February 15 – 17, 1990

Callie woke up late. Sunlight streamed through her window; the sun was already high in the sky. She groaned slightly as she pushed herself out of bed. Her arms and legs ached from the strain of her previous assignment: combing every stupid inch of Hogwarts to find one of the last Horcruxes. It was discouraging work. The castle was enormous and there were countless places to hide a diadem. Not to mention the number of charms needed to reveal something that would be so carefully and magically concealed. And dodging students didn't make things any easier. She'd been at it for over a month with no luck. She'd still be at it if Dumbledore hadn't ordered her to go home the day before. She'd arrived at the poor Pettigrew's house late in the afternoon, and as both Peter and his mother were going out, she decided to visit James and Lily.

She pulled a shirt on over her nightdress and buttoned it half-way before ambling downstairs for breakfast. Harry passed her at the foot of the stairs, wishing her a hasty good morning. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen.

"Good morning, Callie," Lily said brightly. "Sleep well?"

"Very well, thanks." Mind still cloudy from sleep, Callie immediately poured herself a mug of strong, black tea, noticing nothing else until she'd half-emptied the cup.

It was then that she saw James and Sirius grinning at her from the kitchen table.

Suddenly very awake, her hand flew to the top half of her shirt and pulled it closed awkwardly. "Sirius," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Dropped by for breakfast," he answered casually. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore's orders. Shouldn't you be on a case?"

"We're experiencing a bit of a lull at the moment, actually. I haven't had anything for a couple days now."

Lily pushed a steaming plate of bacon and eggs into Callie's hands and gave her a gentle push toward the table. Callie slowly took a seat between Sirius and James. Lily tidied up quickly and poured herself another cup of tea as the owl post came in. She busied herself opening letters.

"The Auror Office must be overstaffed if they're not giving you anything," Callie said.

"We do have fresh blood," Sirius admitted. "Thankfully I've avoided an apprentice thus far."

A crash caused them all to immediately turn to Lily. She was pale as a sheet, a shattered glass littering the floor at her feet.

"Lily?" James asked, standing and rushing to her side. "What is it?"

She struggled to find words. "It's… Peter," she answered, voice shaking. "He's… he's dead."

The funeral was held two days later in the cemetery down the street from Lily and James' house. It was a small gathering. Peter didn't have many friends or family, it seemed. The scent of earth rose around the gathering. Horrible, stifling. Like death.

Lily and Mrs. Pettigrew alone shed tears during the burial. James was stony-faced, body tight as a cord. His jaw clenched, one arm firmly around his wife, the other hand around Harry's. Remus' eyes were downcast, fixed on the ground; his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. Sirius' eyes gleamed dangerously, mouth twitching as he continuously repressed a vicious, angry grimace. Marlene stood between Sirius and Lily, her eyes fixed on the box. Callie couldn't look any of them in the eye. She couldn't take her eyes off the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. Every drum as the shovelfuls of dirt landed on the wooden surface of the box echoed in her mind and drove into her heart.

After the burial, Mrs. Pettigrew went home, accompanied by an old friend. The others went to the Potter's house.

They toasted with mugs of butterbeer and tried to substitute laughter for tears. They dusted off old stories for retelling. They cracked jokes and misquoted their friend and tried to celebrate his life.

Clearly the shock hadn't worn off yet.

Callie stayed on the edge of the room and couldn't bring herself to join in. She was removed from the memories they shared by six years. She didn't remember those moments they had with Peter.

And they didn't remember hers, either. They didn't remember how Peter would sit with her on the couch under a blanket and make her hot chocolate when she couldn't fall asleep. They didn't remember the times he fell back from the group in his Sixth Year to help her through her First. They didn't remember how he felt like the Sorting Hat had made a mistake with him, too. They didn't remember the Peter Pettigrew she knew, with his kind eyes and his quiet courage.

Dumbledore came and gave his condolences. He said a few words about the great man Peter was, highlighting his bravery in taking on the role of the Potter's Secret Keeper. Which led into the predicament of finding a new one.

