Sirius looked at the watch on his wrist and sighed. Rachel was late; if she was even coming at all, that is. He leaned against the dark oak tree and looked up at the stars above. "You should know by now that it is not my style to simply drop from the sky." A female voice spoke in his ear from behind. "Hallo, Uncle." "Rachel, thank you for coming to see me." He gave her a warm hug and looked her over. She had changed in the time since he had last seen her, almost a year ago at her wedding. "It wasn't easy, Sirius." Rachel Malfoy frowned deeply into her pale face. "Draco and the others, they would not be pleased knowing I am meeting with you." "But you came anyway, and I thank you for it." He smiled at her a little and pat her on the shoulder. "What do you want, Uncle?" She looked away from his eyes so they could not search her own. "I know that there is some ulterior motive for this meeting." "Rachel, you are not like this..." "Uncle..." She protested. "No, let me finish." He urged. "You used to be such a cheerful and sweet young woman when you were with me at the Grimmuald home. I know that somewhere inside, you are not this hardened killer and criminal." He bit his bottom lip. "This is me, this is the way I am." She clenched her fists. "If you do not like it, then you do not have to speak with me ever again." It was not what she wanted, but she could not change the way she is. "Rachel..." He tried to reach out to her again, but she recoiled. "You don't love this life, you don't really love that Malfoy..." "No, Uncle," She held back a tear in her eyes. "I do love Draco. He is... he treats me wonderfully, and he loves me too." She argued her situation to her uncle. "I may not have wanted to marry him at that time, but, I love him now." "Rachel, I saw how you killed Dean." Sirius' pupils had nearly dissipated. "I do my duties, just as you do yours now." Her voice showed nothing but strength. "I will not help you. I will not betray my family, my friends," She gazed straight into his eyes. "I will not betray the man that I love for a cause I do not believe in."

Harry Potter leaned over the wooden desk chair in his office, a frown enveloping every inch of his body. "Are you sure about these numbers?" He asked the brunette in the fire. "Yes, Harry," Hermione sighed. "There are 78 dead from last night's attack in Versailles." Harry allowed a sigh to release the tension in his shoulders for a moment; he could feel an all too familiar stress knot forming on the back of his neck and he rubbed the offending area. As the newly appointed Head Auror; a post he had earned for obvious reasons, he was finding himself under an immense amount of stress. "What's Ron doing about it?" He pushed a lock of his sweat-covered long black hair out of his eyes. "He sent Sirius to speak with Rachel." "Rachel?" "His niece, Harry", Hermione reminded her longtime friend. "The one who married Draco Malfoy." "Malfoy..." Harry spat on the floor. "That sonuva..." "She was the one who killed Dean," Hermione bit her lip. "Sirius seems to think that she isn't so evil." "She's a Malfoy." "Well, she WAS a Black." "Most of Sirius' family was horrible." Harry crossed his arms. "Sirius seems to think otherwise about her, at least." "She deserves to die, they all do." "Harry, that's not right." Hermione frowned. "How's Ginny, by the way?" "She's healing quickly." He loosened his tone. "Thank God." "That's real good," Hermione smiled. "I have to go." She said quickly. "See you at the meeting." "Later." Harry gave her a slight wave as her head disappeared and then went back to his work.

"This is good," Lord Voldemort smiled maliciously. "You have pleased your Lord, Malfoy." "Thank you for your praise, My Lord. I am happy to have served you well." Draco bowed. "And your wife, where is she?" Voldemort looked around the parlor of the Malfoy Manor. "She has done particularly well..." "I am here, My Lord." Rachel walked into the house, taking off her velvet cloak and hanging it on the coat-rack. "I apologize for my tardiness," She walked into the parlor; cheeks flushed pink from the cold outside. "I went for a walk." "I was just saying how pleased I am with the work you two have done." Voldemort kissed Rachel's hand. Now that he had fully regained his power, he looked like his old, strong self once more. "Clearly, marrying the two of you was a stroke of genius." "You have many strokes of genius, My Lord," Rachel smirked. "Perhaps we should call a Healer, so many strokes can be fatal." He gave a small laugh and let go of her hand. "Darling, would you please be so kind as to bring in the potion? I have forgotten where you put it this morning." Draco kissed her cheek in greeting. "Of course, My Love." She curtsied and went up the grand staircase. "Here it is!" She called as she headed back towards the room. "Ah, thank you, Rachel." Draco held up a vial of sapphire liquid. "Here is what you wanted us to keep, My Lord." He handed the vial to Voldemort, who uncapped and sniffed its contents. "Perfect." He grinned approvingly. "If I may, My Lord," Rachel inquired. "What is that potion for?" "You may indeed, Rachel," He smiled. "It is for you to take." "Me, My Lord? Whatever for?" She wrinkled her brow, a look of surprise on both her face and Draco's. "It is time," Voldemort smiled. "For you two to have a child."