At least an hour passed on the rickety boat before a sharp nudge from Remus woke Sirius up. Starting awake, he shot a look at his companion to see what had altered him.
Remus gestured wordlessly in front of them, at the choppy waters their vessel was sitting on. There was still no sign of an exit, or any light besides those attached to the front of the boat, but that wasn't what had caught Remus' attention. Gradually, and almost imperceptibly, the river was beginning to slope upwards.
The flow of water remained unchanged as it began inclining steeper and steeper, some unseen magic allowing it to keep its speed. Soon the two passenger were scrambling to collect their meager belongings to avoid them tumbling off the back of the boat as the river began curving up faster.
Higher it crept, until the boat was nearly completely vertical, and Sirius had to stand awkwardly on its back rim, gripping the sides to stop himself falling back. Beside him Remus cast a sticking charm on his own robes before flinging one at Sirius, freeing up his arms. It was a short relief as the rush of water was now splashing over the top of the boat, drenching the companions before either had the chance to shield themselves.
"Did the book say anything about this?" Sirius yelled over the roar of the river.
Remus nodded, "It mentioned an incline, but I didn't think it would be so bloody-"
His sentence was cut off as the boat sharply fell back to it's proper orientation, slamming Sirius' head into the deck with a painful bang. As fast as it had taken off, the vessel stopped to a complete halt, the sticking charm Remus had applied being the only thing stopping him from sliding to the front of the boat and causing yet another injury.
Groaning and undoing the charms, the two got up and peered around at their new setting. It was another cavern, barely illuminated but far smaller than the cave at the other end of the river and- thankfully- devoid of goblins. A short pathway led from the shoreline to a massive black door set deep into the stone wall.
Gingerly, Sirius climbed out of the boat, setting down on solid ground for the first time in several hours.
"I guess this is it," He murmured, voice seemingly swallowed by the darkness. "You said the book didn't say where in Dublin it comes out?"
Remus shook his head. "As far as I can tell it changes every few weeks to avoid tracing."
Sirius stretched, wincing at the sharp stab of pain that spiked through his shoulder. The wound was still throbbing, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind- there was more pressing things to worry about than his own fragile mortality. They were in Ireland for a reason.
With a grunt Sirius pushed the door,- there was no handle to try and pull it- but it didn't budge. Moments later Remus joined him, pulling out a piece of paper and scanning it.
"Equity and fingernails," Remus said, waving his wand in a complicated pattern over the door.
Moments later the door swung open with a screech, revealing yet another inky void, Sirius unable to make out anything in the darkness.
"You'd think they could invest in some proper lighting," he murmured. "I got the point in the first tunnel."
Remus completely ignored him, instead retrieving a small box from a pocket and enlarging it. It contained what few disguise supplies that the two had been wearing when his apartment had been raided, and they had been using whenever they had to leave Sirius' safe-house in the last few weeks.
"No idea if that door leads to a muggle or wizard area," Remus said. "And your animagus form could be compromised. Can't be too careful."
Sirius groaned and began the familiar motions of applying makeup, attaching freckles and adjusting the wig in the waters reflection until it looked natural. Beside him Remus did the same.
Magical methods of disguising oneself- apart from more difficult methods like polyjuice potion- tended to be easily removed by wizards, particularly since most magical locations had detection charms built into the foundations. After all, why else would you be wearing a disguise if you weren't up to no good?
The two finished their concealment with disillusionment and notice-me-not charms, in the likely event they emerged into a muggle area, and stood opposite the doorway, now fully un-identifiable.
"Ready?" Remus said as the two peered into the darkness.
Sirius just nodded, adjusted his wig one more time, and stepped resolutely through the doorway. To his surprise, however, it wasn't more darkness that awaited him, but sharp white light. He hadn't been looking at what was on the other side of the door at all, but some sort of vision-blocking magic, and his blood began to run cold as he realized exactly where they'd just unthinkingly blundered into.
A wide hall, leading to a pristine marble foyer. Wide columns- one of which Sirius and Remus had emerged, and which they were still hiding behind- supported an ornate, soaring roof covered in beautifully painted figures of Irish legend, heroes slaying monsters and maidens singing to enraptured crowds. In the center was a wide fountain, water splashing over figures that seemed impossible detailed.
