Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you can recognise from any books or TV series or movies. I do however take liberties with the plots or mentions provided by JKR or other writers. The only profit I'm getting out of it is improving my English.
Title: Secrets & Keepers – Entropy
Rating/Warnings: R/M [AU; Manipulative Dumbledore (therefore not Dumbledore friendly); profanity; canon typical violence; frank discussion of past child abuse (Harry but not only) and of past child abuse of sexual nature (not Harry); not very detailed descriptions of torture (not Harry); Black family feels; identity crisis; pureblood politics; good Slytherins]
Characters and pairings: Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Regulus Black, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Bathsheda Babbling. As well as Hermione Granger, Arcturus Black, Larry Lawrence (OC) and Josephine Turner (OC). The rest of characters will appear as the story progresses.
All adults are more or less paternal towards Harry or grandfatherly towards Hermione as well as generally friendly or at the very least civil towards each other once they sort out their differences.
References to past and present relationship of sexual nature between Snape and Babbling. Occasional mentions of one sided Sirius/James, not one sided Sirius/OFC (the woman of many names). Contains mentions of Remus/Tonks, eventual allusions to Larry/Josephine and background Arcturus/Melania. No Harry or Hermione pairings because they have a lot on their plates and won't have time for teenage nonsenses for a longer while (at the very least through PoA timeline).
Spoilers: All seven books with occasional, brief references to ground work for HP & CC main plot as well as Secrets & Keepers – Collision Course and Secrets & Keepers – Supernova.
Summary: Harry & Hermione learn that as weird as everything become in the aftermath of learning devastating news is that the life actually goes on. There's a Dark Lord to destroy, a manipulative Headmaster to overthrow, family bonds and new friendships to establish and old ones to maintain. Direct sequel to S&K - Collision Course and S&K - Supernova.
Chapter summary: Sirus has a heart to heart with Harry. Arcturus and Hermione discuss her father.
Word count: About 6300
Author's note: This story will make very little sense to anyone who hadn't read both Secrets & Keepers – Collision Course and Secrets & Keepers – Supernova. The reading order doesn't matter as both exist in their own private bubbles that don't affect the other. Chronologically Supernova starts way earlier than Collision Course but both of them conclude on the same day. If someone prefers writing order then Collision Course was written prior to Supernova. This story will contain spoilers to both and will liberally include and reference characters and information learned in prior instalments.
I would like to wish all of you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. May the ending of this rotten year be peaceful to you all. May you all be healthy because if there's one thing that this year had proven to all of us is that without health other things matter very little. May your loved ones be safe and healthy too. And may the coming year be better than this one.
Posted on Tuesdays.
Beta read by Regnbuen (Nitraz).
In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.
~Albert Schweitzer
Secrets & Keepers – Entropy
Chapter two: The Boy Who Wasn't Missing
Harry Potter, 8th August 1993, 12 Grimmauld Place, London.
If someone had told him a couple days ago that one day he would be sitting with his godfather, Potions Professor and a couple of other interesting people, and plotting how to screw up Dumbledore and his attempts to screw up Harry's life, he would have laughed. Then again, at the time he wasn't aware that he was living on borrowed time.
It was like some fucked up equivalent of cancer, and one that wasn't affecting his body. But it did affect him, he noted. It always affected him. The dreams of Voldemort, the pain of his presence, parseltongue. It was all Voldemort, the wretched parasite. As if it wasn't bad enough that he had taken away his parents and had attempted to destroy his life multiple times, he also had to take away…
Not everything. Not precisely. But he felt no longer sure how much of himself was purely him alone and how much of him was Voldemort.
The mutual airing of grievances of adults continued from the morning into noon, and concluded with a plan that was supposed to warrant that for the rest of the summer Harry would remain with Sirius, Regulus and possibly the other four at Grimmauld Place. It required Regulus's presence and his Metamorphmagi abilities, so he headed out with Snape and Babbling. Lupin and Tonks stayed a little while after that before they eventually headed out too. Lupin looked like he wished to talk with Sirius, but Sirius…
Sirius was at Harry's side through the entire day. Only allowing him privacy while in the bathroom, which was where Harry was at the moment, contemplating the idea of fixing the problem of being the vessel for Voldemort's soul by drowning himself in the bath.
