Chapter Two (Misha):
Again, a long painful pause. No one seemed to know what to say, but merely looked at one another beseechingly. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "With all due respect, Professor Marrowstone…"
"Please, we're not in Hogwarts, call me Misha."
"…Misha, how do we know that it's safe?"
"Safe from whom?" asked Misha, unsure of whether or not to be offended.
"Safe for Sirius. You know, he's on the lam and all," finished Hermione as she sent Harry a death glare.
That made quite a bit of sense, actually, and Misha found she was rather pleased with Harry for being so protective of his godfather.
"It'll be fine, Harry," said Sirius pointedly. He was standing straighter now, looking at his godson as if trying to convey an urgent telepathic message. Harry, unfortunately seemed to remain oblivious.
Misha sighed. Sirius had made a confession and so she could, too. She may not have been a Gryffindor, but even Hufflepuffs could be brave. "Oh, it's headily warded and the Ministry would never come around. It's kind of an unspoken agreement, actually.
"An unspoken agreement as to what?" asked Ron.
Misha paled. "Well… you know that my late mother was a potions expert, right? She founded Avia… that so-called posh spa in London? And they also make cosmetic and aroma therapy products sold both in Diagon Ally and a few, small, Muggle boutiques." She paused, awaiting any sort of response that would indicate that she was not babbling mercilessly, again.
Hermione and Sirius nodded, Harry and Ron just looked blank.
"Well, in addition to her reputation as a socialite, she was also quite a talented witch and social activist. She brewed Wolfsbane and hired werewolves on a regular basis to work in the labs – lycanthropes' increased sense of smell lends itself well to work in fragrance, but that's not really the point I'm making. My mother was into alternative medicine and helping Muggles… and… well, she also liked to garden." Misha stopped and drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart.
"Huh?" said Harry. Ron looked equally unenlightened, but Hermione's eyes held a hint of understanding and Sirius was trying to stifle a laugh.
"So you... erm… grow things?" he asked Misha with a smirk.
Misha pulled her hair free of the ponytail shaking her hair out in what she hoped was a casual gesture. Light brown curls tumbled down her back, but only for a moment, as she refastened her elastic band and nodded at Sirius.
"Like illegal things?" Sirius ventured again.
Misha chanced a glance around the cave. Harry looked confused, Ron appeared vaguely horrified, and Hermione remained composed. Sirius, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying himself with this line of questioning.
"Yes, but nothing Dark," huffed Misha. She looked purposefully at Ron and added, "We grow most of the botanicals for our family spa business, but we also make cookies and brownies laced with herbs and Wizard medicine, some of which we distribute to sick Muggles."
"Why?" asked Harry. "I mean, isn't that a little risky?"
Misha shook her head. "Not really, it keeps people alive and well and, though the Ministry would never admit it outright, helps encourage Wizard-Muggle relations. Of course, they don't know we're magic they just know we have 'Magic Brownies.' "
Sirius started outright laughing, holding his sides, and shaking violently with mirth. "So you grow canna…"
"Yes," spat Misha, "and aconite and fluxweed and knotgrass and many other things." She glared at him defiantly. "Honestly, it's no big deal," she challenged, "I'm quite sure that you smoked it before Azka…" She cut herself off again, hesitant to bring-up his years in prison.
"Before Azkaban, yes, yes I did," laughed Sirius.
"Smoked what?" asked Harry.
"Nevermind," said Hermione, Misha, and Sirius at virtually the same time.
Harry just shrugged continued to look confuses. "So, to tea than, shall we?" he asked brightly. Obviously, even Harry Potter knew when not to press the issue.
"Most definitely," cried Sirius and the five set off down the hill.
Mercifully, downhill is far quicker and less exhausting that up hill and, this time, Misha never even broke a sweat. Instead, she chatted merrily with Sirius and Harry about plants and what they grew. For his part, Sirius at least pretended to be interested – at least he spent most of his time looking at her. But every now and then, he would open his mouth to say something only to be cut off by Hermione with a sharp, shake of the head.
Still, in no time the group found themselves standing before a dilapidated gate beyond which could be seen knee-high crabgrass and the ruins of a tiny cottage.
"You live here?" asked Ron. "I thought you supposed to be rich or something."
"Ronald," hissed Hermione and then sent Misha an apologetic smile.
But Misha merely chuckled, pulled out her wand, and began muttering counter-spells to the Wards. Soon the gate shimmered and slowly swung opened, revealing an verdant expanse of gardens and orchards punctuates by small sheds and what appeared to be miles of greenhouses. At first the smell and colors were overwhelming, despite being early spring, everything was in either full-bloom of full fruit and the air was redolent with the scent of roses, pears, and a myriad of unknown flowers and herbs. And standing above it all was a large, comfortable-looking house that appeared to be an 18th-century hunting lodge. "Welcome to Marrowstone Manor – farm, more like," smirked Misha, ushering the group through the gate.
"This is more how I remembered it," Sirius whispered not quite under his breath.
Misha stopped dead, causing the others in the band to shuffle to stop as well. "Excuse me? Are you implying that you've been here before?" This was alarming on multiple levels. She's just given assurances that they would be perfectly safe and then Sirius blithely announces a security breach? A cold shiver crept up her spine, but she pressed onward, "How did you cross the Wards. Only animals can cross the Wards, but even on Buckbeak's back, you would have been detected."
Sirius paled even further (a miracle considering he'd clearly not seen the sun much to begin with) and wrapped his arms around his chest once again. "I'm sorry," he stammered, "I was hungry and I just wanted see and…" The air shimmered around him as the magic danced in the air and before her eyes Sirius Black disappeared and in his place sat an enormous black dog. The beast sat suddenly on his haunches, looking at Misha with wide, sad eyes.
