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"This is unacceptable!" Sirius slammed his fist down on his desk, showcasing his anger, while still doing his best to keep a lid on it, knowing losing his cool completely served no purpose.
Again and again he'd attempted to take over the majority shares of the Daily Prophet, the national paper who by design was controlled by a wide variety of owners to prevent any single actor from having control of it.
Not everyone in the magical world was a moron. In the hands of anyone but Sirius, he agreed. No one should have a majority stake of the paper. That's likely how Fudge got away with so much in regards to the Prophet - with Malfoy and Briarwood backing him with the paper with their combined shares.
With Pollux having flubbed his only job - by having the news spread ahead of him of their efforts. Sirius continued to fail at getting the majority that could be so crucial going forward. Too many shares were held by Briarwood and Malfoy combined for him to break through on his own.
The two of them holding so many shares combined was proof of the Briarwoods having found a good niche to begin with (Sirius had suspicions on how they'd gotten their shares) - likely why they'd suffered no real harm in the war, they weren't needed as combatants.
The Briarwoods were unfortunately unusually competent at avoiding him. Even with the hair he'd stolen from the only Hogwarts age family member - and therefore the only one of them available to his reach - he'd still failed to locate them.
And he couldn't try again, the ritual he'd used had hit some very strong family wards - despite the ritual being designed to be able to locate anything, his fault for not using blood, he supposed, the strongest medium. But bloodletting a Hogwarts student was a step too far for him.
He had to keep some set of ethics and standards lest he becomes what he's setting out to depose.
Either way, the next day, after the ritual, the girl was pulled from Hogwarts, so even if he changed his mind he no longer had that recourse. The Briarwoods obviously intended to completely turtle up behind family wards and hold on to their shares with everything they got.
No doubt counting on them for protection if Voldemort rose again. That they'd be able to ride out another war if it happened.
They weren't noble or ancient enough to matter enough in national politics, not rich enough to bribe their way forward like Malfoy, at least not for very long. Their shares were their line to the powerful - their influence in pushing the news in a particular direction.
If he'd had the chance to meet them face to face, perhaps he'd be able to change their minds, but that avenue was lost.
With how determinedly they were avoiding him… They were likely a lost cause now. Sirius would not resort to kidnapping or anything like that, not that he'd be able to get to them now anyway… The Briarwoods were an outlier in the magical world, keeping to themselves to the point of paranoia, their family manor not on record - he'd checked.
He was almost wondering if Moody was related to the family at this point…
They had no one working in the Ministry, in fact, none of their family members seemed to go anywhere into public work after leaving Hogwarts. They were a remarkably insular family in an already insular pureblood world.
Where other families threw balls and events - the Briarwoods remained aloof.
It was deeply frustrating.
"... Well…" Sirius sighed deeply, patting the table lightly where he'd slammed it, "No use in crying over spilled potion." He did his best to shed his anger, it wouldn't serve him here. He'd work it out in the training room after, blow shit up, his mother's ancient plate collection did make for wonderful shooting practice.
Especially when he could cast a reparo and just do it again, and again, and again.
Pollux and Cygnus were both sitting across from his desk, both had looked distinctly uncomfortable while Sirius had been lost in thought and they breathed visibly easier when Sirius did not waste time in recriminations after his minor explosion of temper.
"Pollux, keep an ear out for them, but drop any more efforts to push them out, it's a waste of galleons at this point." Sirius ordered, tapping his ring twice at the edge of the desk, a reminder to himself to focus.
He couldn't do anything to change the outcome, so his anger was useless and would only continue to exacerbate the situation with the fools in front of him.
Pollux scowled, but nodded shortly to show he'd heard and understood the order, "It will be done as you say," He hesitated for a moment, and Sirius held back on rolling his eyes, waving a hand to tell his maternal grandfather to get on with it, "Would you like me to leave an open line of communication with the Shafiq family? Their niece is arranged to marry the Briarwood spare."
Sirius saw no harm in at least leaving a fishing line in the water, "Fine, but Pollux, no heavy handedness from now on, just let them know we'd like to talk, that's it." He warned, making sure to impress the seriousness of his request. The last thing he needed was for the Shafiq's to have a reason to complain about his family's actions.
There was an alarmingly sophisticated level of opposition beginning to form amongst the families on the Wizengamot, he could see it brewing, and he didn't need to add the Shafiq's to the enemy camp. Their neutrality would work as well for him as them following him, anything but opposition. He needed to tread carefully around the neutrals.
They were practically wed to the status quo, a ridiculous idea, but one he couldn't prod too heavily until he was already in power, and even then, very carefully.
Bagnold was a known enemy, but this, this wasn't just her - it was too well done. The Briarwoods as well, their defenses were up too quick, it could be nothing, but it could also mean collusion. But with who?
Cygnus, who's frailty and follower mindset had left Sirius with no choice but to keep him out of anything important, wet his lips slowly, before speaking up haltingly, "Sirius…Lord Black…I…" He stopped for a moment as both Sirius and Pollux turned their attention to him.
Truly, he was only in the meeting because he'd been with Pollux when Sirius had called Pollux over the floo and it would have been rude to exclude him.
"Is it something important or can it wait, Cygnus?" Sirius asked sharply, not willing to offer much respect to the weak willed puppet of his Mother.
He'd been adrift at sea since her banishment, not doing much of anything now that he lacked someone telling him what to think.
"Malfoy still has enough shares that our combined strength would…" Cygnus trailed off again, his weak chin wobbly as he faltered at Sirius glare.
"We will not allow Lucius Malfoy that level of influence into our doings." Sirius said slowly and pointedly, as if speaking to a toddler that had made a mess, "He'd use anything he'd gain against us in a heartbeat - if he wasn't selling the information to our enemies the entire time…"
Cygnus somehow found the strength to weakly protest, "But…B-but it would give you what you wanted Sirius…"
Even Pollux was giving Cygnus a look now, as Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. His fortune for competent underlings… Damnit Andromeda! You should be here! "Drinking a poisoned rejuvenation potion because it's also good for you, is not a solution, Cygnus!" He would have lambasted the man further, but Kreacher appeared at the door, bowing silently, waiting for permission to speak.
