SIRIUS BLACK: OUR FORGOTTEN HERO , Rita Skeeter
With yesterday's shocking news that Sirius Black is innocent, we at the Daily Prophet have returned to the beginning to find out who the real Sirius Black is and what might have motivated those in power to incarcerate an innocent man.
Black was the eldest son of Orion and Walburga Black, the first Black in history to be sorted at Hogwarts into Gryffindor. There, he made friends with James Potter, a distant cousin through Dorea Black. He and Potter were considered inseparable throughout their school days. Head of Gryffindor Minerva McGonagall recalls that 'it was as though they shared the same brain.'
At the age of sixteen, Black left his family after a disagreement over their open support of You-Know-Who and was given sanctuary by the Potters, a family that had always stood for the Light. Another friend of the Potters, Amos Diggory, notes 'Black was Potter's brother in all but blood.'
After graduating overall top of his class, Black joined the Hit Wizards, partnering with Potter during training. Ex-Senior Auror Alastor Moody, his training instructor, remembers 'Black was a great Hit Wizard; the best. There was nobody better at taking down Death Eaters.' Indeed, Black was so good, he was promoted quickly and is the officer of record for eighteen Death Eater executions in battle.
In his personal life, Black was linked with several witches. Polly Bell remembers fondly; "After James and Lily wed, Lily went on a bit of a match-making exercise for Black trying to get him to settle down. I think he went on the dates to make her happy – he'd stood by James as his best man you see.'" Black had a bit of a reputation as a rake but the ladies we spoke to recalled a perfect gentleman.
In late 1980, Black was captured by Death Eaters while undercover abroad. His rescue was shrouded in secrecy (although ten of the executions mentioned above are listed around the same time) and he was badly injured. He recuperated with the Potters and after the birth of their son, Harry, was named as godfather. Healer Clarence Abby told the Prophet that Black was actually present at the birth and it was he who handed his godson to the proud mother and father; 'He doted on the child, anyone could see it."
It is on this latter point that one wonders if Black's swift exile to Azkaban following the events of October 31 st 1981 was less to do with his guilt and more to do with determining the future of the Boy Who Lived. With Black removed from the equation, the orphaned Harry was placed in the muggle world, and strangely, Black's sacrifices during the war, his long stand against You-Know-Who, and his deep friendship with the Potters were all swept under the carpet.
Rumours abound that now that Black has been declared innocent he will sue for the custody of Harry Potter and return him fully to our world. We at the Prophet wish him every success and welcome our forgotten hero home.
Remus wondered if he should feel slightly nauseous at the outpouring of simpering as he folded the paper and tossed it to the side. Brian's press strategy was going well though and the seeds had been planted for the announcement of Harry's guardianship. He wondered if Albus had felt sick reading the Prophet that morning. He hoped so.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really had to get over his anger at Albus. He did owe the old wizard for providing him with a magical education, and Albus was a great wizard who was deserving of his respect.
Except in the matter of Harry and Sirius.
He wasn't sure that he'd ever be able to forgive Albus for the Dursleys, and for not checking whether Sirius had received a trial and condemning him to twelve years of hell.
Yes, Remus thought dryly, he was doing really well at getting over his anger at Albus. He glanced at the clock and pulled the Potter file back towards him.
He'd fired the Financial Manager earlier that afternoon and put Poon in charge. The good news was that the main bulk of the estate had gone into lockdown; monies were supplied to the various caretakers of the properties for maintenance but nothing substantial. The investment portfolio though had been left to rot from what Remus could gather. A lot of money had been lost. The outlook wasn't too bad – Harry was still wealthy – but if it had been left until Harry had reached seventeen, Remus believed Harry's estate would have been halved in value. Kipbold had been as unimpressed as Remus when he had explained the reasons behind the termination.
He put the Potter file aside and started to go through the mail that had arrived. It had been almost a week since Sirius had informed the Black family members that there was a new Lord Black. They had been told to reply back care of Gringotts and Remus had collected the mail while he'd been there. Most of the distant relatives already had a Head of House in a good position to serve them, such as the Weasleys, and so Sirius had ignored those for when his identity would be announced. But Remus had been impressed at how he'd tracked down other relatives who were not so lucky, or who had been blasted from the tree.
