Disclaimer: I do solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter, or anything remotely recognisable in this story.
Updated: Wednesday 1 November 2006. OK, I know it's a day out, but the weekly family dinner was switched on me...
Prologue
From its humbled beginnings as a penal colony, Australia's wizarding community was extremely small and exclusive. The eastern states, as a whole, were categorically unsettled by magical folk; immigrants preferring to confine themselves to the first free states, in the south-west. Of course, all of Australia's six states and two territories were considered 'free' these days, but some reputations were just harder to shake than others. With their fragile society barely two hundred years old, wizards of this 'new world' kept largely to themselves, seldom venturing to the east coast, let alone keeping abridge of the goings on in Europe.
For Sirius Black, it was the perfect place to hide.
No one had associated the anonymous ransacking of a suburban travel agent with the notorious escaped prisoner. The people of Little Whinging, in Surrey, were of the pessimistic sort who favoured tall tales of insurance fraud and scandal over something a little more… out of the ordinary. Not even Petunia Dursley, who knew firsthand of the existence of magic, could dispute the local police officer's conclusion that it had been an 'inside job' – situations where there were no signs of forced entry simply commanded such conclusions, and there were no two ways around it.
Even Harry Potter, who had overheard his aunt and their neighbour discussing the news whilst he was pruning the privet hedge in the front garden had not suspected that the random disappearance of a few maps and travel documents would reflect on his life in anyway. He did not know that he had been followed home from the train station that year, just as he did not know that the back door of the travel agent's office had a pet flap; a remnant from when the converted building was once a home to a couple who owned a dog.
Little did Harry Potter realise, how wrong he was in his ignorance.
Chapter One: New Beginnings:
The flight had been long. They had stayed over land as much as possible, passing through the arid lands of the middle-eastern deserts and exotic tropics of southern Asia; flying by night and hiding by day. The northernmost settlement Sirius came across in the top end of Australia after island hopping through the remote regions of Indonesia was still a good two days flight from his intended destination. For purposes of anonymity, Sirius not only wanted a place where a foreigner could spend a lot of time without standing out, but he wanted a place where he would not be recognised. With the southern states out of the question due to an established magical community in existence there, and the major capitals along the eastern seaboard more likely to draw tourists – Muggle and magical alike – who would recognise him from the European press; Sirius favoured a destination that attracted members of an international demographic who were least likely to have paid attention to the news.
Touching down on a deserted, sandy beach a couple of hours before dawn, Sirius urged the weary Hippogriff to seek cover under the canopy of the vast rainforest that lined the north Queensland coastline. Pulling a small travel bag full of promotional toiletries from a deep pocket in his ragged robes, Sirius shed his outer layers and headed for a small spring nearby that he'd seen from the air. Without a wand to repair his decrepit prison robes, he discarded them completely, safe in the knowledge that the local climate was temperate enough to warrant their disposal.
Brushing off the knees of his weathered black, prison-issue slacks and settling down on the bank of the freshwater source, Sirius took off his undershirt and soaked it in the water in a vain attempt to clean it before giving up and using it as a washcloth instead. Pulling the small cake of soap and a cheap disposable razor out of the British Airways insignia travel case, the weary wizard washed himself as best he could, it proving spectacularly difficult to remove his beard without a mirror.
Once finished, Sirius had just tied the old shirt up around his head like a bandanna, when he was interrupted by the sound of hooves. Abstractly, the dog Animagus was reminded of another time, another place, where the welcomed sound of hooves once heralded the arrival of his closest friend in the world. This time round, however, the hairs on the back of Sirius' neck stood on end, and when the sound of a woman's voice called out to him, he was immediately on the defensive.
"Hey! You!" the woman on horseback brandished a riding crop in his direction as she approached on horseback. "What do you think you are doing?"
Reminding himself that no one could possibly recognise him here, he put on a game face and dug deep, scavenging for a shred of the affable charisma and charm that had once served him so well with the ladies.
"Uh, taking a bath?" he said sheepishly, grinning lopsidedly… or at least he tried to; it had been so long since he'd had cause to smile that he could well have been leering at the woman.
The woman stared at him for a moment, as though contemplating her next course of action.
"You are contaminating the water!" she informed him, removing her riding helmet from her head and shaking out her curly, light brown hair, which had been clinging to her forehead with sweat. "This is private property – a protected area – and you are trespassing."
Sirius packed the small cake of soap back into its small plastic container and ran a hand over the silty layer of soap scum that now polluted the surface of the water.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking up at the woman with a bewildered expression. "I… I didn't think."
The woman let up, grinning slightly as she combed a hand through her hair before replacing her hat.
