Chapter 69
Revelations & Preparations
Harold Potter removed his horn-rimmed spectacles and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Replacing them, he reached for his teacup and grimaced at the taste of tea long gone cold. He considered asking Phoebe to rescue him with a fresh pot but his gaze landed on the grandfather clock next to his office door. Seven o'clock – and his secretary had left for home long ago. Hal smiled to himself and reached for his wand. Moments later, a pot of tea, sugar, a jug of milk and three mugs appeared on a low table in the sitting area of his large office. Margaret would be horrified with conjured refreshments, he smiled to himself, picturing his wife rolling her eyes at his magical feat. A whoosh of air and a flash of green brought Hal out of his thoughts and he turned to see Albus Dumbledore stepping onto the hearth, brushing soot from his robes as he did so.
"Efficient method of travel, but terrible on one's robes," he remarked, smiling ruefully as he shook the other man's hand.
"Please, sit down," Hal invited, gesturing to one of the overstuffed chairs. "Tea?"
Once settled, the headmaster gestured to a sheaf of parchment on the table between them. "You've been busy."
Hal nodded. "I've asked Edgar Bones to join us, as well. In addition to what I've been able to uncover, he has some interesting facts to share."
He had barely finished his sentence when Edgar stepped from the cool, green flames and greeted the men before him.
"Thanks for coming, Edgar; much appreciated," Hal saw him settled into the remaining chair before taking his own again. "There have been … developments … in our investigation into Daniel Follensbee. Albus, there's no point in beating about the bush; as of this morning, we've confirmed that Follensbee is dead. "
The Headmaster peered sharply at the other man and sighed. "I can't say that I'm completely surprised," he commented.
Hal nodded. "I think it would be helpful to start at the beginning – well, what we know to be the beginning at the moment and follow the thread from there." At Dumbledore's nod, Hal continued, "Of course, as Follensbee worked for the Ministry several years ago, we began here. After finishing school, Follensbee went through the usual application process, and was selected to fill a vacancy in the Research department," he stated, glancing over his notes. "
"…with young Mr. Pettigrew's late father, as I recall," Dumbledore said.
Hal and Edgar exchanged a glance, and then Hal spoke again. "They worked in different sections of the Research Department but were there at the same time, yes. Overall, Follensbee's tenure was quite short – just under two months - and he left the Ministry two days after Hamish Pettigrew died. We've made inquiries," Hal paused, turning toward Edgar once again, "unofficial inquiries, an effort Edgar and his team have undertaken on our behalf on more than one occasion, as you well know. Edgar, why don't you continue?"
Bones withdrew a file from his satchel and took a moment to scan its contents before he began. "We've used Follensbee's Ministry records as a launch point, although there was painfully little to work with. There was no next of kin, no emergency contacts. As it happens, his home address actually belonged to a widowed witch, one Amberlin Bellowes, who let rooms to professional witches and wizards on a short-term basis. Mrs. Bellowes was willing to speak with us but could not provide information relative to family or social contacts, as Follensbee had no visitors. She remembers only that he was a quiet tenant who kept to himself and paid for his accommodation in a timely manner. That said, Mrs. Bellowes told usthat he did not give notice before he left, however; he told her the night before his departure that he was being sent on to another assignment and would be gone in the morning. Mrs. Bellowes told us that as Follensbee had just paid his rent for the coming month, she told him that she would visit the bank first thing in the morning to withdraw and refund his money."
"That was generous of her," Albus commented. "And did she do so?"
Edgar shook his head. "He was gone when she arose the following morning."
"Ah," the older wizard nodded. "And, of course, there was no 'other assignment' or transfer noted in his file."
"None." Bones closed his file and looked at Dumbledore for a moment before continuing. "Albus, I must ask for your discretion in what I'm – we're – about to tell you. " At Dumbledore's nod, he continued. "As you know, my firm's periodic partnership with the Ministry relies on its ability to remain anonymous to move in places and access information more easily than Ministry officials. My contacts and associates inhabit both the Magical and Muggle worlds and many of them are at some risk should those associations be exposed. In short, the continued success of our efforts relies largely on our affiliations remaining confidential."
