Friend Since Birth

*****
Sirius lounged in bed, unwilling to face the new day just yet. Last night had been the full moon and Remus had actually been excited to try transforming when finally clear of potions and with his brother right beside him. He’d spent the previous two moons of the summer ensconced in the bowels of Gringotts helping in the Aiaia vault so he didn’t transform, but he was stable enough now and wanted to see if Arianna’s predictions of the mental battle being over now that he was cleared of potions proved true. It hadn’t really surprised Sirius that Romulus was a wolf Animagus and he honestly welcomed the additional help in containing Moony if it had been needed. After all, it had often taken both he and Prongs to keep the wolf from wandering out of the forest and into the school.

However, Moony had been thrilled to no longer be at odds with his human half, far too enthralled with his own easy change and increased relaxation to be too curious about the areas beyond the wards of the Den’s property to need much corralling. And, after being slightly wary of the wolf that smelled like him but wasn’t, had then proceeded to tumble around with Padfoot and the silver wolf that was Romulus for hours. He’d ended up mostly chasing the Grim and nipping playfully anytime the poor creature had wanted to just cuddle, much to Romulus’ amusement.

Now, Sirius was tired, sore, irritated, and trying valiantly to deny his attraction to his oldest friend. And doubly glad he’d managed to convince Romulus to find his own bed when they staggered in early in the morning.

Then a groan froze him and he looked to what he’d thought was a pillow clutched to his chest. Instead, Remus’ tousled brown curls assaulted his nose and he had to swallow a sneeze at the sensation.

“’iri?” a sleepy voice asked, nuzzling into his chest. His very naked chest.

Sirius tried not to panic at the flash of arousal he felt when those sleepy lips kissed his skin.

“Remi,” he whined, trying to pull away.

“Oh, good, you’re both up!” a voice chirped from the doorway, sounding far too smug and awake.

Sirius jumped, dislodging the still partially asleep werewolf and then promptly falling off the edge of the bed, landing with a squeak he’d deny.

“Sirius?!” a suddenly awake Remus asked, popping his head over the edge of the bed in concern.

“Fine, Moony,” he soothed before scrambling up enough to glare at Arianna over the edge of the bed. “I’ve a pup to smack,” he said.

Arianna laughed, then produced her own squeak of surprise as the ball of black furred Padfoot barreled into her, effectively pushing her out of his room and then darting back in to kick the door shut.

“Menace!” he shouted through the wood as soon as he was back in human form.

“That’s the twins!” she shouted back before cackling as she walked away. “Come see me when you’re done!”

“Sirius?” Remus asked, sitting in the bed and rubbing adorably at his eyes.

Sirius groaned, knocking his head back against the door and trying to remember that this was his best friend. They’d been sharing a bed after a transformation for years with no thought. And the kisses didn’t mean anything, right? Oh, fuck it.

He was across the room and tackling the wolf in seconds, snuggling into his still sleepy arms and burying his face in the corner of his neck. He inhaled deeply and rumbled his happiness.

“You know, I would think the number of times I’ve called your name this morning would indicate a question in need of answering, but since you seem slow this morning, I’ll do it again,” the man said dryly as he let himself be practically mauled. “Sirius? What’s going on?”

Sirius mumbled but snuggled closer to hide his blush. He was a Black and Blacks didn’t blush, curse it. Merlin’s beard, this was a snarky wolf…

“I hate to tell you, Pads, but my Sirius mumble translator seriously isn’t working this morning. Try again,” Remus said with a chuckle that sent shivers through Sirius.

“IwanttoofficiallycourtyounotjuststealkissesandIdon’twantAritoteaseusandImnotsurehowIfeelaboutdatingmyoldestfriendandJameswouldlaughhisassoffatusfortakingsolongand….”

His words were jumbled and ran together and he really couldn’t care that his mother would have smacked him for it. He still didn’t know if he trusted Ari’s claim that they were soulmates, but at this point, he was willing to give it a shot. If the wolf was. And if he survived the fury of his wolf’s recently discovered but frighteningly protective twin when he realized Sirius had plans for his wolf. But that didn’t mean he could flat out say it.

But Remus seemed to understand the words as he stiffened. Sirius made to pull away but suddenly, arms were around him like a vice and he whined.

“Don’t you dare pull away after that,” Remus growled. “Just give me a moment to think, Pads.”

