The next morning Harry woke up toasty warm and in a soft bed. It took him a moment to realize that he was not in his cupboard under the stairs. He then remembered being rescued by the two men, one that could turn into a dog. The other was an old man that could do magic. Well, they both could, do magic that was. He cuddled his blanket as a reminder was to what magic can do. It looked cleaner than he had ever seen it, and it smelled wonderful.
That was a bit mind-blowing. Magic. He had been told all his short life that magic wasn't real and that he was a freak for believing in it. Now, he felt vindicated. He knew that those weird things that happened around him were magic. He had told his aunt and uncle that they were, but he had been punished for it. Stupid Dursleys. They always called him a freak, and now he knew why. They knew too and were trying to keep it from him. He'd show them and be the best wizard he could be.
He looked around the sparce room in amazement. It was a simple room, but to him it looked like a room of luxury. The shades of blue soothed his nerves and calmed his pounding heart. It made him feel at home and he relaxed back into the pillows.
He didn't know what to do with himself. Was he to cook the morning meal? Or were those house elves supposed to do that? He didn't know. He got out of the bed and was searching for his clothes, and jumped three feet in the air when one of the elves popped in.
"Oh, Master Harry is up," it said, then looked chagrined. "I is being sorry. Tibbers did not mean to scare Master Harry," Tibbers said, putting the bundle of clothing he had been carrying on the bed and bowing to the young child.
"No, that's alright," Harry said, quickly, waving his hands in the air. He didn't want the elf to feel bad. "I'm just jumpy," he added, giggling nervously. "Are those for me?" he asked, pointing to the clothes.
"Yes," the elf said, taking the shirt from the top. "We is being getting yous some new pants, but everything else is being from Master Orion when he was a boy," Tibbers explained. They were a bit old-fashioned. Not that Harry was complaining, but he had never seen clothes like this outside of his history book. "This is being okay?" the elf asked.
"I guess," Harry said, shucking his nightshirt off and donning the shirt. He was glad they got new pants. He didn't like wearing other people's underwear. Aunt Petunia made him wear Dudley's. He usually binned them as soon as he got the chance. He would go commando before he wore old pants. It was one of the many arguments they had.
"Tibbers wills be showing you the ways to breakfast," the elf said, holding out the trousers.
"Thanks," Harry said sincerely. "I'd get lost if you didn't," he added, taking the trousers, and putting his leg in the right hole. It was a rather large house. Four stories if he remembered correctly. And there were only two men living here. He never understood that. Why only one or two people lived in such big houses. Oh well, maybe he'd get it when he was older.
Soon enough, he was dressed and ready for breakfast. Tibbers had to help him with some of the fastenings, they were foreign to him. Too many buttons, clasps, and snaps. What was wrong with a good old-fashioned zipper? Or Velcro, for that matter.
They went down the moving staircase to where the kitchens were. Sirius was sitting sipping some coffee. Arcturus was reading a section of the newspaper. There was a goblin pictured on the front who was waving his fist at someone behind the camera. There were words that Harry could not make out, but the goblin, well he thought it was a goblin, didn't look happy.
"You have coffee?" Harry asked, ignoring the paper for now, and smelling the brew. "Uncle Vernon never allowed it to be in the house," he said, sitting in the chair he had last night. "The British only drink a good cuppa tea, according to him," he stated, smelling the aromas of the breakfast and coffee. It smelled delicious, like it was good English fry-up. He was just glad he didn't have to cook it. It would be the first time in two years he hadn't been woken up to help in the kitchen.
"I prefer coffee to tea," Sirius said, taking a sip and sighing. He had the rest of the newspaper next to his elbow and there was a headline that they were still hunting him on there. The picture of him on the front page was not a flattering one. It showed him deranged and crazy looking. Harry was glad he hadn't looked like that when he met him last night. He wouldn't have come with him if he had. "I missed this brew the last five years," the dogman sighed and took another sip.
"Philistine," Arcturus stated fondly in a gruff voice. He put his paper down and drank his tea like a proper British person. "Though I don't like to agree with anything your uncle says," he added thoughtfully.
"I'll have you know, that loads of people like coffee," Sirius stated, Harry nodding along with him. "Here, Harry, have a bit," he said, pouring some in a cup with a liberal amount of milk and sugar.
"Here now, don't go getting him hyped up on caffeine," Arcturus said, nodding to Tilly to serve breakfast. He picked up the London Times and started reading the business section of that paper too. He liked to keep abreast of both communities.
