Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

"It's the ugliness men, Mr. Horrible

We're just trying to bug you

We thought our dreadfulness

Might be a thing to annoy you with."

But Mr. Horrible says, "I don't mind,

The thing that bothers me is

Someone keeps moving my chair."

"Would you mind if we balance

This glass of milk

Where your visiting friend

Accidentally was killed?"

The night was dark, yet it was still lit by the moon. Two prisoners enjoyed their freedom while a third sulked in a dress. Though both had black hair only one was concealed by the night.

At the sound of dropping luggage, Sirius tucked himself back into an alley. He couldn't get caught at this point in the game. Almost reluctantly, he crawled forward, curious to see the commotion. Twelve years couldn't steal that memory from him. Time couldn't wear on that face, that figure, that hair. Some things never changed.

In a dog-like manner, he smiled, and in a most human-like gesture, he leaned against a trashcan. The crash made him run for cover, and a lit wand only caught the tip of him.

His first day of freedom and who could blame him for being jumpy? At least he'd seen his godson. Dementors were after him, every Wizard and Muggle was on the look out for him, but somehow seeing his godson made it all disappear. Somehow it made everything else seem unimportant.

~+~+~+~

"Well, Mr. Lupin, here we are," Fae announced, opening her car door. She sniffed the air.

"Sort of takes you back, doesn't it?" Remus asked quietly, stepping from the car.

"Now I wouldn't go that far. Give me a pack of cigarettes and a corner to hide behind--then I'll be back to my youth."

"I thought you gave up smoking?" Vala asked testily.

"Ah, I did," she sighed. "Take me back to the good old days when I could smoke a pack a day and not give a flying rat's a-"

Vala elbowed her. "There's children around, Fae, watch your language." She turned to help Remus with his suitcase.

Fae glimpsed about. "Nothing they haven't heard at home, I'm sure," she muttered.

"-don't be such a child--there's no shame in me helping you," Vala scolded, taking the suitcase from Remus. "Hurry now, we've only got time to get you on and say goodbye," she lectured. "Nine and three-quarters, is it?"

"I should think so," Fae replied, subconsciously padding her pockets for a cigarette. "Time hasn't quite touched Hogwarts."

"You can go first," she said to Fae. "I'll take Remus through."

Fae glanced over her shoulder. "Take your time," she said, observing the crowd. She only waited a minute, then hurried through the barrier. She was relieved, to say the least. Vala was skittish and scared, but around Remus she was different. She spoke freely, and sometimes even sarcastically, but no matter what a translucent smile never left her lips. Maybe perhaps because she had more to prove.

Remus began to walk forward, but Vala tugged on his arm. "Remus? May I have a word with you?"

His brows drew together. Slowly, "Sure, Vala…"

"In Slytherin there's a boy. His name's Draco Malfoy--he's Saxon's cousin. It's best if you don't get mixed up with his sort. He's a cruel, pointy nosed ferret, and his father will do anything to get you out of a job."

"I know of the Malfoys, Vala… They were in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Believe me, I know."

She held up a finger. "I'm not quite finished. Remember, Draco's a Seeker for the Slytherin team--meaning he's not fond of Gryffindor and or Harry."

"How do you know all this?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Because if you're willing to listen you pick up on things. But now it's your turn, so listen up. I want you to keep an eye on Harry. From what Draco's told me, the boy has a tendency of getting into trouble. Though, try not to worry too much--Harry's closest friends are the youngest Weasley boy, and we both know that's an old, respectable Wizarding family, and a young Muggle-born girl. Watch them, Remus, I'm counting on you." Twelve years or not, she was still concerned about the welfare of her little brother, even if he wasn't a brother at all. It's funny, she reflected, I used to hate him after Lily and James' death. After all, he only misses the thought of his parents, I miss the people.

"That's a lot to live up to," he commented. "Keeping a Potter in line when they're natural rule-breakers."

"Yes," she smiled, "But who better to place to trust?" She checked her watch. "It's about time… Are you ready?"

He smiled weakly and nodded.

"Then let's go," she chirped, leading forward.

On the other side Fae stood watching the train. Her eyes trailed the cheerful children with a look of interest. She moved her lips in silence, listening to thoughts or perhaps only yearning for a cigarette; it'd been months, but the cravings were still strong for her. In a sense it was ironic. She could tap into other's minds and command their thoughts, but she could never control her own.

"Take care of yourself," Vala reminded, a simple phrase that compacted everything from 'be careful' to 'I love you.'

"And don't forget to send us the Quidditch schedule and stats," Fae advised, turning on her heel to glance at him, the broken end of a quill pressed between her lips. "Grant's a fan and he likes to keep up with the old teams."

Vala calculated in her head, though she subconsciously already knew the date. "We graduated from Hogwarts twelve years ago."

"He's friendly with a few of the older Weasley boys, and I think he likes to rub Slytherin's winnings in their faces."

"I knew Bill…" she trailed thoughtfully. Snapping back, "But wasn't his younger brother--Charlie, was it?--Good at Quidditch?"

"He was brilliant," Fae answered, her eyes drifting over the students again. "But he graduated a few years back, and now only the four younger boys attend it. We still see Bill around, at Gringotts and such, but it's not a rare occasion when Grant invited him down to The Clover for a drink or two."

Vala and Remus exchanged glanced; Fae had never expressed any interest in society before and suddenly she seemed to burst with it.

She carried on, "The twins are Beaters for Gryffindor, and quite good at it, and the Potter kid's a pretty good Seeker, but Grant's feeling confident about Slytherin's fairly new brooms and Seeker." Finally, she directed her gaze back to Vala. "Isn't their Seeker Saxon's cousin?"