Sirius whined again, but nodded and went back to inhaling as much of Moony’s scent as he could. After so long in his Grim form, his senses tended to stay heightened and he loved the smell of parchment, ink, moss, and mint that surrounded the wolf. If he’d just ruined a friendship, he wanted as much of it in his nose as he could before he was shoved away.

To his surprise, Remus didn’t. In fact, he pulled him closer. Then tilted his head up gently and kissed him hard.

“About damn time, you mangy mutt,” he muttered against Sirius’ lips.

Sirius just smirked.

*****
Bill sighed as he stretched. Since being assigned to the wards of the bank and the healing ward, he’d spent far longer on his feet than he normally did, disillusioned to properly review the new wards around the bank proper. When he wasn’t in the depths of the bank, trying valiantly to keep his brother from trying to pet the swooping evil he’d found. Or getting his hair burnt by the small dragon perched on his shoulder on occasion.

It was actually a relief to take a few hours each day to scan the new wards around the bank to add to the frankly alarmingly detailed list of things they protected against now. He’d thought the previous wards had been detailed but they were proving nothing on wards cast by a dragon unconsciously. And if he was able to spend some time alone while doing so, he would take it. Especially after the disaster that had been the inclusion of the last of his siblings into the secrets the majority of them had been keeping for weeks. He needed time to come to terms with the idea that his brother had lost something precious to him. And that the man he’d seen as an honorary grandfather had been the one to take it away.

But then, that was the old man’s goal, wasn’t it? To make himself beloved by all those around him so as to be the last suspected capable of such horrors. More and more he was appreciative of Arianna’s efforts to help their world, to disillusion everyone around them of the glittering façade that was Albus Dumbledore. It didn’t take away from the pain he caused, but if their efforts could prevent even one more person from suffering as Percy had since finding out, then it would be worth it.

He would never again follow Dumbledore. And if he ever heard the phrase “the ends justify the means” or “greater good” again, he would hex whomever uttered them. He had little doubt they were the words that had deprived him of ever meeting his brother’s first child.

The heartbroken form of his brother taking over the sofa in his apartment at the bank was a sight that would stay with him for a while. But neither he or Charlie would not deny Percy the time, would not fault their quietest brother the time he needed. Both would be there for him in any way he could.

However, despite how he treated his brother, Bill would not deny that it had been far too long since he had the time alone he got studying the dragon wards. It had, in fact, been many years since he’d been around or worked so closely with anyone other than his curse breaking team, of which he was the only wizard. And goblins were not known to be talkative. Not like Charlie or Newt when it came to creatures. Or the three pairs of twins when they got to discussing the joke shop his twins would be opening next year. Or Arianna and Harry when discussing their parents. Or the rescues at the bank debating the revelations that had come about with their tests. Or the guards sharing stories in the barracks they still maintained as they acclimated to the new world they were experiences guarding Arianna. Or the many, many others he’d had to deal with lately.

So he would not protest the hours invisible to all and secreted away in a corner of the bank’s property in an often overlooked alley where the chances of interruption were very small.

But his invisibility and the isolation of the alley didn’t stop the creatures from scenting him, and therefore he had been the one to create more than a few entrances for the small things seeking shelter within. He did not begrudge them the interruptions, though. They all seemed to know not to make themselves known until he was at a point that he wouldn’t blow himself up if distracted.

And many seemed to be escaping not so pleasant circumstances, if the limping and whimpering were any indication.

Arianna had already assured the goblins that she would make room in the Sanctuary under development for all creatures that ventured into the bank for shelter and healing, if the goblins would only shelter them temporarily and address any medical issues they could.

Bill wouldn’t be surprised if her Sanctuary implemented the same offer.

Though, how the creatures were aware of the offer for shelter was beyond him.

Maybe he should ask Tharos if the dragon call that had gone out would act as a notification for the blanket offer of help Adaya had unknowingly given when she’d tried to protect her thunder?

*****
Arianna tried not to be smug as she worked through the short summary Percy had sent over and waited for her godfathers to finally arrive. She needed the distraction to prevent her from vibrating out of her chair in excitement. This was a good morning, Harry’s departure for school yesterday notwithstanding. For a number of reasons, not the least which was her catching her godfathers snuggling after the full moon. She’d figured they would, as she had some memories from before of similar puppy piles, but this one had screamed something more than the others. Mostly because there had been no sign of Romulus, Sirius had been human, and there had been sleepy kisses on creamy skin. Not something usually exchanged by platonic best friends. Needless to say, she was quite ready for the two of them to stop dancing and just admit they were mad for each other. And had been since she could remember. Perhaps removing the blocks was all that was needed.

