Updated: Saturday December 17 2005

Chapter 10: Unusual Requests

"No, absolutely not!"

The majority of the Order was vehemently against admitting two under-aged students into their ranks. Estella's demands, however, were clear, and she was not willing to compromise. If she were expected to supply the Order with special brooms – which, as Benson had explained to her, are best made from scratch if the charms are to have any chance of lasting – then she had a right to be kept informed of the Order's goings on. Though Estella was reluctant to name specific examples, the stubborn Ravenclaw was aware – on account of veiled grumbling from her father and cousin to that effect – of several actual Order members whose case load amounted to but a fifth of what was being asked of her. She resented being denied on account of age alone, and, in submitting her conditions, she had been sure to include Harry. The boy, after all, was expected to be some miraculous saviour all because of a prophecy made by none other than the ridiculous Trelawney, and yet the adults were all of the delusion that he should have a 'normal' childhood. Right, like being raised away from the wizarding world to escape the fame and spending ten of the first eleven years of his life living in a cupboard could ever be considered normal! That's not even considering the plethora of 'normal' childhood experiences he'd been subjected to ever since, what, with Dark Lords, Basilisks, Trolls, Dragons and wrongly accused godfathers and all.

In the end, Dumbledore had no choice but to support Estella's decision to apply for membership. Harry too, once he had returned with Tonks and the Weasleys, was keen to join once he'd been called in to 'talk sense' into Estella. That Dumbledore intended to call upon the young Gryffindor's help with 'pressing matters' during the school term only strengthened the resolve of both teenagers. At first, Albus humoured both children without commitment, inwardly hopeful that their guardian would know better than to give his consent. Fresh from a drinking binge and riddled with guilt for their very public 'wobbly' in Diagon Alley, both men were, however, demonstrably reluctant to draw the girl's ire.

As much as they all hated to admit it, Estella's arguments were sound. Being an Order member did not automatically throw a person's life in danger. The whole nature of the membership was that those outside the organisation's alumni were unaware that the 'old crowd' even existed. Only those who were visibly in the front line in the stance against Voldemort were at risk. Missions were allocated according to circumstance and ability, and, if what was already expected of the pair was anything to go by, there were plenty of things the two could do amongst the student body without drawing any undue attention upon themselves. What's more, they didn't have to worry about reprisals from the Dark Lord for their joining – Voldemort was already out for their blood.

No, the general consensus of the convened conglomerate of Order members was not the disagreement about how safe the children would be amongst their ranks, but rather, how inappropriate it would be to expose them to the privileged information that embodied the typical meeting. Those members that were parents – the ones with red hair in particular – were concerned that if word got around that two children were already members, then all children would want to join. Paranoid old Aurors (especially those with wooden legs) were of the mind that children were unreliable and incapable of keeping the Order's secrets. Becoming an Order member was not something to be taken lightly, after all.

"Who is to say we would want to tell our friends of our involvement?" Estella argued, levelling her eyes at one wizard who had questioned their ability to protect the integrity of the secret organisation. "If you were aware of the circumstances surrounding my childhood with my uncle, you would see ample evidence of my ability to keep such secrets." She turned to Harry. "I respected my father's wishes not to tell Harry of the prophecy, didn't I? And as for Harry, what do you think he'd have to gain from telling others what he knows? He already gets enough unwanted attention as it is."

"Well how would you attend meetings during the term?" another witch asked, trying to find a flaw in the teenager's proposition.

"The same way Professor Dumbledore and my uncle do," said Estella. "Very carefully."

Catching her uncle's eye as she said that, Estella was rewarded to see the corners of the man's mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly. She had guessed correctly that the narrow-faced woman was not one of her uncle's favourite people.

"I think you may find that as young people, we could offer a very fresh and unique perspective of things," suggested Harry diplomatically. "Especially when it comes to issues that would directly affect us."

Whether they found merit in his argument, or were simply blinded by his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived, neither teenager was sure, but several heads began nodding in agreement.

"I cannot believe that this is even being considered!" an extremely old, indignant looking man protested. "These are children! Irrespective of the gravity of what is being asked of them, they should do what their elders tell them to do, without question; and certainly without these little ultimatums!"

An equal number of the older members began nodding and muttering agreement with the new speaker's claims.

"If her guardians give their consent, then I don't see a problem," said Kingsley, in a surprising show of support. "You cannot deny that between those three-" at this he pointed towards Sirius, Remus and Severus "- that between these three, the kid isn't pushing for this blindly."

"And who said that all adults are suited for raising children?" said Molly Weasley shrilly. "I don't have anything against you, Sirius, I am only concerned for the children's welfare… maybe if you had raised these children since infancy, you would realise just how young they still are."

"Tell me this, Molly," Sirius shot back. "Hasn't it ever occurred to you to wonder why when your boys fly the nest, they flee as far as they can? Egypt? Romania, is it? And isn't that one with glasses working for the Ministry? Tell me, Molly, when was the last time he spoke to you?"

Seeing the look of horror on Molly Weasley's face, Estella wanted to whoop and give her father a high five. Arthur, meanwhile, had risen to his feet to defend his wife.

"Now look here, Sirius," the normally calm and quietly spoken Arthur Weasley said firmly. "My wife has valid concerns for these children's welfare. She doesn't deserve to be spoken to in that way."

"And I don't deserve to be judged on every goddamn parenting decision that I make!" spat Sirius. "Turn about is fair play, Molly. Either learn to fly or don't play Quidditch."

Several of the younger Order members looked as though they had just found a new messiah. It appeared that many people had been coddled by Molly Weasley over the years and, until now, no one had succeeded in dressing her down. Feeling the eyes of reverence on him, Sirius stood and pulled himself up to his full height. His eyes finding Estella's he directed his next statement at her.

"Standing before us are two of the most resourceful, brave, and determined young people I know," he said soberly – sobering charms were good for that. "They have already demonstrated that they can get themselves out of situations that I seriously doubt most of the people in this room-" he looked at Molly "-could even hope to survive. Now, in exchange for services that Dumbledore has assured us only they can provide, they have rightfully requested admittance into our ranks-" he looked at Estella intently "-and who am I to deny that?"

"Are you suggesting that we treat these children as our equals? As our peers?" the indignant man got back up on his soap box.

"Why not," said Harry, not missing a beat. "Voldemort has already marked me as his equal."

