"Snape was furious about the whole thing - weirdly furious, really," Heather sighed "He wanted to believe it even less than I did, but Dumbledore had been headmaster at the time and McGonagall was their head of year - she could attest to enchanting Lily's robes personally so that she mightn't, er, show."

"The greasy git went to school with us. Probably furious that something was going on beneath that giant nose of his that he'd been totally unaware of."

"Maybe," she shrugged, returning to scratching away at her endless to-do lists and notes from work "But McGonagall had performed the concealing charms herself once Lily started showing, and she had no reason to lie about it. He had to listen once she vouched for the story. Either way, though, I was the one that paid the price for it. Nobody could believe it - I went from being his star pupil to the only Slytherin he'd consistently take house points from basically overnight. Doesn't matter, though. Got my grade, got my reference, got my job."

And the panic attacks she had each night before she was set to have Potions class the next day were best left unmentioned.

"Did they tell you much? About James and Lily? About the circumstances?"

"This and that. Not heaps. I didn't really ask."

She hoped he might take that hint, but he did not.

"The adoption was always meant to be a fairly open one, you know. That's why they gave you to those Muggles - they were going to tell them the full truth before your magic showed. Keep everybody in the loop. But, well, they took you and then they disappeared."

"Hm. Sounds like Debbie," she shrugged…and thanked Merlin that he couldn't see the way her hand wobbled and botched the 'e' she'd been scrawling down.

Judging by his face when she glanced up, he'd hoped for a bit more of a reaction to that. But what did he want? Floods of tears? Gratitude? Whatever the truth, whatever way he saw it, it made sod all difference to her now. He had to defend his buddies, that was fair, but she didn't have to see them the way he did, nor care in the same way he seemed to.

"Have we met?" She asked "Y'know, when I was uh, smaller?"

"No," he shook his head "Lily wanted her space after. We all respected that."

"Ah."

"She spent two days with you - and James, of course - and then you went to the Muggles."

Heather nodded slowly, but said little else.

"Remus could've told you this, you know. If you'd asked."

"I can count the amount of times I've met him on one hand - and I don't even need all five fingers. Would've been…weird."

"This is only the second time you've met me," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but everything about this is weird, so there's no pretence of social normality to ruin. No offence."

That, at least, earned her a raspy laugh "None taken. You have a point, I suppose."

"I usually do," she hummed.

"Ah, and modest too."

"Don't forget talented and beautiful."

The effect of her jokeful boasting was somewhat ruined by her ratty cardigan, faded band tee, and the fact that she couldn't quite recall when she'd last brushed her hair. But that was why messy buns were invented.

"And a smart arse," he snorted.

"Could be worse," she shrugged "Imagine if I was stupid. Wouldn't that be shit luck? You get one person to talk to throughout all of this, and you're stuck with somebody who can't string a sentence together for the life of them."

"Nobody could be as boring as that cave."

"Ouch. Well. That's put me in my place, then."

"I didn't mean to," he gave a tired smile that was almost handsome - beneath the sheer hardship painted across every bit of him.

So far, she got the impression that was when she saw the true him most - when he smiled, laughed, or even when he frowned. That was when she was looking at him, and not what had been done to him. Especially when he laughed, though, tired and hoarse as that laugh often was.

"It's okay, now my head can fit through the door again. Just have a couple of nice little compliments ready for next time, yeah? Reestablish equilibrium."

"I'll give it a great deal of thought," he said seriously and then made a face "Although I suppose having to put a great deal of thought into what compliment to give, in itself, isn't too complimentary."

"What can I say? I'm grateful for what I can get," she replied drily.

Sirius laughed, and then silence began to fall. Heather let it - the only thing that could be more awkward than silence was forced conversation when there was no need for it. The man was practically dead on his feet, anyway, where he sat huddled by the fire.

"Take the bed," she murmured "I never sleep much in a bed that isn't mine, anyway."

"I will. Soon," he said.

Heather's hand stilled for a moment. Ah. She supposed there was little to do other than sleep in that cave - and though this room could offer a bed and some degree of comfort, it could also offer conversation. How unfortunate for him, then, that she wasn't the sort who could sit down beside anybody, anywhere and talk like they were old friends from the get go. But she'd still try where she could - and somebody who'd talk his ear off would probably be a jarring adjustment anyway, she supposed.

"Led Zeppelin," he said.

"Sorry?" she blinked, certain she'd misheard.

"Your t-shirt - Led Zeppelin. I used to be a big fan. Always wished I could've seen them live."

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but you missed them."

"I know - John Bonham died before I…went away."

"Ah. Right. Sorry," she said "On the bright side, you still have options for once we get your name cleared. The Stones will outlive us all, Aerosmith too…AC/DC…there's KISS, too, I suppose."

"Never liked them much," he shrugged.

Heather smiled "Me either. Great minds, eh? There's Guns n' Roses, too…if Axl and Slash ever kiss and make up…and Motley Crue - Nikki Sixx has already died a couple of times but he keeps coming back with a vengeance, so the likelihood there's good too. Maybe one day he'll snatch Harry's moniker from him."

