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Grimmauld Place, London.

Sirius frowned minutely as he read the paper, before folding it up and tossing it on the table in disgust, looking over at Remus where he sat at the other end of the kitchen table, dressed in a quality robe for once - albeit a comfortable lounge around the house type robe.

Getting rid of all of Remus old clothes was one of the best things he'd ever done for the man really, people might talk all they want about people's personality and that dross - but in reality, well dressed and good looking people got taken more seriously - and were treated better, as a matter of course.

It was just the way of the world. Any world.

"I don't know how they get away with writing this swill… Fudge being described as heroic is an absolute laugh - even if by necessity they had to be extremely vague on what 'heroics' he's supposedly done." Sirius muttered angrily, referring to the Daily Prophet, put off his breakfast by that simpering brown nosing excuse of an article. He barked out a laugh, lips twisted in distaste, "The most heroic thing Fudge has ever done was daring to show his face with a name like Fudge…"

Really, how he managed to succeed canonically, being such a caricature as he was and is…

Remus peered at him curiously, his face almost hidden by the cloud of steam wafting from his extra large cup of hot chocolate. "Are you upset about the article? Or about the fact the writer was bought by Bagnold and Fudge before you could buy them?" He asked archly, taking a long deep sip of his drink.

He'd already checked it for silver, of course.

Kreacher was not happy about having a half breed move in, even though the elf was nominally a better 'person' nowadays, he still had his moments. It's not that easy to revert from decades of racism. Especially when most of the family still quietly believed it, behind Sirius's back.

Sirius had ordered the elf in numerous ways to not harm Remus, but there were always loopholes, albeit they seemed to be shrinking by the day, as Remus hardly ever got randomly poisoned or tripped over by randomly waylaid axes anymore.

Remus had spent an entire day chasing the elf up and down the property the other day because of the itching powder in his underwear, never realizing that Sirius had been feeling nostalgic that day.

He'd had some decent mood swings lately, it was a bit concerning, really.

Sirius took a sip of his own hot chocolate, (Remus had insisted) making a face at the all too sweet drink this early in the morning. "It's not about that…" Sirius said irritably, frowning at Remus' skeptical look, "Okay, so maybe it's a little about that." He admitted begrudgingly, "Mostly it's this ridiculous farce about painting Fudge as some sort of war hero, never once mentioning for what exactly. There's being bought, and then there's just being bloody insane!"

The aftermath of Sirius's own announcement to run for Minister had been a sobering reality check.

Having acquired Dumbledore's support - and forced the old man to express it loud and clear, he had the popular vote practically locked from the word go. This was aided further by the fact he was rich, good looking and charming - as a juxtaposition to Cornelius Fudge who was… Not.

He was a potato with a funny looking hat on top, in Sirius' modest opinion.

Yet he'd underestimated just how much the status quo meant to the purebloods, even with all his overtures and the hidden support from the Malfoys… They were still flocking to Bagnold and Fudge, providing money and a reputation boost - as all these pillars of the community kept giving interviews about all the good their dear friend Cornelius had done for the magical world.

Always lacking any specifics on what actual good he's done of course…

Considering Sirius wasn't even telling anyone about the actual radical policy changes he wanted to implement, it was a sobering wake up call. He was being as lame and vanilla as possible - and the old fossils were still all panicking and grouping together to defeat him.

Remus looked somewhat pained, their friendship only recently reestablished, the man had been trying to keep his opinions low key as to not sour their newfound equilibrium. He wasn't overly practiced in hiding his expression however and Sirius immediately noticed it.

Sirius waved a hand at him irritably, "Go on then, I can see you've got something simmering in that big brain of yours."

Remus hesitated, using another sip of his hot chocolate as an excuse to draw out the silence as he gathered his thoughts, finally setting his cuppa down and speaking up after a few minutes of introspection. "I don't mean to sound critical, Sirius, Merlin knows I have no right of it, not after everything…"

Sirius rolled his eyes irritably, already sick of all the variations of self pity over his incarceration, he gestured vividly to get on with it, Remus ducking his head guiltily.

"It's just… Your campaign is doing the exact same thing," He said hurriedly, "Not that you are in the same boat as Fudge, you actually fought in the war, you signed up as an Auror, but… You're not the hero your campaign is painting you either."

Sirius gave him an annoyed look, lips thinned together in a grimace, "Alright, no breakfast for me, I'm decidedly put out from it after being compared to Fudge of all people." Sirius said, pushing his plate of rashers and eggs away with one finger, "Please tell me you've got some point your building towards, Remus?"

Remus nodded, still looking uncomfortable to criticize Sirius at all, even to that small level, their situation too new, both of them tiptoeing around trying to figure each other out.

Remus wet his lips, eyes turning down towards the paper, "Instead of continuing to try and out hero each other… Why don't you just push his record out there? I'm sure his grades weren't anything spectacular, his career hasn't even been overly impressive either, beat him over the head with just how unremarkable he is - sell it to those high snobs just how incompetent he is, make it risky to gamble on him being able to hold the reins for long - before being toppled or screwing it up."

Sirius smirked, leaning forward over the table towards his old/new friend, "Remus… Are you telling me to go ahead and destroy my opponents credibility and sense of self worth?" He asked with a wicked grin growing on his face.

It wasn't a bad idea really, the old fops loved stability, well except the Death Eater types - but if they could be convinced Fudge wouldn't last a year…

Remus muttered something under his breath, breathing in the fumes from his still steaming hot chocolate, (magic hath its privileges) "Yes I suppose I am." He admitted, meeting Sirius' eyes in a mix of fondness and wariness, "He's not going to play nice, and he's an objectively worse candidate, so perhaps you need to go back to what you always cautioned me was the Black way…"

Sirius grinned, a thread of something vicious underneath as he met Remus eyes, "And that would be?" He asked playfully, having a good idea, but not fully remembering that time, so making sure.

Remus smiled wryly, shaking his head, "If you're not doing it dirty, you're not doing it right."

Sirius barked out a laugh, "That… Is exactly the right idea, mate!"

Sirius had used that saying for a lot of things, including sex advice for a nervous James Potter - he'd mostly done it as a prank of course, figuring he'd end up with his bollocks hexed off, but apparently Lily had hidden depths.

Probably not a story about his parents that he'd share with Harry later, or he could save it for the talk. Something to think on.

Although he'd definitely contract out the talk, he had Remus now, he could do all that unpleasant work.

He pulled his plate back towards himself, suddenly ravenous, he could do dirty, he'd been holding off on it, not going full out yet, but what better time than now?

