Chapter 15

A few hours later, the house was eerily quiet. Too quiet, Isabelle thought suspiciously as she walked through the door. Sirius didn't look too pleased when she left for Andrew's quarters two hours ago, but at least she didn't parade him in front of the family. She sighed. It was an explicit rule that no significant others of any of the adults were to be around the children, unless it was a serious relationship. Growing up, she never met any of Sirius' or Remus' old girlfriends. The fact that Sirius kept bringing Sara to the house bothered her greatly. She flopped down on the sofa, and immersed herself in a book.

"Hi, Harry," she said, completely hidden by the couch.

He jumped a mile and gulped. "Hello."

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Probably going to head to the dorm."

"Don't stay out too late. Have fun," she called as he walked out of the door.

I didn't tell her a lie, Harry convinced himself, standing on the front porch. I just didn't tell her the whole truth. What were you supposed to say? Hey, I snuck upstairs with Ginny after you left, and guess what, she's still in my room? As if either Aunt Isabelle or Sirius would believe that all we did was talk. Not that he wouldn't have minded a snog session, but the fact that she's Ron's little sister nagged him in the back of his mind. However, it certainly didn't bother Ron that he was snogging his cousin. And, Hermione wasn't a bit concerned that Viktor might find out about Ron. That was made clear when she snuck off to the trophy room with him earlier. Harry just didn't want to think about that whole situation.

What he did want to think about was how Ginny was going to get out of the house with Isabelle there. They decided to leave separately so that no one would get suspicious, but that idea already backfired. She was stranded upstairs, and he had no choice but to go to Gryffindor Tower and pray that she doesn't get caught.

"Harry? Are you ok?"

No, I'm not, he panicked. I am so busted. Why does Hermione get away with everything, he thought crossly. "I'm fine. Just going to the dorm to hang out with Hermione and Ron." She so owes me for covering for her, too.

"Have fun," Sirius shrugged, walking into the house.

He walked into the living room, and sat down in the chair opposite the sofa, right beside the massive fireplace. Isabelle didn't look up as he threw another log on the fire.

"Uh, Isabelle?"

"Um-hum?"

"I never did thank you for helping me this morning."

"Don't worry about it." She looked up, smiled briefly, and returned to her book.

"What are you reading?" Sirius was desperately trying to start a conversation with her, but she seemed completely disinterested in him.

"I'm rereading Les Miserables."

"Oh." Completely discouraged, he stared into the fire, thinking.

A loud racket at the window made both Isabelle and Sirius jump. Carrying a massive package was a large black raven, noisily pounding the windowpanes with its beak. Isabelle ran to the front door, and the raven flew in, dropping the package neatly on the ottoman. The raven sat down beside the package, and started squawking.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Saskia," Isabelle laughed, opening the enormous envelope and removing its contents. She skimmed a lengthy letter, and her face fell.

"What's that?"

"It's from my lawyer. Phillip says that Sergei's challenging our divorce after all."

Her words shocked Sirius. He knew from Isabelle's letters that her ex-boyfriend Phillip Spence was an attorney, but he didn't know that Spence was her lawyer. And, what was going on with her divorce? She didn't look shocked at the news, so obviously this conflict was not new. Why hadn't she told him about it?

Ginny Weasley peeked around the staircase to see who was talking in the living room, and gulped. Two professors, who just so happened to be Harry's guardians, were involved in what looked like a private conversation. If she was caught, she could not imagine the trouble she would be in. She shuddered, thinking about what happened to her brothers earlier. Petrified, her body involuntarily froze, so she had no choice but to overhear the conversation.

"Belle, what's going on?" Sirius asked, sitting beside her on the couch.

"It's nothing for you to worry about," she replied, looking out the window. He reached out and turned her face towards him. Her eyes were red and full of tears.

"Please let me help you. I don't want to find out what's wrong when it's too late," his voice broke off. He took a minute to regain his composure. "When it's too late to save you. I can't lose you, too."

"It's already too late. He'll never leave me alone, not as long as I'm alive." She tapped the large stack of papers. "And, as long as this divorce stands, I live."

"I don't understand how he can contest the divorce in the first place."

"It's a really legalistic argument. It's not a big deal."

