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The Lonely Choices of a Strange Season
Moody to Harry in OotP:
"... That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally..."
Chapter Twenty-two
"Mobilus," Dorcas said and watched as the snake carvings slithered around the wooden frame of the door to allow her entrance. Access to the hall was only granted when Voldemort summoned and she purposely came early to gather information before she faced the Dark Lord.
She surveyed the room, trying to recognize as many people as she can despite the identical flowing robes and the white masks. There were more wizards now than the last time she was here, evidence of the frenzied recruiting Voldemort's supporters were doing.
Trying to be inconspicuous, she moved among the Death Eaters, picking up snatches of conversation. She skirted a few badly aimed spells as she went by where some of the more novice Death Eaters were dueling and tried to get close to the long tables where the more intellectually driven of the group- some probably under Imperious- were researching what looked to her like spells. The books were similar to the ones she had seen when she wandered into the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library during her prefect days. The other books were indecipherable, written in a strange hand, most likely ancient. Dorcas made sure she had a good look at these, knowing that once she recorded her memory, Dumbledore- and perhaps Jillian- would be able to interpret them. When more than one of the wizards started looking at her suspiciously, she moved towards another part of the room. She generally avoided the shadowy corners, where she knew couples or even groups would be engaged in trysts. In flagrante delicto.
The monstrous stone fireplace where she had seen Voldemort's Potion Master had around eight cauldrons simmering simultaneously in its green flames. Remembering Dumbledore's interest in the fact that Voldemort had a potion master, Dorcas headed in that direction. If she could catch a glimpse of the ingredients and they could hazard a guess as to what potions and poisons Voldemort had in his arsenal.
"Meadowes." A hand clamped down on her elbow, jerking her away from the fireplace and the potion master.
"Rabastan, don't manhandle me." Dorcas replied evenly, pulling her arm away from his grasp.
Rabastan Lestrange merely bowed and waved his hand in the direction of one of the alcoves.
Red eyes peered at her from the shadows, followed by a pale, bony hand motioning her forward.
"Rabastan is only obeying my orders, Meadowes." The voice hissed at her and Dorcas willed her feet to move, dodging Voldemort's pet snake that slithered around her feet. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Voldemort's form solidified, the edges of his robes first, followed by the thin hands resting on the arms of the throne he was sitting on.
Don't look into his eyes. Be alert.
"Meadowes." His voice echoed as he called her forward, but Dorcas wasn't sure if he was speaking or if it came from inside her head.
At the bottom of the dais, Dorcas knelt and bowed her head, fearing eye contact. She felt his hand rest lightly on her head. His long fingers rasped softly against the cloth of the hood of her robe. But there was no warmth from his touch; there was no body heat radiating through the cloth.
"I have a special task for you, my child." His voice was soft, pulling at her mind.
"I will do what you ask, my lord," Dorcas replied, keeping her head bowed.
Her mind was getting muddled and she knew that Voldemort was weaving some spell on her, but she has no idea what. This was the first time she encountered a charm or spell like this. She needed to focus her mind. She concentrated on her own voice, the alternating rhythm of her heartbeat and the itch on her knees where the craggy stones were biting into the skin.
"My child, you will get the plans for the trains running from Platform nine and three quarters."
"My lord, those plans are kept in Edgecombe's office. It will take time." Her voice sounded hollow. Dorcas couldn't understand why her voice sounded as if it came from outside her body, as if from the other end of a long tunnel.
"You are an intelligent and capable witch of superior blood. You will bring it to me as soon as possible."
There was no room for disagreement, Dorcas knew and so in a hollow voice that she hardly recognized as her own, she answered, "yes, my lord."
8888
Waiting. It's funny, Dorcas realized, how the word waiting only applies to situations, which were wanted. Birthdays. Vacations. True love? Dorcas resisted the urge to snort at her thoughts. When things weren't desired, it was hardly waiting, more like a stay of execution.
For some reason, she realized that she has been spending a lot of time waiting- definitely the wrong word- for Regulus, who copied his propensity to be late from the Malfoy mentality that the rich wait for nobody.
To be fair, she didn't think time spent with Regulus as awful as she once did. It wasn't enjoyable either. It just was, she supposed. A fact of life, like having to eat, going on attacks, attending Death Eater meetings or reporting to Tutela. After two weeks of meeting him for lunch or dinner or just having him bring her home after work, waiting for him was slowly becoming part of her routine.
