The Yule Gala
“I’m going to embarrass you, I just know it.”
Sirius sighed and looked at Harry with genuine affection. Harry looked great, dressed up in the black muggle tuxedo Sirius had ordered him and then magically tailored. Sirius forced his hair into something that was nearly submission. The entire look was finished off with the Potter family ring on his right hand.
Harry looked every bit the image Sirius decided on for the evening.
That wasn’t to say that Sirius didn’t also look dashing, because he did. Sirius had a tux similar to Harry’s, his hair just tamed enough to be presentable, and his own ring on. It felt foreign on Sirius, a heavy and cold weight of all the expectations he had spat upon. He never expected to ever want the damn thing on his hand.
Sirius’s own idea to go to Yule in muggle attire seemed to be his best one recently. If he had to see himself dressed up and in traditional robes he might have taken a dive off the nearest tower.
“You can’t embarrass me because I don’t give a damn about any of these people,” Sirius assured Harry once more. Harry had mentioned a few times that he was anxious about the event, though Sirius didn’t understand why.
Sirius spent the last few days filling Harry in on traditional etiquette and expectations, just so he wouldn’t feel like he was standing out any. It was basic stuff: use formal titles for introductions, always greet the more powerful individual first, use formal names until invited otherwise, don’t pull a wand unless he planned to start and finish a formal duel.
It wasn’t all that much to remember and Sirius himself didn’t care about any of the stuffy expectations, but Harry had a strange aversion to standing out. The last place he should want to fit in would be at a Yule Gala, though Sirius was rather depressed at the realization that they would both be accepted all too easily.
Harry was famous and the last remaining Potter. Sirius set himself up as a mystery, the unknown Black Heir. That didn’t even account for Harry’s secondary title as the Peverell descent, the Heir to the House of Death.
Circe, what a powerful curse and blessing that was.
Sirius had heavily warned Harry to not bring that up around anyone else. Someone could do the math, trace the lineage, and guess who ended up inheriting that mixed trunk - until then though, it was best if nobody knew about it.
It had been a decade of lessons Sirius learned passed on to Harry in a matter of days, but it didn’t matter if Harry messed up. Harry was politically powerful and personable enough that he’d be forgiven for any slights and Sirius would personally curse anyone who so much as clicked a tongue at him.
With the ring weighing down his right hand, Sirius didn’t doubt that any curse he cast would be painful beyond imagination. Family rings carried a sense of magic within them, Sirius had always known it and rejected it before. Accepting it felt like a loss of who he was, but also felt like a sliver of who he could be fell in place.
Mixed trunks all around, really.
Sirius checked them both over one more time before nodding in approval. Their invitation would take them to the manor in a moment and Sirius was sure they had everything they needed.
Harry had the gift to Narcissa, Sirius had their candles for the Yule mantle. Their own mantle was decorated for Christmas instead of Yule and Sirius was looking forward to the next morning when he and Harry could have Christmas together.
They had technically celebrated together before, but it had been a rather gloomy occasion and Sirius had a vague recollection that he spent much of the day in a sulk. He wouldn’t again, Sirius planned to be up first and have everything ready for a perfect day together.
It would be much better than the Yule Gala, Sirius was sure. Though he was eager to see Cissa and a few of the old crowd.
“Ready?” Sirius asked Harry when their clock began chiming for eight.
Harry released a shaking breath and nodded as Sirius grasped his hand - Sirius liked the security of having Harry under his arm, there was a different and softer thrill of trust and affection when he had Harry’s palm in his.
“We’re getting the diary and Dobby,” Harry reminded Sirius sternly. Those had been his requirements to attend the gala; they had to get a cursed diary and a mad house-elf.
Sirius would have agreed to almost anything for a chance to see some of the last remaining members of his family. If Harry refused to go, they wouldn’t have gone. It was called a compromise and it apparently was a brilliant tool to use to keep bickering to a minimum.
“Diary, Dobby,” Sirius agreed. “Let’s party!”
Malfoy Manor was twice as large and obstinate as Sirius recalled it being. It was, without a doubt, what Sirius’s parents had always called new money.
The Malfoy name may date back as far as the Black name, but the fortune was more recent. It made Lucius tacky, a trait Sirius noticed his son carried. Their house as well, Sirius was surprised that Narcissa agreed to live in a place that reeked of wasted money just from the outside view.