And if he could get some revenge too at the same time… His eyes glinted with malicious intent.

Well, that would just be the cherry on top, wouldn't it?

Remus sighed, looking like he regretted his life choices as Sirius cackled quietly, but it soon turned to a smile on his weary face.

This was a dynamic they were both used to.

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Shortly after breakfast, Arcturus dropped in as Sirius was doing some parchment work, dealing with the thousands of little rules that existed around their elections, a really complex set of legislation that mostly existed to make it bloody painful to run at all.

Arcturus walked straight over to the bar, pouring himself a drink without as much as a word, Sirius raising a questioning eyebrow as he looked up from the parchment work. "That bad?" He asked, frowning.

"Barnabas Cuffe is a cretin!" Arcturus huffed, taking a long slow drink of his poison of choice.

Sirius studiously ignored his own hypocritical drink sitting at his desk despite the early hour. He was lacking in sleep lately, nightmares of Azkaban pressing in on him again, the alcohol helped soothe him for the day.

His eyes darkened as he thought of everyone that had taken part in sacrificing him, but the thoughts on revenge linger….

Perhaps that is why his nightmares wouldn't let go, because he hadn't demanded restitution yet…

"You already know he is scum, what else is new." Sirius said bitterly, reaching for his own glass, waving with the other hand for the old man to sit.

Arcturus scoffed darkly, mouth drawn into a thin line as he sat gingerly, looking frail, "Let an old man complain." He complained, "I've impressed upon him the necessity to keep articles published in the same vein going forward, not allowing total hit pieces on either side without facts."

Sirius scowled, still upset by his failure to acquire the paper, "Painting Fudge as some kind of hero is farcical…"

Arcturus looked at him with an expression of displeasure, "Don't be daft…" He saw Sirius darkening visage and hurriedly added, "My Lord…" He took another sip to steady himself before continuing, "It's vague as can be, just fluff and nonsense, he can hardly refuse to print it, there are no facts to check or disprove, because they specifically never mention a single thing to fact check."

Sirius nodded his head grouchily, pushing aside his parchment work to stand up and pace, feeling jittery, and weary. "I get it, I do, but I'm having a hard time handling all this with these Merlin damned dark impulses I have to keep back." He growled low in his throat, "Part of me wants to take revenge on everyone that wronged me, even as I logically deduce that I can't, if I want to achieve what I need."

Arcturus scoffed, lips curling into a sneer, "Sirius, you're a Black…" At Sirius's sarcastic look, he continued before Sirius got a chance to reply, "Dark impulses are practically part of your inheritance." He leaned forward, putting a bony hand on the desk, "The trick isn't to ignore them, it's to put them to use effectively."

Sirius scowled, his bitterness increasing by the minute as he focused on the injustices done by allies and friends. "I can't afford to fall into that trap."

There was a reason for the saying about digging two graves if one sought out revenge.

"Think, boy!" Arcturus barked out, "Yes, going on some hairbrained scheme for revenge is idiotic and bound to sink you more than anything, but it does not mean you give up on it and stew in resentment, that will only lead you to making a mistake down the road as everything you've held back bubbles up to the surface!"

Sirius laughed, sinking back into his chair, stopping his pacing, his gaze sardonic as he stared his grandfather down, "Are you my therapist now?" He mocked, "Or do you actually have anything tangible to say?"

Arcturus glared at him, finishing off his drink, before standing up, brushing his robes off, "Be intelligent about it, my Lord… If your goals and revenge aren't compatible at the outset, then find avenues where they intersect and get revenge while advancing another goal, add it as a step to the plan, not as its conclusion."

Sirius glared at the old man as he walked out of his office, hating the realization that he'd just acted like a petulant child. Sleep issues or not, he shouldn't allow such weakness to take over. If necessary, he decided, he would take dreamless sleep potions again. He couldn't afford to make a misstep due to something as simple as lack of sleep.

As for revenge… Perhaps the old man was onto something there. He didn't want to leave them all off scot free, but he'd decided he couldn't afford to go after them either - not if he wanted that Minister's position.

Yet… If his rage would just keep building… There were surely some small simple things he could begin with in regards to pay back a little of what's owed?

Either in a way that won't harm him, or in a way that gets him something he wants while having the secondary purpose of making things harder for those that had abandoned him to Azkaban.

He didn't want to stew in the matter, focusing too hard on revenge, because that way lay only bitterness, hate and destruction.

But ignoring it wasn't working either, it too held too much bitterness.

Perhaps revenge, like everything else, would be better in moderation?

He eyed the glass of alcohol, grimacing, he wasn't the best at moderation lately…

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Later that day, Grimmauld Place,

Of course, Sirius couldn't begin immediately in his plots to extract revenge nor his plans on starting to make Fudge appear the fool. Adding Bagnold for that matter to the plan as well while he was at it…

Why?

Because one did not stand up Narcissa Malfoy when one had an appointment with her.

No matter how much he wanted to, knowing the subject matter.

It was his own fault, he'd scheduled the meeting. As much as he hated the matter they'd be discussing, he knew it was necessary, so he'd have to take the graphorn by the horn and suffer through it.

"What about this one, Fiona Fawcett?" Narcissa asked primly, sliding a folder over to him, the other side of his desk already full of discarded folders.

Narcissa had arrived with a large imposing stack of the things, all filled with eligible women of different qualities, sorted by possible alliances, business ties and voting power in the Wizengamot, all taking precedence over any silly things like personality or looks.

You'd think with magic there would be a lot less issues in fixing yourself up to not look like a troll, but it appeared many either did not bother or hadn't the magical skill to do it.

Sirius didn't even open the folder in front of him, just groaning, head in his hands, regretting every life choice ever. "Surely being married doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things?" He complained, even knowing as he did that he was simply trying to avoid the matter, because he knew it mattered.

He knew damn it, that's why he was doing it, but it felt too much like being at the bloody market and choosing which cut of meat to purchase.

All that was missing from this was the poor women themselves being delivered so he could check their weight and give their rump a good slap!

Narcissa gave him an unimpressed look, one eyebrow raised in derision, "If I wasn't already married to Lucius, I'd marry you myself, Sirius, if only to ensure you were kept firmly on track." She stated dryly, for all appearances speaking completely truthfully.

It was really hard to tell with her, she could be lying and he'd never know, or worse, telling the truth.

Now there was a horror scenario… Although she was one hell of a fine bird… No, Bad Sirius, down! Sirius drug a hand down his face, trying to wipe the thought of him and Narcissa from his consciousness, "Cissy… Must you make me suffer like this?" He asked grouchily.

