Equal Nemesis

Equal Nemesis

Chapter 4

Narcissa's Retribution.

Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.

--Confucius

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Horatio Talden strengthened his grip around a young Death Eater's neck. Nearby, Voldemort watched, hearing the spluttering noise that erupted from the dying man on the floor. The boy of only twenty tried to pull away his fellow Death Eater's hands in vain, but Horatio maintained the suffocating hold. As time wore on, the boy's strength leaked away and he stared with frightened, unfocused eyes at Horatio Talden. Then the young Death Eater's eyes rolled back into his head, and his breathing constricted as if he was trying to suck air though a crumpled drinking straw.

It was a shame,

Voldemort thought. Durmstrang's education had been wasted on this pitiful traitor.

Voldemort had given Horatio the order to kill him because he had known that the boy's mind was weak. The young Death Eater was about to betray him and his followers.

Voldemort sat on the worn couch, reflecting upon this, staring in silence as Horatio killed the Death Eater with a method rarely employed by his supporters. Voldemort felt fortunate to have caught the boy's traitorous thoughts by Legilimency. He would've been displeased if the boy had actually kept that little appointment with the spy of that Mudblood-loving-fool, Dumbledore. His plans would have been ruined.

Dimly aware of what he was staring at, Voldemort blinked, and saw that Horatio's fingers were still coiled around the now dead Death Eater. Voldemort looked at the wretched dead man with loathing, grimacing at the sight of the man's bluish tongue lolling out a little, eyes haemorrhaging from the pressure.

Since Wormtail's action of fulfilling his debt to Potter; saving the boy and his Mudblood companion from death in Ireland, Voldemort had become more stringent in finding out the weaker links in his circle. He was sure, however, that Rodolphus Lestrange, Horatio and Rabastan were his most prized Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy, slippery as he was, was just as valuable to him.

However, Voldemort was worried about Rodolphus. One of his own favoured followers, and Rodolphus' wife, Bellatrix had been hit with a deadly curse months before. A curse which had been meant for Harry Potter. If Bellatrix was a distraction then, she seemed to have provoked even more of a distraction since her passing. Voldemort reminded himself that he should speak to Rodolphus before the day was over, to make certain that wizard would continue his loyal service as he did before. Otherwise Voldemort would have no choice but to end the man if he did not halt his spiral down into the slums of misery. He had taught his Death Eaters that certain emotions had no place within his circle, whether it be love, pity or mercy.

Voldemort moved his gaze away from the dead body and towards Dolohov. The wizard was ashen as he stared at the limp form of the Death Eater he had personally trained.

"Useless! A complete waste of our time!" Voldemort stated coldly, rising. He circled the dead man. "Stupid boy! He couldn't decide to which side he truly belonged in the first place. Then again, these fresh minds are not totally desensitised from our ways. Allow them to not only watch the victim die, but allow them to participate- even if they make mistakes. I am willing to compromise their inexperienced Dark Arts in the hope of making these wizards worthy of my power!"

Horatio straightened himself with a sadistic smirk on his face. "Yes, my Lord."

"I was lucky to have caught him before he even tried to undermine my authority." Voldemort hissed. "Have the others make sure no one else attempts anything foolish -- thoughts as well as actions, for I will always know."

Voldemort quickly understood Dolohov's voiceless question when their eyes met for a flicker of a moment. Dolohov looked into his master's face, wondering why Horatio had not used the Unforgivable Killing Curse.

"You wanted him to die slowly, didn't you Horatio?" Voldemort asked. "Not my usual method ... but I suppose we all like to do things differently."

"I like a traitor, such as he, to die suffering," Horatio replied, flexing his fingers.

"We could've tortured the boy before killing him," Dolohov said sullenly.

Voldemort turned away. "No, no. We are changing location shortly ... I want to save our power for one in particular."

The door opened and Rookwood entered with a bow. "Master ... you have an outside visitor who wishes to speak with you," he said softly when he entered the room, ignoring the corpse that lay before them. Voldemort hissed at Rookwood's words, his red eyes gleaming.

"She is one of us, Master," Rookwood added hastily. "She asked one of us to see you when her husband denied that privilege."

Voldemort's anger built, feeling as though he knew who this person was but could not pinpoint who it was exactly. His new power was becoming more useful as each day passed. "Yes ... and wisely this husband thought as well. Who is it? Have you checked her for motives? And I wish to speak to the one who so haphazardly let her enter our location."