"Try me."

"Alright. There are two different court systems – Muggle and Wizard Courts. Wizard Courts will only hear cases that involve an issue of wizarding law. Otherwise, the issue has to go to a Muggle Court. With me so far?"

"Yes."

"Well, the Wizarding Courts recognize some marriages, but not others. To have a wizarding marriage, you have to use certain rites, and do certain traditions, like the rings. Most couples these days don't bother with all that and just get a Muggle marriage. The advantage to a Muggle marriage is that getting a divorce is a lot easier than a wizarding marriage. Muggle courts recognize what's called a no-fault divorce, which means that all you have to do is be separated for a certain period of time, and then file the papers. Wizarding courts do not have no-fault divorces, so someone has to be at fault for ruining the marriage to get a divorce."

"Ok," Sirius said slowly. "What does this have to do with you?"

"Sergei and I married in Las Vegas using Muggle rites. So, because it was a Muggle marriage, I got a Muggle no-fault divorce in Virginia. Sergei argued to the Wizarding Court in Williamsburg that because I wore a traditional wizarding wedding band, that made our marriage a wizarding one. He lost."

"What's the difference?"

"If the Muggle divorce is invalid, then we're still married. He doesn't want to divorce me, because although he can win on fault grounds, he'd rather kill me and get all my property rights than have a regular divorce settlement. At least, I don't think he wants a divorce. Divorce because of desertion wouldn't be worth his time, but if he could prove adultery…" Isabelle turned a ghostly shade of grey.

"But, there's no way to prove it," Sirius reassured her.

"As long as they don't find my baby."

"Yeah, but what are the chances of--" he stopped at the look on her face. "Never mind, then."

"That must be his motive. Someone must've tipped him off, and he's out for blood. My blood." She shut her eyes tightly, thinking. "He's much richer than I am, so money's not it. All my property is in trust for Harry, so he can't touch that. What other reason could there be?"

"The inheritance rights to a little over a third of the assets in Gringotts' bank," Sirius fumed. "He didn't know who you really were when you were married. And that you stand to inherit half of my money. If you were found to be at fault for ruining your marriage because of your incredibly foolish affair, the Court could assign part or all of your rights to my money over to him."

"Well, that's a good theory, but I can't inherit a dime from you."

"Yes, you can, remember? I legally adopted you right before I was shipped off to Azkaban." Which was the most idiotic decision of my life, he cursed himself.

"Um, the adoption didn't go through." She braced herself for his temper. The very last thing he said to her before leaving the house that night was to be sure to put the papers in the owl post.

Sirius couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just that I was scared, and then Sev came, and there was so little time to pack or do anything. I think I left them on the kitchen table," she said in a rush.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a daze.

"Positive. I had Phillip look into it. The papers were never filed."

Merry Christmas Sirius Black, he thought, looking at Isabelle as if for the first time. Her lower lip trembled a bit, and he suddenly realized that she thought that he was angry with her. In reality, he could not remember the last time he was this happy. Being with her was still incredibly taboo and possibly immoral, but that was a giant leap above forbidden and incestuous.

"It's ok. Really," he added. "Everything will be ok, I swear."

"Oh, is your inner eye actually working today?" she joked, relieved that he wasn't upset.

"Maybe. I know my outer ones are." He flashed her his most flirtatious grin. It had never failed him.

"Sirius, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you were making a pass at me just now."

"And, what if I was?" he said seriously.

"Stop it," she laughed. "You're not funny. You expect me to believe you, when I grew up around your pranks? Please."

He scowled. "I'm serious sometimes." Like now, he thought.

She rolled her eyes, and walked to the kitchen, still snickering. Sirius could only stare at her in disbelief. No woman had ever turned him down before, and Isabelle wounded his pride very badly just now. Frowning, he followed her to the kitchen.

I just need to prove myself, that's all, he decided. At least she didn't reject me outright.

As soon as Sirius was out of sight, a very shaken Ginny seized the opportunity to dash out the front door and raced back to the safety of Gryffindor Tower, grateful that she hadn't been caught.

-----

The next morning, Isabelle was the last person to wake up and get ready for the day because she kept having nightmares about when she was with Sergei, and didn't get much sleep. Bleary-eyed, she stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed a massive mug of hot tea, and joined everyone else in the living room.

