Wow, so I started this little thing 4 years ago. I submitted it, then promptly forgot about it. I'm hoping that maybe the second go around will be more productive. I've been a long time fanfic reader and have dabbled in it over the years, but have struggled to really make a good story out of any of them. But I feel compelled to try it again. So while this is very much a work in progress, that will probably not be regularly updated, I actually have a plan this time. Forgive any horrible errors on my part, I'm struggling to write within the world, and to keep them in character as well as not make my character a Mary-Sue. Reviews are always welcome, even to say this sucked, cause honestly I'd like to know. Alright here we go!

(You know the drill. Don't own anything HP related, that belongs to the wonderful Jo Rowling. I own the rest.)

All she could hear was the sound of her heels as they connected with the cracked cement one could barely call a sidewalk. Usually, one would recommend against a female walking alone at this late hour. However this advice would be useless, as she is not an ordinary female. Bearing her wand in her right hand, she walks up Grimmauld Place until she reaches the space between numbers 11 and 13. No one on the block ever seemed to wonder why there was no number 12. Tapping her wand on the sidewalk creates a shift of the large stone buildings in front of her. The few Muggles still awake at this ungodly hour were seemingly unaware of the large shift currently taking place. A large wooden door and grimy windows appear to only her. She walks up to the door with the knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent. Taking the large knocker in her hand, she knocks once. The door opens, revealing the lingering and damp smell of the home.

She quietly shuts the door behind her and makes her way down the narrow entryway. She takes off her leather motorcycle jacket, and carries it folded over her left arm. She is careful not to wake anyone as she creeps towards the stairs. Careful to avoid the creaky stairs, she makes her way down into the kitchen. She places her jacket on the back of one of the chairs and walks over to the counter. She takes the large decanter containing firewhiskey and a clean glass over to the table, and sits. She pours a large amount of the amber liquid into the glass and takes a large gulp. Feeling the burning sensation of the alcohol slide down her throat and fall, warming her stomach as it takes hold, her face reads nothing. She allows her thoughts to wander for a brief moment, indulging in the rarity of it. She finishes off the glass in another large gulp. She pours another, and quickly finishes that.

With her senses numbing, and her stomach full of fire, she makes her way back up the creaky stairs, again careful to avoid making too much noise, and walks into her dark bedroom. She doesn't bother to change her clothes as she just falls onto the bed. She allows the fire in her belly to help her drift off to sleep.

She wakes to the sunlight sneaking in under the heavy curtains into the dingy room. Still in the same position that she fell asleep in last night. She carefully shifts to her back, and stretches out her legs in an attempt to rid herself of aches now plaguing her muscles. She sits up, and looks at her reflection in the dirty mirror across from the bed. A moment later, her dark curls are back into a much neater ponytail. A few renegade curls have snuck out of the grasp of the updo, as they always do, but she pays them no mind. She uses her wand to remove any wrinkles caused by sleeping in her clothes, and fixes her lack of mascara and eyeliner. Now looking some what presentable. She puts on her heeled boots, grabs her jacket and opens the bedroom door. She hears voices up three flights of stairs, and knows immediately where they are coming from. She heads down the stairs to the kitchen. The noise had now doubled as she opens the kitchen door. She slips in unnoticed, and sees a redheaded woman making breakfast for a large amount of people. Before she can reach the bottom of the stairs she hears a man call out to her.

"Ella!"

She turns her to left and sees Kingsley Shacklebolt heading towards her. He envelopes her in a hug before she has a chance to respond. "Alright, Love?"

She nods, then gestures to all the people, "What's going on?"

"We had an early meeting. Molly offered to make breakfast before we all left."

Almost as if on cue, the redheaded woman, Molly, came over to where she was standing and hugged her as well.

"Good to see you, Ella." Molly said. Ella just smiled back, unsure of what to do. "Please sit, and eat. You look as if you haven't had a proper meal lately."

