Chapter 53: Silver Sword of Justice
The morning after the full moon of March 8th, Remus entered my office with a serious expression on his face.
"What's wrong? You look like somebody died," I asked, looking up from my paperwork. "Also, don't you have the day off?"
"Did you give us new potions?" he asked, and I frowned.
"You mean the Wolfsbane potions? No, they're the same recipe I've been using since I hired you."
"Well, something was different this time," he told me. "The wolf… was unusually quiet. And when I woke up… there was less pain that usual."
"Odd," I murmured, trying to think about what I may have done differently.
Lycanthropy was a strange and old curse, and the potion used for it was relatively new, especially for the Wizarding World. Less than two decades old!
The Wolfsbane potion acted like a sedative. It had to be drunk before the transformation, usually around dusk for best effects. Then, the werewolf would become docile. The human side would be asleep and unaware of anything during the transformed state, but at least with the Wolfsbane potion the werewolf would be too addled to do anything. It was like giving catnip or silvervine to a cat. They just stayed in one place and sort of zoned out until the transformation ended.
"I think I know what may have happened," I said slowly. "I used a different source of silver powder than usual."
"How do you mean?" Remus asked seriously.
"You know how we've been expanding into the garbage disposal business? Taking junk and using alchemy to turn it into stuff we can resell or use ourselves?"
"Yes, I'm aware," Remus nodded. I chuckled. Of course he did, he'd had to expand the security forces to cover that new business as well, meaning he'd been working extra hard these last few weeks.
"Well, silver isn't exactly cheap, not even in the magical world, so I took some of the silver that was reclaimed from the alchemical recycling methods in this month's Wolfsbane potion," I explained.
"I see," the werewolf muttered. "I think that might be why I felt so different. The alchemically transmuted silver gave the potion a stronger effect."
"Interesting if true," I mused, though it sounded right. The alchemical recycling method I used would have separated the base metals from all impurities, making it as close to 100% pure silver as possible. Something that was difficult to obtain even when using magic to mine the stuff.
"Also, tell us next time you change the ingredients or the way you obtain them," Remus requested, giving me an exasperated look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think there'd be any major difference!" I apologized.
"I know. Still, if the transmutation process had been even a little off…" Remus trailed off and shook his head. "Well, I think you know what would have happened."
I nodded with a wince. There would have been four werewolves whom their family would have assumed were properly sedated, but actually weren't. They could have attacked somebody!
"There's a reason why alchemy isn't so widely practiced despite how useful it can be," Remus added in a warning tone. "It's a precise and demanding art, even more so than potions, and a single misstep can result in failure. Often times fatally."
I bowed my head, properly chastised. "Again, I'm sorry, Remus."
My head of security grunted but nodded, accepting my apology.
"Anyways, since I'm already here, might as well get some of my own work done," Remus sighed, and I gave a commiserating chuckle.
"Paperwork, eh?"
He just nodded and left, heading to his own office. I watched him go before silently making a note to give him and the other werewolves (and person who had a werewolf child) a small bonus this month as an apology. Remus had been right, I should have told them I was changing where I was getting some of the ingredients for the potion.
'Hmm, while I'm thinking about it, I better go check on the garbage disposal project,' I thought to myself. It was going to be a real moneymaker for me once it really got going. Alchemy as well as transmutation were the keys to a lot of high-tier magic, including the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, something which I still wasn't willing to attempt with my meagre skills.
Decision made, I finished up the work in front of me, made some appointments and called some people, and then headed out, Inky teleporting me to where I wanted to go.
The garbage disposal and recycling facility I'd built was far away from the potion factory. It was technically still in London, but at the very edge. This was for a couple of reasons, secrecy one of them. But also, nobody wanted trash near them.
The facility was pretty big. It had a partially enclosed area for garbage trucks to enter, while the trash itself was piled up in a large, sprawling heap in a fenced in area that was exposed to the elements. All in all, a very common looking junk yard. I'd gone for the name Citrine Services for my new business. Named after the Citrinitas stage of Alchemy as an homage, I had a lot of hope for this one.
As I got closer to the facility's parking lot, there was a familiar face standing out front the main building waiting for me.
