Mind Matters
*****
Harry screamed in his mind the moment Dumbledore forced his eyes open and locked gaze with him.
After all the lessons from the summer, he knew what that meant and he absolutely refused to let the man in. He’d had enough of others in his head with Riddle and his bloody horcrux. He was not going to let the manipulative old goat have free reign.
It was also known he would have little chance keeping him out. The Fidelius would keep a lot safe, but he needed to hide the things not protected already.
If only Aunt Queenie had had more time to train him…
He quickly shoved any memory he thought important into a cage in the back of his mind, surrounded by the memories he really didn’t want to keep. Any reference to the Americans he’d met over the summer, discussions with Ragnok, his twins, were buried under the memory of Fake-Moody using the Imperious on him so many times until he could throw it off, of the graveyard, of lessons with Snape from years previous, of his time with the Dursleys. Any painful memory he could think of ended up buried in a back corner of his mind, adding layers to the cage.
And all before Dumbledore got into his mind.
He felt the moment his mental shields finally caved and he did scream then, body bind or not.
*****
Phineas glared when boy started screaming, almost wishing the phoenix had managed to escape weeks ago so it could help. Only a few would actually scream when their mind was invaded and even then only those with impressive mental shields.
Phineas wanted nothing more than to retrieve assistance for the boy, but he knew he would not return in time. Now, he must witness and report.
The pair were still for only a few minutes, Potter’s screams tapering off after a moment, before Dumbledore pulled away, frustration clear in every line of his old body.
“I would know who has you under a Fidelius, my boy,” the man muttered to himself. The former Headmaster Black tensed even further.
He’d grown fond of this boy over the years, even more so over the last few months, and it worried him that someone had cast a Fidelius in the boy’s mind. That was tricky magic to manage and if done wrong, had the distinct possibility of causing the mind to break. Since he was still coherent and mostly the same, Phineas could only conclude that whomever had cast the spell had been very skilled in it. And those wizards were few and far between. Unless the goblins had done it. Either way, at least it kept the Potter boy somewhat safe from the bastard of a headmaster currently in charge of him.
“I will need to do more research before I can risk another attempt,” Dumbledore continued to mutter. “I do not want to hurt you if I can help it, but I must know what you’re hiding, especially with that woman having any access to you. I cannot allow you to be free yet, my dear Harry.”
And with that, he shot a quick set of spells at the boy, repairing the broken nose, banishing any traces of blood from his clothes and skin, and removing all memory of the encounter. Another at McGonagall to remove her memory of the meeting as well, and he revived both, ushering them carelessly to the door. Phineas watched in concern as they both stumbled drunkenly out the door.
He waited a few minutes for Dumbledore to unfreeze the paintings and then a few minutes more to see if he’d start rambling to himself again. When he remained silent, seated at his desk and staring into the flames of the fireplace, Phineas turned and fled his frame.
*****
“I almost wish the insane man would visit again,” she admitted glumly, leaning against the frame of her painting and staring at her husband. “It’s dreadfully dull again.”
“My dear, that is positively ridiculous,” her brother-in-law chastised from beside her. “I would not wish a visit from him on anyone, as it always leads to us being too incensed to remember we cannot leave our frames and leading to at least one of us, usually myself, spending a bit of time flat on the floor when we manage to knock ourselves off the wall…”
“If you had any sort of control of yourself, that would not be such a consistent problem, brother,” her husband said with a teasing sneer.
“Oh, and you, oh master of planning? What have you come up with after all this time?”
“Wait and see,” her husband whispered with a soft smile.
She froze when she felt a familiar presence invade her painting.
“You are terrible,” she muttered, to both her husband and her guest.
“I know,” they said in unison, smirking when her brother-in-law started sputtering in indignation.
“Now, why have you visited?” her sister-in-law asked.
“I am only stopping by on my way to my other painting,” he reported instantly. “I cannot watch that manipulative bastard one more minute. And coming from me, that should be more than clear enough of how low that man has stooped. It’s time to call in reinforcements. I can only hope my descendant is actually home and not wherever he’s been disappearing to lately. I cannot find the place and I have to know in order to visit any paintings in the place.”
“What’s happened?” her sister demanded.