"Dear Lord Black – or should that be Cousin?
Thanks for the recent letter to touch base and see what the Hitchens clan is up to in Canada. There's just me and my sister Fiona now.
Fi married last year to a woman called Ola; they're both happy and thinking of adopting a baby.
I'm married to a beautiful woman myself – Joanne. We have three rugrats – Amy, and twins Billy and Ray. Amy is twelve and attends a special school for the gifted in Vancouver – we're very proud of her. Billy and Ray are still in kindergarten but are great kids.
We'd love to stay in touch – Jo's thrilled at the idea we're related to an English Lord!
Cheers,
Rob Hitchens"
The marriage of Isla Black to a muggle man called Hitchens had started the line from the Black perspective but it hadn't produced a magical offspring as far as Sirius could tell. Rob Hitchins, Isla's descendent, was a muggle working for a consultancy firm but it hadn't stopped Sirius from sending his 'are you OK?' letter. As Sirius pointed out, his mother was probably rolling in her grave. Remus read over the letter again and noted the phrasing around the girl's schooling. It was the usual cover story for magic. Sirius would want to investigate more.
"Sirius,
You old dog you can't fool me! The news of your innocence just reached me via international law enforcement channels. I'm glad you're the Lord and I expect you'll redecorate the whole House.
Australia is great – Uncle Alphard was right about that – you really should have come with me! I'm a respectable Senior Auror here in Sydney these days, married Anna, a muggleborn, two years ago and she just gave birth to my firstborn Jason.
My sister Emile is still in France, married a pureblood bastard, and gave birth to one – let's say no more about that. I should warn you that she may approach you for a rapprochement.
My younger half-sister Suzie is a squib like old departed Dad and looks after the Evil Step-Mother who is still alive more's the pity and living at the old place just outside Paris. No hubby on the horizon but Suzie's a good girl.
Yeah, we should probably arrange a call to discuss matters – now you've pointed it out to me I wouldn't want someone like Malfoy getting hold of anything if you were to unexpectedly die either. Give me a shout when you're available.
Simeon Black."
Remus laughed out loud and set the letter aside for Sirius to read. He knew Simeon, Marius Black's son, was Sirius's choice to become regent of the House of Black in the event of his untimely death – separate arrangements would be made in respect of Harry's guardianship and the House of Potter, but Simeon would effectively take financial and political control until Harry, Sirius's legally declared heir, came of age. It sounded like Simeon and Sirius were fairly similar. Sirius had admitted that they were about the same age and Alphard had introduced them when Sirius was eight. Simeon and he had apparently been on-off pen-pals until Simeon had left France just after Sirius had graduated from Hogwarts.
"Lord Black,
My thanks for your recent announcement and enquiry.
I do not require the assistance of the House of Black. My great-nephew, Cletus Polt, will assume the House of Burke on his majority.
Your cousin, Beatrice."
Remus grimaced Beatrice Burke was a hundred and two years old, set in her ways and considered a harridan. Sirius hadn't known about the great-nephew or Remus was sure he'd have skipped telling her.
"My Lord Black,
Thank you for your recent letter. My situation is comfortable. My husband Theodore and I take great joy in our daughter, Nymphadora. We have no immediate need for assistance.
We would be delighted to attend a Family Meeting at your convenience.
Your cousin, Andromeda"
Remus knew Sirius would be pleased with that as he wanted to bring the Tonks back into the family. He picked up the final letter.
"My Dear Lord Black,
I offer thanks and appreciation for your recent announcement and enquiry.
My marriage to Lucius is successful and our partnership influential in British politics. You will find us a boon in navigating current waters. We have increased the Black wealth endowed to us. Our son, Draco, is at Hogwarts and performs well in most subjects, excelling at Potions and winning the role of seeker for his house team. You will find him a delightful addition to the Black family. We have no immediate need for assistance but welcome the return of the protection and patronage of the House of Black.
We are at your service and will be delighted to attend a Family Meeting at your convenience.
Your cousin, Narcissa."
Remus stuck his tongue out childishly at the letter. He clipped his notes to each letter and filed them away for Sirius to review when he got back.
