Terry sat uncomfortably in the dining room chair, hoping the Order of the Phoenix meeting would be over quickly. He did not like the attention he had been given during his explanation of the plan, and he liked any continued interest even less. Thankfully, most seemed put off enough by the fact he was a Death Eater, renegade or not. Unfortunately, Remus Lupin was one who still seemed to want to talk to him, which was why he would like to leave as soon as possible. Granted, he did want to talk to Sirius about Dorcas and her idiocy, but that could be put off.

For various reasons, Terry had decided he would best resume the use of illusion spells during Order meetings, if only to dissuade Molly Weasley from the idea that he was underfed. He got that quite enough, thank you very much. Plus, there was a slim chance Lupin, Tonks, Shacklebolt, or, God forbid, Moody would actually recognize him. And, honestly, that would be slightly counter-productive, because he would then have to run away from Sirius at the speed of light, which would be quite unpleasant. Plus, Terry preferred to save his inevitable conversation with Kreacher for another day.

Speaking of current and former denizens of number 12, Grimmauld Place, Sirius seemed concerned, and he undoubtedly found Terry's decision to resume use of the spells suspicious. Sirius tended to overreact about everything, but that had only been in Terry's experience and when they had been younger. Times had changed. Then again, Sirius might have been concerned because Terry was wearing a glamour that hid all of his scars and hid the evidence that he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. He might not have had much sleep lately, but there was no reason to look it. He hadn't been subjected to Bella's presence recently, so there was no problem.

Fine, so Terry was a nervous wreck. There hadn't been much to do at the Embassy recently as compared to earlier in the year, although he was apparently supposed to be present for the Christmas party. He had managed to extract himself from that situation by reminding the events coordinator that Vesta was still in the hospital. She was due to come home in a couple days. She didn't need monitoring much longer, but her doctor wanted to make sure she hadn't been poisoned with any delayed-activated potions. Vesta was doing much better, but it didn't seem like she would be able to make the trip to New York for Christmas. (Honestly, Terry wasn't sure how he felt about that. Yes, it was nice for the extended family to get together for Christmas, but Terry wouldn't terribly mind passing up the endless discussions of Quodpot and American football his male in-laws would inevitably drag him into. At least his father-in-law talked about baseball instead, which Terry found somewhat interesting.)

Terry belatedly realize he may have wanted to listen to Tonks' report, but he was otherwise occupied mentally. He knew he would make a better impression on the Order if he paid attention, but whatever she was talking about seemed to have to do with Ministry security. Maybe around the Prophecy? It would make sense, although Terry didn't see why they should try to put an extra guard near or in the Department of Mysteries. If anyone but Potter or Voldemort tried to remove the thing, it would be of no use. That, and it wasn't like the Death Eaters were—No, that was the new plan, wasn't it? In that case, one guard wouldn't be enough. The Death Eaters were going to try to break in so that Voldemort could steal the Prophecy. There was another Grand Master Plan and everything. The new one had been coauthored by Lucius Malfoy, Esq., and Rodolphus Lestrange, Esq., so, obviously, it was foolproof.

Terry supposed he should have spoken up about the plot, but Snape hadn't, either, and they both had been present for the vast majority of those meetings. He could only assume Snape had already informed Dumbledore of the general outline of the plan. Terry's job wasn't to keep the Order informed of that sort of information anyway. His purpose was the destruction of the horcruxes, and he was well on his way to accomplishing that, even if he had somehow managed to have recruited Sirius and Dorcas. Well, they had recruited themselves, really. He wished they hadn't. It wasn't right that they be sucked into his neverending quest. Terry wished his superiors in the Agency had let him accomplish as much of the mission as he could before Voldemort had been resurrected. It was frustrating, to say the least, that they hadn't.

The meeting concluded after another half hour, and most of the Order started to file out of the dining room. Terry stayed in his seat. So did Sirius. Fortunately, Tonks had abducted Lupin as she chirped about dinner. That was one less firestorm of accusations to worry about. Terry was pretty sure Lupin knew, now more than ever. He found it slightly odd that Snape hadn't left yet. True, Severus had left the room, but Terry had noticed his friend had stayed behind to talk to Dumbledore about some more sensitive material. Oh, well. Probably didn't mean anything, anyway.

"You look more distracted than usual," Sirius mentioned quietly. Terry didn't even want to fathom what Sirius was thinking, but they were here to talk business, weren't they?