"I'll do it," Callie said at once.

Everyone looked at her in concern. It was the first time she'd spoken since they returned from the funeral.

"I'm not sure that's best, Callie," Dumbledore said gently. "You deal with Death Eaters on a daily basis. If something went wrong, it could be catastrophic."

She knew he was right, and she hated it. She stepped back again. Dumbledore continued. Sirius' eyes lingered on her for several moments after.

Remus was chosen as the new Secret Keeper as he was planning on going into hiding the next week anyway.

Callie sat in a corner of the room and ignored the procedure. A charm of that caliber was something she would usually find fascinating, but not now. She didn't care now. It was over in half an hour, and Dumbledore left immediately after.

The party slowly broke up. Sirius grabbed his coat and pulled it on. He walked over to Callie.

"Hey," he said gently. "What are your plans for tonight?"

Callie shook herself and glanced up, getting no farther than his chin, still avoiding his eyes. "I need to check on Mrs. Pettigrew," she said mechanically.

"Mrs. Pettigrew is staying with a friend," Sirius said. He regarded her for a moment, seeing the thinly veiled pain and sadness in her eyes.

"I should still check on her."

Her voice sounded dead, and it broke Sirius' heart. "And after that?"

She shrugged. "I'll go home."

Sirius flicked his wand and summoned her coat for her. "Come on; I'll walk you. You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Callie couldn't find it in herself to argue. She accepted her coat wordlessly, slipping it over her arms. She still felt cold.

They said goodbye to James, Lily, and Remus. Lily and James didn't want either of them to go, and Sirius knew it was because they were afraid for them. He promised them that everything would be okay and made Remus promise to stay. Callie and Sirius stepped out into the quickly darkening evening. It occurred to Sirius that he had no idea where she was staying. He asked, and she simply answered that she'd been staying at Hogwarts or with the Pettigrews,' depending on the evening. Sirius knew they couldn't go the Pettigrews', and Hogwarts would be miserable with all the students running around. He asked her if she was okay with staying with him for the night. She nodded very slightly, and wordlessly, but he took it to mean yes.

He took her hand and apparated to his own home; a little flat in a busy Muggle neighborhood on the tenth floor of a high-rise. He led her inside. It wasn't as crowded as the safe house. He pulled his coat off and tossed it over the back of a chair before heading for the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home," he called over his shoulder.

Callie looked around, curiosity seeping through her grief. She took her coat off and set it next to Sirius.' Moving pictures hung on the wall and sat on the end tables. Vague surprise trickled through her; she'd never taken him for the sentimental type. She examined each picture carefully. One in particular caught her attention.

A much younger Sirius, around sixteen or seventeen, with each arm around two people she saw often in own reflection. Her mother and father beamed and waved at whoever took the photo. They were saying something, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Before she knew it, the photograph was off the wall and in her hands.

"That's one of my favorites." Callie turned and saw Sirius walking in. A pot of tea, two mugs, two bottles of butterbeer, and two bottles of Firewhiskey glided through the air in front of him. He set them lightly on the coffee table and looked at the picture over her shoulder. "They were two of the best people I've ever met, your parents." He looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes as she stared into the faces of her mother and father. He wondered how much she remembered of them. She was only fourteen when they had died. It was selfish of him, but before now he'd never given much thought to the tragedy of that truth. "You must miss them terribly."

Callie nodded slowly. A tear splashed onto the glass between the frame, and she quickly wiped it off. She hung the frame back on the wall before turning. Her eyes found the assortment of drinks in front of the couch and she chuckled weakly.

"Overachiever much?"

Sirius shrugged. "I didn't know what you'd be in the mood for." He had his guess, though. Call it a hunch or paranoia, but he had a feeling she'd go for all the Firewhiskey he possessed. He picked up a bottle of butterbeer and poured it into a mug for himself. If they both got drunk, it would be a disaster. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. She wasn't thirsty, either, but the Firewhiskey did look good.

