The day had passed quite uneventfully, Sirius thought. His mother had enquired about Regulus's marks and, quite surprisingly, about his own, meaning that she was in a good, presumably chatty mood. No wonder, of course, as the annual Christmas dinner was approaching and it seemed that, once again, a large number of family members would be taking part. The Lestranges were off abroad this year, as it seemed, but great-uncle Ferdinant would be coming, and several of the Longbottom family, having made up their old feud with the Malfoys earlier this year.
All in all, Sirius thought, the beginning of the holidays had not been half as stressful as the last, meaning he had seen his useless brother not half as often as expected. Also, his mother had been in a considerably good mood for days, and his father was off to M'bwa until later this day.
Sirius considered himself content. He had cleaned the attic, caught Kreacher fooling around and locked him in for it. After that he had collected a few potions ingredients from the kitchen and finished the first part of his homework for Professor Robertson. Then, when the sun had set and he heard his mother starting to uncork the wine, he finally made his way downstairs to welcome any guests who might be one or two hours early - which happened often enough.
The first to arrive, his robes as red as the jet of flame that brought him into the dimly lit living-room of Grimmauld Place number twelve, was Cardinal Ferdinant M. Figg, Sirius's great-great-uncle, always referred to as either 'the good Cardinal' or very simply 'great-uncle Ferdinant'. Sirius had never liked the dark-haired, grim-looking wizard much, who was officially employed for the Christian church of South Africa, but unofficially worked as a spy for the wizarding army and, incidentally, was one of the most well-paid wizards of his time. Sirius did not like well-paid men. Especially when they let everyone know that they were.
'It has been a long time, Sirius.'
'Yes, great-uncle.'
'You been well recently?'
'Yes, sir.'
Great-uncle Ferdinant surveyed Sirius through a pair of narrow spectacles and then nodded, not quite sure, it seemed, whether to aim his gaze above or underneath their gold brim towards Sirius.
'And your mother, I presume? I know about your father, of course. He will join us momentarily. But I have not seen your mother for weeks, which is always regrettable, of course.'
Sirius shrugged. His great-uncle made a point of surveying him even more.
'You have grown. You look a lot more like your father than you used to. - Uhm... you have been sorted into Gryffindor, I hear?'
'Not my fault!' said Sirius quickly, knowing that everything else would get him into trouble. Great-uncle Ferdinant nodded.
'Of course not. And the important thing is attitude, after all, isn't it? What are you planning to do when you grow up?'
'Err...' Sirius could not say with honesty that he had wasted much thought on the matter yet, but he assumed his uncle was aiming at a specific topic anyway, so he said after a moment's consideration, 'I am not joining the army.'
'Pity,' said the Cardinal curtly. 'It seems the only thing to do for a young man of your heritage. What makes you think your father will exempt you?'
Sirius remained silent. He knew that most wizards of a certain age went off to do the basic tryouts for the wizarding army, to become soldiers or Aurors later on, but it just did not seem to be the thing to do for him. And he knew that he would not let himself be forced to join.
'I would much rather go into academic research,' he therefore said vaguely, not sure whether the course he had taken was the best so shortly before all grown-ups of his family gathered for a meeting with the only purpose of spreading gossip. 'I might consider a career in Potions.'
His great-uncle frowned. Sirius grinned. He had hit a nerve.
'You like Potions, then?'
No, thought Sirius, it is boring and useless. Not even real magic. Just a bit of cookery with the pretence of being a magical discipline. Its only advantage is that my whole family seems to loathe it for some reason or the other.
'Yes,' he said. 'It is an excellent subject.'
'You might want to revise this view,' said great-uncle Ferdinant sternly, 'but you have another few years left, of course. Now... where are the others? Why isn't anyone here yet?'
'You are several minutes earl-' Sirius made to say, but at that moment the fireplace lit for a second time and a number of people entered the room, looking around curiously as at least the younger of them had never entered this house before. Sirius resolved that this had to be Lucilius Longbottom with his wife and several of their children and relatives.
'Great-uncle Ferdinant!'
The good thing about great-uncle Ferdinant, Sirius resolved, was that he drew all attention towards him like a Muggle in Diagon Alley. Everyone wanted to talk to him, to be talked to by him, or, if nothing else, to be acknowledged in his presence. Sirius had enough time to back away against the Christmas tree his parents had set up once again near the fireplace and was suddenly facing a buckle of a size that told him that there was only one person in this world big enough to wear such a thing.
