3. THE PLAN
Sirius sat at breakfast and looked over the table at his … wife. Claire. The Hufflepuff Princess. Dumbledore's newest spy. They were married for three days now and he still had problems to thinks of her as his wife. But she was, by decree of the mayor and her next of kin.
Valerius Winterstorm, a scrawny old wizard with a neck like a vulture, had dismissed Sirius' reputation as a mass-murderer with an impatient snort, as soon as Dumbledore had assured him that no Muggle had diluted the Blacks' bloodline in the last five generations.
"Riddle is a bastard, damn Mudblood he is," he muttered and wrote Sirius' name into the family tree on a huge roll of parchment.
The goblin from Gringott's had not even looked at him, so eager had he been to have Claire's signature under the papers he had brought. "Very honoured to deal with you, Mrs White," the clerk bowed his way out of Claire's salon. "Your instinct where money is concerned is almost that of a goblin's." - a praise that brought tears of suppressed laughter into Claire's eyes - and relieved Sirius somewhat. After all he had never seen his … wife laugh until then.
Now she looked up from the pile of letters and papers she kept beside her plate.
"What?"
He shrugged. „How are you going to spend your day?"
"I'll go through the books, answer some letters. Same as every day, really."
Sirius picked up the 'Daily Prophet' and congratulated himself not to see his own face stare at him off the front-page as it had so often two years ago. They had picked the worst picture then of course. Sometimes even he had been scared when he saw it scowl off a news-stand he passed as a black dog.
"By the way, we got an invitation, by Lucius Malfoy."
He put the paper down. "Malfoy?"
"He suggest to get to know each other before he introduces us to his … master." Claire took a sip of tea. "I accepted on our part."
"You what?"
"I accepted. This is why we married, isn't it? To gain admission to the Inner Circle. And Malfoy is one of them."
"You could have asked me at least." Sirius frowned. His blue eyes darkened until they matched his hair.
"But why?" She stared at him defiantly.
He was lost for words. "It involves both of us. I need to know."
"It is my plan. We agreed you'd go with it."
"As long as it is not stupid and dangerous."
"If you are afraid, I'll go alone!"
"No, you won't."
"Just watch me!"
She pushed back her chair and ran from the room.
Sirius gritted his teeth and threw the 'Daily Prophet' where it belonged - into the waste basket. He gave her ten minutes to calm down - ten minutes he needed dearly to calm down himself. Then he went up the stairs, only to find an elf with bulging eyes standing guard in front of Claire's door. The little creature's ears hung down in distress but her fists were clenched, and even though Sirius could have smashed her with one hit of his fist, the elf looked as if she was determined to stand her ground.
"Get out of my way, little one," he growled.
"No," squeaked the elf, her voice higher than ever. "Miss Claire's Sirius, you is not to yell at the Miss! You is to be her husband, to be nice."
Sirius winced inwardly. They had given him that ridiculous name when Claire had introduced him to her household after the wedding. And they had sickeningly romantic ideas about married live.
„Open the damned door, Claire." He kept his voice down, just loud enough to let her know that he would enter her bedroom if she didn't come out immediately.
The elf jibed: "You does not yell at Miss Claire!"
Sirius grabbed her at the neck of the towel-dress and lifted her up to sit her down a few steps away from the door, but the elf kept kicking his shin and wriggling like a rabbit, and when the door flew open, he still had the wailing creature in his hand.
Claire stared at him, saw the broad shoulders, the tall frame, the anger in his eyes and felt her face pale. Sirius set the elf down and looked at his hands as if he had never noticed how big they were.
Claire hunched down to stroke the elf's head. "Are you Ok, Lilly?"
"I is kicking him! I is kicking him!" Lilly jumped with excitement."
Sirius promptly rubbed his shin which made the elf beam with pride.
"Thank you, Lilly," Claire said. "Leave us alone now. He is not angry anymore." Looking up at Sirius who towered over her, she swallowed doubtfully.
"Don't run out on me ever again, Claire." Sirius' voice was low and threatening. "I don't like the idea of being the accused without the chance to defend myself or explain. And don't ever lock your door on me." Only then he noticed that there was no lock under the doorknob. There was no lock under his doorknob either. In the whole manor no door would ever be locked again.
„I didn't run out on you! You have no idea how it is to be alone all the time," Claire spit. "To have nobody to talk to but parents who treat you like a child, and elves who treat you like ... well, like elves treat everybody. No, I have no idea how to discuss something. I never had to!"
Sirius leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Whether you believe it or not, I know how it is to have nobody to talk to."
Claire suppressed a sob. Azkaban. He had spent twelve years in a cell in a fortress in the North Sea, while she had pitied herself in her cosy bedroom. Embarrassed about the accusations she had hurled at him, she sought the right words and found nothing but:
"Sorry."
He bowed his head. "So am I."
She cleared her throat. "I just never had to answer anybody. My parents of course, but they were old, and content as long as I didn't leave the house."
"Claire, we have to find a way to go through this together," he sighed. "And I haven't been a team-player lately myself. But please, don't accept invitations without asking me, OK?"
"But it is my plan!"
She had to say it. It sounded stupid and childish but she just had to say it.
Sirius stared at her. So small and fragile, and yet so stubborn. Just why did nobody listen to his reasonable arguments anymore? She even stuck her chin out just like Harry had done ... He suddenly noticed that she wore nothing but a towel. Her hair dripped, still wet from the shower. His throat got dry. He'd go into his bedroom, open all the windows and damn the day when he agreed to marry Claire Winterstorm.
"It is your plan." His voice was low and almost a caress. "But I'd like very much to be still alive when we are through with it."
* * *
„Mr Potter, a word please."
Professor Lupin dismissed the class and looked at Harry expectantly.
"Got yourself in trouble again, Potter?" Draco Malfoy grinned at him before his ran out.
Hermione and Ron hovered at the door, uncertain if they should wait and what Harry had done this time.
"What's wrong lately?" Hermione asked softly. She had spent too much time with her essay on a problem in Arithmancy to pay too much attention to Harry's strange behaviour. But even she had noticed how Harry had not said a word through Professor White's class. Usually he looked forward to Transfiguration for Animagi all week. But this time he had avoided White's gaze, and had not even answered direct questions.
"He is not in trouble," smiled Lupin. "But I need to talk to him nonetheless."
The Gryffindors left, not without a last gaze at Harry, who gave them a noncommittal shrug.
Remus looked at the boy, who stood by his desk, his hand clamped around his book-bag.
"Why don't you sit down, Harry, while we talk?"
"I'd rather stand. Quidditch training starts in five minutes and I don't want to be late."
Remus sighed. "Listen, Harry, I can see that you're angry about Sirius. But I really don't understand why."
"I am not angry. He is a grown up and he does not need to ask me for permission."
"But he asked you."
"No, he did not. He just told me he was going to marry … this woman."
The DADA teacher carefully shut the jar with wood-fairies he had brought into class and made a mental note to set them free tonight. They suffered in captivity and he had only needed them to illustrate his lecture.
"Harry, Sirius is your godfather. But he is also a person of his own right. He needs a life, a family."
"He said I was his family!" Harry's voice broke but he angrily wiped away the tears. He kicked the desk. "He makes promises and then he doesn't keep them. He promised he'd always be there for me. He promised my mom and dad he'd be their secret keeper. And then he …"
Remus was by his side in a flash and grabbed his bony shoulders. Giving the boy a hard shake, he demanded: "Is this what you think? That Sirius betrayed your parents and now he is betraying you?"
