Promises Defended

Chapter Thirty-Five: Debts Owed

She'd boated to Avalon and set the wards to screeching, knowing exactly how to get attention as any former Auror would. Frank took one look at her and locked her up, wisely keeping her far away from the students, instructors, and even the other prisoners. After setting Bill to guard her—and letting no one else know the identity of Avalon's newest prisoner—he called Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was there within minutes, soaked to the bone from the driving rain outside. After a quick briefing, he handed off his wand to Bill, dragged two chairs into the cell, and allowed the door to lock behind him.

"I didn't expect to see you here." Sirius sat down and offered the other chair to her with a gesture.

"Hello, Sirius."

Amanda Pieters looked up from where she sat in the corner, wet and dirty and seemingly unaware that she sat in a puddle on hard rock floor. Her hair was tangled and stringy, and dark circles made her eyes look sunken into her skull. She'd lost weight from when Sirius had last seen her, back before he'd wound up in Voldemort's hands. She'd been captured years after him and had broken under torture in Azkaban. Ever since then, Amanda Pieters had been a loyal and lethal Death Eater. Most of the Aurors had even forgotten that she'd been one of their own; they preferred to forget the nightmare situations like hers. Amanda Pieters wasn't the only Auror to go over to Voldemort's side during the long war; she was just the only one to survive this long. Her situation, though tragic, was inexcusable, and the Aurors had always reserved a special hatred for betrayers. But now she was back.

"Won't you sit down?" Sirius asked uncomfortably.

Amanda shrugged and rose, unfolding like a toy skeleton previously abandoned in that corner. She dropped unceremoniously into the offered chair, not meeting Sirius' eyes. Instead, she stared glassily at the far wall. "I guess you're wondering why I'm here."

Her voice was listless, made Sirius swallow. This shadow was nothing like the dynamic student of Ernie Jordan he'd once known.

"Yeah. The question's crossed my mind."

She grimaced; the expression might have been an attempt at a smile. "Because I'm done. I'm just…done."

Sirius' heart jumped up into his throat, did a backflip or two. He'd not even wanted to consider the possibility before, not dared hope. An hour ago, he would not have thought that this could happen. But here she was.

"Define 'done'," he prodded gently.

A long moment passed before Amanda answered, sucking in a deep breath that sounded like a sob. But when she did respond, her voice was surprisingly level, a testament to the self-control she'd always had.

"I turned to him out of fear and rationalized it to myself by being certain that he would win. But he's not going to…so here I am."

"Are you asking for asylum?" The rules said that he had to ask, but Amanda snorted.

"I don't much care. I don't want publicity. And I don't care if I die." Her dead green eyes finally met Sirius'. "But I'll tell you everything I know. It won't much atone for what I've done, but at least it's something. I owe the Aurors that much."

"Are you sure?"

He wasn't even certain what he was asking. But at least Amanda didn't hesitate before answering.

"Yeah."

"All right…" Sirius took a deep breath. "I'm sure we'll do a more formal interview process later, but for now...what do you think I need to know?"

"You're asking why I wanted to talk to you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm more interested in why you said that you had to see me immediately, and only me."

"Ah. That."

A long moment of silence filled the cell; Sirius fought the urge to shiver. Being in the cell had not reminded him of Azkaban until he'd stopped to think, but now—now he wanted to flee. He expected a Dementor to wander by any moment, expected to have to huddle down into a corner and struggle to keep any semblance of sanity, of control. Never before now had he realized how very similar Azkaban and Avalon were. Sister islands. What did that say about the future?

Thankfully, Amanda's hoarse voice tugged him back to the present.

"He's afraid of you, you know. He tries to hide it, but you're the only one he fears. Not…James. Not even Dumbledore, back in the day. Just you."

Somehow, Sirius found himself smiling. "Yeah. I know."

"I needed to talk to you now because I know what he's going to do with the Dementors," Amanda continued. "He's been trying to breed them…"

------------

"So, how are things?" Remus dropped into the chair and immediately found a sixty pound, two and a half year old Siberian Husky in his lap. Grinning up at him.

"Oh, you know." Peter smiled lightly. "Getting Joe settled in has been the hardest part."

"I'm sure."

Remus watched his old friend carefully, knowing that Peter had an extreme gift for understatement. He'd grown into the quiet, hard worker of the Marauders, first at the Ministry and now in Hogsmeade, almost single-handedly arranging for dozens of families to move and several children's adoptions. Although Peter continuously gave Madam Rosmerta half of the credit, Remus knew that Peter had done almost all of the legwork and had worked hand in hand with the French while they resettled Laçenne. He was the force behind the scenes, no matter how often he sat comfortably on the sidelines and gave others credit.

