7. MOMENTS IN TIME
The dreaded letter arrived early in the morning by express owl on the day the students were to leave for the summer.
Sirius had not spoken a word through breakfast and stared into his teacup as if he could spot a solution for the muddle with Harry. Claire wished she could offer advice, but although she understood why Harry acted the way he did, she had no idea how to change his mind.
Hesitantly she pushed the scroll towards Sirius. "He says next Saturday."
"Hmm?" Sirius gave a start.
"Malfoy suggests a meeting in London next Saturday."
"In London?"
He took the parchment and studied it. Not even the most suspicious Auror would be able to trip Malfoy up with this invitation to tea at Fortescue's in Diagon Alley.
"I'll inform Dumbledore."
She nodded. „And I'll go shopping. You'll need new robes, since I ruined the pink number you wore last time."
He winced. "Can't I just pick one myself?"
"Serene knows best, believe me." She gave him a teasing smile. "But I'll try to prevent the worst."
"If the pink thing I had to wear was not the worst ..." Sirius shuddered. "But I am not going to let these ridiculous boots anywhere near me ever again."
Claire gathered the mail and turned to leave the breakfast room. Standing in the door, she changed her mind and went back to the table. Before shyness and awkwardness would get the better of her, she gave Sirius a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't be so sad about Harry," she whispered. "Show him that you'll be there, whatever he does."
Then she ran out of the room in a flourish of skirts, the parchments gathered to her breast.
* * *
Later that afternoon Claire, Laurel and Serene walked down the main street of Hogsmeade, chattering merrily, the two Professors exhilarated about the start of the summer holidays.
"I really want to visit my family," Laurel mused and gave a sigh, when they came out of Honeydukes without having to fight their way through a crowd of students craving sweets. "Severus is not happy with the idea, and I am not sure how he'll get along with my folks, but I miss them a lot. And I want him to get a taste of muggle life, just so he can appreciate, what I gave up."
Serene chuckled. "Microwave ovens."
"The Internet."
"Soap operas."
"Cuba libre."
Laurel smirked. "Oh, you can get that at the Three Broomsticks if you ask Rosmerta very nicely."
"Still, you are right. I love it here, don't get me wrong, but there are things I really miss." Serene sighed. "Fashion magazines. And men in jeans and t-shirts."
Claire gazed at them and shook her head. "I have no idea what you are talking about. What is a microwave? And jeans?"
"Jeans are … tight pants," Serene tried to explain. "The thing is, Muggles don't wear robes to cover the pants."
She and Laurel laughed when Claire blushed incredulously.
"Honestly! When you go to London, ask Sirius to take you to wander a bit outside. You'll see it yourself."
" I saw Sirius wear jeans and a leather jacket once, and he is just gorgeous!" Laurel enthused. "So you don't even need to go to London, just make him dress up for you at your house. But may I suggest, you do it in your bedroom ..."
They had arrived at Gladrags, and Laurel rolled her eyes at the sight of the great store. "Do we have to go there? Do I have to go with you? Can't I just wait at the pub?"
Serene grabbed her sleeve mercilessly and drew her through the door. "You come with us! And you won't get out without a new robe, and if I have to hex it onto you myself."
A wizard hurried towards them, face pale, hands trembling. "Miss Kennedy! You give us the honour … again …"
"They hate me," Serene whispered into Claire's ear. "Most of their stuff is so old-fashioned, and I am afraid I told them one time too often."
"You really should open a store yourself, Serene," suggested Claire seriously. "Your taste in fashion is implacable."
"While her taste in men is just sad." Laurel stood next to a rack with plain blue robes.
Serene's face clouded and her eyes turned a very angry green. It was as if she'd caught fire, thought Claire, once more envious about Serene's gorgeous red hair.
"Stop teasing her, Laurel. If she loves not Remus but somebody else, she can't possibly lie to him, can't she?"
Serene turned away from her and pretended to study the fabric of a wizard's robe with a fluffy kneazle collar. "I don't love anybody else," she said very softly.
Claire looked at Laurel for advice, but her friend only shook her head wordlessly. Whatever Serene's problem was, it was apparently not another wizard, but something about Remus, that made her turn him down when he asked her to marry him.
"Now, what do you suggest for Sirius this time," she asked with forced cheerfulness. She really liked Serene and she liked Remus, who was certainly the kindest wizard she knew, and if these two were not made for each other, then she did not know anything about love. Which she didn't, she reminded herself.
"He hated the pink one, so please let it be a blue or green robe this time."
Serene nodded and began to pick robes off the racks and discuss their details and fabric with Claire, while Laurel, obviously bored, took mercy on the clerk and let him show her gloves of thin dragon scale skin. Maybe she could work out a deal with Severus. One week of slave labour in that dungeon lab of his in exchange for a week with her family … It was not really fair, since she loved to help him in the lab, but maybe she could make it sound like she hated it. But then it was almost impossible to deceive Severus, when he did not want to be deceived. She sighed, bought a black pair of gloves and turned to Serene and Claire who had shortened the list to three outfits of tearjerking ugliness.
"I know it insults the eye and makes you want to throw up …" Serene said.
Claire giggled. "I did! I mean, I did throw up on the other robe. The pink one."
When she saw the two witches stare at her, she blushed. "Long story, really." She touched the sleeve of the robe. "It feels odd."
"They make it out of silk dyed with a certain kind of funghi. It gleams in the dark."
Laurel laughed amusedly, and Serene frowned. "I never said it was pretty or I'd want anybody I love to wear it. But it is highly fashionable and indecently expensive, and everyone will expect the husband of Britain's richest witch to wear something like this."
"Now how about this very exclusive creation that just arrived from our branch in Paris," the clerk dared to interfere and presented a black and white striped robe with scarlet fastening. "It is the height of fashion, I assure you, Miss Kennedy."
This evening he'd tell his girlfriend at dinner about his customer from hell, who tore apart all of his robes verbally and today even ran out of the store when he showed her a robe. But now all he could do was stand and stare at the open door where Serene had just disappeared, hand clamped over her mouth.
Laurel and Claire were as thunderstruck as he was. Laurel tried to smile apologetically, grabbed Claire's hand, and ran after Serene.
They found her on the green, hugging her shoulders and rocking gently like a scared child. Laurel kneeled next to her, touched her shoulder very carefully and talked as soothingly and softly as she could.
Serene just whimpered. Claire looked around, but there was nobody who'd see them. She hunched on her heels and placed both hands gently on Serene's temples. Closing her eyes she concentrated and almost immediately the whimpers subsided and Serene's breathing rate became steadier. Laurel watched in awe.
"How did you do this?" she asked softly.
"Does she get migraines often?" Claire asked her.
Laurel shook her head. "I am afraid this is not a migraine. Serene is a clairvoyant. She can see … events."
"See events? You mean she can see the future?" Claire sounded doubtfully. She did not believe in divinations, but she knew it was a huge industry in the Muggle world, and Winterstorm actually had just introduced a very nice set of Tarot cards for the Muggle market.
