Chapter Text
Chapter Fourteen: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Gareth cautiously proceeded with his department’s normal arrangements when a child’s next of kin were identified, the silence from Dumbledore all too ominous. Rather than call another emergency Wizengamot meeting, Dumbledore had sent out a missive to all members confirming Lord Greengrass would be notifying the Wizengamot when he had completed the screening process for Mr Potter’s viable guardian, Lord Arcturus Black.
On the one hand, Gareth could understand the man realising he simply could not force a vote to have other candidates considered, when to do so would be breaching their clear family legislation. It was a wise tactical decision – even some of his own supporters would raise an eyebrow at Dumbledore trying to overturn the rules that clearly dictated a child should go to their immediate relatives.
But the idea of Dumbledore allowing Harry to be placed with Lord Black without protest, particularly given the lord was ageing and might soon have to name someone else in his extended family as Harry’s new guardian, seemed ludicrous.
There was an angle here Gareth could not yet see.
It made every instinct in him scream out in warning.
For now, he was focusing on doing his job, reaching out to Lord Black for an audience, citing official Ministry business as his purpose for meeting. He had never visited the man for a social call – Lord Black was notoriously reclusive, and had been since before Gareth could remember.
Although Lord Black did attend the meetings of Morgana’s Court, he rarely spoke, and never hosted a single meeting in all the time Gareth had been a member. The man was truly an enigma.
He received an owl in return the following day, offering a meeting at Black Castle that Sunday afternoon. Gareth had never actually been to the Black family’s ancestral family home – his own parents had told him tales about the famous castle, but he had certainly never seen it himself.
Lord Black’s son, Orion, had lived in the Black family’s townhouse in London with his wife and their sons. Gareth had seen Grimmauld Place before, but never Black Castle.
Preparing to leave after checking his appearance for the third time, slightly nervous to be meeting alone with the mysterious Lord Black, Gareth ducked his head into Harry’s bedroom after knocking.
The boy was sitting in the window seat, sheets of parchment scattered around him as he made notes with a Muggle pen. Since Friday, the boy had been drafting different versions of letters he wanted to be taken to Sirius Black. Until he was ready, Gareth would be holding off arranging a meeting with the man.
Harry had also had his first counselling session the previous afternoon with the Specialist Healer they had booked. He had emerged from the initial session with red-rimmed eyes, looking fragile. Rosie had been ready to fire the specialist on the spot and banish him from her home, but Gareth had calmed his wife’s fury with the assurance that it was normal for the first few sessions to be difficult.
Specialist Healer Grace had gently suggested he come to visit once a week for a couple of months, and then they could investigate possibly making the sessions less frequent depending on Harry’s progress.
“Are you going to meet with Lord Black now?” Harry asked, putting his crumpled parchment to the side to stand.
“Yes, it will just be an initial meeting to let him know the situation and his rights and responsibilities,” Gareth confirmed.
“When can I meet him?” Harry questioned, fiddling with his lumpy jumper. At least the jumper fit properly now that Rosie had seen to it – but they really did need to get Harry some new clothes.
“Usually we need to screen multiple candidates, but because there is only one, you should be able to meet him soon, if all goes well,” Gareth said.
“I want you to tell him I’m a dark wizard,” Harry said determinedly. Then suddenly uncertain he added hesitantly, “Will that…perhaps help make him like me?”
Gareth cocked his head, observing the boy’s obvious worry. It seemed more than a normal worry of what a stranger might think of you – there was something really bothering him.
“Is there a reason you think Lord Black will not like you?” Gareth asked neutrally.
“My mum was Muggleborn,” Harry whispered. “I’m a half blood right?”
Gareth came to sit down on the seat at the end of Harry’s bed, giving the boy his full attention. “Why do you think that means Lord Black will not like you?”
