Fourteen years have passed since Arielle accepted Sirius's proposal.
Arielle Mane had been packing for a journey on a broomstick for more than 6,000 miles, with sighs in her room. She was ordered home, to Britain, for the first time in fourteen years. She peeled a poster of her favourite Quidditch team, Toyohashi Tengu, off the wall with a sigh again. She wanted to watch one more game—even if it would result burning their broomsticks after their defeat (Toyohashi Tengu was internationally well-known because of this old-fashioned, wood-wasting custom).
She'd never returned to Britain since she was been sent to Far East, Japan, as a member of the goodwill mission—she still stayed there as a professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and had taught it to the young wizards and witches in a Japanese magic school.
She knew it was due to Barty Crouch's intention. He was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement fourteen years ago. She heard he'd passed away several weeks before, but she felt nothing for his death; she still felt bitter about him. He relegated her to the Department of International Cooperation and sent to Japan, even though she was an Auror outstanding enough to arrest his son, Barty Crouch Junior, who was a Death Eater. In a while, Crouch himself was demoted to the same Department too—she thought it served him right.
Arielle began to read again some letters she'd received in few weeks. One of them was a letter of appointment—Arielle was being called back, going to be an Auror again in August. In the bottom of the letter, there was the signature of Cornelius Fudge—the current Minister. He'd been Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes when Arielle met him for the last time—she couldn't forget his face either. He was involved in her last work as an Auror. Another piece of parchment which was attached to the letter said: "This personnel transfer hasn't been announced publicly."
She wondered and got upset at the same time when she received the letter—Japanese schools start in April, which meant she needed to leave the school she was working for in the summer holidays, halfway a school year. She'd managed to find a proper successor, and now, was preparing to restart her career as an Auror again.
Arielle began reading the second letter—from an Auror who worked with her as a colleague. Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his letter—
Dear Lioness Arielle,
I've just heard you are being called back. I'm so happy to hear the news.
As I told you before, I'm in charge of the hunt for Sirius Black, excuse me for mentioning his name—
Arielle stopped reading here. Sirius Black—yes, he'd been her fiancé. He was still her fiancé more likely; she didn't ever remember breaking off the engagement. What separated them was his betrayal of her close friends, Lily and James Potter. He was the Secret-Keeper, the only one who could tell where they lived, and sold them to Voldemort. What's worse, he killed twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, who was a close friend of them, too.
Arielle sighed again to see the name. Arielle was one of the wizards and witches involved with his arrest—
It was few days after Halloween—only four months after Sirius's proposal.
Arielle had received the terrible news from Sirius—James and Lily were killed—but somehow their only son, Harry, survived and Voldemort had gone. Arielle was at Auror Office. Some of the Death Eaters were eager to find where their Master was, and doing anything terrible indiscriminately. Aurors were receiving reports of the evildoing one after another. She was firmly determined to sweep anywhere of the Death Eaters.
Arielle had one thing she couldn't understand. Sirius had written to her, "I'm pursuing Peter." The Secret-Keeper was Sirius—why is he pursuing Peter?—thought Arielle. She never dreamed that he would sell them to Voldemort.
"Arielle, come with us, we need your help. Lots of Muggles seem killed. The murderer is still—"
Arielle stood up before Fudge concluded his words. She was one of only few Aurors who was at Office then; others were pursuing hiding Death Eaters and she'd just returned to the Office after a failure in catching them. She put her hand into the pocket of her robe and made sure she had her wand, and then took some small bottles of potions in it. She followed him and other trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol.
It was a dreadful sight. There were a crater in the middle of the street, Muggles screaming, bodies everywhere in heaps, a few fragments—the biggest one was a finger—and a man standing there laughing—he must be the murderer—
Hit Wizards and Arielle aimed their wands at him; she was right behind him. The next moment—she could hardly believe her own eyes.
"Arielle!"
The man looked behind, and called her name. Everyone got shocked. The laughing murderer was none other than Sirius, Arielle's fiancé.
Arielle felt her temperature falling as though covered with ice. She couldn't feel blood circulate through her body. Sirius was the betrayer.
No more explanation needed. It was a servant of Lord Voldemort who proposed to me—Arielle was so heartbroken. The dreadful sight and his laughter were printed in her mind.
Few days later Sirius was sentenced to life imprisonment and sent to Azkaban without a trial—it was not the end of the story. Wizengamot—Bartemius Crouch Senior himself, more likely—summoned Arielle to a hearing.
"Did you know Sirius Black was a Death Eater?" said Crouch.
"No, I didn't. I still believe he can't be one," replied Arielle. "He did hate his family with pure-blood mania—that's why he ran away from home when he was sixteen—"
"But you went to the spot and saw who killed the twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you must have no doubt that Black was a Death Eater," Crouch looked Arielle suspiciously. "You were the one who took Black, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir. But—"
"But what?" snapped Crouch.
"I suppose he doesn't have a Dark Mark, anywhere on his body," said Arielle calmly. "—as far as I know. We've lived together for four years—since each of us ran away from home—to be precise, a year after we did, though—I mean, after we came of age."
