13. Revelations and Errors
Dumbledore bowed his head to get through the low door to the platform on top of the Astronomy Tower. He knew that the students thought he was omniscient, but actually he was just very attentive and had years - oh so many years, he sighed silently - of experience. But he not seen this coming.
Sirius sat on his favourite place, dangerously close to the edge, and stared into the sunset. It would have been a quite romantic sight, but his face told nothing of such warm feelings.
When he heard Dumbledore's steps, he did not turn.
The Headmaster sat down next to the younger wizard. "So it is true?"
"Yes." Sirius' voice made it plain that he had no intention to talk about whatever distressed him.
Dumbledore who had outsilenced wizards much more experienced than Sirius, took his time and let his gaze wander over the school grounds. On the Quidditch pitch a practice session was on. He'd have to have a word with the team captains not to play after dawn. The magical fires that lightened the field were so bright, the centaurs of the Forbidden Forrest had already complained they made it impossible to watch the stars.
"I told you in the beginning I was not the right man to guard Claire."
"You did, didn't you."
Sirius turned his head and Dumbledore saw with worry, how drawn he looked. "And I was right."
"That remains to be seen."
"No." Sirius spoke through gritted teeth. "That was made clear today."
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"No."
Dumbledore sighed. "Listen Sirius, in every marriage there are times of misunderstanding. All lovers fight once in a while. But that doesn't mean …"
"No."
His tension was almost palpable, and hadn't Dumbledore known him so well, he'd put an arm around his hunched shoulders to comfort him.
"My dear boy," the Headmaster said softly, "why is that you think you are the only person in the world who has to be strong all the time?"
Sirius tensed even more. His fingers tug into his knees so hard that his knuckles paled. For a long time he remained silent. When he finally spoke, he did not address the Headmaster but rather the last remains of the sun on the horizon. "When I was a boy we had this glass vase standing in the living room. It was beautiful and very old, I guess. I loved it when the sunlight fell through it because the glass changed the colour of the light that danced on the floor. One day I saw a tiny little crack in the glass, so small you would only notice it if you looked very closely. I touched it and the vase shattered." His voice broke. "Just one tiny crack, and it came apart."
He rose abruptly and turned away, so the Headmaster would not see his face. "Do you mind if I move into my old quarters for a while?"
"As long as you want, child. As long as you need."
* * *
It was easy to see that Claire had been crying all night. Her eyes were red- rimmed and she looked as if she was nursing a bad headache. Therefore the first thing Dumbledore did after he'd offered her a seat, was sending one of the House Elves to Madam Pomfrey to fetch a potion.
He poured a small quantity of the bitter liquid into a cup of hot tea and urged Claire to drink it. The effect was immediate, and Claire relaxed a little.
"I am sorry to bother you, Headmaster, but I … I did something dreadfully wrong …"
The old wizard sighed. "Ah Claire … What am I going to do with you and that stubborn fool you have as a husband …"
"It is my fault," she said softly and took another sip of potion-laced tea. "I hurt him. Of course he has a right to be upset because I did not tell him about the book and the …", she blushed, "the baby."
"A baby?" Dumbledore beamed with joy. His blue eyes sparkled at the good news. "The two of you will have a child? How very delightful!" Slowly the smile faded and he rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "Now I understand why he is so angry."
"Do you?" Claire asked with unveiled bitterness. "Have the kindness to explain it to me. Because I don't."
The Headmaster rose and went to one of the large chests at one side of the room. He almost disappeared into one drawer that was filled with paper and parchment scrolls. Claire remembered how he had put her file there when her father came to take her on the last day of school, so this must be where he kept all the student's files and ledgers. The chest had to be magical since Hogwarts admitted about a hundred students every year, and with a school history of more than one-thousand years there should have been a considerable amount of paper. After some grumbling and shovelling, Dumbledore dug out an envelope, yellowed with age, and put it into his sleeve.
He sat down by the fireplace and patted the seat next to him. "Sit down, dear girl." Studying her face with a gently smile, he offered her a bowl with almond fudge. "I had no idea about your condition. The last months have been rather busy and I guess I just don't pay enough attention to every one of you."
She shook her head. "You always have an open ear for us, Headmaster."
"Won't you call me Albus at last, Claire?" he suggested kindly.
"I … well, yes, Headmaster … I mean Al…" Her tongue refused the name, so she resorted to telling him about Sirius' reaction when he discovered the truth about the book.
"You should have seen him. As if I had stabbed a knife right into his heart." She covered her face with both hands and kept silent for a moment. "I mean, it is just a book."
Dumbledore reached out and gently pried her hands off her face. "Before you go on blaming yourself for what happened, I need to show you something. Maybe then you'll understand."
He led her to the chamber at the back of the study. Windowless and narrow, it was little more than a wardrobe, and the only thing in it was a shallow stone basin. Although there was no lamp in the room, the content of the basin shone brightly.
Claire frowned. "This is a pensieve, isn't it? Sirius and Remus gave Harry one for his birthday."
Dumbledore arched a bushy eyebrow. "That's quite an unusual gift for a sixteen year old. If I remember correctly I got a new quill and a pair of socks. But Harry is an unusual boy after all …" He cleared his throat. "I used to think that I'd betray Severus' trust in me if I told Laurel about his past and the events that made him the wizard he is today. But that lack of information caused so much pain and distress that I changed my mind. There are things you need to know about Sirius." And with that he gave her a surprisingly strong push, and she fell head-over into the pensieve.
Claire closed her eyes for a moment to get a clear head. The walls of the chamber had vanished, and so had the whole castle. The air was colder than it was around Hogwarts, there was a chain of mountains to the west, and the trees on the mountain side were bare of leaves. She was standing next to Dumbledore, who ignored her completely. And then she recognised that this was not the Dumbledore she knew, but rather the Dumbledore of her childhood or even younger. Around them stood a crowd of solemn faced wizards and witches she did not know.
Claire heard somebody blow a sad melody on a Ffron, a horn made out of the tail of the Horntail Dragon. It was an ancient instrument, rarely heard except at funerals.
Suddenly she recognised that they were indeed standing at a grave yard. In front of them was an open grave, piled with flowers and wreaths.. A representative of the Ministry stood at one side of the grave, holding a velvet pillow with a golden star on it, the Order of the Star, second class.
Loud sobs were the only sound beside the tunes of the Ffron, and when the melody ended, Claire could see that the pitiful noise came from a black robed woman who was the only one sitting - or rather cringing on a chair next to the grave.
A which behind Dumbledore whispered to her friend that Black's widow had not ceased crying since she'd got the news about her husband's death three days ago.
Claire frowned. Could this be possible? Had Dumbledore take her with him into his memory of the funeral of Sirius' father? What did he want her to see, she wondered.