Joe, however, stole Remus' attention by energetically licking the headmaster's face and yowling in his ear. Remus obliged the Husky by wrestling with him for a moment, and then deposited the dog back on the floor.

Only to have Joe leap back up into his lap. Remus chuckled, cuddled him for a moment longer, and then put him down again.

Joe jumped back up.

Four separate times.

"You think he senses the wolf in me, or does he just like to be difficult?" Remus asked when all four Siberian paws were finally (firmly) planted on the floor. Peter had a hard time answering though his laughter.

"Oh, he just likes to be difficult," the shorter wizard answered. "He'll do that with anyone who will let him get away with it. Kind of like Sirius."

Remus snorted. "In which case, Sirius definitely transforms into the wrong kind of canine. I can see him as a Husky."

"So can I, but then James and I would never have been able to tell you two apart," Peter snickered.

"Hey! I don't look like this." Remus scowled at Joe and got his face licked in return. He turned his most innocent look on Peter. "Do I?"

"Not really. But I always did like sitting between your pointy ears. I would have had a hard time deciding if Sirius'd had them, too."

Remus laughed and leaned back in his chair, savoring the moment. He'd come to visit Peter for no particular reason save to relax. Having one of his best friends in such close proximity to Hogwarts was nice. He'd never been precisely lonely at the school (there was far too much to keep him busy for that), but he did often feel disconnected. With James at Godric's Hollow and the Ministry, and Sirius on Avalon or Grimmauld Place, Remus often felt like he was on the outside looking in. Having Peter nearby, however, changed that.

And it was nice to have somewhere where he could have a butterbeer or a touch of Firewhiskey without the entire school whispering that the headmaster was a lush. Which he wasn't.

He just wasn't Dumbledore's age, either, and although Remus often felt every one of his thirty-three years, he was only thirty-three. And he wasn't about to act like he was over one hundred just because he was Hogwarts' headmaster.

"Something funny?" Peter asked.

"Other than Joe?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I recognize that look on your face."

"What look?"

"Moony!"

Remus snickered. "Oh, that look. The 'I want to get drunk off my arse and forget myself' look?"

"Aha! That's it. I've caught you. I knew I knew that look." Peter grinned. "So, how 'bout it. Does the revered and responsible Moony want to act like he's still eighteen?"

"Twenty, maybe. Or twenty-five. Eighteen was before I knew how to effectively drink. Now I know how to properly pace myself so I can function in the morning."

"Good point." Peter flicked his wand, and a bottle of Ogden's Oldest flew onto the coffee table. Two glasses joined it a moment later. "Shall we?"

------------

By the time James' speech came onto the wireless, Remus and Peter were quite…happy. But neither was too drunk to use a Sobering Charm on himself (or in Peter's case, on Joe by accident before he managed to nail himself) and they turned on Peter's new blue wireless set to listen.

Some reporter was just finishing off her introduction to the speech as they tuned in. Neither really listened to her "canny" political analysis. They'd heard it all.

"'Least it's not Skeeter," Peter muttered. "Woman's a harpy."

"Don't insult the harpy community," Remus replied with a smile, slightly dizzy from the Sobering Charm. The feeling would pass in a moment. It always did.

"Good point. They deserve better than being lumped in with her." Peter scratched Joe's head absently and the dog yowled back. "But seriously, someone needs to bring her up on charges for massive slander. Frankly, I'm surprised James hasn't yet."

"Hard to keep the moral high ground when you bring a reporter up on charges."

"'Cept for the fact that most of the Wizarding community would thank him, 'cause if James put her out of business, we wouldn't have to read her trash."

"No one really believes her, you know," Remus pointed out reasonably.

"That's what I thought before I got into politics." Peter rolled his eyes. "You ought to hear what the Americans say when they read her articles. They think she's serious reporter, Moony. It's bad."

"Well, you know how Americans are. They're—"

"…and gentlemen, thank you for coming." James' voice blared out of the wireless as Peter's Instant Volume Charm kicked into effect.

"Shut up, he's on," Peter interjected redundantly. Remus just chuckled and kept his mouth shut. James' disembodied voice continued:

"I am, as always, pleased to bring good news to the Wizarding community at large." They could hear the smile in James' voice. "And today is better news than usual.