"Evidently," she smirked. Noticing the strange man before her begin to sway, his haunted grey eyes staring right through her, she narrowed her eyes and leant forward in her saddle, honey-coloured eyes glinting in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"
Sucking in a deep breath, Sirius blinked up at the woman wearily.
"Tired… so tired," he said in a defeated tone, stumbling forward to lean on a tree beside them. "What… what day is it?"
"Wednesday," the woman said slowly, the wheels turning over in her mind as she took in the man's appearance. "When was the last time you slept in a proper bed? Ate? How did you get here?"
"Flew," said Sirius, the combination of heat, fatigue and having had nobody but a magical creature for company for the past several weeks taking its toll on his social skills. "Got… got lost?"
"You don't sound convinced," said the woman, looking him up and down appraisingly. "You can't have been out here too long, you're as white as a ghost -"
Remembering a line from an old Muggle film he'd once seen with James and Lily what seemed like a lifetime ago, he squinted up at the woman who, despite being shadowed by the early morning sun, Sirius could tell was deeply tanned from years spent outdoors.
"I lost my shirt in a Poker game," he said earnestly, "and my bike… I'm afraid I must have drank too much and passed out. I… I just got up."
The woman scrutinised him for a moment before nodding once briskly.
"Tourist, then?" she said, eying his travel pack and taking stock of his accent. "Pommie, are ya? Thought it'd be a cinch, roaring around oz on a motorcycle, did ya? Skinny runt like you? S'no wonder ya lost ya bike… and let me guess, they fleeced all your gear too and you never caught their names, eh?"
Sirius blinked in disbelief. What had started as a desperate grab at Muggle pop culture to add levity to the situation had soon blossomed into a fully-fledged cover story, and he didn't even have to lift a finger to join the dots together. He didn't know what sort of people the residents of Australia were, but if this woman could so readily buy into the passing notion that he had been robbed blind and exploited whilst drunk, then he was beginning to question whether or not he had in fact chosen the best place to hide. She didn't say much about the local men, but if she considered him to be scrawny and defenceless, then Sirius could not help but conjure the mental image of tanned, rugged men wrestling crocodiles with their bare hands. Looking down at his pale, emaciated body in mild disgust, all he could do was nod solemnly at the woman's conclusions and avert his eyes from her penetrating gaze; for not only did it make him ill to think that he was in no state to physically defend himself, he didn't particularly like the idea of lying.
"Well get on, then," the woman said suddenly, fidgeting with the reigns of her horse and shifting forward in the saddle, so as to make room. "Can't very well have you wander aimlessly in my rainforest and die of exposure, now can I? The paperwork alone would be atrocious. Get on, and I'll take you back to the house… you do know how to ride a horse?"
Sirius stared at her blankly for a moment, his hand having, at some point, risen on its own accord to stroke at the mane of the dark horse. Drawing his hand away quickly, as though burned, he sucked in a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and nodded distractedly. The weight of having to live in solitude, surrounding himself with lies and secrets, was beginning to bear down on him, and he did not know if he had the strength to go through with it; he would have to confide in someone. He couldn't do it alone.
"Thank you," he said humbly, his gratitude extending not just to her communicated offer, but to what he felt she would be willing to assist him with in the near future. "I promise that you will never regret this," he held out his hand, ignoring the woman's bemused look. "Sirius Black."
The escaped convict exhaled slowly when the woman showed no signs of recognition upon hearing his name. When she greeted his introduction with a small smile, he instantly knew that he could trust this woman. She accepted his hand and shook it firmly.
"Madison James," she said, "but everyone calls me 'Mad'… and I mean that sincerely."
At the mention of his best friend's name, Sirius jolted, and his eyes fell out of focus. Shaking sense into himself when he found the woman's – Madison's – eyes on him, he nodded in acknowledgement and busied himself with climbing onto the horse. With the proficient horsewoman in command of the majestic beast's reigns, Sirius had no choice but to hold on to the woman's waist. At first, he was determined to keep his touch gentle and as impersonal as possible, but as the woman steered the horse across the sand, the precise motions of her riding crop accelerating the horse into a confident canter, he found himself clinging on for dear life; Madison's loose brown tresses flying back into his face, blinding him. Riding a horse, he soon discovered, was nothing like flying on the back of a Hippogriff, or even riding his old motorbike.
"I thought you said you could ride?" she said teasingly, slowing her trusted steed down to a more comfortable trot as they approached a white weatherboard stable. Turning her attention to her horse, she smoothed down the silky ebony mane and crooned to it; "whoa there, Trojan, we're home now. I'll have to brush you down later, okay boy? As you can see I have company…"
The horse bayed indignantly, throwing back its head in protest. Madison shook her head in mirth, causing her long hair to swing over her shoulders and whip Sirius in the face again. Leaning forward, the woman hugged the animal's neck and whispered soothing words into its ear. Watching the two interact, Sirius leant back in the saddle, riveted; his hands slipping from the woman's waist to rest listlessly at his sides as the stead was directed into the open stable.
