30th October
Sirius was waiting patiently - well, as patiently as was possible for a generally very impatient man to wait. He looked at the clock balanced on the bookshelf; how could it still be eleven thirty? It had been practically eleven thirty last time he looked and that had to be at least fifteen minutes ago. This was why Sirius hated being organised. If he had been left to get ready for the night himself he would be running about in a mad flap trying to find everything he needed, and not left to stew in anxious boredom, but no – he had been Hermione'd.
Sirius's bag was packed and its contents list double checked, and he had eaten and brushed his teeth, though he was currently removing the minty freshness by having a cigarette in rebellion. Tonight was possibly the most important night of his life, and he was well aware of it, but that didn't stop him feeling a little henpecked. Hermione had even given him a pocket map – not a map to keep in his pocket, anyone could have that, but only Hermione would draw up a map of which pockets he had to put things in. Wand: inside chest pocket. Penknife: weird side-of-knee pocket on the muggle hiking trousers she made him wear. Rope and nails: other side-of-knee pocket. Deck of cards (in case they were too organised and had time to spare - highly probable considering the map situation): jacket pocket. An assortment of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes products packaged tight and shrunk, for what purpose he wasn't sure: other jacket pocket. Sirius felt like a pack mule, but he supposed it was better to be prepared, though what they would need nails for was beyond him, and he could only assume there was a hammer on someone else's list, but he wasn't going to ask. He had learnt not to question Hermione when she was in packing mode – her glare was beginning to rival Lily's. Sirius looked at the clock again. Really!? Only three minutes? Maybe it was broken, he thought.
Twelve days earlier, Sirius had returned to his flat in a panic following the discussion with James and Peter; his head had been in total disarray as he tried to figure out what he could have possibly done differently this time to make Peter brave. Sirius was so far gone along a string of theories on the tiniest actions and their repercussions that by the time Hermione let him inside, the first thing he said was, 'Fucking sausages!'
Hermione, obviously concerned for his mental health, had steered him to the sofa and given him a look that said quite clearly, 'Start explaining, you daft idiot.'
Sirius - who was trapped in his sudden realisation that he had changed the timeline by his ability to cook sausages for dinner rather than the sandwiches he and James surely would have eaten the first time around – said, 'Sausages made Peter brave, should've stuck with sandwiches.'
After many impatient questions about the evening and what on earth had led Sirius to think that bangers and reducto'd mash had anything to do with the situation in the first place, Hermione had managed to talk him back to sanity by pointing out that Peter had probably never intended to betray the Potters, but had presumably traded the information to keep himself safe. Personal safety was key, and the Fidelius charm would do that for him, so of course he would agree to it, and Sirius's culinary skills had nothing to do with it. Sirius knew she was right, but that didn't really solve the problem: though it made Sirius feel quite ill, he wanted Peter to betray James, they needed him to, and as Sirius had thought that Sunday evening, it wasn't right.
Fortunately, as it turned out, it was right - Peter's brief bout of bravery, that was. His determination to protect the Potters was well-meant, but had only been sparked by James's promise of protection - not by changing the timeline with sausages after all - so it hadn't lasted long. It had been foiled by Peter's lack of Charms skill and the impossible complexity of the Fidelius. When James had promised to hide Peter, none of the men had known that the charm had to be performed by the person who required protection. Lily had been trying without success to teach the spell to Peter for the last two weeks – until yesterday, when Pettigrew had not shown up for his afternoon lesson. It was worrisome news, in context, but Sirius couldn't feel anything but relieved. This must have been how it happened last time: James offered to protect Peter, Peter tried to learn the spell but couldn't, and ended up betraying his friends to save himself.
James had contacted Sirius on the two-way mirror to ask if he had heard from Peter, who hadn't given the Potters any reason for not attending his lesson. Sirius played the concerned friend and ventured from his flat in animagus disguise to check up on the rat. Mrs Pettigrew was on her way out the door when he arrived at the North Kesteven farmhouse Thursday evening; a few minutes later and he would have missed her. Her son was out, she'd said; a few friends of his had called by that morning and he had gone with them, and wasn't it sweet that he'd suggested she go stay at the neighbours rather than remaining home alone overnight. The description she gave of one of the men could only have been Antonin Dolohov.