But she also held a report from the most studious Weasley, something she hadn’t expected so soon and especially not after the revelations from his test and cleanse. She’d only managed to get the message box to him right before sending her exhausted brother off to school. It didn’t help that Percy had taken the cleanse a bit hard while still reeling from the news of his lost pregnancy. And yet, not even a day later, she had a short summary of the Evans vault. A Ladyship granted quietly and posthumously by the goblins because of her mother’s actions during the war. And it was the only one that was fully audited, Recalled, and secured against possible manipulations in the future, including a quickly penned draft of a will should something happen to her. The man must not have slept…. She’d have to remember that little quirk and see about countering it if it became habit.

Add in the report from Uncle Theseus and that she was finally well rested after the house elf bondings and she couldn’t help the small flairs of fairy lights as her magic tried to manifest her excitement. Something the pair of house elves in the door found too amusing.

“Missy! Pretties!” the smaller one squeaked excitedly, darting into the room and trying to catch one of the lights.

The older one just rolled her eyes and smiled at the little one. Arianna laughed as the obviously younger one jumped around in pursuit. Then she concentrated for a moment, and the little one actually caught one of the lights, smiling blindly when the light turned out to be a small ball that shone with an inner light.

“Enjoy,” she said softly, smiling at the elf and leaning back in her chair.

The elf looked at her in wonder, then at the ball in his hand. Then back at her. And started sobbing in joy.

Again, the older one rolled her eyes, then soothed the small thing and pushed him forward.

“Missy,” the older one greeted.

“Dear one,” she greeted back. She’d been sure to ask the elves to be patient with her as she tried to remember all their names, so endearments would be prevalent until she got better at it and got to know them more. But just because she called them all ‘dear one’ or something similar, it did not mean she didn’t mean it every time.

“I’s Bobbin and this is Thread, Missy,” the elf said with a smile.

“Ah, mother and son, if I’m not mistaken, Ms. Bobbin,” she nodded, vaguely recalling them coming from the Ptolemy holdings and asking to be transferred to the Aiaia holdings to help the older elves. And that one of the last heirs had been a seamstress or tailor. She couldn’t remember which.

“Yes, Missy,” Bobbin agreed.

“And what can I do for you today, Ms. Bobbin?” she asked, curious. These were actually the first to come to her for something other than a hug since she’d told the elves of her open-door policy for questions and requests. Granted, it had been only a few days and many of the elves were busy with the properties and vaults, but as she’d told them, they could visit at any time and she didn’t expect them to work constantly. In fact, she’d urged then to set up a schedule that included meal times and dedicated sleep. Something they’d found shocking.

“Well, Missy,” Bobbin started slowly. “We’s been noticing lots of clothing as we’s been working and we was wondering if Missy wanted the clothes.”

Arianna thought for a moment, humming gently to let the little elves know that she had heard.

“Would it be possible for you to collect all the clothing and sort through it?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes, easy,” Bobbin answered, splitting her attention between her mistress and her son.

“Alright, do so. Anything that has seen better days, with stains or damage from long disuse and cannot be fully repaired, if there is anything salvageable, I’d like you and some of the other elves to use what fabric you can save to make clothes for the elves,” she said, thinking of the possibly thousands of pieces the elves would have found. And the centuries they would have spent in the vaults and properties. She had no doubt there would be some that had not been kept in stasis and many would need to be either altered or sent to museums with the differences in fashion, even in the notoriously slow moving fashion of magicals. And she wanted her elves properly clothed for the weather. But before Bobbin could start panicking that she planned to free them all, she continued. “These clothes will be on loan from my Houses, so they will not free the elves, but I do hope you’ll use them, if only to chase away the chill in the properties you work in before we can get them set up with proper warming charms or fireplaces. And I’ve no doubt some of the fabrics will be things previously admired with no hope of wearing. Anything that is worth saving, please repair those that need it, then place it all in one of the properties, and organize it. I’ll sort through for what I would like to hold on to and we’ll look at the rest.”

