The Lion and the Unicorn

- A Man is in Love, Waterboys

Ginny awoke from her third straight nightmare with a start and flopped back onto the pillows. They seemed to be getting more difficult to understand and a lot easier to remember, almost as if they weren't so much dreams as they were memories. She remembered the last one with astounding clarity...

She snorted impatiently. Maeve would try to talk her out of anything she wanted by any means necessary. Unfortunately, Aine was about as ready to change her mind as a half-starved young dragon was to pass up a meal of tender maidens. "I will marry Galahad! I do not want a life of solitude, and I love no other, nor is my love of experimentation so great that it would cause me any grief to lose it if it meant that Galahad and I could live together in peace. Why must you test us so? Why do you think Galahad unworthy simply because he is a man and not a wizard?"

"Magic is not within me, it is me. I cannot control it. I am only the messenger."

And if Ginny thought that that part of the dream was strange, the next part was certainly a surprise. Although in her earlier dreams Galahad had been quite fair, in this one he was not. He was tall, and lean, and dark-haired, and looked exactly like an older Harry, right down to the glasses he wore, which were certainly very out of place in the medieval setting of the dream, and the lightning-bolt scar. It seemed that after Aine saved Galahad, Ginny's own subconscious kicked in a little stronger and tried to make things recognizable. Galahad, the lover, had turned to Harry- Wishful thinking, Ginny thought cynically- Aine's hair became bright red- Cruel reality, she thought wistfully- and the whole of Avalon- for what else could it have been?- had simply faded away to the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch...

"Hey, Red!"

Ginny looked up. It was Julianne. "Mmph," she managed, pulling her thoughts away from Harry, Quidditch, and the dream.

"Time to get up, or you're going to be late for breakfast."

Ginny sighed and reluctantly rummaged around in her trunk for some clean clothes. "Alright. I'll be down in a minute." She headed towards the bathroom, chancing a hopeful glance out the window as she went, and sighed mentally. The snow hadn't melted. That meant no Quidditch, at least not yet. Maybe, if she were lucky, it would do so before Quidditch season was over...

*

Harry wasn't sure what made him lift his head, but something did, and he realized that he was in the middle of History of Magic. Most of the class was slumped over in their seats; he and Hermione seemed to be the only two who were even remotely aware of their surroundings. He stifled a yawn. He could get back to sleep, if only Binns stopped talking for a second...

But the old ghost kept on. "... but Merlin's knights were unable to find Bresal Etarlan and his allies, even with their powerful magic, as they, the enemies, had found a natural magical shield from detection in Meath, down in the fortress beneath Dowth Cairn. In fact the de Duban were not heard from for nearly twenty years, when they kidnapped..."

Harry yawned. This stuff was pretty dry, although for History of Magic it bordered on bearable. He half-closed his eyes, letting his mind wander, but didn't take his eyes off of Professor Binns. Binns took this moment to pull out a ghostly pointer and flicked it lazily in the direction of the map of Ireland, turning Meath a bright red.

Red. He looked down at the red band around his wrist curiously. Everything seemed to be red all of a sudden. Not that he didn't like red. It was his House color, the color of his Firebolt. Ginny Weasley's hair was red... It was if he was viewing the world through someone else's eyes, someone with- Harry stopped that train of thought. Voldemort had red eyes. He shuddered inwardly, then blinked hard to rid himself of the feeling that he was being watched. Turning slowly, he noticed that Hermione was looking at him, an alarmed expression on her face.

"I'm okay," he mouthed at her, resolving to keep a better poker face in the future. Yawning again, he crossed his arms and put his head down on the desk. On his left hand, his Order of the Phoenix ring rubbed comfortingly against his index and ring fingers. Almost everyone else's Phoenix ring had been enchanted to invisibility because of the risks involved in displaying it publicly, but it had been decided that it mattered little if Harry wore one- Voldemort already wanted him dead as it was. The only other person who wore his ring so openly, aside from Albus Dumbledore, was Bill Weasley, who displayed his more as an outward sign of grieving for his MIA friends. Despite the Order's best Tracking Charms, there had been no new developments. They might as well have already been buried-

Something clicked in Harry's mind. Buried. Of course! Conveniently, the bell rang for lunch, and Harry rushed off immediately in the direction of the Headmaster's office.

*

"Sirius." She almost choked on the name. It was a blessing that she'd decided to do this when Mundungus and Arabella were out. Remus, having returned from Norway just two days previously, was sleeping off the full moon.

Sirius looked up, and in his face she saw shock, hurt, and anger written under the betrayal he felt. "It was you," he whispered, barely moving. "It was you," he repeated louder, almost as a question, and then he turned away. "And you never told me."

"I wanted to," she explained, feeling as though she'd just had to rip her own heart out as well as his. "I wanted to, but if I had, would you have even looked at me twice? Would you have given me a chance? Or would you have resented me forever? Sirius, if I'd-"

"I don't think I want to talk to you right now," he said quietly. Sirius stood up and left the room without another word.

Anya didn't bother trying to hide her sobs.

