A/N: Well, the prophesised internet has let me down. BT man can, BT man fitted BT line, but did not connect it to BT network. Which other BT men will come and do tomorrow. Sad face me :( Anyhoo, I'm jacking someone else's network (sssssshh!) to get this to you. So enjoy!

Chapter Twenty Eight

Not for the first time, Sirius was extremely glad that he could apparate. Travelling by floo all the time would have made getting to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix difficult because of the way it could be tracked. Especially since he didn't fancy flying to Scotland every night. Apparition, though, took very skillful magic to follow. And as far as he knew, none of the aurors who were not already members of the Order possessed such magical knowledge.

Every member was meant to check in every twenty four hours, both to have their true identity assessed and to give any updates they might have. It was a rule—like every other rule he'd ever encountered—that Sirius had trouble adhering to. Normally there was nothing whatsoever to tell Dumbledore or Moody, and his identity could be verified in a matter of a few seconds, a personal question here and there. Plus the fact, if anyone else were to take his place, Helena would know within ten seconds of the impostor walking through the front door, just as he would her. And if Helena didn't spot it, then James would. This was a waste of time. Time that could be much better spent elsewhere.

Because of this, he was already in half a bad mood when he arrived at Westmoreland Castle. It was not helped by the sight that he was greeted with. He'd apparated at the other end of the great hall from the fireplace, with only a small noise, so his presence went unnoticed at first by the four people stood by the great stained-glass window. Dumbledore, Moody, Moony and Helena.

They were all sat closely, heads together and speaking in hushed tones. They looked like they were conspiring something. Auror instincts on the alert instantly, Sirius kept to the shadows, not wanting to move for a moment. He couldn't hear what was being said, but the tone was furtive, and he'd been trained too well to ignore that. Could he get closer? Cast an Extrasensory Perception Charm on himself? Probably not; Dumbledore would pick up any on such magic, and then how would that look, if he was caught spying on the very head of the Order? It would turn dangerous into stupid. Or stupid into dangerous, one of the two.

In any case it seemed not to matter now, since the group was breaking up and heading this way. At least, Helena and Remus were standing and bidding farewell to Moody and Dumbledore. The two of them got into the large fireplace and disappeared, leaving his friend and girlfriend alone. Helena slowly put a hand to her head, looking immensely weary.

Remus put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"No," she said. "There seem to be so many…too many…secrets we're keeping. I keep waiting for the day they all come out."

"They'll forgive us, when they do."

Then suddenly her face crumpled as if she was going to cry, and then his arms were around her. The anger and, well, hatred that suddenly bubbled up in Sirius was unexpected. It was nothing, just one friend comforting another. But no one else was supposed to comfort her. She wasn't supposed to go to anyone else for comfort. She wasn't supposed to need to. Why was she?

She certainly hadn't needed to last night, when she'd woken from a nightmare. That had been half the reason for his not wanting to come to Westmoreland in the first place tonight; he wanted to go home and check if she was okay. She hadn't been this morning, even if she was trying to convince both of them that she was fine. Not after she'd woken up crying. And continued crying for some time afterwards, so hard that she couldn't breathe properly and had no idea what was happening or even where she was. She'd held onto him as if he were a life raft, the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of horror. He hadn't managed to hear everything of what she was saying, and what he did didn't make sense. Eyes which watched her, voices which spoke to her, curses upon her. And then, when some measure of sanity had returned to her gaze, she had gone to sleep apologising to him.

And now she was going somewhere else, telling truths to someone else? Revealing secrets she couldn't tell him? Couldn't, he wondered now, or wouldn't?

Over Helena's shoulder, Moony's surprisingly sharp eyes spotted him in the gloom, and he beckoned Sirius over. He and Helena let go of one another without haste, which oddly helped soothe whatever paranoia had been in Sirius' head. There was no guilt in either of their faces, and the spasm of pain which crossed Helena's face when she saw him was the same one which had crossed it every time she looked at him over the last few weeks. She even kissed him, taking his hand.

He kept tight hold of it, looking at Moony. "So what's going on this month for the full moon? Neither me nor Prongs have heard anything from you about it."

He wasn't sure what he expected, but the lack of surprise that Remus displayed at Helena's knowledge of his condition somehow just pissed him off even more. Nor did he look abashed at the lack of contact kept with his friends. "No, I've…I've got other plans this month."

"Other plans?"

"Yeah. Oh, and would you do me a favour and tell James? I'm really busy at the moment."

"Busy doing-"

"I'll see you soon though. How about a drink, Friday at the Cauldron?"