"Morning," she yawned, conjuring up a piece of paper and a pen. She quickly drafted a letter, placed it in an envelope, and sealed it tightly. She snapped her fingers twice, and the massive raven appeared from nowhere and settled on the ottoman.

"What's that?" Harry asked, eyeing the bird suspiciously.

"This," she said, petting its head, "is Saskia. She belongs to an old friend of mine who sent me a post yesterday. Phillip says that he prefers ravens because they're faster and can carry more weight than owls. But, I think it's because he likes Edgar Allan Poe."

"Who?" Hermione inquired.

Isabelle smiled. "He's only the inventor of the short story format and one of the few wizards to become famous as a Muggle author. Poe wrote a lot of his stuff in Richmond, not far from my flat, actually. Anyway, one of his most famous works is 'The Raven'. When we were in college, Phillip was always reading Poe." She looked directly at the bird. "Saskia, 'quote the raven'…"

"Nevermore," the bird said promptly. Everyone stared in disbelief.

"Did the bird just talk?" Remus asked.

"Yep. Phillip teaches his ravens tricks, too. You'll appreciate this one, I think. Saskia, shake what your mama gave you." She turned around and started shaking her tail feathers. The room erupted in hysterical laughter. Sirius nearly fell out of his chair, and Remus had to wipe away tears.

"Ok, Saskia, enough showing off," Isabelle laughed, tying the letter to her leg, and opening the front door. The raven chirped goodbye, flew outside, and disappeared into the winter sky. She turned to Harry. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Bye, everyone," he said, picking up a large duffel bag. Isabelle tied her scarf tighter, and they set off to meet the Weasleys in Hogsmeade.

-----

Molly Weasley nervously straightened the kitchen, pausing to stir a large pot of stew. After traveling all morning, the children, the boys especially, would be starving. She walked to the living room, pausing to look at her reflection in the hall mirror, smoothing out her apron over her shabby robes.

No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that Isabelle Evans was just a normal woman, the idea of the former countess in her home intimidated her. Although she knew that Isabelle had lived a tough life, all Molly could think of was how members of the Potter and Black households, the two richest, most influential wizarding families in the English Isles raised her. Unlike Harry, she grew up used to an incredibly affluent standard of living. The Burrow was a shack even compared to Isabelle's modest flat in Richmond.

And what would Charlie's new fiancée think of her in-laws? Charlie wrote once that Fleur Delacour treated Isabelle like an older sister, and the two were incredibly close. Would she be able to relate to her future daughter-in-law? A loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Ready or not, she was about to find out.

Loud voices filled the entryway, spilling into the living room. Dropping their duffel bags on the living room floor, the Weasley boys hugged their mother hello and sprawled on the furniture. Ginny and Harry walked in together, making Molly raise an eyebrow. Before she had time to think about the possibility of a relationship between them, Charlie led two tall, beautiful blonde women through the door.

"Mum, this is Isabelle Evans, Harry's aunt," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley," she drawled in a soft, flowing Southern accent.

"Nice to meet you, too, Ms. Evans. Please call me Molly."

"And I'm Isabelle." The two women exchanged hesitant, but genuine smiles.

"And this," Charlie continued proudly, "is Fleur. Fleur, this is my mum."

"Nice to finally meet you. Charlie's told me so much about you," Fleur said in her fading French accent, reaching out to give Molly a quick hug.

"I hate to interrupt this fine family moment, but I'm starving. Is there any food around this place?" Fred called out loudly, clutching his stomach. Everyone laughed at the look of mock pain on his face.

"There's stew in the kitchen," his mother replied. A herd of feet thundered to the kitchen, followed at a safe distance by the adults.

Isabelle walked into the large, comfortably lived-in kitchen where Fred, George and Ron were already sitting at the table with large bowls of stew. There was something about it that smelled strangely familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it until she saw Harry ladling out his own bowl.

"Is that a traditional Irish stew?" she inquired curiously. Molly nodded, and Isabelle's face lit up. "My mum used to cook it when I was a little girl. And when she got too sick to make it, my nanny Maria would make it for us. I haven't had a decent bowl of stew since I was six."

