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wunderkind

STUFF GOES IN HERE

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From:

jurisimpudent

Well, I'd try to run away, I suppose.

[He pulls at another blade of grass and confesses unhappily:]

I don't have my apparition license yet. I'm - I haven't had my seventeenth birthday yet.

[A pause, and then he shrugs.]

I suppose the hall will have an anti-Disapparition jinx on it anyway, won't it.

From:

doggedly

[Sirius stares at him, blankly, for a moment--and then he makes a noise of disgust, shoving his fingers through his hair.]

Merlin's beard. This is pathetic. Yes, the hall will have an anti-Disapparition jinx on it. And it will be full of witches and wizards who will bloody hamstring you before you get two paces out on that merry run of yours.

I'm not even plotting this and I'm doing a better job of it than you.

From:

jurisimpudent

[Edgeworth frowns up at him.]

Well, I - I'd have done more research before actually going in. Bear in mind that I've only known about this for -

[He has no idea how long. He doesn't know how long their minds were joined up...Five minutes or an hour or any amount of time in between.]

A - comparatively short amount of time. So I think I'm doing all right. I came up with the plan to impersonate you, didn't I? And I got information from you.

From:

doggedly

[But Sirius' shoulders immediately hunch at that reference. Information, it wasn't just information--there was loads more to it--and he scowls, blackly, taking a sharp drag on his cigarette--]

On purpose. That's what you set out to do, obviously, get information from me. It wasn't that your spell cocked up-- look, I'm telling you, they expect shit at that party. If anything happens, that's where it'll happen, and they'll all be there to tear you to pieces. They're waiting for it. They want it.

From:

jurisimpudent

[Frustration drives him to ask:]

Then what should I do? Really, what should I do. Because if I wait, if I do nothing, that'll be another - ten dead. Hundred dead. Thousand dead, depending on when the next opportunity is.

From:

doggedly

[He huffs a laugh that's equally as frustrated--though it's bitter irritation that stands out most clearly.]

Yeah, and if you do what you're planning, that's just one dead, but then those ten, those hundred--those thousand--they die as well anyways.

Be clever. Difficult for a Gryffindor, I know. But be clever. Merlin, I can't believe I'm telling you anything, I ought to hand you over to them, save you the trouble of doing it yourself--

From:

jurisimpudent

[Edgeworth doesn't react to that last threat, though. After so much time inside Sirius' head, he knows that's an idle comment - something to save face, to try to sound tough.

After a moment - ]

I - I would need your cooperation if I took it to Dumbledore. [A pause, and then - only because Sirius already knows, because that had been a constant anxiety churning at the back of his mind - ] You would be free to report my conduct, of course. I would get in quite a great deal of trouble for it.

From:

doggedly

[He looks over at Edgeworth so quickly he could get whiplash from it. There's a horrible, ringing silence, and then, abruptly, roughly:]

No.

From:

jurisimpudent

If I went to him, and you came with me, you'd be able to control the...flow of information.

[He knows, if he were an Auror - a proper, brave, ruthless Auror - that would be a threat. It's up to you to control this, that's what this would be. It's on you to ensure this doesn't turn uglier than it already has. You can keep your family from danger - but only if you minimize it now. But instead, the statement is tentative. He's just being honest, genuinely trying to help him.]

Because if I go to Dumbledore, it's going to come back to you anyway.

From:

doggedly

[He reads that threat there. He's been taught, to find threats, to know when something someone is saying could mean something more. To look between the layers. That's part of it, because you have to know what people are saying about you, what they think of you--

And he's not particularly convinced that Edgeworth would follow through. It's a threat, but it might not be one he could necessarily carry out.

His mouth is set in a hard line, almost mutinously so.]

So it comes back to me. And I don't have to tell Dumbledore shit, either. There's no law that says I do.

From:

jurisimpudent

[And Edgeworth turns his head to the side, looking firmly away from Sirius. Quietly:]

And if Dumbledore takes it to the Ministry? Or if I do?

[Because the Ministry is desperate. That much is well known. Edgeworth admires them, truly - of course he does; he wants to work with them, to help them catch Dark wizards - but their tactics are...Even he cannot defend them. Even he, with his zealous hatred of Dark magic and Muggle-killers, can't defend some of the actions they're rumored to have taken. The torture of suspects, supposedly, with the Cruciatus curse. The alliance with the Dementors. If Sirius has access to information that the Ministry wants - and the Ministry will be desperate to get it - they will not be kind.]

