Chapter 30

Sergei Remizov walked into the restroom and studied his reflection carefully. A truly evil grin spread over his face; he was the living image of Sirius Black.

Which has been quite useful all week, he thought, his grin widening.

When he returned to Lord Voldemort later this evening with the Potter boy, he would also have a wealth of information that the Dark Lord would find useful, to say the least. But first, he needed to dispose of his wife.

Isabelle has been a thorn in my side for far too long, he thought sourly.

He was quite grateful that Voldemort gave him permission to deal with her as he saw fit, much to Lucius Malfoy's protests. Sergei scowled, repulsed at the idea of his wife and that man having an affair under his own nose without him having a clue.

Malfoy will pay too, he consoled himself. As will that traitor Snape.

The clock in the Great Hall struck eleven o'clock a.m. One hour until the court published its ruling that the divorce was invalid and that the marriage stood. Sergei walked out of the bathroom, eager to put his plan into action.

Knowing that the real Sirius Black was nowhere near the castle, he confidently knocked on the door to Isabelle's office. Since it was partially open, he simply let himself inside.

"Hi," she said, smiling softly before returning to her stack of ungraded essays.

Despite how much he despised his wife, her incredible beauty always struck him every time he saw her. Sergei narrowed his eyes, deciding to have a little fun with Isabelle before he killed her. A little revenge for every time she double-crossed him throughout the years.

He walked to the desk, and stood behind her, pretending to be interested in the useless Muggle junk she was reading. "Working on a Saturday?"

"Always do," she replied cheerfully.

"You know what they say about all work and no play," Sergei said suggestively. As an added touch, he began kissing her neck gently.

Isabelle puzzled over Sirius' behavior, which seemed quite erratic over the past few days. But, considering that everything was a little crazy all week with Hermione's birthday and all, she shrugged off his actions. Besides, he really seemed to be making an effort to fix things between them.

"What are you trying to say?" she wondered.

"That maybe we should go back to the house and enjoy the weekend," he answered softly.

Now she was truly confused. Today was Regina's deathday – was he really suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? And, if so, does he really want to be with me, or is he just trying to distract himself from her memory? she thought, biting her lip.

Sensing her hesitation, Sergei turned on the charm. He knew Isabelle couldn't resist the 'Black' charm for a minute. Which also irritated him to no undying end.

"What I meant," he smiled disarmingly, "was that maybe we could have lunch and then take things from there. You know, have that conversation that we've been putting off."

"Sure, sounds great."

Isabelle stood up, and followed 'Sirius' into the hallway. Sergei smiled internally; everything was going right according to plan. According to the clock, he had twenty-five minutes before noon. And, he knew just how he wanted to spend them.

-----

Hermione peeked out from under her Potions outline at Viktor, who was dutifully writing out next week's lesson plans for the first-years. Frustrated, she leaned her head against the headboard of her bed. The main reason she suggested that they work at her father's house was so that she would have a quiet place to break up with him.

I'm such a wimp, she told herself crossly. Just do it.

But, she really didn't want to hurt him, even thought it was unavoidable. He was a great guy, probably better suited for her than Ron, actually. However, she despite her best efforts to the contrary, she fell for Ron, not Viktor.

And, the heart's desires are simply unexplainable, especially to a confused sixteen-year-old girl. Right when she opened her mouth to speak, she heard the front door open and slam shut.

She gulped, knowing how much trouble she was in if she was caught in her bedroom with Viktor. Neither Isabelle nor Sirius was thrilled with her fling with Ron over Christmas holidays, and they'd be even less happy that she used their home to shack up with guys when they weren't there.

Hypocrites, she thought sourly. And, that's how they'd see it, too. Never mind that all we're doing is studying. Just because they used to hook up whenever, wherever, with whomever they wanted to doesn't mean that I'm following in their illustrious footsteps.

Not to mention that if they caught Harry in the same exact situation, they'd give him the benefit of the doubt, she grumbled internally. Because he's Harry Perfect Potter, and I'm the resident wild child of this generation. Yeah, I'm so wild, too. Just call me Isabelle, junior.

"Hey, Viktor?" she whispered. "I'm going to go see who that is, ok?"

"Sure." He smiled so sweetly that she felt horribly guilty for wanting to dump him.

Hermione crept down the hallway, and inched down the staircase. Two angry voices suddenly echoed through the entire first floor. Curious, she sat down on the stairs to eavesdrop on what sounded like her father arguing with Isabelle for the forty-millionth time.