Harry looked down thinking, before he looked up and said quietly, “On Friday, Ezra was teaching us about purebloods, half bloods, and Muggleborns. I couldn’t help but look at my family tree and see that all of my ancestors who were members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, only married other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or at the very least they married purebloods. Ezra said you are classified as a pureblood in Britain if you have no direct Muggle ancestors for seven generations. None of them married half bloods or Muggleborns. Except for my dad. Did he do something wrong?”
“No, he did not,” Gareth told Harry firmly. “Your mother was a brilliant witch by all accounts. And I’m sure she and your father loved each other very much. There was nothing wrong with their marriage.”
Seeing Harry still looked uncertain, Gareth added cautiously, “I’m afraid there is certainly a sentiment among some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and other older pureblood families that half bloods and Muggleborns should be excluded from marrying into our bloodlines.”
Harry ducked his head, worried that the Blacks were one such family who held these beliefs.
“But it is wrong, and not all share these out-dated beliefs. If Lord Black thinks that you having Lily Potter for a mother is somehow a bad thing, then he is not a suitable guardian for you, Harry.” Harry looked up from where he had been staring intently at the floor, to meet Gareth’s eyes. “Times are changing, Harry. Whilst it is important for the dark and light families to protect our legacies, if we do not share our magic with the rest of society, then we will all go extinct. We need new blood.”
“With families like the Gaunts going extinct though – isn’t there more pressure for dark families to marry into each other to preserve dark magical cores?” Harry asked.
“Do you know what happened to the Gaunt family?” Gareth questioned Harry, leaning forward.
After Harry shook his head Gareth explained, “They were so obsessed with blood purity that they not only refused to marry anyone who was not pureblood, but they also refused to marry into any other family that was not dark. They became plagued with health complications – I know you’ve learned about the dangers of inbreeding. Soon none of the dark families were willing to marry into the Gaunts – they had driven themselves to ruin in their obsession with blood purity. So they started marrying each other.”
Harry grimaced, feeling slightly ill at the thought.
“The last living descendants before their premature deaths were reputedly magically weak, sickly and mentally unwell. The fate of the Gaunts is the same fate that the rest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight faces if we continue to marry only each other.” Gareth smiled ruefully as he added, “I know this is all rich coming from me – I married Rosie, who is not only part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight but also a dark witch. However, make no mistake that Daphne and Astoria are free to marry who they want. Rosie and I will put no expectations on our daughters to marry someone with a dark magical core, or even a pureblood.”
Harry was shocked at the confession that Gareth and Rosie had no intention of even encouraging their daughters to eventually marry people with dark magical cores.
“But…what about your family’s legacy? What if they both end up with people who don’t have dark magical cores, and then none of their possible children inherit any dark magic? Won’t that mean they will have failed to uphold their promise to magic - they'll be considered blood traitors?”
Gareth spread his hands and said quietly, “There is the root of the problem, Harry. It’s the gamble we take when we marry those with neutral cores. The light families have already adapted – for the past few generations they have been carefully marrying into new bloodlines, ensuring the emergence of new generations of light witches and wizards. The dark families have been far slower and more reluctant to do this, so there are very few dark witches and wizards born outside of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The dark families now walk on the edge of a knife. We risk becoming extinct, or becoming blood traitors in our efforts to stay alive.”
“We need new blood,” Harry echoed Gareth’s words, truly understanding now.
“Yes,” Gareth nodded.
Rising to his feet, aware he had an appointment to keep with Lord Black, Gareth affirmed again, “If Lord Black cannot see past any prejudice he might have towards Muggleborns, then he will not get custody of you. I will not put you in an environment where your existence is seen as anything less than the blessing it is.”
“Thank you, Gareth,” Harry whispered.
Using the coordinates Lord Black had provided in his letter, Gareth appeared with a crack of Apparition, now standing in the middle of the Lake District in north-western England.
