***
Walburga left the office of Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, slamming the door loudly behind her. The despicable bureaucrat wouldn't even listen to her request to send Sirius Black's case for further investigation.
"The court has decided, the court has decided," she cursed under her breath. "Twelve Muggles, and it's not even certain that they died at the hands of my son. His friend, that Gryffindor who looked more like a fat rat than a human being, has disappeared without a trace, and most importantly, there's the betrayal of the Potters, Dumbledore's favourites. May Merlin never grant such love, they didn't even live to see thirty. First, they joined their "Order of the Phoenix" almost at school, then they immediately went to war. And stupid James Potter married a "mudblood," it's a disgrace, Valburga almost spat at the secretary's feet in annoyance. "Poor parents."
"Well, at least I managed to arrange a visit with my son," she thought. "I'll tell him to ask the judges himself to check with Veritaserum, because I'm absolutely certain he didn't betray the Potters. My simple-minded son is incapable of betrayal in principle; it's not for nothing that the Sorting Hat sent him to Gryffindor," Lady Black thought about her son, paying no attention to anyone else, and left the Ministry of Magic.
"What a haughty old bitch!" thought Scrimgeour angrily. "She's sucked all the brains out of me — mother of devourers, mother of her. One son is gone, the other is serving a life sentence, there's no one left in the family, and she's still demanding something. As if the Blacks could still influence politics. She should have died quietly in her manor. Damned Black family!" Rufus smiled to himself at the tautology that came to mind.
The next day, Walburga was already standing on the cold, windy shore. The wind ruffled her thick black hair and tried to tug at the hem of her cloak, but the woman stood motionless, staring at the island barely visible in the fog. Even here, the terrible aura of this place reached her, and a feeling of hopelessness and despair hung in the air.
Shuddering, Valburga took a velvet box out of her handbag and pulled out a large gold ring with a black, matte stone, in the depths of which a snarling dog's mouth could be seen. As soon as the artefact was on her middle finger, the effects of Azkaban's magic instantly disappeared.
The ring, long ago given to one of the Blacks by Ecrissidis, the former owner of the fortress, worked flawlessly. With regal grace, Valburga stepped onto the deck of a small boat shuttling between the island and the mainland.
The short journey quickly ended at the Azkaban pier. Dementors circled leisurely above the prison. The pressure of their heavy aura affected even the guards, who were protected by amulets, but the old aristocrat seemed completely oblivious to this influence, as if she were made of steel.
With a haughty nod to the guards and showing the prison warden her permission to visit the dangerous criminal Sirius Black, she moved majestically in the indicated direction. Walking down the prison corridor accompanied by a guard, she finally reached the cells where the Devourers were being held.
From the depths of the dungeons, emaciated-looking people greeted her hollowly, and with pain in her heart, she noticed her niece among the prisoners. The feverish gleam in the eyes and the general terrible appearance of Bellatrix, her husband and brother-in-law spoke of their problems, both physical and mental. They followed her down the corridor with wild looks, but said nothing.
Finally, a guard opened the gate to her son's cell, and Valburga cautiously entered.
"Leave us," she said firmly to the guard, who was simply swept out of the cell by the unquestionable power of her voice, yet he remained standing further down the corridor, a few metres from the cell door, in case Black tried to escape.
Sirius stirred in amazement at the familiar voice and stared at the woman standing in the doorway.
"Mum?" he croaked in surprise, waking up. "What are you doing here? Did the Ministry finally decide that it's time to get rid of all the Blacks and put us in Azkaban, even you? Or did you get Minister Bagnole's back because of her vulgar, unaristocratic hairstyle?"
"Hmm," Valburga smiled and sat down on the edge of the cot. "I got the Ministry to grant me a one-time visit to Azkaban so I could see you, son.
"No wonder I don't feel the Dementors' influence," Sirius said in surprise. "They must have been driven away by your visit.
Valburga stroked the ring on her finger and chuckled smugly:
"No, son, the Dementors are still circling the castle. I suggest you ask the Ministry for a new investigation. Even if it means drinking Veritaserum to prove your innocence," Walburga said painfully.
