A Sirius Affair

A SIRIUS AFFAIR

Chapter 10

The Inner Circle

It was about two weeks after the party, and Harry had just returned from another investigation. He'd been gone for nearly a week, and he smiled in relief at being home again as he entered his flat shortly after finishing the I.D. debriefing. Hedwig was there to meet him with a note from Hermione:

Harry,

Decided to stay a few extra days with Mum. Dad went on back home, but we're going to do a bit of shopping in Paris. I'll be back on Saturday. I feel much better and ready to take on the world. Hope all is well with you -- see you Saturday if you're home.

Love from --

Hermione

"Bugger!" Harry muttered "I was hoping she'd be back by now. Ow!," he exclaimed as his hand brushed against a lump on his right temple. He set his bag down by the door and went to the bookcase to try to find Hermione's text on Healing Charms. Harry hadn't done much wizard medicine. Hermione had always been there to fix him up, so he never bothered to learn. After searching fruitlessly through pile after pile of Hermione's books, he settled himself on the couch and concentrated very hard to picture the book's appearance clearly in his mind. "Accio," he muttered, staring at the book that had suddenly appeared from under a pile of old Daily Prophets.

He started to page through the text impatiently. "I know it's in here somewhere," he muttered after searching without luck for some time. Relieved to hear a knock at the door and hoping it was someone who might know something, anything, about healing charms, he directed his wand at the door. It glowed green, and he waved his hand to open it. "Hullo! Just the person I was hoping to see," he called as Ginny entered the flat.

"Oh my god, Harry! What happened to you?" Ginny looked horrified, having not seen Harry in this condition since some of his adventures at Hogwarts.

"All in a day's work, well . . . this is actually about a week's worth. It's not as bad as it looks I don't think. But, you wouldn't happen to know any handy healing charms, would you?" He winced as touched his face gingerly. "Okay, maybe it is as bad as it looks," he said ruefully.

"I know a bit," Ginny murmured. "Mum is great with them. Of course, she had loads of practice . . . six boys and all. I picked up a bit so let's see what I can do," she said as she summoned her wand from her satchel that she'd left by the door.

"Hermione usually takes care of these for me . . . "

"Oh really?" Ginny replied. "Ooh . . . sorry," she muttered distractedly as Harry exclaimed; she'd let her wand tip linger a bit too long on one of his cuts.

"Yeah," Harry continued. "But she's still off on holiday. Shopping in Paris with her Mum."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Ginny said quietly as she leaned around to heal the bruises on the other side of his face.

She was so close and it had been over a week since he'd seen her, so he seized the opportunity to pull her into a long deep kiss. However, just as his heart began to race a bit, the clock on the wall chimed 2:00. He pulled back and said suspiciously, "Wait! What are you doing here in the middle of the day? Shouldn't you be at work?"

She sighed heavily. "Oh . . . well, as it turns out, I quit my job today!" She smiled sheepishly at him.

"You what?!"

"I quit!" she repeated vehemently as she got up and began to pace. "I was sitting in another interminable meeting, bored to tears as it was . . . when the Editor-in-Chief came in and introduced a new hire. Seems this new editor was hired to give Witch Weekly a more modern edge to appeal to younger witches and wizards. I was speechless. The new guy then launched into all these grand new ideas of his, all of which I had introduced at one point or another in the last year, all with no success, much less a response. And here was this guy being touted as the spokesperson for our generation. Well, once I recovered my ability to speak, I gave them all what for and quit."

"Good for you!" Harry cheered.

"Yeah, well, good for me all right, but now I'm out one job and one steady source of income," Ginny said as she went into the kitchen to get herself some water.

"What are you going to do now? I didn't think you had targeted any other publications that interested you," he said as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Well, I've been doing some investigating into financing a start-up magazine. My magazine, the one I've been planning. I talked to Amelia at the party, and she put me in touch with the marketing wizards at the Culinary Institute. They said they were always looking for new ways to publicise their work, and they could be counted on for some initial capital."

"Uh-huh," he said as he came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and began to nuzzle her neck.

"Then there's the robe and cloak manufacturers. They have never been pleased with the way Witch Weekly presents their merchandise. I had lunch with one of their reps last week in fact," Ginny continued, obviously enthused by this topic.

"Mmm, hmmm," Harry mumbled supportively as he began to run his hands between her shirt and her skin.

She leaned back into him and began to run her lips up his neck as she continued talking, "Then there's this investor who owled out of the blue and said he'd be willing to put up half the operating costs for a full year!"

"Hmmmm, who is this marvelous chap? Where'd you meet him?" Harry asked as he started to venture further into her clothes.

Ginny laughed. "Well, I've never actually met him. I think he got in touch with me through the Culinary Institute," she said as she turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt and allowing her lips to follow her hands. ". . . his name's Sloan Peregrine and . . . ."

