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False Ties (Prequel to: Family Ties)	By : JunjouSlashGirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 4583 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 4: The Escapee
(Rhian age 9)
"Lord and Lady wish to speak to the young Master."
Looking up from the scroll he had been reading, he nodded as a sign that he had understood. "Tell mother and father that I will be there shortly," he told his family's house elf. The little creature disappeared with a bow, leaving him to roll the scroll up neatly, before standing up and placing it into its velvet container. The scroll was a relic from the Ancient Egyptians, far too priceless to let it lay around unprotected for even a minute. It was a fascinating text and he was looking forward to continue studying it, however, it would have to wait until he had spoken to his parents.
Leaving his chambers he walked down one of the long hallways of Serpents' Court, his family's Manor Not many people knew where the great Manor was located, and he loved the peace and quiet it offered. Most people in fact believed that they lived at the school his father had co-founded; however, while Salazar loved Hogwarts, he did not love it quite that much. Besides, the castle could not compete with the oriental beauty of Serpents' Court.
With rich green, blue and silver mosaics ornate marble walls and floors, and small fountains and ponds, made for a calm atmosphere. His father himself had designed the Manor as a piece of home in this foreign country. However, Marvolo knew that he did not miss his home country nearly as much as this statement may have suggested, after all, he had found his soulmate here in Albion.
Descending the grand staircase, he turned left and walked down the second floor until he had reached his father's private office, wondering what could be important enough for his parents to call him down so late in the evening.
He knocked twice and waited for admittance, before entering the familiar room. The first thing he noticed was that the light was dimmed and his mother, beautiful as ever, sat reclined on the settee in the far left corner, his father next to her.
Strong and powerful as he was, at the moment Salazar seemed worried. It was not the first time he had witnessed such a scene, after all, his mother Morgain Lefay was well known for her powerful third eye, and not every vision she received was a positive one.
"Mother, father, you called for me?" he greeted them with a slight bow and sat down in the free armchair across the settee. His eyes flickered back and forth between his parents, trying to determine how bad or life-changing the news he would receive would be, however, their faces were unreadable.
Then his mother stretched out one of her slender hands. A sphere of blue light appeared hovering over her palm and a moment later her voice began to flood out of it, strangely deep and distorted sounding:
The time of darkness draws near
For there is one who perverts Magic without fear.
Magic is balance and magic heeds rules
For those who pervert are truly only fools.
When magic is weakened there is still hope,
For the Serpent Lord's son with Magic's ritual will invoke.
Beware hardship with his son will come,
But without it, hope for all is none.
Together they will put to right what was wrong,
The fool had perverted history for too long.
With false face he presents to the world,
His lies will be unraveled for all time unfurled.
"Marvolo, do you remember you lesson on the 'Magica in Corpus Invocare-Ritual'?" his father asked.
Marvolo's eyes widened. Of course he remembered that specific lesson. The ritual was legendary; more tempting than a Philosopher's Stone, and more dangerous at the same time. No real wizard or witch had not heard about it.
"It appears, one day you shall be the one to invoke it."
Rhian awoke with a gasp. Keeping his eyes closed, he started thinking. What kind of crazy dream had that been? And that kid, it had looked a lot like Marvolo. But no, that could not be true. His mind had to be playing another prank on him. The way they had been talking, their clothes, it all had seemed like something from at least a few centuries ago, like right out of the middle ages.
And then there had been their looks. Salazar Slytherin and Morgain Lefay; they had looked unlike any human he had ever seen. There had been something 'Dark' about Slytherin, something dangerous and predator like, while the woman had been beautiful like a dark fey. Unnaturally even.
No, this truly could not have been anything other than his fantasy going out of control.
Rhian's eyes shot open, something was tickling his cheek. Still half asleep, he lifted his hand to chase whatever it was away, only to encounter a slender, scaled body. Orsana hissed, affronted, and he quickly mumbled out an apology. After all, he had noticed in the 24 hours he had spent with her, that she was a vain creature. Marvolo had only smirked at his remark and told him that all snakes, regardless of their size and actual looks, strength or intelligent, where rather self important.
"G'morning Orsana, how was your night?" he greeted his familiar, still a bit sleepy.
"It was good, thank you Master." she replied and coiled up on his chest.
"So, why have you woken me up so early? You know, I could have slept in for once." he asked, even though he was not truly annoyed, or at least not because of her. He already had slept longer than usual, but what dragged his mood down, was the lunch he would have to attend with Ginevra, her family and Dumbledore.
"I am hungry. Can I eat one of those filthy, unworthy muggles?" his familiar hissed, her head cocked slightly.
Chuckling, Rhian sat up. "I wish you could, but Dumbledore would get suspicious, and besides, I would have to unshrink you and you wouldn't fit into my relative's house. But I could open a window for you and you could go hunt some mice or rabbits," he proposed.
Orsana huffed, but nodded and slid off his chest and down the bed before making her way over to the nearest window.
Standing up, Rhian followed her and let her go outside, before turning to the seating area where, as usual, a breakfast worthy of a king was waiting for him as well as Marvolo.
"Good morning," he greeted the Diary, who was once again engrossed in a book, but placed it to the side and made room for him so that he could join the man on the couch and snuggle up to him. It had become a daily routine that they started their day like this, and he was hoping that the bedtime story from the previous evening would also become such a routine.
However, this morning as he snuggled closer, he noticed that his mentor was feeling even colder than usual, and frowned.
"Are you not feeling well?" he asked out loud, while his mind helpfully provided the information that a magical artifact could hardly feel unwell, regardless of how human it may seem.
Marvolo looked up frowned as well and answered: "Indeed, I do not feel as powerful as usual. When was the last time you poured some of your magic into the Diary?"
Thinking about it, Rhian replied: "Only two days ago. Do you need more?" he added and before the memory could answer, he stretched his hand out and let some of his magic flow into the enchantment.
"That will be sufficient," Marvolo stopped him after a few seconds.
"So, what are we going to do until I have to go to that stupid luncheon?" Rhian asked through a mouth full of warm waffles with whipped cream and strawberry sauce.
"Swallow first, and then ask. The Heirs of Noble Houses should not behave like pigs during a feeding," Marvolo sneered, but proceeded to answer: "I have nothing particular planned for this morning; however, I believe you still have to try out your new toys.
A happy smile split his face nearly in two and he nodded eagerly, but then he faltered and asked: "But what will you be doing while I am playing?"
Marvolo lift his left eyebrow in that special manner that Rhian had learned by now meant that the man found his question especially stupid and blushed. Ducking his head between his shoulders, he mumbled: "Right, you entertain yourself every day when I am at Hogwarts…"
"Indeed," Marvolo replied. "However, depending on what you decide to do, I might join you and tell you another story."
