The Best Mistakes

Chapter 7: Along a Jagged Parrallel

The quiet engulfed them for a long time. Sirius dropped a kiss to the top of Harry's head and then pulled him to arm's length to study the red-rimmed eyes; his spectacles had fogged.

"Here..." Sirius slid them off, untucked his shirt and circled the corner over the lenses. Harry gave his eyes a quick rub and raked a hand through his hair though it didn't really help the disarray.

"Thanks," he murmured when Sirius offered the spectacles. He sniffed loudly as he hooked the arms over his ears. "What?" he asked as he found Sirius smiling.

Sirius shook his head. "Nothing... You're wearing swimming trunks down to your ankles, no sleeves and my father's best cloak."

Smiling faintly, Harry tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"Shall we return you to Hogwarts, then?" Sirius asked, grateful at least that he'd got a smile; even if it was a miniscule one.

"Guess so," Harry said as he drew the edges of the cloak together.

"Cold?"

Harry shook his head.

"Hm," Sirius grunted as they skirted round the rock, "this Crouch fellow must be mad to have thought a dip in the lake in January was a sound idea."

"The water wasn't cold," Harry said with a shrug. "And Dumbledore cast a charm over everyone watching."

Sirius plucked a particularly long branch out of his path and gestured for Harry to go first. It swished back into place a moment later. "Are you upset that you may be disqualified?" Sirius asked, uncertain in this new quiet.

"Not really," Harry said, ducking under another low branch. "I didn't want to be in the tournament in the first place."

That was certainly true enough... Harry's lament about his being forced into the contest had been one of his longest letters. "Are you... upset with me?" Sirius asked. Harry glanced at him and he was chewing a lip as he shook his head.

Sirius stopped walking and Harry stopped as well. "I'm not," he said quickly but Sirius' shoulders tensed. "It was a stupid thing to think anyway," Harry added, his face screwing up, "because you're the only person who's really ever--" He shrugged and looked away.

Sirius took his chin. "I'm not the only person who has ever loved you," he said, nudging Harry's face up. "And I am not the only person now. Hermione and Ron certainly do, though I doubt you would be able to force that confession out of Ron. All of the Weasleys do. And Dumbledore and Remus."

"Yeah, I know," Harry mumbled, his cheeks dark red. "I just meant..." With a vague gesture he gave up.

"Oy," Sirius said with a smile, "I'm pants at reading your mind, mate. Sit," he said. He plopped on a rotted tree trunk and jerked his head at the empty space beside him. "Easier to talk when you're sitting."

Harry sat, but if his taut lips were anything to go by, it was with great reluctance.

Sirius waited and Harry finally sighed. "Hermione told me I was being an idiot; not about what you said, I didn't tell them." He muttered to his knees, "I was really sore at you."

"You are not an idiot," Sirius said quietly. "You were shocked and hurt, especially after you thought I was unhappy."

Harry's fingertips gouged his kneecaps. "But at least you didn't mind having me around."

"I loved having you around," Sirius corrected, realizing that they hadn't got far at all. "It was the best Christmas I've ever had."

"Yeah, Christmas was..."

"Well, yes," Sirius admitted, "it did go rather pear-shaped for awhile there, didn't it?"

Harry glanced at him, the worry piercing Sirius through. "I still preferred that to your being at the Weasleys," he said. Harry's brows furrowed and Sirius couldn't decide whether to smile or groan at the surprise. He tapped his finger against Harry's forehead, making him blink. "I'm rather fond of you, or was that not clear?"

Harrry flushed again. "I know."

Sirius smiled. "Good--"

A deafening pop made both of them freeze, but only for an instant and then Sirius was on his feet, shielding Harry as he aimed his wand at the shivering trees in front of them. He punched out a breath as Dumbledore emerged, shaking pine needles from his feather-adorned hat. Fawkes and Hagrid followed close behind.

"Ah," the headmaster murmured with a smile as he looked up, "just as I suspected."

"Aye," Hagrid agreed, smiling as well. "Good ter see yeh're alive, Harry. Had us worried." He greeted Sirius with an enthusiastic handshake, mumbled with embarrassment something about believing 'the nonsense some were spreadin' and then while Dumbledore sent a silver bird from the tip of his wand, Hagrid told Sirius he had kept his motorcycle safe for him, whenever he was ready for it.

"Are you quite all right, both of you?" Dumbledore asked once Sirius had thanked Hagrid.

