In which we discuss greatness and goodness
Sirius settled himself at his desk in the Lord’s Study and enabled the silencing ward to block out the painfully loud shouting from Molly as she scolded her twin sons. Personally, Sirius thought a spell that flipped all the furniture to hang from was absolutely hilarious to see in person. Sirius was also pretty sure the twins had only done it on request of their younger brother, as he and Hermione had snuck out pretty quickly after Ron had clearly conspired something with one of the boys. Considering Sirius also took it as an opportunity to slip away while Molly was occupied, he couldn’t fault the younger set for their escape methods.
As Sirius thought his getaway went unnoticed, he was surprised at the knock on the study door just a few minutes after he began responding to Nathaniel's latest missive.
“Come in,” he called while tapping another rune mark carved into the desk to lower the locking ward and allow entry.
As the door swung open, the silencing spell was partially dropped, allowing Molly’s voice to again be heard. She didn’t show any signs of slowing down, but Sirius’s attention was quickly grabbed by Alastor Moody, entering the office and closing the door again behind him, cutting off Molly’s diatribe abruptly.
“Mind if we have a chat, Black?” As Moody was already thumping his way towards one of the chairs across the desk, Sirius figured it was more of a rhetorical question, still, he answered, “Of course. Have a seat.”
As they both sat back in their chairs, Sirius glanced up at the various portraits on the wall behind Moody. Most were asleep or looked disinterested in the conversation about to take place, but Sirius noted his father and grandfather were focused intently on Sirius and Moody, obviously curious as to what the former Auror wanted with Sirius.
“Is your shadow still here, or did she have to report to work?” Sirius asked, wondering where Tonks was if Moody was up here. He had thought they’d be leaving together after breakfast.
“Albus asked her to meet him in Hogsmeade. She’s to be focusing on recruiting more of the younger set – muggle-borns and half-bloods who graduated in the last five years or so. Albus wanted to meet to discuss the specifics of that.” Moody replied and then added nonchalantly, “He’ll also be asking her to report back on your movements, of course.”
Sirius looked at the other man sharply before simply replying, ‘Oh?” Sirius knew Tonks when she was much younger, before Azkaban – although back then, she was just Dora – but he didn’t know the grown-up version of her well enough to be sure of her trustworthiness.
“Oh yes, Albus is assuming family loyalty will mean you’ll allow her closer than other members of the Order. Close enough to confide in about your plans for the future.”
“I suppose I should thank you for the heads up, then? I’ll now know to be cautious in what I share with my young cousin.”
“Nonsense,” Moody replied with a smug grin, “The same loyalty that would allow you to feel comfortable sharing with her is the same loyalty that will make her refuse Dumbledore’s request. Or at least ignore it, if not outright refuse it to his face. Her mum raised her to be loyal to family above all others. Didn’t matter that at the time, the family was just the girl and her parents. She considers you family now, so you’ve got an ally in her until the day she dies.”
That’s a Black trait, Sirius thinks to himself.
Once upon a time, a Black could count on another Black for anything – ranging from simply a place to sleep for the night to outright murder.
Oh, they didn’t always get along. The infamous feuds with other houses that had contributed to the Black family’s reputation were nothing compared to the internal squabbling and disagreements detailed in the family records. But if you were a family member in need, no other Black would turn you away. Despite the internal disputes and fights, when it came down to it – and to the outside world – the Black family was united as one. It was really only when the family got too distracted with the idea of blood purity, and then Voldemort came along to tear the family apart, was that tradition of loyalty lost from the House of Black.
Sirius tuned back into what Moody was saying before he allowed himself to wander too much into thoughts of the Black Family of a century ago.
“Besides, the lass is too much of a Hufflepuff for anything so underhanded – she values fair play too much. In her eyes, you’re fighting on the same side, so she won’t go telling tales about you to others. Once you add in the family relations, she’ll cheerfully tell Albus the only thing you tell her is your tea preferences, even if you hand over a ten-step plan for world domination.”
Sirius had to laugh a bit at the image of pink-haired Tonks reviewing this theoretical plan for taking over the world and then cheerfully saying something like Wotcher, let’s get to work, cousin, lot’s to do! or something equally optimistic and nauseatingly Hufflepuff in nature.
“It’s a relief to hear Tonks isn’t likely to report back to Albus whatever I say to her. But while I appreciate the loyalty you say she’ll show me, I think you can understand I’ll still be a bit cautious around her until she’s earned my trust as well,” Sirius responded.
