A Sirius Change

Chapter 6 - Letting the Days Go By

Sirius stood in the middle of their kitchen, mouth open, eyes wide, unable to scream, shout, or succumb to the hysteria rising in his chest. He just froze. After an eternity, his gaze shifted to Nick who had stood so suddenly the chair he had been sitting in fell over with a crash.

"Shhhh, don´t scream," Nick said in a strangled voice, holding a cautionary hand out to Sirius. Sirius could tell he was trying to maintain calm, and he appreciated that, but he also was reassured that Nick looked as panicked as he felt.

"I´d wake the kids, I know," he said with obvious distraction. Sirius turned and gripped the counter to keep himself from hurling the first thing in his grasp through the kitchen window. That would probably wake the kids as well. He was breathing heavily as he stood and backed up with his hands raised in front of him. He had to get some sort of release from this horror, but couldn´t find one in this small room.

He backed up until he hit the wall and slid down, curling himself into a ball, knees against his chest, arms sandwiched between. He grabbed his hair and pulled, hard enough to hurt, but he didn´t remove any, to his great surprise. He closed his eyes as tight as he could and clenched his jaw. He put all his energy into silently screaming. With his eyes closed, trembling with the effort necessary to stay slightly in control, he vaguely heard what was beginning to happen in the kitchen. He replayed the scene in his head, entering the kitchen, helping clean-up the mess, Cordelia disappearing in front of him. Over and over and over, until blackness swirled out of the corners of his mind and swallowed conscious thought.

He opened his eyes again and found he was on the couch with Colin, Nick, and Harry leaning over him.

"Christ, it´s happening again," he murmured softly to himself, covered his face with his hands and cried.

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

Water flowing underground. That was the first thing she heard. She didn´t have enough energy to open her eyes. She ached all over, like she´d been beaten. That´s when small glimpses of her memory returned, the creatures, the blow. She had been beaten, or at least attacked. Having recalled that, she could suddenly feel the red-hot pain in her upper left arm. She was trying to decide which felt worse, her arm or her head. It was a toss up, but at least that took her mind off the all over cruddy ache and stiffness she felt in the rest of her body. She felt like she´d been on her back for a month. She moved to turn over and found she couldn´t.

Reluctantly, Cordelia opened her eyes and found herself being looked at by a pair of very deep green eyes. She was a very beautiful woman who was holding her left wrist, taking a pulse. Cordelia examined her closely, because it was something easy to do, something that would take very little energy. The woman had long black hair, braided down her back and a very pale complexion. She was dressed in black cotton slacks and a tan silt t-shirt with a white lab coat thrown over it all.

"Good morning," said the woman. "How do you feel?"

"Awful and tired!" Cordelia struggled to prop herself up in the bed. "Where am I?"

"Lie still. I´m almost done checking you over."

The woman moved around her bed touching here and there, palpitating this and that on her body. Cordelia followed the woman with her eyes, noting the massive bandage on her left arm and the IV drip in her right arm. That arm was tied to a board which was braced to the bed, hence her inability to roll over.

"You seem to be doing much better. We were quite worried about you. You had a skull fracture, a concussion, a scalp laceration, and then the damage to your arm. I think you´ll heal that okay in a couple of days."

"Skull fracture?"

"Yes, but it´s knitting up nicely. That´s why your head hurts."

"How long have I been here? Doesn´t something like that take quite awhile to heal?"

"You´ve been here five days, and that´s pretty normal, here anyway."

"Here? Where is here?"

"You´re at the Lair Medical Care Unit, of course. Where did you think you were? When you get hurt here, you get to come to the medical unit and we treat you like a princess," the woman said with a smile.

Cordelia felt disoriented. She didn´t have the energy to sort all this out at the moment. Her head was throbbing and she just couldn´t remember exactly what had happened to her, and why she wasn´t somewhere familiar. "Can I get something for my headache?"

"Sure. I´ll be right back with it. We were waiting until you woke up and we could run a few more tests before getting you settled with proper pain medication. Is there someone we can call for you? Usually when one of us gets hurt here, our partner or sponsor will be here and notifying people, but no one seemed to know where you partner is or was."

"Sirius ... Sirius Black. You need to let him know where I am, and that I´m okay. Five days, he´ll be worried sick."

The woman´s eyes got very large.

"Sirius Black? The wizard Deputy Chancellor?"

"Oh good, you know him. I was hoping this was a wizarding hospital. It makes contacting him easier."

"What exactly is your relationship to the Deputy Chancellor?"

"I´m his wife, Cordelia Hunter Black. Why?"

The woman took in a sharp breath. "Jesus Christ on a piece of toast! Ummm ... Excuse me, Ms. Black. I´ve got to ... I´ll be right back ... or I´ll send someone in." The woman rushed out of the room.

Cordelia laid her head back on her pillow and hoped the pain medication would not be delayed by her obviously disturbing revelation. She was dressed in a hospital gown, but one that was thick and comfortable, and not all that ugly. The room didn´t look anything like a hospital room except for the bed that you could fiddle with the head and feet. It looked more like an expensive hotel room. There were no windows, however. Instead, there was a lush terraced garden that took up one wall. That was where the water sounds were coming from. Through this garden was a small waterfall that trickled and gurgled down the side of the wall weaving through the plants and exiting through a little fake cave at the base of the wall. Jutting out amongst the ferns and orchids was the rock wall the garden was built into. The rock was a black quartzite with veins of white quartz running throughout. It really was very lovely and the water sounds were soothing. She thought for a moment that perhaps she was in a cave, but the other walls and the ceiling were a pleasant mocha with normal wall like characteristics.

Cordelia closed her eyes and just listened to the trickling sounds of the waterfall and tried not to panic. Try as she did, flashes of memory began to explode behind her eyelids.

Standing in her kitchen.

Breaking a glass.

Cutting her hand.

Floating and landing.

Being attacked.

Creatures.

Then the panicky thoughts started screaming in her head. Where am I? How did I get here? Who are these people? Five days? Oh my god ... five days? Shit, what about Ian and Charlie?"

"Hey!" she shouted. "Hey, anyone out there? Help! I need to get out of here! I need to go home. Hey?"

Another woman entered. She was tall and blonde and looked very strong. She looked a lot like some of the women on Colin´s staff. Security. The woman smiled.

"Hi. I hear you´re Cordelia Black." Cordelia nodded as she went on. "So nice to meet you. My name is Lisette. Dr. MacGregor told me to watch over you when she left."

"I need to get home. Help me get this IV out."

"Nope, can´t do that. First off, you´re still not in any shape to walk out of here. You´ve had head injuries and you need to rest. Second, Dr. MacGregor went to talk to the `powers that be´ about you. Apparently you are someone to them and we had no idea."

"Why should it matter who I am? Am I being held prisoner?"

"No. Not really. Dr. MacGregor told me not to let you leave, but I think it was more a matter of your health, though."

Cordelia took a series of deep breaths. Finally the panic began to recede. Her head hurt too much to panic. If the `powers that be´ were interested and on their way, she´d take it up with them. She realized Lisette was simply following orders.

"So, where am I exactly?"

"The Lair Medical Unit, of course."

"Of course," Cordelia said sarcastically. Time to change questions, since that one was not getting answered satisfactorily. "How did I get here?"

"Don´t you know?"

"No idea."

Lisette looked at her suspiciously. "They told me you arrived at the back entrance and our guards responded. I was assigned to your door for the afternoon shift once they stabilized you. I do a lot of medical unit work. They say I have a friendly face."

Cordelia smiled at that. "Yes, you do." She paused, trying to decide what tactic to take next.

Lisette was still studying her. "Really, you don´t know how you got here? No one is supposed to be able to get here without a key or an escort. It´s what makes the Lair safe. No one comes here who hasn´t been cleared."

"Well, either someone cleared me, and kidnapped me, which seems less likely since it appears I wasn´t expected, or you all made a mistake. And what on God´s green earth were the things that attacked me?"

"You mean the guards? That would be Rafael and Piush. I think it was those two on duty. I´ll check for you if you really need to know."

"Yes, I do need to know. What exactly are they?"

"Wereleopards, of course. We all are," Lisette said with a pleasant smile and a very matter of fact tone.

Sirius Apparated to the foyer of their house. He noted that the drywall was finally painted and it was actually looking like the renovations would actually be completed someday. As he picked his way through to the kitchen, he could hear the thunder of little feet as two kids charged him from the play room.

"Daddy!" they yelled in unison.

He gave them both a big hug and braced himself to answer the inevitable question. Charlie spoke up first.

"When´s Mummy going to be home?"

Soon, darling. Real soon." He hugged them both again and they were off, racing back to the playroom and whatever they had been doing before he came in. Sirius breathed a big sigh of relief. He loved his children with all his heart and knew he had to be there for them with Cordelia gone, but darn if he didn´t feel like curling up in a ball tonight and being self-indulgently morose. Instead, he had to go on and be hopeful, no matter what. That took a good majority of his energy.

