The mage

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Hogwarts ~~ Great Hall ~~ Morning of November 1st 1981

After a restless night haunted by nightmares, Sirius Black woke up with his face marked by fatigue and the shadow of recent pain caused by the loss of James and Lily. Fortunately, he was greeted by a smiling Harry, playing in his cot, joyfully babbling with an imaginary friend, as children his age often do.

Having cast a time spell — Tempus — Sirius dispelled the transformation on his clothes and took Harry into his arms. Amused, he noticed a note had been carefully affixed to the door with a sticking charm, inviting him to breakfast in the Great Hall.

Now in the vast hall, holding an unusually joyful Harry (which surprised Sirius, as the child had not yet called for his parents), he felt a heavy silence following his entrance. All eyes from the students and professors were fixed on them, or rather on his godson.

His keen eyes immediately spotted the reason for this attention: a Gryffindor student was watching them while holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, its front page clearly visible. Swallowing with difficulty, Sirius approached the High Table, noting the presence of many professors along the way.

He knew almost all of them, except for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, a position reputed to be cursed, preventing anyone from holding it for more than a year. As he moved forward, the faces of the professors became clearer, while his footsteps echoed on the floor, with the students and teachers remaining motionless. At least, in appearance, as Albus Dumbledore continued to eat, seemingly picking at his fried eggs with disinterest.

As Sirius Black made his way to the High Table, his gaze lingered on the sorrowful expressions of Minerva McGonagall, Horace Slughorn, and Filius Flitwick. He took a moment to carefully observe the professors gathered around the table:

Rolanda Hooch, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee, stood out with her short, grey hair and piercing yellow eyes, reminiscent of a hawk's. A former Quidditch champion, she had led the Holyhead Harpies for a decade.

Pomona Sprout, with a chubby physique and short stature, had hair turning grey. She served as the Head of the Herbology Department, an eminent teacher in this field, and the Head of Hufflepuff House.

Silvanus Kettleburn, of a certain age, bore the marks of numerous injuries and prostheses, inevitably evoking Alastor Moody. He was the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

Sybill Trelawney, recognizable by her large round glasses, blonde curls, and hippie attire, taught Divination. Sirius held her responsible for the prophecy that had so disrupted their lives.

Quirinus Quirrell, almost the same age as Sirius, with short blond hair and expressive grey-green eyes, now taught Muggle Studies. Despite their different houses at Hogwarts, Sirius considered him a friend.

Bathsheda Babbling, a mature witch with dark brown hair neatly smoothed and hazel eyes, was the professor of Study of Ancient Runes.

Septima Vector, a young witch with long black hair and deep black eyes, had joined Hogwarts as an Arithmancy professor when Sirius was in his seventh year.

Aurora Sinistra, with ebony skin and chocolate-coloured eyes, wore her hair in a bun under a wide pointed hat and had started at the same time as Septima as the Astronomy professor.

Amit Thakkar, of advanced age, even older than Dumbledore, with brown hair and lively hazelnut eyes, headed the Astronomy Department and taught there.

Sophronia Franklin, as old as Amit, was distinguished by her grey hair pulled back and her brown eyes behind thick glasses. She taught Ancient Studies.

Reflecting on the number of professors present, Sirius Black realized the extent of the war's repercussions on Hogwarts. When his parents were admitted to Hogwarts, each major subject had two teachers, and this tradition dated back to previous generations of his family, where the faculty was even more numerous. Moreover, the school offered a multitude of varied activities. Although some, such as Alchemy, Arts, Ghoul Studies, Magical Theory, Muggle Art, and Music, continued, their teaching had become rarefied, the war having drastically reduced the number of teachers.

As he skirted the table on the left, Sirius caught the hateful gaze of Severus Snape, whom he loathed just as much. He had learned that Snape, whom he derogatorily called "greasy bastard" or "Snivellus," was now teaching Potions. With a disdainful sniff characteristic of the Blacks, Sirius chose to ignore him and sat down between Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore, where a high chair for Harry appeared next to him, between him and Minerva.