Dumbledore nodded. "I have often found that when resources are joined and partnerships formed in the pursuit of good, it truly doesn't matter which world they inhabit. I also realize the need for secrecy in some instances; it has long been so, particularly in those alliances between us and those in the Muggle world. If you trust your resources, Edgar, then I trust them. I see no need to ask for their identities or to question your judgment in these matters. Please, continue."
"Thank you," Edgar smiled. "Based on the lack of information in Follensbee's file and limited, strictly anecdotal information available from the one lead we did have, I engaged my contacts in Scotland Yard. Follensbee's disappearance from our world was so complete, so absolute; I felt we needed to avail ourselves of their expertise. We revisited Mrs. Bellowes – this time with a police sketch artist from the Yard. We asked her to describe Follensbee, to the best of her memory. Once we had what the Muggle police refer to as a composite sketch, we asked their detectives to review the artist rendering against their caseload of unidentified deceased persons. This morning, they notified us of a match. I met with the case detective and, in comparing the composite sketch to the file photographs of the victim, there's absolutely no question that it's Follensbee."
Albus leaned forward. "And how old was this particular case?"
Hal smiled grimly, "Six years." Retrieving his file from the side table and pulling out notes from the Scotland Yard investigation, he continued. "According to the detective's report, Follensbee was found slumped on a bench, outside of Kings' Cross Station. He had no identification, was dressed in Muggle clothing and the individual who reported finding him did so anonymously. By the time the police responded to the call, they were nowhere to be found. Edgar?" Hal paused, turning to the other man. "You are far more experienced than I with the process the authorities follow; care to take over?"
"Of course. Follensbee was taken to the Muggle morgue where their coroner examined him to determine the cause of his death. Their records indicate that a small puncture wound was found on the inside of his left arm. Based on that finding, combined with his appearance, the poor condition of his clothing, the lack of identification and the location of the body, the coroner determined that Follensbee died of a drug overdose. He reported the detail to the detectives handling the case and the Yard decided that a full autopsy was not warranted. They tagged Follensbee as a "John Doe" – "
"Muggle terminology for an unidentified deceased person," Hal interjected.
Edgar nodded. " – and the case was filed away. Oh – the coroner also took impressions of Follensbee's fingerprints, as well. Standard procedure in these cases. There was no match in their system which would indicate that he had no Muggle arrest record."
Albus stood up and walked over to the mantle. Staring into the flames for several minutes, he finally spoke. "Peter Pettigrew's father worked with this man; whether or not they were closely associated. Follensbee joined the Ministry some eight weeks before Hamish's death and now appears to have, himself, perished some two days later. Six years later, a very corporeal Daniel Follensbee surfaces in London for a meeting with Hamish's son. " He turned to face the other men. "Given all that's happening in our world at the moment, I must say this demands further attention. Hal, do you know of any current members of the Research staff who were employed in the department six years ago? It strikes me that we could possibly learn more about how well Hamish and Mr. Follensbee knew each other back then. Also, did Follensbee's personnel file indicate where he went to school? His early … affiliations … could prove informative."
Hal nodded. "The Research department has two employees who remain from that original team; others have retired or left the Ministry for positions in the private sector. One is out of the country on holiday and the other has taken a temporary leave to deal with a family matter. Both out of touch but we will speak with them upon their return. I believe that it would be counterproductive at this point to have Edgar's team track them down and speak with them prior to that time; there's no point in arousing anyone's suspicions. Depending upon their recollections, it may be useful to reach out to the former Ministry employees. As for Follensbee's employment application…he is an alumnus of Beauxbatons."
"Interesting," Dumbledore mused, returning to his seat. "If you have no objections, I will owl Mme. Maxime, my counterpart at Beauxbatons, and request a copy of Mr. Follensbee's student record. There may be much to learn from it."
Edgar made a note to his file. "I have requested a copy of the full file from my contact at the Yard, as well as an inventory of the personal effects that may have been kept."
Albus continued, "The need to recover his wand from their possession, if there, cannot be emphasized enough."
