RIDERS ON THE STORM
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Kuroshitsuji or its characters, but this story is mine /evil grin/.
Summary: He was tortured by the Dark side. The Light side betrayed him. Now he's back, but not alone. Watch out, Wizarding World, because two butlers from Hell are pissed.
Shout Out: Yo. Back from the hospital, with a freshly done chapter. Thank you for your comments and reviews, they made my day when I was confined to the bed and loopy with painkillers. You guys and gals rock... seriously. And thank you for a poem, whoever wrote it, it amused me enough to get my creative juices flowing. The next chapter is in works, but it may be some time before I throw it out to you, Real Life Prerogative.
Warnings: Introduction of the Order of the Charred Chicken - ahem, Phoenix.
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
("Riders On The Storm", by The Doors)
A week had passed since Dumbledore's somewhat successful visit to one Antares Carruthers and his entourage. In the meantime, there were some talks back and forth, as he tried to convince the youth that living with Sirius was the best and safest option - without his butlers, of course, but much to his dismay, he had to give a couple of concessions to the stone-eyed youth.
One of them, and also the most noticeable was to have his two… servants - butlers, as they preferred to be called, with him. The centenarian wizard tried to twist out of this particular deal with saying that Grimmauld Place was too small, what with all the people housed within, but Michaelis pointed out that this was a bald-faced lie - politely, of course, as the Blacks in the peak of their power, could house at least three times the entire entourage that was now housed within, and politely asked just why would it be a problem to house three additional people. When Dumbledore answered that Antares'… servants could make other people uncomfortable, as the time for having servants was way past, and it would have been unfair to the others housed within the Grimmauld to do their tasks while the two butlers would do Antares' share of work, along with theirs, thus breeding resentment towards Antares.
At that, the mocha-eyed butler smiled, mild as milk, and questioned why Dumbledore would house people who would be senseless enough to force a sick person to work their share. And besides, wasn't the Wizarding world still dependent on house elves?
Three reasons as for why should Antares keep his servants had steamrolled Dumbledore's feeble attempts at getting the youth into his sphere of influence, much to his dismay and Mad-Eye's entertainment. The old Auror was not so blind as to refuse to see Dumbledore's mistakes, and with the Dark side metaphorically encroaching upon the Light side's territory, the old man really should watch out just which battlefields he was choosing.
Antares had talked himself a week to get the things in order, much to Remus's half-dismay and half-relief. On one hand, the werewolf wanted to see Sirius' reunion with his son, and at the other, he dreaded it, as Antares was nothing like Sirius and if he had to compare him with anyone, it would have been - shudder - one Severus Snape.
Molly, of course, was excited to have another mouth to feed and commiserated on the poor dear's injuries, while the kids were curious about the Hero of Diagon Alley - one Ronald Bilius Weasley was jealous of the kid for having two butlers, Hermione was curious about his heritage, and Ginny Weasley was blushing at the photo of the bespectacled butler she was hiding under her pillow. The twins were not here as they had to deal with their little joke shop, Gabrielle was sulking because she was forced to room with Fleur to make a room for the newcomers and the other adults were…. Apprehensive. Of course, Moody liked the kid, but Bill didn't and Remus was on the thin red line between the two. Sirius was just ecstatic -walking around and bragging about his kid one moment, and the next, he was fretting about being a good father. He had wrangled all the possible answers from Remus - what the kid looked like, what he liked, his preferred food and so on, making Remus irritated enough to contemplate strangling the flea-bitten mutt at several occasions.
One week of anticipation, apprehension and nervousness as all of them prepared to make the best impression possible on the newest addition to Grimmauld household.
"So when did he say he would come again?" Ron asked as he nervously twiddled with a white knight figure. He and Hermione were playing - or attempting to play - a chess match in an effort to stave off the boredom, while Ginny was curled on the couch and reading some romance novel while she too sneaked glances at the old clock on the wall.
They were gathered in a living room that had been scrubbed, polished and dusted just for this occasion - Molly had made them go through the ringer to achieve that kind of cleanliness, much to the teens' dismay, but the results showed, even if the room was still shabby looking, what with the antique furniture and old, washed out carpets and curtains in random hues of browns, reds and the colors in between . The weather outside was rainy for most of the day, and all three of them feared that Antares would change his mind and not come as he promised he would – he was still recovering from his… illness, and traveling in that kind of weather would be counterproductive to his attempts to get healthy again.
Hermione was clothed in a modest ensemble of blue jeans and a soft peach pullover with a motif of flowers stretching from her right hip to her left shoulder, made from differently colored and sized beads. It was an old thing, a little stretched too, but it was warm and comfortable enough for Hermione to proclaim it her favorite piece of clothing, the ensemble from the Yule Ball in the fourth year notwithstanding. Her hair was untamable as usual, and looking a little bit frizzier than usual in her attempt to get it into some semblance of curls.
Ron was tall and lanky, his hair still in the same style as usual, and he was clothed in dark brown leather trousers - borrowed from Bill - and a red short-sleeved shirt with Chudley Cannons logo emblazoned in vivid orange across his chest. Molly had protested against it, but Ron was vehement enough to be allowed to wear it, not bothering with long sleeves in an effort to appear tougher, which was a miserable prospect, because despite being lanky, he had almost no muscles to speak about, and so he appeared more of a un-fleshed-out stick than anything else.
