The Everlasting Day

16

Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend. - Saadi

There was about half an hour to spare by the time Sirius and Snape arrived at the cemetery. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky a deep, bloody red as they climbed the slope towards the church. It loomed on the brow of the hill; a dark, malevolent, brooding shadow among the wizened old trees, broken tombstones and undergrowth-covered mausoleums.

They walked as far as the gate before moving along the wall towards the small copse that stood just west of the cemetery grounds. From there, they could see the pathway leading to the church while still remaining hidden from view amongst the undergrowth. Snape sunk down onto the trunk of a collapsed tree, panting after the climb, while Sirius set up wards to protect them around the perimeter of the copse.

'So, is there an antidote to this potion, Snape?' asked Sirius, sitting down beside him.

'It is not a poison, Black. It doesn't require an antidote,' he replied with disdain.

'No, but I mean there has to be a counter potion or charm or something. Or do you just wait for it to wear off?"

Snape's lip curled in a superior smile. 'Potion-making was not your strongest subject, was it? Perhaps you and Potter spent too much time fooling about, inventing jinxes and curses instead of applying yourself more to your studies. If you had, you would know the answer to that question and you would not have to display your ignorance so shamefully.'

'Oh, get down off that high horse of yours, Snape,' Sirius laughed, kicking lazily at the stones in the dirt. 'Lexicon of potion-making you may be, but we both know I could hex you into next week if I wanted to, so I'd stay on the right side of me, if I were you.'

'Typical. You cannot debate a point rationally like any other civilised wizard, you have to resort to threats of violence. Twelve years in Azkaban haven't influenced your arrogance a great deal, I see.'

'What the bloody hell would you know?' Sirius retorted angrily, his button successfully pushed as he slid off the log, anxious to get as far away as he could from Snape lest the temptation to break his already crooked nose be too great to resist. 'You have no idea what it was like in there,' he added quietly, 'or even worse, what it was like to be innocent and in there. But you didn't care about that when you followed Remus to the Shack, did you? No, too anxious to get your greasy hands on that Order of Merlin, weren't you? What did you care if I was innocent or not, as long as I had my soul sucked out in revenge for a boyish prank that happened over twenty years ago? That's justice in your eyes, is it? My God...I can't believe Ariadne is related to you.'

'I don't classify what happened as a boyish prank, Black. Not when someone's life was at risk.'

'I never said I was proud of it,' Sirius admitted, 'but at least I'm enough of a man to admit I made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. For God's sake, everyone thinks they're immortal at that age. I never even thought about your dying...I just wanted Remus to give you a bloody good fright. Teach you a lesson.'

Snape chuckled coldly. 'And that would have been a very good lesson which resulted in the death of the pupil, now wouldn't it, Black?'

'Look,' Sirius spat, furious now, 'if you're determined to carry this idiotic, childish grudge around with you for the rest of your life, then so be it. Nothing I could ever say is going to change anything so why do you even bother arguing with me about it?'

'I...' he began, but then he seemed to lose his train of thought. He blinked and looked away at some point beyond the trees. 'I don't know...' he murmured, 'because no, there isn't anything you could say.'

'And the fact that I'm trying to save your life now doesn't count for anything, does it? What reason will you find for hating me then?'

'I'm sure I'll think of something.'

Sirius folded his arms across his chest and turned his back on Snape, trying desperately to control the urge to send every curse he had ever learned flying across the glen towards him.

'And to think I actually felt sorry for you,' he murmured to himself through clenched teeth. 'Stubborn, arrogant...'

'What?'

Sirius resolutely ignored him.

'I asked you a question, Black. What did you just say?'

'What difference does it make? I didn't think anything I said could possibly cut through all that greasy hair of yours to penetrate your thick skull.'

'You said you felt sorry for me,' he said, ignoring the insult. 'Why?'

'Ah,' Sirius said triumphantly, turning to face him, 'so you do listen after all, do you? Selective hearing, eh, Severus? Wonderful thing to possess.'

'Answer me!' he yelled, rising from the log and grabbing Sirius by the lapels of his cloak.

Caught unaware by Snape's sudden and unexpected explosion of anger, Sirius stumbled backwards against the trunk of a tree, Snape's venom filled eyes mere inches from his.

'Get your hands off me right now,' Sirius growled dangerously, 'I'm warning you...'

