Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin

Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin

Chapter 2--Sanctuary

The fireplace he tumbled out of was filthy. He stood up slowly, coughing and covered with soot. "Well, that was graceful," he muttered. Not that he should have complained. It was only the second time he had ever used floo powder. He was used to apparating.

He was also used to having a wand. He felt defenseless now without it. He could only hope that Voldemort would fall for his ploy and wouldn't come looking for him.

"What happened to you? Come out of the wrong fireplace?" asked a voice behind him.

Sirius spun around, frightened.

It was only an attractive young woman, looking at him curiously. When he didn't answer, she raised an eyebrow and repeated her question.

"I--I think so," he replied.

"Where were you going?" she asked, kindly.

"Where am I?"

"First tell me where you were going this late."

"Hogwarts. I have a friend there," he lied. "He's come to school early. I wanted to surprise him . . ."

The woman chuckled. "Well, no wonder you wound up in the wrong place. Don't you know you can't get to Hogwarts that way? It's protected."

"Oh," Sirius replied. What else was there to say? "So, where am I?" he tried again.

"The Three Broomsticks, an inn in Hogsmeade. My name's Rosemerta. Who are you?"

"Ah--Sirius," he said softly.

She smiled. "Sirius, eh? That's an odd name." When he didn't respond, she continued speaking. "Well, Sirius, your best bet to visit your friend would be to owl them at Hogwarts, let them know you're coming, then just walk over. It's not far. I could lend you an owl if you'd like."

He nodded, unsure how to answer. He wasn't used to people treating him this kindly.

Rosemerta smiled. "It's settled then. You can stay in one of the empty rooms. If you owl your friend tonight, you should be able to visit tomorrow."

He looked at her uncomfortably. "I don't have any money with me. I can't pay for the room."

Rosemerta just laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house. Not your fault no one told you that you can't floo to Hogwarts. Come on. I'll set you up in a room."

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An hour later, Sirius sat on the bed of a cozy little room, rereading the letter in his hand for the twentieth time. Rosemerta's small brown barn owl watched him curiously. He smiled sadly at the owl. "They're never going to accept me, you know. Once I tell Dumbledore who my father is and what he's been doing, he'll never allow me to stay there." The owl hooted softly in reply.

Sirius ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. It had been a long night. And tomorrow promised to be an even longer day.

He glanced around the room uncomfortably, unused to the sudden freedom. He kept expecting Voldemort to pop out from some dark corner and try to kill him. So far there had been no sign of either his father or the Death Eaters. Sirius took that as a good sign. They had to have noticed his absence by now, and if they hadn't tracked him yet, it was likely that they believed him to be dead. That was a small blessing . . . for now.

He looked over his letter one more time.

Professor Dumbledore,

I don't know how you got my name, but I am writing to inform you that I would very much like to attend classes at Hogwarts. However, I have issues in my life that may affect my eligibility. Please respond soon, as we need to speak. I am currently in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks.

Sirius Riddle

"Here goes nothing," he murmured, sealing the letter and handing it over to the owl. "Hurry."

The owl hooted and took the letter in his beak. He flapped his wings and was soon out the window. A few moments later, he had disappeared into the black night.

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Something was poking at his hand. Sirius tried to roll over and block it out, but whatever it was, it was insistent. The poking became harder. "Ouch," he snapped, his eyes opening angrily as he sat up, rubbing his sore hand. Sirius looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn't his room. Where was he?

Then the events of the previous night came back to him full force. "I'm still alive," he whispered. He really hadn't expected to survive the night.

He felt another sharp poke, this time to his arm. "What do you want?" Sirius snapped, looking down. It was Rosemerta's owl, and in front of it laid a heavy parchment envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest.

Wide-awake now, he sat up so suddenly in his haste to grab the letter, he nearly knocked the owl from the bed. Finally realizing that it wasn't getting any food, the owl flew out of the room in a huff. Sirius didn't notice. He was too busy staring at the envelope in his hands. He was half-afraid to open it. What if Dumbledore had decided to reject him without having even heard Sirius' story?

"Coward," he finally growled at himself, and he tore the envelope open. This letter was written in the same ornate, green handwriting as the last had been.

Mr. Riddle,

I would be more than happy to meet with you before the beginning of the term. As this is summer break still, I have no pressing engagements. You are welcome to see me today if you like. I will be sure to tell our groundskeeper to open the gates when you arrive. I look forward to meeting you.

