Back in Black

by Byakugan789

Rescued from life on the streets, Eric Sirius Stark is about to discover the wonders of a hithero unknown magical world. Spells, intrigue and monsters await, buried between class and friends and rivals where no one completes their education unscathed. Enter stranger, but take heed… NOT SLASH, not SI, just OC

8. Chapter 8

AN: OK, the only people who've responded over the last week seem to like the continuous string theory so Here come chapter 8, where the original plot truly starts to die. I hope you continue to enjoy my work and, as always, please review. As with the first I'll accept anything from 'cool' to 'WTF ARE YOU DOING, ZOMG YOU FAIL!' so long as you can give me a dissertation on why…

Also, little shout out to dobbyelflord who's works have contributed small bits to several chapters and a direct quote here during the Azkaban visit. Permission was attained a while ago.

Chapter 8

June 10th 1992, 1130am Lloyds Bank London

Eric walked through the doors of the bank illusion firmly in place and headed for a teller. "Hello sir, how may I help you today?" said the man behind the counter.

Eric tweaked his illusionary form to smile and spoke. "Howard Stark" he said, handing the man his bank card. "I'm here to make a withdrawal." There were a few seconds while the clerk typed in his information before raising a brow in slight shock. "I would like ten thousand straight in 50 or 100 pound notes if you could." The man paled this time.

"Is there any particular reason sir? Are you unhappy with our service?" the teller asked; mouth dry.

"Not at all, I've simply found an investment I'd like to take advantage of." Eric replied smiling.

Color returned to the man's face and he printed out a form from the computer beneath the desk. "Please take this to the accountants on the second floor, third door on your right. Fill everything out in triplicate."

Eric nodded "I'll be back shortly to let the bank know how things went." He said before walking off.

Half an hour later Eric left the bank with a briefcase full of paper and headed for Diagon Alley. Apparating to the gap between Florien Fortisques and a small knickknack shop Eric headed for Gringotts bank, still in his illusion as a 'muggle' businessman in a bowler hat. The young boy smirked slightly as he noticed the sheer number of stares he was attracting and pushed through the gold double doors. Joining the shortest of the lines Eric waited to be served, laughing slightly as he had to defend his briefcase against the spells of a few patrons. Deciding to have a little fun he turned the illusions head 170 degrees and split the face in a sharp toothed grin, 'looking' directly into the eyes of one of the culprits. The woman flinched and turned away.

Eric had a hard time maintaining the illusion against his laughter for the rest of his wait to see a goblin. "Human." The manikin before him intoned as he stepped up to the desk. Eric glanced at the creatures nametag briefly before speaking.

"Skullscraper." He replied, dropping the forward section of the illusion. "I would like to open a Gringotts account." He said shortly, placing his leather case on the desk and opening it. "Ten thousand sterling." The green figure looked between him, the edges of the remaining illusion and the money before speaking.

"Welcome back, Stark." the creature sneered. "Close your case and follow the guide we provide you. The goblin nation hasn't forgotten your last visit and are… eager… to do business with you." Eric nodded and did as he was directed, following a new goblin named Bonecrunch up a set of red velvet stairs. After a short walk down a hall he was shown through a large stained oak door. The office within could easily have been considered plush, there was a massive teak desk, stained wooden paneling everywhere, gold accents were numerous and the floor and chairs were coveredinhighquality blood red velvet. It could have been a lawyer or judges study if not for the fact that instead of books the walls were covered with severed heads of various beasts, goblins, other magical races and the occasional wizard, their wands nailed where one would normally expect to find a nameplate.

On the desk was a golden name plate that said Raspgore Flitwick. Eric didn't quite gape, but he did stare openly at the name before looking up slightly into the smugly grinning face of the wrinkled goblin. "My half-brother," the goblin said with a toothy smile "the mad bomber. Yeah, most humans are surprised to see that. I understand you're here to open an account, eh?"

"Yes," Eric replied placing the briefcase on the desk and dropping his illusion completely "10000 sterling." He finished, opening the latches.

Raspgore nodded. "I'll see that this is processed." He said shortly, opening a drawer on his large desk and pulling out a runed bowl and a knife. "Cut your palm and allow some blood to flow into the bowl then sign these forms and fingerprint them in blood as well. Your vault will be 3794." Eric nodded and split his palm, surprised as it didn't hurt any and closed quickly after a small pool of blood collected in the stone basin. Eric took the papers and began to read them carefully in an effort to make sure he wasn't signing away anything important as opposed to opening a simple account.

"Mr. Stark" Raspgore spoke as he went over the papers. "When you were last here the goblin nation expressed an interest in buying your method of concealment and remote interaction. What are you willing to part with the information and items for."

Eric looked up sharply, brows raised in surprise. He'd quite forgotten about that until now. "The information's quite free, master banker" Eric said simply. Goblins existed on cruelty McGonagall had told him and bins constant lectures in magical history offered no counter point to this so he was interested to see how the miniature would react to the truth, after all, as is often said, the truth hurts. "I've developed my powers as a human wizard beyond the need for a wand as a point of necessity while I lived as a street rat. My method is a simple application of glamor's and telekinesis." The green man gave a disgusted snarl but paused, seeing Eric grinning. "However, given a few years of study in runes and arithmancy and a proper incentive to do so, I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult to create such an apparatus. Given the way you brought this up I assume Gringotts has an offer?" he finished pressing his thump to the bottom of one of the pages and turning to the next one.

The creature smirked and nodded. "We do indeed. We're prepared to offer you 200 galleons per unit payable on delivery and demonstration."

"500." Eric replied.

"250" came the counter.

"450."

"275"

"400."

"300, final offer."

"Make it 317 and you've got a deal."

The goblin gave him a strange look. "317? That's an oddly specific number."

"I've been a sneak thief for a couple of Muggle crime bosses, this is the part where they either start laughing and agree on the price or one of them gets shot in the face." Eric explained, smiling. "I'd prefer to avoid that last one."

The goblin gave him a flat look. "300, take it or leave it."

"Tough crowd" Eric said frowning. "Fine; 300 galleons payable to my account upon delivery and demonstration" Eric agreed.

As the Goblin opened another drawer to pull out an official document to record the deal Eric's eyes were attracted to a flashing light off to the side. "Um, Raspgore, your bowl is flashing."

The green man's face popped up over the desk from where he was shuffling around papers and he looked where Eric was pointing. "Now that's odd, it only does that if the applicant already has access to a vault at the bank." The yoda wannabe tossed a sheet of paper at him and Eric caught it, reading a transcript of their negotiations and a summary of the finished deal ending with a place for two signatures. "Human, come here."

"What's up?" the redhead asked floating over to the desk.

"Place your hand on this pad here and don't flinch." The sharp toothed gremlin replied, grabbing his hand and pressing it against a small circle of stone that had slid out of the base of the bowl. There was a burning sensation like he has stuck his hand on the side of a pot of coffee and then nothing.

"Well, well, well… what have we here?" the creature smirked, looking at the crest that had appeared when Eric removed his hand. "Heir of the house of Black, main line." The goblin took a few moments to enjoy the look on Eric's face before continuing. "Since your fathers still alive the family vaults will remain sealed to you until you reach majority or emancipation but confirmation of an heir, once processed, will open a trust vault for your use."

The goblin laughed manically as Eric dropped from the air and landed on his ass, looking stunned. Heir to and old family? And one rich enough to gift out trust vaults too… It was a little much to handle. Eric's mind whirled as he went over the details. His mother, Maria, had met his father, Sirius, of the now named Black family, in a bar for a night of drunken revelry culminating in a pleasant enough experience to convince his mother to keep him. The same man was apparently both alive and had a personal or family history that was both famously promiscuous and open minded enough that they'd accept bastards, an odd thing in medieval or even Victorian societies. Further noted that it named him heir he was either the first or perhaps only child of said man who was in turn the heir or possibly head of named noble family. All of this and the image of the man, possibly his father, that he'd seen in the mirror of Erised flashed though his mind in under a second, but everything was overshadowed by a single thought.

My father's alive.