"Thank you," said Sirius, as he swung his leg over the horse's body and levered himself to the hay-scattered ground so that Madison could follow. "I cannot thank you enough for helping me."
Laughing, Madison slid off her horse and tethered it to its post.
"Bloody oath, was I born on the wrong continent! Are all you English blokes as polite as you?" said Madison, marvelling at Sirius' gratitude; "or are you hiding from something?"
"Um…" said Sirius, taken aback by Madison's perceptiveness. "Well-"
"Hey, I was only messing with you," said Madison, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, are you hiding from something?"
Sirius began to fiddle with the shirt tied to his head, his nervousness swallowing his words as he began to feel particularly vulnerable without a shirt on.
"I, er, well you see…" said Sirius, pausing, feeling as though he had gone back in time and was back in McGonagall's office atoning for a prank gone wrong. If only it were that simple, he thought, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I can explain. It's… it's a long story."
"Oh goodie," said Madison enthusiastically, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a grand timber house on stilts that seemed to blend into the local fauna. "We can discuss it over breakfast; I don't know about you, but I am starving!"
Sirius shook his head in disbelief, allowing himself to be led up a flight of wide wooden stairs and across a deep, airy, sheltered veranda.
"Are you Australian girls all so trusting?" he mused, mostly to himself, his eyes travelling around the outdoor living area, taking in the inviting cane furnishings with all-weather cushions and open French doors that seemed to open every room onto the balcony. Following Madison in through the main set of doors, his hands pulling apart the silky white mosquito netting that billowed in the sea breeze, he felt an immediate sense of homeliness and had to catch himself before letting out a sob of overwhelming emotion. The last time he had been welcomed into a home, was over a decade earlier, the very night when James and Lily had performed the Fidelius Charm with Peter and changed his life forever.
"You look like you need a coffee," said Madison decisively, pushing him towards a stool against a breakfast bar before stepping into the kitchen. "Let me guess, black, with lots of sugar…"
An hour later saw the unlikely pair sitting at the kitchen table, picking off the tropical fruit from a bowl in the centre and exchanging small talk. Breakfast had been a refreshing serving of cream-cheese bagels and poached eggs, something of an apologetic 'slap-up' meal to Madison, but dining of the finest calibre to the man who had fed off of wild vegetation and rats for the better part of a year; twelve years of uninspiring prison food and supplemental potions having barely sustained him before that.
Throughout the first half of the conversation, Sirius learned how Madison James had come to own a strip of premier, heritage-listed coastline; how asides from the homestead, which was entirely self-sufficient, the property was entirely untouched. The nearest road was five kilometres away and could only be reached on foot or horseback, with travel to the nearest settlement more convenient by boat. 'Paradise Lodge' had been in the family for five generations, its situation on the fringes of the Daintree rainforest securing its heritage status. Billed as a private conservation park, the land's value, Madison explained, was not as high as the developed coastlines further south, but the lifestyle, she confessed, was priceless.
Fittingly, Madison James worked from home as an artist; dabbling in a touch of astrology and natural healing for the odd tourist that arrived on chartered boats to buy direct from her studio, which sat above the stables. What funds she didn't use to replenish her supplies and keep her home in order, was funnelled into keeping the inland boundaries of the property secure from intrusion and sponsoring local school children on educational day trips to her own personal ecological 'mixing bowl'.
"My mother, Geraldine Madison, came from money," she explained further. "My grandfather designed custom yachts for the filthy rich; and my father was a environmentalist hippie who lived as a recluse in this very house. My parents met, and well, the rest, they say, is history."
"Madison… that's your mother's maiden name?" said Sirius observantly.
Madison nodded.
"My grandparents didn't want their family name dying out and wanted a hyphenated surname, and had my father had his way I would have been named something out there like Amber Sunrise or Poppy Rainbow-" she rolled her eyes at Sirius' amusement. "My mother had something of an aloof sense of humour and 'compromised' accordingly. My grandparents were mortified when they found out."
The conversation then, invariably, moved on to Sirius, and in feeling inexplicably drawn to his present company, the wrongly-accused fugitive was not inclined to lie.
"You're kidding, right?" said Madison, laughing nervously at the poker face in which Sirius delivered his life story. "A wizard? Are you on crack?"
Ignoring her incredulousness, Sirius pulled the dry, stiff cotton from his head and ran a hand through his hair, absently noting that it was in dire need of a wash.
"All right, so I am pretty useless as a wizard without a wand, but look-" he got up and prepared to transform into his Animagus form, "-I can prove it."
With that, he transformed, earning a surprised gasp from his audience.