"Yes, Kreacher, what is it?" Sirius asked, forcibly calming his tone, the house elf did not need to pay for his frustration in dealing with lackwits.
"Master, there is a guest begging for your attention at the front entrance." Kreacher grumbled with distaste.
New clothes and a new respectful outlook towards him, did not suddenly change Kreacher's entire personality. Sirius knew immediately that whoever was coming knocking was not a pureblood.
Which left very few people who knew enough about Grimmauld place to arrive at his door. It wasn't impossible, but the wards and the fact the Black's never invited anyone lesser to the place - ensured it was not well known, nor easy to find for the uninitiated.
"Who do they claim to be?" Sirius asked, dread building in his gut, he had a feeling already…
"Remus Lupin, sir." Kreacher said, sniffing, his beady eyes full of judgment, "He is a half-breed, Kreacher can smell it." He warned, which was much more than he would have gotten not that long ago from the surly elf.
"Damn." Sirius said quietly, closing his eyes.
"Let him in."
He so didn't want to deal with this today…
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Remus shifted on his feet, the front entrance of the Black townhouse was saturated with magic and it had a foreboding feeling to it. Making him feel unwanted.
Or perhaps that was his own feelings coming out, ahead of this reunion. All the regret, self loathing, and grief - tangling with the small starved kernel of hope inside of him. That little nugget that insisted he travel back to England. That he try, to pay for his mistakes. His failures.
That he at least should try to make amends for his absolute dereliction of duty to the Marauders memory, to James and Lily, to Sirius - most of all.
He'd never looked for Sirius trial, never attempted to attend it, never tried to ask him why? Never wondered why he wasn't called as a witness - which he now knew was because there was no trial. He'd been lost in his grief. Losing James and Lily… Then losing Peter and learning he'd also lost Sirius - in a different manner, in a way that tore out his heart and ground it to ash. Sirius had betrayed them.
Or so he'd thought. What a fool he'd been. How could he not have done at least something to verify the truth.
Remus had left England and hadn't looked back for even one second - he ran, abandoning what was left of his pack. Harry would be better left to someone who wasn't such a complete failure he'd thought. Someone that hadn't buried all his family, his friends. Because what was Azkaban other than a different sized tomb?
Even when hating Sirius, Remus had mourned him the same. Had blamed himself for not spotting any signs of him turning on them, for not doing enough to keep him loyal.
Remus could barely remember the last two years, he'd barely allowed himself to think, finding temporary hard labor work - and working until he dropped from exhaustion - so he could avoid thinking, avoid dreaming, avoid remembering.
And then, the news. Remus barely paid attention to magical news, earning most of his pay in the muggle world, traveling from place to place, earning his keep, but never staying long enough to get attached to anyone. To risk them during his transformations. To risk being found out.
To risk pausing enough that he'd have time to think or feel.
But the news had been too big and it had rippled across the magical world and it had been all over the papers - even in Croatia, where he'd been at the time. It had ripped the heart Remus wasn't sure he'd even still had - in twain, yet again.
Because he'd failed more than he could have ever imagined. Padfoot was innocent. He hadn't done it. Of course he hadn't! How could Remus have ever believed it? Sirius and James were inseparable, how could he have been so foolish, so stupid as to believe it.
It had never made any sense! Why had he accepted it!?
Remus had let James and Lily die. And then he'd let Sirius rot in Azkaban. Had venerated Peter's memory - the traitor. He could feel hatred burning in his veins at the thought of him, the one behind all their suffering… Him, he could kill and not even lose a minute of sleep for..
He hadn't thought he could be a bigger failure. And now, the news had proved him wrong. He'd failed Sirius. He imagined James, wherever his soul rested, hated him now, he'd betrayed everything the Marauders stood for. The brotherhood. He'd abandoned pack.
But… That small kernel of hope. It drew Remus here. He had to try. Had to make amends. Had to see for himself that Sirius was okay. Even if he hated him. Even if he wanted Remus dead.
Is he going to let me in? He thought, shifting his feet again, the elf had been gone some time now, after sneering at him and muttering under his breath for Remus to not defecate on the steps.
Charming fellow… Remus remembered Sirius stories of the Black townhouse elf, he'd never quite believed them, and he wondered now how Sirius must feel having to live with him. To be back here… The place of his nightmares.
And there I go on a tangent in my mind again. He nervously straightened his clean but well worn robes, feeling his apprehension grow the longer he was left waiting. Was Sirius planning to deny him entry? Refuse to see him?
He certainly had the right, Remus would not begrudge him for turning him away.
Before he could make up his mind on knocking again, the door swung open on its own. The elf standing inside the hallway gave him a gimlet stare as he waved his hand for Remus to enter.
Here goes nothing… Remus thought, taking a deep breath, before he entered into the home of the Blacks.
He half expected he'd never leave it.
He was okay with that.
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Sirius kept his face blank as Remus Lupin was led into his office. He'd dismissed Cygnus and Pollux, the last thing he wanted was an audience for this. He had half of a plan in place, but he'd probably never be fully ready for this conversation.
Kreacher gave a last bow in his direction, before popping away. Leaving the two Marauders alone in the office, both studying each other in silence.
Sirius had aged in Azkaban, there was no doubt about it, but he had nothing on Remus, who looked like he'd aged a decade in the last two plus years. His robes were more threadbare than usual, hinting that the man wasn't even bothering to put his sewing skills to test, let alone the more magical means to repair clothing. He'd just given up on trying, if Sirius was to hazard a guess.
Depression… Well, he, if anyone, had a reason for it.
Sirius silently gestured to an armchair in the corner of the room, situated there for more intimate conversations, a small nook with comfortable chairs and small tables to keep your alcohol on. A humidor for cigars built into the table and an ancient wizarding chess platform off to the side, the pieces themselves older than anyone now alive.
According to Arcturus, no one in the family ever used it anymore, the pieces so old and curmudgeonly that they played the same game over and over again and refused direction from snot nosed brats.
Sirius had already placed a bottle of Ogden's finest on the table when Kreacher had gone to fetch Remus. (Heh, fetch.)
Once they got over this awkwardness and loathing, Sirius would have to remember that one and make Kreacher play fetch with Remus at some point.
