#in such a cruel situation she was in lily could only demand that she simply Act Better and more conventionally to keep from miscarrying

[llycaons]

SNOW FLOWERRRRR

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

Sanditon Season 2: all the news & my thoughts

So, we're getting not one but two new seasons of Sanditon! After a year of tremendous effort on behalf of the Sanditon sisterhood who kept the fandom alive, we'll be looking at a new season. Although I think the biggest thank you probably goes out to Bridgerton, which showed that romance, regency, a diverse cast and butts are a perfect mix to lure audiences.

I want to take this moment to reflect on what I think we'll win, what we'll lose and what we can expect in the future.

1. No Sidlotte HEA

This is probably the most heartbreaking salty news we could get. But I know Theo James, he likes new projects. And after divergent's disaster, I can't blame the boy for not wanting to hang onto another franchise. As a fanfic writer, although mainly an Esther/Babington one, I broke my head for over a year on how to get Sidlotte together. I had to imagine the grandest schemes to get them together. Tom needed 10 000 pounds in less than a month. Even Babington was probably not worth that much. That's over 6 million in today's money if adjusted to inflation. Regency era's England's top 1-2% made that in a full a year, and most of that is probably in assets and investments. And they don't just get to keep that money, most used a good chunk of it to keep their estates running and to pay their staff. Anyone know someone who has a casual 6 million lying around?

There's only two realistic solutions: either have Eliza die: which would be cruel and take years (unless you kill her in childbirth 9 months in), or create a grand scheme that would take months and see Sidney, Crowe and Babington actively work hard on their 'business' while in the meantime Charlotte, Lady Denham and Lady Susan get everyone including the prince regent to come to Sanditon. I kind of accepted they would have a hard time getting out of that plot twist. It was likely that Sidlotte could not be endgame.

Personally, I never felt a strong connection to Sidlotte, and had hoped that Charlotte, like Jane Bennet, would go to London with Lady Susan to recover from her heartbreak, and I kind of hoped James Stringer would eventually go down there for his apprenticeship, where a sort of Captain Wentworth-like situation would come to exist where he is a young man trying to make something of himself. I know Charlotte didn't love him. But I also knew that Charlotte wanted adventure and perhaps needed to grow as a person. But in the new season she'll probably be a bit jaded, closed off, and depressed. And will probably need a softer more available man. Growing up goes with swinging to extremes. She was an open optimist at the beginning, and eventually turned to the opposite, not letting her emotions shine through and being very guarded (@miss-holly-goes-lightly did a wonderful post on this). Adulthood is finding a good balance again.

So while I am saddened, because this brings along a long set of questions like: "Does Sanditon still take place in Sanditon then?" "Where will Sidney live, will he then live in London with his wife?" "Why doesn't he come help his brother the next season or visit his family, as we know Tom will make a mess of things" The show will have to answer these questions in a believable manner.

2. No Beaufort twins

Mollie Holder said on her instagram that the Beauforts wouldn't be returning. This leads to quite a few questions like: where will Georgiana stay then? What will be happening to Mrs. Griffiths? Will Georgiana be her sole ward while the Beaufort's absence is explained as them having married or having become governesses?

3. Who remains aboard

Rose Williams is definitely on board. It's also pretty certain Tom will be there again. Lady Denham is also likely to return. The child actors and their parents were willing, but worried about their increasing age a few months back. Old Stringer said he'd have loved to be part of Sanditon again and to see it continue, but he's well... dead on the show so he won't return. So who will join Charlotte?

Leo Sutter might not return. He plays an important role in the next spin-off of vikings. Vikings has a new season each year. On top of that he's currently busy recording Gateway 6. We don't know how long that might take. And perhaps by the time filming ends he's required for the next season of the Walhalla series. Leo Sutter is a rising star, he might not even have the time to return. Especially for two seasons. At his age and point in his career, he needs to cement his name, or he'll remain b-list while he has a-list potential. So he might have to give up Sanditon for his career. It's sad, I'd love a Stringer/Charlotte future where they both grow to being suitable for each other while becoming people confident in their own abilities. But in the end, I would be alright with it, as Charlotte didn't express immediate interest in him. Writing him out would also be fairly easy, they could just write that despite thinking he had to stay home after his father's death, he went to London in the end under Charlotte's encouragement. Perhaps he could then come back for a guest appearance.

Crystal Clarke will reprise her role as Georgiana. Clarke has, since Sanditon, spoken out about the sometimes tone-deaf director and scriptwriters. She had to step in a few times to make sure Georgiana was done justice. She also said she hoped Georgiana, if the show was continued, would get the space to breathe and be independent, instead of playing a minor role as token black friend of Charlotte while under the control of Sidney. It will be complex to have her return without involving Sidney, as his character will have to be written out. I imagine this can be done with a timejump, but the timejump would have to be 4 years to make Georgiana 'of age' as she is 17 in the show. They'll probably place her under someone's care while saying Sidney is "still her guardian, but away". Georgiana is, in my opinion, an essential part of Sanditon. Bridgerton showed the world wanted to see diverse faces. Austen wrote a black character as a wealthy and desirable woman. They simply have to do more with her in the future. Clarke will reprise her role, this time with black writers to do justice to her character. I'm excited to see what will be done.

The actor who plays Arthur, Turlough Convery, is a good actor and mostly in period pieces. However he's never overly in demand, and usually stays with shows for multiple seasons. I think he's quite willing to come back and it means Georgiana would have a friend. I also hope they delve into his character, especially after his "I don't think i'll ever get married".

Matthew Needham and Mark Stanley, Crowe and Babington, are Sidney's best friends. It will be hard to have them come back without them explaining why Sidney is never with them. But I believe they would work well as a duo: the drunk and the one braincell are a fun dynamic. Both are not much in demand, despite that I quite like them as actors. So we might see them returning. Their return would also be vital for the return of a few other characters:

Their return would also be vital for the return of a few other characters:

Charlotte Spencer's Esther Denham is married to Babington. Without Babington returning, how can Esther? And vice versa. Their storyline was also the main romance for me and a big part of the last few episodes. They kinda need to return. Babington is also Sanditon's access point to high society. To cash in on Bridgerton's success they should search that royal connection. Babington is friends with the Prince Regent. On top of that he has the most money. If he hosts a party and Charlotte is invited, this is where they get those grand-bridgertonesque scenes.

Lily Sacofsky's Clara had a romantic subplot with Crowe. In their final unaired scene they went to London together. She could return. However, the chances are quite slim. Clara is in London, and Sanditon takes place in Sanditon. Unless Lady Susan takes Charlotte to London for a while and she meets Clara and Edward there, cooking up a plan to get back at Esther and Lady Denham.

4. Predictions

There's no words to describe the popularity of Bridgerton, so this WILL influence Sanditon. I predict: more sex, more scandal, and even more ahistorically modern ideas and characters, multiple female characters and multiple male characters that each get screentime and their separate storylines and developments like in bridgerton, instead of just Charlotte's pov we follow. Glamorous scenes. And more POC.

The season will start with a timejump in all likeliness (as it is easier so they don't have to focus too much on her grieving). Charlotte will catch us up with what has happened while perhaps narrating over some letters she's written to georgiana and lady susan. She'll return to Sanditon during a summer. Sanditon will have been partially rebuilt with Eliza's money, and many activities will be planned. Sanditon will be in some kind of trouble. Charlotte will still be a planner. Her being very actively involved in things and having a vision was one of the most alluring parts of her character. In the books there was a rival town Tom hated. That might be a bit tricky to adapt so they could introduce some local competition for attention around Sanditon. A local duke hosting parties could overshadow tom's events. Or the social season in London could lure everyone there instead of to Sanditon. Charlotte will try to help Tom with this while getting reacquainted with everyone still in Sanditon, and hearing about the reasons why Sidney/Esther/Stringer/The Beauforts (to be seen) aren't in the show anymore. She'll also rebuild her relationship with Georgiana.

Then one day for an event Charlotte will invite Lady Susan, who will invite her to the London season to get over her heartache à la Jane Bennet. Charlotte will join Lady Susan to lure a crowd to Sanditon. There, she'll be confronted with some of her demons of the past season. Perhaps a pregnant Eliza Campion makes an appearance to rub it in Charlotte's face. In Sense & Sensibility Margaret discovered Willoughby's relationship in a most shocking manner in an almost public setting. Sanditon likes to nod at all Austen books so this could be a nod at that book when Charlotte discovers unpleasant news in a public manner. Charlotte will congratulate her and wish them happiness, and afterwards either a girlpower moment could happen with Lady Susan or Georgiana supporting her, or a love moment. Mrs Campion has tried to talk Charlotte down in front of people in the past, if she did it again, a new love interest could step in at that time to compliment her and then take her off for a dance. That could be an emotional moment for her, as she realized her feelings for Sidney in London during a dance the last time around as well. And she could have her cinderella moment by excusing herself and running off after the dance, uncertain of her feelings. She'll have some grand balls, might be harrassed by a man and risk a scandal, or try and prevent Georgiana from ruin during a scandal.

At the last moment she'll succeed in her goal and lure a crowd to Sanditon's events that will put Sanditon on the map. Either the local competitive duke, or someone from London will be impressed with her, but she won't be ready to marry yet. I trust that by the end of the second season, she'll finally have a realisation that she's quite happy with how she's living her life and how good her work is, and that she has finally stopped feeling sad. So the second season will stop with her atop a cliff, letting go of the traumatic loss she suffered on that same cliff a season before. By the end of the season, one or two love interests will be set up for the last season.

So the nudity and big romance will have to come from elsewhere. Georgiana will get more agency and action in the next seasons. She could be trying to tempt Charlotte in joining her adventures as a single wealthy independent woman. She might even leave to find her place in the world via boat, returning to where she was last truly happy: Antigua. The second season could maybe end with Charlotte overlooking Georgiana's boat leaving from the previously mentioned clifftop. Another option is Georgiana falling in love with a local man and taken an interest in the town. Financially speaking, Georgiana could be the only one able to save Sanditon. But I don't think she owes the town anything. Another option is the writers focus on Georgiana navigating her relationship with Otis, who might be back home for a holiday after navy duty. We could also see some political debates à la Poldark S5 about freedom, servitude, independence and so on. The first plan for Georgiana doesn't even have to exclude the second, she could decide to sail away with Otis to find their place in the world. In any case: race shall not be brushed under the carpet and Georgiana will kick some shins on her way to her happy ending. In Jane Austen, we have rarely seen a woman who tried to elope, or escape her guardian, get a happy ending. Georgiana Darcy, Eliza Williams, Eliza's mother, ... they're all tragic tales of women falling for bad guys who try to steal their virtue or take their money. And in the end they always become dependent on men again. I hope in Sanditon Georgiana will learn and grow herself, instead of being coddled by men. A lot could be done.

Esther and Babington could be a very cool insert if the actors join. They can really connect the high society to Sanditon. They could host balls, invest in Sanditon or drive the London plot. But they can also be an emotional backbone to the show. Esther married Babington, but she wasn't in love yet. I'm not a fan of the edward/Esther angle. After all he did, I rather she hated him with burning passion and never spoke to him again. But he could try to blackmail her and ruin her reputation in London. Perhaps become some kind of Lord Whistledown. With Charlotte coming to Esther's aid. Esther's plotline could be about learning to trust people and open her heart again. Perhaps she could have a conflict with Babington about him wanting a family and she still being uneasy with marriage, let alone children. Maybe they could have a fight, with one of them going to London. In their separation they might realize they love each other. And then the other comes back home from London with Charlotte and they fix everything. Another route is them having a fight, Esther going to confront Edward or Clara about their blackmailing or maneouvring. Babington thinks it's because she doesn't love him, but actually it's because she loves Babington and wants to be rid of her past. But she gets into an accident and Babington only realizes the truth later on, leading to a happy ending.

Other things I'd love to see: Mary finally growing a backbone and telling Tom to either be open about his affairs and finances or be gone. Arthur and Diana growing a backbone and telling their brother he's a fuck up. Charlotte realizing Tom is stupid. Lady Denham appointing Charlotte or Arthur to head of Sanditon after showing their worth an entire season. Tom being repentant. Diana getting over her fears. Arthur getting a love interest. Crowe being in Sanditon, I just love him. Kisses. Healthy love interests that aren't broody and traumatized and in need of fixing by women. Jane Austen's men need to do their growing ON THEIR OWN. And then they earn their brides.

5. What we'll lose

- A Sidlotte ending: once the new season comes out, Sidlotte is no longer headcanon.

- A happy Esther/Babington ending: they married and looked happy, despite Esther's rushed turn around. If they're in the new season, their marriage won't be perfect. They'll have conflicts, just for plot. Whatever headcanons we had for them will probably be falsified. We might come to dislike them or their relationship. I've seen almost all my ships crumble to dust on the rocks of multiple seasons dragging out relationships and piling on conflict just to keep it interesting.

- A part of what made Sanditon Sanditon: we'll lose many faces we've come to love. And the dynamics and relationships will therefore change a lot.

- Fanfics become dated: I know it is the problem of every fandom, but it's one I regret all the same. Part of why I love Austen fandoms is the fact that the books are written. The characters and relationships won't change. With 2 new seasons coming, all fanfics out there will become dated. The millions of hours authors put into Sidlotte fics will perhaps become barely read when Charlotte gets new love interests. All the headcanons I and many others wrote down for Sidlotte, Esther/Babington, Charlotte/Stringer, will officially become silly fantheories. I've been there a couple of times before that shows changed the entire course and personality of certain characters and then you can't help but feel exhausted and sometimes annoyed because these are your babies and you had dreams for them, and the writers took them in directions that sometimes don't do them justice. But it's canon so you gotta accept it. Sometimes fantasy is nicer than a writer toying around with storylines and characters just to create drama. And I'll have to write my characters in a new way that fits the characters based on the info from the new seasons. I might fall out of love with them. Ah, the burden of being a shipper weighs heavy.

- Perhaps we still lose a HEA: Season one ended with a happy babington/Esther and an unhappy Charlotte who learned a lot, and a Sanditon that was saved. Although Sanditon has been extended for two seasons it's possible that if the ratings for S2 aren't good they may still cancel the third season. If they don't learn from their mistakes and end season 2 on another cliffhanger even Esther's relationship and sanditon may be at stake. If they're getting 2 seasons they will also not marry or engage charlotte in the second, meaning Charlotte will still be single by the end of the series if they cancel season 3. The whole reason we wanted more seasons was for charlotte to have a HEA. So I'm really fearful that she'll be put in another hard spot. They at least need to get her happy by the end of S2.

6. What we'll gain

- More sanditon content

- More regency era content and images and music which is always lovely

- Seeing our favourites again

- Hopefully we get to see new challenges and romance and humor and tense moments and scandal and drama that will be fun to watch

- A Georgiana story arc: a black woman in a realistic historical setting living her life, being wealthy, and England just having to Deal With It. And as cherry on top she'll be written by black writers.

- Happy endings (hopefully)

- New hot men! This is a guarantee

- Perhaps LGBTQ+ representation with Arthur

- Frustration at Tom's antics (guaranteed)

- Maybe some interactions with Charlotte's siblings

- Esther Babington content

- New material to write fanfics and metas about

- Over 8 hours of viewing pleasure

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- PRIORI INCANTATEM

Harry recognized that he was supposed to read next, and he was actually as surprised with himself as everyone else as he indicated he wanted his turn. There was something about what was fixing to come, some part of this nightmare night in the graveyard that, though the worst night of his adolescent life, held a meaning to him. It involved his parents, of that he'd known from the moment he arrived, and Harry wanted to be the one to regain the moment with his own words. So despite the fact that he had to let go of his hold on his mother and father, Harry took the book, straightened his back, and let the memories of that night come in without a fight.

Harry scrambled to find his feet to support his weight before the ropes were untied.

Lily groaned as she remembered Harry was injured on top of everything, that spider bite and his sprained ankle all on the same leg, there was hardly a chance of him properly dueling, let alone making a run for it.

Wormtail used his new hand to easily tear away Harry's restraints, and just as roughly pulled the material out of his mouth.

"Why do you call him that?" James demanded of Harry in a tone he'd never heard before.

Harry flinched at the near demonic look in his dad's eye, but explained himself calmly enough. "Because that rat deserves that nickname, it's the only way I've ever known him as that traitorous word."

The Marauders disagreed, thinking that backstabber didn't deserve a single thing they'd ever given him, and that name was one of the most important ones to them. However, they could see Harry's side, he'd never known Peter the person, but the man who'd gotten his parents killed while using that name.

Lily still wondered why Voldemort did, but she thought Harry had said it unintentionally. Voldemort had made it clear that while he rewarded Pettigrew for the help he'd given, Voldemort wanted to constantly remind him of what he'd lost. Using that nickname every time was rubbing salt in the wound, a slap in the face every day to remind him of what he'd once done.

Harry knew how much this hurt them every single second to be reminded of who they were hearing do this to him, but he couldn't see how using a different name would actually make it better as he forced himself on.

  The moment he landed, his first thought was to try and run, but that was made impossible as his damaged leg shook beneath him, and the Death Eaters closed ranks. Just beyond them, Wormtail was returning with Harry's wand, which he roughly gave back without looking at him.

Lily noticed for the first time that this seemed to be a common thing, the rat hadn't been looking at Harry all night it seemed. She hoped it was because he couldn't stand to see what he was doing to Harry, and to James through it, but most likely it was his own shame for his cause in this, always his own feelings first before he'd let himself think of others.

Harry had no choice but to turn back and face Voldemort as he asked if Harry had ever been taught to duel.

"I don't think watching Snape blast Lockhart across a room should count," Remus muttered. He'd been trying to come up with an escape plan for Harry since he'd arrived, and dueling his way out was very bottom of the list for the poor kid.

Harry distantly remembered once attending a dueling club, where the only spell he'd learned was Expelliarmus.

Harry felt an odd swooping feeling flow through his chest. He'd felt something for that spell the moment he'd first seen it used, and now even his own thoughts trying to mock him for how useless it was didn't quite cover the hope that was trying to bubble in him now, he was certain he'd found his solution.

What good would that do him, even if he did manage to disarm Voldemort he was outnumbered thirty to one.

"Thirty?" Sirius yelped in concern. "I'd only counted seven besides Voldemort."

Harry gave him a look of exasperation, the point still stood of how outnumbered he really was. It was that expression he was giving his godfather, 'really, you're pointing that out now?', that somehow managed to convince Sirius to smile back. He could see that Harry was still only just below panicking levels of the situation he remembered being in, but for just a moment he'd turned and talked to him like this was all normal, something they all needed.

He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this.

"I don't think anybody's actually trained for that situation," Remus agreed, "Dumbledore himself would feel a little trapped."

"You really are something not to just be on the ground begging for your life," James agreed without a hint of mocking.

He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned,

Harry said Moody's name a bit odd, certainly not in the normal way he had before this, but even he didn't seem to notice he'd done it, and it was such a small thing nobody paid much mind.

Avada Kedavra, and more unprotected than the first time where his mother had died to protect him from it.

Lily honestly wished that would quit being mentioned so much, for no matter how true it was she'd do the same every time, it hurt all the more she never could again.

Voldemort took it upon himself to tell Harry what to do, saying first they were to bow to each other.

"I hate formalities," Sirius sneered, "no one ever actually bothers with that kind of mess when your life's on the line."

Dumbledore would want him to show his manners.

"I don't give a damn what Dumbledore would want," James seethed, "he needs to stop talking to you like this."

Since Harry wished Voldemort would stop talking to him period, he agreed.

Harry was told to bow to his death.

Despite the monster trying to claw its way out of Harry's chest, screaming for him to run away from this, there was also a surreal moment tucked in there where Harry realized he wasn't dead, hadn't died this night. Instead he got something infinitely better for his night of misery.

Voldemort smiled at him then, like a cat playing with its dinner, but Harry refused to move. He was not going to let Voldemort taunt him into this before he died.

James didn't care if it went without saying, he never grew tired of telling his son he was proud of the way he was taking this, and the small smile he received in that moment never dimmed no matter how many times he saw it.

Voldemort wasn't having that, his wand appearing and an invisible force bending Harry's spine into the mockery of submission, while the Death Eaters around him laughed all the harder.

Remus was remise that he had no clue what spell that was, as he'd have loved to do the same thing to Voldemort as just the start of the retribution he'd get for doing this to Harry.

Sirius was just pleased Harry had stopped taking note of every little thing that rat had been doing. He wasn't sure what would have hurt more, to know he was laughing along, or to see him simply standing there, watching and doing nothing.

Voldemort released him and Harry immediately straightened back upright, and Voldemort gave a cruel grin again as he praised this, saying how Harry was going to die proud, straight-backed like his father.

James watched his two friends shake automatically as that was mentioned again, and he couldn't blame them, he knew he'd have felt the same way if that was constantly brought up about one of them. He wanted to say something, offer up some word as a promise to his brothers, but the words failed him as he replayed that last moment again in his head, what he'd died trying to protect. Somehow, he still couldn't hate the way his life ended, even if it was leaving those behind.

Done with his fun, Voldemort raised his wand and began the duel, by again hitting Harry with Curcio.

Harry's voice wasn't coming out in any way normal as flashes of remembered pain from that curse came pouring back over him, but he forced himself to press through that, because there was something more precious to him that happened this night, and it was another kind of pain, but almost a good kind.

Harry's scream of misery couldn't define the pain his body was in, falling to the floor again and writhing in place, when it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

James was now convinced his life was going to end any moment now the longer he had to listen to that curse being placed on his son, the thought of what had happened to Frank and Alice now weighing on him worse than ever. He could not just sit here and picture this being done without doing something!

Harry rolled back to his feet at once, but it was in no way intimidating, as he stood trembling as much as Wormtail had before his hand had been replaced.

James hadn't meant for that something to snap at Harry, "Don't you ever compare yourself to that thing!"

"What can I say, the memory sort of stuck with me," Harry muttered back without looking up.

Voldemort crooned to him if he wanted a break, asking if Harry wanted some breathing room before that was done to him again. Those pitiless red eyes watched his progress, death promising in the slits.

Harry was now more glad than ever he was the one getting this out, distorted words they were in his own voice from remembered pain, as a solemn reminder to those around him that at least that one thing hadn't been true that night.

Harry knew what he really wanted, to see him beg, which was not going to happen.

Considering Lily had mostly been in a state of the worst anger of her life with the situation Harry was in, she didn't think she'd told him enough how proud she was of her young man, and the answering gleam she saw in her own eyes imaged into his face was the best feeling in the world.

Voldemort grew impatient when he didn't get his wish, demanding Harry answer him, and using the Imperius Curse.

Remus wasn't sure if that was full blown hysteria trying to crack through as he felt his lips twist in a smile, for the irony of their griping about Moody putting this curse on Harry for the good it could do, and look how right that mad old Auror was.

Harry felt, for the third time in his life,

"Only the third time?" Sirius was sure that was his ears cracking, not his voice as he forced out anything like a mocking tone for this. "Moody placed that on you a ton more times to make sure you threw it off completely. You never even gave us that number."

Harry gave an unhelpful answer of muttering about how his mind hadn't exactly been going for specifics at a time like this, not wanting to put Sirius down when he'd been trying to help. It wasn't assisting his own mind that recently every time Moody's name had been mentioned he felt an even sharper poke to his conscious, which had been paining him more and more since he'd arrived here.

as everything melted away, leaving him the happiest he'd been in his life as all the worry and pain evaporated, all he had to do was answer no.

A firm voice snapped right back, that still wasn't happening. He wouldn't answer!

Even though James had already watched Harry pull this off once, this ranked right up there with his Seeker skills of impressive abilities. Moody in a classroom was one thing, not that he'd expect the man to go easy but still. This was Voldemort behind that curse, and Harry was still fighting back!

The battle didn't last long, before Harry threw the curse off altogether.

Silence rung in the graveyard, no one was laughing now.

"You show those pushovers what it's really like to stand up to that pompous idiot," Sirius nodded sharply.

Voldemort stood there for a long beat in surprise, his Death Eater's as frozen in shock.

"I'm sure they're all wondering why they never bothered to grow a spine and do that," Remus muttered.

Voldemort whispered to Harry that in not answering, he was disobeying. Obedience was a virtue that every man should learn before death, and Voldemort offered more pain should teach that lesson.

"Well now he's just being a hypocrite," James forced an eye roll, forced just one small second of a joke. "I'm sure Dumbledore's told him to stand down and he's never done it."

"Right, don't do what Voldemort does, I'll keep that in mind," Harry genuinely grinned at him.

Voldemort raised his wand again, but this time Harry was ready as his honed Quidditch skills flung him aside behind a gravestone, the crack of the spell missing sending shards everywhere.

"There's my boy," James whispered to himself, the image of Harry flying proud in the sky was one he'd envisioned since he'd first held his son, now instead of a broomstick those reflexes were being used to save his life.

Voldemort mockingly called to him this was not hide-and-seek as he continued approaching,

Harry felt himself flushing as he got that out, and it wasn't hard to realize that Harry felt ashamed of what he was now telling them he'd done. James wasn't going to stand for that, giving Harry a friendly nudge as he promised, "no one on earth could fault you for trying to catch your breath Fleetfoot."

Harry did look around at him in surprise for that, and James shrugged without remorse. "I found I'm partial to that for your Marauder nickname, covers all the bases really."

Harry's face stayed red, but for a completely different reason as he turned back to the book, more pleased than he'd ever been in his life for his dad actually insisting upon this as more than a joke, especially after another nickname he'd once endowed kept stabbing him in every way possible.

his soft voice calling for Harry to come back out, he'd end this game now. Voldemort could not promise it wouldn't hurt, he had never died.

"I'm pretty sure during the time where you didn't have a body, you were some classification of dead," Remus grumbled.

"Wish he'd stayed that way," Sirius quietly agreed.

Harry only remained crouched where he was for a few beats more as reason came back to him. He was no more going to sit here cowering than beg for his life. His muscles were already springing to his command, prepared to die upright like his father.

"I'd rather you not die at all," Lily murmured to herself, but aloud for her son's ears, "least you really did get the best parts of your father."

