A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! And thank you to CC, my beta, and LordFrieza, for all his help too :)

Chapter Twenty Five

She knew he'd find her, so she didn't keep running. She didn't really want to anyway. She just needed space to think. To feel.

As a result, she was stood on a mountainside, in the highlands of Scotland. If she could have done, she would have gone to the only place she was sure of safety and protection: Hogwarts. She had even tried, though she knew it was pointless. Still in transit, the castle's shield had simply bounced her back. So now she was on the other side of the lake, opposite the school and breathing in the cold mountain air as deeply as she could.

There was a quiet cracking noise from behind her, the sound of Sirius' heavy breathing. "Helena!" As soon as he realised how close she was to the edge though, he stopped.

"So: this is why."

Why the explanations from her friends had never made sense. Why she had never fit in with her family. Why Father- Why Abraxus Malfoy had given her a pay-off. Why her parents had been murdered. Why she could brew potions perfectly after the first time reading the recipe. Why she could tackle spells she shouldn't have been contemplating at her age.

Why, for a moment there, she'd wanted to curse the living daylights out of those brainless idiots who were scared of her.

"Helena?"

She turned to him with a bitter smile. "That was the first time I'd ever brewed Veritaserum, you know."

"Come away from the edge," he said quietly.

She glanced over her shoulder, the gulf of three hundred feet yawning for her. "Don't worry, Padfoot, I'm not going to jump."

"Then come away."

She smiled again, but didn't move. "Not sure I want to do that either."

Warm fingers suddenly grasped hers. "Tough."

She looked down at his hand as he pulled her a safe distance from the cliff. "How can you touch me?"

"Don't be stupid."

"No, I mean it. How can you?" she asked.

She was more morbidly curious than anything. She didn't feel horrified anymore, or even very afraid—but she knew that anyone in their right mind would not be touching her with a ten foot broomstick right now. He should be reacting the way the wedding guests had.

"I already knew."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Dumbledore told both me and James in July. The first time they tried to take you."

"And how long had he known?"

"I don't know. But he did tell you."

"And is that why I tried to kill myself? Why we were no longer friends, as you said?"

"Yeah. You were being noble," he replied with a little ironic smirk.

"I was being a coward," Helena contradicted. "I won't be again."

He let out a huge sigh and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I thought you were going to-"

She shook her head and hugged back. "I'm a Gryffindor, remember? We're not cowards." She paused. "Thank you for not telling me."

"You're not angry?"

"No. For once I see it was a kinder not to tell me. It's like…a nest of vipers in my stomach. Literally. I feel sick." She did; there was a twisting, coiling mass stabbing into the walls of her stomach, and snakes was the only metaphor she could make of it.

Sirius immediately conjured a red bucket for her to vomit in, but she shook her head and pushed it away, though she appreciated the gesture. But losing her control for even a second would be letting it win.

"You're unnervingly calm," he told her, looking nervous. "I'd sort of prepared myself for tears and shouting. I can't handle it when you're quiet, Hellfire, it's scary."

She smiled briefly, confessing, "I think part of me is screaming. But at the same time, it's an answer. The questions have stopped in a way, that hole has been filled in." Alright, it had been filled in by toxic waste, but still filled in. "I know who I am."

Sirius did not look comforted by those words, and she understood why. There was a strange tone in her voice she'd not put there, her face was in an expression she couldn't understand. She was…intrigued. Forcing that weird thought away, she turned around, her gaze finding Hogwarts again.

"I'm a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And he might be my father, but I'll fight him. I'll fight him until we win or I die. It's that simple."

"Until you die?"

She smiled—her usual, charming, disarming smile—and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm not planning on dying any time soon." She looked down at her dress, only just noticing the human mess all over it. "Damn." Getting her wand out, she siphoned off the blood and, well, intestine, then tried to adjust her hair back to being tidy. It didn't really work.

Sirius stepped forward and pulled out the pins holding the remainder of it up. "Leave it down. You look beautiful with it down."

"Come on. We need to get back."

"Helena-"

She kissed him, long and lingeringly. "Thank you, Sirius. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He squeezed her hand. "Never have to find out."

