A/N: Chapters will get longer as the story progresses - I'm just finding my bearings at the moment!


Sirius Black - for there wasn't a witch or wizard alive who didn't know him on sight - darted forward before the gasp even rose up out of her throat, plastering one hand over her mouth while the other grabbed the wrist of her wand hand and held it in place.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said intently, grey eyes fixed on hers "Harry told me to meet you here - do you understand?"

He wasn't drawing his own wand - she registered that first. Nor was he disarming her of her own. His grip on her wrist was just tight enough to keep her arm down, but it wasn't trying to wrench the wand from her grip, it wasn't trying to hurt her. It was his actual words that she registered last, blinking owlishly at him and forcing herself to still in his hold. He felt it, he sighed in relief, and he finally let go, taking a few steps back. His gaze remained fixed on her, as though expecting it to be a feint so she could get the room needed to attack him. It was a wise suspicion, really, considering that's what she normally would have done. But now she didn't.

"You…" Heather started the sentence without really planning out how she intended to continue it - so she ended up saying whatever first came to mind "You licked my hand."

Now it was his turn to blink.

"What? I didn't- oh. Back there. Er. Yes. I suppose I did. Sorry. Force of habit."

Heather stared at him. He was dressed in rags - in what might've once been a long sleeved black top that was still hopelessly thin for this climate, and the jeans were just barely held up by his hips. The man was just as skinny as the dog had been. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he endured her stare, before he decided the silence was apparently too unbearable to allow to continue.

"You are Heather Potter, yes? I probably should have made sure before, well…You don't have the same resemblance Harry does, you see, but I just saw the hair and the glasses and I…"

"Yeah- I…Heather Barrett," she corrected, ignoring the way his brow threatened to twitch into a frown in response "But yeah. I'm Harry's sister. He told me to come to Hogsmeade, he just didn't elaborate on why. Now I can understand why he left it out."

"And he told you I'm innocent? The lack of screaming would suggest so, but I should probably clarify it just in case it's on the way…"

"He did, yeah, he…he, uh, he did," her brain was still furiously whirring, trying to catch up "The animagus part, however…"

Sirius' smile was a weary one, emphasising the tired lines on his face "For your own safety. The fewer who know, the better, I'm afraid."

It made sense. She couldn't be pried for information she didn't have.

"Right, well…that makes sense…" she trailed off "Look, I'm sorry, uh, I need to sit down for a minute."

"Of course, of course," he stepped aside so she could walk to the bed, sinking down onto the edge of it.

Once he seemed certain that she wasn't about to burst into fits of hysterics, he made for the hearth, crouching down beside it and splaying his hands towards the flames to warm them.

"I've been wanting to meet you, you know," he offered "But I've been out of the country, and before that I was…"

"I didn't need you," she said - and then winced at how it sounded "I mean, you're Harry's godfather. Not mine. Unless they wrote some sort of weird clause into the adoption papers, I suppose - they didn't, did they?"

He snorted "Not that I'm aware."

"So there's no issue. Don't worry. I don't feel slighted."

"How do you feel?"

"Like a dog just followed me to my room and transformed into Sirius Black."

He paused, and then gave a tired, hoarse laugh "I suppose that's a fair feeling. Although I would argue that you followed me."

"Like a dog just walked into my room and transformed into Sirius Black, then," she corrected herself.

"That one, I can't argue with."

"Good. I'm glad we could agree."

Although he was no longer laughing, the weary smile remained on Sirius' face. It was strange, seeing him smile - she was so used to the screaming and glaring on the wanted posters.

"He told me you were an odd one," he said.

"Harry?"

"No, Remus - Remus Lupin. You've met a couple of times, apparently."

"Ah. Fair."

He probably wasn't wrong. Nor did he likely mean it as an insult - she had only met him once or twice, but he seemed the sort to have a healthy appreciation for odd ones. Hell, he was friends with Sirius Black.

"Harry thinks you can walk on water," Sirius clarified.

"Only if it's frozen."

"That would be ice."

"If you're going to keep nitpicking at me like this, we're in for a very rough time."

That earned her a smile - a proper smile, too, which only served to emphasise how gaunt his features were.

"Sorry. Genuinely, though, are you alright? You've gone very pale."

"I usually am," she waved a hand, shaking her head "I…I'm fine. Sorry. Got a bit of a shock."

"I'm not sure I can hold it against you, considering I gave you it."

She wasn't, either, she didn't even know why she'd apologised. An attempt to feel less awkward, perhaps, and a failed one at that. But she was slowly overcoming her shock - the numbness wearing off and the inability to speak (really speak, beyond stupid snark) with it. Finally, Heather pushed herself into acting.

"I'll go and buy food from the shop down the street - Rosmerta will get suspicious if I suddenly start ordering a crapload of food. Clothes will look shifty too, I'm afraid, but…erm…I don't know, I'll think of something. The bathroom's through there, it has a pretty impressive tub if you need a way to warm up fast."

