The Son of Lord Voldemort

Chapter 120

Dumbledore sighed. He had lived for more than a century, but he had never felt as old as he did in this moment. He had run out of options. There wasn't a spell that could help him, and no one that could give him the answers he needed. The past few days, since his conversation with Moody, he had weighed the pros and cons of telling Sirius and Remus that Harry Potter was alive. He hadn't wanted to get them involved. He knew how they would react. But in the end, he knew that Alastor was right, Sirius and Remus would move heaven and hell to find Harry. They might know something that could help, without knowing it. More importantly, the longer he waited to tell them the truth, the more angry they would be.

He looked at the old, cracked clock that hung above one of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place. He had told Sirius he would be arriving at noon, but when Dumbledore arrived Kreacher said he had gone out, and it was five past twelve. Suddenly, the fireplace roared to life.

"Sorry, Albus," Remus said, as he stepped through the floo. "I lost track of time while grading papers."

"It's quite alright, Remus," Dumbledore said.

The floo flared to life again, green flames roaring, and Sirius stepped out.

"Bloody, goblins," Sirius muttered. He looked up and gave Dumbledore and Remus a lopsided grin. "Sorry, Albus. Hey, Remus."

"Sirius," Remus smiled, as he took a seat near the fireplace.

Sirius patted down his robes. "So, Albus, what's all this about?" He sat down and threw his feet up on a short glass table.

"I am afraid that you will not be happy with me after what I tell you," Dumbledore began.

Remus looked bemused, and Sirius' eyes narrowed.

"Please know that I wasn't always aware." Dumbledore said honestly. "Last June I went to Gringotts. In retrospect, I should have done so sooner, and know that I will always regret that I didn't. The war, the Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts, and attempting to stay on top of everything else, it diverted my attention. It didn't seem important." He sighed. "With James and Lily dead, and their son dying with him, the Potter estate would be sent to the Ministry to be added to the emergency budget."

Sirius growled at the mention of his friends, and pain flashed in his dark eyes. Remus' eyes flashed amber, and his hands gripped the armrest of his chair.

"That's why I failed to feel the need to speak with the goblins at Gringotts," Dumbledore continued. "However, I wanted to ensure the Potter estate had, in fact, gone to the Ministry and not into the vault of someone…unscrupulous. That's when, as Harry's legal guardian due to your incarceration," Sirius flinched, "I was told that the Potter vaults were still active."

"Still active?" Remus shook his head. "That isn't possible. There are no more Potter's."

"What does it matter if it was still active?" Sirius snarled. "What's this all about?"

"Sirius," Remus said, "there must be a reason why Albus is telling us this." He looked questioningly at Dumbledore, his eyes flashing between brown and amber.

"A vault cannot be active unless an heir is alive," Dumbledore said.

The room descended into silence, then the flames in the fireplace flickered and died. The glass table where Sirius' feet were shattered, and Sirius jumped up. A furious power radiated from Sirius, his eyes darkening until they looked like two lumps of coal. His face hardened until he appeared no more than a statue, a cold glare etched into his face.