Nick hovered in the background. "No leads yet?"

"Not really," Sirius said in a rather defeated voice, leaning against the kitchen counter. "No ransom, no communication, no nothing."

"Don´t worry about the kids, I´ll be here." Nick turned to follow the kids, "Oh, Kate called and asked for you to call her back."

Sirius grimaced, "She probably wants an update."

"Yeah, she said it wasn´t urgent."

Sirius sighed. He was not anxious to tell his mother-in-law that there was still no word on her lost daughter. He should have been able to do something. He was, after all, Wizard-in-charge. He should have been able to protect her from this sort of magic. Damn. He picked up the phone and dialled.

"Hello, Kate? This is Sirius."

"Oh hello. Have you heard anything yet?" Her voice sounded worried and tired.

"No. I´m sorry," he said softly.

"I really don´t mean this to sound harsh and I know it will come out wrong. I don´t blame you specifically, but how in the hell can this happen?"

"I don´t know. We´re working on it. It seems like it must have been some sort of Portkey, but unless we can figure out what that key was, who might have given it to her, and what triggered it, we´ll have no idea where she is. Add to that that it could have been a time travel talisman and we´d have no idea when she is." His voice was sounding strained, even to him. He hoped she didn´t notice or take too much offence.

"I see." There was a long pause. "Oh, Ginny Weasley called me this morning. She said she gave Cordelia a fossil the night she disappeared and was wondering if I ever got it. It was from a sculpture Ginny bought from one of my artists and she wants it reworked. Do you have that fossil at all?"

The ammonite fossil flashed briefly in his mind. He saw it in her bloody hand, just before she vanished. "Was this fossil round and spiralled?"

"Yes, that´s the one."

A spark of an idea ignited in Sirius and with it, maybe even just a little hope. "Are you at your gallery?"

"No, I´m at home. Why?" Kate asked, sounding more than a bit confused.

"Did you provide that fossil to your artist, or was it hers?"

"It was hers. I provide basic materials, but anything unusual is up to the artist."

Trying not to sound too excited, Sirius ventured, "Can I talk to the artist tonight?"

"I have no idea what her plans might be, but if you think it might help."

"I think it might help."

"I´ll get her then. Are you going to question her?" Kate asked gently.

Sirius paused before answering, taken aback a bit by this question. "Why, does it make a difference?"

"I don´t think she knows about wizards. It may be better to talk to her like you were a potential client. No, that won´t work; she´d recognize you as my son-in-law. I have that wedding picture of you and Cordelia in my office. She´s commented on it. You´d be less likely to scare her and more likely to get information from her if someone else went in to talk about her work rather than you questioning her about the fossil."

Finally realizing what Kate was getting at, he countered, "I have a better idea. I´ll send Draco. He was with Ginny when she bought the piece. He´ll remember the sculpture and he´s good at extracting information."

"Yes, that nice blonde boy that was here with Ginny. I remember him. That would work since he was familiar with her work and not someone she´d recognize. I´ll call you when Maggie can make it."

"Make it as soon as possible. I´ll get Draco."

He whistled for his owl and dashed off a note. He hoped Draco would realize the priority of this. Draco was not very good at following orders or even acceding to requests. Too bad, this came first. He wanted Draco to meet Maggie tonight.

As it turned out, Draco did not have anything else planned for his evening and agreed to come down to the gallery. He understood the situation and realized the responsibility and trust Sirius had in him to get information from this artist, if she even had any.

Draco met Sirius and Colin outside the gallery. They would be waiting in a café across the street. He was to come directly to them after he finished his ... conversation, as they were calling it. He left them and entered the gallery.

He remembered meeting Kate Hunter before. She had looked more formal the night of the gallery opening next door. Tonight she was dressed in a long wool dress with a long matching sweater. Her long grey hair was tied back in a loose ponytail down her back and she hadn´t bothered with makeup. She looked older, but friendlier. He´d never seen his mother without the full treatment of makeup and dress robes. Kate looked comfortable. Comfortable was not a word that he would ever use to describe his own mother, Narcissa. Beautiful, diplomatic, precise, intelligent, witty, brittle, icy, and sometimes scornful, but not comfortable. Which reminded him he had agreed to lunch with her the next day. That made him flinch. Having lunch with his mum was generally excruciating as they had less and less in common.

Kate reached out and touched his arm, bringing him back to tonight. "Hello there, I remember you from a few weeks back. How is your lady friend?"

"She´s fine," he said distracted. He was still getting used to not denying that relationship. "The artist is here?"

"Yes, Maggie Nielson is her name. I´ll take you upstairs to her studio. I thought that might be a better place to meet than out here. It´s rather formal here and I thought perhaps surrounded by her work, she´d be more comfortable talking to you."

"I would imagine so."

Maggie was indeed upstairs, sitting at a large drafting table making sketches. The room was well lighted, but the desk had an added lamp stretched out to illuminate the work space. Maggie stood as they entered the room. She was tall with long blonde hair and an open face. She looked young, but there was something in her eyes that made it seem like the smile was forced.

Kate spoke first, making introductions. "This is Maggie, the artist that did the piece you were interested in." She then turned to Maggie, "This is Draco Malfoy, he is friends with the woman that bought the piece with the ammonite fossil in it."

Draco held out his hand, but he noticed a slight flinch when Kate spoke his name. It was almost as if she had recognized the name and was afraid of it, but that couldn´t be. She was a Muggle.

"I´ll leave you two to talk. Can I get anyone tea or something?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Hunter," Draco said politely.

Draco and Maggie waited until Kate´s footsteps receded on the stairs.

Draco broke the silence first. "My friend really liked your work. Unfortunately she was broken into and the sculpture was broken. Would it be possible for you to recreate it or something like it?"

Settling back on her stool, Maggie looked at Draco. "Each piece is unique, Mr. ... Malfoy, was it? The focal point for that one was one of a kind. Was it recovered? If you could supply that, I could come close, but it wouldn´t be exact."

"Well, therein lies the rub. We can´t locate the piece. Could you tell me where you got it, and maybe I can get another?"

"That particular one was a one of a kind. Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime find. But you could simply replace it with another ammonite," Maggie offered.

"I could. Could you tell me more about where you found it, so I could try to duplicate it precisely?" Draco asked, drawing up a stool and sitting down.

"Did the people who broke the piece take the ammonite?" Maggie seemed to be getting a bit nervous.

"No. We seem to have misplaced it."

She looked relieved and surprised. "Are you sure they didn´t take the ammonite?"

"Positive. I know Ginny had it after the break-in. She´s lost it now, though. Can you tell me more about it?"

Maggie shrugged. "It was round and spiralled and had a bit of opalization. It´s just that that particular one was rare."

"It didn´t look all that rare to me. My mum had one while I was growing up."

With that her, eyes got large, and she looked frightened.

"Why does that frighten you? Do you know my mother? She is enough to frighten anyone," Draco pressed.

Maggie averted her eyes and took up her eraser. "Ummm ... no, why would I know your mother?"

He could tell she was lying. "I don´t know. Why would you?"

She was erasing a good portion of the sketch in front of her. "Why don´t you get her ammonite and I could make it into something," she asked as she glanced up briefly.

"I don´t think she wants to part with it. She was always rather fond of it." Draco could feel the tension go up a few notches.

"It would really help your friend if I could get a hold of your mother´s ammonite."

"Just tell me where I can get another ammonite like yours and my mums and I think that would be a better approach. How do you know my mum?"

"I told you, I don´t," she said curtly, still erasing.

"I think you´re lying. I have means to cause you to tell the truth if you are what I think you are," Draco said calmly, leaning back on his stool.

Maggie looked up, startled. "What am I?" she challenged.

"You´re a witch that has obviously heard of the Malfoys. I saw you flinch when we were introduced," he suggested dryly.

She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and exchanged her eraser for a pencil. "What if I am? What does that have to do with this sculpture? Are you interested in replacing it for your sweetheart or not?"

"No, not really. I am interested in just what that ammonite is." He stood up and began picking up some of the objects on the drafting table.

"Look, just tell whoever you´re working for that it´s not my fault and I did what I was told. I never claimed I could be responsible for the piece after it left the gallery.

Draco´s eyes went up. "Okay, just what were you told to do?"

"You don´t know? Why the hell are you in here then?"

"To find out what that fossil was."

"Not to find it?" She was obviously surprised.

He looked directly at her. "No."

She looked relaxed and took a deep breath. She seemed to have decided something. "I was told to get rid of it. Put it out there in the Muggle world where they could find it, if they needed it. I never guaranteed I could keep track of it. They were stupid to try to hide it out there. When Kate told me who bought the piece, I recognized the name and I knew they´d be pissed. I thought you were sent by them to find it again. They will kill me if they find out it was a wizard who has it."

