A/N: Well, another chapter here - big one, as usual. Can't seem to help it... Sorry for the delay again. I've just moved last week, been unpacking ever since and still half my stuff is in boxes... it's a curse. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.
"We've got to tell her something," Sirius heard his wife saying as he exited their bedroom's loo fully dressed after that morning's shower.
He found her standing at the window, looking out at the grey day outside with a distant expression on her face. She'd barely slept and he couldn't say he'd done much better himself… something told him that was just the beginning of a series of many sleepless night ahead of them. Sighing, he walked over to Mia, wrapping one arm around her waist and leaning down to kiss the side of her face from behind. "She can wait – we still haven't gotten word from McGonagall. Not that I think it will change much." He was convinced it would take a whole new level of bad news to make him question his decision.
Mia let out an impatient breath before turning around. "Don't say that. We owe it Izzy to at least listen and try to make sure keeping her home is the only acceptable option we have. How would you feel if you were the one being housebound against your will?"
He didn't respond immediately. He'd tried very hard not to put himself in Izzy's shoes since it made him feel like an arse. "Pretty crappy," he eventually admitted. "But that's not the point."
"Isn't it? I feel bad either way – keeping her home or letting her go…" She looked down, crossing her arms. "She was supposed to be the safe one. I knew Harry had to go and face the danger himself but Izzy… she was supposed to be the one we didn't need to worry about. She was supposed to be okay."
She sounded utterly lost and just as much tired, he noted before pulling her closer and holding her firmly in a comforting fashion. Closing her eyes, Mia allowed herself not to think for a few seconds, just taking in his warmth, his smell, the sound of his breath against her ear. It was enough to calm her, even if for just a little while. It was only when a knock sounded on the door that their little moment was interrupted
Sirius to loosened his hold on her and place a small kiss on her cheek before he headed to the door, intending to open it.
He fully expected to find Izzy on the other side, already begging to be let off the hook from the punishment they'd given her – babysitting her younger siblings on her own for a full day.
He supposed they could have come up with a worse punishment, but the fact that he'd admitted, even if just to himself, to having at least partially fuelled his daughter's storming-out stunt led him not to contest Mia's idea for the penance. In any case, he supposed the little ones, as adorable as they might look at first, could prove themselves a nightmare to look after, especially if Alex turned out to be in one of his hyper days which, lately, had been more of a rule than an exception. He really couldn't wait for that whole energy overload that came with the first signs of magic to be over – the kid was proving himself too good an opponent, especially when he decided to run around like a maniac in his surprisingly agile little legs.
However, upon opening the door, he found himself not facing his daughter. Not even close, he added in his mind – it was Kreacher.
"Owls bring mail for Masters," the house elf declared in a deadpan tone.
"Hum, thanks," he mumbled without thinking as he accepted the folded newspaper and the small pile of letters Kreacher handed over. "How's Izzy handling her… task?" he asked casually. The house-elf, despite his mysterious constant disappearing acts of late, seemed to have stuck around that day, likely sceptical of Izzy's ability to handle both her younger siblings at the same time.
Kreacher seemed slightly uncomfortable where he stood, eyeing him with positively confused eyes. One of his eyes was actually twitching. "Young mistress not scared of changing diapers," he simply mumbled, not quite sure of how to react.
"Good for her," Sirius replied. "Keep an eye on them, will you?"
It was only after closing the door that it occurred to him he'd actually been… nice to the house-elf during their short conversation. No insults, no rudeness… a bizarre occasion in their relationship, which, these days, mostly consisted of filling the role for each other's opponents for the sake of habit. I must be losing my touch, he thought. No wonder Kreacher had seemed completely weirded out over there.
"Anything from McGonagall?" Mia asked from the bed, on which she'd taken a seat.
He walked over and sat by her side before taking the time to look through the mail. Only two letters aside from the newspaper. Both of them from Hogwarts. "I don't think so," he finally replied.
"What's taking her so long?" Mia asked impatiently.
Sirius shrugged. "Maybe she'd busy," he absently replied as he opened the newspaper, quickly scanning through the first pages' headlines. Only a handful of Muggle-born registry-related news, appointments of news officials to the ministry and a notice of new curfew-times in wizard-run areas – nothing that indicated news concerning Harry, he concluded, folding back the newspaper and turning his attention to the letters. One was addressed to Mia, the other to him.
"Here," he said, handing the first to his wife and starting to rip his own open. "Ten galleons this is my sacking notice," he said dryly.
Mia didn't reply, her eyes on his letter while hers lay forgotten on her lap. She knew better than to take losing bets.
