Chapter 11: Who Dares, WinsChapter Text
On the Tuesday morning of their second week of classes, Skyla, Hermione and Neville sat around at breakfast discussing (like most of their year) the upcoming alteration to their timetable. Thankfully Hermione was constantly checking her timetable, as the alteration had been made without an announcement and had simply been applied to their original timetables through magic.
"Flying lessons?" Skyla asked curiously.
"Lesson - just the one, looks like our D.A.D.A was pushed back to Friday this week," Hermione clarified.
"I thought first years couldn't fly?" Neville said, confused.
"They said we can't bring a broom; doesn't mean we can't fly under supervision though," Hermione shrugged slightly, "it's all in the wording, I suppose."
"But first years can't join the quidditch team?" Neville said, "I've heard that said before."
"It's not that first years aren't allowed, it's just that no-one ever gets past try-outs," Hermione corrected, "that's what Penelope, the prefect, was saying when I spoke to her the other day."
"Well of course; how are they meant to get good at flying if they aren't allowed a broom?" Skyla asked, shaking her head at the strange rule, "if they don't want first years to play then just don't let first years play…"
"Hey it wasn't me who made the rules," Hermione shrugged, "and as useful as flying sounds, I don't think it's going to be for me."
"You haven't even tried it yet," Skyla pointed out.
"I-I don't like heights," Hermione admitted.
"I've never really tested whether I do or not," Skyla considered, "I guess we'll find out. I wish it wasn't with Slytherin though…"
The flying lessons had been divided into two groups; the first class would be with Gryffindor and Slytherin while the second class after lunch would be shared between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
"I wish they had given us some more warning," Hermione complained a few hours later as they trudged out onto the grounds, "I mean really, so last minute. Completely disorganised…"
Hermione might have been the only student who was annoyed at the sudden adjustment to their timetable as the rest of the year seemed to be overjoyed to be 'forced' outside to fly around in the sky. Skyla had to admit that it sounded quite exciting; as they approached the designated area of the grounds where they were to meet 'Madam Hooch', she noticed that there were two rows of brooms lying on the ground parallel to each other. Understanding the idea immediately, the students all split off into two groups (naturally the Gryffindors on one side and the Slytherins on the other) and took their place next to a broom, waiting for the arrival of their teacher (though they didn't have to wait for long).
"Alright, alright, no-one in the air already? A good start," Madam Hooch, an older witch with short, grey hair called out as she briskly made her way towards the area, "fantastic. No rule breakers yet. Right! So, today you're going to be learning how to fly. I've been flying for many years now and if I can still do it at my age, you can too!"
Skyla had to admit that it was slightly reassuring to know that the greying Madam Hooch was perfectly confident in her ability to fly despite her advanced age, although she supposed that Hooch's older age was probably less indicative of health and fitness than it would be for a muggle, due to the impact of magic on her body.
"Flying can be quite dangerous," Hooch continued, "but if you follow the instructions CLEARLY we shan't have any problems. I suppose that's what we have a hospital wing for though," she added as an afterthought, which was not entirely reassuring to a few of the especially nervous students that were present.
"Now, stand next to your broom and extend your dominant hand out over the handle."
The students all quickly complied, although Skyla had to shuffle her broom to the side slightly with her foot, since Neville was standing to the left of his broom next to her, while Skyla needed to stand to her right, causing a slightly awkward shuffling to ensue.
"The joys of being left-handed," Skyla grumbled as she maneuvered, causing Neville to give her a sympathetic look as he tried to make some more space.
"On my command, you will hold your hand steady and say very clearly; 'up'! Ready…? Now!"
"Up!" The students all said the word as one group, however for most of the students; nothing happened.
"Up! Up! Up!" Various chanting broke out as the students attempted to brute-force their broom into complying when the first attempt failed.
Skyla looked around, surprised to see that she was one of the handful of people for which their broom had actually obeyed. She held the old, worn, wooden handle of the well-used broom in her left hand, while she looked around to see that Draco was holding his own broom with a smug look, Pansy, surprisingly, was holding hers (although she didn't even seem to be interested in it at all as she was too busy giggling about something with her friend) and even more surprisingly, Ron was holding his broom as though it were an everyday task for him (although Skyla vaguely remembered something that Ron had said about playing quidditch previously).
"Up!"
Hermione and Neville both seemed to be having difficulty and were growing frustrated; Neville's broom was vibrating violently on the ground as if it were having a seizure while Hermione's absolutely refused to move in the slightest.
"You need to have confidence!" Hooch explained loudly to those who were struggling, "even old brooms like these will still respond to your magic! If you don't put enough magic into it, it won't react!"
"How do we put magic into it?" Seamus asked from down the line with a huff of frustration, "should we use our wand?"
He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the broom, however Hooch quickly ran over to him, waving her hands in the air rapidly.
"Put that thing away!" she said crossly, "before you break something. These are old but it doesn't mean they are cheap."
