Title: The Black Vow
Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK Rowling
Author's Notes: AU
-o-o-o-
"She's a what?" Sirius Black was staring, clearly in shock, at his best friend James Potter.
Rolling his hazel eyes, James casually ran his fingers through his unruly black hair then glanced towards his fiancee, Lily Evans. "You want to take this, love?"
"So I can listen to him suddenly start spouting off some sort of immature and ridiculous joke?" Lily asked flatly and shook her head, sending her fiery red hair rippling about her shoulders. "I bloody well don't think so."
"Fine. Lily is a rabbit animagus." James crossed his arms about his chest and glared lightly back at Sirius. "There a problem with that?"
"... You're a stag animagus, marrying a rabit animagus," Sirius said in way of clarification, before suddenly falling onto his knees, staring up at his friend in awe. "Master! I am not worthy!"
For a moment, James and Lily merely stared at Sirius in confusion, before Lily's eyes widened and she groaned, audibly. "Really, Sirius, you can't possibly..."
James turned his head and looked back at Lily, his brows furrowed in confusion. "You actually know what he's on about, Lily?"
"James..." Lily paused a moment as she looked back at her fiancee, before her cheeks flushed lightly. "He's referring to metaphors about the... potency and drives of our respective animagus forms."
"Oh... OH!" James blushed lightly himself, before glaring down at Sirius. "Padfoot..."
"Yes, Milord Prongs?" Sirius was still staring, reverently back up at him, and to be honest, it actually looked half way genuine.
"Honestly, Sirius!" Lily shook her head and rolled her eyes in visible exasperation. "If you're going to make such a show of it, why don't you just make a Fealty Oath and be done with it?"
James' eyes immediately widened and he moved to protest, only to be cut off by the instant shine in Sirius' eyes as he spoke. "Of course! From this day forth, I, Sirius Orion Black, do hereby pledge myself into the service of James Potter and any children he might have! May all Black assets at my disposal be pledged to away from whatever cause they serve and be made anew to serve their needs!"
And in a sudden flash of magic, James turned his head and glared back at Lily. "You're taking blame for any and all repercussions of that."
"Oh, really, James," Lily said with a slight huff of exasperation. "Not even Sirius could cause that much trouble on his own."
As a shiver ran down James' spine, he couldn't help but slowly shake his head. "Oh, how I wish you hadn't said that."
Sadly, no higher powers were listening.
-o-o-o-
With weary eyes, Pollux Black looked at the paper in front of him, October 31st, 1990. It had been nine long years since the Dark Lord had fallen. Nine years in which he'd seen the House of Black decay into nothing but a hollow, empty shell of it's former glory.
He knew the end would be coming soon enough. He could feel it, slowly slipping in with a strangely comfortable chill. Knowing that, he turned his attention to the parchment atop his desktop.
His final Will and Testament.
It had already been submitted to Gringotts and the Ministry weeks before, leaving him with the original while the copies remained waiting for his death to come to into action. Briefly, he considered what he'd done, before a slight smile cracked his lips as he brought his fingers down to lightly brush over the single name listed as beneficiary on the document.
Sirius Black.
There had always been something about that boy. Something off, something different. Something so much more vibrant to him than the rest of their family. Something they'd tried so very hard to crush and destroy. They had even thought they'd succeeded with the news came all those years ago that Sirius had betrayed his blood traitor friends and recognized the glory of the Dark Lord.
Only, as much as he wanted to believe it, it never quite sat right with Pollux. He'd nodded his head to his daughter's ranting, never quite bringing it up that it never made sense for his wayward grandson to have turned his back on everything he'd stood for. Sirius Black had always put his friends over everything else, even his family.
Now, only his grandson and his senile cousin Arcturus were left of the Noble and Ancient House. It fell to Sirius now to determine his family's fate. If he could.
Turning his head, he looked at the sprawling, unmarred expanse of his private copy of the Black Tapestry, and his eyes watered with unshed tears. For all their influence, all their glory, the Black family had fallen into ruin. Somehow, not a single Black had lived to a centennial in over two centuries.
And in that panic to preserve something of their legacy, Orion and Walburga had wasted almost every knut they had in turning their dreary home into a veritable fortress. His remaining sister had long since affirmed herself to the life of spinster hood, and the shining light of his baby sister Dorea had long since gone out of the world, taking her husband and son with her.
Oddly enough, he found his thoughts drifting to his little brother Marius, for the first time in decades as he felt a light pang of regret, not knowing his fate, squib or not. Would he be waiting for him on the other side, or would it be years before he saw his exiled brother again? Shaking his head, his eyes glistened again as he looked over the mark for his son, Alphard, who'd never quite fit with the rest of the family, but had lacked the courage to do anything more than support his nephew who'd had the courage he himself lacked.
He'd passed not long after it had been discovered, the venomous force of Walburga's wrath sending his poor, weak son into a spiral he never recovered. Not that his daughter had lasted much longer past it.
Turning his head, he glanced at the other side of the family tree. There was Bellatrix, of course, who never had and likely never would produce a child, caught up in her madness and lust for her Dark Lord. And Narcissa's boy, his only great-grandson, Draco. He'd wanted to like the child, he well and truly had, but the boy had behaved entirely too much like a miniature version of his father, with too little of beloved granddaughter's cool brilliance.
Of course there was the last name. Oh, how his daughter would have been outraged to see the entries for Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora shining proud and unmarred. She had been the first of his great-grandchildren.