"She can see the future, or at least one of many possible futures." Laurel sighed. "It is very difficult. I did not believe it either but then … Well, I changed my mind."
In short words she told Claire about Serene's vision of Severus killing Dumbledore, and how it had come to pass without really happening. She left out that Serene had almost killed her in her attempts to change the future.
Serene looked at her with eyes that were almost black. "What I saw then, happened."
"No, it did not. Severus did not kill the Headmaster."
"But he killed somebody who looked like Dumbledore!"
"No." Laurel shook her head. "You changed the future, Serene. I thought about it a lot when Severus was so ill. You actually succeeded, but not by trying to alter the setting. Just by telling Severus, you made him consider how he'd act if your vision ever became reality. So when it happened he was prepared."
Serene gave her a thankful if shaky smile. "I never saw it like that. Thank you. It is horrible to feel so powerless."
"What could you have possibly seen, Serene?" asked Claire. "That robe was awful, I give you that, but ..."
"I saw Sirius in that very robe." Serene did not meet her eyes. "I had this vision before, several times actually, since he arrived at Hogwarts. But I thought I had flashbacks."
"Flashbacks?" Laurel searched in her bag for the chocolate she had bought at Honeydukes and stuffed a truffle into Serene's mouth.
Chewing Serene explained: "Sometimes I can see a person's past, or rather glimpses of it. I thought it had to be a flashback because …" She swallowed and finally looked at Claire, her eyes filled with pity. "I saw him in Azkaban, in that very robe. But since this is a new model, I have seen the future."
* * *
Deeply worried Claire came home and dropped the robes she had bought onto the bed. Her first impulse had been to shred or burn the striped robe that had triggered Serene's vision, but Laurel had held her back.
"Believe me, if Serene sees him in that robe, he'll wear it. Whether you destroy this one or not." So she had bought it, but only to hide it in the back of her wardrobe. If she had anything to say about it, Sirius would never get near that thing.
Almost guiltily she rose from the floor in front of the wardrobe when Sirius entered the bedroom.
"Let me see what you got me," he asked, his face clouded by pretend worry.
"Ehm, Serene said that turquoise will bring out your eyes."
He snorted. "The content of my stomach, rather."
Claire held the robe next to his face. "She is right," she judged. "Of course the robe is awful with all the frills and ribbons, but if it was plain …"
"Can't I just be dressed normally and act really dumb?" Sirius sighed.
"I am afraid not." Claire thought about something else. "We are supposed to meet Malfoy after lunch, aren't we?"
"Right." He shook his head incredulously when he saw the yellow robe with its tiny bells.
"Would you mind if we went earlier and I had a look at London?"
"A look at London?"
"I have never been there and I thought, I could ..."
"Great idea. But we'll have to get you some Muggle clothes."
Claire nodded eagerly. "I can borrow something from Laurel."
"There are so many things I want to show you," Sirius enthused. "I used to live there for almost a year after graduation. Before …"
She knew what he wanted to say. Before the Potters were killed.
"So let's go there real early, and you can take me around before we face Lucius Malfoy again," she said quickly to take his mind off the sad memory.
"Oh, Sirius, by the way," she said without looking at him while she stored away the robes. "Do you by any chance own jeans and a T-shirt?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Only thinking …" She smiled to herself. "Only thinking."
* * *
Claire cleared her throat and tried to stop staring at Sirius who walked next to her in jeans and a black leather jacket, his long black hair tied back into a ponytail. Laurel had been right about London and about Muggle clothes. They were indecently tight, and oh yes, Sirius did look gorgeous ...
He turned and gave her a teasing smile that made her blush violently. "I know what you are doing, Baby."
"I was only looking," she mumbled, embarrassed he had caught her staring at his butt.
Sirius' eyes twinkled. "You may not only look but touch, if you want," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
She hid her face in his jacket. "I am sorry. It is just that I am not used to this kind of dress."
The thin flowered dress she had borrowed from Laurel barely covered her knees. The soft summer breeze stroked the skin on her bare arms and legs. It felt ... good ... sensual.
"Are you sure this is not supposed to be an under-garment?" she asked Sirius and gingerly touched the spot where his T-shirt bared his arm.
"I am positive. They all wear this stuff, just look around us." He let his hand wander to the ribbon that tied her tight braid. "But this dress demands open hair, believe me, I am an expert in this."
He pulled at the ribbon and undid her braid. "Now, that's much better."
Awkwardly Claire touched her open hair. It had to do, and of course Sirius was right, many Muggle women wore their hair like this.
"Now what?" she asked.
Sirius took her for a stroll through the city and took great pleasure in the wonderment he could see in her eyes gazing at shop windows, traffic lights and telephone booths. The only thing she seemed to be genuinely afraid of were the cars.
"They are not allowed on the side-walk," Sirius explained. "And if you want to cross the street, just wait for the green light."
Claire let out a trembling sigh. "Ygor got killed by one of these auto- thingies."
"Ygor? Your ... friend?"
She knew that he had swallowed the word 'slave' and gave him a sad smile. "I ran away from home, when Father told me I was not allowed to return to Hogwarts. Ygor tried to talk me out of it, said it was much too dangerous. But I was so determined. We did not get very far though."
Sirius saw the tears well up in her eyes. Death. He knew the never-mending wound it tore only too well. Again he was lost for words, like so many times when he needed them lately. He had not been able to explain to Harry why he had married, he had not been able to help Remus, and now he could not think of anything to say that would console his wife. It was as if the dark coldness that attacked him so often now, sucked the words out of his mind.
He gently touched Claire's cheek and let her cry for a moment.
She blew her nose and took a deep breath. "It was dark and so I decided to walk under the street-lamps. Then the car came and hit Ygor. It did not even stop. And he died there."
"He protected you." Sirius looked at her with curious intensity.
"Yes. He died for me. But I wanted him to live for me."
Wordlessly they turned away from the busy street and wandered through small side alleys until they reached an open square where buskers showed their talent. Sirius bought two chocolate croissants from a vendor and they joined the audience at the stairs.
Claire watched with joy how the Muggles laughed, talked, read books or simply listened to the musicians. Everybody seemed to have a good time.
"It is Saturday, so it is their day off," explained Sirius. "Don't get the wrong idea about their life. They have to work just like any wizard."
He let a piece of croissant tangle in front of her mouth and pulled it away quickly when Claire tried to take a bite.
"I really don't know," he mused. "After all it would be a gift, and you told me explicitly that you are not fond of gifts."
She blushed. "Just not of ... Well, you know." He was only teasing, but it had been hard enough to talk about it the first time in the forest and she wanted nothing less than go through the same embarrassment again. "This does not count. It is food. You owe me breakfast anyway for buying you that great outfit you are going to wear this afternoon."
"Right. I owe you." He stuffed the croissant into her mouth to silence her, and let his hand wander to the back of her neck where he played with the thin silver chain she wore. Then he bowed closer and whispered into her ear. "One day you'll come to me, and you won't need that trinket to show me what you want. On that day I'll grant you a wish. Anything you want. But until then, no more gifts."
