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Ministry of Magic, day after the official election.
Sirius stood in the center of his new office, surveying the space with a critical eye. The room was grand, as befitting the office of the Minister of Magic, yet he had managed to imbue it with a subtle elegance that spoke more to his own tastes than to the ostentatious displays of wealth that might have been expected of him.
Each Minister brought their own flair, and it was expected to such a degree that he'd only invite headaches if he went too austere in the decorations. Playing as a man more interested in getting the job done might work with the public, but in the Ministry and with the noble Lords - he'd just make himself look pathetic and subservient if he went that route.
The walls were paneled in rich, dark wood. There were no portraits of famous wizards or family crests, as might have been typical. Instead, Sirius had chosen to hang a few carefully selected pieces of magical artwork - one depicting a serene forest glade, another showing the quiet, glassy surface of a lake under the moonlight, and a third that shifted between various constellations, a subtle nod to his own name. All hideously expensive, made by long dead artists, hence acceptable to decorate his office.
His desk, a massive structure of polished Elderwood, dominated the room without overwhelming it. The surface was mostly clear, save for a few neatly stacked parchments, a set of intricately carved quills, and a single silver inkpot. The chair behind it was upholstered in deep green leather - neither his Gryffindor red nor Slytherin green, but a dark green so dark it was almost black, a more neutral, rich color that still hinted at things.
It was a chair that invited comfort but also commanded respect. The other furniture in the room followed this same philosophy, two low armchairs of similar design faced the desk, with a small table between them that held a delicate crystal decanter and matching glasses. A larger seating area was arranged near the fireplace, which crackled with a low, steady fire.
The large, arched window behind the desk that he'd ordered put in, provided a spectacular view. It had been enchanted to show Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest as they were at this very moment. Sirius found a particular comfort in this - an immediate connection to the place that had shaped so much of who the man he'd been was. The castle stood tall and proud in the distance, its spires reaching into the sky, while the forest loomed darkly to one side, its secrets hidden in the shadows of its ancient trees.
The scene changed subtly as the day progressed, the light would shift, the clouds would move, and if one watched long enough, they might even catch a glimpse of students moving about the grounds or a creature darting through the forest. The magic that made this possible was complex, but it was a luxury Sirius allowed himself, a reminder of the simpler, if not always safer, days of his youth - the days mostly stolen from him by the Dementors.
The floor was covered in a thick, dark rug with a subtle, swirling pattern - neither explicitly magical nor particularly mundane. It was the kind of detail that might go unnoticed at first, but on closer inspection, it was clear that the design was not merely decorative. It was, in fact, a complex array of protective runes, woven into the rug itself, a precaution that only the most observant might recognize. Sirius had always believed in a balance of safety and subtlety - too much of either was as good as an invitation for trouble.
The entire room was designed with the concept of balance in mind. It was neither too dark nor too light, neither too modern nor too traditional, neither too magical nor too muggle. It was a space where one might feel at ease, regardless of their background or beliefs. That was important to Sirius. He knew that as Minister of Magic, his office needed to be a place where witches and wizards of all kinds could feel comfortable, whether they were allies or adversaries, light or dark, or somewhere in between.
He was navigating a very treacherous path that necessitated allying with all sides at different points. So the appearance of a more neutral bent only helped him. Wizards were prone to take in and react to such minute details unconsciously, Hogwarts having primed them.
So he'd created an office where whether you were a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, the office decoration and colors would not cause offense. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs thankfully weren't an issue in that way.
And of course, the rug wasn't the only thing that was warded or trapped to all hell and back. It was just the one a more discerning eye might catch, and think themselves smug for realizing, not noticing the myriad of other traps, ward tripwires or dangerous artifacts.
A shelf on his right side, just off the desk and window held some books to give it a purpose of being there - and a myriad of cute little trinkets, holding the appearance of simple gifts. They were more like Dumbledore's little coterie of gadgets - Black family style.
He'd gotten them out of the deepest recesses of the family vault, some of them were pretty nasty. But they all held very useful enchantments, including one that detected all lies spoken in this office, he'd tied it to his ring, which would vibrate every time someone told him a lie.
His favorite however was probably the voice controlled artifact that was linked with the wards for a circular spot in the ceiling right above the seating area in front of his desk. Chimaera acid was a horrible surprise for anyone trying something on him - and having that fall down by just one word out of his mouth - would ruin an assassin's day - for the few seconds before they were a puddle.
This all had taken only one day to set up, Merlin he loved magic somedays…
As he took a final look around, the door to the office opened quietly, and his secretary, a young witch named Evelyn Hastings, stepped inside. She was efficient, with a quiet demeanor that belied her sharp mind. Sirius had chosen her for precisely those qualities - she was unassuming, but she missed nothing.
She was also a pureblood, appeasing the snobs, while from a progressive minor family, appeasing the muggle lovers. The amount of thought I need to expend just for a simple thing like hiring a secretary is ridiculous…
"Minister, Madam Bones and Auror Moody are here for your first appointment," Evelyn said, her tone respectful but not overly formal. Sirius appreciated that too. He was not one for excessive deference.
Well… Not from innocent Ministry workers anyway. There was some enjoyment in making rich overly important purebloods realize they were beneath you.
"Thank you, Evelyn. Send them in, please," Sirius replied, moving around to stand behind his desk. He took a moment to steady himself. It was his first official meeting as Minister. Not surprisingly, he'd chosen to begin with the two people he could expect above all to do their jobs no matter what any side said. Including him.
The door opened again, and Amelia Bones entered first, followed closely by Alastor Moody. Amelia was as composed as ever, unlikely to treat him much differently then she had when he'd 'just' been Lord Black.
Something he knew he'd come to appreciate soon, once all the brownnosers began trying to compete over who could crawl up his ass the furthest.
Moody was as grizzled and battle-worn as ever, looking like he just came from a spot of trench warfare. His magical eye whirred and clicked quietly as it scanned the room, taking in every detail, from the enchanted window to the runes in the rug - to the artifacts on the shelf.
It said something about his preparations that Moody only let out a low grunt, and didn't offer any complaints about his security. It really wasn't paranoia when everyone really was out to get you.
He'd honestly be surprised if it took over a month before his first assassination attempt.
"Amelia my sweetheart, Mad-Eye, my brother from another mother, welcome," Sirius said, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "Please, have a seat." The wide grin on his face and the wink he sent at them both detracted from the serious setting, setting them all at ease.
Amelia moved to one of the armchairs in front of the desk, settling herself with a small, approving nod, even as she rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly at Sirius's means of addressing her. Moody, after a moment of further scrutiny, took the other chair, after poking it thrice with his wand.
Once they were seated, Evelyn appeared again with a tray of refreshments - a pot of tea, a carafe of coffee, and a selection of biscuits. She placed it on the small table between them and quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Moody immediately hit everything with a bevy of detection charms.
"Help yourselves," Sirius offered, gesturing to the tray. "I thought we might have a bit of refreshment before we get started." He made a face as Moody continued to send charm after charm at the tray, "If Moody here finds it acceptable…"
Amelia nodded in thanks and poured herself a cup of tea, while Moody, finally finished and apparently satisfied, opted for the coffee. At their looks, he grunted, "If anyone poisoned anything beyond my charms ability to detect, they would have done it to the tea." He said succinctly, fully serious.