Sirius felt a slight stab of regret that Peter had honestly been trying to stay loyal to his school friends; rather than seeking out Voldemort with the information to gain favour, as Hermione had originally suggested, the betrayal had been forced upon him. But the fact remained that if it had been Sirius as the Potter's secret keeper the first time around, and he had been caught, no amount of torture would have extracted the Godrics Hollow address from him. He would have been killed no doubt, but that didn't bother him, because the whole point was that a secret keeper was supposed to be prepared to die - die to keep Lily and James safe.
Sirius stirred himself from his contemplation of what could have been if he'd not suggested the bluff in the original timeline - something he hadn't even considered until this week. It was depressing and unhelpful, and for the next twenty-four hours he could do without depressing and unhelpful thoughts. Avoiding the clock and its ridiculously slow time, Sirius looked around the sitting room: the pile of junk that Hermione had left in the corner of the room in her initial tidying binge was still there; Sirius smiled, considering why they had not found time for cleaning over the last fortnight, even though they were confined to the house. As Lily had said, they had not been bored while hiding. Sirius knew that Hermione, like himself, was using the physical side of their relationship to forget, or at least to distract herself from, the much more uncertain emotional one.
They still had no solution - well, no definite solution - on her future. Remus had been working with Frederica on an identity for Hermione, and though Lady Fehr seemed keen to help, there was a road block in the form of Faustus and his son Falco. Neither was aware of Frederica's involvement with the destruction of Voldemort, and she wished to have a fully formulated and fool-proof scheme to present them; she didn't think she could persuade the family with a plan that she was not even sure would work at this stage. Sirius, though disinclined to admit it even to himself, was coming to terms with the idea that he may be saying goodbye to Hermione after all.
Because of this, he was trying to enjoy his time with her as much as possible. Twenty years was a very long time to be abstinent, and he really wasn't sure that he would be able to do it; was it really cheating if the girl you wanted hadn't met you yet? Or was it worse than cheating to be thinking of a girl who was only a toddler? But the point was, he would try. For Hermione it would only be a matter of minutes, so her feelings wouldn't have changed; Sirius worried that his might - not that he would stop missing her, or ever replace her, but that all the little irritating things about her (pocket map!) would fade with time and in his head he would have built her up to be some perfect woman - and he would find it hard to adjust. But for now, at least for the next day, he would tell himself that she was staying, that Lady Fehr would sort out her end and it would be all right.
It would be all right, he told himself, disregarding yet another setback, this one related to a problem Sirius had nearly forgotten about, the muggles who thought Hermione was a Russian spy. Moody had said he was working on it, so Sirius had let the worry slip away amongst all the others. Then, the Monday morning following James's search for a secret keeper, it was brought front and centre again.
Even though Moody already knew that Sirius would be leaving work, and why, Sirius hadn't expected the conversation to go smoothly - in fact they were supposed to cause a scene, to make sure that word got to Voldemort that Sirius had left his job. It wasn't really necessary because Voldemort knew Sirius wasn't the secret keeper – or he would soon enough anyway – but it was part of James's plan. Even for Hermione's plan, it was important that Riddle believed Sirius and the Potters thought they were one step ahead with their bluff, so that he would take his evil time and act on the historically significant day of Hallowe'en...
'Shut the door Black,' Moody growled when Sirius had entered his office that Monday morning.
'I will when I'm through it, old man,' Sirius said breezily. Even though he had an uncomfortable scene of departure from the Ministry to get through, Sirius was about to have a holiday, and he was quite looking forward to it.
'Cheeky today, are we?' the old Auror asked resignedly without looking up from the scrolls of parchment on his desk.