"Yeah, and how many of you can say you've danced with the devil and lived to kiss and tell?" Estella added colourfully, then, seeing how many of them had cringed at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, she shook her head. "Look at yourselves, cringing at a name! Pathetic! To think Voldemort isn't even his real name anyway…"

Dumbledore, who had until this point remained silent, was sitting at his place at the head of the table with a whimsical smile on his face. He'd not been to such a lively meeting since these young people's parents were all alive. Whether the older constituents of the Order wanted to admit it or not, the fight against the evil of the world was shifting into the hands of the next generation. Perhaps the wheels were starting to turn a little sooner than anticipated, but why put off inevitability? Having taught and governed over the likes of Estella Black and Harry Potter for well over a century, Albus Dumbledore knew better than most that the question of age and authority would not stop them. It was better for them to be a part of the action where adults could watch over them closely, than for the children to go behind their backs and allow trouble to find them. Casting his eyes over his loyal circle, Albus was more than well aware that what these two children had to offer outstripped anything many of the other Order members, combined, could ever hope to contribute. Rising to his feet slowly, he held out his arms in a call for attention.

"This arguing is not going anywhere," he said. "It is time to take the usual procedure… who doth nominate these two individuals before us?"

Everyone looked at Sirius to make the first move. Talking about it, and actually solidifying his consent were two different things. Sirius, meanwhile, looked to the headmaster knowingly.

"Ah, good man, Sirius," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "If you would all recall, a candidate's family are not entitled to nominate their kin."

"I'll nominate the spirited little buggers," Kingsley Shacklebolt raised his hand stoically.

"Duly noted," nodded Dumbledore. "A second?"

"I'll second," a woman's voice Estella did not recognise volunteered from the far side of the room.

"Ah, excellent," said Dumbledore, looking positively pleased to be moving on to the next step. "Now, Harry, Estella… would you prefer a closed ballot, or an open vote?"

Harry looked at Estella as though to ask, 'there's a vote?' Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at him, Estella had to forgive the boy for his naiveté. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he wasn't raised in the wizarding world and spent most of his time with Muggles, locked in a cupboard. Taking the lead, Estella answered for them both.

"Open vote," said Estella levelly. "Why hide out intentions? We're all friends here."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Ladies and gentleman, if you would please-"

"I object!" Severus Snape stood suddenly, and Estella had to fight the urge to scream. In some abstract part of her mind, she could see her uncle at her wedding, leaping up and causing a stir when the priest called upon the congregation for someone with a reason why she should not get married. Knowing her uncle, he'd be able to find a fault in just about everyone – that's if he hasn't done a job of running them off before the exchange of vows. She settled for a thinly veiled glare.

"Yes, Severus," said Dumbledore patiently, a coy smile playing at his lips.

"I wish to propose that we vote for the candidates separately," said Severus. "They are, after all, two different people."

"I believe that should be up to them," said another.

Suddenly, all eyes were on them. Harry and Estella looked at each other in silent question. It was very likely that Severus requested that the Order vote for each of them separately because he would never consider voting for Harry. At the same time, it was possible that people would only vote for Harry because he was who he was, and that as a relative unknown, Estella would not be able to get enough votes by herself. For Severus to suggest such a thing, therefore, would meet all the illusive Slytherin's objectives: he wouldn't have to vote for Harry, and by voting for Estella he'd be showing his support for his niece without assuring her a position in the Order. Knowing, though, that to have their votes counted as one would always shadow over her with the unanswered question of 'was she really good enough without Harry', Estella stood her ground.

"Very well," she said politely. "I accept the proposal and wish to be counted separately, if you will."

"But Estella," Harry found his voice, and leaned into her ear, "what if I get in and you don't?"

"Then I'll have more time to, what's that they said –" she gestured broadly to the cluster of members who had voiced their objections "- twiddle my thumbs and play with my Gobstones like a normal little girl." She locked eyes with Dumbledore and shrugged; her threat implicit: no Order, no broomsticks. "And so what, if you don't get in, you'll have more time for your Quidditch and… Potions homework."

"You make it sound as though you don't even want to be members!" a scrawny, straw-haired wizard shook his thumb at them. "This is not a game! Do you have any idea of the commitment you will be prescribing yourselves to…"

"With all due respect, sir," said Estella. "I know full well what I am doing! You ask me if I want to be a member. Yes, yes I do. Do I want to be a normal teenager, yes, I want that too. I'd be stupid not to," she paused, slightly disorientated when she became aware of the fact that she had began to pace up the length of the room. "The point is, ladies and gentleman, is that Harry and I are not normal teenagers. We never have been, and we never will be. You can debate the hows and whys of that until the Chudley Cannons win the World Cup-" several Quidditch-savvy members of the audience snorted and chuckled at the implied joke, and Estella waited for them to settle before continuing. "I'm not here to state my case. All I know is that normal fifteen year old wizards don't carry the fate of the wizarding world on their shoulders; and that fourth year students don't normally moonlight as broom makers. We didn't ask for these responsibilities, and yet they are expected of us," she moved to stand beside Harry once again. Then, taking a line out of her father's book, she threw her arm around Harry's shoulder and smirked. "Turn about is only fair."

Looking around the room as she finished her little impromptu speech, Estella was elated to see many mouths agape in shock. Those that apparently knew her mother began muttering amongst themselves about apples falling off the tree, whilst members of the Ravenclaw alumni were nodding their heads in appreciation. Molly, meanwhile, was staring at her as though she had grown an extra head, and Estella could almost see the woman blaming the fact that she'd had to 'grow up so quickly' on the absence of a mother's apron strings to hide behind. Any minute now, Estella was expecting the woman to storm on over and gather her up in a bone crushing hug, smothering her with an overly large bosom and filling her ears with patented sympathy. Shaking her head at the image, Estella shrugged it off. There were, after all, only three people whose reaction mattered.

Finding her uncle's face first, she saw his usual mask of indifference. She could tell by his eyes, however, that he was smugly revelling in her behaviour and was proud of the fact that she hadn't let Dumbledore guilt her into doing something without retribution. Of all the men in her life, her Uncle Severus was perhaps the most level headed and logical when it came to her wellbeing. Estella knew that he would accept her place in the Order unconditionally because he trusted her instincts and knew that she would never agree to anything foolhardy or dangerous. Of course, Estella didn't doubt that the man would much rather prefer it if her father and Remus had made the relocation to the French countryside permanent – thus removing her from both Voldemort's and Dumbledore's clutches entirely – but he was also of the sort to admit first that life was never fair.