"Morning, Mark," I said, greeting the 'reformed' criminal in charge of my new business. He preferred to be called 'Mark' instead of 'Marky,' so I used that instead.
"Yo, boss," the bald man said, giving me a polite nod. He had been working hard ever since I'd forcefully hired him, and had been very quick to embrace my ideas of using magic to turn a profit.
Marky Fetters' quick change of heart had been surprising at first, but thinking it over, made sense. He was a Squib, and I was giving him the chance to not only make money using magic, but also thumbing his nose at the Wizarding World. What more could a Squib ask for?
Some bigoted opinions towards Muggles had also rubbed off on him during his upbringing among his Pureblood family, sadly. While these thoughts had lessened over the years of having to live alongside non-magicals, Mark still held some of them, and did not like having to work for Muggles. Working for a Squib like myself was much more palatable for the former criminal information broker and middleman. I would be doing my best to reduce the vitriol he felt towards Muggles all the same.
"How are things going?" I asked as I stepped inside. Unlike what the sight of mountains of trash might lead someone to believe, the buildings inside the junkyard didn't stink. Runes and wards kept the stench out, and complimentary cleaning charms ensured the vehicles and uniforms stayed stink and stain-free as well.
"Things are ramping up," Mark said with a nod. "We've just gotten the contract to handle garbage pickups in Harrow, and Sutton is very interested in our rates. We also bought out two more disposal companies. Full benefits and retainment of the employees included, as you wanted."
"That so? Excellent work!" I praised. "That makes three of London's boroughs our trucks are getting trash from!"
"I think we should slow down a bit, though," Mark suggested, tempering my excitement. "We're already working at full capacity and adding Harrow to the schedule is gonna stretch things real thin until we can get more workers and expand the 'recycling' facilities."
"Good point," I admitted after a moment. "What do you need for that to happen?"
"More Squibs and magicals, boss," Mark replied instantly. "Using lasers to carve the runes and alchemy transmutation formula was ingenious as it cuts down on time and reduces accidents due to mistakes in the arrays from unsteady hands, but we still need people with some magic to actually use them."
"Squibs and discontent Muggleborn are not as numerous as I'd like, though," I said with a sigh.
Despite how much more common they were in recent decades, Squibs were still a minority, with fewer Squibs born per year than Muggleborn. And with no more than two dozen Muggleborn attending Hogwarts every year for the last century, that really said a lot about how rare magical talent actually was amongst the human population.
"I'll put out feelers," Mark promised. "I still know some people on the other side."
"I'll put you in contact with Archibald Tarsworth," I said after thinking it over. "He also has connections in the magical world and knows the right people to talk to in the Ministry regarding Squibs."
"Any little bit helps," Mark agreed with a nod. "Now, take a look, we've streamlined the process pretty nicely I think."
He led me to a balcony that overlooked a large pit inside the junkyard. It had a roof, but that was about it, and dump trucks just drove up to the edge and dropped trash in until it was full.
"Everything being dumped in here is trash. Everything that can't be recycled easily. We're talking food waste, medical waste, and the like."
"What about electronics?" I inquired.
"If a Reparotalisman can't fix it, it's also disposed of," he replied, and I nodded in understanding.
I nodded. The Reparospell and the Ofuda talismans that mimicked it worked by pulling all the broken parts of an object back into said object then magically reattaching them. It wasn't perfect, and if pieces were missing and too far for the spell to latch onto – which was generally further than a yard or two – then it would still restore as much as possible.
A vase with a missing shard would still have said shard missing when repaired, for instance. And the more complex the item, like a computer, the harder it was for it to keep working even if every part of it was reattached perfectly.
"Now, we usually do this when the pit is full, but I'll give you a demonstration right now," Mark said, walking over and flipping a switch. A dull alarm began to blare and lights flashed, followed by the shutters to the dump truck drop-off site closing, preventing any further entry.
"That alarm tells people to stay away," the Squib explained to me, before leading me over to another part of the balcony. There was a door, and he unlocked it, ushering me inside. The room had large windows that let a person inside look down onto the trash pit and the surroundings without any issue.