"You really don't have to."

"No, I do - I should. When I come back I'll knock five times so you know it's me. There's not anything you're deathly allergic to, is there? Or just hate? Almost everything here seems to have pumpkin in it, but I suppose that's…seasonal…" she trailed off, not just because she was rambling again but because a very obvious question had only just occurred to her "Why are you here?"

He pressed his lips together, obviously to stop himself from laughing at her (there was no cruelty in the gesture, though), but any humour quickly vanished and was replaced by tiredness - tiredness only amplified by the general state he was in.

"You've heard about Harry's name being put in the Goblet of Fire?" He asked.

"I…Yeah. But it's probably nothing serious, right? It was probably, oh, I don't know. Draco Malfoy trying his best to be clever."

"Do you really believe that?" He raised his eyebrows.

He appeared exasperated that she'd even entertain the notion - and she didn't blame him, because she herself knew it was wishful thinking before she'd even finished the sentence.

"No," she admitted "But what else could it be?"

Heather didn't particularly want him to actually answer that question.

"…And he's told you of his scar paining him?" Sirius asked.

"What?"

Sirius made a face "Apparently not, then."

"Since when? How long has it been bothering him?"

"I…" it was his turn to hesitate now, wincing "He mentioned it first happening sometime over summer."

"Over summer? But I saw him for the World Cup and he didn't breathe a word…"

"I expect he didn't want to worry you. I shouldn't have brought it up."

She suspected he wouldn't have, were he not freezing and starved. It probably didn't do wonders for mental clarity.

"You bloody well should have - his scar hurting and now this? With the tournament? The disappearances? The attack at the cup? That's…It's…"

"Not good?" Sirius suggested.

"Yeah. Not great," she said flatly "Shit."

"We mustn't worry him," he said, his eyes remaining insistently on hers as if to emphasise the gravity of his point through sheer force of eye contact alone.

"Of course not," Heather waved a hand "I'm not about to storm the castle in a fit of hysteria, don't worry. I won't tell him you told me, either."

"Thank you," he sighed…and then his eyes flickered towards the door.

Ah. The promise of food. She imagined it wasn't far from his mind, even if he was too proud to ask.

"Okay, I'll be back. That wasn't a Terminator reference."

That earned her another confused blink, but she shrugged it off - it had been daft of her to quote something that had come out during his imprisonment, anyway. She doubted he'd been spending his time in hiding catching up on Muggle pop culture references.

"Remember what I said about the door - if it's less than five knocks…"

"I'll Apparate and meet you on the street outside," he paused and then clarified "In dog form."

"Might save us a bit of trouble, yeah," Heather was already pulling on her coat and making for the door, stopping only to offer a very awkward wave before she slipped out of the room, shut the door behind her, and then finally stopped to sigh a quiet "Fuck."


Sirius stifled a laugh, even if it was a weary one, as he listened to Heather swear quietly outside the door before her footsteps faded. The time would drag now that he knew the promise of more food lay on the other side of the wait, but he reasoned with himself that he'd gotten by this long subsisting on rats and scraps. He could wait a bit longer. The room was decent enough by normal standards, but by his it might as well have been a wing of a palace. The warmth of the fire and the distinct lack of biting wind would take some getting used to - if he was here for long enough to get used to it - so he huddled by the fire and resisted the urge to pull the covers from the bed. The bath in the next room was promising, and ever since she'd mentioned it the grime he was caked in suddenly felt all the more itchy and uncomfortable, but he'd wait for that, too. The last thing he needed was Rosmerta swanning in and finding him at his most, er, vulnerable.

Holding his hands out towards the flames, he sighed tiredly and considered Heather. She wasn't what he'd expected. In truth, he hadn't even really expected anything - it wasn't like he'd sat and imagined what she would be like, but somehow she still…wasn't it. Time would tell whether the harried, jittery way she had about her was just how she was, or was thanks to his presence. The latter was more likely, he knew that, and at least she had a sense of humour. Best of all, she at least seemed like she could be trusted. After all, she'd put together a plan to help him with the very limited information she had before he'd even had a chance to, well, unlimit that information. Although he suspected she needed space and a moment to clear her mind more than anything. He didn't relish dragging her into this, but at least it gave them a chance to meet - for he had been curious about her. And if times were heading the way they looked to be, she'd need to be on her guard more than anybody else, bar perhaps Harry himself.

While Harry was the double of James with the exception of his eyes, but Heather was the doppelganger of neither. Yes, she had the glasses and the red hair, but plenty of people had those. She snarked the same way James would, and when she rolled her eyes there was a glimmer of Lily, but maybe that was the hair…and it was faint. He didn't look at her and see ghosts. For that much, he was grateful - today, at least. It would have been a lot to process in his current state. His eyes burned with every blink, and the only thing keeping him from dozing right here and now on the floor was the promise of food on the way.