"WHAT!" Harry yelled, stepping back as though he'd just been burned.

Completely startled by the vehemence of Harry's reaction, Ginny stammered, "Sloan Peregrine. Why? Do you know him?"

"Yes, unfortunately, I know him. Well, I met him once . . . and I know a fair bit about his activities. You need to turn him down right away, Ginny, and not have anything more to do with him," Harry said insistently.

"Easy for you to say!" she retorted hotly. "I just quit my job on the promise of his financing, and you're telling me to turn him down? On what grounds? No. . . wait, let me guess. You can't tell me. . . . it's all part of that super-secret whatever you do!"

He looked away, trying to figure out what he should and shouldn't tell her. Finally, he looked at Ginny and said, "Look, this guy is trouble. You're right -- I can't tell you very much. Even if you don't follow my advice, I have the distinct impression that you'll be looking for a new investor soon anyway. But, worse, if you don't take my advice and you do accept his money, I'm afraid . . . you could find yourself in the position of having to defend why you accepted his money and counter charges that you were somehow involved in his less than legal activities."

Ginny was silent for a long while, staring off into the living room. At last she said, "Okay. So, it sounds like I need to come up with a Plan B."

"Look, I'm not trying to ruin your new business. I really do think you'll be marvelous at running your own magazine, but just look before you accept large amounts of financing from anyone, okay?" he said as he pulled her into his arms again.

"I know you're right, but you are beginning to sound like my father, or worse yet, my brothers," she said with still a trace of irritation in her voice.

"Ah, but remember I'm not your brother," he teased lightly, kissing her.

She began kissing him back but broke away again almost immediately, crossing the room to look out the window. "It's just that everyone feels this need to protect me, make everything run smoothly for me. Well, I just think I can make this project run smoother if I don't let people clear the way for me, thank you very much. That was the problem with Grant. He wanted to shelter me and protect me. He thought by marrying him I wouldn't need to work and that I would be ecstatic about that. But I want to work! I love creating something. I'd go mad playing house all day! And, you know, being taken care of is fine, romantic and wonderful if you haven't had 6 brothers and an over-protective Mum."

She paused and stared out into the street for a long moment before turning to face Harry. "I really think this is the right opportunity to create something on my own, without the way being prepared by family or friends. But I do appreciate the heads up on Peregrine. Maybe I'll ask Neville to do a background check on any other investors . . . If I can ever find any other investors that is."

"That's a great idea! And, Ginny -- have no fear: I don't have the time to be running about preparing a path for you, much as I would like to help you see this idea of yours through. I mean it is partially my fault you started to take this idea seriously, but the ever mysterious job keeps me out of town a lot and rather busy when I'm not out of town."

"Sounds like an ideal relationship then, Mr. Potter," she said, warming up to him a bit. "We'll forge our own paths . . . meet up when our demanding careers permit, and, oh, I don't know . . . have the occasional shag."

"Just the occasional shag?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know . . . that might depend on the occasion I suppose . . . ."

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

It was late afternoon, and Cordelia was staring blankly out of her office window when her friend Emma Anders poked her head in. "You look like you're in another world!" she commented as she plopped down in one of the chintz armchairs Cordelia had squeezed into the tiny space. "Why the deep look of concentration? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," Cordelia replied with a short laugh. "Just ruminating about my future here . . . . or the lack thereof," she said as she gestured to the open email on her computer screen.

Emma glanced at it and nodded. "I thought I'd better check on you once I saw that."

"Bastards!" she burst out angrily, turning away from the window to face her friend. "Henry Nash assured me personally that this was my year. I could have pursued several promising in-house opportunities earlier this year, but I believed that lying son-of-a-bitch! Mind you, I don't know why! What's that saying? 'Fool me twice, shame on you; Fool me three times, shame on me'?"

"Actually, I think it's 'Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me,'" Emma said gently.

"Even better!" Cordelia said indignantly, pacing in the small space near the window. "So, I should have left two years ago. But, here I am, continuing to slave away with all these damn hours, lining the partners' pockets by sacrificing my life!" She whirled around from the window suddenly, "How! How can they be only putting up Nick Barrington? The man is an insipid fool!"

"That may be, but . . . . well, his family connections are . . . . useful to the firm, aren't they?"

Cordelia didn't answer and went back to pacing in front of the window. Emma finally broke the silence, "Look, why don't you go make that nice bloke you've been seeing take you out for a nice dinner . . . . have a few bottles of wine and just don't come in tomorrow. Once you've calmed down, you can focus on what you might want to pursue."