Hardly had Sirius settled Harry into the high chair, under Minerva's benevolent gaze, and taken his seat himself, when a tumultuous buzz took over the Great Hall. A chaos of conversations, shouts, and exclamations erupted, under the astonished gaze of the professors and Argus Filch, the school caretaker, who had just appeared in the doorway, his faithful cat Mrs. Norris at his feet.

The austere thirty-something, known for his sullenness, surprised the assembly by shouting in a loud voice, brandishing the newspaper he had retrieved from his office:

"Silence, you ungrateful brats! This isn't a henhouse, so shut your traps and show some respect!"

The students fell silent, surprised by the caretaker's unexpected reaction. For his part, Albus Dumbledore observed Argus Filch, who had been employed by the establishment since 1968, with deep understanding. Filch was the last heir of an ancient lineage of wizards, experts in defensive magic and enchantments. When his parents discovered he was a Squib at the age of eleven, they tragically attempted to eliminate him permanently.

Fortunately, living in Godric's Hollow, Albus heard the desperate cries of young Argus, subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, and intervened, leading to the arrest of Filch's parents and their life imprisonment in Azkaban. Argus was then sent to a Muggle school, with the expenses covered by Dumbledore.

However, Filch never managed to adapt to the Muggle world. At seventeen, he sought employment in the magical world, coinciding with the death of the Hogwarts caretaker. Dumbledore then offered him the position, which he accepted. Squibs, having few options in a world dominated by magic, found in Filch an example of success despite obstacles.

Moreover, Filch was an avid advocate of the Free Squib Movement, pleading for better acceptance of Squibs, recognition of their rights, and their integration through specialized schools. His position as the caretaker of Hogwarts made him an emblematic figure of the movement, being the first Squib to hold such a prestigious post.

The war against the Death Eaters, who hunted and killed Squibs, considered unworthy of life, particularly affected Filch. For him, the fall of Voldemort symbolized a renewal, the end of a long nightmare. Dumbledore, understanding the weight of these events on Filch, thus looked at him with empathy and respect.

The headmaster of the school stood up, casting a glance at Sirius, still shaken by the events as well as the students' reaction, and Harry, who was eating infant cereal in a small bowl of magically appeared milk in a very chaotic manner, to speak.

"I thank you, Mr. Filch, for your intervention," Dumbledore smiled, looking at the tables. "I understand your reaction to Miss Skeeter's article, and I forgive your behaviour, this time only. However, I would ask you to please remain calm in the future, for I remind you that Voldemort's defeat, although a source of joy for many, is primarily the result of a tragic event."

"Sir, is what's written true?" asked a Ravenclaw student, standing up. "Has You-Know-Who really been defeated?"

"Indeed, Miss Parson, Voldemort was defeated last night," Dumbledore confirmed. "For once, I can attest to the accuracy of this article. A press conference will be given by our Minister of Magic later in the day, and will be broadcast live on the Wizarding Wireless Network, where you can get more information."

"So, is the war over?" asked a timid Hufflepuff student, whom Dumbledore recognized as Muggle-born.

"Unfortunately, the war is not quite over," Dumbledore replied. "Although Voldemort has been defeated, his followers are still at large. But rest assured, they will soon be captured by justice. Without their leader, the Death Eaters are disoriented, and Voldemort's defeat marks the beginning of the end of this dark period."

"But how was he defeated?" asked a Gryffindor student, intrigued.

"As I said, all the details will be explained during the Minister's announcement," Dumbledore interrupted. "For now, I encourage you to continue your breakfast, and for those who have already finished, I'm sure you'll find productive ways to enjoy this beautiful day."

The old wizard sat down, thus concluding the conversation as the murmurs resumed among the students, this time at a more moderate sound level.

"Thank you, professor, I wouldn't have known what to do," admitted Sirius, grateful.

"Think nothing of it, my boy," Albus smiled, offering him a lemon drop. "The house-elves provide me with these every day, knowing they are my favourite."

Sirius accepted the candy with a smile, appreciating the perfectly balanced taste between sour and sweet, a taste he had always associated with Dumbledore, often seeing him with a small bag filled with these treats.

"How are you, Sirius?" inquired Minerva, seated to his left. "I know this night has been trying, but know that I will always be there for Harry and you."

"It's getting a bit better, just taking time to accept reality. Admitting that James and Lily won't come back is hard," replied Sirius, his voice laden with pain. "I wonder if Harry understands what's happening, he's so young."