The smile returned to his face, and Rhian rushed to finish his breakfast. Soon he stood in front of his three new shelves, looking at the items neatly stored there. He really wanted to hear another story, so he decided that he would pick something that could easily be done while listening. He ignored a strange card game with the name 'Exploding Snap' emblazoned on the box, and also the magical chess board, where the figures seemed to rage a war against each other, because Marvolo would certainly not be able to teach him chess and tell him a story at the same time. The other game just sounded loud, with the word 'Exploding' in the title. He also skipped over a few other toys he did not recognize, until his eyes fell onto a set of colorful pencils and a stack of thick, white paper. His eyes lit up; he had only been allowed to draw a couple of times in his life (when he had tried to draw those strange two dreams about the green light and the gigantic, flying motorcycle) which now hung above his bed since Malik's redecoration.
Pulling the box with the pencils out, he looked at the bright package and read: Bring your pictures to life with Professor Sparkly's Magical Pencils. It still felt amazing to be able to read, although in this case, he was not quite sure how the pencils were supposed to work, not after he had read in one book how complicated the charms for moving portraits and pictures were supposed to be.
However, he wouldn't mind if his drawings couldn't move in the end, he was just happy to be drawing again, and even more so for having found something during which he could easily listen to Marvolo.
Picking a few sheets of paper up as well, he walked back to the coffee table, which had been cleared of all breakfast items by now, put his utensils down and sat down in front of Marvolo, leaning against his leg. Sitting like this, supported by the strong man, he wished that Marvolo could be more than just a teacher. He would be the happiest child on earth if he had a father like the Diary, he didn't even mind that the Diary was a part of the Dark Lord in some way; he couldn't really believe that Voldemort was really evil either.
But Marvolo wasn't his dad, and if the memory was right, he didn't even have a dad right now, not even a dead one. Pushing the sad thought to the side, he told the wizard: "I have decided on drawing so that I can listen to your story."
Marvolo ruffled his hair and then asked in return: "What story would you like to hear? The story of 'The Little Teapot' or of 'The Three Brothers'?"
Looking at his pencil set, he suddenly heard a strangely echoing voice say: "There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight ..."
Blinking in confusion, he looked up and over at his mentor, only to realize that Marvolo was still looking at him expectantly and had clearly not said anything. Shaking his head to get rid of that strange feeling of déjà vu that had overcome him, he answered as if in trance:
"The Three Brothers."
"Very well," Marvolo replied, and to Rhian's shock the first sentence that left the Diary's lips after he had opened the right page was: "There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight ..."
Gulping, Rhian pulled a pencil out in an attempt to calm his racing heartbeat down. What was happening? He surely couldn't be a seer? No, that gift manifested in a very early childhood, and he was past that stage. But what was happening then?
"I hope you are at least listening," Marvolo's sharp voice pulled him back to the present and he quickly forced his thoughts away from whatever that just now had been, and back to the white piece of paper in front of him.
He wanted to draw a picture of himself, Orsana, Jörmy and Marvolo, so that he would always be able to see them. Looking at the pencil, he once again wondered how that "bringing to life" was supposed to work, but then it hit him. How could he have been so stupid? They were magical pencils, so he was probably supposed to let his magic flow through the device into the color-in process. So while Marvolo started his tale in his deep, calming voice, Rhian started to draw his 'family picture'. He did not see Marvolo's raised eyebrows as the man leaned over him to get a look at his work an hour later, neither did he see how the expression changed into something warm.
Far too quickly Marvolo called their time together to an end and told Rhian that he had to change into his cast-offs and floo over to Dumbledore's office.
He couldn't suppress the sneer as he once again pulled a far too large, washed out t-shirt over his head and slipped into worn summer trunks that should only reach to his knees but actually brushed the ground a little.
"It is disgusting that your 'cousin' fits into these trousers," Marvolo sneered and gave the garment a look as if he wanted to set it on fire, which Rhian could only support. Unfortunately, it would make Dumbledore suspicious, so he just nodded, waved at the wizard and slipped out of his room.
His aunt just came out of the kitchen, her arms laden with a huge tray filled of cool drinks and ice-cream for her family. "Don't be back too late, boy, or there will be no dinner for you!" she snapped at him, but thanks to the help of Marvolo and Malik, he had learned to ignore those commands. After all, they could not hurt him any longer.
A minute later he stumbled out of Dumbledore's hearth and looked around for the wizard. However, the old fool was nowhere in sight, instead, the air was filled by a strange coldness that seemed to pierce through to his bones. Frowning, he walked over to the window to look outside, and check if it was snowing instead of burning hot outside. At first glance he could see nothing strange. The sun stood high in the clear, blue sky and no cloud was too be seen.
But then he saw it; in the distance near the looming forest of Hogwarts, he saw strange black shapes. He would have thought them to be shadows, but they clearly moved. In fact, they seemed to turn to him and move closer, as if sensing him. A particularly huge shadow was gliding to the front of the line, and even though Rhian could not see its face, he felt as if their eyes met over the distance. A feeling of recognition flared inside of him and the coldness subsided. For a long moment he stared at the creature in a trance-like state until the sound of a door snapped him out of his trance.
"Good day my boy," Dumbledore greeted him. "I see you have already noticed the addition to our grounds."
"What are they?" he asked, even though he doubted that he would get a useful answer from the old fool. However, this time the Headmaster answered without hesitation:
"They are Dementors. Usually they guard Azkaban, the wizarding prison, however one of the most dangerous followers of Voldemort has escaped and they were sent here to keep the students safe."
Turning to look outside again, Rhian found the tallest of the Dementors still watching him, if that was even possible with the wide grass field stretched out between them.
"They are frightening creatures, are the not?" Dumbledore asked in a conversational tone of voice. "They live off of people's good memories, leaving nothing more than sadness and despair behind."
He hummed non-committedly; to him they didn't seem all that frightening.
"Now, my boy, we have to leave, or Mrs. Weasley will be quite upset if we miss her excellent roast," Dumbledore said commandingly, and Rhian forced his eyes away from the forest. He wanted to sneer as the old wizard waved him over to step into the hearth beside him, but quickly suppressed the urge as well as the shiver of disgust that rose inside of him as the old man placed a wrinkled hand onto his shoulder. He hated the Headmaster's aura and he wasn't sure about this visit either. Truth to be told, he was suspicious about the family. Firstly, because they were acquaintances of the old fool and secondly, because he already didn't like their daughter, despite not really having much contact with her so far. But the impression he had gotten from her aura had already been enough, at least, in his opinion. On the other hand, he hated judging people too quickly, it had happened to him far too often.
"The Burrow," Dumbledore said and they were whisk away, only to be spat out in a kitchen that looked utterly cluttered a second later. With a guarded expression, his eyes scanned a huge kitchen table where eight miss-matched chairs had been placed around it. There was a strange, magical clock hanging on one wall, with things like 'time for tea', written on it instead of the hour. The appliances looked as if they had been modern a few centuries ago. There was a certain, homey feeling in the air, but while he had clearly landed in a wizarding home, it was certainly not one of those elegant manors Marvolo had mentioned, even though Dumbledore had told him that the Weasley's were Purebloods.
