A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And thank you to my beta, CC.

Chapter Twenty Four

Sirius added another block of wood to the fire and sat down cross-legged opposite Helena. She frowned. "I don't understand why it needs to be so hot. Why can't we open a window?"

She went to get up to do just that, but his hand on her forearm stopped her. "Trust me. You're uncomfortable right?"

"Very."

"Good."

"How is that good?"

"You need to be uncomfortable in your own skin, in order to make it easier to escape into another one. A form which is new, cooler, will be more appealing to your instincts. Both they and your brain need to be working together on this, otherwise that first transformation will never happen right."

Helena nodded and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then lifted the mass of her hair away from her neck in an ineffectual effort to cool her skin. They were both already naked, having come down from the bedroom about twenty minutes before this. There was no possible way to cool themselves down. Not until she did this.

"Okay, go for it."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah. You've done all the preparation you can. Close your eyes, picture the bird and push against the barrier until you break through. It's in there, Helena, you just have to pull it out."

She nodded and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. He watched her apprehensively, having no idea how she would handle this. When he'd done it, it had been mostly bravado, approaching it like a dare, not losing face in front of his mates. He'd thrown himself into it with, what seemed now, stupid abandon. It had all worked out all right in the end, but when watching someone he cared about do it, he knew he should have been more cautious. So much could go wrong, and it worried him that it could go wrong with Helena.

It didn't seem to be going wrong, though—in fact it seemed to be going very right. Her toes, resting under her knees, were lengthening, thinning while the nails sharpened and curved. Her middle toe disappeared completely as her big toe twisted out of place, swivelling around to the back of her foot. His gaze moved up her arms now; by her wrists, skin covered itself in feathers while her forearm widened, thinning. Her shoulders moved backward, dislocating with fairly grisly noises. The process seemed to get faster once her wings were in place, and within another ten seconds she was there. The last thing to go was her face; nose and mouth merging together to erupt in a hooked beak. Once the change was complete, she regarded him calmly.

Well, he'd been right. She was graceful. Her eyes were still blue, which would be her distinguishing mark he thought; a deep, soft cobalt where they should be yellow and glaring. She was an eagle; massive, taloned and hook-beaked. Golden plumage caught the firelight, glittering when she flapped her wings with great, slow beats. The movement seemed to take her as much by surprise as it did him; with a whistle of distress, she did it again, but too fast and too powerfully. She overbalanced, and not knowing how the tail worked, or how to keep her clawed feet, fell backward. Distressed, she carried on flapping her wings and screeching.

If she carried on like this, then there was a chance she could forget how to come back again, who she was.

"Helena. Hellfire, calm down."

He kept his voice low, and hearing it, the frenzied flapping calmed slightly. He kept repeating her name, to bring her back to herself. By the time he approached, she was completely still, knowing that she needed help to right herself.

Keeping his hands and face clear of those wickedly sharp talons, Sirius knelt at her side and grasped her body as gently as he could. The feathers, while those of an adult bird, were downy soft and delicate. He righted her as gently as he could, stroking her head with two fingers. "You're beautiful."

He moved back to sitting opposite her. "Now you have to change back. You'll be able to test your wings and everything else later, Helena, for now you have to change back before you forget how. The first transformations are the hardest, after this you'll be fine."

She bobbed her head in something which could have been a nod.

"It's the opposite process. Think about how being human feels. Think about brushing your hair. Think about writing with a quill. Eating. Your friends. Remember the feel of your wand in your hand."

Slowly, she began to shift form again. Her wings, folded against her back, moved forward and down slightly. Her legs elongated and thickened, the talons retracting into toes. For a second she wavered; her skin became feather-pattered once more as the beak separated out into nose and mouth, but then she prevailed. The feather-patterns faded, and finally hair flowed down her back again, and then there was a fully-human Helena standing in front of him.

When she swayed, he jumped up to catch her. "Dizzy," she whispered.

"It'll pass. The process takes a lot of energy at first. You need to get some rest."