“Circe, I hate him,” Sirius muttered as he walked up the pathway lit by fairies. “Why would he think that bloody peacocks were better to breed than pegasi? Old Abraxas at least offered pegasi rides during his galas.”
“Who’s that?” Harry had a tight grip on Sirius’s hand and didn’t sound so hot. Sirius paused before they reached the manor door so he could reassure him one last time.
“Lucius’s father, don’t worry about it,” Sirius said hastily. He had given Harry a rundown on the sacred families, including the extinct lines and the ones that were pruned from the recent list.
The Potter line was no longer considered sacred, though Sirius knew that nobody would dare say that to Harry’s face. The Prewett line would be held by Molly Weasley’s daughter, the Weasley line by her eldest son, but they wouldn’t be in attendance.
It was a suppressed second nature in Sirius, he didn’t think that sharing his knowledge would have Harry even more anxious about the event.
“Relax,” Sirius told Harry soothingly. “Everyone’s going to be tripping over themselves to impress you, you don’t have to remember everyone’s names. Hell, Pup, you’re probably the only one at this party who could get away with calling them all piss ants and they’d still invite you to the Solstice.”
“That’s not actually helpful,” Harry groaned. He was pale and Sirius could see sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Sirius must truly have been mental because instead of doing the sensible thing and taking Harry back to Grimmauld Place, he kissed him.
It was impulsive and daft.
It was slow and tore Sirius’s chest enough to give it a painful edge.
It also had the intended side-effect of knocking the panic right out of Harry.
Sirius needed to stop doing that. It was wrong and awful and felt too right.
“Good?” Sirius asked, a bit breathless. It was a chaste kiss, childish. It still stole the air from Sirius’s lungs and made him light-headed.
“Yeah,” Harry said, not sounding any more put together than Sirius. He smiled though, the first one of the day, and Sirius gleefully pulled him to the front door.
Sirius raised his hand to knock and had half of a second before the door was opened. It was Narcissa who greeted them - Sirius’s childhood friend, his cousin. She was grown, had dyed her hair, but Sirius could place those eyes and that surprised smile in a hundred memories.
“Heir Potter and,” Narcissa’s eyes flicked to Sirius’s hand and he saw the curl of amusement in her lips, “Heir Black. Blessed Yule.”
“Blessed Yule, Lady Malfoy,” Sirius said respectfully.
Harry echoed him and then nervously offered up their gift.
“Er… a Yule offering in thanks for inviting us,” Harry said. It wasn’t the exact wording Sirius taught him, but he had the spirit!
“Thank you,” Narcissa said, perfectly warm and polite. “Won't you both come in? It’s a pleasure to have you. Heir Black, did you know that your father and I were cousins?”
Sirius shouldn’t have been so pleased to hear that, he shouldn’t have. Sirius knew that Narcissa only said that because the Malfoy and Black families had no difficulty in accepting Sirius Orion’s alleged history and infamy.
It still felt as if a thousand pairs of wings had filled Sirius’s stomach and lifted him in the air to walk on sunshine.
Someone claimed him. Someone had immediately claimed Sirius. Sirius’s cousin still claimed him.
“He was lucky to be related to someone as beautiful as you,” Sirius teased her, grinning too hard. “And, please, call me Sirius.”
Narcissa laughed lightly and directed them through the overly decorated and gleaming foyer to what Sirius assumed was the ballroom.
“You boys look just like your fathers,” Narcissa said. Her posture softened as she stared at Harry a moment too long. “Except for you, you do favor your mother to a degree.”
Harry blinked in surprise while Sirius stifled a laugh and instead studied the ballroom. They were probably some of the last guests to arrive, purposefully Sirius was sure. Sirius could see quite a few of the old crowd prancing about in their finery, showing off their heirs. There were clusters of kids, quite a few classmates.
The ballroom itself looked grand, decorated in golds and greens, traditional Yule colors. The mantle in the center of the back wall was already decorated in a variety of candles of all sizes and colors. There were house-elves in white pillowcases popping about, offering trays of drinks to go with the table covered in platters.
When Sirius inhaled, it smelled like his childhood. It was perfume, cologne, pine, and candles.
Sirius found that he didn’t mind the smell as much as he had when he was a boy.
“I’ll introduce you to my husband,” Narcissa said politely. “I believe he’s with the Minister now.”
