girl I thought I had; and Faustus knew what I felt.
"That's why he went after Solange- or Maldora, as she was called after she changed. Not for vengeance, as everyone, including you, may have believed. He tracked her down to ask her to come home. If she had left Derrick Lestrange and Voldemort then, I would have welcomed her home with open arms, taken her back into the family and defended her with all my might, from Voldemort and from the world at large.
"That, Black, was her choice. She could have said yes and come home, and ended the whole thing- including the war with Lord Voldemort. You know how crucial she was to Voldemort- if she'd left, the Death Eaters might have fallen apart, and the war would have been over. If only she had loved me a little more. As it was, she didn't. She chose instead to say no, she was perfectly happy with Voldemort and Lestrange. But she couldn't have let Faustus come back to Britain and tell me himself. She wanted to kill me, but now she had the next best thing, pleading to her on his knees. So she killed him! She killed her own father, and in doing so she killed her mother. The Ministry said that Derrick did it, but I know it was Solange. She wanted to kill me from the start and she succeeded. My heart died when I found Faustus' body in a casket on the front steps."
Sirius also had tears in his eyes. "Oh, Bella..."
Arabella Figg stared at him. "I'm the walking dead. I'm a puppet on a string being controlled by a million different people- Fudge, Dumbledore, Minerva, Potter, and now Solange again, but I've been dead for ten years. I feel only what people want me to feel, what will make them happy to see. But no one understands. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Oh yes- Potter. You see now, don't you, Black? I twist and warp and kill the things I love. It's taken me years to realize, but it's true. I said yes to the Potters about being their son's godmother because I loved them, but look what happened to them. And I love the boy so terribly much that I can't hurt him by admitting it- to him or to me."
She burst into tears and sank into her chair, and sobbed like a child on Sirius' shoulder.
"Bella, it's all right, it's all right," Sirius whispered gently.
"It's not all right, it will never be all right," Bella sobbed.
"He already knows," Sirius said without meaning to, and Bella looked up so quickly that her tightly bound chignon nearly hit Sirius in the nose.
"He knows? You told him?"
"I'm sorry!" said Sirius. "I didn't know that you didn't want him to know! But now he does, and he's hurt that you hid it from him all these years, never showing a sign of affection. He's confused because he feels that you withheld your love and your magic from him for his whole life, and until two minutes ago so was I. I won't pretend to be able to understand you like Faustus could, but now I do understand, Bella, at least partly. There are things that you yourself understand but won't accept. Solange did die, Bella. Only afterwards was Maldora, a completely separate person, born, and she did was for herself, not for you.
"Solange's ultimate choice was between staying herself and killing her identity to give life to Maldora's. But what you forgot after raising three children is that at one point they must decide for themselves, and at that moment your will has no part in that decision."
Arabella Figg was crying again. Sirius pressed on. "Bella, there are some things in this world that you can't change; but there are also some things you can. And I tell you that now Harry knows you are his godmother. What are you going to do about it?"
Bella wiped her eyes. "Tell him I love him, I suppose. But I don't know how. With Ig, Phyllida, and Solange, it was easy- they really were mine, even if, as you say, their individual volition did not come from me or Faustus. But Harry Potter isn't my son."
"But you remember how to love," Sirius said. "Maldora can't have killed that part of you. Remus Lupin said you enjoyed having Potter with you this summer."
Bella smiled. "Yes. Potter is so old, and yet still such a child- it was like- like-" She looked at Sirius in surprise. "Like waking after years of slumber. Being reintroduced to life. Being reborn, in a way." She clutched Sirius' hand tightly, imploring, "I can keep him with me, can't I, Black? Give him a place in my home? I'll raise him as my own. You needn't worry about him ever again. Raising another child- he'll help me live."
Sirius nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again. Finally he had helped her.
"Maybe I'm not dead after all," Bella said in wonderment.
