Twenty minutes and several drinks later, Sirius' hands were still clasped tightly around his glass. "Death, you are the Master of Death?!" he asked Harry for the third time now.
"Yes," Harry replied, slightly annoyed at that point, "And you asked that already."
Sirius shook his head. "I know, I know," he said while Harry sipped on his whiskey, "It's just a lot to take in." Sirius paused for a moment, "I always thought Death was something that was there, a part of the whole life cycle... and not a conscious being or whatever that was." Sirius took a sip before he looked back up. "And it just leaves you alone, if you want it to?" he questioned after a moment.
"Hm..." Harry paused in contemplation. "I think he would if I asked him to," he replied eventually and he chewed at his lip as he glanced at Death, "But I don't think that I..." Harry trailed off.
Can? Want?
Whatever the answer was, it came down to the same thing in the end.
Meanwhile, Death leaned even closer if that was possible and Harry's mouth twitched with amusement when he heard the slightest rumble coming from Death. But then it stopped abruptly as if he didn't want Harry to hear it.
"How have you been hiding that thing?" Sirius started and Harry sucked in air between his teeth.
"About that... You know the black snake, I brought with me?" As if on cue, Death materialized on his shoulder and slithered down his arm. Sirius immediately shifted back in his chair.
"So Death..." Sirius began before he stared at Harry. "The whole time?!"
"Yup," Harry openly admitted, not without some amusement in his voice.
"But," Sirius looked from Death to Harry, "It's so small…" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay. I'm not saying anything," Sirius said defensively when he saw Harry's expression. His eyes flicked back to the snake. Despite his wariness, he appeared relatively calm.
"See… he doesn't remember," Death hissed as if he'd read Harry's thoughts. A smirk tugged on his lips.
Meanwhile, Sirius had come to his own conclusions. He gestured between Death and Harry. "And ....this, is the real reason for why you know more than anyone expected you to know, isn't it?"
"Yeah, basically," Harry confirmed, all the while he was looking contemplatively at his godfather. "You know, Sirius," he voiced abruptly, "That you can't tell anyone about this."
At that, the man snorted. "It's not like someone would believe me anyway."
"No, I'm serious," Harry countered and leaned forward. "If you want the whole story, you'll have to swear an Unbreakable Vow."
Sirius set his glass onto the table. All amusement was wiped from his face as he looked at Harry, who kept silent. A minute ticked by.
"Okay," his godfather eventually said.
"You won't be able to reveal anything we spoke about," Harry elaborated, while he observed the Animagus closely, "Including our previous conversation. Anything relating to Death or the Hallows."
Sirius only hesitated the briefest of moments. "I'll do it... But who is going to be our witness?"
Harry stopped. He hadn't even thought about that. His eyes fell upon the black snake. "Can you do it?"
"Of course," Death hissed.
When Harry turned back to look at his godfather, a simple nod was enough to confirm the answer to his question. Sirius took a deep breath, eyes briefly flicking to the snake. But the man had never been one to back out of something. He stood up and extended his arm. Harry gripped his hand. Green eyes met grey ones.
"Well then, let's start," Sirius said, a daring grin on his lips. If it weren't for his whirling aura, Harry would've almost believed it to be genuine. Nonetheless, he began to speak the words.
"Sirius Black; do you swear to keep what I tell you now a secret?"
"I swear," Sirius said. His eyes widened when Death slithered down Harry's arm and curled around their joined hands, but he didn't pull back.
"Do you swear, to not tell a soul about what I am to reveal and what I have revealed about my identity as the Master of Death, other than gaining my permission first?"
"I swear." Death wound tighter around their joined hands and snaked even further around their wrists. The skin that was touched by the black scales burned coldly.
"Do you promise, to not use this knowledge in a way that goes against my wishes? "
Sirius hesitated. "I swear," he said eventually.
"Then Sirius Black, be bound," Harry finished.
