Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 7

Return

January 1998

Daphne spun her way through the noiseless blanketed forest of ice. The winter sun, a trickster with its promising rays of warmth, was worthless in the snow-covered hills beyond Potter Manor and was starting to set. Her footprints from yesterday were leading the way, and her breath appeared in sharp clouds of steam as she got closer to the thermal spring.

Even without the telling signs of nature, like the knotted tree or the frosted holly bush, she knew her way. Daphne attributed this sense of belonging amidst the forest to her Greek mythological namesake. Though the similarity to the tale ended there, for no enamored Apollo chased after her, and she was free.

Shame, the reality of her own life was remarkably more tragic than that of the nymph. Sirius Black, her betrothed, had been gone for seven years now and it was unknown to Daphne whether he was still with the bastards below or among the gods above. The Potter patriarch insisted he was fine, but his lack of substantial evidence left her questioning if indeed he knew anything of Sirius's whereabouts.

In the beginning, Sirius's absence had seemed momentary and a thing of familiarity as they had only met twice in two years. Daphne's devotion to him had been so remarkably influential in its innocence back then that no one could touch the pedestal she had placed him on. Notably, though, her mind had had the newness of Hogwarts to scrutinize and a House of snakes to conquer as a distraction from any thoughts of homesickness or dog stars.

As time stretched on, however, and Daphne grew, her childish perception of Sirius shifted. No longer was he just her selfless hero, but the acclaimed, dedicated man who, one day, was to be her husband. With the transition, a deep-rooted yearning had sparked within her heart seemingly overnight. Boys morphed into utterly ridiculous toys, and flirtatious Muggle-borns, clueless of their customs, were laughed at and brutally ignored. At a precarious fifteen, Daphne had fancied herself in love with Sirius Black.

Regretfully, her whimsical made-up fantasies faltered to a halt when she came of age and gained the title of Lady Greengrass rather than of Lady Black. Daphne's once idyllic love had transformed into volatile uncertainty with the blowing out of birthday candles on her seventeenth. Was her faith in him and over his return unjustified? Had the hours spent musing over their future been a waste? Did her unflinching loyalty belong to a dead man?

A powerful wintry gust swept Daphne's loose curls and ruffled the fur of her heavy cloak. Shivers went down her spine causing her purposeful steps to quicken.

With the passing of a fallen branch, the picturesque trees began to clear, and the air turned dense with vapor from the hot spring. It was a sight to see. The milky water reflected the indigo and burnt orange streaks of color in the sky above.

Daphne dropped her winter cloak and pulled off her heeled boots, not minding when the icy gravel beneath her bare feet burnt like fire. Her pale thighs erupted in goosebumps, and her silk camise turned into a sheet of ice.

Dipping her toes into the spring sent ripples across the shallow expanse, and that was the moment she spotted something in the water. Her brows furrowed as she leaned forward to catch a better glimpse at the swirling red specks and jolted when she realized what they were.

With a flick of her wand, her cloak flew on, and her boots rightened themselves and welcomed her blue-tinged feet with a cozy warming charm.

Her attention tilted up to the flying Aurors overhead and a sonorous incantation amplified her voice, "Excuse me! Whatever is it you're doing?"

There was a yell, an urgent motion to her general direction and suddenly five men, dressed impeccably in scarlet lower-level Auror uniforms, were swooping down on their broomsticks.

"Lady Greengrass!" The Auror unit had doubled after the department's first mass recruitment in seven years, and Daphne was unfamiliar with the newest members.

Instantly, she was on edge, "Has something happened?"

A skinny, sharp-nosed man spoke up, confusion evident on his sunken face, "No, Miss. We were ordered to find you on account that you had - lost your way."

Daphne's sculpted brow rose, incredulous, and she folded her arms, "Well as you can see, gentlemen, I am not in any form of distress, and my wand is right here." She held the laurel wood in the air for the dutiful lackeys to notice. Being more than miffed at the mindless interruption made her following words haughty, "Now which fool rallied up the troop to come searching for me on New Year's Day? Was it James?"

"Not Potter, Miss." The youngest lad interrupted with a squeak, and the group exchanged hesitant glances amongst themselves.