His face was pale with anger. "Did you tell him that?"
Harry stared back defiantly. "He said I was right."
"Of course he did, damn it! But just because he keeps blaming himself for it, doesn't mean he is guilty! Harry, he loved them. And he loves you."
"I don't care."
Remus took a deep breath and let go of the boy's sweater. "This is not true, and you know it! Sirius risked his life when he learned you were in danger."
"And I saved him when the Dementors came to get him. I guess that makes us even." Harry's lip trembled. "He only cares about me because he feels guilty about what happened to Mom and Dad."
"Harry …"
The boy looked straight over Lupin's head. „It doesn't really matter, does it. I got by with the Dursleys most of my life." He shrugged. "May I go now, Professor? Quidditch practice has already started."
Remus waved him out of the door, lost for words. Sitting down at his desk, he shook his head and sighed. "And to think I was jealous when they didn't make me the boy's godfather!"
* * *
Claire walked up the lawn in front of the castle. Sirius was teaching that afternoon and had arranged a meeting with Severus Snape for the early evening. She was nervous. Of course she needed all the information she could get, and apparently there was nobody in Hogwarts as familiar with Voldemort's organisation as the Potions master. That fact didn't calm her though and the mere sight of Hogwarts' high towers made her stomach rise.
Laurel awaited her at the great door and smiled at her cheerfully.
"Where are all the students?" Claire glanced at the empty hall.
Laurel smirked. "Quidditch," she said and made it sound like a nasty skin- disease. "A match is on and everybody but me and the Fat Lady have gone to see innocent kids smash each others head in." When she saw Claire's confused face, she laughed. "I just got into this world too late to become a fan, I guess. But both Sirius and Severus are down at the pitch, and we are just lucky that Hufflepuff is playing Ravenclaw today."
"Why?" asked Claire and felt incredibly stupid.
"Well, Severus tends to take it personally when his precious little Slytherins get beaten. And Sirius …" she grinned and shook her head at the memory, "Sirius once caught a Quaffle out of mid-air and threw it right through the other team's hoops."
"I thought that was the whole idea of Quidditch?"
"But he wasn't even playing. He sat at the stands!"
They both laughed and settled in front of the fire in the staff room. Laurel had hardly managed to get them tea and biscuits - with Claire, silently ashamed, pretending to watch her attempts with patience - when the door opened, and Snape entered.
He bowed his head to Claire and stood behind Laurel's chair.
She looked up at him. "How'd it go?"
He scowled. "Hufflepuffs. They are no fighters."
Claire blushed.
Snape frowned. "I am sorry. You are a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"
"I was, yes." She sat very straight. "And let me assure you, Professor, we do fight."
"I didn't mean …" He sat down next to Laurel and reconsidered. "No. I did mean it. There is no use in pretending that I agree with this foolish plan."
"Nobody asks you to agree with it." Sirius entered and his presence filled the room.
Snape glared at him. "Don't tell me you think it wise to send her," he pointed at Claire, "into hell itself!"
Laurel was about to come to Claire's help, when she saw the small woman rise and step so close to Severus that he had to look up to her.
"Stop patronising me." Her voice was very calm. "I don't care whether you like it or not, but I am the only one right now who can play that part. I may not know as much as you do, but that's why I am here right now. To learn from you, not to be treated like a stupid child."
She stepped back and sat down again, and only the slight tremble of her hands betrayed that she was close to tears and shocked about her own courage.
Sirius watched her facing the austere Potions master and felt a sudden tinge of pride about his wife. For the first time 'the plan' did not look so hopelessly. He knew from a dozen of tiny signs that she was scared of Snape, insecure in the presence of Laurel and frightened of Peeves who hovered over the fireplace and kept sticking his tongue out at her. And still she appeared calm as the lake - her insecurity hidden deep down like the giant squid. If she could act that well in the presence of Malfoy, they might be quite successful as the couple who wanted to buy their way into the Inner Circle.
Snape stared at her as if she had grown horns. Then he bowed his head and gave her a tiny smile. "Well spoken, Mrs White."
Laurel exhaled slowly and settled back into her chair, watching the man she loved explaining about the various Death Eaters the Whites were to encounter at Lucius Malfoy's house. Sirius and Claire listened attentively, only now and then asking about details.
"I suggest you use the event tomorrow to get comfortable in your pretend personality," Snape concluded.
Sirius scowled. "Get comfortable in it?"
"Consider it a robe you can wear or take off at will, Black. But while you are in it, you must not act. You must live it. The same goes for you, Claire. It is important to keep the two personalities apart. If you don't, you'll get lost."
Claire nodded, quite impressed by the intense way the Potions master explained the dangers and traps of being a spy. Her head spun.
"What role have you decided on for Black?" Snape asked her, and she instinctively picked at a hair strand.
"I am going to be the inbred idiot of pure blood and no brains," Sirius growled and dared Snape to laugh.
The Potions master smirked. "How very appropriate."
Black rose and towered over Severus for a moment, clenching his fists. Then he sat down all of a sudden and grinned at the other wizard, as if he enjoyed the joke.
Laurel watched in amazement how Claire had managed to calm her husband with one gaze and a slight bow of her head. She remembered very well how disturbing Black's moods and his vitriolic humour could be, and once more had to revise her opinion of Claire Winterstorm.
"You'll have to dress your part, Black," the Potions master continued with obvious pleasure. "And you, Claire, must not do that," he nodded at her hand that was entangled in her hair. "It betrays that you are nervous. Don't forget that you are Mrs White, of pure blood and a great fortune. Nobility. Soon to be Death Eater. You have no reason to be nervous." He sighed. "At least not tomorrow night."
"So this is more or less a social gathering?" asked Black.
Snape shrugged. "Depends how you define social. You remember Lucius, don't you?"
"Actually I do. Fucking pervert he was."
"What do you mean?" asked Laurel, and all three stared at her. They had obviously forgotten about her presence. Snape reached for her hand and pressed it apologising.
Black cleared his throat. "He liked to torture. Other students, animals, creatures. Whatever he could get. Dumbledore almost expelled him when he was a third year for cutting up a Wood Gnome. Got great pleasure out of it, watching the poor thing grow arms and legs to all the separate pieces."
"He has not changed much. He still enjoys pain, suffering it as well as inflicting it on others. Keep your wife away from him."
Claire gave him an angry stare.
He rose both hands. "No, I am not patronising. I mean it. Keep her away from Lucius, she is just his type. He likes them fair and cool."
"Narcissa," pondered Sirius. "I remember her as well."
"I bet you do." Snape's mouth twitched. "You won't see her though, she rarely attends Lucius' parties. Try to meet as many people as possible. Wait until they are drunk and let them talk. Listen. Don't do anything. Do you hear me, Claire?" He leaned towards her. His voice was very serious now. "Whatever happens there, do not interfere!"
"We agreed upon a set of inconspicuous signs," explained Sirius.
"Better perform the Confundus charm when things get rough," suggested Snape.
Claire blushed and avoided his suddenly intent gaze. "I …"
"You do know this charm, don't you, Claire?" Snape's silky voice made Laurel worry. What was he after? Had he noticed anything she had not seen?
Sirius reached for his teacup and by this move shielded Claire's face from Snape's stare. Hiding behind his broad shoulders Claire breathed in slowly. He knew! Snape knew she was a squib, couldn't do the Confundus charm, couldn't do any magic at all … Panic rose and strangled her.
