"Is there any way—any way at all—to do it without Dark Magic?" Harry asked.
"The Dark Arts are irreversibly intertwined with the fabric of magic itself, Potter. There is no clear separation between Dark and Light, just as there is no clean break between night and day. One requires the other to exist, and for years, wizards have argued where one ends and the other begins."
"Okay," Harry said. "I just wanted to check."
As promised, Snape had offered a solution to the problem of Sirius's loss of magic. As Sirius's magical core had merely been emptied—exchanged for his return from beyond the Veil—and not destroyed, it was possible, albeit not easy, to restore his magic to him. The answer lay in a leather-bound and disturbingly well-thumbed book Snape had found in the Black family library.
Blood Magick: The Rites
And lo, with fervent zeal did the brethren assemble beneath the blood moon, arrayed in the sigil of the five-pointed star. There did they offer the lamb, its lifeblood spilt upon the ashen stone. And by that crimson tide were wonders wrought most foul—fates unspun and rewoven, the unborn drawn back into the womb, withered hags made youthful as spring, and flesh once sundered made whole again.
Harry tried to keep an open mind. He leafed forward in the book and found another passage Snape had underlined. In the margin, a note had been written in the now very familiar Half-Blood Prince's scrawl:5 ppl, R?, sacrif., 200 lbs.
And with the essence torn from the sister of the sister, and the daughter of the mother—blood bound to blood and twice cursed—were deeds of wonder wrought beneath the hungering gaze of the blood moon. There, in the shadow of its crimson leer, death's grim toll was unspoken, wounds older than memory were unwound, and the weeping of magic itself seized by unworthy hands.
"Er," Harry began. He placed the book back in the middle of the table. "I mean. Doesn't seem like we have many other options."
"We have plenty of options, Potter," said Snape. "We can simply let this go and return to our 'rethe one who keeps asking for my help."
"Come now,Severus," Sirius hissed out Snape's first name, glancing meaningfully at Harry, who had given him a human resources training session the previous night. "You're itching to do the ritual just to see what happens." Sirius rocked back on his chair. Harry had to admit, his godfather had really perfected the chair work in the long days of sitting around doing nothing.
"You just want to make it seem like we begged you to do it."
"Oh, is that so?" Snape locked eyes with Sirius. "Are you telling me you didnotenjoy doing magic again—through me? Did you not find it… exciting?"
Sirius looked away, and Harry was surprised to see he colored must really want his magic back,Harry have to go through with this.
"We have to go through with this," Harry said aloud. "We've come this far already, and we'll finish it."
"I agree," said Luna, who had just entered the room carrying a huge pink cup steaming with herbal tea she'd been brewing in the kitchen. Harry had met her at Hogwarts earlier in the day, where she'd joined in on the renovation. On a whim, he had asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him for lunch. As he was not quite sure how to send her away, she had been tagging along ever since.
"How many other people are here?" Snape asked.
"Just me, Luna, and Sirius. That's it," Harry said quickly.
"Would you like some morrowshade tea, Professor?" Luna asked.
"No. I'd prefer to stay alive for now."
Luna let out a loud, shrieking laugh. "Oh, but it's blue morrowshade, not red."
"Well, as long as it's not purple," Snape replied, and Luna shrieked with laughter again. Harry found himself rather annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the Potions jokes. He'd never in his life heard of morrowshade.
"Anyway," said Sirius. "About the ritual. Actually, yes, of course I want it. And why not, I say me and Mr. Prince of Darkness here do it. Not like there's much loss for the wizarding world if theBlood Moonconsumes us, right? Except—except—we will need either Narcissa or Andromeda's help, if I've read thefoul and evilinstructions correctly."
Harry was happy to see Sirius finally taking a bit of initiative. Maybe his godfather wanted to live after all.
"Your cousins only share about twelve percent of your genetic information, Black. Well—luckily for them," Snape said. "It would be too risky to use their blood, it's too ... diluted."
"Alright then," said Sirius. "What do you suggest?"
"How about we discuss payment first, and then I will tell you."
There was a pause during which only Luna's sipping of tea could be heard.
"See, Harry," Sirius turned to Harry. "You offer these people a finger, they bite off your hand."
Harry, cringing atthese peopleharder than he had at the blood moon's crimson leer, once again had to step in to moderate the discussion. The irony was not lost on him: somehow, the two people most at odds were his mother's best friend and his father's best friend. Did they not see they were similar in more ways than they were different?