He didn't want to die. Not that he'd really had a chance to consider death as an option before. In all of the previous instances when finding himself against Voldemort, he was too caught up in the moment, in not allowing Quirrel to get to the stone or Riddle to completely possess Ginny. In both cases death was on the table. That was one of the few things in which the adults had agreed on.
He didn't want to die but that didn't change the fact that his death would make the whole mess of Voldemort's scattered soul pieces easier to handle for the adults.
"Or if you died then Voldemort would take over your body and none of us would be any wiser," he heard Sirius saying from the doorway.
"I said it out loud, didn't I?" muttered Harry, more to himself than to Sirius as he looked at the man.
He looked awful, worried and haggard, older than last night.
"At the very least for as long as it would have suited him to kill us one after the other," Sirius continued as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. "And then after he would sort us out he would move on with his nefarious plans while using you as a vessel. Your friends most likely would have witnessed the change, they would be worried sick and eventually they would have confronted him… Wanna guess how that would have ended?" he asked as he perched on the edge on the bathtub.
Harry sighed heavily.
"Then what should I do?" he asked, hating himself for sounding petulant.
"It's more about what you shouldn't do," said Sirius slowly. "Don't consider it," he added as he reached to touch Harry's scar with the tip of his forefinger, "as a death sentence just yet," his finger had moved higher to tangle into Harry's hair. "Everybody dies, Harry, some sooner than others. Some get to live for centuries and some…"
"Die before they're born," finished Harry. "Like your son," he added softly. "Or not so long after, like your goddaughter."
"Please don't ask me to see you dead too before you had a chance to live," whispered Sirius. "I couldn't bear it, Harry. At the very least allow me a chance to find a way to remedy that. Promise?"
Harry swallowed thickly and he whispered, "I promise."
"Good," said Sirius briskly. "Wanna help me with sorting out guest rooms?"
"You have something in mind, don't you?" asked Harry sceptically.
"Well, I'm planning to stick Bathy and Snape in my parents' bedroom so I can have an entire floor between us," admitted Sirius.
"Why?" asked Harry, slightly curious.
"Well, if their exchange in the hallway says anything about the state of their relationship," the word relationship was spoken with a grimace, "then they're at it quite frequently. I know Bathy well enough to be able to tell when she's gotten some. And it hasn't been for a while. So unless they will traumatise Regulus before they return, most likely they will settle that shortly after, most likely here."
"What do you think she sees in him?" asked Harry pensively. "Not that I actually want to know," he added with a slight grimace.
"Considering that their first encounter was the actual, textbook rape, even by the standards of rape-apologists?" asked Sirius with a grimace. "Stockholm's syndrome maybe, or an unhealthy coping mechanism that managed to transform that into something consensual?" he offered and frowned. "Knowing Bathy…" he paused. "She presents herself as a put together, reasonable Ravenclaw, and she is one, most of the time. At the same time like Mirzam had been, she's a violent mixture of her nature and upbringing. The Babblings were Jewish, not Orthodox but very proper and traditional, but Mrs Babbling was an Irish Muggleborn, and little that I know about her, she could have a temper when pushed."
"So if Snape said something that pushed her past what she could handle too soon…" started Harry.
"He might have found himself in a reverse position. Especially if he had done shortly after her family had died," finished Sirius grimly. "Not that I have something against the idea. Rapists really are the worst kind of criminals that I had a misfortune of dealing with. Not that murderers are any better but…" he grimaced. "They take pleasure in someone's pain, in their humiliation, in watching people break before their eyes," he whispered heatedly, his eyes bright with something that Harry couldn't fathom.
Something in his tone bothered Harry. It wasn't speculative and as a former Auror Sirius would definitely come in contact with the victims of rapes. But his eyes, his eyes, they burned with a fire which Harry had seen before. The last attempt of destruction just before…
Then it dawned on him.
"You were raped," he whispered.
Sirius frowned, shook his head slowly and grimaced.
