Get It Straight

"Let me get this straight."

Time passed. He quickly learned in the past eleven years, raising a mini-Potter and princess Potter was no easy task, and yet—

"Last year, my godson and his friends prevented Voldemort from stealing something that could potentially result in him living for years, and this year, they prevented," Sirius continued, then stopped, sitting there with his arms folded. In contrast, Harry sat in the chair beside him, smiling ear to ear while his glasses slipped. "Given what his father and I got up to, I can't lecture him on this exactly, but what about Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes. The boy-who-lived," Dumbledore said, the corners of his mouth twisting. The portraits of previous headmasters remained asleep around him, while his Pheonix FAux "If this is about what Augusta Longbottom will think..."

"Of course it is," Sirius said. "Acting like the adult here is tiring beyond belief." His eyes looked at the notebook, wondering when Tuni managed to get her hands on such a frightful item, let alone why. "James and Lily would kill me if they knew. Lily would really kill me a thousand times over."

"Harry, why don't you go and visit your sister in the infirmary, as well as Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Granger?"

Harry's mouth twisted into a frown, sliding down slightly. "But Dudley will be there."

Sirius stiffened, gray eyes on his godson, remembering the letter he'd received during Harry's first year imploring him to do something regarding that cousin of his having gotten an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, to which Sirius found himself doing the adult thing and imploring Harry that his cousin belonged there. "Of course, a Muggleborn being sorted into Slytherin is just as crazy as a Weasley," Sirius thought, remembering how Molly and Arthur Weasley's youngest boy ended up sorted into Slytherin and became fast friends with Harry's cousin. He nodded his head at the door. "Go. Your mother would want you too."

Harry sighed, then took off while Sirius watched him leave, feeling nauseated even after eleven years of having to act like the adult, the whole matter tiring him out.

"We're lucky the Weasley girl noticed something off," Dumbledore said.

"But not before what?" Sirius said. "Didn't you just say a Basilisk was petrifying the students? That my Tuni..." He paused, a slight guilt settling into his stomach at raising James' children, of referring to them as his. He shook his head. "She can be a bit spoiled, I know."

"Not exactly the keenest way to make friends, particularly in Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.

Sirius pointed a thumb at his chest. "Really?"

"Yes. There is that," Dumbledore said, looking at the book, frowning, thinking his words over carefully. "Lucius Malfoy."

"Why?" Sirus sighed. "Why would he..."

"Let me think," Dumbledore said, holding up a finger. "Favored by the Black family again."

"Well, not really," Sirius said, glancing away. "Just my father taking an interest in the children because..." He didn't finish, cringing at the thought of telling his father exactly what Harry and his friends had up to the last couple of years.

"You're also a major supporter of Arthur Weasley's Muggle Protection Act." A second finger was held up.

"Then why not target," Sirius said, only to stop. His ears burned, remembering Ginny Weasley followed Tuni that day, quickly hurrying away when she thought something was wrong. "No. No child should have been."

"And then there is the matter of his son."

Sirius stiffened. "He's still mad about that?"

"Isn't it as odd as a Muggleborn and a Weasley being sorted into Slytherin?"

"Or a Black being sorted into Gryffindor," Sirius said. "Narcissa holds me no ill wills, but then the way she begged me to look out for her boy the moment he was sorted into Gryffindor..."

"Well, the Ministry of Magic will be finding out that someone slipped such a horrid item to one of our first years," Dumbledore said, poking the item with his wand. "Though I can't rightly prove Lucius did this outside of my word."

Sirius reached for the item, picking up the journal to see the hole in the journal. "What is this?"

"Good question," Dumbledore said. "It's an item that belonged to Voldemort."

He stiffened, then flung the item onto Dumbledore's desk with disgust. "Bloody Merlin? Why?"

"To bring him back."

"Not possible."

"Well, not as he was," Dumbledore said. "No. A teenaged Voldemort from his school days? Without the knowledge he'd gained?"