"It is Narcissa Malfoy, my Lord. She was using Polyjuice Potion, fearing the Order."

Voldemort cringed, his snake-like nostrils flaring in contempt, but his anger subsided by curiosity. "And Lucius does not know that she is here?" Rookwood shook his head.

"My, what an interesting scenario. Bring her," he ordered with a wave of his hand. Rookwood bowed and left his master's presence, leaving only Dolohov and Horatio at his side.

Moments later, Narcissa entered effortlessly, clad in black velvet from head to foot. She removed her hood to reveal dark-red hair. The potion's effects, however, were receding. Her hair changed to blonde, and her face began to change back to her own.

Voldemort stood, waiting for the woman to greet him. She approached without a hint of fear. "My lord, I'm grateful that you have allowed me to see you," Narcissa spoke, and she bowed before him. Voldemort looked down at the form at his feet, waiting for her to rise.

She straightened herself slowly with her eyes trailing the ground. Voldemort sneered, knowing Lucius had taught her well in how to behave in front of him, knowing that one piercing stare would enable him to see straight through her.

Narcissa's eyes were masked in red circles: a sign that she was heavily mourning her sister's death. She was not as pretty as Bellatrix was, Voldemort thought, staring at her face. But where facial attraction lacked, the rest of her body made up for. Her hidden beauty was revealed when she pulled away her cloak. Narcissa wore a black velvet dress, the sort the ancients worn. The dress carefully accented the curves of her body and a silver chain rested at her waist, finishing the look of fine grandeur the wealthy wizard families could afford.

Voldemort looked away from Lucius' wife. "Has your husband not told you to keep the affairs of this business separate from your life? Though you know quite a bit, he does not welcome you within the fold," Voldemort said, unmoved by Narcissa's forlorn appearance.

"Many times, my Lord," Narcissa replied softly. "But my time has come. I no longer wish to play the dependent housewife behind the powerful wizard. I wish for the right to fend for my loved ones."

Voldemort smiled at her words and sniffed deeply. "Love is not a reason; it is a weakness, Mrs. Malfoy," he emphasised. "Love is as useless as this dead man." Voldemort pointed to the dead Death Eater behind him. Narcissa blinked at the remains then stared into the Dark Lord's face. "And love ... will get you into the wrong situations," he hissed.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows, but was not deterred by the Dark Lord. "I've heard, my Lord," she said with a curt bow of the head.

She meant no disrespect, Voldemort sensed. Narcissa knew that the so-called useless emotion had kept Potter from being killed by his hand.

"Your reason to see me concerns personal matters?" Voldemort asked.

"I want to become a Death Eater."

Voldemort chuckled at her request, pacing a circle around her small form. "Lucius will not allow you."

"Lucius does not control my mind, body and soul, my Lord. I want to join your league. My husband's pitiful excuses to keep me from joining has only increased my determination," Narcissa finished, voice a little louder -- her true spirit seeping out so that Voldemort could feel the fiery presence her sister Bellatrix had been famed for.

Perhaps Narcissa was not as delicate as Voldemort thought. She was, after all, a Black. And that was something.

"No doubt this determination was pressed on by your sister's demise."

"Bella and I were close, of course. Her death was never meant for her, but for Potter!"

A chilling laugh penetrated the air as Voldemort lazily crumbled a peeling flake of paint from the wall, revealing the white coat underneath. Looking around the room he had called for refuge, he saw the old couch sitting damp and dirty against the wall near the dead body. Horatio sat down on it, his hands resting over the back of the couch, watching the scene unfold. The windows were boarded up, and half the ceiling had fallen, making the place look desolate and cruel.

Voldemort tapped his long fingers together, a sneer curled on his face. "Revenge, dear. You want to become my loyal servant based on vengeance?"

"But it is the sort of quality you crave for, it is not?"

"Yes ... that is true."

"Please, my Lord, I am not as meek as you think! I am skilled. I have not used my Dark Arts for many years, but I will not displease you. Please give me a chance," she persisted, not giving up.

"Yes, but you now stand before me against Lucius' wishes," Voldemort responded. "If you are disobeying your husband, Mrs. Malfoy, why should I allow you to join my circle, since you have a history of disobedience?"

Narcissa failed to speak, breathing heavily, making her face look more contorted. "I will remain loyal, my Lord, because I am a Black," she finally replied. Her eyes locked with Voldemort's own.

Voldemort blinked once he was satisfied with the information of Narcissa's private thoughts of loyalty and obedience. He paced the room thinking, his white spidery fingers tapping his chin.