"I was," finally admitted Sirius.
"More than once," whispered Harry again, feeling in his gut that he was right.
"Repeatedly," muttered Sirius grudgingly. "Between the age of eight and sixteen, at odd intervals, inner schedule which only he knew," he admitted slowly. "More often when I'd done something that warranted a punishment. I hated it, every second of it, but he played me like a fiddle every goddamn time, so I complied," he paused and sighed heavily. "I complied because the alternative terrified me more than my own pain and humiliation. I could bear it, I bore it for over eight bloody years because it meant that no one else had to suffer the way I had," he sighed again. "I was obviously wrong, those people, most of those people, are excellent manipulators Harry. They know what to say and to whom they should say it. They're the parasites that destroy your sense of self-worth, your dignity, everything…"
Subconsciously Harry felt the change in tone and subject of the conversation.
"He didn't rape me," he said softly.
"Not physically," muttered Sirius with a grimace. "But think about it. A figure of authority, someone who should be capable of sorting out his own messes instead of doing so continued to manipulate a teenager, a child really into cleaning up after his own mistakes. Just because he isn't attracted to minors and hasn't laid a hand on a child, to my knowledge at the very least, doesn't make him any less of a predator. Not being a sexual predator is literally the only good thing about him."
"And that's why you will destroy him," said Harry. "What happened to him? Your rapist I mean."
"Mirzam did," answered Sirius with a shrug. "Stood over him while he was dying from a heart-attack and didn't lift a finger to help him. Later on she claimed that she arrived too late, but I knew her, better than anyone. I was family and there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep her family safe. Just like there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe, even if it means chaperoning you in the bath if required."
"You find it uncomfortable, don't you?" asked Harry as he straightened slightly.
"I survived seven years of sharing a bathroom with your father, and James didn't have constrains about parading around both the bathroom and the dormitory naked," replied Sirius with a grimace. "Not of ill will, at least I hope that it wasn't out of ill will but he grew up having an entire wing to himself and he was one lazy sod. Luckily Moony was as conscious about his own body as I had been and Pettigrew was far more easier to convince that wandering around naked wasn't exactly a bright idea. Not that James ever figured out why Moony and I kept shrinking their family jewels. He could be pretty thick sometimes."
"But he was still your friend," said Harry.
Sirius hummed before he said, "I will give you five minutes to sort yourself but if you aren't out by then I will subject you to Grandma Mel's hurrying up."
Then he stood up and started walking out of the bathroom.
"Should I worry?" Harry called after him.
"If you dally," called Sirius over his shoulder just as he passed through the door.
"Yes mother," Harry called out just as the door of the bathroom started to close.
Secrets & Keepers – Entropy
Hermione Granger, 8th August 1993, Black Manor, Derbyshire.
Saying it out loud didn't help as Arcturus suggested. It didn't make the words any less surreal, just like they had been in de Pagaille's workshop. It still seemed like a cosmic joke, even after losing a night of sleep over it and deciding that they didn't matter.
But Arcturus knew, and if Arcturus said that it was true then it was true.
She looked at him, dead in the eye. The answer that she received was all but a small nod, a brief jerk of his head really, so miniscule that if she didn't concentrate on the look on his face as hard as she had she would have missed it.
"Yes, he is," admitted Arcturus softly, just in case nonverbal confirmation wasn't enough.
"But how is it possible?" she whispered. "How could he father both of us?"
"From what I learned, and mind you, my only source was limited to only what she was told, it was a ritual of a younger generation of Death Eaters. Not widely spread out, blessedly, but the Dark Lord's crowd drew in many sick fucks," said Arcturus grimly and he sighed.
"Like him?" she asked.
"Part of me wants to say yes," said Arcturus with a grimace. "But I met him, and he had something that made him stand out amongst those that eventually found themselves in Azkaban. People like him don't seek fulfilling their carnal desires with other people against their will, because they know that by leaving behind physical evidence they incriminate themselves. No, they seek out whorehouses and consensual trysts."
"But I'm a living, breathing proof that he didn't, and not the only one," she pointed out.