Not wasting time with ceremony, Sirius unfolded the piece of parchment he'd removed from the envelope. "Well, let's see," he mumbled before starting to read out loud. "Dear Mr. Black… a boatload of blah, blah, blah I'll just go ahead and skip ahead of… Recent changes to the school structures… blah, blah, blah… ah, here we are," he announced, clearing his throat like he was about to read the most exciting thing in the world. "Your position was found no longer relevant, therefore your services won't be needed anymore. We'll owl your possessions over at a later time. Yours sincerely, Severus Snape." He had to roll his eyes at that. "Why, how disgustingly polite of him to write such a pleasant letter when a 'you're fired, now stick it' type of note would have sufficed." And, honestly, he would've preferred it – damn slimy bastard had to know that disgustingly polite tone would annoy him beyond reason. He shook his head, though, ordering himself not to give Snape the satisfaction of reacting exactly the way he'd intended him to. "Funny thing, though – why is it that they always 'extinguish my position' instead of just plain and straight firing me? Seems a bit unfair on those who actually want to learn how to fly…"
Mia shrugged. "You'd have to ask them. It's just an excuse, really," she mumbled.
"Right," he mumbled, carelessly throwing his letter onto the bed and looking at Mia. "So, what's their excuse for you?"
"Oh," she mumbled in return, realizing she was still holding her unopened letter. "It's probably not very different from yours," she said as she started to rip the envelope open and removing the message, proceeding to red it afterwards. The first couple of paragraphs, which appeared to be a standard introduction likely directed to the Hogwarts staff in general, were, as Sirius had described them 'a boatload of blah, blah, blah'. However, when the letter became specifically directed to her, she found herself caught by surprise. "He's got to be kidding me," she said under her breath.
"What is it?" Sirius said, getting up from his seat.
"I… I'm not fired," she said in disbelief. "Not yet, at least, as long as I comply to accepting the regular teacher living arrangements in the school and completely change the syllabus for my class. Can you believe this? Apparently, I have to put more emphasis on moments in history when Muggles, I quote, 'showed their true wicked nature by acting hostile and even murderously towards witchcraft in any of its forms'. Are they kidding me? They want me to help them spreading their dirt? Snape's knows me better than this. Why would he want me around, anyway? He knows perfectly well I'm in the Order. He knows where my allegiances lie."
"He's taunting us," her husband easily guessed. Taunting me, he added in his mind. "I'm not sure why… I'm not even sure how he thinks this would ever work as taunting material because there's no way you'd ever take this deal but it's the only explanation – he's mocking the hell out of us."
Mia didn't respond. Suddenly, the tone of that letter made her think of something else – was that how it was going to be like from then one? Were they going to change every subject at Hogwarts to mirror their side's beliefs? And, if they did, was that part of some twisted plan to turn their children against them? Twist their minds into hating everything muggle-related or even slightly against the new system? The thought alone was sickening and more doable than she'd ever want to admit…
"What the hell is that?" her husband suddenly asked in a surprised tone, taking the letter she'd absently folded back from her hands and showing her the back. There was something written there – something she had a feeling didn't actually belong there.
"The handwriting is different," she observed. Almost mechanical, like it had been written by one of those automatic note-taking quills, she noted before starting to read.
Received your patronus yesterday. The Hogwarts situation concerns me as well but it's far too complicated for us to discuss without it being in person.
Please meet me today at 4.30 in the afternoon at the address below. Specifically say you came to meet me and they will take you to me.
The post-scriptum note proceeded to list an address somewhere in Edinburgh, not adding any more directions than those. There wasn't a signature but it wasn't needed, in any case. She already knew the message was from McGonagall.
How, she wondered, had a message from their old transfiguration teacher gotten on the back of a letter from Severus Snape? How has she missed it just minutes before when she'd been holding the letter?
"Look, it's on the back of mine too," Sirius said, showing her the letter he'd previously discarded, which appeared to contain an identical look on the back. Word by word.
"This is odd," Mia mumbled. It just seemed strange picturing McGonagall writing two exactly identical messages for them and somehow attaching them to Snape's. Passing one along seemed hard enough, so why try for two when they were bond to read both?
"Odd indeed… pretty curious way to pass a message along," Sirius observed, his eyebrows raised. "I'll give her credit for the creativity, though."
Mia nodded in agreement. "She must've somehow known only we could read this," she quickly concluded. "I mean," she added, turning the piece of parchment around, "she somehow managed to smuggle two messages into Snape's letters. Clearly this isn't something she managed out of the spur of the moment."
"Smart lady, that McGonagall," Sirius mumbled before letting out a long breath. "So I guess that settles it. We'll hear what she has to say. Then we'll tell our decision to Izzy, whatever it turns out to be – she'll be busy handling the kids in the meanwhile, I hope."
Mia sighed and rested her head on Sirius's shoulder. "Is it silly to hope McGonagall has good news? Even though we know the odds of that are very slim?"
His hands gently stroke her loose hair. "It's never silly to hope for the best. The problem is that it gets us hurt sometimes."
"Yes," she said, a sense of reassignment in her voice. "It does." She stood up, Sirius quickly following her up. "Well, I'm going to take a shower… see if it clears my head a little. Maybe you should go downstairs in the meanwhile. Check on Izzy's doing with Alex and Mary," she suggested.