Ginny was a surprise. The youngest redhead was clothed in a knee-length deep blue skirt - borrowed from Hermione – and a white and black cotton shirt with a violet short-sleeved blouse underneath, with the ends of the white cotton shirt being tied on her stomach to make her appear sexier. Her hair was longer now and bound in a loose mermaid tail, with two locks in front of her face as to emphasize her pixie-like features. Usually the Weasley tomboy of a girl didn't give much attention to being feminine, but since seeing that photo of one glasses-wearing hottie of a Carruthers' in the Daily Prophet, her interests had switched into making herself pretty - even more so, since she found out said hottie would be living with them!
"Three in the afternoon, Ron." Hermione replied faux-patiently. Inside, she held himself back not to scream at the idiot - this was his sixth question in the half an hour and really, if Ron asked once more, she would buy Neville's latest concoction and force-feed it to him!
"Yeah." Ginny whispered to herself, a faint blush on her cheeks as she curled even more. She swallowed a ball of dread in an attempt to make herself calmer, but it didn't help. Just a little more, and she would see that dreamy man in person… She shivered, flushing even more.
Hermione eyed the playing board with disgust. The pieces were curiously silent, but that was because she lost her temper and Silenced them - she didn't need their disparaging remarks, thank you very much! Yes, she wasn't greatest player ever, but that still didn't give the animated pieces of wood the right to criticize her moves left, right and center! However, if the only other possibility was to play Exploding Snap…she would have taken chess anytime any day over that dirty excuse for cards. She still couldn't believe that Ron of all people managed to wheedle her into playing chess - but being besotted just had that kind of … power over people. They had been a couple for three months already, which included snogging, some groping and some cuddling and her being curiously malleable to her darling's suggestions. Now, if only she could get him to enjoy a book or two, the romance would have been perfect. Sadly, that remained a kind of a pipe dream…
Her thoughts switched to Sirius' heir.
It had been such a shock to find out that Sirius, a notorious horn dog had an offspring that it wasn't even funny. Sirius swore upside down he hadn't known about that, and Hermione was inclined to believe him, but that just raised another slew of questions.
Why hadn't Berenice told him about the baby? Why did she vanish to gods-knew-where and reared the boy herself? Of course, Ron told her that… bastard children were heavily frowned upon in the Wizarding world, but still! And from Remus' stories, she gleaned that Antares was the same age as both her and Ron… so why didn't he attend Hogwarts? He was a British citizen, wasn't he?
Remus has tried to explain that too - sometimes, it was really rare, the invited child declined the invitation to attend, because of various reasons. They had already entered school elsewhere, were home-schooled or simply didn't have enough money to pay for schooling. Muggleborns were lucky in that regard, as they were funded from Hogwarts' funds, but the kids that lived in the Wizarding World had to be financially supported by their parents, no ifs, ands or buts about it. This was also the reason for the Weasley family's poor state of wealth, besides them losing the majority of their assets in the first war. But as far as she knew, the Carruthers were not poor… not in any sense of a world, so why? Of course, she had heard about the scandal, but it didn't make any sense. Yes, so Antares was conceived out of the wedlock. So what? Many kids nowadays were and no one raised a fuss about it. When she mentioned that to Ron, he eyed her pityingly. "The core of Wizarding world is family. No matter how poor or how rich you are, if you are born out of wedlock, you can't go very far," he told her self-importantly. "So most of the bastard kids can either work only the lowest paying jobs or try their luck in the Muggle World." Of course, Hermione disagreed with such a view, but this was the grim-faced reality of the society she was now a member of.
And if Antares came back, he would have been accepted as a pariah… despite his noble blood. That was another thing that piqued her curiosity. Before their fall out of grace by their heiress'… tomfoolery, the Carruthers were a respected family with both power and prestige in the Wizengamot. They, along with the Greengrass family held the so-called Grey block - they were neutral, as in not allying with the Light or Dark side permanently. When they voted, their votes counted because most of the time, they decided whether the law or decree would be passed or not. However, one night of… passion reduced their state from a respected family into one of disgrace and making a vacuum of power in Winzegamot, thus prompting the balances of Light and Dark to swing around wildly, from one side to another. It also didn't help that some families that supported the Grey block were assimilated into either the Dark or Light side, thus making the already bad situation even worse.
But now, there appeared the new Carruthers heir, who could potentially wash the disgrace off his family's name and to top of it all, he was also recognized by the head of the Black family as his heir. The already unstable political world was now thrown in further tumult by the appearance of the possible new power on the stage. To make the things even more confused, he was the heir of one of the darkest families and the white sheep of the said dark family, which made the chances of him being either Dark- or Light-inclined evenly divided, and with the remains of the Gray block in the Winzegamot…Hermione wasn't one for politics, but even she understood that Antares Carruthers had become the lynchpin for changes that would either make or break the already crumbling status quo between the allied families.
And now, their mission was to convince the cold heir to lend a hand to their cause.
She blinked as she felt a knight prod her hand with a tiny sword, a scowl on his tiny wooden face.
"Hm?" She asked absentmindedly. "Oh, yeah. My turn." She mumbled and carelessly moved the runner, much to his indignant expression, which then turned into a horror when Ron's peasant gleefully gutted him.
Yes, Hermione felt particularly evil and didn't even try to win anymore.
Suffer, little soldiers. Suffer.
Mwahaha.
The time ticked and tocked onward, making them both more disappointed and relieved at the same time.
Will he come? Or not?
They waited, Ron's scowl becoming even more thunderous as he moved restlessly on his seat, while Ginny looked like a kicked puppy.
Four o' clock.
They heard a distant thunder.
"HOW DARE YOU DRAG INTO OUR NOBLE HOUSE THAT BASTARD FILTH OF YOURS!?"