"It's the holidays. You know how it gets," Terry replied absentmindedly and swiftly remembered to whom he was talking. Quickly, he amended, "Well, relatives and everything. Usually, we go to Vesta's parents' house, like the rest of her sisters, their uncle, their aunt, and their respective families. It's a lovely time, if you don't mind children trampling you underfoot or being blackmailed into looking after them."

Sirius smiled and said, "That seems to be a completely foreign concept. Happiness? At the holidays? God forbid." Terry remembered a particularly vivid memory involving tinsel, Narcissa, and a yule log. And then there was the time with Bellatrix and the exploding fruitcake. Andromeda had captured that disaster on film. Well, Terry was particularly distractible today. Lovely. With a sigh, Sirius started over, "White, you're on good terms with Snape, right? I need your help talking to him."

Terry stared at Sirius in undisguised surprise and a degree of suspicion. "Why?" he asked. "I can't be the best person you know to help you speak to Snape. I mean, he thinks I'm a lunatic." For various reasons, the majority of them legitimate. Terry continued, "But what do you need me to talk to Snape for? If I pitch anything to him, I can't promise he'll listen."

Sirius grimaced and explained, "Look, White. Remember how I need to take time off my job? Well, guess who I'm asking to take my place?" Sirius didn't look too happy about the circumstances, but Terry didn't think he would be. Sirius needed that sort of order in his life. Throwing away what may have been the only way he had hung on to his sanity for as long as he had after justice was served could push him over the edge. Terry did not want to cause another of Sirius's mental breakdowns, so how could he—in clear conscience—help Sirius remove one of the few pillars of stability in his life?

"I can't, Sirius," Terry answered. He was going to catch hell for this, but he felt better refusing to be the one who helped further destroy Sirius's life. Terry could live with being an enabler, but the architect of his demise was just going too far. He had ruined his brother's life before, and he would be damned if he did it again. "Look, we both know you're going to take off time at least until Easter Hols, but this will probably run for the rest of the year. I know it sounds stupid, but I do not want to be accountable for whatever happens," Terry said. He did not want to explain in the slightest, because that would mean he would have to lie to Sirius, and he did not want to lie. No more. Sirius always could to tell when his brother lied.

Sirius looked at Terry oddly for a moment before clarifying, "I'm not asking you to talk to him for me, White. I was just asking how you manage to talk to him peaceably. Snape and I don't exactly get along, you know." Terry knew that well. If Bellatrix was first in line to kill Sirius, then Severus was lucky number two. Trying to make peace between Sirius and Severus was like trying to stop the tectonic plates from shifting.

"Oh, well, I suppose—" Terry started, but there was no point in furthering this line of conversation. Sure, he could tell Sirius to be civil, but Sirius had previously tried to be civil and failed. That was about where Terry's expertise ran out. "Why are you asking me, then?" he asked. "I manage to keep from having Severus permanently pissed off at me, but I think that's due to extenuating circumstances, like him recognizing me, which would mean I have absolutely no advice for you in all honesty. That would explain why he's been so decent lately."

"He recognized you?" Sirius asked, obviously trying very hard not to look too curious. As usual, he was failing rather magnificently, although Terry was starting to wonder if everyone could read Sirius as easily as he could.

Terry then realized what he had just admitted and hoped he didn't look like he wanted to slam his head into the table. Why had he said that? "I think so. It doesn't matter. He'll stay silent," Terry said quickly, hoping Sirius wouldn't press the subject. He didn't want to lie to his brother more than he had to. He wasn't lying about Severus, anyway. He'd been the one who saved Terry's life back at the cave, and keeping silent about said incident to Voldemort was indicative of whose lot Severus had thrown in with. Terry wondered what he had done to inspire that kind of loyalty. He had been rather pathetic back in the day. Maybe that was why? If so, it was quite the ego booster.

"I believe you," Sirius said, sounding vaguely defensive. "Well, I just thought I'd ask, if you had any advice about talking to Snape," he reiterated before switching topics. "Nice job, by the way, with your briefing earlier. Nice and clear, if a bit vague. Everyone in the Order nowadays is trustworthy, so you could have said more."

"It's better this way," Terry insisted, relieved the former topic of conversation seemed dead. Still, maybe he should warn Sirius never to mention Lily in Severus's presence unless he wanted to cause a nuclear meltdown. "What they don't know won't hurt them, and what the Death Eaters can't find out won't hurt us," Terry continued.

