Auriga had tried; she really had. It had been okay the first day. Sirius and Arty had just needed a nudge in the right direction. The next day, Auriga realized they actually needed a push. By Friday, Auriga realized that nothing short of the apocalypse would get the two of them to talk to each other. So, she came up with a Plan. It was not one of her better ones, but it was time-honored and proven. After all, it was said that Rowena Ravenclaw herself had been subject to the Plan, although it seemed to have happened to her on accident and with the strangest men. Auriga and Snape had also fallen prey to said Plan, as much as Auriga loathed to admit it. That said, Auriga still felt like taking a blunt spoon or a herring to Severus sometimes, but that was just a kink that occasionally occurred with the Plan. With Sirius and Arty, there would be no doubt that they'd at least be talking by the end of it. Plus, as Auriga had mentioned to her friend when she had locked her and Snape in that damn broom closet, revenge was a dish best served cold.
The only problem was that Auriga had absolutely no clue how to get the two of them into the closet. Yes, the treatment was sure to work, but there was the problem of how to convince the two that there was something wrong with the closet.
Unfortunately, there was only one solution: ask Severus.
Hence why Auriga was standing in front of Snape's office at exactly 11:34 in the morning, glaring at the door. She could still not quite bring herself to knock. It would imply a sort of surrender. Snape would never let her live it down, especially if her Plan backfired. Then again, she could always blame Snape for the utter failure of said Plan and excuse herself from the blame. Oh, and if Sirius ever found out that Snape was a part of the Plan… Auriga realized that she could sell tickets to that. She certainly could. Maybe two sickles a person. That sounded about right. Auriga finally decided that it was now or never and was about to knock on the door when she was addressed by a particularly snide voice: "What, pray tell, are you doing in front of my office door?"
Auriga turned around and replied defensively, "I was going to include you in a most excellent Plan, but seeing as you're going to be an arse about it, I'll just leave." Snape stared at her like she was insane (he did so frequently). Seeing as he was completely willing to just let her walk away in a huff, Auriga then continued, "Well, I guess you don't want to be able to ever have a decent time at meals ever again."
Snape continued to stare at her but then glared at the ceiling before admitting he was interested. "What exactly do you have in mind, aside from committing premeditated murder?" he demanded as he unlocked the door to his office and invited her in.
"Well," Auriga started as she sat in the chair opposite of Snape. "Here's the deal: Arty is driving me insane. I'm the one that has to sit next to Black—" She still called Sirius by his last name in conversation with Snape; everyone did. It minimized casualties. "—but you know that if I'm ever going to stop stabbing coworkers, i.e. you, with cutlery, they need to stop acting crazy."
"I still fail to see why you need me in this plan of yours that already sounds mad," Snape mentioned rather boredly. He sneered, apparently realizing that Auriga may indeed be enacting her revenge for certain incidents he would rather not consider. "This does not in any way have to do with a particular closet, does it?"
Auriga opened her mouth to speak and thought better of it. Snape looked like he felt a migraine coming on (he seemed to get those a lot in Auriga's presence). "Well, maybe. But only a little! I just need some advice, Severus, honestly," she explained hurriedly, hoping that speed might increase the chances of Snape actually helping her. "It's guaranteed to be rather awkward for Black, if that's any consolation whatsoever."
"You want to lock them in the broom closet until they talk to one another."
"Essentially," Auriga admitted. She felt a little silly. The Plan was vastly immature and would probably backfire so badly that Auriga would have to start taking breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the Astronomy tower much like Sybil had taken to doing with the Divination classroom. Actually, if Arty and Sirius kept up their current behavior, Auriga would have to consider a more permanent course of action.
Snape stared at her incredulously. He obviously thought the Plan was mad, which is what he thought of most of her plans, but that was beside the point. He then shook his head and muttered, "I want to make one thing clear, Sinistra. The only reason I am even considering going along with this is because Vector was already insane enough as it is. Now she's worse, and that's Black's fault. Granted, if I am asked if I were part of your idiotic scheme, I'm denying all involvement. It will be completely on your head. If it works, however, I still had nothing to do with it. Even if Vector interrogates you, my name never comes up."
"Whatever you say, Severus," Auriga replied with a shrug.