Hal put down his quill and closed his file. "Follensbee – or more to the point, the individual posing as Follensbee – must be our priority. He's accessed a student, to what purpose we can't be certain, but given the bigger picture, I'm convinced that his outreach may easily be the means to an end. We need to learn everything we can. Albus, the benefit in speaking directly with Peter is obvious, as is, unfortunately, the risk."
Albus nodded. "Young Mr. Pettigrew has the benefit of a very loyal circle of friends. There may have been conversations amongst them that would augment what we've discussed here this evening. If properly approached, and not made to feel disloyal to him, we may learn information useful to our efforts."
The three wizards were quiet for several moments, each considering what had been discussed and conversations that were yet to come. Finally, Hal spoke up, "While I trust your judgment, Albus, and agree that there may be information to be gained, I am also concerned about inadvertently initiating any further investigatory undertakings by those friends. They are brighter than they should be and most determined when the mood strikes them. They are already quite curious about Follensbee based on Peter's reaction when they mentioned to him that they'd heard about the meeting in London. We know so little about this situation and it is not out of the question that they could influence the outcome of our investigation – and potentially put themselves and Peter at risk, as well."
Albus shook his head slightly, "I am not often torn between one action and another," he spoke softly. "I find myself in that situation now. The safety of the students – all students – entrusted to our care is of paramount concern, yet there is no choice that does not potentially bring its own risk. Young Peter's meeting with someone claiming to be a deceased ex-Ministry employee presents us with risk because we have no idea as to the reason for it. Why would someone need to conceal his identity by assuming that of someone who's dead? Is the risk limited to the one student – or is this part of something that poses risk to many? And why this student?" Albus looked at his companions. "Do we choose to disregard this instance and hope that your investigation reveals pertinent details that will inform our future plans? Do we share some degree of information with his roommates in an effort to ensure that future meetings are duly reported and, potentially, that more information is revealed?"
"There is risk in all options," Hal gazed shrewdly at the older wizard. "That said, it might be prudent to speak directly with Peter to gauge what, if anything, he may know. Stress the confidentiality of our discussion and see where it leads us. We would be better informed in our approach with his friends, if we then felt compelled to take one. I might suggest that I speak with the boy. Edgar," he turned to the other wizard, who had begun to make notes in his file as he listened. "I believe I could credibly position my conversation with Peter as relevant to the Rivers girl's disappearance."
The other man glanced at the Headmaster before responding. "Agreed. I also think it would be beneficial – and easily explained – if you included Peter's friends in your schedule. Peter would undoubtedly think it odd if he were the only student interviewed and by speaking with the rest, you could also gain some additional insight into Peter's reaction to their knowledge of the meeting."
Albus nodded. "I believe this strategy will give us the best opportunity to learn as much as possible about several aspects of Mr. Follensbee's impersonator. One wonders how this may connect with our other matter…"
"Thomas O'Hanlon," Hal stated. "I'll admit that this crossed my mind as well. I am confident that the combination of all of our efforts will point us toward the answer to that question."
Albus rose. "If that's all, gentlemen, I will say goodnight. Hal, I will speak with you on Saturday before you return to London, yes?"
"Of course." Hal also rose and shook the Headmaster's hand. "Albus, I understand that Sirius' parents are meeting with you tomorrow."
Albus inclined his head, his eyes devoid of their usual mirth. "Indeed."
"James tells me that Sirius will be present for this meeting – at his request."
Albus patted Hal's shoulder. "You're concerned, of course. "
"Curious, I'll admit; I'm confident that Sirius will be well protected during this encounter," Hal smiled.
"He will, indeed," Albus confirmed. "You know, Sirius has achieved some degree of closure with Orion, courtesy of their very brief encounter before the young people traveled to Brighton. I believe that this meeting will, in part, allow him to accomplish something of the sort with his mother."
"To what purpose?"
Albus turned again to the Floo pot on the mantle. Grasping a handful of powder, he glanced back at Hal, "Negotiating a truce, of sorts, to end one relationship in hopes of preserving another." Albus looked over toward Edgar, nodded and, dropping the powder onto the flames, clearly announced his return to Hogwarts.
