Chapter - 23 : Unpacking and Uncertainties part - 3

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"Yeah, yeah, I know." Sirius waved one hand dismissively. "I'm slow on the uptake. It's just hard for me to really understand, that's all. All I've got to go on are stories… I haven't lived it as you have."

"I wish I hadn't," Harry said quietly. "And I really hope you never will."

"I won't," Sirius said confidently. "We can change things. Speaking of which, we should get going. The goblins won't be happy if we're late."

"Hey, I've been waiting for you!" Harry stood up and gestured at the mess of discarded clothes scattered across the floor. "How long does it take to pick out a robe, anyway?"

"I don't have one that fits," Sirius complained, casting an annoyed look at his wardrobe. "Which means I'll have to wear one of Regulus' old robes and they're all Slytherin colours."

"Well, as soon as you've withdrawn some galleons we can go to Madam Malkin's and buy you lots of bright red and gold robes, how about that," Harry said patronisingly.

Sirius glared at him, but then his lips twitched up into a smile. "Harry, if you wanted new robes for yourself you should have just said! Gold will look just perfect on you, I'm sure."

"Uh… that's okay," Harry said hastily, knowing that Sirius would probably think it funny to force him into a glittering red and gold monstrosity. "I've got enough of robes already. I wouldn't want to put you out."

"Well, after the adoption ritual you'll probably need new ones," Sirius reminded him, a wicked glint in his eyes as he turned and headed for the door. "Consider them as belated Christmas and birthday presents!" At the door he paused and turned back to look at Harry. "Hmm, what about an orange cape to go with the scarlet robes?"

Harry was horrified at the mental picture the suggestion created. Sirius left the room, grinning in satisfaction.

"Wait!" Harry yelled after him, standing up in a rush. "Sirius! You're not actually serious, are you?"

The only response was Sirius' laughter.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how much is this going to hurt?" Harry eyed the dagger the goblin was holding. The flickering light from the circle of candles burning around them glinted of the sharp blade, making Harry rather nervous.

"Ten," the goblin drawled, his teeth bared in a vicious looking smile.

"Don't suppose I could have a pain potion?"

"No," the goblin said.

"Relax, it won't hurt you at all," Sirius explained rather more sympathetically. "Well, not during this part, anyway. Afterwards I've heard it gets quite painful, but unfortunately a potion would interfere with the magic."

Harry sighed. "Figures."

The goblin glared at them both until he had their complete attention. "Do you both understand that the effects of this ritual are irreversible?" he demanded.

"We do," Sirius replied with Harry nodding his agreement.

"And do you accept that Gringotts is not liable for any injuries which might occur, including but not limited to death, disfigurement, and incineration?"

"We do," Sirius said again while Harry looked on in alarm.

"Very well. Moving on, the magic involved will strengthen the Black traits already present in Mr Aubrey, while linking his blood to that of you, Mr Black," the goblin said and then turned to Harry. "Do you, Mr Aubrey, certify that you are related to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by no more than three generations removed?"

"I do," Harry said. His grandmother Dorea had been a Black. "Sort of, at least," he added, sharing a worried glance with Sirius. They had discussed whether it would matter that Harry was related to a Black Family from an alternate universe, in the end deciding it probably wouldn't. Rituals were tricky things, however, so they were mostly relying on guesswork.

The adoption ritual was designed to allow a witch or wizard to accept a distant relative as their magical heir - it didn't work unless those involved were already related. Due to the widespread obsession with preserving family lines, many purebloods hid their manors and other valuables behind complex blood wards, only allowing access to their descendants. In the absence of a direct heir, however, one could be created from an offshoot of the family tree. The ritual strengthened the existing ties of blood enough for a distant relative to be accepted by the family magic; which meant that, if successful, Harry would gain Sirius as a sort of third parent alongside James and Lily.

It was a huge and irrevocable step to take. Harry knew the adoption made sense from a practical view point, since it would add considerable weight to his cover story, but he'd still hesitated before agreeing. For one thing, all rituals involved blood and bordered on Dark Magic - the only reason blood adoption wasn't illegal was because the old wizarding families who found it useful were the ones making the laws. In the end, however, Harry's desire for anonymity had trumped his other concerns (helped along by the small and buried part of him that had always longed for a proper family). He had many worries and doubts, wondering if the ritual would work and what the consequences would be either way, but mostly Harry was just eager to get it over and done with.

"Very well," the goblin said at last. "Let us begin."

Harry and Sirius knelt down facing each other within the ring of candles, with the goblin standing just outside the circle. After muttering to himself in incomprehensible Gobbledegook, the goblin raised the dagger and cut the palm of Sirius' right hand. The blood dripped from the wound to fall into a ceramic bowl on the floor between the two kneeling wizards.

"Blood of the father, willingly given, you will bind your son!"

As the goblin spoke, Sirius met Harry's gaze with uncharacteristic seriousness, not even blinking when the goblin used the same wickedly sharp blade to cut a handful of hair from his head. That too was flung into the bowl as the mixture began to bubble.

"Body of the father, knowingly given, you will transform your son."

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