That in of itself opened up an entirely new can of worms. He'd always known it was a possibility but considering the sheer number of factors involved his father easily could have been anyone. That he was not only alive and a wizard to boot but the head of a family large enough to offer money to strays… It was too much to process at the moment.

"H-his n-n-name," Eric stuttered "It's Sirius Black I take it?" he asked.

"Sharp for a human worm, aren't you?" came the reply and Eric snapped around to glare at the wrinkled green visage.

He stood up abruptly, all business. "In that case I want this converted directly into gold and loaded in a deposit bag. I will await your owl for confirmation of my trust vault over the summer. I don't suppose you would be able to tell me where I might contact my father? I'd like to set up a meeting as soon as possible." He said briskly.

"You don't read a whole lot do you, human?" the Goblin said slowly, giving him a shrewd look.

Eric glared, still too confused and in shock to get properly offended. "I'm a Ravenclaw," he shot back "I read quite a lot, thanks."

The goblins smile became positively predatory at this. "Then I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that Sirius Orion Black is currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban prison for selling the Potters out to Voldemort."

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Eric lay in his trunk staring morosely at the ceiling, absently floating galleons in a chaotic swarm as he thought about what to do. As soon as Raspgore had given him his gold he'd rushed out to the alley and immediately interrogated Mr. Flourish at the book store, looking for any and every reference he had to the name Sirius Black. What he had found was not particularly encouraging.

Sirius Orion Black, born first of two sons to Orion and Walburga Black, had distinguished himself early in life by not following the family tradition of sorting himself into Slytherin the first in a very LONG time apparently. Sirius became known quickly thought out Hogwarts as the black sheep of the Black family and was constantly and publicly at odds with his parents. Sirius became friends with James Potter and Remus Lupin and the trio distinguished themselves as both genius's and troublemakers and a level the Weasley twins struggled to match. When war broke out between Voldemort and Dumbledore he had sided with Albus, at least publically. Headstrong, fun loving and womanizer were words people around the alley had used to describe their memories of the man who had been best man at the Potters wedding. But then something had changed, shortly after Harry's birth the man had become harried and snappish and there were rumors of Sirius plans to pull out of the war and vague whispers of a prophecy. Not long after the Potters were dead and Sirius was apprehended on the streets of London in full view of the public casting a blasting charm on a former friend who accused him of betraying the Potters. When the arresting officers arrived on scene moments later the man was laughing his head off and didn't stop even as they dragged him to Azkaban prison and threw away the key.

Eric frowned as he thought about that. Had there ever been a trial? He couldn't remember ever having heard or read about one during his search for information. His frown deepened, going over every scrap of information he'd been able to find, examining it as if he had it right in front of his nose. Nothing… There had never been a trial. That struck him as slightly odd, there was eye witness testimony from over a hundred civilian witnesses the ministry obliviators had detained on scene, memories had been collected, a dozen bodies catalogued and the remaining sludge of the man, Peter something, sifted through, but there had been no trial. Even if they were absolutely certain the man was guilty why wouldn't there be a trial? At the absolute minimum it would give someone a chance to gloat and prop themselves up on the political capital of sentencing the man who allegedly killed the parents of their wonder child.

He needed to know. He had to see the man, confront him. Even if it was only so he could curse his father's name in peace, he had to know why.

Clambering back up to his room in the Leaky Cauldron Eric summoned the gold he had acquired from Gringotts and shrunk the box into his pocket. It had been a week since he'd found out about his Black and six days since he'd sent an owl to Harry. It hurt him that the boy hadn't replied, but he wasn't entirely surprised. It was bad enough for him to find out his father had been at least partially responsible for his friend being an orphan, how much worse was it for Harry to hear right after finding out that the man who'd actually done the murdering was still hanging around?

Eric shook his head. Padma had been sympathetic when he'd called her over the mirror, but he needed to see Harry in person. It wouldn't do to simply give up and lose the boy as a give up and lose the boy as a friend, that just wasn't who he was.

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Harry walked across the ceiling of the kitchen, holding back a smirk as his aunt Petunia paled and hastily started crossing herself. No matter how many times he did it his… guardians… reactions were still funny. If it weren't for the silence from his friends this would have been the best summer he'd ever spent since moving in with these… people seemed too nice a word for them… hmm, he'd have to put a bit of thought into that one.

Harry grabbed a sandwich and headed back to his room, reaching out a lazy hand to summon another movie from the Dursley's cassette shelf. Despite his ability to cast spells wandlessly he still made an effort to keep things out of the eyes of the rest of the neighborhood, wandless magic notwithstanding, he very much doubted the ministry would be pleased if he just started using his powers willy-nilly and more than that was absolutely certain for all Eric's brash power the boy wouldn't be able to protect him from repeated violations of the statue of secrecy.

Still, it had helped him with his relatives, scaring petunia and Vernon absolutely shitless without him even needing to bother intimidating them. An invisible shield here, a bit of flying there, summon a few harmless bits of entertainment material and the Dursleys were so afraid of him he didn't have to worry about meals or chores anymore! He wondered briefly if that made him a bad person, but shrugged it off almost as quickly as his mind conjured references to the constant small abuses he'd suffered over the years.

On the other hand, he was getting bored. And worried too come to that… Hedwig, his poor owl, had returned from over a dozen trips to deliver mail ruffled and without a response of any kind. At first he'd fallen back on old worries of abandonment but as the incidents multiplied he was beginning to suspect foul play.

He opened his door in Dudley's old room and prepared to levitate the movie (Disney's Aladdin) into one of Dudders old TV's when he stopped suddenly.

"Yo, Potter, what's up? You don't call, you don't write, one might almost think you didn't care!" Eric was sitting on his bed, stroking Hedwig. Harry blinked his eyes a few times and rubbed them to make sure he wasn't seeing thing.

"W-what?!" he spluttered, spraying bits of bread and turkey across his friends lap before swallowing. "Me?! If anything you're the one who's been ignoring me! All of you have! Do you know how many times I've sent out Hedwig in the last week and a half only for her to comeback empty handed?"

Eric gave him a long piercing look before speaking slowly. "Then… you don't know? You haven't…"

"Don't know what? What haven't I done?" Harry burst out. "I've been spending the summer here thinking my friends had abandoned me!"

"Oh, nothing particularly important," Eric replied airily, waving his hand. "We've all been talking and thought you were ignoring us so I was elected to come and check up on you." He lied.

"You're doing that thing again…" Harry growled. "I really don't know why you bother trying to lie to me anymore, Eric; you're not very good at it."

"Or maybe you just know me too well." Eric returned with a grin. "Well, look at the time!" he exclaimed suddenly, whipping out and unshrinking his trunk. "Let's get packing shall we? We've got a vacation to go on remember?"

Harry gave him another suspicious look before going to the door. He pulled it open roughly and shouted "Petunia, Vernon, diddy-dumkins! I'm leaving, thanks for the hospitality! And keep my room clean while I'm gone!" he turned back to a thoroughly bemused looking Eric and said "What?"

"Oh, nothing" Eric said again in that same voice. "Simply that your relationship with your… uh, relatives… is significantly different than you portrayed it at school."

Harry smirked. "Makes me feel bad sometimes" he admitted "but you teaching me wandless magic that allows me to get around the underage restriction has added a rather unprecedented dynamic to life here." His smile turned softer for a moment. "Remind me to thank you for that." He said as his personal effects began flying from various places around the room and down the hole of Eric's trunk. As the last item made its way down Harry followed the pair of socks into the trunk and began to search for a room to claim. He came back up shortly after and allowed Eric to reclaim his trunk.

"Keep in telepathic contact and dissolution yourself, Best not to risk the statute of secrecy this close to London." Eric told him abruptly, pulling his hood up and suiting actions to words. "First place we're going to stop is Hermione's, her parents run a dental clinic up in Enfield, it's a town that makes up most of north London."

I know where Hermione lives Harry shot back she gave me her address on the train and we've talked about her family often enough, what with being best friends in the same house!

Ho there, buddy, Eric snarked back no need to bite my head off. The redhead sent as they began their assent into the clouds and arrowed north. I'm just trying to make sure you know where we're going so there's no need to play catch up. We can play in the clouds if you want, but first we gotta get there!

