Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Chapter 1: Prologue

October 1963

Arcturus bolted upright, awake and heart pounding within one breath and another; the knowledge that something was very wrong was as real to him as the bed he was lying in.

Next to him, Melania sat in a similar state, her pale blue eyes wide and panicked, staring at the bedroom wall in front of them unseeing as she used her Guide gifts to seek the answer to the wrongness on the spirit plane.  “Orion…the boys…” she whispered.

Their son and their grandsons. 

Their heirs.    

His Guide turned and looked at him, horror blanching her face.

Their spirit animals blinked into view.  The snarling wolves had them both scrambling out of bed, snatching up wands and reaching out to grasp hands as they apparated from their Parisian apartment to London; their destination Number 12, Grimmauld Place. 

The Black townhouse was the London base of the Ancient and Noble House of Black and Arcturus had gifted it to Orion and his wife, Walburga, after their marriage.  Orion had a good head for politics and Arcturus had had no qualms leaving his heir to represent the House of Black on the Wizengamot a few years before.  It had enabled Arcturus to take up the role of British Sentinel Wizard on the International Sentinel and Guide Wizarding Council. 

He and Melania appeared in the basement of all places and it took Arcturus a moment to assess the situation. 

Chaos magic, the colour of freshly spilled blood, roiled through the air; accidental magic created in desperation.  Arcturus banished it with a flick of his wand even as he threw his senses outward to see if there were more people in the house and was satisfied when he couldn’t sense anyone else.

The room cleared abruptly leaving behind a macabre picture.

There was a ritual circle drawn in the centre of the room; an altar of bone had been set in the middle.  On top of the altar, Sirius lay curled up around his naked baby brother, a large black Grim stood over them both protectively, shining with spiritual energy. 

Merlin! Sirius was a child, but he was clearly online, Arcturus realised, shock reverberating through him.

Three witches lay dead in black robes around the altar, their throats ripped out.  Arcturus recognised Walburga and her mother instantly; the third witch looked vaguely familiar but he wasn’t sure he could put a name to the face, contorted as it was in death. 

Walburga’s personal house-elf was a bloody mess on the far side of the room and Orion lay unnaturally still next to the creature near the doorway.  There was a spirit animal, a thin grey wolf sat beside him, panting harshly. 

Arcturus swallowed hard.  They’d waited for years for Orion to come online and it had never happened.  The threat to his children must have finally pushed him over the edge, Arcturus realised.

Melania gave a cry and ran to their son, wrenching Arcturus into action. 

Arcturus made for the ritual circle.  He waved the emergency alarm spell in the air which would call healers and a senior investigator from the Council as he walked and tapped it, mentally commanding the wards to allow entry as soon as help arrived. 

He carefully crouched down at the edge of the circle and scanned the runes.  He smiled grimly.  The circle was blood-based and resonated with witch magic; only witches related to Walburga and Irma could enter.  However, there were two exceptions allowed; a child of a witch who had constituted the circle – which explained how both Regulus and Sirius could be inside of it – and the Lord and Lady of the domain where it resided.  It would let Arcturus in.  He cut his palm without ceremony and let the blood drip onto the runic circle until it shivered allowing him to pass.

“Arcturus!” Melania’s voice was tinged with an edge of hysteria.  “Orion needs a healer!”

“They’re on their way!” Arcturus answered briskly.  “Do what you can, I’ll be there as soon as I’ve checked on the boys!”

He hurried to the altar. 

The Grim regarded him intently before moving aside. 

Sirius’s silver eyes opened, tears spilling out.  “Gamps?”

“Yes, Sirius,” Arcturus whispered, smoothing the black curls of his grandson.  “It’s Grandpa.”  He was surprised the child remembered him, they returned to England so rarely.

“She hurt Reggie,” Sirius informed him solemnly.  His small face screwed up into a pained grimace.  “My head hurts.”

Arcturus cast a pain relief spell and started on a diagnostic.  “There, that will make you feel better until the healer gets here.”

Sirius’ forehead unwrinkled as magic eased his pain.  He yawned and snuggled closer around his sleeping baby brother, eyes drooping.

Arcturus checked his diagnostic. 

Despite Sirius’ assertion that ‘she’ had hurt Regulus, the baby was fine, but his sleep was unnatural; he’d been given a draught of some kind.

Sirius, on the other hand, had magical exhaustion, although he was fighting to stay awake, and his small body was riddled with bruises.  Someone had beaten him; some of the bruises were yellow and old.  He’d been attacked magically too; a pain curse.  Not Crucio, thankfully not that, but something painful nonetheless that no child should have endured. 

Arcturus stared at the diagnostic in disbelief.  Sirius was definitely online and…and he was a Guide, his empathy reading was extremely high.  Arcturus cast a glance towards the Grim; no doubt the spirit animal was helping Sirius shield. 

A Grim.

Blacks had always had wolves as their spirit guides and he wondered worriedly what it meant for Sirius that he had a Grim. 

Arcturus swallowed hard.  Blacks were also always, always Sentinels.  There had been no Guide of Black birth in the line since…since the beginning of their records. Well, Arcturus thought determinedly as he registered the movement of witches and wizards through the wards; Sirius might be the first Black Guide, but he was all the more precious for that and he would be protected.

“Father?” Orion rasped out in a bare whisper.

Arcturus left Sirius and hurried over to his son.  He crouched down beside his wife and took in his son’s condition.  His torso was a mess of bone, blood and torn flesh.   Melania had cast a stasis spell, trying to give the healers time to get to them.

Orion’s face creased with pain in such a similar way to Sirius that Arcturus simply cast the same pain relief spell without thinking.  Orion’s shaking hand reached out and Melania caught hold of it. 

“Stay with us, Orion,” Melania encouraged him, heedless of the tears which wet her cheeks.  “Help is on the way.”

“My boys?” asked Orion urgently.

“Sleeping,” Arcturus answered.  “They’re safe.”

Orion breathed out, relief swamping his aristocratic features.  “You’ll raise them.  Look after them.”

Melania held Orion’s hand to her heart, her stricken gaze never moving from her son.

Arcturus blinked back his own anguish.  He cupped his son’s cheek and drew Orion’s eyes to his own.  “I swear on my magic, Orion, I will raise your sons and protect them in your stead.”

They both glowed for a brief second; magic accepting the vow.

Orion’s eyes gleamed brightly with satisfaction and then…the light faded from them.  His wolf faded from view, a distant howl echoing through the room.

He was gone.

His son was dead.

Melania gave a wretched sob.  Arcturus moved to comfort his wife, his arm around her shoulders tugging her into the curve of his own so she could weep. 

“Lord Black?”

Arcturus looked up and found Chief Inspector Graves of the Council looking back at him.  “Humphrey.” 

He carefully manoeuvred Melania away from their son and led her to the side, conjuring a chair for her.  He was barely aware of the healers entering, two attending his son immediately, while another pair stopped warily at the edge of the ritual circle.

Humphrey sent out a spell which captured an initial image of the room and motioned at Arcturus.  “Are you able to close and dismiss the circle?”

Arcturus sighed.  “I can enter due to my blood, but I cannot close it…it’s witch magic.”

“Then it will need to be me,” Melania swiped at her face and stood.  She cut her palm with magic and added her own blood to the runes.  They allowed her entry and she moved to the centre near to the altar, breathed in and cast a series of spells, chanting quietly under her breath.

Arcturus watched as the healers beside Orion gave regretful shakes of their head and covered his son’s body with a white cloth. 

Humphrey cleared his throat.  “My condolences, Arcturus.”

Arcturus nodded his gratitude, unable to speak.

“Can you tell me what happened?” asked Humphrey carefully.

Arcturus swallowed around the lump in his throat and took a breath.  “With what Sirius said and this…” he pointed at the circle, “I surmise my daughter-in-law was attempting a dark ritual with Regulus.  Orion and Sirius must have attempted to stop her…” he sighed.  “Orion…I think Orion battled the elf and was injured.  Sirius made it into the circle and protected his brother. I think the women tried to stop him; he was cursed.  He came online.  I believe his spirit animal, the Grim, defended him and his brother with lethal force.”

Wind suddenly rushed into the room and lifted the blood runes from the concrete floor, swirling them high into the air before banishing them completely.

The healers immediately moved forward, and Sirius curled even more protectively around his brother.

Arcturus went to join his Guide at the altar.  He put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder.  “Easy, Sirius, let the healers do their job.”

Sirius calmed and Felicia Bones, the senior healer, gave a grateful nod.  She ran a set of diagnostics and confirmed what Arcturus had already surmised.  Arcturus felt Melania startle at the mention of Sirius’ status as a Guide. 

Bones delved into a pocket and brought out a potion.  “Give this to Sirius once he’s situated in his own bed.  It will deal with the bruising and ease the pain the curse caused.  Magically, physically, they simply need rest,” she concluded. 

Arcturus took the potion.

Bones swept her gaze around the room.  “They may have night terrors and trauma induced anxiety for a while.  A Mind Healer may not be amiss.”

“Thank you,” Melania said, dismissing the healer without another thought as she moved to gather Regulus into her arms.

Sirius reacted as she touched his brother.  “No!”

“Hush,” Arcturus soothed his grandson, “your grandmother is taking young Regulus to his crib.”

Melania kissed Sirius’ forehead.  “I’ll keep him safe now, Sirius.”  She picked up a barely stirring Regulus and swept out of the room, turning the baby’s head deftly away from the sight of the body on the floor.

Sirius blinked sleepily as Arcturus reached for him, but his thin small arms came up to meet him in return.  For a long moment, Arcturus enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding his grandson.  Sirius cuddled into him. 

“We’ll need to talk to him, Arcturus,” Humphrey said quietly, stepping up to Arcturus’ side.  “He’s the only witness we have to what happened.”

“Tomorrow,” Bones cut in before Arcturus could reply.  “The child needs rest.  You can question him no sooner than tomorrow afternoon.”

Humphrey huffed but nodded.

Arcturus clasped Sirius close.  “I’ll see Sirius to his bed and then you may take mine and Melania’s statements.”

Humphrey nodded again.  “Thank you.”

Arcturus held Sirius tightly as he walked out of the basement, taking care to follow his Guide’s example not to allow the child to catch sight of his father’s body. 

As soon as the investigation was done, he’d burn the whole room, Arcturus determined.  The Grim kept to his heel as Arcturus walked through Grimmauld to the nursery.  He grimaced with every step, his eyes taking in the gloomy décor Walburga had preferred.

Melania was already in the spacious room.  She had conjured a magical mobile above Regulus’ crib; it was spinning and the constellations of the night sky played across the dark ceiling.

Arcturus set Sirius down in the small bed.  He nudged Sirius into taking the potion and set the vial aside before tucking Sirius into bed.  The Grim jumped up on the bed to guard his charge who fell back asleep within the blink of an eye. 

Melania was suddenly beside him.  “I’ll train him myself.”

Arcturus put his arm around his Guide and beloved wife.  She smoothed down the ugly coverlet with its Slytherin green and silver pattern.  She waved her wand and it turned into the deep indigo of a night sky.

“I’m going to tear down everything that woman ever did,” Melania swore quietly.

She turned in his embrace to place her head on his shoulder.  He felt the dampness of her tears soak through his pyjama top. 

“Our son, Arcturus,” Melania sobbed.  “She took our son!”

Arcturus kissed Melania’s forehead softly.  “We will avenge him.  We will raise his boys and erase her from their memories.  She will have no place in their lives or hearts.”

Melania sniffed audibly and nodded.  “His boys; they’re Orion’s legacy.”

Arcturus nodded, grief stinging his own eyes and he hugged her closer.  Sirius and Regulus; they were all that was left of his son and they would protect them with their lives. 

Chapter 2: The Alpha Guide

une 1976

“Sirius!”

Sirius grinned, dropped the bags he was carrying, and wrapped his grandmother in his arms as she barrelled out of their country home to hug him three steps from the front door. “Grams!” 

He was almost as tall as she was, he noted.  He enjoyed the feeling of comfort being held by her always brought him.   

His grandfather sighed heavily as he closed the boot of the classic Morgan car and moved to stand beside him.  “Let the boy breathe, Mel.”

“Not so much a boy as a young man now at sixteen,” Grams said, disentangling them enough to cup his cheek and examine him intently.

He felt her empathic scan wash over him, checking him thoroughly.  It was too familiar to him to be intrusive and he simply sent a pulse of love and affection back to her.

She gave him a fond look.  “You’re in one piece at least.”

“Guide Burton and his Sentinel took good care of me,” Sirius confirmed as he did every time he came home from the training he undertook in muggle London.  “Gamps confirmed with them that I won’t need to go back next year.”

His grandmother had trained him herself until it had become obvious his Guide gifts were rare and only Frank Burton, a muggle Shamanic Guide and the Alpha Prime of London, had been able to train him in the end.  His grandmother had hated the arrangement and his grandfather had equally loathed it; he was militant over Sirius’ safety, his Sentinel instincts amped up because of Sirius’ status as a Guide.  As much as Sirius had hated being away from his family, he was genuinely going to miss Frank and Elsie.  On the other hand, he was pleased to finally have his Guide training completed and out of the way.  He could finally look forward to the opportunity to do his NEWTs in a school setting since he’d gotten his gifts under control.  He ignored the tiny surge of nerves that accompanied that thought. 

Sirius knew his grandparents were very protective mostly because of how he and Regulus had ended up in their custody.  He remembered more of that night than he had ever admitted to anyone.  He very clearly remembered his grandparents’ grief at losing their son and their immediate vow to protect their grandchildren.  He had never doubted how cherished he and Regulus were and, in return, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his grandparents. 

“He’s a fully certified Guide,” Gamps confirmed proudly.

Grams smiled, smugly satisfied.  “I knew you could do it!”

Sirius felt his cheeks heat unwillingly.  “Thanks, Grams.”

“Of course, you look like a ragamuffin.”

Sirius looked down at his muggle outfit of jeans, t-shirt covered by a shirt and a leather jacket.  “It’s fashionable!”

His Gamps snorted.  “It’s something.”

“It’s muggle,” Grams sniffed, but without any true ire in her voice.

“You love muggle designers,” Sirius pointed out dryly. 

His Grams had a closet full of muggle clothing.  Of course, Sirius knew that he was the reason why both his grandparents had ended up spending so much time in the muggle world. 

“If only someone had designed your outfit,” she quipped, placing an arm around his shoulders. She waved a wand at the bags and they followed behind as she shepherded him into the house.  “How did your OWLs go?”

“I think I did well,” Sirius said.  “Madame Jacobson made sure I was prepared.”  He kept his tone even, hiding his dislike for his tutor, but not as successfully as he’d hoped since his Grams’ gaze narrowed on him.

“I never liked that woman either,” Grams muttered.

“We investigated her thoroughly,” Gamps stated, smoothing down his sharp blue tie and adjusting the cuffs on his tailored suit. 

Sirius knew Gamps would have sent her packing if there had been anything that hinted at an actual threat.  They’d ultimately decided to retain her, but Sirius was glad he didn’t have to see her again.  But he couldn’t deny her teaching credentials – he was sure that he’d probably passed all of his exams with high marks, and she had never treated him badly. 

Sirius hated that he hadn’t been able to attend Hogwarts, especially when it had been decided that Reggie would go.  He missed his little brother enormously. But, Sirius reminded himself briskly, there had been no way Sirius could have attended without control of his gifts, and his specialised Guide training had meant that he’d endured five years of magical tutors.  The elderly Madame Jacobson had been brought in for his OWLs. 

“When is Reggie due home?” asked Sirius, prompted by the thought of schools and his brother.

“On Saturday,” his Grams confirmed. 

She led him through the wide hall with its black and white floored tile and into the family wing on the right.  He was vaguely aware that his bags went up the stairs instead of trailing after him. 

The large living room was comfortable with deep leather sofas and chairs; books were crammed onto shelves around the room and a stack of magazines towered lopsidedly on a table at the back.  A wizarding wireless sat abandoned in the corner of the room.  Big bay windows meant that the room was sunny rather than dark, awash with warm gold light.

Sirius breathed in deeply as his Grams ushered him into a seat and called for Mobey, the senior house elf. 

He was home. 

He’d been raised in Blackhaven ever since his grandparents had taken custody of him and his brother.  He’d never returned to Grimmauld Place and he figured he never would.  His Uncle Alphard currently resided there as he acted as proxy for the House of Black in the Wizengamot.

Gamps nudged him as he took the seat next to Sirius on the sofa.  “Alright there, Sirius?”

“Yes, Gamps,” Sirius murmured. 

His Grams sat down in the chair next to her Sentinel. 

Mobey popped in with an overflowing tea-tray of cakes, sandwiches and tea.  His Grams rescued everything with a calm wave of her wand and dismissed Mobey kindly.

Sirius surreptitiously did his own check of his grandparents while tea was being served. 

His Grams looked well.  She kept fit riding horses and playing tennis and had informed them all cheerfully at Christmas that she was taking up something called yoga.  Her mink brown hair was streaked with steel grey, giving her an edgy air.  She kept it styled simply and classically in a shoulder length bob.  Her make-up was discreet and her jewellery was tasteful; gold stud earrings and her wedding rings.  Her outfit of a deep blue robe over an elegant dropped-waist dress brought out the blue in her eyes.

His Gamps was similarly elegant.  He also kept himself fit, although he had declared he’d only do yoga over his own dead body.  However, a love of hiking and Quidditch meant that his body was made up of wiry muscle underneath the tailored suits and open robes he preferred to wear.  His black hair was also streaked with grey, the silver almost matching the colour of his eyes – the same colour which Sirius saw in the mirror each morning.

They looked well for seventy-five and Sirius was comforted with the thought that as magicals they could live a very long life.

His Grams handed him a plate of cake and set a cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of him.  “I thought you might like to go and collect Regulus with me from the train station.”

Sirius almost choked on his cake.  “Really?”

“Really,” Grams smiled at him.  “You’re a certified Guide now and it would be a lovely surprise for your brother.”

Reggie would be shocked to his underwear. 

Sirius grinned at his Grams.  “Count me in.”

“Just don’t bring the poor boy online,” Gamps cautioned, his eyes twinkling. 

“At least he’s found Barty,” Grams commented.  “They should come online together.”  There was a note of relief in her voice. 

Sirius liked his brother’s future Guide.  Barty was as clever as Regulus, had a sly sense of humour, and loved the heck out of his brother.  He’d blossomed after Sirius had used his own position as the presumptive Alpha Wizarding Guide of Europe to remove Barty from his abusive father.  Sure, he’d done it behind the scenes and through his grandfather, but it had worked.  Since Barty had turned twelve, he and his mother had lived on a cottage on the estate under the protection of the House of Black.

The idea of finding his own Sentinel made Sirius very nervous.  He knew nature provided but the idea of finding the perfect companion, his mate, seemed daunting.  Yet he couldn’t deny he wanted his Sentinel in his life.  His heart and soul yearned for the connection that his Sentinel would bring.  He dreamed often about his Sentinel’s spirit guide, a wild white stag, who comforted him and eased the sense of longing.  The stag always brought the vaguest sense of fun and good humour; a bright mind…he sighed and focused on his tea.

“Are we staying here for the whole Summer?” asked Sirius.  Traditionally, they usually spent half of it in Paris at the apartment there.  His grandparents still represented Britain on the International Sentinel and Guide Wizarding Council.

“Yes,” Grams declared, “we’ll need to stay in England this Summer.  Your Gamps and I have already arranged a leave of absence until September so we can navigate events here.”

His Gamps huffed.

“Don’t pout, Arcturus,” Grams teasingly scolded, “you know we must introduce Sirius formally as our Heir this Summer.”

“I know,” Gamps muttered grumpily, “I just don’t like it.”

“We need to address the rumours of you being a Squib,” Grams continued, turning back to him, “Alphard says that most of the Wizengamot think Regulus is the heir because we’ve kept you so hidden and didn’t present you in December.”

“Bloody Malfoy!” Gamps sipped his tea and grimaced as though just discovering it was tea and not the whiskey he’d probably prefer to be drinking.

“Not to mention Dumbledore is sticking his very long nose into things again,” Grams said with more than a hint of exasperation.  “He sent a reminder under his auspice as Chief Warlock that Sirius should take his oaths now he was sixteen and had taken his OWLs.”

“I assume you sent an appropriate reply,” Gamps lifted an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Grams replied.  “Since when I have ever allowed that busy-bee to tell us what to do?”

“Not ever,” Gamps declared proudly with a loving gleam in his eye.

Sirius ignored the by-play and focused on the topic.  “I thought we’d all said not to give the rumours any attention?”

“Usually, that’s true,” Grams conceded, tilting her head at him.  “They’ve afforded you a lot of protection over the years since everyone politely will lose interest in a Squib…” she held up a hand when he would have interrupted, “and I know that you feel that’s wrong but that’s how our society is right now.”  

Sirius subsided.  He had a lot of passionate feelings about much of the wrong-headed bigotry that infected the wizarding world.

His Gamps winked at him when Grams turned to pour more tea.  Not that Gamps agreed with a lot of Sirius’ politics, but he encouraged Sirius to think for himself and was proud of Sirius’ independence.

“However,” Grams continued, her tea refreshed, “we cannot allow the rumour to persist now you have reached the traditional age for the Heir presentation.”

“Your Grams is right,” Gamps admitted, “if you hadn’t certified as a Guide, we might have sought to put it off for another year which would have been difficult but not impossible.”

Sirius could hear the relief in his Gamps’ voice that it wasn’t necessary.  Delaying would have meant telling some people they didn’t fully trust, like Dumbledore, the truth about Sirius, without Sirius fully able to defend himself.

Gamps coughed and continued. “With your control you should be able to handle the experience and we should settle the matter publicly to begin settling you into our society fully.”

Sirius nodded slowly.  A presentation was traditionally held in front of an entire Wizengamot with the audience chamber usually packed to the gills and was considered a rite of passage for an Heir.  It would be a lot of people in a confined space.  Once more he was grateful to Frank for preparing him by taking him to concerts and football matches.  He could handle crowds.

“The presentation is a traditional House ceremony,” Grams said, “and regardless of the rumours, I’m pleased you get to experience it.”  Her gaze lit up with mischief.  “And, of course, we will hold the traditional Ball which accompanies it.”

Sirius suppressed the grimace he wanted to make. 

“It will be a good opportunity to meet your peers,” Grams said blithely.

Gamps sent him a sympathetic look; he had no love for balls and pageantry either. 

“We’ll plan it over the next few days and send the invitations ahead of Regulus coming home,” Grams continued.

“We’ll also need to think about the oaths you’ll take in front of the Wizengamot since you took your actual oaths on your birthday,” Gamps commented, grumpily.

Sirius nodded.  He knew he’d disappointed his grandfather by not waiting but he just couldn’t.  It had been an instinctual, spiritual imperative and his Gamps understood that. 

Sirius considered it as one of the most profound moments of his life, something he had been waiting for ever since the Heir ring had claimed him on a trip to the vault when he was five.  He’d taken his oaths at midnight in the light of the night sky skin-clad, with only the moon and a couple of spirit guides as his witnesses.  When he’d called for his own spirit guide, who he’d named Padfoot as a child, to stand with him, he had been shocked senseless at the white stag standing beside his Grim.  It seemed right though that his Sentinel’s spirit had been in the circle as he’d made his vows. 

Gamps peered at Sirius knowingly.  “Have you had any sign of your Sentinel since then?”

“My Sentinel isn’t online and he’s magical,” Sirius replied. “I know that much.”  He resisted the urge to squirm under his grandfather’s steady gaze.  He had only told his grandparents about the white stag showing up at his oath-taking, not about its visits in his dreams.  It was private.

“He?” questioned Grams bluntly.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Sirius confirmed. 

“We’ll need to think about surrogates for your heir then,” Grams said, taking a pragmatic view as always.

Sirius did squirm at that thought.  Thankfully, the surrogacy could be done through magic because he had no wish to be intimate with anyone other than his Sentinel.  His mind briefly flashed to the horrifyingly detailed talk his Gamps had given him when he’d turned fourteen.

“Do you think they’re in England?” asked Gamps.

“I think so,” Sirius murmured.  “I hope so.” 

“Maybe this Summer will help you find them,” Grams said brightly.

Sirius felt a flicker of hope.  Maybe he would find his Sentinel, in fact it was all too likely that his Sentinel was a peer who he’d just never met before.  At least, Sirius considered wryly, the thought might give him some kind of reason to look forward to the goddamn Ball.

Chapter 3: The Knights of Walpurgis

“He’s sleeping finally,” Melania shoved the covers back and clambered into bed. 

Arcturus hummed, his attention ostensibly on the newspaper he was reading.  “It always takes him a day to adjust.”

Melania reached out empathically to soothe her Sentinel’s disgruntlement.  “He’s home now, and he’s done with his Guide training.” 

She couldn’t help but feel smugly proud of her grandson.  Sirius was an incredibly intelligent boy.  Young man, she reminded herself.  At sixteen he had already lost the childish roundness in his face, there was the hint of a beard to come in morning stubble before he shaved, and his athletic body was rapidly taking on the muscle and strength to smooth the gangly limbs of his teenage years into manhood.

“Are we sending him to Hogwarts in the Autumn?” asked Arcturus,

Melania grimaced at the idea of having Sirius anywhere near Dumbledore on a regular basis.  “I would like to give him a choice.”

“He’ll go to Hogwarts then,” Arcturus pointed out dryly as she rearranged her pillows.  “He’s never been happy at Regulus going without him.”

“He’ll have a lot of offers once his OWL results are published,” Melania sighed.  “I was hoping he might choose Beauxbatons.  He could live with us in the apartment and be a day student.”

“We should have sent Regulus there,” Arcturus grumbled.

They had talked about it, but the Blacks had always gone to Hogwarts and Regulus had wanted to go.  In hindsight, Melania wondered whether he’d been influenced by the spirit plane to ensure that he’d met Barty as early as possible.  If Sirius hadn’t met Regulus’ new best friend at Regulus’ birthday party and hadn’t immediately determined to remove Regulus’ Guide from his father, Barty may have ended up irretrievably dormant due to the abuse.

Melania settled back, slipped on her reading glasses and picked up her book.  “If Sirius decides on Beauxbatons, Regulus will follow him.  We can always arrange for Barty to attend with him.”

His instincts had already seen Regulus shift from an adoring younger brother looking to his older sibling for protection and guidance, to a young if latent Sentinel intent on protecting the Alpha Guide of his tribe. 