Sharp nose cleared his throat and bobbed around her at a speakable distance, "M'lady, we received our orders from the Head Auror."

Daphne's ears buzzed and she swallowed promptly. Even with James and Frank standing in, the Auror Department firmly addressed the 'Head' title only to their true leader. She must have misheard, "Who?"

"Sirius Black, Miss. If he has not joined the search party, Black might still be at the edge of Potter forest -" It was enough. Her heart skipped a treacherous beat, and Daphne shifted on the spot.

She apparated silently next to a towering pine from where Potter Manor appeared in its splendid entirety.

In the field of snow before her, thirty or so statuesque Aurors stood near two arguing men. The picture, so like the night of the murder, ignited such a strong sense of deja vu for Daphne that she almost lost her footing. Though, it was nothing compared to seeing Sirius again.

She discouraged herself repeatedly while standing there in the blistering cold, but the details were too precise for Daphne to consider that she was imagining the whole scene in her head. This time, Sirius sensed her presence first. When she saw his head tilt, an alert gesture she knew had carried over from his canine counterpart, her breath caught.

No, she wasn't dreaming it; this was very real. Sirius Black was not dead, and he was striding purposefully towards her, crushing thick ice-covered snow in his wake. Daphne, on the other hand, was not as prepared to see him as he appeared inclined to see her, so she stood motionlessly, face void of emotion.

It gave her ample opportunity to study him without being conspicuous. He was unchanged in appearance, and exceptionally more handsome than Daphne had remembered him to be. His grey eyes were captivating, and his hair fell charmingly past his ears, softening his distinctive aristocratic features. She took in his somewhat crinkled ebony Head Auror's uniform with tarnished gold buttons and thought of what wonders a few skilled charms would do to the worn coat. She knew of those charms; she could be of help.

Sirius halted in his steps an arms reach away, and that was when Daphne noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes giving away his tiredness. Ever so abruptly, she felt utterly stupid for forgetting the circumstances that had separated them for so long. She questioned what traumas he could've endured, what horrors he might've witnessed throughout his seven-year-long mission. Had he been in constant danger this entire time?

Daphne's tears came quickly. "You're alive." She sniffed pitifully, and by emotional habit, fiddled with her engagement ring, "You came back. You kept my promise."

Sirius frowned in sympathy, "Of course, Daphne." His palms turned out, "Of course, I did." He regarded her as a frightened animal, thoughtfully and with no hidden motive other than concern, "Come here, darling."

Daphne launched herself into his waiting arms and Sirius enveloped her in a tender embrace like it was the most natural thing to do.

"Is it over?" She asked, her voice a throaty whisper in his ear.

Sirius sighed into her hair, "Yes, I'm here to stay."

Daphne pulled away first, wanting to see him and suddenly embarrassed over her behavior. She reached up to wipe her tears, but Sirius beat her to it. He cupped her face and ran his thumbs over her cheeks to rid them of the wetness.

Daphne's gaze fixated on the dragon hide boots he wore as she tried to slow the beating of her heart. He was not playing fair; he was unaware of how much he meant to her.

Her hand covered his, and her eyes narrowed as a form of protection, "I am no longer a child, you are not required to dry my tears." She was unsure of his intentions, of his thoughts, mainly because she was alarmed at the level of pleasure she had received from his compassionate gesture.

Instantly, his touch was gone, yet the intimate space between them remained.

Sirius straightened his posture while his brow rose and thoughtfulness marred his expression. "No, you are no longer a child. You are a beautiful young woman that is most deserving of respect. Forgive me, but I find it difficult seeing you cry knowing that I am the one responsible."

No pureblood wizard had ever apologized for their far from exemplary behavior before, and Sirius had only rid her of tears. She was being silly.

Daphne's cheeks lit with color, betraying her. "Your words are charming, Sirius, but completely unnecessary." She gave him a timid smile, "You see, I am unused to such 'gestures." From you.

Daphne willed herself to hold eye contact and to remain composed. Affection was not something she had much experience with. Her outspoken refusal and disinterest to become romantically or physically involved with someone other than her betrothed had never deterred.