"Albus!" The voice of a woman could be heard, and in the next moment a plump, red haired witch with a bright smile bustled in.
"So good to see you," she said "and you too, Harry dear."
He had no time to flee as she pulled him into a suffocating hug, and it took all of his strength to not push the Light Witch away.
"Hello, Molly," Dumbledore greeted her, and she finally let go of him. "I hope you and your family are doing well?"
"Of course, Albus, of course. It took a few days but our nerves finally calmed down again. But we should go outside; I have set the table there. It is a beautiful day and we will have much more space in the garden than in our small kitchen." She led the way to a backdoor that stood slightly ajar, and from which Rhian could hear the voices of more people wafting in. Sighing inwardly, he followed the two adults and stepped into a garden that in his opinion didn't deserve the title.
A large meadow stretched out for miles in front of him. Here and there he could see some fruit trees, but there were no flower beds, no neatly laid paths, ponds, benches or anything else that usually made a garden into a garden. On a huge, bare field stood a large table, loaded with all kinds of dishes, but that was it. His aunt certainly would have had a fit if she ever had to set food into a garden like this.
His eyes wandered further, over to the group of redheads that stood next to the table; he couldn't actually believe how many there were. Counting heads, he came to a total of six boys plus the daughter and the father, and for a moment he felt slightly overwhelmed by the large group of Light Witches and Wizards.
Suddenly, two identical heads turned as if they had sensed him looking. They elbowed their father, who turned as well, waved at him with a friendly smile, and then motioned for his children to take a seat, before coming over.
"Welcome to 'The Burrow', Harry," he greeted in a friendly voice. "My name is Arthur and I am the father of this lot over here. Let me introduce you to them," the wizard added and led him over to the table. All eyes focused on him as he came to a halt in front of them. Ginevra was blushing furiously and giggling, but he merely ignored her as usual.
"Now, you know my daughter Ginny already who is eight," Arthur said and gestured to the giggling girl. "The boy to her right is our oldest, Bill. He finished Hogwarts last year and is now apprenticing as a Curse Breaker. The one next to him is Charlie, who is in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Then we have Percy, thirteen; Fred and George will start their first year after the summer and finally Ronald, who is the same age as you.
To his horror he was pushed over to an empty chair between Ginevra and Ronald. Knowing that he could not protest, he obediently made his way over and sat down. Ginevra instantly scooted closer with her chair, but fortunately, before she could say anything, Arthur spoke up again:
"I think I speak for all of us, when I say thank you for saving Ginny. Harry, you saved our daughter and our sons' only sister, and therefore we will forever be in your debt."
Rhian was about to wave him off, wanting no forever lasting ties to this family, when Molly stood up as well and cleared her throat.
"Harry my dear, when Ginny went missing and Albus' owl arrived; we were scared that we wouldn't ever see our beloved daughter again. We feel that a thank-you is far too little… you have lost so much in your young life already, and just like you have given us a part of our family back, we have decided to return the favor. Therefore, Dumbledore and I agreed on a marriage contract between you and Ginny, making you not only our beloved daughter's future husband, but also our honorable seventh son!"
Rhian paled. A marriage contract? Was that even legal? He was a minor after all and couldn't sign a contract yet. Panicked, he looked around, but seeing the old fool's sly smile, horror rose inside of him. His mind started to work at a hundred miles a second; he needed to find a way out of this crazy new scheme of the Headmaster, but all his brain came up with was Marvolo's comment that most traditional wizarding contracts were binding and unbreakable.
He didn't want to marry Ginevra; that would be like a nightmare come true. He couldn't stand the girl, her 'Light' aura made his skin crawl, her voice grated on his nerves, and he felt far too young to think about a thing like marriage. Truth to be told, just the thought of marrying Ginevra, having to be close to her and spend more time with her felt so wrong.
The girl didn't even know him. Her blatant hero-worship made him feel sick; he wasn't the knight in shining armor she imagined him to be. Honestly, hadn't the fact that he had never shown up to visit her in the Hospital wing, been hint enough?
And besides, he was just building up a life he had always dreamed about, he was learning magic and History and all the other important things Dumbledore would never teach him; he certainly wouldn't risk it by marrying into a family that was so close to the old coot.
Did Molly even care about him, or did she only plan to use him like the Headmaster already was? He got enough of that treatment from the Dursley's and Dumbledore, hell he wouldn't allow a third party to exploit him! Sure, the Weasley's didn't seem the type who would make him work like a House Elf, but instead he would probably be penniless within a year; it wasn't hard to guess that the family had some financial issues after all.
Angry, he grabbed the nearest thing, a fork, to keep himself in check.
"Wow, cool! The Boy-Who-Lived will be my brother!" he heard Ronald's voice exclaim in the background, but he was too furious and desperate to react. However, one voice finally managed to pull his attention back to the conversation:
"Oi Forge?" one of the twins exclaimed and he sounded so affronted and baffled, that Rhian looked up.
"Yes Gred?" the other answered.
"Has someone even asked our dear Savior if he even wants our pesky-nasty little sister?"
Glancing around he finally noticed that not every Weasley looked as delighted at the prospect of marrying him to their daughter as Molly and Ronald had done; in fact those two were the only two out of the bunch of redheads.
Charlie looked confused and Bill, Percy and Arthur were clearly frowning.
"Molly Wobbles," the Weasley-head finally spoke up. "The twins have a point. Harry and Ginny are far too young; we cannot say if they will fall in love one day, and I don't condone marriage contracts, you know that. It is an overflow relic of the past, used only by Purebloods who cannot accept that the world has moved on. Besides, I wish for my children to find true love, just as I had the fortune of doing."
"But dad, I love Harry!" Ginevra interjected, but Arthur looked ready to ignore her for the time being, however, Molly took on the defense of her daughter and her plan:
"I know, dear, but I believe that Ginny and Harry are perfect for each other and so does Dumbledore. Can't you see how perfect it is? They will unite the two most powerful and influential 'Light' families of Britain; it will not only make them happy, but also be a huge asset to the war."
Dumbledore nodded along and Arthur sighed. "Ginny, are you sure in a few years, or even thirty or fifty years time, you will still feel the same about Harry? Don't rush your decision; I'm not saying that you cannot marry him later on… even without a contract it would still be possible."
"I can!" Ginevra replied stubbornly, crossing her arms. "Harry has saved me and I love him; and what better way to prove my love than an unbreakable contract?"
Her father nodded, clearly still not happy with his daughter's words, and to Rhian's surprise, turned to him: "Do you feel the same, Harry, I will not force you into anything you do not truly want."
Relieved, he opened his mouth, but before he could say a word he felt a wave of strong, 'Light' magic wafting over Arthur, and brushing over him. Dumbledore spoke: "Of course he feels the same Arthur, or do you think I would allow such a serious commitment otherwise? Harry in fact searched me out the day after he rescued Ginny and asked me to help secure their future together and that is why I proposed a traditional contract to your wife."
