Chapter Text
Chapter Thirty-Four: Tell your story with your whole heart
On Friday afternoon a jury of twelve unanimously found Elphias Doge guilty of three charges of abuse of public office, and one charge of failure to protect a child, that child being identified by the media as Harry Potter. He had been remanded into custody on the spot, and sent to Azkaban pending his sentencing.
Albus Dumbledore’s trial was set to begin on Monday, and once his trial concluded, then Mr Doge would be brought back in to be formally sentenced.
The following morning though, the front page of the Daily Prophet did not have a story on Elphias Doge’s trial – instead the front page story declared boldly:
Muddled Morality and the Greater Good: Albus Dumbledore’s War
Directly underneath that title it proclaimed it was an article covering an exclusive interview between senior editor Alexandra Knox, Sirius Black and Emmeline Vance.
The timing could not have been more poignant, the interview launching two days before Dumbledore’s trial was set to begin. It sent a clear message; Albus Dumbledore was not the faultless leader of the light that the public made him out to be.
There was power in two former students, allies, and friends of the man coming forward to share their stories about his influence over them and their friends growing up at Hogwarts. The interview was raw, the grief of the two evident to all who read the piece.
The interview shed light on the names and lives of many young people who had lost their lives in the war, but who had not been notable enough to make headlines. It was made clear that these youths had put their faith in Dumbledore, and given their lives for him.
The interview, which stretched across no less than ten pages of the Daily Prophet, included photos. Youthful faces stared back at readers, barely out of childhood and already soldiers fighting in a war not of their making.
Sirius and Emmeline told the stories of their friends, who relied on those who had survived to keep their legacies alive.
Emmeline spoke of Frank Longbottom, who had always been generous, not just with his time, but also with his heart. She spoke of Alice Smith, who had gone on to marry her high school sweetheart, Frank, who had been like everyone’s big sister. Gentle Caradoc Dearborn, dead at twenty-one, who had wanted to become a Runes Master one day. She spoke of witty Benjy Fenwick, dead at twenty, who had wanted to be a teacher. And she spoke of Dorcas Meadowes, her best friend and the woman she had planned on spending the rest of her life with, whose life had been cut cruelly short at nineteen.
Sirius spoke about the parents of his godson - his best friend, James Potter, who had been like a brother to him. Lily Evans, the kindest woman he had ever known, who had helped him accept parts of himself he never thought he would. He spoke of fierce Marlene McKinnon, who had lost her entire family and then her own life at twenty. Sirius spoke of Mary Macdonald, who had died only weeks after finishing school. She had been a Muggleborn and an only child – Sirius shared how Lily had, had to try and explain to Mary’s Muggle parents why their seventeen year old child was never going to come home.
There was power in telling the stories of their loved ones. It was all underpinned by an understanding that none of those people would have been in that position had they not been brought into the Order of the Phoenix, by Albus Dumbledore.
Together, Emmeline and Sirius wove a story of influence and power of a grown man over a group of impressionable teenagers. They painted a stark picture of the moral grey area Dumbledore frequently operated in.
There was undeniable power too in that this message came from a dark wizard and a light witch, who had come forward together in opposition to Dumbledore and his pursuit of what they called ‘the greater good.’ This was not merely a dark wizard slinging mud against the unofficial leader of the light – but a unified front between the dark and light.
They steered clear of any mention of the current status of the Order of the Phoenix and the identities of any of its active members. Neither wanted to put the other members in any danger, or put targets on their backs. But the gauntlet had been thrown, the lines in the ground drawn clearly for all to see.
Arriving on the set of her promotional photograph shoot for an upcoming production, starlet Anna Vance had paused when a member of the media had called out asking what she thought of her daughter’s interview that morning.
Anna had proudly declared for the enraptured media that she supported her daughter and Sirius Black entirely. She also made it clear that she and her husband had never approved of Dumbledore recruiting their child for his cause, and made it clear she thought it was despicable that a grown man would allow seventeen year olds straight out of school to join his para-military group.
Anna Vance had influence in wizarding Britain – she was popular, attractive, and the beloved daughter of the current lord of the Ollivander family, one of the original light families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She spoke every word that day with sincerity, and a devious pleasure that her words would drive a wedge between many light supporters and Dumbledore.
Just in time for the man’s trial.
He had put her only child’s life in danger. She would make him pay for it.