He'd spent the whole morning so far in the office, running on hardly any sleep, and probably having had one too many drinks for what could be considered healthy.

He was fully aware that he was the one ultimately in charge, that he was the one that ordered this search be set in motion - but he didn't like it, so he was going to complain anyway.

It was one of the benefits of being in charge.

She looked at him like he was a particularly misbehaving dog, her nose upturned snootily as she sat before him in a sapphire blue robe that left her long legs naked up to the knee, "If you wish to be treated seriously Lord Black, act like it." She said firmly, pushing the folder towards him again, one finger planted in the middle of it, "Fiona Fawcett." She repeated, staring him down. "This is a serious endeavor, do not make light of what could possibly be your future wife."

"But I am Sirius!" Sirius said with a wink, only getting an unimpressed stare in return, grumbling he opened the folder to see a magical photograph of a gorgeous girl, short and pixie like in appearance, the picture giving off a bubbly vibe as if the girl couldn't keep still.

Perhaps a good match all in all, she was a pureblood, from good stock, (He hated that it mattered) She had good connections, or at least her family did - which would do well for his ambitions, bringing in other families on his side… She was also from all appearances - not old enough. He flipped to the bio Narcissa had drawn up, brow rising in disbelief, he was potently unimpressed as he slammed the folder shut, leveling a displeased stare at Narcissa. "She's sixteen!"

He knew he had somewhat of a reputation, one he hadn't exactly disabused with his actions so far, but she couldn't really believe…?

Narcissa shrugged lightly, seemingly nonplussed, "She'll be seventeen in two months, in perfect time for the wedding."

Or… She could. Damn. This is not kosher.

Sirius burned the folder to cinders with a stab of his wand, while meeting Narcissa's eyes seriously, "No." He said firmly, lips pressed tight. He needed to do this, he could acknowledge that, but he wasn't saddling some poor sixteen or seventeen year old with his baggage - nor was he into school girls.

Narcissa sighed, but quietly acquisited, flipping through the folders she still held, discarding six!

It wasn't a high percentage considering how many folders she'd brought, but six underage girls was still six too many…

Everyday he kept being reminded why he was doing this in the first place… He needed to change this world.

"You'll have to actually start taking this seriously, or you'll be too late to make any difference." She warned, giving him another folder. "Depending on the family, they will not be impressed with anything less than months of courtship."

Left unsaid was that any election was likely only months away to begin with, unless they pulled the trigger on kicking Bagnold out sooner than that. He was running out of time.

And unfortunately, while he could swing the whole bachelor state to the public, it didn't do as well with the ultra traditional Wizengamot.

He looked in the folder, blanching and throwing it away. He was an ambitious man, but he wouldn't marry a troll, no matter the connections.

If he wanted any hope of swaying some of the swing votes amongst the more traditional families - he needed a pureblood wife. And the better connected and beautiful the more it would help him.

If only the black widow wasn't a murderess, she'd be perfect.

"No chance of just marrying a Veela instead?" He asked, more as a distraction as he tried to sort the various prospects he'd gone through in his mind. There were frightfully few that were palatable, the Fawcett slip of a girl being the least objectionable - if only she were a few years older. Like at least 21.

Narcissa smirked, handing him another folder, her face looking twice as beautiful without the placid resting bitch face she kept it at, "You'd probably be able to make it work, except most of them are French."

Sirius wrinkled his nose, accepting defeat.

It was one thing to marry what some thought of as half breeds.

It was an entirely different matter to marry a Frenchwoman.

He'd be chased out of Britain for that one!

"Give me the next one." He said with a deep weary sigh, knowing he was faced with the decision shortly, no matter what his feelings on the matter was.

At this point, killing Lucius and marrying Narcissa seemed a lot easier.

It would make him Draco's step daddy however, and while Sirius wasn't necessarily opposed to murder, or hot cousins, in theory… Not the first time he'd had that thought either, but...

He drew the line at having Draco fucking Malfoy calling him daddy.

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Sirius left his meeting with Narcissa feeling drained and uncomfortable, wife shopping felt inherently wrong - something he'd have to fix eventually, because he just knew some of those women and girls - wouldn't be given the choice to say no, if he'd picked them.

So he settled down with the proverbial poison pen, preparing to start the slow broil of revenge. He still agreed with his earlier decision to not put much focus on getting revenge on those that actively failed him and went after him.

But not sacrificing his political ambitions on ridiculous revenge schemes, didn't mean he needed to leave them completely alone either. There were plenty of things he could do to make people's lives more complicated, even if they were petty.

Arcturus had been right, he could advance his goals and be petty and extract a measure of revenge as well as a side benefit.

Sirius didn't mind being petty at all. Especially as his first salvo could be completed with some simple letter writing campaigns. One of the many benefits of being Lord Black was that his words were taken fairly seriously. So when he sent a letter to someone, they would not ignore it.

Especially not if he made it even slightly official, hinting at making it fully official and released to the press if people were uncooperative. He needed to begin chipping away at Dumbledore slowly, in a manner where it wouldn't even seem like he was the one targeted.

Sirius wanted revenge on him more than any of the others. He still intended to force the old man to see Sirius achieving everything he didn't have the balls to do - but it didn't mean he couldn't create some headaches for him in the meantime.

So he started with the Potion's Guild. Although Severus Snape hadn't really done anything to him, per say. And the antics at school in a lifetime of memories away were not anything that overly concerned him - he knew just how much of a spiteful bastard the man was. And the fact he continued to get away with it and his Death Eater past, didn't sit right with him.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He knew seeing him dead or in Azkaban was too much, he was still regrettably useful. Although if they could get all the Horcruxes before Voldemort returned - his use would disappear and he could be removed with prejudice from his cushy position.

Any attack on Snape would burn Dumbledore's capital to protect him, and chip away at his infallible old wizard in his tower image.

Sirius was drafting a letter to question Snape's credentials. It would likely not end up passing muster after an investigation, but just the fact he'd be investigated at all, would both infuriate the man, and let him know he was on notice. And if he was lucky, they'd actually find something or Snape would refuse to cooperate at all.

With a small leak to the Daily Prophet he could ensure that everyone knew Snape's credentials were in question and being investigated. Them later being confirmed (possibly) would hardly even pass as news, people tended to remember the scandalous news much better than the plain old truth.

Snape wasn't yet that entrenched in his potions professor position that he could just shrug off this attack on his capabilities and history. Dumbledore would have to step in to defend him.

