Well, here's the next chapter of These Grim Bones. I hope to have the next posted next week, assuming all goes to plan and Murphy's Law doesn't kick in (fat chance). This went a little longer than I thought it would, and is actually the longest chapter I've posted so far in any of my fics.

This chapter, we get to see a bit of the inside of the ministry, and Amelia and Sirius begin to talk to each other. I apologize for the use of acronyms for the Ministry departments, but considering Amelia is a Hit Witch, and is eventually the Head of the DMLE, it seemed appropriate.

Incidentally, part of the will at the end of the chapter reflects a pet peeve of mine – when Peter Pettigrew is left out of the will. The whole point of switching Secret Keepers is that Lily and James don't suspect Peter of being a traitor. Why would they leave him out of the will then? Or even worse, what happened in one fic, where he was given thirty pieces of silver, you traitor! Come on, think.

I don't think I handled the will that well, but I didn't really want to spend three thousand words going through the contents of the Potters vault, and I'm sure Amelia and Sirius didn't want to either. Even the disposition of the land wasn't that important, and I didn't intend to have it initially, it just sort of happened.

Disclaimer: I don't own this.

Amelia Bones waited outside of Black's room at St. Mungo's. The Healer had said that he would be about an hour checking up on the man, and it had been about fifty minutes now. As she waited, Amelia had been deciding what to do with the criminal after he left St. Mungo's. No, not the criminal. She had to think of Black as something else now, after he'd been declared innocent by the Wizengamot. Her responsibility, then.

Amelia wasn't sure, but she thought that the Blacks had a home somewhere in London, probably in Knockturn Alley, knowing their reputation. She supposed that Black would want to return there, which left her in a bit of a dilemma. As a Hit Witch now assigned in a protective detail to Black, she would normally have to stay by him at all times. But this was not an ordinary assignment, as she wasn't supposed to protect him from a possible threat from a criminal, but rather against ordinary witches and wizards who were angry at him for his crimes during the war. This would require entirely different tactics. It would probably be sufficient to set some wards at his home, assuming that the Blacks' home wasn't already protected better than the Ministry, which was not an assumption that Amelia would bet money on. If Black wanted to go somewhere public, such as Diagon Alley, then she would have to go with him, however. But at least she would be able to sleep in her own apartment.

So, she would get him settled in at his home. He'd probably want to get reunited with his mother, a nasty piece of work by all reports. In any case, after setting wards on the house, and informing him of what she would need to do as his case witch, she could report to her boss to get her official assignment and more information. Presumably she'd get at least five other Hit Wizards under her, the normal number for a protective detail. That, at least, was a step in the right direction within the department, maybe leading to more leadership positions in the future, assuming that this assignment didn't come back and bite her.

After that, well, she'd just have to see. When she got her specific directives from Underhill, she'd plan out her moves, but for the moment, she'd just fulfill Fudge's rather unspecific orders—the spoken ones, that is. As for the rest, well, she'd keep her own counsel. Maybe she could do a bit of detective work on her own, and try to find out whether was in fact lying or if he was actually telling the truth, unlikely though that seemed.

Well, that seemed to be – wait, no. Harry Potter. When she had pulled him out of his cell in Azkaban, Black had said that the Potter boy was his godson. Amelia wasn't sure, but she would guess that he would try get custody of the boy, and wouldn't that be a mess if he succeeded. The savior of the wizarding world in the hands of a mass murderer, and one who had betrayed the child's parents at that.

With that, Amelia Bones felt herself make a decision on a question she hadn't been consciously aware of. She could not in good conscience leave Harry Potter at the hands of Sirius Black if he was indeed guilty of the crimes he was accused of. If Black was innocent, on the other hand, then she would not hand him over to Cornelius Fudge, no matter the consequences to her own career.

"Hit Witch Bones," a voice called from through the door, interrupting Amelia's musing. It was the voice of the Healer, Greeley, she thought.

"Yes, Healer Greeley," Amelia responded, as she entered the room once more.

"Your charge is free to go. He has had no lasting damage from his stay in Azkaban, although he will likely find himself craving chocolate for several weeks."

"Very well, thank you."

"It was no trouble, Bones. I can't say that I like a murderer like Black being set free, but… Anyway, give your regards to your brother for me, please."

