In the days leading up to the weekend, Arcturus diligently followed Daphne's advice. Every day, he visited Diagon Alley to get used to the crowds again, observe people, and have some ice cream. He had spent most of the previous school year away from society, accompanied only by Ron, who was constantly complaining about everything, and Hermione, who was always nagging. At first, she was nagging Ron, but when he ran off, it was just him and Hermione. They barely spoke for days, and when Ron finally returned, Hermione pounced on him like a fury, yelling across the forest about how he could leave her alone.
Alone, not "us with Harry"! That should have been the moment for Arcturus to realize that she cared about the Horcruxes, about Ron, and about Voldemort's downfall, but didn't care about him. If Arcturus had given any thought to her behavior, he would have realized back in the forest that she needed to drag the naive scarhead to the remaining Horcruxes and make him destroy the obstacle to her future well-being. And it infuriated her that she had to do it alone, without her Ron.
He didn't think of Ginny, indirectly confirming that he now saw himself as deserving of more than a readily available girl from the lower classes. However, he thought a lot about Daphne. She was a different sort of girl, the kind he had never known before. He didn't want to knock her down and have his way with her like Ginny, nor did he want to hug her and cry like he did with Cho, nor count Nargles with her like he did with Luna. He wanted to impress her with his personality, to earn her respect and admiration. She was the kind of woman for whom men perform great deeds.
And, if he were to follow her lessons, Daphne was interested in him. At the same time, Arcturus understood that she had given him a loan, one that could easily go unfulfilled. So, still uncertain about his feelings for her, he studied the family code and rituals, filled his head with etiquette, puzzled over bank statements, and read the daily news carefully, consulting Kreacher about everything. After all, one might encounter such a woman, but be unprepared for the meeting...
Clearly, the motivation was inspiring, as Arcturus progressed quickly.
On Friday, he read in the Prophet that a monument commemorating the victory over Voldemort was to be unveiled in Hogsmeade the next day. Donations had been collected and a sketch prepared in record time, and tomorrow, a magic sculptor would transform a stone block into a monument right before the public's eyes. Among those expected to attend were the Minister with his entourage, war heroes, and Dumbledore, who would give a ceremonial speech. The newspaper used phrases like "granted the honor" and "will bestow the honor," but Kreacher immediately said that the old man had probably pestered Bruster to secure a chance to show off in front of the crowd instead of the Minister, who was supposed to give such speeches.
Arcturus immediately decided he had to attend the monument's unveiling. There would be plenty of people to practice his skills on, his former friends and allies whom he wanted to re-evaluate from an outsider's perspective. Kreacher was against it, stating that under the anti-Apparition dome mentioned in the announcement, anything could happen to the only worthy representative of the Black family. After some grumbling, Kreacher relented only after Arcturus promised to ensure his own safety.
A mere promise wasn't enough for Kreacher, who arranged a proper evacuation drill for the new head of the Black family. Since house-elves could Apparate from under the dome, Kreacher planned to stay invisible beside his master and Apparate him to safety upon a prearranged signal. But that still wasn't enough for the elf. To avoid being tracked by an Apparition trail, they agreed to Apparate to an intermediate point in the backstreets of Diagon Alley, from where Arcturus would move a short distance and summon Winky, whose trail was different from Kreacher's. Since people often Apparated with house-elves from Diagon Alley, no one would be able to trace them.
Satisfied, Kreacher said their drills hadn't been in vain and that from now on, the master would visit all suspicious places with this kind of precaution. Arcturus didn't object. He even thought that if he had arranged something similar with Dobby when he, Ron, and Hermione were wandering the forests, they wouldn't have been caught by Snatchers and handed over to the Malfoys, and Dobby would still be alive.
On Saturday, Arcturus Apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade shortly before the monument unveiling and stood aside, watching the British wizards heading to the ceremony and quickly scanning everyone he could according to Daphne's method. Around five hundred spectators gathered for the unveiling, which was a significant number for magical Britain. A pedestal was already set up in the village square, and atop it, a ten-foot-tall and three-foot-wide granite block awaited transformation into the monument. A few minutes before the start, a group of about twenty people Apparated directly to the square in front of the future monument, including Minister Bruster with his security, the magic sculptor, accompanying officials, and his personal secretary, Percy Weasley. With them were Dumbledore, four younger Weasleys with their parents, Hermione, and Lily and James Potter.