A photographer made them both jump when his flash suddenly went off in front of them. Claire shrieked. Sirius held her hand to keep her from jumping up.
The Muggle photographer apologised for startling them. "Would you like your picture taken?" he asked. "It is Polaroid and only takes a minute. And I'll make you a special price since I almost blinded you."
Sirius searched for spare Muggle change in the pockets of his leather jacket and passed it to the man, who pointed the small black box at them and said "Cheese". It was ridiculous enough to make Claire smile. He then pulled a black square out from the box, tore a slip off it and passed it to Sirius.
"Have a nice day, folks!"
Laurel watched him make his tour around the square while Sirius waved the black square like he had see the Muggles next to them do.
"He said Cheese." Claire frowned. "Was that a spell to take the picture?"
Sirius shrugged. "I am not sure. I really only understand half of the Muggle world. It is very complicated with all their machines."
They looked at the picture that had manifested on the black square. Claire saw herself, smiling, a soft breeze lifting her hair. Sirius had his arms around her. They looked like a true Muggle couple. They looked happy.
"It is damaged." Claire tapped the picture with her finger. "It does not move."
Sirius laughed. "Muggle pictures never move," he explained and slipped the photo into his pocket. "They catch only one moment in time."
* * *
Exhausted from all the wonders of the Muggle world they arrived back at the entrance of the Leaking Cauldron in Charing Cross Road, with just enough time to change into their robes behind a magical curtain Sirius conjured in a door entrance.
Sirius looked up at the house across the street while Claire attempted to bring some order to her braids. Up there was the flat where Laurel had spent her exile in London. And from the window on the fourth floor Severus had Apparated them both back to Hogwarts.
"No easy task with a poisoned wand stuck in his shoulder," he grudgingly admitted to himself.
"Shall we go?"
Claire smiled at him regally, every inch a noble-witch. She wore a bottle- green robe that screamed money and matched awfully with his turquoise outfit.
He shrugged. "People will throw up when they see us together."
"As long as it isn't me who throws up this time …"
He chuckled and pressed her hand. "Everything will be fine, you'll see."
Malfoy waited for them in front of Gringott's. He wore impeccable grey, his fair hair cut short and businesslike. His mouth twitched when he took in Sirius' robes, but then a flicker of frustration showed on his face. Why couldn't he remember the wizards features? He prided himself in having a great memory for faces, never forgot one, but he would have passed by Sirius White on the street without any recollection. On the other hand, White was not worth remembering anyway. Claire Winterstorm and her fortune were to precious a prize to be wasted to a peacock like White, pure blood or not. Sooner or later they'd have to get rid of him. Preferably sooner ...
He stepped down the stairs and laid a hand on Claire's arm in greeting.
"My dear Claire, I may call you Claire, don't I?"
She gave him a cool smile. "If you like … Lucius."
"I asked you to this rather unusual meeting place to show you two things. Both are to be evidence of our Lord's power and of my sincere wish to make you one of us."
Claire turned her head and took a look at the busy street. She'd rather just sit in a street café with Sirius and watch people passing by, or take a quick look into the Winterstorm book shop around the corner.
"Am I supposed to see anything around here that will prove Lord Vol …", she coughed, "You-know-who's power?"
"It is only a few steps away." He reached for her hand. "Let me guide you through the crowd." He raised an eyebrow. "Will Mr. White stay here and … continue admiring his reflection in the shop window?"
Claire snapped at Sirius, who pretended to give a start at her cutting voice. "Sweety-pie, we are ready to go!"
"Of course, my honeybun, I am right here!"
The house Malfoy steered them to was all white and plain on the outside. They entered a serene hall filled with sunlight and fresh flowers. Large glass windows opened the view to a pleasant court with a small fountain. Claire saw white-robed nurses levitate patients to benches under a flowering tree. It was June by now, but the tree was covered with white buds like foam.
"Have you ever been here before?" Malfoy asked.
She shook her head. It was a hospital, that much she could see. If only Malfoy were not with then, she could watch the nurses and doctors and learn from them. Since Poppy Pomfrey had offered to give her lessons, she had learned a tremendous lot, and slowly the rather unconscious talent she possessed turned into a craft. Poppy had explained, that until now the talent had used her, but now she had to begin using the talent. She remembered the day she had discovered the gift, the very moment ... Ygor dying on the street in that muggle village, his big head smashed in on one side, his mouth mumbling wordless sounds. Her hands had found their own way, cupping his face, taking away the pain. By the light of the street lamps she could see a trickle of blood from his ear, and his eyelids fluttering, until suddenly his face had turned into a mask. She had caressed his cheek, and it was as if the warmth that left his body, entered her palms and found a way right to her heart. From that day on she had healed, if mostly small injuries the elves had come up for lack of other patients.
"Claire?" Sirius voice was very soft, but firm enough to bring her back from her reveries into the present, where Malfoy talked to a haggard looking nurse.
"This way," the witch announced briskly. "But I warn you. You won't be able to talk to him or anything."
"I know." Malfoy's voice betrayed nothing but sincere worry. "But dear Alfie is my cousin after all, and I see it as my duty to visit him, even if he can't appreciate it."
The nurse unlocked a door and checked the time piece she had clipped to the collar of her robes. "Ten minutes."
„We won't need more," Malfoy smiled politely.
As soon as the nurse had disappeared down the hall, he opened the door and gestured Claire to enter. She took a cautious step into the room. Everything was kept in white, the bed, the chair, the walls, even the tiled floor. It gave the room an eerie look, as if it had no real boundaries. On the bed lay a wizard, and only on second glance Claire recognised him as the young wizard who had cast Imperius on her at Malfoy's house. Prenner's pale eyes were open and he stared into nothingness.
She could not refrain from moving a hand in front of the eyes, and they did not even blink. He seemed awake but not present. Almost like Sirius when he suffered from those spooky attacks he would not explain to her.
"This is what Our Dark Lord chose as Prenner's punishment," remarked Malfoy, his words trembling with pride about his master's power.
"Is he awake? Can he hear us?"
"Somewhere very deep inside his mind there is a person, able to hear anything that is said. But he has absolutely no power. I see this a fit sentence for what he did to you."
Claire thought it cruel and merciless, even though Prenner had tried to rape her. But nobody deserved a sentence like this, to be a prisoner in his own mind, alive and dead at the same time.
"How did he do this?" she asked instead of voicing her disgust about Voldemort's punishment.
"His power is beyond my grasp," explained Malfoy. "All I know is that his touch can remove everything you ever saw or heard from your memory. And without theses words and images you won't be able to communicate with the world. All you can do is exist, but reduced to just one thought, one emotion."
"Incredible fear," Claire whispered.
He beamed at her. "Just imagine what our Lord could do to those who stand in his way!"
