(1995)
Regulus was sitting silently in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, waiting for his brother to show up so that they could talk.
He felt tired.
The last week - no the last months had been tiring in ways that Reg had never imagined when they were still planning how they would start their changes in the wizarding world.
Not that Reg had been the one who did the most planning.
Even now, he had no idea how he had ended up as his grandfather's friend's right hand man - as the one who would help conduct all those plans he had never thought of ever before, yet, here he was…
"Here I am, trying to start a revolt in the magical world with the aid of a family long dead, and family members who are the most contradictory I have ever seen," Reg said to himself aloud.
"Talking to yourself, now?" A voice spoke up from behind Reg. "Or did you actually notice me coming in?"
Reg started.
"Sal!" He exclaimed while turning around to actually look at the man who had entered the kitchen. "Do you need to scare me?"
The other man just looked at him, unrepentant.
"I'm sorry," he said, but his face said otherwise. "I didn't want to startle you."
Reg snorted.
"As if you're truly sorry," he countered. "You might not have done it on purpose, but that doesn't mean you're actually sorry."
Harry smirked.
"How right you are," he agreed and then pulled out a chair to sit down next to Reg. "Still waiting for your brother, I see."
"He doesn't yet know I'm there," Regulus replied unbothered. "I guess he will return here soon, anyway. He should be back way before the Order returns for one of their useless meetings."
Harry snorted.
"I believe that immediately," he said. "This Sirius - the one we get to see now - I think he might be the closest - even if he's a bit more mature - we will ever get to the Sirius he was before Azkaban."
Harry looked at Regulus thoughtfully.
"I guess," he finally admitted. "For all his childishness and the fact that Sirius started to live in the past after Azkaban… like he is now, he might be the best outcome, the best end product that could have emerged from the young man Sirius once was."
Regulus looked at Harry surprised.
"My brother," he asked slowly. "You met him back in the first war with Voldemort?"
Harry just smiled a bit grimly at that.
"I met him," he agreed. "And he got to know me quite well. I called him a friend for a while as well - just like I called Lily and James a friend as well. I guess, Sirius was one of the few who ever knew part of the secret I held close to my heart all my life."
Then Harry shook his head, before changing the topic.
"You know, Reg, when I met you…" he sighed and closed his eyes and Reg knew that his connection to Harry within the time of the first war would be revealed to him next. "I actually didn't plan to step into the chaos that surrounded you. You had already chosen your life and while I loved your grandfather and brother, I never saw something good in your father and I wasn't about to give you the chance of a doubt when you obviously had already chosen the side you wanted to fight on."
Reg sighed and leaned backwards against the back of his chair.
Obviously, his friend had decided to evolve the discussion to Regulus himself before Reg could even think about asking about their connection - or at least their former connection from the first war.
"I understand that," Reg agreed nevertheless. "My parents always pushed me into that one direction: To the fulfilment of our Dark Lord and a world of purebloods in power."
"And yet, you took a step back and returned to a less radical view," Harry answered, while closing his eyes.
Reg snorted.
"You mean I was forced to take a step back and see the truth," he corrected amused. "But then, you, Grandfather and the rest of your people were always there to show the truth to those who want to see it and to those who don't want as well…"
"I guess, you might be right," Harry agreed, his eyes clouding with memories…
(1970-1979)
The first time, Sal had heard about the emerging war, had been the day he had been contacted by old friends.
"Sal," the man greeted him. They had agreed on a meeting in the Leaky Cauldron - hidden in a corner and with a privacy shield in place.
"I see you aged quite well, my friend," Sal said and sat down after shaking the hand of the other.
"Well, I should hope so," the other man replied amused. "I have a lovely wife looking after me after all and children to ensure that gave me all that grey hair!"
Sal snorted amused.
"That's another way to put it," he agreed. "Now, tell me, how have you been, Arcturus?"
"I had a good life, Sal," Arcturus replied before he frowned. "Even if I think that my son is missing the backbone my father always had. He's… well, I guess he's far too much listening to Walburga - and you know that this daughter of Polly is the only one who actually inherited the well-known Black-insanity."
Sal raised an eyebrow.
"I always thought that insanity was just part of the rumours surrounding the Blacks," he countered.
Arcturus sighed.
"I wish," he said. "But I fear that in every other generation are one or two who… lose their grip on reality. And while I thought Walburga to be sane when my son wanted to marry her, since then I noticed that she definitely isn't. She even went so far to burn Marius from the family tree in Grimmauld Place."
Sal frowned.
"Is this the reason -"
"No," Arcturus countered immediately. "I have it under control and I will step in if she steps out of line. No, I contacted you because of a few rumours I heard that would be very bad if they turned out to be true…"
In the end, those rumours would be the reason why Sal actually decided to return to the war. This was Voldemort's war - and yet, Sal couldn't simply sit by and watch while Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle decided to act out their war on the shoulders of their followers.
Yet, there wasn't anything to go by but rumours - which would needed to be turned into facts before they could do anything.
Facts that Sal needed to find first - and which would take him two years to uncover even with the knowledge that he had to look for a 'Tom Riddle' or for 'Lord Voldemort'. But while he knew who to look out for, he had no idea who had actually been drawn to the new dark lord so early in his first raise to power…
In the end Sal had to spend one and a half years to uncover the group that had been drawn to Voldemort and yet, he hadn't had any success until the attacks started.
"You heard about those people one and a half years ago?" Charlus asked in surprise and Sal nodded sighing.
They had met at Charlus' home and were currently sitting in his living room together with Charlus' wife Dorea.
"Rumours only," Sal agreed. "Nothing valid - at least nothing until the attacks."
For a moment, Charlus said nothing and instead exchanged a meaningful look with Dorea, before he turned back to Sal to actually formulate the thoughts his wife and he shared.
"So… what else were you up to until now that it took you two months after the first attack to come here?" Charlus asked and Sal had to admit that the man had gotten to know him over the last war quite well. But then, that Charlus knew him was part of the reason why Sal had come to his godson first after returning from his search.
"I was researching the new dark lord," Sal answered, half-way sincere, since he couldn't say that he actually knew quite a bit about Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort already but had to confirm some of his facts before coming to his friends. "What I found wasn't pretty."
"What did you find?"
Sal's face darkened at that.
He had theoretically known already what he would find - or at least, he had partly known it ever since meeting the shadow of Tom Riddle when he was nothing but a twelve-year-old child.
Oh, back then, little Harry Potter hadn't known what he was looking at. Back then, he had only seen a little girl in the clutches of Lord Voldemort, not the abandoned child that had been Lord Voldemort once and who had echoed through the Horcrux little Harry had to fight.
It was now, looking back and remembering that Sal finally understood what he had seen when he had been nothing but a child.
"Too much people doing too little to help a once normal child," Sal replied to Charlus question, sighing. "Also, there is some evidence that he basically delved into the Dark Arts head first and found the most disturbing, most dangerous things he could and did them."
Rituals without protections from their magic.
Horcruxes.
Sal had known about both of them nearly as long as he had lived, but to research and find out how far the man who killed Lily and James Potter had gone was something else entirely - and therefore disturbing in a way, Sal had never expected his research to be.
Obviously both, Charlus and Dorea understood what Sal implied, because Charlus grimaced at that and Dorea looked at him sickly.
"I would prefer to be spared the details if I don't have to know," Charlus said honestly and Sal nodded.
"I don't think that you have to know," he told his godson - or was it his grandfather? "They're not important right now, anyway."
Dorea raised an eyebrow at that.
"Not important?" she asked incredulously but it was Charlus who answered.
"It's always the people first," he reminded her. "We will have to find a way to keep the people safe and then we will delve into how to stop that man permanently. Until then, stopping his troops is priority."
Sal nodded, feeling tired already by just thinking about it. Hadn't he fought a war just a few decades ago? Did he truly need to fight another one already?
