3nd October

Sirius came to, slumped in his ropes. How much time had passed? He struggled, but he had been bound around his waist now too. He could barely move his aching muscles anyway, he felt so weak. His right hand throbbed from the punch he had delivered Rabastan earlier, and the two whip-like slashes to his chest felt hot and almost itchy, but not particularly painful.

There was a suspicious pulse surrounding his left eye that suggested something much less like a wand, and much more like a fist, had come into contact with it at some speed recently. He was glad he didn't remember that. It must have been the trolls, as he couldn't imagine Voldemort succumbing to such muggle-worthy tactics. He'd probably break his scary, spindly, spider fingers before doing much damage anyway.

Tied the way he was he could only see one corner of the room, there was no way to tell if he was being watched. He cleared his throat and asked, 'A little help mate?' knowing that this would provoke any Death Eater present into mocking him.

There was no reply; he was alone in the room. In fact, the only sound he could hear was a quiet ticking somewhere on his left.

Gathering his failing strength, he pushed with his feet trying to move the chair around to see the clock, but only moved a tiny bit. He tried again and again, until finally with his head turned as far as it would go, he could see the oversized carriage clock sitting on a shelf to the right of the wall-mounted billiard cues. It was just after seven.

If James hadn't been able to convince them to stay away, his grandfather – and Hermione – would be arriving in less than an hour. Then a horrible thought stuck him, something his tweaking brain had overlooked on the walk to meet the inhospitable Mr Riddle. James wouldn't be able to get past the security enchantments at Grimmauld Place. He was not on the list of trusted people.

Sirius started to panic – less than an hour. He had to get away before they arrived. He had no wand. He was tied so tightly to the chair … their prisoner … he would still rather be prisoner here, than Azkaban he thought, but that didn't help the Hermione situation … Azkaban, he'd escaped from there – he was quite proud of that, even if he hadn't done it yet.

He escaped from there because no one knew he was an animagus. 'Idiot.' he muttered aloud.

He took a few calming breaths, concentrating … focusing on the feeling … he drew it in … then pushing from inside his chest he let the feeling expand. The billiard room turned grey, the smell of it changed. He was in quite a lot of pain too, though nothing like earlier. It was very uncomfortable to be strapped to a chair like a human, when you have the body of a dog. He moved carefully – it was dangerous with his forelegs splayed wide and tied to the arm rests, as one of his ribs could puncture a lung if he jerked in the wrong direction.

The benefit, however, was that his hind legs had no feet – just nice flexible paws which he was able to pull free immediately. Easing his head to one side he began to gnaw at the rope on his right foreleg. For a moment he wondered if this would work. The ropes looked like your run-of-the-mill hemp cordage, but they had no visible end – one seamless length wrapped around his limb several times. But he needn't of worried; it frayed and broke under Padfoot's sharp teeth without too much difficulty, and the second one was simple now that he wasn't held in that stretched position.

With all four legs free, he was still bound around the middle to the back of the chair. He shifted about until he was on his haunches and scrabbled at the ropes with his back leg like a mutt with terrible fleas. He caught his belly with his sharp nails several times, but continued – it was harder than with his teeth but eventually they got the job done.

Padfoot jumped from the chair and looked around, favouring his right front paw. There was door Riddle had left through, no doubt guarded by more of the face-punching muscle men. He had played in this house a child. He was sure there was another way out of this room… there in the corner, the servant's entrance.

He changed back in to human form and reached for the door handle. Unlocked. He peered up and down the servant's passage. Not a Death Eater in sight. 'Sloppy,' he muttered, closing the door behind him before starting off along the narrow hallway and down the claustrophobic staircase at the end of the corridor. It opened into a wide kitchen, a little house-elf had its back to him, working busily at the stove – Death Eater ridden house or not, the smell of breakfast still made his stomach growl.

Morphing into Padfoot once more he crept across the room to the door that led to the vegetable garden. Though sneaking to the best of his quiet ability, the elf must have heard him because there was a clang of a dropped saucepan and a high-pitched squeak of fright.

'What is that doing in here?' the elf said, its already large eyes doubling in size as the hulking shaggy canine turned its head toward it. Sirius couldn't tell if the house-elf was male or female, its tea towel toga gave no indication. The little creature seemed to be rooted to the spot in shock at the sight of an animal big enough to swallow it in two bites.

