As always, thanks to Ambush99 for betaing this chapter.
Chapter 13
"So, you didn't find any trace of Crouch?" Moody asked.
Sirius leant back on the chair and interlaced his fingers as he thought for a moment. "No," he said simply. "But whoever did it had less than a five minute window to stun Krum, kill Crouch then dispose of his body."
"You believe he's dead?"
"Yeah, he escaped to deliver that message," Sirius stopped as a dark shadow passed his eyes.
"Sirius?"
"It's just, he escaped but they still caught up with him."
"How did you escape?"
"I transformed and managed to slip through the cell bars. I transformed back when I swam across the sea; it uses less energy to swim as a human than a dog," Sirius explained.
"Do you remember where you were held?"
"No, I'm sorry," Sirius said in a hollow voice. "I still only remember flashes."
"No, its okay laddie."
"Why?"
"Why did you survive and not Crouch?" Moody replied. "I don't know; youth, luck, being in the right place at the right time."
"But Crouch was. He was there at Hogwarts. I lost count of the times I thought I couldn't go on. The number of times I fell asleep and didn't think I would wake up. Then, well…" Sirius trailed off for a moment. "Crouch was so close."
"Laddie, you know better than anyone, life sometimes just isn't fair, and after thirteen years I think you were long overdue some luck. I know it's not the satisfying answer you were probably looking for, but it's all I've got." Moody paused as he watched the younger man carefully. "Do you want to take the rest of the day off?"
"No, I'm fine," Sirius said dismissively. "Just if… I don't know."
"When was the first time you suspected he was under the Imperius Curse?"
Sirius rubbed his face. "The second task."
"That was the first time you had seen him in, what, thirteen and a half years?"
"Yeah, if I'd just mentioned it then, maybe…"
"Sure, maybe Crouch would still be alive," Moody cut in. "Then, maybe if I had recognised the signs, I mean I only see him every day, then maybe he would still be alive. But maybe it wouldn't have made a fat lot of difference and he would still be dead. Sirius, you cannot live with 'what if's or 'maybe'; you know that."
"I just feel that I could have done something," Sirius said guiltily.
"We all do." Moody paused for a moment, as though he were holding a moment's silence for their fallen colleague. "How's your 'project' going?"
"I met with Arthur Weasley."
"And?"
"He's a good, principled, intelligent man, but…"
"But?"
"He has a family; four of them are still at Hogwarts. I-I can't get him involved in something like this."
"Sirius, if you start discounting people because they have families and the like, we won't have anyone. We are going to be at war. People know the risks. People need to make choices, they will need to make sacrifices," Moody said passionately. "Weasley is an adult. He knows the risks. No family will come out of this unscathed."
"I know," Sirius growled. "Why the fuck do you think I became a secret keeper last time? So Harry had a chance to grow up with his parents!"
"Sirius, you can't save everyone."
"I know, but I'd rather not be the instigator in their deaths," Sirius retorted.
"As you said, Weasley is intelligent. He's offering to help you. I guarantee you he's figured out your play. He knows the risks," Moody argued back.
"What if you're wrong?!"
"Sirius, there are no guarantees in life. We just need to act on the facts we have available to us at the time."
"Sorry, Moody that's not good enough for me. I will not involve innocent people in…"
"What Sirius? Do you believe Voldemort will return? Do you believe we will be at war? Do you believe Fudge is misguided?"
"Yes!" Sirius yelled. "I know that bastard is alive and going to return. We need to stop him!"
"Then what are we wrong about?" Moody pressed.
"I don't know, Moody. I made my choices, but they were my choice."
"Surely, Weasley should be allowed to make his choice?"
"I guess so," Sirius said quietly. "I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Good, and Sirius, don't stay at Grimmauld Place tonight, go back with Potter," Moody suggested. "I think Potter would like to hear this coming from you."
Sirius nodded. He was conflicted; part of him just wanted to hide away to try and figure out what had just happened, but he knew he owed it to James and Lily. Without another word, he turned and headed towards Potter Manor.
Sirius leant back on his chair and threw his feet up on the table, not caring what mark it would leave. After all the years of neglect, coupled with his distinct lack of affection for the place, the years' worth of dust and grime had grown unchecked, so his boots adding a bit of London grime to the table wouldn't exactly make a lot of difference. He'd seen, rather he'd heard, Kreacher the old house-elf wandering around, muttering insults at him. What the elf had been doing for the last few years, bar worshipping his dead mother, Sirius did not know, nor did he care. 12 Grimmauld Place had never been a home to him, nor was it now. It was a place he could sleep for a few hours, if he was lucky, and change his clothes. The only reason he maintained it was for strategic purposes. With a war brewing they would need safe houses and Grimmauld Place couldn't be more prefect; with its location and protective wards only second perhaps to Hogwarts, it was not something he wanted to fall to the dark side. He wasn't sure of his parents' will, but he was sure, if he renounced the place, it would fall into the hands of his deranged cousin, Bella. Something he couldn't let happen.
