A Sirius Change

Chapter 4: Comfort and Fire

Ian was released from the hospital later that week. By the time they were officially approved to take him home, and all the security precautions were in place at the town house, it was well after dinner. By this time, Ian was continually repeating which toys he would take to bed and what roles everyone would play in his dreams. While Sirius usually found this repetition mildly irritating, it wasn't so bad tonight.

By nine the well-wishers gifts and flowers were organized and put away, and the townhouse was checked one last time by Colin's team. The townhouse was still chaotic, as all renovation had ceased after Ian's fall. But it didn't matter, it was home. Sirius carried Ian up to bed, as Cordelia read to Charlie. While Charlie had had fun at Grandmamma Kate's, she definitely needed some mummy time this evening. After the sixth request by Ian for a toy or a stuffed bear, he finally acquiesced to allowing Daddy to leave the room, but only after turning on the nightlight, and promising to leave the door open. Sirius checked the Muggle baby monitor Cordelia had insisted upon, kissed him one more time, and snuck out the door, as Ian rolled over, his water cup and train clutched tightly in his fists.

Sirius tiptoed down the hall to the bedroom. Cordelia was just slipping under the covers. She smiled and sighed, closing her eyes. He imagined that stretching out in a real bed would be very close to heaven after spending the last week cramped up in a chair under the glare of the hospital lights. Just being able to put on pajamas was quite nice indeed.

"Ah," Sirius groaned as he stretched luxuriously in their bed. He wrapped his arms around Cordelia as she nestled her head on his shoulder and instantly went to sleep. Sirius wasn't long after, he couldn't even stay awake long enough to think of all the things that were going wrong. The soft rhythmic sounds from the baby monitor, which matched Cordelia's slow even breathing, was providing all the lullaby he needed. The quiet was a welcome change from the constant hum of the hospital. He was home, Ian was all right, and Cordelia was here next to him, that's all that he needed at the moment.

Sometime in the very early hours of the morning Sirius jerked awake feeling a light hand stroking his cheek. "What's wrong? Where's Ian?"

"Shhhh, he's fine. He's sleeping. I'm sorry to wake you," she whispered, stroking his chest.

"No, you're not, you selfish wench," Sirius teased in a sleep husky voice, relaxing back into his pillow.

"You're right, I'm not. I needed to know you were here, without that bloody glass between us."

"I'm here." He pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. She responded with a bit more fervor than he was able to muster in his still sleep-fogged state. Her tongue was tracing his bottom lip as her hands began to sneak under the thermal shirt he wore on nights this time of year. Oh, cold hands, he thought as he jumped a bit, now fully awake. She moved to take her hands back, but he rested a hand over hers to keep them where they were. They were toying with the hair on his chest and he smiled as the hand began to toy with the line of hair that traced from his chest to more private areas.

He rolled to his side and began unbuttoning her flannels. The flannels were so soft, but her breasts and skin were softer as he touched and caressed them. Moving his mouth to one of the soft round globes made his heart race and his pulse beat swiftly. This always felt so right. No matter what variation their lovemaking took, whether fast and intense, or more slow and leisurely, as this seemed to be taking shape, it always felt right. They fit together, like he was made for her, to have and to hold and all that rubbish. He knew she held his heart and soul and he even entertained the idea that perhaps he held hers, although that, in his mind was less likely.

To have and to hold. He liked what he was holding and what he was likely to have in a few minutes, but not quite yet. Right now he wanted to warm her and assure her that he was here and would always be here for her no matter what. He knew she had suffered a lot from not being able to touch Ian in the hospital. He wanted her to know that it didn't make a whit of difference that she wasn't magic and that no one would ever complete him the way she did. He did this by following what she seemed to need and want, and right now, much to his relief she wanted his body and his kisses and his caresses. Who was he to deny her this comfort?

The slow and steady progression from sleepy light kisses to the more intense impassioned climax was instinctual and natural and like a wavelength they were both tuned to the exclusion of the rest of the world that kept them tuned to each other and reacting simultaneously and in concert.

Later, she disentangled her legs and nestled against his side. He gently pushed back the damp hair from her face and kissed her again long and slow and deep. She held him tight and responded in kind.

"I love you," she murmured in his ear as she let her head fall to his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you more," he whispered.

That made her laugh, a laugh that he felt rumble through him as well as her, affirming the closeness of their bodies as well as their souls. He smiled, although she couldn't see it.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He looked down at her, surprised, "For what?"

"For waking up when I needed you."

Rolling toward her, he propped himself on his elbow. "At your service," he said quietly with a smile and a slight nod of his head as he gathered her to him once more.

When he was here like this, he could almost hear her thoughts. It wasn't so much hear them as feel them. Her mind just now felt rather blank, a dreamy contented state, much like his own. That wasn't such a stretch, really.

Within the last six months to a year, if they were joined physically, he could get a feeling, a flash of recognition that these were Cordelia's thoughts and feelings and not his own. Of course most of the thoughts and feelings during these times were rather primitive and elemental: love, desire, compulsion, satisfaction, contentment. Every once in awhile, though, he felt an unexpressed worry or random thought.

This was a very comforting idea. That he could share her like this. He did feel some obligation to tell her when this interbodily perception occurred, but he hadn't yet. So far he hadn't uncovered anything he couldn't have figured out by simply reading her face. Love and physical satisfaction were not that difficult to perceive. He would tell her, once he thought it was strong enough to be intrusive. For now, as long as he could only get these images when they touched, he saw no reason to disturb her.

Right after his acquittal he'd been told he would be the next Deputy Chancellor of the International Federation of Wizards. If that wasn't enough of a shock, he'd also been told that all the DC's were telepathic as that was the main means of communication with the Chancellor. He still had yet to meet the Chancellor face to face and he often wondered if the Chancellor really did occupy the office immediately above him or whether he worked at home in his bunny slippers. He occasionally heard noise from that direction, but no one else occupied that floor, and no one ever saw anyone coming or going from that floor. Things would be owled there and owls would bring things from there, but no sightings had occurred in eighty-nine years, according to legend.

During therapy a few years back he'd discovered he did indeed have some telepathic ability, although it was very weak. Telepathy was genetic, but very rare. From what Dr. Huebner had told him, a wizard generally wasn't aware of this ability until well into their twenties. In Sirius' case, telepathy was the last thing he needed in a cell in Azkaban. The Dementors caused enough personal anguish, he didn't need to feel the anguish or hear the thoughts of any other prisoner, telepathic or not. Hence his talent was buried beneath layers of repressed reactions and trauma. Once those layers were peeled away, and dealt with, he began to get sensations and fleeting images, but these images were limited.