*

Bill was in his office at work, twiddling his wand expertly and distractedly between his thumb and third finger, when the news arrived in the form of Albus Dumbledore's bearded head. Hiding his mild surprise, Bill stood, dragged his chair closer to the fireplace, and sat down again.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said gravely, the customary twinkle conspicuously absent from his eyes.

"Hullo, Professor," Bill returned half-heartedly, trying to bring his mind back to the present. It had buried itself somewhat uncomfortably in the past and gotten stuck there, and he'd been fairly useless when it came to conversations for weeks. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"In this case, a certain Mr. Potter and his better-than-average powers of memory retention during History of Magic." Bill must've looked confused, because Dumbledore continued gently, "He thinks he knows the location of your Miss Scott and her associates."

Bill nearly tumbled right off of his chair. "I'll be there in five minutes."

As it turned out, it was only three minutes and ten seconds, most of the delay having been caused by Bill's almost-nerveless fingers adamantly refusing to write the note to his supervisor. Eventually he gave up and sprinted down the hall to the head office, made an excuse about a family emergency, and begged off the rest of the week. Then, he grabbed the jewelry box under the fake panel in the third drawer down, which contained his Order of the Phoenix ring (he wasn't allowed to wear any jewelry at work), and rubbed it three times counter-clockwise. Three seconds later, he was in the Headmaster's office.

Professor Dumbledore looked up expectantly, glanced at the clock and almost, almost smiled, then motioned for Bill to take a seat next to Harry.

"Where?" Bill said, not bothering to sit down. His wand-hand itched. He tapped his fingers in a restless pattern on the back of the chair.

Under other circumstances, Bill knew, Dumbledore probably would have made a well-intentioned jab at his eagerness. However, he wasn't so cruel as to make light of the situation, especially when, Bill swallowed a lump in his throat, Harry's speculation could be proved wrong.

Or else Anne, Hallie, and Jim could be dead.

He closed his eyes, vowing not to think about that again until he had to.

Surprisingly, it was Harry who answered, in an uncharacteristic, tentative voice, as if he didn't want to interrupt Bill's lapse into self-pity. "An old burial site in Meath, called Dowth. It's got a natural magical shield, which would throw off any Tracking Charms..." He trailed off.

Bill looked at him, trying to keep calm. "When do we leave?" He was painfully aware that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve.

In contrast, Dumbledore hid any sort of emotion he might have felt quite well. "Mr. Weasley, I'm sure you'll agree with me when I say that we cannot leave here without the proper reinforcements and a plan. That said, it is a Friday. If we're to do this, it will be this weekend. Making all haste possible would, I fear, be futile. Your friends have been missing for nearly a month; another day is likely to do little."

Bill absorbed this quietly, knowing he was being chastised. "Yes, sir."

They were interrupted at that moment by the entrance of four someones- Bill could tell this much without turning around- but when he did look, he was surprised (and mildly alarmed) to find that not only had his brother been summoned, but Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, and a young woman who, going by his brother's description in his last letter, could only be Chloë Sanderson.

"Ah, excellent," said Dumbledore, his mood lightening visibly. "Bill, I'd like to introduce you to some instrumental members of the Order of the Phoenix- your brother, of course, and Professors McGonagall and Snape are working on some very important new curses and potions to be used against the Dark Arts. New to our ranks is-"

"Chloë Sanderson, I presume?" Bill asked, suddenly in the mood to embarrass his brother. He grinned to himself as the back of Charlie's neck turned red. He stuck out his hand for her to shake, but when she extended hers he raised it to his lips and kissed it, absolutely reveling in the expression on Charlie's face. "My brother has told me so much about you."

Charlie looked murderous.

Severus Snape looked like Christmas had come early, at least, his sneer seemed to suggest amusement rather than disgust.

Chloë seemed to be fighting to keep the smile off of her face. "Really," she said dryly. "That's interesting. Because he's never said much about his charming older brother."

Bill thought he heard McGonagall snicker, but decided it must've been a cough. He was just about to reply when Charlie cut him off.

"All right, that's enough, you," he said, mock-glowering although there was more than enough sincerity behind the look. "From what I've heard, we've got some serious work to do."

"Hear, hear," Bill agreed heartily, more anxious than ever to get going. Professor Dumbledore conjured some more chairs, and Harry began to retell his tale...

*

There was nowhere in the house he could escape, Remus reflected. He couldn't stand being in his bedroom; he could sense Anya's presence two doors down and smell her pain and it was not at all pleasant. There wasn't much point in going upstairs; playing pool against himself was never quite so much fun as when he played against Sirius.

And there was little chance of dragging Sirius away from that piano. Its music filled the house with some Muggle tune Remus had never heard before, although it didn't sound exactly happy. Sirius was storming through the notes like there was no tomorrow; Leon was sitting on the floor at Sirius' feet, looking up with rapture at his surrogate father and enjoying every tick of the metronome.

And the most disturbing part; far more disturbing than the thought that he could hear Anya's now-muffled sobs with his acute sense of hearing; far more disturbing than the way Sirius was concentrating on his music and hadn't even noticed that he was being observed yet; far more disturbing than the ease with which 'surrogate father' completely fitted to Sirius and Leon's relationship, even with Anya figured in; of all of this, the most disturbing part was that Sirius was singing.

