That day in the spring of 2003 had been warm since dawn. Street sounds were flying in through the wide-open window: the hubbub of the crowds on their way to work, the trilling of birds, the sleepy hooting of owls, the clatter of opening shutters and shop windows, the shouts of a newspaper boy... Sirius, who had slept through half the night in his office, stretched luxuriantly, yawned, and dropped his feet off the desk. There was a familiar prickle of discomfort in his back, which had stiffened from the awkward position. Sirius grabbed a decanter of slightly stale water and emptied it in three gulps, to wash down the bitter taste in his mouth. He glanced briefly at the clock—thirty minutes til nine. He could still apparate to Grimaud Place and sleep for three hours or so. Sirius looked at the desk: he never did finish up with those papers. A thick file from the Ministry archives was open right in the middle. His rest would have to wait; work would have to come first, since the file was supposed to have been returned yesterday.
Sirius sighed, rubbed his eyes, stood up, and walked over to the window. His office was on the third floor above Madam Malkin's shop, its windows facing what used to be Florian Fortescue's cafe. The poor man had been killed by Death Eaters, but literally a couple years later a tea shop opened in the same building, with Florian's niece as the owner. At the moment, the young hostess was going from table to table, setting out fresh flowers. If it wasn't for work, he would've definitely come down to wish her a good morning and ask for a cup of strong tea with a meringue pastry. As it was though, he just smiled from the window. She didn't even notice.
Sirius heard the front door slam and heels patter across the wooden floor—Pansy had arrived, and strangely enough, she wasn't even late. The thought of hiring a Slytherin would've never even entered Sirius's head—it was Harry who'd persuaded him, and he'd never regretted it since. Pansy was well-received in places where Sirius had not been welcome for a long time. She gathered rumors, knew all about the quarrels and connections in old wizarding families, and could easily tell you, without even a glance at any directory, who was married to whom and who was whose nephew or distant relative. Say what you will, she was a very useful staff member for a detective agency. Now if only she would stop trying to flirt with him...
There was a knock at his door, and Pansy stuck her head into his office:
"Sirius, you're already here?"
He turned around. She looked him over, clicked her tongue, and disappeared after announcing that she'll bring him coffee. Sirius patted down his hair, straightened his twisted-up shirt, and returned to his chair. The sooner he finished, the sooner he'd get free. After all, he was his own boss and had every right to take an unscheduled day off, or at least half a day.
A wizarding photo of Bellatrix was snarling from the pages of the report. Sirius kept getting the urge to stick his tongue out at his 'beloved' cousin, but he just sneered instead and turned the page, carefully reading the uneven lines of text. Interrogations, eyewitness testimony, investigator reports... But he wasn't fated to find out the details of the search at Lestrange Hall—the front door slammed and he heard Pansy's voice:
"I'm sorry, madam, you can't go in there! Mr. Black is wor..."
She was cut off abruptly, as if she was hit with a nonverbal Petrificus. Sirius snatched his wand from the table and was about to rush out into the reception room, but he didn't get far. The door opened a crack, and Pansy peered into his office. She seemed a bit embarrassed.
"Sirius, I'm sorry..."
"Everything alright?" he interrupted.
She nodded.
"Yes. You have a visitor. Without a prior appointment."
"Then why are you letting them in?"
Pansy sniffed, opened the door, and stepped aside. A lady made her way gracefully into the room. She wore long robes trimmed in black fur, glittering gold rings on her gloved fingers, and a broad-brimmed black hat with a veil. After taking a few steps, the lady stopped, turned to Sirius, and lifted her veil.
"Narcissa!"
"I'll make you that coffee after all." Pansy shut the door behind herself.
"Sirius... cousin." Narcissa gave him a crooked smile, and held out her hand, as if for a kiss.
Sirius shook it.
Something very strange was happening. For Narcissa to come to his office, just like that? She detested the very idea of a 'descendant of ancient blood' working as an 'errand boy'. When they had run into each other in Diagon Alley, she'd snorted something about 'the shame of the family' and suggested that he should sort out his own inheritance instead of working for mudbloods.
"Are you here on business or is this a social call?"
"Just business," she drawled.
"Have a seat."
Narcissa took exception to the visitor's chair, and her scowl deepened, but she did sit down, drawing up the long skirt of her robes. Sirius returned to his side of the desk.
"I'll hear you out, but mark my words, I'm not especially eager to help you. Unless you'd like to chuck your mangy peacock and leave him high and dry."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him irritably.
"I wasn't planning to. Why, are you still hoping to get your hands on him yourself? To pick up the poor destitute thing on the rebound, warm him up at your bosom?"
"Oh, sure, it's all I ever dream of. I'll build him a chicken coop in my back yard."
"You mean you'll move into a kennel by his house."
Narcissa crossed one leg over the other and gave him a wide grin. Sirius had thought that she had no clue of his old affair with Lucius. How was Malfoy even alive after that particular revelation? From what Sirius could tell, Narcissa had a heavy hand, or rather wand, and the jinxes she knew were exceptionally unpleasant and hard to remove.