Remus, unsurprisingly, was looking stunned and rather lost – no doubt he was mourning the fact that she was not the little girl he'd carry on his shoulder anymore. Beside him, Estella noted that her father was looking at her oddly, the resigned expression on his face lined with remorse and regret. Remembering how she'd parted from her father earlier in the day and, specifically, what she had said to him, Estella figured that her father was reticent because she was his daughter and it was hard for him to accept that how she'd come to turn out had very little to do with his influence. She knew that all the man had ever wanted was to find a purpose in her life and to be there for her. By being so independent and getting herself in and out of trouble, it made him feel insecure.

Though she would have been rather annoyed had her father not first given his consent to this at the beginning of the meeting, part of her almost wanted him to step up and say no. When she played back his actions in her mind, sometimes she wasn't so sure he realised that he could. 'Who am I to deny that' he had asked. The startling thought that her father had perhaps gone from being dependent on Dumbledore for answers to giving her unequivocal control over her life simply because he still did not trust himself enough to make the right decisions alarmed her. It seemed there would be an awful long list of things she and her father would need to speak about before the train left for Hogwarts in the morning.

Estella had been so lost in her thoughts, that she had been totally unaware of the vote taking place. Surprisingly, very few people objected to either appointment. Whether it was because of the impression they had left, or because many members were reluctant to go against something Dumbledore had so clearly condoned, the teens would probably never know for sure. All that mattered was that they did it, they were in. After signing the charter and taking their vows, Dumbledore stood to officiate their enrolment with a charm that would tie them to the order and inform them of when a meeting was being held.

Summoning Fawkes, Dumbledore explained how each new member was assessed by the Phoenix itself; with only the pure of heart being bestowed with a feather. Now, Fawkes didn't give a feather to every member – only five members had ever passed Fawke's ultimate test; and two of them were now dead and another, as good as. While those without Fawkes' blessing were not degraded in any fashion, those that did have the Seal of the Phoenix were afforded greater confidences than the average member. They were, to use a Death Eater analogy, the basis for Dumbledore's inner-circle.

Flying first to Harry, Fawkes sat on his shoulder whilst everyone waited anxiously. Of anyone deserving of Fawkes' trust and allegiance, surely the Boy-Who-Lived was the most worthy. When the gallant Phoenix failed to procure a feather, however, and instead started singing shrilly, all eyes turned to Dumbledore for answers. While the old man seemed at a loss – something that came as a great surprise to him if his facial expression were anything to go by – Estella felt as though she knew what to do.

"Hold out your wand, Harry," she sidled up to the boy and whispered in his ear. Dumbledore immediately gave her an astonished look before nodding, a new sense of understanding evident in his eyes.

Doing what Estella had suggested, Harry held up his wand. Swooping down, Fawkes perched on the end of the chair in front of Harry and rested his head on the boy's wrist; causing the skin wrapped around the wand to glow. Job apparently over, the majestic bird took to flight again, this time landing on Estella's shoulder. Harry, meanwhile, had transferred his wand to his other hand so as to inspect his palm, on which the fading outline of a feather could be seen. Upon closer inspection, his wand handle now displayed the intricate etchings of a Phoenixes' feather. Again, people looked to Dumbledore for answers.

"Ah, of course," the old man said, his infernal eyes twinkling. "I should have realised it sooner. You already have your feather, Harry."

"Your wand core," said Estella, to which Harry nodded mutely. Those that were more intimately aware of Harry's wand connection to Voldemort's were inwardly curious as to what the great bird would do in the Dark Lord's case. The more imaginative around the table sported satisfied grins at the imagery of Fawkes causing Riddle's wand hand and wand to spontaneously combust.

Fawkes, now on Estella's left shoulder, had started to sing again. Though she could not interpret what the bird was saying, she somehow knew what the bird wanted her to do. Holding out her wand hand in front of the great bird, she watched in fascination as the beautiful creature leant over her hand and shed a single tear on her palm. The salty pearl fell on the crease of her lifeline, causing the fold to glow gold and seemingly expand in length. When the light faded, Estella could faintly make out a slight tear-shaped ridge in the middle of her lifeline that had not been there before. Having read up a little on Phoenixes during her stay at Hogwarts, Estella had a strong feeling that the giving of a tear in such instances meant a bit more than the gift of a feather. By the looks on some of the adult's faces, she would hazard that they had assumed that too.

All of a sudden, Fawkes, who was still perched on Estella's shoulder, burst into flames, the magical fire quickly spreading to enclose Estella. By now, most of the adults had risen from their chairs in a mix of curiosity, awe and outright alarm. At first, Estella had cringed, her mind waiting for the pain that would render her body to ash. When she felt nothing but rejuvenated – a soothing, tingly rush of magic seeping into her every core – she smiled broadly, alleviating the looks of unadulterated terror on her father and godfather's faces.

When it was over, all of Fawkes' ash had somehow ended up in a neat pile in her palm. Frozen to the spot, Estella could only watch in fascination as the ash began to crumble away and move to reveal a baby Fawkes. Before anyone could comment, the baby bird disappeared in a flash – headed, presumably, to his perch in Dumbledore's office in order to grow.

Dumbledore claimed to not know what it all meant – that not enough was known about the great bird to understand all the things it did. Something by the way the man now looked at her, however, told a different story. Estella could not put her finger on it, but it was almost as though Dumbledore now saw her as some sort of kindred. She had a feeling she could probably ask anything of the man now and he would comply. Her smile getting wider and wider, Estella started to feel giddy, realising only when Harry had slapped her on the back in concern that she had been holding her breath for goodness knows how long.

"I think I need to sit down," was all she could say. Several people around the room laughed nervously. After what they had just seen, Estella wasn't the only once in need of a little regrouping.

Before Estella could sit, however, tradition had to follow its course. Though there were several empty chairs around the table, two new chairs were conjured for them. The old chairs, as Dumbledore explained gravely, represented Order members who had died since the last meeting. They were to remain empty as a mark of respect for the duration of the meeting before being transfigured into doves and set free at dawn the following day. It was then that Estella decided that Albus Dumbledore may be a meddling old coot, but he was also a sentimental old coot too.

Touched by the gesture of respect – for the resigning of the chairs was very symbolic in that it implied that no member was replaceable – Estella and Harry stood patiently whilst they were properly introduced to each individual member. Each teenager was then formally invited to take their rightful chair at the table in what was a very ceremonious and embellished recital of etiquette.

The meeting now formally underway, a summary of recent events were relayed to the group, inclusive of suspected Death Eater activity, captures and deaths. Because, as new members, Harry and Estella had no mission to report on, neither teenager had much opportunity to contribute during the meeting; but that is not to say that they did not listen intently. Some of the warier members were a little hesitant to divulge sensitive details of their assignments in the presence of minors. A few times Molly Weasley made strange noises as though to encourage the more graphic reporters to censor the tone of their delivery, but the teens were hopeful that all would get over their respective hang ups.