Arthur seemed to calm down instantly and nodded. Rhian just knew that the old fool had worked some kind of magic, compulsion, most likely.
"Well then," the oldest redhead said, clapping his hands together excitedly. "Let us not waste any more time to sign the contract, so that we can celebrate this joyous event with Molly's excellent cooking!"
He paled again and sprung to his feet, he would fight tooth and nail before he would allow Dumbledore to tie him eternally to that annoying girl and her family of blind, weak minded fools. However, a spell hit him and he found himself unable to utter a single word.
Furious, he watched as Dumbledore waved his wand in a complicated pattern, conjuring a long scroll seemingly out of nowhere, a twinkle in his eyes, before pulling a golden quill from his robe and handing it to Arthur.
"I have already signed, my boy," the old wizard told Arthur, who nodded and bent forward to sign the contract.
Instinctively, Rhian drew his magic more tightly around himself, trying to form it into an impenetrable barrier. Arthur's hand moved, magic flared from the contract and then exploded outwards. He could practically see how it hit Ginevra, so powerful was the ancient binding, before shooting towards him. Closing his eyes, he braced himself. The magic hit, and to his shocked relief he could feel his barriers holding. They trembled slightly, but continued to fight the spell off and a moment later it seemed to slide off of them, like rain from a glass window. Relieved, he let out a breath he had not been aware of holding and slumped back in his chair.
Ginevra squealed and began to jump up and down happily, but this time, it did not annoy him, instead, it only made him smirk inwardly. They had not succeeded, and next it would be his move. He would make sure that the girl would regret her selfish attempted, and Marvolo would certainly assist him.
Arthur and Molly came over to hug their daughter and congratulate her for finding love so early and securing such a good match, but he barely noticed them, his mind still being occupied with thoughts of revenge.
Finally the buzzing calmed down and Molly waved at the many bowls and plates that had been kept warm by a charm. Harry could feel it, and he actually shuddered at the thought of eating something that had been touched by the woman's magic. But knowing that Dumbledore was watching him, he put a little of everything onto his plate ad tried a little. It tasted as appalling as he had imagined. That was about the only reason why he was almost glad to hear Ginevra speak again:
"I cannot wait until we get to Hogwarts and can see each other every day! It will be so romantic; almost as if we were living together already… my friends will be so jealous."
"And you can join the Quidditch team for Gryffindor!" Ron piped in. "Mum told me that your dad was really talented; I bet you have inherited his skills. Slytherin won the house cup for far too many years already, but we will kick their…"
"Ronald Weasley!" his mother chided and Rhian was relieved when the redhead blushed, ducked his head and turned back to his plate.
ΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθ
"Mum, can we get up now?" Ronald asked a while later, clearly eager to leave the table and the adult's conversation.
"Sure my dear, why don't you show Harry the gnome-throwing game?"
Rhian's raised his eyebrows. Gnome-throwing game? What kind of poor-people's game was that supposed to be? He was quite sure if it was a common sport in the wizarding world, Marvolo would have told him; he had taught him the rules of Quidditch and Wizarding Chess after all.
Suppressing a sneer of disgust, he rose to his feet and followed the group of children. Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins were still glancing at him sympathetically, or in Bill's case, with a mixture of a frown that was disrupted by a smirk now and then.
"Hey Gin, Ronnikins, make yourself useful and fetch some gloves, will you?" He suddenly asked, and Rhian watched as the oldest boy watched his baby brother and sister until they were out of earshot. He wasn't really surprised when suddenly five pairs of sky-blue eyes settled on him.
"The contract didn't work, did it?" Bill stated.
He examined the redhead for a minute, pondering how much he would entrust these boys with. They hadn't mentioned anything to their parents so far, in fact, Bill even seemed rather pleased, while looks of relief flashed over the other's faces at the statement, and something inside of him was telling him that he could trust at least these five Weasley's. Their aura's where not a blindingly white, but more of different shades of grey. Whatever the reason, they clearly were not as deep in the old fool's pocket as their parents and youngest siblings.
So he inclined his head in acknowledgement, but didn't give more away just yet.
"That's…" one of the twin's started, George, Rhian believed, his aura was the tiniest bit lighter than his brother's if he remembered correctly.
"...some crazy luck you had there, mate." the other finished.
Feeling still slightly suspicious, Rhian narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms and asked: "Why are you not telling your parents? Will you sister not be sad and angry when she finds out?"
The siblings shared a look that seemed to cover an entire conversation, finally Charlie said: "You clearly don't love Ginny, so it's wrong," shrugging.
"It is also illegal to use compulsions to set up such an agreement," Percy added with a sneer, before the twins interrupted him.
"And honestly? Who would want to marry our dear little baby sister?"
His eyebrows shot even higher, but Charlie just shrugged once again and said:
"She has a nasty temper, even worse than mom."
Their short exchange came to an end when they heard the footsteps of Ginevra and Ronald returning. Ginevra instantly stepped up to Rhian, who barely managed to not step back in disgust.
"I got you our best pair of gloves," she said, took one of his hands and gave him what probably was meant to be a sweet smile, before pulling one glove over it.
The leather was already worn in some places, but a single look at the pairs her brother gave out, told him that she had been right; this was clearly the newest one.
The sneer threatened to return onto his face, but he frowned at himself. No, it wasn't the glove he wanted to sneer at, he wasn't rich either and used to far more worn down things... no, it was everything else that appalled him. So he quickly took the other glove from the girl, turned around and addressed her older brothers again: "So, what are the rules for the gnome-throwing?" He could feel Ginevra pout behind her, but before she could say anything, her stupid older brother spoke up:
"It's quite easy. We have many gnomes hiding in our bushes, so just grab one and then throw it over the fence as far as possible."
So, we are basically cleaning the garden? He thought to himself, but outwardly he only nodded. He couldn't actually believe the nerve of Mrs. Weasley; he should be a guest in her home, not do the dirty work.
However, when he saw the ashamed faces of the other Weasley children, he gave them a small, reassuring smile; they weren't at fault here.
The game turned out to be more fun than he had actually expected, but it still bugged him. Charlie clearly was the fittest out of all of them, but the brothers had fun nonetheless, even the book-wormish looking Percy, and it was kind of infectious. He, being the smallest out of all of them with the exception of his "betrothed", still managed quite a good third place after the oldest two; apparently Moody's horrible exercises had been good for something after all. The afternoon would have been even more fun, if Ginevra had not tried to cling to him whenever it was not his turn, and Ronald had stopped babbling about how they would be the most popular boys in school once they had started there. Even more important than "Malfoy that stupid git".
At that, Rhian wanted to snort. There was no way Ronald Weasley would be more popular than the well educated and poised blonde.