In all Remus' years of knowing Sirius, he had never known him to do more than recite anything more than the occasional original ditty to annoy Snape. He never hummed anything. He didn't mouth the words to songs when he heard them on the Wizarding Wireless. Remus hadn't even known that Sirius liked Muggle music until that summer at Dromore House, and suddenly there seemed to be an undiscovered hallway in his friend's soul.

Whatever happens next, Remus thought as he retreated up the stairs to the sanctuary the pool table offered, It's sure as hell not going to be pretty. He smiled wryly to himself. Or G-rated.

*

I am not hearing this. I am not hearing this. Anya pulled her pillow tighter over her ears, unable to deny it any longer.

Apparently, Sirius wasn't just a Paul McCartney fan. She could hear, through the pillow, through the walls, through to her very core, the strains of music resounding from that piano. And above that, just barely, she could hear Sirius' voice.

Apparently, he did sing.

Why Billy Joel? she wondered, and allowed herself to listen harder. She sat up on her bed and opened the door, leaning against the doorframe and wondering if she should just leave well enough alone. But the music was like the pied piper calling, and she could not restrain herself from skulking down the corridor to the sitting room.

Once again thankful that Remus was detaching himself from the whole bloody mess, Anya stood against the wall and closed her eyes. I don't want to do this...

It would have to be that song, wouldn't it? Anya thought wryly, and sank to the floor.. She sighed quietly. Billy Joel had never had quite this effect on her. But then, she didn't know him personally. And she'd certainly never considered him romantically. Wait a minute, since when have I considered Sirius romantically? Or anyone, for that matter? But, she thought distractedly, he does have a rather nice arse. Her eyes opened wide at that thought. This is a dangerous train of thought, she realized, and quickly put an end to it.

Well, Anya thought cynically, that's certainly appropriate.

She waited patiently for him to finish the song, and when he did and failed to move afterwards, she spoke quietly. "I thought you didn't sing."

Not appearing the least bit startled, Sirius turned haunted dark eyes towards her. "Times change."

She met his gaze for the first time with no secrets behind her eyes. "Yes. Yes they do."

He sighed deeply, covering his face with his hands, and when he spoke it was only through them. "You must've been one hell of a lawyer."

Anya gave him a weak smile. "The best," she answered, wiping the last teardrop from her cheek self-consciously. I must be a mess.

"I should have guessed." Sirius chucked humorlessly. "I suppose I've only got one option, then."

"Unless you want to wait for Pettigrew's capture to be declared innocent, I should say so. The court hearing shouldn't take more than an hour- it would just be you, me, a qualified Veritaserum expert, and Dave Dobson, head of the Department of Magical Law."

"I guess if there's no trial the first time around, you can't really have a retrial, can you?" Sirius said. "Although I do find it a cruel sort of irony that the lawyer who got me convicted is going to be the same one that gets me out of this mess."

Anya closed her stinging eyes. "It's the least I can do." She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that, though she knew Sirius couldn't have forgiven her, at least she had some sort of chance for atonement-

"Is your Phoenix ring tingling? Because mine is, and it feels urgent."

She opened her eyes again. Remus, King of Tact, was standing at the top of the stairwell, absently fiddling with an invisible piece of jewelry.

"Actually, yes," she answered, climbing to her feet. Not bothering to draw her wand, she made a vague hand-gesture in the general direction of the fireplace. "Incendio Frius." She made a sweeping gesture, indicating that they should hurry. "After you."

*

"Harry!"

He turned in the direction of the voice. It was Hermione's, that much was certain, and she was annoyed with someone and/or out of breath from running after him. He'd not been able to return to classes after the meeting in Dumbledore's office; his mind was far too busy, so he'd opted instead for a (somewhat) relaxing walk by the frozen lake.

Hermione and Ron jogged up (hand in hand, no less, Harry noticed with glee; something to razz Ron about), their breath short and visible in the chill air. "What are you doing out here, you twit?" Hermione demanded sharply. "It's dangerous, even with the Aurors around, and besides, you'll catch cold-"

"Thanks, Mum," Harry said with a teasing grin as Hermione threw his cloak at him in her frustration. His smile widened; they were still holding hands. "Do I need to ask what you two've been up to while I was out here attempting to contract pneumonia?" They both flushed scarlet and disentangled their hands immediately. This is going to be fun. "Was that a no?"

"Shove off, Harry," Ron muttered, still red.

"Ron, be nice. What were you doing out here, anyway?" Hermione asked as they made their way back up to the castle. "And how much does it have to do with the way you ran out of History of Magic? Did you have another nightmare?"

"Not exactly," Harry said evasively. "Look, I'll tell you everything, but you've got to wait until Monday. I'm- er- sort of bound by this promise I made... but it won't matter anymore on Monday- it will probably be all over the papers-"

"Harry!" Ron said exasperatedly. "Who're we going to tell, anyway?"

"It's not that I don't trust you," Harry explained hastily, not wanting to get into an argument over such a trivial thing. "I'm just worried about people overhearing. It really is important, and I'm sorry that I can't tell you more. They were even talking about Obliviating my memory of the thing." That last wasn't a complete lie: Severus Snape had suggested it, but it was generally thought that if Harry couldn't be trusted, no one could.

