Salazar did not have much luggage to prepare or collect from the Dursleys' house. He always carried his few belongings in his trunk; at no time had he left anything on Privet Drive in case it should end up in the flames, which, knowing his aunt and uncle, would not surprise him at all. Not even before waking up would he have done so. So the transfer to Sirius's house was very quick. Just carrying the trunk had been enough for him.
Sirius's house was located in London, in a Muggle neighbourhood of elegant architectural style. The house was camouflaged between two others. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, was the ancestral home of the Blacks. A three-storey house, quite dark and full of rather frightening objects. Salazar settled for the moment in a guest room that Sirius had prepared for him; it was a temporary room until they could prepare the rest of the house.
"Harry, I authorise you to do magic within the walls of this house," Sirius announced.
"Thank you, Sirius."
"I'm sorry if the place is a bit scary; I haven't been able to fully fit it out yet."
"Don't worry, no problem. Need help conditioning it?" Salazar asked.
"I would appreciate it. My cousin Andromeda and my niece, whom you already know, will come to help. Is it true that you two are together?" Sirius asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"That's something I can't answer you. It would not be appropriate," Salazar replied, maintaining a neutral expression.
"All right, I won't press you."
"Can I invite Neville, Luna, Ron, and Hermione?" Salazar requested. He didn't like having to ask permission as if he were a child instead of doing as he pleased; but he understood that if he was now under the guardianship of another wizard, he had to keep up appearances and comply with the rules of the house, whatever they might be.
"You can invite whoever you like. Just let me know when you're going to do it. You will also have to wait until the house is well cleaned."
"I understand. If, as you said, your family was somewhat frightening, it is to be expected that there are undesirable and dangerous objects in the house. I can wait."
"Now, go and change because we are going shopping and dining out."
When he was left alone, Salazar turned to the place from which he had felt observed throughout the conversation. There was an elf who looked at them with an unfriendly face, as if he wanted to get them out of the place but was resigned to having them there. That must be the Black family's house-elf. Salazar gave him a serene look before returning to his business. He decided that as long as the elf did not meddle in his affairs and did not pose a problem, he would not do anything to him. Contrary to what he thought about the portrait of Sirius's mother, Salazar had set out to destroy it since he had begun to hear it shouting stupid things hours before. Sirius had silenced her by closing the curtain of the portrait with a spell, but Salazar was wondering if it would not be better to shout something in Parseltongue to make her shut her mouth. Although that would be showing too much for the moment.
Salazar examined the clothes he had and put on some of the ones he had bought during the summer. They were already a little short, but they still fit. The first thing he would do would be to burn his cousin's old clothes; they were not even good enough to be donated to charity. In the end, Salazar looked in the mirror; he was not very elegantly dressed, but he was presentable, at least.
"I'm ready," Salazar called out.
"So, on the move. We will pass by a Muggle shopping centre and then have a bite to eat. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we will go to Diagon Alley for the same thing."
Salazar felt that Sirius wanted to give him everything he had not received in twelve years. In a way, he was grateful to the man, even though Salazar could acquire things by himself. He had been surprised by what Sirius had told him on the way home. The money from the compensation Sirius had received had been given to Harry; which meant having their accounts healthy much sooner than expected with the investments they had made the previous summer. Thus, his vault was as if no one had laid hands on it that should never have, or rather, as if his fortune had not been squandered. Salazar had seen in that gesture that Sirius didn't want anything that reminded him of the hell he had been through. Something Salazar admired in him.
"Did you talk to your friend in the end?" Salazar asked.
"With Remus, yes. Everything is cleared up," Sirius replied.
"I'm glad. I liked him; it's a pity that he can't continue to be a teacher. I would pretend that I am weak in Defence Against the Dark Arts just to hire him as a reinforcement, but that one doesn't work."
"I've seen your grades, and no, it doesn't work," Sirius chuckled.
"And in the Muggle world, I'm sure he can find something there or even start his own company. It shouldn't be that hard," Salazar mused.
"I'll tell him, Harry; although I doubt that he will accept. You know the kind of problems he has," Sirius said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Yes, problems of pride. Problems of seeing a hand extended as a handout," Salazar stated plainly.
"That aside," Sirius muttered, amused. "He was always the voice of conscience in the group and always felt that he dragged the rest of us just because we were his friends; which made him sometimes feel depressed and withdraw from others. Especially girls. He always found an excuse to reject them with the argument that it was not good for anyone."
"He's self-conscious, of course," Salazar concluded.
The shopping trip went well. Harry was not very burdened by it. He only wanted to buy the essentials. He didn't need to flaunt a lot of clothes after all; having something suitable for different occasions was enough. After the shopping, they stayed for dinner at a restaurant around the Muggle shopping centre they were in and then went into one of the last sessions of the night for the film Jurassic Park. To Salazar, the idea of resurrecting powerful, aggressive creatures with an excessively primitive brain seemed a horror and a clear example of what could become the limit of human stupidity. The film was good, he didn't deny that, and he had even liked it. But Salazar couldn't help but analyse it from other perspectives. It had been a good afternoon in general, and he had convinced Sirius not to go to Madam Malkin's until the time for his return to Hogwarts approached.