Sirius filled his teacup very carefully to give Claire time to calm down. He took two lumps of sugar, milk, stirred, added another drop of milk and more sugar and eventually leaned back.
"Of course I know how to perform Confundus," Claire said and smiled. "I would be crazy to go to a Death Eaters party, if I had no command of simple spells like that, wouldn't I?"
Black made a sound in between a laugh and a groan. "The tea," he explained when he felt everybody's stare at him. "It is too hot." He rose. "Claire and I have to leave now."
"Thank you, Professor. It was very … enlightening." Claire smiled shyly at the Potions master.
Laurel hugged her and whispered into her ear. "Call him Severus, or all that 'Professor' will go to his head." She looked at Black. "Good luck, Sirius."
He bowed his head and laid a hand on Claire's back, stirring her out of the room.
When they had left, Severus sat down into his chair and drew Laurel in his lap. Hugging her, he stared at the table and the teacups.
"Something is wrong," he said softly. "Black lied. No, he was covering for her."
"How do you know?" Laurel wondered and brushed his temple with her lips.
"Four lumps of sugar and more milk than tea? Please! They lied, believe me."
* * *
As soon as they had left the castle Sirius let go of Claire. He wiped his forehead and groaned. "I always wanted to spend the evening with Severus," he growled. "Slytherins! You never know what they are up to."
Claire breathed in. "Thank you for not telling him."
It was almost dark now, and the night air was filled with scents and sounds she did not know. Suddenly she felt as if she could just spread her wings and fly - so great was her relief to have escaped the gaze of the Potions master who seemed to notice all her faults.
Sirius looked at her. She had her eyes closed and her arms spread, taking in the soft breeze and the cooing of owls who were on their way to the Forbidden Forrest to hunt their dinner.
"Let's go home," he suggested softly so he would not startle her.
Claire nodded. "I told Peagreen we'd be at home by seven. She'll worry."
Sirius frowned. "We'll be on time. It won't take more than five minutes to fly to Hogsmeade." Then he understood. "You walked, didn't you? You walked all the way from Hogsmeade to the castle!"
"Of course I walked." Claire shrugged indignantly.
"You walked through the Forbidden Forrest?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"It is not dangerous … by day," she said defensively, at the same time scolding herself for doing so. He had no right to tell her what to do or where to walk.
Obviously Sirius did not think so. "You will not walk through the Forrest again! I can show you a shortcut through one of the tunnels. Actually," he scratched his head, "it might be wise to inquire who owns the Shrieking Shack today."
"The old hunted house? I do." She smiled almost apologising. "I thought it was a good investment. After all it is not really hunted. Or is it?"
Sirius sighed. "I should have known. Well, you just bought your very own secret passage into Hogwarts. I'll show you how to use it. But you will not enter the Forrest again."
Claire crossed her arms and shook her head. "I shall go where I like, Sirius. I though we agreed on that."
"We agreed that you would not endanger your life. At least not as long as I am your bodyguard."
She sight exasperatedly. "Let's go home. I am really tired."
Sirius held her back. "You don't seriously mean to walk, do you? My broom can carry both of us." He pointed at the broomstick that leaned at a wall by the gate.
"Your … broom?"
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. "Claire," he asked softly. "You have ridden a broom before, haven't you?"
She stared at him out of shiny eyes. "I have. But it's been a while." She swallowed. "When I was little, my father sometimes took me for a ride around the house."
Sirius could have hit himself. Of course she had never ridden a broom alone, after all she was a squib and there was no way she could make a broom take off. To hide his shame about embarrassing her, he casually straddled the broomstick and tapped the handle in front of him. "Hop on!"
Claire's heart drummed in her ears when she carefully sat onto the broomstick, grabbing the handle with both hands, faint with excitement and fear.
"You don't need to be afraid," he said gently.
Claire held on to the handle and looked straight ahead when Sirius kicked off and the broom slowly rose off the ground. "I am not …" She shrieked when he suddenly started away almost vertically and went right for the West Tower. "Ok, fine, I admit it. I am afraid." She kept her eyes clenched shut. "Oh please, Sirius, I admit it, I am afraid. Go down!"
He laughed softly. Holding her safely with one arm to his chest, he slowed down and lowered the broom into a wide circle around the castle.
Claire took heart and opened her eyes. She gasped when she saw the lake and the treetops of the Forbidden Forrest glide by under them. "This is … beautiful!"
Slowly she relaxed and settled in his embrace. It felt … good. It felt right to sit so close to him. She could feel his warm breath tickle her ear. When she suddenly turned to point out a star at the horizon, his lips brushed her cheek and she froze.
Sirius winced. It had been a while since he had held a woman so close. Actually it had been a while since he had touched anybody at all. And still, there was no reason apparent why the mere scent of this woman's hair should arouse him the way it did.
He moved away from her as much as possible without letting go of her. It wouldn't do to let her fall off the broom just because he could not control the sudden urge to touch her, hold her so close she melded into him.
Claire felt him slide back. Confused about the pleasure the slight touch of his lips had given her, she looked straight ahead for the last part of the ride and hopped of the broom in relief as soon as they landed in front of the manor.
Kikki and Blossom carried the broom to the garage.
Sirius looked at the big house with its lightened windows and open doors. Suddenly he knew he could not bare walls around him just now, however welcoming they might be. The attacks were fewer since he had escaped from Azkaban where he had spent most of his days in a black pit, desperately trying to silence the pleading voices in his head. Now he often had a whole week without the coldness welling up in him. He shivered. There were only two ways to deal with the attacks - he could do what he done in Azkaban and slowly lose his mind. Or he could outrun the voices …
"I am not hungry," he said and stayed at the foot of the stairs. "I'd rather take a walk. Don't wait up for me."
Claire was surrounded by warm light from the hall when she looked down at him and he could not read her face. Her voice was cool and detached.
"Of course not."
She turned and entered the house, and Peagreen closed the door behind her.
* * *
The big black dog broke through the underwood, oblivious of the nettles and thorns that got caught in his fur. He ran so fast his muscles protested, his heart thundered, his breath burned in his lungs, and still he dared not to stop. He ran for hours, in a wide circle all around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, over the Muggle freeway, through a brook, and back to Winterstorm Manor. His paws were raw and bleeding, his throat dry, but his mind was calm now. Somewhere on the run he had left the voices behind. But come time they would catch up.
He transformed and gingerly walked up the stairs to the entrance, his shoes in hand.
Peagreen opened the door yawning.
"It is you, Miss Claire's Sirius," she enthused. "Me was worried." She looked at his naked feet in horror. "You is all cut and bleeding. Better tell Miss Claire. She will make it good again."
Sirius shook his head. "It is nothing, Peagreen. Let's keep it our secret, OK?"
"Miss Claire's Sirius is giving Peagreen a secret?" The elf hopped up and down excitedly. "Our secret! Peagreen is very good with secrets, she is!"
Sirius smiled at her exhaustedly. Carefully he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He needed some sleep or he'd be useless tomorrow evening.
He never knew that Claire lay awake in her bed until she heard the soft steps at the stairs.
* * *
On the morning of the great day, Claire could barely hide her nervousness. She spilled her morning tea all over the table and her business mail. She even broke the semi-magical quill she used to pen replies.
Eventually Sirius held a hand out to her. "Let's go for a walk."
He used the opportunity to show her the entrance to the secret tunnel in the Shrieking Shack and saw with contentment how she forgot about the evening for a while.
