Chapter 16: The Article

"I have to go. Something's happened at The Daily Prophet."

Sirius looked up from where he and Harry were sitting at the long kitchen table in Grimmauld Place. Tonks looked annoyed at her unexpected summons.

"There's no one else who can handle a disgruntled reader?" asked Sirius.

"Apparently not. Kingsley's asked for me specifically."

"Joy."

Remus looked at his watch. "Isn't it rather early for someone to be storming their offices already?"

Tonks sighed and ran a hand through her now-blue hair. "Today's edition was delivered hours ago. That's more than enough time for someone to get mad about something ridiculous. I'll be home later, love," she said, kissing Remus gently before leaving the kitchen.

The tall werewolf moved around the table toward the sink. "Speaking of The Prophet, where's our copy?"

"Try near the window," said Sirius. "I hadn't gotten to it before Harry here was knocking on my door demanding breakfast at Borough Market."

Harry rolled his eyes and took another sip from his mug. "You ate more Chelsea buns than I did, Snuffles."

It had been nearly a month since Hermione had left. Four long weeks of Sirius living on tenterhooks, hoping that his two attempts at contact hadn't gone awry. The letters hadn't been sent back. That had to be a good sign, didn't it?

Maybe he'd been too forward with the last one. Maybe what he had written had been too much. But, since the honest romance of his first letter hadn't seemed to strike the right note, he thought he would try something more… full-on.

Maybe he was just a prat who had scared her off: a desperate, dirty old man obsessed with sex and smut and her young, lithe body.

He'd wanted to come off like Casanova, but maybe it had just been creepy.

Hermione's continuing silence also meant he had no way of knowing if she was aware of his new career at the Ministry. That had been taking up most of his time in the intervening weeks. He'd been a bit surprised at how much he had enjoyed his first session of the Wizengamot and the subsequent meetings with various individual committees. Not just the public attention – although that had been obviously rather fun, especially when he pictured the agony it would have caused his mother to see so many of members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight happily welcoming Sirius into their midst – but the fact that he finally felt like he was doing something. Something worthwhile, that would have real consequences for other people.

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had felt like that.

Waving a hand in front of his godfather's face, Harry tried to reel Sirius back in from his private thoughts. "Have you talked to her yet?"

"Hermione?"

"No. The name I gave you."

Sirius nodded slowly. "I have. I've gone twice. It's… well, to be honest, it's rather excruciating. And things have already gotten pretty dark."

"You knew they would," replied Harry. "Isn't that why you wanted to do it in the first place?"

"Yes, but I'd prefer it if it was all done in one go, yeah? I've been tortured. Many times. Volunteering for it is something I didn't think I'd ever do."

Harry shrugged. "Well, if you want my opinion—"

"That depends on what it is."

"—I think it's key. All your new titles and responsibilities might disappear someday or seem a bit superficial to Hermione."

Sirius snorted. "Don't let the Wizengamot members hear that. My ego has nothing on theirs."

"But doing this other kind of work – because you know it will really change you – that's everything, isn't it?"

"I hope so, Harry," he sighed. "We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

Remus cleared his throat loudly from his seat further down the table. "Pads."

Still looking at Harry, Sirius kept talking. "Fancy having a go on my new broom? A Firebolt Ultima… not many wizards have one."

"Don't rub it in," Harry groaned. "My dad really lost every bet against you?"

Grinning, Sirius leaned back, enjoying his victory yet again. "Practically. Prongs never knew when to quit. Betting against your mother, however, was a different beast entirely. 'Competitive' doesn't begin to cover how she went about things. Gods, she was absolutely terrifying. Am I right, Remus?"

"Sirius."

"None of us ever won a sickle from Lily, did we? That witch had secret powers."

"Sirius!"

Frowning, Sirius glared at his best friend. "What? What is it?"

"Look."

Remus slid the newspaper down the table to the other two wizards. Sirius glanced at the front page to find that he was looking at himself: a smirking, slightly laughing, well-dressed version of himself in a velvet pin-stripe jacket and an open-necked shirt, his hands bracing his hips in a way that drew the eye immediately to the tightness of his trousers.

He looked pretty good, all things considered. Then he looked up at the headline and felt his stomach drop.

"PLAYBOY PUREBLOOD ON THE PROWL! A Rita Skeeter Exclusive."

