“What’s going on, Dumbledore? You sent Fawkes to fetch me with urgency, saying there was something important…”

The moment Sirius stepped out of the swirling flames conjured by Fawkes; he called out loudly before his eyes had even fully adjusted to the office’s candlelight. His voice tone had a mix of curiosity and excitement.

“Thank heavens, finally something I can actually help with! You know, at the Ministry I’ve been completely useless: just shuffling papers and attending pointless meetings while Fudge gives me tasks specifically designed to keep me out of the way. Honestly, I was beginning to think I’d go mad from boredom. Oh. You three?!”

Sirius’s rapid-fire words cut off abruptly mid-sentence as his eyes swept the office and landed on a familiar face.

When he spotted Harry among the gathered crowd, his entire face lit up with delight.

But then, as if suddenly misunderstanding the situation based on his godson’s tendency to find trouble, his eyebrows arched up and the corner of his mouth twitched with knowing amusement.

“In trouble again?” He asked with fake severity.

Harry’s expression darkened and his jaw tightened with indignation. He felt that Sirius was becoming particularly less endearing than before.

But before Harry could voice any of the protests forming in his mind, before he could defend himself or point out that this time he genuinely hadn’t done anything wrong, Sirius had already crossed the office with long strides.

He was grinning widely now, clearly just teasing, and he pulled Harry into a tight embrace that was half affectionate and half suffocating.

The embrace forced Harry to swallow whatever indignant response he’d been about to deliver, his words were literally compressed out of him by the pressure of Sirius’s arms.

Not until Harry was nearly suffocating with his face pressed against Sirius’s shoulder, his lungs protesting the lack of oxygen, and his ribs complaining about the enthusiastic compression did Sirius finally release him from the bear hug. But even then, he didn’t let go completely.

Gripping Harry’s shoulders firmly with both hands, holding him at arm’s length, Sirius looked him over with careful scrutiny. His sharp eyes tracked across Harry’s face, checking for signs of injury or suffering.

Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Sirius gave an approving smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, then vigorously tousled Harry’s already messy hair with one hand making it stick up in even more directions than usual.

Only after this ritual of godfatherly fondness did he finally shift his attention to assess the larger situation around him.

“So, who can tell me what’s actually….” Sirius began, his gaze sweeping across the gathered group with growing confusion. “Oh, who are you?”

Everyone here was familiar to him: Dumbledore, McGonagall, the trio of troublemakers he’d come to know well. All except one person: a young woman who stood slightly apart from the others.

Sirius’s eyes focused on Amelia with surprise, taking in her beautiful facial features, and her American-style robes.

“Hello, Mr. Black. It’s an honor to meet you,” Amelia said formally, stepping forward slightly and offering her hand in greeting.

“I’m Amelia Depp, from the Magical Congress of the United States of America.”

Amelia had already recognized Sirius from numerous newspaper articles and photographs, of course. His escape from Azkaban had caused quite a stir at the time.

Many British wizards, terrified by the reports of a dangerous mass murderer on the loose had fled in various directions to avoid him. Some had ended up seeking shelter in America, arriving with wild stories and making a great fuss about the whole affair, loudly attacking the British Ministry’s incompetence in allowing such an escape to occur.

Naturally, this international drama had piqued the intense curiosity of the American magical community which was always interested in British magical politics.

The New York Ghost had continuously quoted and reprinted articles from the Daily Prophet during that period, following every development of the manhunt with intense attention. And the subsequent revelations, the truth about Sirius’s innocence had been even more shocking and newsworthy.

The man believed to be the top deputy and right hand of You-Know-Who, the traitor Sirius Black who had allegedly betrayed the Potters to their deaths, was not only completely innocent but a hero of genuinely tragic proportions. Falsely imprisoned, robbed of thirteen years of his life, denied even the opportunity to raise his godson.

Amelia hadn’t yet graduated from Ilvermorny at the time of these revelations, and she vividly remembered how many students at school had debated the matter with passionate intensity.

Dormitory arguments had raged late into the night about whether Sirius Black’s thirteen-year imprisonment in Azkaban was a punishment he’d somehow deserved through his negligence, or a selfless sacrifice he’d made in guilt.

Hesitantly, still processing the presence of an American official in Dumbledore’s office, Sirius nodded politely to Amelia and accepted her offered handshake. Then, as the implications of her introduction fully registered, he widened his eyes in surprise.

“Wait… The Magical Congress of the United States? An American official?” He looked to Dumbledore with confusion before turning back to Amelia. “But I haven’t heard anything at the Ministry and I would have heard, despite Fudge’s best efforts to exclude me about any official delegation coming from America…”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much time for pleasantries, Sirius—”

Dumbledore interjected with unusual directness. His expression had grown grave.

“Miss Amelia Depp has traveled here under urgent circumstances to bring us some critical information concerning Bryan.”

“Bryan?”

Sirius’s face showed even greater bewilderment, his eyebrows drawing together. His confusion was entirely understandable as Bryan was supposed to be safely occupied with business matters across the Atlantic.