"Well, Malfoy, as far as I know he hasn't done anything yet. A few attacks on defenceless targets. A few injured muggles." Dumbledore had given her a list of questions she should try to get answers to, but right now she'd rather cried for the helpless body on that white hospital bed.
"Our Dark Lord needed time to recover from the horrible damage that bitch Lily Potter caused when she shielded the child. Any other wizard would have died but he was able to rebuild his body, his power. A few more months and he will be as powerful as he used to be, even more so. And then …" His eyes lit up. "Then they all will tremble in fear!"
He led Claire out of the room and she was thankful to be alive when he closed the door.
"In fifteen minutes I shall be able to give you another prove of how powerful we are. Until then …"
He looked around searchingly. „Where is your dear husband?"
Claire had no idea.
"Maybe he wandered off in search of a mirror," Malfoy scowled.
Suddenly worried, Claire suggested he'd wait in the lobby while she searched for Sirius. She checked the wizard's room where she scared a few doctors, she asked the nurses, but nobody had seen him. Of course they would not remember him, she thought miserably. As impressive as his face was to her, to others he was neither handsome nor in any way remarkable.
Desperately she entered the courtyard and approached a doctors who hurried through the door with her.
"Excuse me …"
He shook his head. „Sorry, Miss, but I have an emergency over there."
She followed his gaze and saw Sirius cower under the tree in the middle of the yard, two nurses kneeling next to him.
"This is my husband." Claire swallowed anxiously. "What is wrong?"
"I couldn't tell you." The doctor shrugged. "He is suffering from some kind of fit, but I really have no idea what causes it."
Claire did not listen but hurried to Sirius, who lay on the ground curled into a tight ball, his arms covering his head as if he tried to protect himself from some invisible fiend. She did not have to look to know he was biting his lips, muttering words nobody could understand.
She hunched next to him, and pried his hands away from his head. "Sirius," she said firmly. Her voice was gentle but she left no doubt that she wanted him to follow her orders. "Listen to me!"
He moaned. His face was pale as parchment, fine beads of perspiration showed on his forehead.
"Sirius, I want you to open your eyes and look at me."
The doctor held the nurse back who tried to pull Claire away from the patient. "Let her proceed," he muttered. "Don't you feel she is a healer?"
"I want you to open your eyes and look at me!" Claire repeated in a soothing calm voice.
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her, the pupils huge as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
Claire's fingertips brushed over his skin, soft as feathers.
"It is alright," she whispered. "It is alright."
"Not." Sirius all but pushed her back. "Don't touch me now."
She sat back and bit her lips. She had known he'd do this, he had done it before, but it still hurt every time.
"Can you stand up?" She tried to keep her voice calm and impersonal.
"Give me a minute. Just stay away. Please."
The doctor turned to her and shook his head. "That was remarkable, Miss …"
"White," she said automatically.
"I am Dr. Jung. I treat most prisoners in this ward and .."
"Prisoners?" Claire stared at him.
"We call them prisoners for want of a better term. I know you came to visit Mr. Prenner, I saw your company talk to Nurse Howard. Prenner is a prisoner, locked within the walls of his mind."
She shivered. "I guess that describes his condition very well."
"Your husband …"
"I don't know what causes his fits. They only occur once in a while and I haven't discovered the pattern yet."
"Who trained you?" he asked, still impressed by the speedy recovery of the patient, who just now tried to stand without help.
"Poppy Pomfrey," Claire blushed. "I am just an amateur, really. All I do is heal the occasional broken bone. And I can calm Sirius when he …"
"Madam Pomfrey!" The doctor chuckled. „Hear, hear. She is an extraordinary witch, I can tell you that. I have been to Hogwarts only a month ago, but I did not see you there."
"I am not at the school …"
"Claire!"
Lucius crossed the courtyard with wide strides. „We must hurry to keep our next appointment." He threw a condescending gaze at Sirius who held on to the tree and still looked very pale. "Well, you seemed to have found the lost sheep. Now shall we go?"
Claire gave the doctor a smile, apologising for Malfoy's impoliteness, and reached for Sirius's hand, prepared to have him jerk back. But for once he accepted her help, and they left the hospital.
Out on the street again, Sirius recovered very fast.
Claire watched him worriedly. "What happened?" she asked very softly so Malfoy would not hear it.
"Later." Sirius shook his head warningly. Malfoy hurried them down Diagon Alley as if every minute counted.
They passed shops and stalls, and again Claire wished she could just stroll through the busy street and look at the merchandise. She had been to London only once, and she had been very small then, so to her the wonders of Diagon Alley were as exciting as the sights of Muggle London. But Malfoy had grabbed her hand and all but dragged her through a small side street. Eventually he paused at a corner across from Flourish & Blott's and gave her the chance to catch her breath.
"Really, Malfoy, why the hurry?" drawled Sirius.
"Remember I told you I'd prove how efficiently our organisation works?" Malfoy addressed only Claire and ignored Sirius completely. "Now I want to step back into that doorway and watch."
The clock on the tower of Gringott's stroke three times. As soon as the last stroke had died away, a deafening explosion shook the buildings along the street. Screams filled the air, clouds of heavy green smoke crawled out of the ruins of the store that had only seconds ago stood at the other side of the alley.
Claire's eyes widened in shock when she recognised that Flourish & Blott's had just been blown to pieces. And that it was not snow that whirled through the air but shredded parchment. A group of magic-medics came running from St. Mungo's, joining the helpers who tried to rescue survivors from the rubble.
"He … you … did this?" Her voice was toneless.
"Indeed. F & B were a rival firm of yours, weren't they?" Malfoy smirked proudly. „They won't do any business in the next months I assume. Just to prove we can be of use to you as much as you can be of use to us."
"Whose idea?" Sirius demanded. Claire sensed the tension in his body. He had covered her as soon as the explosion went off, and had not let go of her yet, and she did not want him to. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to hide in his embrace forever. Malfoy and his Death Eaters were mad and dangerous, and had just killed several innocents to make a point. She felt sick.
"Whose idea was this … statement?" Sirius repeated.
Malfoy was so immersed in the view of the burning and smoking ruins he did not even look at them. "I wish I could claim this as my idea. But it was Our Lord's second in command, who planned it.."
"I thought you were …" Claire cleared her throat of the tears that threatened to choke her. "I thought you were second in command."
"Oh no, I am just his humble servant. But Peter Pettigrew has sacrificed more than any of us for the cause, and if anybody deserves to sit at his right side, it is Pettigrew."
Claire more felt than heard Sirius breath falter.
"So it was this Pettigrew's idea?" She wanted to hear it again, wanted Malfoy to reassure it.
"It was." Malfoy nodded eagerly. "To let you know how much we'd appreciate your support of our cause."
Sirius felt Claire's body tremble. He tried to calm her by hugging her closer, warming her. Very slowly the panic subsided.
"This was very ... impressive indeed," she said in a cool voice to Malfoy.
But when Sirius met her eyes in the reflection of the window, he knew that now there was a person who hated Pettigrew almost as much as he did.
