Important Note; I strongly suggest reading His Two Paths first.

A/N: Basically, just ignore any mistakes you see. This chapter was hard to write, what with a little writer's block emerging, but I think I've tackled it okay. Oh, and I also edited Chapter One quite a bit, the beginning mainly; so read it back if you want. Anyway, I'm blabbing.

Happy Belated Diwali, by the way.

xoxo

6. Trelawney's Dagger

Azkaban had always been incredibly frightening, from its first appearance in 1028. Even the name was enough to send shivers racking through the bodies of anyone who even so much as heard the name. Azkaban was that frightening.

But now it was worse, thanks to the Death Eaters, who had recently taken up residence there. They were worse than the Dementors, if possible; just as dangerous, just as cold and chilling. Bellatrix revelled in it. Besides, she, and the others, had worked hard on Azkaban.

For example, the ridiculous number of prisoners they had first encountered when Azkaban was taken over had been in dire need of sorting out.

Prisoners such as the vast number of Death Eaters who had been captured from before Voldemort took over the Ministry: but there were other prisoners too, who now wanted to join forces with the Dark Lord; anything they could do to get out of their small dingy cell. Bellatrix found it piteous, but useful nonetheless.

On the topic of hard work and Death Eaters doing anything they could to please their Dark Lord, Bellatrix thought about the labs built to house the experiments carried out on the Mudbloods.

Labs.

Experiments.

Madison Jeffrey was a demanding little witch. And Bellatrix didn't like her one bit. The other Death Eater was stealing all the Dark Lord's attention; just because she could make a few potions and cast a few spells on the prisoner Mudbloods.

In fact, Bellatrix was on her way right now to get a male Mudblood, only in his mid-twenties, for the Dark Lord. They were going to experiment. Apparently, Madison and her team had made a breakthrough with the experimentation. And this time, Lord Voldemort was going to be there to watch himself.

Bellatrix lifted her head haughtily, glaring at the Death Eaters cowering away from her as she passed them. Then she hissed at the two Dementors and they began to lead her past the cells and to one of the last ones.

A young man, maybe a little older than her cousin Sirius, and not bad looking at all, was huddled in the corner of the cell. He was shivering, clothing ripped and drenched in blood. His wounds were the mark of Crouch Jr.

Sadistic bastard.

But she still cared for him a great deal. More than money and her family name? No. But more than Lestrange? Yes.

Bellatrix waved her wand and the cell door was thrown open, sending a gust of wind at her. The Dementors, at her nod, purged forward and seized the young man by his arms. He looked up, alarmed. But when he saw Bellatrix, he started muttering hysterically; 'No, please, no, no ... please, I'm begging you—'

She silenced him with 'Crucio,' and he cried out softly; he would have cried louder but he had no energy, his body was shutting down.

'Shut up.' Bellatrix said coldly.

And before she knew it, the young man was cursing her; spitting insults and profanities at her. Bellatrix reached over and slapped him hard, his light brown hair whipping forward and veiling his face.

'Shut up,' she breathed. 'Or I'll torture you.'

He seemed to be weighing his options. Then he sagged, his body, his mind just giving up. The Dementors were forceful, and the Death Eaters lining the cells were aggressive, sending him kicks and punches as he was dragged past.

It felt like he'd been walking forever, and Romeo was so tired. He hadn't eaten anything in a while, he barely ever got any sleep (thanks to that bastard Barty Crouch Junior) and of course, the Dementors were getting to him.

They were shadows; always there, always at hand to make him feel worse. Romeo was forgetting what happiness felt like. He'd been in Azkaban too long. But at least his first few months, he'd been helping to build an extension to the prison. It was tiring and at the time seemed never-ending, but it proved a worthy distraction.

Only now, he didn't have anything to distract him. Maybe the young Barty, who he vaguely remembered from his time at Hogwarts. Only, Barty distracted Romeo from being in Azkaban, not from being in pain. And Romeo was always in pain.

Bellatrix, when they reached the highest floor of the prison, threw open the doors; shiny, clean and very tall. The first thing Romeo noticed was the brightness of the room, a stark contrast to the rest of the dirty, dreary grey prison. It was a large room, with many "healers" holding clipboards and looking all professional and daunting and cold.

There were a few chairs; stiff and frigid and so uninviting. 'Get the Dark Lord.' Bellatrix snapped to her husband, who was in the process of chatting to another Death Eater.

