*Edited as of 09.04.2017*

Things are starting to get a little more serious now (excuse the pun). Love to know whatever guesses you guys may have about the story so far :)

Hope you like it…


'Pity, I get the scabbard but not the blade, how disappointing.'


'Sirius?' She moaned, and just like that, her eyelids dropped. Sirius was afraid she'd passed out again until she shifted, opening her eyes, much more slowly this time. Her half-opened eyes flickered over the room that was bathed in blue moonlight, the space between her eyebrows pulling together as she did so. 'Where are we?' Her voice was so soft, so weak, so panicked.

Sirius put a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to get her to stay still. 'We're at the Potters, with James,' he added, sensing her confusion.

She stared at him. He actually felt a pulse of pain when he noticed that the ring of silver encasing her irises, that was normally strangely bright and positively swimming, were now so incredibly dull that it had all but disappeared. Sirius had to grab her hand when it rose, reaching for his face that was still sporting a cut lip. 'Don't.'

'But you're hurt.'

'And so are you.'

It was as if she was suddenly hit with a silent curse at his words, Lyra sunk further into the bed as she groaned.

'Shh, where does it hurt?'

Lyra groaned again. 'My middle.'

Sirius smoothed her hair. 'It's alright. Why don't you get some rest, we'll talk more later, okay?'

Lyra nodded, softly saying 'alright' and after a few moments she was still once more.

Sirius stayed there kneeling next to her bed for a while, his eyes flicking over to the unlit candle on the bed side every so often. Finally, he rose from the floor, his knees protesting as he stretched them out. Not really feeling up to facing the blackness of sleep just yet, he left the room – wincing as he was forced to limp – and headed for the kitchen. Once he'd reached it, he flicked his wand blindly, illuminating the room.

'Holy-!' Sirius jumped as he looked up from the floor, finding a thoroughly unperturbed Marlene McKinnon sitting atop the kitchen counter munching on a chocolate biscuit.

'Quiet down, Black,' she said, looking around the room. She hopped off the counter and made her way into the large walk-in pantry. After a few seconds, Marlene reappeared holding a glass of orange juice. Finally, she looked at Sirius.

'You look awful,' she said blandly, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

Sirius rolled his eyes now that the shock had worn off. Of course it would be Marlene bloody McKinnon who he would meet at four in the morning in the Potter's kitchen, he should've been expecting it really. After he'd grabbed a biscuit for himself he sat down at the table opposite her.

'How the hell did you get in here? This house is supposed to be protected.'

'You really don't think that the Potter's would shut out their neighbours though, do you?'

'One can dream,' Sirius mumbled, mouth full of biscuit.

This time it was she who rolled her eyes. 'So,' her voice was a bit more serious this time, 'how are the two Black Bandits doing, anyway?'

Sirius looked at her incredulously. 'No one has ever called us that!' When she gave no response, he continued. 'Lyra's,' he tried to figure out the best way to continue, 'Lyra's resting. She –she didn't have the best time of it.' There was a voice somewhere in his head telling him that he shouldn't be telling her this. But it was Marlene McKinnon for Merlin's sake! She had been rooming with Lyra for the last six years. She was James' neighbour, the closest thing the boy had to a sister, and she was no stranger to what went on in the stricter Pureblood families.

Marlene did nothing but raise a single eyebrow, if Sirius were anyone else he probably would've started fidgeting under her gaze. As it were, he calmly waited for her to talk again.

'And how are you holding up?' It was hard to find anything but mild curiosity in her voice.

'I'm here aren't I?' The bitterness in his was unmistakable.

'Hmm,' was all she said. The two fell in to a somewhat comfortable, if not a little strained, silence for a while, the only noise came from the grandfather clock standing in the living room down the hall.

'Well,' Sirius almost jumped again when she finally broke the silence. 'When you're both up and about properly, we'll all have to go to Diagon Alley for the day.' She rose from the table, putting her cup on the counter top. 'But, that will have to wait, I suppose.' She gave Sirius a little nod of the head, slid the back door open and casually strolled off into the darkness.

As Sirius sat there he couldn't help but be just a bit unnerved with the new-found knowledge that she could come and go from this house whenever she pleased.