She nursed her glass of wine while she watched the comings and goings of the young elite of Wizarding Society. Expensive wines were the du jour; fifteen year old brandies were downed like water. Billywig stings were passed along together with some muggle narcotic rolled like a cigarette.
I have to ask Sirius about that one.
There had been ten Death Eater attacks in the past five days according to The Daily Prophet. More actually, if one includes muggle attacks and the ones stopped by the Order or the Aurors but those weren't reported in the Prophet.
But that was out there. In this club, the party was just getting started and the Warbling Wonders, the next 'in' thing, were performing so who cares about a few dead bodies being discovered.
Dead bodies...
Dorcas closed her eyes for a moment and tried to erase the image of the people that they were unable to help during the Death Eater attacks. No matter how much quicker they acted, no matter how they tried to think ahead of the Death Eaters, both wizards and muggles alike still died during the attacks. The sheer number of the new Death Eaters was overwhelming. Then there were the ones under the Imperius. Plus the Inferi.
"Hi," Regulus greeted as he slipped into the booth next to her and broke through her thoughts. "Have they been playing long?"
Dorcas opened her eyes and gave him a big smile, trying to put some heart into it. She felt bad about having to deceive him. After spending majority of her time with him, she realized that minus the political stand, Regulus Black was actually a nice guy when he was being himself and not trying to imitate Lucius.
"No. Third song."
"Good. I haven't missed much. I've been wanting to hear them live." Regulus nodded his head in time with the music. He draped one arm around Dorcas and pulled her closer. For the first time in two weeks, she pushed her unease aside and allowed herself to relax in his arms and was suddenly struck by a feeling of deja vu. His warmth, his arms around her was oddly familiar yet wrong somehow.
She mentally shook her head and tried to concentrate on the questions that she needed to ask him.
"How was your day?" Dorcas tried to be heard over the din.
"All right."
"So how'd it go?"
"How'd what go?"
"Oh, come on Reg. You know what I'm talking about."
Regulus stopped watching the stage and looked down at her. His forehead was furrowed; his eyes were dark.
"You really want to talk about that now?"
"I was just wondering about your day. Small talk. I asked, you said all right. What else was I supposed to ask? How are your parents?" Dorcas asked annoyed. She knew she should backtrack. Whenever they were together, she always managed to put in some discussion about Death Eater business and Regulus was starting to show displeasure. But she couldn't help it. Voldemort was planning something big- information floating around the Incolumitas Division and the few snatches of conversation she could get in the lair pointed to that- and it somehow involved the note that she dropped off at Grimmauld Place weeks ago. Her parents' political leanings affected her position among the Death Eaters; they still didn't trust her completely and the only link she had to that information was Regulus.
Yet, instead of getting annoyed like she expected, Regulus smiled. "Nothing more mood breaking than talking about my parents, huh. Yeah, DE stuff is definitely better."
Dorcas turned towards the band and clapped when they finished the song.
"I was just a bit worried about you with this big 'thing' you keep meeting about. I don't really trust Lucius to have your back, Reg."
"Lucius is a very skilled wizard."
"I'm not talking about his abilities." Then trying again, "it seems as if what you're about to do is pretty dangerous."
"How much more dangerous can it get, compared to what we do?" Regulus squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry."
"At least tell me what you're dealing with. Breaking into the Ministry of Magic?"
Regulus snorted. "We don't need to break into the Ministry. We have enough men working there."
"Attacking Hogwarts?"
"Let's just enjoy the music, Cassie."
"Werewolves?" Dorcas tried, remembering the werewolf scare that Emmeline brought up in the last Order meeting she attended.
The stiffening of his body and the concentrated effort he put into watching the band told her she was on to something.
"I hope what you have planned isn't on a full moon."
He rolled his eyes. "What's the point if it isn't on a full moon. That would just make them bloody normal."
"This coming full moon? That would be so soon to lose you to a werewolf bite." She gave him a worried look and inwardly sighed in relief when his expression softened.
"No. Most likely the following one." Then Regulus took something out of his coat pocket and passed it to her under the table. "Dorcas, I didn't want to give this until later, so that at least we can enjoy the night. But since we are talking business, might as well..."
She reached under the table, realized that it was a piece of parchment and dropped it into her purse.
"It's from Lucius. That's it. No more shop talk."
Regulus flashed her a smile that looked eerily like Sirius' then dropped a kiss to her forehead. "Let's enjoy the song."
She paused to finally listen. She had to give him credit, he did have good taste in music.