After a while, her husband answered reluctantly, 'The Dark Lord is busy interrogating the captured ones from Wales.' Rodolphus was just as cold to his wife as she was to him. It really was a loveless marriage. Even the sex was loveless; almost mechanical and very rare. Bellatrix could actually count the number of times they'd had sex.

That was why she was having a steamy affair with Barty Crouch Jr. Well, it was supposed to be an affair. But Bellatrix could tell many people already suspected or knew outright about her and Barty. She didn't mind much though. It wasn't like Rodolphus hadn't cheated on her before. Three months into their marriage she'd found out he was having sex with other women.

Nonetheless, the marriage was a convenience; for the both of them.

'Alright then,' Bellatrix said loftily. She turned to the Dementors. 'Put him there.' The attractive woman said sharply, pointing at the space not far from where she stood, on the floor.

Romeo was thrown down, and he whimpered, something clicking in his leg that was definitely not supposed to click. He was there for a while, as Death Eaters came in and out; spoke and laughed; cursed him and hexed him.

He could tell they were bored, waiting for their Great and Dark Lord. He was anything but great. In fact, Romeo found him pathetic. Clever, yes. But wise? Not at all.

And being clever and wise were two totally different things.

A Clashing noise interrupted Romeo's thoughts. The door at the other end of the enormous room was thrown open. In came three Death Eaters, all standing proud and tall. But who wouldn't be proud standing beside the Dark Lord.

He was a towering figure; commanding and imposing. But he was awfully frightening. His face was different; eyes permanent rubies, skin a dreary whitish grey, and no hair now. He had no hair now.

He was smiling. Lord Voldemort stepped forward, a vile smile flickering on his face. 'Romeo...?'

'Kelley.' He panted, looking up to meet those furious deep red eyes.

'Kelley.' Voldemort tested. 'I don't recognise the name.' He drawled, eyes darting to every person in the room before once again settling back on Romeo Kelley. He looked like a hungry predator, hunting and stalking and waiting.

'I'm Muggleborn—'

'Crucio!' his voice was sudden, sharp and loud. It was pure agony.

White was all Romeo could see.

Pure, unadulterated agony. He opened his mouth and let out a cry, eyes rolling back into their sockets and tongue lolling out of his mouth. Romeo heard more people talk but he couldn't pay attention, not even when the spell was lifted.

Agony.

'Would you like to try again, Mr Kelley?' the Dark Lord teased, revelling in the laughs echoing around him.

'I'm,' Romeo wheezed, 'a Mudblood.' He had to give them what they wanted. Maybe then the pain would stop. The pain that was so much worse than any other he'd ever felt.

'Good boy. Now come. I mustn't waste time. And we really don't have much time left.' And with that, Voldemort conjured some binds and tied Romeo up. He was too weak to protest. All he could hear, see and feel was the torture.

Such torture.

xo

Remus had not always been a shy boy. When he was a toddler, before he was bitten, he had been the most mischievous little boy; stealing cookies and chocolate, running off when it was bath time, and making fart noises whenever his parents sat down.

Then Greyback found him.

And it was like his personality, his real personality left. Hid from him. Almost like a volcano, usually explosive and passionate, suddenly becoming dormant. Sleeping.

Soon, Remus became a shy, quiet boy. But inside him lurked the prankster, the joker, the mischievous boy waiting patiently for the time to come when he could rise. Several years later however, Remus became eleven, and left for Hogwarts, where he met three boys; three boys who brought out the real Remus. They taught him how to have fun again, how to be wild and naughty once more...

But now, he wasn't the shy boy, nor was he the naughty marauding one. Now, he was the ferocious one, the wolf, he was Moony. He had to be Moony. Because he wouldn't get out alive if he was anyone else.

Lily was beside him, and Remus wouldn't have her anywhere else. He promised James. And he would keep his promise. 'REGERO!' he bellowed, aiming at the enormous Death Eater.

But his spell was thrown aside. He was weakening. He hadn't slept in over thirty hours; he hadn't eaten in almost as long, his injuries from the full moon still hadn't been healed...

And as toned and fit as Remus was, he just couldn't cope with it. He was going to shut down. Whether it was in two hours, or two minutes, his body was pleading for him to stop. Which was why Remus tried that much harder to win. To end the fight, to end the pain and strain he was putting his body through. 'Episkey!' would only work once or twice on him.

'DOLORIO!' the Death Eater cried, before ducking a curse sent his way. Remus cried in pain when a rogue spark from the curse hit him. It felt like hot knives were stabbing up and down his arm, and for a moment he was so absorbed in the pain, he couldn't focus on the duel he was in.

