Friend Since Birth

*****
Sirius fidgeted in his seat. While the Wizengamot was not yet in session, Dumbles was about to call it to order and they couldn’t risk a grand entrance again. If Arianna didn’t get here soon, she’d be locked out and have to wait for the next session in a month. While he wasn’t too worried about losing ground on their plans, since he was default proxy for all the Potter siblings’ votes should Arianna or Harry be unable to attend, it would look strange for her to make such an entrance to the British wizarding world only to disappear just as suddenly. It would prompt people asking questions they weren’t ready for. And he was furious he’d been otherwise occupied when she saw Eir.

“If you do not desist in bouncing your knee, Black, I will have no qualms about spelling you to your chair, Lord or not,” the familiar voice of Lord Septimus Weasley broke into his brooding. He refused to admit to pouting.

As it was, it was only long forgotten lessons on decorum that stopped him from falling out of his seat in shock. Then he was scrambling to his feet to greet the lord properly, bowing deeply to the elder.

“Greetings, Lord Weasley,” he intoned.

“Lord Black,” the elderly former redhead greeted stoically. “And where might your young lover be? And your twin consorts?”

Sirius instantly straightened, a glare on his face and acidic words on his tongue to deny yet again the horrible rumors that cursed Skeeter woman had dared print. Only to have to forcibly swallow them at the amused smirk on the man’s face.

“I have little doubt the Lords Prewett are quite happy with their bondmate, if she survived as well as they did,” he explained with a chuckle. “And the young lady who accompanied you is just a touch too young, even for a man praised as a very successful flirt his entire schooling and the years after. Also, too female if my sources are correct on your most recent preference.”

Sirius sputtered. The soft laugh from the public galley warranted the poisonous glare he shot his mate, but Lord Weasley’s smirk only morphed into a softer smile.

“I see they were right,” Lord Weasley commented.

“I’d be very interested in who your source is, Lord Weasley,” he said, voice as even as he could manage with his anger and worry. “As far as I was aware, it was not common knowledge.”

“Oh, it’s not,” the lord denied, gesturing to the chairs they would be occupying for a while. “And it’s Septimus, Lord Black. If my source is correct, we’ll be spending significant time together in the near future and it has been many years since people have called me Lord Weasley so much.”

“Sirius, then,” he said, flopping back into his chair. He may be using his training more than ever before, but he refused to daintily sit in any chair. Not even his Lord Seat. “And you still didn’t answer my question about your source.”

“Didn’t I?” Septimus asked, mischief twinkling in his eye. “I do believe you have yet to ask a question of me.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes but then laughed. “No, I did not. I suppose I still need time to get back into the war of words most lords play better than they breathe.”

“I would suggest you brush up on your verbal subtleties,” Septimus cautioned. “I hear our world’s about to get knocked arse over tea kettle. And it would behoove you to be prepared. No reason to give the vultures leverage.”

Sirius grumbled but nodded, glad for once that he’d spent time with Charlus and Fleamont Potter going over alliances after he’d escaped from his parents. The pair of Potter lords had introduced him to the old guard and made sure he could treat them properly if he should ever need act as proxy. Since it was unlikely he’d take up his current title.

“I don’t think my behavior will do much to deter them, even if I was the perfect lord,” Sirius denied, crossing his arms and shooting a quick glare around the room.

“No, but it will prevent you from alienating your allies and insulting someone who could be swayed to your side,” Septimus pointed out. “My understand of the situation is that the more allies you have, the better the outcome.”

“This source is very well informed,” Sirius hissed. “If I ask, will you tell me who it is?”

“Only if you’ll tell me why you have quite a number of people included in a Fidelius.”

Sirius froze and he could instantly feel Remus’ concern over their bond. He was prevented from answering, though, by the arrival of Arianna even as Dumbledore made his way to his chair to call the session to order. She was garbed in her standard dragonhide dueling robes, this set a deep purple that bordered black. Her embroidered shirt peaked out along the edges and sported delicate dragonflies that darted across the fabric, the dragonhide vest neatly tucked into her trousers. Sturdy boots covered her feet.

But what instantly had him on his feet was how she leaned against Fabian, Gideon and Artair only a few steps behind as the group made their way slowly to him.

He muttered a curse under his breath even as he hurried to take her free side to help her to her seat. Septimus was only a step behind.

*****
Gideon instantly pushed himself in front of the pair rushing towards them as the group made their slow way to their seats from the previous session. Sirius almost slammed into him, but he would not risk the girl’s health to soothe her godfather in front of so many witnesses. His healer’s training kicked in to urge him to allow the least stress for his charge. It was the only reason Eir had released her so soon after healing. Not only that, but the way Artair tensed beside him proved he’d chosen right. Artair was on a hair trigger as it was and he had no doubt the guard would not hesitate to put the Lord Black on the ground again.

Ragnok had not hesitated to fill them all in on the events surrounding the rescue of the lady. Including all the nitty gritty of it.