"But I am to blame for their deaths," Sirius exclaimed passionately. "If only I could turn back time, if only I could..."
"The dead cannot be helped, son, but the living can still be saved," Walburga looked imploringly at Sirius. "Save yourself, son, demand a new trial from Wizengamot. Five more years and you will become sterile here, and in another three you will begin to go mad."Ha ha," Sirius laughed hoarsely. "You're still worried about the future of our cursed black family. I've always wondered how I could have been born into such a crazy family of dark wizards. A bright, decent wizard among crazy blood purists," Black sneered. "Purity of blood forever! Right, Mum?"
"You're an idiot, Sirius," Valburga hissed indignantly. "You're just as much a dark wizard as the rest of us, only you had your head turned by that Mordred 'Dumbledore' when you were a child. How can you say such things about your own family?"
"Don't bring Dumbledore into this," Sirius snapped. "If it weren't for your Lord, there would have been no war at all.
"Merlin and Morgana!" Valburga clapped her hands in exasperation. "How can you not understand? Voldemort was just a figurehead, the first in line, but in reality, the entire pure-blood society wanted to limit the power of those filthy Muggle-lovers. They will lead our world to ruin," she continued indignantly.
"These are all silly tales of pure-blood fanatics, mother, I don't even want to listen to your delusional sermons," Sirius said, turning away from her in disgust.
"Son, come to your senses," the gloomy Walburga couldn't help saying. "Your beloved Dumbledore put you in prison without a trial. He wouldn't listen to anyone, only your nonsense: 'I'm guilty, I'm guilty.
"There was no investigation, you were just thrown into Azkaban with his approval," Valburga hissed like an angry snake. "But now I'm offering you a way to save yourself! As soon as you express your desire to undergo the 'truth potion' test, I will ask Lucius Malfoy, and he will arrange an extraordinary meeting in Wizengamot to review your case. You will be acquitted, and in a month you will be free. Six months, a year in a good Swiss clinic, and your health will be no worse than before.
Walburga looked hopefully at Sirius, but noticing her son's unyielding, cracked lips, she just sighed. A fool was beyond redemption.
"No, mother," Sirius even stood up. "I am to blame for the death of my friends, and I deserve punishment. If it weren't for my stupidity, if I had insisted on becoming the Potter's Fidelius, James would be alive, and now they're all dead!" he shouted hysterically.
"It's useless, everything is useless," Walburga thought to herself with a touch of pride. "The boy won't change his mind, he's as stubborn as the rest of us, a true Black."
"Then, son, all I can do is say goodbye," Walburga took a packet of sweet chocolate from her handbag. "Take this, it helps a little against the Dementors. And also, I know you learned Animagi at school. The thing is, those creatures can't affect animals. If you transform into an Animagus form when the soul-suckers are nearby, you'll be able to ignore their pressure. That will allow you to hold out longer. But living in Animagus form all the time is absolutely unacceptable; your mind will gradually take on animal traits. You'll end up hunting rats like some kind of cat.
Sirius's eyes flashed menacingly for some reason.
"All right, mother, thank you for visiting. It was good to see you," he continued from behind the bars when the guard closed the door behind his mother.
Walburga walked silently through the prison corridors, but angry tears choked her from within. Seeing her eldest and beloved son, her own flesh and blood, killing himself in Azkaban was simply beyond her strength. Her mother's heart bled as she relived their conversation over and over again. Why couldn't he understand things that were so ordinary for every pure-blood wizard?
There is family, there is kin, and somewhere out there, everyone else. Friends, acquaintances, colleagues, none of them will stand by you to the end, and if danger arises, they will easily step aside, forget or even betray you. Where are all Sirius's friends, those he was friends with at school, studied and worked with in the Auror Corps, fought with in this Mordred Order of the Phoenix?
No one! No one ever tried to visit him in prison, even just to look him in the eye and ask, "Why did you betray your best friends, Sirius?"
Only family, only kin, will stand behind you to the end and support you so that nothing happens. Even the most terrible villains have a mother who sincerely loves her child. Even if he becomes a monster, she will still love him.