There was a burst of magic, and the table was ladened with a full English fry-up. Ham, bacon, sausage, beans, fried mushrooms, fried eggs, fried potatoes, toasted tomatoes, and fried bread. Grease, grease, and more grease. Just what a starving boy and a skinny escaped convict needed.
"There's more milk and sugar than there is coffee in there," Sirius said, like that was better. He gave Harry a conspiratorial wink. He started serving himself some meat and potatoes. He was craving protein. There was plenty of that on this table.
"That is nice," Harry said, taking a sip of the concoction. It was sweet and bitter. He liked it. "I think I'll have one for breakfast every morning," he added, taking another sip. It really was good. He went for the eggs and toast. Maybe some mushrooms and tomatoes.
"No more than that cup," the old man said, pointing his finger at the boy. "Too much caffeine will stunt your growth," he stated. "You're short enough already." He liked the beans and mushrooms, more fiber.
"Yes, sir," Harry said dutifully. He didn't think it was a good idea either. "I do really like it though." He started on his food and sipped his coffee to make it last longer.
"So, Harry, how would you like to have me as an uncle?" Sirius asked, thinking that was the closest thing they would be. He would be like a brother to James from the adoption. They would pass him off as a bastard child. Magicking up some documents would be easy enough.
"How do you mean?" the confused child asked, a bit wary. He had not had good luck with uncles. Then again, Sirius seemed like a nice bloke. He cut a look to the front page of the Daily Prophet and shuddered, mostly.
"Instead of me adopting you, you will adopt me," Sirius said, beaming a huge smile at him. "I will become your uncle, or cousin, and I will still take care of you. You can still be a Potter, but I will become one too," he explained. He reached for more meat. Bangers were his favored breakfast food. These were just firm enough and cooked to perfection. There were plenty to share, and still have his fill.
"This way you will still inherit the Potter fortune when you are older. You are my heir as well," Arcturus said, spooning up some more beans.
"How am I your heir?" Harry asked, not sure how that worked.
"Two ways. One you are Sirius' godson, and the second you are Dorea's grandchild. She was my first cousin on my father's side. You are closer related to me than Narcissa's brat. She is my second cousin twice removed on my father's side, or something like that. It gets tangled up the further down the tree it gets. Then you have cousins marrying cousins, like Sirius' parents. I never cottoned to that. They did that without my permission." He growled into a slice of bread with beans and took a bite like that would hide his displeasure.
"I don't understand," Harry said, picking up his fork to eat his eggs. "Isn't Sirius your grandson?" He navigated his fork to his mouth, with unsteady hands. He was still getting used to using a fork, mostly he had to use his hands at the Dursley's. They didn't want him to use their dishes. He learned in school, where he got free lunches.
"Yes, but he's disinherited for two reasons. One, because he wants to be, and two, because he went to jail. He's innocent, but it was a black mark until he is proven as such," Arcturus explained, looking to Sirius.
"That and my mum kicked me out of the family when I was sixteen," the dogman said, taking a bite of his bacon.
"She had no right to do that, and I've reinstated you," the old man said, sipping his tea.
"I still don't want the headship," Sirius said, seriously. "I would run it into the ground within a year," he added, knowing that he would hate to be the head of this cesspool of a family. "I'll help you though, Harry," he added quickly.
"I still don't understand," Harry said, sipping his coffee concoction.
"You'll understand when you're older," Sirius said, taking some more bacon from the plate in the middle of the table and putting them on Harry's plate. "Eat more protein," he said, wanting to fatten the boy up some.
"Back to what we were saying, you will adopt Sirius and he will be your uncle; we hope. He will claim to be a bastard child of Charlus, your paternal grandfather, and claim you as his ward," Arcturus stated, finishing off his beans and serving up some of the eggs even though his healer said he should lay off them. Old age and cholesterol not mixing and all that. He'd be damned if he was going to go out of this world eating bland food. "No more Dursleys, either way."
"How are you going to fool people? Aren't they going to ask questions?" Harry wanted to know. He was glad he didn't have to return to the Dursleys, but he wasn't going to hold out hope either. People had told him this before.
"Magic," Sirius said, waving the question away. There were ways to fake memories and make up back stories. It was one of the reasons criminals got away with so many crimes in the magical world.
"Oh," was all Harry could say.
"We'll do it after breakfast," Arcturus said, relishing his meal. There was a good spread on the table, and he was going to have a bit of everything. He didn't indulge often. Tibbers was a stickler for sticking to the healer's meal plan, even though he protested often enough. He still got his way when he put his foot down, but most of the time it wasn't worth the argument.
