After the Storm.

Curtains moved in the breeze from the open window. Harry got out of bed and promptly tripped over an empty bucket that had been left beside the bed.

Damn, thought Harry, picking himself up from the floor, why do people drink?

He certainly didn't intend to.

Not again.

At least he hadn't been sick in the bedroom, just the bathroom.

And then Snape had found him.

And had been amused.

Git, thought Harry as he put on his old hand-me-down jeans and a stained and worn oversize t-shirt. Barefoot, he wandered downstairs to face the music.

'Hi, Harry, are you alright?' Jane looked sympathetic.

'Sorry.'

'For what? I hated that dinner service and Miranda loathed it. Now I've every excuse to buy a new one.'

Harry had a vague impression of cascading crockery.

Snape has told him to wash up and he'd tried. 'Oh, no.' Harry put his hand to his face.

'It's ok, although Tonks did say that she felt that you were usurping her prerogative.' Harry looked at Jane through his fingers. 'Breaking things,' she explained reasonably.

Tonks had helped him up the stairs last night.

He tried to sit down and was seized by the arm and dragged into the kitchen. 'You need to eat something,' said Jane, obviously prepared to brook no argument. 'Although, actually, you don't look that bad.'

'I'm fine. Snape gave me something for the hangover.'

'Acting like a reasonable human being, again. He's going to have to watch that,' said Tonks who was sitting at the table, with Harry's first year Dark Arts textbook open on the table in front of her, drinking tea.

Jane flicked at her with a folded tea towel. 'You're just jealous because you didn't get any.'

'I wasn't drunk.'

'So what is your excuse then?'

Tonks smirked and took another sip of her tea. 'I'll have another of those bacon and mushroom butties,' she said hopefully.

'Can I help?' asked Harry.

'Yes. Stay out of the way. You can help me cook the dinner tonight. And then we'll see how Tonks gets on with the washing up.'

Harry sat down.

'Perhaps we should buy some more plates first,' suggested Tonks, but Harry didn't laugh. He was remembering what had happened after he had spilt the pile of dishes.

Snape had stood up preparing, no doubt, for some blistering attack that had never been realised. The sight of the "boy who lived" in tears was, apparently, enough to silence even him.

Tonks had put her arm around his shoulders and led him out of the kitchen. 'I miss him too,' she had said quietly. 'He saved my life. If he hadn't been there, we'd probably have lost the battle before Professor Dumbledore arrived. Instead we won.' Her voice had sounded strange. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe her own tears away with her hands and then she had put her arms around him. Unable even to begin to find words to express the turmoil within him, Harry had said nothing, but hugged her back. Eventually she had pushed him away. 'Come on you. Bed.' Then she had seen him to his room and told him goodnight.

'Was it you who left the bucket?' Harry asked Tonks shamefacedly.

'Better safe than sorry,' she replied. 'I've been worse.'

Harry doubted it, but he felt unwilling to talk about Sirius and unable to talk about anything else, and so he sat in silence. When Jane put his breakfast in front of him, he was rather surprised to find that he actually wanted it. He managed a lopsided smile. 'Thank you,' he said.

Jane sat down beside him and continued an involved discussion of Arithmancy with Tonks. Face bright with interest, Jane was asking questions while Tonks spoke between bites of her sandwich but, even without a mouthful of food, whatever she was saying was incomprehensible. When Tonks had finished eating, she and Jane rose and took their dishes to the sink. 'It's ok,' said Harry, 'I'll get them when I wash mine.'

'Ta, Harry.' said Tonks and she and Jane went into the garden.

Harry had finished washing the breakfast dishes and was cleaning the sink when Jane came back in with one end of an extension wire. "What's that for?" he asked.

"Cutting the grass." She plugged in the wire and disappeared back into the garden. Harry fetched his socks and boots, put them on and then followed. As Jane plugged in a strimmer, Harry picked up the machine itself. Jane grinned and got out of the way.

