Three O'clock in the Morning

Three O'clock in the Morning

In the real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Enjoy the Interval

There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. - George Santayana

"Get your lazy arse out there right now, Sirius!" Lucius Malfoy snapped.

Sirius, who had been living at a small, rented apartment near the funeral home since his unseemly departure from his flat and later confrontation with Severus, frowned. He was sitting on the edge of his lumpy bed with an overnight bag settled at his feet. It had been a little more than a week since the night he finally told Lily the truth and sent Severus to the hospital. He had spent most of his free time skulking around the apartment or trying to convince his wife that he was not really lying to her. Most of his skulking was Severus related; Sirius could not stop worrying about his friend and feeling guilty that it was his magic that had so damaged Harry's favorite teacher. Of course, his relatives, Regulus and Lucius mostly, thought he and Lily were merely having a terrible row.

"But-"

Lucius cut him off in mid-sentence. "No exceptions or addendums, Sirius. We do this every year and don't think we won't this year, just because you and Lily are fighting. If anything, it might help the two of you to get away from each other a little bit. This town is small enough that the both of you are tripping over each other, even when you are pointedly ignoring each other."

Sirius scowled at his cousin. He was not just worried about Lily. He wanted to be there when Severus left the hospital, so that he could apologize for his terrible behavior. He only hoped he could still repair their friendship.

Flipping his hair in a slightly feminine manner, Lucius scowled back and looked very cross. "Your brother, my son, and your son are already waiting for us at the train station. All you need to do is pick up your bag and walk there with me. And I know that it isn't the weight of the bag that's keeping you here."

"But-"

"No," Lucius interrupted with a wave of his pale hand. "Lily will still be here when you get back. As will Remus and Peter. Maybe your friend, Dr. Snape, will be recuperating by then as well. The world won't end because you decided to take a much needed holiday, Sirius."

With a heavy, heartfelt sigh, Sirius rose to his feet, picked up the black bag, and followed Lucius out the door and into the street.

Surprisingly, Lucius had been talking to Sirius a great deal since his 'fight' with Lily. He encouraged Sirius to keep in touch with Harry and still go to counseling sessions with Lily and Gita, even though it was Sirius's first instinct to mope about his cramped apartment and eat Chinese takeaway. Apparently, he and Narcissa had had some trouble a few years back, but had patched things up fairly quickly. Lucius, of course, had been miserable throughout and did not want his wife's cousin to go through the same ordeal.

As he sat on the train with his cousin and brother, as Draco and Harry had insisted they have a car of their own, Sirius could not believe he was actually doing this. Sirius was torn half way between laughing and cry at the same time. He, the first Gryffindor Black and defender of the Light, was on a train to Wales with Regulus, his Dark brother, and Lucius Malfoy, infamous Death Eater and torturer of innocent. To top it all off, he had brought Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, along for the ride so that the boy could spend time with Draco Malfoy, Junior Death Eater. To think, if he had not participated in that foolhardy battle, he would be hiding in a crumbling mansion while Harry fought his own demons, his brother lay cold in his grave, and his cousin generally went about trying to be the best sycophant he could be. No, he thought to himself, there is no irony in this situation, none at all.

Lounging on his seat as though he owned the place, Regulus looked more relaxed than he had in weeks. "So, Lucius, are you coming fishing with us this year or not?"

The blond, who was still looking reminiscent of a homosexual lumberjack, frowned at his dark haired cousin. "Of course, I'm not going to fish!"

Sirius sat up, waking from the doze in which he had been resting since before they crossed out of Scotland. "Why won't you fish?"

Scowling amiably, Lucius explained. He, being the world-loving man that he was, felt that the manner in which Regulus and Sirius caught, manhandled, and killed the fish was inhumane and cruel. When Sirius pointed out that the fish were not human at all, Lucius laughed and told him he was beating a dead horse. They went through this every year and every year the answer was the same: No, Lucius would not go fishing.

Sirius snorted at the reply, amused by his blond cousin. He had never met a man who cared so much for small animals before knowing this Lucius Malfoy. Eventually, Regulus picked up a book and Lucius went off to look after the boys, so Sirius rearranged his jacket and settled in for a nap

Sirius, carrying his overnight bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other, stared open-mouthed at the cottage to which he had been led. No Black or Malfoy, in his world, would have been caught dead in this place.