"Oh," Ron said, probably a little put out that he couldn't be part of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was only allowed in because he had begged, bribed, wheedled, cajoled and guilt-tripped Sirius into letting him have permission. Even then, he knew he would not even have been considered for membership if it hadn't been for the fact that he was the Boy Who Lived, and they needed him.

*

Preparations began early the next morning. Bill Apparated to a point just outside the wards of Dromore House at around six-thirty, spoke the password to the guard gnomes, and was treated to a wonderful second breakfast by Anya, although he had to eat standing up as everyone was too busy to sit.

Sirius spent half an hour explaining Muggle weaponry, the concept of loading, and roughly what to aim for. Then he took them outside behind the old stables, set up a series of targets, and wished them luck. Bill found that it got progressively easier to imagine 'shooting' (he understood that this was the proper Muggle verb) his enemies, since they couldn't be cursed. He was ready to face them again. There were also small egg-like things that emitted a sort of gas (grenades, or something, Bill thought) that would hopefully render the enemy helpless.

It was at ten o'clock that they finally dressed in their jumpsuits (Sirius privately thought these were unnecessary, but Chloë had insisted, although he had the sneaking suspicion she just wanted to see what Charlie looked like in Lycra), packed up their weaponry, flipped the safety catches on their guns, grabbed the extra ammunition and Portkeyed several miles north to the location of Dowth.

"The thing about Meath," Sirius said as he drew his weapon with his left hand and his wand with the other, "is that there's absolutely nowhere to hide. Do you all know the Inortus Spell?" They nodded. "Good," Sirius continued. "Because we'll be needing it in a minute. Right now I suggest we split into two groups- one group to go in and get the Phoenix members out if they're in there, and another group to cover them. Any volunteers for Group One?"

Bill, Anya and Remus raised their wands.

"Excellent. Remus, do you remember the Maglius Link Charm?"

Remus nodded.

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do to avoid confusion. You link to Anya and Bill, but don't link them to each other. I'll link to Charlie and Chloë, then we'll link to each other. Everybody got the general idea?" More nods. "Good."

When they were linked properly and had tested the communication, they cast Inortus on themselves and made their way up the hill to the cairn.

Stop, Sirius commanded silently, and heard Remus do the same. Is anyone detecting any wards?

There was a slight pause, and then Remus answered, Bill says there's a strong Dark Shield over the entrance. Anya feels it, too.

Another slight pause. Then, They've got it.

Okay, you two, Anya and Bill have got the wards down. Chloë, to the left of the entrance, Charlie, to the right. This made more sense than anyone would give Sirius credit for; they could each inch up right against the entrance to minimize detection without immobilizing their wand hands- Charlie was left-handed. I'm going straight between you, about three meters in. The other group will follow me in, then keep going. If your Invisibility Charm wears off after you've got them, don't worry about it. Just get the hell out. Everyone got that?

Remus answered for all of them: Let's do it.

*

Any idea where they could be? Remus asked in Bill's head. You know them best- can you sense them at all?

Bill concentrated, trying to discern any magical signature that could be Anne's, Hallie's, or Jim's. Left, he replied finally. About as far left as you can go, and then down.

Right. Left it is then- Remus stopped abruptly. Wait, Anya says there's both wards and guards that way. How many guards, Anya? And what kind of wards? Bill, how's your Invisibility Charm holding up?

I've got ten minutes, at least, but not more than fifteen. Bill wondered how Remus could handle getting answers from two people telepathically at once.

A Dementor?! Bill almost had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that aloud. To himself, he thought, They had better hope that Anne is alright, otherwise...

Bill nodded, then, feeling sheepish for not realizing that Remus couldn't see him, Ready. He pulled a grenade out of his belt, enchanted it, and muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa." When he felt it hit the far wall of the corridor, he steeled himself , unconsciously covered his nose with part of his robe, and Summoned back the pin. One, he thought as the pin clattered noisily in the dark hall; Two, as he prepared to remove his Invisibility Charm; Three, as he muttered, "Ortus." Beside him, Remus and Anya did the same.

Working quickly now, he put his wand back in its holster (whose convenient location I won't mention, as some people will be jealous) and pulled the Muggle weapon off of his back. Remus and Anya brandished their wands but did not light them in the dark tunnel, not wanting to alert anyone else to their presence. Let's go, Remus announced, sounding grim in the confines of Bill's mind. They did.

At the end of the tunnel, something was stirring. Resisting the urge to aim and pump it full of lead, Bill moved into the lead position and noted that whatever was moving, it wasn't human. Then the cold wave hit him hard, and he heard again what he'd heard when Dumbledore told him that his teammates were missing-

"Expecto Patronum," Anya murmured, swishing her wand. A silvery mist floated out of her wand, but nothing more. The Dementor kept coming. Anya swore. "Expecto Patronum. Expecto- Oh, sod it! Stupefy." And then, with an irritated flick of her wrist, unbreakable silver cords wrapped around it, keeping it from struggling once it awoke. She melted the cords into the floor, then said, "Reducto."