"Oh, fuck," he said. With Harry leaning over his shoulder, they both began to read.

Proud, handsome, and with a devil-may-care twinkle in his eye, Sirius Black recently stunned the Wizarding World when he assumed the ancestral seat of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black on the Wizengamot. In claiming his rightful place as the last living male heir of one of the most storied pureblood families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the notably unattached Lord Black quickly clarified his intentions to revolutionise the historic council. Surrounded by well-wishers offering their congratulations, he boldly announced his support for a variety of modern proposals and amendments aimed at overturning pureblood precedents in Magical Law.

"It's a disgusting travesty," says Lucius Malfoy, the former Death-Eater-turned-pureblood-rights-activist, "but one, unfortunately, that those of us who value our magical heritage have come to expect from this Ministry and its leaders. Black is a notorious ex-convict (Fully exonerated and pardoned by the Ministry ~ Ed.) with a violent temper and a sordid personal reputation. He is a dangerous menace. I, for one, believe he is thoroughly incapable of bringing the solemnity and judgement necessary for a seat on the Wizengamot. I am, however, apparently in the minority in this regard."

The reaction to Lord Black's presence at the Ministry has been nothing short of sensational, which is hardly surprising given his status as one of the most (in)famous wizards in our world. Rumours first spread about a potential new role for him after he was spotted emerging from the offices of the Minister for Magic. This was followed by his unforgettable visit to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he not only displayed his impressive physique and famous tattoos while hunting for a new dress shirt, but also loudly insisted that leather pants should be included in the officially-sanctioned garments for the Wizengamot.

Moreover, he appears to have the ear of Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt on a variety of new social initiatives, from free access to Wolfsbane Potion for the lycanthropic population to sponsoring magical participation in Muggle cultural events including next summer's musical festival near Glastonbury Tor.

Of greatest interest to our readers, however, is Sirius Black's status as one of, if not the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding World today. Witch Weekly would do well simply to hand over this year's Most Charming Smile Award to him – and other prize they can devise for a wizard of his renowned sensuality and prowess – since there cannot be any other competition if Sirius Black is in the running.

Cruelly locked away from the rest of magical society at the prime of life and living a desperate existence in hiding after his fabled escape from Azkaban, only to then be trapped in a hellish nightmare inside the Department of Mysteries for the past five years, Lord Black now appears to be making good on his former reputation as the greatest heartbreaker in Hogwarts' history. This reporter can attest to his powerful allure as a rampant young Gryffindor – a capacity for romance and raw sexuality that seems only to have increased with age.

"He is devastatingly attractive," says Professor Aurora Sinistra. "He always has been. He lives up to every legend there is about him. Calling him 'great' is just the beginning." The ever-beautiful Professor of Astronomy at Hogwarts seemed quite overcome when describing Black's roguish behaviour and animal magnetism. "We all want a bit of naughtiness in our lives, don't we? Sirius is a sexy bad boy who also happens to be a very good man. Any witch should thank her lucky stars to be near him, let alone know him in a more… intimate capacity." Professor Sinistra stopped short of explaining just how naughty she knew him to be, despite the two having been seen deep in conversation numerous times at the Three Broomsticks in recent weeks. If the rumours are true, Lord Black clearly has exquisite taste to match his well-known amatory appetites.

Understandably unmarried before now due to his lengthy incarceration and life as an outlaw, it would be something of a surprise if Sirius Black remains unattached romantically much longer. A lover of witches of his calibre certainly doesn't need to sleep in an empty bed.

Since his mysterious return from the Veil earlier this year, he has been living privately in his family's London manor with his cousin, Auror Nymphadora Tonks, the werewolf Remus Lupin, and Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Some astute readers may find the latter something of a surprise given that witch's well-publicised one-time love affair with Black's own godson, Harry Potter. With such a trail of famous ex-lovers and a clear ambitious streak that has gone unchecked over the years, the feminine third of the Golden Trio undoubtedly will make numerous attempts to ensnare Lord Black, if she has not tried already.

However, we have it on the best authority that Miss Granger is not involved in any of Sirius Black's more 'adult' activities. This once-maligned and now much-admired wizard is currently single, effortlessly charming, and very much on the prowl.