When they landed back in Godric's Hollow, there was no one else out in the graveyard except James and a frantic-looking Lily. When Helena and Sirius arrived, Lily threw her arms around Helena.

"Lily-"

"I don't care who your father is and I don't care how many Death Eaters come to get you the next time and please don't feel guilty that they picked today, because really all that matters is that the people I love are here, and I do love you, Helena, you've been my best friend since we left Hogwarts and I realised that I'd never told you-"

"Lily, breathe, for Heaven's sake," Helena interrupted firmly.

The redhead did so, though she didn't stop hugging. Having never ever been hugged by Lily before, Helena was at quite a loss as to what to do. Finally she settled on a pat on the back. "Um, thanks, Lily. All…nice to hear."

"You alright?" James asked her.

She nodded. "I'll be just fine."

"Good. Then can we get married now?" James asked. "Y'know, now that my best man's back?"

Lily took his hand. "Yes. Let's."

Helena took it out again. "Not to be a killjoy, but Lily and I have to come in after the pair of you."

"Right." James leaned forward, kissed his fiancée. "See you in a minute."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Sirius shoved the groom inside the church. "You're spending the rest of your life together, you idiot! You have plenty of time to look at her later!"

Lily smiled after them, then turned to face her bridesmaid. "Where's Alice?" Helena asked.

"Azkaban. She's an Auror, remember? She and Frank took the remaining Death Eaters to there as soon as you disapparated."

"How many were remaining?"

"Seven or so. We killed four of them and the rest disapparated before we could stop them." Lily pointed to the church wall, where Helena saw ten bodies, their faces covered with cloth, some white and some black.

"So six of us are…"

Lily nodded sadly. "Yeah. I wasn't sure if we should continue, but James insisted."

"Quite right too."

Lily smiled at that, but then paused. "Don't despair, will you? You always have us."

"Yeah, so Padfoot tells me."

"And you definitely have him."

"Lily-"

"Let's get me hitched, shall we?"

They did so, somehow managing to salvage a sense of romance from the ashes of the occasion. She suspected it had a lot to do with the amount of love that Lily and James were shedding, like light. It was impossible to ignore, or be oblivious to feeling it. In half an hour, doubt and suspicion had been wiped from the minds of all the congregation. When the ceremony was over, no one had any qualms about joining in with the reception celebrations.

After eating, everyone toasted the bride and groom, and then the new Mr and Mrs Potter took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife.

"Hellfire?"

Helena looked away from the newlyweds, beaming. "Yes?"

"You know you said earlier that you'd fight Voldemort until we won or you…died—but you get that you can't, don't you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Can't? What do you mean I can't?"

"Well they'll be targeting you every time now, without you exposing yourself with the Order. It's too dangerous."

"And since when has a little danger put me off?" she smirked, reaching for her champagne.

"Helena, I'm serious. You cannot carry on fighting with us."

"Then what am I supposed to do, stay at HQ and knit you socks?"

"Be fair, I'm not suggesting you do nothing, just that-"

"Actually that's exactly what you're suggesting," she interrupted, tone cold.

"Helena, I'm trying to protect you here. You were thanking me for it not so long ago."

"When I actually needed it, yes! I don't need you to play the dashing hero here, Sirius! I can take care of myself." With that, she got up, walking toward the exit of the marquee.

Sirius followed her, oblivious to the stares they were now attracting. "I'm not saying you can't, I'm just saying compared to all the Death Eaters and Voldemort you don't stand a chance!"

"Yes, because that's not overly dramatic at all!"

"Oh for God's sake, woman, don't be ridiculous—you'll just get yourself killed!"

"I am a far better duellist than you will ever be in your wildest dreams, Black!"

"This has nothing to do with ability!" he snapped back. "This is because you're-"

"Female?" she demanded. "You're confusing chivalry with chauvinism again, Sirius! I don't need your permission to fight for what's right-"

"I know you don't need my permission!" he roared. "I don't want you to go because if you do, you'll die!"

"Then I'll die! It's not up to you to decide-"

"Yes it is!"

"And why the hel-"

"Because I love you, you stupid bloody woman!"