Sirius took his advantage. Moving quickly to the door he appraised the handle; it was an old-fashioned brass lever, convenient for servants to open with their elbows when their hands were full of dinner vegetables – also helpful when one was lacking opposable thumbs – the latch clicked when he pushed down on the handle with his paw and the door swung open.

He glanced back at the still frozen elf. Would it want bother the Master of the House with a tiny little thing like an unusual bear-sized dog in the kitchen? He wasn't sure. Deciding it was better to get away before the frightened house-elf could make up its mind, Sirius shot through the open door and took off at full tilt across the garden, wincing but ignoring his injured paw. He jumped the low wall that separated it from the rest of the grounds and pounded as fast as he could toward the boundary. Without his wand he couldn't apparate home in time to stop them leaving, but he could at least be waiting near the gate when Hermione and Pollux arrived.

The hedge that acted as the boundary line was thick and dense, but thankfully the protective spells were designed to keep people out – not in. Down the lane was the slight thinning of the branches that the Order used to gain entrance; the enchantments were not as strong there, and he forced his way through. There was a huge charred stump a bit further along. That must be where Diggle saved Remus and Fabian, he thought.

He looked back up the lane toward the official entrance to Forte de Sang. There were two Death Eaters not far away, guarding the gate – one tall, broad-shouldered and paunchy, the other shorter and stocky.

Hermione would recognise him in his animagus form and know he was free – she was quick – if she saw him surely she would take Pollux away immediately. Then he would be able to run home, or to Remus'. His place was isolated, but much closer than London.

He would have to risk it. Sirius gave himself a vigorous shake to rid the broken twigs and leaves from his coat, and trotted toward the Death Eaters. He wagged his tail and let his tongue loll out. The bigger one nudged his friend and pointed at the massive black dog.

He knew he was a frightening-looking beast unless he was careful, and Death Eaters were not known for being animal lovers, so he lay down twenty feet from them, put his head on his paws and yipped. The big one looked over his shoulder towards the house and then patted his leg at Sirius.

Padfoot rose to his feet and padded toward him, tail wagging – it was surprisingly hard to make the bloody thing wag when you weren't happy, and he had to keep reminding himself to keep it up. The man – was his name Gibbon? – held out his fist when the dog reached him. Padfoot licked it and sat in front of him, tongue lolling out once more. Gibbon had eaten sausages for breakfast. The man might hate muggleborns but he certainly gave a good ear scratch, Sirius thought as he sat before him, his tail wag wagging by itself now, thank goodness.

The other man was watching anxiously, his eyes flicking between the dog and the house. 'You should shoo him away, if they see …' Sirius couldn't have that! He turned his head and butted at the other man's leg – probably more cat behaviour than dog, but the Death Eater seemed to appreciate it all the same, giving a reluctant laugh. 'Insecure for a big one isn't he?' the shorter man said.

His doggie charms were not needed for long, fortunately. After a while of enjoying sausage-fingers ear scratching he heard the pop of apparition, and his new Death Eater friends scrambled to look alert.

There they were, walking calmly toward the gate – Hermione and his grandfather. She was all done up in her Lady Fehr garb. He almost barked with laughter imagining her annoyance at having to fix her hair and wear heels for a rescue mission. By her expression, she was trying to appear haughty, but as soon as her eyes fell on the big black dog being petted by the guards she had to restrain a smile.

She stopped and whispered something to Pollux who looked toward them and back to Hermione, then nodded seriously. Hermione waited where she stood as Pollux came forward.

'Good Morning Gentlemen.' he said in his friendly, winning voice.

'Good Morning Mr. Black,' they said almost in unison.

'Terribly sorry, but the young lady is mortally afraid of dogs,' Pollux said apologetically. 'Would you mind if I restrain him as she passes? We are here on an important quest and I would hate for her to faint before she can deliver my grand-daughter her gift.'

'Get out of it,' Gibbon said to the black dog, flapping his arms.

Sirius turned and took a few steps toward Hermione, who – Sirius had to admire her ability to sound like a frightened, dithering, bint when she was anything but – put her hand to her heart and said in a fussy, panicked voice, 'Oh, Mr. Black, restrain him! He's coming right for me!'

Gibbon looked impatiently up the drive toward the house and said 'Very well, grab him then – you two need to get inside.'