Guard and Custody (Continued)
Helga had insisted on teaming up with Salazar in the clean-up work. The argument she had used for this had been very simple: both Sirius and Andromeda had to make up for what time had taken from them, and teaming up in a house they both knew well might be the best opportunity. Andromeda had tried to object, but Sirius had thrown a cloak at them; so in the end, Helga had been able to meet Salazar alone. What they both intended was to find and destroy the missing Horcrux without having to alert the other two. It wasn't that they didn't trust them. Helga trusted Andromeda fully and knew that Salazar was beginning to trust Sirius. They had simply agreed not to give that information to anyone, unless it was completely necessary. The fewer people involved in that, the fewer people who knew what they knew, the better for them and what they had to do.
"Here it is, I have it," Helga said in a whisper, cautiously holding a locket that was very familiar to Salazar.
"You bastard," Salazar muttered angrily in Parseltongue. "I'll keep it; then we'll destroy it."
"Yes, we'd better continue." Helga added. "At least we don't have to face a battalion of Doxies and other parasites like those in the room."
"No, we just have to stack the scary objects, destroy an anchor, and get rid of the Boggart in that cupboard," Salazar replied.
"How do you know it's a Boggart?" Helga asked, surprised.
"I used it as practice. I didn't feel like getting rid of him just now," Salazar admitted with a shrug.
"I'll go find Sirius," Helga said with a smile. "I'm sure he's in the mood for a little action."
"I'll go up to get the dagger. Second floor, left bedroom," Salazar instructed.
Helga saw Salazar go upstairs; she knew that he had given her the location of where to find him in that house. But for the moment, she dedicated herself to doing what she had planned: passing the baton of eliminating the Boggart to Sirius; and to endure Andromeda's gaze on the matter. Helga was surprised by the number of cursed objects that were in that house; it seemed that the more they were removed, the more emerged. It was as if the house had acquired a certain awareness and considered them invaders. That, or it was the elf's doing. Kreacher seemed to be looking for a way to cause them all the inconvenience possible. Helga never thought she'd find a house-elf who would make her angry, but as Salazar had warned her, it was best to ignore him. She left Andromeda and Sirius in the Boggart's room and went upstairs to the room where Salazar had told her.
"Have you covered the portrait?" Helga asked, noticing that there was a black cloth that completely concealed one of the portraits on the wall. The only one in that room, to tell the truth.
"It's the portrait of a certain member of the Black family who was the Headmaster of a lot of that, so I decided to cut him off from a lot of people," Salazar explained.
Helga nodded, looking at Salazar with some amusement. She knew that what Salazar said was true, that he had done it to disturb the portrait, but at the same time, she knew that there was another intention there. The portraits of the Headmasters had copies in different places and institutions, in addition to being directly connected to the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts; so he could use them for whatever he needed. Salazar simply didn't want to be spied on by Dumbledore, so he had taken steps visually. They could destroy the object silently, without exchanging words with each other, but if the object had the strength to resist, the portrait would know that something strange had happened even if it could not see it. They could talk without saying what they were talking about, but they would be in the same situation.
"I have something to show you, Harry," Helga said in a calm voice, gesturing toward the landing.
"Cool!" Salazar exclaimed.
They went out into the hallway, and Helga watched as Salazar closed the door behind him and silently placed privacy charms. The landing wasn't the private place they'd wanted to have, but it was clear that with that portrait there, they had less privacy. There was no way of knowing the degree of loyalty that Headmaster Black's portrayal had towards the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. It was better, then, not to take risks. Salazar gave Helga the dagger that months ago had impregnated Rhea's body with poison; then he held the locket. It was when they were about to decide which of the two would destroy it that the house-elf intervened.
"No, damn that, half-breed! Master Regulus's locket!" Kreacher shrieked.
Helga saw how the elf jumped on Salazar trying to take his locket and how Salazar dodged him and left the elf motionless. Helga saw Salazar put the locket on the ground while pointing his wand at the elf with a threatening expression.
"Tonks, destroy it," Salazar commanded.
Helga nodded, drawing her dagger and slamming it down onto the centre of the locket. The metal split, giving way and destroying the piece of soul that was within its contents. The Dark Lord's mass of black soul screamed in rage as it died of being lost. They had destroyed the last one marked by the map, and now they only had the original focus, for which they had to prepare; because it was not going to be easy to face it. Helga saw how Salazar freed the elf from the spell, who picked up the loose locket from the ground and began to cry. Helga didn't think he was sad or hurt; it seemed rather that he was happy? Hurried footsteps were heard down the stairs; it was evident that the two adults downstairs had been alerted by the noise.
"What...?" Sirius tried to ask with a scared face; Andromeda seemed to be too.
"It was nothing. A little misunderstanding with Kreacher," Salazar said quickly. "He thought we were going to throw away an old souvenir he keeps of your brother."
"Have you let him keep it?" Sirius asked, surprised.
"Yes, I don't see anything wrong with that. If he wants to keep it, let him keep it," Helga said. "After all, this is a house, and he's part of it; it's not that we're the Jedi Order and their orthodoxies against everything about attachment and stuff."
"Jedi Order?" Salazar asked, intrigued.
"I like science fiction, okay? I have several comics," Helga admitted with a slight blush.
"Master Harry can sleep in Master Regulus's room," Kreacher said, snapping a little out of his trance and looking respectfully at both Salazar and Helga. "Kreacher will gladly serve the young masters Harry and Tonks."
"Have you earned the elf's loyalty?" Andromeda asked in surprise.