He was standing on the edge of Grizedale Forest, the woodland area particularly stunning with splashes of red, gold and green making up the autumn vista. Walking away from the edge of the woodland and into a field of blooming heather, Gareth kept a sharp eye out for what he was looking for.
After pacing forward for about thirty feet from the treeline, Gareth blinked as the windswept moorland in front of him suddenly was cut through by a long thoroughfare, wide enough to accommodate four cars abreast.
The road was lined with dramatic elm trees, and as Gareth followed the thoroughfare with his eyes all the way into the distance he could finally see where the grand avenue was leading.
Black Castle did not disappoint.
The ancestral home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black seemed to pierce the heavens, now that Gareth was through the wards that kept the property hidden from prying eyes.
Two quadrilateral-shaped building complexes sprawled to either side of a massive circular tower that seemed to watch over the surrounding moorland for miles around. The entire complex was sheltered by imposing walls, topped with battlements.
He paused to take it in, in awe of laying eyes on Black Castle for the fist time. The stories from his parents simply did not do the property justice. The Black family did not just own the castle – they owned all of the grounds leading up to its walls, including the grand avenue Gareth was standing on, which stretched towards the castle for about five kilometres.
According to his parents too, on the other side of the castle was a natural lake, manicured gardens, and sweeping orchards that put the grounds of royalty to shame.
The massive circular tower in the middle of the complex Gareth believed to be called 'Morgana’s Tower' – claimed by the Black family to have been at one point owned by the famous witch. The family had long asserted that after Morgana's death, ownership of the tower had passed between numerous hands until it eventually ended up in the possession of the early ancestors of the Black family, who over the generations had expanded their home into a lower and upper ward, connected to the original tower by stepped curtain walls. Whether it was true or not was up for debate, but the Blacks were certainly proud of their claimed connection to the Dark Lady Morgana.
The thought suddenly occurred to Gareth of how long it was going to take him to walk the entire way up to the grand gatehouse in the far distance. Just as it occurred to him, there was a soft pop and a house elf appeared.
The wizened elf was dressed in a dark green tunic trimmed in gold thread. The family crest was proudly displayed over the creature’s heart – the three ravens on the symbol moving ever so slightly, shuffling their plumage and eyeing Gareth with their onyx black eyes.
“Lord Greengrass,” the elf said with a low bow. “Lord Black sends me to escort you to the Upper Ward, where he will receive you in the Grand Reception Room. If you will accompany Torley?”
Gareth willingly extended his hand, the house elf reaching across to touch one finger to the back of Gareth’s gloved hand. He was instantaneously pulled away by the house elf’s magic, appearing in a grand hallway that seemed to stretch infinitely in both directions.
Although it was lavishly decorated, and impeccably clean, the hallway seemed very dim, and Gareth could not help but notice the curtains pulled over all of the portraits. Torley distracted him from his musings by gesturing to the heavy oak doors and stating, “Lord Black will see you now.”
Without waiting for confirmation, the house elf snapped his fingers, causing the doors to swing open slowly. The room revealed within was illuminated by a huge chandelier that hung suspended across the ceiling.
The back wall was filled with a grand window that allowed natural light to enter the room from floor to ceiling, displaying a breath-taking view of a sprawling green lawn leading to the edge of a lake, that stretched as far as Gareth’s eyes could see, nestled between two mountains.
On one side of the long room there was a large fireplace, where a fire blazed, popping and crackling away. The other side caught Gareth’s attention – the entire wall bore a finely woven tapestry that seemed to display the Black family tree.
Lord Arcturus Black was seated in a finely upholstered chair by the window at the back of the room, dark eyes intent on Gareth as he stood in the entrance to the room. Gareth knew they were equals – they were both lords, both with distinguished magical legacies. He had seen Lord Black before at meetings of Morgana’s Court.
But in that moment, he had the sudden sensation that he was standing before wizarding royalty.
“Lord Greengrass to see you, Lord Black,” Torley stated, bowing even lower than he had for Gareth earlier.