Hermione came forward, a black velvet box in her hands, her eyes wide and fixed on Sirius. He could see amusement in her gaze as she tried to look frightened. She held the box out to Gibbon. 'This is what we came here to deliver. I give it to you now in a show of good faith.'

Gibbon looked highly confused but took the box from her. Immediately she turned on the spot, and Sirius had a momentary glimpse of her cloak flicking though the air before he was pulled into suffocating darkness as well

He had never apparated in his animagus form before, and the feeling was quite odd.

Before he could even gauge his surroundings a body slammed into him and Hermione's voice was laughing in his ear, 'Mangy mutt.' He transformed back into his human-self, and laughed with her sprawled across him, as they lay on the front path of Number Twelve, Grimmauld place.

There was the sound of a throat being cleared.

Sirius looked up at the sky to see Pollux standing over them, looking incredibly tall from Sirius horizontal position on the concrete. 'Er, Grandfather … so, there might be some things about myself I haven't shared with you …' He was giggling hysterically, light-headed at the feeling of freedom, and adrenalin still rushing through him. Not to mention that Pollux had the funniest look on his face Sirius thought he had ever seen.

'Might be?' Pollux sounded almost faint. 'Boy, you … when did you learn that? My word, and Miss Fehr … you know? … Obviously you do … silly thing to say … Sirius, an animagus … very useful'

Sirius pushed himself up from the paved path and pulled Hermione to her feet as well, 'Sorry Grandfather, I would have told you … but well, you see … I'm quite, er … impulsive and I keep expecting to do something wrong and annoy Mother … I couldn't help thinking a disguise might come in handy.'

Pollux burst into laughter, a hand pounding Sirius on the back, 'A wise move!' Then he stopped as he took in Sirius' wincing, bruised face and blood smeared shirt, 'You are hurt. What did they do to you my boy? Their own family, I never would have believed it.' He turned toward the steps, 'Come in side and we'll get you patched up.'

He made to open the door but Sirius said, 'I need to see James, Grandfather. Hermione can fix me. I need to thank him.'

'Surely he will come here?' Pollux looked confused. 'I can grant him access. He helped save you today. You are injured, you need to rest.'

'It's not just him Grandfather, but his wife, and my friend Remus too. I know you would not want them here, no matter their contribution to my safety.' Sirius said, never missing a chance to remind his grandfather that purebloods weren't the only brave people.

'Very well,' he sighed 'But at least come for dinner tonight, your mother will want to see you are alive. She was very worried.'

'Yes Grandfather.' Sirius said as a wave of vertigo washed over him. The giddy feeling of success was slipping away; his hand was aching again, and his legs felt like they were made of marshmallow.

'Thank you Mr. Black,' Hermione said earnestly. 'Don't worry, I'll look after him.'

Pollux smiled at her. 'Of course you will, my dear.'

He tapped the door with his wand, sent Sirius one more concerned look, and went inside.

Sirius was leaning heavily on Hermione by this point. The adrenalin that had kept him going was gone, leaving little black splotches in his vision. He blinked trying to clear them.

'Come on,' Hermione said, 'you're sure you're Ok to apparate?'

'Yup!' he said. There was a loud sizzling in his ears, reminding him unexpectedly of sausage-fingers Gibbon.

'Ok, Cop hold.' Her voice sounded far away.

He tightened his grip around her waist as best he could, and she pulled him with her into the blackness once more.

When he opened his eyes he was in the bedroom of Hermione's hotel, sprawled across the bed on top of the covers. He stretched experimentally. There was a dull pain in his limbs still but nothing worse than after a night spent out with Moony on the full moon.

His chest was healed, he realised. When he looked down he saw he was fully dressed in the clothes he was captured in; Hermione had even fixed the rip in his shirt and vanished the blood. That was good. He liked this shirt.

'Prongs.' he muttered – how long had it been? The little clock on the bedside table read 8.41. He breathed a sigh of relief; he'd only been out for half an hour at the most. He dug the mirror out of his jacket pocket, and briefly wondered why Hermione wasn't here by his sick bed.

'Hermione?' He called.

She appeared in the door way, 'Hello,' she said 'how do you feel?'

'Fine' he said sitting up. His head spun severely, maybe not fine then.

'Good.' she smiled, 'Now that you are awake to hear me, I'm going to tell you again. Do not tell me you are fine to apparate when you are about to faint. You are very lucky half of you wasn't left behind.' She fixed him with a stern look. 'For a fit bloke you weigh far more than is acceptable. I have a strong suspicion you are made of lead.'