She shook head head, still clinging to his shoulders. "I want to do it again."

"Tomorrow. You need to rest."

She shook her head and tried to walk, only to stumble. Sirius caught her and then scooped her into his arms without leaving any room for argument. He carried her up the stairs to her own room. By the time he put her in bed, she was already half-asleep. He pulled the covers over her and kissed her forehead. She grabbed his hand before he pulled away though.

"Stay?" she murmured sleepily. "Please?"

With no chance of refusing, Sirius smiled. "You'll have to shift over then."

She wriggled left, and then wriggled right again almost immediately once he'd gotten into bed. With her hair covering his chest in a cool silkiness, she gave a sigh and said, "M'favourite person…know that?"

He smiled. "Keep a secret?" There was no answer; she was already fast asleep. He kissed her temple. "You're mine."

The smell of bacon and eggs woke Sirius from sleep the next morning, and he opened his eyes to see a tray of breakfast on the bedside table next to him. Along with an eagle with the Daily Prophet in its beak. He took it when she held it out to him, then changed back and slid back into bed.

"You were right, it was easier the second time."

"You tried it by yourself?"

She winked. "No. I succeeded by myself."

She leaned over him and snaffled a piece of bacon from 'his' plate, munching it with none of her usual ladylike grace. It occurred to him that maybe him moving in had been bad for her. For her table manners at least.

"So pretty confident then?" he commented through a mouthful of toast.

"Mm-hmm. I do have a question though. How do I learn clothes? I mean obviously you can choose to take your clothes with you but I've got no idea how? I mean, are they even clothes, or are they…part of your skin?"

"No, no, they're still clothes, still made out of material. Skin clothes would be…weird."

She looked relieved. "Oh good. How do you take clothes with you then?"

"I think you should focus on perfecting the transformation first. You need to be able to do it within ten seconds. Death Eaters pursuing you need to turn a corner and find you gone."

She nodded. "Alright. Who should we tell, d'you think?"

"At them moment, no one."

"Not James or Lily, or Dumbledore?"

"No. The fewer people know, the safer you are. And besides, even Dumbledore doesn't know about me and the others. How would we explain you?"

"Fair enough. No one finds out."

When he went to lie down again, Helena shook her head. "I know it's Saturday, Sirius, but we both still have things to do, remember?"

"Shit, really?"

"Unfortunately so."

"I still think the plan to run away together is watertight." He frowned, propping himself up on his elbow. "And to be honest I think going to Godric's Hollow at all is a bit stupid. One of your best friends is getting married, it's the first place the MLEOs will look for you."

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"I might be. What if I am?"

The next second he found himself pinned underneath Helena, her body the length of his. "Dangerous."

Between her warm thighs, his cock twitched, and an unwilling grin spread across her face. He leaned up slightly, touched her nose with his. "How dangerous?"

She nuzzled along his neck, up to his ear, then nipped his ear lobe with her teeth. "Very."

He took her legs in his hands, putting them either side of his body, one leg in between both of hers. She moved her torso down to his, finding his mouth again. He ran his fingers through her hair, stirring the air with violets. Helena's tongue teased his, drawing a low groan from him. She moved her hips up and down, rubbing herself against his thigh until moisture leaked onto his skin. Lining herself up, Helena let him pull her down onto his cock. She moaned loudly, her blue eyes closed in pleasure. He bucked up into her as hard as he could, was rewarded when her eyes snapped open, locking on his.

"Not slow," he said lowly, biting her bottom lip briefly. "Not gentle. Not today."

She smiled, gaze lit with promise. He groaned as she clenched around him. In the next movement she slammed her pelvis down, causing him to go deeper than ever into her, brushing against her cervix. Their hips met with bruising force, then again and again. He sat up, clutching her back and digging his fingers, marking the skin there. Helena did not seem to care, or else she was digging her fingernails into his shoulders that hard out of revenge. Orgasm was too close to care about that though—together, he and Helena climaxed, loudly and with great zeal.