A happy coincidence, Sirius was sure. It definitely wasn’t planned that the Malfoys would get to be the pair to introduce Harry Potter to high society.
Sirius kept his head held high and waved at the people who already knew him. Marcus Flint was there, Susan Bones, Hannah and Johnny Abbott. Johnny had on his own muggle attire and Sirius grinned at him - he was an interesting one.
Alexander Lestrange was there with his mother, he was being flaunted and her shunned. It was a ballsy move on her part to show up at a Yule Gala when she was the mother of a pureblooded bastard, Sirius admired that sort of pluck.
Harry had his head semi-ducked, just enough so he could look around without catching the eye of any of the guests who were already whispering about their appearance. It was something of Harry’s coming out party to the pureblooded society and Sirius could practically taste everyone’s curiosity.
Lucius Malfoy stood in the center of the room with a few ministry officials, including the Minister and the last person who Sirius ever hoped to see again - Bartemius Crouch Senior.
“Oh, fuck,” Sirius whispered, quietly enough that only Harry heard him. Harry looked where Sirius was glaring and his jaw dropped.
“Siri… his son,” Harry hissed suddenly, yanking hard on Sirius’s hand. “We forgot about him.”
They did, actually. Not that there was anything to do about it then, Sirius was more concerned with not breaking stride and biting Crouch than he was Barty.
“Later,” Sirius murmured. When Narcissa cleared her throat to gain the attention of the men, Sirius pasted on his most charming smile.
“Husband, I would like you to meet Heir Potter and Heir Black,” Narcissa said, gliding to Lucius’s side and looking the part of the lady of the house perfectly.
Lucius appraised them both evenly and offered Harry a hand first. Harry - Circe, Sirius loved him so much it was bloody painful - only glanced at it while he kept his hands at his side.
“Pleasure,” Harry said, almost polite.
Lucius was clearly galled by Harry’s refusal of his hand, then Sirius’s when Sirius followed suit, but remained polite.
“It’s a pleasure to have you both,” Lucius said. “My son speaks highly of you. May I introduce you to Minister Fudge, Lord Selwyn, and Mister Crouch?”
Sirius immediately offered Jacoby Selwyn his hand, just to make a point. Jacoby was a narrow minded moron, but he hadn’t personally offended Sirius since they were in school together.
Unlike the others.
“Heir Black?” Crouch commented, staring down his nose at Sirius. “Surely Black didn’t procreate?”
“Sirius was a virile young man before his arrest,” Selwyn said, winking at Sirius. “Heir Black looks just like him. We went to school together, you know.”
They did and the dislike was very much mutual. They had been friendly when they were just boys being forced to attend galas and dinners together; a childhood acquaintanceship wasn’t strong enough to surpass their vastly different ideals on the world. Jacoby and Reggie had been close though, they played quidditch together and participated in a dueling competition as partners.
“Then you must remember Heir Potter’s parents as well,” Narcissa said, smoothly moving the conversation away from Sirius Orion. “They were a year below me.”
“Ah, yes.” Jacoby smiled wickedly at Lucius, though his words were aimed at Narcissa. “You and Lady Potter were quite good friends, weren’t you, Narcissa?”
Sirius was pleased that Jacoby’s wit had carried on with him. What was a gala without some catty comments?
“We were,” Narcissa said shortly, sadly showing she was too poised and mature to rise to the bait. “Boys, if you would like, I believe Draco is sneaking dessert over with the other children. Come, I’ll take you.”
“We can find our way,” Sirius offered. “Thank you for having us.”
Before Narcissa could lead them around and stick them with the kids, Sirius pulled Harry by the hand so they could make their own lap around the room.
“What was that? About my mum?” Harry asked Sirius once they were away from the group. Sirius hummed, more focused on seeing who all had shown up than he was the past.
Old Slughorn had made it, which didn’t surprise Sirius any. He was chatting up Thorfin Rowle and the Avery girl. Ollivander’s daughter stood talking with the Greengrass family, still as ethereal as she had always been. It was unnerving, really. Even as a girl, Aurelia had a way of staring as someone as if she could see and examine their soul.
Sirius never cared for her.
Axel Rosier was there, holding the hand of a boy that looked a few years younger than Sirius and Harry did. It struck Sirius for a moment, seeing the boy. He looked just like Evan… Sirius wouldn’t doubt that, given his age, the boy was conceived to replace Evan as the Rosier Heir.