Snape seemed to recover himself, blinking rapidly as though he were waking from a trance. He released Sirius and stepped back, reaching out blindly for the support of the fallen log as he sat back down. His breathing seemed laboured and beads of perspiration had popped out along his pale brow.

Sirius sighed as he straightened his cloak and drifted back towards the log, hesitantly sitting down again.

'You know, don't you?' Snape said in a tired, defeated voice.

Sirius closed his eyes, covering his face with his hand. 'Yes,' he admitted softly, 'but I don't really feel sorry for you, Severus. I don't think you need that. I just...understand.'

Snape nodded dully, but there was a vague, sad smile playing at the corners of his thin lips. 'I suppose I'm the foolish one for expecting her to keep it from you.'

'Don't blame Ariadne. It wasn't her fault. I know her too well and I knew it wasn't like her to speak to Remus the way she did. I asked her about it and she told me that I shouldn't be so hard on you because you'd had a bad time too, then I wanted to know why. She didn't want to tell me, I had to practically drag it out of her, but she trusts me. She knows I would never tell a soul if she asked me not to.'

He shook his head as though trying to dispel a memory. 'I don't blame her. The truth is that I don't even blame you... Anyway...it doesn't matter now.'

'I'm very sorry about Medea, Severus,' he sighed sincerely.

'Yes...so am I... It seems as though the Dark Lord has caused us both suffering...in our own ways.'

'Yeah...I suppose you could put it that way,' Sirius said darkly, his eyes dropping back to the stones at his feet. He teased them from the compacted earth with his tip of his boot...carefully burrowing away...pulling them free before kicking them across the ground.

'It...it couldn't have been...easy for you,' Snape said grudgingly, but sincerely, 'being innocent...being in a place like that...'

'No...' Sirius kicked away one last stone as he sighed deeply and folded his arms across his chest. 'But that part of my life is over...I have Ariadne back and a chance to be with Harry and that's all that matters to me now.'

Snape looked over at him, taking in his cleaner image as well as the sunken, slightly tired look Azkaban had stained him with. Nevertheless, his eyes had a brightness about them now that hadn't been there that night at the Shack. He didn't seem frightened or anxious anymore, the terror of the Dementors now little more than a painful memory. Something else had replaced the ghosts that had haunted him then and even Snape was forced to acknowledge it.

'You love her very much, don't you?'

Sirius smiled. 'Yes. Of course I do. She means the world to me, she always has.'

'And you started all this for her?'

'For her and Harry, yes. Although I didn't really...'

'Start it,' Snape interrupted. 'Yes I know. She did. She always did let her heart rule her head.'

'That's not a failing, Severus,' Sirius replied defensively. 'I think many of the problems between the two of you started because you always saw her strengths as weaknesses.'

'Maybe,' Snape admitted quietly, 'but my primary concern was always to protect her. As, indeed, was my parents'. They had their reasons for objecting to your...elopement. I'm sure you understand them now...in light of...'

'Yes...perhaps I do,' Sirius sighed dejectedly. 'One of the things I had time to think about in Azkaban was my behaviour back then. I know now that I shouldn't have tried so hard to pull her away from her family, but the truth of it is that she felt stifled and inadequate at home - she was desperate to break away and I gave her what she was looking for at the time. But not even I could keep her away from doing what she really wanted to do, Severus. She left me...I let her go because I love her...it's only by chance that we ever even met up again. She came back to me because I never tried to tell her what she should be doing or made her feel as though she wasn't good enough. But she missed you...she often talked about you...her regrets that things had turned out the way they had.'

Sirius sighed again, rubbing his hands over his face and pushing them through his hair. 'But a lot of time has passed since then...we were just kids...thought we knew everything there was to know. We're all different people now. I'm glad that you're both speaking again. It really did upset her to believe that she might have lost you, and her parents. I want you to know that I never tried to keep her away from you, Severus. Never. I would never have wanted to see her hurt the way she has been, and I know that I'm just as responsible for that as anyone.'

Snape nodded thoughtfully. 'Perhaps. But I cannot deny that my own problems at that time blinded me to hers. We are all of us wise men in hindsight, Sirius.'

He raised an eyebrow at Snape's use of his first name, but Snape didn't see him. Perhaps they really were making progress here after all, but Sirius knew better than to pass comment on it.