"My mum didn't make it?" Harry asked with his mouth full.

"Lily, God rest her soul, was a lousy cook. Absolutely terrible," she replied with pursed lips. "Your Aunt Gina was worse. Thank goodness for take-out food and a house-elf. Otherwise, we would have starved. You kids don't realize how lucky you are."

What a true statement that is, Isabelle thought, looking around the room. Sirius was right; this is truly the richest family in the world because they have each other. As the conversation continued around her, she thought of her own family, and how most of them are gone. She suddenly felt the urge to visit them, to reconnect with old memories. Fleur seemed to be fitting in nicely, so there was really no need for her to stay.

"Well," she began, looking at her watch, "I really should be going. It was nice meeting you, Molly. See y'all after the New Year."

After giving many goodbye hugs, Isabelle disapperated with a pop and apperated at the cemetery gate in Hogsmeade. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the family plot.

-----

Across town, Sirius and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express. Since most of the students took the morning departure time, they had no problem finding an empty compartment. Neither of them was a morning person, so they chose to sleep late and take a long lunch before traveling to the Grangers' house.

The train left the platform, and Hermione quickly settled down with a book. Sirius looked out the window, thoughts racing through his head, mostly of Isabelle. From the day he met her, she was like a poison that wouldn't get out of his system. Other than his daughter, and her mother, there was no one else he loved more than Isabelle. His love for her tormented him, especially when he thought of Sara. He knew that he had to choose one woman or the other, even if she didn't choose to be with him. After a few minutes of trying to make sense of his love life, he gave up.

"What are you reading?"

"Sense and Sensibility," Hermione replied. "I went through all the books Isabelle gave me, and I picked this one first because Mum and Aunt Lily wrote in it."

"Really? Can I see it?" She passed him the book. He opened it, and sure enough, Regina's broad, untidy scrawl spread over the page, interrupted occasionally by Lily's small, neat handwriting.

"Read it. It's pretty funny. They're supposed to be writing an inscription to Isabelle, but end up having an argument about the plot of the book."

"Sounds about right. They didn't agree on anything, which is why they were such good friends," Sirius mused. He tried to focus his eyes on the page, but he couldn't read the words. "Ok. If you tell Isabelle that I have to wear reading glasses, I swear that I'll terrorize Ron about your – oh, how shall I put it – extracurricular activities over the holiday."

"H-how did you know about that?" Hermione stuttered.

"What, do you think I'm stupid?" He raised an eyebrow, put his glasses on and began to read.


Happy fourteenth birthday to our little Margaret Dashwood. We hope you enjoy this book as much as we did. Love, Lily P.S. Gina'll tell you that Elinor's boring, but don't listen to her. She likes fickle, flighty Marianne who doesn't know a decent man when she sees him.

Elinor is boring! She's a dull prude who just sits around pining for the equally uninteresting Edward, just calmly accepting that nasty Lucy's going to marry her man. At least Marianne has real feelings, and seeks out love instead of just waiting around for Mr. Right to enter her parlour door.

Real feelings? As in nearly getting yourself killed over some guy who says he loves you but just leaves you after a torrid love affair where you damage the family reputation?

She just wanted adventure, that's all. What's wrong with that? A body can't live in the back of beyond her whole life. And, who cares about the family reputation? Love knows no etiquette or protocol; it has a mind of its own and sometimes you just fall for the completely wrong person. Just because you can't be together doesn't mean that the love wasn't real.

I'm not debating that. All I'm saying is that Elinor kept the family together and took care of things while Marianne was off chasing Mr. Wrong. She's reliable. Marianne ended up with a reliable man. So there. Dependable wins.

But, he was a dependable man who accepted Marianne's quirkiness, and didn't try to change her. He accepted her just the way she was, wounded heart and all. I think that, not his steadfast character, won her over.

True. No one short of a saint could've put up with her crap.

And no one who enjoys being conscious could've stayed around Elinor more than five minutes without taking a trip to dreamland.

But, they did love each other…just like how I love you even though you're obviously a bad judge of character…

And I love you even though you appreciate the dullness in life…

So, with that, little sister, happy reading! At least we've given you food for thought. Love ya, your big sis

And Lily's food is porridge. Mine is chocolate cake. Bon appetit! Love, Regina

Sirius smiled wryly as he closed the book, wondering if they were arguing about themselves or the novel. He looked up at Hermione, who had an anguished look on her face.