"Well, we don´t know for sure where it is, and there is a strong possibility that a Muggle has it. Why, what does this fossil do?"

"I don´t know. They just told me to get rid of it in plain sight in the Muggle world and tell them who ended up with it."

"Who are they? Who gave you the fossil to get rid of?"

"My boyfriend, at the time, Mason Randall. That was six months ago. I told them it would take some time to make the piece and get it sold to a Muggle patron. I couldn´t just waltz into the Muggle art community and start selling stuff."

"Where is your boyfriend now?"

"Azkaban."

This time it was Draco who was surprised. "Was it related to the fossil?"

"No. He found me in bed with another man and killed him. Well, his bodyguard anyway."

"Ahhhh, crimes of passion," Draco said, amused.

"Something like that," she said blandly.

"Does he know anything about what this ammonite is and why it needed to be hidden?"

"I don´t know, maybe. I never asked and he never told me. There was a lot of stuff like that with him. Stuff that if I knew about I´d get killed, so I didn´t ask."

Draco understood that. Satisfied with her explanation, for now, he got up to leave. "Are you going to be around?"

"I´m not going anywhere. I have three commissions to finish. It would look too suspicious if I just disappeared. I like working here and I really don´t want to lose this. If you leave me alone, I´ll be here. I have nothing to hide. I just don´t want to get blamed for losing this thing."

"If you lied to me, I will be back." Draco still remembered how to threaten without saying anything. He let his face fall back into the expression he had used a lot when he was actively with the Circle. He had been told it suggested everything from blood-letting, to calling of demons and he´d known how effective it was.

Maggie averted her eyes, but said belligerently, "I know what cold bastards you are. I can´t wait to see if you live up to your reputation."

"Look, I could have the Ministry arrest you immediately for trafficking in stolen talismans and passing them to Muggles, not a small crime," Draco threatened

Maggie rolled her eyes. "What side are you on now, Malfoy? Has your whole family converted or just you."

"Just me."

"That´s got to be lonely."

"Not really any of your business, is it?" he asked as he started down the stairs.

Draco eyed his mum´s upswept platinum hair, perfect makeup, classically tailored silver robes, and impeccably manicured hands, comparing her once again with the more comfortable woman he talked to last night. Kate had the same socio-economic status as Narcissa, and the same aristocratic carriage, but something about Kate made her more approachable, almost as if she wanted to be your friend, whereas Narcissa didn´t even want to touch you.

"Hello, Narcissa," Draco said blandly as he pulled the chair out from the table and sat down across from his mum.

"Hello, darling. Why do you insist on calling me by my given name? That really is rude. I thought I brought you up with better manners than that," said Narcissa as she looked disapprovingly at the silverware.

"I´m just having a hard time thinking of you in a motherly fashion."

"Oh, that old whine again," Narcissa sniffed. "Draco, get over it. You had a very good upbringing and, believe it or not, your father and I loved you. So, just stop. Most children don´t have nearly the advantages you did."

"Or nearly the abuse," he said under his breath, looking away.

Narcissa raised her perfectly pencilled eyebrows. "I don´t know anything about that, and I´m sure your father just did what was necessary. All parents have the right to discipline their children. Just wait until you have your own son. Then you´ll wonder why we were so lenient with you. And speaking of sons, when are you going to settle down and have some grandchildren for me. You are nearly twenty-eight."

Draco looked away, searching for a waiter to come interrupt this line of discussion. "I am not discussing that with you, Mother."

"And why not? Oh, I remember now, you´re involved with that Weasley girl. Well, I don´t blame you for not talking about anything permanent with her. Please, for God´s sake, don´t get her pregnant. Having her blood mixed with yours would just be intolerable."

"Mother. I am not discussing Ginny with you. I know very well where you stand on that issue. I am not discussing the rest of my personal life with you, because it is none of your business." He was starting to get irritated, and he could tell she was working herself into a snit. Snits were bad.

"But it is my business, Draco. Any offspring of yours will be mine as well. We just don´t want the wrong sort to be forced to be a part of this family."

"If you ask me, Mother dear, Father is the wrong sort for this family, which makes my blood as tainted as anyone else´s."

She looked truly offended at this. "Your father did the best he could for you and me during a very troubled time, at considerable sacrifice to himself. Look, where he is now because of you. I really do not know where we went wrong."

"Mother, he was killing people!" Draco said in a hoarse whisper, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Narcissa shrugged this off. "Well, just Muggles. They never did really count, except to some of the more pedestrian wizards. Of course with Potter and that awful girlfriend of his that everyone worships, I suppose killing Muggles would be thought of as wrong. What is this world coming to, anyway? In my day..."

"Yes, yes, in your day we judged each other by the purity of our blood and what house we were in at Hogwarts. Don´t you think that´s a bit short-sighted?"

"Not in the least. So, if I can´t change your mind, let´s talk about something else. We have such few moments together, I don´t want us fighting the entire time," she said with a false smile plastered on her face.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to be patient. Patience never was one of his virtues. "There would be more moments, Mother, if you didn´t attack my choices every time I see you."

"I´m just trying to guide you properly, Draco," she said earnestly.

"Fine. It was so nice to see you, Mother, we should do this again sometime. Like say ... two ... three years from now?" Draco got up out of his seat.

Narcissa grabbed his hand and tugged. "Sit back down and talk to me." He pulled away. "I promise not to talk about your choices. It´s just hard for me. I made all your choices for you for so long. Well, me and your father and now he´s not around and I feel like I have to try twice as hard to keep you going in the right direction."

"Mother," he took her hand. "I know what the right direction is, despite you and Father, and I would like you to quit trying to get me to see the world your way. I rejected that way and that´s why Father is in Azkaban. Don´t you get it? I made that choice. I sent him there. No one tricked me, no one forced me, I sent him there because he needed to be there."

This time she pulled away. "I´ve heard all that before and I don´t believe it. Now, what else is new with you besides the fact that you are dating that Weasley slut and working for that awful Deputy Chancellor? Don´t get me started on him!"

Draco rubbed his hand through his hair. "Please don´t, Mother. I already know your mind on my job. It´s a good job. It pays well, and I need the money. And Sirius is a very decent person. So just drop that. And don´t call Virginia a slut. If you can´t see her for who she is than think about how that comment reflects poorly on me, I´ve never had to pay for it."

The waiter came with their soup, which they ate in silence. The soup bowls were cleared away before Draco ventured back into conversation.

"Thank you for wearing that brooch today."

"Yes, I was surprised you asked about it. It used to be a favourite of yours when you were little. It matches some things better than others, but this robe sets it off particularly well, don´t you think?"

"Yes, I do. You do look lovely today, Mother," Draco smiled.

Narcissa gave him a smile this time. "Now, that´s better talk coming from a son of mine."

"May I see the brooch?" He held out his hand.

"Of course." She fumbled with the clasp and placed it on the table between them.

He picked it up and began to examine it. "Do you know if it has any special properties? Did Father give you any warnings about it?"

"No. He said it was rare and that it did have some magic, but none that I could access," sounding thoroughly bored.

"Did he ever tell you what that magic was?"

"No, but then, I never asked. I preferred the diamonds and sapphires. There was the one time I wanted to wear it, but he got very angry when I tried to put it on. He told me to never wear it with that one necklace of mine."

"Which necklace? You have thousands of them," Draco asked with a glance up at his Mum.

Narcissa laughed, "I didn´t have the necklace long. The setting made my skin crawl, but it was a stone that changed colour depending on his mood. I don´t think he liked me being able to tell what sort of mood he was in. It had been a gift from a friend of mine who didn´t particularly like your father, so she gave me that to give me a warning in case he was angry. Anyway, he gave it away within a couple of weeks. But there was that one time ... not that that means anything. It could have just been the wrong colour for the robes I had on. You know how much a stickler he was for appearance," she said with a conspiratorial glance.

"Yes. I´m quite aware of that. So he wouldn´t let you wear it with a necklace that changed colours?"

"I think so. Either that or he thought the jewellery would clash. That´s probably more accurate. I don´t know what I was thinking trying to wear a necklace and a brooch at the same time anyway. I was still learning at that stage."

"May I borrow the brooch for a bit? I´d like to try a few things out with it."

"Of course. Don´t lose it though, it is rather valuable. It doesn´t look like a valuable piece, but your father said it was one of only 20 in the world today. There used to be more, but most were destroyed after some sort of revolution or uprising or something like that. I can´t remember the details, or maybe he never told me the details, or maybe he did and I wasn´t paying attention. You know how he could ramble on and on about revolutions."

Draco laughed. "Yes, that he could." Draco slipped the brooch into his pocket while the waiter set the entrée in front of them. They managed to get through the rest of the meal and a cup of tea without Draco wanting to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. They discussed politics and the rest of the Malfoy family. They talked about the weather, then as the last of the tea was poured, she brought up the last intolerable subject.