In the end, it turned out Snape didn't want all that much from Sirius.
Just his house.
"Well," Harry said to Sirius. "You hate it anyway."
Sirius leaned toward Harry and spoke in a perfectly audible whisper:
"Do you seriously not see that whenever we concede something, he just asks for more?"
"But he keeps delivering, doesn't he?"
"Whatever," Sirius threw up his arms. "With your frugality, you'll squander the Potter fortune before you're even twenty. Don't come running to me then."
"You sound like your mother, Black," Snape said from the other side of the table.
"And you sound like your father, living off other people's _"
"We take the deal," Harry spoke loudly over SIrius.
"Excellent. Well now, speaking of family - it's time we travel to see your brother, Black."
"Could you roll down the window, Snape?"
Snape leant on the handle, creating a minuscule gap between the top of the glass and the door frame.
"Wow, thanks! Feels like a convertible already!"
Sirius, in his current Muggle-like state, could not use any form of magic-powered transport, so after he and Harry flew to the U.S. by plane, they rented a car at the airport. Harry chose a red BMW, which Sirius approved of and Snape, once they picked him and Luna up at the Portkey station, did not. Luna, whom apparently no one knew how to send away, said she was on the fence about the car:
"I would prefer blue, but I like the pop-up headlights. It looks like a dragon opening its eyes."
As Snape had explained, he and Regulus agreed that Regulus would leave a summoning Mark at the oldest oak in Oak Hill, should Snape ever want to find him again. The problem was, there were over a hundred places named Oak Hill all across America.
"I was sixteen and under pressure when we made that plan," Snape said. "How many lives had you helped save when you were sixteen, Black?"
"How many lives had you ruined by the time you were thirty-six, Snape? We can play this game all day, if you like."
"Well, maybe," Harry offered. "Maybe … Regulus realized that too and left the mark in more than one of the Oak Hills."
"That's what I would do," Luna said. "Only I would choose the birch tree. They symbolize rebirth, the starting of a new life. That would be more fitting to the situation."
"Again," said Snape. "We did not exactly have time to put that much thought into it."
"Oh, but this is interesting!" Luna exclaimed from the back seat some miles later.
Harry, who was driving, turned down the radio, making the lyricsSomething in the way, something in the waydie out.
"Another sighting of the Gorgon reported byThe Beastly Truth." Luna had purchased several magazines at the American side of the Portkey station, all of them quack. She cleared her throat and read aloud:
"The ancient Gorgon, also called the Animavorax or the Devourer of Souls, was sighted near Bangor, Maine. Our reporter traveled to the site of an isolated house to interrogate the Muggle witness. Edna White says she was just minding her own business, knitting on the porch, listening to an NPR programme about Johnny Cash when suddenly: 'There was just static on the radio. The sky turned black and the wind picked up. I wanted to get back to the house, but the door banged shut and I could not open it. The air filled with something foul, like when you crack a bad egg.'"
"Turn left here," Snape said to Harry, peering at the map.
"I felt so afraid that I froze on the spot, my life flashing in front of my eyes," Luna continued reading from the article. "Oooh, but this is interesting. TheAnimavoraxhas never been seen in Britain—they say it doesn't like mixing milk with tea."
"That's because it's made up," Snape said. "An over-the-top version of the Dementor, Luna."
Harry resented how Snape made it clear whom he liked by using their first name. Although he wasn't surprised that Snape liked Luna—she had grown on Harry, too.
"They always go for your souls, these wicked things, don't they," said Sirius. "It's either souls or immortality or your house and money, isn't that right, Snape?"
Snape ignored him. Harry thought that for someone who claimed not to give a hippogriff's feathery arse about anything, Sirius sure did like mentioning how he had been forced to part with a small portion of his fortune—and how Snape then had the gall to ask him for Grimmauld Place, too. The money was for Hogwarts, anyway. Harry would have just paid it out of his pocket, no questions asked, even if Snape had not given anything in return. And honestly, the Black family mansion was more in Snape's style anyway.
Finally, they arrived in Oak Hill, Scarborough, Maine. This part of town was surrounded by lush woods, the leaves already turning red and yellow with the coming autumn. Snape used a diagnostic spell and had his wand lead them to the oldest oak in the area. It was massive, the bark furrowed and covered with moss.