But Lily threw herself in front of him, her wand slicing through the air; power and sparks of electricity raining from it. 'PROLABOR MAXIMA!'

And her spell hit. The Death Eater's body shuddered for a moment before he fell, writhing on the floor. It was like being struck by a Muggle Taser. Only it hurt so much more; and it lasted so much longer. The spell was, of course, illegal. Except for use during Ministry Approved Official Duelling Tournaments. And though this wasn't quite official or Ministry Approved, it was a duelling tournament alright.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' Remus heard someone bellowing in the distance.

But Expecto Patronum didn't work against people; it wasn't used against humans ... it was used against something much worse.

Dementors had come.

'We need to get out,' Remus whispered into Lily's ear, grabbing her forcefully by the elbow.

She nodded and swallowed. 'We need ... we n-need to find Peter...'

Remus was about to respond, but was cut off. The warmth was sucked from the room. The shadows were approaching. And the room they were fighting in felt like it was getting smaller. Someone, something was coming, drawing nearer, looming...

Darkness.

It was all coming. Coming for them? Coming after them. It didn't matter. They were going to lose. That was until the shadows threw back their hoods and started drinking.

They were thirsty. Voldemort had made them ever so thirsty.

xo

Sirius leaned forward and kissed the corner of her pretty pink mouth. 'Mind letting us in, babe?'

Sirius and James didn't even wait, instead kindly pushing past her and closing the front door when she stood frozen for at least half a minute. She wasn't even moving.

'Emanuelle?' James asked uncertainly, and when she turned around to whisper his name, he started laughing; elated. 'I haven't seen you in so long!' he sung, stepping forward to hug her tightly, even lifting her off the ground for a very brief moment.

'W-what are you doing here?' she murmured.

Her hair was thick, black and long; bunched around her gorgeous face. Emanuelle's large dark green eyes were red with fatigue, and without even so much as a word, she hurried out of the small hallway, leaving them perplexed.

'Well,' James huffed. 'I expected a bit more enthusiasm.' His arms dropped.

Sirius couldn't help but smile. Emanuelle had brought the house straight after graduation, and though they had still corresponded with her through letters, they didn't have time to visit her as much as they would have liked too; what with the Order and personal issues, and she in turn didn't have much time to visit them. But what did they expect?

James led the way to the living room. It was cosy, small and very neat. There were pictures up of her pretty Mother and her model Father, or rather, her retired model Father.

James flopped down on the sofa, groaning. 'Do you think...?'

'Lily's fine, Prongs,' Sirius said softly, sitting opposite his friend on the loveseat. He sighed. 'She'll be fine, she has Remus with her.'

And surprisingly, James calmed down quite a bit. 'Harry would be fine too, right?'

Sirius nodded. 'Rose would risk her life trying to get Harry safely there. And my Mother may be many things, many many things, but she would never turn out the heir to the House of Black.'

When they heard the clinking of bottles, the men looked up to see Emanuelle with three bottles of firewhiskey. She threw one to James who deftly caught it, and then handed one to Sirius.

He couldn't help but watch her; anyone would. Emanuelle was extremely beautiful, even Sirius's Mother hadn't been able to deny it. And who would've thought? Walburga Black complimenting a half-blood?

Emanuelle was still half asleep too! Her hair resembled James's, and she was dressed in a pair of tight tiny shorts and a baggy Muggle band top.

'You look bloody gorgeous at this untimely hour, Emanuelle, wouldn't you say Pads?'

Sirius's eyes ran over her body again, and paused when they reached her chest. 'Definitely.' His voice was husky and deep as his eyes flickered up to wink at her mischievously.

'Though I would've appreciated a bit more of a greeting,' he admitted, running a hand through his jaw length hair.

'Agreed. We could have been dead for all you coulda known.' James told them, shaking his head mockingly.

'I'm sorry,' Emanuelle said, her slight Italian accent coming out. She stretched the limbs of her body and made her way over to James, kissing him softly on the head. 'I'm so glad you're safe.'

Then she turned to Sirius, and they grinned at each other. 'Miss Danté.' He said.

'Mr Black.' Emanuelle replied, before she let out a stifled sob and leapt at him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek and his hair. '– I was so scared ... –thought you were dead ...' she was repeating.

Then she hugged him tightly once again before leaning back to look him straight in the eye. 'What happened?' she asked in a slightly more composed voice.

'Where do I even begin?' Sirius replied just as softly. He kept him arms draped loosely around her, keeping her body close to his. He remembered the enormous crush he'd had on her during some of his time at Hogwarts.