"I need someone to open routes to smuggle people out of the country," Sal said, drawing on his knowledge about Voldemort's hatred for muggleborns. "I also need people for intelligence and counter attacks."
At that, Charlus started to grin. There was mischief in his eyes and an excitement that reminded Sal of Charlus' younger years.
"So, the Resistance is back?" Sal's godson asked interested, but Sal shook his head, determined to lessen the excitement Charlus obviously felt by the idea of returning to secrecy and adventure.
"Not yet," Sal cautioned. "First, I have to establish headquarters and a way for us to remain unseen and unspoken of. There aren't enough of us left to work openly against a new dark lord and finding others who are willing to work with us will be hard considering that Dumbledore managed to ensure that whole generations hero-worship him. There won't be a lot of people left who aren't inclined to follow Dumbledore or the new dark lord and who don't plan on staying neutral, anyway."
That removed the excitement from Charlus' face and made him frown instead.
"You mean, we won't have a lot of people here to fight," he said darkly. It was a justified understanding since Sal had no intention to include all of Europe - where a lot of his people had come from in the wars of Grindelwald - and a lot of those from Britain had already died or were quite old now.
Not all of them would think about returning, Sal guessed.
"We won't be as many people as we were before," Dorea agreed with a frown. "But that doesn't mean we will just sit by and watch while another dark lord decides to wreak havoc in our home!"
Charlus nodded grimly, then suddenly, a smile spread over his face that Sal knew very well. It was the same smile that Henry had spotted so very often while Sal had attended school with him. It was the same smile Harold Potter, son of Ralston Potter, had spotted the moment he had been about to pull another prank. It was the same smile Ralston had spotted, planning their assault. That smile had been on Ignotus face more than once and it was even the same smile Peverell had spotted when he ensured that Sal and the others would listen to one or another of his ideas.
It also vaguely reminded Sal of pictures he had seen such a long time ago that they were hazy even with his eidetic memory. Pictures of James Potter while planning a prank…
Oh, Sal knew that smile and suddenly he wondered why he still didn't dread it after all that time - but then, maybe that was because he himself showed it ever so often as well…
"Well, I guess we will have to raise our own generation," Charlus said in that moment. "We could start with our son James - he's exactly in the right age to be raised as a member of the Resistance!"
"Charlus! He's ten!" Dorea objected instantly.
"Exactly!" Charlus replied enthusiastically. "He hasn't gone to Hogwarts yet! We've still time to raise him anti-Dumbledore!"
Dorea groaned at that and Sal snorted.
Yes, that was a Potter-prank in the making. Sadly enough, he would have to stomp it down before it could evolve further…
"I don't think that your son will be a great help for at least another seven to ten years," he said amused, but serious. "But thank you for the offer."
It was in that moment that the door to the sitting room opened hesitatingly and a boy with messy black hair and brown eyes looked in.
"Did you call me, Dad?" the boy asked confused and Sal felt his heart standing still for a moment.
It was odd. Sal had lived thousands of life-times, but seeing his first birth-father for the first time still took his breath away. It wasn't that Sal still longed for his father - he had grown out of that as far as he could with a body frozen in time - instead it was more a longing to know the man who was one of the reasons that Sal was alive.
"Still, it's definitely something else to meet my own father when he's barely ten," Sal thought amused. "That definitely wasn't what I had planned when coming here…"
"No, son, I didn't," Charlus said, then gestured for James to come in.
"Sal," he said. "Meet my son James. James, this is a good friend of mine, Sal Sanctuary."
Sal sighed.
"Don't listen to your father, child. I'm Salvazsahar Malfoire," he corrected. "Not Sal Sanctuary - even if your dad insists on calling me that."
James grinned at that, then held out his hand.
"Hi, I'm James," he said. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Sal!"
Sal guessed that 'Mr. Sal' was at least better than 'Sal Sanctuary'.
"Nice to meet you, too, James," he said and took the offered hand. For a moment, they shook hands, and then Sal let go again and Charlus turned his child to face the door.
"And now off with you, you curious child," he said. "Your parents and their friend have to do some grown-up talk."
James scrunched his nose up at that.
"I don't understand how you can stand those things you talk about," he complained. "The most aren't even interesting!"
"Exactly," Charlus said. "And now go and play somewhere else!"
"Does that mean I'm allowed to go flying?" James asked excited.
"Only as long as one of the house-elves is watching you," Dorea answered immediately.
"Yippee!"
And with that, James left like a whirlwind, leaving behind his amused parents and an even more amused Sal.
Charlus snorted and then turned back to Sal.
"Now, back to the Resistance," he said, suddenly serious. "I'm in - but I think you guessed as much already. I will also activate Arcturus, Pollux and the others. I know from Pollux that at least his daughter Walburga - my wife's sister - thinks that the new dark lord has the right idea."
"That's concerning," Sal said sighing. "I know already that Arcturus will be in. He was the one who came to me about the rumours, but it would be good if you contact him anyway. Anything else?"
Charlus shrugged.
"Nothing much," he said before showing a bit amusement. "Marius is bored, I guess, but that should be rectified the moment I tell him that we're restarting the Resistance. Other than that, no, I don't think that there's anything else."
Sal just rolled his eyes.
Of course, Marius was bored.
Even being burned from the family tree in Grimmauld Place could have been only a temporary distraction for the mad Black, so Sal wasn't that surprised that Marius was craving the adventurous life of a member of the Resistance.
"Alright, I'll go and search for headquarters. You go and alert the others," he decided finally, not even saying a thing about that last information he had received from Charlus, and Charlus' grin widened.
"On it," he said. "This will be fun!"
Only a Potter could call something like a secretive organisation like the Resistance fun… but then, Sal wondered what that said about himself, in the end…
But then, that war they were about to start would take at least a decade to resolve - so maybe some fun added into all their organising and fighting might just help a bit.
"Alphart," Arcturus greeted his nephew.
The man in front of him stared at him coolly.
"Lord Black," he returned the greeting, but there was something distant in his icy voice.
It was clear that he might have come because Arcturus was his Lord and Head of the family, but not because he was actually willing to come and see the man who headed his family.
"You wished to see me, Lord Black," Alphart said, his eyes trained on Arcturus, not even thinking about acknowledging any familial relationship he had with his Head of House.
"I wished to see you, indeed, Alphart," the Lord replied while looking over his nephew.
"Why did you wish to see me, my Lord?" The younger Black finally asked, when the older wasn't more forthcoming.
For a moment, the older Black looked at the younger one thoughtfully but sternly then his eyes narrowed and he spoke up directly with the reason he had called the younger one for.
"I heard you refused to join the Dark Lord when your cousin offered to introduce you," he said, his stern gaze roaming over the face of the other Black.
Said Black's eyes narrowed at that, his face turning forbidding.
"And what if I did, my Lord?" He asked coolly.
His face told Arcturus that the other man was expecting either a punishment or even a banishment from the family for his decision.
Arcturus just looked at his nephew for a second or two, then his lips twitched in an attempted smile.
"Then I think, you might be one of the few who might still be right in the head in this family," the Black Lord replied and his nephew actually turned to stare at the man he had expected to disinherit him for his defiance.
"But… sir! You agree with the Dark Lord's view!" He stuttered, staring at the other man in confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I agree or not," Arcturus countered. "What matters is that the Dark Lord is a threat to our world and someone needs to keep connected to him and his peers to gain whatever knowledge they are willing to share."
Alphart looked at his Lord at that in surprise.
"Knowledge, Uncle?" He asked, for once - maybe the first time in his life - actually using a familial title to address the man he had known as his Lord for nearly all his life.
The older Black looked at him coolly.
"There are some things you can't prevent without the knowledge you gain from your enemy - and knowledge needs to be gained somehow," he answered the younger Black.
Alphart just stared at his uncle.
"I will keep those ties until at least my heir is at an age he can decide for himself," Arcturus continued.
"Your heir, Uncle -?"