* * *
The dreaded letter arrived early in the morning by express owl on the day the students were to leave for the summer.
Sirius had not spoken a word through breakfast and stared into his teacup as if he could spot a solution for the muddle with Harry. Claire wished she could offer advice, but although she understood why Harry acted the way he did, she had no idea how to change his mind.
Hesitantly she pushed the scroll towards Sirius. "He says next Saturday."
"Hmm?" Sirius gave a start.
"Malfoy suggests a meeting in London next Saturday."
"In London?"
He took the parchment and studied it. Not even the most suspicious Auror would be able to trip Malfoy up with this invitation to tea at Fortescue's in Diagon Alley.
"I'll inform Dumbledore."
She nodded. „And I'll go shopping. You'll need new robes, since I ruined the pink number you wore last time."
He winced. "Can't I just pick one myself?"
"Serene knows best, believe me." She gave him a teasing smile. "But I'll try to prevent the worst."
"If the pink thing I had to wear was not the worst ..." Sirius shuddered. "But I am not going to let these ridiculous boots anywhere near me ever again."
Claire gathered the mail and turned to leave the breakfast room. Standing in the door, she changed her mind and went back to the table. Before shyness and awkwardness would get the better of her, she gave Sirius a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't be so sad about Harry," she whispered. "Show him that you'll be there, whatever he does."
Then she ran out of the room in a flourish of skirts, the parchments gathered to her breast.
* * *
Later that afternoon Claire, Laurel and Serene walked down the main street of Hogsmeade, chattering merrily, the two Professors exhilarated about the start of the summer holidays.
"I really want to visit my family," Laurel mused and gave a sigh, when they came out of Honeydukes without having to fight their way through a crowd of students craving sweets. "Severus is not happy with the idea, and I am not sure how he'll get along with my folks, but I miss them a lot. And I want him to get a taste of muggle life, just so he can appreciate, what I gave up."
Serene chuckled. "Microwave ovens."
"The Internet."
"Soap operas."
"Cuba libre."
Laurel smirked. "Oh, you can get that at the Three Broomsticks if you ask Rosmerta very nicely."
"Still, you are right. I love it here, don't get me wrong, but there are things I really miss." Serene sighed. "Fashion magazines. And men in jeans and t-shirts."
Claire gazed at them and shook her head. "I have no idea what you are talking about. What is a microwave? And jeans?"
"Jeans are … tight pants," Serene tried to explain. "The thing is, Muggles don't wear robes to cover the pants."
She and Laurel laughed when Claire blushed incredulously.
"Honestly! When you go to London, ask Sirius to take you to wander a bit outside. You'll see it yourself."
" I saw Sirius wear jeans and a leather jacket once, and he is just gorgeous!" Laurel enthused. "So you don't even need to go to London, just make him dress up for you at your house. But may I suggest, you do it in your bedroom ..."
They had arrived at Gladrags, and Laurel rolled her eyes at the sight of the great store. "Do we have to go there? Do I have to go with you? Can't I just wait at the pub?"
Serene grabbed her sleeve mercilessly and drew her through the door. "You come with us! And you won't get out without a new robe, and if I have to hex it onto you myself."
A wizard hurried towards them, face pale, hands trembling. "Miss Kennedy! You give us the honour … again …"
"They hate me," Serene whispered into Claire's ear. "Most of their stuff is so old-fashioned, and I am afraid I told them one time too often."
"You really should open a store yourself, Serene," suggested Claire seriously. "Your taste in fashion is implacable."
"While her taste in men is just sad." Laurel stood next to a rack with plain blue robes.
Serene's face clouded and her eyes turned a very angry green. It was as if she'd caught fire, thought Claire, once more envious about Serene's gorgeous red hair.
"Stop teasing her, Laurel. If she loves not Remus but somebody else, she can't possibly lie to him, can't she?"
Serene turned away from her and pretended to study the fabric of a wizard's robe with a fluffy kneazle collar. "I don't love anybody else," she said very softly.
Claire looked at Laurel for advice, but her friend only shook her head wordlessly. Whatever Serene's problem was, it was apparently not another wizard, but something about Remus, that made her turn him down when he asked her to marry him.
"Now, what do you suggest for Sirius this time," she asked with forced cheerfulness. She really liked Serene and she liked Remus, who was certainly the kindest wizard she knew, and if these two were not made for each other, then she did not know anything about love. Which she didn't, she reminded herself.
"He hated the pink one, so please let it be a blue or green robe this time."
Serene nodded and began to pick robes off the racks and discuss their details and fabric with Claire, while Laurel, obviously bored, took mercy on the clerk and let him show her gloves of thin dragon scale skin. Maybe she could work out a deal with Severus. One week of slave labour in that dungeon lab of his in exchange for a week with her family … It was not really fair, since she loved to help him in the lab, but maybe she could make it sound like she hated it. But then it was almost impossible to deceive Severus, when he did not want to be deceived. She sighed, bought a black pair of gloves and turned to Serene and Claire who had shortened the list to three outfits of tearjerking ugliness.
"I know it insults the eye and makes you want to throw up …" Serene said.
Claire giggled. "I did! I mean, I did throw up on the other robe. The pink one."
When she saw the two witches stare at her, she blushed. "Long story, really." She touched the sleeve of the robe. "It feels odd."
"They make it out of silk dyed with a certain kind of funghi. It gleams in the dark."
Laurel laughed amusedly, and Serene frowned. "I never said it was pretty or I'd want anybody I love to wear it. But it is highly fashionable and indecently expensive, and everyone will expect the husband of Britain's richest witch to wear something like this."
"Now how about this very exclusive creation that just arrived from our branch in Paris," the clerk dared to interfere and presented a black and white striped robe with scarlet fastening. "It is the height of fashion, I assure you, Miss Kennedy."
This evening he'd tell his girlfriend at dinner about his customer from hell, who tore apart all of his robes verbally and today even ran out of the store when he showed her a robe. But now all he could do was stand and stare at the open door where Serene had just disappeared, hand clamped over her mouth.
Laurel and Claire were as thunderstruck as he was. Laurel tried to smile apologetically, grabbed Claire's hand, and ran after Serene.
They found her on the green, hugging her shoulders and rocking gently like a scared child. Laurel kneeled next to her, touched her shoulder very carefully and talked as soothingly and softly as she could.
Serene just whimpered. Claire looked around, but there was nobody who'd see them. She hunched on her heels and placed both hands gently on Serene's temples. Closing her eyes she concentrated and almost immediately the whimpers subsided and Serene's breathing rate became steadier. Laurel watched in awe.
"How did you do this?" she asked softly.
"Does she get migraines often?" Claire asked her.
Laurel shook her head. "I am afraid this is not a migraine. Serene is a clairvoyant. She can see … events."
"See events? You mean she can see the future?" Claire sounded doubtfully. She did not believe in divinations, but she knew it was a huge industry in the Muggle world, and Winterstorm actually had just introduced a very nice set of Tarot cards for the Muggle market.