"We are," Sirius assured him.

"How did you find us so quickly?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "When I discovered that people were the items of value to the champions, I thought it likely that Sirius would be yours. And when you didn't emerge, I realized that you wouldn't have wanted to bring him back to the starting point. From there, it was a simple matter to find the place where the Merpeople had held the hostages."

"A simple matter?" Sirius echoed dubiously.

"The swim was rather refreshing," Dumbledore told him as he moved his hat from its precarious angle. "Though the seaweed was a bit feisty. I am impressed you managed to fight your way through it, Harry."

"Er... thanks sir."

"You were attacked by seaweed?"

"You need not worry about Harry's safety where the tournament is concerned, Sirius," Dumbledore answered before Harry could, "as he will no longer be competing."

"Because he didn't bring me back?" Sirius asked, glancing at Harry, who simply looked resigned.

"The rules state that if one of the champions does not complete a task, he or she will be disqualified," Dumbledore explained. "And I must say I am relieved, Harry, since I did not like your being involved. I do hope you aren't terribly disappointed?"

Harry shrugged. "They'll never let me hear the end of it, but I'm just glad no one saw Sirius."

"As am I," the headmaster agreed. Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulders, smiling as Harry looked up.

"Well," the headmaster said with a wide smile, "shall we adjourn to my office, then?" He took Fawkes' tail and gestured for them to do the same. "For a spot of a tea... perhaps a shirt with sleeves?"

Before either of them could answer, Fawkes took them away.

oOoOo

Pomfrey was waiting. She fussed over them, clucking at Harry's attire and Sirius' lack of coat.

"If I hadn't given it to Harry, you would have scolded me for at least an hour," he chuckled.

"None of your cheek," she chided. "And sit down. Albus, where is the tea? Mr. Potter," she said sharply as he started to sit beside Sirius, "you aren't even wearing socks! Or a proper shirt, I might add. The toilet is through that door there; clothes."

She handed him a neat stack, with his trainers on top, no indication of where she might have got it. "Now, if you please. Albus, tea. Or did you want them to develop hypothermia?"

"No indeed," the headmaster said with a smile. Harry hadn't moved; Sirius made a shooing motion. Harry sighed and went through the plain door.

"Half of Gryffindor tower is waiting at the gargoyle," Pomfrey said as she accepted a cup of steaming tea from Dumbledore. "The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were plotting some sort of coup when I came up."

"They do have the cleverest ideas, those three. Biscuit, Sirius?"

Sirius pressed his smirk away. "No, thank you."

Dumbledore bit off one of the ends of the U-shaped treat. "Delicious," he murmured appreciatively.

Pomfrey sighed; she was already packing her bag. "I must be on my way," she said. "Ms. Delacour's sister was taken ill after she was recovered; shock, I believe."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said. He ushered her with a gentlemanly elbow to the door. While they conversed in low tones, Harry emerged from the loo in a jumper and jeans.

Sirius took the wad of clothes from Harry. "Better?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He brushed his palms against his thighs as he sat. With Dumbledore still by the door, Sirius leaned over.

"You all right?"

Harry seemed to be considering the answer to that. "What does he want, do you think?"

Sirius glanced back in surprise at the headmaster. "How do you mean?"

Ducking his head, Harry whispered, "It's always bad news."

Sirius furrowed his brow but before he could ask Harry to explain that, Dumbledore had joined them. "Would you care for tea, Harry? It's raspberry."

"Oh. Yes, sir. Thank you."

Dumbledore handed over the tea and then crossed to the fireplace to adjust the flames. "There we are," he said, straightening after a moment. "Very cozy." He slid the poker back into its place on the hearth stand.

"I hope you won't mind," he said as he sat in the chair opposite them, "but the swim did leave me a bit cold." He toed off his grey shoes and stretched his socked feet toward the fire, wiggling his toes inside their rainbow-striped encasing. "Biscuit, Harry?"

While Harry munched, Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea. "As soon as you feel ready," he said over the rim of the tea cup, "your friends are waiting for you in the corridor. Fred and George Weasley are apparently plotting my overthrow in hopes of your return."

Harry smiled over his biscuit. His eyes twinkling, Dumbledore handed him another.

"So," a deep voice said, "this is the heir to our esteemed line?"

Sirius and Harry twisted their necks; Dumbledore continued to sip his tea. "Now Phineas," he chided softly, "surely this isn't necessary."