But the Potions Guild was international, and not beholden to Dumbledore, so he wouldn't be able to stop an investigation from taking place.

There were very few British men and women in the Potions Guild all things considered, so Dumbledore was weak in the international guilds thanks to his mismanagement of Hogwarts producing so few slavishly loyal adherents of his that could enter those hallowed halls.

That's what happens when you lower the quality of teachers and subjects to fit your social experiments…

Whereas at the other side of the coin, Lord Black held a certain reputation and sway due to family, but mostly due to the money. Guilds liked money. They were scientists and researchers on one hand - and merchants on the other - both sides loved cash.

The avenue Sirius was taking to really nail the bastard - was Snape's Death Eater past. Painting a picture for the Guild, Severus Snape partnering constantly with the potions genius (Slughorn confirmed) Lily Evans, the muggleborn… Despite already being in Death Eater circles.

How he just happened to always have perfect potions just like her.

Of course they likely practiced them together - but it only needed to sound true, Snape wasn't a likable man, the appearance of something believable would taint him enough, even if later proved untrue. Especially as Snape was arrogant enough he might simply refuse to participate in the investigation, which would neatly make it impossible for him to prove differently.

Severus Snape the Death Eater, becoming the youngest potion master in history, while Lily Evans dies, any recipes for new potions or improvements suspiciously not found amongst her belongings - despite her potions genius. Almost like someone had already stolen them.

It's not like she could complain - she went into hiding, just in time for Severus Snape to get his potions mastery - targeted by Death Eaters she was…

What a coincidence, right?

The Death Eaters were competent users of the unforgivables… Sirius would ask the Guild the question, what assurances do they have that the confirmed Death Eater did not steal or appropriate the potions he submitted for his mastery? What assurance do they have that Lord Voldemort did not provide him with the knowledge to assist Snape into his title - to make it easier for him to sneak into Hogwarts for his master?

His number one question - could Snape verify under a truth ritual or Veritaserum that he had never used an unforgivable for this, that he'd never used one on Lily Evans.

If Snape refused to undergo this, he'd drag his reputation down even if everyone involved knew he didn't steal his potions knowledge. And if he agreed, then he'd confirm his active participation as a Death Eater and his use of Unforgivables, destroying what reputation he had left anyway.

Which would create a huge headache for Dumbledore as rumors are one thing - actual proof of unforgivables is another.

Pardoned or not, that won't look good for Snape - or the one that gave him that pardon, and the Potions Guild might sanction him just to cover their asses.

He'd be fucked either way no matter how it went at that point, even if he'd likely hold onto his professorship thanks to Albus Dumbledore and his puppy dog eyes.

It was only the start of his revenge on those that wronged him, or would wrong Harry Potter or the world later. But it would set the ball rolling, would inconvenience both Snape and Dumbledore, and even if it failed, would still hurt their reputations, making it easier for another stage later to stick.

It was just the first salvo of many, Dumbledore would eventually fall, a death of a thousand cuts would fell the giant.

His lips twitched in dark humor as he added the last few lines to his inquiry.

If Snape - as Dumbledore postulated in his testimony - was a spy, secretly working for their side. Then how did Peter Pettigrew go unnoticed - how did Sirius end up in Azkaban - how did Lily Potter end up dead, no potions notes of note anywhere - how did James Potter, Snape's rival and school enemy, end up dead in this betrayal - Snape walking away with everything, just by chance?

Can the Potions Guild confirm that Severus Snape was not a member nor earned his title through illegal means?

Sirius smirked as he sealed the letter with his signet ring. Even those believing in Dumbledore fully, and therefore trusted Snape fully - would have second thoughts for a while with this, especially once the Guild would have to open an investigation. They had no choice with a Lord openly questioning them in this manner.

International remit withstanding, a powerful pureblood lord was not something a guild could just ignore completely, it risked their status too much if the different legislatures around the world, controlled by the pureblood elite, began to go after them for perceived slights.

A small donation offered to 'assist' them in the matter would speed things along nicely as well, as those things usually did.

He scrawled down a reminder on the calendar filled with naked muggle women that he'd hung on the wall behind his desk, hidden behind a portrait whenever someone important was visiting, but there now, for Sirius to note down to remember to leak the Potions Guilds investigation on Snape to the press once it started.

It was horribly out of date, having once been in his teenage room, but it was nostalgic.

He rose up from his desk, another small note in his hand that he'd just scrawled. "Kreacher!" He called out.

With a pop his servant appeared before him, bowing his head subserviently. "Master called Kreacher?" He mumbled out, his usual scowl almost pleasant looking today.

Sirius handed him the note, "Deliver this to Professor Mcgonagall at Hogwarts, wait for a reply and bring it back to me immediately."

Kreacher wasn't one for small talk, he immediately popped away once it was obvious Sirius had no further orders, off on his task.

Sirius walked over to the enchanted window in his office, hands behind his back as he stared out over the Thames, not as it was now, but as it was several hundred years ago, the wonders and weirdness of magic never ceased to amaze him.

Watching the river flowing through a different London, a different time, before the onset of the industrial revolution, was oddly soothing.

He waited several minutes, just staring out at the river, pondering recent events, going over his marriage prospects, begrudgingly picking a list of top three choices. He'd need a partner for this whole Minister thing…

He grimaced at the thought of having to stop sleeping around, he'd barely started enjoying his new life.

Kreacher popped back before he could spiral further into disquiet over the possibility of marriage with someone he'd grow to hate. Acknowledging he was unlikely to be a good man or one often at home, making it a poor deal for any poor woman.

Sirius turned to his elf, taking the small piece of parchment offered, raising an eyebrow at the answer within.

"Very well." He muttered, "Kreacher, prepare my most official robes, I will be going as Lord Black today." He ordered, crumpling the note in his hand, face hard and unyielding.

Minerva McGonagall had testified against him at his trial. Had pissed all over the Marauders, twisting reality to suit her feelings on the matter. He couldn't remove her, she was too useful where she was, and it would create a public outcry if he tried.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't punish her for her temerity in helping in the efforts to send him back to Azkaban.

4 o'clock at the three broomsticks, the note had said, rejecting his offer of meeting in her office.

Whether it was an effort by Dumbledore to keep him out of Hogwarts, or McGonagall herself trying to offer an olive branch by meeting in a less official setting, he didn't know, nor did he particularly care.

He burned the note with a wave of his wand, coolly watching the ashes flutter down to the carpet.