Sirius nodded and said, "Yeah, I know. I just wish it wasn't like that." There was a pause, and Terry felt like he knew what was coming. He had been spared the lecture about the illusions thus far, but delaying it in perpetuity was asking a bit too much. Sighing, Sirius asked, "White, are you okay? I'm only asking because you've become a master of disguise again. You do know you don't have to hide from the Order, right?"

And now it was time to make up an excuse. Although, telling the truth might work just as well… Terry explained, "I don't want to be recognized, Sirius. Look, you know I have been less than honest about my identity." Understatement of the century. "So, I expect you'd understand I don't want more people recognizing me. Plus, plausible deniability."

Sirius was silent for a moment before admitting, "White, I do get that—honestly—but you really should trust people more. Hypocritical of me, I know, but what's the risk?" Terry could think of many reasons right off the bat, not the least of which was Sirius's reaction. "The people currently in the Order are loyal, and if you can trust Snape with the secret, then—"

"That's different," Terry cut in much more harshly than he intended, but old habits died hard. More calmly, he reiterated, "It's different, Sirius. He saved my life, and I don't know most of the people in the Order. I can't afford to, either. Like it or not, I'm still a spy. For both sides."

"Your loyalties certainly don't lie with Voldemort," Sirius pointed out, insistent. This conversation was going nowhere, fast, and Terry was beginning to remember why the two of them had stopped talking. Sure, they had the same beliefs, but they had always disagreed on how the war should be fought. As a noble Gryffindor, Sirius operated in a world where wars were honorable. Terry was more of a realist and knew there had to be people who did the dirty jobs so others didn't have to. Emotional attachments only led to more pain in the long run. Terry wasn't proud of what he was doing, but it had to be done.

"No, they don't. However, at some point, I will have to do something that will result in the deaths of people on this side, and I'd rather not feel the guilt of being directly responsible for killing a friend," Terry said, his voice steely. He knew enough guilt.

"You make it sound like it's a foregone conclusion," Sirius said, sounding somewhere between disgusted and irritated. It figured; it really did. "From what I can tell, it sounds like you've done a damn good job of avoiding that," he continued before clarifying, definitely angry, "I meant keeping your mouth shut, White, not refraining from human contact."

Terry tensed. He couldn't put up with this. God damn it. Why did Sirius have to go and start this damn conversation again? It was bad enough the first time. He didn't need a repeat of it fifteen years later. Unfortunately, his temper was getting the better of him again, too. Angrily, he challenged, "Really? Letting Bellatrix out of Azkaban doesn't sound like it! Neither does admitting to them that I am a spy! Sirius, I almost got my wife killed!"

Sirius seemed to be calmly watching him now like he was some sort of a bug under a microscope. Granted, Sirius still seemed angry with him, but that was a given. Instead of completely blowing a gasket, Sirius sighed and said with a hint of frustration, "I know, White, but you're going to drive yourself mad if you don't find an outlet for your anger, and if you don't want an outlet, then you have to distance yourself from the violence." He grimaced and murmured, "Take Dorcas for instance. You don't think that's how she really is, do you? Believe it or not, she made sense once. We distract ourselves so we don't have to think about the fighting."

Terry did not understand Sirius sometimes. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to be angry, but he was reining in his anger. After half a minute of silence, Terry said, "That doesn't make any sense, Sirius."

"You sure?" Sirius asked, starting to look concerned again. He looked pensive for a moment before continuing, "Look, White, you need to calm down. If you're such an expert about the Death Eaters, then you know they won't hurt your wife again. Any idiot could tell that her death would throw you solidly in our camp. If they really want you on their side, which they seem to, then they wouldn't dare strike again."

"That's not the point," Terry shouted, standing up. "And you don't know that! For all I know, all bets could be off! Goddamn it, Sirius, stop being so condescending!"

"I'm trying not to, White," he replied, not giving up any ground. "You're the one who's being difficult," Sirius muttered in frustration shortly thereafter. Terry chose to ignore that. Sirius was many things, and patient was not one of them. Neither was he understanding, normally. His annoyance seeping back into his voice, Sirius resumed, "If you really want to waste time feeling sorry for yourself, White, then go ahead, but you'd be better off trying to fix the problem." Terry glared at him, but Sirius grit his teeth and concluded, "If you have to blame someone, for God's sake, stop blaming yourself. The only bloody reason any of us are in this bloody situation is Voldemort's bloody quest for bloody immortality. It's his fucking fault."