The onlookers took a collective breath. Helena didn't calm down or breathe. "Yeah? Well for some completely unknown fucking reason, I love you too!"

"Brilliant!"

"Great!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They stared at one another for a few seconds, both of them breathing hard. Finally Helena spoke again. "What, so that's it? You just thought you'd yell it at me in front of all our friends? Steal James and Lily's thunder by doing it at their wedding?"

"I didn't mean to—but you're so sodding provocative you'd test the patience of a saint!"

"There's nothing remotely saint-like about you!"

"I never said there was!"

"Good!"

"Absolutely!"

More silence.

"So that's that then is it?" James asked finally.

Sirius glared at his best friend; Helena was still looking narrow-eyed at him. "Yeah, I guess that's that."

She started to leave, but the movement woke Sirius up. "It bloody isn't!"

Helena turned around just in time for him to grab her upper arms and kiss her hard. To say she melted wouldn't have really been accurate; she kissed back with just as much fire, raking her fingers through his hair and biting his bottom lip. It felt as though her blood had been set alight; euphoria racing through her, and it burned.

With her every cell spinning, her lungs aching through lack of air, Helena pulled away briefly. "I love you."

He didn't smile, but his eyes were dancing. "I love you."

"And it took you this long to tell me," she grinned. "Prat."

"Idiot."

She smiled, knowing she should be horrified at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, but actually not caring at all. "Shut up."

He did—but probably only because she was kissing him.

The next two hours were spent mostly outside the marquee (and at one point in a bush, another against a tree…), simply because they couldn't—as best man and bridesmaid respectively—leave before the bride and groom had. Unfortunately for the wedding guests, it had always been hard for them to keep their hands off each other, but now it was impossible. Helena felt almost as though she hadn't ever been with him before, not in the way she knew him now. She'd known him physically, now she knew him spiritually—it was the next step to know him in both ways, no? But that kind of lovemaking required patience, required time and solitude.

Finally though, they were released, by Lily and James, who'd had complaints from the other guests. Their smiles were kind, even if their words weren't so much.

They took the floo home, landing in a dark and silent house that seemed full of light and laughter anyway. She held her arms out for Sirius as he appeared in the fireplace, kissed him softly when he came to her.

He broke away with a wry smile. "This is weird."

She laughed. "God I'm glad you said that."

"It is though, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Letting it out, yeah. Feeling it is perfect. But telling you…"

"Tell me about it. Spent too much time hiding it. Mostly from myself."

She reached out and pushed his jacket from his shoulders, moving onto the buttons of his shirt. "Then don't tell me. Show me."

They took a leisurely route up to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes, divested slowly, in their wake. Helena never had a clear memory of any of that night—just flashes, dreams almost. A press of lips to her neck, her mouth melded to his, their bodies fusing together and the violent storm of pleasure that followed. She didn't remember breathing, didn't remember blinking because it would have been severing her gaze from his, if even for a moment. She wanted no barrier between them, no wall that was yet to be crossed. There were no screams that night, no shouts or cries. His breathing of her name in his climax told her everything she needed to know. And she, in turn, held nothing back.

By the time exhaustion had stilled their limbs—nothing else could—it was past two a.m., and with nothing to worry about for now, they both fell quickly toward sleep. Or at least, Sirius did. Helena was on the edge of slumber when an entirely unwelcome thought entered her head. A thought she had managed to brush aside for the last few hours.

The Death Eaters had attacked Lily and James' wedding. They must have known dozens of members of the Order would be there, even if they didn't know exactly who was in it. If they had done it once, were they not likely to do it again?

And she was more than a member of the Order now. She was Voldemort's daughter. And it wasn't much. But it might be a way in.

She looked at her lover's sleeping face, wondering how in the name of Merlin she could possibly be considering this. Ending her relationship before it had even begun—or if things got really bad, if she had to… How could he ever forgive me? she asked herself, feeling her stomach twist at the very idea. It was terrifying, more than she could stand. What if…what if she drove him so far from her, drove herself so far from his light, that she got lost? Lost in the dark, all alone.

Forcing herself to swallow back the fear, she repeated to herself what she had told him earlier. Gryffindors were not cowards. And yes, she could do irreparable damage to herself by doing this. But she could equally do irreparable damage to Voldemort, too.