Bill raised a figurative eyebrow. That was efficient. The Dementor was now so tightly bound by the cords that it could probably only barely move its bony fingers. But he didn't have any more time to think about it, because he could feel, once again, the magic being sucked out of him-

He spun fast and aimed, suddenly peripherally aware that Remus had done the same in the opposite direction, and put three bullets through the torso of the Drifter at point-blank range. Too shocked at the results of his actions to think about the consequences thereof, he turned blankly to Anya and Remus.

Remus looked just as shocked as he did. There, on the ground at Remus' feet, lay the body of the man who could only be Peter Pettigrew.

"Remus!" Anya said aloud, jarring him out of his reverie. "Let's just find the others and get out of here- never mind Pettigrew right now; we'll get him on the way out."

The magical forcefield holding the first of the prisoners was just through the chamber doorway that the Dementor was lying prone in, nestled up against the wall. It was Jim, obviously sleeping and unhealthily thin, with several weeks' worth of grime stuck to his usually almost clean clothing. (Poor Jim was born to be a bachelor.) Bill worked through every Anti-Warding Spell he knew, surprised to find that in the end, the simplest, Finite Guardium, was sufficient to cut through the magic. Remus slung Jim over one shoulder, then picked up Hallie, whom Anya had just freed from the same type of containment. Evidently there were bonuses to being a werewolf- the extra weight wasn't even slowing Remus down.

It was, fittingly, Bill who found Anne, and when she didn't stir when he tried to wake her he thought his heart would splinter. "Anne? Anne, wake up, we've got to get out of here-"

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "She's out cold from the gas, just like the other two," Anya said softly. "Come on, let's go."

Not in any emotional state to protest, or indeed do anything other than what was required of him, Bill gingerly lifted her in his arms and headed towards the door.

Which was now blocked by six big, ugly, mean-looking beings.

Anya swore and before she could think about it, four of them were thrown back against the wall. Remus, get out of here! she thought miserably. It's a trap! The other two creatures- these were Drifters, she knew, and the other four were Death Eaters, Peter Pettigrew not among them- advanced, chanting, arms outstretched. She was just reaching for her Muggle weapon when Remus stepped through the doorway and shot them both.

Not letting her mind register the mess on the floor, Anya glowered. "I thought I told you to get out of here!"

"Since when do I take orders from you?" Remus shot back. Evidently he'd already carried Jim and Hallie out to Sirius. "Bill, it seems we've been discovered; now would be a good time to leave-"

She didn't have to tell him twice: he was out the door and down the corridor before any of the four possibly conscious Death Eaters could move. "Remus. Where are Jim and Hallie?"

Remus paled. "I left them-"

"Go." But he was already running. Pulling her wand out again, she stepped out into the corridor.

Only one of the Death Eaters was still conscious- Avery, she thought to herself. As he opened his mouth to curse her, she shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Avery blocked it. "Furnunculus!"

"Averso!"

"Stupefy!"

Anya ducked. "Expelliarmus!" This time, Avery lost control of his wand and she turned tail and ran, nearly tripping over the limp body of Peter Pettigrew in the corridor. "Mobilicorpus," she muttered as she passed, him, grabbing his arm and checking his pulse at the wrist as she went. It was slow. She doubted he would wake up any time soon.

"Got you!"

She spun around to disarm the whoever-it-was, but tripped and slid on the shale, cursing. Something ripped through the flesh on her leg and she screamed-

*

"Anya's in trouble," Remus panted, setting his charges down where Bill was tending to a still very much unconscious Anne.

Charlie and Sirius looked up. "Where-" Charlie started to ask.

Someone screamed. "There," Remus answered vaguely, but Sirius and Charlie were already gone.

Shit, Sirius thought- apparently too loudly, because he felt Remus Finite Incantatem himself as the thought continued. They had been on top of the cairn before, but now he leapt down over the edge to the entrance, Charlie hot on his heels.

What he saw at the mouth of the cairn made his blood boil- there was Anya, lying helpless on the ground and bleeding from a long gash on her leg, and there above her stood a Death Eater and a Dementor-

But on the ground beside her was the still body of Peter Pettigrew. "Expecto Patronum," Sirius shouted, conjuring up the happiest memories he could. Charlie, beside him, did the same. An unspoken agreement passed between them; Charlie raised his wand against the Death Eater while Sirius levitated the other two up and out of the cairn. Behind him, he felt someone approach, so he let Wormtail drop to the ground, caught Anya up against one arm- she hissed in pain as he inadvertently caused her to put weight on her leg- but the Death Eater did nothing about him, only aimed his wand at Anya and shouted, "Stupefy!"

Sirius managed to block the curse and send one back, making a mental note to brush up on his dueling skills. Charlie had just stopped the Death Eater he was dueling from cursing Anya into the next week and levitated Peter again, retreating. "Sirius- let's go!"

Grimacing, Sirius allowed himself a split second of vulnerability, grasped Anya tighter about the waist, and Apparated back up to the top of the cairn.