“That’s understandable, Black. Since we’ve started this conversation so well, let’s continue to speak bluntly. Despite what Albus has said, I think the odds are in your favor when it comes to this court case. There’s little evidence pointing to your guilt, and what there is, is all circumstantial. A good lawyer will be able to rip that to shreds, and if I know anything about the Blacks, I know they’ve got the vaults to support hiring a damned good lawyer. I think you’ll likely win your defamation case, and then any criminal cases against you will be dropped in short order afterward. If I had to guess, I’d say you’ll be a free man by the end of summer.”
Despite his surprise at Moody’s candor (and relief that someone who had been working in the Ministry for so long also thought Sirius had a good chance of getting off), Sirius didn’t let any of it show on his face. “Well, I’m glad someone with a more objective viewpoint thinks I’ll likely get my name cleared. But if we’re speaking candidly, do you mind my asking why you’re sharing this with me? I thought the party line for the Order was that I was acting foolishly and my dangerous decisions would land me back in Azkaban and the Order in hot water.”
“Pah! That’s Albus’s thinking, and most of the others have fallen right in line, as they’re wont to do.” Moody said rather derisively. “This new generation doesn’t think for themselves enough. That’s how we get these bloody dark lords who con the weak-willed into following them.”
“No, I’m quite confident you’ll get your name cleared by the end of this mess. My question for you, lad, is what do you plan to do next?” Moody’s magical eye, which had up until this point been rolled away from him – Probably staring down Orion’s portrait if the rumors about their public disagreements had any truth to them – spun around, and now both eyes watched with a distinctly considering expression on Moody’s face.
Sirius hesitated, not wanting to say the truthful answer of “get Harry away from the muggles” Moody didn't seem to be here on Dumbledore's orders, but he was still going to hold that as close to the chest as he could, even if the rest of them assumed that's what Sirius would be aiming for eventually, “Suppose I haven’t thought of it. I’ve mostly been focused on getting declared innocent, and then I’ll think about the next steps.”
Moody’s eyes narrowed before he gave a snort of laughter and said mockingly, “Aye, getting your name cleared wasn’t just step one in a larger plan, and I’m Merlin himself.” Rather than being annoyed at seeing through Sirius’s deception, Moody’s expression seemed pleased, almost proud. “It’s alright, lad, I don’t expect you to trust me yet. Honestly, I think I’d be a bit disappointed if you blurted out everything. I remember you being one of the better fighters before your little jaunt in Azkaban, and I’d hate it if you lost all sense now.”
Sirius thought he should maybe be offended at anyone calling his time in the hell that was Azkaban “little” or a “jaunt,” but he reminded himself this was Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody himself. The man could probably have his entire arm lopped off, and he’d refer to it as a “slight inconvenience” before going about his merry way.
Before Sirius could respond, Moody continued, “I imagine you’ll be aiming to get the Potter boy here once you’re free. Albus won’t like it, but I’m sure you’re aware. Best watch out for that. He’ll have something up his sleeve to convince you the boy should be left where he is. Not sure how much it matters in the long run; by the time your case is all wrapped up, there’ll only be a month or so left before the young’uns all head back to school. Still, he’ll be determined, if only to prove a point.”
Sirius refrained from responding, not willing to continue to lie if Moody was able to read him so easily but extremely confused as to why Moody was giving him advice on how Dumbledore would likely respond. None of it was particularly new information to Sirius, he had already figured that Albus would fight tooth and nail to keep Harry with the Dursleys, but he still wasn’t sure why one of Dumbledore’s closest allies was apparently helping someone circumvent the plans Dumbledore had made.
Moody’s magical eye swiveled away towards what Sirius thought was the front door before coming back to rest on Sirius.
“The headmaster’s having a spot of trouble filling the Defense Against the Dark Arts post again. The few people he’s found willing aren’t getting approved by the Board of Governors.” Sirius blinked twice at the abrupt change of topic. “Oh?” He replied, “I suppose that’s not surprising, with all the bad luck in recent years, I’d guess most of the qualified people aren’t too keen to take it on.”
“Aye, and the Ministry ain’t too fussed to approve anything Albus sends in right now. Ministry and the Board of Governors are starting to get up in arms about it since the staff list was supposed to have been finalized already. Fudge is starting to rumble about the Ministry needing to step in if Albus can’t manage the school well enough. We think they might try and plant someone in the school, make things more difficult for everyone under the guise of supplying a professor.”
