Meeting halfway

Rufus walked the twisting pathway through the cubicles, noticing how eyes were following him around suspiciously. He knew that none of the aurors trusted him, especially not the older ones. They were all too much like Moody. Most of them who had fought in the last war had a lot to say about the way in which the department was now run. Most of them didn't like the fact that he was head auror. He couldn't understand why.

He wasn't bad at his job.

It was just that they clearly didn't understand what the Head auror was supposed to do. You couldn't keep a country in check by following the rules. You did it by enforcing rules upon other people. Make them follow the laws. Give them a structured and ordered society. You had to keep the people in line, make them understand who was in charge. You couldn't let them all get too clever to the things that really happened in the ministry. There had already been too many rebellions in British History. There had been too many civil wars; too many struggles for power. He had to make sure that the ministry remained in control. He had to make sure that all threats to the ministry were eliminated before they gained the support they needed to be dangerous. It wasn't easy being the Head Auror.

He remembered the care free days when he was still new to the entire department. When he and Haden were still friends and Moody was still a firm believer in democracy. When he trusted the decisions made by his superiors and didn't mind doing what was asked of him. You only saw that eagerness in the young ones. As they grew into the ministry ranks and got a firmer grasp on what it means to be an auror, they tended to lose that trust. They became caught up between the knowledge of the unlawful things they were doing and the unlawful things that would happen if they didn't.

Times of peace always complicated things. It was easier to run a country that was caught up in war.

"Dwalish and Kingsley," he greeted as he came to a rest at the latter's cubicle. "I was wondering weather I could have a word with the two of you in my office." They were both newish to the ministry. Both of them came highly recommended. He watched as Dawlish shot a questioning look at his friend and then nodded quickly.

He turned lazily and began strolling towards his office. He could do with a drink.

He had come up with a solution to his problem. One he wasn't very keen on sharing with the minister at the moment. The worst had happened of course. After receiving a visit from Dr. Powly, the one he had sent to Azkaban a couple hours ago, he was left with a file that contained terrible news. For the good doctor couldn't find anything physiologically wrong with Sirius Black. Which was extremely disturbing seeing as the man had spent years in one of Azkaban's most highly guarded cells. According to the good doctor, Black had not once shown any hostility towards the Potter-boy nor had he said anything sinister or disturbing. Apparently the conversation they had had was completely appropriate and civil. She even noted how much Potter seemed to be benefiting from spending time with his godfather and recommended that the boy be allowed to visit him again.

She disregarded Black as being harmless.

It wasn't supposed to be that way.

Black was a mass murdered! Black was a death eater! Black was a traitor. A very sick man who sold out his best friend and probably sold out the ministry he was working for at the time. How on earth could he be harmless? The bastard! Where did all the justice in the world go to? How could it be possible that Black didn't reach across the table and strangle the little boy to death? To recommend that the boy spent more time with the traitor just made him so mad. Black deserved to die, painfully.

To make matters worse the Prophet had indeed sent a photographer and reported to witness the entire thing; which meant that in tomorrow's copy of the daily prophet a lovely picture of the two of them will appear on the front page, along with a sickening article about godfather and godson reunited. A terrible read no doubt, all about forgiveness and letting go of the past and all the rest of the bullshit that usually went along with that. It would be a disaster. What if someone asked about the other prisoners of Azkaban or suggested to retrial some of the death eaters sentenced there for life.

Rufus wasn't an idiot. He knew that the files of those trials were not in order and most of them were empty. He knew that it was one thing the ministry couldn't risk exposing to the public. Not a single law was followed during that confusing time after the fall of the dark lord. Not a single rule book opened during the time that they were sentenced to life in that hell hole. The very room in which they kept those incomplete records was locked away somewhere in the archives. Everyone wanted to bury them. Forget about them. All of them ashamed about what happened the first couple of months after You-know-who's death.