Sirius closed the door. 'You know why I'm here,' he said cheerfully, enjoying the idea that he was about to begin twelve days completely free of cane whacking, map plotting and other generally pointless bollocks. 'They did the charm last night; I have to look like I'm preparing to hide.'
Moody spared him a glance; he no longer wore the eye patch, and Sirius found himself almost missing it, because he'd much rather restrain laughter at the absurd pirate figure than have to deal with the queasy feeling the displayed hollow eye socket and its bizarrely loose lid gave him. 'So you think you can say whatever you want now, do you?' Moody said, returning his attention to the work before him.
'Well Moody,' Sirius said expansively, dropping into one of the chairs opposite his boss's desk, and grinning widely, 'I've got to give you something to tide you over till I come back after Hallowe'en; I know you'll miss me.'
'I see,' Moody grumbled, 'this is your way of making me even more grateful I don't have to look at your smarmy face for the next two weeks, is it?' He looked up and said seriously, 'How thoughtful of you.'
'You're very welcome old chap,' Sirius said courteously, matching the serious tone.
Moody grunted, 'Right, well, we'll put on our little show in a minute - but I wanted to talk to you about the girl first.' The amusement at their little back and forth left Sirius in a heartbeat; his nerves mounted as Moody looked at him, and with his very grumpy face Sirius couldn't tell if he was about to get good news or bad. Moody continued, 'I've hit a wall with the muggle business, I'm afraid. Unless you three have figured something out, she'd best leave as soon as possible after the thirty first. We'll all be in hot water if it gets out what we've done here. Do you have any other plans?'
Terrible news then, Sirius thought. 'No,' he said glumly, 'nothing.' For some reason Remus insisted they should keep the plotting with Frederica just between them. Frederica was yet to give a definitive answer, and at that point Sirius still thought it could go either way. He sort of had his hopes hanging on it, because if she said no their only alternate was Hermione just telling the Ministry what had happened during Voldemort's fall, in the hope that they would look the other way on all her criminal acts. -The end justifies the means, Hermione had said, and apparently her Dumbledore played that card with her Ministry more than once. Personally Sirius felt that this was a dreadful idea, because if it backfired there could be no plan B.
Moody stared at him for a moment, then asked, 'And you're not going to disappear with her so she can't leave?'
'No,' Sirius confirmed. He'd established early on that any plan that involved Hermione disappearing from British policy-making wasn't going to suit her at all.
Moody gave a curt nod and said, in an odd tone that Sirius suddenly realised was some form of grouchy compassion, 'You'll be alright Black - plenty more in the sea and all that.'
Sirius looked at him, slightly shocked. 'Er … thanks, um …'
Moody cut him off with a growl. 'For Merlin's sake boy don't make this more bloody awkward than it already is.' He gave an uncomfortable twitch and said, 'Now I'll see you at Godric's Hollow after the fact. We'll need to get all the loose ends sorted before anyone else arrives, so I want a patronus from you as soon as you arrive there.'
'Okay,' Sirius said. They had already been over this last week, but Sirius didn't really feel like whinging at Moody for his constant reiteration of the timetable right now. Frederica would come though, he told himself, and Hermione could just stay hidden while he found a solution to the secret agent problem. Staying hidden from the muggles was probably comparatively easy.
'Now, are you ready?' Moody asked, stacking the scrolls on his desk into a pile and vanishing them with a sweep of his wand.
'Yeah, been ready for months, haven't we?' Sirius mumbled, disliking the reminder that he had always known she would be leaving. 'That's kind of the point.'
'No,' Moody said, standing from his chair and picking up his cane, 'I meant, are you ready for our little show?'
Sirius couldn't help the little twinge of fear in his belly at the look of enthusiasm on Moody's battered face; it did not bode well. 'You keep calling it a show – does that mean you're only going to pretend to hit me with that?' Sirius asked hopefully with a nod at the walking stick in the old Auror's hand.
'Now Black,' Moody said with his unnatural smile, 'we must make it realistic, can't have Voldemort thinking we're onto him.' He tapped the stick experimentally against the desk top in preparation.