Your nephew, Sirius," Arcturus replied.
Alphart just looked at his Lord in surprise.
"I thought that your son Orion -"
"He is following the new Dark Lord and listening to his wife who's following him as well," Arcturus pointed out dryly. "No, Alphart, nephew - this is not what I wish for my house to end in! Not as servants when we were once proud lords of the magical world!"
Alphart just looked at his uncle for a second or two, his face showing his indecision and surprise.
"If you spy on the Dark Lord," he finally said. "Who do you spy for? I can't imagine you spying for the Headmaster of Hogwarts or even the Ministry, Uncle."
"I'm not," the older man replied amused. "But they aren't the only ones fighting against the dark, you know, my nephew?"
Alphart blinked in surprise at that before his face turned into determination.
"If that's so, Uncle," he said. "Then please, introduce me to them! I can't fight with Dumbledore and I won't fight with the ministry, yet I can't stay neutral. Too much is happening to sit back and just watch. I wished there was someone else fighting before - but I never imagined that the one fighting might be part of his own family."
For a moment a pleased smile could be seen on his uncle's face, then the man clapped his nephew on the shoulder.
"I hoped you would say something like that," he said amused. "After all, there was a reason why I approached you today."
And like that, Alphart Black would be one of the first people to join the Resistance against Voldemort…
"Albus," the Headmaster looked up from his work to see one of his most trusted people in front of his desk. "There's something strange going on with Voldemort's people."
The Headmaster frowned.
"What did you discover, Alastor?" He asked, a bit concerned.
The first attacks of Voldemort's men had been three years ago and slowly but surely the battles had increased. Albus feared that soon they would be forced to talk about a war instead of single attacks from hostile forces.
"There're… rumours, Albus," Alastor Moody replied slowly. "Rumours about leaked information - and yet, neither we nor the ministry ever received any information about the Knights of Walpurgis' movements."
"Leaked information?" Albus repeated, his attention now fully on his second-in-command. "How did a rumour like that even crop up if there's no evidence within our group or the ministry?"
"There has been a healer on the side long before either we or the ministry even managed to turn up and alert St. Mungo's," Alastor replied immediately. "People who survived have talked about him. It's always the same description: black hair and eyes like the Avada Kedavra."
"Black hair and eyes like the killing curse?" Albus repeated and started to frown. "That sounds more like superstition."
"Superstition, Albus? The man has been seen -"
"The man described is a figure that appears all over history," Albus countered immediately. "I know that you're not that knowledgeable about wizarding myths, but I assure you, Alastor, that description isn't the first time heard about. I remember several instances in history that a person who helped was described like that - including the famous, fictitious character of Headmaster Sal Basiliskson of Hogwarts. There's no evidence, absolutely no evidence that a man like that ever existed - like there's been no evidence that any man with a description like that ever existed."
"Albus, you can't say that all those people would lie -"
"I never said they were lying," Albus interrupted his friend again. "I just say that they describe what they thought they saw - and what they thought they saw was mixed with the fairy tales they know and therefore their description of a passing healer who stopped to help turned into a description that everybody knows already - a description based on superstition."
For a moment, Alastor looked as if he wanted to object, but in the end, he sighed and shook his head softly.
"I will keep an eye on it anyway," he said. "Something is going on with the Knights of Walpurgis - or at least with somebody connected to them and superstition or not, I don't care, I will find out what's going on anyway."
Albus just sighed at the stubbornness of his friend.
"If you truly think you have to," he said. "But don't forget that we're not at war, currently, so please don't do anything to evolve our conflict to one."
Of course that plea was absolutely unnecessary because just two years later, they would be at war with the Knights of Walpurgis - by then known as Death Eaters, anyway…
"Sal," Dorea stepped into the room of the house they had agreed would be their headquarters. It was one of the Black-properties that Arcturus had hidden away from all those of his family who didn't belong to the Resistance - which were mostly the younger generations.
"I listen," Sal replied while he didn't look up from the potion he was brewing.
"I want to reinstate the Nachthexen," Dorea continued immediately. "Marius is already all for it. He has some ideas for our wings he wants to try out at all cost."
"The Nightwitches?" Sal asked surprised. "You want to call them back? You are aware while we're at war now with the Death Eaters, this isn't a war like the one with Grindelwald, aren't you?"
"I am," Dorea replied and there was something vicious on her face. "Yet, we know their plans thanks to Arcturus' connections - and they're spreading fear all over. It would be fair if they got a taste of their own medicine, don't you think so as well?"
Sal looked up at that.
"You want to spread fear throughout the Knights of Walpurgis?" He asked amused.
"The Death Eaters," Dorea corrected him and grimaced. "They changed names, if you remember."
"Oh, I know," Sal replied and he shook his head. "But Death Eaters… well, it sounds highfalutin, don't you think so as well?"
Dorea snorted.
"And Knights of Walpurgis doesn't?" She asked amused.
Sal shrugged.
"At least it doesn't offend an entity that maybe shouldn't be offended if you want to live comfortably," he countered.
Dorea looked at him surprised.
"I never thought that you would believe in entities like Death," she said, looking at him with new eyes. "I always thought you didn't believe in anything but your own abilities and the abilities of others."
Sal just raised an eyebrow at that.
"Then please explain the Potters to me," he countered. "They are descendants of the first grim, after all, aren't they?"
"We are," Charlus said who had just stepped into the room. "But do you even know what that means, Sal?"
Sal raised an eyebrow at the other man.
"You said that once there will be one of you who will balance Death," he countered. "Is there more to know? It's in your blood, after all."
"It is," Charlus replied calmly. "Like there is a dragon in yours, isn't there?"
That actually stopped Sal's actions absolutely and he turned away from his potion to stare at Charlus.
"A dragon?" He repeated, his eyes narrowed.
"An Elder Dragon," Charlus clarified immediately. "I can see it in the way you lead us; I can see it in the way you defend those that belong to you; I can see it in your eyes every time the beast inside you raises its head."
Sal's eyes narrowed.
"There's no beast in me," he corrected. "I know that people always tell me I should feel it. You aren't the first one who called me a dragon - but like those before, you're wrong."
Charlus looked at him surprised.
"Wrong?" He asked. "You actually know which creature you descended from?"
Sal stared at Charlus just for a second, before he replied.
"The basilisk," he said. "And the phoenix."
"The - how do you even know that?!" Dorea asked him surprised.
Sal just looked at those people who would one day be his grandparents… and he couldn't, simply couldn't lie to them.
"They were my grandparents," he said, looking first to Charlus and then to Dorea.
Dorea's eyes widened, but Charlus suddenly showed an understanding that Sal hadn't expected.
"The basilisk - they bit you, didn't they?" He asked Sal and Sal stared at the other man, confusion in his eyes. It didn't matter how long he had lived, there were things he had never found out simply because there hadn't been anyone whom he could ask without revealing too much about himself and his origin.
"How -?"
"You said there's no beast in you, yet you feel like a dragon to me - a beast-born of the immortal creatures," Charlus said. "I know, my family has forgotten a lot over the time, but we will never forget the immortal creatures and their descendants."
Sal stared at Charlus, his eyes narrowed.
"What exactly do you know about the bite of a basilisk?" He asked, and Charlus' eyes softened.
"You don't know, do you, Godfather?" He asked.
Sal just stared at him until Charlus sighed and closed his eyes.
"The bite of the basilisk is deadly for everyone - even their descendants," he said slowly. "To survive it as one of their descendants… There are stories in my family - stories told to us by Death themselves, it's said - which tell about the consequences of such a happening…"
Sal turned away from Charlus to tend to his potion and hide his frustration at the fact that he might have had the answer for years if he had just grown up with his grandparents or his parents.
"Can you… can you tell me?" Sal finally forced out.
"So you were bitten by your grandparent?" Charlus asked.