She had a feeling they’d be donating a good majority, if the clothes were as prevalent as books seemed to be. And she could only wear so much, especially since, even as short as she was by modern standards, she was still taller than most ladies from bygone eras. There were only so many alteration charms that could be used, especially on more delicate fabrics. She was sure there were some pieces that had to stay with the House they came from, as family magic was strange and the crests would never permit a change, but surely there were others. Maybe Twilfits would even appreciate some of them, for fabrics created centuries ago would surely fetch a good price and allow some modifications.

And if the monarchy was ever filled again, even the most elegant of dress robes of the modern age would not be enough to fulfill the court dress requirements. If anything, she may be the only one that would, with her detailed dragon-hide armor and dueling robes that made up the majority of her wardrobe, since dresses were just asking too much at the moment. Too much of the muggle fashions had trickled over. Normally she had no problem with the idea, as muggles were dead brilliant and deserved respect, but traditions existed in the magical world as more than just ancestry. Despite what Dumbledore seemed to believe. There was a purpose to everything and, even though distorted by prejudice and fear, the pureblood traditions needed to make a resurgence, though not at the costs Voldemort was demanding.

A prime example was the dragon-hide she wore, as it was an evolution of the full suit of armor Artair used to wear. Whereas his was just metal but with the inside riddled with runes, hers was much more magical. And did not void the idea of armor, nor completely cling to it. The dragon-hide absorbed her innate magics and grew stronger and better able to protect her the more it was worn. Her preferred pieces were ones she’d reclaimed from one of her vaults at the urging of a pair of insistent goblins. They had generations of magicals adding to the protections they provided, and she was fairly sure there was little that could get past the leather. The similar runes scattered thoroughly on the underside of the leather were just excessive.

Not even embroidered fabrics she wore to accent the armor were without conscious thought. The close-cut dueling robes and under pieces were charmed with additional protections, the intricacy of the embroidery subtly denoting her titles and family. Each accessory she added also expanded the story and if one were to read carefully, one would know quite a lot about her just by the traditions she upheld. Traditions that aided her magic and protected her with centuries of family. She had little doubt that the traditions she upheld were part of the reason she was as powerful as she was.

And all that knowledge was lost for the most part, forgotten in the idea that the explanations were just tales. Muggleborns could be excused from knowing, as the classes that explained such information had long since been removed from all educational institutions, thereby leading to the inclusion of so many muggle traditions overwriting the ancient ones. And the purebloods were lost in the debate between Light and Dark. A debate that had recently escalated to wars that meant so often the family head died before passing on the knowledge to the next generation, with each successive generation knowing even less. Between the two, the modern magical society was a shell of what it should be. And had next to nothing to do with muggleborns, since the ones ridding the place of the hallowed halls of tradition and education were mostly purebloods. Such as Dumbledore…

The Potters had always been more paranoid than the rest, without the eventual madness and inbreeding of the more recognized line of paranoia, the Blacks, and had written down much of the history, with little experiments woven throughout each explanation so that the doubtful could prove to themselves the truth of the stories. It would help if the unthinkable happened and the Lord passed before carefully instructing the Heir. Such as had had happened with her father and Harry. And they’d focused on more than just the Potter family. She’d poured over the books in fascination as a child, since her father hadn’t had any problem with her doing the experiments despite her young age and lack of ability to take on the Lordship. The cost of being a female in the patriarchal line. It was something that had annoyed her mother to no end but there was little to be done, since the magic was weaved into the various family pieces and couldn’t be changed. Yet she had been so fascinated by the stories she read. When she’d managed to perform conscious magic at seven after reading about such magically imbued fabrics and stealing an heirloom cloak from James’ closet to test the boost it gave her even as a child, well, she rarely doubted much more of the instructions.

She’d even reviewed some of them with Merlin to see if he could add or counter any information.

After he’d been shocked speechless at the depth and breadth of the information, she would gladly set up classes for any who wanted to know more and had been denied. She would also work on getting the monarchy reinstated so there could be more wholescale changes that didn’t need the politics of the corrupt Wizengamot to approve. For now, she would publicly hold to the Old Traditions, as a way to hopefully remind the world that they had purpose. While she was claiming American heritage, many in the magical world tended to forget the country was born from British citizens rebelling. It was how she was explaining her ladyship, despite coming from another country. Something the Brits should not be so surprised about, considering the empire the Queen once held sway over. But she would claim tutelage in traditions long held in low esteem in this country that were important to her family.