Truthfully though she couldn’t see Sirius choosing to go anywhere but Hogwarts.  In some ways, Sirius going there would be a good thing, she mused.  He’d always felt different and going to Hogwarts would be something normal for him to experience.

She set her book open on her lap and reached for the jar of hand-cream she had in her bedside drawer.  She rubbed a small amount into her hands, enjoying the scent of lavender.  “Lucretia said she’d come over tomorrow to help with planning the Ball.”

Their daughter had offered to raise Sirius and Regulus herself after Orion’s death, but they’d refused her, partly because of the oath Arcturus had made, but also because Lucretia had never shown any sign of coming online.  She’d happily married her fellow law apprentice Ignatius Prewett when they’d turned twenty-one.  They worked for the Ministry as prosecutors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  After thirty years of marriage, there were no signs of children and Lucretia refused to discuss it with her parents.

“He hates the idea of a Ball,” Arcturus said.

“Sirius hates it because you hate it,” Melania said, amused.

Arcturus glanced at her crossly, but he didn’t refute it. “Balls are just a waste of time, money and magic which could be put to better use.”

“Even if it wasn’t traditional, Sirius needs the experience of hosting and engaging with his peers,” Melania said firmly.  “We’ve kept him safe but very isolated, Arcturus.”

“He’ll get plenty of invitations once the presentation is done,” Arcturus said, a hint of defensiveness giving away his own guilt at how sheltered they’d kept Sirius.

“Was that Alphard on the Floo earlier?”

“Yes, he’ll be by tomorrow to start the planning,” Arcturus confirmed.  “He agrees that Sirius’ presentation will be a big deal.  He suggested that we should introduce him to some of our allies ahead of time.”

If Arcturus hated the idea of the Ball, Melania hated that idea.

“Alphard was thinking a dinner with some of the key players only,” Arcturus assured her.

Melania sighed.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

“Nott apparently wants us to invite an old school friend of his,” Arcturus sighed.  “He’s returned from abroad and is re-establishing himself.”

“Maybe later in the Summer after the Ball,” Melania said. 

Arcturus shifted, the paper he was holding rustling.  “Alphard mentioned that Pollux wants to see me.”

Melania scowled at the mention of Arcturus’ cousin and the maternal grandfather of the boys.  She had never forgiven him for what his late wife and daughter had done even though he had claimed no knowledge of their plot against the House of Black.  Given how stupid Pollux was, Melania could believe that.  Still, her Guide instincts cautioned her from trusting him. 

It had taken Alphard coming online in the wake of Orion’s death for her to trust him.  As Pollux’s eldest son and Walburga’s brother, she’d viewed him with suspicion when he’d presented himself as a worried uncle.  But he had always been the antithesis of Walburga and he’d let Melania empathically scan him and his Guide, Logan McGonagall, to determine his sincerity.

Cygnus, Walburga’s younger brother, on the other hand, Melania would trust as far as she could throw him without magic.  Cygnus and his Rosier wife were arrogant and ambitious.  They embodied the worst of pureblood bigotry and had disowned their middle daughter when she’d eloped with a muggleborn wizard.  They’d been furious when Arcturus had refused to sever the House bond with her.

Perhaps, Melania considered wryly, she and Arcturus may once have agreed.  But living in Paris and spending so much time in the muggle world had given them a different perspective.  Melania still held the traditions of their pureblood heritage close, but she knew British wizarding culture would benefit from an injection of fresh ideas.  Moreover, Sirius challenged both her and Arcturus on their politics every day.  Her grandson was an egalitarian and an idealist, and he adored Andromeda.  He was godfather to his cousin’s daughter, Nymphadora.

“He wants to see the boys alone this year,” Arcturus said.

“He can go fuck himself,” snarled Melania.  She or Arcturus always supervised the annual visits between her grandsons and Pollux.  

“That’s what I said.”

His agreement deflated her ire. 

“I will never trust him alone with them,” Melania said.  “I just won’t, Arcturus.” 

It was an irrational fear that Pollux would try to finish what Irma and Walburga had tried to do, but it sat in her chest like a living, breathing dragon.

“He’ll never be alone with them,” Arcturus soothed her. “I’ll write and tell him he’ll spend a day with him with us supervising as always.”

“Good,” Melania took a deep breath.  She set the hand-cream jar back in the drawer.  She cast about for something to distract her from once again mentally planning Pollux’s murder.  “Anything interesting in the paper?”

“Nothing much,” Arcturus said.  “Apparently, there’s a rumour Millicent Bagnold is going to run for Minister in the election.”

“She won’t win against Harold surely?” Melania replied.  Minchum was a little too untraditional for Melania but he was competent.   

“Harold will win, but he’s seen as a bit of a lame duck in Europe,” Arcturus commented.  “I doubt he’ll win the concessions he wants from the Europeans on trade.  Bagnold knows that too.”

“You think Millicent is positioning herself for a future run,” Melania said. 

“She’s savvy and ambitious,” Arcturus noted.

Melania frowned at the headline.  “Another attack by the Knights of Walpurgis?”

The small group of masked wizards and witches had been responsible for a series of arson attacks since the Spring Equinox, all targeting well-known wizarding locations.  Diagon Alley had been hit particularly hard, although it seemed their latest attack the previous weekend had been centred on Hogsmeade.  They were supposedly protesting against how the ever-increasing numbers of muggleborn were eroding wizarding culture.

“Bloody hooligans!” Arcturus growled.  “I’ve told Cygnus to make sure none of his lot are tangled up in any of it.”

“Do you think any of the girls would involve themselves?” asked Melania.  “Andromeda obviously won’t.”

“Andi has a good head on her shoulders,” Arcturus conceded, “but Bellatrix is married to an idiot and Narcissa has her head in the clouds mooning over the Malfoy boy.”

“I suppose we need to factor her wedding to Malfoy into our Summer plans,” Melania sighed.  They’d received the overly ornate invitation for the August extravaganza a week before.

“At least that likely debacle might draw everyone’s attention off Sirius’ presentation,” Arcturus agreed.  He frowned suddenly.  “There was a blood ritual in the woods outside Hogsmeade the same night as the Walpurgis attack.”

“A blood ritual?” Melania pressed her lips together.  “What was sacrificed?”

“A baby goat,” Arcturus grimaced.  “The DMLE is investigating.”  He snapped his paper shut finally and set it aside on the bedside table.

Melania gave up on her book and placed it back on the table.  Arcturus never truly minded if she kept reading, but over the years they’d discovered they slept better if they both settled down to sleep at the same time.

Her husband tugged up the coverlet as they manoeuvred to lie down fully. 

Melania waved her hand and the lights blinked out except for one mage light in the corner of the room.  She snuggled further under the covers and wasn’t surprised when Arcturus tucked her close against him.

“We need to be prepared for Sirius to find his Sentinel,” Arcturus murmured lowly.

Melania nodded awkwardly given her prone position.  “I know.”  She knew that it was probably more than likely Sirius’ Sentinel was of an age with him.  “Do you have an idea who it might be?”

Arcturus pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Perhaps.”

“And you’re not going to share?” teased Melania.

“You could work it out yourself,” Arcturus commented dryly.

“Maybe I will,” Melania shot back.  After all, she thought, it had to be someone equal in magic and male; that definitely reduced the likely candidates.

“Have you talked to him about the symbolism of their spirit guides?” asked Melania.

Arcturus shook his head.  “Not yet.”

A white stag and a black Grim; it was a startling combination.  The stag and Grim were both agents of the Otherworld, of Death.  They lived to protect the innocent and to hunt down evil spirits; they were harbingers of change.  That they had manifested as the spirit guides of a Sentinel and Guide meant that a major threat was on the horizon. 

“Knowing Sirius he already knows,” Arcturus sighed. 

That was probably true.

“We should still talk to him about it,” Melania said.  “He may be scared to think about what it means for his future and unwilling to admit it.”

“He’ll talk to us when he’s ready,” Arcturus said.

Melania huffed, but she knew Arcturus was right.  It was never wise to push Sirius into something; he could be as stubborn as a mule.

“Why don’t you like Jacobson?” asked Arcturus suddenly.  “I thought you approved her employment.”

“I did,” Melania said, “she was very qualified.”

“But?” he prompted.

“But she’s a cold fish,” Melania noted.  “Empathically she’s very flat.  That’s probably why she rubs Sirius up the wrong way too.”

“Not everyone can be as passionate as you,” Arcturus shifted to hover above her. 

They kissed slowly and easily, years of love, of marriage and intimacy between them.

Melania smiled as Arcturus nudged a hand between her thighs, sliding upwards and…

The wards screamed a warning; the magic resonating sharply across their skin and chiming in their heads.

They both scrambled out of the bed and reached for their wands.   Melania registered that Sirius had woken up, his gifts reaching out to check on her and his grandfather.

Arcturus hurriedly tapped the wall of the house and an image of the outside sprang into being.

“There!” Melania said, pointing at the far side of image where the bottom of the drive by the gate was depicted.

Arcturus glowered at the sight of two wizards dressed in black with white masks clearly making their way towards the house.  “Call the Aurors!”  He apparated without another word.

Sirius burst into the room, took one look at the floating image which now showed his grandfather stood in front of the intruders and recklessly apparated away himself.

Melania made for the Floo.  She called the Aurors and apparated out of the house, cursing both her husband and grandson under her breath.

She landed right beside Arcturus and shielded immediately as they took spell-fire.  Her Sentinel was almost feral as he responded, his wand returning spell after spell through the air.  She took a moment to search for Sirius.

Her heart leaped in her chest as she took in her grandson holding his own against the second intruder further down the path.  His Grim lurked in the shadows stealthily moving towards the unsuspecting idiot who dared to threaten his charge.

She turned away, knowing the Grim would protect Sirius and in a second the wand in her hand turned into a fiery whip.  She and Arcturus moved as one.  Arcturus sent a shockwave of power across the lawn to their opponent and she followed with the whip, reaching out and cutting the legs of the wizard out from under him as he tried to avoid the shockwave.  Arcturus disarmed him with a contemptuous sniff.

A thin scream rent the air. 

She and Arcturus turned in the direction of their grandson to find the frightened intruder take one look at the approaching Grim and run for the ward boundary.  Sirius and his spirit animal followed at his heels, and Sirius managed to hit his fleeing opponent with a spell.  But although the man stumbled he still continued, throwing himself over the gate.

The intruder shouted something, a spell erupting from his wand…

Sirius ducked, throwing himself to the ground, and the Grim was there protecting him in all its psionic glowing energy…  

The wispy green spell slapped into an invisible barrier and shot into the air; an eerie skull with a snake writhing in its mouth erupted in the night sky.

There was a crack of apparition signalling the intruder was gone.

Melania sighed out in relief and turned back to the man she and Arcturus had been battling.  The intruder was breathing harshly, the air was heavy with the scent of blood as he bled out.

Arcturus leaned down, plucked the white mask off and tossed it to the ground.

Melania blinked.  “Rasbastan?”

Lestrange grinned at them with bloody teeth.  “Morsmordre!”  His body shivered as a portkey activated.

Arcturus slapped his wand down urgently, but it was too late…Rasbastan was gone, a pool of blood and his lower legs left behind like a gruesome gift.  

“Easy, Arcturus,” Melania placed her hand on Arcturus’ neck, soothing her Sentinel.  “Easy.”

“Gamps?  Grams?” Sirius lurched to a halt beside them and blanched at the sight of the severed limbs. 

Melania managed to note that although he was sweaty and his knees were scraped from his dive to the gravelled driveway, he was otherwise unharmed.

Arcturus moved before she did, gathering Sirius into his arms, only giving way to tug Melania into the embrace.   

They stayed huddled together, holding onto each other, until they heard the pop of the Aurors finally arriving.

Her eyes glanced back to the fallen white mask and up to the sky where the skull hovered like an ill omen. 

The Knights of Walpurgis.

Her gaze lifted up and met her Sentinel’s over their grandson’s head.  Their intent aligned within a single heartbeat, a single thought.  The Knights were going to deeply regret attacking the House of Black. 

Chapter 4: The Latent Sentinel

“What’s wrong?” asked Barty, sliding in beside Regulus at the Slytherin breakfast table.  “You’ve been antsy since you woke up this morning.”

Regulus shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Just…feeling out of sorts.” 

He’d woken up in the middle of the night as though he’d been prodded awake with a stinging hex.  But the dorm had been quiet, Barty fast asleep in his own bed.  Regulus had settled back down but he hadn’t been able to fully get back to sleep.  He’d gotten up tired, grumpy, and with a continuing sense of unease lurking under his skin.

Maybe, he mused, because he knew that Sirius was home and he wasn’t.  Sirius always got back from the Burtons earlier than Hogwarts finished.  He was looking forward to seeing his brother again.  Sirius had spent most of the Easter break buried in revision for his OWLs, although they’d managed to find some together.

His heart ached a little as he considered his Grams’ last letter to him.  They were gearing up to present Sirius at the July Wizengamot.  She’d warned him that Sirius was going to be busy over the Summer.  Maybe Sirius wouldn’t have as much time for him, he thought moodily.  He pushed the thought away because his brother loved him.  They exchanged letters faithfully every week they were apart.

Maybe he was just grumpy because Regulus just hated the last week of term.  There was nothing to do except wait for others to finish exams and sit in boring classes which prepped them for the next year and set them holiday homework.  And in the background of his mind sat the knowledge that he could be spending the time with his brother instead.

“It’s only another four days and we’re on a train home,” Barty comforted him.

Regulus managed a small smile for his Guide and turned his attention to his breakfast.

“Is it true?”

Regulus looked up from sliding sausages on his plate as Geraldine Avery slid onto the bench on the other side of the table.  Regulus exchanged a brief glance with Barty.

“Is what true?” Regulus asked politely.

Avery crossed her arms and glowered at him with the full force of her pale blue eyes, sneering down her aristocratic nose at him.  “My parents say your brother will attend the July Wizengamot to take his place as Heir.”

Regulus looked at her evenly.  “My brother is already the Heir.” He couldn’t remember a time when Sirius hadn’t worn the family ring.  “The Wizengamot presentation is just tradition and a formality.”

Avery frowned disapprovingly, far too visibly for a proper Slytherin. 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. 

Avery flushed red and looked away.

“But everyone knows your brother’s a Squib and you’re the Heir!” Avery’s bumbling friend, Beatrice Trimbley, blurted out.

Regulus glared at her and she ducked her head, her lank brown hair falling forward to hide her sheepish expression. 

“Beatrice may have been less than tactful to say it out loud,” Avery said defensively, “but you can’t have been unaware of the rumours.”

“My family is aware and unconcerned,” Regulus replied smoothly.  In fact, they used them for their own advantage, namely protecting Sirius from unwanted attention. 

“So, your brother isn’t a Squib?” asked Trimbley tentatively.

“Oh, honestly, Trimbley!” His friend, Helena Dagworth, slid onto the bench beside Barty and glared at her dorm-mate.  “Sirius couldn’t be the Heir if he was a Squib and besides you just have to look at him to know he’s a wizard!”

“You’re late,” Barty teased.

Regulus sent his friend a brief look of appreciation, knowing Barty was attempting to ensure a change of topic.

“I hate waking up this early,” Helena complained.  “It’s the last week!  We’re leaving on Saturday!  Why do we still have to get up so early? I think it’s…”

“You’ve met Sirius Black?” interrupted Avery sharply.  “You?”

Helena glowered at the older girl.

Regulus nudged her foot warningly.  Some days he wondered how Helena had ever sorted to Slytherin when her temperament was entirely Gryffindor.  It didn’t help that her half-blood status made her bottom of the ranking system in Slytherin, or at least it would if it wasn’t for Regulus’ friendship with her. 

“Helena and Barty have spent part of their holidays with my family and I in Paris since first year,” Regulus pointed out to Avery.  “Why are you so surprised they’ve met my brother?”

Indeed, that point seemed to blindside everyone in listening distance of them as though nobody had thought of it before.  Maybe they hadn’t, Regulus realised.  If everyone truly thought Sirius was a Squib then it was possible they’d assumed he’d be kept hidden from visitors like many Squib children.

“Does that mean he’s going to come to Hogwarts next year?” Avery asked, rallying.

Most of the table near close enough to hear perked up at the question, although many had the good manners not to stare at Regulus as they awaited his response. 

“No decision has been made about my brother’s schooling next year,” Regulus answered evenly. 

He was torn about Sirius coming to Hogwarts.  On one hand, he wanted his brother to experience the school and he missed Sirius.  On the other hand, there was a tiny part of him which liked having something of his own which Sirius did not share.

It wasn’t his decision, Regulus reminded himself.  His grandparents would ultimately decide.  At least, Sirius’ Guide training was no longer a factor.  Sirius had indicated in his last letter that he’d mastered his shielding and his empathic power; he’d fully expected to be certified as a Guide.

“I hope your brother does come,” declared Arnold Cocklebrick, the fifth year prefect.  “Potter and his group of misfits could do with being taken down a peg.”

Regulus kept his face expressionless with difficulty. 

James Potter was the undisputed Golden boy of the fifth years.  He was a strong wizard and a latent Sentinel.  He glanced across to the Ravenclaw table where Potter sat with his friends.  

The story went that he had met Remus Lupin, Lily Evans and Severus Snape on the train and they had all sworn to get into the same House.  Lily had apparently argued the Hat into Sorting her into a House where all of them might fit. 

In truth, Regulus had little problem with Potter himself.  They were distant cousins some steps removed, not close enough for the familial tie to be recognised by either family formally.  Regulus also had never been victim to Potter and his gang’s pranking shenanigans.  Mostly they targeted bullies and idiots, and Regulus was scrupulous about being neither.  Unfortunately, most of their targets seemed to wear silver and green.

“I don’t understand what Potter sees in that mudblood,” sniffed Avery.

“You don’t see what Potter sees in a beautiful, intelligent witch who is one of his best friends?” Helena said dryly.  “If she was a Guide, she’d be a perfect match for him.”

Avery flushed but her eyes flashed defiantly.  “She’s not suitable for him,” she argued, “she’s not even the right sort for a surrogate.”

“You’re just jealous,” Helena declared and turned back to her breakfast.

“I am not jeal…”

“Who is that?” asked Beatrice blurted out, cutting across her friend’s denial.  “Merlin, he’s beautiful!”

Regulus looked up and froze.

Sirius was in the Great Hall striding towards the top table with…with his grandmother.

Regulus shot to his feet and hurriedly excused himself.  He was barely aware of Barty and Helena following as he crossed the hall to intercept his family.

It was Sirius who saw him first, noticed him first.  As always. His brother stopped to greet him.     

Regulus only just reminded himself he couldn’t hug his brother; it wasn’t a proper greeting in such a public setting.  He lurched to a stop in front of him and bowed instead.  “Sirius!”

Sirius’ silver eyes warmed at the sight of Regulus. and clasped Regulus’s shoulder.  “Regulus.”

There was a note of relief in Sirius’ voice which raised the hairs on Regulus’ neck.  He swiftly checked over his brother, but Sirius looked unharmed.  His hair was slightly long and so pulled back.  He wore dragonhide pants and a black t-shirt which was moulded to his young body under his black open robes.    

“What’s happened?” asked Regulus.

“We’ll talk about it at home, Regulus.  We’re here to collect you and Barty,” his grandmother said.

She stepped forward and he took her hand, bowing over it before he kissed her knuckles.  Helena and Barty followed his example. 

“Helena, a delight as always, darling girl,” Grams said, “Bartemius, it’s good to see you.”

“Incoming, Grams,” Sirius murmured.

Regulus caught sight of the fast-approaching Dumbledore over his brother’s shoulder, the stout figure of Horace Slughorn bustling to keep up just behind him.  Minerva McGonagall was also walking towards them but much more sedately.  Grams moved to greet the Headmaster, ensuring they were a few feet away from Sirius and Regulus.

“Heir Black,” Helena bowed her head at his brother.

“Miss Dagworth,” Sirius offered a hand, the Heir ring very visible, and when she clasped it, he raised it and kissed her knuckles.  “How are you?”

“Good, thank you,” Helena said, blushing slightly as he released her hand, “but if you’re rescuing Regulus and Barty from end of term hell, please can you rescue me too?”

Sirius’ lips twitched into a reluctant smile.  “If only I could.”

“Sirius, Regulus!” Grams called them to her.  “We’ll continue this discussion in the Headmaster’s office.”  She nodded at Dumbledore.  “Lead the way, Albus.”

Dumbledore flushed red as though angry about something, but he nodded.  His rheumy blue eyes landed on Sirius with undisguised curiosity for a long moment.  “Come with me.”  He swept away in a swirl of brightly coloured robes.

“Excuse us,” Sirius said politely to Helena.  Sirius ushered Regulus and Barty ahead of him and Grams.

“Sirius?” Grams murmured softly.

Regulus glanced back.

Sirius had stopped, looking at something on the other side of the hall, but when Regulus followed his gaze, there was nothing but a gaggle of students gawking back at them.    

“Sorry, Grams,” Sirius said softly.

They started walking again. 

Regulus was aware that the hall erupted in a cacophony of sound as they departed through the rear doors typically only used by the staff.

He’d never been to Dumbledore’s office before and he allowed himself a moment to just take in the grandeur of the guarding gargoyle, the spiral moving staircase, and the large room crammed full of knick-knacks, books and magical portraits of former Headteachers.  His eyes widened at the sight of Fawkes, the Headmaster’s phoenix.  It sat on its perch in front of the window looking beautifully majestic, sunlight catching on its fiery feathers.

Grams waved a wand to conjure up enough chairs for them all to sit comfortably and sat down without waiting for Dumbledore to invite her to do so.  Sirius, Regulus and Barty all took their cue from her.

McGonagall and Slughorn remained standing off to the side of Dumbledore’s desk. 

“May I first introduce my grandson and the Heir to the House of Black,” Grams began in a no-nonsense tone, “Sirius Orion Black.”

Sirius gave a slow head nod to the Hogwarts’ Professors.  “I’m honoured to meet you all.”

“It is good to meet you, my boy,” Dumbledore said brightly.  “We’ve been anticipating your presence here for some time.”

Of course, Regulus realised, Dumbledore and the teachers would know that Sirius was not a Squib because they’d issued an invitation for him at eleven.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Sirius replied politely and turned pointedly to their grandmother.

“As I mentioned,” Grams said firmly, “several Houses were attacked last night by the Knights of Walpurgis.  It seems they’ve decided to move on from attacking public wizarding property to private.”

Regulus’ eyes widened and his gaze sought Sirius’ to check he was fine; that their grandparents were fine.  Sirius inclined his head a touch providing him with much needed reassurance.

Barty shifted in the chair next to him.  “Lady Black, my mother…”

“Your mother is well, Bartemius,” Grams confirmed gently, “she was undisturbed by events at the main house.”

“Oh, my!” Slughorn mumbled, his over-large moustache quivering.

Dumbledore’s twinkling visage had sobered abruptly.  “You are certain it was the Knights of Walpurgis?”

“Absolutely, certain,” Grams said dryly.  “No doubt as Chief Warlock you’ll receive the reports from the DMLE in good time.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said.

“Lady Black, what other Houses were attacked?” McGonagall asked.

“I don’t have a full picture,” Grams demurred, “but I am aware the Weasleys, Ogdens and Longbottoms were attacked.”  She paused.  “But I believe all were able to defend their properties without anything more than minor harm to themselves.”

“What a terrible business!” Slughorn blustered. 

Grams sent him an unimpressed look and returned her gaze to Dumbledore.  “You should probably check with the Aurors for a full list.  I suspect I won’t be the only parent turning up to collect their children early.”

“I will do so,” McGonagall turned to Dumbledore.  “I will gather the children and see that they are informed before the Prophet arrives.”

Dumbledore inclined his head and McGonagall left, taking an unhappy Slughorn with her.

Regulus wondered how much of Dumbledore’s work she had to perform. 

“Melania…” began Dumbledore.

“As I said, Albus, our mind is made up on this,” Grams said sharply.  “We’re taking Regulus and Barty home today.  They will miss nothing of importance.”

“They will miss the Leaving Feast,” Dumbledore protested. 

Grams lifted an eyebrow.  “And while I concede such things are an integral part of school life, it won’t harm them to miss it this once.” She glared at Dumbledore.  “We will not compromise the boys’ safety.”

“Hogwarts is perfectly safe!” Dumbledore proclaimed.

“Except, sir, that many of the upper years in all the Houses have already talked about joining the Knights,” Regulus spoke up.  “I suspect some already have.”

Dumbledore blinked at him as though confused by the news. 

Grams stood up and glowered at Dumbledore.  “Well, I rather think that underlines my decision!”

Dumbledore raised his hands in a gesture of supplication.  He got to his feet slowly and glanced at Regulus. “I will investigate but I do not believe there is cause for concern.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Grams levelled a disgusted look at Dumbledore.  “Mobey!”

Mobey popped in, her over-large ears flapping as she realised where she was.

“Is everything ready?” asked Grams.

Mobey nodded quickly.  “All Master Regulus and Bartemius’ things are home.”

“Good job, Mobey, you may leave,” Grams confirmed.  She gestured for them to rise as Mobey popped away.  “We will take our leave, Albus, and I suggest you get your own house in order.”

“Melania, I would urge you to…” 

“Do continuing talking, Albus,” Grams snapped, “Arcturus and I have already discussed how lovely it would be to have the boys attend Beauxbatons and be at home with us in Paris.”

Dumbledore subsided.

“Come, boys!” Grams ordered.  “We’ll walk to the Three Broomsticks and floo from there.”

“You may, of course, use my fireplace,” hurried out Dumbledore.

His Grams stared at the Headmaster for a long moment.  “Very well,” she gestured, “Sirius, you go ahead first.”

She sent Barty next and Regulus third.  He nodded a polite goodbye to the Headmaster in the same way his brother had done.  He was glad when the green flames spun him away and tossed him out onto the hearth at Blackhaven.

Sirius immediately moved to assist him, banishing the ash from his clothes and soothing his bumps from the landing.  Regulus used the opportunity to hug him properly and smiled at Rosemary Crouch who was welcoming Barty home.

His Grams elegantly stepped out of the fireplace a moment later.  “Interfering old coot!  I should have cursed him bald!”

Regulus grinned and a second later found himself wrapped in a grandmotherly hug.  She eased back and gave a nod of satisfaction. 

“What happened?” asked Regulus urgently.  “Where’s Gamps?  You said we were attacked and…”

Grams held up a hand.  “Your grandfather is at the Ministry, but he should be home soon.  Come along, we’ll have tea in the living room and tell you all about it.”