He rubbed his face for a moment. Crouch, he thought, Crouch had been missing for nearly a month and was now presumed dead; a fact that he continued to struggle with on a daily basis. He knew what Moody had said made sense, but he still wondered if his hesitance had played a role in Crouch's death. What had Crouch been involved in? Had he been under the Imperius Curse? Questions that remained unanswered. Questions he needed to be answered. He yawned as he stretched out. Another night in which he had only managed to catch a couple of hours sleep. Glancing at his watch at half past five, he knew sleep was pointless now. It didn't come naturally to him these days in any case. He might as well make use of the peace of the empty office. He was behind on Moody's plan, but he knew it needed time. He wondered how much his reluctance to get people was hampering things. He knew the people he was recruiting knew the risks; he just didn't feel comfortable in putting them at risk. That's why Moody was wrong. He wasn't a leader, he was just, well, he was just Sirius. Yawning loudly, he flung his long legs off the table and headed out of the door and towards the Ministry.
His journey to the Ministry generally took half an hour on the Northern Line. Sure, he could arrive at the Ministry instantaneously, but he enjoyed the quiet contemplation of the near empty tube during the early hours. The time away from the magical community allowed him to collect his thoughts. He wondered why Moody had chosen him, why not Kingsley, Dawlish, Beck or anyone else for that matter. What did Moody, and everyone else, see in him? Did they really think he could lead the magical community to victory? He, a man who slept four hours a night, if lucky. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to turn his attention back to Machiavelli's Prince. Whatever the future held, he knew his political game needed work. He needed to quash his outbursts and turn them to his strategic advantage, and he hoped Machiavelli held the key. Even if it didn't help him, he hoped it would wake Fudge up to the fact there was more at stake than his reputation and his bloody Duck house.
After the short walk from Charing Cross station to the Ministry, he found himself staring blankly at the menu.
"You look like you need a coffee as badly as I do."
Sirius spun around and smiled. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour, Amelia?" he said with a smile.
Amelia frowned. "The WP meeting. Didn't anyone tell you about the change?"
"No, it must have slipped their minds," Sirius said, wincing as the scalding liquid burnt his throat.
"Of course it did," Amelia said unconvincingly. "Would you like to see the agenda?"
"Thank you," Sirius said, taking it and briefly scanning it. So, Fudge had upped the game, or did he blame him for Crouch's disappearance?
"I think he does respect you, but at the moment I think he's threatened by you."
"What?" Sirius exclaimed lightly as he looked up from the piece of parchment.
"He thinks you are after his job," Amelia explained.
"He cannot be serious!"
"Have you seen this poll?" Amelia said, handing Sirius a copy of Witch Weekly.
"Err, I don't tend to read that magazine," Sirius said politely with a slight smile.
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Fudge's approval rating is 45, yours is 70."
"They cannot be serious! They actually polled me for Minister?!" Sirius said as he flicked through the magazine.
"Why not?" Amelia said as she leant over and picked the relevant page.
Sirius stared at the page in disbelief.
The end of Fudge?
Under the flamboyant headline there was a photo of him and Fudge leaving the most recent WP meeting. He never really considered his height before now, but he was at least a head taller than Fudge. He frowned as he read on.
Should Sirius Black become Minister of Magic? In a recent poll conducted by Witch Weekly, 70% of interviewees said they thought Sirius Black would do a good or very good job, opposed to 45% who rated Cornelius Fudge as good or very good. It isn't difficult to see why! Fudge has long ruled the Ministry, with his misguided principles slowly turning into a dictatorship. Since 1990 he has only used the Wizengamot five times to vote and debate policy, preferring to hold all policy making decisions behind closed doors during his 'Weekly Policy' meetings. Every single motion had been passed during these meetings, until Sirius Black joined them. Sirius Black: the intelligent, powerful, youthful, war hero.
Sirius looked up in disbelief again. "I say it again, but they cannot be serious!"
"Why? Are you saying Miranda Rumdold could be sued for libel?" Amelia challenged. "Because I don't think she could."
Sirius was momentarily speechless, thrown by Amelia's words. "I-I, well I just think it's just a bit far fetched, that's all. It's all very well saying I could do a better job than Fudge, but-" He stopped and shrugged his shoulders. "What's the saying? 'Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes'. It's easy to sit back and judge."
"Of course," Amelia said with raised eyebrows. "Shall we head down to the meeting? What were you doing here so early anyway?"
"Catching up with paperwork," Sirius lied as he held the lift door open. He stood in silence as the lift made its way down towards the Minister's office. It was some stupid article in Witch Weekly he told himself. The polls were meaningless. Then why was he still thinking about it? As the lift doors slid open, he followed Amelia out.
"Ah, so you got the owl?" Fudge said nervously as he came face to face with Sirius.
"No, it must have just missed me. But, as luck would have it, I met Madam Bones when I was getting a coffee," Sirius said with a forced smile.
"Ah, yes how lucky," Fudge trailed off, failing to hide his disappointment. "So, shall we start the meeting?"
Sirius nodded and followed the other members of the cabinet into the room, as he tried to figure out Fudge's agenda. Surely, some silly article in Witch Weekly, which as well as remarking on his intelligence and war record, had compared his and Fudge's policy differences along with their physical appearance. Had the Minister of Magic really taken the article seriously, or was there something far more serious in play?