"Reveal your secrets," Snape pointed his wand at the oak. At first, nothing happened. The leaves rustled in the breeze.
"Look!" Harry pointed to something that flickered gold, almost like a Snitch, in the tree's crown. Then, another light appeared and then another and another. There were tiny stars forming a sort of rectangle with a curve stretching upward … Harry frowned in confusion.
"Oh, it's the constellation of the Leo!" Luna said. "How clever! Now we just have to touch Regulus, the brightest star"" She turned to Sirius. "Was your brother in Ravenclaw?"
Sirius did not seem to notice he was being addressed; he was staring up at the shining stars, his tired, prematurely lined face strangely wistful. He had clearly not believed in his brother's survival up till now.
Snape shot a spark toward the brightest light in the tree's crown and it blazed even brighter—and then went dark, along with the rest of the constellation.
A few minutes later, there was the sound of someone Apparating nearby. They saw a young man heading in their direction. He was holding a shining amulet of the Leo constellation in his hand, his expression of hesitant wonder eerily echoing Sirius's. They looked very much like brothers then, but it was only at first sight—the more one looked, the more their differences stood out.
Regulus Black was not as tall as his brother, nor as broadly built. His features were not as stunningly symmetrical and his eyes were brown and kind, rather than Sirius's haughty grey. He looked a decade or more younger than Sirius, too—his hair brown-black with no signs of greying and his face full, healthy, and clean-shaven.
Regulus did not seem to notice his brother—he walked right past him to greet Snape.
"Severus, this is incredible! I just … I don't know what to say. It's so great to see you! You haven't changed at all!" He grabbed Snape by the shoulders and crushed him in a hug. "Loving the hair by the way!" he added when he drew back. Snape's hair was still rather short from the healers cutting it to access Nagini's bite.
"Are these your kids?" Regulus beamed at Luna and Harry.
"No, no," Snape said quickly. "These are my students."
"Students?Cool." Regulus gave both Harry and Luna a firm, heartfelt handshake. "Nice to meet you. Hello. Luna, wow, what a lovely name. You look just like a Luna. And Harry, my man. John Lennon glasses, so rad. My pleasure."
He then moved eagerly to the lone dark figure of his older brother, scanning his features for signs of recognition.
"And who is—" His smile froze when he realized who he was looking at. "Sirius … Merlin's balls, what happened?"
"Ah, that," Sirius gestured vaguely to himself. "It's a ... long story."
Seeing there would be plenty to discuss, Regulus invited them over to his house. Just a regular two-story with a porch from the outside, it was cluttered with various part-Muggle, part-magical implements on the inside. A fully automated kitchen corner that took orders through a computer, a self-cleaning cat toilet that resembled a giant turtle and paced slowly about the hall, a camera lens that floated in mid-air and scanned the room for places to clean, and finally, a golden robot that clanked about the place trying to perform all the tasks it had queued up while keeping itself from falling apart. It was now stuck in a perpetual cycle of losing its leg on the stairs, returning to fix it and then climbing back up again, getting the leg stuck and dislocated in the same place.
"My wife's stuff." Regulus explained. "She's a magical engineer. The future of tomorrow is here today - at least in our house. She's at a conference, so the gadgets are running a bit wild."
"Regulus -" Sirius stopped his brother at the entrance to the living room. Behind them, Harry could see the couch was very busy trying to de-hair itself. Regulus looked at Sirius, smiling, curious. But Sirius seemed to be at a loss for words.
"Please," Regulus held out his hand. Clearly, the last time they saw each other had not quite been the scene of brotherly love. "Let's not go there. What happened, happened. We were both just kids. I'm not going to hold you responsible for something you said or did twenty years ago. We have moved on far from that. It would be ridiculous to hold some sort of grudge this long."
Snape cleared his throat. "Well, anyway. How did the last two decades go for you, Regulus?"
As it turned out, Regulus had made the best of his years in exile and seemed to have left the past far behind him where it belonged. Harry marveled at how different Regulus was from his brother. He, too, was loud and a bit of a showoff, but there was no bitterness, no self-pity and not that much arrogance. Also, Regulus's sense of humor was of the wildly unpredictable kind.
"Let's see, I was with my first wife for three years, but she died in a dragon attack," he told them while the kitchen was flying their dinner to them on winged dishes. "Then I got remarried, but, a freak coincidence, second wife died in a dragon attack too. I had to give up my job after that."
