Chapter Three

He knew it hadn't been a dream because the first thing he felt was a warming sense of calm. He was wrapped up in it. He was floating on the calmest waters, heated by the afternoon sun. He never wanted to leave this space. The calm lapped around him, soothing the deepest parts of himself, parts he seemed to remember being worn and battered, bruised and sore. No, he would stay here forever, not moving for fear of disturbing the peace.

He also knew it hadn't been a dream because the lulling sense of safety was slowly fading, the sun was setting, and the towering waves of reality were crashing towards him. And just like that, the peace ended with softly spoken words.

'I've contacted Montgomery.'

'Head of the Department of Law Enforcement?'

'There's nothing he can do.' The tired voice of Fleamont Potter wrung though Sirius, the man might as well have been yelling instead of murmuring.

Keeping his eyes closed, Sirius heard Mrs Potter's scoff. Her voice sounded further away than her husband's, as if she were on the other side of the room. 'Ridiculous,' she muttered. 'Well there's no way they're going back there to those – those people!'

Sirius felt a sliver of warmth return at the caring in the woman's voice. It grew as Mr Potter's heartily agreed.

There was a moment's silence. Sirius was about to try surrendering to sleep once more until Fleamont's sombre voice cut through it.

'How's she doing?'

He had to fight the instinct to open his eyes and demand the question be answered immediately.

'I can't understand it. She is healing faster than anyone I've ever seen. I mean, I was expecting this cut on her arm to take days to heal!'

'What have you been using on it?'

'The salve you recommended,' Mrs Potter said. 'I know you designed it to be strong, but I used it on Sirius' leg and that's not healing nearly as quick as her wounds are.'

The fog in Sirius' mind was quickly retreating and he was certain he knew what salve they were talking about.

Mr Potter, although having long since stopped creating potions for mass production, still dabbled in creating new concoctions. The salve that Mrs Potter was, no doubt, using for their wounds was one he had made specially for Remus when they'd found out about the boy's affliction. Remus had been speechless when the Potter's had subtly handed it to him while talking to his parents on Platform 9¾ at the end of fifth year, explaining that it would help with any scratches he may find himself with after the 'bad nights'.

'So, what do you make of it?'

Sirius tried not to stir. At the mention of his leg, it had started to throb, as if demanding he remember what had happened the night before.

'I can't be sure,' Mrs Potter sighed. 'Perhaps the original wound wasn't as bad as we thought. The wound on Sirius' leg was caused by a slicing curse. Magic might not have caused the cut on her arm.' Her voice had dwindled into uncertainty, her words being carried on an undercurrent of frustration.

Good, Sirius thought, let them guess. In the past he'd considered confiding in the Potter's about a lot of things; his parents, his homelife. James and Sirius had even discussed whether they should tell them about Remus' condition, which, thankfully they'd figured out for themselves eventually. But when it came to Lyra, he'd kept his mouth shut. If he told them anything, they would no doubt feel obliged to tell Dumbledore and then Lyra would most likely kill her twin the first chance she got. Sirius supressed a shudder at that particularly unpleasant yet realistic image.

'Well, we know at least one of her wounds was caused by magic,' Mr Potter said, voice strained, as if he were talking through clenched teeth.

A tense silence bore its way into Sirius' gut, twisting it as his heart raced to life with pounding fury.

He's used Dark Magic on his own daughter!

Those words would stay with Sirius forever, forever stoking the promise he'd recently made to make his parents pay for what they'd done to her.

Mrs Potter hummed in agreement. 'Unfortunately, those wounds are being a great deal more stubborn.' There was a rustling sound which could have been the turning down of bedding. Sirius tried to picture what was happening, perhaps Mrs Potter had pulled down the blankets off Lyra to inspect her stomach. More than anything, he wanted to open his eyes and peak a look, but for some reason, he didn't want the fact that he was awake to be discovered just yet.

'Do you think we should get Eleonor to come have a look?'

Sirius quickly wracked his brain, trying to remember if James had ever talked about an Eleonor. Anxiety flared as he remembered that Eleonor Samson was a friend of the Potters, a Healer who worked in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's. For the second time since awaking, Sirius almost leapt from the bed in an outburst but was stopped before he could so much as move a muscle.