Sirius sighed and rose to his feet, 'What do you want me to do?' he asked, resigned to impending proddery.
'Go out there,' Moody said, indicating the open office area with the walking stick, 'and get your stuff from your desk, and while you do that I'm going to have some fun – just remember I only mean half of it.'
Sirius couldn't quite bear to relive the events that had followed; extremely inventive insults echoed around the bullpen, the tops of all the Aurors' heads darting up and down behind the cubicle dividing walls as they tried to get a better view of Sirius being shamed, while staying out of the one eyed glare of Moody. But Moody was far too busy poking at Sirius with his cane while the younger Auror emptied his desk and made his way to the lifts, to notice the rubber neckers. Sirius thought that even if Moody only meant half the words that were hurled at him, it was still very insulting. For instance, to be called a custard-brained cowardly pillock was quite bad enough, but to then have it followed by the suggestion that he was a self-serving nonce who couldn't win a duel against a blind amputee Kneazle was quite detrimental to even Sirius's substantial ego.
Sirius looked at the clock again: twenty minutes to go. He heard Hermione cursing in the bathroom - probably trying to tame her hair, Sirius grinned to himself. He tapped his hands restlessly on his knees as he waited, his thoughts falling on the rest of his first day off work, which had improved remarkably after this highly public embarrassment.
From the Ministry, Sirius had headed directly to Grimmauld Place to explain to his grandfather why he would not be in contact until after Hallowe'en. Ever since he had signed Pollux's anti-deception contract – which would surely take away everything he owned – his grandfather had gone back to treating him as normal, in the belief that there was no way Sirius would have agreed to such terms if he was lying. It disappointed Sirius a little that Pollux would assume material possessions and gold would mean so much to him, or the cause so little, but it was to his advantage for now so he would use it.
Sirius entered the library to find his grandfather poring over his ledgers - it was Monday morning after all, and he would be off to the bank soon.
'Sirius,' Pollux said, looking up from his work, his brow creased in concern, 'what are you doing here in the middle of the day?'
'I've temporarily resigned my job,' Sirius said, taking the seat in front of the desk. 'It's part of our plan.'
Pollux's eyebrows went up. 'This is the plan that will culminate in two weeks?'
Sirius nodded, 'Yes Grandfather, I won't be able to visit again until afterward, so I wanted to let you know in person. Is Mother around? I'll have to tell her too.'
'No,' Pollux said, 'she is visiting with Narcissa. I can pass the message along for you if you like; shall I say you have gone on a holiday with Hermione? Or would you rather I leave it vague for now?'
Sirius was surprised that Pollux would be so willing to lie for him. 'Er … vague I think, but don't mention that it's only for two weeks, just that I'll be in touch when I can.'
'Very well,' Pollux said with a nod. 'Are you joining me at Gringotts today?' he asked, closing his ledger and putting his quill back in the inkwell.
Sirius shook his head, 'No sorry, I have to stay out of public view until we finish the mission.'
Pollux frowned at him, and asked, 'Are you in danger?'
'Yes,' Sirius shrugged, 'but no more than usual – we're all in danger at the moment.'
'That is true enough,' Pollux sighed. 'Where is Hermione, is she safe?'
'Yes, she's at my flat - Grandfather, I needed to ask you, the contract –'
'Will be void once I see proof of your story,' Pollux said firmly cutting him off.
'Yes, I know,' Sirius said hastily, 'but that's later. The thing is, Hermione and I need to stay safely hidden – there is a high chance Voldemort is going to be looking for me, and the contract is one of the few places my flat's address is listed. I just wanted to make sure you are the only one with a copy.'
'Yes, I am,' Pollux confirmed, looking worried. 'Why is the Dark Lord looking for you now?'
'It's part of the plan Grandfather; I can't tell you any more than that,' Sirius said.
Pollux rose from his chair, and eased his stiff limbs, as he gave Sirius a slightly challenging look, 'Chess then, my boy? If I'm not going to see you for two weeks I'd like to send you away with one final loss to your name.'