For a moment, he clutched at the memories he had of her in the glimpses he'd managed to steal watching her life from a distance. She would be finishing up her final year at Hogwarts, in fact, probably sitting in the Great Hall at this very moment, enjoying the great feast. A child so brilliantly full of life, he'd left cursing himself a coward for every time he refused to allow himself to meet her.
Sadly, he shook his head. Now, it was too late. The only way he could have brought Andromeda back into the fold, as it were, would have been to dissolve her marriage to Ted Tonks, and he'd seen the true, pure happiness in his granddaughter to even think she'd ever consider it. But that hadn't stopped him from a selfish indulgence.
The right of stolen blood was almost forgotten, but that had kept it from vanishing entirely. A part of him felt no small pang of guilt on classifying the girl as stolen, but he was an dying man, who grasped for the closest thing he could still have to reuniting his shattered family. Even if it was only known to him and the ancient magics of their family.
With a ragged hiss of breath, he could feel the way everything, suddenly seemed so distant, the world softly blurring out of focus as he fell back into his chair. It was time, now to see just what it was that was in store for him. Forcing his head back, he lifted up his chin and refused to slump and fall into that waiting embrace. He would go as a Black should, stiff backed and proud.
It was with that thought, that the final breath left Pollux Black's chest and still rigid and proud, he passed into the night.
And as he died, the sleeping magics of the Ancient and Noble house awoke to the passing from one head to the next.
There was a moment of stillness to the air before the tapestry began to shift and roll as if to an unseen wind that touched nothing else, save the parchment that held a copy of Pollux's will. While not filled with the kind of sentience that drove a mortal mind, it did have a primal understanding, though without will or drive to act on it's own. It's new Master's oath of fealty, almost exactly 13 years old, filled it with purpose, guidance and direction.
So, it moved, reading what needs its emaciated master thought the subject of his oath needed. Then, following the subtle bond between them, it read what needs the subject himself thought of it. All these things were absorbed, and again, it found itself with direction.
Candidates were drawn out and selected, two deemed too old, others not of the blood that it was bound to. But then, it found the first, so close to its new Master. Too old, but not so old that that couldn't be fixed. But, it was broken, diseased in both mind and soul. Its cause was against the cause the new Head had set himself on.
And his oath offered it a solution. Body, mind and soul were drawn back, mended as it found a place to begin. Gently, soothingly it washed away everything past it, erasing scars and unhealed wounds that had etched themselves upon every part of it. Then, the body was made compatible, suitable for it's purpose.
When it was finished, it sensed the dangers it would be in, in the place it was, so gently it laid it to rest, letting it sleep until it was taken from this place. From it though, it felt the connection to another, and another. But one was broken, fractured. It was so much easier for it to follow the other.
Again, in it, it found a cause against the one who it was bound to serve and see to. And again, it explored, finding the wounds and scars almost infinitely smaller and easier to sooth. But, there were bonds, bonds to another family, another cause, bonds that were quite severed, and with it, emotions and feelings quietly muted and deadened until there were only echoes of what they once were. And then the body followed, made compatible as the first had been.
Wearied now, it found the same link it had in the first, broken and fractured, but easier to follow from two directions. At the end, it found itself confused. This was one that it could not touch, removed from its ties to the family, and yet...
Then it found a fresh tie, the tie that filtered through her to the others. This one, already almost perfect. A small change, made compatible. So much easier then the others.
Feeling a thing akin to satisfaction, it spread itself out, again searching. When it found nothing more, it reached out to each of the ones it had touch, each of the ones it had prepared, and it spun new connections to the one that needed. Once it was finished, it pulled back, and again it went to evaluate those needs.
Immediately it noticed the protection on the home the one lived in. Protection based on blood. Blood that was not Black, blood that the new Head did not share. But it was protection, and a magic as strong and almost as primal as its own.
And from that protection it learned, more and more. Of how the one was safe but not, how it needed to be removed to another place, a safe place with blood like this blood. So, a bargain was met, and the new Head was allowed to share in that blood, so that protection would be spread, so the one could be taken from this place.
With that bond, the two mingled and joined, a unity in purpose as they spread into the new Head. The one would have protection. The one would have family.
But the Head was still trapped in the place with the first. A place it knew the Head didn't belong. Uncertainty, then, sudden understanding as it realized the simplest solution.
Let the world know of the Oath. Let them know and know it was unbroken. Let them know in a way that could not be ignored.
-o-o-o-
Bellatrix Lestrange frowned slightly as she felt a sudden warmth flowing through her veins for the first time since she'd been confined to the prison of Azkaban. It was decidedly... odd. Not unpleasant, not even she would object to a bit of warmth after the better part of a decade under the chill of a dementor's presence.
Almost like she was drifting off into a comfortable sleep. For a moment, she considered the possibility she was in trouble, as she couldn't help but note the cold, dirty walls all around her. Still, she couldn't help but feel it was a familiar feeling she couldn't remember feeling since...
There was a pause, as she frowned lightly and looked at the walls again. Where was she? The last thing she remembered...
It was rather difficult to figure out. She remembered casting... what was it? What had that been? It simply slipped through her fingers. She shook her head for a moment, before tilting her head to the side.
She must be going mad. All the pressure from the wedding coming up, she must've gone and cracked. Yes, that was it. With her mother and Aunt Walburga putting so much emphasis and pressure on the importance of her marriage to Rodolphus. Blacks had to marry pure. They had to.
