A/N: To BulletTheBlueSkyU2, who has disabled private messaging, I completely agree with you. Things like that take time, and if you knew the whole backstory, you'd understand that it takes a LOT of time, but you'll like this chapter, me thinks. :D Cheers.

-C

By mid-December, Morrighan found herself facing a difficult task: not telling Sirius that she and he wouldn't be alone for Christmas. This was a problem because Remus was living elsewhere starting at the beginning of December for some tasks for Dumbledore, checking in on a semi-regular basis just to make sure Sirius and Morrighan weren't in need of something they couldn't leave Grimmauld Place to get.

Otherwise, the pair had been alone, and their relationship had begun to develop nicely. They hadn't moved into any sort of sexual acts, but she was allowing Sirius to touch her in sexual ways, and he certainly seemed to like this almost as much as she was finding she did.

In fact, they found themselves, on the evening of the eighteenth of December, sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with two glasses of wine (they had become increasingly more sober the more they spent time alone together without fear of being interrupted, so the bottle was nowhere to be seen), a nice spaghetti dinner Sirius had sort of cooked with the last of their food supplies, and a single candle on the table. Rather than sitting across the wide table from each other, they were sitting side-by-side, faces extremely close as they ate, kissing every several minutes.

For some reason, there was something in the air that night. It was like, the night to make things go a step further. Morrighan could feel her heart racing every time Sirius's finger tips grazed her cheek, could feel her head spin each time his lips touched any part of her skin, be it her lips or her neck or her ear.

"Sirius," she sighed, "I think…I think it might be a good night."

He chuckled, kissing her neck once more, and a sigh escaped her lips. The sound made him stiffen, and she knew he realized what she meant.

"Wait, you mean, like…?"

"Yeah," she said shyly, "maybe."

Sirius couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face, but Morrighan was glad of that. It made her heart swell to see it, and when he began kissing her neck more passionately, making his way downward, Morrighan could hardly contain herself. He froze again.

"Not here," he said firmly. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

With a flick of his wand, the kitchen was cleared, and he led her quickly up to his room, where he didn't bother shutting the door or turning off the light before he tossed his own shirt to the floor. Was it really okay for a person to look so good? Morrighan wondered that as she traced his tattoos lightly with her fingertips, admiring the way he had regained his dashing good looks after Azkaban. Before she had too much time to dwell on it, though, Sirius had begun kissing her neck once more, backing her up toward the bed, and tumbling on top of her as they fell onto the soft haven that they had long shared.

He unbuttoned her shirt, which made Morrighan squirm a little, awkwardly, but she knew this was what she wanted, so she forced herself not to flinch or protest.

"Oh, darling," he moaned, gazing down at her chest, which was covered by naught but a blue lace bra, "you're absolutely gorgeous."

He then proceeded to kiss down her chest, quickly removing the bra and making his way down to stomach, which she couldn't help but squirm at. Her ex had done the same thing.

"Ticklish?" he chuckled looking up at her, but he frowned a little when he saw her face. She tried to hide the fear, but she knew she had done a bad job or it.

"Love, if you don't want to do this…"

"No, I do," Morrighan insisted. She did, and she knew from experience that waiting too long wasn't going to make it any better.

"Only if you're sure," he whispered, kissing her sweetly.

But as many of their more innocent kisses did, this one quickly became heated and passionate. Morrighan found herself barely noticing Sirius straddling her body, which felt as weak as putty as she melted against his lips, and she couldn't even bring herself to protest as his hands found her breasts because it felt too good with the feel of his lips, which were tracing their way downward once more. In fact, when his hot mouth had enclosed around one of her nipples, she couldn't hold in the moan that built up inside her. She had lost track of everything, of place and time and everything that wasn't Sirius and the delicious and wonderful sensations he was bringing about in her body.

She barely noticed the sound of a throat clearing, which Sirius had actually just ignored, continuing his oral assault of her breast. After several moments, though, Morrighan became increasingly aware that they were being watched, and that someone was trying to get their attention. She looked around the room hazily, but saw no one there. Finally, it dawned on her what day it was, and she looked up at the portrait, only to find a man sneering down at them with a disgusted expression.

"Sirius," she sighed breathlessly, but he took her words as encouragement rather than an attempt to get him to realize they were being watched, and he massaged her other breast expertly with his fingers. Morrighan moaned in spite of herself, feeling incredibly embarrassed now that she knew they were not alone.