Sirius poured himself a cup of tea as well, taking a moment to enjoy the familiar ritual, ignoring Moody. He had come to find comfort in the simple act of making tea - a small anchor of normalcy in the often chaotic world he inhabited. Not that Kreacher allowed him to do so often.
Of course, Kreacher still served him here at the Ministry too, Sirius wasn't about to trust Ministry elves who weren't tied to him specifically.
For a few moments, they sat in a companionable silence, each of them sipping their drinks and gathering their thoughts. Sirius took the opportunity to observe his guests more closely. Amelia Bones was, as always, impeccably composed. Her hair, which was graying at the temples, was pulled back into a neat bun, and she appeared in a somewhat good mood. She was a formidable witch, one who commanded respect both for her intellect and her integrity - a very rare thing in the Ministry, a very valuable thing. Sirius knew that she would be a valuable ally going forward, but also one who would not hesitate to challenge him if she thought it necessary.
Which was good, because he knew himself enough to realize that he sometimes would cross the line if his eyes were too focused on the target to see the consequences of everything around him.
Moody, on the other hand, was a different sort of ally. His loyalty was more questionable, due to his ties to Dumbledore, and his methods were often unorthodox, to say the least. Sirius respected Moody's tenacity and his unyielding commitment to the fight against dark magic, but he also knew that Moody's distrustful nature could be a double-edged sword.
He could be very very useful, but he could also be an anchor to his administration if he went out of bounds too much.
"So," Sirius began, setting his cup down on the desk, "Thank you both for coming. I know it's early days yet, but I wanted to meet with you to discuss our strategy moving forward. There's a lot to be done, and I want to make sure we're all on the same page."
Amelia put her cup of tea down, eyes intent on him, "The promised budget increase?" She asked promptly.
Sirius nodded, "It is yours, it will take a few weeks to reorganize everything, but start planning out a recruitment drive and a reorganization of the DMLE, we'll shake loose some more galleons by cutting out the chaff."
Moody grinned, the look frightening on his scarred face, "You'll set off fireworks with that, none of the families that paid for these tossers to get in will be happy."
Amelia gave him a look, eye tightening under the monocle, "Alastor, we have no proof of that." She cautioned mildly. Notably she also didn't say he was wrong.
Sirius tapped the desk with his lordship ring, "It won't matter, they all voted against me, this is how the game is played, as long as I keep it to that, they'll just take it on the chin and roll with it as one of the costs of doing business with a regime change."
"Lad, there is no way this is all you're planning to do…" Moody said, voice thick with skepticism.
Sirius grinned dangerously, "No, it isn't." Moody's return grin was dark, and viciously satisfied.
"Oh dear…" Amelia sighed, reaching up to adjust her monocle, "I'm not going to have to be the first ever DMLE Director to arrest a sitting Minister, am I?" She asked.
Sirius gave her a wounded look, "You'd arrest me? But we're practically married, you and I?" He said, a hand to his heart. Also, seriously? The first? I refuse to believe no Minister was ever arrested in office!
Amelia picked her cup of tea up again, taking a sip, looking like she wished it was something stronger, before giving him a stern look, "Delusion aside, I notice you also didn't actually answer my question."
Sirius waved her off, "Nothing illegal, my dear Director, in fact, I'm helping you out, I'm taking Moody off your hands!"
Amelia blinked slowly, "Done!" She said, Moody sending her a long look.
"I haven't even told you for what." Sirius said amusedly.
Amelia serenely sipped at her tea, "You're Minister now, no take backs."
Moody scoffed, rolling his normal eye, before stabbing a finger forward towards Sirius, "What nonsense are you signing me up for?"
Sirius grin was shark-like, "A new department, internal revenue. Your job is to audit everyone, Director Moody." His grin widened as both of them visibly blanched, "That's what it will say on the tin, anyway. And you'll do that job too, but it's a cover for you to sniff through the Ministry and identify every spy, malcontent, and corrupt worker in the building."
"You'll have everyone panic. It will be a madhouse, especially when they all find out Alastor is in charge…" Amelia pointed out, looking pinched. At least Sirius was happy to note that she didn't look at all worried that the DMLE would face an audit as well.
Which meant she wasn't skimming off the top.
Not that he'd thought she had anyway, but it was good to get confirmation.
Moody did not seem overly impressed, "I'm an Auror…" He growled out at Sirius, "Not a Merlin damned bureaucrat!"
Sirius waved that off, "You'll have a staff to do all the math for you. Your job, and that of the people you hire - is to be somewhat the secret Auror service. Safeguarding the sanctity of the Ministry's operations." He turned his gaze to Amelia, as Moody chewed on that, a thoughtful frown on his face, "And I want them to panic, because as long as people within and without think that my concern is pinching every knut, they'll focus on cleaning their books and tidying up their expenses - instead of what's really going on."
Amelia narrowed her eyes, "And what exactly are you intending to hide beneath this hunt for galleons?" She asked.
Sirius smiled enigmatically, before completely ignoring her question, turning to Moody, "The Wizengamot has limited oversight of department business, so feel free to draft all rules and regulations for the department of revenue yourself."
Moody's previously grumpy look suddenly turned devious, as Amelia set her cup of tea down with a loud clink, "Minister!" She protested vigorously.
"Hmpfh, fine then lad, to begin with, I want authorization to use veritaserum and to be allowed to obliviate knowledge of interrogations from uncooperative targets." Moody said, looking ready to rattle off a whole list.
Sirius noted the absolutely deadly stare Amelia Bones sent his way, and smiled somewhat awkwardly at Moody, "Within the law only, we still have to be lawful, old chap."
Luckily in this case, British law was bloody well permissible for most actions against anyone not a Pureblood Lord.
Moody would get his authorization, the Ministry would get a full audit. And then…
Sirius would know what he had to work with.
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Ministers office, approximately two hours later,
Sirius was in high spirits as he waited for Arthur Weasley to arrive for their meeting. The conversation with Amelia and Moody had gone well, setting a strong foundation for what was to come, and now he was ready for the next step in his plans. He had always liked Arthur - there was something genuine about the man, something decent. But today, it wasn't just Arthur's decency that interested Sirius - it was his utility.
And quite frankly how easily the man could be led, as horrible as it was to say.
He leaned back in his chair, absently running his fingers over the smooth wood of his desk. The enchanted window showed a light drizzle over the grounds of Hogwarts, the gray skies lending a quiet, contemplative mood to the scene. But Sirius felt no such calm within himself. There was a deep, roiling energy in his chest, a feeling of impending action, and he was eager to get started.
It would take weeks simply to work through the Ministry and figure out budgets, redundancies, traitors and corrupt officials. Then the real work could truly begin. However, like any good plan, the groundwork could be laid long ahead of time, and that was the reason for this particular appointment.
The door opened, and Evelyn appeared, her expression as unflappable as the day he hired her. Which was yesterday, so he supposed it was possible she was actually flappable generally and was just having an off day. "Minister, I have Arthur Weasley here to see you."
"Excellent, send him in," Sirius replied, flashing her a grin. He stood up as Arthur entered the room, his smile broadening. This job is going to require way too much smiling for my liking.
Arthur Weasley stepped inside, looking a little harried, as if he wasn't quite sure why he had been summoned to the Minister's office. His robes were, as always, a bit frayed at the edges, but meticulously clean. His thinning red hair was neatly combed, and he clutched a worn briefcase under one arm. Despite his slightly disheveled appearance, there was an air of humility and warmth about him that had always endeared him to his co-workers.