When they came back, they entered the house by the backdoor and passed the kitchen where the elves were busy preparing lunch. Off the corridor a door stood open. In the small room Sirius saw more than a dozen trunks, each with brass corners and small name-shields. He hunched on his heels to read what the plates said. "Peagreen. Coco. Kikki."
"They belong to the elves," said Claire.
"I never heard of elves who keep private property." He stood up and saw her smile. The door was open and two of the elves passed by, both carefully avoiding to look into the room.
"They don't seem all too interested."
"Oh but they are. They just think the trunks are a scandal. Not proper, you know. They still hope that they'll go away if they keep ignoring them."
"I don't understand." He frowned. "What is in the trunks?"
She went to the first one and opened the lid. Sirius saw a pair of socks, small pants and a shirt, all elf-sized and obviously custom made. Next to the tiny garments lay a small pile of silver coins.
He raised his brows. "You pay your elves?"
"I pay whoever works for me. The salespeople in my stores. The printers, manufactures, lawyers. Why shouldn't I pay my elves?"
"But I thought …" he tried to remember what his mother had told him about House-elves, "they don't want to be paid."
Claire carefully closed the lid and gave him a sheepish grin. "They hate it."
"Do they ever open their trunks and check what is in them?"
"Of course they don't. They do their best to ignore this room and pretend it is all empty."
"Then why …"
Claire looked up at him, and a shadow of sadness fell over her face. "I want them to be free."
"But obviously they like it very much in your household. They love you, Claire."
"But if they ever want to leave, they can."
She turned and walked out of the room.
Sirius followed her. They had only been married for a week by now but his wife puzzled him more and more. Nobody had noticed his fit of panic at the registry office but her. And she had never mentioned it to him, but had given him the largest bedroom in the house, an airy light room with many windows. She seemed to be incredibly attentive of people. But then she had not met anybody for so many years. Everything had to be new and remarkable. He could only hope this ability would prove useful this evening at Malfoy's.
Claire called him from the salon.
"Sirius? You should try the clothes Serene chose for you. If they don't fit, Coco can alter them if you want."
"Serene picked my clothes?" His face showed a mixture of despair and disgust.
"She is very creative."
"Oh I bet she is."
"You don't like her very much," Claire asked casually while she went to get the big bundle of clothes she had bought at Serene's advice at Gladrags.
"She holds my best friend's heart in her hands and stabs a knife into it once in a while. No, I don't like her at all."
"Funny, I had the impression she loved Remus."
"Did she tell you that?"
Claire thought about it. "No. But I saw her looking at him when she thinks he doesn't notice it."
"Serene knows very well how he feels about her. She plays her little games with him, like a cat tortures a mouse." His voice was thick with contempt.
"Remus means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
He only nodded. Claire watched worriedly how his blue eyes darkened until they appeared black. It was as if he withdrew into a dimension out of her reach. But when she opened the bundle, his sadness evaporated at once. His eyes widened in shock.
"Serene picked this? The witch is spite incarnate!"
Claire suppressed a nervous giggle. The dress robes had looked quite pink in the wizards' department at Gladrags. Now, in the bright afternoon light, they were … well, painfully pink.
"I shall not wear this!" Sirius picked up a snakeskin boot with two fingers and held it up as if it was something dead and particularly nasty. "And this!" he pointed accusingly at a broad belt, encrusted with rhinestone.
"Serene said, if you were a inbred pureblood you'd wear clothes like these." Claire held up a high pointed hat with a velvety purple brim.
Sirius exhaled loudly and sat down, his face buried in his palms. His shoulders trembled. A sound, close to a sob, escaped from behind his hands.
Claire stood by the table, the dress robes clutched to her breast. Would the insecurity ever fade? Would she ever be able to look at him and tell how he felt? She had not meant to insult him, but if the plan was to work, he had to play his part and look it.
"Sirius?" she ventured. "Are you alright?"
"Oh Merlin!" He fell off the chair. Holding his sides, he lay on the floor, helplessly laughing. Claire watched him in awe, and for a second she was sure that Serene had been right and Sirius was indeed mad.
"Sorry," he gasped.
Claire smiled shakily. "You are not angry?"
"Angry?" That started another bout of mirth. "No, I am not angry." He wiped his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."
"Yes?"
"No pictures. If Moony ever sees me like this, I'll never hear the end of it!"
She nodded sincerely.
* * *
While Coco braided her hair and fussed with the Winterstorm diamonds, Claire closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She had never been so afraid. No, she corrected herself and remembered the day when she had tried to run away from home. She had turned thirteen and while everybody else would return to Hogwarts this first September week, her father had told her that she was to stay at home. Not just for now, but for as long as they could not find a remedy to her condition. A remedy! She laughed bitterly and winced when Coco accidentally pricked her with a hair pin.
"Miss Claire, you is not to move when I is braiding you!" the elf cried and her huge eyes met Claire's pale face in the mirror. "Oh Miss, you is thinking about Ygor again, is you!"
Claire had not told the elves about the meeting, and was glad to be able to blame all her nervousness and fear on the grief for Ygor.
"Ygor he was a proud troll," Coco tried to comfort her. "He always says to me, Coco he says, I die gladly to save Missy Claire."
"But if I had not run away, he would still be alive."
"Miss Claire, the Muggle world is dangerous, but you is a child then. How is you to know?"
A Muggle car had run over Ygor that night on a street in the next Muggle village. They had not even made it to London. Claire sighed and closed her eyes again. Even then she had been too romantic, had read too many books about girls who ran away and fought and built their own life.
"You is beautiful, Miss Claire!" Coco enthused.
"Thank you, munchkin," smiled Claire without looking into the mirror. She knew very well how she looked. But the admiration of the elf was uplifting. She had never desired to be beautiful. She had always wanted to be free. Only lately she sat in front of the mirror sometimes, stared at her face and wished she had a bit of Serene's beauty.
Stupid woman, she scolded herself. This marriage had been her idea, and living with Sirius had turned out surprisingly pleasant. And she really did not feel … anything for him.
She walked down the stairs and stopped dead, when she saw her husband. Clasping a hand to her mouth, she desperately tried to regain her composure. The fire in his eyes dared her to say something, just one word about his attire. She bit her tongue, but when Coco clapped her tiny hands in approval and acclaimed "Oh, you is pretty too, Miss Claire's Sirius!" she could not control the laughter anymore. Giggling helplessly, she had to sit down on the stairs.
Sirius stood in the hall, magnificently decked out in pink robes, velvet hat and sparkling belt. He watched her laughing, arms akimbo, and waited patiently until she could breathe again. Then he held out a hand to help her stand up.
He took in the slender grey robes she wore, the diamonds that glittered at her neck and ears, and the crown of pale hair. Cool and elegant, he thought. Sometimes - like just now, when she had giggled - she seemed to be human. But most of the time she was just so fucking perfect, so detached. She managed this crazy household single-handed in spite of her handicap. Not to mention the Winterstorm Bookstores, Winterstorm Owlery Supply Stores and whatever bore the Winterstorm crest and made money.
"You look very lovely," he said softly and meant it.
Claire's eyes met his and for a heartbeat it was as if he could look right into her soul. The naked fear he saw took him by surprise. The hand he held trembled and he could feel her pulse race.
"You need not be afraid."
She tensed and withdrew her hand. "I am not …" Sighing she gave up. "You are right. I am so afraid I almost threw up half an hour ago."
"Voldemort won't be there tonight. Think of it as a social gathering. A party. Just a bunch of people talking and drinking."
"Right. Keep going and I'll surely throw up," she winced. "I have never been to a party!"