Dean and Ron both snickered while Seamus put his wand away in a huff.
"You have to feel it!" she continued to the students as she strolled up and down, "be confident! Reach out with your magic and feel it, connect to it!"
"This is ridiculous," Hermione muttered, "it's completely illogical."
"Of course it is!" Hooch agreed as she walked past, making Hermione blush slightly at having been heard, "but since when has magic been logical? This is about emotion! Passion! The magic within!"
"Ridiculous…"
"She's right though," Skyla said as realisation dawned on her, "that's exactly how I do the thing with my ball of light. I just kind of… I think about it, and I want it to happen, and I believe in it, and it does. I kind of… 'will' it to happen."
"Ball of light?" Hooch asked curiously.
Skyla gave her a quick demonstration by making her small floating orb of light appear for a moment, before causing it to withdraw back into her hand.
"How marvelous!" Hooch commented, impressed, "yes indeed, flying follows many principles of wandless magic; it is a form of wandless magic itself, in a sense. It's different than casting a spell, but the core of it is the same; you're using your inner magical core to guide your intentions. Let your feelings and emotions be your wand, enforce your will upon the broom!"
After a few more minutes, Neville had managed to get his broom to hover at ankle height for a moment, while Hermione's broom still utterly refused to move at all. Annoyed, she was forced to simply bend down and pick it up as they were moving onto the next section of their lesson.
"It will make more sense to some of you once you're on the broom," Hooch said confidently, "you can really feel that connection to it then. To mount your broom, you simply stand beside it like so- and then you swing one leg over, like thus-"
The students mirrored her actions as they mounted their broom into a riding position, as if it were a horse or a motorbike. Some people were clearly holding their broom in place between their knees by force, however Skyla realised after a moment that her broom was quite happy to simply sit there and float in the air if she let it go; she was able to comfortably mount it that way and have one foot resting on the metal footrest to the side while her other was still planted on the ground. She had the slightly amusing thought that she felt rather like a motorbike rider waiting at a red light.
She rather liked this feeling.
"How are you doing that!?" Hermione asked, sounding almost a little hysterical.
Skyla just shrugged; she didn't really have an answer. She was just going by feeling, and it simply felt right.
"Now, when I give the command, you will kick off from the ground. Hard. You will hover in the air for a moment, then tip the nose of your broom forward to lower yourself back down to the ground. Ready?"
"Oh god…"
Skyla could hear Hermione stressing beside her, but she could offer little more than a few words of encouragement and a reassuring smile. Unlike Hermione, Skyla was actually becoming quite excited to take off and see what it felt like.
"One! Two-"
"What the-"
Skyla looked beside her to see that Neville was slowly rising into the air, well before Hooch had given the command to begin.
"You there, Mr… Longbottom!" Hooch called out as she tried to remember his name, "come down this instant!"
"I'm trying!"
Neville continued to rise of the broom's own accord, while desperately attempting to push the nose of the broom forward, to no avail. He was starting to approach dangerous heights as he continued to rise into the air, while Hooch tried to call out instructions to him.
Struck by a sudden inspiration, and perhaps feeling slightly reckless from the confidence her success so far had given her, Skyla make a snap decision and decided to kick off from the ground herself, rising up into the air. It took her a brief second to gain full control, however she quickly realised as she pulled back on the handle of the broom that it caused the broom to raise higher into the air. She pulled back a little further and continued to rapidly rise until she reached Neville's height, where the boy was beginning to enter into complete panic.
"Skyla!" he exclaimed wildly with fear, "what do I do!?"
"Here!"
Skyla reached over and took hold of his broom with her right hand, while keeping her left on the handle of her own. She pressed down firmly with both hands while willing the brooms to go down, and to her relief they did; both brooms lowered down to the ground in a controlled manner until they were both able to plant their feet down with a sigh of relief. Neville quickly hopped off his broom as soon as he could; his face completely white and his heart clearly racing as he let out a sigh of relief and dropped the broom immediately. Skyla looked over with amusement to see that Hermione had already gotten off her own broom and had put it down on the ground with a disapproving look.
"Not bad there, Miss Potter," Hooch commented, "good save of Mr Longbottom. Good control of your broom too, especially when trying to control two brooms at once. You been flying for long?"
"I've never flown before," Skyla admitted, "this is the first time I've properly seen a broom up close."
Hooch raised an eyebrow.
"I'll be seeing you on the quiddich pitch at some point," she said with a nod, "no doubt about that. Your father's input I daresay."
"Hagrid mentioned that he was a good flyer," Skyla said.
"A good flyer?" Hooch laughed, "might have been the best I've ever seen, and that's saying something."
"Right! As Miss Potter here just demonstrated, good flying is all about control!" She called out to the rest of the class as she continued the lesson, "let's give it a go together. Remember! Stay in control and just press the nose of your broom down if you get into any trouble. It's about having confidence! Ready? One-two-three!"