He chuckled. Her tone was serious but he was just too happy to be away from that crazy lot and to know that she was safe again … for now. 'I promise.' He said nearly keeping the laughter out of his voice. 'Did you tell Prongs and Moony yet?'

'No, I was waiting for you to wake up. I'll go now if you want. You might feel better, but you probably shouldn't apparate just yet.'

Definitely not, he thought. Just the idea made him nauseous. 'I can't anyway – you'd have to side-along me,' he said. 'I've got no wand, had to leave it behind – I couldn't really go looking for it.'

'Oh shit!' Hermione said looking stricken, 'What will you do, will they give it back?'

'Er …' he looked at her, eyebrow raised, 'well you see … there's this place – called Ollivanders, they make wands. So I might just go and buy a new one.'

'Oh, right.' Hermione laughed.

Sirius smiled at her – she must be more stressed than she seemed, to forget a little thing like that. He would miss his old wand though. It was perfect. 'And I'll just get James on the mirror. So you don't need to go anywhere.'

'Oh, do you have it?' she asked, looking relieved.

'Yes,' he showed her.

'Good,' she said. 'I'm dying for a cuppa, do you want one?'

'Will you bring it to me?' He asked, reclining on the pillows. 'I'm hurt, remember – probably should be resting.' He grinned as she rolled her eyes and left the room. It wasn't completely wrong of him to be happy he'd been captured, was it? It was like before. Just like before.

'James Potter,' he said looking into the mirror.

James was there in an instant – 'PADFOOT!' He shouted 'Remus, Lily! He's there! he's ALIVE!

'Merlin, keep it down Prongs, I've a sore head.' He stopped abruptly when he saw there were tears on James' face. 'Er … Prongs, you right mate? It's alright – I got away, I'm fine – I'm at Hermione's. Being bought tea in bed, should get captured more often.'

'Pads …' His voice broke. 'We thought you were dead. You're really alright?'

'Um, yes. I'm absolutely fine, Hermione healed me up good as new. You thought I was dead? Why?'

'The mirror,' James said, starting to grin as he realised it was he really was Ok. Sirius could hear Remus calling him a 'daft mutt' from out of frame. 'You never closed the connection,' James said. 'We heard … we heard Voldemort.'

'You did?' Sirius cringed a little at the thought of them all hearing him scream. He hoped he hadn't sounded too wimpy.

Then suddenly James was laughing. 'Got to be honest mate, I didn't really blame him for killing you. You're a right mouthy wanker.' He chuckled. 'You can call me Sirius Mr. Riddle, I don't mind? Were you trying to get killed?'

Sirius grinned at him, 'Like you wouldn't do the same.'

'True,' James said, 'but then we heard the Death Eaters beating you up, and I think you'd passed out, because then it was quiet for ages, until we heard you mumbling, and then it cut out – totally blank! I'd never seen it do that before.'

'I was Padfoot – they'd left me alone, so when I woke up I transformed and chewed through the ropes and ran away. Met Hermione out the front and we disapparated. Left my wand though – that's a bit rubbish.'

'Brilliant!' James said, 'Not about your wand, that's rotten, but Padfoot to the rescue? Wicked.'

Hermione came back into the room then tea tray in hand, 'Sorry Prongs, but my nurse is back. I should leave you guys to get some rest – it must have been a shit night.'

'It certainly was.' James agreed.

'Oh wait,' he said hastily, realising they would need to tell Remus more details, and that he was too polite to just turn up uninvited, 'Hermione says she wants to talk to Moony about some book and could he please come over later? Honestly Prongs, they're so related. It's like a being in a sodding library round here at the moment.'

James laughed. 'No problem mate, he heard that. Come round home when you get a chance.'

'I will.' James' face vanished from the mirror.

'Your nurse?' Hermione asked surprised, climbing onto the bed to face him and folding her legs beneath her. She set the tea tray between them. 'Wizards don't have nurses, they have healers.'

'Man's allowed to dream isn't he?' he said with a wink.

'What is that supposed to mean?' she asked, there was no hint of annoyance, she was just her again.

'Oh you know … getting waited on hand and foot … tiny uniforms … sponge baths.'

Hermione's eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously, as she said shrewdly, 'I'm disturbed that even though you don't know how to turn a television on, you've obviously been watching some questionable programming.'