Despite how he'd never had the pull of the top brass of the Ministry, he was well regarded in general throughout every department in the Ministry, and the lower the rank an employee sat on - the more they liked Arthur. Which could be a heady benefit if properly used.
Being a Gryffindor and a Weasley, Arthur had of course never actually used that. But that was fine, Sirius could use him for him, and for himself.
"Arthur! Good to see you!" Sirius called out cheerfully, striding around the desk to greet him with a firm handshake. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
Arthur blinked, clearly a bit taken aback by the warmth of the welcome. "Minister, it's, uh, it's an honor. I wasn't expecting to be called in so soon after you've taken office..." He trailed off awkwardly, unsure of the situation.
"Please, none of that 'Minister' nonsense between us," Sirius said, waving off the formality. "It's Sirius, alright? I've always preferred it that way."
He couldn't get too stuffy with a purebred Gryffindor like Arthur, or he'd always be distant. It was better to remind him they had both been Gryffs, both been in the Order - Bring some familiarity in.
Arthur nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Of course, Sirius. What can I do for you?"
Sirius motioned for Arthur to take a seat in one of the armchairs by the desk. As Arthur settled in, still looking a little unsure, Sirius poured them both a cup of tea from the pot that Evelyn had thoughtfully left behind again. He handed Arthur a cup, then sat down across from him, leaning forward with an eager expression.
"Arthur, I've been thinking a lot about how we're going to move forward with this administration," Sirius began, his tone conversational but carrying a weight that suggested this was more than just idle chatter. "And it's become clear to me that I need someone by my side - someone I can trust, someone who knows the ins and outs of the Ministry, and someone who's respected by everyone. You know who came to mind?"
Maybe a little heavy-handed, but I'm not dealing with the brightest bulb here, for all that he's genuine, he's also painfully naive about some things - or willfully looking away from it.
Arthur shook his head, clearly not following where this was leading, big surprise there... Sirius thought, even as Arthur spoke up, "No, I can't say I do…"
"You, Arthur," Sirius said, grinning broadly. "You're the perfect man for the job. I want you to be my Senior Undersecretary." Be my Dolores Umbridge, Arthur...
Arthur's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to process what Sirius had just said. "Sirius, I… I don't know what to say. Senior Undersecretary? That's… that's a tremendous responsibility. I'm not sure I'm qualified…"
Considering the only qualification seems to be having a brown nose, pretty sure you're vastly overqualified actually, he thought, but didn't say.
"Nonsense!" Sirius cut him off, still smiling but with a sharpness in his tone that brooked no argument. "You've been with the Ministry for years, Arthur. You've helped out in multiple departments despite having your own responsibilities, you've handled sensitive matters, you know how things run better than most. And more than that, you're a good man. People trust you, they listen to you. That's what I need - a man who can bridge the gap between the different factions in the Ministry, someone who can keep things running smoothly."
Someone who everyone knows is a decent man, which means they'll never suspect anything underhanded from that direction. Sirius thought, watching him. Arthur would of course be a spy in a way, even if he wouldn't realize it himself. Dumbledore would invite him for tea every weekend no doubt, subtly pumping him, hence why Arthur would never touch anything truly important.
But having him there was a boon in many ways. The light would be happy, they'd trust him and through that, they'd trust Sirius more just for his presence there. The dark and neutrals, they'd think they had his measure, and would attempt to bypass him, allowing Sirius to use Arthur unknowingly to great effect as they'd never suspect Arthur Weasley of having anything to do with anything nefarious.
Of course the challenge would be to use him in a way that Arthur himself had no idea he had anything to do with anything nefarious.
Arthur looked down at his tea, clearly overwhelmed. "But Sirius, I've always worked in more… Modest positions. I've never had that kind of authority. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it."
Sirius stood up and walked around the desk, laying a hand on Arthur's arm in a gesture of reassurance. "Arthur, you're exactly who we need. Modesty isn't a weakness - it's a strength. It means you'll approach the job with humility, with a sense of responsibility. That's rare in our world, and it's exactly what we need right now." The fact I have to beat you over the head to get you to accept really shows how much of a unicorn you are…
If the magical world had more Arthur Weasley's, they wouldn't need Sirius to come in and violently rip it up by the roots and replant it into something worth keeping.
Arthur still looked uncertain, but Sirius could see the idea beginning to take root in his mind. He pressed on, his voice full of encouragement. "Think about what this would mean for your family, Arthur. The salary, the benefits… You and Molly wouldn't have to worry about money anymore. You could provide for your children in ways you've always wanted to. And the respect you'd earn - it's more than deserved."
Arthur looked up, his expression softening as he thought of Molly and their children. "I… I don't know what to say, Sirius. This is… It's an incredible offer."
"It's the right offer," Sirius said firmly, going back to his seat, leaning back with a satisfied smile. "You've done so much for the Ministry over the years, Arthur. It's high time someone recognized that. And as Senior Undersecretary, you'll have the chance to really make a difference. We can do great things together."
He met his gaze intently, "Let's make Magical Britain great again, Arthur."
Arthur was silent for a long moment, clearly wrestling with his thoughts. Finally, he looked up at Sirius, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and lingering doubt. "If… If you really believe I'm the right man for the job… Then I accept. I'll do my best, Sirius. I won't let you down."
Sirius's smile widened, it was so nice when things went as planned. "I know you won't, Arthur. I have every confidence in you. You're going to be brilliant." He effused warmly.
With Arthur closer to him, Dumbledore might not even completely lose his crackers once he took Harry from the Dursleys. He could probably arrange Weasley playdates that the old man could gatecrash to inspect his little savior to ensure Sirius hadn't corrupted the boy.
Politically, things could get dicey if Dumbledore protested too much, but with the Weasley's tied in - he might choose to keep playing the long game, his favorite game.
At least Sirius hoped that would be a secondary effect of this hire.
Arthur nodded, still looking a little dazed by the whirlwind of the conversation. "I'll, uh, I'll need to tell Molly, of course. She'll be… Well, I think she'll be shocked, but proud."
"Of course, of course," Sirius said, waving a hand dismissively. "Take the rest of the day to go home, tell her the good news. Give her my best, will you? And the children too. I'm sure they'll be thrilled." Suppose as a side-effect, Percy might grow up a little less of a tool.
It was a shame this was indeed so long before the so-called canon, he would have loved to have been a fly on the wall as Draco Malfoy joined Hogwarts and had to treat the Weasley's nicely because their father was the Undersecretary to the Minister. Oh well, I'll have to settle for building a world where Draco Malfoy will have to be a better person, because the type of people his father and their friends are - will be properly leashed by functioning laws and consequences.
Arthur stood, still clutching his teacup as if it were an anchor. "Thank you, Sirius… Minister! Truly. This… This means the world to me."
Sirius stood as well walking forward again around his desk to seem approachable, clapping Arthur on the shoulder in a friendly, almost brotherly manner. "The pleasure's all mine, Arthur. We're going to make a great team."
As Arthur made his way to the door, still looking a bit shell-shocked, Sirius watched him with a calculating gaze. Arthur was the perfect choice for Senior Undersecretary, not just because he was competent and well-liked, but because he was safe. Trusted by everyone, respected by many, and yet… Utterly harmless. No one would question Sirius's actions with Arthur as his second. No one would suspect the depths to which Sirius was willing to go to achieve his goals.