Once Remus was seated, he himself sunk down heavily in the chair opposite his, reaching over and opening the bottle of fire whiskey, swigging some straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn going down his throat - there was no need to keep his lordly persona with Remus. He wiped his mouth and then he put his elbows on his knees, fire whiskey bottle dangling from his fingers as he finally broke the silence, "Bit late, aren't you, Moony?" He drawled sarcastically, before taking another deep swig of the bottle.
He purposely avoided indulging too much most days, filling the gaping hole inside him with alcohol was just a bad idea in general. But this kind of meeting was really something he needed to be drunk for. It also warmed him up, which helped beat the chill that never really left his bones.
Azkaban had done a number on him, no matter what treatment he received - there would likely always be some effect left.
Remus' eyes were suspiciously shiny as he bowed his head, speaking softly, "Very late, I failed you, I believed you were the one that betrayed James and Lily, I can never make amends for that, for failing to stand by a brother, but I'm here anyway, late as it is." His hand was shaking as it scratched at a stubbled cheek, "We all failed you, but I, I should have known better!"
He almost howled out the last part, wolf and human in perfect agreement for one of the few times Sirius had ever seen. As far as he could remember anyway.
Sirius grimaced, the plain honesty in that just pissed him off, he wanted to be angrier, to rip into his old friend, but it was hard to truly feel it. He didn't hold as much against Remus as he did the people like Dumbledore - who could have gotten him a trial, should have gotten him a trial. But he also wasn't about to count on a guy who's reaction to anything was to either bury his head in sand or run away. Not truly count on him, not without assurances.
"I believed it was you who was the traitor, so we're even there." Sirius said with a toothy grin, but it was no smile, far from it, "It did hurt just a tad to be dragged off to Azkaban though,"He said with casualness he didn't feel, "Always wondering, is today the day my friend is coming to see me? To ask for my trial? To ask me why? Anything?"
Sirius might already be primed to let Remus back in his life, but he wasn't going to make it easy. For all that, he didn't blame him too harshly either, because they'd all been idiots. They should have just sat down together with cups of Veritaserum dosed water the moment Dumbledore had warned them of a spy and taken care of any suspicions.
They'd been young and dumb and in a war. He couldn't fault Remus for not being perfect. Just for running after, instead of standing by his mate. He was still going to make the git feel it before he even thought to forgive him though…
Remus sunk deeper into his chair, ducking his head, the lines on his face seemingly deepening as he sunk into himself, regret practically wafting off him, "There's nothing I can say to make it better." He said hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Padfoot, I'm so so sorry I wasn't there." He cried out.
"Padfoot, eh?" Sirius barked, a short nasty laugh following, "Like old times?" He asked, accusingly. He leaned forward, teeth bared, "You see Remus, I don't remember old times that well, something to do with the Dementor outside my cell sucking every single damn memory of that time out of my head in a slow neverending agony, as my body froze to death inch by inch as the dark magic seeped into the very bones of Azkaban pressed in, devouring everything that was me."
Sirius felt slightly detached as he watched tears running out of Remus' eyes as the werewolf cut himself in anger and sorrow, so hard was he pressing his fingernails into his thighs as he listened with horror at his story.
As with everything else lately, this was not a wholly emotional tirade from Sirius. He was mad at Remus, but also… He couldn't remember much of Hogwarts, and no one would sniff that out better than Remus, he wasn't the whole soul of the old Sirius Black, but with this… This excuse… Remus Lupin would not find it odd that Sirius Black had some holes in his knowledge.
He'd known he'd return one day. He couldn't miss the news, he would come, for one reason or another.
It felt so disingenuous to have crafted part of his response to Remus showing up. But he couldn't afford a loose variable like an old best friend. Especially one so close to Dumbledore.
For good reason. Sirius did not, like perhaps so many in a fandom once had, blame Remus for all of his shortcomings. Well, not too much… He was still a coward in some ways. But Remus had been allowed to enter Hogwarts thanks to Albus Dumbledore, to get a life, more than most Werewolves could dream of, so no, he didn't blame him for being loyal.
He himself didn't really see himself as a parent figure for Harry, so he could hardly blame the werewolf for running away from that responsibility. Although once he was at Hogwarts, that's where the cowardice struck and made him useless once again.
His loyalty to Dumbledore even further entrenched by then, his help to Harry, minimal.
But Sirius couldn't afford that loyalty, not for the world he envisioned. So, he needed this meeting to go as he wanted it to, or he needed to cut the wolf loose. Therefore he'd crafted his responses in advance, even utilizing Narcissa as a critical outside perspective. Well, some of them, he couldn't predict all of Remus actions or words, so he was improvising slightly too.
It didn't make him a good man, but it was necessary, he couldn't let Remus in and have him cut and run when it got too hard, not ever again. And with this, Remus could join him again, could see Harry, could have a life. All it would cost him was betraying the man who gave him a life to begin with.
Sirius didn't really see it as a betrayal this time, Dumbledore had betrayed the Marauders first.
"I can't even imagine, I deserved to be in there instead of you." Remus moaned, looking shattered. Knowing more than most about Dementors, he was likely imagining horrors even beyond what Sirius had described so far.
At least he wasn't apologizing again, Sirius detested them, empty words, meaningless. So easy to discard the moment things changed. The likes of Dumbledore loved apologies, never doing anything to change the outcome, just spouting words. No different than modern day politicians and their sayings of thoughts and prayers - instead of actual actions.
Words meant nothing without action to back them up. Too many people failed to realize it.
Sirius scoffed, drawing his old friend's wet eyes to his, "No one deserves that place, it needs to be destroyed." He said bluntly, watching for a reaction.
Out of all of them, Remus had been the most hesitant for any truly unlawful actions.
What little Sirius remembered from school showed that he himself had not been far off from becoming something much worse.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"I heard you were kissed. Read about it." Remus said quietly, his whole body tense, the words coming out after a few moments where they just sat in tense silence, watching each other. "If anyone knows that Azkaban needs destruction it's you, Sirius. If I can help, I will."
Sirius was still getting good press from his little statement at the end of his trial, surviving a Dementors kiss and claiming magic itself chose to protect him? A genius stroke that was still paying dividends.
"You can't afford to help me, you don't have the protection I do, you'd be destroyed immediately without anyone in your corner if you were found to be even thinking about destroying Azkaban. Sirius said with derision, but his sharp eyes watched the werewolf.