'I do know how to turn the telly on,' He insisted. 'Moony showed me. I just can't change the channel. And I was bored and awake the other night … it was an interesting insight into muggle hospitals, the nurses didn't seem do anything except shag … the doctors, the patients, each other. I think I would injure myself constantly just to get a bed.' He didn't mention that he was awake in the night because he was looking for her way home – in the hope of smashing it into a thousand sandy pieces – plus the fact that he couldn't sleep next to her anymore, it was too weird.

Hermione's mouth was hanging open. He kept his face straight as could, seeing if she would believe he was really that clueless. Then a pillow hit him in the recently fixed face. 'I'm regretting the effort I went to get you those now.' she said, pointing at four blue macaroons on the tea tray.

'Don't, I'm very grateful, and …' he hesitated. He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him to have someone always put his safety first, even after the last two weeks. She somehow managed to do it without making him feel coddled – a rare skill. 'I know I got out of there myself but it's … well, it was good of you.'

'Of course I came to get you. Do you really think I could cope on Hallowe'en alone?' Oh right he thought. 'And besides, you might annoy me no end with tea-in-bed demands, and late-night porn sessions in my sitting room, but I'm used to it now. I'd miss you.' She smiled at him.

He smiled back, not really sure what to say other than, "Then why are you leaving? Twenty nine days. Why can't you just stay? You have a time-turner, just stay for a bit longer." Deciding against unmanly begging, which was what had screwed everything up in the first place, he kept his mouth shut.

She seemed to be thinking something similar, though, because as she poured them tea and passed him a cup she asked, 'Do you still think we'll be friends when I get back? I keep wondering about it … if you'll … well, want to, seeing as how I would have been a kid for ages, if I'm even friends with Harry that is. Otherwise you won't know me at all.'

'But I will,' Sirius said, frowning. 'It's twenty years from now, I might be old, but I think I'll remember this little adventure of ours. Where will you arrive? I should come meet you there or something.' Was it to creepy of him to think that way? What kind of forty year-old man is friends with a girl who's twenty one? He took a gulp of tea to hide his uncertainty, before adding 'But only if you promise not to laugh at my old, wrinkly face.'

She did laugh. 'It wasn't that wrinkly when I saw you last, quite handsome in fact. And just think, without all that Azkaban time you'll be much younger looking.'

'Oh yes,' he drawled, 'I've heard dementors are dreadful for one's complexion.' He really wanted to move away from this disheartening topic.

Once again they seemed to be thinking alone the same lines. 'Let's not talk about this now,' she said. 'We've still got four weeks to get through first. It's making me depressed, what I'd be going back to … I just don't know. I'm trying to live in the moment.'

Then stay! 'Alright,' he said aloud, casting around for a nice neutral topic that didn't involve shameful pleading. 'So why did you give them the brooch?' Perfect. 'So they wouldn't come after me again?' He still wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to tell her the Death Eaters were after her fraudulent family connections. It would just add unnecessary pressure. And another reason to leave - quite counterproductive.

'Sort of. Remus and I had a bit of an epiphany while James was lying stunned on the sofa.'

'James was stunned?'

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, 'Yes, he was in quite a flap about his poor Paddy. He thought it was all my fault you were caught … which it sort of is, but not the point at the moment. I needed to talk to Remus and it was difficult with James pointing the finger of dire accusation.'

Sirius laughed, 'He's got a temper alright. He'll be pretty pissed you stunned him though. Wish I'd thought of that. So what did you two realise?'

'That Riddle was supposed to get the brooch. He only has five Horcruxes at the moment, but he wants six so that he will have a seven-part soul. In the original timeline Harry beats Riddle on Hallowe'en and he doesn't make the sixth until he gets his body back in 1994, and uses Nagini because she's there.'

'I'm not one for snakes usually – remind me of the family too much,' Sirius said, 'but that's got be classed as cruelty to animals, having your soul molested by that creepy psycho.'

'God, I reckon,' she said, looking upset for the people-eating serpent. 'But Dumbledore said that he was planning to make the last one with Harry's death – it seems Riddle is a bit of a romantic when it comes to murdering children and tearing his soul apart.'

'Quite,' Sirius said dryly, snatching the last blue biscuit from the tray.