Before she was his grandparent, indeed - but Sal had found out years ago that the venom in his blood hadn't dissolved before he had been adopted, or even a long time after. It had basically been part of his blood since before he had been Myrddin's son, which also meant that most likely he could count it as being bitten by his grandmother, if he wanted it or not…
When Sal didn't reply, Charlus obviously interpreted it as a 'yes'.
"Death told us that there are opposites even in the immortals," he elaborated. "And like the dementors react to the phoenix, the basilisk's bite reacts with the beast in those descendants who turn into beasts over time - the strongest reaction is shown by their own descendants."
For a moment, he was silent until Sal actually looked up from his potion to meet his grandfather's gaze.
"You lost your beast that day you were bitten and survived," Charlus said, now addressing Sal directly. "You lost the beast, but something was born in its place as well. Basically, the barrier between the beast in you and the rest of your soul dissolved, turning you into a being unnatural to magic and the world - a being that shouldn't exist."
Unnatural.
It wasn't the first time, Sal had been called by that one word…
" And purebloods are unnatural," one of the lords in the Gathering of the Lords had told them when Sal had been Salazar Slytherin.
" He's a child of our blood," one of Ekrizdis' dementors had rattled. "Unnatural! Half-breed! Soul-destroyer!"
" Monster-child," Ekrizdis himself had called him, naming him unnatural in another way.
To hear it again from his own grandfather… it was odd, but surprisingly not hurtful because Charlus might have called him 'unnatural', yet would not not abandon or reject Sal even if he knew that Sal was his own grandson.
"Unnatural," Sal repeated anyway.
Charlus looked at him guiltily at that.
"That's what it was called in that story," he said. "But then, Death's Balance was called that as well in our stories. Sometimes it's necessary to go against the laws of nature… like Death's Balance needs to be unnatural to counter Death's influence on the natural world. Maybe, there's a reason why you exist as well."
Sal blinked at that.
"Death's Balance is unnatural?" He repeated. "I thought being the Master of Death was being Death's Balance and therefore the last one who had that role was part of your family?"
"It is and they were," Charlus replied. "The First Grim was the last Master of Death, but one day there will be another - and they will go against nature like the First Grim did; after all, how else would you call it if it's the son of Death who gives life?"
"But it wouldn't be Death's son the next time around," Sal pointed out tiredly. "His son is dead already."
"His son, yes, but our family exists, still," Charlus replied. "Most likely it will be one of my own descendants who will take up that title as well."
Sal felt dread settle in his stomach at that.
One of Charlus' descendants.
Sal was one of them.
"Of course," Charlus added as if to calm his own mind at that thought. "The descendant who could take up that title, would have first to be unnatural in their own way - otherwise there's no way that they could be powerful enough to balance an entity like Death."
Then Charlus laughed.
"Of course, having a basilisk as one of their grandparents, being bitten by them and surviving might just be enough," he added a bit amused. "So I guess I should ensure that my James doesn't marry a basilisk in the future!"
"Charlus!" Dorea reprimanded him. "Don't you dare to restrict your son's love choices!"
"Yes, dear!"
But while the couple joked back and forth, Sal turned back to his potion, his face expressionless.
" Of course, having a basilisk as one of their grandparents, being bitten by them and surviving might just be enough," Charlus had said… so what meant that for Sal, who was bitten and had lost the beast that should have slept in the depth of his soul? What did that make Sal whose Firbolg inheritance was so deeply connected to his soul that even a born Elder Dragon couldn't distinguish between the phoenix-basilisk part of Sal and the lesser one of the Elder Dragon?
And did Sal truly want to know?
"Well, Sal," Dorea spoke up in that moment. "What about the Nightwitches, now?"
Sal blinked and returned from his brooding to the presence.
"If it makes you happy," he agreed. "I don't think it will hurt us if we try."
Of course 'try' meant that as soon as the witches returned to the fight - which would take a few years because they needed to recruit and train up new witches first - the Death Eaters' would pick up on Grindelwald's men's most used cry when fighting Sal's people.
"Nightwitches - safe yourself if you can!"
But then, that was nothing that hadn't been expected by Sal and his people…
"Uncle," Alphart Black who was looking at one of the plans of the Dark Lord the resistance had pieced together, looked up surprised to be interrupted by something he was normally left alone while doing it.
"Andromeda," he said surprised. "Shouldn't you be at home, preparing for your wedding?"
His niece snorted.
"Well", she said. "I will marry, but I won't marry the man my parents chose for me. My fiancé Ted and I came here because I told him that you at least were a decent person and he wanted to meet at least a part of my family if he could."
Alphart looked his niece over at that and found her expression as defiance as his own had been back then when he had been confronted by Arcturus Black.
"Ted," he repeated. "Ted who?"
"Ted - well, Edward Tonks," his niece replied, staring at him coolly. "He's a Hufflepuff - and a muggleborn."
Alphart blinked, then he turned back to his plans.
"Well, good for you," he said. "If you need help to start your family, ask your grandfather or your Great-Uncle, will you?"
Andromeda spluttered.
"Neither Grandfather nor Great-Uncle Arcturus would ever help me so that I can marry a muggleborn!" She pointed out immediately. "Uncle! They're allied with the new Dark Lord, they would never -"
"Ah, but that alliance is only temporary until Arcturus finds another way to gain intelligence on him," Alphart replied and waved it off. "Your Uncle Marius is already planning the finishing bang when we dissolve the alliance for good."
"My Uncle Marius ?!" Andromeda repeated, her eyes now wide. "I thought he was a squib and banished from the House of Black! Father always implied -"
"Your father is an idiot, just like the rest of our damn generation," Alphart countered. "With the exception of me and Lucretia, they've all lost their minds not long after their birth."
That at least ensured that his niece first gawked at him before starting to snicker.
"I knew there was a reason why Sirius and I always liked you, Uncle," she said amused. "But that doesn't mean that you're truly sane, you know, Uncle. Truly! Going to Grandfather or Great-Uncle! That's not the sanest suggestion, you know?"
For a moment, Alphart said nothing to that exclamation of his niece, then his face turned serious.
"You know, Andromeda," he finally said. "If you don't believe me - then at least let me take you to Sal. He might be someone who could help you even if you don't get Uncle Arcturus' or Father's help in the end."
"Sal?" Andromeda repeated the unfamiliar name with a frown.
"Sal Sanctuary," Alphart clarified. "He and some others as well as I are opposing the Dark Lord from the shadows."
Andromeda looked at her uncle in surprise at that.
"You oppose the Dark Lord and his ideas?" She asked in disbelief. "And Grandfather and Great-Uncle haven't disinherit you for that?"
"They haven't," Alphart agreed. "And they won't. Don't worry about it. Now - will you at least let me introduce you and your fiancé to Sal Sanctuary?"
For a moment, Andromeda looked at her Uncle in amusement.
"Alright," she agreed. "I will."
Like that Andromeda and Ted Tonks were introduced to the Resistance - and Andromeda to the Nightwitches.
"Oh, dearie, it's quite easy to fly a broom like we do! C'mon, let me show you, dearie, you might even love it - and admit it, as a Black-woman you were basically born to be one of us!"
"Aunt Dorea…"
"Oh, don't 'Aunt Dorea' me, Andromeda! You and I know both that it's the Black-blood in you that lets you come here and act against the current Dark Lord!"
Well, when it was said like that, there was no way that Andromeda could actually object…
"Arcturus," the greeting was cold, but not hostile.
The man who greeted the Lord of House Black was regal in his own way, his long, white-blond hair braided in the style of Lords' long past.
"Abraxas," the Black Lord returned the greeting as coldly as the one he had received. "How do you fare - and how does your… master… fare?"
At that, the blond man frowned.
"You sound… disapproving of our lord," he said slowly.
"He's no lord of mine," Arcturus countered immediately. "He might be your lord, Abraxas, for all I know, but he's not mine and he will never be."
At that, the other man frowned.