He pulled the door open and walked in hastily making his way to the liquor cabinet in the far corner. The plan he had was very dodgy, not at all reasoned out completely. It would be very dangerous and if the two of them were caught it would cause the entire situation to become even more bothersome. He tried to steady his shaking hand as he poured himself a whiskey. One of the perks of being head auror was that you could do pretty much anything. Especially with Fudge as the minister for magic. That idiot was so preoccupied with maintaining his position that he would believe anything you told him.

He knew the room was well warded. Whatever was said inside couldn't be over heard. However his heart was beating faster and faster. It was very risky, especially now that Haden seemed to show some interest in what he was doing.

The door closed behind him signalling that the two aurors were currently waiting for him.

He took a steadying breath and with his glass lazily swinging from his fingers he moved to lean against his desk and stare at the two of them with the most relaxed expression he could muster. They were both standing according to the book, backs straight and arms folded neatly behind. Legs situated comfortable apart and their heads held high, each bearing two very alert and excited eyes. They were both still very young.

"Well lads," he began saying, "It seems that the ministry has a problem and I was hoping that you'd solve it for us." He paused, taking note of how they reacted so far. A cold smile curled its way onto his face; they were indeed trained very well. He took a sip of whiskey and continued, "Of course, I cannot discuss the matter with the two of you in great detail. However, you both need to know that what you are about to do is of the utmost importance. You are to go to obliviate certain individuals. You cannot be seen or heard. Then you will take a portkey I will supply and…"

He loved rookie aurors, they would do anything you asked them to do without question.

When he was younger, he used to come down here and watch them all in their sleep. Listen to their pathetic mumblings as the Dementors floated by. He used to find it funny the way they used to drool and cry, caught up in their darkest memories. He would watch them gnaw at the filthy blanket or wooden frame of their cots, dreaming it to be a warm meal. He used to enjoy sitting in the shadows, hidden from their eyes as they thought about chewing through their wrist and giving up any hope of living. It used to put a smile on his face. When he was younger…

Now, all the fun seemed to have gone out of it. Haden sat in front of Black's cell feeling no joy inside at the suffering mutters of the prisoners around him. These days he couldn't enjoy the privileges that came with being the Warden. It seemed that with every passing day he just felt less satisfaction about the suffering all the bastards and bitches on this hell rock were going through.

Though he hadn't come here tonight to contemplate that, he was here for a very different reason. Today had indeed been most upsetting; what with that silly head doctor and prophet idiots walking his halls freely. All of them deserved at least a minimal sentence in this place. A month would put them in line nicely. He hated people who walked free. Everyone was meant to pay for their sins, not just the murderers and rapist trapped behind these walls. In his opinion there were worst things that committing such crimes. Unfortunately nobody would ever pay much attention to his opinion.

Haden had been waiting here in the dark wing for quite some time now. He expected them to be here earlier. It was already very close to midnight and rounds were going to start pretty soon. Unsurprisingly it was cold down here. The see leapt through the barred cell windows at ease and the wind sped effortlessly through the cells and down the corridor. He could see many of them shivering. He had seen them all shivering in much the same way. Black, being the exception.

There was just something about the man that never quite fitted into the surroundings. It could have to do with the fact that he miraculously was still here, was still alive, was still sane. Something that never stopped to bother Haden. It was not possible for something like that to happen. Especially not in this part of Azkaban. The average life expectancy of a prisoner in this part of the fortress was seven months. Yet Black had been here for seven years. Also, Black never shivered like the others did. He never cried or shouted out in the dead of night. It wasn't that the dementors didn't affect him, like any other man or woman he would black out or begin to cower in the corner furthest away from the barred door. It was just that he had always seemed so accepting.

Black made him uneasy. Sirius was certainly a prisoner he didn't want in his prison. Yet here Haden was, making sure the man would live to see dawn.

Haden had done many things in his life. He had seen many terrible things that have all left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to let Rufus commit another one of those things without at least trying to stop it. He didn't really care much for wizarding law, but he knew wrong from right. He learned the difference between the two during the war. And for some reason he couldn't let Rufus kill Black off even if it was all justified.

He had let it all happen in the past. They all deserved it in the past. Black was just, different.

With Black it just wouldn't feel right.

