Disclaimer: Sometimes, it's better not to know.
Knowledge is Painful
Dumbledore looked up from his book when his favorite and most troublesome student burst into the room. Seemed like it was that time again.
"I want to have a word with you, Dumbledore!" Harry growled.
"Alright," the Headmaster agreed pleasantly. "Does now work for you or would you rather schedule something later?"
"We'll talk right bloody now and you'll answer me truthfully or this will be the last day I spend at Hogwarts," Harry barked back.
Albus asked, motioning for the boy to take a seat as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Is something wrong, Harry?"
"You're the Chief Warlock," Harry spat.
"I am," the old man agreed, leaning back in his chair.
"You have the power to get Sirius a trial," Harry continued.
"I do," Dumbledore agreed. "One which would no doubt prove his innocence."
"Why haven't you?" Harry demanded. "What possible reason could you have?!"
"It's to prevent him from gaining custody of you, of course," Dumbledore said calmly. "You see, Harry, as Sirius is a pureblood, it'd be almost impossible to prevent the Ministry from declaring him to be your guardian."
"Wha-" Harry stared at the old man dumbly, he'd suspected but for the old man to just admit it.
"I don't like knowing that an innocent man is on the run for crimes he hasn't committed, but it's better that than the alternative." He motioned towards his candy tray. "Lemon drop?"
"You're preventing Sirius from going free just to keep me with the fucking Dursleys?"
"Not to keep you with the Dursleys, to prevent Sirius from gaining custody," Dumbledore replied cheerfully. "Was that all?"
"How have you been able to keep this quiet for so long?" Harry asked, fearing that the old bastard had enough political power to sweep anything under the rug.
"Who says I have?" Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, this is the fourth time we've had this conversation in as many months if we count the last three of your fourth year and the tenth since you and Ms. Granger helped Sirius escape."
"But . . . but why don't I remember?"
"Because I oblivated you after each of our conversations on this topic," Dumbledore admitted calmly. "Try not to ask questions you can figure out for yourself, Harry, it's intellectually lazy. Remember, you can't rely on myself or Ms. Granger forever so it's better to develop good habits now."
"Well you won't this time," Harry spat, getting back a measure of rage. "I'm skilled enough at occlumency that my memory can't be modified anymore, it took all summer, but I had nothing but time while locked away with my so called relatives." The boy sneered at his nemesis, confident that he was important enough to the old bastard's plans that he wouldn't be harmed.
"Congratulations, my boy, it's a rare thing for someone twice your age to be so skilled," the old man said brightly. Dumbledore pulled a bottle and two glasses out of his desk. "I'll trust you to refrain from mentioning the fact that I offered you a celebratory drink to Minerva."
"I'm not touching anything you're offering," Harry sneered.
Dumbledore sighed. "Fawks, a tear for each glass please."
"Chirp." The phoenix hopped off his perch and onto the Headmaster's desk to comply with the request.
"That should neutralize any potions or poisons with the added benefit of preventing any hangovers for the next twenty four or so hours. Satisfied, Harry?"
"Only if I get to choose the glass," Harry said suspiciously.
"Of course, my boy, of course."
Harry waited until Dumbledore had taken a sip before he took one of his own. "This isn't bad."
"Cognac," the Headmaster said. "I get a couple bottles from Madame Maxime every year for my birthday. Just remember to keep this from Minerva, if she asks it was Highland Scotch I gave you."
"Um . . . alright," Harry agreed. "Why do you want to keep Sirius from gaining custody?"
"Why don't we let that subject rest until after you've finished your drink," Dumbledore said serenely.
"Why?" Harry demanded harshly.
"Because it's meant to be savored, not guzzled," Dumbledore explained. "So how are your classes coming?"
"Alright, I suppose," Harry said reluctantly. "New defense teacher is bloody useless."
"One of Minister Fudge's creatures," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid there's little I can officially do about her at the moment thanks to Cornelius' stubbornness. Unofficially, please inform the Weasley twins that I would be happy to aid them in their independent studies."
"I will," Harry agreed. "And I'm done."
Dumbledore refreshed his glass and returned the bottle to his desk, replacing it with another. "Still cognac, but of a much inferior grade to the first bottle," the old man explained. "Please feel free to help yourself to as much as you feel you need."
"The reason I am willing to do all within my power to keep Sirius from assuming guardianship is because I promised your mother that I would do so," Dumbledore stated. "She demanded I swear an oath to that effect as well as being quite clear about it in her will."
"If you would be so good as to summon your house elf?"
"Do you mean Dobby?" Harry asked.
A pop of displaced air announced the elf's presence. "Yes, Harry Potter sir?"
"I'm having the conversation with him about Sirius Black, Dobby," Dumbledore explained.
"Does Harry Potter sir want another look at his mummy Potter ma'am's will?" Dobby asked eagerly.