"I know," agreed Arcturus. "But I also know when you and your sister were born and when you were conceived," he added with another grimace. "I don't know the name of the practice but Miranda reckoned that it was a sick ritual conceived by idiots. On the day of birthday of the younger members of that vile crowd, they would take the lucky sod out to live a little. Their form of party involved the use of alcohol and not exactly legal substances, and if they managed to capture a woman that they reckoned would do, also rape. Knowing that, I can gauge that it was the only time when he would have been stupid enough to leave behind physical evidence."
"Twice?" asked Hermione incredulously.
"There's no such things as coincidences, and yet some unfortunate people get struck by lightning again in the very same spot they had been struck the first time," said Arcturus and he shrugged. "If you want to know, all you have to do is ask," he pointed out.
"Over my dead body," snorted Hermione. "What's the statute of limitation on rape?" she asked.
"Pretty depressing," replied Arcturus grimly. "From the event itself, it's five years to the day when it can be reported. In case of repeated offenders it can be extended to ten but first the victims need to prove that it was a repeated offence."
"That's sick," whispered Hermione. "And my mother didn't know?"
"Like I said, she didn't wish to know. She knew that Miranda tested your magical aura against that of your sister, and knew that you were both fathered by the same man, but she didn't wish to know his name. Didn't want to give him power over her, or either of you, she claimed. That I can understand, she was one of those women that learned the hard way what the patriarchy does to women that fail to fall in line."
"So I have no other choice other than walking up to him and asking, hey dad, do you mind telling how many women you raped?" she asked with a barely contained snort.
"Or you can make him do all of the heavy lifting," said Arcturus pensively.
"How?" she asked sceptically.
"A man of his intellect and ambition, at his post doesn't exactly have a lot of time nor opportunity to show his talent," said Arcturus slowly.
"No, he spends his days teaching dunderheads how to not blow themselves up, and quite frankly making a pretty appalling bloody job of it," she said sarcastically. "Otherwise he would have figured out by now that Neville is terrified of him and would have benefited more from being left alone and not having him hanging over his shoulder, criticising his every move."
"I didn't say that he was actually a good teacher," said Arcturus with a small smile. "He's a pretty bloody brilliant academic though, and one that very early on had enough drive to scrap the old curriculum and completely change the way the subject would have been taught. Sadly, only Damocles and I could see that. Not that the denial stopped him from tinkering with other stuff. I was never as good a brewer as Regulus had been, but I grew to appreciate the art, and he taught me how to find pearls amongst the swine. It's the ones that tinker with everything, you see, the restless, the unsatisfied, the ones that don't settle for one plausible answer."
"Well, I only know the bat of the dungeons that torments children for a living," she replied with a snort.
"I'm not denying that. But that bat is probably the sole reason why Belby actually managed to finish inventing his Wolfsbane potion," said Arcturus dryly. "You see, no one can step on a Slytherin's ambition like another Slytherin, and if he actually happens to be smarter than you…" added Arcturus with a quick, small smile. "The potion itself interested me greatly so I followed academic works in which it was mentioned. Snape's was one of the names of Belby's staunch critics, and he never wasted an opportunity to call him an idiot and prove precisely why he was being one. If Belby had less pride and more honour he would have credited Snape for his work on the metallurgy of cauldrons that would be able to hold the potion."
"Being called an idiot doesn't exactly endear to you towards the one that does so," Hermione pointed out.
"No, it does not, but Belby should know better," Arcturus pointed out. "Brewing had always been considered as an easy subject, very imitative really. And there was the time when it had been one. For centuries wizardfolk believed that taking any recipe and following the steps of it to the letter should produce the same results as they had been to the original author of it."
"It's a logical assumption," interjected Hermione.
"Logical, yes. Correct, not exactly," replied Arcturus. "You see, for centuries not a lot about the ingredients of potions had changed. But industrialism really fucked up with that branch. The changes were miniscule at first, but the last turn of centuries had really done that industry in. The pollution in the air and soil caused certain species to adapt to more toxic environment, some species grew thicker skin, some produced less juice."
"But the recipes stayed the same," said slowly Hermione.
