5. Bits and Pieces
„He did what?"
The Potions master's incredulous voice made Claire wince and feel for Sirius' foot under the table.
They sat in Dumbledore's study to report about the evening at Malfoy's.
"He cast a spell on me and …"
"Imperius." Sirius stared blankly at Snape. "He cast Imperius on her."
"If Sirius had not come upon us in time, he'd have …" Claire blushed and found she could not go on.
"But you did find them, didn't you, Sirius?" Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked around the table to Claire. Touching her face very gently he made her raise her chin. Blue and green bruises trailed along her neck and under the robes. "Who did that?"
"Prenner." She closed her eyes and relived the moment with a shudder. "I could not think. I knew I did not want to do as he ordered me to, but …"
"But your mind felt like glue, sticky, thick." Snape's voice called her back. Her stared at her out of dark eyes that knew far too much.
"How do you know how it feels?" she asked.
"That does not belong here. The question is, why did you not cast Confundus at him as soon as you knew what he was up to? Imperius takes tremendous concentration, most wizards can't just flick their wrist and cast it. You must have had enough time to divert Prenner."
Claire's face blushed even more. "I didn't recognise it," she mumbled.
"You did not recognise it? What did they teach you at Beauxbatons that you would not recognise one of the Unforgivable Curses?" He turned angrily to Dumbledore, who sat at the edge of the desk, a hand on Claire's shoulder. "Really, Headmaster, this is a scandal. There should be a minimum standard of education, even …"
"Severus," interrupted Dumbledore. "Claire did not attend school at Beauxbatons. That was just a rumour her parents made up to cover the truth."
"The truth?"
Sirius watched how the Potions master's eyes narrowed to slits and his gaze got piercingly hard. Even as students it had been almost impossible to deceive Snape for long.
"She is a squib, isn't she?"
Claire winced. Another wizard who knew her secret ... She remembered her days in Hogwarts when she'd been convinced that the pale black-haired Slytherin could see right through her disguise. And now he did.
"I understand," he mused, his voice dangerously silky, deceiving, just to scare her even more when he suddenly yelled at her - no not at her, at Sirius.
"Did they mash your brain in Azkaban, Black? Or have you spent too much time as a puppy dog? Even my first years are not as ignorant!" He looked accusingly at the Headmaster. "And you, Albus! You knew about this! You allowed this!"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly and returned to his seat.
"I knew about it, yes. And I am very aware of the dangers, Severus. But it is a fact now, and we have to use it to our advantage." He addressed Claire with a supporting smile. "Do you think Malfoy trusted you, my dear?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He talked a lot about the incentives of joining Voldemort, but when questioned he will just deny we ever discussed it. On the other hand they seem in desperate need of money. He mentioned Voldemort's needs, whatever they are, being very expensive. Maybe that makes them less careful."
"Sirius?"
"The data Arthur Weasley planted about Mr White in the Ministry's files seem sufficient. Nobody suspected me, and the charm worked well enough." He had been quiet relieved about that. "Maybe Snape can make something of the information I got. I can't. It sounded all like stupid society babble."
Black passed him a scroll of parchment where he had noted the names of everybody he had recognised at the party. Snape took it out of Dumbledore's hand and started to study it immediately.
"The unfortunate incident …" Dumbledore started, only to be interrupted by Sirius' angry words.
"Incident? He tried to rape her, Albus."
"And you smashed his nose, just like a good bodyguard is supposed to," the old wizard continued firmly. "What Prenner did, made it necessary for Malfoy to prove to Claire he is in command and worthy her financial involvement. He will invite you again, and next time the meeting won't be as harmless as yesterday." His eyes held Claire's captive. "Are you sure you can do it, dear girl? Nobody would blame you for quitting now."
"Albus, you are not letting her continue!" Snape interfered furiously and threw the parchment on the desk. "Read this! Goyle was there. Simmonds. Just great! He is the new Supervisor of Azkaban. He'll probably just open the doors and let all the Death Eaters walk out. And O'Hanley. You know what O'Hanley did sixteen years ago, Claire?"
Sirius stood up and stepped between the Potions master and Claire. "Shut up, Snape," he said softly but with a menacing tone. "Leave her alone!"
"He was one of the Death Eaters who set fire to the squibs in Cornwall!"
Claire stared at him with eyes wide open in shock. "How do you know," she asked again.
"I was there," he replied curtly. "If anybody can judge the situation, it is I. And I want you out."
Claire crossed her arms defiantly. "I'll continue as long as Headmaster Dumbledore trusts me."
"Albus!"
Dumbledore sighed and looked at Severus. "I trusted you when you told me you could resist Voldemort, and you never disappointed me, even though the odds were very long. Now I trust Claire."
His verdict settled the matter for the time being. Both Severus and Sirius sat down, starring defiantly at each other, but keeping their thoughts to themselves.
The Headmaster turned to Fawkes who whistled excitedly from his perch. "Fawkes wants you to see Poppy about those bruises on your neck," he translated for Claire. "Better comply, and take him with you while you are at it. We need to go over Sirius' list again, and Fawkes can be so annoying when he is freshly reborn."
As soon as Claire had left the office, the beautiful phoenix in her arms, Snape lost his patience. "This is the most foolheaded, idiotic, suicidal plan I ever had to be part of!"
"Stuff it, Snape!" spit Sirius and rose from his chair, ready to fight it out there and then.
Dumbledore raised both arms in desperation. "Boys! Quit it, now!" He wiped his forehead in mock exhaustion. "Things were so much easier when I could take away points from your houses."
"I am sorry, Albus," Sirius sighed. "It's just that I …"
"I know." The old wizard sat down and unrolled the parchment. „We grabbed the dragon's tail and now we can't let go."
"Only one thing." Snape rose and stepped closer to Sirius who was one of the few wizards who were taller than he, if only for an inch. Black eyes stared into dark blue ones. "What is going to happen when Peter Pettigrew ever shows up at Malfoy's little parties? Who is going to protect Claire when you go for his throat?"
Sirius swallowed. He had asked himself the same question this morning. The fury, the blind hatred he felt whenever he thought about his former friend would be hard to control if he ever met him in person again.
"I don't know." he answered honestly. "How do you know I' try to kill Peter?"
The Potions master shrugged. "Because that's what I'd do. Of course I would not strangle him." He stepped back and sat down next to Dumbledore without letting go of Sirius's gaze, "I'd poison the miserable little rat."
* * *
Dumbledore stretched out his arm and Fawkes hopped off Claire's shoulder.
"Is it better now?" he asked.
Madam Pomfrey smiled and patted Claire's back. "Nothing a little spell could not heal."
Claire thanked the nurse and said her good byes to Dumbledore.
"Try not to think too much about the next invitation. Go on with your daily life," he suggested.
"I'll try." Her smile did not reach her eyes.