'She loves you a great deal as well,' Snape added unexpectedly. 'I am glad that she has found happiness again. I've come to understand what a rare thing that is. I cannot resent her for it, or try to keep her from it any longer. Twelve years apart is, I think, enough of a test for anyone. I don't think that you desire or need my blessing, Sirius, but you have it nonetheless.'

For quite possibly the first time in his life, Sirius was completely lost for words. Snape couldn't have surprised him more if he'd transfigured himself into a teapot. No one could know how big a leap he had just taken as Sirius did, except maybe Ariadne herself. He respected Snape more in that moment than he believed he ever had or ever would again.

'Thank you,' he managed to stutter as he extended his hand in - not quite friendship - but acknowledgement of a truce. Snape accepted the proffered handshake gracefully and even gave a faint flicker of a smile.

'Well then,' said Snape, 'time is against us. Perhaps I should take this potion now.'

'Yeah...there's...' Sirius glanced up at the silver stars beginning to shine in the inky-blue sky, 'ten minutes before the meeting. Is that enough?'

'More than sufficient,' he replied, uncorking the phial. A light lilac tendril of smoke curled upward from it, carrying a vague scent of lavender with it as it dissipated away. He switched the bottle to his left hand and reached into the folds of his robes for another identical phial containing more purplish liquid. He looked at it for a moment before handing it to Sirius. 'This is the antidote, should you need it.'

'Ah, wasn't such a silly question after all then, was it?' Sirius grinned impishly as he took the phial.

'Be quiet now, Sirius, and listen. Two drops will be sufficient - there is a dropper inside the phial. No more or else I won't be able to sleep for a week. Do you understand?'

'No, could you say it again a bit slower?'

'Sirius...' Snape sighed.

'Yeah...yeah...I was only joking,' Sirius grinned, nudging him with an elbow in the ribs. 'Lighten up, Severus. You take life far too seriously, you know.'

'Perhaps it is just as well that one of us has our feet on terra firma anyway,' Snape muttered patiently. 'They never normally concern themselves with disposal of remains afterwards...once their work is finished...so as soon as it becomes safe to do so, you should administer the antidote.'

'Yeah, okay. Two drops. You've got you wand though, haven't you?'

'I have. And you have the sphere Professor Dumbledore gave you?'

Sirius tapped the pocket of his robes. 'Yes, right here.'

'Good. Then I suppose we had better get started. Good luck, Sirius.'

'Yeah...you too, Severus.'

Snape seemed a little anxious as he looked down at the phial, still emanating purplish fumes. But he sighed, bracing himself, put the phial to his lips and drank the entire contents. He grimaced at the last drop as though he'd just swallowed some particularly strong Firewhisky and threw the phial to the ground. Without warning, he began to groan and doubled up, clutching at his stomach and Sirius suddenly felt as though his own stomach had just dropped down into his feet.

'Are you all right? Is it supposed to do this?' he demanded anxiously.

Speech was obviously beyond him now, but Snape managed to nod his head as he groped out to the log beside him for support as the potion took its effect. His dark eyes seemed to roll back in his head until they were almost completely white, like frosted marbles in his pale face as he lay down across the tree, sucked in a few more painful, rattling breaths then slowly, he closed his eyes. His body relaxed as the potion did its work and he slumped from the log onto the stony, moss-covered soil.

Sirius had never seen this potion in action before and he dearly hoped that he would never have to again. Now he understood where the name 'Living Death' came from. He shivered as knelt down beside Snape to make sure he was all right, checking his pulse and breathing. Both were imperceptible...even his normally pallid complexion was whitening to the colour of day-old newspaper. To all intents and purposes, Snape really did appear to be dead.

'I really hope you and Ari knew what you were doing,' Sirius muttered to himself, beginning to feel a knot of tension tightening in his stomach and suddenly feeling very alone. He really hoped that the aurors Dumbledore had promised him weren't too far away.

He glanced up at the stars again - five minutes late. But that wasn't a problem - it would be more in line with his story anyway. 'Mobilicorpus,' he muttered, waving his wand over Snape's body and instantly it floated upright, Snape's head lolling lifelessly on his shoulders.

Sirius closed his eyes, sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and left the copse to move back along the wall to the cemetery, Snape bobbing along after him like a kite attached to invisible strings. It probably would have been an amusing sight if Sirius hadn't felt as though he'd just swallowed the contents of a slop-bucket.