Remus met his eyes, he showed Sirius, without any compunction - the pain and sorrow in them, "I've abandoned my friends before, I won't again. Even if it kills me." It was final, and utterly seriously said.
Sirius could almost believe it. "Nice sentiment, but Dumbledore would never allow for any push against the status quo, and your loyalty is there, no?" He prodded, taking another messy swig of fire whiskey.
Remus looked pained, even as the wrinkles on his face seemed to clear slightly the longer Sirius talked to him, the longer he went without kicking him out. "Dumbledore helped me, that is true, I owe him a lot." Remus admitted, before turning hard yet warm eyes on Sirius, a tremulous smile on his worn face, "But I won't make the mistake of not choosing my friend, my brother, not ever again."
Sirius scoffed at the heartfelt declaration, but inwardly he felt it, felt kinship reignited, like a part of him that was missing was slotted back in. He reached over, and handed Remus the fire whiskey as a gesture, the werewolf clutching it like a lifeline, lip wobbling slightly as his emotions threatened to take over.
"I can't afford to trust like that. Not anymore, I can't even remember half the bloody shite we used to do, I remember us being friends, if we can manage that..." Sirius warned looking away from his friend, tacitly giving a small measure of forgiveness with one hand, as he laid down conditions with the other.
"I'll do anything, Padfoot, I have to make it up to you, to Lily and James, to little Harry. I have to repay my failures." Remus begged, holding the bottle of fire whiskey with hopeful desperation.
"An unbreakable vow, Remus, of no betrayal, it's the only thing I can trust right now." Sirius warned, wondering if he was laying it out too soon in the conversation.
He hadn't really thought Remus would be back for months yet, he hadn't planned his whole response out, had only begun to troubleshoot different avenues of coercion with Narcissa lately.
Without even the slightest hesitation, Remus replied immediately, "I'll do it."
His eyes were burning with determination, not a slightest hint of hesitation in him.
The wolf had not completely broken down yet, not like he would over a decade still to go - to the mild mannered coward who couldn't even talk to Harry, it seemed Remus could still surprise him.
Sirius couldn't hide a pleased smile as he called for Kreacher, he'd need to get someone over here as a binder, but all in all.
He'd gotten exactly what he wanted out of this meeting.
An old friend, and someone he could work with that he could trust, magic itself ensuring he wouldn't betray Sirius. He wouldn't run away this time.
He still held complicated feelings on the matter, part of him loved the idiot, part of him hated him, on some level he also understood him, making it all a jumble of emotions he didn't want to deal with, so he showed it in the back and concentrated on managing his old friend.
It would not be an easy road ahead - but Remus would make the perfect devil's advocate for him, and would literally be the angel on his shoulder ensuring Sirius didn't take a step too far, as well.
It was nice when things worked out.
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Sirius woke up to a thunderous noise, his head pounding, his mouth dry as the desert, as he tried to get out of bed to deal with whatever beast was bothering him so early. The action failed as he tumbled to the floor out of the armchair he had fallen asleep in, not his bed.
Why wasn't he in his bed?
"Ow." He muttered, as he blinked blearily, looking up at an unimpressed Narcissa, wand in hand, the originator of his pain.
"I can see your knickers from down here." Sirius said cheekily, albeit more weakly than his usual fare, refusing to completely back down from being caught having gone on a bender.
Also nice, witches had access to the nicest things…
Narcissa didn't move an inch, looking down at him with a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised and an unimpressed look on her face, "I'm not that kind of cousin, cousin." She said dryly, tapping her wand her hip.
Showed what she knew, almost all purebloods were exactly that kind of cousin.
"A shame, Lucius won the lottery getting both a Black and getting you, Cissy." Sirius muttered, laying his head back on the floor, he wasn't ready to get up yet, not until the Nundu's stopped stampeding across his skull.
Narcissa harrumphed, but she sounded pleased. Too pleased. Sirius opened an eye, peering up at her suspiciously, "What's got you so pleased this early, Cissy?" He asked, for the first time not glancing under her dress, actually fully focused on her face.
Narcissa smiled sweetly, "Well, as we are speaking of my Lucius, he'll be arriving for your meeting soon, as scheduled." She said pleasantly. Her grin was a little sharper than usual too.
The bitch was actually upset he'd forgotten the particulars of the schedule she'd drawn up, wasn't she?
Sirius groaned as forced himself into a seated position, grasping his head with one hand, "That's not until lunchtime… I think?" He protested, wincing as his own loud tone reverberated in his head.
"It's almost lunch time, Lord Black. Your… revel must have distracted you from such things as timekeeping and your schedule." Narcissa pointed out, lips twitching slightly, as she took in Sirius' state. His crumpled robes and bloodshot eyes. "I'm sure you'll give a great impression." She mocked lightly.
Sirius looked over at the armchairs, spotting almost a dozen bottles of different liquors, and no Remus. "What happened?" He asked, grasping the armchair for leverage to force himself into a standing position, glad that he managed it without upchucking.
If he did that in front of Cissy, he might have to actually consider killing himself, or everything.
"Your… Guest, showed more sense than you, according to Kreacher he passed out in a guest room around 4 am, while you continued for hours still on your own." Narcissa stated clinically, looking over the bottles, "I'm surprised you didn't need medical attention with that amount of alcohol." She pursed her lips slightly, shaking her head, "Should I consider getting you an attendant, my lord? Someone to look after you?" She teased, albeit in her own way.
Sirius didn't find it very funny, so obviously she wasn't very good at it yet.
Sirius groaned again, "How long do I have until your husband darkens my hall, Cissy?" He asked, voice raspy. He remembered… Singing? That can't be right. He doesn't sing.
Narcissa smirked, "Oh, about half an hour, my lord." She looked very smug about it too.
Fucking hell… "Kreacher!" Sirius called out, wincing as his elf popped into the room. Before he would hear any recrimination from his servant, he fired away some orders, "Clean up this mess, prepare my third fanciest robes, because I'm not bringing out the best for that peacock!" He said with a look at an amused Narcissa, "And get me some toast and a glass of orange juice in the bathroom, I need a shower and a shave immediately."
