This disclaimer should be familiar and not need said by now.
"So." Sirius said, leaning against a tree with a blanket wrapped loosely around his thin shoulders.
"You got caught."
Vulpine, perched on a tree stump and maintaining a Warming charm that was blanketing them both, gave his fugitive Godfather a scathing look.
"You make it sound like it was my fault."
"Was it not?"
Vulpine pulled a face.
"Well, technically yes. But how was I supposed to know that the damn cat would bump my arm or that Dumbledore would have monitoring charms everywhere?"
"Shouldn't your paranoia have covered that?"
Vulpine scowled.
"Maybe. But I have limits, y'know?"
Sirius shrugged in reply. Vulpine frowned slightly, unwilling to admit that the older man had a point. His caution, while extensive, had not been enough. Still, there was a certain relief in not having to hide from Hermione any more.
"And you aren't here just to tell me about what happened." Sirius continued, annoyingly perceptive. Vulpine carefully smoothed his expression out, and gave Sirius a questioning look. The fugitive rolled his eyes.
"Give it a rest, Harry."
"Alright!" Vulpine snapped, irritated that Sirius had read him so well.
"It's…I don't exactly have anywhere else to go. I have a grand total of two friends, one of whom I killed in the ex-future, and the other thinks I'm a murderous psychopath. And even more, I'm surprised Hermione hasn't tried to kill me yet, given that she was in love with Weasley before I killed him. I'm…I find myself alone, Sirius. I can't say I like it."
Sirius frowned.
"Didn't you spend years alone in the ex-future?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious. Vulpine sighed.
"Not entirely. I hardly had many friends, but I had contact with enough people. And besides, being totally alone by your own choice is different to being isolated, one among many."
A memory rose violently inside Vulpine, but he supressed it with practised ease. He had no time for the pain of past events now. Sirius looked somewhat unimpressed- after all, he had spent thirteen years isolated in Azkaban.
"You'll forgive me if I'm not entirely sympathetic." The gaunt man drawled. Vulpine acknowledged it with a shrug. In his opinion sympathy was a waste when it couldn't be acted upon.
"Quite alright. I wouldn't expect any, and I don't need it. However, since you've pointed out that you know everything you need to, I expect you have no objections to me leaving?"
The smile Sirius gave was dryly amused.
"Oh, yes, I'd be delighted to be left in the cold Forest alone." He said. Vulpine laughed softly.
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Sirius." He replied. Sirius smiled.
"But you appreciate it, right?"
"Absolutely. Being around people who don't understand sarcasm is torture: they're the lowest of the low." Vulpine said, only half-jokingly. Sirius grinned with yellowing teeth, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Vulpine watched with an emotion he categorised as fondness. He tried not to think of the possible psychological ramifications of thinking of emotions like that- they probably weren't good. At least he was able to spend more time with his Godfather.
The Astronomy Tower was always somewhere Vulpine liked when he was in a dark mood. Something about the atmosphere seemed suitable, especially on a night like this. Winter, with the cold wind whipping across stone and playing icy fingers over cold skin. A discomfort to be relished, just like life. Vulpine leaned on the stone edging of the Tower, staring into the black night, wondering how long he would have to fall if he leaped. An eternity, and an instant, he thought to himself with a smile. One final act of defiance, perhaps, one final last cry against fate. He shook himself, breaking the line of thoughts. He was moody because of…well, because of Granger. In the interrogation she had called up him killing Daphne Greengrass, and Vulpine hadn't remembered it. He had brushed it off at the time, but it troubled him. He had always taken care to remember those of the Resistance he killed.
"Idiocy." He mumbled, the word barely audible even to him. It was ridiculous that he would be concerned over something like this, but he saw it as a blow to his integrity- what there was of it. He couldn't exactly claim to be a paragon of faith and truthfulness, after all. Vulpine tilted his head as his hearing caught faint footsteps on the stairs, and immediately pressed himself against the wall next to the door, quieting his breathing and pulling the Cloak close around himself. A slender figure walked into the moonlight, and Vulpine raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Blond hair, girl, Slytherin robes, about his height, recognisable and cold features…Daphne Greengrass. Clearly Fate had a bizarre sense of humour. But what was she doing up here? Ah well. Fortune favours the bold…or the foolish.