Prof. Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius read the letter twice to be sure he hadn't mistaken. Then he flew into action. Never had he made himself presentable so quickly, even when summoned by his father. In no time he was downstairs, letter in hand.

Rosemerta was already up and about. She smiled at him. "Well, you're up early. Wouldn't you like a bite to eat?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I need to go."

She caught sight of the letter in his hand. "Ah, so your friend has written you. Well then, it was good meeting you. If you take the main road outside this door left, straight out of town for a couple of miles, you'll find your way to Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded and walked toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped and looked at Rosemerta who was busily sending the broom off to sweep. "Um--thanks," he said softly. It was the first time he'd ever thanked anyone for anything. It was a strange feeling.

Rosemerta just laughed, gave him a cauldron cake to eat on the walk, and sent him on his way.

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"Great," Sirius sighed. "Lost again." He stood at an intersection between four corridors, uncertain of which direction to take. He shrugged and went left, hoping to stumble upon Dumbledore's office by luck. He looked around as he walked, trying to take everything in. For all he knew, this may be his only chance to do so if Dumbledore rejected him.

Hogwarts was not at all what Sirius had expected. That wasn't exactly a bad thing, just different. The old castle felt like a mix of enchanting beauty and bizarre oddities. There was that giant groundskeeper with the pink umbrella, for instance. And that irritating poltergeist who had gotten him lost in the first place.

He turned the corner, only to come face to face with a very large portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress. "Oh, no," he moaned. He'd been down here before. The fat lady sent him a curious look, but before she could say anything, the frame swung open toward Sirius, nearly knocking him over. He backed out of the way just in time. Looking back at the picture, he was surprised to see a rather severe-looking woman standing in a passageway that had been hidden by the painting. The woman wore long green robes and had her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. Judging by the look on her face, she was as surprised to see Sirius as he was to see her.

"Who--who are you? What are you doing here? Explain yourself!" The witch was obviously upset.

"S--Sirius . . ." he stammered, still stunned by her sudden appearance and barrage of questions.

"Serious?" she asked, confused. "Serious about what? Whatever are you talking about, boy?"

It was his turn to look confused. "What?" he asked. Then he understood. "Oh. No. I mean, my name. It's Sirius . . . as in the star. I'm--I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore. I'm supposed to meet with him. He's expecting me."

The witch, whom Sirius suspected was probably a professor, gave him a stern look over her glasses. Then her expression softened a bit. "Well, you're in the wrong place. This is the Gryffindor wing. The headmaster is down a different corridor. Follow me." She began walking briskly down the hall. After several twists and turns, the woman stopped at a very ugly gargoyle statue. She said something in a voice too low for him to make out clearly, but he'd have sworn it had something to do with "fizzing whizbees."

Almost immediately after she spoke, the gargoyle leapt out of the way and the wall behind it opened, revealing a moving spiral staircase. The witch stepped on, motioning for him to follow.

Sirius stepped onto the moving stairs, nervously, although he didn't let it show. He wasn't used to such extravagances, and they made him uncomfortable. His father never wasted magic on frills when it could be put to use elsewhere. That was one thing that made him so dangerous.

The stairs finally stopped, and Sirius found himself facing a huge oak door. The witch knocked on it.

"Come in," came a voice from inside the room. It was the voice of an old man, but there was power behind it. Sirius shivered even as the witch motioned for him to go in. Obviously she didn't plan on following. He swallowed hard and opened the door.

The inside of the office looked like a tornado had swept through . Many pictures, presumably of old headmasters, snoozed on the wall. Many more, however, were still on the floor, propped against the walls and furniture. A large gold perch sat in the middle of the room. A gold plate filled with ash sat beneath it, and sitting in the ash was a small baby bird of some sort. The faint smell of smoke hung in the air. Sirius didn't think he wanted to know why.

A very old man in brightly colored robes stood in the midst of the chaos. He had long gray hair and an even longer gray beard, making him appear very old. But his twinkling blue eyes gave the impression of youth and power. Those kind blue eyes were now focused on the tall, uncertain boy who stood before him.

The old man was clearly Dumbledore. He also was not what Sirius had expected, but in this case, Sirius was relieved. He couldn't see what scared his father so much about this man, but maybe that was a good thing.

Dumbledore motioned to Sirius. "Close the door behind you, please. I wouldn't want Peeves to take that open door as an invitation."

Sirius quickly closed the door. He turned back to face the headmaster. "Peeves?" he asked uncertainly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Our resident poltergeist."

