3rd October

Sirius's heart was racing as he got up from the table. Pollux stood too, looking between Sirius and Hermione's indistinct shapes and withdrawing his wand, though he – like Walburga – was frozen, unsure of the best course of action. Suddenly there was a loud CRACK and Kreacher appeared between Walburga and Pollux where they were now standing side by side. 'Young Lestrange is here, with his wife and children Master,' the elf said to Pollux, 'They seek refuge, Lestrange is hurt.'

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. Young Lestrange, but why would he come here? He had some nerve. And what would he need refuge from? Surely he had cemented his place as loyal Death Eater with the poisoning and subsequent capture of Sirius.

Pollux looked at him. 'Shall I send them away?'

'Sirius,' Hermione said urgently from beside him, 'they must have run – his wife and children, you said they were locked up.'

Sirius looked down at the blurry form of Hermione, and pulled out his new wand to lift the disillusionment charm she had cast on him. 'You're right,' he said to her, 'but I don't see how that's our problem.' He turned away and hurried from the room, intent on telling Rab to piss off, because the last thing Sirius needed was to give an angry Bellatrix another reason to come visiting at the House of Black. As he walked swiftly towards the front door, wand in hand, he registered his mother and grandfather following at his heels. Sirius pulled open the door roughly. 'You have a bloody cheek coming here Lestrange.' he said viciously.

'Sirius, please,' Rabastan begged, his voice worn, 'they are after us, I did what you said,'

As the light from the hall fell over the people on the stoop Sirius's cutting reply died in his throat. Rabastan's face was swollen, with a black bruise shadowing from his jaw down the side of his neck. A dark red split ran through his puffy bottom lip, and he was holding himself at an awkward angle.

Sirius's eyes moved over the other four people crowded onto the doorstep. Rabastan's wife Loretta who Sirius had only met once, all dressed up and perfectly turned out at the Gala, looked distinctly the worse for wear, with her light brown hair coming down from its tidy arrangement. Her face was pale apart from blotchy red patches across her cheeks and the tip of her nose, and black smudges below her bloodshot eyes. Three children clung to her - two young girls and a little boy – also showing signs of recent tears on their faces.

'I got your wand,' Rabastan said, moving a stiff arm under his travelling cloak. Sirius stared at them, at a total loss of what to do; he raised his new wand a little higher as Rabastan fumbled beneath his cloak. This man had poisoned him twenty-four hours ago and Sirius was out of his mind to be considering letting them come in – but the people next to him were the reason Rabastan had done as Bella had asked, and he was injured. 'Here,' Rabastan said, holding out Sirius's real wand with a pained grimace on his face as he extended his arm.

'Sirius, let them in,' Hermione said softly from beside him. Sirius looked at her - she had removed the disillusionment charm - he dithered; since when was he a soft touch for a bashed-in Death Eater?

'My boy, I think you should,' Pollux said in his reassuring voice.

'Right,' Sirius said, coming to a decision. He held out his hand - left hand, as the pale new wand in his right was still covering the run-away family. 'Wands, both of you. Then you can come in.'

Loretta obeyed at once, almost flinging her wand at Sirius and dragging the children into the house. From the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Hermione move toward her, but he stayed fixed, staring fiercely at Rabastan.

'Are you going to hurt them Sirius?' the injured man asked as Sirius accepted his real wand from Rabastan's still outstretched hand. 'I brought them here to be protected; you can't ask me to give up my only weapon.'

'Yes I can,' Sirius growled at him, 'They can stay. You can leave if you'd rather, but I'm not having you at my back with a wand in your hand, you…'

With a sudden movement that caused him to grunt in pain, Rabastan held out his wand. 'Here, then.'

Sirius took it, closing his fingers tightly around the three wands he now held in his left fist, and stepping back to let Rabastan into the entranceway. He closed the door, and with a flick of his wand the locks began to clink and grind and fell decisively into place. Without warning, Rabastan made a strange noise somewhere between a sigh and high pitched keen, before he collapsed in a heap on the floor with a dull thud.