He was very lucky that he didn't get splinched- in fact the only reason he didn't was that Bill had just taken down the anti-Apparition wards so that they could leave. Chloë would be the only one not assisting someone else- this was, of course, to be expected in a raid on a suspected Dark rabbit hole- but the others had enough skill to handle the extra weight. Two seconds later, everyone was safe and more or less sound back behind the hedge twenty meters from the gates of Dromore House.

*

Arabella came in, rushing straight past where Remus was tending to Hallie (Jim was already beginning to regain consciousness) and tried to shoo Sirius aside, kneeling beside the bed where Anya lay. Sirius was not to be shooed however, as Arabella might have remembered from Hogwarts; in point of fact he did not move two centimeters from Anya's bedside in several hours. Most people were too tired to notice this, and once the wounded had been tended to they all found bedrooms in which to sleep. It was Arabella who finally moved Anya back to her own room; everyone else was out cold. It was because of this that, when Sirius woke up, he was alone once more.

The house was entirely silent save the sound of his own breathing, Hallie's muffled mumbling, and Jim's soft snores. Anne and Bill were gone; presumably she'd woken up and he had taken her somewhere more private to fill her in on what she'd missed the past few weeks. The most conspicuous absence, however, in Sirius' eyes, was Anya's- she should have been on the cot he was resting his head on- what did she think she was doing, wandering around the house in her condition- she was mad...

His sometimes-eerie sixth-sense led him to her bedroom, where she was thankfully both laying down and asleep. The blanket was pulled up around her right thigh and the material of her jumpsuit was pulled away in places, revealing a rather nasty gash. It looked almost like the one Remus had had down his chest, minus the charring, and Sirius deduced that it was either the same wizard or the same knife blade that had inflicted it, possibly both.

Which meant that she probably had some sort of curse running through her veins to go along with the mild concussion and the nasty flesh wound.

Sirius swore softly. He was sure Arabella had taken care of it, but that didn't mean he liked it any more. The wizards shouldn't logically have been after Anya- already injured, already disarmed, there was no reason she should have been targeted. By the same token, he should have been- he'd had the wand, but besides that, he was Sirius Goddamn Black and they had just engineered the capture of Peter Pettigrew. Something bizarre was going on, and after the whole messy court business was taken care of, he was going to put serious effort into finding out what.

Arabella poked her head in the room while he was mulling this over, and told him, not unkindly but in no uncertain terms, to get lost.

"I can't," he answered meekly, not looking up.

"You'll bloody well have to," Arabella insisted, "I'm going to dress her wounds, and that involves undressing her, and I don't care how old you are, Sirius Black, or what your relationship with that woman is, you are not staying in the room for it!"

Uncharacteristically, Sirius didn't argue.

Something was definitely amiss.

*

There was the ruffling of blankets and a sudden intake of breath, and then a ragged curse. "Bloody hell." Anya pulled the blankets over her head. "Turn it off."

A voice that probably sounded terribly awake answered, "It's the sun, Anya."

She started, then slowly rolled over to face him. "Great Merlin. You don't know how relieved I am to see you're not in my bed."

Sirius made a face at her. "Thanks."

Anya groaned and buried her face in the pillows, "Not meant to be an insult. I wish my powers of recovery were that good." She yawned, closing her eyes again. Her stomach rumbled. "What time is it? No, scratch that. What day is it?"

"Sunday," Sirius answered. "You've been asleep since about noon yesterday. Which is good, because Bill and Anne have been getting all lovey and Arabella won't stop saying how cute they are and it gives me an excuse not to have to see it." He raised an eyebrow. "How's your leg?"

"Hollow," Anya answered as her stomach growled again. "What's for breakfast?"

Sirius grinned. "You missed it. Scrambled eggs on toast with bacon and pancakes." He motioned to an empty plate on the bedside table. "Arabella drafted Remus and Charlie and forced them to learn to cook properly. Not bad for amateurs." Seeing the murderous expression on her face, he hastened to add, "Don't worry, I'm sure Mundungus saved you some..."

She laughed for reasons indiscernible to him and relaxed onto her side, suddenly seeming a lot smaller. "Your Patronus is a unicorn," she said sleepily, tracing imaginary lines on the coverlet. "D'you know why?"

That's a rather personal question, he thought, but decided to answer anyway. They had asked each other far more personal things in the past. "Do you want the long version, or the short and relatively angst-free one?"

Anya raised both eyebrows, her mouth slightly open, apparently at a loss for words. "Never mind," she finally managed. "I didn't mean to-"

He silenced her with a shake of his head. "It's alright. It's-" he closed his eyes, remembering. "It happened one Halloween, while my family was inside celebrating. It was an Indian Summer that year, before Voldemort came to power, and it was going to be the last warm day for a long while so we- my older brother and I- went out at sundown to enjoy the dusk." He cleared his throat and continued. "We got lost, in the woods behind my house. It got dark, and we got separated. I-" He stopped again, unable to watch the expression on her face. "I never saw Orion alive again. I don't know what it was that- well, I don't know how it happened. But there was a unicorn standing over him when I found him, that led me out of the forest."

He didn't need to open his eyes to see the expression on her face- it was written in the way she spoke her next words, in the way he could hear her moving. Still, he nearly jumped when he felt her hand cover his. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I shouldn't have asked."