It was nearly empty, save for a figure in a cloak scanning a set of books on a pedestal- some sort of directory- an attendant standing beside a set of brass elevators at the other end of the foyer, and another at a set of Floo's.
They had walked right into the Irish Ministry of Magic.
Shit.
Remus breathed in deep, no doubt thinking about exactly what the Irish would do to a werewolf found literally walking through their largest government building. Sirius had heard enough stories about the Hunters famous zealotry when it came to Lycanthropes, and both men were well aware of the fact that every second they spent in here it became more and more likely that they would be detected.
"The exit is right over there," Sirius murmured, pointing to a wide set of double-doors at the far end of the foyer. "Let's get the hell out of here."
The two set off, trying not to look too suspicious or walk too fast across the pristine tiles of the hall. The fifty-or-so feet to the doors felt like they took several hours to reach, Sirius expecting a shout of alarm to stop them with each step. Every fiber of his body was telling him to transform and start sprinting, but he fiercely quashed that instinct and kept up a brisk walk.
They finally made it to the doors with no sign of detection, and Sirius swallowed back a sigh of relief. Perhaps they were actually going to make it out without incident- after all, wasn't he entitled to some good luck by now?
Unlike the British Ministry, the Irish made no attempt to keep their building hidden underground- rather, it seemed to be disguised as a derelict, abandoned hospital in a quiet part of the city. A wide, and completely empty, car-park separated it from the street, along with an overgrown hedge and a rusted fence- no doubt both enchanted with a web of muggle-deterring charms and subtle defenses. The only gate out of the carpark was seemingly wide open, though Sirius had no doubt that it wasn't nearly as simple as just walking through it.
Well aware that they weren't in the clear yet, Remus hurried down concrete stairs, almost breaking into a jog as he reached the bottom. Sirius followed, throwing a look behind him to make sure no-one had followed.
Even as they approached the gate, however, another figure strode through in the other direction. A man, dressed in a mottled-green cloak, with a tall pointed metal hat and black leather gloves. A long, curved dagger sat sheathed at his waist.
Hunter.
Remus slowed his pace a fraction as the man turned into the carpark, unable to resist the urge to cast his eyes down at the ground, even knowing it only made him more suspicious. Sirius knew the Hunters were trained specially to track and identify werewolves- but surely they wouldn't be able to detect Remus' condition just by walking past him?
The man nodded, seemingly friendly, at the two of them and Sirius managed a smile and nod back, not trusting himself to verbally greet the man and refrain from throwing up. Wordlessly they passed each other, the Hunter smoothly moving out of their path even as they did the same, leaving a wide berth between them. Barely trusting himself to breathe, Sirius walked past the man, Remus still resolutely staring at the ground.
After a breathless moment, Sirius sure he was about to have to get into a duel right there outside the ministry, but their luck held. They walked through the gate, and seconds later Remus grabbed onto Sirius' shoulder and apparated, completely ignoring the several Muggles on the street.
They arrived with a lurch, Sirius nearly collapsing from a mixture of relief and disorientation.
"That," Sirius said breathlessly, "Was too bloody close."
They had arrived in a small, concrete room, bare except for some pipes on the walls and a small wooden door. One of the pipes was leaking onto the floor with a steady drip, drip, drip, causing a small puddle.
An apparating point. They were common in parts of the magical world- set places for wizards and witches to apparate too to avoid stray muggles from seeing them. Since some cities had a much larger population of wizards than others, it was useful to have safe points for frequent travelers where there weren't any spacious magical areas.
"We still in Dublin?" He replied.
Remus nodded. "Technically, we're right on the outskirts. We should only be a few hours walk away from my benefactor's residence, if I remember right."
They had discussed at length exactly where they were meant to be going, but in truth Remus was operating off as much guesswork as memory. He had never actually met the benefactor, after all, or been to his residence. They were relying on things Dumbledore had said during the war, and Remus remembering them correctly. All in all not particularly reliable information, and they were more than a bit going off conjecture and guesswork. Better than nothing, they had supposed back in Britain.