Cordelia sank back into her office chair and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "That all sounds really lovely Emma, except that . . . Ian . . . is working tonight." She'd decided to continue calling Sirius by the name "Ian" around her colleagues; the name Sirius was a bit odd and well, who knows what memories might be triggered if she mentioned the name to people in her firm. As she'd been staring out the window when Emma came in, she'd been thinking about whether there was room within the wizarding world for some sort of muggle career. Of course, she really didn't know exactly where things were headed with Sirius. They spent every available moment together, and she was quite comfortable with their relationship. But, she was already pondering whether she, a muggle, could really fit into Sirius' world. He'd already told her there were "mixed marriages," but she couldn't help wondering what exactly that meant for the muggle spouse.

"Well, then . . . .the two of us will go out," Emma continued. "There's this great new Italian place, not far from you actually. Luigi's I think it's called. . . ."

Cordelia knew the place; she and Sirius had been there several times. "No, let's just go to Jack's down the street and then we can both just hop on the Tube to get home. I am tired, so maybe just a glass or two of wine and then home for me I think. You know . . . . hot bath, a novel and bed," she said as she switched the computer off and grabbed her coat from the peg behind the door.

Over dinner, they talked a lot about where their careers were going or not going in Cordelia's case. Emma had been married for several years, but, as she had no children yet, she was one of Cordelia's few friends who didn't have family commitments to hurry home to. As they were settling the bill, Cordelia put her hand on her friend's arm. "Thank you so much for stopping by when you did. I was in a bit of a fit over the partner announcement, but I do feel better now. Almost social again I think," she added with a smile.

"I knew you wouldn't be pleased. I also know having dinner with me isn't quite the same as with . . . what's his name again. . . . .Ian?"

"Oh, never think that! I will always make time for dinner with you, no matter what happens at work or with Ian. We should make it a point to keep up this habit of dinners together. It keeps me connected," Cordelia added, realising she might mean connected in quite a different way than her friend.

"Right then, dinner once a . . . .well once whenever we get the need to be connected," Emma answered, paused, then continued. "By the way, has anyone mentioned how your eyes light up when his name is mentioned?"

"No! Do they really? It's not intentional," Cordelia said, blushing slightly.

"Of course it's not intentional! You couldn't fake a reaction like that. What I want to know is," she leaned closer and grinned. "What's causing it? Besides true luuuuuve? I've never seen you react like that with any other man you've dated or even lived with."

Cordelia laughed. "Well, we could go for coffee and you could see for yourself."

"Ooooooo, I get to meet him? Really?"

"If you have the time, sure. I was thinking of stopping by there anyway," Cordelia mused.

"For this, I have time. Any man who can put that look in your eyes deserves a once-over from a friend," Emma stated emphatically as they left the restaurant.

They took the Tube to the Notting Hill Gate station for the short walk to The Obsidian. They took a booth in the corner so Cordelia could point Ian out without him seeing them at first. They were served by a college-age girl Cordelia hadn't seen in there before. They chatted some more, until Cordelia caught sight of him coming through the door that led to the back room.

"That's him," she said to her friend as her stomach did a little flip, as it still did every time she saw him.

"Him? That man with the dark hair? Oh my! Cordelia! Well, I can . . . . um . . . certainly see the attraction. He's in his 40s, you said? Are you sure?" she teased.

"He is quite attractive, isn't he?" she said in a dreamy voice, before catching herself and reverted to a more logical tone. "He's also warm, intelligent, and very funny."

"What's he doing working here if you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, as he once said to me, 'That my dear is a very long and complicated story.' Just know that he wouldn't be working here if he had a choice."

Sirius was moving about the bar, checking on the customers when he came by their table. He hadn't really focused on them when he asked, "Is everything okay here?" But as Cordelia gazed at him, he did a double-take, and his face broke into a very large grin. "What the blazes are you doing here?"

"We're spying on you," she said with a sly grin. "I'm getting Emma's impression of you before you have a chance to influence her with your charm. This is my friend Emma Anders from the office . . . Emma, this is Ian Black."

"Charming to meet you at last, Ian. I have heard an awful lot about you lately," Emma said as she held out her hand.

Sirius shook her hand. "Not everything, I hope," he commented with a wink to Cordelia.

"No, not everything, dear," Cordelia answered.

"I've got some other people to check on so, I'll leave you two to talk about me for a few moments, but I'll be back, so behave!"

"Oh, before I forget," Cordelia said, still squeezing his hand. "Are you working Friday night?"

"No, but I have to do some work for Harry, and I'm hoping to recover those relics we've been talking about," Sirius answered, hoping she would recognise what he was referring to.

"That's fine. Maybe I'll see if Mum wants to see a movie."

"I'll come back by in a bit," Sirius said, leaning over to kiss Cordelia lightly.

"Right then! Get to work coffee slave . . . off you go!" Cordelia joked.

"You know he had the same look in his eye when he realised it was you as you do when you see him," Emma commented. "You both have it bad, don't you?"

"Yes, fortunately I guess we do."

