Promises Defended

Promises Defended

Chapter Eighteen: Unfamiliar Returns

"Three injured, none serious, and zero dead," he declared, striding easily through the door and talking as he came. Fudge and Umbridge looked up, startled, giving him that Seeker-before-the-Bludger-hits stare and blubbering incoherently. Neither quite managed to digest what he'd said before Sirius continued.

"Hogwarts is free," he said jubilantly. "The Death Eaters have fled. Voldemort was nowhere in sight."

That was a fact that didn't seem nearly as important to Fudge as it should have, or as significant as it was to Sirius. Of course they didn't understand. No, those two would only contemplate the political side.

"You took the Aurors to Hogwarts?" Fudge snapped incredulously.

Sirius seated himself in a high backed, royal purple armchair; it was gaudy as hell and constructed to look more expensive than actual cost. The mid-afternoon sun also reflected badly off of the upholstery, making the office look even more ghastly. "Yes. I did."

And he didn't come out to meet me, which means he's got something better planned.

"Wh--why?" Umbridge gaped, and then regained her composure, reddening with anger and embarrassment. "You could have doomed everything with such a reckless and--"

"But I didn't. We won."

Sirius smiled at Fudge's angry and dumbfounded expression. Why, you ask? he thought with a touch of amusement--but only a touch. As bait, in part, but mostly because it had to be done. Still, we all do what we have to do.

What was it that Remus told him Trelawney had said? The dark end approaches. Then so be it. He'd find a way to bend prophecy to his terms--but that was for later. For now, Hogwarts was safe, and that was all that mattered.

"You can't do such a thing!" Fudge snarled.

"I just did." There was no laughter left in his grim reply.

"You blatantly disregarded my orders, my authority!" the Little Fool shouted, not seeming to believe his ears. "I explicitly told you not to take the Aurors to Hogwarts--what would have happened if you failed? How many would have--"

"We won, if I may interject," he said neutrally.

"And if we didn't? Winning doesn't matter. How many would have died if you failed? It wasn't worth the risk, not by far, and you knew that."

"I disagree," Sirius replied flatly. "People die in war, Minister. It happens. Sometimes, we're merely lucky enough that those who dare are those who choose to: warriors and not victims."

"You're insane."

"Quite possibly," he replied with all seriousness. "But at least I know which category I fall in, Fudge. I'm not sure about you, save that you aren't a victim...and you're not willing to fight."

"I believe in peace!" the Minister objected, growing redder.

Sirius smiled, surprised at how sad he felt all of a sudden. "So do I. Does that surprise you?" But will peace come in my lifetime? I no longer know. "But I also understand what needs to be done."

"Not in my Ministry, you don't!" Fudge growled. "I make those decisions. Not you."

"More's the pity." Sirius shrugged. "So fire me."

Umbridge's eyes went wide with shock. "Hem, hem--"

"If you force my hand, the world will hate you by the time I am through with you," the Minister threatened. "You will be seen as the biggest villain since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the man who abandoned the Wizarding world when they needed him most--the man who could have ended the war in one stroke, if only he had the courage to do so!"

Sirius gaped, caught off guard. "I?"

"And you know it," Fudge said viciously; Sirius still stared, more shocked than angry, not having thought Fudge would reach so far. "For a man who talks so often of ending the war, you haven't done a thing to make it happen. You know what it would take. Coward."

"Coward?" Sirius' blood burned up to a boil without warning. "You're calling me a coward?"

Fudge smiled smugly. "For months you have pretended that sacrificing one man would not be in the world's best interest, but now the truth comes out, doesn't it? You fear him."

"You are mine, Sirius." Surprisingly gentle fingers brushed hair away from his eyes; Sirius had not the strength to pull away.

"We both know it," Voldemort continued softly. "But you, and you alone, can choose your terms. I extend this honor to no other--but you I respect. And should you join me, you will be more than the others."

The hand came down on his left arm, a few inches above the Mark. Just as a reminder. Voldemort whispered directly in his ear. "After all, there must be some reward for fighting me all these years."

Sirius shivered, finding his voice with an effort. "I fear him no more than any other wizard, and far less than most." His voice sounded distant in his own ears. If only because I know him better than the rest of them combined.

"Of course you don't," Fudge sneered. "That's why you refuse to go."

"It's not that simple," Sirius objected emptily, still trying to work his way clear of the memory.

"Isn't it?"