Sirius rolled his eyes as he moved to the chess board, and the black pieces began to complain. 'I'm looking forward to being able to tell you the whole story, Grandfather, you'll love it – full of Slytherin-like deception. You'll be proud.'
'Ah,' Pollux said, 'but we only enjoy the deception of others for our own gain.'
'I feel like I have said this before, but isn't the death of Voldemort to your own gain? To everyone's?' Sirius jabbed his wand at the little onyx soldiers to silence them; he'd had quite enough of being insulted for one day.
'One could argue that without strict leadership the Dark Lord's followers may become even more dangerous,' Pollux said as he sat in the leather chair closest to the marble pieces and reached out to the decanter on its silver tray where it was perched on the edge of his desk. Then he looked at the grandfather clock next to the door, sighed and put the whiskey back down on the tray. Sirius chuckled and Pollux glanced at him. 'Sometimes I feel as though elevenses will never arrive,' he said ruefully, then returning to their previous topic he asked, 'Do you have a contingency plan in place to find and imprison the Death Eaters?'
'I have been working on one with Alastor Moody,' Sirius said; he had been doing no such thing of course, but he could hardly say, "Hermione has a list of the places they were captured after Voldemort's fall the first time, because she's from the future, so don't worry Granddad."
Pollux surveyed the board in front of him for a moment, his white pieces preening before his gaze in the hope they would be given the honour of first attack; he prodded a pawn forward and asked, 'How is he to work for, Alastor Moody? I heard from Reginald Gamp that he has suffered yet another injury – his eye this time.'
'Yes,' Sirius said, distractedly, as he too focused on creating a battle plan; the black pieces didn't stand tall and proud like his grandfather's, but tried to look as insignificant as possible in the hope they would not be the first sacrifice. Sirius sent a pawn out into no-man's land before looking up at his grandfather. 'I was there when it happened - disaster of a mission, but Moody was standing there calm as you please, giving orders with a foot long splinter right through his face; there was eyeball juice everywhere – bloody disgusting.' Sirius shuddered.
Pollux wrinkled his nose in distaste. 'Thank you for that image, but I could have lived without it,' he said as he sent his now free and evil bishop out onto the battlefield. 'Mr Moody is a strong figure within the Ministry; do you think his position will change once you have killed the Dark Lord?'
'What do you mean?' Sirius asked as his silenced, lone pawn looked up at him from the board and then back at the bishop who had stopped only three diagonal squares away, his sinister sights set on the edgy pawn. Sirius took pity on the soldier and shifted him forward a place, into safety.
'Well, there are several high-ranking officials who are supportive of the Dark Lord; I assume they will be unemployed come November,' Pollux said as he considered his next move. 'Do you know if Mr Moody has designs on a more influential post?'
'More influential than head of the Aurors?' Sirius asked, 'That's as high as he can go without joining the Minister's office or the Wizengamot.'
Pollux shook his head. 'The head of Law Enforcement out ranks him –'
'Pfft,' Sirius flipped his hand at his grandfather, 'technically maybe – but in reality not at all. In fact the only person that tells Moody what to do – well, the only one he listens to – is Bagnold.'
'That's interesting,' Pollux said slowly, as one of his mounted knights leapt over the pawn in front of him to join the bishop in the sedentary attack. 'Did you know that she is considering retirement?'
'Is that what this is about?' Sirius said with a laugh, sending his own knight onto the field. 'Have you got a pool going with your card buddies?'
'Card buddies?' Pollux said with disdain. 'We are a gentleman's club.'
'Who play cards,' Sirius said, watching as another of Pollux's pawns shifted forward.
'Well, yes,' Pollux admitted, 'but we do not "have a pool going", we are above such things. We were just discussing the politics of it the other day. Bartemius Crouch seems to be the most likely contender, but Gamp thought that Alastor Moody might be the stronger option – if he were to put his name forward.'