The band ended their performance a little past one and when they stepped out of the club, it was raining. Regulus insisted on walking her home, rather than the of the two of them Apparating so it was two by the time she had slipped into her apartment and was able to read Lucius' note. In it was a detailed plan on a new attack.
Taking out her communicating speculum, she called Sirius. A moment later, a disheveled looking and yawning Sirius responded.
"Somebody better had died." Sirius grumbled.
"Sorry. I got information on a mission but I wasn't informed on a date and time." Dorcas gave him an apologetic shrug.
He nodded, finally alert. "And it might be scheduled for tomorrow," then frowning when he realized the time, "I mean tonight."
"The mission calls for a five man-"
Raising his hand, Sirius interrupted. "Why don't we just meet? I was planning to give you the shifty nine and three quarters plans James drew up tomorrow- this morning anyway. We can't have Voldemort's supporters waiting. Two weeks is long enough as it is."
"Okay."
Sirius frowned. "No, on second thought, it might be too dangerous for you to meet me at Knockturn Alley this time of night. We can do this tomorrow. Just tell me about the mission."
"No, I'll meet you at the shop. I'll be safe. Besides, getting the plans would be good. I can owl it to Malfoy before he decides to drop by the office. Again. The bastard's been hounding me all week."
He shot her a worried look. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
8888
The rain tapped an unknown rhythm against the canvas awning in time with the soft rush of the water draining from the streets. Dorcas pressed her back against the cool glass of the shop door and kept her wand pointed towards Knockturn Alley.
A dark shape materialized across the street and dashed through the rain. He was only a few feet away, before she recognized Sirius' face through the sheeting rain and she moved slightly to her right to make room for him under the awning.
Once he had taken shelter from the rain, he shook his head vigorously, water flying from his hair.
"Hey!" Dorcas wiped at the droplets on her face.
Sirius flashed her a charming smile as he held the door to the shop open for her.
Dorcas took a few tentative steps forward, then stopped, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, shuddering at the sight of the stuffed puffskein in the low light. The snapping shut of the door behind her made her jump. Then something warm- Sirius' hand, she supposed- settled at the small of her back causing the skin to tingle and she felt as well as heard his whisper against her ear.
"We could cast a spell you know. Lumos."
The glow from the tip of his wand illuminated the cramped antique shop and made Sirius' eyes turn a deep gray and she was suddenly conscious of how close they were. Dorcas concentrated on not looking at him.
She reached for her own wand, tucked inside her sleeve.
"Lumos."
"Careful, Dorcas."
He was pointing at something by her feet and she followed his hand, realizing that she had stopped just in time. She would have tripped over a box of oak divining rods, priced at ten knuts a piece, which looked remarkably like muggle bathroom dowels.
"I was afraid we might be seen from the outside." She whispered.
"The windows are charmed not to show anything on the inside at night." He explained as walked her towards the back of the shop, keeping his hand at the small of her back. She looked at him from over her shoulder, trying to gauge his reaction, and instead found that he was focused on keeping them from tripping over the knickknacks that spilled from the overladen bottom shelves onto the floor.
"You know, I never really pictured you as a shop owner. If you asked me years ago in Hogwarts what you'd be doing, this wouldn't even cross my mind." Dorcas said conversationally, distracting herself from the comforting warmth of Sirius behind her.
Sirius gave a sarcastic laugh. "Wasn't planned. Dumbledore asked because he needed someone listening in Knockturn Alley. So I quit Auror Training and reopened my Uncle's shop."
Auror Training was exactly what she imagined Sirius would be doing and she told him so.
"Don't you miss it?"
"Yeah, when I first quit, I missed it every day- the duels, the evasion and capture training. Especially when we'd meet up with Lily and she'd tell me a bit about her day. But you sort of get used to this." He shrugged. "To be honest every now and then the lack of action gets to me. I was thinking of rejoining in a few years. But Dumbledore needs me here, now. Besides, if it weren't for this, I wouldn't have been your contact."
His last statement surprised Dorcas and she looked up in time to catch him flash her a smile. It was quite unlike any of his previous ones. It wasn't mischievous and he wasn't trying to be charming. It was warm and genuine and the tightening in the pit of her stomach scared her.
The office at the back of the shop was small and crowded with unopened inventory. The desk that occupied most of the space was piled up with parchment and quills. Judging from the numbers on the parchments, Sirius was trying to keep the books. Dorcas thought the room reflected perfectly Sirius' apathy towards being a shopkeeper.
He pulled up chairs for them and offered her the more comfortable of the two.