Race you! Harry sent and Eric felt the aftershock as his green eyed friend shot past him. Grinning Eric gave chase.

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"…ole new world huh?" came a voice from just beyond Hermione's window. The bushy haired genius frowned and put a marker in her book, she lived on the fourth floor of a Tudor apartment, who would possibly be near here window? Setting the tome down she slowly crept toward the panes of glass, left slightly ajar to get a breeze.

"Yeah," said a second. "Great movies that Disney stuff. C'mon, let's do the Peter Pan thing, I think this is her window." Hermione Jean Granger paled slightly. Whoever it was, was looking for her and was intent on entering her room via the window. That meant it was either that annoying neighbor boy who'd just moved into 4f and wouldn't take no for an answer or someone magical. As she powered up a hex in each hand she wondered briefly if Eric had infected her with his paranoia before shrugging it off.

"You know, I think I've been a bad influence on you, Harry" laughed the first. "What are you going to do when she blasts you out of her window?" Harry? Harry! That meant the second voice was Eric! They were all right! Uncurling her hands she bounded up and threw the window wide looking for the pair of boys. After half a second she saw the telltale distortions of Eric's cloaks.

"Get in here you two!" she squeaked, stepping out of the way and gesturing wildly. "Quick, before someone sees you!"

As the two boys floated through her window and landed Eric turned to Harry and quipped. "Y'know, I might be remembering this wrong, but I'm fairly sure Wendy doesn't invite poor orphan Peter into her bedroom Harry."

"Oh shut it." Hermione giggled as she pushed back Harry's hood and gave him a big hug, giggling.

"So what was going on, Harry?" the mousey haired genius burst out. "I mailed you at least five letters already and I know London post isn't the greatest, but it's only to Surry and you should have responded long before now and you have Hedwig! I was really beginning to wo…" Hermione blushed bright red as Harry placed his finger to her lips, quieting her. This happened a lot, the bushy haired preteen mused, you'd think the constant behavioral training would have gotten through by now…

"There, you see her, sitting there across the way." Eric sang "Boy she got a lot to say, but der someting about her! And ya don know why, but you dyin to try, you wanna… kiss da girl!" Harry grabbed her book and threw it at Eric, who dodged laughing. Harry was blushing now and Hermione wondered why the room was suddenly feeling very hot.

"So, it's not that I don't want to see either of you, but…" Hermione temporized.

"What are we doing here?" finished Eric. "Good question! I got something I need to tell Harry and since I'm sure you'll hear it eventually and I don't want him sailing off into the blue or trying to kill me all of a sudden I thought it'd be best to do it here."

"No, Eric," Hermione moaned as Harry stiffened "what did you do this time?"

"Why does it always have to be something I did?" Eric asked, crossing his arms and pouting. At the pair of raised brows he deflated. "It's not what it did this time, but who I am."

"Who you are?" Harry asked, incredulous "We've shared enough memories I'm fairly sure we've had a fairly good picture for most of the year. You're an orphan street kid who ran a magic show and played personal sneak thief for Belfast's seedy underbelly…" Harry summarized "I don't see what you are that we haven't already forgiven."

"Well, bear with me then, because this starts off a little convoluted." Eric sighed. "When your father was at Hogwarts he had three friends." Eric explained. "Two of them were on his level and always getting in the same trouble as him, much like Fred and George, while the third was just a hanger on. They remained close after they graduated but then there was apparently a prophecy, according to the people I talked too. I couldn't find out what it said but shortly after there was a series of attacks. Your parents, Neville's and the fanboy. Now, the evidence is sketchy on the what's and why's but according to the official word Voldemort was led to your parents by one of those friends who later killed the fanboy."

Harry's face was dark and unreadable but his voice remained calm. "That's very good to know, but what does this have to do with you?" the green eyed boy asked.

"The man who reportedly betrayed your parents…" Eric gave a big sigh and continued; pointedly not looking at Harry "was named Sirius Black."

"Oh." Hermione said covering her mouth. "Oh no, Eric, you don't think…"

"I know." The boy said looking down. "I found out at Gringotts last week. I was trying to open a vault and found I had access to the Black family estate. I'm his only son… that we know of at least."

Harry was breathing heavily beside her and Hermione found herself a little scared at the look in his eye. "Eric, I don't blame you for being that man's son, Merlin knows if the Dursley's taught me anything it's you can't choose your family…" the boy closed his eyes and tensed till the point he started shaking before releasing with a hiss "But I think you'll understand if I don't take this well."

"Harry…"

"Not now Hermione." The boy bit out. "I'll be back in time for dinner, I'll meet your parents then." He lifted off and disillusioned, turning to Eric "Don't follow me." He growled before rocketing out the window.

Eric let loose a heavy sigh. "Well, that didn't go half as bad as I'd thought it would."

Hermione hummed worriedly, looking between her remaining friend and the window. "Yes, but how are you taking it?"

Eric was silent for a long moment. "I've been better." He said finally. "On one hand, I've got a dad, yay, on the other, he's a convicted felon and former member of a terrorist organization that targeted the families of several of my closest friends." He grimaced for a moment before speaking again "and then there's the part where I ask myself what he would have thought about me and my mother and everything just goes all pear-shaped."

"I'd like to say I understand," Hermione said quietly "but really I can only imagine. It's got to be hard…" Eric laughed. "Well, come on. I'd like you to meet my parents; I'm really glad the two of you came, we were about to head off to Germany for vacation, Dad's got us a cross country tour set up and…"

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Eric ended up having a late lunch with the Grangers and after an attempt by Dan Granger to intimidate his daughter's boyfriend and a short argument, Eric left them with a gold bar and a promise that they'd take care of Harry while they were on vacation. They insisted they'd have done it anyways, but as far as Eric was concerned 5000 pounds certainly wouldn't hurt. They'd been a bit dubious at first having tried Eric's scam with the gold already, but when he offered to write them a check instead they'd shrugged it off.

Now Eric was headed to London. He'd packed and left Harry's effects with the Grangers and now he was headed for the ministry. After a brief stopover at the Leaky Cauldron for directions Harry landed by a phone booth in Whitehall. He looked at the Ferris wheel in the background before stepping into the booth and picking up the phone. 62442, Magic, funny. "Welcome to the ministry of magic," said a bored female voice "please state your name department and business."

"Eric Sirius Stark, umm, law enforcement, family business."

"Thank you, " said the cool female voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes." There was a click and a rattle, and Eric saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Eric Stark, filial investigations on it. He pinned it to the front of his coat as the female voice spoke again. "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

With that the phone box descended into the ground. Not the floor of the box, the entire damn box descended, like that was inconspicuous… After several minutes the movement stopped in the ministry atrium and Eric got out. "Thank you for visiting the ministry of magic." The voice called out again, shooting up into the ceiling like a bullet. Eric briefly wondered if it had come down that fast while he was in it and if so how far underground they were.

Turning around he took in the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. It was a large open room covered in dark paneled wood and marble, active fire places covered the walls where wizards and witches popped in and out on business every few seconds. The ceiling was a sky blue dome like the Ravenclaw common room but instead an unimpeded view of the stars there was an ever moving collection of golden runes. In the center of the room was an alabaster fountain adorned with golden statues of a wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and house elf. The Fountain Of Magical Brotherhood read a plaque beneath the statue. Eric fought the urge to openly laugh at the display. Even a casual student of history knew that the centaurs, goblins and humans all hated each other with a burning passion. The centaurs in particular hadn't been on good terms with humans since the death of King Arthur, probably even before if that portrait of Morgana on the 4th floor was to be believed.

Shaking his head Eric headed through the security desk with a sigh of exasperation. Two auror's and a clerk stopping everyone who goes in or out and they don't take your wand… what was the point? Were there wards on the scale that tracked your wand? Did something at the desk register your identity and movements to be monitored by a security office? Eric had no answers as he headed for one of the golden lifts and joined the crowd. The fact that they even allowed him to enter without an escort of some type make him dually nervous and disgusted. He could only hope that they'd decided to overlook him either because they had some impressive ward system or because he was headed to the auror's office and the figured he couldn't possibly cause any trouble in a building full of cops.