"Lucius will not like this. He does not like the thought of his wife doing a wizard's work."

Narcissa scowled and bowed her head. "My Lord, he worked with my sister, did he not? He worked with a witch. I don't understand why he holds such reservations."

Voldemort hissed at the mention of Lucius working with women. "Because I forced him to act civilly towards the witches he works with. He is a man of ancient ideals, Mrs. Malfoy, but he will bow down to this, if it is what I wish," Voldemort said, his eyes darting to Narcissa's left arm. His long pale fingers inched towards her arm, longing for her be baptised into his ranks.

"Narcissa Malfoy, hold out your left arm. Welcome to my family," Voldemort hissed, his eyes displaying an unnatural passion, knowing that his desires were slowly being realised.

***

The street of Knockturn Alley was narrow and dark with foreboding. Evidence of human misery and exploitation littered the street. Witches and wizards unable to make a living were strewn on the paths with only the clothes on their backs. Those who lived by misdeeds and socialised with those in the underworld huddled together, scrutinising passers-by, and waiting for the next chance to pounce on a wizard who looked lost.

Rats foraged through the rubbish rotting in the alleys, looking for food. Sometimes, horrifically, they would make a meal of a limp human haphazardly dumped among the putrid mess. Then in some of the darkest places, people built large fires, hiding there to plan lucrative or terrible crimes.

People wore cloaks that covered every aspect of their face, in fear of being caught, but this also made the same people fear their ambiguity. Every wand was within reach if needed, as they searched the stores for Dark equipment, talking and kindling old friendships.

An old balding man with a huge hunch was travelling across the tight, smelly street, shouting loud obscenities and spitting at people who he thought looked like a possible Mudblood. He was the only one breaking the morbid, stinking silence of the alleys.

Death Eaters, hags, vampires, werewolves and ogres could be found in the darkest of places as well, if you knew where to look for them. Even the goblins had their own little pub in here, where they could scheme and plot out the next goblin riot against the Ministry.

Only someone known to the surroundings could pass with ease. Strangers rarely lived to see the safety of Diagon Alley if they didn't know how to protect themselves. But if they blink and squint, they may find an Auror hidden in the mass, watching silently ... and maybe a couple of Order of the Phoenix members too.

Morganna and Mundungus walked by a narrow lane where dirtied stores housed dark supplies. Uninterested in what the shops had to offer, Mundungus chewed on some tobacco, occasionally waving to an old accomplice he spotted.

"No Stevy, no business ter day, mate," Mundungus yelled when he waved to a greying, long-haired man across the street. The man wore a smile which had many missing teeth and he tried to usher Dung over.

Morganna screwed up her face at the loud comment. "Fletcher, you fool! Keep your voice down. You don't want to draw attention our way," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, Mistress. But sometimes a loud 'appy voice does wonders to a dreary, dead place like this," Mundungus said, stepping over a homeless witch.

Morganna scoffed at the man's response. "In fact, the wonder does the opposite. People will be attracted to us like flies to the smell of rot..." she trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously.

Mundungus grunted, spitting out tobacco onto the rough stone pavement. "Do yer think the Death Eater will show up, Professor Snape?"

Morganna halted in a shadowy corner and stretched her neck out to see if there was anyone recognisable. "If he's not dead." She turned to Mundungus, seeing the man watching old Stevy trying to con a poor witch into buying some illegal items.

"If it were me, I'd haggle Old Stevy into givin' me half the price he'd be offerin' her." He pouted slightly, rubbing his white stubbled chin in thought.

"Oh for goodness' sake! We are here for business. Not a shopping trip," Morganna spat. "Besides, if this minion doesn't show himself within ten minutes, then he won't be coming at all. He'll either have cowered out - or worse - and then we can leave. And you, Mundungus, can do what criminals do best."

"Or maybe, this whole meetin' could be a trap," he said, taking out his pipe to smoke.

"Oh, I don't think the letter that was given to Sirius was to trap me," she answered. "And Albus doesn't think so either."

"But why did this Death Eater ask ter see you especially?" Mundungus asked curiously.

Morganna failed to reply, curling her lip and making sure her fingers grasped her wand. "No doubt this Death Eater is related to an old friend of mine I knew from Durmstrang," she said slowly, thinking about the Death Eater and his reasoning for contacting her. "Wouldn't you feel more comfortable, Mundungus, to discuss something sensitive with your own kind or acquaintance, rather than a stranger?"