"What kind of idiot do you take me for, Sergei?" Isabelle said in a harsh tone of voice that actually scared Hermione.

And, what's going on here? she wondered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said innocently.

"Fine." Hermione peeked around the corner, and watched Isabelle grab a back of gummi worms out of a drawer. "Want one?"

When the man who claimed to be Sirius Black didn't flinch, both women knew instantly that he was a phony. However, Hermione had no clue why she knew that Sirius hated anything gummi with a passion. She puzzled while Isabelle popped a gummi worm in her mouth and drew her wand threateningly.

"It's been a long time, Sergei. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she spat. "Oh, wait – silly me. The court decision comes out in what, fifteen minutes? Is that how long I have to live?"

"Or until I'm finished with you. Whichever takes longer," he said with an evil grin that made Hermione sick.

Before Isabelle could react, he kicked her legs out from underneath her. As she fell, he grabbed her wand, broke it in half, and threw the pieces into the fire. He pinned her on the floor, laughing spitefully.

"I have missed you, love," he said cruelly, tracing the curve of her face with his index finger. His face contorted in pure fury, and he slapped her face with incredible force.

"Yes, everyone needs their very own punching bag," she replied evenly, spitting on him.

"Too bad I didn't realize your value when I had you," he mused. "The baby sister of the woman who brought down the Dark Lord. How did it feel to dine with the man who murdered your sister and brother-in-law, forced you into hiding, and sent the great love of your life to Azkaban? Oh, I'll get to Black in a minute. First, answer my question, bitch."

He put his hands around her throat and shook her for a minute.

"Go to hell."

He laughed, obviously pleased with her answer. "Oh, I will. Right after you, love. And that brat of a nephew of yours, along with his darling cousin. My Lord is looking forward to finishing off the Potter line this evening. So, rest assured that you'll have more company in your eternal resting place."

"Over my dead body."

"That's the idea. You are a slow one today, aren't you?"

Hermione gulped, petrified. She didn't know whether to go help Isabelle or not, since she was a target of this attack, too. The last thing she wanted to do was to get them all killed, so she stayed put for the time being.

"Say hi to our daughter when you reach the great beyond, Isabelle," he hissed. She laughed mirthlessly.

"Kate's not yours."

What did she just say? Hermione gasped, leaning closer so that she could hear more clearly.

"You little--" he fumed, trying to pin her to the floor tighter. In the scuffle, Isabelle managed to break free of him and put several feet between them.

"Oh, yes, Sergei. Every day – every single bloody day – as soon as you left for the office--"

"Malfoy's going to pay for--" he interrupted.

"For what? Being twice the man you are? In every way imaginable," she said suggestively. "How does it feel to know that you played second best to Lucius Malfoy, of all people?"

Hermione froze to the stair. Did Isabelle just say that she had an affair and a baby with Lucius Malfoy? she thought, stunned beyond belief.

"How does it feel to know that you play second best to a dead woman?" he fired back, smiling at the pained look on her face. "Aww, truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Sod off," she screamed.

Sergei laughed evilly. "Poor, poor Isabelle. You lived your whole bloody life hoping to get Sirius Black to notice you. And, what happened as soon as he had you? He tossed you, and that cursed spawn of yours aside like yesterday's trash."

"Enough!"

Concerned, Viktor walked into the hallway, looking for Hermione. He spotted her cowering on the staircase, trembling like a leaf while listening to the argument downstairs. Right as he reached her, the stair squeaked loudly, giving both of them away. Sergei instantly bounded to the front hall and looked at the teenagers.

"I didn't know we had an audience, love. Please, come downstairs and join us. I insist," he said with a wild look on his face.

"Oh, my Lord," Isabelle whispered as they trudged into the room.

"You must be the Black child. Looks remarkably like her mother, doesn't she darling?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yes," she answered through clenched teeth.

"Give her my regards." Sergei pointed his wand towards Hermione. "Avada Kedavra."

Isabelle watched in horror as a jet of green light shot from his wand, traveling towards Hermione in what seemed like slow motion. Viktor pushed her out of the way the instant before the lethal beam hit her. He was dead before he hit the floor.

As his body hit the ground with a thud, the clock chimed noon. In one quick, smooth motion, Isabelle pulled up Hermione, plucked her wand from her robes, and threw her towards the door.