"Now run, dear girl. Your husband is waiting for you at the door."
They looked after her when she hurried down the hall.
Poppy sighed and stroked the phoenix on Dumbledore's arm. "She is a healer, you know," she said softly.
The Headmaster looked at her. "I suspected something. Fawkes has taken a liking to her, and seeks her company when he feels ill."
"Now that's unusual."
"Even more so since Claire Winterstorm is a squib."
Poppy's eyes widened. "Is she? She is hiding it quite well. But if she is unable to do magic, how can she heal?"
"It would be wrong to assume that being a squib means one was without any talents at all. On the contrary. Most squibs possess one rather unusual gift. Pity is they never get the training to control and use it. Take Mr Filch for instance."
The nurse swallowed her laughter. "Now, Albus, I know for sure that Argus Filch is not a healer."
"But he is a telepath."
She gasped in surprise. "Mrs Norris? Right. I never thought about it. How would he communicate with that wretched cat if not by telepathy?"
He nodded. "Exactly. Now, Claire does seem unaware of her talent. Maybe you could offer to teach a little bit of what you know? Not magic, no spells, but facts about the body. We don't want her to set bones the wrong way, do we?"
* * *
Claire sat in her office and rubbed her eyes. She had hurried through the necessary bookkeeping all afternoon. Now she closed the huge ledgers and tapped the semi-magical quill to take a few last notes for her attorneys in London. Her father had ordered the quills for her, a clever invention that enabled her to write several letters at the same time, or just dictate what she wanted to have written. The quill itself was magical, so it could be used by a squib or Muggle. The only problem was that it would not stop writing if it was not put back safely into its case.
When the letter was ready, Claire sealed and put it on a small pile of other scrolls that waited for the early morning owl flight.
She still had an hour left before dinner, and would use it to do some research on Lucius Malfoy and the people she had met at his house. The more information she had, the less nervous she'd be next time.
She stood up and went to the Archive trunk. Her father had kept all issues of the Daily Prophet, and they proved valuable once in a while when she needed to find out things about prospective business partners. Now she kneeled in front of the trunk and knocked at the lid. After her father's death she had had the trunk altered. Since she could not use a wand to trigger the spell, Minerva had added another charm that made it only necessary to knock at the lid.
"Malfoy, Lucius and/or Narcissa," she said clearly.
The trunk opened and one by one parchments appeared with Malfoy's picture on it. Claire fetched the quill and made it take notes while she gathered information. She went through most of the names she could remember from the list she had compiled with Sirius. In the end four scrolls were filled with the quill's neat writing. Satisfied with the result, she was about to close the trunk, when a sudden inspiration let her say:
"Black, Sirius."
A storm of parchments rose from the trunk and settled next to her on the floor in an orderly pile. She leafed through it but there were too many. Shovelling them back into the trunk, she tried again.
"Black, Sirius. Not Azkaban. Not Potter. Not Escape."
This time she got only five parchments and took them with her to her chair at the window. The first three mentioned his name in connection with Hogwarts Quidditch games, another one was a report about an accident involving a motorcycle - whatever a 'motorcycle' might be, thought Claire.
The fifth one, brown with age, was a feature about Chief-Auror Richard Black of Gynnphyllyn in Wales. Killed by a troll who tried to rob a gold transport on its way to Gringotts, Black had been awarded the Order of the Star, second class, posthumously. He left behind his wife Cassie and four sons, Sirius, Reggie, Pollux and Cas.
Claire stared at the small black and white picture of a smiling young woman with four little boys sitting in front of her on a stonewall in front of a cottage. The parchment was so old, the waving boys flickered and blurred a little, but when she looked closer, she could easily identify Sirius, at age four or five, his arms around his brothers. The youngest boys seemed to be twins or very close in age and were mere toddlers. A year after the picture was taken, their father had been killed.
When the door opened and Sirius entered, she hid the parchment under her files and blushed guiltily. Of course, being married to him gave her no right to dig in his past. But then there were so many things she did not understand. For instance why he shared her bed most nights, but in other nights simply disappeared without explanation. Or what happened to him when he seemed to have left his body or retreated to a place deep inside the soul, like he had done at Malfoy's house. Or how he could touch her so easily, and seem so genuinely pleased when she touched him, and still treat her like a distant acquaintance as soon as they left the bed.
Sirius smiled at her and thought, how unlike any other woman this wife of his was. She filled her days with work, and never requested he'd stay and keep her company. He was sure she didn't miss him. She had found ways to work around her handicap. It was a pleasure to watch her discover life and the joys of freedom, how she took in new faces, soaked up new impressions like a sponge, how a simple broom-ride could make her squeal with excitement. And at night they did their very own magic. It still disturbed him how much he wanted her. Of course his body had been starved for touch. And maybe holding her would keep the darkness from devouring him completely.
He had considered once or twice to tell Dumbledore about his fear to go crazy. The voices, the fits of panic, they were sure signs that his mind deteriorated. But then he'd rather not weight the old wizard down with another responsibility. Dumbledore had enough people to care for as it was.
Claire cleared her desk of ledgers and parchments and put the softly protesting quill back in its case. "How was your day?" she asked. She liked it when he told her about his students and what went on at Hogwarts.
He snorted. "Rufus Stanley of Ravenclaw managed to transfigure today."
"That's great. Isn't it?"
"Into a trout."
"A trout!"
"Bad luck for an Animagus, if their animal is a fish. Luckily one of his classmates scooped him up and threw him into the lake. In his panic he forgot how to transfigure back, so I spent most of the afternoon in the water, talking to a scared trout."
Claire chuckled. "Now guess, what's for dinner?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. Then he gave her a suggestive smile. "Peagreen says to tell you that dinner will be ready in half an hour."
He sat on the desk and pulled her between his legs. Drawing her head closer, he kissed her, gently at first, until he felt her tongue pushing impatiently against his. Oh, she learned fast.
His thumb brushed her cheek.
"Now what could we possibly do with thirty minutes?"
* * *
The last Quidditch match of the summer term turned out a disaster for Gryffindor. Sirius sat at the stands, his head in both hands as if he dreaded the sky to come crashing down. Harry had blown it this time, twice the snitch had been right before his nose and he had not noticed it. The last fifteen minutes of the game passed in utter silence, only interrupted by Lee Jordan's sighs and a cheer from Ravenclaw now or then. Finally the audience was allowed to leave, and not even the victorious team seemed to enjoy their success all that much.
Sirius stayed at his place at the stands and stared at the now empty pitch. A sound made him turn. Lupin sat down next to him without words and they took up staring into nothingness in companionable silence.
After a while Remus sighed.
"That was bad."
"Really bad."
"Harry was distracted. I saw him look at you whenever he flew over the stands."
"Come on, Remus!" Sirius' hand hit the wooden bench. „So it is my fault now Slytherin won the house cup?"
