Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 85: Sirius Black, Dog of War (Part 3) (Patreon)

Chapter 85: Sirius Black, Dog of War (Part 3)

“We need to leave,” Sirius told Agathe as he slipped back into the command tent, who shot him a searching looking. It was shared by Dallaire, and a few other aides who hadn’t yet left.

“Why? What’s happened?” she demanded to know.

“Coup forces with, shall we say, ‘special’ tactics like my own are going to be coming after you and your family,” Sirius warned the Prime Minister.

“Special tactics… there are others who can do as you do?” she asked, and Sirius nodded.

“There are quite a few of us. Enough to be a problem. So, in order to ensure your safety, we need to go. Now,” the animagus declared.

“We are more than capable of protecting her!” a UN agent declared, annoyed at Sirius poking his nose in.

“You aren’t. You really aren’t,” Sirius snorted.

“What about my family?” she asked, and he paused, thinking it over.

“If they are sending ‘special forces’ after you, they’ll definitely go after your family, too. In that case… I think we should send them to safety before anything else."

“Yes! Thank you,” Agathe said in relief.

“Let’s go find them,” he said, and they left the tent to go find the husband and kids, ignoring the demands from Dallaire to explain what was going on.

The UN base was filling up with a lot of displaced Kigali citizens as the chaos within the city spread, so the streets were packed. In fact, it was for this very reason that Sirius was given a hint that something was wrong as he and Agathe pushed and shoved their way through.

A Rwandan man, dressed like any other refugee, was walking through the crowd, and the people, UN and locals, walked around him, unconsciously parting to let him through. They did not notice him at all, and didn’t shove, spit, or swear at him for getting in their way.

“Shit!” Sirius swore, realizing that the person wasn’t just being ignored, they were going unnoticed by the Muggles around them. A potent Muggle Repelling charm had been cast upon their body, allowing them to move through the camp without detection.

Disillusionment or even a Notice-Me-Not would have worked just as fine. Even better, since those spells could force even magical folk to not see the user coming. But the Hutu assassin was overly confident that there would be no magical forces on guard and had used the bare minimum to sneak inside.

He was completely oblivious to the Transfiguration spell that slammed into him, turning him instantly into a rock. It then got Accio’ed over before anybody could trip over it and disrupt the enchantment.

‘Gotten a lot of practice with Transfiguration spells recently,’ he thought with a snort. ‘If only James could see me now. He was always Minerva’s golden boy in the class and never let me forget it.’

“Wh-what was that?!” Agathe gasped as she saw a stone just appear out of nowhere and drop to the ground before shooting into Sirius’ hand. “Where did that rock come from?!”

“That used to be an assassin, one of the ones I told you about,” Sirius warned her. “Had to transform him. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like he had any friends. We need to hurry, though.”

She nodded weakly and walked a little faster. Thankfully, Ignace wasn’t far, though he looked like he was having trouble wrangling the children. They were with a group of other refugees, tired and scared, but trying to stay cheerful for the kids nearby.

“Ignace, it’s time to go,” she said softly, pulling on his hand.

“Go? Go where?” her husband asked bitterly. “The city is infested and the roads are cut off. The military has encircled Kigali and won’t let us leave.”

“Luckily, I have a way out for you and the kids,” Sirius told him in a low voice, so just the two of them could hear.

“And what of the children here? What of the people we are leaving behind?” he asked pointedly, and Agathe gave Sirius a look. She was also invested in this and after a moment he sighed heavily.

“Shit. Fine, let me make a call,” he grunted, pulling out a Black Mirror. He called up Ed, who answered quickly.

“Sirius? What’s going on?” he asked sharply as soon as his face appeared.

“So far, it’s gone the way you said it would,” the animagus replied. “But, I got the Prime Minister here, along with her family, and a bunch of the government.”

“That’s a relief,” Ed sighed happily. “What’s the next step?”