No matter what. It was something she accepted, easily enough. She was a pureblood. And a Black. And it was very important to...
To what?
Bellatrix Black frowned as she looked around her, before suddenly she felt a shudder of uncertain fear run down her spine. This place... it did not look pleasant. Of course, neither did Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion's home, so that wasn't particularly surprising.
But, what did everything seem so... big?
It was so hard to think. So hard to keep her eyes open. She could just let them rest for a moment. Yes, that was it, rest.
It wouldn't... hurt... to just... rest.
She slipped, unknowingly int the first peaceful sleep she'd had in years, as the prison of Azkaban remained as chilly as it had before around her.
-o-o-o-
Narcissa Malfoy frowned. It was not the sort of thing she was want to do, but still, the sudden, strange surge of warmth enfolding her was something both alien and familiar all at once. And it left her more than a little worried.
Immediately, she rose up, even as the comfortable pulse tingled across her skin. It was odd. She had no idea what was happening, and yet, still she couldn't quite help but feel at peace with it.
Which meant it had somehow, already reached her mind.
That in and of itself was disturbing in ways she couldn't quite put to words. Here in the heart of Malfoy Manor, she should have been untouchable. Nothing, not even sympathetic magics should have been able to reach her without making their way past the wards and sending up any number of alerts.
But, there was nothing. Not a single alarm had been sounded. Every one of the wards was perfectly intact as far as she could tell.
She needed to find... Lucius. Yes, Lucius. Things seemed to be getting fainter. Her memory harder to hold onto than usual.
No, she corrected herself as she studied it, duller, less vibrant. Less important.
A frown pursed her lips as she glanced back down at her dress. It seemed looser, bigger than it had moment's ago. This was certainly not good.
She moved up to the door to Lucius' study, and reached out and rapped firmly on the door.
"Come in." Came muffled through the door.
Trying to hold onto what grace and decorum she had left, she reached out, taking hold of the door's knob... had it really been that big before? She turned it, and stepped through. There was Lucius, his eyes absorbed on the paper's in front of him.
"Lucius... Something is... wrong." Her voice seemed higher, softer than she really remembered it being.
"Mmm? What is it love? You sound..." There was a pause as he looked up, before his silver eyes widened in disbelief. "Narcissa! What in Merlin's name...?"
"I... I don't know," she admitted, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, towering over her like he never had before, remembering the comfortable fire of emotion she'd felt for him before, and finding it cooling rapidly. "I just... I'm changing and I don't know why."
Instantly he was moving, spells falling onto her in a flurry of motions as he cast every possible spell he know that could divine what it was that was happening to his wife. Then he felt a sudden, dull emptiness spread through him. His eyes widened further and he quickly cast another spell to verify what he'd already feared.
The bond between them was gone. The bond of marriage, the oaths they'd taken. All completely and utterly dissolved. Something that was, should have been impossible.
But it was happening. It was happening and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Before his eyes, his beautiful wife was shrinking, changing. He could only reach out and grasp hold of her, desperately as he felt her body shrinking down until she was barely the size of their own son.
And he could feel the way she didn't try to hold him back.
Slowly, reluctantly he released her, to find himself staring down at a 10 year old version of his wife, who was staring back at him with a wary detachment. Almost not trusting his voice, he spoke. "Narcissa...?"
"I'm still here," she said quietly, her lips curling lightly down into a frown. "I just... I feel so... different. I remember everything."
"Everything...?" There was a slight bit of hope in his voice.
"Even the deplorable mess that was our first attempt at making love." She paused, blushing lightly, as Lucius winced at the memory.
"I was trying..." he said defensively.
"As was I," she agreed with a nod. "We both failed, spectacularly." There was a pause and she nodded her head. "Still, we did get better."
"Then... you remember...?"
"I remember marrying you, Lucius. I remember loving you. I remember carrying around Draco, giving birth to him, raising him..." she said it all, so softly as she averted her eyes. "But, I barely feel anything for it."
His heart dropped in his chest, as he stared back at her. "I... see."
"Did you... find out what it was?" There was a slight, tentative bit of hope in her voice as she looked up at him.
For a moment, he stared back at her, collecting his thoughts silently before slowly speaking. "Somehow... for some reason, you've been..." He paused there, struggling to find the right word against the thickness of his own tongue. "Reclaimed by the Black Family."
"But... but why?" Narcissa's brow knit in confusion. "Grandfather would never..."
"I don't know," Lucius admitted quietly. "But I will find out."
-o-o-o-
Nymphadora Tonks froze with a glass of pumpkin juice half way to her lips as a sudden pulse of magic began to roll through her. Instantly, her eyes narrowed as she glanced around her. The Weasley twins were joking back and forth, making no effort to look towards or away from her. If they'd done something, the pair of second years would assuredly be watching.
Twisting her head, she began to quickly scan from table to table, searching for anyone watching her, anything out of the ordinary. Only, there was nothing. Everyone was apparently just going about their business as usual. No one was paying attention to her in the slightest.
Frowning, she noticed a familiar, but disjointed sensation. She could feel her body shrinking, but she wasn't the one directing it to. Moving quickly, she cast a number of spells across her food and drink, and found nothing enchanted in the slightest.
"Is something the matter, Ms. Tonks?" the kind faced Professor Pomona Sprout asked kindly as she noted the 7th year's casting.