"What's the matter?"

"I killed my mother. It's my entire fault that she died. If I had never been born, then she would still be here." Her voice became louder and more pained. "And, if Mum hadn't died, then they wouldn't have sent you to prison, because no one would've believed that you were a Death Eater. Maybe no one would've died, and Harry would still have parents. And, you would still have her."

He stared at her in disbelief, blinking. "You didn't kill anyone, especially not your mother. I'm sorry; I guess I should've talked to you about all this earlier. How long have you felt this way?"

"Ever since July," she admitted.

"And you didn't say anything because you think that I blame you somehow for your mother's death?" She nodded quickly. "I promise you that I don't. When you were born, I swore that I wouldn't become bitter like my father did. Both of us lost her."

Sirius thought for a minute, trying to decide what to tell her. "It's true that Regina died shortly after you were born, but it wasn't childbirth alone that killed her. A long time ago, your mum went to New York City and fell into a rough crowd. One night at a party, some idiot talked her into experimenting with various illegal substances, I'm not even sure what, or how much. Well, some bacteria was on the paraphernalia the bloody git gave her. The bacteria caused her to catch infective endocarditis, which is a virus that attacks the heart. It almost killed her, but the doctors told her that she made a full recovery."

"Was she still sick with the infective endo-whatever it is?"

"Endocarditis. Very. She would have minor relapses, but she never told any of us about it. Ashamed of what she had done, I guess. Right before we got married, the doctors put her on a permanent regimen of antibiotics. She told me they were vitamins. A couple of years later, she became pregnant with you. Her doctor told her that her history of heart disease wouldn't affect her ability to have children, and she believed him." He sighed heavily. "What no doctor knew at that time was that Regina was born with a heart murmur, so she had a weak heart even before the virus. No one knows why, but she went into premature labor, so the doctor decided to deliver you by C-section to minimize the strain on her heart."

"What happened then?" Hermione asked quietly.

"She caught a staph infection from the stitches. Her body was just too weak to fight it; her heart was worn out. It happened so quickly. There was nothing we could do except watch her fade away. Anyway, you didn't have anything to do with her getting sick in the first place." He took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you, you're are not to tell anyone, ok?"

"Ok."

"Nearly everyone in the crowd Regina was with, including that complete waste of a human being she fell for, became Death Eaters, and there were rumors that she was associated with the Dark Lord. Any evidence to support that idea was destroyed, but people still talked. So, when I married her, the Ministry started an internal audit to investigate me. Of course they never found anything, but my association to her was enough to make some Ministry officials think that I could kill off my own family. People wanted someone to blame, and I was an easy target. You never being born wouldn't have changed any of that, either."

"How'd you find out Mum was sick if she never told anyone about it?"

"Deathbed confessional. Actually, she didn't tell me. Isabelle did. When the doctor said that she had a staph infection, she knew it was the end, and asked to talk to Isabelle. That's when we called her home from Hogwarts. I don't know everything Regina told her, or why she asked for her, even. She made her promise not to tell anyone but me what happened, because she didn't want you to grow up ashamed of your own mother."

"But, she just made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. It's not her fault she got sick."

"It's not yours, either. It's his fault," Sirius spat. "He had no business doing what he did to her."

"Who is he?"

"No one worth mentioning." They sat in silence for a minute.

"When did you get over my mother?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Over her? What do you mean?"

"Well, you date and stuff. You couldn't do that if you still loved Mum, right?"

"Wrong. I'll never stop loving her as long as I live. My very first memory is of she, James and I throwing toys at each other. You just can't get over losing someone after knowing her for twenty-five years; well, I can't, anyway. Part of me will always love her, but there's no use being stuck in the past. Time keeps going, whether you're ready to move on or not. One day, you realize that your little girl is a grown woman, and your baby is almost grown herself. And, that both of you got along just fine on your own."

"That doesn't mean that we don't need you. At least I know that you'll rearrange the anatomy of any loser that breaks my heart. Speaking of, how did you know about Ron and I?"