“Well, the UN are about as useless as you feared. Coup forces also have Muggleborn mages assisting them in secret. Had to deal with two already. But now, we want to get them out. The Prime Minister won’t leave with me to find the RPF and set up a Government In Exile until her family is safe.”

“You have Portkeys,” Ed pointed out.

“Not enough, though,” Sirius replied. “They want… well, she wants me to help as many refugees get out of here as fast as possible.”

“That’s…” Ed muttered. “That’s going to be thousands of people. I was prepared for a dozen or so. A hundred, max.”

“If you can’t do it…”

“No, I can,” Ed said sharply. “While you were gone, I took care of the old man. He’s mine, now. I can use his resources to help.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Start sending them over to the warehouses. I will get people on them. Might have to transfigure them so they don’t take up space and cause a ruckus. Make it less suspicious for a bunch of refugees to show up. And it will buy me time to turn Sir Briar’s connections to my aide.”

“Yeah, I can transfigure them, it would make it easier,” Sirius promised. “Okay, get ready. I’ll start by sending a few over now along with the Prime Minister’s family.”

“Good. And Sirius… thank you. You’re doing good work.”

“I’ll be expecting hazard pay,” he partially joked, before disconnecting the call and turning to the couple who were staring at him with wide eyes.

“My boss said it’s okay, but there will be stipulations,” he informed them.

“Ah, yes, that makes sense,” Agathe said in a daze while Ignace muttered, “What devilry have we gotten involved with?”

It took some time and a few charms to befuddle minds, but soon the majority of the Tutsi and Hutu refugees in the camp were ready for transport. Some had been turned into marbles, as there wasn’t enough Portkey space to go around. Thankfully, Transfigured people didn’t interfere with the magic, so the pockets of the rest of the travelers could be stuffed with them for ease of transportation. These Transfigured refugees were joined by the Transfigured families of the Rwandan government officials he had rescued earlier, and would go to London with the rest.

“Alright, normally these are only supposed to be for small groups, so bunch up. Everyone has to share the rope,” Sirius warned, handing out jump ropes for the non-Transfigured people in the refugee camp to grab ahold of.

Many of them were confused and scared, but they did so, seeing that the Prime Minister’s family was doing the same, and Sirius took a deep breath before uttering the password.

“The Rose Garden will use its thorns to protect the innocent.”

With that code said, thousands of people who’d been crammed into the UN’s base suddenly vanished with a roar of displaced air.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Dallaire exclaimed, having come over earlier to see what was happening.

As much as he hated to do so, Sirius swiftly Obliviated his mind in a massive pulse that swept the camp and the surrounding areas. As far as anyone else was concerned, the refugees had been escorted to safety by a third party.

Only the Prime Minister remained unaffected by the mind wipe, and she stared at Sirius fearfully.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“Magic,” he replied. “Now, come on.”

He tossed out the magic carpet and after hesitating for a moment Agathe got on with the strange British gentlemen who’d saved her.

They then lifted off, departing the camp as the UN forces blinked and recovered from the daze of being brainwashed.

“My family…” she began as they flew away, but Sirius held out the mirror once more.

“Call Ed,” he requested, and a moment later and the young man’s face appeared, this time looking tired. There was a lot of shouting in the background, too. A few spell flashes as well, as the unruly were stunned or Obliviated.

“They’re all here and accounted for,” Ed said.

“Prime Minister Agathe wants to see her husband,” Sirius told him, before passing the mirror to her.

She took it gingerly, as if afraid it would explode like a live grenade, only to break out into a smile of relief when she saw her husband on the other end.

“Ignace! Are you alright?”

“I don’t know how, my love, but we’re in London!” he replied, shocked by the change of scenery.

The two spoke in low tones for a bit, reaffirming that both children were safe, and after a tearful goodbye, Agathe handed the mirror back to Sirius, who turned it off.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Just doing what was right,” Sirius replied, just as softly.