"Draco," she said with a slight whine in her voice. "How can you stand to live in that tiny depressing flat? The manor has so much room, and it´s so empty with you and your father gone."

"Mother, my work is in the city, I don´t want to have to commute."

She waved a hand dismissively. "They have Floo access, it wouldn´t be but a moment."

Draco took one last sip of his tea, stood up, and took a deep breath.

"You know the real reason I stay in my small dismal flat? Which, by the way, I don´t happen to think is small or dismal. I did in fact decorate it myself and it´s all my taste, so if you think my taste is dismal then that´s your fault for raising me in the most dismal castle in England. But that´s beside the point. You want to know the real reason I stay and absolutely enjoy my flat in London?"

"Of course, darling, what is it?" She was looking earnestly into his eyes.

Draco leaned over the table, so their faces were only inches apart. "It´s so I can fuck Ginny Weasley in my own bed any time I want to without you looking disapprovingly over my shoulder." With that, he turned and left the restaurant. He knew that that would give her a visual she would not enjoy and only wished he could look back and see her face, but that would ruin the exit, and if Malfoys knew anything, they knew how to make a good exit.

It had been nine days since Sirius had slept more than a few hours at a time. Between being too anxious to sleep, and being afraid of his dreams, he was worn down. He was sitting in his office rifling through parchments from the morning owl post. There were the usual reports and invitations, requests for speaking, and petitions for arbitration. The envelope was non-descript and he almost redirected it back out to Samantha for routine processing. Something made him run his finger along it to tear it open. A simple letter fell out. As he read it, his breath got short and his knees got weak.

Dear Mr. Black,

Please accept our sincere apologies for failing to communicate with you earlier. Your wife, Cordelia is safe with us. We are unsure how she arrived in our care, but rest assured she is being treated as an honoured guest. She is not a prisoner, and we were not directly responsible for her being here.

We realize you will want to come here and bring her home as soon as possible. Please do not attempt to do this. We need to keep her here for at least three weeks for her own well being. Our security is such that we are impossible to find without our consent and you do not have our consent. When we feel it is safe for your wife to rejoin you, we will bring her to you. If you attempt to come to us, we can not guarantee her safety or yours.

The Pard.

He sat after the first time he read it. He was speechless. After the second time, he cursed and threw a few things from his desk. He read it two more times before bellowing, "Colin!"

He held the letter out to his chief of security.

Colin took the piece of paper (for it was paper and not wizarding parchment) and began to read. His eyes widened, and as he got to the end he uttered a short small oath under his breath.

"My sentiments exactly," Sirius commented softly.

"Why do they want to keep her, but make no demands?"

Sirius threw up his hands. "Hell if I know. I can only imagine they'll make some sort of demands when the timing is right. What do they mean when they say they are unsure how she arrived? They must have taken her, right?"

"We were assuming that someone took her. Maybe someone else took her and delivered her to them?" Colin offered.

Sirius waved his hand, "I guess it doesn't really matter how she got there. She's there and I have to go get her."

"I was afraid you would say that, sir, but I really don't think that's a very good idea."

"I don't care. I have to go get her. I can't just wait here and see what type of condition they bring her back in. You can come if you want. I won't order you to."

"You don't have to, it's my job," Colin stated strongly.

Sirius shook his head. "No, this is way outside your job description. You aren't required to save my wife."

"No, but it is my job to keep you alive. I'll go," Colin argued.

Sirius sighed. "All right. Now, all I have to do is find out where she went and how we get there."

"Is that all?" Colin said sarcastically.

The door slammed open as Draco walked in unannounced. "Hello."

Colin jumped in front of Sirius. "Where is Samantha?"

"Beats me," Draco said, looking around.

"How many times do I need to tell you to knock, Draco?" Sirius asked in an exasperated tone.

Draco shrugged. "You're not shagging Cordelia, so I thought that rule didn't apply?"

Sirius glared at him. "What do you want."

"You're going to Azkaban tomorrow? I'm coming with you," Draco stated.

"You don't trust me to interview Randall by myself?" Sirius asked.

"Actually, I do, surprisingly. No, I need to talk to my dear father. He might have some information that might help us."

"Oh?" Sirius was surprised.

"Yes, Narcissa didn't know anything about her ammonite, but I borrowed it from her and I'm going to ask him about it. She said Lucius gave it to her long ago and might know what it was for," Draco said, settling into one of the office chairs.

"Fine. We need as much help as we can get. Read this."

Draco read. "Holy shit. Why do they need to keep her and who are these guys?"

"We're hoping Mason can tell us that." Sirius was pacing by now.

Draco looked confused. "I thought he was going to tell you about the ammonite. What makes you think he can tell you anything about the Pard?"

"Who knows, they have to be connected somehow, don't you think?"

"I don´t know. The Pard has always been such a shadow of a rumour. Like I told you before, even the Circle didn't know who or what they were and if they were supporters of the dark side or not. Even the rumours weren't plentiful, because you need some interest for there to be rumours. There was so little to go with, people just tended to ignore the stories."

"Well, apparently they are real and they have Cordelia," Colin interjected.

Draco shrugged. "So, we're going to get her?"

"After Azkaban. We should know more then," Sirius stated, suddenly very tired.

"Do you want me to go?" Draco asked.

"Do you want to come?"

Draco shrugged. "I'll let you know after Azkaban."

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

They approached the large grey fortress on a comfortably appointed yacht. It was the official yacht of the Chancellor´s office, and was typically used to entertain government and business leaders. It was a 150 foot long sailing boat with multiple masts and sails charmed to power the yacht at a comfortable cruising speed, no matter what the weather.

The top deck had long promenades with cherry wood decking and rails. The interior was elegantly appointed, with numerous staterooms, dining rooms, conference rooms, lounges, and theatres. Sirius had a permanent state room that he used whenever he needed the yacht, with appropriate security charms and devises built accordingly. There was also an office for his exclusive use and a small dining and living area for longer voyages. They´d also adapted one of the lower staterooms into a playroom for Charlie and Ian´s use when they planned a longer, more family oriented outing. Visitors to the yacht were also encouraged to bring their children, when Charlie and Ian were along.

Sirius sat in his office, going over his notes about the questioning of Mason Randall. He was supposed to be going over his notes, but his mind kept slipping away to the interior of Azkaban. From the reports he´d received, the prison had been renovated since he was an inmate. Dementors no longer guarded the fortress. In fact, there was a small contingent of Dementors that had been unfortunate enough not to be killed after the last Voldemort War.

This was his first visit back to the prison since he broke out nearly fifteen years ago. Sirius shook his head and realized how quickly time had passed on the outside. Time hadn´t passed nearly as quickly during those twelve interminable years. He realized he´d been out of Azkaban for more time than he had been held within it, but it seemed like he had wasted more than half his life there.

So here he was on a luxuriously appointed yacht, so far from the reality of the conditions behind those cold greenish grey stone walls, on his way to his worst nightmare; what Dr. Huebner called his primary trigger. He had barely slept for the eleven days since Cordelia´s disappearance. Eleven fucking days. He had given Colin a very hard time about how long it took to make the arrangements for this visit. Every day that he wasn't making progress was frustrating torture. Every day he was making progress was a false high.

Since he found out about this lead and won the battle with Colin that he needed to go do the questioning himself, he´d slept even less, stealing bits and pieces of sleep when the drowsiness simply overcame his fears and worries. He wasn´t sure which was worse, the ache from missing Cordelia combined with the near panic of worry over her safety, or the dread of going inside those walls again. They pretty much balanced out.

He´d talked to Dr. Huebner nearly every day. Every night, he spent extra time with Charlie and Ian, reading to them, playing games with them, and just talking and listening to their babble. He let them climb on him. He carried them much more than he normally did and just stayed with them a bit longer at night and held them a bit closer.

Since Cordelia disappeared his real life felt a bit surreal, like it had all been a joke and they were going to put him back in his cell where he really belonged. How could he have thought that any of this, the wife, the kids, the house? How could that last? He felt like he was approaching a waterfall that would dash his world like a boat on huge boulders at the base of the waterfall. He was nearly sure all he would be left with were the sticks and broken shards of what used to be the yacht that exemplified his life.

There was no waterfall, in fact the docking was very smooth. He had donned his ceremonial Deputy Chancellor robes and gone up on deck. He very rarely bothered with the official robes, choosing instead standard business robes over a shirt and jeans if he could get away with it. Dressing up generally meant wool trousers, a button down shirt and a respectable tie. But today he was going all out. They were heavy black velvet robes with the official crest of the Deputy Chancellor embroidered on the chest. There were satin markings of his rank on both sleeves, and a velvet and satin stole that draped around his neck.