"Why do you find it necessary to try and fix my problems? It's not like we have any real reason to be civil to each other," Terry grumbled, sitting back down. It was true, anyway. They didn't. Maybe there was too much bad blood between them, even if Sirius wasn't aware of it. And Terry thought he might be able to tell Sirius the truth!

"Yes, we do. It's our duty to make sure Voldemort is rendered mortal. If we don't, then we are at fault for every life he and his flying monkeys take," Sirius said earnestly, belatedly adding, "No offense, by the way."

"None taken," Terry replied distractedly, more as a reflex than anything. He wanted to stay angry with Sirius, but unfortunately the bloody bastard had given him the mental image of the Order singing that blasted song from The Wizard of Oz over Voldemort's dead body. Resigned to his fate, Terry said, annoyed, "You're despicable, Sirius. That was cheap."

"But it worked," Sirius pointed out, quite proud of himself. His smile refused to go away, and Sirius continued, "Anyway, we should get down to business. I am taking a leave of absence, and I am going to ask Snape to replace me. As a peace offering, I'm asking Dorcas to request that Slughorn return to Hogwarts. She'll be guaranteed to lay it on thick. The plan is set in stone, and nothing you can say will change my mind." Terry had been about to protest, but Sirius's expression left no room for discussion. "How about you?" Sirius asked.

Terry cringed. Well. He had hoped they would not discuss that, but he supposed Sirius should know if only to prevent the ruse from falling apart. "I'm looking for my brother," Terry admitted, feeling like an idiot.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly confused. Terry didn't particularly blame him. He would have blamed him even less if Sirius knew the truth, but he didn't so Terry wasn't going to think about it. Hesitantly, Sirius recalled, "I thought you said that your brother was dead."

Terry thought he had said that he had lost his brother, but maybe he had implied otherwise. He probably had implied otherwise, but Terry knew he hadn't flat out said his brother was dead. It would make for an awkward conversation later if he had. Terry corrected, "No, it's more complicated than that, but the official story is that I finally found a lead on where he might be and am looking for him. That way, if anyone asks where I am, they're told I'm on leave, looking for my long-lost brother."

"But it sounds like you know where he is," Sirius pointed out.

"We're… estranged," Terry explained in a tone of voice he hoped sounded hesitant, wondering why he dragged himself out of bed in the morning. It wasn't worth the effort.

"Oh," Sirius said, respecting Terry's privacy for once. Sirius really was slightly out of his mind, but Terry did wonder what he was thinking. Of course, Terry wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Hesitantly, Sirius asked again, "Are you sure you don't have any advice for talking to Snape?"

Terry decided to be a bit more compromising and said, "Whatever you do, don't call him Snivellus, and for God's sake, do not mention Lily."

Sirius winced. "Right. I'd almost forgotten about that," he said, feeling guilty. In other news, White was completely out of his mind. Well, that was harsh. White felt guilty about what had happened to his wife, which was understandable, but he seemed to be just going over the edge. Sirius couldn't blame him; he had been worse in the past.

"Good thing I reminded you then," White said, surprised that Sirius had picked up on the fact that the reason James and Snape were mortal enemies had more than a little to do with Lily, Snape's best friend from childhood and the "Light of James's Life." Sirius wasn't as dim as everyone liked to think, but White seemed to underestimate him greatly.

Sirius decided he should suggest the next charitable thing on his agenda. "So, White, are you sick of Dorcas yet?" he asked, knowing there would be chaos if White accepted the offer Sirius would soon make. Granted, Sirius wouldn't mind if Dorcas painted his flat red and gold, but she was the least neat person in the entire universe. Actually, the chaos was probably driving White insane, what with how straight-laced he seemed to be. Sirius found it amusing, now that he thought about it.

White blinked in surprise and looked suspicious. "Are you offering to let her rampage around your flat?" he asked hesitantly. There was no reason for White to be so wary. Sirius wasn't cruel, after all. For most people, Dorcas was only acceptable in small quantities. To be honest, Sirius still wondered how Frank, Remus, and he had survived living in the same flat with her for a year. Frank was obviously the smartest, having escaped first.