"It's unlikely he understands, at his age, our attention is so easily diverted," conceded Minerva McGonagall. "You will, in any case, be an excellent father figure for him."

Sirius, a shy smile on his lips, cast a grateful look at his former professor. He turned his attention back to Harry, who was amusing himself by scattering milk around his bowl. The child, feeling his gaze, looked up, showing his bright green irises, and offered Sirius a radiant smile.

That's when Minnie, the cat, jumped from the table to land near Harry's high chair, who began to pet the animal while babbling joyfully the beast's name.

"Minnie!"

The cat purred contentedly while Sirius paled slightly upon hearing Harry pronounce the name, which was also Minerva McGonagall's nickname. She pinched her lips, her gaze suddenly darkening, promising a thousand torments.

"It was James who chose the name, not me!" Sirius hurriedly defended, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"If I ever learn that's not the case..." threatened Minerva, leaving her threat hanging.

Sirius laughed nervously, nodding quickly as the professors around them smiled at this exchange, bringing a touch of lightness to their gathering. The rest of the meal went without further incidents or events, except perhaps the students constantly looking at Harry with eyes full of admiration.

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Hogwarts ~~ Staffroom ~~ Morning of November 1st 1981

An hour later, as the sun continued to climb in the firmament, the teachers' lounge, a sanctuary of wisdom and tradition, hosted an unusual gathering. Sirius Black, the wandering star of the wizarding world, and Harry, his godson, had joined the professors in this room that resembled a living relic. The walls, panelled in dark wood, vibrated with ancient stories, and the mismatched chairs and armchairs, silent witnesses of countless deliberations, offered quaint comfort.

A sturdy wardrobe watched over the professors' robes, symbols of their eminent position. The two stone gargoyles, eternal guardians of the door, whispered among themselves, nostalgically evoking students long gone, their raspy voices filled with memories.

In this den of rest, each professor, combining respect and emotion, had approached Sirius to offer condolences, reflecting a mix of complex feelings. Even Severus Snape, whose features betrayed a manifest effort, had spoken words of comfort to Sirius, his long-time enemy, in a gesture of forced civility.

Sirius, the worthy heir of the noble House of Black, held Harry tightly against him, the young boy harbouring a soothed cat on the lower half of his body. They were about to head to the headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore at their side, to discuss Sirius's fate, when Horace Slughorn, the potions master, intervened.

"Albus, forgive me for interrupting, but I have made my decision," said Horace Slughorn, halting the imminent departure of Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black towards the headmaster's office.

"Your decision, Horace?" inquired Dumbledore, his eyes filled with benevolent curiosity.

"Yes, with the war almost at an end, I have decided to retire," announced Horace, his smile tinged with bittersweet melancholy. "The loss of Lily, a student so dear to my heart, made me realize it was time for me to savour the years I have left."

"Come now, Horace, you have many good years ahead of you!" exclaimed Dumbledore, his smile trying to be comforting. "After all, you're only seventy-one."

Listening to this exchange, Sirius pondered the extraordinary longevity of wizards, in contrast to the brevity of Muggle lives. He remembered Barry Wee Willie Winkle, a wizard born in 1236 who, at the age of 745, seemed almost younger than Dumbledore when they met at a Ministry event.

"I know, Albus, but I feel tired," replied Slughorn, a genuine weariness in his voice. "I need rest. And besides, I wish to visit my former students, see what they have become. After half a century dedicated to teaching, don't I deserve a bit of peace?"

"I understand, my old friend," replied Dumbledore, a veil of melancholy darkening his smile. "But who will take your place as head of the potions class?"

"Young Severus, of course!" suggested Slughorn, his gaze resting on Severus Snape, who, until then, had observed the scene in thoughtful silence.

As Horace Slughorn suggested Severus Snape become the new Potions Master of Hogwarts, a shiver of revolt ran through Sirius Black. The very idea that someone he despised so much, Snivellus, could teach Harry in a decade, made his blood boil with indignation. His face turned a glowing red, a reflection of the emotional storm triggered by the tumultuous events of the past few hours.