They stayed at The Obsidian, chatting with Sirius for over an hour until Emma finally decided she'd better get back to her husband. Cordelia walked with her back to the Tube Stop. After they'd bid each other good-bye, Cordelia found herself humming a tune she'd heard on the radio earlier that day. It seemed to strike a chord with her for some reason. The lyrics played in her head:

And if you said this life ain't good enough

I would give my world to lift you up

I could change my life to better suit your mood

Cause you're so smooth

She thought to herself, "Hmmmm, could I give up my world to live in his? That's rubbish . . . he can't even live in his world at the moment." She sighed and got on the train.

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

Harry was awoken around 1:00 a.m. on Saturday morning by the sharp talons of Hedwig on his chest. She didn't scratch, but she was persistently poking him with her beak. He sat up and took the parchment from her leg. As he read it, a feeling of dread replaced the warm and cozy feeling in his stomach that had been there moments before. He swung his legs out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that was nearby. He leaned over the bed and gave Ginny a gentle kiss to waken her. "There's been an emergency at work. I probably won't be around for a couple of days. I'll call you when I can." Ginny nodded sleepily and went back to sleep.

Harry motioned for Hedwig to ride on his shoulder as he quietly made his way to the kitchen. He wrote out a number of notes for Hedwig to deliver, grabbed his cloak and his wand and set off into the night.

Harry apparated to an alley on Old Montague Street, right behind Sloan Peregrine's house. By this time, the scene was swarming with Ministry enforcers, Aurors, and memory squad personnel. An unremarkable charm had been cast over the area so as not to raise suspicions with the muggle neighbours. As Harry made his way towards the house, he was stopped a number of times, but most of the enforcement personnel allowed him to pass quickly once they recognised him. The house was smoldering, and the upper floor and roof were missing completely. There were a number of witches and wizards, bound tightly with ropes, being detained in one area of the yard. He glanced over at them but didn't see Sirius amongst them. He saw three bodies with sheets draped over them not far from where he was standing. Approached the bodies apprehensively, Harry lifted the sheets. Two victims were lying face up, and Harry sighed inwardly with relief that neither was Sirius. The third body was lying face down, with a crossbow arrow protruding from his back. Harry bent over and moved the head of this wizard with his wand so he could see the wizard's face. It was Sloan Peregrine, without his glasses.

Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief as he made his way to the lead enforcer on the scene, "Wow, what a mess! What happened?"

"Hello Harry," the woman responded. "We don't know yet. We reckon it was a meeting of a group of dark wizards and things got a bit out of hand. The most interesting story has Sirius Black at the scene. Some of them say he killed Sloan Peregrine because this Sloan character was cutting into his territory."

"What do you think really happened?" Harry asked evasively.

"Haven't gotten it sorted out yet. You might want to talk to the wizards we've restrained over there," she gestured toward the detainees. "We found most of them stunned in the basement. That's where they were meeting. They're damn lucky they weren't roasted by whatever blew this place up."

"Will they be there for awhile?"

"Yeah, the Ministry can't get a transport down here for another half hour."

"Good, I want to have a look around first."

"I'll make sure they don't get taken away before you've had a chance to talk to them."

"Thanks," Harry said as he walked towards the house.

Harry entered what was left of the first floor and made his way down the stone steps into the basement. Its stone facing ensured that it had largely survived whatever conflagration had destroyed the upper floors. It was one large room, with a decidedly sinister feel. Torches lit the room. Broken trophy cases containing remnants of skulls, bones, weapons and various implements of torture lined three of the walls. The front wall of the room had no trophy case; instead there was a tall cauldron-shaped statue that had been knocked off its formerly centered location. Harry shivered slightly as he moved closer and noticed that there were outstretched hands and forearms rising out of the cauldron, and the top, where papers could be shuffled on a flat surface, was what appeared to be the top of someone's head. This cauldron acting as a podium was flanked by marble statues of wizards. The wizard statues were draped in black robes with the hoods pulled up over their heads. Each held a crossbow pointed out towards the rest of the room. One statue's crossbow was armed, the other was not. "Looks like I found who shot the arrow that brought about the demise of Mr. Peregrine," Harry thought, "But how could the statue fire the crossbow?" For some reason, Harry found the statues very unsettling. "Why would Sloan clothe statues? . . . . this guy was definitely weird."

Harry wandered through the room, making a mental picture of the scene and trying to take in as many details of the aftermath as possible. He walked over to the trophy cases. While some of the contents were scattered across the floor, a number of things appeared to be missing altogether. Harry noted one urn decorated with glyphs of rats and fire that was intact but empty. He had a strong suspicion he knew what it had contained and wondered whether Sirius had been the one to take the contents. He picked up a piece of parchment from the floor, and, noting it contained a list of potion ingredients, he pocketed it.

Harry finished looking through the macabre basement and the house and then crossed the yard to the area where the Ministry enforcers were holding the detainees. He looked down the line of faces, most of whom were staring at their shoes, until his eyes landed on a familiar face. He crossed directly in front of this wizard at once. "Rufus? What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he said quietly.