Friends and relatives of the dead Auror stepped forward and said their good- byes. Some of them tried to hug Cassie Black, tried to offer her comfort, but she pushed them away violently only to sink back into her well of tears. Eventually it was Dumbledore's turn.
He stood by the grave, and Claire was close enough to hear what he said. "Travel in peace, old friend." The old wizards voice was steady and calm. "As this life is not the beginning, this death is not the end."
He turned away and looked at the crying woman who was clinging to her chair. Not even trying to get through to her, he passed her by and instead hunched down to address the little boy standing behind the chair.
Claire's breath hitched in her throat. It was Sirius at age five or six, and he looked just like on the picture in the Daily Prophet. She could only hope her baby was a boy and resembled his father with his dark hair and bright blue eyes. He'd had curls than …
She found it hard to tear her eyes off Sirius who frowned at the strange wizard who talked to him as if he was a grown up. Which in Sirius' mind he was - she only needed to look at the way he held his arms around his brothers protectively. The twins did not really understand what was going on and he had them play with their toy wands, while Reggie kept staring at his mother who ignored the children completely.
Dumbledore nodded and rose and Claire found she had not heard a word he said to the boy. But Sirius looked up at the Headmaster with an expression far too serious for a child his age. Dumbledore offered him his hand and he shook it, a solemn gesture like a vow. Then he bowed down to wipe snot off his brother's grimy face.
Suddenly Claire felt a hand on her shoulder and when she turned she saw Dumbledore, the Dumbledore of her present time. Come back, he mouthed, and she reached out and let him pull her out of the basin. It felt like going too fast on a swing and doing a summersault, but when she opened her eyes a second later she stood where she had stood before, in front of the Pensieve.
The Headmaster offered her a hand to steady her, and led her back to the chair by the fireplace. He fussed a bit about the fact he'd forgotten she was pregnant, and assured her that a dip into the Pensieve would not do the unborn child any harm.
She smirked. "When I was little it wouldn't take more than two summersaults to make me sick. So pregnant or not, I can't really enjoy these things." She leaned forward and warmed her hands at the fire. Dumbledore remained silent, and for a while looked as if he had fallen asleep.
Claire cleared her throat." What did you tell Sirius then?"
He sighed with such pain that Claire instinctively reached out for his hand.
"I may have made a mistake, and it is quite possible that you have to suffer the consequences of my careless words."
Claire frowned. "Are you trying to say Sirius is overreacting the way he does because of something you said some 30 years ago? What in the world could you have told a little boy at his father's funeral?"
"I told him he was responsible for his brothers now, since his mother was obviously neither willing nor able to care for them." Dumbledore polished his glasses although they were magical and never really needed any polishing. "I only wanted to give him something to hold on for a few days. Who could have guessed that Cassie Black would wrap her grieve around her like a cloak and never let go of it again?"
"You mean she stayed like this? Crying? Not taking any notice of the world around her?"
He nodded sadly. "She locked herself into a room and stayed there for the rest of her life, surrounded with pictures of the man she'd loved."
"But … the boys?"
Dumbledore reached into his sleeve and pulled out the envelope. "Six years later the Deputy Headmaster came into my office, so excited he almost fainted. Something had happened, something unrecalled in the history of this school. For the very first time a student had reclined his invitation to Hogwarts."
Claire stared at the letter he passed her. "Dear Professor Flamel" she read aloud.
"My friend Nicolas was Deputy Headmaster then," explained Dumbledore. "Like Minerva today he was responsible for mailing off the invitation letters the magical quill wrote."
"Thank you for the letter," Claire continued. The handwriting was dreadful and every second word was spelled wrong. "But I am too busy to go to school right now. Sorry. Sincerely, Sirius Black." She shook her head and did not know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.
"He actually refused to come to Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore nodded weakly. "I went to their house in Wales and found that he was the one who cared for his brothers. He cleaned the house, he did the laundry, and he cooked - actually they lived of sandwiches, I recall. He made sure the boys went to school, and he protected them, even if that meant he had to beat up another bully every other day. There was no other wizard family in the village where they lived, so Sirius had to cover not only that there was nobody to care for them, but also that they were wizard folk.. He brought the meals on a tray to their mothers room and she never even took notice he was there." Dumbledore took the letter out of Claire's hands, folded it carefully and put it back into the envelope. "I contacted the Ministry, and they transferred the house to Hogsmeade and found a nice witch who took care of the younger ones while Sirius attended school in Hogwarts. She was very kind, but Sirius would still sneak out of the castle every night to see his brothers. I guess that's how he found all the secret passages. After three years we had them all here, and Cassie Black did not even know about it. All she did was sit and stare at the pictures of her husband."
"That's why he is so protective of everybody?" Claire wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Because he had to?"
"Because he doesn't know it any other way. Responsibility is a virtue for a grown wizard, but for a five year old boy it is a dreadful burden. He was only a year older than Regulus and still he felt he had to care for him and protect him."
"But then … here at school … I remember him. He seemed so carefree."
"He always watched his brothers from the corner of his eyes, but yes, you are right. For the first time he was carefree. For the first time he could be young, a child. I guess that's why he loved James and Remus so much. Although Remus suffered from Lycanthropy he'd insist that he needn't be looked after. A fiercely independent boy. And James … well James had no fear in the world. He could conquer all. For the first time Sirius had friends, friends who'd let him be one of them. Who cared for him if needed."
Fawkes woke up and whistled excitedly when he saw Claire. Hopping up and down on his perch he tried to make her notice him until she stood up and lifted him off the perch. Crooning he snuggled his head to her shoulder. She returned to her seat by the fire, the heavy phoenix in her arms.
"I still don't understand why he reacted the way he did. It had nothing to do with his family."
"You are his family now," said Dumbledore slowly and Claire forgot to pet the phoenix, so serious was his voice. "You and Harry. If Sirius has learned one thing as a child, it is that he is the one who has to be strong. He would never allow himself a moment of weakness."
Claire's mouth twitched doubtfully.
"Sirius? Sirius is not weak. He is a rock. He'd never …." She paled. Fawkes felt her sudden pain and started to whistle worriedly. " Maybe you are right. He showed weakness. Just once … the night when he told me the first story." Desperately she remembered the moment he'd broken down and surrendered to her embrace. "He was weak. And now he thinks I sold him for that?"
"Dear girl, let what I told you not mislead you! I wanted you to know about Sirius' past so you would not feel so guilty." His lovely blue eyes met hers. "Neither of you has much experience with relationships. You never had to beg your parents for anything, am I right? You got love in abundance."
She nodded silently.