To prevent other students and staff from becoming suspicious, it was very unlikely for both teens to be present at an Order meeting at the same time during the term. A strategic allocation of detentions and scheduling of either private tutoring or co-curricular activities would account for their respective absences, but it was most advantageous to have the teens attend meetings on a rotational basis so as to ensure that both teenagers were habitually missing at the same time. Whichever child that remained at the school would listen in on the meeting in one of two ways… either with the two-way mirror (Estella) or through a special charm on his wand (Harry).

At the end of the meeting, mission directives were issued. Estella was to familiarise herself with the practicalities of using the knowledge she'd been charged with keeping intact – liaising with Benson Ollerton and working towards designing a fleet of brooms for Order members. Harry's assignment was rather more ambiguous. He was to get close to the newest member of the Hogwarts staff for purposes of extracting a certain piece of information from him. Who the new teacher was, and what exactly Harry had to find out, were matters Dumbledore refused to reveal until after the Opening Feast – he didn't want to spoil the annual surprise, he said.

To Estella's dismay, Remus was being sent deep undercover, commissioned to infiltrate the isolated werewolf colonies to try and dissuade them from joining Voldemort. Such an assignment more than likely meant that he would not be able to write to her during the term and, most importantly, that he would have to go without his Wolfsbane. To express her fears and make a scene, however, Estella knew to be folly if she wanted to play with the big girls and boys. Instead, she found herself filled with a remarkable sense of pride and admiration for her godfather's bravery.

Looking at the man's face, however, Estella was hardened to note that Remus didn't particularly look happy with the mission, and it was then that Estella remembered that most all of the Order members were in some way tied or indebted to Dumbledore. Remus, for example, had been assured an education without prejudice because of the headmaster's 'understanding'. Severus had been exonerated from Azkaban and given a position within the school that had kept both himself and Estella safe. As for the Weasleys, Estella thought of the Twins; and to her father, Dumbledore turned a blind eye to his status as a fugitive, helping to keep Sirius hidden until Pettigrew could be found.

Severus had to discover what it was Voldemort wanted Draco Malfoy to do. Apparently, all Severus had been able to discover was that Lucius had asked Voldemort for some sort of favour and, as a return gesture, implicated Draco in something. Knowing better than to show her uncle up in front of the entire Order, Estella made a mental note to corner her uncle as soon as the meeting were over to tell him what she saw.

In the meantime, Sirius' role was to keep a low profile. Though the general public more or less knew of the Ministerial Pardon – if you could call it that since technically he had been held in Azkaban all those years without trial and ensuring his freedom was simply a matter of dropping the charges against him – the public exposure his escape and emancipation got respectively meant that he couldn't start another job without drawing attention. His mission directives, therefore, were rooted in research retrieval and Muggle relations. Particularly, her father had to scour Muggle communication options to try and devise an effective way for Order members to communicate without possibility of infiltration.

As Dumbledore wanted some sort of way for people in the air to communicate, it was implicit that father and daughter would be working together at some stage. While Estella was grateful for this opportunity, she could not help but feel her father's frustration. As a former Auror and frontline dueller, Sirius just was not suited for 'soft' desk jobs and he took it as a personal affront to his magical prowess to be effectively kept out of the line of fire. Neither Black could understand how the issue of Sirius' notoriety could not be solved with the selective application of charms or potions, but, as Estella had come to realise, there were just some things Order members did not question the headmaster on. His reasons, apparently, always became clear in the end.

"Now, for arising business?" Dumbledore, as the appointed chair for the meeting, moved the last item on the agenda. Several wizards submitted issues that they wanted discussed in more detail at the following meeting, and Estella began to smile. "Estella? You have something you wish to add?"

"Yes," Estella said, sitting up straight in her chair and casting the unflappable old man a smug look. "May I suggest you look into warding the pantry door?"

Sirius, who had a glass raised to his lips, poised to take a long draught, flung the glass down in shock and spluttered. Beside him, Remus' eyes narrowed in suspicion, whilst Severus shared her smug look. Locking eyes with the headmaster once more, Estella saw the man nod slightly.

"Thank you for bringing that security flaw to our attention," he said, his eyes travelling over the table full of grown wizards who were all looking a tad bit sheepish for overlooking such a thing. "If that will be all, I will officially declare the meeting adjourned."

Even though the meeting ended in plenty of time for Molly to get the evening's meal underway on the stove, Estella felt emotionally and physically exhausted by the end of it. With her father and godfather swept up in the chaos of departing witches and wizards, Estella was able to follow her uncle into the small potions lab off the kitchen. Closing the door softly behind them, she turned and placed her hand on the wood. Shutting her eyes in concentration, she willed the wards to prohibit anyone from entering the room or listening in before turning to face her uncle who was looking at her with bemusement.

Entering the room fully and keeping herself busy by distractedly assisting her uncle as he packed up his materials – for it was apparent that he would no longer be called upon to brew potions in headquarters during the term – Estella took her time to gather her words together.

"So, do you have any idea on what Draco is being asked to do?" she asked casually, holding up a vial of potion up to the light in order to identify it.

"Are you aware that it is not common practice for Order members to discuss their prerogatives with others?" Severus countered.

"No idea, huh?" smirked Estella, pulling herself up onto the countertop directly next to her uncle so that she could sit and face him, their eyes level for a change. She cast him a coy look. "Quid pro quo, Uncle Sev."

"I do not have time for games, Estella," said Severus tiredly. "I must get these trunks back to Hogwarts tonight."

"Translation: you don't still want to be here when Molly rings the dinner bell," said Estella, smiling victoriously. "Come on, Uncle Sev, it'll be fun. You tell me something, I'll tell you something…"

"Very well," said Severus, inwardly curious as to why the child would seek him out directly after the meeting and not gravitate towards her father and the infernal Potter boy. Perhaps he had not lost her entirely, yet. "What possessed you to join the Order?"

"What possessed you to join the Death Eaters?" Estella bit back as though to say 'next question'.

"Why did you come down here to talk about Draco Malfoy?" asked Severus.

"What 'favour' did Tom grant Lucy?" threw back Estella. As was often the case with these games with her uncle, neither player were willing to divulge information first in the fear that once the opponent had heard what they wanted to hear, they would no longer reciprocate.