"Thanks for getting me wet, by the way," she said jokingly, hoping to cut through the awkwardness she was feeling.
She could hear his soft breaths of barely controlled laughter. "Dorcas, you looked like you needed a bath."
"So you decided to take one for me?"
He ran his hands through his hair then flicked the water towards her. "A little water doesn't hurt anyone."
"You might want to rethink that philosophy before you try that again." She retorted while waving her wand threateningly.
"Is that a challenge?" He was grinning mischievously, his eyes twinkling.
She wasn't sure why her cheeks felt warm but she ducked her head to avoid looking at him, and retrieved instead Lucius' note from inside her robe.
"Malfoy's instructions."
Sirius read the note, nodding occasionally. "I'll see that the Headmaster and Moody gets it. So it's the Rileys this time."
"Aye. I'm just hoping well be able to change this one." Dorcas said emphatically. "There've been so many attacks and too many deaths."
"Hey," Sirius reached out his hand and squeezed hers. "Hang in there. We'll get the bloody bastards."
She took a deep breath. "Thanks."
"Although, are you aware what Renton Riley is known for? You might not be as nice if you find out."
"Riley senior supposedly funds Death Eater missions. At least that's what the file in the Department of Mysteries say."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "But not what you've heard from Voldemort's supporters."
She shook her head. "Lucius pretty much oversees operations, including funding and he doesn't really share information. But then, nobody in the group really knows much beyond what their assignment is. It's his cunning that keeps his name clean. You'd be surprised but the Ministry probably has a longer list of suspicious activities in your cousin Adromeda Tonk's file than in Malfoy's"
"Bloody facts of life," Sirius said sarcastically. "By the by, Riley has no loyalties except to his Galleons. My father introduced him to me in one of those 'soirees' my parents used to hold. Father would laugh with Riley like they were old school chums. But once he and Malfoy were alone he would talk as if the Rileys of the world were the source of everything that was wrong. Father thought that Riley was trying to buy his blood line respectability."
"Well, not everybody can be pureblooded and nobody can choose how they are born."
"True. And after attending a few of those parties that Mother threw, I don't know why anybody would want to be a pureblood. Boring bunch of buggers."
Dorcas laughed. "Anyway, I suspect Riley grew a conscience, pulled out his funding. I'll try to see why he's being targeted, but it's going to be difficult. Lucius doesn't exactly share his thoughts with us."
Then she pulled out a package from her robes. Sirius could hear its contents tinkling softly. "It's for Dumbledore."
"Another scary view of Voldemort's lair?" Sirius half joked.
Dorcas bit her lip and shook her head. They were Keepsake Glasses, which contained her memories of the information she got out of Regulus regarding the mission involving nine and three quarters. She needed to tell Sirius about her 'relationship' with Regulus. She knew he would appreciate hearing it from her rather than finding out some other way but she could not bring herself to offer an explanation that would be interpreted as an excuse.
"I'm sorry," she said instead.
"What for?"
"Never mind."
Sirius shot her a confused look but placed the package carefully in his coat pocket and handed her a miniaturized parchment.
"The nine and three quarters plans."
Dorcas inserted the plans carefully into a secret pocket in her coat. It was awhile before she realized that Sirius had gone quiet and she found him looking at her intently. Averting her eyes, she said, "I have to go. It isn't safe for me to stay here too long."
"Yeah." His voice had gone very low. "You have to go first. I'll leave ten minutes after you."
Dorcas made sure that the plans were virtually undetectable in her coat. Then she checked her wands: her main one sat comfortably in the palm of her hand and the extra one was hidden up her sleeve, ready to fall into her palm with a flick of her wrist.
All of a sudden, she felt Sirius' arms envelope her from behind. She felt the rising and falling of his chest against her back and his breath softly ruffling her hair. Into her ear he whispered, "be safe."
And just as suddenly, the embrace was over. Dorcas left the shop without looking back. She felt she couldn't have, even if she wanted to.
Sirius tried to sleep the remainder of the night but found himself tossing and turning. When sleep finally came, it was filled with pieces of his earlier conversation with Dorcas and fragments of dreams, which left him with a heavy feeling in his limbs and viscera. Later that day, when he tried to recall the dreams- their meanings, which seemed perfectly obvious in his sleep, eluded him and all he was left with were memories of deep warmth surrounding him, the intoxicating scent of lilies and a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
He realized the futility of trying to return to bed, which was why by first light he was on his motorcycle and already making his way towards Hogwarts.
