Buzzing Bee
*****
Sirius sat in the uncomfortable chair, a smug grin on his face and an eye on his fellow lords. The little fact of his return was now the topic of conversation and it was entertaining watching Dumbledore try again to defend his lack of knowledge as they debated who should be included in the protections suggested in response. Surprisingly, it was Malfoy arguing loudest for protections of the current Lords, regardless of affiliation or wealth to prevent such oversight in the future. Well, not so surprising when one factored in that Lucius was looking to leave the ranks of a madman to protect his family. He’d arranged another meeting with the family after the session to determine if he was ready to welcome Narcissa and Draco back into the Black family and if Lucius was worth saving. He knew Arianna wanted to bring them all in from the cold, but he was not as sure. The last war left an impression and Lucius was vicious when cornered. If he was faking, he was a danger if they exposed the lies and he would not allow the bastard around his pup if that was the case.
“This is ridiculous,” Yaxley snarled. “We’re getting nothing done but shouting at each other and throwing accusations. What was the point of bringing this up without a plan to propose, Lady Aiaia?”
“I believe in consensus and have little care for politicking,” she answered promptly. She made an impressive picture, arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair and stared around the room, expression blank but eyes burning with passion. “I don’t care about light or dark, so stop yourselves from even considering I’m on either side. There is a reason I sat in a neutral location. I give no fucks what your core is or the type of magic you practice, as long as no one’s getting hurt. This is about what is best for the entire nation. And locking up the heads of such old, influential families because of their beliefs is bullshit. I only care about actions. That’s what we should be focusing on, not the petty little feuds you have going on outside this room. I’m not asking you to change your beliefs, but you better come to the table with more to support it than ‘we’ve always done it that way’,” she snarled, glaring daggers at Madam Longbottom and Albus Dumbledore pointedly. “I’ve given my facts, supported by evidence, for what I think should happen for all discussed issues today, including the proposed bills by others. Up to and until others can do the same, I think it’s pointless to still be here.
“I had hoped we could make some progress, but if all we take away from this is the knowledge that we should think a little more about the bills we’re reviewing, I’ll take it. Do I think the Lords and Ladies need to be protected? Yes! Look around us! Look at the number of empty seats. Some have been vacant for generations. Others have been vacant since the original family that earned the seat passed on, such as my own. And some are only recently. But instead of trying to fill them, to locate heirs or let magic choose a new family to join us, you all are so stuck in a system that’s obviously not working, that you’d rather see them empty than lose even an ounce of power you have. How’s that working for you? Your population is dwindling, your lords are dying, your biased and not nearly complete list of Sacred 28 are in danger of going extinct, even with the prejudice in that list. Will you be so pompous when all the pureblood lines are finally tainted or extinct?
“Will your precious bloodlines survive if Voldemort takes over? It’s been proven he’s still around, so perhaps it’s something you’ve not thought of in years but start. He may be all about blood purity, but what’s his plan for reviving the population? Arranged marriages between already strained bloodlines? Forced breeding of any and all females and male carriers? Making any and all child bearers that can carry as many as possible? From their husbands or anyone dictated? How will your daughters feel about that? How do they feel about it now? How about your heirs, the ones in line for your seats when you die? What about the knowledge that’s supposed to pass from Head to Heir? What happens to that if you all die suddenly? What about the ones that already face that? Longbottom, Potter, Crouch, Lestrange, Black, and many more already face extinction, without the knowledge passed on. For Merlin’s sake, Longbottom and Potter are the last of their lines! Crouch just lost his only son, if we ever find the man himself. And the Lestranges are all insane and locked up. Black was imprisoned for 12 years in a nightmare and could have died before fathering a child, leaving the main Black line extinct. And no one questioned his trial. And these are just the few well-known examples I have learned of since stepping foot in this country, just among your Lords and Ladies.
“What of the rest of the country? Of those not offered the protections already given those elite few? Of the half-bloods and those coming into this world with none of the training your children receive at home? That don’t know their protections and cannot be expected to argue for them when something like what happened to Lord Black is perpetrated on them? If they have no support, how many have left England entirely? Or simply vanished with no record? How many actually died in the raids? How many of you even thought to think of them? And how many are languishing even now, innocent, in the nightmare you call a prison because no one thought to teach them how to live in a world they’d never even heard of until eleven? You condemn a great deal of your own population but when was the last time any of you even talked with one without looking down on them? I spend a great deal of time speaking with more than a few and I say this, the protections you all call for as Lords and Ladies are the very least we should be offering. So, really, how’s this shitshow working for anyone?”