'No, I don't think that's necessary.'

He almost heaved an audible sigh at Mrs Potter's words.

'With the rate she's healing, I think it should be okay. I do think we should give her another blood replenishing potion however, and she'll need to take some potions and the salve with her back to Hogwarts.'

There was more rustling followed by soft footsteps, and then silence. Sirius stayed still, making sure that they had left the room before slowly opening his eyes.

From behind his closed lids, he'd detected the sunlight that streamed through the window behind him. He didn't know whether it was the morning or the afternoon, but he welcomed the sun's light all the same. Shifting his leg, he winced at the tight pull coming from the back of it.

Drawing in a deep breath, he turned his head to the side. Laying in the bed across from his, bandaged arms resting on top of a thick white blanket, long black hair pulled to one side, neck slightly red, was the one thing that made all this worth it.

Smiling sadly, Sirius spoke into the silence. 'Told you we'd get out of there eventually.' Because they were out. They had escaped and they'd never have to return. They were free.

They were free.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that. He might have fallen back asleep at one stage, finally managing to ignore the throbbing in his leg, and the twisting in his stomach. It might have been minutes or hours before Remus and James quietly entered the room, grinning immediately upon seeing Sirius awake.

With some effort, Sirius managed to pull himself further up the bed with some help from James. When he was settled, nodding his thanks, James perched at the end of the bed.

Remus, after his initial acknowledgement of Sirius, headed straight for the other side of the room. He sat at the end of Lyra's bed, taking inventory of her healing wounds and bruises. Just like the night before, Sirius was sure that Remus was oblivious to anything else.

That was until James heaved a sigh that ended with, 'What the hell happened, Padfoot?'

For the next twenty minutes, Sirius told them everything that had happened, from what had been said during the dinner with the Rosier's, to the fight he'd overhead between his parents, and finally to the attack that had caused them to flee. More than once, Sirius had to stop and let James vent his outrage with some rather colourful language which normally would have made Sirius smirk.

When he was finished, all three were silent, processing everything that had been said.

'She was trying to rile Lyra up with whatever she could.'

Having finally caught up, James shook his head. 'Yeah, by the sounds of it, she succeeded. What I want to know is how she knew about Remus.'

Sirius nodded. Apart from the professors, the Marauders, Lily, and Lyra, the only other person who knew that Remus was a werewolf was Snape, and he'd been sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore. Snape could have gone against Dumbledore's orders, but he'd been threatened with expulsion if he ever did. Snivellus was stupid, but surely, he wasn't that stupid.

'Perhaps the Rosier's have more friends within the Ministry than we thought,' Sirius said, gritting his teeth at the thought.

Remus sighed deeply, not looking away from Lyra. Sirius found himself focussed on the way Remus' hand had unconsciously moved to cover Lyra's.

At first, the thought of Lyra and Remus being together had Sirius ready to punch the werewolf repeatedly, and then curse whatever was left of him. Until last night, it was the most furious he could ever remember being. Surprisingly, it was James who eventually demanded that he see reason, that he calm down and think about it more before knocking Remus out. That had just made Sirius angry with James as well as Remus. It had also, with time, had the desired effect. And while he would always feel slightly uncomfortable about the situation, Sirius knew that they complimented each other, as sickening as he found it sometimes.

'Do you think the Ministry picked up on what happened?'

Sirius met James' eye. That question had been one of many repeating itself in the back of Sirius' mind ever since Lyra had lost control. He didn't know how she'd managed it, but no one had realised what had happened to them.

'The house is heavily protected, full of magical artefacts, not to mention it's unplottable, if they did detect something, they wouldn't be able to pin it to anyone or anything specific.' At least he hoped so anyway. By the silence that settled over the others, they were no doubt contemplating the same, all shuddering to think what would happen if the Ministry were to become involved.

From the open window behind him, Sirius heard children laughing. Soft, cheery music played away in the background, perhaps from a wireless somewhere down the street. What little stomach he had left doubled in weight.

'Some Christmas,' he mumbled.

James scoffed. 'Pfft, we can have Christmas any time. Besides,' he said, rubbing his neck and looking sheepish, 'now I have more time to get your present ready.'