Sirius slung an arm around Regulus’ shoulders as they followed their grandmother out of the Floo room, Barty and his mother just a step behind them.  “We’re OK, Reggie,” he whispered in Regulus’ ear, “I promise.”

Regulus felt his worry ease.  Maybe they had been attacked, but they were together and they were home; nothing else mattered.

Chapter 5: Past & Present Rituals

Arcturus tapped his fingers against his cane.

He glanced around the packed Minister’s office taking in the gathering with ill-concealed impatience as Harold Minchum waffled about the historical origins of the Knights of Walpurgis.  The Heads of Houses who had been attacked had all been called to the office; they were meant to be hearing the Head Auror’s report not listening to Harold babble.

His fellow Sentinels Edwin Bones and Charlus Potter were both staring at Harold with aggrieved annoyance and Gerald Longbottom seemed a half minute away from cursing their Minister.  Tiberius Ogden appeared to have fallen asleep with his eyes open.  Septimus Weasley caught Arcturus’ eye and rolled his.  It was unseemly but frankly Arcturus was hard pressed not to roll his own. 

On the other side of the office, Chief Inspector Humphrey Graves, who Arcturus guessed had been called because the attacks had also targeted Sentinels and Guides, looked perturbed.  John Whittaker, the Head of the DMLE stood expressionless next to him, but Alastor Moody, his Head Auror, didn’t bother to hide the disgust on his scarred face.  Even Dumbledore, who’d arrived breathless and completely uninvited just before they’d shut the door, had an expression of faint horror he couldn’t quite hide.

“Harold!” Arcturus dived in as the Minister paused for breath.  “Get a hold of yourself!  We need a serious discussion on how we’re going to deal with idiots, not a theoretical discourse!”

“Thank Merlin!” Septimus muttered.

“Huh?” Tiberius jerked suddenly and blinked owlishly around the room.  “Ah, good.  You’ve finally finished panicking, Harold.”

Harold deflated like a popped balloon. 

“Alastor?” Charlus cleared his throat.  “Perhaps we should hear your report now?”

The Head Auror gave a grim nod.  “The attack by the Knights of Walpurgis began at midnight.  They hit six Ancient and Noble Houses in a coordinated way.  Four of the attacks were intercepted before any property damage due to their warding.  The Ogdens and the Weasleys both suffered fire damage and graffiti.”

“Blood traitors!” Septimus growled.  “Like I haven’t heard that one before!”

“In total, sixteen perpetrators were counted,” Moody continued.  “They were all decked out in the black robes and white masks.  Some used portkeys to get away, most apparated. We were unable to capture any of them.”

Arcturus grimaced, grumpy at his own failure to keep Lestrange from portkeying.

Moody looked as happy as he felt.  “We do have one identified thanks to Lord Black.” He pointed at Arcturus and there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.  “And he was missing his lower legs thanks to Lady Black – tell her very nice aim from me.”

“She removed Lestrange’s legs from him?” questioned Dumbledore, appalled.  “That’s terrible!”

“You’re right,” Arcturus informed him bluntly.  “Next time she’ll aim for the head!”

Dumbledore’s mouth fell open.

Humphrey coughed.  “As an active Sentinel and Guide protecting their home and grandson, the Council has no issues with the measures the Blacks undertook in their own defence, Chief Warlock.”

“Neither does the DMLE,” Whittaker declared.  He had taken over after Crouch Senior had been quietly removed and sentenced for his crimes and Arcturus had no problem with the down-to-earth Yorkshireman.

“Getting back to Lestrange,” Moody snapped, “we raided his apartment, but it looks like he hasn’t lived there in a while.  His brother and sister-in-law claimed to have no knowledge of his whereabouts.  They allowed us to search the Lestrange townhouse and he definitely wasn’t there.”

Charlus’ eyebrows rose.  “Isn’t the House of Lestrange a cadet member of the House of Black, Arcturus?”

Arcturus shook his head.  “Cygnus requested it when he married Bellatrix off to Rodolphus, but I refused.”

“Why?” asked Harold.  He flushed as he suddenly realised the impertinence of his question.  “Forgive me, but if the reason was why you were included in the attack, perhaps it is worth sharing?”

Arcturus considered what he could share.  “Guides often sense something about a person which unsettles them,” he said, “such was the case with the Lestranges.” He lifted a hand from his cane.  “As a Sentinel I cannot ignore the suspicion.  I told Rodolphus that once they had proven their oaths over time, I’d consider an application for cadetship then.”

He wasn’t about to tell the gathering that while his own Guide had backed their grandson, it had been Sirius who’d called them a threat to the Tribe.  In fact, Sirius had protested the whole marriage and he didn’t like Bellatrix.  Unfortunately, Arcturus couldn’t do anything about the marriage itself.  The days of the Lord of the House having absolute and legal authority on who the members of the family wed were long over.  Permission was usually sought, but Cygnus and Rodolphus were arrogant enough not to do that, and whatever her own feelings about the match, Bellatrix had consented to marrying the Belgian toe-rag.

“That seems reasonable enough,” Gerald noted gruffly.  “Certainly not enough of a reason to get the hump and attack you!”

“It is very odd that you were included,” Edwin said.  “The rest of us are part of the same alliance in the Wizengamot.  We’re known to be fully against the agenda these blasted hooligans are touting!  But the House of Black is typically traditionalist and whatever happened on the cadetship, Lestrange is linked to you by marriage!”

Moody exchanged a look with Humphrey and Arcturus raised his eyebrow in mute query.  Humphrey made a quiet signal which told Arcturus that they’d confer later.

Harold leaned forward.  “But the House of Black has championed more progressive measures for muggleborns in the last few years and has abstained on traditional votes where once your vote would be guaranteed.”

Arcturus frowned.  “Your point, Minister?”

“I believe the Minister is alluding to the fact that we are not the only people to realise that your House no longer follows a strict pureblood agenda,” Dumbledore noted cheerfully enough for Arcturus to imagine strangling the old wizard with his beard.  “Perhaps Lestrange was hoping to destabilise your alliance by effectively placing you in the same company as those on the Light.”

Arcturus gave an elegant shrug, although he wanted to bristle at the implication that any politics not aligned to Dumbledore’s agenda were Dark.  The world wasn’t so black and white.  Not that it mattered; he wasn’t about to explain how Sirius, and to a lesser degree Regulus, had influenced his politics from the moment he’d taken custody of his grandsons.

“So, what are you doing to find these cretins?” asked Gerald breaking the tense silence which had sprung up.

Harold made noises of resources and the full attention of the Ministry and Arcturus repressed the urge to sigh.  It all added up to a whole lot of nothing.  Sod it, thought Arcturus, he would investigate himself.

The meeting was dismissed a moment later and the Lords of the Wizengamot filed out of the Minister’s office.  The only small blessing was that just as it seemed Dumbledore was going to speak to him, Minchum collared the Chief Warlock and asked him to stay behind.  Arcturus was only just able to keep his face clear of his glee.

“Well, that was a waste of time!” Charlus declared.  “I’m telling my family to raise the war wards.  Let’s see if the bastards like those when they come calling next!”  He saluted the group and headed off to the lifts.

“That sounds bloody and excellent,” Gerald said.  He tipped his overly large bowler hat with its large vulture feather and walked away.

Tiberius sighed.  “I’d better visit the damn Goblins and get my ward matrix refreshed.  Damn it!”

“I’ll come with you,” Septimus said. 

They both made their goodbyes.

Edwin turned to him. 

“Take care, Arcturus,” Edwin glanced at the hovering Humphrey waiting behind him.  “Somehow I don’t think you were targeted because of your politics.” He was gone before Arcturus could respond.

Arcturus allowed himself a small growl of frustration and turned to Humphrey.  “Yes?”

“Follow me, Arcturus,” Humphrey gestured at him. 

The Chief Investigator led him confidently through the Ministry and into the corridors of the DMLE.  A few minutes later they were ensconced in Whittaker’s office.

Moody lurked in a corner and nodded as Humphrey and Arcturus took seats in front of Whittaker’s desk.  A second later, the Head of Department of Mysteries swept in.   Smith Hooper-Bell was tall, with messy black hair and piercing blue eyes.  His aristocratic and otter-like face should not have been attractive, but Melania sighed over the man every time she met him.

Arcturus hated him on principle.

Whittaker secured the room with a brief wave of his wand and nodded at Arcturus.  He sat ramrod straight in his chair, his neat suit and robes, along with the military style haircut of his dull brown hair and serious brown eyes, gave him an air of competence. “Thank you for coming along with the Chief Inspector, Lord Black.”

“I don’t think I had very much of a choice,” Arcturus commented dryly.  “I assume from the looks exchanged during that debacle of a meeting, you know why my family was targeted?”

“Yes,” Humphrey said.  “And apologies for corralling you, but it was critical we all spoke with you given recent events.  Would you like us to call Melania here before we begin?”

Arcturus suspected he was going to hate why it was critical.  “No,” he replied, knowing Melania would likely give him hell for going it alone later, but she was needed where she was. “She’s with the boys.”

“Right, well,” Whittaker cleared his throat, “there’s increasing evidence that the attacks from the Knights of Walpurgis are hiding another agenda.” He tapped his wand on the wall and the illusion of panelled wood fell away revealing a crime board.

Arcturus looked at it intently.

“Here,” Whittaker said getting up and tapping two reports pinned to the far left.  “After the first attack on Diagon Alley, the apothecary reported it had things stolen including ingredients, cauldrons and expensive stirrers.  Two weeks later, Madame Malkin found she was missing entire bolts of black silk after the arson attack on her neighbour.  Two weeks after that, after an attack on Diamond Row, a jewelled athame from Sparkles Sparkles was found missing.”

“Ritual items,” Arcturus noted.  “They were gathering the items required to perform a ritual.”

“Exactly,” Hooper-Bell said with a hint of a sneer.  “The attack on Ottery Saint Catchpole covered for ancient bones being stolen from the cemetery mausoleum.”

“On the night Hogsmeade was attacked, we think they tried the actual ritual itself,” Moody gruffly spoke up.  “There was a ritual circle left drawn in the woods behind the town, a dead body on an altar of bone in the centre.”

A ritual circle and an altar of bone…that sounded like…

“We think they tried to recreate the ritual your late daughter-in-law died attempting,” Hooper-Bell said bluntly.

Arcturus absorbed the blow stoically.  He stayed still despite the urge to erupt from his chair and pace the office.  He reached out for the bond with his Guide and found it resonating with love and purpose.  It soothed the rage that flowed through him and he sent a nudge of reassurance back, hoping it would dissuade Melania from storming the Ministry to find out what had angered him.

Humphrey waved a wand and an image of the ritual circle sprang into the centre of the room.  “This was the circle in Hogsmeade.”

Arcturus got up.  He walked around the hovering image and reviewed the runes.  He grimaced; they were the same as the ones he’d examined in his basement the night he’d lost his son.

“These are the same runes,” he confirmed.

“Yes, we already knew that,” Hooper-Bell stated brusquely.

“Smith,” remonstrated Whittaker sharply.

The Head of the DOM looked over at Whittaker with wide surprised eyes as though he was completely unsure why he’d been scolded.  Perhaps, he really didn’t understand, Arcturus mused; Hooper-Bell had all the social skills of a toddler.

Humphrey cleared his throat.  “I was brought into investigate because of my previous experience and because they used a muggle Sentinel child in the ritual.”

Arcturus frowned, acknowledging that his assumption about Humphrey’s presence had been wrong.  “I thought the Prophet said they used a goat?”

Moody grimaced.  “The bloody reporter overheard an Auror talking about the case and thought the word ‘kid’ referred to a baby goat.”

“They sacrificed a Sentinel child,” Arcturus stated out loud.  The memory of Regulus as a naked baby lying atop the altar filled his head for a long moment.  If Sirius hadn’t protected his brother…

“Tell us about the ritual, Lord Black,” Whittaker asked firmly, if respectfully, regaining his attention.  “The more we know about it the better.”

Arcturus sat back down and clasped the top of his cane.  “It’s an old blood ritual used to harvest the power of a Sentinel child and transfer it to a wizard or witch to increase their magical power.  It was outlawed over a century ago.” He sighed heavily.  “However, it was detailed in one of the old Black journals stored in the library of Grimmauld Place.” 

“We, my investigative team,” Humphrey added, “believed that was where Walburga became aware of it.”

“Who else would have knowledge of it?” asked Whittaker.

“Walburga, Irma and her sister died in their attempt,” Arcturus bit out.  “Melania and I destroyed the copy in the library as soon as we had identified it as the likely source.”

“But your family would have had the opportunity for years to read about that ritual,” stated Hooper-Bell.

Arcturus raised his eyebrow.  “Is that an accusation?”

“More like an observation,” inserted Whittaker, casting a ‘be careful’ look at his colleague.

“You think a member of my family provided the Knights with information on the ritual?” checked Arcturus, his blood beginning to simmer just at the thought of it. 

“Lestrange is a connection to both,” pointed out Moody gruffly.

“Perhaps,” Arcturus conceded, “but the ritual isn’t a Black family secret, it was purportedly created by Slytherin and passed down to favoured members of his House at Hogwarts until the turn of the century.”

Hooper-Bell nodded in agreement.  “As I have been pointing out for days.”

“The point is that the ritual failed,” Humphrey said.  “They killed the child but whatever energy transference they attempted didn’t work.”

“How do you know?” asked Arcturus.

“A witness,” Humphrey informed him crisply.  “An old beggar man was sleeping in a ditch nearby and woke up when masked figures began to invoke the circle.”

“He stayed where he was out of fear,” Moody said, looking annoyed at Humphrey for telling him.  “He watched the whole thing.  The memory is pretty clear for all that he’s addled.”

“A priestess performs the ritual and kills the child,” Hooper-Bell reported dispassionately, “but the psionic energy never appears.”

Humphrey sighed.  “The wizard in charge, the one who looked as though he would receive the transference, cursed the priestess for her failure and then…”

“Some kind of animal moved out of the woods on the other side of the circle and the lot of them ran like headless chickens,” Moody finished.

Arcturus frowned as he put the pieces together.  “They targeted my House because they want to know more about the ritual before they try it again.  You think they were hoping to steal something related to the ritual?”

“Not something but someone,” Hooper-Bell stated bluntly before the others could reply, “we think they intended kidnapping your grandson.”

His grandson.

The Knights of Walpurgis had been after Sirius.

“He’s the only witness to what happened that night,” Whittaker added, almost apologetically.

“We know we’re not going to be able to keep you or Melania out of it, Arcturus, so what do you say to working with us and taking these bastards down?” Humphrey asked.

Arcturus nodded, his silver eyes, molten and furious as he met Humphrey’s beseeching gaze.  “Count me and my Guide in.”

And across the spirit plane, the wolves howled their agreement. 

Chapter 6: Walking the Path

In his dreams, Sirius walked between worlds.  It was the path of the Shaman, and Sirius had always been surefooted.  After all, he’d walked the path since he was three years old.

Padfoot, his Grim walked beside him, a steady solid presence as the Otherworld mists gathered around them.  Sometimes Sirius would catch a glimpse of a shining white coat ahead and it was a comfort to know his Sentinel’s stag was near after what he had discovered that day.

He made his way down the path towards the river.  It was the first place he had ever found in the Otherworld, and it always soothed him.  He went down to the riverbank and watched the slow-moving water, it’s steady and relentless progress over the wide brown and green river stones.  A few steps away, a rickety old bridge made of the branches of elder trees spanned the width of the river, disappearing into the mist on the other side.

Sirius settled into his usual spot, sheltering in the embrace of an old elder tree.  Its trunk was thick, as wide as the dining table at Blackhaven, and its sturdy branches reached skyward like a wizard with many arms reaching for the sky.  He always felt at home nestled into its bark, its gnarled roots poking out of the ground around him before they disappeared into the riverbank.  Padfoot guarded him, a sphinx-like barrier between him and the river.

For a long moment, Sirius focused on his breathing, on the fresh, clean scent of the river. 

The day had turned into a nightmare. 

His lips twisted in dry humour at that thought since the day had started with the attack by the Knights of Walpurgis.

He remembered the panic of the wards screaming through his sleep, the rush to his grandparents, apparating without a thought to his own safety at seeing his Gamps confronting their attackers…

He could barely remember the fight itself; he’d been focused on simply defending himself, trying to stop the intruder who’d focused on him from getting close enough to land a spell.  He’d managed to chase him off with the help of Padfoot and he’d felt proud of that accomplishment.  He’d protected his family and his home.

Merlin, but his grandparents were scary.

They’d managed to injure one of the attackers enough that they’d identified him. 

Rasbastan Lestrange.

Sirius remembered him from Bellatrix’s wedding.  Apart from Alphard and Logan, and later Andy and Ted when they’d married, he and Regulus had never spent a great deal of time with the rest of the Black family.  He knew his Grams hated Pollux and had no love for Uncle Cygnus and his harpy of a wife.  But Bella’s wedding had been something none of them could avoid. 

His Grams had spelled both Regulus and him so they’d be ignored by anyone outside the family as a safety precaution.  Rasbastan Lestrange had ignored them, but Sirius had been able to observe him. 

The Lestranges were part of Belgian nobility.  One of their great-great uncles had migrated to Britain and had established a minor House.  But the British side of the family had dwindled in numbers and when Ramond Lestrange had died, as his distant cousin, it had been Rodolphus Lestrange who had inherited the British seat on the Wizengamot, the Lestrange manor and what was left of the House’s wealth.

Rodolphus was dirty.  His magic stank of decay and the taint of evil deeds.  His brother was the same, but there was an underlying hint of subservience to Rodolphus, as though he had no will of his own.  Sirius had protested about the Lestranges, but his grandfather had been unable to do much to prevent the marriage. 

Sirius might have protested more, but it wasn’t as though Bellatrix was an innocent either.  There was a streak of cruelty in her that reminded him far too much of Walburga at her worst.  Perhaps her magic wasn’t as twisted as her husband’s, but it was twisted.

It didn’t surprise him at all to realise Rasbastan Lestrange had joined the Knights of Walpurgis.  It also didn’t surprise him that Bella and Rodolphus were under suspicion.  He figured that the Aurors’ plan to watch them would come to nothing.  They were dirty, but they were clever.

The Aurors…

Sirius sighed as he recalled how his Gamps had arrived home from the Ministry upset and angry.  It had taken most of the day before Grams had calmed him down enough for the two of them to inform Regulus and Sirius of the reason why they’d been attacked by the Knights.

That thrice-damned ritual.

Sirius shivered.

He didn’t want to think about the ritual, about that night.  He was going to have to talk with the Aurors though, Sirius thought grumpily.  Apparently, his Gamps had agreed to work with them.     

Sirius didn’t want to talk to the Aurors about the ritual.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone about the ritual and what he remembered.  He had to protect Regulus, Sirius mused; that was the only thing that was important.  But he had no idea what he was going to tell them, not the Aurors nor his grandparents.  He’d never told them the full truth of it and he never could.

However, Sirius knew that it wasn’t the attack or the likelihood that the Knights had been there to kidnap him which was why he considered the day a nightmare…

His Sentinel.

He’d found his Sentinel…and they were in love with someone else.

“Such deep thoughts, child.”

Sirius made room for the woman who had simply appeared out of thin air.  Padfoot lifted its head and seemed to sigh at the sight of the petite stout figure.

“Gaea,” Sirius bowed his head respectfully.

The personification of Mother Earth, of Lady Magic, smoothed the dark folds of her robe and lifted the hood to reveal a wizened pale face, wrinkled with age, topped with short silver hair.  Her deep blue eyes seemed fathomless.  She was Life and Death, and the Otherworld was her domain.  Sirius had known her since his first trip into the realm when she had gifted him her Grim.

“You are troubled,” Gaea murmured.  “You always come here when you are troubled.”

“The Knights of Walpurgis,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“Ah,” her smile turned cruel and satisfied, “I was happy to receive the youngest Lestrange.”

“He died?” checked Sirius, surprised.

“He received no aid as that was his punishment in failing to secure you,” Gaea said, “no Knight, not even Rodolphus was willing to forfeit their own life to save his.”

“Some brother!” Sirius shook his head.  He would always help Regulus, no matter what the risk to himself.

“You are a good brother,” Gaea said.  “Rodolphus Lestrange is no brother at all.”

Sirius shifted position a little.  “They wanted to kidnap me.”

“More fool he who leads them,” Gaea said, reaching out to tuck Sirius’ hair behind his ear.  “You are mine hand on Earth.”

And there it was; the reason why he could never tell anyone the truth about what had happened the night of the ritual.  He’d accepted the duty as a toddler, heartsick and desperate to save his brother.  At sixteen, he understood more about what that duty meant, and he wouldn’t renege on his agreement.  He had a duty as a Guide, as a wizard.

“You have a good soul,” Gaea said.

“Then why does my Sentinel love someone else!” Sirius blurted out.

Gaea looked at him fondly.  “James Potter will love you in time,” she soothed, “right now he knows you only as his beloved Padfoot, the Grim who visits him in his dreams and listens to his sorrows and his victories.”

“I just…” Sirius bit his lip.  “I thought…I wanted him to know me straight away, to love me straight away.  I guess that was foolish.”

“It is not foolish to wish for my stag to walk beside you in more than spirit when the Guide within you yearns for your Sentinel,” Gaea chided gently.  “But you must know just as you have a duty on this Earth so does he; his love for Lily Evans will create its own gift.” 

She waved a hand in the direction of the riverbank.

A small child appeared on the grass.  He sat in his nappy seemingly entranced with pulling up blades of grass; his tousled dark hair, bright green eyes, and cheeky grin were adorable.

Sirius was almost floored by the wave of love that rushed through him as he recognised the child, despite never knowing of them before.  “Harry.”

His son, but also James’ son with Lily.

The stag wandered out of the woods and took up a position guarding Harry.

“All things must come to pass,” Gaea said.  “Trust and walk your path, Sirius Black.” 

She faded before his eyes.  Harry gurgled brightly, waving his chubby arms before he too disappeared along with the stag, leaving Sirius alone with his Grim on the riverbank…

Sirius blinked awake.

Sunlight streamed into his bedroom through the open curtains. 

It was morning.

Sirius groaned and rubbed his face tiredly.  It felt like he’d hardly slept.  Padfoot jumped up on the bed and nudged his hand.  He rubbed the silky black head and sighed. 

“Potter also calls you Padfoot?” He wondered absently.  He couldn’t quite remember ever naming the Grim; he’d just always called him Padfoot.

Padfoot gave him a doggy grin.

Sirius allowed a small smile of his own.  “I guess we should think up a name for his stag.”

Padfoot pushed his head into Sirius’ hands, begging for more petting.

“You really visit him in his dreams?” questioned Sirius.

Padfoot just looked at him.

“Alright,” Sirius murmured, “I guess his stag visits us so…it makes sense that you’d visit him.”

Padfoot huffed and batted his head against Sirius’s hand.

Sirius scratched behind the Grim’s ear and let his mind drift back to the riverbank. 

He had needed the reassurance about his Sentinel’s love.  He’d been so disappointed the day before.  He’d seen James Potter across the hall and just known.  But his Sentinel hadn’t even looked at him; Potter’s attention had been on the redhead next to him.  Gaea had called her Lily Evans. 

He felt a resurgence of the jealousy which had eaten at him the day before; the insecurity that his Sentinel was going to choose someone else.  That Sirius himself wasn’t going to be enough.

He sighed.    

He was still disappointed that Potter hadn’t felt the same instant recognition, but it soothed him to know that Potter – James would come to love him.  His mind conjured up the image of the baby Gaea had shown him…

His son.

Harry was just…his son was brilliant.  It didn’t even matter to Sirius whether Harry was all James and Lily, or a surrogacy heir where he’d be a mix of all three of them.  Harry was amazing.

Merlin.

He was going to be a Dad.

Which was weird because he was still sixteen and a virgin.

Sirius flushed bright red. 

Sure, he’d explored his own body with the bedroom door locked shut and under the cover of privacy spells.  He’d woken from dreams with his underwear damp and sticky, but he’d never kissed anyone.  He’d never even been on a date. 

Personal tutoring and a lack of peers thanks to his sheltered existence as a Guide hadn’t provided him with many opportunities to gain some experience.  And even if they had, Sirius considered wryly, he secretly liked the idea of his Sentinel being his first kiss; his first lover.

He guessed James might not share the same sentiment if he believed himself in love with Lily.  Probably James had been on dates, had kissed someone.  He could ask Regulus for the gossip…

No.

He was not asking Regulus.  Regulus would want to know why, and Sirius wasn’t prepared to confide in anyone that he’d found his Sentinel, not when James was so clearly stuck on someone else.  Not when Regulus had found his Guide so easily and was no doubt gaining his own experience with Barty.  Merlin, Regulus was probably more experienced than Sirius!

Sirius felt his heart sink again.

Would his lack of experience be an issue for James when they did get together? 

Padfoot licked his face.

“EWW!”

Sirius grimaced and immediately spelled the slobber away.  He glared at the Grim who offered another doggy grin in return.

“Alright,” Sirius conceded, “I might be obsessing over this a touch too much, but he’s my Sentinel!  I just want him to like me.”

Padfoot snuggled closer and Sirius sighed as he accepted the comfort.

There was a sharp knock on the door.  He felt his Grams’ presence behind the wood.

Sirius sat up and called for her to enter as he shut off the privacy spells.  She looked elegant and pristine as always despite the early hour, wearing an everyday robe in a purple colour over a dress in a blue and purple Paisley print.

“Grams,” Sirius tucked the bedsheets around him as she stepped into the room.

“Good, you’re up,” Grams said.  “The investigative team will be here in two hours so you need to get dressed and have breakfast.”

Sirius nodded, acknowledging the implicit order.

He was surprised when his Grams hesitated in her turn back to the door.  She made her way properly inside and sat beside him on the bed, the door closing with a wave of her wand.  Her blue eyes seemed to examine him intently.

“You were quiet yesterday,” Grams said softly, as she reached out and cupped his cheek lightly before letting go.  “Are you worried about the Knights making another attempt?  Because you have to know your Gamps and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sirius felt his heart squeeze at her absolute certainty in her ability to protect him.  “I know.”

“Then, what are you worrying over?” Grams pressed lightly.

“Everything, I guess,” Sirius mumbled, not wanting to admit how finding his Sentinel had tied him in knots.

Grams hummed.  “You don’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius sighed heavily.  There were times he hated that his Grams was also a Guide and fully able to read him.  “Nope.”