He approached the cemetery and pushed his way through the rusting gate as the blackness around him grew ever more impenetrable while dull, greyish clouds skittered across the waning moon. Even the stars seemed to feel a certain foreboding and felt no inclination to fight against the mists beginning to drown them as they slowly began to wink out...as though a Dementor was approaching...moving stealthily and silently on the night air...touching life and destroying it as it passed.

Sirius swallowed thickly and pushed the image and the feelings that accompanied it away. His hands were beginning to shake, his mouth was dry, his stomach felt as though a clawed fist was gripped around it and he wished more than anything that he was back in the cottage with Ariadne...and Buckbeak...where he'd had his first taste of happiness in more than twelve years. Even though Snape was with him; even though he knew (hoped) that the Ministry aurors were out there somewhere in the darkness, melding with the shadows hunched over the cracked and broken tombstones, he felt terribly, desperately alone in the preternatural silence.

At last, he arrived at the entrance of the church and pushed straight through the wooden doors, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer to give his growing reservations the chance to win over his sensibilities.

The porch was exactly how it had been before - the broken windows charmed to keep out the chill of the dying summer evening and the candles floating in mid air to give a vaguely sickening orange glow. Guiding Snape through the doorway and into the porch before closing the outer door, he finally entered the church.

The fire was again burning in the grate; the Death Eaters arranged in the same semi-circular formation around it. Lucius Malfoy stood beside the mantle whispering in what seemed to be a somewhat harried manner to Jacob Goyle. They all stopped when they eventually noticed Sirius standing there, watching them.

'Ah, Black...so good of you to decide to grace us with your presence,' Malfoy said sardonically, motioning with his hand for Goyle to sit back down. 'I was under the impression that you requested the meeting be set for ten p.m, not ten past.'

'You do know, Malfoy, that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, don't you?' Sirius retorted.

Malfoy raised a haughty eyebrow. 'Well you would know all about that, I am sure.'

The other Death Eaters chuckled as Malfoy glanced at them, as though they were sharing a joke between themselves. Sirius dearly wished that their laughter hadn't sent such a shiver of foreboding along the length of his spine.

'Now,' Malfoy continued, strolling across the room towards Sirius, his silver-topped cane tapping rhythmically on the floor, 'we are here for a very specific reason tonight. You told us that you would be delivering the traitor. Where is he, Black?'

Sirius moved his wand in a motion as though he were cracking a whip and slowly, the unconscious Snape drifted in from the porchway, moved slowly across the floor and came to rest about a yard or so from Malfoy.

A dull murmur went around the room and a few of the Death Eaters even began to rise from the chairs, but Malfoy waved them quiet.

'He is...'

'Dead,' Sirius said flatly, glaring directly into Malfoy's eyes as though daring him to contradict him.

Instead of anger, shock or even disappointment drifting over Malfoy's thin, angular face, he smiled. A slow, creeping smile; like blood seeping from a wound.

'Really?' he drawled, flicking his gaze over Snape before settling it again on Sirius. 'And just how did that happen, Black, when you were specifically asked to bring him here to us alive?'

'Obviously I overestimated his trust in me. He consented to come here because he believed his sister to be in danger and...'

'And where is Ariadne?' Malfoy asked, cutting him off.

Sirius baulked a little at the question, not expecting him to ask at such an early point during the conversation. A very uncomfortable feeling was prickling along his spine and settling in the pit of his stomach; a bead of perspiration ran over the small of his back.

'We both thought it best that she make herself scarce for a while otherwise there was a risk that someone might have seen her and told Snape that she wasn't in danger at all - for my lie to be believable, he would have to think she was being held by you.'

'That didn't really answer my question now, did it, Black?' Malfoy smirked.

'It was an answer, Malfoy,' Sirius spat back, his patience waning. He had a terrible feeling that something here was wrong. Somehow, he had the impression that he didn't have the upper hand. 'Whether or not it suited you is your problem.'

'Mmm,' Malfoy smiled, 'is that so? Well, am I to understand that your...lover,' he spat the word as though is were the worst blasphemy he had ever heard in his life, 'will not be attending this meeting?'

Sirius' eyes narrowed in the surge of anger that welled up inside him - he really didn't like the tone in Malfoy's voice. 'I've answered you once, Malfoy. Don't make me answer again. I've brought what you wanted, I've done as you asked. I'm not about to waste the entire night explaining how I did it. The fact remains that Snape here thought he would try to put one over on me as we walked up here and I was quicker than him. I killed him before he killed me and I would do exactly the same to any other idiot who would dare to think that they can get the better of me.'