This was the first time he´d worn the stole since his official installation as Deputy Chancellor. It usually just got in the way. On the whole, the robes and accoutrements tended towards the gaudy and excessive, but today he wanted everyone to know who he was. He wanted to show the stone walls themselves how far he´d come and that he wasn´t afraid of them. He had promised Dr. Huebner that he would not seek out the Dementors; that he wouldn´t tempt fate, but at that moment he really wanted them, in particular, to see who he was.

He´d watched the yacht make its approach to the fortress, and as it began to loom above the masts he found that if he concentrated his anger at all the things that had been done to him and his family over the last two months, he was less apt to feel like Apparating away and never coming near the bloody place again.

They were met at the dock by three guards. Sirius had four of his own security people in addition to Colin, and Draco. The warden had insisted on an official visit and tour prior to the prisoner interrogation. He had let it be known that he had been quite offended that Sirius hadn´t come for a visit to date. Sirius hoped the formal activities didn´t take up too much time. He had wanted to make this visit as fast as possible. He´d even started the four-hour journey from London at six in the morning so that they might have a chance of leaving the prison before sunset. He did not want to be here after dark.

The prison guards escorted them to an official looking room where the warden was waiting in his best uniform. The warden was a strong, beefy looking wizard in his sixties. There was the usual formality associated with an inspection of the facility by a dignitary such as the Deputy Chancellor; a gathering of non-essential guards and auxiliary personnel, appropriate introductions, and a welcoming speech. There was even a presentation of gifts by the warden to the Deputy Chancellor.

Sirius smiled stiffly as he accepted a large chunk of engraved serpentine stone. The warden had said it was a rare piece of the old Azkaban that had been renovated after the Dementors had been removed as guards. He hastily handed the gift to Colin, as if holding it would burn his skin. Sirius tried hard not to get sarcastic in his remarks after the presentation, thanking the warden for such a thoughtful gift. Instead, he satisfied himself with the thought of heaving the damn thing as far as he could throw it as soon as they were out in open water on the yacht once more.

As they progressed through the facilities on their tour, the warden introduced some of the more notorious prisoners and made them kneel before Sirius. That made Sirius very uncomfortable, but then, so did bringing them to a standing position. It felt too much like a priest giving forgiveness, which he most certainly was not. As each prisoner knelt, the warden described their crimes. Some were in for murder, some for casting the unforgivable curses, but many were there for smuggling and other lesser offences.

"Our own batch of Dementors are around that hallway and three flights down. They tend not to like the sunlight and they need to be kept away from the other prisoners or they´ll feed on them."

"Yes, I know," said Sirius coldly.

The warden looked surprised, as if he hadn´t even thought about the fact that Sirius had once been a prisoner here, which would explain why the daft man thought his gift had been appropriate.

Sirius glared back at him, then looked off in that direction. He knew his former cell was in that direction as well. That was part of the old section of the fortress and in those days, he was kept on the ground floor so that his cell flooded when there was a particularly hard rain.

"Do you want to go there?" Draco whispered in his ear.

Sirius jerked his attention away from the hall and looked at Draco.

Draco´s face was neutral. "Sometimes you need to face the demons." Draco paused. "Or not." He shrugged and walked on.

The warden had gone in the opposite direction and Sirius adjusted his stride to catch up. He could feel the pull of the memories and somewhere a need to see and be seen by the Dementors. That childish desire to spit in their faces. Sirius shook his head and went on.

"This is our only current serial murderer and rapist in the place. He is our most dangerous prisoner. There are spells and wards around these bars that prevent us from even hearing him."

The prisoner in the cell was casually standing with his arms through the bars. He was watching the group, but didn´t look like he could hear. The warden talked about his crimes in detail enough to make Sirius squirm and want to leave as soon as he could. He backed up from the rest of the group, standing off to the side a bit while the rest were in rapt attention to the grisly recitation of the prisoner´s charms.

The phrase most dangerous prisoner repeated in his brain. How many times had he heard that phrase when Fudge would bring people through. Most dangerous prisoner.

The entourage moved on, but Sirius continued to stare at the prisoner, as the prisoner stared back at him. Sirius could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but didn´t look away until tapped on the shoulder by Colin.

Suddenly there was a large clanging sound, from just ahead of the group. By the time Sirius rounded the corner there were two guards lying in pools of blood near an open cell door. Draco, the warden, and the other prison guards took off with assurances from Colin that they would take care of the injured. Colin and his team went to work on the two bleeding guards. Sirius just backed away as he slowly absorbed the scene. The visual wasn´t bad, he´d seen worse, but then the smell hit him. It was the smell of Azkaban. It was a peculiar mixture of blood, fear, salt ocean air, sweat, rock, pain, and desperation. He´d hadn´t smelled it before this. The thought occurred to him that the place had been spiffed up for his visit. It was the blood that added that missing ingredient. He took a deep breath to try to calm his racing heart, and what was going on faded from his vision.

When he became aware again he was there, in front of his old cell. Even though most of the cells and hallways looked nearly identical and there had been an effort to spruce up this section of the prison, Sirius could tell exactly which cell had been his. There was no one in this part of the prison at the moment. It was in the older section, which meant it was cold and drafty and open to many of the elements. Sirius was shaking as he pulled his robes tightly around himself. He would have thought that he was cold, except for the small beads of sweat trickling down his back. He stood for a very long time gazing into that cell.

There wasn´t really enough of any specific activity to generate a distinct memory. He remembered lying over in that corner a lot in his Animagus form, because occasionally the sun would break through and warm that patch of rock. He tended to stay away from that other corner, because he remembered he could feel his Dementor guard more strongly in that corner. They´d kept Dementors outside his cell nearly the whole time he was there. His strongest memory was cold and hard. Just those two words summed it up. Hard and cold. It was a deep and penetrating cold that went not just skin deep, but to the core of his soul. He knew, at that time, his feeling of being cold was not just inflicted by the Dementors but also by his own guilt at what he´d done to James and Lily and Harry, for that matter. It had been his fault. All his therapy had told him it wasn´t, but he still knew it was.

He had no idea how long he had been standing there, but he knew he´d had enough. It felt like closure for him. He felt stronger for having seen this place again, and standing on the outside rather than peering out from the inside of those bars. He began to walk. He was deep in thought and not really paying attention to where he was headed. Then he heard it. That deep rattling breath of a Dementor trying to suck energy from anything and everything.

He looked up and there were five of them prowling a deep, dark, and dank cell. He forced himself to stay in human form. His instinct was to transform and run, but he wanted them to see him. He knew that none of these Dementors had been his guards, but it just seemed like there should be some sort of collective memory to work with there. They began to approach the bars as Sirius backed up as far as he could. He drew his wand and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

A huge, silver, furry dog exploded from his wand. It slipped through the bars and drove the Dementors back into their corner. It was a strong Patronus, because the memory he called upon was a very happy memory, and one he could draw strength and warmth from. As the Patronus prowled the cell and back out again, snarling and nipping at any Dementor that might venture towards them, Sirius began to vent. He told them who he had been, who he was, and what he thought of them. He laughed as they cowered away from the Patronus as it charged them once or twice. He cursed at them and finished with a fine array of epithets just as the Patronus began to fade.

He felt omnipotent, and triumphant. He knew the only thing better in the heart of his hearts would be killing them and watching them burn. He knew a fair number of pyrotechnic curses, and began to consider which one to use on these obviously worthless creatures.

"What the hell are you doing here, Sirius? The whole fucking staff is searching for you. Colin´s about to have a hippogriff." It was Draco coming around a corner. "You look like you´re about to do something stupid."

Sirius was surprised out of his thoughts. "Go away, Draco, this is none of your business."

"Fine, it´s just if you kill one of these creatures, they'll put you back in here. What about all life forms being integral to the wizarding world."

Sirius hated it when one of his speeches was quoted back to him, so he struck back. "Oh, you´re a fine one to preach on the sanctity of all life. Your family was instrumental in the purges against Muggle born wizards. These are Dementors, not even humans, what do you care if I torch a few."

"Torch? That´s kind of a strong dark arts curse, isn´t it?" Draco said in an amazed voice

"You should know," Sirius mocked.

"Yes, I should know. Look, let´s just leave these things and get the hell out of here. You still need to talk to Randall, and I need to talk to Lucius. If you keep on like this, neither of us will get what we came here for and you´ll have to come back. Do you really want that?"

Sirius looked at him for a very long moment and thrust his wand back into it´s place in his robes. "Fine."

Draco clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, doesn´t that feel better?"

"No, it would have felt better to torch the whole lot of them."

"I know, but then you´d be back in here and I´d be out of a job."

Sirius laughed. "Ahhhh, so purely self-interest, eh?"

"It´s the Malfoy way," Draco shrugged.

A few minutes later they were back in the warden´s office. The escaped prisoners had been caught, and the guards were in the infirmary. Colin was angry, the warden was apologetic, and Sirius was waiting silently for Mason Randall to be brought up through the lock-down that had been implemented as a result of the incident.

A guard stepped into the room. "The prisoners are ready to interrogate, sir."

