CHAPTER 14: SHADOWS IN THE PUREBLOOD SOCIETY
Sirius found himself on edge today, his nerves scattered like leaves in the wind. He had dropped by for lunch, eager to engage in a heart-to-heart with Harry. The air in the drawing-room was thick with tension as the two sat in deep conversation. Meanwhile, Bellatrix had sought refuge at Cissa's place, cunningly avoiding any encounter with the boisterous Marauder.
In the looming tomorrow, Sirius was slated to embark on a mission—to extract the younger Harry from the clutches of the Dursleys. The expedition was not without its share of challenges, as two Aurors were enlisted to accompany Sirius, anticipating potential problems. Dumbledore, the venerable wizard, was expected to make an appearance, undoubtedly attempting to sway Sirius from the path of taking custody of Harry.
"Relax, Padfoot," Harry chimed in, attempting to dispel the palpable anxiety emanating from Sirius.
Sirius, however, couldn't shake off the agitation. "This is driving me mad. I love my godson, but I have no idea how to take care of a child," he confessed, his worries etched across his face.
"Can't offer much guidance there, mate. I was thrust into fatherhood almost as soon as the war ended and barely had the chance to know my own godson," Harry revealed with a tinge of regret.
"Tonks' son?" Sirius inquired, curiosity knitting his brow.
Harry nodded, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, he was a metamorph, just like his mother."
Sirius, sensing a deeper untold tale, probed further. "You never told me who the father was."
"The father," Harry responded dismissively, "was a worthless piece of stool."
Sirius, undeterred, pressed on. "Who was it?"
A moment of hesitation lingered before Harry issued a warning. "Fine, but this revelation comes with a cost. It's part of that vow, Sirius."
Sirius, insistent and curious, demanded, "Fine, now tell me."
With a scowl, Harry revealed, "Remus Lupin."
"What?! He's my age," Sirius exclaimed incredulously, his eyes widening in surprise.
Harry nodded, his tone tinged with anger. "Yep, he tried to leave her after she got pregnant because he was scared his son would turn out just like him."
Sirius contemplated this revelation, his brow furrowed. "I guess that explains why you don't like him."
"I don't think I have to worry about that problem this time around. Andromeda will flay him alive if he comes near her," Harry said with a malicious grin, relishing the thought of potential consequences.
Eager to shift the focus, Sirius changed the subject. "So, what's the deal with you and Bellatrix?"
"I have no idea where it's going, to be honest," Harry admitted with a nonchalant shrug.
Sirius, unable to contain his curiosity, probed further, "How can you date her after she killed your godfather?"
Harry, flashing a smirk, replied with a hint of mischief, "She's smoking hot, and my godfather was a wanker."
"Oi, you wound me," Sirius declared dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. The banter between the two friends added a touch of levity to the heavy atmosphere, momentarily diverting their minds from the impending challenges.
"Alright, truthfully, I don't think she meant to kill you," Harry admitted, his tone carrying a hint of understanding.
"So basically, your cock is calling the shots," Sirius remarked, nodding in apparent comprehension.
"How dare you make such an accusation?" Harry demanded, though his protest lacked any real heat.
"I call 'em as I see 'em," Sirius retorted matter-of-factly.
"See, you're a complete wanker," Harry pointed out, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Whatever. Back to the younger version of you, how bad were the Dursleys?" Sirius redirected the conversation.
"Bad. I was absolutely miserable there for the ten years until I got my letter, and every summer I spent there when I started Hogwarts," Harry admitted, his expression reflecting the lingering pain of those years.
"Did they abuse you?" Sirius asked, his concern evident.
"No, not physically at least. They locked me in a cupboard and hardly fed me, but that's about as far as it went," Harry explained with a nonchalant shrug.
"A cupboard?" Sirius asked, horrified, his eyes widening in disbelief at the cruelty of such treatment. The revelation added another layer of complexity to Harry's tumultuous early years, leaving Sirius grappling with the weight of his godson's past.