This wouldn't bring forward his plans for the Minister's seat, it wouldn't have anything to do with that push at all. Well… There were some small things she could do…

All in all though, he wasn't meeting her for the purpose of his ambitions.

But it would feel bloody good anyway and put the old cat down a peg, it was worth wasting an afternoon on… And if he could finagle a small benefit out of it as well, then he'd neatly gotten a small measure of revenge while still moving the plan forward.

He'd give her the same consideration she'd given him and his fate, he thought, fists clenched.

None.

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Hogsmeade, Three Broomsticks.

Sirius arrived at the three broomsticks a bit early, so instead of heading up towards the backrooms, of which he'd already hired one for an hour, using Kreacher as the messenger - he headed towards the bar, and the lovely Madame Rosmerta.

"Sirius Black, in the flesh!" Rosmerta said gaily, giving him a long once over, a slight flush to her cheeks that he imagined was because of his own debonair personage. "Or is it Lord Black today, fancy as we are?" She asked, tongue in cheek, fanning herself exaggeratedly.

Sirius leaned up against the bar, sending her a suave smirk, "You, Rosmerta, can call me anything you'd like!" He offered, not opposed to the eyes she was sending him.

There was a reason everyone thirsted for the woman, she was very gifted. And had a flirtatious happy attitude about things that drew you in. She could appear warm and comforting if she sensed that's what you needed, or she could be raucous and flirtatious, driving swathes of students into puberty just by her presence.

With the bitterness, descent into alcoholism, and shivering memories of Azkaban that was plaguing him lately - she was a breath of fresh air.

She slapped him lightly with a cleaning towel, a flirtatious smirk blooming onto her face, "Cad, I'll call you a cad! My Lord!" She laughed, a tinkling and amused laugh - the patrons around them all giving Sirius dirty looks for monopolizing her attention.

Things changed over the years, but Rosmerta's hold on the entirety of the population around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts didn't. At a gesture from Rosmerta, her staff took over most of the work, the beautiful proprietor focusing on him.

Not that all the customers left immediately, since they weren't really at the bar to pick up drinks…

Sirius smirk widened, even as he grasped Rosmerta's hand, giving it a quick kiss, "I would never dishonor you, Rosmerta! Disrobe, perhaps, but never dishonor!" He promised cheekily.

Rosmerta roared with laughter, her cheeks reddening even more, even as she slapped Sirius hand away lightly, "You haven't changed a bit! You always were the suave little seducer, I half expected to see you bogged down with half a dozen little ones."

Her expression briefly turned guilty as she realized why he couldn't possible have begun spawning too much, but true to form, she pushed away that depressing thought and smiled prettily again, leaning forward to apologize for bringing up bad memories by giving him a good view down her cleavage.

Sirius gave her a crooked grin, doing her the favor of looking, taking the silent apology, "Not yet Rosie, perhaps soon." He answered her, making a hush motion with one hand, "I'm thinking of settling down soon as a matter of fact." He couldn't hide the hesitation in his voice, still uneasy about the whole thing, even as he tried to play it off.

Rosmerta stepped closer, waving off any left over customers to one of her staff, leaving her and Sirius alone at the end of the bar, Rosmerta leaning over it in a way that practically popped her bosom out of her top, giving him a nice view irregardless. "Well, she'll be a lucky lady, especially with the recent findings from Witch Weekly about you." Rosmerta said slyly, nudging him slightly, teasing him.

Sirius groaned, putting his head in his hands, "That damn article, she certainly didn't tell me she was going to write about our 'experience' like that."

It was good for his reputation at the same time as it was bad for his reputation, but it was also a bit bloody embarrassing to get called out for it. It was different if he played it up in the first place, then he could act all prideful over it, he'd just sound like an ass if he did it now…

Rosmerta laughed again, which did wonderful things to her… Assets. Her rosy plump lips were pouting cutely as she eyed Sirius with mischief, "You know, I always thought you were all talk no action, the kind of little boy who bragged a lot but had nothing to back it up with…" She said leadingly.

Only the waitress, not the proprietor back in those days, Rosmerta had done her fair share of flirting with the young Sirius, he could even remember those times, for some reason those memories were vividly available.

He'd spent a lot of time with Rosie in his dreams once upon a time.

Sirius gave her an affronted look at her incredibly wrong assessment, "Rosmerta, stabbing me right through the heart like that, I thought we were mates!" His growing smirk showed that he took no offense, immensely enjoying the back and forth.

It was something lighthearted to soothe his frayed nerves and it was succeeding in breaking down the emotions and thoughts developed from the depressing realities of his family, and his odd new friendship with Remus.

Rosmerta giggled, leaning her head into her tented hands with a little pleased sigh, "Not a little boy anymore are you… And so well recommended too, some witch is going to be very lucky." She breathed out, pouting at him, and fluttering her eyelashes coyly.

Being shy was definitely not something anyone ever claimed of Rosmerta - her signals were very clear.

Sirius grinned openly, not going to be a fool and turn down the opportunity of a lifetime, leaning forward slightly, "I'm not married yet, and I feel that for my honor, I must correct that braggart little boy comment, you must give me a chance to prove myself." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, drawing another laugh out of Rosmerta.

"Now, now, Sirius, I specifically remember you ordering a room for a meeting with Professor McGonagall for ten minutes from now…" She had a mirthful look on her face as she tilted her head and smiled, "I hope you're not saying you'd be finished by then?" She asked innocently, dragging a finger down his chest.

Sirius smirked roguishly, "Absolutely not, you're wounding my reputation here, dear lady, Professor McGonagall won't mind waiting an hour." This meeting was simple petty revenge just for the hell of it, it can wait, Sirius thought resolutely.

Some things were just too important to miss out on.

Rosmerta chuckled, seemingly amused at the thought of leaving Professor McGonagall waiting. She pursed her lips in thought as she looked over a wooden keyboard hanging next to the bar, hooking one key around a finger and twirling it around, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"What are you planning, looking so devious?" Sirius said, a wide grin growing on his face.

Rosmerta looked absolutely sinful as she practically flowed around the counter to slide Sirius arm into the crook of her elbow, leaning up against him, "This is the key to the room next door to the one you're meeting in." She said suggestively, biting her lip, looking excited.

Rosmerta the exhibitionist? That's… Not that surprising actually, considering she spends her days shoving her knockers into teenagers faces for better tips. Sirius thought with some amusement.

"Aren't those rooms magically soundproofed?" He asked, leading Rosmerta towards the back stairs, his heart beating fast, as a teenage fantasy of the original Sirius Black seemed on the cusp of reality.