'Merlin!' exclaimed Pollux, 'what?'

Sirius was already crouching beside Rab, fingers at his bruised neck - there was fluttering beneath the skin. He looked down at the man, unsure where to start, then Pollux was beside him pushing aside the thick travelling cloak. There was no blood; Sirius reached forward and lifted Rab's eyelid -only white showed.

Pollux was undoing the buttons of the exiled Death Eater's shirt. 'I'm out of my depth here, Sirius,' his grandfather said as he took in the unusual set of Rab's shoulder. 'Get Walburga, she knows more than me.' As he finally succeeded in moving the fabric of the prone man's shirt and cloak aside, he gasped - a massive dark mottled bruise was visible across his abdomen, red at the edges, almost black in the middle. It stretched from below the waistband of his trousers to the underside of his ribs. 'Mungo's,' Pollux croaked, 'Walburga won't be able to fix this.'

Sirius was already on his feet. 'Where are they?' he asked, looking around; he hadn't even noticed that the others had left the entryway.

'The drawing room' Pollux said, and Sirius took off, running like he hadn't done in this house since he was a child, his feet pounding on the stairs. 'Hermione?' He called, as he reached the landing - maybe she would be able to help. 'Mother,' he said throwing himself into the room, 'Floo St Mungo's, Rab's really hurt. Hermione, come and help.'

'He's hurt?' Loretta's voice was high and uneven; she was sitting on the wide couch, her girls cuddled on either side of her and her son on her knee. 'He said it was just a few bruises.' She made to stand up.

'Loretta,' Hermione said, from where she was standing next to Walburga at the end of the couch, 'I think it's best if you keep the children calm, they've had a hard enough time this evening. They will panic without you.' Loretta looked like she was going to interrupt, but Hermione cut her off, 'I will go and look at him while Mrs Black gets hold of St Mungo's. Then she can bring you down to wait with him until the healer gets here. I'm sure they won't take long, one only just left a little while ago.'

Loretta nodded mutely, clutching her children to her.

Once on the landing Hermione turned to him. 'I think you should floo Mungo's, Sirius. I would very much like Mrs Black's help if it's as bad as you say. I'm not a healer.'

He nodded, that did make more sense. They thundered back down the stairs - even his mother was quick on her feet, though it was odd to see her moving at anything but a sedate dignified pace.

Hermione and Walburga stooped at Rabastan's side the moment they had reached the entranceway. Pollux looked quite lost as the two women discussed what to do in low mutters, wands waving. Sirius barrelled past, down the stairs to the kitchen to use the fire.

He crossed the long room at a run, seized a handful of floo powder from the dish on the mantle over the large fire and bent to his knees. Sirius threw the sparkling grey powder into the already crackling flames, 'St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Emergency Department,' he recited in one breath before thrusting his head into the now green flames.

There was nothing but uncomfortable spinning for a moment before it stopped. He was looking out at a sterile, pale-walled room; a witch in lime green robes was holding a clipboard and sitting in a low chair that put her on speaking level with the fire place. 'I need a healer,' Sirius said at once.

'For yourself or someone else?' she asked. Her tone was brisk, the sound of someone who had asked that question many times before.

'Someone else,' Sirius said in a hurry. 'He has … he has a big bruise,' he added somewhat lamely, realising at he said it that "a big bruise" didn't really sum up the injury very well at all.

The healer looked up from her clipboard, a small frown on her face, 'is it on his head?'

'No, his stomach, it's,' … merlin what was it called … 'it's internal bleeding,' he said as the phrase came back to him.

The healer stood up quickly, scribbling on the clipboard, 'How old is the patient?'

'I don't know, nearly thirty maybe, at the most, he's passed out – you have to get someone quick!'

'Bring him through the connection,' she said, quill still dashing across the clipboard, before she tore the piece of parchment free and flicked her wand at it – sending the slip flying out of Sirius's limited view. 'We will have a bed ready.'

'No, he's … he's been attacked by Death Eaters. He is hiding, with his family, they could get him here. He's at the House of Black.' He wished the woman would hurry up and understand.