It took over an hour and, by the time that they had finished cutting and clearing the grass, Harry was sweating. He took off his shirt and enjoyed the feeling of sun and wind on his bare shoulders. Turning towards the house he was startled to see Snape by the glass doors, watching. For a few moments Harry and Snape stared at one another, Snape's expression entirely unreadable but, as the professor turned to go back into the house, Harry realised that Snape's wand was in his hand.

Back in his room, Harry began to read the first of his books on meditative techniques. While, rather to his surprise, he was not particularly angry about the Legilimency to which he was sure that he that had been subjected, he was coldly determined to prevent further incursions.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A furry triangular battering ram hit Harry squarely between the eyes. 'Meugh! Mreeowll!' The battering ram was reapplied forcefully and twisted.

Harry sat back fast and straightened his glasses. He had not been aware that cats could be quite so expressive. Or imperative. Hedwig wanted her lunch. Now or, preferably, ten minutes ago.

'Ok girl, let's go and see what we can find.' Harry got up and followed Hedwig down to the kitchen where he found Tonks making sandwiches. 'Hedwig's hungry,' he told her.

'I think I saw a tin of sardines somewhere. In there I think' Tonks indicated a large built in larder.

'Try the top shelf.' Jane had come into the kitchen from the garden. 'I've put a blanket down, we can have lunch outside.'

Tonks drew her wand 'Acc . . .sorry.'

Jane pulled a chair over and stood on it. She found the sardines and tossed them to Harry. 'Perhaps we can do some more shopping tomorrow,' she suggested, dropping neatly back down to the floor, 'and she can have some chicken for supper. Will she eat raw mince, d'you think?'

'She usually hunts for herself,' Harry explained. 'I think she'd be all right with mince though. Why didn't you use a spell?' Harry turned to Tonks.

'Well, we're hiding as muggles,' she replied. The wards hide the use of magic but they're drawing energy from Snape and it's tending to make him irritable.'

Briefly, Harry considered Snape not being irritable. It seemed unlikely.

'And magic eventually disrupts muggle technology. And it's likely to be some time before I'm sufficiently competent to manage without it,' said Jane, 'even if I wanted to. Hey you!' Hedwig had sprung up onto the table and seized the cheese. She bounced down from the table and disappeared, like a furry rocket, through the back door. 'Do cats like cheese?' mused Jane.

'Do owls like cheese?' asked Tonks, amused.

'She likes bacon, but she doesn't usually just take stuff.' Harry was embarrassed.

'Well she's not usually a cat and she's probably hungry. She might not have caught anything last night.' Jane took the sardines from Harry, opened the can and forked the contents into a dish, which she put down on the floor along with another full of water.

'I should have thought of that.' Guilt assailed Harry. How could he have been so stupid as to forget about Hedwig?

'Relax. She's a cat. If she's unhappy, or if she wants something, you'll know all about it.' Jane threw the empty tin in the bin.

'Yes, but I should have thought . . .'

'No harm done.' Tonks put her arm around his shoulders. Which, of course, made it worse.

If he had only thought. If he had thought to tell Snape what he had seen, Sirius would still be alive. He pulled away from Tonks and utter misery possessed him. 'Sorry,' he mumbled, turning to leave.

'No.' Tonks pulled out a chair. 'Sit down Harry.' Harry sat. Tonks the Auror was someone to be obeyed.

She sat down opposite him and considered him for a few moments. 'Harry, you are not responsible for Sirius' death. You did not kill him. Bellatrix did. Sirius loved you. He could not have been prouder of you. Especially when Professor Snape told us that he believed that you had gone to the Chamber of Mysteries to rescue him.'

Resting her chin upon her hands, Tonks allowed the aura of command to drop from her. 'We . . . we just didn't believe that you'd gone to the Department of Mysteries. Couldn't see how you'd get there. But Sirius was all for going after you on his own, if we wouldn't. So we agreed. Snape tried to persuade him to stay to warn Dumbledore,' she looked into his eyes, 'but Harry, nothing on this Earth could have stopped him coming after you. He just pointed out, quietly, that we were likely to be outnumbered and asked Snape to search the Forbidden Forest for you.' Her forehead slid down onto her hands. 'When we found you at the Ministry he was . . . almost exultant, like some big kid on a day out. I heard that he was laughing, taunting Bellatrix.' Again Harry saw Sirius falling and closed his eyes. He heard the scrape of Tonks chair and felt her hands on his shoulders. When she spoke again her voice was gentle but firm. 'He'd be bloody annoyed if he thought that you were blaming yourself, so don't.'

