Sirius Black and the Drapery of Doom

Sirius got to his feet, opened the door, and poked his head out into the hallway. He hadn't lost track of time again, had he? Failing to feed guests on account of tending an injured hippogriff was a bit better than being dead drunk and passed out, but still bad form in his opinion. No -- he checked his watch -- he still had some time, though he was cutting it close now.

Rounding the top step onto the landing was a tall black wizard with a shiny bald pate and a gold hoop in one ear. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Auror in charge of his case, and an all round decent fellow.

"Anything I can do to help you?" Sirius asked sociably.

"Oh, there you are." For a moment Kingsley looked oddly relieved, then his face broke into a grin. "You alive?"

Sirius looked down at his perfectly solid body. "Apparently."

"Safe?"

"Unfortunately."

"Excellent," said Kingsley.

"Why?"

"Nothing, I was just down in the kitchen looking for you and caught an incoming message from Snape, asking if you were alive and safe."

"Slimy git," said Sirius, scowling. "Never gets tired of rubbing it in, does he?"

Kingsley chuckled. "You want to answer him or should I?"

"Be my guest," Sirius muttered, turning back to Buckbeak's room. "No, hang on -- you know anything about mending broken bones?"

"Some," Kingsley shrugged. "Part of standard Auror training in first aid. Why?"

"Come 'ere." Sirius motioned him over to the room and showed him Buckbeak's injuries.

"How'd that happen?" Kingsley asked, frowning as he bent down to inspect the hippogriff's damaged leg.

"No idea. Can you fix it though? I should really get started on dinner."

"Yeah, go on, I'm getting hungry. And answer Snape, will you? He might've had a legitimate reason for asking."

Sirius doubted this very much, but grunted an affirmative and made his way down the stairs trying to work out the nastiest possible reply in his head. Unfortunately Patronuses were inherently a positive force, which made them wholly unsuitable for saying the sorts of things he would have liked to say to Snivelly.

On reaching the ground floor, Sirius suddenly remembered Mother's portrait. His scowl deepened even further, and his hand twitched toward his wand....

Nah, blowing up the wall right now would lead to all sorts of awkward questions from Kingsley and the others. Sirius shot a death glare at the velvet curtains before continuing on to the kitchen. He'd get her later that night, after everyone had gone.

After he'd shot off a Patronus message to Snape through the fireplace (all it said was 'yes,' as he didn't have much time to be creative) Sirius hauled out the ingredients he'd set aside for tonight's dinner, summoned down a few pots and pans from the ceiling, and got to work. Tonight's menu was pheasant with roast potatoes and asparagus. Sirius prided himself on having become a pretty decent cook this past year -- a complete reversal of when he lived in his old flat, eating mainly take away and whatever James's mum occasionally foisted on him in an attempt to keep him healthy.

Kingsley came into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking rather tired. "Your hippogriff's all fixed."

"Thanks."

"Anything I can do to help?" He nodded at the food.

"Nope, I've got it covered. Have a seat."

Now that he was back in the kitchen, Sirius suddenly remembered something from the morning. "Had you been meaning to stop by earlier?"

"Oh -- yeah."

"What was that all about?"

Kingsley sighed. "Narcissa Malfoy. She's been to the Auror Office a couple of times, trying to look like she's cooperating with the Ministry in the hunt for her sister. Which we all know is a bunch of baloney, of course. Well, some of us know."

"Right," said Sirius, charming a knife to dice the potatoes he'd just washed.

"But I met with her. She's been trying to shift some of the attention back to you, going off that rubbish the Prophet's been printing about you being a rallying point for the escaped Death Eaters. Actually --" Kingsley grinned as though he had just remembered something, "some of the stuff she's brought in has been pretty priceless. We asked her for any old pictures of her sister...."

He dug in his pocket and pulled out something which he smoothed and held out for Sirius. "This one has got to be my favorite so far."

Sirius walked over and took it; it was a worn old black-and-white photograph of himself and Bellatrix sitting on a sofa. She must have been about nine, wearing a lacy frock, her dark hair set off by a headband with a large bow on top. She was clutching him around the middle while he -- vigorously sucking his thumb, his fingers hooked over his nose -- tried to wriggle out of her grasp.

"Tonks thought we ought to put an Engorgement Charm on it, hang it up in the office to remind people what we're dealing with here," a chuckling Kingsley informed him.

"Ha ha," said Sirius, thinking the better thing to do would be to burn it. He watched his two-year-old self repeatedly start to slide over the edge of the sofa towards sweet freedom before getting yanked back by a very smug-looking Bella. He couldn't quite bring himself to subject the toddler in the photo to that kind of treatment though.

"Was there a point to this?" he asked testily, handing the picture back to Kingsley.

"There was," Kingsley replied calmly. "I cast a stealth tracking charm on Mrs. Malfoy as our meeting got over yesterday, just for kicks. Guess where she Apparated to next?"

"No idea."

"About two blocks west of here."

"Wha--?" Sirius frowned. This was unsettling.

"She only stayed five minutes or so before going home, and she hasn't left her house since."

"Any idea what she was doing?" Sirius asked, walking back to check on the pheasant in the stove.

"I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that for me," Kingsley said with a sigh. "I take it she used to visit here as a kid?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, scratching his chin. "Though even then it was Unplottable, and they used to Floo in more often than not. Still, I'm sure she has a rough idea where the place is located."

"Can you think of any other business she might have had in the area?"

Sirius gave a short bark of laughter. "In this unfashionable Muggle dump?"

Kingsley sighed again. "I was afraid you'd say that."

They pondered this suspicious turn of events in silence for a little while until Tonks showed up, looking decidedly haggard.

"Pull up a chair," said Sirius, who was starting to feel quite reenergized by the cooking and company. "What's the matter? You look awful."

"And you look -- not awful enough. Remus left you one of those hangover remedies, didn't he?"

"Yep."

"I told him not to," said Tonks half-playfully, plopping down in a chair. "Told him you ought to suffer the consequences of your own actions. He said that was just the Black blood in me talking...."

"Good man," said Sirius, laughing.

"So I just spent the last five hours reading a hundred and fifty years' worth of newspaper articles on Albus Dumbledore," said Tonks with a groan. "Looking for any possible clues to where he might be hiding."

"He'll be around for dessert if you want to nab him then," said Sirius, grinning. Kingsley grinned too.

"I think she should," he said in a slow, deep voice. "I would love a chance to actually see one of his getaways. Last time I was out cold for the best part."