With the stipulation out of the way, Snape asked, almost visibly dreading the reply, "What exactly do you need me to do?"
Auriga sighed and launched into her explanation of the Plan. Snape's facial expression went from bad to worse throughout the entire conversation. "And so, I'm not really sure how to get them into the same broom closet. I thought about locking them in a spare classroom, but then I realized that Black would probably know how to get out. Do you have any ideas?" Auriga asked hesitantly, knowing that Snape was about to go nuclear in his cold and snarky way.
"I'll take care of Vector, Sinistra. You deal with Black. If they aren't talking by dinner tonight, you let them out. As I said, I want nothing to do with it," Snape repeated.
Auriga glared at him. On the bright side, at least he was agreeing with her. "Wait, but what do I tell Black?" she asked, a little more confused then when she came in.
"Make something up, but make sure it's not too idiotic. He's teaching the seventh year NEWT students; they will notice if you're acting dim," Snape warned. Auriga decided to ignore him. After a couple more traded insults, she left the room and made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and certain doom.
Auriga paused outside the door to said classroom, wondering when would be a good time to completely disrupt the class and kidnap the professor. The students would probably not mind that their teacher was soon to be gone for the rest of the day (although they did not know that the rest of the school would be much better off for it, especially since it would guarantee the sanity of the rest of the faculty were the Plan to work). After a couple moments of thought, Auriga decided to just listen to the lecture and wait for a good time to interject.
"…My purpose here is not to teach you what you need to know for some exam, although most of you may think differently, seeing as this is a NEWT class. Contrary to popular belief, I am here to teach you how to defend yourself or escape from situations where supposedly Dark spells are used or where supposedly Dark creatures are present. I say supposedly because in the end it is up to each and every one of you to decide what is right and wrong. The Ministry believes, of course, that a vast array of spells should not be cast by the average witch or wizard off the street. I personally agree with the majority of the spells they cite.
"However, there are spells that they haven't even heard of that are so much worse than even the most terrible they list. The Unforgivables may be just that, but all of you must know that a simple cutting curse can have just the same results as those three if applied correctly. That spell, by the way, that Pettigrew used? If I remember correctly, it was just a variation on a repelling spell concentrated at the concrete that actually did hit a gas pipe and caused an explosion. Another spell that would have sufficed and caused a similar amount of damage you can find in, I believe it was called, Darkest Magic of the Twelfth Century. They came up with some wacky things in that span of a hundred years. Honestly, though? Rowena Ravenclaw came up with some of the most awful curses of which I have ever heard and that I think are best left to the ages. There's a description in one of the chapters of Hogwarts, A History, I think. I'm not quite sure about that. It's been a while since I badgered Remus (that's Professor Lupin to all of you) about it. In any case, Ravenclaw was very imaginative. I really feel bad for the wizard who had managed to piss her off that badly (I think it was Slytherin).
"The blurring of the lines between what most people consider good and evil is mostly the reason that I assigned the text that they used for Auror training back in my day. I know, it's ancient history, but that's a good book. Very informative.
Now, honestly, how many of you are going to be fighting in the war after you graduate? I don't care what side. They both treat you like scum if they catch you. Yes, Mr. Weasley, I meant something a little stronger, but I doubt the headmaster would approve of me swearing in front of students… About half of you? In my class, it was only a third. Granted, the rest joined some part of the war effort. What? Why am I calling it a war, Miss Rosier? Well, it is. I should also mention that I don't hold to calling Voldemort—for God's sake, don't twitch—by any of his idiotic pseudonyms, although Voldemort is a pseudonym in and of itself. I guess Tom Riddle didn't sound scary enough. That said, if you had a name that reminded people of a lame comic-book villain that wore green spandex, I suppose you would change your name, too.
"So, in this class, we call Voldemort by either his real name, his supposed name, or a deprecating shortening of either. A friend used to call him Tommy in honor of The Who's rock opera. She was possibly the most amusing woman I ever knew. Voldemort killed her personally. She probably didn't even shut up to let him AK her. That would have been like Dorcas. She was in my year, by the way. Gryffindor. I think only half of us are still alive. The Slytherins suffered similar casualties. Hufflepuffs tended to take support jobs, although a woman a couple years ahead of me was one of the best Aurors I've ever met, save, of course, Moody. I know you only met Crouch, but from what I've heard, he wasn't half as… Moody-like. To be honest, I think Moody went a little crazy in the last war, but, don't get me wrong, I have great respect for him. Oh, and of the Ravenclaws, well, most of them went on to university. Professor Vector, for instance, has a degree in ward-making. She had put what she was learning to good use.