Sirius hoped the kid had a better outcome than his brother did.
Torquil Travers had a young wife, quite young, and a baby in his arms. Sirius grimaced at that; Torquil’s first wife had been young as well, Torquil brought her home from a trip abroad and the poor woman had passed only a few years later. And, speaking of men who shouldn’t be married, Sirius saw Thaddeus Nott drinking in a corner with Nicholas Burke and Burke’s young heir.
There were some families who weren’t there, the ones who fought on the Order’s side in the war. The Fawleys were absent, the Weasleys, Kingsley, and Albus most notably. Sirius didn’t expect to see any of them, he didn’t think he even wanted to see any of them - except maybe Kingsley.
Sirius finished his laps and then bounced on the balls of his boots, watching Augusta Longbottom pat a house-elf on the head condescendingly, deciding what to do first.
There were so many people! So much mayhem that could happen!
“Food?” Sirius asked Harry, seeing their classmates over near the buffet laid out. Food was the first order of business, Harry needed to eat. They could plan from there.
“In a minute, maybe,” Harry said. “I’m going to find a loo, I’ll - er - I’ll be back.”
Sirius nodded, his attention distracted by the sight of Amelia Bones walking over to where Susan was. Sirius debated for half a second before loping across the ballroom toward her, cheered just by her appearance.
Amelia and Sirius had been friendly in school, she had been friendly with almost everyone in their year - but Sirius and her had always been close. Amelia hardly looked as if she’d aged any, still just as fresh and lovely looking as ever, though maybe Sirius spotted a wrinkle beside her eyes already. It probably came with the stress of raising her brother’s child after his death…
If things had been different - Sirius imagined that Harry and Susan would have grown up as the very closest of friends.
“Lady Bones?” Sirius pulled Amelia’s attention to him and smiled widely at her momentary look of surprise. “Hello, I’m Heir Sirius James Black.”
“Sirius James Black.” Amelia looked down at Sirius and he could have wailed when she slowly smiled. “You, Heir Black, look just like your father.”
“I get that a lot,” Sirius said, beaming on the inside and out. “Please, call me Sirius.”
“And you should call me Amelia,” Amelia replied. “Please, I don’t mean to be rude, but I knew your father. We were… well, we had been quite good friends. Is your mother here with you? I’d like to shake the hand of the woman who put up with him.”
Sirius laughed, truly laughed, loudly enough that little Susan perked up and joined them to see what the joke was.
“My mother’s name is Mary Macdonald,” Sirius said. “She was killed when I was very young.”
Amelia frowned suddenly, worrying Sirius.
“Your mother is Mary Macdonald?” Amelia repeated. “You’re - are you quite sure?”
The thing about Amelia was that she was brilliant. Amelia was observant and intelligent. She was friendly with everyone in school and it served her well, Amelia knew more about their classmates than anyone. And Sirius had the horrible feeling that he had just made a grand mistake.
“That’s what I was told…” Sirius said slowly, hiding his sudden panic. “Do you think she wasn’t?”
“I… hm.” Amelia narrowed her eyes and looked Sirius over from the top of his head clear down to his shoes. When she finished, Sirius was sure she knew something he didn’t.
“Maybe this is a conversation best held another time,” she suggested gently, correctly guessing that there would be at least one person eavesdropping. “Why don’t you come visit this summer? Susan told me great things, I’d love to have you for tea. I could bring out some photo albums for you, you could see how striking your resemblance to your father is.”
“Can Harry come too, Auntie?” Susan pulled on Amelia’s sleeve pleadingly. “Because you can’t invite Sirius and not Harry, they’re always together.”
“Are they?” Amelia’s eyes misted over and it made Sirius ache with the memories she must be reliving. “Yes, please,” she told him. “Harry as well.”
“We’ll be there,” Sirius swore. He wouldn’t miss that for the world… especially if Amelia knew something that ruined Sirius’s entire backstory.
Amelia nodded and promised to send along the information with Sirius before excusing herself to speak with Augusta. Susan didn’t leave though, she glued herself to Sirius’s side and looked around the room with a huge smile.
“Are you having fun?” Susan asked. “I love Yule Galas. They can be stuffy sometimes, but it’s more fun now that we’re all older. Did you see the others? Neville and Ernie are here. Oh! Sirius!” Susan pulled on Sirius’s arm then, pointing toward the entrance of the ballroom. “Is that Professor Snape with Professor Lupin?”