Mrs. Black's screech was unmistakable and filled with scorching hot fury.
They jerked upward.
"You think he's here?" Ginny asked hopefully.
"No duh." Ron snorted derisively.
Looking at each other, the three of them simultaneously jumped up and ran to the door.
Whoever managed to get in such an apoplectic rage was worthy of more than just a passing glance.
Antares was not amused. The reception was as… inhospitable as he expected it to be, but apparently he forgot just how screechy Sirius – no, Black's mother could be.
Both of his butlers cringed minutely at the loud voice, but they held their composure, although Sebastian's dark smile boded nothing well for the painting… just as soon as he got his hands and possibly claws on it.
The journey wasn't the most pleasant around, what with the sudden rainstorm, which didn't help Antares' mood any as he was already disgruntled as he was to live with the sorry excuses for traitors, and would have to be - oh, the horror of all horrors - civil to them. Well, as civil as a Carruthers' heir could be, and that was… barely. They needed his help, but he didn't need theirs. So he wouldn't even try to be any more courteous as he should have been, and if they trip on their tongues, this was their sole fault, and he won't do anything to redeem their… excuses for befriending him.
He was aware that Dumbledore thought him to be susceptible to his suggestions, what with him agreeing to stay in Grimmauld place, even if he had to allow his two butlers to be housed with him. No doubt the old man would try to get him even further under his thumb what with letting him consort with that dumb dog of his and the brats and trying to hold him as far as possible from the Order meetings.
Shame that he didn't know Antares Carruthers better.
The Grimmauld place was as shabby looking as ever, causing Faustus to frown minutely and Michaelis paused for a scant second.
"Do they really think we would live in this… dump?" he asked delicately, out of hearing range of one Bill Weasley.
"Apparently." Antares answered dryly. The rain poured heavily upon them, making them acutely aware of the raindrops that were showered upon their bodies in torrents of tiny floods. There was a blinding flash and then, the thunder exploded with its thunderous roar, making the two demons cringe with the loud sound.
They were clad in dark gray raincoats, as the wind was howling around the corners, so the sophisticated approach of using umbrellas against the rain would be utterly useless. Weasley was in a much worse position, using the umbrella that was only marginally protecting him from the rainfall. Both butlers also carried the luggage, while Antares was allowed only a middle-sized handbag and a cane.
"Come on!" Bill called out as he gestured them to follow him. Antares followed him first, with the two demons turned butlers doubtfully following him.
The door creaked ominously as they entered the dimmed antechamber, which didn't exactly impressed them - Antares because he acutely remembered the damned thing, and the butlers because they were not exactly enthused with their new lodgings. All right, in their long lives, they had stayed in a variety of accommodations, from the dumps, which was rarely, to the modest houses and palaces which beauty was breathtaking to see. And this…wherever they were now, could only be classified as a dump, and Sebastian expected a rat scurrying around the corner any moment now. Maybe he would manage to persuade someone to get a cat…
And then, the demons' ears were assaulted with the worst shriek ever.
"HOW DARE YOU DRAG INTO OUR NOBLE HOUSE THAT BASTARD FILTH OF YOURS!?"
The feminine – nay, a banshee voice echoed in the antechamber, making the two demon butlers glare heatedly at the cause of the racket. And to their surprise, it was a…. portrait?
"Mrs. Black -" Bill tried to placate the incensed woman, but it didn't bode too well with his efforts.
"SHUT UP, YOU OLD HAG!" Another voice roared out, this time distinctly masculine. "I WILL INVITE IN MY HOUSE WHOEVER THE HELL I WANT! SO GO DIE IN A HOLE - WAIT, YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD! NOBODY LISTENS TO YOU, RESPECTS YOU OR EVEN REMEMBERS YOU, SO WHY DON'T YOU DO US ALL A FAVOR AND LEAVE THE AFFAIRS OF THE LIVING TO THOSE WHO ACTUALLY HAVE A LIFE?" The voice became even louder as its owner neared the source of the commotion.
The portrait squawked with outrage. "WHY YOU, I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE SUCH A HOODLUM - OH, WHAT A DISGRACE HAS THE ESTEEMED AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK FALLEN INTO!"
The dark-clad man thundered down the stairway, along with a small entourage of onlookers.
With a decisive flick of his wand, the curtains covered the portrait, whose furious shriek of outrage was greatly muffled behind the enchanted fabric.
He had shoulder-length dark brown hair with some white streaks at the temples, wavy and a little bit too messy to be thought as an intentionally sexy-hairdo. He was clothed in dark gray trousers with a deep red shirt with open black vest, made from untreated leather with dark blue fur at its edges. An unusual choice of … clothes especially as the visitors were under impression most of the wizards didn't know much about modern clothes. When he turned to the newcomers, his sharp – profiled face revealed wrinkles on the forehead, subtle lines around his mouth and bags under his eye. The man's blue-gray eyes were dull, as if he lacked the proper amount of sleep, but somewhere within them, there was still a spark of… something. He was freshly shaved, apparently in an effort to make a good impression. The man smiled sheepishly.
"Heh. I am sorry for the… reception. I assure you it wasn't intended." He smiled sheepishly, but his smile was somewhat strained as he looked at the group. His eyes immediately sought out Antares, and when they found him, they widened, and the man's face became hopeful. "Antares, right?" he asked.
Antares only inclined his head. "Indeed, Mr. Black." The curt answer made the old dog flinch back as if struck, but then he bounced back. "You look like Benny…. You have her cheekbones." He murmured lowly, expecting an answer. When he didn't get it, he perused the boy's - his boy's! What a strange thought, - servants.
