Chapter 50: Sirius and Unserious Secrets
Blaise ZabiniHogsmeade, Great Britain
“You’re doing that thing again,” Violet said with a tired sigh. She nibbled on a treacle tart, one of those teatime snacks small enough to fit inside one palm.
“What thing?” I smiled guilelessly. It was funny how they both stiffened like cardboard at the mention of the elder Malfoy’s name.
“The thing where you say something outrageous or completely unrelated and expect everyone else to follow your train of thought. For those of us who aren’t seers, please?”
I eyed the wards again. They were secure. I could see mana, the raw magic woven into the walls. I was confident I’d know when I was being watched.
And yet, I hesitated. Horcruxes weren’t a simple thing to talk about. They were capital “S” Secrets, the kind that got people tortured into insanity or killed. They were the anchors that guaranteed Voldemort’s survival, and eventually, victory. I trusted both Violet and Sirius, but that wasn’t the end of my concerns.
In our second year, she’d meet Tom Riddle, the ambitious sociopath who murdered Moaning Myrtle and framed Hagrid’s pet acromantula. In fourth year, she’d meet Voldemort proper. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Things might change with my involvement, but I had a feeling she’d have her annual dose of challenges. Like getting a flu shot, but with more murder.
That was excluding anyone else who’d get the bright idea to poke around in the Chosen One’s pretty, little head. What would Voldemort do if he learned that Violet, and by logical conclusion, Dumbledore, knew about the horcruxes?
Obviously, he’d panic. He’d move the horcruxes. He’d make Nagini earlier, or even an eighth. He might even go as far as nine or thirteen to stick to numbers of arithmantic significance. He’d turn a pebble into a horcrux and levitate it to the moon or something equally absurd.
In canon, he only found out about the horcrux hunt when the goblins reported that the cup had been stolen from the Lestrange vault in the seventh book. By that point, he’d known the diary had been destroyed but hadn’t considered a coordinated hunt, merely Lucius’ carelessness. He learned, too little, too late.
In my humble opinion, this was the biggest reason the good guys won. Could I risk it? Was I willing to trust that Voldemort, in all their future encounters, would never try to mind-rape Violet knowing she had both Dumbledore and a seer on her side?
No, no I could not. He wasn’t actually stupid, despite all the memes I remembered to the contrary. Violet’s loyalty wasn’t in doubt. Her mental competence, was.
“Violet, how good are you with occlumency?” I asked, changing the topic. I already knew the answer. “I sent you a primer for Christmas. Have you been practicing?”
She suddenly looked unsure. A sheepish smile spread across her face as her eyes darted back to her plate. “Uh… Yes…?”
“That’s a no, then. I can’t tell you. The reason I’m demanding these things of Sirius, the reason I’m being so heavy-handed, knowing might get people around you killed.”
“It’s not like I can practice without a legilimens,” she huffed. “I tried, but all the primer says is that I should meditate and clear my mind and whatever. How do I even know it’s working?”
I tapped her nose with my wand. “Shall we see? If you can keep me out of your mind for even a single minute, I’ll tell you.”
“You’re a legilimens? You’re a first year,” Sirius said dubiously.
“Mother is thorough. Not the point. The point is, I can’t tell you why I want to give Lucius Malfoy your gold, but it’s a trade I consider worth making.”
“That’s not as convincing seeing how it’s my gold you’re giving away.”
“Fair enough, but I must insist anyway.”
Violet stood with an exasperated huff. “Fine, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll leave so you boys can work things out. The twins are probably wondering what’s taking so long, anyway.”
“Thank you, Violet. I know it’s hard not knowing,” I said softly, placing a hand over hers.
“I trust you, even if you’re unbelievably frustrating.”
So saying, she made to leave, turned around at the door, and came back. She snagged the treacle tart she’d been nibbling at, stuck her tongue out at us, then headed out to join her friends. That left me with a man who didn’t trust me nearly as much as I hoped.