"And Sirius never begged his mother for affection because he knew he wouldn't get it anyway. So be patient. Ask his forgiveness for the mistake you made. And hopefully he'll learn in time that he can ask you for the love he needs, without fear of rejection."
Claire rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I'd do anything to have him back," she admitted. "not just because I want my baby to grow up with a father. For me." Tears streamed down her face and she didn't even try to hold them back. "I know it is selfish, but I want him back for me."
Dumbledore smiled kindly and passed her a handkerchief.
"All things will fall into place," he comforted her softly. "You'll see."
"Don't you ever get annoyed when everybody in Hogwarts bothers you with their petty problems?" she sobbed and blew her nose.
"Petty problems?" He cupped her chin and gently urged her to look at him. "You all are my children in a way. I saw you come here, so very young and fragile, and I saw you grow up. If you get hurt, I ache as well. I want you to be happy, and I want those in my care to be whole and safe. So don't hesitate to come to me."
"Thank you."
"Why don't you gather all your courage and go to Sirius' quarters? His last class should be over in half an hour. Maybe the two of you can talk it out."
Her shaky smile told him that she'd try at least - and this was all he wanted.
"Claire?" The Headmaster called her when she was almost out of the door. "One more thing."
"Yes?"
"There will be no more meeting with Voldemort now that you are with child."
Her eyes widened. "But …"
Dumbledore made it clear that he'd not allow a discussion in this matter. "It is too dangerous. We shall have to find an excuse Malfoy will buy. Promise me you won't answer any invitation to meet the Dark Lord in person."
* * *
Claire knocked shyly at Sirius' door. When no answer came, she waited for a few minutes, and when Sirius didn't show up, she simply turned the knob and entered. Sirius' door would never be locked, just like the doors in her own house.
The room was bare of any decoration. Claire took in the sparse furniture, the narrow bed, the open window. Sirius had moved into Winterstorm Manor with just a few clothes in a bag and a large box of books. It was obvious that he didn't keep any more possessions here at Hogwarts. There had not been much time in his life to gather material things, Claire thought when she sat down at the edge of the bed. She knew he was not poor because the few galleons that had been in his vault by the time of his arrest must have amassed some interest. And he had access to that money, because at Gringotts nobody really cared whether you were a escaped murderer from Azkaban as long as you got the key to your vault.
But he owned neither pictures nor any other souvenirs of his past.
Gently she let a finger trail over the pillow, then she picked it up and breathed in the scent she loved so much. Last night she'd slept in Sirius' bedroom in her house, just to have the feeling he was present somehow.
When she looked at her watch, the fireplace suddenly coughed, and a small cloud of sod escaped. Claire jumped up - only so see one of her own house- elves step out of the fire.
"Peagreen!"
The elf shrieked. "Miss Claire! What is you doing here?"
"Well, I could ask you the same."
Peagreen's bulging eyes popped out even more. "I … there is … he," she stuttered, only to bang her head against the poster of the bed at the next moment. "Peagreen is a very bad elf … very very very bad!"
Claire grabbed the little creatures shoulder. "Stop that! Just tell me what you are doing in Hogwarts."
"Peagreen is oh so bad," the elf sobbed and clasped her hands over her belly. "But Peagreen is not understanding."
Claire picked her up and sat her onto the bed. When the elf had cried for a while and raked her green hair until it stood up in spikes, she asked again.
"Sweetie, what are you doing here?"
"You is my mistress, Miss Claire," Peagreen sniffed. "You is always my mistress. But your Sirius … he is Peagreen's friend."
"But that's alright," Claire assured her. "I am glad you like him now."
"Elves does not understand wizard folk. You always does fight and make up and fight and make up."
"Oh Peagreen," her mistress sighed. "I wish I would understand it myself. But I don't either."
"He has very sad, very much pain, your Sirius," exclaimed the elf. "Like when Peagreen get hit on the head once by the hippogriff."
Sebastian Winterstorm had once got a hippogriff as a present from a foreign business partner, and the arrogant animal had become the scourge of the elves. Eventually Claire's father had been forced to give the hippogriff to a magical animal wildlife resort in Sherwood forest.
"He does very unhappy," Peagreen continued. "That makes us think why not bring him something to makes him happy."
She dug out a small bundle of cloth from under her shirt. When she unfolded it, Claire recognised her favourite silk scarf.
"Why this?" she asked astonished.
"He want something of you," sniffed Peagreen. "Something to remember."
Claire swallowed hard. Then she folded the scarf neatly and put it under the pillow, suddenly feeling almost dizzy with relief. She still meant something to him. Maybe Sirius did not love her, but he missed her and for the moment this was all she needed to go on.
She patted Peagreen's head. "You did very well, little one. I am proud of you. Now I want you to go fetch a few more things." She explained in detail what she wanted the elf to bring and where to put it. When Peagreen had hurried into the fireplace and disappeared in a blaze of green flames, Claire sighed and left the room as well - through the door, like any common squib.
On her way home through the forest she never noticed the black dog who followed her in a distance, and watched every step she took. But the huge spider that was on the ambush in a particularly dark stretch of underwood decided at the threatening growl that a fight with the dog was not worth it.
When Claire got into Hogsmeade the dog made his way through the sideways and lay in hiding until he saw her enter the house. The light in the office upstairs went on and the dog stared up at the light for hours, until he decided it was time to return to Hogwarts.
When Sirius entered his quarters, he shrunk back in surprise. The bed was covered with a throw in soft colours now, there was a bowl with grapes on the mantelpiece and a bunch of garden flowers in a pretty vase on the side table. Under the pillow he noticed something colourful, and when he removed the pillow, found the scarf. Burying his face in the silky material he took in the faint scent of Claire. And that's how he fell asleep.
* * *
The next day Sirius fought his inner demons all day long. In the late afternoon he won. An hour later he stood in front of Winterstorm Manor, ready to listen to Claire's explanation. A voice deep in his heart prayed that her publishing his stories had been just a mistake indeed. And about the baby ... About the baby they'd have to talk. No matter how things between and Claire turned out - he did not intent to let his child grow up without a father. Or more accurately - not without him as his father.
He knocked and knew something was wrong the moment Kiki opened the door. The only elf he was friendly with used to be Peagreen, so from the way Kiki ran to him and hugged his knees, sobbing with relief, he could only expect the worst.
Hearing Kiki's weeping, the other elves came from the kitchen.
Sirius entered the hall somewhat awkwardly with Kiki still holding on to him.
"What happened?" he asked and all the elves started to talk simultaneously.
He raised a hand. "Shush! Coco, tell me what happened."
The elf wrung her hands. "Miss Claire ... she go to the bad wizard. She goes all alone, without her Sirius!"
