The Everlasting Day

7

Equo ne credite, Teucri. Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.

Do not trust the horse, Trojans. Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks even when they bring gifts.

- Virgil

* * *

Dawn had broken early the following morning for Sirius. He had barely slept all night - tossing and turning, pillow-beating, throwing the covers off, pulling them back - and in the end had crept downstairs to the battered, old, but very comfortable sofa to avoid disturbing Ariadne any more than he already had. He hadn't slept much down there either and as soon as the first pinkish light had crept through the kitchen windows, he had headed down to the pump house.

* * *

Buckbeak seemed somewhat more amenable than he had been the day before and didn't protest too much when Sirius led him outside to the edge of the pool, transfigured a dead, knarled branch into a thick bristled brush and started to carefully and methodically work the dried mud and straw out of Buckbeak's hair and feathers. Sirius enjoyed the monotony of the task. It was soothing and calming, the very nature of it helping him to focus less on the anxiety at the thought of what was to come and more on the glossiness of Buckbeak's coat. For his part, Buckbeak seemed to be enjoying it too - he didn't even once try to knock Sirius off his feet with his huge wings or peck at him playfully as he usually did whenever 'brushing' or 'washing' was mentioned. He just stood there patiently, cawing and snapping at passing birds or occasionally clawing at the ground and flicking his tail. Maybe, in some way, he understood that Sirius needed this distraction. Beaky seemed to have an uncanny knack for sensing his friend's moods; perhaps that was the reason they got along so well together, Sirius mused as he gave Beaky an affectionate hug.

The owl carrying the Daily Prophet arrived just as Sirius was heading back up to the house for breakfast. He took the bundle of papers, dropped a few Knuts into the leather pouch tied to the owl's leg and hastily opened the rolled-up Prophet. The familiar photograph of himself taken in Azkaban grinned manically back at him as his eyes moved to the large typeface emblazoned across the front page.

AZKABAN ESCAPEE IN WRONGFUL PROSECUTION PROBE.

Suspected Dark wizard, Sirius Black - once thought to be You-Know-Who's second in command and, notoriously, the only wizard ever to escape from Azkaban - was sensationally thrown into the centre of a new storm yesterday over discoveries made by respected member of the wizarding community, Mr Lucius Malfoy. These newly uncovered facts seem to suggest that the crime for which Black was originally incarcerated - the murder of Mr Peter Pettigrew, an old friend of Black's from Hogwarts school - might never actually have taken place.

Mr Malfoy, generous benefactor of St Mungo's Hospital and senior advisor to the Ministry of Magic, yesterday confirmed that both he and his wife witnessed Mr Pettigrew leaving a Muggle public house in London's East End Tuesday evening last in what Mr Malfoy described as, 'A very unconvincing disguise.'

Regular readers of the Prophet will be only too aware of the horrific incident almost thirteen years ago in which a dozen Muggles and...

The story went on to describe the details of the whole sorry affair, which culminated in Sirius' being carted off to Azkaban without a trial.

Some confusion still surrounds the culpability for the deaths of the twelve Muggles and the Ministry officials this reporter contacted yesterday stated how vital it is that they speak to Mr Peter Pettigrew and urge any readers to report any sightings of him immediately. He is now known to be an unregistered animagus and may be hiding in rat form. He should be considered very dangerous and no person should attempt to use magic against him under any circumstances, but instead should notify the Ministry immediately.

Mr Black has managed to evade capture for just over a year and his current whereabouts are unknown. It is hoped, however, that Mr Black will present himself to the authorities as soon as possible so that the case may be reopened and his involvement in the incident reinvestigated...............

................The Ministry refused to comment as to the possibility of compensation for Mr Black in the light of this alleged, potentially very serious, miscarriage of justice. Readers may recall from last year that Mr Black's sentence had been increased from a life sentence to The Dementors Kiss. This reporter shudders to think of the potential consequences for the Ministry had such a final penalty been administered in the light of today's facts.

Read Ms Witherspoon's editorial on page 3, 'Cruel and Unusual Punishment? The Illegality and Moral Dilemma Posed by the Ministry's Continued Use of the Dementors Kiss as Final Punishment.'

Sirius' hands were shaking so badly by the time he got to the bottom of the article that he had trouble reading the words. He felt nauseous and ecstatic at the same time and his stomach felt as though there were something alive in there beating desperately with tiny fists to get out. If he hadn't read it with his own eyes he would have had trouble believing it.

Barely able to contain himself, he sprinted the rest of the way back to the house and burst through the front door.