As he quickly found out, 'better than nothing' was about the extent of it. Heading south out of Dublin, they weren't particularly worried about being spotted- it was unlikely any Hunters would be wondering around the muggle world- but there was hardly time to admire the scenery. Before long they were out of the city and heading through the Irish countryside, first into a series of farms, then dense woodland.
Apparently they were headed to a forest- Sirius couldn't begin to pronounce the untamed mass of vowels that made up the names of most places in Ireland- that was almost entirely off-limits to muggles. In theory, the place would show up shortly after entering the woods.
As it turned out, theory must not have counted for much with the Gilded King, because they ended up spending most of the rest of the day wandering around the forest, trying every detection spell they knew on the surrounding undergrowth.
Sirius was on the verge of giving up and returning to civilization when something finally appeared.
As he was just about to suggest booking a muggle hotel, the scenery where they had been searching began to change. All at once, the hillside in front of them seemed to shimmer, warping and curving in on itself with a strange, sucking noise. A vicious crack, not unlike the sound of apparition finished the transformation, and where there had just before been swathes of trees on a hill, now stood the house of the Gilded King.
'House' seemed like too modest a word. 'Castle' was more appropriate, or perhaps 'cathedral'. The building that greeted them was vast, naturally looming over everything like a mountain, constructed from craggy grey stone, and massive, seemingly opaque windows. It reminded Sirius of Hogwarts, but where the old school's beauty was enchanting and inviting, this place seemed to threaten the viewer just by its existence. It reeked of arrogance and contempt, a symbol of power hidden away among the trees of Ireland.
Two massive gargoyles stretches over the entrance, an enormous set of oak doors set deeply into the stone wall, peering down at the intruders- Sirius watched them warily, well aware of the wizarding communities propensity for living statues.
As they approached however, the gargoyles didn't move, seemingly inert- in fact, the doors themselves were the first things to move. As Remus hesitantly went to knock on the massive structure, the doors swung open of their own accord, silently moving inward in a smooth motion.
The passageway lead directly into a vast parlor. If the outside of the cathedral had been excessive, the inside was positively gaudy. It seemed the Gilded King's name was no misnomer- every available service was covered in a gold sheen, or with shimmering gemstones and stained glass. The carpet beneath Sirius feet felt almost impossibly soft, like Acromantula silk- although he'd never seen anything bigger than a scarf made out of the famously-difficult material. If the very concept of wealth could be boiled down into a single image, it would be an image of this hall, Sirius thought to himself as he gazed at it.
Two staircases wound up from the sides of the room, meeting at a platform high above and in front of them, the stair elegantly rising up in a spiral, handrails made of some kind of frosted glass.
The opulence of the parlor wasn't all that took Sirius' attention, however. Besides each of the door and at the bottom of each staircase were men and women, dressed in immaculate white suits. Something seemed subtly wrong about them in ways neither companion could properly identify. An emptiness behind their eyes and a stiffness of movement that made shivers crawl up both their spines.
Sirius was reminded of victims of the Dementors kiss, sending fight-or-flight response klaxons screaming in his head. He forcibly squashed the feeling down, reminding himself of their purpose here.
A man looked down at them from the top of the suitcase, clearly different from the dull-eyed servants. He was young- surely too young to have been a major player in the war?- with short black hair, wearing a completely golden suit, matching the aesthetic of the parlor, with a glittering, translucent cane.
"Remus Lupin! I am glad to see you, old friend," the man said with no discernible accent, descending the stairs and throwing out his arms, seemingly intending to hug the werewolf.
Remus looked faintly bemused. "I don't believe we've ever actually met in person, mister...?"
The man reached them in a few more paces, but stopped short of actually embracing Remus, seemingly taking note of his disheveled appearance and instead holding out a hand. "Any friend of Dumbledore," he said cheerfully as they shook, "is a friend of mine. And my friends call me Alabaster.
Before Remus had a chance to reply the man turned to Sirius and smiled at him.
"And this must be the enigmatic Mr. Black, free at last."
Sirius just nodded, but kept his hand resting lightly on his wand. If the mobster was bothered by this, he didn't show it."