'Moody never would,' Sirius said firmly, knowing it was the truth, 'he likes to make his own decisions – something that wouldn't be an option if he held the post of Minister – and while Moody might be a good choice for the times we are living in this week, remember that in a fortnight we'll need an administrator more than anything else.'
'A good point my boy,' Pollux agreed. 'So then, with your inside knowledge, who would you put your gold on for the next Minister of Magic?'
'No pool indeed,' Sirius chuckled.
'It's more of a gentleman's arrangement,' Pollux said in a refined voice.
'Knew it!' Sirius laughed, suddenly realising why Hermione dropped little hints about the future. It really was just too tempting - he knew who the next Minister was, and couldn't help himself. 'To be honest Grandfather, I'd say that Bagnold will stay on at least another year; but there is a chap, Law Enforcement junior at the moment, Cornelius Fudge, he's quite ambitious. I'd say he might see you through to a happy outcome.'
'Fudge?' Pollux asked. 'Never heard of him … ambitious you say?'
'Very.' Sirius said smugly, returning his attention to the chess board, where things were going surprisingly well. Pollux had been advancing his marble army but hadn't taken any of the black pieces yet. It felt good to be playing better than usual.
'Fudge is not an old family name,' Pollux mused, deflating Sirius's hopes for the game, as one of the foul-mouthed rooks stomped down the board to take Sirius's knight, leaving Sirius's own rook exposed to the conniving bishop. 'He is mixed?'
'I wouldn't know, you old bigot,' Sirius grinned, hastily moving his castle out of harm's way. 'Such things do not matter to my broadminded intellect.'
'Insults my boy?' Pollux said sounding amused rather than annoyed, 'How dare you.'
Sirius chuckled, 'It's not an insult if it's true Granddad, don't know how many times I have to tell you.'
Pollux was quiet for a moment planning his next move; a pawn shifted forward and he said, 'So then, where will your broadminded intellect take you once you return to work?'
'To work I suppose,' Sirius shrugged, sending his last knight on the field in what he hoped was a casual way - one more move and he could take the vicious white bishop. 'We'll be busy rounding up the Death Eaters for a while.'
'I realise that, but I meant further down the track - do you plan to stay an Auror?' Pollux looked at him, seeming concerned. 'The force will no doubt be cut down significantly when there are no Death Eaters or Dark Lord to fight.' He nudged his queen with his wand, and she took several graceful steps on to the battle ground.
Sirius directed his knight at the bishop and Pollux tutted under his breath. 'Are you worried about the shame it will bring the House of Black if I'm made redundant?' Sirius asked with a smile as his brave knight clobbered the bishop to the ground and the knight's steed promptly trampled the remains.
'Not at all,' Pollux said. 'You must be one of their best – why would you be one to lose out?'
'I'm not one of the best,' Sirius sniggered, 'I'm a pain in the arse. I hadn't ever really thought about doing anything else though… perhaps I'll go into magical creature rights like Hermione.'
Pollux glared at him across the board. 'Boy, please stop trying to give me a heart attack. I'm serious – you need to think ahead. If you're a going to run this house you'll need a respectable position, I could talk to –'
'Absolutely not, Grandfather,' Sirius said abruptly. 'If I'm doing anything it will be on my own merit, not because you hit someone about the face with your Order of Merlin.'
'Sirius,' Pollux protested in frustration, 'why must you be so –'
'Much like you?' Sirius interjected innocently.
'Well yes,' Pollux huffed, 'it is very irritating.'
'Grandfather, if I'm to run this house you know there will be changes – I could never support half the things you do,' Sirius said honestly, nudging his bishop on to take one of the white pawns, 'And anyway, I thought you said it's a full-time job to be the head of the family?'
'It is for an old chap like me,' Pollux said, as his queen dismembered the onyx bishop in retribution for her pawn. 'There's only so much time in the day, people to visit, lunches to attend...'
'Whisky to be drunk.' Sirius grinned.