"For most of the time, yes," confirmed Arcturus. "In benign potions, one that don't require a lot of precision from brewers, differences are miniscule and easy to miss. It's the advanced potions that cause problems, as their recipes needed to be followed to the letter. But suddenly following them to the letter produced at best adequate results or a bubbling cauldron full of sludge at worst. Figuring out what's causing the problem takes a certain kind of genius, that not all wizardfolk are capable of showing."
"And you're saying that Snape is one of them," interjected Hermione.
"While Slughorn himself never raised to the same brand of genius, he was more than capable of spotting it in others. He managed to produce several generations of decent brewers but he only gushed over two from that generation. One of them was Lily Evans and the other was Severus Snape. According to Slug, the best results they produced when they were working together, but pitching them against each other in advanced classes also produced interesting results, provided that they were seated on the opposite ends of the classroom otherwise they both descended to sabotaging each other's work, especially by seventh year. Not that it happened often, for all of his appearance of a dotting grandpa, Slug had a keen eye for averting disasters."
"So you're suggesting that I should appeal to his ambition," said Hermione sceptically. "But by what exactly?" she pressed. "Claiming that today no one would be able to reproduce de Pagaille's results?"
"For example," said Arcturus with a small smile.
Then it clicked.
"I have an older sister," she whispered.
Arcturus nodded slowly.
"And she must be a student herself," she added.
Arcturus nodded again.
"So, if I managed to convince Snape to duplicate de Pagaille's work and use it on a smaller scale of Hogwarts' population then I would be able to find my sister, who would lead me to our mother," she whispered in awe.
"Provided that you would be able…" started Arcturus but suddenly he choked on something and collapsed forward, barely stopping himself from collapsing by propping himself on his right hand.
Hermione frowned and leaned forward, helping him to straighten.
"Tommy," he rasped out before he chocked again and this time when he drew in a raspy breath he choked on blood, that spattered over his hand and the pristine sheets.
Hermione almost ignored the soft pop that followed the summoning but couldn't ignore what appeared on the bed a moment later. It was a tiny being, half-human sized. It had a bat-like ears, pale skin and a small tuft of white hair located on the top of its head that were tied back much like Arcturus's had been into a ponytail. Judging from what she heard from Harry about Dobby it appeared that the newcomer was a house-elf though he, judging by the male name, was dressed quite nicely in a pristine grey shirt with a black belt tied around his middle.
The elf immediately straightened Arcturus and made him turn so when the next bloody cough came it fell on the floor rather than on the bed.
Hermione herself managed to untangle herself from the sheets and slid over to the edge of the bed, with her legs dangling down as she wrapped her left arm around Arcturus's shoulders.
Arcturus rasped and coughed blood a couple more times before his laboured breathing returned to some semblance of normality. As soon as it had, the elf had grasped his left wrists with his left hand and pressed his right palm against Arcturus's chest.
"Louise needs to see the Master," he said sternly.
"I'm fine," whispered Arcturus.
"No, you're not," protested Hermione.
"I'm fine," repeated Arcturus, with a little more heat. "Don't worry."
"Does it happen often?" asked Hermione as she looked over Arcturus's head at the elf.
"This thing happened the first time," replied the elf after a moment of hesitation. "Master had been prone to spells of dizziness in the past but for the last several years…"
"Master is still in the room and you shouldn't worry our guest about the state of my health, Tommy," said Arcturus, with small degree of disapproval in his voce.
The elf narrowed his eyes at the back of Arcturus's head. Clearly he had other ideas and Hermione couldn't help but agree. Coughing blood was worrisome at the best of times.
"I can feel you glaring," sighed Arcturus. "Tommy, help me down to Louise. Normal way, if you apparate me, I will definitely puke."
"Yes, Master," replied Tommy sceptically. "Miss Hermione should ready herself for breakfast," he added. "Hannah prepared clothes for young miss to wear, they're in the closet on the right side of the bathroom door," he elf gestured towards the door that was located on the opposite side of the room to the window. "Breakfast should be ready within half of an hour, as Master and Mistress like to break their fast early," he added before he hopped from the bed and onto what appeared to be an invisible platform located roughly a meter from the ground.