His head shot up, the movement hidden in the shadows, at the sound of feet hitting the stone tiled floor of the hallway and quickly making their way towards him. He swiftly stood up straight, his wand held firmly in his hand and fixed his eyes on both the aurors that were currently magicking Black's cell door open. Just as one of them walked into the cell, his mind no doubt bent on killing the prisoner, Haden lashed his wand out violently sending a massive purple stunner streaking into the man's back. He was knocked clean off his feet and shoved into the wall at the far end of the cell.

With five sure strides he was behind the second man, and put the tip of his belt knife snugly against the man's adams apple, "Here is what you are going to do son. Listen carefully, cause I am just going to say this to you once." He could feel the man's muscles tightening. "You are going to pick up your buddy over there and haul his ass off of my island, you are going to take the portkey back to Rufus and give him this letter while you're at it." He freed two fingers from the wand in his left hand that was currently trained on the stirring figure on the floor, reached into his jacket pocket and took out the piece of parchment he had spent two hours writing on, after the good doctor left. He pushed it into the man's free hand and took away his knife from the man's neck.

Haden backed into the slimly cell wall behind him, switching his wand from his left hand to his right, ready for a fight if the young auror was stupid enough to seek one. However the Auror's eyes took him in once and then left in a hurry. He picked up his friend, who was struggling to stand up at the time and hauled him out of the cell and into the dark corridor. Haden didn't relax his grip on his wand until he heard their feet disappear up the steps of the distant hallway.

His gaze drifted over to Black's piercing blue eyes. He was wide awake and sitting upright in his cot, the thin blanket wrapped around him protectively. "Thank you, Sir." He said in a steady voice.

Haden's heart leapt, there was such respect in that voice. Respect he hadn't been shown in a long time. For a moment he couldn't help picturing the Sirius Black he used to know; the handsome young auror who he had taught stealth and tracking for a year…

Haden nodded back sharply and turned to leave, he didn't want to stare into those haunted eyes any longer. With a flick of his wrist the cell door flung shut and locked neatly. Haden began walking away quickly. Trying not to think of the things he saw in Sirius Black's blue eyes. Things he hadn't seen in Azkaban for a very long time.

Clear traces of gratitude and hope, lost amongst a sea of innocence.

Dearest old friend

Let this be a lesson, not to send rookies to do your own work. I thought that eventually time would put your mind at ease. It seems I was wrong. You have a very ill mind Rufus. Do you honestly think taking Black's life would put your mind at ease? Why fight so hard for this? Do you not know that the war ended years ago old friend?

Also

Why do you think I was granted to title of Warden of Azkaban? Do you think it is because I am an incompetent drunken fool who could do the ministry no more good? I was put here for a reason Rufus.

Also

You will meet with me at the Raven's Rider tomorrow afternoon and we will discuss everything that has happened tonight in length. Moody will also be present. I think it is high time the three of us had a nice chat. We clearly don't understand each other anymore. Bring a copy of tomorrow's Daily prophet will you. I am sure Moody will be more than interested in the reason why Black's face won't be in it.

Also

Next time I will kill the idiots you send here without my permission, you sleazy, sadistic, power hungry maniac.

Also

Thank you for solving my problem with the media.

Have a lovely evening.

Haden

Rufus cursed loudly and fell backwards into his arm chair. Why was it that nothing ever went the way he planned it?

None of the chairs matched, none of the tables matched, none of the glasses were of the same make and the entire pub seemed to be falling apart. The wallpaper was peeling off in certain places and the wooden floors were sticky and stained. The chair beneath him creaked dangerously, telling him that the entire structure could collapse any moment. A layer of smoke clung to the ceiling and the bar was so crowded by people that he hadn't yet seen the barman. The muggle television was very loud and a bunch of drunken muggles were packed in front of it. In the corner of the room he had seen a young lad throw up the ill prepared meal the lad tried eating earlier the evening and as far as Rufus knew nobody had bothered cleaning it all up yet. It made his skin crawl.