So that was the bugger's name . . . Peeves. Figured.

"Sit down, my dear boy. There's a clear chair around here somewhere." Dumbledore dragged a stool over and perched on top of it. "Please excuse the state of my office. I was only just made headmaster, and am still moving things from my old one. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be relieved when I finish getting my things out of her new office. She's the new transfiguration teacher."

Sirius had cleared off a half-buried chair behind him and sat, remaining quiet for Dumbledore's entire discussion, not quite sure how to take it. He'd never heard of people in power chatting with the sons of their enemies. It was almost as bizarre as the rest of this place.

Dumbledore pulled a small box from the pocket of his robes. "Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

"No." Was this a joke?

Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth and finally got down to business. "So, you are Sirius Riddle. That would be a relation to Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Here it comes, he thought, nodding glumly.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I remember him. One of the brightest students in the school. I had wondered what happened to him."

"He's my father," Sirius said softly.

"I see . . . I never imagined Tom as the family type."

Sirius kept his eyes focused on a crack in the floor. "He's not. He killed my mum." He didn't bother hiding the hatred in his voice.

With this abrupt admission, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. Sirius took a deep breath and, before Dumbledore could reply, he recounted what he knew of his father's history, from his search for immortality and transformation into Lord Voldemort to the death of Sirius' mother. He faltered there, unsure if he should mention the Unforgivables being used on him.

Dumbledore had been quiet that whole time, but now he spoke. "So, Tom has become this Lord Voldemort? I had expected he was involved, but I didn't realize he was that far gone. He's been killing the muggle families, then?"

Sirius nodded. "Not just him, though. He has followers. At least sixteen now. He calls them his Death Eaters, since their goal is to live forever. My mum was a Death Eater . . ."

Dumbledore gave Sirius a concerned look. The teasing was gone from his eyes. Did Voldemort try to drag you in as well?"

"Yes."

"Did you follow?"

Sirius sighed. "I don't know. I refused at first, but then he put the Imperius curse on me. I--I can't really remember much after that."

"How long?" asked Dumbledore gently.

"Two years." Sirius' voice was barely audible. "I began breaking free almost four months ago. I don't know how, but that's the first clear thing I remember since . . . that night. I didn't know what to do. He'd have killed me if he found out. So I pretended to follow him. Then the letter came and I thought I could escape somehow. So, when he sent me out to kill some mudbloods . . . I let them go, but I destroyed the house . . . so I would seem dead . . . in a mistaken spell . . ."

Sirius had almost forgotten about Dumbledore by then. He was speaking more to himself. Reliving the past few years. "The mudbloods didn't die, but I . . . I don't know . . . I mean, if he sent me to kill them . . . I don't know what I did for those two years. . . I don't know if I--"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said gently, "anything you did while under Voldemort's power is not your fault. Do not torture yourself on account of him."

Sirius didn't answer, still focusing on the floor.

Dumbledore leaned in closer to Sirius. "I need to ask you a few questions. I know that you are upset, but you must answer these."

Sirius finally looked up at him. "Alright."

"Could anyone from the house you destroyed identify you?"

"No. I wore a mask."

"Did anyone see you leave, masked or not?"

He shook his head. "I left by floo powder. I'd tossed my wand into the fire with the Death Eater mask before I left. The only person I've seen since, besides people here, was a woman named Rosemerta at Hogsmeade. All she knows is my first name, and that I have a--ah--friend here."

"Good," Dumbledore murmered. "You may be safe then . . . Was your wand ebony and dragon heartstring by any chance?"

"Yes . . . how did you--"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Patience. Think carefully, now. Did you break your wand before you left?"

"No."

"Did you use any dark magic there?"

"No. The only spell I used was Incendio. Why?"

Dumbledore smiled grimly and pulled a paper out from beneath a pile of books on the desk behind him. He handed the paper to Sirius. "The Daily Prophet ran an article on your attack last night. Your fire didn't destroy much. Only a couple of rooms, but the Ministry did find your wand in the kitchen, snapped in half, and apparently an image was set in the sky."

Sirius didn't have to ask about the image. The Prophet had a picture of it: a skull and snake. He looked up. "What does it mean?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. They're calling it the 'Dark Mark.'"

Sirius shook his head, confused. I've never seen it before. This is new."

Dumbledore sighed. "I see. Then Voldemort must be getting bold."

Sirius wasn't listening. "Wait. Did you say my wand was in the kitchen?"