"Ten years, Sirius. Today makes ten years. Your friends might love you, but they think you are dead. What will you do when they leave you for another ten?"

He shuddered then.

He shuddered now. But the words snapped him back into reality.

"You haven't listened, have you?" he asked after too long of a pause. Be careful, Sirius! "I've been telling you the truth for months--and I know Voldemort. He won't honor any deal you make with him. He doesn't want peace."

"You're afraid to go back," Fudge gloated. "Even for the world you 'want' to save so badly."

"That's easier for you to think, isn't it?" he countered, regaining his stride a little. "Fear has nothing to do with it. Doing so would be foolish--d'you want to play right into his hands?"

"That's hardly the point," Umbridge interjected.

"It is, you know," he replied, shaking in rage. He shouldn't let his temper out, and Sirius knew it. But it was too late to spin down. He could only hope to keep a modicum of control. "Because the concessions wouldn't end here."

"So? The war ending is worth mere concessions," the other snapped importantly. "Even you."

"What if he demanded an innocent? What if it was a child, a bystander? Would you sacrifice them, too?" Sirius demanded, bile rising in his throat.

"Of course I would! The safety of the entire world outweighs any one life!" And the fool believed it, too.

"And how many would you sacrifice, Fudge, before the end?"

"As many as it takes!"

Steel in his voice. "I will not go. I will not let you destroy everything we have fought for during the last twenty-two years. I am not such a fool to believe he will keep his word."

"You're a coward!" Fudge shrieked.

"Call me what you will. At least I do not cower behind human shields when hard choices must be made."

"You'll ruin us! Mark my words, you will ruin us!" The smaller man's voice grew higher and higher with every word. "I know you will!"

He felt cold. Helpless. So angry that he could barely move. And in a flash, he understood things that he'd never understood before. Is this why you chose this road, Tom Marvolo Riddle? Because of narrow minded and little men who could not even manage to help themselves? Sirius shivered, stared at Fudge. The silent vow rose unbidden. I will not go so far. You might have, Tom Riddle. He would, and will if I let him. But I will never sink so far.

"Then I can no longer be a part of this." Sirius rose. "And I must leave. I would recommend a successor, but I don't think you would listen."

There was nothing left to do.

He walked out.

-----------

"I can't believe we turned them over to the Ministry," Tonks said irritably, kicking at loose rocks.

"Why not?" Bill replied. "I would think your family understood dirty political maneuvering better than most."

She scowled, her pretty face half-morphing into something grotesque and sharp-edged. "We try not to associate with them too much."

"Even Sirius?"

"Sirius is different," Tonks conceded, still frowning. But his student was a single-minded witch. "Tell me why."

"Because we want to see what Fudge will do. Alice and Sirius talked it over before Sirius went in this afternoon...we all kind of knew what would happen with that."

"Yeah." Tonks grimaced. They'd expected him to be fired, not to quit, but the end result was the same. And so were the reasons.

The Aurors had raided Hogwarts in the dead of night, slipping past wards to which Remus Lupin had given them the deepest keys. Fast and silent, they'd slain four Death Eaters almost without a fight--unfair, to be sure, but Aurors were not trained to be fair. Rules were made to be broken, and when Sirius had ordered them to take no prisoners, Alice and Frank Longbottom had still availed themselves of opportunity and pulled off the coup of the century. Sirius, ever flexible of mind, had just laughed. And commended them.

Of course, now came the downside of initiative. Had Frank and Alice slain their surprised opponents, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange would not be in Ministry hands, and the Aurors would not be wondering how long they'd stay there. Like the others, Bill had made his own private estimations, and already shared them with his student. Ironically enough, Tonks agreed--as much as she despised politics, she understood.

"It just seems so wasteful," she continued angrily. "Especially since we know what Fudge will do--what Voldemort will push him to do. All in the name of peace."

"There's always an outside chance that he'll do the right thing," Bill pointed out with a shrug.

"Yeah, way outside," Tonks snorted.

Bill sighed. "Something like that."

And that's why we've already notified the press of their capture. The two Aurors exchanged a knowing glance. The capture of the Lestranges had made headlines--every major publication ran their pictures on the front page, along with speculation about what exactly the Ministry planned on doing with the two longtime Death Eaters. Some demanded their deaths, and others far worse fates--but the Aurors remained aloof. They were waging a different kind of war, now, and it wasn't the one the world needed them to win--but damnit if things weren't that messed up, and they didn't have a choice.