Eric paused in his contemplation at that thought. That was actually a pretty good point, what could he do in a room full of cops? Become invisible, teleport around and kick all their asses with his apparently impossible ability for wandless magic? Hardly, they could teleport and become invisible too and wanded magic cost less to do and was, for the moment at least, quicker cast as well. The only real advantage he had was that he couldn't effectively be disarmed.

The lift hit the second floor and announced itself as the department of magical law enforcement. Eric stepped out with a number of other passengers and looked around. For all that the magical world seemed to be desperately clinging to the Victorian era the department of magical cops seemed to be straight out of one of those cop shows he used to watch at the shelter on occasion. Shrugging he was about to start looking for someone who's department might be helpful when a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Wotcher kid, whatcha doing here? Aren't you a little young to be wandering around the ministry by yourself?" The owner of the hand was a young woman with violently blue hair and orange eyes. She wore a red robe like a lot of the people he'd seen in his brief time on this level but was missing any sort of badge like the rest of them seemed to be wearing.

"I'm, uh, looking for someone." He blushed, staring into her eyes. He'd never seen anyone with that particular shade before. Sure, Ma'am Hooch had cat eyes, but orange was definitely new… Then her eyes changed to a shocking green and the woman smiled.

"Nymphadora Tonks." She said brightly, sticking out her hand for him to shake, which he did enthusiastically. "I'm an Auror trainee. This is a pretty big place, easy to get lost in, why don't I help you around?"

Eric shrugged, better this than just wandering around clueless. "I'm looking for someone who can take me to Azkaban prison on a matter of family business. I'm not sure where to go though so I figured I'd come here and poke around. If you wanna find a prison, a room full of cops sounds like the right place to start looking." He said grinning.

Tonks laughed and stated walking in a random direction. "Well, that's one way to go about it. Certainly better than being sent there officially. Thing is, why would you ever want to go to a horrible place like that?"

"Oh, you mean the dememtors?" Eric asked following along behind. "I've got a fairly good handle on my fears and if not… I'd worry more for the wraiths than myself."

The woman's hair changed red like his and she gave him a strange look. "Anyone ever tell you you're full of it, kid?"

"All the time." They stopped outside a door marked Office of Magical Corrections.

"Here ya go, kid." The woman said, her hair changing bubblegum pink and eyes a deep blue. "Ol Krik's a little grumpy cause career was went belly up after being assigned so best be polite." She began to walk away and then spun around without breaking stride. "By the way kid, what's your name?" she asked as he opened the door.

"Black." He replied "Eric Sirius Stark nee Black"

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Nymphadora Tonks was many things, Auror trainee, hardworking former Hufflepuff, generally kind, exuberant, feisty and 18. At the moment however she'd settle simply for stunned. Black? With a middle name of Sirius? It couldn't be, could it? But he was looking to visit Azkaban for 'family business'. Could she really have a cousin who wasn't a total douche? Mum needed to hear about this right away she decided. Pulling out a mirror she called her mother's name a few times and asked her if she'd be home for dinner and left. This wasn't something to be bandied around in public.

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One hour and a hundred galleon bribe later Eric was standing on a pier in Dunbar Scotland ready to sail out to the island. His Auror guard looked less than pleased to see him but that was probably an effect of being stationed on the island in the first place. Needless to say this wasn't a particularly sought after position what with the dementors, the constant shitty weather and the cold all competing to kill you slowly.

Stepping into the little row boat in front of the man Eric frowned at the water in the bottom. This wouldn't do at all he decided as the other man tapped the wooden sides of the boat and they got moving. Pulling out a bit of his power Eric shielded the boat in a rippling violet shell that immediately cut off the roaring elements and began to heat the boats interior. The drab red robed guard looked up in astonishment looking between the world outside the shell and the violet fire flowing from Eric's clawed hand.

"'ow's you doin tha?" he slurred, his accent indecipherable.

"I'm an impatient uppity brat who doesn't like discomfort." Eric answered. "I wanted a shield against the elements, so it happened." The Auror with him rather than get offended just gawked at him as they lost sight of the shore and the island appeared out of nowhere before them. Like Hogwarts the harbor for the island was situated in a grotto underneath the main body of the island. Unlike Hogwarts however it was guarded by a pair of dememtors. As Eric neared the creatures the air began to grow colder and something slimy began scratching at the walls of his mind, trying to find purchase. Unbidden, the memory of his first experience with the black fire floated to the surface of his mindscape and he shuddered. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Ms. Tonks that she should be worried more for the dementors than him, he thought as small motes of ebon plasma began running up his arms.

Then they were passed the creatures and in the prison itself. The Auror he was with led him to a room and opened the heavily runed door for him, ushering him inside. Sitting at a desk, eating his dinner and reading a book sat the warden of Azkaban Prison. The staff of the building was minimal, five men and a couple of house elves to deal with the care and feeding of the prisoners, such as it was. The tower didn't need much else, after all, at any given time there were almost never more than two dozen prisoners in the entire island. On top of that even the nature of the demetors was such that they didn't really even need walls, doors or the frigid North Sea to keep anyone here, the Wraiths that guarded the place kept them trapped within their own minds.

There were 50 cells for every day prisoners, idiots who routinely broke the law and got caught. These cells had fairly short turn overs lasting between a week and six months depending on the severity and iteration of the crime. The magical world did not see much in the way of serious crime. The ability to conjure and transfigure items to meet your needs took away most criminal motives. Minor crimes were punished by loss of a wand temporarily or permanently, home imprisonment (via wards), or use of potions to prevent desire to commit the crime again. Major crimes were limited to murder, rape, Dark Magic use, violent attacks on Muggles, or treason. (Treason covered a wide range from attempts to overthrow the Ministry to repeated/willfully breaking the Statute of Secrecy.)

And of course, you also had to be caught and then convicted to face incarceration at Azkaban.

The current wardens' name was Marius Tal, a surly half-blood who had only worked his way to the middle of the ladder in the DMLE before insulting the wrong person; not that Eric knew this. After explaining that he was here to see the prisoner Sirius Black, Eric ended up having to pay another bribe, this time only 10 galleons, before one of the Aurors would lead him up to the permanent residents cell block. Eric watched as a woman named Travers created a patronus mist and they began climbing the stairs. As they pushed through the twisting corridors and stairways that formed the fortress Eric was reminded of the crystal palace in Belfast by the way the dementors would crowd close as they passed reaching out their scabrous hands like Meth heads begging for a quick fix.

Reaching the top of the tower the woman pointed to the cell holding the black head and left, taking her meager protection with her.

Walking up to the cell in question Eric looked through the bars. They were locked and the cell shadowed but Eric could see movement inside. Walking up to the door Eric kicked it and conjured a ball light. Sitting against the one wall, slowly eating a bowl of gruel with his hands was the emaciated form of the man he had seen in the mirror so long ago.

"Sirius Orion Black?" the redhead asked coldly. The man paused ever so slightly before answering.

"I suppose I am." He replied, voice raspy. His piece said the man continued eating the bowl of pottage.

Eric stood there and stared at him for a long time, just looking at the wreck of a man. As he stood there a chill began to creep into the room and the figure sighed. "Damn dementor again." He grunted. The man looked up as black flames began creeping over Eric's limbs and gave him a curious look.

"Give me a minute," Eric grunted, massaging his temples and trying to block the creature out "Don't go anywhere." The man gave a barking laugh and Eric turned around to see a hooded specter floating down the hall toward him, breathing in great rattling breaths like wind in the reeds. Eric let his shields slip for a moment and shuddered as the memories of his mothers death washed over his mind, bringing the sinister flames into full bloom. With a roar of fury Eric let the ebon energy flow into the stone floor and his feet and transfigured it, launching the mass towards the shade. It looked at him curiously as the attack barreled towards it but whatever it might have been thinking stopped short as the fiery rock touched it.