"Aye!" he agreed fully.

Morganna's eyes fell upon the old man spitting at people's feet, and yelling at anyone as he neared precariously closer to them. "WORTHLESS PIECES OF VERMIN--"

Mundungus blinked, watching the old man. "I have ter ask Sirius if he is somehow related to this man. He has a personality which reminds me of Sirius' darlin' mother."

Unfortunately for Morganna, as the man passed, he spat on her polished dragon hide shoes. "MUDBLOODS WILL ALL--"

His rant was broken off as Morganna grabbed the old wizard by the collar of his worn cloak and smashed him up the wall behind her, holding her wand to his lips.

"One more word, old man, and the rats will make a feast out of your decomposing waste of a corpse," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Mundungus dropped his pipe as he gaped in shock, and the old man Morganna restrained looked at her with wide eyes.

"My-my mistake young Death Eater, my mistake. You won't harm an old silly man like me wi-will you?" The man trembled. His tongue licked his bottom lip, waiting for a reply from the witch.

Morganna released the man in revulsion because his breath was too hideous at close quarters. "Depends, sir. Just one more word..." she threatened, holding her wand out at him. Her light blue eyes glared at his abhorrent form as he silently thought about her words.

"I'll keep me mouth shut then, young Death Eater."

Morganna smirked. "Good! Now go away and leave the people in peace."

The man bowed before spitting again to a corner, and he lumbered off with a heavy limp, leaving Morganna and Mundungus to themselves in their shadowed corner.

When the man was far off in the distance, Mundungus glared at her. "Death Eater?" he wheezed. He suddenly burst out laughing, picking up his pipe. "Jus' wait 'til Sirius hears this," he chortled.

Morganna scowled. "I'll hex him if he retorts to my face. That mongrel will never know what hit him," she leered, pocketing her wand.

She checked her watch and saw that five minutes had passed. Morganna had a distinct feeling that the young Death Eater would not be coming. He had asked to speak with her when he had given Sirius a small magical note when he was at Privet Drive. Sirius had pleaded to go with her, but Dumbledore forced him to stay away. Morganna thought that this young man would be better off speaking only to her. Mundungus would watch in the distance while they talked. On the other hand, Morganna knew that Sirius was around somewhere, getting school equipment for Potter and his little gang. She was annoyed at Sirius because of this. She thought he probably planned it to coincide with her meeting on purpose.

Mundungus continued staring Stevy's way, sulking at whatever item Stevy was trying to sell. Morganna rolled her eyes in frustration at her partner's lack of concentration.

"Mundungus, I will wait here five more minutes. You, my dear friend, can purchase whatever illicit device which will have Molly screaming for your imprisonment."

Mundungus laughed wholeheartedly, his eyes brightening up. "Molly won't know! If yer need me, just shout!"

He walked off, leaving Morganna on her own, in the dark. Not that she minded. She liked the peace and quiet as she watched, observing the unrelenting and unforgivable masses of people that Knockturn harboured.

With a pop, which scared the living daylights out of her, Morganna turned back and saw the one man she never wanted to see again. Horatio grinned back at her.

Morganna's eyes narrowed. "You..." she whispered at her ex-lover, yanking out her wand.

"Hullo, my sweet pea," Horatio whispered back while his robes stopped churning. "The shadows in this dark slum highlights your features quite remarkably - it makes my heart flutter."

"I didn't know you had a heart!" Morganna retorted. "You killed the Death Eater, didn't you?"

"With pleasure, my dear." Horatio smiled, making sure his leather gloves fitted nicely between his fingers. "We wouldn't want one of our agents spilling our secrets to your Order, would we now?"

His expression of malicious pleasure dulled slightly. "He was a complete waste of training, though. I think I'll write to Durmstrang and tell them to revise their screening methods on potential students, because sadly, they failed with this chap. And if they knew he was not of the right stuff, he would've been rejected."

"And you came here just to tell me that?" she questioned, batting her eyelids in exaggeration.

"Yes and no. I've been watching you behind Angora's Anthropological Apothecary and came over to brag about our justly cause also. My precious peach," he said, reaching a hand to brush her face. Morgannna jerked away in disgust, raising her wand higher. "You're making the biggest mistake of your life working for that Mudblood idiot, and sleeping around with that mutt."

"I am not slee-- why are we even having this conversation?" Morganna hissed. "Make yourself comfortable, Talden, while I'll alert the Order for assistance," Morganna said smoothly, her eyes wandering over to Mundungus who was smiling and laughing at his friend's choices of sale.