Before Sirius could say anything, he'd thrown a handful of floopowder into the fire and left in a haze of emerald flame. Sirius dropped Helena's hand as soon as he'd gone. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"With Remus and Dumbledore, Moody? I've been involved in enough clandestine conversations to know one when I see one, Hellfire."

She shrugged. "They just wanted to speak to us both."

"Why both of them?"

"Something to do with what we're doing for the Order."

"And what is that?"

"Same thing you're doing!" she replied, looking confused as to why he was so angry. It made him angrier. She didn't have the right to look confused. She should just know why, even if he didn't. "I'm keeping a look-out for potential Death Eaters as well as potential members of the Order! Like the Weasleys, remember?"

Molly and Arthur Weasley had joined the Order not three days ago, with Helena recommending Dumbledore contact them. She'd delivered—or helped deliver—their twin boys a few weeks' previous. Apparently during the birth, Molly Weasley had screamed a lot of things at a lot of people. Including threats against any and all Death Eaters who tried to attack her or her family.

Sirius, however, wasn't happy with that. "No, when James and Lily and myself and everyone else gives evidence and other stuff to Dumbledore, we do it with everyone else, in a group, we share information. What is that you're doing that the rest of us aren't?"

"What are you accusing me of?"

"Nothing, there just has to be something-"

"Why?" she snapped.

"Because I know there's something you're not telling me. But apparently you can tell Remus, whatever it is!"

She suddenly went quiet. "What do you mean?"

"Well you seemed to be pretty cosy earlier," he sneered, almost immediately regretting it.

An expression of intense pain now took up residence on her features, and her hands were suddenly shaking. "Believe me capable of anything, Sirius, anything at all. But never believe I would betray you like that. Never."

He sighed. "I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Good. Because if you did then you clearly don't know me at all."

"I'm sorry."

She nodded and came to him. He buried his face in her hair and held her tightly. "I love you, Padfoot. And I always will. No matter what happens." When he went to say the same, she cut him off with a deep kiss, wrapping her arms around him. "Let's go home."

When they did, she didn't cease in her urgency, tugging at his clothes with so much haste that it actually took longer for them both to get undressed than it would have done had they taken their time. When she pushed him back onto the bed, straddling him and ripping open his shirt, he took her hands. "Stop."

She blinked. "What? Why? I thought you'd want to-"

"I do, but lately it feels like we've just been about fucking."

"And you don't like fucking me anymore?" she asked with a frown. "It isn't fun anymore?" She poked her skin. "I don't attract you anymore?"

"It's still fun," he said quietly. "And believe me, I'm more attracted to you now than ever."

"But?"

"But we're more, aren't we?" he asked gently, pulling down the pins that held her hair up, and smoothing his fingers through it, lightly massaging her scalp. "Than we used to be?" he kissed her neck slowly, "It's not something apart from our lives anymore, is it?" then her mouth, lingeringly, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth briefly, "You and me." He pulled down the zip at the back of her dress, trailing his fingers down her spine. "This is it, right?" She moaned and tilted her head back. "Right?" he asked again as he lifted the dress off.

Helena looked at him, liquid softness in her eyes. She nodded slowly. "Right."

She pushed him back onto the bed again, this time coming with him. He unhooked her bra and pulled the straps slowly down her arms, then off completely. She arched her back into his hands as his thumbs skimmed her nipples, to be replaced by his mouth and tongue. He slid her underwear down as she pulled his jeans off. She glanced up at him, as if to reaffirm how slowly he wanted things. His reassurance came in the form of a deep, languid kiss. She did not break it as she lifted herself up slightly, then pushed down. Her breath escaped in a long hiss as they joined.

"Sirius…"

The began to move, in tandem; rise, fall, rise, fall. There was still a desperation in her movements, in her muscles, but it eased slowly. Pleasure made her soft, pliable, replaced troubled frowns with happy sighs. Angles became curves as they continued, for hours, days it seemed, discovering forgotten corners of each other. His final crest of pleasure did not come until well into the dawn.

Afterwards, Helena lay in her arms like she'd been born to be there. She'd fallen asleep as soon as she'd fallen still. For once, her face in slumber was smooth, untroubled. He just hoped it would stay that way. A nightmare-free night was rare now. And he still didn't know why.

Voldemort had decided it was time to introduce Helena to the rest of his gang; he did not give her name, since most of them had already been dispatched at one point or another to kidnap and/or kill her. Nor did he give any explanation as to why she was there. Helena didn't make an attempt to stare them all down, and only sat indolently, lazily, as if her seat were the most comfortable in the room. No one's attention was on her for very long anyway—as soon as Voldemort spoke, he had everyone rapt.