* * * * *
After careful searching, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to get Dean Thomas a Mirror of Eyesores, which magically disfigured any reflection to create the most horrendous likeness imaginable. Harry looked in and half- screamed, because he saw his green eyes made huge behind unflatteringly thick glasses, his skin covered in boils, and his mouth gawping in an unbecoming way. "Dean'll love it!" Ron exclaimed, seeing Harry's horrified expression.
By the time they got back to the school around four-thirty, Sirius Black was gone. But when they passed by Professor Figg's office she called through the open door to Harry.
"Potter, would you come in for a minute?"
Harry immediately left Ron and Hermione and entered her office "Yes, Professor?"
She was sitting at her desk, looking placid. The tea things had vanished back to the kitchen that Bella had conjured them from. Her tears had long dried and her icy blue eyes were impossible to read. "Close the door, Potter, and sit down."
Harry sat, feeling apprehensive. Was she going to rebuke him for another poor essay? He didn't think so. These past few weeks he had been working harder than ever before, and was now at the top of most of his classes.
She wasted no time, because she knew if she tarried she would lose her nerve. "Potter, I'm sorry that I never told you this before, but you are my godson."
Then she held her breath. It was the moment of truth. Now she would know whether Harry was worth taking in. If he feigned surprise she would know he was too manipulative, too sly, too much like Solange had been when she was his age. Sirius Black had known how bad Solange was, and he had clearly thought it prudent to not mention it to Bella; but Bella knew. She had always known, but she had been willing to overlook Solange's iniquities. She had only been pretending to have believed she'd lost a good, perfect daughter in Solange. But if Potter lied now, it would be proven that his nature was like Solange's, too cunning and calculating for Bella or anyone to control.
But Potter did not disappoint her. "I know." He was apologetic. She let out her breath. "Sirius told me a long time ago. I'm sorry that I never told you that I knew."
"No, it was entirely my fault. I've wronged many people in my life, but you most of all. You must feel cheated and deceived, and you're right to feel that way. But I want to make it up to you."
She produced a thick white envelope and pushed it across the desk to Harry. He took it, slowly, and opened it.
Inside was a sheaf of papers filled with minute print and each bearing a blank line at the bottom. "Title Deed: 47 Lethean Court," he read at the top of the first page. Arabella Figg's name was sprinkled across the papers and a few sheets near the back contained his name as well. "What is this?"
"The deed to a house in Hogsmeade," Professor Figg said softly. "A house that I want to buy. There's a beautiful little backyard with a garden and a birdbath, and one outer wall is covered in ivy, and it has a kitchen and a fireplace and- and- two bedrooms."
Harry stared at her, slowly realizing what she was saying. "Two?" he whispered, hardly believing that this was happening. He was dreaming.
Arabella Figg nodded. "One for me, and one for you, if you want."
Harry smiled suddenly. It was real! "Yes- please."
Then Arabella Figg smiled too, and stood up and came round the desk to hug him like she had at his surprise birthday party in July. Before she embraced him Harry thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her dark blue eyes. Then he hugged his godmother, his guardian.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle, Draco Malfoy was walking through an empty hall in the new Charms wing. With a furtive glance in both directions, he opened the door to a darkened classroom, where a small figure was perched on a desk, impatiently making green sparks with her wand.
"You're late," she said flatly when Malfoy slipped through the door.
"Peeves was making trouble in the dungeons and I had to come by another way." He caught himself sounding apologetic and put his trademark swaggering tone back in his voice. "What do I care that you were left waiting? And why am I helping you anyway?"
"Because it maddens you to see the two of them together, my Ron and that Mudblood," the little witch answered. "Now listen closely because I'm in a hurry, I'm supposed to be meeting Catriona Zabini in the library at ten- thirty."
"What d'you want then?" Malfoy said, annoyed. "I did well at at Christmas, didn't I? They were furious at each other for weeks. You had almost a four-week window and you couldn't even do your part. Now they're back together, thick as thieves, always laughing and smiling at each other."
"It's nauseating," agreed the girl. "But I can do it, Draco, I really can. I only need an opportunity."
