July 30, 1988

Following the death of the Claybournes, Callie and Sirius began working together in an official capacity. The image of her friend's body haunted her. Callie had always taken her work seriously, but now she poured herself into it. She took as little time-off as possible. She learned hand-to-hand combat and memorized lists of defensive and offensive spells. When she wasn't out on a case, she was pouring over old Wizarding Law books, practicing incantations, or sparring. She lived and breathed her work.

Mid-July, Callie and Sirius were asked to attend a Ministry function to celebrate the Auror Office and its accomplishments. Every Auror was to be in attendance, unless otherwise detained for official business. The event would celebrate, above all, the momentous victory achieved by Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt: the capture and subsequent imprisonment of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. All of the important figures of the Wizarding World would be there, including the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold. She was hosting the event at her mansion outside of London. Ambassadors from no less than ten countries would also be in attendance, including America, France, Germany, China, India, and Japan.

The politicians were dearly hoping for a rise in funding for the Magical Law Enforcement Department so they could all keep their jobs.

The night of the party came quickly. Callie had to hide a few bruises, but she managed to fit into her dress perfectly. She wasn't used to the wealth and glamor of this particular event, but Scrimgeour had insisted. A growing list of arrests meant growing recognition. She wasn't sure whether she thought the low-backed red evening gown was too much or too little. She twisted and fought with her hair until she was satisfied, and made sure to have a place to keep her wand on her person: a convenient strap around her right calf.

Callie showed her ID to the guard outside the gates and walked through after a quick check to be sure she wasn't carrying any cursed items. One guard waved his wand over her, casting a spell that would allow her to venture inside the magical barrier. She felt a penetrating cold just before she stepped through. A dementor floated fifty feet away, accompanied by an unfortunate handler.

Sirius met her by the entrance to the grand ballroom. She gave him a quick once-over before he saw her. His charcoal gray dress robes complemented his hair and eyes nicely. He'd made even more of an effort than usual, and she couldn't help but appreciate it. And neither, apparently, could practically any woman who saw him. She noticed several pairs of eyes glance at him admiringly as they passed.

He looked up and caught sight of her. His eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open.

Callie bit her lower lip. "Too much?"

Sirius shook himself. "No," he said. He smirked, but it lacked the usual air of unconcern. "I'm just worried these politicians will think we've snatched an angel from the heavens. Their wives might get jealous."

Callie laughed, her cheeks warm. "That's sweet, Sirius, but I think it's their husbands who'll get jealous." She nodded at a passing pair of couples, both wives eyeing Sirius almost hungrily.

Sirius' smirk widened. "I hadn't even noticed."

"Liar." She took the arm he offered. "You enjoy it."

"Hey, both of their husbands were looking at you, love." He grinned and led her into the enormous, richly-decorated room. She felt him lean closer as she gazed at the crystal chandeliers and heard him whisper, "Besides, if you think I look good, you can just say so."

Her face burned. She rolled her eyes. "Same goes for you, Mr. Black."

"Alright, Miss Potter," Sirius replied with a grin. "You look good."

Callie turned and smiled back. "So do you."

"I know."

Before she could respond, a loud voice called the assembly's attention to the middle of the room. Someone introduced the Minister of Magic. Bagnold made a short speech, praising the acts of the Auror Office and giving special attention to Moody and Shacklebolt. She went on to talk of the ongoing efforts to stop so-called "Lord" Voldemort and his forces. Surprisingly enough, most of the mentioned plans were very practical. She gave the floor to Scrimgeour, who had a few more words to say. He listed the crimes the Lestranges were convicted of individually, including the brutal torture of Alice and Frank Longbottom, for whom there was a moment of silence.

"I'm not saying I regret my cousin and her husband getting thrown in Azkaban," Sirius muttered, "but I would have liked a crack at her before they put her away."