They flew out of Kigali’s airspace, hidden by concealment charms. Sirius played vigilante a bit more along the way, shooting – and destroying – as many checkpoints and pieces of genuine military hardware he could.

Jeeps, tanks, heavy weapon emplacements and ammo stores were left behind as smoking wrecks, the coup forces scrambling to find what had happened, only for a couple of Memory charms to make them believe the damage was done by faulty equipment and maintenance. It wouldn’t exactly last long, but it would cut down on the power the genocidal army could bring to bear.

“I will have to return to Kigali after dropping you off,” Sirius told her. “Of course, I’ll stick around to make sure you stay safe with RPF, but I still have tasks I need to do back there.”

Ed’s list had included a number of atrocities he could hopefully prevent, and he’d been given permission to send more refugees back to London in order to ensure as many of them survived as possible.

There was a lot of time on his hands as he flew towards the RPF lines, so Sirius couldn’t help but wonder if the way forward Ed proposed was the right one.

‘What are we going to do when everyone has magic?’ the animagus couldn’t help but wonder.

The Muggle world was… violent. Reading the history books Ed had provided showed him that. They were constantly fighting, quarrelling, and developing new ways to do so.

Oh, sure, wizards had been fighting each other and other species just as viciously at times, but their wars were spaced further apart and generally less bloody. The war against Grindelwald and Voldemort being exceptions.

Was it because the magical population was smaller? Or did it have to do with how long the magical folk could live? From what Sirius had overheard from Ed, the former Squib believed it was a combination of the two, along with a more interconnected world.

So, what would happen when every Muggle suddenly wasn’t a Muggle anymore?

They’d be able to see magic, bypass the typical wards, the force the magical world to integrate. Enormous, world-shaking ramifications. And when the next generation was born? They’d be able to use wands as well.

Would the Muggles turned mages make warfare even more destructive? How much chaos would erupt with these changes? Was it right to let the Muggles get their hands on something that would change everything?

However, Sirius knew from Ed’s warning that it wouldn’t be long until Muggles would notice the magical world. They couldn’t hide forever. In fact, the former Squib had shown Sirius examples of modern Muggle technology that could already pierce the veil.

Digital cameras could ignore most ward spells. So, while a Muggle wouldn’t be able to see the Leaky Cauldron, a photo of the place would reveal its existence. And Muggles had developed portable video recorders. There was nothing stopping a Muggle from using one of those to find warded areas and potentially force their way through.

Sonar, satellite imaging, the Internet… so many more things were coming and changing Muggle society. They weren’t going to stop inventing and improving. So, Ed’s idea to get in on the ground level while it was still possible in order to influence things and prevent too many leaks of the Statute until they could finish the ritual was the right one.

“Was it the right thing to do?” Agathe asked, breaking the silence.

“Eh? To leave?” Sirius asked.

“Yes. I… it feels like cowardice to run away while people are being murdered in their homes,” the Prime Minister bitterly spat out.

“You’re not running, it’s a strategic retreat,” Sirius told her. “Besides, it’s not like you could do anything if you did stay. Kigali is fucked and it’s the center of the coup forces. It’s not cowardice to know when you should leave.”

“I see. Then, may I ask… are there… are there a lot of you?” she wondered.

“Not as many as non-magicals,” he replied.

“Could the coup forces be using more magicals to influence things?” Agathe inquired.

“Most likely. From what I was able to learn, there are a lot of Hutu magicals who dislike the fact that the magical side of Rwanda is run by Tutsis,” Sirius informed her.

“They do?” she murmured.

“Yeah. Most magical societies aren’t exactly too influenced by modern Muggle, I mean, mundane politics. They tend to be more stable. Basically, anything before the 1700s in the magical world is the same as it is now,” Sirius said.