'I would think the Death Eaters could get him there too,' the healer said, unimpressed with Sirius's snappish tone.

'No,' he said, trying to sound more polite, but failing, 'I'm Sirius Black – I'm an Auror and he's my friend. Please can someone come? Healer Bethnal was just here earlier, he'll tell you it's safe.'

The healer gave him a look, as though deciding whether or not he was telling the truth; she obviously came to a favourable conclusion because she said, 'I will find Healer Bethnal. Come through and sign these house-call forms while I get him.'

Sirius clambered quickly out of the fire into the cubical style reception; there were a row of fireplaces along the wall with other healers talking to heads in the flames, taking notes or passing vials of potion through to them.

Sirius scribbled with the quill attached to the clipboard, putting all his anxiety into each signature, his normally legible handwriting becoming more and more like chicken scratching as the time passed. There were little red crossed bone and wand emblems indicating were he had to sign; by the time he reached what he was sure was the twentieth mark, the first healer had returned with the sinister-potions-pushing Healer Bethnal.

'Another injury Black?' he said as he approached; he was bald, pate shining in the bright lights of the emergency call centre, but he made up for the lack of upper hair with a massive bushy white beard that fluffed out wider than his ears and long enough to rest on his chest. It was his comical appearance that had tricked Sirius into succumbing to the vile liquids bald Bethnal had tipped down his throat in the first place; surely a man who looked so humorous couldn't wish him any harm. How wrong he had been.

'Not me,' Sirius said shaking his head, 'my friend.' He didn't want to say Rab's name in case it made the healer hesitant to come. Everyone knew the name of Lestrange.

'Okay,' Bethnal said, 'lead the way.'

Sirius thrust the forms back at the female healer, 'Thanks,' he said before diving back through the still-open floo connection.

He held out a hand to help the healer up when he arrived behind Sirius in the kitchen, then he was walking swiftly up the staircase to the entryway, Bethnal in tow.

Rabastan was still sprawled on the floor, Hermione crouched at his side; she looked relieved when Sirius entered, Bethnal only a step behind, despite the fact that the healer's eyes went wide at the disfigurement. 'It's not magical,' she said. 'Mrs Black and I have fixed his face and broken shoulder – those were caused by magic - but this,' she gestured to the crimson edged black shape, 'it's from impact.'

'Kicking, we think,' said Pollux from where he was leaning against the banister, wand still in his hand as though afraid his granddaughter would burst through the front door at any moment.

The Healer nodded and set to work; Hermione stood and backed away, coming to stand beside Sirius in the doorway to the kitchen stairs. 'Are you alright?' she asked. Her voice was concerned, but she wasn't looking at Sirius – her eyes were fixed on the healer's stooped form, his loose green robes hiding Rab's injured torso from view.

'Of course,' Sirius said, unable to look away from pair on the floor.

'I know he's your friend,' Hermione said gently.

'He poisoned me!' Sirius muttered.

'Yes, but his family was in danger – this proves it. He woke up while you were gone, he was in a lot of pain, and he said the Death Eaters think he helped you get away. They have no idea how you managed it. Rabastan got caught by Bellatrix when he was getting your wand. God knows how he got out of there. They think he's a traitor now.'

Sirius shook his head as he looked at Rab; he still had the wary expression on his face, even while passed out. Hermione slipped her hand into his, curling her fingers around – it was a gesture of understanding that was so familiar to him now, more proof that that any ill feeling between them had been chased away by bigger and more threatening things. 'Do you think we should ask Dumbledore to hide them?' she asked softly, 'I mean, they can hardly stay here, Bellatrix will be round for tea next week.'

Sirius grunted, still not shifting his gaze from his injured idiot of a friend, an odd daze drifting over him as he watched, like it was merely a dream, or a muggle television program, 'Which you're not going to by the way. I've had enough of this shit.' He tightened his grip on her hand, 'One more bloody month – thank Merlin – and after that I'm asking Moony if he wants to move to Hawaii.'