"Harry," Rufus said cynically. "Charming of you to show up. Here to gloat at my misfortune? You're becoming quite skilled at that, you know."

Harry called the guard over. "I'll take this one with me. Let me know when you get statements from the rest of them." With that, Harry took Rufus by the arm and released the leg locker curse so he could walk. His hands remained bound though. Harry knew better than to take too many chances, even if he didn't really think Rufus was any threat. Harry cast the spell to apparate suspects to I.D. interrogation center, and seconds later, they found themselves at the security checkpoint at the front of the building. Harry led Rufus into an interrogation room without saying a word. Once in the room, he removed Rufus' hand restraints and gestured silently toward a chair. Although he shot Harry a murderous glance for a few seconds, he did at last fling himself into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry paced silently in front of him for a few moments, thinking to himself. "This bloke has always hated me. Need to approach this in the right way; I've got to find out what happened to Sirius. The last thing I want is for Rufus to clam up out of stubbornness."

He cleared his throat but Rufus refused to look directly at him. "Rufus, I know enough already to know that you were acquainted with Sloan Peregrine through that E² group. So, the next question would be, were you aware of Peregrine's dark circle activities?"

Rufus was silent, still refusing to look up at Harry. "Okay, let's rephrase the question a bit. Did you have any contact with Peregrine outside the E² meetings?"

"How did you meet Peregrine in the first place? Was it through one of those E² meetings?" He was met with nothing but silence from Rufus.

"Did Peregrine tell you that the meeting tonight was an E² meeting or were you aware that it involved a bit more than the latest crackpot divination theories?"

Exasperated that Rufus was steadfastly refusing to answer any questions, Harry leaned closer to Rufus and began to fire questions rapidly at him. "You went to Cardiff a few weeks ago, did you go at Peregrine's request? Did you meet up with a witch known as Jeralyn? What sort of relationship was there between Peregrine and this Jeralyn? Anything more than just an occasional bang now and again? Why did you go to Cardiff anyway, Rufus?

This last question had the desired effect. Rufus' eyes were blazing when he looked up at Harry. "I would never do something like that to Hermione! Never! But, I'm not going to answer any of your questions, Harry. You're the last person I want to talk to!" he spat viciously.

Harry pulled a chair over and seated himself directly in front of Rufus. "Well, like it or not Rufus, you're in a bit of a pickle here, and you've got two choices. You can agree to talk to me, or I'll be forced to send you back to the Ministry. They can process your case along with all those other witches and wizards who were at tonight's little gathering. That will take a fair bit of time, Rufus. Meanwhile you'll be languishing in a Ministry detention cell. The folks over at the Ministry also don't know you personally."

At this, Rufus snorted. "As though you're going to give me fair treatment! You can't possibly be fair because of your relationship with Hermione. I'll talk to someone else here but not to you."

"Look, leave Hermione out of this! I always liked you just fine Rufus, and I assure you that I will be completely fair with you. In fact, if you'll think about it rationally for a minute, I think you'll realise that you're far better off dealing with me than with anyone over at the Ministry. And, sorry, but there's noone else here familiar with the Peregrine matter other than me. So, I'm afraid you're stuck with me or going back to the Ministry. Your choice. Shall I give you some time to think it over?"

Instead of answering this question, Rufus just began to talk quietly, still staring at his clasped hands rather than looking at Harry. "I met Peregrine for the first time over a year ago, at one of the E² meetings. My friend Bianca told me about the group, and I went to a meeting for the first time in the spring of last year. April maybe."

"And did you have any contact with Peregrine outside of those E² meetings?"

"Not until recently. He owled me to say that he needed someone with herbology expertise to acquire and deliver some potions ingredients to a friend of his in Cardiff. She'd sent a list of what she needed. He asked for my professional consulting rates."

"Jeralyn?"

"Yes. He told me she would send a package back with me to be delivered to him."

"And, did you see him when you brought the package back?"

"No, it was relatively small, and he told me just to send it to him by owl."

"Any idea what the package contained?"

"No," Rufus shook his head swiftly. "No one said, and it wouldn't have occurred to me that it was anything suspect."

"I want to come back to more about Jeralyn later, but for now . . . let's talk about how you ended up at that meeting at Sloan's house tonight. You weren't on the list of expected attendees last week you know."

Rufus looked up, unable to hide his surprise that Harry would have had access to a list of witches and wizards expected to attend one of Peregrine's meetings. "Yes, we had access to the list," Harry said as he glanced at Rufus. "So, when did you first learn of the meeting, and can you tell me why Peregrine wanted you there?"

"He owled me on Wednesday. He asked me to come to this meeting at his home . . . and he had another list of potions ingredients that his friend Jeralyn needed. He said she would be there too, and we could discuss how I might help them on a consulting basis now and again."

