On their next visit, Heather made good on her promise and brought her radio. They listened to it together, with her offering up explanations to the songs he didn't recognise, and hiding her smile at the happiness that eased the strain about his mouth and eyes when one came on that he did know. So she kept bringing the radio, and it became a fixture in the kits she'd assemble each week just as much as food and warming potions. She'd even offered to let him keep it, but he turned the offer down, citing not only a desire to avoid drawing attention, but to not have any sort of approach muffled by Jimmy Page's genius guitar work.

Despite the presence of the music to take the edge off of any silence that might settle, though, they still talked - not just to compare notes on whatever news they'd heard since they saw one another last. About the music, about Hogwarts, about Harry, about the state of the world. Sirius' voice was unused to being, well, used and he often talked himself hoarse, and then kept talking anyway. Ordinarily, Heather would've struggled with such a thing. She had coworkers and customers who would talk for longer than a few minutes and she'd start to feel her eyes glazing over and her mind drifting as she mumbled out "yeahs" every so often just to cover her ass.

She'd been prepared to endure that with Sirius - and she begrudged it infinitely less, knowing he needed somebody to speak to more than anybody who bored her at work complaining about their shitty boyfriends, rude customers, the weather, or whatever - so it came as a pleasant surprise when there wasn't much enduring involved. He wasn't half as belligerent as the Ministry would have people believe…or as a decade in Azkaban probably should have left him. In fact, he was probably a great deal less belligerent than she could be at the end of a long shift on a bad day. But no - he was good company. Clever, funny, willing to talk about the state of things without that discussion amounting to making a face and sighing "I'm sure it'll be fine"...and, most importantly, he'd dropped the matter of James and Lily entirely. Maybe it was only for now, but she appreciated it nonetheless, and her Friday nights quickly morphed from being the chore she'd expected them to be to…well, just a hangout. Even if Scott still felt very much abandoned and suspicious.

If she hadn't already known that he felt that way - which was more or less impossible, given that the man was an open book - she damn well would have when he was waiting by the door to the apothecary at the end of her shift one Friday evening.

"Well, you're not dressed for a date," he said thoughtfully in the way of greeting.

"You know," Heather huffed, shouldering her bag and crossing her arms "It's downright comical for a lad that looks like you to gossip like a woman."

"And it's disappointing for a girl as clever as you to make such terribly sexist comments," he shrugged easily.

"Touche. I'm not dressed for a date because I'm not going on a date. I told you. I'm off to Scotland."

She was even dressed for it, too, in a thick green turtleneck, jeans, and fleece-lined boots. Spring might've been fast approaching, but it would still be a while before the highlands of Scotland knew that. It wasn't a bad outfit by any means, but the patches of squid ink here and there in the ends of her hair probably weren't very date-worthy.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me why you're off to Scotland, which isn't like you."

"I've told you what I can - which is that I can't tell you anything. If I could, I would, and if you knew then you'd agree with me."

"I can come to Scotland with you, you know. If you need back-up, or an extra set of eyes or fists."

"You've got the radio thing."

"Darren can take over if need be. He'd love it, the daft bastard, he's always looking for a captive audience."

It was tempting to tell him - so tempting. Scott was her dearest friend, more of a brother than a friend, really, and had been long before she'd ever met her actual brother. Not telling him something felt sorely unnatural. But it wasn't her secret to tell, and there was far too much at stake. It wasn't a normal secret, where blabbing risked a bit of embarrassment or even just a scandal. If she couldn't keep her mouth shut, Sirius could go back to Azkaban. Back to the place that had him waking up with half-shouted pleas and obscenities every time she saw him, which spoke volumes considering the man barely flinched when it came time to return to his cave each week. The least she could do was keep her mouth shut. Harry would never forgive her if her mouth got Sirius caught - Sirius would never forgive her, she'd never forgive herself, and she wouldn't deserve that forgiveness.

"Not with this one, Scott," Heather said firmly "Not now. Leave it - seriously."

Whether it was her words that finally drove the message home, or the pointed look she followed them up with, the gravity she was trying to impress upon him finally seemed to hit. Brow furrowing, he switched quickly from needling to genuine troubled worry, eyes scanning her face for any hint of what might be going on.

"Shit," he said finally "Okay. Just…I'm here, yeah? Anything you need."

There were plenty of people in the world who would say that and have zero follow-through. Scott was not one of them.

"Yeah. Thanks," she nodded "I'll see you later."


If Heather's mind hadn't been stuck on her conversation with Scott - and the fact that somehow talking about this with somebody other than via vague statements in her letters with Harry suddenly made it feel all the more real - she might've sensed Sirius' bad mood a bit more quickly. Sure. he didn't greet her with his usual barking and tail-wagging, but that could have meant anything. The way he morphed into a human and brandished a letter before her the moment the door was shut and locked behind them, however, wasn't quite as open to interpretation.

"Did Harry tell you about this?" he asked.

"What?" she blinked at him wide-eyed, lowering her bag to the floor.

"About Crouch? And Krum?"

"Oh," she made a face "That. Yeah, he did."

"He shouldn't have walked into that situation. He should have known better than that," Sirius said.

"You don't need to tell me that - it's just…it's what he does."

"Have you told him that?" He asked sharply.

Heather blinked. There was an accusation in that question - one that was painstakingly clear to any ear.

"Excuse me?"

Sirius sighed, shaking his head and dropping his hands to his side, taking a moment to visibly school his thoughts before he regarded her again, an exasperated frown on his face.