Ella looked down at her now much thinner frame. She knew Molly was right, she had no idea the last time she'd had a good meal. Molly shoves Ella into a seat and immediately put a heaping plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. She digs in as if her life depended on it. Molly offered her more, but she politely declined.

"Thanks, Molly, but I should get going. I've got to see Albus. Is the Floo set up?"

"As of last week, we can thank Moody for that."

Ella put on her jacket, and walked over to the large fireplace in the back of the room. Grabbing a handful of powder, and stepping into the fire. She yells "HOGWARTS!" as her destination, and throws the powder down. She suddenly feels the familiar pull by her navel and is thrown into another fireplace. She realizes she had been thrown into an abandoned fireplace near the Headmaster's Office. Taking a left, she walks to a large gargoyle and says "Chocolate Frogs."

The Gargoyle moves to reveal a staircase. She wastes no time in climbing the stairs and knocking on the Headmaster's door. She receives no reply, instead of leaving as polite people would do, she decides to open the door and walk in. She finds Albus Dumbledore sitting at his desk reading. He lifts his blue eyes away from the page, and looks at her over his half moon glasses. A small smile emerges from under his white beard.

"Hello, Ms. Auriga." He says.

"Albus." She nods as she replies, "I told you to call me Ella. Ms. Auriga makes me feel like a student."

He simply smiles at her comment. "Please come and sit."

She walks up closer to his desk and takes a seat in front of it.

"Lemon Drop?" he asks.

She puts up her hand to refuse. She shifts in her seat, and crosses her legs, "What news do you have?"

"I see you waste no time. I can remember you used to tell great stories to avoid telling me the truth."

"Well, I was 15, and a hell-raiser."

"Some things never change."

Albus removes his glasses and places both the half moon spectacles and his book on the large wooden desk.

"What news do you have for me?"

"I have a few updates."

Albus gestures for her to continue.

"Tom has been sending Lucius Malfoy to the Ministry over the last few weeks. I assume you know about that. What I didn't know was why he was sent there. They're laying the brick work to begin a take over of the Ministry. They're trying to bribe Fudge. The attempts have been unsuccessful, I assume they're going to move on to blackmail. Someone mentioned a debt they could collect from Fudge."

"Do you have any idea of what this debt might be?" the older man asks.

"I believe it has to do with Fudge's last election. He used some of their money and power to influence the Wizengamot, to ensure that he be re-elected. I think Lucius would be the one to call on that specific debt. I'll keep an eye on that one. I have a feeling that will be when the ball begins to roll."

"The 'ball' has been rolling for a very long time."

She nods. Capella has never fully been sure how to keep a conversation with Albus going. He's never very talkative with her, unless it's about things he wants to talk about, even then he keeps it very short. He almost always refuses to make eye contact with her, and he does he just stares at her with those sad eyes.

"I understand that Lucius is forming a plan with Voldemort involving the Ministry." Albus says, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She nods, "I only know the basic details of it. I believe, they are going to attempt a break in at the Ministry. More specifically, the Department of Mysteries. He wants the Prophecy. You know he'll do anything to get it. He's kidnapped an Unspeakable, trying to get information out of them. Tom's gone abroad to rally support outside of England. He's close to getting the Trolls, and is considering the Vampires. The Giants aren't willing to listen to him, just yet. The Centaurs and Elves show no interest in human matters."

Capella pauses then continues, "It's going to be bigger than before. He's planning an all out war."

Albus's usually stoic face shows a glimmer of heaviness with this knowledge. He had an inkling of what was being planned. This information all but confirms his worst fears.

"I suppose I should get going. I don't want eat up all of your spare time."

"You could never do such a thing. Although, spare time is being a bit of a luxury these days."

"Tell me about it."

She stands up, and turns to Albus, "I've taken a couple of days away from the Death Eaters. I told Tom I had needed some time to myself. He was very supportive of the idea. Surprisingly, he ordered no one to follow me."

"They trust you. That trust is very valuable to us."