"Didn't you wonder why she wasn't acquiring these herbs herself?"

"No," Rufus shot back defensively. "I just assumed she didn't know much about the herbs themselves, how to select the best quality and so forth."

"And the ingredients themselves didn't seem suspect to you? Fu-shen and zizyphus? And lindera?" Harry went on, reading from a scrap of parchment. "Those are fairly lethal herbs in combination, are they not?"

"How . . . " Rufus began in a flustered voice.

"I picked this up in Sloan's basement before I met up with you. I was looking it over just now while I was waiting on you to decide whether you wanted to talk to me or not. So . . . did these ingredients not strike you as a bit suspicious, Rufus?"

"Actually, those herbs are not necessarily always lethal, Harry," Rufus said with a wry smile. He proceeded to elaborate several medicinal and everyday combinations that could contain the same ingredients. "I guess I should have maybe been more suspicious though . . . in hindsight anyway," he sighed.

"Well . . . it sounds as though my weak background in potions and herbology led me to form some hasty conclusions. Those were . . . er . . . never my strongest subjects," he said with a grin. "Can we move on to what happened once you arrived at Peregrine's house tonight?"

Rufus nodded grimly. "I arrived a bit late actually. Most everyone was already there. I'd been talking to Jeralyn in Peregrine's living room . . . so we didn't make our way downstairs until things were sort of underway."

"Okay. Well . . . start with what you saw and heard when you first entered the basement area."

"Well, Peregrine was addressing the group from a . . . podium I guess you'd call it. It was really . . . "

"I saw it downstairs, go on," Harry urged, not really wanting to remember that cauldron.

"Well, he was behind that . . . podium thing . . . and your friend Sirius was standing off to his left. Everyone else was seated in front of Peregrine, like an audience really. Jeralyn and I came in to the side and were making our way towards some empty seats. Then, Peregrine pointed at Sirius, introduced him as a wizard named Ian and indicated that he was willing to tutor some of us on transfigurations. I looked up to see who would be teaching us this . . . . I really still didn't quite grasp that this wasn't another E² meeting really. I mean . . . so many of the people there were also members of E². So, I guess I thought this would be related to divination somehow. And, I was surprised to hear anything about transfigurations. I mean could there be anything further from divination, really?"

"Okay, so you looked over at Sirius, and you knew who he was immediately?"

"Yes."

"Then what happened?"

"I . . . I was so stunned . . . I called out to Peregrine that he wasn't Ian but Sirius Black." Rufus was staring at his hands again. "I guess he was there as an investigator, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," Harry replied grimly. "What happened then?"

"Jeralyn called out that she'd seen him with Potter, with you. Then, Peregrine was asking questions of me and of Jeralyn . . . I wasn't really watching what Black was doing. I heard him call out Sensorum Obstructiva! I couldn't quite figure out why he wanted to block Peregrine's senses . . . I remember I was muddling through why this would be and . . . ."

"Did Peregrine have on those glasses he wears at your E² meetings?" Harry interjected.

"Yes. Yes, he did."

"All right. What do you remember after that?"

"Well, I was watching Black. We all were; I think everyone was a little stunned by what was happening. And, it was all happening so fast. And, well, he raised his wand again and cast another curse, but I didn't hear what it was…only it didn't hit Peregrine."

"What did it hit then?"

"I think . . . I think it must have hit one of those statues, the ones armed with crossbows."

"Did you see the crossbow hit Peregrine?"

"Not exactly. I was watching Black like I said . . . and the next thing I knew everyone was screaming and pointing at Peregrine. He was lying on the ground with the crossbow protruding through his back."

"So, based on what you saw and heard . . . would you say Peregrine's death was accidental?" Harry watched Rufus closely. He was studiously avoiding Harry's eyes and clasping and unclasping his hands. It was at least a minute before he spoke. "Yes, it must have been. An accident that is," he said at last. "Sloan . . . . must have stumbled in front of the statue that Black's spell hit."

Harry sighed. "What can you tell me about what happened after that?"

"Well, then, everyone reacted . . . they started throwing curses and spells at Black. He must be a damn good wizard to have blocked and dodged all of that and escaped like he did."

"So, he did escape?"

"Well, he made it out of the basement at any rate . . . ."

"Did he . . .take anything with him?" Harry asked.

"Take anything? I don't think so," Rufus said after some thought.

"So, after that?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I was stunned shortly after that. I reckon all those spells and curses that everyone was throwing at Black . . . they must have combined somehow to basically blow up Peregrine's house. Not the basement though . . . well, you knew that. It must have been the blow-up of the house I should imagine that alerted the Ministry. They were suddenly everywhere, rounding all of us up. Well, you probably know the rest of it really," Rufus trailed off.