The creature screamed as it sailed back against the far wall, the stone flowing around the creature's torso and binding it to the stone, the black flames lapping their way down the robes and across the creatures body. It was a horrible sound, like nails on a chalkboard or the screeching howls of the tortured. As Eric's attack guttered out, the wraith crumpled limp against the mortar, taking the sound and memories with it into blessed silence. Satisfied and feeling slightly vindicated Eric returned to the cell door to find the man still sitting there, licking out his bowl. "Neat trick there, with the rocks." The scruffy stick figure said. "I didn't think anything save the patronus charm could give them pause."

"Neither did I" Eric replied. "I looked them up but the only clues you wizards have are they can't pass though solid objects and they don't like holy spells." He gave the man a hard look before continuing. "Or unholy ones either it seems. The Black Fire didn't work 'cept to hurt it but I was just trying to transfigure the stone into a binding."

"Clever" the elder Black Barked. "So, what do you want? You don't seem to be gloating and, while cold, you haven't been openly antagonistic to me either, so that begs the question what anyone is doing with an old washed out convict, let alone a child."

"James and Lilly Potter," Eric replied "I want to know why. By all reports they were your best friends, even that fanboy Peter what's-his-face. Ten years of friendship that was by all accounts the stuff most people only wish they had, why sell them out?"

"Would you even listen?" the near corpse shot back. "No one else did, people took what they saw and in their hysteria threw me in here…"

"Without a trial" Eric finished for him. "Yes, I know. I've done my homework on you old man."

"Now that begs to question." Sirius replied. "Why would you care enough to do that? What's in it for you? How would you even know to ask?" he queried cynically.

"A number of reason, most of them personal" Eric answered. "Not the least of which is because my best friend is Harry Potter."

That statement caught the man's attention. "Really now," the greasy haired man said leaning forward and actually meeting Eric's eye. "That's interesting." He muttered rapturously "And how is my godson doing these days? Well I trust?"

"He's doing better," Eric replied, voice frigid "no thanks to you or either of your masters, Black. Now explain."

"I didn't betray Lilly and James." The emaciated figure said wearily, "Not directly at least, though I may as well have cast the spell myself considering what I did do." He looked at Eric's blank face and sighed. "I suppose it can't hurt to tell the story again, I've got nothing but time after all."

Eric sat and gave the man a pointed look. "Alright then," Sirius began. "The first thing you have to understand is that Remus Lupin is a werewolf." The elder Black explained. "We didn't know it when the three of us, me, James and that hanger on Peter Petigrew befriended him but we figured it out pretty quickly. It wasn't hard; growing up purebloods you hear all the stories and the signs were pretty clear. By the time we figured it out though we'd already become fast friends. We confronted him about it and he confessed and told us about when and how he was bitten. Most people would have run away, shunned him or even seen to it that his stay at Hogwarts was ruined or even ended. Not us." Sirius laughed as he reminisced about old times. "James and me were all about breaking the rules and having fun and what would be a greater insult to the establishment than staying friends with a werewolf? Well, we found a way, we became animagi."

"This is heartwarming old man, really, but there is a point to this I trust? Unless you give me something that says you're innocent and I can dig out of the boneyard you're dementor chow as far as I'm concerned."

Sirius gave him a disgusted look. "I'm innocent boy, though the knowledge give me no joy. The animagus part is important though, you came to listen so shut up and do so." The man snarled. "Now, where was I. Right, In our third year. My form was a Barghest, a giant black dog the size of a bear. Lots of ghost stories about them like the churchyard grim but really they're just big dogs with magically extended brains, healing and lifespans. Most of their hype came during the dark ages where they'd get caught by Muggles eating the corpses of the dead, usually plague victims. Got me the name Padfoot; peter wanted to name me corpse breath, but it was 3 to 1 against thank merlin. James took the name Prongs on account of him turning into a forest lord, a giant white stag with between a few dozen and hundred pronged antlers. Supposedly they got powerful nature sorcery but James never learned how to use it or even if it really existed. And finally, Peter, dear bloody fucking Peter…" the man snarled menacingly. "Peter Pettigrew turned into a chupacabra, a large vampiric rat about the size of a wharf rat. They feed on livestock mostly, but they're believed to be the source of Central American vampirism and their blood can be exchanged for most breeds of vampire blood in rituals and potions that call for that kind of thing."

Sirius noted the look of interest and impatience on his audiences face and grimaced. "Now that you've got the backstory we can get to the meat of this whole clusterfuck. In 1980 Sybille Trelawney came to Albus Dumbledore to apply for the recently vacated posting of Divination teacher. Not a bad study divination, Magical art of finding out what other people don't want you to know; only Trelawney was a well-known hack. Whatever the woman might know about the teachable aspects of divination were buried under her obsessive desire to be a seer. Funny thing was she turned out, in that very interview no less, to be a prophetess."

"Forgive me, you're finally getting around to what I want to hear, but I've got to ask, what's the difference between a seer and a prophet?" Eric interrupted.

The silver eyed man raised a brow. "Not much, but at the same time, everything. A seer sees everything that may be depending on any number of factors and, while fallible, usually know what series of events is most likely. They tend to be odd balls with only a loose grasp on the reality of things around them and make up the bulk of reliable fortune tellers. Prophets on the other hand walk in and out of key points in history of every nation offering true and immutable tales of future changes, good or bad, and haven't the slightest shred of control or timing over their powers. On top of that they're usually vague enough that few can comprehend what they're saying until the event has already come to pass. Prophesies that are ignored happen because nobody stopped them, Prophecies that are acted on or fought happen because the person who heard them acted. In the end, they happen and it's rarely pretty. Sybille told Dumbledore that a child would be born at the end of august to parents who had beaten Voldemort three times and that he would be marked as the dark lord's equal. She further went on to explain that the two of them would be fated to kill each other and no one else would be able to succeed."

Sirius snorted and cleared his dry throat. Eric, taking pity on him, formed a ball of water and floated it over to him. The prisoner gave him and strange look before gratefully sucking it down. "Thanks. The thing you have to understand about the war was up until that point we were losing, and badly. I don't really know how to put it in words so you can understand just how bad it was but people were dying left and right. Anyone who stood up to him effectively signed their own death warrants. Dumbledore tried to organize and protect us so we could oppose him properly but the ministry was floundering and very few of us were really trained for combat, let-alone war. Voldemort was poised on the brink of toppling magical Brittan and becoming king publically when the prophesy came out. It seemed like a godsend to us, but there were just two enormous gaping problems. First, Severus Snape, an old rival of ours, was also at that interview and heard half of the prophesy before he was kicked out of the pub by Aberforth, Dumbledores twin brother; and second the statements made in the prophesy pointed to two possible children. Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom."

Sirius grimaced before continuing. "Here's where we get to my betrayal and the truth of the whole Potter situation. Lilly and James were fairly high on Voldemorts list of people to kill and the prophesy just made things worse, so to protect themselves they set up a ritual based ward called the Fidelius charm to protect themselves. This charm can hide anything no matter now great or widely known from the minds and perceptions of the entire world but hinges on caster putting their trust in someone who isn't going to be under the charms protection, a secret keeper. The secret keeper is the charms one weakness and the reason it's so powerful because without the secret keeper the protection is impenetrable, even to Voldemort. We had originally planned for that keeper to be me, but I thought that was too obvious. I was their best and most trusted friend, of course it would be me, and everyone would think so and because of that target me to find the Potters. Instead I suggested that we use Peter in my stead, that way nobody would think to look in the place where the true vulnerability lay. Unfortunately with that argument I handed my best friends over to Voldemort on a silver platter. Peter didn't even last two years before walking into the dark lords office and offering him the Potters for amnesty."

Sirius shook his head, tears falling heavily from his eyes despite his steady raspy voice. "I tried to find the rat bastard when I found out, thought I might at least give him a proper burial, but then I found that he was alive, healthy and completely untortured. He ran and I chased him out into the street. He started screaming my betrayal to the whole world, blasted the street wide open, cut off a finger and vanished into the sewer like the rat he was. Worst bloody day of my life. You know the rest." The man said, emotionally drained.