"Someone… did something to me." Tonks insisted as she could feel the way her whole uniformed seemed looser, her sleeves hanging off her wrists. "I'm shrinking, but I'm not trying to shrink."
"Oh, dear." Frowning, Professor Sprout quickly pulled out her wand and quickly cast a number of spells on the girl. "But… that doesn't make sense!"
As Tonks' eyes widened with worry, the woman quickly turned towards the head table and called out. "Headmaster! We need you!"
"Um, a bit quicker would be appreciated," Tonks noted as she studied the way her hand began to both shrink and smooth millimeter by millimeter.
"What seems to be the problem, Pomona?" Albus Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling as he glanced over at the slowly shrinking Tonks. "Has Ms. Tonks been the victim of another prank?"
"No, she has not!" Professor Sprout declared firmly before she leaned in and whispered some words into his ear.
Immediately Dumbledore's eyes shot wide open. "Oh, dear." Raising his wand, he quickly began to cast a number of spells onto Tonks, his expression growing graver and graver.
After a moment, in which Tonks was certain she lost a good three inches of height and at least a cup size on her chest, he spoke again. "Ms. Tonks… I was unaware your family had resumed relations with your Mother's family."
"Wot?" Tonks blinked, then stared back at Dumbledore in confusion. "I have nothing to do with the Blacks!"
"And yet, here you are, being affected by the Black Family magic, as only someone who's a part of it can be," Dumbledore murmured and stroked his beard. "Most curious, most curious indeed."
"Wot the bloody 'ell is going on?" Tonks could hear her voice was higher than it'd been before, closer to…
Immediately her eyes widened in shock, as she realized what was going on. "Oh, bloody hell no! I just finished going through puberty! I'm not going through it again!"
"I'm afraid, it looks like you might have no choice." Dumbledore winced lightly as the girl leveled a molten glare on him. "Given the circumstances, and the… strained relations between your family and the blacks, perhaps I should be the one to make an inquiry with the current Black Head as to what, exactly, is going on?"
As the now 10 years old Tonks glared back at him, swimming her now vastly oversized clothes, he turned his head and glanced over at Professor Sprout. "And perhaps you should see about getting her some updated clothing and contact her parents?"
"This isn't bloody fair! I just finished growing those boobs! I want them back!"
"I think you're right, Headmaster," Professor Sprout agreed quickly as watched one of her favorite Puffs look about ready to rip out a dragon's throat with her teeth.
-o-o-o-
Albus Dumbledore frowned lightly as he looked at the parchment in front of him, before glancing over at the head of the Department of Relations with Ancient Houses. "This… Doesn't make sense, even with Pollux Black passing his position of Head of the House of Black to Sirius on his death, Sirius has been in no position to invoke anything."
Before the man in front of him could respond, a familiar, angry voice broke through the closed door. "I don't care who he's in a meeting with! I will see him NOW! This is about my wife!"
Blinking slightly, Dumbledore tilted his head lightly to the side. "I do believe that was Lucius Malfoy… And as I recall…"
"His wife was Narcissa Black," Augustus Binder agreed with a nod of his head, before the door to the office was slammed open.
"Binder!" Lucius was almost frothing, his face flushed crimson, before he caught sight of Dumbledore next to the man he was addressing. "YOU!"
"Lucius." Dumbledore nodded his head before peering over his half moon spectacles. "Perhaps it would be best if you took a moment to compose yourself?"
"My wife has somehow been turned into a 10-year old child, been disconnected with the emotions she has for myself and our son, and has been reclaimed by the Black family!" Lucius snarled back at the man. "One does not compose one's self from that!"
"Ah." Dumbledore nodded lightly as he turned back to Augustus. "Interesting. The same thing, save perhaps the emotional disassociation, happened to your niece."
Lucius immediately stiffened up, his back rigid. "I have no niece."
"Really, Lucius, did you think I would forget about the three sisters Black just because one of them was cast out by her… relations?" Dumbledore pursed his lips and shook his head. "I had thought it was something to do with unattached ladies of the Black family, or something of the sort. Alas, Narcissa being so affected does disprove that idea."
Shaking his head he slowly stroked her beard. "Though, in that case, I'm surprised that Andromeda herself wasn't affected."
"She was cast out," Lucius said flatly as he glared back at Dumbledore.
"And yet, young Nymphadora…" Dumbledore answered back with his eyes glittering.
"Was claimed back into the Black Family by Pollux Black, as Stolen Blood," Augustus said mildly as he glanced from one of the men to the other. "And as I was about to inform you, there is a precedent for something like this happening before. Especially considering the Ancient and Noble House of Black passed into a Fealty Oath last night when Pollux Black died and its new Head was accepted."
"A Fealty Oath?" Lucius Malfoy paled for a moment, before suddenly clutching at the cane that contained his wand. "What idiot would put the House of Black into that kind of situation?"
"Mmm... Well, I was rather shocked when I learned it myself, but Pollux Black placed his surviving Grandson as his heir." Augustus noted as he noted the immediate widening of both men' s eyes. "Yes, quite."
"Oh… oh dear," Dumbledore muttered softly under his breath, before glancing lightly towards Lucius and blinking in surprise at what he saw.
Lucius' face was completely ashen as he looked positively sickened as he posed a question. "Who is the Fealty Oath to?"