"I am afraid so."
They fell back into silence again.
Then Sirius looked at Remus' face intently. His friend looked pale and exhausted, and it wasn't even close to the full moon. Guiltily Sirius remembered that Remus had looked miserable for some days now. But with the wedding and spying at Malfoy's he had been too busy to ask what was wrong.
"You did not come to blame me, didn't you?"
"Not mainly."
Sirius frowned. „What is it? You were never any good at poker."
"I asked her to marry me. And she said no." Remus shrugged and the gesture was so utterly without hope, Sirius could killed Serene right there.
"Ah, Remmie ..."
"I know. You told me before. But I don't know what to do."
"Who am I to give you advice in that field?" Sirius laughed bitterly. "I am 36 now, and I haven't had a date in 14 years. The last time I thought myself in love was with Carolyn Smitherson, and she was a maid of honour at James' wedding!"
Lupin's face lit up for a moment. „I remember Carolyn. Her oldest boy is a first year in Hufflepuff, did you know?"
Sirius scowled. "There you have it. So if you need advice on how to win a woman's heart, ask Snape."
"Severus." The DADA teacher smirked and looked across the pitch to the now vacant Slytherin stand. "Who'd have thought that he'd ever fall in love?"
"You think he is? In love, I mean."
Remus nodded. "He smiles a lot, lately."
"Scary."
"And you, my friend? What about you?"
"What about me?" Sirius stood up and stretched his arms.
"Are you going to fall in love with your wife?"
"No."
The disappointment in Lupin's face made Sirius smile.
"Ah Remus, you are such a romantic soul. Claire and I have a common mission. As soon as Voldemort is defeated, we'll go our separate ways. She needs to be free, and so do I."
"You were always good at poker, Black. But don't forget, I know you long enough to see through you."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing."
"Remus …"
Lupin rose and grinned at him. „Nothing, really. Wanna play ball? I bet we could still teach the kids something."
A minute later they soared over the pitch, chasing a quaffle that was really a forgotten hat Sirius had bespelled. Neither of them ever noticed Harry who stood in the shadows of the stands and watched them play.
* * *
It was early summer now and the biannual Hogsmeade fair was on. Two weeks before the end of the school year and the dreaded finals, it was the last relaxed weekend for the students. Booths and stalls had been erected along the main street and on the green behind the train station a carnival offered rides and attractions.
All students who were allowed to Hogsmeade poured into the village after Saturday lunch, and from her balcony Claire could hear music and laughter.
She tried to overcome the nervousness that still crawled from her stomach to her throat whenever she had to face people. She was no longer the lonely woman in her gilded prison - she had acquired a husband, two girlfriends and more acquaintances she could have ever hoped for. And once her marriage was over she'd keep the friends hopefully, even if she'd lose Sirius.
She took a deep breath, smoothed her robes and left the house to meet Sirius, Remus and Serene at the Three Broomsticks.
When she arrived at the pub, all the tables and benches in the garden and alongside the road were already taken. Hundreds of wizards sat, drank Butterbeer and Frothberry lemonade, and had a good time. Claire felt lost. It was one thing to live alone and not know anybody. But standing in a crowd and not knowing anybody …
With relief she saw Remus wave. He had saved a seat for her, and gave her a friendly smile, patting the bench next to him.
"Good you are here, Claire. I hate it to sit alone and have people stare at me."
He lied to make her feel less uneasy and she accepted it thankfully.
"Where is Serene?"
"Serene ... decided not to come. Sorry."
His voice made clear he'd rather not discuss the matter.
"And Sirius?"
Remus gave her a hurt frown. "And there I was, thinking you'd be pleased to have me as company!"
"But I am, really," she stuttered and realised he was joking. Exhaling slowly she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I am just not used to people being ironic. But I'll learn."
"I bet. Sirius is great at being ironic. Some would even call it cynical."
"He is not." Claire shook her head unbelievingly. "He doesn't talk too much, but when he does, he seems to be sincere. Where is he anyway?"
Remus gestured vaguely over the street to the carnival. "Trying to talk to Harry."
"Oh."
"It is hard for the boy. I don't try to excuse what he does to Sirius, but he is only fifteen. It is a difficult age."
Claire wrapped a hair strand around her finger. "I don't know too much about teenagers, to be honest."
"Phew, who does? We have all been there, but as soon as you grow out of puberty, you forget about the uproar of emotions and hormones. And Harry has never had any family but Sirius. He doesn't want to share. It's only natural."
"He wouldn't have to share," Claire said very softly. "Sirius and I are only married by name, you know that."
"To understand a concept so weird is too much to ask of a fifth year. It is even too much to ask of a grown … werewolf." His grey eyes sought hers.
"It's not really weird. Sirius is …" her voice faltered and she stared at him in disbelief. "Werewolf? You are … a werewolf?"
He smiled. "Snape insists I'd tell people before they find out themselves."
"Before they watch you sprout whiskers at full moon," Claire giggled helplessly.
"Something like that," he agreed gravely. "Whiskers. And claws. And big teeth."
"Sorry." Claire looked at him seriously now. "I didn't mean to make fun of you. I've read a bit about werewolves."
"No need to be afraid. I take Wolfsbane, and I am pretty much in control."
"What did you mean, you don't understand the weird concept of marriage in name only?" she asked.
Remus face grew concerned. "If you've read about … us ... then you know that we mate for life. So the mere thought of a marriage without love seems … wrong." He shrugged. "Sorry."
"No. I … It's OK. It's not bad, really. I like Sirius. He is nice and he never yells at me or gives me the feeling he was ashamed of me."
"Ashamed?" Remus snorted. „Why ever should he?"
Claire took a deep breath. He had been honest, and so would she. Lupin was Sirius' best friend and confidant if he ever had one, and if she couldn't trust the DADA teacher …
"I am a squib."
Remus coughed on his Butterbeer and almost spit it over the whole table.
Claire passed him a handkerchief. "Sorry. I shouldn't have been so blunt."
"No, no." Remus tried to catch his breath. "It is really nothing to be ashamed of. But how come I remember you from school?"
"You do remember me?"
"Actually I do. Little girl, fair braids, infuriating Sirius whenever they met."
"He was a pest," Clare reminded him of some of the pranks Sirius had played on her.
"He always was when he liked somebody."
She looked at him out of clear grey eyes. "Rest assured, he did not like me at all."
"Look, there he comes."
Remus' mouth twitched when he saw her blush at the sight of Sirius. Then his voice grew gentle.
"He wasn't like this. So … silent, so angry," he said softly. "He was great fun, a prankster if I ever knew one. Before Azkaban, I mean. And he had a way with words."
"Oh yes, I remember. All the girls were just crazy for him."