"Yes, it's Draco… But how do you know so much?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Grant's a big Quidditch fan, he likes to keep up with those kind of things." Naturally, that meant Fae knew more than she wanted to about Quidditch and all the House players.

Remus patted Fae's back sympathetically. "I guess I'll be off then."

Vala kissed his cheek in a hurry and shuffled him to the train. It wasn't quite time for them to leave, but she thought it better for him to get a seat before all the students were settled.

"How can a man age so quickly?" Fae mumbled to herself. She picked out details from his posture and profile. Small creases in his forehead suggested long hours of concentration and thought. The grey hairs hinted at endless exhaustion. Over the years, he lost his grace and balance. He was still sleek, and even quick, but looked as if he hadn't eaten a proper meal in months. Pushed too hard, and he looked as if he would fall.

Fae had never known him very well, but she could suspect that he'd only gotten worse. She'd seen the pictures. He was a quiet and amused boy who grew into a reserved and interested man. He was handsome, intelligent, and independent… He had it all. Then his life changed, and he was still struggling to adjust.

He could never adjust. Fae knew it. Fae feared it. From this stage he could only grow older. More silent and more tired. And thus was the fate of a young man. Fae sighed.

She perked; Vala had returned. "Ready?"

"Yeah…" she glimpsed longingly over her shoulder. "I hope he'll be okay."

"I'm sure he will."

They strolled alongside each other. The end of a quill stuck like a blade of grass from Fae's lips. She chewed on the end, the feather bouncing in the breeze.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine," she lied.

~+~+~+~

"You see that?" Grant sprung from his seat, his eyes darting through the darkness. He shot a look at Fae. "It looked like a Grim!"

She sat in an outdoor rocking chair with waterproof padding. Her forearm and head resting on the arm, she watched the flames of a candle flicker. Lazily, she ran her pointer around the rim, occasionally dipping her fingertips into the melted wax. "Sit down, there's no such thing as a Grim."

Reluctantly, he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his seat, slowly sliding back into it. "I just saw a big, black Grim. You know what that means, don't you?" he asked, steadily watching the shadows.

"Yes, come tomorrow morning we'll have overturned trashcans and our trash strategically scattered across our lawn in one, big, deadly omen." She waved a few fingers over the flame.

He pointed a finger accusingly. "Don't you taunt! Next they'll be coming for you!"

"Then let them take me," she said, raising her head a little.

He waved the finger at her. "Don't you even say that! Mark my words, everything I say is true."

"Oh come off." She redirected her gaze to him. "You don't honestly believe that, do you? If Grims existed they'd be in churchyards. They don't just wander everywhere, you know." She sighed and turned her eyes back to the candle. "You've been spending too much time at that bar of yours. All those silly men and their drinks have been filling your head with stories and lies. You need to get out more. Breath the fresh air, smell the roses." She looked at him. "Try to live a normal life for once."

Grant dropped his gaze. In a whisper, "You can't ask me to change my life like that… I can't just wake up one morning and decide to be another person. It doesn't work like that." He looked up.

She sighed. Living with Grant was difficult. No matter what perspective you took on it they were two entirely different people. Grant loved crowds, and being with people in general. He liked to talk and meet new people. Grant was, in short, a people person. Fae was not. She hated crowds, she hated making new acquaintances, and she hated talking to people.

Explanations and theories fell short when it came to Fae and Grant. They loved each other, and there wasn't much more you could say about them.

"Can't you? I've dropped my smoking and yet you continue your drinking? Such battles are often fought and rarely won," she breathed against the flame. "Come, let us be each others good and bad examples." She licked her fingers and smothered the flame.

~+~+~+~

An inner voice from somewhere deep within commanded a less than human mind. Stealthily, a black shadow crept across Hogsmeade. Tangled and matted fur hung loosely on a frail frame.

"Look mommy! A puppy dog!"

Sirius looked up hopefully, a consistent hunger ringing in his stomach.

"Don't feed the stray, honey, it may have rabies," the mother warned, pulling her daughter away.

His shoulders sagged, but he continued on in a lazy, haphazardly walk. Though he the grass only grew greener and the sun brighter, he was starving.

Sirius Black was on the loose, but the world continued to spin. Hogsmeade was packed as usual, and Gringotts was busier than ever. People carried on with their lives, unaware that a dangerous convict was in their presence. Even the realization of their supposed danger wouldn't keep them from their business.

The world was funny like that. It feared and it cried, but nothing could scare it from its work. Jobs had to be done, and at their neglection were the real fears formed.

Sirius trotted past a house and a yard of playing children, his real target was only a few yards away. Sitting back on his haunches, and lifting his paws comically, he begged.

"Now there's a good dog," the old man complimented. "Would that be a good girl or boy?"

With a puzzling expression, he tilted his head to one side.

The man bent to have a closer look. "My eyes aren't as good as they used to be… Let's see here. Ah, a boy! And what a boy!"

In the depths of his mind, Sirius felt extreme embarrassment and violation. He whined.

The man leaned against his cane. "Hungry, boy?"

He wagged his tailed heartily, his tongue bouncing from his mouth.

He chuckled and tossed the dog a scrap of bread.

Sirius ate it whole, and begged for more.

"Careful, boy." The man ran a hand across his stomach. "Hmm… I can see you need this more than me. Well, be a good boy and stay out of my trash," he said, tossing the rest of the sandwich to Sirius and strolling off.

The dog nodded once and gobbled down the sandwich.

Things were beginning to look up for him, and five minutes later he was on his way again.

(A/N: I was at a bit of a loss as to what I should call this chapter, so… you can't go wrong with the 'Giants'!)