Sirius paled. Stubborn stupid woman, he thought, when cold fear began to seep into his heart. She'd gone to Malfoy all alone. His fear got worse when he read the letter Peagreen brought from the study. Lucius Malfoy invited Claire to meet the Dark Master's second in command and attend a special ceremony. Pettigrew, Sirius thought and stuffed the letter into his sleeve. If Malfoy took Claire to Pettigrew, chances were she'd be presented to Voldemort himself as well. He had to find her, and fast.
"Where did she go?" he demanded.
"We does not know. The bad wizard takes her on the broom. They fly south." Coco had started to weep again and her voice was barely audible.
Half an hour later the door to the Potions lab flew open, and Sirius dashed into the dungeon without a word of greeting.
Snape looked up from the cauldron he'd been busy stirring.
"I can't recall begging you to enter," he snarled.
Sirius frowned. "I don't have time for this now, Snape. I need your help."
The Potions master gave him a scowl. "Are we in need of a specific Potion? I don't do love potions, Black. So if you have marital problems, resort to your charm and your blue eyes, will you?" He arched an eyebrow when he saw Sirius black and white striped robe. "Cute outfit, by the way."
"Cut the crap!" Sirius was pale, and he took the ladle out of Snape's hand and threw it into the back of the room.
"Claire is attending a Death Eater's meeting with Pettigrew this very minute. I need to know where these meetings are held, and you are the only one who'd know."
Snape was all attention as soon as he heard what had happened. "Stupid stubborn woman," he muttered under his breath.
"Leave her alone," demanded Sirius, not admitting that he had said the same words only half an hour ago. Yes, she was stubborn and she was stupid, but she was his woman and he was the only one who had the right to say it out loud!
"I can take you to the place where they used to meet a few months ago, and we have to hope they did not find a better location yet," said Snape calmly.
"Just tell me where it is!"
"You wouldn't find it in time." The Potions master went to a chest of drawers and chose a small bottle. Using a piece of linen, he began to dab a black liquid onto his left forearm. The smell was nauseating.
"I bear the Mark, as you well know," he explained without looking at Black. "This stuff will numb the arm for a few hours, so Voldemort can neither call me nor feel my presence through the mark."
"Is this how you resist the summoning?" asked Sirius.
Snape just nodded and put the potion away. His arm hung uselessly down his side. "I'll take that invisibility cloak of Mr Potter's, if you ask him for it," he suggested. "That way I can stay close to you in case help is needed."
Sirius stepped into the fireplace, and returned a few minutes later with the cloak.
"Why this breathtaking outfit?" asked Snape when they left the castle towards the broom shed.
"I was not sure where these meetings are held," shrugged Sirius and chose two brooms that would take them out of the school grounds from where they'd Apparate. "If it is a social affair I should be dressed appropriately."
Snape mounted his broom and scowled. "Oh, you'll fit just fine. The place I am taking you, is a graveyard."
* * *
Laurel stood, frozen with fear, and did not dare to look around her.
When Malfoy had promised a meeting with Peter Pettigrew, she had accepted without thinking, driven by the wish to see the wizard who had killed the Potters and so many innocents, and had ruined the life of the man she loved. But what had sounded like a casual meeting had now turned into a frightening ceremony in a dark graveyard. Dozens of figures in hooded cloaks milled around, all waiting for ...
"What are we waiting for?" she whispered, carefully keeping her voice steady and unimpressed.
"We are waiting for the Dark Lord himself," answered Malfoy.
"Vol ...," she coughed to swallow the rest of the word. "He is coming tonight?"
"I told you this was a special ceremony, didn't I?" Malfoy smiled proudly and Claire thought once again that the wizard was positively insane. "You'll be witness to one of the greatest rituals you may ever experience. And you'll be truly one of us before this evening is over!"
Claire's heart sunk.
A figure stepped out of the shadows behind the crumbled ruins of a chapel. It was a ... no, not a man any more, decided Claire and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. She knew Peter Pettigrew from pictures - but this man bore almost no more resemblance with the chubby balding wizard she'd expected to meet. His nose, ears, and right hand were made of metal, a silvery material, that seemed alive and dead at the same time. Apparently his left foot had been replaced, too, because he limped when he made his way through the graveyard.
Under his arm he carried a bundle.
"What is going to happen?" hissed Claire in Malfoy's direction.
"It is the Resurrection Ritual," he explained softly. "Flesh, bone, and blood."
"I don't understand."
Two of the hooded figures had started to dig in one of the graves and after a while produced a piece of bone - enough to make Claire wretch.
"Bone of the dead," whispered Malfoy. "Peter will provide the flesh, and," he pointed at the bundle that had been placed on a marble head-stone next to a simmering cauldron, "he will provide the blood."
Claire's eyes widened when she recognised that under the cloth lay a child, a very young boy. Not a baby anymore, he couldn't been older than one or two years. He slept or rather was unconscious.
She started to shiver violently.
A voice from the impenetrable darkness behind the ruins made them all jump.
"Again we have gathered," hissed the voice, and a cold wind rose from the ground, "to call onto the Dark Powers. Again we shall give and shall receive."
The hooded figures bowed their heads.
"Those of you, who are new to our congregation, step forward."
Malfoy gave Claire a slight push and she stumbled towards Pettigrew.
"You shall receive my mark, and be a part of me. My eyes and ears, my allies and my spies."
A great snake slithered through the stones and paused at Claire's feet, her forked tongue briefly touching Claire's skin. The snake returned to her master, and silence fell onto the graveyard.
Suddenly Malfoy jerked and approached the chapel as if drawn by invisible strings. "The witch is with child," the voice of darkness hissed. Is it a pure-blooded child?"
Malfoy looked back at Claire, who nodded, pale as death.
"The Dark Mark would kill the baby."
"I am sorry Master," wailed Malfoy, "I had no idea ..."
"Why did you bring her before me?" demanded the voice.
Malfoy went down on both knees. "She is the one who provides the money!" he whispered.
"A pure-blood must not be risked," hissed the darkness. "But she has been a witness to this meeting, so we can't let her go without the Mark."
"Why don't we keep her until the baby is born?" suggested Pettigrew. "Who is the father anyway?"
"Some oaf named White," said Malfoy.
"We shall keep her with us then," decided the voice. "And once the child is not endangered anymore, she'll receive the Mark."
Claire heard the words and almost fainted. To remain with Pettigrew and ... Voldemort of all wizards ... was a sure death sentence. How long would it take them to find out she was a squib? Would they kill only her or the baby as well?
Her brain was empty and her heart like ice. Time seemed to slow down to a standstill. And then, through a haze, she heard another voice from the back of the crowd.
"I am the child's father. This witch is my wife. I'll take the Mark in her place."