She was rambling, and she knew she was rambling, but mostly she was just so content to get away from the topic of James and Lily Potter that she was doing her utmost to stay on this new topic - the one that made her most comfortable, bar potions.

"That's one thing I never realised I'd miss so much - the music. I should've, considering how much I loved it before, but.." he trailed off and shrugged.

"You had other things to think about," Heather said "I know what you mean, though. To an extent. I hated leaving my albums behind just to go to Hogwarts, and being there was hardly a great hardship. I can't believe nobody's found a way to adapt Muggle music players or something just yet. You'd think it'd be possible. Wizards have phonographs, so even vinyl players or something…Scott's on it, in a way, though."

"The Scott from your calendar?"

"The very one. He has his own radio show a few nights a week - for Muggle-borns, or half-bloods, I suppose. Maybe even Pure-bloods with good taste. All Muggle music - the good shit, not that electronica crap."

"I can't imagine that makes him popular among the more idiotic of the Wizarding world."

"Which is just another upside in the mind of Scott," she snorted "Tell you what - make a list and I'll make sure he plays them next time. He's taken on Friday nights now, too, given our, uh, standing appointment."

"I'll take you up on that," he warned.

"Good. Do. It'll steer him away from the endless Nirvana loop he's on at the minute."

When she next looked up from her notebook, mouth already opened to pose a question, it never came to fruition when she found his head hanging forwards and him snoring softly. Brow furrowed in sympathy, she returned to her work…and tried to write a bit more quietly than before.


Sirius wasn't aware he'd fallen asleep until he woke up some time later with a horrendous ache in his neck from how it had craned forward. Warm and with a stomach packed with food, he could do little other than slowly clamber to his feet and make for the bed, cocooning himself in the blankets and allowing himself to doze again straight away after. He'd wonder if the incessant scribbling from across the room would become annoying, but in the end it ended up being a comfort - for when he did wake every so often, out of a habitual need to check his surroundings and make sure he hadn't been found, it was an instant confirmation that he wasn't alone, and didn't need to watch his own back for the time being. That was worth almost as much as the food.

He hadn't been sure what to make of her when he'd heard Moony say she was an odd one. Such a description wasn't necessarily an insult in their world, they were always a motley crew indeed, so if anything he'd just been more curious. And now he saw what his friend had meant - even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She wasn't odd in a way that was particularly eccentric - she didn't flurry in wearing a feather boa and a top hat before refusing to speak in anything but Mermish…thank Merlin. She was just…closed off. A bit twitchy, too. He would've chalked all of that up to his being the big bad Sirius Black if not for what Remus had told him.

Still, twitchiness aside - and it would hopefully fade anyway, once she was used to his presence - it was good of her to do this. And it was even better of her to play a blind eye to his quirks. The ones Azkaban had so delightfully bestowed upon him. He was certain that he had a habit of crying out in his sleep. There were times when he woke up with his throat dry and hoarse like he'd spent the last hour shouting himself ragged, and there'd be no indication of it on her face. And then there were times less up to speculation - where he'd shout himself awake, eyes flying open mid-word as he shot up, ready to fend off an assailant that wasn't there.

It would take a moment for his surroundings to register with him, and then he'd look around the room and find Heather exactly where she always was, writing or reading in the chair in the corner of the room. She wouldn't look at him, she wouldn't ask questions, she'd simply go about her work like he wasn't there at all. It would have even been a convincing display of not noticing what he was doing, were it not for how her actions would falter just slightly, or her eyes would be just a tad too firmly fixed on whatever was before her to seem totally natural. The only time when she reacted at all was one particularly bad time when he was woken up by a slamming noise from the hallway, and had tumbled from the bed with his wand in hand, ready to take on the squad of Ministry officials that his mind had conjured as the source of the noise. At that, she flinched just slightly, hand moving to her own wand as she watched him carefully. Sirius said nothing, lowered his, and returned to his former spot by the fire, not quite ready to attempt sleeping again. Heather offered no comment.

Sirius was grateful for it, though, and decided he'd return the favour by not pressing the matter of James and Lily with her. For now. It was only fair that each of them got to choose one topic to firmly avoid, he supposed.

Dawn found them both dozing - he on the floor and she in the chair - but when Sirius did finally wake up and noted the sunlight streaming in through the gap in the blinds, a sort of heaviness weighed upon him. He had a feeling that for as long as this little arrangement stood, the only thing worse than the Friday mornings - knowing that soon he would have food, warmth, and company, meaning the hours all but slowed to a glacial crawl - would be the Saturday mornings. He didn't show it - he'd been through worse than a week in a cave, and he was lucky to be able to find this respite at all. The last thing he wanted was for his resignation to show and have it pushing her into rifling through that comically over-packed diary of hers to find another night when she might be able to come toting luxuries. Because apparently food was a luxury in his mind, now. Even if it wouldn't have him feeling guilty, it would arouse too much suspicion. They were dancing with danger as it was.

Sighing heavily, he ate another few apples from the haul of food she'd brought - they'd go off the quickest of everything, so he didn't really worry about conserving them - and waited for her to wake up. He was already looking forward to the coming Friday, but he shoved that out of his mind. After all, he was here for a reason, and it wouldn't do to be distracted from it.