8888
"Ah, Sirius." Dumbledore greeted. He waved his arm and the sleeping cap perched haphazardly on his head disappeared. "A bit early but there is always no time like the present." Scones with jelly, tins of cookies and some tea appeared on a table together with a couple of chairs. "Perhaps some breakfast first."
Sirius nodded wordlessly and mostly just fidgeted with the food and sipped his tea while Dumbledore tucked in.
"As much as I wish this is a social visit, Sirius, given our times I suppose this is on Order business," Dumbledore began once breakfast was consumed.
Sirius handed over the parchment with Lucius instructions and the parcel containing the Keepsake Glasses that Dorcas gave him. "There's a new target. It's the Rileys this time."
Dumbledore read the instructions Lucius gave Dorcas then opened the parcel. Inside, four Keepsake Glasses were nestled by a cushioning spell, bound together with a note which he read.
The intent expression on Dumbledore's face piqued Sirius' curiosity. Dorcas' strange reaction when she gave him the Keepsake Glasses troubled him because in the past, even during the time when they didn't trust each other, everything that she had found out from the Death Eaters she had shared with him. But this was something that she didn't even explain to him. And then she apologized.
"You have already given Dorcas the plans?" Dumbledore asked interrupting Sirius thoughts.
"Yes Albus."
Dumbledore peered inscrutably at Sirius over his half moon glasses then he sighed. "I am going to ask you to tell Moody about the attack. We will have the Aurors handle this tonight. There should not be an Order member, even those who are Aurors, out there when they attack the Rileys. Voldermort should not, in any way connect the thwarting of his plans with the Order. We need to do this to avert any suspicions away from Dorcas.
"You see Sirius, the plans for tonight's attacks do not include Regulus and Dorcas expressed some apprehension towards that in her note to me."
"I am not entirely certain what Dorcas has shared with you regarding her and Regulus but in the past, they have mostly been assigned to the same missions. Although that has not always been the case, but majority of the missions they have done together since they were invited to join the Death Eaters within a few months of each other."
"But not with the Riley attack."
"No, Sirius." Dumbledore agreed. "She believes that because of Regulus', of your family connections with Lucius, they've assigned Regulus to a major attack, one that will devastate both the muggle and our world. Unfortunately, she is still in the dark about what they are planning."
"But they have not included her?" Sirius asked. "She does come from an old family."
Some of the paintings of the old headmasters were beginning to stir behind their frames, the cacophony of snores becoming softer as they strained to listen to the conversation.
"The Meadowes is a pureblood family that can trace their ancestry to the early days of our country, but your lineage stretches further and is older than hers. And while your family has been making alliances, the members of hers have been known to be rebels, even back then. They may have accepted her because of an ancient bloodline, but she is constantly trying to prove herself to the Death Eaters."
"And you want us to be careful because any wrong move will make them suspicious." Sirius replied astutely.
The sigh Dumbledore gave was long and the twinkle that was so often in his eyes were dimmed. Sirius was inadvertently reminded of the Headmaster's age. "Yes, particularly now. She will try to gain confidence into the people she suspects are included in that group. This will place her under closer scrutiny. You have to be cautious when you talk to her."
Sirius nodded. The thought of their early morning meeting haunted him, reminding him that they could not risk meeting like that any more. The hug he gave her had been an impulse, something he still did not understand and had not intended to act upon. Yet now, knowing that they would probably not see each other any time soon, he felt something he could not recognize, something akin to relief that he had acted on the impulse.
"There are other measures that will have to be set in place," Dumbledore continued. "Your brother will also have to be observed."
"I can try to talk to him more often," Sirius began. "We can be-"
"It is quite all right Sirius, with everything that I am asking you to do. I have somebody else in mind to look into your brother's business." Turning around towards a silver gilded frame lined with green curtains, Dumbledore called out loudly- "Nigellus."
The occupant of the painting remained in slumber. Sirius snorted. He remembered his great, great grandfather- the Old Slytherin Headmaster, as he and Regulus used to call the occupant of the portrait- with mixed feelings of annoyance and fondness. Phinneas Nigellus would taunt him whenever he was home, insulting his choice in friends and threatening to tell his parents about the pranks that he had been called into the Headmaster's office for. And Sirius was sure Nigellus actually told his parents about some of the pranks. But Nigellus was insightful to talk to at times, especially when it was the entire Black family versus him and nobody, not even the serving elves, were allowed to speak to him. He was also a formidable opponent in wizarding chess.
"Nigellus." Dumbledore called out again.