"I gave you the opportunity you asked for at Christmas," Malfoy snapped, but relented seeing the imploring look on her face. All carefully calculated, of course, but Malfoy didn't know how smart she was. "All right, I'll help you again."
"I want to get him something for Valentine's Day," said the girl. "Something big, and maybe expensive."
Ordinaryily now would have been the time for Malfoy to make a snide remark about Ron being poor and unworthy of expensive gifts, but he was distracted by the mention of Valentine's Day. That detestable Pansy Parkinson was planning something for Valentine's Day and Malfoy was dreading February 14th. He dragged himself back with effort to the situation at hand. "I don't know what you can get him."
"Well, what would you want a Secret Admirer to give you?"
If I had one at all, I'd want her to be brave enough to show her face, Malfoy thought. Aloud he said, "I want nothing. I already have everything I want." Not true, sniggered a little voice in the back of his head, but he ignored it with effort.
The girl pulled a pink velvet journal from her schoolbag and leafed through it. "Let me see, where did he mention gifts? I think it was just before Christmas-"
"Ugh! Do you really keep a journal of everything he says and does?" Malfoy asked, disgusted. "You're not an admirer, you're a stalker! How vile."
"Vile!" exclaimed the girl.
"And cowardly," Malfoy said before he could check himself.
"Cowardly!" echoed the girl, outraged. "You're calling me cowardly? You, who can't even face Harry Potter for fear that he'll show you up once again?"
That stung Malfoy, but he didn't show it. "This isn't about me. You're the one who hasn't the pluck to tell some idiotic plebeian that you fancy him. You girls, you always have to play games! Why can't you ever tell us anything straight out?"
"I'm shy!" cried Ron's Secret Admirer angrily. "At least I'm not afraid of some half-blood boy wonder!"
"Suddenly you're on my side then?" said Malfoy. "I thought you were pro- Potter, one of Baddock's adherents."
"I'm not," lied the girl. "What have you got against Malcolm anyways?
"He loves Scarhead so much he's practically joined his fan club," Malfoy said bitterly. "My own cousin, betraying my pureblood family like this!"
"Harry Potter saved Malcolm's life. Is it so terrible to want to honour a life-debt to someone?"
"Potter can't go two bloody days without making himself a hero," cried Malfoy. "It's not a question of life-debts, it's a question of Potter hogging the limelight. I want to take that half-blood down a peg, and your precious Weasley too."
"You'll never succeed," the girl said boldly, but inside she was worried. Malfoy quite embodied the Slytherin principles. He was quite clever and very ambitious. She had known him long enough to understand that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And so would she, she realized. It came down to a battle of will between her and Malfoy, then. Nice as Potter was, she didn't much care for him; but she definitely didn't want Malfoy to hurt Ron. "Where would you even start?"
Malfoy shrugged. She noticed he was fingering his wand. "My father taught me a lot of good hexes this summer." He laughed, and she shuddered. Then Malfoy smiled slowly. "I know what you can give Weasley for Valentine's Day."
* * * * *
Harry burst through the portrait hole into Gryffindor common room. "Guess who's being adopted!" He stopped short, seeing Hermione and Ron sitting close together by the fireplace. They jumped apart with guilty looks when he barrelled in.
"Sorry, Harry, what did you say?" Hermione said, flushed. Ron's ears were red.
"Er- I said I was looking for Seamus Finnigan," Harry stammered, and backed out the portrait hole quickly. He didn't start grinning until he was out in the hall.
Bright as he was, Harry did not guess this. He was no Auror, and no anti- Voldemort strategist either; instead he had placed his faith in those people who were those things, and believed them responsible for the dwindling of his nightmares. His opinion of the Order of the Phoenix increased, from an already high level of esteem.