She sighed softly as she examined his face.  “I know there’s a lot you don’t tell us anymore, Sirius.  You’re a young man and you’re entitled to your secrets.  But I want you to always remember that we’re here to listen whenever you do feel ready to talk about what worries you.”

“I know,” Sirius said again.  He reached out and she immediately moved to hug him.  He breathed in her perfume, a light flowery fragrance that he always associated with her.  He remembered how it had comforted him as a child.  In the days after she and Gamps had taken custody it had reminded him that she wasn’t his mother.  “I love you, Grams.”

“I love you too,” Grams eased back and kissed his forehead.  She got up and walked back to the door.  “Wear something smart but casual for your interview with the Aurors.”

Sirius nodded. 

She left the room, closing the door behind her and Sirius fell back on his pillows and stared at the ceiling.

The interview with the Aurors.

He’d almost forgotten about that.

Padfoot barked at him.

Maybe, Sirius considered with a frown, he should focus more on what he was going to tell the Aurors and less on his lack of sexual experience and his Sentinel.

Chapter 7: Questions of Power

Melania was relieved when only Humphrey and Alastor showed up to interview Sirius.  She really didn’t know Whittaker at all and as much as she loved Smith and his eccentricities, he could be a lot to take.  She greeted them warmly and led them through to Arcturus’ study where Sirius was waiting with her Sentinel, Alphard and her daughter. 

Alphard and Lucretia were ostensibly there to help with planning Sirius’ Heir presentation once they were done with the interview, but Lucretia had also offered to sit in as Sirius’ legal representative, and Alphard had insisted on being there to support his nephew. 

Melania briefly reached out with her gifts to check on Regulus and Barty in the library.  They’d decided to make a start on their holiday homework.  She was relieved to have them busy and out of the way while Sirius was interviewed.

She was worried about Sirius.  He’d been too quiet the previous evening and she sensed that it wasn’t the attack which was preying on his mind.  She sighed inwardly.  In many ways, she wished he was still a child who she could cajole into telling her what was wrong.  Patience, Melania told herself sternly.  Sirius would confide in them when he was ready.

She entered the study confidently. 

Her family sat in the seating area in front of the fireplace; two large leather sofas were teamed with four comfortable matching chairs, all set out in a square formation.  There was a large wooden coffee table in the centre. 

Sirius rose from his place on one of the sofas at the same time as Arcturus who had sat next to him.  Lucretia had taken the nearest armchair to her father; Alphard perched on its arm rather than the chair next to it. 

She was pleased to see that they were all wearing smart clothing, matched with everyday robes to lend a more casual air. 

“Everyone, Head Auror Alastor Moody, Chief Inspector Humphrey Graves of the Council,” Melania introduced them briskly, “you both know Arcturus, of course.  Let me introduce you both firstly to Sirius Orion, the Heir to the House of Black and our grandson.”

Sirius bowed his head.  “I’m honoured to meet you both.”

Melania gave him a proud nod.  He’d followed her instructions and was very smart with his hair tied back and in grey robes over black jeans and a grey button-down shirt. 

“Alastor, I believe you’re familiar with everyone else,” Melania continued, “Humphrey, this is my daughter Lady Lucretia Prewett and our cousin, Sentinel Alphard Black, the current proxy for the House of Black in the Wizengamot.”

There was a general murmur of greetings as Melania ushered them all into seats, taking the seat on the other side of Sirius which had been left free for her.  Refreshments appeared on the coffee table with impeccable timing.

She wasn’t surprised when Humphrey took the lead.

“Sirius,” Humphrey began, sitting forward to peer at Sirius over the expanse of the table, “thank you for agreeing to meet with us.  I want to assure you that this is simply a follow-up interview to your previous…statement on the ritual.”

Sirius nodded slowly.  “So, you don’t have any questions about the night before last and the attack by the Knights?”

“No, lad,” Alastor responded before Humphrey could speak, “the memory you supplied via your grandfather was sufficient.”  A gleam entered his eyes and he smiled at Sirius.  “Although I will take this opportunity to say you handled yourself well.  Good form and use of spells.  I understand you hit him with a time-delayed hex at the end?”

“Yes,” Sirius said, “whoever it is will have ‘guilty’ stamped on their forehead the moment they enter the Ministry.” 

Alphard grinned.  “You got that out of my pranking journal!”

Melania shot him a look to behave and tried to ignore Alphard’s spiky short hair.  At least, he’d worn a robe over the muggle style grey suit.

“Well, you have great instincts,” Alastor said, “if you’re interested in joining the department once you’ve sat your NEWTs, I’ll happily accept you as an apprentice.”

Melania almost choked on her tea.  She only just managed to swallow the mouthful she’d taken without issue.  She could feel Arcturus’ shock through their bond.

Sirius looked dumbfounded.  “You want me as an apprentice?”

It was a great honour to be chosen as an apprentice by someone with Moody’s reputation.  Melania was torn between pride and horror at the idea of Sirius going into such a dangerous profession.

“Perhaps, Alastor,” Arcturus said, showing his own thoughts on the matter with a hint of his wolf’s bite in his tone, “you could refrain from the recruitment speech until after Sirius turns seventeen?”

“Never too early to get a promising recruit started,” Alastor shot back.

“I’m honoured you’d consider me,” Sirius jumped in with a darting glance at Arcturus.  “But you may not realise that I’m a Guide so…”

“All the better,” Alastor said, “Sentinel and Guide pairs make the best partners.”

“Moody,” Arcturus glared at him pointedly.

“Alright, alright,” Alastor lifted a hand in surrender, “I’ll leave it alone for now.”

Humphrey cleared his throat.  “And needless to say, I’ll leave it alone also, but would like to point out that the Council could also always use good investigators.”

Sirius flushed, a streak of red across his cheekbones. 

“Before both of you cause my father to combust, perhaps we can return to the actual purpose of this interview?” Lucretia interjected, amusement lighting up her silver eyes.

Melania sent her an approving look.  Her daughter looked more like Melania every day except for her eyes.  Lucretia was trim and well-presented in smart grey robes, with her mink brown hair neatly styled in a classic chignon.

“Of course,” Humphrey said smoothly.  He flipped open the leather folder he’d placed on the table and extracted a parchment.  He floated it over to Arcturus.  “This is the statement you made as a child the day after the ritual.”

Arcturus checked the parchment and handed it to Sirius. 

Sirius read it with wide-eyed curiosity. 

“As you can see, you were unable to provide much information to investigators at the time,” Humphrey commented.

“He was three,” Alphard said defensively. 

“He was still able to convey the facts,” Alastor pointed out.  “His father was away.  His mother’s elf fed the baby a potion, but it was his mother who collected his brother from the nursery.  Sirius followed her.  He saw her about to stab his brother.”

“He entered the circle and the Grim helped him,” Humphrey continued.  “He remembered wishing really hard that he wanted his father.”

Alastor turned back to Sirius.  “You did very well, even as a toddler.”

Sirius flushed again and placed the parchment on the table.  “I don’t remember making the statement.”

Humphrey smiled.  “You played with toys in your nursery and answered your grandmother’s questions when she asked them to you.”

Sirius looked at her and Melania nodded in confirmation.  Her heart ached at the memory of the bruised little boy, astonished at having toys to play with, and so eager to answer any question she’d asked him.

“Our understanding is that as an Heir you learn and master Occlumency before you can take your presentation.”

Alastor’s statement snagged Melania’s attention back to the interview.

Sirius nodded, but there was a cautious glint in his steady silver gaze.  “It’s tradition for the Blacks to do so, yes.”

“Would you consent to giving us a memory of the ritual in the same way you provided one of the attack the other night?” asked Humphrey boldly.

Sirius grimaced.  “I’m afraid I can’t consent to that.”

Melania felt Arcturus’ surprise resonate down their bond, matching her own.

“Were you unable to review the memory in your Occlumency training?” asked Arcturus before either of the investigators had a chance to react to the refusal. 

It wasn’t unusual for traumatic events to be difficult to tackle in Occlumency.

“That’s not the reason, Gamps,” Sirius murmured regretfully. 

Melania sensed his turmoil and reached over to place her hand on his arm.  Whatever reason Sirius had for refusing, she trusted that it was a good reason.

Sirius placed his hand over hers and turned back to Humphrey.  “I can’t provide the memory because it would go against the duty I have to protect the Tribe.”

“Because there’s something in it which would cause harm if known?” Alastor surmised.

Sirius nodded carefully. 

Alastor returned it with a brisk nod of his own.  “Understand that, lad, and Merlin knows we don’t want to make it any easier for the bastards.”

Melania exchanged a brief look with Arcturus.  It worried her that Sirius bore the weight of that memory alone and she knew her Sentinel felt the same.  She wondered if it was the memory which had preoccupied him the day before…but he’d been quiet before Arcturus had returned from the Ministry.

“So, if you can’t share the memory with us, is there anything you can tell us which would help us with the investigation?” asked Alastor.

Sirius pressed his lips together.  “The ritual is nothing more than a means to an end.”

“It’s a way of gaining power,” Alphard murmured, his eyes widening with understanding.  “My mother and sister wanted power; the ritual was just their means of securing it.”

“Yes,” Sirius nodded at his uncle. 

Alphard sighed as he responded to Alastor’s silent glare for more information.  “My mother wanted to be Lady Black, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, because she’d been promised from an early age to Arcturus.  Only…”

“Only I came online during the First World War and bonded with Melania,” Arcturus supplied gruffly.  “Instead she was betrothed to Pollux who was ten years younger than her.”  

“The ritual was part of a wider plan for Pollux to become Lord Black,” Melania jumped in.  “Pollux claimed he had no knowledge of the ritual itself.  He believed Irma’s machinations began and ended with marrying Orion to Walburga, and having their grandson take up the position of Lord Black in time.”

“We found evidence of the plot back in ‘sixty-two,” Humphrey noted to Alastor.  “But with the main perpetrators dead and no leads, the Council deemed it pointless to pursue it further; her plot was over after all.”

“You think we’re wrong focusing on the ritual itself,” Alastor said, pointing at Sirius.  “You think we should be looking for why someone thinks they need the power it provides.”

Sirius nodded. 

“See!” Alastor crowed at Arcturus.  “Good instincts!”

Humphrey shot Alastor a look.  He caught Sirius’ eye once again.  “Is there anything else you remember or think would be useful to know?”

Sirius tilted his head as he considered the questions, reminding Melania of his spirit guide.  He nodded slowly.  “When I recovered my early memories in Occlumency training, I remembered that Walburga was part of a coven of seven witches; they were there that day.  Walburga locked me in the nursery to prevent me getting underfoot.”

“Walburga, Irma and her sister make three.  Do you know the others’ names?” asked Humphrey.

“I think Aunt Druella was one; she was the youngest and quiet,” Sirius stated without flinching, “Lavinia Malfoy was there, I remember her hair.  The other two…one was of an age with Irma, and the other was younger.  Mother and daughter?  They looked alike.  I think the younger one was a friend of Walburga; I don’t remember her name – Walburga referred to her as Mouse.”

Alphard grimaced.  “Constance Goyle, although I think she married someone abroad.  Her mother, Enid, was my mother’s best friend.” He looked bemused.  “I think…I had forgotten until just now?”

“Likely you were obliviated of the knowledge by one of them,” Arcturus said angrily.

“Would all four have knowledge of the ritual?” asked Alastor bluntly.

Sirius gave an elegant shrug.  “I don’t know, I don’t remember hearing or seeing them when I followed Walburga to the basement.”

Melania felt a tremor shiver through her grandson, and she squeezed his arm gently.

“They weren’t in the house when we arrived,” Arcturus confirmed solemnly.  “I would Sensed them otherwise.”

“I think the other witches must have left when the circle was closed,” Melania mused out loud.  “The runes were very explicit about who they would allow into the circle and who they would not.  Blood of blood and nobody else.”

“Well, knowing the rest of Irma’s coven does give us some new avenues to explore,” Humphrey said diplomatically.

“You said there was a priestess with the Knights who attempted the ritual at Hogsmeade,” Arcturus pointed out.

“Yes,” Alastor’s grin was shark-like, “and what’s the betting it was one of them?”

Humphrey nodded at Sirius.  “We’ll start to look into why someone needs that ritual to gain power.”

Melania did not protest as Alastor and Humphrey gathered their things.  She allowed Lucretia to see them out and stayed beside Sirius and her Sentinel.

“I’m sorry, Arcturus, I can’t believe I didn’t remember about the coven!” Alphard proclaimed as soon as their visitors were out of earshot.

“I suspect that it was the obliviation which brought you online,” Arcturus sighed.  “We were focused on Sirius and Regulus, but it was always suspicious how you came online without any kind of trigger.  A reaction to Orion’s death was an easy answer.”

Alphard sighed and threw himself into an armchair. 

Melania shot him a disapproving look at his behaviour.  “Perhaps you should meditate and see if you can retrieve those memories?  You may learn who obliviated you at least.”

Alphard nodded, but his attention was on Sirius.  “What’s wrong, Sirius?”

“It just…” Sirius sighed.  “It just feels odd that they didn’t uncover the coven then.”  He gestured toward Alphard.  “I mean, fair enough, it looks like there was a cover-up, but why didn’t anyone ask more questions?”

“He’s right,” Lucretia said, walking back into the room.

Melania sent her daughter a questioning look as she sat down beside Alphard. 

“Someone should have asked more questions,” Lucretia said.  She picked up her abandoned cup of coffee.  “Like why did Orion who had been diagnosed as dormant come online at all that night?  And who would believe Irma was the leader, especially now we know the coven contained a Malfoy?  The Crabbes and Goyles are nothing more than their sycophantic minions.  There should have been more questions.”

“Lucretia…” began Melania with a touch of angry defensiveness.  She could feel Arcturus also bristling under the perceived criticism.

“Not from you, Mother,” Lucretia waved a hand at her and offered an apologetic smile, “nor Father.  You were both drowning under the weight of suddenly becoming parents to a fully online Alpha Guide and a tiny latent Sentinel, and the shock of losing your son.”  She frowned.  “I’m also going to give myself a pass because I was a mess at losing Orion and Alphard because he clearly did ask questions, got himself obliviated and then came online as a defence.”

“Thank you,” Alphard said dryly.

“But why didn’t the Council or the DMLE pursue it further?” asked Lucretia pointedly, with the sharpness of wit which had seen her excel as a solicitor.

“The Chief Inspector said they thought the plot was over,” Sirius said.

Melania felt her blood freeze in her veins.  “Or someone was bribed to drop it.” 

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Alphard said.  “Someone’s been working against us for a while.”

“Alphard…” Arcturus started to protest.

“No, Arcturus,” Alphard said firmly, “I’ve told you on multiple occasions that our leadership of the alliance is being challenged, that there’s unrest in the family, and you need to stop dismissing my concerns as unimportant. I take my share of the blame.  Maybe if I was less…me, the others would take me more seriously.”

“I take full responsibility, Alphard,” Arcturus sighed, “I ignored Orion’s concerns and I’ve ignored your concerns; that’s on me.  I’ve relied too much on our reputation as a deterrent, on the family being respectful to my position, and it has put us at risk.”

Melania felt his guilt and it added to her own.  She’d been the one to encourage Arcturus to become distant with the rest of the Black family since she didn’t trust them with Sirius or Regulus.

“The question is who is challenging us?” asked Sirius.

“Cygnus is a pain in the arse,” Alphard said immediately.

“And his best friend outside of the family is Malfoy,” Lucretia supplied. “Abraxas is a power-hungry fop who wants our reputation and power.”

“So, we need a plan on how we deal with them,” Sirius said.

Melania sighed and rubbed her head. “Damn it,” she muttered, “we’re never going to get around to planning your presentation!”

“On the contrary, Mother,” Lucretia’s smile did not bode well for any of their enemies, “I think it’s a perfect opportunity to kill many birds with one stone.”

Melania wanted to protest against using Sirius’ presentation to trap their enemies, because that was clearly what her daughter was suggesting, but one look at Arcturus’ fierce expression had her relenting.

“Fine,” she said, “but we’re taking no prisoners.”

“Agreed,” Arcturus smiled coldly, “and I think our first move should be to get our House in order, Guide.”

Melania returned his smile, their fury swirling through their bond.  “Agreed, Sentinel.”

Chapter 8: Family Meetings

“Will you stop pouting?”  Helena poked Regulus with her toes to underline her demand and almost dislodged Barty.

The three of them were sprawled over Regulus’ bed and were supposed to be doing their History of Magic homework.

Regulus really didn’t want to admit to pouting.  “It’s a family meeting, I should be there.”

A family meeting where they intended to trap a traitor to their family while the Aurors arrested the witch who had obliviated Uncle Alphard.

“If you’d gone, I would have had to go and I’m glad we’re not there,” Barty said firmly, nudging Regulus with his elbow. 

“That’s because you’re sensible,” Helena informed Barty briskly.  “Regulus isn’t sensible; he’s a Black.”

“Thank you,” Regulus said dryly.  He pushed his textbook away and sat up, propping himself up with pillows and staring moodily at the far wall.

Helena huffed and exchanged a look with Barty.

Barty gracefully changed position to sit beside Regulus.  He wiggled an arm around Regulus’ and tangled their fingers together.

Helena scrambled to sit cross-legged in front of Regulus.  She rearranged her tartan mini-skirt so her underwear didn’t show.  Her tight pink t-shirt proclaimed her love for something called the BeeGees.  Her blonde hair was down and flowing over her shoulders.  She looked utterly muggle and her outfit had left his Grams speechless when Helena had arrived.

“Alright,” Helena said crisply, “what’s the deal with you and this family meeting?  Why are your knickers in a knot?”

Regulus sighed.  “Would you try to be a little bit more lady-like?”

“You’re deflecting,” Helena informed him.

Barty snorted, but his fingers squeezed Regulus’ reassuringly.

“Sirius is there,” Regulus gave up under Helena’s relentless blue stare.

She frowned.  “And?”

“And Regulus can’t protect him if he’s here,” Barty completed.  “It’s a Sentinel thing.”

“You’re not even online yet,” Helena pointed out with irrefutable logic. 

“We still feel the instincts,” Barty remonstrated her gently.

“It’s also magnified because Sirius is an Alpha,” Regulus said.  He pushed a hand through his messy black locks; his Grams would throw a fit if she saw the state of him.  “I feel like I should protect him.”

Helena snorted.  “Not to rain on your parade, Reggie, but your brother can handle himself.  The papers went on for ages about how he managed to hold off one of the Knights by himself!”  She grimaced.  “You didn’t have to listen to Avery cooing over the Prophet for hours and talking about how yummy he looked and giggling with Trimbley!”

Barty grinned.  “He is yummy.”

Regulus poked him sharply in the stomach with his free hand.

“Oof!” Barty shoved at his shoulder.  “Honestly, Reg, I love you, but I’m not dead.”

“Me either,” Helena said, “and as much as I hate Avery, she is right about how sexy your brother is.”  She smiled slyly.  “I think Saint Potter’s nose was put out of joint at losing his Sexiest Ever title.”

“I did not need to know that,” sighed Regulus.

“Is it true that he’s been offered an apprenticeship with the Aurors?” asked Helena, openly curious.  “My Dad was going on about it last night at dinner that it was all over the Ministry that Moody wants him as his protégé.”

Regulus nodded.  “He asked him when Sirius got interviewed.”

“He’s the kind of Guide I want to be when I grow up,” Barty quipped.

“You don’t want to be an Auror,” pointed out Regulus.

“No, I want to be a Healer and so do you,” Barty agreed. 

“Which is why I don’t get why you’re so gung-ho on trying to protect your brother,” Helena said dryly.

“Look,” Regulus said, “I know that Sirius can protect himself.  He’s an Alpha Guide with a Grim for a protector!  And he saved my life as a baby.  I know that…I just…”

“…can’t shake the instinct,” Helena finished.

“Especially when there is a threat,” Regulus added. 

Helena frowned.  “That sounds like there’s more to this than just the attack by the Knights.”

Regulus grimaced.  He loved Helena and he trusted her with his life, but he figured his Grams would have his guts for garters if he gave up family secrets.

“Oh, come on!” Helena whined.  “You can’t just put that out there and leave me hanging!”

Barty shrugged.  “I don’t even know everything, Helena.”

There were notes of hurt and disgruntlement in his Guide’s voice that had Regulus flinching inwardly.

“It’s family business,” Regulus stated, “and Grams was pretty insistent that it remains in the family.  If it was up to me, I’d tell you both!”

Barty raised their joined hands and dropped a kiss on Regulus’ knuckles.

“Ugh!” Helena complained, rolling her eyes.  “I hate it when you two get all lovey-dovey!”  She avoided Regulus’ attempt to kick out at her.  She settled back into position, smoothing her skirt back down.  “Well, if you can’t tell us everything, tell us something.”  She shrugged.  “Tell us as much as you can.”

Regulus wrestled with the idea for only a second before caving, primarily because he wanted to confide in them.

“The attack was a cover for an attempt to kidnap Sirius,” Regulus said.  “That’s why I’m so concerned about him.”

“How do they know?” asked Barty, bemused.

“You remember Gamps was at the Ministry when we got home?” Regulus checked.

Barty nodded.

“They told him that there that the Knights have been doing these attacks to cover for them attempting a ritual,” Regulus said.

“So, they were going to kidnap your brother to sacrifice him or something?” asked Helena bluntly.

“No, they wanted him because he witnessed the same ritual once,” Regulus pressed his lips together, emotion rolling through him and almost choking him.

Barty squeezed his hand again. “This ritual…it was the one where your mother almost killed you, right?”

Regulus nodded, not sure if he could speak the way his throat had tightened up.

“Merlin,” Helena shook her head, making her blonde tresses fly.  “No wonder you’re a mess about it all!”

The understanding of his closest friend and of his Guide made Regulus sag with relief.

“I just…” Regulus wet his lips and tried to speak again, “I worry about him.  He’s been really quiet about it all.”

“He must be worried about you,” Barty said softly.  “You were the target of the last ritual.”

“But he’s the target now!” Regulus said, his frustration edging his words with a sharpness that he hadn’t intended.  He shot Barty an apologetic look and his Guide simply nudged him back, forgiving him silently.

“But why?” asked Helena.  “I mean, your brother was, what?  Three? How much would he actually remember?”

“All the Heirs do Occlumency training,” Barty informed her.  “I’ll start mine this Summer so I can take up the Crouch Lordship in due time.”

It was Regulus’ turn to softly rub their fingers together and give comfort.  He knew Barty feared reviewing his memories given the emotional abuse he’d suffered under his cold father.

“I’ve heard of Occlumency,” Helena said, “isn’t it a kind of mind magic?”

“A defensive mind magic against intrusion,” Regulus informed her.  “But part of learning it is recovering and reviewing all your memories so you can better protect them.”

Helena grimaced and shifted position to sit with her legs to the side.  She tugged her skirt down again.  “Your brother remembers the ritual then?”

Regulus frowned at the question.  “I don’t know.”  He shook his head.  “Sirius has never actually said what he does remember.”

“But the Knights think he remembers everything or a lot,” Barty commented, “otherwise why target him?”

“What’s so important about this ritual?” asked Helena.

“It’s a power ritual,” Barty replied when Regulus remained silent.  “It takes the power from a latent Sentinel by sacrificing them and gives it to a recipient.  It’s supposed to increase their magic.”

“Gross,” Helena commented.  Her blue piercing eyes caught Regulus’.  “You were going to be sacrificed then?”

Regulus gave a nod.

“And Sirius saved you?”

“Along with our father,” Regulus said sadly.  “He came to defend us and was apparently killed by Walburga’s personal elf.”  He sighed.  “All three witches involved in the ritual died.”

Barty coughed.  “I remember when it was revealed Sirius wouldn’t go to Hogwarts and there was speculation about why, my father told my mother at the breakfast table that Sirius wasn’t a Squib; that he was a killer and your grandparents had covered it up.”

“His Grim killed them, protecting him and me,” Regulus said defensively.

“Can’t blame him,” Helena said sympathetically, “if someone had tried to sacrifice my little brother, I would have killed them too.”

“You don’t have a little brother,” Regulus pointed out.

She lifted an eyebrow.  “I have you two, don’t I?”

Regulus and Barty sighed in unison but they didn’t argue.  They were the two youngest of their year, born at the end of August.  Helena’s birthday was in June and she was technically older than them.  He also wasn’t going to argue with the characterisation of Helena as a sister since Regulus did think about her that way.

“Well, I get why you’re bothered about Sirius being in some family meeting without you,” Helena said. 

“They’re at Grimmauld Place,” Regulus blurted out. 

“Grimmauld?” Barty frowned.  “Isn’t that where…”

“Exactly!” Regulus said.  “Sirius once said he’d never go back there.”

“Why not just have the family meeting here?” asked Helena.

“They’d have to open up the wards to the entire family,” Barty explained.  “Lord Black said they weren’t prepared to open Blackhaven up to that risk…” his eyes widened suddenly.

Regulus could see his clever Guide put everything together.

“They think there’s a threat within the family,” Barty realised out loud.  “Think about it!  Lestrange was one of the Knights!  Someone had to have told him that Sirius was home or that Sirius would know about the ritual!”

“And that’s why you’re so upset,” Helena pointed at him.  “You know someone at that meeting is a direct threat to Sirius!”

“And why your grandparents consider it a family matter,” Barty concluded.  “No wonder you’re so upset, Reg.”

Regulus cuddled into Barty.  He knew he couldn’t tell them about the trap, but at least they had guessed the rest of it.  “I just hate this! I should be there!”

“Well, why don’t you go?” asked Helena bluntly. 

Regulus stared at her.

“You said the wards are open to the family, right?  So, you’d be able to sneak in,” Helena pointed out.

Regulus blinked.  She was right.  The wards at Grimmauld had been opened up for the day to allow the entire family access.  It was unlikely that they’d respond to someone with Black blood or bonded…

“You couldn’t come along,” Regulus said to Helena.

Helena rolled her eyes at him.  “I know that!” She poked his ankle with a finger.  “Someone needs to stay here and run interference with Barty’s Mum and your Uncle Ignatius and those nephews of his!”

Regulus grimaced.  Ignatius had offered to provide additional protection and had turned up with Gideon and Fabian Prewett.  The twins were Aurors and incredibly good duellists.

Barty sighed heavily.  “Are you sure you want to do this, Reg?”

“I’m sure,” Regulus said, but he could see the reluctance written all over Barty’s face.  “You can stay here if…”

“Don’t be daft,” Barty said, “of course, I’m coming with you.”  He held up a hand.  “I just want more of a plan than ‘we’ll sneak in!’”