“Will the magical Tutsis – and that is not a phrase I’d ever have to say – take offense with me knowing?” Agathe asked.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s best that you keep you know this under wraps. They’ll probably wipe your memories of me and any magic if they find out. So, when we reach the RPF, I’ll have to make sure nobody notices me, because I will bet you a hundred galleons that they have a magical minder watching them.”

“That will make things difficult,” she muttered.

“Maybe a little. But it’ll work out,” Sirius assured her.

A few more hours of flying later, and they neared the militant revolutionary army’s main camp. Sirius’s carpet touched down rather far from it, as unlike the UN forces, these soldiers were a lot more likely to shoot first, ask questions later when a strange white man on a flying carpet appears.

At the same time, Sirius took out the remaining Transfigured government officials out of his pocket, and turned them back to normal one by one, doing quick memory modifications to make it seem like they had escaped Kigali while their children and families had been evacuated.

Agathe looked uneasy at how easily Sirius was able to do so, but it seemed to reinforce his warning to keep her mouth shut about magic, or else she could have the same thing happen to her.

Sirius then led the officials, many of whom were still in their pajamas, through the jungle towards the RPF’s front lines. It wasn’t long before the group was discovered by the patrolling Tutsi soldiers, who quickly surrounded them.

“Hands in the air!” one of them shouted, and everyone wisely did so, Sirius included.

“Who are you?” another rebel fighter demanded, but one of them nudged him in the side.

“Hey, don’t you recognize the woman there? That’s the Prime Minister!”

“Eh? I thought she was dead. The radios were all saying it,” a third rebel spoke up.

“Word of my death has been greatly exaggerated,” Agathe said primly. “I would like to speak with Kagame. We need to work together in order to take back Rwanda from Bagosora and stop the killings!”

Whispers and radio communications were undertaken, and after a bit, the collection of disheveled men and women were escorted through the jungles. They were led to a camp, with hundreds of other RPF soldiers gathered.

“Well, it is a surprise to see you alive,” Paul Kagame said, the leader of the RPF walking forward to stare at the Prime Minister.

“And while it would be a lie to say it is good to see you again, I am pleased to have a chance to take back our country,” Agathe replied. The two leaders stared at each other, sizing each other up, before Kagame snorted.

“Are you truly willing to work with me?” he asked sharply a moment later.

“I disagree with some of the things you’ve done, but you have an army, and working together we can stop the butchery,” Agathe stated. “I can give the RPF a sense of legitimacy, and we can force the UN and other countries to recognize us as the proper government. I am, after all, technically the president now.”

“True, true,” Kagame nodded. “So, say I am willing to support your return to Kigali and prop you up as President-in-Exile, what are you going to offer me?”

“Change,” the Prime Minister declared. “I am a woman of my word, and I will promise you here and now that laws will be made to end discrimination between ethnicity. There shall be rough roads to overcome. Wounds like what has happened here won’t fade easily. But I am not going to let Rwanda be ruled by racial ideologies or madmen. Rwanda cannot become yet another dictatorship. We stand to lose too much.”

Kagame looked at the woman standing defiantly before him, before nodding to himself. “Pretty words. Words won’t solve much, though. However, I am impressed you managed to escape from Kigali, and you rescued so many members of the moderate government.”

He then offered Agathe his hand. “Fine. We shall band together. I know you are a good woman who has worked to help us Tutsi, and having you on our side will be vital for our efforts.”

“Then we should have the Prime Minister do a radio announcement,” one of Agathe’s supporters said. “Let people know that the proper government does not condone these brutal acts, and the RPF is working with us to bring down that traitor Bagosora!”

“Not a bad idea,” Kagame mused.

“Agreed, we should do this together. A joint announcement,” Agathe said, looking towards Kagame, who seemed pleased by the offer to have his voice heard alongside hers. It was political, but for now, working together was important.

“Ah, before I forget… who is this man?” Kagame wondered, glancing at Sirius who just waved.