*****
“He forcefully used Legilimency on a student. After attacking his own deputy. Then wiped both their memories,” Phineas reported, running a hand through his traditionally long hair in agitation.
Three gasps followed the words and he locked eyes with the one who didn’t.
They both knew Legilimency on a student was forbidden, except in very specific cases, and both knew they’d had to perform it themselves, to get details for something they’d never ask a child to explain. The others had been protected from that duty, very obviously. But they both knew Dumbledore wouldn’t care if the Potter boy had been raped. He would never use the skill to actually help capture the culprit. If anything, they suspected he’d use the information to ensure the culprit got away, if not be allowed to repeat the horrendous act.
“If he’s not in Gimmauld,” the woman he temporarily shared a frame with said, “try one of our properties. If the boy is what we think, he should have access and, from your stories, he seems the kind to offer one to his godfather to allow the man an escape from his childhood home. Especially if he hates it as much as you believe.”
Phineas nodded and then left, to reappear in the frame he’d installed in his office. Once again, he was glad he’d been petty enough to use a permanent sticking charm on it to keep it there. He did regret giving the idea to that witch, though...
“Sirius Orion Black!” he screamed into the quiet house.
He ignored the fact that he’d managed to wake his granddaughter. Noise was noise and someone would respond.
The shrieks of the madwoman died off and he waited for someone to come to his frame. He’d rather not visit the various relatives hanging on the walls. He would rather not claim most of them as his blood for various reasons but foremost that they were idiots. When no one appeared, he shouted again, waking the woman yet again, and then stepped into her frame.
“Who in Merlin’s name is waking you?!” a voice demanded as it rounded the corner.
Phineas ignored the indignant sputterings of his granddaughter to face the man.
“That would be me when no one came at my call,” he said with a sneer, glaring at the woman when she started in on insulting the man’s heritage and curse.
“Former Headmaster?” the wolf asked, as if unsure he was who he appeared to be.
“Yes, you fool, now where is my rebellious descendant?” he demanded.
“At the bank,” the wolf answered promptly then blinked in confusion. As if he was uncertain he should have said so quickly.
“Get him here, now,” he ordered. “I have information that cannot wait and I will only tell him.”
The wolf eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and heading to the nearest fireplace.
Phineas almost followed him, flittering through paintings as he hadn’t done in years due to his disgust at his various relatives, but decided having his granddaughter speechless in her own painting was far more satisfying.
*****
Sirius rushed through the halls of Gringotts, thankful for once that Molly was busy somewhere other than Grimmauld. While normally he hated that she liked to go on trips to various families and businesses to rant at them, it was to their benefit today. Typically, he wished she’d just hole up at the place and stop doing damage to the Light’s image, but today, he really didn’t want to try and work around her. After all, he doubted Phineas Black would retire to a more private space than the front hall. In his mother’s portrait…
“Remus, I’m here,” he called into the fire before he stepped through.
“He’s been silent since he ordered me to get you,” his mate muttered. “If you weren’t escorting the Lady back to the healers for a quick checkup before she went to her home, I have no doubt he’d still be ranting for me to find you.”
“Well, then, let’s see what my ancestor wants,” Sirius muttered, again showing that he could be deadly serious when he wanted to be.
He strode confidently through the short hall from the front parlor and stood in front of the portrait he really wanted to burn.
Walburga was glaring at her visitor but silent, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“Try and curse me again in my own house and I’ll see that your portrait is permanently disfigured,” the dark haired, hard man threatened.
“I still see no reason to involve the blood-traitor,” the woman who gave birth to him sneered, eyes unflinchingly locking on his.
“He’s more of a Black than you were, child,” Phineas snarled.
“While I don’t hate to interrupt, Remy said it was urgent?” Sirius asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“You need to get to Hogwarts, now,” Phineas snapped. “I will explain when you get here, but you are needed, preferably before the boy’s family hears what’s happened.”
Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus, asking silently in their bond if he had any clarification…. After all, there were a number of boys they were currently looking out for that might need assistance.
When Remus just shrugged, Sirius turned back to his ancestor. Phineas Black had a reputation as Headmaster that most would call dark. But Sirius had sat dutifully below the man’s portrait as a child, listening to stories and lessons the man felt he needed. Dark the man was, but truly black? No. And he’d been acting as spy in the Headmaster’s office for decades. Even if only for himself.