The room sat in stunned silence and Sirius tried valiantly to withhold his gleeful cackling. That was perhaps the most honest, well-thought-out speech he’d ever heard. And it was aimed at more than just one side. She made no attempt to only name light families or point out concerns for one side. And she did it all in a way that forced them to see the true situation and how dire it was. Sirius had no doubt many hadn’t even thought about it, content to just look after their own, but Wizarding Britain really needed a change. He knew she had her own plans, but the way she phrased it, it was going to have to be a group effort, with compromise on both sides. Yet Sirius had no doubt her plan was the one that would be implemented. She was too good at this to lose. And even if she came close, there were contingency plans. It was perfect. A quick look at the man he wanted to call mate had him slumping in fear. Remus looked seconds from hexing him if he laughed.
When the silence continued, Arianna just stared around the room for another few minutes before standing.
“I have other matters to attend to and it appears as though you all need time to think and consider my words,” she announced as she gathered her few things. “I propose we take this topic home and work on our proposed changes to protect the Houses of Britain. I’d suggest no plan is too ridiculous. We need real changes and real options so even if the whole plan is unrealistic, we may be able to use parts of it. I’m not trying to take your job, Chief Warlock, but I feel strongly about this, if you couldn’t tell. So, I propose we work on our plans for the next month and reconvene to discuss this and any other bills we need.”
“You overstep your bounds, young lady,” Dumbledore snapped.
“Nowhere in the charter of the Wizengamot excludes me from making such a suggestion,” Arianna snarled back. “Perhaps a vote, to remove any such view, however?”
The Lords and Ladies watched the interaction like watching a Quidditch match, bouncing between the spitfire next to him and the old man across the room. Sirius watched them and saw many were more serious than they usually were and more present in the conversation than he could ever remember from his trips with his father and uncle to these meetings. It was unclear if that was due to the cleanse or her words.
“Very well,” Dumbledore finally said. “All in favor of Lady Aiaia’s proposed plan to adjourn for one month to prepare possible solutions to threats to the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot.”
“And Wizarding Britain,” Arianna added, much to Dumbledore’s chagrin and Sirius’ amusement. Can’t forget those not yet accepted into the Wizengamot or the general public, after all.
“And Wizarding Britain,” Dumbledore ground out.
Almost every wand lit in approval, save those they knew were loyal to Dumbledore or just spiteful. Molly looked ready to strangle Arianna and Umbridge looked seconds from fainting.
“Then so mote it be,” Dumbledore announced with a well contained sneer.
Arianna smirked then turned with a flourish of her robes and made her way out of the hall.
Sirius kept an eye on the other Wizengamot members as the door thudded shut behind his pup, secure in the knowledge that Arianna was walking right into the arms of her guards and the dedicated men and women Moody trusted. But he wanted to see how the members acted now that she was gone. And it was glorious chaos.
*****
Arianna sighed as she walked right to Artair as soon as she could after her final words to the Wizengamot. She tried to keep the dignified and powerful walk she’d been using since she’d arrived in the Ministry today but didn’t care if she failed at it. Artair took one look at her face and was whisking her away without a word.
She’d have to thank him and the group of guards that surrounded her easily.
Barely aware of their trip through the quiet halls, ignoring the few calls of those Lords and Ladies exiting behind her, Arianna let Artair take care of her. Her enforced rest and intervention yesterday was well timed, but not really enough to fully recover from her stupidity, so she was tired. And that had been more draining than she’d expected. When Artair guided her through the floo to the Den, she just allowed him to hold her in the study they arrived in.
“I’m proud you didn’t take your revenge,” Artair offered after a few moments, when the rest of the guard had come through, the floo was locked down, and they were alone.
“I really wanted to,” she admitted, clutching tight to the robes the man had finally accepted in place of his heavy armor.
“I know,” he muttered, resting his bearded chin on her head and tightening his arms around her smaller frame. It was like being hugged by a bear and she loved it right now. She needed it right now.
“Da should have been there today,” she whispered.
“He should have,” Artair agreed.
“That bastard took this first from him.”
“He did.”
“That fucker took a lot of firsts from my parents,” she said dully.
“He did. And he will pay for those lost opportunities,” Artair agreed, pulling away to look at her closely. “But in time and in the way you’ve devised. A quick death is too good for him and you will see to it that he suffers for his wrongs. As the lady wishes, so shall it be.” His words held power and conviction. Both of which she felt strangely lacking at the moment. But his faith in her, his willingness to follow someone who’d only inherited his service and not known for very long was rebuilding her faith in her plans.