Sirius decided it was best for Remus to visit Black Castle rather than he and Harry travel to Edinburgh, given the newly revived media interest in him after his interview. Although, it was less newly revived and more that the media interest had surged even further beyond what it already had been. At this rate, the press wouldn’t be leaving Sirius alone until he was old and grey, with the amount of interest he was garnering.
Remus didn’t have his fireplace in his Muggle apartment complex connected to the Floo network – permits were not granted where witches and wizards were living with Muggles, or where they were living in a Muggle apartment complex with less privacy.
Instead, Remus had been provided with the coordinates to Apparate near to the edge of the wards of Black Castle, and Sirius had made sure Torley was on alert to assist Remus with getting into the castle when he arrived.
Not wanting to overwhelm his old friend, but aware that was probably already a lost cause once he caught sight of the ancestral Black family home, Sirius had requested Torley bring Remus straight into his private sitting room that was in his suite of rooms.
He and Harry were already seated in the comfortable and relaxed space. Whereas Harry’s sitting room was decorated with bookshelves and a few pieces of art he had picked out, Sirius’ living room was a mix-match of clashing aesthetics.
He had some magical moving posters up of various members of the Holyhead Harpies, the Quidditch team he barracked for. Interspersed with those were Muggle posters depicting various musicians and movie characters. There was also a Muggle electric guitar and amp, which appeared to have some magical modifications to operate without an electrical outlet to plug into.
A few pieces of furniture appeared elegant, such as a regal wingback armchair by the window, whereas the couch Harry and Sirius were currently sitting on was worn with use and caused them both to sink in, like the cushions were hugging them.
Harry thought the room was perfect for Sirius – it captured something about the man that Harry didn’t exactly know how to put into words. Chaotic, but everything had its place.
His thoughts were interrupted by Torley’s arrival with a man Harry recognised from his parent’s photo albums. Remus Lupin looked older than his twenty-nine years, a weariness to his face that spoke of hardship and struggle.
But as he arrived in the room his amber eyes focused immediately on Harry, and a light came into them, like he had just shed years. Feeling a bit shy under the scrutiny, Harry subconsciously leaned towards his godfather, prompting Sirius to place a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“Harry, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Harry,” Sirius performed the introductions, grey eyes looking keenly between the two.
Torley took the opportunity to bow and discreetly disappear with a quiet pop.
Remus seemed to not know what to say, still standing in the middle of the living room with an awe-struck look on his face as he looked at Harry.
So Harry bravely spoke up, saying, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Lupin.”
Sirius snorted in amusement at Harry referring to Remus as ‘Mr Lupin’, and that seemed to be the jolt to reality Remus needed. “Just Remus is fine,” he murmured. Unable to help himself he murmured, “You look so much like your dad.”
“But the eyes are all Lily, right?” Sirius added quietly, hand still warm and grounding on Harry’s shoulder.
Remus nodded, words failing him again. He could feel a lump in his throat.
Sirius distracted Remus by getting him to sit down, offering him refreshments. Remus felt too nervous to eat or drink though in a literal castle. He had always known Sirius was wealthy, but he had never truly appreciated just how rich he was, because he had always downplayed it at school.
Plus, he had never had any friends over to his parent’s place, knowing they would give said friends a hard time, if not completely refuse them entrance into their house. Remus had only ever visited Sirius when he was living with the Potters in Godric’s Hollow.
“You went to school with my parents and Sirius, right?” Harry asked Remus gently once he was settled. “I’ve seen the photos.”
“Yes, we were very close,” Remus replied softly. Then registering what Harry said, Remus asked, “Photos?”
Sirius explained, “I found some old albums James and Lily put together. You feature in a few photos.”
Getting a distant look on his face, Remus said, “I remember Lily taking one…I think she dressed Harry in a wolf costume and made me pose with him.”
Sirius threw back his head with a laugh, confirming, “Oh yes, that one was definitely in there.”
Remus smiled faintly back, but his amber eyes slid straight back to Harry as the boy asked curiously, “Why the wolf costume?”
He felt like he was missing some kind of inside joke.
Sirius sobered up pretty fast, and that made Harry even more suspicious. He didn’t know Remus well enough to interpret his expression, but he looked hesitant.
Harry’s green eyes narrowed, and in that moment it was such a Lily expression that Remus looked lost all over again.