"There aren't any bad parts of me for him to get," James forced out just to simply pitch his voice into the conversation, he couldn't stand watching Sirius and Remus' face when they heard that any more than it felt right for his own ears to process.

Harry was back around before the next taunt could be given, shooting the spell for his foe, Expelliarmus,

"That's really the spell you went with?" Sirius shook his head affectionately, his long hair falling into his face to avoid his too wet eyes.

"Can't even fault him for it," Remus sighed, his voice coming out a bit too thick which no one blatantly noticed. "What better way to get out of this than to disarm the lot of them."

at the same time Voldemort cried Avada Kedavra.

"Not my son you bastard!" Lily howled in outrage, her wand the only thing steady in her as every part of her was telling her to block that curse from being near her baby.

Green met red in midair, but then the two colors merged into one, and Harry's wand began vibrating in his hand that he could not unclench.

"Err, that's not supposed to happen," Remus muttered uselessly. When two spells met in midair, they ricochet off each other, so one should have hopefully killed a Death Eater, preferably a pathetic rat among them, and the other should have disarmed one while Harry tried to break out of the ranks.

The color was now one thin narrow beam keeping the two wands connected, a deep gold.

One glance up showed Harry that no one around him had any more clear idea of what was going on than he had at the time, but whatever it was, this was the moment he'd been waiting for. Once Cedric had died, he'd shut down and hadn't been able to think of anything else until Voldemort had cut him free, where the very feeling he'd felt had now been trying to rise to the surface. Harry leaned just that little bit more into his parents, for some unearthly reason, almost excited to continue.

Voldemort's unpigmented face showed just as much shock, his own hand clearly trying to break this connection but having no more success, and then it got stranger.

The two were lifted off their feet by seemingly nothing, and carried away from the graves into a clear area before gently being set back down.

Sirius was mouthing wordlessly as he tried to wrap his head around this, tried to even vaguely pull a piece of information from his deflating brain on what could be happening, but there wasn't a speck.

The Death Eaters ran after them, shouting for instructions on what to do, most drawing wands.

Lily may not know what was happening, but she suddenly wasn't as sure she liked it. At first it had seemed some cosmic force was actively trying to save her son, taking him away from that unholy place, but now locked like he was, he had no way to defend himself from the other wands that could just as easily kill.

The deep ichor color keeping them connected was continuing to act all on its own, thin cords shooting from it and soon encasing them in a dome that the Death Eaters cries could not come through.

James wished he had a clue what was being done to his son, but so long as it actually seemed to be helping him he couldn't find the urge to complain about it. Was this odd, never before heard of magic the way his son survived this night? If so, he'd go out and learn it right now.

Instead all Harry could now hear was a noise he'd only heard once before, but something precious to him that filled him with warmth, phoenix song.

"Is, Fawkes going to show back up, or-" Remus struggled to get out a coherent thought, but that didn't make sense. Harry hadn't done anything grand like he had before to summon Fawkes to him, though now he thought about it that would have been a good idea to get the bird to try and summon him away. Not the point, and no one had an answer for him, Harry had only paused in shock before gathering himself back enough to keep going.

It was the sound of hope, and it gave Harry new resolve to do everything in him not to break this connection.

Lily was running her hand through his hair for as much comforting him through what he was reading as a warming to herself to remind her where her baby was. This still wasn't a particularly good thing happening, but finally it was a new moment, something shining down promising hope was coming.

The moment he promised the music he'd do no such thing, the harder it became to do.

Sirius longed for a time where he could have been hearing about this and laughing, Harry talking to music, and then of course what he'd just described felt like it described life. All he was really thinking on though was how much he desperately wished he was there with his pup, when he needed someone now more than ever.

His strip of wood was now vibrating so hard in his hand it was a wonder it hadn't disintegrated yet, and still something new was happening. Beads of light were appearing in the center of their merged stream, and they were slowly heading towards Harry's wand. The closer they got, the harder his whole arm shook.

Because this wasn't confusing and weird enough before. They'd all worn out of shock by now, so instead they were trying to comprehend what purpose this could hold, how and why this was happening to their Harry.

Some instinct, whether the song or some innate feeling, told Harry that what he needed was for the opposite, so concentrating harder than he ever had on anything in his life, his mind focused on those little beads, and slowly but surely, they began reversing course, and were now going for Voldemort's wand.

Now Harry could feel his own voice rising with strength, some powerful moment about to return to him, almost a peace settling over him as something of the warmth he was surrounded in now was leaping eagerly to return to his mind.

Voldemort looked almost as astonished as he did fearful.

"Congratulations Harry, not many people can say they made Voldemort piss himself moments after his rebirth," Sirius murmured.

It happened after such a tiring mental struggle Harry nearly sunk to the ground again in a new kind of pain, but finally the beads connected with that strip of wood, and Voldemort's wand began trembling harder than ever as screams of pain echoed from its contents, and a smoky fist arose from within, the ghostly image of the hand he'd created for Wormtail.

Remus choked as he realized what was being described, yet Prior Incantato certainly didn't have this magical property normally, so even just guessing that this could be a form of what was happening didn't help him at all.

The wand wasn't done yet, as the next thing to arise was even bigger, more solid and dense as first a gray, misty head, then a torso emerged, before finally Cedric Diggory stood before them.

Lily felt a whole new swell of emotion blooming in her as she heard of that poor young man who'd been simply tossed aside, and now making an appearance like this. His whole future ahead of him, gone, but now what was this? Good or bad?

Cedric took in the scene around him, and Harry couldn't quite tell what he was, not entirely a ghost as he looked too solid, but it spoke to him in his same voice, telling Harry to hold on.

Harry couldn't imagine how anyone else was processing this, he certainly was having a hard time getting past his own wonder. For just that one moment, Cedric was back, he was alive and hadn't suffered for Harry's existence. His throat almost swelled shut right then, as for a moment he thought this was his reward for suffering this night, Cedric being spared just a few more moments of life, but no. There was something soft resonating in him, gently encouraging him on.

Voldemort had no more knowledge of what was going on than him, fear tracing his scarlet eyes as he looked upon the being.

Remus would have been far more concerned if Voldemort had understood what was going on, as that couldn't mean it was anything good. Instead, he couldn't explain even to himself, but he was almost eagerly listening to Harry, his every being exuding that they should all be feeling this way.

Still the magic was continuing, as another was already forcing itself out as well, an older man who emerged just like Cedric and stood beside him, leaning on a walking stick as he took them both in. His first thought as he caught sight of Voldemort was to say his surprise of how he had been a real wizard.

James was surprised when he felt an honest smile flit across his face, that old man really had been something in his last moments, and like Cedric, it felt like a miracle he was being granted any extra time, no matter how mind blowing this feat of magic was.

He turned eyes on Harry next and gave the same advice, to keep fighting and don't stop. Though Harry had no intentions of doing so as yet another figure was coming out, and soon Bertha Jorkins stood among them.

Sirius was surprised at the burn that ran through him. He knew so many people from his school years set to die, and even just a random girl he'd never even liked being presented in this way still managed to set him off.

Her conviction was the same as the men, insisting to Harry that whatever he did, not to let go!

James shook his head for a moment as he considered, really stopped and thought, about what was going on. Harry was getting encouragement from a ghost against Voldemort!

The three figures began prowling their circumference of the golden enclosure, in opposition to the Death Eaters doing the same on the outside. They would whisper more encouragement to Harry as they passed, and hiss something unheard to Voldemort when near him.

"I can guarantee they weren't nice," Lily sneered.

Harry took a moment to stop, and just stare at her with a new smile they'd never seen before, and it was that look that suddenly had Sirius realizing just what exactly order these magical ghosts were appearing in, and why Harry could conceivably be happy for any of this...

Now more than ever Harry had no desire to make this stop, as he watched another coming through the wand, the woman he'd thought about more tonight than any other. Lily Potter materialized before him.

Lily and James were crying, and not even bothering to hide it. They didn't see the point as they now understood what Harry was seeing for the first time in his life, their echo, their shadows, but it was still more of them than even that mirror or any picture could hold.

She whispered to him his father was coming,

Harry felt something warm curling tight in his heart and promising to never leave as he heard his mother's first words. He had never considered his dementor memory as counting, as his parents last dying words were more heart aching to think of than something like this.

just hold on a little longer.

Her words rang true, as the final man to emerge, James Potter blossomed between them.

"I knew it," Harry whispered, unable to express into words how much it meant to him he was really seeing them now, as before he'd come here this was as close as he'd ever get to them.

There was hardly an inches height difference, their features so similar it ached as James looked him in the eye, and explained that once the connection broke, they would only linger for a moment. Harry had to use that time to get back to the Portkey, it would get him back to Hogwarts.

It really did feel like this was zapping the life out of Remus to hear about, because thinking about James as anything other than the Prongs huddled into his family right now, alive and breathing through a heavy chest but still as solid and alive as he'd always been. Still Remus' first response was to poke at his friend's comment, just like he always did to keep him on track, and ask what on earth that Cup was going to do, why would it be set as a two way Portkey? He couldn't get the words to actually move past his lips, it was too heart wrenching to even consider James in this way to move past it and say anything else.

Harry promised he understood, his own wand beginning to slip out of his fingers regardless to show he couldn't have held much longer.

Harry almost hated his wand in that moment, for forcing him to think of anything else other than drinking in as much of them as he could. It was enough to drown out another powerful feeling trying to remind him that though this was the most precious memory he had, it may not be the only one like it.

Cedric got in his final words as well, asking Harry to take his body back with him.

Harry wished that he could instead be living in a time where he could brush that off as a joke, like he'd ever leave any part of Cedric behind for the Death Eater's to do anything with, instead this came out as solemnly as his parents first words to him.

Harry swore he'd do this, and his father's voice urged him to break the connection, now!

Harry obeyed, with the hardest pull he'd ever had to do in his life the wands broke free, and Harry spun on the spot and ran like he never had before. The shadowy figures remained for a few moments longer, swarming Voldemort and blocking Harry from view.

Sirius made a wretched noise, rubbing at his streaming nose as he tried to get out, "see, not even your own graves could stop you helping him out." He'd meant it for James, and there was most certainly some form of happiness resonating in him for that being true.

Lily hummed in agreement, her hands never stopping the motion of curling through his hair. Her throat to restricted to get out anything more articulate until he was really away from that place.

Harry broke through the stunned rank of Death Eaters, took no notice of any of his injuries as his feet flew over gravestones and zigzagged a pattern around any oncoming spells.

From behind, Voldemort demanded he be stunned.

Harry could practically feel the mad adrenaline pumping through his veins again, his mind sprinting as fast as he'd forced his ungainly feet to move, and the others were so tight and desperate for Harry to be free now none of them would have questioned why Voldemort hadn't bothered to send that curse rather than telling someone else. Could it be because he longer trusted his own wand to do the deed? There was something significant in that train of thought, but Harry wanted to be done with his chapter already, so that he could set this book aside and really hug his parents again in gratitude for what they'd done for him even one more time.

He made it to Cedric's body, but the Cup still lay ten feet away. Harry couldn't carry Cedric, but his pursuers approach would be upon him in moments. Harry twisted on the spot and met the red eyes of Voldemort one last time as he cried Accio, summoning the Triwizard Cup to him.

James felt a wild gasp of relief finally escape him, watching Harry finish off the last few lines with gratitude so he could just stop, and think for a minute!

The silver cup was caught in his hand, and Voldemort's scream of fury was drowned out with the howl of wind carrying him away.

Harry snapped the book shut hard, and then proceeded to hug both of his parents to him as tightly as he'd ever been able to in his life.

James still hadn't even begun to fully process everything he'd just heard about the night of Voldemort's return, he was still too busy clinging to his only child and his wife to think past much of anything except for the fact that he never wanted to let go of either of them. That night could have so easily gone wrong, Harry could have never been here now, but instead would have remained like Cedric, dead and lost to the rest of the world forever. Whatever that magic was that had saved him, somehow his miracle had been granted, and he had finally been able to do just one thing for Harry, even beyond the grave. Later he could question how his ghost or whatever had even known the way to get back, later he would think about how that had all come to pass, later...

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #5: Freaking Crocus!

Words: 900 Setting: Canon Lemon: no CW: None

  Elsa was dreaming, that much was certain. She was out on the ice with Anna as that white streak in her hair overtook Anna’s whole body. Elsa ran for her sister as Anna’s body turned to ice.

  Elsa screamed ‘Nooooooooo’ falling to her knees and throwing her hands in the air.

  The ice cracked and Anna tipped over backward, into the darkness. As she fell, the ice statue shouted ‘I never loved you.’

  Seemed unnecessarily rude.

  Elsa jolted awake, reaching her hand out beside her to where Anna usually slept. The bed was empty. Elsa jumped out of bed and pulled up the covers to look underneath.

  Anna was gone. The dream had been a prophecy.

  That could only mean one thing: 'Anna’s fucking dead. Omg.’

  It was the most painful thing to happen, Elsa thought. That her nightmare just a minute ago came true. Fate was so cruel to her.

  She opened the door and called for the closest handmaiden.

  “Call everyone,” Elsa instructed. “We’re going to burry my dear, definitely dead, sister.”

Earlier…

  “Oh my fucking gosh, that was the best dream I’ve ever had. Time to make it true,” Anna shouts as she jumps out of bed.

  Elsa just rolls over and continues to snore. “I was gonna wake her but she looks to peaceful.” Anna remarks as she gazes upon her ‘BELOVED’ sister ;)

  “I shall not wake thee from thy peaceful slumber,” she proclaims as she hops merrily on her way outside to bring her dream to fruition.

  Right now, in the Castle…

  “But your majesty? What is the reason for this abrupt funeral arrangement? Princess Anna was just lively the last time we saw her. Is there no wake?” the handmaiden asked, utterly confused by the situation.

  “There is no need, unnamed handmaiden, for it would be Anna’s greatest wish for people to not mourn her. She would want for us to cry for her just once and move on,” Elsa explained.

  “But your majesty, I- Th-“ the unnamed handmaiden stuttered, at a lost for word.

  “No more questions. We must prepare immediately. We are wasting time,” Elsa commanded. The unnamed handmaiden scurried away to tell everyone to prepare the funeral.

  Meanwhile, at Anna’s current whereabouts…

  “Ahh… what a fine day for picking flowers,” Anna says to no one in particular. “It’s just like in my dream, where I owned a flowershop and went outside every day to pick flowers to arrange and sell.” She arranged the flowers neatly in a pile in her basket.

  “Oh, such is a cottage and flowershop life.” Anna says again, to no one, as she picks up another crocus flower.

  Back at the castle…

  “Oh Anna, life hasn’t been kind to you,” Elsa says again as she picks up another crocus flower.

  “Get more crocus flowers here. I don’t want this to look as drab as my parents’ funeral. I actually care about Anna,” Elsa instructs some servant as she decorates the soon-to-be grave of her, absolutely for-sure dead sister.

  “Your majesty, I don’t mean to intrude but where is Princess Anna’s body?” a random castle staff asked.

“My sister followed in our parents’ footsteps and decided to die offscreen. Due to this I’m afraid we’d have to make do and proceed with the funeral without one.”

  “But your majesty,” the woodworker chipped��in. “Then what was the coffin you commissioned to us for?”

  “So that I can cry and stare dramatically at it while we bury her and her legacy along with it, metaphorically,” Elsa proclaimed.

  Anna…

  “Hello, everyone! It’s me! Your one and only princess since my sister was coronated as queen!” Anna twirled with her basket and struck an obligatory feminine pose to showcase her dress.

  There were only cricket sounds to be heard “Wait, where is everyone?”

  “They’re in the royal garden burying you, your highness,” that one unnamed maiden earlier remarked.

  “Ahhhh!” Anna screamed. “Where did you come from?” Anna asked, confused why there’s suddenly a handmaiden.

  “To fill you in with what is happening your highness. It is simply the done thing,” the handmaiden informed her.

  “Didn’t you see me leave, earlier? Why haven’t you informed her majesty?” Anna demanded of the randomly appearing maiden.

  “I tried to, your highness, but…” the handmaiden started, hesitant to finish.

  Anna raised her eyebrow “Go on.”

  In the Royal Gardens blah blah you know the drill…

  “Oh Anna, life hasn’t been kind to you.” Elsa says as she brings out a book with the title ‘Lily Strings: Books about forbidden lily romance.’

  “Forgive me for I have been an inadequate older sister, causing you to perish right before my eyes. Please accept my peace offering. This was the books you have been gushing about…wanting to buy it.” Elsa sniffed. “I’m sorry we’re never going to be able to try the funny positions in it.”

  The door to the royal gardens suddenly opened and everyone’s eyes turned to it, including the Queen’s.

  “Elsa you…wait.” Anna paused as she saw the latest Lily Romance Book Series above what she assumed to be her casket. “Are those for me?”

  “Uhhmm…” Elsa squeaked and, panicking, tried to hide the books behind her back.

  “Wait this shouldn’t distract me!” Anna thought out loud and raised her eyebrow as she prepared to continue “As I was saying��.

  ELSA YOU FREAKING CROCUS! I WAS ONLY GONE FOR LIKE 30 MINUTES!”

[sylvanfreckles]

I’m Sorry I Didn’t Know (FebuWhump 10)

Fandom: The Witcher (mix of book and show canon, set after season one and based on events in Blood of Elves) Summary: Jaskier finds himself in the hands of the enemy, being tortured for information about Geralt's location. Unfortunately he hasn't seen the witcher since that horrible day on the mountain. All seems lost and hopeless, but he has an ally on the way that even Jaskier doesn't know about...Yennefer of Vengerberg.

(Yes it’s more of torturing Jaskier, but he does get comforted this time. Just not by the big lug. See the AO3 version for my full rant :D)

* * *

The first thing he was aware of when he pulled himself out of the spiraling blackness was the pain in his wrists. Pain that lanced down his arms to his shoulders, and even his chest and stomach when he tried to move.

The second thing was the burlap sack over his head. It smelled faintly of old potatoes and dust, and he  choked and coughed when he tried to catch his breath.

Then it was the taste in his mouth and the back of his throat. The faint remnants of wine and something like the odor of water lilies and incense.

Now Jaskier remembered. The pudgy little man with the greasy forehead and too many rings on his thick fingers. He'd offered to buy the bard a drink, claimed to be a patron of the arts, but he'd only asked about the songs Jaskier had written about the witcher.

“Oh, good, you're awake.”

The sack was tugged off his head in one swift movement and Jaskier found himself blinking in the hazy light of a few candles. There were two or three other people in the room, but they were nothing but vague shapes as he tried to shake the last of the muzziness from his head.

That was a mistake. The movement pulled on his shoulders and sent a shock of pain spiraling up his arms to his wrists, which he now realized were bound above him. No, wait...his wrists were bound together and he was hanging from them. His fingers were nearly numb but he could just feel the metal curve of the hook between his hands. There was just enough slack in the rope for his lower legs and knees to rest against the ground, but that was it...and the drugging had left him without the strength to pull himself up any farther to rest his abused shoulders.

Someone had asked a question. Jaskier tried to focus, but the terror pounding through his brain at being caught in this situation was making his blood roar in his ears. Oh, gods, no one knew where he was. No one was expecting him. He had an open invitation to lecture for the summer semester at Oxenfurt, but if he didn't show up they'd assume he just had other plans. He was utterly alone and at the mercy of men who had drugged and kidnapped and strung him up like a side of meat to cure.

The bucket of water flung into his face snapped him out of his panicked thoughts with a splutter. He coughed and spat and shivered, every movement agony on his wrists and shoulders. “Wh-what is it?” If he didn't think about it, maybe he could convince himself his teeth were chattering from the cold and not fear.

“We're looking for the witcher,” the man said, with the impatient tone of someone repeating himself. It wasn't the pudgy man from the inn; this one was taller and darker. Jaskier couldn't make out too many details in his woozy state, though his eyes seemed to fix on the red brooch on the other man's cloak.

“Sorry?” Jaskier tried to clear his head and looked up toward the man's face. “I don't know where he is. Haven't seen him for months. Not since...not in a long time.”

Red Brooch gave a simpering smirk and nodded to someone behind Jaskier. The rope creaked and Jaskier bit back a cry of pain when he was hauled upward by his wrists, the movement pulling on every joint in his body until...he stopped.

Heart in his mouth, he craned his head back to look at his legs. They were wrapped in heavy chains, one behind his knees and the other across his ankles, and the chains were staked to the ground to hold his lower body in place. Every haul on the rope pulled his body between two opposing forces, threatening to tear or dislocate his joints.

A slap across the face brought his attention back to Red Brooch. The man was obviously impatient. “Everyone knows you follow the witcher around like a simpering maiden,” Red Brooch sneered. “All you've done for most of a decade is sing his praise from one end of the continent to the other and you expect us to believe you just lost him?”

Jaskier swallowed and tried to work a little moisture back into his mouth. “I don't know,” he said, voice weak. “We-we haven't seen each other since the mountain, since the dragon hunt. He doesn't...I don't know.”

Red Brooch sighed and gestured again. This time the pull on the rope was sharp and fast and Jaskier tried to scream, only to realize his captor's upraised hand was glowing as he cast a spell that muted Jaskier's voice.

The stretch was horrible. The coarse rope tore at the sensitive flesh of his wrists and his left shoulder, which had been injured in a fall out a window a few years before, was already very close to being pulled out of socket. The sudden release of tension brought only mild relief, as the man behind him simply let go of the rope and Jaskier fell a few inches before he was caught by the bindings around his wrists. It was all burning and pulling, like he was being torn apart on the inside.

Closing his fist, Red Brooch released his hold on Jaskier's voice. “You wrote that ballad about the Child Surprise.” He leaned in, one hand on Jaskier's shoulder, pushing down just enough that a new spike of agony shot down his arms from his wrists. “So you know he found her. The Lion Cub of Cintra.”

Jaskier shook his head. That had been...that had been poetry. “Just a story,” he gasped. “I made it...made it up.”

Red Brooch opened his hand again, sealing Jaskier's lips, and nodded to the man behind him. The pull was slow and agonizing this time, the world around him erupting into bright explosions of pain as his left shoulder finally gave under the strain and dislocated. He wanted to scream, but the spell on his mouth made it difficult to even suck in a breath.

And through it all Red Brooch just studied him with a calculating expression. When the chains around his knees and ankles creaked, Jaskier was suddenly grateful Geralt had used such cruel words to send him packing all those months ago. He would have said anything, given up anything, to make the pain stop...but he had nothing to give.

Then the rope was released, and the sudden drop against his mangled wrists and dislocated shoulder was enough to make his mind go white for a few seconds, while Red Brooch went for another bucket of water to dash over Jaskier's face and chest.

“I don't kn-know,” he stammered, when he could finally speak again. “Please...”

Something rustled just outside his field of vision. Red Brooch glanced over his shoulder, then nodded at the man behind Jaskier, who lumbered off into the darkness to check. For the first time Jaskier realized they were in some kind of dilapidated barn or stable, which meant they couldn't be too far from civilization. If he was careful, he might be able to shout for help if Red Brooch got distracted.

The other man came back—a big, hulking brute with tangled hair and Nilfgaardian armor—shaking his head.

Nilfgaard. Of course. He could still remember all of Queen Calanthe's rather colorful insults during her daughter's engagement ball all those years ago. The night when Geralt had mistakenly asked for the Law of Surprise and wound up with a child of destiny he had no intention of claiming.

Jaskier was just trying to screw up the courage to scream for help while Red Brooch glared at his companion when the door blew in under a burst of flame. The soldier let out a cry of fury and charged, but another ball of fire caught him in the chest and knocked him back.

A lone figure strode into the darkened space. Dressed in a dark tunic and trousers, rather than the striking black-and-white ensembles she favored, Yennefer was no less intimidating as she released a second searing blast at Red Brooch. He had the sense to throw his hands up to ward off the damage, then he was diving behind Jaskier to put the bard between himself and the approaching mage.

Her violet eyes flicked up to make contact with Jaskier's, then a streaming gout of flame was arcing toward him, only to bend and flow around him without singing even a hair on his head. Red Brooch cursed and kicked Jaskier in the back of the legs, making the bard cry out in pain at the tug against his wrists and shoulder, then there was the warping twist of magic and the smell of ozone and Jaskier could just see a portal forming out of the corner of his eye.

“No you don't!” Yennefer hissed and fired another blast of flame at Red Brooch, but he was already diving into the portal. She started to follow but hesitated, eyes flickering at Jaskier for a fraction of a second, and sent another stream of fire after Red Brooch. For a brief, satisfying moment he thought he heard a man scream, and then the portal snapped shut.

The soldier was still moving, though his armor and part of his face had burned off. Yennefer stalked over to him, one hand alight with the glow of magic, and seized the front of his leather jerkin with her other hand. “Who sent you?” she demanded.

Jaskier tried to call a warning as the soldier lunged up with a knife, but Yennefer had seen it coming. She doubled back, retrieving her own knife from her boot, and dashed in to cut a long gash in the soldier's arm up toward his armpit, right in the unarmored space where his bracer buckled.

The man fell with a gurgled cry, and Yennefer stood over him for a moment with her face twisted in disappointment as blood spurted out of the man's wound to darken the floor beneath him. “Cut the artery,” she commented over her shoulder. “Damn.”

Too relieved to comment, Jaskier let his head rest against his uninjured shoulder. “Yennefer?”

She studied him, eyes going from the rope holding his wrists up to the chain binding his legs down. “When I cut this, let me take your weight. Don't try to catch yourself on your knees, got it?”

He nodded. She wrapped one arm around his chest, almost tenderly, and reached up with her other hand to slice through the rope connected to the hook he'd been hanging from. Jaskier collapsed against her, the hook striking a glancing blow on his hip on the way down, and fought down a sob of mingled relief and pain as his shoulders went slack.

Yennefer muttered something and the chains across the back of his legs went limp, letting him slowly drag himself up until he was standing, with Yennefer supporting most of his weight. She stared up at him for a moment, as though reading the map of his injuries, then twisted partly away to summon her own portal with a gesture.

“Two steps and you can lie down,” Yennefer promised.