She’d wanted so badly to just kill Dumbledore as soon as she’d walked into the Wizengamot. So badly wanted to just end his reign with a simple spell. A spell her brother was intimately familiar with. Even without the spell, she very easily could have ended the man in his chair with a well-placed knife. Before he could hurt another child. Before he could kill another person. Before he could manipulate one more innocent. Before he could be responsible for more death and destruction and pain. And she would have done it happily, taking payment for the wrongs she’d suffered directly. For the pain her brother lived with and the parents they’d lost thanks to the man. But she took strength from her godfather at her side. In the watchers and minders who’d guarded her from the gallery. In the faith her brother gave her to handle things while he was in school. And she’d beat back the part of her thirsting for blood to do what she needed.
If she killed him now, he’d become a martyr, forever a saint in the eyes of the world for his tireless fight against the monsters he’d created. It wouldn’t matter what proof they shared after the fact. There would always be those that still believed in him. So, they had to do what was supposed to be impossible. They had to make a god bleed.
She had to be content with the first steps they’d made today. Long planned and well executed, if she said so herself.
Eventually, she’d make him pay for depriving her of the chance to sit in on her first Wizengamot meeting with her dad, in the chair next to him so she could listen to his snarky comments about those around them. Even if she wasn’t the Potter heir because of Family Law, she would have been expected to help Harry out. It was tradition in the Potter family and one that James had held to, despite the protests of the other families that thought having siblings, especially female ones, help the new lord was wrong. But if there was one thing the Potters cared about, it was family. And anyone who thought otherwise was an idiot.
She should have sat next to her da and been instructed on how the Wizengamot worked, who held what family, the politics in place at the moment, bills recently passed and how they affected the entirety of magical Britain, and a number of other nuances of the reality of their station in their world. A fact that Da had often whined about to their Mum. And Arianna had fond memories of distracting him from whenever he came home in his ‘stuffy adult robes’. She’d been promised a trip with him when she turned nine.
“I need distraction,” she finally muttered, glad Artair was just as happy to be silent as he was to wax on about stories from his life and the antics the guards had gotten up to in their boredom in the vault. And that he’d pulled her back to him quickly when she started to get lost in thought.
“Well, I am certain King Ragnok wouldn’t protest a few more hours of time with you reviewing documents,” Artair offered with an audible smile.
She pulled back and glared at him. Then whimpered.
“I’m never going to get to do anything fun anymore…. Too much paperwork…”
He only chuckled and called for her Gringotts level of guard.
“Too much guarding too,” she muttered in annoyance, resigned to being forever guarded.
*****
An hour later, Sirius was starting to regret sticking around. The lords and ladies weren’t dispersing as they usually did after the Chief dismissed them, but then again, Dumbledore was still there too when he normally flounced off back to whatever he did to avoid his various responsibilities. He and Lucius Malfoy were staring at him and the Prewetts closely from opposite sides of the room, but Sirius could only sigh in exasperation, cutting into the tale Fabian was telling of some of the rescues to occupy the time before Sirius was ready to leave.
“Problem?” Gideon asked, without looking alarmed or surprised.
“Only in that I don’t think either will approach while the two of you are here…” Sirius grumbled. “Try and take Lucius to the side and see what he wants before our meeting while I deal with dunderhead…”
“Oh, someone’s been spending too much time around Severus,” Fabian commented with a chuckle.
“Don’t tell the git,” he said with a wince.
“You gonna be alright, Siri?” Gideon asked, maneuvering so he could see into Sirius’ steel grey eyes.
“Remus is still watching, as is Moody. I’m sure that even if I’m not, the pair of them at the very least will get me somewhere safe,” Sirius reassured, unwilling to raise his voice. It wouldn’t matter, though. Remus’ enhanced hearing would pick it up and the shifter would carry his concerns to the paranoid Auror. “Besides, why not poke the dragon? We have our own, after all.”
The Prewetts laughed loudly at that, drawing the gaze of more than a few of those still lingering, but they nodded and stood as one, in the dark about just how accurate his comment was. The entire room turned towards them for a moment before whispers broke out again. When the pair marched to Lucius and bracketed him on either side, guiding him out of the hall expertly, the whispers erupted into full blow speculations.