It will be the happy duty of this paper to keep our readers abreast of any new romantic entanglements that develop for this singular gentleman. We can only hope that the Wizengamot's newest and most swoon-worthy Lord soon finds a Lady befitting him and his House.

There was no sound in the room as Sirius finished the article. "Circe wept. Where does that woman get off?"

"Well, that was… a bit much," said Harry. "I really don't know what to say."

Sirius raised his chin towards Remus. "Fancy being the new Lady of House Black, Moony? Get your name in soon, because Rita Skeeter's just made it open season on my love life."

Rolling his eyes, Remus then asked pointedly: "Why would she write something like this?"

"Because the witch is desperate for a good headline and doesn't care who she throws under a Thestral to get one. I honestly can't tell if she thinks I'm a slag or a saint. 'Life as an outlaw.' Good gods. Who am I supposed to be? Robin-fucking-Hood?"

Harry smirked. "If she ever writes a bodice-ripper, I think she'll want you on the cover."

Sirius ran his finger back over the article's lengthy column, picking out choice phrases and growling at each one. "Just listen to this rubbish! 'Swoon-worthy'… 'roguish'… 'amatory appetites'… 'rampant young Gryffindor.' Was I rampant back then?"

"You were randy," Remus clarified. "Is there a difference?"

"Says the sodding werewolf at the table. Let's not start on your sexual capacities, shall we?"

Remus merely raised an eyebrow and then switched topics. "I suppose this means you didn't leave things in such a good place with Aurora, did you? She was Rita's main source."

Sirius gave a hard stare off at a corner of the room and then winced visibly. "Oh, Merlin. No. No, no. Oh, I really buggered that one up, didn't I? Gods!"

"Care to explain?" asked Harry.

"Not yet," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need to confirm a few things first. But I have a feeling I might know what prompted this. Bloody hell."

Harry then turned the front page so that he could look at it square on. "Where's that picture from?"

"Well, I certainly didn't pose for Skeeter!" pointed out Sirius. "No, that's… that's from the damn photo shoot Kingsley arranged for me at the Ministry Library last week. Remember, Ginny was just out of my sight-line, making me laugh?"

Harry's mouth pulled over sharply. "Making you flirt, more like it. Look." He pointed at the looped image of Sirius flashing his eyes and giving The Prophet's readers a series of sexy smirks and poses.

"Shit," cursed Sirius. "We were teasing each other to drive you batty. You were there! It wasn't flirty at all!"

Harry clapped a hand on his godfather's shoulder, still watching the smaller Sirius seduce the camera. "I know that. Ginny knows that. But that is not what it looks like."

Covering his eyes, Sirius dropped his head. "This is a nightmare. I didn't agree to any of this! Kingsley promised! My article was supposed to be an interview with Elphias Doge, for Circe's sake! How did Rita Skeeter suddenly get the job instead of that old coot?"

Harry snorted. "My. The Daily Prophet did something unethical. How will we ever recover?"

"The sarcasm is beautifully timed, Harry, but not exactly helpful, hmm?"

Remus frowned from his seat further down the table. "It's more than that. Skeeter's being rather cavalier, don't you think? Bandying Hermione's name about like that when they've already had a few run-ins. It's hardly wise."

Sirius paled immediately and braced his hands on the table. "Fucking furies. Hermione. Do you think she's seen it?" he asked, quickly looking at Remus.

The werewolf shrugged. "She gets her owl post, doesn't she? I don't see why this would be any different."

Closing his eyes, Sirius stayed in his braced position, radiating tension. "Hecate's teeth. She's going to… she'll think… oh, Merlin. This can't – this can't be happening!"

This time when he looked at Remus, he could barely contain himself. "Moony, where is she?"

Remus blenched. "Hermione? I don't know."

"Where is she?"

"I can't tell you. I can't, Padfoot! Dora didn't tell me. She wouldn't – not knowing how you and I are."

Sirius quickly turned the other way. "Harry?"

His godson shook his head. "I haven't heard from her either," he said sadly.

Rubbing his hands through his hair and down his face, Sirius gave in to his temper. "No, no, no, no, no! Not now! Not… fuck!"

With one great shove, he pushed away from the table and began to pace up and down the length of the kitchen, muttering to himself, while the other two men watched, trying to fathom just how badly things now stood. Neither of them had any idea of what to say as he moved back and forth.

