A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And thank you to my beta, CC, for the wonderful job. And thank you too, to my dear friend Lord Frieza :)

Chapter Nineteen

Helena made Sirius tell her everything he could about what Dumbledore had said; about when she had become a member of the Order (May) and why (he'd needed her cartography skill), and that both he and James were now part of that same Order. Even though she'd forgotten the original reason, she had apparently re-earned the right to entry by helping Moody. A meeting would be called at an undisclosed location later in the week—more training for all of them. This could possibly be the most important education they would ever receive, after all, so Helena didn't mind.

"But what did he say when you asked why they tried to kidnap me?"

"The same thing he said to you in St Mungo's," Sirius told her. His back was to her as he made them both some cocoa. "Sugar?"

"Two, please."

He stirred it in, and handed it to her, sitting opposite. "What, that's it?" she asked. "Just 'he had theories'?"

"More or less."

"Damn that man sometimes."

"He's just trying to help, Hellfire."

She sighed. "I know. It's just frustrating."

He eyed her over his mug. "You're not frightened anymore, though, are you? You have the Death Eaters after you, and look at you. You're utterly fearless."

She felt a little blush rise to her cheeks. "Well…can't just put my life on hold, can I? I'm not going to give in to bastards like that. And I know you wouldn't expect me to anyway."

He chuckled. "Well that's true."

She bid him goodnight and went upstairs, climbing into bed feeling as though the day hadn't really happened at all. Surely she couldn't have actually been the subject of a botched kidnapping attempt, only to be rescued by aurors, and then watched Alastor Moody lose an eye, and now… Now she was suddenly in a secret society sworn to fight against Voldemort. Who wanted to kidnap her. Who wanted to question her for information she no longer had access to. Who wanted to do whatever it took to get that information.

It was that knowledge that woke her, sweating, shivering and giving little cries of imagined pain and real shock. The darkness around her seemed full of shadows just waiting to form into Death Eaters; the wind outside seemed to hiss her name. Knowing that the images would only hang around longer if she stayed in bed, Helena got up and crossed the landing to the bathroom, washing her face with cold water and glad, for once, of elec- ecel- whatever muggle light was called. It was much brighter and much harsher than candlelight, and easily banished the shadows of her nightmare. Feeling better, though shaky now that all the adrenaline was floating around her body had nowhere to go and nothing to do, she went to the loo before going back to bed. As soon as the light was gone, all the fear returned and the nightmare creatures returned. A faint noise, and her eyes snapped open, she sat up with a jolt. It came again, and she mentally slapped herself. The tree in the garden. It was close enough to her rooms so that she would hear the sound of its branches in the wind. She was being ridiculous.

She still wasn't anywhere near sleep, though, when a scream pierced the night. It was shrill, loud and blood-curdling. It got Helena scrambling out of her bed, her heart thumping painfully. She grabbed her wand off the bedside table and crept over to the window as the scream came again. It was utterly eerie. She pulled back one corner of the curtains and- Laughed at herself. There was a fox standing in the middle of the deserted street, barking and howling for her cubs. Three of them gamboled across the road to meet her. Helena let the curtain drop.

"Stupid girl," she muttered at herself.

Whatever the fox had done though, it had not made her feel better or less at risk. She wasn't going to sleep tonight, and she didn't want to be alone, either. Still clutching tight to her wand and looking fearfully at the walls as though her own house was going to hurt her, she moved downstairs to the next story. The light seeping under Sirius' bedroom door was a very welcome sight. He was awake, so she wouldn't be disturbing him.

He was also, she realised, taking to himself. Pausing at the door in an act of shameless eavesdropping—though wasn't this her house?—she listened. "…not discussing, it."

And then bizarrely, James' voice. James was here? "You don't know how she'd react."

"No? I think how she did react might be a good indication, Prongs! It is not happening. What did Lily say?"

"She was shocked, of course. Couldn't imagine what the hell Death Eaters could want with Helena."

"None of us could," Sirius said, his tone dark.

Helena knocked softly on the door. "Padfoot?"

"I've got to go. Come in!"

She pushed open the door, seeing him sitting up in bed, but the rest of the room was empty. "Who were you talking to?"

"James." He lifted up what seemed to be a mirror wrapped in cloth. "Communication device we invented a few weeks ago." He put it aside and frowned and her. "What are you doing up? Thought you'd be asleep by now."

"I was," she confessed. "Nightmare."