Eric was silent for a long time, thinking over everything the man had told him. "Petigrews form, you said he'd be a big rat, I assume he'd lose a claw for cutting off that finger?"

"A whole toe, probably," the dirty man replied offhandedly "Animagus forms tend to be very reflective of the person who transforms. I imagine I'd be all shaggy and gaunt if I did so now." He explained.

"Right, and he'd be able to live a human lifespan while transformed, would he? Light brown coat? Dark blue eyes instead of strait black?"

Sirius moved quick as a flash, a manic gleam in his eye as he pressed against the bars. "You've seen him!" the man hissed. "WHERE!? YOU MUST TELL ME!" he howled, shaking the bars violently.

"Don't worry, father." Eric said smoothly, standing up. "Just sit tight and I'll take care of it."

Black froze, staring at him in comprehendingly. "F-father? What? Wait!"

Eric left the man there, screaming questions at him as he disappeared down the hallway.

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Eric didn't even bother returning to the wardens on his way out of the prison. He heard screaming behind the man's door as he passed but judging from the general atmosphere of the place he figured it would easily be a new prisoner the man was bating before tossing them into a cell for the dementors to feed on. One thing he did notice thought as he shot into the sky was how his exit was completely unimpeded by the shadowy fiends which had crowded the halls like beggars in a subway on his way in to see his father. They still infested the keep and the skies outside but instead of eagerly approaching him in hopes of a quick fix they shied away as if he bore the plague.

He laughed as he soared straight up, clearing the field of mist and low hanging storms that shrouded the prison, rising high enough to get a birds eye map of where exactly the prison was so he wouldn't have to go through the same charade next time he wanted to visit. Satisfied of the name of the town he'd sailed from and the bird's eye map he'd drawn in his head he saluted Glasgow and shot off south and west. Eric was headed for Devon; it was time he bought a rat.

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A few hours earlier,

Andromeda Tonks nee Black was a healer at St. Mungos hospital for magical maladies and injuries. A shrewd former Slytherin, she was legendary at the hospital for being able to ferret out the what, why and how of any injury regardless of the patients attempts to obfuscate the source of their latest stupidity. Her sharp intelligence and no nonsense attitude aside, Andromeda was a kind, pleasant woman who generally cared for everyone around her and took a healthy sense of accomplishment home with her after each day of sorting out her fellow wizards. So when her daughter called her and asked her to come home early for dinner, but refused to tell her why, she quickly became concerned.

The fact that little Nymphadora didn't squawk and protest at the use of her full name only made her move faster.

Andromeda grimaced briefly upon arrival, seeing that her daughter had brought home Chinese takeout rather than having their elf, hapi, prepare something but didn't comment. They ate quickly and Dora explained what was going on. The elder woman's mind whirled at the implications of what she'd just been told. Everyone knew her cousin had been a successful and unapologetic womanizer but up to this point there had never been any hints that those liaisons had born anything more than his growing reputation and ego. That she not only had a potential nephew out there but he was going to Azkaban on 'family business' was mind blowing.

"Wait, you said he was walking around your department looking lost?" the healer asked.

"Well, yeah, he was looking for a way into Azkaban and from the looks of it had never been to the Auror office before." Dora answered, her hair turning long and green.

"No hint of the boys' mother anywhere?" she pressed.

"Not that I could see, no. why do you ask?" the metamorph said confused.

Andromeda threw down her food and rushed for the flu. "Because that means a little boy is about to walk straight into a den of monsters!" she shouted as she grabbed a handful of the sparkling green and silver powder. "Ministry of magic, department of corrections!" she shouted and vanished. The younger woman paled at the implications of that statement and quickly followed her mother thought the fire.

After confirming Eric had already been passed through to the prison the two women apparated to the docks at Dunbar and sent a patronus messenger to the ferryman. When they arrived at the wardens office Andromeda quickly asked if a boy had just been there.

"About yay tall, red hair and silver eyes? Yeah, we sent him up to see Black an hour ago, should still be there." Marius Tal replied, unconcerned.

"Could you spare a warden to lead us up there?" Andromeda asked through gritted teeth.

"Sure, take Travers, she's the one that escorted the boy up." He said, waving his hand negligently.

Andromeda froze. "You left him up there alone?!" she shrieked. "He's a little boy in a prison full of psychotic criminals and soul sucking monsters and you left him alone!? You fucking idiot, do you have any idea what you've done? If that boy's been kissed I'll see you locked up on one of these cells for the next century! And that Travers bitch too, for that matter!"

"Now wait just a minute…" the man tried to counter, glowering at the screaming woman in front of him.

"I think not," she snarled, not even bothering to lower the volume "enough minutes have been wasted already! You're going to lead me up there and you better pray that little boy's still got his soul when we get there!"

As they left the office and made for the stairs none of them noticed a short figure with long blood red hair closing the door to the harbor behind him.

Nymphadora and Andromeda charged forward, Patronus owl and weasel leading the way as they dragged Warden Tal along with them, periodically asking which way to turn. As they arrived as the branching corridors of the permanent residents cellblock the released the warden and rushed towards the sounds of screaming, fearing the worst.

What they found was a little different than they'd expected.

Sirius Black was at the bars, crying and screaming incoherent questions down the hall as he shook the Iron door of his cage. When he saw them he straightened up, a manic look in his eyes. "Andi! Thank merlin you're here! Did you see a boy, looked like me but short with red hair?" the man asked desperately, voice ragged.

"No," she replied shaking her head, pushing aside her disgust at the man before her "that's who we came looking for. The dementors didn't get him did they?"

"What? No, he did something to one of them and hey scattered like flies, you can probably see it down the hall. But that's not important; god Andi, we have so much to talk about..."

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It took Eric a full day to find the Weasleys. Flying from Glasgow to southern Devon was no simple task and having only a vague idea of the geography of his destination made finding the Weasley family a slow and relatively painful process. Eventually he found his way to the river otter by questioning the locals and made his way up to the sleepy little farming town of St Catchpole. The weather was nice and Eric found the Burrow shortly after lunch.

It was by far the oddest looking house Eric had ever seen, built like the pictures of the ramshackle slum apartments of New Guinea, the tower could easily have been built by some giant toddler stacking blocks one on top of the other and from the lack of support structures the dark redhead was certain the place was being held up by magic rather than material. Seeing a trio of flaming redhead in the backyard throwing things Eric swooped in for a landing.

"Well now, what"

"do we have here?"

"A friend? A visitor,"

"who doesn't call"

"or write? One"

"might think you"

"didn't like us"

"anymore Eric."

Ron and Eric looked at the twins for a moment. "Why do you two have to be so weird?" Ron asks before turning to walk away while Eric stares after him grimacing.

"Don't worry about him too much mate." George says, grabbing Eric's shoulder.

"He'll come around eventually" agreed Fred. "He's just jealous."

George nodded sagely. "He thinks you stole his chance to stand out from the rest of us when he and Harry split over Hermione."

Eric hummed noncommittally. "Did he manage to make any friends afterwards? I know with his general attitude Harry was all he'd managed when I finally threw him out of class, never bothered to care after that."

Fred shrugged. "Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan from what I've been able to see. Though they're less friends than simply friendly."

"We're still kind of mad at you for that by the way," George spoke up. "I mean, the stupid burke deserved some of it, but he's still our kid brother."

"SO!" Fred spoke loudly, immediately changing the subject, "it's not that we don't want you here,"

"but why are you here, teach?" George grinned.

Eric looked at the two of them and grimaced. "This is going to sound a little weird," he said glancing back at the house where Ron was opening the door to go inside "But I need Ron's rat Scabbers." He took out his pouch and pulled out a piece of paper and 29 galleons. "I was going to buy the little monster from him but given how he still hates me I have a feeling that's going to be difficult."

"Yeah," the twins nod, "probably. Why do you want the rat? It's just a fat old garden rat aint it?"

"No garden rat lives 13 years and is still healthy." Eric said looking at them. "There are other markers as well, the spines on the bottom of its feet, dark blue eyes and instead of black or red, the sharp pointy teeth, how it's as big as a wharf rat… It's a Chupacabra and I'm willing to pay for it." He explained, holding up the cash.