"You didn't know. If I hadn't wanted to tell you, I wouldn't have." He opened his eyes and suddenly, Anya's bedroom felt a lot smaller. "Well, come on. I'd say it's lunch time."

*

"They seem to be attached at the hip, don't they?" Chloë asked amusedly. She was seated in a padded patio chair in the gazebo with Charlie, Remus, Jim and Hallie, the somewhat battered stone table serving as the center of their circle- Mundungus was in the cellar, guarding the prisoner. She was speaking, of course, of Bill and Anne, who had just passed by a third time. They were circling the backyard a third time, almost but not quite holding hands and talking in low voices; although everywhere else in Great Britain was covered in snow, there wasn't a single flake to be found at Dromore House.

"Attached somewhere, at any rate," Jim commented, extinguishing his cigarette.

"Jim!" Hallie reprimanded sharply, then laughed. "Don't be crude." She sighed dramatically. "I can't believe I'm related to you."

Chloë tuned them out. "How long have they been together?"

"They haven't been more than three feet away from each other in twenty-four hours." The new voice was Sirius', coming up the path with Anya. They took the two remaining chairs.

"You're one to talk," Remus pointed out.

Anya flushed slightly. Sirius did not.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

*

"At first I didn't know why they wanted me. It wasn't like they didn't question us- they did, of course they did, and they would use whatever means necessary to get their answers- but it was as if the answers didn't matter, anyway. The information wasn't important to them. After a while they got bored with us and put us under Stasis Spells."

Bill frowned. "So basically, you still don't know why they kept you alive. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Oh, I know why they kept us alive." The two of them stopped behind the old stable, safe enough for the moment from prying ears. Anne knew she sounded bitter and paranoid, but decided that since she'd been unconscious for almost a month, she had the right. "The whole bloody thing was a trap. They wanted one of you. And you're damn lucky that they didn't get you."

Bill seemed to be absorbing this. "So you were bait, then? Who were they after?"

Anne shrugged. "We might've found out, but unfortunately, we all got away," she said with light sarcasm. It wasn't funny by any means, but it was fairly ironic. "And captured one of them on top of it." She bit her lip. "What I don't understand is why they had a Dementor... or I guess I should say, how. They're not supposed to be able to get off of Azkaban without Ministry permission- and the Ministry doesn't just lend people Dementors-" She stopped. "Unless the Dementors aren't on our side after all?" she suggested gently, knowing that Bill had probably already heard if this was so.

The expression on his face confirmed it, and he sighed, suddenly looking tired. "Dumbledore thinks they're in with the Enemy."

"Oh," she said softly, studying the ground. When he looked like that-

"Anne."

His voice compelled her to meet his eyes, and in them she saw pain and anguish and concern-

He pulled her into a tight embrace and she felt a month's worth of tension drain out of him. As he buried his face in her hair, she heard a rough voice, barely above a whisper. "I love you."

*

Being a hero on the weekend, Charlie soon discovered, did not mean that you got special privileges when it came to teaching. For example, if your brother broke another boy's nose, you pretty much had to give him detention, even though he was your brother and he thought that it was unjust, and even when the other boy was the irritating Draco Malfoy and had been provoking him on purpose. It was in this way that he ended up with the two of them standing just outside the staff room at nine o'clock Monday night.

Ron was looking particularly mutinous, if a bit smug, and Draco was just looking mutinous. They were standing as far apart as they could and still be considered just outside the staff room. Both looked like they were positively itching to draw their wands. Charlie sighed to himself. It was going to be a long night.

"All right, you two," he said, gesturing down the hall. "Outside. I want to see how you are at"

"Catching Glo-Pixies?" Draco whined five minutes later. He secretly probably would have preferred something a little more vicious, thought Charlie, but would have outwardly insisted that his Care of Magical Creatures Professor was trying to get him killed.

Charlie glared. "Well, I'd ask you to help with the Firebreathing Suckerfish, but I doubt you've ever been ice-fishing in your life. Come back in an hour."

Draco glowered, but said nothing, and stalked off.

It's not like he actually has to do anything, Charlie reflected. Glo-Pixies were notorious for their curiosity: all Draco had to do was cast an elementary Illusion Charm, wait for the Pixies to show up, and Stupefy them.

Meanwhile, he and Ron tested the ice on the lake, making sure it was thick enough before venturing partway out. In all his years, Charlie could never remember a time when the lake had actually been frozen over completely, but it was. He and Ron sat down and, after casting a small hole in the ice, they touched their wands to the surface of the water and settled down to wait.

"My bum's got frostbite," Ron said moodily.

"I could cast a Heating Charm under you," Charlie offered helpfully, grinning.

He scowled. "No, thanks."

"I thought not." Charlie paused. How to address the issue ah, well, Ron was his brother after all. No privacy. "What did Malfoy do to tick you off, anyway?"

If it was still possible, Ron's expression darkened. He didn't seem to be about to say anything, but then Charlie heard, "He's a slimy, Muggle-hating, despicable ferret."

"Oh, is that all?" Charlie pulled his wand up out of the water and shook the Suckerfish off into a tub he'd brought with him, then stuck it back into the water. "Here I thought it was something serious."