'Why are you here?'

'We ran.' James was different now; more serious, a lot more alert...

'Outnumbered?' she guessed, her intelligence kicking in.

'There were so many,' the bespectacled Marauder answered. 'And we had to fight our way out. I needed to get Padfoot out of there; they can't know he's alive, they just can't.'

Emanuelle looked back down at Sirius, shifting on his lap. 'How ... how did you survive?' she asked him carefully. 'How have you made them think you're dead?'

Sirius couldn't tell her the details; who knew what would happen to her. 'The spell wasn't strong enough—' if James was about to interrupt, he didn't, 'it could have killed me. But it didn't.'

'A-and Rose? Lily?' she waited for a bit, chewing on her lip before letting out in a quiet whisper, 'Remus?'

'Lily's back with Remus,' James sad softly, 'they're fighting right now probably ... Lily could be injured, she could be dying, she could be dead...' he cleared his throat and looked away, staring wistfully into the air, eyes behind specs watering.

'Remus,' the Italian woman repeated quietly, 'I haven't seen him in so long. I haven't seen Rosie in so long!' she sounded very angry at this part.

'She's alright,' Sirius said, more for himself than for the pretty woman sitting half on his lap. 'I know she can do this.'

'Do what?' Emanuelle asked.

The long-haired man laughed and pinched her cheek. 'She's taken our son and Pronglet off to my Mother's to be safe. They should be there now...'

'You're son,' Emanuelle tried, smiling at him with watery eyes. 'I still haven't met him. I bet he's as beautiful now as he was in those photographs leaked to the Daily Prophet...'

Sirius and James grinned at her. 'He's already a little player,' the bespectacled one answered, 'I saw him sticking his hand down Lily's top. I didn't know whether to be angry or amused. I settled for something half way between.'

And for the first time since they'd gotten there, Emanuelle started laughing. She clapped her hands together, muttered fluidly in Italian for a short moment, and then beamed at them again. 'I need to meet this SJ boy everyone's been talking about...'

'Actually,' Sirius interrupted, 'you haven't seen Harry in quite a while. I think I've got a picture of them both in my rucksack, from just a few weeks ago actually.' He rifled in his bag, taking out empty packets, socks, clothes, and all the other crap in it, before the bag was finally empty save the bundle of photos at the bottom.

He took them and started flicking through them before he finally came to his favourite picture; Harry sitting on the floor with a crawling SJ beside him. They were both looking up, but whereas Harry was smiling widely, SJ stared intently at the camera, almost like he was concentrating ever so hard on something.

He looked wonderful.

'Oh,' crooned Emanuelle, 'he's...' she said, leaving the sentence unfinished. After a few minutes of staring; filled only with the sounds of breathing and James gulping down his firewhiskey, Emanuelle looked up. 'He's wonderful. Looks just like you, more like you than before.'

'Yeah,' Sirius grinned. 'There's another one too of Rose dancing with him, but it's not in this bundle ... might be in the zip...' as he searched, Emanuelle ploughed her way through the photographs.

She laughed when she came across one of SJ sitting on the floor, attempting to dance. James knelt beside her and pointed at the legs in the background.

'Those sexy bare legs belong to a Mrs Lily Evans Potter. I think she was just wearing a towel then, but she was playing some music to help get SJ to sleep. Right, Pads...? Padfoot?'

Sirius however wasn't paying attention anymore. He pushed Emanuelle out of his lap, not gently at all, and fell to his knees on the ground. He tipped his rucksack upside down and shook it, but nothing came out, save a few other empty wrappers. He stuck his hands inside and fervently searched the smaller compartments before hissing out.

'James,' he said hoarsely, gesturing for his friend to hand over his own rucksack. Repeating the same routine as before, Sirius stripped the khaki coloured bag of all its contents, but what he was looking for did not come out.

'Fuck!' he howled. 'Fuck-fuck-fuck!' He jumped up and hissed angrily before kicking some of the stuff on the floor furiously. He pulled at his hair, inhaling and exhaling heavily. 'Fuck Prongs,' Sirius hissed.

'What, Padfoot?' James asked quietly.

'The dagger, Trelawney's one, I can't find it.'

xo

SJ clapped his hands together, and squealed again. He reached higher and higher, trying to bat the snitch away and giggling when he touched it. Harry was playing with his quaffle, chasing after it and swearing at it.

He had a potty mouth, he did. But what was to be expected? With a Father like that and Uncles even worse...