Dumbledore bowed his head to get through the low door to the platform on top of the Astronomy Tower. He knew that the students thought he was omniscient, but actually he was just very attentive and had years - oh so many years, he sighed silently - of experience. But he not seen this coming.
Sirius sat on his favourite place, dangerously close to the edge, and stared into the sunset. It would have been a quite romantic sight, but his face told nothing of such warm feelings.
When he heard Dumbledore's steps, he did not turn.
The Headmaster sat down next to the younger wizard. "So it is true?"
"Yes." Sirius' voice made it plain that he had no intention to talk about whatever distressed him.
Dumbledore who had outsilenced wizards much more experienced than Sirius, took his time and let his gaze wander over the school grounds. On the Quidditch pitch a practice session was on. He'd have to have a word with the team captains not to play after dawn. The magical fires that lightened the field were so bright, the centaurs of the Forbidden Forrest had already complained they made it impossible to watch the stars.
"I told you in the beginning I was not the right man to guard Claire."
"You did, didn't you."
Sirius turned his head and Dumbledore saw with worry, how drawn he looked. "And I was right."
"That remains to be seen."
"No." Sirius spoke through gritted teeth. "That was made clear today."
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"No."
Dumbledore sighed. "Listen Sirius, in every marriage there are times of misunderstanding. All lovers fight once in a while. But that doesn't mean …"
"No."
His tension was almost palpable, and hadn't Dumbledore known him so well, he'd put an arm around his hunched shoulders to comfort him.
"My dear boy," the Headmaster said softly, "why is that you think you are the only person in the world who has to be strong all the time?"
Sirius tensed even more. His fingers tug into his knees so hard that his knuckles paled. For a long time he remained silent. When he finally spoke, he did not address the Headmaster but rather the last remains of the sun on the horizon. "When I was a boy we had this glass vase standing in the living room. It was beautiful and very old, I guess. I loved it when the sunlight fell through it because the glass changed the colour of the light that danced on the floor. One day I saw a tiny little crack in the glass, so small you would only notice it if you looked very closely. I touched it and the vase shattered." His voice broke. "Just one tiny crack, and it came apart."
He rose abruptly and turned away, so the Headmaster would not see his face. "Do you mind if I move into my old quarters for a while?"
"As long as you want, child. As long as you need."
* * *
It was easy to see that Claire had been crying all night. Her eyes were red- rimmed and she looked as if she was nursing a bad headache. Therefore the first thing Dumbledore did after he'd offered her a seat, was sending one of the House Elves to Madam Pomfrey to fetch a potion.
He poured a small quantity of the bitter liquid into a cup of hot tea and urged Claire to drink it. The effect was immediate, and Claire relaxed a little.
"I am sorry to bother you, Headmaster, but I … I did something dreadfully wrong …"
The old wizard sighed. "Ah Claire … What am I going to do with you and that stubborn fool you have as a husband …"
"It is my fault," she said softly and took another sip of potion-laced tea. "I hurt him. Of course he has a right to be upset because I did not tell him about the book and the …", she blushed, "the baby."
"A baby?" Dumbledore beamed with joy. His blue eyes sparkled at the good news. "The two of you will have a child? How very delightful!" Slowly the smile faded and he rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "Now I understand why he is so angry."
"Do you?" Claire asked with unveiled bitterness. "Have the kindness to explain it to me. Because I don't."
The Headmaster rose and went to one of the large chests at one side of the room. He almost disappeared into one drawer that was filled with paper and parchment scrolls. Claire remembered how he had put her file there when her father came to take her on the last day of school, so this must be where he kept all the student's files and ledgers. The chest had to be magical since Hogwarts admitted about a hundred students every year, and with a school history of more than one-thousand years there should have been a considerable amount of paper. After some grumbling and shovelling, Dumbledore dug out an envelope, yellowed with age, and put it into his sleeve.
He sat down by the fireplace and patted the seat next to him. "Sit down, dear girl." Studying her face with a gently smile, he offered her a bowl with almond fudge. "I had no idea about your condition. The last months have been rather busy and I guess I just don't pay enough attention to every one of you."
She shook her head. "You always have an open ear for us, Headmaster."
"Won't you call me Albus at last, Claire?" he suggested kindly.
"I … well, yes, Headmaster … I mean Al…" Her tongue refused the name, so she resorted to telling him about Sirius' reaction when he discovered the truth about the book.
"You should have seen him. As if I had stabbed a knife right into his heart." She covered her face with both hands and kept silent for a moment. "I mean, it is just a book."
Dumbledore reached out and gently pried her hands off her face. "Before you go on blaming yourself for what happened, I need to show you something. Maybe then you'll understand."
He led her to the chamber at the back of the study. Windowless and narrow, it was little more than a wardrobe, and the only thing in it was a shallow stone basin. Although there was no lamp in the room, the content of the basin shone brightly.
Claire frowned. "This is a pensieve, isn't it? Sirius and Remus gave Harry one for his birthday."
Dumbledore arched a bushy eyebrow. "That's quite an unusual gift for a sixteen year old. If I remember correctly I got a new quill and a pair of socks. But Harry is an unusual boy after all …" He cleared his throat. "I used to think that I'd betray Severus' trust in me if I told Laurel about his past and the events that made him the wizard he is today. But that lack of information caused so much pain and distress that I changed my mind. There are things you need to know about Sirius." And with that he gave her a surprisingly strong push, and she fell head-over into the pensieve.
Claire closed her eyes for a moment to get a clear head. The walls of the chamber had vanished, and so had the whole castle. The air was colder than it was around Hogwarts, there was a chain of mountains to the west, and the trees on the mountain side were bare of leaves. She was standing next to Dumbledore, who ignored her completely. And then she recognised that this was not the Dumbledore she knew, but rather the Dumbledore of her childhood or even younger. Around them stood a crowd of solemn faced wizards and witches she did not know.
Claire heard somebody blow a sad melody on a Ffron, a horn made out of the tail of the Horntail Dragon. It was an ancient instrument, rarely heard except at funerals.
Suddenly she recognised that they were indeed standing at a grave yard. In front of them was an open grave, piled with flowers and wreaths.. A representative of the Ministry stood at one side of the grave, holding a velvet pillow with a golden star on it, the Order of the Star, second class.
Loud sobs were the only sound beside the tunes of the Ffron, and when the melody ended, Claire could see that the pitiful noise came from a black robed woman who was the only one sitting - or rather cringing on a chair next to the grave.
A which behind Dumbledore whispered to her friend that Black's widow had not ceased crying since she'd got the news about her husband's death three days ago.
Claire frowned. Could this be possible? Had Dumbledore take her with him into his memory of the funeral of Sirius' father? What did he want her to see, she wondered.