If it weren't for the support of Narcissa's family and the hope of restoring the dying Black family with the help of Cassius, Walburga would have long since sacrificed her life on the altar, even if it meant ten years in Azkaban for her son. And then she would spend eternity looking at the magical portrait on the door, hoping that one day her beloved son would return. She had long since ordered the painting and hung it in the hallway with "permanent glue."
All that remained was to perform the "sacrifice of blood and magic" ritual on the altar. But Narcissa, that persistent girl, managed to visit Grimmo 12 and ruined all the desperate woman's plans. And now it would be foolish to die. She had to support Cassius, make him head of the family, and give him the opportunity to take his rightful place in the Wizengamot. And she had to bind her new master with blood, the mansion on Grimm Street. The house that had served its masters for centuries had become more of a semi-sentient artefact than just a building.
"Yes, the Blacks will live," Valburga thought, clenching her teeth tightly. "For the future of our family and the great Black clan."
***
In the White Wyvern, a shabby pub in the slums of Knockturn Alley, evenings rarely passed without a brawl or an Auror raid. Lucius stepped over the threshold of the tavern with disdain and entered. He had prudently donned a hood and a mask that completely concealed his features.
Malfoy categorically did not want to be recognised in this place, lest rumours start flying. A distinguished lord in a tavern of this ilk, surrounded by bandit faces. However, Fenrir Grey had requested a meeting and had arranged it here. Werewolves kept their word, and if Lucius and his vassals had managed to come to an agreement with Grey, he would never renege on it without good reason. Therefore, Malfoy did not fear an attack and did not even take anyone with him as backup.
Spotting Grey, who was sitting in the corner at a small table, Malfoy took two beers from the bar and slowly made his way towards the werewolf.
"Greetings, my lord," Fenrir grinned, baring his teeth. "I thought you weren't coming.
"Don't lump me in with your friends," Lucius replied. "A true gentleman always keeps his word.
"Unless you gave it to some dark creature like me?" Grinched Grey.
"All right, enough joking," Malfoy ended the exchange of pleasantries. "What's going on that you decided to call me here?"
Fenrir also became serious and said with a grin:
"Yesterday there was a raid in Gloucestershire near the Forest of Dune, and the Aurors captured several werewolves, including my niece Lita. I would like to ask the wizards for help in freeing them," he said, gritting his teeth. "We have information that all those detained will simply be killed for ingredients on the next full moon.
"Right," Malfoy thought for a moment, "are they being held in London or at the local Auror office in Gloucester?
"In Gloucester? Why drag simple werewolves to London?" Fenrir was surprised. "It would be easier to sell them to ingredient dealers there, and the authorities wouldn't find out."
"I see," said Lucius. "Then we have two options. The first is that you collect the money and give it to them, buying your relatives at the price of ingredients, and the second is that, with our support, you attack the branch in Gloucester at night and free all the prisoners.
"It won't be possible to negotiate a ransom for the werewolves," Grey shook his head regretfully. "We're dark creatures, how can we let them out of prison? What if we start biting people and turning them into our own kind? Even the most corrupt Aurors won't agree to that. I'll just alarm them with the ransom offer.
"Then the only option is to attack, and we have to do it before the full moon," Lucius sighed thoughtfully. "During the full moon, they will obviously bring in more guards.
"We are ready," said Grey. "Can you help us?"
"If it concerns your niece, Fenrir, I myself will fight alongside you with my vassals, you have my word as a lord," Malfoy said solemnly.
"Then we'll meet tonight at the Auror building in Gloucester," Grey nodded in agreement. "You put up an 'anti-apparition' barrier and use the 'Bombards' to break through the entrance. Then my men and I will free the prisoners and lead them out of the building. Remove the dome, and we'll use the portals to transport everyone to the werewolf settlements in the forest. That's it. In case of force majeure, we'll act according to the situation.
"Agreed, Fenrir, I'll meet you and your vassals at three in the morning in Gloucester, outside the Auror building, where we'll go over your plan one more time. Let's get this done quickly and get out of here," Malfoy shook Grey's hand and stood up from the table.