"So mote it be," Sirius said solemnly. The inside of Harry's arm started to burn. Sirius hissed when Death turned into dark smoke.
Harry gasped, a pleasant feeling suddenly washing over him. Sirius on the other hand shivered violently and then clutched his arm. Death reappeared behind Harry, sitting on the back of his chair. Yet judging by the lack of the Animagus' reaction, he was once more only visible to Harry. The being's hoarse laughter echoed from the walls.
Harry stared at Sirius' arm. It couldn't be... but Harry could sense it. His own words echoed through his mind.
Then Sirius Black, be bound...
Death's chuckle grew silent but Harry could almost feel the sharp grin.
...be bound...
Not be bound by this oath. ....be bound.
Harry gripped Sirius' bony wrist and pulled it towards him rather quickly. He knew where to look.
"Hey, what-" Sirius started to protest, but he stopped when Harry stared at his arm.
"No..." Harry whispered without conscious thought. And yet, the irony of the situation was unmistakable. Slowly, a macabre kind of amusement took over and Harry couldn't help but snort at the image he was confronted with.
Because just below the spot where Lord Voldemort would brand a follower with the Dark Mark, something had appeared on Sirius' skin. A black triangle - not bigger than a bottle cap - enclosing a circle and a line.
The symbol of the Deadly Hallows.
"Well, this is going to be harder to hide from Dumbledore than I thought," Harry voiced out loud. With a sigh, he let go of Sirius' arm but to his surprise, the symbol slowly faded. The dark ink bled into the surrounding skin, leaving nothing behind but an unblemished surface.
Sirius who appeared just as surprised rubbed his arm and sat down again. Harry glanced at Death, the being having claimed the back of his own chair, but in the end, decided that he didn't care that the being was sitting there. He sunk back onto his chair, feeling Death's legs pressed against his back. It was strange, how he was both invisible and corporal at the same time. "Your mark holds the power of Death. Of me..." Death rasped, "You could easily force him to obey you..." The corners of Harry's mouth twitched amused.
"But where would be the fun in that?" he responded quietly.
"So what happened?" Sirius interrupted their quiet exchange. Harry snorted at the rather rough outline of the question.
"I already had the cloak," he eventually said. "The other two hallows just appeared."
"They just appeared? Don't you think, that that's a bit suspicious?" Sirius inquired.
"Yeah, but I trust him," Harry said and to his own surprise, he realized that he meant it.
"Who, Death?" Sirius laughed.
"Yeah, Death," Harry confirmed, petting the black snake which stared at Sirius.
"What-" Sirius swallowed once - "What do you know?"
Harry paused, contemplatively. "When I first united the Hallows, I got glimpses..." he eventually - unashamedly - lied while also pertaining some truth, "Like memories, and I- I saw you dying at the end of the following summer," Harry stated with faked hesitance. Inwardly he was grinning. At least at this point in time, he hadn't yet had any visions from Voldemort or else this wouldn't go this smoothly. Otherwise, he would have to convince Sirius, that he wasn't being influenced by a dark Lord of all things.
"The following summer…" Sirius murmured and looked up a pained expression on his face. He didn't have to ask.
"The Ministry... Voldemort lured me into a trap. I was stupid, I fell for it. The order came and saved our asses and you thought it was a good idea to follow them to the fight. To be fair, I think it was the most fun you had all this year. You had been locked up in this house for months at that point. Bellatrix hit you with a blasting hex and you fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries."
Better to leave out the part where he tried to hit her with a crucio for it, even if it didn't quite work the way he intended, back then. There was no knowing how Sirius would react to his godson turning to unforgivable curses... "In the end, even Voldemort showed up. He and Dumbledore duelled in the middle of the Atrium." Harry grinned. "At least that way, Fudge couldn't really deny that he was back much longer."
Sirius kept silent for some time.
They sipped on their drinks and Harry waited for him to comprehend the information.
The question Sirius eventually asked to break the silence was not the one Harry expected.
"And then, what happened to Remus?"