He checked the clock, drank down his tea and quickly made his way to the floo in the reception room, summoning his briefcase along the way. He'd almost forgotten the interview he was due to perform. He flooed through to the Leaky Cauldron and took a key from Tom. It led to a private sitting room just off the main area. Remus checked the room thoroughly and put up a privacy charm.
The knock came almost immediately and Remus called for the applicant to enter. Penelope Clearwater walked in and stopped in surprise at the sight of Remus.
"Please take a seat, Miss Clearwater." Remus motioned at the chair across from him.
"Professor," Penelope said, "I didn't realise you would be interviewing me. Professor Flitwick didn't mention it when he informed me of the opportunity."
Remus studied her nervousness with a regretful sigh. "If you're too anxious about interviewing with a werewolf, Miss Clearwater, you're probably not right for this job as it involves working with me."
"Oh no, that's not it," Penelope apologised immediately, "I'm so sorry! I'm just…" her hand flailed weakly.
"Nervous?" suggested Remus dryly.
"Yes," Penelope said, "I've had plenty of interviews but I just don't know why I don't get the job and it's made me…well, shall you just give me the bad news now?"
She looked totally miserable and thanks to Filius, Remus understood why. Penelope had been a prefect, aced her NEWTs by all accounts and yet she'd been turned down for position after position – Remus assumed because she was muggleborn. Filius had heard from Albus about Remus's good fortune in securing a new position and had sent a note asking if Remus knew if there was any work suitable for Penelope.
"Take a seat, Miss Clearwater." Remus said with more authority and was pleased when she hurried to the chair and sat down, placing her bag on the floor.
She straightened her tidy navy robes. "Thank you, Professor, I mean, Mister Lupin."
"Did Professor Flitwick tell you what the opportunity was?" Remus asked hoping Filius had shared that much with the girl.
"A secretarial position." Penelope said. It was obvious she was attempting to sound excited about something she thought was dreadfully dull.
"A little bit more than that." Remus said. "What I'm going to tell you needs to remain confidential whether you take the position or not."
She nodded hurriedly.
"I'm the steward to an Ancient and Noble House, meaning I look after the financials and the estate management. The Lord has just taken over the Head of House duties and will be assuming a seat in the Wizengamot which will mean meetings and social events. We need an executive assistant to deal with the scheduling, organising the events we hold, corresponding with quite senior figures, taking minutes, and generally dealing with all the things that we won't necessarily have time to deal with. All of which I'm sure you're more than capable of handling given your academic expertise." He paused. "What was the first position you applied for?"
"An administrator role in the Department of Magical Transportation." Penelope said. "I had hoped to begin a career in the Ministry."
"An admirable goal," Remus said. "What this opportunity would give you is the political exposure, contacts and sponsorship you need to get into the Ministry as a muggleborn."
Penelope's eyebrows shot up at the blunt truth. "You mean I didn't get a position because of…but that's discrimination and…" she stopped abruptly as she recalled who she was complaining to and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, I'm so…"
"No apologies necessary," Remus waved her off, "the truth is we're both discriminated against – myself officially under law and you unofficially under tradition. The Ministry prefers positions are appointed to purebloods first."
"I think Mister Weasley tried to warn me." Penelope admitted ruefully. She took a breath and fixed Remus with a determined look. "I'm happy to take the position if you'll have me."
"Good," Remus said, "when can you start?"
"Tomorrow." Penelope offered.
"You'll need to come to the house. Shall we say ten o'clock?" Remus gestured with his wand over a slip of parchment. She frowned as she took hold of it.
"My steward Remus Lupin invites you to 12 Grimmauld Place"
"The Fidelius charm?" Penelope asked excitedly.
"He's quite protective of his privacy. The parchment will be blank for anyone but you." Remus said dryly. "I'll explain everything tomorrow. You should be prepared to take an employment oath and we'll go over your duties and salary then." He got to his feet.
Penelope got to hers, stuck out her hand and offered a bright smile. "Thank you for the opportunity, Mister Lupin."
"Call me Remus. We will be colleagues." Remus offered, shaking her hand.
"Oh, well then you must call me Penelope." She said, letting go and picking up her bag. "Thanks again, Remus." She bit her lip. "Lordy, that was weird."