They completed their meal talking about trivial things and made their way to the ritual room. Arcturus had had Tilly get what they needed for the adoption earlier that morning from Knockturn Alley. That place never closed and if you wanted something it was easily obtainable. Especially if your name was Black.
Harry followed along after the two men, observing everything as he went. There were things that moved that shouldn't and things that made noises that should stay silent. The two men didn't take notice of these things, but Harry did. He was unused to so much action and noise happening in a household.
Not to mention that even with house elves around there was an underlaying amount of… not dirt, but lived-in ambiance that Harry never felt at his aunt's house. It just felt so old and full of history. The saying 'if walls could tell tales' seemed to hold true here. and Harry would love to hear what they had to say.
They made it to the ritual room and Harry stuck close to Sirius, who stayed at the outer rim of the room. He let Grandfather take the lead and just stood where he was told and did as he was bid.
Arcturus gathered up all that was needed and went to the dais and put it all down at the base. He started pouring the potions one by one in the order that was needed, into the basin that was around the pike in the middle of the platform. It would serve as a cauldron for their purpose. There was no need for heat, just a bowl for mixture. The potion changed color with each item added. It spewed mist and smoke. Even without heat, it bubbled and churned.
"Sirius, come and bring Harry," he called when all the potions were added. It was a light pink color now and it was bubbling and rolling like it was boiling.
Sirius picked Harry up onto his hip and sauntered over. "What do you need?" he asked, peering at the mixture in the middle of the dais. It looked like sludge, and he was not looking forward to drinking it. He knew he would have to. It was the only way for him to be adopted, but bleh. There was a sulfur smell in the air, and the hint of socks.
"I need Harry to prick his finger and drop eleven drops of blood in the potion," Arcturus stated, stirring the potion counterclockwise three times, then clockwise five times. He then tapped the stir stick on the rim six times. The ting of the stick sounded throughout the room and made Harry look around the room for the echo.
"Harry, hold your hand over the bowl. This shouldn't hurt too much," Sirius said, taking a small knife out of his pocket and holding it to the boy's thumb.
"You're going to cut me?" Harry asked aghast. No one told him they were going to cut him.
"It'll only be a little cut," Sirius said, trying to calm the child. "It's a magical knife," he said, putting the knife to his own thumb and slicing it. "See, it doesn't hardly hurt at all," he said, showing him the cut. The cut bled for a little bit on to the floor, and then healed. There wasn't even a scab or scar.
Harry eyeballed him hard for a long moment then he cut the old man a look. Arcturus nodded sagely and Harry sighed. He put his tiny hand over the bowl and firmed his face. He really wanted Sirius to be his new uncle, so he firmed his resolve. His hand hardly shook, and he reached over with his other hand and grabbed his wrist to keep it steady.
"Okay," he said in a shaky voice.
Sirius took Harry's thumb in his hand and gently cut a small incision in the appendage. He counted the drops and then moved the hand from above the bowl and then healed the cut.
"You were very brave," he told the boy and kissed his forehead.
Harry beamed at him and looked in awe at his healed hand. Sirius had been correct, that hardly hurt at all.
Arcturus stirred the concoction counterclockwise a few more times, and then spelled it into a container.
"Here, Sirius, drink up," he said, taking Harry and placing him on his own hip. The boy was light enough that he could carry him for a short while. Not too long, he was an old man after all.
Sirius gulped and held his nose. He then downed the contents of the container and gagged. It was as vile as he thought it was going to be. The sulfur taste was overshadowed by the taste of socks, and there was a hint of mint, which was weird. It felt like he was swallowing an oyster, it was that thick and slimy. He finally got the potions down his throat and waited.
He then doubled over in pain. His whole body was undergoing a change. He fell to the floor, making Harry cry out in sympathy pain. He curled up into a ball, grabbing his hair to focus on that pain and not the one his whole body was experiencing.
"Sirius," the boy cried as he reached out to help him. He squirmed in the old man's surprisingly firm grip.
"He'll be fine," the old man said, holding tight to the young child, who was doing his damnedest to get down. "His body is changing. He's becoming a Potter," he explained, hoping the boy understood. "He'll be fine," he said again, trying to sooth the boy.
"But he's hurting," Harry said, still reaching for his godfather. He wanted to make the pain stop. As if something heard his wish, the man stopped yelling.