“That’s fair,” Helena sniffed.  She looked at Regulus.  “First, how will you sneak in?”

“We can’t Floo; it’d be too noticeable,” Regulus said thoughtfully.  “But I think we could get in the front door.”

“We’ll broom-ride to the gates and get the Knight bus then,” Barty suggested.  “They can drop us off close to the house.”

“And once you’re inside?” Helena asked.

“The family meeting is taking place in a reception room at the back of the house overlooking the garden,” Regulus said.  “We could hide on the floor above and maybe listen in with an eavesdropping charm.”  He looked over at the clock.  “If we’re going to go, we should go now.  There’s barely an hour before everyone will be there.”

They all sprang into action.

Barty and Regulus got into their light outdoor robes and retrieved their broomsticks.  Regulus managed to get Mobey to bring snacks and bottles of soda which they secreted into pockets in case they got hungry or thirsty.

Helena opened the bedroom windows to enable them to fly out.  She hugged both of them quickly.  “Stay safe!”

The flight to the road seemed over in a flash.  Regulus caught his breath as they stowed the broomsticks under a hedge.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” asked Barty.

Regulus nodded.  “I just need to be there, Barty.”

Barty sighed but he obligingly stuck his wand out.  Regulus let his Guide take the lead in paying for the bus and giving over their destination.  He sat down on one of the sofas and made he had a good grip.  Barty stumbled and almost fell into his lap as the bus took off.

Regulus dropped a chaste kiss on his Guide’s lips once Barty was situated properly.  “Thank you for doing this.”

“For the record, I think it’s a terrible idea,” Barty quipped.  “But I’m with you.”  He kissed him back.

The bus screeched to a halt in no time at all.  They alighted on the other side of Grimmauld Place and walked through the park in the centre to reach the house.  They scampered across the road and Regulus held his breath as he reached out and grasped the door handle.

The door opened at his touch.  He quickly tugged Barty inside.

The hallway was gloomy.  The only light was the dim sunlight which pooled through the stained window at the top of the door and puddled in a mosaic on the wooden floor.

Regulus looked around, curious.  He didn’t remember living at Grimmauld, not the way Sirius did.  His sensitive ears caught the sound of voices.  He hurried through the hallway and up the stairs.  There was a corridor to their left and one to the right.

The one on the right would lead them to rooms over the dining room; Regulus was sure of it.

Regulus motioned for them to head down it.  The doors were all shut and Regulus bit his lip, hoping they weren’t locked.

They stopped at the room at the end. 

Regulus tried the door handle and the door opened.  The shadowy room made his heart pound. 

“Reg?” asked Barty, hesitantly.

Reg stepped inside. 

It was a large bedroom, he realised. 

There was a sitting area just in front of him; sofas and chairs piled around a fireplace; doors to a balcony just beyond.  The bedroom area was beyond with old large wardrobes that towered from floor to ceiling and a four-poster bed, which was stripped down leaving the mattress bare.

The door to the right would lead to a bath, Regulus surmised, and wondered if it was something he remembered.

“Reg!” Barty called out from the doorway.

Regulus waved him in.

Barty shook his head.  “I can’t!” He tried to put his hand through the doorway and Regulus could see the spark of magic which flared to keep him out.

It was probably a blood-based ward, Regulus realised.  He walked back to the door and used his wand to score a faint line in his palm.  He reached for Barty, smearing the blood on his Guide’s hand, and held onto him as he pulled him through the doorway.

Barty shook himself.  “That was horrible.”  He shivered.  “I think the room knows I’m not supposed to be in here.”

Regulus kissed him.  “I give you permission.”

Barty breathed out in a rush.  “That’s better.”

Regulus turned back to the room.  “It doesn’t look in use.”

“I think this might have been the Lady’s room,” Barty said quietly.  “My father told me that in the old manor, his father and mother had different rooms.  He used to complain of having to share with my mother all the time.”

“Your father is lucky he’s in Azkaban then, he gets a room all to himself,” quipped Regulus.  He looked curiously at the wardrobes.  He went over to the first and opened it, accidentally smearing blood on the door. 

A chest shimmered into view on the bottom of the wardrobe.

“What’s that?” whispered Barty.

“It just appeared,” Regulus said.  He reached down and touched the lid.  It sprang open.  There were scrolls of parchment tucked into the chest, a heavy leather-bound journal, potions…

Regulus picked one of the scrolls up and unrolled it.

“My Dearest,

Today, you will perform the ritual and our years of waiting will be over.

You will have the power to make the House of Black yours, to wipe out the unworthy line. 

Tomorrow I come to you and we can finally be together.

Your Love.”

“Merlin,” Barty whispered, “that looks like…”

“My mother was having an affair!”

“Your grandparents probably need to see this,” Barty said.

Regulus reached for another scroll.  “I just want to…”

“Well, well, well.”

The lilting feminine tone had them both turning swiftly around.

A thin woman with black hair piled high into a bun stood just inside the doorway.  She twirled her wand in her hand almost casually.

“What do we have here then?” She continued and took a step towards them, into the gauzy light which filtered through the heavy nets by the balcony door. 

“Cousin Bellatrix,” Regulus greeted her, his mouth dry. “I didn’t realise people had started arriving.”

Her head tilted sideways, her bun miraculously unmoving as she considered him with a flat silver stare.  “I am certain Lord Black said you were not attending, little Cousin.”  She smiled. “You should be careful wandering around on your own.  These are dangerous times.”

“He’s not on his own.”

Sirius stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the room, his Grim beside him.  Regulus had no idea where he’d come from.  Maybe there was a hidden door?

“But you are right,” Sirius said, glaring at their cousin, “these are dangerous times to wander.”  He smiled sharply.  “Perhaps you should head back down and join the rest of the family.”

Bellatrix smiled.  “I like you.”

“I don’t like you,” Sirius replied.

Her smile widened.  “Which makes me like you even more, Cousin.”  Her eyes glanced off the Grim and back to him. “They say the Grim ripped your mother’s throat out.”

Sirius remained silent.

Bellatrix smiled again, a hint of madness in the glint in her eye.  “Keep your beast close,” she advised in the same lilting tone she’d used when she’d entered the room, “you’re far too interesting for some wizards and witches to ignore, Cousin.”

She turned around and walked back to the door, her body swaying as though she was dancing to a tune only she could hear.  She put a hand on the doorway.

“Only blood of my blood may enter,” she murmured and looked back over her shoulder.  “You should remember that.”

And she was gone.

Regulus breathed out in a rush.  His legs felt weak and shaky.  He slumped to sit on the bed and Barty followed, pushing a hand through his hair.  They ignored Sirius who had crossed the room and shut the door.

“Merlin, I thought we were done for!” Barty croaked.

“What are you both doing here?!”

Sirius’ angry voice had them both jumping. 

“I couldn’t…I had to come!” Regulus insisted.  “And don’t blame Barty!  He didn’t want to come but he came to help me!”

Sirius closed his eyes briefly.  He reopened them to hold Regulus in an unrelenting glare.  “You’re both going home.  I’ll escort you to the Floo.”

“Sirius…”

“I get it, Regulus,” Sirius cut in.  “Your instincts are telling you to be here, but you’re fourteen and you’re barely trained.  If anything happened to you…you need to do your part and stay safe at home.”

Regulus sighed, but he could tell he wasn’t going to be able to cajole Sirius into letting them stay.  “I think we should take the chest with us then.”

“What chest?” asked Sirius.

Regulus showed his find to his brother.  “There’s letters in here from someone our mother was having an affair with, Sirius!”

Sirius read the letter, examined the contents of the chest swiftly and frowned at a potion he’d picked up.

“What is it?” asked Regulus.

“A dormancy potion,” Sirius murmured.  He put it back in the chest.  “Pack it up.  Let’s go.”

Regulus hefted the chest and huffed at the weight.

Sirius leaned over and tapped it with a featherlight spell.  He tapped it again and it disappeared.  “It’ll wear off once you get it to Blackhaven.”  He hustled them out of the bedroom, scowling when Regulus had to drag Barty through the doorway.  They made it to the Floo without being seen and Regulus had Barty go first.

He turned back to Sirius.  “I don’t like you being here alone.”

Sirius patted the head of his Grim and smiled.  “I’m never alone, Reggie.  Now, go!  Before Gamps or worse, Grams, realises you were here.”

Regulus took a moment to hug his brother, the chest uncomfortably squashed between them.  He hurried into the Floo and landed with an oomph back in the Blackhaven reception room.  He dropped the chest to the floor as Barty helped get himself upright.

The chest became visible again.

Regulus picked it back up with a determined grimace.  “Come on,” he said, “we can rope Helena in and read all the letters before my grandparents get back!”

Because he had a feeling the letters and journal were important, and if he couldn’t be with Sirius, he could help his family find out the truth.

Chapter 9: Family Truths

“Did your brother get safely home?”

Arcturus almost smiled at Sirius’ grimace.  Instead he raised a knowing eyebrow at his eldest grandson from within the privacy bubble he’d raised around them.

“It was his instincts…” began Sirius.

“I understand,” Arcturus clasped Sirius’ shoulder, “Sentinel instincts to protect a Guide are deep.”

“He found a chest in Walburga’s room,” Sirius informed him.  “There were letters and a journal.  The letters look like she had an affair.”

“Walburga?” Arcturus was astonished.  In his opinion, Walburga was the absolute definition of a cold fish.  It had been something he’d worried about when she’d married Orion. 

“There were bottles of an illegal dormancy potion,” Sirius continued.  “I’m thinking Father’s dormancy may not have been natural.”

Arcturus grimaced.  It was more proof that the plot to take over the Lordship had been more extensive than they’d known.  He shook his head.  “Where’s the chest now?”

“Regulus took it back to Blackhaven,” Sirius said, “I didn’t think it was a good idea to keep it here with the meeting about to begin.”

“Wise,” Arcturus glanced out of the bubble at the gathered Blacks.  “We should get this meeting started.”  He pinned Sirius with a look.  “I know you can take of yourself, but only fight if you have to defend yourself, understand?”

“Understood, Gamps,” Sirius said.  His silver eyes betrayed a flicker of nerves and Arcturus once again questioned whether Sirius should be there.  But…Sirius was the Heir and he deserved to be present when they took down the traitors.  He waved his wand to dispel the bubble and Sirius stepped back, standing just behind Arcturus to his left. 

The sooner they had their prey cornered, the better.

Melania glided up to stand beside Arcturus in a show of strength. 

They were all three dressed for battle; closed black belted robes with high necks and buttons down the front.  They hid dragonhide tunics and trousers, although glimpses of the latter could be seen through the strategic splits in the robes which allowed them to move.

Alphard, his Guide Logan, and Lucretia were similarly dressed.  They sat at the back near to the door, guarding the exit. 

Arcturus allowed his eyes to travel around the rest of the room, silencing them without speaking a word. 

He’d visited with most of them the day before – those who he knew were innocent of any plotting.  He had warned them and given them the option of staying out of the meeting.  His cousins Hestia Burke, and Pollux’s brother Marius had stayed away; as Squibs they’d be helpless in a duel, but both had offered in their own way to help make the bodies disappear. 

His distant cousins the Hitchens had already declined their invitations to the family meeting; they lived abroad and had instead sent a very lovely Heir gift to Sirius in the form of a full set of duelling robes.    

The Yaxley line were also distant in relation, but both Cedrella and Callidora had determined to attend in a show of support, despite being firmly entrenched in their own families.  Arcturus suspected that it was because both of them had been rather fond of Orion, who had been on friendly terms with both of their sons, despite the political differences.  The twins still looked identical, despite their age; they had petite figures, white hair permed into strict curls and bright brown eyes blinking behind thick glasses.  They had ended up on a table with Andromeda and her husband. 

Andromeda looked every inch the pureblood witch she’d been brought up to become; neatly styled in classic robes with a mask of indifference hiding her true emotions.  Ted sat beside her; a fully qualified Healer, he wore the typical green robes of his profession.  They had left their daughter with her godmother, Amelia Bones, a recent graduate of the Auror Academy and Andi’s best friend. 

Weirdly, Pollux had ended up on a table with his sisters, Cassiopeia and Dorea.  Cassiopeia was without her long-time companion Emilia, and Dorea was without Charlus or their son.  Cassiopeia had been so incandescent with rage over the whole situation, Arcturus figured he was going to have to make sure she didn’t just kill the traitors in their midst with the power of her glare. 

Dorea was there to see justice done for Orion as she’d been Orion’s godmother and her son had been Orion’s best friend.  Unfortunately, Henry had died of dragon pox just before the boys had been due to start at Hogwarts, and Orion had been devastated.  Arcturus had previously suspected that Henry had been Orion’s Guide and without him, Orion’s Sentinel had sunk into dormancy, but Sirius’ revelation of a potion made him rethink his theory.  Dorea’s husband, Charlus, had sent an apology that morning because of a situation with the Potter Heir, the son of Charlus’ cousin, Fleamont. 

The table next to Pollux held their prey: Cygnus and his snooty wife, Druella.  They seemed completely unaware of the danger and kept shooting looks of anger in the direction of Andromeda and her husband.  Their youngest daughter Narcissa sat primly next to her mother, her fiancé Lucius beside her.  Bellatrix sat beside Lucius, although her chair was positioned to be as far from the table as it was possible to get and to still be at the table.  Her husband had not been invited.

Arcturus lifted his wand.  “Secretum Servare!”

A seal of secrecy settled over the gathering.  Some of the attendees sat up a little straighter.

“Thank you all for coming,” Arcturus said.  He kept his wand in his hand, but made himself appear relaxed, leaving it held loosely, his arms by his side.  “I firstly wish to apologise.”

He heard the small intake of breath Cygnus took at the declaration.

“Recent events have shown me that I have allowed my duty to the family to lapse, that I allowed dissent and dishonour to creep into our House,” Arcturus continued.  It helped his delivery that he meant every word.  “I placed the burden of my responsibilities on the shoulders of Orion and lately, Alphard, in order to focus on my Sentinel duties and raising my grandsons.”  He altered his stance a touch, his chin rising.  “I’ve agreed with Alphard that effective immediately I will be resuming the Black seat in the Wizengamot.”

He let his senses take a read of the room; Cygnus and the majority of his table were disgruntled at the news.  It threw a wand in their works.  Lucius fairly vibrated with the need to run and tell his father, but the young Heir couldn’t leave nor could he reveal the secret with the seal Arcturus had placed upon them.  Druella’s lips were pinched unhappily.  Bellatrix appeared bored, leaning back and sipping on her glass of wine.

Pollux was also unhappy, but the way he had glanced back at Alphard suggested he was more concerned about what it meant for his eldest son than their political agenda.

“Alphard will remain as my proxy when I do have to be absent and is named as Regent should anything happen to myself and Melania,” Arcturus continued mildly. 

He wasn’t surprised when Pollux brightened.

“Melania will continue to represent Britain on the Sentinel and Guide Council,” Arcturus said, finishing up their immediate plans.

Melania smiled at the gathering.  “We’ll be moving fully back to Blackhaven with this decision.”

“Any questions so far?” asked Arcturus. 

“Why did you place so much responsibility on Orion?” Dorea threw out the question to him and he was impressed at how spontaneous it appeared.

Arcturus inclined his head.  “Orion was an intelligent and brilliant wizard.  He knew I’d been offered a position on the Council and he offered to take over in the Wizengamot.” He paused.  “I also felt for Orion’s position.  He was young and he wanted a career in politics; he had a knack for it.  I felt allowing my Heir to assume the mantle of Lord Black in practice, if not in name, would allow him to flourish.”

He felt the pulse of love and support from Melania through their bond.

“What’s your excuse for putting Alphard in charge?” Druella asked cuttingly.  “He’s a prankster and a flake!  He’s hardly brilliant in the same way Orion was!”

“Actually, he is,” Arcturus said firmly.  “Alphard was first in his class at Hogwarts; he obtained his Mastery in Law and Political History in record time.  Just because you can’t see past my cousin’s masks, Druella, doesn’t mean that he is them.”

Druella flushed, bright red spots appearing on her pale cheeks.

“Moreover,” Melania picked up, “Alphard’s offer to step in has allowed us to focus on raising our grandsons, Orion’s boys.”

Arcturus smelled the bitter notes of anger rising from Cygnus.

“They were also Walburga’s sons and you’ve kept them from us,” Cygnus pointed out in a smooth silky tone that stank of deception.  “You’ve barely allowed any of us from Walburga’s side of the family to build familial ties with the boys.”  His cold silver eyes looked over Arcturus’ shoulder to Sirius.  “How are we to know if they are suitable to lead the family?”

“Oh, piss and bollocks, Cygnus!” Cassiopeia barked.  “What do you mean by suitable?”

“They shouldn’t be a blood traitor for a start, Aunt!” Cygnus shot back, his eyes darting to Cedrella and Callidora.

“Honestly, nephew,” Dorea cut in smoothly, “I would have thought you would have understood how our inheritance magic worked given your traditional views!  The only suitability test there is Sirius has already passed with flying colours; he wears the Heir ring.”

“And Sirius has worn the Heir ring since he was five years old,” Arcturus informed them with a cold smile.

Shock rippled through those in the gathering who hadn’t known.

“Why did you give him the ring so young?” asked Cedrella loudly.  “He’s a child!  I’ve always thought sixteen was too young as it is!”

“The ring chose him at five,” Melania answered crisply.  “It appeared on his finger and attempts to remove it were unsuccessful.”

“Can the boy not speak for himself?” asked Cygnus with a raised eyebrow.

Arcturus motioned Sirius forward.

“Grandfather is right,” Sirius said politely, “the ring chose me.  On my sixteenth birthday, I made my vows to Lady Magic, and Magic deems me the Heir.”

“Quite right,” Cassiopeia said, “and while I suspect that you may support some of these new-fangled ideas, you’re young yet.” 

She turned back to Arcturus. 

“However, I agree with Cygnus that it is unacceptable that we haven’t been allowed near the boys.  That I agree with as you well know, Arcturus,” she said stridently. And he did because she’d spent a good part of their individual meeting berating him about it.

“All of us got tarred with Walburga’s and Irma’s crime which was deeply unfair!” Pollux blustered.

Melania raised her hand.  “That was mostly my decision, although Arcturus has always supported me in it.”  She looked out at all of them.  “I won’t apologise; I am very protective of both boys and my instincts told me to shield them from the family.”  She breathed in.  “Given what happened with Lestrange, no-one can say my instincts were out of line.”

“You said recent events brought home your lapse in attention,” Andromeda jumped in.  “I assume you mean the recent attack by Lestrange?”

“The attack is part of it,” Arcturus acknowledged, again pleased Andromeda had made the question seem completely natural.  “Lestrange should never have felt he could attack the House of Black.”

“He was nothing but a brash young man cut down before his time!” Cygnus said coldly. 

“Oh, please, Father,” Bellatrix drawled, “let’s not pretend Rasbastan wasn’t an easily led idiot who deserved his end.”  Her silver eyes gleamed.  “It just goes to show how stupid it is for anyone to believe that the House of Black isn’t as dangerous as it has always been.”  She raised what looked like a glass of wine.  “Good for you, Lady Black.”

“Thank you, Bellatrix,” Melania said dryly, “but I hardly think it appropriate to toast a foolish young man’s demise.”

“Would cheering be more appropriate?” asked Bellatrix smartly.

“Bellatrix!” Cygnus barked out.  “I doubt your husband would appreciate your comments about his brother.”

“Well, you do know my husband better than I,” Bellatrix shot back.

Arcturus exchanged a brief look with Melania.  It was a fascinating insight into Bellatrix’s relationship with her family and husband.

“Your attack on Lestrange just goes to show how unsuitable you and Melania are as parents,” Druella said.  She pointed at Sirius.  “You let him fight!”

“My grandparents did not let me defend the home,” Sirius said firmly, “I reacted instinctively, both as Heir and as a Guide.”

“And the rumour that you got offered an Auror apprenticeship with Mad Moody?” Bellatrix grinned at Sirius in a way that had Arcturus wanting to level his wand at her.

“He was very kind,” Sirius deflected.

Bellatrix snorted.

“Regardless of what happened with Lestrange, it doesn’t address that we barely know the boys,” Druella sniffed imperiously.  “I told Cygnus we should have challenged you for custody at the time.”

“Why?” asked Arcturus bitingly.  “Because you were part of Walburga’s coven?”

Druella paled rapidly.

“She was?” Pollux frowned.  “I don’t remember that.” He rubbed his head almost disturbing his impeccably coiffed silver sweep of hair.  “I don’t remember Wally having a coven!”

“That’s because someone went around obliviating people of the knowledge,” Alphard said dryly.  “Isn’t that right, Druella?”

“Are you accusing me of…” she began, her face puffing up with what appeared to be outrage.

“I’m accusing you of knowing who obliviated me and my father,” Alphard said.  “I’ve actually informed the Aurors this morning of exactly who did it since I was able to recover the memory.”  His eyes landed coldly on Malfoy. 

Lucius raised an elegant eyebrow.  “I assure you, Alphard, it was not me.”

“Just your Aunt,” Alphard said.

Lucius almost vibrated in his seat again and Arcturus felt satisfaction ripple through him. 

Narcissa placed a hand on Lucius’ arm.  “That is a large accusation to make of a Noble House, Uncle Alphard.”

“It is,” he agreed, “which is why you should know how seriously we’re taking it.” He looked pointedly at his watch.  “I believe the Aurors should have picked Lavinia up by now.”

Druella’s alarm screamed out to Arcturus’ senses.

“What is more interesting than who obliviated Alphard is why he was obliviated,” Arcturus said, “and for that we return again to the investigation into Orion’s death.”

“Well, that was Irma and Wally, wasn’t it?” Pollux said.  His befuddled face gave away his own confusion.  “It was their foolishness playing around with rituals which…killed them and Orion.”

“Actually, we’ve done some further investigating since the one at the time seems to have been stopped thanks to a bribe,” Arcturus said. “We discovered that Orion died because someone outside the family decided that the only way to gain the power and prestige of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was to steal the Lordship.”

Everyone stilled at that proclamation.

“Someone outside the family?” asked Pollux, his shock written in every line in his body, in his heartbeat and breathing, in his scent pile.

Pollux hadn’t been a part of the plot, just an unknowing patsy. 

Arcturus nodded.  “Someone outside the family.” He waved a hand at them to encompass them.  “Of course, they played on internal resentments.”

He stared pointedly at Cygnus who flushed red, then white.  Reality was beginning to dawn on Cygnus and he was sweating like a pig.

“With Walburga and Irma, they conspired to ensure Orion was trapped in a marriage, and we’ve recently uncovered proof that they likely kept him dormant through potions.”

“Potions!  I always wondered why Orion didn’t come online,” Dorea looked over to Lucretia.  “Why neither of your children didn’t come online.”

Lucretia’s eyes widened. 

None of them had considered that the same had been done to her, Arcturus thought angrily.  He felt his wolf snarl in the back of his head.  He hated the fact that likely Irma and Walburga had kept his children dormant.  The Sentinel in him wanted to rip them apart, but they were already dead.

“Surely, Irma and Walburga’s coven would have known about the potions?” Dorea finished with a hard stare at Druella.

Druella shot to her feet.  “I will not sit here and be insulted!”

“No, but you’ll stay and you’ll answer questions,” Arcturus said harshly.

Druella held her ground.  “I don’t have to answer anything!”

“Druella!” Cygnus got to his feet and stared at his wife.  “You will answer Arcturus!  You will answer the Lord of our House!”

Druella sneered at him.  “Like you respect his position!  You’ve been working with Abraxas for years to undermine Alphard!”  She snapped her hand forward and her wand appeared. “I demand to be let out of this house!”

Arcturus smiled. 

And the wolves sprang into view beside him and Melania; the Grim stepped out of a shadow.

Druella’s fear was stinking up the room; she was barely holding onto her composure and her bowels.  Arcturus dialled his scent down.

“Sit down, Druella,” Arcturus ordered. 

Druella shook her head.  “I won’t tell you anything!”

She snatched at her necklace and threw it at Sirius… 

Arcturus immediately banished it and there was a flash of light as the spell connected and the necklace exploded…

His senses went haywire; bells rang in his ears, his nose was filled with dust, his eyes were blinded…

“Portus!” Druella’s shout had him cringing away from the shrill note in her voice.

Arcturus felt Sirius disappear from his side and tried to grab hold of him anyway.  They’d all voted against Sirius being used as bait – he wasn’t meant to be captured!

Melania was suddenly there; her hand against the back of his neck, and his senses snagged onto her; her scent filled him with the knowledge of her presence, her heartbeat soothed his headache, the sight of her settled his vision…

They rose up from the floor like avenging angels.

Lucretia held a wand on Bellatrix who had her hands raised; one still clutching her wine.  Narcissa was huddled into her fiancé, her face turned away from Alphard, who held his wand steady on the pair.  Behind Alphard, Cedrella and Callidora were poised to provide back-up.

Pollux was vibrating with fury; he had joined his sisters in subduing Cygnus.  His wand was pointed at his own son.  Cygnus was on his knees, head bowed in front of his father. 

Druella was on the floor, one wolf at her throat; the other snarling at her head.  She smiled at them coldly.  “Do with me what you will, but you’ll never see your precious Heir again!”

“You only got one thing right in all the nonsense you spouted today, Druella,” he leaned in and watched in satisfaction as the triumph faded from her eyes and they flickered with fear as they took in his cold surety, “you don’t know Sirius at all!”

Chapter 10: Protective Circles

Truthfully, he hadn’t meant to catch the portkey Druella had thrown.  She’d clearly attempted to throw it at him, but she had been a terrible thrower and it had headed for his Gamps.  Sirius had just reacted, moving to catch it before it hit.

It had been a reflex. 

It had been stupid, Sirius told himself. 

He picked himself up from the floor and quickly looked around, holding tight to his wand.  His heart began to beat rapidly as he took in the dirty basement room; no windows and a single door.  He breathed deeply.

He reached for Padfoot and found his connection to his spirit guide muffled.  He was alone.

“Right,” Sirius muttered, “someone’s bound to come looking so…”  He quickly but carefully drew a series of runes around himself.  He slashed his palm and dripped blood over them, activating the protection he had drawn.

He’d just finished healing his cut when the door burst open.

Sirius raised an eyebrow because all three figures wore black robes and white masks.  He figured that their need to hide their identities behind the persona of the Knights of Walpurgis had given him the time he’d needed to finish his runic protection circle.

He guessed two were male and one female based on their builds.  He caught sight of a wisp of hair floating from behind the female’s mask and frowned at the tell-tale blonde.  Lavinia Malfoy was meant to have been arrested at the same time as the family meeting took place…unless someone had warned her.