"That's what they seem to have done," said an even more surprised Sirius Black.
Helga exchanged a fleeting glance with Salazar before they both shrugged. While Sirius and Andromeda were still surprised, Salazar gathered his things and followed Salazar to Regulus's famous room. Helga followed him into the room. It was a very green room, which showed that Regulus belonged to the Slytherin house.
"I think I'll respect the decoration. I like green; it's quite relaxing," Salazar said. "Kreacher, would you like to keep the photos of Regulus?"
"Yes, Master Harry, Kreacher would love to," the elf replied, his eyes wide with devotion.
"Well, then take as many as you want."
Sirius was sitting at the long kitchen table in the basement. He was constantly reading and rereading a letter he had just received, not quite knowing what to do about it. To say that the letter had surprised him was an understatement. He had never imagined that Draco Malfoy would write, much less ask him for help. Of all the people he had imagined would ever write to him, he never thought it would be Draco Malfoy. It was truly disconcerting. Sirius didn't know what to do about it, whether to respond or ignore it, whether to throw it into the fire or break it into pieces.
"Good morning, Sirius," Salazar greeted him, who was coming down to breakfast. "Is something wrong? You seem worried."
"It's nothing, I'm just thinking," Sirius replied.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Salazar offered.
"Harry... what do you know about Draco Malfoy?" Sirius asked.
"Slytherin, he's in my year. He is usually a little stupid at times. Last year, he repeated like a parrot the same imbecilities that his father told him. This year... it has been something different. He admitted that his father urged him to provoke a Hippogriff in order to challenge the Headmaster's hiring decisions. He didn't tell me directly, but I have ways of finding out about gossip," Salazar explained.
"Do you get along?" Sirius pressed.
"We've begun to iron out some rough edges. I don't like him, and I don't think he likes me at the moment. I think we are at a point of non-aggression," Salazar clarified.
"What you say is more or less what he says in his letter," Sirius said. "He exposes his situation, and the desire not to be manipulated within his father's power games. He wants to run away from home, and his mother isn't going to help him. He asks me for help."
"What are you going to do?" Salazar asked.
"That's what I have doubts about. I ran away from my family when I was fifteen and took refuge in your grandparents' house. James's parents treated me like a second son. What I don't know is how serious this chap can be," Sirius mused.
"Why don't you talk about it in person? Maybe that will help," Salazar suggested.
"Wanting to talk about it in person would be precisely as if I were telling him that I was going to help him," Sirius countered.
"Not necessarily. It would simply be to deal with the issue in person; not to say yes or no," Salazar explained.
Sirius passed the letter to Salazar, who studied it silently as he read it and finally returned it to him without saying anything. Sometimes, Sirius saw that his godson thought and acted as if he were older or more mature. In fact, Sirius himself had felt like a child at times when he was next to Harry. Sirius realised that Salazar was not going to tell him what to do; he had already given his opinion, and that was enough. Sirius had to decide for himself. A large part of him wanted to help his cousin's son, because Draco had asked him for help to get out of a pit of darkness, and if Sirius did not reach out to him, he would be condemning him to remain there. On the other hand, a small part of him told him that it was a ruse and that it could be another Pettigrew. Coupled with all this, Sirius feared that his past experience with the rat would influence him too much in making that decision. The Blacks were a proud family, but so were the Malfoys; they were almost on par with the Blacks. Sirius didn't think that a Malfoy, who was also a Black, would have written such a letter easily, so Draco had probably had to swallow a good part of his pride.
"If he is finally willing to abandon his family, he will have to come here," Sirius stated.
"The house is big enough, Sirius. If that's what you're worried about," Salazar assured him.
Sirius smiled at his godson. He could see that Salazar would become a great man, the kind of man capable of reaching out to help an enemy in distress rather than turning his back on him and rejoicing in his misfortune. If already at the age of thirteen, almost fourteen, Salazar showed himself to be so wise and mature, Sirius knew that he could expect a lot from him. Sirius got up with the letter in hand and read it again as he went to the office he had in the house, the office that had belonged to his father, the former Lord Black. He began writing a letter to young Draco Malfoy carefully and cautiously, being careful in his chosen words and inviting him to a meeting at a place they both considered neutral. Sirius imagined that Draco's parents would have forbidden him to have contact with him, but that was not going to stop Sirius. He couldn't go to Malfoy Manor, and for the time being, it was better that Draco didn't go to the Black house. A middle ground would make Draco feel more comfortable. Sirius reread his letter before sending it; at that moment, he regretted not having paid enough zeal to political issues.
Salazar fixed his gaze on the calendar he had in the room; July 31st had just begun. It was his birthday. But that did not mean that he was going to leave aside his homework, in which he was already beginning to show a much higher level than those of his first and second years. The celebration was important, but that didn't mean he was going to stop studying for a single day. The good thing was that he could talk to Godric and Rowena and mention the locket; they already had all the Horcruxes. The bad thing was not having been able to get the news to them earlier. It would have raised too many suspicions. Now that only the main part remained, they could be training and preparing for when it was revealed. There weren't many short-term plans they could make at the moment.
"Master Harry. You have mail. It arrived this morning," Kreacher announced, popping into the room.
"Thank you, Kreacher."
"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes."
"I'll be coming down soon, good job, Kreacher."