XXXXXXXXXX
Back at Hogwarts, the subject of the older wizards' discussion was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the confrontation scheduled for the following day. Although confident in his decision to be present when his parents met with Dumbledore, Sirius found his thoughts straying to the last time he'd been in the same room with his mother, a memory that was distinctly unsettling. As the evening progressed, Sirius became more subdued and his friends increased their efforts to distract him from his thoughts. Sirius knew they meant well, but he found that their attempts only made things worse as he was unable to join in their conversation. Eventually, he gave it up and told the group that he was going to take a stroll around the castle – perhaps visiting his uncle – before coming back and turning in for the night. He gave Kate's shoulder a gentle squeeze in reassurance as he passed her chair on his way to the portrait hole and the corridor beyond. Stay put, Katie-girl. I know you're worried but I need to think this one through on my own.
As he had done so many months before in the hours after the Prank, Sirius' thoughts overtook him and he walked without conscious destination. Head down and hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, the young wizard traversed the winding stone passageways of the castle and climbed staircases that, fortunately, remained stationary. As he made his way along, images flooded his mind – Regulus, fading into the face of Orion and always, always, the shift from Orion into Walburga. Mother. Sirius snorted softly. He doubted she even knew what that word meant. Actually, he was certain of it. He thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore surrounding his decision to be present for at least a portion of the discussion with his parents. While Sirius believed that this was the necessary means to an end, he was grateful beyond measure that the formidable headmaster would be there to stand between him and the people who had not been parents in any sense of that word.
A light breeze pulled Sirius from his thoughts and he looked up to find himself at the foot of the staircase leading to the Astronomy tower. Suddenly desiring nothing more than an open space, Sirius took the stone steps two at a time and walked out onto the ancient flagstone and into the fragrant night air. Sirius stepped up to the half wall and leaned against it, looking out over the black lake not too far in the distance. This time tomorrow, it will be over. Sirius sighed. But what will have been accomplished? I know what I want from this – from them, but I've no idea why they're coming here. As always, Sirius hated surprises and the Blacks' visit to Hogwarts brought with it so many unknowns. Now that he'd resolved everything with his friends, Sirius found that he cared quite a bit less about being turned out of the Black family. He belonged to a group of people who cared about him, people who wanted the best for him, people he loved. Sirius dropped his chin to rest on his arms and closed his eyes. This time, the vision of Regulus did not disappear in favor of either parent and the young wizard focused on the last conversation he'd had with his brother just after their return to school. It was a memory that returned to him often and Sirius found himself again recalling every nuance of Regulus' tone, particularly in those moments when he had seemed more … himself – less the heir. And his reaction to Uncle Alphard – hesitant but not hostile; polite, curious, perhaps. How far would you allow yourself to take that, Reg? Would you challenge them to explore aspects of yourself you didn't really know? Would you allow yourself to break away from the cloying trio of Bellatrix, Narcissa and Lucius every once in a while? Would you be open to moving away from the Dark and toward a different path? Sirius sighed as the questions raced through his mind. As much as he wanted to believe that these things were possible, his own experiences – hell, his entire life with his parents – led him to think otherwise.
"A bit of preparation for tomorrow?" Sirius whirled round at the quiet voice behind him. Dumbledore smiled benignly and approached where the younger wizard stood. Coming to stand beside him, the headmaster continued, "I often find myself engaged in the same practice, I must say but I have to wonder if, in this case, we are as prepared as we are going to be."
Sirius shook his head. "If I've learned anything in the past 16 years, it's that one can never be too prepared when facing Walburga Black." He gave Dumbledore a very small smile. "She's always been so much better prepared than any of us, it seems."
Dumbledore turned his gaze from the grounds and looked over at Sirius. "Well, my boy, I believe that your mother has found herself on the short end of that wand in recent months, no? She was surely not prepared to have you so thoroughly cut ties with your family, was she?"