Good Merlin, he was an Amimagus, too? But wait, she'd seen that dog before. And suddenly it his her. He was the dog she'd seen wandering about their property and had tried to coax into the barn. Oh, dear Merlin on toast, she's baby-talked him! And tried to bribe him with stew. And, oh Gods, one day last week she'd sat there scratching his ears and yammering to him about how she was such a loser who couldn't find a real job. The day was veering from chaotic to humiliating in a few short minutes.
"Oh, shit." It was all she could say.
Sirius turned back into a man and looked at her pleadingly. "Please know I never meant to steal anything. It was just a few eggs and some cookies," he urged. "I will work to pay you back, I promise."
"I don't care that you took food, we have plenty, but OH GODS I HAVE YOU THAT NASTY STEW!!" Misha wailed. "And I swear on my mother's grave that I do NOT usually baby-talk animals like that…" She turned a rather inelegant crimson and added, "Oh shit and I scratched your ears!"
"I rather liked that," replied Sirius in a low voice, adding, "No one had touched me kindly in over a decade, it felt… wonderful."
Misha fought the urge to reach out and scratch him behind the ears right there and then, but settled on another apology. "But the stew," she whined, "it was disgusting. Well past its prime. If I'd known you were actually human, I'd never have made you eat that."
"The stew was quite delicious," Sirius assured her, patting her hand gently.
"Says the guy who's been eating rats," broke in Ron.
"You eat rats?" asked Misha and Sirius nodded.
Hermione rolled her eyes yet again and apologized on behalf of all of her companions. "They're cretins, but they mean well," she said with a wan smile.
Misha just laughed. Recovering her shattered dignity, she invited her guests into the house with a promise that whatever she could dredge up for tea, would certainly be better than rats.
And it proved to be so. Having spent the morning preparing a feast that would never take place, it was quite a relief to have someone who would eat it. And, oh, could Sirius eat it. He made his way through a mountain of roasted summer squash, several pounds of cold roast beef, and three-quarters of a cherry pie before even pausing to speak. Instead, he merely watched quietly as the kids asked Misha myriad questions and poked about through her possessions. Frankly, Misha found it unnerving.
Throughout the entire meal, Misha had been rambling about freed house-elves and Ministry corruption, but all she really wanted to do was talk to Sirius. Unfortunately for all involved, Ronald Weasley refused to leave her alone.
"Hey, Misha," he began, "I heard a rumor about you and I was wondering of it was true."
"Yes, by boobs are real," thought Misha snidely, but the query was decidedly more serious.
"I heard that you can legally use Unforgivable Curses," finished Ron.
The only sound was the soft clinking of silverware and a muffled gasp from Hermione.
"Well, not curses, plural. Just Avada Kedavra, really and only in a specific situation."
"Like what?" squeaked Harry.
Misha tool a sip of tea and nodded toward the ham Sirius was currently piling onto his plate.
"LIKE SIRIUS?!?!?!" cried Harry, reaching for his wand.
"No, I think she means the ham," laughed Sirius. "Am I not correct?"
Misha sighed. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. Most farmers can perform it on animals, actually." Seeing the disbelief of the students she added, "It's rather more humane that the way Muggles do it – which I won't get into since we are eating…"
"Electrodes in the anal cavity," supplied Hermione helpfully. Ron paled and even Sirius looked down at his ham in horror.
"…but I try to be as humane as possible about it," Misha continued. "I just kneel down and tell the pig he was a good pig and wish him well in the next life and then… I simply do it." Great, she thought, now they'll think I'm as loony as that poor Ravenclaw girl with the protuberant eyes and high, light soprano voice. What was her name? Luna something?
"So you've never performed it on a human?" Hermione persisted.
Misha said nothing, but went on to offer Sirius some cake that he gladly accepted. And so the meal continued, Unforgivable Curses forgotten in lieu of getting to know one another. And when Sirius eventually seemed ready, Misha forged ahead.
"Sirius, do you mind my asking how you escaped?"
Smiling at Misha and at his beloved godson, the tale unfolded. Sirius told of his capture, his imprisonment, and eventual escape in canine form. He described his year on the run and all that has happened that fateful night in the Shrieking Shack, but he never took his eyes of off Misha. Still, Misha could not help but notice the look in his eye when he described his reunion with his "old friend" Remus Lupin. She hummed sympathetically at this portion of the story, hoping for elaboration, but he continued undaunted, describing his recent months on the run.
"So, now you're hiding all alone in my cave keeping a protective eye on Harry?" Misha asked, pouring Sirius another cup of tea.
"Essentially, yes. And I'm sorry for the trespassing. I didn't know anyone owned it."
Misha said nothing, but merely looked thoughtful. "Sirius," she began slowly, "may I ask you something else?"
"Of course."
"Do you like it in the cave?"
Sirius shrugged. "Well, it's dry and comparatively warm, so I suppose I could say yes."
It was now or never. Misha gathered the remnants of her courage and asked softly, "Would you like to stay here. I mean, we have plenty of room and we're even Warded against Dementors."
"Why on earth are you warded against Dementors?" asked Harry, but Sirius was grinning from ear to ear.
"Cold. They cause frost damage," Misha replied, adding, "So Sirius, will you stay? We can go get Buckbeak and keep him in the stables. He'll be happy there – plenty of goats, I suppose."
The students laughed, but looked expectantly at Sirius who rose from his chair and placed reached to take Misha's hand. "I would be honored," he said. "But I don't want to be a bother."
"Nonsense," said Misha. And so it was decided that Sirius Black would become the houseguest of the century.