The two of them were tall and swathed within their coats, still holding their masters' luggage, which indicated them to be Muggles…. Or at least Squibs. Honestly, using a house elf would have been more prudent, but for some reason Antares deployed his two human servants to do away with more menial tasks. The two butlers in question saw a flash of reluctant… dislike in the man's eye as he looked over them and judged their usefulness to Antares. Well, it was understandable, what with the Diagon Alley fiasco…
"So get yourself out of your rain cloaks –" The three newcomers sweat dropped. Seriously? Were they so backwards as not to know that it was raincoats? – "leave the luggage to Kreacher and come to the kitchen. You must be hungry- it was a long day after all, eh?"
"Will do." Antares murmured out, and with that done, the two butlers put the luggage on the floor and reached up to free themselves from the rain-sodden garments.
Smoothly, the cowls were eased back, and the dark gray fabric gave way to the black butler uniforms.
"Eek!" There was a yelp, that made the two butlers sharply turn their heads to the origin of the voice, only to discover a blushing teenaged redhead girly trying to meld into shadows, her cheeks red with mortification, while both the bushy haired girl and the lanky, red-haired boy stared at them with undisguised curiosity. They tried to shrink back into the shadows, but no matter, they were already noted… and disregarded.
The bespectacled butler wordlessly passed his cloak to the glasses-less one, and then proceeded to disrobe his Master of his own cloak, which was also passed to the latter to hand them somewhere warm to dry.
"If you would call your servant to show me to Young Master's rooms?" The cloak-burdened butler inquired politely, a faint, gentle smile hovering on his lips.
"Of course. Kreacher!" The man, now known as Mr. Black agreed, like a starved mutt about to do anything for a scrap of meat.
"What does Mudblood-loving filthy Master wants from Kreacher now?" the small creature grumbled as it eyed Sirius with undisguised amount of loathing.
The two butlers blinked. That was a house elf?
Right rude little creatures they were.
"Cease insulting me and help…." Sirius turned to the cloak-carrying butler sheepishly, as he realized that he didn't know his name. "Michaelis," The butler provided him the name cordially, smiling slightly.
" – Michaelis carry the luggage to the Heir Room, and when he finishes, lead him to the Kitchen. No detours. Am I understood?" Sirius asked sharply.
The creature eyed him with its beady eyes scornfully. "Yes, Master. Kreacher will do as he was ordered." He grated out, nearly making the two butlers wince with his voice. Sullenly, the creature snapped its fingers, and to the butlers amazement, the four coffers were lifted into the air.
"Follow me, humans." The creature spoke out the last world as if it was something filthy, but Michaelis only nodded and did as he was told.
Sirius glared after the retreating back of this… little creature. Kreacher was being an annoyance on purpose and he cursed himself for not remembering just what a pain in the ass this particular house Elf could be, given his… quirky personality.
"Your… staff leaves much to be desired, Mr. Black." The bespectacled man commented, making Sirius twitch. "Don't I know it." The man sighed. "Unfortunately, it would have been too dangerous to let him loose, and so we are subjected to his… antics."
"Why not kill him, then?" The butler suggested, golden eyes flashing as he discreetly supported his Master.
"You think I don't know this?" Sirius grimaced. "No…Just, no. The old hag – " he pointed to the covered portrait – " would have caused a racket of epic proportions, and I don't know about you, but I like my peace, thank you very much. So, shall we go?"
The butler inclined his head elegantly. "By all means."
Meanwhile, Sebastian was following the grouchy little creature, amused by its grumblings and insults. "Filthy Mudblood-loving Master…. Shames the house…. Wish the Mistress could've been alive…" He did notice the creature's strange reluctance to lead him to their destination.
"Kreacher, is there any other room aside from Heir's to accommodate my Master?"
The small creature stilled. "Why do yous want to know that?"
Sebastian smiled. "My Master is not exactly fond of being put into a spotlight, and he is rather… cross with Mr. Black. Also, I see that you for some reason don't wish to have him in that particular room. Any reason?"
The large ears drooped. "Was Master Reggie's room." The old elf whispered. "Master Reggie's room is just like when he left it. Master Reggie killed and left behind poor, old Kreacher – "
Sebastian's mocha-colored eyes narrowed as his brain whirled through the new information. "Okay. Young Master will understand. Now, the room?"
Big eyes looked at him. "Yous serious?"
Sebastian nodded. "Like a heart attack." He promised solemnly, making the old elf snort.
"Filthy doggy master still wants Kreacher to leave Master Reggie's room to …. That master of yous." Kreacher growled out, stomping his small foot against the flow in a fit of temper, the luggage in the air in front of him swaying dangerously.
"Kreacher, he said you to help me carry the luggage to Heir Room, not that my Young Master would be suited in it." Sebastian said silkily, a catty little smile on his pale lips.
Large bulbous eyes widened. "… Filthy Master did say so." Kreacher said slowly, as if something had just dawned on him. The vicious little creature then smiled.
"Kreacher knows just the place." Sebastian nodded, satisfied with his little manipulation. After all, the servants were always a vastly underrated, but very useful allies, especially when one had to entrench themselves in the middle of an enemy's territory.
Besides, the more trouble he could cause, even if inadvertently, to that mutt of a traitor, the better.
Meanwhile, Antares and Claude followed the mutt to the kitchen.
The house hadn't changed much since the last time - still old, drab but at least marginally cleaner, and Claude frowned disapprovingly at the dust bunnies that were cleverly masquerading as part of the shadows.