He nodded. "Yes. I suppose seeing her crumbling under the pressure of babysitting two kids under the age of three might cheer me up in a slightly sadistic sort of way," he declared, making Mia give him a look. "What? She mocks me too when I'm the one in a pickle with them."
She shook her head. "Keep in mind you're not supposed to rejoice at your children's misery," she reminded him as she retreated to the loo.
"Hum, hum," he mumbled dismissively, already making his way out of the room and down the stairs, expecting to find some sort of panic-riddled situation when he came into the living room.
Bizarre images ranging from Izzy pulling her own hair in despair to young Alex jumping on the sofa while pointing some sort of pitchfork-like instrument at his older sister's neck crossed his mind. Of course, he was perfectly aware that the ever-watchful Kreacher would never let the situation escalade to that level, but the image itself did provide Sirius with some comical relief. He sure needed some of it.
Yet, upon actually stepping into the living room, Sirius did find himself faced with a bizarre image. Just not the kind he expected. His first born, the one he'd fully expected to find begging to be spared of her penance, appeared to be calmly lounging on the sofa, reading the latest edition of the Quibbler as her deceivingly angelic younger brother busied himself by doodling all over a large piece of parchment on the coffee table and little Mary sat on a blanket on a floor, mercilessly torturing a poor stuffed animal Sirius couldn't really identify by waving it around by an ear.
He looked at Kreacher, who sat on a corner polishing a chandelier, just to make sure he wasn't intervening in any way to create that scene. The considerable pile of polished items by his side seemed to indicate he'd been overly busy to spare Izzy a hand at all.
Whose kids are those? he had to wonder for a moment. Annoyed, he cleared his throat, earning little more than a look from his first-born, who seemed to be set on giving him a cold shoulder until she got an answer concerning her schooling situation for the next few months. "Wasn't this…" he asked, gesturing to the general area his children were occupying "… supposed to be some sort of punishment?"
"For all intents and purposes, it is," Izzy replied, closing the magazine in front of her and laying it on her lap. "It's not my fault that Alex decided not to act like little barbarian you expected him to be today." Although, she had to admit, bribery might have something to do with that fact.
Sirius gave her a suspicious glare, later shifting it to his son, who looked so focused in his drawing (little more than a bunch of lines and curves thrown together) one might think he was drafting the portrait to the next Hogwarts headmaster. "Little scamp, aren't you?" he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head in disapproval at the oblivious little boy. Just when one wanted him to be the little devil he regularly channelled, the kid had to act like the most obedient of children. "And you," he mumbled again, eyeing the infant on the floor with narrowed eyes, receiving from the little girl only an adorably indignant look followed by a big smile. "Couldn't even throw a little tantrum for Daddy? I see, so this is the face of betrayal coming from your own flesh and blood," he dramatically declared.
As much as she was still angry at her father for his position in her schooling debacle, she couldn't keep her lips from stubbornly curling, faced with his overplayed annoyance. "Maybe the universe just knows I'm right, therefore this punishment was never meant to be," she suggested.
The look on his face changed and she could see said annoyance was no longer being overplayed. "We both know this isn't about being right or wrong in this Hogwarts matter, Izzy. It's about your little London adventure yesterday that stripped me from at least ten years of life."
She looked down, frustrated. He had a point there and it only annoyed her that she'd brought it upon herself. "I've already said I was sorry about that," she apologetically told him.
He sighed. "I get that you needed to bolt even if it was monumentally stupid but if what you really wanted was to vent to Ginny, you could have said so. Your Mum and I would try and figure something out. You didn't need to go running to the twins to try and get them to take you to her."
She raised her eyebrows. So that was what her father thought she'd been intending to do by going to the shop? she questioned herself where he'd gotten that idea from before concluding he really had no reason to figure that her going to the shop was more about a certain other Weasley than about Ginny… Of one thing she was sure – she wasn't going to be the one to go ahead and correct his assumption. "Yeah, well, you might keep in mind that you were not very high in my list of go-to people yesterday afternoon," she replied in a dry manner. "You were very low, actually. Lower ten low."
He frowned. "Nice to hear. So… where exactly am I on that list at the moment?"
She shrugged. "Slightly above the Malfoys… fairly below Kreacher," she said, adding the last part just for the sake of annoying him.
Sirius gave her an appalled look and then turned to the house-elf in question, who showed some sort of smug look before disappearing with a 'pop', dragging the pile of newly-polished items with him. "That's an awful thing to say."
Izzy raised her eyebrows. "Is it?" she asked just as little Alex, done with his drawing, approached to hand it to her.
"Done!" the little boy said, quite proud of himself.
Izzy smiled at her little brother, ruffling his dark hair before accepting the doodle-covered piece of parchment. "Nice job. This one's for Grandma Lulu, right?"
Alex nodded, full of certainty.
"Alright, go on," she said, putting the drawing down on a little table at her back and fetching more parchment to hand to the little boy. "Do one for Auntie Elizabeth now, okay?"
"'Kay," the little boy agreed. "Then cookies?"