Amelia shook her head in amusement. Did Harald know everyone? "Of course, I will. Come along Black."

Black, who had again looked pained as the Healer had mentioned his guilt, nodded and began walking out of St. Mungo's with Amelia. He noticed that they were again heading for the Muggle entrance instead of the fireplaces.

"Why are we going out the Muggle way? And where are we going, anyway?"

Amelia frowned. "Somebody probably leaked the fact that you were here. I'd rather not run into the press, and I'd even less like to run into someone who wants to get a piece of a Death Eater."

Black stopped suddenly, leaving Amelia to turn back and look at him in surprise. He was glaring at her, his mouth bared in a way that would have been more at home on a dog than a man. "I am not a Death Eater."

Amelia wasn't sure how to respond. "The evidence is against you, Black. In any case, it's not about what I think, it's about what some loss crazed wizard or witch with a desire for revenge thinks. Grief does funny things to a person."

Yes it does, doesn't it, Amelia thought. Seven years ago, she had planned to become a teacher, or maybe to start researching in Charms, not working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Grief does funny things to a person, indeed.

Amelia looked over to see that Black had been struck silent by this observation as well. His eyes were locked straight ahead, his face in a grimace. Yet another thing to add to Amelia's observations of Black. She couldn't tell if this was mourning for his friends, or anger that someone else might want to take out a death on him, however.

The pair walked in silence for the rest of the trip to the Muggle entrance, stepping out onto a street by a boarded up Muggle store. At this point, Black finally seemed to recover his voice. "So, where are we going, after all, Hit Witch Bones?"

Bones turned to look at him, seeing that he was no longer as visibly angry as he had been earlier. "Well, I assume that you want to see your mother, since you just got out of Azkaban. I don't know where her house is, however, so you're need to…"

"No!" Black shouted. "There is no way I'm going back to that House, ever again."

Amelia looked in surprise at that outburst. She hadn't been expecting that either, for certain.

"Well, you need somewhere to go. I don't suppose that you have an apartment or anything?"

"No, I spent most of the last year or so bouncing between Remus' and the Potters'…" Black's face turned ashen again, and he stared at the ground.

Amelia generally considered herself a fairly even-tempered witch. She didn't have much of a temper, and rarely raised her voice – besides when she was talking to her brother, at least. But this, on top of the aggravation of her new assignment, her thoughts of Fudge's corruption, and her earlier reminder of her parents' deaths, this was too much.

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to betray them to You-Know-Who!" she said loudly. "You have no right, no right to feel sorry for the Potters' deaths when you are the one who caused them." Black, his face still white as a sheet, looked like he was going to interrupt her, but she kept speaking. "How dare you—"

She was interrupted, not by Black, who was still looking stunned, but by a sudden flash coming from behind her. She turned towards the entrance of St. Mungo's to see a wizard just outside the empty Muggle store, the white smoke from his camera's flash drifting slowly to the ground. The wizard quickly ducked back through the store's glass, looking frightened, and Amelia noticed that her wand had somehow appeared in her hand.

Amelia was angry at herself now, for losing control and losing her situational awareness, not noticing the camera until it was too late. She'd better not end up on the front page of the Prophet, or she'd… well, she didn't know what. Probably hex Black into unconsciousness. Speaking of which—

She took Black by the arm firmly, ignoring his mutter of surprise, and Side-Along Apparated him with her, away from St. Mungo's and the possibility of more press surprising them.


Sirius staggered away from Bones when the Apparition was finished, totally disoriented. Side-Along Apparition was hardly fun even when you were expecting it. Being Apparated without warning made him feel like someone had cast a Spinning Hex on him, and then hit him with a Bludger to the head for good measure.

He sat down where he was, holding his head until it stopped spinning. He glared at the witch standing in front of him. "Merlin's soggy underpants, that hurt. What did you do that for?"

"Sorry, Black." She didn't sound sorry in the least. "I hope it did hurt." Nope, not sorry at all.

Sirius took his attention away from her for a second, glancing around their surroundings. "Where are we?" It looked like a Muggle street, but he could see trees between the buildings around them, so they couldn't be in London anymore. They couldn't be too far outside of London, though, since even the most powerful wizards would find it difficult to Side-Along Apparate someone farther than a few miles.

