Published at 27th of May 2024 12:13 am

Chapter 180: The Black Swan

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15 January 1994, Hogwarts

Harry returned to the Third-Year tent with a frown, sighing after finishing the first task. He won, of course, not that he ever doubted that he could. What he did doubt was the fact that Harry didn't want to reveal anything in his capabilities that might frighten the general public.

The idea was simple enough. He simply transfigured some ice into a white blanket and hid outside, while animating an illusion that was anchored to a pile of rocks through runes. It was a simple enough thing that any fourth-year student who had taken the runes elective would have been able to perform.

Harry was also able to immediately sense where the key was, using his Arcane Hearing. There was this extra noise near the ice statue that made him find it before the task even started. He used a discreet summoning charm that he designed to ignore the specific defences around the key and just transfigured a new key that he used as a decoy, held by his illusion. The rest was essentially just showmanship.

The gliding, the dodging, tricking the students with the illusion to take themselves out, until Diggory, probably the most competent student in school, was able to 'defeat' Harry and grab the key. In the end, he just waited until Diggory finished the task, had his guard lowered, and just took out the boy. And just like that, with minimal effort, he had won the task, without using a single offensive spell or advanced magic.

The glare that Dumbledore had during the entire ceremony made him have the urge to burst into giggles. Of course, Harry was able to restrain himself, and just go through the entire thing with a fake smile on his face. He really hated that stuff. Still, the Daily Prophet took a few photos and did a few interviews, where he explained what he had done. Harry had obviously made a mockery of Dumbledore's event, and the public loved it.

Still, there was one thing that made the entire thing taste bitter in his mouth. His victory was shallow and that was because of his conversation with Arcturus Black. He had steeled himself after the first portion of the task and told Arcturus the truth about the Hogsmeade attack. He tried not to look at the man as he retold the story and the fate of his grandson.

All the while, the Black Patriarch just stayed silent with a neutral expression on his face. Even with Harry's Arcane Hearing, the man did not have any change in emotion at all. It was just weird. Everyone's emotions shifted slightly, even if they were just lying around.

He didn't have the opportunity to see the man react to the story, since the announcers said that the finalists should make their way to their tents for the task to begin. Arcturus had calmly told him to just go and that they would continue their conversation later.

When did he mean by 'later', Harry had no idea. He just grumbled and changed back to his normal clothes. Those tourney clothes were really itchy, and the enchantment woven into them to glow in case there was any tampering in them or any magic effect or item that was not a wand when exposed to a certain ward, was very uncomfortable. It was like having a small buzzer in his clothes that kept making noise to his Arcane Hearing. He hated it with a passion.

He threw his little trophy without a care, it's not like it meant anything, anyway.

The last Potter just grabbed his hair in frustration. Should he have kept his mouth shut? Should he have just let Arcturus stay ignorant?

"What a fucking shitshow," he grumbled.

"It is, isn't it?" a familiar voice replied from behind him. It was Arcturus, his guardian….

Harry grimaced as he turned to meet the man's gaze, "Well, I don't have a better word for it…"

The older man chortled, "Yeah, you're right. Good job messing with Dumbledore, by the way. He looked like he sucked a real lemon instead of those sugar monstrosities he has in his office."

"Have you ever tried one out?"

"Yeah, one of the sweetest things I've ever tasted. There was barely any lemon in them. I tasted one from the muggle world, just out of curiosity, and they weren't as sweet."

Harry suppressed the urge to snicker before steeling himself, "So, you're here to finish our conversation?"

The Black Patriarch nodded grimly, "Yes. So, Sirius is really alive, huh?"

Harry's answer was only a grimace. He slowly reached into his pocket and took out a familiar knife. It was the exact same weapon that Sirius Black had used in an attempt to kill him during the Hogsmeade attack.

Arcturus obviously recognized the knife since his expression fell even further, "I know that knife. I gave it and its twin to Sirius and Regulus for their thirteenth birthday. It's a bit of a tradition to give a bladed weapon to a Black. Bellatrix used to love her own. She slept with it under her pillow and everything."

His reminiscing look turned into a sad frown, "I guess that my grandson is a serial killer now, huh? A monster that hunts wizards and witches in the comforts of their homes, to kill them where they are most vulnerable, a monster that can't even use magic anymore..."

"I'm sorry," he simply said.

"It's not your fault, lad. Your mother might have had something to do with it, but I can't really blame a baby for what happened that day in Godric's Hollow. Melania would probably have come back to life just to kick my sorry arse if I ever did that. My life always loved children. You should have seen how much she doted on Sirius when he was younger. Of course, that bitch Walburga didn't let her meet the boy too many times, something about not coddling him. We never should have agreed to her wishes. Seems foolish, now that I think about it."

The laughter that followed that admission was bitter.