Sirius didn't miss the wary look Remus shot across the room and found himself grinning. Whatever had Remus looking like that was sure to be good.

Another brief bout of silence fell over the room, each boy consumed in their own thoughts. After five minutes of this, James let out a long breath.

'Boy do we have a lot to fill Wormtail in on when we get back.'

ooOOoo

There were a great many things Sirius liked about the Potter house. First of all, it was bright, open, with windows in every room, a sprawling backyard complete with a small quidditch field. Mrs Potter always said that herbology was her favourite subject when she went to Hogwarts, and it showed. There were flowers in every room, some so fragrant that you could smell them from outside, some that would hum and whistle a melodic tune when you walked by and some that were luminescent, lighting parts of the house at night better than any candle could.

And then there was the Potters themselves. Mr and Mrs Potter, while much older than his own parents, were as bright as the house they lived in. Sirius could count on one hand the amount of times he'd seen them without a smile, even after receiving the worst reports from McGonagall about their antics at school. Their devotion to James was obvious. Sirius would never tell him this, but he'd always been rather envious of James for his relationship with his parents. They embarrassed him to no end, but at least what they felt for him had James going red from well-meaning mortification rather than anger, or injury.

Unfortunately, when Mr and Mrs Potter stepped into the room sometime later, they were more grim-faced than Sirius could ever remember seeing them.

James didn't need to be told that his parents would like to talk to Sirius without an audience. He and Remus gave Sirius a quick nod and a promise to return later before leaving the room. And suddenly, with just him and the Potters, Sirius felt very nervous.

'How are you feeling, Sirius?' Mrs Potter asked, in her usual sweet voice. Without waiting for an answer, she sat next to him on the edge of his bed and started her inspection.

'Uh, not bad,' Sirius said. 'Leg still twinges a bit.'

Mrs Potter nodded. 'May I?' She asked, pointing to his leg. Sirius nodded his permission and watched as she pulled back the covers and gently prompted him to bend his leg. He tried not to wince as he felt the tight skin stretch. It was the first proper look he'd had of the damage that had been done to him. The cut was still rather raw darkened around the edges, he could only imagine what it had looked like last night.

Mr Potter, still standing close to the door, watched as his wife applied the cold salve to the back of Sirius' leg. Sirius instantly felt the pressure of the tight skin around the wound give a little.

After another moment, when she was satisfied, Mrs Potter left Sirius and moved to sit next to Lyra. Sirius watched as she applied the salve to Lyra's left arm. He tried not to look like he'd noticed Mrs Potter's confused expression when she realised that the bruises on Lyra's neck had now completely disappeared. She'd moved onto uncovering Lyra's midsection when Mr Potter stepped further into the room, softly clearing his throat to get Sirius' attention.

He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, Sirius watched the lined face soften as Sirius met his eye.

'We're not going to ask you for an explanation, Sirius,' he started. 'We're not going to ask why you chose to wait this long. I hope you always knew that you could come to us for help.' It almost appeared as he was somewhat offended that Sirius had come to them as a seeming last resort. Mr Potter blinked the glint of hardness away and said, much more gently, 'I'm glad you came to us, we are.'

Sirius couldn't help but tense as he sensed a 'but' coming.

'However,' there it was, 'there are some questions we need to ask you.'

Whatever small part of Sirius that wanted to protest was quickly silenced at the stern look on the older wizard's face.

'How often did your parents use the torture curse on you?'

Sirius blinked. Whatever he'd been expecting, that had definitely not been it. Again, there was a small part of him that immediately wanted to scoff and say that such a thing happening was preposterous. If it had been anyone else asking the question, that's exactly what he would have done.

'How did you-?'

'We noticed that you were both severely dehydrated when you came to us last night,' Mrs Potter explained, not looking away from Lyra's wounds. 'A classic symptom of exposure to the Cruciatus.'

'Right,' Sirius muttered, trying not to squirm under Mr Potter's expectant gaze. 'They didn't use it often,' he said quickly. 'I mean, they'd normally have to be pretty pissed to go that far.' Realising what he'd said, he shot a sheepish look to Mr Potter, silently apologising for the language.