Lord Black waved his hand, and Torley retreated from the room, the heavy oak doors swinging shut behind him and leaving Gareth alone with the Black family patriarch.
The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire, both men seemingly assessing each other for a moment.
“Thank you for allowing me to visit you, Lord Black,” Gareth said, bowing his head briefly.
“Come, sit,” Lord Black stated, gesturing to the chair opposite his own near the window. His voice was deep and authoritative.
Gareth approached, taking a seat where indicated and settling the sealed leather tube he had brought with him, by his side. He saw those intelligent onyx eyes appraise the item, before they rose back to meet his own eyes.
“What is this official Ministry business you needed to meet with me to discuss?” Lord Black asked, face unreadable.
This was an eighty-seven year old man, with silver hair and a face creased with age, yet Gareth got the distinct impression that if the man felt threatened, he would truly put up a vicious fight.
Sensing the man would value his directness, Gareth replied bluntly, “Your grandson, Sirius Black, magically adopted a child in 1980. The child’s biological parents are dead, and you have been identified as the next of kin.”
Lord Black did not react in any way, his body incredibly still.
“Who is the child,” he demanded, rather than asked.
“Harry Potter.”
Of all the reactions Gareth had been expecting, Lord Black tilting his head back and laughing was rather low on the list. Although he seemed amused on the surface, there was a hoarse quality to the laugh that gave it a distinctly bitter quality.
Uncertain how to interpret the man laughing at the news, Gareth slowly opened the sealed leather tube, pulling out the rolled up parchment from within, in order to show him the results of the Heritage Test.
“Forgive an old man’s antics, Lord Greengrass,” the man said as his laughter tapered off. He glanced at the parchment being pulled out and guessed astutely, “The Heritage Test?”
“Yes,” Gareth confirmed quietly. Unable to resist asking he said, “Why did you laugh when I told you?”
Lord Black assessed Gareth, expression turning completely neutral once more. At last he replied, “Consider it the laughter of a vindicated man, as hollow as the victory is.”
Not understanding, Gareth frowned slightly, turning over the words in his head. In the meantime he unrolled the huge length of parchment, facing it towards Lord Black, so he had a clear view.
There was an elegant ebony table between their seats that was not large enough to display the entire family tree, so Gareth slowly reached for his wand, broadcasting his actions to the other man, as he pulled it out and cast a nonverbal spell to levitate the parchment between them.
Lord Black read over the results in silence, eyes lingering over the name Sirius Orion Black, and specifically the connections linking Harry to the Black family through both his biological and adopted father.
“What happens now?” Lord Black eventually asked, after reviewing the results of the Heritage Test.
Gareth continued to feel wrong-footed, expecting the man to at least put up some sort of resistance to Harry’s adoption into the Black family. Their family motto was Toujours Pur – Always Pure. He was raising no issues with the son of a Muggleborn having been adopted by his grandson, nor the child being potentially placed with him.
Wanting to test some of the man’s boundaries, Gareth said cautiously, “You are the rightful guardian of Harry, regardless of Sirius Black’s disownment from-”
“He was not disowned,” Lord Black cut in, voice quiet but commanding.
Gareth paused, shocked.
It was one of the most well known pieces of family drama – Sirius Black had run away from home when he was sixteen, and his mother, Walburga, had loudly and publically announced his disinheritance and disownment from the Black family.
But to hear the head of the house, the same one who was head at the time Sirius would have been disowned, denying that to be the case…
“My daughter-in-law might have made a grand gesture in declaring him disowned to all of society, but the power to do so lies with me and me alone. And I saw no reason to throw my grandson out of this family,” Lord Black continued.
“There’s a tapestry in Grimmauld Place that looks like the one displayed on the wall here,” Gareth said, nodding to the tapestry in the room. “On that tapestry, Sirius Black’s name has been burned off, among others.”