From:

doggedly

[And he knows that, too--better than most might. His family has always been suspected of Dark business, underhanded dealings. The Ministry loathes his family--or that's the muttered word that goes about at family parties. There's a sense of paranoia, of deep betrayal--after all they've done for the Ministry, the donations, the support--]

My name's still worth something.

[It's a gamble. But it's true.]

The Ministry isn't as pure as you'd like it to be. [And then, more honestly:] I can't.

From:

jurisimpudent

[And because Sirius knows all his secrets already, everything about him, Edgeworth speaks more honestly than he would with any other:]

I don't think anyone who makes compacts with Dementors can be called pure.

[He says that quietly, sadly; then he shakes his head. Moving on from that - ]

What if I...What if we made it seem as though I had you under the Imperius curse? Your family couldn't... [But he shakes his head a moment after; if that were the case, the Ministry would stop it at once; they'd not permit such a thing.] Or if you...went into hiding. Perhaps if you pretend to have fled - Then the Ministry won't be able to call on you.

From:

doggedly

I'm not a fucking coward.

[He practically spits that out. Every bit of this conversation is reminding him of how much he knows about Edgeworth--and how much Edgeworth, conversely, knows about him. It's almost unfair, to be laid so bare.

But he isn't a coward. Edgeworth will know that. He is many things, but he's not going to hide.]

And I'm not selling my family out because you think it's the right thing to do, because you want to-- assuage your conscience or play the hero or whatever you're looking to do here, exactly.

Got to the Ministry if you want. Go to Dumbledore. But you're doing it alone. I told you, I'm not playing your inside man.

From:

jurisimpudent

[He wants to protest it's not about his conscience; he wants to protest that it's not about heroics. But it is, and it is; it's more than that, as well, yes, but at its core it is about the way he failed Dad, and the way he needs to not fail anyone else.

But what does it matter why he's doing it? Because it is the right thing to do. It absolutely is. And there's one point - ]

This isn't selling your family out. It would be - saving them from becoming - [What's a term that Sirius would hate quite a lot - ] Servants.

From:

doggedly

[It's a term that certainly gets his attention, anyways. He looks over at Edgeworth, eyes narrowed.]

Servants. To who, exactly.

From:

jurisimpudent

[And Edgeworth sees that Sirius is focused on him; he responds by looking away, trying to seem casual.]

How do you think it will end, Black? With Voldemort. He destroys all of us, the Muggles and the Muggle-borns - removes us from the world or enslaves us - and then, what? He tips his hat, you tip yours, and the Blacks return to their rightful place in boardrooms and dinner parties? That's not how men like him operate. Join with him now, and ten years down the road, when his ends are accomplished, you and your father and your brother will find yourselves his thugs.

The Black name will be of no consequence in his new world. He doesn't care about names. Because he's not a Malfoy or a Carrow or a Yaxley; he doesn't give a damn about ensuring the Pure-bloods live in glory and prosperity. He cares about getting power and crushing Muggle-borns. And he will drive all of you, with your fine blood, to death to do it; he'll sacrifice the heirs of all the fine families, not caring about the continuation of that name; and if somehow your family survives this war entire, even if your line remains intact, you'll just be any other servant of Voldemort - just with a few more signet-rings than the others.

[He nods tightly to the silver that weighs down Black's hand.]

From:

doggedly

[He stares at Edgeworth through the whole of that little speech; he lets him get through it. It's a stare that grows more incredulous the longer it's fixed on Edgeworth, until--at the conclusion, there's a brief, ringing silence--and then Sirius barks a laugh, pushing his hand over his face. The rings in question are cold against his skin; he tries not to show the sudden twist of revulsion that feeling inspires.]

And you know all of this how.

[But before he can answer, properly, Sirius leans forward, his eyes dark.]

Because I think you're talking out of your arse. If he cares about blood, about keeping muggles and mudbloods separate from us--then he's got to care about names as well. That's what purebloods are. They're names, and houses--not that you'll ever understand that.

From:

jurisimpudent

Muggles have names and houses as well, you know. There are nonmagical people who are every bit as worked up about their lineage as all of you are. All this elitism has nothing to do with magic; it's just having your nose in the air -

[But that's ultimately not an argument he's going to win against Sirius Black, and not an argument that it would help him to win. He's gotten a rise out of Sirius; that much is clear, and he needs to push his advantage, not get tied up in yet another argument over his inferiority.]

He doesn't do this because he loves Purebloods. He does this because he hates Muggles. If he were doing this to help all of you, he'd be striking at the Ministry, taking it over, giving all of you positions of importance. He'd be recruiting soldiers amongst the half-bloods or sending out Imperiused Muggle-borns to fight on the front lines. Instead, he's using all of you - getting you killed, at times - just to kill Muggles. Often at random.