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He'd asked to come back alone, and while neither Peter nor James had wanted Remus to take such a risk, they'd agreed to give him the first hour. He was grateful for both the concession and their worry, but Remus needed this hour. He needed to spend the time alone with his battered and tainted school, needed to watch the sun sink towards the horizon and simply feel. There was no other way to return save alone. He had to know what had changed...and what hadn't.

"I thought you'd come here first," Snape said quietly, approaching. Remus stood in the front entranceway, breathing the old smell in deep and letting the Font flow through him. It was a good feeling--a safe feeling--a home feeling.

He smiled slightly. "You know me too well."

"I suppose." Snape shrugged, seeming uncomfortable. "When will they return?"

"In a few days." Remus' eyes traveled along the walls as the two strolled towards the Great Hall side by side. Hogwarts had weathered occupation remarkably well, but then again, the school was ageless and more accepting than one might expect. She'd been home to Slytherin once, too, Remus remembered. And to Severus Snape. She'll always be home to him.

Odd how two such different men could love the same place so much, and in the same way.

"I am glad," the other said softly.

"Me, too."

The halls were eerily quiet without students present. Even the ghosts were gone for now.

They entered the Great Hall in silence, and Remus blinked in surprise. Everything was almost exactly as he recalled, from the centerpiece on the head table to the weather in the ceiling. Bright and blue--this was a beautiful day.

"You did this," he whispered, feeling overwhelmed. Remus glanced at Severus in surprise.

Another self-conscious shrug. "I had to do something."

"Thank you."

Severus grunted.

"You know, in a slightly different world, you might have been me."

Tight pale features. Two clasped hands.

"And had things been just a little different...I might have been you."

Another tense nod.

"Good luck," Snape said, his dark eyes distant. "May it end tonight."

Remus blinked. A long moment passed before he could shake himself free of the vision--rarely did what the Font produced come so close to reality. Yet Snape was standing in front of him.

His hand ran gently over the back of Dumbledore's chair--his chair. Funny how he couldn't remember walking here, touching it. The chair felt somehow dark, a bit tainted...but still Hogwarts'. Still his. For once, the silence was sweet. He was home.

"I apologize for what happened," Severus said gruffly, suddenly. "For...everything."

Being at Hogwarts could make Remus smile. "You did what you had to do," he replied easily. "I always understood that."

"You probably shouldn't." A bitter edge made Severus' voice sharp.

"Why not?"

His companion shot him a sideways look. "I stabbed you in the back, Remus."

"I know," he sighed. "But you'd have died if you didn't, and it turned out all right in the end." Except for the murdered students, Remus thought but could not say. Severus would blame himself, and those deaths were not his fault. Voldemort would have found a way to take the school no matter what, and dozens more would have died if Severus had not started the evacuation when he had. Remus shrugged slightly. "What's done is done."

"True."

And now for the words he hated to say.

"You must leave this place."

Remus turned to face his companion squarely, seeing the acceptance in his eyes. Severus swallowed hard, but nodded. The word seemed to come very hard. "Yes."

"Today."

Pain flashed across Severus' face, and Remus desperately wanted to say something different. Something softer.

"So soon?" came the tight response.

"You and I both know that there is no other choice," he said gently. "But not quite yet... We have time."

"Time? Time for what?"

"Time enough." Remus started walking. "Come with me."

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Her first meeting with Fudge's motley collection of Ministers was not going well. For that matter, her first three days as Fudge's Minister of Magical Law Enforcement had not gone well, but that was to be expected. She hadn't wanted the job, anyway, and would have refused the post had that been an option. Unfortunately, her sense of duty would not let her do so--and nor would Frank. However, Alice could easily see why Sirius had been half-eager to be fired.

The preliminaries (mostly pointless pleasantries) had taken close to an hour, and then Fudge's rant about Ministers disregarding his orders (namely Aurors) took the better part of two more. Then someone--Patil?--had started babbling on about the progress peace talks were making (what peace talks? Voldemort refused to consider peace without "sacrifice"). He talked about concord between nations and hope for the future...the drivel made Alice sick. She wanted peace as much as the next witch, but these political idiots were lying to themselves. Alice would have given anything for Neville to grow up in a world without war...but first they had to win that war.