"He was devastated," Harry responded truthfully, once he'd overcame his initial surprise, "But I honestly didn't see much of him afterwards. Dumbledore shipped me off to the Dursley's again, and that was it," he said and shrugged. "That's all I remember."
"And what are you going to do now? This whole thing with being the Master of Death is a little strange," Sirius said. "You getting visions of the future-"
"A possible future," Harry corrected. "And only once. I'm not a seer, Sirius."
"But you know things about Voldemort, don't you?"
"Yes," Harry nodded. "Some."
"Anything that could help us to win?" Sirius began hopefully and that was the turning point. Harry sat up straighter in his chair. It was critical that he wouldn't drive away Sirius with what he was about to reveal or else Dumbledore would be breathing down his neck in no time. And he liked Sirius. It would be more fun to have him on his side.
"Yeah. I do," Harry replied to Sirius. "But after all this, I decided that I don't really care what Voldemort is doing, as long as he doesn't bother me." And wouldn't that be a miracle? Out loud Harry continued, "And I'm thinking that there might be another way."
"What would that be?" Sirius asked while eyeing him suspiciously.
"I'm not a fan of Voldemort's pureblood bigotry, but the wizarding world could use some changes..."
"Harry, how-" Sirius said shocked and almost jumped up, but when Death hissed threateningly he sat back down. "Harry, this is Voldemort we are talking about!" he repeated more pointedly.
"Why do you think so many people are following him?" Harry asked and Sirius stopped in his rant, confused by the sudden change of topic. "For real, Sirius."
"Bigotry, cowardice, fear..." Sirius immediately responded, a cold expression in his eyes.
"Maybe now, but it was more than that. When he first started to gather followers, do you think he was like that? He's lost his sanity. And by what he's done to himself, it's really no wonder."
"What are you talking about?" Sirius inquired, his grey eyes fixated on Harry.
"Your brother found it out on his own," Harry said with a smirk and leaned forward, curious as to Sirius' reaction.
They stared at each other in silence. Harry waited patiently, the lack of conversation grinding away Sirius' barriers.
Unprompted, Death began to comb through Harry's hair. His scalp tingled pleasantly and the bond connecting him and Death pulsing happily around them. For the first time, Harry fully let himself engulf by the sensation. It was oddly freeing. His eyes almost fluttered shut before he realized that his godfather was staring at him intensely.
"What do you know about my brother?" Sirius asked.
Harry cleared his throat. "Regulus... yeah." Awkwardly, he looked down at the golden liquid inside his glass, slightly embarrassed, that he had been so easily distracted. He sensed Deaths amusement more than he saw it.
Prick.
Yet the inward insult was thought more fondly than anything else.
When Harry raised his head, he was met with Sirius' steely eyes.
"Okay," Harry began. "I'll try to summarize it." Sirius nodded which Harry took as a sign to continue. "I think it started sometime after he joined the Death eaters. Regulus was the descendant of a highly respected pureblood family and loyal. Despite being so young, he was a trusted member in Voldemort's ranks." Harry paused and looked up at Sirius to confirm who listened intently. "There came a time when Voldemort needed a servant for an important task. And of course, he volunteered..."
"Regulus..." Sirius breathed.
"Yeah," Harry confirmed. But as it turned out, Voldemort didn't need a human servant. And that's a reason why Regulus was picked for the task. Because he had a house-elf at home... Regulus did what he was told. He ordered Kreacher to go with Voldemort should the dark Lord require his services and obey him. And after the finished task, he should return."
"And Kreacher knew all-," Sirius started enraged, but Harry cut him off before his anger would take him any further.