Kreacher nodded his tiny head, ears flopping about, "Yes master, Kreacher will clean up after master." The elf said, giving him a reproachful look.
"You don't say anything." Sirius warned Narcissa, a finger pointing at her accusingly, as he tried to regain some dignity from being found black out drunk.
Narcissa's eyes glittered with repressed mirth as she regally nodded her head, sweeping out of the room before Sirius. He grimaced, no doubt Lucius would hear all about it before the meeting.
Why in Merlin's name had he gotten that drunk?
Must be Remus' fault.
He certainly wouldn't have done it on his own.
That's it, Remus was just a bad influence on him. Just like their school days.
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Sirius was ready in record time, even managing to down a pain reliever potion with his breakfast/lunch, and most importantly, he kept it all down.
His office was cleaned up and Sirius was sitting at his desk, mostly hale and ready for this meeting, Narcissa escorting her husband through the town house. Kreacher followed them to ensure there were no little spells slipped through.
He doubted the Malfoy's would be that crass though, Narcissa would be well aware of the dangers of the wards here.
Sirius held those wards tightly, he didn't expect treachery from the Malfoy's, they were the kind to only do so in the moment most advantageous to them, and this wasn't it. This was Lucius sounding Sirius out, to see if they could come to an understanding of sorts.
Sirius wouldn't hold his breath. The most they might agree to was using each other for a moment.
… Not that way!
He liked Narcissa well enough. But she was family, Lucius wasn't. And he only marginally trusted her because family magic was keeping her from just blurting out any family secrets to Lucius. He did not trust Lucius one bit, and he very much doubted he'd ever like him.
He was well aware of the kind of scum he was. Death Eater. Murderer and worse. He could claim aristocracy all he wanted, he was a thug in a fancy robe beneath it all, beneath the sophisticated layers.
Soon enough the wait was over, Lucius Malfoy appearing in his doorway, Narcissa stepping back with just a light last touch on his shoulder, and a look at Sirius that he couldn't quite decipher.
Perhaps it was a please don't kill each other look? Which was ridiculous. Lucius couldn't kill him in his own home.
"Lord Black." Lucius Malfoy said coldly, with a - barely above rude - nod of his head, as he strode into his office, his pimp cane in hand, like Sirius, Lucius was pointedly not wearing his best.
It was going to be that kind of meeting. Neither of the two of them were the kind to give an inch, unless they had to, and neither of them liked the other very much. Or at all to be frank. Circumstances made for strange bedfellows…
And he really needed to stop making euphemisms about himself and Lucy in bed, or he really was going to vomit and he'd never survive the embarrassment, Sirius thought to himself. Letting none of it show on his face as he studied his cousin's husband.
Sirius was fairly certain Lucius would like to meet him in a dark alleyway someday just as much as Sirius would love the same opportunity. Decide things with their wands instead of this polite facade.
Although sometime in the future obviously, Sirius didn't make it a habit to fight unwinnable fights after all, and unfortunately, his time in Azkaban and his fragmented memory - did not make him a match for Lucius Malfoy in a duel, not yet.
"Lord Malfoy." Sirius acknowledged the dangerous man, gesturing for the seat in front of his desk, not bothering to bow his head, this was his seat of power, and his family was leagues above Malfoy anyway.
As Arcturus was fond of muttering when he thought Sirius couldn't hear it, they were upjumped Frenchmen. Only useful for their money and connections.
Unfortunately, that made them a lot more useful than most of the Blacks, in Sirius's opinion. Narcissa was the most useful of them all, and she had obvious divided loyalties, for all that she said she was loyal to him.
Sirius knew love well enough to not believe that. If the option was Draco or the Black family, Narcissa would slit his throat with a smile, never looking back. It's the main reason he dealt with her inside his seat of power. And why he was dealing with Lucius at all instead of just burning any connection.
Family. What can you do? Plotting their murder is too complicated, getting their assistance leads to nothing but plotting their murder. It was a vicious circle.
"My congratulations on your decisive handling of your trial and the aftermath, Lord Black." Lucius said, sitting down, cold eyes meeting Sirius's own. Assessing him, looking for any weakness.
"Thank you, I believe I owe you a small amount of thanks as well, Lord Malfoy, for attempting to stand up for me during said trial." Sirius said politely. Assessing him in turn, looking for a chink in the armor, a way to slither in and out-slytherin the snake.
Lucius smiled, but there was no mirth to be found in it, "They overstepped, I simply protected all of our kith and kins interests." He demurred.
Sirius was well aware of who was considered part of that interest. He smiled back equally as chilly, "Your son, Draco, I believe? He is well? Narcissa does mention him quite often." He asked, for politeness sake, he certainly didn't care much about the brat.
Not more than for ensuring he was never a threat to the little shits life, to ensure Narcissa didn't go after him, he needed her at least somewhat on his side.
But this was a dance between pureblood lords that simply had to happen before any business could be discussed. Tradition. They were all so endlessly trapped and bound in it - and so was Sirius, for now.
"He is well." Lucius said, with a proud tilt of his head, his whole posture radiating it. "And you, Lord Black? I trust your family has taken well to your return?"
Sirius smiled, tapping his ring on his desk twice, "It's been going as smoothly as such a reunion can go, lord Malfoy."
Malfoy was no doubt aware of his mother's disappearance, even if Narcissa was bound to not talk. He was too intelligent not to have sussed it out, if not the details, then the general matter.
And on it continued, small talk, recent sporting events, ministry gossip, twenty minutes of pointless dross just to be able to speak freely. A hold over from ancient times when such talk was necessary to see if anyone was dying from poison or a curse before the meeting began in earnest. All in all, Sirius was lucky, it used to go on for hours.
Trust magicals to invent pointless time wasting small talk to avoid wasting time in the meeting itself - in case half its participants dropped dead in the middle. One of those pointless exercises they'd kept even though it was no longer necessary. They could have just… Stopped murdering each other during meetings, but that apparently was too much to ask for.
Magic must remove common sense in people. He thought idly, as he continued inane small talk with the Death Eater. Both of them were bored out of their minds. But this was the business of Lords meeting outside the Ministry, where such pretenses could be dropped for efficiency. Not that they always were…
Finally, Sirius felt politeness had run its course, even Lucius beginning to look something other than prideful and cold.