Lord Black gestured to the tapestry in the room with them and said, “Take a look at the tapestry here. This is the original – the version in Grimmauld Place is a mere copy. My daughter-in-law could blast off all the family members she pleased, but it does not change the fact that they are still part of this family, if I say so.”
Gareth rose with the man’s permission, approaching the tapestry to examine it. He saw that not only was the name Sirius Black still woven into the tapestry, but so too was the name of his uncle, Alphard Black. Perhaps most shockingly, Andromeda Tonks née Black, her husband, Edward Tonks, and their daughter, Nymphadora, were all present on the family tapestry too.
Lord Black silently approached, coming to stand by Gareth’s shoulder. He reached out to brush a hand over Sirius’ name. “Sirius remains, to this day, my heir.”
Noticing Gareth’s shocked stare towards where the names of Andromeda Tonks, her Muggleborn husband and her half blood daughter were displayed on the family tapestry, Arcturus acknowledged, “My cousin Pollux and his son Cygnus did try to convince me to disown Andromeda and her child. I refused.”
Whatever opinion and assumptions Gareth had made about Lord Black from the few interactions they had, had over the years, was being rapidly unravelled. It occurred to him that he had never heard Lord Black use a slur such as Mudblood in all of the meetings at Morgana’s Court, nor had he expressed any pureblood supremacy sentiments. Admittedly though, the man barely spoke, so it had been hard to get much of an impression of him.
“Did you approve of Andromeda’s marriage to a Muggleborn?” Gareth asked, dumbfounded.
Lord Black looked at him sharply and said, “Approval implies endorsement. That is not the word I would use, Lord Greengrass.”
“How would you describe it then?” Gareth asked incredulously.
Lord Black stared at the woman’s name on the tapestry for a few moments, dark eyes thoughtful. “Our family is not what it used to be. There are so few of us now,” the man murmured. Almost to himself he added, “And I made a promise. To put family above everything else.”
Suddenly Lord Black spoke up, turning away from the family tapestry to look at Gareth and say, “You asked me why I laughed earlier.”
Gareth nodded, replying, “You said it was the laughter of a vindicated man.”
“My son and daughter-in-law pushed their children to ruin. They drove Sirius away when he did not fit into the mould they prepared for him, and then they allowed Regulus to become a Death Eater, dying for that madman. When Sirius ran away, they insisted he had turned away from not only his family, but also his dark heritage. There was not a doubt in their minds that Sirius had rejected every aspect of the Black family and our traditions.”
Lord Black asked Gareth conversationally, “But do you know where Sirius went, after he ran away?”
Gareth shook his head – he knew the man had run away as a teenager but not where.
Lord Black pointed to a spot on the tapestry, where the name Dorea Potter née Black was displayed, alongside Charlus Potter. Underneath was James Potter; with Lily Potter née Evans tied to his name, Harry James Potter underneath them both.
Gareth realised this original tapestry was far larger than the copy at Grimmauld, which only recorded the descendants of the male Blacks.
“He went to my cousin, Dorea. James Potter’s mother. His own parents had no idea where their son went, but I knew, because Dorea told me he was safe with her.”
“Were you close with your cousin?” Gareth asked.
“I was,” Lord Black confirmed, face closing off. His eyes were fixed on Dorea’s name on the tapestry.
Gareth sensed an old grief there, and quickly changed the subject. “So, Sirius continued to live with a member of your family – and you have reason to believe he did not reject his dark heritage too?”
A wry smirk came to Arcturus Black’s face and he said, “The mere fact that Sirius magically adopted Harry Potter, is enough to prove to me he not only did not reject his legacy – but he embraced it. I never lost faith in my grandson, though my son and daughter-in-law did.”
Magical adoption was dark magic, but Gareth was not certain how that proved Sirius was embracing his dark heritage – given it was a legal form of magic and generally accepted.
“Tell me, Lord Greengrass, do you know why Harry Potter is not recorded on this tapestry under Sirius’ name?”