Knowing he would indeed come to regret what he was about to say, Sirius replied, "Yes, White, I am indeed offering to let Dorcas 'rampage around my flat.'" A thought then struck Sirius, but he decided not to ask about White's living situation. He probably wasn't going to move back in with his wife, despite what had happened. White was an idiot for trying to distance himself from everyone he cared about. Well, now that Sirius thought about it, White didn't seem to consider his wife as one of the people he emotionally distanced himself from, and he certainly didn't seem to put his children in that category, either. "Dorcas can't be helping much right now," Sirius said.

White grimaced but admitted, "She is driving me a bit mad." It might have been an understatement, but White tended to be honest. Sirius wasn't sure. He could tell White put too much pressure on himself. For example, the idiot had been under the illusion that he could have found and destroyed the horcruxes on his own. Sure, White probably could have, but he also probably wouldn't have lived to see the end of the war. The guilt seemed to be tearing him up, too. Sirius was pretty sure White had been able to ignore the guilt until his wife had been injured. At that point, all his repressed feelings broke loose. The result was the highly irritable mess sitting across the table from Sirius.

"Sorry, then, that I didn't take her off your hands sooner," Sirius said, hoping White wasn't going to start another argument. "My apartment has been empty since the beginning of the school year, but you know Dorcas. She would have found some way to set fire to something old, expensive, and irreplaceable."

With a wince, White nodded and admitted, "Well, she's managed to completely rearrange my flat, but she can cook decently, so we've been living on a steady supply of frozen pizza in addition to ramen and instant soup." Sirius had wondered why White was completely incapable of taking care of himself. His utter lack of culinary expertise apparently did extend to the microwave. Sirius idly wondered if White had the magical ability to burn water. He wouldn't be surprised.

Sirius then remembered the second reason he had brought Dorcas up. "Say, White, did you tell Dorcas where you were going tonight?" he asked. "I would have thought she'd jump at the opportunity to see Moody and wreak havoc."

"I told her the truth. I said I was going to an Order meeting. She told me to tell Tonks she said hi, but Dorcas wants to make her grand entrance later," White explained quite seriously. He seemed to be thinking for a moment before saying, "Sirius, look, um, I know we can complete the mission in about a week, but I think we may want to take our time. Think about it. I mean, if we want to make sure no one makes a connection between the two of us, then we shouldn't be seen together frequently." Sirius was aware of that particular snag in the plan that took a single week. It would have required lots of planning over a small amount of time. That behavior would have raised the suspicion of various people who would like to see White dead and Sirius back in Azkaban or dead.

"You're not omniscient, White. I get it, but you are right about the time frame," Sirius said, hoping he hadn't sounded confrontational. What he meant was that White was on the right page, but his first comment came out a bit wrong. "What sort of time frame do you think would work? I don't know as much about the horcruxes as you probably do, but I didn't find any information on what happens to the creator when a horcrux is destroyed."

White relaxed a little, likely glad he hadn't been forced to admit he didn't know everything. He had taken some offense at Sirius's unintended quip, but he got over it, proving White's nerves weren't completely frayed at the edges. "Exactly," White admitted, glancing toward the door a little paranoiacally. "I figure that we could destroy all of them, and you-know-who wouldn't notice—I cannot believe I just said You-Know-Who—but I'm not positive."

"So you don't want to take the risk. I get that, White," Sirius said, wondering how anyone had been able to take White seriously enough to assign him a mission this important. That said, maybe he figured it out beforehand, so when he volunteered whoever hired him killed two birds with one stone. "What sort of time-frame do you suggest?"

"Something where we meet about once a month," White murmured, sounding unsure. "I figure we go after the diadem first, then the cup. After that, we should retrieve those easily acquired before trying to take on the final horcrux we can destroy." Sirius tried not to look suspicious. The final horcrux they could destroy? That implied that they couldn't destroy at least one. "You don't want to know, Sirius," White told him quietly. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Sirius set his teeth before replying, "Fine. I won't ask. For now. However, your idea sounds good, but we still need to find something with which to destroy the horcruxes." He wasn't sure he should be sharing this information, but it pertained to the mission, and Dumbledore had to have at least suspected Sirius would tell White. Sirius mentioned, "We can't access the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, unless one of us turns out to be a Parselmouth who's willing to admit it." And, honestly, there were easier ways. "Secondly, we can't borrow Gryffindor's sword. Dumbledore said that he would gladly let us use it if we brought the horcruxes to his office, but I think that's too much of a risk. It's horrible to say, but there are members of the Death Eater Youth at Hogwarts. Plus, Umbridge would probably notice you, Dorcas, and me carrying random knickknacks around the school. She'd try to fire us all until she realized I was the only one who worked there. In any case, we should probably avoid the school after I go on leave so we don't draw suspicion. Therefore, unless you're good with fiendfyre, we have a problem."