Though Daphne was not a shy bird, and if her memory served correctly, she had never been in Sirius's presence. "I am not, however, opposed to them. So if you wish to wipe my tears in the future, you may." She mentally applauded herself when her cheeks did not burn like some sensitive schoolgirl's.

Sirius chuckled charmingly and held out his arm for her to take. The sun had set, and the temperature was dropping lower than any warming charms could actively protect against. "I wish never to see you cry again, but it seems that every time we're together, you're destined to shed a tear or two." He gave her a wink, "Must be because of my blinding glory."

Daphne's brow rose, yet she still took his offered arm as they trekked through the impossible snow.

Was this the flirtatious trickster she was dealing with now? His ego was considerably larger than Lily, and Professor Lupin had led her on to believe. Daphne, although hesitant to reflect over and compare Sirius's behavior to her already vast knowledge of him, could not help herself. After all, it was not of her wicked scheming but of time's, that the snippets regarding Sirius's past had plucked themselves from the memories of those he loved and became weaved into such a rich tale over the years.

"Your blinding glory? Don't make me laugh. Who gathered up the entire Auror unit to hunt me down? On New Year's Day no less?" She unabashedly smirked when he cleared his throat and patted her wrist.

"No one knew where you were when I arrived. Then Daisy remembered you came in yesterday covered in pine needles, and I went berserk." He ruffled his hair and cast a cautious glance towards the Manor, "Actually might've scared a few people. - Are you aware of how cold it is?"

"Cold enough for you to forget that I am a witch, so it seems. Please do not fret; I was casting warming charms every few minutes." Daphne's grip on his arm tightened as they climbed the slippery stone steps. The frosted french doors leading inside eased open, and a comfortable warmth welcomed them back. Daphne rested her hand on the frigid gold epaulet of his uniform as she went on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, "But I thank you for your concern."

"Certainly, my dear." He took her hand in his own, "Now, I apologize, but I must go debrief Fudge and announce to the press that I've returned. I'm afraid I'm in for a very long night." He gave her a tight, remorse filled smile, "May I see you again tomorrow morning?"

It did not escape Daphne's attention that Sirius had informed her of his return before the Minister of Magic. Daphne squeezed his hand, "You may see me only after you've had a good rest."

Sirius's unrelenting devotion to his work was commendable, and his achievements most certainly proved that his hard work was paying off. But Daphne could not help wonder what exactly he was trying to achieve by torturing himself so. The Minister was an understanding clown that could wait until morning. While the press - well, they were like nifflers, round-the-clock scavengers looking for gossip as if it were gold.

Sirius's face brightened as though she had said something more marvelous than what she considered to have been an innocent rebuke. "You're an absolute angel."

He was incorrect in his assumption. If it had been anyone else deprived of precious sleep, she wouldn't have troubled herself over their wellbeing. Daphne followed her delicate hand in his worn one while he rose it to his lips. "I am no such thing," She yanked him to her; he stumbled a step, the poor man, and looked defenseless when they stood but a breath away. Daphne wrapped both her hands around his, "Why did you send the Aurors after me?"

It took a split second for Sirius to reply, "The unit is ready at my beck and call. I thought you were in trouble and knew it was within my ability to find you."

Daphne twisted her words, "So you wanted the recognition that -"

"Please don't think I am some shallow -"

Daphne's heart dropped in guilt, "Of course not! You're the most honorable man I know!" She distanced herself away from him quickly before she could say anything she would regret later on. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I worried for you - greatly." Her brows furrowed in pain as she pleaded with him, "I thought you were dead. I mourned you."

An unsteady inhale calmed her building emotion enough that she could meet his rapt gaze, "So, forgive me if it is wrong to care for you and to believe that you are deserving of a good nights rest. I am not an angel; I'm just your betrothed."

Sirius broke their eye contact by glancing suspiciously at one of the shut doors in the hallway from which light was streaming out from. He wandlessly muttered a silencing spell before he sighed deeply and the edge of his lips drew up, "No privacy."

"Never." Daphne narrowed her eyes at the door, easily picturing Harry and Draco leaning side by side listening and retaining her words to use as blackmail later.

Sirius cleared his throat, "You should know that James sent me yearly updates of how you were getting on."