Salazar looked at the sender of the letter before opening it. It was a letter from Ron. He was surprised by that because Ron was coming to see him in the afternoon at his birthday celebration. Salazar had sent him the invitation a week ago; also to Hermione, Rowena, Godric, the twins, and Ginny. Out of curiosity, Salazar opened it. He unfolded the contents and read his friend's ungainly strokes.
Harry,
I haven't been able to write to you before; it wasn't until last night that Mum spoke out about going to your birthday. She has told us that we cannot go for the simple fact that you are now living in the house of an obscure family and 'Weasleys' don't step foot in those types of houses. As if the house were built by those who had lived in it and not by those who live there now. The truth is that there are times when I don't even understand her. She keeps thinking that it is not healthy for a man who has been twelve years among Dementors to take care of you, and that the choice of that 'cursed house' is a clear example of that. There has been no way to make her come to her senses, even with my father telling her I don't know what things she is like. I think what Mum wanted was for you to celebrate your birthday in the Burrow and stay with us for the rest of the time. Now that I've gotten good grades, she goes and says that with grades like that I could be someone in the Ministry. She is boring with her talks, and I have wanted to reply that if she has so much love for the Ministry, she should get to work on it herself. Of course, then I remembered the Quidditch World Cup and I didn't want to be punished. What you and Neville told me about breathing before you speak works.
Ginny convinced us to send you the gift in the evening. This time we have raised money, Fred, George, and I. I won't tell you what it is, but I hope you like it. Mum is angry because the twins haven't taken out all the O.W.L.s she wanted them to get. They have taken three each, and just those three are 'Outstanding'. They don't fool me. They are both talented in many things and know more than meets the eye. They could have gotten more O.W.L.s if they had wanted to. Fred got 'Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Potions. George got 'Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Herbology. For what they want to do, that complements each other, or at least that's what Ginny said. So Mum is angry with them because it takes at least five O.W.L.s and their respective N.E.W.T.s to start working in the Ministry. Seriously, why so much insistence with the Ministry? It seems that they pay her to place her children there. By the way, I came first in the chess contest.
This week, Bill and Charlie have arrived. You'll love meeting them; they're cool. Mum insists that they switch to a more secure job like in the Ministry. The one who has come to work in the Ministry has been Percy. Mum threw a house party because of that. She never did that for Bill or Charlie. I think I'm going to follow in Fred and George's footsteps and do whatever I want, as you told me once, it's my future.
I'm glad you have tickets for the World Cup, so we can get together to watch the game and that. I think my father was going to talk to Sirius about it.
Salazar closed Ron's letter and left it with his things on his study table. It was a pity that the Weasleys couldn't come to his birthday party. Salazar could see how Mrs. Weasley's prejudices came into play when she ruled that, being the old Black house, it was not a good home. He could also see, from what Ron expressed, that she somehow wanted to direct her children's lives. Salazar could see that she wanted the best for each of them, which was understandable; but sometimes the 'best' is not what is seen as best, but what each one works well at. Salazar didn't know Bill and Charlie, so he couldn't give an opinion. Fred and George had a good nose for business and loved jokes, so they would succeed in that way sooner than behind a desk. Ron wasn't someone who seemed to like being told what to do, so to weigh him down that way and not want him to breathe using other hobbies was to hold him back too much, which could be bad. And Ginny... Salazar had never asked her about her expectations for the future.
"The Weasleys won't be able to come," Salazar told Sirius before sitting down to breakfast.
"Let me guess. Molly Weasley won't let them come because she hasn't been able to 'cut the cake'," Sirius said, a wry smile playing on his lips.
"Something like that. Ron has sent me his congratulations, and they will send me a gift in the evening. I think he wants to do it in secret from his mother."
"Molly was never a bad person, but a little intense and given to prejudice; but never bad in herself," Sirius mused.
"I know."
When noon arrived, the doorbell began to ring. Luckily, although they had not managed to remove the portrait of Sirius's "charming" mother, a couple of threats in Parseltongue from Salazar and a silencing charm cast by Sirius were more than enough to stop it from being so annoying. That was a nice improvement. Salazar received them one by one and accompanied them to the kitchen of the house, which had changed a lot with the new decoration. Hermione went alone, as did Rowena. Godric came with his grandmother, who seemed to look at the place critically, as if she were reviewing the place as a sergeant would review the troops. Salazar understood that if she had shown up at the place, she would go and talk to Sirius about anything that adults discussed, surely Wizengamot matters.
"It's done," Salazar whispered to Godric and Rowena as soon as he could.
Helga was the last to arrive; apparently, she had had a last-minute job at the Ministry, so she could not have escaped before. As they caught up and tried to get Salazar to reveal what he had in store for the rest of the afternoon, Augusta Longbottom seemed to be discussing a few points with Sirius to finally give her approval. Salazar imagined that it had to do with the Quidditch World Cup and with the outing that everyone would have this afternoon after lunch, on the occasion of his birthday celebration.
"Tonks, I'm glad you were able to come," Sirius said. "You're the other responsible adult."
"Responsible adult? What have you planned, Sirius?" Helga asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"As soon as you eat, we'll go to the amusement park."