So she sat, stony-faced, waiting for the morons to shut up. Alice had yet to say a word beyond a gruff "good morning," and she didn't plan on changing tactics, either. Let the others talk. She wouldn't waste the time or the oxygen. Brooding was preferable to this.

Another two hours passed in this manner, and then another. Afternoon warped into evening, and her stomach rumbled. The idiots had forgotten lunch, too, due to their important business. Trying to distract herself, Alice turned her mind to real work. The Aurors would have pulled out of Hogwarts by now, and Remus Lupin returned. Also, by now Sirius must have left Avalon, fading into the mist again...but this time with a bit more warning to those who fought beside him. Fudge would not find him--

Oh, is that what he's ranting about now? she wondered, hardly amused. How appropriate.

The Aurors certainly wouldn't give him up, and Alice only shrugged in response to Fudge's snarled question. The man really wasn't that threatening.

And the damn meeting went on.

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...so don't miss the Weird Sisters in concert on February 28^th, sponsored by your very own WWWonders, Channel Seven on the Wizarding Wireless! This will be a very special concert dedicated to the families of war victims on both sides, and tickets are running out fast! Remember, the Weird Sisters, live in concert in Diagon Alley on February 28^th!

"Welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This is Marcy Morales--"

"--And Lucas Dummingston--"

"With today's edition of Wonder Talk. As usual, questions have been submitted via Floo and randomly drawn. What's today's first question, Lucas?"

He cleared his throat. "It's a simple question, really, though asked by a clear majority of our listeners. As the entire Wizarding World is now aware, Sirius Black has once again disappeared. So far, he has been gone for just over three days, which brings back frightening memories of his seventy-three day disappearance, when the world shivered in fear without the one man we depend upon to shield us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Marcy squeaked. Lucas continued:

"This departure apparently follows a major falling out with Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, who refuses to comment. Alice Longbottom is now the Minister for Magical Law Enforcement and the Head of the Auror Division, but where has Black gone? And what does he plan?"

"That's not really an easy question to answer, Lucas. Sources indicate that Black's close friends know where he his, though none are willing to say where. I believe that it is safe to bet that he hasn't gone far; if time has proven anything, it is that Sirius Black will always be there when we need him."

"I agree, Marcy, but most of our listeners surely want to know what to think about Minster Fudge's allegations. More than once, he has implied that Black has harmed the war effort, going so far as to call Black cowardly--"

"I do find that very hard to believe, especially of Sirius Black. However, what Fudge is implying, vague though his comments are, sounds serious. Why don't we put the question to our listeners? Is the famed Auror Sirius Black a coward in disguise? And if so, what traitorous act has he committed?"

"Call in to WWWonders on the Floo to respond. Floorators are standing by for your answers."

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The bell tinkled gently as he opened the door, but Sirius slipped by it silently, brushing past a grinning little boy who was on his way out the door. The sandy-haired miniwizard clutched the latest version of Hobson's Junior Wizarding Chess Set to his chest, grinning and giggling--what was it about kids and new toys? Sirius smiled slightly and stepped inside Pendulum Games.

Tucked behind a Muggle menswear shop and invisible to the ordinary Muggle eye, Pendulum Games was the most successful Wizarding shop located outside of designated commercial areas like Diagon Alley. Right in the heart of Muggle London, one had to know where the store was to find it, but everyone who was anyone bought their chess sets at Pendulum Games. Sirius had grown up being dragged to the place--Regulus had loved it--and remembered the owner well. Mr. Bishop. The Wizarding World's widely renowned chess expert. He was simply the best.

"Sirius Black," came the familiar voice. "Not quite the man I expected early on a Tuesday morning."

"You were waiting for someone else?" he inquired.

"Not yet."

Sirius smiled. "Good." He finally released the door, letting it click shut behind him. "Then I was wondering if I might take a moment of your time?"

"Of course. What can I do for you?" Bishop replied politely, watching Sirius with unexpected care.

"I'm looking for something."

A mysterious smile. "Most men are."

"True." Sirius nodded slightly in acknowledgement, stepping closer to the counter. The shop was empty, save for the two wizards. "But I'm looking for something unique," he continued. "A balance between light and dark."

"Chess pieces do not come in gray," Bishop replied gravely.

"The world is not a chess board. Nor are men."

Bishop chuckled. "I might disagree and say that a chess game is an excellent analogy for our world--but I digress. You are implying something." His eyes twinkled. "You'd best get on with the conversation before I lose interest."

"Not likely."

"You think not?" One steel gray eyebrow rose.