'I'm jealous,' Hermione said, her voice vague, like she too was affected by the sense of unreality. 'Hawaii sounds brilliant.'

'I'd say come along, but if I'm going with Moony there won't be room on those little islands for both of your book collections.' Sirius teased, their conversation still not rising above a whisper as bushy bearded Bethnal poked and prodded at Rab with his wand. Hermione snorted lightly. 'I'd never ask either of you to choose between me and your books,' He added, quietly 'else I'd be living there all alone.'

'I'm sure we could pool our resources.' Hermione said in that same far away tone.

Sirius smiled slightly to himself. 'I think that might be the most flattering thing you have ever said to me.'

Their odd conversation was halted when the healer stood up. He looked from Pollux to Sirius, unsure who to address. Sirius pulled himself from the weird dreamy tropical-island fog that had descended on him and Hermione, and took a step forward, asking 'Will he …?' He tapered off; he didn't really want to finish the sentence.

'He will be fine very soon. I must go back to the hospital and collect some potions,' Merlin, they were trying to heal him, not put him in more discomfort. 'Can you move him to a bed while I'm gone please? There is a specialized potion I need, really the only one that can heal such damaged internal organs – both his liver and stomach are ruptured. He would not have lived for two more hours if you hadn't contacted St Mungo's.'

These words wiped the dreamy state completely from Sirius's brain 'Then what are you waiting for?' he said impatiently. 'We'll move him – go. His wife and children are upstairs for Merlin's sake.'

Healer Bethnal nodded and hurried past Sirius down the stairs to the kitchen. Despite his sharp tone, Sirius could feel the tight knot in his stomach loosening already. Rab was going to be okay. Sirius drew his wand - his wand that Rab had risked his life to bring back to him. Surely it was right to forgive the man when he had tried so hard to earn it. 'Mobilicorpus.' Sirius levitated Rab's prone figure toward the staircase. 'Where shall I put him mother?' Sirius asked Walburga who had just arrived at the foot of the stairs; she must have been in the drawing room with Letty and the kids, Sirius realised.

'In your old room would be best I think; there is enough space there for the healer to move around.' She said stepping off the staircase so Sirius could pass her. Sirius nodded and moved Rab's body up the stairs carefully. 'I must have known something,' he heard his mother say to Hermione as the two women followed him, 'I had Kreacher clean it just last week,' she raised her voice slightly, 'although he had some trouble with your decorations, Sirius. I believe he was unable to get them down.'

Sirius smirked to himself; he knew the ones she meant. In a fit of teenage rebellion – though he wasn't sure if it could be described as a fit when it was more often than not the constant standard of behaviour – he had plastered his walls with every offensive image he could find; offensive not by most people's standards but specifically to his mother - muggle motorbikes, Gryffindor banners and girls in bikinis were right up there with full frontal nudity and puppies with their heads cut off.

Hermione skirted around in front of him to open the door when they reached the tiny topmost landing, and Sirius was presented with a sight he had not seen in six years. The shambles of clothing and personal effects on the floor and the mess he'd left the bed in were gone, and it was not as dusty was he expected it to be having been uninhabited for so long, but the room still felt the same. It wasn't a pleasant place for Sirius to be.

A strange feeling of resentment rose inside him as he directed Rabastan to the wide four poster bed. He had felt like a prisoner in this room, even more so than he had when he'd been an actual prisoner in the bedroom at Forte de Sang.

The feeling increased when he turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, as she had done so often to hurl insults at him during the holidays of his time at Hogwarts. He was sure no one had ever hated the holidays like he had. He only ever returned to Grimmauld Place for the summers; Pollux had convinced his mother to let him spend Easter and Christmas at the castle.

He'd had many solitary holidays in his first years of school; though James had always invited him to the Potters' place, Orion had forbidden Sirius from leaving the school. In the two years before he left the house for good, Remus had often stayed at school with him, claiming Madam Pomfrey was much better at treating his full moon injuries than Remus's father, and at both Christmas and Easter in third year the moon had fallen during the break. At the time it hadn't seemed strange to Sirius that spending the holiday sitting by his sick mate's bedside was more fun than being at home – but he supposed it wasn't usual for most families.