"Have you come to have a row?"
"I'm not the one who brought up Lucius. But you're right, I'm not here to quarrel. I'll get to business." She sighed, winced, fidgeted with the folds of her robes. "I want you to find Draco."
"Why, what's happened to him?"
"He's run off, disappeared... He hasn't been home since last evening."
That was unusual, but in a way also predictable.
"It's only been twelve hours? And you're already worried? He's not a helpless infant, now is he? Knowing what's been going on with you lot, I'm not surprised that he's made himself scarce."
Narcissa's chin jerked up weirdly.
"It's Draco we're talking about. You know perfectly well—we are constantly getting threats. If he doesn't want to come back home, fine, but I need to know that he's safe."
"Have you checked with Harry?"
A spasm crossed Narcissa's face.
"No."
"What, did you and Draco have an argument?"
"Not me. He threw his father a tantrum, as usual."
"More like the other way around," Sirius smirked.
Narcissa's shoulder twitched but she said nothing.
"Very well. What have we got then—the boy argued with his father over Harry and ran off to the same, as he'd done about a dozen times before. Seems to me like there isn't anything to worry about."
"Yes, he'd run off before, but always sent a note that he was alright. But not this time."
"I bet daddy dearest has driven him to the point where he doesn't even want to think about the two of you. I can understand him perfectly. But since you're so worried, fine, when I see him at Harry's, I'll let you know."
"And what if he's not at Potter's?"
"Then I'll do my best to find him... Lucius."
With these words Sirius raised his wand sharply and aimed it at Malfoy.
"I'm not..." he twitched, as if he wanted to pull out his want as well.
"I don't suggest you make any sudden movements. After the Ark my nerves are a bit jittery, you know."
Lucius opened his mouth, closed it again, grimaced.
"How did you work it out, you bastard?"
"Cissy has never made such grimaces in her life, unlike you. I'm tempted to keep you here for a while, to see how you'd look in a ladies' robe and hat. I think it would suit you."
Malfoy snorted, but left that without any other comment. Sirius was disappointed—it's been a while since he'd had a chance to meet with his favorite opponent one on one and have a proper row, ignoring any sideways glances aimed at them. Nettling Malfoy has always been a special, dangerous pleasure, and Sirius had been missing it.
"In future, I don't suggest you use Polyjuice, Lucius. You're hopeless as an actor."
"Thanks for the advice. I'll try to keep it in mind and limit myself to using Imperio."
"Yes, if you'd be so kind. Azkaban should help you lose the habit of going about in ladies clothing."
"Well, you would know." Lucius smiled nastily with Narcissa's lips.
"Why the masquerade? Did you want to get closer to me? Were you hoping for something?"
"Blaaaack..." Lucius's drawl was so familiar that it sent a chill down his back. "Not everything revolves around your person. The only thing I wanted was to find out where Draco is."
"You thought that I would be likely to help Narcissa, as opposed to you?"
"It's harder to refuse a lady, especially one who's your cousin, and a concerned mother."
Sirius smirked—there wasn't much difference between Lucius and Narcissa, as far as he was concerned. If one was a snake, then the other was a poisonous viper.
"She would have come herself, if she'd known of Draco's disappearance," continued Lucius. "But I didn't want to worry her, as she's in Europe right now anyhow."
"And especially since it's your own fault that your child disappeared."
"Black..." Lucius clenched his teeth. "The joke is over. You must understand: Draco is aware of the whole situation. We've had misunderstandings before, but he always—always!—let me know that he was alright, almost right away."
"Always?"
"Yes. No matter what had happened between us. After all, he's smart enough to understand how these things could turn out!"
There was a cold anger in Narcissa's eyes, but at the same time, also genuine panic. Malfoys did not panic. Lucius did not panic. And he didn't do stupid things, such as visiting his old opponent in ladies' clothing.
"Fine, like I said, I'll ask Harry. Just don't expect me to return the young man home, if he doesn't want to come."
"I'll sort that part out myself."
Sirius had no doubt that he would sort it out. It wasn't the first time that Draco had a horrible row with his father and ran off to Harry, but somehow Lucius always managed to find the right approach to his offspring, and after two or three days he would always return home. Harry really knew how to pick them, honestly!
He lowered his wand; Lucius relaxed slightly. Sirius wondered—was it only Narcissa's robe that he'd put on, or maybe her underthings as well? Silk stockings, a lace garter... Sirius reigned in his imagination and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Despite the wide-open window, the room seemed to get hotter.
"I'll write you," Sirius said.
"I'll be waiting."
After Lucius left, Sirius realized that they'd spoken calmly for more than five minutes. They hadn't even shouted at each other like they usually did. Must be some kind of record.
A gust of wind burst in through the window and jumbled the papers on his desk. It flipped through the pages of the report, opening them right to the interrogation of Mr. Lucius Malfoy. Everything that day seemed to be coming up Malfoy—a bad omen. Sirius snapped the file shut. He better talk to Harry first—if Draco was with him, he could throw all these sodding Malfoys right out of his head without a second thought.