"Cruc--" Sergei yelled at the teenager.

"Declino Crucio!" Isabelle interrupted, sending the spell into a beautiful antique vase, which exploded into shards.

Not my stargazer lilies, she thought ruefully. It's time to get ugly. She looked at Hermione who stood looking at the scene, petrified from fear.

"Contego!" Isabelle screamed, covering her with a temporary shield charm. "Gracie, run! Now!"

"But…" Hermione protested, looking at her like she had never seen her before. Suddenly, everything made sense to her. Their eyes met, and Isabelle gasped.

She remembers me, Isabelle thought, tearing up a bit. "Go! Now!"

Somehow, Hermione found her feet, and ran out of the house and into the faculty grounds. When she turned around, the house shook with a deafening roar. She took off for the main castle to get help, trying to tune out the explosions and bright flashes of light shooting through the air.

-----

Rubbing his temples wearily, Sirius opened the gate to the Potter plot at the cemetery. The ground muffled his footsteps as he crossed the rows of headstones, stopping in front of his wife's grave. He quietly knelt and laid a bouquet of daisies on the ground.

"Hello, Regina," he said softly. "Well, it's been sixteen years since you've left us. It really doesn't seem like it's been that long. But, in other ways – it seems like those days were a lifetime ago. So much has changed between now and then."

"Starting with our daughter. Looks you won the war, because she goes by Hermione now. I bet you're getting a big kick out of that one, aren't you? Teaches me not to try to outsmart you. Were you a Seer or something, and just never told me? I wouldn't put it past you."

"Anyway, she's a great kid, no thanks to me. You'd be really proud of her. Well, except for the fact that she'll probably make Head Girl. In which case, you'd probably want to disown her. She still has another year to become a slacker like us, so there's hope. She is a Prefect, though." He shrugged, clearly puzzled.

"I don't get it, either. She certainly didn't get that from either one of us. But, she's definitely an individual, and has been from day one. Maybe she gets the do-gooder thing from James or something. Luckily, she does have a wild streak. Not quite as free spirited as you were, but hey, Muggle dentists raised her. I'm telling you, if Isabelle and I hadn't gotten to her in time, she'd be boring as hell. Worse than your father even, and we both know that's pretty damn boring."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I went to the old house in Dover this morning, just to walk around and think about things. I stood in our old room forever, it seemed, thinking about us and the way things turned out. Sometimes, I still wonder what would've happened if you hadn't died. Even if I did still end up going to prison, Gracie still would've had you. Which is infinitely better than Muggle dentists."

"You'd have been a great mum. I'm sure of it," he said, completely choked up. "I wish that Grace – er, Hermione – I know that, love, could've known you. Isabelle does do a good job of talking about you, and trying to make us a family."

He smiled sheepishly. "You were right about me and Isabelle, too. She did grow up, even though I tried to deny it for the longest time. And, I'll always love you, but, honestly, I love her, too. Things have changed a lot since we were married, and I'm a completely different man now. I don't know whether that's a good thing or not, but it can't be helped."

"I know exactly what you're," he pointed to James' headstone, "thinking. That I'm saying that I'm in love with little Isabelle, who used to play in mud puddles and climb trees. And, I'll have you know that she still plays in mud puddles and climbs trees. Except now, she's got a body to die for and that mud looks sexy as—ouch!"

He rubbed his head gingerly, where a knot was quickly forming. A large tree branch lay on the ground from where it smacked his head a minute ago. Irritated, he picked it up and chucked it across the plot.

"Look, mate. Have you seen her lately? All I'm saying is that it's nice when she makes mud pies with Abbie, ok? Seriously, man-to-man, I love her." Another branch tumbled to the ground, landing at his feet. "I get the point. I know that I, of all people, certainly don't deserve her. Especially after everything that I've done to her."

"She's so sweet, and generous, and smart, and funny, and – well, I could go on all day. Pathetic, isn't it? Even though her life has basically sucked, she's always optimistic. And, it's my fault that her life turned out the way that it did. If I had never left all those years ago, maybe she wouldn't have been shipped to America."

"Then, she wouldn't have married that abusive git," he said, wanting to punch something repeatedly. "Can you believe that anybody could ever hurt Isabelle like that? Wife-beaters deserve a special place in hell."

"It's completely my fault that she married him. I was so naïve, and thought that maybe all of the love she got from us, and the therapy, would make up for the abuse somehow. Even Snape put her in therapy, which is one of the few good decisions that he's ever made. But, it didn't make a bloody bit of difference because she married an abusive git just like her daddy."