"I have to say, I didn't expect to see you up here, Greengrass."
She was quick, Vulpine noted. Not as fast as Granger, but it was impressive how she managed to spin and draw her wand in such a short space of time. Naturally, he let an amused smile edge his lips and stood quite still, his Cloak hidden inside his robes. Extra pockets were such a useful thing.
"What are you doing here, Potter?"
Cold voice. Icy expression. She really did put effort into being unapproachable. And her Occlumency shields were quite admirable. Not nearly enough to keep Vulpine out if he really tried, but he could appreciate the effort that must have gone into them. And she hadn't actually attacked him yet, which was nice.
"Stargazing, Greengrass. I wasn't aware that it was a crime." He responded easily. Almost the truth. In a way. And clearly she was better at identifying lies than he had thought, because a tiny frown marred porcelain skin for an instant.
"You're lying." Came the flat statement. Vulpine bit back an urge to smile insanely. It was so much more fun to engage in verbal sparring with someone who could tell when he was lying through ability, rather than guessing like Granger often resorted to.
"Am I? Perhaps. But I hardly think we know each other well enough to engage in fuzzy heart-to-heart conversations." Vulpine taunted. Greengrass eyed him thoughtfully, then shrugged fractionally and lowered her wand. Vulpine felt oddly disappointed.
"Not going to curse me?"
"Why would I do that? You are hardly a threat."
Vulpine wanted to laugh. She was so confident in herself. Of course she was right in that he wasn't a threat to her -at the moment- but still…
"What makes you think that? I was sure that Malfoy had poisoned Slytherin against me."
She gave him a level glance, and he thought he saw the slightest hint of humour in her eyes.
"Malfoy's words would only confirm you as not being a threat. I would not trust what Malfoy says, but you are a Gryffindor, are you not? Noble and chivalric."
Vulpine decided not to disillusion her yet. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he had concluded that attempting to get to know the girl would be suitable penance for forgetting her alternate future-self, and was slightly disturbed by the thought. Still. An informant in the snake-pit might be of use at some point, and extra connections were always welcome, so his stance on always having an ulterior motive was appeased. His reputation with Granger would not suffer too much, assuming she found out.
"Nobility and chivalry are, I find, overrated. Especially as they do not quite exclude such things as bigotry and narrow-sightedness." Vulpine said eventually, picking his words carefully. In his opinion Gryffindor House had hardly acted in a 'noble' or 'chivalric' fashion during his school years, but he couldn't express too much frustration with them. It would be too out of character for his naive thirteen year-old self. Greengrass gave him a look that suggested he was an idiot, but Vulpine thought he saw some sympathy mixed in.
"So," he said, carefully choosing his words, "Since we seem to be having a conversation that is moving dangerously close to civility, why are you up here at this time of night?"
A cold gaze swept over him, and then Greengrass gave a tiny shrug.
"I sometimes find the atmosphere of the Common Room to be…distasteful." She admitted. Vulpine raised an eyebrow at all that could imply, and how much was unsaid. Although, if she had joined the Resistance, it suggested that her beliefs were hardly in line with the rest of Slytherin. At least, the more vocal members of Slytherin.
"Not a unique grievance, I assure you." He murmured. She didn't respond, merely gazing out into the night. Vulpine considered, then decided to quit while he was ahead. After all, the wand waiting in the Chamber of Secrets would hardly craft itself. He turned to the stairs, giving a quiet farewell.
"See you around, Greengrass."
She didn't give a verbal reply, but he didn't expect her to. After all, making friends takes time.
Hermione was confused. She had, after thinking it over, decided to treat Vulpine as much like Harry as she could, simply to hide the truth. She had thought that he would make it difficult for her, but instead he seemed subdued. Not overly so: he still took an inordinate delight in teasing and aggravating her, but his heart didn't really seem to be in it, and he even managed to be civil to Ron once the redhead had finally deigned to speak to them again. Yes, Vulpine had been sardonically caustic- the phrase "Excuse me for taking the side of the person who didn't say 'It's ok if you fall off your broom so long as you catch the Snitch first'" had been used- but mostly, the disdain Vulpine had shown towards Ron was repressed. She found herself working alongside Vulpine several times when the holidays ended and, she had to admit, it was nice to have someone who was able to keep up with her without apparent effort. She was quite interested that Vulpine didn't try to get out of his Patronus lessons with Professor Lupin, instead agreeing to attend at the time Lupin suggested. She confronted Vulpine about it, and he gave her an odd answer.