Mr Potter either didn't notice, or didn't care as he nodded slowly, no doubt filing away the information to work through later. 'And you have a younger brother if I remember correctly, yes?'

At this, Sirius tried his hardest to keep the scowl off his face. From Mr Potter's raised eyebrows, it was clear he'd failed in his attempt to do so.

'Is he safe to remain with your parents?'

'Perfectly safe,' Sirius ground out. Regulus, the perfect son. His parents would never make a move against him. And with the amount of concern that Regulus had shown the twins over the years, or the lack thereof, he wasn't exactly prepared to jump up in a flurry of worry for him.

He knew that Mr Potter wanted to ask him to elaborate, but sensing that he wouldn't get much more information, he loosed a breath and looked around the room.

Sirius had already taken inventory of the room earlier when he'd woken up. Someone had taken off his clothes and jacket and placed them on the armchair that sat directly under the window. Both Lyra and he currently wore a set of pale blue, cotton pyjamas.

'Did you bring anything else with you?' Mr Potter asked.

'I shrunk our trunks, they're in my jacket pocket.'

'What about Talons?'

'We decided to leave her at Hogwarts over Christmas,' Sirius said. 'She likes being around the other owls.'

Again, Mr Potter nodded.

'Well,' Mrs Potter said, screwing the lid back on the jar of salve and making her way back over to Sirius. 'You should be able to get up and start using that leg a bit more tomorrow.'

The most Sirius had been able to do since he woke up was to hobble to the bathroom, and even then, James had had to walk with him.

He looked across the room, almost too afraid to ask. Almost. 'How is she?'

Mrs Potter's smile faltered momentarily, recovering quickly. 'She sustained more wounds than you, but I'm confident that she'll be able to return to Hogwarts on the train with you and the others.' It was an annoyingly vague answer, but one Sirius could live with. 'She's a strong girl,' she said as a way of offering further reassurance.

Sirius scoffed internally. She had no idea.

ooOOoo

Something had woken him up, slowly, so slowly in fact that he could no longer tell if he was dreaming or not. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed that the tip of his wand was lit. He was sure he'd extinguished it with nox before he'd fallen asleep. But there it was, shining away on the table beside him.

He sat bolt upright when the light suddenly went out. Reaching for his wand, he was a fingernails length away from it when it burst into light again.

And then suddenly the window behind him slammed opened, then slammed shut with a BANG. The frame groaned and shook in an unheard howling wind as the light from the lamps around the room started to flicker violently.

Sirius leapt from his bed as Lyra's pained moans cut through the confusion. He threw himself down at her bedside, gripping her hands tightly. She'd started to toss, and with every shallow breath she drew, the lights flickered more violently, the rattling of the window becoming louder and louder.

'Lyra!' He called out to her. 'Lyra wake up!'

And then there was silence, and darkness, leaving them in nothing but cold moonlight. And in the moonlight, he could see Lyra's silver eyes staring up at him. He felt a pulse of panic when he noticed that the ring of silver that encased her irises, normally strangely bright and swirling, were now the dullest he'd ever seen them.

'Sirius?' She moaned, and just like that, her eyelids dropped. Sirius was afraid she'd passed out again until she shifted, opening her eyes, much more slowly this time. Her half-opened eyes flickered over the room that was bathed in blue moonlight, the space between her eyebrows pulling together as she did so. 'Where are we?' Her voice was so soft, so weak.

Sirius put a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to get her to stay still. 'We're at the Potters.'

She looked back to him, taking in his face with growing awareness. He held her wrist when it rose, her hands reaching for his face that he knew was still sporting a cut lip. 'Don't.'

'But you're hurt.'

'And so are you.'

At his words, Lyra sunk further into the bed. Sirius placed her hand gently next to her.

'Where does it hurt?'

Lyra groaned. 'My middle, it's killing me,' she muttered.

Sirius nodded, not expecting anything else. 'It's alright. Get some rest, we'll talk more later, okay?'

Lyra nodded, softly saying 'alright' and after a few moments she was still once more.

He couldn't help but loose a sigh of relief into the stillness.


And she's awake!

Thanks to everyone who's continuing to read this and to those who've followed/favourited and reviewed… This is a slow going story, but the pace will pick up eventually.