Nodding to the werewolf in farewell, he headed for the exit, while Grey, thoughtfully looking at Lucius's back, took a sip of beer: "If Malfoy really intends to help our people, then we can deal with them," thought the leader of the English werewolves.
Having made preliminary arrangements with his vassals for the raid, Lucius headed for the manor. Crabbe and Goyle were even excited about the upcoming battle, and they had no doubt that there would be a fight. Although both fighters had long been family men and each had a son, the blood of warriors often pushed them into all kinds of adventures.
At one time, they were very concerned that their suzerain had moved away from Voldemort's affairs and was more involved in financial projects than combat. When the arrests of the Devourers began, and some even surrendered to the Ministry themselves, Crabbe and Goyle were imprisoned along with the rest. But to their surprise, after a short time, both vassals were released for a large sum of money on the suzerain's guarantee, while Malfoy himself somehow cleverly avoided Azkaban, even presenting a completely clean forearm in court, although they knew for a fact that the Malfoys were the closest associates and sponsors of Voldemort and his movement.
They had taken part in raids against Muggle-borns and fighters of the Order of the Phoenix more than once. Therefore, the vassals never ceased to be amazed at the cunning and craftiness of their patron. So, as they gathered for today's "business," which was so reminiscent of the good old days, both fighters were genuinely happy and ready to have some fun.
***
Meeting in Gloucester at night, three unknown figures wearing devourer masks and a group of twenty werewolves slowly approached an ordinary grey building on a quiet street. One of the masked men stuck some kind of artefact into the ground and immediately activated it.
"The anti-detection dome is in place, boss," reported the unknown man in a hollow bass voice.
Two others immediately pulled out sticks and whispered a spell in a quiet, furious whisper, directing it at the entrance doors.
"Bombarda maxima," the echo of their voices had not yet reached the walls when a loud explosion rang out in the night, and the doors to the building, along with part of the brick wall, were blown inside. Dust rose into the air as the crowd of werewolves rushed into the building. Immediately, panicked screams, whistling spells, and the roars of werewolves could be heard from inside.
The devourers watched the situation closely, sending explosive and cutting spells at the few who tried to escape by jumping out of the windows. There were no windows at the back, so the Aurors holed up in the building had no other way out. Everything was going quite smoothly when, away from the building, right on the edge of the dome, lightning flashed and the five Aurors on duty, led by Alastor Moody, were transported to Gloucester through an emergency portal.
Instantly assessing the situation, they rushed towards the Auror building, attacking the three devourers on the run. Signalling to Grey about the problems, Lucius turned his attention to Moody. Some of the werewolves, having finally suppressed the resistance of the Aurors inside and freed the prisoners, jumped out into the street. Despite the flashes of spells, the werewolves, covered with protective amulets from Malfoy, were extremely dangerous to ordinary Aurors.
After several minutes of fighting, the only survivor from the squad of dark wizards who had come to the rescue was Moody, who had already destroyed about a third of the attacking werewolves and was successfully pushing back Malfoy and his vassals.
His experience and increased magical power, as well as his eye, which spun wildly through all three hundred and sixty degrees, allowed him to defend himself confidently and even periodically hit some of the attackers with spells.
Removing the anti-apparition dome to allow the remaining werewolves to leave with their freed comrades, Malfoy continued to press Moody. Coloured flashes of spells flashed by, and the dark wizard, forced to fight off a crowd of attackers, was already beginning to tire.
Alastor, of course, was still a death machine for all his opponents, but his impenetrable defence was beginning to fail, and he was hit a couple of times by serious curses from the Death Eaters.
Realising that he was about to be crushed, he struck in all directions with Confringo, then added Babbilius. Goyle was thrown against the wall by the explosion, but he fell to one knee and continued to shower Moody with Bombardus and Secus. Crabbe lay on the ground, convulsing from the lightning that had broken through his defence, and Malfoy leaned against the wall, his left leg torn apart by some dark spell that Moody was generous with, despite his supposedly light-oriented magic.
Noticing that the flow of lightning was beginning to weaken and the load on the amulets had decreased, Lucius threw Orbis at Moody, who was exhausted from the battle, and he was immediately buried up to his neck in the ground, deprived of mobility and the ability to continue the fight.