But it was apparently exactly what Dumbledore was waiting for as he approached the moment the small group disappeared. Just like Sirius had expected.
“Sirius, my boy,” Dumbledore said when he was close enough.
“Dumbledore, I’ll say this only once more before I start hexing you,” Sirius growled out, already out of patience and the conversation hadn’t even started. “I am not your boy. I have never been your boy. And as a grown man who spent years as the Ministry’s top Hitwizard, who spent twelve years in the nightmare that is Azkaban, who is a Lord in the Wizengamot, and who spent two years successfully avoiding the Ministry’s best, I resent the implication that I am still a child. You call me ‘boy’ one more time and I am not responsible for my actions. I have told you for years that I hate the word and yet you never seem to remember. Not only that, but I have never given you leave to use my given name and as I have taken up my Lordship, you should address me as Lord Black. As you have been reminded of repeatedly, including today. Perhaps your mind is slipping.”
Sirius glared at the man, but saw Moody laughing next to a ruefully grinning Remus.
“My apologies, Lord Black,” Dumbledore said begrudgingly. “It is a hard habit to break when speaking to former students of mine.”
“I haven’t been a student in over twenty years, Dumbledore,” Sirius snapped. “And I don’t see you having the same issues with others. If that is your excuse, then you would have the same issue with almost the entirety of Magical Britain, seeing as you’ve been an educator here for generations. Yet you do not, even with those of my same generation. So do not play that game with me. It is deliberate and I will not allow it any longer.”
Sirius could see that Dumbledore wanted to comment more, to take him to task or outright curse him if the glint in his eye was any indication, but instead the Chief Warlock took a deep breath and eyed him closely.
“I will attempt to remember moving forwards, however, that’s not why I came to speak with you,” Dumbledore said. “I wanted to discuss Harry.”
Sirius eyed him a moment before quickly casting a privacy charm, modified so only Remus could hear them. It wasn’t usual for someone to be able to cast one in the chamber, but with Dumbledore ending the session, the wards preventing it were lifted. Something Sirius had confirmed before even stepping foot in the place. Arianna may not like the Ministry, but the building itself was set up much better than most knew, even if the current administration rarely used the more relevant preventions available.
“And you thought a crowded Wizengamot chamber was the appropriate place to discuss private business like my godson?”
“Well, you have not responded to my letters requesting a meeting,” Dumbledore said gently, grandfather tone in full affect again.
“I tend not to respond to cursed parchment,” Sirius said bluntly, eyes narrowing at the flash of surprise and anger that Dumbledore quickly hid. “Any letters with such blatant spells and potions infused in the parchment are immediately destroyed by the goblins, after careful note is taken of the content and origin of the magic on them for any future charges I may wish to place, or any actions taken against me. With the news of my trial spreading quickly, I thought it wise to have the goblins monitor my mail for a few years, if not the rest of my natural life. The Black family accounts manager was quite eager and has been gleefully dealing with the various threats and attempts to control me that have begun, since I am an unmarried or betrothed lord of an Ancient House with possibly direct influence on the heralded ‘Boy-Who-Lived’. Add in the state I was in, no thanks to you, since I escaped, and it was deemed necessary by both Gringotts and those in charge of my recovery. The healers weren’t too thrilled with my state when I presented myself after the announcement of my innocence was made.”
“Were you ill, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, only to wince at the stinging hex that followed quickly.
“Yes, very,” Sirius growled, trying to keep himself from sending more than a mild hex at the man for the blatant disbelief and slight sneer of condescension in the short question. “A fact that no one seemed to care about other than Remus and Harry over the last two years. The healers were not impressed and are working with my account manager to ensure no mail puts the work they did to fix me in jeopardy. Since I’ve received nothing from you, I can only speculate that they found potions or spells imbued in the letters. But, yes, by all means, what did you want to discuss about Harry?”
“I fear the boy is being manipulated and told incorrect information by whomever has removed him from his relatives’ care,” Dumbledore admitted, obviously playing up the concerned elderly headmaster and completely ignoring the accusation of manipulation. “As his godfather, I thought you might know who he’s staying with. The boy trusts you and I believe he might have told you.”
“If memory serves, he told you as well. I distinctly remember Harry telling you he stayed with the goblins when he ran away from his abusive aunt and uncle. But I’ll play along. What evidence do you have that is causing such concern?” Sirius asked, with a wave of his hand and no movement from his chair. It was the only thing keeping him from going after the man.