'Ariadne! It's here! Ari, sweetheart?'

She appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, coffee cup in hand as she yawned and padded across the wood-block floor, collapsing tiredly onto the sofa. She patted the seat next to her, inviting him to take it.

'You sound excited,' she said with a healthy dose of irony as he sat beside her. 'I take it that it was a favourable report, then.'

'Favourable? They're talking about compensation, Ariadne! I just can't believe it...after all this time...how could Malfoy pull this off so thoroughly, so quickly?'

'Power, money and influence,' she replied bitterly. 'They're the only things that matter. If you have those, I think pretty much anything is possible.'

'Maybe we're on the wrong side then, huh?'

'The bigger they come, the harder they fall, Sirius. Just remember that,' she said heavily. 'Those with most to lose will feel it all the more when they have to watch their lives turning to dust and slipping away through their fingers...just as we had to.'

'I don't know about that,' he said sullenly. 'I didn't have much else left to lose after Lily and James died and I felt it well enough. So did you. And Remus...and Harry and all the others who suffered after that night.'

Ariadne squeezed his hand supportively. She knew that there were very few people in the world who could ever truly understand how he must have felt - to not only lose two of your best friends, but to be accused of their murder too, then to be unjustly incarcerated for the rest of your life. It was like something out of a nightmare.

'Well just imagine how much worse it's going to be for Malfoy and the rest of his kind. Death would be far too easy a punishment for them, Sirius. Their time will come.'

'I suppose,' he said, still not sounding totally convinced.

'Anyway,' Ariadne continued brightly in a valiant effort to shift the subject away a little from one that was so clearly upsetting him. 'What about the letters? What did they say?'

'I don't know, I haven't looked at them yet.'

'Well come on!' she said enthusiastically, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. 'They're the most important part!'

Sighing reluctantly, afraid of what might greet him, he unrolled the second batch of parchments and laid them out in his lap. The first one was a copy of a Ministry stamped inter-office memo.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC - MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT DEPARTMENT

FROM: Amelia Bones, Department Head

TO: All Aurors

RE: Sirius Black, Case #MGCLE118113

In the light of the new information received this week regarding the above numbered case, Minister for Magic, Mr Cornelius Fudge, has ordered the reopening of the investigation to take into account the possibility that Mr Peter Pettigrew may still be alive. As a result, a session of the Wizengamot held on Wednesday, 26^th July 1994 ruled that until such time as a new hearing can be convened, Mr Black should be released on bail. However, as Mr Black's whereabouts are currently unknown following his escape from Azkaban, it should be noted by all Aurors that under no circumstances should Mr Black be harmed or arrested if sighted. Instead, he should be approached cautiously with the new information and encouraged to make himself known to the defence attorney assigned to represent him at the reconvened hearing, Mr Archibald Leech.

The Muggle-Relations office will be notifying the relevant authorities to ensure that the Muggle police are also aware that Mr Black is no longer wanted, but this office recognises that Mr Black may still be in danger from the relatives of the victims who died in the original incident. Therefore, it will be every Auror's duty to ensure Mr Black's safety should he be located.

To reiterate, Sirius Black IS NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES to be harmed. If he does resist when intercepted, only the use of basic body-binding or second level stunning spells is authorised. It should also be noted that there have been no indications during the year and a half Black has been at large that he has attacked or otherwise hurt another person, Muggle or Wizard. All aurors should be reassured by this but should nonetheless adhere to the warnings as set out in this memo as well as standard codes of practise as laid down under the 1976 Arrest Protocol Rationale (Department of Magical Law Enforcement Statutes) for the taking of prisoners with minimal force.

Please circulate to all aurors currently serving.

'Oh god...Sirius,' Ariadne sighed, gripping his arm. 'If only this could have happened some other way.'

'I don't see how it could have. If there had been any other way, we would have taken it, but it's done. We've set things in motion and it's too late to back out now.'

'I know that. I wouldn't want to. I just wish that we could be sitting here, reading this, without being in debt to Malfoy, that's all. If only those blinkered old fools could have realised this years ago...before we all had to go through such...well...such terrible, awful years...you more than anyone else...'

'Yeah, I know,' he sighed, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, 'but we're not really in debt to him, are we? He's only doing what we asked him to because he thinks there's something in it for him. He's not doing us any favours, Ariadne. I have no doubts that we'll pay for it,' he added darkly.