"Yeah, I lived in the cupboard under the stairs until a few days before my eleventh birthday when I received my Hogwarts letter addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. They freaked out and moved me to my cousin's second bedroom," Harry explained, recounting the peculiar circumstances that marked his transition from the cramped confines of the cupboard.
"Those bastards!" Sirius exclaimed angrily, his disdain for the Dursleys evident.
"I got over it. They are pathetic human beings and not worth thinking about," Harry said dismissively, revealing a resilience that had helped him cope with his troubled past.
"Fine, I'll leave it be and just get Harry out of there," Sirius declared after a moment of contemplation, shifting his focus to the imminent mission.
"Good, now onto other matters," Harry said, eager to steer the conversation away from the dark memories.
"What other matters?" Sirius asked, a hint of confusion in his expression.
"Amelia Bones, of course," Harry replied, as if it were the most obvious topic.
"What about her?" Sirius asked evasively, attempting to sidestep the probing inquiry.
"Where is that going? Is she your future Lady Black?" Harry inquired, delving into the realm of Sirius's personal life.
"I got disowned. Even if I did marry her, she couldn't be Lady Black," Sirius argued, a note of frustration in his voice.
"You didn't get disowned; otherwise, I wouldn't have become Lord Black," Harry retorted, speaking to Sirius as if explaining a simple concept to a slow learner. The mention of Amelia Bones opened a new chapter in their conversation, exploring the complexities of Sirius's romantic endeavors and the potential ramifications for the Black family legacy.
"But my mother—" Sirius began, interrupted by Harry's firm voice.
"She didn't have the authority to disown you," Harry interjected, wanting to clarify the misconception.
"I guess I'll have to visit my grandfather and figure out what's going on. He took over the lordship when my parents died last June," Sirius contemplated aloud, considering his next steps.
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," Harry agreed, acknowledging the necessity of Sirius diving into the intricacies of his family's inheritance.
"Easy for you to say," Sirius muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable.
Before Harry could respond, the atmosphere in the room shifted as Bellatrix and Narcissa made their entrance into the library. Narcissa handed Harry a folder, her demeanor composed as she settled into a high-backed chair.
"What's this?" Harry inquired, curiosity piqued as he opened the folder.
"Relevant information on Reginald Parkinson," Narcissa replied, her tone prim and purposeful.
"Oh god, she's got you working for her, doesn't she?" Sirius asked, a sense of horror dawning upon him.
"We made a deal a few days ago," Harry disclosed nonchalantly.
"That's how it always starts," Sirius warned, his tone carrying a note of concern.
"How? What always starts?" Narcissa interjected pointedly, sensing the undercurrents of the conversation and seeking clarity. The sudden tension in the air hinted at a complex dynamic between the individuals involved, with discussions veering into realms of family legacy, personal arrangements, and hidden motives.
"I heard the stories about you in Hogwarts; you always found a way to get someone to take care of your dirty work for you," Sirius accused, his tone carrying a hint of skepticism.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Narcissa retorted innocently, her demeanor poised.
"That Vaisley bloke you were dating that cheated on you. Heard him and the girl were both found stuck to the Great Hall ceiling in my third year," Sirius pressed, recalling a dark tale from their school days.
"I was with Andy in the common room all night," Narcissa claimed with a casual shrug.
"Exactly, because one of your little mercenaries did the deed," Sirius exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger.
"You'll never prove anything," Narcissa said smugly, a confident smile playing on her lips.
Harry, only half-engaged in their conversation, continued to peruse the contents of the folder. Among the documents, he discovered a copy of the marriage contract and a rough itinerary for Lord Parkinson's daily routine. Lord Parkinson, it seemed, ran a small chain of apothecaries with stores in London, Hogsmeade, and York. The information hinted at a potential strategy to leverage against Reginald Parkinson in their ongoing endeavors.