* * *
Sirius sat at breakfast and looked over the table at his … wife. Claire. The Hufflepuff Princess. Dumbledore's newest spy. They were married for three days now and he still had problems to thinks of her as his wife. But she was, by decree of the mayor and her next of kin.
Valerius Winterstorm, a scrawny old wizard with a neck like a vulture, had dismissed Sirius' reputation as a mass-murderer with an impatient snort, as soon as Dumbledore had assured him that no Muggle had diluted the Blacks' bloodline in the last five generations.
"Riddle is a bastard, damn Mudblood he is," he muttered and wrote Sirius' name into the family tree on a huge roll of parchment.
The goblin from Gringott's had not even looked at him, so eager had he been to have Claire's signature under the papers he had brought. "Very honoured to deal with you, Mrs White," the clerk bowed his way out of Claire's salon. "Your instinct where money is concerned is almost that of a goblin's." - a praise that brought tears of suppressed laughter into Claire's eyes - and relieved Sirius somewhat. After all he had never seen his … wife laugh until then.
Now she looked up from the pile of letters and papers she kept beside her plate.
"What?"
He shrugged. „How are you going to spend your day?"
"I'll go through the books, answer some letters. Same as every day, really."
Sirius picked up the 'Daily Prophet' and congratulated himself not to see his own face stare at him off the front-page as it had so often two years ago. They had picked the worst picture then of course. Sometimes even he had been scared when he saw it scowl off a news-stand he passed as a black dog.
"By the way, we got an invitation, by Lucius Malfoy."
He put the paper down. "Malfoy?"
"He suggest to get to know each other before he introduces us to his … master." Claire took a sip of tea. "I accepted on our part."
"You what?"
"I accepted. This is why we married, isn't it? To gain admission to the Inner Circle. And Malfoy is one of them."
"You could have asked me at least." Sirius frowned. His blue eyes darkened until they matched his hair.
"But why?" She stared at him defiantly.
He was lost for words. "It involves both of us. I need to know."
"It is my plan. We agreed you'd go with it."
"As long as it is not stupid and dangerous."
"If you are afraid, I'll go alone!"
"No, you won't."
"Just watch me!"
She pushed back her chair and ran from the room.
Sirius gritted his teeth and threw the 'Daily Prophet' where it belonged - into the waste basket. He gave her ten minutes to calm down - ten minutes he needed dearly to calm down himself. Then he went up the stairs, only to find an elf with bulging eyes standing guard in front of Claire's door. The little creature's ears hung down in distress but her fists were clenched, and even though Sirius could have smashed her with one hit of his fist, the elf looked as if she was determined to stand her ground.
"Get out of my way, little one," he growled.
"No," squeaked the elf, her voice higher than ever. "Miss Claire's Sirius, you is not to yell at the Miss! You is to be her husband, to be nice."
Sirius winced inwardly. They had given him that ridiculous name when Claire had introduced him to her household after the wedding. And they had sickeningly romantic ideas about married live.
„Open the damned door, Claire." He kept his voice down, just loud enough to let her know that he would enter her bedroom if she didn't come out immediately.
The elf jibed: "You does not yell at Miss Claire!"
Sirius grabbed her at the neck of the towel-dress and lifted her up to sit her down a few steps away from the door, but the elf kept kicking his shin and wriggling like a rabbit, and when the door flew open, he still had the wailing creature in his hand.
Claire stared at him, saw the broad shoulders, the tall frame, the anger in his eyes and felt her face pale. Sirius set the elf down and looked at his hands as if he had never noticed how big they were.
Claire hunched down to stroke the elf's head. "Are you Ok, Lilly?"
"I is kicking him! I is kicking him!" Lilly jumped with excitement."
Sirius promptly rubbed his shin which made the elf beam with pride.
"Thank you, Lilly," Claire said. "Leave us alone now. He is not angry anymore." Looking up at Sirius who towered over her, she swallowed doubtfully.
"Don't run out on me ever again, Claire." Sirius' voice was low and threatening. "I don't like the idea of being the accused without the chance to defend myself or explain. And don't ever lock your door on me." Only then he noticed that there was no lock under the doorknob. There was no lock under his doorknob either. In the whole manor no door would ever be locked again.
„I didn't run out on you! You have no idea how it is to be alone all the time," Claire spit. "To have nobody to talk to but parents who treat you like a child, and elves who treat you like ... well, like elves treat everybody. No, I have no idea how to discuss something. I never had to!"
Sirius leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Whether you believe it or not, I know how it is to have nobody to talk to."
Claire suppressed a sob. Azkaban. He had spent twelve years in a cell in a fortress in the North Sea, while she had pitied herself in her cosy bedroom. Embarrassed about the accusations she had hurled at him, she sought the right words and found nothing but:
"Sorry."
He bowed his head. "So am I."
She cleared her throat. "I just never had to answer anybody. My parents of course, but they were old, and content as long as I didn't leave the house."
"Claire, we have to find a way to go through this together," he sighed. "And I haven't been a team-player lately myself. But please, don't accept invitations without asking me, OK?"
"But it is my plan!"
She had to say it. It sounded stupid and childish but she just had to say it.
Sirius stared at her. So small and fragile, and yet so stubborn. Just why did nobody listen to his reasonable arguments anymore? She even stuck her chin out just like Harry had done ... He suddenly noticed that she wore nothing but a towel. Her hair dripped, still wet from the shower. His throat got dry. He'd go into his bedroom, open all the windows and damn the day when he agreed to marry Claire Winterstorm.
"It is your plan." His voice was low and almost a caress. "But I'd like very much to be still alive when we are through with it."
* * *
„Mr Potter, a word please."
Professor Lupin dismissed the class and looked at Harry expectantly.
"Got yourself in trouble again, Potter?" Draco Malfoy grinned at him before his ran out.
Hermione and Ron hovered at the door, uncertain if they should wait and what Harry had done this time.
"What's wrong lately?" Hermione asked softly. She had spent too much time with her essay on a problem in Arithmancy to pay too much attention to Harry's strange behaviour. But even she had noticed how Harry had not said a word through Professor White's class. Usually he looked forward to Transfiguration for Animagi all week. But this time he had avoided White's gaze, and had not even answered direct questions.
"He is not in trouble," smiled Lupin. "But I need to talk to him nonetheless."
The Gryffindors left, not without a last gaze at Harry, who gave them a noncommittal shrug.
Remus looked at the boy, who stood by his desk, his hand clamped around his book-bag.
"Why don't you sit down, Harry, while we talk?"
"I'd rather stand. Quidditch training starts in five minutes and I don't want to be late."
Remus sighed. "Listen, Harry, I can see that you're angry about Sirius. But I really don't understand why."
"I am not angry. He is a grown up and he does not need to ask me for permission."
"But he asked you."
"No, he did not. He just told me he was going to marry … this woman."
The DADA teacher carefully shut the jar with wood-fairies he had brought into class and made a mental note to set them free tonight. They suffered in captivity and he had only needed them to illustrate his lecture.
"Harry, Sirius is your godfather. But he is also a person of his own right. He needs a life, a family."
"He said I was his family!" Harry's voice broke but he angrily wiped away the tears. He kicked the desk. "He makes promises and then he doesn't keep them. He promised he'd always be there for me. He promised my mom and dad he'd be their secret keeper. And then he …"
Remus was by his side in a flash and grabbed his bony shoulders. Giving the boy a hard shake, he demanded: "Is this what you think? That Sirius betrayed your parents and now he is betraying you?"