"Damn it, Estella," in a rare loss of control, Severus dropped a vial and swore. "What is this? Quid pro quo, or Questions?"

"What do you want it to be?" Estella fought to keep a straight face. Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she sighed. "Seriously, Uncle Sev… I know you know more about this favour of Voldemort's. I can tell when you're holding out on something."

"And I know when you're bluffing," said Severus coolly.

"Fine," said Estella. Such was the game with her uncle: no lies, but no straight answers either. Whether or not Severus did know something about the deal Lucius had struck with Voldemort, Estella wasn't sure. All she knew was that if she was about to give the man anything on Draco, she wanted to know what he did know of the situation. "Did I tell you I had a rather interesting encounter in Diagon Alley today? Those Malfoy men don't seem to like shopping with their women. You know they couldn't seem to get away from Narcissa fast enough? If I didn't know any better I'd suspect they were up to something behind her back…"

"What did you see?" asked Severus.

"Oh no, Uncle Sev," Estella wagged her finger at the man. "I told you something, now it's your turn. Quid pro quo, remember?"

"Very well," said Severus, his face stony. "Lucius Malfoy asked that your life be spared."

"What?" Estella fell off the counter in shock, falling forward and stumbling on her feet before being steadied by her uncle. "Why on earth would he want to do that?"

"Quid pro quo, Estella," Severus looked smug.

"Fine. I followed Lucius and Draco into Knockturn Alley," said Estella.

"What?" Severus rounded on her faster than Estella thought were humanly possible. "Where were your father and that werewolf of yours?"

"Don't you start," Estella glared at him. "I've already gone through this with Dad and Remus. Besides, if not for what I did, I wouldn't know what I know now, would I? Your turn, Uncle Sev."

Severus scowled, pausing to find his words. "Lucius is under the grand impression that the Black line still owes him a blood debt."

"Tell me something I don't know already," Estella shook her head. It was a little known fact amongst the two families that Lucius Malfoy felt cheated by his marriage to Narcissa. The long-standing arrangement between the two families had promised the son of a Malfoy to the daughter of a Black. After Andromeda – who was too old for Lucius by any stretch – had disgraced herself by marrying a Muggle, and after Bellatrix had eloped with Lestrange, only Narcissa was left. That Narcissa was not even a Black in blood, but rather had been adopted by her stepfather to legitimise the terms of the family's contract with the Malfoys was something Lucius did not discover until it were too late. With Narcissa being a 'Black daughter' on paper – complete with a sizeable dowry – the Blacks were technically honouring their contract and to decline, would disgrace the Malfoy name. Ever since Draco and Estella's births, it took no stretch of imagination to realise that Lucius Malfoy was keen to see the two families joined in more than just name. If he had to kill whomever got in his way and keep Estella dosed on debilitating potions or beaten into submission with the Imperius, Lucius had no limits.

"All right," Severus took a deep breath and, turning to lean against the counter; he crossed his arms across his chest and looked upon his niece. "Your father is being grounded for his protection. Malfoy has issued a contract on his life."

"He wants my father dead so that you would become my guardian again," Estella blanched. "And you can't exactly tell Malfoy where to stick his plans for his bloodlines, right?"

Severus shook his head slightly. "Your father remains unaware of these details, Estella. Unless you want your father going after Malfoy and getting himself killed in the process, I suggest you be selective in what you communicate to him."

"If I cooperate, would the contract be lifted?" asked Estella quietly, leaning heavily against a counter on the wall opposite her uncle and hugging herself slightly. Given the galley-style nature of the room, they were standing nearly toe to toe. Her uncle was right in that if her father knew his life was in danger, he'd want to eliminate the threat before it could neutralise him. It would be just like the night he'd gone after Peter to avenge James and Lily. Therefore, as much as she despised lying, in an instance of life or death, she was willing to make a exception. Continuing, her shoulders began to slump as though burdened with a heavy weight. "If I were to appear to be interested… I could consent to my own betrothal when I am of age, and it would buy us some time, right?"

"Possibly," said Severus in a reluctant tone. Had Sirius never gotten out of Azkaban, it had been his plan to assure Lucius enough to permit Estella to make her own decision when she was of age. His sister, Estella's mother, had been promised to another by their parents; and everyone knew how that had turned sour. Severus had Lucius all but convinced that history would repeat itself if they didn't tread carefully; but ever since Black was cleared, the man had become increasingly erratic and irrational. He sighed. "I highly suspect Lucius will want more assurances than that now. He already feels as though he's been swindled and burned once by your family."

"What can I do, then?" asked Estella, her voice beginning to waver.

Both without an answer for his niece and fuelled by a desire to change the direction of the conversation, Severus shook his head.

"Your turn, Estella," he said quietly.

Taking a deep breath, Estella tried to clear the recent revelations out of her mind so that she could refocus. Without leaving anything else out, Estella told her uncle all about the Cabinet in Borgin and Burke's and how she suspected Draco was going to try and reactivate the matching one in Hogwarts. For good measure, she also told him about the necklace Draco had mentioned in passing and confided in him her hopes that Draco might one day be able to think for himself and make a better choice.

"That boy cannot be redeemed," said Severus softly.

"I know," said Estella. "But if he could at least think for himself and not simply do everything because his father told him to, then at least he would be the only one at fault."

"Whether Draco makes his own decisions or if Lucius makes them for him is of little consequence," said Severus. "You need to accept that not every teenager is as independent and resilient as you. Only Draco can be held accountable for his actions."

"Why, Uncle Sev," said Estella. "Was that a compliment?"

Severus merely huffed slightly and pushed off from the counter he was leaning against to finish packing his supplies. Turning his back to her, it took all of Estella's hearing to catch what he said next.

"Thank you for exercising your discretion, Estella," he said; the understanding that Estella would not tell anyone that the information had come from her remaining unspoken between them. The pragmatic Potions Master was very grateful for the child's unwitting assistance in helping him save face; which is perhaps why he was so up front with her in regards to what he knew about Lucius' plans for her. Just when Estella thought he'd finished speaking, he added softly. "You would have made your mother very proud today." He turned around and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't let anyone take that away from you."

Reaching up to squeeze her uncle's forearm as he squeezed her shoulder gently, Estella smiled. She knew from her uncle's veiled statement that he was also proud of her and that she shouldn't let anyone else's thoughts on the subject make her doubt her faith in herself. Realising that her hand was wrapped around his Dark Mark, Estella looked up at her uncle.

"Be careful out there, will you?" she said quietly. "Unless I want to turn into a completely reckless bonehead Gryffindork, I'm gonna need you to keep me in line."