“I assumed it was because this tapestry is not enchanted to record magical adoptions,” Gareth answered honestly.
“You’re right, it lacks the enchantment to record adoptions. But there is a reason why,” Lord Black told him.
The elderly man cocked his head to one side as he examined his own family tree, as it stretched up high towards the ceiling. Gareth stayed silent, waiting for the man to explain further.
“If this tapestry did record magical adoptions, it would be covered in them.”
Gareth looked at him sharply, a question in his eyes.
“Every family has its traditions, Lord Greengrass. Every family has its secrets. And one of ours is magical adoption. It plays a vital role in ensuring our dark heritage is passed from one generation to the next, even when one parent has a neutral magical core. Sirius knew this. So did Dorea’s son, James Potter. That is why they ensured Harry was magically adopted – they were both honouring one of the noblest traditions of this family. They ensured Harry Potter inherited a dark magical core.”
Lord Black looked at Gareth’s face closely, and whatever he saw on the other man’s face satisfied him. He nodded, saying aloud, “Yes, the boy is a dark wizard, I know that. It was guaranteed by his parents actions.”
“Why is this not widely known?” Gareth found his voice at last. “If the Black family has been using adoptions for generations to ensure children are born with dark magical cores, why did they not share this method with the other dark families?”
“Pride, shame and prejudice, Lord Greengrass,” Lord Black murmured. “My ancestors have hidden this tradition, even from our own tapestries, to maintain the illusion that our bloodline is so potently dark and pure that any child born of the Black line is guaranteed to be born with a dark magical core. And because they were ashamed that we have been left with no choice but to marry outside of other dark bloodlines, and have to rely on adoption to ensure our children continue our legacy. Finally, prejudice. We built a narrative, which is shared by most of the dark families, that keeping half bloods and Muggleborns out of our family lines is essential and justified for our survival. But with magical adoptions, you can have a child with anyone, and guarantee they inherit your dark heritage.”
Lord Black continued, one hand tracing gently over the name of his deceased daughter, Lucretia Prewett née Black. “Both of my children were magically adopted, because my wife Melania was from the Macmillan family, and she had a neutral core. My cousin, Cassiopeia, had the honour of becoming my children’s adoptive mother, as she had no intention of having children of her own. This ensured Lucretia and Orion were both born with dark magical cores.”
Gareth blinked in shock, realising that meant Cassiopeia was not only Harry’s great-aunt, but also technically his adoptive great-grandmother. He realised in hindsight that only Harry’s own adoption would show up on the Heritage Test, as it was related to his own blood, and any other adoptions in his extended family would not have been recorded through the test.
Lord Black continued, “My father adopted his brother’s children; Pollux, Cassiopeia and Dorea. They are my cousins, but technically also my adopted siblings. My brother, Lycoris Black, never had any children of his own but he adopted Pollux’s children; Walburga, Alphard and Cygnus. Walburga and Cygnus both married partners with dark magical cores, and Alphard never married.”
“I offered to adopt Dorea’s son when he was born,” Arcturus Black stated calmly, like he was discussing the weather and not revealing the secrets of the Black family. “She refused, not because she was ashamed of her dark heritage, but because she wanted to leave the decision up to magic itself whether her son James would take after her, or her husband Charlus, who had a neutral core.”
Gareth realised the truth as Lord Black was confirming, “James Potter was a dark wizard. I was there when we tested him with the Mirror Sphere as a baby.”
There had always been a possibility James was born dark, but to hear the confirmation turned Gareth’s view on the Potters on its head anyway. “But James was loyal to Dumbledore. He never voiced any support for the Dark Arts,” Gareth pointed out cautiously.
