Chapter 20 – Sweet Surrender

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 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Dumbledore mulled silently over everything they'd told him, his blue eyes grave at the possible implications. "You're absolutely sure they weren't simply attacking the smell of human flesh, Rowan?" He asked finally.

"I'm not human, Headmaster." Rowan pointed out coolly, curling up even farther into her large armchair and pulling her knees to her chest in thought.

"But Mr. Potter is." Dumbledore commented.

"Potter, by all accounts was sitting in the middle of a field of wolfsbane at the time." Snape pointed out, casting a subtle glare towards Moony, who lay across the doorway. "It's doubtful the beasts could even smell him."

"Then they were sent intentionally after Harry." Sirius concluded darkly before glancing toward his one time fiancée. "Or Rowan. How much does Voldemort know?"

"Anything Peter knows, I'd imagine." She snapped bitterly. "And if he didn't know before that he suspected it."

"And Wormtail knows a hell of a lot more than he needs to, doesn't he?" Sirius bit out, not so subtly bringing up the letters she'd received from the little rat.

"Which means Voldemort is doing everything in his power to neutralize the threat of the Vox Veritas Argentum as well as the last Potter." Dumbledore finished for them, his voice intruding and soothing the blossoming argument. Sirius and Rowan both dropped their eyes like a pair of chastised children.

Snape's mouth twisted into a mocking sneer at their reaction before he added a comment of his own. "As entertaining as watching infighting among the troublemakers is, how many more are to be sacrificed to your combined pride?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore's voice cracked warningly at the Potions Master. Severus smirked triumphantly at the three pairs of eyes glaring at him before apologizing to the Headmaster. Dumbledore accepted and made a decision. "Rowan, Sirius, Remus, I'm extending our agreement and asking that neither you, Rowan, nor Harry Potter leave the grounds for the remainder of the term."

Rowan shook her head. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I feel like my skills are being wasted. Perhaps if I . . ."


"As useful as you are to our side, Rowan, you could be even more useful to Voldemort." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Despite our best efforts he''s growing stronger. I will owl your Grandfather immediately, Rowan, and advise him to keep a closer watch on Morgaine and Ger. We can't afford Voldemort gaining a Seer or our loosing one."

Rowan paled at the thought of losing even more people to the Dark Lord, but managed a weak nod. Sirius's fists clenched in frustration. He didn't have any right to simply cross the three steps separating them and comfort her when she obviously needed it, but he bloody well felt like he should!

Dumbledore noticed as well and smiled sympathetically at them both before he stood. "It's late, and hardly the time for more public conferences." He purposefully caught Sirius's eye and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be going then." Rowan stood, stepping carefully over the werewolf guarding the door. "See you at breakfast, Moony."

Sirius reached out immediately and gently caught her arm. "You said later." He noted firmly. "It's later."

Rowan blinked, looking down at his hand, which was still wrapped securely around her wrist. "It's the middle of the night!"

"Rowan, please? We need to talk." Sirius's voice took on a note of pleading and he looked very hard into her eyes. The fear apparent there tore at him, but he didn't release her. "Now." Her accustomed impartial façade quickly masked that momentary glimpse of emotion. She slowly nodded and he released her.

"My office then?" She asked. Sirius nodded silent agreement. Snape grumbled something nasty-sounding under his breath before pushing past them. Moony stepped lightly to the side and settled down on his haunches next to Dumbledore. Neither spoke as they wound their way through the ancient stone halls of Hogwarts.

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Orion woke up from his nap on the desk chair as the pair entered the study. The cat grumbled and glared affrontedly as Rowan scooped him out of the chair and absently began stroking him. Touches of Rowan's unique style of décor touched every element of the room. Sirius even recognized some of the objects from his past visits to her home in Wales.

In fact, she decorated her office much like she decorated her school dorm so long ago. Rowan had been the only witch he'd ever known to haul a beanbag chair with her to school. (The better to study alone in and she was often alone. On the other hand, later in her Hogwarts years, Sirius hazily recalled a few not-so-alone moments in that beanbag chair as well.) With a small grin, Sirius decided to see how little Rowan Myfanwy had changed in the last twenty years.