“Call me Agent Black,” Sirius said politely. “I was hired by third parties to protect the Prime Minister and ensure the genocide does not go as badly as it is predicted to become.”

“And how bad is it projected to be?” Kagame asked, a bit of morbid curiosity in his voice.

“A million dead in a hundred days,” Sirius said grimly. “Tutsi and Hutu sympathizers alike. The Coup forces will not win, but it will be bloody and Rwanda will be ravaged and ruined economically for decades to come.”

“Fuck,” the RPF leader grunted, looking disgusted. “That’s bad. Worse than I thought. How sure are you of this?”

“Best damn analyst I know is very certain this is what will happen,” Sirius said. “I’m going back to Kigali to help rescue as many people as I can, but the sooner you guys can start working together and coordinating a push to eliminate the presidential guard and coup-aligned forces, the better. I’ll do what I can to help, of course. Need something scouted out? Or enemy supplies destroyed? I’m your man.”

“You are willing to help, huh? Out of the kindness of your heart?” Kagame asked skeptically.

“The people I work for are interested in saving lives and stabilizing the country. Of course, I’m also not a cold-hearted bastard. I wouldn’t be able to stand by and watch this happen,” the animagus declared firmly.

“A man of conviction, eh? Could always use more of those,” Kagame mused. “Yeah, we can work together… so long as your bosses say you can.”

“Looking forward to it,” Sirius chuckled, before nodding at Agathe. “Stay safe, Prime Minister… Or, rather, I should call you Madam President, now.”

“Thank you again for getting our families to safety,” Agathe said, shaking his hand gratefully.

“Of course,” he replied, and walked away, leaving the RPF camp.

He made sure to quickly disillusion himself, then turned into a dog and scampered into the jungle, hiding from the rebel fighters who were trying to trail him discreetly.

He then circled around, returning to the camp. He cast a few protection and detection charms on the newly promoted president and her fellow government officials, and made sure nobody magical was spying on the RPF.

There weren’t any mages within them as far as he could see, but there were traces of magical interference here and there. Mind magic, mostly, but also tattered wards and broken enchantments alongside curse marks, hex-scars, and residue from jinxes.

‘Looks like there was fighting here. The Tutsi Purebloods clashed with the Hutu Muggleborn, no doubt. And the latter lost,’ Sirius mused.

It had happened last night from what he could tell, likely around the time that the coup was kicked off by Bagosora and his allies. A few well-placed Explosion curses could have crippled the RPF and given the coup forces time to rally. Without that happening, and with Agathe and Kagame working together, hopefully the civil war would end sooner, with fewer lives lost.

‘Best to make sure of it,’ Sirius thought to himself, and he quickly left on his carpet to return to Kigali. And, also, to blow up some presidential guard bases along the way, to soften them up for the rebel forces.

Without an accurate knowledge of where the Rwandan military forces actually were, Sirius had to rely on the age-old method ‘Fly around until he found something’ which worked, but was very slow.

He located several bases taken over by the coup forces and dealt with them by Vanishing the explosive components from the missiles and other explodey things. This rendered them utterly useless and didn’t cause massive damage to the surroundings, which was a plus.

For regular weapons, he ruined them by Vanishing firing pins, or fouling the guns with a couple Jamming jinxes. Normally, the Jamming jinx was meant to cause doors and drawers to jam, but it worked just fine on firearms as they’d learned while experimenting on their own gun-based projects.

Six vehicle depots were targeted as well, and he dealt with them in a similar manner by Vanishing spark plugs and other tiny components. Without them, the cars, jeeps, tanks, and motorcycles wouldn’t work until they got replacements. And with an uprising and civil war going on, that could take days if not weeks due to disruptions in the supply lines.

By the time he was done with the military targets around Kigali and Sirius returned to the city proper, it was almost evening, and he headed back to his hotel.

Nobody had broken into the Presidential Suite while he’d been gone, the wards and charms on the door and room had ensured that, but the building was now jam-packed with terrified refugees and foreign tourists.