One Hogsmeade weekend, Harry, Ron and Hermione were going to Zonko's Joke Shop to buy a present for Dean Thomas, whose birthday was coming up. Zonko's had suffered a lot of damage at Halloween. The Hungarian Horntail that had been unleashed on Hogsmeade had begun its rampage near Zonko's, which had been engulfed in flames. The whole shop had burned to the ground before its owner could reach it. It had soon been rebuilt in the near- exact image of its former self, but like all the reconstructed buildings in the village, the slight differences were enough to stab the hearts of visitors.
The dragon, incidentally, had been found. After using it for their getaway, the two Death Eaters riding it had released the poor Hungarian Horntail into the wild. A team of expert dragon keepers, including Charlie Weasley, had been dispatched by the robbed Swedish colony immediately following the theft to find the beast. In the end it had not been Charlie or any member of his team who had located the dragon, but a royal hunting party, at the end of January. A certain prince had entered a small bear cave on his property that happened to be occupied at that moment by the Horntail, and he had had a rather nasty surprise on being greeted by a giant column of flame. After hearing his scream, which surely was heard in a three-kilometre radius, the dragon keepers had had little trouble finding the Horntail. Charlie had written to Ron, remarking, "Now I'm one of the few wizards in Britain who've had the privilege of Obliviating the memory of a Royal."
"Do you think Dean wants a Screaming Yo-Yo?" Harry asked. "Neville accidentally broke Dean's blue one last week. But at least now we've figured out that when you feed a Screaming Yo-Yo to a toad and then try bouncing him, he'll keep screaming."
"We should get Dean a Fanged Frisbee," Ron said confidently.
"Did he tell you he wants one?" Hermione asked him.
"No... but I want a Fanged Frisbee, and I know Dean would let us play with his if he had one."
"Look," Harry exclaimed, "Zonko's has April Fools' Day jokes on display two months early!" They broke into a run and rushed into the joke shop.
A minute after they entered Zonko's, a shaggy black dog peered out from behind a trash bin by the post office. Seeing the three Gryffindors were gone, he trotted off towards Hogwarts castle.
Arabella Figg met him at the gate. "Come, Snuffles," she said.
The witch and the dog walked into the school and climbed the stairs to Professor Figg's office on the second floor. Professor Figg locked the door and turned to the dog. "Coast's clear, Black."
The dog barked gruffly and transformed into a man with long black hair. He was clean-shaven and healthy-looking. He looked round the office, a warm little room with photographs of Bella Figg's family, friends and former students liberally strewn all over the walls. Sixteen-year-old Sirius Black grinned and waved at his future self from a picture by the door. Looking at his photo, Sirius felt old. He turned round and smiled at the tea tray on Professor Figg's desk.
"Are those scones for me?"
"Of course they are," said Bella Figg. ""We haven't had tea together in ages."
They sat at her desk and ate the scones and sipped tea.
"You're looking well, Black," said Bella. "Not scrounging for scraps in rubbish bins anymore?"
Sirius shuddered. "Next time I go into hiding, I'm choosing a place with less rats and more rabbits. I've been travelling with Lupin. He's not been completely defamed yet, so he doesn't need to change into a dog to get food and supplies."
"Where did you go?"
"Mostly round Northern Ireland, investigating suspected Death Eaters. We seized three Death Eater-aspirants during a riot in a shipyard in Carrickfergus. Listen to what they thought would help their master: they tore apart and burned a cargo ship, threw thirty kegs of nails into Belfast Lough, and shot the Dark Mark into the sky- amateurish, don't you think? They didn't even hurt anyone, except themselves- one of them got a splinter from the wreckage of the cargo ship. If Voldemort's trying to train fools like these, we won't even have to do anything at all, they'll just accidentally destroy themselves on their own."
"Voldemort probably had no part in that," said Bella. "One, he'd cut off his own head before he'd let neophytes into his elite Death Eater circle; and two, he's been too busy here in England killing Ministry employees to worry about shipyard rebels in Belfast."
"The pranks haven't stopped?"