"What are you rooting around for, Sirius?" Rowan finally demanded after watching him for several minutes.

"Your toffee stash. You always have something sweet hidden away." He replied, still intent on his search. Rowan waved at the small crystal bowl perched on her desk.

"Help yourself. I'm not exactly hiding it."

"That," he pointed at the bowl, "is not your stash, Rowan. I know you better than that. That's a false sacrifice and the Weasley twins probably gave it to you. The good stuff is hidden somewhere else." He grinned roguishly at her before continuing his hunt. Rowan rolled her eyes but she levered herself out of her chair, dropping Orion on the floor, and walked over to the fireplace, opened a tall decorative urn that stood to one side and ferreted through it for a moment. She came up with a strip of lemon drops, a sugar quill and a wrapped chocolate orange. She tossed the orange to Sirius, which he caught deftly.

"Chocolate isn't good for dogs, you know." She told him as she peeled a lemon drop off for herself. The faint ghost of an amused smile tugged at one corner of her lips.

"So, you developed the Wolfsbane Potion," Sirius commented, stretching out comfortably on the hearthrug with his chocolate orange. Rowan blinked, obviously thrown by his choice of conversation topic. Her work? They hadn't spoken in over fifteen years and he wanted to talk about her work? She didn't know whether to be amused, irritated or disappointed. She settled on nodding and settling into a low chair.

Sirius followed her movements intently with his eyes. Rowan refused to meet his eyes, choosing to stare at points above or to the side of his face. "You haven't hounded me for three days to talk about my work."

"No, I didn't," he nodded, a small smile threatening to creep over his lips at her obvious discomfort. Strangely, she found she couldn't look at him.

"Why did you then?"

Sirius stared into the fire for a few moments. "I'm not really sure." He finally answered. "We do need to talk, Rowan."

"What's there to discuss?" She challenged. Sirius abruptly rolled to his feet and started pacing agitatedly.

"Harry. Voldemort. Us. I don't know! Come on, Rowan, we're fighting on the same side here!"

"You didn't go to this much trouble to talk to me about the war." Rowan pointed out, eyes narrowing. "Or Harry. And our mutual allegiance doesn't require private meetings without Dumbledore's consent."

"I didn't mean it that way," Sirius said, haunted eyes intense. "I meant we shouldn't be fighting."

Rowan lowered her eyes further, staring at her hands. His tense fists unclenched. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "So am I, Sirius."

"You've spoken with Remus. You know what happened that night. And in the Shrieking Shack." Sirius ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "That ghastly row we had that last night. Lord but that haunts me, Rowan."

Her continued stony silence unnerved him and Sirius opened his mouth to break the tension. "Don't!" Rowan warned him. "I don't want to hear whatever explanation you might have. That's always been your problem, you leap in before you even think about the consequences."

Sirius' face contorted briefly in guilt. "I had to go after Wormtail, no one else knew the truth!"

"How hard would it have been for you to Apparate to my house or send an owl? I would've even settled for a bloody Howler! Good stars, Padfoot, even a passing grindylow could have given me a message!"


Sirius blinked in surprise before he slowly smiled in satisfaction. "That's the Rowan I know. The one that never hesitated to tell me when I was being an idiot." Sirius stepped closer, his eyes dark.

Rowan stepped back. "But you never stop to think, do you Sirius?" Her voice grew rougher. "Do you know how hard it was for me to have Dumbledore tell me that you were being taken to Azkaban? I thought you would have easily died rather than betray Lily and James.

"That's how it looked! You'd sided with Voldemort. He'd wiped out all the Potters and all but two of my family! And we had to accept that!"

Sirius winced at the pain that flowed over Rowan's face. "I'm sorry Rowan. I thought about it too. If I could take away the pain I caused you I would, but I can't." He looked down at his feet then back up.