"Snape? How so, Snape?" blurted Sirius, his voice vibrating with anger startling those present. "Are we talking about the one who loathes every living soul and whose face seems allergic to smiling? The one who seems to forget the use of a shower, as evidenced by his greasy hair..."

"I certainly didn't expect you to welcome my appointment, Black," retorted Severus Snape with contempt, cutting off Sirius. "It's clear your limited mind can't grasp the extent of my talent, but who else if not me, would be more qualified?"

"You?!" spat Sirius, as Harry began to fidget in his arms, a sign of his discomfort. "Anyone would be better than you! A Squib, even a hag, would make a better potions master than you!"

"How dare you, you...!" began Severus, but Sirius didn't let him finish.

"I categorically refuse to have Harry enrolled at Hogwarts if this wretch is teaching potions! He would turn his existence into a living hell!"

"Come now, Sirius," Dumbledore tried to calm the situation, "Severus will surely be exemplary and professional in his duties."

"And I categorically refuse his presence at their funeral!" Sirius raged even more. "He is not worthy to mourn them!"

"Pfah!" spat Severus in echo. "All the better, it will spare me the sight of that insufferable Potter's corpse! Seeing him once was already too much, and it would suit me perfectly if his spawn never learns here!"

These words cast a chilling silence over the assembly, causing gasps of astonishment among some professors and widening the eyes of Minerva McGonagall, Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick, and Albus Dumbledore.

As for Sirius, he was shaking with rage. Fortunately, Minerva McGonagall, seeing the terror in Harry's eyes, quickly took the child in her arms to protect him from this escalation of violence. Minnie, the cat, had also stood up on the table, her gaze filled with fury directed at Severus Snape, although no one paid attention to her reaction.

"Once was enough for you? What do you mean by that? When did you... No...", growled Sirius, horror overwhelming him as he realized. "You were there! You despicable traitor!"

Carried away by uncontrollable rage, Sirius lunged at Severus and delivered a punch to his face, breaking his nose with brutal force, further worsening the already uninviting appearance of the potions master. The professors, taken aback, immediately intervened to restrain Sirius, while Severus, hand on his bloodied nose, moaned in pain.

"Dumbledore, intervene!" pleaded Severus, his pleading gaze turned towards his headmaster. "He's completely mad, like the rest of his cursed family."

"My boy," Dumbledore replied in a dark and threatening voice. "Were you there that night?"

"I...", hesitated Severus.

"Severus?" Dumbledore pressed, his voice becoming more insistent.

"Yes!" finally confessed the wizard. "I had followed him at a distance!"

"And you did nothing? You coward! You Death Eater vermin!" yelled Sirius, held back by Hagrid and Professor Sprout.

"I wasn't going to risk my life for Potter!" spat Severus, hatred oozing from every syllable. "He had promised she would be spared!"

In the teachers' lounge, plunged into an atmosphere of tension and revelation, Albus Dumbledore's face turned deathly pale the moment he grasped the significance of Severus Snape's words, mentioning "she", an undeniable reference to Lily Potter. A veil of incomprehension and remorse seemed to fall over him, wondering how he could have missed such a crucial detail. With closed eyes, he weighed his options, torn by a heartrending dilemma. Severus represented an invaluable spy within enemy ranks, especially now that it was known Voldemort was not entirely defeated. However, the fact that Severus had not disclosed the date of the attack, information he possessed, was a betrayal that had cost lives.

"Severus, how could you?" Dumbledore said in an icy voice, betraying his deep disappointment. "You have betrayed us again..."

"Again?" interjected Minerva, her curiosity piqued despite the urgency of the situation.

"Professor, I beg you..." tried Severus, his face marked by palpable fear.

"Severus is the one who divulged the prophecy to Tom, after spying on me at Hog's Head," revealed Dumbledore, his eyes fixed on Severus, making him understand that he was no longer in a position to protect him.

"What?" Sirius's indignation exploded, while Minerva stifled a cry of astonishment.

"You had promised me that..." began Severus, betrayal readable in his gaze.

"I promised you my help on the condition that you do everything in your power to protect the Potters," Dumbledore retorted. "Filius, go fetch Barty Crouch and inform him that we are holding a criminal at Hogwarts."