This was unacceptable.
And to think they would have to live here for an extended period of time, instead of wide, beautiful and most importantly, clean Trancy Manor? How… shameful.
But it needed to be done.
It was a good thing that Sebastian managed to outfox Dumbledore for them to come - he shuddered to think what his Master's wounds would be like after a prolonged stay in such an unsanitary place.
As that fake Trancy would have said: "Ewww, yuck."
Not the most elegant of the phrases, but it surmised the hypothetical situation quite nicely.
"Everyone, I got someone for you to meet!" Sirius' hyper voice alerted the occupants of the kitchen to the new arrival.
"So they finally hauled their asses here." The well-known growly voice of a paranoid Auror greeted the duo gruffly. "Were you followed?"
"In that rain?" Bill scoffed as he toweled his long locks dry wildly, much to the plump woman's protests. "It's raining cats and dogs out here - I barely saw five feet in front of me! Not to mention the storm!"
"Oh, Beel." The beautiful young woman cooed at the toweling redhead who only shrugged heroically. And, Claude noted absently, she was really beautiful. Not up to the true Succubus, but she did have her share of… womanly charms. Not that they attracted the kumoshitsuji much… he had seen dime a dozen beautiful women in his life, and one more really wouldn't change anything in the greater scheme of things.
The eyes of the gathered people looked at the duo curiously. Antares wanted to fidget, but he firmly remembered himself that this wasn't time to behave like some kind of a scolded child. And there they were.
The traitors.
"Welcome, my boy." The old wizard said joyfully, and Antares twitched.
"That is it?" Another person said incredulously. "This slip of a brat made you wait for him a week before he deigned to visit the mutt's humble abode?" Oh, good old Snape. Nothing escapes his sharp tongue… well, except female's cherry.
"Severus – "Dumbledore began with a long-suffering sigh. The Potions Master was particularly disagreeable on the point of bringing Carruthers into their fold, and after that disastrous trial, the man was almost unbearable to live with. The dear boy was taking his failure of protecting Lily's boy a little to personally, but it couldn't be helped.
"Dumbledore." The quiet voice, half scratch and half hiss of an air made the wizards and witches focus on the youth.
"I don't need you. Remember that."
With that single proclamation, the youth sat down on the chair his butler somehow managed to inconspicuously procure, starting the fireworks of outrage.
"You can't be serious! We need him!?" Snape screamed as he jumped up, the chair behind him clattering on the floor, as he slammed his hands on the desk. His dark eyes were bloodshot and his face was even more sallow than it had been since Antares had seen him last, along with a deep serrated wound on his left cheek that stretched from his temple to the jaw. Idly, Antares wondered just what caused it. The Potions Master was clad in his usual ensemble of black robes, only they were tattered at the edges, as if they had seen too much use lately. Else they did or the man had come directly from the Death Eaters' gathering and he hadn't had time to change his clothes. "I've had to contend with two arrogant brats on a regular basis just because you said so, but I draw the line with this mutt's spawn!"
"My Ronald is not an arrogant brat!" The plump woman shrieked. She had red hair and she was clothed in faded gray skirt and a little stretched out pullover that didn't hide the overly voluptuous nature of her body. She put hands on her hips. "If Dumbledore said they can, they –"
"Molywobbles, dear, please calm – "The redheaded elderly man tried to calm his wife unsuccessfully, as her face became even more ripe that it had already been.
"Shut it, Snape, you are just jealous that I have a son and you failed to protect that murderous brat –"
"Maybe he would have turned out better if he had Pettigrew for his Godfather - at least the rat was too cowardly to outright run into the danger and leave behind helpless little –" Snape sneered back, making Sirius's face livid with anger.
"You slimy-snaked traitorous Death Eater bastard!" Sirius roared as he speedily drew his wand to curse him.
"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore's voice boomed, stopping the disaster in the making in its tracks.
Antares blinked.
…. Interesting.
Seemed that there was a schism in the oh-so-helpful Order of the Phoenix.
The old wizard was deploying enough magic that all arguing parties were settling back on their places like scolded puppies, some more reluctantly than the others.
"I am disappointed in all of you." The old wizard said, a strain in his usually cheerful voice a mute witness to just how close the warlock was to exploding with anger himself.
"You all knew we would get a guest today, and instead of receiving him cordially and showing him a pleasant time, you two," Blue eyes eyed the two particular men sternly "Manage to make it into your own pissing contest." The two on question winced. Well, Sirius winced, while Snape only flinched and tightened his lips.
"Severus, we need the input of young Weasley and Miss Granger. You see much as a teacher, but it's always good to have a student's perspective."
"Then you should have taken Longbottom. As much of a failure the boy is, he is at least inconspicuous, while these two, being the prefects are anything but." Snape argued back. "Granger is too bossy, and Weasley has anger problems and with the adoring public being on their case – " He sneered, much to the offended mutters of some of the listeners " - they are worst people you could've chosen for monitoring the students for anything suspicious."
Antares listened, impressed. While he still had a strong dislike of a man, he couldn't deny that Snape knew what he was talking about, and it was a surprise to see him speak of Neville in such a positive light... relatively speaking.
"I understand, but it's just because they are under such a spotlight they would be the last people considered to take notes of anything irregular." Dumbledore rebuked the spy placidly, making Antares look at him with disbelief.
Just what was the man smoking to have such an addle-brained idea? Or were those numerous lemon drops some kind of a drug that made him unreasonable in the aspects of warfare?
If you are in the spotlight, you are blinded by the lights, and you can hardly notice the shadows.