Salazar looked at his friends with a smile. He had planned that surprise, and it was a pity that the Weasley brothers had not been allowed to come, because he was sure that they would have enjoyed the amusement park. He'd never been to one; the Dursleys never let him go, so that had been Sirius's birthday present; a gift that he had wanted to share with the rest. Hermione didn't know if she had been to one or not, but at least she knew what it was. Godric and Rowena surely hadn't been, so for them, it would all be completely new and probably amazing.
"Is that why you told us to wear Muggle clothes?" Godric asked.
"That's right. You'll see, we're going to have a scary time on the rides. There are some where they throw water at you, others that are underground, and others that are reminiscent of Gringotts rails but in the air. I've seen it, and I've always wanted to ride."
"They say the Goblins built the tunnels after the pattern given to them by the god of riches," Rowena said, ever the scholar.
"Let's finish the meal and get ready," Hermione said, her excitement growing. "I only went once when I was little, and I wanted to go back. Although I don't go on what's very high. I don't like it."
"Don't worry, I'll stay with you," Godric said reassuringly. "That way you're not alone."
"Thank you, Neville."
Shortly afterwards, they were all ready at the door to leave for the amusement park. Sirius had asked the Ministry for a transfer to leave them in an area near the park where they would not attract attention. They were going to spend a great afternoon. Godric had decided not to separate from Hermione, so Salazar could deduce. Rowena seemed to be analysing the environment and, who knows what was going through her mind. As for Salazar and Helga, they stayed together all afternoon, even looking to sit together on the rides whenever they could.
The Dark Mark
Godric was anxious. If a year earlier he had told his grandmother that he wanted to go to the final of the World Cup, she would have told him that he did not deserve any award for not maintaining proper honour for the Longbottom house. Now he couldn't use that as an argument, not with the grades he had brought her at the end of the school year. They weren't great yet, but they were quite a bit better than what he'd been producing so far.
Godric was going to go to the World Cup; his grandmother had confirmed it to him after Salazar's birthday party. Apparently, Sirius Black had been the one who had extended that invitation and had even gotten the tickets for the main box. According to Salazar's last letter, the two of them would go with Sirius. They also had a ticket for Hermione, but she would come with the Weasleys. Helga was not going to be able to go, because she was in the middle of her first solo operation and she was not going to be able to get close to the World Cup; she was not going to be able to enjoy them. Rowena, on the other hand, would be with her father in the press box, as both had journalists' accreditation.
The day before the match, Godric went to the Black house early through the Floo Network, with a small backpack to spend the night at the World Cup camp. He had breakfast together with Salazar at the Blacks' house, being attended by an old house-elf who gave Sirius disapproving looks while looking at Salazar with infinite respect. The situation seemed funny to Godric.
"Are you ready, lads?" Sirius asked them after a while.
"Ready," Salazar said.
"Ready, Mr. Black," Godric replied.
"Good. Grab your things. We have a Portkey waiting for us at the Ministry. We'll go there on the Underground."
"I've never been on the Underground," Godric said, intrigued.
In his house, although there was no prejudice towards Muggle-borns, it was true that there was no contact with Muggle things, or even knowledge about them. So for Godric, at that time, taking the Underground was a crash course in how to get around the Muggle world. Godric walked alongside them to what looked like the entrance to a cave or underground passageway. He was silent while Sirius bought the tickets and Salazar explained to him in whispers the different fares that the Underground had, as well as the different lines. Everything seemed strange to Godric in many ways. After a few minutes in one of the Underground trains, they got off and went out into the street again in another part of the city. They walked to what looked like a red, glazed telephone booth with one of those Muggle devices inside which Muggles talked to each other.
"Do you know the entrance for visitors to the Ministry, Neville?" Sirius asked.
"No, Mr. Black. My grandmother has brought me a few times, and always by Floo."
"Well, because I didn't know, I didn't even know where the Ministry was," Salazar said.
"Go into the booth and let one of you pick up the receiver and dial the numbers six, two, four, four, two." Sirius instructed. "When you do, you must say our names and why we are here."
Godric was the first to enter, being the closest to the Muggle apparatus. He picked up the receiver and passed it to Salazar, then dialled the numbers that Sirius had told him, thinking that the three of them inside the cabin must look quite ridiculous there. Of course, Muggles looked at them with a mix of strangeness and curiosity.
"Welcome, visitor, to the Ministry of Magic. Please indicate your name and the reason for your visit," said a metallic voice.
"Neville Longbottom, Sirius Black, and Harry Potter," Salazar replied. "We've come to take a Portkey to go to the Quidditch World Cup."
"Please, visitor, put the identification tag in a visible place and show your wand at the security counter. Have a good visit!"
The machine spat out three tags, one for each. As the cabin descended metres and metres into the London underground, Godric put on the badge that identified him as Neville Longbottom. He saw Salazar and Sirius do the same.
"What a piece of security system," Salazar murmured. "You can tell that the voice is a synchronised recording. There's no one on the other side. You can say that you come to burn the Ministry, and it surely lets you pass anyway and wishes you a good visit."
"Well, we knew they weren't very smart," Godric said. That seemed like a very deficient system. There is no guarantee that you will be able to give your real name if there was no verification other than going through the security desk. In addition, in a moment of hustle and bustle, you could directly not go through the counter. Anyone could sneak into the Ministry!
"Next time, we'll say we're Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader," Salazar joked. "And for Sirius..."
"I'll ask to be Han Solo," Sirius said with a laugh.
"Do you know that I don't know what you're talking about?" Godric replied, a mix of amusement and irritation in his voice.