Skyla found it very strange as she rose into the air once again; it was incredibly easy to simply move up and down in the air and it felt no more difficult to her than it was to breathe. Instead, she found it much more difficult to simply keep herself in the boring rise and fall routine; she could feel the broom between her legs and the magic that it held itching to be released. Her own magic was responding to it and she felt the overwhelming desire to simply take off and go dashing around the grounds as fast as she could, but she knew she was not allowed.
Instead, she simply followed Hooch's instructions to the letter, as difficult as it was to contain herself, and eventually Hooch had managed to get most of the students flying around in a very slow, very boring circle (except for Hermione and Neville, who had both refused to even pick up their brooms again, no matter what Hooch said to try and encourage them).
"Excellent," Hooch called happily to the rest, "you've mastered the basics and that should get you out of trouble if you ever find yourself needing to fly. Of course, there is far more than that you can do on a broom, but that is something you'll have to discover another time."
Skyla returned to the ground with a sad sigh, forcing herself to dismount with disappointment at the uninteresting maneuvers they had been doing. The other students followed suit, except for Draco and Ron who remained in the air for some reason. After a moment, Skyla realised that, bizarrely, the two were having some kind of airborne argument and their voices were continuing to rise in volume and emotion.
"-about my mother!" Ron shouted.
"Well then you shut your fat mouth about my father!" Draco angrily shouted back.
"Who are you calling fat!?" Ron roared, before stunning everyone that was watching by lowering himself to his broom and charging directly at Draco. It had been the last thing that Draco had been expecting and he scrambled to maneuver out of the way in surprise, though he wasn't fast enough.
"AHHHH!"
Ron collided painfully with Draco and both boys went flying off their brooms. They were not overly high up so it wasn't a lethal height by any means, however they both landed with a solid enough thud that they let out matching cries of pain from the landing.
"What in Merlin's name were you thinking!?" Hooch yelled in shock, "ten, no- thirty, no- fifty points from Gryffindor!"
Hooch pulled out her wand and waved it, sending a strange, silvery substance flying through the air and darting off into the castle. Skyla watched it leave with immense fascination, however she was eventually distracted by the pained sounds of the boys as Hooch turned them both over to look at their injuries.
"Ah," Hooch said with a small tut as she looked at Draco, "broken wrist by the look of it."
"MY LEG!"
Ron yelled in shock as he looked down to see his ankle that was twisted awkwardly.
"Oh, not to worry about that," Hooch said airily as quickly cast a numbing charm on both boys, "Poppy will fix it all up in no time. I'd be more worried about-"
"What on EARTH is happening here?" Professor McGonagall called out in astonishment at the scene, "how did these two manage to injure themselves so severely? How high were they flying?"
"Not to due with height Minerva," Hooch said crossly, "but to do with recklessness. They decided to have an argument and instead of settling things like mature and responsible Hogwarts students, 'this' one thought he would rather have fisticuffs in the air and settle things like apes!"
McGonagall looked over to Ron, who was still staring with shock at his injured foot and not listening to a word that was being said.
"Why am I not surprised," McGonagall huffed, "fifty points from Gryffindor!"
"I already took fifty off him, Minerva," Hooch pointed out.
"I know."
Ron was finally distracted away from his foot and he gaped like a fish out of water at McGonagall's stern expression, which only seemed to annoy her further.
"And detention for a month," McGonagall added.
"WHAT? BUT HE-"
"And I'll be writing to your family about your poor performances as-well," McGonagall said sternly, "I'm disappointed on behalf of Percy. He'll be devastated to hear about this. You bring shame to your family with your actions."
"NO BUT MALFOY-"
"One more word, and we'll be consulting with the headmaster," McGonagall said in growing anger, "zip it, Mr Weasley."
Ron struggled internally with himself for a moment, but he eventually burst out;
"MALFOY INSULTED MY MOTHER!"
McGonagall peered down at Ron.
"I've known Molly for a very long time. Considerably longer than even you have," she pointed out, "and she's a wonderful woman is she not?"
"Well, yeah, she's my mum," Ron said, with confusion.
"Then why do you think that you need to knock someone off their broom for insults that you know aren't true? Instead of reporting it to Madam Hooch, who would have likely deducted points from Slytherin and kept Mr Malfoy on the ground for the rest of the day-"
"That would have been appropriate," Hooch agreed.
"-instead you are now facing potential suspension for assaulting another student," McGonagall said gravely, "once Mr Malfoy's father hears of this-"
"-Oh he will," Draco commented darkly as he looked at his swollen wrist, "you just wait Weasley…"
"-then your punishment may end up out of my hands," McGonagall said darkly, "I suggest that you keep quiet, do as your told and take the punishment handed out to you without complaint, lest you face a much worse fate."
Ron looked utterly devastated as he stared at McGonagall with tears in his eyes.
"Now, let's get you two to the hospital wing," she said with finality, "I need a volunteer to assist Mr Weasley."