Daphne cringed in pity at his confession, "I can only imagine how tedious -"

Sirius interrupted her; an almost growl of disagreement rumbling from deep within his chest, "I asked him to, and those letters were the highlight of my year."

"You must be lying then." Daphne shook her head with a self-deprecating giggle, but the sound was practically wrenched from her and replaced by a string of coughs when she was summoned magically to his side. Her eyes widened comically at his execution of power.

"I could make something up to let you win, but it would be the greatest lie I've ever told." Sirius took her hands, and Daphne was already too overwhelmed to place much importance over his fond hold.

His grey eyes pierced her with their affectionate determination, "You have been honest with me, and I appreciate it. So I am returning the favor because I am your betrothed." He repeated her earlier use of the term. "I thought of you too, Daphne. Understood?"

Daphne inwardly blushed at the meaning behind his words and smiled prettily, "Yes. - Thank you, Sirius."

Sirius pecked her on the cheek, "Glad I can still put your mind at ease." He straightened and looked down warmly at her, "I did promise the Minister I'd speak with him tonight, but perhaps -"

"Oh, hush now." Daphne waved his indecision away, unwilling to come between him and his responsibilities so early into their - relationship. "I know how you value keeping promises, you chivalrous fool, so I won't hold you any longer."

Sirius returned her radiant expression, the tiredness in his eyes disappearing with wonder, "It's difficult for me to accept this isn't only a dream. - That I'm honestly here after so long."

Daphne's heart tugged, and without debating her actions, she grasped his left hand and held it to her cheek. "I can assure you that I am very real." Her lips pressed against his palm, "Welcome home, Sirius."

"I must say it's good to be back, Daphne." Sirius cupped her cheek tenderly and kissed her hair. "I'll see you tomorrow, my darling." And with that endearment out in the open, Sirius was gone.

Daphne stood staring at the spot he had silently disapparated from when a thunderous bang announced the impatience of two certain snakes. She jumped, and her annoyance sparked like a poorly cast incendio.

The shock of Sirius's return had not ceased in sending shivers down her spine, and she was left reeling after the exchange. Daphne would have favored being alone while her heart gained a steady rhythm once more and the rose-tinted glasses she suddenly wore did not distort the view she had over the world.

Smirking, Draco leaned on the nearest wall, his platinum hair glowing in the brightly lit passing way, "Look at you, all rosy cheeked and starry-eyed. Heard you two already squabbling like a married couple. Did you make up like one as well?"

"He is my godfather, Draco. I don't need that image in my head." Harry scowled at his best mate before he focused intently on Daphne. "So, where was he? Mum and dad still won't come clean."

"Sorry, Harry, but he didn't say, and I didn't ask." Daphne studied a vase of wilting roses on the table next to her to ignore their judgmental stares. She tried a wandless reviving spell: the green stems stayed bent, and the petals remained brown.

Taking out her wand, she vanished the flowers altogether and cleared her throat, "Sirius just got back, why would I make him recount his mission to me when he's indebted to tell everyone else?" Daphne's tone was of a gentle firmness. From personal experience, she understood how difficult it was to speak of a traumatic event. "I'm sure you'll be able to read about it in the papers tomorrow anyways."

Her heeled boots clicked on the maple wood floor as she walked away from them. "If anyone asks for me, please tell them I don't wish to be bothered tonight."

Draco rolled his eyes, but a small doubt of worry sent him striding after her, "Did Black say something?"

Daphne halted at his anxious tone and smiled gently, "No, he was a perfect gentleman. I simply need a moment to collect myself." Her happiness broke through the mask she had created to prevent anyone from belittling her feelings. "Oh, Draco don't you get it? Everything's going to be alright now."

Draco frowned deeply and gripped her by the elbow while he grumbled frustratingly close to her ear, "Be realistic, Daphne. It's been seven years. He's not the same man he once was."

It was what she had been afraid of: her deserving, lighthearted mood being shattered to pieces. Daphne removed his tight hold and hissed, "Don't you dare ruin this moment for me. Whoever Sirius is now; I'll stand by him."

oOo

Somewhere in a vast, darkened Manor, the twelfth chime of a clock ceased echoing. There was a dismaying harrumph from the end of the dining table, "Midnight, already?" Cornelius Fudge glanced impassively to his wife.

