A/N: Hey, gang, sorry about the lateness, but there are some crucial plot points in this chapter that I really struggled to work in seamlessly. Either way, hope you guys enjoy!

Narcissa Malfoy clutches her son's hand tight as she makes her way to the portkey station. Draco is whining, about the heat, about the visit, everything, and it is starting to build to a headache. He really does take after Lucius that way.

"We are here to see Bellatrix Lestrange," she tells the wizard at the desk. The small Azkaban mainland office is stuffy, the heat even more oppressive inside than out. "I arranged a visit."

"Mrs. Malfoy!" The wizard realizes. "Er, right. If you'd just follow me, it'll be leaving in a mo'."

"Fine," she says sourly, pulling Draco closer.

"Mummy," he says softly, and promptly Narcissa's heart breaks. She hasn't been called that all summer, ever since Lucius had decided Draco was too old to do so. "I don't want to see Aunty Bella."

"Behave, Draco," she whispers. "You must be a very good boy."

"I don't like going," he says, squirming away as the portkey begins to glow. Narcissa sighs, hauling Draco up onto her hip. She grunts quietly under the weight but says nothing. Her son will never be a burden to her.

"Er, hands on please," the wizard says, offering the portkey—an empty ink bottle. Draco clings tight, burying his face in her neck. It is a testament to his fear that he doesn't whine about the indignation of being held.

The trip is brief, but portkey's have never agreed with her. She sways for a second, trying to find her balance before letting Draco down. He clings to her skirts, watching the dementors fly past. The wizard busies himself with conjuring up a patronus. After a few aborted tries, Narcissa hisses at him to stop.

"Expecto patronum!" The memory she conjures is fairly recent, just two years ago. She'd been sitting in the garden, watching Draco play with the new toy broomstick he'd gotten. He'd slipped off the end a few times but he hadn't cried once, instead clambering right back on with a fierce determination.

"Mummy! Are you watching? I'm doing it!" He'd called out after successfully mounting the broomstick. It only rose a scant two feet, just enough for Draco's feet to skim through the grass, but it excited him to no end. She watched as his face went rosy with pleasure.

Lucius had come out then, having heard the commotion, and to Narcissa's surprise, he'd beamed at Draco, swinging him up off the broomstick and up onto his shoulders.

"What a clever boy!"

The warmth of the memory flows through her, through her magic, and through her wand, resulting in a perfect raven. It flies on ahead, driving the dementors back.

"Thanks," the wizard says. Narcissa's lip curl. Probably a mudblood. Can't even do the spell correctly. She clutches Draco closer.

"Er, you can speak to her outside her cell—"

"We'll speak to her in the back office," she says, pouring ice over her words. People of lesser status seemed to fall into line more easily like that.

"Er, Mrs. Malfoy—"

"Do as I say," Narcissa says coldly. "Bring Bella to me." She leads Draco on ahead, letting him cling as closely as he pleased. The back office has been out of use for a while, but after her blood-traitor of a cousin escaped, they've been using it again.

Narcissa sits at the table, pulling Draco up into her lap. She smooths his hair back, trying to make his look more presentable. His hair is whiter—like Lucius—rather than silvery, like hers. Narcissa sighs; Bella hates anything to do with Lucius, even though Narcissa chose him herself.

"Cissy!" Bella looks truly awful, gaunt and pale in a way that makes her eyes bug out. Her hair is a tangle of black curls, and when she smiles, Narcissa's can't help but wrinkle her nose at the rotting teeth.

"Bella," she sighs, gently setting Draco down and hurrying over to sweep Bella into her arms. She hugs her sister hard, like she could force the life back into her. "Have you heard?"

"About dear, old Sirius?" Bella cackles. "Foolish! He's a blood traitor. The dark lord would never take scum like that."

"He's taken the girl," Narcissa says, a bit more urgently. "You said there was a contingency. Something to do with the girl."

"I need out of here before I can—Draco!" Draco shrinks back from his Aunt's gaze, but he takes a deep breath and makes his way over.

"Hello, Aunty Bella," he says politely. "How are you?" Bella scoffs, grabbing Draco's chin roughly. Narcissa scowls, ready to intervene, but Bella releases him with a sigh.

"You look more and more like your father everyday. Good for nothing but his looks and money," Bella says nastily.

"The contingency, Bella?" Narcissa says pointedly, offering her a seat. Bella drops heavily into the seat.

"Yes," she says. "We need to talk."

It's been three awful days, and Sirius is nearly sick with worry. Remus busies himself with teaching Harri, keeping her as occupied as he can. He'd asked Sirius to start teaching her latin, but he couldn't.