‘I’ll have to work hard to get all the innocents out of the building,’ Sirius thought, feeling utterly tired at the thought of all the casting he’d have to do in the future. His own reserves were starting to flag as well, and he yawned loud before sinking onto the bed for a nap.

A loud knocking woke him up, and he grumbled a little at being disturbed, before realization about what was going on hit him.

‘Nobody should be knocking on my door!’ Sirius realized, eyes shooting open. He pushed himself up and checked his watch. 4 a.m. He’d slept through dinner and was now up before dawn.

A bit annoyed, he went to answer the door, and opened it, finding a Rwandan man in a blue robe looking back at him, a staff of wood and bone clutched in his right hand. The visitor looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes that spoke of a little sleep. He’d likely been awake since the coup started.

“Good evening… although I suppose now it is morning, isn’t it?” the man said in heavily accented English.

“Ah, I was wondering if you guys would show up at some point,” Sirius said, holding back a yawn. “You’re with the Rwandan Magic Council, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” the Tutsi wizard replied with a curt nod. “Your actions have not gone unnoticed.”

“I figured,” Sirius shrugged. “So, what can I do for you?”

“The presence of a British wizard has raised… questions,” the representative of the local magicals said. “Does you being here mean that the Confederation has decided to intervene in our personal matters? Is the Supreme Mugwump going to interfere with our sovereignty?”

“What makes you think I’m not a lone agent?” Sirius wondered, mostly out of curiosity.

“Hah! A lone agent would not have dozens of Portkeys on their person, or go out of their way to disable Hutu insurgents, both Muggle and magical,” the Tutsi snorted.

“Fair enough. But no, I’m here for the innocents. Just trying to get as many as I can out of here,” Sirius replied.

“Why?” the Rwandan asked, bewildered. “What does their survival benefit you?”

“If magic is used to kill Muggles, it will be noticed,” Sirius retorted. “The UN observers here will wonder how some people died, and that will cause problems. The Statute of Secrecy could be damaged, and I doubt you have enough Obliviators to mess with everyone in the country.”

“The blue hats are no matter,” the wizard scoffed. “And if the Statute is your mission here, why are you interfering so openly?”

“I told you, the innocent lives I can save are my mission. Keeping the Statute alive is merely common sense,” Sirius stated. “Now, come on. Why are you really here?”

“Very well,” the mage huffed, stomping his staff onto the floor and releasing a burst of magic that wrapped around Sirius. “You have overstayed your welcome. Like the rest of the foreigners currently in our country, you are ordered to depart. We have Portkeys ready for you…”

“No need,” Sirius cut in. “I have my own.”

The Tutsi official glowered at the disguised British wizard, but nodded curtly. “So be it. You have until six a.m. to leave the country before the curse upon you activates.”

“Two hours, huh,” Sirius muttered. “Fine. I’ll be gone in one.”

The man nodded and popped away, using some sort of transportation spell that was similar to Apparation but was subtly different.

‘Hmm… Leyline traversal? No, not quite. Must be something else… tied to the staff he was wielding, no doubt,’ Sirius mused as he looked at the area where the man had just been. ‘Ah! Now I see! He is using the attunement to the land! So long as he is within a territory under his control that is connected to his staff, he can go anywhere within it, ignoring most wards in the way.’

A clever use of staff magic, in his opinion. That meant that the man he’d just met was the local wizard in charge of Kigali, or at least a part of the land the city itself rested on.

Of course, just because it was impressive didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed at being slapped with a curse out of nowhere. It was quite rude!

A quick examination of the magic binding him revealed he could break it… but not easily. It was easier to obey and leave the country.

‘After all, the curse is going to force me to leave before six. As long as I comply, I can come back after that time limit is up without the curse affecting me,’ Sirius noted.