"Yeah, but at what price?" she says gesturing to her left arm, where she has a mark etched into her skin. The facade she has grown used to drops for a moment, her eyes flicker sadness for a mere second, then switches back to her iron guarded heart. Had it been with anyone else, they would've paid no mind to the switch. Albus had always been able to read her like a book. He is quick to notice changes with her.

"You know where I'll be." She says, "It was good to see you, Albus."

"And you as well. Do try to relax a bit, and do let Molly feed you. You're skin and bones, my darling."

She smiles, but there are such strong traces of melancholy with it. It seems almost as if she should be crying, not smiling.

"I'll see you soon, Albus."

He nods as she leaves. What follows is one of those rare moments in which Albus allows his thoughts to wander, only then does he truly feel the weigh on his shoulders.

She leaves the office and goes back to the abandoned fireplace. Traveling back to Grimmauld Place, she feels sick to her stomach as soon as she falls back into the now deserted kitchen. Finding a strategically placed bucket, she relieves her stomach of it's breakfast.

"Now I remember why I hate Floo." She says softly to herself.

She sees the decanter back in it's position on the counter. She grabs it not bothering with a glass, and takes it back to bed with her.

She needs a large drink and a nap.

She wakes up later that day to find a patronus in shape of a lynx hovering over her. Kingsley called on her to meet at the Leaky Cauldron. Even though she was no longer a regular Auror, she still worked with them from time to time. Meeting with Kingsley would have raised no eyebrows, as they had been friends since Capella joined the Aurors years prior. She gets up and rearranges that poor dress again, Capella apparates out of the moldy house to Diagon Alley.

She returns several hours later with new bottles of firewhiskey, a copy of the Quibbler and of the Daily Prophet. She didn't believe any of the rubbish the Prophet was printing. It's a sad day when the Quibbler seemed, to her at least, to be a much more creditable source of news.

Slamming the door behind her, the dampness of the house over powers her. The smell of which she was sure she would never forget. She is momentarily stopped by the overpowering stench of mold, before continuing on her way to the kitchen with the plan of replacing the entire bottle she had drank in last 24 hours, with one she had purchased. There is a ruckus coming from the kitchen, bellowing up the stairs. It must be dinner. She guessed that it must be a break from school, if she hears the voices of teenagers. She was right, there were two identical gingers, another ginger and a girl with bushy hair that had her face jammed into a book that had to be bigger than she was.

Almost into the kitchen, she hears a bark of a laugh. The same laugh she hadn't heard in a very long time. She tries to be sly as she sneaks into the room. But, one of the teenagers had spotted her.

"Who's the fox?" he asks, very loudly. Everyone turns to look at her. Half the room she had seen earlier in the morning. There were a few faces she hadn't seen in a while. Like Remus Lupin and Dora Tonks.

"That is Capella, George." Remus replied to teenager. She gives a half wave as she walks into the kitchen. Her cover completely blown now. She sets the papers and bottles down on the counter, and starts to pour one bottle into the decanter.

"So, you're responsible for the missing firewhiskey." Remus says. She hadn't realized he had walked over to her.

"I'm afraid I'm guilty. I've been in dire need of a large drink as of late." She replies.

"I can't begin to understand why." He replies, sarcastically.

"Well you spend enough time in the Snake's Pit, and you begin to understand why some Wizards keep this stuff close by."

Remus laughs, "You'll have to fill us in on the snake pit."

"Only after another large drink and a large dinner."

"Didn't you eat with Kingsley?"

"Yes. But I don't exactly get fed well at my other job. They like their women bony and spineless. Which I find to be an odd combination."

All Molly had to hear was that she was hungry, and a large plate of spaghetti was set down on the table for Capella. Removing her jacket, she marked her seat by placing it on the back of the chair.