'And it didn't matter to you that the Dark Lord wanted him questioned first? You didn't think to stun him or otherwise incapacitate him?'

'I'm sure that you would be thinking reasonably too if your life was in danger,' Sirius replied dryly. 'I did what I had to do.'

'Yes,' Malfoy drawled nastily, his lip curling in a sick mockery of a smile. He raised his hand that seemed to be a pre-arranged signal because Jacob Goyle suddenly rose from his fluffy armchair and walked towards the back of the church where, behind the altar, a doorway led down into the crypt. 'And now I must do what I have to.'

Almost on instinct, Sirius slipped his hand beneath his robes to grasp the silver sphere that Dumbledore had given him. He didn't squeeze it just yet, but he felt better to have it in his hand.

A few seconds later, Goyle re-emerged from the crypt, dragging with him a young, dark haired girl. She must have been about fifteen, perhaps sixteen years old - she certainly appeared to be about the same age as Harry, but then Sirius knew that he wasn't the best person to judge. Her skin was very pale although her cheeks were rosy from her struggle with Goyle who was grasping her by the collar of her black school blazer. Sirius didn't recognise the uniform she wore which consisted of a white shirt, a green pleated skirt that was far too short to ever have been allowed anywhere near Hogwarts and a silver and green striped tie which was looped loosely around her neck and fastened in an overlarge knot halfway down her chest instead of at the nape of her neck where it should have been. As she yelled and kicked at Goyle, demanding to be let go, Sirius couldn't help but notice the silver stud piercing her tongue, the matching silver bars sticking through her ears, an amethyst stud glinting in her nose and a small ring through her lower lip. He wondered if she might have mistaken her face for a pin cushion.

'You bloody stupid lump, let go of me!' she was screaming now, hitting out at every part of Goyle's anatomy that she could reach. 'I swear to God, I'm going to break your bloody nose if you don't let me go right now!'

Goyle was a huge, strong man, but even he was sweating with the effort of trying to restrain this girl, whoever she was.

Malfoy was laughing as he met them halfway and grabbed the girl's chin, twisting her face upwards to make her look at him.

'Yes...I can see now...so much like your father. And your mother...in more ways than one,' he added with a cruel, knowing laugh that the girl brought to an abrupt end by kicking out sharply, her desert-booted foot connecting hard with Malfoy's shin. The smile instantly vanished to be replaced with a sneer as he raised his arm and hit her hard across the face with the back of his hand.

The girl's head snapped to one side with the blow, but she quickly turned back to Malfoy and spat at him. 'You try that again when your goon isn't holding back, you bloody coward.'

Malfoy began to chuckle again as he wiped his cheek. 'My, my...quite the feisty one, aren't we? It's a wonder he managed to hide you from us for as long as he did.' He pulled his wand out from the end of his walking cane and pointed it straight at the girl. 'Nevertheless, you are irritating me. Crucio,' he said, almost lazily.

The girl screamed as she collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony, her eyes screwed tightly closed, her fists balled against the side of her face and her knees drawn up to her chest. Her pitchy, whining screams were unbearable to listen to as Malfoy kept his wand pointed at her, still grinning as though he were a proud parent watching their child in a Christmas play. The other Death Eaters had sat up a little in their armchairs and were watching the scene with equal mixes of excitement and pleasure.

Sirius couldn't believe or understand anything about the display he had just witnessed, and was still witnessing, all of which had taken place within just a few seconds. Previously frozen in shock and horror as he'd watched Malfoy hit her, he quickly realised that he was the only one in the room who could stop this girl's suffering. He brought his wand to bear on Malfoy, Snape dropping like a lead weight to the floor as the enchantments holding him steady were broken.

'Stop it, Malfoy!' Sirius screamed furiously. 'What the hell is wrong with you? Stop it, I said! Now!'

Malfoy's wand flicked upward to the ceiling and the girl's screams stopped. Instead, she just lay on the floor, twitching and shivering convulsively, her cheeks glistening with tears.

'You...you're sick, Malfoy...you evil, twisted, sick, vicious, disgusting excuse for a human being,' Sirius snarled, shaking with fury. 'A child? Is this how you get your kicks these days? Does it make you feel powerful, choosing a child...and a Muggle child at that...to satisfy your thirst for control? How about something more challenging, you pathetic bloody coward...try that one on me. Go on...I dare you.'