It was honestly a rush job, only hard to undo because of the method used to put it upon him. Like he’d noted, staff magic had its advantages, and one such was enforcing curses or other enchantments. So long as he stayed within the territory the staff was attuned to, he couldn’t break the curse in a timely manner.

‘The poor wizard must be dead on his feet if he forgot to add ‘and don’t come back!’ to the curse’s requirement,’ the animagus mused. Seriously, that was Cursing 101!

…Or maybe he just had a skewed sense of the do’s and don’ts of cursing people thanks to dear old Mum and Pops teaching him that, mostly by casting said curses on him as ‘practical lessons.’

Either way, he could just leave and come back. Easy-peasy!

‘Still better make sure I have a Plan B just in case,’ Sirius mused. Then, after closing the door to his room, he uttered “Kreatcher” out loud.

The ratty old House Elf appeared, scowling at Sirius, but notably not as deeply or bitterly as before. Eliminating the Horcrux that his brother Regulus had given his life to try and destroy had earned Sirius some good will from the Black Family House Elf. Add in finally establishing a proper Bond with the dying elf, and it ensured that Kreatcher was utterly loyalty to Sirius Black alone.

“Yes? What does master want?” Kreatcher demanded tiredly. Had he been sleeping? Eh, whatever.

“Kreatcher, pack my bags and clean the room,” Sirius ordered. “Then, in an hour, I want you to teleport me back to Grimmauld place.”

“It will be done,” the elf declared.

“Then! An hour and a half after that, pop me back here,” Sirius requested. “In the meantime, you are not to leave the hotel. You may, however, deal with any Muggles who are carrying weapons and trying to break into the building as you see fit.”

Kreatcher looked up sharply at that, trying to find some trace of trickery in his master’s face, but Sirius was serious, and a cruel smile flickered across the elf’s face.

“Yes, master!” the House Elf said gleefully.

‘Boy, I sure hope I don’t end up regretting this,’ Sirius thought as the room was cleaned up properly and everything was put into its proper place. Unleashing an evil old elf whose idea of ‘fun’ was dusting the severed and stuffed heads of his fellow elves on the world was probably not a good thing… but then again, they were murderers, so, eh.

When the time came to leave, Sirius was sent hurtling across the continent via magic, appearing back inside Grimmauld place in a single dizzying second.

“Going to have to get a new disguise,” he muttered to himself. “And I should call up my reinforcements. We will need to work double-time now that the Rwandan Council has their eyes on me and any other magic users in the country.”

They would not be amused by his trickery of coming back to interfere with them, but it was the only way to save more lives.

After his time there, Sirius was fully onboard with Ed’s desire to rescue the people. Oh, he still had doubts about giving everyone magic, but this? This was unequivocally ‘good’ and he was eager to do it.

Maybe there was a bit of rebelliousness to it, knowing dear old mum would absolutely hate the idea of using magic to save Muggles, but hey, guess what? He didn’t care what she thought!

As he prepared, he double-checked the list Ed had given him regarding a head-up on the worst of the atrocities that would be perpetuated if he couldn’t stop them in time. He was not going to let any of it happen. They deserved better!

‘Oh, James. If you were here, you’d be right beside me,’ Sirius thought, nostalgia entering his mind as he thought about his best friend. ‘And Remus and Lily would be helping as well. This sort of thing… it’s right up our alley, isn’t it? Saving people and doing good… We could never just sit around and let other people fight our battles.’

Voldemort was not going to come back, not if they had anything to say about it. And after the genocide was stopped… there were always more villains out there that needed to be fought. Evils to be opposed.

‘You know, I think I finally found my calling,’ Sirius thought to himself as he grabbed some magical items to help hide his presence from the Rwandan mages. ‘You’d be proud of me… right?’

The dead could not speak, but Sirius had a feeling they approved all the same, and with a determination burning in his heart, he prepared to return to the fires of war. He would save them. Nothing would be able to stop him from doing so!