“Sirius, not now,” he growled, pushing the energetic man back. “After.”

“I expect a full report,” his friend hissed.

“Relax, Sirius,” Arianna chided. “I’ve no doubt my healer will gleefully report all the ways I’m an idiot. At volume. Again,” she muttered.

A chuckled startled them enough that Artair had his sword partially drawn before Gideon could stop him.

“Lord Weasley,” Gideon greeted his sister’s father-in-law.

“And who might you be?” the man asked, eyeing Artair with a bemused smirk. Gideon would have thought him oblivious to the potential danger, but he caught the quick glance to the knight’s hand on his sword. And saw the way the elderly man gripped his cane tightly, likely holding his wand.

“Artair is my guard,” Arianna explained even as they followed her slow progress to her chair. “And at the moment, overly protective.”

“With reason,” the Scotsman growled. “And the only one capable of following you to your seat as your Captain of the Guard.”

“Didn’t stop you assigning half the guard to either the public galley or to join the Aurors at the entrances,” Arianna grumbled.

“And as I’ve said multiple times now, you are allowed to whine, but not refuse them,” Artair snapped.

“Light your wand if you saw me refuse them,” Arianna snapped, glaring at them.

It took Gideon a moment to contain his laughter at the expression on Lord Weasley’s face. Or the way the rest of the hall seemed intent on eavesdropping without notice. As if this little snit wasn’t organized and allowed. If Arianna really wanted to privately argue with her guard, she would have thrown up a privacy shield or used her necklace. Her privacy necklace only worked when she willed it and at the moment, it was keyed to keep her real identity secret and all other information she specifically allowed known.

He sorely wanted to get his hands on that necklace to research how it did what it did, but he knew goblins well enough to refrain from asking.

“Perhaps you would like to take your seats,” Dumbledore’s voice interjected.

“Perhaps you would like to remember that we are Lords and Ladies,” Arianna snapped at the old manipulative bastard. “Forget yourself again, Chief Warlock, and I’ll see what legal avenues have been ignored for your overfamiliarity with us.”

Even dead on her feet, she managed to sneer and put the man in his place. Gideon longed for the day his own habits around his former Headmaster went away. Even with the cleanses, many were having issues disrespecting the man. They were no longer loyal or spelled to hate him, but Gideon was aware that more than half the rescues from St. Mungos and most of the Aurors he’d spoken with still saw the man as their Headmaster and sometimes professor. And it rankled being blatantly disrespectful to him.

Granted, Sirius was the exception, but he had years of practice with combating authority figures.

Add in his absolute loathing of the Headmaster now and Dumbledore was lucky Arianna and Remus were able to reign in the notoriously volatile man. Azkaban had only made it worse, from what Gideon had observed.

“This is going to be a long session,” he muttered under his breath as they all settled in now that the standoff between Dumbledore and Arianna had eased.

*****
The arguments about Artair staying lasted all of a moment before someone demanded they review the rules. Arianna sat fuming as Umbridge primly and slowly flipped through the large tomb of Wizengamot bylaws. It would have taken only a moment for her to list off the section, page, and line of the rule that permitted her guard to stand by her chair. Artair could quote it by heart, smug that he’d managed to find it in his continued efforts to always be by her side, but he was not allowed to speak unless casting spells to defend her.

Her patience wasn’t as deep as it usually was and she itched to snap her jaws down on the woman that was making her brother’s life miserable and now was taking her sweet time to find a law that counter Arianna’s plans.

There wasn’t one.

But Arianna was waiting for someone other than her or her allies to demand the toad get a move on.

Lucius was not cleared to join them, so the Malfoy lord was absent. Arianna knew a few were looking for him while others seemed unsurprised. She knew Remus was taking notes again, though minus Moody, and she hoped he spotted the ones that seemed almost pleased by the absent lord.

“As captivating as this little tantrum is,” a familiar voice called into the hall. Arianna turned in surprise to see Theseus standing towards the back of the room. His robes were clean and not what he’d been wearing when she’d left in him in Gringotts. They spoke of the heritage the brothers rarely acknowledged. Both were more comfortable in the more mundane fashions, a carry-over from spending so long in America, she theorized, where wizarding fashions mirrored mundane much more. To see him here, speaking in front of a group of magicals they knew were a mixed potion of ally and enemy? It filled her with hope. With piercing eyes, her uncle surveyed the astonished magicals around him for a moment before continuing. “Perhaps we should table the discussion of the rules and bylaws of having a guard here and vote on a one-time exception until it can be determined for sure?”

“Theseus, my boy!” Dumbledore greeted cheerily, pleased surprise on his face.

Arianna gritted her teeth at the man.

“Albus, my boy!” Arianna snapped.

She really had no patience today.

“Now, my dear,” Dumbledore began, only to be cut off by the look on Arianna’s face and the tense stance of Artair. “Apologies, Lady Aiaia,” he continued. “But I’ve known most of these good lords and ladies since they were school children.”