He collapsed back on the bed, pulling her down with him with both of them breathing hard. Lost in post-orgasmic bliss, Helena murmured something he did not quite catch, but the warmth and emotion in her tone made his heart beat faster anyway.

Half an hour passed before either of them felt the inclination to move, and then it was Helena, and only then reluctantly. "I have to get up. Lily'll go kill me if I'm late."

"Yep, probably."

A pause. "There's so much to do."

"Yeah."

"You going to be alright on your own?"

"I'll be fine."

"I'm still not moving, am I?"

He tightened his arms around her slightly. "No."

She chuckled and kissed him. "Let me go."

He did so, then watched as she moved around the room, gathering some belongings into an overnight bag. "I don't see why you have to go the day before the wedding."

"To make sure the bride sleeps," she quipped over her shoulder. "We can't have her with bags under her eyes on the wedding photographs, can we?"

"That would be terrible," he said, rolling his eyes.

"It would for her, trust me."

Dressed now, she picked up her bag—far too small to hold everything she'd put into it—and put it over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure James isn't late, won't you?"

"I will."

She kissed him goodbye and disapparated. He glanced at the time, knowing he should get dressed too. The idea was that Kensington and Godric's Hollow would swap residents for one night. Helena would go there and James would come here, just to avoid the bad luck that would inevitably follow if James accidentally saw Lily before they were both in the church.

Sure enough, half an hour later, there was a knock on the door, followed by the sounds of it creaking open. James came into the kitchen with a frown on his face. "Not very secure, Padfoot."

"It's only enchanted to let in people it recognises. Everyone else it's locked for. You touched it when you knocked on it."

"Oh. That's clever."

"Some Charm Helena found. Have a drink," he said, throwing James a butterbeer. "So…last night of freedom."

"It's not really. All that's going to change tomorrow is… Lily's last name."

Sirius nodded, regarding him for a moment. "You're sickening, you know that?"

"I'll remind you of that when it's your turn."

"Sorry, mate, already got you beaten on that one. I'm under a strict vow not to marry Helena, remember?" Sirius smirked.

"Who said I was talking about Helena?" James asked, his own smile now widening.

There was a silence in which it took almost all of Sirius' cool not to blush, and then James sighed heavily. "What?"

"It's just going to be weird. Without…"

"Your dad?"

James nodded, swallowing hard. They had buried Jasper more than a fortnight ago, but understandably there still hadn't been time for anyone to adjust to his absence. They had decided to leave an empty space for him on the front pew, so that he would be there at least in spirit. "Sometimes I think…I want him to be a ghost somewhere, y'know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just to see him and talk to him and for Mum not to be so lonely all the time. But I know how selfish that is."

"It's not selfish."

"Yes, it is. Fine when I'm around, fine while Mum is, but after that? When we're both dead, he'd be stuck. Forced to wander this plane without ever having any chance of true release. I can't wish that for him. He's moved on to where he should be."

Another silence followed—there was nothing Sirius could say, no way he could do more than sympathise. He'd never had a supportive father. Admittedly, most of the actual vicious bullying had been done by his mother, but Orion Black had never stepped in to put a stop to it. Never spoke a word in his son's favour. Had not, in the final six months of having Sirius in the house, spoken more than a dozen words to him.

"Alright," he said suddenly, and loudly, "it's the night before your wedding and you aren't nearly rat-arsed enough yet. So drink up."

"Lily, there are no pockets in this dress," Helena complained the next morning.

She was stood behind a screen in Lily's bedroom, changing into her bridesmaid gown. It fitted well, off the shoulder and deep blue, with a light blue sash which wound around the middle.

"Why would you need pockets?" Lily asked, tone puzzled.

"Where am I supposed to put my wand?"

"You're not going to be attacked, Helena. All the aurors in Britain are coming to this wedding."