Sirius leaned forward and started to fiddle with the quill on his desk as he considered what Moody had shared. The Ministry, mostly by way of the Prophet, had made it clear over the last few weeks that they were firmly opposed to Harry’s statements that Voldemort had returned. A ministry plant in Hogwarts wouldn’t be friendly to his godson.
For a moment, he wondered if Moody was hinting that Sirius should try and take up the DADA job, but Sirius thought Dumbledore would rather swallow his own tongue than hire Sirius after his blatant disregard for Dumbledore’s orders the last month.
“Is there a precedent for the Ministry filling the post?”
“Not that we can find, but one of our contacts in the Minister’s office said they’re working on something that would give them the legal authority to do so. Some ‘high-inquisitor’ nonsense.” Moody seemed disgusted at the idea of the Ministry encroaching on Hogwarts autonomy.
“Hogwarts students are going to need better training than what they’ve been getting for the last few years, and I doubt anyone from the Ministry will give them that. If things go the way we’re all expecting, the peacetime everyone has been enjoying will come to a rapid end. None of the kids coming out of Hogwarts the last few years are at all prepared for war.” When Sirius had been in school, the first war had been a long time coming – they had been able to see the signs well in advance. And while they still suffered the yearly turnover in the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, the teachers had been much more qualified and had targeted their teaching to what students would need to know once they left school and were faced with a war. Even classes such as Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes had focused on offensive and defensive magic and less on magical theory or mundane spells for everyday use. Based on what Harry had shared about his classes, Sirius thought the curriculum had shifted once the Professors got comfortable after the war.
“Aye,” Moody replied, “That’s why I’m thinking about telling Albus I’d take the job.” Moody seemed amused at Sirius’s rapid blinks in response to his statement.
“I thought you only agreed to one year when you took it up last year?”
“Aye, but I never did get around to teaching, did I? Contract is technically unfulfilled. Albus is willing to leave it as is and consider the conditions met to free me from the obligation, seeing as someone who was calling themselves Alastor Moody did, in fact, teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for most of the school year. He said I didn’t need to return to the school after the ‘traumatic experience’ I had, and he assured me he’d have plenty of Order business to keep me occupied. But I got to thinking the last week or so ‘bout whom the Ministry would likely send up there if it came down to it, and I don’t like any of the possibilities, thought I might go back to Albus and say I’ll take the job again. Seeing as there’s a Gringotts’s verified contract that we can argue is unfulfilled, the Ministry won’t be able to do squat to keep me from the job.”
“Well, that’d certainly solve one of Dumbledore’s problems.” Sirius hesitated here, not wanting to offend the other man but curious as to how his recovery was going, giving Moody a quick up-and-down; it was clear the man was still underweight and pale from his months of captivity. “Are you sure you’d be...ready for something like that? You did have quite the ordeal that only ended a few weeks ago.”
Moody stiffened and gave Sirius a fierce glare, “I could teach bloody Defense Against the Dark Arts to those kiddies even if I were blind and half dead. Locking me in a trunk for ten months isn’t enough to keep me down, and you’d best remember that, boyo.”
Sirius couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh at Moody’s fierce assertion.
“Well, all right then, you’re completely capable of teaching DADA…why are you talking to me about it?”
“I’ve heard an awful lot from Albus about that boy of yours. Heard he’s right quick with a wand and has already shown some skill in Defensive magics. Figured if I was back teaching for the year, I could spend some time one-on-one with him, train him up a bit.”
“Really?” Sirius couldn’t help but ask doubtfully, “Last I heard, Dumbledore was still insisting Harry didn’t need any extra training and should enjoy his time as a child.’ Why are you willing to do the opposite?” Sirius was glad to bring the conversation back to Moody’s apparent break with Dumbledore; he wanted to understand where the other man was coming from before he could believe any of this was offered out of the good of Moody’s heart.
Shriveled up, blackened thing that it must be.
“Because every indication is that You Know Who will be coming for the lad at some point in the future. I don’t think he’ll give up until he kills the boy or dies himself. So at best, I want to give Potter as much a chance at defeating his opponents in a battle as possible, so when You Know Who inevitably comes for him, perhaps he can do us all a favor again and destroy the bastard. At worst, I teach him enough that he can defend himself until reinforcements can come in, and he lives another day.”
“That’s a reason to train Harry, but it still doesn’t explain why you’re willing to go against Albus Dumbledore.” Sirius pushed the issue, wanting to know why Moody was defying orders.