"Now that the pleasantries are finished, we should retreat to a more suitable location. If I am not mistaken, you are here to discuss business, and that is best done in comfort."
Moments later, ushered by the strange, glassy-eyed servants and Alabaster's exuberantly rambling speech, the companions found wandering down several maze-like hallways, each as much a display of naked wealth as the parlor had been. The place was clearly enormous, and the travelers wandered for several minutes before finding themselves in a far smaller- though still palatial- lounge. A roaring fire lay at one end, pouring heat into the room, and paintings lined the walls, it's occupants peering curiously at the new arrivals. While nowhere near as ostentatious as the rest of the manse had been, Sirius still suspected the decorations alone were likely worth more than most houses.
Alabaster strode across the room, seating himself on a plush couch next to a glass table, and gestured at the other couch opposite him. As he sat down, still feeling more than a bit uneasy, Sirius saw that the glass table surface was being held up on an ornate painted statue. It depicted several individuals heaving bags of gold, seemingly bent double under the weight, faces somewhere between a grin and a grimace, supporting the table with their backs or the top of their heads. Creepy.
Alabaster clapped, and seconds later another of his strange servants appeared from some side-passage or shadowy corner with a tea-tray, setting it down silently on the table before disappearing again.
"Excuse the help, I know they can be off-putting to newcomers," Alabaster said, pouring himself a cup of tea. "I simply don't trust house elves. How can you trust anything so loyal?"
"You knew we were coming," Remus said, ignoring both the refreshments and the conversational bait. Alabaster was clearly a man of unusual charisma, and it was never a wise idea to be too casual with someone like that. He reminded Remus far too much of Voldemort.
Alabaster waved him off. "Nothing happens on this island that I don't know about it. Even if you hadn't caused such a fuss with the League on your way in, I would surely have heard about a werewolf and a convict entering my country. You are lucky that Hunter you met on your way here was one of mine, or both of you would in the Ministries dungeon by now- and even I couldn't get you out of there."
Sirius stilled. So, the Hunter had detected him after all. It seemed they owed Alabaster already.
"And," he continued, "You are equally lucky I am curious about your purpose here, or this residence would not have been revealed to you, and the goblins that were tracking you would have tracked you down by now."
Twice owed, then.
"We didn't ask for you help," Remus said calmly. "We don't owe you for that. Our... dealings today start from a blank slate."
"There's no such thing, Mister Lupin. But that is besides the point- I assume you need my help. But why come all the way to Ireland for me? What can the Gilded King offer that none else can? And by what circumstances does two men who should, by all rights, wish each other dead come to be companions?"
Sirius spoke up now. The story he told was an extremely abridged one, but it was still more truth than fiction. Both men had discussed at length what exactly they would tell their potential benefactor, and in the end had agreed to avoid outright lying as much as possible- that would only jeopardize the mission later- but to instead stay light on the details and keep it vague where they could. Pettigrew wasn't mentioned, and neither was Atticus- Remus simply said that Sirius was being blackmailed by some undesirables of his and left it at that.
It was obvious Alabaster didn't believe Sirius' claim of innocence, but it was also obvious he didn't particularly care either way. Death eater or no, to a man like the Gilded King it made no difference.
"So," Alabaster said when they were finished, "You want my help retrieving this mysterious object from the department of mysteries?"
"No," Remus replied, watching his reaction carefully. "We can handle that. But we can't let whatever it is we're stealing fall into the hands of the people who hired us. We want your help in double-crossing them."
Alabaster sat back, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face, as though the final piece of puzzle had just fallen into place. "Ah! Delightful- what a web you weave. Spiriting you away to safety after the robbery is entirely within my powers, as would the unfortunate and accidental deaths of those individuals behind your situation. But the problem arises with the subject of payment- what can two poor fugitives offer me in return?"
Sirius shared a look with Remus, wordlessly communicating with each other.
"We're breaking into the Department of Mysteries. Surely there's something in those vaults you're interested in?"
"How bold of you! It is hardly a matter of wandering around and taking what you like. Are you truly so confident in your ability to steal another object? How exactly are you going to achieve this heist?"