Sirius rolled his eyes goodnaturedly at his goddaughter’s antics. He then turned back to me with an expectant frown. “Alright, Blaise, you’ve got me alone. Out with it. What’s this big secret?”
“Just to be clear, you do know occlu–”
“I do, as all Blacks do. I also have this fancy doohickey that gives legilimens like you a headache when they stick their noses where they’re not wanted,” he said, tapping his lordship ring on the table.
“Good. In a word, Voldemort.” He flinched. Even now, despite being one of the bravest men of his generation, Tom was not “Voldemort,” he was still “You Know Who.” “He’s not dead. He’ll be back and he’ll keep coming back, no matter how many times we kill him.”
“Hooh, boy… You sure we can’t talk about quidditch? Dating advice? You know, I used to be quite the ladykiller. This really isn’t the conversation I expected to have today.”
“Is there ever a good time to talk about him?”
“No, guess not.”
“Anyway, he’s got a limited form of immortality thanks to something called a horcrux. Basically, it’s a soul anchor. You murder someone, then use the feedback to split your own soul. You then lock that fragment in an object. So long as that object exists, you have an anchor to the mortal plane.”
“I get the idea. That… That’s what you want the sword for. You said you need it to destroy a cursed item, for Violet’s sake. You know where it is.”
“I know where some are,” I said. Technically, it was even true.
He paled. “Some? As in plural?”
“Yup. And if the dark lord ever meets Violet, and he decides to look in her mind…” I didn’t need to finish; the way he gripped the table told me he understood. “Yeah, things get messy, fast. Do teach her occlumency when you can, Sirius.”
“I-I’ve never been the best at this, but I guess I’ve got a reason to learn. I’ll get on that,” he said shakily. He eyed my cane with newfound appreciation. “And the sword. You’ll get it. But why the gold?”
“If I’m right, and he made more than one, and he himself is taken off the field, who would be entrusted with guarding one?”
“Lucius…”
“And now you know what I know,” I lied. He knew as much as was necessary.
He half rose from his seat. “I’m going to kill–”
“You won’t,” I said sharply. “You’ll do nothing that keeps Violet from having an adult in her life who gives a fuck about her for a change.”
“I… You’re right. You’re going to bribe Lucius into giving it up. Will that really work?”
“Why not? No one knows how terrible the dark lord’s reign was better than those who were closest to him. Lucius Malfoy has everything he could ever want right now: Power. Influence. Wealth. A daughter he dearly and desperately loves.”
“I get where you’re coming from, but we’ll still want that in writing. A magically binding contract. I remember Cissy and she’s as cunning as you snakes get, no offense.”
“Yup. While we’re at it, take the chance to name Violet your heiress. If the public ever gets wind of this, you’ll use that as an excuse for why you gave them so much money, an apology for passing over Lyra.”
“As if I’d ever bother,” he snorted. Even discounting the gold, House Black had plenty of things of worth.
“No, but optics do matter and we both know Lyra has the better claim, even if Dorea Black did marry a Potter.”
“And Dumbledore? Does he know about the horcruxes?”
“He probably suspects. I’m reluctant to tell him. I request that you don’t mention it, either.”
“Why? He’s the one. If anyone can stop You Know Who from coming back, it’s him.”
“We’re working towards the same goal. But if I don’t help him, he’s brilliant enough that he’ll arrive at the conclusions on his own. Along the way, he might catch something that I’ve missed. Remember, I see a portion of the future, never the whole thing.”
He leaned back in his seat. Taking out his flask, he considered pouring more into his tea then chugged it straight. “You know, Violet said you could be trusted.”
“I don’t lie. It’s a seer thing.”
“She also said you’re the scariest kid in the school.”
“That’s also a seer thing,” I said, smiling.
“I don’t remember Trelawney being anything like you, but fine. You’ve got a deal, Blaise. I’m willing to sign over all the galleons in the Black vault. To you. You transfer it to Lucius when you get the horcrux.”