XXXXXX

Lyra had been awake for two days now. After the first night, Sirius had moved into James' room, the spare bed being vacated by Remus who had returned home for the next few days whilst the full moon came and went.

But even though he slept upstairs in James' room, he still spent most of his time in the guest bedroom where his sister was recovering. She was still weak but, as Mrs Potter had observed, she was improving quickly.

She was still sleeping for long hours at a time but, with help from the pink salve, the cuts along her arms had healed and the bruise that had stretched down one side of her face had disappeared completely. He hadn't had a chance to see how the wounds on her stomach were progressing. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Mrs Potter assured him that they were healing well, that was enough for him.

Now that she was awake, however, the simmering anger that had slowly been growing, growling, within him whilst she was unconscious, had dimmed. It was now mixing with other emotions that had been swirling within him since that day they escaped. He just wasn't sure whether to yell at her or to thank Merlin that her eyes were finally opened.

That didn't stop him from approaching her and addressing the one thing that had been fueling his rage above all else.

'They could have killed you!'

'And they would have killed you!'

Sirius pulled up. He clenched his jaw as he rubbed his temples.

It would be easy to tell himself that she was still weak, that they shouldn't be yelling at one another. But then she leaned forwards, looking right into his eyes and he realised that she didn't need to yell, she'd never needed to.

'You cannot tell me that you would have done nothing. If you had the option that I had, in that moment, you cannot sit there and tell me that you wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.'

His jaw clenched tighter.

'I didn't think so,' she said, leaning back into her pillows, letting her eyelids drop.

In his mind's eye, Sirius saw himself saying all the things he wanted to say in that moment as guilt reared within him. Then he imagined her response and the words that had been bubbling uncomfortably in his throat receded.

She didn't open her eyes as he stood. Fishing around in his pockets he found what he was looking for, he withdrew it from the back pocket of his jeans and tossed it into Lyra's lap. Her eyes opened immediately.

'What's this?' She held up the envelope.

'Turn it over.'

Her face fell when she did so and took in the green cursive.

'How did he know?'

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. 'It's Dumbledore, he knows.'

Lyra frowned down at it, as if she were afraid of the contents.

'Do you think he knows how we got out?' She finally looked at him in a sudden realisation, uncloaked panic brimming within the silver rings around her irises. 'You used magic! You apparated!' She was quickly becoming frantic. 'You're not even supposed to know how to do that yet! If he knows about that then he could know about the other week, at dinner, about what I -!'

'Hey!' Sirius knelt down at the side of her bed and took one of her slightly trembling hands in his. 'If he or the ministry had picked up on any of it, we would have known by now.'

'And you haven't received a letter?'

'No.'

'Or seen any ministry owls entering the house?'

'No.'

'Or-'

'Lyra.' He said quickly. 'Nothing is going to happen.' He had almost been about to say I promise, but experience had told him not to say such things unless he was sure he could follow through on it.

'But, that night at dinner-'

Suddenly the door that Sirius had closed behind him, swung open. Sirius turned to see a very ashen-faced James standing in the doorway. In one hand was his Hogwarts letter, being crumpled under the boy's white-knuckled grip, the other fist – free of anything to hold – was firmly clenched.

James simply kept staring vacantly ahead as Sirius walked towards him.

'James?' Sirius tried. James didn't answer, he just stood there, staring. Sirius took a step closer so that he was directly in front of him. 'James?'

But instead of answering him and without even looking at him, James opened his closed fist and angled it towards Sirius.

Sirius only just got his hand under James' in time to catch something that had slid from what he'd thought was James' empty hand. It was small and slightly warm from being held in a sweaty palm. Sirius, frowning deeply, looked away from James and down into the thing in his hand.

It was a pin, its silver back glinted innocently up at him, he turned it over.

Disbelief dawned on him.

The face of the pin gleamed gold, blazoned in big bold lettering across it were the letters HB. They were so big, those letters, there was no escaping them, they were laughing at him.

'H. B.'

'Head Boy.' James' voice was croaky, hollow slightly. 'Mum and Dad want to have a big dinner to – to,' he seemed to be having trouble getting the word out, 'to celebrate.'