“He’s in New York with Remus, isn’t he? They’re working on that learning machine project, dealing with the American magical government. I just received a letter from Bryan a few days ago that was cheerful enough, talking about the negotiations going well. What could have happened in such a short time? Is there some kind of problem?”

Sirius was clearly anticipating some minor complication that would be easily resolved.

Dumbledore glanced at Amelia briefly, then turned back to Sirius and began to recount the situation. He relayed what Amelia had just told them, though in simplified form for efficiency with some minor details omitted to save time and focus on the critical points.

At first, as Dumbledore spoke, Sirius’s expression fluctuated through a range of emotions: surprised at the scope of Bryan’s activities, delighted to hear about the Nundu incident being resolved, listening with great interest to tales of vampire conspiracies.

His face showed the engagement of someone hearing an exciting adventure story.

But by the end of the recounting, when Dumbledore reached the part about how the MACUSA had sent nearly all their available Aurors to surround Amelia’s family home in an aggressive posture that looked like they were preparing to go to war with Bryan, Sirius’s expression had transformed completely.

He looked both deeply shocked and furious, his hands were clenching into fists at his sides.

“The MACUSA actually dared to do this?” Sirius’s voice had gone dangerously soft. His gray eyes flashed with anger.

“Indeed, I too am quite surprised by the audacity of their decision-makers,” Dumbledore said, though his tone showed he was less surprised than disappointed in human nature.

He quickened his pace, his voice taking on a more somber, urgent tone.

“Of course, Bryan hasn’t been formally detained in the sense of being imprisoned. Amelia tells us that Bryan voluntarily returned to his hotel in New York and has decided not to venture out for a while, effectively placing himself under a form of house arrest…”

Dumbledore paused, and a thoughtful gleam flashed through his blue eyes.

He stroked his long silver beard thoughtfully before continuing.

“I believe Bryan must have realized that someone is deliberately orchestrating a conspiracy against him. I suspect his decision to temporarily stay at the hotel and avoid going out serves multiple purposes.”

Dumbledore held up one finger, then two, counting off his deductions.

“First, by deliberately remaining under Auror surveillance where his movements are monitored and known, he avoids the possibility of further conspiracies targeting him and forcing him into a violent confrontation with MACUSA.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, I believe Bryan may not be entirely certain about who actually took his wands and who is capable of creating such deceptions to frame him.

At the very least, I suspect he’s unclear about that person’s ultimate motives and objectives. By appearing helpless and contained, he may be hoping to draw them out, to observe their next move. Which is why he’s decided to remain calm and carefully observe the developing situation rather than react immediately.”

It was vintage Dumbledore analysis, seeing the chess game within the crisis.

Sirius furrowed his brow deeply. He had taken in all of Dumbledore’s speculation with serious attention, processing the logic, but he still found the conclusion hard to fully accept given what he knew of Bryan’s personality.

“From what I know of Bryan’s character,” Sirius said slowly, his voice carrying doubt, “if Fudge ever dared to send the Auror Office after him in Britain, and tried to arrest him on bogus charges, Bryan would tie them all up like Christmas presents and throw them back at the Ministry’s front steps with ribbons attached. He’s never been one to tolerate such things quietly.”

“That’s because the MACUSA is not the British Ministry of Magic, Sirius. And Bryan, despite his power, wouldn’t be reckless enough to go to war with an entire magical government and community on foreign soil.”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes stared into Sirius’s gray ones.

“Bryan has mentioned to me on several occasions the critical importance of that workshop he and Remus have established. This entire trip to New York was taken on specifically to gain broader support and secure partnerships that would allow the project to flourish. He absolutely must ensure the partnership isn’t jeopardized……”

He drew a breath before continuing with his assessment of the current situation.

“Remus has temporarily lost the ability to act due to the lunar cycle and its aftermath. Bryan has temporarily lost his wands through theft. Both of them are restrained in different ways. We cannot in good conscience let Bryan face this complex problem entirely alone, isolated in a foreign country.”

Dumbledore’s expression softened slightly.

“If Bryan has a plan and I’m quite certain he has, then someone needs to be there to execute certain aspects of it. So, I’ve called you here specifically, hoping you’ll travel to New York with Amelia and make contact with Bryan and provide whatever help is required.”

Then Dumbledore’s voice took on a note of warning, gentle but absolutely serious.

“But you must exercise considerable restraint, Sirius. You must control your natural impulses toward action. Most importantly, you must follow Bryan’s instructions precisely, even if you don’t fully understand his reasoning. Do you understand?”

Sirius’s expression was somewhat grim as he absorbed this lecture. He looked rather unconvinced about the necessity of such caution as his body language showed he’d prefer a more direct approach involving hexes and possibly property damage.

But in the end, after a long moment of internal struggle visible on his open face, he didn’t argue with Dumbledore’s assessment or refuse the mission. He simply gave a short, sharp nod of acceptance.

“Well then—”

Dumbledore nodded with satisfaction, relieved to have secured Sirius’s agreement without more argument. He turned his attention to Amelia, preparing to say something related, but suddenly caught sight of the dim darkness outside the windows of his office.