She didn't miss the odd look her father gave her, like he was saying something along the lines of 'caught you red-handed', before ruffling her brother's hair again. "After you've drawn for everyone." 'Everyone', she added in her mind, being every single person she could possibly think of to keep the keep the kid occupied with his drawing, ranging from their parents to Filch, if necessary.
Alex seemed satisfied enough with that promise and made his way back to the coffee table, by which he kneeled, immediately picking up a handful of crayons to start his new draw.
"Bribery, hum?"
"You never said it wasn't allowed," Izzy replied, shrugging and opening the magazine again, just for the sake of sending the message that, if her father didn't have anything Hogwarts-related to tell her, she wasn't interested in more small talk.
Sirius groaned internally at that. Stubborn as a mule – for a moment, he had to wonder what it would be like to have a perfectly obedient daughter who simple smiled and nodded when he told her to stay put at home, safe and away from Death Eaters. He found himself wrinkling his nose at that. Something just wasn't right about that image. He couldn't really tell what since, in theory, a kid like that would be a whole lot easier to handle. He shook his head and told himself to forget it – there were worse fates than ending up with pig-headed kids, especially when one was pig-headed himself.
He sighed and glanced down at little Mary, who looked up at him from the floor in amazement, like he was the tallest person she'd ever laid eyes on, squealing just before he picked her up and settled her on his lap when he sat down on the arm of the sofa at Izzy's feet. At least that one, as well as her now artistic brother, he'd get to keep under his wing for a little longer. Teenage and independence was still a long way down the road for those two. Part of him wished that was also the case for their sister… as if it wasn't bad enough his godson was out there, being hunted down like an animal.
His eyes shifted to Izzy and remained firmly on her. Although he could tell she knew she was being observed, no acknowledgement was offered beyond her flipping a page of the magazine. He hated that part of their disagreement more than anything – the distance – and yet he couldn't fully blame her for enforcing it. Sighing, he decided to thrown her a figurative bone."
"So, we just got a message from McGonagall," he ended up saying.
That seemed to catch Izzy's attention as she immediately dropped the magazine and looked at her father expectantly. "And…" she said, urging him to continue, hoping, just hoping the final decision had been made and that it didn't involve barring her from going back to school.
"And she's asking your Mum and I to meet her this afternoon," he informed her, using one of his legs to rock a squirming Mary on his lap.
"And then you'll make your final decision, won't you?"
Sirius nodded before biting his lower lip, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. Ultimately, it needed to be said, he thought, so he just went ahead and let it out. "I'll be completely honest here, Izzy. I can't think of a reason why anything McGonagall has to say will convince me that sending you to Hogwarts next year completely unprotected could be a good idea."
"It's not about being a good or a bad idea, Dad," she said. "It's about being the right one."
"I'm not convinced that's the case either, Izzybel," he admitted, putting Mary back on her blanket as she seemed to be getting far too cranky on his lap by then.
She huffed. "You would if you were the one being told you just had to be happy with having to stand back from the fight and wait for someone else to do all the work while the people you love the most pay the price by becoming outlaws. If you were the one in my shoes, we wouldn't even be having this conversation – you'd be packing your bag and making a run for Hogwarts instead."
He really, really hated that she might just be right. That sounded just like classic teenage Sirius. It didn't, however, sound like classic teenage Izzy. "I probably would. But you wouldn't."
She narrowed her eyes, annoyed at the certainty with which her father had said so. "What makes you so sure of that?" she asked, more for the sake of bluffing than anything else.
"The fact that you're twice the kid I was," he easily told her. "Plus, also the fact that you have someone who'd even ask you not to throw yourself into this fight while I didn't."
That statement alone stunned her, making her frown after a few seconds. "That's not true. What about Mum? What about Harry's grandparents? They were as good as your parents after you ran away from home."
Sirius huffed. "Well, your Mum wouldn't have asked me to stay for the simple fact that she'd have… no, she was right there fighting by my side for as long as she could. As for the Potters… they were different, Izzy."
She gave him an accusing look. "You mean they were enlightened enough to get that fighting or not fighting should be their kids' choice and not theirs?" she asked in a slightly accusatory manner.
"No, I mean they were aurors," her father corrected her, keeping his voice just low enough so he wouldn't startle Mary and Alex, even though he sure did feel frustrated enough to yell. "They were big-time aurors, Izzy – Judy Potter was probably one of the first female ones in the department. And they knew for a very long time that James wanted to follow their footsteps, so, from about the time he was… I don't know… eight or nine they started preparing themselves for the possibility that eventually they'd have to let their kid risk his life on a daily basis. So, when our time came, I won't say it was easy for them to let us go but they were ready. And it sure helped that we were of age by then."
Even though the first part of that speech actually made sense in her mind, the last one just annoyed her. "Fine," she found herself mumbling. "So maybe I'd think twice before making a run for Hogwarts. But tell me this – if it's all about me being underage, can you promise that in a year and a half when I turn seventeen you'll just snap out of this and let me go take my part in the fight?" That, she thought, was the big question that needed to be answered. And, as her father hesitated one second… then two… then three, she was sure the answer was exactly the one she'd expected and exactly the one she'd hoped not to get. "Well, there we have it, don't we, Daddy? You're just using age as an excuse."