"Ran away—live together—even being pupils—even before marriage—" Arielle felt Crouch murmured, but she wasn't sure.
"A Dark Mark can be concealed," said Crouch sharply.
"Of course, it can."
"Then—did you know Severus Snape—your cousin on your mother's side—was a Death Eater?"
"I hadn't—" said Arielle. "—since I heard he'd turned to our side."
It was neither a truth nor a lie. Arielle actually knew he'd been becoming one, but she didn't want to believe.
"How about your friend, Remus Lupin? He's registered as a werewolf."
"He never takes part in the Dark Side! He never helps them in any shape or form! You all discriminate against werewolves so that more and more are joining the Dark Side—in the hope they'd have a better life! Don't you see that?"
Arielle was now putting away photos in frames. The last photo of her with her family was taken twenty-four years ago, on her eleventh birthday. She wrapped it with her clothes not to break the grass of the frame, and put it into her trunk.
Arielle found something that should have been behind the gold frame. She knew what it was; she had completely forgotten about it. It was a photo album bound in leather. Arielle opened it—for the first time in fourteen years.
A photo of a young boy and a girl was on the first page with a note in Arielle's handwriting—"When we first met, on 3 February 1971." Both he and she in the photo were waving their hands to Arielle—they were Sirius and Arielle of around eleven. There was a note in a different handwriting too—"I fell in love with Arielle at first sight."
Arielle browsed the album. In the photo on the next page, Sirius and Arielle were in Hogsmeade. "The first date, on 9 April 1977, Arielle's 17th birthday"—written in Sirius's handwriting. She'd completely forgotten—we went out on the first date on my birthday. Arielle stopped browsing at the third page from the last one. Sirius and Arielle on a beach, with a lapel pin on his robe and a necklace on her chest. "Proposed at the usual beach, on 18 June 1981," written in Sirius's; "The happiest day, we are truly going to share a life," written in Arielle's.
Arielle touched the four-leaf clover on her chest, as though her hands had been led by it. In fact, she'd never taken it off for several years—
Arielle left for Britain at the night of 23 July, riding on her broomstick, wearing goggles and a cloak. Her belongings were only a broomstick, Cleansweep Six, and an old, large trunk. It should have been a journey for a week and a half. She flew to the west.
She went through Asia on a flying carpet she bought from a good-natured merchant, who reminded her of her own late father, and sold it in Turkey. She knew flying carpets were illegal in Great Britain but had liked to use one sometime.
She spent the ninth night in France—her homeland was just over there. And then she received a new letter from Fudge. He said he liked to meet her the next evening—it was not impossible if she left there before dawn—and she immediately wrote him back with a favourable answer. She went to bed earlier in the evening.
She didn't know yet what would happen after crossing the Straight of Dover.
It was when Arielle was flying over the estuary of the Thames that she first realised something strange. She hovered feeling it. The air suddenly became chilly. Stars, Moon, and the lights below her, all got turned off. The next moment, Arielle realised what all those meant—they are coming. She felt about in a pocket of the robe for a wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Only a feeble wisp of silver smoke drifted from her wand. And then she heard them coming nearer, drawing rattling breaths. Happy memories, happy memories—she said to herself.
"Will you marry me?"—her fiancé's grey eyes shone by the setting sun—it was the first thing burst clearly into her mind—"I will protect you"—
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
She conjured a Patronus at last—but it was not what she'd expected. She couldn't believe her own eyes for a moment.
Her Patronus had been a lion—the same as her late father's; she'd just conjured a silver dog.
"Protect me, Sirius," said Arielle automatically. The silver dog ran around guarding her.
Dementors passed by. She flew after them. They were heading straight somewhere—as though they'd ordered to attack someone. Some of the Dementors had left Azkaban—she had no idea what it meant.
As Arielle overtook them, they'd been attacking two boys in an alleyway—one of them was trying to conjure a Patronus; the other was nearly 'kissed.'
"Get it!" yelled Arielle to the silver dog. At the same moment, a silver stag appeared and ran to the 'kissing' one.
Now all the Dementors are thrown away by two Patronuses. The stag ran through the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist; Arielle's silver dog came and stood by her.
Arielle saw the face of the boy who conjured the stag. She got amazed. Even beyond her goggles, she could see his green eyes well; she knew whose eyes they were. This is their son—
"Are you all right?" Arielle asked to him.
"Yes, but—" replied the boy, looking at the other boy. "—my cousin is a Muggle—"
Arielle took big steps to see his cousin. She saw him shocked, but he hadn't been kissed.
"He should be okay, just got shocked—" then Arielle heard someone—a human—a Muggle—coming. She was still holding a broomstick with her trunk—it might have been her own turn to be charged with violating the International Statute of Secrecy.
"Sorry, but I need to go now. I'll surely report this to the Ministry—"
Arielle took her broomsticks and flew into the night sky, which regained stars and Moon. Streetlights were back now, too. Then she wondered why she didn't use Disapparition. Ministry of Magic was close enough to do it safely.
Arielle saw her new Patronus—a dog—and muttered to it.
"I still seem to love you, don't I?"
She sped her old Cleansweep to London. The silver dog was still running, and guarding her.