Remus chuckled. "Yeah, he was a great flirt. But I meant something else. He wrote great stories. I always thought he'd be a writer one day, a travel writer. He'd see the most exotic places and write books to let us know how beautiful the world was. But Azkaban has taken all that from him. He did not travel. He lost … his gift for words. And he lost half of his life for a crime he did not commit."
Claire stared at the tall man who walked towards them through the crowd, and blinked away the tears.
Sirius sat down and forced a smile on his face when he saw Claire. "Good you are here," he said softly. "I needed to see a friendly face."
"Hey, what about me?" protested Remus.
"You've been lovesick and miserable all day long, Lupin, so just shut up." Sirius took a sip of Claire's lemonade and frowned. Remus went into the pub to order two more mugs of Butterbeer, and Sirius leaned against the wall and raised his face to the sun. Claire looked at him and could barely restrain from touching him. He looked unhappy, hurt, and although he did his best to appear undisturbed, she could read him well enough by now.
"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Is Harry still upset?"
"Upset?" Sirius gave a bitter laugh. „He hates me."
Claire touched his arm. "He doesn't hate you. I am sure he does not. He is only confused and angry."
He sighed. "I am at the end of my wits. I tried to explain. He won't hear. he acts as if I wasn't there."
"He needs time." Remus set a mug in front of him. "Maybe after the summer …"
"I missed fifteen years of his life, Remus. And now I'll miss another summer."
"I don't think there is much you can do about it."
Sirius sighed, emptied his mug and rose, reaching for Claire's hand. "Let's go and look at the rides. That's why we are here, isn't it? So Claire can see her first fair."
The two wizards took Claire in the middle and they wandered along the many booths, through gaping customers who admired jewellery, bright garments and magical gadgets of all sorts. Remus paused at a white tent where a witch with golden coins on her headscarf sold minuscule models of the planets.
"No." Sirius's voice was firm and soothing at the same time. "Moony, let it be."
Lupin shrugged and looked at the tiny circulating stars unhappily. "Serene would like it."
"Yes, she would. But you must get off her, do you hear me? She is like a bad potion for you. And in the end she'll kill you."
"You have no idea, my friend. No idea what love is all about, do you?" Remus' voice was bitter.
Claire slipped her hand in his and drew him away from the tent, pretending to be oblivious to his sorrow. Sirius gave her a thankful smile.
They passed a merry-go-round where squeaking children rode wooden dragons and unicorns who shook their magically animated head at every turn. Hags sold foul smelling potions and strange herbs. Claire ate her share of Honeyduke's Special Fair Fudge, and Sirius and Remus tried their luck at a booth where you had to levitate silver balls through an obstacle course. When one of the balls erred off the course, Remus caught it instinctively, only to drop it immediately, wincing with pain. Claire took his hand, deaf to his protests. A vile blister had formed in the palm.
"Real silver," Remus shrugged. "It's bad for werewolves."
Claire laid her hand flat on his and smiled, and after a while the pain vanished and so did the blister. She let go of his hand and continued talking to Sirius about the fair, unaware of Remus' amazement when he looked at his now healed hand.
On their way back to the Three Broomsticks they met Laurel and Snape, who's face told only too clearly that he considered this event a waste of precious time. On the other hand , he was there, and he carried a fluffy dragon with flapping wings and all - which was more than anybody had ever seen him do at a fair. Sirius and Remus did their best to not look at the dragon, and Snape dared them to mention it.
Laurel beamed at Claire.
"Isn't this just marvellous? I have been to a lot of Muggle fairs, but this beats everything. It is so much fun!"
Claire thought that Severus didn't look like he'd had fun yet, but then she remembered how malicious and cold he appeared usually, and how … human … he looked with Laurel by his side. He even sought Laurel's hand, and the gesture seemed so intimate, Claire blushed and adverted her eyes.
„Did you see the jewellery they sell over there? Isn't this horrible? It should be forbidden," said Laurel and pointed at a small stall to the right.
Remus, who had strolled through the market earlier, agreed. "I thought the council banned these things long ago." To Claire he explained: "They put a charm on tiny butterflies and magic them into a crystal trinket. It looks really pretty, but to think that they are still alive and imprisoned forever, just to be sold as jewellery …"
Claire shuddered. She envied anybody who could do magic, but then it could be abused in so many ways, not just by the Unforgivable Curse, but by small things like this. While Laurel urged Remus to sample the sweets she'd bought and Sirius wandered around the stands, Claire gathered all her courage and stepped closer to Snape. Clearing her throat nervously, she kept her eyes steady on the fluffy dragon.
"I need to ask you something … Severus."
He bowed his head. "As long as you don't want me to shoot you a dragon, too."
Her mouth twitched but she remained serious. "Remus said … you expected him to tell others about being a werewolf."
"Or I'd do it. Yes."
"But isn't this a very private thing? If he'd sooner not have people know?"
Snape let his gaze wander over the crowd to Lupin who was laughing with Laurel and Sirius. "Remus kept running away. But you can't outrun your inner demon, werewolf or not. You need to face it." Claire noted how he gripped the toy dragon so hard, his knuckles paled. "And when you do so, you might find that it is not as horrible as you imagined it."
"And … do you expect me to tell everybody as well?"
He sighed. "No. Being a squib is nothing to be ashamed of, whatever your parents made you believe. But right now it would only endanger you if anybody but us knew."
She almost cried with relief. "Thank you."
Laurel laughed right behind her. „You thank him? Oh Severus, don't say you gave my dragon away!"
***
The next morning when Sirius woke up, he knew something was wrong. The light of dawn was still grey and just seeped through the branches of the tree in front of the windows of Claire's bedroom. It took him a minute to figure out what disturbed him so. The room was silent. Very silent. There should at least be ... Claire's breath ... He reached for her, but his hand touched nothing but the cool sheets.
Now really concerned he got up and put on his pants. He checked the adjoining bathroom, even his own bedroom, but she was gone.
When he opened the door to the hallway he froze.
A dozen or so house-elves stood in front of the door, their ears flapping as threateningly as elves managed to.
"What did I do now?" Sirius sighed.
They barred the stairway and their stance made clear he'd not pass that easily. And if he hurt them accidentally, Claire would be upset ...
"What?" he demanded.
The elves exchanged nervous glances, then Coco stepped forward. She stared up at him, the green eyes huge and on fire. "What is you been doing to Miss Claire?"
"Uh?" Sirius shook his head and for a moment he was not sure if this wasn't just a very strange dream. "I didn't do anything."
"But she is crying, Miss Claire's Sirius! Very much!"
Sirius hunched on his heels to be face to face with the elf. "She is crying?"
"Very much. She never is much crying, until today!"
"I understand. Listen, I did not do anything to her," Sirius tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. "Where is she?"
Coco shrugged and blew her nose in a very pretty handkerchief that was almost as big as her tea towel-dress. "We does not know. She left."