"No need, Morganna, I'll be on my way." His eyes trailed longingly over her body before he spun around. However he halted suddenly and turned around slowly.

"Oh you believe me, don't you? I mean, the messages Lucius and I have been sending you. We are telling the truth," Horatio said with a dazzling smile which made Morganna shiver with disgust.

She grimaced, knowing very well what Horatio was talking about. He and Lucius had sent two messages detailing information about her brother in the period before the attack at Hogsmeade and after Potter and Granger's capture in sixth year, but Morganna refused to give in to those lies.

"No. I will not believe your evil falsehoods about my brother, Horatio," she said and pointed her wand at his body; and for the first time in her life, she trembled.

"Oh, but you are sadly mistaken, Morganna. I am telling the truth."

"You're a Death Eater, Horatio," she retorted. "Your job is to betray and distort the truth for your benefit and then kill the unfortunate soul you torment."

A smile curled at the corners of his mouth. "True, my dear. But even my answer may be false, since my words are false to you. In that case, do not believe anything I say, including the fact that I never will give you up." Horatio tapped his chin. "In fact every word I say is a big tumbleweed of lies, drifting into the wind, waiting to snag its victim."

Morganna locked her eyes with his for a moment, but she knew the bastard was just as advanced in Occlumency as she was in Legilimency - a legacy her brother had taught her.

"Morganna, your little mind examination is not working." Horatio smirked at the sight, waving his finger in her face before changing the subject. "The Dark Lord is willing to take you in as his follower. The window of opportunity is still open, my love."

Morganna quipped loudly, feeling a light breeze evaporate the beading sweat on her face. "I suggest you close that window, dear, because frankly, you have no business with me other than a cell in Azkaban or death!"

Horatio continued to smile annoyingly. "Oh, and tell that son of a bitch, Black," Horatio rolled his brown eyes in sarcasm. "No pun intended, naturally. But do tell him that it was such a pleasant experience tormenting Little Potter in Ireland, and I look forward to continuing it at another time." He winked and Apparated, leaving Morganna boiling in wrath.

"Oh you slimy bastard, Horatio

. I'll kill you myself if Sirius doesn't get to you first. Just you wait!"

Morganna bent down angrily, resting her hands on her knees as she took several long breaths, forcing her thoughts and feelings out of her mind. Her emotions were indescribable, beyond comprehension - she more than hated Talden now!

When her anger subsided a little, Morganna stepped out of the shadows, looking more pale and shaken. She hurried past Mundungus and waved her fellow Order member off, spotting a small bar by the name of Hagard's Pub, with a little sign beneath it which read:

Witches, Wizards, Hags and Vamps most welcome.

Should Mudbloods' bane feet enter, there he will await a curse of terror!

Taking the warning seriously, Morganna subconsciously made sure that no one in her past three generations were Muggle-born. Without realising where she was heading, she knocked into a hooded stranger and started. She had been tested too much today - another scare would mean someone was bound to get hurt.

"Hello Morganna." Sirius' voice soothed her nerves.

"Watch where you're going next time, Black."

Sirius blinked. "Wasn't my fault, Snape!" he said slowly, reading the sign of the pub he had ordered a reservation in, and sighed. "Remember this pub?" Morganna shook her head. "It was the first time we met and we wanted to blast each other into smithereens when your brother showed up."

"Oh yes, I remember now. Such a sweet little moment to treasure. I thought you were handsome until my brother whispered who you were. Then I remembered the feeling of wanting to strangle you, 'til your skull exploded," she said, interlocking her arm within his. Sirius cringed. "I was young, inexperienced and eighteen," she added.

"Yes, and I was twenty one and a fantasy come true."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Sirius," Morganna curtly replied.

Sirius led her into the rowdy dark pub. "What happened back there?" he asked, looking up into her pale face in concern.

Morganna shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the gravity of the situation she had just been in. "The man never showed up. In fact, he was killed," she replied.

"That's not good." Sirius raised his eyebrows and sighed at the news. "So no useful information? Then how do you know he was killed?"

Morganna shook her head sombrely, her mind torn between her next words. "My ex ... paid me a visit to tell me the news." Morganna sighed. "So nice of him to tell me the man died by his hand," she sarcastically added.

"HE WHAT?" Sirius yelled, stopping. Morganna felt his fingers dig into her arm protectively. The people in the bar hushed their conversations at Sirius' loud voice, and Morganna instantly stamped on his foot.