Dr. Huebner and his predecessor as DC, John Smith, had worked with him in developing his abilities. He'd been told that communication with non-telepaths was very difficult. It generally needed to be a two-way path. He might get a vibration of a strong emotion from someone physically or emotionally close to him, hence the trouble at Azkaban, but he shouldn't expect to be able to read the thought patterns of a non-telepath and certainly not Muggles, which made moments like this very strange.

Cordelia stretched, and rolled over in his arms, they had a few more hours before they needed to be up for work. His first stop was Dr. Huebner's office. He'd been thinking about the dream he had when Ian awoke and felt he needed to talk to the doctor about what it might mean. So he was due in her office at 8:00 am sharp. But for now, Cordelia was wrapped around him with her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder, her arm resting on his chest, and her knee snuggled up next to his. It was warm and dark and quiet as Sirius drifted back into contented sleep.

***************************

The office was bright, but soothing. Decorated in rich deep greens, garnet red, and deep navy, it was furnished with a broad desk and four deep squashy chairs, two facing the desk and two flanking the fireplace which completed one wall. There was a huge mirror above the cherry wood mantle and the hearth was done in a golden granite.

Sirius knew every inch of this office, every flaw in the wallpaper, every crack in the hearth. He'd spent hours here over the past seven years, more in the years just after his acquittal than lately. Lately it was a check session every six months, but at first it was daily, gradually tapering off to weekly, than monthly after two years.

But this was not a check session. The nightmare he'd had just before Ian regained consciousness had scared the hell out of him. He could remember every detail and recognized only half the events. They were close in style and intensity to the dreams he'd had before blackouts in the past. No, this wasn't a check session. This was preventative maintenance.

Dr. Huebner entered the office apologizing profusely for keeping him waiting. She was an attractive witch about the same age as Sirius. She had short brown hair, a roundish face on a petite body that brimmed with energy. Her gaze was a piercing blue, which Sirius had learned he couldn't avoid, and to which he couldn't lie. She always seemed to know.

"I'm so glad to see you again," she said, beckoning him to join her in the chairs by the fire.

"What brings you here today, your check visit was only three months ago. What's wrong?"

He felt a bit like a child running to mum saying, "I had a bad dream." But then, he knew better than to believe they would go away on their own.

Seven years ago, just after marrying Cordelia, he tried that route. He had nearly burnt her stable down, fleeing from hallucinations of Death Eaters.

He'd felt foolish at that session as well, but by the end of it, he'd come away with a realization that it wasn't a matter strictly for self-control, and that yes, he had been through sufficient mental trauma during his twelve year stint in Azkaban to result in a bit of instability.

He'd also learned that if he'd been able to deal with James' and Lily's deaths properly rather than being fed to Dementors for twelve years, the effects probably would not have resulted in nightmares, blackouts, and hallucinations. And that he needed help to deal with it all properly, or he'd end up hurting himself or someone else. That was what he feared more than anything, and what he was afraid of was happening now.

"I had a horrific nightmare, Doctor." Though his voice was calm, his hands were gripping the arms of the chair.

Dr. Huebner tilted her head, "Oh? Tell me about it."

"It started off innocently enough. I was wandering the hospital halls. That was understandable as I'd lived in that damned hospital for nearly a week. The corridors then changed from the standard issue hospital walls to the dark, dripping, gloomy stone hallways I've grown accustomed to in most of my dreams, as you well know."

She nodded and smiled.

"Then I started seeing bodies along the way. I finally turned one over and it was Cordelia, appropriately bloody and apparently just about dead. Did I tell you she was poisoned last month? Apparently not. Well she was, by a very nice bottle of wine, no less. I suppose that portion of the dream is a manifestation of that event, with somewhat exaggerated consequences. It was one of those dreams where you try to yell or scream and nothing comes out. Anyway, after I left Cordelia, to die of course, I backed over some edge and fell on top of my son. Two down and one to go. Luckily Charlie didn't show up in this dream, although she has been a featured player in some since. Got up off Ian and started down one of those never ending hallways with Harry at the end. No secret what that was meant to symbolize."

Dr. Huebner laughed, "Yep, not complicated so far."

"Right, well, then comes the explosion. I can see two people standing in the flames. Now, does this mean that I'm going to blow up two people?"

"You haven't been involved in a fire or explosion, have you?"

"Not since the Peregrine episode, and of course the Pettigrew thing before that."

"Maybe this signals a turning point of some kind, since most of the other turning points in your life have arrived on the heels of an explosion."

Sirius laughed, ruefully, "I'd rather not have a turning point, right now. I rather like my life, just as it is."

"You know change is unavoidable, Sirius."

"Yes, I know," he said with a sigh, but went on with the dream. "But here's where the dream gets weird. I end up in a cell. No windows, no doors. It's my cell from Azkaban. I know, no imagination. Not that being in a cell is unusual, but there was this painting. It was a very vivid and very colourful painting, but at the centre was a dark cell, again, but with a very bright light at an opening at one end."

"That sounds hopeful."

"Yes, but isn't it also how death is described? You know, a long tunnel with a bright light. That bothers me more than a bit, Dr. Huebner."

"So the three events that have happened are Cordelia's poisoning, Ian's fall, and Harry's disappearance. Neglecting Harry's disappearance, since you couldn't possibly have anything to do with that, were you there for both of the other events?"

"Yes, I was. And in the back of my mind I have to acknowledge that maybe I had something to do with both of these events."

"So you feel responsible?" she said at the end.

"I could be."

"Have you had any blackouts?"

"Would I remember them if I did," he said cynically. "I don't believe I have. I haven't noticed any missing time, but it is a possibility.

"Had you been losing track of time, then yes, you could have pushed Ian."

"No," he said, feeling shocked. "No, I haven't had any blackouts in years."

"Was anyone with you that afternoon that could corroborate that?"

"No, but there were people all over the house. Someone would have seen me. I'm sure I was in my office at the time. I remember running to the stairs when I heard the fall."

"Sirius, I don't think you're having blackouts, and I don't think you're responsible for Cordelia's poisoning or Ian's accident. It was just that ... an accident. Right then, let's start with Harry's disappearance and we'll work through the dream to that bright light. If Harry never came back, what is the worst case?"