Pollux nodded and said with a slight chortle, 'You see? A very busy life. But you are young and spritely, and don't have nearly the whiskey tolerance I do. It would be good for the family image to have our public face serving the community.'
'Well in that case, perhaps I should involve myself in charitable work,' Sirius said as sincerely as possible, holding in a laugh at the look on Pollux's face.
Pollux's lip had curled, and his eyes were almost wary. 'Now I wouldn't go that far; there is not a lot of gold to be had in charitable work.'
Sirius snorted, 'Yeah, because we're so short on gold.'
His grandfather went back to concentrating on the chess board, and after a few more moves – which left Sirius with several fewer pieces and regret for being cheeky – he asked, 'What about head of the Auror department? Is that what you would aim for if you were to stay an Auror?'
'I don't think so,' Sirius said slowly. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted; he'd never thought of himself as a leader, more like an obnoxious and self-reliant follower. 'I'm not really cut out for a job like that. James would though, once he returns to work. He's always wanted to lead the teams, so I could see him taking on the department.'
Pollux nodded thoughtfully. 'Yes, his father was Head Auror many years ago, took the position just before Grindelwald was captured. He did a remarkable job assisting the Aurors on the continent with that debacle.' He paused for a moment, looking at the game before them, and added as an afterthought, 'Although my sister complained of never seeing him, so perhaps it would be too time-consuming anyway, what with family business to take care of.' He looked back at the board and said almost to himself, 'It's a shame my nephew didn't make a more respectable marriage.'
'Careful Granddad,' Sirius said warningly, 'You know I'm godfather to their son.'
'Yes,' Pollux sighed, 'and Dorea did love that girl, but then my sister seemed to have the same defects you do, so it's not the highest recommendation of character.'
'Defects,' Sirius grumbled, but his annoyance lifted as he finally saw a way to get to Pollux's queen.
'Hers weren't as bad thank goodness,' Pollux continued. 'My father would have died if she had been sorted into Gryffindor.'
Sirius shook his head at the fact that his grandfather obviously still wasn't over that little mishap. 'But I thought Cygnus was totally insane - didn't he put you in charge right after you got married… at fourteen?'
'He was a little mad,' Pollux said with a chuckle. 'Black blood and fashionable opium use in his youth in Marseille were not a good mix apparently. Thankfully Mother distracted him from such extravagance and he returned to marry her and take over as head, until he could pass it off, at least. My mother did hold her brother in-law Sirius in high regard – he was the eldest son of the House after all - but he shared the same love of the poppy, and he was not interested in coming back to England.'
'Really?' Sirius asked incredulously, he couldn't believe that the heir to The Noble House of Black would be involved in such rubbish.
'Oh yes, why do you think Arcturus is such a bizarre fellow? Hesper and Sirius spent the early years of their marriage in France indulging in the orient's newest offering, and Arcturus was born during that period,' Pollux said candidly, enjoying the rehash of the little scandal. 'That's why I ended up in charge of the family; Arcturus might not have picked up his father's habits, but he is unfocused and prefers the trappings of the lifestyle rather than the actual work involved in being Head. I'm much better suited to it in any case, but it still irks Melania something terrible that she thought their marriage would be enough to bring him back from France to claim his title, but the man would prefer to eat pastry in the sun than do his duty, so we are all better off with me in charge.'
'Why have you never told me this before, Grandfather?'
'Well, it's hardly something we are proud of, and it wasn't appropriate for you to know of such things before you … left us.' Sirius was surprised when his grandfather smiled as he said this, but then realised it was because Pollux had just thwarted his scheme to have his rook pound the white queen to dust with its crenulations. 'To be frank my boy, I was worried you would go the same way, though I suppose opium is hardly in style anymore. The youth of today must have some new drug of choice, I suppose?'
'I'm sure I wouldn't know Grandfather,' Sirius said, as he had a brief flashing image of himself and his three friends passing a fat roll-up between them and giggling uncontrollably as James made his head disappear with his invisibility cloak over and over again.