"Sirius," she said again, more strongly, "Phineas Nigellus needs to talk to you." She whined out the last three words as he nibbled her nipple lightly. "It's a message from Albus, and you really need to take it, love."

Finally, Sirius pulled back from her breast, although Morrighan nearly whimpered at the sensation of loss, and he sighed heavily, frowning a little as he turned around to face the portrait, shielding her body from Phineas Nigellus's view.

"What?" Sirius snapped.

"Watch your tone with me, grandson," Phineas Nigellus said snidely. "Professor Dumbledore wishes me to inform you that Arthur Weasley has been injured, and that his wife, children, and Potter will be arriving here shortly."

"What?" Sirius snapped again. "Why? What happened?"

"That was all he said," Phineas Nigellus said. "I'm sure if you weren't busy fornicating with a Mudblood you'd know that you have a perfectly good source of the hows and whys right underneath you."

Morrighan blushed, but squirmed uncomfortably at being addressed so.

"Well, I'm happy to have them here," Sirius said slowly. "I wish it wasn't at quite this moment, but that's the way of things, and they're probably on a time crush."

"Tell Albus that we'd be delighted," Morrighan said, peaking over Sirius's shoulder. "Don't mention this particular instance if you please, sir."

"Well," Phineas Nigellus said with a sniff, "at least she knows her place."

Before Sirius could berate him for the statement, Phineas Nigellus had disappeared to report the message, and hopefully not the situation under which it had been delivered. Morrighan hastily redressed her upper half.

"Did this really have to happen right now?" Sirius sighed.

"Yes, I'm afraid it did," she said with a nervous swallow. "They'll be here any moment, they're coming by Portkey. Try not to look so much like you were just about to have sex, please." He obligingly replaced his shirt and combed his fingers through his hair as she straightened herself out. "Kitchen," she snapped, rushing down the stairs before him, and they arrived in the kitchen just before the Weasley children and Harry did, but Kreacher had poked his head out from the pantry.

"Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying…?"

Apparently Phineas Nigellus had searched the house for them quite thoroughly, running into Kreacher in his search.

"OUT!" Sirius roared.

The house-elf rushed out into the hall, and Sirius and Morrighan rushed over to the new arrivals, helping them to their feet. She couldn't help but notice how incredibly pale they all were, especially Harry.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked no one in particular as he helped Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured–"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.

Morrighan was well aware that she was the only person in the room not staring expectantly at Harry, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate another set of eyes on him in that moment of fear and confusion he was experiencing.

"I was – I had a – a kind of – vision…"

And he told them the story of seeing the snake attacking Arthur, but Morrighan noted that he conveniently told the story as though he hadn't seen it from the snake's own eyes, but rather as a bystander of some sort.

"Is Mum here?" Fred said, turning to Sirius.

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," Morrighan said. "I expect Albus is relaying the information to her now. The important thing was to get you out of there before Umbridge could do anything to stop you, and to get Arthur the medical help he needed."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny said firmly, looking around at them all, still in their pajamas. "Can you two lend us cloaks or anything–?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" Sirius cried.

"'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," said Fred challengingly, "he's our dad!"

"And how are you going to explain how you knew that Arthur had been attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"

"What does that matter?" said George hotly.

"George," Morrighan said softly, "we can't draw attention to the fact that Harry had a vision about this. Can you imagine what the Ministry and the Prophet would do if they got their hands on something like that? Can you imagine what would happen to Harry?"

Ginny said softy, "Somebody else could have told us…. We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry…"

"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's–"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" cried Fred.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Sirius angrily, seeming to direct most of his ire at Fred, it seemed to Morrighan. "This is how it is – this is why you're not in the Order – you don't understand – there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" roared Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

Morrighan knew Sirius wasn't going to hit Fred, as much as he looked as though he wanted to, but she stepped between the two of them just in case, and spoke softly.

"Fred, I know this isn't easy, but you have to act as though you don't know anything for a bit, all right? When we hear from your mother, things will be different, but until then, we have to keep our heads down. Please, just be a bit civil toward each other?"

Some of the fight in the air dissipated, and although the twins appeared incredibly loth to do so, they followed Ginny's example and found chairs to sit in.

"That's right," Sirius said encouragingly, "come on, let's all…let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer!"

Seven bottles of butterbeer came soaring toward them, skidding to a halt in front of the various people seated at the table, and Morrighan sat down beside Sirius, placing her hand bracingly, lovingly on his thigh.