Then he helped Arcturus stand up and floating next to him, he led the older man out of the room.
In worry over Arcturus, Hermione had hurried with her morning ablutions, ignoring the luxurious décor that the bathroom offered. She only noted its size, which for a bathroom was impressive, as it was a little bigger than her own bedroom back at home. Opting out of a bath, she took a quick shower, hindered slightly in its speed by the sheer amount of offered liquid soaps and opted out of washing her hair.
Once dried she returned to the bedroom and opened the door to the wardrobe only to be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff she found inside it. Some of the clothes looked eerily familiar, as if they had come from her own closet while some looked quite aged.
In the end she settled for the replica of her poppy summer dress, which she found at Twilfitt & Tatting, but in a soft blue colour, with buttercups instead of poppies. She hesitated over lingerie for a moment, but the one she found in the closet's drawer looked new and fairly modest, like her own stuff. All of it fit her disturbingly well and she made a mental note to ask Arcturus how he knew her size.
Once dressed she examined her bag, which laid on the floor, propped against the footboard of the bed. She didn't exactly keep her clothes in there, mostly her books and notebooks, but she also kept a waterproof windbreaker in there, as well as a shawl, thin sweater, a fresh pair of socks and her poppy summer dress, which ended in there by accident. And when she examined her bag she still found them where they had been.
She put the socks on, preferring them over the tights that the closet offered, and found herself missing her own shoes. Only to notice upon looking around the room, a pair of cream slippers that when she put them on fit her feet like a glove.
Dressed properly, with her hair still pulled into a messy bun she forgot to untie after leaving the shower, she stepped into the corridor. It was wide and painted in a pale grey colour that contrasted heavily with the dark polished wood that could be seen around the edges of the graphite carpet running up and down the corridor.
For a moment she looked around, a bit at loss where she should head until she spotted a banister in the distance on the right side of the corridor. Banisters meant presence of stairs, which should lead downstairs. The design of manors shouldn't really differ that much from that of Muggle houses, and common areas should be located in easily accessible areas, generally on the ground floor.
Once she found herself on the staircase, she noted that it had to be an inner staircase of private quarters rather than something accessible to visitors. The stairs led up, at the very least to another floor above, if not two, and down to a bright corridor that was bathed in soft rays of the sun.
She headed downstairs and found herself in another inner hallway. One of the double doors were closed, but the other three were open wide, inviting her to inspect them from the distance. The room on her right appeared to be some form of the sitting room, as well as one on her left side, the only difference between them was that in the one on the left stood a black grand piano.
The door in front of her led to a relatively small, considering the size of everything else about the manor, dining room with a modestly sized rectangular table, surrounded by chairs that were meant to accommodate a dozen people.
Arcturus was seated at the far end of it, smoking a pipe leisurely and inspecting the newspapers. Seated on his left was fragile looking lady that looked up when Hermione entered the room and smiled at her. It was a bright, childlike smile that didn't fit her face. She didn't appear to be physically older than Arcturus but the skin on her face was pulled taut and more wrinkled than Arcturus's. She had long hair, in a similar shade to Arcturus's steel grey hair but with completely white strands peeking through, and while Hermione couldn't see her eyes very well, they appeared to be dark, probably brown in colour if not black.
"Ah, Hermione," said Arcturus as he looked at her over the paper before he folded it and placed it on the table. "Do sit down," he added and a chair next to him, opposite of the old lady slid out a bit, indicating where she was supposed to sit.
"Should you be smoking?" she asked sceptically as she approached the table.
"Like I said earlier, I'm fine," replied Arcturus with a small shrug. "Nothing a pepperup wasn't able to fix."
"You were coughing up blood," Hermione pointed out.
"And a small vial of blood replenishing potion. Do not fret," said Arcturus briskly. "Now allow me to introduce you. Hermione, my wife Melania," he gestured towards the lady who smiled at her again in the same childlike manner. "Mel, my flower, this is Hermione, Miranda's niece, she will be staying with us until I sort out her father."