"I needed to get us away from that wizard. He probably worked for the Prophet, and having our picture plastered all over the front page of the Daily Prophet will make my job much harder."

"Your job?" Sirius refocused on the Hit Witch. He still wasn't really sure what she was doing, anyway. He'd been declared free, right? "What is your job, exactly? You said something about Fudge. Why are you still following me around? I've been declared innocent, right?"

"Well, yes," Bones admitted. "I've been assigned to keep you from being attacked by anyone who wants to take out their family's losses on you. Fudge didn't say how long I'd be assigned to you." At her mention of Fudge, Sirius saw Bones make a face as if she'd bitten something sour.

Sirius surprised himself by laughing at the face she made, and it looked like he'd surprised Bones too, for she certainly looked taken aback. This was probably the first time he'd laughed in over a month. Probably more than that, since there hadn't been much to laugh about during the War, either, and he hadn't gotten to see the Potters for almost two weeks before they'd…they'd…died.

Sirius leaned to the side and promptly threw up all he had in his stomach onto the ground. His head was spinning again. Images of the Potters, of James and Lily, were flying through his head in pace with the beating of his pulse echoing through his brain. Every heartbeat spent pain throughout his body, starting in his head but quickly spreading to the rest of his body.

Sirius curled up into a ball, trying to shut out the world. Why did James have to die? Why couldn't it have been him? Why did he trust that traitor, Peter?

"Look at me, Black."

He ignored the voice, it didn't matter. What mattered was his memory of James' body, sprawled out on the bottom of their house in Godric's Hollow, the light in his eyes gone. What mattered was Lily, her arms limp on the ground–

"Black!"

Sirius felt a sudden pain across his cheek, and his eyes focused slowly on the woman in front of him. What the…?

"Look at me Black. Can you stand?"

Sirius slowly nodded, and stood up, his head spinning again.

"Okay, hold on. I'm going to help you walk – we just need to go a few meters."

As the woman continued to talk, he focused on her voice, letting her help him walk. He wasn't really sure what she was saying, but he needed to have something to concentrate on or he'd fall into the blackness surrounding his own mind.

He barely noticed their journey from wherever they were to wherever they were going, but suddenly he was sitting down and the woman was no longer talking. He started to curl up again, images of James's body, wand held loosely in a limp hand, filling his mind again.

"Okay, Black, hold on," there was the voice again, something to focus on. It was a lifeline out of the darkness of his mind. "Black, open your mouth, and eat this," said the voice, gently.

Black did as the voice said, and felt himself biting into the wonderful sweetness of a bar of chocolate. He felt warmth spread through his body, expelling the cold that he hadn't noticed was there, used to it as he was from the last month.

He felt his brain come into focus again, although it still felt a little fuzzy. He looked up to see that Hit Witch Bones was standing in front of him. Sirius was sitting on a small red couch, imprinted with some sort of pattern that his eyes couldn't quite focus enough to see. He was in a small apartment, it looked like, furnished only with the couch he was sitting on and a small table in front of him. He could see a door to his left, which presumably led to a bedroom.

"Black, are you with us again?" Bones asked, her voice still much softer than it had been earlier in the day.

Sirius nodded, which promptly sent another blast of pain through his temples. When he brought his hands up to rub his temples, he noticed that his cheeks were damp.

"I've never seen anyone have such a bad reaction after leaving the Dementors. I almost cast my Patronus again, thinking there might be some around, but I thought that was probably unwise, given our surroundings. Besides, the chance of a Dementor coming here is not high, to say the least."

Sirius just looked at her dumbly, unsure of what to say or how to respond to the apparent change in Bones' personality.

"Well then," Bones said, straightening up, her no-nonsense tone returning. "I'm glad that's over with. You're in my apartment now, where I guess you can spend the night, as I gather you'd rather not return home to your mother. It's only three in the afternoon now, however, so if you'd like you can try to find somewhere to stay on your own right now."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't think…I'm quite up to that…right now." He managed a slight smile, despite his still spinning head.

"Very well. If you're feeling well enough to do so, I'd like to discuss what you will do in the next few days and weeks. I don't know when I'll be reassigned, but I'll need to be watching out for you for the next few days."

"I don't know…" Sirius shrugged. "There's nothing left…for me, anyway. Not with James and Lily…and Harry…" Sirius' mouth dropped open. "Harry! I need to—" He jumped up from the couch, stumbling slightly as he did so.