Was it who with who?!
Sirius craned his neck to look where Susan was and nothing could have prepared him to see Severus Snape walking in the ballroom with Remus Lupin at his side. Snape looked like Snape, greasy and hateful and disgusted, Remus looked…
Remus had dressed up, in a nice pair of deep brown dress robes. He was smiling. Remus was looking at Snivellus and smiling.
“What the fuck,” Sirius whispered. He looked to his right, to get Harry’s opinion, and frowned when he wasn’t there.
How long ago had Harry gone looking for a bathroom?
Harry was gone and Remus was walking with Snape and Sirius suddenly thought that he might be ill.
In what bloody world was Remus on friendly terms with Snape? In what world would Remus attend a Yule Gala at the Malfoy’s manor? Not only was Remus not a pureblood, but he had mocked the old traditions, called them conformist and outdated! They laughed together, all of the marauders, when Sirius imitated some of the more absurd events that he witnessed during his childhood!
Snape showing up wasn’t wholly surprising, he had tried to pass himself off as a pureblood, even wore a family ring for a tainted line when they were in school. Snape would be desperate to rub elbows with the higher society, always working to be relevant.
BUT WHY WAS REMUS THERE?!
Sirius didn’t think, he just started crossing the room, his eyes pinned accusingly on Remus. Susan followed him, talking about something Sirius couldn’t hear under the angry buzzing in his ears.
How dare Remus? How dare he smile at Snape and act as if they were friends? Did he remember the horrible things Snape did, the horrible person he was?
Sirius was prepared to begin yelling as soon as he was near Remus, it was only Susan’s greeting that kept Sirius from ripping Remus to shreds in front of an audience.
“Professor Lupin! Professor Snape! Hi!” Susan grinned up at the two men, as if their presence was in any way welcome.
Snape didn’t sneer at Susan, he looked nearly neutral until he saw Sirius. Sirius didn’t care about Snape’s hate, Sirius cared that Remus looked at Sirius and there was a moment of guilt shadowing his eyes. Sirius cared that it only lasted a moment when Snape had been the catalyst that killed their friends. And Remus was there with him, as if they were friends.
“Susan, Sirius.” Remus’s smile became forced. “How are you both enjoying your holiday?”
Enjoying his holiday? Was Sirius enjoying his holiday? He bloody well had been! Sirius had been enjoying spending time with Harry, sharing stories and laughs. Sirius had been enjoying clearing out his bedroom and having dramatic pillow fights before they collapsed in bed to sleep.
Sirius was not enjoying whatever the fuck Remus was doing with Merlin-damned Severus Snape.
“No,” Sirius said, spitting the word over whatever Susan was saying. “I’m not.”
Sirius turned on his heel and began storming away. He was so furious that his hands were trembling and he had to curl them into fists to keep from pulling his wand.
Why the hell was Remus hanging around Snape? And where the fuck was Harry?!
Sirius left the ballroom and pushed past the elf that tried to direct him to the restrooms. Sirius didn’t stop until he left the front door and was smacked in the face with cold air.
Sirius breathed in deeply, willing the frigid temperature to cool the hot anger boiling inside of him. It didn’t make a lick of sense to Sirius and that was bothering him almost more than anything.
Remus Lupin would never have been invited to a Yule Gala, ever. Severus Snape was not friends with Remus Lupin. And yet Remus Lupin AND Severus Snape had walked in a gala together.
Sirius needed someone to make it make sense and he needed Harry. How was Harry always by his side until Sirius was ready to raze the manor to ash and suddenly he was gone?
As if his thoughts summoned him - and maybe they did - Sirius heard whispers coming from around the side of the manor. His curiosity warred with his rage until Sirius found himself creeping around, trying to hear what was being said. No matter how close he got though, Sirius never would have understood the conversation.
Around the corner of the property, surrounded by pompous and ridiculous peacocks, stood Harry and a wizard who Sirius couldn’t see well in the darkness. Harry was easy to see, impossible to mistake, but Sirius was uneasy with the hissing that the older wizard was making.
A peacock, startled by Sirius stepping on a crunchy patch of snow, let out a cry and began strutting away, causing Harry and the wizard to look at him. Even squinting, Sirius could only see a beard and nothing more concrete of the wizard. Harry hissed up at him, Parseltongue, and the wizard hissed back. After a few more exchanges, Harry lifted a hand in a farewell gesture and casually strolled toward Sirius.