Helena suppressed a snort. She wasn't going to place her faith in them—or at least not all of it. There was nothing wrong with them, she knew that, and she was equally sure they were all highly capable, but she still had a sense of foreboding about this wedding. Something was going to go wrong. And in those circumstances it would be stupid to go about unarmed. Finally she decided just to stick it down her cleavage and hope it wasn't going to fall out.

Dressed, she emerged from behind the screen and smiled at Alice. "All yours."

They had a production line going—Alice had just finished having her makeup done, Lily's hair was being coiffed, and Helena dressed first. Now it was Lily's turn for the makeup and Helena's turn for the hair. Lily's dress would, naturally, be the last thing to go on. For now it hung up on the back of the wardrobe door, the beads on it glittering invitingly. Helena sat down at the dressing table, and the brushes and combs leapt up by themselves, smoothing the frizz from her hair and sweeping it up into an elegant knot.

About forty-five minutes later, they were all ready, polished to perfection. Lily was just getting into her gown now, Mrs Potter lacing the back up. "Are we sure we're all ready?" she asked from behind the screen.

"For the…seventh time, Lily, yes," Alice sighed.

"Has anyone seem my perfume bottle?" Helena asked, frowning. She was sure it had been on the dressing table.

"Here," Alice said. She held the small, clear bottle out to Helena. The brunette took it, and it joined her wand down the bodice of her dress. Alice raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to put it on?"

"Later," Helena smiled. "I'll need something to cover all the sweaty dancing."

"Well?" came Lily's voice. "How do I look?"

"Like an angel," Alice smiled.

"You look gorgeous," Helena agreed. "Come on, let's get down to the church. It's eleven now; it'll take us five or ten-"

"You mean we're late?" Lily demanded, green eyes suddenly wide in horror.

Mrs Potter smiled, patting her hand. "You're the bride, dear, you're supposed to be late."

"Oh. Right. I knew that."

"Of course you did. Come on, it's going to take us about five minutes to get there."

The church was literally across the road from the cottage, and it seemed like the whole village had shut down for the wedding. There were no cars, no evidence of a muggle presence anywhere in fact. The sun was shining, there was only a light breeze and the birds were signing. Helena wasn't sure, but she felt there was a fair chance she'd stepped into a fairytale. She even forgot her feeling of anxiety.

Until the figure of St Peter, welcoming them into the church, blew up. Sharp stone splinters raining down on them, Helena swore. "Bastards!"

Without waiting for any more spells to be shot at them—though there were lots of them—Alice and Helena propelled Lily and Mrs Potter into the vestibule, then used the thick walls as cover. Alice did a head count of the Death Eaters while Helena yelled for help. She wasn't subtle about it.

"Padfoot, get the fuck out here!"

He did, along with James, Remus, Frank, Kingsley Shacklebolt and about eight other aurors. "How many?" Frank demanded of his wife.

"Fourteen. Looks like Malfoy's leading them."

"Malfoy?" Helena demanded, standing up to get a better look. Sure enough, her brother was directing the other Death Eaters. He also shot a spell at her, missing by inches when Sirius grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her down. "That son of a chimera!"

"No point in asking what they're after, I suppose," Remus said, with a glance at Helena.

"Plan of attack?"

"How many of us are there? Capable of fighting with any competency, I mean."

"Out of all the guests—twenty? Twenty-five?"

"Enough to surround them."

"Or we could split them up," James suggested. "Take them on in small groups?"

Helena nodded, agreeing instantly with him. The fact that it worked best for her had nothing to do with anything, of course… "So who takes who?"

Not ten seconds later, most of the congregation burst out of the church, wands up and firing spells in every conceivable direction. It was carnage, confusion and chaos everywhere she looked, all coalesced into one graveyard. She had no idea what the magics were that were being spat out of the end of her wand, only that most of them were spells of such potency she might have feared to use them under any other circumstances. More worryingly, some were verging on the incantations the Death Eaters were using—dark magic.