Sirius huffed, annoyed more at himself than at Izzy. "It's not that easy. So, right now you're fifteen…"
"And a half," she firmly added.
"Sure, fifteen and a half," he said, accepting the correction. "But tell me, Izzybel – of those fifteen and a half years, how many have you been in my life?"
She pursed her lips together. "Three," she mumbled. Saying it felt so odd… it seemed like so much longer in her head.
"Three years," he repeated. "Leaving twelve we lost in between. When you put it into perspective, three years is too little, Izzy. And, yes, you're only one year and a half – even less than that – from turning of age and, by then, odds are I won't have a choice between letting you go or not. But although it may seem like a small leap from here to there, when you compare it to those three years we had as a family, it's a lot. Our time's been cut short – can't you understand why I don't want to cut it even shorter if I have a choice? Why I don't want you to grow too fast by sending back to Hogwarts to fend for yourself against Snape and the Carrows?"
"I won't be by myself," Izzy said. "I'll have my friends. The D.A. We'll all be in the same boat – like you and your friends were. And I do understand what you're trying to say – three years together is too little and one year and a half is too much when you want to skip it. But there will be years after that. Hopefully happy years, not… whatever this is. I won't have a foot out the door when I turn seventeen unless you make me."
Sirius tensed. "That's not fair."
"Neither is making me the reason why you and Mum will be making the top of the wanted list by not sending me back. It's not like they'll be turning Hogwarts into a slaughter house – it wouldn't make sense. They need followers and we're… well, I guess you could call us 'the future of the Wizarding World'. They need to brainwash us so we'll be on their side."
Her father gave her an incredulous look. "You actually think that's a soothing perspective?"
"No. But that's where you'll need to trust us not to be brainwashed. Believe it or not, I'm old enough to tell what's right apart from what's wrong."
With a long huff, Sirius sunk from the arm of the sofa to the seat at her feet. She was exhausting to argue with – always an answer prepared, always willing to annoy him. She would, as he'd said the previous day, be the death of him.
Oblivious to the tension in the room, little Alex delivered another draw to his older sister, who rewarded him with a smile and ordered yet another one, that time for him. Sirius took it as a sign that the truce between them was, at least partially, back on. He thanked Merlin for that as his head couldn't take more of it, especially when he was pretty sure nothing he said would make Izzy give up on her side of the argument and nothing she said would make him give up on his.
"So, what now? We just agree to disagree?" Izzy asked after a few seconds, like she shared his thought exactly.
He huffed. "I don't think that's going to work out. Eventually you'll either go or not go to Hogwarts and, no matter the decision," probably the latter, he added in his mind, "one of us won't be happy about it."
He had a point, she thought. And she hated that he did. Again. Why couldn't all arguments end with them agreeing? Why couldn't it just be simple? She didn't want to fight anymore. "Promise me something, Daddy," she finally requested.
"What?" he asked, curious about what she was going to ask.
"Promise you'll give McGonagall a chance to change your mind today," she said.
"What makes you think she will even try?" he replied.
Izzy shrugged. "Maybe she won't. But if she has something good to say, don't just shut it out. It's not fair if you do. I want to know I still have a chance."
He supposed it wasn't too much to ask from her part, although he could tell she was, even if just a little, trying guilt him into changing his mind. She definitely had that 'please, Daddy' look on her face. "She'd somehow find a way to punish me if I didn't listen at all, anyway," he said. "But in return, you have to promise me something."
"Name it."
"Either you stay or, for some completely messed up, very unlikely if not impossible reason, I do end up caving, promise you won't do something incredibly stupid. Something that, when you think of it, some part of you says 'yeah, Dad would definitely do this'."
She smiled just for the fact that he'd acknowledged the slim possibility of letting her go back. "Are you calling yourself stupid?"
"No. I'm calling myself wild, which is something I don't want you to be. So, promise me."
She huffed. That was a tricky one. "I promise I won't be wild just for the sake of being wild. But if circumstance requires me to…"
"That's not helping your case, Isabelle," he pointed out.
"I know. But I'd rather be honest," she stated.
He groaned. Of course she wasn't going to make it easy for him. She was his kid, after all. What could he expect? Stretching one arm towards her in an inviting fashion, he sighed. "Well, come here, then," he said.
Her lips curled a little and she shifted closer to her father, eventually resting her head on his shoulder and letting him wrap a protective arm around her. For a moment, it made her feel everything was back to normal… then it was all gone and she was aware that they were still in an impasse. It was moments like those that made her feel worse about it. "I hope you know that I'm not doing any of this to hurt you," she heard herself saying.
He nodded. "I know," he mumbled, kissing the top of her head. "Me neither."
"Are you sure this is it?" Sirius asked, staring at the large building in front of them.