"Kreacher only did was he was told. He went and returned, just like his Master had ordered him. Perhaps Regulus was already doubting his choices. He was young, the Death eaters were different than he thought, Voldemort was cruel-" Sirius snorted. Harry smirked. "But perhaps only his discovery changed his mind. We will probably never know... You must know Voldemort always prided himself on the knowledge that he had gone further with magic than any wizard or witch ever did. And it's true. When Voldemort was young, he was brilliant. Highly intelligent and cunning. Fascinated by magic. He knew how to use his charm. Anyone who knew him thought that he would be the next minister of magic. He had the looks, was ambitious and maybe a bit of a sociopath-"
"A bit?" Sirius asked but he didn't seem to expect an answer.
"And he feared death more than anything else," Harry continued. "He is a master of the dark arts. There are ways to prevent that." Sirius' eyes darkened. "I think you already know, what I'm hinting at," Harry suggested subtly. "Come on. You may deny it, but you were raised in a dark family. If Regulus knew it then you do too."
"He made Horcrux..." his godfather whispered.
"Cheater..." Death rasped next to Harry's ear, commenting on the dark lord's deeds. Harry grinned at the honest betrayal that he felt rolling from Death at the act of splitting one's soul. He couldn't deny that the being grew on him.
Turning back to Sirius, Harry nodded. "That's exactly what he did. He found a way to do it. And just like you, Regulus knew or at least suspected something. But Voldemort would never outright tell anyone his secrets. He may be a bit crazy, but he isn't stupid."
"And my brother was killed for his knowledge," Sirius said grimly.
"Not quite," Harry objected. "Kreacher was in a miserable state when he returned. And when Regulus asked him what happened, Kreacher told him a story about a hidden cave, a lake full of bodies and a basin made of stone. It was filled with an impenetrable potion, to protect something that lies at the bottom of it. A magical barrier, which can only be lifted if you drink the potion. I even think Voldemort invented it himself. He ordered Kreacher to drink it, to be able to put something inside. A locket to be exact," Harry said and at his words, Death leaned forward, reached over Harry's shoulder and when he opened his closed fist over Harry's hand the Horcrux dropped into Harry's palm. To Sirius, it must've looked as if the locket simply appeared out of nowhere.
Harry stared intrigued at the green piece of jewellery and felt the piece of soul shine through the metal, more prominently than the last time. It pulsed wantonly, feeling another part so close to itself.
Sirius' eyes widened as he recognized it. "This was in the drawing room, wasn't it?"
Harry nodded. "I took it before someone could throw it away. Back then, Voldemort left Kreacher in the cave to die. There are enough inferi in the lake and the whole place is warded against apperating. But elven magic is different from ours. Regulus had ordered Kreacher to come back, so he did. It's a feat no wizard could've achieved. Once Kreacher had returned, your brother asked him to show him the cave.
Regulus himself drank the potion and put a copy of the locket in the place of the original. He didn't expect to survive. He ordered Kreacher to destroy the locket because he himself was no longer able to do it. The potion does things to you, you see. There was only one problem." Harry motioned at the Horcrux in his hand. "Kreacher doesn't know what this is. While powerful in their own right, elves can't destroy a Horcrux," Harry elaborated, while he was watching the emeralds on the locket shine in the dim light.
Sirius' eyes shimmered wetly, but he didn't cry. "He died a hero... he died, trying to defeat Voldemort. Reggie was always smart. He was eighteen when he died, you know?" Sirius laughed a short laugh. "Yeah... yeah. You already do, huh?" Sirius wiped with his hand over his face and sniffed. When he looked up again, his voice had lost the shaky undertone. "So Voldemort can't die, as long as this thing, this Horcrux is still there, right? We just have to destroy it and he is mortal again."
"Well, yeah. Not really," Harry replied, "This isn't his only Horcrux."
The statement seemed to hit Sirius like a sledgehammer. He was one of the few people who apparently knew what making a Horcrux really entailed. "He made more than one?! Is he insane?!"
At that Harry smirked. "I thought we'd established that already. But yes. He made more than one."
"How many?" Sirius asked, a fearful look on his face as if he didn't quite want to know the answer.
Harry leaned forward, and he had the faint impression that he was resembling Death at this moment, grinning his predatory grin. "Seven."