The pair of them looked at the gold longingly but nodded. "Never thought scabbers would be useful like that." George groaned.

"Kind of makes you wish we'd taken him off Percy when he got that owl last summer, don't it, o brother mine?" Fred frowned sadly.

They started walking towards the house and Eric changed the subject. "So, you guys got any relatives? You only ever mentioned Bill and Charlie at school."

"Yeah," one of the twins replied over his shoulder, "Dads got six brothers, but most of them are dead from the last war so we don't talk about them much."

"Mum had two older brothers as well," said the other "Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Think we've got a second cousin as well, but mum refuses to talk about him."

"Dad said he was a muggle accountant once, but mum shut him up but good. Cooking was horrible all week."

Eric nodded, taking that all in as they passed through the door. "Nice kitchen." He remarked, looking around at the ordered chaos of pots and pans.

"That's very kind dear," came a voice from the doorway to another room. It was a large woman with very frizzy red hair and rosy cheeks. She was wearing worn tattered brown robes and a shawl, no hat though. "I suppose you're Eric?" She asked, voice sweet, but lips pursed.

"Yes, ma'am. I get the impression you've not heard much complimentary about me." The small boy said, dipping his head briefly.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Not from Ronald, but the letters from the twins were glowing. You will forgive me if I didn't find that entirely reassuring."

Fred and George looked at each other in mock outrage. "Dear woman, you wound us! What have we ever done to deserve such lack of confidence?"

Mrs. Weasleys smile became genuine for a second as she looked down on her two boys before a gentle smirk replaced the expression. "Would you prefer the list in alphabetical order or chronological?"

Fred blew a raspberry "Come on dear brother mine, I can see when we're not wanted."

"Our rooms on the fifth floor when you're done with iccle wanwan." George said to Eric as the pair of them bounded off. "We've got some stuff that'll blow your mind."

Eric nodded and made to follow them up the stairs but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He suppressed a growl, he was in someone else's home after all, and not as a thief this time either, best to be polite. "Mrs. Weasley?"

"Mr. Stark I'll be very frank with you, I don't like you and if it weren't for Fred and George I'd use the wards to banish you. My children are deeply important to me and you've made one of my youngest son's life hell for the last nine months. If your business with Ronald hurts him in any way you had best pray whatever dark sorceries you are teaching my boys will protect you." The woman's face was flat and her hair somehow more wild that before. Eric noted the fire in her eyes and the sparks leaking from her wand and nodded in respect.

"There's nothing dark about what I've been teaching my classes, Mrs. Weasley." Eric returned calmly "it's really the purest form of magic there is. You probably did it yourself when you were a kid, before meeting Mr. Ollivander about your wand. I just show them how to do it intentionally." Eric heaved a sigh; he'd been doing that an awful lot since joining the wizarding world it seemed. "As for your youngest, he made a point early on to insult me, belittle my friends and try to drive a wedge between me and everyone I'd ever more than glanced at. I didn't set out to hurt him, but I won't apologize for how things went down."

The woman took that in with only the slightest softening in her gaze. "Ronald always has been a little insensitive" She allowed. It wasn't much but unless he wanted a full on battle he'd take what he could get. "And your business with him today?"

"He has possession of a particular magical pet I'd very much like to acquire and have come to buy it from him. I imagine he'd be pleased to have the money for a proper wand and things for school." The woman looked at him confused for a moment before nodding and stepping out of his way.

"Ron's room is at the top of the stairs, just below the attic. Be polite." With that he was dismissed as the woman began to bustle around, pulling a variety of foodstuffs and crockery out for use. Eric started up the steps and took off once he was out of sight.

It took him a few seconds to drift up the winding disjointed tower but soon the silver eyed boy was knocking on an orange door. It was opened briefly to reveal a brilliant orange furnace before the slightly taller carrot top slammed it in his face. Eric knocked again and waited for several minutes. After another attempt he rolled his eyes and called on his power. Shaping the plum flames to his intent he projected his image into the boys room.

You're not going to get away from me that easily Ronald. Eric projected his mental voice and matched with motion from his projection. There was the sound of footsteps and a crash on the far wall. Eric winced; obviously the pratt thought he was actually in the room with him. Eric sighed. It was a real pity his search in the Hogwarts library for real divination had thus far been a failure, this would be so much easier if he could see and hear what was going on in there.

…then again; the book Penny had shown him on Legillimancy near the end of the year had detailed how wizards used the spell to imitate his art in a forceful manner, that instead of organizing a mind they entered into concepts they took hold of the thoughts and memories and sorted thought them raw. To the untrained it felt as if they were reminiscing about things unrelated to their personal line of thought, to the trained it was like being raped. Pretty easy to see why it was looked down upon. The concept did however afford him a unique opportunity, using legillimancy rather than his own approach to mind magic, he could potentially look through someone else's eyes, in this case Ronald Weasley.

I'm not here to hurt of make fun of you Ronald he sent again, this time trying to strip his probe of his normal preconceptions and simply watch the flow of the boys mind as vision became thought and then memory. I just want to talk for a bit. Some quick business and I'll be out of your hair.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" came through the door. Eric shrugged; it was a start at least.

"Not in the least." He returned simply. "I know that'd be too much to ask given our history. That doesn't make it any less true."

The orange door opened a crack and Ron's eye poked out of the gap. "What do you want?" he spat. Eric held out a golden coin and the boy's hand flashed out like a cobra to grab it. "Cor…" Ron said as he held the Galleon up to the light. Eric grinned; the door was open now, in more ways than one.

"Mind if I come in?" Eric asked, fighting to keep the smugness out of his voice. The other redhead glared at him, but nodded. The darker boy pulled out a small leather bag and began tossing it up and down, watching as the lighter boys eyes followed its movement and twitched as it clinked with gold each time he caught it. "I'd like to buy scabbers." He told the blue eyed menace simply, snatching the coin purse out of the air with a snap. "And I'm quite willing to pay for his sentimental value." He said, slowly and methodically tossing coins onto the boys bed as he spoke. "Hogwarts allows students to bring any pet they want after first year so long as it's presence won't harm your fellow students." He said, speaking softly and trying not to antagonize the boy. If he wanted that Rat he'd have to play this much more carefully than usual. He wasn't particularly concerned about dealing with Ron, or even Mrs. Wesley down stairs, but if his father was telling the truth he didn't want the traitor suspecting anything until it could be secured. "You could also buy yourself a new wand, one that's properly suited to you and will actually respond to your magic." He said as he got to the19th coin. "And shiny new school supplies or robes and what not."

The boy looked between him and the gold shrewdly. "If you wand Scabbers so bad that you'd sink this low, he must be pretty valuable." He said, taking the sleeping rodent from a hidden burrow on a shelf and holding it close. "Why shouldn't I ask for more?" he said, stroking the thing. "Payback for all the shit you pulled last year."

Eric levitated the gold back into the bag in stream of coins. "I guess if you don't want the gold…" he said, walking towards the door.

"NO!" Ron lurched forward suddenly and Eric stopped, halfway through opening the door to leave. "Fine, you can have the rat, just give me the bag, alright?" he said, holding out both hands separately, one empty and one holding a now very awake rat. Eric tossed him the bag of jingling coins and summoned the Rat as it fell from the boys grip.

"A pleasure doing business with you" He said abruptly leaving, the oversized vermin clutched in a vice like telekinetic grip. Reaching the next landing he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the creature. "Ostendo sum Verto" he encanted off the torn page of Blaise's animagus transfiguration manual, moving his wand in the specified pattern and jabbing it at the rat. It glowed red instead of blue, signifying he was at least partially correct in his assumptions and hadn't just wasted 29 galleons. Scanning further down the page and ignoring the now screaming rat, Eric began waving his wand again. "Solvo mutatio" He said in clipped Latin. There was a blue-white flash and the animal before him started writing like it was being tortured before expanding and melting, its form changing shape and color rapidly into that of a corpulent man with thick greasy brown hair, a pinched face and prominent front teeth.