“Why...” Jaskier coughed, the movement jarring his wounded body, and felt the sorceress pull him inexorably forward. “Why are you...”

“We'll talk later,” she promised. “Just come with me for now.”

He let her lead him through the portal, and the last thing he remembered before darkness flooded his senses was a warm, cozy room with a roaring fire and—most importantly—a soft, clean bed.

* * *

Waking up was much more pleasant this time. Jaskier slowly sat up, well aware that his clothing still stank of the barn and sweat and blood...but the rest of him seemed pleasantly recovered. He flexed his left arm, surprised and relieved that the shoulder had been reset and even the swelling abated.

“You're finally awake,” Yennefer called. She was sitting at the room's little table, a meal spread out in front of her in half a dozen dishes that smelled heavenly. “Come, join me.”

Jaskier slowly approached. The table had two benches that faced each other, but while Yennefer was seated on one the other was covered with what looked like the detritus of a night's spell work. Yennefer rolled her eyes and made a show of scooting to the end of the bench, patting the empty wood beside her. “I won't bite,” she teased. “At least, not after spending a day and a night putting you back together.”

“Ah.” Jaskier awkwardly sat on the edge of the bench. “Um, thank you. For that.”

She rested a hand on his arm in an almost tender gesture. “I've been looking for you.

He stiffened. He should have known...escaping one danger to fall into another. “I don't know where he is,” he explained slowly. Maybe she'd just let him go, they didn't actually have a reason to hate each other, did they?

“Oh, Jaskier,” Yennefer shook her head, one dark curl falling across her shoulders. “I was looking for you. If I wanted to find Geralt...I have my own ways.”

Jaskier nodded. His stomach was cramping, reminding him it had been at least a day since he'd eaten, but he just couldn't bring himself to fill his plate. “I haven't seen him since...since...”

“Since the mountain,” Yennefer finished. “I'm so sorry, Jaskier. I didn't know. If I'd known he'd said something like that to you, I would have come back. I'd have slapped him across his self-righteous face and taken you straight to Oxenfurt, or wherever you needed to be to get away from him.”

For some reason, her words made his eyes prickle as though he was fighting back tears. This couldn't be real—not the unfeeling sorceress, hero of Sodden Hill, the woman so powerful she'd nearly bound a djinn to her will—people like that didn't care about people like him.

“Poor Jaskier,” Yennefer sighed and scooted across the bench to lean her head against his shoulder. “I hate seeing you like this; you're no fun to tease.”

He laughed at that, and the sound almost surprised him. He hadn't had much to laugh about lately. Yennefer smiled up at him and reached out to fill his plate, piling it up with the delicate food the sorceress preferred over the rough meat and bread that was Jaskier's usual tavern fare. He couldn't complain, though. After the events of the last few days a few pieces of fruit and some light, toasted bread sounded a bit more palatable than a joint of mutton.

“You must know I don't hate you,” Yennefer began. “We don't see eye-to-eye, but I would never want to see anything like that happen to you.”

Jaskier gave in and let his head rest against hers, her dark hair soft against his cheek. “I think you're the only one.”

“Geralt was angry,” Yennefer replied. “For a man who claims to have no emotions he has a tendency to let his passions override his self control.”

She rested one hand on his arm and shifted her head so that she was looking up at him. “Don't let this break you, Jaskier. He blames himself for the harsh words he spoke to you; don't take them on as your burden as well.”

To his shame, her thumb brushed over a tear that had escaped from one eye. He cleared his throat and pulled away, taking his plate to stand closer to the fire to eat. “What are your plans now?”

Yennefer pretended not to notice the sudden change of topic. “I have a few things I'm looking into for a friend,” she lied smoothly. That was all right. Jaskier didn't really want to know the sort of things the sorceress got up to. For all he knew she was the spy mistress for an underground movement to liberate Cintra from Nilfgaard control. The less he knew about her life the better.

“I need to get back to Oxenfurt,” Jaskier said, though she hadn't asked. “I've been asked to teach for the summer semester, and walking those hallowed grounds would be a nice respite from life on the road.”

The mage gracefully stood from the table, her movements making even the rough tunic and trousers she still wore seem elegant. “I can send you there by portal whenever you're ready,” she offered, holding a hand up when he started to protest. “Please. I would be happier knowing I'd left you somewhere safe.”

Jaskier placed his empty plate on the mantle and gave a curt nod, emotions welling up in him again. He focused on the fire, knowing that a kind look from Yennefer would break him down again.

She seemed to sense his discomfort and crossed the room to throw a cloak over her shoulders. “I'll see if I can retrieve your belongings from the tavern where you were playing,” Yennefer said. “Eat your fill and I'll send you to Oxenfurt when you're ready.”

Yennefer had her hand on the door before Jaskier had pulled himself together to speak. “Thank you, Yennefer. I really...I mean it.”

The sorceress smiled, a soft expression that he'd never seen on her face. “Eat something. You've lost so much weight you look like a plucked chicken.”

The familiar, sarcastic bite to her tone hand him leaning against the mantle as he laughed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes rather than the pathetic, pitying ones he'd been fighting back moments before.

Well. Another plate or two wouldn't hurt.

* * *

I actually have trouble watching the show because Geralt is just kind of mean. He's so much better in the books...even if it is a lot of fun to send my friend pictures of Henry Cavil every time she complains that she's thirsty.

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

libera nos a malo chapter 8: ultimatum

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina Rated for Mature Audiences Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content Chapter 8/20

libera nos a malo masterpost+ Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object masterpost+

<< Chapter Seven+

Chapter Nine+>>

Severus’s world might have ended the night before, and his head might feel like an overripe watermelon liable to split open at the slightest provocation, and he might be operating on a single hour of broken sleep, but none of this changed the fact that he was expected in the Great Hall at ten o’clock in the morning to baby-sit a group of inept teenagers attempting to bungle their way through an Apparition lesson. Every step he took as he slunk up the winding staircase from his pit of despair sent a fresh jolt of pain lashing through his already pounding skull. His stomach was roiling from the quantity of gin he’d fed it during the small hours of the morning, (gin was now on the list of liquor he would never touch again, right under pálinka) along with the Hang Over Potion and black coffee he’d forced on it this morning (how could Miranda stand to drink coffee every day?)

The internal critique of Miranda’s drinking habits was quickly replaced by the memory of how wide her eyes had been when he’d cut her to the quick less than twelve hours prior, and his stomach dropped violently as he once again replayed the whole wretched scene. Humiliation and guilt wrapped themselves around his heart, strangling him with their familiar fingers. A new throbbing from a fresh and dripping wound joined them; for surely if he ever saw Miranda again, it would only be to formally end their volatile association. He knew what came of offering apologies to furious women.

As he gained the top of the staircase, a snarl of angry voices derailed his brooding. It did no favors for his headache or his nerves, but his smarting conscience was eager for any distraction, however unpleasant. A tangle of students had formed around the quarreling parties, and as he cut through them, he was unsurprised to see Draco Malfoy sneering at a red-faced Harry Potter. Did the brats never tire of baiting one another?

“…were you doing on the seventh floor Malfoy,” Harry spat, his glasses slipping down to the end of his nose.

“I don’t know who died and made you the keeper of the school,” Draco replied. His voice was cool, but Severus could hear the edge in it, and he knew that the boy was close to losing his temper. “Are you keen for Filch’s job when you graduate? Maybe you can be his assistant, I hear you’re already a master at scrubbing bedpans.”

Severus was within arm’s reach of the boys, neither of whom seemed to notice his approach. Harry was in the midst of some retort that had both adversaries reaching for their wands; but Severus could not make out what it was the infant was saying. At that moment Harry’s eyes were flashing like Lily’s often had when she’d been in a high temper. Severus was frozen by them, unable to cope with the fresh flood of grief that washed over him.

For the last fifteen years, the sole purpose of his life had been to ensure that the Boy Who Lived continued to do so. Now he knew that this had been yet one more wasted purpose, for in a cruel twist of fate it seemed he was only meant to keep the boy alive in order to present the child for sacrifice at the proper moment. Albus’s dupe once more, Severus stood face to face with his failure now, this boy who wore Lily’s eyes, and felt the earth shift beneath his feet. Students buzzed around him like so many flies, eager to see the altercation escalate to a brawl, and as he fought to maintain control of his countenance a deep, cold anger coiled itself around his grief. He felt his lip curl, and he opened his mouth to vent some of his unbearable anguish on the students before him, when a mousey Slytherin darted out of the shadows to defuse the situation.

“Draco!” said Cassandra Borgin as she inserted herself between the warring factions. “I’m so glad I caught you. I have a question about Professor Slughorn’s assignment and I was hoping you could explain it to me before the lesson starts.”

Draco and Harry continued to glare at each other, even as Cassandra took Draco’s arm and began pulling him inside the Great Hall—but the spell was broken. The rest of the students broke off into their own conversations, and Harry and Severus were swept into the room with the rest of the group. Severus’s attention was fixed on Harry, who shot daggers at his professor with those cursed green eyes until the Weasley boy and the Granger girl pulled him away to a trio of empty hoops in the far corner, whispering furiously as they did. Severus stalked to the front of the room to take his place beside the other heads of house, and the bland ministry worker tasked with training this year’s Apparition aspirants, feeling quite ready to be ill all over the stone floor. As the ministry worker launched into a review of the last lesson (why bother reviewing—the lessons were all the same, and talking about Apparition never made it any easier) Severus attempted to compensate for his suddenly precarious balance by leaning against the wall without appearing to do so. Minerva’s sharp eyes were not fooled by his feigned nonchalance, and she edged close enough to him for a whispered conversation.

“Is something amiss?” asked Minerva, her eyes firmly on the students.

“Nothing that need concern you,” he replied. Merlin, how he would like to enlighten Minerva as to the Potter boy’s fate, and set her on Albus like an avenging angel of doom.

“Somehow I do not find that reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She gave him a sidelong look, but changed the subject without pressing for further information. “Albus wished for me to pass on his request for your help this week. It concerns Remus Lupin and the American witch Miranda Rose.”

His stomach lurched again, and he vowed that the instant this lesson was over, he would be taking himself to Albus’s office to demand that they find a better way, both for the Potter problem and for the werewolf disaster waiting to happen. Surely between his brains and Albus’s experience they could come up with some other option.

“Did he?” he said in a carefully neutral tone. “I shall go up and ask him about it after lesson.”

Minerva pursed her lips. “Don’t bother. He’s gone off again, and he didn’t say when he’d be back. I don’t suppose you have any idea where he keeps going?”

Damn him. “No. Not in the least.”

“Mark my words, Severus, this chronic secrecy is going to be the death of us.”

He had no desire to contemplate how prescient he suspected her prophesy was, and he closed his eyes briefly as a chill melancholy set in.

“I am at your disposal, Minerva,” he said, making no effort to hide the bitterness in his voice. “Simply ask and I will be there.”

A shrill cry rent the tension in the air, and Severus’s taut reflexes sent him across the room before the first shriek could die away. Lavender Brown was swaying dizzily inside her hoop, looking round stupidly for her pinky finger, and screaming in terror. Severus snatched up the finger and began chanting the spell to reattach it. The entire operation took less than a minute, and it took ten times as long to quiet the overwrought Gryffindor.

If only he might reassemble his own life mangled life half so easily.

*****

Miranda approached Number Twelve Grimmauld Place late on Wednesday, cloaked in righteous anger and more than a little buzzed from an evening at Prospero’s night club. The dancing, darts, and drinking had done nothing to sooth her fury or her pain on this evening—or any other evening since Severus’s decision to rip her still-beating heart out of her chest—but she continued to attend the den of questionable repute with the devotion of a convert. She was like a shark, constantly moving out of necessity rather than desire; and like a shark, she was more than ready to bite.

“Filth! Impurity!” cried the matron in the portrait guarding the front door to the tattered building.

“Shut up,” Miranda replied, blowing a line of smoke into the painted face as she went by.

“Why, I never…” the portrait coughed, but Miranda didn’t wait to hear anymore complaints.

She let her steps fall loudly on the stairs as she went down into the basement kitchen, pausing only to crush one cigarette butt beneath the heel of her boot and light another before entering the fire-lit glow of the Order’s makeshift headquarters. Auror Moody was deep in conversation with Minerva, but his enchanted eye whirred around to take note of Miranda’s presence (and, she suspected, scan her for unexpected surprises). An ill-looking Remus and a morose Tonks sat across from each other at the rough table, talking quietly, even as they pointedly avoided each other’s eyes. Remus glanced up at Miranda, and she took this for invitation to join the conversation (or perhaps to rescue him from it).

As she slid into the empty seat at the head of the table, she realized that the Order member she’d vainly hoped to avoid was present, lurking in a shadowy corner with his arms crossed. She felt his black eyes on her before she saw him, and though her face flushed from anger and frustration, she refused to give him the pleasure of acknowledging his pointed stare. Remus’s nose twitched as she exhaled a cloud of smoke, and he stifled a cough.

“Must you smoke down here?” he grumbled.

“Tonight?” Miranda replied. “I’m afraid so. How are you Auror Tonks?”

“Fine,” Tonks said with a half-hearted shrug.

“Happy to hear it. How goes the patrol at the school?”

“Fine. Things have been quiet.”

Tonks’s reply was cagey enough to catch Miranda’s attention, and if she’d been more sober, or less angry, she might have taken the time to suss out why. Minerva took charge of the room before the American could gather the will to delve into someone else’s problems.

“That will be all Alastor,” Minerva said. “Thank you.”

“Watch this one, Minerva,” Alastor said, his eye still fixed on Miranda. “She’s a slippery witch if ever I saw one.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Auror Moody,” Miranda said, tapping the end of her cigarette and letting the ash fall haphazardly on the table.

“No, it’s a useful thing, so long as it’s being used for your side. Good night.”

Alastor tromped out of the room, his uneven gait echoing on the stairs after him. Minerva gazed calmly at the remaining group, ensuring she had everyone’s attention before she continued speaking; the consummate professor. Remus and Tonks sat up straighter as her eyes passed over them, and Miranda sank back in her chair in defiance. Severus kept to his place in the corner, one hand resting on a counter and his fingers tapping restlessly, betraying his discomfort. Good. He deserved to feel uncomfortable—and worse.

“Thank you for taking the time to be here tonight, I realize that each of you is carrying a heavy load,” Minerva began, “and so I will be brief.”

“That’s appreciated. I’m supposed to go on shift in an hour,” Miranda said.

“It will go more quickly the less you interrupt,” Minerva replied.

“Right, right,” Miranda muttered.

“I’ve asked you here to request your participation in a test mission on Saturday evening. You will be relieved of any other duties that may conflict with this, on Albus’s orders,” Minerva explained.

“What sort of test?” Miranda asked.

“Miranda, let her talk,” Remus said.

“I’m not stopping her,” Miranda protested.

“Miranda, please,” Minerva chided.

Miranda glared, but bit her tongue. Severus had yet to say a single word, and his enigmatic gaze was driving her insane.

“For those of you who may not be aware, Saturday is the full moon,” Minerva continued. “It is Albus’s plan for Miranda and Remus to spend Saturday night testing their ability to work together as wolf and animagus.”

“How nice for them,” Tonks said irritably.

Minerva ignored her. “Severus, Tonks: Albus would like for you both to be on hand that night, to help ensure Miranda’s safety.”

“There’s no need to waste everyone’s time like this,” Miranda said. “I’m ready, I don’t need to be baby-sat.”

“If you weren’t ready, we wouldn’t be discussing this at all,” Minerva replied.

“I’m sure that Auror Tonks and Professor Snape have better things they could be doing,” Miranda argued. “There’s no need to put that many cooks in the kitchen.”

“You might not see a need, but I do,” Remus said. “I don’t expect there to be any trouble, but if there is, I don’t need eating you to be on my conscience. Besides, you’d probably give me indigestion.”

Miranda snorted. “That’s for certain. Fine. Whatever. Do what you want.”

“How kind of you to give us your permission,” Minerva said.

“Just tell me when and where, so I can get going,” Miranda said.

“You’ll be starting at the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Be there an hour before sundown,” Minerva replied.

“We’re going to be stuck indoors all night? That sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Miranda objected.

“When and if Tonks and I have discerned that the situation is under control, we will release you to the Forbidden Forest,” Severus said.

His voice sent a chill down her spine, and whether it was from pleasure or pain she could not tell. She held his gaze in silence for a long moment, and then ground out her cigarette on the table top.

“Peachy,” she said, rising from her chair. “I’ll be there. Is there anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” Minerva replied. “And Miranda, don’t be late.”

“I hear you. Goodnight.”

Miranda started for the exit and heard Minerva fall into conversation with Remus and Tonks. When Severus did not appear to join them, she took the stairs two at a time, fleeing from him even before she could confirm that he was planning to follow her. By the time she hit the street outside the house, she was running shamelessly, heading for the alley. As she rounded the corner, she caught a flash of a black cloak and heard her name spoken by a silky voice, but she vanished—hurling herself into the blackness of Apparition and escape.

*****

Miranda spent the night at the Lee’s flat at Aaron’s insistence. She had yet to share any of the recent events regarding Severus with her old friend, but he knew her well enough to see that she was skirting the line between recklessness and insanity a little too closely for prudence. She slept late, and though she was groggy in the morning, she was pleased to have escaped the headache that often accompanied too many nights of hard living. Rachel made her green tea and buttered toast, and talked of family affairs and Onymoji history. When Maggie woke from her morning nap, the three of them went down to the subterranean play park a few floors beneath Aaron’s office.

It was a slow day at the park, and Maggie was soon toddling between charmed toadstools that blew bubbles and giggled as she passed. Rachel and Miranda claimed a bench nearby, watching as Maggie popped bubbles and drummed on the toadstools to her heart’s content.

“I’m not trying to mother you, but Aaron wanted me to ask if everything was alright,” Rachel said when they were settled. “I think he was worried that something happened back home that you haven’t mentioned yet.”

“No, everyone’s fine, as far as I know,” Miranda replied lightly.

“I’m glad. I told him he didn’t need to fret.”

Miranda gave a mechanical laugh. “I hope he listened. Fussiness doesn’t suit him.”

“I wouldn’t call him fussy,” Rachel countered. “I think he’s just realized that no one lives forever. Something about becoming a father put things in a new perspective for him.”

“I’m sure that happens to a lot of men.”

Maggie toddled over with a fist full of daisies, and Miranda started braiding them together to keep her trembling hands busy. Usually she could keep Isaac’s memory locked in the back of her mind and never think of him, but since Severus had thrust the child mercilessly back into her awareness, she’d been unable to push the thoughts of her boy aside.

“Did you and Severus do anything special for Valentine’s Day?” asked Rachel innocently.

Miranda ripped the head off of one of the daisies, crushing it in her fist without thinking. “You could say that.”

Rachel’s smile fell from her face. “Uh oh. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Do you need to talk about what happened?”

“No.”

“What did he do?”

Miranda threw the crushed flower on the dirt floor and sucked in the dry air like a drowning woman.

“When I was in Romania, I wound up telling Catalina a little about Isaac. Just when he was born and his name. I didn’t tell her anything else about him, and she apparently assumed that he was alive somewhere.” Miranda’s words rushed out with dispassionate haste, as though she were describing something that had happened a lifetime ago to someone else entirely.

“That was brave of you,” Rachel said kindly.

“It was stupid of me,” Miranda countered. “She told Severus about Isaac. I don’t know when, and I don’t know what all she said, but he’s been sitting there for months, thinking that I have a kid back in the States that not only have I been hiding from him, but that I’ve also not seen for the nearly two years I’ve been here.”

“Oh dear.”

“I mean, what kind of shit mother did he think I was? And how dare he sit there judging me because of some story he’d made up in his head that isn’t even true?”

She punched the park bench and one of her knuckles split just as Maggie teetered off the top of a toadstool and started to wail. Rachel hopped off the bench and scooped up her little one, bringing her back to nurse and comfort. By the time mother and child were in order, Miranda felt she’d regained control of at least her voice, if not her temper.

“He shouldn’t have made up stories about you,” Rachel said. “That was very wrong.”

“It was surreal,” Miranda replied. “I thought he’d come over to talk to me about some meeting with Albus that had gone sour, and instead he was there to accuse me of lying to him and being the most heartless mother ever to walk the face of the earth.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the tone of his voice when he said it. Why didn’t you tell me? It was a real shit-show.”

“Did he apologize? Not that it would make it right, but it might mitigate the revenge I’ll have to extract as your friend.”

“No, I didn’t let him. I threw him out, and I’ve been avoiding him since then.”

Soothed from her misadventure, Maggie let go of her mother’s breast and squirmed down to go in search of more bubbles to pop. Rachel took a moment to put her clothing back in order before she spoke again.

“You mentioned that Severus had just come from a bad meeting with Albus,” Rachel began carefully.

“Oh, so now you’re taking his side?” Miranda snapped.

“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to understand what happened.”

Miranda closed her eyes, still struggling to breathe around the anger and pain that choked her. “Yes, Albus did him dirty right before he came over. I’m finding that Albus is one of those employers that you have to watch your back around.”

“I’m sorry to hear that; I know the type. But being upset doesn’t give Severus the excuse to take it out on you, especially in a way he must have known was likely to hurt you.”

“I don’t think he cares who he hurts.”

“I don’t know if that’s true, and I’m not saying that you have to forgive him. But—when you’re ready—I think you should give him the chance to apologize. If only to give you some closure.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Rachel reached across the bench and very gently took Miranda’s hand in hers. The kindness of the gesture cut Miranda to her heart, almost as painfully as Severus’s cruel words had.

“I’m also wondering—and forgive me if it’s none of my business—but why didn’t you tell him before?”

“What do you mean?” She knew exactly what Rachel meant, but God she didn’t want to go down this road with her.

“About Isaac. It was awful what happened to him and to you, but it’s one of the major events of your life. You’ve been close with Severus for a year and a half now. I guess I’m a little surprised that you never talked about it with him before now.”

Miranda snatched her hand out of Rachel’s like she was snatching it out of a fire.

“We don’t talk about things like that. Never have,” she shrugged.

“What do you talk about?”

Rachel was the only person of Miranda’s acquaintance who could have asked that question without sounding accusatory.

“Everything else. Books. Music. The exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. If it’s possible to actively choose to be a nihilist. I’ve told him lots of funny stories about school and growing up, and he’s told me a few of his own that were obviously curated not to make him look like an idiot. I mean, I did enough investigating when I met him to put together a decent timeline of his life, and I’m sure he’s done the same to me, but we’ve never actually talked about any of it.”

“Spying on each other, how romantic.”

“Well, maybe it is.”

“I wasn’t judging. How do you manage to keep up a relationship if you don’t talk about anything personal?”

Miranda bristled. “Not everyone is perfect like you and Aaron. Some of us have been through a lot of shit and we don’t want to talk about it.”

Rachel absorbed the blow stoically. “Talking about things is part of how you heal from them. I know, because Aaron and I aren’t perfect, and we’ve been through our share of shit too.”

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me to say.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“I just don’t know if I can stand to talk about any of this with Severus. I can’t even talk about it with you, and you’re the nicest person in the world.”

“I don’t know about that," Rachel laughed. "I’m not going to tell you what you have to do, but I don’t see how you can stay with Severus if you don’t talk at least a little about important things like this.”

“Maybe I don’t want to. I was doing fine on my own.”

“You were in a lot of ways.”

“Why am I sensing a but at the end of that statement?”

“Because you’re prescient. I guess I got the impression that lately you seemed a little more stable than you used to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that after David and Isaac passed, you seemed a little out of control. Almost like you didn’t care what happened to you—or maybe you even wanted to die. There was a wildness that was even more reckless than your usual wonderful, impulsive self. But since I’ve seen you with Severus, it’s seemed, to me at least, that you didn’t need to push yourself to cope anymore. You didn’t need to stay out all night for weeks on end, or chase danger constantly. There was an alertness about you, like you were waking up for the first time in a long while.”

“I don’t know if I want to wake up,” Miranda admitted quietly.

“I don’t blame you, it’s scary. But think about it before you make any final decisions.”

Miranda put her head in her hands and blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Why do you always have to make so much sense?”

“It’s a personal failing. I’m not saying that you have to stay with him, and I’ll support you either way. I just want you to be sure, whatever you choose.”

Maggie’s shrieks of laughter reached them, and they looked up to see her splashing into the fishpond, clothing and all. Rachel darted off the bench after her, and Miranda slumped back listlessly, wrung out by the warring emotions that were fighting for her soul. She supposed that she would eventually listen to whatever Severus had to say for himself.  But she had no idea where to go from there, and it scared her. Losing David and Isaac had nearly killed her, and she’d promised that she would never put herself in that sort of vulnerable position again. And yet, here she was, in love with an ass of an Englishman who was in danger up to his eyeballs.

God, what an idiot she was.

*****

In spite of Minerva’s orders, as sundown approached on the night of the full moon, Severus, Tonks, and Remus were missing one American witch. The three of them were gathered in one of the decaying bedrooms of the Shrieking Shack, and Severus was doing his best to ignore the montage of vile memories that simply standing in the cursed place brought to the fore of his mind. Remus was pacing like the caged wolf that he was, while Tonks looked on, her hair flashing from mousey brown to a dull red as her temper grew thin.

“Looks like the Yank got cold feet,” Tonks said irritably.

“She’ll show,” Remus replied. “You don’t know her.”

“And you do?”

“Well enough to know that she’ll show.”

“Well, if she doesn’t…”

“That’s enough, Tonks.”

Tonk’s hair flamed bright red for an instant at the rebuke, but as the door clanged open to admit the American in question, she crossed her arms and checked her retort.

“Sorry. Something came up,” Miranda said as she came into the room.

“Do I need to know about it?” Remus asked.

Miranda shook her head. “No, just another customer who thinks his time is more important than mine. What’s the plan?”

“You shift to animagus. Severus and Tonks put themselves out of reach, but not too far, and we hold our breath,” Remus explained.

Miranda’s eyes darted briefly to meet Severus’s, and he wondered if she’d delayed her arrival to avoid speaking with him yet again.

“Thrilling.” Miranda gave Severus and Tonks a mocking salute, and as her arm came down her body contorted and shrank until she’d become a bobcat before their eyes.