"Padfoot," cautioned Remus. "Please."

"What, Moony?" he snarled. "What can you possibly say that will make this less of a fucking disaster?"

Remus' mouth fell open. "Well—"

"You see?" raged Sirius, his loud voice rolling over any of Remus' thoughts. "I've lost her. This is it. She'll read this and think that I agreed to that kind of drivel being written about me. That I've been playing her all along. Or worse yet, that I've moved on to someone else. It's what she thought would happen."

"Don't you trust her at all?" asked Harry in a soft voice.

"You don't understand!" shouted Sirius. "You didn't see her that last morning! The way she just accepted that I would never change, despite my pleading just the opposite. The way the light went out of her eyes when she thought I was finished with her. She just… gave up. And now this. It's ruined everything!"

"You don't know that yet," countered Remus.

"It's been ages," continued Sirius, ignoring the interjection. "I still haven't heard from her. She won't answer my letters. Does she even know how much I've been trying? Has she seen the news about the Ministry job or the Wizengamot? She certainly doesn't know about Katie."

Remus shot Harry a look. "Katie?" he mouthed silently.

Harry shook his head, clearly not wanting to interrupt Sirius mid-rant.

"What do I do now? What the hell do I do now?" he shouted.

"You have to trust her, Pads," Remus said in a low voice. "If she feels about you the way you obviously feel about her, then you have to give her the benefit of the doubt. Trust that she'll see through Skeeter's personal jabs and sycophancy, just like we have. Don't you believe in her at all?"

"I believe in her with everything I am, Remus," said Sirius, his body sagging suddenly against the sink. "But I also know how hard it was for her to believe in me."

"Give it time."

"Well, I'll have to, won't I? There's fuck-all else to do if I don't know where she is." Sighing, Sirius covered his face once more.

With his eyes shut, he didn't see the large wolfish creature suddenly enter the room. Harry jumped back while Remus' eyes sharpened, recognising the glimmering version of himself in his mate's Patronus.

Tonks' echoing voice filled the room. "I'm at The Daily Prophet. Hermione went to see Rita Skeeter. I'll tell you more when I get back – it shouldn't be too long. Make sure Sirius stays where he is until you've seen me."

The Patronus disappeared in a flash of light. Silent, all three men looked at each other.

"I think you have your answer, Sirius," surmised Harry with a growing smile. "Hermione saw the article, and she obviously felt something about it. Merlin, I wish I'd been able to see her take on Skeeter."

Sirius' wand was in his hand for a tenth of a second before Remus expelliarmus-ed it away, grabbing the band of wood as it hurtled through the air.

"Moony!" Sirius protested. "My wand! Now!"

"No," replied the werewolf. "You heard Dora. You are not to leave. If Hermione went to see Rita Skeeter, and if she's still there, then the last thing she needs is you thundering in, trying to save her from a situation she clearly already has in hand. Stay. Sit."

"If you tell me to 'heel', I'll bite you in the arse," muttered Sirius darkly. With jerky movements, he pulled out a chair and sat down, his face a mass of emotions. "Fine. We'll just wait then, shall we?"

"Dora won't be long," said Remus patiently.

She wasn't.

Colin had asked for a very early start, with which Hermione had been happy to comply. He had decided that the morning light was essential to capture for her portrait and that it could not be replicated by any means other than a sitting at his studio well before most people had started their breakfast.

After a good hour of standing on the dais without a stitch on, Colin had called time for Hermione and then revealed a magical stash of coffee and croissants. Delighted, she had rifled through her bag to find the letter from the sorceress in Torquay that had arrived the day before. Grabbing a mug, she breathed in the earthy scent of a fresh, milky coffee and took a bite of croissant while perusing the letter once more.

"I think we can start spreading the word about the show," Colin said, sipping from his own cup. "We'll be ready. More than, if I'm honest."

"That's wonderful, Colin."

He chuckled at her bland response. "Something else on your mind?"

"There's a part here in this letter that I really wanted to you to hear," she said, wiping away a few crumbs from the corners of her mouth. Colin began going through his own owl post, still listening to her summary of the sorceress' note.