“Sorry, got distracted,” Harry said, sounding happy for no reason at all. “Are you alright?”
Sirius leaned to the side so he could glower suspiciously at the wizard who seemed to watch Harry for a long moment before turning on the spot and disapparating. With him gone from Sirius’s sight, Sirius’s main concern went back to Remus.
“Remus is here,” Sirius said baldly. He gave Harry a second to adjust to that before dropping the next dungbomb. “He came with Snape.”
“What?!” Harry’s immediate alarm further calmed Sirius. That was the proper reaction to have.
“Why is Snape here?!” Harry said. “And why on earth would Lupin be with him?”
“Good questions!” Sirius said, nodding vigorously. “If you’re finished having secret conversations with strange wizards - honestly, Harry, do you have no sense of self-preservation? - we can get inside and get some answers.”
At once, Harry became shifty and looked down as he shuffled his feet around.
“Er… Siri, I tried, alright? I tried to do this because it meant a lot to you, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” Harry looked up and his hair had already fallen back in his eyes from the snow that melted on him and he peered at Sirius through it. “Do you have any idea how many of those wizards laughed and cheered for my death? How many of them openly tried to kill my friends? I can’t go back in, Siri. I really think I’m going to explode if I do.”
Sirius should have guessed that Harry would feel that way. Hell, putting it like that had Sirius ready to go back inside and drive a blade through the neck of any person who even mentally wished Harry harm.
It was a mistake to go there. Sirius should have known it would be… even the brief moments with Narcissa would never be what they once were.
“Yeah.” Sirius exhaled shakily, still trembling with anger. “I feel the same way. Should we just call it a night then?”
Harry, bloody unfairly, seemed relieved at Sirius’s agreement.
“I was actually thinking we should get Dobby first,” Harry said. “I had an idea? If you think we can handle a few more minutes inside?”
Harry’s plans either involved too much logic or too little, Sirius adored them. That one seemed to be a good mixture of both… but so had the acromantula.
Regardless, Sirius was all for disrupting a gala.
Sirius and Harry returned inside with Sirius’s arm around Harry’s shoulder, keeping him tucked tight to his side. Sirius could feel the tensing of Harry’s muscles as they walked through the ballroom together then, it was as if Harry was fighting all his urges to not pull his wand out and repay every death eater in the room for their choices.
“Two minutes then we get the elf and go,” Sirius promised in a whisper, his head tilted against Harry’s. “I think we can skip next year.”
“Sounds good to me,” Harry agreed fervently.
They decided the safest place for them to create their chaos would be in the group with the other first years, innocently mingling with their peers… not wishing death on any death eater or mentally cursing out any moronic werewolf bastards.
Draco and Pansy were with Marcus Flint, Alexander Lestrange, Cibelle Yaxley, and Maurice Bulstrode. Sirius and Harry received respectful greetings that Sirius returned, then Harry uncharacteristically struck up a conversation to leave Sirius free to work his magic. If anyone knew Harry as well as Sirius did, they would know that there was a plot happening if Harry was starting conversations with his houseguests. If Neville Longbottom was in that group? Maybe. The likes of Draco, Alexander, and Maurice? No.
Sirius nodded occasionally, pretending to listen and partake in the conversation. All of his true attention was spent tracking the young house-elf that Harry pointed out to him, waiting until the elf got close enough to Lucius to strike…
Lucius had a hand on the Minister’s shoulder, murmuring something to him, in a group with Crouch and Rowle. As soon as Dobby was in their general vicinity, Sirius put all his focus on levitating a gold pocket watch from the Minister’s pocket, slowly moving it toward Dobby. Dobby saw the watch nearing him, though no one else had yet. Dobby looked around anxiously, clearly unsure what was happening, and as soon as he raised his hand… Sirius dropped the watch.
It was only a quiet clink of metal on marble flooring, but it was all it took for the wizards to turn and see the Minister of Magic’s pocket watch on the floor and a house-elf beside it with his hand raised.
“Lucius! By God! Did your elf just try and steal from me?” Fudge cried, summoning his watch and blushing with the humiliation of being pickpocketed by an elf.
Lucius looked around the room quickly, his sneer deepening at the attention on the spectacle.
“Elf!” Lucius snapped. “Explain yourself!”