He didn't know how many hours had passed when Mrs. Weasley's magically enhanced voice called them and they made their trek back to the house. He was glad that he would soon return to Marvolo again, despite the fact that not all of the redheads had turned out as horrible as he had expected. However, just as he walked past a small, crooked shack, his name was called.
"Harry!"
Stopping, he looked around, recognizing Arthur's voice, but not quite sure where it was coming from.
"I am in here," the oldest Weasley said and he finally saw him peeking out of the hut and motioning for him to join.
He wondered if the wizard had noticed Dumbledore's compulsion after all, but then dismissed the idea. He could sense Arthur's aura and it wasn't quite powerful enough to be able to fight the old coot's magic off, especially not after it had settled.
Still, he stepped inside, curious as to what Arthur could want from him.
"Harry my boy," the man started and Rhian wanted to scowl at the word "boy"; he was truly starting to hate it.
"What is it, Mr. Weasley? Can I help you somehow?"
Arthur chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, clearly unsure about something, but he made his mind up rather quickly, closed the door behind him and began:
"Harry, there is something I think you need to know. Albus doesn't want you to know, he says you already have enough to deal with and I'm sure he is right… but…"
He broke off again and Rhian, sensing that the man needed a little push, quickly promised: "I won't tell anybody what you told me, I promise."
Arthur sighed in relief; it was strange how much some adults wanted to have their conscious soothed by a mere child.
"Have you heard about the criminal that broke out of Azkaban?" Mr. Weasley finally continued, his voice barely more than a hushed whisper.
Now Rhian was getting even more curious, was Dumbledore hiding something from him again? But then again, when didn't the old coot do that?
"... Dumbledore told me about that. But what does that have to do with me?" he asked innocently, even though he could think of a couple of reasons why the escapee could come to concern him; for example, if the old fool thought it a good exercise to send him after the wizard.
"The thing is," Arthur continued, clearly getting more and more nervous with every word he spoke. "The wizard who escaped, Sirius Black, he was… is… one of You-Know-Who's most loyal followers! He…" the wizard broke off and rubbed his face "Oh Harry, I am not the right person to tell you this… such a tragedy it was…"
"Arthur," Rhian interrupted him before he could change his mind and gently placed a hand on the man's forearm. "I am used to horrible, tragic stories... how could it be any different with what Voldemort did to my parents?"
Inwardly he congratulated himself, Marvolo would be so proud if he could see him right now. However, his thoughts came to an abrupt halt when two, by now very familiar, voices suddenly joined their conversation: "Yeah, dad. Harry is right. Just tell him. His has a right to know!"
He couldn't believe that he hadn't heard them enter. He would need to work on his observation skills.
Mr. Weasley gave him a sad smile, but then nodded. "Sirius Black was one of the best friends of your father… he was your godfather and he… he was the one who betrayed you and your family to the Dark Lord."
Rhian's eyes widened and he gasped in surprise. How could Dumbledore not tell him something so important? If that wizard was truly after him… but "if" was probably the crux of the matter here. However, his relationship with the Dark Lord could only be described as complicated at the best; with some part of the wizard being his mentor, but even those two had not interacted with each other for years.
Noticing that Mr. Weasley was giving him a worried look, he gave him a small smile and said: "I… don't know what to think about this… I…"
Arthur's expression softened further. "Just promise me that you will be careful. And now off you go, back to your family, I am sure they are missing you already."
The twins agreed with firm nods and he left the shack again. Dumbledore was already waiting for him, his usual twinkle in his eyes.
"Ah, there you are, my boy. Let's get you back home."
Nodding, he said his goodbyes to all the Weasley's. The older brothers all slapped him on the shoulder, but Ron asked: "Write me, mate?"
He quickly shook his head, he knew how post was delivered in their world and the Dursley's would pitch a fit if they saw an owl with a letter arrive at their house. Besides, he didn't want to exchange letters with that stupid oaf anyway. "Sorry, but I am living with my muggle relatives," he explained and Ronald who had looked insulted a moment before, brightened again and replied: "A pity, but I guess you will see us more often now anyway. I mean, with you practically being my brother-in-law."
Ginevra hugged him as he finally stepped up to her. While he knew avoiding her in the presence of Dumbledore would be stupid, he managed to duck away from the kiss she had tried to give him, and five minutes later he arrived back in his aunt and uncle's living room.
"There you are boy! The laundry is waiting for you in the cellar, get going!" His aunt greeted him as charming as ever, and the next few hours were spent with chores all over the house and garden.
When he finally returned to his room, Marvolo was already waiting for him. He snuggled into the side of the Diary, wishing that he could actually feel some warmth and life coming from the enchantment. But for the second time he found his mentor was colder than usual. Without asking this time, he pushed some of his magic into the artifact whilst at the same time trying to suppress the worry that was rising inside of him. Therefore he asked:
"How was your day at the 'Blood Traitors' house?"
"'Blood Traitors'?" Rhian repeated, having never heard that name before.
"Yes, people who have denounced magic by using weakened versions of spells and denying some parts of our gifted power entirely," the memory explained and then prompted him to recount his day.
"It actually wasn't as bad as I had feared," he smirked.
"Really?" Marvolo asked and he nodded, suddenly eager to share his successful blocking of Dumbledore's newest attempted to keep him under his thumb.
"Yeah, the old fool tried to force a binding betrothal contract upon me, but I gathered all my magic and it didn't work!"
Marvolo lifted his left eyebrow inquiringly, but he could only shrug. "I don't know what I did exactly… I just didn't want to be bound to her and I think my magic build a shield around me… you know, Ginevra is just as bad as we had imagined, even worse, I think. And oh!" he exclaimed throwing his arms up in a rare show of his young age "her brother, Ronald, is just as annoying! He calls me his 'brother-in-law' and has all these plans of me joining the Quidditch Team for Gryffindor, because my 'father' apparently was really good at the sport and of course I can be nothing other than a stupid lion myself. And then we will be the most popular duo in Hogwarts!" he sneered.
Marvolo chuckled and sat up straighter. "Is that all?"
Rhian shook his head. "Mr. Weasley took me to the side, just before we finally left."
"And what did that 'Blood Traitor' want from you?" the Diary sneered.
Shrugging, he said: "He wanted to warn me. But I don't think I have to worry about it."
"Oh?" was all the memory prompted.
"Apparently one of your followers broke out of Azkaban. Some Sirius Black. But you can just tell me how to avoid him, right?" he explained, but as he looked up, he saw a frown on his mentor's face.
"I am not in possession of my 'True Self's' complete memory, but I do know that Sirius Black was the wayward son of Orion and Walburga Black... He was sorted into Gryffindor and ran away from home to live with the Potters only a few years later. I am quite certain that he never became one of my followers. But you should still be careful. If he was sent to Azkaban for being a Death Eater, it is likely that he was being framed, and there is only one person influenceable enough to pull off something like that. Dumbledore will be after him, if I am correct."