"I know that you searched out our lord's people within the last years," he pointed out to Arcturus. "I'm aware that your heir's son isn't interested in our lord, but considering that his cousin Bellatrix has joined us just months ago, we thought you interested as well."
"Bellatrix joined without my consent," Arcturus replied coolly. "My daughter-in-law might sympathise with your cause, like my son and heir, but that doesn't mean that I am as well. As a fact, I will ensure that my heir's son will be my heir instead of my son within the next few days."
That actually left the other man speechless.
"Arcturus!" He finally exclaimed. "I know, we have been old friends but this -"
"Is a fact," Arcturus interrupted him coolly. "My heir's son will turn seventeen in less than a months. Until now, I kept my son as my heir - but the moment my grandson will turn seventeen, he will be my heir instead. Of course, considering that I needed to play it safe, I decided to keep ties with those who follow that new dark lord until now as well. It was just reasonable to ensure the safety of my line until my heir was grown enough to look after himself."
The other man frowned at that.
"I know that we're old friends, Arcturus," he said slowly. "But confessing that you only held your close ties with our lord to… what? Know our plans?"
"That was part of it," Arcturus agreed immediately, not even bothered by the fact that the other man looked at him in horror. "But then, I wanted to get to know your dark lord's character as well. I needed to know who I would be facing the moment it was finally safe to step out of the shadows."
Abraxas Malfoy looked at the Black Lord frowning.
"And now, you decided it's finally time to step out of the shadows and openly oppose the dark lord?" Abraxas asked his friend, still frowning.
Arcturus just looked at his friend coolly.
"So you will go to your lord and expose me to him?" He asked and when Abraxas kept his silence, the Black Lord nodded. "I guessed as much. We're friends first - even in your mind. You wouldn't expose me, no matter what I said to you."
At that, relief spread over Abraxas' face.
"So… this was a test?" He asked hopefully.
As an answer, the Black Lord pulled out a file and held it out to Abraxas.
"In a matter of speaking," he agreed. "Read this, Abraxas - and then decide your side. Either the half-blooded liar or our friendship, it's your decision."
With that, the Black Lord turned and left the manor of his friend of many years, well aware of the fact that this might be the last time he would be able to call Abraxas Malfoy his friend ever again - because be as it may, Sirius was coming of age in just a few months' time and the war was heating up further and further. Soon, everybody would have to choose a side… and Arcturus Black, no matter his connection to the people who followed the dark lord, had chosen his side long before the war even started.
There was no way in hell that Arcturus Black would ever go against the men who had fought with him side by side in another war - even if it meant that he had to try and at least get the one person he considered important on this other side as well…
"Fawarx," the phoenix in front of Sal returned the gaze coolly.
The phoenix looked a bit beat up and tired. He was pale in a way that didn't look too healthy and the human body he had taken looked faded and less human than it normally had. On Fawarx cheeks were still small red and golden feathers and his eyes looked more like a bird than human.
"Egg of my egg," Fawarx returned the greeting, his voice more like the alluring sound of a phoenix cry than a human voice.
"What are you doing here, Grandfather?" Sal asked, his eyes resting concerned on the tired phoenix.
The phoenix smiled at him - a smile a lot stiffer than Sal was used to.
"I'm sorry, egg of my egg," he said tiredly. "I fear I'm slowly but surely on my way to my final burn."
Sal's breath hitched at that.
"Grandfather!" But before he could say more, Fawarx reached out and touched Sal's face.
"Not yet," he assured his grandson. "Not yet, and not for at least a few hundred years - but someday I will have my final burn. I can already feel it in my bones. It won't be too far in the future anymore."
Sal bit his lips and closed his eyes.
"I…"
"You won't be alone," Fawarx assured him immediately. "I will stay with you - even if I won't be able to turn human anymore in only a few years. Unlike the basilisk, the phoenix doesn't lose their mind - instead they burn and simply never return… like my ability to change into a human for a time will burn into non-existence with my next burning day."
Then the phoenix smiled at his grandson.
"Nevertheless, never believe that I will leave you," he told Sal. "I might be beyond what you can see - but I won't leave you, like your father never truly left you as well, like your grandmother is still there for you, even if she doesn't remember you anymore."
Sal smiled, tears in his eyes.
"I know, Grandfather," he agreed. "I know."
Fawarx sighed, his hand - with more feathers than skin - reached out to card through his grandson's hair.
Sal closed his eyes at that, savouring the touch of his grandfather's hands.
"You're here because of something else, aren't you?" He asked tiredly. "You're not just here to tell me that I'm losing you, too."
"I'm not," his grandfather agreed with a sigh.
Sal opened his eyes again to look at his grandfather.
"Why are you here?" He asked, before vague memories of a time so far back - and yet so close in the future suddenly resurfaced. "Are you here because of Dumbledore?"
Sal tried to keep judgement out of his voice, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop the judgemental tone of his voice.
His grandfather snorted.
"I actually don't care about the current Headmaster of Hogwarts in one way or the other," Fawarx replied. "But Hogwarts and you - I care about."
At that, Sal looked at his grandfather surprised.
"Grandfather," he said, staring at the phoenix.
The phoenix just carded through Sal's hair a bit more.
"Hogwarts… I'm not too sure what's going on there, but the moment I returned… there's something different there. I can't hear my egg's voice anymore," the phoenix said and Sal closed his eyes again, this time full of bitterness.
"Whatever it is," he said bitterly. "I can't go and take a look - at least not as long as Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster of Hogwarts."
The phoenix snorted.
"The wards are yours. If you want them - you're still their master," he pointed out.
Sal inclined his head.
"That I am," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean anything at all. I can't return right now - and not for the next decade or more at least. The school…"
"Will be safe," the phoenix interrupted him. "I will personally ensure the safety of the students and the school."
Sal stared at his grandfather.
"That would bind you -"
"Your grandmother is there - and while she doesn't remember me, she's still there," Fawarx reminded him. "I won't be alone, and I won't suffer there."
Sal just stared.
"But -"
"The school will be safe," the phoenix repeated. "You don't have to worry about it. No matter what changed, no matter whatever went wrong there - I will keep it safe for you until you can come back there and take a look yourself."
"And when your time is up?" Sal countered. "What when you can't change anymore - when you can't remember anymore?"
"I'm not a basilisk or an Elder Dragon, egg," his grandfather countered amused. "Even if I won't be able to turn human anymore, I won't forget. I will vanish to the undying flame, I won't lose myself to the beast."
Sal just looked at his grandfather, his eyes dark with grief.
"Grandfather…" he whispered.
The phoenix just caressed his grandson's hair again.
"You're everything for me, my egg's egg," Fawarx said smiling. "My son, my wife, my grandson and you - you are those who are the closest to me, and I will do everything, absolutely everything for you!"
Sal smiled at the phoenix, but the phoenix reached out and grabbed his grandson's shoulders.
"I mean it, Salvazsahar!" That actually gave him his grandson's absolute attention. The phoenix normally never used his grandson's name… "If I have to give my life for you, I will. If I have to go against nature for you, I will. I will even go against my own heart if it means that you or Ana will survive."
Sal shuddered, in his mind the memory of a phoenix blinding a basilisk…
I will even go against my own heart if it means that you or Ana will survive.
A phoenix going against a basilisk and a boy cowering on the floor in front of the giant snake.
And Sal couldn't help but believe his grandfather that he who do everything, absolutely everything for his grandson and great-grandson.
It had taken nearly a year, but at the end of it, Arcturus and Abraxas met again - this time because Abraxas asked for it.
"Arcturus," he greeted the other man. "That file… how did you come by it?"
"A friend of mine gave it to me," Arcturus replied immediately. "It was part of his research into the Dark Lord when the man started to gather followers."
"Yes, followers," Abraxas spat, his eyes full of fury. "Followers of a man whose line has been disowned from Slytherin for centuries! A man, who is nothing but a half-blood yet talks about the greatness of purebloods and their power!"