"Avery, Oakenshaw, what have you discovered?"

"She has very little protection, master. No auror and only a few spells; anti-apparition and the like."

"There is, however, a way to alert the ministry in the event of an attack, my lord."

"What?"

"A portrait, in her office."

"Of?"

"We've not been able to determine that, my lord," Avery said hesitantly.

"But it is the only one?"

"Yes, my lord."

"And her home?"

"Her- Her office is in her home, master."

"But it is the only way for the ministry to know what goes on there!" gabbed Oakenshaw quickly. "Anywhere else in the house we will have free rein! We could do anything-"

Voldemort held up a white hand. "Enough. Find more information about the spells protecting the house; their names and functions. You have three days to report back. Go now."

"My lord."

"Master."

The both stood, bowed, then disapparated. Helena wondered what house they were talking about, who 'she' might be. Why was there only one way of contacting the ministry? Any magical household in Britain would have at least three…

"Leave us."

She looked up; Voldemort's eyes were on her. The rest of them disapparated, Bellatrix the last to go. She looked more than disappointed at being supplanted as the Dark Lord's favourite. Helena managed a small smirk in her direction. Bellatrix's eyes widened in rage for a moment, then she, too, disapparated.

"Who were you talking about?"

"Someone I intend to suppress and bring under my control," he answered. "A muggle."

"A muggle?" she repeated, shocked. "What muggle could be so important to be worthy of any of our notice? Is she the Queen?"

He smirked. "Not quite."

"Then who?"

"When the time is right, you will accompany me to her house. See for yourself then."

She blinked. "That's it? No other tests? Or is this simply another one?"

"The last," he said softly. "You may go."

She remembered to bow this time, and the word slipped from her mouth. "Father."

With it, nausea so violently strong that it nearly blinded her shoved its way up her throat from her now roiling-stomach. She managed to get far to Westmoreland Castle—or the grounds, at any rate—before vomiting so forcefully that she had to drop to her knees. When she eventually managed to stagger to her feet, she almost immediately fell again. Dizziness came at her in waves; all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and wait for it to pass. Thankfully, after a while, it did. When it had, she got to her feet again and took a shuddering breath. Perhaps this was more than just the reaction to Voldemort.

Slowly, she forced herself to list her symptoms, going through them as a Healer. Nausea. Dizziness. Strange mood swings. There were several things which could cause that; dragon pox for instance, though she'd never met a dragon in her life. A Cold Curse, which few wizards bothered with and which was usually used by students experimenting on class rivals, but it fit. Except she had no runny nose, no sore throat. She had not ingested any strange liquids, and no potions. So, none-magical causes then. There was the obvious…

Helena stood straight. "Shit."

Well, before she went to that conclusion, she had to report to Dumbledore. Pushing aside her suspicion, she went inside the castle. The headmaster himself probably would not be there, but possibly McGonagall might be.

However, she found both Moody and Dumbledore in there. They looked up when she came in, and she smiled despite herself. "Don't you two ever sleep?"

"Rarely. What do you have, Helena?"

"He—I suppose I mean we, since he's said he'll take me with him—is planning to 'suppress' someone, a muggle. Wouldn't tell me who, when I asked, though when I jokingly asked if it was the Queen, he said that it was someone like her."

"The muggle Prime Minister is a woman," Dumbledore said. "Margaret Thatcher."

"Anything else?" Moody asked.

"He sent Avery and Oakenshaw to gather more intelligence about what protections she had. Apparently there's only one way to contact the Ministry from her office."

"It is the Prime Minister then."

"When is he planning to attack? What did he mean by suppression?"

"I've no idea. And I don't know why he's targeting her. Of course I'll tell you more as I know it."

They both nodded. "But that's it for now?" Moody demanded.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Helena. You should go home and get some rest."

She looked out of the window, at the grey tinge of dawn hanging on the eastern sky. "Too late for that, Dumbledore. I've got work in an hour. Who needs sleep anyway, right?"

Helena left soon after that, heading for home for a large dose of caffeine and then to work. She did not hear Moody and Dumbledore continue discussing her after she'd left.

"She should not be doing this. We should not be letting her do this."

"You know as well I as do we don't have a bloody choice," Moody growled. "She's fine. Information she gets is valuable and has been proven reliable. You want to take her out now, leave us blind?"

"No," admitted the older man, "but I worry for her."

"She's not a student anymore, Dumbledore."

"You don't think she is my responsibility?" he frowned.

"By law she isn't. And if memory serves, she volunteered to protect the people she cares about. Not going to argue that's poor motivation are you?"