"Think how I felt when I called my old Head of House Minerva for the first time." Remus commiserated cheerfully and laughed at her horrified expression as she realised he meant Professor McGonagall. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He waited until she was gone before he took down the privacy charm, grinning to himself all the while. A muggleborn assistant for Lord Black. Sirius's ancestors would be disgusted at letting a muggleborn have such a prestigious position.
And Sirius was going to be delighted.
o-O-o
"We're losing him!"
Sirius felt his heart stutter in his chest but he refused to be removed from his place by Harry's side as the healers bustled around him, trying to save his godson.
Neither he nor Harry had slept well in the cabin they'd been appointed the night before. It was a great cabin; it had two bedrooms, a shower room, a large den and a small kitchenette. There was even a private pool attached. But they hadn't been able to appreciate it fully after the news about Harry's scar.
Sirius had gotten up half-way through the night to find Harry sat in front of the fire in the den. He'd changed into Padfoot and offered doggy comfort, feeling that Harry would pretend he was fine to a worried and panicking godfather but might open up to his alter ego. As Harry had petted him and slowly started confiding in Padfoot about his fears over the treatment, over the residue and the connection, Sirius figured he'd made the right call.
The morning though had seen Harry scared but resolute; Sirius had never been so proud of him. Harry has asked him tentatively if he would stay with him during the procedures and Sirius had immediately reassured him that he would be there every step of the way.
He was not going to be moved. His hand tightened around Harry's.
His godson had been given a potion that rendered him unconscious. A metal bracelet had been placed on one wrist, draining Harry's magic away from him. A balding middle-aged Healer called Darcy was perched at Harry's head with strange aura tracing goggles adorning his face, a magical wand fashioned like a muggle scalpel in his hand, prying the dark form of the foreign soul-piece away from Harry's scar.
Everything had been going well until the dark blob caught on the end of the medical wand had begun to fight back, additional tendrils snaking out towards Harry faster than Darcy could cauterize them.
Harry had begun to thrash violently. Jordan and another female healer, Gargou, had stepped into hold him down. And now…
Harry had stopped breathing!
Blackhawk stepped up and waved his wand furiously over Harry's form; breathing apparatus appeared over Harry's mouth and nostrils, sending oxygen into his body.
Sirius could breathe again too; his heart pounded loudly in his chest.
"We need to drain his magic more! This bastard is fighting tooth and nail here!" Darcy snapped, his blue eyes flashing imperiously at Blackhawk.
"If we drain anymore of the magical core, we'll kill the boy!" Jordan argued.
"She is right." Blackhawk said. "We did not anticipate the soul piece being so strong; it must have fed a great deal on the boy's magic despite the binding."
Gargou snapped her fingers, her dark eyes darting towards Blackhawk. "We need to give Potter power without giving the soul piece any!"
"How?" Darcy demanded even as he severed another tendril that tried to make its way from the dark shape at the end of the wand back to Harry. There were several tendrils still attached, clinging with all their might to the scar.
"The only magic that answers to the boy alone would be his family magic." Blackhawk stated swiftly. He looked over Harry's prone form to Sirius. "Can you call it through the godfather oath?"
Sirius had no idea – he'd never heard of family magic being called that way – but he nodded sharply. "I can try." He cleared his throat, brought Harry's hand to rest against his heart and placed his own remaining hand over Harry's thin, naked chest. "I, Sirius Orion Black, godfather to Harry James Potter in heart, in magic, in oath. This son of the House of Potter has need of you – familius magicus protectus!"
Suddenly, a golden mist sprang up from Harry's skin and formed a fierce griffin who gave a wild cry.
The griffin looked towards Sirius and somehow Sirius knew what it wanted…what he had to do…
"I, Sirius Orion Black, Head of the House of Black, call forth the magic of the House of Black – familius magicus protectus!"
The silver snake of the House of Black poured out of the House ring. For a long moment, snake and griffin looked at each other before the snake dived into the griffin, merging with it.
The griffin doubled in size and roared.
"Dear Merlin!" Jordan gasped.
Darcy's brow ran with sweat as he lifted his eyes momentarily to the frightening sight of the griffin – he had continued his work throughout the calling, focused on trying to remove all the tendrils of evil from Harry. The griffin roared again and dived for Harry's scar, finally sending Darcy scuttling back, losing the dark soul on the end of his wand in the process.