Sirius sat down in a chair facing the couch. He didn't want to get too close to her and scare her off. She was devastated (so was he), and what she needed was a friend. "I know you had a different relationship with Pete," he said. "I thought you might like to talk about him."

Callie hesitated. She picked up the bottle of Firewhiskey and uncorked it. It burned on the way down, and she welcomed the distraction. She sank onto the couch and pulled her feet up under her.

"Peter was a good friend," she stated. "He listened. He checked on me the most after my parents died. He always… made time for me. He was so kind…"

Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. She fought them back mercilessly, refusing to allow them to escape. She swallowed another mouthful of alcohol to distract herself. It was harder to keep it together with Sirius looking at her so intently.

She thought of Peter the last time she had seen him, Valentine's Day afternoon. He'd looked so excited and full of life. When he'd told her he was going out, she'd just let him.

"If I had just…" The words caught in her throat. Unbidden, tears escaped her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "If I had just been there…" She put her face in her hand and tried to stifle a sob. Her shoulders shook under the weight of her grief.

The fact that she blamed herself cut Sirius to his core. He moved over to her, kneeling in front of her between the couch and the coffee table. He took her arms to get her attention. "Callie, this was not your fault," he said in earnest. "Okay? Pete left hiding of his own free will. You can't bear the weight of that responsibility."

The tears rolled down her face, splashing into her lap. Sobs wracked her body. Some part of Sirius felt guilty for not feeling this much pain over Peter's death. Pete had been one of his oldest friends, after all, even if they weren't as close as he was to the others. He hated the part of him that was relieved it wasn't James, Remus, Lily, Harry, Minerva, or Callie in that coffin under the earth.

It would hit him later, he knew.

"He was going to see a Muggle girl," Callie explained between sobs. "They met a few years ago. She was all he talked about this past year. He wanted to see her on Valentine's Day. He told me he was going and I didn't stop him!"

Sirius' gut clenched. So that's why Peter hadn't just changed into a rat and run away. He'd been protecting whoever that girl was. He swore softly. "Merlin… I didn't realize…"

"She couldn't even come to the funeral," Callie sobbed. "She loved him and she couldn't even be there to say goodbye…"

Sirius had not been at all prepared for that news. Everything in his life seemed suddenly futile. Every reason he had for not doing the things he wanted crumbled like dust in the wind.

Callie wiped her face and took quivering breaths to calm herself. "Do you know who did it?" she choked.

Sirius cleared his throat to dislodge the lump in it. "No. We're still investigating."

She nodded briefly. "Was there anyone else with him when he…?"

He knew what she was really asking. "No," he said heavily. "They didn't kill the girl he was with."

She nodded again. Her body shook. Sirius glanced back at the picture they'd been looking at moments ago. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had been taken by illness. They were both gone so suddenly. It felt like half the people he'd met at Hogwarts were now six feet underground. Somehow the people he loved most had escaped destruction for the most part, but how long would that last? Everyone was only a heartbeat away from being taken from him forever.

"I-I should report to Dumbledore," Callie said quietly. She stood and pushed past him. "There're only two left. This can all be over."

Sirius stood quickly. "Don't." The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Don't go."

He had some respect for others. He wasn't about to make a proclamation of love while they mourned their dead friend. But he'd be damned if he let her go back out there tonight.

Callie finally raised her eyes and looked at him. She saw the fear, the grief. He wasn't trying to hide it anymore. Sirius Black was terrified. And somehow, it broke her heart more than it already was.

"Everyone dies sometime…"

Tears filled her eyes again, spilling down her face. She nodded once and tried to dry her face. Sirius closed the space between them. He cupped her face between his hands and wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. His own eyes stung and his vision blurred. He felt her hands press against his chest and grip his shirt.

She didn't want to go.

Sirius pressed a kiss to her forehead and slid his arms around her. He held her tightly, as if afraid she'd disappear. Her arms pressed between them, gripping his shirt with a desperate need to know he was alive. Callie didn't see the tears fall from his eyes, but she felt them splash against her shoulder. She fisted his shirt tighter and leaned into his embrace.