Once in the Atrium, they went to the main counter. That was already better known, although Godric had never gone through that protocol before. Behind the counter was a young man. His grandmother said that those who hire basic security were those who were rejected for the Auror academy and kept insisting on working for security. Godric personally found it boring to spend all day checking people's wands. They handed out their wands in turn, and then headed to the lifts to go down to the Magical Transport Department. On this occasion, the tables were turned, and it was Godric who explained to Salazar the basic functioning of the different departments of the Ministry through which they were passing. Or rather, what he had not already told him on previous occasions. The truth is, they hadn't had much time to think about the Ministry since they woke up; there were more pressing matters.
"They have a Portkey ready for us; it comes out in five minutes."
They soon found their assigned Portkey and stood around it, touching it with one hand. When the time for departure arrived, the Portkey began to vibrate; it was a safety mechanism that warned of the imminent departure. A mechanism that most of those created clandestinely or urgently did not have, and that could cause serious accidents. When it was fully activated, Godric felt a tug on his navel that propelled him into the air towards the destination. The three of them landed upright on what appeared to be a wasteland.
"Arrival from the British Ministry of Magic, at 8:55. Three people," announced an employee of the Ministry who seemed to be the one in charge of receiving the people attending the World Cup.
Godric observed the place where they were and could swear that Salazar was doing the same; meanwhile, Sirius was talking to the Ministry employee, who pointed him to the meadow where they had the reservation and gave him what appeared to be some plans. Godric knew that they had reserved their space with the Weasleys, who would come the next day with Hermione, since she was staying at Ron's house for the weekend. It wasn't a bad arrangement, plus he'd been able to see that Hermione and Ginny had become very close.
The first thing they did when they arrived at the meadow was to set up the tent and settle inside. While Sirius prepared the food, Godric and Salazar studied the plan of the campsite, comparing it with the one given to them by the head of the Ministry. They looked for where the journalists' area was located.
"Sirius, Neville and I are going out for a while to see if we can find Luna."
"If you find her, invite her to dinner," Sirius said. "And be careful."
"Yes, Mr. Black," Godric replied.
They took a long walk around the campsite, locating the drinking water source and also where the Irish and Bulgarian fans had been placed. The Irish had decked out their tents in bright green with shamrocks moving through the tent; it seemed that the world had turned green. The Bulgarians had an even stranger decoration; in every shop in their area, there was a photograph of a single individual: the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum. Godric got the impression that while the Irish fans cheered on the whole team, the Bulgarians only did it for the Seeker; that seemed counterproductive to him. In the end, they arrived at the area where the press were located.
"...and it's a pity that Mr. Crouch couldn't come, with what it has cost us to organise these World Cups," said a man whom Godric soon identified as Ludo Bagman, former Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, and Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. The one he couldn't identify was the man he was talking to. Godric had only seemed to perceive that he bore The Prophet's accreditation.
"They say the Bulgarians have brought the Sirens from the Odyssey as mascots," said a voice behind them. It was Rowena. "I'm glad to see you."
"We came to invite you to lunch," Salazar said. "We're by the woods."
"Your friends, Luna?" asked a blond man with a bizarre appearance. He wore yellow robes and had a triangle-shaped pendant with a circle inside and a wand splitting the circle.
"Yes, Dad. They are Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. I told you about them."
"Ah, the boys who have taken care of my little girl. A pleasure to meet you."
---
Salazar had thoroughly enjoyed the match. The Irish had proven themselves excellent, and the Bulgarians, hot-headed; for as soon as they began losing, their play turned foul. In spite of everything, it was an unforgettable match.
Later, back at the campsite, after dinner with the Weasleys and Hermione, they were discussing the plays and the match when a commotion began to erupt outside.
"Run, get into the woods, and stay together," Sirius urged, gesturing to Arthur Weasley, who nodded. "We'll assist the Ministry officials."
"Bill, Charlie, Percy; come with us. Fred, George, you're to stay with Ginny."
Salazar went out with Godric outside their tent and spotted the commotion for a few moments. Tents burned, people ran in all directions, and the Muggle family who owned the campsite were suspended in mid-air, being tortured. The image was disgusting. Salazar exchanged a glance with Godric. Godric knew well that Salazar wanted to go and help these people; indeed, Salazar wanted to help them himself, but he knew such an act would reveal his true nature. Besides, it was imperative to look after those heading into the forest. Nothing could guarantee it would be safer than simply creating a Portkey and fleeing to safety. Salazar turned and noticed the twins, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. The Weasleys wore expressions of pure rage, while Hermione's was one of pure disgust. Salazar wouldn't be surprised if they attempted to help those people, but he couldn't allow them to do so, nor could he leave them exposed.
"Guys! We'd better go as a group and not get separated," Salazar said, jolting them into action.
"Fred, George, go ahead with Ginny among you," Godric said. "Ron, Hermione, right behind. Leave the rear to Salazar."
"Godric," Hermione tried to object.
"Be careful, Godric," Salazar said with a nod. "Come on, we'd better move." If any of them were surprised by Salazar's sudden leadership, they didn't voice it or show it.
Fred, George, and Ginny immediately sprang into action. They had already made some headway when Ron and Hermione reacted, forcing them to quicken their pace to catch up as they reached the thicket. Salazar lit his wand, as did Ron and Hermione. People ran around them, but Salazar advised them against doing the same; running in such a situation wasn't advisable, it was better to remain alert. After a while in the woods, Ron stopped abruptly.