Realising that time was running out, the dark warrior rolled his eyes wildly, clenched his jaw tightly and activated the portal embedded in his tooth, which immediately transported the wounded Moody straight to the hospital reception, bringing with it another cubic metre of earth and paving stones.
"Expulso," thrown into the hole left by the dark wizard who had been pinned to the ground just a moment ago, only kicked up dust and stones. By this time, only three living beings remained on the street, and all the devourers were also badly battered. Grabbing Crabbe by the arms, Goyle dragged the unconscious body to Malfoy, who was still standing near the wall.
"We had a good time, boss, heh heh," Goyle said with satisfaction. "It's time to go home.
Pale as death, Lucius merely nodded, and the activated portal transported them straight to Malfoy Manor. Lucius summoned his house-elves to the apparition platform, and the little creatures immediately transported everyone to the infirmary deep inside the manor. Lucius immediately ordered first-aid kits to be brought and began to pour potions on the wound on his leg, while handing the second first-aid kit to Goyle.After spending several hours in the morning with a bottle of firewhisky and actively relieving stress, Malfoy summoned his Patronus and asked him to come to the family healer's estate. The old man appeared quickly and immediately set to work. Without asking about the cause of the injuries, he revived Crabbe by pouring some foul-smelling liquid down his throat.
He examined Goyle and, finding no serious injuries, turned to Malfoy. He looked completely unharmed, but very pale.
"And what happened to you, my friend?" he asked Lucius. Without changing his expression, Lucius showed him his torn trouser leg and his leg, which had been torn apart by a dark curse.
He was, of course, in great pain and eager to receive qualified help, but as a suzerain, he gave his men the opportunity to get to the healer first.
"I poured all the star anise tincture on it and drank a blood-building potion, but this dark curse in my leg continues to do its dirty work," Malfoy said hoarsely.
The healer immediately rushed to his leg and began to cast some diagnostic spells. Then he took some bottles of potions from his bag and began to pour them on the wound, causing Lucius to writhe and hiss. Then he forced him to swallow some equally unpleasant-tasting concoctions.
Finally, after about an hour, the elderly healer leaned back wearily in his chair and said:
"My lord, I have managed to save your leg from destruction, but I have some bad news. This dark curse has damaged your bone quite badly, so you will now have to walk with a cane to avoid putting weight on your leg.
"Well, a cane is not only a support, but also a stylish accessory for a gentleman," Malfoy said with a forced smile. "Therefore, I will humbly accept my fate. What's more, I will have a magic wand built into a beautiful cane so that, if necessary, I can surprise my enemies with a deadly blow.
"And the handle should be shaped like a snake's fangs," Crabbe chuckled, coming to his senses. "It will be a symbol of our community and the Slytherin snake, very symbolic, boss."
"All right," Malfoy sighed. "Thank you for your help, Doctor. If you'd like, stay for breakfast. Narcissa would be delighted to see you.
"Oh, no," the healer hurriedly replied. "I have so much to do, so much to do. Here are some more strengthening and blood-stopping potions for everyone," he said and hurried out.
After seeing the doctor and his loyal vassals to the apparition site, Malfoy sat down wearily in his chair and, looking out of the office window at his garden, smiled thoughtfully: "We may not have had a smooth day today, but at least we are no longer enemies with the werewolves, even if we are not friends. Joint ventures, especially dangerous ones, will strengthen our growing partnership. It's a pity, of course, that we didn't manage to bury Moody there, but sooner or later we'll get our hands on him. The experienced Auror has become even stronger, even though they said he was badly wounded in battle. However, judging by the force of his blows, it was completely impossible to tell that he had been hurt. Although, of course, we gave him a good beating. I think he'll be spending a couple of days in Mungo's."
Shaking his injured leg, Lucius grinned: "A little more, and I'll give the Malfoys such a fearsome reputation that it will be much easier for Cassius and Draco to take their rightful place in England. I'll do everything I can to make our family respected in this world, if I weren't Lucius Malfoy."
***
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