Damn. No wonder the Light was losing their ground so quickly.
"And Sirius, this was completely uncalled for." Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't just defended his decision with the worst argument possible.
Claude forced himself to be still, however much he would have liked to pinch himself. This was like corny dialogue from some D-rated horror movie one of his last masters was so fond of watching.
The look at his Master's face mutely stated the same, before the youth quickly schooled his mask back on.
"When I agreed to come here I expected to be treated with courtesy and respect." Antares rasped out. "Instead of that, you are calling me out as if I were your dog and not a person from whom you requested a favor. We are not family. We are not friends. We are not colleagues. We are acquaintances, and I expect to be addressed appropriately." Antares said, his voice cold.
"But - !" Sirius tried to interject, but then the bespectacled butler raised his head.
"It is as Young Master said. Even if he is younger than me, it would have been impolite of me to address him anything else than Master." The golden-eyed butler explained stoically, making the mutt deflate almost visibly. "I don't care what kind of trouble you have with Granger and Weasley, but keep my Master out of it." He addressed Snape, who only sneered in return.
Seemed that the Massacre of Diagon was already a well-known topic among the Death Eaters.
"Right!" Sirius interjected with a forced smile on his lips. "Anyway, everyone, meet my son and Heir, Antares Carruthers and his servant– " he turned to Antares for a name - "Faustus." The butler supplied as he elegantly bowed his head. "-Faustus." Sirius repeated doubtfully but he turned back to the crowd. "They will be with us for some time, so I hope we all will get along."
"Pleased to meet you." Claude intoned indifferently, while Antares only inclined his head, earning some weirded out looks for his choice of communication.
"So you already know Moody, Remus and Bill," Sirius continued blithely, as he pointed to the woman in Bill's embrace. "This lovely maiden is Fleur Delacour, Bill's fiancée -" The girl in question smiled. "Enchanté." She murmured, but Sirius was relentless. "We also have along her little sister, Gabrielle, but she is currently upstairs, along with the three other kids. Next, we have Molly Weasley, our resident cook – "Molly smiled at Antares tightly, with a small shred of disapproval in her eye, "- the redheaded man beside her is Arthur, her husband and resident collector of anything Muggle, " Sirius then pointed at the pink-haired… snout-nosed woman grandly " And she here is She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Called-By-Her-Name, aka Remus' fiancée , but you can call her just Tonks. Dung is outside right now, but you can't miss him, he stinks of Firewhisky, and you already know the hook-nose." Sirius explained blithely, making Snape snarl at him with irritation, not that the old dog cared. "And I am… your father, Sirius Black. So… Pleased to meet you." He offered the hand to Antares, who stared at it as if it were something alien, making Sirius drop his hopeful smile and after a moment, he attempted to retract it, only to feel the slender, cool hand grasp it, making his lips widen in a blissful grin.
"And I… am Antares Carruthers." Antares said slowly, before he released his hand, not that it managed to dim Sirius' goofy grin any less. "You mentioned you house three children?" he inquired curiously.
"Ah, that would be young Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ronald's sister, Ginevra Weasley, called Ginny." Dumbledore answered, a grandfatherly smile on his lips as he stroked his beard.
Dark eyebrow quirked. "Reason?" The Carruthers' heir asked flatly. "The Weasleys are prominent Light family and as such a target of Death Eaters." Remus explained softly in an attempt to stop Dumbledore's tries of lording over the young man that was Black heir. "Hermione is a close friend of Ronald's and she also managed to cause a significant damage to the Dark forces. She's also a Muggleborn."
"Ah." Antares nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Tell them not to disturb me or my butlers, because we don't appreciate snoopy kids around where we don't wish them." He could see Molly puff out with indignation. Did he care? No.
"What my Master wants to say is that he is still recovering from his injuries and he would appreciate if he wouldn't be bothered by the children in the meantime." A new voice interjected, making half of the Order jump on their chairs, and the other half aim their wands at the source.
"Everyone, meet Michaelis, the second butler of the House of Carruthers." Claude muttered, making the people sigh with relief and irritation, while those mocha-colored eyes narrowed for a fleeting moment- so fleeting it seemed an illusion.
"Pleased to meet you," the now-named butler spoke out, his voice whiskey-smooth as he shallowly bowed to soon-to-be housemates.
"Why does 'ee 'as 'ee butlerz?" Fleur asked curiously while she eyed the butler duo with a sharp eye. If she weren't already promised, she would have tried her luck with the two exemplary specimens of the male species, but alas, she had her Bill now, and Veelas, even if they appreciated beauty, didn't go as far as to be unfaithful when they found their mates. And besides, those… butlers…made Fleur's proverbial feathers ruffle for some reason and it made her a little bit more cautious than before.
"Carruthers don't have house elves, as they live in the mundane world. Instead, they have butlers to take care of their needs and wants." Sebastian explained candidly, smiling politely at the beautiful girl.
Sirius blinked. "Really? I didn't know that," he mused, earning a flat look from his so-called son. "Well, at least it is better than having a Kreacher - the damned thing is a nuisance to everyone. We had to clean everything by hand because Kreacher refused to do so." He sighed with aggravation.
"You still live," Antares deadpanned flatly, making Sirius bark with laughter.
"Did Kreacher accommodate you properly?" He then asked Sebastian, smiling goofily. "Of course," Sebastian nodded politely. "Everything seems to be in order, except…" Sirius' face fell at the 'but' clause in the sentence.
"Except?" Sirius prodded, unhappy. "If he did anything –"
"No, it's nothing like that," Sebastian defended. "If I may, where would be our lodgings?"