Bones was looking at him, with something that was not quite a glare on her face. "As Harry Potter's godfather, I guess that you will be able to get custody of the boy. I don't know if I like the idea, though. Actually, I don't—I'm still not sure if you're a Death Eater or not. But it doesn't really matter, since you do have the legal right."

Sirius looked at Bones curiously. "Thank you, I guess? Do you know what I would…have to do to get custody of Harry?"

"Well, I'd imagine that you'll have to go to the Wizengamot to get custody. I doubt you'll have too much trouble, since you clearly have the legal right. Are you planning on adopting him?"

"No, I couldn't," Sirius responded. "I can't be his father, James is his father…was his father."

Bones looked like she was about to blow up at him again like she did in front of St. Mungos, but held in her anger after a moment. "Black, we really need to talk."

"We are talking," Sirius said, a slight smile on his face.

"No, I mean seriously talk about why you keep on claiming to be innocent."

"Well, I am always Sirius," he said, grinning. That joke never got old, no matter how much…Lily and James got ribbed him for it.

Bones didn't seem like she appreciated the joke either. "What?...Oh. Your first name. Merlin, Black, that has to be the most ridiculously stupid thing anyone has ever said to me."

Sirius chuckled at that, although thinking about Lily and James reacting to this joke caused that familiar pain in his stomach. They wouldn't be there again to groan at his jokes, or laugh as he pulled a crazy prank. Damn that traitor Wormtail. Why would he…?

"Black?" Bones asked. "You with me still? Do you need some more chocolate?"

Merlin, he'd drifted off again. Sirius hoped that wasn't going to be a frequent occurrence.

"Sorry, yes, I'm here," Sirius said, seriously…or Siriusly. This time he didn't say the joke, although he was thinking it.

"So, Black, why do you claim to be innocent? The facts seem to be against you – you killed Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles in cold blood in front of multiple witnesses. But you keep on claiming not to be guilty, and you don't really act like a Death Eater, at that. Doesn't look like you have the Mark, either."

Sirius sighed. Well, at least one person was willing to hear him out. Even if it wasn't Dumbledore, Remus or the Longbottoms listening to him, this would have to do. He sighed again, and launched into the whole sad story, starting with Dumbledore telling the Potters to go into hiding.

He left out the reason why they had to go into hiding since it was told in confidence and even Dumbledore didn't know that he knew about the prophecy – about, not what was in it – but he told the rest. How he had convinced James to change the Secret Keeper from him to Pettigrew, how on Halloween Sirius had gone to check up on Peter and found him missing. How the first thing Sirius had done after that was to Apparate to Godric's Hollow and what he had found there. How he had given Harry to Hagrid, who had arrived thirty minutes later to find Sirius still there, in shock. How he had tracked down Pettigrew the next day and cornered him in a street.

"And then you killed Pettigrew," stated Bones, who was now sitting next to Sirius on the couch. "I don't blame you for that, but you killed thirteen innocent people as well."

"No, I didn't," Sirius said, angrily. "Pettigrew did. Merlin, he looked at me, no remorse, no nothing, and just cut off his finger. He was the one who cast the blasting hex, not me."

"And all they ever found of him was a finger," said Bones in dawning horror. "But the Aurors had to have looked at the memories of the Muggles around. Couldn't they have seen that?"

"I don't know," said Sirius. "Maybe it wasn't really noticeable, maybe they had already assumed my guilt. After all, a Black is always a Black, isn't he?"

"Damn that Fudge," Bones said, snarling. "He tried to cover up his mistakes, and sentenced an innocent man to Azkaban. Merlin's beard!" she swore.

"So, you believe me?" Sirius asked, hope in his voice.

A pause, and then. "Yes…I do believe you. I'm not sure why, and I'm pretty sure I don't like it, but I do believe you."

Sirius almost laughed at Bones' reluctant tone, but he resisted the temptation. Instead, he asked, "Then now what?"

"Well…" Bones looked unsure. "Well, I want to hex Fudge and the Aurors until their eyes are coming out of their feet, but I don't think that's the right move."

This time Sirius did laugh. "While I agree that would be incredibly satisfying, I kind of doubt that would be the right move in this situation."