His face was pale with anger. "Did you tell him that?"
Harry stared back defiantly. "He said I was right."
"Of course he did, damn it! But just because he keeps blaming himself for it, doesn't mean he is guilty! Harry, he loved them. And he loves you."
"I don't care."
Remus took a deep breath and let go of the boy's sweater. "This is not true, and you know it! Sirius risked his life when he learned you were in danger."
"And I saved him when the Dementors came to get him. I guess that makes us even." Harry's lip trembled. "He only cares about me because he feels guilty about what happened to Mom and Dad."
"Harry …"
The boy looked straight over Lupin's head. „It doesn't really matter, does it. I got by with the Dursleys most of my life." He shrugged. "May I go now, Professor? Quidditch practice has already started."
Remus waved him out of the door, lost for words. Sitting down at his desk, he shook his head and sighed. "And to think I was jealous when they didn't make me the boy's godfather!"
* * *
Claire walked up the lawn in front of the castle. Sirius was teaching that afternoon and had arranged a meeting with Severus Snape for the early evening. She was nervous. Of course she needed all the information she could get, and apparently there was nobody in Hogwarts as familiar with Voldemort's organisation as the Potions master. That fact didn't calm her though and the mere sight of Hogwarts' high towers made her stomach rise.
Laurel awaited her at the great door and smiled at her cheerfully.
"Where are all the students?" Claire glanced at the empty hall.
Laurel smirked. "Quidditch," she said and made it sound like a nasty skin- disease. "A match is on and everybody but me and the Fat Lady have gone to see innocent kids smash each others head in." When she saw Claire's confused face, she laughed. "I just got into this world too late to become a fan, I guess. But both Sirius and Severus are down at the pitch, and we are just lucky that Hufflepuff is playing Ravenclaw today."
"Why?" asked Claire and felt incredibly stupid.
"Well, Severus tends to take it personally when his precious little Slytherins get beaten. And Sirius …" she grinned and shook her head at the memory, "Sirius once caught a Quaffle out of mid-air and threw it right through the other team's hoops."
"I thought that was the whole idea of Quidditch?"
"But he wasn't even playing. He sat at the stands!"
They both laughed and settled in front of the fire in the staff room. Laurel had hardly managed to get them tea and biscuits - with Claire, silently ashamed, pretending to watch her attempts with patience - when the door opened, and Snape entered.
He bowed his head to Claire and stood behind Laurel's chair.
She looked up at him. "How'd it go?"
He scowled. "Hufflepuffs. They are no fighters."
Claire blushed.
Snape frowned. "I am sorry. You are a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"
"I was, yes." She sat very straight. "And let me assure you, Professor, we do fight."
"I didn't mean …" He sat down next to Laurel and reconsidered. "No. I did mean it. There is no use in pretending that I agree with this foolish plan."
"Nobody asks you to agree with it." Sirius entered and his presence filled the room.
Snape glared at him. "Don't tell me you think it wise to send her," he pointed at Claire, "into hell itself!"
Laurel was about to come to Claire's help, when she saw the small woman rise and step so close to Severus that he had to look up to her.
"Stop patronising me." Her voice was very calm. "I don't care whether you like it or not, but I am the only one right now who can play that part. I may not know as much as you do, but that's why I am here right now. To learn from you, not to be treated like a stupid child."
She stepped back and sat down again, and only the slight tremble of her hands betrayed that she was close to tears and shocked about her own courage.
Sirius watched her facing the austere Potions master and felt a sudden tinge of pride about his wife. For the first time 'the plan' did not look so hopelessly. He knew from a dozen of tiny signs that she was scared of Snape, insecure in the presence of Laurel and frightened of Peeves who hovered over the fireplace and kept sticking his tongue out at her. And still she appeared calm as the lake - her insecurity hidden deep down like the giant squid. If she could act that well in the presence of Malfoy, they might be quite successful as the couple who wanted to buy their way into the Inner Circle.
Snape stared at her as if she had grown horns. Then he bowed his head and gave her a tiny smile. "Well spoken, Mrs White."
Laurel exhaled slowly and settled back into her chair, watching the man she loved explaining about the various Death Eaters the Whites were to encounter at Lucius Malfoy's house. Sirius and Claire listened attentively, only now and then asking about details.
"I suggest you use the event tomorrow to get comfortable in your pretend personality," Snape concluded.
Sirius scowled. "Get comfortable in it?"
"Consider it a robe you can wear or take off at will, Black. But while you are in it, you must not act. You must live it. The same goes for you, Claire. It is important to keep the two personalities apart. If you don't, you'll get lost."
Claire nodded, quite impressed by the intense way the Potions master explained the dangers and traps of being a spy. Her head spun.
"What role have you decided on for Black?" Snape asked her, and she instinctively picked at a hair strand.
"I am going to be the inbred idiot of pure blood and no brains," Sirius growled and dared Snape to laugh.
The Potions master smirked. "How very appropriate."
Black rose and towered over Severus for a moment, clenching his fists. Then he sat down all of a sudden and grinned at the other wizard, as if he enjoyed the joke.
Laurel watched in amazement how Claire had managed to calm her husband with one gaze and a slight bow of her head. She remembered very well how disturbing Black's moods and his vitriolic humour could be, and once more had to revise her opinion of Claire Winterstorm.
"You'll have to dress your part, Black," the Potions master continued with obvious pleasure. "And you, Claire, must not do that," he nodded at her hand that was entangled in her hair. "It betrays that you are nervous. Don't forget that you are Mrs White, of pure blood and a great fortune. Nobility. Soon to be Death Eater. You have no reason to be nervous." He sighed. "At least not tomorrow night."
"So this is more or less a social gathering?" asked Black.
Snape shrugged. "Depends how you define social. You remember Lucius, don't you?"
"Actually I do. Fucking pervert he was."
"What do you mean?" asked Laurel, and all three stared at her. They had obviously forgotten about her presence. Snape reached for her hand and pressed it apologising.
Black cleared his throat. "He liked to torture. Other students, animals, creatures. Whatever he could get. Dumbledore almost expelled him when he was a third year for cutting up a Wood Gnome. Got great pleasure out of it, watching the poor thing grow arms and legs to all the separate pieces."
"He has not changed much. He still enjoys pain, suffering it as well as inflicting it on others. Keep your wife away from him."
Claire gave him an angry stare.
He rose both hands. "No, I am not patronising. I mean it. Keep her away from Lucius, she is just his type. He likes them fair and cool."
"Narcissa," pondered Sirius. "I remember her as well."
"I bet you do." Snape's mouth twitched. "You won't see her though, she rarely attends Lucius' parties. Try to meet as many people as possible. Wait until they are drunk and let them talk. Listen. Don't do anything. Do you hear me, Claire?" He leaned towards her. His voice was very serious now. "Whatever happens there, do not interfere!"
"We agreed upon a set of inconspicuous signs," explained Sirius.
"Better perform the Confundus charm when things get rough," suggested Snape.
Claire blushed and avoided his suddenly intent gaze. "I …"
"You do know this charm, don't you, Claire?" Snape's silky voice made Laurel worry. What was he after? Had he noticed anything she had not seen?
Sirius reached for his teacup and by this move shielded Claire's face from Snape's stare. Hiding behind his broad shoulders Claire breathed in slowly. He knew! Snape knew she was a squib, couldn't do the Confundus charm, couldn't do any magic at all … Panic rose and strangled her.