You're useful tools, the lot of you, because you're rich and you're connected and you're desperate to reclaim what you lost. But once the dust settles, you'll just be serving him. You'll be down on bended knee before Lord Voldemort. You won't be bribing Ministers or sitting on boards, because all infrastructure that allows any voice but Voldemort's will have been smashed to pieces.

From:

doggedly

[The worst part about the argument is that it is likely true, truer than Sirius would care to consider. He has no real love for Voldemort, no real love for his followers--not his cousins, not even his own brother (not a follower yet, but dying to become one). All he wants is to be left alone. If he has to be heir to the House of Black to do it, then he will. If he has to play this part, completely, he will do it, and detach himself, and find meaning elsewhere.

But he isn't stupid. Voldemort is madder than he seems--the fervent adoration of his followers is testament enough to that. They would do anything for him. So that makes them disposable, just as Edgeworth says.

Damn him for making sense, Sirius thinks, furiously, and stares down at his hands for a moment before he jerks his gaze up to Edgeworth.]

But we'll be better off than you and your lot. Bent knee is better than dead. That's what they'll say.

[It lacks conviction; that second bit helps strip even more conviction away. Because it isn't better. Because Sirius' pride is a great thing, and when he makes a noise of disgust, it isn't necessarily intended for Edgeworth alone.]

It's a pretty speech. But it won't sell. Not to them.

From:

jurisimpudent

What about to you?

[The gaze he turns on Sirius is an unsentimental one. Because it's Sirius who concerns him. The rest of them - the thought of killing them gives him real distress, yes, but the thought of seeing them in court does not. They might not have murdered Muggles yet, but more likely than not many of them have; it's just a trial which Miles wants, and evidence. Once their guilt is established, he'll be glad to see those Dark bastards shut up for all eternity.

But Sirius isn't them. He's not anything like them. There's a core of goodness in him, of bravery and joy, which he hides thoroughly. If it had been Sirius Black at Dad's home that day, he'd have turned on whomever he was with and stopped them killing him. If it's Sirius Black who joins up with the Death Eaters, he'll end up backing out within a week, getting himself killed. Miles knows that as surely as he knows that the likes of Bellatrix Black would not.

And so it's Sirius he wants to reach. It's Sirius who's worth reaching. Even if he doesn't become an ally to them, even if they don't get any material advantage out of him - at the very least, he has to be kept away from Voldemort.]

You'd sooner die than bend your knee. You said it yourself: you're not a coward.

From:

doggedly

[It isn't fair, how well Edgeworth knows him. They were bloody enemies one minute, and now they know each other nearly inside and out--or else they can guess at one another, make conjectures that are unfortunately incredibly true.

That's one just there. Sooner die than bend a knee. Yeah, it's true. That's him. Stupid and proud, willing to do what he has to, to preserve the family name--but like hell he's going to let them break him, use him, ruin him. These thoughts run hot through his head, quick; he fights them down.]

What exactly are you trying to convince me of, Edgeworth?

From:

jurisimpudent

[What indeed? To be a spy? The thought that Black would - the thought that Black is even capable of acting subtly, out of subterfuge - is a bit absurd. Even if his pride would allow it, his nature would not.

So what, then?

He's quiet a moment. Then he looks over and answers honestly, frankly, and simply. No grand plans, not even any real advantage gained - just a single, solitary hope. For the sake of Sirius Black, who might be a Pureblood but who's still a person.]

Join our side. Not as a coward, not as a sneak. As yourself. Join with us.

From:

doggedly

[He stares back at him--blank at first, and then his expression takes on a bit of actual true confusion. The longer the stare goes on, the more confused it gets, before it sharpens back toward incredulity--but there was a moment, there, where Sirius had no answers, no idea of what was being asked of him--and why.

It's a trick, he thinks, but he doesn't know why he would be tricked. A trap, then. But there's no why to that, either.

He barks another laugh, uncertainty clear on his face.]

You're joking.

From:

jurisimpudent

[I don't joke is the stern response he'd give to most, but Sirius has been inside Miles' mind, has seen the memories of laughing around the kitchen table with Mom and Dad...No; Miles just doesn't joke with those whom he doesn't trust, and there is no one alive whom he truly trusts.

Instead, he doesn't have that clipped and ready response; all he has is a frown of his own uncertainty as he examines Black's clear confusion.]

Why would I be?

[And that's a real question. Even before Miles grasped the depths of Sirius Black, he'd still have acknowledged that Black would be an asset to most teams. His magical ability is undeniable.]