* * *
„He did what?"
The Potions master's incredulous voice made Claire wince and feel for Sirius' foot under the table.
They sat in Dumbledore's study to report about the evening at Malfoy's.
"He cast a spell on me and …"
"Imperius." Sirius stared blankly at Snape. "He cast Imperius on her."
"If Sirius had not come upon us in time, he'd have …" Claire blushed and found she could not go on.
"But you did find them, didn't you, Sirius?" Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked around the table to Claire. Touching her face very gently he made her raise her chin. Blue and green bruises trailed along her neck and under the robes. "Who did that?"
"Prenner." She closed her eyes and relived the moment with a shudder. "I could not think. I knew I did not want to do as he ordered me to, but …"
"But your mind felt like glue, sticky, thick." Snape's voice called her back. Her stared at her out of dark eyes that knew far too much.
"How do you know how it feels?" she asked.
"That does not belong here. The question is, why did you not cast Confundus at him as soon as you knew what he was up to? Imperius takes tremendous concentration, most wizards can't just flick their wrist and cast it. You must have had enough time to divert Prenner."
Claire's face blushed even more. "I didn't recognise it," she mumbled.
"You did not recognise it? What did they teach you at Beauxbatons that you would not recognise one of the Unforgivable Curses?" He turned angrily to Dumbledore, who sat at the edge of the desk, a hand on Claire's shoulder. "Really, Headmaster, this is a scandal. There should be a minimum standard of education, even …"
"Severus," interrupted Dumbledore. "Claire did not attend school at Beauxbatons. That was just a rumour her parents made up to cover the truth."
"The truth?"
Sirius watched how the Potions master's eyes narrowed to slits and his gaze got piercingly hard. Even as students it had been almost impossible to deceive Snape for long.
"She is a squib, isn't she?"
Claire winced. Another wizard who knew her secret ... She remembered her days in Hogwarts when she'd been convinced that the pale black-haired Slytherin could see right through her disguise. And now he did.
"I understand," he mused, his voice dangerously silky, deceiving, just to scare her even more when he suddenly yelled at her - no not at her, at Sirius.
"Did they mash your brain in Azkaban, Black? Or have you spent too much time as a puppy dog? Even my first years are not as ignorant!" He looked accusingly at the Headmaster. "And you, Albus! You knew about this! You allowed this!"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly and returned to his seat.
"I knew about it, yes. And I am very aware of the dangers, Severus. But it is a fact now, and we have to use it to our advantage." He addressed Claire with a supporting smile. "Do you think Malfoy trusted you, my dear?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He talked a lot about the incentives of joining Voldemort, but when questioned he will just deny we ever discussed it. On the other hand they seem in desperate need of money. He mentioned Voldemort's needs, whatever they are, being very expensive. Maybe that makes them less careful."
"Sirius?"
"The data Arthur Weasley planted about Mr White in the Ministry's files seem sufficient. Nobody suspected me, and the charm worked well enough." He had been quiet relieved about that. "Maybe Snape can make something of the information I got. I can't. It sounded all like stupid society babble."
Black passed him a scroll of parchment where he had noted the names of everybody he had recognised at the party. Snape took it out of Dumbledore's hand and started to study it immediately.
"The unfortunate incident …" Dumbledore started, only to be interrupted by Sirius' angry words.
"Incident? He tried to rape her, Albus."
"And you smashed his nose, just like a good bodyguard is supposed to," the old wizard continued firmly. "What Prenner did, made it necessary for Malfoy to prove to Claire he is in command and worthy her financial involvement. He will invite you again, and next time the meeting won't be as harmless as yesterday." His eyes held Claire's captive. "Are you sure you can do it, dear girl? Nobody would blame you for quitting now."
"Albus, you are not letting her continue!" Snape interfered furiously and threw the parchment on the desk. "Read this! Goyle was there. Simmonds. Just great! He is the new Supervisor of Azkaban. He'll probably just open the doors and let all the Death Eaters walk out. And O'Hanley. You know what O'Hanley did sixteen years ago, Claire?"
Sirius stood up and stepped between the Potions master and Claire. "Shut up, Snape," he said softly but with a menacing tone. "Leave her alone!"
"He was one of the Death Eaters who set fire to the squibs in Cornwall!"
Claire stared at him with eyes wide open in shock. "How do you know," she asked again.
"I was there," he replied curtly. "If anybody can judge the situation, it is I. And I want you out."
Claire crossed her arms defiantly. "I'll continue as long as Headmaster Dumbledore trusts me."
"Albus!"
Dumbledore sighed and looked at Severus. "I trusted you when you told me you could resist Voldemort, and you never disappointed me, even though the odds were very long. Now I trust Claire."
His verdict settled the matter for the time being. Both Severus and Sirius sat down, starring defiantly at each other, but keeping their thoughts to themselves.
The Headmaster turned to Fawkes who whistled excitedly from his perch. "Fawkes wants you to see Poppy about those bruises on your neck," he translated for Claire. "Better comply, and take him with you while you are at it. We need to go over Sirius' list again, and Fawkes can be so annoying when he is freshly reborn."
As soon as Claire had left the office, the beautiful phoenix in her arms, Snape lost his patience. "This is the most foolheaded, idiotic, suicidal plan I ever had to be part of!"
"Stuff it, Snape!" spit Sirius and rose from his chair, ready to fight it out there and then.
Dumbledore raised both arms in desperation. "Boys! Quit it, now!" He wiped his forehead in mock exhaustion. "Things were so much easier when I could take away points from your houses."
"I am sorry, Albus," Sirius sighed. "It's just that I …"
"I know." The old wizard sat down and unrolled the parchment. „We grabbed the dragon's tail and now we can't let go."
"Only one thing." Snape rose and stepped closer to Sirius who was one of the few wizards who were taller than he, if only for an inch. Black eyes stared into dark blue ones. "What is going to happen when Peter Pettigrew ever shows up at Malfoy's little parties? Who is going to protect Claire when you go for his throat?"
Sirius swallowed. He had asked himself the same question this morning. The fury, the blind hatred he felt whenever he thought about his former friend would be hard to control if he ever met him in person again.
"I don't know." he answered honestly. "How do you know I' try to kill Peter?"
The Potions master shrugged. "Because that's what I'd do. Of course I would not strangle him." He stepped back and sat down next to Dumbledore without letting go of Sirius's gaze, "I'd poison the miserable little rat."
* * *
Dumbledore stretched out his arm and Fawkes hopped off Claire's shoulder.
"Is it better now?" he asked.
Madam Pomfrey smiled and patted Claire's back. "Nothing a little spell could not heal."
Claire thanked the nurse and said her good byes to Dumbledore.
"Try not to think too much about the next invitation. Go on with your daily life," he suggested.
"I'll try." Her smile did not reach her eyes.