'Uncle.'
'Sirius.'
'I... I'll fetch mother, shall I?'
'Acceptable suggestion. Where is your father?'
'Still down in M'bwa, uncle.' He frowned. 'How come you don't know?'
'M'bwa is of considerable size,' said his uncle simply. 'I have not had to do with the lads from the west end for a while.'
'I... I see.'
Sirius realised that he did not feel comfortable talking to Lance Snape, even knowing that the latter could not possibly be in a bad mood on Christmas Eve. However, the soldier's stern face, the facial colour of his wife and something in his son's expression told Sirius that fetching his mother at this specific moment would be a very wise thing to do.
It was not much later when all the family was gathering around the large table next to the Christmas tree to have their first round of Black wine. Sirius had managed to take a good look around and at the guests, finding that of the Malfoys only Lucius's father Marius had turned up, that his cousin Andromeda seemed to be missing, and that there were far too many Longbottoms in this room for his taste.
'Gladia, your wine is excellent as usual,' said Sirius's uncle Mercurius when there had been a solemn silence for a while. 'I keep looking forward to this day only to taste it.'
'Thank you,' said Sirius's mother, giving him a thin smile. 'I shall bear that in mind.'
Marius Malfoy grinned.
'Another year over,' he said, gazing into the black liquid before him. 'And I have not even seen it pass. How about you all? Doesn't time increase its pace as the summers pass and your hair starts getting grey?'
'Marius,' said Sirius's father with a pointed look at his cousin's jar, 'are you drunk before the evening has even started?'
'Ah,' said Marius, 'so it seems, doesn't it? But I merely feel it is time to remember the old times. To talk about what was and never will be again.'
'I start getting an idea as to why your family preferred to stay away this year,' said Gladia coldly, helping herself to more wine. 'You really sound as if you ought to have yourself checked.'
Lucilius Longbottom gave a short cough that sounded like suppressed laughter. Sirius grinned, but stopped quickly again. Today's mood was not at all what he was used to from family gatherings. People were more quiet. More solemn. He exchanged a look with his cousin Bellatrix who was wearing a gloomy, bored expression and kept avoiding everyone's gaze.
'Your son,' great-uncle Ferdinant said eventually, looking at Sirius's father, who turned his head to Regulus instinctively, 'has just informed me that he is not willing to take the basic training.'
Sirius closed his eyes briefly. His father's gaze (and everyone else's, really) fell upon him at once.
'Has he, now?'
'Great-uncle, please,' said Sirius quietly. 'What does it matter?'
'That's right,' said his father cheerfully. 'What does it matter what Sirius wants or not? It is not a question, is it?'
'It shouldn't be,' growled Sirius's uncle Lance, causing the good Cardinal to nod in agreement.
'What makes you think you'll have a say in that, Sirius?' asked his aunt Gaia interestedly. 'It's traditional, isn't it? Everyone's doing the basic training, regardless of whether they intend to fully join later on.'
'Is Severus going to?' requested Gladia, giving her brother Lance a curious look.
The soldier's gaze darkened. 'As I say,' he growled, 'it should not be a question.'
'Ah, but it is,' appeared his wife's small voice from behind him where Sirius could not see her. 'Less and less people find it necessary to send their sons to M'bwa between their fifth and sixth year of school. They are getting a thorough academic education at Hogwarts, after all. What would they need the basic training for?'
Lance stared at her with an obvious air of surprise and slight anger about him.
'Virbia,' he said after a while. 'We are talking about the army here.'
'Well,' said his wife, a slight smile playing around her pale lips, 'I would have preferred you staying in London in the early years. The army does not only have advantages, you know.'
Several people smiled. The way Mrs. Snape pointed out the obvious without consideration of what people might think about it found admiration among her listeners, just as often as it caused offence.
Sirius was just considering whether Virbia had passed her ability of picking the worst possible enemy by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time on to her son, when Lucilius Longbottom cleared his throat and placed his glass on the table for everyone to note.
'Personally,' he said, 'I agree with Sirius. It should be his decision what he wants to do with his future. And if he wants to go into research, I do not see what should be so wrong about that.'
'Research?' snapped Sirius's mother sharply. 'What kind of research?'