"I understand that the role of…of the cool older sibling would be an appealing one, and that harping on about safety and caution may threaten to spoil that a bit, but you must say it all the same, Heather. He has to hear it. There's too much at stake here."

There was a smile on her face, but there was no happiness in that smile - just disbelief and sheer annoyance.

"Are you joking?"

"I'm not trying to tell you off," he insisted "But-"

"Good, because I don't know who the fuck you think you are to tell me off. You think I'd prioritise my cool big sister role over keeping him safe? Are you actually kidding me on? Do you have any idea of the sort of brick wall I've been smashing my face into for the last three years? I say hey, maybe don't go digging into the dangerous thing being guarded by the even more dangerous three-headed dog, he says cool, won't do then, and promptly does it anyway. I say hey, maybe don't go seeking out the big scary snake that's trying to kill Muggle-borns, he says cool, won't do then, and then he does it anyway. I say hey, maybe don't go seeking out the dangerous madman who broke out of prison to kill you, he says cool, won't do then, and can you guess what he does next? Are you sensing the pattern here, or do I need to spell it out?"

"I didn't mean to…I only meant that…"

"You meant that I'd view buying him vodka and rolling him joints as being of greater priority than his safety."

"I didn't know."

"You didn't - but you assumed. If I'm doing this for you, what is it you imagine I'd do for my brother? The only thing that happens if I try to scold him for doing anything is that he stops telling me exactly what it is he's doing."

"How did I manage to make him swear he wouldn't repeat the incident then?" he challenged.

"You did?"

"Yes."

"Then congratulations, you got more out of him on that score than I ever have."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"So I'm negligent and a liar?"

"I'm not saying anything of the sort, Heather. But the boy adores you, he would listen."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking that because it was easy for you, it would be for everybody. You're the- the cool, roguish rebel godfather. You are somebody to be listened to. I'm the hysterical older sister who gets shielded from things by her little brother the second she shows a split second of panic."

At this, he finally seemed lost for words, frowning and then finally asking "Hysterical? Really?"

"It's a reputation you kind of earn when you throw up before every single one of your NEWT exams."

"That's…that's almost sort of impressive."

The joke was a peace offering if she'd ever heard one.

"And very dehydrating," she crossed her arms, shrugging her shoulders at the same time "He doesn't listen to me, Sirius. Not when it comes to stuff like this. If I show concern, that's construed as panic, then I get told nothing. At least if I know, I can help. Ignorance isn't bliss with this shit."

"What is?"

"A strong drink, usually."

His eyebrows rose for a moment and he nodded as he looked away as if to say that he could use one of those right now. Heather didn't bother pointing out that drinking in his state was probably the worst thing he could do right now - he already knew, and it wasn't like he was asking for one.

"I'm sorry," he said finally - and sincerely "I've been stewing, and it shows. Nobody could accuse you of not caring. Least of all Harry."

"Thank you. It's fine. Let's just forget about it."

Digging into her black leather work satchel where it sat at her hip, she pulled out her portable radio, along with her notebook and quill, hoping that it would signify that they were truly back to business as usual. As unusual as that business was.

"So we're friends again?"

"I'll keep supplying the food, you keep providing the questionable opinions on the discography of Led Zeppelin."

"One day, Heather, you'll accept that Kashmir is better than Stairway."

"And on that day we'll know my taste levels are well and truly gone."

It was with that insult that Sirius seemed to accept that they really were friends again, slowly taking up the tote bag she'd left at his feet like an offering to some sort of bizarre pagan god.

"He told me about the care packages you send him, you know. Offered to share them with me before he came up with the idea of just cutting out the middle-man."

"Mm."

"I didn't think you'd like that plan, given that they're meant for him."

"I'd like it less if he offered to share them with you while he was at the Dursleys," she sighed "At least I know Hogwarts feeds him properly. During term time, they're less functional and more just…reminding him he has people. Family. Such as it is, I guess."

Dragging the bag to his usual spot by the fire, Sirius paused in his sifting through it, regarding her carefully with a slight, sad frown.

"During summer, though, it's to make sure he actually damn well eats," she grumbled "I had to tell those stupid bastards he's related to that I put a curse on them so that if his git of a cousin eats what I send, he'll end up horribly sick."

"How often do you send them?"

"Depends. Every three weeks or so at Hogwarts - less if he's going through that teen thing of finding that sort of gesture mortifying. When he's at the Dursleys? Fortnightly at least. More when I can afford it. Hell, sometimes more even if I can't, depending on if he lets something slip in a letter that worries me. He's getting better at not doing that as he gets older, though."

"That's good of you."

"It feels like hopelessly little," she snorted "I keep begging Dumbledore to just let him move in with me full time, but he won't have it. Won't explain why, either. Last time he put his foot down and told me to stop asking altogether. I visit when I can - day trips away and that, but I have to limit it because it only gives them an excuse to be arseholes to him, and it's not like they need an excuse to begin with."

"...Maybe he has a good reason. Dumbledore, I mean."

Sirius' rueful tone told her he was saying that more for her benefit than because he agreed with the decision.

"Maybe he could explain that good reason so we could all sleep better at night."

"It'll take more than that to help me as far as that's concerned," he muttered.

Heather could relate to that…but voicing that and comparing her woes to his felt laughable, so she stayed quiet.


A/N: Sirius is right, Kashmir is better than Stairway to Heaven. Goes without saying that both absolutely slap, though.

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