Sirius stared at Harry. He then sunk back into his chair, looking at his whisky before downing it and refilling his glass. He sipped on it for a while before he eventually regained his voice. "Seven," he muttered with a broken voice.
"It's kinda impressive, isn't it?" Harry said, his mood in stark contrast to Sirius'. But it was an impressive feat if you looked at it from an objective point of view, "That he managed to do it and still lives."
"Seven..." Sirius repeated and he carded a hand through his hair. "They could be anywhere…"
"Yeah," Harry agreed. Inwardly he was grinning.
Sirius looked at him. "Harry, I know that I took this oath and I won't tell anyone." A dry laugh spilt over his chapped lips. "Hell, I can't even... Harry, you have to listen to me. You have to tell Dumbledore," Sirius said intently and a spark of hope appeared in his eyes.
"Do I?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow, yet Sirius didn't seem to notice, too frantic in his plans.
"He could inform the order, gather people, we could finally do something!" Sirius ranted, full of zest for action.
"Yeah," Harry shifted in his chair, "I don't think so..."
"I understand if you don't want to do it. Why you don't want to tell him," Sirius said, "But I could tell him that I found old notes of Regulus. We don't have to mention that thing with ...the hallows."
"You only have to ask, and he whimpers on the ground again," Death commented from the sidelines, leaning forward and staring at Sirius like a hunter at his prey. The other man shivered despite not being able to see him.
"Oh, no. It's not that," Harry said to Sirius, amused by Death's suggestion yet overhearing his statement for now.
"But then why?" Sirius asked confused.
"There are a few reasons." Harry leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his drink. "First of all, Dumbledore already knows that Voldemort made a Horcrux, or at least suspects it."
"He knows about it?" Sirius said and his magic swirled wildly, "And he didn't tell us?"
"I think that he believes that this information would spread panic. Right now everyone still puts their hope in the illusion that Voldemort can easily be killed. Okay, maybe not easily... But at least everyone thinks that he won't come back if someone kills him. Most of the time, Dumbledore knows more than he lets on. No one beside him, you, me and Voldemort himself know about this."
Sirius still seemed enraged, but his attention seemed to be directed inward as he contemplated his own thoughts.
"Everything to this point and concerning this topic falls under your oath, Sirius," Harry reminded him.
Sirius nodded, but he didn't say anything. Harry sipped on his drink.
It was a few silent minutes, the air tense and eventually, Harry took to break the silence.
"This is a good whisky," he mentioned casually. Sirius hummed in agreement and lifted his glass to take a sip. "Actually, no," Harry said after two more sips, "That was a lie. Why do people buy this stuff? I can't taste the difference between this and a cheap one."
Sirius choked on his drink. He coughed, but then his coughing turned into laughter. Harry smirked. "I would have paid the person, that said this to my father," Sirius said.
"Um, actually there was another thing, I wanted to ask you. It's because of my trial," Harry said, "I need a way to defend myself and I could use your help."
"Sure," Sirius replied, the previous tension still noticeable but he was eager to jump onto another topic. "I'll help where I can." Then he looked at Harry with concern. "Are you alright? I mean it must've been much to get used to this summer, and now there's your trial..."
"Yeah, I'm okay. Being the Master of Death also comes with some advantages," Harry said and he smiled at Sirius.
Harry tried to summon the books, he got from the Black library, but apparently making something he didn't see appear in his hands wasn't something he was able to yet. In the end, Death took pity on him and the books ended up on the table between him and Sirius.
"I'm a joke in the ministry right now," Harry said. "The boy, who isn't right in his mind." He leaned forward and grinned. "But I think, I will use that trial to my advantage. It's more of a long-term investment. They will soon have to deal with more than a boy, who claims that Voldemort is back."
"You can be outright scary, you know that?" Sirius said, but he grinned. "What did you have in mind?"
"I intend to take advantage of some old laws no one bothered to change. And luckily, we have these books." Harry pushed them over to Sirius.