"Not knowing. Not knowing if I'd done enough. Not knowing if I'd just tried this or that, talked to this witch or that wizard. Not knowing if he's being tortured, or if he's just fine, but forgotten."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Anxious, troubled."

"Anything you can do about it?"

"As far as I know I'm doing all I can. I'm trying every idea that comes into my head, or anyone else's for that matter."

"Good. No one can ask more. See if you can let go."

This went on for the better part of an hour as they dissected the dream. She had him imagine the worst, decided on action if any, and moved on. They finally got to the last part of the dream, the fire and being trapped in a cell. Since these hadn't manifested themselves, Dr. Huebner suggested they were symbolic.

"Perhaps the fire is passion, since you saw people standing within that fire. Is anyone around you in a particularly passionate stage?"

"Harry and Hermione were," he said ruefully. "Passion's hard to come by for me and Cord lately. It's more like exhaustion, so I doubt it's us."

"Maybe it's an expression of desiring that passion once more. You might try to find that again."

Sirius nodded. "What of the cell. My dreams usually end like that, without the painting, though."

"You know what the cell is, Sirius," Dr. Huebner said calmly with a smile.

Sirius smiled and sat back in his chair. "Feeling trapped, eh? Yeah, I am a bit. Not that I don't love my life, but it has been extremely difficult since I became DC to get out on my own."

"Schedule some play - either with Cordelia or alone. It will help, even if it doesn't alleviate the dream."

"That's not a bad prescription."

"I told you when we started this, it could be fun," she said with a smile. "Come back next week and we'll talk some more."

"All right." Sirius got up to leave. "Thanks."

********************

Sirius was in the office that Sunday. He'd come in to meet with Draco when Colin wasn't around. He didn't think anyone in Colin's department had anything to do with the events, but he thought this was a way to determine this. "I've gotten some information that Ian's fall was not an accident. There were some traces of an eradication spell cast at the top of the stairs," he began, once Draco had secured a cup of coffee and cursed him several times for dragging him into work on a Sunday.

"This really sets me off. If someone wants me, they bloody well better come after me, not my family. How cowardly is that to go after a baby?"

Sirius half noticed Draco listening while he proceeded to go on a tirade about this issue. He'd finally said everything he needed to say and collected himself to think about what needed to be done. "I need you to tell me everything you know about spell eradication and how we find out what spell was used and which bastard cast these spells."

"A lot depends on the original spell as to which eradication spell one might use. Ninety-five percent of them are illegal, right?"

"Ninety-nine percent."

Draco waved his hand, dismissing the numeric detail. "It could be..."

His sentence was interrupted by a large tawny owl coming in the transom window above the office door. Sirius pulled the note from the owl's leg and fed the bird a treat from his desk drawer.

Sirius' jaw dropped. "Holy Merlin, he's back," he murmured as he handed the note to Draco.

The note read:

Harry's returned.

No memory of being gone.

Come at once.

Remus

"I've got to get over there. Could you notify Colin and Cordelia, and brush up on everything you know about memory charms, then meet me there."

"Sure," Draco agreed, stunned.

Sirius grabbed his wand, swirled his cloak around his shoulders, and Disapparated.

*************

Draco had been loitering in the hall.

"And you really don't remember a thing?" he heard Sirius ask Harry.

"No," Harry said. "I feel like I'm going crazy, Sirius. I don't know what to think."

Draco couldn't see Harry's face from where he stood, but heard the desperation in his voice.

"I can't imagine what you must be feeling," Sirius was saying. He hadn't seen Draco yet, and Draco suddenly felt like he was intruding.

Harry continued, "I'm feeling like this must be a nightmare. Has to be. Any minute I'll wake up and be grateful that it's not real and I'll turn over and hug her and go back to sleep and this time I'll dream about fluffy bunny rabbits or anything else, anything but this."

Draco could hear Sirius' attempts at reassurance and not for the first time did a pang of what he guessed might be envy at that relationship sweep quickly through his stomach. It wasn't much and it passed quickly

He'd had enough of being a voyeur. He made his way to the kitchen where Laura was issuing orders and George was gearing up to cook. He backed out of that quickly. He found Remus in the library. He was there with Argo and Colin and a whole crew of I.D. Agents. He lingered in there just enough to get the idea that the ID would be handling this investigation and there was little that the DC's office would be involved with.

Searching for a place to be unobtrusive, yet available had Sirius had anything for him to do, he took up a position slouching on the stairs in the shadows. He'd been there an interminable length of time and was about to go to Sirius and tell him he'd had enough of dancing attendance on his vaunted leader, when the door opened and Ginny Weasley entered.

"Damn," he murmured to himself. They still hadn't settled anything since the night two weeks ago when he'd ended up in her bed. They'd agreed they needed to talk, but the right timing had not presented itself. Two lunches, a coffee, and a brunch had been cancelled due to her schedule or his. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. But she was here now, as was he. It would be cowardly to avoid her or to refuse to bring the subject up. It would also be rude though to jump into this discussion immediately. He resigned himself to being here for awhile.

She didn't see him at first, being greeted by various Weasleys, but just as she was whisked out of the hall towards the kitchen, their eyes met for an instant. Her face was blank. No apparent anger, but no smile either. Then she was gone.

*************

The party for Harry's return was well underway. Anyone who was anyone in the wizarding world was there. This made Draco very nervous. It was not only the fact that most of these people still looked on him with disdain, but knowing what he knew about dark magic, he knew it was possible that Harry was very dangerous. From the bits of Harry's story that he was able to hear, he thought Harry had been subjected to some sort of time travel magic or at the very least some sort of memory modification charm. Any sort of sensory activated destructive charm could be lurking in him. It was also possible that Harry was being controlled by someone or something. This could result in the controller issuing some murderous command at the worst possible moment. Argo had acquiesced to Sirius and Remus that Harry be allowed this night before he was subjected to solitary confinement for evaluation. Draco thought it was a bit like closing the gate after the lunatics had fled the asylum. That's what you get with friends in high places. Yes, it made him very nervous.

He lurked on the edges of the crowd, not wanting to get too involved with any of these people. His reception into general wizarding society had been polite, but cool. People had heard he'd come through and helped out Harry Potter, but few knew the whole story. It was going to take more than six months for him to be trusted and acceptable to most people. He could live with that, loads of casual acquaintances were something Draco could bloody well live without, but it did tend to make large parties uncomfortable.