Rosmerta giggled, giving him a sultry look, "I control the wards." She whispered in his ear, before lightly biting his earlobe, the minx appearing very excited at the possibility of fooling around in such a way.

Sirius laughed, looking forward to it. Both the no doubt amazing time he'd have for the next hour or so, but also the fact he'd immensely offend professor McGonagall. For all that she'd throw up her own silencing spell immediately - once she realized what was happening - she'd also realize that Sirius had postponed their meeting to have sex. If he knew Minnie at all, she'd be furious.

If she left, he'd still get to piss her off later, if she stayed, he'd get to meet her, freshly fucked, and talk down to her in such a delicious manner.

This was rapidly turning into a very good day.

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One hour thirty five minutes later,

To Sirius's surprise, when he knocked on the door, he received a terse "Enter." From the inside.

He grinned sharply, she'd stayed after all, someone must be feeling very guilty about being wrong! He thought, a dark pleasurable feeling washing over him as he realized he was finally actually going to show his displeasure with one of the people that had wronged him.

His limbs felt looser somehow, and the dark presence that he'd felt hanging over him lately, almost like his own personal Dementor - was absent. He felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in days.

Despite the fact he was completely freshened up, even having had the time to take a shower, (including some amazing shower sex) he quickly ruffled his clothes, running a hand through his hair to mess it up to make him appear more rakish.

Minnie would expect him freshly fucked, so why not give her what she wanted?

He pulled the door open, smirking devilishly as he stepped inside, "Minnie." He said, flashing his teeth in an unfriendly way, "Hope you've had a pleasant wait?"

Minerva McGonagall, sitting stiffly in one of the high backed chairs available in the room, looked as if cut from stone, responding archly, "Not as pleasant as you, no doubt, Lord Black."

From the looks of the room and its sole occupant, she'd hardly moved for the past hour and a half. It only amused him more.

Sirius laughed, running a hand trailingly across the wall as he stepped around her, pacing the room slightly, forcing her to either turn to watch him, or let him at her back, something she wasn't comfortable with if he read the stiffening in her shoulders correctly.

Why? It's not like I'm a murderer… Or do you still believe? He thought acidicly.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to make you feel imprisoned here." He drawled, heavy on the sarcasm, ending up standing by the window, a few feet right behind her, forcing her to either get up and turn his way, or continue this facing away from him.

He wasn't going to have a discussion with her like an errant student coming for detention to stand before her, she didn't control this room, this conversation, he did.

Or he supposed technically Rosie did, but he'd fucked her and that basically meant what's hers is his right now. She certainly hadn't quibbled about the fact his paid hour for the room passed by while they were occupied.

Minerva stood up, straightening her robes as she turned around, a slight tension in the wrinkles around her eyes as she pursed her lips before she came to stand beside him, "I was not opposed to waiting, Lord Black." She said stiffly, "It was by no means an imposition, although it was thoughtless, but as of recent events… I suppose I deserve as much." She admitted, looking pained.

She sounded old and weary, perhaps an attempt at appearing weak before him so as to not be seen as someone that purposely attempted to twist history to her own benefit. Maybe she wanted to call it all just a simple mistake.

Either way, she looked old and sad, which somewhat bothered him, despite everything.

Sirius huffed in disgust at that, well if she was going to take all the fun out of it… "You do, for believing the worst of me, which can somewhat be blamed on the harsh times, even if it doesn't make it right…" His eyes hardened as his face grew stony as he glared at her fiercely, "But there is no excuse for showing up for my trial to try and send me back to Azkaban, reinventing the truth to nail me that much harder to my coffin!"

That could not be forgiven! He thought harshly.

Minerva winced visibly, her hands shaking slightly as she once again straightened her robes, "I know." She said thickly, emotionally, "I know I did something unforgivable, I shouldn't have gone, shouldn't have twisted things due to misplaced anger and sorrow. I can't ever apologize enough, Sirius."

Still despite the apology she stood tall and didn't prostrate herself, she had her pride still at least. But all in all, this was just… Not what he'd imagined.

Sirius grimaced, this was getting less fun every second. What was the point of getting back at people if they were going to be so damn blubbery and sorry for it… "Well, at least you realize it." He said gruffly, switching tracks slightly, to the second reason he'd arranged the meeting.

Perhaps he wouldn't be as harsh as he intended in words, the idea of it tasting like so much ash in his mouth, with her honest regret so visible… But in deeds, he'd still make her pay for her actions.

"I didn't want to meet to discuss your apologies, because they don't matter." He said harshly, looking away from his old favorite professor, staring out the window, seeing Hogwarts in the distance. "I need a favor, and who better to provide than someone who's harmed me dearly and owes me one…"

Minerva blinked, taken aback, before growing wary, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye as she stood next to him at the window, "If I can help, I will." She said cautiously, seemingly leery of what he'd ask.

Sirius shivered slightly, just because he'd slept with Rosmerta did not mean he was going there. Get your mind out of the gutter woman!

"I need Cornelius Fudge's entire school record, grades, detention record, everything." Sirius said with a determined look on his face as he turned to look Minerva in the eyes, "Bagnolds as well, just for the fun of it, would serve that old windbag well, I doubt she qualified as any kind of genius…"

She immediately shook her head, features forming up sternly, "You know I can't just release those, Lord Black." She replied, taking a step away, returning to a more official language now, as if that would stop Sirius from continuing.

"Sure you can, it's actually quite easy, you just… Grab them, and hand them over. Five minutes of work, tops." Sirius said, eyeing her with a sharp toothy smirk settling on his face.

Minerva shook her head firmly, lips pressed together tightly, "I can not do that. You would do better seeking out someone in the Department of Education." She suggested primly, "I will not sully Hogwarts reputation, nor my own."

Sirius snorted, giving her a sardonic look, "Ah, yes, I'm sure old Millicent will release her records to me, I'm certain she isn't watching my every step in the Ministry…" The sarcasm was heavy in his reply.

If Bagnold wasn't watching him, she was a certifiable idiot. Sirius could probably get the same records from the Ministry through a proxy and a bevy of bribes - but he didn't want to, not when he had someone here he can put under pressure, someone that he wanted to hurt just a little bit, just enough to realize they'd fucked up.

He sighed dramatically, looking up at the ceiling, "So you will not do an old comrade this small favor then? Despite the debt between us, the way it leans heavily in my favor?" He asked, mockingly, a sneer growing in place as he watched his old professor stick to her principles.