Remus stayed completely silent, staring woodenly at the mobster opposite them. After a moment Alabaster shrugged.
"No, I suppose telling me would rather defeat the whole point."
A beat.
"Yes, the Department of Mysteries has many trinkets of interest that I would like to obtain," Alabaster said, "If you are sure you are able to break into the ministry safely, then..."
Alabaster trailed off, looking pensively into the distance. After several more seconds Sirius could take it no longer and interrupted by loudly clearing his throat.
The benefactor snapped out of his trance and stood up, leaving his half-drunk cup of tea on the table. A second later one of his servants appeared to collect it, picking up the tray in complete silence and retreated back into the shadowy passage they had emerged from a second later.
"You have given me much to think about, and more than a few people to talk to. Return to Britain and I'll send word to you about the specifics of my price." Alabaster checked his watch, and frowned. "Assuming you make it out of here, of course."
Remus stilled completely. "What do you mean by that?"
"The kill-squad currently camped out in in the forest scanning for you will be a considerable obstacle, if I haven't seriously underestimated your abilities."
Sirius swore and jumped off the couch, wand drawn in an instant and pointed at Alabaster. "You're throwing us to the wolves?"
"No, I'm merely refusing to protect you from them," the Gilded King replied with a shrug. "My power isn't unlimited Mr. Black, even here, and starting a war with the I.L.G would be a particularly unprofitable enterprise. Harboring you here or giving you safe passage back to Britain would be too much an insult for their leadership to bear after the foolishness of your entrance here. I assure you, if you make it back to your home intact, then I have every intention of working with you."
Sirius snarled, but restrained himself from cursing the arrogant mobster right then and there. This entire trip was beginning to feel like a bad idea, but it would be an act of sheer stupidity to actually attack Alabaster in his own home. The mobster seemed totally unprotected, but Sirius wasn't fool enough to think he'd so much as get a single curse off before being stopped.
Besides, he was still agreeing to help them, after all.
"Now I'm afraid I must ask you to leave. If we are operating under the pretense that I have rejected your offer, then it would be rather suspicious for you to stay too long. When you appear outside, run to the oak tree and then head left- any more help than that, I'm afraid, I can't offer you. Goodbye, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin."
With that, the Gilded King clapped again, the air seemed to constrict around both of them. In the next instant they were outside in the cold Irish air, dumped unceremoniously on the ground. There was no sign of the cathedral, and the area looked totally different from the location they had approached it in.
"Anti-apparition curse is already up," Remus said grimly, his wand glowing the soft red of a detection spell confirming the worst. He had already put on a disillusionment charm while Sirius had been sitting dumbly on the ground, and was scanning his surroundings with a practiced eye.
"Transform," Remus continued, wand flashing a dozen colors as he waved it at the surrounding undergrowth.
Sirius frowned, pride and caution fighting for dominance in his mind. Before he had a chance to speak, Remus shot him a piercing glare.
"We aren't fighting our way out of here Sirius."
Swearing, Sirius cast a quick disillusionment charm over himself and morphed into his animagus form. Remus was right, he knew- if they were going to get out of here it would be by subterfuge, not fancy wand-work. Metheldula and some scraggly goblins had nearly killed both of them, if they were being ambushed by trained I.L.G killers or, even worse, Hunters, fighting would be a death sentence.
Thankfully, it seemed that Alabasters instructions were no trick, at least not yet- only a few dozen feet ahead of them, a thick-trunked oak tree loomed, sticking out against the birch and willows that dominated the forest.
Moving low against the ground, the two moved hastily towards the base of the oak, Remus' ears and eyes, and Sirius' nose both hyper-focused on finding anything out of place in the forest. The undergrowth was thick, though not tall, and both had to move with exaggerated caution to avoid making any unnecessarily noise- it seemed their pursuers were being equally cautious, as neither could detect even the slightest noise or scent out of the ordinary.
Breathless seconds passed as they moved across the damp leaves- ground was thankfully still wet from that mornings rain, muffling their footsteps.