“It’s time, I can feel it coming,” Remus said.

“Dare I ask if you’ve remembered to take your Wolfsbane Potion?” Severus asked.

“Why do you think you’re both here?” Remus replied.

“Come on, Snape,” Tonks said, heading for the door.

Miranda the bobcat was prowling the floor, and Severus watched her until Remus started to groan with the pain of the impending transformation. With a frustrated snarl, he followed Tonks out of the room, throwing the door shut behind him and reinforcing it with a shield charm. When the barricade was ready, he pulled a Graeae’s Eye from his robes and began to thread it through the crack between the top of the door and the doorframe. It was a tedious job, requiring more than a little coaxing lest the cornea tear and render the thing useless. Remus’s howls had taken on a distinctly lupine tenor by the time he managed complete his task.  

“Are they alright?” demanded Tonks, hovering around his elbow and trying to share the end of the optic fiber (never mind that these contraptions were only designed for one person to use at a time).

“Nothing has happened yet,” Severus replied, resisting the urge to shove the witch out of his space, but only just.

The inhuman baying from the locked room finally ceased, overtaken by a deadly silence. Severus muttered a curse, as they had neglected to leave a single candle burning in the room, and the uncooperative moon was at the wrong angle to shed much light on whatever was happening within.

“Well?” Tonks said.

“Silence,” Severus ordered.

“You don’t have to be an arse about it. Give me a turn with the Eye and I won't have to keep asking you.”

“Precisely nothing is happening. Now be quiet.”

There was a scratching of claws across the wooden floor, and Miranda crept out of the shadows towards Remus. He snarled at her and snapped his teeth, and she arched her back, hissing and spitting. Severus’s wand was in his hand, and he was about to fling open the door, when Remus lowered his head to the ground. Miranda padded over to him, rubbing her forehead against his, and Severus let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Snape!” Tonks said.

“It would appear that Lupin has decided not to devour Miss Rose,” Severus replied. “At least, not at the moment.”

“We should let them out then, before he gets too agitated.”

Severus was dreading this part of the evening, but there was no avoiding it now. “Indeed.”

“Don’t look so glum, Snape,” Tonks said as she took up her broom and started down the corridor. “It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t have fun.”

Tonks’s mocking laugh followed her down the stairs and out of the Shack. Severus began counting the seconds until he might be reasonably sure that the Metamorph was in place. The werewolf and the animagus were beginning to prowl about the room irritably, but they thankfully made no move to vent this irritation on each other. Yet.

“Merlin, watch over her,” he murmured, and flicked his wand to open the window inside the room.

The captives bounded out to freedom almost the instant he’d opened the way. Heart pounding, he hastily wound up the Eye, unbarred the door, and dashed to the window. Remus and Miranda were loping towards the forest at break-neck speed, with Tonks keeping pace overhead on her broom. He swung out of the window and onto his own broom, which he gripped nervously in his white-knuckled fists. Flying on a broom was awkward and unwieldy; nothing at all like the thrill of unsupported flight. Unfortunately, unsupported flight was far too draining to use for an entire night’s watch. Especially if he might be called upon to subdue a werewolf.

He caught up to Tonks and the lunatics below as they entered the edge of the Forest. Remus and Miranda were bounding around like playful puppies, chasing each other through the underbrush and over the fallen trees. Tonks was watching them with an oddly benevolent expression on her face, and she even smiled at Severus when he drew his broom up next to hers.

“It’s nice to see him happy,” she said. “Being alone during the change is so hard on him.”

“If he takes it in his head to eat Miss Rose, I shall think his happiness comes at too dear a price,” he replied.

Tonks bristled. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“If he’d taken the Wolfsbane, then it wouldn’t be an issue. But, then, he’s always been careless about such minor details as endangering the lives of others.”

“For someone who’s as familiar with the Wolfsbane Potion as you are, I would think that you’d understand that the side effects of it are nothing to scoff at. If I were in Remus’s shoes, I wouldn’t be so quick to swallow it either.”

With this she shot off into the forest, and he swung his broom in a wide path around her, fuming at her foolish words. He was well aware of the drawbacks of the potion—nausea, weakness, confusion—and he knew that taking it made experiencing the transformation to wolf all the more painful. But allowing a werewolf to romp freely, devouring people who wandered into his path was simply not acceptable.

It was a long and tedious night—though thankfully, an uneventful one. The greatest excitement came when Remus and Miranda felled a deer to feast upon. It was freezing and Severus spent many hours numb from the cold and the effort of maintaining his seat on his broom. Tonks refused to speak to him, for which he was grateful.

Dawn came darkly in the forest, its rosy hue obscured by the dense tree branches overhead. The first indication that they had of its approach was Remus’s whimpering. Miranda scampered to his side, and he snapped at her at last, missing her leg by a whisker. Severus was on the ground in an instant, and only the knowledge that Tonks was watching kept him from sending a hex in retaliation. A potent brew of fury was bubbling up through his veins, fed by innumerable slights and hurts—but he restrained himself to casting a Shield Charm strong enough to shove the werewolf back. Miranda hissed at him, but he ignored her, outwardly calm and immovable as a statue, whatever the turmoil of his heart.

Within seconds, Remus was contorting back into human form, and Severus lowered the now unnecessary Charm. Tonks landed lightly beside him, and for once the werewolf did not protest her affections as she helped him gather himself back to some semblance of order. Miranda shifted up to her natural form behind Severus, only to fall back heavily against a wide tree trunk, gasping from the long night’s effort.

“See,” she said between pants, “everything was right as rain.”

“You did well,” Remus agreed, his eyes glinting at her across the forest path. “I think you’re ready.”

“I told you I was. Now go get some rest.”

He gave a weary laugh. “Yes, mother. Let’s go Tonks.”

Tonks gave Severus and Miranda a parting glare as she and Remus vanished with a loud crack that startled the birds from their nests. Severus and Miranda were alone at last for the first time since his horrific blunder, and for a moment he was unsure what to do with the boon.

“I’m not afraid of you, you know,” Miranda said, breaking the uneasy silence.

He turned slowly to face her and felt his lip curve into a bitter smirk. “Obviously.”

When she did not attempt to stand, he hesitantly came to her and knelt by her side. Her gray eyes were hard with anger, but he did not look away from them. He pulled a chilled vial from his robes, and held it out to her, a peace offering, if a paltry one.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A variant on the Strengthening Solution. Minerva mentioned that staying so long in the animagus form would be taxing for the first few times you attempted it. This should mitigate most of that trouble,” he replied.

She stared at him silently for so long that he began to believe that she was going to refuse his efforts, and he tried unsuccessfully to swallow this rejection. But then she reached out and took it, drinking the amber liquid without further question. He knew that within minutes she would be well enough to flee from him. It was time to say whatever he had to say to her lest the opportunity never pass his way again.

“Miranda, I wish to tell you how deeply I regret what passed between us at your cabin a week ago,” he said, his words raw with forcing them through his clenched throat.

“That’s nice,” she replied. “Seems to me that if you regret it so much, you might have avoided doing it in the first place.”

He bent his head, accepting the words as a blow. “I am aware of that. I find it mortifying to have made such an amateurish mistake as believing Dragnea’s words without investigation. If I had performed even a cursory search, I might have spared us both much grief."

This appeared to be the wrong thing to say.

“That’s it? You’re sorry because you’re embarrassed? You’re a real peace of work, Severus.”

“No!” he protested quickly. “I’m sorry because I hurt you. I…ought not to have done it.”

She blinked at him, stunned. “Did you just apologize?”

“I believe that is what it is called in the vernacular.” The bite of sarcasm was creeping back into his voice, his only shield against his impending doom.

“No, shh,” she said, laying a finger over his lips. “Don’t say anymore, you’ll ruin it.”

He hadn’t realized until this moment how starved he was for her touch, and when she pulled her hand away from his mouth it took every ounce of his will to restrain himself from leaning towards her in an attempt to maintain contact.

“I accept your apology. I forgive you, even. But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened.” Her eyes dropped to the empty vial in her hand, and when she looked back at him, they were full of sorrow. “The truth is, we have some serious problems. And I don’t know if they’re worth fixing.”

“I see.” Dread was opening its loathsome maw beneath him, and he was in free fall.

“I’m not sure you do.” She handed him back the vial, and he closed his fingers mechanically around it. “I need some more time to think. I’m leaving for a gig in Ireland on Monday. When I get back, we can talk and decide what we’re going to do.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t expect you to. We don’t have to talk about it at all; I’m not going to force you. I’m just telling you what I need.”

Part of him wished to tell her to go to the devil to spare himself the agony of waiting; but his desire to cling to whatever scraps of their association she might deign to give him was stronger still. He was trapped, and he knew it.

“As you like.”

“Thanks, I know that probably wasn’t easy for you to say. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Yes, you will.”

Her face softened briefly, and then she closed her eyes and vanished like the morning mist that burns away under the harsh light of day. Severus knelt on the forest floor for a long time after she was gone, his body far too heavy to move. The worst of it was, he’d dug this grave with his own two hands.

He had no one but himself to blame.

*****

libera nos a malo masterpost+ Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object masterpost+

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EastEnders Iconic Episodes:- Shirley Confesses

Tuesday 11th August 2020

Good evening folks! Hope you have all had a good week! It's been another busy week for myself working and sorting things out for future possibilities! But enough about that, i'm back tonight with the follow up of the recent iconic episode. This episode I believe is the one where Shirley reveals to Mick that Dean is in actual fact, his brother! This episode was originally aired 26th December 2014! Oooo it looks as if the Carters were at centre stage during the Christmas episodes! Let's jump straight into it!

Okay, the episodes seems to start right in the heat of it all, I'm not 100% certain if Dean has already raped Linda? Was this the episode everything came out in the open? Was Mick out for revenge and Shirley couldn't let one son destroy the other? Mick is standing above Dean and Shirley is in tears as she says "He's your brother ... and I'm your Mum!" ... this was the first Mick had any idea about Shirley being his mother, all his life he had believed she was actually his sister! Understandably this was a huge shock to the Carter family ... it seems only those who knew were Sylvie and Aunt Babe! 

Ooooo remembering Aunt Babe gives me the chills! Do you guys remember how twisted and cruel she was? I'm sure she was a perfect villain during her time on the Square! And oh yes ... Stan and Sylvie, another two characters who sadly passed away on this soap! It's sad how many of the Carter family have left the soap, originally Shirley was the only one until the writers decided to bring in a family for her, she firstly had her son Deano (now known as Dean) and her daughter, Carly. Eventually they both left the square and in time along came Mick, Linda and their 3 children Lee, Nancy and Johnny, and of course Tina! Shirley has had many gripping story-lines but I think this one has to top them all, it was such a big reveal and I think everyone didn't expect it! Shirley reveals to the family that Mick's biological father is Buster, who just so happens to be Dean's father also. Poor Shirley tells everyone the story, she was pregnant at 14, a terrified teenager who was told to keep her pregnancy a secret. How much she wanted to tell Mick everyday that she was in actual fact his Mum. Mick can't seem to believe what he's hearing, he simply says to her "I'm not your boy! - That thing is not my brother, and if he is, it changes nothing!" 

Mick leaves the pub to escape the situation while Linda follows. The rest of the family are reeling from Shirley's confession, Stan recalls that it was when Sylvie and Babe took Shirley to a caravan, it was only meant to be for a week but they ended up staying longer, he can't believe himself that Sylvie and Babe made him believe that Mick was actually his! It's awful how many lives have been torn by this deep secret not just Mick's but Shirley's, Dean's and Stan's has all been a lie! I think this was the moment when the viewers came to really hate Babe, as she (if i'm not mistaken) was the one who thought of the plan in the first place, when Sylvie states she did what she had to do, Babe is throwing all sorts of insults at Stan - saying how he'd never realised they were gone in the first place and also throwing a dig in about how desperate he was to have a son. 

Linda joins Shirley outside, I guess as a Mother, she sympathies with Shirley, but then Shirley decides to throw it back in her face and says she blames Linda and say to Mick that everything was a mistake and none of it would've happened. She demands Shirley to collect her things and leave. She goes back inside the Vic and heads upstairs, Nancy then whispers to Lee that she can't understand why her Dad would want to rip into Dean, and Lee replies "He obviously did something to deserve it!" ... are the kids not yet aware of what Dean has done to their Mum? Has that secret not been revealed yet?! 

Meanwhile on other parts of the Square, Kat and Alfie are over at Stacey's having Christmas dinner with Tommy and Lily. Does anyone remember what is going on between Kat and Alfie during this time? There is quite a bit of tension between them at the dinner table. Where they not together at this point? Suddenly, the doorbell rings and Stacey goes to answer, it's revealed to be Linda wanting to speak to Stacey. She's actually looking for Mick but Stacey questions why Mick would be round at her house on Christmas Day, for then Linda to admit to Stacey that Mick knows about the rape. The scene then changes to Nick, Charlie and Ronnie all in Dot's kitchen ... what was the reason behind them wanting to get rid of Nick? They hand him an envelope full of cash before Dot enters the room, Nick then says that it's time for him to leave, which leaves poor Dot feeling crushed that her son has to leave so quickly on Christmas Day. I love that during Linda's ordeal, she befriended Stacey and she can completely understand how Linda is feeling, as it also happened to her. All the emotions Linda is going through, Stacey went through the exact same thing. It seems that talking to Stacey helped Linda immensely. Linda explains that Dean seems to think that it was consensual, and Stacey also explains that Dean is actually lying to himself. Linda shouldn't have to worry about Dean anymore and just focus on herself and Mick. Rape is always such a difficult subject to portray as there are so many ways it can go, and by that I mean ... the person who did the attack may or may never get caught. The one who was the victim, is left to feel so small and abused and violated and struggles to come to terms with what has happened to them. I think there have been quite a handful of women who have been raped in EastEnders ... Stacey, Kat, Linda, Little Mo, Ruby, Ronnie to name but a few. 

Dean is then seen in Denise's salon cleaning himself up, meanwhile Linda eventually catches up with Mick, she explains that Shirley has always been there for him regardless of the secrets she has kept, she tells him that perhaps in a few months time he'll be able to come to terms with Shirley being his Mum. But Mick states that Shirley hasn't even crossed his mind, the only thing that is going round and round in his head is Dean and what he did to his wife. Linda tries to persuade Mick that she can live with it, and that the only thing that worries and scares her is everyone finding out, especially their kids. As Shirley gets her bags together, Stan stops her and tells her to join him in the kitchen and he asks her if she remembers everything, he starts to reminisce and recalls when they brought baby Mick home, and how so unhappy Shirley looked as she stood by the car in the pouring rain and watched as her baby was brought into the family. I guess Stan also sympathises with Shirley as he too has been lied too, believing Mick was his. He asks as to why she never told him once her mother had left, but Shirley claims that Mick was the one thing that made him happy, how could she ruin that for her Dad? Then, Stan says how much he wishes Sylvie had never done that, Shirley reveals that she didn't want her to go through with it in the first place, then it clicks - to the both of them, Babe!!! Babe was the one behind it all and the cause of such a horrible secret!

Eventually the Vic is then opened up for the locals, Phil, Sharon, Ian and Jane and everyone make their way into the pub. Mick and Linda arrive to see everyone in their boozer, poor Linda looks at Mick with worrying eyes but he plants a kiss on her lips to put her at ease and tells her everything will be okay. Upstairs of the Vic, Stan and Shirley go into the living room where Sylvie, Tina and Babe are sitting. Stan demands Babe to leave! He's disgusted with what she has done to the family, he reveals everything to Tina. I think this is the moment we also see the fact they Babe has been twisting everybody's mind, manipulating them ... even Sylvie. She looks over at Sylvie for backup but she remains silent. Shirley is even looking at Babe with daggers, she remembers how much Babe was behind it all. Babe is acting all innocent claiming that she was the one who kept the family together and that if it wasn't for her, Mick would've been sent to an orphanage. 

Mick then makes his return to the Vic, wanting to know why Shirley was still there. This is when Stan pleads to them all to try and talk it through as a family should, I don't think I liked Stan to begin with, but over time and especially during this episode - its as if he was being the rock of the family. The one who was speaking to reason, trying to make Mick understand that Shirley is also a victim in this scenario. Mick might've been given a huge blow as to who his parents are, but Shirley was also the one who had to suffer in silence for years and years. He's even trying to support his daughter, Shirley ... when he says the words to Mick, "That's your Mum standing there!" ... Mick's eyes begin to tear up, okay she's not his sister, but I don't think he loves her any less! Only thing that seems to go wrong then, is for Stan to claim to Mick that he has a brother, that minor fact makes Mick's stomach turn and he basically states he wants nothing to do with Dean! Tina begs Mick to explain what it is that Dean has done wrong so they can sort it as a family .... Oh yes, and even Shirley claims to Mick that Linda was lying ... during this heated discussion Linda is making her way up the stairs and she hears everything that is being said as she hides behind the door, then - clear as day, Mick shouts at Shirley "Your son raped her! Your son raped my wife!" - after promising he wouldn't tell the family, Linda listens and looks in horror as the secret she has kept has been revealed to other members of the family. 

Mick then realises he's made a huge mistake by blurting it out to the family. He demands that Tina and Stan keep the information to themselves and don't treat Linda any differently. Meanwhile Dean goes knocking on Stacey's door asking for shelter as he has nowhere to go. It's interesting as they were once friends, years and years ago. Stacey would not want anything to do with him now, now she knows about him attacking Linda! Shirley then decides to leave the Vic quietly, without causing a scene. She bumps into Dean and they both hug in floods of tears, Dean is in despair asking his Mum what to do. Mick then finds out from Lee that Linda had been upstairs during the conversation he had with the other members of the family, it becomes clear to him that she possibly could've heard him reveal her secret, after promising to keep it to himself. He calls for her and goes in the bedroom only to find her ring on the dressing table. Where had she gone? Is her now panicking that he could've lost his wife after obeying her trust? He then makes his way downstairs and demands everyone to leave, pushing everyone out of the pub and throwing the Queen Victoria bust over the bar. He's clearly in deep distress and anger that he can't control his actions ... reeling over Dean, the news about Shirley being his mother and now Linda disappearing. He smashes everything to pieces, even throwing a stool and punching a piece of glass on the wall. Poor Lee looks on in shock as he too has no idea what has caused his Dad to lash out in such a way. Dean and Shirley watch as people flee from the Vic, Linda is then seen walking away with a suitcase in hand! Is she leaving the Square? Is she leaving Mick for good? At that point in time - we didn't know! Mick slumps onto the floor as his family watch, he holds his wife's ring in his bloodied hands. 

This episode was a big Boxing Day aftermath of Shirley's reveal from the day before. Luckily Linda did return and Dean got his comeuppance. Mick accepted the fact that Shirley was his Mum and over time he understood what she went through as a young teenager and eventually it all got turned round on Babe! They blamed her for everything and eventually removed her from the family. I remember now, for a long period of time, Shirley believed Dean. She was backing Dean's story, it's true that Shirley and Linda had never seen eye-to-eye from the beginning, but I think this was the time when Shirley and Linda fell out the most. Shirley couldn't believe what Linda had said ... Shirley could not and would not believe that her son was a rapist. This did last for quite a while, a couple of months maybe? Eventually Shirley did come to realise that Mick and Linda had been telling the truth and Dean eventually paid for his crimes after getting away with it for so long! During their time on the Square, the Carters have become such an iconic family ... they've been through so much since moving to Walford, but something tells me they've got many more story-lines to come! I want to applaud Danny Dyer and Linda Henry in this episode, they were both absolutely brilliant! 

I also have some news to share with you this evening, as far as i'm aware the next iconic episode to be aired next week is going to be Pat & Frank's Affair! If I remember rightly, that was the episode in which Peggy reads out Frank's letter to her to everyone in the Vic, Pat and Frank are stood next to her as she reads it out and she lays a slap on each of them! I'm looking forward to re-watching that episode! In other news, it has been revealled that finally our favourite soap has been given a date to when it'll be back on air ... Monday 7th September is when EastEnders will be back on our TV screens! Okay the episodes will only be 20 minutes long, but we will be back to 4 episodes a week! I for one am incredibly excited to see what's in store. A lot of spoilers have been revealed in recent weeks ... Is little Amy Mitchell going to be accused of lying? Is something dark going to be revealed or visited from Denise's past? Will Chantelle's abuse from Gray finally be revealed? And also - the return of Kim Fox!!!! I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! I'll be back next week following the next iconic EastEnders episode! Thank you guys! Look after yourselves! xXx

[88missmarauder88]

All right, my dear person who requested this -- this is SO not my wheelhouse, so please... be gentle. :) I did my best! Thanks also to the people who helped me learn some of the fanfic ropes. I now know that this is a

Sirius x Reader sitch that does not include “smut” lol Just loveyness. And apparently, a great big heaping spoonful of fluffiness as well! :)

and hereabouts was the original request:

“Can you do a SiriusxReader with the reader being James' sister and she's figured out she has feelings for Sirius but she's scared to make a move because she doesn't want everybody mad at her? And then they have a moment while they're listening to music or at a concert or something and she thinks maybe he has feelings for her too now?”

You couldn't sleep.

It was becoming more and more common. Depending on your state of mind, you'd either lie motionless, staring at the canopy for hours, or thrash fitfully until passing out near dawn from the sheer exertion of trying. You'd sleepwalk through the following day, quiet and irritable, desperate to climb out of your own head, falling deeper into it every time you remembered there was no one to whom you could turn with your feelings.

Your behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed by your family and friends. James had muttered on more than one occasion that you were turning into Sirius, which certainly did not help. Remus, ever your protector, had tried so many times to talk to you, most recently that very afternoon.

"I know there's something wrong. You know I know there's something wrong, so why won't you just tell me? I'm your best friend."

The look of hurt that passed over his delicate face broke you in two. Merlin knew you wanted to tell him. You were having to dig your fingernails into your thigh, in fact, to keep from just launching yourself into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder, and telling him everything. It would make it all so much easier to bear... but only for you. Because yes, Remus would stroke your hair, and rock you, and tell you everything was going to be all right, and you knew beyond the shadow of a doubt he'd keep your secret. But then it would change his behaviour, even if only subconsciously. And the boys were too in tune with one other, especially these days. They'd notice, they'd demand he tell them what was going on, and he'd find himself in the same position you were in now. You wouldn't wish that misery on him for anything.

"Remus, do you trust me?"

He nodded, but sadly, already knowing what was coming next.

"I'm fine," you said, giving him the most convincing smile you could muster. You knew from the look on his face that you hadn't mustered much at all. "It's nothing I can't handle, all right? And nothing I want you dwelling on. I'll work it out."

Technically, it would have been easier to unburden yourself to Lily, but you didn't see a light at the end of that tunnel, either. She'd never be anything other than supportive, but Lily was a fixer. And considering how much she hated Sirius and your brother, her preferred fix would most likely be to try to talk you out of the whole thing altogether. Then again, maybe you should just let her. As the universe's cruel jokes went, having you fall in... whatever this was you were in with Sirius Black had to be up there on the list.

It certainly hadn't been a conscious effort. In fact, you were entirely baffled as to how it had happened at all, which contributed significantly to your inner turmoil. One minute, you'd been roaming the halls of Hogwarts with your brother and his friends, giggling and trodding on one another underneath the invisibility cloak, popping in and out of secret passages, and celebrating in the Gryffindor common room after pulling off another epic prank. The next, Peter was behaving more and more oddly every day, Remus's transformations combined with the changes his body was undergoing had him in a terrible state, James was either failing miserably at wooing Lily or taking out his frustrations on Severus Snape with little else in between, and Sirius had turned quiet, sullen and moody. And you... you'd woken up one day, walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, and felt your stomach drop into your feet when he glanced up at you.

You'd been exhausting yourself for months trying to reason your way out of it, telling yourself it was just a reaction you were having to his situation. You and Sirius had always been close in that you could open up to one another about the darker aspects of your personalities in ways you couldn't with the others. You both had short fuses and more-destructive-than-average tendencies and devious streaks that frequently tilted more towards reckless abandon than calculated risk, and you were both more than a little afraid of those traits. It was easier -- safer -- to work that out between yourselves. Because of that, you knew quite a bit about Sirius's home life, whereas James, Remus and Peter knew only what Sirius deemed necessary. You knew what had flipped a switch on Sirius's typically overbearing-yet-affable demeanor was nothing short of pure evil. These... feelings were nothing more than your desire to help and protect him manifesting oddly. So what if you felt like the breath had been knocked out of you every time he was within five feet of you, if a shiver went down your spine every time he said your name, if your nerves went haywire every time he touched you. Your friend was drowning, and he wouldn't let you throw him a line -- said it was "too dangerous now" and he didn't want you involved. The rest of this idiocy was just a side effect of your feelings of helplessness.

And now, he was living in your house. Right down the hall.

He'd finally escaped, and you couldn't have been more thrilled, more relieved. When he'd arrived at Potter Manor, you'd flung your arms around him freely, crying softly into the crook of his neck as he gently rubbed your back and assured you that everything was going to be just fine from now on. You didn't feel anything in that moment but the pure, overwhelming affection for your friend you'd felt ever since the day you met him. Foolishly, you thought that would be the end of it. He was safe now. No more need to lie awake at night worrying about what might be happening to him at Grimmauld Place. No more feeling useless. No more feeling frightened. No more feeling.

But you'd been wrong. Whatever it was -- and it was not love, you reminded yourself repeatedly; you knew enough of that concept to know it was supposed to be all googly eyes and hearts skipping beats and butterflies, not this abject terror you were experiencing -- it was persistent. And you'd found yourself simply avoiding him, and, by default, the other boys, while you tried to sort yourself out. It wasn't proving to be a very productive plan of action thus far, but it was all you had.

Sighing, you rolled out of bed, resolved to head to the family library. If you had to be awake, you could at least try to otherwise occupy your mind.

As you made your way down the corridor, faint music caught your attention. Following it, you recognised the band. You listened for a moment more before coming to a halt. You knew where the music would be coming from, and your head told you the last thing you needed right now was to be confronted with the very problem that had you out of bed and wandering the manor at this hour in the first place. Your heart, however, seemed to have other ideas -- and had apparently commandeered your feet, as you suddenly found yourself moving towards the sound once again.

