Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Arthur A. Levine Books. Inuyasha is the property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakuken, and Viz Media. I am not them, and as such make no money from this venture.
"We will be eating lunch elsewhere," Sesshōmaru informed them as they finished breakfast.
Shippō looked surprised for a moment, before nodding. "Casual clothing, then?"
The lord inclined his head and gestured for Harry to accompany him to the dojo. As soon as the dishes were cleared, Shippō ducked into the boy's room to set out an appropriate outfit. He wrinkled his nose at how domestic he was being these days but, really, Harry was a good kid. Another year or so and Shippō could probably even start teaching him to mimic kitsune tricks. The thought cheered him up immensely. It had been too long since Shō had taken an interest in anything other than the shops, as well. Even Inuyasha had noticed and that was no mean feat.
Checking the time, and cocking an ear down the hall to be sure the other two would be a while yet, Shippō reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sheaf of what looked to be crude paper dolls. Kneeling, he pulled three from the stack and laid them gently on the floor. A thin brush and covered inkstone appeared from another pocket and the kitsune used them to scrawl a very specific set of characters onto the little bodies. Grinning faintly, he proceeded to whisper instructions on yōki-infused breath. Slowly, but gaining speed by the second, the paper dolls stood and grew until they were roughly fifty centimeters tall. Without delay, they began to pack up most of Harry's clothing and toys. Shippō watched for a moment to make sure they were doing their jobs properly before heading into the study to bundle up some of the boy's lessons. Just because they'd be at the Suite this afternoon didn't mean he couldn't get some practice in.
There was no real reason for Shippō to keep his tricks hidden, but they hadn't really had time to sit down and explain the differences between yōki and the type of magic Harry could do. They'd told little Potter that he needed to get through some basic studies before he could learn anything more complicated, which magic certainly was. Plus there was the matter of his instructor to settle. Shō had only given him a brief summary of the man he'd pulled from the horrendous island the wizards called Azkaban, but the kitsune was hopeful that Lord Black would consent to the terms Sesshōmaru would lay out this afternoon. Tradition was important to yōkai and wizards alike, after all, and the man would be much better than books at teaching that side of things. Darting back down the hall to check on his paper-mononoke, the kitsune snickered to himself. Black and White, huh? Couldn't have planned better myself.
ooo
Harry tried hard not to stare as he was led into what Shippō had told him was called the Suite. He'd then asked, of course, what the rooms above the shop were named and was told laughingly that so long as Sesshōmaru occupied them, they were simply 'home.' The Suite was much more elaborate than the simple wood floors and clean lines of home and, even though it was beautiful here, he missed the warm comfort of their Oxford Street rooms.
A silent butler had met them at the front door, bowing slightly as they swept in and the two yōkai dropped their disguises. With barely a gesture, the quartet was moving down the hall where the butler waved them through a set of open doors leading to an airy dining room. Harry tilted his head as he spotted another man standing by one of the tall windows. The man straightened, turning as they entered, and Harry could have sworn the stranger froze for the briefest moments when his grey eyes swept over him but the moment was gone and the man stepped around the table to give a sweeping, elaborate bow that he suspected was more than half in jest. "Sirius Black, the Lord Black of Black," he introduced with a smile.
Tipping his head towards Sesshōmaru, Lord Black gestured faintly with his chin. "Who's the redhead?"
Shippō stepped forward and bowed slightly. "I am the Inu no Taisa," he grinned cheekily and slipped Harry a wink. "But you can call me Shippō."
Sirius still looked a little confused, so the kitsune gave a more genial smile and explained. "I act as the Inu no Taishō's aide and advisor. Technically I'm also the ambassador from the Southern Court, but that's only because the last one... didn't work out," he finished with a little wince.
"Didn't work out?"
"I do not share the Southern Lord's rather high opinion of his wife's brothers," Sesshōmaru blandly interjected.
There was a beat of silence before Sirius barked a rusty laugh. Turning his attention to the shortest member of their gathering, however, he sobered quickly. Harry straightened minutely and tried to emulate Sesshōmaru's stoicism as he introduced himself. "Harry Potter, Lord Sesshōmaru's ward."
The man gave a slow, sad nod. "I am aware."
Harry looked up at Sesshōmaru inquiringly. The inuyōkai obliged with a tip of his chin. "Lord Black knew your parents quite well. Due to circumstances outside his control, he was unable to care for you until I retrieved him."
Harry glanced between the two lords with shock and a creeping awe. Sesshōmaru continued with only the barest pause. "If there are no objections, he will accompany us and instruct you in human magics. Lord Black," he added, seeing Harry glance back at the wizard and smile tentatively, "is capable of becoming a dog as well."