"You!" Ron exclaimed, and Salazar saw him turn to face someone Ron had apparently spotted behind a tree.
"Indeed. I'd say I'm flattered you recognise me after three years at Hogwarts, but I hardly think it's a grand achievement," replied the person in hiding. It was Draco Malfoy. "We actually met in the box, though you were rather preoccupied trying to leap towards the sails, weren't you?" Draco shrugged, as if the chaos around them didn't concern him in the slightest. And it probably didn't. "And to think I was about to congratulate you on finally maturing and achieving something for yourself, even if it's only in chess."
"You'll be..."
Ron was furious, even more so after what he'd witnessed; Hermione, meanwhile, regarded Draco suspiciously. Salazar pondered the situation, remaining alert in case anything approached them. Of course, he listened intently to their exchange.
"Surprised you're not closer to the action," Ron sneered. "I'm sure your father's one of those masked blokes."
"If I were, you're hardly the one I'd confide in, Weasley. And you're wasting your time. You wouldn't want them to see it, I imagine." Draco nodded at Hermione.
That comment only fuelled Ron's anger, and he pointed his wand at Draco, while Hermione frowned at Draco, as if he were a new riddle to solve. Salazar realised Hermione had noticed Draco was behaving correctly, despite his usual antagonism. An explosion sounded from the camp as Salazar saw Godric and Rowena hurrying up, their clothes somewhat threadbare and short. Danger was imminent, though Salazar was relieved his two friends were safe.
"Ron, that's enough," Salazar warned, lowering the younger Weasley's arm. "Draco was merely warning us that this is more than a bunch of drunken louts causing trouble," Salazar added. "He uttered no threat." Salazar turned to Draco. "Will you be safe here?"
"Don't worry, Potter, I know how to look after myself."
"All right," Salazar said. "Let's go, guys. Godric, Rowena, I'm glad you're alright."
They set off again. Salazar caught out of the corner of his eye the glances Ron and Hermione exchanged with Draco Malfoy. One was distrust, the other gratitude. Salazar understood Ron's distrust of Draco, and vice versa. On the one hand, as far as Salazar knew, generations of enmity existed between their families. Thus, tradition dictated quite opposing ways of thinking. Salazar scanned the forest for a safe place; he held little hope of seeing the twins again, as they had been separated for some time. All that remained was to find a secure location. They could conceal themselves among the trees, but they risked being inadvertently surrounded. In a clearing in the open country, they would have good visibility, but they could still be surprised if followed by someone hidden in the trees. It was a crucial decision, and both alternatives presented their own merits and drawbacks.
"Let's get into the clearing. We'll sit in the centre, in a circle with our backs pressed together," Salazar suggested. It seemed to him the best of their options.
The five sat down as Salazar instructed, wands ready and covering each other's backs. As they waited, they chatted about what was likely happening at the camp and whether anyone could get those Muggles down from the air. They also discussed what Salazar supposed those masked men represented: the remnants of Voldemort's army, those who had escaped prison. After a while, a skull appeared in the sky with a snake protruding from its mouth, glowing with an eerie green hue. It was a monstrosity, almost a macabre jest. As soon as people saw it, they began to scream and flee in terror. That couldn't bode well.
"We have to get out of here," Rowena said urgently and resolutely. "It's the Dark Mark."
"What?" Ron questioned.
"Too late," Salazar murmured, as he saw two dozen Ministry officials surround them and begin to hurl Stunners at them. "To the ground!" Salazar urged the rest of the party, for he didn't believe these wizards would give them a chance to speak. They seemed to operate on a 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy – or rather, not even that, considering what they'd done to Sirius. Lock up first, and only question when their corruption and incompetence are proven.
"Stop! Stop! It's my son and his friends," shouted a man whose voice Salazar recognised as Arthur Weasley's.
"Don't intervene," said a grim-faced wizard whom Salazar didn't recognise. "They are at the scene of the crime," he added, pointing to the Dark Mark.
"Of course, that's sufficient evidence, isn't it, Dawlish?" Sirius waited, looking furious. Salazar had told Sirius that this was the Auror who had arrested and cursed him several times during his capture. Something Sirius had never been able to prove. From Helga, Salazar had heard that this particular Auror was Minister Fudge's 'attack dog'. "Do you intend to accuse my godson of summoning that monstrosity? Tell me, are you going to accuse Salazar of conjuring the Dark Mark?"
"They are at the scene of the events and should be interrogated. We must bring them to the Ministry," Dawlish ruled.
"That won't be necessary," interjected Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had arrived moments earlier and had been listening to the discussion. Amelia Bones stood beside him, looking somewhat dismayed. "They're children. They lack the power or ability to conjure the Mark. Much less the knowledge. Need I remind you that only marked Death Eaters could conjure it?" Kingsley said in an icy voice. "I see no Death Eaters among these children, and their forearms are clean, if you care to observe." Salazar smiled to himself; he liked that Auror more and more.
"They were found here and were about to leave. That's suspicious," Dawlish insisted.
"Like the rest of those who were in the forest when this aberration appeared," said Amos Diggory, one of the wizards who had launched the Stunners. He looked a little embarrassed that he had attacked some children, and was actually giving them an apologetic look. "Boys, and young ladies. Did you witness anything?" he asked them in an informal tone.