“The fault, I fear, is mine,” Lord Black stated. “I am quick to criticise my son and daughter-in-law for attempting to force Sirius into a certain mould, but I too was guilty of attempting to do exactly the same. When I learned Dorea’s son was dark, I pressured her to allow me to teach the boy when he was old enough. I wanted her back into the family fold. However, she and her husband wanted to raise James free of any expectations that he would learn the Dark Arts, and they refused to let me be involved.”
The elderly man’s face grew regretful. “I tried to force the matter. Dorea rightfully put me in my place, and forbade me from interfering with her son. She grew estranged, and James never went public with the fact he was a dark wizard. The next time I heard from my cousin was years later when she sent me the message to inform me Sirius was safe with her.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” Gareth whispered, still in shock with everything that had just been so willingly revealed to him.
“Why hide it anymore?” Lord Black replied. “Any shame I shared with my ancestors of being forced to rely on magical adoptions to keep our dark heritage alive died some time ago. I’m sure Pollux will disagree with my choice in spilling our family secrets, but my dear cousin disagrees with everything I do, so this will be no different. The truth of the matter is that you can have children with anyone, and still guarantee your dark legacy is passed on, as long as one biological parent has a dark magical core, and the adopted parent does too. Harry Potter is the living proof that we can even have children with Muggleborns and ensure they inherit dark magical cores.”
“He is powerful,” Gareth confirmed. “The darkest magical core I’ve ever seen, for an eight year old child. We also recently discovered he has inherited the Black family trait – he’s a Metamorphmagus.”
Arcturus looked pleasantly surprised, before acknowledging, “Given his legacy, I am not surprised he is powerful, but inheriting the Metamorphmagi trait is a wonderful blessing. Both his biological and adoptive fathers were powerful dark wizards in their own right. They knew what they were doing when Sirius magically adopted Harry. They were honouring this family’s traditions, and passing their dark magic onto the next generation. And so, I laughed, Lord Greengrass. Because I remembered the words of my daughter, telling me to put my faith in family, above all else. Telling me I would be a fool to do anything else. She was right of course – Lucretia was always right. And so, my faith in my grandson, and Dorea’s son, was not misplaced, as I had feared. I was right to believe in them both, regardless of what side they took in the war. But it is a hollow victory, Lord Greengrass. James Potter is dead, and my grandson is in Azkaban for life. This family continues to be broken.”
“You have the chance to change things – to give Harry Potter a good home,” Gareth impressed on the man. “He is so eager to learn about his heritage and embrace our traditions. He already wants to start learning the Dark Arts.”
“I am happy to hear that,” Lord Black murmured, a genuine smile curling his lips. “But I am an old man, Lord Greengrass. I don’t know if I have it in me to raise a child. And it should not be me raising him – but Sirius.”
“Sirius is in Azkaban,” Gareth replied cautiously.
Lord Black looked Gareth in the eye and said, “Knowing that James and Lily trusted my grandson enough to let him magically adopt their child, do you truly believe that he is the one who betrayed them, left his adopted child to the mercy of Voldemort?”
Gareth considered his words carefully before replying, “I admit I have been having doubts about Sirius’ involvement with what happened that night in Godric’s Hollow. However, he was formally charged with the murder of twelve Muggles, and of his friend, Peter Pettigrew. There were eye witness accounts that saw him do it.”
“I know my grandson,” Lord Black insisted. “Sirius was not capable of doing what they have accused him of. He’s innocent – he’s told me himself when I’ve visited him in Azkaban.”
“Why haven’t you contested the charges on his behalf then?” Gareth asked, rather than disagree with the other man’s claims.
Lord Black snapped, “Do you think I have not? Do you think I have sat on my hands for nearly seven years doing nothing while my grandson suffers unjustly in Azkaban? I have petitioned the Ministry tirelessly to have his case reviewed. I have asked for the trial transcripts and have been told they are protected behind 99-year confidentiality laws. They only let me visit him once a year - did you know that? I am his grandfather, the only person who is even allowed to visit him, and I am told that they can only accommodate me once a year!”