Sirius tried to downplay it, replying, “Just an old joke, I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Harry looked dissatisfied though, and Remus realised with a dawning sense of helplessness that he was willing to do anything for this kid and he’d been around him for less than five minutes. If you didn’t count the first few months of his life when Remus had known him as an infant.
“It’s okay, Sirius,” Remus found himself saying. Sirius looked up at him sharply, the shock on his face evident. “I want Harry to know.”
Harry looked at Remus with keen interest, as Sirius leaned back a little uncertainly, worry in his grey eyes. “You don’t have to do this now,” Sirius told him quietly.
Remus smiled back at his old friend, projecting his confidence. Then he turned to Harry, explaining to the boy gently, “I am a werewolf, Harry. Do you understand what that means?”
Both men were surprised when Harry actually nodded, green eyes wide. “I read about werewolves in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them – but I didn’t understand why they were included in a book about magical creatures, when they are just people who transform one night every month,” Harry explained.
Remus stared at Harry for a moment, realising in that moment that this was truly James and Lily’s son. He was only eight, but he had already shown more understanding towards werewolves than many in the wizarding world who had decades of life experience on him.
“It’s a complicated issue,” Remus said at last, getting over his shock. “People are terrified of werewolves, and particularly of getting infected with lycanthropy, or their loved ones being infected. Because of this fear, there are many regulations in place. Registered werewolves are dealt with by the Ministry through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Specifically, the Beast Division,” Remus explained bitterly.
“Remus is unregistered,” Sirius said quietly. Harry looked up at his godfather, sad understanding on his face. “I know you'll keep this information secret.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Harry promised, looking over at Remus seriously. Face still sad he added, “It must be hard.”
Remus smiled forlornly and confessed, “I was a very small boy when I received the bite – younger than you are now. My father, Lyall Lupin, was a very outspoken politician in the Wizengamot. He was actually once head of the Beast Division. A man, Fenrir Greyback, was on trial before the Wizengamot, accused of terrible crimes. It was my father who identified Greyback as a werewolf, recognising the signs with his experience in the field.”
Remus’ face darkened and he continued grimly, “Greyback did not take kindly to my father outing him to the Ministry. He escaped custody and came to my family home on the night of a full moon. He took his revenge upon my father by biting me in his werewolf form, infecting me with lycanthropy. My parents…they tried everything to help me, but there is no cure.”
Forcing himself to lighten up, Remus added, “However, a couple of years ago the Wolfsbane Potion was invented, which has changed my life for the better. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. Before the Wolfsbane Potion, I became a fully fledged monster once a month.”
“You didn’t become a monster,” Sirius disagreed firmly. “When you transformed in certain company, you didn’t hurt anyone.”
Harry looked intrigued, and Sirius decided he might as well tell Harry this story, if only to impress on his godson that Remus was not a monster.
“I found out about Remus being a werewolf in my second year at Hogwarts,” Sirius explained. “Bit hard to hide something like that in a dorm with four boys.”
“How did you hide it at school?” Harry asked.
Remus answered, “Albus Dumbledore made special accommodations to allow me to attend Hogwarts. He knew about my affliction, you see. Once a month on the full moon I transformed out of the school grounds in an abandoned shack on the outskirts of the nearest town to Hogwarts, Hogsmeade.”
Harry’s eyes were huge as he said, “You were just a kid though. He made you transform alone and unsupervised out in an abandoned shack, off school grounds?”
Sirius gazed at Harry proudly for making the observation. Remus seemed a bit taken aback, stammering, “I- well I could hardly stay in Gryffindor Tower to transform.”
Harry frowned, replying, “Why couldn’t you go home to your parents? I assume they had a way of handling your transformations in the years before you were at Hogwarts?”
Remus stared at Harry in surprise for making the point and admitted, “Yes, we had a basement – it was heavily warded so I couldn’t escape.”
“That sounds like a far better option than leaving you all alone off school grounds,” Harry pointed out. “What if someone got near you while you were transformed, away from any teachers?”
Remus and Sirius exchanged a subtle but meaningful look with each other – that is exactly what had happened. Sirius, sick of Snape sticking his nose into their business and trying to get them all expelled, had played an utterly stupid and potentially deadly prank on the boy by telling him about the secret passage under the Whomping Willow.