“I. Do. Not. Care,” she bit out. “We are all adults deciding laws and passing judgment on a population. While others may not mind, I guarantee not everyone in this room is comfortable with you belittling them.”

From the various grunts of approval, she was not wrong. She made mental note to sic Tina on any laws that dictated proper decorum and address in the Wizengamot. As an outsider, she’d find the real laws, not traditions.

“Back to my suggestion?” Theseus asked casually, valiantly ignoring the spat in favor of focusing them.

“Now, see here, Mr. Scamander,” Umbridge started in her sickly-sweet voice.

“Lord,” another man spoke up. Arianna recognized him as the elderly man Sirius had been speaking with earlier.

“Lord Scamander,” Umbridge said, much less sweet and bordering on angry, “the rules need to be upheld. We cannot simply allow an armed person on the floor of the Wizengamot.”

“As I see it,” the man continued, speaking over whatever point Theseus was about to make. “We are all armed, with wands that would put any traditional muggle weapon to shame. If his presence was going to be denied, why would the lady not simply leave him outside, as I suspect she did previously? Also, why insist he be present now? What changed? As for the rules, those clearly state that anything can be allowed if all members present allow for it, baring murder or major injury.”

Arianna had no idea who this man was, though he reminded her strongly of a certain bunch of redheads, but she approved of his blunt way of speaking.

“Surely you cannot be asking us to allow an armed warrior into the session, Septimus!” one of the older members demanded from the traditionally light side of the room.

“I say we simply make this easier by voting to allow it this once,” Septimus denied. “We will take the time between now and the next session to determine if it will be permitted later. But I for one have little desire to continue debating something that would easily be decided with a short vote. After all, these are strained times and I suspect the lady has news to report that will make them more difficult. Denying her additional protection seems wrong.”

Arianna smirked at the variety of faces around them. But her favorite was by far Dumbledore’s. He seemed to be trying to remain the doting grandfather he portrayed to the world while concealing what she could only imagine was fury.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Lord Weasley,” Theseus said smugly, sitting back in the chair he’d claimed.

“So, Chief,” the newly named Septimus Weasley prompted, looking at Dumbledore. “Shall we call for a vote on allowing Lady Aiaia’s Captain of the Guard to remain at her side for this one Wizengamot session, pending review of laws for future ones?”

Arianna could see the gears whirling behind Dumbledore’s eyes but he seemed to come to the conclusion that arguing right now would be ill-advised.

The vote was quick and almost unanimous. Only Dumbledore, Umbridge, and a few others fought it.

Once he was official, Artair simply settled into a deceptively relaxed stance to the left of her chair. She had a feeling only the Prewetts and Sirius realized he was putting himself between her and the easiest path to Dumbledore. Whether to protect her from the meddling bastard or protect him from her, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Now, let us move into the business of the day,” Dumbledore announced.

Arianna subtly rolled her eyes at the dismissal.

*****
Sirius would not admit he fled as soon as the session was over. Or that it had anything to do with his need to contain his laughter.

But Arianna seemed to realize anyway and Remus met him in the hallway with a smirk that showed he could feel Sirius’ glee across their bond.

“That went well,” Remus commented dryly as he matched Sirius’ pace. They had to get to the entrance hall before the others so they could warn the goblins of the incoming thunderstorm that was Arianna.

She was pissed. Right pissed.

And Sirius was gleeful about it.

Leave it to Dumbledore to piss the woman off enough that sparks of her magic managed to manifest in the Wizengamot hall. A place so spelled against such things that it should have been impossible. Then again, this was the woman that apparated out of Hogwarts’ wards into Gringotts’.

And insinuating that Harry was going dark in an official Wizengamot meeting, then implying that Arianna obviously was a dark witch intent on swaying the political atmosphere they’d cultivated for generations would do it. Despite a rather short explanation of her capture and being held by Voldemort that she allowed them to see via a courtroom pensive, Sirius knew a few of those present had believed the man’s word. Others seemed more interested in how she’d dealt with the returned dark lord. Fudge only protested for a moment before her glare silenced his continued denials of Voldemort’s return.

Sirius was actually surprised she’d not literally exploded at the man and had instead only ignored him in favor of providing cool evidence to the contrary for every point Dumbles made about her.

Bringing Umbridge into the argument was probably not the headmaster’s best idea.

If Arianna wasn’t literally clinging to her control of her magic, he’d be even more bouncy. Not that the Lord Black was ever bouncy.

She’d earned a lot of respect today and more than one Head had approached her or one of them while they made their way from the hall, requesting a meeting with her outside the public halls of the Wizengamot.

“Come on, Moony!” he crowed as he maneuvered past Ministry employees in his efforts to get to the floo or an apparation point. “We’ve got things to do and a pup to call!”

The pair missed the questioning gaze of one Arthur Weasley following their rather frantic and excited path through the upper levels of the Ministry.