Shadowing the Stars

The wall was in homage to him.

I knew it wasn't much of a homage, a boxy little office in the back of the Ministry of Magic, a couple of full time Aurors sitting around on our arses all day because we didn't have shit for leads.
But it was something.

I often found myself looking up from my desk, on a hot summers evening, to find those dark eyes looking down on me. Pools of grey, watching my work with their mocking little smile.
Dawlish said that I was obsessed.

Yeah. Maybe I was.

I could see someone hovering outside the door, her silhouette clear in the frosted glass.
"Customers," Dawlish murmured, his voice laced with irony. He heaved himself up from his desk, clutching a Danish pastry in one hand, and opening the door with his other. "Hey, Nymphadora."

Tonks stalked toward my desk, her hair sleeked back from her face, and her eyes a very dark grey.
She's smart, that one.
She sat opposite my desk, crossing her legs. Dawlish and I were shown a flash of a lacy stocking top before she coyly tugged at the hem of her skirt to keep herself decent. I swear Dawlish was salivating over on his chair.
"Any news on Black?" She was practically purring.
"None." I leaned back in my chair, refusing to be put off by her calculated transfiguration of the eyes. They looked like Sirius'.
"Hmm." She bit her red lips with pearly white teeth.
Dawlish spluttered into a coughing fit, muttering something about having to check on his coffee, and then he ran from the room.

Tonks stood, circling her chair to gaze upon the wall.
"All this, and you still can't find him?"
I didn't stand. Standing, for a man in my . . . condition . . . was not advisable.
She seemed to notice this, because she blinked her grey eyes and smiled coolly. "It's almost as though . . ." trailing off, she leaned over my desk. Her shirt was unbuttoned down to the third, and her taste in lace extended to bras too.
Forcing myself to look her in the eyes - those deep, soulful grey eyes - I said, "why are you here, Tonks?"
Sulkily, she stood up, folding her arms over her chest.
Dawlish chose that moment to return, more than a little flushed. "Uh . . . am I interrupting something?" he asked, tugging at the neck of his shirt.
"No." Tonks kept her eyes on me. She blinked, letting long eyelashes fall to her flawless skin. When she opened them again, they were blue. "I'll see you later."

"Wow," Dawlish said when she left. He grinned and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You've got a chance there, mate."
"I'm going to stay and work on this lead."
Dawlish stared at me, his little eyes popping out of his fat head. "You're gonna stay? Kingsley, you're always staying late. We're never gonna find the guy!"
"Do you want Fudge to hear you say that?" I snarled.
"No!" Dawlish looked alarmed. He raised his podgy hands, holding them with their palms facing me. "No, not at all, Shacklebolt."
"You can go." I sipped my cold coffee. "I'll close up."

When Dawlish had finally left I was alone with my obsession. The newspaper clippings fluttered as I walked past them, the pictures of Sirius watched me. I stopped by the coffee machine to get a re-fill, making a mental note to brew a fresh pot tomorrow. This one had been recycled for three days running.
I sat in the dark, the candle had long since snuffed itself out, and stared at the wall. I didn't need light to see it. I knew every article, every pin on every map. I could draw the wall from memory.
The smell of the coffee was nauseating. Bringing the cup up to my mouth I gagged, unable to swallow. I knew I shouldn't, I needed a clear head if Fudge came in, as he often did to check the progress of the man-hunt. Still, despite myself, or perhaps because of myself, I reached into the bottom drawer of my desk to bring out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. There was less in it tonight than there had been last night.
I rinsed out the mug of coffee and poured a liberal serving into my mug.

He was a star. The Dog Star. Magnetic. The witnesses we'd found were always unwilling to speak ill of him. I wondered how he did it.
Was it magic?
No magic that we knew anyway.
He was everything the Ministry hated. And I knew it. Fudge wouldn't want him roaming the streets, even if he hadn't been convicted. Sirius Black was too likeable, he even seemed to have swayed Dumbledore, to hear Fudge tell it.

'You're in charge of this, Shacklebolt. We need him back. No matter what'

I lifted the mug to my lips, but the whisky was gone. My watch said that is was past ten and my stomach grumbled. Molly was cooking at the Order tonight.

With one last look at the wall, I pictured myself bringing Sirius in to Fudge's office.
'Here he is', I'd say. 'Lock him up. Lock him up so that I can stop chasing the stars'.

###

The hallway of Grimmauld Place was dark, like it always was. I stood for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the dusty smell of unwashed carpets. I could see the light peeking out from under the door that led to the kitchen.
"Kinglsey."
He spoke so quietly, his voice low and gravelly.
"Sirius," I murmured.
He put his hand on my shoulder, grinning at me. "Hey. You caught me yet?"
"No." I swallowed roughly.
With another grin, Sirius headed for the kitchen. He was talking amicably, explaining something about Harry coming. That would be why he was in such good spirits then.
Sirius Black left me in the hallway without a second thought. I caught sight of Remus Lupin, waving him into the kitchen to sit with them. I was the one-line joke.

"Hey there, Kingsley," Tonks approached me. Her hair was pink now, and she'd got rid of the tight shirt and short skirt. Her eyes flickered to grey, and she leaned closer to me. "Coming to dinner?"
She glanced sideways to where Sirius had gone.
"I'm not hungry."
"Then," she curled her fingers into the lapels of my jacket, standing on tip-toes. "Should we go upstairs?"
Her eyes were Sirius'. Her hair grew out to be black and shaggy. Her chest flattened and her lips thinned.
"I'll meet you there," I said, my voice husky. "But I need to eat first."

I left her in the hallway.
'Have you caught me yet?'
"No, I haven't, Sirius," I whispered. "But one day . . ."