She looked around to the gathered students, all of whom took several steps back, almost too afraid of the harsh punishments to even be in the same location as Ron. Even Dean and Seamus seemed to casually sink to the back of the crowd, distancing themselves from the boy who had just managed to lose a massive chunk of points for Gryffindor once again.
Ron began to sob into his hands, which was quite uncomfortable for all to witness. Skyla noticed Lavender and Parvati whispering together with amusement on their faces, which caused her to flare in anger.
"Fine, I'll do it."
Hermione and Neville (and most of the other students) turned with shock to see that Skyla had stepped forward with a determined expression. McGonagall nodded at her and Skyla walked over to Ron, attempting to figure out the best way to get him on his feet. In the end, she simply crouched down and offered her arm, doing her best to steady the boy as he used her arm for support to rise up onto one leg, his injured foot hovering above the ground.
"Put your arm around my shoulder," Skyla instructed, and she tried desperately to hold back a flinch as his arm wrapped around her shoulder for support while he tried to keep his weight off his injured leg. She half expected him to make some kind of comment, but he seemed too stunned to come up with anything.
"I thought you would have stuck with Granger," Ron said quietly as they hobbled towards the hospital wing with Professor McGonagall and Draco trailing behind them.
"Well, it wasn't like anyone else was offering to help you," Skyla said through pursed lips, "not even your so called 'friends'. And just to be clear, I think what you did was incredibly stupid-"
Ron scoffed, "yeah that's me. Stupid Ron."
Skyla rolled her eyes slightly, "-but, we're meant to be a team, right? All of us, and I don't just mean in Gryffindor but in Hogwarts. We have this beautiful magical world and it seems that all anyone wants to do is divide and fight over it. Magical or muggle, Gryffindor or Slytherin, you and Hermione. I'm already starting to get sick of it, none of you seem to appreciate any of the wonderful things that you have here."
Ron could said nothing to that and simply stared at the ground in deep thought as they walked. Eventually, they made it to the hospital wing and Skyla was relieved when Madam Pomfrey took over from her, escorting Ron to a nearby bed. Skyla shuddered slightly as Ron's arm was removed from around her shoulders; it had been an incredibly uncomfortable sensation that she wished to forget had ever happened.
With Ron taken care off, Skyla felt a final shiver run through her body and turned to depart, halfheartedly considering going for a shower.
"A moment, Potter," McGonagall said, getting her attention just as she was about to leave.
"Yes, Professor?"
"That was very wise, what you said to Ronald," McGonagall said quietly, "profound beyond your years. I know many a grown witch and wizard who could take a lesson from that."
Skyla simply shrugged, "it just makes sense doesn't it? We're all in this together. I don't want to see more people fighting and dividing over stupid things that I don't even understand. I don't see why we can't all just get along?"
McGonagall, surprisingly, smiled at her words.
"Well, I think your maturity and good nature is admirable Miss Potter," she said warmly, "take… fifty points for Gryffindor."
"Fifty!?" Skyla exclaimed, but McGonagall quickly hushed her.
"I think it's well earned, don't you?" she said with a slight wink, "just don't tell anyone about it. It was meant to be a punishment but if Mr Weasley here doesn't know Gryffindor got the points back, then, the lesson still stands does it not? I'd really rather not lose again to Severus this year if we can help it…"
Skyla ogled McGonagall for a moment, before laughing slightly, "yes, Professor. Not a word."
"Good girl."
Shaking her head slightly, Skyla departed the hospital wing and skipped back to Hermione and Neville, with a satisfied smile on her face. She might not have been able to tell anyone about the regained points (some of them at least), but knowing that she had the admiration of her Head of House was satisfying enough on its own.
***************
In the foyer of Gringotts bank, Sirius stared intently at the familiar looking goblin before him. It was strange to be looking at him once again after so many years; how many times had Sirius seen Krylk? After James' father had passed away and James had taken control of the accounts in his teen years, they had both journeyed down to the vaults below on a regular basis to withdraw money, at James' insistence. Sirius hadn't needed to worry about money at all while he was part of the Black family, but after he had ran away from home, he had quickly begun to realise the value of gold (or more specifically, what happened when you didn't have it). James had openly shared anything with Sirius for years and that included his gold, yet Sirius had always been reserved with what he had taken and anything that he did take, he fully intended to pay back one day with interest.
He could no longer pay James back the gold directly, yet he could do the next best thing.
"This way."
Krylk, or to those who dared; Bleeding Eyes, led Sirius into a side room with an escort of security goblins, where there was a simple desk and two chairs waiting. The escort began to surround Sirius threateningly, however Bleeding Eyes held up his hand, causing them to stop.
"Leave us."
The security detail looked at each other for a moment, before shrugging and departing back out into the bank. Within Gringotts, rank was highly respected and if a goblin was told to do something by someone higher than him; he did it, without question. Bleeding Eyes waited until the last security guard had left, before he indicated to the two seats and sat down across from Sirius, staring at him intently.