"That's horrible!" Harry said. "What was the job?"
"Dragon trainer."
Everyone guffawed - except Harry. "Oh," he said.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Harry!" Regulus wiped his eyes, chuckling. "You walked right into that one. But let me just make something clear for you. I'm not Sirius. I'm Regulus. So I can't be serious. Do you get it?"
"He gets it," said Sirius.
"Been waiting twenty years to make that one again."
They drank beers and talked into the night. Regulus explained that since he did not want to put anyone in danger by flaunting his survival, he had cut himself off completely from his past life and did not look for any information about wizarding Britain, lest he would go down the rabbit hole of never knowing enough.
"So what happened with Lily?" he asked Snape.
"This is her son," Snape inclined his head toward Harry. "She married James Potter and-"
Regulus howled with laughter. He only stopped when he saw the rest of the group's stony faces. "Oh wow, sorry, that's, well, to each their own. My bad, Harry." He patted Harry on the shoulder. "Harry Potter, then? You know, I feel like there was some article about you inThe Bewitchernot long ago … but there's so much desinformation in the press here, it's hard to pick the one grain of truth... And I never thought you'd end up with Lily anyway, Severus. You know, truth be told, I think I always knew you were gay."
Only the whirring and buzzing of the magical machines could be heard in the dreadful silence that descended upon them. Luna sipped her beer and nodded.
"What?" Snape asked, having gone still like a deer in headlights.
"Come on now! Don't pull my leg, man. Mate. I thought-" Regulus gestured with his beer between Snape and Sirius. "I mean, are you telling me you're not together?"
"What?" Sirius asked. "Why would you, I mean, why would you even -what?"
"I thought that's why you came to find me. Together. Also, I'm not blind. Anyone could see the looks you give him."
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Sirius shouted.
"Relax." Regulus shrugged, and then added: "I only meant to be funny."
"Oh, ha ha." Snape said, his blanched face finally erupting in blotches of color. "It's not funny. Besides, I'm only here because he's paying me."
Regulus raised his eyebrows and gave Snape a wink.
Sirius drowned the beer and placed the empty bottle on the coffee table. "I'm going to bed."
"Come on, guys. Don't let one bad joke ruin the evening. I promise I'll keep itseriousfrom now on." Regulus turned to a robot that was mindlessly sweeping in circles. "Keira, cancel the double room."
Regulus eventually convinced his brother to sit back down, and the night continued on.
A few more out-of-proportion jokes and revelations later, they finally got to the topic of Sirius's loss of magic.
"Ah, I was afraid you were going to do the Gerendelle ritual," Regulus said. "That would be suicide, at least legally. They are far stricter about the misuse of Dark magic here. It's not like the old days, Sev."
"Don't worry. We want to do the Blood Moon … thing. Right?" Harry looked at Snape for help.
"Master Gerendelle is the author of the book, Potter. It's the same thing."
"Well in that case," Regulus said, "count me out. I've had my share of Dark Arts to last me a lifetime."
Harry laughed.
"I think he's actually serious, now, Potter." Snape said.
"I will provide the blood," Regulus said. "but I won't participate. You're going to have to make do on your own."
"Certainly," Snape said. "Should be quite uncomplicated anyway. I've already thought of a plan and it's spellproof."
There was still a few days to go before the full moon, so they each used the time according to their preference. Luna convinced Harry to accompany her on some of the nearby hiking trails, hoping to scout out the local magical cryptids. So far, they hadn't come across any, though Luna claimed she had brushed against the invisible pygmy banshee's wings while peeing in the underbrush.
Snape spent the spare time catching up with Regulus and, once she returned home, discussing magic and technology with Regulus's wife, Mirabella. Sirius mostly sulked about, fiddled with gadgets and bided his time until the evening when he could start drinking again.
"Oh look, the cinema is having a retro week," Luna said on the last day, reading a Muggle newspaper that arrived that morning.
"Yeah? What's on tonight?" Harry asked, excited. He had never been to the cinema.
"Rocky Horror Picture Showat 6 PM and—"
"I haven't seen that one in ages!" said Sirius.
"And you won't see it tonight," Snape said. "They want to go together—not with a creepy chaperone."
When the day of the ritual arrived, Regulus made a small incision on his wrist and filled a vial with his blood. The plan was becoming a reality.