"Yes."

"I left it in the living room."

"I assumed as much, if you left by floo. They think your wand was used to send up the Dark Mark, and then was broken, so that Priori Incantatem couldn't be used to trace the wand's previous spells. You realize what this means, Sirius? If they thought just breaking the wand would erase your past, then they very likely think you're dead. You should be safe at Hogwarts as long as we change your name, and you keep a low profile."

Sirius almost jumped out of his chair. "You--you mean I can stay? Even though my father--"

"You are not your father. You will be judged here by your own choices, not by his."

Sirius' jaw had dropped. "I can really stay?"

Dumbledore laughed at the boy's amazement. "Of course. You've already been accepted. Anyway, from what you've shown me in here, I see none of your father in you. I see no reason why you shouldn't stay." He paused, letting it sink in, then commented, "You seem surprised."

"I expected to be refused on my father's account. I expected to have to live as a muggle for the rest of my life."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, now you need not. However, there is the problem of your name. Are there many who would recognize you?"

Sirius shook his head. "I was my father's little secret. Only the Death Eaters knew about me and they had sworn to tell no one, not even their families. I was some secret weapon or something. And I've only told my first name to Rosemerta in Hogsmeade and the witch who let me in here."

"That would be Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore replied. "Sirius is not exactly a common name, and I would have been much more comfortable having changed that as well, but since you've used it recently that can't be helped. However we can change your last name. Would 'Black' work? It seems simple enough to remember. 'Sirius Black.'"

Sirius nodded, only half listening. He was still too stunned. He could stay. Maybe he wouldn't be killed after all.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore stated, breaking into Sirius' thoughts. "I'll change your name in the records. Meanwhile, we'll have to get you to Diagon Alley to pick up your school supplies. You understand that for a time you will need to stay strictly on Hogwarts grounds to ensure your safety, even over the holidays. I would not even be sending you to Diagon Alley this time, if you didn't need to get a new wand. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Sirius replied.

"Good," Dumbledore stood and began walking toward the door.

Sirius followed, lost in his thoughts. He spoke as they left the room and stepped onto the stairs, which, Sirius observed, now moved downward. "Professor Dumbledore, Death Eaters obviously made it to that house," Sirius said suddenly, voicing a concern that had been troubling him since he'd seen the Daily Prophet. "You wouldn't know, would you, if the mudbloods are alright? I sent them to the Ministry. My father hasn't tried to get in, has he?"

Dumbledore turned to Sirius. "They are fine, but I must insist on a few things, Sirius. First, Voldemort is no longer your father. Your father was a man named Tom Riddle, who no longer exists. Put that out of your mind. Both of your parents are dead to you from now on. Second, with your background, this is hardly your fault, but you must never use the term 'mudblood.' The proper term is 'muggle born.' 'Mudblood' is a cruel insult, and it is beneath you to use it."

Sirius looked away, embarrassed, but nodded.

"Finally," Dumbledore continued, "I suspect Voldemort has taught you some, shall we say, specialized magic. You must be careful about this. Pace yourself with the rest of the students for awhile and never use dark magic."

Sirius looked up and met Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't ever intend to use dark magic again," he said firmly.

"Good."

At this point, they stairs had stopped, and the two began walking down the corridors toward the Gryffindor wing. Professor McGonagall stood in front of the portrait, speaking with a female ghost. As Dumbledore approached, the ghost curtsied and left, smiling at Sirius. Professor McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster," she acknowledged politely, sending Sirius an interested look.

Dumbledore nodded to her. "Professor. I hear you have already met our new student, Sirius Black."

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. I ran into him here, in fact. Literally."

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Sirius needs to pick up his school items at Diagon Alley. Would you be so kind as to accompany him? I would have sent Hagrid, but he's already left to pick up some flesh-eating slug repellant, I believe."

McGonagall looked surprised. "Wouldn't he much rather go with his family?"

Dumbledore sighed. "His family is... gone. Special arrangements have been made for him because of this."

"Oh, dear. Of course I can take him." She sent Sirius a guilty look, obviously regretting the mention of family in front of him. "We'll go immediately. Come on, Mr. Black."

Sirius followed obediently, used to taking orders.

It wasn't until they were outside, hailing the Knight Bus, that Sirius realized he'd forgotten to tell Dumbledore about the Avada Kedavra curse being used on him.

But perhaps that was a good thing for now. Sirius wouldn't have known how to react to either sympathy or pity.