Moody glanced around the room, his eye eventually pausing on a framed photo of James and Sirius laughing in their dorm room at Hogwarts that Sirius had set on one of the bookshelves near his desk, within easy sight whenever Sirius sat down to work.
Keeping his eye on the photograph for a moment longer before shifting his gaze back to Sirius, Moody finally answered, “Albus is a great man. Truly brilliant, the theories and ideas his mind comes up with are world-changing. But he’s so focused on the bigger picture, the larger game at play, that he forgets about us smaller folk.”
Moody smiled ruefully and said, “The man has called me a ‘dear friend’ for several decades now but had an imposter at his table eating every meal with him, sat across from him in staff meetings, had shared tea in his office, all with someone pretending to be me, and Albus never noticed. And the imposter wasn’t even someone well trained and who had the opportunity to study me over a great length of time. It was a man who spent years in Azkaban and then the next decade under the imperius curse for every waking moment.”
“Albus is so focused on his larger vision that he doesn’t pay enough attention to the small things. It’s how he didn’t realize Crouch was impersonating me for ten months, how he didn’t know you never received a trial. And I’m sure countless other little injustices that are quiet enough to make little to no impact on the wider world, and so he never notices them. Albus is a great man, and he concerns himself with great things. The well-being of us common folk aren’t great, so we’ll have to concern ourselves with that.”
The room was quiet after Moody’s little speech. Sirius saw the portraits, most of which were now paying attention, shuffling around in their painted spaces. He wondered how many of them were “great men” in their lifetimes and if they had spent any more attention to the lives of those around them than Albus Dumbledore did.
“I’ll talk to Harry…next time I see him, of course, and explain that you’ll be giving him additional training when school starts up again. He’ll know to expect you to reach out. Thank you, he is talented at defense, but having individual training will be good for him.”
Moody, apparently deciding the conversation was finished, nodded once and then heaved himself up from his chair and turned towards the door. Before he exited, Sirius could have sworn Moody, and his father’s portrait exchanged subtle but respectful nods to each other.
Sitting back in his chair, Sirius pondered everything Moody had said to him. He was glad Harry would be getting some additional training; as much as he wanted Harry to stay the hell away from any fighting, extra defense knowledge couldn’t hurt.
He supposed that if a miracle happened and old Voldie choked on his dinner before any of them had to try and take him down, then at least Harry would get an O on his Defense OWL at the end of the year.
* *
*
Cornelius Fudge tossed his dapper bowler hat onto his glossy desk and slumped into his chair. His meetings with his legal department this morning had…not gone well.
In addition to hearing from his solicitors that Black’s case was progressing rapidly, it looked as if the blasted man really was innocent. The evidence the Auror department scrounged up was flimsy at best and outright indicated Black couldn’t have murdered Pettigrew and the muggles at worst. It was looking more and more likely that Black would win this case and be declared wholly innocent in short order.
And the blighter will point fingers at my administration for his “unlawful” treatment as soon as he’s declared innocent; never mind, I wasn’t the one who locked him up in the first place and declared him guilty.
Cornelius might have been able to place the blame solely on his predecessor Bagnold if it weren’t for his own actions in the years since Black escaped. As his solicitors reminded him – a truly excessive number of times, they didn’t need to harp on so – if he had allowed Black’s case to be reinvestigated after the little twerp had escaped Azkaban as Madame Bones and several others had requested, they might have been able to realize something was amiss and adjusted their course.
Instead, Cornelius had insisted they needed to catch the escaped criminal as quickly as possible and couldn’t be seen wasting time and resources looking into “ancient history.” It had been an election year, after all, and Cornelius had wanted Black caught quickly so it could be included on his list of achievements during his first term. Instead, he had barely scraped the win for another term by promising the reinstatement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament if he won – and look how that turned out. One boy dead, another a raving lunatic, and Dumbledore in the middle of a power grab against the Ministry.
Unfortunately for Cornelius and the Ministry, the requests to reopen Black’s case and Cornelius’s subsequent denials had all been on official memos. When Black subpoenaed all documents relating to his case and escape, they were included. Black’s bulldog of a lawyer would no doubt use those memos as proof of their negligence and dereliction of duty.
The next few weeks were sure to be full of unpleasantness, and Cornelius wished there was a way to wave his wand and make it all go away – Black, the Potter boy, and Dumbledore were all major headaches, in his opinion. Unfortunately, he didn’t think any pain-relieving potion would sort them out.