"So, I assume you want to get custody of Harry Potter, then? You'll have to go to the ministry tomorrow then, and you should probably hunt for an apartment then, as well."

"Okay, and then what? How can I convince everyone, Dumbledore, my friends, that I'm innocent?"

"Well, getting your story out there is probably your best bet. Maybe you can get an interview with someone at the Prophet. At least it will put doubt in some people's minds."

"So, we never did discuss exactly what your job will be. You said earlier that Fudge," and here Sirius grimaced in an imitation of Bones' earlier manner, "assigned you to me. What does that mean?"

To Sirius' surprise, Bones actually let out a bark of a laugh at the face he pulled, and then responded. "Well, like I said, Fudge told me to be assigned to your case to ensure that you wouldn't be attacked by furious people who wanted to get back at you for the War."

"Will that happen?" Sirius asked, worried.

"I don't think so," Bones responded. "This was more about Fudge trying to get me to find something out that would justify you going back on trial and being arrested. He wanted me to find something, even if it had to be fabricated. Of course, he didn't say that, but he definitely wanted me to know that turning you inn would be really good for my career."

"Why? Why does Fudge want me in prison? I understand my friends wanting me in prison, although I hate the idea, but why Fudge?"

"Well, it seems that Fudge and his Obliviators allowed several of the Muggles to die on the scene when they could have saved their lives. He's afraid that if you remain at large, his negligence can be revealed and make his run for Minister impossible. At least, that's what my brother thinks."

Sirius spent the next few hours sitting on the couch in Bones' apartment, and then ate a small dinner. After his time in Azkaban, he could barely manage to stomach more than a few bites, but it was still good.

When he complimented Bones on her cooking, though, she laughed. "I can't cook," she said. "I don't have time even if I could. I went to a small restaurant down the road and got them to make me something. Most of the time I just eat at work, anyway." She paused, and then added, almost challengingly, "it was a Muggle restaurant. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's not a problem," Sirius replied, almost offended by her assumption, but not surprised. "I'm not your average in-bred Pureblood bigot. Merlin's Underpants, I've even got a Muggle motorcycle…well, it can fly, and it's invisible, but other than that and a few other modifications, it's a Muggle bike."

Bones seemed satisfied at that answer, and she went back to her meal. After the meal, Sirius sat at the couch again, nibbling on some chocolate, while Bones Flooed to the Ministry to get her official assignment and fill out some paperwork.

Despite his earlier breakdown, Sirius felt better than he had in a long time. Someone believed him! And he'd be able to see Harry soon! With Bones' help, he'd be able to clear his name and see his friends again. He couldn't wait to see Remus again, Merlin, how had he ever thought that Remus of all people could be a traitor, he didn't…

By the time Bones returned, Sirius was laid out flat on her couch, fast asleep.


The next morning, Amelia brought Black with her to the Ministry to fill out some paperwork. She told him as they went that Fudge, Merlin damn him, had only assigned two other Hit Wizards to her, the bare minimum allowed by standard protocol for a protective detail.

"I don't know what Fudge is trying to pull now," she snarled, the now familiar grimace settling on her face as she said the name. "It doesn't make any bloody sense. Why in Merlin's name would he assign me only two Hit Wizards? He obviously doesn't want me to do my job, but how is this going to encourage me to do what he wants?"

Surprisingly, Black actually had an answer for this. "Fudge doesn't really understand people like you," he said. "He's a politician, and before that he was an Obliviator, not an Auror or Hit Wizard. To him, it's not an insult or a punishment. He's never wanted to command or lead people, he wants to have them listen to him."

"What?" Amelia asked. "Black, that doesn't make any sense."

"To him, it does. Fudge is from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Command, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement sense, means responsibility, means having to deal with small details and having to look out for those under him. He doesn't want that part; he just wants the part where he's an important person. For him, the title is more important than the position. So, he thinks that you'll be flattered that he's given you a fairly important title – head of a protective detail isn't usual for someone only five years out of Hogwarts – while taking away the real duties."

Amelia had a hard time wrapping her head around this. Duty, the responsibility for her people, the opportunity for command, the ability to do good, those were the reasons she'd entered the DMLE in the first place. She could intellectually understand that someone would have a totally different mindset than her, but she couldn't really comprehend it. She snorted. Obviously Fudge had the same problem with understanding her.