That sealed the deal. Bright green eyes widened impossibly as he looked up at Sirius pleadingly. "Will you teach me? Please?" he begged.
The man chuckled softly, still rusty but unavoidable in the face of his best friend's son's pleading. "You have to master a lot of other things before we can see what your animagus form is. It might not be a dog, even. Your father was a stag."
Harry looked confused for a second, little black brows tipping down before he smoothed it away with a grin and turned to the kitsune beside him. "Well, a fox is okay too, right Shippō? With lots of tails?"
The redhead ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "You're too young to have more than one, kit."
The boy pouted a little but perked up almost immediately, turning back to Sirius, completely missing the way he'd watched their interaction with more than a little wistfulness and regret. "Can we have a lesson right now?"
A faint shift of Sesshōmaru's sleeve in the corner of his eye had him correcting himself before the wizard had a chance to form an answer. "I mean, may we please have a lesson right now, Lord Black?"
Sirius shook his head with a rueful smile. "Your lord and his advisor might be able to do magic without a wand, but most wizards need one. Any lessons will have to wait. Besides," he winked as the maid appeared in the doorway with a covered cart, "I think it's time for lunch."
ooo
Remus Lupin couldn't stop himself from pacing his living room. The flat he was renting was small, on the outskirts of London proper, but it was the best he could afford on his meagre salary. He hadn't heard anything from Moody since the Order meeting, but the werewolf knew the old Auror would contact him when there was more substantial information than rumors and hearsay. Right now he was waiting on Minerva so that they could go over their options regarding Harry. What he was younger, Remus never would have thought the no-nonsense Transfiguration teacher would do anything that ran counter to the Headmaster's plans, but then he'd seen her shout Albus down in Order meetings when she thought he was taking too much risk with other peoples' lives. Remus had realised then that the stern disapproval that so many young Gryffindors - and her students in general - wasn't reserved for those she taught and, in fact, was even fiercer when applied to those she felt had the experience to know better.
A brisk knock snapped him out of his restless musings, and he checked the peephole to see his ex-professor standing primly in the hallway, observing her surroundings with mild distaste. He unlocked the door, opening it with his drawn wand hidden behind his body just in case, and invited the Scotswoman in.
"Would you like some tea, Professor? I'd offer to take your cloak, but I'm actually rather grateful you didn't wear one." He gave a wry smile. "Some of my neighbors can be quite the busybodies."
Minerva gave him a stern look at the address, but it melted into a smile as she swept inside. "Yes, I had a feeling Muggle clothing would be a bit more appropriate. Tea would be lovely, Remus, thank you."
They made small talk as he fixed the pot. Boiling water in his little electric kettle may have taken a bit longer, but he'd always thought it tasted better than magically heating it. When they both had a steaming mug in their hands and settled in his two worn but comfortable armchairs, they got down to business.
"Did you know about Harry's living situation?" Remus questioned tightly.
The Deputy Headmistress sighed. "I guessed that it would be bad, but not like this."
The werewolf visibly bristled at her admission, but she held up a hand to stall his recriminations. "I watched the house for a day, Mr. Lupin, and what I saw did not give me confidence. The husband was off early for work but the wife simply gossiped about the neighbors all day as she stuffed all manner of unsuitable foods into her child. I thought that the Harry Potter we would see six years from now would be soft-bellied, vindictively snide, and quite likely terminally lazy. Possibly even a bully. I did not expect the Dursleys to swing the opposite way and treat the child so badly he would bolt."
Remus settled back, taking a fortifying sip of his tea. Minerva sighed again and toyed with her own untouched mug. "Albus assured me it was the safest place for him but as adults, our definition of the word is often much different than that of the children we seek to protect."
He felt the wolf's instincts buck at the resignation in her tone. "And the Headmaster wants to return him to that place once he's been found," he snarled.
"He does," she murmured, eyes distant and sad.
"Well I won't do it, Minerva!" Remus nearly slammed his mug down on the low table between them. Running his hands through his hair, he took to pacing again to relieve some of his agitation. "Dumbledore ordered me to stay away once and now that he wants my help I refuse to let Harry slip through my fingers again! If I find James and Lily's son, I won't hand him back over to the Dursleys, no matter what the Headmaster's done for me in the past."
"Pacem, Remus. I agree entirely."
"I mean, I'm grateful for-" He stuttered to a stop, swinging around to pin his guest with shock in his amber eyes. "Y-you agree?"
Minerva nodded primly, finally sipping at her tea. "If Harry felt the need to escape that horrid household, then it only proves me right. They were the worst sort of Muggles, just not in the way I had originally thought."
She pinned him with a stern look, waving the younger man back to his seat. "I wish I hadn't been right, of course, but all we can do now is try to find the boy and make sure he's safe. This lord... It's a shame we couldn't have met him before he took custody, but what's done is done. That is something Albus has always had trouble accepting."