"I must be on crack," she said, mouth agape, rubbing at her eyes.
Sirius transformed back.
"Now, will you believe me?" said Sirius pleadingly. "Because if you can't believe what you can see with your own eyes, I can't possibly expect you to believe what I have to say next…"
Fifteen minutes later, Sirius had bared his soul to this practical stranger, and he felt as though a weight had been lifted because of it. Mulling over his revelations in her mind, Madison nursed her glass in her hand and tilted her head to the side as she peered at him indecisively.
"All right, I'll buy it," she said finally. "But only because you could do that dog trick thing-"
"Animagus transformation," said Sirius, correcting her, his face relaxing in relief. "So, you believe me? That I'm innocent?"
"You can tell a lot by looking into a person's eyes," said Madison solemnly, clearing the table and carrying the dishes to the sink. Without looking back over her shoulder at her guest, she turned on the taps and continued. "Your eyes have seen a lot of pain… suffering… you look…" she cracked a small smile in an attempt to add a bit of levity to the situation; catching Sirius' eyes as she looked back at him shyly; "you look like a little lost puppy."
"That's because I am a little lost puppy," said Sirius dryly, rising from his chair and crossing the room to lean against a counter, facing his new confidant. "By wizarding standards, I'm still practically a teenager."
"Like the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings," said Madison in understanding, handing Sirius a dishtowel. "Say, are they real too?"
"Extinct, I think," said Sirius, racking his mind back to his old History of Magic classes; regretting for the first time that he and James had spent that entire class plotting for pranks rather than listening to the ghost of Professor Binns. "Goblins and elves still exist, however, though Tolkien's impression of elves is grossly misrepresented; I suspect his Muggle publishers were against presenting elves as an inferior race of house servants because of the racial climate in the United States at the time."
"You really are for real, aren't you?" said Madison, shaking her head in bemusement; she could not believe that she was having a philosophical conversation about creatures she had, until recently, believed to be mythological. Even more out there was the realisation that she was standing in her kitchen with a wizard, doing the dishes, and that said wizard was a wrongly-accused fugitive and godfather to a boy, a mere child, who was supposed to save the world. If it wasn't for his little 'dog trick', she'd have smiled and nodded politely, taking the first opportunity to call in the authorities and have him packed off to the loony farm. Watching as the man's calloused hands cradled the crockery and dried it so carefully, as though he was scared that it might break in his grasp, she felt a piercing stab of sympathy for this so obviously gentle man who had had to endure so much. Reaching out a soapy hand to stop his motions, she turned to face him fully. "Just why are you telling me all this?"
"You can tell a lot by looking into a person's eyes," said Sirius quietly, throwing Madison's earlier words back at her. "I just knew I could trust you," he added, shifting a bit closer and noting for the first time that they stood eye to eye. "I had to tell somebody. I needed… need… help."
Pushing aside the warm feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Madison reminded herself that she had only just met this man and tried to make light of the situation.
"Yes, well, I don't take no freeloaders. You want to stay here, you'll earn your keep," she quipped, wagging a soapy finger at him. She forced herself to keep looking at his face, so as to not become so acutely aware that he was still topless and standing rather close to her; but it backfired when she began to lose himself in the intensity of his gaze. Scrambling for cover, she promptly smeared some suds on Sirius' nose, halting him in his tracks. "You can start by having a bath… or do you need help?"
June swiftly transformed into July, and spending most of his days on the beach collecting driftwood for Madison's studio, Sirius had developed a healthy bronzed glow and regained some of his youthful muscle definition. He was still, as Madison like to point out, a 'skinny little bugger', but with three square meals a day and an outdoor lifestyle, he was fit and healthy… and clean.
Madison owned two horses, Trojan and Thor, and after being assured by his gracious hostess that the stables were off-limits from prying eyes, Buckbeak was called in from the wilds and welcomed to take residence at the homestead. In exchange for being taught how to ride Thor, Sirius had fulfilled his promise to take Madison on a twilight flight on the winged Hippogriff. What had started as a once-off excursion, had quickly become a nightly event, with the unconventional couple finding a mutual love for the skies and the uninterrupted view of the stars that the dense darkness afforded them. Secretly, Sirius just enjoyed being close to the woman who had opened her house to him and trusted him when he needed support most. Likewise for Madison, it gave her an excuse to be close to the man while he was awake. The twelve years Sirius had spent in Azkaban had taken their toll on the man, and after a week of sleepless nights it had been discovered that the only way to prevent the haunted wizard from waking up with cold sweats and torn sheets was for Madison to hold him as he slept.