The man was yelling towards the end, fury and grief palpable on his face. Gareth was shocked once more into silence. Both at the raw emotion the man was displaying, but also the revelation that the Ministry were so restrictive about letting family visit inmates.
Suddenly a few things about Lord Black were shaping up in Gareth’s mind – his reclusiveness, his silence during meetings of Morgana’s Court, his lack of attendance at social gatherings. This was a man who was suffering, deeply and silently. Too proud to voice his helplessness to the other dark families, and perhaps not trusting them to aid him to release someone they saw as having turned his back on the dark.
“I am planning on pulling some strings in the Ministry to visit him. Harry wants answers about what happened that night in Godric’s Hollow. I want you to come with me when I visit him, if you would consent. Depending on what comes out of that meeting, I could attempt to pass a Wizengamot motion to override those confidentiality laws to open Sirius’ file,” Gareth offered.
“Do this, Lord Greengrass, and I will be indebted to you,” Lord Black said quietly, a seriousness to his words that hinted at a magically binding promise of debt.
But Gareth was already shaking his head stating firmly, “If Sirius Black is truly innocent, then he is Harry’s rightful guardian. Harry deserves to be raised by the man who adopted him.” Then adding with a wince, “If his mind is still intact after his years exposed to the Dementors.”
Rather than get upset Lord Black nodded sharply, admitting, “He has always seemed sane to me when we speak once a year. But he is undeniably affected from his time there.”
“I will arrange a visit with my Ministry contacts as soon as possible and notify you once I have a date and time,” Gareth promised.
“There’s something else you should know,” Lord Black said quietly. “Sirius told me that when he was arrested by the Aurors he was brought before Crouch. There was no jury of peers, no legal representation, and they didn’t even administer Veritaserum. He tells me he never got a trial.”
Gareth paled at the implications of that, a sense of dawning dread coming across him. That information, combined with the fact Sirius Black’s file had been hidden for 99 years, reeked of Ministry mismanagement and a subsequent cover up.
That allegation was enough to justify a Wizengamot motion to open the file, and see for themselves if there had been a trial. But first, Gareth needed to hear it from the man himself.
But he also had to ask, “Why did you never raise these concerns with Morgana’s Court? Myself, Ivan Nott, Lady Burke or Madam Rowle could have raised a motion with the Wizengamot on your behalf.”
“I assume the exact same reason you did not convene the Court to inform them you had custody of Harry Potter. Most of them are Death Eaters, or have ties to Death Eaters. Sirius fought against them in the war. I did not trust them with the information, let alone anticipate any help,” Lord Black said curtly.
“There’s change coming, Lord Black. This method of magical adoption to ensure dark inheritances are passed down will be revolutionary for our survival. We must share it at the next convening of Morgana’s Court. The dark families will come to understand in time, as you have, that pureblood supremacy is just an empty façade of a time long gone by,” Gareth declared passionately.
“Ah, but Lord Greengrass you forget I am eighty-seven. I spent most of my life believing the same things the other families still believe. Change is coming, I agree, but it will be slow. I had to learn these truths slowly, through great loss, and over great time,” Lord Black warned.
Gareth dearly wanted to hear the man’s story, to understand how his views had apparently changed so drastically.
“For now, it is important to put aside the family secrets – and to be more forthright in our beliefs and opinions about Muggleborns. Change won’t happen if we all maintain the status quo, and aren’t willing to challenge our peers. Will you support me in this?” Gareth asked.
Lord Black sighed, muttering, “My parents are no doubt rolling in their graves…but yes, Lord Greengrass. I will support you in pushing for this change.” The man looked around the room, back towards the darkened hallway that lay behind the doors.
Gareth sensed this room had been specially prepared for his visit, but usually the man lingered in this dark, empty castle all alone but for his house elves. It was a terribly sad thought.
“It’s time to come out of the shadows,” Lord Black stated quietly.