Heading toward the kitchen for another butterbeer, he noticed Ginny exiting the back door, apparently alone. He supposed he wouldn't get a better chance. He grabbed two butterbeers from the ice bucket, and headed towards the gazebo.

*****************

He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment until she noticed him.

"Oh!" she said surprised. "It's you."

He handed her the bottle, "How've you been. Sorry about brunch the other day. My mum demanded an audience. She's quite persistent."

"Mums can be that way." Ginny smiled. "It's good to have him back."

"I assume you mean Harry. Yes, people do seem pleased," Draco said dryly.

"You really should get to know him. He's remarkable," Ginny said with a remote look in her eyes.

"So I've heard. Maybe I will, if he sticks around this time."

Ginny shook her head. "Do you think he did this on purpose?"

"No, I was just being sarcastic. Honestly, I don't know what to make of it. I'm sure the appropriate powers will investigate thoroughly though, so we needn't be concerned. It's not my business unless Sirius makes it my business."

"Yes, business. I have enough business of my own to be concerned with. I do hope they figure it out, though."

"Business going well?" Draco ventured, taking up a safe topic for the time being.

"It's been a bit touch and go this fall with production and payroll issues, but we seem to be pulling out of it."

"I thought you had a wealthy backer?"

"That was just for the first year to get up and running. I've tried not to use that money much. I didn't want to be indebted. I've had to dip into it a few times, but lately it's been much less frequent. Mum and dad drilled into me how bad debt was."

"Just learning about debt myself."

They both laughed a bit nervously. He was sitting on the railing of the gazebo while she looked out over the edge. Draco tried to maintain a safe distance between them.

Finally Ginny turned to him. He could see her take a deep breath before speaking. "Look, I don't know what you're looking for. Personally I suck at relationships, and can't be trusted to keep my end of the bargain, so if you're looking for..."

"Not looking for anything," Draco interrupted. "Not at all. I really didn't know if you... well, I'm trying really hard not to be a cad anymore, but I have these instincts that keep pushing me in the old comfortable way of doing business."

"Business?"

"You know what I mean," he said impatiently.

"Yeah, I do. Good business, though," she said with a slight leer. "That kind of business could keep you out of debt."

"Virginia Weasley, I'm shocked," he said in a mocking voice.

"No, you're not," she said wryly.

Draco gave her a glare, but not a particularly menacing one. "Okay, I'm not. So what kind of business are we in, you seem to be fairly good at business."

Ginny laughed, "Me? I'm not bad at the business plan; it's just sticking with it I seem to fail in my follow through."

"So what's your business plan?"

"I don't know. Nothing formal. No contracts. No fixed delivery dates. I don't really think we should be such close business partners either, do you? We run the risk of one of us expecting a merger, which I'm not interested in."

"Nor am I. Should we consider an occasional lunch meeting, perhaps?"

"Ah, but that leads to afternoon meetings, then overnight business trips. I don't think those can be written off."

"We did get a bit carried away." He smiled.

"A bit?" she asked incredulously.

"I think I've got the control for an occasional meeting."

"I'm not sure I do." Ginny rolled her eyes, but blushed a bit.

Draco laughed. "All right, no close partnerships?"

"No, no partnerships. How about ... ummm ... social associates," she said after a pause to choose the right term.

"Okay, I could use a social associate, should I have cards made up?"

"No, I'll put you under 'S' in my book."

Draco smiled, "I need another butterbeer."

"Don't they have anything stronger?" she asked, draining her bottle.

"I'm sure they do. Are social associates allowed to buy each other a drink?" he asked, as he gestured towards the stairs.

"As long as it's reimbursed, or exchanged for something of similar value. And partnerships are worth a lot more than a couple of drinks, in case you were wondering."

"Me?" he asked innocently. "Come on, let's try to find a decent whisky," he said as they left the gazebo and wandered towards the house.

"I saw Sirius come in with some," Ginny suggested as they approached the kitchen door.

"He looks younger, now that Harry's back."

"Yes, he does, plus Ian is well again."

"Plus Cordelia has been home a lot lately; I'm sure their meetings have been frequent and extended from the looks of him."

"Well, they do have co-ownership of the business," she suggested.

Draco laughed at that analogy.

"Do you see yourself in a co-owned business?" Ginny asked.

"Me? No. I'm not the co-ownership type."

"Neither am I. I won't even let Grant own more than 30% of Circe even though he really ought to. He deserves it, but it's too close. I had enough of sharing growing up."

Draco laughed. "You from a big family and me bred not to share. Seems you can't win," he observed as he held the door for her.

"Nope, maybe we're both extremes."

"I've never been accused of moderation. Ahh... here's a bottle of the good stuff. This should never be consumed in moderation." Draco rooted about through the cupboards for the proper glass.

"Nope, it shouldn't."

Draco poured out as Remus and Sirius ambled up. "Two more of those, please barkeep," Sirius ordered.

"Yes, your grace," Draco responded with an intentional sarcastic edge to his voice, as he poured two more glasses.

Sirius rolled his eyes, as Remus laughed.

"Is he all right then?" Draco asked.

"Not a scratch," Sirius answered.

"Not a memory, either," Remus answered.

"Anything I can do?" Draco offered.

"I was wondering the same," Ginny added.

"I'll probably have something for you tomorrow, Draco. Stop by my office when you get in." Sirius turned to Ginny. "Just be there for Hermione, as much as you can."

"Of course, and speaking of which - I need to talk with her about interviews." Ginny set down her glass and exited the kitchen.

"Dedicated, isn't she?" Remus offered.

Draco shrugged as his eyes followed her out.

*****************

"And what are the implications of Harry's return to the International Federation of Wizards?" Ginny asked Sirius, with mock solemnity.

Sirius chuckled, "I suppose you have to ask those stock questions?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm not great at interviews, but if this thing is going to be a Q and A, they are going to expect the complete suite of stock questions. That doesn't mean that's all I'm going to ask, though." Ginny's tone was challenging, but Sirius was comfortable with her.

Sirius knew that Harry's return was a big event in the wizarding world. That meant all the publications had to cover it. If they didn't they would have nothing for their archives to be pulled out on anniversary and commemorations. Sirius had been interviewed by most of the major world publications within the last two weeks since Harry's return. Harry and Hermione were not giving many interviews, so the publications bugged him instead. He didn't particularly mind taking some of the load off Harry. He'd been home only a week and knew Harry needed the private time.