Silently, you turned the knob and cracked the door to Sirius's room. It was dark, but the moonlight spilling in through the window cast sufficient glow. He was seated on the floor, back against the foot of his bed, turntable beside him. He hadn't changed clothes, still clad in the jeans and Queen t-shirt he'd worn that day. As "Can't Get Enough" continued to play, he examined the tracklisting on the back of the album, one with which you were familiar. You'd bought it yourself just a week before, and you'd been excited to get home and play it for him. You knew he'd love it. Instead, he'd smiled at you, and you'd excused yourself to your room for the rest of the day, only partially feigning illness.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you carefully, soundlessly, turned the knob again in order to pull the door back into place.

"You can hear it better from in here, you know."

You jumped, slamming the door loudly in the process.

"Shit!!"

I swear, he's got the wrong Animagus form. Should've been a bloody bat or something.

Embarrassed at being caught, you grappled with the thought of fleeing back to your room, but that would look even stranger than spying on him. Besides, if he thought all you were trying to do was hear the music, there was no reason to be standing here in the hallway, blushing like a complete idiot. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

"You've a right foul mouth on you these days," Sirius chuckled.

"Wonder where I could've gotten that from."

"I'm a perfect angel, just ask your mum."

He looked up at you, pulling a wide-eyed, innocent face. You forced a laugh to accompany the quickly exhaled breath that fled your lungs. The moonlight cascaded across his face, highlighting his handsome features, lending an unearthly shimmer to his dark hair.

An angel. That's exactly what he looks like.

"Can't sleep again?" he asked, turning the music down a bit.

You shook your head, moving to take a seat on the floor opposite him. Instead, he patted the space beside him. "Can't see the liner notes from there," he reasoned. You couldn't seem to feel your legs, but you were grateful when they somehow lowered you onto the spot he indicated rather than dropping you like a wet rag onto the turntable.

Sirius held the album where you could see it, unaware you were already familiar with every track.

"Bad Company. Brand new. I'm into it. There's a tune on here I swear was written specifically about the Marauders," he grinned.

You knew to which song he referred. The title track. Swap "gun" for "wand", and it would be just about spot on. You managed a smile as the opening notes of "Rock Steady", your favourite track, began.

"This is a great one as well," Sirius said, turning the volume back up before settling against the end of his bed. "Lean back," he instructed. "It'll clear your head, I promise."

Sirius had pulled his blankets down to cushion the bed frame, and you pressed yourself into them.

Close my eyes, and I let myself go Listen to, oh, baby, let the music flow

Slowly, your eyelids drooped as you allowed the music to wash over you. It had been impossible lately to focus. Stress, confliction, fear -- they'd all combined to keep your mind swirling constantly, making you feel out of place and confused. At night, with nothing to distract you, it was worse. You felt like you were living multiple lives all at once. But now, with a newly loved song surrounding you as warmly as the soft blankets behind your back, you were nowhere but here.

With him.

You opened your eyes and turned your head to find Sirius staring at you. Inhaling sharply, your body tried to react -- to look away. You needed to look away. Now. But you felt pinned to the spot by his gaze. In the moonlight, his grey eyes were nearly silver, and you had the sensation you were falling into them. You wanted to fight it but found yourself lacking the strength. You realised you weren't breathing. A part of you didn't care. The thought of the pain of the last several months just melting away to nothing seemed incredibly appealing. And he would be the last thing you ever saw.

Turn on your light And stay with me awhile And ease your worried mind Turn on your light And stay with me awhile

You took a slow breath, suddenly wanting to live again.

Numb as you were, you barely felt it when Sirius's arm slipped around your waist, drawing you against his side. You exhaled. You felt miles above your body when your head dropped of its own volition onto his shoulder. You plummeted back down into yourself at the sensation of his cheek coming to rest on your forehead. He reached over with his free hand and gently took yours, slowly interlacing your fingers. You inhaled. He smelled like the cedar trees around the Black Lake after a storm. And firewhisky and tobacco and...

Vice.

A truth at once comforting and terrifying dawned on you: You had never wanted anything more than you wanted to remain in this moment, always... to let time and space and fate crumble around you unnoticed. The burning, tingling pressure in your chest you'd been trying to will away for weeks now finally broke through your barriers, but not as the despairing flood you'd expected; instead, as a slow seep into every empty corner of your being. A completion.

Please... oh, please no... it can't be...

For all the world's romantic fairy tales, surely love could not be as simple as a tinderbox boy and a paperdoll girl, broken in the same hidden places, trying to hold one another together to the pulsing rhythm of a dirty guitar.

But it is...

The answer echoed through your mind as the song ended and a new one began, and you both slipped silently into sleep.

[cactusnotes]

Analysis of La Belle Dame Sans Merci (A Ballad) 

The narrator of the story finds a pale knight by the lake. The knight is asked what is wrong and his answer takes up the rest of the poem, he explains how he met a fairy lady and had fallen in love with her. They went back to her fairy cave and at the end of the day she ‘lulled’ him back to sleep. But, whilst the knight was asleep, he had a nightmare about all the other men the woman had previously been with. He expected to awake in the fairy cave, but woke up alone, where he’s found by the speaker of the poem. 

It starts with a knight who is ‘alone and palely loitering’, which is repeated at the end of the poem to produce a circular structure of helplessness. This image indicates he is sickly, despite his work as a knight, thus a reader may almost hope for him to have a saviour of his own. As a knight, he would follow the code of chivalry, which insists he respects women, so we know he deserves a good partner as he’s got to be a loyal husband. To note: these first three stanzas are from a different perspective, the unknown speaker: we see the outside appearance, before zooming in to see the inside that caused the outside, before zooming out again. Almost like a memory, a thought. 

The first and second stanza both match and don’t. In one, the ‘sedge has withered’ but two explains that ‘the granary is full’, a contrast which highlights the differences in life and death and emphasises the place the knight is in- and that even in the best times, some are still suffering. It also indicates there is something unnatural about the situation.  The Knight then has a ‘lily’ on him, which is a symbol of death, with a ‘fading rose’, which symbolises love- the fact that it’s fading highlighting that their lost love. This reflects Keats’ life, with his love for Fanny Brawne being drowned by his symptoms of TB, emphasised by his brother just dying from that very disease. 

It then shifts to the knight’s perspective, where he meets ‘a lady’ (as if she was nothing really special) on a ‘mead’ (compared to where he is now), who is ‘full beautiful’, indicating he is charmed by her appearance, emphasised by her being a ‘faerie's child’, and her ‘eyes were wild’, perhaps indicating she is cruel, and uncontrollable, due to her magic. 

In the fifth stanza he said he ‘made a garland’ and ‘bracelets’ for her, which could show his affection (shown through possessions), the circles showing the everlasting nature of love...but they could also be like chains, as if he is trying to capture her, control her, and love her. This idea is emphasised by the fact she only ‘looked at me as she did love’ (not actually saying it), and ‘made sweet moan’, which could be in love, but also a protest to her capturing. She was set on her ‘pacing steed’, which could be a horse, but also sexual in nature, and the fact that he ‘nothing else saw’ could show an obsessive, controlling nature, as he is unable to see anything else but her. He says she sings ‘a Faerie’s song’, which could indicate some sort of fetish for the magic, wanting to control someone who has her own power, in a toxic way. The previous three stanzas all start with ‘I’.

The following stanza starts with ‘She’, indicating a shift in power, as he could no longer control her. He then mentions ‘honey wild and manna-dew’ which undoubtedly references Exodus, and the manna and honey provided by God- thus she is almost being prepared by God, which could show her love is off limits, but also her power being too strong for him. For a Bible quote- “called it manna...the taste of it was like wafers made with honey”. The manna saved them, but the people rejected it eventually and demanded more, for better foods. Also, apparently she says in a ‘language strange’ that she loved him, but this is questionable- how did he translate and understand, or did he simply assume it? It, once more, takes her power away, as her words are never directly used, only the knight’s interpretation of them. 

He is led to an ‘elfin grot’, which is also a term used in reference to drug houses, but also shows her power over him, despite the want of the opposite. She also ‘wept’, but the reason is not told- maybe she doesn't want to leave him, or she doesn’t want to hurt him, or she is upset because of how he captured her- as if he never understood women, and her picture, her feelings don’t matter to him, only what’s seen on the outside, objectifying her. He uses repetition- ‘shut her wild wild eyes’, once more highlighting how she was the aggressor, when actually she simply did what he did and shut his eyes, while he treats her like some tame animal. She ‘lulled him to sleep’, in an almost material way- she’s in control, he’s ignorant and childish. But it could also indicate a sinister, powerful element to her. 

In the tenth stanza, he describes a dream with ‘pale kings’, ‘pale warriors’ and them being ‘death pale’, the rule of three showing how bleak life is, how death-like it is without the colour of the fairy, and he is to join them as a ‘pale knight’. They then “cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall!’, showing the entitled men see her as merciless, when she had no say, and cried over this, while the men tried to control her. She enchanted them with beauty- but it is not indicated that she had something special- they talk of her hair and walk, which are applied to all.

He then saw their ‘starved lips’ in the ‘gloam’, their starved lips perhaps contrasting with the plentiful harvest mentioned earlier. The twilight is in ‘gloam’, which sounds like gloom, contrasting to their paleness- they see the world in black and white, then interpreted as a lack of colour from the removal of the colourful fairy, but now we realise it could be their narrow minded attitude to love and women. 

He finished with having to ‘sojourn’, which is to stay temporarily, which means he either knows death will come, or he shall move on- the fact that it isn’t clear shows his own indecision about it- he hates being tricked, and t kills him, but also he felt in control, and misses that, but will need power once again. He repeats the lines of the first stanza again, ending with ‘no birds sing’, showing that nature has gone quiet. However, it is fairies and grottos associated with nature, not knights, perhaps showing that she is sad, she is silent- nature (and flowers) is how she impacts the world, not the artificial (bracelets). In the end, she somewhat got the last word, but it overall reflects their sad situation- extending beyond them.

Ballads are traditional poems or songs, with quatrains and ABCB rhyme, usually with a ballad metre, consisting of four stresses in line 1 and 3, and three in 2 and 4. However, Keats rejects this by making the fourth line shorter- two stresses, four syllables. This gives an abrupt, unsatisfying ending to each stanza that reflects the affair ending too shortly. 

[pocket-luv101]

The Forest of Ash || Chapter 16

Fandom: Servamp Characters: Mahiru, Kuro, Licht, Hyde Pairings: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side)

Summary: To stop the never ending winter the gods created, Mahiru entered the Forest of Ash to steal fire and gift it to the humans. When he was caught, he thought that he would be put to death. But Kuro was far from the God of the Dead that he heard stories about. He decided to stay in the Forest of Ash with him. {KuroMahi//Greek Mythology AU}

FFNet || AO3

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || Ch.14 || Ch.15 || (Ch.16) || Ch.17 || Ch.18 || Ch.19 || Ch.20

Mahiru's ears were ringing when he woke up. His mind was still fuzzy and he didn't recognize the room he was in. The cobblestone walls didn't help keep the damp room warm and Mahiru shivered. Aside from the pile of hay he was sitting on, the room was sparse. There was a single, small window in the room and he had to stretch to see through it. He was hoping to see where he was but the blinding snowstorm made it near impossible to identify his location. He could hear the sea so he knew he was near the coast.

In the dim light, his ring gleamed and caught his attention. The moment Mahiru saw it, memories of the previous night came back to him. He remembered Tsubaki attacking them and Kuro sending him away. Mahiru's mind immediately began to race. Where were Kuro and Black Cat? Were they safe? A cold chill ran through him at the thought of Kuro being hurt in his fight with Tsubaki. He needed to find them.

He tried to run to the door and leave the room but his foot became caught on an invisible string. Mahiru fell forward and crashed into the ground. He groaned and sat up. He found a string wrapped around his ankle and the other end was bolted to the wall. The string was so thin that it was nearly invisible yet it was incredibly resilient as well. Despite having the strength of a god, Mahiru couldn’t break the string.

He vaguely recalled hearing the siren’s song before he lost consciousness and bit his lip. She was working with Tsubaki so she likely took him to one of his temples or towers. But what worried Mahiru was his foggy memory of the incident. He couldn’t remember what happened after Black Cat took him away from the fight no matter how much he tried. He hoped that Kuro was safe.

Mahiru’s focus was only pulled away from Kuro when the door opened. He saw Tsubaki enter and the room became frigid. He moved away from him to place a safe distance between them. Tsubaki was an Olympian so he had to be wary of his powers. He tried to keep his fear from making his voice shake when he spoke, “Where’s Kuro? I swear, if you hurt him last night, I will never forgive you!”

“You remember the previous night? I thought I sealed that memory away. Manipulating the memories of a god is no easy task but I didn't think you would remember so quickly.” Tsubaki seemed to be mumbling to himself and Mahiru’s brows furrowed together. Why would Tsubaki manipulate his memories? “How boring. Now Sakuya’s gonna be—”

“What did you do to my friend? He has nothing to do with your war or the other Olympians so let him go.” Mahiru snapped. The night was still a blur to him and he hated to think that his human friend was in danger because of him. There was a long pause after Mahiru's outburst and he couldn’t read Tsubaki’s expression. “Whatever you think Kuro did wrong, I can assure you that he didn’t do it. Please, take me to Kuro so the three of us can talk. I’m sure there must be some confusion here.”

“Who are you to demand anything of me?” Tsubaki unsheathed his sword and Mahiru stiffened. He didn't strike him but the silent threat was clear in his action. “You're my prisoner now. If you want to see your husband again, you will take me into the Forest of Ash. Sleepy Ash placed a barrier around his forest to keep me from entering. But you must know a way pass his barrier.”

“I didn't know that Kuro has a barrier around the forest so I can't tell you how to bypass it. Even if I did know how to, I wouldn't tell you! Your siren attacked Black Cat and almost made it destroy the forest. I won't let that happen again. The Forest of Ash is my home.” Mahiru said firmly. “There's nothing you can do to make me turn against Kuro either.”

“How can you stand beside him so faithfully when you don't know a single thing about him? Then again, no one can say they understand what goes on in that head of his. I never expected him to give his fire to such a minor god. But I can see it in your eyes. It irritates me to see that.” He spoke in a low and steady tone but Mahiru could hear the restrained anger in his voice. “He killed a dear friend over fire but he gives it to you like it's nothing.”

Mahiru bit his lip, not knowing if he should tell him the truth. He was certain that Tsubaki would only become angrier if he knew that he originally planned to steal fire and give it to humans. He tried to reason with him, “You cannot reverse death and this war of yours won’t help you move on properly. Kuro told me about your human friend and showed me his journals. He wouldn’t want you to fight with your siblings. Think of how he would feel if he knew that humans are dying in your snowstorm.”

“Don’t speak of him as if you knew him! Sleepy Ash didn’t only kill Sensei but he also damned his soul so that none of us may speak to him again. He never told us why he decided to send his soul to Tartarus. He had no reason to! Sensei was helping people with his experiments.” Tsubaki yelled and his voice became pained. “He allowed Sensei to continue his work for over a hundred years pass his death. I don't understand why he would suddenly…”

“I don’t know either but I’m certain that Kuro has his reasons.” While Mahiru was confused, he didn’t want to doubt Kuro. He recalled the sadness his red eyes held that day in the garden. “He isn’t a cruel god and you should know that as his brother. It’s just hard for him to talk about a friend’s death and he’ll explain his reason eventually.”

“I’ve waited over a thousand years already and I’m not going to wait any longer. I have a right to know.” Tsubaki said calmly. His disinterested tone worried Mahiru more than any crazed screams could. “If you can’t tell me how to enter the forest or where Sensei is, then I will ask Sleepy Ash. I’m certain that he will be more willing to talk to me for his husband’s sake. He should be here soon.”

“Do you think I'll sit here and be your bait? I won’t let you hurt Kuro.” Mahiru burned the string with his fire and sprinted to the open door. He threw embers at Tsubaki’s feet to stop him from blocking the door. The flames staggered him long enough for Mahiru to run out of the room. He slammed the door close and thrust the lock into place. He didn’t know how much it would slow Tsubaki so he had to escape quickly.

“Black Cat! Where are you? Make a sound if you can hear me.” Mahiru called out to the cat as he walked down the hall. No matter the danger, he couldn’t leave without Black Cat. He wanted to yell so Black Cat could hear him easier but he was also worried about one of Tsubaki’s followers finding him and capturing him again. There weren't many places he could hide if someone did come into the dungeon.

He didn’t know where they were keeping Black Cat so he had to look into every room. Each room he found empty made Mahiru's worry grow. He prayed that they hadn't hurt the creature and that it was in the tower. Mahiru reached the end of the hall and swore when he saw that someone was coming down the stairs. He couldn't hide or run back. Behind him, he heard Tsubaki laugh.

“Did you think you could escape so easily?” Tsubaki laughed. Mahiru turned to face him reluctantly. He knew that he couldn't defeat an Olympian and his followers by himself but he didn't want to simply give up either. “Return to your room peacefully and we won't hurt you.”

“Threatening me won't work. I don't care what you do to me. I'm going to try to escape again and again so it's simpler for you to let me go. Your extreme methods aren't the right way to get what you want.” He said. He doubted that Tsubaki would be swayed by his words though. Mahiru created a ring of fire around him and heated the hall so he couldn't attack him with his ice or snow.

Then he summoned a stream of fire and aimed it at Tsubaki. The Olympian barely regarded his attack and took out something from behind him. Mahiru stopped his attack when he saw that it was Black Cat. Tsubaki grinned at him and said, “How about I make you a new deal? Return to your room peacefully and I won't hurt your little friend.”

Mahiru bit his lip because he knew that he didn't have a choice in this situation. He glared at Tsubaki but he released his fire and let it dwindle. While Tsubaki grinned triumphantly, Mahiru was far from defeated. He kept his feet stubbornly in place and said, “Put down Black Cat and let him come to me. I want to make sure that this isn't a trick.”

Tsubaki shrugged and placed it on the ground. The cat immediately scurried into Mahiru's waiting arms and he hugged it tightly. He ran his hand over its head and he was glad that it didn't seem to be injured. He loosened his grip after a moment but held it securely in his arms. Mahiru looked around him and saw that several of Tsubaki's followers were behind him now. It would be difficult to escape and Black Cat was still weak so Mahiru hesitantly walked to Tsubaki.

“Swear to me that nothing will happen to Black Cat or Kuro if I cooperate.” He demanded and Tsubaki didn't answer him. Instead, he gestured for him to walk back to the dungeon. He sighed and dragged his feet down the hall. His only comfort was that he had Black Cat with him. Mahiru would have to wait until his next opportunity to escape.

“Let go of me, Lily! I need to go and save Mahiru. My wounds have healed enough for me to fight.” Kuro argued with his brother who was frantically trying to keep him from leaving the temple. One of Tsubaki's followers arrived with a message. He told him that they had captured Mahiru.

“You need to think things through before you face Tsubaki. This is obviously a trap.” Lily tried to dissuade him from leaving again. He understood Kuro’s worries but he was acutely aware of the danger. “His tower is on an island and crossing the sea in this snowstorm is difficult. Even if you had Black Cat with you and you could ride your chariot, it would still be dangerous.”

“I know but I'll take that risk if it means I can save Mahiru!” Kuro yelled. It was so rare to hear him shout that Lily was taken aback. When Kuro tried to leave last night, desperation and worry fuelled him. Now, there was only determination and love behind his actions. “I’m the reason Tsubaki started this war and I can’t let Mahiru get caught up in my fight. You can’t stop me from going.”

“… Okay.” Lily relented. “As the God of Love, I will support you two. But as your brother, I will help you. It’s dangerous for you to sail in the winter but I might be able to open a portal to take you directly to Mahiru. I need something you both cherish that connects you two. If it holds a special memory for you, it would make the portal stronger as well.”

Kuro instinctively looked down at his wedding ring on his finger. He brushed his thumb over the flower engraved in the gold. He remembered sitting beside the fountain and Mahiru giving him the flower ring. Did he love Mahiru then without even realizing it? No matter when he fell in love with him, he was determined to protect him. “Do you think our rings would be enough?”

“Let’s try. Place your hand against the wall and I’ll make an opening.” Lily instructed and Kuro nodded. When he put his palm against the wall, his brother placed his hand next to his. Kuro could feel his power flow through his ring and he waited impatiently for the portal to open. The wall began to crack and he became hopeful for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Kuro. I can’t make the portal any larger than this. The shield around Tsubaki's tower is too strong for me to break through. I was hoping that this would work.” Lily said apologetically.

“Don’t make that face, Lily. Thank you for trying to help me but it looks like I’ll have to play Tsubaki’s games if I want to get Mahiru back.” Kuro was about to take his hand off the wall but then he heard a voice travel through the crack in the wall.

“Kuro, is that you?” His heart leapt when he recognized Mahiru’s voice. “Where are you? I can hear you but I can’t see you."

“Mahiru! I’m in Iolcus but Lily opened a small portal for us.” Kuro rushed to explain. “Please tell me that Tsubaki hasn’t hurt you. Are you okay? Dear gods, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault that you were captured. I should’ve never sent you away like that. Now you’re in danger because of me. If I knew that his followers were waiting to ambush you, I would’ve stayed with you and protected you.”

“Kuro,” Mahiru said his name in a soft voice. Hearing the immense kindness and warmth in that one word was enough to calm Kuro. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known. I’m just glad to hear your voice again and know that you’re safe. I was worrying myself to death thinking that you were hurt.”

“You’re the one trapped in a tower by my crazy brother yet you were worried about me? You really are something, Mahiru.” Kuro shook his head but he also had to smile wearily. That kind nature and quiet strength was so much like Mahiru. He kept his hand against the wall and leaned next to the crack. He was emotionally and physically exhausted but hearing his voice helped. “Is Black Cat there with you?”

“Yeah, but Black Cat is sleeping right now. The poor thing must be tired after everything that happened. I’m glad I have him with me right now.” Mahiru told him. "I tried to escape but Tsubaki threatened to hurt him when I did that. I told your brother I would cooperate if he promised not to hurt you two. But I doubt he’ll keep his end of the deal. I'll try again when Black Cat is better."

"Are you crazy, Mahiru? Don't put yourself in danger when you don't need to. I'm going to save you so just wait for me." He begged him. On the other side, Mahiru was silent. He wouldn't lie to him when they both knew that it wasn't in his nature to sit idly by when people he loved were in danger. "At least promise me you'll be careful and protect yourself. I'll find a way to cross the sea and reach you."

"Not if I escape and find you first." He laughed despite the situation they were in. Truthfully, Mahiru was scared but hearing Kuro's voice gave him courage. He truly believed that Kuro would come and rescue him but he also knew that Tsubaki likely had a trap for him. Mahiru traced his hand over the crack that had formed in the wall. If only he could break through the barrier and reach Kuro. While his voice comforted him, he would rather have Kuro in front of him so he could hold him.

"Kuro, can you stay and talk to me a little longer? I… I miss you, Kuro." Mahiru didn't want to worry him but he had to be honest with him. "You probably think I'm being silly. It hasn't even been a full day since I last saw you yet… I really want to see you again."

"I miss you too, Mahiru. I'm going to save you as quickly as I can." A part of Kuro wanted to leave immediately to save him but he could hear how lonely Mahiru was from his voice. If talking to him a little longer was what Mahiru wanted, he would stay as long as he needed him. He also knew that he continued to talk to him because he wanted to hear his voice too. Kuro didn't know he could miss someone as much as he missed Mahiru now.

Mahiru stood on his toes and stretched to reach the small window again. Black Cat was balanced on his head and it whimpered unhappily at his plan. The gaps between the bars were too small for either of them to climb through. He gripped the bars and used his fire to heat them. Once the metal became hot enough, Mahiru bent the bars apart so a small cat could crawl through.

"Go, Black Cat." He urged it in a hushed voice. Mahiru was worried that the guards outside might overhear him and try to take the cat away from him. He reached up and petted Black Cat gently. "Transform into a crow and fly to Kuro. He'll be able to cross the sea easier if he uses his chariot. I'll be safe here on my own so don't worry."

The cat climbed onto the window ledge but it hesitated to leave him. Mahiru knew the worries and thoughts that were likely crossing its mind. He had those same thoughts when Kuro tried to make him leave the previous night. He understood that Kuro was only trying to protect him now, even as it hurt him. He tried to reassure it. "We're going to see each other again, Black Cat. Now go and help Kuro before Tsubaki or one of his followers comes in to check on us."

It nodded and transformed into a bird. With a heavy heart, he watched Black Cat leave until it disappeared among the falling snow. Mahiru used his fire to return the bars to how they were before so Tsubaki wouldn't become suspicious. Next, Mahiru created a small, black cloud in the shape of a cat. He needed to keep Tsubaki from discovering that Black Cat was gone.

He began to pace around the room and started to think of how to break out. Now that Black Cat was safe and he knew that Kuro was on his way, he was more determined to escape. Mahiru walked to the door and pressed his ear against it. He could hear people outside his room so he knew that he couldn't simply break through the door. Tsubaki's followers would immediately see him and overpower him. He doubted he could trick them into opening the door for him as well.

He walked back to the window to think of a plan. The door opened and Mahiru expected to see Tsubaki in the doorway. So, he was shocked to see that it was Sakuya instead. He crossed the room and threw his arms around his friend. "Sakuya, what are you doing here? Did Tsubaki's followers capture you last night too? I can't remember what happened clearly but I'm sorry you got involved in this. Don't worry, Kuro's coming to save us."

"Mahiru, you can't trust him." He was confused by his words. Furthermore, Sakuya closed the door so they were locked in the room.

"What are you doing, Sakuya?" Mahiru moved around him and tried to force the door open again. He could hear whispers on the other side but it was difficult to make out what they were saying. More questions rose in his mind as he turned to Sakuya. "We need to get out of this tower and find a way to tell Kuro that we escaped. His chariot should be big enough to carry everyone."