"Which one?" asked Hermione sceptically.
"Well," started Arcturus with a small grimace. "You haven't been officially reported as missing, but only due to the ineptitude of the Muggle French authorities that insist that with no evidence of foul play your parents can report you as missing until after twenty-four hours. But they're both worried about you, and unless you don't want to attract the attention of a certain sherbet-eating old coot, I suggest that we should handle that issue today," he added quickly.
"I really don't want anything to do with him," replied Hermione rebelliously before she sat down.
"That can be arranged," replied Arcturus simply. "But I still think that they should be made aware that you're safe."
Hermione huffed softly before her eyes had fallen at the folded paper next to Arcturus and she felt her eyes widen as the breath caught in her throat when she read the headline upside down:
HARRY POTTER STILL MISSING!
Harry Potter, 13, still remains missing from his Muggle relatives. He was reported as vacating the premises of their house in the evening of the day before yesterday and were still missing yesterday morning. It still remains unclear whether or not The Boy-Who-Lived left his relatives voluntarily or not as it's uncertain where he is at the moment. It's speculated by various sources that he might have headed to his friends, but we were unable to verify that claim as certain people claim that Mr Potter's friends have the right to their privacy. If anyone should see him or if Mr Potter is reading this himself, please contact Aurors immediately.
"Sweet Merlin," whispered Hermione on an exhale. "Why didn't you tell me?" she choked out as she raised her eyes from the paper at Arcturus.
Who looked eerily calm, almost bored.
"You know where he is," she whispered as the realisation dawned on her.
Arcturus nodded slowly before he reached for the teapot.
"And you have no intention of reporting his location to the authorities," she continued.
Arcturus only looked at her and cocked his left eyebrow at her before he poured a cup of tea to his wife's teacup and then his own.
"Is he safe?" whispered Hermione, her stomach rolling with worry.
"Safer than he has been through the past twelve years," Arcturus finally replied verbally.
"Is Sirius with him?" she asked pensively.
"And Regulus," confirmed Arcturus calmly. "And one of those fucks, Regulus, I presume, has added him to the wards which make him untraceable by any magical means."
"Where are they?" she asked quickly.
"Black Manor in London," replied Arcturus as he reached for the smaller pot with milk and poured a generous splurge of it into Melania's teacup.
"The one on Grimmauld Place?" asked Hermione swiftly. "Can I see him?"
"Yes and no, in that order," answered Arcturus simply.
"Why not?" she asked with a frown. "Is something wrong with him?"
"I can't tell that much," sighed Arcturus. "What I can tell is that while I can still feel their presence I've been locked out of that house myself."
"What about the elves?" asked Hermione pensively. "Can they check upon them?"
"There's only one house-elf that can get in and out, and unfortunately he hasn't sworn his loyalty to me," replied Arcturus with a grimace. "He was an elfling that was Pollux's gift to his daughter on the day of her marriage to Orion. He was bound to follow my orders as the Head of the Black family because that was what Walburga and Orion ordered him to. My last direct order to him was to look after Walburga, which he did, until her death. He hasn't returned to Pollux or vacated the premises for an extended period of time," he sighed and frowned for a moment. "But," he started and paused, "he was insanely devoted to Regulus and was bereft with grief when Regulus supposedly died. It's highly likely that he would prioritise Regulus's orders over mine and in so far had ignored the summons. Lola, the other house-elf from that house, speculates that frailty of the bond between the two of us makes him deaf. It's not exactly unheard of, house-elves can and do have favourite masters. And while Kreacher was initially bonded to Walburga he had also been Regulus's manservant. Yes, he's highly likely to ignore me if Regulus's orders are contrary to mine."
"And no other house-elf can pass through the wards?" asked Hermione sceptically.
"If Regulus was involved in setting up the wards then I bet you a hundred galleons that he tuned them to his liking. He was an apt student in that regard and Orion was paranoid over the wards there. With Harry there, I'm certain that Regulus's paranoia had been cracked to the max," replied Arcturus.
"But he's safe there?" she asked quickly.