"No. And I know they're not being done from a distance, they're being done personally. And I know who's doing it- at least, who may be part of the prankster task force." Bella was furiously dismantling an éclair. "She sawed the legs off my chair, for heaven's sake! Does she think I'm stupid enough not to recognize her mark, her needless sadism, when I see it? That I need a reminder of the day that the world fell out from under me?"
She dropped the éclair on her plate and wiped her fingers on her napkin. "She knows where my office is. She knows where my classroom is. They're getting to know the castle better and better, and we never even see them. How is that wretched girl besting me?"
"Maldora Lestrange?" Sirius asked. He was more than slightly bothered by Bella's seemingly non-sequitur remarks.
"Yes, her. The black half of Solange."
Sirius was quite bewildered by now. "What does Solange have to do with this?"
"So you don't know yet? I can tell you. It doesn't matter anymore. Eventually the temptation to ruin me will overcome her and she will denounce me to the world, however she may look afterwards in the eyes of her peers."
He didn't understand. "Solange died a long time ago."
"No, Black, she did not. She faked her own death and eloped with Derrick Lestrange, and changed her name to Maldora Lestrange."
Sirius' jaw dropped. "Maldora Lestrange? No. That's completely inconceivable. I refuse to believe that a child of yours grew up like- that."
"Thank you so much for reminding me once again what a terrible mother I was," Bella snapped, mistaking his disbelief for sarcasm.
"That's not what I meant," Sirius said soothingly. He was still struggling with the bombshell that had just been dropped on him- Maldora Lestrange was Solange Figg? Now that he knew, it was incredible that he hadn't seen the similarities before. "I meant it as flattery. Look at Ignacio and Phyllida, they turned out to be exceptional adults, didn't they? Famous and greatly respected the whole world over. And Maldora- well, she became infamous and greatly feared the whole world over, but there's a bad egg in every dozen, isn't there?"
"Even rotten eggs don't join fanatical anti-Muggle cults and kill people for fun," answered Bella. She exhaled angrily. "That's why I almost said no when the Potters asked me to be their son's godmother."
"You could have raised Harry after Lily and James died and I went to Azkaban," Sirius said. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I couldn't," whispered Arabella. Tears glimmered in her eyes. "I couldn't take him in. What if he had turned out like-" She bit off the last word, the name of her bane, and quietly wiped away her tears. "It's better this way."
"No, Bella, don't you know him? Harry's only ever wanted his parents, Lily and James. Failing that, he wanted a loving guardian and a real home. He wanted someone to write to and to miss while he was here. The Dursleys treat him like a slave."
"I know," Bella said in a low voice.
"He used to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs-"
"I know!" Bella said sharply. "I know that!"
"Then why didn't you do anything?" Sirius shouted. "You had fourteen years to help him. Now he's-"
"He's fine!" Bella cried. "Everything turned out all right."
"But you had no part in it," Sirius said, lowering his voice as he got his temper back under control. "When I got out of Azkaban and found Harry, I did all that I could to help him be happy. I did everything that James would have done for his son."
"So you're saying I should have behaved exactly as Lily Potter would have?" Bella said angrily.
"Yes!" Sirius knew this was the wrong answer the moment the syllable left his lips. "I mean, no, not exactly as-"
Bella leaped to her feet. "You don't understand, you don't understand! You don't know what it's like to have children! To see, to touch, to talk to this real thing that began its existence inside of you. To have shared your life force with a human that you bore- and then to have this person, this human who used to be yours, suddenly change to the point where you utterly separate. You don't know each other anymore, you disown each other. Once she was mine, and then she changed and she was gone- and I never understood what I had done."
Now it was all out on the table, the truth of the long-standing inner turmoil of Arabella Figg. Sirius Black's head was spinning. Slowly he reached out and took her trembling hand.
"It wasn't your fault," he said quietly. "Bella, it was not your fault. You may have brought Solange into the world and raised her to live in it, but in the end, she was the one who made her own choices. Not you."
"But as her mother, didn't I have some effect on her judgment?" Bella demanded. "It all came down to one last choice: me or Voldemort. And she chose Voldemort."