"About what?"

"Oh, y'know…being tortured and killed by the forces of evil."

"That why you're all sweaty?"

She nodded, suddenly realising what a state she must look. Her hair was plastered to her forehead in ratty strands, and the back of her neck was still wet with cold perspiration. "Probably."

"Want a shower?"

"If you come with me."

She'd been aiming for sexy, beckoning, inviting—it came out completely tiny, demonstrating that the fear still hadn't gone away. Silently, he pushed the covers back and got out, taking her hand. Helena's head felt dizzy with relief and gratitude. She didn't want to be alone at the moment. In the bathroom, he turned the shower on while Helena shed her nightie, then pulled her hair out of the bobble she'd bound it up in.

She stepped gratefully under the hot spray, letting the water replace sweat over her skin and in her hair. Sirius passed her the shampoo, and she washed her hair while he slid the sponge over her body with slow, languorous strokes. Tension seeped from her pores, to be gradually replaced by something else. By the time her hair was clean, arousal tingled through her body. Sirius seemed to have noticed, since the sponge was now going over ground it had already covered—namely her hardening nipples. She rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair and opened her eyes. Hands on his shoulders, she drew him closer.

"Feel better?"

She nodded, eyes fixed on his. Her heart was still pounding, but no longer from fear. Yesterday could well have been the last time she ever saw him. They didn't eat breakfast together, his day starting an hour later than hers. And she'd deceived him about meeting her mother—the last thing she said to him could have been a lie.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have told you I was going to meet her."

"Yeah, you should've." He sighed. "It was too close."

"I know."

She hugged him tightly, guilt washing over her in the same way as the water was. When she pulled back slightly, he gently placed his mouth over hers. It was different from any other kiss they'd shared. It was just a kiss for the sake of a kiss. He held her delicately both hands on her back while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She kissed him trying to memorise his taste; slightly minty from toothpaste, making her mouth tingle when their tongues met. His teeth nibbled at her lips, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest when she shivered. She counterattacked by sliding her hand down his wet body, trailing her fingertips to his cock. It responded quite magnificently to her touch. The tiles were cool when he lifted her against them, but pleasantly so. She wrapped her legs around his hips as his hands slipped down to cup her arse, supporting her fully while he pushed into her. He buried his mouth in her neck when she pulled her mouth away from his to gasp sharply, her teeth biting her bottom lip slightly. Sirius stilled for a moment once he bottomed out. Helena let out a low, pleasured groan, feeling completely better for the first time since she'd woken from her nightmare. Completely… She leaned her head down and captured his mouth again, nails sliding slowly down his back. He shuddered, then began moving his hips. Breaking off the kiss, they stared at one another, each of them refusing to look away. It was somehow more seductive than any other moment they'd shared before. The pleasure was different too; heavy, languid, waiting. Content to build to fever pitch before it exploded. His thrusts were slow, deep. The ball of pleasure in her core pulsed once, causing her to shudder from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Sirius increased the depth of his movements and with one, two, three- But it faltered. It got caught and it wouldn't- wouldn't-

Still looking deep into her eyes, Sirius kissed her and whispered, "Come. Come with me."

Helena did, whimpers escaping her mouth while her orgasm shook through her. In the confined space, noises of climax from both of them echoed loudly. Blindly, Helena sought his face, his mouth, pressing her lips to every bit of skin she could find while her breath came in hitching gasps which she might have called sobs at any other time. Strength quickly being sapped from his legs, he set her gently on her feet. Helena turned the shower off and stepped into the warm fluffy towel he held open for her.

She leaned forward and kissed him again, running her fingers lightly through his hair. "Thank you."

He took her hand and wordlessly led her down the stairs to his bedroom. She stopped him outside the doorway. "Are you sure you-"

"Will it make you feel better?"

Feeling her cheeks heat, Helena nodded. He smiled and pulled her inside, and she slipped into bed with a sigh. "It's childish, I know. Silly."

He shook his head. "After what's happened to you today? It's not silly, Hellfire." He blew the candle out, then moved further down the bed so his body was parallel to hers.

She reached out to touch his hip and met bare skin; he hadn't bothered with boxers. "I shouldn't be surprised you sleep naked."

He winked. "Gives you easier access." He sobered slightly, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Get some sleep, Helena."

She nodded, but stayed facing him before she closed her eyes. It crossed her mind that maybe she should find the sound of his breathing odd, or strange or too loud—but it was less than five minutes before she was fast asleep, unfamiliar as the sound was.