But the griffin was suddenly there; one claw drove into the boy's head and emerged with the last of the tendrils while the other caught the dark soul fragment in its talons.
For a second, there was silence and then the dark form screamed as the talons shredded it to nothing.
The griffin gave a satisfied roar and settled back to sit on Harry's chest. The silver snake of the House of Black slowly reformed beside the griffin and the two totems bowed to one another before the snake disappeared. The griffin shape shimmered and destabilised, returning to a golden mist that sank back into Harry's skin.
James hadn't sent the magic to Lily, realised Sirius half-hysterically. He'd sent it to Harry! And somehow as a baby, perhaps because of the sheer terror of that moment with Voldemort and the trauma of seeing his mother killed in front of him, Harry had used the magic and helped power his mother's spell so much so that his family magic had become part of the blood protection Lily had given him. No wonder Voldemort couldn't touch him; not only was there the blood ward itself but it was merged with the purest Light magic of the House of Potter.
Blackhawk tapped the metal bracelet and Harry's magic began to return to him. Sirius dropped a kiss on Harry's palm, rubbed his thumb over the kid's knuckles.
"Almost done, Harry." Sirius whispered soothingly to the unconscious boy.
Darcy had swapped to a normal wand and was busily magically cleansing the freely bleeding scar on Harry's forehead, Gargou stood poised with salve and bandages to move in when he'd finished. Jordan banished the apparatus, satisfied that Harry was breathing on his own again.
The bracelet fell away, signalling that Harry's magic was returned and Blackhawk moved immediately, his wand weaving over Harry's form in a delicate pattern to remove the binding that had been placed on him.
Harry started to glow with each swish of the wand and Sirius raised anxious eyes to Blackhawk. Blackhawk's face grew grave but he continued to work and Harry glowed brighter with each swish.
"Healers! Move back!" Blackhawk ordered as the light became blinding.
Darcy, Gargou and Jordan hurried to obey.
Another swish…
There was a flash like a camera which made Sirius blink…
A rush of pure power slapped into him…backlash from the binding coming free…
He threw himself over Harry without a second thought, protecting his godson…
And silence.
Sirius looked up and saw Blackhawk picking himself up off the floor. He limped back to Harry and began a diagnostic while the other healers returned to their former positions. Sirius felt Harry's racing heartbeat under his palm and slowly eased back to stand beside him again.
Blackhawk began another set of wand movements. "I am effectively bandaging Harry's magical core in healing magic; it is wounded after the removal of such a powerful binding."
Sirius nodded, relieved. Darcy moved back and Gargou smeared salve into Harry's forehead before she picked up her wand and had the bandage wrap itself around Harry's head.
Jordan brought over three vials, spelling the contents straight into Harry's system. She caught Sirius's worried gaze and smiled reassuringly. "One potion was a nutrient and strengthening potion to help his body recover. One was a pain potion and the other was a sleeping potion. He needs to remain calm and still while his core heals."
"We will wake him tomorrow." Blackhawk said, finally stepping away. "Remarkable."
"I'll say," Darcy agreed, "I've never seen any as powerful as that soul fragment." He sighed. "Evil things. Haven't seen one since I returned from service in Korea."
"I've never seen family magic work that way." Gargou said, sending a questioning look towards Sirius.
"Me either." He said, stroking Harry's sweat soaked hair away from his bandaged scar. Family magic wasn't supposed to act with sentience the way the griffin had; it wasn't supposed to combine with another's family magic to assist it the way the snake had. He had no clue how it had happened, if it had something to do with what Harry had accidentally done to incorporate the magic into his protection; Sirius didn't care in truth, he was only thankful it had worked.
"I have often thought that what we know about magic is far overshadowed by what we do not." Blackhawk said wisely.
They left him then, and Sirius sat by Harry's bedside and held onto his godson's hand, content to watch Harry take breath after beautiful breath. Sirius felt like he'd lost a good decade of his life and he figured as soon as he got to a mirror he'd discover every single hair had turned grey.
The worst was over, he reminded himself. Harry was safe and on the road to recovery. Sirius still had no intention of moving until Harry woke up though. He was vaguely aware of the passing of time – as Jordan came by and spelled more pain potion into Harry and checked his vital signs, as the shadows crept from one side of the room to the other.