"She can see the future, or at least one of many possible futures." Laurel sighed. "It is very difficult. I did not believe it either but then … Well, I changed my mind."
In short words she told Claire about Serene's vision of Severus killing Dumbledore, and how it had come to pass without really happening. She left out that Serene had almost killed her in her attempts to change the future.
Serene looked at her with eyes that were almost black. "What I saw then, happened."
"No, it did not. Severus did not kill the Headmaster."
"But he killed somebody who looked like Dumbledore!"
"No." Laurel shook her head. "You changed the future, Serene. I thought about it a lot when Severus was so ill. You actually succeeded, but not by trying to alter the setting. Just by telling Severus, you made him consider how he'd act if your vision ever became reality. So when it happened he was prepared."
Serene gave her a thankful if shaky smile. "I never saw it like that. Thank you. It is horrible to feel so powerless."
"What could you have possibly seen, Serene?" asked Claire. "That robe was awful, I give you that, but ..."
"I saw Sirius in that very robe." Serene did not meet her eyes. "I had this vision before, several times actually, since he arrived at Hogwarts. But I thought I had flashbacks."
"Flashbacks?" Laurel searched in her bag for the chocolate she had bought at Honeydukes and stuffed a truffle into Serene's mouth.
Chewing Serene explained: "Sometimes I can see a person's past, or rather glimpses of it. I thought it had to be a flashback because …" She swallowed and finally looked at Claire, her eyes filled with pity. "I saw him in Azkaban, in that very robe. But since this is a new model, I have seen the future."
* * *
Deeply worried Claire came home and dropped the robes she had bought onto the bed. Her first impulse had been to shred or burn the striped robe that had triggered Serene's vision, but Laurel had held her back.
"Believe me, if Serene sees him in that robe, he'll wear it. Whether you destroy this one or not." So she had bought it, but only to hide it in the back of her wardrobe. If she had anything to say about it, Sirius would never get near that thing.
Almost guiltily she rose from the floor in front of the wardrobe when Sirius entered the bedroom.
"Let me see what you got me," he asked, his face clouded by pretend worry.
"Ehm, Serene said that turquoise will bring out your eyes."
He snorted. "The content of my stomach, rather."
Claire held the robe next to his face. "She is right," she judged. "Of course the robe is awful with all the frills and ribbons, but if it was plain …"
"Can't I just be dressed normally and act really dumb?" Sirius sighed.
"I am afraid not." Claire thought about something else. "We are supposed to meet Malfoy after lunch, aren't we?"
"Right." He shook his head incredulously when he saw the yellow robe with its tiny bells.
"Would you mind if we went earlier and I had a look at London?"
"A look at London?"
"I have never been there and I thought, I could ..."
"Great idea. But we'll have to get you some Muggle clothes."
Claire nodded eagerly. "I can borrow something from Laurel."
"There are so many things I want to show you," Sirius enthused. "I used to live there for almost a year after graduation. Before …"
She knew what he wanted to say. Before the Potters were killed.
"So let's go there real early, and you can take me around before we face Lucius Malfoy again," she said quickly to take his mind off the sad memory.
"Oh, Sirius, by the way," she said without looking at him while she stored away the robes. "Do you by any chance own jeans and a T-shirt?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Only thinking …" She smiled to herself. "Only thinking."
* * *
Claire cleared her throat and tried to stop staring at Sirius who walked next to her in jeans and a black leather jacket, his long black hair tied back into a ponytail. Laurel had been right about London and about Muggle clothes. They were indecently tight, and oh yes, Sirius did look gorgeous ...
He turned and gave her a teasing smile that made her blush violently. "I know what you are doing, Baby."
"I was only looking," she mumbled, embarrassed he had caught her staring at his butt.
Sirius' eyes twinkled. "You may not only look but touch, if you want," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
She hid her face in his jacket. "I am sorry. It is just that I am not used to this kind of dress."
The thin flowered dress she had borrowed from Laurel barely covered her knees. The soft summer breeze stroked the skin on her bare arms and legs. It felt ... good ... sensual.
"Are you sure this is not supposed to be an under-garment?" she asked Sirius and gingerly touched the spot where his T-shirt bared his arm.
"I am positive. They all wear this stuff, just look around us." He let his hand wander to the ribbon that tied her tight braid. "But this dress demands open hair, believe me, I am an expert in this."
He pulled at the ribbon and undid her braid. "Now, that's much better."
Awkwardly Claire touched her open hair. It had to do, and of course Sirius was right, many Muggle women wore their hair like this.
"Now what?" she asked.
Sirius took her for a stroll through the city and took great pleasure in the wonderment he could see in her eyes gazing at shop windows, traffic lights and telephone booths. The only thing she seemed to be genuinely afraid of were the cars.
"They are not allowed on the side-walk," Sirius explained. "And if you want to cross the street, just wait for the green light."
Claire let out a trembling sigh. "Ygor got killed by one of these auto- thingies."
"Ygor? Your ... friend?"
She knew that he had swallowed the word 'slave' and gave him a sad smile. "I ran away from home, when Father told me I was not allowed to return to Hogwarts. Ygor tried to talk me out of it, said it was much too dangerous. But I was so determined. We did not get very far though."
Sirius saw the tears well up in her eyes. Death. He knew the never-mending wound it tore only too well. Again he was lost for words, like so many times when he needed them lately. He had not been able to explain to Harry why he had married, he had not been able to help Remus, and now he could not think of anything to say that would console his wife. It was as if the dark coldness that attacked him so often now, sucked the words out of his mind.
He gently touched Claire's cheek and let her cry for a moment.
She blew her nose and took a deep breath. "It was dark and so I decided to walk under the street-lamps. Then the car came and hit Ygor. It did not even stop. And he died there."
"He protected you." Sirius looked at her with curious intensity.
"Yes. He died for me. But I wanted him to live for me."
Wordlessly they turned away from the busy street and wandered through small side alleys until they reached an open square where buskers showed their talent. Sirius bought two chocolate croissants from a vendor and they joined the audience at the stairs.
Claire watched with joy how the Muggles laughed, talked, read books or simply listened to the musicians. Everybody seemed to have a good time.
"It is Saturday, so it is their day off," explained Sirius. "Don't get the wrong idea about their life. They have to work just like any wizard."
He let a piece of croissant tangle in front of her mouth and pulled it away quickly when Claire tried to take a bite.
"I really don't know," he mused. "After all it would be a gift, and you told me explicitly that you are not fond of gifts."
She blushed. "Just not of ... Well, you know." He was only teasing, but it had been hard enough to talk about it the first time in the forest and she wanted nothing less than go through the same embarrassment again. "This does not count. It is food. You owe me breakfast anyway for buying you that great outfit you are going to wear this afternoon."
"Right. I owe you." He stuffed the croissant into her mouth to silence her, and let his hand wander to the back of her neck where he played with the thin silver chain she wore. Then he bowed closer and whispered into her ear. "One day you'll come to me, and you won't need that trinket to show me what you want. On that day I'll grant you a wish. Anything you want. But until then, no more gifts."