"Why wouldn't I want to face the Boggart? Facing my greatest fear might be just the thing to help me get over it." He had said, his expression neutral. She suspected that something was wrong, as he was rarely this neutral in manner, but let it pass. She would attend the lesson, though, she decided. And so, Hermione found herself trailing down the corridor after Vulpine at eight o'clock on the Thursday of the first week after the holidays. Vulpine gave no indication that he knew she was there, simply striding along with a smooth and steady pace. She wondered if Vulpine intended to inform Lupin of the truth, or if he would prefer to keep the man in the dark. She herself was undecided. After all, Dumbledore would not have told Lupin, but he had told Snape, and the Headmaster had not exactly been proactive with the information she had given him. She would have to make her own decisions based on what Vulpine did. React. Not her favourite option, but the only one really left open to her. The classroom was empty when they arrived, but Vulpine simply lit several lamps and leaned against the wall. Hermione settled herself at a desk near the back of the room. Luckily, they were not waiting long.
"Hello Harry…oh, Miss Granger. What are you doing here?" asked Professor Lupin, walking in with a large box floating just behind him.
"I told her about the lesson and she wanted to come as well. Is that ok?" Vulpine said, his voice laced with just the right amount of nervousness. Hermione silently acknowledged his acting skills. Lupin smiled.
"Of course it is. It may be a little more difficult, as Miss Granger will probably not have a Dementor Boggart, but I am sure it can be done. Ah, I should have mentioned that before. I found this Boggart in Mr Filch's filing cabinet- it should take on the form of a Dementor when near you, Harry. Infinitely safer and easier to keep contained than a real Dementor, anyway."
Hermione wondered at that. It was her theory that Boggarts, rather than seeing what a person feared most took on the form of the fear that was most relevant to the target at the time. Hence her own Third Year Boggart of exam failure- not really her true greatest fear. It must be some kind of Legilimency, she mused, but an odd type, not affected by Occlumency. Maybe something to look into in the future. Lupin was explaining how the Patronus Charm worked, with Vulpine nodding along and making the appropriate noises. She hastily thought about how she could botch the spell enough to make it seem appropriate- after all, she could easily produce a corporeal Patronus. Her otter was perhaps not as powerful as the stag Vulpine had used to conjure, or the shining fox that had been the last Patronus he had demonstrated, but it was far beyond what a Third Year should be able to create. Perhaps if she used a memory that wasn't particularly happy? The only other choice was to restrain the amount of magic she poured into the spell, something that was fiddly. And she couldn't be certain that it wouldn't just create a weaker corporeal Patronus. Still, she would try. She settled for the first option, and wondered if Vulpine would do the same. Lupin watched silently as Vulpine raised his wand and slowly spoke the incantation. A wisp of silvery mist whooshed from his wand, and Vulpine gave a pleased grin that looked entirely genuine.
"Well done, Harry!" Lupin said, smiling. "Miss Granger? Or is Hermione good enough?"
"Hermione is fine, Professor." Hermione said, affecting a diffident manner. Lupin smiled encouragingly at her, and she focused on her chosen memory.
"Expecto patronum!"
To her embarrassment, the silvery mist that she managed to produce was considerably stronger than Vulpine's, and almost seemed to be on the verge of taking physical form. Vulpine gave her a look of amusement from behind Lupin, who was looking utterly shocked.
"Most impressive, Hermione. I would not have expected that-"
"Hermione's a prodigy, sir. I've never seen a spell she couldn't do." Vulpine cut in, his voice laced with the pride a boy might take in his best friend. Hermione made a mental note to thank him for the distraction, distasteful as that thought might be.
"Oh. Well, I am very impressed, Hermione. I would expect such a display from a much older student." Lupin praised. Hermione blushed slightly- apparently she still wasn't quite over appreciating praise from authority figures. Vulpine was rolling his eyes and wearing a sardonic expression, but she could ignore that.