"I'm sorry," Sakuya whispered and the words sparked a memory in Mahiru. He heard him say the same thing before the siren appeared and… His brown eyes widened and he took a sharp step away from his friend. He shook his head and he wished he could deny the facts in front of him.

"You were there last night. I let down my guard because of you and she was able to use her lyre on me. Please tell that wasn't intentional, Sakuya." Mahiru begged but his answer was silence. The way Sakuya wouldn't meet his eyes told him the truth though. "You're one of his followers. You gave me that lantern and it summoned Tsubaki. Why would you help him?"

"Because he never lied to me the way you have! I didn't want to hurt you, Mahiru. You're my best friend. If you just used that lantern on Sleepy Ash like I told you to then everything would've went as planned. Tsubaki would've seen what Sleepy Ash did with Sensei's soul and he wouldn't have had to capture you like this. I didn't want this to happen."

"Are you angry that I lied about being a human when we first met? I thought you understood that I didn't want any of you to treat any differently." Mahiru argued. He always thought that Sakuya knew a lot of the god's secrets and he realized that Tsubaki must've told him. "Even if you are angry with me and you're Tsubaki's follower, you must see that this war is wrong."

"I'm not angry with that lie. Do you honestly think I believe your story that you feel in love with the God of the Dead? You're my best friend and I know you wouldn't fall in love with someone you barely know. That's not simple at all. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love Sleepy Ash." Sakuya demanded.

"I…" Mahiru closed his eyes and pictured Kuro in front of him. His heart swelled when he thought of him and the memories they shared. At the same time, his heart tightened painfully because he missed him so much. The feelings he felt contradicted each other but they were becoming clearer. He opened his eyes and met Sakuya's gaze. "You're right, I didn't fall in love with him when I first met him. I always thought he was a good person but, the more time I spent with him, my feelings changed. I love Kuro."

The words were easier to say than Mahiru thought they would be. "He's like the moon to me. I can see that he's lonely and he has his faults but I know he'll always there for me. Kuro's kind, considerate and I love him. Even though he's lazy beyond belief sometimes, when it really matters, he tries his best. I want to see him again so I can tell him how I feel. Please, Sakuya, help me?"

"I can't betray, Tsubaki. I'm sorry." Sakuya said in a small voice before he left the room.

Mahiru looked out the small window to the moon. It was late but he couldn't sleep. He wondered if Kuro was looking at the moon as well or if he was still trying to find a way to cross the sea safely. His conversation with Sakuya made him realize that he was in love with Kuro. He missed Kuro and he hoped that he was safe. Have Black Cat reached him yet?

"I miss you, Kuro." He whispered even though he knew that his voice couldn't reach Kuro. Mahiru sighed and folded his hands together to pray. He didn't have an offering to give so it was unlikely his prayer would reach him. "Please be safe tonight, Kuro. I wish you were here but don't come rushing into a trap. I lo— I have something important to tell you when we see each other again."

When he was finished, Mahiru sat on the hay. He doubted he would be able to sleep well with all the thoughts and worries weighing on his mind. He leaned against the wall and felt a small breeze on his cheek. Mahiru touched the crack that formed when Lily tried to open a portal from Iolcus to the temple. While he couldn’t break through Tsubaki’s barrier, the spell had damaged the wall. He could use the crack to escape.

Mahiru created a cloud in the crack and then expanded it to force the door open. The wall held strong but he refused to give up. He closed his eyes and let the fire flow from his soul to the stone wall. After he charred the wall, he used his cloud to force the gap to be larger. He repeated the process until he thought the wall was weak enough for him to break through. He punched the crack and the wall crumbled with little resistance.

On the other side of the wall was an empty room and the door was slightly ajar. Excitement and relief filled him but he knew he couldn’t stay long. The sound would draw the guards. He ran out to the hall and towards the stairway he saw earlier. He dashed up the stairs, taking the steps two at the time so he could reach the top quicker. He didn’t know what he would do when he reached the top though. He didn’t have a way to cross the sea to Kuro. Yet, Mahiru knew he needed to escape the tower so they couldn’t use him as bait for a trap.

He almost slipped on the steps when they became coated with ice. Mahiru caught himself on the handrail. He looked behind him. However, it didn't seem like Tsubaki was chasing him. Most likely, he knew that he escaped but didn't know where he was yet. He used his fire to melt the ice and continued up the stairs as quickly as he could.

He reached the room at the top of the tower yet the threat was still nipping on his heel. As long as he was in the tower, Tsubaki could easily capture him again. Mahiru climbed out the window and created a cloud to catch him when he jumped out. He raised the cloud until he was able to clamber onto the roof.

Mahiru let out the breath he was holding once he was on solid ground again. While he was exhausted, he knew that he couldn't relax yet. The sea tossed and turned because of the storm so it would be dangerous for even an Olympian to venture. He needed to find a way to tell Kuro that he escaped Tsubaki's tower as well. Mahiru looked up at the moon and an idea came to him.

He raised his hands to the sky and gathered his fire high above the tower. Mahiru shaped his flame into a sun and he made it grow steadily. Soon, his sun quelled the winter around them. He tried to keep his breathing even and he was careful not to use too much of his power. The chilly wind died and the sea became calm.

He didn't know how long he could hold the sun's shape so he hoped that Kuro would come soon. He watched the horizon and bit his lip. A white streak moved in the distance like moondust falling from the sky. As it came closer to him, he realized that it was Kuro riding his chariot. Mahiru was so happy to see Kuro that he forgot his fear of horses and chariots. He hurried to the edge of the tower to see him better. His body was beginning to falter but he made sure not to let his sun dwindle.

Mahiru guessed Tsubaki and his followers were occupied with searching for him so they didn't notice Kuro's arrival. They needed to leave quickly before Tsubaki realized that Kuro was on the island. Kuro stopped his chariot at the base of the tower directly under him. He looked up at him and called. "Stay right there, Mahiru. I'll get you."

"There's no time for that!" Mahiru called down. He gathered his courage and then jumped off the roof, trusting that Kuro would save him before he could be hurt. Kuro saw him fall and his heart stopped in fear. His body moved instinctively even as his mind was trying to process the sight. He stopped under Mahiru and caught him in his arms. He felt his soft warmth in his arms and hugged him against his chest. Mahiru wrapped his arms around his neck and held onto his desperately.

They stayed in each other's embrace, needing to reassure themselves that the other was safe. Mahiru didn't want to leave his arms and pressed his face into his neck. His breath brushed his skin as he whispered, "I have something I need to tell you, Kuro. I—"

"It's okay, Mahiru. You need your rest after creating that sun. I'll take you back to Iolcus where it's safe." Kuro kept him in his arms as he climbed onto the chariot. He set it into motion and the rocking of the chariot lulled Mahiru to sleep. He kissed his brown hair and said, "You can tell me when we get home. Sleep for now."

Mahiru fell asleep before he could tell him that he was already home in his arms.

12:15 am... I really wanted to post this on Valentines Day but oh well.

[halothenthehorns]

PADFOOT RETURNS

Favorite chapter of this book! I don't care you still don't need to know this.

HPHPHPHPHP

Sirius, who clearly still had that last task stuck in his craw, grumbled at Harry, "Well this does prove I was right about Krum, and Cedric. Anyone who leaves those other kids down in that lake are to be avoided by you at all costs."

Lily was frowning down at the little infant in her arms sadly, but still tried for some good, "I don't know Sirius, maybe we were being too harsh on them. Cedric at least, after all, before I heard about Harry's first year it never would have crossed my mind Dumbledore wouldn't put some contingency in place to make sure the unrescued kids came back to the surface. Cedric hasn't had the same bad feelings about Dumbledore recently as we had, I'm sure he just had faith enough not to take that song literally."

Sirius rolled his eyes, clearly not in all agreement, but Remus had a happy smile in place, clearly liking to the idea. "You gave me an interesting idea about Krum as well, what if he saw Dumbledore talking to those merpeople, and pieced the whole thing together from there."

"I can see that," Lily instantly agreed, "he's been staying out on the lake, any Durmstrang student could have seen Dumbledore discussing the task with them, or even more realistically, I'll bet Karkaroff told Krum as soon as he knew that he only had to worry about his one hostage."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Karkaroff did know the others would drown and told Krum to leave them down there anyways," Sirius rolled his eyes at the two of them." *

Harry and James exchanged a look, clearly realizing Sirius was looking to pick a fight, while everyone else just wanted to move on away from that task, so Harry leaned over to Sirius and gently restrained, "I'm positive I'll take your advice as seriously after the task as I did before."

Sirius was instantly derailed, turning back to Harry with a brilliant smile as he declared, "Well how else would you take advice from me?"

Lily and Remus rolled their eyes at him and looked pleadingly at James to go while he had the chance.

James still had a stupid happy smile stuck in place, hoping beyond all measure that Harry would just breeze through the last task and that until that had to arrive they'd spend the rest of his school year hearing of nothing more than homework and actual fun things to laugh about.

One highlight of the aftermath of this task, was Ron getting far more attention than Harry for once.

"Why?" Sirius couldn't help but ask, some nasty memories resurfacing of the last time Ron had been in the limelight, that hadn't been pleasant for Sirius. "Ron was asleep the whole time."

"Everyone saw Fleur kiss him along with Harry," Remus reminded, "and I can all to easily picture Harry shoving Ron in the way when anyone asked why."

  People were clamoring to hear his time down in the lake, and at first Ron seemed to be telling the truth. How the teachers had collected them, promised their safety, and he'd awaken when he reached the surface. A week later however, his tale had been embellished to include a fight for his life against a dozen merpeople, single handedly defending all of the women as they forced him under.

"I like the second story better," James beamed. "Its sounds like a thrilling tale."

"Ron's always been the best at those," Sirius snickered in agreement.

He made sure to assure Padma, who'd been much more taken with Ron since all this started, that he'd had the situation under control that whole time.

"Of course," Lily huffed with disgust at such a flighty girl. Ron acting like this was giving her some annoying flashbacks to James as well, so she wasn't going to pretend to enjoy any of this.

Hermione was not as pleased with his little stunts. She'd been snappish lately with all the people mocking her for being Viktor's missing person, and whenever she caught Ron she'd snap all he could do was snore them to submission.

"Teasing might not affect Hermione," James couldn't help a sympathetic smile for her, "but it certainly gets to her."

"Notes for the future," Harry said simply.

Ron blanched in surprise at her quip, and quickly went back to the real version afterwards.

"Least Hermione keeps him in place," Lily approved.

March came with drier weather, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds.

"I miss Quidditch," James sighed.

Owl post was getting delayed slightly by the buffeting winds, but Sirius' brown owl still managed to make a landing the Friday before Hogsmeade. It took off the moment Harry untied the note, clearly not up for making a return trip.

Harry was the only one who gave a laugh, the others were to on edge for the reply. Sirius' last note had not been promising.

This letter was almost as short as the previous one, simply requesting Harry meet him at an old stile in the back of Hogsmeade at two tomorrow, and to bring food.

They all sat there in a bit of dumbfounded silence for a moment.

Lily cracked first, saying with the most sincerity than she ever had in her life, "I am going to strangle you."

"Bring food?" James demanded, his voice cracking on the last word so that he couldn't have continued if he'd wanted to. James felt like an idiot, he'd made the joke himself that Sirius would probably have to steal a cake, but how much was he eating on the run?

Sirius had a torn look on his face, somewhere between he wanted to laugh them all off for thinking he was in danger like his usual idiotic self, and the rest was curiosity. He somehow managed to ask as if for the weather, "wonder what I'm up to."

"Would you please, for just a moment, pretend like this is dangerous," Remus sighed.

Sirius clucked his tongue at him in agitation, stating, "Never stopped me before. I'm just curious what I finally couldn't put in a letter, or maybe I'm just sick of owl post and want to see my Godson."

The baby in Lily's lap had been growing increasingly fussy, so Lily excused herself to put him down for a nap while still muttering about murder.

James fidgeted with the pages until she got back, honestly debating holding him down for her the whole time, but in the end he reminded himself it wouldn't be fair to murder Sirius just for mouthing off in here. In fact James was almost getting his wish, at least Harry and Sirius having a conversation face to face should be some modicum of fun, his best friend was probably right and just wanted to check in on Harry and no one should be looking for him in Hogsmeade, this should turn out fine.

Harry and Hermione were incredulous he'd really come back, but Ron brushed them off and said he'd been away from dementors this long, he obviously knew what he was doing.

"Thank you Ron," Sirius said a little extra loudly, still with an insufferably cocky look in place that no one was going to catch him.

As Harry tucked away his letter, he was surprised that he honestly felt better with the idea of seeing Sirius again.

"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph, while Harry was in such a good mood with the most recent task finally being over he couldn't do anything but roll his eyes back.

So he headed down to his Potions class in a much better mood than normal.

Of course that was ruined the moment he saw the standard group of Slytherins all standing in a group, snickering over something.

"Well this never starts well," Lily grumbled, clearly the only one clinging to her unease over Sirius. She was equally annoyed at her boys trying to brush this off as a spot of fun, and just as unwilling to argue it otherwise. She relinquished Sirius had been out long enough it wasn't one hundred percent suicidal to come back, more like seventy five.

Pansy caught sight of them first, gesturing wildly at them to get the others attention.

"I'm with Lily," Remus groaned, "prepare to be annoyed just by that."

Harry saw a magazine in her hands, Witch Weekly.

"Guess that's better than the Daily Prophet," Sirius narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

"Not by much," James grumbled.

Then Pansy gave the paper a toss to Hermione, telling her she should have a good read of it. At that moment Snape opened the door, and they all had to file in.

"Of course this had to happen inside there," Sirius snapped, "at least when this stuff comes up in Care of Creatures you know Hagrid'll back you up."

"I'm sure they planned it this way just for that," Lily sniffed.

The three friends set up their cauldrons in the back of the room like always, but instead of pulling out their ingredients they all leaned over Hermione's magazine as she riffled through it.

The piece wasn't hard to find, another photo of Harry was spotted over the title Harry Potter's Secret Heartache. The article starts by reminding everyone that Harry had grown up without love while being deprived of his parents,

Lily and James flushed in hatred already for this, did that have to keep coming up!

was at least equaled out with the love he'd seemed to find in his school life was Hermione Granger.

"Didn't this already come up?" Sirius scoffed, "Skeeter must be running out of material if she's rehashing your love life."

"Let's hope she just runs out altogether soon," Harry sighed.

Sadly for Harry, he may not even be aware of his own suffering. Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl,

"She needs to keep her own story straight," Remus reminded, "she keeps changing her own description of just how pretty she thinks Hermione is."

"We've well established her facts change to fit her story," Lily huffed.

had recently been seen in more company of Viktor Krum. Clearly the girl had a love of famed Quidditch players, though it was clear neither boy knew of the other. Krum himself had been heard saying he'd never felt this way about another girl, even inviting her to his country over the summer.

The real crux was, it most likely wasn't Miss Granger's charm the cause of this.

Skeeter had interviewed a few students to get the real story, and Pansy Parkinson had happily stepped up in the story to report how intelligent Hermione was, it was more than possible Hermione was using Love Potions on these boys.

Love Potions were banned at Hogwarts of course, and this reporter only hoped the matter would be looked into soon before someone's heart was broken forever.

"That's all there is," James finished with a disappointed shake in his head, "thankfully. I'm relieved, I was fixing to start laughing at how ridiculous that was."

"I can still see why Skeeter tried to go that way for Hermione," Lily shook her head furiously, "that really would be traumatizing for some girls to have that printed about them."

"Hopefully Hermione'll take this as she did the other one," Remus said.

Ron was furious for Hermione, even as he couldn't stop an I told you so for her. Skeeter had gone and printed this about Hermione, turning her into a scarlet woman.

"Well he's not wrong," Lily couldn't resist a smile for Ron.

Hermione stopped looking down at the paper and began to laugh at Ron's choice of words, now shaking with giggles.

"I'm sure that's the exact reaction Skeeter was hoping Hermione would have," James beamed with pride.

"Laughing in the face of it all," Sirius agreed at once, "best way to face life."

"You're still not off the hook mister," Lily told him at once. "If you get yourself caught and killed for being an idiot, I'm going to kill you."

"And just what's it to you?" Sirius demanded with an impetuous smirk, clearly all at ease with digging his own grave.

"It means a great deal to me," Remus sniffed back, his mind scrambling to play this off and blast away the worry really eating at them. "As I take great comfort in knowing it'll be my hand that'll be the death of you one day."

Sirius most likely would have kept going, for some deranged reason he seemed to feel the way to make them feel better was throwing out more jokes at this, but James was in no way amused and kept reading loudly around them.

Ron said that's what his mum called them.

Hermione was not impressed, saying if that was the best Skeeter could do, she'd lost her touch.

"As if she ever had one," Lily scoffed, "so far all of her stories have been nothing but dribble."

The Slytherins were watching her expectantly for a reaction, but Hermione simply waved pleasantly at them.

"Never let it be said Hermione doesn't know how to play a situation," James smiled happily at the girl.

The three finally began on their potion for today, a Wit-Sharpening Potion.

Only a few minutes in though, Hermione began how odd it was

"That Snape's never used that Wit-Sharpening Potion on himself," Remus offered with wide eyed innocence.

about Skeeter knowing...

When she trailed off, Ron quickly yelped in surprise if she had been making Love Potions?

"That was his first thought?" James snorted.

"Not that I believe she'd do it," Lily shrugged, "but I'd be the last person to be surprised that she could. Ron would know the same thing."

Hermione snapped at him for being stupid, no what she was surprised was how Skeeter knew about Krum inviting her to Bulgaria.

"I thought that was just more made up stuff," Sirius said in surprise.

She was blushing in embarrassment by the end of admitting to this.

Ron dropped his pestle in shock as he looked at her.

Hermione tried to ignore this and quickly got the whole thing out, telling out he'd asked her just after he'd pulled her out of the lake.

Ron demanded what her answer was, now trying to grind up his desk more than his ingredients.

All four of them were snickering now, though at least trying to hide it at Harry's bewildered stare. He wasn't sure if they were laughing at Ron or something else altogether like he was thinking, but did not want to discuss it.

Hermione tried to ignore him, unsuccessfully by going all the more red, as she agreed he'd been quoted saying he'd never felt this way about another girl.

"I cannot believe she's actually admitting this to them," Remus shook his head.

"This is why Hermione needs some friends who are girls," Lily sighed for the poor thing. She knew full well how that could feel.

That didn't explain how Skeeter knew this, she hadn't been around when Krum had said that, no one had. Perhaps she'd had an Invisibility Cloak on and was sneaking around?

"Would not put it past her," James grumbled.

Ron repeatedly demanded what her answer to Krum had been, knocking the desk so hard with his pestle he put a dent in it.

"I'm thinking Ron wants an answer to that," Sirius raised a brow.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" James kept trying to repress giggles while continuing.

Hermione began to admit that she hadn't a chance to answer before Harry appeared- but was cut off by Snape saying from behind them that he was docking ten points from Gryffindor for discussing their business in his class.

Amusement instantly gone and snatched away because of that insect, no one had the heat to snap at him this time, it went without saying at this point.

The whole class turned as Snape hovered over the three of them, Harry getting another wave of POTTER STINKS badges from Malfoy.

"Might as well glue that to his arse, or his forehead, same thing at this point," Sirius huffed.

Snape caught sight of the magazine, docking another ten points for having this in class, then finding the article and even reading the title out loud.

Lily was gnashing her teeth furiously to hold back the abundance of things she'd like to throw in his face for all the petty comments. It was sick how he was living his dream come true, being able to humiliate her son at every opportunity, when most likely he was really looking down on James in all these moments.

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. Going one step further, Snape then began to read the article aloud.

"I-He!" Remus spluttered, sure he must have heard that one wrong.

"There's logic for you," James lip curled, "he took their points away for reading it, and then reads it. Remind me again why I never got around to blowing this one to Norway?"

"Don't ask me mate," Sirius was glaring at nothing and not even pretending it was a joke, "I suggested at least once a week we hogtie him and leave him to the Forest, but no one would let me do it."

"Next time you get the opportunity," Remus told him sincerely, "I'll run interference while you get the rope."

They snarked on long enough at the injustice of this, but James forced himself to reread that bilge through Snape.

The whole thing came across ten times worse in Snape's cruel tones.

When he was done, Snape came to the conclusion it was time to split these three up to keep them on their work. He made Ron stay where he was, moved Hermione to sit by Pansy,

"Please tell me Hermione's brilliant enough to make that blow up without her noticing," Lily pleaded of nothing.

and put Harry in the table in front of his desk.

"I'll pause for the miracle he didn't put him beside Malfoy," James groaned, an honest toss up of which would have been worse, Harry next to him or continued interaction with Snape!

Harry furiously obeyed, dragging his cauldron to the front and slamming into his new seat to continue his potion.

Snape retook his seat but Harry refused to look up at him, determined not to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing how angry he was as he began smashing his own scarab beetles, imagining each one as Snape's face.

"You know what, I like Harry's idea better," Sirius nodded along. "It'd be much more personal and fun to turn him into a potion ingredient."

"Won't deny loving the irony of that," James agreed.

Snape began whispering for Harry's ears alone how all of this press attention was inflating his already large head.

Harry denied response, he knew Snape was trying to provoke him, he'd done so before.

"When did Snape provoke you before?" Lily cast her mind back. "He seems much more fond of humiliating the life out of you and then docking points."

"When he found out I had the Map," Harry reminded, "tried to get me into admitting I'd been visiting Hogsmeade."

"Oh yeah," she rolled her eyes at that resurfacing memory of him taking potshots at James. The incident with Remus afterwards had burned that away a bit.

No doubt Snape was hoping to take a whole fifty points from Gryffindor before class was up.

"The day is just wasted if you haven't," Sirius scowled.

Snape persisted in saying that Harry may be delusional enough to think the whole world was in love with him, ignoring the fact that Harry had long since turned his beetles into a fine powder, but Snape knew better. He didn't care how many times Harry was in the papers,

"Really?" Harry mock outraged with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "Because I've been putting in so much hard work to garner his approval!"

"It's too bad you can't say things like that to him without risking detention," Remus sighed.

"The detention would be worth it," Sirius huffed.

Potter would always be a nasty little boy who gave no consideration to the rules.

Harry finally gave his powder to his potion and turned on his roots instead, his hand shaking so bad the cuts weren't nearly as precise as they should be. Still he refused to respond and give Snape the satisfaction.

"I'm glad you're taking Hermione's path at least," Lily sighed, "he'll get less satisfaction if you act like he's not getting to you."

"Much more self-satisfying to get him back later, when he's lesser expecting it," James mock agreed with his wife, though she wasn't going to argue with him.

Snape promised this warning, if he ever caught Harry breaking into his office one more time-

"He's never broken into your office period," Remus said like speaking to an idiotic child.

"Technically," Sirius added on with a faint smile, "and Snape can't prove otherwise."

"That was two years ago though," James cocked his head to the side, "or is he really blaming Harry for, well whatever that mess with Crouch was."

"He blames everything on me," Harry reminded.

"I'm sure he's tried to get you expelled for every instance that went on at school, and at some point Dumbledore just stopped opening the door for him," James said wistfully, thinking about slamming a door in his face as well, or more on his face.

Harry snapped at that, saying he'd never been in Snape's office.

Snape's black eyes glowed with hatred as he hissed back all of his missing supplies, the Boomslang skin and Gillyweed, all from his private cupboards.

"Wait, now I'm confused," Lily made a rewind motion. "Dobby took the Gillyweed, but what's this about the Boomslang skin? Again, that happened years ago, I'm blasted he's really connecting the events."

"Again," Remus pointed out, "he clearly blames Harry for everything that goes wrong in his life, and I'm not really surprised if he's been in waiting to throw this at him since he found out."

"But it is rather odd," James had his head cocked to the side, "he's talking like this happened when Crouch was in his office, but he can't have stolen either of those, it doesn't add up."

"With what?" Sirius demanded of him. "We never even found out why he was there in the first place."

"What are the odds Crouch happened to steal the exact ingredient Harry had need of, and something he also stole two years ago," Lily said back.

Sirius had no reply, none of them did. This was such an inane mystery no one even had a clue how to begin to puzzle it out.

Harry stared back with a blank face, refusing to acknowledge this. It was in fact Hermione and Dobby who Snape should really be looking to, but Harry wasn't going to be saying that. Instead he lied, stating he had no clue about anything.

Snape hissed back he knew Harry was out of bed that night his office had been ransacked.

"While he's technically not wrong about that," Remus rolled his eyes.

"He still has no proof it was Harry," Sirius finished for him. "There are three other champions that egg could have belonged to, but of course he's still convinced, without proof, it was Harry."

Lily wanted to scold him this time it was good enough evidence, the map and the egg together wouldn't leave an idiot stumped, but that wasn't Sirius' point and she knew it.

Snape had no clue why Moody had joined Potter's fan club,

"Oh, do we finally have proof that exists," James asked mildly. "What did Colin and Ginny name it anyways?"

"Potter Doesn't Really Stink," Sirius offered to Harry's trying to ignore them both, about as successfully as he'd been ignoring Snape.

but even he couldn't save Harry from Snape when he caught him.

"About as thoroughly as he has in the past," Remus stated with a winning smile, making them all give a hearty laugh in appreciation for that; because Harry hadn't ever technically been in trouble for any of this.

Harry mildly agreed he'd keep that in mind if ever he had a wish to go for Snape's office.

"You just know it's on his top ten list," Sirius nodded along.

"Right up there with going back into the Forest, going to another Death Day party, and going back to the Chamber," Remus agreed.

Snape's eyes flashed, his hand tucked inside his robes, and for an actual moment Harry was sure Snape was about to curse him.

"I'll skin him alive," Lily said dangerously, wishing now more than ever she could leave these walls for the simple use of acting on that.

Instead he pulled out a clear bottle that looked like it held water. Snape asked if Harry knew what this was.

This time, completely honestly, Harry said no.

"Not that it's ever stopped you before," James said.

Snape explained it was Veritaserum, a Truth Potion so powerful just three drops and Harry would spill every secret he'd ever had.