Sirius closed his eyes again and waited. Taking great-uncle Ferdinant on a ride had been entertaining enough, but his parents... and the whole rest of the family... all at the same time... this was quite a different matter. He opened one eye again and saw Severus Snape throw a derisive grin at him. A painfully familiar, hot anger rose inside him and before he could help himself he had opened both eyes again, looked straight into his father's eyes and said: 'Potions.'
With a jolt of satisfaction he saw everyone's jaw drop (including Snape's - both Snapes', in fact, were looking at him as if he had just announced his girlfriend's pregnancy).
'Potions?'
'Not really!'
'As if!'
The last had been Snape. Sirius rounded on him, threw him a derisive look up and down and said: 'You are quite cheeky for someone with your flying abilities claiming to be trying out for the army in a few years' time.'
The younger Snape's face flushed. His father shot Sirius a look that sent a shiver down his spine and slowly put down his glass.
'Careful,' his gaze seemed to say, and Sirius was. He knew that of all the people in the room Lance Snape was the last he would want to insult, even with his parents and a handful of other people close by.
'I am sorry,' he said dutifully, knowing that an apology would not make his last remark unsaid.
His uncle nodded.
'Let's not talk about such serious things, shall we?' said Sirius's aunt Gaia carefully after a while. 'How about... how about discussing...'
'The political situation,' said Bellatrix helpfully, earning herself some very surprised looks. 'It requires discussion, don't you think? Or rather - it requires some action. Some action from all of you!'
'Bellatrix,' hissed her father Mercurius quickly, refilling everyone's glass with a wave of his hand. 'We have been talking about... stable rounds, haven't we? This is not the time...'
Sirius noticed a small, but unmistakable side-glance at the Longbottoms, but Bellatrix seemed to have missed it - or she was simply ignoring the hint.
'I do not care about stability,' she snapped. 'I do not care about what you think ought to be said or not. I am sick and tired of everyone's habit of meeting once or twice a year to talk things over and leave it at that. There is things you cannot talk away. And the present situation requires us to leap into action against the course the ministry is taking. We have,' she leaned over the table just slightly, looking into everyone's face, 'to take action against Albus Dumbledore.'
There was a short pause and some clearing of throats.
'Bellatrix, you know what you are saying, don't you?' said her mother Gaia shyly. 'We are talking about Dumbledore here. The most powerful wizard of our time.'
'Is he, now?' spat Bellatrix. 'According to my knowledge everyone just calls him that. no one has yet been able to give me a reason for this view. As far as I could gather, everyone just takes older people's word for it.'
'Will you take my word for it?' said the Cardinal calmly, seeming less enraged about the matter than most of the other family members.
'Not if you do not give me a reason for it!' snarled Bellatrix.
'I shall tell you a little story,' said the old man, looking her in the eyes as calmly as ever. 'Perhaps that'll change your mind about things.'
Everyone came just an inch closer, as great-uncle Ferdinant's stories were usually interesting and a source of great historical accuracy.
'The story of Dumbledore's fame,' said the Cardinal calmly, 'goes all the way back to a time before he was born. As you might have gathered from his name, he is the descendant of a long line of very powerful wizards who once ruled our society with wisdom and deep understanding for people's matters. Before the segregation wars - they were during the 18th century, young Snape, you ought to have covered them at school - before the first of these wars everyone thought Muggles were equal to the wizarding folk - an opinion, which the Dumbledore family holds to the present.'
'Ridiculous,' muttered Sirus's mother. 'There is a reason we went into hiding.'
'That's right,' said the Cardinal, 'and this reason, too, lies with the ancestors of Albus Dumbledore. With his grandmother, in fact, who realised that it was either them or us. We had the choice of ruling the Muggles, destroying them, or going into hiding. The last of the three enabled us to maintain peace. The others would have brought war and destruction. As it happens, however, war and destruction is what the majority of the wizarding community would have chosen to solve the problem, seeing as most of our kind,' he threw a nasty side-glance at Bellatrix, 'seem to overestimate the power that lies in a simple thing like magic. So there was a rebellion and the influence of the Dumbledores ceased.'
'As far as I can see it, they are still at large,' snarled Bellatrix.
'You say that because you have not seen the influence Dumbledore's predecessors had on our community,' said the Cardinal simply. 'You and your generation can only imagine what power and control might mean. You and your generation can only hope not to experience wars of the kind your parents and grandparents have seen. And as it happens' the Cardinal's voice was assuming a slightly dangerous undertone now, 'these wars were both, started and ended by members of the Dumbledore family. They were fought by and over members of the Dumbledore family - personal feuds that endangered our whole kind. Power struggles beyond anyone's imagination. I have seen Albus Dumbledore's defeat of Grimmauld Grindelwald, and I can assure you, Bellatrix, that more powerful a wizard you could not get.'