"Were you calling me, Dumbledore?" Phinneas Nigellus asked, making a big show of yawning loudly.
"Thank you for taking the time to awaken, Nigellus," Dumbledore said wryly. "There is something that I need for you to do. I need you to observe Regulus Black."
"And report to you, is that it?" Nigellus tossed silkily. "Don't you have a spy to do that for you?"
"I understand that my request is an imposition, particularly observing a family member. However, you are better placed to observe Regulus from your position."
"I will not be brought down to the level of your Unspeakable, Dumbledore! She is as much a blood traitor as her parents! An abomination! To use the blood of her ancestors and become an impostor!" Nigellus shouted. Gone was the smooth, baiting tone.
"I will not tolerate such talk in my office, Nigellus." Dumbledore replied firmly.
"You place too much faith on your spy, Dumbledore, but are you certain of her loyalties? The last I heard she was engaged to my great, great grandson. The idiot was soft enough to propose."
Sirius tried to hide his surprise at what he heard, but he shouldn't have bothered because all of the portraits and even Dumbledore himself was far too distracted with the ongoing argument to notice.
"Certainly" Dumbledore drawled, "if her loyalties to me were suspect, then you wouldn't be too troubled about her being against those who believe that only Purebloods deserve to live. And there is a reason why rumors are rumors. Now, do I have your cooperation, Nigellus?"
"You are correct in saying that you impose too much Dumbledore." The Slytherin headmaster then promptly fell asleep despite the growing commotion around him.
"Insubordination!" Dilys Derwent shouted. "You cannot refuse the present headmaster."
"We are obligated to serve the current holder of the office." Another former headmaster shouted.
"I don't understand this refusal, Nigellus. Are you protesting the thought of spying on your family? After all, you have been doing so ever since you were made into that painting. Or have you forgotten all those girls that your grandson used to make out with that you were so imposed upon to observe?
"Artemesia." Dumbledore said warningly.
"I am protesting the highly unintelligent and offensive rule that states we are obliged to assist the current Headmaster in his time of inadequacy." Nigellus huffed despite the background of shouts from outraged portraits. "The extracurricular activities of my family members are not Hogwarts' business."
"Well, gee, protest all you want, Headmaster. See if you can change things now that you're dead." And with that, Artemesia Potter gave him a grin and fell asleep.
"I should have expelled that insolent girl when she was a student here." Nigellus muttered under his breath.
"But it wouldn't have boded well to have removed the best witch of her class. Besides, Slytherin wouldn't have won the house cup without her," Dumbledore mused. "Perhaps you shouldn't have hired her to teach here, but those are things in the past which we cannot change without dire consequences. However Nigellus, I understand how difficult it is to divulge the private lives of your family, but at this point it is necessary and I would be grateful for the cooperation."
Nigellus gave a resigned sigh and when he replied, he finally regained his smooth voice. "I hope you remember that one day Dumbledore, you shall also be hanging up on this wall."
"He's always been like that," Sirius said sheepishly after Nigellus walked from the edge of the frame probably to appear in his other portrait in 12 Grimmauld Place.
"There's no need to apologize for your ancestor, Sirius. He can be ornery at times but he has always acceded to my wishes. Now, if you can hand give this to Moody."
Sirius pocketed the note and said his good byes. He made his way to Hogsmede and collected his motorcycle from the alley behind The Hogs Head.
Engaged? She and Regulus.
Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't Regulus tell me?
His mind bombarded him with the thought as he flew to Aurors Headquarters.
AN:
First order of business: In my last ANs, when I thanked the reviewers and readers, I think I misspelled one of them writing Angel instead of Angel I guess this is the fanfic version of erratum. Sorry about that and thank you for reviewing.
As for those who read and reviewed (je suis une pizza, Janessea., Kendra- the hyper one) the last chapter, thanks! You guys give me the much needed steam to go on. Although don't get me wrong, it's great fun to write this.
Second order of business: I think I have to explain why I have Remus acting suspicious. I don't think Sirius and James were just being idiots, believing that Remus was the spy. If their friendship was as deep as JKR says it is, then it had to have worked both ways- the two not being trustful enough and Remus acting suspicious. And Peter can't be as bumbling as some depict him to be if the three, all pretty smart guys, didn't suspect him. As for what Remus was doing? I actually mentioned it already in passing in one of the Reminiscence chapters.
And now a hint on chapter twenty-three: wherein news of "the engagement" flies around faster than brooms in a Quidditch game and our heroine learns a lesson in vigilance.