Rose lay on the large plush leather sofa, stretched out and sipping iced lemonade. She licked her lips and pushed back some sweat-damped hair.

Harry almost kicked SJ and she hurriedly put her glass down and scooped her son up, kissing the side of his head. He didn't cry much, SJ didn't. But he was frowning deeply, staring at her with wide silver eyes, lower lip trembling. 'Shhh,' Rose whispered, 'don't cry, darling.'

'G-gg-ggr—' he squealed in that delightfully high voice of his.

'Yes,' Rose mumbled distractedly, running a hand through his now Black hair. They'd been back for quite a while now, it was well into the evening, and dinner was being made for them. Walburga had been gone for about twenty minutes, and the room was eerily quiet without her.

Rose, strangely enough, was starting to really respect Mrs Black. The woman was a great bitch, oh yes, but she was someone who needed to be respected. She commanded that sort of thing. Like Dumbledore. Whether or not you liked the old man, there was just something about him.

Walburga was charismatic and charming, with a personality that drew anyone in.

The door opened and SJ made another squealing noise, clapping his hands together. Mrs Black came back in, Kreacher in tow. She signalled for Rose to get up: 'Dinner's ready,' she said in that haughty, posh voice of hers; a voice so similar to her son's; if not in pitch than definitely by the accent, its haughtiness and huskiness.

'Okay,' Rose said. She was slightly endeared when she saw that there were two baby chairs around the kitchen table. The food smelt excellent. She inhaled deeply and grinned before putting her son in his chair and Harry in his slightly bigger one.

'This smells wonderful,' she breathed to herself, tucking a lock of gold hair behind her ear. Sitting between the two boys, Rose started shovelling spoons filled with food onto her plate; mash potato, lamb, gravy, carrots, peas and so much more. But the blonde woman almost groaned when Harry started crying and repeating at the top of his lungs, 'FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!'

'Potter's son has no manners,' Walburga commented loftily, shaking her head and frowning. She was carefully assembling her meal, whilst Kreacher poured her expensive ancient mead from the 16th century. The aging woman was probably only drinking it because it was expected of her. Rose would bet a million galleons on that the wine tasted like old fart.

'You can't blame him. He only repeats what he sees and hears his Father and godfather do.' Rose challenged, licking the gravy from her lip and scooping more peas into her mouth.

'Yes, his Father,' the older woman said back, almost lazily, as if she couldn't give a flying fuck what Rose thought or said. 'Either way, he has rotten manners. He's obviously not been—'

'Mistress,' a voice croaked, and when Rose turned to see who it was, she shivered at the hideous elf standing in the doorway. 'Kreacher is sorry to disturb his Mistress, but Mistresses Bella and Cissy are waiting at the door. They want to speak to Mistress Black immediately...'

Walburga looked up; silver eyes boring into Rose's light green ones. 'Go,' she breathed. 'Kreacher, take Taten and the children to the underground cellar, through the escape route, and to that room Orion used, got it?'

'Y-yes, Mistress, but—'

Walburga reached out and slapped the elf, for the first time in years. He was certainly surprised. 'You are forbidden to talk to anyone about any of this Kreacher, to no one. Take Taten and the children and keep them hidden until I come and get you.'

Walburga didn't even wait, instead waving her wand and vanishing at least half the food. She then vanished the baby chairs before sweeping out of the room, her long dress billowing behind her. Kreacher wrapped his hand firmly around Rose's arm, fingers piercing her skin, before he whispered, 'This way, Miss Taten.'

She swallowed nervously, but let him drag her, Harry and SJ through a door and down some steps.

'What's happening,' Rose breathed, clutching her son tighter.

Kreacher sighed angrily, but continued to drag Rose through the weaving paths. 'Mistresses Cissy and Bella, they're here.'

'W-why?' she was afraid now, more than afraid.

She stopped walking, one arm tightening around SJ and the other keeping Harry close. 'Kreacher?'

He almost sneered at her, and she was tempted to hit him.

'They're here for you.'

xo

The Dark Lord had many emotions, some of hatred, and others of happiness. But his happiness was usually short lived. Someone did something to disappoint him. And then he'd be in a delightfully murderous mood for the rest of the week.

But now, he was content. And if the experiment worked, he'd be happy again.

'Show me, Madison,' he said in a soft, silky voice. She shivered but nodded quickly.

'Yes, my Lord. The subject from the first successful experiment is still in a comatose state, but it's a definite improvement.'