"I don't know, but I guess that makes some sense. Doesn't make it any easier to bear, though. How did you figure it out so easily?"

Black grinned. "I've wanted to be an Auror since I was little. My parents, though, all they ever wanted to be were 'The Blacks.' I've had a lot of experience communicating with people who just don't understand me and whom I just don't understand." Despite the grin, there was definitely some pain in his expression.

"I see."

The rest of the journey through the Ministry passed in somewhat awkward silence, until they finally reached the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department (MWRD) in an out of the way corner on level two. The MWRD was a bit of an oddity in the Ministry as it wasn't a part of any of the major departments – DMLE (Law Enforcement), DMAC (Accidents and Catastrophes), DMT (Transportation), DMGS (Games and Sports), DRCMC (Magical Creatures), DIMC (International Magical Cooperation) or DM (Department of Mysteries).

Instead, the MWRD, the Administrative Regulation Department and the Department of Magical Education, among other offices, were all individual offices that reported directly to the Minister. They had all once been part of the Department of Magical Records and Administration before it had been disbanded in 1953 by Minister Leopold for rampant corruption. The MWRD had been moved to Level Two in 1971 when the Wizengamot courtrooms had been moved to Level Ten.

"Good morning, Madam Greenhold," Amelia said politely as they walked into the office. It was a very small office, chronically understaffed. Of course, a large part of the department's functions were fulfilled by magic, but nonetheless the three witches of the department were always swamped in work.

"Miss Bones!" Madam Greenhold exclaimed, happily. Amelia smiled through the obligatory hug and kiss on the cheek, as the older Witch seemed to think that she was still the twenty year old Witch who had needed help with the paperwork after her parents had died, instead of the now twenty-seven year old Hit Witch with a strong career.

Madam Greenhold, after releasing the hug, looked up and saw the man behind Amelia. "Hello, I'm Victoria Greenhold," she said, politely, extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Sirius Black, Madam Greenhold," Black responded, taking the older Witch's hand and kissing it.

Madam Greenhold turned slightly pink, and to Amelia's surprise didn't seem to recognize Black's name. On second thought, perhaps it wasn't such a surprise, as Madam Greenhold was married to her work and probably didn't even read the Prophet.

"Well, Miss Bones, Mr. Black, how can I help you? I doubt this is a social visit."

Amelia began to speak, but Black cut her off.

"Well, Madam Greenhold, it would have been a social visit had I known such a lovely Witch was slaving away in the depths of the Ministry."

Amelia was torn between being irritated and amused at Black's behavior. Madam Greenhold, however, obviously had no such conflict, and was laughing at Black's ostentatious flattery.

"You do me too much favor, Mr. Black," she said with a smile. "And this may not be the most spacious place, but it is far from the depths of the Ministry. Slaving away, though, well I don't think that I can contest that part."

"Black," Amelia stated with a warning tone in her voice. "Get to the point."

"Sorry, Bones." He didn't sound very sorry. "Madam Greenhold, I'd appreciate your aid in a matter that's very important to me. My friends, Lily and James, were…killed," he choked a little bit on that part, "a month ago. I should have been given custody of their son, Harry, but I was indisposed at the time of the will reading. Could you help?"

Madam Greenhold, who looked very sad at the mention of Black's friends' deaths, looked at Amelia pityingly, noting the similarity between this Harry's situation and her own. "How old is this Harry?" she asked. "And do you know when the will was read? It would help if you'd narrow down the timeframe. What's the last name?"

"Well, Harry would be a little over a year old now," Black said, his smile slipping a little. "He was born at the end of July, and his parents were killed on Halloween."

At this, Madam Greenhold looked startled. Even she, who didn't keep up to date on the Prophet or most of the affairs of the Wizarding world, knew a Harry whose parents died on Halloween. "Not Harry Potter?" she asked, in awe. "Mr. Bones, you are Harry Potter's godfather?"

"Yes, I am. I am…I was James Potter's best friend."

"Well, then, let's get to it," Madam Greenhold said. "Do you know when the will was read or where Harry was placed?"

"No, I don't know either," he said. Amelia thought that he looked surprised at Madam Greenhold's game face. Amelia remembered it herself, from those dark days after her parents' death.

"Well, let's see. Make yourself at home, you two. This might take a little while." Madam Greenhold bustled off into the stacks of paper behind her desk, muttering to herself, and Black looked after her in surprise.