"As I said, I am going to teach you how to defend yourselves. I don't care who you escape, just that you do. That said, under no circumstances will I be teaching you any Dark magic. I know enough to know that none of you want to know any. Just a side-note, the Cruciatus is actually a failed version of a more powerful curse that burns you alive from the inside out and then regenerates your internal organs. Apparently there have even been survivors of it. I wanted to tell you all of this up-front because each and every one of you deserves to live through this. Those of you who are up for joining the Death Eaters may grow to realize that you will be throwing your life away and that Voldemort is wrong. Those of you that are planning on fighting Voldemort need to know how to keep from being caught. Bellatrix Lestrange knows just as much Dark magic as I do, but the difference between us is that she uses it. The moment the body count starts to rise, and the newspapers report it, you'll learn to identify which group of Death Eaters was present for which attack. If it's too gruesome to report, that's Bella. She may be the worst, but there are many leading up to her who are almost as terrible. At least if you run into Voldemort, he'll just kill you. It may be painful, but it's almost guaranteed to be quick. So.
"Any questions?"
Auriga felt that this was a good time to interrupt the lecture. She vaguely wondered why she had thought that Sirius would be anything less than frank beforehand. That said, mentioning Dorcas Meadowes as a reason that the students should not be afraid to speak Voldemort's name was a little brazen, even for Sirius. Of course, if Auriga remembered Dorcas correctly, Dorcas would have very much approved of the mention of her rather bizarre habit. Then again, mentioning Lestrange and Pettigrew? Wait a moment. Lestrange was Sirius's cousin? Auriga knew Narcissa Malfoy was (she had only been two years ahead of them). Hm. You learn something new every day.
Auriga opened the door and snuck into the back of the classroom. One of the Weasley twins was asking a question: "So, is it true that most of the people that were put in Azkaban during the last war were not given trials, or is that just something that they made up in the papers recently?"
Sirius looked a little torn but replied, "It is essentially just another lie from the Daily Prophet. Most were given show trials, but we—the Aurors generally had overwhelming evidence against the defendants. The Lestranges, for instance, we knew had been Death Eaters since the beginning, but there was no way that we could ever touch them without catching either of them red-handed. It was money, mostly, but Rudolphus, as head of House Lestrange, held a seat in the wizards' House of Lords. Bellatrix always made sure she had some sort of alibi, and no one could ever pin a motive on her. Granted, Bellatrix never really needed or had a motive, but legally it's better to have one to give a defendant in trial. Reasonable doubt and all."
Miss Rosier, a Slytherin, asked, "Why do you not care what side we join?"
"Everyone deserves a second chance, Miss Rosier. I've been given third and forth chances. Not everyone is so lucky to get even one," Sirius replied. Auriga knew Sirius was evading the question. He would throw Bellatrix Lestrange back in Azkaban even if she hypothetically repented and became a nun. Oh, well. That was a puzzle for another day.
"Si—Er, Professor Black, I need to speak with you for a moment," Auriga broke in, feeling that Sirius might rather be stuck in a closet with Artemesia than answering potentially awkward questions from seventh years.
Sirius looked surprised to see Auriga and then immediately looked suspicious. Crap. Auriga had forgotten that Sirius had a rather accurate bullshit meter. "Right. That. We discussed this at lunch on Saturday, right?" he said, obviously feeling that Auriga better have something to say.
"Right. Uh, it's urgent. Very urgent," Auriga added for good measure. The seventh years were all staring at her like she was crazy. Granted, they were all of the opinion that she was batty and tended to chase after the Defense professors. Well, not this year, you little monsters! She was trying to play matchmaker and thus remain sane, so ha!
"Right," Sirius responded. He glanced back at the class. "Well, I better talk to Professor Sinistra. Um… Talk amongst yourselves. Or read the first chapter, if you haven't already. Hell, you know what, just don't blow up the classroom while I'm gone." Sirius then walked to the back of the classroom and said to Auriga in a low tone, "Now what the hell is going on?"