Rhian made a face. "You think he will try to use me for this?"
"Probably, but planning something now will not help us as long as we do not know what exactly the old fool has in mind this time."
Knowing that it would be back to their usual routine, Rhian got up to get ready for bed.
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The following months were better and worse at the same time. Better, because Marvolo taught him even more complicated magic, magic that sent shivers of power through his body and finally gave him the reassurance that one day he would be able to break free from the manipulative old Headmaster. It was also better because he finally could do the things normal children his age did. They had quickly found out that he was rather talented in drawing and working with clay. That kind of reminded him of his one dream; the one where he was standing in an imaginary father's office, looking at pictures he had drawn himself. In those dreams he had been good at drawing as well.
He also enjoyed his daily story time with Marvolo. The Diary switched between telling him typical wizarding fairy tales and legends, but also stories about historical and social events which, despite being essentially lessons, didn't feel like it at all. He also continued to steadily read his way through Marvolo's library; they had exhausted the standard school textbooks weeks ago.
Without realizing it, Rhian soon had caught onto the standard of knowledge of a Pureblood Heir, and succeeded it.
However, those months had also been worse, because the trip to the Weasley's and his 'betrothed' had become an all too regular occasion. Mrs. Weasley invited him at least twice per month, more often, when her daughter became too annoying and insisting. Mostly he tried to keep to the oldest five Weasley brothers. However, one visit had been especially irritating as Ginevra had talked her parents into letting them have a proper date with 'alone time'.
She had clung to him like a leech, stroked his bare forearms as if possessed and batted her lashes in what had been meant to be a seductive gesture. He hadn't realized the goal of her strange behavior until Marvolo had explained it afterwards. However, as he had started to panic because of his clear lack of skill and observation, the Diary had only sneered and told him that it was totally normal at his age that he wouldn't recognize the gesture and that it was rather disturbing that the young Ms Weasley, being even a year younger than he himself, already knew and enforced such tactics.
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Another good thing that had grown slowly, was his friendship with Neville and Elijah. While Elijah was certainly nice enough to talk to and was not a bad friend, his overly excited and all too 'Light' nature sometimes grated on his nerves. He also was a clear 'Dumbledore's boy', so their friendship stayed rather platonic.
Neville's magic in contrast, seemed to slowly, but surely darken, despite the lessons the old fool put them through, and the many strong 'Light' spells they were forced to learn. Secretly, Rhian believed it was due to the boy's love for plants and Herbology, which was basically a part of the old elemental earth magic that caused the lessons to not bear fruits. The boy, as shy and uncertain as he still was, also seemed aware of Dumbledore's manipulations, thus becoming even more likable in Rhian's eyes.
Sadly, due to the fact that they were only alone on their way to Moody's lessons, they had no chance to deepen their friendship further, which, he believed was another goal of the old coot.
"... I really hope my uncle will find one of them on his holiday trip. The 'Mimbulus Mimbeltonia' is so fascinating! Its fluids smell rather nasty, but it can be used in many Healing Potions…" Neville was excitedly telling him. They were on their way back to Dumbledore's office after another exhausting and nerve-wrecking training session with Moody.
"You mean that grayish, smelly cactus?" Elijah piped in with a shudder as they stepped onto the spiraling staircase that let up to the Headmaster's office.
"It certainly won't win the 'Most Beautiful Pot Plant Award', but Neville's right. Its healing abilities are impressive," Rhian commented, making the blonde sigh.
"I don't know what's with you and Neville and your love for boring things like plants and books. I'd rather spent my day on a broom, playing a game of Quidditch or 'Catch the Snitch'."
Rhian suppressed a roll of his eyes. Elijah truly could call himself lucky that Dumbledore didn't make them sit in on written exams, or the boy would have a big problem. While most spells came quite easily to the strawberry blonde, he wasn't the type to actually sit down and learn, so whenever they came across a spell he couldn't do on the first to third try, he just hid behind him or Neville until they moved onto another subject.
"... Grandmother says my greenhouse is too full for another plant anyway..." Neville mumbled and Rhian frowned. He truly hated that Neville was so unsure of himself whenever someone said something negative about him or his passion for plants; he backtracked to meet the other's expectation.
"... don't say something like that, it's your dream to have one of those, so when one of your plant's die, just keep that space free, just in case your uncle Archie finds one after all," he reassured his friend.
"You think I should do that?" the chubby boy asked with wide eyes.
"Sure," he shrugged. "It's your passion. If someone would tell me there is this really rare book that can answer all your questions or something, but that I could only have it if I had a free space in my bookshelf, I certainly would make sure that there was some, just in case," he grinned at his friend, who gave him a small, but honest smile in return, only to start a list of apologies afterwards:
"I know most people find Herbology boring… and it's nothing you can easily share with friends…"
"Stop it, Nev," he quickly cut off. "I like plants as well, especially magical ones. The powers they hold…" he told his friend, remembering the time when he had been able to feel the magic in every living plant and being, before Dumbledore had bound his powers and he had lost most of his connections to the world surrounding him. It still hurt, but back then he hadn't really realized how much he actually sensed, or that he would lose that particular gift by agreeing to the old manipulator. But he still held that passion and maybe that was the reason why he enjoyed Potions books the most of all subjects. To see how different kinds of plants and ingredients work together, just like a group of friends with different skills who combine their abilities to reach a goal…
A small sigh left his lips and he quickly shook his head. They had reached Dumbledore's office door and he needed to clear his head or else the Headmaster would get suspicious about what was making him so happy.
Elijah knocked and they entered after Dumbledore had called them in. Once inside, they said their goodbyes, but before Rhian could even get close to the fireplace, Dumbledore addressed him: "Harry, would you please stay behind for a moment longer, my boy?"
Instantly, an uneasy feeling settled inside of him. It had been far too long since Dumbledore had sent him onto one of his little special training missions, and somehow he had the bad feeling that it was exactly what the old coot would want from him.
Neville threw him a worried look, but could do nothing more than wave at him and leave for his grandmother's manor, while Elijah, of course, was totally oblivious about the shift in atmosphere in the office. The blonde waved happily at him, before floo'ing away, leaving him completely alone with the manipulative Headmaster.
"Please take a seat," Dumbledore said and pointed at his usual chair. He sat down and waited for the old wizard to begin. However, the Headmaster was only examining him with a thoughtful expression. Rhian was about to asked if he could leave after all, when Dumbledore finally spoke:
"Harry, my boy, I fear I have to asked for your assistance in a delicate matter once more."
Sighing inwardly, he nodded complacently. Marvolo would be so annoyed if he got back even later because of another stupid mission. Unfortunately, he couldn't just refuse.
"Do you remember when I explained to you why we have Dementors on the school grounds this year?"