"It is serious," Ron exclaimed, his wand hand trembling with what Charlie perceived as rage. "He won't- I mean, that is, he" Charlie raised an eyebrow. "He threatened Hermione's parents."

"He what!?" Charlie felt as if he'd just fallen through the ice. "He wouldn't do that- not in front of the rest of the class"

"Excuse me? Have you met Draco Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously, and Charlie wondered if he was deliberately trying to sound like the other boy. "Narcissistic, stuck-up, snot-nosed, filthy, slimy rich brat? About yay high, white hair, has a stick lodged permanently up his-"

"Enough, Ron. What I want to hear more about is this alleged threat."

Even in the dark, he could see Ron flush slightly. "He was- being a git, and Hermione told him he'd better quit it or she was going to do some curse on him that would endanger his winning Witch Weekly's Most Insensitive Smirk award, and he said, 'The only danger you should be worried about is the danger your being a- Mudblood,'" Ron spat the word, "'puts your parents in.'"

Charlie was silent for a moment. It wasn't much of a threat- it wasn't even that cleverly worded- and indeed, in some lights it could be seen as a warning. It was still incredibly insulting, but that didn't excuse Ron's behavior, either. "And you just happened to overhear some insults and decided Malfoy needed his face beaten in." Ron mumbled something. "Pardon me?"

"I said, he wasn't insulting Hermione," Ron repeated, barely louder.

Ah. Much as he loved playing matchmaker, Ron and Hermione were a couple Charlie wasn't quite prepared to handle. He decided to be direct. Older brother's privilege, after all. "So when are you planning on asking her to the Ball?"

Ron jumped so high that the movements of his wand scared away a small group of Firebreathing Suckerfish. "How did you-"

Charlie wanted to laugh, but restrained himself for fear of hurting his brother's feelings. "Just a hunch. Didn't you have a huge fight last year when you didn't ask her to go?"

He could tell Ron was blushing harder. "Well"

Charlie grinned. "Ron, let me let you in on the secrets of asking a girl out"

*

The court date had gone incredibly smoothly, even smoother than Anya had anticipated, and was over in a few hours whereas it usually took days. All of it was down to the use of Veritaserum, usually prohibited in the courts, but an exception had been made for this case because the events had occurred so long ago. Aside from that, Anya had called in a favor with the Minister of Magical Law Enforcement, and so everything was kept low-key. However, she had no doubt that the truth about Sirius Black would be all over the pages of the Daily Prophet by morning.

Peter Pettigrew had been sent to Azkaban. The jury (for his trial had only just started) had not yet decided upon a punishment, although it was likely to be a life sentence or several.

Anya did not know what Sirius thought about this. He was in the kitchen, thinking, wondering, reflecting, and for some reason was in a more melancholy mood than she would have anticipated. She could practically hear him brooding.

Mundungus and Arabella were at the Ministry yet again; the Experimental Potions Department needed Arabella's guidance on a more powerful version of Wolfsbane, and Mundungus' expertise was needed in the Aurors' fields; more of that lot were disappearing or turning up dead every day.

Anya was just finishing up her minutes of the hearing when she heard the noise.

Her hearing was not what it would have been had she been descended more directly from the High Ones, the Tuatha dé Danann, but it was fairly keen. Frowning, she put the book down and followed the noise down the corridor.

Left. It was on the left side. That meant-

Leon.

Sidhe senses screaming at her, Anya raced down the hall and threw open the door to his room.

Silence.

Heart pounding in relief, she strode quickly over to the crib to see if she'd awakened him.

He wasn't there.

The pounding of footsteps outside drew Anya's attention, and she vaulted out the window after them. "SIRIUS!"

*

Something was wrong. He could feel it. He could smell it, he could hear it--

"SIRIUS!"

He whirled around and bolted out the front door, raced across the front yard and out the gate. "Where?" he yelled, waiting to be directed.

"There!" came the answer as Anya rounded the orange bushes and flew out the gate, falling back just the slightest bit as her feet hit the snow. "Behind the hedge-"

Even as he drew closer, Sirius knew it would be too late. When he skidded around the corner, he was afforded only a glimpse of his onetime friend before both he and Leon disappeared with an audible pop.

"No!" Obviously having heard the sound, Anya had doubled her pace, but to no avail. "No," she whispered, eyes glued to the spot where the tracks in the snow stopped. "No. Sirius, he can't be-" she dared not say more.

Sirius, too, felt the blow. Twice I've failed the people I care most about "Anya, I- my God, I'm so sorry-" His throat closed and he found he could speak no more. Idiot. This is your fault!

Tears were flowing unchecked down Anya's face, which made everything worse. Not knowing what else to do, nor if he was doing it to comfort Anya or himself, Sirius drew her into his arms. Anya collapsed against him, pouring her anguish out into his shoulder, and cried. Words of comfort failed him, and if they hadn't he may have needed them for himself.

Pettigrew was gone again, and once again he'd taken a crucial part of Sirius' life with him. I swear, Peter, Sirius vowed, that I will do everything in my power to find you, and heaven help you when I do.