White was silent for a moment but murmured, "You're right about Hogwarts. I didn't expect we could get access to the Chamber without Potter, anyway, and monthly trips to the Headmaster's office are suspect. As to fiendfyre, I can cast the spell, but I don't think I could control the fire adequately. If we need to raze a forest, I'm your man, but keeping it contained in a flat is impossible." He obviously hesitated before he continued, "Wouldn't the Black family vault probably have a goblin-forged weapon?"

Sirius made a face but admitted, "Yeah. It does. A number of them. We'd probably want one of the non-cursed ones. If we can get one of the charmed ones, we'd be really lucky." Unless, of course, the only sword left was a completely normal blade. That, or they were stuck with a crossbow or something equally useless. He wondered if the goblins had ever thought about making modern projectile weapons. A shotgun would have been useful.

"Too bad we can't just dump the horcruxes in a volcano," White said, irritated at their lack of a reliable and safe way of disposing of the horcruxes. A volcano wasn't exactly safe, either, but that wasn't the point.

"We could try a volcano with the ring," Sirius suggested, ignoring the glare White sent his way. It wasn't his fault he had a good memory, and White had asked for the Silmarillion to read when he was in the Hospital Wing. "'Course, we can't go to Mount Doom…"

Apparently Snape had passed by the door at that point, because he stopped suddenly in the doorway and stared at Sirius and White for a moment. White was attempting to look innocent, which made Sirius wonder if White had recently made any non sequitur comments about Mount Doom in Snape's presence. Judging by Snape's exasperated expression, Sirius decided that White had. In an irritated voice, Snape deadpanned, "For God's sake, Black, please tell me you did not just suggest that you and White try to destroy Voldemort by throwing a ring into Mount Doom. It will only give him ideas."

Sirius considered making a sarcastic comment but restrained himself, wondering why Snape had stopped in the doorway in the first place. Actually, White had probably said something previously and aggravated Snape to a degree that he had to warn everyone about White's general insanity. Sirius found that amusing. However, he remembered he had business with Snape, who looked generally suspicious because Sirius hadn't started a shouting match. To make sure the greasy-haired git didn't leave, Sirius corrected, "No, he started it. That said, remember how you wish I was still rotting in Azkaban and you had the Defense job?"

Snape stared at Sirius boredly, glanced at White, who was playing innocent, and resumed staring at Sirius boredly. Sighing, he decided to play along and said apathetically, "Yes, Black."

"Well, I'm going to go off and possibly get myself killed or thrown back in prison, so you can have my job," Sirius said cheerfully. He was going to get the most enjoyment out of this as he could. It wasn't every day he could do Snape a good turn, and Sirius wanted to make sure he confused Snape as much as possible in the process. Snape had raised an eyebrow and looked skeptical, so Sirius pressed on, "Don't worry about the potions job, though. I found a replacement, and I'm sure Dorcas can convince Slughorn to resume teaching, so you don't have to worry about Dumbledore saying no. I mean, when the alternative's Umbridge, who would choose her? Oh, and Dorcas is also on the suicidal mission, so you don't have to worry about her dying your hair pink like in seventh year or ever having to talk to her again."

Snape looked over at White, who was in a cooperating mood. With an innocent look on his face, White said honestly, "He's not lying."

Snape blinked once or twice before sighing exasperatedly. Disgruntled, he said, "I'm sorry, but I thought for a moment there I had been dreaming again, but obviously this is a nightmare. I'm going to leave and hope to Merlin I wake up before pink flamingoes rain from the sky." Sirius wondered why Snape had initially thought that this was a dream. Sirius would have pegged it for a nightmare based solely on the setting, even if James had appeared out of nowhere and said the past fifteen years had been his idea of a prank and no, he and Lily weren't dead, but they had run into the Prewett twins in Australia a while back. Judging by the fact Snape hadn't moved from the door, Sirius realized he might have fried Snape's brain, which would be most unfortunate.