The warden nodded and had two younger guards escort Sirius and Draco into neighbouring interrogation rooms. Draco murmured, "Good luck," as he entered the room that held his father. Sirius glanced back as he entered the one that held Randall.

The warden followed Sirius into the interrogation room, introduced the prisoner, and gave them the rules. Their meeting would be monitored for spells and physical contact, but their conversation would not be.

Sirius settled into the chair. Randall was tall and blonde with a moustache. He was dressed in the prison robes that looked neither flattering, comfortable, or warm. He was thin, wiry really, with a very pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes.

"Mr. Black. So nice to meet you. I´ve heard so much about you," he said with a blank face.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "In general, or something specific."

"We´ll see, won´t we. Now, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Do you know a witch named Maggie Nielson?" Sirius asked, watching the prisoner´s reaction carefully.

"Yes, she used to be my lover, until she decided to sleep ... um, let´s just say he was someone I worked with," Randall stated in an unemotional voice.

"So you killed because of her and that´s how you got in here. Or so I´ve been told."

"No, I didn´t get a chance to kill him. I killed one of his body guards trying to get to him, but ... no, I didn´t get to kill him. I wanted to though, at least he gave me a good fight. I think I might have forgiven him if he hadn´t landed me in here."

"That would put a damper on things. She said you had given her a fossil, an ammonite, to get rid of. What was that all about?"

Randall smiled a slow smile. "I´ve been waiting for someone to ask me about that."

"Interesting story?"

"Very. It has nothing to do with why I´m here, but everything to do with the man I was trying to kill."

"Go on," Sirius prompted.

Randall laughed. "You want to know how long I´ve been wanting to tell someone all of this? It´s my only revenge against the man. He should have thought about everything I knew before he put me away in here. I don´t think he ever thought anyone would care about what I know. I tried to tell them, but they said it wasn´t relevant and ignored me."

"Well, now you have your chance. Who is this mysterious man?"

"His name is Avian Peregrine." Sirius´ head jerked up. "I see you´re familiar with the name."

Recovering from the surprise, Sirius schooled his face back to its previous configuration, devoid of expression. "I had a run in with a Sloan Peregrine a few years back, are they related?"

"Sloan was Avian´s older brother. Avian is very young and rather arrogant. He thinks he can be this big shot art criminal, but he´s stupid and careless and he has a particular vendetta against you."

"Oh? Vengeance for his brother´s death?"

"That and that little investigation you stirred up about the travel talismans. Peregrine was particularly good at stealing them and getting Muggle insurance companies to pay him off. When Malfoy began to stick his nose in everywhere about those things, he got nervous and decided you needed to be replaced."

Sirius was shocked. "Replaced? How would he do that?"

"By demonstrating your mental incompetence. He would spend hours ranting about the fact that you were just shy of being a lunatic. Then one day he got this look on his face. You´ve been noticing things happening to you lately."

"Yeah."

"Most have been orchestrated by Mr. Peregrine."

"What was your part in this and why are you telling me this?" Sirius asked.

"Brownie points, maybe clemency granted by the Deputy Chancellor," Randall suggested.

"Why didn´t you get in contact with me?"

"They wouldn´t let me. I told my Ministry appointed attorney and he just laughed. No one wanted to know," Randall shrugged.

Sirius knew the general incompetence of the British Ministry of Magic, but he thought they had gotten better. Maybe not.

Randall confirmed, "They had a guilty man. I was standing there over the body and admitted doing it. What more did they need from me?"

"So what did you do for Peregrine?"

"I was a conduit and a thief. I would break in and steal artifacts, art work, sculpture, paintings. Anything he wanted. Then I would arrange for Maggie to help me disguise the piece and transport it to another country where it could be sold. Peregrine would get the Muggle insurance money and then get more money when the disguised stolen piece was sold again," Randall explained.

"So what did any of this have to do with me?"

"Like I said, you sent Malfoy to poke about the art world. Malfoy is way too good at putting two and two together. Peregrine got worried, and then he had hated you for a long time as well. He wanted to get you removed as Deputy Chancellor. The idea was to drive you nuts and get you committed to St. Mungo´s."

Sirius scoffed trying not to let on just how close the plan was coming to actually succeeding.

Randall continued, "This is the best part. After the wine we poisoned, and the curse we put on the stairs at your house, he decided he wasn´t going to be effective by just ruining you personally. He needed something to discredit you professionally. He somehow got hooked up with the Pard, have you heard of them?" Randall asked cautiously.

Sirius tried to maintain a neutral face, but he was surprised. "As a matter of fact I have. What do you know about them?"

"Only that they are an odd lot and so secretive it makes the Ministry Aurors seem like public information officers. The only thing I was able to learn before I tried to kill him was that they gave him the ammonite, and he was supposed to continue his efforts to hurt you personally and they were going to work to discredit you diplomatically, because you had slighted them somehow."

"What does the ammonite do?"

"It´s a type of Portkey, but not for everyone. He used it a few times. He seemed to know what triggered it, but he didn´t let on to me. I started getting uncomfortable with the plan, so when I saw it lying out on his desk, a week before I caught them together, I took it and told Maggie that if anything happened to me to hide it. I told her not to keep it with her, but put it somewhere she could get it if she needed anything. I figured she could blackmail him with it. I didn´t know she was sleeping with him at the time and wouldn´t need to blackmail him," Randall said ruefully.

"So, you gave it to Maggie, but you don´t know where it goes or how it works?"

"Nope. How do you know about it? Do you have it, and how did you get it?"

"I don´t have it. My wife got it through a series of strange circumstances, and she´s disappeared. I think it disappeared with her."

"Oh, that´s rich! He had been trying to think of ways to get it into your hands. He seemed to think you would trigger it. How the heck did your wife trigger it?´

"We have no idea."

"Sorry, I can´t help you there. He wouldn´t talk about them to me."

Sirius sat back to think about it all.

"You´ve been helpful, Mr. Randall. You´ve cleared up more than a few mysteries in my life, but introduced a lot more. The IFW detectives who have been working on the incidents in my life will be paying you a visit, and they will listen to you. If you provide information that proves helpful in implicating Mr. Peregrine, I will look into your sentence here."

"I´d appreciate that, Mr. Black."

Sirius stood and the two men shook hands. "I´ll be back if I have any more questions for you."

"I´ll be here."

Sirius left the room.

Draco entered interrogation room next door to Sirius´. Lucius was there, looking like a king on a throne who had granted an interview to a mere mortal.

"Hello Draco."

"Hello Lucius."

"To what do I owe the honour of a visit? It's been quite awhile."

"I don't particularly enjoy coming here and being told what a waste I am, so yes, it has been a long time."

"But, here you are. I am going to tell you that you are a waste. You just never did understand the benefits of self-preservation."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Self-preservation, my arse, it was always about control and power to you, and you know it. You sold your soul, so don't talk to me about self-preservation."

Lucius looked bored. "All right. Now that we have the formalities out of the way, what do you want. I know it's not a social visit, nor is it to make my life more bearable."

"I need information on a brooch you gave Mum years ago."

"Ah, well, which brooch, I gave that wench so much jewellery over the years I would hardly know which one to which you refer."

"Wench? That's no way to refer to the love of your life."

"What would you know about that? You've never had more than a one night stand, except that awful Quinn woman. What did she do for you, Draco? Was she that good?"

"Yes, she was, but that is none of your business. The brooch is this one." Draco drew the ammonite brooch from his cloak and laid it on the table between them.

"Oh! That brooch. Yes, I gave that to her as a joke. I knew she'd never wear it, because she is much more enamoured of things that actually look expensive rather than things that are actually worth something."

"So this is worth something?"

"Yes. It is only one of five left in the world that we know of."

"Mum said there were twenty," Draco interjected.

"There may be more, but there are only five that float about the antiquities markets. They are dreadfully old. Most have been dated to at least 1100 years ago. The fossils themselves are older, I'm talking about their use as a magical object."

"So, they are a magical object?"

"Yes. They were connected to an ancient cult based in India. The only trouble with them is it wasn't ever clarified whether it was a Wizard or Muggle based cult, and what the goal of the cult was. They are rumoured to still be in existence today, but nothing is known for sure."

"How do you know it is a magical object?"

"Parkinson and I experimented with it for awhile."

"Really? What triggered the Portkey?"

"The only ones who we could get to trigger it were shapeshifters. We had one werewolf trigger it and one Animagus. The Animagus never came back and the werewolf was severely injured and didn't remember a thing. Even we couldn't break the memory charm."

"So it's some sort of shapeshifting cult?" Draco asked.

"It might be, but then it might be something they use to protect against werewolves?"

"What, by transporting them into their midst?"

"Or transporting them somewhere they knew they would be killed."

"That would be effective if they had a vendetta, I suppose. So, a werewolf or shapeshifter touches this and they get sent to who knows where and either never come back or come back hurt?"