Harry was silent for a moment. "Are you willing to sign an affidavit attesting to everything you just told me?" Rufus nodded. "All right, I'll get it transcribed quickly. Unfortunately, Rufus, I don't have the authority to just release you myself. But, I will ensure that my report gets prepared immediately, and I'll recommend that you be released with no charges. It's clear to me that you were an innocent bystander in all this. I expect you'll be on your way by noon if not sooner," he said briskly.

He stood up and after hesitating a moment, he held his hand out to Rufus. Rufus considered for a moment before grasping Harry's hand quickly and muttering, "Thanks."

Harry just nodded and strode towards the door, his robes billowing out behind him. "Say, Harry?" Rufus called.

"Yeah?" he said, turning back around.

"Is Hermione doing okay?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "She's on holiday in France with her parents. She's due back today in fact."

Rufus smiled and nodded as Harry left to get his report and recommendation drawn up.

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

It was late Friday night, and Cordelia had just returned from a trip to the movies with her Mum. She locked the doors and turned off all the lights downstairs. As she climbed the stairs, Sirius was on her mind. He had called earlier and told her he was doing some work for Harry so it would be late Saturday afternoon before she saw him. She had vowed to herself to find a good book to get started on so she wouldn't be awake all night thinking of him. A friend had recommended Emerald House Rising so she had picked it up at the bookstore on her way home. She settled herself into bed and managed to read only a few pages before her eyes became too heavy to keep open. She switched off the light and drifted off into a fitful sleep. She'd only been asleep an hour or two when she awoke with a start to find a large black dog licking her hand. She let out a startled scream, then regained her composure and whispered "Sirius?"

He transformed and whispered, "Shhhhh" before slumping down on the bed beside her, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out prowling with Harry?" Then she noticed his expression as she sat up.

He was very pale and his face was drawn into almost a grimace.

"What's wrong? What happened?" she asked, looking at his shaking hands.

"Well, I'm in a bit of a bind," he started, then he paused, reconsidering. "The less you know about all this the better. Just suffice to say I was at a meeting this evening with some rather unpleasant characters and trying to get those remains. Someone got killed, and I have a feeling a roomful of dark wizards would want to convince anyone who would listen that Sirius Black had resurfaced to kill in cold blood." He paused again. "I'm going to have to disappear for awhile."

"Did you kill in cold blood?" she asked hesitantly, not sure if she really wanted to know.

He looked her straight in the eyes and said simply, "No, not this time."

He could tell instantly that she believed him. "Stay here!" she said vehemently.

"No, they would look here, probably soon. Rufus was there tonight, and he knows about you. I'm not sure he's all that interested in seeing the truth come out."

"I see," Cordelia said slowly. "But where will you go? What will you do? . . . . Oh god! I sound like Scarlett O'Hara," she laughed.

He smiled at her, seemingly relaxing for the first time since he arrived. "I don't know, and I shouldn't tell you anyway. If the Ministry comes here to question you, they have ways of causing you to divulge whatever you know. It will be much better for both of us if you don't know much at all about where I'm going or what my plans are. Okay?"

"Thanks for coming here first then . . . before you disappear," Cordelia said as the full realisation of what he was driving at hit home with her.

"I knew you wouldn't take it too well if I just up and left, and it might be as much as a day or so before they connect you to me." He drew her into his arms. "Thank you for being here. I really don't want to go through this again." There was an edge of exhaustion in his voice as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Do you have to leave right now?" she asked.

"I should leave before sunrise," he said, thinking that he desperately needed to feel her warmth next to him as he thought about the cold caves of Scotland or worse . . . the cold of Azkaban.

He pulled her close and ran his lips down her throat. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him as she unbuttoned his shirt. His whole body shivered as she ran her hands lightly over his chest and back. He slid off her pajamas and stretched out next to her on the bed. Their kisses were becoming more intense. Knowing he might need to savor this memory for some time, he tried to be very slow and very conscious of every touch, every kiss, every caress. But this became impossible as he wanted to touch her everywhere at once. He wanted to reach that core of warmth that made the world go away. . . .

Later, Sirius found himself at a very large formal party. It appeared to be a wedding. At first, he thought it was James and Lily's wedding, but then he realised that he was in fact at Harry's wedding. Harry, however, looked surprised to be there and kept asking who the bride was. As they turned and looked down the aisle, the bride appeared to be Hermione, but as she approached them, Harry took Ginny's hand instead and Hermione was left standing there between him and Harry. Sirius began to look for Cordelia. He kept glimpsing her and then losing her in the crowd. He tried to go where she was, but she kept moving. He finally reached her, took her by the hand and led her into a cave. As he was turning to kiss her, he realised with a panic that she had morphed into a dementor. As he screamed, he sat up and realised he'd been having a nightmare. He saw Cordelia wake with a start and shrink back towards the corner of the bed.