"And illegal to use on the unwitting," Lily hissed.

Harry ruffled his brows at her, casting his mind back to a not at all pleasant conversation where he'd try to offer ideas to prove Sirius' innocence. This potion had come up, and he asked, "If you can't use it on people on trial because they're expecting it, and you can't use it on someone who isn't expecting it, what's it used for?"

"Nothing," Lily deflated a bit at talking to her son, though venom was still clear in her tone even not directed at him. "It's basically illegal to even own any amount unless you have specific license to study under a few fields. Snape would be allowed to have some I suppose, being a potion's teacher and all, but that doesn't give him the right to use it on anyone!" She finished, trying to force herself not to shout there at the end.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let him use it," Remus offered without any real hope.

"Dumbledore should be stopping a lot of things that keep happening," Sirius snapped back bitterly.

Snape conceded there were many restrictions placed on the use of this potion, but one day Snape's hand may just slip over Potter's evening drink.

"And ironically," Lily put her hands up in exasperation, "Snape still wouldn't get his end results."

"Though a few worse things would come out than breaking into a teacher's office," James muttered, keeping a careful eye on his best friend.

Harry turned away with false indifference, ignoring how uncomfortable that potion made him feel. Snape may not get the confession he'd be wanting, but Harry knew how much trouble not only his friends would be in, but also far worse things could happen. Like his admission to being in contact with Sirius, and his crush on Cho.

Sirius couldn't help it, he broke all tension in the room by snorting with laughter, and not stopping there by doubling over and still holding his sides with amusement.

Harry was bright scarlet already, trying in vain to get James to keep going who was paying him no attention, clearly just as amused as Padfoot that Harry's embarrassment over that crush ranked right up there with the fear of his Godfather getting caught. Good to know where Harry's priorities were at least.

It took Sirius quite some time to settle back down, rubbing happily at his chest and ignoring the exasperated looks of the others at such an overreaction. "Thanks pup, I needed that."

"You are not welcome," Harry grumbled back.

He put his roots into his potion and began stirring, his mind on Moody's idea to start drinking out of his own hip flask for a while.

"While I wouldn't blame you if you did," Remus shook his head with amusement, "I more recommend just asking the house-elves to special make you meals. Gives you a much less paranoid vibe."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry did manage a smile for him.

A knock on the door stopped either from saying anything else as Snape called for entrance in a more normal voice.

"So, dark and creepy," James nodded along.

Karkaroff came in.

"Well, well," Sirius raised a brow. "Evil plotting in front of the kiddies now? Poor form on their part."

"I will strangle you," Lily promised, still unable to grasp how he could make light of Death Eaters around Harry.

"What?" Sirius defend himself at once. "They're not actually going to do anything to Harry in that classroom, but Harry might pick up on something else they could be up to."

Remus wanted to remind him they most likely had already done something to Harry, they were their number one suspects on who'd entered Harry into this tournament, but he wasn't going to argue with Sirius now and begged Lily not to bother while James ignored them all.

Everyone watched as he came up to Snape's desk, clearly trying to be as quiet as possible as he whispered they needed to talk.

"Then he should have done this after the fact," James rolled his eyes, "in Snape's oh so important office."

"Be happy intelligence is failing them," Sirius waved him off.

Harry still pretended he wasn't listening as he kept at his ingredients, but still clearly heard Snape's hissing response to deal with this after class.

Karkaroff refused, saying he was tired of Snape slipping away and avoiding him.

"I would too," Remus quipped, but was watching the book curiously now, all of them wondering what they could be squabbling about.

Snape repeated they would talk after the lesson.

While Harry raised his measuring cup full of armadillo bile up to the light to check the correct measurement,

"Subtleness you were excelling at I'm sure," Remus smirked.

"You ever wonder how they get some of these ingredients?" Sirius muttered to Harry.

"Detention from Snape I'm sure," Harry said back, thinking it would be just that kind of punishment for Snape to make armadillos appear just to have them vomiting their bile for the students to collect.

Harry peaked at the pair. Karkaroff looked worried, Snape angry.

Karkaroff stayed hovering over Snape's desk for the rest of class, and determined to know what they were talking about, Harry knocked over the rest of his armadillo bile with a minute to go before class let out and quickly bent down to mop it up while the rest of the class fled the room.

"That was brilliant," James praised.

"Absolute credit for sneakiness with an excuse," Sirius agreed.

Snape demanded what Karkaroff thought was so urgent? Karkaroff declared this!

Harry peeked around his cauldron to see Karkaroff had pulled up his left sleeve to show Snape something Harry couldn't see.

Remus cocked his head to the side with a calculating look in place. "Wasn't that the same arm Snape grabbed when Moody made a crack at him about marks?"

"You think him and Karkaroff got matching tattoos?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"I think it's strange something's clearly bothering both of these Death Eater's," Lily agreed mildly even if she did think the arm thing was a slim attachment.

Of course, they all knew something was stirring, Voldemort was trying to make a return and even if Harry hadn't been having any more dreams about it, and thank Merlin for that and it not happening any time soon, it was still the most unsettling thing to happen thus far. Could these two be talking about that? It really was hard to come up with anything else this could be about, but what would something on their arms be about?

Karkaroff insisted it was clearer than ever, it hadn't been like this since-

Snape snapped at him to put that away, turning a nastier face on Harry and demanding to know what he was still doing in here?

Harry showed his sodden rag he was cleaning with,

"I'm so sure he appreciates your cleanliness," James scowled, his mind still flagging in frustration he couldn't put this together. This could be something really important, and they were all clearly missing something.

but Snape snapped at him to get lost. Harry quickly vacated the room to tell Ron and Hermione what he'd seen.

"Which was what exactly?" Lily groaned in frustration.

Next day they left for Hogsmeade, the weather finally slowing enough that it was actually a beautiful day.

This wasn't making anyone's mood feel any better. Despite the Snape distraction, no one could get over how worrisome it felt to have Sirius back in the picture like this. Danger kept screaming at every corner of their mind, and yet at the same time none of them would selfishly admit it would be good just to hear about him again not on the run or as a convict. Just Padfoot trying to spend some time with Harry for a day.

The food Sirius had asked for was tucked in Harry's bag, a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a jug of pumpkin juice.

Sirius still fidgeted uneasily a bit at such an odd request from himself, he wasn't liking where this was headed right off the bat.

First they headed for a shop to get Dobby those promised socks, enjoying themselves by picking out the most outlandish ones they could find, including ones that screamed at you if you didn't wash them regularly enough.

"Not a bad start," James nodded along, "but you've got about three hundred more pairs to go to get to that every day of the year promise."

"I decided I'd build up to it," Harry grinned, "I need to get him future gifts after all, no sense in doing it all at once." He finished with an almost vacant look at the end, his innards squirming a warning he'd better get Dobby those socks while he had a chance.

"That's cheating," Sirius wagged his finger at the half finished return to keep Harry's attention, but agreed with a smile, "I'm so proud."

As the time came, they made their way to the stile. Harry had never been this far into Hogsmeade before,

All three boys made choking noises of disbelief at that declaration, it still blew their mind Harry didn't know the grounds of that place like they did.

and the place looked far more deserted with a long winding road and being right at the base of a mountain.

A small gate closed off the borders of the village, and leaning on said gate with large paws and a shaggy coat was a familiar dog.

Harry happily greeted Sirius.

Lily was shaking her head fondly, like she'd still been futilely hoping this whole time Sirius wouldn't be stupid enough to come, and even more pleased he had.

Harry couldn't help but compare that lean, wild looking animal to the happy pooch he'd seen in this living room days ago, trying to comfort him in his fear of what would happen to Sirius. The contrast between the same dog was as vivid as the cocky, self-assured Godfather sitting at his side, ready to joke his way to the end, and the gaunt faced criminal Harry only had memory of seeing smile once.

The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged his tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain.

"Wait a minute," Remus said slowly, "you're not really..." he trailed off in disbelief as he kept watching Sirius.

"Don't know how regularly," Sirius shrugged, "but I'm even more pleased if so. It'll be much more fun to talk to Harry rather than just following him around."

"I don't understand," Lily was frowning, looking from Sirius to his two friends suspiciously.

"That mountain's got all sorts of caves and hiding spots," James told her and Harry. "We explored them all the time, even kept a stash of stuff up there when we didn't want to get caught with it. When we found Sirius wasn't staying in the Shack, I honestly thought this was where he was spending his time last year."

Lily gnawed on her lip a bit, but decided this was actually fairly out of the way of the school, and if the Marauders said they'd explored this place than that meant they knew it better than the surrounding villagers. Plus, if Dumbledore even knew Sirius was staying there, and warned people to stay away from the area, well this was honestly looking like almost a good idea. Then she realized what she was thinking, and chose not to say anything aloud, still not wanting to give that idiot the impression she approved of him being in the country at all.

The three followed him up the steep path, having to climb over boulders and struggling to keep up with the more assured four legged one, as they sweated under the sun and the straps of Harry's bag cut into his shoulders.

"If I'd known there'd be a hike, I'd have left the jug behind," Harry winced and rubbed at his shoulders in remembrance.

"I honestly forget what it's like to try on two legs," Sirius answered honestly, and with a bit of pity. "We didn't really go all through these places until we changed."

Finally the dog vanished into a crevice, and the three wiggled inside to see a spacious cave with Buckbeak tied to a corner.

"So you did actually keep him," Remus chuckled. "I never again want to hear you mock me for bringing home strays."

"Not happening Moony," Sirius shot back at once. "This beast saved my life, the least I can do is keep him around. You dragging in all manner of destruction into our flat with your creature of the month have yet to do the same."

Remus opened his mouth, to argue the point or give another sarcastic response James didn't want to listen to for once, he was too anxious to hear how Sirius was doing in person. That food comment was still lingering badly at the edge of his mind.

All three bowed to the hippogriff, who obliged back, and while Hermione rushed forward to pat him in greeting, Harry turned eyes on his godfather. Sirius was wearing the same ragged garb he'd had on the night he escaped Azkaban,

They all winced, that wasn't a great start, though no real surprise as it probably would have been a chore at best to steal anything better. Most likely if he wasn't on Buckbeak he was Padfoot, so it wasn't even the largest of deals in the grand scheme, but even something as little as this struck deep.

his hair was a long tangle mess again, and he looked extremely thin.

Lily made a noise she knew she wouldn't deny even if she'd been called out on. All her blustering and scolding aside, she was as distraught as the boys at the idea of what Sirius had really been living through.

James and Remus looked like they'd swallowed a lemon at the idea, not even being subtle as they kept a steady eye on their Sirius, here and now looking grumpy but still his usual self. He didn't even seem to realize he kept running his hand through his hair, as if to keep himself in check this wasn't some nasty new form of a mirror being put on him.

He was sitting on the ground, spitting a few newspapers out of his mouth he'd been carrying this whole time, and turned to Harry asking about the chicken he smelled.

'Missed you to Sirius,' Harry thought to himself, not looking to meet anyone's eyes. He still felt responsible for Sirius being in these conditions, and the fact that his Godfathers first request had been for food rather than an actual greeting spoke every level of how horrible it had been.

Harry handed over the bag, and Sirius began digging in at once, while thanking for the food, admitting he'd actually been living on rats.

James hardly got that out before revulsion hit and his throat retched.

"There's some kind of irony in that I'm sure," Sirius said with pure viciousness in his voice as he took in all the disgusted faces around him.

"Sirius-" Remus began weakly, but Sirius cut him off snappishly.

"What? You lot going to sit around and tell me how sorry you are for me? Like that's going to help? Let it go will you, it's my decision."

While true, this didn't make what they were hearing any better, so still fighting down the impulse to run to the kitchen and get Sirius a snack while he had to listen to this, James forced himself to keep going.

He admitted he couldn't be stealing too much food from Hogsmeade, he didn't want to draw attention to himself.

Lily kept a watchful eye on him, waiting for him to start up his bragging that of course he was smart enough to think ahead like this, clearly waiting for someone to mock him to the contrary, but when no one did he instead intensified his glare at all of them so that he actually looked pretty scary. It was clear he was growing sick of their trying to baby him, but none of them were going to be able to shake it off any time soon.

He gave Harry a grin, who only reluctantly returned it.

Harry demanded why Sirius was even here, and Sirius said back he was doing his job as godfather, while gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way.

"Least some things don't change," James shook his head fondly, Sirius had done that long before he'd been an animagus, though he'd admitted he'd donned the habit more in protest of his mother's precious table manners than anything.

Sirius looked pleased enough at the comment, at least his best friend wasn't all doom and gloom.

Sirius told Harry not to worry about it, everyone around here found him a lovable stray. He kept grinning, but when the anxiety didn't leave Harry's face, he kept going seriously

Sirius released a bark of triumphant laughter, clearly never growing tired of when Harry did this the most, before turning to his pup and stating, "no need for the clarification, I say everything Seriously."

"You're right Prongs," Remus groaned, "but sometimes I wish that joke would change."

"Not happening," Sirius stated proudly.

that Harry's last letter had left him uneasy. The papers weren't helping anything, clearly something was getting fishy around here.

He nodded at the yellowing newspapers, which Ron went to investigate.

Harry kept watching Sirius, asking what would happen if someone spotted him.

Sirius waved that off, saying the three of them and Dumbledore were the only ones who knew he was here and that he was an Animagus, still tearing off large pieces of chicken between every word.

Ron got Harry's attention by showing him the headlines, one of which covered the mystery of Crouch's disease,

"One of the symptoms being night time wanderings," Sirius rolled his eyes, still finding this much more fun to think about than himself.

and the other still over the missing Ministry Employee, and that the Minister himself was now looking into it.

"I'm honestly impressed," Lily arched a brow. "Why's she getting so much attention? People have gone missing before."

"Most likely, after ah, this time," Remus wasn't quite sure how to phrase that and since they got the gist he quickly moved past, "I'm sure if it did happen, at least someone could offer up some sort of explanation. As far as we know, she's gone without a single trace. That is media worthy."

"I'd almost rather not have the answer to this one," Sirius shivered for the poor thing.

Harry read the Crouch one first, looking up when he was done about how they made it seem like he was dying.

Ron told Sirius about how Percy was Crouch's underlying, and he just wrote it all off as being overworked.

Harry disagreed, saying how bad he'd looked that night of the Goblet.

Hermione just said it was his own comeuppance for how he'd treated Winky.

"I'm thinking this might be a bit more than that," James shook his head fondly

"Hermione'll just take any excuse to change the subject to house-elves," Sirius snorted.

Saying how she was sure he was regretting his harsh actions now.

Ron informed Sirius about Hermione's house-elf obsession, but rather than exasperated like Ron, Sirius looked intrigued as he asked about Crouch sacking his elf.

"That would be news to me," Sirius agreed, he still found the instance odd, and he'd already heard about it.

Harry recounted the whole Dark Mark event for him.

Sirius pulled yet more chicken out as he made sure he got the whole thing cleared up, clearly being the most interested in Crouch not even appearing at the event of the Cup.

Harry agreed he'd stated he was too busy to come at the time.

Sirius got to his feet as he sucked on the marrow, muttering to himself for a moment before asking Harry if he'd checked his pockets for his wand before he'd left the Top Box?

"Why would you ask?" Remus asked slowly.

"Not really sure," Sirius was frowning at nothing as he tried to guess at his own train of thought...no matter how odd that was.

Harry thought back and admitted he hadn't checked until he'd needed it later, then asking of Sirius if he really thought the caster of the Mark had been in the Top Box?

"Even Sirius wouldn't make such a suicidal leap," Lily dissed the idea.

"If the Malfoy's hadn't been confirmed in with the other Death Eaters, I might argue the point," Remus said fairly.

"But there's no one else up there who could have done it," James agreed.

"Unless Winky stole it for someone," Sirius offered, his brow still ruffled as he tried to put it together.

James scoffed at the idea, saying, "Unless Crouch told her to, I don't buy that. She was clearly all loyal to him, that sounds like a Dobby stunt."

Sirius ran out of ideas, it really didn't make much sense, but something had happened in between it being in Harry's possession and it casting the Mark, they just had not a single clue of what. Harry wasn't helping anyone, arms crossed in a huffy manner as he was well aware the answer was somewhere in Sirius' line of thinking.

Sirius agreed there was a good chance, and Hermione at once snapped it hadn't been Winky!

Sirius agreed she hadn't been the only one up there, asking for a list of everyone.

When Harry recounted the Malfoy's name, Ron suddenly got the idea that it could have been Lucius all along.

Sirius didn't seem to think so, as he asked for anyone else present.

"Well you clearly don't think much of the idea," Remus pointed out.

"Which is a bit off from you," Lily shook her head.

"If Harry explained the whole thing, including Draco telling of his parents being in the Death Eater crowd," Sirius shrugged them off.

"They still seem the most likely," James sighed, then his eyes brightened with understanding, but not pleasure as he offered, "what if it was a handoff. Who wants to put money Karkaroff could have been at that game, supporting his number one student."

They all swallowed that for a moment, but Harry shook his head first, saying very slowly so as not to agitate himself, "I don't think, I mean, I like to think I'd have recognized the voice, and I still haven't heard it since that night."

It was thin, someone shouting a curse could still manage to sound different enough from just casual speaking, but if Harry was disagreeing with an idea, it was best not to argue the point.

When Harry finished, Hermione also pointed out Bagman in the end.

Sirius kept up his pacing and stated all he knew of him was that he was an old Beater.

The four of them felt themselves sink just that little bit lower, again. First the dragons, now this, had Azkaban taken everything away from Sirius? Something of his old Quidditch love and idol of a player should have sparked a life in him at the mention of that name, not just that.

Sirius asked if they'd had any more contact with him, and Harry admitted Bagman had been trying to help Harry out with the Tournament, said he'd taken a liking to Harry.

Hermione pointed out they'd seen him just before the Mark was cast and he disapparated, but Ron said it was ludicrous to think Bagman had done this.

"I can't really buy that," Lily shook her head. "He's been a bit of an idiot, one too many bludgers honestly, but I don't think he's Death Eater material."

Something buzzed in the back of Harry's skull, and for some odd reason his mind flickered to Skeeter, and something she'd said about Bagman...

Hermione stubbornly said back she thought Bagman was still more likely than Winky.

"That I'll give her," James snorted.

Ron looking imploringly at Sirius as he repeated Hermione's obsession with elves.

Sirius though waved Ron silent.

"I'm impressed he listened," Remus couldn't help a little smirk at Sirius. "Looks like you've gotten marginally more menacing to stop someone."

"Wish it would work on you," Sirius grumbled at him.

Sirius instead turned back to Harry and asked what Crouch had done after his elf had been discovered under it.

Harry told how he'd gone through the bushes looking for someone else, and found no one.

Harry still felt like someone had snapped a rubber band on his nose, something in there was a lie, but all he got for it was rubbing in agitation at his temple and ignoring the moment.

Sirius agreed that was in line, Crouch would want to pin this on anyone else but his elf.

Hermione instantly agreed, saying he'd been wrong to sack his elf just for running from that stampeding crowd.

Ron snapped at her to give those elves a rest!

"I can see Ron's point," James said around twitching lips, "I'm sure he's heard this a million times by now, and Sirius has much more important things to be asking than house-elves."

Sirius seemed to be on Hermione's side though, telling Ron that she had a better idea of how Crouch was than Ron. If you wanted to know what a man was like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

Lily couldn't stop a violent, and rather vindictive, snort as she looked disbelievingly at him for that one. "You did not just say that with a straight face? After the way you've gone on about elves, I thought you'd be cheering Ron on."

Sirius had a little sneer in place for her benefit as he corrected, "I hate my elf, with good reason. That doesn't mean I'm not going to think less of someone doing the same to theirs if it hasn't done anything wrong. That's sound advice woman, you should be thanking me for bestowing that on your son."

Lily raked her hand through her hair instead of slapping Sirius for the pompous attitude, she found him being a hypocrite more in that moment than wise like he clearly thought himself, but truth be told he wasn't wrong either. Sirius had every right to hate his house-elf in particular at least, but from what she'd gathered he'd clearly treated the ones at Hogwarts with at least as much respect as the rest of the staff, if not more for the free food, which was saying something.

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

Sirius waited impatiently for a sarcastic comment from anybody asking how hard that was, a witty retort already in place, and was all the more frustrated when it didn't come. Couldn't these guys chill for just one second? They had no problems taking the mickey out of him in here, but clearly none of them were going to be mocking his future self...which still hurt his brain to think about so he let it go.

He was still stuck on the idea of Crouch, saying all of these absences of his from events he'd had such a huge hand in putting together wasn't like him at all. If he'd ever missed a day of work because he was sick, Sirius would eat Buckbeak.

"Best way you could have put that, past the lovely sentiment," Lily crinkled her nose at him.

Harry was surprised that Sirius seemed to know Crouch personally.

Sirius' face darkened so much, that between the menacing scowl and the dark lighting, he looked truly like the murderer Harry had once believed him to be.

Five faces lost every last drop of color at that sentiment, one question on all of their lips, what had Crouch done to Sirius? 

He whispered for their benefit that he only knew Crouch as the man who'd put him in Azkaban without a trial.

Sirius' mouth flopped open in shock, mingled disbelief and hatred suddenly burning away any trace of his joking bravado nature. It was now all too clear to Harry that was indeed an expression of one who could actually go and kill someone, and Sirius had just been given a motive.

"He what?" Lily hissed, the fire blazing in her green eyes matched only by her hair. "They couldn't really, there's no way they-"

"I'm going to kill him," James vowed on the spot. He didn't remember getting to his feet, but he was suddenly pacing all around the room, his wand tapping furiously on his hip and clearly hoping to use it on the first available target. He spat in the fireplace as he passed it but that relieved nothing, he could not get this out of his head!

Remus' lower lip was trembling, it was unclear whether he was fixing to cry or scream. Mostly he just looked diminished. He couldn't help his mind scattering to the first person that he would have called to for help with this, but Dumbledore had actually allowed this to happen! He was Supreme Mugwump, Crouch may have held off the trial but he would have had to pass it by Dumbledore to be skipped, which had never been passed in their history! Even someone brought in as a confirmed and known Death Eater was granted a trial, but Sirius hadn't even been given that! What the bloody hell was the matter with this! It only marginally explained their earlier plights and complaints that Sirius shouldn't have been sent there at all, one moment in front of an actual person should have proven Sirius' innocence, now they all realized he' never even been allowed that chance!

While Harry knew he was just as angry as the rest of them, he tried to keep some perspective. While outraged on behalf of Sirius for this slight, Harry just knew there was something important about this conversation, something Sirius was going to tell him that would make all the difference to this year. He really didn't want to be the one to call attention to himself, any of them were likely to spring into deadly action at a moment's notice now, but it spoke volumes of Harry's time here when he cleared his throat and hardly winced at all eyes falling on him. "I am begging you guys to remember this hasn't technically happened yet," he gestured vaguely to his still fuming godfather. "Crouch'll never get the chance to do this to him," he promised with much more conviction than he felt.

No one looked appeased enough to move past this, James was still pacing manically around the room and looked as likely to kiss Snape as pretend this wasn't going to weigh on him whether it had technically happened yet or not. Sirius should never have been in Azkaban to begin with, that thought had never once left his mind since he'd heard about this, and yet somehow the level of bad got worse at this news. He didn't know how to go back to simply reading a book after this kind of news, he was entirely certain he couldn't get the words out anyways through his red vision.

The book had been left in James's vacant seat, and Harry uneasily reached for it like it was the Monster Book of Monsters, ready to bite his hand the moment he touched the cover. No one made to stop him, though a few throats vibrated a warning growl that promised screaming would resume at a moment's notice. Harry's fingers fumbled across several pages, possibly earning a few paper cuts as he found his place, but that Gryffindor bravery, or thickness he was sure Ron would say, shone through as he forced himself to go on in this atmosphere.

The three of them gasped in surprise, while Harry demanded to know if he was kidding, but Sirius simply said he wasn't while taking another bite of food.

Harry paused hopefully, though in vain. He'd been hoping at least Sirius, who'd laughed off plenty of terrible things before, would at least make a crack he could discuss anything over food, but clearly it was not to be forthcoming.

Crouch had been head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time.

"He won't be holding that position long when I get a hold of him," Lily snarled. She'd put up with his horrid ways for long enough because he'd been using them against Death Eaters, proven Death Eaters! This was, unprecedented!

He'd even been tipped for the next Minister of Magic. Crouch was a powerful wizard,

"Bet you nearly bit your tongue off getting that out," Remus sighed, his voice still coming out so quiet no one was really sure what he'd said and didn't ask for a repeat.

and power hungry. He caught the look on Harry's face and quickly corrected he was no Voldemort supporter, Crouch was the opposite. Then again, a lot of people against the Dark, but he trailed himself off saying they were too young to understand.

"Hurtful," Harry yelped at once.

Sirius gave him an even look, but finally that face was starting to wobble. It was clear he could have held it for hours yet if left to stew, but he'd never want Harry to really see him like this, so even if it didn't really work he tried to force something resembling his more normal self as he said, "well, hopefully I get over the delusion that you're fourteen. Obviously you're much older and I just need my eyes checked."

While it was clear he was going for a joke and apology all at the same time, Harry still grumbled mutinously for a bit, wondering if Sirius would reach the same conclusion in his own time.

Ron said in protest that's what his dad had told him, why wouldn't Sirius give them a try?

A grin flashed across Sirius' thin face.

"That's why you need to keep Ron around, it's good to know he can still get to me." Sirius sighed, losing the fight to keep himself tensed for a fight and instead slumping back in his seat, now just looking defeated. It was almost as bad as his anger, like he'd accepted this was his fate to come and he may as well enjoy himself in the meantime.

Everyone else refused to believe that, whatever self-punishment Sirius clearly still felt towards himself had not gone away no matter the farce he put up, but around a dry throat all James could do was what he'd always fall back on. Pick on his best friend. "Oh, now you agree with me, after the fact. Typical of you."

Sirius listlessly stuck his tongue out at him, the gesture more pouting than admitting a point like normal.

He agreed he'd give them a try, pacing back and forth a few more times before beginning.