The labs were large; there were three in total. And Madison ran all of them. Though Voldemort didn't know exactly how she categorized them, he knew the one he was in now was the largest and for the most serious tests. There were already three dead Mudbloods on the beds furthest from him.

There was also a forth bed; monitors hovering in the air and all the latest St Mungos technology scattered around the large white room.

Madison straightened her long white coat. He was sedated right now, the Mudblood Romeo Kelley. And a good job too; the young man was rude and aggressive, especially when he had been pinned down to the hospital bed.

Lights were flickering in the air, showing his vitals, blood pressure, levels of surfacing magic and a whole lot more. Once she checked to make sure everything was alright, she cleared her throat and pointed at the cute man sleeping on the bed.

Madison was about to touch his hand when she shook her head, scoffed and put some gloves on. And then she touched him, feeling for a vein. 'Studies show, my Lord, that this vein here leads to the magic source of the body.'

Voldemort nodded, his patience wearing thin. He didn't care, not in the slightest. He just wanted to see whether or not what happened with the previous test subject would happen again. The last test subject didn't die. And that was a breakthrough, especially since every single one so far had.

'But we've added a new ingredient to the potion, my Lord. It was Abraham's idea. He said it could heal the body internally before the other ingredients could harm the body further. We added Phoenix tears.'

Some of the Death Eaters behind the Dark Lord clapped furiously; obviously impressed. But it didn't take much to impress them. Sheep, they were nothing but sheep. But if a time ever came when Voldemort lost, he could count the number of people who would stick with him till the end.

Less than ten, maybe.

He wouldn't lose though. He just couldn't.

'Continue then please, Madison. I do not have all day, unfortunately.' A few Death Eaters behind him tittered and snickered, and Lord Voldemort grinned widely.

'Y-yes, my Lord.' She busied herself with cleaning the needle, conjuring some things and vanishing others. Finally though, she seemed ready.

Madison tossed her bushy hair behind her, and then grabbed Kelley's arm. She searched for a few minutes, tapping her bare forearm with the tip of her wand. When the vein, under the surface of porcelain skin, glowed red, she put her long wand down.

'Would you like to administer the potion, my Lord?' she asked politely.

Voldemort took the needle, didn't even wait for her to tell him to go ahead, and pierced the skin with a little more vigour than necessary. The potion shone brightly, even when inside the man's body. It left a warm trail of startling red light.

Romeo Kelley's eyes opened and he gasped, reaching out and moaning under his breath. 'Pl-pl...' he breathed.

Then his body sagged, and he was silent once more.

The room was eerily quiet for at least a minute, before one foolish Death Eater at the back mumbled the words everyone was wondering.

'Is he...'

'No,' Madison answered quietly. All his levels are the same, which is a good thing. But he's asleep.'

'For how long though,' Bellatrix said inaudibly.

Lord Voldemort ignored her, instead staring intently at the body on the bed. He cleared his throat and looked up at Madison. 'Well done Madison.'

'Thank you, my Lord.' No one save Bellatrix noticed the smirk Jeffrey sent her way at the Dark Lord's praise.

And that was when Bellatrix vowed to herself that as soon as Jeffrey's job was done, she would kill the woman. She just had too.

xo

'Are you sure?' James asked angrily, as unfolded his clothes and riffled through the small medi-kit Lily had set up for him earlier.

'Yes, I—' Sirius thought carefully for a long moment, muttering under his breath and retracing his steps. Then he groaned. 'Yes, I'm sure Prongs. I took it out of my bag and put it on top of the wardrobe when I saw SJ playing with the stuff inside.'

His son had gotten close to stabbing himself with Trelawney's dagger. And Sirius, like most parents, put it the furthest away from his little munch-kin as he could.

Only, what with accompanying Remus and the others on their moonlight tryst, and watching two wild and testosterone fuelled werewolves fight, and then hastily packing, he'd forgotten to get the dagger back off the wardrobe.

Trelawney's dagger.

With its venom-filled sterling silver and its uniqueness, he knew that it would be just as hard making another one (if in fact his arm could provide anymore venom) as it would be retrieving the original dagger.

'What are we gonna do?' Sirius's voice was very quiet, almost as though he was scared to speak. Beside him, the furiously attractive Italian woman was pacing, and muttering in her mother-tongue.

'The only thing we can do Padfoot,' James said angrily. 'We need to go back there and get it.'

'You're having a fucking laugh.'

'I'm not,' the bespectacled Marauder answered. 'Honest.'

A/N: please review! [I've accidentally posted this chapter twice! I'm so sorry!]