Harri watches him with concerned eyes, scrutinizing his every moves. It's something James would've done, although James would have confronted Sirius about it. Harri simply waits for him to talk about it. That, he has to attribute to Lily.

On the fourth day, Sirius picks at his breakfast, mostly watching the kitchen window. To his surprise, a large tawny owl flies towards them, and Sirius nearly unseats Harri in his haste to get to the window to let it in.

The owl hoot indignantly as Sirius plucks the letter off it's foot, but Remus is there to smooth ruffled feathers and get the owl something to drink and a treat.

Sirius,

It took some time to find someone willing to listen, but I found a Legisparitus willing to represent you. His name is Geoffrey Abbott. He is extremely accomplished and has agreed to take the case. You may remember him, he was a fifth year Hufflepuff when you were a first year. He's asked to meet to starting building your case. Please be at the Hogshead Pub at 3 pm tomorrow, where we will all meet to discuss.

Do not lose faith.

Albus

Sirius sighs, settling back weakly in his chair. Harri and Remus exchange worried looks, so he hands the letter to Remus, who reads it aloud at Harri's insistence.

"Well," Remus says. "This is good news, right?"

"I… yeah, it is," Sirius says. There's a heavy pit in his stomach, a tight ache that makes him distrustful. "Do you remember this Geoffrey bloke, then?"

"Can't say I do, but he was a Hufflepuff, so there's that, at least," Remus says. He sets a comforting hand on the back of Sirius's neck, just above his shoulder blades, his fingers brushing through the mangy locks.

"We'll be alright, now, won't we?" Harri asks. "This man is going to help us, right?"

"Course he is," Remus assures her. Sirius forces himself to smile, to ruffle her hair a bit, but she sees through him effortlessly, her small features pinching up in uncharacteristic anger.

"I'm not going to let anyone take you!" she declares.

"I know, love," Sirius says softly. Loyalty was James' fatal flaw, he won't let it be Harri's as well. "Suppose I ought to brush a bit on laws. There's a book somewhere in the library."

"Come on, Harri, let's get back to our lessons," Remus says.

"Oh, but I hate maths, Moony," she whines, slumping in her seat. He laughs, holding a hand out for her. She takes it limply.

"It'll be very important if you ever take arithmancy," Remus explains. "Come on."

The rest of the day is spent in the library, where Remus keeps Harri as occupied as he can. Sirius digs out the old volumes on wizarding laws, flipping through it as calmly as he can manage. It sort of reminds him of being in school again, cooped up in the library, cramming for exams that only Remus seemed to actually study for.

There are whole sections as to what the Wizengamot finds as permissible evidence, and Sirius balks to find legilimency completely impermissible. Apparently even the strongest legilimens is powerless a particularly good occlumens, which, admittedly Sirius is. It's one of the Black family talents he had instilled in his head from a very young age.

They take lunch in the library, but Kreacher absolutely refuses to serve dinner there as well. In the end, it's Harri that convinces them, begging off her pretend schoolwork. Sirius scrutinizes her carefully. She's looking a bit pale, actually, and a little thin, despite the way she eats her weight at almost every meal.

He realizes with a start that it's the house. The house will always be an awful, dark place no matter how much love he and Remus pour into it. Poor Harri hasn't seen actual sunshine in weeks now.

She doesn't ever complain, but Sirius can recall watching her sit as close to the windows as possible, pressing her tiny face against the warm panes to try and soak in the sun. He says a silent prayer—to whom, he has no idea—that if anything should come of this trial business, it should be Harri's freedom.

Sirius looks over the table to Remus, who's helping Harri cut up her meat. Remus deserves freedom too. He deserves to go out without watching over his shoulder, without worrying about him.

"Shall we try and look for that old chess set?" Sirius offers, plastering on a smile. He has to try, for them at least, to be optimistic. No sense in worrying them. "After dinner."

"I thought we already looked everywhere," Harri says, though she does brighten at the prospect of a game night.

"What's the harm in checking again," Sirius says brightly. "If we can't find it, then Harri, you can kick our sorry arses at gobstones." She laughs at that, a bright, happy sound that for a moment, presses back against the mounting dread.

"Deal!" she agrees, shoveling the rest of her food to finish faster. Predictably, they can't find the chess set—Sirius assumes it's in Reg's room, but he just hasn't had the heart to go in there. Gobstones is actually alright for once, even though he knows both Harri and Remus are letting him win. After a few rounds Remus cuts the game short.

"Alright," he says, wrinkling his nose at Sirius and Harri. "We're all due for baths."

Harri frowns reproachfully at the idea, but concedes, helping to pack away the game. The three of them troop upstairs, all finding different bathrooms to wash away the hardening puss from the game.