How long they stayed like that, neither of them knew. Their grief turned time unrecognizable. Eventually, Sirius moved her back to the couch. She reached for another bottle of Firewhiskey and he didn't stop her. Her eyes were red and tearstains marked her cheeks. He hated seeing her cry.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to be here?" she asked. "I'm not intruding?"

"Intruding? Not at all. If you weren't, I'd probably clean off all the Firewhiskey here in an attempt to drown my grief and guilt. It wouldn't work, of course. This is much cozier."

"Well, don't let me keep you from trying." She gave him a small, brave smile.

He returned it and shook his head. "Probably not a good idea for both of us to get drunk."

"Fair point." She raised the bottle to her lips and took a swig, wincing as the burning liquid went down her throat. "God, I hate this stuff."

"Have you ever had pizza?" Sirius asked suddenly.

Callie blinked. "No. What on earth is pizza?"

"It's a Muggle food. It's brilliant and they deliver it right to your door." He stood and picked up a rectangular box connected to the wall with a spiral cord. He pressed a series of buttons.

"What is that?" Callie asked curiously.

"Muggle telephone," Sirius answered.

Callie grinned. "Sirius Black knows how to work a Muggle telephone? Arthur Weasley would be so proud."

Sirius laughed. "You can thank Peter for that, actually." A voice on the other end picked up. He ordered one large pepperoni pizza and hung up without giving his address. Halfway back to his seat he remembered the mistake, cursed, and called them back. Callie watched him, amused. He resumed his seat and picked up a bottle of Butterbeer, poured it into a mug, and nursed it.

"What else did Peter teach you?" she asked. Her smile was gone now.

Sirius took a deep breath. "Well, how Muggle money works, for one. He also helped me pick out this apartment and got me acclimated to the Muggle world enough so I'm at least functional." He paused. "We were seventeen when I bought the place. Had to fake identities because in the Muggle world, seventeen-year-olds are still considered minors. Peter, Remus, and James all lived here for a while, until James got married and he bought a place for him and Lily. Remus and Peter stayed for a while. Until the war got really bad and Peter became Secret Keeper. Then he moved back with his Mum."

"What about Remus?"

"He comes 'round sometimes. He's got a key. But more often than not, he's our running errands for Dumbledore."

Callie nodded thoughtfully. She was quiet for a while, letting the silence between them stretch on. Her voice was small when she finally broke it. "Sirius, what do you want to do?"

Sirius recognized the very slight slur in her voice. The Firewhiskey was having its effect. "What do you mean?"

"What do you want out of life?"

Sirius raised a brow in surprise. "Honestly… I've not given it much thought before. What about you?"

She moved her bottle in a tight circle, the amber liquid sloshing inside. "I want a family. Like James and Lily have. I know it's silly, but I want to be in love without being afraid of the consequences. I want to win this damn war and enjoy the world that's left. I want to be safe and happy and loved."

Her answer came so naturally it took Sirius off guard. She had never struck him as the type to want to settle down so badly; Aurors rarely were. And she'd never mentioned anything about envying James' life before. Apparently they had that in common. Something inside him reacted to that, constricting his chest and filling it with warmth. "What else do you want?" he pressed gently.

She'd like to travel, she said. She'd like to see the world. Sirius felt the inexplicable urge to go with her right then and there. Take her hand and go away, far away. From Voldemort, from the war, from Horcruxes and Death Eaters and the Ministry. Find someplace quiet and remote, where no one would ever reach them, where life was calm and peaceful.

Strange. He'd never realized that he wanted that before.

They talked for hours. Sirius listened attentively while Callie talked and stayed with her during the long periods of silence. She told him of how desperately lonely her work was, how much she missed the camaraderie of the Auror Office and having someone watching her back. She told him of how afraid she was of dying alone, of taking her last breath without another soul there with her, and how close she'd come so many times. She told him of her scars, visible and invisible, and how she hated them even as she took pride in them. And she told him of how frustrated she was that she was stuck doing this job, how terribly much Dumbledore expected of her, how hopeless the task felt and how inadequate she felt to complete it.