It was late when Blackhawk entered the room and checked on Harry with a grace that spoke of his years of practice; Sirius ignored him for the most part.
"We should discuss your treatment." Blackhawk said when he was done. "We delayed it because of the urgency in dealing with your godson but you are also here as our client."
"I'm not leaving Harry." Sirius replied automatically.
"I would not ask such a thing of you." Blackhawk swept his wand around the room and a table replete with a light dinner appeared at the end of the bed. He motioned at it. "You must remain strong if you are to take care of your godson."
Sirius accepted the blatant manipulation with a sigh. He rubbed his thumb over Harry's knuckles one last time, stood and dropped a kiss lightly on Harry's bandaged forehead. "I'll be right at the foot of your bed, Harry." He walked over and dropped into a chair.
He massaged his forehead and looked tiredly at the food in front of him; chicken broth of some kind with fresh bread. He picked up the roll and tore a piece off to nibble on while he picked up the spoon half-heartedly. He realised belatedly Blackhawk was weaving a privacy charm so that they could talk without disturbing Harry but would still be alerted if he so much as twitched.
"Thank you," Sirius said and he knew the thanks were for more than the charm.
Blackhawk inclined his head and sat down. He began to eat and they concentrated on the food until the broth was gone. Steamed fish, greens and rice followed it.
Sirius declined a platter of fruit when it appeared, instead settling for strong black coffee. They rarely drank the beverage in the British wizarding world; tea was preferred, pumpkin juice as a soft drink. He'd forgotten how much he liked it. Maybe he could introduce it properly, Sirius considered; it would be a good investment. His eyes flickered to Harry checking on him – his godson hadn't moved.
"You love him very much." Blackhawk said.
"Yes." Sirius replied without pretence.
Blackhawk hummed. "And yet you know so little about him."
Sirius's gaze snapped to Blackhawk. He swallowed the first retort that came to mind. "Do you have children, Healer Blackhawk?"
"Seven." Blackhawk answered. "And I have been blessed with twenty grandchildren and three great-grandchildren."
"Congratulations," Sirius said dryly, "now imagine due to your own stupidity you lost one when he was but a baby. For years you don't see him but you think about him when you can. And then, you find him, only he's thirteen, not quite grown up but not quite a child anymore either, and no; you don't know him." He held Blackhawk's gaze. "But do you still love him?"
The old wizard inclined his head conceding the point. "You consider him blood?"
"Yes." It was another answer that Sirius gave without hesitation. "He's actually a cousin though distant but James, his father, was also my brother in spirit, in heart, in magic." He could see the old terms registering with Blackhawk and wondered idly if that was why the Black magic had been able to assist the Potter magic; Harry's blood held both after all.
Sirius let his mind drift back to Harry. "I was with Harry's mother, Lily, when she went into labour, and stayed with her through most of the childbirth while our other friends went to find James who'd gone for a meeting at Gringotts. He only got back ten minutes before Harry made his appearance and Lily refused to let me leave. I got to hold Harry first. I was the one that handed him to James and Lily."
"You say you lost him through stupidity?" Blackhawk asked.
Sirius huffed. "I trusted the wrong person to see to his safety. And I thought my letting him go was temporary, just until I caught Peter, the one who betrayed them."
And he wouldn't make that mistake again. He shifted position and took a sip of coffee. He kept his gaze on Harry.
"Harry and I…we don't know each other, I know that. And he doesn't consciously remember loving me so I know if he were to consider the matter, he would believe he doesn't yet, but I think he believes he could love me and wants to love me. I know he loves the idea of me, someone who loves him and who will be there for him, but he doesn't trust that I do and I will yet." He tilted his head. "I won some ground by getting him away from Lily's sister and her family; by keeping my word and ensuring he could come live with me instead."
"For a man whose mind is shrouded in clouds, you see remarkably clearly." Blackhawk said finally.
"The Dementors did a number on me." It was a statement.
"Your mindscape is badly torn." Blackhawk acknowledged. "You require a great deal of mind healing. Your Occlumency has helped you regain some measure of control but you require additional support to regain the rest."
Sirius nodded slowly.
"I would thank you for the report you provided to Doctor Jordan of Harry's childhood. It will help her avoid some pitfalls in his mind healing." Blackhawk paused. "I don't suppose you have one for your own."