"Yeah, sure, Dobby, I guess," Harry agreed, feeling a bit lost.
The elf popped out and was back in a flash. "Here you are, Harry Potter sir."
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry mumbled. There, in black and white, and presumably in his mother's handwriting was the phrase; 'do not, under any circumstances allow my child to be raised by Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, or Peter Pettigrew, no matter what' followed by at least a dozen exclamation points. "But . . . but why?"
"Harry, Sirius is a wonderful person," Dumbledore said gently.
"But?" Harry prompted.
"But he's not exactly responsible," Dumbledore continued. "Within hours of being named your godfather, he attempted to use you as collateral for a bet."
"What?" Harry asked dumbly. "I . . . uh, what about Remus?"
"Remus was working as a . . . I believe the term is 'porn star' at the time," Dumbledore replied. "Not to mention his drug smuggling operation."
"Drug smuggling operation?!" Harry squeaked. "Remus?"
"Magic makes things much easier," Dumbledore agreed. "Peter was, in addition to being a Death Eater, a peeping tom, a flasher, and an underwear thief."
"I . . . my parents associated with these people?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Harry, one must learn to accept their friends as they are," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "Your parents knew their friends were good people despite the fact that they were drug smuggling porn stars or irresponsible enough to bet their godson on the result of a horse race. Try not to dwell on Peter, instead, you should take heart in the fact that they were correct about two of their friends."
"Tell me about my parents," Harry said, trying to remain calm. "Normal people don't associate with drug smuggling porn stars or . . . or the rest."
"Your father wrote, produced, and directed several of Remus' pornographic films and your mother-"
"Acted in them?" Harry squeaked.
"Oh heavens not," Dumbledore chuckled. "Lily would never do such a thing."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, tremendously relieved. "It'd mean cheating on my dad."
"Rest assured, Harry, your mother would have never cheated on your father with other men. The very thought of Lily doing such a thing," Dumbledore laughed. "Was there anything else you wished to know about your parent's friends?" the old man asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, did . . . wait, what do you mean with other wizards?"
"I'm not sure what you're getting at, Harry, I . . ." the old man sighed. "Your mother had a pet project she liked to work on. She said she wanted to do her part to improve pureblood society."
"How did she go about it?" Harry asked nervously.
"By seducing and impregnating pureblood women," Dumbledore admitted. "You see, she had this spell that allowed her to transfigure herself a working pair of male genitalia and-."
"What?!" Harry felt faint.
"Let's just say that I'm not at all sure your friend Ron's sister really was the first Weasley female born in generations for example."
"Ginny's my sister?!"
"It's likely," Dumbledore agreed. "To be honest, I've also wondered about your friend Ms. Granger. Lily also mentioned something about a project to increase the number of muggle born entering magical society."
"Hermione's my sister too?!"
"Only possibly," Dumbledore interjected. "The main thing you need to take from this is that it's best to avoid any girls less than three or so years younger than you are if you want to avoid becoming what your mother called a proper pureblood."
"Yeah." Harry was glad he was sitting down, the boy absently leaned forward to top his glass off with the bottle the Headmaster had so thoughtfully provided. "Is there anything else you've been hiding from me?"
"Hiding? No. There are, however, several things that I've been obliviating from you at your request every time you've learned them," Dumbledore replied. "Let's see, the main thing was that Dobby has bonded to you and is your elf."
"Why'd I ask you to do that?" It couldn't just be to make his possible half sister easier to deal with.
"Upon being bonded, house elves tell their new masters all the duties they carried out for their old masters so that their new masters are able to use fully use them," Dumbledore explained.
"So apparently Lucius is not sexually interested in his wife," Dumbledore replied, taking another sip of his drink. "He had Dobby wank him, fill a turkey baster, and ordered him to use it to impregnate Narcissa."
"Oh," Harry said. "I guess I can see why I wouldn't want to know that."
"The picture will become even more clear when you learn what happened next," Dumbledore continued. "House elves are experts at interpreting orders. Dobby took the turkey baster and jammed it up the backside of a chicken named he named Narcissa."
"Dobby had to smash his testicles with a hammer for punishment after Narcissa chicken didn't get pregnant," the house elf said mournfully. "Still worth it to keep more bad Malfoys from the world," he added with a grin. Sure it'd hurt, but any amount of pain was better than an addition to the Malfoy family and it wasn't like the damaged parts didn't grow back in a day or two.
"I . . . what, Draco's not a Malfoy? Then . . . no," Harry gasped. "Please, please don't tell me."
"Yes, Harry, I'm afraid that it's quite likely Draco is your half brother as well." The old man's eyes twinkled. "And since you've become so skilled in the mental arts, there are a number of secrets I can divulge."
Harry put down his class, grabbed the bottle by the neck, and did his level best to drain it as quickly as he could.
AN: Just thought I'd try my hand at the whole Dumbledore oblivation story line.