Auriga, of course, broke under interrogation and spilled the whole story once she had closed the classroom door behind them. Sirius, for his part, stood there and listened to her. "And so I thought that maybe it would just be best if you two had to talk to each other," she finished, leaving out the part where she had recruited Snape, because the potions teacher really took his threats seriously. Except for that one time he threatened to disembowel a student with a wooden spoon… Apparently the look on the student's face had been absolutely priceless. Then again, the threat was punishment enough.
Sirius stared at Auriga and sighed. "I have no clue why I'm going to go through with this," he murmured, looking defeated. Steeling himself, Sirius said, "Well, lead away."
"Oh, thank God," Auriga said and, grabbing his sleeve, directed him to the closet.
Sirius realized that saying yes to Auriga's crazy scheme was possibly one of the stupidest things he had ever done. That said, he really couldn't complain about the company—No, he had no right to think that, even if it were true. He did wish that Auriga had at least deigned to find a closet that wasn't so small. It was a little cramped. Yes, this had been a very bad idea. Very bad. He had thought that Auriga was exaggerating when she said closet. He thought she meant she had found the Room of Requirement by accident or a similar room that would have been actually conducive to a conversation instead of said very small closet.
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to axe-murder Auriga when we get out of here," Artemesia grumbled. By this point in time, they were a comfortable distance away from each other, which had not been the case when Auriga had shoved Sirius into the closet. However, in this closet, a comfortable distance away meant they were not touching.
Sirius made a noncommittal noise. Yes, the plan was backfiring. He just hoped it backfired on Auriga and not him. "Any idea how to get out?" he asked, hoping Artemesia would not spontaneously start crying again until they extricated themselves from the cupboard.
Artemesia glared at him. "Does it look like I have any idea how to get out of here?" she demanded irritatedly. "I would have left an hour ago if I did! For God's sake, I don't even want to know what Auriga was thinking! I swear to God and everything holy that if this is some sort of twisted revenge on Auriga's part for what happened four years ago…"
Sirius stared at Artemesia. "You locked her in a cupboard with someone," he stated.
"That's not the point, Sirius," Artemesia replied in defense. She groaned frustratedly. "If only I had remembered to bring my wand with me. I'm abysmal at wandless magic," she lamented. Shaking her head, Artemesia continued, "I honestly should have known Auriga would try something like this. When did she get so good at planning?"
"Maybe when you were locking her in closets," Sirius reminded her. "Or it could have been the intervening decade or so between school and when you two started working here."
"Very funny, Sirius." She paused. "I'm still not talking to you," Artemesia reminded him.
"Then what the hell are we doing?" he demanded, becoming equally as frustrated as her.
"Arguing, obviously," Artemesia shot back. "It's what we did for all seven years of school. I should hope you remember that at least. Or were you too distracted by, say, anyone female and breathing? Or those stupid pranks you and Potter were always pulling?"
"You're criticizing me? Ha. That takes some guts. I remember that you were always too fucking busy with your damn homework to even give someone besides Auriga the time of day. And then you sometimes even forgot Auriga existed!" Sirius shot back.
"Better than whoring myself out like some people!"
Sirius couldn't reply to that. Sure, he might have been a little loose with his morals back in the day, but—Actually, he wasn't quite sure why the comment hurt so much. Maybe because it was coming from her? "I guess I deserve that," he murmured. Well, might as well try to at least stay on speaking terms with her. "Shit, look, Artemesia, I'm sorry for everything. I know that doesn't cut it, but…" Sirius trailed off. Maybe he should have just stayed silent and let her think whatever she wanted of him.
"You've no right to just apologize and be done with it, dammit!" Artemesia shouted at him. Sirius flinched a bit. "You're not supposed to apologize. You're supposed to be the self-righteous pain in the ass you always were and just assume I'd forgive you!" It was obvious by that point that she was trying not to cry, and Sirius wished he had not listened to Auriga and taken the chance to be even more of an idiot. "You're not allowed to take my anger away, too! I want to hate you, Sirius, for all of it, but you just… Why can't I, dammit? Why did you have to come waltzing back into my life? It's not fair! It's not fucking fair!"