"Where should we sit?" he asked. "It doesn't look like there's more than the one chair."

"I'll stand," responded Amelia. "Hopefully no one got the word that you were here, but you never know, so I should watch the door. We won't get the other two wizards of your protective detail until tomorrow. I've asked if I can pick them myself, and Underhill agreed."

Black looked a little surprised for some reason, but Amelia ignored it. She set herself in a nice position in the corner of the room, her eyes on the doorway. Black looked almost like he was going to protest, but a glare from her and a pointed look at the chair put him in his place.

After only a few minutes, Madam Greenhold came back, looking flustered. Amelia was surprised, she remembered this kind of thing taking much longer, from the few times over the past seven years that she had asked for Madam Greenhold's help.

When she said as much, Madam Greenhold started talking, uncharacteristically upset. "The will wasn't read," she said, looking like that was an offense worse than using an Unforgiveable. For her, maybe it was. "The first thing I do is always check the box of the deceased family, because normally there's a note left saying when the will was read, which could help me narrow down where it is. But the will was still there!"

"What does that mean?" Black asked.

"Well, it means a lot of things. Basically, until the will is read, the Potters aren't officially dead in the eyes of the law. That means their proxy on the Wizengamot remains the same, as does their proxy on the Wizard's Council. The executor of the Potter trust can't make any changes to their investments, and can't use it to support young Harry, either. Hmm, well, it also means that their properties and funds aren't subject to the Mort tax, either."

"Mort tax?"

"Death tax, Miss Bones. On the death of a member of a High House, the heir's inheritance is taxed. Well, actually that's true for anyone, but High Houses are taxed less."

"Oh, I see."

Black interrupted the conversation. "Okay, so their will was never read. Why? And what should we do, then?"

"Well, as to why, I don't know," responded Madam Greenhold. "It probably wasn't even considered in the confusion after You-Know-Who's fall. Do you have any idea of who would benefit from its reading? I've the will here, but I won't open it."

Black considered it, and winced. "Well, the only ones who are likely to benefit from it are me, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Neither Lily nor James has any surviving family. And I doubt Remus even thought of it, I was… indisposed… and Peter is also…missing."

Madam Greenhold didn't draw attention to Black's obvious reluctance to talk about certain things, but instead nodded. "That makes sense, then. No one really thought about the reading of the will, and the only ones who would benefit from it and would be likely to want it read didn't mention it. It's still a shocking oversight, but understandable under the circumstances."

"So what now?" asked Amelia. Why the will hadn't been read wasn't really important. They needed to discuss practicalities.

"Well, I suppose that I'll need to get someone from Gringotts here to read the will, and someone from the DMLE and someone from the Administrative Regulation Department. Give me another moment, you two, and I'll set something up."

Madam Greenhold quickly went to the small fireplace in the corner of the room, and a Floo calls, while Amelia and Black waited a little bit longer. Then she made two Interdepartmental Memos, folded them into a small paper airplane, and sent them in motion towards the lifts. Within twenty minutes, the room was very crowded as first a Goblin popped through the fireplace, greeting Madam Greenhold cordially and nodding to the other two occupants of the room, and then a wizard and a witch came into the office from the lifts.

Amelia smiled and greeted the witch, who she knew from association with her brother. "Good morning, Emily," she said. "My brother told me how helpful you were earlier in the week."

Emily Catlan grinned. "No problem, Amelia. Always glad to help. Besides, I saw that Black hadn't gotten a trial, and if that didn't get my blood boiling, I don't know what did. I don't care if he's as guilty as sin, he's supposed to have a bloody trial."

"Thank you," Black said, smiling as Emily jumped as she noticed who else was in the room. "I appreciate that, even if you don't believe my innocence."

"Well, Amelia, what is Black doing here?" Emily asked. Amelia hesitated for a second. Gossip spread through the halls of the Ministry like pixies at a feast, and having it known that Harry Potter was going to be in Black's custody would make her job much harder. But she trusted Emily not to spread it around too much. Besides, Emily worked in the DMLE's Wizengamot Administration Services, and, much though she detested it, the expression 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' definitely had some merit in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

After a moment she realized her caution was silly, a word she didn't like attributing to herself. Emily was here to witness the reading of the will. It wasn't like Amelia could conceal the whole affair from her anyway.