"Damn, but that hurt," Sirius said, but his voice was different, like it was two octaves higher. He stood and looked at the two in front of him. "Well?" he questioned.
"Sirius?" Harry asked, not understanding how the man looked so different.
"Your face looks like a Potter. Your nose is bigger, and flatter. Your cheekbones are further down, and your mouth is fuller," Arcturus stated, looking at his grandson critically. "You still have some Black features, like grey eyes, and your hair is still black, albeit messier. However, you definitely can pull off being a Potter," he finished his assessment. He handed Harry back to Sirius. "Your body structure is different too. Leaner, more muscular. Like a swimmer."
"Now all we have to do is fake the memories. I'll leave that to you. You are better at the Dark Arts than I am," Sirius said, knowing that mind-bending magic was very dark. It would essentially put an entire life's worth of memories in Sirius' mind. They would be like viewing a movie, he would remember them but without emotions attached to them.
"What name will you take?" Arcturus asked, that was something they had not discussed.
"That is a good question," Sirius said, not having thought about that one.
"It can't be a star name," the old man said. He tapped his chin in thought.
"It can't be James or the equivalent either," Sirius agreed, putting Harry on the ground, but holding his hand. He didn't want him to run around the ritual room.
"How about Victor Henry? That sounds pompous enough," Arcturus said, thinking of something that would not be connected to them in any way.
"I like it," Sirius said, though he thought it might be hard to get used to it being so different than his real name.
"Come, let us do this in the study," his grandfather said, leading the way out of the room. The house elves would clean the mess.
"Let's," Sirius agreed, moving to join him, guiding Harry with him.
"So, our cover story is that you are a bastard child of Charlus," Arcturus stated, getting out a piece of parchment once he got settled at his desk. "Homeschooled. Can you pull off a muggle education?" he asked Sirius.
"No," was the answer.
"Pity," the old man said, scribbling down a few notes. "Do you have a problem being a half-blood?" A muggle woman would be harder to trace.
"No," Sirius said, thinking along the same lines.
"Good, then your mother will be a muggle," Arcturus said, jotting down a random name. "Abigail Spinster will be your mother's name," he stated, making more notes.
"Okay," Sirius stated, not caring one bit. He would have it all magicked into his head. He didn't need to remember it.
Arcturus wrote for a good five hours, during which Sirius and Harry had done other things, and made up a general outline of Sirius' new life. He added some detailed scenes, but mostly it was vague. There were Yule scenes, and Birthday scenes, some soppy scenes that children would remember, but the rest was left as a vague memory. When he was done it took up seventeen sheets of parchment.
"Tilly," he called to the air.
"Master is calling Tilly," the elf said, popping into the room.
"Bring Sirius here, and something to eat for all of us, if those two haven't had lunch," he ordered.
"Tilly will," she said, popping away.
The other two came into the room a few minutes later. They sat and looked at Arcturus.
"I've finished, and after lunch, we'll do the transfer," the old man said, still seated at his desk.
A tray of sandwiches and fruit appeared on the desk, along with three bottles of butterbeer, and they all started in on their meal. It didn't take long for it to disappear. Sirius and Harry let Arcturus know they had just explored the house while he had been busy. Harry talked more than Sirius did, and his awe over the house made both men smile.
"Sirius, sit over there. Harry, you stay in that chair," Arcturus ordered when they had polished off their meal. He stood, taking the parchments he had been writing all morning and went to the indicated chair.
Sirius did as bid and waited. There was a pillar with a basin next to the chair he was sitting on.
Arcturus took the parchment and put it in the bowl. He poured a potion, he had retrieved from the ritual room that morning, over it, and then waved his wand over it and started incanting, "Memoria Creare." He said this three times and the parchment turned into silvery white threads. He swirled his wand into the threads until they stuck to the wand then he picked up the wand and moved them to Sirius' head. "Memoria Translatio," he said, tapping the threads to the head until they disappeared into Sirius.
Sirius cried out as a headache hit him full force. He grabbed his head and doubled over in the chair. It only lasted a few minutes, and once again Harry had to be held back.
"I hope that's the last of it," Sirius/Victor said, finally sitting back up straight.
"Should we call you Victor now?" Arcturus asked, thinking that would probably be for the best.
"I actually prefer Vic," the now named Vic said, sticking his nose up in the air.
"I just got used to calling you Sirius," Harry pouted.
"You can just call me Uncle Pads," Vic said, tweaking his nose.
"Okay, Uncle Pads," Harry said, smiling a huge smile.