“Dobby is not doing it, sir!” Dobby said in a squeaky voice that was sure to get on Sirius’s nerves in the future if Harry had his way. “Dobby is not! Is not!”
“You have been caught!” Crouch said, puffing up as if he were a good judge of bloody anything. Yeah, Crouch thought he caught law-breakers all the time, overly-important, blind, piece of shite.
“Dobby is not!” Dobby wailed. His eyes were watering and Sirius had to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to stop him when Harry tried to move toward him. Sirius shook his head, sure that Lucius would temper himself if he noticed Harry Potter watching. Harry didn’t seem happy with his own plan anymore, but he stayed still and only glared warningly at Lucius.
“What an embarrassment,” Augusta Longbottom said loudly. The old biddy never did bother to bite her tongue. Augusta clucked and shook a finger toward Dobby. “I’d have your fingers for a stunt like that, if you were my elf.”
“You kill one and the others learn their lesson,” Travers drawled, ironically.
Lucius couldn’t have been more humiliated. It was delicious. He sought out Narcissa in the crowd and barely lifted an eyebrow at her in question. Narcissa turned down the corner of her lips and sniffed.
“I believe…” Lucius gave Dobby a scorching glare. “This means clothes.”
The tears in Dobby’s eyes spilled over and there were gleeful whispers from the others at getting to witness such a spectacle. Harry was coiled tightly, ready to bolt as soon as the elf was released.
Lucius made a dramatic show of pulling his handkerchief from his robe pocket and stepping purposefully toward Dobby before dropping it on the elf’s head. It was only Lucius trying to save face, anyone could see he was humiliated and knew that his thieving elf would be talked about for quite some time.
Sirius saw Remus in the crowd, his face soft and concerned. Snape was beside him, sipping a drink without a bloody concern. Sirius looked away quickly, more than ready to leave.
“Leave my home immediately,” Lucius hissed at Dobby. “Do not ever let me catch you on my property again.”
Dobby bowed his head and clutched the handkerchief while his stifled cries echoed in the room. The other elves were as embarrassed as Lucius, all of them pointedly clearing a path as Dobby began slowly leaving the room.
“Let’s go,” Harry said under the sound of renewed gossip and Lucius’s apologies to the Minister filling the room. “Quickly, c’mon.”
Sirius bid a hasty farewell to the others and rolled his eyes when the Yaxley twit, Cibelle, wished Harry a merry Yule. Harry didn’t even know the girl, Sirius would bet that he could ask Harry who he had just been talking to and Harry wouldn’t have a clue.
They managed to leave the manor quickly, Sirius only paused for a moment to vaguely respond to Narcissa’s invite for dinner over the summer. She seemed disappointed to see him leave, which was heartening, but there were fires of gossip to extinguish more important than connecting with mysterious cousins.
The elf had just exited the manor doors when Harry called out to it. Dobby turned and Sirius could see the spark of recognition in his eyes, just barely hidden beneath unhappiness and shame
“You is Mister Harry Potter,” Dobby sniffled. He had the handkerchief in one hand and was harshly twisting one of his ears with his other hand. He blinked tearfully at Harry. “Dobby is wishing that such a great hero is not seeing Dobby be so shamed. Dobby is no thief, Dobby is swearing.”
“I know you’re not,” Harry said quickly, kindly pushing Dobby outside so that they could close the door behind them. Harry bent down some, putting his face level with Dobby’s, and smiled nicely. “In fact, my friend and I are looking for a house-elf and I think you’d be perfect.”
It took the elf thirty whole seconds to process what Harry said before it let out a squeak of joy and promptly fell over in a dead faint.
“I think that’s a yes,” Sirius chuckled. He bent down to grab one of Dobby’s shoulders while Harry bent to grab the other.
“He’ll want paid,” Harry said, still grinning and apparently as pleased as could be that they accomplished one of their goals for the evening. “Oh, and socks. We have to buy him socks.”
If it made Harry happy, Sirius would give Dobby his own bedroom and wardrobe. Which, Sirius quickly found out, was the precise thing to say to Harry.
Harry’s eyes lit up and while Sirius had seen dozens of familiar faces, feigned his way through the evening as the pureblooded heir he had once been trained to be, it was Harry who was the most genuine person in his life. It was Harry who mattered - not any of the others they left behind as Sirius and Harry carried the unconscious house-elf back home together.