"The honourable Code of the Wizengamot. From 1597 till 1850," Sirius read when he inspected the title of one of the tomes.
"Yeah. Most of it isn't very interesting. These are the original laws and what changes have been made. But what's interesting is this part." Harry leaned over the table and flipped through the pages. "There..."
"A lord shall claim his seat, whenever he wants if he can prove that he shares blood or name of a family, that has the right to claim a seat," Sirius read out loud.
"Look at the names," Harry said. "These were the founders of the first Wizengamot."
Abbot
Avery
Black II
Bulstrode
Burke
Carrow
Crouch
Fawley
Gaunt
Greengrass
Lestrange II
Longbottom
MacMillan
Malfoy II
Nott
Parkinson
Peverell
Potter
Prewett
Rosier
Rowle
Selwyn
Shafiq
Weasley II
Yaxley
"All the old pureblood families..." Sirius said once he had glanced over the lines.
"Yeah. Basically, everyone who shares the name through marriage, or who's related to one of the families can claim a seat in the Wizengamot."
"But why are some of them scored out?" Sirius asked.
"It was an old custom, to gift your seat to another family to pay a life debt. There, the numbers behind some of the names are the ones who own these now. You can still claim the seat like you can claim the seat of a family you are related to. But the claim of a member of the family who owns it carries more weight. They can always demand, that you give it up. But that's all on the next pages," Harry said, and he pointed at a paragraph in the book. "Here it says, that a Lord can choose someone to speak in their name. One seat is equal to a vote and you as head of the Black family..." Harry leaned back in his chair, letting the silence speak for itself.
"You want me to choose you, to speak in my name," Sirius said and Harry nodded.
"Basically, yeah."
His godfather stayed silent and flipped through the pages. "But Harry... Not that I wouldn't do it, but I don't know if this can work the way you intend it to. These laws are old and I am still hunted by the ministry. Not even speaking of the fact, that I've never claimed a seat in the Wizengamot nor am I a Lord. I think the last Black to hold this title was my great-grandfather and he died in 1952."
"But you could reclaim this title," Harry suggested mischievously, "And I could be in possession of a letter, which states that - should you ever not be able to speak for yourself - I as your godson would be entitled to speak in your name. And that all-" Harry pulled out the ring Kreacher wanted to save from the drawing room and put it in front of Sirius - "is verified by the seal of the Blacks."
Sirius stared at Harry with wonder. "Sometimes, as much as I hate to state it, I think that you would've done well in Slytherin," he said.
"The hat thought so too," Harry replied grinning, "It's mostly Draco Malfoy's fault, that I convinced it to put me in Gryffindor." Sirius laughed and then smiled at Harry.
"Yeah, the hat does listen to you if you are determined enough..." Sirius said. And Harry gained the distinct impression, that maybe, he wasn't the only one, who'd asked the hat to be placed in Gryffindor.
Death leaned forward once more, a pale hand on Harry's shoulder."There are different kinds of ambition. For some it's the hunger for power, others want to be loved by everyone and some only want to prove, that they are better. Different," Death said and answered Harry's unspoken question as he watched Sirius taking a sip of his whisky. Harry smiled at Death as a silent thanks and then turned back to his godfather.
"But I should mention that there is another aspect, that might be dangerous and somewhat illegal," Harry said but it only drew a grin on Sirius' face. "You need to claim your title as a lord, for this plan to work. It can only be done in person," Harry elaborated, "And that means sneaking out of Grimmauld Place."
Sirius grin widened and there was a spark in his eyes, that had been missing since Harry had arrived here. "You already had me at 'dangerous'."
They chatted for some time more, until Sirius looked at a silver watch which he pulled out of his pocket and declared that they should now really head to bed if they wanted to survive the next day under Mrs Weasley's care. The only thing Harry regretted was that he wasn't able to see the face of his godfather when Death pulled him along into the shadows to reappear in his room.