A wicked grin spread over his face. "I didn't. You just told me."

"What?" Her jaw dropped.

"Lucky guess. Don't you think you're playing with fire? When the cat's away, and all that?"

"You have a lot of room to talk," she muttered under her breath.

"I have excellent hearing. Care to explain yourself?" Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.

"No, sir," she said archly, knowing it was to her advantage not to say what she knew. "I just have a question, that's all."

"What?"

"Why is it that you never talk about Mum when Sara's around?"

"Because she'd be uncomfortable. You know that."

"Is Isabelle uncomfortable talking about my mother?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course not."

"I was just wondering that's all." Hermione buried her head in her book, hoping that her father got the hint.

He did, loud and clear. Leaning his head against the back of the seat, Sirius closed his eyes, thinking. Life would be perfect if only Isabelle returned my feelings for her, he decided. But, she doesn't think of you that way, so give up and move on. Take your own advice before life passes you by completely, he kept telling himself as the train sped towards London.

-----

The sun was just beginning to set when Sirius opened the front door of the house, making everything eerily dark. Especially since Isabelle was supposed to be home from the Weasleys' hours ago. He had hoped that she would be home. After spending a somewhat awkward afternoon at the Grangers' house, he really needed someone to talk to.

He bumped his way into the living room, tripping over various presents that hadn't made their way upstairs, and lit the lamps. One thing that Sirius insisted on was that no electric hook-ups were allowed at the house. He wasn't prejudiced against Muggle ways of living; he just preferred to raise his family in the old ways. Isabelle laughed and called him old-fashioned, but ended up charming her hair dryer to work without electricity.

The fire had gone out long ago because Dobby had the day off, making the room incredibly chilly. Rubbing his hands together for warmth and to keep them from cramping, he quickly lit a roaring fire in the fireplace. Guessing that Isabelle was still at the Weasleys', he threw some powder into the fire and dropped in on their dinner. Harry informed him that she left shortly after noon. It was now five-thirty, and Sirius was concerned. It wasn't her style to disappear.

He threw on his cloak, and wandered through Hogsmeade, stopping at her favorite shops. After checking the stores and pubs twice, he decided to go back home. Halfway through town, he passed the cemetery gate. He doubted that she would go there, but it wouldn't hurt to look. Right as he reached the family plot, he heard a familiar voice.

The setting sun highlighted Isabelle's blonde hair, turning it brilliant shades of yellow, red and orange. Usually she kept her hair up, but she took it down to keep her head warm in the cold. Sirius paused for a minute, listening. She was chatting away to the headstones, pausing her monologue occasionally to wipe away a stray tear. He quietly walked up to where she was sitting and sat down beside her.

"Hello, Sirius. How are the Grangers?" she asked without looking at him.

"They're fine. Have you been here all afternoon?"

"Yes. You're right about the Weasleys. They're lovely," she chattered through blue lips.

"I know. Why don't we go home? You're freezing."

"I miss Lily," she replied, as if she didn't even hear him. "I wish she were here, because she'd know what to do to make everything better. She always did."

Sirius sighed. It seemed like no matter where he went, the past just kept coming up. And he, for one, was sick of reliving old, painful memories. Counting on the element of surprise, he reached over, grabbed her by the waist, and picked her up.

"What are you doing?" she screeched.

"Interrupting your pity party. I came here looking for a dinner date, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

"You heard me. Anywhere you want to go. My treat. I owe you for my little Christmas oversight, anyway." She looked at him skeptically, but he saw a small smile flicker. "Come on, how many chances do we have to do anything without the children?"

"Anywhere I want to go?"

"Anywhere."

She thought for a minute, and smiled. "The Cheese Shop in Williamsburg. It's lunch time there, though."

"That doesn't matter to me. Williamsburg, it is, as long as I can have one of those Death by Chocolate things."

"I think that can be arranged."

"Let's get out of here, then. Aren't you cold?"

"Very," Isabelle admitted. With a gallant smile, Sirius took off his cloak and put it around her shoulders.

"Oooh, since when did you become a gentleman?" she teased.

"Since you became a lady," he replied, winking at her.

Their eyes met, and they gave each other a shy smile before hurrying out of the cemetery.