"It wasn't just being a shapeshifter, blood was needed as well. Why is this any concern of yours?" Lucius asked.

"I don't think I should tell you, as you probably still have some strong ties to the Circle and I'm sure they could use it somehow."

"Suit yourself. I was just looking for something to occupy my time. But, your mother should be along in a few days. She comes once a month to see that I have enough of everything. Not that you'd know. She says you don't even see her that often."

"No, I don't. She wants to run my life and I think I'm doing a bang up job of it without either of you."

"I see you inherited a certain arrogance from me. It makes me proud. There might be hope for you yet." He was smiling, but his eyes remained cold.

"Not in the way you're thinking, Lucius," Draco said firmly.

Lucius shook his head and looked at Draco as if he were a young child. "Ah, you're young yet. There is plenty of time for you to end this silly rebellion and go back to your roots. You weren't placed in Slytherin house for nothing, my dear boy."

"There are Slytherins that don't Practice, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course there are, but not one of your calibre. You'll return. I know all adolescents go through this rebellion against their parent values. Wizards live a long time, and I'm not going anywhere."

Draco was trying very hard to keep the anger out of his voice. "Values? You have no values. Anything was acceptable if it served you and your purposes."

"Of course, anyone who tells you they do anything different is a liar," Lucius stated, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco shook his head. "You do live in a shallow world, don't you, Lucius?"

"Well, here I do. There is a great depth of things you have no understanding of." Now it was Lucius´ voice that held the anger.

Draco sighed, suddenly very tired. "And a great deal I have no desire to have an understanding of."

Lucius raised one eyebrow at that. "So, you'd blind yourself to the potential in order to follow these values you hear tell of?"

"I am not discussing this further with you. I've gotten about all the information I'm going to get from you. I'll tell Mother you're well."

"Before you leave there is something I want you to have."

"Will it kill me or entrance me?" Draco asked warily.

"Would I do that to you?"

"Yes."

"I'm disappointed. No, this is something I always meant for you to have. There is a ring in a Gringotts vault I established with the legal possessions I wanted to be yours. I knew the Ministry would confiscate everything they could and I wanted to make sure this went to you."

"What is it?"

"It's a ring your grandfather gave me and that should be passed down to you and your children after you."

"Ah, an heirloom thing?" Draco asked cautiously.

"Yes, simply an heirloom. I swear there will be no adverse effect from wearing it," Lucius assured.

Lucius gave Draco the vault number and secret password. "As much as you hate to admit it, you still are my son and I want you to have some of the things that connect us to our shared heritage. I want people to know you are still a Malfoy, even if you are turning into a do-gooder. It might help the family image at the moment."

"People don't forget who I am, trust me on that," Draco said cynically.

"Having a hard time making friends, Draco?"

"No, it just seems that some people can't get past who I am."

"Nor should they, Draco. Nor should they."

With that, Lucius signalled the guard to take him back to his cell. He stood straight and tall, full of arrogance and pride. He looked like a king summoning a servant and drew his robes around him regally and effectively. He glanced at Draco as he was being led through the door and he had a smile on his face that seemed overly pleased for the tenure of the conversation.

Draco felt a chill run down his spine as he exited the room as quickly as possible. He strode into the warden's office. Heads turned and the look was expectant.

"Let's get the hell out of here, we can talk on the boat, in private." Draco crossed the room and waited by the door.

"We were just waiting for you, Mr. Malfoy," remarked Sirius as he stood and indicated to Colin that they were ready. The warden re-entered his office and formal farewells were given.

Even though Sirius left the fortress as quickly as he could, he couldn't help but feel an urgency to go faster, in case someone changed their minds and decided he should be back within those awful walls.

The team had exchanged information and everyone knew what everyone else had found out. At least as much as Draco would reveal. Whether he revealed all the relevant information was anyone's guess, but Sirius was going to have to trust him if he was to be relied upon for information. There was still doubt, though.

Sirius slouched in the large deep brown leather chair. He hadn´t removed his official DC robes; in fact he´d kept them on in hopes that they might make him feel warmer than just the jeans and shirt he had on under them. He had a large wool jumper stashed in the drawer in his stateroom, but he couldn´t bring himself to go in there at this moment. He leaned his head back on the back of the chair and tried to close his eyes and go to sleep. The rocking motion of the ship should have been enough to lull him to sleep on the four hour journey back to London from Azkaban, but sleep was not possible, and had not been possible since she disappeared.

Usually it was that disappearance that played in front of his eyelids every time they were shut, but this time that image had been replaced by a much more pleasant one. He savoured this image and held his eyes tight, trying to hold onto it and recall every detail and nuance, every touch and movement, every thought and word that was said. This was the image he´d called up while conjuring the strongest Patronus he´d ever attempted. The scene played through and did the trick. The Patronus was the clearest, most distinct silver bear like dog he´d ever seen. He could see and feel the length of the dog´s coat. He could feel the weight of it in the air, moving towards the Dementors, driving them back to the furthest corner of their cell. They hadn´t been all that threatening after all, but he´d wanted to make a point. This had made that point in spades and this memory had helped him make that point.

This was the fifth time he´d been through this memory. To some, it might have been torture to relive it time after time, but it was one of his happiest memories, so replaying it eased his pain, just a little. The downside meant that he hungered just a little more for her than he naturally did all day, every day, even when she hadn´t been missing for nearly twelve days.

He relaxed into the chair and folded his hands across his stomach. Eyes closed, he concentrated on seeing the memory like a Muggle movie or videotape, but one that had depth and smell and dimension.

It was the Christmas before last at Cordelia´s family farm. The weather was brisk and it was snowing just enough to make it beautiful, but not enough to delay any plans or prevent them from going out and playing in the snow. The air had that crisp clean smell, with underpinnings of pine and dead leaves. The memory started with him lying in bed staring at Cordelia. Sirius and Cordelia had been up late wrapping gifts and setting them under the tree, and Cordelia had been up twice more, feeding and quieting Ian. Charlie was nearly four years old and Ian nearly four months. Oddly enough, Charlie was not awake yet, but Sirius knew that would change soon. He watched her sleep, knowing he couldn´t get any serious touching started for fear of being horribly embarrassed by a very articulate three year old. So he just watched, trying to memorize the planes and dimensions of her face. He wished she would wake up so he could see the blue of her eyes, but wasn´t selfish enough to wake her just for that.

He was just about to reach across and touch her face when he heard the feet approaching, and it wasn´t a simple pitter patter of little elves feet either. This began with a loud thud, followed by several more thuds descending the stairs, a gasp, followed by a quick succession of thuds approaching their room. The thuds paused for a moment while the door was flung open and forty pounds of little girl was hurled onto the bed. He remembered the force with which she landed on him as he gasped to take a breath. She´d landed right on his stomach and he gave a large "ooof" and grabbed her.

He wrestled her under the covers between him and Cordelia as he looked over to see she was indeed awake and smiling. With Charlie wedged between them, he remembered feeling Charlie's energy vibrating off of her as her excitement was barely contained. She squirmed free of their arms and sat up.

"Father Christmas has been here and he left me lots of stuff. Come on, Daddy, let's go see." She was pushing on him to get out of bed. While she was strong and persistent, she couldn´t move him all that much. When he refused to budge, she turned to Cordelia, "Come on, Mummy. Come see what I got. There´s lots of presents and I bet he brought you one, too."

Cordelia looked sleepily up from her pillow while Sirius stretched and threw back the covers. Digging under the bed for slippers, Charlie helpfully picked up the robe from the end of the bed and handed it to him.

"Come on. Come on," was the constant refrain.

The presents were unwrapped once Grandma Kate and Uncle Trevor were up. Ian woke about midway through the gift chaos and was brought into the fray with Charlie trying to pile gifts on top of Ian rather than on the floor in front. Sirius could remember that Charlie had a real hard time understanding why Ian wasn´t excited and why he just seemed to want to eat and cuddle into mummy.

"Doesn't he know it´s Christmas?" Charlie had exclaimed in a frustrated tone.

After gifts, Grandma Kate cooked a delicious breakfast. He could almost smell the cheese and ham in the omelettes, the bacon, and the muffins, the coffee and the tea and the cinnamon candles rounding out the smells.

After breakfast Sirius took Charlie up and got them dressed to go out sledding and playing in the snow. Charlie was such a good little trooper that day. So many days she would clamour to go outside only to wail that she was cold or uncomfortable once they got there. She babbled on about the snow man they built and screamed with delight as they descended the hill for the 180^th time. Finally he´d run out of warm up charms and their gloves and coats were soaked. They came in and Cordelia was showered, dressed, and had put Ian down for a morning nap. She was sitting serenely in the kitchen, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. So far, so good. No disasters, no whining, no groans of dread. He remembered holding his breath a bit, thinking it was going so well.