"So, shall we begin? Harry, your Boggart should be a Dementor, so we will have to start with you." The Professor said, walking over to the large case he had brought into the room. Vulpine lost his amused look, an expression of wariness settling onto his features. Hermione adjusted her stance fractionally- Vulpine was a ruthless killer and a practiced Dark Wizard. Something he feared could be flat out deadly, even with the lessened abilities a Boggart copy would possess. It might not even be a Dementor. Lupin pulled the lid of the box off and stepped away. A pale hand stretched out of the box and gripped the side, and Vulpine went utterly white. A pale boy-young man- with night black hair rose slowly to his feet, and fixed gleaming eyes upon Vulpine. A small smile edged the Boggart-figures lips, and Hermione noticed that it had one hand clenched over its stomach, blood running from a hidden injury. Its voice seemed weak, as though it was dying.
"I'm dying." It whispered, and Hermione frowned. Surely death was not what Vulpine truly feared. The Boggart spoke again, the voice as perfect a match for a seventeen year-old Vulpine as the appearance.
"But at least I managed it. Voldemort is gone…Dumbledore will be proud. He can save everyone now…I've given everything to stop Voldemort…for the Greater Good…"
Vulpine made a strangled noise in his throat, wand moving in an uncertain motion. Hermione couldn't believe it. Romulus Vulpine, feared assassin, murderer without remorse, and his greatest fear was this. Dying? It couldn't be, could it? Vulpine himself spoke, his uncertainty gone and his voice utterly devoid of emotion.
"I will not die a puppet of the meddling old man! Sanguinis morior!" he rasped, his wand flicking in a practiced motion. Hermione blanched at the spell, and the Boggart screamed in what sounded like agony as the burgundy jet of light hit him…it. Hit it. A Blood-Rotting curse, similar to the Blood –Freezing curse, it caused the blood of the target to become corrosive to the surrounding flesh. It needed power, but properly cast was a brutally effective spell. Vulpine didn't hesitate, wheeling and sending a flickering array of spells at Lupin. All of them low grade, but the shocked teacher wasn't able to evade and collapsed, victim of a Body-Bind spell.
"You are not me." Vulpine said coldly, though Hermione detected a faint tremor under the cold tone.
"You are not me, and never will be! The Greater Good! Nothing but a lie to entice fools to their deaths! I will not fall forgotten! I will not die a martyr!" He snarled, his voice growing louder as he went on. The Boggart looked up, a grin twisting its face as it started to lose coherency. It spoke again, but this time its voice sounded almost ethereal, and malicious.
"Fear, child. I feed upon it, and yours is sweet indeed."
Vulpine snarled in rage, and his wand snapped out again. Flame blossomed at the tip, but the Boggart had slid back into its box with only the fading ghost of a chuckle left behind. Hermione snapped her own wand out.
"Stupefy!"
Vulpine twisted a fraction, and the flame at the tip of his wand spread into a shield that consumed the red jet of light that was her spell before sliding to the floor, forming a puddle of fire that lapped around Vulpine. Hermione's lips tightened at the display.
"What do you think you're doing, Granger?" Vulpine asked, the silky tones not quite hiding the anger and bloodlust he felt.
Hermione bit her lip nervously. Another standoff. She had to stop getting into these.
Vulpine was caught between rage and hate, somehow managing to attain an equilibrium of utter calm. The Boggart…that thing had dared to impersonate him, dared to bring up what might have been, if he had been different. A sacrificial puppet for Dumbledore to use at will, and the mere possibility enraged him. He should not have been able to use Dark magic like the Blood-rotting curse. Not with this annoying wand, yet his rage and hate had fuelled him enough to cast the spell anyway. Intriguing, noted a small part of his mind. Most of his mind was devoted to staring down Granger, who was holding a determined expression and facing him with her wand up. He hoped she listened to reason, even if a duel with her might serve to bleed off some of his wrath. Unfortunately it was likely that such a duel would draw Dumbledore down upon him again, which would be a problem. And the drain from the Blood-rotting Curse wasn't helping. Damn this thirteen-year old body. Hermione was holding her wand remarkably steady, pointing right between his eyes.