'So, Harry's death would mean he was the victor of the prophecy, and I would think that the idea of it achieving it on All Hallows Eve would have appealed to him greatly as well – but Dumbledore never mentioned what object he was going to use.'

'Do you have to make the Horcrux on the spot?'

'Yes,' she said before continuing, 'When I was talking to Remus I just thought he got the brooch some other way, but when I spoke to your mother she said Bellatrix had asked her for it and she'd said no because she wanted it to stay in the direct line.'

'I wondered that.' Sirius said, as he picked little blue crumbs from now empty macaroon plate, 'I kept thinking "why didn't Bella just ask to borrow it".'

'Well she did, but your mother wanted to give it to your daughter – if you have one. But she wouldn't have had any hope for the direct line last time.'

'Right. So you gave it to them, to make sure Snakey's not delayed in his murderous arrival on the thirty first?'

Hermione nodded. 'Do you think your mother will be angry? I mean we'll probably be able to recover it from his body after Dumbledore kills him.'

'As long as we tell her it was a donation to the preservation of the name of Black she'll be quite happy to give it up,' he said, licking the last of the crumbs off the ends of his fingers.

'Good,' Hermione said. 'Are you feeling a bit better now? You seem better.'

'Yes. You know me – macaroons fix everything.'

'That's not true,' she said quietly. 'I've been feeding them to you for the past two weeks and …'

'We've been over this,' he said. 'I'm a twat, you're a strumpet.'

She half smiled, 'Sirius … I wanted you to know that I feel just the same as you about this. I don't want to go.'

His heart picked up 'You're ….'

'I'm not staying, but I would if I could find a way to make it work.'

'Okay,' he said, feeling ridiculous for the hope he had now. If he could find a way – she would stay. Deciding to push his luck because this was the first time they had talked about this when he hadn't been drunk or hungover, he asked 'And what would happen… if you could find a way?'

She smiled again, 'Well, I suppose… we could go on a second date?'

'Bollocks to that!' He laughed, 'I'm never going on a date with you again. That was the most horrendous night of my life. My boss poisoned me, I shouted at a normally very nice person and then spewed on her, and top of all that … I missed out on dessert. Never again.'

'Okay,' she said, a broad smile on her face. 'No dating. So are you going to go to Ollivanders today? Or do you want to see if the Death Eaters will give your wand back now that their jewellery needs are satisfied?'

'I think I'll ask Grandfather tonight if he can talk to Bella about getting it back, you know purebloods; this whole thing will be brushed under the carpet by Bella in the guise of politeness.' Sirius said, quite distracted by her promise. 'But I might get a new one in the meantime. But I'll wait til Remus comes over before going out. He can take me.' And help me come up with a plan. His mind was reeling with new ideas – false documents, alternate egos … he'd think of something. He hadn't heard back from Lady Fehr yet, but that was still a possibility.

'I'm happy to go if you want it sooner – I know you don't really need a wand here but I can understand if you feel a bit strange without one. I can protect you just as well as Remus.'

'No.' He said abruptly, realising that she shouldn't be out in public without protection. He would have to deal with the "a new reason for her leave" problem some other way. 'The thing is, Miss Fehr, they didn't just take me for the brooch. They might be a bit shirty with me for getting away, but I doubt they'll bother trying to capture plain old me again. Snakey said himself he's already got half my family, I'm no threat. He has his psychotic sights set on another family now,' he looked at her, hoping she wouldn't take it too badly. 'Voldemort wants you to convince your uncle Faustus to support him – he thinks he can start a following in Europe through the Fehr's. I told him you'd never do it. But you know Voldy. He doesn't like being told no. So you are to stay here unless absolutely necessary.'

'I thought it might be something like that,' Hermione said, not looking bothered.

'You did?' he said frowning – she should really be more worried about Voldemort trying to recruit her.

'Yeah well, it was a bit weird that they wanted me, when you are lovingly reunited with your family – why would you risk your mother or Pollux getting killed any more than your girlfriend? I figured with Bellatrix's work in France he'd seize the chance for another point of access to the continent.'

'So why did you come then?' he asked, frustrated. She had known she was walking into a death trap.

'Well I couldn't very well leave you there,' she said with a little laugh. 'I didn't know they had a doggie-door.'

A/N: Thanks to the gracious Emily for her re-arranging, redundant comma removing, tense correcting eye. A mammoth task I'm sure you'll agree. xx