Smirking appreciatively at his niece's candour, Severus nodded. Bracing her other shoulder with his other hand, Severus leaned in and kissed her head.

"Remember what I said before, Estella," he said. "No heroics."

"You know I can't promise that," Estella pointed out almost regretfully, her mind wondering what her uncle would have thought of her behaviour during the full moon. "But I will use my best judgement, and that has to count for something, right?"

"It hasn't gotten you killed, yet," Severus acknowledged, pushing her away gently. "Now off with you, before your father sends a search party."

Estella found her father and the others upstairs. The official story for Estella and Harry's presence downstairs while a meeting was taking place was to receive a very stern lecture on the perils of holidaying in an uncanvassed location. Harry and Sirius were now making a good job of looking remorseful as the other teenagers celebrated the occasion of the Prefect selection. Apparently, both Hermione and Ron had been named as Prefects and they had put off their celebrations until Harry could be there to share it with them. Looking across at the bespectacled boy, Estella suspected that had it not been for his clandestine ordination into the Order, Harry would probably have been feeling a little put out at the decision not to make him a Prefect. It wasn't that Harry took much stock in his fame, but you could hardly blame him for feeling a little jilted by the snub when he had more than proven himself worthy of the position, what, with saving the school from the likes of Trolls, Basilisks and Dementors, as well as, winning the Tri-Wizard Cup for the school.

After politely making the rounds and passing on her congratulations to the bewildered Ron and ecstatic Hermione, Estella quietly excused herself. Announcing to all that who'd listen that she'd had a tiring day and was packing herself off to bed. 'Yes, Ron' she thought at the redhead's astounded look, 'without my dinner!'

Knowing that her father would likely follow her up, she didn't think anything of his reluctance to approach her whilst in a roomful of teenagers. Then, after brushing the twins aside in the hallway – they had wanted to privately express their dismay about not being able to order Kreacher to plant their extendable ears for the meetings without her consent and were sympathetic to the ear bashing she'd must have gotten – she made her way up to her room wearily. Shrugging off her outer robe and kicking off her shoes, Estella padded over to her trunk – of which someone had evidently taken the liberty of enlarging for her – and pulled out her walkman. Plugging in her headphones and curling up on her bed to listen, Estella was drifting off to sleep before she was even aware of it.

Finding his daughter asleep with music softy blaring from her ears, Sirius sighed and made his way over to her bed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to his unresponsive daughter, he ran a hand over his face wearily before banishing the walkman back to her trunk and placing a hand on her shoulder to wake her. He'd barely finished saying the spell that removed the headphones from her ears before Estella was awake and alert, her wand appearing from under her pillow and flying up to poke at him in alarm.

"Whoa, easy there kiddo!" Sirius dropped his wand as a peace offering and slowly nudged his daughter's wand away from his chest. Her wand sufficiently lowered, he used that same hand to reach out and brush the hair out of his daughter's face whilst his other leant over her torso and bore his weight on the mattress. "Do you want any dinner? I saved you some."

Estella shrugged. "I'm just so tired," she yawned for emphasis. "Tomorrow's a big day, so if it's all the same to you I'd rather just sleep."

"Do you think you can wake up a bit and spare a few moments for your stupid old man?" asked Sirius. "In the very least I am sure Skunk here is a bit hungry."

"What's there to sort out?" Estella frowned, looking down at the warm-blooded Kneazle who had apparently taken the place of her favoured stuff-toy in bed as it curled up against her arm. It wasn't that they didn't have things to discuss, she was just too tired and muddled by all the information she'd taken in that day to know where to begin. Knowing that her father wasn't about to let it drop though, and knowing that she would not have a very happy Kneazle on her hands if she didn't feed it, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and made herself comfortable. In the process of sliding up from where she had been curled up in a ball, the sleeve of her loose-fitting T-shirt had ridden up to expose the beginnings of bruises on her arms.

"What happened to you?" asked Sirius dumbly, gently helping her up to inspect her arms. "Who did this? Was it Malfoy?"

"I find myself wishing it was," said Estella sadly, the look in her eyes telling Sirius everything he needed to know; causing him to reel back in shock.

Clasping a hand over his mouth in shock, Sirius slid off the edge of the bed and crumbled to the floor, his eyes wide. Pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands, he couldn't look his daughter in the eye. When Estella noticed his shoulders shaking, she climbed out of bed and sat next to her father silently. When he wouldn't respond to her calls or otherwise move from his position, she began to worry. The man was so distraught that he didn't even realise when Estella had left Skunk with him and vacated the room in search of her godfather.

"Sirius?" Remus had come as soon as Estella had called, and was now kneeling in front of his catatonic friend, gently shaking his shoulders. "C'mon buddy, you're scaring Estella."

"Estella?" said Sirius incoherently, raising his head slightly to reveal unfocused eyes. "I hurt her, Moony! I didn't mean to, I swear…"

"Remus, what's wrong with him?" asked Estella frantically.

"He's zoning out like he did last summer," said Remus quietly. He'd been so certain that Sirius had been well on his way to putting the demons of Azkaban behind him. "Remember when Kreacher tried to re-age you and Sirius lost the plot and almost killed him?"

"That actually happened?" Estella's eyes flew open. A lot of her memories whilst in her de-aged state presented themselves as dreamlike and surreal due to the rapid regrowth of her brain back into its pre-existing state. As such, she had a hard time discerning between the facts. "What do we do?"

"Try and talk him around, I guess," said Remus lightly, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that if anyone else caught wind of Sirius' susceptibility to withdraw into himself so completely, he'd be at very real risk of losing custody of both Harry and Estella.

Unfortunately for Estella, the childlike inhibitions and innocence her younger-self had possessed when previously faced with this problem were now overrun with irrational hormone-driven feelings of indignation and anger.

"I don't believe this," she furrowed her brow. Though the rational side of her knew that her father was extremely lucky to come out of Azkaban with very minimal behavioural problems, the fact that no 13-year-old girl wanted to admit her father was a mere mortal filled her with a sense of betrayal, and she masked her feelings of concern and fear with her anger. "What's he carrying on about? You didn't see me vegetate after having a one-on-one tutorial with Voldemort about the Unforgivable Curses, and I'm just a kid!"

"Estella," said Remus warningly. "Your father has experienced unspeakable horrors. Today probably didn't mean much to you, but it obviously triggered something in him."