Sirius felt his heart sink.  Only two people outside the family had known the identity of the woman who had obliviated Alphard: Chief Inspector Graves and Alastor Moody.  It meant that one of them had betrayed them and Sirius knew which was the more likely…the one who had stopped the investigation in the past.

Graves would get his comeuppance, Sirius thought angrily.  His grandparents would make the same leap of logic as soon as they realised Lavinia had escaped the net.

He turned his attention to the other two men.  One he pinned as Rodolphus immediately; the dirty feel of his magic was too familiar.    

The other wizard was young.  His whole demeanour screamed that he was nervous and uncertain about what he had gotten himself into with the situation. 

Sirius didn’t recognise him at all.  He catalogued the feel of the wizard’s magic; it felt muted but muddy and thin…he almost smiled as he recognised his own hex woven into the magic.  He’d recognise him if he came across him again without the mask.

Assuming that he managed to get himself out of the basement, Sirius thought with his own flash of nerves.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t, he reminded himself.  His grandparents would be coming for him.

All three of the Knights stared at him; their eyes glinting through the mask.

“Well?” demanded Lestrange.

Lavinia lifted her wand and cast a spell.  She nodded.  “The blocking spell is working.  He’s lost his access to the spiritual plane.”

And she would be right, Sirius thought, if he was a normal Guide, even if he was a normal Alpha Guide.  But he was Gaea’s hand on Earth and that gave him access to the spiritual plane that no mortal could ever truly block.  Padfoot would find a way to him.

“I can’t believe she managed to get him here,” Lavinia said.

“Well, it’s good to see the bitch managed something!” Lestrange snarled. 

Sirius wondered if he was referring to his mother-in-law or his wife. 

Lavinia glared at Lestrange.  “You do realise it means she’s probably sacrificed herself and your wife?”

Lestrange shrugged.  “Then I am free of them!  Just like I’m free of my useless brother!”

“Men!” Lavinia snapped.  “How do you suppose I can perform my rituals without a full coven?”

“Perhaps the pair of you can refrain from giving our guest more information than he requires,” the silky-smooth voice heralded the arrival of another wizard.

The others parted for him without question or hesitation.

He also wore black robes and a white mask, but there was a richness to the quality that made him stand out.

Sirius guessed he was the leader of the Knights.  He felt a frisson of alarm ripple through him as the wizard came to stand just in front of the circle. 

The wizard was powerful; his power almost limed his skin.  Yet as a shaman, Sirius could sense his fractured soul; the ugly broken edges of it.  He was of an age with Lavinia, perhaps a contemporary of his father’s? 

Sirius shivered.    

A movement on the ground caught his eyes; there was a monstrous snake slithering into the basement; dark green almost black scales gleamed dully along its massive length.

The wizard stared at him for a long moment and Sirius kept his own eyes focused on just beyond the wizard’s shoulder, not allowing him the eye contact he’d need for Leglimency. 

“You are as intelligent as the reports claim,” the Head Knight declared.  His voice was rich and deep; attractive.

Sirius shivered again, but he kept his stance; his back straight, his legs planted firmly apart, his arms loose and by his sides, his wand grip tight but not too tight.

The wizard hissed and the snake stopped, its head turning to look at him.

Was that Parseltongue?

There wasn’t supposed to be a wizard alive who spoke it.  Something else to help identify the bastard after his captivity was over, Sirius determined, filing the information away.

The snake turned back and slithered through the dirt heading straight for Sirius. 

Sirius held his ground.

The snake hit the runic circle. 

There was a flash of red light; blood magic sparked around the circle and the snake was thrown across the room.

The wizard cast a detection spell in the direction of the fallen reptile almost absently.  The snake was fine; it shook its head and slithered back to its master. 

“Boy,” the wizard almost hissed, “that was a mistake.”  His eyes, a bloodshot blue glowered at Sirius from behind his mask.  He gestured at Lestrange.  “Retrieve him from the circle!”

Lavinia cleared her throat.  “My Lord, seeing Rodolphus get tossed across the room would amuse me, but Black has created a runic circle which would prevent any of us from entering.”

Lestrange hesitated in front of the circle. 

The Head Knight cast towards the circle and his magic rebounded.  He barely got clear of it before it zoomed out of the open door and smashed into the wall behind.

“Find someway to break the circle!” He ordered Lavinia.  “I’ll organise a better incentive for him to behave!”

He whirled around with an impressive display of billowing robes and stormed out.  His snake followed only a hair quicker than the younger Knight who scurried after him.

“You think you’re so clever!” taunted Lestrange.  “All you Blacks do!  You think you’re above us!”

Sirius raised his eyebrow in imitation of his Gamps.  “Grams is going to take your head.” 

Lestrange growled.

“Get out,” Lavinia ordered.  “I need to focus and you’re distracting me!”

Lestrange huffed, turned less impressively than his Master, and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Lavinia walked around the circle twice, muttering to herself.  

Sirius kept quiet.  He could feel Padfoot, their bond strengthening as his Grim found a way through the block.

Lavinia made a gesture with her wand and the dirt swirled away.

It revealed that Sirius hadn’t anchored the runes into the dirt but into the concrete below it. 

Lavinia scowled at him.  “You could make this easy on yourself,” she said bitingly.  “If you tell me the information my Master wants, I’ll let you go.”

“No, you won’t,” Sirius replied.

Lavinia plucked the mask off her face.  Her pale blue eyes glared at Sirius.  “You were such a disappointment to your mother.”

“I’m sure I was,” Sirius noted.  It still hurt to know his mother had hated him, but he’d long ago soothed the hurt with the knowledge that his grandparents cherished him; that his brother loved him.  “I wasn’t the Sentinel she needed for the ritual.”

It was the simple truth at the bottom of everything.

“You should have been!” Lavinia said hotly.  “Walburga gave Orion potions!  They should have worked!  Instead, you come crawling out of her!  Useless!”  She paced around the circle.  “And then, when we finally had the thing we needed, you killed her!”

Sirius stared at her, remembering the letters Regulus had found.  “You were her lover!”

“She was my everything!” shouted Lavinia.  “And you killed her!”

“You were behind the grab for the Lordship,” Sirius continued, his mind piecing together the puzzle of the conspiracy which had led to his father’s death.

“Your grandfather doesn’t deserve the Lordship,” Lavinia sneered.  “He was always too concerned with Sentinel matters!”  She paused in her pacing.  “Sentinels!” She spat out the word.  “They’re ruining the wizarding world!”

“Sentinels and Guides are fundamental to our society,” Sirius pointed out dryly.  “Arthur Pendragon was a Sentinel and Merlin was a Guide.”

“Poppycock!” Lavinia shot back.  “Propaganda by Sentinels to justify encroaching on the power which belongs to us!  We’ll see them all gone!” She smiled. “My Lord won’t rest until you are all dead or dormant!”

The threat to the Tribe.

Sirius felt it in his bones.

He’d found the reason why the wizard needed the ritual…but was it?  The power the wizard wielded wasn’t to be mocked.  But if he had so much power…why did he need the ritual?  Sirius pondered over the question as Lavinia tried to undo his circle.

She gave a shout of frustration.  “What did you DO?!”

“You should know,” Sirius commented dryly, trying to keep his fear from shaking his voice or showing on his face, “or didn’t Walburga share her secrets with you?”

If looks could kill he would definitely be dead, Sirius considered.

“If you remember Walburga’s talent with runes, you must remember the ritual,” Lavinia smiled.  “My Lord will be pleased.  When we tear you from this circle, he’ll tear the memory from your head!”

Sirius shrugged.  He was confident that Lavinia couldn’t get into the circle.  Bellatrix had given him the right clue to his survival; blood of his blood.  The only ones who could were those who shared his Black blood and the Lord who owned dominion over the property.  He wasn’t entirely certain who that was; the basement was nondescript and missing even the etching of a coat of arms.

He was fairly certain that it wasn’t a Lestrange or a Malfoy property though.  He also was almost certain it wasn’t the property of the wizard for all he strode around as though he owned the place.

“Having my memory won’t make a difference,” Sirius informed Lavinia crisply.

Lavinia tilted her head.  “You told Graves that it would reveal information that would threaten the tribe…” she glowered at him as she read the truth in his face, “you lied.”

Sirius shrugged again. He hadn’t, but if she wanted to assume that he had…misinformation was useful. 

Padfoot’s growl echoed in his head.

The Grim was close.

“You already know you got one of the ritual elements wrong,” Sirius pointed out, trying to distract Lavinia.  “I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t know.”

Lavinia’s chin came up.  “Nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Sirius said.  “The ritual called for a witch to sacrifice her own child.  It was why you had to wait until Walburga had Regulus.” 

Lavinia scowled and cast an anxious glance at the closed door behind her.

She clearly hadn’t told the wizard that. 

“Of course, it doesn’t matter,” Sirius lied to her briskly, “the whole ritual doesn’t work, it never did.”

Lavinia glowered at him.  “You will tell him!”

“No,” Sirius said clearly, “I don’t think I will.”  He waited a beat.  “Not unless you tell me exactly what you and Walburga did to my father.”

He figured Regulus would have already worked it out from the letters and journal, but he needed a distraction for just a few more minutes…

Lavinia regarded him with a frown for a long moment.  She sighed heavily.  “It isn’t personal,” she sneered, “your line in the House of Black just simply has to go,” she declared, “it’s too infested with Sentinels.”

“When did you start plotting?” asked Sirius.

“At school, Walburga was brilliant; the brightest witch of her age,” Lavinia’s eyes glittered with emotion.  “We planned it then and her mother was only too willing to help; she’d been humiliated when Arcturus bonded with the MacMillan bitch.  It was surprisingly easy to kill off Orion’s little Potter friend with a curse which looked just like dragon pox.” 

“The dormancy potion?” questioned Sirius.   He could feel Padfoot; the sense of his Grim beside him, pressing up against him.

Lavinia smiled viciously.  “My Lord’s finest invention and he did it as a school-boy!  Walburga’s elf made sure Orion’s food was dosed with it every day.”  She glared at him again.  “How he came online the night of the ritual…it should have been impossible!”

Sirius knew the exact moment his father had come online; the moment he’d realised his children were in danger had been too much of a threat for the Sentinel inside of Orion Black to ignore.  It must have overwhelmed whatever block the dormancy potion created.

“Why did Walburga marry him?” asked Sirius, genuinely curious.  “Why have children with him?  Was it just to do the ritual?”

“It gave her a claim!” Lavinia snarled.  “It was the only reason why she let him put his dirty hands on her!”

Sirius grimaced.  He’d heard enough.

“When she had the power to kill the rest of you, she would have been the oldest female in the line…” Lavinia continued.  She smiled suddenly.  “She was looking forward to killing you; an abomination.  I’m going to look forward to killing you myself!”

Sirius smiled back at her.  “Give Walburga my regards.”

And Padfoot manifested.

Lavinia’s eyes widened with alarm…

The Grim charged and…

She tried to raise her wand…

Padfoot bit off her arm.

Lavinia screamed…

Sirius flinched and turned away as Padfoot tossed her arm away and went for her throat.  He waited until Padfoot returned to him before he moved.

He hugged the Grim.  Padfoot wagged his tail. 

The building shook suddenly.  The wards were under attack.

Sirius dismissed the circle.  “Let’s get out of here.”

He grasped Padfoot and moved back in the shadowy corner of the room…and frowned when he couldn’t step into the Otherworld.  It felt…sticky.

Padfoot whined sympathetically.

His Grim had fought through to reach him, Sirius realised.  And he could fight through in time…but he really needed time…

Sirius hurried to the door and drew the same set of runes he’d used on the floor along the frame.

“Blood of my blood,” Sirius cut his hand and smeared his blood over the runes.

The door banged and Sirius jumped back, his heart pounding.

It banged again.

Sirius hurried back to the corner as Padfoot howled.

The building vibrated again.

Sirius turned away from the door and focused on the shadows.  Padfoot had found a way, Sirius thought determinedly, and so would he. 

Chapter 11: A Rescue Party

Melania ignored her fear, nausea churning in her belly at the thought of Sirius in the hands of their enemy.  She tapped her foot impatiently as Druella, tied-up and bound to a wooden chair, was dosed with veritaserum.  Her eyes flashed angrily at the corner where Cygnus, his daughters and Lucius had been corralled at wand-point.

Pollux hovered awkwardly at the edges of it.  She could sense his bewilderment and horror, but it all seemed emotionally muffled.   

Melania frowned.  She wasn’t an Alpha Guide, but she should sense more than she did. She scanned the room.  Most of the family seemed fine, but there was a flatness in the emotions of those she distrusted mostly, even Lucretia had a touch of it. 

Maybe potions? 

She would have to ask Druella.

“Where did the portkey take Sirius?” asked Arcturus as the veritaserum took effect.

“I don’t know,” Druella answered, her eyes glassy. 

Melania stepped forward.  “Who created the portkey?”

“Lavinia Malfoy,” Druella replied.

Lucius gave an inarticulate noise from his corner. 

Melania ignored him.  “What was Lavinia Malfoy’s role in my son’s death?”

“Lavinia led the coven, she was Walburga’s lover.  She killed Orion’s Guide, Henry Potter, and plotted to kill Orion,” Druella intoned flatly.  “She helped prepare the ritual to kill the baby Sentinel.”

“Dear Merlin!” Dorea sat down abruptly on the other side of the room, her head in her hands.  “My Henry!”

Cassiopeia moved to comfort her.

“Where was Lavinia Malfoy the last time you saw her?” asked Alphard.

It was a good question.  Wherever that was, it was likely Sirius had been taken there.  Potentially, Graves was already on site arresting the witch…

“At Malfoy Manor,” Druella informed them unwillingly.

Lucius cleared his throat.  “If you’re thinking of storming the manor, please do not,” he said frostily.  “My aunt received an Owl before we left for the meeting and departed for the Continent.  She told us she would be abroad for some time.”

“She was warned,” Arcturus breathed out and his eyes sought hers.

Melania pressed her lips together.  Graves.  They had been betrayed! 

Anger rippled through their bond.  They’d suspected ever since Sirius had questioned why the investigation of his father’s death and his mother’s actions hadn’t prompted more questions.  Graves was compromised.

Lucius held up a hand when Arcturus whirled around to question him.  “I don’t know where.  I may agree with my Aunt’s politics, but I had nothing to do with any plot to kidnap your grandson!”  He bristled like an angry ferret. “You can’t hold us like this!  My father will hear of this outrage!”

It wasn’t Arcturus who responded to his absurd proclamation.

Bellatrix snorted.  “You’re under a seal of secrecy,” she pointed out dryly, “but do go ahead and tell your Daddy.  The loss of your magic will be fun to watch.” 

Arcturus turned to Melania.  “Can you use the spirit plane to find him?”

Melania closed her eyes.  She breathed deeply, evenly, ignoring her fear and trying to reach the calm which would take her to the spirit plane.  She reached out with her senses to find her grandson and…

It was like she’d hit a fog.  Sticky and dense, she couldn’t see through it.

“I can’t sense him!” Melania declared, opening her eyes.  “Something is blocking my ability to see him on the spirit plane, but what?”

“A spell,” Druella responded slurring the word.  “There is a spell to block Sentinels and Guides from the spirit plane.”

Melania tensed, thinking about the muted emotions around her.  “Is that the only way you block Sentinels and Guides?”

Druella shook her head.  “Amulets.”

Bellatrix moved; her fingers lifting to touch her necklace.  She raised her eyebrows at Melania and smiled.

Melania frowned as she realised she’d seen the necklace before; Andromeda had once worn one; Druella had one… 

She raised her wand.  “Accio amulets!”

Jewellery tore off the necks and wrists of Druella’s youngest daughters; a medallion tore away from Cygnus.  Pollux gasped as his pocket-watch rose and sailed across the room to Melania.  Lucius’ mouth opened as he watched his bracelet join the pile.  Lucretia gave a sharp cry as a charm detached itself from her bracelet.

Arcturus reached for Melania and she held her hand out to grasp his as they steadied themselves against the full rush of sensing those who had been stripped of their protections against Sentinels and Guides.

Lucretia shone with latent Sentinel power.  Perhaps she had been potioned in the past, but she was free of any toxicity.  Her commitment to the family, her love for her nephews, and for her parents had been so muted with the amulet and the truth of it was so overwhelming Melania staggered under it for a moment.  

Pollux was also not drugged.  He was ambitious and proud of his own position, but he was deeply loyal to the House of Black; hurt by those in his family who had betrayed the House; he worried for Sirius…

Cygnus was even more deceptive and arrogant than they had previously determined.  He’d happily undermined the House for the promise of wealth and power of his own.  He hated his position as a younger son; resented Alphard.  He fervently believed in pureblood superiority and hated Sentinels and Guides…he was only unhappy at being caught, and he was already plotting how to get out of it.

Druella was a cesspit of bigotry but her mind and emotions were still wrapped in the artificiality of the veritaserum even as it slowly faded.

Narcissa wanted nothing more than to be Lady Malfoy; she was completely infatuated with Lucius and her loyalty was to him, not to the House of Black.  Her pureblood superiority and hatred of Sentinels and Guides was as deep-set as her father’s.

Malfoy himself was another pureblood, Sentinel-hating bigot.  He believed in his and his House’s ability to lead the pureblood alliance better than the House of Black.  He liked the power and wealth of the House of Black, liked the prestige his soon-to-be wife would bring him, but he would not bow to the House of Black.

Bellatrix…Bellatrix was a Sentinel, online but shackled and twisted by her mother’s hatred, her father’s indifference.  She was drugged; toxic potions ran through her veins…yet her mind fought them, and the battle between her instincts and the drugs was sending her mad.

Melania moved towards her and cupped Bellatrix’s face in her hands.  “My poor child, you’re an online Sentinel.”

“You can’t save me,” Bellatrix whispered, “and they killed my Guide.”

“No, I can’t help you,” Melania agreed, the damage was too much for her to heal, “but Sirius as an Alpha can help you when we get him back.”

Bellatrix vibrated with emotion; hope flaring to life in her…

“You’re a Sentinel?!” Narcissa stared at horror at her sister.  “Mother, did you know?!”

“I knew but Cygnus wouldn’t let me smother her!” Druella intoned.

Arcturus snapped out a spell and the witch fell silent, slumping in the ropes which held her to the chair.  Melania didn’t bother to check whether the stunning spell was fatal or not.

Andromeda hurried over to her older sister.  “Bella…”

Bellatrix smiled bitterly.  “Andi…”

Andromeda reached out and Bellatrix reached back.  The two sisters clasped hands tightly.

“She’ll need a purging potion,” Melania turned to Ted who’d moved forward and who was already waving his wand in a familiar medical diagnostic. 

“She’ll need several,” Ted said sharply.  “I’m surprised she’s still standing.”

Alphard stood over the pile of amulets.  “These are designed to mask a person from a Sentinel and Guide.  The Council needs to know about them.”

“Yes,” Melania shook her head.  “But we can’t trust them with this!  We can’t trust them with Sirius!”

“I can take you to Sirius,” Bellatrix said.

“You should be in hospital!” Ted protested.

Bellatrix held Melania’s eyes.  “They wanted him alive.  They know from Graves that he remembered the ritual, and the Lord of the Knights finds him fascinating.”

“The Lord of the Knights?  Who is that?” questioned Pollux, bewildered.

“No-one knows,” Bellatrix stated in a sing-song voice.  “He’s an Albanian Baron.  He came to England at the start of the year.  He’s powerful, charismatic.”  She shivered.  “He hates Sentinels and Guides.” 

Melania shook her head, urgency filling her bones.  “It doesn’t matter right now who he is.  We need to go!  We need to find Sirius!”

Arcturus sensed her distress and grasped her hand.  “Agreed.  Bellatrix, take us to Sirius!”

“We’re coming with you!” Alphard stated firmly, Logan stepping up to his elbow with the same fierce determination on his face as his Sentinel’s.

Lucretia cleared her throat.  “Go, Father!”  She glared coldly at those still under wand-point.  “We’ll deal with this lot.”

Bellatrix banished her wine and transfigured the glass into a fishbowl.  She tapped it turning it into a portkey.  “Everyone touch the glass!”

Arcturus could feel her honesty, but he still hesitated.  Melania rolled her eyes and reached forward, her Sentinel followed.  Alphard and Logan touched the glass.

“Black!” Bellatrix shouted.

The portkey took them; hooking into them, sending the world spinning around them.  Melania felt Arcturus ready himself for landing and she did the same.  Her grip tightened on her wand.

They landed on a patch of grass in front of a set of gates.

Arcturus’ fury flared to life along their bond.

The House of Nott.

Not the main house, Melania realised, as she took in the location properly.  They’d landed outside the Summer residence.  Nott had a small country estate just outside Hogsmeade. 

Arcturus raised his wand and cast a spell to examine the defences.  “Basic ward matrix.”

“Brute force then?” asked Melania.

“Brute force,” Arcturus agreed.

They both raised their wands.

Bellatrix cleared her throat.  “I do have access,” she said.  “I could sneak in and get Sirius.”

“He won’t trust you,” Alphard pointed out, his voice heavy with suspicion.

“Alphard is right, he won’t trust you, Bellatrix,” Arcturus stated harshly.

Melania scanned Bellatrix briefly; her sincerity was solid.  She considered how different Bellatrix felt to her magic with the amulet had been removed.

“Let her try,” Melania suggested.  “We can provide a distraction while she tries to get him out.” She turned to Bellatrix who looked a little stunned at the support.  “Tell Sirius I sent you and the codeword is Dogstar.”

Arcturus touched her arm gently.  “Are you sure about this, Guide?”

“I’m certain,” Melania said.

Arcturus sighed and nodded.

Bellatrix looked disconcerted.  “That’s it?  You just believe your wife?  Just like that?”

Arcturus glared at her.  “I trust my Guide.  Now are you going to go rescue Sirius or were you just posturing?”

Bellatrix smiled back at Arcturus, as friendly as a shark.  “Fuck you, Cousin.”  She apparated with a crack.

Alphard coughed.  “Logan and I will take the back.”

“Be careful, Alphard!” Melania instructed crisply.  “Don’t play around.”

“I won’t,” promised Alphard.

“He won’t,” Logan said, “he knows when to be serious, Melania.”

Melania nodded.

They watched for a moment as the two wizards headed off and disappeared around the corner of the wall.

Arcturus motioned at the gate.  “Together?”

“Together,” Melania agreed.

They raised wands, synching up with the ease of their many years together cast the same spell at full force.

The ground beneath them rocked.

Arcturus hummed.  “They must have settled the wards into the foundations.”

It made it more difficult to bring wards down.  Difficult, but not impossible.

“I think we’re to aim towards the ground,” Melania remembered from somewhere.

The ground rocked again.

Arcturus frowned.  “I never realised Alphard had so much power.”

“He hides a lot,” Melania said as they raised their own wands again.  “His mother ignored him and his father is, well…”

“Pollux,” stated Arcturus.

Their second blast had the gate cracking.

Another blast from Alphard on the other side of the building had a fissure opening along the wall. 

“Once more,” Melania said a touch breathless.

They cast together.

The gate fell.

They moved forward as one unit, wands out.

Melania grimaced and stopped suddenly, grateful when Arcturus immediately stopped with her.  She took a giant step back and tugged him to stand alongside her.  She took a breath.

“Mel?” asked Arcturus urgently.

“The blocking spell,” Melania murmured, her wand weaving as she ran an Artithmancy diagnostic on it.  “It’s incredibly disconcerting.  As soon as I hit it, it was like losing my connection to the spirit plane.” 

She shivered and pushed away the worry about how Sirius was coping with it.

Arcturus poked at the numbers as they floated into being.  “This is complex.”

“Complex, but not undoable…” Melania said, reading the numbers.

Arcturus tilted his head.  “We’re about to have company.”  He waved a hand at the floating numbers.  “You deal with taking down that, I’ll deal with these Knights.”

“Moody wanted one left alive,” Melania reminded him.

Arcturus raised an eyebrow and stepped forward as three black robed and white-masked figures spilled out of the front of the building.

Their spirit wolves appeared beside Melania, growling and pacing unhappily.

Melania squared her shoulders, told herself briskly that Arcturus was a fully grown-up Sentinel who could take care of himself and focused on the spell.  Why hadn’t she paid more attention in class to Arithmantic equations?

She bit her lip as she calculated the reverse incantation.  Did she have to carry the three or multiply by seven? 

“Darling,” Arcturus called out, “when you get a moment, I could with a hand!”

Melania glanced over to where Arcturus was battling three wizards alone; he was standing between her and them, keeping her safe.

Her brow creased as she tried to ascertain the right path; she had never been good at math…

“Do I carry the three or multiply it by seven?” she called out.

Arcturus ducked a yellow bludgeoning spell and cast his own; the wizard on the right went down with his wand arm blasted clean off.  “Carry the three and multiply by seven!”

There was a crack as the rest of the wards fell.

Melania finished the calculation and cast her reversal spell.  For a second, she thought it hadn’t worked and she should have just carried the three but then…there was a giant ripple of power that surged through the air.

The wolves charged forward. 

Melania’s wand became a whip within a breath and she cast as one of the wizards attempted to kill her Sentinel while his attention was drawn to the idiot who was charging towards him like a muggle.

She lashed out and the wizard’s head bounced across the ground.  The mask fell off revealing Rodolphus Lestrange.

Good riddance, Melania sniffed.

Arcturus had tied up the idiot in a rope spell that bound a wizard head to foot like a mummy.  There was only a gap for them to breathe shallowly.

He lifted an eyebrow.  “Moody can unwrap him.”

They ran towards the building, following the wolves who’d already entered.

Arcturus paused as they got to the door, reaching out with his senses.  “Three people and some kind of animal on this floor.” He pursed his lips.  “There are two sneaking out of the back…Alphard says he and Logan have them.”

“Sirius?”

“With Bellatrix in the basement,” Arcturus confirmed.  He frowned.  “We should move! One of the wizards is heading down there!”

Melania followed him inside; they darted through one doorway and into an alcove.  He directed her silently to watch a second doorway as he moved to sneak up on the pair who were trying to re-establish the wards.

One of them shrieked and ran for the door at the sight of Arcturus.  The other fumbled his wand and dropped it.  He got to his knees and begged.  “Please don’t tell my father!”

Gilderoy Nott.  He was Nott’s youngest son.

Melania left the moron to Arcturus and headed after the witch who was running as fast her short dumpy legs could carry her.  Melania’s wolf bounded after her while Melania herself kept a sedate pace. 