There was fury in his eyes.
"He branded my son! He used me! And he uses everybody else!" He stared at the Black Lord icily. "He will bring us all nothing but ruin!"
Then his eyes caught the Black Lord's gaze.
"I finally understand why you came and gave me that file. I finally understand why you oppose him!" His eyes stayed locked with those of the lord. "My son might not be willing to listen to me right now - too enamoured with the dark lord, as he is, but I won't sit by and watch while the darkness wins what shouldn't be won. And maybe, one day, my son will see reason as well. He's still a child, after all."
Of course, when Lucius Malfoy finally understood the Dark Lord's true nature, he would be far too deep into the circle of hatred already to simply step out and too cowardly to forge his own path despite his connections to the dark. It would take Salvatio Malfoire stepping up and forcing him to finally admit that he had followed the wrong path all along…
The attack on Diagon Alley was vicious - yet, it found a resistance that hadn't been expected by the attackers at all.
"Dorea! Charlus! Are you insane?!"
"Just a bit, Garrick!" Charlus called back while taking down first the Death Eater to his right and then the one to his left. "Why do you ask?"
Dorea behind him laughed, before she jumped up in the air again, supported by the broom bound to her back, just to land with a round-kick, bringing down three Death Eaters with that kick at once.
"Oh, come on, Garrick," she called. "It's not the first time we have a confrontation with one against twenty!"
The wandmaker who was fighting a bit down the street, sighed.
"I wasn't commenting on your fighting!" He called back then.
"Then what were you on about?" Charlus asked and took down another Death Eater.
Ollivander threw a disbelieving gaze towards the Potter-couple before he gestured with his wand down the street, not caring that he took out the eye of a Death Eater with the tip of his wand. Annoyed by the Death Eater in his way, he took out the howling man to ensure that the Potter-couple actually knew where he was pointing.
Dorea followed his wand with her eyes.
"So?" She asked and kicked another Death Eater in a very sensitive place, before releasing him from his misery. Charlus and Ollivander winced. "It's not as if we could have left him at home. We wouldn't be very good hosts if we did, would we?"
Ollivander looked sceptically down the alley.
"I still say you're insane," he decided in the end and took down a Death Eater who had wanted to sneak up from behind before he sliced his own finger open and bled on the street.
The next moment there was a flash all over the alley when wards that had been dormant since the time of Lord Morgan were activated.
At least half a dozen Death Eater were caught in the activating wards and burned to crisps.
"And here you go around and call us insane," Charlus commented while he looked at the charred remains of one of the Death Eaters. "Was that really necessary?"
"It was," Ollivander replied calmly. "They're there to keep the alley safe, after all - unlike your own little… addition."
"Garrick!" Dorea reprimanded him immediately. "He's my brother!"
"So?" Ollivander replied. "He's dissecting Death Eaters in the Alley! There could be children around, watching!"
Dorea frowned.
"Hmm…" she said thoughtfully. "Good point."
Then she turned around and called out to her brother.
"Marius!" She cried. "Take it to Knockurn Alley if you want to take them apart. There're children here!"
"That… was not what I meant," Ollivander corrected sighing - but then, he guessed a solution like that could work as well…
But then, what else could he expect from the Black siblings who made Grindelwald's armies cry for their mothers in fear?
Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk in his office.
He felt old.
It seemed to him that it must have been decades since he last felt in control, since he last felt safe in the British Wizarding World.
He closed his eyes.
In that moment, there was a knock on his door.
For a moment, Albus actually contemplated ignoring it, but in the end, he forced himself to answer like he always did.
"Come in, Alastor, my boy."
The door opened and a singed looking man entered. He had some new, gruesome looking scars in his face - still red and swollen - and his eyes were dark with hidden worry.
"Albus," he greeted the Headmaster of Hogwarts with a severe tone of voice. "Diagon Alley was attacked two hours ago."
Albus closed his eyes and sighed, already resigned to the violence accompanying that statement.
"How many died?" He asked, while mentally wondering if he wasn't getting too old to lead a war.
Albus Dumbledore had never been the most conflict orientated person. The last time he had been part of a conflict, he had tried to end it as soon as possible - something that he had been able to, luckily.
But Tom Riddle wasn't Grindelwald - and unlike with the later, Albus had no chance to use a bit of luck to overwhelm Tom Riddle.
"Not even a handful died," Alastor answered in that moment, stopping Albus' thought process and making him look up in surprise.
"How?!" He asked his second in command. "The Aurors-"
"Were too late as always," Alastor interrupted him gruffly. "It were the Potters and that damn Black-squib who acted. That insane people came tumbling out of Ollivander's as if the old wand maker send a dragon after them - just to fuck up the whole operation from that new Dark Lord's followers within seconds."
Albus looked quite surprised at that.
"Fleamont and Ephi-"
"Nah - not them," Alastor waved off with annoyance. "The other damn Potters. Charlus and Dorea. If those two weren't so obsessed with staying with the DoM I'd recruit them for the Aurors immediately… and that insane Black-squib as well just for laugh!"
Albus frowned.
"They actually fought the Death Eaters?" He asked concerned.
"Pah!" Alastor spat. "Fought them?! They decimated them! Took them apart as if they were damn toddlers running around with a wand and not trained followers of a dark lord, well versed in the dark arts!"
That was… concerning.
As much as Albus didn't like those particular Potters - he had kept an eye on them since Charlus Potter was heard of the first time. Albus had always been wary of that man - had always suspected that that man was deeper entrenched in the dark arts than it was good for others. Charlus' marriage with Dorea Black only showed him that his fears were true.
That display in Diagon Alley definitely didn't help with his fears…
"The Potters," he finally whispered. "Why were they there?"
Alastor shrugged.
"Damn if I knew," he countered. "But damn we were happy that they were. Those three bastards too down Death Eaters as if it was a tournament. I'd so wish they were part of my Aurors!"
"They're dangerous," Albus pointed out. "And they took the law in their own hands…"
He knew that he sounded quite a bit like a hypocrite with those words, considering that he was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix - but at least he had his people forbidden to kill the enemy. His people were there to defend the population - not to kill off the opposition. Everything else but defence was a decision of the law enforcement and politics. Albus and his people wouldn't overstep their boundaries there…
"Ernie…" Sal started to say when he saw the addition Ernie Prang had brought with him to the meeting of the members of the Resistance. "Don't tell me you lured them into your Knightbus and then kidnapped them!"
Ernie blinked and then looked backwards towards the two who followed him. Both red-heads looked a bit worse for wear and were looking at Ernie a bit in apprehension.
"I might…" Ernie finally confessed, before he shrugged, "but then, they were discussing Dumbledore and his lack of acting against the Death Eaters quite loudly in the Leaky Cauldron last week. I just thought they might be interested in the alternative."
"So you brought them here," Sal concluded and closed his eyes.
Honestly, between Mad Marius and some of the others he often wondered if he was the only one sane left in that whole bunch.
"Wait," the red-head on Ernie's left spoke up in that moment. "Is that Mum?"
Sal followed his gaze to Lucretia Prewett, née Black.
"And Dad!" The other red-head added surprised while looking at Ignatius Prewett, the husband of Lucretia.
"What are you two doing here, Mum, Dad?" The two red-headed twins intoned together. "We thought you refused to fight against Voldemort!"
"We don't refuse to fight against a dark lord, children," Ignatius said sighing. "It's more that we refused to fight at Dumbledore's side - well, at least Lucretia refused to do so; she's a Black, after all."
The two sons looked at each other.
"So you what - fight against him here?" The right twin asked amused.
"Exactly," Ignatius replied immediately.
"This is the Resistance," Ernie added. "Some people here fought against Grindelwald already, others joined some time in this war. If you want to be more hands on when it comes to the fight against the dark lord - you're definitely welcome to join us."
The twins looked at each other.
"So… you're actually truly fighting against Voldemort and not just sitting there and talking?" One of them asked interestedly.