He looked down at his wrist watch and winced, he had only been sitting here for twenty minutes. He knew he shouldn't have come so early. Haden was always there when he needed to be there, he would arrive the minute they agreed on. He always was very punctual. Moody on the other hand would probably be late; Moody never cared much for the rules. Rufus had come earlier hoping that the other two might have changed in the past couple of years.

Wishful thinking.

He flinched as his hand reached down and curled itself around the dirty glass to raise it to his mouth, he had to keep up appearances after all, there was no need to draw any attention to himself. He tried not to vomit as the beer was swallowed down his throat and he gladly put his glass back onto the table. It was a wonky table; all the legs seemed to be of different lengths. It irritated him so much.

He knew Haden was a very messy person, disorganized and dirty, but he couldn't understand why he would insist on meeting here after all these years. Rufus didn't exactly have the fondest memories of the pub. Back when they were still young aurors, Haden would always insist coming here after work. Haden would then get horribly drunk, pick a fight with some muggle and get thrown out into the street. Rufus usually had to drag his sorry ass back to the apartment they shared and patch him up. This went on for years until Haden got accepted into the Interrogation and Investigation section of the department and began working odd hours and late nights. Rufus didn't see much of him during those years; Haden would get home at late and then spent the rest of the night going through files in his room. Rufus had moved up in the ranks by that time and spent many weeks out in the field with Moody. After a year, the two of them hardly saw each other at all.

Then Haden got married and moved out of the apartment. That was around the time you-know-who started gaining power and the two of them never had time, to make time for each other. They hadn't really had a proper conversation in two decades.

He looked at his wrist watch again and then his eyes lifted up to meet the man who was walking through the door. Haden was always very punctual.

It was raining outside, it had been raining the past two days in London, and a cold wind forced its way into the pub earning Haden many shouts of 'Close the damn door!'. With a lopsided smile he apologized and shut the door firmly behind him, bringing back the muffled sound of rain battering the cobbled street outside to accompany the loud music and shouting muggles.

His old friend shook off his coat and walked slowly towards him with a cocky smile on his scarred face. Rufus's hand wrapped tightly around his wand beneath the table; back in the day Haden would never dare attack him in public, but after spending years trapped in that prison, Rufus wouldn't put it past him. Most people went mad in Azkaban after all and Haden never was one of the most stable people he knew. "You're on time." Rufus muttered darkly his eyes never leaving Haden's.

The smile widened as Haden sank down into the nearest chair, "It does my heart good to see you still trying so hard to be stay in control. Tell me my friend, after knowing me all these years, why wouldn't you try harder to do me in. That plan of yours had too many faults in it. When did you become such a reckless gambler?" Haden leaned forwards and took the glass from under his nose.

Rufus tried not to winch. Haden had figured it all out immediately of course. It wasn't very easy putting things past him and it seemed that he just got sharper as he became older. What an auror…he would have been a great asset to the ministry if he had chosen to stay on. Rufus didn't doubt for a second that he would have been head of Investigations if he hadn't left after the war. You couldn't hide things from him. "The main objective was to kill Black, and if you happened to go down after they investigated the entire thing it could only make things easier for me." Rufus said with a shrug; trying not to shiver when Haden gave him a calculating look.

"Were you really going to pin all those other prison killings on me as well Rufus?" Haden asked coldly.

"The Wizengamont don't like going through trouble. This you should know well. Why spent an extra two weeks on a full investigation when they could simply put the blame for the other killings on you. That would be really convenient, wouldn't it? It's not as if they really care about the prisoners in the first place. Along as the public thinks they do." Rufus watched him finding a small smile curling onto his face. "I suppose I didn't really put my heart into it."

"You make rash decisions when you aren't under pressure. You should have come to Azkaban and kill Black yourself. I would have expected you to grant him that privilege at least." Haden answered curtly. "Of course, you don't seem to like coming to Azkaban. I don't scare you do I?"

Rufus rolled his eyes. Haden knew exactly why Rufus didn't enjoy Azkaban. "I never lost a duel to you, old friend." Rufus said lazily.

A cunning smile appeared on Haden's lips, "Ah, but you did lose a girl to me once."