He had hoped catching a glimpse of a transformed Remus would give the boy the fright of his life, but he had miscalculated the timing and Snape arrived before Remus had transformed, and also before the others were in place to keep the werewolf in check.
Snape not only saw Remus transform, learning his secret, but had nearly been killed that night by Remus in his werewolf form. Luckily, James had arrived just in time to save Snape’s life, and prevent Sirius from being responsible for causing his friend to kill someone, due to his own maliciousness.
Sirius had vowed after that to never act so rashly again when it came to other people’s lives. The fact Remus hadn’t spoken to him for months after that had also impressed on Sirius the gravity of what had happened. He had backed off completely from Snape after that – they all had, fearful the boy would tell everyone about Remus. He hadn’t though, instead sitting secure in the knowledge that he had the perfect blackmail material against them all if they so much as considered bullying him again.
Sirius still couldn’t believe he had been such an idiot as a kid.
“It’s a good point,” Sirius said at last, realising both he and Remus had been silent for too long. “As I said, your dad and I worked out Remus was a werewolf in our second year. We became determined to find some way to help him through the transformations each month, so he wouldn’t be alone.”
Harry listened intently, the interest evident in his eyes. Sirius grinned and told Harry, “We started learning how to become Animagi.”
“Animagi?” Harry asked, trying to recall where he might have heard that term. His face tightened and he asked, “Peter Pettigrew was one, right? I read about it in the newspaper. He can turn into a rat.”
Sirius and Remus’ faces both fell at the mention of their one-time friend, and Sirius confirmed quietly, “Peter learned how to become an Animagus with me and James. A witch or wizard who is an Animagus has one animal form that they can transform into at will. It’s a skill anyone can learn, with enough patience and talent.”
Harry pushed aside his upset at the mention of the person who had betrayed his parents, asking, “Are many people Animagi?”
Sirius titled his head considering, before saying, “It’s hard to tell. As I said, you need to be patient. We didn’t become Animagi until our fifth year – we were trying for about three years. When I signed the Animagus Registry at the Ministry, I was only the eighteenth name on the list of active Animagi. But that doesn’t mean much – most keep it secret because it’s useful to stay out of the Ministry’s attention.”
Remus blinked in shock, asking, “Wait, you registered?”
Sirius sighed, replying, “I confessed to my grandfather it was how I was staying sane in Azkaban.” Sirius looked at Harry and explained, “My Animagus form is a dog. When you transform, you keep your human mind but your emotions and motivations become a lot simpler – like a real animal. I noticed the Dementors didn’t pay me as much attention when I was in that form, and they didn't affect me as much either.”
Sirius continued, “When grandfather found out I was an unregistered Animagus, he ordered me to sign the Registry as soon as I was out of Azkaban. It’s up to six months imprisonment for being caught as an unregistered Animagus. He didn’t want to risk me going straight back to Azkaban. Nobody asked any questions when I turned up to sign the Registry a few days after being released.”
“Can I see you transform?” Harry asked eagerly, eyes bright.
“Sure,” Sirius agreed easily, standing up off the couch.
From one moment to the next Harry’s godfather was standing there, and then he was bending forwards and in a flash he was a large, shaggy black dog. Harry laughed in disbelief and awe, fascinated by the display. He noticed Sirius hadn’t used his wand at all to transform.
Sirius in his dog form playfully nudged his wet nose into Harry’s hands, causing Harry to laugh again at the cold sensation. Harry glanced over at Remus, seeing the man had a complicated look on his face as he looked at Sirius. It was possibly the first time he was seeing Sirius in his Animagus form since their school days.
Suddenly Sirius was a man once more, not a single hair or item of clothing out of place.
“How do you transform with clothes?” Harry asked, wanting to ask a million questions.
Sirius scratched the back of his head, before replying, “It’s all about intent, I guess. I want to transform with my clothes, so I do.”
“You transformed without a wand, too,” Harry said keenly.
“As I said, it takes a lot of patience – and talent – to become an Animagus. It’s a different kind of magic – and it existed long before witches and wizards used wands. A branch of neutral ritual magic to be exact,” Sirius said slowly. “Your Animagus form is a reflection of who you are as a person. You don’t know what you will transform into, until the first time you do.”
Realising he hadn’t asked, Harry questioned, “What was my dad’s Animagus form?”
Sirius’ eyes softened and he replied, “A stag.”