The wizards blinked dumbly.
"Your lodgings?" The pink-haired woman repeated, confused. "Well, yes…. Kreacher assured me that the elf quarters were decisively too small for someone of our… heights," Sebastian told to the public candidly, making Sirius snort incredulously.
"The menace told you that?" he asked incredulously. "Just what have you done to make him speak without curses?"
Sebastian looked at the mutt that masqueraded as his Master's father. "Asked him." He told the man politely, a small smile on his lips, as he saw the man screw his face in the grimace of confusion mixed with exasperation.
"Asked him." The Bill said flatly. "Sirius has trouble to just make the menace to obey the simplest of orders, and you just ask and Kreacher answers? I don't believe you."
Sebastian chuckled. "Ah… that would be a servant prerogative." He tilted his head on the side, eyes in two happy upside-down crescents.
"Enough. Where will you have them to lodge?" Antares' quiet, raspy voice interrupted the interplay, turning the attention back to the one-eyed youth.
"Well…" Sirius coughed. "There is one more room currently livable enough… and if you are comfortable with the amount of purple in it…." He trailed off, embarrassed.
Claude eyed the man. "Is something else wrong with it?" he asked flatly, making Fleur giggle with mirth.
Sirius coughed in his hand. "It was my Mother's room." He made a face. "Live in it at your own risk."
"Well, then I will room with Master Antares, and Claude can have the room of doom for himself," Sebastian interjected happily, making the bespectacled butler glare at him.
"No. It would be better if I were rooming with Young Master." Claude spoke calmly, if not a little stiffly. "I believe it's my duty as Master's first butler."
The two butlers glared at each other, making the wizards stare at them with amusement, curiosity, and in some cases, disgust.
"Surely they could live somewhere else," The old coot tried to persuade the again, but judging by the flat stare both of the butlers sent at him, this option was…
"Not. Negotiable." The ex-Trancy butler replied with the steeliest voice possible, making the wizards shudder and Bill face palm at the Headmaster penchant for scheming.
"I fear I must agree with my colleague," Sebastian purred out gently, but none of the present could have mistaken this smooth tone for anything less than veiled threat. "Young Master needs the 24/7 care, and I am not so foolish as to leave him in your… capable… hands." He waved his own appendage as if to mock the wizards further, making them bristle.
"Besides, Dumbledore already agreed to us lodging here." He continued, as if perfectly unaware that he managed to insult the wand-wavers. "And what should we think if he suddenly went back on his world, hmmm?"
"That was not my intention, Mr. Michaelis." Dumbledore replied back with placating tone. "My concern was merely the comfort of all involved, especially Mr. Carruthers."
"Bullshit." Moody's little cough didn't exactly cover the small word he had mouthed out, much to the amusement of the three new residents.
Antares sighed. "Michaelis and Faustus will both room in the… late dame's room." He decided, much to Sebastian's faintly wounded look. Claude only narrowed his eyes. "I will demand privacy - except in emergency, none of you will enter the rooms we inhabit, and in my case, you have to get my butlers' permission.
"That is preposterous!" The red-headed woman huffed out.
"That is civility." Antares barbed back. "Or are you telling me you and your lot were raised so badly you don't know the meaning, nor the use of it?"
He tapped the cane against the floor sharply, making the woman seethe helplessly under his hard, empty gaze.
"Of course, Mr. Carruthers." The red-haired man said softly. "We understand. Don't we, Molly?" A warning look to his otherwise loud wife made her nod mutinously.
"Splenidid! Now if we finished the courtesies let's –"
Whatever Dumbledore tried to say, it was interrupted with the door opening and three heads poking in.
"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" The bushy - haired girl asked, a faux-confused expression on her face.
"Nosy little brats." Snape's sullen mutter was overshadowed by Dumbledore's cheerful "Not at all, come in. We were in the middle of introductions anyway."
"Of course, Headmaster." Hermione nodded shyly and the three of them stepped in, all of them looking at the three newcomers curiously.
Ginny was flushing as she looked at the bespectacled butler who muttered something in his Master's ear, while the other one just smiled at them politely.
"And those are Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and Ron Weasley." Dumbledore introduced them to the unimpressed youth.
The three teens looked at the cane-holding youth curiously – Hermione's gaze was one of a fervent scholar - Antares didn't doubt she would tried to interrogate him to find out everything about the Carruthers, while Ron was more mutinous and dark, switching between jealousy and admiration. Ginny wasn't looking at him much, and Antares exhaled a small sigh of relief - the redheaded girl was the one who could potentially oust him to the Order because of her knowledge of his looks - granted, he had changed thoroughly, what with the adoption ritual and whatnot, but there still existed a possibility, no matter how minuscule it seemed to be.
Thankfully, the chit was too occupied with Claude, and Antares could predict many hours of teasing for Sebastian's amusement.
"Hello." Hermione smiled easily as she offered him the hand, only for Antares to narrow his eye at her.
"Good evening." He reiterated curtly. "Can't say it is my pleasure."
"Antares!" The red-haired matron tried to rebuke him, only for the cold gaze to zero on her.
"You're not my mother. Shut up." The Carruthers Heir told her flatly, making her flush with mortified indignation.
"Now, now, Mr. Carruthers. She is only trying to be polite." Dumbledore spoke disapprovingly, blue eyes glinting with disappointed light.
"I will when they cease to eavesdrop." Antares stood up slowly, making the three teens blush with shame. "I am tired and I wish to rest."