"It's the right address," Mia replied, re-checking the note McGonagall had sent. "Unless Edinburgh has two streets with exactly the same name in the same neighbourhood, this is it."
"Right," he mumbled. It was a Hotel. One of those very fancy hotels with doormen and walls sprinkled with gold where you'd expect to find Muggles with formal clothing and very elaborate hats waiting for tea. "I don't think we're dressed for this place."
Mia turned to her husband, giving him a strange look. "I think that's the least of our worries these days," she pointed out, even though she recognized that their very basic Muggle clothes would feel out of place in the hotel McGonagall summoned them to.
Their reception into the building was, as expected, awkward with a snotty-looking receptionist trying but not succeeding to be polite as she tried to banish them – in her eyes hopeless tourists beneath the establishment – away from the lobby with a simple look. When they announced they were there to meet Minerva McGonagall, though, the woman looked so embarrassed one might swear she'd just insulted the queen herself, which led Sirius and Mia to wonder if their former teacher was a regular of some sort. Truth to be told, although they'd known McGonagall for years, they simply hadn't the palest idea what she did outside of school limits.
They were led by the very apologetic receptionist into a classy-looking dining room where there even seemed to be a harpist playing in a corner. As they walked across the room, Sirius and Mia looked at each other with eyebrows rising – that was definitely not what they'd been expecting for that afternoon.
A few seconds later, they spotted their Transfigurations master sitting at a secluded corner table, fully clad in fancy Muggle clothes but somehow looking very McGonagall-like at the same time – Sirius almost expected her to send him a stern look for something bad he did or even thought of doing and haul him to the nearest detention session.
By the time they were only a couple of yards away from the table, the receptionist turned on her heel without a word, as if something all of a sudden pulled her away from that general area. And, as they walked closer and closer, the sounds around them started to fade, like all the people around, as well as the harp's music, had suddenly gone mute. Sirius knew a good imperturbable spell when he stepped into one
"Well," he started just as they sat at the table, "I've got to say this isn't really the meeting place I expected. Somehow my mind pictured something along the lines of an abandoned building or some underground facility."
His former teacher raised an eyebrow at him. "Why, perhaps a World War II bunker next time, then?"
Mia cleared her throat and shot her husband a look that clearly told him to shut up. "Don't listen to him, Minerva. This is a very pleasant place," she said.
"Thank you. It belongs to a second cousin of mine from a Muggle branch of the family. Death Eaters often disregard family ties with Muggles, branding them as simple nuisances – I suppose that's an advantage to our side," the woman casually said as she took another sip from her cup, surprising both Sirius and Mia. They didn't even know McGonagall had a Muggle branch of her family in the first place – it was just odd how little they knew of a person they'd grown so attached to. "Well, anyway, I don't suppose we've come here to discuss our surroundings, have we?" the older woman said, always straight to the point.
"No, we haven't," Mia agreed. "So you've received our message."
McGonagall nodded. "Yes. You were lucky your patronus caught me outside of Hogwarts – I'm afraid these days they tend to… disintegrate upon crossing the school wards. A cautionary measure from our new management, you could say," she told them dryly.
"So that's why you couldn't answer in the same way?" Sirius asked. "Because those sure were some interesting notes you sent us."
"Well, I suppose I could have used a patronus, provided I cast it out of school limits – fortunately we're still allowed to leave whenever we want to, at least before the school year starts and harsher rules apply. But I was somewhat curious to test this little plan I'd come up with in my mind… for when our liberties become more limited. Current times require a certain amount of creativity from our part, I'm afraid."
"But how did that work?" Sirius asked. "Because I'm pretty sure Snape wouldn't have just handed you his letter and let you scribble on the back for the sake of saving parchment."
McGonagall sighed. "That would be far too much to ask from him these days wouldn't it? Obviously he wasn't aware he was sending my note along with his when he owled you – fortunately enough, Severus still does not inspect his own mail and he takes enough precautions to make sure his… peers do not intercept it either. That way, you could say that – how should I put this? – 'piggybacking' my messages on his own seemed like the safest way to get them out of the castle discretely, which might come handy eventually. I knew he'd be owling every member of the Hogwarts staff last night, so shortly after getting your patronus, I had a house-elf stealing all his stationary. That way, I could write my message to you on it and make it invisible until the person I intended it for touched the parchment. Then I just had it put back right where it was before and waited for him to send it out," the older woman explained.
"How did you know those exact pieces of parchment you wrote on would reach us in particular?" Mia asked, curious.
"I didn't," she confessed. "I copied the message to every single piece of parchment he owned. I suppose if you ever receive another letter from Severus on the same batch of stationary, you may find my message on the back again. I'm still perfecting the spell to make it will fade after being read – it's still a work in progress."
"It's bloody brilliant so far," Sirius observed, making the older woman's lips curl just a little, proudly. "I wouldn't mind learning it myself."