"Oh, Melania would be so heartbroken. I'm glad that she's not here to see this. And look at that, my legacy. Of my three granddaughters, one was mad and died, one is a widow that's a pale imitation of the brilliant young woman she used to be, and one is married to a muggleborn and wants nothing to do with her family, something that she passed on to her daughter. Of my two grandsons, one died in the service of a madman, and the other is an insane serial killer who's more monster than man and had lost his ability to use magic in any way. You'd think I would be relieved to see that one of my descendants would be still alive… Alas, the world is cruel, isn't it?"

"The world rarely cares for our wishes, Arcturus," Harry admitted, "But that doesn't mean that we should give up. It would be too easy to do so, instead of fighting to gain our own small slice of the world."

"I guess you're right lad," the older man admitted, "I have a question, though. Why did you wait so long to tell me.? Samhain was almost three months ago."

Harry looked down, "I was scared, I guess. It's hard to say. I didn't know how you were going to react. You've always sounded so proud of Sirius, for standing up to his mother, for fighting what he truly believed in, instead of being swept up by the bloodlust like Bellatrix. I didn't want to hurt you, but I knew that you deserved to know. I knew that the moment we'd be anywhere just the two of us, I'd cave and just tell you, so I avoided you. And now that your favoured grandson is trying to kill your own ward…"

"You thought that I would pick him over you?" Arcturus continued with an incredulous tone.

"It wasn't logical, alright! I had just heard that my own mother killed my father in the back, just to power some kind of ritual. I heard that she was some manipulative bitch whose demise had probably made the world a better place. You're the first adult that's ever given a shit about me, Arcturus. The risk wasn't worth it, even if I knew deep down that you would never pick that monster, that's more like an imitation of your grandson anyway."

Harry was telling the truth in this. In both his lifetimes, not a single adult cared about his wellbeing. If they did, they would have noticed his utter lack of social skills, and how that would have impacted him. He had practically raised himself twice, and while he was better off in this life, he was still a far cry from a mentally healthy boy.

Arcturus shook his head, "When I made you my ward, I made a promise on my dead sister's grave, that I would take care of you. I will not abandon you for something like this. You are my charge, my ward, and I will never hurt you. I might have contacted you because of your ability, because of your intelligence, and potential for a child of yours to become the next Black Patriarch or Matriarch, but I have grown to care for you. You should have trusted me, Harry."

Harry just looked down, and the man continued, "As smart as you are, I guess I forgot that you're still a child at heart and I should have noticed your insecurities. This a failing on both my side and yours. I thought that you learned during your Wizengamot hearing that you should trust me, kid."

The last Potter looked down, "I'm sorry…"

"Sorry implies that you're going to learn this lesson. You might be young, but you still betrayed the trust I gave you because of your maturity. What if Sirius came after me, huh? What if you died and the Smiling Killer's identity disappeared with you? What if I put wards that would protect against people of Black blood, or used curses that can't target my bloodline? Your intentions were pure, in the attempt to spare me some pain, but haven't I proven to you again and again that you could trust me?"

Harry nodded, "Of course…"

The Black Patriarch interrupted him, "Let me finish. I went above and beyond for you, kid. I was there when you used me to stop Dumbledore from getting control over you outside the castle. I was there when Dumbledore tried to paint you as some kind of dark lord, ready to help you. I was there when I made sure that your Firebolt business wasn't sunk into the ground by the Nimbus Corporation, not that you know about it. I was there when I greased a few palms to make sure that the new laws targeting your company aren't created, even using some of my blackmail material to make sure you succeed and rebuild the Potter treasury.

"Hell, I even helped you get some Goblin Silver for that Colt of yours, and I haven't asked you about how you knew about Regulus' locket. I did all of this, not because I wanted to curry some favour from you, or even use you in any way, but because you're my sister's blood, and I can see that you could change the world. Believe it or not, I am your biggest supporter, your greatest ally, and all I'm asking is for you to trust me enough, to respect me enough, to return some of the trust and respect that I have for you. Is that too much to ask?"

Harry stood there, frozen by the man's rant. Did he really dismiss Arcturus this much? He hadn't known that the Black Patriarch was helping him from the shadows. The words were familiar. Hadn't he uttered those same words to Tracy and Blaise when they complained right after the Hogsmeade Attack?

Were his actions similar to theirs? Did they look petty as Tracy and Blaise's teenage rebellion?

He really should have told Arcturus from the start, "I'm genuinely sorry, Arcturus. I'll do my best to include you in anything serious from now on."

"Good," the man simply answered, "I will hold you to that. Now, with that out of the way, how have you been? You know, besides Sirius trying to kill you and everything, we didn't have time to talk since the summer."

Harry's posture gradually relaxed as he spent more time with his guardian. By the end of it, they were both laughing merrily, with Sirius Black's survival, not quite forgotten, but in the background.

AN: I wanted to know your thoughts on how I handled Arcturus' response to Sirius being alive. I wanted him to sound mature since he's a war hero who already experienced heartbreak after what happened to his family. Let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions.

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