He focused on her pale blue eyes, now smoldering with contained anger and an almost forgotten emotion. "You know? There's something I've waited fourteen years to tell you." He spoke quietly, locking his hands around her shoulders.

Rowan hardly had time to gasp before his lips claimed hers, drawing her carefully into a slow, warm kiss that quickly morphed and deepened with fifteen years of pent up passion as Sirius threaded his fingers through her hair. He broke the kiss gently, whispering, "I love you," softly against her mouth before releasing her. Rowan's eyes dropped to the hearthrug, clouding with confusion, but she didn't move further than to wrap her hands over where his had just been. She glanced back up at him, unsure of what to say.

"Sirius . . ."

"Almost fifteen years," he growled, cutting off any chance at denial. "That is too bloody long if you ask me." Sirius settled his hands firmly on her shoulders again; afraid she'd bolt again. "What are we waiting for Rowan?"

"Let me go, please," she whispered, refusing to face him as a tear slipped down her cheek. Sirius kept his voice very calm as he responded.

"If I do, will you bolt again and avoid me like you've been doing for the past three days?"

'Not a bad idea,' she thought dryly, suddenly desperately missing the ability to Apparate. She was terrified, crying and wanted more than anything . . . well, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted right then. Sirius reached up and gently wiped the tears away. "Don't," he asked. "Please, Rowan. I spent twelve years in Azkaban watching you cry. I'd rather not watch any more."

Rowan squeezed her eyes together and took a steadying breath. Sirius visibly held himself in check. He didn't want to push her, but what was taking so bloody long?

"I need to think," she finally admitted.

Sirius' face broke into a smile. "You, Rowan Myfanwy, think too much." He chuckled, running a gentle finger along her jaw. Rowan looked up, startled, and involuntarily trembling at the touch.

"I . . ." The words were cut off as Sirius caught her lips in another soul-stealing kiss. "Stop that!"" Rowan finally gasped, struggling slightly against his hold. Sirius released her fully this time. She stepped back and straightened her robes primly; annoyed at their wrinkled appearance. She didn't say anything or even move for a long moment. The silence extended and Sirius started worrying. Silence, like the eye of a storm, never boded well with Rowan's temper. Sirius swallowed heavily as he suddenly found himself staring down the polished length of Rowan Myfanwy's wand and decided he absolutely hated how quickly she could draw it.

He only dimly remembered the wand that rested in his own robe pocket and vividly recalled her prowess in dueling. Rowan's icy blue-fire eyes locked his attention exclusively.

"You, Sirius Black," She advanced slowly and inexorably, forcing him back step by step. "are playing a very dangerous game." Sirius yelped as he felt cold stone press against his back.

He felt precisely like one of Orion's catnip mousies; trapped, and at the mercy of a very devious predator. "Rowan, shouldn't you . . ."" She advanced again, and Sirius retreated, knocking the large urn next to the hearth over with a frantic clang. Sugar quills, chocolate, and several sherbet balls rolled across the floor. Sirius winced, but didn't dare look away to check the damage. Rowan herself barely spared the cascade a glance.

Stepping back once more Sirius stumbled, his foot catching on the hearthrug, and sprawled to the floor, landing heavily on the edge of the beanbag chair. A small, catlike smile touched Rowan's lips. She pressed him further, dropping to one knee beside his prone form with one arm supporting her and the other firmly pressing the tip of her wand into his chest. Sirius edged away as far from the wand as he could and managed to securely mire himself in the oversized beanbag chair.

He suddenly rocked back even further as Rowan's hand flattened across his chest, trapping the smooth length of the wand between them, and kissed him deeply. Sirius, caught off guard, froze momentarily before responding. He growled slightly, irritated and delighted before pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss.

"This is not, exactly, how I imagined my night ending." Rowan laughed softly, laying her head against his chest. Sirius smiled and pulled her closer, kissing her hair fondly. This, he thought, was almost exactly how he'd hoped this night to end.
                                                                                                                       

"Stay with me." He requested.

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