"You think I wanted to leave? Do you?" Sirius demanded. "God dammit, Artemesia! I fucked up; I know that. I wasn't thinking clearly, wasn't thinking at all, even." He looked off to the side, wishing he had a better control of his temper. He shouldn't be yelling at her. He should be telling her it was all his fault, begging for her forgiveness, and leaving, maybe even leaving once and for all and never bothering her again. It might be for the better, but it could be for the worse. Oh, God, but he didn't want to leave her. It may hurt to be near her, but he just couldn't leave.
"You never think about anything; you just react! It's not healthy! How could you leave me, Sirius? How? Was it really so bad that you had nothing left to live for?" Artemesia demanded anew, starting to sob. "You promised! You promised you wouldn't leave!"
"I'm sorry…" Oh, God, no. Not him, too. Sirius cursed himself. There was no way in hell that he was crying. Why couldn't he stop? He might as well beg for forgiveness. "Artemesia… Oh, God, 'Sia, I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me," he murmured. It would be too much to touch her shoulder, wouldn't it? Right? Of course. He had no right to even be speaking to her, much less… "I'm so sorry," he repeated desolately.
All of a sudden, Artemesia latched on to him and started sobbing into his chest. Sirius had not expected for the apology to have that effect, but he really did not care and returned the embrace. He had missed her so much; he hadn't even realized. In between sobs, Artemesia choked out, "This doesn't mean I forgive you, Sirius."
"I know… I know."
They just stood there for a long time after, not speaking. It took quite a while for Artemesia to calm down, even if Sirius had only managed to take control of his emotions just before she did. He let her go when she made to move away. They stayed silent for a couple moments more. "I guess this means we can't go back to the way we were," he murmured.
"It sure seems like we have," Artemesia said. "All that's missing is talking civilly."
"We didn't fight that much, did we?" Sirius asked desperately. He needed to be reassured that he at least remembered correctly, that they had been happy once.
"Not like that," Artemesia admitted with a sniff. "Little arguments here and there about stupid things, like what kind of peanut butter to buy, but almost never like that." She sighed. "What are we going to do?" she wondered. "We can't go on like this. The students will notice, (God forbid) our colleagues will notice, and we just can't! We aren't friends; we can't be, but we can't avoid each other either. What do we do? I can't think right now."
"I don't know, 'Sia. I don't know," Sirius admitted, equally confused. There had already been too much emotional upheaval for him in one day. Thinking about the future was not what he was looking forward to, especially if he didn't want things to turn out that they just decided to make their peace and that was that.
"Please don't call me that, Sirius," Artemesia murmured. "We aren't twenty-one and watching life go by through rose-tinted glasses anymore."
"As you wish," he replied quietly. Sirius was really starting to hate how his life had turned out, Azkaban aside. Maybe he would have been better off if he hadn't been cleared. "Could we talk about this some other day?" he suddenly asked. "When we don't feel like we just lived through the end of the world?"
Artemesia nodded, completely willing to do so. She sniffed and then cracked a grin. "You know," she said, "I'm still going to kill Auriga for this."
"Eh, maybe you should go a little easy on her," Sirius suggested, grateful for the sudden change of subject and lightening of mood. He had missed light banter with her.
"No. I'm not letting her off the hook that easily. Not even you can convince me to give her a lighter sentence," Artemesia declared. "She locked us in here, remember? Well, she threw you in here. She recruited someone else to lock me in here." Pausing, Artemesia decided it would be better to head off the question and said, "And, no, I don't want you to go after him."
"Snape? You locked Auriga in here with Snape?" Sirius realized, a little horrified. "That was certainly brave of you. How did you get them in here?"
"One could ask the same of us," Artemesia reminded him jokingly.
"True, but I assume that Auriga meant well by it," Sirius said.
Annoyed, Artemesia stared at Sirius and informed him, "When you've watched those two dance around each other for as long as I have, then you will know that that particular incident was well meant. It was to guarantee the sanity of the rest of the faculty."
"That certainly sounds familiar. Did they ever incite you to stab a coworker with a fork?"
"Shush. Don't try to talk me out of it. I need to be resolute."
"Whatever you say, love."
"I wonder if they've figured out that I unlocked the door hours ago?" Professor Sinistra suddenly wondered at dinner that night. Neither the Arithmancy professor nor the Defense professor had yet to make an appearance. Most of the professors decided they did not want to know.