'Very good,' Pollux nodded, 'and I suppose you still have time to decide on your career; as you say the Aurors will be very busy once Hallowe'en has passed.'
'We will be; I'm looking forward to it,' Sirius said, noticing that his King had somehow become very nearly hemmed in, and moving his remaining bishop in to protect him. 'Just the slight hurdle of destroying an evil bastards soul in the way first though.'
'Hmm,' Pollux murmured, taking in the inconvenient onyx bishop, 'I actually wanted to ask you - this business with Horcruxes, you are destroying them with Fiendfyre?'
'Yes,' Sirius confirmed, happy that he seemed to have foiled Pollux's attack, 'Hermione knows how to cast it, and my friend Remus and I have learnt containment so we're going to help her.'
'I wondered,' Pollux said as his queen swept across the board. 'Hermione and I spoke of Fiendfyre the very first time we met. She asked me if I would be interested in helping her - did she find someone else, then? Then he smiled and added, 'Check.'
How did he win every time? Sirius grumbled to himself, moving his king out of the queen's path. 'Yes, Dumbledore tested her skill, and they were satisfied; she didn't want to involve you if it wasn't necessary.'
'I suppose that was wise,' his grandfather said, prodding his rook forward, 'I may not like the man, but one cannot deny his talent. Checkmate.'
Sirius grimaced. One day he would beat his grandfather, but it was obviously not today. 'Yes,' he said with a glance at his watch – it was nearly lunchtime, 'thank you for a sound reminder of your skills Grandfather, but I really should be going.'
'Anytime Sirius,' Pollux said with a chuckle. 'It's my job to put you in your place.'
Sirius sighed. 'Just you wait - I'm going to be stuck in my flat for two weeks, and I plan to use the time to practice.' Not chess, he thought, but Pollux wasn't to know that. 'I'm sure you'll hear pretty quickly after Hallowe'en if our mission is successful, but I'll come and see you as soon as I can afterward.'
Pollux rose from his chair and clapped a hand to Sirius's shoulder. 'I hope it is my boy, I hope it is - but that doesn't mean you'll be able to beat me.' He paused for a moment and added, 'Be careful, won't you? Your mother will have a fit if you go and die before she has had a chance to organise your wedding.'
Sirius snorted. 'Yes Granddad – though to be honest, that is not the best incentive for caution I've ever heard.'
Pollux's eyes glinted slightly in amusement and he said, 'I wasn't aware there was any incentive for caution – takes all the fun out of life, wouldn't you agree?'
He did agree, Sirius thought as he sat on the sofa in his flat; caution was boring, but unfortunately sometimes necessary. He looked at the clock on the bookshelf - ten minutes to midnight.
'Are you ready?'
Sirius started at the sudden sound of Hermione's voice; she was grinning nervously at him from the hallway as she zipped up her jacket. She looked very prepared – not surprising really, it was Hermione after all. Her hair was back in a tightly tucked-in braid, her clothes were dark and functional, and she had swapped her usual shoulder bag for a rucksack. Sirius had one, too, sitting beside him on the couch; when they'd laid out the piles for packing that morning, he'd been happy to learn that Hermione had allocated him food-carrying duty, while she was carrying the Horcruxes, a tent, a change of clothes for both of them, and – he'd been amused and not at all surprised to find – several reference books.
'I am,' he said, his voice a little hoarse – from lack of use, obviously, not nerves. They were only off to save the world, so no pressure. Sirius grinned at her, 'Are you?'
She nodded, 'Only for the last three years! Come on, we might as well go; Remus will probably be early and I wouldn't want to wait in that creepy place all by myself.'
A/N: Pesky R/L is slowing me down a bit at the moment, but I'm still aiming to have another chapter up before Christmas, hopefully two.
Thank you to my hard working elf (north pole variety, not house enslaved) Emily - the lovely and brilliant word witch that she is.
And to all you readers with your review love - there really isn't an emoticon to give an accurate representation of my smile (even the googly eyed tongue one doesn't cut it!) xx