But Malfoy just continued to smile infuriatingly at him, not even bothering to raise his wand.

'This isn't a Muggle child,' he chuckled, turning to the other Death Eaters. 'He thinks this is just a Muggle child...he comes in here, presuming to challenge me, thinking that he knows everything but actually knowing nothing...less than nothing.'

A low hum of laughter emanated from the other Death Eaters and their eyes all seemed to be trained on Sirius as thought they were waiting with barely contained glee for his next ignorant pronouncement.

Sirius hesitated no longer. This was escalating beyond his control and something more was happening here than he could understand. He squeezed the silver sphere and felt it begin to quietly vibrate and grow warm in his hand, even through the leather gloves. He kept his wand arm extended straight out in front of him, the wand tip flicking back and forth between Goyle and Malfoy.

'Wake him up, Sirius.'

'I don't know what the hell you're talking about,' Sirius replied, his cold fury lending his voice new strength to be able to carry the lie.

'Snape isn't dead. You didn't kill him. You haven't got the guts to kill anyone. I don't know how you've done it...although I could probably take a few guesses...but Snape isn't dead. Wake him up, Sirius. He so enjoyed it when we tortured and executed his traitorous wife, I should hate to deprive him of the pleasure of seeing the death of his pathetic little Squib daughter too.'

Sirius felt as though he'd just been stabbed by a shard of ice straight through his stomach.

'His...his what?'

The girl had managed to get up onto all fours and was now getting shakily to her feet until Goyle helped her along by pulling her up sharply by her short, blonde, spiky hair. She let out a sharp yelp, but the taste of the Cruciatus curse seemed to have made her reluctant to put up much of a fight again.

'Not pleasant, is it, Erytheia?' said Malfoy to the girl who was dragging the back of her hand across her running nose. 'You're not going to make me do that again, are you?'

The girl said nothing, but she did meet Malfoy's eyes defiantly, her chin held high.

'This man, his name is Sirius,' Malfoy told her coolly, 'Sirius Black. He tells me that he's murdered your father, Erytheia. What is left of him, apparently, is that pile of black robes there.'

Erytheia's dark eyes rested briefly on Sirius before travelling down to Snape's prostrate body on the floor. It was difficult to tell who was actually laying there from where the girl was standing - Snape's long hair had fallen across his face.

Utterly dumbstruck, Sirius could do little more than gaze open mouthed as the girl, Erytheia...whoever she was... pulled easily away from Goyle now and took the few shaky, hesitant steps to where Snape lay. She fell to her knees, leaning over Snape's body and carefully smoothed back his hair from his face.

She gasped, shuddered and fell backwards against the wall when Snape's face was revealed, letting out a heart-rending wail of agony as new tears were born in her eyes. 'Daddy?' she moaned, her breathing laboured and heavy with sobs as she extended her hand to touch his face. 'No...Dad...you...you can't...'

Suddenly, her gaze flew from Snape's face to Sirius', only now, instead of grief, hatred and anger flared in her huge, tear-filled eyes and she flew to her feet, hurling herself at Sirius with every ounce of strength she possessed and a scream that was almost primitive in its demand for blood.

Sirius managed to dodge her, but only just, and he whirled around to face her just as she was coming about to charge at him again.

'Wait!' he yelled desperately, lowering his wand. 'Erytheia...Erytheia Snape, right? You're...you're Severus' daughter?'

'You killed him! You killed my father!' she screamed, tears now streaming down her face. 'What did he ever do to you? You sickos...he told me about you...about all of you...I'm going to kill you! Do you hear me? I'll kill you!' She flew for him again and he sidestepped her again, but he wasn't quite as quick as last time and her nails ripped painfully across the side of his face.

'Erytheia, listen to me!' Sirius said desperately, wondering how much longer it would be before the bloody aurors realised that he was in trouble. 'It's...it wasn't like that! If you'll just listen to me for a second...please...'

Malfoy was almost doubled over with laughter. The other Death Eaters, Narcissa included, were now gathering behind Malfoy.

Erytheia wiped her nose with the back of her hand before reaching into the inside pocket of her blazer and pulling out a knife. She flicked it open to reveal a small blade, about four inches or so long.

'He told me that there were people like you...that you'd try to hurt him...or me...that's why I started carrying this,' she said, her voice breaking apart like ice floes. 'Maybe I can't do magic, but I can still use this. I suppose wizards still bleed when you cut them, huh?' She tried to lunge at Sirius again, but he was far too quick and far too experienced for her to ever be able to cause him any real damage with the knife.