"I'm going to pretend that you did not just say that," Professor Snape muttered.
Over at the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood started cackling.
"Well, I feel like an idiot," Artemesia declared after she had accidentally opened the door to the closet while trying to throttle her rather infuriating coworker whom, like it or not, she was comfortable talking to again. However, Auriga had to be the most infuriating of her coworkers for coming up with this crackpot scheme in the first place. Why did Auriga have to use Artemesia's plan against her? Wouldn't it have been slightly more inventive to have trapped them somewhere else that was possibly more awkward? Like, say, the Chamber of Secrets?
"Hm," Sirius replied, obviously not caring about the position that they were currently in. "Didn't expect that." Artemesia realized at that point that she was lying on top of him and scrambled to stand up. Amused by her reaction, Sirius likewise stood up and stretched. "How long do you think we were in there?" he asked.
Blushing like crazy, Artemesia answered, "I dunno. Something like an hour or two?" Then again, by the amount of light outside the window, it seemed like much more than an hour or two had passed. Oh, if this meant that she had missed classes, Artemesia was going to strangle Auriga, good intentions or no. Axe-murdering was nowhere near a good enough punishment. She glanced over at Sirius, who had also noticed the lack of sunlight outside.
"I'm hungry," he decided. Considering something, he paused before continuing, "Do you want to go down to the kitchens and skip the inevitable questions that will arise if we attempt to go to dinner?" Realizing going to the kitchens would be just as suspicious and that he sounded suspiciously like he as asking her out (No, bad Artemesia! No reading into things!), Sirius quickly followed the statement with, "Of course, if you want to go, I'll just avoid the Great Hall. That would probably allow us to avoid more rumors than, you know, not showing up at all."
Artemesia's face drained of blood as she imagined the remarks that would inevitably result. "Imagine what the seventh-years will be saying," she said, in a state of shock. "They'll notice; you know they will. Oh, God. The Weasley twins will start a rumor to put all other rumors to shame!" She did not even want to consider what the other teachers would do. Artemesia knew that they were probably starting up a betting pool, courtesy of Auriga, in all likelihood, as revenge for the one for her and Snape. Unless, of course, Auriga was still in the dark about the betting pool considering her. Artemesia started praying that she was.
"Well, I imagine that we're not the only ones who are missing," Sirius pointed out. He then seemed to consider something and said, "Then again, the class I left has those two in it, but, honestly, what are the chances that they will connect Auriga dragging me out of class with you leaving earlier in the day with Snape?"
"A friend of theirs, Lee Jordan, is in the class I was teaching when I left," Artemesia informed him frankly. "Oh, it's probably all over the school now," she lamented before she got a hold of herself and declared, "You know what? We're adults. We shouldn't be so worried about this. Besides, it's not like we considered our teachers' love lives back when we were in school. At least, the normal people among us."
"Dorcas insisted the old Divination teacher had the hots for the Charms professor," Sirius reminded her. "And then there was the time James had a betting pool in our fifth year about the Defense teacher who always acted a little off around the Arith…" The horrified look that had been on Artemeisa's face moments before had migrated and decided to take a holiday as Sirius' expression. "This is what karma feels like, isn't it?" he realized.
"Dinner in the kitchens sounds nice," Artemesia decided and suggested the following cover story: "I'll make up some excuse and say I was working in my office until late at night. You can have been off doing something extra-important for Auriga, like helping her get rid of doxies or something in the Astronomy tower. Auriga will have to back you up—she owes us."
"Yes. Right. Food. Doxies," Sirius repeated, obviously trying to figure out how in the world history seemed to be repeating itself. It was not like James had actually been speaking about something else, had he? Actually, if he had, Sirius would be relieved, for then it would have actually been code for, well, how long it would take for he and Artemesia to get together. Actually, that was something of a lose-lose situation, wasn't it? Either it was proof that students noticed their teachers acting strangely around each other or that his friends had maintained a running bet about him without him ever discovering it. Wait a minute, doxies? "What do you mean, doxies?"
"Live with it, Black," Artemesia replied in a good humor as they started to walk to the kitchens. "If you say it like that, your students are more likely to believe you. After all, they know Auriga has a couple of screws loose. They don't know we do yet, and that's on our side."