Friends and relatives of the dead Auror stepped forward and said their good- byes. Some of them tried to hug Cassie Black, tried to offer her comfort, but she pushed them away violently only to sink back into her well of tears. Eventually it was Dumbledore's turn.
He stood by the grave, and Claire was close enough to hear what he said. "Travel in peace, old friend." The old wizards voice was steady and calm. "As this life is not the beginning, this death is not the end."
He turned away and looked at the crying woman who was clinging to her chair. Not even trying to get through to her, he passed her by and instead hunched down to address the little boy standing behind the chair.
Claire's breath hitched in her throat. It was Sirius at age five or six, and he looked just like on the picture in the Daily Prophet. She could only hope her baby was a boy and resembled his father with his dark hair and bright blue eyes. He'd had curls than …
She found it hard to tear her eyes off Sirius who frowned at the strange wizard who talked to him as if he was a grown up. Which in Sirius' mind he was - she only needed to look at the way he held his arms around his brothers protectively. The twins did not really understand what was going on and he had them play with their toy wands, while Reggie kept staring at his mother who ignored the children completely.
Dumbledore nodded and rose and Claire found she had not heard a word he said to the boy. But Sirius looked up at the Headmaster with an expression far too serious for a child his age. Dumbledore offered him his hand and he shook it, a solemn gesture like a vow. Then he bowed down to wipe snot off his brother's grimy face.
Suddenly Claire felt a hand on her shoulder and when she turned she saw Dumbledore, the Dumbledore of her present time. Come back, he mouthed, and she reached out and let him pull her out of the basin. It felt like going too fast on a swing and doing a summersault, but when she opened her eyes a second later she stood where she had stood before, in front of the Pensieve.
The Headmaster offered her a hand to steady her, and led her back to the chair by the fireplace. He fussed a bit about the fact he'd forgotten she was pregnant, and assured her that a dip into the Pensieve would not do the unborn child any harm.
She smirked. "When I was little it wouldn't take more than two summersaults to make me sick. So pregnant or not, I can't really enjoy these things." She leaned forward and warmed her hands at the fire. Dumbledore remained silent, and for a while looked as if he had fallen asleep.
Claire cleared her throat." What did you tell Sirius then?"
He sighed with such pain that Claire instinctively reached out for his hand.
"I may have made a mistake, and it is quite possible that you have to suffer the consequences of my careless words."
Claire frowned. "Are you trying to say Sirius is overreacting the way he does because of something you said some 30 years ago? What in the world could you have told a little boy at his father's funeral?"
"I told him he was responsible for his brothers now, since his mother was obviously neither willing nor able to care for them." Dumbledore polished his glasses although they were magical and never really needed any polishing. "I only wanted to give him something to hold on for a few days. Who could have guessed that Cassie Black would wrap her grieve around her like a cloak and never let go of it again?"
"You mean she stayed like this? Crying? Not taking any notice of the world around her?"
He nodded sadly. "She locked herself into a room and stayed there for the rest of her life, surrounded with pictures of the man she'd loved."
"But … the boys?"
Dumbledore reached into his sleeve and pulled out the envelope. "Six years later the Deputy Headmaster came into my office, so excited he almost fainted. Something had happened, something unrecalled in the history of this school. For the very first time a student had reclined his invitation to Hogwarts."
Claire stared at the letter he passed her. "Dear Professor Flamel" she read aloud.
"My friend Nicolas was Deputy Headmaster then," explained Dumbledore. "Like Minerva today he was responsible for mailing off the invitation letters the magical quill wrote."
"Thank you for the letter," Claire continued. The handwriting was dreadful and every second word was spelled wrong. "But I am too busy to go to school right now. Sorry. Sincerely, Sirius Black." She shook her head and did not know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.
"He actually refused to come to Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore nodded weakly. "I went to their house in Wales and found that he was the one who cared for his brothers. He cleaned the house, he did the laundry, and he cooked - actually they lived of sandwiches, I recall. He made sure the boys went to school, and he protected them, even if that meant he had to beat up another bully every other day. There was no other wizard family in the village where they lived, so Sirius had to cover not only that there was nobody to care for them, but also that they were wizard folk.. He brought the meals on a tray to their mothers room and she never even took notice he was there." Dumbledore took the letter out of Claire's hands, folded it carefully and put it back into the envelope. "I contacted the Ministry, and they transferred the house to Hogsmeade and found a nice witch who took care of the younger ones while Sirius attended school in Hogwarts. She was very kind, but Sirius would still sneak out of the castle every night to see his brothers. I guess that's how he found all the secret passages. After three years we had them all here, and Cassie Black did not even know about it. All she did was sit and stare at the pictures of her husband."
"That's why he is so protective of everybody?" Claire wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Because he had to?"
"Because he doesn't know it any other way. Responsibility is a virtue for a grown wizard, but for a five year old boy it is a dreadful burden. He was only a year older than Regulus and still he felt he had to care for him and protect him."
"But then … here at school … I remember him. He seemed so carefree."
"He always watched his brothers from the corner of his eyes, but yes, you are right. For the first time he was carefree. For the first time he could be young, a child. I guess that's why he loved James and Remus so much. Although Remus suffered from Lycanthropy he'd insist that he needn't be looked after. A fiercely independent boy. And James … well James had no fear in the world. He could conquer all. For the first time Sirius had friends, friends who'd let him be one of them. Who cared for him if needed."
Fawkes woke up and whistled excitedly when he saw Claire. Hopping up and down on his perch he tried to make her notice him until she stood up and lifted him off the perch. Crooning he snuggled his head to her shoulder. She returned to her seat by the fire, the heavy phoenix in her arms.
"I still don't understand why he reacted the way he did. It had nothing to do with his family."
"You are his family now," said Dumbledore slowly and Claire forgot to pet the phoenix, so serious was his voice. "You and Harry. If Sirius has learned one thing as a child, it is that he is the one who has to be strong. He would never allow himself a moment of weakness."
Claire's mouth twitched doubtfully.
"Sirius? Sirius is not weak. He is a rock. He'd never …." She paled. Fawkes felt her sudden pain and started to whistle worriedly. " Maybe you are right. He showed weakness. Just once … the night when he told me the first story." Desperately she remembered the moment he'd broken down and surrendered to her embrace. "He was weak. And now he thinks I sold him for that?"
"Dear girl, let what I told you not mislead you! I wanted you to know about Sirius' past so you would not feel so guilty." His lovely blue eyes met hers. "Neither of you has much experience with relationships. You never had to beg your parents for anything, am I right? You got love in abundance."
She nodded silently.
