Chapter 1
Voldemort rubbed his temples roughly, the task at hand required perfect precision, one wrong move and everything could blow up. No, he had to be extremely careful.
His forehead was starting to get a little damp. God-dammit, this was harder than anyone would have thought. Why did he have to burden himself with this? Well, actually, he knew why he had to burden himself with this. He couldn’t trust anyone else to understand what was needed. No, he couldn’t trust anyone else to do it correctly. If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself.
“And I can’t sit Pettigrew anywhere because Severus would snap if he even laid eyes on the rat. Bellatrix can’t be near me or I’ll end up cursing her, and yet she can’t be too far or she’ll get too distracted again. Rudolphus will be next to her, of course, he’s one of the few people who aren’t scared of her… Crabbe and Goyle will have to be next to each other, they don’t really get close to anyone else, maybe Nott can sit next to them.
“I’m not sure I even want Alekto to have a place at the table, she unnerves everyone else. Fuck, and Severus can’t be anywhere near Bellatrix because they hate each other, but Regu- No that won’t work because Regulus is a spy at the moment…Lucius can be near Severus and Narcissa doesn’t come to the meetings because she stays home with Draco, wait, It will be two days before Draco’s birthday, Lucius probably won't attend. Cyrus Zabini can’t attend because of his wife, Callidora, and their son Blaise, who will be a year and a half on the very day of the meeting.” After their last raid he had to update their seating arrangements as more issues had become painfully obvious.
He still couldn’t believe that so many of his death eaters had children so close together. Lucius and Narcissa had a baby, Callidora and Cyrus had a baby, The Notts had a baby, The Parkinson’s had a baby too. Everyone was getting pregnant and having a baby. He had to rearrange a lot of people, as Bellatrix was getting more and more annoyed that she wasn’t having a baby.
“Rabastan!” After looking back over his chart, he came to realize that he had forgotten about Rabastan LeStrange. However, it was easy to overlook, as the man could be sat next to just about anybody, so long as their name was not Bellatrix, as she still owed him money from five years ago apparently.
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It was four months later that Voldemort attacked the Potter family. Surprisingly, the scowl on his face as he murdered James Potter was not actually because of James Potter, it was because he had realized that he would have to rearrange the seating again. How annoying.
He made his way up the stairs, he needed to hurry up and get this over with. He really needed to get back so he could start on the seating chart again.
“Step aside, Lily Potter.” His voice was cold and his scowl worked to his own benefit, even though it had nothing to do with her at all. He wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing, he was only thinking about what to do with the empty chair that belonged to Cyrus Zabini. To be fair to his memory, he lasted longer than the first man to marry Callidora. Honestly, they had warned him, they had warned him a lot, she’s going to kill you, they had all said, and look, she did.
“Not Harry, anyone but Harry.”
“Step aside.” Why did I make that promise to Severus? Honestly, I really shouldn’t have. I promised I would try to spare the woman.
“Avada Kedavra,” it was not fault of mine if she wanted to die for her child, a noble death, but unnecessary. He turned towards the toddler, “You’ve caused great trouble for me, I have to rearrange everyone’s seats now. Not to mention the prophecy. Now, you must know that I don’t normally kill infants, nor do I usually believe in prophecies, but you must understand that I cannot take such a chance.” Voldemort justifying himself to a small child probably was quite the sight to see, after all, he was trying to reason with the child that the child's death was the only solution, and that the child was causing problems for him.
The inky haired infant just stared at him with teary eyes.
“Mu-mu,” the young child sobbed, Voldemort sighed and raised his wand once more, preparing to do one of the few things he actually had never done. Not that he knew he was going to do something he had never done, he only knew he was going to kill an infant, and while this was not the first time he had done so, he still didn’t really want to do it.
“Avada Kedavra.” it was said in a normal voice, for he had used the spell enough times that he did not have to yell it. He only had to say it. He was not prepared, however, for what happened next, and the very next thing he knew was that he was not in his body, and that his body no longer existed. He fled.
Now, Harry Potter on the other hand, felt extreme pain as something lodged itself into his head, and so he screamed, he cried, and he sought the comfort of whoever would come for him. Wormtail came, and wormtail left. Leaving him. But that was fine, because the infant never really liked him.
And then, Padfoot came, and Padfoot picked him up, and Padfoot was going to take him somewhere safe and sound.
“Pa’foo!” and his tears started to leave, because he had his Padfoot.
Sirius Black was having the worst night of his life. His best friend was dead and it was because of one of their other best friends, and the other one that didn’t know anything probably thought it was all his fault.