"Ah, that's where it gets even more intriguing," Augustus said as he flipped through his paperwork. "Sirius Black entered into a Fealty Oath to James Potter and his children in 1978. It was worded in a way that when he inherited his position, the Magic of the Ancient and Noble house was invoked, and therefore, affected Narcissa, Nymphadora, and… Bellatrix."
Both Lucius and Dumbledore paled further, though for different reasons.
"And the vow is still… unbroken?" Dumbledore asked weakly.
Lucius himself was more distracted by the simple thought of his wife, and Voldemort's most fanatical follower both bound up in an oath of fealty. His face took on a particularly unhealthy shade of green at both thoughts. He only vaguely heard Augustus continue.
"Yes, completely intact and quite strong from what I can tell," Augustus said simply before arching a brow towards Dumbledore. "Which means, I think someone might want to get to Azkaban."
"I… quite right," Albus muttered softly under his breath as he lightly reached a hand up, rubbing against a temple. "And I suppose I'll have to have someone check in on Mrs. Lestrange..."
"Black," Augustus corrected immediately, causing both men to look at him blankly. "Per the magic of the family, their names have been updated. Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black, Nymphadora Black."
"I..." Lucius swallowed, slowly, taking a deep breath, before his eyes narrowed into silvery slits. "And my son's status?"
"As I haven't seen anything to contradict it, I imagine he remains Draco Malfoy." There was a pause as he arched a brow. "Unless of course you were hoping he ended up something like Nashira Black."
The angry scowl that Lucius sent at the man, made Augustus nod his head. "Yes, I thought not."
-o-o-o-
The pulsing chill of Azkaban has seemed strangely... diminished for the last two days, though, only enough for one Sirius black to wonder if perhaps he'd finally started to grow accustomed to the deeper than bone chill. In that time, he'd never quite seen the crimson highlights that had grown in his hair. Nor had he noticed the slightest shade of jade his previously grey eyes had become.
As he was want to do, he found his mind drifting back towards thoughts of the Potters, and more specifically, his godson Harry. He'd be going to Hogwarts soon, if he wasn't yet. It was so hard to tell how long he'd been here, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had some semblance of the date.
Only, this time, he didn't imagine the bright eyed boy living in some big house, with loving care takers, happy and healthy as a child should be. No, these thoughts, these imaginations, showed Harry in a far, far different stated. A small, timid child, filled with fear and uncertainty, lorded over by guardians who were apathetic at best and at worst... not quite as foul as his own mother, though close.
That Harry lived not in a massive bedroom filled with toys and trinkets, but in a cupboard under the stairs. A dark, small place of spiders and twitching insects. Lying down without a mattress and only threadbare blankets to cover himself in.
Restlessly he shifted and paced about his cell during those times, trying to drive those thoughts and images out.
But somehow, he could never quite seem to escape them.
And of course, his insane cousin would choose these days to go quiet on him. He hadn't heard so much as a peep out of Bellatrix since the thoughts had started. The kind of silence he'd never heard from her before.
She'd have hours sometimes where she'd be quiet, usually after a frothing fit where she'd work herself into a frenzy then collapse in exhaustion. But she hasn't had one this time. And never before had she been quite this long.
A part of him couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe she'd finally gone and just kicked the bucket. He doubted he'd be that lucky, but still... He didn't know what the thought of her death left him feeling saddened instead of uplifted.
Everything was simply too odd of late.
And now, he apparently had visitors. This was just getting curiouser and curiouser.
"On your feet, Black." The voice sounded like it had just tasted something horribly foul. "You're going for a walk."
"A... walk?" Sirius tilted his head to the side, not quite responding to the voice just yet. "What?"
"I told you to get on yer feet," the voice said with a growl. "The Head Warlock wants you for some Merlin knows reason, and it's my job to deliver you. So, get your arse up and get over here so I can secure you properly."
"Or else...?" There was a pause, and a note of challenge in Sirius' voice as he glanced back at the figure standing past the bars.
"Or else, I have to go and stun you, trust you up myself, and then levitate your damned body out of here myself. In which case, I will likely make damned sure I accidentally managed to hit your head and bollucks against any hard surface I can reasonably run you into," the voice growled back.
"Ah, that kind of or else," Sirius said with a nod and tilted his head to the side as if in consideration, before letting out a weary, theatrical sigh and slowly standing up. "If I must."
"So glad you agree." The words were almost spat out of the man's mouth. "Now get your damned arse up here."
Trying to put up as much casual grace as he could, Sirius stood up, making a motion to lightly brush nothing from the tattered front of his shirt. With an indifferent air, he did his best to stride forward, through his legs would buckle slightly every third step. Finally, he pushed his wrists through the rectangular slot in the barred door.
"Here you go, luv," Sirius grinned back at the figure, revealed to be a glowering man. "Do you want us to give you a kiss to?"
"Only kiss I want to see involving you, is between you and a Dementor, Black," the man said with a glare as he firmly fastened a pair of manacles on the man's wrists, lined with pulsing, angry red symbols.
"Ah, I'm sorry, but they just aren't sassy enough for my tastes. Cold fish they are," Sirius said with a half hearted, lopsided grin.
The man snorted in amusement in spite of himself before glaring back at Sirius. "You know the drill back, back up away from the door."
"Ah but of course." Sirius took a step back, managing a grand bow, before stumbling down and almost falling to his knees.
Walking up the man flicked out his wand and with with a flash, Sirius was lifted up into the air. Manager another weak grin, Sirius pressed his knees together as he said, "Please, do be gentle! It's been so long since I've been properly... shackled."