"Hello, Peter." Eric said, gaze turning dark as the rat-like man flinched at his name.

"W-who are you?" the man asked, still floating in midair.

"Your worst nightmare," The boy hissed "the caring son of a man you betrayed." Eric tried to clamp down on his emotions as Black Fire began to flow across his head and shoulders. "Return to being a rat, I don't want to see your face." The man was whimpering something about Lilly and James so he probably hadn't figured it out but the man complied with the order anyways. When he was done Eric gathered the dirt from the floor of the landing he was standing on and transfigured it into a thin metal wire which he began wrapping the rodent in like the netting on a Christmas tree.

"This is a thin durable material the muggles call razor wire." He explained to the Rat as he continued to wrap and tie knots around the creatures' torso and limbs. "It's strong enough that as single strand of it could hold a person suspended without breaking and thin enough that trying to hold onto it will easily cut the flesh. So long as you remain a rat and don't struggle you'll be fine," Eric said with a nasty grin "but if you try transforming it will cut you up like a Christmas turkey. And no, you won't be able to transform it with you, the reason I'm not using my magic to truss you up is because I made it out of pig iron, one of the most nonconductive metals known to magic." Eric was exaggeration on some of that, but Pettigrew didn't need to know that…

His job accomplished he stuffed the Rat in his coat pocket and headed for Fred and Georges room, not even noticing the door off to the side close quietly.

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Eric stayed to talk to Fred and George only a few minutes before leaving. They were apparently trying to collect and catalogue their list of pranking materials into a catalogue of saleable products for their dream of opening a joke shop after school and wanted to see if he had any ideas they might look into. He left them with his original first edition of the Dungeon Masters guide. It would be interesting to see what they made of it.

As soon as he was out the door Eric lifted off, throwing a salute to an open mouthed Molly and Arthur Weasley before shooting off into the sky. Eric apparated to London as soon as he was a good distance away from the Weasley's house and wards; he wasn't sure what all they had, but If Molly thought she could threaten him with them he didn't want to be anywhere near them when he was trying to pull his body through a miniature wormhole.

Arriving in the ministry atrium with a small whump of displaced air Eric joined the flow of people in and out of the ministry. Heading to the second level he walked into the Aurors headquarters. After questioning a few passing employees Eric found himself in front of Rufus Scrimgeour office. He caught the man as he was coming back from a late lunch. When Eric asked if he could meet with the man privately Mr. Scrimgeour gave him an odd look before replying "You can explain while I eat," he said, holding up a bag of Chinese takeout "and it better be good or I'll bury you in red tape so deep you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can walk around without a security escort."

Eric followed the grim faced man in and closed the door. "Mr. Scrimgeour, what do you know about the Black/Pettigrew case from the end of the last war?"

"Just the basics, Black betrayed the Potters to the dark lord, Pettigrew confronted him about it and Black blew him and a street full of muggles to mush with an overcharged blasting curse." The older man replied around mouthfuls of beef and broccoli. "I assume you have a point and aren't just wasting my time and patience bringing up dead cases?"

"What if I were to tell you that Peter Pettigrew was not only alive, but an unregistered animagus to boot?" Eric countered.

"I would tell you to get out of my office and stop bothering me or demand to see your proof." The head Auror replied, taking another bite from the box.

Eric pulled the rat out of his coat pocket and levitated it in front of the desk. Carefully unwrapping the wire that held the creature bound Eric asked. "I assume you know the animagus revealing spell?" the redhead asked, a quartet of small white things appearing in his palm before being stuffed into a pocket.

Rufus nodded, suddenly sitting up and staring at the rat intently. "How are you doing that?" Scrimgeour asked as Eric finished unstringing Peter.

"Wandless magic, when I'm running heavy on emotions things I want to happen, do" Eric lied glibly. "Right now I want peter to be visible and restrained, thus the floating."

"Right. You know you could just take this to the animagus registry on the other side of the building, right?" Scrimgeour asked, silently casting the animagus revealing charm on the struggling rodent.

"And deprive you of the ability to stage the arrest and take credit for it?" Eric shook his head. "I want my father out of prison by the end of the summer Mr. Scrimgeour, this bastard escaping is not part of that plan."

"Your father?" Rufus asked, casting the animagus reversal charm on the squealing creature. They both watched intently as Peter Pettigrew, still looking very much like his animagus form, grew out of the floating animal, his lower arms and legs oddly limp. It took only a few moments looking back and forth between them for the man to figure it out. "You're Sirius Blacks kid." He said accusingly.

"Guilty as charged." Eric said bowing slightly. "I went to see him soon as I found out. Figured I'd ask him why he destroyed my best friend's life so I could hate him in peace, confident I was nothing like the man. Then he told me a story that made far too much sense and offered me an avenue of investigation. That's how I found Peter."

Rufus Scrimgeour leaned back and looked at the boy, a thoughtful expression his face. "Not bad, assuming this checks out I might even call you a shoe in for a Auror training." The dirty blond leaned forward and tapped his wand to his temple and something white flew out. A minute later another Auror came into the office and Rufus handed him a piece of paper he'd taken that minute to fill out. "Max, take this to requisitions, I want a small vial of veritaserum. Tell them I need it yesterday." The man nodded and hustled off.

"Veritaserum?" Eric asked.

"A truth potion, one of our strongest." The head of the Aurors explained. "The American's made a better one a few decades ago but getting stock from the colonial's is like pulling teeth and the company that sells it enchants their vials so that it can't be examined and copied."

Eric nodded at this and fell silent. "Why isn't he saying anything?" Eric looked up startled to see Scrimgeour frowning at Eric's prisoner. "I knew this lump back in school and he never rightly shut up, always whining or mewling after that bully James Potter like some sick fan-boy."

"Oh," Eric replied, pausing for a second and looking at Pettigrew. "I suppose I should ease up on him, he's probably having trouble breathing too." At a look from Rufus Eric explained, "He's being held up by my magic pressing against him. He's probably too constricted to talk, aside from that, I don't particularly want to listen to him, so my magic's likely responding to that."

The auror nodded at that. "You must be a very powerful young man to do all that, especially for as long as we've been sitting here." He said, trying to sound offhand.

"Thanks." Eric replied brightly. It was a trick he'd used often enough to get people to say more than they should, he would be damned if he fell for it without reason.

The man frowned at him again but let it drop. Max returned shortly with another pair of Aurors, wands in hand and stood along the wall. Witnesses to an interrogation Eric guessed. As the three drips slid down Wormtails throat his eyes grew glassy and Eric released him.

"What is your name?" Rufus Scrimgeour asked, taking charge of the interrogation.

"Peter Nickolas Pettigrew."

"When were you born?"

"March 16th 1960."

"Were you friends with James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin?"

"They were my protectors."

There was a round of glances between the auror's and Eric wondered what they were all thinking before the questions continued.

"Was Sirius Black the Potters secret keeper?" Rufus continued, acting on the information Eric had provided.

"Yes, when the spell was first cast."

The auror's nodded and Rufus gave Eric a pointed look. "Were you the Potters secret keeper in the year preceding their death?" Eric spoke up loudly.

"Yes." There was a ripple of shock among the three standing by the wall and a tightening of the head auror's eyes.

"I will be doing the questioning Mr. Stark." he said tightly. "When did the Potters change the secret keeper from Black to you?"

"A week after Lilly cast the spell."

"Why?"

"So Sirius would remain a target while the keeper stayed safe."

"Did you betray the Potters to the dark lord?"

"Yes."

"Did Sirius Black kill the muggles on the street the day you disappeared?"

"No."

"Who did?"

"I cast a reductor on the street."

"How did you escape? We only found your finger."

Peter looked as if he was struggling for a moment, his face contorting and he spoke haltingly "I cut it off when I framed Sirius Black for my death. I escaped into the sewers."

"I think we're done here." Scrimgeour said. "The potions wearing off and we've got everything we need." He turned to Eric. "Thank you for letting us keep this quiet Mr. Black, you'll have your father back in time to go shopping for school supplies."

"Thank you Mr. Scrimgeour, if there's anything you need to speed the investigation along, just send me an owl."

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