He nodded again, slowly getting an idea what mission exactly the Headmaster wanted to send him on, and for once, he started to look forward to his little exercise. He had been curious about the escapee ever since Arthur Weasley had mentioned him. His instincts were telling him that something was not adding up in that tale about Sirius Black's betrayal of his 'parents' and he wanted to find out what it was.
"Yesterday evening, Sirius Black tried to break into one of the common rooms, and something is telling me that he is still on the grounds," Dumbledore continued. "The Dementors have been unable to catch him so far and he is becoming more and more of a threat to the student body. We also have to consider that he will try to rejoin with his master at some point and that is something we cannot allow."
Again Rhian nodded, this time in faked passionate agreement.
"Unlike many of Voldemort's followers, Sirius Black was always an intelligent and talented wizard, the damage such a reunion could cause are unthinkable. I think he might even find a way to help his Master to finally return."
Scowling, Rhian suppressed a scoff. He didn't really believe that the Dark Lord's return would be such a bad and horrible thing, but he could hardly tell the old coot that. So instead, he cut Dumbledore's lengthy introduction short and asked: "Do you want me… to go after him?" He made sure to sound slightly nervous and hesitant; it wouldn't do for the wizard to pick up on his eagerness.
"That indeed," Dumbledore nodded with a grave expression he did not even buy for a second, "would be appreciated."
"Do you know where I can find him, sir?" he asked, wanting to get out of the office and finally solve the riddle that was the night of his 'parent's' death.
"When Mr. Black was a student, he and his friends often met in a secret hiding place under the grounds of Hogwarts. The entrance is hidden by the Whomping Willow, near the west border of the Great Lake. You should start your search there. I will also alert the Dementors; so that once you drive him out they can deal with him. I do not wish to burden your young heart with a murder just yet," Dumbledore said in a sympathetic tone of voice.
However, Rhian knew exactly why the Headmaster would want the Dementors to take over; their 'kiss' was said to be more horrible than death, as they sucked out their victim's soul and slowly devoured it. The progress had to be agonizing for the poor soul and a rebirth would become impossible for it. Dumbledore, he thought, truly had to hate the man, or was desperate to hide something; quite possibly both.
"Good luck, my boy," the old fool finally dismissed him and he left the office. Once more the halls were empty. He had no real idea of how the Headmaster always managed to send him and the other boys somewhere without meeting a soul (with the exception of Malfoy that one time), but he supposed that the old fool had to know when the students were in class or at lunch and dinner.
He had never left the castle, but he had seen the front doors once, so he knew where he had to go. Swiftly and silently like a shadow, he made his way down and onto the grounds. It was not dark yet. With it being summer, the sun stood high in the sky for far too long, but she was slowly setting, lengthening his shadow on the grass.
Looking around, he searched the border of the lake in the distance for the willow the Headmaster had mentioned. It took him only a few seconds, as it was the only tree close by.
Sighing at the rather long walk he had to take after an already long and exhausting day, he started moving, all the time watching the tree. Whomping Willow the old fool had called the tree, and he knew enough about magic by now that he knew the name had to mean something. Probably that the plant was magical and quite vicious towards any attacker.
Suddenly, he saw a shadow move in the same direction from the corner of his eyes and stopped. However, as he looked more closely, he realized that it was not a shadow he had seen.
A rather huge, black dog was making its way towards the willow; however, something about the animal was off. Thanks to Dumbledore, his senses had been weakened considerably, but he could still sense some things when an object or person, or dog as in this case, was magically strong enough. His powers even seemed to have strengthened a little during the past couple of weeks, something, that made him hope that the old coot's seals were weakening.
Suddenly the black dog jumped and Rhian winced as he realized how the Whomping Willow had earned its name. The tree suddenly lifted the branches up that were close to the animal, only to bring them back down with frightening force. However, the dog seemed to be prepared; he ducked and jumped, and suddenly, the willow froze.
In the next moment the dog disappeared between the roots, and suddenly he realized who the dog had to be; Marvolo had mentioned the skill of transforming into an animal only once, but the skill had sounded so intriguing to him, that he had remembered it. Fortunately, he thought.
So, he concluded, that this dog had to be Sirius Black. Deciding on a plan of action, he waited a few seconds longer, and then crossed the remaining distance to the tree. It didn't take him long to find the tunnel that started between two particular thick roots. He pulled his wand out, hunched forwards and then stepped inside.
The tunnel was longer than expected and twisted a few times. Absentmindedly, he wondered, if this was the secret hideout Dumbledore had mentioned and if it would still be on the grounds or not. But then light spilled in through an opening, and he shoved the thought to the side, concentrating instead.
He sneaked closer to the door that stood ajar and peaked into the room behind it. He had been right with his assumption, the dog indeed was Sirius Black, because he was just transforming into his human form.
Making use of the man's distraction and the fact that he was standing with his back towards him, Rhian pointed his wand at the escapee and shot a silent binding spell at him. Black, apparently totally surprised, fell forwards and crashed to the ground, making him wince. He hadn't planned on hurting the man after all, he was there to talk, the bindings were just a precaution in case the wizard tended to shoot spells first and ask questions later; after all, being on the run from the Ministry and the Aurors had to be nerve wrecking.
Sighing, he walked over and crouched down, before rolling the man onto his back.
"Sorry," he muttered and met the escapee's dark glare; however, it vanished as soon as Sirius Black recognized him.
"Pup!" the man exclaimed.
Rhian frowned. Clearly, Sirius Black had lived in his dog form for far too long, or it was the madness caused by the Dementors speaking, after all, prolonged exposure to those creatures drove people insane.
"Listen," he began before the wizard could say anything else.
"Dumbledore has sent me to take you to the Dementors, but I would rather talk to you. In my opinion, a few things about your story are not adding up. However, the Headmaster is expecting me back soon, so I do not have a lot of time. Which means, you have the choice of answering my questions quickly or I call the Dementors after all," he told Black, even though he was not planning on calling the guards back. He only hoped that the threat would make the man more cooperative.
Black, maybe surprised by his forwardness, nodded hastily, so he continued:
"Dumbledore told me that you were my father's best friend," he began, careful to not sneer at the word 'father' "so, why have you betrayed him? Are you truly one of Voldemort's men?"
The escapee flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, just as Neville and Elijah tended to do, but he ignored it and waited for the wizard to answer, which he did after collecting himself.
"I didn't betray them! I would never have done such a thing! But even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have been able. I wasn't their Secret Keeper!"
"Secret Keeper?" he asked, having actually not heard the term before.
"Yes, Dumbledore proposed to put your parent's house under the Fidelius Charm, so that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters would be unable to find them. James wanted me to be their Secret Keeper, but I…" he broke off, a look of torment passing through the man's sky blue eyes. "I… talked him into taking Peter as his Secret Keeper. Everybody knew that he and I were best friends, brothers almost, so I thought it would be too obvious…"
So it was that Peter-guy then, Rhian thought, but kept silent as Black continued.
"When I realized what Peter must have done, I went after him, but he tricked me."