The nightly routine of climbing into bed alongside each other had started out innocently enough. Madison claimed that she was running low on sheets and didn't want to spend her days sleep-deprived, with needle and thread, and Sirius, being the magnanimous houseguest, was prepared to accept his host's thinly veiled concern without complaint. Soon enough, the emotional connection they'd established from comforting each other through the night had transpired into physical awkwardness during the day. It was clear that their relationship was transcending beyond that of a platonic friendship, but whereas Madison was bold and driven by the emerging emotions in her heart, the unfamiliar feelings alienated and terrified Sirius. With the passage of time pushing the horrors of Azkaban to the back of his waking mind, and his nightmares of those memories curbed by Madison's stabilising presence in the night, Sirius became all too aware that, developmentally, he was a 22-year old stuck in a grown man's body. Life had effectively stopped for Sirius the moment the cell door had slammed shut behind him, and the pre-Azkaban Sirius Black had no experience whatsoever of being in a committed relationship. Once, when he had questioned whether or not he had let 'the one' join the seemingly endless list of ex-girlfriends, the newly-wed James and Lily had assured him that he would know when he had found what he was looking for. Neither of them had said anything about the paralysing fear that would come with that knowledge, though Sirius had to suppose that he had Azkaban to thank for that crippling insecurity. Madison, however, had other ideas… the unrelenting woman working patiently at dispelling his every fear, curbing his every hesitation, and accepting him with open arms the moment he was ready to love again; their geographical seclusion from society serving them well to accelerate their relationship.
"Sirius, honestly, how many times have I told you not to pick the native flowers – they're protected, you know that!" said Madison, her face betraying the conflicting emotions she was feeling. "It's a wonderful arrangement, though… but damn it Sirius, you've just stolen the food of… of… fifty different insect species!"
Sirius' face fell, the carefree, effortless grin he had only just become reacquainted with giving way to the hopelessly lost look that had dominated his features for the past twelve years. Seeing this, Madison relented. Wrapping her arms around the strange man she had come to love in such a short time, she rested their foreheads together and stared directly into his eyes.
"Relax, it's not the end of the world," she said resignedly. "We'll just have to plant you your own flower garden, hmmm?"
Chuckling in relief, Sirius returned the hold on his woman and engaged her in a passionate kiss; a measure of physical touch inevitable whenever he needed reassurance.
"Great," he drawled, pulling back slightly, "another thing for me to do! You're a slave driver, woman!"
"Me Jane. You Tarzan," grunted Madison, flicking the tip of Sirius' nose and sparking a mad chase throughout the house; a pursuit that she inevitably lost once Sirius had turned into Padfoot, leaping atop her and smothering her with enthusiastic doggy-kisses.
After wrestling around on the floor with Sirius' Animagus form for a few minutes, Madison finally pinned him down, resting her weight on him.
"So, Harry's birthday is coming up, isn't it?" she asked him suddenly. Harry, the beloved godson Sirius could not stop talking about, was a boy whom Madison truly wanted to meet. It pained her that this man who cared so much for the child was denied the opportunity to raise him. Everything Sirius did, or saw around him, was in someway linked to Harry… whether it be something he thought Harry would like, or something he would like Harry to experience. A calendar on the kitchen fridge counted down to July 31st with all the enthusiasm of an approaching holiday, and unbeknownst to Sirius, Madison had a few surprises in store. "Have you decided what you're going to send him?"
Sirius transformed back into his human form, but not before Padfoot let out a defeated sigh.
"I don't know," he said quietly, averting his eyes. "I… I don't really know him."
"That's not your fault," Madison reminded him. "Besides, that Firestick went down pretty well, didn't it?"
"Firebolt," Sirius corrected her automatically, smiling wistfully at the woman's constant misinterpretations. "But I can't keep getting him things for flying… it's too impersonal."
"Well, you know, whenever I used to take my father anything in the hospital, he'd always appreciate it most when I'd bake him a cake;" said Madison. Her father, Patrick, had been institutionalised in the eighties with a mysterious, degenerative illness, and had passed away several years previously. Recalling the memories, she smiled.
"Nothing says 'I love you' more to a guy, than something you can feed him."
"Are you implying that all men are shallow and only think about food?" said Sirius, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Oh, I am sure there are other things they think about," countered Madison suggestively, her lips curling into a coy smile; "but we're talking about a fourteen year old boy, so I'm sure you'll still be able to win him over with food."
"But I can't cook," Sirius pointed out.
"Who said you'd have to?" said Madison, smiling widely. "Or wait, don't you want Harry to try my double choc mudcake?"
"But that would be from you-" said Sirius sullenly.
Madison cut him off.
"No, it would be from us-" said Madison pointedly. "I understand why you can't tell him about me yet, but let me do this for you, please?"