'I could have done more. I could have tried harder to study Occlumency.'

'And succeeded?' The strange note was back in Tonks' voice. 'What if Sirius really had been captured? And you'd not known? Sometimes there just aren't any right answers Harry. I only know that he . . . It did not occur to him to blame you. He was proud of you. For Sirius, you did the right thing. That you loved him enough to take on Voldemort himself . . . I mean it Harry, let it go.

'I should have remembered that Snape was part of the Order.'

'But you didn't.' Tonks sighed and her hands left his shoulders. 'When I was growing up Sirius was like my big brother. I . . . work for an organisation that locked up and tortured an innocent man. For twelve years. Despite seeing all of the reports concerning his committal to Azkaban, what I didn't see was that the case for the prosecution was not so much flawed as non-existent. If you want to blame someone, blame me. I just didn't see it - didn't think that we could be so wrong.' Tonks walked to the open door and, arms wrapped around herself, stood gazing out of it. 'Snape says that Aurors and Death Eaters have a lot in common. He said . . . there's the same sort of arrogance: people believing themselves superior to everyone else and above the law. I think he was overstating it but . . . Sirius should never have been sent to Azkaban. You should not have had to grow up with the Dursleys. The Ministry, the Order . . . Sirius refused to blame us but we let you both down, Harry. I'm sorry.'

'You could only have been . . .'

'Your age, Harry. At least you went after him. I wish . . . I wish to God that I had. Instead of believing everything I was told.'

There was a curious rigidity to the way Tonks was standing and, with a sudden compassion, Harry realised that she was struggling to keep control. Rather unsteadily, he got to his feet. 'Not your fault.' Even as he said it, he wondered if it was true, but there was absolutely no point in trying to make her feel worse.

Harry glanced back to where Jane stood, appalled, her gaze shifting from one to the other. She gave him a look of mute appeal. Unsure of what she wanted, Harry shook his head. Jane went to put her arms around Tonks. 'Shh,' she murmured, pulling Tonks' head down into her shoulder. Her wide, dark eyes gazed back into Harry's, and then they closed.

Harry went back to his room and lay down on the bed, and tried, very hard, to clear his mind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry awoke to a gentle tapping on the door. 'What is it?' He opened his eyes to find that it was still daylight.

'Supper.' Tonks' voice, sounding rather subdued.

Harry washed his face and then went downstairs to eat a quiet supper with Tonks, Jane and Snape. Afterwards, unasked, he washed the dishes and was putting them away when he heard a resounding crash from the lounge.

'Where is it?' Jane, clad in her biking gear, was addressing Snape. Behind her the door was still swinging slightly. She looked angry and faintly ridiculous.

'Where is what?' With an air of contrived boredom, Snape put down the book he had been reading.

'My motorbike.' Her knuckles were white on the chin piece of her helmet.

'Where you left it I would suppose. Did you look carefully?'

Jane spun round and went back out. When she returned she was holding what looked like a toy motorbike in one hand. 'May I point out,' she said carefully, 'that perhaps the most important part of your Contract with Miranda was your promise never to use magic to resolve an argument?'

'Indeed.' Snape stood up, folded his arms and gave Jane a nasty, anticipatory smirk. 'Given that, according to the Internet sites I visited last night, the minimum age for riding a motorbike in this country is seventeen, I must ask if you really believe that Miranda would have accorded you such permission?'

Jane managed to look both shifty and annoyed. 'Perhaps.'

'Oh? I think not,' murmured Snape silkily, 'and therefore, there can be no argument.' He gazed at Jane for a moment and then asked coldly, 'How did you obtain the vehicle?'

Harry was glad that he was not the one answering questions. Jane froze and then shrugged. 'Bought it second hand.'