"No, Mr Diggory," Salazar said. Salazar remembered Amos Diggory from last year; he was the Ministry official who had been sent to resolve the matter. It sounded to Salazar as though there was a Diggory studying at Hogwarts, in Helga's house. "We got lost in the woods fleeing the altercation, and when we found this clearing, we thought it was a safe place to wait for Sirius and Arthur Weasley. Shortly after we arrived, that thing appeared in the sky."
"That's not sufficient proof," continued Dawlish, though hardly anyone seemed to be paying him any attention anymore.
Salazar was distracted by an insect on Dawlish's shoulder. Although he couldn't tell what kind of insect it was, it seemed to radiate the same kind of magic that Peter Pettigrew had radiated in his rat form. It was an Animagus. That didn't worry Salazar as much as the fact that this Auror seemed determined to find a culprit by any means, refusing to listen to reason. How on earth did they accept someone like that into the Auror Academy? He was certainly someone who hadn't learned from the Ministry's past mistakes. Something had just happened that had frayed people's nerves and made them feel insecure, and it seemed the Ministry was trying to shut the whole thing down quickly, eager to return to the bubble of blissful ignorance in which wizarding society had lived for the last twelve, almost thirteen years.
"May we check your wands?" Kingsley asked them, whispering to Amelia Bones. "I think my colleague Dawlish requires rather more tangible proof than the simple logic of the situation to be convinced."
"No problem at all," Salazar said, walking until he was in front of the Auror. "Tell me what I should do."
"Nor do I," Godric said.
"Nor do I," Ron added.
"Nor us," added Rowena and Hermione simultaneously.
Salazar followed Kingsley's directions as Kingsley checked his wand with the incantation 'Prior Incantato'. Then Kingsley put it away while the rest of the group did the same. While that was going on, Salazar could see the bored faces of most of the people present, the 'I messed up' expressions of Dawlish, and the worried looks of Sirius, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley, and Amelia Bones.
"As we supposed, they are clean," said Amelia Bones. "You'd best return to the camp."
They walked in silence back to the camp. None of them seemed to want to mention the situation, and Salazar was content with that. It wasn't something they could discuss in a place that wasn't private; they would have to ensure their safety first, and the forest was hardly the place for such a conversation. Hermione and Ron's expressions presaged a long conversation the moment they had the chance. A conversation in which it would be best to expose the entire situation and its implications. What was clear was that this was either a foolish attempt to frighten, or a sign that true terror was about to return. Salazar would have to discuss that with his three friends as soon as he had the chance.
---
Albus Dumbledore was having a busy week. The Triwizard Tournament details still needed to be finalised, and he was due to meet with representatives from the other two schools, as well as Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman. As if that wasn't enough, he also had to find a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, in case the person he had in mind fell through. On top of all this, he'd just come from a meeting of the Wizengamot—an extraordinary session to discuss the events at the Quidditch World Cup.
The meeting had not gone well. Truth be told, the other members had been a bit obtuse and refused to increase general security measures. Personally, Dumbledore felt that the atmosphere was becoming more volatile and that Lord Voldemort was preparing for his return. There had been disappearances, though the Ministry only seemed aware of Bertha Jorkins's disappearance and didn't appear to be giving it much importance. But there had been others the wizards seemed to be unaware of or simply ignored. These were Muggle disappearances under strange circumstances and in places linked in some way to Voldemort's past.
"I need to start contacting the Order," Dumbledore muttered to himself. "I wish Sirius had listened to me and not removed Harry from the safety of the Dursleys'."
Dumbledore made his way through the Ministry towards the Department of Magical Games and Sports, where the meeting was to take place. He arrived a little early. In the meeting room, there were only Mr. Crouch and young Percy Weasley, who seemed enthusiastic about his job as an assistant to the Head of International Magical Co-operation. For a moment, Dumbledore wondered what Crouch thought about the events at the World Cup. He knew the man had always hated the Dark Arts, and Voldemort's mark had indirectly blown up his promising career at the Ministry. But Albus did not dare to enter Crouch's mind; while Bartemius Crouch was not a great Occlumens, he was quite competent and, above all, knew the law inside out.
The door opened, and the representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entered. Dumbledore tried to start conversations with both of them, but they didn't go very far. They didn't seem to have much desire to talk and appeared to want to get the meeting over with as soon as possible, much like Dumbledore himself. Fortunately, Ludo Bagman soon arrived, and with him, the meeting began. This was the last meeting they would have before the official start of the tournament. They had to deal with many issues, and the meeting lasted for hours. When it was over, Dumbledore was about to leave when young Weasley addressed him. Dumbledore had known from the moment he first saw Percy at Hogwarts that he had an aptitude and disposition for politics.
"Do you have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher yet, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Percy asked. "It's a pity that last year's couldn't continue."
"In fact, I'm on my way now to interview an old friend of mine," Dumbledore replied. "I'm sure his name rings a bell: Alastor Moody."
Given recent events, having a trusted former Auror teaching at the castle seemed like one of the best security measures he could have—better even than having two Aurors patrolling the castle. Dumbledore did not deny that he was still somewhat upset at having been excluded from the Sirius Black affair and the fact that the Ministry had meddled in the affairs of Hogwarts.