Sirius's free hand clenched into a fist and he forced himself to take a breath. "I'm afraid no-one investigated my childhood." There was a keep-out message in his tone and he wasn't surprised when Blackhawk backed off.
"Your body also requires healing." Blackhawk continued. "In that, you and your godson are remarkably similar. You both suffer with malnutrition and physical weakness. I believe it would be best for much of your treatment in this regard to be together." His eyes twinkled. "It will aid in your getting to know each other."
Sirius felt his lips twitch, reluctant amusement swelling at the comment.
"We should speak of Albus Dumbledore." Blackhawk said finally. "You have a lot of anger towards him about the binding on Harry."
"I have a lot of anger towards him full stop." Sirius admitted with frank honesty. "He was primarily responsible for Harry ending up in the custody of the Dursleys. He failed to check on him and failed to ensure Harry was safe with them. He's used Harry since in regards to Voldemort." He gave a sigh. "And I'm not exactly thrilled that he left me to rot in Azkaban without a trial or a visit when I worked as part of his Order against Voldemort." He motioned with his cup. "The binding is just the latest item on my list of things to be angry at Dumbledore for."
Blackhawk nodded slowly in understanding. "The problem with great men is that everyone looks to them to know everything, and quite often they themselves fall into the trap of believing that they do. I believe it so of Albus's actions in regards to the soul anchor and binding. I don't believe he knew how to solve the problem of the soul piece without killing Harry, and thus believing there was no solution, he did the binding to keep the remnant weak."
"Do you know him?" Sirius asked a little rudely.
"We are acquaintances not friends." Blackhawk said. "We met when I toured Europe some years ago." He picked up his water. "Albus is a true master of transfiguration and potions. He made a fascinating dinner companion, and is somewhat useful as a correspondent when we require an expert opinion on spells in order to heal damage such as your uncle's, but we have little else in common. I have dedicated my life to healing just as the rest of the people of the Valley; we learn more and more every day; we learn from the muggles as much as we do from other healers around the world."
Sirius appreciated Blackhawk's honesty. "My apologies for my abruptness." He murmured. "Perhaps you're right and he didn't know how to deal with it. I just…I worry about his motives."
"Consider this," Blackhawk said, "that Halloween night, Albus had reason to believe that this soul hook within Harry was the only anchor to life that Voldemort had. He could have killed the child, believing that to do so would eliminate Voldemort as a threat."
Sirius frowned, his blood running cold at the thought. Merlin, it could have happened too because Dumbledore hadn't known about the other horcruxes at that point.
"Instead, he chose to keep the child alive." Blackhawk said. "However, I admit it is confusing that he has never sought to find a solution in the years since although he may have done with other healers who may also not have known a solution."
"I don't think he did." Sirius said. "We think there may be a prophecy involved."
Blackhawk frowned heavily. "Such things should always be treated with caution. I should know."
Sirius looked at him with interest. "Are you a Seer?"
"Not truly." Blackhawk said eventually. "I always See my clients but that is the extent of my gift. I Saw the image of you and Harry arriving when your uncle shook my hand in farewell. Of course, I thought you would be twenty-seven and Harry would be five when you arrived; when the time passed and you did not come…I believed my Sight had failed for the first time." He smiled ruefully. "I didn't take a de-aging potion into account." He motioned at Sirius. "And so you see why visions and prophecies require careful handling. It is all too easy to discover that what you think they show or mean is something else entirely."
Sirius nodded slowly, his attention shifting again to the boy in the bed. "I just want to keep Harry safe."
"Then we must get you fit enough to face the challenge." Blackhawk stood up.
Sirius followed, stretching to get the kinks out of his back.
"Your other form will be more comfortable for sleeping, I feel." Blackhawk smiled. "Be warned that my colleague takes a dim view of dog hair." He vanished the table and left.
It only took a moment for Sirius to shift into Padfoot. He jumped up on the bed and sidled up to nudge Harry's hand with his cold nose.
So, maybe he wouldn't kill Dumbledore, Sirius mused, mulling over Blackhawk's words; Dumbledore had kept Harry alive and maybe the binding had been to help not hurt so…maybe Sirius would only maim him a little. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of Harry beside him, the sound of Harry's wonderful breathing, lull him to sleep.