'Erytheia...please listen to me. I don't want to have to use magic against you, but I will if you don't calm down and listen to me.'

She lunged at him again, her fringe now plastered to her forehead with perspiration, her cheeks glowing with the exertion. Tears were still flowing from her eyes, but they were rising from frustration and anger now as well as grief.

'Impedimenta!' Sirius yelled at her. A burst of light shot from the end of his wand and knocked her off her feet, sending her flying back against the wall and the knife skittering across the floor. She hit the wall harder than Sirius had intended and she looked stunned as she slid to the floor, her eyes rolling back in her head.

The Death Eaters roared with laughter, Narcissa in particular seemed to be enjoying herself. She was wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.

Sirius rushed to Erytheia's side and crouched down beside her. She was sitting against the wall where she'd fallen, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her folded legs.

'Erytheia? I'm so sorry...are you all right?'

'Get away from me,' she spat, glaring at Sirius with the deepest loathing in her shimmering eyes. 'You killed my father...you...you filth...you low-life bastard...with your stupid bloody magic...thinking you're so bloody invincible...didn't even have the guts to do it with your hands...you coward...you filthy, disgusting coward...'

'Erytheia...' Sirius smiled, reaching out tentatively to push her fringe away from her eyes, but she recoiled from him almost convulsively.

'Don't you dare touch me,' she sobbed.

'Please,' he kept trying, lowering his voice to a whisper, very aware of the Death Eaters watching him, 'listen to me...he's not dead. It's magic, Erytheia. I'm trying to help your father. I'm trying to help you. Please believe me. I can't do it on my own.'

'That's enough, Black,' Malfoy said suddenly, stepping forward with his wand raised. 'I'm bored with you all now. Wake him up.'

Sirius ignored him, keeping his back to him as he smiled reassuringly at Erytheia. He couldn't say anything more without giving himself away, but he hoped desperately that he had said enough for her to believe him.

Her gaze flickered over Malfoy briefly before returning to Sirius. She just stared at him, probably trying to work out which one of them she hated the most. Sirius understood that she couldn't respond to him even if she was beginning to believe him because she was facing Malfoy, but he was sure he did see something changing slightly in her eyes. They didn't seem to be so wide and hate-filled somehow...

'WAKE HIM UP!'

'Are you deaf as well as stupid, Malfoy?' Sirius yelled back, spinning around, his own wand raised. 'He IS dead! I killed him myself! And if you don't start behaving as though you deserve the title of second to the Dark Lord then I might just have to do the same to you!'

'Was that a challenge, Black?' Malfoy said with relish, excitement burning in his wide grey eyes.

'Yes,' Sirius said finally, triumphantly, 'I suppose it was. But Snape's daughter here believes I'm a coward for using magic to do a man's job, Lucius. I'm going to prove to her that a coward is the very last thing that Sirius Black is. I don't need magic. Neither do you. Give your wand to Narcissa.

Uncertainty tainted the edge from Malfoy's smile as he glanced across at his wife. She nodded. He turned back to Sirius.

'Very well, Black. If that's how you want to play it. I'll kill you with my bare hands. I don't need magic to do it.'

He handed his wand to Narcissa and started to untie the tassle holding his cloak around his shoulders.

Sirius knew that he would be able to use Malfoy's supreme arrogance and pride against him eventually. While Malfoy's back was turned to them, Sirius removed his own cloak and gloves and tossed them on the floor beside Erytheia. Pretending to be taking his time undoing the buttons on his cuffs, rolling back his sleeves and unbuttoning his collar, he lowered his voice to a whisper again and with his lips barely moving, spoke to her.

'In the pocket, Erytheia. The phial. Two drops on his lips. Don't let them see you. Understand?'

She closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. Yes. 'That's my girl,' he said. He smiled warmly and winked at her before turning back to Malfoy, who seemed to be ready now too.

'If one of you interferes with this,' said Malfoy, addressing the Death Eaters, 'I will kill that person and their entire family. Is that clear?'

The group around them nodded, murmuring a low chorus of assent.

Sirius walked slowly up to Malfoy and extended his hand. 'To the death, Malfoy.'

He accepted the handshake, his eyes never wavering from Sirius' as he smiled. 'To the death.'