“Then I consider your debt to me repaid, Lord Black. Shall we rejoin the girls? I think they wanted to go shopping while they had the chance.”
X
After a bit more back and forth, the two of us rejoined the girls. They were sitting around a booth, trying to act like they hadn’t been gossiping about what we could have been talking about. In front of them were their half-eaten lunches: fish and chips for Parvati, chicken pot pie for Padma, and some sausage and yorkshire pudding for Violet.
I nudged Parvati deeper into the booth with my butt as Sirius sat next to Violet. Grinning eagerly, I took half of her remaining cod and tore off a chunk. The little teatime sandwiches were nice, but now that the important conversation was done, I found myself craving something more substantial.
The fish was flaky and juicy. The crust was crisp yet not too oily. The tartar sauce was herby, sweet, and sour in perfect balance. Truly, the Three Broomsticks was an institution. They didn't have an expansive menu, but they'd long since perfected the core staples.
Parvati whined petulantly as I took a big bite of the leftover cod. “Oi, I was saving that.”
“I know. It tastes better because it’s yours,” I replied happily, helping myself to her side of cole slaw as well.
“You’re such a jerk. Why do people like you?”
“Must be my dashing good looks.”
“You’re not that cute.”
I leaned into her with a roguish grin. “I don’t know. I take after mom and there’s an entire cemetery of people who’d disagree with you.”
She rolled her eyes and secured the last of her fried fish before I could steal it. “Whatever. Anyway, how’d it go?”
Violet looked at her godfather, then the cane in his hand. “Wow… You caved, didn't you, Sirius? Just rolled over and gave him everything he asked for, huh?”
“Now, I wouldn’t say that,” Sirius coughed awkwardly.
“I told you he’s convincing, didn’t I?”
“So you did, pup,” he said, ruffling her already messy hair.
Violet slapped his hand aside with a pouty grumble. “I’m not a pup.”
“If anything, isn’t she a fawn? James was a stag, after all,” I pointed out.
“I’m not venison, either. Violet is Violet.”
“Violet also likes speaking in the third person.”
“Violet would like for you to shut the fuck up.”
Sirius chuckled as he watched her face go red. He stole a bite of sausage from her plate and stood. “Now, as enjoyable as this has been, we really must get moving. As much as I’d love to spend time with my goddaughter and her friends, I don’t have all day.”
“Hmm? You have plans for this afternoon?”
“I do. I need to meet with Andy to go over what to say tomorrow. She's making me write a speech.”
“What's tomorrow?”
“Lord Black's reinstatement ceremony. Whenever a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight retires or is otherwise replaced, the Wizengamot conducts a ceremony swearing them into the office,” Padma filled her in.
“Oh, boring political stuff, got it. Wait, how do you know that?”
“Because she's a nerd,” her twin faux-whispered.
“I read the papers. The Daily Prophet ran a mini-series on the general political structures and traditions surrounding the Wizengamot.”
“See? She reads. Like a nerd.”
“So does Blaise!”
“Because he's also a nerd,” Parvati nodded, as if me reading the news only proved her point.
Violet rolled her eyes with a fond smile. “Should… Should I go to that? I mean, Professor McGonagall would probably let me if I asked.”
Sirius waved her off. “Nah, no need. Like you said, it’ll just be a bunch of boring old people posturing about laws even older and more boring than they are. Come on, let's go. How's Spintwitches Sporting Needs sound?”
X
Spintwitches Sporting Needs was the place to be in Hogsmeade when it came to quidditch supplies. They sold everything a wizard or witch might want, from brooms to all the little accessories a “true” quidditch star needed. Including cleats. I had no idea what the fuck a quidditch player needed cleats for, but they sold them.
The star of the show was, of course, the Nimbus 2000. It sat pride of place at the center of the store, cordoned off and lit from all angles as if it was a museum exhibit.