"I've been trying to think of who might enter Gringotts under polyjuice and ask about the Potter accounts," Bleeding Eyes mused thoughtfully, baring his long sharp teeth towards an unflinching Sirius.
"And what did you determine?" Sirius asked, refusing to let any form of intimidation show on his face.
"Well the first thought was that of the Dark Lord," Bleeding Eyes admitted, "but I do not believe he would ever use polyjuice. Not his 'style', as they say. I suspect that if he ever came to Gringotts, we would know about it."
"The Dark Lord is dead," Sirius pointed out, "he won't be coming any time soon."
"Is that so?" Bleeding Eyes asked with amusement in his voice, "at any rate, I considered the possibility of it being one of his followers, someone with a grudge against the Potters or perhaps a simple thief, yet none of those options made sense either. It's too… bold, too… reckless."
"I feel like you have a point to be made, Bleeding Eyes," Sirius said pointedly.
"Yes…" Bleeding Eyes observed him carefully, "I could think of only one who would be both desperate enough, and foolish enough, to attempt to bribe a Gringotts goblin with something so tempting as the Ministry's downfall in order to gain an audience with me, Sirius Black."
"I offer nothing but the truth," Sirius said.
"That remains to be seen," Bleeding Eyes said knowingly, "as does your fate. Your life hangs in the balance here. If you are wrong-"
"I am very aware of what happens to those who mislead the goblins," Sirius nodded.
"So tell me then, what is it that brought one of the most wanted men into the heart of the magical community?"
Sirius placed the stone pensieve (itself no easy task for him to have acquired) down onto the desk and withdrew two vials that contained the wispy silver strands of two memories. He poured the first one into the bowl and pushed it towards Bleeding Eyes, who eyed him for a moment before slowly leaning over the bowl and submerging his face down into the deep basin that was now filled with a strange, ethereal substance made from the silver, shimmering strands of a memory.
***************
"Hagrid," Sirius said in a trembling voice, "she… she has no-one else… I'm her godfather… I promised them I would look after her…"
"You gotta trust Dumbledore," Hagrid said softly, "he knows what to do with her. What do you know about lookin' after a kid? Think about what's best for her."
Sirius laughed at that; Hagrid did have a point there. He turned the small girl he was holding around in his hands to look at her for a moment, his eyes filled with compassionate love for the now orphaned child of his best friend.
"I'll see you soon kiddo," he said with a teary laugh, "I just gotta do something important first and then I'll be back. Promise."
He reluctantly handed her over to the large man, who wrapped her in a rather fluffy blanket. He watched the exhausted and confused girl begin to immediately fall asleep at the warmth and comfort for a moment, before he sniffed and turned to leave.
"Oh, Sirius?" Hagrid called out, "you don't want your bike back? You might need it."
"You keep it," Sirius said with a shake of his head, "without them, well… I don't think I'll be riding it much anymore. It won't feel the same."
He met Hagrid's sad eyes for a moment before walking out to the edge of the property and turning on the spot, vanishing from view.
He reappeared on a quiet street in the suburbs of London and looked around briefly before suddenly spinning on the spot and shifting down into his animagus form of a large black dog. Sniffing the air intently, he began to run; sniffing here and there as he went. He knew Peter's smell, and all it would take was one tiny whiff to track the man.
Besides, he had a feeling already that he knew where Peter might be.
The scene shifted and Sirius was casually stepping through the front door of a small muggle bakery,
approaching a customer who was leaning on the front counter, finishing off a sugary looking donut as he chatted with the baker.
"Wormtail," Sirius growled in Peter's ear, "you didn't run."
"Why would I run, Sirius?" Peter asked quietly, turning around to face him.
"You know what you did. Don't deny it. You also knew I would track you to the ends of the earth," Sirius sneered, "so you didn't run and you came here instead. What's the play? You plan to beg me for your life, is that it? Appeal to my 'better nature' for the sake of our old friendship?"
"Are you going to do this right here, Sirius? In front of him?"
Peter indicated with his head towards the muggle baker who was watching them both with growing concern.
Sirius growled in annoyance, "get outside. Now."
He escorted Peter outside into the dark, where a handful of streetlights provided a dim glow to the area. He roughly shoved Peter out of view of the muggle and up against the wall, while pointing his wand directly at Peter's heart.
"Why did you do it?" Sirius couldn't help but ask with sorrow in his voice, "was it… because of the pranks and the jokes? Was it just fear and cowardice? Why? We loved you like a brother, Pete. They loved you."
Peter openly laughed at his questions with no sign of fear or concern for Sirius' wand that was pointed at him.
"Do you think me so petty, Padfoot?" Peter asked, "do you think I would betray them for such mundane reasons?"
"THEN WHY!?"
