"I think it is very advisable for what I say, as always, to stay between us, and for Harry's sake, not reach him." Dumbledore said as he sat down, reminiscent of his words when he had last visited Magdalena's house.
Sirius could not help but feel like a teenager in front of his old Headmaster, despite Dumbledore not outright admonishing him for going outside and putting himself in danger, and simply listening to his story in silence, as Magdalena prepared tea. She sat down with them by the time he finished, and Sirius could not help but feel at ease as he saw her standing straight, her hair braided in a bun at the nape of her neck, in her usual array of a navy, embroidered robe atop a warm-coloured silken one.
"I have always known Voldemort is Tom Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Well, perhaps not always, but for a very, very long time, sometime before the war. He was a Hogwars student about fifty years ago." he explained calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.. "What Harry said is correct. Tom Riddle, Voldemort, was a half-blood, born from a wizard mother and a Muggle father-"
"Why have you never said anything?" Sirius interrupted. He was impatient, and did not care much for Voldemort's parentage. Under the table, his leg kept tapping onto the wooden floorboard, eager for answers. "At least us in the Order, back then, when you knew all along…"
Dumbledore looked at him with a soft smile from under his beard, and took one of the cups of tea, sipping from it. As opposed to Sirius, he looked to be in no rush at all, almost as if instead of being summoned to provide information regarding Voldemort, he was simply invited for breakfast.
"His name, his surname especially-" Dumbledore continued, slowly and steadily talking as if he had never been interrupted, all to Sirius's chagrin. "Does not ring any bells, because there had never been another wizarding Riddle, before or after Voldemort, not in Hogwarts history, at least, not for a few hundred years.
He was an orphan by the time he reached Hogwarts, and had no living relatives that I know of even back then. His name, back then, was not as relevant as you may want to think - all who knew him from his time in Hogwarts knew who his followers were, which wizarding families were close to him back in the day. If anything, his birth name would have attracted more of his wrath."
"But it was relevant. If Harry knew, if people knew the diary belonged to him, from the beginning…"
"People are too afraid to say Voldemort enough already, Sirius. And that is the name he chose for himself, not the name he wanted forgotten and replaced. In the war, he surely would have targeted those who knew his birth name, to remove any trace between the half-blood wizard with Muggle parentage and the Dark Lord he wanted to be known as. As for the diary… When he was a young man, in Hogwarts especially, he knew how to make himself a charismatic character. No one that attracts and is able to lead people, people like those in Death Eater ranks, can do so without charisma. Even if Harry and young Ginevra Weasley knew his name, there is no assurance Riddle's cursed diary would have had no effect on either of them."
"And what now? About Albania and-" Magdalena started talking, and the thought of Albania reminded him of recent news covered almost daily in the Daily Prophet. But this time, not related to Voldemort.
"Bertha Jorkins." he breathed out quickly, overtaking whatever she wanted to say. "Dumbledore, don't you find it strange that someone like Bertha would just disappear? And she's a Ministry worker, and in a foreign country at that. And a tiny country, isn't it?" he turned out towards Magdalena, unsure why she would know the size of the country. He wasn't sure where she was from, or if she ever mentioned - maybe she even was Albanian herself.
"I've been there-... you've been there as well, Albus. You can't lose a wizard in Albania, not unless they don't want to be found, not if the Ministry is looking for someone in that small of a place." she agreed.
Dumbledore looked at each of them from above his half-moon shaped glasses, sipping his tea as he nodded to himself.
"The Ministry is not spending as many resources as we would all like to think in looking for Bertha, I am afraid. That is why the Daily Prophet is very much on their case, so to speak. They know very well that one of the Ministry's own has all but disappeared, and the Ministry is trying to minimise the situation, as most of their resources are going onto the Quidditch Cup final, and they hope that the Prophet will soon focus on another piece of news.
You will soon enough learn about it as well, more publicly, let's say. However, before it is all published, I will also come for some… help, in some regards, Lena." he turned towards the witch with a nod, before continuing. "There will soon be a Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. The final details have just been set, and signed off. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang."
With that, Dumbledore gave them time to digest the information, taking a bite from one of the biscuits Magadalena set. It was her who spoke first, leaning in and whispering with wonder and awe in her voice.
"You're doing it- you're… can you… can you believe it?"
Sirius's eyes grew wide. No, he could hardly believe it. "What?"
He remembered cleaning many a trophy in his time, in various detentions - it was one of Filch's favourite punishments, to just have him sit in silence and polish everything by hand, again and again, throughout the entire night.
There was a time when he knew all the Hogwarts winners by heart. Sometimes, he would hold the trophies himself, and imagined himself winning - Sirius Black, the unlikely Griffyndor, bringing glory to himself and the House that took him in, that gave him the best years of his life and some of the best people he ever knew.
"Two hundred years there hasn't been a single one. Too many kids died. Harry-"
"Harry will be too young to be anything but a spectator. Only wizards of age can take part in the Tournament." Dumbledore replied immediately. "Now, if there is nothing more I can be of help with… Lena dear, a last word?"
Sirius murmured his goodbyes quickly to the headmaster, taking advantage of the witch leaving to rush into a corner of the living room. He tore a piece of parchment paper, and quickly scribbled a quick introduction, a time and date, a location, and his salutations. Right before he folded it, he realised he forgot to even sign it, in his rush, and scribbled down
From your one remaining friend,
Sirius
before attaching it to an owl and sending it off the window. Right as he closed the window, the witch came back, lounging onto the couch, not paying him the slightest attention. She sighed wearily, and wrapped herself better in the shawl she had around her shoulders.
"So, what'd old Dumbledore want to talk about then, that was so secretive?" he asked, taking a seat next to her.