"Now run, dear girl. Your husband is waiting for you at the door."
They looked after her when she hurried down the hall.
Poppy sighed and stroked the phoenix on Dumbledore's arm. "She is a healer, you know," she said softly.
The Headmaster looked at her. "I suspected something. Fawkes has taken a liking to her, and seeks her company when he feels ill."
"Now that's unusual."
"Even more so since Claire Winterstorm is a squib."
Poppy's eyes widened. "Is she? She is hiding it quite well. But if she is unable to do magic, how can she heal?"
"It would be wrong to assume that being a squib means one was without any talents at all. On the contrary. Most squibs possess one rather unusual gift. Pity is they never get the training to control and use it. Take Mr Filch for instance."
The nurse swallowed her laughter. "Now, Albus, I know for sure that Argus Filch is not a healer."
"But he is a telepath."
She gasped in surprise. "Mrs Norris? Right. I never thought about it. How would he communicate with that wretched cat if not by telepathy?"
He nodded. "Exactly. Now, Claire does seem unaware of her talent. Maybe you could offer to teach a little bit of what you know? Not magic, no spells, but facts about the body. We don't want her to set bones the wrong way, do we?"
* * *
Claire sat in her office and rubbed her eyes. She had hurried through the necessary bookkeeping all afternoon. Now she closed the huge ledgers and tapped the semi-magical quill to take a few last notes for her attorneys in London. Her father had ordered the quills for her, a clever invention that enabled her to write several letters at the same time, or just dictate what she wanted to have written. The quill itself was magical, so it could be used by a squib or Muggle. The only problem was that it would not stop writing if it was not put back safely into its case.
When the letter was ready, Claire sealed and put it on a small pile of other scrolls that waited for the early morning owl flight.
She still had an hour left before dinner, and would use it to do some research on Lucius Malfoy and the people she had met at his house. The more information she had, the less nervous she'd be next time.
She stood up and went to the Archive trunk. Her father had kept all issues of the Daily Prophet, and they proved valuable once in a while when she needed to find out things about prospective business partners. Now she kneeled in front of the trunk and knocked at the lid. After her father's death she had had the trunk altered. Since she could not use a wand to trigger the spell, Minerva had added another charm that made it only necessary to knock at the lid.
"Malfoy, Lucius and/or Narcissa," she said clearly.
The trunk opened and one by one parchments appeared with Malfoy's picture on it. Claire fetched the quill and made it take notes while she gathered information. She went through most of the names she could remember from the list she had compiled with Sirius. In the end four scrolls were filled with the quill's neat writing. Satisfied with the result, she was about to close the trunk, when a sudden inspiration let her say:
"Black, Sirius."
A storm of parchments rose from the trunk and settled next to her on the floor in an orderly pile. She leafed through it but there were too many. Shovelling them back into the trunk, she tried again.
"Black, Sirius. Not Azkaban. Not Potter. Not Escape."
This time she got only five parchments and took them with her to her chair at the window. The first three mentioned his name in connection with Hogwarts Quidditch games, another one was a report about an accident involving a motorcycle - whatever a 'motorcycle' might be, thought Claire.
The fifth one, brown with age, was a feature about Chief-Auror Richard Black of Gynnphyllyn in Wales. Killed by a troll who tried to rob a gold transport on its way to Gringotts, Black had been awarded the Order of the Star, second class, posthumously. He left behind his wife Cassie and four sons, Sirius, Reggie, Pollux and Cas.
Claire stared at the small black and white picture of a smiling young woman with four little boys sitting in front of her on a stonewall in front of a cottage. The parchment was so old, the waving boys flickered and blurred a little, but when she looked closer, she could easily identify Sirius, at age four or five, his arms around his brothers. The youngest boys seemed to be twins or very close in age and were mere toddlers. A year after the picture was taken, their father had been killed.
When the door opened and Sirius entered, she hid the parchment under her files and blushed guiltily. Of course, being married to him gave her no right to dig in his past. But then there were so many things she did not understand. For instance why he shared her bed most nights, but in other nights simply disappeared without explanation. Or what happened to him when he seemed to have left his body or retreated to a place deep inside the soul, like he had done at Malfoy's house. Or how he could touch her so easily, and seem so genuinely pleased when she touched him, and still treat her like a distant acquaintance as soon as they left the bed.
Sirius smiled at her and thought, how unlike any other woman this wife of his was. She filled her days with work, and never requested he'd stay and keep her company. He was sure she didn't miss him. She had found ways to work around her handicap. It was a pleasure to watch her discover life and the joys of freedom, how she took in new faces, soaked up new impressions like a sponge, how a simple broom-ride could make her squeal with excitement. And at night they did their very own magic. It still disturbed him how much he wanted her. Of course his body had been starved for touch. And maybe holding her would keep the darkness from devouring him completely.
He had considered once or twice to tell Dumbledore about his fear to go crazy. The voices, the fits of panic, they were sure signs that his mind deteriorated. But then he'd rather not weight the old wizard down with another responsibility. Dumbledore had enough people to care for as it was.
Claire cleared her desk of ledgers and parchments and put the softly protesting quill back in its case. "How was your day?" she asked. She liked it when he told her about his students and what went on at Hogwarts.
He snorted. "Rufus Stanley of Ravenclaw managed to transfigure today."
"That's great. Isn't it?"
"Into a trout."
"A trout!"
"Bad luck for an Animagus, if their animal is a fish. Luckily one of his classmates scooped him up and threw him into the lake. In his panic he forgot how to transfigure back, so I spent most of the afternoon in the water, talking to a scared trout."
Claire chuckled. "Now guess, what's for dinner?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. Then he gave her a suggestive smile. "Peagreen says to tell you that dinner will be ready in half an hour."
He sat on the desk and pulled her between his legs. Drawing her head closer, he kissed her, gently at first, until he felt her tongue pushing impatiently against his. Oh, she learned fast.
His thumb brushed her cheek.
"Now what could we possibly do with thirty minutes?"
* * *
The last Quidditch match of the summer term turned out a disaster for Gryffindor. Sirius sat at the stands, his head in both hands as if he dreaded the sky to come crashing down. Harry had blown it this time, twice the snitch had been right before his nose and he had not noticed it. The last fifteen minutes of the game passed in utter silence, only interrupted by Lee Jordan's sighs and a cheer from Ravenclaw now or then. Finally the audience was allowed to leave, and not even the victorious team seemed to enjoy their success all that much.
Sirius stayed at his place at the stands and stared at the now empty pitch. A sound made him turn. Lupin sat down next to him without words and they took up staring into nothingness in companionable silence.
After a while Remus sighed.
"That was bad."
"Really bad."
"Harry was distracted. I saw him look at you whenever he flew over the stands."
"Come on, Remus!" Sirius' hand hit the wooden bench. „So it is my fault now Slytherin won the house cup?"