Sirius filled his teacup very carefully to give Claire time to calm down. He took two lumps of sugar, milk, stirred, added another drop of milk and more sugar and eventually leaned back.
"Of course I know how to perform Confundus," Claire said and smiled. "I would be crazy to go to a Death Eaters party, if I had no command of simple spells like that, wouldn't I?"
Black made a sound in between a laugh and a groan. "The tea," he explained when he felt everybody's stare at him. "It is too hot." He rose. "Claire and I have to leave now."
"Thank you, Professor. It was very … enlightening." Claire smiled shyly at the Potions master.
Laurel hugged her and whispered into her ear. "Call him Severus, or all that 'Professor' will go to his head." She looked at Black. "Good luck, Sirius."
He bowed his head and laid a hand on Claire's back, stirring her out of the room.
When they had left, Severus sat down into his chair and drew Laurel in his lap. Hugging her, he stared at the table and the teacups.
"Something is wrong," he said softly. "Black lied. No, he was covering for her."
"How do you know?" Laurel wondered and brushed his temple with her lips.
"Four lumps of sugar and more milk than tea? Please! They lied, believe me."
* * *
As soon as they had left the castle Sirius let go of Claire. He wiped his forehead and groaned. "I always wanted to spend the evening with Severus," he growled. "Slytherins! You never know what they are up to."
Claire breathed in. "Thank you for not telling him."
It was almost dark now, and the night air was filled with scents and sounds she did not know. Suddenly she felt as if she could just spread her wings and fly - so great was her relief to have escaped the gaze of the Potions master who seemed to notice all her faults.
Sirius looked at her. She had her eyes closed and her arms spread, taking in the soft breeze and the cooing of owls who were on their way to the Forbidden Forrest to hunt their dinner.
"Let's go home," he suggested softly so he would not startle her.
Claire nodded. "I told Peagreen we'd be at home by seven. She'll worry."
Sirius frowned. "We'll be on time. It won't take more than five minutes to fly to Hogsmeade." Then he understood. "You walked, didn't you? You walked all the way from Hogsmeade to the castle!"
"Of course I walked." Claire shrugged indignantly.
"You walked through the Forbidden Forrest?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"It is not dangerous … by day," she said defensively, at the same time scolding herself for doing so. He had no right to tell her what to do or where to walk.
Obviously Sirius did not think so. "You will not walk through the Forrest again! I can show you a shortcut through one of the tunnels. Actually," he scratched his head, "it might be wise to inquire who owns the Shrieking Shack today."
"The old hunted house? I do." She smiled almost apologising. "I thought it was a good investment. After all it is not really hunted. Or is it?"
Sirius sighed. "I should have known. Well, you just bought your very own secret passage into Hogwarts. I'll show you how to use it. But you will not enter the Forrest again."
Claire crossed her arms and shook her head. "I shall go where I like, Sirius. I though we agreed on that."
"We agreed that you would not endanger your life. At least not as long as I am your bodyguard."
She sight exasperatedly. "Let's go home. I am really tired."
Sirius held her back. "You don't seriously mean to walk, do you? My broom can carry both of us." He pointed at the broomstick that leaned at a wall by the gate.
"Your … broom?"
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. "Claire," he asked softly. "You have ridden a broom before, haven't you?"
She stared at him out of shiny eyes. "I have. But it's been a while." She swallowed. "When I was little, my father sometimes took me for a ride around the house."
Sirius could have hit himself. Of course she had never ridden a broom alone, after all she was a squib and there was no way she could make a broom take off. To hide his shame about embarrassing her, he casually straddled the broomstick and tapped the handle in front of him. "Hop on!"
Claire's heart drummed in her ears when she carefully sat onto the broomstick, grabbing the handle with both hands, faint with excitement and fear.
"You don't need to be afraid," he said gently.
Claire held on to the handle and looked straight ahead when Sirius kicked off and the broom slowly rose off the ground. "I am not …" She shrieked when he suddenly started away almost vertically and went right for the West Tower. "Ok, fine, I admit it. I am afraid." She kept her eyes clenched shut. "Oh please, Sirius, I admit it, I am afraid. Go down!"
He laughed softly. Holding her safely with one arm to his chest, he slowed down and lowered the broom into a wide circle around the castle.
Claire took heart and opened her eyes. She gasped when she saw the lake and the treetops of the Forbidden Forrest glide by under them. "This is … beautiful!"
Slowly she relaxed and settled in his embrace. It felt … good. It felt right to sit so close to him. She could feel his warm breath tickle her ear. When she suddenly turned to point out a star at the horizon, his lips brushed her cheek and she froze.
Sirius winced. It had been a while since he had held a woman so close. Actually it had been a while since he had touched anybody at all. And still, there was no reason apparent why the mere scent of this woman's hair should arouse him the way it did.
He moved away from her as much as possible without letting go of her. It wouldn't do to let her fall off the broom just because he could not control the sudden urge to touch her, hold her so close she melded into him.
Claire felt him slide back. Confused about the pleasure the slight touch of his lips had given her, she looked straight ahead for the last part of the ride and hopped of the broom in relief as soon as they landed in front of the manor.
Kikki and Blossom carried the broom to the garage.
Sirius looked at the big house with its lightened windows and open doors. Suddenly he knew he could not bare walls around him just now, however welcoming they might be. The attacks were fewer since he had escaped from Azkaban where he had spent most of his days in a black pit, desperately trying to silence the pleading voices in his head. Now he often had a whole week without the coldness welling up in him. He shivered. There were only two ways to deal with the attacks - he could do what he done in Azkaban and slowly lose his mind. Or he could outrun the voices …
"I am not hungry," he said and stayed at the foot of the stairs. "I'd rather take a walk. Don't wait up for me."
Claire was surrounded by warm light from the hall when she looked down at him and he could not read her face. Her voice was cool and detached.
"Of course not."
She turned and entered the house, and Peagreen closed the door behind her.
* * *
The big black dog broke through the underwood, oblivious of the nettles and thorns that got caught in his fur. He ran so fast his muscles protested, his heart thundered, his breath burned in his lungs, and still he dared not to stop. He ran for hours, in a wide circle all around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, over the Muggle freeway, through a brook, and back to Winterstorm Manor. His paws were raw and bleeding, his throat dry, but his mind was calm now. Somewhere on the run he had left the voices behind. But come time they would catch up.
He transformed and gingerly walked up the stairs to the entrance, his shoes in hand.
Peagreen opened the door yawning.
"It is you, Miss Claire's Sirius," she enthused. "Me was worried." She looked at his naked feet in horror. "You is all cut and bleeding. Better tell Miss Claire. She will make it good again."
Sirius shook his head. "It is nothing, Peagreen. Let's keep it our secret, OK?"
"Miss Claire's Sirius is giving Peagreen a secret?" The elf hopped up and down excitedly. "Our secret! Peagreen is very good with secrets, she is!"
Sirius smiled at her exhaustedly. Carefully he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He needed some sleep or he'd be useless tomorrow evening.
He never knew that Claire lay awake in her bed until she heard the soft steps at the stairs.
* * *
On the morning of the great day, Claire could barely hide her nervousness. She spilled her morning tea all over the table and her business mail. She even broke the semi-magical quill she used to pen replies.
Eventually Sirius held a hand out to her. "Let's go for a walk."
He used the opportunity to show her the entrance to the secret tunnel in the Shrieking Shack and saw with contentment how she forgot about the evening for a while.