Snape waited until she gave in. 'I was wearing the gear, had the money in my pocket. People believe what suits them.' She gave Snape a defiant look. 'Still,' she continued, 'it shouldn't be too difficult to change it back.'

This, thought Harry, from someone who's just learnt her first spell.

'Certainly not.' Snape's smile had acquired a strong component of malicious pleasure. 'Once you have removed the curses.'

'What sort of curses?'

'Nothing trivial, you may be assured.'

Jane's fingers had begun to twitch. She turned to Tonks.

'Probably easier to get a new bike,' advised Tonks. 'Although you might end up with a small collection.'

Jane rocked back on her heels, gave her father a particularly filthy glare and then, saying nothing, went upstairs. Steel-toed boots thought Harry. Even so she was managing to make a surprising amount of noise.

'Now what?' asked Tonks.

'Usually music, played excessively loudly. Joan Baez for the main part. While she did not believe that I was a wizard, Jane appeared to have no such difficulty with regard to my being a member of a right wing death squad.' Calmly, Snape poured himself a glass of Scotch.

'What are you going to do?' asked Tonks.

'Sit on the beach and pretend that I care.' Snape took his glass of whisky away down the garden. From upstairs there came the sound of music played at extreme volume. Tonks cocked a doubtful ear to the ceiling, poured a glass for herself and then followed Snape. Harry went to finish clearing up in the kitchen.

Actually Harry found the music enjoyable, if rather loud. He finished cleaning and then went upstairs to find Jane sitting at the computer. She glanced at him and then, blushing, turned down the volume. 'Sorry, Harry.' He sat down next to her.

'Joan Baez?' asked Harry.

'This track's Joan Osborne. Baez doesn't seem to be having the required effect. I think the sod's actually starting to enjoy it. Supercilious, smug . . .'

'You're trying to annoy him?' Harry was dumfounded. 'Why?'

'Because I can.' She looked embarrassed. 'Actually I bought the bike because he's been trying so hard, and so obviously, to be reasonable. I wondered what he'd do if I did something he really couldn't live with.' Jane picked up the miniaturised motorbike. 'I guess I found out.' She put the bike back on the desk. 'So, what's he doing now?'

'Sitting on the beach with a glass of scotch.'

'Ah, and Tonks?'

'Same thing,' replied Harry. What are you doing?'

'Downloading some music from the Internet.'

'How d'you do that?' Harry had, of course, heard of computers but had had very little experience of them.

'How much do you know about computers?'

'Nothing.'

She smiled. 'It's easy.' Jane dragged her own chair out of the way. 'Sit so you can use the keyboard comfortably.'

When Jane finally stretched and stood up, Harry was surprised to discover that a couple of hours had passed. 'Something I want to see on the box,' she told him. Downstairs there was no sign of Snape or Tonks and, when the program finished, almost an hour after that they had still not appeared.

'Put the kettle on Harry. I'll go and see if the lovebirds want a cup.' Harry's jaw dropped. 'What?' said Jane, mischief lighting up her face.

'I'll put the kettle on,' said Harry firmly, 'but then I think I'm going to bed.'

'Come on Harry. Three hours they've been out there. Assuming they haven't actually murdered each other, this should be amusing.'

'Goodnight Jane.'

'Goodnight Harry, sleep well.' He watched as she bounced down the steps and across the darkened lawn. A bat flitted across the pool of light from the windows. Harry could hear an owl and the sound of the sea grinding pebbles on the beach. Other than that it was quiet, the traffic noise that never really stopped at Privet Drive completely absent, and then he could hear the murmur of voices from the beach. He closed the door and went to switch on the kettle.

'If you stay out of his way, he'll probably stay out of yours,' Jane had said. Perhaps it was time to give the Potions Master some space.

Harry lay in his darkened room, listening to music from downstairs and watching the blue night beyond the window. Eventually the music stopped and he heard Snape come up the stairs. As the hours passed and stars rose in the sky, Harry's heart ached and he wondered, bitterly, why something as simple as this quiet night could not have belonged to himself and Sirius.