"At least she had the sense to leave him. But, to make an extremely long story short, she got mixed up with me over Easter holidays." He looked overhead before continuing. "Turns out she's kind of fancied me since, uh, forever. And, I'm crazy about her, so we, um, you get the idea."

"I swear, Lil, that I had the best intentions with your sister. I still do. All I want to do is marry her and devote the rest of my life to making her happy. But, just when things were really going well, I completely panicked. I saw her give an old boyfriend a hug, and went off the deep end. I mean, I went completely psycho. If any guy ever spoke to my daughter that way, he'd be occupying a spot in this cemetery. Even if what I said was true, I had no place saying any of it. Just the idea of her running around on me broke my heart, and I wanted to hurt her to feel as bad as I did."

"But, it didn't really work because I ended up feeling worse than she ever could. Whenever I'd see her walking around the castle on the verge of tears because I happened to be around, it was like someone was stabbing me over and over again. Worse than that, I miss her like crazy."

"I don't trust myself around her though. What if we got back together, and I hurt her again? I have a tendency of saying really stupid things that I wish that I could take back. Isabelle deserves so much better than that. She deserves so much more than I have to offer. What am I? An emotionally repressed, bordering on middle-aged wizard with the most notorious reputation around. Well, except for Voldie."

"Plus, I lose everyone I love. I swear that I must be cursed or something. Look at all of you; I loved all of you more than my own life, and you're all dead. My daughter got sent to the Muggle dentists, and Harry to idiotic Petunia. My Isabelle spent her teenage years with Snape, and they're close to this day. That's bloody insulting."

"I'm scared. I'm really scared that I'll lose her again. I buried her once; I don't think I could do it again. So, maybe if I just don't get too close to her, she won't die. Yeah, I know that sounds stupid, but I'm paranoid."

"I want to do what's best for her, and I don't know what that is. Part of me wants to hold her and never let her go. But, the other part of me knows that I'm nowhere near good enough for her, and thinks that I should just leave her alone. What I need is a sign. And, I'm a little dense when it comes to the obvious, so it should be a really big sign. Preferably with neon."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, and closed it abruptly as a thunderous boom rumbled through the air. He turned in the direction of the blast, temporarily blinded by a bright green flash of light. As his eyesight returned, he heard a desperate scream pierce the air.

"Papa! Are you here?" Hermione wailed, wrenching the gate open and running through the plot, hurtling herself into his arms. "I've looked for you everywhere. I should've guessed that you'd be here. You have to come quick. He's fighting Isabelle a-and h-he kil-killed--"

"Whoa. If you want me to help you, you're going to have to slow down," he said in a calming voice, leading her to a bench.

All of his Ministry training kicked in, forcing him to be rational and get the details from Hermione first so that he knew what he was dealing with. She took a deep breath, and bit her lip to keep from crying.

"He attacked me, but Viktor pushed me out of the way. I think he'd dead." Her eyes spilled over. "And Isabelle told me to run, so I did. They're fighting."

"Who is Isabelle fighting?"

"Sergei Remizov."

"Shit. Did that blast come from our house?" he asked carefully, trying not to upset Hermione. She nodded, crying harder.

"Hey," he said reassuringly, "Isabelle's a strong witch, and she has a lot of dueling experience. More than I probably want to know about, even. She's also tough as hell. I think she's indestructible."

She smiled briefly through her tears. "I know."

"I need for you to do something for me? Can you do that?"

"Yeah," she answered in a small voice.

"Do you know where Harry is?"

"With Ron at Phillip's office. They're going over strategies for the Quiddich match next week."

"Good. I need you to go find Harry, and tell him what happened. Then, I need for you to send Phillip and Bill to the house right away. You and Harry are to stay with the kids at Phillip's flat until someone comes to get you. No sneaking out to do hero stuff." He said the last part as sternly as he could.

"Yes, sir," she said, glassy-eyed.

Sirius watched Hermione run off towards Hogsmeade before rushing off in the opposite direction. There was a shortcut to the faculty grounds through the cemetery that few people knew about. Obviously Remizov did; otherwise, how could he have gotten on grounds?

As he ran, he fervently hoped that the children would take his warning seriously. By the look on Hermione's face, he figured that she could at least stall Harry long enough for the adults to secure the situation first. He knew that they always had the best intentions at heart, but they were still children and didn't realize that their youth was a weakness in itself.