He knew his impulse control was non-existent, he knew that If there was anything he shouldn’t do, it was start to hunt down Peter right away. No matter how much he wanted to do it, he wouldn’t. Now, don’t think that was because of his impulse control. No, it had nothing to do with having any sort of control. The only thing that was keeping him from going after Peter was the fact that his recently orphaned Godson was clinging to him.
The only control that Sirius had was in the form of his Godson. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to get to the ministry as fast as he could. He would tell his boss everything. After all, he was an auror, and he would submit under veritaserum to prove that he had done nothing wrong. He was going to get legal custody of his Godson, even if he had to do some things he didn’t want to.
Hagrid showed up just as he was about to leave. What was Hagrid doing there? How did Hagrid know already?
“Sirius, Dumbledore wants me ta bring ‘im young ‘arry,” as if that would convince him to hand over his godson, no, he needed to keep his godson with him. It was important, because Harry was the last bit of family besides Remus that he had, and he was going to raise his Godson.
“You can tell him that I’ve got Harry, and that I am going to go tell the Aurors what happened. I’ve got him, he will be fine.” Hagrid hid his shock, but nodded. He understood that Sirius was Harry’s Godfather, and that James would have wanted Sirius to take Harry.
He left to tell Dumbledore that Harry was safe, and Sirius left to take Harry and himself to the ministry.
As soon as he burst into Amelia Bone’s office she knew something was wrong. He was holding the son of James Potter, and then she knew something was really wrong.
“Amelia, he got them. He got James and Lily. I don’t know what happened, but he tried to get Harry and I don’t know how but Harry survived. It was Peter, it was Peter who was the secret keeper. I’ll go under veritaserum. I will, but you have to make sure Harry’s alright, and don’t let Dumbledore take him. I know he means good, but sometimes he doesn’t always do the most reasonable things.” Sirius wouldn’t stop until Amelia promised that she would make sure Harry got treatment and was not able to be taken.
“I will call in a few other Aurors, and we will put you under veritaserum, we will bring in Bagnold too, just so she can’t spin things another way.” Sirius nodded, and Amelia called in a private healer and a few Aurors along with the Minister.
The minister administered the Veritaserum.
“What is your name?”
“Sirius Orion Black.” it was said in the blankest tone that any of them had ever heard from the man before them.
“It’s working.” Amelia’s declaration allowed the questions to begin.
“Were you the secret keeper of the Potters?”
“No.”
“Who was?”
“Peter Pettigrew.”
“Are you sound enough to take Harry Potter with you and to become his guardian?” They all knew that his family had a madness that ran through their blood.
“I will always be stable enough to take care of my Godson.” It was unnerving how emotionless that sentence was, but they knew it was just the affects of the potion.
“Are you in anyway loyal to Voldemort?”
“No.”
“What happened tonight?”
“I felt like something bad was going to happen, so I rushed over just to make sure that James, Lily, and Harry were fine. But by the time I got there James and Lily were dead and the house was a wreak. I rushed up the stairs to make sure Harry was okay. He was crying and his forehead was bleeding, but otherwise he was fine.
“I went to bring him here. Then Hagrid showed up, saying that Dumbledore requested that Harry be taken to him. I knew if I didn’t have Harry I was going to end up hunting down Peter, and Harry needed me, so I refused to give him Harry. He seemed to understand, and he left. After that I came straight here.” With that, the questioning was over. Amelia administered the antidote.
“We would like for both you and Harry to stay in the safest location you know of, Mr. Black. Is there anything we can do for you or Harry?” Bagnold was most sympathetic over what had happened to the man and the child.
Sirius Black thought of the safest location he knew that he would have access to at the moment and he wanted to beat his head against something. The safest location he knew about besides Hogwarts was a place that he didn’t want to go to. Not to mention he probably wouldn’t be welcome, but at least he knew that none of Voldemort’s followers would be there.
But he knew that he would have control over the situation. He didn’t want to admit it, but he would have to stop by Gringotts first. A place safer than Gringotts, safer than Hogwarts probably. But first he needed to do something he was supposed to do two years earlier. He was going to have to claim his Lordship over the most Ancient and Noble house of Black.
He sighed internally and looked at the people around him.
“No, I just need to go do something at Gringotts, and then I will head straight to the one place that nobody would think to look for both me and Harry.” And wasn’t that the truth? Nobody would look for him at Grimmauld place, nobody would look for him at his childhood home.
The Goblins were shocked that Lord Black had finally come to claim his Lordship. They had been sending him letters for over a year telling him that he needed to come and take his Lordship ring. He was the only one the ring would accept. He was technically the only one allowed to claim the Lordship. The former lord Black had left him as his heir. Arcturus had been waiting for his Grandson to take the title.