"What do you think you are doing?" she demanded. Her voice was icy cold, and filled with determined threat. Well, that wasn't good. Vulpine focused, and extinguished the flame that was still at his feet. It wasn't quite Fiendfyre, but he tended to have odd magical reactions when angry. He might accidentally make it sentient, and then the castle might end up in ruins. Cursed fire was a wonderfully malevolent thing.
"I would say that I was getting rid of a pest." Vulpine replied to Hermione, narrowing his eyes and focusing his thoughts. A Legilimency attack first, and then a barrage of lower level spells. She probably wouldn't be expecting it. Hopefully.
"Most people don't consider Fiendfyre an adequate pest remover." Hermione replied tightly. Vulpine frowned, his anger easing a fraction in his chest as his mind started to reassert full control.
"That wasn't Fiendfyre. I'm hurt that you think I would summon something like that inside the school."
Not to mention the fact that he couldn't summon Fiendfyre without the incantation.
"Than what was it?" Hermione demanded. Vulpine rolled his eyes.
"Lesser cursed fire. Fiendfyres little brother, without the annoying sentience and tendency to consume. Can we stop staring each other down now? Lupin looks like he's about to pass out."
Rather hilariously in Vulpine's opinion, Hermione squeaked and turned to the prone werewolf. His anger dropped a good notch at the sight- it was hard to be angry when this comedy gold was occurring. Thanks to the way he had layered his spells, a simple Finite Incantatem wasn't enough to free Lupin. Ah, redundancy. Hermione's increasing frustration was remarkably soothing, but he had better do something before she actually managed to unravel the tangled spells holding Lupin. He cleared his throat.
"Maybe we should tell him what's going on before we release him?" he suggested. Hermione blinked at him.
"Why would we…oh. Right. He's not going to take it well, is he?"
"I would say not, no. And I don't particularly want to have to duel, stun, maim, whatever…just easier to tell him everything while he's tied up."
"That's…astonishingly sensible. Ok. But maybe we should put him somewhere more-"
Vulpine sighed in mild annoyance and flourished his wand. A chair floated into an open space, and Lupin levitated before folding into a more sitting position and was settled on the chair.
"Happy now?"
Hermione frowned at him, but she seemed less likely to attack and more simply aggravated.
"Hardly. Reacting that way to a fear of death is a little drastic."
Vulpine frowned at her. Clearly she hadn't understood.
"Death? That wasn't death, Granger. If I feared Death it would have been an image of my dead body. That Boggart was a fear of…not existing. The weakling I would have been if Dumbledore had his way." He said, leaving his voice carefully neutral. Hermione frowned, a troubled look crossing her face, and then turned to Lupin.
"Ok, Professor, this is all going to sound strange. But it I the truth." Hermione said, before she paused and took a deep breath. Vulpine waited for roughly fifteen seconds, and then got bored and butted in.
"Granger and I are from a future that depending on viewpoint was either lovely or horrible. Obviously Granger found it horrible, so she travelled back through time and I hitched a lift without her consent or knowledge. And yes, I am distinctly murderous and amoral. I am, however, holding my more homicidal impulses in check on account of them being more of a hindrance at the moment. Any questions? Oh right, you're still silenced."
Vulpine was the immediate recipient of two glares. Like all threats to his person, it made him smile widely and a touch maniacally. Hermione's glare turned a little wary, but she knew him well enough to recognise the signs that he was enjoying himself, rather than readying for battle. Lupin was looking at him as though he was insane, which was probably a reasonable response.
"He doesn't believe us, Granger." He said. Hermione glanced at Lupin, and sighed.
"Since when was it back to 'Granger'?" she asked, evidently to give her some time to think. Vulpine paused, considering. When had he gone back to that? And why?
"No idea…Hermione. Got any ideas? I can demonstrate my Animagus form if necessary. And I've already shown that I can cast rather advanced magics."
Hermione hummed to herself, glancing at an incredulous Lupin.
"Maybe we should ask the Professor?" she suggested. Vulpine shrugged.
"If you like." He murmured, waving his wand and carefully cancelling only the Silencing spell. Lupin blinked at them, and carefully cleared his throat.
"Harry-"
"Just…what will it take to prove this? I can tell you that I know about you being a werewolf, I can tell you that I know about the Marauders, but…aha!"