She woke to another unfamiliar sensation: the heavy, reassuring weight of warm arms around her. One, under her head and curled around to cup her breast, and number two resting on her stomach, on top of her own hand, their fingers laced together. She cracked open her eyes long enough to see the pale grey light of dawn floating through the edges of the curtains. Deciding it wasn't late enough to make her get up, she burrowed a little deeper into the bedclothes and Sirius' arms. He made a happy, sleepy noise and pulled her closer.

It's a shame we're not allowed to do this more often…Helena thought sleepily.

She knew why they weren't though. This was because she'd had a nightmare, because she was scared and because he was being sweet. But if they did this all the time, if she got to sleep in the same bed as him all the time, then that would be…a relationship. And neither of them wanted that. Did they?

Helena's eyes snapped open, the lethargy that had filled her limbs suddenly transformed into the urge to move.

She slipped quietly out of Sirius' arms and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The flagstones were cold on her bare feet, but she ignored that and set about making a cup of tea. Just as she put the teabags in to steep in the hot water, a tapping on the window signalled the arrival of her Daily Prophet. She put the appropriate number of knuts into the pouch on its leg and carried the paper over the the tea, unrolling it absently and picking up her cup.

As soon as she saw the headline, the tea dropped from nerveless fingers. Scalding liquid cascaded over her bare feet; she didn't notice, too busy staring. Sirius careered into the kitchen twenty seconds later, wand in hand but still stark naked otherwise. "What, what is it, what's the matter?"

She handed over the paper, wide-eyed. "My- My parents…"

"What?"

The picture blazed across the top of the front page: Malfoy Manor cast under a sickly green light. The Dark Mark burned overhead, grinning skull stark and proud.

SHOCK DOUBLE MURDER

The bodies of Abraxus Malfoy and his wife of thirty-two years, Veronique, were found in their countryside ancestral home in Wiltshire late last night. Mr and Mrs Malfoy were discovered by their son and daughter-in-law upon their return home from the opera. Upon arrival on the scene, Magical Law Enforcement Officers confirmed the cause of death for both victims. However, in a shocking twist in the tale, it appears only one of them was actually murdered. Mr Malfoy, late of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, was killed by the killing curse, apparently by Death Eaters. However, Mrs Malfoy was found hanging from the chandelier in the ballroom, the Prophet can reveal. This information, leaked to us by an anonymous Ministry source, has left MLEOs stumped. The presence of the Dark Mark above Malfoy Manor is irrefutable, and indeed it would seem that at least one of the deceased was murdered by followers of You-Know-Who. However, Mrs Malfoy's case is far more intriguing. Was it suicide? Was it murder? Sadly, the only person who could know is unable to give anyone the true details of what happened. One theory is that Mrs Malfoy was tortured for information before her death and then hanged. Of course, it is possible that she was unable to bear the thought of life without her beloved husband once she discovered his body, and so therefore took her own life.

The couple's son and daughter-in-law are said to be 'devastated', but declined to comment. Mr and Mrs Malfoy also have another child; an estranged daughter six years younger than Lucius Malfoy. Helena Malfoy, a recent Hogwarts graduate and current Junior Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, was also unavailable for comment.

Until further details of this mysterious and intriguing case emerge, the Prophet, like everyone else, is firmly in the dark. However, it may suggest a disturbing new trend in Death Eater behaviour, and the revelations will surely be of great concern to many pureblood families up and down the country. Until now, the sole victims of Death Eater attacks have been muggle-born witches and wizards, or high profile members of the community openly defying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We must all be now asking ourselves: if a family as ancient, prestigious and carefully neutral as the Malfoys can be targeted, are any of us safe?

"They- They didn't contact me," Helena said, annoyed that they'd lie like that. "Why would they say they'd contacted me when they haven't? That's unprofessional—shoddy journalism! I should write to the editor and-"

Sirius gripped her shoulders firmly. "Helena, are you not hearing this?"

She nodded. "Of course I am! They've just claimed to have tried to contact me and they didn't!"

"And why did they try to contact you?" he asked, speaking very slowly, as if to a very small child.

"To get my comment on what's happened."

"Right. And what's happened?"

With no way to avoid the answer to that question, Helena found her knees buckling. Sirius held her up and helped her into a chair. There were still no tears; her eyes seemed to have been filled with sand in fact, so she simply stared into space while he shoved a fresh mug of tea into her hand. When she took an unfeeling sip, she coughed a bit—he'd put firewhiskey in it to calm her unquivering nerves.