After, Sirius stops by Harri's room, where she's running a comb through her wet curls, dressed in an old sweater of Moony's. Sirius presses a kiss to the top of her head, helping her into bed. He draws the duvet up to her chin, smoothing back her hair.

"We'll be alright, Padfoot," she says sleepily. "Mum and Dad are looking after us, too." Sirius's throat closes a little, and he swallows hard to clear it.

"Yeah," he says softly. "We'll be alright." Harri drifts off to sleep, and for a while, Sirius just watches. When his anxiety won't wane, he shifts into Padfoot and settles at the foot of her bed, listening to the even rise and fall of her breath.

Remus doesn't get a wink of sleep all night, instead tossing and turning in bed. He finally pulls himself up and out when the sun rises, stumbling through getting ready. To his surprise, Sirius is already downstairs, nursing a cup of coffee.

"Alright?" he asks softly.

"Fine," Sirius says tightly. "I'll go get Harri up." As soon as he says it, they can hear little footsteps pattering around upstairs. Sirius sighs, gulping down the rest of his coffee.

"You ought to eat something, mate," Remus suggests gently. "Toast?"

Sirius shrugs, but takes some when Remus plates it for him. He pours himself a cup of tea—Merlin knows Kreacher won't do it for him—and joins him, waiting for Harri.

Breakfast is quick and nearly silent, as no one really has much to say. They load up and disapperate on the stoop, Harri on his back and Padfoot in his arms. It's not exactly an ideal situation, but it will do. Padfoot leaps down to change back, and Sirius runs a nervous hand through his hair.

The Hogshead is closed, but Aberforth ushers them in, scowling at the sight of them. At one of the furthest tables sits Dumbledore and a slight, thin man, presumably Geoffrey Abbott. He jumps up to stand, a nervous smile on his face.

"Geoffrey Abbott," he introduces himself, shaking everyone's hands, even Harri. "Er, about Ms. Potter…"

"We couldn't exactly find a sitter," Sirius remarks, a bit rude. Remus discreetly stamps on his foot to get him to behave. "Sorry."

"Quite alright," Abbott says, his smile going wry. "I've a daughter her age as well. I know that little girls like to stick close to their fathers." That earns a smile from both Harri and Sirius, who takes her hand.

"Right! First off, Mr. Black, I want to say that I believe in your innocence," Abbott says. "Good Gryffindor's who are training to be auror's do not up and join their enemies."

"Did, er, did you know me?" Sirius asks, sounding a bit nervous. Remus thinks hard, trying desperately to remember if he'd ever met Abbott before.

"Found you and your mates out of dorms at nearly one in the morning, armed with dungbombs my fifth year," Abbott says with a laugh. "It was the first time I'd ever assigned a detention."

Remus snorts, the memory hurrying back to him. Abbott had been nervous in his role of authority just as Remus had been nervous in his role of silvertongue. Dumbledore smiles, shaking his head.

"Geoffrey is a good man, Sirius," he says. "He's an exceptionally talented Legisparitus as well. In fact, I believe you'd said there was already a plan."

Abbott grimaces, and pulls out sever rolls of parchment from his bag.

"Right, Headmaster," he says. "Er, I've been reviewing the evidence and I believe I've got a plan, but I'm not very sure you're going to like the first part very much."

Neville Longbottom has had enough of his Gran's siblings' constant visits. None of them like him very much, and they always poke fun at his weight, his chubby cheeks, and his decided lack of magic. Gran doesn't even defend him.

Currently, he's pouting at the breakfast table, wrapped up in several towels and blankets while Gran fetches him tea to warn him up. Her brother Algie—Neville's least favorite uncle—had chucked him off Blackpool pier, yelling at Neville to save himself.

In the end, when it was apparent to them that Neville was indeed drowning, he'd been saved by a very disgruntled Gran.

"Can I have the crossword, Gran," he asks, sneaking one hand out of his veritable cocoon of blankets. Gran sighs but slides an ink pot and quill his way. She goes off to grab the paper. Tuesday editions are always great crossword, usually plant themed. Neville's been reading some very interesting books about plants recently.

Suddenly, Gran gasps, dropping Neville's tea.

"What?" he asks, suddenly frightened. "What happened, Gran?" She doesn't say anything but unfurls the front page of the paper out for him. Neville grimaces at the sight of that scary, old Black fellow. Above the picture of his screaming face reads the headline:

SIRIUS BLACK, NOTORIUS MURDERER AND KIDNAPPER, FINALLY APPREHENDED.

A/N: So yeah, things aren't looking too ideal, but don't worry, there is a plan! Let me know what you thought!