However, any hope of getting out of Ireland without any further provocation were dashed as they came to the base of the oak. There, barely a few feet ahead of them, and directly in their path, a tall figure in a green coat was crouched, facing the opposite direction. On his head was the trademark tall metal hat of the Hunters- almost comical were it not for the dire circumstances and the fearsome reputation they held. It seems the Irish governments hatred of werewolves trumped their hatred of the I.L.G.
As Remus raised his own wand, the figure seemed to realize something, back straightening, and for a moment Sirius thought he was about to raise an alarm- but instead the Hunter only moved to tap his wand against the top of his head, putting a disillusionment charm over himself. Whether movement had made the spell come undone, or he'd forgotten to apply it in the first place, Sirius couldn't tell. All he knew was how lucky they had just been. Had the charm been up, it was unlikely they would have seen him until it was too late, still as he was against the background.
Wordlessly, Remus concentrated for a second and a red light spat out of his wand, striking the Hunter in the thin crack between his collar and hat. As he did, Sirius leapt over the scrub in one bound and placed his physical body between the Hunter and the ground, muffling the damp thump of his limp body.
Their thin luck ran out at that moment, however. Even as Remus snuck over and let the body down gently on the leaves, a shout of alarm went up to their right. Moments later a clamor of voices began to move rapidly towards them.
Swearing violently, Remus stood up and with a roared spell Sirius had never heard before, a blast of purple fire screamed out of his wand, setting the surroundings ablaze. The fire grew rapidly, spreading through the wet trees as though they were little more than kindling, creating a wall of heat between them and the hunters.
It wouldn't be enough- if the initial shout had drawn their pursuers attention, then whatever Remus had done had alerted everything in five miles of their location. The two broke into a a dead sprint as the fire grew to their right. Burning the whole forest down wouldn't help them if they were burned along with it, and Sirius could only hope that the presumed safe place that Alabaster had directed them too was close.
Even as they ran, more voices began shouting to their right, and Sirius could just barely make out figures on broomsticks above the low treeline. He darted forward, physically ramming into Remus to knock him out of the way of a golden spell that shot over his own head and detonated in the leaf-covered ground, covering them in a shower of debris. Remus righted himself and kept sprinting forward.
A moment later the owners of the other voices became apparent. Goblins, neither like the aristocrats of Gringotts or the scraggly lot they had met on their way into Ireland. These were heavily armored yet moving swift, clad in smooth, glowing steel, clearly enchanted in some manner. Several held crossbows, and the rest wicked-looking pikes, and among them were several taller figures, wizards and witches, in flowing cloaks and wielding wands. It seemed in only a few seconds absolute hell would begin raining down on them.
The fire to their right was gradually curving in front of them, cutting off their path- if they were even still heading in the right direction after all the chaos. In a few seconds it would start directing them right into their pursuers, if they even lived long enough for it to be an issue.
Even as the realization just how thoroughly screwed they were hit him, the two slammed through a particularly thick bit of undergrowth and staggered into a clearing, suspiciously devoid of the plant that filled the rest of the hillside, and Remus- not even having the time to check whether this was anything more than a bizarre co-incidence, grabbed Sirius by the midriff and twisting his whole body midair.
The world twisted around them with a dull pop even as spellfire and crossbow bolts slammed into the empty dirt they had occupied just seconds ago.
Sirius gasped, practically feeling the Grim Reaper standing over his shoulder, and looked around their new location. It was the same apparating point they had arrived at after fleeing the ministry.
Sirius transformed back into human form, and for a few quiet minutes they both just sat on the cold concrete, gasping for breath as the adrenaline cycled its way out of both their systems.
"What," Sirius managed after he'd regained some composure, "the hell was it you did back there?"
Remus paused for a moment and, still somewhat winded, grinned widely. "Meant to use Fiendfyre and buggered up the pronunciation. Not the foggiest what I actually cast."
Sirius burst into peals of slightly manic laughter, soon joined by Remus as they both on the floor of the room. Their meeting with the Gilded King hadn't proved as fruitful as Sirius had hoped, but it also hadn't been a complete disaster. Maybe, if all went well, and luck decided to finally stay with the two of them for more than five minutes, they could actually pull this thing off. Stranger things had, after all, happened.