“That. We’ll take that,” Sirius said after a quick look-around. “James would be so proud of you, Violet. He used to be the Gryffindor seeker too, you know.”
“So everyone tells me,” Violet laughed awkwardly. “And I already have a Nimbus 2000.”
“Y-You do?”
“She does. Professor McGonagall gave it to her when she made the team,” Parvati chimed in.
I’d never seen a man deflate faster. “O-Oh. Well, pick whatever you need. It’s on me.”
“I don’t really need anything,” Violet said, making Sirius deflate even more. “My gear’s pretty good, actually.”
I decided to throw the old dog a bone. “He’s trying to spoil you. You know, catch up on all those birthdays he missed.”
“I mean, I appreciate it, but I’m kind of not big on birthdays. Seriously, you only have to see Dudley pig out once to put you off the idea forever.”
“Still, you should consider letting him, especially since, you know.”
“I know what?”
“That thing Lord Black and I talked about?”
“Oh! Yeah, that!”
I rolled my eyes. The diary for the Black vault. That obviously meant all of Sirius’ wealth, at least the galleons, would be going to Lucius. All I had to do was imply that it’d all become Lyra’s money eventually before Violet decided she didn’t mind spending it.
It made me wonder what the two’s relationship would look like later on in life. Draco and Harry made peace, and Draco raised his kid without the extremism he grew up with, but they never became friends. I had a feeling that kind of tepid resolution wasn’t likely with Lyra and Violet. Maybe I was stereotyping genders, but they’d probably be best friends or mortal enemies for life, no in-between.
In the end, Violet left the store with a personal golden snitch, a set of gloves, and hair ties guaranteed to not come loose no matter the weather. Both the snitch and gloves had her initials monogrammed onto them in exquisite but no doubt expensive detail.
The gloves were made from acromantula silk and erumpent leather that had been worked until it was softer than a baby’s ass. Apparently, they were actually necessary additions to her kit. The high altitude and constant movement made hands wet and clammy. They were endorsed by Gwenog Jones, the number one female quidditch player currently active.
Sirius left after that, saying how he didn’t want to cramp our style. Really, he didn’t want to keep Andromeda Tonks waiting. From what little I knew about the Black sisters, that was probably wise.
It wasn’t as if we stuck around long, anyway. Hogsmeade weekend was once every month in this reality, not once every semester. The village had mostly lost its luster so we kept our shopping brief. Padma wanted new pruning shears from Dogweed and Deathcap and Parvati just restocked her candy supply which had run low since last semester.
“Really, Blaise?” Padma eyed me as I went off-road a bit. She giggled softly at the long stick in my hand. At almost five feet long, it was the perfect length to replace my cane. “And here I thought you were done with walking sticks.”
I smiled boyishly as I used a cutting charm to de-branch the haft of bog oak. It was about as thick as two of my thumbs, and black as coal. Most woods needed to be hardened over a fire to use as a staff. A metal cap on the foot wouldn’t go amiss, either. I didn’t know if bog oak needed these things, since the wood was already semi-fossilized and all, but Hagrid probably knew how to work with the material.
Now that I thought about it, this would probably be a good excuse to go talk to him. I’d been meaning to, he was one of my favorite characters, but I’d always had other things on my mind. This way, I could talk to him about the dragon egg he’d been keeping while I was there.
The three of us headed back to Honeyduke’s. The cashier gave us a knowing smile as we ducked into the store’s cellar.
I spun the newly shaped walking stick in my hand. “I may not need it anymore, but it’s a part of my look now. Having one feels right, you know?”
Violet elbowed me with a shit-eating grin like the gremlin she was. “You mean you like stroking a long, thick stick? In public? Why, Blaise, I didn’t know you were a wizard’s wizard. Eh, eh?”
“You’re just mad I won’t tell you what Sirius and I talked about.”
“I am! Tell me!” she prodded my side insistently, though I could tell she was mostly joking.