Someone began to clap, and the crowd quickly joined in. The Minister waved in greeting, the typical gesture of high-ranking officials, and Arcturus watched him from afar, trying to determine if the new Minister knew about the swap of Harry Potter. He had met Kingsley Bruster in the Order of the Phoenix but was never close to the Black Auror, who treated him only as an object of high strategic importance. Bruster was straightforward and direct; it would have been a serious mistake for Dumbledore to involve him in any shady business. Most likely, he wouldn't even notice the replacement of one boy for another. Now Tonks, she might have, since during Harry's time, Arcturus had chatted with her about life, but Tonks wasn't among the resurrected yet. Arcturus hesitated to count her as dead, as he was no longer sure of anything with the Order of the Phoenix, where everyone seemed to be coming back one after the other.
When the applause began to fade, Dumbledore stepped forward, and they revived again. The dignified elder straightened up, his bright blue eyes shining with inspiration. He gave a not-so-short speech about the significance of the moment, not forgetting to mention the Weasleys and Potters standing behind him one by one, pausing after each name so the understanding crowd could fill the gap with a burst of applause. Then everyone turned to the magic sculptor, who unrolled a parchment with the sketch and began preparing for his artistic spellwork.
At that moment, another wizard walked past Arcturus, drawing his attention because he was late to the event. He was a tall old man in a worn, shabby robe and a crumpled, indeterminate gray pointed hat pulled down low over his brow. Black, unnaturally sharp eyes peered out from beneath the hat, and a long, sharply defined straight nose protruded, below which sprouted a scruffy gray beard. In recent days, Arcturus had improved his observational skills and immediately sensed something was off about this old man. Either his back was too straight for his age, or his shoulders were too strong, or the skin on his nose was too smooth...
And then he remembered where he had seen those piercing eyes and that independent posture. He had seen them briefly when he was captured by the Malfoys, but it was hard to forget a man who looked significant and remarkable even next to the snake-faced one. Compared to his older brother Rodolphus Lestrange, a large and imposing man, he was leaner and thinner, which made him seem taller. This was Rabastan Lestrange, now one of the most wanted men in Britain.
It didn't take much thought to realize he hadn't come here to admire a monument celebrating the defeat of the Death Eaters. Lestrange skirted around the crowd surrounding the monument, choosing something. Arcturus quietly followed him.
At this point, the sculptor performed his spell. The excess stone fell away, and the audience was presented with a granite depiction of young Harry Potter — robes billowing, wand at the ready, hair sticking up, glasses firmly in place, his face full of inspiration. The crowd erupted in applause, all eyes fixed on the statue, including those of the officials and war heroes standing on the platform near it. No one noticed what was happening behind the audience's backs — and then, with an almost imperceptible motion, Lestrange drew his wand and launched a nonverbal spell into the fleeting space between the applauding heads.
Arcturus marveled at the precision of the timing and the speed of the black-purple streak. The spectators weren't the target of the lone terrorist; he aimed at someone standing on the platform by the monument, and he succeeded. The streak struck James Potter in the lower back, and he fell as the old man turned and fled, hiding his wand as he went. Arcturus, almost in the path of the fleeing man, quickly stepped in his way — and when they collided, he gave Kreacher the signal.
The house-elf Apparated them to Diagon Alley, where they collapsed on top of each other. Arcturus, with his Seeker's reflexes, was the first to recover.
"I'm not your enemy," he quickly said, jumping to his feet. "Run!"
Rabastan, quick on the uptake, assessed the situation correctly and dashed after him. They ran through the backstreets for about a block before Arcturus extended his hand, and Rabastan immediately took it.
"Winky!" Another Apparition grabbed hold of them, stretched them through space, and threw them into the hall of the Black family home. There, Arcturus, still acting on instinct, warily stared at the fugitive, who stared right back.
"Where did you come from?" Rabastan's voice was a mix of suspicion and surprise.
"I was passing by, recognized you," Arcturus replied, watching his every move. "You're quite popular right now; your portraits are everywhere. I thought I'd help—why not?"
"And why would you?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"Is that so…" Rabastan relaxed, though only slightly. "Who were your enemies there?"
"Dumbledore and his minions. Why didn't you target him?"
"The trajectory didn't allow it. Had to hit whoever I could."
"I don't know that curse. Did you kill Potter?"
"It's a family curse. Didn't kill him, just partially paralyzed him. Killing's not useful to me right now—I have a different goal."