"Molly! I'm gonna need more than this!" she calls out before she even sits down. She began to eat, and remembered why she loved food so much. She had been denying herself food during her time with the Death Eaters. She played the part of a doting follower of Voldemort a little too well, to the point it may have been affecting her well being. She looked around the table at the Members of the Order who remained behind for dinner. She knew them, and had known them well until her departure; Remus, Tonks, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Dedalus Diggle who was deep in conversation with a very bored looking Mad-Eye Moody, Hestia Jones attempting to flirt with a very bored looking Sirius Black.

She had seen Sirius at a few meetings but hadn't gotten a proper chance to speak with him. The last conversation she can recall with Sirius was before he went to Azkaban, back when they had been together. She noticed Sirius glancing at her left arm. She knew he was trying to see the mark she bore. She had taught herself to ignore it. Unlike full blown Death Eaters, who had the Dark Mark tattoo, Voldemort had decided that it would make her unattractive to give her the same treatment as the other Death Eaters. She had merely gotten a serpent, like the Dark Mark, it would sting when he was calling his followers. Capella avoided eye contact, she had no urge to see him staring at her. Nor to see the questions his eyes would surely hold. Capella just continued to eat and to take large gulps of the red wine in front of her. The wine was helping her ignore those annoying thoughts that kept popping into her mind.

Dinner hadn't gone as quickly as Capella had hoped. Not that she didn't love the Order, but these days her work had all but alienated her from those around her. She held too many secrets, too many burdens. She had no idea how Severus had been able to play the part of a double agent so well all these years. She thought maybe they could discuss it over breakfast one of these days; Tea, Toast and ways to take down Voldemort. A small smile broke out on her face at the thought of merrily chatting away with Severus over tea.

'He'd be no better than Umbridge.' She thought to herself. She felt herself get a little ill at the thought of that toad of a woman.

Capella had offered to do the dishes, so Molly could go home and tend to Arthur. Arthur had been confronted by a rogue supporter of Voldemort in Ottery St. Catchpole for being a 'Blood Traitor.' It was the first time Arthur had been subjected to a Dark Curse, well more than once at a time. While he was almost physically healed from his attack, he wasn't completely himself yet.

Capella noticed it when they had exchanged small sad smiles over after dinner drinks. When the Weasleys were leaving, she had received a wink from George. She blew him a kiss back. He clearly hadn't been expecting that response, his face was nearly has red as his hair.

Capella finished her third plate of spaghetti, then tended to the stack of dirty dishes. With bubbles up to her elbows, and the stack nearly half gonem Capella heard the stairs creak and the Wireless shut off. She looked over her shoulder to see Remus standing there. She smiled at him, unsure of what he was still doing here.

"You just won't leave, will you?" she asked, only slightly teasing him.

"I have a hard time tearing myself away from this place. I think it's divine." Remus replied. Capella pulls her hands out of the water, and dries them as she goes to the counter where her beloved firewhiskey is, and pours a drink. "Care for a drink?" she asks.

He politely declines, "I'm good. Are you alright? You seem to be drinking quite a bit."

"A bit isn't really justice to how much I'm actually drinking. I had an entire bottle last night. It's the only thing I can do to rid myself of them for a while."

Remus gives her a sympathetic look, "You've helped a great deal. We would be lost with out you and Severus."

She shrugs, taking a gulp, "I'm just exhausted. It's taken a lot out of me to pretend to be like them. They really are disgusting. Especially Tom. Sweet Merlin, I wish he would keep his hands to himself."

"Albus hadn't mentioned anything like that…" Remus trails off, not sure if he even wants to know.

"Why would he? He doesn't exactly know. I'm doing what the part requires. I'm just afraid Tom thinks I'm going to be some dark consort for his kingdom." She pauses and realizes that she's starting down a bad road. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be talking about this. I just want to get drunk, is that ok?"

He nods, he can tell she's not herself anymore. She may just be a shell of what she once was. They sit in silence for a while. Capella drinking and Remus reading the newspapers she had bought. Remus stops reading to check the time, it was nearly 11 pm.