"Your wife seems to think we could work together, Lord Malfoy. I have my misgivings, but I have an open mind." Sirius said slowly, gauging the other man's reaction.
Lucius simply raised an eyebrow, eerily reminiscent of Narcissa, before speaking. "That would depend entirely on what exactly you are setting out to do, Lord Black."
This fucker… Sirius knew that he knew what Sirius was after. But he wanted it from Sirius' mouth in case he'd reveal something he didn't know. "The Ministry. I want it, Lucius." He said succinctly, dropping the titles. Refusing to expand too deeply on what he wanted.
There, try and read something more into that you snob! Sirius thought viciously, not at all happy to even have this meeting, but knowing he needed to at least have a somewhat cordial relationship to keep Narcissa useful.
Lucius smiled sardonically, "So nothing much then, Lord Black." He murmured, stroking his pimp cane.
Sirius was well aware his wand was inside the cane, and he kept a tight leash on the wards in case the man was utterly foolish. He doubted it, but he wouldn't take risks, not with a Death Eater.
"I am not necessarily opposed to such an idea." Lucius said thoughtfully, his face still impassive and unemotional as he appeared to think it over, "If we had some common goals…"
Sirius smiled dangerously, "And what goals would those be? Because certain things will receive a response, Lucius…"
Lucius sighed, patting the snake motif head of his cane, "Not as onerous as you no doubt have imagined, Lord Black." He said in a dismissive tone, "You know as well as I do that a certain concession to our way of life is necessary for anyone to become the Minister. If you are against this, then I can not in good conscience assist you."
Sirius knew exactly what he meant by that. The privilege and loopholes meant to ensure that the Lords of the ancient families and the lesser purebloods - all got an easier ride when it came to everything.
That was exactly what Sirius was running to destroy. Not that he could ever publicly say so or he'd doom his attempt. "I'm willing to negotiate at some level, but all of the excesses allowed by the previous administration will not be allowed." He said reluctantly, and before Lucius could even try a rebuttal he spread his hands out, indicating himself, "As seen in my case, the law is not fully working as it should even in the cases of those of the highest standing."
He'd use that excuse and run with it, negotiate some kind of deal he could live with. For now.
Lucius paused momentarily, allowing a small agreeing nod, "Negotiation then," He said, "Tell me, what do you have in mind?"
Sirius wished he didn't have a hangover right now, this was going to be rough. At least it wasn't Narcissa, Lucius might be tough, but Narcissa was vicious.
"Let's start with the law as it pertains to this situation, considering my own mockery of a trial." He began.
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Sirius had never been happier to see a man leave than he was to see Lucius Malfoy step out of Grimmauld place. The man missed his calling as a snake oil salesman.
"Was that Lucius Malfoy?" A hesitant voice asked, coming up from behind him.
Sirius sighed, glancing back at Remus with a grimace on his face, "The one and only… Merlin, I think I preferred it when he threw Avadas whenever we'd run into each other." He joked, not entirely dishonestly either.
Killing each other was certainly easier than talking about laws and traditions and the more distasteful parts of pureblood society.
Remus silently offered Sirius his cup of hot chocolate, making Sirius perk up slightly, a twist of his lip coming unbidden, "Everything's better with chocolate, right, Moony?" He said lightly, in no headspace to have any serious conversation after the last few hours.
Remus smiled softly, "Yeah, it definitely is." He said, no judgment on his face and no questions on what he was doing with Lucius Malfoy. Their own detente was too fresh.
Sirius felt his spirit lighten slightly, no doubt there would be questions later at some point anyway, but this, this was nice. He'd lacked just the support of someone fully on his side. His family didn't really count. They were too old, racist and set in their ways to fully agree with Sirius. They just followed because they were bred to follow the lord.
Or in Arcturus' case, because he had no other option.
He took a sip of the hot chocolate, and then grimaced, "Remus… Did Kreacher make this for you?" He asked, a sliver of amusement shining through, even as he tried not to gag.
Remus furrowed his brow, looking from the cup to Sirius face, confused, "Yes…?" He said slowly.
"That explains it then." Sirius said, a wave of his wand banishing the crime of nature in a cup. "I haven't ordered him to treat you like a member of the family yet." I got drunk instead… That could have ended up a lot worse…
Remus followed him down the hallway, "Sirius? What was in that cuppa? Sirius… Padfoot!?"
Sirius whistled innocently as he continued on his way, he'd have to call Kreacher when he was alone and make sure the elf didn't do it again. How did he even manage to make a cup of hot chocolate taste like silver anyway?
He was a dangerous little bugger. Destroying the locket was probably the smartest thing Sirius had done since arriving here.
Being killed by a house elf would be too embarrassing.
No pureblood would take them seriously ever again.
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"Cornelius Fudge has announced his candidacy, I smell Bagnold all over it, Fudge wouldn't dare run against you in this climate without her backing." Arcturus said, folding the Daily Prophet up, a sliver of distaste in his voice.
Bagnold had gone from sometimes ally to absolutely hated in the old man's mind after the hit job of a trial concluded.
Sirius was nice enough to not remind the old man he'd supported Bagnold in that farce until his innocence was proven.
"I want to say he's not a threat, because he's a ridiculous little goblin of a man, but unfortunately I know better." Sirius said, making a face as he slowly worked his way through breakfast. The amount of potions he was still taking sometimes made it all a chore.
He'd gotten hell from his healer for missing one day when he'd been blackout drunk.
Not to mention the tirade he'd gotten when he'd stupidly admitted why he'd missed his doses.
He needed to remember he was a politician now, he should stop telling the truth so much.
"Fudge is a bottom feeder." Arcturus agreed with a grunt, "But as a counterweight to your progressive outlook," He said, with visible distaste on his face, as didn't agree with most of what Sirius wanted. "He's the perfect candidate for the view of keeping it as it is - something which has a large following…"
And wasn't that the perfect description of the wizarding world… Sirius thought with disgust.
"If that's a hint, grandfather, then no, I'm still not changing anything." Sirius pointed out dryly, "My campaign will be somewhat unorthodox that is true, but I have Dumbledore, Crouch Sr and others like them with a lot of backing in my corner - it should even it out."