Determined that she was going to kill Lucius if she got the chance, she was darkly thrilled to find him suddenly in her path. And then suddenly the Entrail Expelling Curse was blossoming out of her wand. She knew there was no way for him to block it—but he managed it anyway. He grabbed the nearest Death Eater by the sleeve and yanked her bodily in front of the curse. The front of Helena's dress was splattered with blood and gore as the woman was eviscerated in seconds. It would take her several minutes to die, but the fight didn't last that long. With twenty five against fourteen, it could only ever have ended one way. Soon Lucius found himself at the end of Helena's wand anyway.

Panting, she looked around the cemetery. There were, that she could see, ten dead, at least four of them the good guys. Lily was over by a large stone angel, kneeling on the grass and with her wand out. Helena couldn't make out who they were healing, only their legs.

She grabbed the nearest wizard and pointed at Lucius. "Don't let him move an inch." Without waiting for an objection, she ran over the bride. "Anything I can do?"

"No, but I think I saw Kingsley hit, find him."

He had been hit, and was bleeding from a wound on his leg. She fixed it quickly, and he nodded to her. "Thank you, Miss Malfoy."

"Call me Helena."

She got up, moving back over to Lucius with her wand out. When the tip of it was pressed against his throat, she reached into her dress to pull out her 'perfume'. "Open wide, brother dear."

Sirius noticed, and frowned as she pulled the cap off. "What is that?"

"Veritaserum," she replied flatly, before administering three sprays to Lucius' open mouth.

"Helena-"

"Why does Voldemort want to kidnap or kill me?"

"To see what you know," was the emotionless reply, "or to remove a threat."

"To see what I know about what?"

"About his plans."

"Why would I know anything about his plans?"

"There may exist a telepathic link between you."

"Why?"

To the onlookers, Helena appeared almost as emotionless as the Death Eater she was interrogating—but her heart was pounding, and there was a loud rushing noise in her ears.

"Because of your relationship."

"I do not have a relationship with him!" It was not a question, therefore Lucius gave no answer. Helena took a deep breath before continuing. "What kind of…relationship, does Voldemort perceive exists between us?"

Sirius' hand closed around her forearm; he tried to tug her away. She twisted out of his grasp. "Answer me!"

"There is no perception."

"Alright, then what is-"

"Hellfire, don't. Please."

"What is-"

"I am begging you."

She was startled by the note of true pleading in his voice, even more startled by the real fear in his eyes. Then she shook her head. "Padfoot…I have to know." She turned to Lucius again. "What is the relationship which exists between Voldemort and myself?"

"A paternal one. He is your father."

There was a complete and sudden silence among the guests. Helena felt everyone's gaze move from the Death Eater to her face. For her part, she only looked at the bottle in her hand. Yep. Still Veritaserum. "Say that again," she ordered softly.

"A paternal relationship exists between you. He is your father. You are the Dark Lord's daughter."

The bottle fell from nerveless fingers onto the grass. She did not blink when Lucius was tied up and led away. Then a touch on her shoulder. "Hellfire?"

She looked up, and everyone facing her flinched, taking a step backward. The fear on their faces was unmasked, naked. A sudden anger reared up in her; these people knew her—at least two dozen of them had gone to Hogwarts with her, another dozen worked with her! It would almost serve them right if she did curse them!

Fear, though, fear and disbelief and horror overwhelmed everything else—and then immediately the urge to flee. Acting on it, she ran. The crowd parted easily for her, and she kept on running through the churchyard, not hearing the stunned chatter that burst from the guests as soon as she'd gone, not hearing the shouts of her friends after her. When she tripped over a low gravestone, and went sprawling, it dawned on her that simply running across Godric's Hollow would not get her far enough. She needed to be somewhere…empty. Somewhere free. Somewhere she could acknowledge and be rid of the monster now clawing at her chest.

She just about caught a flash of Sirius, charging after her, grey eyes luminous with fear, before she disapparated.

A/N: Alright, I know I said there would be big revelations in this chapter, but by the time I got this far it was over 4000 words and this way, we have something to look forward to for the next chapter, right? And don't worry, you're not going to be reading a repeat of last time.

Review? Please?