Chapter 249 – Malfoy Manor
Phineas and Sirius smiled as they bid farewell to the Malfoy family, then mounted Sirius's newly acquired motorcycle and headed back to 12 Grimmauld Place.
"By the way, Sirius," Phineas said over the wind, "have you received Professor Dumbledore's invitation? He said he's planning to offer you the Defense Against the Dark Arts position next year."
Sirius grinned. "He did mention it in his last letter."
"Oh, and I'm planning to invite Harry here during the holidays," Phineas added. "As we agreed, we'll pick him up from his uncle's house in a week."
Once they arrived, Sirius looked at Phineas with a wide smile. "So, what do you think of my new bike?"
"Not bad," Phineas said, nodding. "It suits you. Did you modify it yourself?"
"Of course!" Sirius replied proudly. "I did the same with my old flying motorcycle too—the one I gave to Hagrid."
Phineas raised his eyebrows. "So that's where Hagrid's bike came from. I always wondered—Muggle vehicles like that aren't allowed to be sold modified in the magical world, and there's no way Hagrid could've done it himself. He's not quite at that level."
"If you like this one," Sirius said with a grin, "take it. I can always get another."
Phineas waved him off. "Forget it. I usually let Puff take me places. If she's unavailable, I just Apparate. Magic's far more convenient than transportation. Plus, I've never been fond of flying vehicles."
Sirius didn't press the offer and rolled the motorcycle into what looked like a recently expanded section of the house.
Phineas frowned. "You built a new garage?"
"More or less," Sirius replied. "It's more like a large room. But don't worry—I didn't hire anyone. The house-elves did all the work. I just chose the décor."
Phineas let out a relieved sigh. "Good. As long as you didn't bring outsiders in. This place is protected by a Fidelius Charm. If you'd hired anyone, you'd have had to reveal the location—and that would've broken the charm entirely."
Sirius chuckled. "Come on, I'm not that much of a reckless Gryffindor."
He paused, then asked, "Speaking of which—why did you even add a Fidelius Charm? Grimmauld Place already had strong concealment spells. Muggles can't see it, and even most wizards can't find it."
Phineas thought for a moment, then answered quietly, "After my parents died, and Regulus disappeared—most likely dead—you were thrown into Azkaban. The rest of the Black family either left the UK or went into hiding. Some smaller families started eyeing the headship, especially with only a child left to inherit. If I'd died back then, the Black name and everything it stood for would've collapsed."
He looked around the room. "So I asked Dumbledore to place the Fidelius Charm. I needed a place hidden so deeply that no one could find me unless I wanted them to. Somewhere to survive until I turned eleven and could enter Hogwarts."
Sirius's face darkened. "So you made a deal with Dumbledore."
Phineas nodded. "I did. It's not fully settled yet, but it wasn't a bad bargain. Later, when I realized the Dark Lord wasn't truly gone, this place became more than a hideout—it became a last refuge for me and those I trust."
Sirius fell silent, absorbing the weight of Phineas's words. The revelation that Voldemort might return brought to mind the old Order of the Phoenix. Their former headquarters in Hogsmeade had been compromised and destroyed by Death Eaters. They'd need a new base soon.
He glanced around the well-fortified house and hesitated, then turned to Phineas.
"You're thinking of making this the new Order headquarters?" Phineas said with a knowing smile.
Sirius lit up. "Exactly! It's perfect—secure, hidden, and—"
"No." Phineas cut in gently but firmly. "This is the ancestral home of the Black family. It's not ours to give away. And besides, I've put a lot of work into this place over the years. It's far too important to me."
Sirius looked disappointed, but Phineas continued, "However, there's another option. The family has an estate in Ottery St. Catchpole. It's vacant, has decent facilities, and can be warded for secrecy. It's a far better candidate for the Order's headquarters."
Sirius's eyes lit up. "Take me to see it!"
Phineas rolled his eyes. "You haven't been keeping up with the Black estate reports, have you? Besides, I just got back. We'll go the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, we're visiting the Malfoy family."
Sirius's expression soured. He had no interest in visiting the Malfoys and couldn't understand why Phineas insisted. In his view, the Elder Council and all the titles and politics meant little compared to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.
But Sirius had been cast out of the Black family when he was young. He'd lived with the Potters, who knew little of the Council's inner workings, and certainly hadn't shared any of that knowledge with Sirius.
Phineas noticed his reluctance but didn't comment. In his mind, Sirius's release from Azkaban was just a side effect of his real objective: securing the future of the Black family through careful planning and strategic alliances. And that included the Malfoys.
This was politics—a game of alliances, reputation, and legacy. The Black family couldn't afford to sit still.
Phineas's upcoming visit with the Greengrass family was another calculated move. He almost chuckled. That family had nearly collapsed thanks to their own eldest daughter. It was ironic—a house shielded by the Elder Council nearly ruined by internal scandal.
Shaking his head, Phineas stretched. "I'm off to rest. Call me for dinner. Afterward, we can chat about how you modified the bike. I'm not a fan of motorcycles, but I am curious about your enchantments. Honestly, after today's train ride, I'd have preferred Puff to carry me home. That Express is more torture than tradition."
Sirius chuckled but remained thoughtful. He still didn't want to visit the Malfoys. But Phineas was clearly building something important for the Black family. If his presence helped that succeed, then perhaps it was worth swallowing his pride.
Night fell, and the two of them rested after briefly tinkering with the bike's enchantments.
---
The next morning,
Malfoy Manor stood in the heart of Wiltshire, England—an ancestral estate passed down since the Malfoy line first gained nobility in the Muggle world. It was a grand, manor house with perfectly groomed gardens, ornate fountains, and even white peacocks roaming the grounds.
The wrought-iron gates shimmered slightly with illusion charms as Phineas and Sirius passed through, guided by Lucius, who was already waiting for them at the entrance.
Without delay, they entered the manor itself.
The foyer was vast and tastefully extravagant. Portraits of past Malfoys watched silently from the walls, and polished stone tiles were mostly hidden beneath opulent carpets. Above them, a crystal chandelier cast light onto the purple wallpaper and gilded mirrors.
At the center of the main hall stood an enormous table, used for both dining and diplomatic discussions. Dances, of course, were held elsewhere.
The meeting was about to begin.