Scrimgeour continued by listing the more famous Death Eaters and promising to have them all behind the walls of Azkaban in another year's time. Callie raised her eyebrows at that and commented that promises like that were what got the previous Head of Department kicked out.

After his speech, an orchestra struck up a song and most people filtered to the sides of the room. Callie and Sirius watched peacock-like couples parade across the dance floor, sporting wealth too affluent for a time of war. After a moment, Sirius turned to her. "You know why we're really here, don't you?"

Callie nodded. "Sweet-talk information out the politicians." She hated the idea. She was much more comfortable on the sides of the room than trying to weasel important thoughts out of people.

"You'll be fine," Sirius said. "Worst case, make something up."

A tall woman in a cobalt-blue dress appeared on Sirius' other side. "Sirius Black! It's wonderful to see you again! You probably don't recognize me; I'm Elaine Fawley, formerly Shafiq. We were in the same year at Hogwarts."

Callie could tell Sirius didn't remember. They did recognize the name, though; Pollux Fawley was one of the wealthiest men in Europe, and rumored to have a hand in nearly every department in the Ministry, including the infamous Department of Mysteries. So Sirius lied. "Of course! Elaine. Just as beautiful as I remember." He flashed her a charming smile. "Would your husband care too much if I had a dance?"

She laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder. "You always were a flirt! I'm sure he won't mind."

Sirius took her hand and shot a half-apologetic-half-exasperated look back at Callie as he walked Mrs. Fawley to the dance floor. Callie snatched a glass of champagne from a passing house-elf and scanned the room. Dignitaries mingled easily with each other, dancing and laughing as if they hadn't a care in the world. As if the world wasn't falling apart. It turned her stomach. A war going on and these people were trying to hide behind their wealth and status even as they attended a gathering designed to keep more people from dying.

It wasn't too long before the Ambassador from Russia asked Callie to dance. She accepted because it was her job. He was as tight-lipped as she expected; he barely said three words. After that, the Minster herself found her and paraded her around the room, introducing her to strategic people, many of whom went to school with her brother, or even her parents. The Minister had taken a liking to Callie, it seemed. She was quite invested in knowing exactly what she was up to.

The Minister left her eventually and Callie leaned against the wall. She took another glass of champagne and sipped it thoughtfully, watching the crowd and making note of which people gravitated toward each other. She caught sight of Sirius a few times, dancing with Marlene McKinnon. Marlene was in a stunning black gown and seemed much more comfortable at the event than Callie was.

"You're one of the newest Aurors, aren't you?" a voice asked, drawing her attention away from the dance floor. Callie turned to see a rather unimpressive man in a fine black suit, fiddling with a silly-looking lime green bowler hat. "Cornelius Fudge," he said, taking her hand in his sweaty one.

Callie nodded, hiding a grimace. "Yes, sir, I am."

"And your brother… James Potter was of marvelous courage… he defied He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named no less than three times, they say!"

Callie had heard that all evening, but even James himself would say he'd no idea which times they were talking about. "Well, I like to think we all are defying Voldemort every day," she replied. "That's why we're all here, isn't it?"

"Quite right, quite right. Would you care to dance?"

Forcing herself to smile, she nodded. He was a horrible dancer. She bit back a curse as he stepped on her toes.

"Sorry!" Fudge righted himself. "Young Sirius Black has taken you under his wing, hasn't he?"

Callie wondered why he'd engaged with her at all if he was just going to tell her things she already knew. "I'm not sure I'd call it that."

"Brilliant Auror. Shame about his family, though. Not a Black in the past fifty years who didn't support You-Know-Who."

"I think Sirius has more than proven himself," Callie replied coolly. "If we start judging people based on their heritage, we're just like Voldemort."

"True, true." Fudge glanced around. "Have you heard the rumor that the Potter family is descended from Gryffindor himself? If anyone is going to take down You-Know-Who, he'll come from that family, mark my words."

That was news to Callie. She'd never delved far into her family history, but she didn't want to discuss it with this man. It struck her mostly as flattery designed to get her talking, though. She opened her mouth to say that all that Hogwarts House prejudice was stupid.