Sirius's smile faded as Arthur disappeared through the door, and for a moment, his expression was cold, almost ruthless. Dumbledore might not need another spy in the Ministry, but Arthur Weasley would serve his purposes perfectly. He would handle the day-to-day operations, the mundane tasks, the public face of the Ministry. He would make everyone feel at ease, give them a sense of normalcy and stability. Meanwhile, Sirius would be free to work behind the scenes, to maneuver as he saw fit.
Arthur was too good a man to question Sirius's motives, too loyal to ever imagine that he was being used. And that was exactly why Sirius had chosen him. He needed someone who would never suspect, never look too closely at the shadows.
As the door clicked shut behind Arthur, Sirius moved back to his desk, sinking into the dark green leather chair with a sense of satisfaction. Everything was falling into place. Arthur would be a perfect cover, a shield behind which Sirius could operate freely. And in return, Arthur would receive a handsome salary, a prestigious title, and the security he had always longed to provide for his family.
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No one could say Sirius wasn't generous. He'd given Arthur everything he could ever want - and in return, he'd take everything he needed.
Sirius's lips curled into a smile, but this time, it wasn't a kind smile. It was a smile of victory, of cold calculation. He had Arthur exactly where he wanted him, and the man could hardly complain. After all, he was about to become one of the most important figures in the Ministry, second only to the Minister himself.
If only because he'd allow the role to take on that much power. Most Ministers didn't like to share. But he'd empower his undersecretary, to allow him to run the mundane boring dross.
Sirius leaned back in his chair, the Hogwarts scene still playing out in the window behind him, the students laughing and going about their day, blissfully unaware of the wheels turning in the world of the adults. The rain had stopped, leaving the grounds fresh and green, a peaceful backdrop to Sirius's increasingly dangerous thoughts.
I'm just setting the stage…
Soon… Soon I'll go to war within my own Ministry…
Then when they're all properly slotted in, doing the work they're supposed to, properly.
Then…
The Wizengamot.
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Minister's office, 2 am,
The night had settled deep over the Ministry of Magic, and most of the interior had long since emptied of its usual bustle. The only sounds that filled the corridors now were the soft footfalls of patrolling Aurors and the occasional rustle of papers from the Minister's office, where Sirius still worked tirelessly. He had sent Evelyn home hours ago, telling her to get some rest while he continued to pour over the latest reports and draft plans for the Ministry's future.
When you were planning to change the entire infrastructure of how the Ministry worked, gutting some departments, creating others, moving people around, firing others, hiring new blood. It was extensive work. And due to the risks of it all being undermined if leaked - it had to be done by him.
At least now as Minister, he had a better shot at forcing the Daily Prophet under his aegis. The family that had hidden from him, the ones owning the largest slice of the Prophet pie… They still received Ministry owls.
He'd taken the liberty of drafting several internal memos for different departments across the Ministry. By this time tomorrow, the Briarwood's would find out that all their apparation licenses have sadly expired, also including the portkey license Lord Briarwood held. Their floo access had also been revoked due to discrepancies, something which he'd love to have them come in and talk about…
They'd also accumulated over fifty thousand galleons in fines. That if not contested in person would go through.
Once contested, it would show it was simply all a misfiling about a totally different family of course.
But then they'd be here, within Sirius reach. And he'd get that paper, by hook or by crook.
The enchanted window in his office, showing Hogwarts under the moonlight, was a calming presence as Sirius worked, his brain tiredly chugging along. The stars were bright against the dark sky, and the Forbidden Forest loomed like a shadowy sentinel, full of secrets that seemed to whisper through the glass. It was peaceful yet dark, so fitting for a Black like him.
As he sat alone in the quiet of his office, he found himself relishing the solitude - it had been a long day of meetings. The Ministry was his now, and every move he made was setting the stage for what was to come. The pieces were falling into place, but the game was far from over. And if there was one thing Sirius had learned over the years as an equalizer back when, it was that the most dangerous moves often came when you least expected them.
His quill scratched against the parchment as he finalized a note to Madam Bones regarding funding for additional security measures, a slight frown on his face as he considered the implications of how easily she'd gone along with things so far. He was just about to set the parchment aside when a sharp knock at the door broke the silence, jolting him from his thoughts.
Sirius's head snapped up, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. Who would be visiting the Minister's office at this hour? Especially without an appointment? His Auror guards were supposed to keep this level secure after hours, and the fact that someone had managed to reach his door without prior notice was concerning, to say the least.
Before he could call out, or activate the charm on the door that would allow him to see through it, the door opened slightly, and one of his Auror guards stepped in, his face a mask of professional neutrality but with a hint of unease in his eyes.
"Minister, apologies for the interruption, but… There's a visitor here to see you," The Auror said, clearly uncomfortable. "Lady Isabella Zabini."
Sirius's brows lifted in surprise. Isabella Zabini? The last person he'd expected to show up at this hour. She enjoyed an audience too much to try skulking through shadows.
"Let her in," Sirius said after a moment's pause, though his voice was calm, his mind was already calculating. He would have to deal with this breach in security first thing in the morning. "And send word to your Auror Captain in the morning that we need to tighten up security - no one should be able to just walk in this far, at this time of night."
If it was anyone but Isabella, he'd probably have just had them arrested, but he was well aware he owed her. And that her multiple votes could still quickly screw him in any Wizengamot vote if he refused to play ball.
"Yes, Minister," The Auror replied with a sharp nod, stepping back and opening the door wider to allow Isabella Zabini to glide into the room.
She moved with the grace of a panther, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, catching the light of the enchanted lights and glinting with an almost liquid sheen. Her robes were a deep, velvety black, fitted to her slender yet curvaceous frame, and as she walked, the material whispered against the floor in a way that was almost hypnotic. She carried herself with an air of confidence and mystery, the kind that made men turn their heads without realizing why.
Succubi could take lessons from her on how to present oneself, he thought with wry amusement. He knew what she was doing, and he still couldn't stop admiring her.
"Minister," Isabella purred as she stepped into the office, her voice soft and smooth as silk. She cast a glance back at the Auror, who was still lingering in the doorway, as if daring him to question her presence. "Such diligent guards you have… Though perhaps not as effective as you might hope." She teased, a little smugly.
The Auror immediately closed the door, going back to guarding it from the outside, hopefully there wouldn't be any other late night visitors.
Sirius snorted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest as he gave her another once-over. There was no denying that Isabella was an exceptional woman - clever, beautiful, and dangerously ambitious. "That much is clear," He said dryly. "But then again, I suppose everyone can agree that you're not easily deterred."
A sly smile curved her lips as she turned back to face him, a spark of amusement in her dark eyes. "A woman has to be exceptional in this world, Sirius. Otherwise, she's just… Ordinary."
"There's never been anything ordinary about you, Isabella," Sirius replied, his voice laced with a hint of weariness. He gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a seat. I assume you didn't come all this way just to test my security?"
She laughed softly, a musical sound that seemed to fill the room as she slid into the chair, her movements languid and deliberate. Her robe parted slightly as she sat, revealing a long, graceful leg and the shimmer of stockings beneath. She stretched out, splaying herself across the chair in a way that was both seductive and commanding, her gaze never leaving Sirius's.
"You assume correctly," She said, her tone playful but with an edge that hinted at the seriousness beneath. "I came to discuss our… Mutual interests. Specifically, why I chose to cast the deciding vote in your favor to become Minister."
Sirius leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. He had wondered about that. Isabella was a Slytherin through and through - calculating, shrewd, and always playing the long game. She didn't make decisions lightly, especially not ones as significant as this.