"Well, Black here is going to try to get custody of his godson."

"His godson?" Emily asked. "I thought that we were reading the Potter's…you're not telling me that Harry Potter is Black's godson?" she asked, raising her voice.

"Shh, keep it quiet. I don't want that to get around too much, or it will make my job much harder."

"What's your job, then? I've heard rumors around the Department, but no one really knows what your new assignment is, besides that Fudge gave it to you personally, and Underhill said that you'll get your pick of Hit Wizards, or even an Auror if you request it."

"Underhill said I could get an Auror?" Amelia asked, incredulously. "He didn't say that to me." She paused, and then got her mind back in order. "In any case, I've been assigned to keep Black here in line."

"Hey!" exclaimed Black. "What do you mean keep me in line?"

Amelia ignored him. "Anyway, yes, Black is Harry Potter's godfather. Apparently the Potter's will was never read, and it's pretty likely that he'll be assigned custody of the boy."

"Are you sure that's a good thing?" Emily asked, nervously.

"No, I'm not sure. That's while I'll be here, to make sure nothing bad happens. Besides, if that is what the will says, then it's law, and it's not my right to contest that."

"Hey, I thought you believed me," Black said, obviously upset.

This time, Amelia did respond to Black's question. "I said I believed you. That does not mean that I think that you'll be the best guardian for Harry Potter, and it also doesn't mean that I trust you completely."

Black seemed still upset, but Amelia didn't want to beat around the bush. The truth was that she didn't trust him. He could have been lying about the whole thing to keep him in her good graces. She didn't think so, but it was possible that he was in fact darker than You-Know-Who and Grindlewald put together and could fool Veritaserum. If he could fool Veritaserum, it wasn't likely that she could see through his deception. Even if he wasn't that dark wizard and was innocent as the driven snow, Amelia didn't know if a haunted former inhabitant of Azkaban was the best guardian for Harry Potter.

The wizard from the Administrative Regulation Department cleared his throat.

"Sorry, Mr….?"

"Marcus Selwyn," he said. "Can we get on with this?"

Selwyn was obviously a pureblood, and just as obviously he didn't really want to be here. No doubt news of this meeting would spread through the pureblood houses like dragon pox.

"Of course. Madam Greenhold, could you get the will?"

"Yes, of course. Bogrod, you are here representing Gringotts and the Potter Trust fund. Miss Catlan, you are here representing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as is Miss Bones. Mr. Selwyn, you represent the Administrative Regulation Department, and I am witnessing and reading for the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department. Do you all agree with these statements?"

There was a general sound of affirmation from the occupants of the room.

"Therefore, I will begin the reading. The specific bequests will be given to Bogrod to process and distribute, so I won't bother with that. The important parts are the disposition of the Potters' land and, of course, of young Harry Potter. Hmm, let's see… Being sound of mind and body, yes, do bequeath … ah, here we are. There are several grants of specific artifacts from the Potter's vault, sums of money…we'll let Gringotts sort those out. Land, then:

"To Remus Lupin we will grant our house in Godric's Hollow, with the request to make sure that Harry always feels at home there.

To Peter Pettigrew, we grant the small plot in Devon that he always loved, along with the bequest noted above to build a house there.

To Sirius Black, we grant the Potter townhouse in London, so he never has to return to his "Ancestral Home."

"Then," Madam Greenhold continued, "that's settled. I'm sure Bogrod will work out the deeds. Now, to young Harry. In the event of our death, we grant custody to one of the following people, in order: Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Frank Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore."

"Well, it seems pretty unambiguous," Emily stated. "Black gets custody of Harry."

The other two witnesses agreed, and Madam Greenhold went into the shelves again to find a form that she needed. "This is a custody form," she explained. "This will affirm that you have custody and guardianship of Harry Potter. If you'd like to formally adopt him, you will have to go through a separate process."

"No, that's all right. All I want is guardianship," Black agreed. "So, I just sign it?"

"Yes, after I fill in the relevant information."

A few minutes later, Madam Greenhold was finished, and Black signed the document where it indicated.

"As witnessed by the people in this room, Sirius Black is granted custody and guardianship of Harry Potter as indicated by the terms of his parents' will, until he reaches the age of seventeen and is of age."