A hand tapped on Fudge's shoulder. "Excuse me, mind if I cut in?"

Callie glanced up and saw Sirius. Always one to be counted on for a quick save. She let out a small sigh of relief and heard Fudge exclaim, "Ah, Black! Speak of the devil. We were just talking about you."

Sirius chuckled good-humoredly. "Good things, I hope."

"Oh, nothing but! You'll want to dance with your partner. Quite right, quite right." He blessedly stepped aside. "I'll be taking a tour of the Auror Office sometime in the following week."

Sirius stepped in front of him and took Callie's hand. "We look forward to having you." He smiled and led her away, letting several dancing couples between them.

Callie sighed and pulled her hand free. "Thanks for the save." She shivered. "All of this talk of bloodlines and speculating who'll take Voldemort down. I hate politicians."

Sirius chuckled. He took her hand again. She eyed him suspiciously. "Don't look at me like that. If we don't dance now, he'll be suspicious. We may hate politicians but they could have our jobs, after all."

She hesitated, but Sirius didn't give her much time to think. He settled his other hand on her back and moved in time to the music. Callie suddenly found herself hyperaware of his hand pressed against the skin on the small of her back. She almost wished she hadn't picked such a low-backed dress. Almost. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

Sirius moved so seamlessly that it felt more like gliding than dancing. Finding she couldn't bear silence on top of the uncomfortable way he was looking at her and the touch of his skin, she said, "I didn't know you could dance." Her voice sounded a little forced and breathless, and she prayed it was just her imagination.

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, I try to hide it. My mum made me take lessons when I was little, up through fourth year. I couldn't abide it. Who knew it'd come in handy?" He twirled her, catching her easily, and smiled. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Natural talent?"

"I don't believe that for a moment. You can't possibly be related to your brother; he trips over nothing. Are you sure you're not adopted?"

She chuckled. "I'm sure."

She felt more than heard the song change from a waltz to something much slower and softer. In response, Sirius pulled her closer. Callie was forced to rest her face near his shoulder to compensate. Her hand slid from the top of his shoulder to his shoulder blade. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, not unlike the familiar rush of adrenaline.

"You're shivering." Sirius' voice was a whisper, the space between them small enough for her to hear.

"I'm cold." It was a lie. She was burning up.

"You're tense, too." His hand caressed her back. "Relax. I know you court danger, Potter, but this is just a dance."

The music went on, barely audible to her. It was in her blood, all around her. She wished she could focus on something – anything – but him, but she couldn't.

"Callie?"

She gave a slightly forced hum in response.

She didn't find out what he was going to say. A roaring sound tore their attention to the far side of the room. The entire wall of windows shattered inward. Glass rained down on the crowd. Black smoke billowed into the ballroom, materializing into masked and hooded men. Sirius breathed a curse.

Callie yanked her dress up and struggled to unstrap her wand. She saw flashes of green sail into the crowd. A bright spell flew up into the ceiling and the enchanted candles guttered, plunging the room into darkness. The only light came from the spell flashing around the space. She felt Sirius leave her side. All around her was chaos. She stepped against the wall to avoid being trampled by screaming people, trying to give her eyes time to adjust to the lack of light. A spell flared nearby and she caught sight of Fudge zooming by her.

She tore her shoes off and tore a slit in her dress before charging into the fray. The room began taking shape through the darkness. She caught sight of Sirius already locked in combat. Opposite him, Moody and Wilde each took on two. She ducked to avoid a stray curse. The Minister of Magic threw off her guards and joined the battle herself.

A pale face caught her attention and she turned to face the shattered windows. Bare feet emerged from beneath a pitch black cloak, stepping over glass. Calm, red eyes scanned the chaos, satisfied with the carnage. A wasted, once-handsome face pulled back into something too evil to be called a smile.

Voldemort had arrived.