Dumbledore alone would bring Sirius at least thirty percent of the public vote just because. Not as helpful in the Wizengamot, as his faction was likely to vote his way anyway.
"You need to announce it soon. You can't let Fudge and Bagnold steal the march." Arcturus said grumpily, the man getting grouchier for everyday now, Sirius plans becoming clearer to the old man the more blocks that were put in place for the foundation of it
Their arguments about it were useful for Sirius as practice, as the things Arcturus had an issue with and argued against - was exactly what other blood obsessed purebloods would argue against.
"I'll set something up with Narcissa." Sirius agreed, frowning minutely, it was unfortunate that his opponent declared first, but it was his own fault for delaying so long because of his attempts to gain control over the prophet.
Speaking off… "I need you to do something for me." He said, putting aside the empty potions vials, glaring at the solitary one left, deciding it could wait until he was finished, "I need you to go sit on Barnabas Cuffe for me."
Arcturus glared balefully at him, "I'm not an errand boy, send Pollux or Cygnus." He demanded, sending a dark sneer at the paper he'd deposited on the table.
Barnabas Cuffe was the editor of the Daily Prophet, Sirius could not get majority control, but he still held the most sizable single share. "I need you, Pollux and Cygnus are both blunt objects and in the second case, a brittle one. They won't be able to ride herd on the Prophet for me." Sirius explained bluntly.
Narcissa and Cassiopeia were both more useful in what they were already doing. And unfortunately to most, witches weren't as threatening as old lords.
A ridiculous notion, all the scariest people he knew were witches. Lily had scared him more than Voldemort at times. Voldemort would just torture or kill you. Lily would go for the jubblies. Sirius had never even heard of a castration hex until her.
Arcturus glared at him bitterly, a gnarled hand slapping the table in utter frustration, because he knew Sirius was right. "Cuffe is an ignoramus and holds no respect for anything outside of a galleon. Without majority control there's only so much I can do." He pointed out acerbically.
Sirius nodded, well aware of it, he sliced up his black pudding, taking a slow bite as he stared down his irate paternal grandfather.
Finally when he was done chewing, and letting Arcturus steam, he answered, "You're not there to control him, you're there to steer him, there's a difference. Manage the stories, we can't control it all, but we can direct them, whether through money, or threats of the Black family or repercussions from a new Minister if he moves too obviously against us."
"Fudge and Bagnold will make the same threat." Arcturus said, resigned to his new task, but not going down easily.
Sirius shrugged, "So what? Manage him, grandfather, keep it equal at the very least. Between Fudge and myself, if we're equal in press - I'll still come out on top." Sirius could definitely outcharm that bumbling buffoon when it came to the general populace.
Arcturus muttered something under his breath, but under Sirius stern gaze, he finally nodded his head, looking pained, "Fine, I'll do as you ask, I suppose I am the most suited to deal with this matter delicately."
Sirius would allow the man his delusions if it got the job done. Other than Narcissa, there wasn't a delicate bone in the family. Arcturus wasn't quite a bull in a china shop level, but he wasn't that far off sometimes. His old age and ailments have made him crankier, leaving him to forego some of the more tedious social constructs.
If he couldn't control the Prophet, then at the very least he needed to manage to make them neutral, or as neutral as anything in the magical world could be. With neither him nor his enemies with a clear majority, they'd make the editor dance between them.
Barnabas Cuffe's job was about to become a lot more difficult. Sirius would almost pity him.
If he wasn't in charge of a muck rack of a paper anyway - that wouldn't qualify for the news part of a newspaper anywhere else in the world.
He needed to institute some media laws at some point, they were just ridiculously under regulated. It was good for now that they only answered to the almighty galleon, but not so good for once Sirius was done reforming and giving the reins over.
Before they could move on to another item on the agenda, Kreacher popped into the room, an envelope on a silver platter for him.
Rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of the delivery - although likely something beaten into the elf's head since he was born - Sirius sent every detection spell he knew at the envelope, and only after it was all clear, did he take it. It paid to be very careful nowadays. The wards should stop anything iffy from coming through, but it didn't hurt to double-check.
"Expensive velium for a simple envelope… Someone's trying to get your attention." Arcturus noted, eying the envelope as Sirius opened it, taking out the no less expensive letter inside, the sender had even gone to the trouble to artfully decorate the borders of the letter. And it reeked of perfume to boot.
So it begins… He thought, grimacing, handing the letter off to his grandfather after giving it a quick read.
Sirius had known this would happen. And to think, he hadn't even announced his intentions yet, that would surely worsen the situation.
Arcturus snorted in amusement, having finished the letter. "Are you going to reply?" He asked, chortling to himself.
Sirius sent him a disgusted look, "No! What's wrong with them, a betrothal contract is one thing, however crass to send it without prior notice - but to add a love letter from a girl half my age…" Sirius would not ally with these kinds of people.
He hoped to god the parents had written the letter sight unseen from the girl, and that this wasn't the kind of thing young pureblood girls actually did nowadays. She was too young for him, and for that, and for anything to do with this at all!
The magical world was in desperate need for reform. He didn't care if it was traditional, it was wrong.
The sooner he tore it down, the better.
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Several days later found Sirius attending a ball at Bones manor, his goal set for the night, as he had leveraged his relevance to be the most valued guest of the party.
He had an ulterior motive to be here of course, one that would no doubt end up irking the good Amelia Bones in the end, so he ensured he was the perfect guest until his moment to shine.
Unlike most pureblood events, Amelia Bones held hers out of necessity more than any real wish to hold one - so it was much more low key and intimate then the usual extravagant balls that purebloods favored.
The food was exquisite of course, but this was definitely an event meant for dancing and socializing more than politicizing. Amelia's distaste for trading favors was well known.
Sirius had taken advantage to charm as many people as he could, as Amelia watched him like a hawk from a distance, obviously not trusting his intentions.
She was a scarily good copper really.
Sirius had just taken a break from a gathering of minor purebloods who'd been fairly easy to talk to for once, more interested in dueling and Quidditch than anything to do with the Ministry. He'd availed himself of some truly amazing aperitifs from the buffet style tables at the edges of the large banquet hall the ball was held in - when he was waylaid by a dainty hand stopping him in his tracks.