"Why didn't you ever tell us about an option like that, Mum, Dad?" The other asked instead.
The parents sighed and looked at each other.
"You weren't willing to listen," they pointed out to their sons in the end. "All we ever heard was 'Dumbledore this' and 'Dumbledore that'… we never thought that you could have been interested."
The twins looked at each other for a second.
In the end, they shrugged both.
"You might be right, Mum and Dad," they both agreed in the end. "But then, back then we were children and bedazzled by the words of the Headmaster and the stories about his deeds."
Then they stepped up to the table and sat down into two empty chairs.
"Alright," they said in unison. "Let's talk plainly. What exactly do we do to fight against Voldemort?"
They would soon learn that fighting with the Resistance meant to fight in secret and with all the deception they could manage. It would be totally different to their normal Gryffindor approach - but it stopped a lot of the Death Eater attacks a lot better than anything else ever could…
Of course, it would only help when they added a millennia old strategist some months later to their ranks…
"Pater."
Sal stared at the vampire in front of his door.
"Sal? Is there anybody we know at the door or are you just staring out of it for whatever reason?"
Sal turned to look at Arcturus and Pollux Black who looked at him in concern. Both of them had their hands on their wands, clearly ready to draw them if necessary - and considering that Sal had stopped dead in the door after opening it, the seemed to think their concern was valid.
Sal sighed, before finally stepping aside.
"Don't worry," he told the men behind them. "He's not a threat."
"Not a threat?" The man who stepped through the door asked amused. "But Pater! How can you actually say that and destroy my reputation? I worked hard for it, after all!"
Sal sighed, but resigned himself inwardly to the big mouth of his son for the next ten years at least…
"Ana," he reprimanded his child anyway.
The vampire grinned at him, showing his teeth and both Arcturus and Pollux exchanged a disbelieving glance after recognising the vampire for what he was, before Pollux snorted in amusement.
"I should have guessed that you would even reprimand vampires of a few hundred years of age like they were your own, unruly children," Pollux finally said amused.
Sal raised an eyebrow, but Anastasius snickered.
"Yes, Pater," he exclaimed. "Why do you reprimand me as if I were your own son?"
"Anastasius Arthur Lucidarius Sanguini!" Sal reprimanded his son with a stern gaze. "Don't play with the mind of children!"
At that, Arcturus and Pollux actually exchanged a look.
"Children?" Arcturus repeated. "Did you just call us children, Sal?"
Sal threw a guilty look at his friends.
"I'm sorry for calling you that," he apologised. "I didn't mean to say it how it turned out."
"But you still meant it," Arcturus pointed out, more amused than offended.
Sal looked at his friend guiltily.
"I might have meant it at least a bit," he agreed, not bothering to lie to his friends. "But then, I am older than you by enough to be your father, aren't I?"
"And grandfather… and great-grandfather… and -"
"Ana!"
"Sorry, Pater," the vampire replied. "But honestly, if you want me to shut up, give me something to do."
Sal pinched his nose with a sigh.
"Alright, Ana," he finally agreed. "But you're going to help as a strategist and a smuggler. If I catch you fighting the new Dark Lord or his minions, I will punish you!"
Ana pouted.
"But… strategist and smuggler - that sounds so lame!" He complained in the voice of a five-year-old, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
Sal rolled his eyes at his son.
"Childe," he countered. "I definitely don't need another Gryffindor in the midst of things. I've already more than enough of those around, after all!"
"As you wish, Pater," the vampire agreed readily and then skipped over to the table to look over their plans.
Arcturus and Pollux watched him with a raised eyebrow while the vampire was studying the plans while humming "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.
"He's a bit insane, isn't he?" Pollux commented a bit amused.
"A bit?" Arcturus asked amused. "I would say he might even rival the Blacks in their way of insanity."
Sal threw the other two an annoyed look.
"Stop this," he told them coolly. "Ana's not insane - just a bit too Gryffindor for his own good. I won't let you compare him to your own offspring just because you actually failed while rising them."
At that, the other two exchanged a glance over Sal's head before patting him on the shoulder left and right.
"Of course, just tell that to yourself," Arcturus agreed. "After all, taking in a vampire as insane as our own children as your own child wouldn't do for the great Sal Sanctuary!"
"I'm not a place!" Sal immediately objected.
"Ah, but you're the lord of enough land to actually be called a place!" the vampire from the table called out, showing them that he heard everything. "And honestly, Pater, after being called that many different names, being called a place or not shouldn't matter to you so much."
Sal sighed.
Of course his son would take the side of his two friends over his own…
But then, considering that he wouldn't get rid of his son anymore, he guessed he would have to live with it for now - or at least not until the end of the war…
"We lost Dorea and Charlus today," Sal started their meeting with. "They died shielding some muggleborns in Diagon Alley in the third attack since the start of the war."
The others - especially Fleamont and Euphemia Potter and sat around him silently. They all were grieving in a way or form, especially Fleamont who had lost his Charlus-identity just a day before…
Of course, Fleamont and Euphemia would actually lose their life just two years later. While their first time - the 'death' of Charlus and Dorea Potter - was declared a death by dragon pox, the second time the ministry didn't bother to hide the death as anything but what it was: a death by the hands of the Death Eaters.
"At least they 'died' doing what they believed in," Alphart Black spoke up.
He would die half a year later, kicking the asses of some very unlucky Death Eaters. Two of them would be found in St. Mungo's for the rest of their lives, three in the graveyard and one would hide away to hide the scars he received while killing Alphart Black. After his death, Alphart would be blasted of the family tree by Walburga after leaving Sirius some money in his last will and testament. If Alphart would have ever found out about his sister's actions, he would have felt proud since he adored Marius Black like nobody else and getting the same treatment like his idol - well, Alphart would have thought it worth dying for…
"And they went down fighting twenty-seven Death Eaters and winning," Anastasius Sanguini added. When the vampire had turned up, Sal had just pinched his nose before gesturing for his son to come in. He knew that, if he had refused, his son would have found another way to fight against Voldemort. Sal thought it best to keep the trouble-maker close and possible out of earshot and eyesight of the dark lord - which was easier said than done.
"They also succeeded in ensuring that the smuggler's point in Diagon Alley won't be found by any Death Eater ever again," Arcturus added.
His mood had darkened over the years the longer he watched one Black after another succumbing to Voldemort's spell. When Andromeda had run away to marry a muggle, Arcturus had looked as if he wanted to kiss the girl - and then Pollux had come and reminded him that the Blacks were officially dark and that he had to disown the girl instead of kissing her.
So Arcturus had grumbled and went to Gringotts to ensure that the girl was disowned for the next twenty years if he couldn't reinstate her earlier - and he wouldn't as long as there was a dark lord out there going after half-bloods and muggleborns. He had filled her vault with gold and written her a letter to keep it quiet.
Andromeda Tonks and her husband Ted had been the only new members of the Resistance that were still beneath twenty.
"It's true," Garrick Ollivander said in that moment. "The wards on Diagon Alley are better hidden than they ever were."
Sal just nodded.
Even if the Potters hadn't died in the end, they had brought a sacrifice for the Alley - and that was enough to evolve the wards into something more than they had been before.
"Soul-wards are always better than simple blood-wards," Sal agreed. "Still, we can't get careless. The attacks of Tom Riddle have grown in numbers and strength. Our intelligence officers have trouble to get the messages to us in time for us to get out the people and we've still no confirmation about any of the rituals Tom Riddle did to ensure his immortality."
Sal might be quite sure that Voldemort had undergone the ritual to create Horcruxes - he had had his atr 's and godfather's evaluation of his scar and his own memory of second year after all - but he hadn't found any other confirmation about Horcruxes until now. No rumours, nothing. It was disconcerting and a little bit frightening. But as long as there weren't any rumours, searching for horcruxes wasn't something Sal had time to do.