"You don't know that," began Sirius, but Bella cried, "Don't I? My husband Faustus was my first and last love. Solange knew that. She knew that we loved each other so much that to kill one would be like killing the other too. And she targeted me first. If I hadn't been as sharp as I was, if I had let my pain and sorrow at being betrayed by my own daughter overwhelm me, she would have killed me. But Faustus- he saw my pain. It- it sounds stupid to say it, but I've only ever wanted Solange to come home to me, to turn back into the sweet, beautiful little girl I thought I had; and Faustus knew what I felt.
"That's why he went after Solange- or Maldora, as she was called after she changed. Not for vengeance, as everyone, including you, may have believed. He tracked her down to ask her to come home. If she had left Derrick Lestrange and Voldemort then, I would have welcomed her home with open arms, taken her back into the family and defended her with all my might, from Voldemort and from the world at large.
"That, Black, was her choice. She could have said yes and come home, and ended the whole thing- including the war with Lord Voldemort. You know how crucial she was to Voldemort- if she'd left, the Death Eaters might have fallen apart, and the war would have been over. If only she had loved me a little more. As it was, she didn't. She chose instead to say no, she was perfectly happy with Voldemort and Lestrange. But she couldn't have let Faustus come back to Britain and tell me himself. She wanted to kill me, but now she had the next best thing, pleading to her on his knees. So she killed him! She killed her own father, and in doing so she killed her mother. The Ministry said that Derrick did it, but I know it was Solange. She wanted to kill me from the start and she succeeded. My heart died when I found Faustus' body in a casket on the front steps."
Sirius also had tears in his eyes. "Oh, Bella..."
Arabella Figg stared at him. "I'm the walking dead. I'm a puppet on a string being controlled by a million different people- Fudge, Dumbledore, Minerva, Potter, and now Solange again, but I've been dead for ten years. I feel only what people want me to feel, what will make them happy to see. But no one understands. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Oh yes- Potter. You see now, don't you, Black? I twist and warp and kill the things I love. It's taken me years to realize, but it's true. I said yes to the Potters about being their son's godmother because I loved them, but look what happened to them. And I love the boy so terribly much that I can't hurt him by admitting it- to him or to me."
She burst into tears and sank into her chair, and sobbed like a child on Sirius' shoulder.
"Bella, it's all right, it's all right," Sirius whispered gently.
"It's not all right, it will never be all right," Bella sobbed.
"He already knows," Sirius said without meaning to, and Bella looked up so quickly that her tightly bound chignon nearly hit Sirius in the nose.
"He knows? You told him?"
"I'm sorry!" said Sirius. "I didn't know that you didn't want him to know! But now he does, and he's hurt that you hid it from him all these years, never showing a sign of affection. He's confused because he feels that you withheld your love and your magic from him for his whole life, and until two minutes ago so was I. I won't pretend to be able to understand you like Faustus could, but now I do understand, Bella, at least partly. There are things that you yourself understand but won't accept. Solange did die, Bella. Only afterwards was Maldora, a completely separate person, born, and she did was for herself, not for you.
"Solange's ultimate choice was between staying herself and killing her identity to give life to Maldora's. But what you forgot after raising three children is that at one point they must decide for themselves, and at that moment your will has no part in that decision."
Arabella Figg was crying again. Sirius pressed on. "Bella, there are some things in this world that you can't change; but there are also some things you can. And I tell you that now Harry knows you are his godmother. What are you going to do about it?"
Bella wiped her eyes. "Tell him I love him, I suppose. But I don't know how. With Ig, Phyllida, and Solange, it was easy- they really were mine, even if, as you say, their individual volition did not come from me or Faustus. But Harry Potter isn't my son."
"But you remember how to love," Sirius said. "Maldora can't have killed that part of you. Remus Lupin said you enjoyed having Potter with you this summer."