"I am afraid so."
They fell back into silence again.
Then Sirius looked at Remus' face intently. His friend looked pale and exhausted, and it wasn't even close to the full moon. Guiltily Sirius remembered that Remus had looked miserable for some days now. But with the wedding and spying at Malfoy's he had been too busy to ask what was wrong.
"You did not come to blame me, didn't you?"
"Not mainly."
Sirius frowned. „What is it? You were never any good at poker."
"I asked her to marry me. And she said no." Remus shrugged and the gesture was so utterly without hope, Sirius could killed Serene right there.
"Ah, Remmie ..."
"I know. You told me before. But I don't know what to do."
"Who am I to give you advice in that field?" Sirius laughed bitterly. "I am 36 now, and I haven't had a date in 14 years. The last time I thought myself in love was with Carolyn Smitherson, and she was a maid of honour at James' wedding!"
Lupin's face lit up for a moment. „I remember Carolyn. Her oldest boy is a first year in Hufflepuff, did you know?"
Sirius scowled. "There you have it. So if you need advice on how to win a woman's heart, ask Snape."
"Severus." The DADA teacher smirked and looked across the pitch to the now vacant Slytherin stand. "Who'd have thought that he'd ever fall in love?"
"You think he is? In love, I mean."
Remus nodded. "He smiles a lot, lately."
"Scary."
"And you, my friend? What about you?"
"What about me?" Sirius stood up and stretched his arms.
"Are you going to fall in love with your wife?"
"No."
The disappointment in Lupin's face made Sirius smile.
"Ah Remus, you are such a romantic soul. Claire and I have a common mission. As soon as Voldemort is defeated, we'll go our separate ways. She needs to be free, and so do I."
"You were always good at poker, Black. But don't forget, I know you long enough to see through you."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing."
"Remus …"
Lupin rose and grinned at him. „Nothing, really. Wanna play ball? I bet we could still teach the kids something."
A minute later they soared over the pitch, chasing a quaffle that was really a forgotten hat Sirius had bespelled. Neither of them ever noticed Harry who stood in the shadows of the stands and watched them play.
* * *
It was early summer now and the biannual Hogsmeade fair was on. Two weeks before the end of the school year and the dreaded finals, it was the last relaxed weekend for the students. Booths and stalls had been erected along the main street and on the green behind the train station a carnival offered rides and attractions.
All students who were allowed to Hogsmeade poured into the village after Saturday lunch, and from her balcony Claire could hear music and laughter.
She tried to overcome the nervousness that still crawled from her stomach to her throat whenever she had to face people. She was no longer the lonely woman in her gilded prison - she had acquired a husband, two girlfriends and more acquaintances she could have ever hoped for. And once her marriage was over she'd keep the friends hopefully, even if she'd lose Sirius.
She took a deep breath, smoothed her robes and left the house to meet Sirius, Remus and Serene at the Three Broomsticks.
When she arrived at the pub, all the tables and benches in the garden and alongside the road were already taken. Hundreds of wizards sat, drank Butterbeer and Frothberry lemonade, and had a good time. Claire felt lost. It was one thing to live alone and not know anybody. But standing in a crowd and not knowing anybody …
With relief she saw Remus wave. He had saved a seat for her, and gave her a friendly smile, patting the bench next to him.
"Good you are here, Claire. I hate it to sit alone and have people stare at me."
He lied to make her feel less uneasy and she accepted it thankfully.
"Where is Serene?"
"Serene ... decided not to come. Sorry."
His voice made clear he'd rather not discuss the matter.
"And Sirius?"
Remus gave her a hurt frown. "And there I was, thinking you'd be pleased to have me as company!"
"But I am, really," she stuttered and realised he was joking. Exhaling slowly she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I am just not used to people being ironic. But I'll learn."
"I bet. Sirius is great at being ironic. Some would even call it cynical."
"He is not." Claire shook her head unbelievingly. "He doesn't talk too much, but when he does, he seems to be sincere. Where is he anyway?"
Remus gestured vaguely over the street to the carnival. "Trying to talk to Harry."
"Oh."
"It is hard for the boy. I don't try to excuse what he does to Sirius, but he is only fifteen. It is a difficult age."
Claire wrapped a hair strand around her finger. "I don't know too much about teenagers, to be honest."
"Phew, who does? We have all been there, but as soon as you grow out of puberty, you forget about the uproar of emotions and hormones. And Harry has never had any family but Sirius. He doesn't want to share. It's only natural."
"He wouldn't have to share," Claire said very softly. "Sirius and I are only married by name, you know that."
"To understand a concept so weird is too much to ask of a fifth year. It is even too much to ask of a grown … werewolf." His grey eyes sought hers.
"It's not really weird. Sirius is …" her voice faltered and she stared at him in disbelief. "Werewolf? You are … a werewolf?"
He smiled. "Snape insists I'd tell people before they find out themselves."
"Before they watch you sprout whiskers at full moon," Claire giggled helplessly.
"Something like that," he agreed gravely. "Whiskers. And claws. And big teeth."
"Sorry." Claire looked at him seriously now. "I didn't mean to make fun of you. I've read a bit about werewolves."
"No need to be afraid. I take Wolfsbane, and I am pretty much in control."
"What did you mean, you don't understand the weird concept of marriage in name only?" she asked.
Remus face grew concerned. "If you've read about … us ... then you know that we mate for life. So the mere thought of a marriage without love seems … wrong." He shrugged. "Sorry."
"No. I … It's OK. It's not bad, really. I like Sirius. He is nice and he never yells at me or gives me the feeling he was ashamed of me."
"Ashamed?" Remus snorted. „Why ever should he?"
Claire took a deep breath. He had been honest, and so would she. Lupin was Sirius' best friend and confidant if he ever had one, and if she couldn't trust the DADA teacher …
"I am a squib."
Remus coughed on his Butterbeer and almost spit it over the whole table.
Claire passed him a handkerchief. "Sorry. I shouldn't have been so blunt."
"No, no." Remus tried to catch his breath. "It is really nothing to be ashamed of. But how come I remember you from school?"
"You do remember me?"
"Actually I do. Little girl, fair braids, infuriating Sirius whenever they met."
"He was a pest," Clare reminded him of some of the pranks Sirius had played on her.
"He always was when he liked somebody."
She looked at him out of clear grey eyes. "Rest assured, he did not like me at all."
"Look, there he comes."
Remus' mouth twitched when he saw her blush at the sight of Sirius. Then his voice grew gentle.
"He wasn't like this. So … silent, so angry," he said softly. "He was great fun, a prankster if I ever knew one. Before Azkaban, I mean. And he had a way with words."
"Oh yes, I remember. All the girls were just crazy for him."