He guessed that he would be able to look into it later on when Voldemort had been vanquished for the first time. It wasn't ideal but at the moment keeping as much people alive as he could was priority - especially since his own Resistance was a lot more effective, even if also a lot more secretive than the Order of the Phoenix of Albus Dumbledore.
Speaking of the Order…
"Dumbledore is actively recruiting from the seventh year students," Fabian Prewett said. "As far as I know, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin have been approached by him. He wants them to join the Barking Burned Birds." Or in other words, the Order of the Phoenix. Oddly enough, since the twins joined them the original name of the Order seemed to have been forgotten by the members of the Resistance. Fabian's twin Gideon nodded. They both would die three years later in an Order mission gone wrong. But it was thanks to them that baby Susan Bones would survive the war.
Sal sighed inwardly.
Of course he knew that the Marauders would join the Order, but he hated to think that Dumbledore had started to approach James Potter in times like this. It was no wonder the younger Potter had joined the Order of the Phoenix just after losing his parents in the end. It was an effective and cruel move - especially if the Headmaster would use James' future grief to lure the boy in the rest of the way…
"Keep an eye on that," he said, before turning to Marius. "We also need a new way to smuggle people from Aberdeen. We lost our usual route there."
Marius nodded.
"I'll go there and have a look," he said. He was the one who could go incognito the best since he didn't leave any magical traces that could be tracked. He would die just a year later while rescuing some children from Death Eaters. He went with a bang, leaving behind three dead Death Eaters and a giant hole in the streets.
"We still need a way to track down Tom Riddle," Arcturus reminded him in that moment. "That damn man is hard to find as it is. If this whole war is going awry we can't afford to lose him because we would never find him again until he returned with another army."
Sal nodded at that thoughtfully.
"I've got something we can use," he said slowly. "It will be useless the moment he loses his body since it needs a living brain to work with but the moment he regains the body, it would be back in place and we could track him again."
"So, as long as he doesn't survive losing his body we should be able to find him everywhere on the world?" Arcturus asked interested.
"We should," Sal answered.
"What kind of spell are you thinking about?" Alphart asked interested.
"A runic spell," Sal answered. "It would connect my mind with his. It wouldn't be enough for me to truly enter his mind as long as one of us isn't influenced by strong emotions, so -"
"Could he enter your mind through it?" Arcturus intercepted concerned.
"Not if I solely connect our surface thought," Sal answered. "I might share dreams with him and get a strong image from time to time, but that's it."
"What's the catch?" Ted Tonks asked troubled.
Sal looked at the others darkly.
"I will have to meet him in person to apply the spell. And since he mustn't know about you, I will have to do it alone."
At that, the others frowned.
"That's dangerous," Andromeda finally said. "Really, really dangerous."
Sal nodded.
"It is," he said. "I guess I will have to plan it carefully."
Of course, planning it carefully would take not just a month or two. In the end, the elder Potters would be lost as well before the plan could actually put into action…
"Sirius!"
Silence and the noise of breaking items.
"Sirius!"
"What do you want, Grandfather?"
"Sirius, I know you're grieving - but you're not the only one -"
"Of course not, Grandfather! James is grieving as well, after all!" Sirius growled and threw another cutting curse at one of his grandfather's vases.
"Sirius…" there was no reprimand in his grandfather Arcturus' voice, only tiredness. "I know how it is to lose somebody as well. Dorea -"
"As if you truly understand! This has nothing to do with the Blacks after all!" Sirius growled. "And you can't tell me you ever grieved for somebody who wasn't a damn Black!"
"I had a friend in the Grindelwald war. I jumped into a curse to shield me and Pol -"
" I don't care about a damn member of Grindelwald's army! " Sirius screamed. "Leave! Just leave! I don't want you here! If the only other place I could go wouldn't be Potter manor, I wouldn't even be here!"
"Sirius, Allaric wasn't Grindelwald's man. I'm not -"
"I DON'T CARE!"
"But I care!" Arcturus thundered back. "I loved Dorea, too!"
"This has nothing to do with the Blacks!" Sirius screamed back. "Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were better than any Black could ever be!"
"Euphemia was D -"
Sirius just stomped past his grandfather and left the room, throwing the door close after him.
"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!" was the last thing Arcturus heard before he was left alone with a destroyed room.
He sighed.
Obviously, his grandson wasn't yet willing to listen to the things Arcturus had to say - to the secrets that had been kept from him all his life until now…
Losing the Potters was the worst thing that could have happened for Sal.
"Pater," the vampire kneeled down next to Sal who had curled up in a corner, the tears still on his cheeks. When he had gotten the message that the elder Potters had been attacked by Death Eaters in their own home and hadn't survived, he had fled in one of the empty rooms before actually letting go of his emotions.
Of course his son would understand what losing someone would mean to Sal and had followed him even if Sal would have loved to be alone right now.
"Ana," he said, before reaching up to his face to wipe away the tears.
He was surprised when the vampire actually leaned forward and buried his face in Sal's shoulder like he had done when he was a small child.
"I liked them, Pater," he confessed. "I can't believe they're gone."
"I can't actually believe it as well," Sal agreed, his voice tired.
For a moment, there was silence between them, then Sal took a deep breath and spoke up again.
"You know," he said. "They were your great-grandparents."
That actually froze the vampire in his arms.
"What?"
Sal laughed watery.
"I had no idea when I met them," he told his son. "They were just those two children of people I was friends with. I had no idea that they would turn out to be my own grandparents in the end. Merlin! I still can't believe that my own parents are out there somewhere, most likely already fighting the current Dark Lord at Dumbledore's side. It's just… so odd to think about it and I'm not sure how I will react if I ever meet them out there."
"You mean you will actually start crying when you meet them?" Ana asked, but kept his face buried in his father's shoulder.
"No," Sal answered, happy to be distracted even if he wasn't sure if the distraction wasn't as hard to think about as the fact that Charlus and Dorea were dead. "I mostly fear that I see them and will feel nothing. I know that theoretically they are my parents, but practically, well, I never met them and they never raised me. I'm grown now, so I don't need them as well. I don't… I don't know how I feel about the idea of meeting them now when I don't need them anymore."
"Well, if you need me, Pater, you know I will always be there," Anastasius declared and curled further up in his father's lap.
"You are aware that I'm the father and you're the son," he pointed out to his son.
"Nevertheless, I will always be there if you need me," was his son's stubborn reply. "I might be your son, but we're still family so I have a right to look out for you, too."
"You are, and I guess you have the right," Sal agreed, feeling a bit amused and a lot less grieving and bone tired.
He closed his arms tighter around his son.
"Thank you, Ana, for being there," he told Ana warmly. "I'm not sure what I would do without you."
And that was the truth - even if it wasn't his son who pulled him out of his grief and need for revenge in the end, but rather somebody else.
(1995)
Harry could help but think that this loss had been the most terrible loss he had experienced in the whole first war with Voldemort - and maybe, just maybe, he would have fallen into depression or worse after losing Fleamont Charlus and Dorea Euphemia Potter to death.
In the end, the rescue of his sanity came from an unexpected source.
Or maybe, it was an expected source that Harry simply hadn't considered; but then, that wasn't surprising considering that he had never even thought about the fact that he would one day actually meet Sirius Black and Lily and James Potter on the battle field…
"You look thoughtful," Regulus pointed out, frowning. "What were you thinking about just now?"
"The war," Harry replied truthfully. "The beginning of the war, the death of the Potters and the only reason why I might still be standing here."
"My brother," Regulus said, not even guessing.
"He's definitely not innocent in that," Harry agreed.
But then, Harry had never expected for Sirius to come into his life so… suddenly.
In that moment they could hear Sirius in the basement.
"I guess it's time that I go and get him," Regulus said amused. "It's high time, after all, that you two meet again, don't you think so, too, Sal?"
Harry's lips twitched.
"Definitely," he agreed amused. "Let's go and get my Dogfather, will you?"