He was snapped out of his reminiscences by Healer Bethnal's voice calling from below; Walburga left the room to fetch him.

'Are you okay?' Hermione asked, 'you look a bit peaky, has it finally caught up with you?'

'Has what caught up with me?' Sirius asked, confused.

Hermione looked at her watch, 'Well, you must have been awake for forty hours by now, and I don't think fainting counts as sleep.'

'I think you might be right,' he admitted, as a wave of exhaustion crashed over him suddenly. 'We have to sort out Loretta and the children, but then we'll go home. I'm no use to Rab, he'll be safe locked in here for a day or two, but the rest of his family should be somewhere safer while he recovers.'

'Pollux said he was going to contact Dumbledore for help,' Hermione said.

Sirius looked at her incredulously. 'How?'

'I don't know, he just said he would.'

'Well it's too late for that now, we need to get them away from here tonight; Bella and Rodolphus might come looking for them here.'

'Pollux also said he was strengthening the wards,' Hermione added, 'something about removing them from a list.'

Sirius smiled. 'Never thought I'd see the day.' Not only had his sojourn at Fort de Sang repaired his friendship with Hermione, but the turn of events had clearly shifted his grandfather's allegiance, if he was talking to Dumbledore and banning family from the house. Sirius was shocked to find that beneath the general loathing he felt for the Death Eaters and everything they stood for, there was a tiny amount of gratefulness. But that was probably just his sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on him.

'Where is he? I need to see him!' Loretta's voice carried from the drawing room as Sirius and Hermione descended the stairs, having left Bethnal doling out the tincture that was the only known remedy for severe internal injuries. Sirius was quite envious that Rab was still unconscious, as the nearly black liquid had a definite aura of taste-bud molestation about it; Sirius wished he had been granted such a courtesy before having to choke down the mad man's brews.

'Loretta, please calm yourself, the children are frightened,' Sirius heard Pollux say, in a reassuring tone.

Sirius pushed open the door to the drawing room. If he'd thought Loretta looked dishevelled before, he was mistaken; her hair was mostly loose now, though a few resilient pins had held up against what had obviously been a trying time for them as the young woman had pulled at her hair in anxious worry over her husband, and her normally refined expression was fraught and panicked.

'You can go and see him now,' Sirius said to the distressed wife. 'The healer is with him, says he'll be right in a jiffy. He needs to rest for twenty four hours but he'll be back to his old self in no time.' Loretta hadn't heard anything more than "you can see him now" before she was pushing past Sirius; he called after her 'Keep going up til you reach the last landing – he's in the room on your right.'

'I did try to tell her,' Pollux said.

'Father is going to be okay?' one of the girls on the couch asked, looking at Pollux.

He nodded. 'Yes my dear, he will be fine.'

'Auntie Bella is so mean!' the girl said looking at her sister.

'I told you she was crazy,' the other girl, who looked to be the older of the two said, her eyes wide as she looked at Pollux, adding 'sorry Mr Black. But we heard her, she told the men to hurt Father,' she turned her innocent expression on Sirius, 'because he helped him.'

'It's quite all right Kathryn, I know Bellatrix is not a nice person,' Pollux said kindly. 'Your father did the right thing taking you away from there, you're safe now.'

'Grandfather, Hermione said you were going to contact Dumbledore?' Sirius asked still unsure how this would be possible.

'Yes, and I have.' Pollux said with a brief dip of his head.

'Er … how?'

'My old friend Tiberius, we were governors of St Mungos together; he is friendly with Dumbledore, and he passed on the message.'

'Can you trust him?' Sirius asked sharply.

'Yes my boy,' Pollux said patiently 'Mr Ogden is well respected, he's on the Wizengamot now. Dumbledore will be here soon.'

Sirius could not think of a reply to this. He grinned at the name - a real Mr Ogden, how funny. But the idea of Dumbledore at Grimmauld Place was very odd indeed. 'Does Mother know? She might curse him the minute he steps out of the fire.'