"To do what you were never brave enough to do!" Peter spat angrily as he ripped the sleeve off his left arm, revealing the black, iconic magical brand of the 'Dark Mark' on his inner forearm. The terrifying image of the human skull with a serpent's tongue that inspired fear upon all who witnessed it, almost glowed in the dark as the black 'ink' stood out in stark contrast to Peter's pale skin. What the ink was, no-one really knew; some theorised that it was the very blood of the owner, since their hearts must have turned black to join Voldemort's inner circle.
"You… you joined his inner circle…? You serve him…?"
"No, Padfoot," Peter said bitterly, "I serve us. I serve all of us! You don't understand the power that he wields, not truly. He can change this world. He WILL change this world, and upon its rightful throne will sit the witches and the wizards of this world, as is our place!"
"But, Pete," Sirius said with confusion, "we used to run around in the muggle world all the time! You know better than anyone that they are no different than us!"
"No, that's what you and James believed," Peter spat, "and Remus too. Did you ever stop to think what I cared about? No, I was just the tag along, what would I know. Muggles might be people like us, but their rightful place is still below us. We have been blessed with the power of magic; there's a reason we live longer and become smarter and stronger; we were meant to rule! With the Dark Lord at the helm, we will no longer need to hide away in the corners of the world, denying what we are!"
"You're delusional!" Sirius exclaimed, "you have lost your mind if you think he had any intention of sharing power with anyone!"
"He has a plan, Padfoot," Peter said seriously, "he will see it done. It's not too late, you can join us!"
Sirius laughed with mirth in his voice.
"Your master is dead," he spat with venom, "and his plans along with him. Good riddance."
Peter looked down to the magical brand on his arm which was still a solid, unyielding black, even though it was not moving along his skin as it usually did.
"He is not dead," Peter said curiously, "yet, you clearly believe he is."
"I saw his body with my own two eyes," Sirius scoffed, "he is dead."
"Then he was right," Peter said with widening eyes, "he was actually right. He has ascended!"
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me that he was beyond death," Peter said excitedly, "and you say he is dead, but he isn't. I feel his presence, this mark ties me to him! He is alive! He is alive and everything will go ahead as planned!"
"He is dead, and you're just as insane as he was," Sirius said with bitter disappointment as he raised his wand.
"Wait!" Peter said suddenly, "this is important! We can be the ones to find him again, Sirius! We would be forever in his favour! Think about it, we-"
"I can't believe I was so wrong," Sirius said sadly, causing Peter to fall silent at his words.
"You didn't betray me or Remus. You didn't even betray Lily and James."
Peter stared at him blankly.
"You betrayed yourself. AVADA KE-"
"Stupefy!"
Sirius' killing curse was interrupted as a stunner suddenly came flying towards him from behind. He only barely managed to dodge the surprise spell by throwing himself to the side and rolling painfully onto the concrete gutter. Peter casually stepped to the side of the spell and watched on as Sirius scrambled to his feet, raising his wand towards his assailants; six of them, all wearing black hoods that hid their faces.
"Who are you?" He shouted, but got no response other than the pointed ends of six raised wands.
"Stupefy!"
Sirius seethed with rage as he battled his attackers and attempted to deflect and parry their oncoming spells. Unfortunately, they were all moving with incredible finesse and experience, flicking a variety of incapacitating spells in his direction. Sirius was an excellent duelist, yet even he couldn't take on these apparent veterans by himself and the use of non-lethal spells concerned him far more than if they had of been trying to kill him.
He decided to make a hasty retreat, backing up as he rapidly deflected the oncoming barrage.
"This isn't over, Peter!" He shouted, "I made a promise! We all did!"
Peter simply gave him a sad look as two of the hooded combatants stopped firing off spells and backed away, lowering their hoods.
The last thing that Sirius saw before he apparated away was the smug looking face of Lucius Malfoy as he placed a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder, and the calculating gaze of Narcissa Malfoy as she appraised Sirius from afar. He met her sharp blue eyes for a brief moment as he twisted away into nothingness, and the memory faded from view.
***************
Bleeding Eyes withdrew his face from the bowl with an intense expression as he tried to put all of the pieces together from what he had just seen.
"That's a very different set of events than what I have been told," Bleeding Eyes said slowly, "I have been told that you murdered Peter in broad daylight and killed a dozen or so muggles at the same time. There were eye-witness accounts and everything."
"Before long, that was the official story that was being pumped through the Daily Telegraph," Sirius scoffed, "supported by none other than the auror's office itself. I was confused at the time, but later I found out that the Malfoys spent a ridiculous amount of money bribing people left and right, pulling in all the favours that they could. They went to insane lengths to clear Peter's involvement and make him disappear from view, while being a 'hero' to the public."
"Why would they do that?" Bleeding Eyes asked curiously.
"That's the thousand galleon question isn't it? But it only gets stranger…"
Sirius poured the next memory into the basin and Bleeding Eyes gave him one final look before lowering his face once again.
***************
"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"
Sirius woofed and leapt up at the young boy who was coddling him at the park. It was slightly humiliating, but by this point, he was very used to being a dog and it was really the easiest way to get food, after all.