“No,” I said with a zen smile. I booped her nose for good measure.
Her eyes crossed as they tracked my finger. With a playful growl, she pounced. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist and I suddenly found myself carrying five feet of punk-ass gremlin. “Tell me, rawr!”
I rolled my eyes but obligingly put away my wand so I could catch her butt. She weighed practically nothing. “Still no.”
“Then you’re going to carry me back to Hogwarts.”
“Of course, milady.”
“And you’re teaching me occlumency until I’m good enough.”
“Blaise is a legilimens? Figures,” Parvati muttered under her breath. “It’s like you’re trying to be the shadiest guy in our year.”
“Are you sure, Violet?” Padma asked. “Not that Blaise isn’t a nice enough bloke, but he’ll be in your head.”
Violet stilled on my back. She then squirmed as if she was being tased. “Nonono! That’s so–No! Never! You’re not allowed in my head, Blaise!”
I jostled the unreasonable girl, making her bounce on my back. “You know, that’s what occlumency lessons are, right? You let someone stress test your shields. With legilimency.”
“I don’t care! Find another way!”
“You’re asking for the impossible. There isn’t any point to me teaching you occlumency if I don’t actively test your defenses.”
“Dont. Care.”
“Then I can’t teach you.”
“Teach me anyway.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” I chided. Then, more gently, “You know I already know about the Dursleys, right?”
I felt her nudge her head into the back of my neck. I almost didn’t hear what she said next. “That’s not why, you idiot.”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, forget it,” she huffed. She got off my back and lit her wand with a lumos before stalking ahead.
I turned to eye the twins in confusion. “Was it something I said?”
They gave each other a longsuffering look before sighing in tandem. Padma nudged me with an exasperated smile. “You know, it’s moments like these that I remember you’re still our age.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Don’t worry, it’d honestly be weirder if you did,” Parvati added, patting my cheek with an affectionate smile.
“Should… Should I scry this?”
The whirled as one, pinning me with twin, withering glares. For a pair of girls about as tall as my chin, they were weirdly intimidating.
“Don’t you dare,” Padma hissed.
“Yeah, a girl’s gotta keep some secrets,” Parvati insisted.
“Okay, geez, weird girl things, got it,” I said, conceding the point. Clearly, there were things man was not meant to know, not even if that man was a seer.
Author’s Note
Sirius is told serious secrets. Kids go shopping. Blaise acquires yet another bonking stick. Violet continues to be a gremlin. Such is life.
Bog oak is not a specific type of oak. It’s oak wood that has been buried in a bog or swamp for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. The low oxygen environment keeps it from rotting normally while the acidic peat reacts with the tannins in the wood to give it a unique color.
No, I don’t do any woodworking myself, haven’t done any since high school woodshop. That said, I know people that do and it’s a really cool kind of wood so it stood out to me. And coincidentally, bog oak is frequently used in Ireland and Scotland.
We can tick off clueless protagonist on the tropes bingo, right? Right. He’ll probably figure it out if he sits down to think about it for more than a moment or two. It’s mostly that he really doesn’t want to think about a fourteen year old girl head over heels for him.
Animal Fact: Ravens often mate for life, but non-breeding ravens form murders. These flocks contain complex, surprisingly stable social dynamics. Hierarchy is based on both perceived strength and age.
That said, individuals in a murder do deceive or fuck with each other. In 2002, Bugnyar & Kotrschal at the University of Vienna found that groups of foraging ravens compete against one another. They tend to scatter-hoard food, storing up small amounts of edibles in a number of locations.
Ravens could be divided into two roles: cachers and raiders. Cachers looked for hiding places to store food while raiders did their best to remain inconspicuous, stealing the food when the opportunity arose. In response, cachers would frequently interrupt their own foraging, move cache sites, or recover the items.
This interplay suggests that ravens are smart enough to compete in "tactical" deception.