"Go talk to Dumbledore later—maybe he'll have a different take on this."
Lupin and Sirius mulled over the fate of the Black family home as they walked.
"We'll see. Someone sniffed out my identity and tipped off the Ministry. I'm out as a professor at Hogwarts anyway."
"With me on the run and you a werewolf, slipping back into the castle won't be simple."
Their conversation led them, with Argus in tow, down a dim, cramped corridor to the Black family mansion's library. The place was a disaster—filthier than the rest of the house. Few ever ventured here, and Kreacher couldn't reach it back in the day. Dust blanketed everything, even the floor.
"Hold up," Sirius warned, blocking Lupin. "Heavy Dark Arts wards. Need Black blood to pass."
He jabbed his finger, letting a drop fall onto the stone pillar by the door. A chill blue glow flared, then white light snaked up his hand, sealing the prick. Sirius winced. Moments later, the library erupted in blinding light.
He exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "That's it. No more Black family library after today."
"Help yourself to any books or scrolls. Take what you want."
For Sirius, the Black legacy was a chain, not a crown. The name, the heirlooms—it all pressed down like an anchor. Handing the collection to Argus lightened the load.
Argus nodded, no fuss made. He flicked his wand, vanishing the room's contents into his Undetectable Extension Charm pouch. It looked like a modest bag, but inside rivaled the Hogwarts library in scope—shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes.
His pouch strained under the weight.
"Need research? Swing by Acolytes Manor anytime," Argus said. "Beyond the Blacks' stash, we've got rare texts that might come in handy down the line."
"I'll call on you without a second thought if it's serious."
Sirius, never one for false modesty, agreed with a grin. He led Argus through the rest, fulfilling every promise. The mansion stood hollow now, an empty shell. Only the ancient Galleons locked in Gringotts remained untouched; everything else went to Argus.
Pity the Black seat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors had already shifted to another family. Dumbledore's face at Argus's return would have been priceless.
"Sirius, Professor Lupin—you two planning to hole up here forever?" Argus asked.
Lupin sighed. "Peter's still loose, and my condition..."
"It's fine, Argus!" Sirius clapped his shoulder. "Ministry's not breathing down our necks like before. Lupin can grab some Galleons from my vault—we'll manage."
Lupin shot him a look, words caught in his throat.
Argus smiled. "I was going to ask you both to join the Acolytes anyway."
"But if you're set on laying low, no hard feelings."
"Speaking of—Harry's roughing it at his aunt's. You could check in on him more, keep an eye out..."
"Wait—what?" Lupin's brain lagged a beat before it clicked. Argus was offering them spots in the Acolytes.
Before Hogwarts, he'd agonized over the choice: Acolytes or the school. In the end, Harry and the hunt for Peter tipped the scales. He'd figured that door slammed shut for good. Yet here it was, cracking open.
Sirius perked up, intrigued. He had the means for a cushy life, but idleness chafed. Twelve years rotting in Azkaban was enough "downtime" to last a lifetime. Better a clean end than this.
Still, his fugitive status gave him pause. "I'm still on the Ministry's wanted list. Joining the Acolytes—won't that drag you into the mess?"
Lupin nodded, steadying himself. "Yeah, Argus. We're hot cargo. Showing up at the Acolytes' heart could draw eyes."
"Easy fix," Argus said, plan already forming. "We took in plenty from Knockturn Alley—blokes scarred from botched spells or alchemy experiments. They all wear cloaks, keep faces hidden."
"You could blend right in with the same cover."
That sealed it. Lupin craved the structure; Hogwarts had spoiled him with purpose, but scraping by—cold nights, empty belly—grated. Leeching off Sirius full-time? No thanks. This solved it neatly.
Sirius? Simple boredom. Anything beat pacing these walls.
"What roles for the Defense Against the Dark Arts prof and his sidekick, Mr. Filch?" Sirius asked, nudging for Lupin, who still hung back from his earlier no.
"Hermione handles placements," Argus replied.
"Miss Granger? She's jumped ship to the Acolytes?" Sirius blinked.
"She's Muggle-born, right? Fourth year—bit green for that, no?"
"She's a natural organizer," Argus assured, sensing the doubt. "Showed up right after summer started. Training under Vinda now—been invaluable."
"She'll slot you where you shine. And no splitting you up."
Sirius rubbed his neck, relieved. Parting from Lupin would've been awkward to explain.
"Sort the old house first, then visit Harry," Argus said. "Head to Acolytes Manor when you're ready."
He skipped the Acolytes' rules—they'd researched it, and signing on meant playing by them.
Mention of the Black house sobered them.
"Give us a week," Sirius said.
"We'll report in together."
---
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