"Corrine – that's her name, it turns out – anyway, she thinks that the timing of when Sirius reappeared might be very important, particularly if it was close to Ostara, which it was. He did return just around the Spring Equinox. A time of new beginnings, fresh starts, regeneration. It makes total sense!"

"Um, Hermione?"

Oblivious to Colin's tone, she kept going, her words gaining speed as her excitement rose about the long-delayed communication from Torquay.

"What's really wonderful is that Corrine thinks she might have even more possibilities for us to explore in terms of spell replication, but she wrote here that the timing needs to be a bit closer to Yule." Hermione bit her lip. "That will be after show's premiere. I sent her a fast reply last night, saying that it might be easier to find us here at the studio in the next few days then rather than sending any post to me alone. Was that all right? Is having the research and the premiere in the same month too much for you? Ron and Harry weren't always the best at multi-tasking, but I know I shouldn't presume that all wizards are like them. And, to be fair, they have gotten much better lately."

Colin's voice was insistent. "Hermione!"

Pulled out of her reverie, she smiled at the warlock artist in a puzzled way. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Have you seen today's paper?"

She scrunched up her nose. "What? No, I haven't. Really, Colin, I'm trying to tell you about this letter from Corrine."

"That can wait," he said, holding out the morning edition of The Daily Prophet. "Have you seen this?"

"Wha—"

Hermione's voice broke off as she saw a black-and-white image of Sirius moving on the newspaper's front page.

With a mix of urgency and wariness, she took the pages of newsprint that Colin was offering to her. "Is he okay? Has anything happened?"

"You could say that," said Colin, the archness in his tone hard to ignore.

"Do I want to know?" she asked softly.

Colin shrugged. "I only skimmed the headline."

Hermione read out the bold all-caps newsprint in a flat voice: "PUREBLOOD PLAYBOY ON THE PROWL! A Rita Skeeter Exclusive."

Pursing her lips, Hermione said nothing else for several minutes until she had read every line in the article – many of them twice. He watched her hands slowly tighten on the thin newsprint until her knuckles turned white.

Colin made a tentative gesture in her direction once he knew that she had finished it. "Well? How bad?" Hearing no reply, he asked more forcefully: "Hermione? Are you all right?"

Her nostrils flared. "I'm fine."

"Then look at me," said Colin, trying to catch her eye. "This has all been about Sirius, hasn't it? From the first."

She nodded once, her eyes narrowing as she stared down at Skeeter's sentences. "I can't believe it."

"Maybe you shouldn't," he said hastily. "Believe it, I mean. Look, I've seen you with Sirius. I've seen Sirius with you. I could tell in those first few minutes of being with both of you that there was something there. Something real. He is Him, isn't he?" he asked, harkening back to her secret declaration at their first sitting.

"Of course, he is." Her voice was both resigned and sharp. "It's always been Sirius. From the very first. From before I even knew it could be him."

Unable to completely understand her last comment, Colin paused, perplexed, and then pressed forward. "Then why are you choosing to believe Skeeter's clap-trap?"

Her eyebrows came together. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you believe anything that woman would write, when you know him better?"

Hermione shook her head, wishing that Colin could be right. "Because I know her source. And so does Sirius."

The crestfallen look stayed on her face for several moments. Slowly, however, it was replaced by something different. Something harder, while her gaze focused on a point in the far corner of the room.

Colin took a step back.

"Hermione? What's going on?"

"I know her source," she said again. "I know what happened with that source – and what didn't happen. And I know Skeeter. I know her very well. And she should have known better..."

Abruptly breaking off, she quickly began to gather her things. "Colin, we're done for today, yes? Is that all right? Because there's somewhere else I have to be. Right now."

Taking her hand, Colin looked deeply into Hermione's eyes as she fidgeted with the silk tie of her dressing gown. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "You need to see Sirius. You need to talk to him."

Meeting his gaze, she replied, "I need to talk to someone else first." She squeezed his fingers and then let go of his hand.

Once she was back from changing into her street clothes, Colin tried once more.

"Do you even know what you're going to do?"

Hermione's eyes were chilling when she glanced back at him. "Oh, yes," she said.

"You're a bit scary," he admitted.

"I've been told that before."

Still not happy about her sudden mood change, Colin called out to her as she walked out the door. "Be careful!"

"Thanks," she answered, giving him a last smile, "but I'm not the one you should be worried about."