"Black?" Snape suddenly said.

"Yes?" Sirius replied, glad he hadn't fried Snape's brain and therefore did not have to explain to Dumbledore why Hogwarts was in need of a potions professor in addition to a Defense teacher. The thought of explaining to the Order that they had lost their only competent spy—White emphatically did not count—had not been particularly pleasant, either.

"You aren't lying, are you," Snape stated with annoyance, regarding Sirius as if he were a slime. Sirius thought it was an upgrade from carnivorous mold, but then most things were an upgrade from carnivorous mold. He started to wonder if he was a bit nervous, because he was feeling kind of hyperactive and rambling mentally.

"I already told you he wasn't!" White protested ineffectively. Sirius and Snape both ignored him. White seemed resigned to that fact but fumed silently nonetheless.

"No," Sirius replied, still obnoxiously cheerful, "I'm not. There may have been a 50 percent chance of flamingo showers this afternoon, but I am not lying." Yes, Sirius was definitely nervous about Snape telling him to go to hell if he started speaking his mental nonsense.

"Now you're just mocking me, Black," Snape said flatly, preparing to ignore Sirius, who wasn't completely sure if Snape believed him or not. Well, the mocking was counterproductive, but it was Snivellus. He couldn't resist.

Fine. He should act like a responsible adult before Snape walked away and refused to listen to him. Couldn't jeopardize the outcome of the war, after all. Serious for once, Sirius calmed himself down and said, "All joking aside, Snape, you will take the job, right? I don't want to condemn the children to weeks, much less a semester, of Umbridge's teaching. She's the scum of the earth. You know all the material, and…" Sirius couldn't think of what to say after that aside from generally insulting Snape. He ended up saying, "Well, the enemy you know, right?"

Snape sneered and said sarcastically, "Oh, thank God. I was afraid for a moment that you had been put under the Imperius or abducted by aliens and replaced with a pseudo-you, the idea of which is horrifying in and of itself." After a moment, however, he continued, "In my estimation, I suppose you've elevated yourself from the level of the ebola virus to a carnivorous slime mold with this out-of-character act of… whatever your intentions truly are." Sirius was not sure if that was a compliment. Snape continued contemptuously, "Whatever the case, if you can convince Slughorn to replace me or, even better, find another potions master none of us know, then I would be glad to take your job. I hope you and Meadowes find disturbing ways to commit suicide by proxy before either of you decide to contribute to the gene pool."

"No death wish for White?" Sirius asked, deciding the younger man had been left out of the conversation for far too long.

Snape leveled a glare at Sirius and replied flatly, "No. It's too late. He's already bred."

"Oh, well, that's a pity."

"I'm still sitting here, you know," Terry protested indignantly, arms crossed.

Sirius and Snape continued to ignore White. They were apparently too busy staring each other down. Sirius did say, "Well, that's all." He paused before he continued, "By the way, we never had this conversation, and we certainly have never been anywhere near civil. The mere thought is disturbing. On a related note, why flamingoes?"

"Go fuck yourself, Black," Snape snapped and departed from the room with a swoosh of his robes, looking thoroughly like an overgrown, disgruntled bat. Of course, that meant that Snape indeed did agree with what had been said. Mission accomplished.

"That was bloody brilliant," White said sarcastically. Sirius had to fight to keep from slapping White upside the head and settled for grinning as White sat in his chair, looking thoroughly petulant. The younger man seemed to be less upset than earlier, although Sirius might have been imagining things.

Sirius shrugged and said calmly, "Well, I did try to be civil."

White groaned and slammed his forehead against the table, causing Kreacher to appear. Kreacher started to make some generally acidic comment about Sirius and how loud he was before noticing it was White who was making the noise. The house elf wisely said, "Kreacher thinks it best to leave the masters alone," and disappeared as quickly as he came.

Sirius grinned and commented idly, "Hey, White, I think Kreacher likes you." For his part, White continued to bludgeon himself with the table.

Notes: Happy Holidays! Also... Er, my uber-late update has absolutely nothing to do with Doctor Who. At all. Or my marathoning it during the holidays. Seriously, though, I was without internet for a while, and I apologize for the delay in updating after the holidays.

Coming Soon: Hermione and Ginny have a conversation, Gemma overhears a conversation, and Regulus deals with the aftermath.