THE WIND AND THE WANTED

Fan fiction

Disclaimer: Clara Fogg is MY hero!! Only she.

Summary & info: Clara Fogg is an Auror and she used to work with Sirius Black. Now she wants to learn the truth about her partner. Is she wise enough to find him and to understand?

I write ii in 'I' form. Clara is the narrator for present (the beginning after 3rd book) and Sirius is for past (after their graduation).

Oh, I guess this is more serious story, but I hope you will enjoy!!!

Write please what you think!!



ONE - HIS SECRET HIDE

The jungle. Wet, dump. Moist. Gosh. It's a tragedy: for my lungs, for my beige trousers, for my feet in my new hiking shoes. A perfect place to complain. How I love it.

The ground is muddy and it is difficult to walk. Maybe I should have taken my broomstick? No, I'll try to have real vacation. But maybe I should have apparated nearer? Who would have expected that Congo jungle is so huge? Oh, another stream, I'll apparate on the other side.

The grass is wet, the soil smells awfully and colourful birds are flying and singing around my head. Dangerous animals (it's so funny, they're afraid of every single piece of magic!). Ant the plants, wow, they're wonderful, I mean, very poisonous. Such a jungle is a paradise for potion makers. Maybe I should pick some? Everything could be useful one day. And the lost in jungle bushes villages. Simple magic and weather divinations. I'd love to meet a local, savage wizard.

God, How long do I have to walk, I need a rest. Yeah, fresh water. Self- filling glass is one of the best solutions for long walks. I wonder if he has fresh, spring water THERE. BTW, where is he?? It is impossible that he has hidden himself that well. Hmm, he used to be smart, but not to such degree. Oh, another piece of mud on my robes. I'll have to wash it. I hate washing-up. Maybe he will do this if I offer him a bottle of butterbeer?

I could have caught him this spring. But I hated the situation: Work with the (I shivered only because of the thought) Dementors or other dark- connected types that Fudge employs for the unsure safety of the world. Let's kill Voldemort's supporters with their own weapon: the Dark Arts. I think that if we use it we're no better than them. It is thought that Aurors shouldn't pay attention to morality: they should protect not preach. Well, they should have some kind of codex (never written, of course), but I don't think they would agree with mine. I refuse to use Dark Arts in my work. That's why I didn't try hard this spring. A convicted murderer should be caught. But I don't think that catch means a Dementor's Kiss. A senseless, hopeless thing.

Moreover I am convinced that any person deserves a trial. And he had never had one.

I should be close by now. I walked fast; the trees appeared in front of me and quickly hid behind my back. I could see no people; he wouldn't choose a place to close to some villages.

Now I'm getting nervous. Maybe he will jump with a knife to my swan neck? Maybe he will hit me with a rock or bludgeon? Maybe he really is a murderer and my quiet investigation, years of analyses, my presumptions that he may be innocent turn out to be worthless?

I don't want to be seen before I reach his cabin or so. Surprise is the best weapon.

I've never liked the feeling of being invisible. Some say that it's a gift, I don't. Ok. It's helpful, especially when someone is as shy and uncommunicative as I am. I become invisible mentally, not materially. People don't notice me. The process isn't nice but I overdose it. The misty wind, cold, sea breeze that then appears makes me shiver. That's why I am usually cold and look pale. Sun doesn't work if somebody's in eternal mist.

Well, today it was beneficial: the jungle was hot and the breeze allowed me to breathe normally. The shapes of trees blurred for a while and a seaweed scent appeared in the middle of the jungle, thousands of kilometers from the sea!

Then I saw his cabin. Walls were made of bamboo, the roof of palm tree leaves. Nice one, I smiled. Draughty, that is good in such climate. The disadvantage was that insects could easily come in, but I can stop them with one simple spell. I'm on vacation at last, no insect included.

By the time she approached he must have felt the breeze. It hindered his interesting work: peeling sweet potatoes or counting mice for Buckbeak's dinner. He probably looked around (maybe draught), but felt the horrible sea smell. He hasn't felt that since 12 years. He was wondering whether to be happy or scared when I came in and he - flabbergasted - stood up very quickly, looked about for a place to hide, but managed only to knock over a small chair. He was frightened and stared at me. The same proud figure, same midnight blue smart eyes. My hair was a little longer and darker, my voice sounded deeper and manful. What was she doing there?

'Mr. Black, this was a perfect hide', I spoke. I hated my voice, that business style: firm and brisk. And cool as Arctic. My glance also was formal and mock. And my hand on the doorframe, God, I'm still at work.

I gave him a suspicious gaze and walked into the hut. Small, but homey. How the hell had he done this, it was the beginning of July, he escaped from England at the end of June, she presumed. I sat absent-minded on his 'bed'. He stood there, his eyes still wide open.

'Fogg??', Sirius asked slowly while he was checking whether I had come alone. He was tall and thin rather than slender, but weighed more than after his escape from Azkaban. His dark hair was cut shorter, his skin however was still gray in shade and his dark seductive eyes were still hollow. Yeah, he must have noticed the pity in my cold eyes, because he continued. 'Clara? What..?'