"Cute." The man shook his head and attached the shackles to Sirius' ankles.
When he dropped to floor, Sirius again stumbled, this time collapsing fully onto his knees. Standing over him, the man shook his head and stepped back out of the cell. "Get up and move it."
"Right, right..." Sirius pushed himself back up to his feet and began to shamble out. "Guards these days, no sense of adventure..."
"You really just aren't right in the head, Black," the man muttered sourly before shaking his head as he flicked a spell towards Sirius as soon as he left his cell and froze him in place. "Now, stay put, I've gotta get that damned crazy bitch of a cousin of yours."
"Wait, nobody said anything about Bellatrix being involved!" Sirius quickly protested as he stared back at the man, wild eyed.
"I did."
"When?"
"Just now," the man said flatly, his back to Sirius as he approached Bellatrix's cell.
"That doesn't count!" Sirius immediately whined.
"Your protests don't count." The man frowned as he looked into the cell. "Oi! Lestrange! On your feet!"
"Since when?"
"Since you were locked up in here," the man responded without looking at him. "Get your arse up, Lestrange! This ain't nap time!"
"That's not fair!" Sirius growled lightly and glanced nervously around. "And really, we don't need her! I'll be happy to go along all by my lonesome."
"Wrong," the man said simply, before muttering an oath and firing a stunner into the cell. He then cautiously opening it and stepping inside.
"I lodge a formal protest at this!" Sirius shook softly as he felt a sudden, creeping chill digging down his spine. "And not to bring about any pressing concerns, but the Dementors seem to be on their way, so, any time now!"
"What do I care about the Dementor's getting in... What the Bloody Thrice Damned Fuck?"
As soon as the words left the man's mouth, a heavy silence descended on the air, and Sirius glanced nervously at the cell. "Um... you ok in there?"
When nothing answered him, Sirius struggled to move against the spell holding him, as a well of panic began to clench in his stomach. "Hey! Sunshine! You there!"
"Oh, keep your panties on, Black!" The voice finally came back as the man appeared again, followed by... something far far too small to be the full grown woman that was Bellatrix Lestrange, even after years of neglect.
"Um... Do I even want to know what you've got there...?" Sirius asked warily as he tried to push himself as far back as the spell restraining him would allow.
"Don't know, don't care. You're carrying her," the man stated flatly with the hints of a cruel smirk on his lips.
"Wait, her? Hold up!" Sirius immediately protested as the figure was levitated over and pushed against his chest, and his suddenly free arms reflexively caught hold of her.
Glancing down, Sirius stared in bewilderment at the almost angelically peaceful looking creature in his arms. Then he got a second look. Immediately, his face paled and he stared back at the man. "You can't be serious!"
"I'm not carrying her, and I'm not wasting the magic to keep up a spell for that long. The High Warlock wants both of you, and he's going to get both of you. Now move!"
"I really, really formally protest," Sirius muttered as he adjusted the little girl that was apparently Bellatrix Lestrange. "This is cruel and unusual punishment! And this coming from a guy that's been stuck here for however damned log it's been!"
"Nine years," the man said gruffly. "Almost exactly nine years."
"... Oh." Sirius paused a moment staring back at the sleeping figure of Bellatrix as mental calculations quickly ground through his head. If he remembered correctly, Harry should be 10 years old right now. Roughly the same age Bellatrix appeared to be.
He really, really had a bad feeling about this.
-o-o-o-
"Ah, Sirius, thank you for coming." Albus Dumbledore nodded his head towards Sirius' escort. "Thank you, Edmund, and I do apologize for having to make you go all the way down there. I'll let you know when I might need you again."
The man frowned as he glanced towards Sirius and where he still held Bellatrix in his arms. "Sir, surely you don't mean to have me leave you alone with this... convict."
"Ah, but alas, it would seem that with the rather illustrious times, they went and forgot to give Sirius here a trial," Dumbledore stated with a half smile. "So, I'm afraid, Edmund, that calling him a convict would be incorrect."
"So, what, this is about getting him a trial?" Edmund asked, doubt heavy in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at the blinking Sirius. "And what about Lestrange then? I know she in fact did get a trial."
"Events that occurred to bring to light the miscarriage of justice, also affected young Bellatrix in what is sure to be quite the... profound way," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I had you bring her to determine just how profound, considering what we know of what happened to her sister and niece."
"... Please, please tell me that you mean Narcissa and a daughter she had after I was locked up," Sirius said with a whimper as the bad feeling he'd had earlier only got worse.
"I can, at least in part," Dumbledore agreed with a nod of his head. "Sadly, Narcissa has never had a daughter, at this point in time."
"... And whatever's affecting Bellatrix and Narcissa is also affecting Romeda's girl?" Sirius was deathly pale as he stared back at Dumbledore.
"It was her transformation during the Halloween Feast that first alerted us to the situation," Dumbledore agreed, smiling faintly back at Sirius. "Congratulations, by the way, on your inheritance of the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."
"... Huwha?" Sirius stared back at Dumbledore, his jaw hanging in disbelief.
"Perhaps you would like to take a seat?" Dumbledore offered before smiling apologetically to Edmund. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave us for this next part, Edmund. Private matters, you'll have to understand."
"Sir..." Edmund began to protest.