"How?" she asked finally. "How can they be dead? They're…purebloods. Voldemort needs purebloods, why would he order their deaths? A-and Mother? It says she might have hanged herself! God, Padfoot, how could- Why…?"

He pulled her into a hug which she didn't need. She wasn't crying. "What happened? What in the hell happened?"

Sirius seemed surprised when she looked at him in expectation. "I don't think there's any way to know, Hellfire. I mean, doesn't look like the Enforcement Officers have got any idea. Without catching a Death Eater I don't think there's any way we can-"

She stood and headed for the door. "Well, let's get dressed and do that then, yeah?"

He caught her wrist. "No. No way, Helena, stop."

She swallowed and glared at him, knowing it wasn't his fault. "Sirius. I need answers. These are my parents."

He sighed and looked away. Then he nodded. "Okay. Then we need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yeah. The Order's got to know more than the Prophet, or what's the point of them?"

She nodded. "Sirius… What if this was my fault?"

He stopped. "What?"

"Well, this happened after yesterday, and both Mother and Lucius failed to do what he wanted," she elaborated, not needing to identify 'he', "so what if this was punishment-"

She cut off as Sirius turned away suddenly, his fists clenched. It wasn't just the muscles of his arms that were taut; because he was still naked she could see the tenseness ran through every line of his body. His shoulders rose and fell quickly. For one second she was actually a little frightened. "Sirius?"

He spoke over his shoulder. "Helena, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Those people, all of them, betrayed you at every opportunity they had. Yesterday Veronique tricked you into the clutches of six Death Eaters in Knockturn Alley. Those six Death Eaters were led by Lucius. They tried to kidnap you, take you to Voldemort and do God knows what to you. You would probably be dead by now if they'd succeeded, or wishing you were." He turned around, voice shaking now. Helena saw his grey eyes glittering in the morning light. "So how dare you think you owe them anything, much less your guilt? How dare you even begin to?"

She shook her head and went to him, tears in her eyes now. He buried her face in her hair and let out a short, frustrated sigh. "Christ I got it right yesterday didn't I? You are so stupid sometimes… Are you suggesting we should have let them take you?"

"Of course not, but…"

He kissed her hair. "Come on. We need to go and see Dumbledore."

The head of the Order of the Phoenix had been expecting them apparently; within ten minutes after they'd sent their owl to Hogwarts, the fireplace had flared to life, a scrap of parchment lifted on the emerald flames. Sirius snatched it from the air and read an address from it. "It's from Dumbledore."

"What does it say?" Helena asked. She knew she was pale and had dressed roughly, but at this point she honestly didn't care.

She showed it to her. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Castle Westmoreland, the Highlands of Scotland."

"The Headquarters?" she blinked. She hadn't been expecting that. But then why not? They were both members after all, she thought, glancing down at where her anklet glimmered around her leg. "And another castle? Wow, he must really like them…"

He gestured for her to enter the fireplace first; when she did, the first thing which greeted her was a suit of armour, steel finely polished with a shield on the shoulder. On it was a coat of arms: a lion surmounted by three diamonds, all painted in yellow and black. The armour leaned down and offered a chivalrous hand to help her out of the fireplace. She took it, then looked doubtfully at the empty helmet. Did one express gratitude to a suit of armour? Deciding to err on the side of caution, Helena nodded to it. "Thank you."

It saluted, and returned its gauntlets to the pommel of the sword stuck in the base. Helena touched the crest on its shoulder, wondering where it came from. Not one she'd seen before anyway, and unfortunately she'd been forced to learn most of them as a child.

"It's from my mother's side of the family," a crisp voice said from the end of the corridor.

"Professor!" Helena exclaimed, staring in surprise.

Minerva McGonagall was standing in the hallway, looking…exactly as she always had for as long as Helena could remember. Straight-backed, hair in a tight bun, robes extremely neat and set of her mouth prim. There was no hint of a smile on her face, though there was some worry around her eyes.

"You needn't refer to me as 'Professor' any longer, Miss Malfoy. You are no longer a student after all."

That was as may, but the idea of calling her 'Minerva' made her insides shrink. There was the a draught of warm air at her back, and Sirius came into the fireplace. He had a similar reaction to Helena. "Bloody hell, Professor!"