Remus couldn't stop just the smallest of smiles gracing his features. James and Sirius were so alike sometimes, about things they didn't even realize. Only one instance being that they both tended to pace when they were upset or thinking hard, like the motion helped generate better ideas for them.

He began by recounting how it had felt to the rest of the world for Voldemort to be all powerful, no one to trust and no one to turn to. People did terrible things and no one could stop them.

"Don't have to think too hard to imagine that," Sirius muttered at Harry's side, going slightly cross eyed at himself saying this in past tense. It probably still felt like days ago to an after Azkaban Sirius, where time didn't mean much in that prison except endless torture.

You were scared for yourself, your family, everyone you cared about. Every time you turned around there was more news of death, disappearances, and even torture. The Ministry was not keeping a handle on anything, and Muggles were dying left and right.

There was nothing but panic in everyone.

"You do a lovely painting, I thought James was the artist," Remus quipped at Sirius loudly enough to be heard this time.

Sirius gave him a pleased enough smile, he'd heard that hint of longing in Remus' voice for this to be a past rather than present. James didn't find it nearly as funny, giving him a light swat on his next pass through, but at least he'd tucked his wand away.

Times like that brought out the best in some, and the worst in others.

"Clearly some people shouldn't be in this at all," Lily said flatly.

Crouch had been a rising star from the beginning, a voice for the Ministry that they weren't going to let this stand. He dealt out the harshest punishments on anyone slightly associated with Voldemort, granted powers to Aurors for people to be killed rather than captured. Sirius hadn't been the only one to get sent away without a trial.

Harry couldn't get that out without stuttering a bit, knowing it was foolish to fear for his life from them but it still wasn't passing easily through their ears without inciting more violent outbursts; made all the worse at the realization Sirius wasn't the only one treated like this. Yet more innocent people had likely died in this place because of Crouch!

Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects.

Lily blanched in horror. Talk of that was being passed along now, clearly it had gone through. She had been talking to her boys about this just last week, it was the root of all their snide comments about Crouch following whatever rules he saw fit.

Crouch became as ruthless as those he was fighting. Most seemed to agree with his methods and were begging him to take the top spot. When Voldemort vanished, it seemed obvious Crouch would get just that.

Remus opened his mouth to ask how on earth Sirius would know a thing like that, he'd been in prison by the time that came about, but not only did no one here know the answer, it would only be a sharp reminder in an already ugly room.

Then it all changed when Crouch's own son was brought in with a group of Death Eaters.

Harry got a zing tracing from the peak of his scar, marking all the way down to his toes. That was it, that was the bit of crucial information he was so sure he learned from Sirius. What on earth significant could that hold?

"Crouch has a son?" James asked in surprise, his steps finally faltering as his murderous thoughts were derailed and he was successfully pulled fully back into the story.

"I've never heard that," Lily said in shock. "I mean, sure I don't know the family members of everyone in my department, but I usually at least know who does and doesn't have kids. He's never mentioned it."

"Didn't you hear the rest of that?" Remus asked with disgust. "I can understand why if he's been hanging around Death Eaters, I wouldn't go parading that around in that sort of job."

Maybe before they'd have felt bad for Crouch, none of them could imagine what it would feel like for Harry to turn to Voldemort's side, but now that they knew what Crouch would indubitably do, all they felt was more hatred for the guy. He was clearly making examples out of others to show distance from his child, most likely why he'd never even mentioned him. That fallout had landed on Sirius for one.

Hermione was shocked to hear Crouch has a son?

Sirius agreed, while throwing himself back into the dirt. He tossed all his leftover bones to Buckbeak, while he continued saying it had come as a nasty shock for Crouch's own family to be pushed into the spotlight like that. It was probably his own fault, he should have gone home early for once and spent time with his own kid.

He then found the loaf of bread and began wolfing that down.

"I don't think I eat like Moony?" Sirius told Harry innocently, now receiving a slap from James as he passed him next. Sirius didn't regret it, as the lame joke finally ceased his best friend's incessant tread and he slammed back down on Harry's other side mutinously.

"Oh give that back," he grumbled, offering his hand out while Harry watched him uneasily. "I might need it to crack his head open next."

Harry gave it back, a little too willingly in Sirius' heads opinion, and James forced himself to continue reading. He still wasn't happy about it, but wearing out the carpet wasn't helping him, at least this way he could read past Sirius' insistent jokes rather than letting Harry laugh at them like he was prone to do.

Harry asked if his son really was a Death Eater?

For some reason Harry wanted to laugh at the question from himself, something in him clamoring to say that was obvious, of course he was, but the feeling subsided instantly and Harry was instead left listening to the blistering tones of James forcing himself to read about Crouch's personal life rather than him being burned alive.

Sirius said he had no clue if he'd really been, while stuffing himself with bread.

"You're going to make yourself sick," Lily couldn't help but scold maternally. "You've gone from hardly eating a thing to a lot of greasy and heavy foods. What good's that going to do you?"

"Yes mum," Sirius rolled his eyes at her, trying to hide his flashing smile.

He was in Azkaban when the guy was brought in,

James could not ever get that out without some interesting colorful tones threatening violence and death for that having to be a thing.

this was all stuff he'd found out after he'd escaped.

Remus still wanted to ask where that could have been from, even vaguely hoping it could have been from himself though unlikely as he didn't particularly keep up with politics, but then again Remus like to think he'd have at least kept an eye on Crouch; the man who did this to Sirius. Was that giving himself too much credit, since he clearly hadn't cared a lick for Sirius during this time? Great, now he was depressing himself as much as he was over Sirius.

The boy was certainly caught in the company Sirius would bet his life were Death Eaters, but it could have been wrong place, wrong time like the elf.

"Surprised you used a house-elf over yourself in that instance," Lily whispered softly.

Sirius watched her steadily for a moment, his expression hard to read as he told, "I got caught because I didn't run Lily, that's hardly wrong time and place."

His face spasmed, showing the deep regret and hate he had for himself, letting himself get caught, this stupid situation still falling on him though that rat had set everything in motion. He controlled himself quick enough, that cocky mask back in place as he added on to egg her on, "thought that would have given me some brownie points from you? I just compared myself to a lowly house-elf."

She shook her head fondly at him, she wasn't going to rise to Sirius' bait.

Hermione asked how hard Crouch had tried to get his son off?

Sirius let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Always a warning of trouble," Remus muttered.

Sirius grinned and gave Harry a wink, he'd never thought to describe his type of laugh like that, but he loved Harry putting it like that for him.

Telling her he'd thought she realized better.

"I would have thought he'd think more of his child than his elf," Lily squeaked. She hadn't gained back any of her normal color tone, the fresh news of Sirius' incarceration still heavy on everyone, but still she somehow managed to look all the worse at this news.

"I'm not even going to pretend to be surprised," James muttered lowly, he now knew he'd never put anything past Crouch after what he'd just had further evidence of.

Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial,

"Oh well hallelujah he gives someone one!" Remus snapped instantly, his spine threatening to crack in half he jerked so hard at that statement.

and the whole show had been so everyone could see how much he hated the boy before he was given to the dementors.

Sirius read the shock on Harry's face and nodded along, not looking remotely amused as he told how they'd brought him right past his own bars.

James made a sound like a kicked puppy, the image swimming before his eyes of Sirius' wasted face having to look through bars and watch all of this, hearing the screams of this guy shouting all this. He shook himself so hard to shake that off he nearly tossed his glasses across the room and forced himself to keep going, anything to focus on rather than that.

He'd couldn't have been more than nineteen, screaming for his mother to help him, but he'd gone quiet by nightfall, most of them did. Except the ones who continued even in their sleep.

Sirius couldn't pretend anymore. He'd been trying to force this off since he'd found out what Crouch had done to him, but everything in him was crumbling at the dead way James was reading that. He started shaking so violently the couch trembled with him, his fingers digging into the cushion to anchor him to this life right here, and they'd have to wrench it away from his limp fingers before he wound up like that.

Harry didn't even think about it this time as he wormed up to Sirius, pulling him into a hug for protection, but words failed him. He still held a deep sense of regret whenever he thought too hard about comforting Sirius, something in Harry telling him his godfather was doomed which wasn't a pleasant thing at all to be considering in light of this.

Lily reacted much better, scrambling to her feet and perching on the arm of the sofa, running her nails gently through his hair and promising, "It's alright Padfoot, that's not happening."

The oddity of Lily calling him that managed to win out, his movements going from violent shaking, to jerking, and finally stilling. He remained hunched in on himself, hardly speaking loud enough, "I don't want to end up like that."

"You won't," Remus croaked, even that had been hard to force out past his tight chest, but it was worth it when Sirius glanced up at him. His dark gray eyes were at war, he wanted to believe him but the image had trapped him better than any Devil's Snare.

Remus sighed, he knew he would regret what he was fixing to do, but at this point he'd suffer for it just to take that look off of his friends face. He gave James a steady look as he sated, "I'm serious."

James reacted almost instantly, some things really never died as he remarked, "Nope, he is," giving Sirius a winning smile.

Sirius blinked spastically at the pair of them before tackling both of them with a hug, then laughing his arse of as he declared, "you haven't done that since first year!" It was mostly for show, but Sirius would rather pet a dragon than let his friends get away with doing this.

"That joke wore off after Christmas, you were the only one who wouldn't let it go after the fact," Remus reminded.

Still not completely able to hide swimming eyes, Sirius forced himself back to his seat and caught Lily before she could sneak away. "Thanks sis," without a hint of mocking.

She met his eyes steadily, while flicking his nose like scolding a dog and saying, "you're welcome love."

Sirius rubbed absently at his nose, but knew he'd take that over the wallop he knew she owed him.

James watched Sirius steadily for a few moments longer, but he considered it mission accomplished when his best friend turned back to him expectantly, waving his hand theatrically for James to continue. James knew a farce when he saw one, Sirius was still on the verge of a real panic attack again at his life heading towards that prison, but James would be remiss if he just sat here and let Sirius wallow in that instead of finding something else to do.

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius' eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

No one in here needed to picture that, they'd just gotten the live version, and hoped to never see it again. That fact that he was all alone in there, with no one to really turn that light back on, caused the room to feel as if it had been iced over already with a dementors presence.

Harry asked if he was still in Azkaban, and Sirius corrected he was dead. Died less than a year after he'd been brought in.

At their surprise, Sirius bitterly agreed most who went mad in there, stopped eating soon enough.

Sirius suddenly wasn't Sirius anymore, but instead had poofed into Padfoot for no clear reason other than to bark in Harry's ear, lunge across his lap and lick obstinately at James' ear, and then start running around the room, only pausing to occasionally bite at his tail. The others weren't sure whether to laugh or call for a Mediwizard, whether it would have worked or not, as they wondered if he'd really just snapped, but then he froze, fur bristling at James. James more than anyone was used to figuring out silent language, and the intent was clear, 'get on with it.'

He couldn't believe himself when he actually managed a weak chuckle, but he supposed the logic was sound. Sirius had survived that place as Padfoot for twelve years, he clearly felt he was only going to get through the rest of this mess in the same state.

Most lost the will to live, and you could always tell when a death was coming, it was when the dementors got the most excited.

Remus had never wished to be Moony in his life, but he suddenly envied Sirius. He still understood what they were saying, as he kept his tail high in the air and sniffed at Remus' boots most likely out of sheer something else to do with himself, but it was in a more simplistic nature filtered through those ears. He could still process everything being said and yet not have to face a reaction, something they all were wishing for by this time.

Crouch's boy had looked sick enough being brought in. His father's position being what it was, Crouch and his wife had been allowed a visit to the deathbed. That was the last time Crouch saw his son, half carrying his dead wife past Sirius' own cell.

If Harry hadn't been so distracted watching Padfoot suddenly leap onto his lap, which he was far too big for, Harry knew he would have considered much more carefully the significance of that.

James reached over absently and gave Sirius a mock pat on the head, a silent promise this was all almost over.

Mrs. Crouch had died not long after, grief most likely. Crouch had never come again for his son's body, and the dementors had buried it just outside the prison, Sirius had watched them do it.

James was entirely sure that was bile slicking over his tongue, his hand suddenly trembling in the fur. The distraction of the wet tongue lapping at his fingers, and then Sirius leaping cleanly over the table to start chasing his tail again the only thing that saved another vomiting session appearing. James was sorely tempted by this point to pass the book to Harry and join him as Prongs, on his life he'd never forced himself to read anything as painful as Sirius recounting his time in Azkaban.

Harry had no want to ask about Azkaban when it had been such a horrid topic for Sirius, but the question had lingered in the back of his mind so he figured he could ask now, which seemed fairer than later when he'd have to see Sirius' face again. "If only prisoners and Dementors are in Azkaban, how does that work? How do the prisoners get fed, and like go to the bathroom and stuff?"

"There's bathrooms in the cells, and the food's shipped in," Lily sighed heavily, building up a mental rant in her head she was going to save for Sirius' human ears about him tearing around her carpet with those huge feet that had unclipped claws on the end. If he tore stitches out of her rug, she was going to make him repair that without magic.

Harry did not press for more, knowing he'd pushed his luck for now when James kept going without waiting to see if Harry was done for once.

Sirius didn't bother finishing what was left of his bread, throwing that to Buckbeak as well as he went for the pumpkin juice and draining half of it in one long gulp.

Wiping the rest off his lips, he continued explaining that Crouch had lost all his popularity in that one move. Going from the hero, to the town gossip. People judged him for what had become of his son, thinking if he'd spent more time with him he wouldn't have turned out like that.

"I believe that," Remus said at once, he couldn't wrap his mind around Crouch caring about anything ever again. Not after all this.

So now Fudge had the job, and Crouch was shunted to another department.

Silence beat through the cave after all that. Harry felt he finally understood Crouch's overreaction to finding Winky under the Dark Mark.

"Makes a twisted amount of sense," Lily sighed in agreement.

He'd probably been having flashbacks to a time when his own son had been accused of the same Dark Arts.

Harry told Sirius about how Moody thought Crouch was obsessed with catching Dark wizards.

Sirius nodded along, saying that didn't surprise him. Sirius guessed Crouch was under the delusion if he caught just one more Death Eater, his name would be popular again.

"Let's hope it's a real one, and not just a name," James murmured to himself, keeping an eye on the dog that was finally pretending like he was going to settle, stretching out in front of the fire and closing his eyes, but keeping his ears perked and listening. The message was clear, he'd change back when the chapter was over, he wasn't risking anything else until otherwise.

Ron finished with triumph that was the reason he'd gone into Snape's office.

"Triumphantly?" Remus tore his own protective eyes away from Padfoot to look curiously at James and the book. "What did Ron just latch onto?"

"You're clearly not following along anymore," Lily snorted at him. "Ron's as convinced as we are Snape's a Death Eater, and I can't say I'll be displeased if Crouch does put him away for it," she finished nastily.

"I got that," he waved her off, "but was anyone disagreeing for him to be throwing that around?"

Lily shrugged without response for that.

Sirius shook his head and said that didn't make any sense.

"Apparently Sirius is," Harry noted, looking to his godfather in surprise, who was still pretending he was asleep, clearly not even up to defending himself and still content to let the book do it.

Ron tried to argue back, but Sirius waved him down, pointing out if Crouch wanted to spy on Snape he'd have the perfect opportunity by coming to all these Hogwarts events.

A sharp breath of air was released from the wet slit nostrils, if a dog could be quietly yet smugly triumphant Padfoot was doing it.

"Oh hush you," James sighed without looking up, "if you were thinking it, you should have said it."

Harry asked if Sirius thought Snape was up to anything?

Hermione pointed out Dumbledore clearly trusted Snape,

"And that means nothing to us," Lily said bitterly, her temper flaring at the mention of his name as well as Crouch's.

but Ron cut her off by saying as brilliant as Dumbledore was, it didn't mean a Dark wizard couldn't pull one over on him.

She shot back why had Snape saved Harry's life in first year then?

"Things change," James snapped sourly, "Voldemort hadn't been on the verge of a comeback then. Clearly his priorities went from hating me yet still heeding being a teacher, to appeasing Riddle."

One sharp bark of a laughter came from Padfoot, his tail wagging from side to side a bit at that.

"I remember agreeing to call him that," Remus smirked at James as well. "I'm glad you didn't let us forget."

Harry cut off their argument by asking Sirius' opinion, which shut the other two up.

Lily pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smile, she wasn't going to let Sirius see how amusing she found it Sirius had managed to stop those kids picking at each other, when Sirius was the source of nearly every fight going on in here.

Sirius admitted they both had a good point. He'd been blasted to find out Snape was working at Hogwarts, he'd always been fascinated by the Dark Arts even as a slimy little kid.

"He just hit the tip of the iceberg," Remus shook his head fondly. "I've heard worse things from him on his good days about Snape." Clearly Sirius was still as lost in his own thoughts in that time to have used such mild insults.

Snape had known more curses coming into that school than some seventh years, and his gang of Slytherin friends had all turned into Death Eaters.

Lily bit at the inside of her cheek, pain welling up inside her chest as she fought to try and say otherwise. Even though she knew the truth, it still hurt that had ended up being so true.

He began ticking off those old names, Rosier and Wilkes who were killed by Aurors after Voldemort fell,

"Wicked," the three Order members suddenly perked up at that information, any failed Death Eaters was good news for them, especially in light of the fact they'd yet to come across a single member of their own group who'd survived past Voldemort's downfall as well.

the Lestranges who were a married couple in Azkaban,

Sirius made a 'humph' noise from his spot on the hearth, and Harry didn't need a translator to realize Sirius was adamantly saying they more than deserved it.

Avery, who'd talked himself out of a cell by saying he'd been under the Imperius curse.

"Something else that will be fixed," Lily's eyes flashed in outrage at hearing of this happening, again.

Yet Snape had never even been accused. This didn't mean much, plenty of them were never even suspected, and Snape was clever enough to keep himself out.

"That's got to be the nicest thing he's ever said about him," James shook his head in disgust.

"We never underestimated him," Remus reminded, "you were the one who near constantly reminded us to keep our checks up for him, he was the quickest to grow wise to when we were up to something. That falls under clever, to keep up with us."

"You boys fascinate me, with the amount of arrogance you hold. How the castle held your fat heads I'll never know," Lily pleasantly informed them while James smirked and Sirius' shoulders shook in silent laughter.

Ron pointed out how Snape and Karkaroff knew each other, but were trying to keep that quiet.

Harry told Sirius what he'd seen yesterday, about how they were upset about something on Karkaroff's arm.

Sirius seemed bewildered about the arm comment,

"Darn," James sighed, "Sirius has actually been a wealth of information so far," most of it something none of them would ever want to hear again, they all mentally agreed, "yet you couldn't answer that one."

It wasn't physically possible for a dog to actually 'stick' its tongue out at anyone, but the pink muscle lolling out of the side of his mouth was point enough.

but said that if Karkaroff was running to Snape for answers, that couldn't be good. He lapsed into a frustrated silence for a moment before continuing that if Dumbledore trusted Snape, than they had to trust Dumbledore for now. Sirius just couldn't see Dumbledore hiring anyone who once worked for Voldemort.

That spiked some different feelings in everyone. Remus threw Sirius a grateful look, unbelievably happy that at least someone other than him was at least still trying to hold out hope Dumbledore wasn't completely this thing putting them through hell.

James and Lily weren't entirely sure they agreed with that assessment, they were absolutely convinced Snape had been a Death Eater at some point, and for Dumbledore not to know was not possible. Yet the headmaster must have some profound reasoning then for keeping Snape an employee. What those reasons were though, they still weren't getting an answer.

Sirius shifted his weight around, his dark gray eyes reflecting back the firelight and causing some dancing shadows to pattern back on the walls in a rather eerie fashion. Harry's mind flashed back to when he'd feared this sight, and knew this would have at one point caused him heart failure to see the Grim so casually watching this room. Now Harry instead forced his mind to get away from that question he was sure he had an answer to, and instead wondered what it must feel like for a tongue to be scraping so harshly over canines and if that hurt while his large body panted next to the heat.

Ron insisted there must be a reason Crouch and Moody were going through Snape's office.

"Got to give him credit," James shook his head fondly, "I give anyone points who fights back with Sirius."

"You're giving yourself too much credit," Lily snipped back, "he's hardly the mastermind you seem to think."

Sirius made a yip noise of protest, but Lily just glared back at him. The message was clear, she wasn't taking it back unless he changed back.

He stood up, spun in a circle, and plopped back down with his back to them instead like a pouting child.

"I was actually speaking of you dear," James told his wife while watching Padfoot with worry growing eyes. They'd moved past the Azkaban talk, and James was really starting to want his best friend back. "I've never met anyone so willing to verbally spar with him."

"Flatterer," she scolded with a quirk of her lips.

Sirius agreed Moody wasn't something to underestimate, but he'd always been fair. Hauled in anyone he could get away with and tried not to resort to violence. Crouch though, that was a different story. If he wasn't ill, what was he playing at? What's he been doing rather than attending the schools event?

"He just managed to ask every question we have been this whole time," Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation.

They all stayed silent for a time after that, the only noise Buckbeak snooping around for any bones he'd missed.

Sirius was the first to break the silence, turning to Ron and asking about Percy, wondering if Ron could send a message to him asking about any news from Crouch?

"I'd think he's already been asked that a dozen times over," Lily scoffed. "If he's in charge of the department, he would have told someone by now if he'd actually seen his boss."

"Maybe he might mention something to Ron though," Remus shrugged in Sirius' defense.

Ron agreed he'd try.

Sirius also suggested dropping a question about Bertha, see if there was any more recent news on her.

Harry told about Bagman telling him more recently there wasn't.

Sirius said he wasn't going to take Bagman at word, he'd been quoted saying how bad he thought of Bertha's memory. Sirius though had known her differently, she'd been in school at the same time as him, and she'd had an excellent use of her memory by dishing out the school's gossip.

Harry remembered back to Bertha being mentioned in the same light in here, and Harry had a feeling it wasn't Sirius' memories or Bertha that was different. It was most likely in fact, something very important about her memories that got her into so much trouble...

He could easily picture her being a liability to the Ministry, which is why it may have taken them so long to go looking for her.

He cut himself off with a weary shake of his head, asking what time it was?

Hermione told it was half past three, and Sirius told them to get back to school. Then he gave Harry a particularly hard look,

Harry tried to look innocent of whatever he was sure Sirius was fixing to tell him, which wasn't fooling anyone, not even the canine who managed another huffing laugh with his back still turned to the lot of them.

as he told them not to come back out here unless Sirius said to. Just keep sending notes, he still wanted to hear if anything else odd was happening. They were not to go wandering around out here though, it would be too easy for them to be attacked.

"I love paranoid Sirius," Lily said sincerely, starting to feel some worry herself, she wasn't used to not hearing Sirius speak for so long. "He actually gives good advice."

Sirius gave her a happy little wag of his tail for that.

Harry shot back the only danger he'd been in this year was from a dragon and a grindylow.

Sirius scowled at Harry, telling him not to get lax. He wasn't going to be breathing easily until this was over in June. Then he added on not to go calling him by name in public, and instead they should use Snuffles.

Three collective snorts of laughter appeared for that, Sirius was even so distracted he rolled over to watch them laugh at this.

"I think I get it," Lily said with a small smile. "Sirius told Harry to call him that because he and Remus are the only ones who would understand who that's referring to."

Remus was frowning in consternation, thinking over in his head what all Sirius and Harry had and could be writing to each other over, and grudgingly saying, "yeah, I guess, and if he's thinking of hiding it from a certain someone," he got out through only slightly gritted teeth, "I guess it would make sense not to go with Padfoot."

James wasn't nearly as amused at the reminder for the secrecy, and in all honesty he was entirely certain that rat could pick up on Sirius' handwriting if anything so it still wasn't much use in hiding it from him if he was trying to intercept their letters, but he wasn't going to knock his best friend's paranoia either.

He gave Harry back his bag and said he'd walk with them back to Hogsmeade, try to find another newspaper.

He turned back into the black dog and led the way back down to the stile. He waited patiently as they each gave him a pat on the head, before he vanished back into the shadows.

Harry felt something very heavy sinking down into the pit of him. Somehow, he just knew the next time he saw his godfather wasn't going to be a good thing...

The others weren't feeling much better, each wanting to rub it in that they'd been right all along, Sirius coming back around had been more terrible than anything, though ironically the worst on the man himself.

Padfoot was stretching leisurely and getting back to his feet, shaking himself off as he watched James fingering the last page of this chapter.

The three of them headed back to Hogwarts, Ron asking if Percy knew all that stuff about Crouch?

"I really wouldn't think so," Lily frowned to herself, "I can't help thinking that isn't common knowledge. Crouch would want to keep that as hushed up as possible, and if he didn't talk about his family much before, I wouldn't think he would afterwards."

Then answering himself that he probably wouldn't care, he'd just admire Crouch more for it.

"That's disgusting," Remus yelped in shock. "Ron can't really mean that," his mind had instantly flashed back to the panicky older brother, sobbing and dragging his kid brother out of an icy lake after thinking something had happened to him.

"Yeah, I think Ron's exaggerating on this one," James agreed sadly. "Even Percy's not that bad."

Harry felt a bone deep shiver that he in no way wanted to pretend to process. Surely he was just getting a chill from sitting still so long...Percy would never turn his back on his family like that...

Hermione was shocked at him, telling him Percy would never hand over his family to dementors.

Ron shrugged her off, saying he just might if they stood in the way of his career.

"Oh please stop," Lily whispered as Padfoot froze in place. It was clear he'd been fixing to change back to a person, but at one last mention of those dementors, he released a high pitched keening noise and roughly shook his head as if to scare off a gnat.

They walked back to the smells of dinner starting, and Ron told Harry how much he should appreciate poor Snuffles, living off of rats just to be around.

"That's the least awful thing I've heard about myself recently," Sirius grumbled as he stumbled slightly on his two feet, before going over to James and taking the book away.

HPHPHPHP

I promise Padfoot popping up like that won't become a regular occurrence, no matter how much I loved writing like that, but I can't say he won't ever come back either...

*That whole conversation happened between me and nahte123456.