Struck by a sudden inspiration, Vulpine rummaged through the inner pockets of his robe until he produced a tiny vial of a clear liquid, holding it up triumphantly. Hermione stared at it.
"Is that-"
"Veritaserum, yes. Swiped it from Snape in the corridors- he's probably wondering where his personal stash went even now."
"You pickpocketed him!" Hermione hissed, her reflexive response to anyone going against authority clearly not entirely gone. Vulpine smiled in genuine amusement.
"Sleight of hand is a very useful trick. Anyway, if we're using Veritaserum, it's your turn. I went under it when you, Snape and Dumbledore questioned me."
Hermione looked affronted, so Vulpine continued.
"And I'm less likely to ask something, ah, sensitive than you are. I might have some talent to resist Veritaserum, but not that much."
"Sensitive. By that I assume you mean that you don't want Lupin to hear anything about how you made a living?" Hermione asked flatly. Vulpine gave her a sardonic look.
"I openly admitted to being amoral and murderous. What more could I say, that I technically class as a Dark wizard and that if the world was fair I'd be in Azkaban?"
Lupin's shocked expression was hilarious. Vulpine mentally saved that one to have a good laugh at later. Hermione was still frowning, but she had taken on a different stance that he recognised as defeat. Vulpine smiled as he unscrewed the lid of the Veritaserum.
"Now, open wide…"
Vulpine was rather glad for the solitude of the Chamber. Yes, it was cold and damp and starting to smell of rot, but it was away from the various people that might cause him trouble. Especially Hermione and Lupin. Lupin had, not all that unexpectedly, been rather disappointed and disgusted by the future Vulpine had lived and the person he had become. It actually hurt, not that the assassin had shown that. Vulpine pushed thoughts aside and turned back to the laburnum wand lying on the rough workbench. Completed at last, the wand was plain, undecorated. A tool, but beautiful to his eyes. Vulpine slowly put out his hand, and picked it up. Magic swirled and rushed, and Vulpine tilted his head back, eyes closing involuntarily as the wand settled itself in his fingers. Power. So familiar, dark and soothing, unlike the insipid feel of the holly and phoenix feather wand. Vulpine smirked to himself.
"At last. So much better. Now…I suppose I should clean up this place."
Vulpine turned, his new wand moving in easy, flowing motions as he incanted spells. The massive Basilisk corpse, still more or less intact, was flayed, skin stripped from flesh and flesh stripped from the bone. The bones and skin Vulpine stacked in the chamber with powerful preservation spells over them, while the flesh he Vanished. The blood had already dried up, but the internal organs he treated the same as the skin and bone. Vulpine was curious to see if Basilisk heartstring had similar properties to dragon heartstring. Once that was done he transfigured a chunk of stone into a seat and slumped into it, waiting for his energy to rebuild. He had almost forgotten that in this younger body he had access to much less power- he would have to be careful.
"Best not get carried away- this wand might let me use my magic more easily, but it doesn't mean there's any more of it." He mused aloud, rolling the stick of wood between dextrous fingers. Once he felt recovered enough he stood making his way over to the massive statue of Slytherin.
"~Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four~." he hissed, the Parseltongue flowing from him almost naturally. He wasn't a born Parselmouth, but the Horcrux he had carried had caused the ability to…imprint…upon his soul. Even once he had gotten rid of the soul fragment he had retained the ability to speak in the tongue of serpents, and practice had allowed him to become proficient in it. The mouth of Slytherin grated open and, with a slight shiver of annoyance, Vulpine levitated himself and stepped into the contained passageway. The Chamber was, ironically, not that impressive: the passageway in the statue led to a large, round room where the Basilisk had lived, with another room a considerable distance away that sat under the Forbidden Forest. That room had magically hidden trap doors in the roof, allowing passing animals to fall in. They died on impact, yes, but evidently the Basilisk had not minded its food being a little squished. Vulpine carefully cleared away the corpses and freshened the air before setting to tinkering with the wards on the trapdoors. Just under an hour later they would open only for him. Excellent. Another way into the castle that nobody else could access. Vulpine set about levitating himself again, up through the cavernous room. He'd really have to get a ladder or something. Using this much magic was tiring.
"Sirius!" called Vulpine, striding into the clearing that the fugitive had taken as a temporary home. The haggard man looked at him, eyes bleary from sleep.