And he had continuously rejected her conditions. By any metric, she should have sunk him, hard.
"Indeed," Sirius said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. "I've been wondering what made you place your bet on me, Isabella. What do you stand to gain?"
Isabella's smile widened, a flash of teeth as she tilted her head to one side, regarding him with a gaze that was both seductive and predatory. "Oh, Sirius, you know I love a good bet on a stud. And I always bet on the horse I think is going to win."
"But why me?" Sirius pressed, his tone becoming more serious. "You had plenty of other options - lucrative options. You must have a reason for taking this risk."
Because Sirius was never going to give in and marry her, so her main goal in courting his interest was already dead in the water.
She leaned back further in the chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly and drawing his attention to the elegant lines of her body. Her fingers traced the armrest idly, as if she were considering her words carefully. "You intrigue me, Sirius. You're not like the others in this little world of ours. You're unpredictable, and that makes you dangerous… but it also makes you interesting. I like interesting."
"Is that all this is to you? Entertainment?" Sirius asked, his voice hardening slightly. "Because if you're expecting me to dance for your amusement, you might be disappointed."
Isabella laughed again, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Oh, no, Sirius. It's much more than that. I'm throwing down a bet, and I do so love when men owe me. There's nothing quite like the power that comes with being owed a favor… Especially by someone in your position."
Sirius regarded her silently for a moment, weighing her words. He had no illusions about Isabella's motives - she was playing her own game, just as he was playing his. But the fact remained that he did owe her. Without her vote, he wouldn't be sitting in this office right now. And that meant he had to tread carefully.
"Fair enough," Sirius said finally, his tone measured. "I won't deny that I owe you. But I'd caution you not to get too greedy, Isabella. I'm a man who pays his debts, but I don't take kindly to being manipulated."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned forward, her lips curving into a sultry smile. "Oh, Sirius, I wouldn't dream of manipulating you. I'm merely… Collecting on my investment. And I think you'll find my terms quite reasonable."
He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair as he gestured for her to continue. "Alright, then. Let's hear it. What's the price of your support?" And you better not say bloody marriage!
Isabella's smile deepened as she settled back into her chair, one hand resting casually on her knee while the other trailed along the armrest. She seemed to consider for a moment, her gaze locked on his with a half-lidded stare that was both alluring and dangerous.
It really should be illegal to be this hot, he thought. Magic must be involved somewhere, because normal women didn't get like this.
"Three dates," She said softly, her voice like honeyed wine. "That's half my price. Just three little evenings together - dinner, perhaps, or something more… Intimate. I'm not picky."
Sirius's eyes narrowed slightly, his mind racing as he considered the implications of her request. Three dates? It was almost too simple, too straightforward. There had to be more to it. Three dates did not tie them together, it was fleeting, something over too quick.
What would she get out of that? Did she think she could break him in three dates? Make him bend the knee?
"And what's the other half of your price?" He asked, his tone dry, though there was a note of curiosity in his voice. Because amongst all of his enemies, allies, and those in-between, Isabella was the only one who managed to constantly have him second guessing everything.
Isabella's eyes glittered with amusement as she giggled, a light, almost girlish sound that seemed out of place in the heavy, serious atmosphere of the office. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, Sirius, a lady must have some secrets. But don't worry - when the time comes, you'll know exactly what I want."
Sirius snorted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "You expect me to help you for a favor I know nothing about? That's a tall order, even for you, Isabella." Or in another word. No.
She tilted her head, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made the air between them feel charged. "Trust me, Sirius. When the time comes, you'll help plenty… And you'll be glad you did."
That's not ominous at all…
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the tension in the room thickening as the unspoken power play between them hung in the air. Sirius kept his expression carefully neutral, masking the mix of curiosity and wariness that Isabella's words had stirred in him.
He leaned forward in his chair, studying her with a calculating gaze. "You're asking me to make quite a leap of faith, Isabella. Trust isn't exactly something I give freely." Or at all.
She smirked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward slightly, her posture languid but poised, like a cat waiting to pounce. "It's not trust I'm asking for, Sirius. Just a willingness to keep the door open. And really, what do you have to lose? A few pleasant evenings with an exceptional woman?" Her voice was velvet, smooth and beguiling, with an undertone of challenge.
I dare you, she seemed to say, what are you? Chicken?
Sirius tilted his head, considering her words. He knew better than to take Isabella's request at face value. There was always more to her games, layers of intrigue and deception woven into her every move. But as much as he disliked the idea of being beholden to anyone, he also understood the value of keeping someone like her close. Better to have her where he could see her, and perhaps even use her, than let her slip into the shadows where she could become a threat.
He allowed a small, sardonic smile to tug at the corners of his lips. "Three dates, then. I suppose I can afford that much. But don't think for a moment that I'm blind to what you're doing, Isabella. You're not the only one who likes to keep a few secrets."
Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement. "I wouldn't dream of it, Sirius. In fact, I'd be disappointed if you didn't have a few surprises up your sleeve. That's what makes this so much ~fun."
She shifted in her seat, reclining with the confidence of someone who knew she had won the first round. "But I'm not greedy, Sirius. All I'm asking for is a little… Reciprocity. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. And who knows? Maybe we'll both come out ahead." She licked her lips slowly, smiling.
Sirius regarded her in silence for a moment, weighing his options. She was clearly up to something, but that didn't necessarily mean it was something that would harm him. In fact, if he played his cards right, he might be able to turn this situation to his advantage.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers in front of him. "Alright, Isabella. I'll play along - for now. But understand this - I don't owe anyone anything for long. If you try to push me too far, you'll find that the price for your little wager will be higher than you expected, don't try and hold this against me for too long before you reveal what the rest of my favor is." He warned.
Her smile was slow, sultry, and filled with a promise of something darker. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Sirius. I'll lay myself fully bare before too long…"
She stood up gracefully, her movements fluid and elegant, and smoothed her robes with a casual air of someone used to being in the halls of power. "I'll be in touch about our first… Engagement," She said, her voice light and teasing. "I'm looking forward to it." She touched her cheek with one hand, eyes glittering, "Why I feel like a little schoolgirl on her first date!"
With that, she turned and made her way to the door, her hips swaying slightly as she walked, fully aware of the effect she had on those around her. As she reached the door, she paused and glanced back at him, her eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light of the office.
"Goodnight, Sirius," She purred, her tone holding a note of promise. "Sweet dreams."
And then she was gone, the door clicking shut softly behind her, only the scent of her perfume remained.
Sirius eyed his artifacts, frowning at their stillness. She hadn't lied, at least not obviously. The things could be fooled if there was enough truth in a lie. But one artifact was glowing, only to his eyes.
With a wave of his wand, the air in the office was sucked out, more pushing in to replace it, throwing his parchments all over the place. But it had been necessary.
According to his artifacts, she was steeped in magic. Blood magic. Her perfume was likely altered with something to sway lesser minds. That was only his guess however. It could be something else, his artifacts didn't specify what, only that it was.
For a moment, Sirius remained seated, staring at the door with a contemplative expression. His mind was already racing, considering the implications of their conversation and what her true motives might be. Isabella Zabini was dangerous - of that he had no doubt. But she was also a valuable ally, at least for the time being. And in this game, he needed all the allies he could get.
But he would be a fool to trust her completely - especially now that he realized her charms weren't entirely unaided. No, trust wasn't part of the equation. He'd play along with her game, but he'd do so on his terms. The three dates she'd requested were a small price to pay to keep her close, to watch her, and to learn what she was really after.
