As Black As They Say
“I find it increasingly difficult to give a damn about The Order.” Sirius said coldly, blue eyes as hard as ice. Across from him, Albus Dumbledore studied him with twinkling eyes.
“I understand your frustration on the matter, Sirius, however we must continue to—“
“We must continue to nothing,” Sirius interrupted, his voice level despite the rage bubbling deep inside. “Harry has been missing since June. It’s been two months and The Order has done nothing—“
“My boy, what would you have us do?” Dumbledore cut across him.
“Anything would be better than what has been thus far. Need I remind you, Albus, that Harry was taken under your watch? Thanks to your negligence and insistence on competing in that farce of a tournament?”
“Lord Voldemort took Harry, Sirius. The only one that is to blame is him,” Dumbledore sighed sadly, but his eyes shone with anger that Sirius did not miss.
“Indeed. If only someone with the power to do so had taken initiative. Forgive me, but that seems to be a recurrent trend,” Sirius’s voice could not have been colder. When Albus remained silent, Sirius rose from his chair and exited the headmaster’s office, unable to find comfort even in the familiar magic that overtook his senses, reminding him that he was home. Hogwarts would always be a home to him, an escape from brutality, a refuge from the storms that were destined to plague his life.
The term was set to start in just a few days, but his godson wouldn’t be here to start his fifth year. Sirius strode through the corridors on autopilot. His legs carried him to his quarters with a familiarity borne from countless nights crouched under James’ invisibility cloak.
Sirius shut the door to his private quarters and finally, finally let himself feel the emotions that he had so neatly packaged up to get through his meeting with Dumbledore.
Somewhere in the room, glass shattered. A warm breeze filtered through the room and brought with it the deep, earthy scent of the Forbidden Forest. Sirius waved his wand impatiently, repairing the window and bedside mirrors.
“Damn Dumbledore,” He muttered, striding to the cabinet beside his desk. He poured a healthy measure of firewhisky and threw himself into the seat at his desk.
Term started in three days and Sirius found himself in a state of frustrated lesson revision, determined to prepare the next generation of wixen up-to-speed on defense. Determined to prepare them for the reality that faced them upon leaving the supposed safety of Hogwarts. Determined to prevent the loss of anyone else.
The last two months had been a whirlwind of misery and stunted victory. Following Harry’s disappearance during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, Sirius was spurred into action, finally given the push to reclaim his title and lordship in order to leverage it with the goblins to work to prove his innocence. Thanks to some behind the scenes string pulling, Sirius was finally given his day in court, administered Veritaserum, cleared of all charges, and granted a hefty restitution (not that he needed it thanks to the Black family vaults).
It was during this trial that Dumbledore admitted to knowing both of Sirius’s innocence and lack of trial since that fateful Halloween night 14 years ago. Due to his position within the Wizengamot, Dumbledore has an obligation to uphold justice within the ministry and this blunder was a dark stain on his legacy. Clearly he never expected it to come to light. Rather than pressing formal charges, as Amelia Bones assured him he could, Sirius struck a deal with Dumbledore: he would refrain from pursuing legal action in exchange for a teaching contract for the DADA Professor position, with the added caveat that Gringott’s curse breakers must do a full sweep of the school in order to find whatever curse was placed on the position and remove it.
The fact that no one, especially The Great Albus Dumbledore, has ever thought to do that was endlessly grating to Sirius. Was it willful ignorance that ran this school? The decision to involve Gringotts turned out to be a good one, despite Albus’s lack of cooperation. Not only did they find and break the curse on the DADA position, but they found countless cursed and lethal artifacts.
With all of his requisites met, Sirius settled into his position with enthusiasm. Thrilled to be back in the public eye, firmly seated in his place of honor within the Wizengamot as Lord Black with countless noblemen and women clamoring for his favor. Thrilled to be a Hogwarts professor, part of the institute that meant so much to him. Thrilled to be a free man.
None of that, however, could fill the gaping hole in his chest. Harry, his Harry, was held somewhere at the mercy of Voldemort. Two months. Sirius could only hope that his imagination would turn out to be far worse than the reality Harry has been living. For Sirius knew Harry was living.
While other wizards aligned with The Light had qualms over using certain shades of magic, Sirius held no such reservations. It is with the knowledge that his blood magic held true that Sirius was able to live on and build a solid foundation upon which Harry can return to. And return he would. The following night will be a full moon which will allow Sirius to perform the most powerful tracking ritual he could find; the fact that it is also the darkest is a mere coincidence. None of the other countless tracking spells were able to give him any information other than the fact that Harry was still somewhere on the continent.
He would have performed it the previous moon, but was being held in St Mungos undergoing extensive treatment for Dementor sickness.
With a sigh, Sirius finished his drink. His lesson plans were as good as they were going to get. In fact, they were excellent if he were to give an opinion. He cast a quick tempus charm and swore under his breath.
As true as his words to Dumbledore were, he still attended every Order meeting. He still wanted to put an end to Voldemort once and for all, he still adamantly opposed blood supremacy, and he still opposed senseless killing. He was, however, done with trusting Albus Dumbledore, done with supporting The Light to the detriment of the other wixen factions, and done with playing nice with those who don’t deserve it.
After all, he is the Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.