"A cake won't keep," said Sirius stubbornly, getting to his feet and starting to pace. "Not over that kind of distance…"
Madison only nodded in acknowledgement, crossing the open-plan living space to pluck a thick manila envelope from a small desk against the wall. Holding it out towards him, she beckoned for him to accept the parcel.
"This came for you today," she said with a wry smile. "Your new identity… all legit…"
Sirius accepted the package with barely contained excitement. Hands shaking, he tore open the seal of the thick Muggle envelope and extracted the official documents contained within. Inside was a birth certificate, Medicare Card, Passport, bank account details, and licences to drive both a motor vehicle and a marine vessel.
"A Driver's Licence?" questioned Sirius, holding up the small plastic card in confusion. "I don't know how to drive!"
"I don't expect you to take advantage of it, you twit," said Madison, shaking her head in mirth. "It's there so that you can quantitatively prove your identity should anyone ask questions."
"And it's all legit?" asked Sirius in disbelief, still unable to get his head around the idea that Madison knew people in high places.
"I had a few people owe me a few favours," shrugged Madison. "It'll hold up, trust me."
Sirius nodded distractedly, flicking through the unstamped pages of the fresh-smelling passport.
"This… this is… is this what Muggles use to travel overseas?" he asked, turning the small pocketbook over in his hands. "I could use it to fly on a… mechanical bird?"
Now it was Madison's turn to laugh at Sirius' cultural misnomer, but she didn't rush to correct him, preferring instead to entertain the image of him wandering around an airport, asking directions to the 'mechanical bird'. Turning serious, she halted Sirius' hands from fanning through the pages, capturing his full attention.
"I thought it would come in handy – you know, in case you had to get to England in a hurry," she said. Taking a deep breath, she made her proposal. "How would you like to go to London next week, with me? With your hair cut like it is and that colour in your face you don't look a thing like that man who washed up on my beach five weeks ago… and you have enough documentation there to keep you in the clear-"
"No Auror is going to buy that I am an Australian, not with my accent," said Sirius miserably.
"So? Your parents were Brits – that's not a lie – and they sent you to some posh English school," said Madison. "C'mon… you keep saying you want to get a wand and grab some things from your vault-"
"It's too risky," said Sirius hoarsely, shaking his head. "I don't want to drag you into anything…"
"It's too late for that," said Madison. "I've already booked our tickets-"
"Madison…" Sirius growled in protest.
"Sirius…" Madison shot back at him in equal indignation, her hands flying to her hips in challenge. "Look at it this way, they are looking for one man… one man with next to no idea of how to function amongst Moggles-"
"Muggles" said Sirius softly, his lips twitching at Madison's endearing slip.
"Muggles," repeated Madison slowly. "Yes, well, they will hardly be expecting you to bum around Art Galleries with an eccentric Australian woman; and in any event, I'm not suggesting we go nab Harry from Surrey and draw the attention of these Aura people-"
"Aurors…" said Sirius helpfully, unable to hide the smile on his face now.
Madison realised her error and slapped his shoulder playfully as he closed the distance between them.
"Hey, stop correcting me!" she pouted. "I think I am doing pretty well with all your mumbo jumbo, considering I've only known about it a month! You've known about us all your life, what's your excuse?"
Sirius loosely wrapped his arms around the indignant woman and held her in place.
"I don't know why I correct you," he confessed. "You're so adorable when you mix it all up."
"Why do you think I never correct you, then?" said Madison slyly, throwing Sirius for a loop.
Once in London, the pair stayed in an airy studio apartment in Soho… one of a handful of properties from the Madison family legacy. It turned out that Madison had an established presence on the London art scene, having sent her contemporary Australian art and sculptures to a respected boutique gallery for the past several years. This latest trip, she explained, coincided with an annual Art Show and gallery dinner, in which Australian artists were acknowledged and celebrated with an exhibition at Australia House.
"Merlin, this place reminds me of Gringotts," said Sirius with a shudder as he accompanied his date into the grand Exhibition Hall. As proud as he was to recognise Madison's distinctive style on many of the coveted pieces on display, the cosmetic reminder of the wizarding world could not help but put him on edge. Not for the first time since their arrival, did Sirius begin to regret taking the risk of walking around Muggle London.
Recognising the cagey look on Sirius' face, Madison sought to bring her partner's mind back to the present; assuring him that all was well and that they were safe.
"Relax, Paddy," she said.
The name on all of Sirius' new identification read 'Patrick S. O'Ryan': Patrick, or 'Paddy' as Madison had taken to calling him in public, for her father and Sirius' Animagus form, 'Padfoot'. The middle initial stood for Sirius, and his new surname, O'Ryan, was a phonetic play on his real middle name, Orion. Capturing Sirius' attention, she squeezed his arm in encouragement.
