Disclaimer: See Chapter I.
Chapter III
The New Ally
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Cassiopeia and Pollux would distract Harry with lessons and classes in the standard Hogwarts subjects, politics, dancing, etiquette, Latin and a language of his choice – Gaelic dialects. Cassiopeia had scoffed at his choice and urged him to take up French instead, but she hadn't been able to change his mind.
Harry, in turn, would tell them about the Philosopher's Stone and the Basilisk and Tom Riddle's diary. Sirius's emotions had ranged from surprise to shock to horror. Arcturus, however, had only pressured Harry to talk about the diary.
"You destroyed it with a Basilisk fang?" he asked, furrowing his brow.
"Yes, Lord Black," Harry said respectfully, remembering Cassiopeia's teachings. "It was as if he and the diary were connected. He felt pain when I stabbed it."
"Curious," Pollux remarked with a wicked smile. "It's almost as if the diary held a part of Mr Riddle, no?"
"Be silent, Pollux," Arcturus said with narrowed eyes.
Harry glanced from one man to another, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I advise you to put the thought out of your mind until we have found a solution," Arcturus said. "Now I do believe it's well past midnight."
Harry took that as an order to go upstairs. He bid the two men goodnight and entered his bedroom. He did feel exhausted, but his sleep was restless. Mostly because of the odd dream he had.
A cloaked figure was running with a large basket in its hand. It ran across beautiful valleys and alongside clear rivers, but didn't stop to admire any of the wonders the land had to offer. Small stone cottages littered the planes. Men and women were setting up barrows of vegetables and hanging pieces of raw meat from their wooden stands. A general buzz sounded from the place; the combined noises of the sellers and buyers at the market, the street musicians playing the flute, the children playing by the river and the men at the port commanding ships and unloading boxes and crates.
The figure ran past every obstacle and came to a tall stone tower complete with flags and banners. It knocked on the arched door, which was opened by an elderly man, and rushed inside. "Alther," it greeted breathlessly. It had a woman's voice.
"Alther," the woman said again. "Take them. Keep them safe. Keep them as far away as you possibly can."
Alther glanced at the basket in the woman's hand and frowned uneasily. "You ask me to steal a child and keep it from its rightful home."
"I ask you to protect my family," the woman said in a trembling voice. "This is all I have asked from you."
The aged man took the basket from the woman and set it on the table. Reaching into it, he picked up two small bundles of blankets. "Are they siblings?"
"That's up to you to decide," the cloaked woman said. "Give them any identity you see fit, but keep them near you."
The man nodded solemnly. "Very well, child. Go now, before they notice your absence."
That was when Harry woke up. Glancing outside his window, he noticed it was already sunny outside. He quickly dressed himself and descended the stairs. Once he was in the kitchen, he was promptly scolded by Cassiopeia.
"Look at the state of your hair," she said disapprovingly. She conjured a comb and tried to flatten the mop of black on Harry's head to no avail. She was considerably softer than she had been in the beginning of Harry's stay at Black Manor, but she was far from gentle. Her severity and ill temper were still very prominent traits of her personality.
"Do you know anyone named Alther?" Harry asked, paying little mind to her rough combing. Five weeks had been enough time for him to get used to her and feel safe around her.
Cassiopeia frowned in confusion. "No. Why do you ask?"
Harry shrugged. "I had this dream... There was a cloaked woman and an old man named Alther."
Cassiopeia hummed. "Do not dwell on it," she said. "It means nothing."
Harry nodded, sat down and picked up the toast Donny had left him. He was, however, soon distracted by an owl soaring toward the house. Cassiopeia spelled the window open and untied the letters from the owl once it had landed. Harry gave it a bit of his toast, but stopped at the woman's disapproving look.
"This is for you to eat," she said sternly, giving it a small treat.
Harry grinned and tried to peek at the letters. "They're both from Hogwarts," he said, surprised.
"Indeed," Cassiopeia agreed. "Here – this one's for you."
Harry opened it to see not only the standard letter and book list, but also a permission slip. Reading over it quickly, he announced, "It's for Hogsmeade!"
Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Harry, I'm not certain you can go."
"Why not?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow. He really wanted to go. Had he done anything wrong?
"It is still believed that your legal guardian is Vernon Dursley," she said, stroking his hair. "If Pollux or I signed the form, it would raise suspicion at Hogwarts."
"Oh," Harry said, blinking. "All right..." He tried to hide his disappointment, but it wasn't easy. "What does the other letter say?"
"It's from Professor McGonagall," Cassiopeia said. "Read it for yourself." She handed him the letter.
To the Noble and most Ancient House of Black,
I address this letter to you in high hopes of protecting Hogwarts School from harm. The current Headmaster, as we all know, is a powerful man, but he is rapidly ageing and, I fear, he is no longer capable of running the school. With all the respect and admiration Headmaster Albus Dumbledore deserves, I firmly state that we must start anew, dismissing the current dangers from the castle.
I have not informed him that you are currently the guardians of one Mr Harry Potter. As you already know, Mr Potter is a student in Gryffindor House and it is my duty to protect him. Our families have been allies for decades and I hope we can restore the alliance that brought peace to our homes.