'What about the other letter?' she asked in an effort to change the subject as quickly as possible. She didn't want to allow herself even a second to contemplate what he might have meant by that. Most people were only too aware of what the Death Eaters were usually asked to do. She sincerely hoped that this would all be over before those kinds of loyalty demonstrations became necessary.

He unrolled the last piece of parchment and held it up for them both to read together.

Dear Ariadne,

I trust that the news this morning was pleasing to you and a certain other individual. Further to these notices, I am pleased to be able to tell you that Mr Leech is in receipt of other pieces of evidence concerning Mr Pettigrew gathered over the past few months, supplied by me, that confirm that he is alive, but also that he is an unregistered animagus. His wand was 'recovered' last night from a hidden store of some of the Dark Lord's 'possessions' and has been presented to the Wizengamot for the performance of the Priori Incantato charm that should provide the final proof of our friends' innocence.

Whilst I know you will appreciate that I can do little more than I have already done, I must highlight the importance of our mutual friend's behaviour when he shows himself. Much hinges on the upcoming formalities.

The meeting we discussed has been arranged for the same time tonight at the same location.

I shall expect you both then.

Yours sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy.

Sirius shuddered as he read the last few lines, the tiny black letters fusing and blurring as tears of both relief and resurgence of old pain swam in his eyes. He tossed the parchment aside and leaned back into the sofa, grateful for Ariadne's support as she leaned across him, slipping her arm around his waist and nestling her head against his chest.

'It'll be all right, Sirius,' she whispered as he absently ran his fingers through her hair, staring off at nothing in particular. 'I know you're worried, but we've got them convinced so far, haven't we? You have to keep believing that we have the strength to do this. Whatever happens, Malfoy's given the Ministry proof now. All we have to do is keep going for just a little bit longer. We'll be okay, Sirius. You have to keep believing it.'

'I want to believe, with all my heart, Ari. But I know these people better than you do. I spent six years fighting them. You think the Dark Mark is the worst they can do? I'm worried about this initiation...not because of the Mark itself - heaven only knows I've been hurt far more than that in the past - but because of what they might ask us to do. Malfoy is sharper than we're giving him credit for. I don't understand why he's moved so quickly for us when we've done nothing for him yet. There's something he hasn't told us...something he wants us to do...he can still pull the whole thing apart if he wanted to. The Dementors might still get their chance with me yet.'

She sat up quickly, pulling away from him, glaring at him with desperate fear flashing in her green eyes. 'I don't ever want to hear you say things like that again, Sirius,' she said resolutely, 'do you understand? Never. If they want us to do something terrible, we just won't do it. It's as simple as that. Merlin, after I get you back after twelve years...do you really think I'd let those bloody Dementor things anywhere near you again? I'd die first.'

Sirius closed his eyes and sighed at her naivety. That had been part of the reason why he hadn't wanted her to walk alone right into the midst of the lions in the first place. His doubts were burgeoning beneath the pressure of the need to act soon, the feelings lodging themselves as a permanent physical presence in the centre of his stomach. He felt sick and instinctively, his arms tightened around her as he pushed a kiss into her hair.

'I really wish it were that simple. I really do, sweetheart,' he whispered and he was glad that she hadn't heard him.

* * *

Sirius had never worried so much about what to wear in his entire life. Aside from the fact that nothing that had belonged to Snape would be something that he would have chosen for himself, he felt somehow inadequate and vulnerable, fearful of wearing something that Malfoy might have instantly recognised as a hand-me-down. He'd always had a nose that could detect the whiff of poverty from a ten-mile radius, but the irony of it was that Sirius was far from destitute. He must have had a fortune comparable to the one left to Harry by Lily and James, but he couldn't touch it. Although the Gringotts goblins were impartial and cared nothing for the private lives of their clients, including whether or not they were suspected mass murderers, he didn't have Crookshanks to help him this time. So, Madame Malkins' store would have to do without his patronage for a little while longer, whatever The Prophet might have said that morning. He still wasn't safe yet.

Consequently, as he stood in front of the mirror in Ariadne's bedroom wearing suit trousers, a baggy-sleeved shirt, doublet, ruche, leather gloves and cloak, all done in a darker shade of black, all of which had - at some point - been worn by Snivellus, he felt about as self confident as a first-year at Hogwarts who was about to be sorted.

Ariadne was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs back and forth like she was eleven again too, watching him, a bemused but affectionate expression brightening her face as she enjoyed his awkwardness.

'You look great, Sirius,' she assured him, her eyes travelling over him appraisingly, 'really you do. Severus hardly wore them anyway, that's why they were put away. He said they were too much...well...' Her cheeks turned a slightly warmer shade of rose and she looked down at her feet, trying to hide her smile.