He was shaking all over, and after a number of deep breaths, he drew his knees up and rested his head in his hands, which were propped on his knees. By this time, Cordelia had recovered and nestled up beside him, rubbing his back, stroking his hair and whispering that it would all be okay.

"What happened?" she asked gently.

He looked at her for a very long moment, considering whether he should share this particular horror of the wizarding world with her. Then he told her about the dream and the significance of the dementor's kiss. She held him very tightly for a long time. Finally, he broke away. "I'd better get out of here before they come to look for me."

He got up and dressed, and she pulled her robe around her. "I'll keep in touch through Harry. He has a number of owls he can use that won't attract attention to you. Trust him."

"Right." He could see the look of trepidation in her eyes, and they seemed to be getting very watery as he spoke. After one more embrace and very long kiss, he backed away and apparated. She let out a slight gasp; she had thought he'd leave by the door. He'd described apparition to her, but she had never seen him do it. She knew there was nothing she could do at the moment. She tried to get back to sleep, but she could still feel his warmth and smell his scent on the sheets. It gave her a little comfort, but also made her want him even more. She finally drifted off after a really good cry.

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

Monday morning dawned at last, and Cordelia had to face going to work. She'd heard nothing from him or Harry since he left her flat in the dawn of Saturday morning. She needed to drop off some dry cleaning and post a few bills. As she entered the post office, she glanced at the bulletin board and there, front and center, was Sirius. It was the same poster he had shown her. She'd never noticed it before. She wasn't sure if they had put it back up because he was a fugitive again or whether it had always been there but slipped past her attention. With some difficulty, she managed to move past it without screaming or ripping it down. She looked around at the other patrons and felt a sense of unreality creeping back into her stomach, as though she was suddenly a different breed than the rest of the humans around her.

She finally arrived at work, grabbing a large cup of coffee and retreating to her office after instructing her secretary not to disturb her until her first meeting. Her hands were shaking as she collapsed into her desk chair and looked around her office. Of course, now, the pictures and figurines around her office reminded her not of her dog from her childhood but of Sirius. She found this too much to bear at the moment, and grabbing a pad and some files, she fled into a nearby conference room.

She made it through her first meeting and lunch. After lunch, she had an appointment with a solicitor in the human rights division to ask about DNA analysis, a friend from the criminal division had referred her to him as an expert on identifying older remains. She had met him at parties once or twice, and she had confidence he could help her if anyone could. She took the lift up to the 14^th floor of the office building and followed the signs to Suite 1478. Inside, the secretary pointed her to his office.

"Hi, Cordelia," he said as he reached for her hand.

Cordelia smiled and shook his hand. "Hello Mark . . . how's Bridget?"

"She's fine, thanks for asking… what can I help you with?" he asked.

"I have a client that needs some DNA analysis done of some remains. We have a few bone fragments and a dismembered finger. What we are trying to show is that the bones and finger belong to the same individual and that the finger was dismembered long before the bones achieved their defleshed state. What are the best tests to use to get this result?"

"Do you have the bones and the finger with you? I won't ask how either the finger or the bones got into their current state. Are you sure you just want to learn about the tests, or do you need any criminal advice?"

"No, I don't have them yet. Someone else is working that angle for us. And, no, I just need to know about the testing. You wouldn't believe the story even if I could explain it to you."

"Do you know anything about how these bones died?" he asked

"Hmm . . . I know he told me. Let me think . . . ," she paused as she tried to recall that part of the conversation that incredible night. Her eyes brightened as she remembered. "Actually, the body was, in effect, cremated," she told him.

"Oh. That's too bad," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Why?" she asked as her heart sank.

"Well, in order to prove what you were hoping to prove through DNA testing, or any other testing for that matter, you need some organic component remaining in the bone. Bone marrow, connective tissue, that sort of thing. If the body's been burned, it's most likely that all such material has been destroyed. You could do an analysis of the finger though I think," he offered.

At this, her stomach flipped over. "No, we already know who the finger belonged to and when it was dismembered. We really needed to connect it to the bones. Is there no way to prove who the bones belonged to or when they died?"

"Not really," he said. "I'm sorry. I take from the look on your face that this was rather crucial."

Cordelia could hardly speak. "Thank you, yes, well . . .right then," she murmured numbly as she got up and left the office. Now her brain was really spinning. Somehow she made it back to her office. She shut the door and leaned against it. She was taking very deep breaths trying to hold herself together. "I've got to see Harry about this. I hope to God he knows what can be done. Sirius said to trust him."

She quickly gathered her briefcase and her coat. She told her secretary she had an emergency and would be back tomorrow, then headed for the Tube to Shepherd's Bush. The whole time she was thinking, "Good God, what have I done? How could I have been so stupid! This is all my fault! If I had only known something about DNA testing before shooting off my mouth, Sirius wouldn't be in this mess. Damn!"