Bella smiled. "Yes. Potter is so old, and yet still such a child- it was like- like-" She looked at Sirius in surprise. "Like waking after years of slumber. Being reintroduced to life. Being reborn, in a way." She clutched Sirius' hand tightly, imploring, "I can keep him with me, can't I, Black? Give him a place in my home? I'll raise him as my own. You needn't worry about him ever again. Raising another child- he'll help me live."
Sirius nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again. Finally he had helped her.
"Maybe I'm not dead after all," Bella said in wonderment.
* * * * *
After careful searching, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to get Dean Thomas a Mirror of Eyesores, which magically disfigured any reflection to create the most horrendous likeness imaginable. Harry looked in and half- screamed, because he saw his green eyes made huge behind unflatteringly thick glasses, his skin covered in boils, and his mouth gawping in an unbecoming way. "Dean'll love it!" Ron exclaimed, seeing Harry's horrified expression.
By the time they got back to the school around four-thirty, Sirius Black was gone. But when they passed by Professor Figg's office she called through the open door to Harry.
"Potter, would you come in for a minute?"
Harry immediately left Ron and Hermione and entered her office "Yes, Professor?"
She was sitting at her desk, looking placid. The tea things had vanished back to the kitchen that Bella had conjured them from. Her tears had long dried and her icy blue eyes were impossible to read. "Close the door, Potter, and sit down."
Harry sat, feeling apprehensive. Was she going to rebuke him for another poor essay? He didn't think so. These past few weeks he had been working harder than ever before, and was now at the top of most of his classes.
She wasted no time, because she knew if she tarried she would lose her nerve. "Potter, I'm sorry that I never told you this before, but you are my godson."
Then she held her breath. It was the moment of truth. Now she would know whether Harry was worth taking in. If he feigned surprise she would know he was too manipulative, too sly, too much like Solange had been when she was his age. Sirius Black had known how bad Solange was, and he had clearly thought it prudent to not mention it to Bella; but Bella knew. She had always known, but she had been willing to overlook Solange's iniquities. She had only been pretending to have believed she'd lost a good, perfect daughter in Solange. But if Potter lied now, it would be proven that his nature was like Solange's, too cunning and calculating for Bella or anyone to control.
But Potter did not disappoint her. "I know." He was apologetic. She let out her breath. "Sirius told me a long time ago. I'm sorry that I never told you that I knew."
"No, it was entirely my fault. I've wronged many people in my life, but you most of all. You must feel cheated and deceived, and you're right to feel that way. But I want to make it up to you."
She produced a thick white envelope and pushed it across the desk to Harry. He took it, slowly, and opened it.
Inside was a sheaf of papers filled with minute print and each bearing a blank line at the bottom. "Title Deed: 47 Lethean Court," he read at the top of the first page. Arabella Figg's name was sprinkled across the papers and a few sheets near the back contained his name as well. "What is this?"
"The deed to a house in Hogsmeade," Professor Figg said softly. "A house that I want to buy. There's a beautiful little backyard with a garden and a birdbath, and one outer wall is covered in ivy, and it has a kitchen and a fireplace and- and- two bedrooms."
Harry stared at her, slowly realizing what she was saying. "Two?" he whispered, hardly believing that this was happening. He was dreaming.
Arabella Figg nodded. "One for me, and one for you, if you want."
Harry smiled suddenly. It was real! "Yes- please."
Then Arabella Figg smiled too, and stood up and came round the desk to hug him like she had at his surprise birthday party in July. Before she embraced him Harry thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her dark blue eyes. Then he hugged his godmother, his guardian.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle, Draco Malfoy was walking through an empty hall in the new Charms wing. With a furtive glance in both directions, he opened the door to a darkened classroom, where a small figure was perched on a desk, impatiently making green sparks with her wand.
"You're late," she said flatly when Malfoy slipped through the door.
"Peeves was making trouble in the dungeons and I had to come by another way." He caught himself sounding apologetic and put his trademark swaggering tone back in his voice. "What do I care that you were left waiting? And why am I helping you anyway?"