"It certainly is," the black-haired portrait said loudly from high above their heads; Sirius sighed, having heard more of this man's bluster than he had ever cared to. "This boy is the talk of the corridor--and I do not mind telling you, Sirius, your mother is most displeased."

"Shocking," Sirius muttered. Phineas scowled.

"You are still a disrespectful whelp, I see. And I assume your son is only going to follow in your footsteps. I knew it was a mistake to ever allow you into Wizarding society."

Sirius didn't answer, but only just; Harry was gazing at Phineas with dismay. "My great-great-great grandfather," Sirius explained with a strained smile. "Phineas Nigellus."

"I would need no introduction," Phineas said, lifting his chin with a haughty air, "if you had been brought up properly." He raised an eyebrow when Harry didn't answer. "Have you no manners either?" he asked sharply.

"Don't speak to him like that," Sirius intervened before Harry could respond. "In fact, don't speak to him at all."

Phineas harrumphed. "You will certainly do him no favors--"

"Phineas, please," Dumbledore interrupted in a quiet voice.

"Very well," Phineas said with ill-grace, "but I fail to see why Regulus would have wasted such powerful magic on him. At least Sirius' blood is pure, no matter what he did with a Mudblood--"

"Phineas!" Albus' voice echoed round the office as Sirius surged to his feet.

"Wait," he said quickly, interrupting the headmaster's intention to scold Phineas for his use of the epithet. "How do you know about Reg's curse? And how do you know the magic went to Harry?" It was absolutely absurd to feel so elated.

Phineas narrowed his eyes. "I beg your pardon? You think, I, of all of us in this wretched corridor, would not know--"

"I'm not interested in your power struggles," Sirius barked. And then wondered why he hadn't thought of the obvious. "Did Reg tell you that?"

"Of course not, stupid boy. He is not with us."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and he was about to demand again that his paint and canvas grandfather tell him what he knew, but Dumbledore and Harry were staring at him, Harry with several worried lines denting his forehead.

"Sorry," Sirius said quietly as he sat down, though he couldn't have said what he was apologizing for.

"What did he mean?" Harry asked, his gaze darting to Phineas, who had returned to looking as unpleasant and regal as ever.

"He does not know?" Phineas demanded. "You have not told him that he controls our family's most ancient magic? Magic, I might add, that has no business in the hands of a half-blood."

"I don't understand..." Harry was looking between Phineas and Sirius.

"I..." Sirius shook his head, trying to clear it and asked Phineas, "Regulus used Rigel's magic?"

"Are you implying that Harry has somehow come into possession of Rigel Black's stolen inheritance?" Dumbledore asked, his voice as incredulous as Sirius had ever heard.

"It was not stolen, and I am not implying it, Albus," Phineas huffed. "The entire family has been trying to come to terms with this travesty for fifteen years!"

Dumbledore's fingertips pressed against his lips. "Dear me..."

Sirius had a moment of vicious anger toward his brother then. The most volatile of their family's history and the darkest by far. Of course he hadn't meant to give that unstable power to Harry, but that dimmed Sirius' irritation not at all.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, his voice sharp enough that they all turned to him.

Sirius pressed his palms together as he considered how to explain. "Rigel Black was one of my ancestors--"

"One of?" Phineas sputtered.

"Yes," Sirius said through his teeth, "one of them. He stole Merlin's magic on his deathbed."

"He did no such thing! How dare you besmirch his name!"

Sirius let out a frustrated breath. "It was never proven," he allowed, "but it is fairly well accepted by everyone other than the Black family that Rigel stole it."

Harry cocked his head. "But, what does that have to do with me?"

And so Sirius had to repeat the story of Regulus' curse. "I didn't know specifically about Rigel's magic," he finished gently, "but I think that might have been how you were protected from Voldemort that night--perhaps how he died."

Harry hadn't interrupted the story once, and he sat now, staring at a spot over Sirius' shoulder. Sirius squeezed his fingers and said, "Perhaps the Headmaster can..." He trailed off; Dumbledore was gripping his chair.

"Albus?"

Harry looked up at Sirius' concerned query. Dumbledore blinked and then his blue eyes focused on Harry, so intense that a shiver curled up Sirius' spine.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Dumbledore asked quietly as he switched his gaze to Sirius. "Regulus believed this curse would be powerful enough to defeat Voldemort?"

"Yes," Sirius said, his brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle out this unexpected reaction. "He said he designed it to have power over Voldemort--a power he knows not, I believe were his exact words."