As he wolfed down the treats that the boy had given to him, something caught his very sensitive ears from quite far away.
"-muggles of course, like after that mess with Black-"
He quickly turned his head in the direction of the voice and found it; two wizards (unmistakable due to their horrendously poor excuses for muggle disguises) were walking along the far side of the park, chatting to each other.
"Hey, come back-"
Sirius took off a run, bounding away across the park and leaving both the treats and the disappointed boy behind. He listened in to their conversation as he got closer, and carefully followed them from a safe distance as they walked in the direction of what could only be the Ministry of Magic's staff entrance.
"Scrimgeour has been breathing down our necks," one of the wizards was saying with a shake of his head, "trying to make sure we keep pushing this story, which leaves no doubt in my mind that it's bullshit; thirteen muggles dead by Black's hand and a full tactical unit sent out, yet no-one in the department can say they were part of it? There's no log of the deployment? No invoices, tax receipts, nothing? Not a single auror I've interviewed knows anything about-"
"Shut up, you idiot! Do you want to get us both fired?" the second wizard said frantically as he looked around in a panic, though he only saw a stray dog in the distance, "I like my job, thanks, and I'd like to keep it."
"We're journalists," the first wizard said with a frown, "or at least, we're meant to be. These day's we're just the D.M.L.E's mouthpiece. Can't even look my own wife in the eye anymore."
"I can," the second wizard huffed, "you keep pushing this and you'll find yourself out on the street. See if you can look her in the eye then."
"The real thing that gets to me," the first wizard continued, ignoring the complaints, "is IF Black didn't kill them muggles… then just who the hell did? I saw the photographs of the bodies, those deaths were real…"
"You're crossing a line there," the second wizard said with finality, "and I'm not talking about this anymore. It was Black, and that's that."
The two said nothing more as they continued on, leaving a very curious dog standing behind them in their wake.
***************
Bleeding Eyes returned his face from the bowl once again, staring intently at Sirius.
"So," he began slowly, "you are saying that-"
"Lucius tried to capture me using Peter as bait," Sirius said, "though I don't know why. But, he failed, so instead, he bribed or coerced Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Aurors Office at the time, to write up a bogus report and push it through the Daily Prophet a day later after thirteen muggles mysteriously turned up dead. All it took was one word of blame and the public turned their wands on me at every corner. No-one outside the Ministry ever questioned it, and those that did found themselves without a job real fast. People forgot about it pretty quick after Voldemort's defeat was made public, and I had no way to come forward and have a legitimate trial without being killed on sight."
"Wait," Bleeding Eyes said with a frown, "you're saying that the Ministry covered up the deaths of those muggles and pinned them on you?"
"This is where I'm confused," Sirius admitted, "I don't know whether those muggles were killed purely to frame me, or whether those muggles were killed for something else and I was a convenient scapegoat."
"Either way that would have to mean that-"
Realisation washed over Bleeding Eyes and he stared at Sirius intently.
"-it would mean that the Ministry was likely the one responsible for the murder, and cover up, of those thirteen muggles. Or at least, someone within it."
"Exactly."
"That's what you want to take to the Gringotts board," he realised, "that's your bargaining chip."
"That's my plan."
"Why did they do all of this, though?" Bleeding Eyes asked curiously, "they went to a lot of effort to pin you with it. Why?"
"To protect Peter," Sirius said with a frown, "but that's what I don't understand; why was he so important? Even after Voldemort was dead, they still protected him. Lucius, of all people protected him. He didn't even like him!"
"Hm…" Bleeding Eyes sat back and considered the situation as if he were looking at a chess board, "so Peter is strategically important. Why? Not because of what he can do, he is not known to be special or gifted. Not because of who he is, he is no-one, he has no vaults, no gold…"
Bleeding Eyes thought deeply for a moment longer before coming to his conclusion.
"... he must have something. Something important."
Sirius nodded, "I did think about that. He might have something that was important enough for Voldemort to give Lucius orders to protect him before he died. Something important enough that Lucius would even follow the orders after Voldemort's death."
"I wonder about that," Bleeding Eyes said thoughtfully, "the Dark Lord did not need other people to protect things for him. He was adept enough to create impenetrable security on any object if he so desired."
Sirius nodded in agreement, it made sense.
"Peter must have been important to him in some other way," Bleeding Eyes said with narrowed eyes, "he must have been important to Voldemort's plans in some manner."
"It's true that Peter said something about- he said something about a plan, didn't he? Something about Voldemort being beyond death and that his plan will go ahead?"
The two met eyes over the table as the realisation dawned on both of them.
"If he's not actually dead-"
"-then he'll come back and finish what he started."
"Tell me, Sirius," Bleeding Eyes asked, "why haven't you come to us sooner?"
"I might trust you," Sirius said, "but I don't trust Gringotts. You know better than me; if you have no gold, you are nothing to the board."