"Bloody Merlin!" Sirius said, leaning forward. "You're being ambiguous. I hate when you're ambiguous."

"It's a Horcrux," Dumbledore said. "Something I think your grandfather, at the very least, would know something about."

"What are you..." Sirius stiffened.

"It's a Dark Art." A headmaster spoke, but not Dumlbedore.

Sirius turned, looking at the portrait of his grandfather's grandfather, a former headmaster.

"Ah! Phineas Nigellus. Nice of you to chime in," Dumbledore said, grinning despite the seriousness of what happened, but then Sirius remembered him speaking to the portrait in a way that would indicate Phineas Nigellus to him.

"Figures," Sirius said. "Dark Magic."

"Not what you think."

"What?" Sirius looked at Phineas Nigellus, watching the man sniff as the man looked down upon him.

"Why would you know? Given how much you hate the family?"

"Just tell him, Phineas," Dumbledore said.

"Not something we Blacks associate with," Phineas said. "No. Darkness of Dark, Sirius Orion."

"Too dark for even the Black family?" Sirius let out a laugh that sounded almost like a bark. "You serious?"

"You are Sirius," Phineas Nigellus said, resulting in Sirius stiffening.

His attention turned back to the journal. "This magic? That's too dark even for my family?"

"It involves the splitting of the soul," Dumbledore said.

"Distasteful business," Phineas Nigellus said. "But it makes sense of Riddle."

"Of who?"

"Riddle," Dumbledore said. "Tom Riddle, Voldemort's real name."

Sirius' eyes widened, reaching for the book. "Wait? So this being around? Is that why he tried to get his hand on the Philosopher's Stone a year ago?"

"It grants him immortality of such," Phineas Nigellus said. "As long as it remains intact."

"So with this destroyed, he's finished?" Sirius asked.

"I'm not so sure," Dumbledore said, looking at the journal. "This is, after all, Sirius, a Horcrux made in his youth."

"Don't tell me," Phineas Nigellius said. The tone of voice drew Sirius' attention to Phineas, his eyes taking in the way his ancestor's eyes widened in horror. "You think?"

"I do, but I can't prove my suspicions," Dumbledore said, looking at the item.

"What is it you suspect?" Sirius asked.

"That he bloody created more than one of these," Phineas Nigellus said.

"That makes..." Sirius paused, for some reason—

"It's rather irritating that he decided to challenge a magical being and not finish what he started."

"Mr. Black?"

Sirius didn't look up. "Is this what he meant?"

"Who?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius looked up. "My grandfather said something to me. At Regulus' funeral."

"Oh?" The headmaster frowned. "He is a wise man, you know."

"That," Sirius brushed the comment aside. "He said something about Regulus challenging a magical being and not finishing what he started. This?" He waved his hand at the journal. "Could he have found another one?"

"Bloody Merlin," Phineas Nigellius said, then quickly disappeared.

Sirius let out a curse. "Bloody Merlin. I didn't mean..."

"He's likely gone to speak with your grandfather," Dumbledore said. "But if there is a Horcrux that your brother found? Don't rule out him helping you find it."

"Yet if there's more than one," Sirius said. "He wouldn't have stopped at two."

"No. Not likely."

"Bloody Merlin!" Sirius ran a hand through his black locks of hair. "Why? Why does he have to be..."

"Mr. Black?"

"What if Regulus were alive?"

"Well, the Horcrux may be in his protection, which would be a problem," Dumbledore said.

"Here I was thinking he might help me," Sirius said. "But you think..."

"Oh, no!" Dumbledore smiled. "Young Regulus? I doubt Voldemort is where his true loyalties lie. He was..." There came a frown. "Many of us regret what happened to him, but if he's alive? That mind of his is something you should certainly seek out."

"Yeah. Right." Sirius frowned. "When was the last time we got along, and he's also a fugitive from the law. This isn't how I wanted to go into the summer break. Not at all."