"Stop being so silly! You made it in and out of Diagon Alley yesterday without a whisper, remember? Even if someone saw you, they'd never think of looking for you here! You said yourself that so long as you don't use your wand on the continent, they can't track you!"
Sirius' response was cut off by an approaching critic calling for Madison's attention. As she excused herself apologetically and allowed herself to be led away to mingle with a number of potential clients, Sirius leant back against a pillar, hiding himself in the shadows; altogether relieved that they were heading back to Australia the next day. Now he was equipped with a wand, a broom, and a few handy treasures from the Black family vault, he felt much more complete than he had been for years; and yet with his name still attached to evil and his godson in the custody of others, he felt destined to never be whole.
Several days later found the happy couple back at Paradise Lodge, slipping back into their daily routine. Spending a great deal of time outdoors did, however, have its downsides. While he would never begrudge the freedom of being able to do away with manmade walls and immerse himself in nature, the displaced wizard could not help but constantly scan the skies for a familiar white owl.
"He's going to stay with Ron for the rest of the summer," Sirius relayed to Madison after the latest delivery from his godson. The relief was evident in his tone, and his face brightened. "They're taking him to the Quidditch World Cup!"
A conflict of emotions then passed over the Animagus' face, as he mourned the loss of another opportunity. Accurately reading into the sullen silence, Madison snuggled closer to Sirius as they sprawled together in a hammock on the back deck; burying her face in his neck.
"I know, you must wish that it could be you taking Harry to the game," she whispered into his ear, pausing to kiss her way down his jaw-line affectionately. "Do try to concentrate on the positives though… he doesn't have to put up with that blasted grapefruit diet anymore!"
Tightening his hold on the woman he had come to depend upon so much in recent times, Sirius sighed into her hair.
"You're right… as usual," he said without hesitation. "I just wish he could be here… to see all this. Petunia was the last person Lily would have wanted raising her son… James made me his godfather in good faith; he deserves to be here with a family who truly care about him."
Resting a hand on his chest, Madison pushed herself up to look him in the face.
"So, we're a family now, are we?" she said playfully, her warm brown eyes twinkling.
Sirius tensed slightly, a thoughtful expression coming over his face as he battled inwardly about something.
"Only if you want to be," he whispered finally, swiftly pulling a small jewellery case from his pocket and presenting it to the woman he wanted to make his wife. "Go on, open it."
Dumbly staring at the old, worn velvet case, Madison shifted her weight so that she was sitting up fully and accepted the ring box with shaking hands.
"Sirius…" she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she fumbled with the small container.
Brushing loose strands of sun-streaked hair from her face as she looked down upon the case in her hand, Sirius marvelled at her natural beauty. In the warm golden glow of the setting sun, her tanned features were glossed with a lively glow and to Sirius' eyes, she couldn't have been carved from a finer stone.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, smiling gently as she struggled to open the clasp of the stiff velvet box. Cradling her small hands in his, he wordlessly extracted the case from her grasp and opened it for her. "Marry me?"
Her breath taken away by the delicate craftsmanship of the small antique ring, Madison melted into her soon-to-be-fiancé's embrace.
"Just how long have you been waiting to do this?" she asked wryly, as Sirius removed the ring from its mount and slid it home on her finger. "Or did you time Harry's letter and the sunset just so?"
"To be honest?" Sirius whispered into her hair, inhaling deeply to permanently ingrain the scent in his memory. "I've had that in my pocket since the day I went to Diagon Alley."
Madison turned her head up to look at him, eyebrows raised.
"And yet you couldn't have gotten down on your knees and done it properly?" she teased.
"You'd better answer before I change my mind, woman," Sirius countered, turning to humour in a vain attempt to hide the nauseating nerves that were turning his insides inside out.
"I'm waiting," said Madison, grinning at him malevolently. "You haven't proposed properly yet."
"What?" said Sirius, surprised. Realising that she wanted him to get down on one knee, he attempted to roll out of the hammock gracefully, only to land flat on his face. No sooner had he rolled over and caught his breath, did a familiar weight settle on top of him.
"I do," said Madison, capturing Sirius' lips in a searing kiss before he could react. Pulling back a few moments later, breathless, she rested her weight on her forearms, leaning on Sirius' chest, effectively keeping him pinned. Splaying the fingers of her left hand out in front of her, inches from Sirius' face, she inspected the ring critically. "Yes, I do think I could get used to wearing this."
Catching a wiggling finger between his teeth, Sirius grinned, and then transformed; the act of reverting to his Animagus form to enjoy his happiest moments a throwback to the time he spent in Azkaban.
"Oh no you don't!" scolded Madison, leaping to her feet and grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck. "You will transform back to yourself this instant and enjoy this moment as the man I love! You don't need to hide your happy thoughts here – those Dementoids won't get you!"