If Phineas Black said they were needed, and risked Walburga overhearing? They needed to go.
“We can’t get through the wards,” Sirius decided to point out, just as a test.
“You and I both know that’s dragon dung, brat,” Phineas said with the vaguest hint of a smirk.
Sirius gave a lopsided grin and nodded. “Will we need anyone else?”
“I would suggest a healer,” Phineas advised, expression turning dark again. “And perhaps an Auror.”
Sirius stiffened in sudden fear. “Rem,” he breathed.
“I’ll call Theseus and Eir,” Remus agreed instantly, already making his way back to the fireplace.
*****
Phineas nodded in approval, then walked to the edge of the painting as he made his way to his next portrait. Then paused and turned to his granddaughter.
“Remember, bint,” he said with a sneer, talking over her instant protests. “Blood-traitor you may have labeled him. But Lord of this family and master of this house he is. And he’s the last of the main Black line,” no need to point out the familiar boy he’d noticed in the Chamber. “Our blood dies and our family goes to the next closest relative. A Malfoy. Remember that the next time you question his abilities, associates, and blood. He may hate you, with reason, but he will not dismantle our history simply because his husband believes his name is worth more.”
He smirked when he disappeared. He’d have to have the boy obtain a still from his memory of the woman’s face to place in front of his portrait. Her expression was one he’d enjoy for a while.
*****
Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose the moment his great-grandfather finally made his exit…. There was no hope of keeping Walburga out of the loop now. She’d badger him constantly for information in among her regular insults. If they didn’t get worse now…. He didn’t give her a chance to rally and begin the interrogation now, though. A wave of his hand had the curtain snapping shut to her indignant protests.
“Theseus and Eir will meet us at the Shack,” Remus reported as he joined him in the hall, voice dropping a little when he noticed the closed curtain.
“Well, that’s good, at least,” he muttered as he quickly bounded up the stairs to the study he just knew Phineas was waiting for them in. “Stupid manipulative relatives…”
“What’d he do?” Remus asked as he panted to keep up.
“Handed my mum her knickers,” Sirius said with a huff.
“No, I reminded her of her place in the Black family,” Phineas denied. “Too long have I allowed her leeway in her slurs. While I agree with some of them, we are almost all Slytherins and therefore should be above such verbal ignorance. We make no progress in our goals by insulting those around us so obviously.”
Sirius just rolled his eyes and glared at the portrait. “And piquing her curiosity before disappearing was the way to go?”
“I must have my entertainment somewhere,” Phineas said with a soft chuckle that surprised the Marauders. “And it is no longer available at the school.”
His voice turned ice cold at the mention of Hogwarts.
Sirius nodded and gestured for the man to explain. When he was done, Sirius was struggling to contain his magic and the various books and knickknacks in the room were rattling.
“Master Siri?” a timid voice asked from the doorway.
Sirius growled but said nothing to the small form of Kreacher.
*****
“We’re going to the school, Kreacher,” Remus advised, not taking his eyes off his mate.
“Visiting Master Reggie?” Kreacher asked hopefully.
“Ah, so the boy is still alive,” Phineas said smugly. “I wondered why he was wandering the Chamber of Secrets. I feared he was an Inferi.”
“No, he’s alive,” Remus agreed. “We’ve just been keeping it very quiet. Only a handful know.”
“Good,” Phineas agreed, applauding slowly. “At least your Gryffindor tendencies don’t override caution.”
“Never!” Sirius snarled. “Never would I endanger Reggie.”
“Only leave him behind with that bint of a woman who you call mother,” Phineas pointed out.
“I WAS SIXTEEN!” Sirius bellowed.
“And we don’t have time for this,” Remus reminded, wrapping strong arms around his mate to prevent the man from tearing apart the portrait of the man who’d warned them. “Theseus and Eir will be there soon and we don’t have time to get into this now. Siri, we have to go see what’s wrong. We have to get to Harry. Don’t let him be right about us.”
Remus hated doing it, but he had to remind Sirius how little Harry thought someone cared for him. How he just expected no one to come if he needed them. And, while he’d made progress since the summer, he was still a scared kid hoping for rescue.
He would not leave their pup alone again.