Since Circe was a monthly publication, Ginny's interviews could take a longer view of the event, present background, and perspective. Sirius knew that Ginny normally didn't do interviews personally; she had some of the best journalists in the business on her payroll. Sirius had had it with good journalists, though. He wanted someone he could trust. He'd agreed to this interview, only if Ginny did it personally and if it was published question and answer style. He promised no questions would be off-limits and he'd answer with honesty. She agreed.

He'd come to Circe, as security at the IFW building had been tightened and Ginny had wanted pictures as well as an article. It was easier for him to come to Circe than for her to circumnavigate the complexities of the IFW building with a camera crew. Colin had run a security check that morning on the portions of the Circe offices Sirius would be near, and, as usual, his itinerary was kept confidential to all but Colin, and Cordelia.

Sirius had been at Circe office since just after lunch. The photos were done during the first half of the afternoon, then everyone was ordered out and Ginny got out her question list. Some were stock questions, like the one she'd asked moments ago, others were quite personal. Some were asked to the Deputy Chancellor of the International Federation of Wizards, some were directed to Harry's godfather. It was an interesting afternoon.

"I have one more page of questions here, but my throat is parched," Ginny said as she shuffled the stack of parchment on the conference table. "Can I get you anything?"

"Sure, a cider would be most welcome, if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." Ginny stretched as she got up from the table and exited the second floor conference room they had taken over for this endeavor. "I'll be right back."

Sirius stretched as well. It had been a long night. Charlie had an earache, and Cordelia was up. He had gotten up as well and worked a few medicinal charms, but it had still taken awhile to get back to sleep. It was only three in the afternoon, but the sky was already getting dark. Storm clouds hung on the horizon and the sun was obscured by a fog that had never quite lifted that day.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Sirius glanced at the door and noticed tendrils of smoke snaking beneath the door frame. He crossed and touched the door handle. It wasn't yet hot, so things weren't too dangerous. Conjuring a wet rag to hold over his nose and mouth he opened the door and ventured into the hall. The silence was eerie. No one else was left in this portion of the building. He hadn't heard a fire alarm, nor the ruckus people make while leaving a building in fear.

He knew there were apparition wards in place left over from security for the interview; he'd have to find the stairs. He drew his wand and muttered, "Point me." His wand swung north towards where he thought there was a staircase.

"Colin!" he bellowed into the increasing smoke, as he descended the stairs. No response.

As he emerged from the stairwell at the front of the building, the sound nearly knocked him over. There were sirens and alarms, people using Sonorous charms to be heard through the chaos. He looked south and half the building was engulfed in flames.

Colin grabbed his arm, "There you are, sir. We lost you for a bit." He led Sirius to an area separate from the crowd, away from the building.

"Where's Ginny? Is she all right? Did she get out?"

Colin motioned to a pile of crumpled blankets with another figure crouched beside, as he left, calling out to one of his agents.

"How did you get here?"

Draco Malfoy raised his head and stood. "Nice to see you too."

"Is she okay?"

"She hit her head pretty bad. The explosion apparently knocked her off her feet," Draco answered

"Explosion?"

"Sirius, the warehouse blew up. You could hear it a mile away. You were in there and you didn't hear it?"

Sirius looked around and saw the windows from the neighboring buildings knocked out. "Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on here?" He'd raised his voice, not only to be heard. He was confused and not a little freaked out by his lack of awareness, despite having practically been an eyewitness.

Colin returned and Sirius caught a glance exchanged between Draco and Colin. That was troubling in itself as the two of them did not generally get on.

Sirius glared at the both of them, and Colin began to unravel the bizarre events of the afternoon.

"There were two agents stationed outside the conference room. I was checking on them and keeping tabs on the other agents patrolling the building. There was a witch who was acting a bit off, so I followed her when she left the second floor. When Ms. Weasley went to get refreshments, one of the agents had instructions to stay with her. Agent Sanforth did just that. Agent Thomas was left stationed by the conference door. He has not been recovered."

"As Agent Sanforth entered the stairwell after Ms. Weasley, there was the first explosion. In the smoke he lost her. The stairwell Ms. Weasley was in was the one on the south side between the offices and the warehouse. It absorbed a good portion of the force of the explosion. Mr. Malfoy had just entered the stairwell, or so he reports, when the second explosion hit. She was knocked unconscious and Mr. Malfoy brought her out here. About two minutes after that, you wandered up with no clue what had happened."

"I knew there was fire," he said softly. "What were you doing here anyway, Malfoy?"

"That's not really any of your business, sir," he said curtly.

"It is as if it was you who blew the place up, damn straight it is," Sirius answered hotly back.

Draco rolled his eyes, "What in the hell makes you think I did this?" The two men glared at each other for a moment. Then Sirius took a deep breath, logic returning.

Sirius sank down to the grass, looking defeated, "Hell if I know, Draco, hell if I know."

At this point Colin stepped forward. "Everyone is suspect, Mr. Malfoy," he said, but without malice. "That goes for you too, Sirius."

Sirius looked up, startled. Then he just shook his head. "All right, I guess that's expected. I know, I know, standard SOP. How come I'm never the exception? You'd think being DC would entitle me to some privileges," he commented ruefully.

Colin smiled at him, "We're on it boss, and neither you nor Mr. Malfoy are prime suspects."

"Thank goodness for intelligent investigators." Sirius shrugged. "So how's Ginny?"

"Steady pulse, she's breathing fine."

"We really should get her out of here," Colin said, looking about. "Whoever did this is still out here, and if it's her they're after, she's too exposed."

"She shouldn't go home," Sirius interjected.

"No, definitely not. I don't recommend the Burrow either, although there are a substantial array of wards up there. It's too obvious a place." Colin turned back to them.

"She could come to the townhouse. We have an extra bedroom, although it's a wreck with the remodeling and all."

"That's not a great way to sort out which of you is the target, though," Colin said with a wry smile.

"I suppose not. I guess I hadn't had time to realize I might have been the target, but then with everything that's happened why wouldn't I be. Thank you so much for reminding me of that, Colin."

"That's my job, sir."

Sirius looked around and stroked short beard. "Could she go to your flat, Draco?"

"Mine? Why?"

"I know she'll be safe with you. You can handle the threats and I'm willing to bet your flat is well protected."

"My flat is very secure. It probably has wards up even your crew don't know how to disable, Colin," he said with an eye to Sirius' head of security.

"I wouldn't doubt it for a minute, Mr. Malfoy. Should I send my agents to your flat for practice then?" Colin said with a grin.

Sirius interrupted, "Do you think she needs a mediwizard?"

