Disclaimer - I don’t own anything. As the corporations say these days, you will own nothing & be happy. I don't, and have never claimed to, own Marvel or Disney or any of its characters. With that out of the way, let’s goooo!
Hogwarts
–Damian Hawthorne–
Reading through the letter once more to make sure he did not miss anything, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. The letter…it complicated things. Frankly, Dumbledore telling him to forego the drastic actions he had planned gave him an out he sorely wanted. It wasn’t like he couldn’t make some noise, destroy some stuff, just to make sure his message reached most of Magical Britain, but he didn’t want to do it anymore.
Not only would it draw further heat on his head, but more importantly, he didn't really have any more acceptable targets, atleast when looked at by the lens of the average citizen of Magical Britain. The average wizard of Magical Britain was a total racist and completely directionless, willing to follow anyone provided they sounded good enough.
The average witch in Magical Britain was also a coward, willing to lay down their arms as soon as a superior wizard in terms of power showed up. It was the reason why both Dumbledore and Voldemort had such cult followings, with Dumbledore’s following only exploding after he defeated Tommy boy, not that he was responsible for that.
That brought him to the second flaw in the minds of the average wizard of Magical Britain. They were very racist. It was very easy for them to be convinced of looking the other way, as long as the victims were Muggleborns. Even at the start of Tommy Boy’s reign, the first victims were muggles and muggleborns. There were multiple horrific reports of what had been done to those Muggleborns, but there was no outrage or war sentiment then. It was only when Tom’s shadow became large enough to cover the houses of the nobles that they began raising their voices, trying to mount a defense against the Dark Lord, when just a scant few months ago, they were perfectly willing to look the other way, provided the Dark Lord did not come for the pureblood wizards.
Sure, they did not subscribe to that philosophy and didn’t utter a single word in their defense, but not acting was an action on its own. If the average wizard in Britain was willing to ignore Muggleborn wizards suffering and easy to pick up their wand if the party being slaughtered was a pureblood, their neighbour, then that was just plain racist.
Which is why, despite his wishes, he couldn’t really target the Manors in which the noble wizards lived, where he knew multiple human rights violations were occurring, where he knew he would just kill all of them and be done with it.
And that alone will have a response equivalent to a Dark Lord raised against him, with Dumbledore at the helm. He might even understand his actions and reasoning, but the man would not let him get away scot free. No, Dumbledore would hunt him down to the best of his ability as long as the old man believed that he would be a danger to the Magical Society, and despite his many methods, he was unwilling to test the Ancient Wizard.
Not without at least being enrolled in Kamar Taj, at the very least.
So, even without Dumbledore’s letter requesting him to stop, he actually did not have any acceptable target, and had actually been brainstorming about what action he could take to show that his words were not empty.
Good that Dumbledore sent this letter. Now, some noble manors will remain standing for a while longer. Not too long, though. Even if he was going to graduate this year and enter Kamar Taj, he was not going to forget about the wizarding world and its potential to impact the rest of the world.
He was sure that the Ancient One would be working in the background to make sure that magic’s existence did not spill out in the open world, but he could work to make sure that the suffering that was commonplace in canon was either reduced or outright removed.
Atleast the letter confirmed the reason for Dumbledore’s continued absence from the school dinners. His threats might have been empty, but if they got Dumbledore and Bones to work just a tad bit faster, then they were worth it. He would have to write a letter after he had picked a location that would be sufficiently neutral for both parties, not to mention do it on the weekend. There was also the part of informing Sirius about both meeting Dumbledore and about Peter’s continued survival.
There was a chance the man would resent Dumbledore and refuse to see him, but it would be nothing compared to his reaction to Peter. He would most likely take an offense to Peter’s continued survival.
Shaking his head, he looked at the letter, and after setting it aside, he covered his face and popped up in Sirius’ room. Wouldn’t want to let the man see that his savior was a kid. A kid who could kick his ass seven ways to Sunday, but a kid nonetheless.