"I should go." Remus says, breaking the silence. She nods in acknowledgement. He wraps his arms around her, and envelopes her in a tight hug.

"It was really good to see you, Ella."

"You too, Remus."

He leans over and kisses her forehead, and says, "Please stay strong, we need you."

"Good Night, Remus"

He leaves her alone in the kitchen. She revels in the solitude now provided for her. She decides to go upstairs and take a hot bath.

After an hour of soaking, drinking, and scrubbing the lingering scent of the Death Eaters off of her skin, she returns to the main level of the house. She remembers there is a small patio area, she decides to go out there and take in some of the crisp late summer air. The plants are overgrown and needed to be taken care of after years of neglect. Clearly gardening was not a top priority of anyone here. There was a small metal table with two metals chairs that looked to be in decent condition. She guessed someone from the Order had put them out here, probably quite a while ago, even they looked a little rusted. Walking out onto the soft grass with bare feet, has given her a moment of serenity that has long eluded her. Pulling the leg of her pajama pants up to avoid the damp grass, she walks further into the small garden. She lifts her head towards the sky, and sees the stars; although with the city pollution it's not as many as she would like to see. The cool late night breeze against her bare shoulders and arms takes away any thoughts she had. She catches herself wishing she could stay in this moment. No worries, no lies, just serenity. So deep in her trance-like state, she hadn't heard the door open nor any soft footsteps. She opened her eyes when she head the click of a muggle butane lighter and a sharp inhale, then exhale. She turns to see a dark male figure sitting at the table smoking.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" he says to her.

She doesn't reply. She leaves the grassy area and goes to sit at the table. She takes a cigarette out of the pack left on the table, and lights one.

"I haven't had one of these since the last time I saw you, Sirius." She says, as she inhales then releases the smoke into the air.

"I don't buy that." Sirius replies with a smile, "I know for a fact you loved these more than life."

"Well, I was all of 18, I loved many things that were bad for me."

Sirius gives her a look of mock hurt. She laughs and replies, "If loving you was wrong, I didn't want to be right."

Sirius gives a small laugh. They sit and smoke, listening to silence of the clear spring night.

"Do you want a drink?" she asks.

He nods, "I guess if I want some I should get it soon. Before you finish it off again."

"I don't know why you get so huffy about it. I know for a fact you have a stash of it in your mother's bedroom."

He raises an eyebrow, "Now, how would you know about that?"

"You're not as clever as you think you are."

He scowls at her.

"Buckbeak broke a bottle you left out and the smell was leaking into the hallway as I walked past. You can't hide that from an alcoholic, love. We always find it."

"Damn Buckbeak. That was the good stuff too. Ogden's aged. Don't make it like that anymore."

"Just leave another bottle behind a radiator for 15 years and you'll be fine."

He laughs and shakes his head. He sees a glimmer of the old her starting to sneak out from the mask she wears. He knows she's aware of the shift, he can see her retreating again. There's a pregnant pause.

"Why do you drink so much?" he blurts out.

"It's the only way to make things quiet."

He nods again, knowing exactly to what she's referring to. They both had to quiet the voices within. She disappears into the house, and returns a few moments later with just a bottle of the amber liquid. She twists off the top and takes a large swig of the alcohol. She hands the bottle to Sirius who also takes a large swig. She turns her back to Sirius to once again gaze at the stars. Sirius takes this as an opportunity to take a good look at her. She had gotten thinner since he last saw her. But that was 13 years ago, she was still just as beautiful to Sirius. He could tell she had been damaged by her work. Just like he had been damaged by his time in Azkaban. He had tried so hard to block it all out, but in the silence of the night it was hard to bury those memories. He had turned to firewhiskey to help with the deafening. He had noticed many new tattoos. She still had the rune tattoo they had gotten at 18; hers on her back, his on his chest. For a moment, he remembered laughing about how their tattoos touched when they used to spoon.