She was not ignorant. Some were necessary to forget or ignore. But traditions could be changed, evolved, and the wholescale denial of them was not the way to do so. Magic was struggling, in more ways than one, and she knew it. Between the widespread corruption, the horrible treatment of so many magical creatures and beings, the blocks on what she feared was almost all the population, and the massive death toll over the last century due to Grindelwald and Voldemort, the bonds of magic and magical were strained almost to breaking. She suspected it was why there were so many squibs born lately. Well, the slow decline of magic and the inbreeding due to horrible beliefs about blood. Either way, there was a pervasive tension in her head almost screaming to stop it all so future generations would still get the thrill of levitating a feather for the first time. Or being swept up in the frenzy of a first flying lesson. Of enjoying magic as it was meant to be, in every little thing around them, and not the stifling, fearful thing it was right now, suppressed beyond imagining and being bred out of the world by arrogance and ignorance. She had no idea if it was because of the number of houses she held or some innate knowledge one of her rings was pushing on her, but she could feel it. And it urged her to fix it.

Yet she knew there were many steps that needed to be taken before she could get to work. This goal was far reaching and she had to focus on the smaller things she could do from the shadows for now. Until she was fully prepared to announce herself, it was all that could be done. Not that anything she did had no purpose. But she was a Hufflepuff first and foremost and her family took precedent to the entire world. Once they were as safe as she could make them, then she’d see about her other plans. Hopefully with the full support of most of her family.

So, here she was, discussing clothing with an adorable house elf that just wanted to get back to what she knew. If it also helped by giving the elves added protection and respect, thereby adding a bit of balance to magic itself, then all the better. And if the donation she planned of ancient fabrics, almost dripping with magic, helped protect one magical, muggleborn, halfblood, or pureblood alike, it would be worth it. The added proof that blood status didn’t matter one lick to her was just a bonus.

“Will Missy be needing anything before Bobbin is off to get started?” the elf asked, pulling her soundly from her very off-track thoughts.

“Be sure to take help from the other elves. I don’t want you trying to sort through all of that on your own,” she added absently before another idea occurred to her. “Do you have a list of all the adolescent elves?” she asked, staring at little Thread playing happily with the ball. “Or can you put one together?”

“Bobbin be doing so!” the elf said happily. “Bobbin expect many more be coming soon, Missy. Elfsies be having more magic and many be wishing for families, if what Bobbin be hearing is true.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Arianna said with a laugh, thinking to the many elf mates who had greeted her when she met with them all. And the number with no little ones of their own. Unlike magicals and mundanes, elves didn’t really ever lose the ability to bear or sire young. Even as old as Zoe was, she technically could bear a youngling. Though, Arianna doubted she would. She’d just inherited a number anyway, without the strain a pregnancy would put on her body. “As I have no problem with that, I planned for the influx. I’m working on getting more family added to the bonds, so there will be even more magic to share with the elves. But if you could get me that list, I have an idea.”

Bobbin nodded and then popped away with her son. Arianna hoped the other young ones didn’t panic when she gifted them toys. Thread’s fascination with the glowing ball was giving her ideas and she had to talk with Fred and George after they’d had a chance to settle into their final year at Hogwarts. Over the summer when the pair had been discussing the shop with the goblins and the Marauders, they’d been talking about trying to dye Puffskins and maybe miniaturizing them. She felt that, if they succeeded, the little creatures would be massively popular and the elves might like some. If not, they could always try to replicate what her magic had done on its own. She’d have to ask to borrow the ball for a quick study session, but she’d return it as soon as they were done.

Her musings were interrupted by her godfathers finally joining her, looking a bit flustered. When she looked at Remus, he blushed scarlet and tried to hide behind a smug Sirius. She quirked an eyebrow at the pair, but Sirius just fanned himself dramatically and she gagged when she realized exactly what had been keeping them so long.

“No!” she ordered, burying her face in her hands and somehow managing to plug her ears at the same time. “You are allowed to be sickly sweet in love but the moment you start trying to tell me about your sex life, I’m hexing you! Then I’m telling Uncle Romulus.”

Sirius laughed loudly and when Arianna glanced at them quickly, she noticed Remus looked seconds from fainting with how much of his blood was in his face and not the rest of his body.

“Duly noted, Prongslette,” Sirius crowed, sauntering into the room and flopping into his favorite chair by the fireplace, leg thrown haphazardly over the armrest. When Remus followed and made to sit in the nearby chair, Sirius just reached up and pulled the wolf into his lap, snickering when Remus winced before getting comfortable.
Arianna whined but said nothing.