The witch threw herself through the back door…and running straight into a stunning spell.

She went down like a sack of potatoes.

A blood-splattered Alphard saluted Melania.  She could see Logan in the distance, standing over the prone figures of two robed Knights.

“I’ve called the Aurors!” Alphard shouted.  “They’re on their way!”

Melania huffed and her wolf whined at the loss of their prey.  They turned back to assist Arcturus, although the deep satisfaction that hummed through their bond told her he was fine.

It was shortly followed by a surge of alarm.

She hurried back to him and caught up with him descending the stairs to the basement.

“Sirius?”

“Gone,” Arcturus said shortly, “him and Bellatrix.”  He held up a hand as they reached the bottom; there was a corner which Melania assumed led into the basement properly.  “Wizard and animal in the corridor ahead,” he informed quietly, “I think it’s a snake, there’s a lot of hissing.”

“I’ll take the snake,” Melania said, “you take the wizard.”

Arcturus nodded.  They inched forward and on a silent count of three threw themselves around the corner.

Melania barely had time to note the masked wizard was glaring at an open door, the snake slithering around his feet…

She cast at the same time as Arcturus.

Their spells were immediately batted back, impacting the walls as they ducked.

The wizard snarled.  “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Arcturus yanked them both back around the corner and onto the floor, holding onto Melania and shielding her with his own body.  The Killing curse slapped into the wall and the building shuddered around them.

Breathless, Melania tightened her grip on Arcturus as he went to peer around the corner again. 

“It’s alright,” Arcturus said dryly, “he’s gone; portkeyed out, I think.”

They both got to their feet and cautiously stepped around the corner. 

The corridor was empty.

Arcturus sent a scanning spell down the space anyway but it revealed nothing.  They hurried forward to the door where the wizard had been stood.

The doorway was empty; the door having been banished or removed.  Beyond it, the dirty room held only the body of Lavinia Malfoy, her throat a mess and one arm detached from her body.

Melania examined the door frame.  “Blood of my blood.  Sirius made it so none of them could enter where they kept him, maybe after he dealt with Malfoy.  Bellatrix would have been able to get through.”

Arcturus stepped through with a huff.  He cast a look around the empty room, frustration and worry lining his face.  “Where are they?”

Melania frowned, but the knowledge came to her, Sirius’ voice whispering across the spirit plane to her mind.  “Where they need to be.” She held out her hand.  “Where we need to be.”

Chapter 12: A Traitor’s End

Regulus stared at the dining room table.  There was a creeping sense of something being horribly wrong, but he couldn’t tell if it was the family meeting which was happening back at Grimmauld or the evidence laid out in front of him.

On his left, a series of potion bottles were lined up.  Small blue bottles of dormancy potion were the most prevalent, followed by fertility potions in pink bottles which his Uncle Ignatius had identified, and finally, a set of green bottles which were filled with an unknown potion.

On his right, there was a stack of parchment; all letters from his mother’s lover who her journal had revealed as Lavinia Malfoy.  They spoke of years of planning to kill the House of Black’s patriarchal line and institute his mother fully as Lady Black.

Next to the journal was a number of necklaces which Barty had immediately coined as icky. 

His Uncle Ignatius picked one up and examined it.  “It has some kind of masking spell attached to it.” He set it down.  “We should call Moody and turn this over to the Aurors,” he said.  “It will help their case against Malfoy.”  He checked the clock.  “The twins should be back from their patrol of the grounds.  I’ll wait until they return and I’ll Floo the Ministry.”

Mobey popped in.  “Sir, there’s being a visitor.  He is waiting in the drawing room with Missus Crouch-y.”

“Don’t touch anything,” Ignatius warned them. 

Regulus waited until his uncle had left before huffing out an exasperated breath.  He slumped back into his chair and folded his arms over his chest.  “I can’t believe he caught us coming out of the Floo room!”

“I can’t believe you came back through the Floo!” Helena pointed out.

“It wasn’t like Sirius gave us much of a choice!” Regulus countered.  He waved a hand at the dining table.  “I just wanted to find out what was in the chest without an adult standing over us!”

Helena sent him a sympathetic look. 

“Well, your uncle’s right,” Barty said, “this really should be turned over to the Aurors.”  He grimaced and sat back well away from the necklaces.  “I can’t believe your Mum was with Malfoy!”

Regulus pushed a hand threw his hair.  “It’s not like I thought she was in love with my Dad, but…I can’t believe she had an affair!”

“I can’t believe she plotted to kill your entire family,” Helena said. 

Regulus couldn’t help the wince that pulled his face into another tired grimace.

“Sorry, Reg,” Helena said contritely.

“Well, at least now I know her killing me wasn’t personal,” Regulus mumbled. 

Barty reached over and they tangled their hands together.

A noise by the door had them all looking over.

Chief Inspector Graves stood in the doorway.  He frowned at the table before he shook his head slightly and nodded towards Regulus. 

“Your grandparents sent me; I’ve come to take you to the Ministry,” Graves said.  “Ignatius went on ahead.”

Regulus frowned.  That didn’t sound right.   “The family meeting is over?” 

Graves nodded again.  “We’re taking statements.  Your grandfather requested I escort you to join them.”

Regulus sighed because that sounded exactly like his grandfather.  He snagged his outdoor robe from the back of the chair and put it on.

Barty caught hold of his arm, worry painted all over his face.  He leaned in urgently.  “This doesn’t feel right, Reg.”

Regulus inched back and looked at Barty who gave a small nod; something was wrong. 

“I was so hoping we could do this the easy way,” Graves said.

Regulus turned, his wand flying into his hand, but…

Graves snapped out a spell…

Regulus tried to shield them…

The spell crashed through the flimsy barrier he’d managed to erect and washed over him.

Blackness spilled over him; he was out like a light…

He was yanked back into consciousness with a magical prod, waking with a groan. 

His eyes landed on Barty out cold in front of him.  He felt the ropes around his wrists which were bound in front of him and he tried to wriggle his hands free. 

“You’ll just make your hands bleed if you continue,” Graves yanked him to his feet.

Regulus struggled.  His Sentinel was close to the surface; a half breath away from coming online.  “Barty…”

“Your friends will be fine,” Graves said shortly, “it was a wide stunning spell.  They’ll wake up in about an hour.”

“What did you do to my uncle?” asked Regulus, still trying to drag his feet as Graves pulled him toward the door.  “Where’s Mobey?”

“Your uncle and the house-elf are tied up in the drawing room along with Mrs Crouch,” Graves stated.  “No-one has been seriously harmed.”

Yet.

The threat loomed over Regulus.  He wondered what had happened to the Prewett twins and thought he’d better not ask in case Graves hadn’t realised they were on the grounds.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Regulus frantically, trying to stall by refusing to move.  Maybe if he stalled long enough, Graves would be caught by them.

Graves ignored him and poked him with his wand.  “Walk or I’ll knock you out again and carry you!”

Regulus moved reluctantly.  “Where are you taking me?” He demanded as Graves tugged him towards the Floo room.

“I’m taking you to your brother,” Graves said tersely.  “He needs some encouragement to give up the memory of the ritual.”

Sirius?

Sirius was in trouble.

His Sentinel growled in the back of his head…so close…

“You were the one who stopped the investigation the last time,” Regulus realised out loud.  “Lavinia Malfoy bribed you!”

“Lavinia only wanted to ensure the coven wasn’t implicated!” snarled Graves, reached for the Floo powder. 

“She was having an affair with my mother!”  Regulus shouted, suddenly angry at the Chief Inspector.  “All she wanted was to cover up her crimes and you let her!  You were supposed to bring her to justice!”

“You’re lying!” Graves said, pausing in his movement.

“I’m not!” Regulus jerked his head back toward the dining room.  “She left my mother letters!  They’re all in the dining room!”

Graves looked back and Regulus barrelled into him, sending Graves to the ground. 

He ran.

He had to get away from Graves, get to his grandparents!  He had to find Sirius! 

Regulus ducked a spell as Graves chased after him.  Regulus took one turning then another, he hurried down the back passageway…

Another spell impacted the wall next to him and he flinched away as the plaster flew out and nicked his cheek.

He burst through the door to the conservatory and skidded over the tiles…

Graves slammed the door open…

Regulus ducked as another spell impacted the wall above him…

He shouldered open the conservatory door and…

Graves’ spell hit the step he was on and it crumbled beneath him…

Regulus fell.

He landed on the next step on his hip, before tumbling down and landing with his left foot crumpled beneath him.  He tried to get to his feet as he saw Graves walking down the steps…his wand aimed at Regulus…

Regulus panted for breath as he shuffled back across the patio, towards the hedges that separated it from the grass…

“If you’re trying to find the twins, you should know I sent them back to the Ministry already,” Graves called out, twirling his wand.  “Just…stop!  You have nowhere to go!  There’s nobody here to help you!”

Regulus swallowed hard and stopped crawling…

And suddenly Sirius stepped out of the shadow of the hedge beside him.

Regulus stared as Bellatrix took up a position on the other side of Sirius. 

Bellatrix.

He stared at her, bewildered.

Padfoot growled as he moved to stand over Regulus.

“Graves,” Sirius stated coldly.

Graves took a step back.  He glanced fearfully at Padfoot before his gaze settled on Bellatrix and hardened with fury.  “You’ve betrayed your Priestess, Bellatrix!”

“I’m not part of her coven, Graves; you’re confusing me with my mother,” Bellatrix responded, tapping her wand against her leg.  She tilted her head sideways.  “Accio amulet!”

Regulus watched as Graves’ pocket watch ripped away from his robes and floated to land beside Bellatrix.

Sirius staggered back a step.  His lips pursed unhappily.  “You’re a cesspool of deceit, Graves.”

“And you’re too powerful to let live!” Graves declared.

Regulus shivered at the hatred he heard in the wizard’s voice.

“Our Lord will see all Sentinels and Guides die, but you!” Graves glowered at him angrily.  “You deserve to die after what you did!”

“What he did?” Regulus repeated thinly.  Sirius had never done anything!

“I was the original investigator! I know exactly what he did!”  Graves stated.  His eyes glittered almost feverishly as he stared down Sirius.

“He killed three witches,” Bellatrix sounded bored, “that’s hardly news.”

“The athame was bloody,” Graves shouted, “it was bloody with his blood!”

And Graves pointed at Regulus.

“That’s what you’ve never told anyone!” Graves said triumphantly.  “That’s what you don’t want anyone to know!”  He gestured at Padfoot.  “You brought your brother back from the dead!”

Regulus felt goose-bumps break out all over his body. 

Somehow it wasn’t a surprise to him.  It felt right.  Like a half-remembered dream of a river and almost drowning and Sirius pulling him to shore…the Grim helping him…

“Lavinia knows you can’t be allowed to live!  Either of you!” Graves said furiously.  “You should help me, Bellatrix!  You know the truth!  Sentinels are tainted!  They have too much power!”

Bellatrix stared at him pityingly.  “I am a Sentinel, you idiot.”

Graves’ eyes widened.

“You know Lavinia must have been an awesome fuck…” Bellatrix continued.

“Cousin!” Sirius reprimanded her sharply.

“You gave up your whole world view to comply with her nonsense!” She completed.

“He’s drugged,” Sirius said, “something is clouding his mind.”

The third potion, Regulus surmised.

“Well, that explains why he fucked her…”

“Bellatrix!” Sirius turned to her exasperated.  “Regulus is fourteen!”

“Well, he’s old enough to know about the Wands and the Cauldrons,” Bellatrix shot back.

“ENOUGH!” Graves said.  “And what do you mean was?  What happened to Lavinia?”

“She took on a Grim,” Bellatrix taunted him, “what do you think happened?”

Graves screamed…

…and he fired a blood red spell.

Sirius leaped in front of Regulus. 

Graves’ spell splashed harmlessly over Sirius’ magical shield.

“I’ll deal with this, Cousins!” Bellatrix ordered. 

“Still don’t like you!” Sirius snapped, but he had taken up a full guard position in front of his brother, allowing Bellatrix to engage Graves.

Bellatrix grinned and she cast a spell back at Graves; one after another, after another.

“We need to get out of the way,” Sirius declared, his head tilting to the side as though he was listening to something.

Regulus clutched onto Sirius as his brother helped him to his feet.  “She’s on our side?”

“She is,” Sirius agreed.  He hooked one of Regulus’ arms over his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist.  “Can you walk?”

“Maybe,” Regulus tried to put his weight down on his foot and yelped.

“That would be a no,” Sirius said.  He grimaced as Regulus hopped alongside him as they made their way back towards the side of the house.

There was a loud crack.

Their grandparents apparated in, wands raised.

“We’re fine!” Sirius said.  “Help Bellatrix!”

Gamps nodded, turning to where Bellatrix and Graves were exchanging spell-fire on the other side of the lawn.

Grams breathed in sharply.  Regulus could see her worry for them written all over her face.  But she followed after Gamps…

Bellatrix went down to a purple spell that threw her halfway across the grass. 

In a heartbeat, Gamps and Grams were duelling with Graves.

Regulus’ heart pounded in fear as Sirius helped set him down. 

“Is she…”

“Alive,” Sirius confirmed.  He motioned and a thin wolf appeared beside her, guarding her.

“They’ll be fine, Reggie,” Sirius said almost absently, fingering his wand.  “They’ve been fighting together for years.”

Regulus nodded, trying to convey his own confidence in their grandparents.  But he bit his lip as Graves almost took out his Grams with a bright orange spell which he sure liquefied organs.  Gamps retaliated with a flash of fire which Graves side-stepped.

“They’re losing!” Regulus blurted out.

Sirius shook his head.  “Graves just has more battle experience.  They’re fine…” he sighed as Grams ducked another lethal spell and knocked another out of the way with her whip.  “Pads…”      

Padfoot barked and started to make his way to the fight.

Sirius held his wand out firmly, alert for any other threats that might emerge.

“He was right, wasn’t he?” Regulus asked softly.

“Reggie…”

“I kind of remember a river?” Regulus said.  “I just…you came for me.”

“I’ll always come for you,” Sirius said, “you’re my brother.”

Regulus held his eyes.  “What bargain did you make with Death for my life, Sirius?”

Sirius sighed.  “You would have done the same.”

It wasn’t an answer.

Regulus reached out, unable to go a moment longer without touching Sirius.  “Yes,” he said, “I would.”

On the lawn, two wolves fell into step beside Padfoot and started to stalk Graves from the other side while Gamps and Grams worked to keep his attention on them.

Spell after spell was fired…

And the wolves sprang…

Sirius moved in front of Regulus suddenly, blocking his view.  “Close your eyes, Reggie.”  His silver eyes met Regulus’.  They were solemn and sober.

Regulus nodded his assent, swallowing hard.

“BOYS!” Grams’ shout had Sirius casting a look over his shoulder, back towards the lawn. He shifted out of the way.

Regulus immediately looked towards where Graves had been standing.  He blanched a little as he realised Graves had been torn in pieces. 

Gamps was heading over to where Bellatrix still lay prone on the ground, but his Grams was hurrying over to himself and Sirius.

“Are you alright?” Grams asked urgently.  She was already casting diagnostic spells.  “Are you both alright?”

“I think Regulus has a broken ankle,” Sirius said, “he’s got bumps and bruises and…umph!”

Regulus smirked as Sirius was wrapped up in one of Gram’s hugs.  He snickered lightly, but stopped when she set Sirius aside and hugged him.  Emotion swamped him; love and relief that left him shaky and trembling.  He winced as the fall down the stairs began to tell in every ache.

Grams disentangled herself from him and nodded sharply.  She raised her wand and tapped the emergency charm that formed in the air.  “We should have healers and Moody arriving shortly.”  She sniffed.  “He at least is trustworthy.”  She motioned at Sirius.  “Can you go and help your grandfather with Bellatrix, please, Sirius?”

Sirius glanced at Regulus.

Regulus nodded; he was fine.

Sirius set off. 

“When did Bellatrix end up on our side?” asked Regulus as his Grams started fussing over a bruise on his cheek.

“At the family meeting,” Grams stated, “it was very revealing.”

“My mother was having an affair with Lavinia Malfoy,” Regulus’ eyes flickered back to the dismembered body on the lawn, “and I think Malfoy seduced Graves into ignoring her involvement with the ritual and the plan to kill Father back when I was a baby.”  He shivered, suddenly feeling very tired.  “He said all Sentinels and Guides should die.”

“That seems to be their plan,” Grams said.  She crouched down and held his gaze.  “But our family put a very large dent in that plan today.”  She smiled.  “Malfoy is dead; Graves is dead.  Druella is going to wish she was, and Cygnus and Narcissa are going to find themselves without the Black wealth or power to support their bigoted views any longer.”

Regulus felt the relief flood through him.  He flinched at the sound of running footsteps as the healers and Aurors began to arrive. 

His Grams kissed his cheek briefly and walked away to greet them. 

Regulus breathed out.  His gaze sought out his brother again.  Sirius looked up from his position by Bellatrix, Gamps’ hand on his shoulder, and held his eyes. 

They were alive.  They had survived the latest threat to tear apart their family, just as they had survived all those years before when Walburga had attempted her coup.

It wasn’t over, Regulus knew that.  They had dented the plan, but it was out there.  The threat to the Tribe, to his family was still out there.  Regulus pressed his lips together in a thin determined line.  He’d be ready for it when it came for them again, he swore; he’d be ready.

Suddenly, his hearing exploded into a cacophony of sound, his skin prickled and he could feel every thread rubbing against it, his vision blurred then sharpened, the smell of spell-fire and blood was heaving in the air, he could taste the bitter iron of blood in his mouth from biting his lip…

He could hear Barty awakening in the house, the steady heartbeat grounding him; his onlining bringing his Guide back to consciousness, Barty’s empathic gift blooming into life…

Sirius was already running back towards him, leaving a worried Gamps with Bellatrix; his Grams was hurrying back with a healer…

And a young wolf pup appeared in Regulus’ lap, a ball of grey and white fluff.  It yipped and licked Regulus’ finger.

Regulus stared at his spirit guide and laughed.

Chapter 13: A House in Order

“Hmmm…”

Arcturus smiled as Melania stretched her body, rubbing in all the right places along his.  She kissed him softly.  “Good morning, Sentinel.”

“Morning, my Guide,” Arcturus kissed her until they were both breathless.

They shifted, bodies aligning with the familiarity of years, their knowledge of each other.  Their lovemaking was everything he needed it to be: an affirmation of their living, of their love, of their bond. 

Arcturus kissed his wife, breathless in pleasure and with the satisfaction of knowing he’d taken her with him.

Melania hummed as he gently moved to her side, cuddling into him.  “I don’t think I’ve ever said, but I’m really, really grateful for privacy spells.”

Arcturus chuckled.  The past two weeks had proven that having a new Sentinel in the house was challenging; Regulus heard everything.  Still, not as challenging as a baby Alpha Guide.  They’d had to invent spells to block Sirius from sensing them.

“Long day,” Melania murmured, reaching over and brushing hair out of his eyes.  “We should make a start.”

He groaned, but he kissed her in agreement and rolled out of the bed.  They had too full a day to spend it cuddled into each other.

“When the kids are back in school,” Melania said, as she clambered out and elegantly put on a silk robe, “we’re going to lock ourselves in the Paris apartment for a week.”

Arcturus followed her into the shower. 

They were both almost ready when there was a knock on the door leading into their bedroom suite. 

Arcturus checked with Melania first and called out for whoever it was to enter. 

Lucretia popped her head round the door cautiously.  “May I speak with you both privately for a moment?”

Arcturus waved her in, concern rising at her tired face as she closed the door behind her.  His daughter had been a frequent visitor to Blackhaven, but never quite so early.  “Is everything alright?”

Lucretia sighed and nodded, taking a seat on the wide stool at the end of the bed.  Arcturus sat down next to her as Melania shifted position from her place at her dressing table, abandoning donning her make-up.

“I wanted to tell you first,” Lucretia said, her fingers tangling into the fabric of her long grey work-skirt.  She took a deep breath.  “Ignatius and I have decided to divorce.”

“Oh, darling!” Melania got up and moved to sit beside their daughter, pulling her into a hug.

Lucretia sagged against her mother and accepted her comfort for a long moment.  Arcturus felt completely helpless.

After a few moments, Lucretia gently disentangled herself from her mother.  She accepted the handkerchief Arcturus handed her and patted his knee.  “I’m alright, Daddy.”

“Do I need to kill him?” asked Arcturus bluntly.

“No,” Lucretia shook her head, “it’s all very civilised.”  She sighed and rolled her expressive silver eyes.  “Actually, that’s been the problem; it’s all very civilised.”

Arcturus tried not to flush red as he recalled how very non-civilised his time in the shower had been. 

“We were best friends when we married, and we’re best friends now,” Lucretia said firmly, “but we both agree it’s not enough, especially…” she bit her lip.

“Especially when you know for certain you’re latent, not dormant,” Melania stated. 

Walburga’s journal had been a confession of crime after crime.  She had potioned Lucretia, enough that no-one had thought Lucretia was latent.  The amulet hiding as a charm Irma had provided for the bracelet Lucretia’s grandmother had organised for Lucretia’s sixteenth birthday, had kept anyone from knowing the truth, including Lucretia herself.  But compounded with that crime had been the news that Irma had cursed Ignatius infertile on his wedding day.

“Ignatius has also always felt guilty about being unable to give me children,” Lucretia said sadly.  “He’s happy being uncle to his brother’s brood, but he knows I’d like to have my own children.  I’m not too old to hope for a late baby.”

“Well, we obviously support you both in your decision,” Melania said, hugging Lucretia again before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Arcturus did the same.  “Whatever you need, Lucky.”

Lucretia smiled at them.  “Thank you,” she got up and smoothed down her skirt and the high-necked ruffled blouse she wore.  “I think August will be soon enough for the announcements.  I don’t want to take anything away from Sirius’ presentation.”

“I rather think he’d thank you if you did,” Arcturus commented dryly.  He was satisfied when it brought a smile to his daughter’s face which stayed as she left them alone again, closing the bedroom door behind her once more.     

“Fuck,” Arcturus said inarticulately. 

Melania nodded sharply.  “Well, all we can do is be there for her.”

They headed down to breakfast.

Sirius was already there, midway through a bowl of porridge. 

“Regulus and Barty not up yet?” asked Melania.

Sirius shook his head.

Arcturus grimaced.  He didn’t particularly like the fact that Regulus and Barty were sleeping in the same room, although Regulus had blushing confirmed that they would wait for a full physical bonding until they came of age.

“What’s your plan for the day?” Arcturus asked Sirius.

“I have a fitting this morning for my presentation robes,” Sirius scowled into his porridge.

“And then?” prompted Melania.

“I promised I’d visit with Bella,” Sirius said.  “We’re going to do another healing meditation and play some board games.”

Arcturus just prevented his eyebrows from shooting up his forehead.  Bellatrix was recuperating in their guest wing.  She’d spent two nights in Saint Mungo’s after her fight with Graves; one for the fight, and one to purge all the potions in her system.  She’d greeted the news of Rodolphus’ death with the words ‘good riddance.’ Sirius and Bellatrix had formed a weird relationship which consisted of bitchy one-liners and a protectiveness for each other that bemused Arcturus. 

“More wizard chess?” asked Melania. 

Sirius shook his head.  “I’m introducing her to Monopoly.”

“Is that wise?” Arcturus frowned.  “You almost come to blows when you and Regulus play it.”

“Ted said she needed a distraction from the withdrawal symptoms,” Sirius shrugged.  “I figure anger is a good distraction.” 

Arcturus sighed.  He figured Sirius also needed the distraction from knowing his younger brother was bonding.  He was just thankful that Barty had been part of their family for years; it made the transition easier.

Sirius finished his porridge.  “May I be excused?”

Arcturus gestured at Melania who nodded.

“We’ll see you this evening,” Melania confirmed.  “Try not to wind your cousin up too much.”

Sirius saluted her and left the breakfast room.  Arcturus and Melania finished their breakfasts and Melania instructed Mobey to take some to Regulus and Barty.

“You’re spoiling them,” Arcturus said.

“They’re bonding,” Melania replied primly. 

He hummed.  He also figured Melania’s head was still filled with the image of a battered and limping Regulus.

They flooed to the Ministry. 

Arcturus headed straight to the House of Black office situated near to the Wizengamot chamber.  The Ancient and Noble Houses all had prime offices just a few corridors away from the Minister and the Heads of Department.

The outer office had been renovated in the past week to accommodate Alphard and his Guide.  Arcturus had protested Alphard giving up the main office, but Alphard had grinned and claimed he’d prefer the other office.

Logan greeted them with mugs of coffee and the four settled in to over the day’s agenda and their plan for the presentation.

“Firstly, have we decided what we’re doing about announcing Druella’s death?” asked Alphard.

Druella had apparently died from a heart attack on her way to the Ministry cells.  Nobody mourned her, not even Cygnus. 

Cygnus himself had been firmly put in his place.  He’d lost his Black allowance and presented with a choice between disownment or exile, had chosen to go abroad.  He’d left the previous weekend after Druella’s funeral.

“I’m not giving her the status of a formal announcement, not when Sirius is being presented,” Arcturus determined.  “The notice in the paper was sufficient.” 

“What about Narcissa’s wedding in August?” asked Alphard asked. 

“We will not announce that either.  I have decided we will not attend given the Malfoy’s crimes against our family,” Arcturus said firmly, lamenting again that the Lords had lost the power to determine marriages for their Houses.  “I leave it to each family member to determine their own decision in the matter.”

“You know that means most of us will not go,” Alphard commented cheerfully.

“Narcissa only has herself to blame,” Melania sniffed.  “She wants to be a Malfoy so badly, let her be one.”  She lifted a piece of parchment.  “May I suggest we move onto the matter of Sirius’ presentation Ball dinner?  We’ve yet to determine who is sitting next to Dumbledore.”

“Not even my father is stupid enough to want to sit next to Dumbledore,” Alphard said.

“Pollux it is then,” Melania made a note.

They continued planning until they had to break for the first meeting of the day; a small group of Alliance members who had come to plead their case.

Arcturus settled the five wizards in the comfortable seating arrangement by the fireplace in his office.  He stayed on his feet, leaning against the mantelpiece.  Alphard and Logan leaned on his desk behind them.  Melania sat in a chair to his left. 

Beside her, Zebadiah Fawley sat with his robes tucked around his portly figure, his mouth an unhappy downturn under his bushy moustache.  His neighbour, Francis Yaxley was older than any of them; he was completely bald, and his blue eyes shone out from behind thick glasses.  Arcturus believed he was the grandfather of Lysandra Yaxley who had married his Uncle and namesake. 