"And Sirius never begged his mother for affection because he knew he wouldn't get it anyway. So be patient. Ask his forgiveness for the mistake you made. And hopefully he'll learn in time that he can ask you for the love he needs, without fear of rejection."
Claire rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I'd do anything to have him back," she admitted. "not just because I want my baby to grow up with a father. For me." Tears streamed down her face and she didn't even try to hold them back. "I know it is selfish, but I want him back for me."
Dumbledore smiled kindly and passed her a handkerchief.
"All things will fall into place," he comforted her softly. "You'll see."
"Don't you ever get annoyed when everybody in Hogwarts bothers you with their petty problems?" she sobbed and blew her nose.
"Petty problems?" He cupped her chin and gently urged her to look at him. "You all are my children in a way. I saw you come here, so very young and fragile, and I saw you grow up. If you get hurt, I ache as well. I want you to be happy, and I want those in my care to be whole and safe. So don't hesitate to come to me."
"Thank you."
"Why don't you gather all your courage and go to Sirius' quarters? His last class should be over in half an hour. Maybe the two of you can talk it out."
Her shaky smile told him that she'd try at least - and this was all he wanted.
"Claire?" The Headmaster called her when she was almost out of the door. "One more thing."
"Yes?"
"There will be no more meeting with Voldemort now that you are with child."
Her eyes widened. "But …"
Dumbledore made it clear that he'd not allow a discussion in this matter. "It is too dangerous. We shall have to find an excuse Malfoy will buy. Promise me you won't answer any invitation to meet the Dark Lord in person."
* * *
Claire knocked shyly at Sirius' door. When no answer came, she waited for a few minutes, and when Sirius didn't show up, she simply turned the knob and entered. Sirius' door would never be locked, just like the doors in her own house.
The room was bare of any decoration. Claire took in the sparse furniture, the narrow bed, the open window. Sirius had moved into Winterstorm Manor with just a few clothes in a bag and a large box of books. It was obvious that he didn't keep any more possessions here at Hogwarts. There had not been much time in his life to gather material things, Claire thought when she sat down at the edge of the bed. She knew he was not poor because the few galleons that had been in his vault by the time of his arrest must have amassed some interest. And he had access to that money, because at Gringotts nobody really cared whether you were a escaped murderer from Azkaban as long as you got the key to your vault.
But he owned neither pictures nor any other souvenirs of his past.
Gently she let a finger trail over the pillow, then she picked it up and breathed in the scent she loved so much. Last night she'd slept in Sirius' bedroom in her house, just to have the feeling he was present somehow.
When she looked at her watch, the fireplace suddenly coughed, and a small cloud of sod escaped. Claire jumped up - only so see one of her own house- elves step out of the fire.
"Peagreen!"
The elf shrieked. "Miss Claire! What is you doing here?"
"Well, I could ask you the same."
Peagreen's bulging eyes popped out even more. "I … there is … he," she stuttered, only to bang her head against the poster of the bed at the next moment. "Peagreen is a very bad elf … very very very bad!"
Claire grabbed the little creatures shoulder. "Stop that! Just tell me what you are doing in Hogwarts."
"Peagreen is oh so bad," the elf sobbed and clasped her hands over her belly. "But Peagreen is not understanding."
Claire picked her up and sat her onto the bed. When the elf had cried for a while and raked her green hair until it stood up in spikes, she asked again.
"Sweetie, what are you doing here?"
"You is my mistress, Miss Claire," Peagreen sniffed. "You is always my mistress. But your Sirius … he is Peagreen's friend."
"But that's alright," Claire assured her. "I am glad you like him now."
"Elves does not understand wizard folk. You always does fight and make up and fight and make up."
"Oh Peagreen," her mistress sighed. "I wish I would understand it myself. But I don't either."
"He has very sad, very much pain, your Sirius," exclaimed the elf. "Like when Peagreen get hit on the head once by the hippogriff."
Sebastian Winterstorm had once got a hippogriff as a present from a foreign business partner, and the arrogant animal had become the scourge of the elves. Eventually Claire's father had been forced to give the hippogriff to a magical animal wildlife resort in Sherwood forest.
"He does very unhappy," Peagreen continued. "That makes us think why not bring him something to makes him happy."
She dug out a small bundle of cloth from under her shirt. When she unfolded it, Claire recognised her favourite silk scarf.
"Why this?" she asked astonished.
"He want something of you," sniffed Peagreen. "Something to remember."
Claire swallowed hard. Then she folded the scarf neatly and put it under the pillow, suddenly feeling almost dizzy with relief. She still meant something to him. Maybe Sirius did not love her, but he missed her and for the moment this was all she needed to go on.
She patted Peagreen's head. "You did very well, little one. I am proud of you. Now I want you to go fetch a few more things." She explained in detail what she wanted the elf to bring and where to put it. When Peagreen had hurried into the fireplace and disappeared in a blaze of green flames, Claire sighed and left the room as well - through the door, like any common squib.
On her way home through the forest she never noticed the black dog who followed her in a distance, and watched every step she took. But the huge spider that was on the ambush in a particularly dark stretch of underwood decided at the threatening growl that a fight with the dog was not worth it.
When Claire got into Hogsmeade the dog made his way through the sideways and lay in hiding until he saw her enter the house. The light in the office upstairs went on and the dog stared up at the light for hours, until he decided it was time to return to Hogwarts.
When Sirius entered his quarters, he shrunk back in surprise. The bed was covered with a throw in soft colours now, there was a bowl with grapes on the mantelpiece and a bunch of garden flowers in a pretty vase on the side table. Under the pillow he noticed something colourful, and when he removed the pillow, found the scarf. Burying his face in the silky material he took in the faint scent of Claire. And that's how he fell asleep.
* * *
The next day Sirius fought his inner demons all day long. In the late afternoon he won. An hour later he stood in front of Winterstorm Manor, ready to listen to Claire's explanation. A voice deep in his heart prayed that her publishing his stories had been just a mistake indeed. And about the baby ... About the baby they'd have to talk. No matter how things between and Claire turned out - he did not intent to let his child grow up without a father. Or more accurately - not without him as his father.
He knocked and knew something was wrong the moment Kiki opened the door. The only elf he was friendly with used to be Peagreen, so from the way Kiki ran to him and hugged his knees, sobbing with relief, he could only expect the worst.
Hearing Kiki's weeping, the other elves came from the kitchen.
Sirius entered the hall somewhat awkwardly with Kiki still holding on to him.
"What happened?" he asked and all the elves started to talk simultaneously.
He raised a hand. "Shush! Coco, tell me what happened."
The elf wrung her hands. "Miss Claire ... she go to the bad wizard. She goes all alone, without her Sirius!"