What Estella didn't know at that moment was that Sirius' one fear – his Boggart, if you will – was losing his daughter. Azkaban had done a job of taking his happy memories and convincing him that he had lost her, and since coming out, it was often a struggle to keep a balanced perspective. Twelve years in Azkaban, and he was of the irrevocable mind that such good things just weren't supposed to happen to him. Sure, his daughter accepted him into her life and they just had a unforgettable holiday together, but no matter how good things were right in front of him, the man secretly lay awake every night just waiting for the moment when his daughter would reject him. Seeing those bruises on her arm – knowing he had put them there – had him convinced that he'd just signed away his right to be a father. Rather than hear the words come from his daughter's mouth – rather than witness his worst fears become a reality – Sirius shut everything out.

"I can't…" mumbled Sirius. "I can't…"

"Can't what, Padfoot?" said Remus, maintaining a firm, unyielding grip on the broken man's shoulders.

"I can't lose her, Moony!" Sirius choked out.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" said Estella exasperatedly, quickly losing patience of her father's self-doubts and theatrics. Before she could say anything further, the door knob began to turn. It was Harry. Without even giving much thought to what she was doing, Estella stood abruptly and spun around, outstretching her arms with palms facing the door in a 'stop' motion. For the first time, Estella felt completely in tune with the wards, and she could feel the magic ripple through her as she sent it out towards the opening door, slamming it shut in Harry's face and locking it.

Paling, Estella looked to her godfather – who had also stood – in shock. "What does this mean?" she said, becoming more and more hysterical. "I've never been able to get the wards to do anything remotely like that! I've always had to be touching the door when I want it to do something! What does this mean?"

"It means your father is not aware enough of his surroundings to perform his duties as master of the household," said Remus quietly. "The wards have granted you power in his stead."

"Well that's just great," Estella drawled sarcastically, her eyes blazing in anger. How dare her father put her through this? How dare he be so weak? Jerking her head towards the door, Estella dismissed her godfather. "You'd better go put a halt on Harry. He's probably flipping out and the last thing we need is Molly Weasley nosing around."

"Try not to say anything that will pull him in deeper," said Remus. "I know you feel like he's let you down right now, but he needs assurance."

"That's to put it mildly," scoffed Estella.

Moving to stand in front of his goddaughter, Remus' face began to show the lines of age. "He is not like this by choice, cub," he said sadly, not just referring to this instance, but every occasion where he'd questioned his ability as a parent or worried about competing for her affections. "How I wish you'd met him before…"

"Okay, Moony, I get it," sighed Estella. Azkaban had screwed with her father's head – now there was a mood killer. Suddenly, Estella felt even more tired than she had before. "Go see to Harry. I'll try and fiddle with the wards so that the door will let only you back in or something."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," said Remus comfortingly, giving her a quick hug before leaving them alone in the room once more.

"Right," said Estella once her godfather had closed the door behind him. Moving to kneel in front of her father, she crossed her arms across her chest. "Dad? Dad, can you hear me?"

Sirius looked up and squinted at her.

"Selina? Where have you been?" he asked in a far away tone. "Where's our baby?"

Estella swore colourfully and sighed. Having no idea on what to do, she crossed her fingers, took a deep breath, and hoped to Merlin that what she did next would come close to being right.

"Sirius Black, what have you done to yourself?" she snapped at him as she could only imagine her mother doing in her place.

"I hurt her," sobbed Sirius. "I hurt our daughter. I hurt Estella."

"No you didn't, she's fine," said Estella firmly.

"Did she tell you that? She's lying!" said Sirius forlornly. "Didn't you see her arms?"

"Estella doesn't lie. She's fine," said Estella, feeling as though she had entered the twilight zone on account of referring to herself in third person and imitating her dead mother.

"Snivellus must have given her a salve for the bruises," said Sirius. "If you saw what I did to her, you wouldn't be so-"

"I saw full well what you did, Sirius Black," said Estella, inhaling sharply when she saw her father recoil and begin to curl up even tighter. "I also saw what she did to bring it on herself."

"There's no excuse!" said Sirius. "Nothing a child does gives a parent the right to harm them!"

"Then why did you?" said Estella, scrambling for a way out of this cycle. Her father was intent on beating himself up.

"I didn't mean to," said Sirius quickly. "I was so scared… so scared… I turned around, she wasn't there! She wasn't there! I thought I'd lost her forever; but there she was, fine as the day she was born, and she had gone off deliberately! I didn't mean to grab her so hard. I didn't mean to yell. I was just so angry… how could she not know…"

"Not know what?" said Estella, her eyes burning with guilty tears. Whilst she had been off sight seeing in Knockturn Alley, she had put her father through hell.

"I can't…" said Sirius brokenly. "I can't live without her too." He looked up again and smiled slightly. "Where have you been all this time? How am I supposed to know what I'm doing without you here? I miss you so much, Selina…"

Estella sighed and moved away slightly. Her father was clearly so deluded that it just would not do if her were to try and do something husbandly like kiss her. Fighting the look of disdain on her face, she tried to remain in character. Reaching out to lay a hand on the back of his head as he leant forward and rested his forehead on his knees, Estella cleared her mind and pulled her next words from deep within her soul. If a Muggle were to happen across the pair, they'd likely suspect the girl of actually channelling the spirit of her late mother, much like Whoopi Goldberg had been possessed by Patrick Swayze in the epic love story, Ghost.

"I've been watching over our baby," she said in a faraway tone. If she were to look in a mirror at that moment, she'd have been alarmed to note that her eyes were almost black. "Don't worry so much, you're doing more than fine."

"But I-" Sirius looked up to stare at the figure before him with an altogether much more lucid look in his eye.

"No," Estella cut him off with a hand to his mouth. "Stop this, stop this now! You were only doing what any normal, panicked parent would do."

"No," Sirius shook his head stubbornly. "You wouldn't have lost it like that! You would have known what to do better!"

"No I wouldn't have," she replied. "I would have hexed her legs off, withdrawn her from school and chained her to the piano and forced her to learn the Muggle way… and then when I'd calmed down I'd go nuts looking for the counter spells."

This, though Estella had no idea where that had come from, seemed to get through to Sirius for his body began to unclench itself and visibly relax. She was even sure she'd heard him snort in agreement, though it was very faint and she couldn't be sure. Shaking the fog out of her own head, Estella too took the opportunity to relax a little and she watched curiously as her father's breathing returned to normal.