"But still. Couldn't it be something a little less… lame? Like an Erkling? Although I suppose that that might just serve to frighten the first-years. Then again—shit. I forgot. I mentioned the discussion on Saturday. I guess I could always blame it on the acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest and say Auriga is arachnophobic," Sirius said, rambling a bit.
A thought then hit Artemesia. "What do you mean, 'the discussion on Saturday'?" she demanded. Oh, if he had been at least partially behind the evil scheme, then she was fully prepared to going back to not speaking to him. "Was this your idea?"
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? Why would I pick a random broom closet? The Room of Requirement is much less cramped, depending. In any case, I was just asking her for advice, seeing as you had just run off all of a sudden," he explained, defending himself. "It's not like I asked her to come up with a crazy scheme. She just suggested how to behave a bit."
"Oh. That was nice of her," Artemesia admitted. They continued to walk to the kitchens in comfortable silence. See, Sirius could be a gentleman when he felt like it, Artemesia remembered. Unfortunately, he had rarely seen fit to do so in their school days. She recalled a particularly ace example of not seeing fit to act like a respectable human being in their fifth year. Granted, she supposed that he could almost be excused, seeing as it had been a dare. She still wondered how those four classmates hadn't noticed that they all went out with the git in the same week. Of course, Dorcas had one-upped him by going out with three different boys on the following Hogsmead weekend. That girl had been slightly mad and strangely kangaroo-like. "I miss Dorcas, that crazy twit," she murmured. "Why did this damn war have to…"
"I'll never understand, on one level, but it was our decision to fight, I guess," Sirius replied softly, "but the cost has been too high." He grimaced and went as far to say, "You know, Voldemort—" Artemesia did not flinch when he said the name; she was used to him talking as he did, and somehow whenhe said it, she didn't mind. "—has essentially done more damage to the 'pure' bloodlines than any amount of so-called 'crossbreeding' could ever do. If any of the Death Eaters stopped to consider it at all, they would realize that, thanks to them, the purebloods are in such a minority that their goal is unaccomplishable. I mean, my God, but the Meadowes and McKinnons, among others, have been completely wiped off the face of the Earth, and I doubt that by the end of this any of my family or its allies are left. Then Neville's the last Longbottom. I almost wish my mother was alive so I rub it in her face."
"You're not going to die in the war, Sirius," Artemesia said confidently. "Honestly. If you could survive the living hell that was the last war as an Auror, then you'll make it through this one as a noncombatant." She knew, though, that he was not the type to stand around while others were fighting for what was right. He would rejoin the fight sooner or later, damn the consequences. She loved and hated that about him. "Don't talk like that."
Sirius smiled wanly and reminded her, "Hey, the Defense position's cursed, and seeing as I'm not incompetent, a Death Eater, or Remus, it seems like the only way I'm getting out of the job is a duel to the death." He seemed to realize that the conversation had turned too morbid for Artemesia's tastes. Sirius probably did not like the content too much, either. "But, then again, I'm not one to follow tradition, am I?" he said lightly, attempting to at least cheer Artemesia up.
Artemesia smiled slightly at that and realized that they were nowhere near the kitchens. "Where in the castle are we?" she wondered. "The entrance to the kitchens is a hall over."
"Oh, it is? Wait, there's an actual entrance to the kitchens and not just the secret passage?" Sirius asked her, somewhat surprised by the turn of events. "Huh. Good to know." Since they were close to the hidden entrance, that was how they came to be in the kitchens. Once they stepped through the door, however, Sirius was ambushed by about half the house-elf staff of Hogwarts. Smiling, Artemesia really wondered how frequently he had come down here when they had been in school. Sirius asked her what she wanted for dinner, and she answered with her favorite comfort food, receiving a smile from him in return. She continued to watch him negotiate with the house-elves about the food, and a small voice spoke from next to her, saying, "Does Professor Vector, miss, wish her dinner also to be placed in Professor Black's office?"
Artemesia did not quite know how to reply to that. "Well…" she trailed off, fully aware of the fact that her face was probably red (why was she still acting like an immature schoolgirl?).