"The infamous Lord Black, all by his lonesome, can I perhaps steal a moment of your time?" The woman purred, as Sirius found his gaze drawn from her slender olive toned arm, to a gorgeous woman in a backless black evening gown that barely held her bountiful curvy body in, her exotic mediterranean beauty known across Britain.
As much desired as she was feared.
"Mrs Zabini." Sirius said smoothly, bending down to grasp her hand, kissing it softly, getting a throaty appreciative hum in return. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Isabella Zabini smiled, parting perfect full lips as she spoke with a slight accent, "It's miss Zabini now I'm afraid, my Lord." Her gaze was almost hypnotic as she put a certain distinction at the end of her sentence, "You may call me Isabella, a man such as yourself fascinates me so, I simply must get to know you better, my Lord."
Sirius grinned easily, taking her arm in his as they took a circuitous route around the dancing couples of the dance floor, "Then you may of course address me as Sirius, Isabella." He said gallantly. Playing along.
If she was after another rich husband, she was going to be disappointed. Yet, it could be more, after all, anyone seeing the black widow with him would suspect just that and stop paying attention. It's the perfect cover for a clandestine meeting.
Isabella led him into an alcove, turning around to look up at him with doe-like eyes and pouty lips; if Sirius didn't know better, he'd have believed she was as innocent as she appeared. Her hand returned to his chest, lightly stroking it as she breathed in deeply, intentionally, her bust straining with the deep breath and drawing attention, the cut of the dress not leaving much to the imagination.
Sirius felt his mood lessen, how annoying. It truly was as it seemed. Simply an attempt at seduction. "Was there anything in particular you wanted to meet me for, my lady?" He asked, more to get this over with then any interest now that her intentions were known.
For anyone else, he'd be interested to play, he still had time for a beautiful woman after all, but not here and now, and not with her.
Isabella quirked her lips, fingers lightly tapping his chest, "Well yes, everyone knows about your suave ways of course, we witches do read witch weekly, after all." She said with a teasing little laugh, her eyes glinting dangerously. "But what about the man underneath, I confess, I find myself…" She breathed in deeply again, meeting his eyes, "Fascinated…"
Before Sirius could answer and politely let the dangerous woman down, they were interrupted by the host. Amelia Bones herself entering their alcove, a sardonic smile on her lips, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said drolly.
Sirius felt a sense of relief at the timely interruption, he wouldn't need to risk making the woman an enemy by turning her down. Her beauty was extraordinary, but sleeping with a black widow… Had consequences that merited caution. "Not at all, Amelia," He said easily, giving her a thankful smile, "Isabella and I were just getting to know each other."
Isabella smoothed out her expression and smiled pleasantly enough at their host, if you ignored her stormy eyes, "Thank you for inviting me, Lady Bones, I must admit I've been… Pleasantly surprised at the quality of your guests." Her eyes slid to Sirius, a pleased smile appearing on her face as she noticed him watching her.
"It's a surprise to me as well, Lady Zabini, as I don't remember inviting you." Amelia said dryly, ignoring the woman after that to focus on Sirius. "What are you up to, Black?" She asked bluntly, eyes narrowed.
Isabella made her excuses, shrinking back slightly from the serious expression of the head of the DMLE. Sirius watched her go with enjoyment. Just because it would be mad to actually touch her, didn't mean she painted a bleak picture walking away.
"Oh, just enjoying the party." Sirius said with a wink in Amelia's direction.
"I wasn't born yesterday, Black." Amelia pointed out, crossing her arms and raising an imperious eyebrow, waiting for a better explanation.
"Maybe I was just picking up a date." Sirius joked, nodding his head to the Lady Zabini who was making for the exit, hands clasped around the elbow of an older gentleman that she'd likely seduced to get into the party.
All to get at him, because he's rarely been seen in public. What a precocious man-eater she was.
And interesting that she'd known he'd be here… Simple guesswork, or more? He'd have to look into it.
Amelia scoffed, not changing her posture one bit, "You are not foolish enough to sink into that woman's claws."
"Maybe not, but what a way to go." Sirius winked at her again, laughing at her serious expression. "Oh, lighten up, Amelia, it's a party!"
"Yes. It's my party in fact. Which means I don't want any unknown factor messing it up and giving me more of a headache than organizing this waste of time already was." She said with a hint of bite to her tone.
Sirius hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, it seemed Amelia Bones the head of the DMLE for some reason thought he was up to no good.
Like he said… She's one hell of a copper. Hopefully she won't be too mad at him. She'll understand… After she's calmed down. Probably.
He'd ask Moody to do him a solid and talk her down. He owed him anyway. And he's used to losing body parts.
"I have a solution to this conundrum." He said dramatically, sliding his wand out of his sleeve, winking at the frowning Amelia who already managed to match him, her own wand in her hand, although slightly pointed away from him, so far.
Sirius cast a non verbal sonorus on himself, stepping out of the alcove. Amelia following him with an expression of a woman that's contemplating just stunning him, and wondering if it was worth the parchment work.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what a party we have on our hands tonight! A splendid location and terrific food and dancing, Lady Bones has truly outdone herself." Sirius said cheerfully, drawing a light applause from partygoers as they turned their attention to him.
Several guests looked hungry as they noticed it was him. Sirius really needed to find himself someone, or a fake someone at the very least.
"As my good friend Lady Bones deigned to invite me to this splendid ball, I thought it only right that I took this time to speak out on a matter of great importance!" He continued, taking on a more serious tone.
"Our great nation is at a precipice, teetering at the edge of losing our supreme status amongst the many nations of the world, stuck in a rut of incompetence and corruption. It is time for a new voice, one with the ancient history to know what is right, behind them."
Sirius let his small speech settle amongst the crowd of purebloods and ministry officials. His smile grew toothy as he spotted Bagnold in the back, face white and her countenance seething. Her little puppet Fudge next to her looking uneasy, both knowing exactly what was coming.
Sirius had chosen this party partly because they'd be here after all. The second reason was because of Amelia. The perception alone would benefit him, if she didn't kill him.
"I, Lord Sirius Orion Black of the ancient and noble house of Black, Magic's own chosen one, will run for the position of Minister of Magic, and I will once again make this nation the greatest on earth, may Merlin be my witness!"
Now it begins, my time, my rise!
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