She noticed McGonagall did not extend the same invitation regarding her name to Sirius, and only beckoned to the pair of them to follow her. She strode through the corridors with her usual efficiency, setting a brisk pace that even though they were both taller, they had trouble keeping up with. The castle they were moving through was not as large as Hogwarts, was still fairly impressive. It was much sparser in its furnishings than the school had ever been.

"Professor, you know what you said about the coat of arms," Helena ventured, "is this your house?"

"It is, during school holidays."

Explains a lot, Sirius mouthed to her. Helena rolled her eyes, though he was right. It was…grim, that was the only word for it. The walls were made of dark granite blocks, with tiny, whistling holes in some of them. A few of the holes were as big as her hand, and the wind screeched through them. Occasionally they came to a large tapestry which covered what Helena suspected was a rather larger hole in the wall. Finally, after a trip down three spiral staircases and about half a dozen endless corridors, McGonagall led them to the bottom floor, and an enormous hall, decorated with antlers and even what looked like a dragon skull mounted on the wall. At the far end by a huge stained-glass window, was Dumbledore. McGonagall stopped and allowed them past her.

She touched Helena's shoulder briefly. "I'm sorry about your parents, Helena."

She nodded, tightness in her throat. "Thank you."

She carried on to Dumbledore and Sirius, hearing, "…course I didn't. D'you think I'd be that stupid?"

She frowned. She'd heard Sirius be cheeky and rude to every teacher in the school, bar the two who were in the hall with them. And his tone was with redolent with bitterness now. Dumbledore had no reply for that, and only greeted Helena, again with condolences. Helena waved them away before he could finish. "I just need to know what happened, Professor. Surely the Order has a better idea than the press."

"Yes."

"Then please."

"Perhaps we should-"

"We should tell her the truth," a voice growled from the shadows. Helena and Sirius both jumped as with a clunking noise, Moody detached himself from the corner. They both jumped again when his face came into view. The eye socket which had been ruined was now full again, though with a false, wildly spinning eye that was a vivid and electric blue. It looked freakish, mad. Moody grinned at the expressions on their faces. "What, don't you like it?" he laughed harshly.

"Helena!"

They all turned to see Lily and James pelting into the hall, hand in hand. Lily skidded to a stop just in front of the brunette and took her hands. Her expression was full of compassion, and she opened her mouth but didn't seem to know what to say.

"It's alright, Lily. I'm here for answers, same as you." On that note, she turned to Dumbledore again. "Professor, please."

Dumbledore nodded. "Your parents were both murdered."

"Both of them? So- So Mother didn't…"

"No. It was designed to look at way, and I am reasonably confident that the authorities will come to that conclusion, as they are meant to. We have no evidence to suggest otherwise; this is mere conjecture on my part. Though your parents were murdered, it's not my belief that they were killed by Voldemort, though it may have been on his order. Helena, had you noticed anything strange about your mother's behaviour the last time you saw her?"

"Well…she was very friendly. More friendly than normal, and there were lots of dears and darlings flying about. And she couldn't—God, I didn't think anything of it—she couldn't say words that related to family, like 'daughter' or 'mother'. I think she tried to say she was proud of me as well for my NETWs, but it was like the words had gotten stuck. Do you think she couldn't say it because she was fighting the Imperius Curse?"

"That is my belief, yes."

"But why would she-" Helena broke off and paced a bit. "So…in order to get her to lead me into a trap, the Death Eaters put her under the Imperius Curse to force her to do it? She didn't want to?"

Moody cleared his throat loudly, mismatched eyes glaring meaningfully at Dumbledore. Helena looked between the two of them. "What? She did want to?"

"Course she didn't," Sirius said from behind her. "She must have been forced into it. Right, Professor? Helena wasn't her favourite kid but she's still her daughter."

Helena felt an increasing sense of bewilderment. There was something going on here that she did not understand, like there were two conversations taking place instead of one. There was an invisible line connecting Dumbledore, Sirius and Moody, two against one. From the energy emanating from the headmaster, he was definitely winning. But still, that fury she'd seen in Sirius earlier was back again full-force. He obviously thought he was protecting her from something. Which was very sweet…but she didn't need it.

"In either case," Dumbledore continued quietly, "it would seem that she was under the Imperius curse—Abraxus' curse. And that she broke through it once she was back at the manor. She then killed him."