A photographer made them both jump when his flash suddenly went off in front of them. Claire shrieked. Sirius held her hand to keep her from jumping up.
The Muggle photographer apologised for startling them. "Would you like your picture taken?" he asked. "It is Polaroid and only takes a minute. And I'll make you a special price since I almost blinded you."
Sirius searched for spare Muggle change in the pockets of his leather jacket and passed it to the man, who pointed the small black box at them and said "Cheese". It was ridiculous enough to make Claire smile. He then pulled a black square out from the box, tore a slip off it and passed it to Sirius.
"Have a nice day, folks!"
Laurel watched him make his tour around the square while Sirius waved the black square like he had see the Muggles next to them do.
"He said Cheese." Claire frowned. "Was that a spell to take the picture?"
Sirius shrugged. "I am not sure. I really only understand half of the Muggle world. It is very complicated with all their machines."
They looked at the picture that had manifested on the black square. Claire saw herself, smiling, a soft breeze lifting her hair. Sirius had his arms around her. They looked like a true Muggle couple. They looked happy.
"It is damaged." Claire tapped the picture with her finger. "It does not move."
Sirius laughed. "Muggle pictures never move," he explained and slipped the photo into his pocket. "They catch only one moment in time."
* * *
Exhausted from all the wonders of the Muggle world they arrived back at the entrance of the Leaking Cauldron in Charing Cross Road, with just enough time to change into their robes behind a magical curtain Sirius conjured in a door entrance.
Sirius looked up at the house across the street while Claire attempted to bring some order to her braids. Up there was the flat where Laurel had spent her exile in London. And from the window on the fourth floor Severus had Apparated them both back to Hogwarts.
"No easy task with a poisoned wand stuck in his shoulder," he grudgingly admitted to himself.
"Shall we go?"
Claire smiled at him regally, every inch a noble-witch. She wore a bottle- green robe that screamed money and matched awfully with his turquoise outfit.
He shrugged. "People will throw up when they see us together."
"As long as it isn't me who throws up this time …"
He chuckled and pressed her hand. "Everything will be fine, you'll see."
Malfoy waited for them in front of Gringott's. He wore impeccable grey, his fair hair cut short and businesslike. His mouth twitched when he took in Sirius' robes, but then a flicker of frustration showed on his face. Why couldn't he remember the wizards features? He prided himself in having a great memory for faces, never forgot one, but he would have passed by Sirius White on the street without any recollection. On the other hand, White was not worth remembering anyway. Claire Winterstorm and her fortune were to precious a prize to be wasted to a peacock like White, pure blood or not. Sooner or later they'd have to get rid of him. Preferably sooner ...
He stepped down the stairs and laid a hand on Claire's arm in greeting.
"My dear Claire, I may call you Claire, don't I?"
She gave him a cool smile. "If you like … Lucius."
"I asked you to this rather unusual meeting place to show you two things. Both are to be evidence of our Lord's power and of my sincere wish to make you one of us."
Claire turned her head and took a look at the busy street. She'd rather just sit in a street café with Sirius and watch people passing by, or take a quick look into the Winterstorm book shop around the corner.
"Am I supposed to see anything around here that will prove Lord Vol …", she coughed, "You-know-who's power?"
"It is only a few steps away." He reached for her hand. "Let me guide you through the crowd." He raised an eyebrow. "Will Mr. White stay here and … continue admiring his reflection in the shop window?"
Claire snapped at Sirius, who pretended to give a start at her cutting voice. "Sweety-pie, we are ready to go!"
"Of course, my honeybun, I am right here!"
The house Malfoy steered them to was all white and plain on the outside. They entered a serene hall filled with sunlight and fresh flowers. Large glass windows opened the view to a pleasant court with a small fountain. Claire saw white-robed nurses levitate patients to benches under a flowering tree. It was June by now, but the tree was covered with white buds like foam.
"Have you ever been here before?" Malfoy asked.
She shook her head. It was a hospital, that much she could see. If only Malfoy were not with then, she could watch the nurses and doctors and learn from them. Since Poppy Pomfrey had offered to give her lessons, she had learned a tremendous lot, and slowly the rather unconscious talent she possessed turned into a craft. Poppy had explained, that until now the talent had used her, but now she had to begin using the talent. She remembered the day she had discovered the gift, the very moment ... Ygor dying on the street in that muggle village, his big head smashed in on one side, his mouth mumbling wordless sounds. Her hands had found their own way, cupping his face, taking away the pain. By the light of the street lamps she could see a trickle of blood from his ear, and his eyelids fluttering, until suddenly his face had turned into a mask. She had caressed his cheek, and it was as if the warmth that left his body, entered her palms and found a way right to her heart. From that day on she had healed, if mostly small injuries the elves had come up for lack of other patients.
"Claire?" Sirius voice was very soft, but firm enough to bring her back from her reveries into the present, where Malfoy talked to a haggard looking nurse.
"This way," the witch announced briskly. "But I warn you. You won't be able to talk to him or anything."
"I know." Malfoy's voice betrayed nothing but sincere worry. "But dear Alfie is my cousin after all, and I see it as my duty to visit him, even if he can't appreciate it."
The nurse unlocked a door and checked the time piece she had clipped to the collar of her robes. "Ten minutes."
„We won't need more," Malfoy smiled politely.
As soon as the nurse had disappeared down the hall, he opened the door and gestured Claire to enter. She took a cautious step into the room. Everything was kept in white, the bed, the chair, the walls, even the tiled floor. It gave the room an eerie look, as if it had no real boundaries. On the bed lay a wizard, and only on second glance Claire recognised him as the young wizard who had cast Imperius on her at Malfoy's house. Prenner's pale eyes were open and he stared into nothingness.
She could not refrain from moving a hand in front of the eyes, and they did not even blink. He seemed awake but not present. Almost like Sirius when he suffered from those spooky attacks he would not explain to her.
"This is what Our Dark Lord chose as Prenner's punishment," remarked Malfoy, his words trembling with pride about his master's power.
"Is he awake? Can he hear us?"
"Somewhere very deep inside his mind there is a person, able to hear anything that is said. But he has absolutely no power. I see this a fit sentence for what he did to you."
Claire thought it cruel and merciless, even though Prenner had tried to rape her. But nobody deserved a sentence like this, to be a prisoner in his own mind, alive and dead at the same time.
"How did he do this?" she asked instead of voicing her disgust about Voldemort's punishment.
"His power is beyond my grasp," explained Malfoy. "All I know is that his touch can remove everything you ever saw or heard from your memory. And without theses words and images you won't be able to communicate with the world. All you can do is exist, but reduced to just one thought, one emotion."
"Incredible fear," Claire whispered.
He beamed at her. "Just imagine what our Lord could do to those who stand in his way!"