He turned to her, his eyebrows knitting together in a scowl of suspicion as he crossed his arms over his chest. 'Too much...what?'

'Well...too...showy... Too much like...like something you would wear.'

Sirius threw his head back, his deep, barking laugh echoing around the room.

'Oh, Ari, sweetheart, you couldn't have said anything better to me if you'd tried,' he said, still chuckling as he wiped the tears from his eyes. 'So old Snivellus didn't like these, eh? Well in that case, they're just bloody perfect.'

'I wish you wouldn't call him that,' she said, trying to be diplomatic, but she was still smiling. 'He is my brother.'

'A brother who hasn't spoken to you in twelve years.'

Her smile became awkward and strained, fading away like a deflated balloon. She dodged his eyes and moved to get up from the bed. 'Yeah...well...maybe I should go make us something to eat before we...er...go...'

Instantly, he regretted his flippancy as he saw the pain that had flickered in her eyes in the instant before she had looked away from him. 'Oh god, I'm sorry, Ari,' he said softly, stepping in front of her, his hands on her arms. 'I didn't know that it mattered to you so much, but I should have known, I should have thought before I...I didn't mean to upset you. Sweetheart, you know I'd never say or do anything to hurt you. I'm sorry.'

She shrugged and sighed, but he could see tears glistening in her eyes even though she kept them pinned stubbornly to the floor, 'I know you never liked him, Sirius, and I understand why. I know he teased me and made fun of me, but that was only when he was at school, when the other kids were around. At home, he was always so wonderful with me - so patient and kind...but no one ever saw that side of him because no one ever bothered to look. He only refused to have anything to do with me later because he was afraid of what everyone else would say, the comeback on the family. I can't help it if I still love him. He's the only brother I'm ever going to have. I just wish things could have been different.'

'Then he deserves his nickname, doesn't he?' Sirius said bitterly.

'No, he doesn't,' she said softly, yielding to his embrace. 'He's just a bit bull-headed sometimes. I suppose, in a strange way, he had my best interests at heart. He just doesn't know how to express himself without upsetting people. He really is a good man.'

Sirius felt an old anger twisting in his gut as he held her, listening to her making excuses for her narcissistic, egotistical, arrogant, asshole of a brother who had always treated her like a substandard form of life, no matter which way she chose to look at it. But then, that had always been Ariadne's way - to try to see the best in people no matter what they said or did to her - and it hurt him deeply to think of all the years she must have spent trying to justify her family's complete rejection of her while she sat out here at the edge of the wizarding world alone.

He knew how it felt to be excised from your family, deserted by your friends, but the difference between them was that Sirius hadn't cared two sickles whether his mother had ever spoken to him again or not. As it happened, she had died shortly after he had been imprisoned, but he had never shed a tear over her. Actually, when he'd heard the news, he'd felt relieved. She had probably died grateful that she'd never been forced to meet her failure of a son again. He had never been as good in her eyes as his brother, Regulus, had been anyway. Now, he was dead too...leaving just Sirius. The last of the great Black's...and he was quite happy about it.

Ariadne had obviously felt very differently about her own family. It also brought a different kind of grief to his heart to think that maybe, all those years ago, she had deeply regretted the loss of her family when she'd chosen him over them. He should have done more to acknowledge that difficult choice, been more understanding, supported her more...anything really that would have shown an empathy with her, a recognition of her loss. It made Sirius feel exceptionally selfish and small, bringing a very uncomfortable choking sensation into his throat.

Perhaps he and Snape hadn't been so different after all.

'Maybe he did,' he said, although it cost him something to hear the words escaping his lips. 'But things will be different for us soon. You can see him again and when you do, you're going to have something over him for the rest of his life. He'll never be able to look down on you again. You were right and he was wrong, Ari.'

She didn't reply, but he felt her arms tightening around his waist and she touched a kiss to his cheek. Perhaps she didn't feel that this was a topic of conversation they could pursue without one of them ending up saying something that they might regret.

'Anyway,' he tried again, realising they weren't going to get any further, 'I thought we were trying to establish whether or not I look menacing enough to be allowed in tonight.'

'Yeah...we were.' She let him go and stood back, looking at him. She had such a grave expression on her face that he was beginning to think that he might just have to try and Apparate into Madame Malkins after closing time and indulge in a little necessary 'borrowing'. But then she broke into a smile; a beautiful, bright smile that lit her eyes and pushed all traces of the sorrow she had felt over her brother back into the catacombs of memory. 'You look just...perfect, Sirius. Just like you used to. If all Dark Wizards looked as good as you in that suit, there'd be no witches left in the Light.'