Mark joined me, then headed to the wall next to the windows. He then pressed his thumb onto a rune which glowed, and then an illusion charm faded, revealing a box on the wall next to the rune that sort of looked like a fuse box. Mark then opened the box with a key and his thumbprint again, revealing a large golden plate covered in complex runes and alchemical sigils. There was also a bottle of my Wiggenweld healing cream and a tiny silver knife in a comportment next to the golden plate.
"Care to do the honors?" he inquired, gesturing to the knife. I nodded and took it, slicing my own thumb open and then smearing my blood onto the center of the plate.
The sigils and runes began to glow an eerie, ruby red, and then that same glow began to emanate from the trash pit. Starting from the bottom, the light enveloped everything, and then it flashed.
I blinked away the spots in my eyes while smearing the Wiggenweld cream onto the cut. Then, I stared into the pit. It had previously been half-full of broken furniture and bags of trash, but now? It was empty! I could now see that the pit was lined with stainless steel that was covered in complex runic sequences and alchemical symbols.
Grinning, Mark motioned for me to follow him, and he lead me out of the balcony room, and down towards the pit. But he then took me off to the side into the warehouse attached to the garage that was full of row upon row of plastic and steel storage drums, shipping containers, and storage bins.
"It wasn't easy setting up the spells to sort everything, nor was it easy to target specifical materials. But check it out!" Mark happily waved a hand towards the containers. He opened one up, allowing me to see it was full of shiny golden pellets!
"Brilliant!" I breathed out.
"The alchemical formula you gave us breaks down anything within the pit into its basic components. Then, the wards and runes separate them by elemental composition and apparates them into their respective containers inside of the warehouse," Mark said giddily. "In the two weeks we've been operating, we've managed to 'recycle' close to forty metric tons worth of trash and turn it all into easily reusable materials!"
Mark showed me around some more. "Metals are their own thing, as well as carbon. Water, nitrogen, and the other gases are stored separately in vacuum sealed containers. Plastic, paper, and oil are also kept in their own areas. Fireproofing wards keep them safe from any accidents that might cause them to catch fire. And we use Vanishing charms on the radioactive materials that sometimes crop up."
I nodded. Vanishing charms didn't actually destroy things, nor did they teleport the target away, they simply broke them down and scattered them on a sub-atomic level. It was completely safe and non-lethal. Toxic and radioactive substances were effectively rendered inert this way as they were rendered down into particles too small and too spread out to clump together and cause issues with living things. We still made sure to check the health of everyone involved afterwards, of course. But so far it seemed to be working!
"It's working just as I envisioned it," I murmured, awestruck by it all. I'd known it worked for a while. After all, we'd been doing this for a few weeks now. But to see it happen before my eyes? To know the countless hours of hard work and study to not only come up with the plan, but to also the implantation, as well creating the runic sequences and alchemical formula necessary to make it all happen had successfully paid off?
There was no other word to describe it except 'euphoric.'
"Yeah. Thank God and Merlin this place is so close to a Leyline, otherwise we'd never have been able to get enough energy to use the alchemical formulas," Mark said, and I nodded. It was why I'd chosen this location in the first place.
Without a dozen wizards or a Philosopher's Stone or two to provide the insane energy requirements, the only other way to obtain so much magic to power the exceedingly complex runes sequences and alchemy formulas I'd come up with was to use a Leyline, and those were somewhat rare. Most magical sites were built on them. The Leaky Cauldron, the Ministry, and all the other parts of Magical London only existed thanks to the small convergence of three Leylines nearby. Hogwarts was built atop four. Stonehenge, the most important mystical site in all of England? Seven Leylines. Only a few other places in the world had that many Leylines connected together.
And one of Stonehenge's seven Leylines ran right through the junkyard, which was why I was able to draw so much magical energy from it in order to power my wards, runes, and alchemy.
"Well done," I praised with a wide grin. "Do you have any suggestions for improvements?"
"A few," Mark admitted. He gave me some ideas about ways to streamline the process as well as selling off the reclaimed materials. Gold, silver, and other metals, both precious and otherwise, could be sold or used for our own needs. Magic worked a lot like electricity in that gold and silver and other conductive metals could channel it far more efficiently when incorporated into runes and enchantments.
The rest of the stuff, like paper, plastic and oil? Best to be repurposed. The oil could fuel our trucks and cut down on the price of gas. Plastic could be melted down and used for a variety of uses. And the paper could be made into new Ofuda talismans. There was going to be very little waste.