Dumbledore seemed surprised by his venom, but simply nodded and said, “His robes for one are not school appropriate and I have been unable to address it with him. He speaks with such a lack of respect, unlike how we’ve come to know young Harry. He refuses to listen to instruction about his lessons with the Defense teacher. He refuses to eat with his house, as is required. And he insists on spreading lies about his life with his relatives. I fear whomever he spent the remainder of the summer with is turning him dark.”
Sirius snorted, shaking his head at the man in exasperation and smug satisfaction that his theory was proven correct. They’d all been avoiding spending time alone with Dumbledore since their cleanses, but Sirius wanted to know what the old man was up to. And as the one least likely to fall to a spell from the man, aside from Arianna, he’d decided to find out. That he was doing so in public, even if no one heard, only added to his precautions. Now he knew.
“I find this news quite distressing, Sirius,” Dumbledore said sternly. “It is not amusing that the Saviour could turn out to be darker than You-Know-Who.”
“That boy is no more evil than I am,” Sirius denied with a chuckle, ignoring the casual address for the moment. “At the very least, he’s a better man than his father. He’s not dark.”
No need to tell the bastard that Harry was pure Grey. Smack dab in the middle. A true neutral, just like his Twin Menaces. Arianna had chuckled long and hard about that when she’d noticed, but only shared with him. After all, he shared her sense of humor.
“And what of the other concerns I have?” Dumbledore asked pointedly.
“The robes are within rules. You’re not allowed to be alone with any student, so I’m not worried about you not being able to meet with him. If you had such a problem, you’d approach his Head of House instead of trying to meet with him alone. And if you’d done that, I’m pretty sure Minnie would have handed you your hat, since I doubt McGonagall has an issue with the robes. She seems likely to have actually read the Hogwarts handbook if she’s not raised a fuss herself. Or reviewed it when Harry showed up in them. The Defense professor is a Ministry spy, as I’m sure you know. He can speak to her however he likes. I wouldn’t even expect him to remain polite as is expected of his station as I have a hard time being polite to the pink toad and I at least had the training of an Heir of an Ancient House, something I’ll have to see if Harry’s gotten from the goblins.
“I’d have to have more explanation on the other shows of disrespect to make a call on them, but if the professors are being rude to him, I see no issue with it. You’ll remember how little respect I paid until the professors earned it when I was in school. Just being a professor shouldn’t guarantee it, especially if they’re attacking him or bullying him, as I know from first-hand experience is possible. Again, there is also no requirement for students to eat with their houses in the handbook, only a stupid tradition that fosters distance and disrespect. Many a misunderstanding could have been prevented if students actually interacted with the other houses outside of class and Quidditch games, so I’m more likely to congratulate him for fostering inter-house cooperation than chastise him for balking tradition. It’s a bit concerning that you’re not doing similar. And they aren’t lies. His relatives beat him and belittled him his entire life. Which literally anyone who knew Lily would have been able to tell you. Petunia is a jealous bint who hates magic because her sister got it and she didn’t, and her husband is ten times worse. Lily never made excuses for her and as the years went by, she lost whatever love and respect she’d ever had for her sister and made sure others knew it. I’m surprised Harry survived to eleven, to be honest, let alone with enough control to escape becoming an Obscurial. And I’m working on filing charges against them as Harry’s godfather, now that my name is cleared. Does that sum it all up?”
Dumbledore looked like Sirius had taken a beater’s club to his head, staring at him in shock and a flash of fear.
“You didn’t take custody, did you?” the man asked almost without thought.
“No, though I offered. My own mental state is still in flux and my mind healer suggested a friend instead,” Sirius denied, making mental note to inform everyone that the tale they’d decided on was going to need to spread now. “But he’s with good people and has improved tremendously since that disaster in the graveyard, now that he’s getting the attention he needs from healers and mind healers to deal with the entire thing. Which should have been addressed immediately but wasn’t until the goblins got ahold of him. Infected slice on the arm, broken rib, nerve damage from a few Cruciatus? How exactly did you expect him to recover on his own with that? Especially after he’d been practically kidnapped from your very fingers by the one responsible for sending him to that nightmare?”
He cut himself off before he listed the rest of the injuries they’d discovered. Eir had managed to determine which were old enough to be left over from the confrontation with Voldemort and that list alone had Sirius’ blood boiling in anger…. To have everything else on top of it? It was a testament to Harry’s indominable spirit that he managed to hide it all and return to Privet Drive.
“He never said anything,” Dumbledore defended.