Eleanor Fudge wrapped her wrinkled fingers around her wine goblet and raised it to her lips, choosing to remain silent. She could hardly stand to see the sight of the man before her, let alone hear his grating voice. It was sad, really - their marriage had not always been like this, loveless and empty. In their youth, they had been inseparable, crazy for one another. But alas, at the turning of a milestone age, Cornelius had envisioned himself to be a leader, and all other thoughts had fallen beyond his line of sight. Eleanor had become invisible to him, and he to her.

Cornelius cleared his throat once more, "Sirius Black has returned. It's why I was late coming home."

Eleanor's interest peaked ever so slightly; it was more information about his whereabouts than Cornelius had provided her with in ages. Her jade eyes peered past the empty expanse of the table, "Where was he this whole time?"

Cornelius's straightened his shoulders, hiding his surprise at her voluntary exchange, "In the land of carnivals and cannolis, my dear. Venice." Seeing as Eleanor's attention was still undividedly focused on him, he continued, "Years ago, Black recognized a trail of witches and wizards disappearing around Europe and turning up as statues in Italy. Remind you of anything?"

Eleanor wrung her hands, "But Cornelius, The Masked Demons fable is only that, a silly story told to scare children from venturing into the muggle world at night."

"The people were left alive, Eleanor. Their souls and magical cores were ripped from their bodies before being turned into stone puppets. Unable to move or to think they suffered the ultimate death." Cornelius shuddered. "Black discovered the inner circle and over the past seven years has captured every one of those murderers."

"Salazar have mercy," Eleanor gasped as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Has the Wizengamot awarded this man an Order of Merlin?"

"We have - First Class." Eleanor's thin lips pulled up marginally, and she reached for her wine.

Cornelius eyed his wife, and after a quiet minute he spoke, "The Ministerial elections are this year, and I would like you to know that I have chosen to retire from office."

Eleanor's heart gave a beat, but she did not show it. Pitty, if the arrogant man thought his years of neglect would righten with an insufficient declaration and no apology. "Who will you put forth as a successor in the running?" Rufus, their nephew, was the obvious choice. After all, with no children, Rufus was the closest thing to a son they had. It was unfortunate, however, that the boy had the brains of a slug and was as stubborn as a mule.

"Sirius Black," Cornelius announced with a proud drive which was unlike his typical childish insensitivity.

"Do you think that is wise?" Eleanor hummed as her goblet magically filled with more burgundy liquid.

Her question did not deter Cornelius, "I do. Lord Black is a skilled wizard, a driven man and the Wizarding World worships the ground he walks on. Think of the recognition I shall receive for establishing him as the next Minister for Magic." His eyes gleamed at the idea for a moment before they narrowed, "Why would it be a mistake?"

Eleanor glimpsed at her husband, "It will undoubtedly take a while for him to adjust back into the community -"

"Even better, he will further require my assistance."

"Do be reasonable, husband. Lord Black may desire a break after such an achievement. Not to -"

He interrupted her again with a chortle, "Sirius is a man of action. A Gryffindor! He won't want -"

"Think of his bride, you narrow-minded fool!"

The insult passed over his head, and Cornelius startled, "Miss Greengrass? Why she is only -"

Her correction was a sharp-bladed knife, "The witch turned of age early last year."

Eleanor had met Daphne Greengrass at one of Lady Malfoy's soirees during the summertime. The young woman was rare in her sweet candor while retaining an enviable allure of elegance and dignity. Eleanor liked her, especially since she had recognized a long-forgotten maternal inclination behind Daphne's exchange amid the children present.

"What does Greengrass have to do with Lord Black becoming Minister for Magic?" Cornelius asked, unbeknown to him that his phrase had secondhandedly explained their failed marriage. It was also the last straw needed to feed Eleanor's fiery hatred.

"Perhaps he cares for her enough to keep from making such a stupid - stupid mistake." Eleanor rose from the table, "Do whatever you want, Cornelius. I've long stopped caring for you."

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think.