Unfurling her legs out from under her, Estella rose slightly and stretched to get the circulation pumping back into her limbs. Then, embodied by a recurrent inspiration, Estella crawled over to her trunk and began to rifle through it in search of her stuffed dog. Finding it and smirking at the foolish sentimentality of what she was about to do, she turned around to approach her father with it. When she saw her father sitting against her bed, cross legged and looking at her quite coherently whilst a certain dark, warm-blooded magical creature worked its charms as it nestled in the crook of an arm, Estella dropped her inanimate stuffed toy in shock.

"Oh, so you're back now?" she said, throwing her stuffed dog back into her trunk and moving back towards her father to sit next to him on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Sirius leaned back slightly so he could look at her whole face as she sat next to him. "What's up with your eyes? Has Tonks been trying to teach you how to become a Metamorphagus?"

"Huh?" Estella rubbed her eyes blearily and frowned in confusion. How could her father be so, so, normal after that complete breakdown? "You don't remember what just happened?"

"Uh, I came in, woke you up, chewed your ear off about wandering off by yourself, you reminded me of how me and James'd snuck off to Hogsmeade when the wizarding world was just as much at war, and I decided to let you off with a warning," said Sirius slowly, not quite sure why his daughter looked as though she were hearing this for the first time. "It was really strange though because I could almost swear I had your mother's voice in my head telling me how much of a drama queen I was earlier… you know you really look like her when you make your eyes go like that. Don't suppose you can do it again?"

"Uh, no," Estella was becoming more and more confused, though something in the very back of her mind was telling her to relax and roll with it. "I don't think my eyes did anything… must've just been the lights, y'know."

"Oh," said Sirius, deflated. "So Tonks hasn't been trying to teach you any of her tricks?"

"I couldn't master them even if I tried," Estella shook her head. Transfiguration was not exactly her forte, even after all the additional help her father had been able to give her over the past year. Her stomach starting to grumble slightly, she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of her bed. "Anyway, didn't you say you saved me some dinner?"

Sirius nodded distractedly and with a snap of his fingers, summoned Kreacher, who was carrying a tray. Sitting up against the bed head, Estella balanced the tray on her knees and was careful not to get any crumbs in her sheets as she made short work of some of Molly's finest.

"You know," she said with her mouthful as she swatted her father's fingers away from her Yorkshire pudding. "It surprises me how you and Mrs Weasley are always are at such loggerheads all the time. I'm sure if you sat down and thought things through, you'd find that you actually have a lot in common."

Her father shot her an indignant look and scowled.

"No, really," Estella said earnestly, though her affirmation did little to alleviate the look of incredulity on her offended father's features. "You both love cooking, okay so Molly does things the magical way, but you're both good at that-" Sirius smiled slightly at the implied compliment and she went on "-and despite your differences, the fact remains that you're both horribly protective of your kids."

"Ah, but the difference there is that I don't go around telling her how to raise her brood," Sirius pointed out banally. Gesturing for her to use her fork as she went to pick up a cooked baby carrot with her fingers, he changed the subject. "That was a pretty spectacular show you put on today with Fawkes."

"Not my doing," Estella held her hands up in defence. "It was all Fawke's idea."

"Any idea what it meant?" said Sirius.

"How would I know if Dumbledore said he didn't?" shrugged Estella, inwardly marking it down as a mystery to get to the bottom of as soon as possible.

"You think Dumbledore knows something but wouldn't say?" asked Sirius, brows raised.

"I think maybe he'll want to try and suss a few things out from me before letting his position be known," said Estella, smirking slightly. "His surprise was genuine though."

"Speaking of surprises," said Sirius levelly. "Remind me not to leave you alone in a house with Dumbledore again, will you? I don't know what I think about coming home to find both you and Harry downstairs applying to the Order for membership. You put me on the spot today, kiddo."

Estella cast her eyes downward and sighed. "Dumbledore started it," she said, though it offered little excuse. Lifting her gaze, she set her face in a determined line. "If you don't want me to-"

Sirius held up his hand to silence her. "Though I would have liked to have had some warning first, I understand it was a spur of the moment thing, right?" Estella nodded in confirmation. "Very well, then. I can't knock you for acting on your instincts – some of the best decisions are made on the fly, you know, when you don't give yourself time to mull over them. Don't let that uncle of yours fill your head with rot about rashness being foolish. It isn't always the case."

"Well so long as you aren't agreeing to this because you don't trust yourself to make an independent decision,"--there, she'd said it.

"Estella, it isn't so much about me not trusting myself," said Sirius awkwardly, his hand running over the nape of his neck. "Than it's about trusting you to make the right choices for yourself. It's all part of growing up, you know."

"I thought you didn't want me to grow up?"

"That's not the point," said Sirius, smiling sadly as he reached over and patted her arm. "Trying to deny what's right in front of me and hold you back won't help either of us."

"Well, you know I am still only 13," said Estella in a small voice. "I don't want to make all the decisions myself, just yet. You can still boss me around…"

"What, and deal with that temper of yours?" said Sirius, smiling wanly. "I'd rather spend what little time we get together harmoniously, thank you very much."

Looking at her Dad with a newfound sense of understanding, Estella nodded and returned to her pudding. Seeing the hungry look in his eyes, she halted her spoon in mid air.

"You want some?" she asked finally, holding the spoon out to him.

Grinning innocently, Sirius leant forward and accepted the spoon directly into his mouth. Making an over-dramatised sound of appreciation as the rich, creamery butterscotch melted in his mouth, he delighted in his daughter's contentedness. Given how distraught she had been about returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas break, it was a relief to see her so at ease about their pending separation – though, if he were truly honest with himself, part of him missed being able to see just how much his child didn't want to leave him.

"You scared me today, kiddo," said Sirius out of the blue as Estella finished off her dinner and had him banish her plates away. Sighing dejectedly, his daughter slumped and nodded her head shamefully. Leaning forward and tilting her head up with his hand, he looked her directly in the eyes. "I don't say that to make you feel bad, Estella," he continued, "I want you to be fully aware of what your actions do to others next time, that's all."

"There won't be a next time," said Estella shaking her head.

Chuckling mirthlessly, Sirius leant back so his daughter could settle down in her blankets. Leaning down to kiss her forehead and brush the hair out of her face, he whispered into her hair. "There's always a next time. You wouldn't be my daughter if there wasn't. Just be careful."

Estella shifted slightly to look her father in the eye, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Always."

END CHAPTER: UNUSUAL REQUESTS

NEXT CHAPTER: TRAIN RIDES

DUE: either late on the 23rd or sometime on the 24th.

A/N: Apologies for this chapter being late, there's been all manner of problems this end. I won't bore you with the details except to say that the delay has most certainly not been by choice! As a general rule, updates will be predominantly on weekends now.