Thankfully, Sirius said jokingly to the house elves, "I wouldn't want to keep Professor Vector from her highly important work." Grinning, he said more seriously, "Maybe another time, Artemesia? Then again, that might cause some talk, wouldn't it?"
"Please excuse Winky, Professor Vector, miss," a familiar-looking house elf requested.
Artemesia wondered how badly she was blushing. Why in all of the possible worlds did Sirius have to be so flirtatious all the time? The man really hadn't changed since they were sixteen. Why did he have to phrase that last part like he was asking her out? She hoped he wasn't. They couldn't. Oh, she had missed him, but they would not and could not go back. It hurt to realize that, but it was the truth. There was too much between them. Too much. "It's fine," Artemesia finally replied to the house elf's statement. Meanwhile, Sirius was looking at her, a little confused. Did he not realize what he had implied?
"Dobby is glad that Professor Vector, miss, is not offended. Winky has not been very well lately, especially because of Winky's former master," the house elf, Dobby, informed her.
Sirius raised an eyebrow and looked to be thinking. "Where have I heard that name before?" he murmured to himself. Artemesia honestly could not figure him out. One second, he was analyzing her behavior, and the next he was trying to remember where he'd heard the name of a random house elf in the kitchens. He looked up sharply all of a sudden and asked of house elf who had last spoken, "You don't happen to be Dobby as in Narcissa's prat of a husband's former house elf, Dobby? The one that Harry told me he helped free two or three years ago?"
"Dobby is honored that Harry Potter remembers Dobby and thought to mention Dobby to Professor Black, sir," Dobby said excitedly. "Yes, Dobby's former master was a very bad master. Dobby never very much liked former-Master Lucius."
"He was always so… blond," Sirius agreed, staring off into space a bit. "Never quite figured out why Cissy liked him so much. I think James decided that Narcissa married Lucius because she wanted blond children."
"Do I want to know?" Artemesia asked disbelievingly. This conversation was starting to become absolutely ridiculous. Why were they speaking about the Malfoys? It was bad enough that she had to teach one, so it was particularly exasperating when a discussion of them caused her dinner to be delayed after having spent the entire afternoon stuck in a closet with her former (yet admittedly still oh-so-rakishly-handsome) almost-fiancé and realizing that the entire school would soon think that they had a 'thing' going on (which she had to admit she wouldn't mind so much). Wait, what? Of course she would mind if the student body found out! She then realized her hackles had not been raised at the thought of…
"Not really, Artemesia. James had some weird ideas about them," Sirius replied honestly to her question. He grinned and reminded her, "Well, we should probably go establish our alibis so our behavior isn't too conspicuous. I don't really want to explain all of this to Harry under any circumstances in the near future, especially the part where we're locked in a closet."
Artemesia smiled weakly, berating herself for her earlier thoughts. "Yes, you're right," she replied, starting to feel angry with herself for playing such a damsel-in-distress. "Well, I think I should be off. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast?"
Sirius smiled back a little hesitantly. "Of course, Artemesia," he answered in turn. "Maybe we could do this—the whole having a decent conversation thing—again sometime?"
Artemesia nodded and opened the door behind her, knowing that the house elves had probably already put the food in their respective offices. "Good night, Professor," she said, knowing the formality would annoy him but feeling that she had to have some control over the situation. Plus, he usually took that sort of teasing in a good way. At least, he once did.
His eyes dimmed a bit, but he continued to smile. "Well… G'night, Artemesia…"
She smiled briefly and left the room, closing the door behind her. She shut her eyes. Oh, that could have gone better. What had just happened, anyway? What had she been thinking?
They couldn't even consider restarting their relationship. There was no way.
And she would not tell him about her daughter if she could help it.
Notes: There's a plot in here somewhere. I promise. (At least we're not at the neverending day yet.) Question: does anyone have a preference as to which plot-line is more interesting (Terry, his ridiculous escapades, and the effects of said escapades or the romantic stuff)? Oh, and much thanks to Raeynnbeau and nycRENTgirl for their... help, such as it is (don't ask; for God's sake, don't ask). They're the plot-betas that give me plot bunnies. In any case, much thanks to my reviewers, and thank you all for reading. If you've the time, please review.
Coming Soon: The Death Eaters stage a prison break, and Luna informs Gemma of things.