Dumbledore's lips pressed together for a moment.

"Do you think the stolen magic might be harmful to Harry?"

"Of course it is not harmful," Phineas interrupted yet again. "He would be a more powerful wizard even than Merlin himself if he had been trained properly, which I might add, was your job as his father Sirius."

"Yes, thank you, Phineas," Dumbledore sighed.

Sirius ignored his urge to hurl a retort at his granfather. "This is dark magic and extremely unstable," he said instead. "Rigel couldn't control it."

"You failed your history lessons, if I recall correctly," Phineas said with a sneer.

"Do you have anything helpful to add?" Sirius asked, swiveling in his seat.

Phineas looked down his nose, finally saying grumpily, "Obviously, the magic has yet to be activated. Unless Harry is only pretending to be a mediocre wizard?"

"Oy!" Sirius protested, his spine stiffening. "Harry is not mediocre."

"I'm not exactly Hermione," Harry put in. "How does a person steal magic anyway?"

Sirius scowled at Phineas before answering, "With magic dark enough to kill the wizard casting it."

"Which it didn't!" Phineas said triumphantly. "He did not steal it. Merlin gave it to him for his noble services to the king."

"Can't you cast a silencing spell on him?" Sirius asked Dumbledore under his breath. The headmaster sighed.

"Unfortunately no. But I do think he is correct that somehow the magic would have to be activated. It would have interfered in Harry's spells otherwise. No doubt Regulus would have explained everything in his memories. It is a pity you were not able to retrieve them. If you wish," he said, "I might have better luck?"

Since he had not explained his father's part in the loss of the memories, Sirius simply shook his head. "I shouldn't think so." Dumbledore studied him over his spectacles for a protracted moment and then turned his attention to Harry.

"It is unlikely that the magic poses a risk to you."

"OK," Harry said uncertainly. "Didn't I tell you it's always bad news?" he muttered to Sirius.

"It isn't exactly bad news..."

"It's not really good news either, is it? Wonky magic just sitting there inside me?"

"Fair point," Sirius conceded.

"It is not sitting inside you." Phineas heaved out a sigh. "Utterly ridiculous notion. The magic is simply at your command. Sitting inside you, indeed. It is not a congealed lump of gruel."

Harry flushed. "Close enough," Sirius said, entirely tempted to send a blasting spell at the portrait.

Phineas harrumphed but chose not to answer.

"I do think it might be worth a study," Dumbledore said. He glanced up at Phineas. "Do you know how the magic is activated?"

"I do not," Phineas answered in his most disgruntled voice.

"Do you know who might?"

Phineas crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

"The information has to be somewhere in your house, doesn't it?" Harry asked.

"Grimmauld Place isn't the only Black residence," Sirius murmured, "and Regulus was quite close to our cousins. Draco's mother for one."

"Right," Harry said, nodding. "He was on the tapestry."

Sirius wondered if he had yet realized that that made Draco his cousin as well.

"The library at Grimmauld Place might be the best place to start," said Dumbledore.

Reluctant to return to his family home, Sirius hesitated. "If you don't think there is any danger to Harry..."

"I am grateful that you have such faith in me," Dumbledore said, dipping his chin, "but I cannot know for certain. And if you are able to bear another visit to your father's home, the knowledge might put your mind at ease."

Sirius glanced at Harry. Making certain that he was safe was certainly worth another trip into the ninth circle.

"And as Harry seems to find himself in difficult situations," Dumbledore added with a delicate cough. Harry frowned at that, but Sirius had already made up his mind.

"I suppose it won't hurt to do a bit of research," he said, his eyes for Harry. "My father's library is quite large though; a person could get lost in there." His smile faltered; Harry's upper lip was caught between his teeth. "What's the matter?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, nothing... Will you let me know what you find, then?"

He was pinching his knees again, his voice not at all easy.

"Absolutely," Sirius said, knowing then that he had read Harry's expression correctly just by the way his shoulders hunched up. "Unless you want to come with me?"

Harry came quickly out of his slouch, his green eyes lighting up. "Yeah?"

"I certainly have no objection," Dumbledore chimed in, seeming not to notice that he hadn't actually been asked. "And in fact, Harry's presence might even prove necessary, since he is the intended recipient of Rigel's power."

Harry grinned, the first genuine expression of happiness that Sirius had seen since Christmas. He smiled, no longer dreading the return to Grimmauld Place.