"Ouch."

"Shut up, you imbecile!" she hissed.

Sirius looked around and gave several curt nods to the people gawking at them. The look on his face clearly radiated the notion: everything is just fine, and you should mind your own bloody business!

Quickening their pace, they walked to the very back of the bar away from the thick smoke and lingering smells and most importantly of all, where less people sat. Sirius leaned towards Morganna's ear "He spoke to you?" Morganna didn't nod and Sirius was absolutely shocked. "Again?"

"This time, however, it was unannounced."

"For crying out loud, Morganna. You could've called Dung. You could've died! Where the hell was he this time--?"

"Our skills match, Sirius. He would kill me the moment I opened my mouth to call for Mundungus--"

"This is the third time he's stuffed up because of illegal items; first, the Dementors. Then he was drunk and lay unconscious when Harry was rushed off to that Muggle hospital, and now--"

"Sirius, I asked him to leave."

"Oh." Sirius sat after pulling her to an empty table. "Still, he shouldn't have been tempted in the first place." He gazed into Morganna's eyes, but she looked away quickly.

"Sirius, please, let's drop this. I'm beginning to get a migraine," she said, rubbing her temple to soothe the pain.

"So I take it you're not in the mood, then?" Sirius leered, waggling his eyebrows.

Morganna rolled her eyes at Sirius. She wanted to forget about the meeting with Horatio, and forget about the mission now. She poised her chin up, her sight immediately stopping at a hag who had foolishly picked a fight with a female vampire. The patrons nearby had begun scattering in fear for their lives.

Sirius turned to his side just in time to see the hag scream when the vampire attempted to rip out her jugular. Morganna's eyes stared back at Sirius and watched him raise his goblet of Butterbeer to his lips, with an entertained smile on his face.

With a loud scream, Morganna's vision darted back to the fighting patrons. She cringed at the fight, as a bartender jumped over a table to break the ladies up, his wand tightly held in his hand.

"Pleasant surrounding you've picked, Sirius. My, my, I think Knockturn Alley is a perfect neighbourhood to raise a child," Morganna cooed. Sirius choked on his drink, spluttering the liquid all over his front, and he narrowed his eyes.

"You scare easily, my dear ... something which I thought you were not capable of, given your past record."

"And you are very wrong," Sirius whispered, wiping away the drink from his chin. "I never thought you could think of babies, Morganna."

"Oh hush Sirius. I am, after all, a Slytherin woman who one day longs for the pitter patter of little feet on the floor. That's if I find the right wizard, which I think I have."

Sirius' eyes twinkled and he then smiled, tapping his fingers on the table. "I'll disown them if they turn out to be Slytherins."

"I'll torment them if they're Gryffindors," Morganna retorted.

"You know, you still owe me a kiss."

"I never owed you anything since I won the duel, remember," she said, her finger trailing the rim of her goblet. "Patience. It will come," she said teasingly, causing Sirius to protest with a scoff.

"You play too hard," Sirius exclaimed, ordering another drink. "I've been waiting over eight months for a snog."

"Patience, patience! Don't lose your head over it." Morganna laughed. "I, for one, like a little peck in private. Wait 'til we're at the manor."

"I'll be looking forward to it then. I couldn't imagine being patient for another eight months."

Morganna paused, observing Sirius with a side-glance.

"I assume then that our relationship is not a passing facade but something which will continue to grow," Morganna said. Sirius glowed. She was happy that a man like Sirius was not trying to wriggle out of the situation by changing the subject of their future.

"Morganna, you're stuck with me. We are two of a kind. How can I think otherwise?" Sirius grinned. "Besides, I wasn't sure if you wanted the same."

"Of course I do!"

she emphasised. "Now, Potter ... he's another aspect of our relationship I have not thought entirely about. How is he coping with us, since he is still under your guardianship?"

"He respects our relationship, but if he likes you --" Sirius shrugged.

Morganna chuckled. "I don't expect him to like me after what I put him through all year, and what my brother did to him in all those classes. Secretly, I've enjoyed tormenting him anyway ... and Longbottom too."

"Oh you're too sly, Snape, too sly." Sirius laughed. "But do try and make an effort to like the kid. He is not the James you heard about."

Morganna blinked, her finger still trailing the rim of her goblet. "I've noticed, I know. But still, my temptation to act snidely towards Potter is familial instinct. However I may act towards him, whatever my first impressions may have been, his misfortunes overcome that initial instinct."