"As most of you have heard, the combined Aurors of the Alliance Against Evil struck a deadly blow against Voldemort just over a month ago, killing or capturing all but approximately thirty Death Eaters. Evidence shows that this number is holding steady. Accordingly, we can only assume that Voldemort has not managed to recruit additional followers—even the most opportunistic seem to realize that his is not the winning side."

Several voices started to shout questions, blurring together with the background noise, but James overrode them.

"Additionally, in cooperation with the French, Hogsmeade and Laçenne have been jointly resettled. Hundreds of brave witches and wizards—some coming from the four corners of the globe to assist those in need—have resettled the two communities that Voldemort destroyed. Together, they are sending a message that the world need fear no longer. We must be wary, for the war is not over, but we can now be certain that victory will come if we continue to fight for it."

Cheers in the background.

"Furthermore, I now must confirm the rumors of an attack on the Ministry. Fifteen days ago, two hundred and fifty-one Dementors attacked the Ministry of Magic. However, Ministry personnel and Aurors combined to work an experimental spell, destroying the Dementors."

James lowered his voice as the crowd finished gasping.

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that Dementors cannot be destroyed, only driven away. But you are wrong. Years of research led to this moment, and it has now been proven that Dementors can be killed. And they have been. We do not know how many of the foul creatures Voldemort has, but losing two hundred and fifty-one of them is certainly a blow.

"Finally, I must present to you the newest piece of information that the Ministry has learned. Contrary to years worth of rumors, Dementors cannot be bred. Voldemort has long since claimed to be breeding them, but we now know this is a lie. Dementors do not reproduce, and they never will."

A long moment of silence passed before the crowd started to roar. Vaguely, Remus heard James trying to say something else, but his voice was drowned out by the crowd. For several moments, Peter's wireless popped and crackled with cheers. Then the cheers abruptly faded, and the female reporter's voice blared out of the speakers again before Peter could kill the volume.

"In other news, longtime Daily Prophet correspondent Rita Skeeter has been fired. Daily Prophet administrators offered little comment, save to say that her interests and those of the company have diverged and that she will be looking for new work.

"Ms. Skeeter is not available for comment at this time, but can undoubtedly be trusted to let the Wizarding World know her side of the story soon."

The two Marauders exchanged smiles, and Peter turned the wireless off with a flourish. "Well. How about that."

------------

Long before Remus and Peter had finished that first bottle of Ogden's Oldest Firewhiskey, James joined them. Sirius was unavailable on Avalon (typical James to hint at the reason and refuse to give details), but the three of them celebrated and relaxed, enjoying spending time together. They got to do so far more rarely as they got older, as families and responsibilities and war got in the way. Gone were the days when four boys spent every waking moment side by side. They were still just as close, but life often increased the physical distance between them.

They did not have many meaningful conversations (at least not in the grand scheme of the universe. To the Marauders, differentiating between the different flavors, colors, and textures of every type of Wizarding candy ever made was very significant, even if they had grown up). There was no need. The objective today was to have fun, nothing more. And maybe to rib James just a little for the adoring crowd that had tried to tear souvenir pieces off of his robes off earlier that day. (Peter and Remus ribbed him about that one every five minutes or so, just to see James turn redder and redder each time. Remus had already made a mental note to tell Sirius so that they could mock James to the fullest.)

Somewhere during the evening, however, Peter turned serious.

"Sirius is going to try to face him without us, you know."

Remus sobered immediately. A quick glance at James revealed that he'd done the same. Still, a long moment passed before either of them could reply, and it was James who found his voice first.

"Yeah. We know."

Peter bit his lip. No one spoke.

There didn't seem a reason to. They all knew what they'd do.

------------

"There's another issue beyond the Dementors. Something you have to know about before it's too late."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Too late for what?"

"For you."

He sat back in his chair and studied her, for the first time wondering if this might be a trap. A ruse. The information Amanda had given him seemed genuine, but there was absolutely no way to verify it. Had Voldemort overplayed his hand this time? Anything was possible.

"I'm not sure I follow you," Sirius replied after a moment.

Dead green eyes focused on him. "He wants to kill you. And now he thinks he knows how."

Deep breath.

"Tell me everything."

------------

Ye Other Author's Note: If you're a member of the UU Yahoo Group, you know the reason for the delay between chapters (if not, and you're very curious, please trundle over there to find out). I am sorry for the drought, and look for PD36: "Against the End" coming up soon. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of this chapter!