Filius Flitwick, despite his small stature, left the room with a determination that spoke of his contained anger. Severus's betrayal had awakened in him a desire for justice that went well beyond his usual peaceful nature.

Severus, realizing his precarious position, attempted to grab his wand, but was interrupted by an unexpected attack. Minnie, the hitherto silent cat, leaped at him with fierce agility, slashing his hand with her sharp claws before seizing his wand and moving away, leaving Severus screaming in pain.

A stunned silence fell, even Sirius calming down in the face of the cat's audacity. The room remained frozen, the professors pointing their wands at Severus, until Bartemius Crouch arrived, accompanied by three Aurors, led by Filius.

Given the gravity of the accusations, Bartemius Crouch decided to arrest Severus Snape to take him to the Ministry's cells, awaiting a thorough interrogation and future trial. The professors remained speechless as Horace watched his most talented student leave, understanding that he was responsible for the one he considered as his daughter. At that precise moment, he decided to stay at Hogwarts, at least until Harry Potter's arrival.

For their part, Albus and Minerva managed to calm Sirius Black, promising that justice would be done. After a few moments, Sirius, Harry, Minerva, and Albus, accompanied by Minnie, resumed their way to the headmaster's office.

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Hogwarts ~~ Headmaster's Office ~~ Afternoon of November 1st 1981

Sirius took a few moments to absorb the gravity of the situation, aided by Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. It was in the reassuring tranquillity of the teachers' lounge, over a cup of steaming tea, that they deliberated on the crucial question: where would Harry and he live? Sirius quickly dismissed the idea of returning to his flat, unsuitable for a child and too exposed. The Potter's home in Godric's Hollow was, for obvious reasons, out of the question, haunted as it was by tragic memories and marked by crime.

They considered the Potter Manor for a while, but that place, having become untraceable since the disappearance of Fleamont Potter, remained out of reach, with James never having taken over. Harry would have access to it when he was older, but that didn't solve their immediate problem.

As they racked their brains, a noise drew their attention to the window. A Eurasian eagle-owl, its plumage as dark as the night, stared at them with piercing eyes, a letter sealed with the Black family's seal hanging from its leg. Albus let the bird in with an elegant flick of his wand.

"Who could have sent this letter?" wondered Minerva, intrigued.

The question was pertinent, Albus having made arrangements for all mail intended for Sirius and Harry to be redirected upon their arrival at Hogwarts.

"A letter from my grandfather," revealed Sirius, a slight tremor in his voice as he took the missive.

The owl flew away, casting a disdainful look at Fumsec, the school's owl, before disappearing into the night sky. Albus and Minerva nodded, understanding that a letter from a family head could bypass the usual magical barriers.

Sirius, gathering his courage, decided to share the contents of the letter with his companions.

"My dear Sirius,

I know times are hard and the recent trials must have shaken you deeply. Despite our differences and the distance that has marked these last years, know that the blood of our family still flows in your veins, and that means more than anything to me.

I have learned of the tragic loss of James Potter and his wife, as well as your role as godfather to young Harry. I cannot imagine the weight of this responsibility, but I want to offer you my help.

I know exactly what you must be thinking as you read this letter, that the Blacks have chosen Voldemort, that vile upstart, but that is not the case. Your parents and Bellatrix are isolated cases in our family, and I can assure you that their behaviour will not go unpunished. I had expressly ordered them to remain neutral.

Black Castle, though you have rarely visited, is open to you. Few fortresses are as protected as ours, and it will become a refuge for you and your godson. I invite you to come tomorrow morning at the first hour for a family meeting, during which I will rectify my mistakes and steer the family back on the right path. Bring your godson with you.

I understand if you hesitate to accept this offer, but know that it is made with the sincerity and love of a grandfather for his grandson. I hope that within these walls you will find a home, and not the shadows of the past.

With all my affection,

Arcturus III Black,
Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Toujours Pur."

A contemplative silence settled in the room, each weighing the implications of this unexpected offer. Sirius held the letter, a glimmer of hope mixed with uncertainty in his eyes, while Minerva and Albus exchanged looks of relief and surprise. The possibility of a new beginning for Sirius and Harry had just opened up, and Sirius intended to attend this meeting in the hope of seeing justice done.