Before she knew it, Sirius had changed back and swept her up into his arms, burying his face in her hair, dampening her neck with his tears.
"I don't deserve you," he said hoarsely. "All of this… it just feels too good to be true."
Combing her fingers through her lover's fine dark hair, Madison rested her chin atop his head and scowled. One hand travelling down from the back of his neck to the fleshy tender place on the inside of his arm, Madison pinched him. Hard.
"Ow!" Sirius yelped, jumping slightly in surprise, knocking Madison's teeth together in the process. Feeling the impact of head on chin, he recoiled in horror and held his breath apologetically. Meeting her eyes, he couldn't help but laugh.
"Merlin help us, we're a match made, aren't we?"
"The blind leading the blind," agreed Madison, chuckling happily. Wrapping her arms around his neck once more, she pulled her fiancé towards her. "Now c'mere you…"
If receiving a Wedding invitation by Muggle mail was not strange enough for Albus Dumbledore, receiving said invitation from one of his most notorious former students, from half way around the world, was an even more bizarre occurrence. Sirius Black, the lady-killer of Gryffindor House, escaped prisoner and wrongly-accused fugitive, had, in his exile, managed to find a woman who could settle him down. At first, the meddling headmaster had wanted to send a few words of caution to Sirius, suggestively warn him that, perhaps, his affections for this woman had been tempered by his dependence on her and his isolating situation. Realising then, what a stabilising influence a woman could be over a man, the multi-faceted headmaster held his tongue; his blessing coming quickly once it became apparent how good the Muggle woman was for Sirius' mental state.
The last of the Black family's direct line needed, Albus acknowledged, someone to confide in… someone who was far removed from the horrors of their past and able to support him accordingly. Albus further knew that without the company of a woman to distract him, the rash former Gryffindor would be unpredictable when it came to their common interest, Harry Potter. The wizened old man could only imagine how difficult it must be for the doting godfather to be out of Azkaban and yet so far away from the child he was supposed to help raise; it pained Dumbledore to think that young Harry had no memory of the love and dedication the runaway bachelor had once displayed towards his best friend's infant son.
'Sirius would make an excellent father,' the powerful wizard mused to himself as he sent off his acceptance letter with Fawkes, a most secure and expedient way to communicate. Sweeping around his office purposefully, he set about preparing for his trip immediately, all the while hopeful that the woman Sirius was set to marry was of child-bearing years.
Meanwhile, back on the north-easternmost coast of Queensland, Sirius was getting nervous about the pending nuptials.
"How many people are coming?" he asked, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Whilst tonight was just a casual dinner to introduce Sirius to some of Madison's acquaintances in Cairns, the unfamiliar constraint of wearing a shirt again chafed at him, fuelling his nerves.
"Tonight, or to the wedding?" said Madison distractedly, too busy perusing the wine list. Looking up at her fiancé and taking in his discomfort, she smiled reassuringly. "Four tonight, and just as many on Sunday. I'm keeping it strictly to my friends… anyone associated with work'd want a big flashy do, and my parents' old friends are so up themselves you'd forget what we'd all come together for in the first place."
"Ah, so just those school friends of yours, right?" said Sirius, letting out a breath slowly and reaching for yet another glass of water. Though he'd never seen all of them together, he'd actually met each of Madison's closest friends in passing, as they infrequently came and went from her studio. They had always been careful not to display the true nature of their relationship though – and in fact, until the paperwork had come through, Sirius had kept his distance from Madison's guests altogether, lest they ask questions he could not answer with proof. Now that they were getting married, and he had to invariably seek the approval of his proposed wife's childhood friends, he couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Yes, just 'those school friends'," said Madison, rolling her eyes. Shifting attention away from the matter at hand, she poked him in the side with a finger. "So, tell me, who are you inviting, huh?"
"Just Moony, Dumbledore and maybe one of my cousins… one of my fellow disowned ones, that is," said Sirius, simultaneously looking forward to introducing his intended to the people he respected most and feeling rotten for leaving one name off the list of attendees.
"Oh great," said Madison, in mock terror. "Just the werewolf, your former headmaster and a witch – and you're the nervous one, ha!" Her face softened at Sirius' thoughtful look and she sighed. "I want Harry to be there too… but you told me yourself what Dumbledore said about his scar, and how he and Bunnywart are linked-"
At the image of the feared Lord Voldemort resembling a bunny covered in warts, Sirius couldn't help but laugh, the dam of emotions that had bubbled to the surface cascading into a hearty release of laughter. Madison had just joined in when her friends arrived, the intuitive group seeing upon first glimpse that the man their friend was with was well suited to her.
For perhaps the first time in a long time, Sirius Black had been worried for nothing.
END CHAPTER
Next chapter... 10th November.