She asked him questions, too, and he found himself telling her things. Personal things, intimate things. Things about his family, about Hogwarts, about his first months as an Auror, about his first days on the front lines of the war. About his guilt over every life he couldn't save. And she listened without judgment or interruption, with acceptance and understanding. It felt so intimate, listening to her bare her soul and sharing his in return.

When the clock struck two in the morning, Sirius could tell she was fading. She couldn't sleep on the couch; she'd wake up stiff. He stood and took her hand, guiding her to his bedroom. He handed her a spare shirt and shorts to sleep in and pointed to the bathroom. "You should change; you'll be more comfortable in these."

She agreed, nodding sleepily, and disappeared into the bathroom. Sirius stripped the bed down and changed the sheets while she changed. Something was wrong with him and he couldn't quite tell what. He felt different, alive in a way he'd never been before even as the weight of Peter's loss dragged him down. A sneaking suspicion crossed his mind and he brushed it away. He was stupid, but he wasn't that stupid.

Callie came out dressed in his clothes, shrunken a bit to fit her, and he was reminded starkly of her first visit to his hideout. Which reminded him of another visit under much different circumstances, involving too much of her blood and too little of his self-control. He cleared his throat and turned away, busying himself with changing the pillowcases. He tossed the pillows back onto the bed and took a step back.

"There you go," he said. "You can sleep here; I'll take the couch. I just need to grab a few things."

He turned to go. Her hand grabbed his and he froze.

"Please stay," she said, voice no more than a whisper. "I don't want to be alone."

That was all it took. Telling himself it was only because he was being kind, he nodded. They crawled into bed together. She moved very close to him, so close he could feel her warmth. He'd never seen her like this, so vulnerable. His arms wrapped around her slowly, drawing her closer. She was asleep in moments, pressed against his chest. He stayed awake, watching the gentle rising and falling of the blanket over top of her as she breathed. As he watched her sleep, the truth became unavoidable.

He was indeed that stupid. He loved her. More than that, he was in love with her. He had been for a long time; he just hadn't let himself admit it. It terrified him. It made him feel exposed and vulnerable, like he'd given the key to his destruction over into a fragile vessel. But it also excited him, lit a fire somewhere deep inside of him. The feeling was impossible to explain.

He held her tighter.

What had he done to deserve this? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He'd done nothing to earn her trust or her compassion or her friendship. He wasn't sure if he had her love or not, but he'd done nothing to deserve that, either. Plenty of families had died in each other's' arms in the war. Plenty of lovers had been separated by death. Hell, Peter had died just to see his beloved. What on earth had Sirius done right to escape the same fate long enough to have even one night like this?

It was selfish, but he indulged himself for a brief moment. He let his hand reach up to brush her hair away from her face. In the dark of the room, the natural auburn color looked burgundy. The back of his fingers grazed her cheek and lingered there, warm beneath his touch. She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Her body was still pressed against him when he woke. He felt her breathe, felt her warmth beneath his hands. The scent of her hair and perfume softened the edges of his thoughts. The diffused light of sunrise trickled through his window, casting the room in rosy shades of pink. Sirius looked down at her, brushing the hair from her face. Her eyes were closed, the muscles in her face relaxed. She looked so peaceful. He watched her as the light gradually turned from pink to gold and the first direct rays flooded the room. Her hair caught the light, casting a halo around her. Looking at her, Sirius knew that he'd never known what true beauty was until that moment. Magic had a new meaning for him now. What were spells and incantations compared to this?

He chuckled quietly to himself. Merlin, what had gotten into him? It wasn't like him to be such a sap.

It took another moment for him to remember why she was there. Peter. The blow of the reminder fell, sending a throb through his chest.

He needed to get up, but he knew it would be a long time before he got to hold her again. He may never get to hold her again. He gave himself a few more minutes, studying her features, committing her to memory. He'd give anything to wake up next to her like this every morning for the rest of his life.

James was going to kill him.