Night had fully fallen while they’d been talking, the sky now was deep blue-black of true darkness. He hesitated, glancing at the clock on his desk which confirmed it was well past dinner time, then turned his thoughtful gaze to Professor McGonagall.

“Amelia shouldn’t be seen by the students, Minerva,” He said quietly. “Her presence here is already unusual, and the fewer people who know about this situation, the better for everyone involved.

But she’s traveled such a long way under stressful circumstances, could you prepare a place for her to rest properly and arrange for some food to be brought up? She must be exhausted.”

Professor McGonagall nodded immediately, her stern expression softening as she looked at Amelia with respect.

Though this young woman worked for MACUSA, the same organization that had so poorly handled the situation with Bryan, her willingness to risk unauthorized international travel to Hogwarts to deliver a message on Bryan’s behalf had greatly increased McGonagall’s favorable impression of her character.

“Of course, Albus. I’ll prepare one of the guest quarters and have the house-elves bring up a nice meal.”

“Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore! That’s very kind,” Amelia said gratefully. But even as she expressed her thanks, she was already shaking her head in polite refusal.

“However, I’m afraid I can’t afford to wait until tomorrow morning to make the return journey, much as I’d appreciate the rest. If at all possible, I’d really like to leave immediately.”

Seeing their questioning looks, she explained her reasoning with anxiety.

“The Department of Magical Security back home, specifically Graves and his senior staff could come looking for me at any moment to understand the situation with Bryan and get my interpretation of events. I’m also a witness, after all. If they discover I’ve already left New York, that would create an entirely new set of problems.”

This reason was indeed convincing, and Dumbledore couldn’t rationally argue against such logic. He looked toward Sirius with a questioning expression.

“I have no problem with leaving immediately, Dumbledore,” Sirius said, stepping forward eagerly.

“I’ve already requested open-ended leave from the Ministry for ‘personal family matters’. Given the current situation, Fudge would probably love nothing more than for me to stay far away from his Ministry and his precious meetings. Besides, I’m quite eager to see Bryan as soon as possible and find out what he’s really planning.”

“In that case—”

Dumbledore hesitated no longer, and made the decision. He moved toward where Fawkes had sat back onto his golden perch.

“I’ll have Fawkes transport you both back to New York. However, you must understand that the distance is far too great to reach New York in a single journey. The magical expenditure would be too severe. You’ll need to stop and rest at intervals along the way.”

Both Amelia and Sirius nodded simultaneously.

Harry looked at Sirius, whom he’d only just seen and was now about to vanish again, and opened his mouth but said nothing. He understood the urgency of the situation.

BANG—

After the explosive sound of phoenix departure, a few flickering embers of magical fire drifted slowly down through the office air like falling stars, gradually cooling and fading before they reached the floor.

The bright flames had consumed Sirius and Amelia, carrying them away on the first leg of their transcontinental journey.

The office felt suddenly emptier, quieter, as if something vital had been removed from it.

“Albus—”

Professor McGonagall’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with concern. Looking at the empty space where the two travelers had stood just moments ago, her face showed the worry she’d been suppressing while maintaining her professional demeanor in front of the students.

“There’s no need to worry too much, Minerva,” Dumbledore responded, his voice remaining calm and steady.

“You know Bryan as well as I do. With his wisdom and ability, he’s more than capable of handling any crisis that might arise.”

Dumbledore said then he looked down at the three students who remained standing somewhat awkwardly near his desk, their faces showing various mixtures of concern and curiosity.

His gaze lingered on Harry’s green eyes for a moment before his expression relaxed and softened. He said with warmth and amiability:

“Harry, Ron, Hermione, it seems you’ve once again played a crucial role in important events, quite by accident and entirely unintentionally.”

The three students looked rather sheepish at this. They had indeed become almost reluctantly accustomed to such incidents finding them without any deliberate seeking on their part.

Trouble seemed to have a magnetic attraction to their little group.

“Of course,” Dumbledore continued, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone though his eyes still twinkled with understanding,

“I also trust that you all certainly understand the importance of keeping this entire matter completely confidential, yes?”

Dumbledore hadn’t reproached them at all for their earlier recklessness in leaving the safety of the crowds to climb that isolated hillside which relieved Harry immensely, since he’d been half-expecting a lecture about security and the dangers of the current times.

Grateful for this mercy, he nodded his head eagerly and vigorously, his entire upper body bobbing with the emphasis of his agreement.

“We understand, Professor. We won’t say a word to anyone.”

Ron and Hermione echoed similar sentiments, their own heads nodding in earnest promise.

“Excellent. Then I suggest you all go and enjoy what remains of your dinner—”

Dumbledore said with a gentle, grandfatherly smile, his voice soft and dismissive in the kindest possible way.

He gestured toward the door with one hand.

“The house-elves have outdone themselves this evening, I’m told. It would be a shame to miss it completely. And try, if you can, to set aside your worries about Professor Watson. He’s in very capable hands: his own, largely, but now also with Sirius there to assist.”

As the trio went out of the office, Dumbledore turned back to the window. He gazed out at the dark grounds of Hogwarts, his reflection showing in the glass where he looked absorbed in thought.

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