Harry could almost picture in his mind his dad’s transformed state – a majestic creature with impressive antlers. He wondered what his own Animagus form would be if he tried to learn. He was also curious if his Metamorphmagus ability would make it easier for him to transform. All Metamorphmagi could change their human features, but it took a master of the ability to transform into animal shapes, due to the inherently unfamiliarity and complexity of such a process.
It would be much more convenient to learn how to be an Animagus, and have a single animal form he could transform into as simply as Sirius had just demonstrated. At the very least, learning to become an Animagus might be good practice for learning how to control animal forms with his Metamorphmagi ability.
Sirius asked Harry playfully, “You’re already planning on attempting to become an Animagus, aren’t you?”
Harry blushed at being caught out, before bravely saying, “I’m curious.”
Looking fond, Remus interjected, “We’d be able to give you your own nickname.”
Harry cocked his head while Sirius proclaimed, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. I was Padfoot.”
Harry considered it, before guessing, “Moony was Remus? And my dad was Prongs.”
“Spot on,” Sirius said with a grin. “We came up with the nicknames to talk in code amongst ourselves in case people overheard our plans.”
“We called ourselves the Marauders,” Remus confessed quietly, a far off look on his face.
“So, you learned how to transform in order to help Remus,” Harry questioned. “But how did that actually work?”
“Werewolves aren’t interested in animals,” Sirius explained. “We were able to keep Remus company in our Animagi forms on full moons, and he never hurt any of us. I think his wolf enjoyed the company, actually.”
Remus, looking a bit embarrassed, confessed, “I only remember the nights of the full moon, when I’m not on the Wolfsbane Potion. I think my wolf was happy for the company. Whenever I transform alone my wolf gets agitated, and with no outlet, I scratch and bite myself.”
Sirius looked upset, stating firmly, “Remus, I really think you should consider dropping the Wolfsbane Potion. I understand it keeps your wolf tame, but it can’t be good that you don’t even remember the nights you’re under its influence. You are always welcome to use the grounds of Black Castle to transform. I’ll keep you company, like old times.”
“If I learn to be an Animagus, I can keep you company too!” Harry declared eagerly.
Sirius laughed, telling Harry, “You need to wait for your magical core to finish developing before trying the Animagus ritual, kid.”
As Harry pouted in disappointment Remus sat there in silence, considering Sirius’ offer again. Seeing the grounds with his own two eyes impressed on Remus the vastness of the property – the wilderness of this region called to something primal inside of Remus. And honestly, the thought of forking out the rest of his savings for possibly improperly brewed Wolfsbane Potion from the black market, and suffering through yet another long, lonely full moon was the last thing Remus wanted to do.
Sirius caught his gaze, a hopeful glint in his grey eyes.
“Okay,” Remus said quietly, voice rasping a little. Harry perked up, looking at him keenly. Sirius waited patiently. “If you really think your grandfather would consent to me being here on a full moon, then I accept your offer.”
Remus rushed to add, “But if I’m worried you, your grandfather, or Harry might be at risk by me coming here, I’ll stay away.”
Sirius beamed, replying, “I’m relieved, Moony.”
Harry looked delighted at the use of the nickname, already excited for when he would get a nickname of his own, if he became an Animagus once his magical core settled.
With the werewolf secret out of the bag, and things now settled, Sirius declared, “I think we could all do with some fresh air. Remus, I know Quidditch bores you, but you have got to see Harry fly. The kid’s a natural,” Sirius boasted like a proud parent.
“Quidditch doesn’t bore me,” Remus mumbled, seeing Harry’s disappointed eyes look up at him.
“Whipped,” Sirius muffled the word behind a fake cough, as though he was not already wrapped around his godson’s finger.
While Sirius and Harry entertained their guest, Arcturus was in the vault underneath the castle, sorting through the final shipment of items from Grimmauld Place. He had left the paintings for the end, still undecided with what to do with many of the portraits of his ancestors. With Harry living in Black Castle, he did not want any ancestors with prejudiced ideas about Muggleborns and half bloods on the walls of Harry’s home.
He had already incinerated the portrait of Walburga Black, his daughter-in-law, after the screaming portrait had been carefully removed from the entrance of Grimmauld Place. It had been stuck to the wall with a Permanent Sticking Charm, but it was no match for house elf magic. Walburga’s portrait had not taken kindly to the house elves removing her, and had yelled vicious obscenities all the way from Grimmauld Place to Black Castle.