He had intentionally made sure his teleportation created a sound, else he had long since grown out of that weakness. After all, if a teleportation spell was not silent, how was he going to spook the hell out of his targets?
Speaking of targets, his target was currently hiding behind the wall, on the other end of the kitchen. He was not moving, but his heavy breathing was giving his position away. Sirius was not in a condition to be playing hide and seek, his body was still battered from his decade long stay in Azkaban.
Hell, it was a miracle that the man’s stomach could even handle half the food he was eating. He was still on a diet, and it was working wonders, the man having upgraded from boiled and mashed food to now boiled and spiced food.
It would take him a while to move to the fried food he himself loved, but the man was British, so he wagered that the man didn't care much for spices. After all, beans and bread didn’t really need any spices.
Wait, he was also British by birth? But he really loved eating spicy food.
Eh, he shrugged and said out loud, saying in position, “Your breathing is giving you away, Sirius. You need years of training before you can fool someone like me,” If he could ever do that anyway. In the first place, he didn’t really rely on any single sense. Sound was only one of the senses his body had access to, and Sirius’ magic, depleted and atrophied as it was, was still easily sensed by him.
The heavy breathing sound ceased entirely as he huffed and walked out of the kitchen, looking pointedly at the man plastered to the wall, looking at him with a sheepish grin on his face. Despite his cloak covering most of his office, Sirius could probably feel his deadpan as he got off the walls and greeted him.
“Hi, Warden,” Sirius spoke in an upbeat voice, trying to hide the tremor and nervousness in his voice as he walked to the sofa.
Sitting on it, Sirius faced him, naked hope written on his face, “So? When are we going out? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am loving it here. This is practically heaven compared to what I had before, but…” His voice trailed off as he looked at him with a shaky smile on his face, “It gets lonely, you know?”
He sighed and sat in front of the man, a small stool materialising beneath him as he did so, “We will be meeting Dumbledore soon. I have set into motion the events that will lead to you becoming a free man once more. Once that happens, you can obviously do whatever you want.”
Sirius’ face fell at the obvious implication that there was still time until he could see Harry, but he soldiered on. After all, he had waited a decade in Hell, what was a week more in vastly more comfortable accommodations?
Atleast, he hoped that was the thought process of the man.
“I assume you are fine with meeting Dumbledore?” he asked, just to be sure.
Sirius nodded at that, his hands flexing, likely nervous. Ignoring that, he moved on to the more explosive topic at hand. Dumbledore wanted to meet both of them, and Sirius was likely going to be in the trial room with Peter together.
So, it was better that the man got all the hate and bloodlust out of his system, where he had someone to restrain him. It would be beyond disastrous if he tried something in front of the court and got imprisoned for it. Well, it’s not like they could send him back to Azkaban or have him kissed, so the stakes were a little lower than normal, but still, he wanted Sirius to become the Lord Black, not the Lord Black of Prison Stays in Magical Britain.
“Peter Pettigrew is still alive, and I have him imprisoned. He will face trial at the same time as you. He is probably the only living proof we have of your innocence. His survival is tied to yours, for now,” he emphasised on the latter part to indirectly tell Sirius that Peter could be killed later on, after Sirius was Lord Black, and at that point, Sirius wouldn’t even need anything from him to do that.
His wealth and power as Lord Black should be more than enough to handle the death of the person who was going to become the biggest traitor in the minds of the current generation of wizards.
Most government officials would be tripping over themselves to get on the good side of the new Lord Black, especially since he was wrongfully imprisoned by the government for a decade.
Yeah, revenge was not going to be an issue for Sirius.
…And yet, Sirius’ face was frozen, his eyes looking past him, his nervous smile plastered on his face as veins bulged around his neck and forehead, as if his body had gone into shock.
He sighed, a voice that echoed in the room as he flicked his hand and knocked Sirius out.
Now, he would have to start again.
Hopefully, after being knocked out once, Sirius was atleast somewhat reasonable