"Because it maddens you to see the two of them together, my Ron and that Mudblood," the little witch answered. "Now listen closely because I'm in a hurry, I'm supposed to be meeting Catriona Zabini in the library at ten- thirty."
"What d'you want then?" Malfoy said, annoyed. "I did well at at Christmas, didn't I? They were furious at each other for weeks. You had almost a four-week window and you couldn't even do your part. Now they're back together, thick as thieves, always laughing and smiling at each other."
"It's nauseating," agreed the girl. "But I can do it, Draco, I really can. I only need an opportunity."
"I gave you the opportunity you asked for at Christmas," Malfoy snapped, but relented seeing the imploring look on her face. All carefully calculated, of course, but Malfoy didn't know how smart she was. "All right, I'll help you again."
"I want to get him something for Valentine's Day," said the girl. "Something big, and maybe expensive."
Ordinaryily now would have been the time for Malfoy to make a snide remark about Ron being poor and unworthy of expensive gifts, but he was distracted by the mention of Valentine's Day. That detestable Pansy Parkinson was planning something for Valentine's Day and Malfoy was dreading February 14th. He dragged himself back with effort to the situation at hand. "I don't know what you can get him."
"Well, what would you want a Secret Admirer to give you?"
If I had one at all, I'd want her to be brave enough to show her face, Malfoy thought. Aloud he said, "I want nothing. I already have everything I want." Not true, sniggered a little voice in the back of his head, but he ignored it with effort.
The girl pulled a pink velvet journal from her schoolbag and leafed through it. "Let me see, where did he mention gifts? I think it was just before Christmas-"
"Ugh! Do you really keep a journal of everything he says and does?" Malfoy asked, disgusted. "You're not an admirer, you're a stalker! How vile."
"Vile!" exclaimed the girl.
"And cowardly," Malfoy said before he could check himself.
"Cowardly!" echoed the girl, outraged. "You're calling me cowardly? You, who can't even face Harry Potter for fear that he'll show you up once again?"
That stung Malfoy, but he didn't show it. "This isn't about me. You're the one who hasn't the pluck to tell some idiotic plebeian that you fancy him. You girls, you always have to play games! Why can't you ever tell us anything straight out?"
"I'm shy!" cried Ron's Secret Admirer angrily. "At least I'm not afraid of some half-blood boy wonder!"
"Suddenly you're on my side then?" said Malfoy. "I thought you were pro- Potter, one of Baddock's adherents."
"I'm not," lied the girl. "What have you got against Malcolm anyways?
"He loves Scarhead so much he's practically joined his fan club," Malfoy said bitterly. "My own cousin, betraying my pureblood family like this!"
"Harry Potter saved Malcolm's life. Is it so terrible to want to honour a life-debt to someone?"
"Potter can't go two bloody days without making himself a hero," cried Malfoy. "It's not a question of life-debts, it's a question of Potter hogging the limelight. I want to take that half-blood down a peg, and your precious Weasley too."
"You'll never succeed," the girl said boldly, but inside she was worried. Malfoy quite embodied the Slytherin principles. He was quite clever and very ambitious. She had known him long enough to understand that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And so would she, she realized. It came down to a battle of will between her and Malfoy, then. Nice as Potter was, she didn't much care for him; but she definitely didn't want Malfoy to hurt Ron. "Where would you even start?"
Malfoy shrugged. She noticed he was fingering his wand. "My father taught me a lot of good hexes this summer." He laughed, and she shuddered. Then Malfoy smiled slowly. "I know what you can give Weasley for Valentine's Day."
* * * * *
Harry burst through the portrait hole into Gryffindor common room. "Guess who's being adopted!" He stopped short, seeing Hermione and Ron sitting close together by the fireplace. They jumped apart with guilty looks when he barrelled in.
"Sorry, Harry, what did you say?" Hermione said, flushed. Ron's ears were red.
"Er- I said I was looking for Seamus Finnigan," Harry stammered, and backed out the portrait hole quickly. He didn't start grinning until he was out in the hall.