"Tricked you how?" he asked.
Black's eyes darkened:
"He began shouting at me that I had killed Lily and James, before blowing up the road and vanishing down a drain."
Lifting his eyebrows, Rhian echoed: "Vanished down a drain?"
The escapee nodded. "He is a rat. We all learned how to become animagi together to help Moony… um… Remus, I mean…"
"Remus," he once again repeated, feeling utterly stupid. Black was talking as if he was supposed to know all these people he had mentioned already, which probably would have been good, but he didn't, thanks to the old fool.
"You don't know Remy? … but with whom have you lived then? … with me, your godfather in prison and you parents dead…"
"I live with my mother's sister and her family," he cut Black off, who paled instantly.
"You were sent to Petunia? But you were never supposed to stay there. That woman, she hates…"
"Yes," Rhian hissed bitterly. "She hates magic and she hates me, but Dumbledore sent me there."
Sirius Black frowned and to Harry's annoyance and disbelief, he mumbled: "He probably didn't know…"
Rhian scoffed. "Of course Dumbledore knew." However, Black merely shook his head as if desperate to keep his worldview intact.
An odd feeling settled in his stomach, as if this one action had just set his alarm bells off. How could someone believe so strongly in the goodness of a person, even though he was confronted with proof of the opposite? The old Headmaster was a manipulative bastard and probably would not only use foul methods on him. By now Rhian knew enough about the magical world to have an idea how many spells, curses, rituals and potions existed to bring a person under your control.
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had planned to just show himself to his godfather, talk to him a little and then tell him to hide from not only the Ministry, but also Dumbledore, but clearly that wouldn't work.
No, if he wanted to save Sirius Black, he would have to manipulate Dumbledore, but was his godfather worth the hassle? His frown deepened. Intuitively, he would say no, but then again, Black might be the key to understand what had happened on the night Dumbledore had attacked his parents, whoever they truly were, therefore it would be stupid to just leave him to his fate.
However, before he could make up his mind, his godfather spoke again:
"Look, if you can help me get to Albus, and put in a good word for me, I am sure he will listen to my story. He will believe me!" Black said wholeheartedly.
Rhian wanted to scoff, but suppressed the urge and nodded slowly. He couldn't hide the man from Dumbledore, and Sirius Black would not be able to hide for forever either; the old coot was far too powerful and intelligent for that, but if he could play the innocent child who had finally found a lost relative (so to speak), the man might have a chance.
"Then turn back into your dog form," he ordered and turned to the door, not looking if his godfather was following him or not.
Soon the dog caught up to him and they made their way back to the castle. The hallways were empty as it was getting late by now and thus, they had an undisturbed trip up to the gargoyle.
Saying the password, Rhian stepped onto the staircase and made his way up. Once on the landing he knocked, but didn't wait until he was bid to enter. As soon as he stepped in, he saw Dumbledore's eyes flash over to Sirius and something like annoyance flashed through those overly sparkling eyes. Apparently his intuition was correct and the Headmaster had something to do with Black's imprisonment; however, he didn't show any sign that he had seen the reaction and instead put on a happy childish smile.
Knowing that it would not be an easy matter to convince Dumbledore to keep Sirius safe, he ran up to the massive desk in a show of childish excitement.
"Professor, I didn't know I have a godfather! He isn't a Death Eater at all, he says that there is a potion that can confirm his innocence and that he would take it!"
Surprise flashed through Dumbledore's eyes for a split second, but Rhian pretended he hadn't seen it, or rather, thought that the surprise derived from the 'joyous' news and not the fact that the old fool's plan had totally backfired this time.
However, Dumbledore wouldn't be called the most powerful and wisest wizards of their world if he wasn't able to pull himself together quickly: "That is a relief, my boy. It always saddened me to think that your last family member was imprisoned in Azkaban for such a horrid crime. But don't worry; I will make sure the matter will be cleared up as quickly as possible."
To Rhian's frustration, the Headmaster stood up and ushered him over to the fireplace.
"This will probably take the whole night long."
He held out the bowl of floo powder to him, and Rhian hoped that he hadn't made a mistake by not telling his godfather to run and hide. But that would have made things complicated as well. Dumbledore would probably have blamed him and informed the Ministry and Dementors that the escapee had been seen on the grounds.
Well, it was too late to change anything anyway. So he took some powder, threw it into the hearth and after one last look over at the haggard man, disappeared.
When he stumbled out on the other side, he was relieved to find that the Dursley's had gone to bed already and that Malik had done all his chores. The elf had done that whenever Dumbledore kept him for too long, even though they were using the Time Turner.
Walking into his 'cupboard', he found Marvolo with a book draped over their sofa. The familiar sight instantly made him relax and he let out a long breath. However, suddenly the image in front of him blurred and instead of lying on their rather modern black leather couch, the man was sitting in an old and imposing looking wingback armchair, a heavy tomb in his lap. Marvolo lifted his gaze and Rhian gasped as he saw how much younger the man looked, at least five years, maybe even more. Then the scene blurred again and his mentor was back and once more lying on their sofa.
Drawing in a shaky breath, he shook his head inwardly. He really had to be exhausted if he was starting to see things. He resolutely ignored the voice in his head that tried to remind him about the voice he had heard not so long ago, and instead woke up his mentor.
"You are late. What took you so long? Or should I rather ask what did the Headmaster make you do to keep you so long?"
"He sent me after Black," he replied and watched as Marvolo closed his book and sat up.
"Oh yes, it's around that time already," the Diary mused.
Not understanding, Rhian echoed: "What time?"
"The end of the current term. He always sends you on some 'mission' around this time. It has already become a tradition," the memory sneered and then asked: "Was your 'godfather' able to tell you anything interesting?"
Rhian shrugged. "It's just as you guessed. He never was a follower of yours. In fact, he wasn't even the Potter's Secret Keeper, but a man named Peter Pettigrew was, and he apparently was a Death Eater, before feigning his own death and escaping.
He was adamant that Dumbledore would believe him and for now the old fool might actually help him, but certainly not out of the kindness of his heart; I had to put on quite the act to achieve that."
"I can imagine," Marvolo hummed, his face a thoughtful mask.
Going over, he climbed onto the sofa and cuddled into the Diary's side. Once again he noticed that Marvolo seemed even icier than he had in the past and automatically sent some of his magical energy over, before asking:
Will you read me a story before I go to bed?"
Chuckling, the memory stood, picked him up and carried him over to his bed.
"Only after you have changed into your nightwear and lay down. You have fallen asleep on the couch often enough. Which story would you like to hear?"
"Can we continue 'In the Edda'?" he asked and with a flick of his wand, summoned his pajamas.
As he slipped beneath the covers, he relished in the routine of being tucked in. It seemed as if they had done so for far longer than the single year they had already lived together. But then again, humans tend to grow accustomed to nice things rather quickly and easily, he supposed.
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False Ties (Prequel to: Family Ties)