Remus gave a wry chuckle, sinking back into his armchair. "It's not usually a bad thing."
The aged professor smiled fondly in agreement. "No, not usually. Now, tell me what you were going to write to those lawyers and I'll see if it needs any work."
"Wha-? How-?" He spluttered for a moment. "How did you know I planned to write them?"
She replied with a mildly disappointed look. "You just told me you wouldn't let the boy slip through your fingers and now you're saying you won't be writing to our only guaranteed contact? I may be getting old, Mr. Lupin," she snapped, "but I am certainly not getting stupid."
Remus chuckled, blushing under the reprimand, and ducked into the bedroom to snag the half-completed letter from his messy desk. With the backing of one of the few professors who could out-stubborn Albus Dumbledore and the shadow support of one of the most successful Aurors the Ministry had ever seen, the werewolf felt hope surge in his chest in a way it hadn't since James and Lily had died. He may be barred from adopting his best friends' child, but he'd be doubly damned before he was cut from the boy's life again without a fight.
ooo
While Shippō distracted Harry with lessons in the parlour, the two lords retreated to the study to cover the specifics of their arrangement. They settled in their seats in a less hostile parody of Dursley's visit, the butler silently serving tea before withdrawing. Silence reigned for the first few minutes, broken only by the clink of china as they each sampled the fine blend.
"I took the liberty of posting your letter," Sesshōmaru began, voice dark and smooth.
Sirius started, nearly spilling his drink as he looked up at the inuyōkai with wild grey eyes. "You what?" he spluttered.
"Since you do not currently have access to anything outside these walls, your letter was passed on to me. I arranged for it to be sent by your wizards' usual means, as there was no accompanying address." One fine silver brow rose. "Was this not your intention when you left it on your dinner tray last night?"
"Yeah, no," he groaned, "I'm wasn't even sure I was ever going to send it."
Sesshōmaru shrugged minutely as if to say 'what's done is done' and set his cup aside to slide a long piece of parchment across the desk. "Now that my ward has agreed, here is the formal contract for your services."
Sirius read through the document thoroughly, his grandfather's lectures on loopholes and hidden compulsions and forfeits ringing in the back of his mind. After several long minutes, he set it back on the desk, meeting the impassive golden gaze across from him with much more ease than he felt. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head reluctantly. "I cannot accept these terms."
The young Lord Black knew he'd be bargaining from the lesser position, but the contract as it stood had the power to cripple him in a way Azkaban could never hope to. There was a flash of fangs so quick it might have been imagined, but he shoved it aside and gamely forged on. "I will not give up my name - the Black title, duties and holdings - for the mere attempt at gaining me a trial and possibly my freedom. The Black name carries a weight in wizarding society that can change more than just the lives of Harry and myself, even when not used to the capacity I could were I a free man."
He sighed faintly, trying for calm. "That doesn't even touch on this tentative teaching-specific position with my godson. Once he's learned everything I know, will you remove me from his life? Without my name, a future such as that would ruin me more than losing Harry forever."
Sesshōmaru watched him in silence before inclining his head a fraction, the shadow of approval hovering behind his cool assessment. The parchment was withdrawn and another pressed forward. One pale, clawed hand prevented Sirius from reaching for it immediately. The inuyōkai's smooth voice drew his attention from the new document. "The decision to continue associating with you once you are no longer his teacher lies with my ward. I should hope that scenario is years from now, unless you allow your own knowledge to stagnate."
The wizard barely stopped himself from grinning in relief. Hopefully Harry would let him visit long after he needed the animagus for lessons. He'd certainly have at least the next few years to get in the boy's good graces as they got to know each other better.
The lord continued, seemingly unaware of his guest's thoughts. "As for your title, this Sesshōmaru is singularly uninterested in claiming it. Under the terms of this contract," his nails clicked once across the document in question, "the same trio of lawyers seeing to my ward's properties would take over the daily management of your assets until you express interest in resuming those duties. The wording is such as to allow ample time for not only your innocence to be proven in the human court of law, but also to provide you with the oppourtunity to recover from your false imprisonment and give my ward several years of uninterrupted tuition. All large decisions would still pass through your hands, but daily maintenance and minor issues would follow a set of guidelines approved beforehand."
Sirius felt the main bulk of the tension between his shoulderblades uncoil. Picking up the new contract when Sesshōmaru removed his hand to gather up his tea again, he read it through twice to be sure the inuyōkai spoke the truth. Finally, with a faint grin, he set it down again and leaned over the desk, ignoring the fountain pen placed near the edge. Concentrating as he'd been taught as soon as he was named heir, the wizard called for his signet ring. It appeared on his finger as though it had never been taken, and Sirius was just shy of gleeful as he pressed its familiar weight to the parchment in lieu of his signature. Magic swirled, heady after so long a drought, and the pitch-coloured Seal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black formed beneath his hand.