'But there you go,' said Bellatrix, sounding supremely unimpressed. 'Grimmauld Grindelwald is more or less an ancestor of our family. His forefathers are said to go back to Merlin himself. He was no more a Dumbledore than I am.'
'Aren't you?' said the Cardinal sharply. 'Well, I suppose not, because Grindelwald is not as direct a relative of yours as you might wish. But who do you suppose his mother was?'
There was a short silence.
'I did not know Grindelwald's mother was related to the Dumbledore clan,' said Sirius's mother quietly. 'Are you sure about that, uncle Ferdinant?'
'It was a family feud, for Merlin's sake!' snapped the Cardinal. 'I was there. People have been talking about it for decades. Well... for a decade at least, ever since Hamish McGillivray published his dissertation about recent historical misjudgements. But even in there not all the facts are listed. How could they, when you cannot use a time-turner to travel into your own past? - Not legally, at least? You think people know half of what happened at that time? Well, then ask anyone - ask Hamish McGillivray whether he has heard of Albus Dumbledore's daughter!'
No one spoke now. No one so much as drew a breath until Livia Longbottom started shifting in her seat and Gaia slowly refilled her glass of Black wine.
'Uncle,' she said reluctantly, 'are you quite aware of what you are saying? Dumbledore has no family. If there was a daughter, people would know.'
'Not if he doesn't want them to know,' said the Cardinal sharply. 'Not if the matter is a bit too outdated for most people to remember clearly. Most people who are at large now, that is. I am not saying there is a daughter, but there was. She was killed in the early twenties. Perhaps even before that. Another thing, which is not quite clear. Outwitted and killed, along with her best friend and Secret Keeper. Don't gape like that, Sirius. That kind of expression doesn't look very becoming on you.'
'She was in hiding?' said Sirius disbelievingly. 'And then she was killed?'
'Fidelius is an evil spell,' said the Cardinal coldly. 'Which is why it is so rarely used. Of course, it is highly effective in terms of hiding, but if your Secret Keeper is killed, there is no way for you to be found again, unless people perform a very recently discovered counter-curse on the body... which is hardly possible if it burns, for example - or vanishes.'
He leaned back, once again enjoying the number of baffled looks surrounding him.
'Vanish, did it?' remarked Sirius's father. 'Well, then it shouldn't be too hard to trace it.'
'It has been attempted, I presume,' said the Cardinal. 'But not everyone can be as successful a tracer as you are, Perseus. Everyone considers this person dead, by now, just as everyone considers Maura Dumbledore to be dead and gone these days. Or just gone, but dead or gone hardly makes a difference in her case. And anyway, hardly anyone has the capability of standing up to the kind of isolation the Fidelius Charm bestows upon you for long. It is a horrible fate. I do believe Dumbledore was devastated at the time. But not even he could change the course of things. Well... I suppose he saw the need of killing old Grimmauld to satisfy his longing for revenge -'
Sirius suppressed a cough, trying not to imagine a revenge-thirsty Dumbledore in killing mode.
'- but that was not until many years later, of course,' continued the good Cardinal. 'And it did not change anything, of course.'
'Uncle Ferdinant,' said Gaia quietly after a short silence in which everyone seemed to follow their own thoughts on the matter, 'are you sure everyone believes this Secret Keeper dead?'
To Sirius's great surprise and some of the others', the Cardinal laughed.
'I know what you think, dear,' he said, a mischievous air invading the stunned silence that had spread over the little group of purebloods. 'And you are right. Not - everyone has given up the hope of finding this girl, even if her own father has.'
'You don't mean...' said Livia Longbottom slowly. 'Him? I don't believe it.' She laughed.
'Everyone thinks he is mad,' said Gaia, frowning. 'And he is! Trust me on that. Remember the kilt incident, everyone? That is saying everything, of course. And his whole family is against him in this matter. Well, that is mainly, of course, because she is a M-...' she stopped, a gleam of surprise appearing in her usually rather clouded eyes. 'Ferdinant!' she whispered. 'What person of their right mind would make a Muggle their Secret Keeper?'