“You wanted to see us, Ari?” Remus said, managing to sound normal even when he still looked mortified.

“Yes,” she said, trying to force herself back on task. “Uncle Theseus sent a report late last night. He’s spent the last few days at the Ministry with the product of your hunt,” she started. That got Sirius’ full attention and he sat up straighter, his arms around Remus securing the wolf as he shifted.

“And?”

“And the Wizengamot held an emergency session yesterday, for which Dumbledore was not able to attend due to the arrival of the students,” she said with a vicious smirk. One that was mirrored by the two Marauders.

“Good,” Sirius said. “Wouldn’t want the man to interfere when we’re so close.”

“Not close,” Arianna denied, spelling the file over to the pair with a flick of her wrist and wand. “Done.”

“Seriously?” Sirius demanded, snatching the file and flipping through it eagerly.

“Yes, seriously, Sirius,” she said with a small smirk. “As of yesterday evening, one Sirius Orion Black was found innocent of the crimes he was accused of and freed. The Wizengamot is issuing a statement today advising that he is free to resume his life without fear of arrest or Kiss and if he were to present himself to the Auror department, he would be given restitution for his years wrongfully imprisoned and a formal apology. Courtesy of a Madam Amelia Bones and a number of unnamed Aurors and consultants. There is also an investigation to be launched to audit the other arrests made at the time and do a thorough accounting of the prisoners in Azkaban to see if anyone else ‘slipped through the cracks of war’. Uncle Theseus is remaining in the Ministry to assist per request of Madam Bones and the Chief Auror Scrimgeour, or he would have delivered the news himself.”

Sirius and Remus stared at her in shock.

“Amelia fought for me?” Sirius asked. “I thought she hated me.”

“Well, if you read Theseus’ report on her, you’ll find she both hates and loves you and stated point blank she hopes you return to the Auror Corps as she misses your snark and reckless but efficient methods. She even has a possible partner for you already.”

Sirius snickered at that and Arianna could tell he was thinking about it. He might not have before, but he had had little chance to consider what would happen when he was proven innocent.

“Gods, I hope it’s Kings. That man was probably one of the best recruits I’d ever worked with,” he muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think Moody would disagree on that one, since he came out of retirement just to train this one,” she said with a small smile. She hoped the man gave the woman a chance and didn’t write her off immediately because of previous facts.

“Dora,” Sirius read in shock. “She wants to pair me with Dora.”

“Problem?” Arianna asked warily, sharing a look with Remus that confirmed he felt the same.

“No,” Sirius denied immediately with a shake of his head. “After the tests, she confirmed with Veritaserum that she had no idea about the contract. And she was cleansed weeks ago, even if she’s not been added to the Fidelius. Andy’s even doing follow up tests once a week just to be sure they’re still clear, since Dora’s attending Order meetings and Andy has to deal with Dumbles on occasion. That and we don’t know exactly who to trust at this point. I was going to tell her about the holsters at our next meeting so she could see about getting them all one. And maybe float the idea of finally adding them to the Fidelius to Remus. I think they’ve proven themselves already and it would make Ted’s job much easier if Harry can be completely honest. But Dora? Mad-Eye came out of retirement just to train her? I wonder why.”

“Well, ask her, either as her new partner or as her cousin,” Arianna said bluntly. “If she even knows. And I vote yes, when it’s time to take stock. From Andy’s stories, she was horrified by the blocks and potions and spells and had every intention of grilling Severus about how they could have survived the Auror entrance tests, since she can’t ask any Auror until they’re cleared.”

Sirius nodded and continued to flip through the pages absently.

“Would Mad-Eye be someone to approach?” Remus wondered as he read with Sirius. “We’re getting to the point where everyone we know has at least been tested, if not added to the Fidelius about Dumbledore’s crimes and your true heritage.

“I’m not sure I trust someone that paranoid,” Arianna muttered honestly. “But it also probably means he’s not potioned or spelled. If he is, we’ll have to take an even harder look at everyone, because if the old goat can get to someone like that, he can get to anyone, up to and including Voldemort…. Maybe even Grindelwald.”

Sirius grumbled but nodded and Remus sighed. They spent the next few hours debating the best way to get Sirius to the Ministry without getting him hexed or instantly killed.