McGonagall gave him a slightly stern look. "Well, if you have a few years to spare in order to master scholar-level transfiguration, you actually might, Sirius. I always thought that if you put as much effort in studying as you did in horsing around with your friends, you might have turned into some sort of world-class scholar, Sirius."
He just looked at the woman silently for a few seconds. She couldn't be serious, could she? "On second thought, I'll leave the art of sneaky-messaging to you," he mumbled, quickly accepting that simply wasn't for him.
His former teacher shook her head in disapproval, mumbling something about some sort of waste. "Regardless," she said a few seconds later, "I imagine you have some questions to ask. I take that, seeing as you got my message, you already know what future you'll have at Hogwarts. Or lack of it," she added, looking pointedly at Sirius, indicating she already he'd been unceremoniously sacked.
"How bad is it over there?" Mia questioned.
McGonagall made a sour face. "It's not good. Just the fact that Dementors were now placed in charge of guarding the school makes it all more depressing. But, all in all, it could be worse."
"How?" Sirius asked. "Dementors are bad enough on their own but add that to the fact that the Carrows are living under the same roof as you and that Snape stole your job as headmistress and it sounds enough like hell to me."
The transfiguration master sighed, just managing to hide her resentment at having been unable to keep the job Dumbledore had entrusted her with. "Severus did steal my position as headmistress but at least he let me keep my job," she replied. "He let everyone stay, you being the glaring exception – I suppose your feud was just too much to swallow. And, also, there's Charity Burbage's situation, with her being missing for a few months. But the point is, he's taking a very firm position at the school."
"And how is that 'not bad'?" he inquired in disbelief.
McGonagall huffed in frustration. "Sirius, I can assure you I have absolutely no sympathy for Severus Snape after he did what he did to Albus. None whatsoever. But this position he's taking…" She hesitated, trying to figure out how to express her point. "The Carrows have no respect for him at all – I imagine he only keeps them around because his master demands it. But it seems he's set on showing them who's the headmaster of that school."
"How?"
"Well, let's just if it were up to the Carrows, every single member of the staff would have been sacked and replaced with someone from their side. Snape wouldn't have it, though – he insisted that that would be a step too far. It would give parents a better reason to risk not sending their children to a school full of enemies, regardless of the consequences."
"Guess he's not completely stupid, after all," Sirius mumbled. "But surely you don't think that means he's even somewhat on our side."
"Of course not. But he's smart and calculating," McGonagall said. "The Carrows are bold and too set on getting their fun, which isn't exactly the same concept as ours. Snape doesn't like it. He's set on showing them they won't have their way, so he only lets them get away with a small number of things and even then with several restrictions. He's making a stand for his own position by being contrary to them, which, so far, is good for us."
"And his lovely master just lets him get away with it?"
"I'd say he's quite trusted by his master – it appears murdering Dumbledore has given him quite an amount of leeway. And, if you want my opinion, he-who-must-not-be-named does somehow appreciate Snape putting the Carrows on a leash – they're sure to be loyal to him, yes, but their instability must make them very high-maintenance…" she observed thoughtfully. "In any case, Severus is busy with his power play for now but, as I said, he's calculating. A true Slytherin, if I ever met one. So, while in a short term this behaviour of his may be favourable to us, in a long term…" She sighed, stopping herself. "Let's just say that if you throw a frog into boiling water, it'll jump out as far as it can, but if you put it in a cauldron full of cold water and slowly let it simmer, it will boil before it knows it."
"Meaning he's trying to fool us and the parents into a false sense of security," Mia guessed.
McGonagall nodded. "Almost surely."
"Well, he won't be fooling us," Sirius concluded.
His former teacher took a sip of her tea. "You don't want to send your daughter back," she guessed easily, judging by his tone. "What does Isabelle have to say about that?"
"Nothing positive," Mia declared. "Izzy wants to go back very badly. She wants to fight her own battles and she doesn't want us to risk going to Azkaban on her account…"
"We can't expect much less from a Gryffindor, can we?" the other woman said, her lips curling just slightly with a hint of sad pride for her own house. "But I'm afraid her concerns are more serious than you're judging them. Especially if you consider the two of you won't be the only ones facing Azkaban if Isabelle doesn't show up at school on 1 September."
Sirius frowned deeply. He had a feeling more bad news were on the way. "What do you mean?"
McGonagall sighed. "You must be wondering how I gathered all this information," she said, confusing them for a moment by partially shifting the conversation. "Let me just say that house-elves can be very handy. Especially free ones. Very handy indeed, especially when you want to… overhear things. Unfortunately, those aren't always good things. It seems rumours of quite a number of parents intending to disobey the law and to keep their children away from Snape and the Carrows at Hogwarts, no matter the price, have reached You-Know-Who's ears." She imagined it hadn't occurred to him before just how much one would be willing sacrifice for love… "And, unfortunately, he found it fitting to offer people yet another incentive not to keep their children from Hogwarts. Not a positive one."
Mia looked at her former teacher in anticipation. "What is it?"
"Azkaban. Not just for the parents – for the children too."