"And like I already said, we need more magical folk," Mark added. "Squibs like you and me can only go so far."
"True, but like I said, recruitment isn't easy," I reminded him.
"Well, we don't actually have to go looking for humans if we need magic users," the older Squib reminded me.
I blinked, then slowly nodded my head. 'Of course! Why focus on human spellcasters when there are plenty of other people the magical world has sidelined who need jobs!'
I'd become somewhat tunnel visioned while setting up my business, and nearly forgotten there were all sorts of different species living alongside humanity in the Wizarding World! Vampires, Hags, Goblins, Centaurs, Mermaids, Veela, Dwarves, and so many more!
And all of them had been pushed to the fringes by human encroachment. Magical Britain was bad when it came to treating 'Dark' creatures, which was what all non-human sapient beings were considered, but some countries had it even worse! The only ones that were truly tolerant and welcoming were France and the United States. The rest were, at best, disdainful.
Most importantly, all of them could use magic. While they might be banned from using wands in Magical Britain, that didn't stop them from being able to use other forms of magical foci like runes and Ofuda.
Hags were well-known for their potion brewing skills, so they'd fit right in with my main business. Vampires would make excellent night security watchmen, and Dwarves rivaled Goblins for their craftsmanship. Those three were the species most likely to work with us, and some of the most numerous in Great Britain.
"Mark, you're bloody brilliant," I praised, and he puffed up his chest proudly.
"Don't mention it, boss," he replied with a grin. "If you want me to, I'll reach out to a couple people on the other side I know might be interested."
"See if you can get into contact with some Dwarves, first," I instructed. "They'd be easiest to incorporate into our business right now. We'll need their runecrafting and enchanting abilities. Plus, they could be the easiest to pass off as, uh, 'little people' if we need them to work around any Muggles. Which they likely will have to at some point."
"Ah, hadn't thought of that," Mark nodded. "Got it, I know a guy who knows somebody who works for one of the Dwarven Thanes over in Wales."
"Great," I said with a grin as I thought about what I could do with a whole bunch of non-human magicals at my side. "I'll be heading back to the office for now. Yourself?"
"Gonna head over to the club. Working two jobs isn't easy," Mark chuckled.
"Tell me about," I agreed. I called for Inky a moment later and I was whisked back to my office in the factory. Where, to my surprise, I found Remus pacing back and forth waiting for me.
"What now?" I asked him, and he jerked in surprise before handing me a letter. It was from the wizarding world. The parchment and quill writing gave it away, really.
"Took her long enough," I grunted, reading it over. It was from Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt. We'd asked Harry to help out with this, and since he knew it was about Sirius Black, he'd done so with gusto.
Still, even with a line of communication open, Madam Bones was still a busy woman and a hardline member of the Grey, or Neutral faction. She didn't trust Dumbledore, which was why she wasn't a member of the Light party. She seemed to think he had too many fingers in too many different pies, and he should just focus on one job and let other people do the rest. Which to be fair I also believed.
From what Remus, Sirius, and my own contacts in the magical side had told me, Madam Bones also had some Pureblood biases. She was a Pureblood, her niece was a Pureblood, and she'd gotten her job through a combination of competence and Pureblood favoritism, and was known to also promote and favor Purebloods over the rest.
Madam Bones also didn't seem to have any real opinion on non-humans. She didn't view them as 'Dark creatures' like so many others in the Ministry did, but she was a fervent believer in the Letter, not the Spirit, of the Law, and so would follow any orders and rules no matter how little she approved of them. Annoying, but in a way that helped us with Sirius Black's case considerably.
'If we can prove that Sirius never had a trial then her own sense of justice will demand her to take action,' I thought to myself. 'Add in some Pureblood bias, she'll want to have Sirius have his day in court because it sets a dangerous precedent to allow something like this to happen. Anybody could be tossed into Azkaban if they displease the Ministry.'
After reading her letter I handed it back to Remus. "We need to get ready. She's willing to meet with you in private tomorrow at the Rosewater, and reading between the lines it's only because she believes you might have some insight as to Sirius' location or mindset."
"I'll get right on that," Remus said with a nod. "I'll bring all the evidence with me as well."