“Why would he?” Sirius snapped. “He spent his entire childhood surrounded by people who didn’t care if he was hurt. He learned young to just retreat and lick his wounds in private because no one would help. Did you think that went away when he got older?”
Sirius really wanted to continue, to rant at the bastard about how Harry probably had gotten even worse about admitting injuries with professors that ignored the signs of abuse. With yearly near-death experiences that were brushed off as no big deal. That he still did it now, even if he had people who were terrified for him constantly because they genuinely cared for him.
But he knew Arianna had her own plans for the man and he would not take the revenge away from his pup. She’d earned the right to put Dumbledore in his place and Sirius wouldn’t take that away.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting,” he practically snarled, Padfoot much more present than usual under his skin.
He may not be Remus, with a completely separate personality in Moony, but his instincts as Padfoot occasionally crossed over and he had to fight to prevent himself from trying to rip the manipulative bastard’s head off. He pushed past Dumbledore, letting the silencing spell dissipate, and made his way out of the chamber, the whispers behind him renewed at the black cloud of fury that followed him.
Not allowed to hex him, not allowed to hex him…
*****
Albus Dumbledore collapsed into his chair in his office at Hogwarts, weary from the events of the day. He could not fathom how he had missed such a frustrating woman, let alone for long enough for her to gain support in one of his most unquestioning and crucial pawns. It took quite a lot of effort to gain the trust of someone like Sirius Black. He was usually a wild card, but Dumbledore had managed to push him exactly where he needed him.
Only to find out the man was a true maverick. Uncontrollable and unpredictable.
He’d lost so much ground lately and it was starting to get on his last nerve. First with the cursed muggles letting Harry escape, then Sirius being truly freed from the charges that sent him to Azkaban when he’d most needed the man removed, and now this…
They’d both have to be dealt with. He could not afford to have Sirius gain control of Harry. Not now that Tom was back in a body. He needed the boy crushed. And he still didn’t know what had happened with the goblins that caused such a change in the usually easily manipulated Gryffindor. Either of them, really. And his plan to have Kingsley infiltrate whatever group of people Sirius had begun to conspire with had failed spectacularly. He’d lost another pawn in the attempt. One he wasn’t sure he could afford to lose. But Kingsley hadn’t returned and the very few rumors circulating through the Ministry was that Aurors were acting oddly. Had been for months. And with the return of Theseus Scamander, the revelation of Pettigrew? A great number of plans were starting to crumble. But if he could remove Sirius permanently from the board, it would help put a number back on track.
And once his godfather was dead, Harry would turn back to the only sympathetic and capable adult he’d ever known, no matter what had gotten the boy to start questioning him. He had no doubt he’d have to reapply most, if not all, of the spells and blocks he’d put on the boy, but it would be fine. It would not be so much time that he’d be unable to.
He’d get rid of that interfering lady just for spite. And to prevent what he had quickly figured out was a rather disturbingly effective stance of compromise. He could not allow the Wizengamot to listen to her in regard to anything, but especially to changing the laws regarding Lords and Ladies and creatures. He needed them where they were, and it had taken quite a long time to get them there. A long time and a number of deaths he would have preferred to avoid had there been any other way to get what he needed.
The fact that she’d made him look like the manipulative old bastard he was only had a passing relation to his sudden and desperate need to find a way to get rid of her.
And would explain easily how he missed the fact that he was mumbling aloud to the horrified, resigned, and furious ears of previous headmasters and headmistresses of a school he’d been in complete control of for almost a century. And how he forgot that, of all the paintings he’d spelled so the occupants couldn’t leave and thereby expose his secrets, there was one who’s family was known for being beyond paranoid enough to prevent such things. Even in a painting slated for a school.
*****
Phineas Black glared at the man he’d known as a student. And sneered in disgust as he kept mumbling to himself. If he didn’t need the information to share with a few concerned parties, he would have removed himself from this disgrace of a pureblood’s presence permanently many years ago.
But he had a duty to the school and its students, despite his reputation as the most hated Headmaster ever of Hogwarts. A duty he had taken seriously in life, much to the bemusement and sometimes horror of his family. A duty that burned with need to do something more, anything more. Even work with the overly dramatic, muggle loving, Black madness effected, Gryffindor descendent…. If only he could get the idiot boy to show up in Grimmauld again. And get rid of that horrendous Weasley woman before Walburga’s portrait went even barmier.
It was a sad day in history when his prejudiced bum was more levelheaded and concerned for the entire student body than the current headmaster…