"No, I think I can handle her injuries. They look superficial." Draco levitated Ginny, conjured a portkey and they vanished.

*****************

It was quiet. Where's the smoke? Ginny thought. She sat bolt upright. "I have to tell Sirius!" she exclaimed, glancing wildly around.

"He's fine. You're in my flat," came a soft low voice from a chair across the room. Draco was sunk deep in the chair, head resting on the back. He looked like he'd been sleeping.

"God, my head hurts!" Ginny moaned, running her hands through her hair, checking for lumps and cuts.

"I fixed it," Draco stated. "You had a nasty cut above your eye and a large lump where your head hit the stair."

Ginny shook her head. "Ugh. I smell like smoke." She surveyed her formerly white trousers, which had gone grey, and the violet blouse which wasn't nearly as vibrant as it had started out that morning.

"Where are my robes? I had on black robes when I left Sirius."

"They got singed. The mediwizards removed them to check you out. I have them, but they aren't really worth saving."

Ginny looked out the large window that flanked the living room, trying to process it all. "What happened and how the hell did I end up here! I thought we weren't doing afternoon meetings or overnight trips?"

Draco smiled. "No, we're not. This was Sirius' and Colin's idea. They thought you'd be safe here, which you are."

Ginny bit her lip and heaved a sigh, which set off a coughing spell. When she finished she sat back against the arm of the surprisingly comfortable black leather couch. "I remember going down the stairs, then a blast. I cast an alarm charm, but I had to get back to Sirius and let him know."

"I found you on the second floor landing, you were unconscious."

"What were you doing there?"

"I came to see if you wanted to come to the symphony with me. My mum had a pair of tickets. We were still social associates after all and I needed a social associate for the evening. The rest of my associates were busy."

"The rest of them?"

"All right, the one pretty ghost at Malfoy manor was tied up, literally. She's playing S & M games with the poltergeist father brought from Karlsruhe. The rest of my acquaintances shun me, remember?"

Ginny laughed. "Ow! Don't make me laugh, it hurts my head. I need a shower; I'm very nearly black with soot ... ick. I'm getting soot all over your couch. Aren't you glad you bought the black and not the ecru?"

Draco had gotten up and beckoned her to follow him. "The shower's in there. Here's some towels. I'll get you a robe."

Ginny looked around the flat. It was sparsely, but comfortably furnished. There were two leather chairs that matched the sofa, a large fireplace surrounded by a nearly black green granite. There was a deep green rug overlaying the mahogany floors. She could see the kitchen an opening across the way, and a small dining area adjacent to it. At the opposite end of the living room was a door to the bedroom where Draco stood.

Ginny got her feet under her and made it to the bathroom without fainting, which she thought was rather an accomplishment.

"Let me know if you need anything," Draco said, as he handed her two fluffy green towels and a black silk robe.

Ginny nodded as she shut the door, and twisted the lock. As attractive as Draco was, she didn't need that at the moment and she wasn't sure she could trust him to keep his hands to himself, and she didn't trust herself to stop him.

The bath was quite spacious with a large shower area surrounded by glass block. The wall and floors were covered in a black granite tile that had veins of green throughout. There were silver fixtures, of course, she thought, Slytherin colors and candles that ringed the room. They were all lit. In other circumstances it would have been a very romantic atmosphere.

Ginny stripped off her soot stained clothes and dropped them in a pile by the door. Even her underwear was grubby. The shower was intensely soothing. She could feel the grime peel off her body, washing the experience down the drain.

She spent a long time just standing under the spray, but finally twisted off the water flow and took up the towel. She emerged from the bath a short time later. The robe came to her knees and kept her modestly covered.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Ginny asked as she leaned on the counter that separated the dining area from the kitchen.

"No, what?" he asked as he passed her a plate of eggs and a cup of tea.

"You just played knight errant to my damsel in distress," Ginny grimaced, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Do I owe you a life debt or something of that nature?"

"No, I don't think so, and I won't tell anyone about the damsel bit. It will be our secret," he said as he brought his own plate to the table.

"Thanks. I'd lose a lot of hard earned respect from my brothers, not to mention my employees. I've worked a long time dispelling the myth of the overprotected Weasley daughter."

Draco laughed. They ate in relative quiet, with Ginny occasionally asking questions about the fire and who was there. Ginny cleared the table and managed the clean-up charms. She could see him watching her avidly, but surprisingly he hadn't touched her. She was relieved.

"Don't get used to this," she said as she was finishing up the egg pan. "I felt guilty."

"But of course, my damsel," he said with his hand over his heart.

This earned him a punch in the arm as Ginny exited the kitchen. She went over to the window near the couch. It was dark by this time and although the window faced the direction that Circe offices were, she was much too far away to see anything. She searched the darkness nonetheless. She heard Draco settle into the chair across from the couch.

"It's gone! I can't believe it's all gone!" she stated incredulously.

"It looked like the damage was confined to the warehouse," Draco offered.

"It took me six years to get that operation running as smoothly as it was, to learn how much of everything I had to have and get the right stock and paper and inks. Damn, I just took delivery of a thousand reams of velocipaper. It took me two years of negotiation with the Russian Federation to get that. Gone in what, fifteen minutes?"

"You've done it once. The knowledge of how to do it didn't go up in smoke."

"I don't know, Draco. We didn't have a lot of reserves. We were running pretty close to production costs, because of that damned paper and a slow summer. I'll have to see if I had enough to keep going."

"You were telling me about that investor you had at startup? Would they be available to help?"

"I have no idea. I haven't heard from them in six years. They communicated with me once and only once."

"You don't know who they are?" Draco looked amazed.

She turned from the window and leaned back against it. "Nope, and I'm not sure I want to. I still have all their money. When I started making a profit I put every knut they had provided into a Gringotts vault and swore I would never touch it again, of course, I have on occasion. I didn't want them to come waltzing in and try to take over because I was still using their money."

"You could draw from that to rebuild?"

"God, I'd hate to have to do that. It would leave me really vulnerable. Maybe they set the fire." She paced the room, running her hands through her hair.

"Give me the names of people interested in taking over Circe; I'll give them to Colin to investigate."

"Does he have a year? I get offers all the time."

"And none ever tempted you? You don´t want to give up the grind and live a life of leisure?"

"Leisure is fine in small doses, but it would drive me mad to be permanently unemployed. Too much money and too much time are a bad combination, enough to drive one to dark magic, eh?" She raised an eyebrow at Draco.