For a while, they sat in silence which was only broken by the sounds of sipping and the occasional clunk of glass on the table, and Morrighan avoided looking at Harry, knowing the deep inner turmoil he was going through and not wanting to address it with so many people around. Then a sudden burst of flame happened on the table in front of them, causing them all to jump, and a scroll of parchment and a single phoenix feather were left in its wake.

"Fawkes!" said Sirius, snatching up the parchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing – it must be a message from your mother – here–"

He thrust the letter at George, who ripped it open and read aloud, "Dad is still alive. I'm setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."

"Still alive…" George said softly. "But that makes it sound…"

Morrighan new how it sounded, and she felt the deep, depressing feel of the room around her, but she kept reminding herself that Arthur Weasley was not going to die. He was going to be just fine. At one point, Sirius had suggested weakly that they go to bed, but the looks of the Weasleys had put a stop to that idea before it had really gotten any traction.

There was very little talking, only wondering aloud, checking the time, and the like. Dozing had begun to happen around the kitchen, but nobody dare go to sleep, in case they missed something important.

At ten past five in the morning, Molly Weasley walked into the kitchen, causing everyone to perk up in anticipation.

"He's going to be all right," Molly said, her voice weak and tired. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work."

The relief that spread through the kitchen was infectious and even Morrighan, who had known this exact thing was going to happen, felt a bit better about everything at this concrete sign of things being okay.

"Breakfast," Morrighan said, stretching merrily. "I'll make it. Let's see, breakfast for – eight – let's see…bacon, eggs, tea, toast–"

Harry and Sirius rushed forward to help her gather the ingredients from the nearly-depleted pantry and get plates set out.

Molly thanked Harry for the vision, and then turned to thank Morrighan and Sirius for looking after her children all night. Morrighan and Sirius assured her that it was nothing and Morrighan added that they should feel free to stay at Grimmauld Place for as long as Arthur was in the hospital, knowing that Sirius wouldn't extend his courtesy as readily as in the books, since he was no longer in the house by himself.

"Oh, Morrighan, I'm so grateful…. They think he'll be in there a little while and it would be great to be nearer…. Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas…"

"There are worse times to have a large group of people around," Sirius said diplomatically, obviously not wanting to seem like the less-than-willing host he was, and also probably thinking that this meant he would have Harry with him over Christmas, which he must be a little bit happy about. With that, Molly threw on an apron and began to help with breakfast.

"Morrighan, Sirius," Harry said in an urgent undertone. "Can I have a quick word? Er – now?"

They went into the dark pantry and Harry told them the full story of his vision, including the fact that he saw it from the point of view of the snake, and Sirius said, "Did you tell Dumbledore this?"

"Yes," said Harry impatiently, "but he didn't tell me what it meant. Well, he doesn't tell me anything anymore…"

"Don't worry too much, Harry," Morrighan said softly. "You'll find out soon."

"But that's not all," Harry said quickly. "Morrighan, I…I think I'm going mad…. Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey…for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one – my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore – Sirius, I wanted to attack him–"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all," said Sirius. "You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and–"

"It wasn't that," insisted Harry, shaking his head. "It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me–"

"You need to sleep," said Sirius firmly. "You're going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go see Arthur after lunch with the others. You're in shock, Harry; you're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying…"

He clapped Harry on the shoulder and Morrighan followed Sirius out of the pantry, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark and wishing she could come up with something to tell him, some sort of comfort, but there was nothing at all comforting about what she knew, and she didn't have the time, energy, or confidence in her ability to not ruin the future to tell him everything he would need to know. Albus Dumbledore had carefully crafted the final bit of the story, and who was Morrighan Capilla to argue with the ways of the most powerful wizard who ever lived?

Still, something felt very off as she sat down at the table to breakfast with the Weasleys. This was only the first of the woes this family would suffer, the greatest of which would be the death of Fred. Morrighan began to feel guilt in the pit of her stomach as she watched Fred and George eat. In just a few years' time, everything would be different and moments like this, with the two of them whole and eating a simple breakfast together, would be something to look back on and cherish, for George, anyway.

Was it wrong to save Sirius, and not the others? She knew she shouldn't change more than she absolutely had to, more than she could handle, but knowing that didn't make her feel any less guilty. When the day came, when the battle happened, would Morrighan feel responsible for the deaths that she might have prevented?