"Can I know what that goal is?"
Rabastan snorted distrustfully.
"I probably could've escaped on my own, but there might have been casualties. Fine, let's say you did help me. That curse is nasty—it weakens the body, makes it fail where it should be strong. No one but me can lift it. I plan to use it on a few important people in the current government and force them to negotiate with me."
"Do you think they'll go for it?"
"It can't get any worse," he paused and added bitterly, "I'd leave Britain, but I can't abandon the others where they are. Antonin, Josh, Augustus... remarkable people, unlike those lowlifes in power now. And you know, kid, no one deserves Azkaban. We survived there only because we remembered—everything can be fixed, except death. I need to get them out, and then we'll leave this wretched place where fools rule. I'll promise the authorities we won't return, and maybe they'll agree. What's left for us here, anyway?"
"There are no Dementors in Azkaban anymore," Arcturus reminded him.
"That won't last long. The authorities will put something in there, if not Dementors, then some other filth. And we've served more than enough time already. If we were lucky not to die with Riddle, I don't want to waste the years we have left."
"Josh—is that Joshua Travers?"
"Yes."
"He's my adoptive father."
This time, Rabastan was genuinely surprised.
"So you're that boy, Edna's son? Josh said you disappeared when the Aurors raided his home and killed Edna."
"I was kidnapped. I didn't know who I was for a long time." Arcturus didn't go into details, and Rabastan didn't ask.
"Maybe that's for the best," Rabastan reflected. "Our children were killed, but you survived. Rudi and Bella had two kids. The younger was a year old, the older three."
Arcturus hadn't known that. Dumbledore had never mentioned that the Lestranges had children, but he hadn't said the opposite either. He smirked sadly to himself—it seemed he was always The Boy Who Lived in one way or another. That was just his fate. Meanwhile, Rabastan looked around.
"I know this house. We're at the Blacks'. What's your status here?"
"I'm the master."
Rabastan raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
"So you've got Black blood in you. I think I know which of them was the family black sheep."
"I don't want to hear about him. My father is Joshua Travers, and if you're going to get him out of Azkaban, you can count on me."
"You're too young to get involved in this. It could end badly for you, and Josh won't thank me for dragging you in. Better let me handle it."
That was a stark contrast to Dumbledore, who would push a child forward with a sugary smile.
"You'd better agree, because I won't stay out of it," Arcturus stubbornly replied. Rabastan looked at him carefully and shook his head in frustration.
"Yeah, without me, you'll get into trouble even faster than with me. Fine, we'll pull our people out together. Lucius and his son are still in there, too—we should take them along if he doesn't manage on his own."
"The Malfoys?!" Arcturus's old grudge against his school enemy flared up. "They're traitors!"
"Saving yourself isn't the same as betraying others. If Lucius hadn't bought his way out of Azkaban, we wouldn't have been able to escape, and we'd have nowhere to hide after the breakout. And as for what he's done recently, you can't really blame him—Riddle lost his mind after his rebirth anyway."
Arcturus stared at Rabastan in utter amazement. He hadn't expected to hear such words from one of Voldemort's most loyal supporters.
"I thought you were loyal to Riddle, no matter what."
"We were loyal to ourselves, kid. By the way, what should I call you?" Rabastan squinted for a moment, recalling, and spoke before the young man could reply. "Arcturus, right? Edna named you after the Blacks. I should've figured that out back then."
Arcturus could only nod in confirmation.
"What's our next move?" he asked his new ally.
"I'll think about it, Arcturus. I'll think, and I'll send you a letter so we can arrange a meeting. For now, ask your house-elf to take me to London."
"To where exactly?"
"Doesn't matter. I'm living wherever I can find a place—I'm a fugitive, kid."
"Then stay here. There's plenty of space, food too, and if you need to hide... well, there are places for that."
Rabastan hesitated. On the one hand, he didn't want to endanger the boy, but on the other, trusting him was still premature. However, he had been on the run for two weeks now, focusing solely on his own survival, and he needed to act. Only today had he found an opportune moment for his plan, but now he had to lay low for a few days while the Aurors scrambled like a disturbed anthill.
"I can make an Unbreakable Vow not to betray you," Arcturus added, guessing his thoughts.
Rabastan gave him an appraising look and finally gave in to temptation.
"No need for a vow. But a meal wouldn't hurt."