Arcturus had tried to speak calmly to his daughter-in-law’s portrait, but it was evident it was simply an unsalvageable piece. When a witch or wizard sat for a portrait, the painter captured their knowledge, memories, feelings and motivations at the time of the sitting. Walburga had sat for her portrait after her youngest son had died and her husband had succumbed to Bloodbane. It was imbued with her rage, grief and growing mental instability.
There were a few other portraits Arcturus was undecided about, older ancestors who had incredible value in the wealth of knowledge they could share about their time periods. But many were products of those times, and were invested with their beliefs in pureblood supremacy. Arcturus had decided whilst he would not incinerate their portraits as he had done to his daughter-in-law’s, he would keep them safely separate from Harry.
There was one portrait Arcturus still had to speak to – he had left this one for last.
He moved aside the black curtain the house elves had draped over each portrait, revealing a clever looking wizard, with black hair, dark eyes, a pointed beard and thin eyebrows. He wore dark green robes with silver trim, a nod to his association with Slytherin house.
Phineas Nigellus Black, Arcturus’ grandfather and a former headmaster of Hogwarts blinked as the glow from the light of the lanterns in the vault touched his painted eyes.
He looked straight at his grandson standing before him and drawled, “Finally. I thought you were never going to remove me from that house. We need to talk.”
Arcturus raised an eyebrow at his grandfather’s bluntness, but he had a respect for the man, having been the former lord of the House of Black, and his elder.
“You know I have a twin portrait in the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts,” Phineas said urgently. “I must warn you that Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on Grimmauld Place, and to tell him if Sirius and Harry Potter attended the property. He wants me to spy on the home for him.”
Arcturus’ face grew thunderous and he snapped, “The man has no boundaries.”
“I would never betray my family in such a way,” Phineas insisted, dark eyes furious.
“I know, grandfather,” Arcturus replied gently. Face clearing, he asked, “What did you tell him?”
“I promised him nothing,” Phineas replied smoothly. “It helps that Grimmauld Place has been empty for the past three years since Walburga died. There is nothing to spy on, even if I felt so inclined, which I certainly do not.”
A calculating look crossed Arcturus’ face and he asked his grandfather, “Would you consider giving Dumbledore a taste of his own medicine? Spying on him when he’s in his office and reporting back to me?”
Phineas smiled sharply and replied, “I thought you would never ask, grandson.”
Arcturus suggested, “I will set your portrait up in my study. My mother and father’s portraits are in there, so you will have company.”
Arcturus’ father, Sirius Phineas Black, had only been Lord Black for a couple of years after Phineas had died in 1925 before he had succumbed to Bloodbane, following his two younger sons to the grave. Arcturus had become lord at the age of twenty-six.
Arcturus knew his parents were far from perfect. They had sat for their portraits after Arcturus’ younger brothers had died though, and were at least aware enough that something had to change in the Black family for their bloodline to survive in the future.
“I am in dire need of good company,” Phineas said emphatically. “The headmaster’s office is full of old fools. And Grimmauld Place was a living nightmare in the last few years Walburga was alive. She was truly terrible company you know. Wandering, wailing and weeping about the place.”
“She was grieving, grandfather,” Arcturus replied diplomatically.
Phineas’ eyes narrowed and he snapped back, “She still had a living son. She had her father, a brother, her nieces. She had you too, her father-in-law. Yet she chose to cloister herself in that house and turn it into a living tomb. It was an inglorious end for someone of the noble House of Black.”
Arcturus couldn’t disagree with that.
Suddenly realising, Phineas demanded, “Sweet Morgana, you have incinerated her portrait, yes?” His dark eyes darted around the vault, as though fearing to see her portrait propped up on a nearby wall.
“Her portrait has been incinerated, yes,” Arcturus confirmed.
Phineas visibly relaxed, settled into the frame of his portrait and stating, “I would gladly accept being placed in your study. I look forward to speaking with the portraits of my son and daughter-in-law.”
“It is settled then,” Arcturus declared. As he summoned a house elf to move the portrait up to his study and hang it on a wall, he decided at some stage he would introduce Harry to not only Phineas’ portrait, but the portraits of his parents too.
He wondered how they would react to the news that the future lord of the House of Black was the direct descendant of the Dark Lady Morgana.