"Well, Malfoy, as far as I know he hasn't done anything yet. A few attacks on defenceless targets. A few injured muggles." Dumbledore had given her a list of questions she should try to get answers to, but right now she'd rather cried for the helpless body on that white hospital bed.
"Our Dark Lord needed time to recover from the horrible damage that bitch Lily Potter caused when she shielded the child. Any other wizard would have died but he was able to rebuild his body, his power. A few more months and he will be as powerful as he used to be, even more so. And then …" His eyes lit up. "Then they all will tremble in fear!"
He led Claire out of the room and she was thankful to be alive when he closed the door.
"In fifteen minutes I shall be able to give you another prove of how powerful we are. Until then …"
He looked around searchingly. „Where is your dear husband?"
Claire had no idea.
"Maybe he wandered off in search of a mirror," Malfoy scowled.
Suddenly worried, Claire suggested he'd wait in the lobby while she searched for Sirius. She checked the wizard's room where she scared a few doctors, she asked the nurses, but nobody had seen him. Of course they would not remember him, she thought miserably. As impressive as his face was to her, to others he was neither handsome nor in any way remarkable.
Desperately she entered the courtyard and approached a doctors who hurried through the door with her.
"Excuse me …"
He shook his head. „Sorry, Miss, but I have an emergency over there."
She followed his gaze and saw Sirius cower under the tree in the middle of the yard, two nurses kneeling next to him.
"This is my husband." Claire swallowed anxiously. "What is wrong?"
"I couldn't tell you." The doctor shrugged. "He is suffering from some kind of fit, but I really have no idea what causes it."
Claire did not listen but hurried to Sirius, who lay on the ground curled into a tight ball, his arms covering his head as if he tried to protect himself from some invisible fiend. She did not have to look to know he was biting his lips, muttering words nobody could understand.
She hunched next to him, and pried his hands away from his head. "Sirius," she said firmly. Her voice was gentle but she left no doubt that she wanted him to follow her orders. "Listen to me!"
He moaned. His face was pale as parchment, fine beads of perspiration showed on his forehead.
"Sirius, I want you to open your eyes and look at me."
The doctor held the nurse back who tried to pull Claire away from the patient. "Let her proceed," he muttered. "Don't you feel she is a healer?"
"I want you to open your eyes and look at me!" Claire repeated in a soothing calm voice.
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her, the pupils huge as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
Claire's fingertips brushed over his skin, soft as feathers.
"It is alright," she whispered. "It is alright."
"Not." Sirius all but pushed her back. "Don't touch me now."
She sat back and bit her lips. She had known he'd do this, he had done it before, but it still hurt every time.
"Can you stand up?" She tried to keep her voice calm and impersonal.
"Give me a minute. Just stay away. Please."
The doctor turned to her and shook his head. "That was remarkable, Miss …"
"White," she said automatically.
"I am Dr. Jung. I treat most prisoners in this ward and .."
"Prisoners?" Claire stared at him.
"We call them prisoners for want of a better term. I know you came to visit Mr. Prenner, I saw your company talk to Nurse Howard. Prenner is a prisoner, locked within the walls of his mind."
She shivered. "I guess that describes his condition very well."
"Your husband …"
"I don't know what causes his fits. They only occur once in a while and I haven't discovered the pattern yet."
"Who trained you?" he asked, still impressed by the speedy recovery of the patient, who just now tried to stand without help.
"Poppy Pomfrey," Claire blushed. "I am just an amateur, really. All I do is heal the occasional broken bone. And I can calm Sirius when he …"
"Madam Pomfrey!" The doctor chuckled. „Hear, hear. She is an extraordinary witch, I can tell you that. I have been to Hogwarts only a month ago, but I did not see you there."
"I am not at the school …"
"Claire!"
Lucius crossed the courtyard with wide strides. „We must hurry to keep our next appointment." He threw a condescending gaze at Sirius who held on to the tree and still looked very pale. "Well, you seemed to have found the lost sheep. Now shall we go?"
Claire gave the doctor a smile, apologising for Malfoy's impoliteness, and reached for Sirius's hand, prepared to have him jerk back. But for once he accepted her help, and they left the hospital.
Out on the street again, Sirius recovered very fast.
Claire watched him worriedly. "What happened?" she asked very softly so Malfoy would not hear it.
"Later." Sirius shook his head warningly. Malfoy hurried them down Diagon Alley as if every minute counted.
They passed shops and stalls, and again Claire wished she could just stroll through the busy street and look at the merchandise. She had been to London only once, and she had been very small then, so to her the wonders of Diagon Alley were as exciting as the sights of Muggle London. But Malfoy had grabbed her hand and all but dragged her through a small side street. Eventually he paused at a corner across from Flourish & Blott's and gave her the chance to catch her breath.
"Really, Malfoy, why the hurry?" drawled Sirius.
"Remember I told you I'd prove how efficiently our organisation works?" Malfoy addressed only Claire and ignored Sirius completely. "Now I want to step back into that doorway and watch."
The clock on the tower of Gringott's stroke three times. As soon as the last stroke had died away, a deafening explosion shook the buildings along the street. Screams filled the air, clouds of heavy green smoke crawled out of the ruins of the store that had only seconds ago stood at the other side of the alley.
Claire's eyes widened in shock when she recognised that Flourish & Blott's had just been blown to pieces. And that it was not snow that whirled through the air but shredded parchment. A group of magic-medics came running from St. Mungo's, joining the helpers who tried to rescue survivors from the rubble.
"He … you … did this?" Her voice was toneless.
"Indeed. F & B were a rival firm of yours, weren't they?" Malfoy smirked proudly. „They won't do any business in the next months I assume. Just to prove we can be of use to you as much as you can be of use to us."
"Whose idea?" Sirius demanded. Claire sensed the tension in his body. He had covered her as soon as the explosion went off, and had not let go of her yet, and she did not want him to. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to hide in his embrace forever. Malfoy and his Death Eaters were mad and dangerous, and had just killed several innocents to make a point. She felt sick.
"Whose idea was this … statement?" Sirius repeated.
Malfoy was so immersed in the view of the burning and smoking ruins he did not even look at them. "I wish I could claim this as my idea. But it was Our Lord's second in command, who planned it.."
"I thought you were …" Claire cleared her throat of the tears that threatened to choke her. "I thought you were second in command."
"Oh no, I am just his humble servant. But Peter Pettigrew has sacrificed more than any of us for the cause, and if anybody deserves to sit at his right side, it is Pettigrew."
Claire more felt than heard Sirius breath falter.
"So it was this Pettigrew's idea?" She wanted to hear it again, wanted Malfoy to reassure it.
"It was." Malfoy nodded eagerly. "To let you know how much we'd appreciate your support of our cause."
Sirius felt Claire's body tremble. He tried to calm her by hugging her closer, warming her. Very slowly the panic subsided.
"This was very ... impressive indeed," she said in a cool voice to Malfoy.
But when Sirius met her eyes in the reflection of the window, he knew that now there was a person who hated Pettigrew almost as much as he did.
* * *