"Harry?"
"Me, yes. How would you like a change of location? Not a very nice one- cold, damp and all that, but drier and warmer than out here, inside Hogwarts, nice and inaccessible."
Sirius grinned.
"Sounds perfectly lovely."
"You seem shaken." Vulpine commented once they were back in the Chamber, a grin edging his lips. Sirius glared at him.
"You could have warned me that we were stood on a trap door!"
"Where would be the fun in that, Padfoot? I need my amusement." Vulpine replied. He himself was looking thoughtfully at the Chamber, while Sirius sat on the stone chair Vulpine had transfigured earlier. He didn't look comfortable, but then again the seat was solid rock.
"I think I'll steal some furnishings from the Slytherin dorm. That seems appropriate." Vulpine said. Sirius looked at him thoughtfully.
"Not to rain on your parade, but how do you intend to do that? It seems rather complicated and risky just for me." He said. Vulpine waved a dismissive hand.
"The Common Room door responds to Parseltongue, usefully enough. No-one would suspect the Gryffindor Golden Boy of committing such an act, and I'm not going to make you sleep on stone. You're the only family I have that I like."
Sirius turned his face away at that, and his voice went suspiciously gruff, so Vulpine set off to carry out his plan. He exited near the Slytherin Common Room, his Invisibility Cloak wrapped around himself. It was around ten at night- hopefully at least one dorm room would be empty. Vulpine leaned against the door, waiting. He could, of course, simply open it with Parseltongue, but it would be quite suspicious to have the door open on its own. He was in luck, for after only ten minutes or so a figure he recognised walked down the corridor. Greengrass. Coincidences truly did abound. The Slytherin girl paused at the portrait hole, taking a deep breath and glancing around. Vulpine was mildly surprised that she seemed to be settling her customary mask into place.
'Not so stoic.' He thought dryly. Then again, anyone who was that stoic all the time should get their head examined. He slipped through the portal after Greengrass, immediately sliding into the shadows of the dungeon Common Room. Nobody should have been able to notice him, but it was better not to take chances- after all, it wasn't paranoia if they really were out to get you. The Common Room was quite full, and yet no-one acknowledged Greengrass. Vulpine frowned. The silent treatment. Odd, that, although he was willing to bet that the treatment would be a lot less silent after Voldemort returned. Strangely enough, he felt a pang of sympathy for the girl as she walked towards her dormitory, but he suppressed it. He had looting to do. And what looting, he thought as he sneaked into the Slytherin Third Year boy's dormitory. Grinning smugly, Vulpine flourished his wand, banishing all the bedclothes in the room and shrinking four of the beds. With that done, he tucked them into yet another inner pocket and went to work on stealing the rugs as well. Maybe he should take the armchairs in the Common Room as well…that might be an idea. Vulpine continued to grin as he slipped back into the Common Room and settled in a corner to wait, using the clearing of the room to shrink and pocket several chairs that were hidden inconspicuously in corners. Malfoy's reaction to finding his bed missing, when he eventually retired to bed, was golden- Vulpine thought he might actually cry with holding back the laughter. But all things must end, and when the blond suggested getting Snape Vulpine decided it was time to get out of dodge. As such, he followed Malfoy out of the portrait hole and headed back to the Chamber, a set of stolen furniture hidden in his pockets.
"I'm not fond of the green." Sirius complained. Vulpine crooked an eyebrow at him.
"I can take it back if you-"
"No!" Sirius yelped, hugging one of the posts. Vulpine laughed at his reaction.
"It doesn't even have bedding, Sirius."
"But you can get some, right?" Sirius asked, looking at Vulpine with a hopeful expression. Vulpine scowled.
"Stop giving me those puppy eyes, Black. I'll get you some bedding, yes, if the House Elves are agreeable. I might even be able to get you some clean clothes."
Sirius now wore an expression dangerously close to hero worship, and began shifting forwards. Vulpine pointed his wand at him.
"One attempt at a hug, Padfoot, and I'll turn you into a plushie. And give it to a First Year."
"You are cruel, you know that?"
Vulpine smirked.
"Oh, I know. So, clothes, bedding and food?"
"You are my God."
"I know."