Funny how she could do so now, but had no problem breaking them to testify falsehoods at his trial, not to mention the shit pulled in the future through seven years of hell. Those principles were mighty flexible…

"Lord Black, I will not break the law by releasing those records to a non-family member." She replied stiffly, "I regret my actions every day for how I failed you," Her eyes softened for a moment beneath her glasses, before hardening in resolve, "But I can not compromise my ethical responsibilities."

"Again." Sirius said darkly, making her blink in confusion.

"I beg your pardon?" She asked, warily.

"You can not compromise your ethical responsibilities. Again. Because what would you call lying on the stand in a trial that would ensure the death of the defendant?" Sirius said sardonically, giving her a dark look, "I guess it's different when it's only school records." He mocked viciously, seeing her flinch back slightly.

"Two wrongs do not make a right." She said after a long pause, looking drawn and tired and so very old.

Sirius couldn't care less right now, he'd long since decided he wouldn't take full revenge as it would simply poison him, and ensure he'd lose allies, but he wasn't all together without bite, either. "You will bring me those files." He said mildly, resting his hands behind his back as he stepped away from her, going back to a more casual mien, his long flowing Acromantula silk robes lending him a certain gravitas.

"I will not." She rebutted firmly, "Lord Black, if you insist on this matter I won't have a choice but to involve Albus." She warned.

Sirius smiled, amused, "Albus, ah yes, one can never be too old to run to daddy for backup and headpats can one?" He mocked lightly, continuing on even as he saw Minerva's hackles rise at the casual insult, "Let's talk about real consequences then, Mistress of Transfiguration."

Minerva furrowed her brow, thrown by the apparent non sequitur.

"You allowed three students to become illegal Animagus during your time as Transfiguration Mistress at Hogwarts." Sirius said calmly, watching her confused expression as he continued on, "Not only did they run around Hogwarts for years as such, they ended up committing crimes together… One of them ending up eventually committing the utmost betrayal, a very dark crime, partly through the ability they now had to go around unseen in a rat animagus form."

Minerva looked flabbergasted, raising a shocked eyebrow as she sputtered out, "You can not seriously be attempting to put Pettigrew's betrayal at my feet?"

Even if not him… You either allowed us to run around with a werewolf against all laws, or were ignorant of it all, which is just as bad… He thought, amused at using his own indiscretions against her.

He knew she hadn't known, but that also worked, because it did not paint her in a good light at all.

How does the Transfiguration Professor and head of their house miss her students being Animagus for years…

Sirius smirked, waving her objection away with a hand, dismissively. "Not at all, but it's a nice thought project, either you were an incompetent teacher and administrator - unable to notice three students spending years as illegal Animagi under your aegis, getting up to no good or even criminal acts… Or you knew and were partly responsible for what happened. Which is it?" He asked scathingly.

"What are you implying?" She asked frostily, nostrils flaring.

"I am not without means any longer. I am quite capable of running a campaign in the Daily Prophet… Capable of demanding an investigation from the Transfiguration Guild on your suitability for teaching Transfiguration, to run articles in Transfiguration weekly, ruining your reputation, because no matter how you spell it, you were either complicit - or incompetent." Sirius threatened calmly, a small smile on his face.

Minerva clenched her fists, eyes flashing with anger, "Are you attempting to blackmail me?" She barked out, incredulously.

Sirius laughed quietly, before answering with an amused voice, "I am giving you options, you get to choose which one, for all I care choose the ruination of your reputation, that would be suitable punishment for your lies as well."

Oh, just like with Snape, his proof was thin as ice, but the magical world didn't run on proof or truth. It ran on money, reputation and blood. And Sirius had more of all three then they did at the moment.

It would hurt his reputation to run a smear campaign for such a beloved figure, but he'd still succeed. Because people loved to believe the worst about a known and celebrated figure.

It's why Dumbledore could be toppled from his mountain so easily in Canon. Speaking of, he'd win no matter what she chose, because again, if Dumbledore had to waste political capital on putting out fires, he was losing his invincible aura.

"You would really do this, Sirius?" She asked quietly, sounding let down, face sucked in like she'd tasted something particularly sour.

Sirius smiled a million galleon smile, "With bells and whistles on it, luv." He promised.

…

He got the school records.

Fudge really shouldn't be in his position, what a bad bad stupid little man.

His department had a certain requirement in grades that Fudge had enforced heavily, a requirement he didn't meet himself.

He could already picture the Daily Prophet headline.

The truth about Fudge's grades! More unqualified for his department than the interns!

Or,

Fudge wouldn't get hired as an intern! The truth about his record!

It wouldn't sway his supporters yet, but it would put a beginning platform in place. No one liked being tarnished with the same brush as that of an idiot.

Sirius just needed to show them all that.

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Grimmauld place, two days later,

A stack of papers were unceremoniously dropped in front of Remus, where he was sitting on an armchair pretending to read an article in Transfiguration weekly. "What's this?" He asked, confused at the muggle papers.

He hadn't seen many muggle things around Grimmauld place, not with Narcissa and Cassiopeia renovating things.

It's one of the things he'd noticed Sirius had lost somewhat, that old fascination with muggle things, now he seemed to almost find them boring, like he'd seen it all.

Remus could only regret his failures even more whenever he noticed one of those incongruities, wondering how much his friend had lost in Azkaban.

Too much, any of it was too much…

Sirius let out a heavy breath as he sunk into the opposite armchair, looking tired but pleased at himself. "Your new job papers." He explained waving at the papers with one hand.

Which… Didn't explain anything.

Remus put down his magazine, lifting up the first piece of paper, an obviously faked (to him) muggle employment history and diploma for a Remus J Lupin.

"A teacher?" He murmured, slightly interested despite himself. If not for his problem, a teaching career would definitely have been something he'd have enjoyed.

Remus put the paper down, hesitantly, "Sirius… The muggle world doesn't really handle time off for every full moon well." He said feeling slightly defeated.

Sirius snorted, looking at him with eyes that were a mix of compassion and bitterness. There was so much bitterness in his old friend, it seemed to have gotten better in the last few days, but it still worried Remus.

"It's not a problem, I had my people confound the Principal, you'll get 4 days off around every full moon." Sirius said, sinking into his armchair with a pleased sigh.

Remus chuckled uncomfortably, "By people, you mean Cassiopeia or Pollux?" He asked, because while he wouldn't trust either around muggles, he trusted Cassiopeia a lot more than Pollux.

"Cassie did it, not a worry Remus, it will hold, all your paperwork is spiffy too." Sirius assured him.