He grinned like a schoolboy who'd just been given a note excusing him from gym for the rest of the year. It had been a very long time since anyone had told him that he looked good. It was a long time since he'd felt so good. 'Really? You're not just saying that?'

'Let me just...' She tousled her fingers through his hair until his long fringe fell over one side of his face, throwing it into sultry darkness, almost covering one grey eye and making the other seem so much darker, more penetrating...more haunted. '...There,' she finished, 'now it's perfect. You look just like your wanted posters...just like you're still twenty-three.'

'Really? A bit thinner though,' he said to his reflection in the mirror as he turned around to straighten his doublet and pull the cloak tighter around himself.

'Yeah, really. Would you think me terrible if I said that I could really go for the Dark Wizard look?' she said playfully, coming up behind him and slipping her arms around his waist, nuzzling into the back of his neck.

'Well...who could blame you?' he teased, turning around in her embrace to brush a kiss across her lips. 'Let's just hope that it's good enough. What about you?'

'Oh, I don't think that's important. I'll wear what I did the last time - the old hooded cloak and a furtive expression is usually more than enough for a witch. With my reputation, people don't generally spend too much time looking at me anyway. They're probably afraid that I'll hex them; never mind that I probably couldn't hit the side of a barn. I'm more likely to poison them,' she added with a mischievous twinkle, 'but they're not to know that, are they?'

'First rule in the Death Eaters - never let others know your weaknesses or your strengths,' he said, his tone low and heavy, weighted with painful experience, 'keeps them guessing, makes them always wary of you. Wariness leads to fear, fear leads to obedience. Obedience leads to respect. And distance. Never let anyone close.'

She stepped back from him, regarding him as though she had just glimpsed a part of his soul that she had never been privy to before. A mix of surprise, curiosity and just a touch of confusion furrowed her brow.

'That's not like you to be so cold, Sirius. Since when did you adopt such a cynical, mercenary stance?'

A shadow crossed his face, dulling the sharpness from his eyes as painful memories swam to the surface of his consciousness. Memories, experiences...feelings...terrible, dark, desperate feelings... He refused to meet her eyes, watching his fingers as they moved over her arms instead.

'There were plenty of Dark wizards in Azkaban, Ariadne. I heard them, whispering to each other, planning things. Insane things...I saw them sometimes...through the bars when they were brought in. They never let us out of the cells once they'd locked us in...not once...not in twelve years. That same damn room...twelve bloody years spent in a seven by six foot room, listening to the insane whisperings of that filth...' He shuddered a little as he closed his eyes for a second and sighed deeply, trying to push the thoughts away because they were nothing but cancer that would consume him if he let them. 'Just trust me. It's the only way we'll stay alive. And sane.'

'I do trust you,' she said gently, brushing his face with the tips of her fingers, 'like I never would anyone else. I love you.'

'I love you too.'

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her close as he dusted kisses through her hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her, the scent of her, the tender way she ran her hands over his back. If it were just himself he had to worry about, he wouldn't be feeling half as bad as he was - nauseous, headachy and with a ceaseless, restless quivering in his stomach; acute paranoia, fear and anxiety that he hadn't felt since the earliest days in Azkaban. But he kept it all inside, not wanting her to experience the insecurity and uncertainty that he was. There would be no point in that. He needed her to be confident for her own sake...never for his.

He wanted her to trust in him, to believe in him, to feel secure in the knowledge that no matter what happened, he would protect her because he, far more than she, was fully aware of the consequences if they were caught - by one side or the other. She didn't have anything to fear from anyone anyway, not as long as he still had breath in his body. It was far better for her to remain in ignorance than to walk into a situation that they really had little control of, no matter how much planning they did, with fear in her heart. He knew, better than anyone, the cruelty of living under perpetual, incessant fear and he loved her far too much to let her suffer it too. If anything went wrong, he would take the consequences for her without question. But he didn't want her to worry about that either.

'I think we'd better go,' he breathed, letting her go with a lingering, heartfelt kiss, 'before I get too used to this.'

She smiled, looking up at him with every inch of the faith in him that he wanted her to feel, but it still gripped painfully at his heart to know that he was keeping so much from her. But he knew that some things were best left unsaid and he had to keep believing that for both their sakes. After all, it was too late to stop it now.

'Yeah,' she said softly, 'let's get this over with.'