"Not yet, anyway," Sirius said easily. "Or at least not if you are the man you once were."

"And who do you think I was?" Bishop asked playfully, but Sirius did not miss the fact that the older wizard had straightened slightly and was watching him with something different in his eyes. The amusement remained, but buried beneath the laughter was a lurking darkness, a dangerous knowledge.

"Dietfried Grindelwald."

"Really?" Bishop laughed again. The darkness vanished beneath the amusement as though it had never been there, but Sirius wasn't the sort to sit and wonder if he'd been seeing things. He knew hew wasn't wrong--and that he could not afford to be.

Sirius kept his voice quiet. There was no need to shout. "Yes."

"A dangerous accusation." Brown eyes studied him very closely now. "Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald years ago."

"Defeated, not killed."

"That is the same thing, is it not?"

"Not by far."

-----------

"You're crazy."

A deep and irritated breath. "Frankly, I don't care what you think," he responded. "An order is an order, and--"

"Absolutely and completely stupid," Alice interjected. "Risky. Wasteful. Idiotic. We can't do it."

Fudge went red. "You will."

"We'll fail," the new head of the DMLE spat. She'd had the job for all of four days and hated it. Sirius was better for this; at least he could bully this little man, who feared Voldemort's bane.

"You will not fail. You will develop a plan and execute. You will make this happen." Fudge puffed up importantly, but there was no give in his eyes. "And we will free Azkaban for the first time in eight years."

"In your dreams," Alice muttered darkly.

"What was that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Never you mind." I sound like Arabella, she thought distantly. I hope she never felt like this! "The point is that such an assault is suicidal. Azkaban is too heavily guarded by Dementors and Death Eaters, especially after their loss of Hogwarts, and--"

"I did not appoint you to your present position to list the problems for me," Fudge interrupted. "I expect solutions."

Jackass.

"There isn't one," Alice grated.

"Then find one!"

"And if we fail?" she demanded. "What then?"

"So what if we fail?" the Minister countered, bright red and almost screeching. "At least the world then knows we tried!"

And that's it, isn't it? She realized emptily. Whatever Sirius said to him, or could say to the public, has him on edge and frightened. And now the Aurors were the only way out he could see. Alice let out a heaving sigh, wishing that she could just hex the idiot on the spot and knowing she couldn't. Still, every word she spoke came out pinched and hard.

"We'll try this, Minister. But only because you are my legal--though hardly elected--superior. But I give no guarantees."

"You'd better," he snapped.

"It's a war, Minister," Alice retorted. "That means that sometimes things happen--isn't that how you've held onto your coveted job? Without an election?"

That shut him up. Fudge glared, but Alice stalked out.

-----------

"What do you want?"

"I came for your help," Sirius replied honestly. "Or for guidance, anyway."

"In what?" he asked.

"You know what I'm doing. I'm sure that you can tell what I've already done. But what I need to know is that which I can't find in books, in journals. I need to know what you know about his transformation...and how I can stop him."

The other chuckled. "A tall order. What makes you think I'll be willing?"

"Because you don't approve of what Voldemort has done."

"Don't I?"

"No." Sirius shook his head. "If you did, you would have joined forces with him long ago."

Long fingers tapped on the countertop. "Are you so sure of that? Upon defeating me, Dumbledore might have just forced me to go forth and do evil no more."

"He wasn't so foolish. Nor were you such a conventional opponent. Neither of you would have been so cliché."

Grindelwald chuckled again. "Too true." The eyes twinkled, danced. "Let's play chess." He gestured to the back room where there was a game already laid out, but the pieces were not at their conventional starting positions.

Sirius paused, thinking fast. He hated chess, though he knew perfectly well how to play--which wasn't to say he was particularly good at the game, despite years' worth of playing with Remus. He was passable, at best, but wasn't quite lunatic enough to enjoy the thought of a match with the man who had nearly destroyed the Wizarding world through his skills at the game.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt a game you've already started," he finally replied.

"Oh, you misunderstand. This is not a game I've started with someone else and am finishing with you. This one is entirely yours, start to finish. You just weren't here for the start," was the nonchalant reply. Unsure if the flash of light in Grindelwald's eye was a twinkle or a darker glitter, Sirius followed cautiously. As the door clicked shut behind him, the other continued:

"My original partner won't be returning to finish the game. Dumbledore's dead, after all. Now the game belongs to you."

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