Mirabella and Regulus bid Harry, Luna, Sirius, and Snape good luck, and they drove the red BMW deep into the woods. Finding a suitable clearing—the heart of the forest, as Snape had specified—they began the preparations.
Stones had to be arranged in the shape of a pentagram, with a flat boulder representing the altar in the center. Each of them would take a position at one of the points of the sigil; the fifth would be occupied by the golden robot Mirabella had lent them. "I'll be grateful for whatever scraps are left of him," she had said, stroking the robot's shiny head.
There really isn't that much difference between Light and Dark magic, Harry thought, levitating the stones into seem like a lot of work.
It was a pleasant September night—still warm, with a fresh breeze and no clouds in the sky. The full moon watched them from above, serene and distant.
"Now to lure in the wildlife," Snape said. "Luna?"
Luna reached into her tasseled pouch and brought out a mixture of herbs. She tossed them around, chanting under her breath.
Not long after, a small herd of deer emerged from the underbrush, their nostrils flaring, ears twitching. Bewitched by the enticing scent of the herbs, they took no notice of the humans—nor of the rather melancholically whirring robot.
"Right," Snape said, sizing up the deer. "We'll take this one. He should be about 200 pounds." He pointed his wand at one and stunned it. Once its legs gave out, the rest of the deer scattered, white tails bobbing back among the trees.
They placed the deer on the altar and fixed a large mirror beneath it—it reflected the moon in the sky above them.
"We may begin," Snape said. "Just do as I say. Black, whatever you do, don't forget the words. And don't lose the vial."
Each of them took their position at one point of the pentagram. Snape remained by the altar, regarding the deer with something that Harry, were he being generous, might call regret.
"Sectumsempra." Snape pointed his wand at the deer's neck. A violent gash parted the fur, and bright red blood began pulsing out, flowing onto the mirror—onto the moon reflected in its surface. Snape stepped back to the last unoccupied point of the pentagram and spoke:
"Awaken, Blood Moon, we call upon you—with the offer of a freshly killed sacrifice—to fulfill our wish."
A wind began to rise. Snape continued.
"With the blood of the innocent, we ask you to come forth and exercise your might."
The bloodied mirror began to shake and then, a crimson orb squelched into existence from it. Blood swirled around its surface, dripping from its black, congealed craters.
It was Sirius's turn now. He pulled out a knife and cut into his forearm. Then he opened the vial of Regulus's blood and let it drip onto the wound, mixing his brother's blood with his own. The orb turned toward him, making a hungry, smacking sound.
"Say the words, Black," Snape instructed.
Sirius looked at the blood-filled orb and recited, "Sanguis fratris, coniuncta magia."
The wind intensified. The orb began to tremble and expand, filling with more and more blood. The body of the deer was lifted by the orb's pull—it had been almost completely drained.
The orb slurped the last dregs of the deer's blood, then floated toward Sirius, paused for a moment, and enveloped him.
"Sirius!" Harry jumped forward.
"Back to your place, Potter," Snape hissed.
Harry obeyed and watched as the orb shivered around Sirius and then gradually grew lighter. The blood cleared. Only web-like tendrils remained of the orb's round form—until they, too, thinned, burst, and disappeared. There was a loud crack as the mirror shattered—and it was over.
"Did it work?" Harry asked.
All in all, it wasn't that bad, he the Dark Arts did have a place in the world of magic.
Sirius looked himself up and down, then laughed. "Yeah, I think it worked. I can feel—"
"Wait!" Luna shouted, her hair flying wildly around her head. "Why isn't the wind stopping?"
As if in response, dark clouds cloaked the real Moon above them. Heavy, foreboding darkness descended upon them.
"Is this part of the ritual?" Harry shouted over the roaring wind.
The robot's arm flew off— and then its head.
The wind howled louder and stronger. Leaves whirled around them in a maelstrom. The stones of the pentagram scattered. The makeshift altar overturned. Then came the strong, suffocating stench of sulphur—of rotten eggs.
"Fuck!"
"It's the Gorgon! Run!"
A giant, gnarled hand reached down from the black sky and scooped up Sirius. Harry ran toward the monstrous fingers.
"Let go of him!" he shouted, kicking and punching.
Snape grabbed Harry by the shoulders and threw him away from the hand, toward the trees. "Run!" he yelled.
Snape almost made it out of the clearing himself—but a second hand appeared, closing around him like a trap.