"Just remember to keep mention of Sirius' innocence and Pettigrew's guilt out of it for the moment," I warned.
"I know," he assured me. "I won't mess this up."
I smiled at him, then waggled my eyebrows suggestively. "Alrighty, then. Shall we prepare for your date tomorrow?"
"You're spending too much time with Sirius," the werewolf grumbled, looking away in embarrassment. I just cackled. Too easy!
111 &&& 111
Remus Lupin POV
Remus resisted the urge to tug at his collar or straighten his tie. He wanted to project an image of confidence, and that would be ruined if he fidgeted about nervously.
Never mind the fact that the Rosewaterwasn't the sort of place he would normally go, meeting one of the most powerful women in Magical Britain was nerve-wracking. To calm himself, he looked around at the place he was waiting. Not because he was looking for an escape route if he had to leave quickly! Anyone who claimed that to be the case was a liar!
The Rosewaterwas an upscale café within Horizont Alley that generally catered to individuals in the upper end of society or who worked at the Ministry. It was also a popular date spot for many people.
Finally, after waiting for ten minutes in a corner of the shop, Madam Bones appeared, sweeping into the place like she owned it. And maybe she did. House Bones had invested in many small businesses in the magical side of things over the generations, after all.
Remus took a moment to observe her. Madam Bones was a thirty-something woman with a stern face. She had blonde hair done up in a tight librarian bun and curious bone-grey eyes, a unique trait of her family. She wore a monocle over her right eye that was enchanted, though with what spells he had no idea. Dressed in her official Ministry robes, she projected a stern and powerful persona that had the werewolf straightening up as she approached. She was also wearing perfume which had his nose tingle, his sense of smell still sensitive only a day and a half after the full moon.
"Mr. Lupin," she said curtly in greeting.
"Madam Bones," he replied. "Thank you for meeting with me."
"I admit, I wasn't going to," she stated bluntly, sitting down across from him. "But my niece repeatedly insisted. So. Here I am."
"What can I get you two?" a waitress asked.
"Rose hip tea," Bones requested, naming one of the store's specialty drinks. "Mix in two dollops of whipped cream and a drop of honey."
"Earl Grey with milk," Remus said, placing his own order a moment later.
"Anything to eat?"
No, thank you," Bones said, and Remus also shook his head. The waitress left to fill their orders, leaving the two alone.
"I will tell you upfront that another reason I agreed to humor my niece about this date is because I was hoping to…"
"D-date?" Remus spluttered, interrupting her. He was incredibly glad he hadn't been drinking anything at the moment.
"Yes? Is that not why you're here?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"I think Harry and your niece have the wrong idea about why I was asking to meet with you," Remus sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"I see," Bones said slowly, and Remus wasn't able read her emotions or expression. Still, her words sent a shiver down his spine and he didn't know why.
"The truth is, I was hoping to talk to you about… Black," Remus said, making sure to add a lot of bitterness to his friend's name.
"Ah. That was what I was hoping to talk to you about as well," Madam Bones admitted. "Your connection to him might help me understand where he has fled."
"You don't know where he is?" Remus inquired, trying not to sound hopefully. That would give away the wrong message.
"That is Ministry business," she said crisply.
"That means 'no,'" Remus drawled, and when she bristled, he held up his hands in surrender. "My father used to work for the Ministry, Madam Bones. I know the nuances behind political double-speak."
She let out a quiet 'humph,' but said nothing as a silver tray with the order came floating down onto the table. For a few minutes neither spoke, but of them sipping at their tea.
"Regarding your… request, I have one of my own," Remus admitted.
"Tit for tat?" she inquired.
"Yes," the werewolf nodded. "You see, I tried asking around for some information on Black when I read he'd escape in February, but I didn't find what I was looking for. I wanted to see if you might know."
"Very well, I can oblige your request if you answer mine," Madam Bones replied. "What do you seek?"
"Did Black ever have a trial?" Remus said. She blinked.
"Beg pardon?" she demanded.
"A trial. I found no news articles from the time in back issues of the Prophet, nor did the clerks and functionaries at the Ministry mention anything like that. So I was hoping you could help me with that."
"Why do you want to know?" Madam Bones asked.