Sirius didn't know what to say. He could feel his mouth hanging open, he knew he was staring at James, probably with a mixture of shock and confusion. What did you say when you've spent the last six years being scorned and shouted at by holders of those pins, and taking pleasure in it?

He remembered this as he brought a hand to James' shoulder and said in a half-joking, half-serious kind of way, 'At least you won't be able to give yourself detention.' He tried to smile at his own joke.

James didn't smile back.

XXXX

Mr and Mrs Potter truly did put on an exceptional spread to celebrate their son's new position. Both James and Sirius were still in shock. Although James' mood lifted significantly upon learning that Lily had been made Head Girl.

Nonetheless something still gnawed at Sirius. He was sure it wasn't resentment, he knew James was a good leader, he had known it for years.

Say one thing of Sirius Black, say that he did not like change.

XXXXXXXX

If there was one thing Walburga Black would never do, it would be to let anyone see anything but how confident she was. And this is what she thought, like a mantra repeating within her, with every clip of her shoes on the cobbled stone, of every swing of her dragon hide purse as she strode through Diagon Alley.

She avoided the gazes of those she did not know but gave a stiff nod of the head to those she recognised. And as she approached the back end of the Alley, she never lost that well practiced confidence and the grace that came with it. And as she passed the grimy sign that read Knockturn Alley, only briefly looking at it before making her way down into the shadowed lane, her posture only became taller.

Knockturn Alley was one feature of Wizarding London that would surely never change. It had not changed for many years, from it's blackened bricks to the shops that lined the Alley and the whores and beggars that filled it. So Walburga didn't have to look down at them as she strode on through, she had no need to glance in store windows or to the street signs, for she remembered where she was going.

A peculiar high pitched tune seemed to echo off into the far corners of the shop as Walburga Black entered through the heavy wooden front door. She tried to ignore how it lingered as she took off her gloves, stowing them away in her purse.

As the tune finally faded away a cackle quickly replaced it, just as high pitched, just as peculiar as what had come before it.

Walburga looked hastily into the surrounding darkness. The front windows were covered in thick, dark drapes. In the far back wall of the room, a small bared window was set close to the ceiling. It was through this window that the only small stream of light was allowed to break through, not that it reached very far. Walburga could make out tall, long shelves, laden with ancient and mouldy looking books, some lay open, as if abandoned halfway through perusal. Before her was a desk, the dark wood was chipping and splintering away, peeling back from neglect. Anything beyond this desk was shrouded in an unnatural black.

The cackling grew louder until a hunched, grey haired and thoroughly grimy looking woman appeared on the other side of the desk. As the old woman regarded Walburga her cackling softened.

'Well, well, well,' her voice could only be likened to a creaking door, painful and broken, 'if it isn't the reverent Mrs Black, I haven't seen you in a very long time, my dear. What's it been, close to sixteen years now?'

Walburga scowled at the smirk held by the old hag.

'And what brings you to me this time? Do you wish to discuss another,' she paused, looking about the room, as if the right words would appear out of the open books on the shelf, 'business opportunity with me?'

Walburga scoffed. 'Hardly, I am not someone who makes the same mistakes twice.' She took another look around the room, dismissing the hag, who, Walburga was pleased to note, had lost the edge off her smirk. 'No, I have come to discuss the last dealing we conducted together. I trust you remember how the last conversation we had over that topic turned out?'

From the corner of her eye, Walburga saw the hag touch her side gingerly.

'You may have tricked me once before with your ability to find loopholes in your … dealings, but I can assure you that I have learnt a valuable lesson in caution because of it.' Walburga turned to look at the elderly witch again, 'Thank you for that.' She gave a tight-lipped mocking smile. 'You once told me that there would be a price to be paid for your services.'

'And I told you that patience will reward you in the knowledge of that price.'

Walburga narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits. 'I have been patient for long enough!' She hissed. 'You may have thought that I had forgotten your words, and perhaps for a time I managed to put it out of my mind, but circumstances have changed. Now I want to know when you plan on settling our account, and how. And I want to know exactly what other consequences our deal had,' a shadow that had nothing to do with the lack of light fell over Walburga's face as she stepped solidly towards the hag. 'Because it seems that there were quite a few.'

And she was astonished when the hag's smirk grew tenfold, not that Walburga would ever let it show.