When they came back, they entered the house by the backdoor and passed the kitchen where the elves were busy preparing lunch. Off the corridor a door stood open. In the small room Sirius saw more than a dozen trunks, each with brass corners and small name-shields. He hunched on his heels to read what the plates said. "Peagreen. Coco. Kikki."
"They belong to the elves," said Claire.
"I never heard of elves who keep private property." He stood up and saw her smile. The door was open and two of the elves passed by, both carefully avoiding to look into the room.
"They don't seem all too interested."
"Oh but they are. They just think the trunks are a scandal. Not proper, you know. They still hope that they'll go away if they keep ignoring them."
"I don't understand." He frowned. "What is in the trunks?"
She went to the first one and opened the lid. Sirius saw a pair of socks, small pants and a shirt, all elf-sized and obviously custom made. Next to the tiny garments lay a small pile of silver coins.
He raised his brows. "You pay your elves?"
"I pay whoever works for me. The salespeople in my stores. The printers, manufactures, lawyers. Why shouldn't I pay my elves?"
"But I thought …" he tried to remember what his mother had told him about House-elves, "they don't want to be paid."
Claire carefully closed the lid and gave him a sheepish grin. "They hate it."
"Do they ever open their trunks and check what is in them?"
"Of course they don't. They do their best to ignore this room and pretend it is all empty."
"Then why …"
Claire looked up at him, and a shadow of sadness fell over her face. "I want them to be free."
"But obviously they like it very much in your household. They love you, Claire."
"But if they ever want to leave, they can."
She turned and walked out of the room.
Sirius followed her. They had only been married for a week by now but his wife puzzled him more and more. Nobody had noticed his fit of panic at the registry office but her. And she had never mentioned it to him, but had given him the largest bedroom in the house, an airy light room with many windows. She seemed to be incredibly attentive of people. But then she had not met anybody for so many years. Everything had to be new and remarkable. He could only hope this ability would prove useful this evening at Malfoy's.
Claire called him from the salon.
"Sirius? You should try the clothes Serene chose for you. If they don't fit, Coco can alter them if you want."
"Serene picked my clothes?" His face showed a mixture of despair and disgust.
"She is very creative."
"Oh I bet she is."
"You don't like her very much," Claire asked casually while she went to get the big bundle of clothes she had bought at Serene's advice at Gladrags.
"She holds my best friend's heart in her hands and stabs a knife into it once in a while. No, I don't like her at all."
"Funny, I had the impression she loved Remus."
"Did she tell you that?"
Claire thought about it. "No. But I saw her looking at him when she thinks he doesn't notice it."
"Serene knows very well how he feels about her. She plays her little games with him, like a cat tortures a mouse." His voice was thick with contempt.
"Remus means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
He only nodded. Claire watched worriedly how his blue eyes darkened until they appeared black. It was as if he withdrew into a dimension out of her reach. But when she opened the bundle, his sadness evaporated at once. His eyes widened in shock.
"Serene picked this? The witch is spite incarnate!"
Claire suppressed a nervous giggle. The dress robes had looked quite pink in the wizards' department at Gladrags. Now, in the bright afternoon light, they were … well, painfully pink.
"I shall not wear this!" Sirius picked up a snakeskin boot with two fingers and held it up as if it was something dead and particularly nasty. "And this!" he pointed accusingly at a broad belt, encrusted with rhinestone.
"Serene said, if you were a inbred pureblood you'd wear clothes like these." Claire held up a high pointed hat with a velvety purple brim.
Sirius exhaled loudly and sat down, his face buried in his palms. His shoulders trembled. A sound, close to a sob, escaped from behind his hands.
Claire stood by the table, the dress robes clutched to her breast. Would the insecurity ever fade? Would she ever be able to look at him and tell how he felt? She had not meant to insult him, but if the plan was to work, he had to play his part and look it.
"Sirius?" she ventured. "Are you alright?"
"Oh Merlin!" He fell off the chair. Holding his sides, he lay on the floor, helplessly laughing. Claire watched him in awe, and for a second she was sure that Serene had been right and Sirius was indeed mad.
"Sorry," he gasped.
Claire smiled shakily. "You are not angry?"
"Angry?" That started another bout of mirth. "No, I am not angry." He wiped his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."
"Yes?"
"No pictures. If Moony ever sees me like this, I'll never hear the end of it!"
She nodded sincerely.
* * *
While Coco braided her hair and fussed with the Winterstorm diamonds, Claire closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She had never been so afraid. No, she corrected herself and remembered the day when she had tried to run away from home. She had turned thirteen and while everybody else would return to Hogwarts this first September week, her father had told her that she was to stay at home. Not just for now, but for as long as they could not find a remedy to her condition. A remedy! She laughed bitterly and winced when Coco accidentally pricked her with a hair pin.
"Miss Claire, you is not to move when I is braiding you!" the elf cried and her huge eyes met Claire's pale face in the mirror. "Oh Miss, you is thinking about Ygor again, is you!"
Claire had not told the elves about the meeting, and was glad to be able to blame all her nervousness and fear on the grief for Ygor.
"Ygor he was a proud troll," Coco tried to comfort her. "He always says to me, Coco he says, I die gladly to save Missy Claire."
"But if I had not run away, he would still be alive."
"Miss Claire, the Muggle world is dangerous, but you is a child then. How is you to know?"
A Muggle car had run over Ygor that night on a street in the next Muggle village. They had not even made it to London. Claire sighed and closed her eyes again. Even then she had been too romantic, had read too many books about girls who ran away and fought and built their own life.
"You is beautiful, Miss Claire!" Coco enthused.
"Thank you, munchkin," smiled Claire without looking into the mirror. She knew very well how she looked. But the admiration of the elf was uplifting. She had never desired to be beautiful. She had always wanted to be free. Only lately she sat in front of the mirror sometimes, stared at her face and wished she had a bit of Serene's beauty.
Stupid woman, she scolded herself. This marriage had been her idea, and living with Sirius had turned out surprisingly pleasant. And she really did not feel … anything for him.
She walked down the stairs and stopped dead, when she saw her husband. Clasping a hand to her mouth, she desperately tried to regain her composure. The fire in his eyes dared her to say something, just one word about his attire. She bit her tongue, but when Coco clapped her tiny hands in approval and acclaimed "Oh, you is pretty too, Miss Claire's Sirius!" she could not control the laughter anymore. Giggling helplessly, she had to sit down on the stairs.
Sirius stood in the hall, magnificently decked out in pink robes, velvet hat and sparkling belt. He watched her laughing, arms akimbo, and waited patiently until she could breathe again. Then he held out a hand to help her stand up.
He took in the slender grey robes she wore, the diamonds that glittered at her neck and ears, and the crown of pale hair. Cool and elegant, he thought. Sometimes - like just now, when she had giggled - she seemed to be human. But most of the time she was just so fucking perfect, so detached. She managed this crazy household single-handed in spite of her handicap. Not to mention the Winterstorm Bookstores, Winterstorm Owlery Supply Stores and whatever bore the Winterstorm crest and made money.
"You look very lovely," he said softly and meant it.
Claire's eyes met his and for a heartbeat it was as if he could look right into her soul. The naked fear he saw took him by surprise. The hand he held trembled and he could feel her pulse race.
"You need not be afraid."
She tensed and withdrew her hand. "I am not …" Sighing she gave up. "You are right. I am so afraid I almost threw up half an hour ago."
"Voldemort won't be there tonight. Think of it as a social gathering. A party. Just a bunch of people talking and drinking."
"Right. Keep going and I'll surely throw up," she winced. "I have never been to a party!"
* * *