"I want to know 'why,'" Remus replied, clenching his fists. "Surely the transcript of the trial would have that information. Surely somebody asked him why he betrayed James and Lily and murdered Peter!"
Remus knew he was playing on her emotions. She'd lost a brother and his wife to the Death Eaters. And every victim of a crime wants to know 'why them?' He just hoped his acting was good enough.
There was another moment of silence, but the tension had somehow only gotten worse, and Madam Bones stared into her tea cup. Was she trying to perform tea leaf Divination?
"I do not know," she said. Then, she repeated it. "I do not know."
And the way the head of House Bone spoke, she sounded confused, and maybe a bit horrified to not have the answer.
"I see," Remus said with a sigh. "In that case, I will answer any questions you have about Black, as we agreed."
Madam Bones shook her head to clear it. "Good," she muttered. "Where would he likely go? Would he go to ground in the old Black manor?"
"It's unlikely he'd head to his family home," Remus informed her. "He hated that place. It would also be the first place to look. And anybody with Black blood could check it out. I believe you have an auror who is the daughter of one of his cousins, yes? She might be helpful in that regard."
It wasn't even a lie, either. Sirius had refused to return to his family manor at all since escaping.
"Ah, yes, trainee Tonks," Madam Bones muttered. "She has done well in her training. Top marks, I believe. And under Moody's tutelage, no less. Yes, I think I could trust her with a mission to sweep the Black House. No need for a warrant either if it's family checking in on family."
Remus winced in sympathy for Sirius' niece. Mad Eye Moody was a bloody good Auror, but his training left something to be desired. He remembered James and Sirius complaining about it when they'd been going through Auror bootcamp.
"Sirius might head to the continent," Remus continued, spinning a yarn. "I know the Blacks had acquaintances in Romania and the Balkans."
"Hmm, tricky, but I'll let word out to the foreign Ministries about that," she hummed.
"And, I am hesitant to say this, but since it will help catch him, I will let you know in confidence," Remus said, acting hesitant and leaning in. Both Sirius and Edward had thought of this next plan, and Remus agreed with it.
"I am listening," Madam Bones said.
"Black was an unregistered Animagus. So were Peter and James," Remus revealed, causing her to stiffen in shock.
"Beg pardon?" she uttered.
"You know about my… problem, yes?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Well, the three of them found out about it when I was at Hogwarts. And so they studied how to become Animagi, learning how to transform in our Fifth year. They would spend every full moon with me in their animal forms, because a werewolf won't attack animals. And it seems to be the case with Animagi as well."
That tidbit caused Madam Bones to gain a funny look as she thought it over. "That's how Black escaped," she realized. "The Dementors do not affect animals the same way as humans!"
Remus nodded at that, impressed. She caught on quick.
"But then he could have escaped at any time," she began to mutter. "Why now?"
"I do not know," Remus claimed. "I fear he might be after Harry. He likely heard about him from the guards, and found out he enrolled in Hogwarts last year. He may have been biding his time for the right moment to break out."
Remus then put on a thoughtful frown. "Though why he didn't bother freeing his fellow Death Eaters eludes me. Did he not think they could escape with him? Or was there another motive?"
He felt he was laying it on a bit thick, but it was part of the plan. Get her thinking, and get her suspicious.
"I see," Madam Bones hummed, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You have given me much to think about."
"Of course," Remus replied, bobbing his head. "If possible, could you let me know when you find Black's trial transcripts?"
"Of course," Madam Bones echoed. "Hmm. I suppose this has been a productive meeting."
Remus nodded and took a sip of his lukewarm tea.
"I would not be opposed to it happening again," Madam Bones added, causing Remus to cough a bit in surprise.
"Huh?" he uttered dumbly.
"Only to keep in contact and exchange information!" she claimed. "Do not think it means anything else!"
"Right, yes, I understand," Remus said, awkwardly wiping his mouth. "I wouldn't mind either, I suppose, if that's the case."
"Excellent," Madam Bones said, rising from her seat. She then dropped a sickle into her tea cup as payment, which vanished. Afterwards she strode out, leaving an utterly perplexed werewolf in her wake.
"…What just happened?" Remus wondered as he blinked in confusion. He wasn't sure why, but he had the strangest feeling somebody was laughing at him.