It was, indeed, for all intents and purposes, a cottage. It was on the small and older side, obviously rented for the spare few days the Black family needed it. Sirius would not call it run-down, by any means, but it did not have the understated elegance of his mother's farm or his and Regulus's respective flats. In a word, the place was bucolic, a small cottage by the edge of a small lake, surrounded by grass and a quiet road. Sirius wondered how on Earth they found it in the middle of Wales.

"Come on, Sirius," Harry cried, hefting his own bag over his shoulder. "It's getting cold out here."

Harry had an obvious point. It was December and, while it was warmer in Wales than it was in Scotland, it was still cold. The grass around the cottage was a gray-green, found when the frost forms at night, but no snow has fallen. The lake was a dark blue that hinted at hidden depths and icy water.

The inside of the cottage was warm and inviting. Lucius lit a fire in the hearth in the sitting room, while Regulus and Sirius hauled the luggage into the two small bedrooms. Harry and Draco were sharing a yellow room with a view of the lake, while the older men had a red room overlooking the garden.

Quickly, the place looked quite lived-in, and the men were eating a light dinner in front of the fireplace. Sirius greatly enjoyed the familiar warmth and light and, for the first time in a week, eagerly joined in the conversation. As the night grew older, Draco pulled a pack of cards out of nowhere and the five men began a few friendly rounds of poker.

Finally, Regulus sent the boys to bed, promising to look into renting a boat to go fishing the next day. Sirius shivered from his spot on the couch as Harry and Draco slunk back to their room and Lucius tossed him a sweater.

"It gets cold here at night," Lucius explained. "And I noticed that you didn't exactly pack well for the trip."

Sirius shrugged and watched Regulus bank the fire. "I wasn't really thinking about it," he replied honestly.

"What happened between you and Lily, anyway?" Regulus asked amiably. "I know you two were having a few problems and that this is none of my business, but I never expected you to leave her."

"She told you I left her?" Sirius exclaimed. "She kicked me out of the flat!"

Regulus's left eyebrow cocked at that statement. "Truly? Who would have thought it?"

His brother only shrugged again.

"As delightful as familial secrets are," Lucius drawled, "we should be following our sons to bed. You know they'll wake us bright and early tomorrow morning and the last thing you want is to miss your morning tea."

The three men retired to their room, Lucius and Sirius to two narrow beds and Regulus on a lumpy futon.

Sirius pulled his borrowed, geometrically patterned sweater around his shoulders. Lucius had not been lying, the morning was quite cold. Draco and Harry were sitting on the end of the dock, wrapped warmly in their winter jackets, and passing a thermos of tea back and forth. Lucius was indoors, still, preparing a hot breakfast for when Regulus returned with news on the boat.

It was odd, standing in the garden in Wales, waiting for his brother. There were still times that he would wake up in the morning, forgetting that he was in a different world. That morning, for instance, Regulus had woken him with a gentle punch to the shoulder. Sirius's instinctive reaction was to reach for his wand and hex the intruder. His brother and Lucius had stared at him in shock, as he scrambled about, half asleep, and looked for his wand.

Sirius, then, was naturally surprised when Harry popped up at his elbow. Turning, he could see Draco heading into the cottage, no doubt to help his father. Or annoy his father, depending upon his mood. You never could tell with Draco.

"Sirius?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Smiling despite the cold, Sirius looked down at his stepson. He had been disappointed to miss Harry during the first few days of his winter holidays. "Yeah, Harry?"

"Why's Mum so mad at you?" The messy-haired boy refused to make eye contact with his stepfather.

Sirius sighed. "You know how I told you and Severus my story?"

Harry nodded vigorously. "That you went to prison, but escaped and tried to save me?"

"Yeah, that one." Sirius scuffed his foot in the dirt, making 'x' shaped patterns on the frost. "Well, I told your mother."

"Oh," Harry replied in a quiet tone.

"Yes, oh."

"She didn't believe you?"

"No."

"Not even after you showed her some magic?"

"I didn't get a chance to show her any magic. I couldn't even grab my wand, Harry." Sirius ruffled his godson's hair. "Even if things don't work out with me and your mum, Harry, I still want to be your stepfather and godfather."

Harry grinned up at him, still several inches shorter than his godfather. "I know. That's why I grabbed this before Uncle Regulus and I left." He pulled a narrow box out of his coat pocket.

Sirius grabbed the box and opened it with a gasp. Inside the humble cardboard exterior lay his silvery wand. He pulled Harry into a bear hug. "Thank you so much, Harry. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I just remembered how anxious you get when you don't have it with you," Harry explained. The teenager could not keep from grinning; he was obviously quite proud of helping his stepfather. "And I knew you kept it in the bedside table. It wasn't hard to grab it while Mum was out last week."