As for the second half of her price - the secret favor she'd hinted at - Sirius wasn't too worried. Not yet, anyway. Whatever it was, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he had more pressing concerns.
And there was always the choice to just say no.
He rose from his chair, stretching his arms above his head to relieve the tension that had settled in his shoulders. The night was late, and despite the unexpected visit, there was still work to be done.
As he sat back down and picked up his quill, his thoughts were already shifting back to his plans, his mind working through the possibilities, the contingencies. He would use Isabella, just as she intended to use him, and when the time came, he'd ensure that it was he who came out on top.
The smile on his lips lingered as he resumed his work, the steady scratch of the quill the only sound in the otherwise silent office. Outside, the magical view of Hogwarts remained peaceful, a contrast to the brewing storm in the world of wizarding politics.
And somewhere in the night, Isabella Zabini was likely smiling too, believing she had just set the stage for something grand.
But Sirius Black had never been one to follow someone else's script. He was writing his own, and in this story, he intended to be the one in control.
The game was on.
There could only be one winner.
----------------------------------------
Two days later,
Sirius strode purposefully into the grand, imposing halls of Gringotts, flanked by Barty Crouch Sr, who wore a perpetual scowl as though the very air of the place offended him. The goblins, for their part, eyed them both with thinly veiled suspicion, their sharp eyes glinting like the gold they so zealously guarded. The atmosphere was charged, a sense of ancient, simmering tension hanging in the air, as it always did when wizards and goblins met to discuss matters of importance.
Sirius had been forced to push quite hard to get this meeting so quickly. Usually any diplomatic efforts between the Goblin nation and Wizarding Britain could take weeks to just set up the meeting to discuss where the first meeting would take place.
He'd spoiled that by just agreeing to meet at Gringotts. He didn't need a power play of home turf to get ahead, like other, weaker Ministers.
Gringotts was a fortress as much as a bank, its labyrinthine corridors and heavily warded vaults a testament to the goblins' craftsmanship as well as their mistrust of their wizarding clients. Sirius couldn't help but feel that they only harmed themselves with their attitude, even more progressive wizards refusing to back them due to their universal reputation as nasty little blighters.
Barty, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his disdain. "This is absurd," He muttered under his breath, his voice laced with irritation. "We should have summoned them to the Ministry. Making the Minister of Magic and the Head of the Department of International Cooperation come to them is a disgrace."
Sirius should have taken the Goblin liaison, but they really hated that guy currently, so he'd felt Barty was a good minion for him to play good cop bad cop with.
And he needed to get some use wrung out of the guy before he hung him out to dry. He hadn't forgotten Barty's part in his imprisonment. He'd just delayed the revenge due to practicality.
Sirius smirked, inwardly imagining Barty's comeuppance, though he kept his gaze forward, giving no clue to his compatriot. "Sometimes, Barty, it's better to come to the negotiating table on their terms. Makes them feel like they have the upper hand. Besides, this way we can gauge their reaction more closely." And without ten ministry busybodies trying to poke their overly large noses in.
"Or we can waste our time pandering to a bunch of greedy, arrogant -" Barty's tirade was cut short as they approached a set of ornate double doors, guarded by two goblins who barely reached Sirius' waist but carried themselves with a dangerous air.
The goblins exchanged a glance, then one of them pushed the doors open, revealing a dimly lit conference room beyond. Several goblins were already seated around the table, their expressions a mixture of boredom and disdain. As Sirius and Barty entered, the goblins didn't bother to stand or greet them - they merely stared, as if appraising how much trouble they were about to cause.
"What does the Ministry want this time?" One of the goblins sneered, his voice high-pitched and grating. He was shorter than the others, with sharp, pointed features and a permanent scowl etched into his face. Sirius recognized him as Ragnok, one of the more influential middle manager goblins within Gringotts, known for his particular dislike of wizards.
Not that it was odd for goblins to be that way. Ragnok simply took it to the next level. Including a cold case in the Auror office that had him as a suspect in two different murders of wizards.
So a nice chap to negotiate with.
Sirius smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "We've come to discuss a proposal," He began, his tone smooth and diplomatic. He took a seat at the table, ignoring the goblins' rudeness, and gestured for Barty to do the same. Barty sat down with a huff, clearly unhappy about being here, but Sirius was undeterred.
"We all know that Azkaban is… An institution with a troubled history," Sirius continued, choosing his words carefully. "It's served its purpose, but with the recent issues, it's clear that a change is needed. A new prison - one that is secure, hidden, and capable of handling the most dangerous magical criminals - is what I'm proposing."
The sooner they stopped feeding Dementors, the better. And he'd personally cast the damn Fiendfyre to eradicate that island once they no longer needed it.
The goblins exchanged looks, their eyes narrowing as they listened. Ragnok snorted derisively. "A new prison? And you expect us to care about this, why, exactly?"
Sirius leaned forward slightly, his smile never wavering. "Because I'm offering you the chance to be more than just bankers. You could be the architects and jailers of this new facility, which I propose to be built underground, deep within the earth - where goblin magic is at its strongest."
The goblins' interest was piqued, though they tried to hide it behind their sneers. "Underground, you say?" another goblin, slightly taller and more imposing, spoke up. "And what makes you think we would want to involve ourselves in your affairs? We have no interest in guarding your criminals."
"Ah, but you would be more than mere jailers," Sirius replied smoothly. "The Ministry has always placed limits on goblin magic, through various treaties and laws, restricting your use of wards and enchantments that are your birthright. But I'm willing to negotiate a deal where those restrictions would be loosened - specifically for this new prison… And perhaps your warrens? You would be allowed to set up wards that no wizard can interfere with - the wards that prevent any wizard magic. The Ministry would pay for the upkeep of the prisoners, and you would have full control over their containment." He titled his head slightly, his smile a bit colder, "While following the law of course on their treatment."
The goblins sat up a little straighter, though their expressions remained skeptical. Sirius could see the wheels turning in their minds. He had them hooked on the possibilities, but they were far from reeled in. The goblins were nothing if not shrewd negotiators, and he knew they would push back hard before they even considered agreeing.
Ragnok's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And what guarantees do we have that the Ministry wouldn't interfere in our affairs? You wizards have a long history of going back on your word."
"That's why I propose that the goblins who run this prison be entirely separate from those who deal with wizards in any capacity," Sirius said. "No goblin who interacts with the surface world, with wizards, will be involved. The jailers will be those who prefer the depths, who live and work beneath the earth. This way, there's no chance of corruption or undue influence from either side."
At this, the goblins' expressions darkened. They exchanged angry mutters, clearly insulted by the implication that they could be corrupted or swayed. Sirius knew he was treading on thin ice, but he had to drive the point home. They had to believe that this arrangement would be both in their control and beyond reproach.
Ragnok's voice was low and dangerous as he leaned forward. "You dare suggest that we could be corrupted? That our kind could be bought or swayed like common wizards?"
You basically live for gold, don't kid yourselves… Hence why he'd make it more difficult by requiring the isolation of the jail. Most goblins never as much as saw a wizard to begin with, those types would be suitable for the job.
Barty, who had been simmering with barely contained irritation, seized the opportunity to interject. "You lot wouldn't be the first to take a bribe," He said with a sneer. "But make no mistake - this deal is your chance to prove otherwise. Or would you rather we continue using Azkaban, and you can sit here, where the only thing goblins are good for is counting galleons?"