He was still examining whether I'm alone. Frightened peeps through the only window. Embarrassing, a mature man suspecting his old friend, and a helpless, small, sensitive woman!!!

'Gosh, Black, I am alone. If I wanted to catch you with a herd of Aurors or, better!, with a battalion of dementors, do you think I would have bothered to find you in that stupid jungle??', wow, it was the longest speech I've made since my last exams, ages ago. I helped myself with a glass of pineapple juice. I glanced at his face and could almost read the billions of questions crossed his head in a second. What was she doing here? How did she find him? Was she still and Auror? Was she after him? What did she know??

I was watching this tall man at a loss. He wore shabby, torn, dirty clothes, but wasn't as thin as on the photos in papers. His hair was shorter and jet-black again, his face shaved and handsome, but his eyes were hollow and filled with enormous pain. I had to stop this embarrassing situation, so I opened my bag.

'What are you doing here?', that was all he said, still standing.

'A warm welcome, isn't it?', God, I couldn't loose my business style. I hate it, I hate to be so distant to a man who used to be my friend. 'I feel like drinking tea before', I grinned, with the most wonderful smile, mysterious and ironic, I could use. 'the talk.'

I put off the teapot, cups and leaves.

'I have china cups, and finest English tea', after a while I sat down on the floor with tea in her hands and asked him to join. He was still flabbergasted so it had to be me who spoke.

'I remembered you as a talkative guy, Sirius', I began and watched him carefully. 'I hoped I wouldn't have to speak much, but let me begin.'

Sirius was drinking his tea.

'We were hunting for you, darling, all year and when you finally managed to escape us once again', oh, that ironical tone was perfect. 'Dumbledore was rather amused than frightened that a convicted ran away. His smile was one of the missing puzzles in the history. A final solution to my investigation and presumptions that you might be not totally guilty.'

'Not guilty? Clara? How?', shocked Black, what a beautiful sight. It was a brilliant idea to come here.

'Well, I thought you deserved a trial. I believed in your guilt, but they had just sentenced you. I've never liked the way the ministry functions. I thought I owe you the trial, we were sort of friends (mmm, that curiosity and hope in his eyes). So I began my investigation, I analyzed some fats, traces, but I still have no final proof. I listen.'

He didn't seem to be able to talk yet so I continued and tried hard to sound convincingly.

'Black, I'm on vacation now. In fact my first vacation since graduation. I came here to learn the truth. I doubt whether the Ministry would believe me, they're too stupid to trust obvious facts, but I need few more clues to complete my own investigation.'

And he told me his version. Impossible? Not true? It suited my version: he wasn't the secret keeper. Peter was. That small, filthy rat. I have no more remorse that I had never liked him.

And once again I saw that endless sorrow in his eyes: not because he was sentenced, he really believed in his guilt, but because he couldn't have protected those who he loved.

The strict atmosphere faded away and we were able to smile slightly. I was right, well, I always am.

'So you were at Hogwarts? I haven't. Well, of course, Clara Fogg is never seen. But you wouldn't have found me there, babe.'

'Yeah, I would like to remind you that I knew you were an animagus. And only because of my good, girlish heart they didn't.' 'I appreciate.'

'Well, you should have trusted me. And thank your friend, Lupin. I was afraid he would reveal it to somebody. I guess he was too scared to do it.'

'Don't offend my friend, now he knows the truth', he laughed it was so relaxing. 'So you still don't use dark arts? Any?'

'No, and you perfectly know why so don't ask. I doesn't disturb me to be one of the most successful Aurors.'

'And now, they didn't follow you?'

'Me??', she asked, disappointed he could expect that. 'I am a respectable Auror, dear, and even if they wanted I am to smart to be followed, fool', they both smiled. 'I told old Kingsley I was going to the States or somewhere, I doubt if he thought I would seek you.'

'Dear old Clara, too smart for all the Ministry. And how did you find me?', Sirius smiled 'cause he knew the answer.

'I thought of a place that I would choose to hide', my smile was vicious, but playful. 'And I went to its opposite!'

'And here I am. God, I am so happy you found me, but still hurt that my hiding wasn't perfect. Why did you stay with that job?'

'Sirius, I got used to my standard of living. You know: comfortable shoes, clothes and robes of best quality, latest models of brooms!'

'So! I taught you something!'

'Yeah, thanks, it's really helpful', I mocked and we laughed. A talk to him was so relaxing. Once again, to my mock surprise, Sirius turned out to be an intelligent and interesting chatter.

I got used to life without serious, not business like, talks. But such talk was so relieving. Not only for me.

'So, Sirius, you met Harry? You gained back one important part of your life.'

'have you seen him? He looks exactly as James. I..'

'He's not James'

I saw it in his eyes: a deepest desire to meet, to talk, and to be with James. We both have to forget. And to live on. How??