Rufus shook his head and grinded his teeth, nothing ever seemed to change. "You need a whiskey; you are far too somber to have a proper conversation with." He said in a strained voice. Haden had been alcohol dependent since the two of them were in the academy together. You could always tell when he had been deprived of alcohol for too long.

Haden snorted, "I finished the last of my Whiskey when that Potter boy was visiting Black." He got up and moved past Rufus dropping a copy of the prophet in front of him. "I hope you get your facts straight old friend, I learned everything I know from Mad-eye after all." He snarled as he walked over to the bar and pushed through the crowd to get to the barman.

Rufus shook his head. He couldn't remember how he had befriended the man when they were younger, nor could he understand why he had chosen to do such a thing. Haden had always unpleasant. His attention fell on the day's copy of the daily prophet. He unfolded the paper and stared at the front page. He recalled staring at it a couple of times in the morning after he woke up. At the time he had such a headache that he couldn't appreciate his cunning while dealing with a very distraught minister.

On the front page was a story about a witch that was murdered somewhere in the midlands and a Wizard who disappeared on the same day from his house up in Leister, it went on for about three pages and was followed by the news of England's loss to the Italian Quiditch team. The rest was basically not worth reading. It was just another boring copy of the daily prophet. But he was very fond of this copy; it had no Sirius Black in any of the pages.

He closed his eyes and smiled happily. Even if the entire plan wasn't followed through the most important part had been done. Kingsley and Dwalish had destroyed all the evidence of Potter's meeting with Black and after Rufus pulled some strings and firecalled some people he managed to get the story left out of printing yesterday night. It appeared that murder was still much more important than forgiveness; there was still hope for his kind after all.

"You seem to be very pleased." Haden's voice interrupted his musings as he sat down at the table with his glass of whiskey, "I must admit I am impressed by it as well. You reacted to it all very quickly."

Rufus shrugged, "I get paid to."

"Only the ministry of Magic would pay someone to do such things." Haden nodded from the other side of the table, "do you still wonder why I left that circus? Or have you always known?" He rubbed the smooth glass that was cradled in his hands, "these past couple of years I was beginning to wonder if you signed up with the ministry all those years ago, knowing that this is what you would be doing. What gives you the right to chose who lives and who dies Rufus?" He finished quietly.

"I do what I need to do, to keep Britain intact. That was the contract we signed all those years ago." Rufus replied calmly. His gaze shifted to his wrist watch again and he started wondering how much longer Moody could be. He hadn't come here for this. He didn't come here to have this conversation with Haden. Rufus was good at his job.

"I think we should talk about our little problem, namely that brat and his idiot godfather. I think we should agree upon a solution." Haden said after a moment's silence, "I do not like Black. I do not want him in Azkaban and the same goes for that little bastard. You don't like Black, you don't like the fact that he is in Azkaban and you don't like Potter visiting him either. So, I suggest we work together to make our problems go away." Haden finished.

And as his old friend raised his weary eyes to look at him, Rufus saw it. The same sympathy, the same willingness to let go, the same look of doubt that Moody sported when he heard Black's pathetic confession of innocence to the Potter brat days ago. Haden didn't want Black in Azkaban because he thought Black didn't deserve it. He thought Black could be innocent. Didn't any of them get it? Didn't any of them understand? He could never allow Black to be innocent. The investigation alone would uncover so many lies and bribes, that the ministry would be torn apart by the media and over thrown by the people. He would never get a chance to sit behind that desk then… "All the evidence points towards Black being guilty and all the eyewitnesses clearly stated why they saw; even Dumbledore agreed that Black was guilty."

"Do not feed me that bullshit. I know about evidence, I know all about eye witnesses and I know everything about murder. I am telling you, that it all feels wrong. Something doesn't make sense. Something just doesn't fit." Haden hissed at him while leaning over the table.

"The rest does." Rufus pointed out slowly, "There is no time to correct past mistakes; we must accept them. Move on with your life Haden. Forget about it."

The warden sat back in his chair and let out a great sigh that was lost amongst the music and the mummers of the other people in the pub, "How do you live with the guilt?"