While the Goblins may have been shocked, it was nothing compared to how Walburga Black felt when Kreacher woke her up at two in the morning to tell her that her filthy blood traitor son was at the door with the Lordship ring on.
She sighed loudly as she made her way to the entryway of her home, the sight of her eldest son standing there with a baby in her arms.
“So you’ve finally decided to return home and claim your title as Lord of the family.” How anyone could look and sound so condescending while in a nightgown was beyond Sirius as he stared at his mother. She looked older than he remembered, but that was to be expected.
“Hello Mother. Don’t think I’ve done this because I’ve finally grown up. I haven’t grown, and I wish that I didn’t have to claim my Lordship. I’m only here to protect my Godson.” She looked at the infant in his arms with something close to disdain. Of course her son was still tangled up with the supposed ‘light’ side. Of course he hadn’t actually seen the errors in his behaviour. But at least he was home.
“I don’t care what your reasoning is. You’ve finally claimed your rightful title and you better act like Lord Black. Now, go clean up, Kreacher will tend to the infant.” His sneer matched hers as she said that, and for once in a very long time, you could see just how much he looked like her.
“I will not let Kreacher touch my godson.” Anybody that had met both Walburga and Sirius Black would be able to tell you that the two were too much alike, and that is why they always but heads. They were two of the most stubborn people that anyone had met. Although, if they were in the room, you would claim that they were complete opposites, if only to appease them.
“Then I will tend to him, but you are going to go clean up.” She wasn’t going to budge, the infant needed the care of someone who wasn’t cover in soot and blood and dirt. The child needed to be fed and put to bed, and Sirius needed to wash up.
“You’re no better. You wouldn’t know how to comfort a child if the exact instructions were written on it’s forehead.” His glare was icy, and he wasn’t letting go of his Godson any time soon.
“Sirius Orion Black, you Will go and get into the shower while Kreacher makes food for your Godson. I will hold said infant and make sure he is absolutely comfortable. You may be an adult, but I am still your mother, and you will listen to me right this instance.” Walburga got close enough to jab him in the chest as she said so, though, not very hard as he was holding an infant. She was shorter than him now, and probably seemed less threatening than she once had, but she was still a force to be reckoned with.
“Don’t think you’ve won. I’m only doing this because I’d prefer that my godson didn’t get covered in soot.” This was one of the few times that he would ever back down, and it was only for the benefit of his godson.
Said godson was observing the woman that Padfoot had called Mother. As if he could tell her intentions were true, his face lit up slightly after a few moments of watching her. He even giggled slightly as he was passed over to her.
“Pa’foo mu!” It sounded as if he were cheering about meeting his Padfoot’s mother. Walburga looked at the infant in her hands for a moment before looking back at her son.
“I see he’s quite intelligent for his age. I suppose that’s for the best, I’m too old to be able to handle idiots. I met Narcissa’s brat just a little while ago, and he obviously got none of the Black family intellect.” Walburga’s face nearly twisted as if she swallowed a lemon, but she restrained herself, taking in account the small child in her arms.
“Dear Merlin, let us hope he doesn’t have the Malfoy hair.” He thought he had muttered it low enough that she wouldn’t hear him properly, but she did.
“Yes, I hoped as much before I had met him, alas, our prayers have been left unanswered. Even if he does have any features from Narcissa, the hair overpowers them beyond hope. Now, go bathe.” She carried the young boy through the house until she reached the sitting room, not even bothering to check if her son was doing as he was told.
“Kreacher!” he popped in as soon as he heard his name.
“Yes Mistress? What can Kreacher do for you?” He was basically grovelling at her feet as she held the Potter boy.
“Prepare something soft for the child. Perhaps something Regulus or Sirius would have enjoyed at the boys age.” With a very low bow, Kreacher did as he was told.
“Hello little Potter, I suppose you’ve been through a rough night. Don’t you worry, Kreacher will have something for you in no time, and then you can go to sleep.” If anyone had seen it occurring, they would surely die of shock. Walburga Black was comforting a small child, and hopefully nobody would ever know about it. She didn’t mind if they knew that she had comforted her own children, but this wasn’t her child. This child was a Potter. That made a difference in how she was supposed to feel. Though, if her son properly adopted him, he would be her very first and probably only grandchild.
Maybe it would be able to even itself out like that.
“Your father was as much of a Potter as possible. And Your Godfather, while he may not realize it, is a Black, through and through. He can deny it all he wants, but a true Black never bows to anybody’s will but his own. Especially Not a hopped up half-blood, not anybody. And he may not see it, but he bows to no-one. I wonder who you will take after, Little one.”