Suddenly finding her decision made, Helena sighed. Then she snuggled slightly closer to Sirius. "I love you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead and sweeping his hair back gently.

Her stomach twisted when he opened his eyes and smiled at her. Smiled so trustingly, like there was nothing she could do that would destroy his faith in her. She only hoped that might be the case.

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do." He frowned, sitting up. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I… I just needed to hear it."

He smiled. "Then I love you."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. Please believe me, whatever you might hear, that I have to do it."

"What-?

She got out of bed and pulled on some robes—black ones, with green trim. A gift for her sixteenth birthday she'd not touched since. "I hope I won't be long."

"Where are you going?"

"To- To see Dumbledore," she said hesitantly, though it was true. "Don't wait up."

She couldn't apparate to Headquarters, as it was protected by the same spells as Hogwarts, so she went down to the library to use the fireplace instead. In a whirl of emerald flame, Kensington disappeared to reform as McGonagall's ancestral home took its place. There were two figures in the great hall when she clambered out of the fireplace: Moody, and Dumbledore himself.

The headmaster helped her stand with a kind—if slightly worried—smile. "Helena. Is there something amiss?"

"No. Well, nothing that wasn't wrong a few hours ago anyway. I just had a question."

"Only one?" Moody grunted, raising an eyebrow.

"Only one."

"Which is?"

"Can I help more than I am?"

"With the Order?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

"Yes."

"I don't believe so. Not without-"

"Spying for us," Moody completely, when it looked as though Dumbledore wasn't going to. "Are you offering?"

"If it'll help."

"Well of course it will! Believe me, girl, we need good, useable intelligence about these bastards! At the moment they're ten steps ahead of us at every turn!"

"Let me go in."

"Absolutely not," Dumbledore said quietly. "It is out of the question."

"Why? Anyone else, he will kill or have killed on sight. There's a chance of that happening to me, yes. But equally there is a chance that my arrival will evoke his curiosity. Long enough to keep me alive, anyway. Moody's right. At the moment we have nothing, not even an idea of what Voldemort is ultimately after. This may be our only opportunity."

Dumbledore sighed, passing a hand over his brow and looking as if his head was crammed with too many thoughts, all conflicting with each other. After a moment when he just sat, eyes closed and frown on his face, he opened his eyes again and fixed her in a light blue gaze. "Why do you want to do this? You have so much to live for, Helena. Why put your life in immediate danger?"

"Because I have so much to live for. Lily and James began a life together yesterday. And in a way I did too. What kind of future do they—do I—have like this? Can you imagine them raising children in a world dominated by dark magic? A Hogwarts where the only house is Slytherin? I can't make sure all of those things don't happen, Dumbledore. But I can at least help."

There was a silence, which Moody broke, nodding, "Can't disagree with you, lass."

"Helena: you have no idea what you are volunteering for. You have no idea what will be required of you."

"I'm under no illusions, Headmaster. I'm prepared for the horrors, believe me. But it's the lesser of two evils. I can do this, because I must do this."

Dumbeldore sighed, looking at last defeated. "What do you need?"

"Voldemort's last known location. And the body of the Death Eater I killed yesterday."

"Easily done," Moody nodded.

Ten minutes later, Helena had what she needed. The Death Eaters were in residence at Crabbe Court—a mansion outside Bath that had a selective anti-apparition field. It would only admit those who had set foot inside the grounds before. Thanks to a dreary garden party in 1972, Helena had been there before.

She apparated straight into the dining hall.

It was dimly lit, a few candles every ten feet the only illumination. And every seat was full. There were silver platters of food, silver plates and cutlery in front of the diners—all save one. At Helena's appearance, silence immediately burst forth. She had a fraction of a second, no more, before every curse in the world came hurtling at her.

She used it wisely.

Flicking her wand forward, the body she'd levitated alongside her slammed into the middle of the table and slid all the way along the shining wood. It stopped a few feet from the head of the table.

Helena met the dead, scarlet-slitted eyes that fixed on hers without fear, and smirked. "You didn't think of just sending an owl?"

A/N: Please review. I really need cheering up at the moment.