Remus chuckled. "Yeah, he was a great flirt. But I meant something else. He wrote great stories. I always thought he'd be a writer one day, a travel writer. He'd see the most exotic places and write books to let us know how beautiful the world was. But Azkaban has taken all that from him. He did not travel. He lost … his gift for words. And he lost half of his life for a crime he did not commit."
Claire stared at the tall man who walked towards them through the crowd, and blinked away the tears.
Sirius sat down and forced a smile on his face when he saw Claire. "Good you are here," he said softly. "I needed to see a friendly face."
"Hey, what about me?" protested Remus.
"You've been lovesick and miserable all day long, Lupin, so just shut up." Sirius took a sip of Claire's lemonade and frowned. Remus went into the pub to order two more mugs of Butterbeer, and Sirius leaned against the wall and raised his face to the sun. Claire looked at him and could barely restrain from touching him. He looked unhappy, hurt, and although he did his best to appear undisturbed, she could read him well enough by now.
"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Is Harry still upset?"
"Upset?" Sirius gave a bitter laugh. „He hates me."
Claire touched his arm. "He doesn't hate you. I am sure he does not. He is only confused and angry."
He sighed. "I am at the end of my wits. I tried to explain. He won't hear. he acts as if I wasn't there."
"He needs time." Remus set a mug in front of him. "Maybe after the summer …"
"I missed fifteen years of his life, Remus. And now I'll miss another summer."
"I don't think there is much you can do about it."
Sirius sighed, emptied his mug and rose, reaching for Claire's hand. "Let's go and look at the rides. That's why we are here, isn't it? So Claire can see her first fair."
The two wizards took Claire in the middle and they wandered along the many booths, through gaping customers who admired jewellery, bright garments and magical gadgets of all sorts. Remus paused at a white tent where a witch with golden coins on her headscarf sold minuscule models of the planets.
"No." Sirius's voice was firm and soothing at the same time. "Moony, let it be."
Lupin shrugged and looked at the tiny circulating stars unhappily. "Serene would like it."
"Yes, she would. But you must get off her, do you hear me? She is like a bad potion for you. And in the end she'll kill you."
"You have no idea, my friend. No idea what love is all about, do you?" Remus' voice was bitter.
Claire slipped her hand in his and drew him away from the tent, pretending to be oblivious to his sorrow. Sirius gave her a thankful smile.
They passed a merry-go-round where squeaking children rode wooden dragons and unicorns who shook their magically animated head at every turn. Hags sold foul smelling potions and strange herbs. Claire ate her share of Honeyduke's Special Fair Fudge, and Sirius and Remus tried their luck at a booth where you had to levitate silver balls through an obstacle course. When one of the balls erred off the course, Remus caught it instinctively, only to drop it immediately, wincing with pain. Claire took his hand, deaf to his protests. A vile blister had formed in the palm.
"Real silver," Remus shrugged. "It's bad for werewolves."
Claire laid her hand flat on his and smiled, and after a while the pain vanished and so did the blister. She let go of his hand and continued talking to Sirius about the fair, unaware of Remus' amazement when he looked at his now healed hand.
On their way back to the Three Broomsticks they met Laurel and Snape, who's face told only too clearly that he considered this event a waste of precious time. On the other hand , he was there, and he carried a fluffy dragon with flapping wings and all - which was more than anybody had ever seen him do at a fair. Sirius and Remus did their best to not look at the dragon, and Snape dared them to mention it.
Laurel beamed at Claire.
"Isn't this just marvellous? I have been to a lot of Muggle fairs, but this beats everything. It is so much fun!"
Claire thought that Severus didn't look like he'd had fun yet, but then she remembered how malicious and cold he appeared usually, and how … human … he looked with Laurel by his side. He even sought Laurel's hand, and the gesture seemed so intimate, Claire blushed and adverted her eyes.
„Did you see the jewellery they sell over there? Isn't this horrible? It should be forbidden," said Laurel and pointed at a small stall to the right.
Remus, who had strolled through the market earlier, agreed. "I thought the council banned these things long ago." To Claire he explained: "They put a charm on tiny butterflies and magic them into a crystal trinket. It looks really pretty, but to think that they are still alive and imprisoned forever, just to be sold as jewellery …"
Claire shuddered. She envied anybody who could do magic, but then it could be abused in so many ways, not just by the Unforgivable Curse, but by small things like this. While Laurel urged Remus to sample the sweets she'd bought and Sirius wandered around the stands, Claire gathered all her courage and stepped closer to Snape. Clearing her throat nervously, she kept her eyes steady on the fluffy dragon.
"I need to ask you something … Severus."
He bowed his head. "As long as you don't want me to shoot you a dragon, too."
Her mouth twitched but she remained serious. "Remus said … you expected him to tell others about being a werewolf."
"Or I'd do it. Yes."
"But isn't this a very private thing? If he'd sooner not have people know?"
Snape let his gaze wander over the crowd to Lupin who was laughing with Laurel and Sirius. "Remus kept running away. But you can't outrun your inner demon, werewolf or not. You need to face it." Claire noted how he gripped the toy dragon so hard, his knuckles paled. "And when you do so, you might find that it is not as horrible as you imagined it."
"And … do you expect me to tell everybody as well?"
He sighed. "No. Being a squib is nothing to be ashamed of, whatever your parents made you believe. But right now it would only endanger you if anybody but us knew."
She almost cried with relief. "Thank you."
Laurel laughed right behind her. „You thank him? Oh Severus, don't say you gave my dragon away!"
***
The next morning when Sirius woke up, he knew something was wrong. The light of dawn was still grey and just seeped through the branches of the tree in front of the windows of Claire's bedroom. It took him a minute to figure out what disturbed him so. The room was silent. Very silent. There should at least be ... Claire's breath ... He reached for her, but his hand touched nothing but the cool sheets.
Now really concerned he got up and put on his pants. He checked the adjoining bathroom, even his own bedroom, but she was gone.
When he opened the door to the hallway he froze.
A dozen or so house-elves stood in front of the door, their ears flapping as threateningly as elves managed to.
"What did I do now?" Sirius sighed.
They barred the stairway and their stance made clear he'd not pass that easily. And if he hurt them accidentally, Claire would be upset ...
"What?" he demanded.
The elves exchanged nervous glances, then Coco stepped forward. She stared up at him, the green eyes huge and on fire. "What is you been doing to Miss Claire?"
"Uh?" Sirius shook his head and for a moment he was not sure if this wasn't just a very strange dream. "I didn't do anything."
"But she is crying, Miss Claire's Sirius! Very much!"
Sirius hunched on his heels to be face to face with the elf. "She is crying?"
"Very much. She never is much crying, until today!"
"I understand. Listen, I did not do anything to her," Sirius tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. "Where is she?"
Coco shrugged and blew her nose in a very pretty handkerchief that was almost as big as her tea towel-dress. "We does not know. She left."
* * *