"Unless, of course, you're under the impression that I can't handle myself against a wandless individual who's spend the last 9 years in Azkaban?" There was a mix of curiosity, chiding and warning in the man's voice as he lightly rebuked Edmund.
"No sir," Edmund agreed with a wince, before glaring at Sirius a moment and stiffly walking out.
A few brief flicks of Dumbledore's wand followed, and suddenly the room was coated in a pulsing incandescent glow from ceiling to floor before quickly fading. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, he turned his head and couldn't quite bring himself to look into Sirius' eyes. "Oh, Sirius my boy, I owe you an apology words cannot express..."
"Excuse me, but I'm still still struggling to overcome the idea that I'm the Head of the Black family. I mean... Both the old codgers passed, and one of them was crazy enough to name me heir?" Sirius breathed out the words as he slowly slumped into a comfortable chair.
"Arcturus still lives, but he has, sadly, become beyond addle-minded. It was Pollux who decided, for some reason known only to himself, that you would become the Head of the Family." There was a pause, before Dumbledore's face grew slightly grim. "Then, there is the matter of your oath and it's... changes. What were you thinking, Sirius?"
"My... oath?" Sirius blinked lightly as he unconsciously shifted Bellatrix about on his lap, his brow knit in confusion. "Um... which oath?"
The look Dumbledore gave him made him shrink slightly into the chair, as he quickly raised his hands in protest. "Whaaaat? You're going to have to be more specific! I've made a few! I'm going to guess you don't mean the one to do my best to get invited to the Harpies' locker room?"
"... No, Sirius, I am not talking about that particular vow." The slightest of twitches rippled against Dumbledore's brow. "And what in Merlin's name you think that it was such a grand idea to throw magically binding vows out so... casually!"
"Because I've only got a few of them that are actually binding?" Sirius offered with a shrug. "I really did my best to get invited, I failed spectacularly." He paused, then grinned lightly. "Well, not quite spectacularly, I did get some wonderful dates with one of the chasers."
"I'm referring to one that was in fact, binding." As Sirius furrowed his brow in thought, he coughed softly and said, "The Fealty Oath, Sirius."
"Hmm?" Sirius paused a moment as he continued to furrow his brow. "Fealty Oath... Fealty Oath... Why does that... Oh!" Immediately an expression of comprehension flashed across his face. "The one Lily goaded me into making!"
"... I shouldn't be surprised anymore at my age, and yet, life continues to astound me," Dumbledore said with a soft mutter. "Lily Potter Nee Evans was the one to goad you into making the Oath?"
"Well, in my defense, I had just found out that Prongs was engaged to a rabbit animagus," Sirius said with a hopeful grin on his lips.
"... Sirius, I have long since truly wondered about the sanity of yourself and your companions. I thank you for putting any lingering doubts about whether or not you were truly mad to rest," Dumbledore said slowly and carefully before continuing. "Now that we have covered the fact that you are indeed even more barmy than myself, there is a matter of the repercussions of your Oath."
"Um..." Sirius glanced down at the still unconscious Bellatrix and then looked back at Albus. "I'm going to guess... this has something to do with it?"
"Among other things," Dumbledore agreed as he conjured up a mirror in front of Sirius.
"Ugh, the years haven't been... waaaaaaaaait a second. Is someone playing a prank on me?" Sirius glanced back at Dumbledore. "Come on, Professor, red highlights and green eyes?"
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed with a nod of his head. "Red highlights and green eyes. Rather familiar isn't it?"
"Errr, what would a slight resemblance to Lily have to do with all of this," Sirius couldn't help but ask.
Moving forward, Dumbledore pressed his elbows onto his knees and threaded his fingers together before his mouth. "You see, Sirus, you worded your oath to best support the family, and in this case, Harry's needs. Allowing your assets to be made anew for it in fact. Harry happens to need a continuation of the blood protection his mother's sacrifice lent him."
There was a pause, before his head leaned forward, allowing him to look back at Sirius over his half moon spectacles. "A protection enhanced by him living with someone from his mother's side of his family."
"Meaning, what?" Sirius leaned back into the seat, suddenly acutely aware of just how tired he really was. "And what do you care? It's been 9 years, Dumbledore. Tell me, was I truly so believable as a traitor that it took something like this to make you see the light?"
"As I said, Sirius, there aren't words enough to express the depth of the apology I owe you," Dumbledore said with a resigned sigh. "However, I know that does you little good in the here and now."
"Damned right it doesn't," Sirius agreed with a light growl.
"There is also the matter of the repercussions of your oath," Dumbledore said lightly as he shifted slightly. "Not just in the matter of Bellatrix there, but in the matter of Narcissa and, more importantly, I think, young Nymphadora."
"Oh... oh bugger." Sirius paled dramatically as he glanced around. "Um, I suppose I'm going to be sent back to Azkaban in the mean time? Around those nice, safe dementors?"
"I'm afraid you're scheduled to have a hearing shortly," Dumbledore said with an apologetic look on his face. "So, your reunion with your beloved jailors will have to wait."
"Dammit, you're going to make me go free, where she can get me, aren't you?" Sirius whined softly as he pouted up at the older man.
"Why Sirius, I have no idea what you could mean." Dumbledore gazed down at Sirius over his half moon spectacles. "I'm doing this so that you can take care of Harry." There was a momentary pause as he looked back at Sirius. "You do want to take care of Harry, don't you, Sirius?"
"… Oh, do you know how much I hate you?" Sirius glared balefully back at Dumbledore.