"That is certainly true."
"If I go to the board with nothing more than a few memories and a vague plan, then I would be worthless."
"And you are saying that you have more to offer than this?"
"I don't," Sirius admitted.
"But?"
"... she does."
Bleeding Eyes appraised Sirius with a calculating look.
"I know that my goddaughter is starting school this year," Sirius said knowingly, "the heiress to the Potter wealth and the one who lost the most out of anyone because of Peter. I can't do this without her resources, and I am putting all my faith in the hope that she will be willing to help find her parents' traitor and bring the corrupt Ministry to justice, with the Potter gold if required. I was unable to find her in the years that I spent looking, however now is the only time that I 'know' for a fact she is at Hogwarts. It's my only shot."
Bleeding Eyes sat back and thought deeply about the situation.
"If Gringotts launches a case against the Ministry on your behalf," he considered, "and it is successful, there's a good chance that people will pull their assets from the Ministry, maybe even sell at extraordinarily low prices."
"So?" Sirius asked.
"So…" Bleeding Eyes said slowly, with his eyes starting to light up, "that means that Gringotts may be able to get their hands on a lot of assets that we've been trying to obtain for hundreds of years. It's no secret that Gringotts wants control of the alleys, but the Ministry blocks any and all of our attempts to purchase any land or businesses, they always have. We are not thieves or pillagers; we will not take anything by force, but, if young Skyla was able to strike a deal with Gringotts, she could purchase those suddenly available assets and hand them to Gringotts, in return for their aid in clearing your name and finding Peter… perhaps even work out a tidy 'finder's fee' for all involved…"
Sirius waited as Bleeding Eyes continued to calculate and consider.
"Of course, this all relies on you having the backing of your goddaughter," he pointed out, "you don't know her."
"You're right, I don't," Sirius agreed, "but I'm going to wager that she's been in here, and that you do. What do you think she would do?"
Bleeding Eyes smiled as he remembered the visits that Skyla had made to the bank.
"She looked into a vault of endless gold," he said with a toothy smile, "and she wasn't phased. Happy to give it all away. Yet she took one look at a piece of muggle rubbish that belonged to her mother and she cried her eyes out."
Sirius stared at Bleeding Eyes for a moment, his heart breaking slightly at the mental image of young Skyla crying over her mother's crazy experiments.
Bleeding Eyes analyised Sirius for a moment longer, before reaching down and pulling out a piece of parchment from the drawer of the desk.
"What is that for?" Sirius asked.
"I'm writing a letter," he said.
"To?"
"Skyla."
"You think I didn't try sending a letter to Hogwarts?" Sirius scoffed, "someone is blocking her mail."
"Oh, she'll get this one," Bleeding Eyes said mischievously, as he finished writing the short letter and stood up, "you don't mind waiting here, do you? I need to send this. You can think about how you're going to explain all of this to her."
Sirius paused and stared at him. Bleeding Eyes simply looked rather amused.
"You didn't think about how you were going to convince an eleven year old that you're not actually a mass murderer despite what the papers say, you didn't betray her parents, and that you need to use an extremely large amount of her gold and resources to attempt to bring down a corrupt Ministry? I have a feeling that she might be a little more emotional about all of that than a goblin like myself is."
Sirius stared down at the desk as he thought about it.
"I guess I'll leave you to it," Bleeding Eyes smirked as he departed.
"Ah shit," Sirius said to himself, "he's right. How the hell am I going to explain all of this? Hi Skyla, I'm your godfather, a notorious mass murderer. By the way; wanna bring down the Ministry together? It will only cost all the gold in your vault."
He laughed at himself. It sounded ridiculous. He wondered whether Skyla would simply laugh him out of the bank entirely.
Well, at least he knew that wouldn't happen; if Skyla decided against helping, Sirius wouldn't even make it to the door before the goblins had his head on a pike to trade with the Ministry for a political favour.
If he was lucky.
***************
Skyla was sitting in her Transfiguration class that was just about to begin, when she reached down into her bag to pull out her textbook and her fingers closed around something rather unexpected.
"Oh?"
She withdrew her hand to find that she was holding a single piece of parchment that she did not remember putting into her bag all. She looked at it curiously and saw a handful of words on it that were most certainly not her own handwriting; it was far too neat.
"Skyla,
Matter of life and death. Cannot stress the importance enough. Come to the bank immediately. Tell no-one.
Bleeding Eyes."
"What do you have there?" Neville asked curiously.
"N-Nothing," she said quickly as she closed the letter and put it back in her bag, with her mind racing. What a bizarre letter; how did it even get in her bag? She supposed that Bleeding Eyes must have put some kind of emergency spell on it that allowed him to place items within it. Skyla didn't know much about magic yet, but even she knew that was no amateur spell; yet he hadn't charged her for it. This had to be just as important as he claimed, he wouldn't do it otherwise.
… it looked like she was going back to London a lot sooner than she had expected.