"Considering that he has been there for the last thirty-something hours?" asked Arcturus. "As safe as he can be between one paranoid Death Eater turncoat and most likely traumatised ex-Auror turned fugitive. Depending on how much time the boys had to spend hashing out their differences and mutual grievances, it's likely that he's either a hostage of one against the other or a willing houseguest, and I'm leaning quite heavily towards the latter," he added pensively.
"Why?" asked Hermione sceptically.
"Because Harry is a Black family descendant, the act of adding him to the house wards requires a willing surrender of blood from him, and Sirius wouldn't allow it if he was unable to see the merits of doing that. It is highly unlikely that he would be able to come up with it on his own which means that someone with a much clearer head had to convince him that adding Harry to the wards was paramount to his continued safety," explained Arcturus calmly before he reached for his tea and took a sip. "He was added to the wards yesterday which implies that rather than resorting to hexing first and asking questions later, my grandsons actually talked with each other."
"And that doesn't worry you at all?" asked Hermione pointedly.
"If I was Albus Dumbledore, I would have been worried, but since I'm not and I know where they all are at the moment I'm not even mildly concerned. Neither should you be, your friend is fine and safer than he has ever been. If most probably mildly overwhelmed with everything that's happened in the last couple of days," he answered.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"I would be," replied Arcturus with a shrug. "Enough talking for now, let's break our fast because we need to settle what the rest of your summer will look like."
Secrets & Keepers – Entropy
Severus Snape, 8th August 1993, Spinner's End, Cokeworth.
He could have sworn that the whole scheme was bound to blow up in their faces but weirdly it wasn't what had happened. Upon being contacted by Severus and told that he had found their missing charge wandering the streets of Cokeworth, Dumbledore accepted the bait and agreed with Severus's strong suggestion that Potter should remain with him for the rest of the summer without much of a fuss. But Severus could tell that if the Weasleys were still in England the boy would have been shipped there immediately.
Luckily for them, when Dumbledore finally arrived to set his own wards around the perimeter, he didn't wish to see 'Harry' that at the time was snoring in the master bedroom after being dosed with a calming draught (after Bathsheda ensured that should Dumbledore desire to check whether or not it was the real Harry, he would have found the real boy instead of an undead Metamorphmagus). Dumbledore vacated the premises after leaving Severus with a letter to Harry that was supposed to explain why the boy was supposed to stay with Severus and a plea to cut the boy some slack considering the circumstances.
Severus replied coldly that he would cut Potter as much slack as the boy deserved and barely stopped himself from slamming the door after the Headmaster. Not that he didn't feel tempted to hex the old coot into the next century after what he learned that morning.
Once Bathsheda reappeared on the premises, half an hour after Dumbledore vacated the town, without doubt rearranging Dumbledore's wards to her own liking and covering her tracks afterwards, they both woke sleeping beauty that wasted no time in returning to his own skin and size, transfiguring the clothes he borrowed from the boy as he went.
"So how did it go?" asked Regulus curiously once he finished sorting himself out.
"Disturbingly easy, all things considered," replied Severus with a snort. "I wonder how long it will take him to reach out to Lupin. Not that I particularly wish to see him," he added sourly.
"Don't complain," said Bathsheda with a shrug. "Lupin's knowledge on the subject of Dark Arts cannot compare to yours," she gestured between Severus and Regulus, "but he's far from being a complete moron. And all things considered, he does care about the boy in his own, very restrained, way. I won't frown over having another pair of hands and eyes to go through the pile of books which we will have to look through in the near future."
"I'm not complaining," harrumphed Severus.
"No, but it isn't exactly how you envisioned your day, or at the very least the next couple of months," commented Regulus with a small smirk. "Long break?" he asked with a smile that had way too much teeth.
"Seven weeks," replied Bathsheda sourly.
"Might turn into eight or more," muttered Severus.
"Ah, lover's spat. I will leave you to it then. I have some shopping to do. See you later," replied Regulus.
TBC
Next: Severus and Bathsheda have a long-overdue discussion about loyalty. Afterwards, Sirius and Severus attempt to act like a pair of adults capable of maintaining a civilised discussion with each other.