"Now, now, I come bearing lemon drops." Dumbledore smiled lightly as he lifted up a small bag of candies and shook them in front of Sirius' eyes.
Sirius froze lightly, his eyes following the bag hawk, before he suddenly shook his head violently. "No! You can't bury this one under a bag of lemon drops!"
"How about an Ever-Full bag of lemon drops?" Dumbledore continued as he kept the bag swaying back and forth in front of the man's eyes.
Sirius stared longingly at the bag, before again, shaking his head. "No! Not this time! I will not be bought off by candy! I will not be assuaged!"
"I see." Dumbledore nodded his head sadly as he tucked the bag back into his robe and looked mournfully back at Sirius. "Please, Sirius, you must take responsibility for the actions and choices you've made. For Harry's sake."
"I still hate you." Sirius grumbled lightly and glowered back at the man before standing up and setting the still sleeping Bellatrix on the chair. "If I'm going to do this… Shave. Haircut…"
"Two bits?" Dumbledore asked helpfully.
"I'm going to need a damned sight more than two bits for this. NINE years! NINE!" Sirius glared back at Dumblefore, before continuing on. "I was going to say I'll need some new robes and some freshening charms if I can't have a shower."
Sirius paused a moment as he glanced back at Dumbledore. "I'm going to assume they aren't giving me a chance to have a fresh shower, now are they?"
"Well, yes…" Dumbledore agreed with a wince, before holding up his wand and suddenly beaming. "But I'll be happy to take care things!"
"I know." Sirius nodded his head and closed his eyes as he spread out his arms. "And since I can't convince you to put me out of my misery…" He paused there opening an eye. "You sure I can't?"
"Quite positive my boy," Dumbledore admitted mournfully. "But look at it this way, this is for Harry's greater good."
"Fine, let's get it over with." Sirius grumbled softly and closed his eye again.
And so, Dumbledore went to work, his wand flicking delicately with his wrist as magic began to flow towards Sirius.
Immediately the difference was recognizable. Fine black hair was untangled as clumps of dirt, dust, oil and all other manner of decontaminates evaporated, and split ends seamlessly merged back together. Another slightest flick, and the lightly rolling locks were trimmed to an elegant length just against his shoulders.
A moment later, the scraggly beard that had extended down a somewhat respectable distance from Sirius' cheeks was similarly cleaned. Then, there was a quick trim, as gaunt cheeks were hidden beneath a carefully trimmed beard with a curling mustache. A flick, and Sirius fought back a yelp as his thick brows received a slight bit of change, being plucked and sculpted just enough to give a well kept appearance.
Then, Sirius could feel a slight scrubbing sensation, gentle and slick moving over his skin as years of rot and grime were banished beneath a warming exfoliation. He fought down a yelp at as a bit more pressure than was needed was applied to his bum, and he dared crack open his eyes a moment to glare back at the man. Dumbledore grinned back unrepentant.
Then, the flow of magics reached out into the tattered prison uniform he'd warn for years, and the very fabric itself unraveled, the threads transfiguring into longer, thinner, finer material. In an instant, it began to reweave itself about Sirius' body. A second instant later, Sirius stood there, dressed in an impeciably tailored purple, double breasted suit with buttons and black suede shoes, complete with a slightly tilted trilby hat atop his head.
When Sirius felt the flow of magic and spells inevitably halt, he cracked an eye open to find himself standing before a full length mirror. Turning slightly, Sirius allowed a light smirk to place across his lips as he twisted and turned. Finally, nodding his head he stepped aside and glanced towards a pleased looking Dumbledore.
"Not bad, you do good work," Sirius said with a nod.
"Yes, I always did have a certain desire to pursue a career in the cosmopolitan arts… Alas, my father thought it was unbecoming. As did Gellert, and Nicolas, and…" Dumbledore paused, his face coloring lightly. "Well, I'm sure you can extrapolate the long list of names that followed."
"Well, let me know if you ever need a reference." Sirius lightly tipped his hat to the man before grimacing lightly. "I suppose that it's time for use to continue then?"
"There is the matter of your 'young' charge." Dumbledore nodded his head towards the still sleeping Bellatrix.
"What are we even going to do to her?" Sirius muttered aloud as he stared down at the rather angelic looking little girl before glancing back at Dumbledore.
"Well, first matter is of course, ascertaining whether or not she still maintains any… visible signs of her loyalty." Dumbledore noted, as he reached down and gently rolled up the girl's sleeves.
Both arms were completely and utterly bare of anything except dirt and grime.
"It would seem, her previous affiliations have been… wiped clean as it were. Still, we cannot do much until we learn of what has been done to her mind." Dumbledore noted, before gently waving his wand over Bellatrix's form.
A few moments later, the suddenly cleaned up girl was wearing an almost doll-like dress of white, trimmed in a shade of winter blue, with small little flower patterns spreading across it.
Sirius snorted lightly in amusement. "You know, she always hated those kind of dresses."
"Really? Why, I never would have imagined." Dumbledore nodded his head a bit before smiling blissfully back at Sirius. "Then I suppose it's a good thing she's otherwise indisposed, now isn't it?" He paused a moment, before pulling out the bag of lemon drops again. "Lemon drop?"
"… I'm still not forgiving you that easily." Sirius grumbled, but none-the-less took one of the candies, much to Dumbledore's enjoyment.
-o-o-o-