"Thank you," Sirius repeated sincerely.

"Look!" Harry cried. "Uncle Regulus is back. Maybe we can go fishing today after all."

Sirius smiled as Regulus strolled back down the path, his hands deep in his jacket pockets. Harry was right, he felt infinitely better knowing that his wand was safely tucked up his sleeve. With the smell of frying eggs coming from the kitchen, Harry at his side, and the freedom to stand in the garden, all seemed quite right with the world.

"Uncle Regulus, did you get the boat?"

Regulus smiled indulgently at Harry. "Yeah. We're renting it for the afternoon, from one to three. Why don't you go tell Draco?"

As Harry took off to find his cousin, Regulus turned to his brother. "So are you ready to go fishing?"

"Er... yes?" Sirius replied. He had never been fishing in his life. Wizards did not fish, not unless they were nearly squibs or somehow caught without their magic. As a child, he had been taught in no uncertain terms that Blacks did not fish.

"You don't sound particularly confident, Sirius."

The wizard did not know what to say to that.

"Look, I just want things to go well. You know how much Harry and Draco look forward to this trip and Harry is excited to be spending time with you. He's old enough to have realized that you're still going to be there for him, now, but he really needs you."

"I know."

"I don't think you do," Regulus reprimanded. "Something in you changed this summer and you became a real father to Harry. Even if you're having a row with Lily, he needs a father. That's your job."

"Regulus, I know. Now let's get inside before we freeze and the Malfoys eat all of our eggs."

Sirius sat at the end of the narrow boat, which swayed from side to side on the ice cold lake, wondering why he had agreed to go fishing when he could not even swim. Harry, Regulus, and Draco seemed to be having the time of their life, even if they had yet to catch a single fish. The four men were cocooned in heavy winter clothing to shield them from the wind, but Sirius's nose and ears had long since gone numb.

"Siri," Regulus called from the other end of the boat. "You're looking a little green around the gills. Maybe you shouldn't have had all of Lucius's food?"

The Animagus did not have the heart to tell his brother that he had never been on a boat before that day, the magical Hogwarts boats aside, and that he was becoming terribly motion sick. He managed a garbled moan and the others took that as an affirmative.

"Don't you want to fish, Sirius?" Draco asked innocently. "You might feel better if you move toward the back of the boat, anyway."

Sirius shook his head in the negative. He would have to climb around the boys if he wanted to find his fishing pole and Sirius was fairly certain that he would be sick if he tried. He did not want to ruin everyone's day by being sick on Harry or Draco.

"Do stop sulking about your friend, and have a good time," Regulus ordered. "You aren't helping anyone by hiding in the bow. Draco's right, anyway, sitting up there always did make you nauseous."

Again, Sirius shook his head.

Harry kept his habitual silence, knowing full well that nothing could persuade Sirius out of doing something he wanted to do. The best thing, in Harry's mind, was to keep silent. His mother had been fuming for the past week and his stepfather had been absent, and, according to his uncle, sulking in a tiny flat near the train station. Harry was not going to say a word.

"Sirius!" Regulus finally snapped. "If you don't want to fish, why didn't you keep Lucius company on the shore?"

Realizing that he did not actually have an adequate answer to his brother's question, Sirius decided to clamber down from the bow and take the damned fishing pole from the stern. Then he could sit down and watch the water all day. He really did not understand the appeal of this apparent sport.

Rising to his feet, Sirius wove his way down the small boat and reached for the fishing pole. As he had never been in a boat, aside from the magical ones on the lake at Hogwarts, Sirius had not realized how slippery a wet boat could be. Nor did he realize that his slick-bottomed shoes were not good to wear in a cold, wet boat.

So, no one expected Sirius to fall off the side of the boat; not Regulus, Draco, or Harry; not Lucius who saw it from the dock; and certainly not Sirius. And the possibility of Sirius not knowing how to swim was very small, as Patera insisted that Regulus and Sirius have swimming lessons at an early age.

As Sirius sank into the water, stunned by the freezing cold, he thought that this might not be the worse thing that ever happened to him. Azkaban certainly was colder than this. He thought of Harry and Severus and Sasha and feebly tried to kick toward the surface of the lake, which seemed quite far away. But, no matter how hard he tried, he could not seem to rise. Belatedly, he pulled his wand from his sleeve, but realized that he could not say an incantation underwater.

And then it did not seem to matter all that much.