Sirius was silent for a time, considering how best to convey his thoughts to the older wizard. "With all due respect, Sir, I'm not sure that's exactly right. I don't think she actually thinks about me in the same breath as family; heir, yes; but I don't believe she really ever thought about me in terms of real family. Family means something else to her – the perpetuation of the line, the guarantee that the Pureblood dynasty will continue, as will the old ways and traditions. That night this summer, when she…well, when I left Grimmauld, she burned me off the family tapestry. Told me I wasn't a Black," he snorted derisively. "Never once did she tell me I was out of the family." Sirius leveraged himself away from the wall and turned to face the headmaster. "She used an Unforgiveable curse on me that night and there have been no consequences of any import. So she spent a few days in a hospital in Paris. She more than left her mark on several doctors and departed reasonably unscathed. She's back in London and no one's the wiser; no one that matters in her eyes, anyway. I would guess she's feeling pretty invincible at the moment."
Dumbledore watched the young man carefully as he spoke. "I have had many experiences in my long life, Sirius. In many of them, my initial perspective proved to be true but in others, the reality of the situation was very different, indeed. Unless I miss my guess, your mother is in a somewhat similar position at the present time. Think of it: the methods she has employed these past 5 years, the actions she has taken to manage your behavior have failed. Whilst those who know of her actions both at Christmas and upon your return in June may not be those she holds in high esteem, they are in a position to take action against her should reports of those actions become escalated. On some level, she knows this –if she chooses not to acknowledge it, even to herself. I would suspect that this is a symptom of the illness from which she suffers, although I am far from an expert in that area. Sirius, while your mother may outwardly believe she is in control of this situation, I believe that the events of these past few months have inspired in her a certain sense of desperation. She can no longer rely on your father as an unequivocal ally against you – at least not in the way he was in the past. Orion further brought her to the facility in Paris and compelled her to stay for evaluation; add this to the actions he took on your behalf and Walburga must be feeling a bit less sure-footed."
"It must be on a really deep level," Sirius responded, dryly. "Professor, one thing about Walburga Black that will never change is that she hates to lose. Hates it. If, in fact, she is feeling at odds – with the situation, with my father or with me, it makes her even more dangerous than she usually is. Unpredictable and dangerous."
"I will repeat what I have said in the past: she cannot hurt you whilst she and your father are here tomorrow," Dumbledore said. "You have no plans to return to Grimmauld Place. You will turn 17 in November if I am not mistaken." At Sirius' nod, he continued, "As you are required to be at school this term, you cannot return to London before your birthday and as the holidays fall after your birthday, you will be of age and, therefore, cannot be compelled to return at that time."
Sirius considered what the headmaster had said and then smiled. "So, tomorrow may be the last time I need to see them…"
Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling. "A happy thought to carry with you, yes?"
The younger wizard's smile broadened. "Yes," he agreed. "But …"
"…but there's still tomorrow and the unpredictability of our outcome," the headmaster finished. "That's true, of course. But worry is an unproductive endeavor. A good night's sleep is a much better option. Shall we?" Dumbledore turned away from the stone wall.
Sirius nodded and the two wizards walked toward the door. As they reached the bottom of the ancient flagstone staircase inside the castle, Sirius looked up at Dumbledore. "Does Regulus know that they're coming?"
"I have not disclosed that fact to him; it is not for me to do, after all," the older wizard replied. "Why?"
Sirius shrugged. "Curiosity, mostly. I wondered if she might request that he participate."
"Your parents have not mentioned Regulus to me. As you and I have discussed, it is likely that he factors into the reason they've requested the meeting. I would be very hesitant to have the boy present, however," Dumbledore's tone was mild but Sirius recognized the determination beneath it. "Sirius, I would recommend that you make every effort not to create hypothetical scenarios. It will compromise your focus and distort your response to whatever reality presents itself. Given what you – what we - hope to achieve, that would not be productive. Ah…here we are."
Sirius looked up, surprised to see that they stood before the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Thank you, Professor," he said. "I'll try to follow your advice."
Dumbledore smiled. "And I shall send word when it's time for you to join us. Until then, good night."
"Good night, Professor," Sirius said, watching until Dumbledore had rounded the corner and disappeared from view. "I'm not quite sure how to follow that advice, but I'll give it my best."