A perfunctory knock on his door heralded his Senior Undersecretary, and he perked up in relief when he saw the tea tray floating behind her. Dolores always made the best tea, despite it being a task much too menial for someone in her role; she was constantly bringing him fresh cups and little snacks, just the way he liked them.
“Pardon the interruption, Minister. I thought you might need some refreshments after such a dreadful meeting.” The tea tray lowered silently onto his desk, and Cornelius eagerly reached for the already filled tea cup, noticing the second empty cup tucked in the corner of the tray. Dolores must not have been sure of her welcome today if she had left the second cup empty.
“Thank you, Dolores, it’s like you read my mind! Would you like to join me?”
With a girlish laugh, Dolores seated herself in the chair across from “I’d be honored, Minister, thank you.”
They were silent for a moment as Dolores filled her teacup and added a touch of milk and sugar and then adjusted her pink jacket so it sat more comfortably across her shoulders while she settled into the chair.
After she had taken a small sip, Dolores spoke again, “I was so disappointed in what the solicitors shared today. I had expected much better work from them regarding the Black case. Nasty piece of work that he is, I would have thought it would have been a piece of cake to prove your administration had acted completely above board in working to recapture him.”
Cornelius huffed and said, “Yes, well, you know the lawyer type. Useless when you actually need them, and when you don’t, they’re constantly pestering you about regulations and such.”
Taking another fortifying sip of his tea, Cornelius said, “I’m afraid we’re likely to lose this case, Dolores. The DMLE will have no choice but to drop all charges against Black, and he’ll be walking the streets by summer’s end. No doubt he’ll join up with Dumbledore and the Potter boy to spout more nonsense about You-Know-Who returning from the grave.”
Dolores sniffed at the mention of Dumbledore, “That will only spin people up into more of a panic. How goes the efforts of the press to discredit Dumbledore? If we could get a vote of no confidence to remove him as the Chief Wizengamot, it could help us enormously in the long run.”
“Things are a bit slowed there. All anyone cares about is the Black case, so while The Prophet is mentioning Dumbledore – and Potter – where they can, most people are just focusing on anything related to Black. I doubt we’ll make much headway in changing people’s opinion on Dumbledore until everything with Black wraps up.”
“Well, I suppose that will be over with soon, and then we can refocus our efforts on more important things,” Dolores replied. “It’s a shame that scoundrel Berk insists on utilizing that old forgotten law. It would have made things much easier with Black in the courtroom. The Aurors could have arrested him right there, and everything would be over and done with.”
Cornelius winced as he thought of meeting with the Ministry solicitors earlier in the week. Black’s lawyer, Mr. Berk, had managed to dig up a law passed several hundred years ago giving Heads of Ancient and Noble Houses the ability to designate a proxy in all legal matters. While the law mainly had been used to set up designates in the Wizengamot for the Houses with heads that were too young or too disinterested to sit through the hours-long sessions, as the law was written, proxies could be assigned to “all legal matters.”
Meaning Black wouldn’t even have to be in the room for his own bloody trial.
Had Black been the defendant, Berk would likely have had a more difficult time arguing the use of the law, but as Black had laid the charges against the Ministry and all those he thought had wronged him, he could make his lawyer his proxy and miss the trial entirely.
“Yes, and if we somehow couldn’t catch him in the last two years, it’s quite doubtful our Aurors will somehow pull off a miracle and track him down within the next few days.” Cornelius firmly put Black’s likely innocence out of his head, wishing instead the DMLE could have somehow tracked him down and shoved him back into Azkaban before he had stirred up such a ruckus.
“I suppose, even if things don’t go our way, it will be a relief to be done with the trial preparations.” After another sip of his tea, Cornelius mused, “I feel as if we are fighting a battle on three fronts – Black and his ludicrous attack on the Ministry, Dumbledore’s nonsense, and Harry Potter ranting about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named supposedly returning. It’s rather difficult to manage all of these crises at once.”
“You know you only need to ask me for assistance, Minister, and I will be happy to do anything within my power to help you,” Dolores offered, “Dumbledore and Black might be out of our reach for now, but I’ll put my mind to the problem of Harry Potter and see if I can’t come up with a way to quiet him down before Hogwarts starts back up again.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that, my dear. Now, let’s put all this unpleasantness out of mind for now. How did the fire call go with the coordinators for the Spanish delegation?”