As the verbal sparring between Sirius and Narcissa unfolded, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the complexity of the alliances and rivalries within the wizarding world, each player holding their cards close to their chest in a game where trust was a rare commodity.
He was also recognized for his frequent visits to the 'Inebriated Sprite,' an upscale establishment in Knockturn Alley renowned for catering to affluent purebloods. The establishment boasted some of the most exclusive companions in Britain, providing an outlet for the elite to unwind and release their pent-up frustrations. It seemed like the ideal place to gather information on Parkinson.
"Hmm, perhaps it's time for me to pay a visit to a certain establishment," Harry mused, his eyes fixed on the file spread out before him.
"Excuse me?" Bellatrix inquired, her tone laced with danger.
"Hmm," Harry responded, glancing up from the documents.
"Why on earth would you be contemplating a visit to a brothel?" Bellatrix questioned with feigned sweetness.
"To arrange a meeting with Lord Parkinson," Harry replied casually, seemingly unaffected.
"Hmm, then I shall accompany you," Bellatrix declared with unwavering determination.
"It's a gentleman's club, and women aren't permitted," Harry explained matter-of-factly.
"I can transform into a snake and slither in with you," Bellatrix suggested with a nonchalant shrug.
"But no biting anyone," Harry cautioned.
"Oh, but you'll discover that I have my ways," Bellatrix countered, eliciting a snigger from Sirius. The tension in the room heightened as plans were set into motion.
"You must maintain impeccable conduct within the establishment; I don't want us getting kicked out due to the misbehavior of a rogue cobra," Harry cautioned, prompting a pout from Bellatrix.
"Very well, but if any of those women lay a finger on Bella's prized broomstick, they'll face my wrath," Bellatrix warned with a steely gaze.
"I assure you, I have no intentions of engaging in any dalliances with the ladies there. This is merely a strategic move to get closer to Parkinson," Harry reassured her.
"Which establishment are we talking about?" Sirius inquired with curiosity.
"The Drunken Pixie," Harry replied.
"Oh, that's an excellent choice. Rumor has it they even employ a couple of veela, or so I've heard," Sirius quickly amended upon noticing the disapproving look on Narcissa's face.
"They have veela?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued, oblivious to the venomous glare Bellatrix directed at her cousin.
"Yes, last I heard, they had three. Although, be warned, the hourly rates are astronomical," Sirius added.
"That might actually work in my favor," Harry mused thoughtfully.
"Come again?" Sirius questioned, seeking clarification. The plan unfolded, intricacies emerging as they prepared to navigate the world of the Drunken Pixie in pursuit of their elusive target.
"If Lord Parkinson were to receive the gift of an hour's company with one of the veela enchantresses, persuading him to sign a document nullifying a marriage contract, it could be rather advantageous. Wouldn't you agree, Narcissa?" Harry inquired, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes, Harry, that would indeed be fortuitous and quite elegant," Narcissa concurred, an approving smile gracing her features.
"Excellent. Then I believe it's time for a visit to the establishment," Harry declared with a triumphant grin, his mind already calculating the strategy.
"No physical contact," Bellatrix reiterated firmly.
"Absolutely, my dear. Sirius, care to join us?" Harry asked innocently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Really?" Sirius inquired hopefully.
"Goodness, no. I merely wanted to witness the disappointment on your face," Harry quipped, thoroughly amused.
Sirius shot him an obscene gesture, earning a disapproving click of the tongue from Narcissa.
"When do you propose we go?" Bellatrix inquired, curiosity evident in her tone. The logistics were being sorted out as anticipation filled the air, the prospect of their plan taking shape.
"We'll make our way there tomorrow afternoon and have a conversation with one of the veela," Harry planned, his thoughts carefully navigating the upcoming encounter.
"Good, I still insist on tagging along," Bella stated flatly.
"That's acceptable, as long as you conduct yourself appropriately. Otherwise, you'll find yourself bereft of any further disciplinary measures," Harry warned, prompting a gasp from Bella and a sharp look from Sirius.