The goblins bristled at Barty's words, several of them looking ready to leap across the table. Sirius shot Barty a warning glance, but the older man merely crossed his arms and glared at the goblins, clearly uninterested in smoothing over the tension.
Sirius quickly stepped in, raising a hand to forestall any further escalation. "Gentlebeings," he said, his tone calm and measured. "Let's not allow emotions to cloud our judgment. The point is that this is an opportunity - a unique one - for your kind to demonstrate your unmatched skills in a new arena. The wards you could place, the enchantments, the security measures - none of it could be replicated by wizard magic. It would be entirely in your hands. And if successful, we can revisit other… Requests. Perhaps even wand rights."
Yeah, no. But it's a nice carrot to dangle…
The prisoners would of course be under Goblin dominion if they went to war again, but the likelihood of that was extremely low. It wasn't well known to the general public, but the goblin nation was essentially broken, pushed under so many magically binding laws and contracts signed during their defeats, that they could no longer win or even attempt to in another rebellion.
Hence why even Voldemort taking over got not a peep from the goblins. Either way, the prisoners would also be criminals, so the risk of being chopped up by goblins in the event of war between nations, was still preferable to using Dementors as prison guards.
At his offer, the room fell silent. The goblins stared at Sirius, a mix of shock and suspicion on their faces. Wand rights had always been a sore point between goblins and wizards - a demand that had been consistently denied, but never fully forgotten. Sirius had dangled a tantalizing carrot in front of them, one that they couldn't ignore, even if they likely knew it would never materialize.
Ragnok's eyes narrowed, his voice cold. "And why should we believe that you would ever follow through on such a promise? Wizards have always kept us from wielding wands, fearing what we might do if we had the same power as you."
Barty scoffed, leaning forward aggressively. "You think we'd just hand you wands and let you have free rein? Don't be ridiculous. This is about the prison. Prove you can deliver, and maybe, just maybe, we'll entertain the thought. But until then, don't get ahead of yourselves."
Unexpectedly helpful there Barty, thank you.
Sirius held up a hand to silence Barty, his smile turning icy as he faced the goblins. "What Barty means is that such discussions would be pointless if we can't even get this project off the ground. Show us what you can do, make this prison the most secure facility in the world, and then we'll talk about other matters. Until then, let's focus on the task at hand."
The goblins muttered among themselves, clearly torn between their outrage and their intrigue. They knew this was an opportunity - one that didn't come around often - but they were too proud to admit it openly. Sirius watched them carefully, reading the subtle shifts in their expressions, the way they glanced at each other, the unspoken communication that passed between them.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ragnok looked up, his expression grudgingly agreeing, though still tinged with suspicion. "We'll need to consult with our superiors," He said slowly, his tone measured. "This is not a decision we can make on our own. We were only sent to listen, to see what nonsense the Ministry wanted to push on us this time. But this… This is different."
Sirius inclined his head, acknowledging their position. "Of course. Take your time. We'll return to the Ministry soon though, so if you can't come to a decision, we'll have to look elsewhere."
The goblins rose from the table, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they were still processing what had just been proposed. Sirius and Barty watched as the goblins filed out of the room, their muttering growing louder as they moved into the hallway. The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving the two wizards alone in the dimly lit conference room.
Barty was the first to break the silence, his voice dripping with disdain. "Consult with their superiors? What a load of rubbish. They're just trying to drag this out to see if they can squeeze more concessions out of us."
Sirius leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He could feel the tension in his shoulders, the strain of holding the delicate balance between placating the goblins and keeping Barty's temper in check. "That may be true," He admitted, his voice calm, "but that's how negotiations work, especially with goblins. They won't make this easy, but we have them hooked."
Barty snorted, clearly unimpressed. "You're too soft on them. We should be dictating terms, not bending over backward to make them feel special."
Sirius shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "This isn't about making them feel special, Barty. It's about giving them something they want - something they can't get anywhere else. We need their cooperation, and they need to feel like they're getting the better end of the deal. It's a game of pride and power, and if we push too hard, they'll walk away."
Barty frowned, still clearly unconvinced. "And what about this nonsense about wand rights? You're not seriously considering giving them that, are you?"
Sirius's expression hardened, the smile fading. "Of course not. But it's a carrot, Barty. Something to keep them interested, to make them think there's more to gain if they play along. The moment they believe they have something to lose, they'll start negotiating in earnest. For now, it's enough to keep them engaged."
Barty leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I still don't like it. Goblins with wands… It's a recipe for disaster."
"Which is why it won't happen," Sirius said firmly. "But they don't need to know that just yet. Let them think it's a possibility. It keeps them at the table, which is where we need them."
The two men lapsed into silence, the weight of the discussion hanging between them. Sirius knew that Barty's reservations were well-founded—goblins with wands could indeed upset the delicate balance of power in the wizarding world. But he also knew that the goblins were too savvy to fall for an empty promise. They would demand something real, something tangible, and Sirius had to be prepared to offer them enough to secure their cooperation without giving away too much.
As the minutes ticked by, the door finally swung open again, and the goblins returned, this time accompanied by a taller, older goblin who exuded an air of authority. His skin was more weathered, his eyes sharper and more calculating. Sirius immediately recognized him as Gringotts' Chief Director, Thurnok, a goblin known for his ruthless efficiency and shrewd bargaining skills.
He'd also ruled the goblin nation ever since tearing the head off the goblin who'd failed in the last rebellion, and had signed the treaty that effectively neutered them for eternity.
Thurnok took his seat at the head of the table, his eyes flicking between Sirius and Barty before settling on Sirius with a piercing gaze. "Minister Black," He said in a voice that was surprisingly deep and resonant for his stature. "I have been briefed on your proposal. I must admit, it is… Intriguing, if it's true."
Sirius inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the words, but he knew better than to relax. Thurnok wasn't the type to be easily swayed by flattery or vague promises. He would want specifics, and he would push hard for every advantage.
"I'm glad you think so, Chief Director," Sirius replied smoothly. "This project has the potential to benefit both our communities in ways that go beyond mere gold. It could redefine our relationship, establishing a new level of cooperation and mutual respect."
Well it could, but he found it unlikely. Really, he just wanted a nice safe place to stash criminals, and the goblins were his best bet.
Thurnok's expression remained impassive, but his eyes gleamed with interest. "And what, exactly, are you proposing? We've heard the outline, but the details… Those are what concern us."
Sirius nodded, expecting the question. "As I mentioned, the new prison would be built deep underground, in a location of your choosing. The goblins would be responsible for the construction and maintenance of the facility, as well as the imprisonment of the inmates. The Ministry would cover all costs, and in return, the goblins would have full autonomy over the prison's operations, within the bounds of our agreement and following wizarding law for the treatment of inmates."
Thurnok steepled his fingers, his gaze never leaving Sirius's. "And what safeguards would be in place to ensure that the Ministry doesn't interfere in our affairs? We have long memories, Minister. We remember all too well how wizards have reneged on their promises in the past."
"The wards," Sirius answered without hesitation. "The wards around the prison would be crafted by goblins, using goblin magic. No wizard could alter or break them. This would ensure that the prison remains under goblin control, without the possibility of interference from the Ministry. Additionally, the goblins assigned to the prison would be those who do not interact with the wizarding world, further ensuring that there is no conflict of interest."