Lily conjured a chair and Helena sat down, forcing herself to think clearly, through the now-shouting emotions raising hell in her heart. "Okay. So then where did the Dark Mark come from? Only Death Eaters know the incantation. Mother wouldn't have known what to say, even if she did want to make it look like someone else murdered Father. So someone else then took revenge on her?"

"Yes."

She looked up at him. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Lucius."

Helena's shoulders bowed. Lucius. Even she hadn't thought he could go that far. But then, if he could kidnap his sister to send her to torture and murder, why couldn't he kill his mother out of revenge for killing his father? "So Mother kills Father. And Lucius, what, strings-" Here her voice broke momentarily, and she couldn't stop it shaking as she continued. "Strings her up and kills her slowly, then puts the Dark Mark above the house and 'discovers' the bodies later?"

Dumbledore nodded somberly. Helena put her head back in her hands and tried to steady her breathing. It wasn't that she'd miss them terribly suddenly, and there was no montage of every pleasant moment they had ever spent together running through her brain—death hadn't softened anything. But for as long as she had memories, those memories involved her mother and father. She didn't sit straight enough, she ate too fast, she didn't try hard enough in her studies, she spent far too much time with undesirables…but it was always her parents' criticism. And now they'd just ceased to be. A constant she'd been cut from.

Sirius crouched down in front of her. "Hellfire?"

She shook her head, and he pulled her to his chest. Helena found her heartbeat slowing and her breathing calming rapidly. She pulled herself together quicker than she thought she'd be able to, and pulled away from his after a few moments, looking at Dumbledore again. "Are you sure you don't have enough evidence?"

"None that the Ministry will not be able to explain away."

"But you have clout, Dumbledore," she said, feeling strength rise from her chest somewhere, "you have friends high-up. You could convince them to investigate Lucius."

"Perhaps."

"Then you should," she said, voice ringing with conviction now. "You have the means; you've no excuse not to use them. I want that bastard brought to justice. Even if she was never kind to me she still didn't deserve to die, much less at the hands of her own son. Help me."

There was a ringing silence throughout the hall. Everyone was staring at her, and Helena felt her cheeks flame as she realised she'd just delivered a command to Dumbledore. She'd just given him an order. She didn't back down though, and she didn't look away. Dark blue eyes met light blue squarely. Finally Dumbledore nodded. "I'll do what I can."

All the fierce energy drained out of Helena, and she smiled weakly. "Thank you."

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked, a little sharply, as if to remind Helena of how disrespectful that had been. She nodded, and he continued with, "While you're all here, I have instructions to give to you. Helena, Lily, I need you to be on the lookout for any patients with unexplained injuries. Things that they're not willing to talk about or give stories you suspect might be a Death Eater. Take a note of their names and pass them to the Order as soon as you can."

She and Lily exchanged a look, both of them thinking of the oath they'd already taken to protect patient confidentiality. And then they both nodded. "Of course."

"Good. Sirius, James—the same. Alastor is of course doing the same, but six eyes are better than two. Though that may no longer be the case," he added with a little smile to Moody, whose mouth did not change from its grim set. "You two must be even more vigilant, I'm afraid. Anyone at the Ministry you feel is acting suspiciously, report back to me. Do you understand?"

They all nodded, and soon after headed back to Helena's. Tea had only just been distributed when Helena said decisively, "I want to go to the funeral."

"Not happening," came at her from two different directions. On her left and right, both the Marauders in her kitchen were sat with arms crossed, stubborn expressions on their faces.

"Why?" she demanded. "They were my parents, I have a right!"

"You're still not going."

"You don't have a right to stop me, Sirius!"

"Watch me. I swear, Helena, I will tie you to the bloody bed for the rest of your life if you go within ten miles of that funeral."

"Stop it!" she snapped. "Stop trying to protect me from nothing at all! Even if the Minstry hasn't arrested Lucius they were still my mother and father. What part of that is so difficult for you to understand?"

Pushing her chair back with a screech, she stood and stormed out of the kitchen. Only Lily followed her, and caught up to her at the bottom of the garden. Helena turned on her with an accusing finger. "Something is going on, Lily! Something is going on that those two are not telling me and I am bloody sick of it!"

"Helena-"

"James must have told you something," she said suddenly. "Surely." When Lily looked hesitant, Helena grabbed her hands. "Please, Lily. Please."

The redhead bit her lip. "I don't know much, Helena."

A/N: So, will Lily crack? Answers on a postcard please! Review please!