Pollux chuckled, 'That is a good point.'

CRACK

The noise as Kreacher appeared in the drawing room made Sirius jump. 'Master,' the elf said urgently, 'the mudblood lover Dumbledore is in the kitchen fire – I tried to send him away but he would not go, I don't know how he managed to get in, but he is angry now.'

Pollux was taken aback, 'Angry? I asked him here Kreacher, bring him up.'

'Yes Master.' Kreacher said, his bloodshot eyes shifty.

When Dumbledore entered the drawing room five minutes later Sirius thought it was probably one of the stranger moments in his life. The man epitomised everything light, and here he was in the blackest of black House of Black. His purple robes and long white hair were as normal – his twinkling eyes uncertain but calm all the same. However, the Professor sported a large egg on his forehead that was certainly not usually there.

'Professor,' Sirius said, 'thank you for coming - we didn't know what to do.'

'My pleasure Sirius,' Dumbledore said with a tiny bow, his eyes moving to Pollux. He extended his hand and took another step toward the patriarch 'Mr Black, I am glad Tiberius was able to reach me. It was wise of you to inform me.'

Pollux was standing tall, shoulders square as he took Dumbledore's hand and shook it. 'Yes, our family connections may be useful to some, but they are a problem this evening.' There was a calculating glint in Sirius's grandfather's eye as he spoke. Did he know more than he was supposed to? Sirius caught Hermione's eye and she nodded slightly. Interesting.

'Indeed,' Dumbledore said gravely. 'These are the children?' he asked surveying the three on the couch, all looking at the bright and flamboyantly violet figure of Dumbledore with something akin to fear. Sirius smiled as he saw Rabastan's trademark wary frown on his eldest daughter's face.

'Yes,' Pollux confirmed, 'their mother Loretta is upstairs. Rabastan can stay here while he heals – we can keep that room secure – but I thought it best to get the others somewhere safe tonight. The Death Eaters have already taken my grandson, and they are suspicious of Rabastan's role in Sirius's escape – I do not wish them to have any more reason to attack our home.'

Dumbledore nodded, 'Sirius's friend Mr Lupin and a few others are setting up a house for them as we speak; I can take the Lestranges there in an hour – they will be safe.

'Very good. Thank you. I will go and tell Loretta,' Pollux said, before sweeping from the room.

'Sirius, I was very impressed to learn of your escape,' Dumbledore said quietly now that they were nearly alone 'how ever did you manage it? Remus was very tight lipped on the subject.'

Sirius grinned and shrugged, 'you know me Dumbledore, I'm a clever pup.'

Dumbledore chuckled 'Apparently so. I swear you boys have more secrets in your little group than Hogwarts herself possesses – the cloak for example – I can't believe you managed to keep that to yourselves for so long! It's quite magnificent.'

'And dead useful.' Sirius agreed with a nod, 'we would have starved many an evening without it.'

Dumbledore smiled appreciatively. 'Yes, the priorities of a teenage stomach can be quite demanding if I remember correctly.'

'Er … Professor what happened to your head?' Sirius asked looking at the lump that had been slowly becoming more and more red since the headmaster's arrival. 'It looks sore.'

'Hmm…' Dumbledore said raising a hand to feel the bump, 'yes, it is a bit painful. It seems the house elf was not informed of my arrival, and he was quite adamant that one of my dubious character should not be allowed to enter such an ancient and noble residence.'

'Kreacher did that?' Sirius asked, not quite sure if he'd get a scolding for the laughter he was restraining.

'Yes,' Dumbledore said, with a contemplative nod 'let me see … how best to explain … perhaps, "Sconed me with the frying pan" would be the best descriptor.' Sirius decided he would take the scolding and laughed, as Dumbledore added ruefully, still feeling the egg, 'he's got quite a swing for a little chap.'

A/N: Thank you as ever for all the comments/faves/follows you rule! (haha 90's slang is fun)

Thanks to Emily for all her hard work - Bloody amazing.