"Durmstrang." was all she said for a while, before sighing once again. "When the Durmstrang delegation and their Headmaster will come to Britain, he will want someone to keep an eye on him - whether it's me, or some other wizards I know… Awful man - he came from Britain, you know? Deceived his way into the Headmaster position around… well, must've been a decade ago or so. Bulgarian wizard originally, by birth, but he emigrated when he was young over here. Igor Karkaroff."
"Karkaroff?" She nodded, and Sirius couldn't help but rack his brains - Karkaroff the Death Eater. Karkaroff who cheated his way out of Azkaban. That Karkaroff, now the Headmaster of Durmstrang, and would be coming to Britain in a matter of a couple of months, if not even sooner. "Do you really not know anything else about him?"
It was his time to shine, for lack of a better word.
Dumbledore was preparing for something then, if he needed foreign wizards to infiltrate and spy on Karkaroff.
"Karkaroff was a Death Eater - got caught, tried, imprisoned for life, the works. But he made a deal with the Ministry- sold as many Death Eaters for his freedom as he could, acted like he was a changed man, yadda yadda. They believed him, or at least, accepted his deal of selling off as many of his accomplices as he could and got released. Of course, he couldn't stay for long in Britain, not when he'd be hunted down as the snitch that he was, and off he went." he said, with a clap of his hands.
"And off he went indeed." she scoffed. "Not sure what it is about Eastern Europe and-... well, Igor Karkaroff at Durmstrang, what's left of Voldemort allegedly in Albania, of all countries... My home, my place, it's not all like that, you know. A place of solace for those mad about blood purity and whatnot…That's why I wanted to bring Harry to the celebrations. And now with this tournament, knowing Durmstrang will come-"
"When is that again?"
"Next week, I believe."
Sirius nodded, only half aware of what he was saying. He had just invited Remus on a trip to Albania, to investigate the disappearance of Bertha for himself, and that was currently the most pressing thing on his mind. Something was not right. Having known her, having known her family… Having seen Harry safe now, not in an ideal situation, but safe and relatively well, gave him the push to take matters into his own hands.
If the Ministry was of such an incompetence that there were several wizards at large, well, then it seemed to Sirius that it was only fitting for one of those at large wizards to start looking for another.
He had written a letter for Magdalena to open in the morning, after he would have been long gone. Explained his reasons for going to Albania, and explained why he did not wish to tell her himself, and preferred to have her read a letter when he would already be on his way. Some things, he had to do himself. He wanted to do it himself. He despised needing someone on the outside, feeling useless as he would watch her leave the house, always with a purpose, always to do something. However, that was not what he wrote in the letter, no. No, he simply wrote that he had to, and to keep an eye on Harry.
With the letter finished, he poured a good amount of the potion into a flask he found, figuring he would pluck some hairs off an unsuspecting person he'd find - after all, he did not need to be someone specific, just someone else. Anyone that would not raise eyes to an Albanian wizard or Muggle would do. He remembered Magdalena saying that everyone in the neighbourhood would be at one of those enormous gatherings held during these days, and he had no worries about being discovered - and indeed, all houses around were shrouded in darkness, not a single candle or lamp lit.
No, the first person he had seen after leaving her house was none other than the one intended.
"I can't believe you've been here, right under my nose, you utter fool." Remus saluted him with a wry smile, embracing him tightly.
"Hello to you too, old chap." he rasped with a grin, facing his good friend once again. He embraced him tightly in return. "Trying to suffocate me is going to take more than this, you know better. I've heard about your resignation from Dumbledore."
"Have you then? I was not sure why Dumbledore even thought of me in the first place, knowing that so many other staff knew about me… Told him as much, and then, right on cue, as soon as our dearest friend Snape let it pass that I am a werewolf in front of the students."
"That motherfucker-" Sirius bit his thought, right onto the meat of the insult that was about to come out of his mouth. While he knew why Dumbledore did not elaborate, with the witch present, he could have at least hinted that Snape had something to do with it.
Although, considering his character, it would have been more surprising if he wouldn't have.
"It's fine, Sirius. It's fine. That night, I could have harmed those kids. If I killed Peter, fine with me, no skin off my nose… I could have hurt Harry - would you have ever forgiven me if I did that, Sirius? Look me in the eye." He raised his eyes, and Sirius avoided them on purpose. "Look at me - you wouldn't."
"But you didn't, Remus. You've never harmed a soul since I've known you, willingly or not." he continued speaking even as Remus scoffed, before finally relenting. "Alright, then. Fine." He knew very well who had always been the stubbornest of them all, and he doubted he had it within himself to make Remus budge in his convictions. So he decided to drop the subject altogether, and move onto the actual matter at hand.
"Why?" Remus asked, when he explained his plan.
"Something feels odd about all of this, Remus. Something's fishy."
"Are you sure it's not because… you know."
"What?" Sirius frowned, not knowing at all, in fact, what he could possibly refer to.
Remus sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about the kindest way to put it into words, knowing he would be rubbing salt in the wound no matter how gentle he would try to arrange his wording.
"You can't find Pettigrew, who's now lost, as a rat among a thousand others, so you're doing this as a-... as a pet project. What good would finding Bertha even do, what good would proving the Ministry wrong do?"
Sirius knew, even though Remus stopped himself well in advance, what he wanted to continue with. He would still be a fugitive in the eyes of the Ministry.
"I don't know."
Was Bertha the figure in the cave? The figure sprawled on its stomach, the one he visualised and dreamt about last night? Was that why he felt the need to investigate this now, above all else?
"But I know that I need to. Will you come with me, then? Even if you don't, I'll bring you in spirit, old chap, have no worry- I have some Polyjuice potion that is just ripe, only needs its last ingredient."