Sirius stared at the woman in disbelief. "No," he mumbled. "No way. That's insane. That's…"
"…inhumane," Mia finished for him. "They're children. They're innocent. Most of them wouldn't have a say."
"It's not about the cause, Mia, it's about the consequences," McGonagall declared. "Parents will be left with no choice. If they were willing to give everything up for their children, they'll know that between sending them to school and sending them to Azkaban, the first will be the lesser evil. Would you risk making your daughter a fugitive?"
Sirius looked pale as a ghost. The thought of Izzy in Azkaban was imply vile. "We'll end up that way sooner or later. We're Harry Potter's family – that makes us targets."
"Maybe. Maybe they won't come after you for years. Maybe they'll spare the children and only use you two as bait for the sake of turning them into the next generation of their regime," McGonagall offered. "There are a lot of maybes attached to each decision. But I don't think I need to tell you what the real question here is."
No, he thought, she didn't. Because he was already asking it to himself. Could he live with knowing his daughter would become a fugitive over something he was making her do? While knowing that, were she ever caught, she'd be taken to the very same place that still sometimes haunted his nightmares?
Maybe it was only a matter of semantics – as he'd said, they might all become fugitives sooner or later. Azkaban might very easily slip back into the family's prospects… so, why did it just make him sick to think of even playing any sort of role on his daughter's potential downfall? While, at the same time, sending her back was a possibility he didn't even want to consider? Keeping her home was supposed to help her… "This is a nightmare," he said, rubbing his face on his hands.
Mia, looking equally devastated, was the next to speak. "Are you sure you got it right? That the children could really…?"
"You'll know by the time you get home," McGonagall declared. "Dobby said they were planning to announce it on the Evening Prophet today."
"Merlin…" Mia mumbled.
"This is not fair!" Sirius said quite loudly, yet completely unnoticed by the other tea-drinkers in the room. "They have no business bringing children into this! First Harry, now Izzy! It's not fair to them."
McGonagall gently placed a hand over this. It was in moments like those that she was glad she had never had children as much as she had wished in the past to be a mother. Being put in such a position, choosing between two evils for her child, was simply imaginable. "Nothing is fair in a war, Sirius. It isn't now and it wasn't last time around when you were children yourselves. I won't tell you how to raise your daughter, but, faced with this facts, I'd say she has a say in this. She'll be made responsible for the decision, therefore she has a right to choose."
She was right. For the first time since he'd heard the news about Death Eaters running Hogwarts, leaving it up to Izzy actually made sense in his mind, Sirius realized.
"We already know what she'll decide," Mia said.
"Then start planning how to deal with it. In any case, you need to know that Isabelle will be looked after. Albus left me in charge of that school and it will take much more than a few ministry decrees for me to simply hand that school for You-Know-Who and his servants to do as they please with my students. I can't promise to stop every little thing they do but I can assure you that I'll do everything in my power so no student of mine is hurt beyond repair. And if or when Hogwarts stops being a better alternative to Azkaban, I'll tear that place apart looking for a way to get those children out. We all will."
It was a powerful promise. The kind that would make people stand up and go along without a question. But, somehow, at the moment, it didn't seem like enough. Not nearly. He trusted McGonagall with his life. He should trust her with Izzy's too – in theory, he did. But there was still something… missing. He couldn't quite point a finger at what it was.
"Funny," Mia mumbled, "how unthinkable compromises start to sound appealing when faced with something like this."
Sirius turned to her, wondering what she meant. It took a single look between the two of them for him to get it. "He fired me. But not you."
Mia shook her head. "Not me."
The idea seemed appalling, to say the least. Sending not only his child but also his wife into a school run by Death Eaters. The danger, the separation… it was simply a nightmarish prospect. So, why couldn't he bring himself to protest it? He knew why. Because the one person he trusted as much as himself was Mia. He'd never trust anyone more than her to keep their child safe. That, he thought, was what was missing, as cruel as it might be in the end.
"Mia, are you sure?" McGonagall said, realizing their plan. "They won't let you keep your living arrangements. You'll be lucky if they let you come home one… maybe two weekends a month. You have very young children at home."
Mia didn't respond. Thinking of not seeing Alex or Mary for weeks made her feel hallow… at least partially – she'd only been apart from them for two, three days at the most.
"Izzy will hate it if you do this because of her," Sirius commented, his tone quiet, not letting out any emotion, like part of him had shut down.
"She'll live with it," Mia mumbled in return. Her eyes burned but she refused to cry. She didn't want to go. She didn't want Izzy to go. She didn't want Harry to be out there Merlin knew where. She wanted to close her eyes and be in another world, one without all that mess on it.
Was that so much to ask for? To ask for a world that wasn't set against them? Because any way they looked at it, it was always the same. And after all they'd gone through, both had the feeling that the year ahead of them was set to be the most stressful one of their lives. Merlin helped them.
A/N2: Once again, I hope you liked the chapter. A bit heavy, especially in the end. Feedback is welcome. Review!