He laughed, "I wouldn't know, not having allowed myself the luxury of not working, before, and not having the means to do it now."

"Touché. No, really, I love this job and I love my mag. I get a real charge seeing the finished product every month. Never underestimate the rewards of a job well done. I'm not sure I could bear to lose it." She stood silently for a bit, biting her lip.

Finally, she broke down. All the stress and uncertainty and disaster and its potential implications crashed in on her and shattered her reserve. She sank to the sofa, curled her legs up, and buried her head in her knees. She was sobbing hysterically, quite out of control, when she felt herself being lifted onto a lap and held tightly. Strong arms came around her and directed her head to a broad shoulder. She was very grateful for the warmth. She felt protected and sheltered and for the first time in her life, she didn't mind one bit.

The fire had left her feeling very vulnerable. She'd seen evil before, and been adjacent to it. She'd never been a direct target before, though. She suddenly had a better understanding of what Harry and Hermione went through every day and was very glad she was not them. She felt safe now, though. She puzzled a bit on how Harry could make Hermione feel safe, if he was a constant target. But then she realized that it was Draco Malfoy holding her. How was she managing to feel safe in his arms? She wasn't even sure she could trust him. The thought flitted through her mind that maybe it was Draco who set off the explosion. She put that thought away with the other paranoid notions that had been wandering in and out of her brain since she regained consciousness, and for the moment just let herself feel warm. She'd worry about safe later.

He stroked her hair. It was so peaceful, completely undemanding. She was so tired; she didn't want to move a muscle. Eternity seemed to pass there. But all eternities have to end sometime. He was still stroking her hair as she turned her face up to his. She was simply going to thank him for being there and holding her, but his lips were right there. While she was still trying to think of something witty to say in thanks, her body took over and kissed him instead.

She kissed him gently, very gently, trying to be as undemanding as he had been. But then he kissed back. They went on kissing; she could feel his hesitancy to take the next step. They'd agreed after all...no partnerships. At the same time she remembered that night, and how right everything felt. Her brain was fair screaming ... MISTAKE ... in her ear, but she knew it was well... she knew it was what she needed. She reached for the hem of his shirt. She needed to feel that rightness at this moment, when everything else was wrong.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her back to his bedroom. "This is a mistake," he said as he was carrying her. "Should I stop?"

"No," she whispered as she covered his mouth with hers. She didn't want to think through this. She'd been thinking through implications all night and this didn't need to have implications, and didn't need thinking about. Not tonight. Not right now.

She leaned back on the pillow. "This will be my mistake," she murmured as he parted the robe and stretched himself at length next to her.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he said softly, drawing back as she removed his shirt.

"Do you want to stop?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"No, but damn it, Ginny, I was trying to have a conscious here."

Ginny laughed. "So I shouldn't be touching you like this?" she whispered as her hand glided down his back.

"No, and my touches should be nothing like this," he asked as he his hand across her breast and continuing down her stomach.

"I shouldn't be doing this either, eh?" she said mischievously as she ran a hand up the inside of his thigh, having assissted him in removing the rest of his clothes.

He smiled wryly as he kissed her again.

They spent the next hour defining the limits of their relationship and what exactly it was that they should not be doing.

"So I definitely shouldn't be doing this," he asked quietly as he rolled above her.

"No," she said with undisguised pleasure. "And I'll definitely avoid this," as she ran her hands across a firm well-shaped arse.

At this point they stopped talking as their tongues were busy elsewhere and they'd pretty well decided implicitly that this was definitely off limits.

**************************************

They'd been lying in a silence, sated for the moment, not yet ready to separate and deal with reality. Reality intruded, though, as there was a loud pounding at the door.

They separated. Ginny propped herself up on her elbows as Draco jumped out of bed issuing some rather colorful and graphic vindictives as he grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor, where they were discarded. He summoned his wand from the desk as he exited the room, shirtless.

"Who is it?" he bellowed.

"Is Ginny Weasley in there?"

"No! Who is this?" Draco responded.

"We were told she was here," came the voice.

"If you think for one moment I'm opening this door without knowing who's there, you've got the brains of a flobberworm. I repeat who's there?"

"Bill and Fred Weasley, now open up now."

After a few more questions, and not a few spells, to ascertain if it was indeed Ginny's brothers, Draco opened the door and stepped back.

"Come in," he said redundantly, as they were already half way across the room.

"We heard about the fire. Is she all right then? Is she still here?" Bill's eyes darted around the flat.

"Ummmm ..." Draco started hesitantly. Before he could explain, or make something up, Ginny emerged from the bedroom in his bathrobe.

They had their mouths hanging open and eyes as wide as saucers. Draco leaned back on the kitchen counter, folded his arms across his chest, and waited for Ginny to comment.

"Sirius thought this the best place, but then you'd know that. My clothes were ruined in the fire, did you bring me some?" she covered, not thoroughly believably however.

"Errr ... no, we went to your place after we saw what happened. There was a guard from the DC's office. So we contacted Sirius, he told us you were here, are you all right?" Fred asked, glancing from Ginny to Draco and back again.

"Oh quite fine. Mr. Malfoy has been a gracious host. He was there when the fire broke out." Ginny answered.

"Who? Malfoy or Sirius?" asked Bill, seeming a bit confused.

"Both, actually, I was interviewing Sirius at the time, you see..." Ginny was trying to smooth her hair back in to some semblance of respectability.

"So what we're seeing here is not... umm... err... what it seems?" probed Bill tactfully.

Draco and Ginny exchanged glances, but Ginny saw Draco nod slightly in her direction and raise one eyebrow, indicating this was her mess.

Stalling, "What does it seem?" Ginny asked innocently.

Fred piped up, "It looks like you two just got out of bed with one another."

Ginny could see her brothers looking from her to Draco and back to her again. Draco gave them a blank stare. Ginny changed the subject.

"I should call mom. Does your fireplace work, Draco? Does she know about the fire?"

"Yes, she was frantic, but Sirius talked to her."

"He didn't tell her I was here, did he?"

"No, he told her you were safe." Bill took a long hard look at Draco, turned back to Ginny, "Then he told us you were here."

Ginny sighed with relief.

"If things are not as they seem, why wouldn't you want to tell mum where you are?" Fred questioned, with another glance towards Draco.

"Oh, you know how she gets. I just don't want to see her hysterical, that's all. You know how she feels about Malfoys, all Malfoys."

Bill nodded and rolled his eyes. "All right. Can we take you home?"