Hot chocolate and lunch came off without incident. He played horses with Charlie and helped her build a stable out of Legos and magic. Finally it was time for Charlie´s nap. Ian had awoken in time for lunch and Cordelia had taken him to play in his baby spinner while she answered Christmas cards and tidied up the Christmas mess. After Ian's mid afternoon snack he was ready to nap once more. Kate and Trevor had ridden down to the village for Christmas Day service, and the dinner guests were not expected for at least a few more hours.

Sirius had found Cordelia in the library reading. He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders.

"Tired?"

"Yeah, but last night was better than most. Ian actually slept for four hours straight."

"Amazing."

He had wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his head at the base of her neck. "Come upstairs and play with me?" he whispered.

She glanced at him, and raised an eyebrow. "Now? It´s the middle of the day. What if mum comes back."

"I´ll use silencing charms. I´ll leave a note that we´re napping. I´ll bar the door," after a few kisses to her neck, just behind the ear, "I´ll let you go if Ian wakes up."

Cordelia smiled. "You do know me, don´t you?"

"I try."

Sirius pulled back and reached for her hand. She took it and rose from the chair. Sirius turned her under his arm in a little swirl, then pulled her to him in a long, deep, exploring kiss.

Cordelia had been appropriately breathless.

"There´s more where that came from if you come right this way, my lady."

Cordelia just smiled and they left the library.

Sirius closed the bedroom door and locked it. "Your choice, bed or bath?"

Cordelia faced him and appeared to be making an exaggerated show of considering the alternatives. "Both," she had said finally, beginning to pull his jumper up towards his shoulders.

"Your wish, and all that," he said, removing the jumper and the shirt underneath in one fluid motion. He brought her mouth to his and drank her in. He remembered that kiss. He remembered her lips being softer than normal, her neck being warmer. He unzipped the wool jacket she was wearing and slid his hands under her shirt. Such soft skin, such nice curves, he thought as he popped the snap on her jeans.

He pulled back and turned towards the bathroom. He took her hand and pulled her along. Then let her go to get towels and candles. He turned the tap on the large Victorian claw tub. While not a modern Jacuzzi tub, this style had its charms and advantages. One end was taller than the other which meant that there could be some sloshing of water without spilling a lot over the sides.

He stripped off the rest of his clothes and leaned his hands on the side of the tub while adding bubble bath. He suddenly felt the hairs on his neck prickle, like he was being watched. He turned and found Cordelia leaning in the doorway in a robe. She gave him a long, hard stare which did not meet his eyes. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his legs, chest, shoulders, and other parts. She´d described him to him after they were in the tub, likening his body to Greek sculpture without the fig leaf. She´d joked that a fig leaf would not be enough to cover him, particularly when he was in this state. He laughed at this, and remembered he had blushed rather forcefully at that.

She finally moved towards him as she dropped the robe to the floor, keeping her eyes locked on his. His eyes, however, were not locked on hers. It was all he could do to keep from letting out a long low whistle. As it was, he knew she could tell he was happy to see her. Her dark hair framed her face with the fire from those sapphire eyes intent on her prey. She had a long slender neck, just right for burying your head in, licking the tender skin, and feeling the strong beat of her pulse.

She had long limbs, slender and graceful, with hands that seemed delicate, but were strong and sure and expressive. Her breasts were a bit fuller now than usual. She was still nursing Ian and that made them just that more attractive. He had never been attracted to extremely large breasts. Just ones with a bit of shape and weight. Large enough to hold and take into his mouth. Her waist was a smooth taper from the swell of her breasts to the swell of her hips. It wasn´t a dramatic curve, just subtle and suggestive. Her waist, as her breasts, were just a bit thicker than before their children were born, but he liked the result. It was as if the waist balanced the other parts with better symmetry than before.

He continued his gaze down to her hips and his hands ached to cup her bottom and hold her against him. That slope from the back to her arse was another perfect dimension. It just felt so right stroking down and down and down. As her arms were long, so were her legs. She wasn´t all that tall, but the proportions gave her the illusion of height. Part of that were the long slender legs that started at that warm, dark triangle, so familiar, yet exciting and exotic, to the perfectly manicured toes.

He was looking at her toes when she touched him. That first touch when they were naked always sent a thrill through his body, like touching a live wire. She had reached out and was stroking his arm. The tub was nearly full and the bubbles were bubbling. He climbed in first and she settled into the tub in front of him. Settling her against his chest and stroking her hair. They talked this way about the day and about the dinner plans and where the extra gifts were for the guests and when they might go back to London and what they had to do there when they got back and about nothing and everything. All the while he got to stroke her soft skin and spread bubbles over her breasts and slide his hands along her legs. She was likewise stroking and fondling and caressing.

Finally the conversation ran down and he could see her close her eyes and relax against his chest. Seemed a shame to disturb her, but he couldn´t help bringing his mouth to the length of her neck. It was stretched out right there in front of him, waiting to be licked and nibbled. After a bit of this she shifted her head to take his lips in her mouth. The position was awkward with her looking over her shoulder to kiss him, but the kiss was amazing, as they all were. At some point he thought he might get tired of her kisses, but he hadn´t yet, and it had been nearly six years of at least daily kisses.

She turned in his arms and drew away to kneel in the water. The bubbles were tracing down between her breasts and over her shoulders. She took his hand and drew him up to her, kneeling as well. He was a little taller than her while kneeling, but that just made it more fun to pretend to dominate her. This was a pretence that he´d never experienced in actuality, but a fantasy every once in awhile was a good thing.

She explored his lower curves with those marvellous hands as she licked the water from his chest and neck. Just as this action was getting interesting she pushed him back into a sitting position and straddled his hips, moving slightly in the water. She hadn´t taken him into her yet, but if she didn´t soon he was going to flip them over and...

Sitting on his lap like this put her breasts just about mouth height, if she arched her back, like she was doing. He took the left breast in his mouth, licking gently. He couldn´t bite down nor pull her completely into his mouth and suck as he wanted. That would start her milk flowing and while that could at times be interesting and different, he always felt like he was stealing. So he contented himself with licking and running his lips along her nipple and down through the valley between her breasts.

She was running her hands along his chest, tracing the pattern of hair across his upper chest and across his nipples, down his belly and around his navel. The water was keeping them toasty on such a cold day and in a room that sometimes got a bit nippy. It felt like a sauna in there and it wasn´t solely due to the water.

She had draped herself around him and he was concentrating on bringing them both to the edge without spilling the whole tub out. He couldn´t see her face, but he could feel her lips on his neck, feel the wobble of her breasts rubbing deliciously across his chest, and hear the small noises of building tension she claimed she never made. Finally, finally he let his control slip away and release all the love and desire that had built through the day. He remembered making some rather inhuman groans, but her cries were exhilarating. It meant he had won. Well, they had won and reached that golden plateau that was so hard to accomplish in the world of a family with two kids.

They lay in the deadening warmth of the tub, listening to see if anyone was home and/or awake. So far, so good. She sat up and turned around again as they washed each other. Another ten minutes and they were squeaky clean and Cordelia was stepping out of the bath and wrapping up in a large towel.

Sirius stepped out as well, releasing the drain to empty the tub. He wrapped a towel about his hips and led Cordelia to the bed. He pulled her towel off her and held the covers as she slipped in. They had about thirty minutes left of nap time and he planned to use it. She settled onto his shoulder and he felt her go limp with sleep before he could get her too stimulated. He relaxed and drifted off as well. Before he could even touch her again, there came a banging on the door ("Mummy, are you in there. Granma Kate says we have to start with the cookies.") and a crying in the distance, which meant Ian was awake and hungry (again).

She looked up at him with such longing and heat, he was sorry he hadn´t kept her awake to make love to her one more time this afternoon. They staggered from the bed and dressed, Sirius went to Charlie, Cordelia to tend to Ian.

The rest of the day was wonderful. Friends, and family, kids and wine, and all the while every time they came near one another they touched. Just a hand here, or a caress there, or leaning into her or touching her cheek. All those little touches that come naturally after so intimate an afternoon. After the kids and grands were in bed they stayed up much too late talking and laughing and drinking wine with Remus and Cordelia´s friends. They´d snuggled into the leather loveseat and maintained contact throughout the conversations, trivia games, and contest of who could tell the most bizarre tales. It was always that touch that reassured him that all this was real and that it was his life.

Sitting on the ship not touching her made her seem vaguely imaginary. He knew she wasn´t. Charlie and Ian were proof of that. But at the moment she was imaginary. If his hands could wrap around that creation, he´d feel a little warmer. At least he´d gotten some information. For now he´d need to be patient and keep her touch close, through his mind. That would have to be enough for now. It couldn´t be long, as he could see more blackouts and nightmares looming on the horizon. When they started in earnest he knew he´d be removed as Deputy Chancellor, which didn't sound all that bad at the moment. But then they would have exactly what they wanted and they would have won. They weren´t going to win and he was going to find her. He had to.