Next to him were younger men; school friends of Orion’s.  The first was Hamish Selwyn, a dark-haired, bearded Scotsman who enjoyed hunting and fishing more than politics.  The final two were the most problematic since their sons were under arrest as Knights of Walpurgis.  Bartholomew Nott’s son had been the coward who’d begged Arcturus not to tell his father, and Maurice Gibbon’s son had been the one Arturus had wrapped up like a mummy.  Nott’s handsome face was a picture of polite consternation, whereas Gibbon was red in the face and sweating.

All of the men were Lords of Ancient and Noble Houses.

“Gentlemen,” Arcturus said, careful to keep any hint of irony out of his voice, “you called for a meeting.”

“Of course, we called for a meeting.  We’ve all received your parchment declaring your intent to withdraw the House of Black from our alliance, Arcturus,” Fawley got straight to the point.  “We want the chance to change your mind.”

Arcturus raised an eyebrow.  “I see.”

“We’ve been led around by Malfoy,” Selwyn declared brusquely.  “None of us can deny it.  We’ve let Abraxas manipulate us and we owe Alphard an apology for that.” He squirmed uncomfortably.  “But if you’re leaving because you think we believed this nonsense of Sentinels and Guides that these Knights believed in?”  He snorted.  “We’re Ancient and Noble! All of us originated with a Sentinel and Guide pair!”

“It was one of the reasons why we’ve believed keeping the bloodlines pure was paramount,” Yaxley added in a thin weedy voice.

“Clearly some of our young need to be educated more in their own family history and tradition!” Fawley glared at Nott and Gibbon.

Nott raised his hand and inclined his head.  “My son admitted that he joined in because of his own weakness in being able to say no to Marcella Parkinson.” He sighed.  “Thankfully his older brother is Heir and has a much better head on his shoulders.”

Gibbon coughed.  “My son lost his Heir ring because of his actions.  The damn thing won’t go near him now.  He’ll end up a Squib.” He grunted.  “It’s a fair punishment, even if I’ll have to make his cousin Heir now.”

Arcturus made a sympathetic noise.  “I appreciate that the actions of foolish young men are not reason to dissolve the alliance; that is not why I made my decision.” He paused.  “I also did not make my decision because you allowed Malfoy to undermine the House of Black within the alliance nor for the insults to our House you’ve personally made during the past few years.”

“Arcturus…” Fawley attempted to interrupt but Arcturus stopped him with a glare.

“The truth is that the alliance has offered up no more than two substantive Bills in the last thirteen years, four in the last fifteen,” Arcturus said crisply.  “The one Bill sponsored by the House of Black which required Hogwarts to teach a traditional etiquette class to the muggleborn barely passed, and that it did so was because Alphard managed to convince the House of Greengrass and his so-called ‘neutral’ alliance to back it.”

His gaze swept over the five Lords who looked chagrined.

“Five Bills were put forward which were drafted without even an input from my House, and none of you have regularly followed our voting pattern in the past few years,” Arcturus continued.  “With such an obvious lack of respect for our leadership, why would I retain such an alliance?”

“You wouldn’t,” Fawley admitted bluntly, “and if I were you, I’d do exactly the same and get shot of the lot of us.”

“To be fair,” Nott interjected, “your voting pattern and policies have taken a turn away from the truly traditional path, Arcturus.” His eyes flickered to Alphard. 

Alphard snorted.  “The policies we voted against included the right to kill house-elves for potion ingredients which would have led the species to extinction and leaving us without their domestic help; additional restrictions on the goblins which banned them from offering key services we access regularly…”

Fawley and Yaxley nodded along to that – both had voted against the Bills in question.

“Then,” Alphard continued, “there was the Bill which restricted students schooling only to Hogwarts and from carrying wands outside of Hogwarts – and don’t tell me it was originally just the muggleborn, Dumbledore argued for it to be amended to all and it was…”

Nott and Gibbon flushed.  In the end they had voted against the Bills, but only because both of them had children of school age.

“…and finally, let’s not forget the piece de resistance, the Goyle Bill to eliminate the right of the muggleborn to request a divorce which was so poorly drafted it eliminated anyone’s ability to request a divorce!”

Selwyn gave a hard laugh; he’d voted against that Bill and promptly divorced his wife in the following session.

Nott coughed.  “In hindsight, I can see Malfoy’s hand in shading events much worse than they were with each instance, but our fears about your House’s political allegiance are not without foundation.”

“After all, Arcturus,” Fawley asserted, “you still have not disinherited that witch who married a mudblood.”

“The House of Black has never mandated that its children should only marry purebloods,” Arcturus stated mildly.  “We have always simply encouraged marriages with like-minded traditional families.”

Melania nodded.  “Moreover, Lord Yaxley is right; the reason why our Houses encouraged our children to marry within the pureblood lines was to strengthen the opportunity for Sentinels and Guides to be born!”

“Your own House motto emphasises the need for pure blood!” blustered Fawley.

“’Tourjours Purs,’ is not about blood!” Arcturus said bitingly.  “It’s about purity of intent!”

Consternation was the main expression on each of the men’s faces.

“The fact is that Malfoy had been pushing a pureblood superiority agenda ever since he inherited the seat from his father,” Arcturus stated bluntly, “and he’s dragged you into it as willing accomplices.  All such bigotry does is strengthen Dumbledore’s side and make the neutrals like Greengrass less willing to compromise with us.”

“But Dumbledore is why we must maintain our alliance!” Selwyn said plaintively.  “Surely you see that?”

“I see that you all need to think about what you really want in an alliance,” Arcturus declared.  “The House of Black remains pure.”

The dismissal in his voice was evident, and reinforced when Melania rose to stand beside him, as Alphard and Logan straightened behind.

The Lords gathered themselves and began to file out.

“Bartholomew,” Arcturus murmured as Nott rose to his feet, “I assume your esteemed guest returned abroad with the recent unpleasantness?”

Nott nodded and sighed.  “Yes, he felt he couldn’t stay given Gilderoy’s arrest.”

Arcturus smiled, a wolfish predator’s glint in his eyes.  “Yes, getting your host’s son arrested is very shameful.  Please be sure to tell Tom Riddle when he comes back to these shores that the House of Black looks forward to greeting him and his pet snake.”

Beside him, Melania smiled coldly.  His Guide fully intended to take Tom Riddle’s head. 

And his balls. 

And his snake.

Nott’s eyes widened.  He went red, then white.  He hurried out ahead of the others, who all looked at Arcturus with dawning realisation in their faces of who had been behind the Knights of Walpurgis. 

“Good day, gentlemen,” Arcturus said mildly and watched them leave.  Melania slid her hand into his and he raised it to his lips to kiss the back of it gently.

Their allies might rally, they might not, he considered sombrely.  Either way, it didn’t matter.  If Riddle wanted a war, he would find the House of Black a formidable enemy.  There was nothing they wouldn’t do to protect their family. 

Chapter 14: A Brother’s Bargain

Sirius fidgeted as the elevator made its way down through the Ministry to the DOM.  He was flanked either side by his grandparents.  The rest of the family were gathering in his grandfather’s office in preparation for Sirius’ presentation.

Sirius inwardly sighed at the thought of it, and the Ball which would take place that evening.  After everything that had happened he had hoped that he wouldn’t need to go through with any of it, but his grandmother had insisted.  In her view, it would further emphasise the House of Black’s power after their victory against the Knights and after routing out the traitors in their own midst.

The elevator halted on another floor and Sirius sighed as the doors opened to allow those waiting entry.  He froze as he recognised the wizards walking into the small compartment.

Charlus Potter and his Heir, James.

“Charlus,” Gamps greeted the Potter Lord warmly.  He swiftly turned to gesture at Sirius.  “My Heir, Sirius; I don’t believe you’ve seen him since he was five.”

“Was it that long ago?” Charlus nodded at Sirius’ bow.  “Good to meet you, Sirius.  Dorea had nothing but good things to say about you after the family meeting.  Let me introduce my Heir, James.”

Sirius and James exchanged an awkward nod.  They shuffled to the side as the elevator took on more people and Sirius found himself trapped in a corner with his oblivious Sentinel.

“Nice presentation robes, I like the black and silver,” James said with a hesitant smile.  “You should have seen mine; Aunt Dorea insisted on colour.  I almost rivalled Dumbledore.”

Sirius smiled back, a touch shyly.  “I talked Grams out of purple.”

“The velvet’s a good choice,” James commented, a hint of ‘I have no idea what to talk about’ layered into his tone, “it’s cold in the chamber.”

His Grams had said the same thing.

“I’d have preferred leather,” Sirius blurted out, desperate for something to say.

James grinned at him.  He pushed his glasses up his nose. 

The elevator stopped again.  The clerks in front of them got out and were replaced by Aurors.

“Hey,” James said softly, “I just wanted to say…I, uh, Charlus and Dorea told me about what happened with the, uh, kidnapping and everything.  It sounded awful.  Are you and your brother alright?”

Sirius melted a little at the concern shining out of James’ hazel eyes.  “We’re fine.” He bit his lip.  “Regulus is…adjusting.”

“He’s lucky he’s found his Guide already,” James smiled ruefully.  “I haven’t found mine yet, but then not online yet either.”

It was all Sirius could do not to blurt out that James’ Guide was standing right in front of him; that Sirius was that Guide.

“How are Charlus and Dorea?” Sirius asked instead.  “I know finding out about what really happened to Henry was hard.”

“They’re…” James’ lips twisted wryly, “…adjusting.” He glanced to the front and back again.  “Are you going to be attending Hogwarts next year?”

Sirius glanced at his grandparents who looked deep in conversation with Charlus and checked the eavesdropping Aurors in front of him.  “It hasn’t been decided.”

“Well, I hope you do,” James said warmly.

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest.

The elevator stopped and the Aurors exited. 

Charlus gestured for James to follow him out.  “We’ll see you at the presentation!”

James offered him another easy smile.  “Good luck.”

Sirius managed a nod of thanks. 

The elevator doors closed.

“Sorry about that,” Gamps said, “Charlus wanted to check on my support for a Bill he’s introducing.”

Grams smiled at him teasingly.  “You seemed to get along alright with James.”

“He seems nice,” Sirius deflected.  And tried hard to ignore how his face was heating up.

Grams smiled and seemed on the verge of saying something more when luckily the elevator completed its journey.

Sirius dutifully followed his grandparents out and into a long winding corridor.

They opened the door at the end and almost bumped straight into the Chief Warlock.

“Ah, Arcturus!” Dumbledore crowed.  “And Melania!  And Sirius!”  He beamed at them, eyes twinkling madly.  “How fortunate to run into you!”

“Fortunate isn’t the word I would use,” Grams said.

His Gamps coughed.  “We have an appointment, Albus, so you’ll have to excuse us…”

“Of course, of course!” Dumbledore said cheerfully without moving aside.  “I just wanted to congratulate young Sirius here.”

Both his grandparents tensed.

“Griselda Marchbanks informed me just this morning that he achieved twelve Outstandings on his OWLs!” Dumbledore beamed at him.  “You must be very proud!”

“I won’t receive the formal results until August,” Sirius pointed out dryly.

Dumbledore blinked and attempted a sheepish expression.  “Ah, how absent-minded of me!”

“Perhaps you should consider retirement if you’re that absent-minded,” Grams muttered. 

“Regardless, with such wonderful results I would like to formally extend an invitation to Hogwarts for your NEWTs,” Dumbledore ploughed on, ignoring Sirius’ grandmother.  He drew out a cream-coloured envelope, resplendent with green lettering, and held it out for Sirius to take.

Sirius knew better than to take it. 

Grams coughed and lifted her wand.

“Is that necessary, Melania?” tutted Dumbledore.

His Grams raised her eyebrows.  “You tell me, Albus.”

Dumbledore sighed.  “Check if you must.”

Grams waved her wand in a familiar diagnostic pattern.  “Standard compulsion charm which accompanies all letters from Hogwarts.”  She tapped it and there was a puff of green smoke.  “I’ll take it for now.”  She snatched it from Dumbledore and gave him an imperious look.  “I’m sure it will be one of many that Sirius receives.”

Dumbledore’s twinkle dimmed, but he rallied.  “Well, I’m certain Hogwarts may hold a special appeal since his brother already attends.”

“For now,” remarked Grams archly.

Gamps gave the cough he always gave when he was trying to hide a laugh. “We’re going to be late.”

Sirius gave a pained smile to Dumbledore who finally shuffled out of the way. 

“I look forward to seeing you at your presentation later, Sirius,” Dumbledore waved as he closed the door, leaving them in a weird atrium. “Lovely robes although they could do with some colour!”

Sirius sighed.

His Gamps headed for the door on the right and Sirius followed his grandparents through and into a bustling open plan office behind a long reception desk. 

One of the reception witches sprang up.  “Lord and Lady Black, Heir Black.”  She greeted them cheerfully.  “Director Hooper-Bell is expecting you.  Right this way.”

She led them through the maze of desks and through another long corridor.  Finally, they entered a large spacious office which already held the Director of the DOM, Head Auror Moody and a wizard who was introduced as John Whittaker, Head of the DMLE.

“We’re just waiting on one other,” Hooper-Bell said.  “Take a seat.” 

Whittaker looked at his DOM counterpart pointedly. 

Hooper-Bell rolled his eyes.  “Please.”

Sirius nervously took a seat on the sofa with his Grams on one side and his Gamps on the other.  They all sprang up as the door opened and…

“Madame Jacobson!” Sirius almost stuttered at the sight of her. 

She looked nothing like the stuffy old tutor who had taught him for the previous year.  Instead of the Victorian style dresses and robes, she wore a tight-fitting modern black suit, under open grey robes with a badge pinned to her lapel.  Her grey hair was a lush caramel brown.

“Actually, it’s Special Agent Jacobs of Interpol’s Magical Investigative Division,” she replied crisply.  “I apologise for the deception.”

Grams glowered at her.  “Why was such a deception necessary?”

“We had Humphrey Graves under surveillance for a while,” Jacobs waved them back into their seats as she took the only comfortable chair.

Whittaker sat on one of the remaining wooden chairs, and Moody took the other.  Hooper-Bell conjured up a chair and sat on it.

“He made a clear threat against your grandson in one recording,” Jacobs continued crisply.  “We thought it best to place him under our protection.”

“We should have been told!” Gamps thundered out.  “I also want to know why Graves wasn’t removed from the investigation into the Knights attack if you knew he was dirty and a threat to my grandson!”

Jacobs looked at him evenly.  “It wasn’t my call.”

“It was mine,” Hooper-Bell confessed bluntly and waved dismissively at Sirius’ grandfather.  “I figured we’d give him enough rope to hang himself.  Unfortunately, he disappeared from our surveillance the moment your family meeting began.” 

“Graves was in the Nott residence under the blocking spell,” Sirius guessed.  “He had to have been there if he was sent to get Regulus to make me more compliant.”

“Good guess, lad,” Moody nodded.  “That’s our best guess too.  He showed up on our monitoring when he used the Floo to get into Blackhaven.”

“Which he would have been unable to do if we had known he was a threat!” snapped Grams.

“You have our deepest apologies, Lord and Lady Black,” Whittaker said with enough sincerity that his Grams subsided. 

“I accept,” Gamps said formally.

Whittaker nodded.  “Firstly, having examined the evidence, the plot to kill off the patriarchal line of the House of Black seems to have originated with Walburga Black and Lavinia Malfoy.  Malfoy’s coven may have known about it, but we haven’t been able to identify the current members.”

“Bellatrix Lestrange was able to confirm that neither she nor her sisters were invited to be members,” Moody commented gruffly. 

“Narcissa probably would have been invited after the wedding,” mused Melania.

“Either way, the Goyles who might still be members are abroad and we have no substantial evidence to bring them in for questioning,” Whittaker stated.  He shifted position and sighed.  “Unfortunately there is also no evidence to prove a link between the plot and Abraxas Malfoy’s political manoeuvrings.”

Sirius felt his grandfather’s disappointment and resignation at the news.  It wasn’t a surprise and it just meant they’d have to be on their guard.

“I want to confirm that we’re holding the trials in August of those Knights captured during the incident,” Whittaker moved on. “Unfortunately, it looks like Riddle was paranoid because they all simply identified him as Lord Voldemort even under veritaserum.”

“Same goes for the other four we were able to round up based on evidence at the location,” Moody said.  “But the masks mean that we couldn’t get clear identification of anyone else.  The Knights barely know each other; they were all told to keep their identities secret and to use the masks.”

“We figure there are still many Knights hiding now in the shadows,” Hooper-Bell said with disgust.

“Then we’ll drag them out,” Gamps declared.

Jacobs cleared her throat and placed an amulet on the coffee table.  “These were originally invented for use by the Allies during the Second World War to assist with going undetectable by Sentinels and Guides.”

“At full masking, they can hide the true nature of a person from the Sentinel or Guide and are used by law enforcement all the time,” Hooper-Bell explained briskly.  His blue gaze landed on Sirius.  “You seem instinctively distrustful of anyone wearing one.”

“So was Grams,” Sirius pointed out with a shrug. “It’s probably a Guide thing.”

“It’s not,” Jacobs countered, “your grandmother was distrustful because you, her Alpha, were distrustful.”

Sirius frowned and looked to his Grams.  She wore a contemplative expression but gave a small nod to him.

“That’s not the only way you’re different, is it?” Jacobs continued.  She tapped her wand on the coffee table and a file appeared.  “I investigated why Graves believed you were such a threat.  This is the original forensics report from the night of your father’s death.”

Sirius felt his heart leap into his throat.  He remembered how Graves had taunted him with the knowledge of Regulus’ blood on the blade.

“Your mother dosed Regulus with a sleeping draught,” Jacobs said, almost kindly, “she took him to the basement and you followed.  But you were three years old.  By the time you walked down there, Walburga had already stabbed your brother’s heart.  He was dying.”

“No,” Gamps protested, “there wasn’t a mark on Regulus!  He wasn’t hurt!”

Sirius tore his gaze away from the file and collided with Moody’s compassionate eyes. 

“Ah, lad,” Moody said quietly, “you came online to follow your brother’s spirit into the Otherworld.” He sighed.  “That’s what brought your father online despite being under a dormancy potion.  He felt his children die.”

“Sirius?” his Grams brushed a stray lock of hair away from his face, back towards the small bun he wore.  “Are they…are they right?”

He turned to her, begging with his eyes for her not to ask; he couldn’t answer.

“Sirius,” Gamps said firmly, “answer your grandmother.”

“I can’t,” Sirius admitted hoarsely.  “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

There was a ripple in the air…

Everything went cold.

Gaea appeared next to the sofa; dark-robed and hooded.

The three law enforcement professionals immediately had their wands out; Hooper-Bell looked fascinated, awe-struck.  His grandparents moved to protect him.

Padfoot was suddenly there beside him.

“It’s alright,” Sirius managed to say, reaching out to touch both his grandparents as he stood.  “It’s..”

“Gaea,” identified Hooper-Bell.  “Mother of Life, Death and Magic.”

Moody, Whittaker and Jacobs all looked at the head of DOM with scepticism.

“He’s right,” Sirius said.

Gaea lifted her hood and stared at the gathering with her blue fathomless eyes.  “Oh, do sit down and put your wands away the lot of you!”

They all resumed their seats like recalcitrant children. 

“You will cease to ask Sirius about the events of that night,” Gaea instructed them all tersely.

“But we can guess at what occurred here with you.  You made a bargain with my grandson,” Gamps stated.  He placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, comforting and possessive.

Gaea looked at him directly.  “Yes, I did.”

“You had no right!” Grams blurted out.  Her hands were clenched into fists.

Sirius reached out and pried one of them open to hold it; she clutched onto him tightly, almost too tightly.

“He was a child!” Grams continued.  “You had no right to use him!”

“He is my child,” Gaea told her bluntly, “just as you are my child, Melania Alexandra Black.” She smiled fondly.  “And I have not left him without help.”

Padfoot raised his head.

“I don’t care,” Grams bit out, “he should not have had to carry this burden alone!”

“And he will not,” Gaea said.  “His Sentinel will be by his side…”

“He should not have carried this burden through his childhood with nothing more than a Grim to comfort him!” Gamps interrupted her.  “My Guide is right.  Sirius was three!”

Gaea raised her eyebrows at his Gamps.  “You and your Guide have loved him every day,” she said, “he has never been alone.”

Sirius’ felt his chest tighten with emotion.

“His vow to me both then and on the night of his sixteenth birthday are pure in intent,” Gaea said.  “Know that he is my Hand on this Earth.  Do not question him on this any further.”

She disappeared between one blink of an eye and another.

His Grams moved to hug him tightly and he felt his grandfather’s hand on his shoulder tighten.  She moved back eventually to regard him with wet eyes.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Grams murmured.

Sirius nodded his gratitude, unable to speak.

“Did that just happen?” asked Whittaker, breaking the tension.

His Grams gave a breathy laugh.

“If you mean did Gaea manifest and tell us to lay off her Chosen One,” Hooper-Bell said bluntly, “then, yes.”  He regarded Sirius with blatant curiosity.

Jacobs breathed out sharply.  “What am I going to put in the report?”

“I rather think we’ll have to leave Gaea’s visit as undocumented and need-to-know,” Hooper-Bell said, visibly annoyed.

“We can say that we ascertained that retrieving the memory and information would endanger the Tribe,” Moody said crisply.  “That’s it.” He pointed at her.  “All the actions of the past and present by the Blacks in this room have already been cleared by the International Sentinel and Guide Wizarding Council.  You have no jurisdiction here but what we’re granting you, girly.”

“Do not call me girly!” Jacobs snapped.  She sighed and conceded with a nod.  “But you’re right.”

“Right then,” Whittaker nodded, “that’s settled.”

“Are we done?” asked Arcturus briskly.  “We do have preparation for a presentation to be getting on with.”

Hooper-Bell looked at his colleagues and nodded.  “We’re done.”

They all stood up.

“Needless to say, I’d like you to keep a position in the DOM in mind when you graduate,” Hooper-Bell said as he shook Sirius’ hand. 

“Don’t try to steal my apprentice!” Moody protested.

Sirius blushed. 

“Really,” Jacobs sniffed, “if he’s anyone’s apprentice, he’s mine!  He was my student!”

“And we’re leaving,” Gamps declared.

“Thank you for coming down,” Whittaker said politely, shaking hands.  “Good luck at your presentation.”

Sirius walked back to his grandfather’s office in a daze.  He was barely aware of his grandparents ushering the others into the outer office, dismissing the concerns of the rest of the family briskly, reassuring Regulus that Sirius would see him in just a moment.

“We won’t press you,” Grams promised.  “But we know now and if you need to talk about this…”

“Thanks, Grams,” Sirius said, squeezing her hand.  He looked at his grandfather.  “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, Gamps, but…”

“It’s alright, Sirius,” Gamps cupped his cheek.  “Your actions that night saved your brother.  You took on a sacred duty and I’m so proud of you.”

“Sirius,” Grams hugged him again.  “Do you need anything?  Maybe some hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate,” Sirius agreed.  More to give his grandmother something to do than because he wanted the drink.  She left him alone with his grandfather.

“I’m only going to say this once,” his Gamps said, “and then we won’t talk about it until you wish it, but whatever you vowed, whatever task Gaea has for you on this Earth, your Grams and I…everyone in the family who matters will stand by your side.”

Sirius felt his eyes prickle hotly.  He managed to nod.

The knife clatters to the floor, bloody.

Sirius sees his brother’s spirit enter the shadows by the altar and he runs on small legs past the circle of figures on the floor, something blooming inside of him…

He darts past his mother’s grasping hands, a spell hits him but he ignores the pain, he leaps for the shadows and disappears…

The path is misty, but Sirius is surefooted…he can sense his brother just ahead…

The riverbank almost makes his heart stop…his brother is already sliding into the river, the water pulling him away…and Sirius hurries into it, grasping his brother’s hand and tugging…

Regulus giggles and clutches onto him, trusting his big brother…

Sirius can feel the tide tugging him further downstream and then…

A Grim catches hold of his pyjama top and begins to drag him to the riverbank.  He staggers out with the Grim’s help, carrying his squirming brother, clambering over the dirt and grass to collapse in the hollowed space at the bottom of an ancient Elder tree…

Sirius is so cold and wet and he really wants his Daddy…well, the Daddy who doesn’t stink of potion…the one who sneaks into the nursery and plays with him sometimes…

The Grim cuddles into him and howls…

An old woman sits down beside him.  “Welcome to the Otherworld, Sirius Black.  You may call me Gaea.” 

She smiles at him and he’s warm and dry again. 

“It’s been a long time since anyone bargained with me, young Guide, but a bargain I will offer you; I will give you the life of your brother and you will promise to be my Hand on Earth, which means you will protect the innocent and defend the Tribe against a dangerous and powerful evil.  It will be our secret.”

Sirius knows it’s a big promise to make; important.  But he came to save his brother.  “Me?” Because he doesn’t think he can do it; he’s only Sirius.  His mother tells him he’s worthless every day…

“You are not worthless,” Gaea comforts him.  “You are a smart, young man with a pure heart.”  She gave a laugh.  “I once met another like you; my Galahad.”  She shakes her head.  “And you are very like him, Sirius.  You are an Alpha Guide and with my blessings you will be more still.”

“But…just me?” questioned Sirius aloud.

“You will not be alone,” Gaea assures him. “Your father battles to reach you though his victory is not certain, and your grandparents wake even now; you will be not be alone.” She smiles and pets the Grim.  “You will also have my most faithful beside you and in time the love of your Sentinel.”

Across the river, a white stag dances in and out of the trees.

His fingers tangle in the Grim’s fur as he meets the endless blue eyes of Gaea.

His brother’s life. 

There is only one answer he can give.

“I promise.”   

They step out of the shadows together and she sets Regulus on the altar, healed and whole; she lifts Sirius up to join him.  His father is lying on the ground just outside the circle, his eyes wide and horrified at the sight of Gaea; there is a thin wolf beside him.

“Close your eyes, my Child,” Gaea says and turns to face the frozen three witches in front of her. “Hello, Walburga.”

Sirius closes his eyes.

His grandfather swept Sirius into another hug and he buried into his grandfather’s warmth. 

He remembered the feeling from that night; of opening his eyes and seeing his grandfather there; of feeling truly loved and safe in his arms. 

Gaea was right; he had never been alone.  He had his family, he had the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

fin.