They'd have to have clauses that allowed for the odd inspection of course, to ensure laws were followed and prisoners were not mistreated. Penalty clauses for both sides not doing their parts - something the goblin nation should be willing to sign, as they only ever got contracts with penalty clauses on their side of the field.
Thurnok considered this, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the proposal. "And what of the prisoners themselves? What assurances do we have that we would not pay if one of them dies on his own without our hand being involved, or what assurances do we have that the Ministry would not attempt to interfere with their sentences?"
"The prison would be designed to mitigate some of that, house elves could be utilized to ensure they are always fed and watered," Sirius replied confidently. "With your expertise in underground fortifications and wards, I have no doubt that it will be the most secure facility in the world either way so safety should be guaranteed. As for interference, the terms of the agreement would be legally binding, with severe penalties for any breach by the Ministry, or you. We have no interest in jeopardizing such an important partnership."
For Azkaban's destruction he was willing to go pretty far. It would be tough to get it through the Wizengamot, but if he could frame it properly, he should get away with it. No one really wanted to go to the Dementors after all.
The goblins muttered among themselves, their interest clearly piqued, but Thurnok's gaze remained sharp, scrutinizing Sirius for any sign of deception. "This is a bold proposal, Minister. But there is one more matter that must be addressed."
Sirius tensed slightly, though he kept his expression neutral. He had been expecting this. "And that is?"
"Wand rights," Thurnok said, his voice firm. "If we are to undertake this task, to build and maintain a prison that serves both our peoples, then we must be granted the right to carry wands. This is non-negotiable."
Barty's face darkened immediately, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Sirius cut him off with a raised hand. He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Thurnok's. "Chief Director, we are asking you to do something that has never been done before. If you succeed - if you can build this prison, secure it, and maintain it without fail - then we can revisit the matter of wand rights. But until then, it would be premature to make such a promise. Let's focus on the task at hand, and see where it leads us."
Thurnok's eyes narrowed, his gaze turning cold. "You ask much of us, Minister. And you offer little in return."
Sirius smiled faintly, a cold, calculated smile. "I offer the opportunity to prove your worth, to show the wizarding world what goblin magic can truly achieve. And I offer the chance to lay the groundwork for something greater - something that could change our relationship for the better. But that future depends on the success of this project. If you can deliver, then we can talk about wand rights and more. But until then, let's take it one step at a time."
Was it nice? Pushing them on this, knowing he would never allow them to begin another rebellion by setting them free? No, but he wasn't nice. This was necessary.
The room fell silent as Thurnok considered Sirius's words, his gaze never wavering. The goblins around him watched with bated breath, waiting for their leader's decision. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Thurnok inclined his head slightly, a gesture of reluctant acceptance.
"Very well, Minister Black," Thurnok said, his voice carefully controlled. "We will consider your proposal, and we will discuss the matter further. But know this - we will not be swayed by empty promises. If we agree to this, we expect results. And if we do not receive what we are owed, the consequences will be severe."
Empty threats, if you accept, you'll be bound, like we will, to see it through. But he could understand posturing in front of your minions.
Sirius met his gaze evenly, his expression unflinching. "You have my word, Chief Director. We will do this right, or not at all." Oscar goes to…
Thurnok rose from his seat, and the other goblins followed suit. "We will contact you with our decision," he said, his tone curt. "Until then, Minister, I bid you good day."
With that, the goblins filed out of the room, leaving Sirius and Barty alone once more. As the door closed behind them, Barty let out a long, frustrated sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.
"They're going to bleed us dry with demands, Minister," He muttered, rubbing his temples. "And if we give them an inch, they'll take a mile."
"Perhaps," Sirius replied quietly, still staring at the door. "But if we pull this off, Barty, we'll have secured something no one else has managed before. A prison that even the most dangerous wizards can't escape from - and without the soul sucking demons involved. And if that means dealing with the goblins on their terms, then so be it."
Barty looked at Sirius, his expression still doubtful, but there was a hint of grudging respect in his eyes. "You're playing a dangerous game. I hope you know what you're doing." He muttered grouchily.
His own reputation was tied to him now, having bet his career on Sirius. A bad bet all told because Sirius was going to ruin him, but it was nice that he was trying.
Sirius stood, straightening his robes. "Come on, Barty. Let's get back to the Ministry. There's a lot to prepare for, and we need to be ready for when the goblins come back with their terms."
Barty rose with a sigh, shaking his head as they made their way out of the conference room. "And what if they refuse? What if they decide it's not worth the risk?"
"They won't refuse," Sirius said confidently as they walked down the corridor. The marble floors echoed with their footsteps, a stark contrast to the silence they had left behind in the negotiation room. "The goblins are too pragmatic for that. They know the potential benefits of controlling a prison like this. It's more than just gold - it's about power, influence, and the ability to show the wizarding world that they are more than just bankers."
"And wand rights?" Barty pressed, his voice tinged with skepticism. "You don't actually think they'll let that go, do you?"
Sirius shook his head. "Of course not. But we don't have to deal with that right now. It's a long game, Barty. We give them a taste of what they want, but keep the rest just out of reach. As long as they believe there's something more to gain, they'll stay at the table. We just need to keep them focused on the immediate task - building the prison and proving they can manage it."
He wondered if Barty knew he had a privacy charm attached to his ring that kept a bubble around them and kept their discussion private, or if he truly always was this open in the middle of enemy territory. Even in the conference room Sirius had activated it when the goblins had left both times. You never knew, Sirius certainly would have placed listening charms if he was in their shoes.
As they reached the main hall of Gringotts, they were met by the same goblins who had escorted them in. The goblins nodded curtly, their expressions unreadable, and led the way back to the grand entrance.
The bustling streets of Diagon Alley greeted them, the familiar sounds of shopkeepers calling out to customers, the chatter of witches and wizards going about their business, and the distant hoot of an owl delivering a letter. But even in the midst of this lively scene, Sirius felt the weight of the negotiations bearing down on him. The goblins would take their time, deliberate carefully, and then come back with demands that would test the limits of what the Ministry was willing to concede.
As they walked down the steps, his Auror guard stepping into line, having been left outside Gringotts, Barty glanced at Sirius, his brow furrowed in thought. "What's your next move, then? How do you plan to get this through the Wizengamot? They're not going to like the idea of goblins having more control over anything, let alone a prison for wizards."
Sirius smiled faintly, his mind already working through the possibilities. "We present it as a necessary measure - Azkaban has failed with an innocent Pureblood heir of all things suffering under Dementors, and we need a new solution. We emphasize the security aspect, how the goblins' expertise in underground construction and wards will make this prison inescapable. Play up the fear of a mass breakout or the Dementors defecting, again, and how this is the only way to prevent it."
Barty grunted, still not entirely convinced but unable to argue with Sirius's logic. "And if they push back? If they start asking questions?"
"Then we answer them," Sirius said simply. "We give them enough to satisfy their curiosity, but not so much that they feel the need to interfere. It's all about balance, Barty. Keeping everyone happy enough to go along with the plan without giving away too much."
They continued down Diagon Alley, weaving through the crowds of witches and wizards. Sirius's mind was still turning over the details of the negotiations, considering the angles, the possible objections, and how to counter them. He knew the Wizengamot would be a challenge - they were a conservative, often stubborn group, and any proposal involving goblins was bound to raise eyebrows. But Sirius was confident that he could navigate those waters.
He would find a way.
Azkaban would cease to exist.
So he swore.
So mote it be.
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