Hermione waited in the Common Room, a book held loosely in her fingers. She was far ahead in her work- while she remembered being stressed originally, ten extra years made lessons a breeze. Vulpine was probably having a similar experience- although, if she remembered correctly, he claimed to have never fully exerted himself during his original school years. Given that he was a Transfiguration prodigy, yet had never shown any real talent above average in school she was inclined to believe him. She straightened in her seat as he entered the empty Common Room, whistling to himself and twirling a wand in his fingers. He eyes fixed on the wand: she recognised it. Not his Holly wand, this one was more yellow: almost a butter yellow-laburnum wood.
"Where did you get that wand?" she asked quietly. Vulpine looked up, affecting surprise. The wand vanished into his sleeve in a display of sleight of hand.
"Which wand?" he asked innocently. Hermione gave him a look of disgust.
"The one made of laburnum that you were clearly hiding in your sleeve." She replied acidly. Vulpine smiled in a whimsical fashion.
"I just can't hide anything from you, can I? As it happens, I've been putting in effort to get myself back to having a, ah, suitable wand."
Hermione shuddered to think of what he would consider suitable. On the other hand, she was quite impressed that his abilities had carried over well enough for him to craft what seemed to be a good wand, if his grin indicated anything. She held out her hand.
"May I?"
Vulpine eyed her thoughtfully, then slid the wand from his sleeve and passed it over. Hermione took it carefully, unconsciously tilting her head as she felt the wand. It had a dark feel to it, not unfriendly like the wand she had taken from Bellatrix Lestrange once, but more…cautious. Wary, almost, yet not malevolent. She wondered what that said about how Vulpine felt towards her. He was looking at her, she realised.
"Going to keep that, or can I have it back?" he asked, mildly teasing. She flushed a little.
"Oh, of course. Here." She said, handing the wand back. He smiled slightly, slipping it into the inner breast pocket of his open robes before sprawling into the chair opposite her. It still seemed odd to see him dressed in the open robes and jumper of his school uniform, rather than the clothes he had preferred in the future- shirt, scarf, greatcoat. Hermione had always suspected that he had chosen it at least partially on appearances, but Vulpine had never confirmed nor denied that.
"I have a question." Vulpine said carefully. Hermione looked at him quizzically, still a little surprised by how amiable and civil he was. She was still undecided on whether or not it was an act.
"Ask."
"Daphne Greengrass. Why did she join the Resistance?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Why ask?"
"Because, as you may have realised, I had a somewhat grudging respect for the Resistance and attempted to either not kill them, or remember who they were. And yet, all I know about Greengrass is that she's an attractive Slytherin with a remarkable poker face. So. Spill."
Hermione considered for a while, then decided that it wouldn't hurt. Besides, maybe getting Vulpine to open up and realise what he had done would make him realise his mistakes and return truly to the side of Light. So thinking, she told him what she knew.
"Daphne was…I think that her family was a bit like the Blacks. Not as wealthy or as influential, but they thought Voldemort had the rights ideas. They just disapproved of the methods, and maybe the thought that he had not been heard of in Pureblood circles gave them pause. They kept out of the war…oh, they gave funding, but nothing else. I know that Daphne didn't agree with her parents for some reason…she never really said much. Quiet, really. Withdrawn." Hermione recalled. Vulpine nodded slowly, a look of what might almost be understanding in his eyes. Hermione didn't understand it, but she felt that she couldn't let him go on that note as he stood.
"Vulpine…harry. I…would you be able to make me another wand? Like the one you made in the future?" she asked. She hated to say it, but the wand Vulpine had made her was the best she had ever used. Already at the foot of the stairs, Vulpine half turned and gave her a rakish smile.
"Well, who could refuse such an eloquent request? Of course I'll make you a wand. Don't stay up too late- school tomorrow, remember? Sleep well, Hermione."
Hermione looked after his vanishing form, she wondered why she felt so pleased that he'd talked to her as though they were truly back in Third Year, friends before the darkness of the world bore down upon them.
So. Continuing, as always, if slowly. Nonetheless, I'll try and pick up the pace. On the other hand, I am greatly amused that Foxes Fate, despite having far fewer words, favourites and Followers has almost as many reviews as Emerald And Argent. Keep it up, chaps! Enjoy.