In return for a strong alliance, I, Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, Lady McGonagall and Transfiguration Mistress, will hereby protect every member of the House of Black until they have come of age. I also swear to try to prove Sirius Black's innocence to the best of my abilities.
For further discussion on the future of our houses, please set a date, time and location for us to meet. I will allow, as the old laws state, up to five representatives of the house.
Yours respectfully,
Prof. Minerva McGonagall
Lady of the Noble House of McGonagall
Head of Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Transfiguration Mistress
Harry looked up, shocked. "How does she know?" he asked quietly.
Cassiopeia looked grim. "She has sources, Harry. Allies. Minerva McGonagall is a powerful woman, more cunning and resourceful than Albus Dumbledore could hope to be. I studied under her; I know it's better to take up her offer for an alliance than face her as an enemy."
Harry frowned and leaned back in his chair. "What do I do once I get to Hogwarts?"
"You stay on her good side," Cassiopeia said solemnly. "Show her you are a true member of our noble house. "Choose your allies carefully, Harry."
Harry was stunned. Was she telling him to abandon his friends? He was never going to do that. He couldn't; Ron and Hermione had been his first and only friends. They had risked their lives with him, for him. They were his family. He couldn't just leave.
"No self-respecting pure-blood would normally accept a Gryffindor as an ally, but seeing as you're the Chosen One..."
"I don't want to be the Chosen One!" Harry protested.
"I do not recall asking for your opinion," Cassiopeia snapped. "You will do what's best for yourself and your house."
"I didn't even ask to be taken here," Harry said. "I'm not leaving Ron and Hermione for some stuck-up pure-blood twat!"
"I will send alliance requests to the families I see fit," the formidable woman said icily. "And you will not disobey me. I have not yet asked you to leave the Weasley boy, but you will make more useful allies. Longbottom, for one. Nott, Malfoy, Bones, Macmillan."
Harry made a face. "Not Malfoy," he pleaded.
Cassiopeia sighed. "We will not discuss now. It is neither the time, nor the place. Sirius will take you to Diagon Alley for your things."
Harry nodded wordlessly. He kept staring at the letter until Pollux came into the kitchen. "Lovely," he said once he had read it. "I've always wanted an overprotective, foolishly brave professor as my ally."
"Do shut up, brother," Cassiopeia said.
Harry exited the room, unable to stand their bickering. He roamed aimlessly throughout the manor. He had seen most of it, anyway; he had explored nearly every part of it in his second week. But it was still entertaining to stumble across old portraits and hidden traps in the house. Harry walked to the basement and through the duelling arena when he noticed a large metal door. He frowned. He could have sworn in hadn't been there last time.
Curious, Harry approached the door and pushed and pulled the handle. It wouldn't move. He was about to walk away when he remembered Sirius's words.
"Inside the old manors, the ministry's laws are null and void. Underage magic is for those in the Muggle world... and pure-bloods that don't have ancient manors. Here, you can cast any spell without any consequences. The wards will keep the magic away from the ministry."
The young boy unsheathed his wand and pointed it at the door. "Recludo!" he said, practising for the first time the spell Pollux had taught him. The door swung open, revealing a seemingly endless black tunnel. "Lumos," Harry whispered. It somehow felt wrong to speak too loudly in that room.
The walls were lined with bookcases and littered with pictures and portraits. Harry gazed open-mouthed at the portraits. They didn't have name plaques and he didn't recognise any of them, but the oldest ones probably lived during the Tudor era, while the newest portraits belonged to the Victorian era.
Harry walked silently through the tunnel-like room, awed by the magical aura it emitted. Where the bookcases ended, there was a very detailed family tree. Harry stared at the countless names and the pictures above them. His eyes fell upon Sirius, who was connected not only to his parents and brother, but also three other lines – Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon and Bellatrix Black, the last of which he was also connected to through his parents.
What really sparked Harry's interest were the details of the people's lives beneath the names. Below the little golden square bearing information about his mother was a line leading to him.
Aries Arcturus Black
Mother: Lily Potter née Evans
Father: Sirius Black III
Blood status: Half-blood
Status: Alive
Titles: Lord Potter; Lord Peverell; Heir Black
Harry blinked. He hadn't known he was a lord. And of two houses, no less. Who was Peverell? Cassiopeia hadn't told him of the. He glanced at the two lines next to his name.
Leo Regulus Black
Mother: Marlene Black née McKinnon
Father: Sirius Black III
Blood status: Pure-blood
Status: Alive
Titles: Lord McKinnon,
Harry gasped. Alive... How could he be alive? It was impossible. Sirius – Father – had said so himself – they were dead. Killed by Voldemort. His eyes scanned the next name on the tree.
Elladora Bellatrix Black
Mother: Bellatrix Lestrange née Black
Father: Sirius Black III
Blood status: Pure-blood
Status: Alive
Titles: Heiress Lestrange
Alive. Again. Harry didn't know what to make of this. Could the tree possibly be outdated? But no, the information on every other name had been correct. Harry looked at the pictures of his two half-siblings. They reminded him of something he had seen. Of a dream he had had.
"Take them. Keep them safe. Keep them as far away as you possibly can."
The babies in the basket he had seen in his dream were Elladora and Leo. Harry's eyes widened comically at the realisation. He stood up and ran toward the exit, ignoring the protesting portraits. He had to tell someone.