Sesshōmaru's mouth was open slightly when he glanced up again and it took a moment for the animagus to realise he was scenting the power in the air. Without a word, the pale lord pressed a slim block of jade beside the signet ring's imprint. A bloom of unfamiliar power, just as intoxicating to Sirius' senses, and the crimson Seal of the House of the West formed, completing their contract.
The inuōykai rolled the parchment and set it aside with little fanfare. "Now that that is settled, please make a list of what you will require in order to teach my ward. Priority should be given to that which cannot be obtained outside of Britain. We leave for the United States tomorrow afternoon, barring any further delays."
Black shrugged off the pressing departure date. "When will I be able to talk to these lawyers of yours? Some matters of family business should probably be cleared up as soon as possible."
"Can they be done from foreign soil?"
He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. The goblins had a presence nearly everywhere, after all. In answer, Sesshōmaru laid his fingers on a delicate figurine Sirius had taken for a paperweight. The carved mongoose seemed to twist briefly before settling back down. "They will meet us in Atlanta," the pale lord informed him simply.
Feeling much more light-hearted than he had since his imprisonment, Sirius nodded and thanked his host before excusing himself. He'd take all the time he could get learning about the child his godson had become in his absence. Getting to know the redheaded minder wasn't such a bad idea either. The kid looked like he could pull a prank, and the Marauder in him very much liked to befriend anyone who shared his first love.
ooo
"What have you found, Severus?"
Albus had accepted his Potion Master's invitation for a chess game after dinner - a thinly veiled request for a chat - and they sat in comfortable chairs before the fire. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Snape gestured helplessly at the small table set between them. It was overflowing with parchments covered in the younger man's sharp handwriting, weighed down with obscure books and scrolls.
"Not much I can readily confirm, Albus, but enough to know you won't be able to force anything from this lord he doesn't want."
Dumbledore frowned lightly, not yet ready to believe that assessment. "What do you mean?"
Severus sighed and stood, pacing over to his small liquor cabinet and withdrawing a particularly well-aged whiskey. Pouring himself a good measure, he turned and eyed his employer shrewdly from across the room. After a moment, he raised his glass, turning his attention to the amber glow of candlelight through his drink. "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' He's not human," he finished flatly, tossing the whiskey back.
"All the more reason to get Harry back. I may not approve of the current creature laws, but surely-"
Severus cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Oh, he won't fall under any of those, Albus. The closest wizard you could compare him to would be an animagus."
Bushy white eyebrows rose, and the Headmaster settled back in his seat to stroke his beard. After a moment, he questioned lightly, "Unregistered?"
The Potions Master snorted and poured himself another drink. "Like an animagus, not is."
Sweeping back to the little table, the younger man dug his copy of the letter out from the pile of parchment. Heavily annotated - in red, of course - he thrust it at Dumbledore impatiently. "I suppose it was too much to ask for you to translate his title on your own."
The older man frowned again, accepting the missive and skimming the additions. Absently, he remarked, "His titles were in English; there was nothing to translate."
The sneer on Severus' face, when Dumbledore glanced back up, was of the kind normally reserved for Marauders and particularly dense seventh year Gryffindors. "Inu no Taishō isn't his name," he bit out scathingly. "It's his position."
The Headmaster glanced back down to the notation beside the closing address. "'The Great Dog General?' I confess I've never heard a title like it," he admitted.
Severus threw himself into his chair and stared into the fire with a moody shrug. He nursed his whiskey as Albus carefully reread the letter and all its annotations. After a long silence, he sighed. "What do you recommend?"
"Write the lawyers and do whatever they tell you," the younger man replied testily, finishing his second drink.
The Headmaster rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "And if they tell us to leave poor, young Harry with this... dog? I cannot condone such a thing."
"You aren't listening, Albus," the Potions Master ground out, wandlessly banishing his glass so his hands were free to emphasise his point. "The title is literal. He's not just a dog, he's the dog! As far as I can find, the man is over a thousand years old, and the father he inherited his title from didn't exactly die of old age. There is nothing you can do except what he allows."
Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully and stood, setting Severus' copy of the letter back on top of the teetering mound of research. Just as he reached the door, Snape called out to him again. "If you ignore what I've told you, I'm not responsible for the consequences. We never had this conversation."
Once the door clicked shut, Severus summoned the whiskey from the sideboard and a photo from his desk. Taking a deep pull from the bottle, he eyed the picture solemnly. "You won't make me a fool a third time, Albus."