She looks over her shoulder at him, and sees him taking her in with his eyes. She had gotten used to being ogled by men, but Sirius was different. It wasn't in a possessive or lewd manner, it was like he was looking at a piece of art, he admired her beauty. She wished that Tom had been like that, instead of the rough, greedy man he was. She pushed Tom out of her thoughts. She was with Sirius, and had a while before was due to go back to the Snake's Pit. She could be herself with him. Whether or not she wanted that was beyond her, but she missed what Sirius had given her. She didn't feel like a trophy with him. She felt like she was just a woman, she didn't have to put on airs with him. Although those were always pluses, all he wanted was just her. All of her.

"I had forgotten how beautiful the stars were." She says, still looking up at the dark sky blanketed with stars, "and how much I had taken fresh air for granted."

"I had that lesson as well." Sirius replies, sadly.

"Funny what the dark does to people. We become blind."

"Only until the lights turned back on."

She takes a deep drag, and allows the smoke into her lungs. She can feel the nicotine filling her veins.

"When did you start smoking again?" she asks.

He stops to think, "Maybe a few months ago. I can't really tell. Being here the days seems to meld together."

"I know the feeling all too well."

"Is that what it's like there?"

"In the Snake pit?" she replies, "Unfortunately, yes. Days there feel like months. There's little light. It's very disorienting at first."

"What are they like?"

"What are you asking, Sirius? You know what Death Eaters are like."

"Are they…" Sirius begins, and gestures with his hands. Capella seems to understand what Sirius means.

"Are they grabby? Rough?"

He sadly nods. Not really wanting to hear the answer, but somehow believing that it will help him worry less about her. Capella sees the hesitancy in his eyes. She knows he's conflicted about hearing the answer. She chooses her words carefully.

"They were. Once Tom laid his claim on me, they backed off."

"Tom laid his claim on you?"

"I'd rather not get into that, Sirius. Not tonight anyways."

She takes another drink from the firewhiskey. Sirius takes the bottle after she sets it back down on the table.

"Can I have another?" she asks, gesturing to the cigarettes. He nods.

"You didn't ask the first time."

"I felt like being polite this time." She says, sticking out her tongue.

"Did I see a tongue ring?" he asks, very surprised.

"Maybe." she replies, blushing a little. Thanking the gods they're in the dark.

"Let me see."

She sticks her tongue out again.

"I'm a little turned on by that." He says, with a smile she hadn't seen since her teenage years.

"You always were a bit kinky."

"Some things never change, love." He replies with a wink.

She just laughs at him, and takes another cigarette out and lights it.

"When do you go back?" he asks.

She shrugs, "Maybe tomorrow. Probably in the next few days. Depends on if I get called back."

Silence envelopes them again. Neither seems to mind though, as the alcohol makes it way into their veins things become hazy. The haze is a welcome vacation from overwhelming thoughts and never ending stress. She puts out her cigarette on the cement and throws the butt into the wild and overgrown yard. She stands up and says, "I'm off to bed. Goodnight, Sirius."

She goes back inside, leaving Sirius alone with the firewhiskey and his thoughts. Falling onto the bed, she promptly passes out.

Waking the next morning, she felt well rested for the first time in a very long time. Even though she had only been gone for two days, she could feel a little meat being put back on her bones. When she looked in the mirror now, she had no idea who the person was looking back. She felt like a shell of who she once was. The sun was just rising, as she showered and dressed. She wore what she referred to as her 'uniform'; the black mini dress, stockings, black high heeled boots and the black leather jacket. She puts her still damp curls into her trademark bun, but left her chin length fringe out. With her make-up done, she went down into the kitchen seeking coffee and toast. The kitchen was empty, which she wasn't surprised by at this early hour. She was surprised to find a carafe containing still hot coffee and toast on a plate waiting for her. Eating a quick breakfast, she felt the mark on her arm begin to burn. She was being called back into the Snake's pit. She felt herself groan inwardly, as she left the ancient home. With a Pop, she disappears.