"Umm... if they think it's safe." She glanced at Draco. He smiled ever so slightly at her.

"Do you have something I could slip on, and maybe a bag for the soggy mess that was once my clothes?"

Draco crossed the room and went back into the bedroom.

Ginny followed him and came up close to the dresser he was rummaging through.

Without looking at her, Draco whispered, "Great mistake."

Ginny smiled. "Right, social associates?" she asked in a whisper.

Draco didn't look at her, and took a moment before answering her, debating the proper response. "Right, no more partnerships," Draco said, closing the drawer rather forcefully.

He handed her a pair of trousers, a shirt, and a jumper. He yanked his own shirt over his head. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Draco turned away. He had felt something different tonight, but that was not to be probed or investigated. No partnerships, she'd said. He left the room and closed that door behind him.

He faced the Weasley brothers. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?"

"Got anything stronger? Been a hell of a night, hasn't it?" Bill asked.

"Yes, it has." Draco crossed to the kitchen. Bill followed as Fred settled onto the couch.

Once in the kitchen, Bill came up right next to Draco. They were both over six feet tall, but while Draco had a slender build, Bill was a bit more muscular, even over forty. As Draco rummaged in the cupboard for appropriate glassware, Bill said in a low and slightly threatening voice, "I hope you're not screwing with my sister."

Draco raised one eyebrow, set the glasses down and turned to Bill. Looking him straight in the eyes, he controlled his voice so as not to betray the offence he had taken at this statement. "No I am not screwing with her. There has been no dark magic, no enthralling, no potions, and no menace. I followed my boss' orders to bring her here. I took care of her, nothing more. If you're worried that there's something between your sister and me, don't. There's not," he said with finality, handing Bill a glass of whisky, neat.

Bill listened, took a gulp, took a moment, considering, while he inspected the amber liquor in his glass. "All right. For some reason I believe you." He sipped again.

"Thanks, I'm working on my credibility," Draco said wryly. Watching Bill, gauging his reaction a bit, and swirling his own glass a couple of times, Draco continued, "You know Ginny and I have seen each other occasionally, nothing serious. Is that acceptable to you?"

"To me?" Bill looked Draco over. "Why shouldn't it be? She's old enough to make her own decisions. I just don't want her to get hurt. We love her, that's all."

The phrase, "So do I," flitted absurdly through Draco's brain, as if it were a reflex. He quickly stomped flat on that rejoinder.

Ginny emerged from the bedroom swamped in Draco's clothes, but at least modestly covered.

The Weasleys wrapped Ginny in Fred's cloak and crossed to the door.

"Thanks again," Ginny said at the door.

"My pleasure," Draco said with a very slight wink.

******************

Kate shook her head as she thought through the various catastrophes to befall her daughter and son-in-law over the last month. First there was the poisoning, then Ian, now Sirius had nearly been killed in that wizard building fire. The fire was large enough to have made the Muggle news. She was worried that Sirius was involved somehow in all this, possibly unconsciously. She didn't think he'd hurt anyone he loved on purpose, but if everything Cordelia had told her was true about his life before she'd met him, it seemed like hell. How could anyone get through all that unscathed? She remembered her own husband's strange actions after the war. She knew he'd been through a lot of therapy, and she hoped it had been effective. It seemed to be.

She banished those thoughts as she unlocked the front door to her gallery and went to set the tea pot on and drop her bag in her desk.

She moved through the gallery tidying up. She had had a reception the previous night for her newest artist. Her gallery included space upstairs and in the back where artists came to work at her invitation. She would feature that work at the gallery. It was a very pleasant symbiotic relationship. She got to know the artist and the pieces they were working on. They got space and exposure to Kate's wealthy clients.

The paper plates and cups were dumped in the bin as Kate climbed the stairs to the workspace loft above. Her favorite artist, Maggie Nielson, was in. Maggie came in early, sometimes as early as three or four in the morning, and worked until noon or so, when she was due at her other job as a barkeep at a tavern near Charing Cross Station . Maggie was a thoroughly lovely and engaging woman in her mid thirties, with a great wry sense of humor and well thought out articulate opinions. She reminded Kate of herself a bit. She had long blonde hair, was very tall, and had expressive eyes and hands that could sculpt images out of thin air as easily as she sculpted clay.

"This is lovely!" Kate exclaimed, looking over Maggie's latest piece.

"Thanks, it's nearly done. I thought Mrs. Stapleton might be interested. She has that beach theme in her Lyme Regis house, right?"

"Yes, I believe you're right, I'll call her today."

"I still have to add the focal point, but I should be done next week sometime."

"Is that what goes in this space, here?" Kate asked, touching a round flat spot on the tall clay object. The sculpture was an abstract shape with curves and swoops, rising and falling around a central flat spot. This was obviously the focal point.

"A lovely fossil I came across. I was poking around an old junk store, near the tavern and there it was. I love how it turns in on itself in such a pretty spiral. You could get sucked into the swirl if you look long enough."

"Yes! Looks just like a spiral stair, doesn't it. Yes, Mrs. Stapleton would love this. She tends to be rather naturalistic, particularly at the beach house. Can I get you some tea?"

"No, I've had my fourth cup already."

"Right, then, let me know if you need anything."

Maggie nodded, but had been reabsorbed by her work, and was concentrating on getting one swoop just right.

Kate went back down the stairs, and popped the cozy on the tea pot, as the phone rang, a client came through the door, and her day began in earnest.

******************

The meeting was over. They'd dissected the fire and discussed its implications and consequences and how it fit into the pattern of misfortunate accidents that had affected Sirius over the past month. Draco and Colin had left with various assignments. He made a mental note to bring the I.D. in on this. Sirius had felt sick to his stomach ever since the fire. He hadn't had time to acknowledge it until now.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and leaned his elbows against the desk. Another scene from his nightmare had come to pass and nearly killed Ginny. Luckily Draco had come along when he did. His mind flicked briefly to them as he wondered if there was something going on there. He shook his head as he muttered to himself that it was none of his business.

So, if things kept going as they did in the nightmare...

Sirius reached for the phone.

"Dr. Huebner? This is Sirius."

"Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Remember that dream?"

"Yes, of course."

"Remember the fire in the dream?"

"Yes. I do."

"It wasn't symbolic. Two days ago, I was finishing up an interview at Circe. I was alone again. It happened. A fire broke out in the warehouse."

"I see. What was the last scene in that dream?"

"I was in a cell at Azkaban."

"I see."