"Even if it involves a mudblood?" Bellatrix inquired, a hopeful edge to her voice.
"Yes, even then. You'll merely receive a lecture that rivals the enthusiasm of Professor Binns," Harry threatened, his tone unwavering.
Bella looked horrified, while Narcissa nodded approvingly. Sirius, on the other hand, appeared utterly flabbergasted, resembling a fish out of water.
"I promise to be on my best behavior," Bellatrix declared promptly. The stage was set, anticipation hung in the air, and the dynamics among the group continued to shift as the plan unfolded.
"Excellent," Harry remarked with a satisfied smile as the plan took shape.
"You two are quite peculiar," Sirius commented, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Says the man who's the human embodiment of his animagus form," Narcissa quipped, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"You were always the mean one," Sirius pouted.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, cousin," Narcissa replied innocently.
"What about the time you lined the inside of my underwear with bubotuber puss because I broke your china doll?" Sirius accused.
"You can't prove anything," Narcissa asserted confidently.
"I know it was you; you left your hairclip on my dresser," Sirius exclaimed.
"Circumstantial evidence, you could have stolen it to frame me," Narcissa argued with a sly grin.
"As if I would subject myself to painful swelling boils just to frame you," Sirius retorted incredulously.
"Alright, this has gone on long enough, Sirius. If you're aware of how vindictive she can be, then don't provoke her," Harry interjected, bringing the argument to an abrupt end. The banter and bickering added a touch of levity to the impending mission, creating a unique camaraderie within the group.
"They've always been like this," Bellatrix remarked with an amused glint in her eyes.
"So basically, the only one he got along with was Andy," Harry surmised.
"Only because she would protect him when he got on our nerves," Narcissa explained with a dismissive shake of her head.
"That makes sense," Harry commented thoughtfully.
As the trio conversed, the atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly. Harry heard the unmistakable sound of stomping feet in the hallway, and moments later, a very grumpy Tonks entered the drawing-room, plopping onto the couch without uttering a word. Harry's attention was drawn to the door again as an angry Andromeda walked in a minute later.
"Good afternoon," Andromeda greeted, seating herself primly on the couch opposite Bella.
"What's got you so riled up?" Bella inquired with genuine curiosity.
"My daughter. She went flying without permission, and I caught her attempting a dive over the gardens," Andromeda replied tersely, her frustration evident. The family dynamics unfolded, each member revealing a distinct personality, adding layers to the narrative as they prepared for the upcoming mission.
"I could've managed it if you hadn't immobilized me," Tonks protested, a hint of defiance in her voice.
"You could've broken your foolish neck!" Andromeda exclaimed, her concern evident.
"Alright, I think I'll make myself scarce. Good luck, Nymphadora," Sirius interjected, hastily departing from the drawing-room.
"Bloody coward," Harry muttered under his breath, observing Sirius vanish through the doorway.
"Language, Harry," Narcissa chided, casting a pointed glance at her niece.
"My apologies. I believe I'll go arrange a withdrawal for tomorrow. You ladies enjoy yourselves," Harry announced before tactfully following his godfather's strategic retreat.
"Haha, at least you're learning, godson," Sirius remarked teasingly as Harry entered the kitchen.
"Enough with the fatherly lectures, Padfoot. I'm three years older than you," Harry shot back with a playful retort, the banter between the two adding a lighthearted touch to the tension in the air.
"Ah, but I have decades of experience dealing with my temperamental cousins," Sirius remarked with a smirk, sliding into his leather biker jacket. Harry couldn't help but notice the impressive reaper stitched into the back of it.
"Nice jacket. Where did you get that?" Harry inquired, curious about the origin of the distinctive piece.
"Belfast," Sirius replied casually, stepping into the Floo with an air of nonchalance. The enigmatic details surrounding Sirius' attire hinted at a storied past, adding an intriguing layer to the man who had just exited the room.
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