Although, he reminded himself, Hermione's the same age Isabelle was when I went to prison. And, she held her own just fine. But, Isabelle's cut out of a different mold than the rest of us are. She's scrappy, and a survivor.

He repeated his last thought over and over, especially as the house came into view. Or rather, the remains of what used to be a beautiful brick Georgian-style house. The roof was completely caved in, threatening to flatten the house any minute. Bricks had been thrown as far as the cemetery gate; no glass remained in any window.

A wave of panic overtook him as the memory of searching another decimated house entered his mind. He put his hands on his knees and took several deep breaths to calm down. It was difficult enough to face the present situation without being haunted by the painful experience of digging through his best friend's ransacked house, only to find he and Lily dead.

Loud footsteps echoed through the lane. He looked up, never so grateful to see Severus Snape in his entire life. Much as he hated the fact, Snape had just as much business here as he did.

And, Isabelle needed all the help that she could get at this point. It was fairly clear that the duel was long over, and this would be primarily a search and recovery mission. Time was of the essence, and the more people to help, the better.

Right when Snape reached Sirius and began to talk, the house collapsed with a deafening roar. Both men watched in horror as the outer walls of the building imploded, shooting timbers, bricks and dust everywhere. What was a sprawling, two-story home now stood ten feet tall, at the most.

"Shit!" they screamed simultaneously, racing for what was the front door. They scrambled to the top of the incredibly unstable heap of rubble, looking around furtively for any clue to Isabelle's whereabouts.

"That's where the living room was," Sirius pointed, attempting to be calm. "Let's start there."

Severus nodded curtly, and the two men began levitating and discarding the remains of the top floor. After a few minutes, the battered living room furniture became visible. They jumped into the crater that they created, and started carefully sifting through the room.

By the ruins of the staircase, Sirius spied a hand sticking out from under a pile of bricks. He quickly moved the bricks, revealing Viktor's body. A stab of guilt hit him, mostly because he never liked Krum very much, and was never thrilled that he was dating Hermione. And yet, because of his sacrifice, she lived.

"I found Krum," he choked out.

"And I found Remizov," Severus answered quietly. "What's left of him."

Sirius raced over to where Severus stood, and looked down at the man who tried to destroy his family. He fought the urge to become violently ill at the sight before him. Isabelle didn't just kill him; she made it so that Remizov was barely recognizable as a human being.

"I'd say he's dead," Sirius said gratefully, thankful that he could never hurt anyone again.

"Which means that Isabelle can't be far away," Severus said, mostly to himself.

They doubled their efforts, desperately hoping to find her alive. Sirius overturned the sofa to find a limp, lifeless Isabelle. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor beside her in total grief and shock. Her lips and hands were a pale blue. His mind told him to check for a pulse, but his body wouldn't move, fearing confirmation of the worst.

Irate at Sirius' inertia, Severus stepped over him and gently took her wrist in his. No pulse. He closed his eyes to blink back tears, and checked the carotid artery in her neck with trembling fingers. To his immense relief, he felt a faint heartbeat. He bent over her head to try to listen to her breathing, but didn't hear anything. As he placed his hand over her diaphragm to make sure she was breathing, he suddenly remembered the baby.

And, how much it destroyed Isabelle the last time that Remizov murdered her child. He looked at Sirius, full of rage at the man who supposedly loved her, created a child with her, but hasn't made a single move to help her. Or even asked to find out if she's alive or dead. Disgusted, Severus gingerly picked her up to carry her to the hospital wing.

"I won't let you lose your baby this time, Isabelle," he whispered softly in her ear, just loud enough for Sirius to hear.

Severus knew he had no clue that she was carrying his child, and wanted him to know exactly how much he had to lose if she died. And for her sake, he hoped that Sirius would care. He navigated up the mound of rubble, leaving a stunned Sirius behind.

Isabelle's pregnant? Sirius thought, completely in a daze. Why didn't she tell me? Because it's not yours, you git. She'd tell me if it was my baby, right? Why wouldn't she? She knows that I love children.

Heartbroken, he stood up to follow Severus to the hospital wing. As he reached the lane to the main castle, Phillip and Bill ran up to him, in a panic. He looked at the two men jealously. Either one of them could very well be the father of Isabelle's child, a privilege he would give nearly anything to have. Without a word to either man, he stomped off.