Sirius paled. Stubborn stupid woman, he thought, when cold fear began to seep into his heart. She'd gone to Malfoy all alone. His fear got worse when he read the letter Peagreen brought from the study. Lucius Malfoy invited Claire to meet the Dark Master's second in command and attend a special ceremony. Pettigrew, Sirius thought and stuffed the letter into his sleeve. If Malfoy took Claire to Pettigrew, chances were she'd be presented to Voldemort himself as well. He had to find her, and fast.
"Where did she go?" he demanded.
"We does not know. The bad wizard takes her on the broom. They fly south." Coco had started to weep again and her voice was barely audible.
Half an hour later the door to the Potions lab flew open, and Sirius dashed into the dungeon without a word of greeting.
Snape looked up from the cauldron he'd been busy stirring.
"I can't recall begging you to enter," he snarled.
Sirius frowned. "I don't have time for this now, Snape. I need your help."
The Potions master gave him a scowl. "Are we in need of a specific Potion? I don't do love potions, Black. So if you have marital problems, resort to your charm and your blue eyes, will you?" He arched an eyebrow when he saw Sirius black and white striped robe. "Cute outfit, by the way."
"Cut the crap!" Sirius was pale, and he took the ladle out of Snape's hand and threw it into the back of the room.
"Claire is attending a Death Eater's meeting with Pettigrew this very minute. I need to know where these meetings are held, and you are the only one who'd know."
Snape was all attention as soon as he heard what had happened. "Stupid stubborn woman," he muttered under his breath.
"Leave her alone," demanded Sirius, not admitting that he had said the same words only half an hour ago. Yes, she was stubborn and she was stupid, but she was his woman and he was the only one who had the right to say it out loud!
"I can take you to the place where they used to meet a few months ago, and we have to hope they did not find a better location yet," said Snape calmly.
"Just tell me where it is!"
"You wouldn't find it in time." The Potions master went to a chest of drawers and chose a small bottle. Using a piece of linen, he began to dab a black liquid onto his left forearm. The smell was nauseating.
"I bear the Mark, as you well know," he explained without looking at Black. "This stuff will numb the arm for a few hours, so Voldemort can neither call me nor feel my presence through the mark."
"Is this how you resist the summoning?" asked Sirius.
Snape just nodded and put the potion away. His arm hung uselessly down his side. "I'll take that invisibility cloak of Mr Potter's, if you ask him for it," he suggested. "That way I can stay close to you in case help is needed."
Sirius stepped into the fireplace, and returned a few minutes later with the cloak.
"Why this breathtaking outfit?" asked Snape when they left the castle towards the broom shed.
"I was not sure where these meetings are held," shrugged Sirius and chose two brooms that would take them out of the school grounds from where they'd Apparate. "If it is a social affair I should be dressed appropriately."
Snape mounted his broom and scowled. "Oh, you'll fit just fine. The place I am taking you, is a graveyard."
* * *
Laurel stood, frozen with fear, and did not dare to look around her.
When Malfoy had promised a meeting with Peter Pettigrew, she had accepted without thinking, driven by the wish to see the wizard who had killed the Potters and so many innocents, and had ruined the life of the man she loved. But what had sounded like a casual meeting had now turned into a frightening ceremony in a dark graveyard. Dozens of figures in hooded cloaks milled around, all waiting for ...
"What are we waiting for?" she whispered, carefully keeping her voice steady and unimpressed.
"We are waiting for the Dark Lord himself," answered Malfoy.
"Vol ...," she coughed to swallow the rest of the word. "He is coming tonight?"
"I told you this was a special ceremony, didn't I?" Malfoy smiled proudly and Claire thought once again that the wizard was positively insane. "You'll be witness to one of the greatest rituals you may ever experience. And you'll be truly one of us before this evening is over!"
Claire's heart sunk.
A figure stepped out of the shadows behind the crumbled ruins of a chapel. It was a ... no, not a man any more, decided Claire and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. She knew Peter Pettigrew from pictures - but this man bore almost no more resemblance with the chubby balding wizard she'd expected to meet. His nose, ears, and right hand were made of metal, a silvery material, that seemed alive and dead at the same time. Apparently his left foot had been replaced, too, because he limped when he made his way through the graveyard.
Under his arm he carried a bundle.
"What is going to happen?" hissed Claire in Malfoy's direction.
"It is the Resurrection Ritual," he explained softly. "Flesh, bone, and blood."
"I don't understand."
Two of the hooded figures had started to dig in one of the graves and after a while produced a piece of bone - enough to make Claire wretch.
"Bone of the dead," whispered Malfoy. "Peter will provide the flesh, and," he pointed at the bundle that had been placed on a marble head-stone next to a simmering cauldron, "he will provide the blood."
Claire's eyes widened when she recognised that under the cloth lay a child, a very young boy. Not a baby anymore, he couldn't been older than one or two years. He slept or rather was unconscious.
She started to shiver violently.
A voice from the impenetrable darkness behind the ruins made them all jump.
"Again we have gathered," hissed the voice, and a cold wind rose from the ground, "to call onto the Dark Powers. Again we shall give and shall receive."
The hooded figures bowed their heads.
"Those of you, who are new to our congregation, step forward."
Malfoy gave Claire a slight push and she stumbled towards Pettigrew.
"You shall receive my mark, and be a part of me. My eyes and ears, my allies and my spies."
A great snake slithered through the stones and paused at Claire's feet, her forked tongue briefly touching Claire's skin. The snake returned to her master, and silence fell onto the graveyard.
Suddenly Malfoy jerked and approached the chapel as if drawn by invisible strings. "The witch is with child," the voice of darkness hissed. Is it a pure-blooded child?"
Malfoy looked back at Claire, who nodded, pale as death.
"The Dark Mark would kill the baby."
"I am sorry Master," wailed Malfoy, "I had no idea ..."
"Why did you bring her before me?" demanded the voice.
Malfoy went down on both knees. "She is the one who provides the money!" he whispered.
"A pure-blood must not be risked," hissed the darkness. "But she has been a witness to this meeting, so we can't let her go without the Mark."
"Why don't we keep her until the baby is born?" suggested Pettigrew. "Who is the father anyway?"
"Some oaf named White," said Malfoy.
"We shall keep her with us then," decided the voice. "And once the child is not endangered anymore, she'll receive the Mark."
Claire heard the words and almost fainted. To remain with Pettigrew and ... Voldemort of all wizards ... was a sure death sentence. How long would it take them to find out she was a squib? Would they kill only her or the baby as well?
Her brain was empty and her heart like ice. Time seemed to slow down to a standstill. And then, through a haze, she heard another voice from the back of the crowd.
"I am the child's father. This witch is my wife. I'll take the Mark in her place."