"I don't live with the guilt, I forget about it." Rufus said with a sad little sigh of his own. He wished Moody would hurry up and get here, he didn't like this conversation or where it was going. "I do what I need to do to keep the country from falling apar-"

"You mean you do what you need to do to keep your country from falling apart?" Haden cut across, anger present once more in his voice. "The only reason you are still in the ministry is because you have this idea in your head about putting some backbone back into the ministry."

"I am not waiting for that opportunity." Rufus answered him lazily.

Haden snorted, "Yeah right, I forgot, you like manipulating Fudge into doing your bidding. How long know have you been ruling over magical Britain Rufus? What five years?"

"Four and a half." Rufus corrected, "When is Mad-eye getting here, shouldn't we wait for him?"

Haden's face split into a calculating grin, "Mad-eye was never coming in the first place. I just thought you would be too scared to show up when it would just be the two of us and I think that I was correct. You would have loved it thought, wouldn't you? If old mad-eye was here listening to us fighting about the minister of magic and how you have been manipulating him into getting rid of the prisoners of Azkaban. I believe he would have been impressed with that entire fake assassination attempt you organized. He would have been very impressed by the way you planted evidence which led all the way to Azkaban, creating fear of that place and the people trapped there inside Fudge's heart. You would love to do that, wouldn't you? Get Moody to acknowledge that you are the one in charge and make him understand that you are the one running the show now."

Rufus pushed his chair back, he had no reason to stick around and listen to the drunk lunatic in front of him anymore. What did Haden know about anything? He was always so firkin clever. He was always the very best. Getting to run investigations and heading interrogations back when he was scarcely out of his bloody teens. It was unfair.

Rufus was the one who always worked the hardest, stayed up the longest and practiced the most. While Haden was out drinking with his other friends, Rufus had always stayed in doing al the paper work. It was his paper work that got Haden that position in the first place. It was unfair. It was always so bloody unfair.

He spent twenty years working underneath Moody. Being barked at and ordered around by the old man. Nobody else could honestly say that they ever spent more than a month working as the old dog's partner. Every other auror refused, but Rufus never complained once. It was embarrassing, and humiliating to be partnered up with that, that thing. While everyone else who was in the academy with him was running around catching murderers and rapist he was cleaning Mad-eye's wand, his boots, his locker, Rufus was going out to buy the man coffee and writing up the paper work. He spent the best years of his life trapped behind a desk because of that man. While Haden was out having the time of his life. It was all so unfair.

What made Haden smarter than him? All he ever did was drink and read. Then after years of sticking by his side, picking him up when he was too wasted to walk up the stairs, being his best friend and living with all of Haden's shit, the man repaid him by marrying his girl friend. Was there no justice in the world?

He never once complained, he never once did anything wrong, he never once put a toe out of line and yet everyone who did seemed to get further in life than him. After all that abuse, he deserved a chance to shine. It was his turn to be the best; to be the most powerful and the cleverest.

He threw the door open and stormed out into the pouring rain. He turned up the street and walked quickly, ignoring Haden's shouts behind him.

He deserved to see those prisoners all die and he deserved to sit behind that neat, smooth desk. After so many years of being everyone's favorite push over, of being the nice guy and the good friend he deserved a reward or two.

Haden couldn't talk about doing the right thing when the man had never done the right thing before. Haden used to be one of the cruelest aurors, more feared than Mad-eye and twice as unstable. He use to drag bodies into headquarters by the dozen. He use to beat the truth out of people, literary. He was a sick old bastard and the last person in the world that had the right to give him a lecture about doing the right thing.

Rufus had always been a very good auror and a much better human being.

He was a very good auror.

He was doing the right thing.

He was doing his job.

He was a very good auror.

He was doing the right thing.

He was doing his job.

He was a very good auror.

Rufus reached the end of the cobbled street that ran into a busy London road. Water was streaming off of him and eyes were squinting as he tried to see through the rain.

He was doing the right thing.

He looked back over his shoulder at the pub, were he could still make out the dark figure of a man leaning against the door frame staring at him intently.

He was doing his job.

Rufus turned on the spot and vanished.