Remus looked at the paperwork, feeling conflicted, "If you're sure…" He trailed off, catching something that confused him, "Sirius… Why am I teaching preschool?"

Sirius looked a bit melancholy, not answering for a moment. Both of them sat in silence as the other man gathered his thoughts.

"I've made decisions that aren't always going to be the best for others… I own that, I'll probably live to regret them, even if I fix everything else." Sirius said slowly, Remus having absolutely no idea what was going on.

Sirius pointed at Remus, expression serious, "That preschool, Remus, is in Surrey. It's the preschool I'm forcing the muggles that take care of Harry to put him in…"

Remus felt dizzy, everything feeling like he was under water, the rest of Sirius words coming like through a distance, Harry… I'm going to get to see Harry. Teach Harry! He thought a smile slowly growing on his face.

"When do I start!?" He interrupted Sirius, hands grasping the packet of papers compulsively.

Sirius smirked, a sad look in his eyes, "Soon enough, look after him for me, aye, mate?"

Remus gave him a queer look, "Of course, Sirius, we'll both be there for him, like James and Lily would have wanted!" He promised fervently, clutching the papers to his chest like the lifeline they were. He was going to get to see little Harry!

He had no idea why his statement just made Sirius grimace and look away uncomfortably.

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Andromeda Tonks paused as she put the chicken in the oven, an ominous feeling coming over her.

Like she just had the sense something she knew was just at the tip of her tongue, or the edge of her senses.

There was a knock on the door right after and she sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. She'd had a similar feeling before Sirius had suddenly arrived, once a Black always a Black it seemed… At least as far as magic was concerned.

Magic was one giant bitch at times, in Andromeda's opinion.

She'd specifically reported her conversation with Sirius to Albus so that no more Blacks would darken her door.

She straightened her appearance out, checking it in the reflection of her polished muggle fridge. She had the full intention of telling Sirius to bugger off, but it wouldn't do to appear harried or ruffled. She still had her pride in some things.

Irregardless if one was a pureblood, or a muggle, if one was a woman, there were certain expectations on appearances.

Except… As she opened the door, one hand on her wand, just out of sight, she wasn't faced with Sirius, but Narcissa!

This is so much worse! She thought despondently.

"What are you doing here?" She blurted out, eyes wide, raising one hand to her mouth in surprise at her own knee jerk reaction. Her eyes tightening imperceptibly as she realized her unintentional rudeness. Her lips thinned and her expression tightened as she decided to double down on it anyway, because this was Narcissa, the wife of a Death Eater. "You are not welcome here!" She declared haughtily.

She was already running through her list of defensive spells as she readied to use her wand if any more hidden Blacks, or worse, hidden Malfoys appeared.

Narcissa smiled sweetly, which Andromeda knew to be a lie, and held out a stack of parchments, "This was supposed to be Cassiopeia's job, but she left it to me - so very frustrating of our aunt, but it does let me see you again, so I don't mind too much." Narcissa said calmly, explaining nothing to Andromeda, what job? Why was she being handed a stack of parchment work?

Why was Narcissa here! Why was Cassiopeia supposed to come? Sirius what did you do you twice cursed fool!? Andromeda did not want anything to do with her family, why were they all crawling out of the woodwork now?

Narcissa's eyes narrowed slightly, her smile turning politely vicious, "She will regret that either way, I'm no one's servant… But in the meantime, won't you invite me in, dear sister?"

"I'm not your dear anything anymore, Narcissa." Andromeda said slowly, hand tight around her wand. "And I don't think I will… I can not forget what company you keep, nor risk my family to your wiles."

Narcissa chuckled lightly, "My wiles? Andi, you're making me sound like some sort of succubus or vampiress." She said dryly, "You really distrust me so?" She asked, sounding slightly saddened, her features sinking minutely.

Andromeda held firm, eyes hard, "Yes, and don't try that routine on me, you fake sadness well, Cissy… But I saw you grow up, saw you learn how to do so, you won't play on my emotions today, or ever." Not ever again…

Narcissa sighed, smiling nostalgically, "Ah, you haven't changed a bit, Andi. It's somewhat comforting despite everything, you still know how to ruin any fun."

"Why are you here? And how can I get you to leave and never come back?" Andromeda asked tightly, holding a tight rein over her emotions.

She didn't want anything to do with her family, the risks were too great, even as part of her longed for it still, for her sisters, even for Bella, as sick as that was… But she couldn't, they were too dangerous for Ted, for little Nymphadora.

They couldn't be trusted, she'd gotten out and it had apparently worked, but everyone else… Black blood just birthed insanity.

"Well, I would have preferred explaining things to you and walking you through the particulars." Narcissa sniffed, looking imperius and cold as she straightened and fixed Andromeda with a superior sneer, "But I suppose you could never follow along with courtesy, no doubt why you married down into the muck." She looked around at the muggle neighborhood with derision.

Andromeda met her gaze with just as much derision, the muggles here were likely ten times the people her dear husband was, despite their lack of magic.

"Was there a point somewhere there?" Andromeda asked pointedly, uncaring of Narcissa's little fit for not getting her way. She shook her head briefly, how ridiculous, to think she could walk back into her life, smile a little and pretend they could go back to normal. She is still a silly girl deep down, Andromeda thought sadly, waiting for an answer, fully ready to shut the door in her face if nothing would be forthcoming.

Narcissa smirked, dropping the pack of parchments at her feet, turning on her heels, throwing the explanation over her shoulder before she disapparated, "Congratulations for becoming the chairwoman of the Lily Potter foundation, Andi."

"What!?" Andromeda said dumbly, staring down at the parchments laying innocently at her front step.

Sirius…. This is your doing! She thought angrily, I said I didn't want anything to do with the family!

Outraged she picked up the parchments after checking them over for every curse she knew first, she wasn't stupid.

To her annoyance, there were no continued ties to the Black family in the organization they'd set up somehow, in such a short amount of time too.

They'd literally dumped a charity organization on her with no ties, money already in the bank, an organization that would fall apart if she didn't do something.

They'd tied her Circe damned hands.

I'll get you for this, Sirius Black… She thought darkly, staring at the immense workload that had just been dumped on her from nowhere.

Knowing that if she didn't do something… All that charity work would never happen, someone she couldn't trust would take over.

She couldn't hand over the reins either, she knew the magical world, that's why she made her own little corner in the edge of its existence and ignored the rest.

If she left this alone in the hands of someone else - it would be misused.

He'd neatly trapped her.

Morgana damned Blacks!

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