"As you wish." Dumbledore nodded grandly as he stroked his beard. "You certainly need it to recover from your… afflictions."
Antares nodded sharply. "Michaelis, lead the way." He ordered, and with a small bow, the mocha-eyed butler led the Master and his colleague out of the room.
When the newcomers left the room, the occupants turned to Dumbledore.
"Are you sure that was a good idea?" Bill asked flatly as he cradled Fleur to himself.
Wizened blue eyes were hid by glaring lenses of the owner's glasses.
"Good idea? Yes. We need all the help we could get. Antares is just a little… antisocial." The old wizard murmured, but his murmur was heard by all present.
"He is not like Berenice." Arthur interjected, frowning thoughtfully as he perused his memories. "I am sure she would've raised her child better than… that." He nodded toward the closed door.
"Of course not, but with extenuating circumstances in play, we should forgive the boy." Dumbledore agreed, troubled.
"What extenuating circumstances are you speaking of?" Hermione asked, frowning as she bit her lip. She had recovered from the embarrassment of being found out so easily and even if she was still embarrassed, her curiosity right now was overshadowing the lingering feelings of embarrassment.
"He was tortured." Bill cut straight to the chase, making the females gasp with horror, while the males cringed. "Bill! They are still kids!" Molly chastised her son, frowning. "They –"
"- Shouldn't have been here in the first place." Bill interrupted her, his scarred face serious. "But they are and we are not doing them any favors with mollycoddling them." Brown eyes looked over the three teens whose own orbs were wide with horror and fascination. "Sooner than later they will find out these are no kiddie games, and personally, I would rather have them safe with knowledge than in danger because they knew jack shit about real world."
A tense silence reigned in the room.
"What kind of torture?" Ron asked recklessly, his eyes wide with fascination.
"Didn't tell us." Mad-Eye grumbled. "But from what I could see, the torture was very …. thoroughly done and by the look it, Bellatrix hit the lad with some of the Black Family curses – "
Blue eyes widened as Sirius shot up from his chair.
"SHE DID WHAT!?"
The enraged roar was heard all the way up to the Antares' room.
"Mm. Seems they found out about his little… additions." Sebastian mused, humming as he prepared the bath for their Master.
"Indeed." Claude agreed, carefully disrobing the eye patch-wearing youth. "Is the room to your liking, Master?" He asked Antares.
The youth lifted up his head, his lone eye looking through the room carelessly.
It was a little smaller than his previous one, clad in dark gray and royal blue tones. It consisted of the mahogany wardrobe and a small table from the same wood. The bed was simple - the frame made from red cherry wood that accentuated the white and dark blue of the covers. The walls were painted in medium blue with silver accents in the shape of various mythical animals that came and went as they pleased - two eagles were playing in the upper left corner, while on the right wall a chimera was chasing after an unicorn.
The room wasn't the most luxurious in the house, but it was undoubtedly one of the better cared for ones, especially as it was one of the rooms Kreacher had managed to keep away from Sirius and his entourage by the will of the late Mrs. Black.
While the so-called purple room was in a sorry state that made both of the butlers cringe - apparently Sirius had desecrated the room pretty harshly in his efforts to make a portrait have an apoplexy of epic proportions. Suffice to say Kreacher somehow managed to serve him a potion in his favorite food that made the idiotic dog have diarrhea of epic proportions for a day and a half, and of course one Severus Snape was curiously out of the anti-laxative potions. Not that he was terribly sorry about not having them, much to Sirius' irritation.
The fabrics were torn and shredded, the corners stank with dog piss and here and there was some doggy shit - Claude almost stopped in one such small pile, and the bed rest was chewed thoroughly, making ugly indents in the wood.
Nonetheless to say, the butlers were not amused… especially with the double bed. No way did they want to sleep near to each other, thank you very much!
But Master's orders were absolute - even if they did intend to cheat on them later on, so they would have to repair the damned room and suck it up.
However, one particular dog was now definitely on their black list….
Giving a butler a…. Room in such disrepair to live in….
Was… Prohibited.
"Ah… Chooo!" Sirus sneezed harshly.
"Sirius, you alright?" Tonks asked, concerned.
Sirius shivered. "I just got a feeling someone was dancing on my grave." He shivered his eyes wide.
"Would serve you right, mutt." Snape sneered spitefully, but even he faltered at the sheer terror on the man's face. "Just who did you piss off this time?"
Sirius sniffled. "Has to be some kind of a demon." He mumbled. "The feminine wrath kind of lost its effect on me since Lily's whaling on me for getting Remus drunk on the night of the full moon." He ambled away, leaving Snape stare at him with his jaw slack with disbelief.
'Not only did he close me in with a werewolf, but what was even worse, he closed me in with a drunk werewolf out all of the creatures…'
Severus Snape growled.
The drunk werewolf, aka one R.J. Lupin was a creature to be avoided at all costs if you wanted to have your dignity and clothes whole and in working order. One Severus Snape didn't have such luck and it didn't help the drunk werewolf was particularly amorous toward his person, and only one James Potter's heroic sacrifice - ahem, letting the wolf to hump his hindquarters, saved the then future Potions Master from losing his dignity, virginity and clothes, not necessarily in that order.
Not that Remus knew anything about that, because both of the… sane… parties involved swore an Unbreakable Vow to never, ever speak about the happenings in that particular night.
However, Sirius had just now acquired a new old enemy in the shape of one royally pissed off Potions Master, who was hell-bent to get back on the mutt for the indignity he had suffered that gentle night, much to the two butlers' unexplained glee.
/To Be Continued/