"Of course not. But I don't think she realises that doing this may cost her those people even if it keeps them safe."

There was a silence. It was true, but the wizards were on opposing sides of that fact. Dumbledore would far rather Helena simply be happy, even if it made her a less effective weapon. To Moody, it was simply a price to be paid. Being alone was the only way to ensure complete safety. The greater good always trumped personal pleasure. As the quiet stretched on, it became obvious that some—any—small comfort was being sought. All Moody had to offer was, "She won't always be a spy."

Helena heard nothing of this, and she made her way through the working day in a haze of fatigue. She made a few mistakes, and the ones that she did make, Lily was always there to correct them for her. It was a system they had had since starting as Junior Healers together, and it worked well even now.

But by the time their shift ended, Lily asked her, point-blank, what the matter was. She didn't tell her all of it. But she told her the most pressing bit. "I think I may be pregnant."

"Oh bollocks."

"Yeah. No. I don't know. Maybe bollocks. Maybe not. And I don't even know if I am-"

"Well…do you want to be?"

"No," Helena said immediately. "One day, maybe, but… This whole relationship is too new. We only just sad 'I love you' to each other a few weeks ago, and as far as I know I'm basically the only girlfriend Sirius has ever had. I can't drop a bombshell like this on him."

Lily nodded. "Okay…but what if you are?"

Helena paused. "I just have to hope I'm not." She cleared her throat. "So what about you and James? Any patter of tiny feet going on?"

Lily shook her head. "Not yet. We've talked about it, of course, but raising a family in this climate of fear—raising a family when Death Eaters could come down on us at any time—just wouldn't be fair. The Order needs us, and a baby would too. It would be selfish of us to start a family until this war is over."

"Maybe."

Lily shut her locker and turned around, pulling her wand out. "So shall we get to it then?"

"What? No!"

"I thought you wanted to know-"

"I do, but not here! Merlin's beard, Lily, anyone could see!"

"Okay…shall we go back to yours then?"

Helena shook her head. "Sirius could be there."

Lily checked her watch. "He should be at work."

"Yeah, but there've been a lot of times he should be somewhere and isn't, hasn't there, Lily? I don't want to risk it."

"Alright, then what do you suggest?" the redhead asked, dropping her arms.

"I don't know…isn't there some muggle way of telling if you're pregnant?"

"Yes, actually. It's a bit messy, but it works."

"Great—can we do that then? Can we go out into London and buy a couple?"

"A couple?"

"Well yeah, I've never done it before, you're going to have to demonstrate."

"I really don't think you want me to, Helena."

"Why not?"

Lily explained how muggle home pregnancy tests worked, after which Helena changed her mind and decided that she in fact didn't need a demonstration. But that didn't mean that she trusted muggle science either. She was pretty sure that a urine-soaked stick wasn't going to be able to see into her womb the same way magic would be able to. Still, she was willing to give it a go—as long as Lily did one too, as a test. Lily's would come back negative, so she could be sure of her own result when it came. They left through the muggle entrance of the hospital and headed to the nearest muggle pharmacy. Lily bought the tests, since Helena didn't think they'd take galleons, and they then found a public toilet to do the test. Helena made sure it was empty before she brought her wand out and swept the place clean. It was a little less than hygienic before she did, but sparkled once she'd finished.

She took a test dubiously from Lily. "So I just…pee on it?"

"Pretty much. And then we have to wait two minutes and it'll tell you."

Helena's eyes widened, looking more closely at the test. "It talks?"

"No—it'll just come up with one pink cross if you're not pregnant, and two if you are."

"Okay. Wish me luck."

Still feeling incredibly doubtful, Helena took the adjoining cubicle from Lily's and took the test as quickly as possible. She stayed in the cubicle once she'd finished, tapping her fingers and biting her lip anxiously. What if she was? Could she have a termination? She could…but not without talking to Sirius about it. Not a decision she had the right to make alone, after all. She swallowed as a thought struck her—what if he wanted to keep the baby? All the reasons Lily had listed as to why she and James weren't going to have a family right now swirled through her head. They were all valid and applicable to she and Sirius. If a couple whose relationship was so much more advanced than theirs could not want to have children, then surely they couldn't decide to? Of course, the decision could very well have been taken-

A pink cross had appeared. Helena stared at it, willing another one not to. After another thirty seconds had passed, none had. Her breath left her in one long whoosh, relief coming in waves.

"Well," she called cheerfully, "I'm not pregnant!"

There was a pause, then a small, shocked, reply. "I am."

A/N: Review please!