Chapter Forty Eight

Despite the horror of what had happened to Lily's parents, the fugue of inaction quickly returned when there were no further attacks on the Potters. As the year dragged on, the strain began with the spine and radiated outwards until Helena's entire body felt like it was screaming. Tonight was no exception for either of them, so she did what one of them had done for many nights now, and turned to her husband. Sex had become virtually the only relief they had, so when she leaned in to give him a testing kiss, Sirius responded instantly with desire and purpose. She straddled his lap, their mouths meeting heatedly again. She dropped her mouth to his neck, draping kisses down his chest and stomach. It was obvious what her intended destination was, but Sirius said hoarsely, "Turn around," before she got there.

She did so, the two of them stretched in a sixty nine and worshipping at the altar of the other. The orgasms took no time at all for either, but it wasn't the end of the sex, not by a long shot. The hours needed filling, and they had imagination enough – and a copy of the karma sutra in the house – to fill them. As well as the climaxes, they were driving each other to fatigue just for a chance to get some rest. Three a.m. found Helena on top of Sirius, her back to his chest and their legs intertwined, both of them tired enough that the position made for slow, sexy fucking that crowned tonight with at least some tenderness.

Physically exhausted now, Helena felt able to close her eyes at last. Still, sleep was a long time in finally limping through her brain. The next morning she woke long before Sirius, having had a maximum of three hours' rest. She thought idly about transforming into her eagle form and flying above the stirring city, but Sirius would kill her if she went without him. He'd come with her, she knew, if she asked, but looking at him now … His hair was clean, but slightly too long, there were at least four days' growth on his chin, and purple-grey circles under his eyes. He got even less sleep than she did these days, so she elected to leave him that way, and got up quietly. She went to take a shower, spending long minutes under the steamy spray in a vain effort to loosen her muscles. It didn't work, and scrubbing her limbs with a washcloth, she stopped and glared at the reason why.

The Dark Mark stared back at her, empty eye sockets mocking and cruel. "What are you doing?" she demanded of it.

Don't you know? the skull asked. Can't you guess?

She knew. Or she could make a very good guess. A better question would have been: what are you waiting for?

Because that was Voldemort's advantage, ultimately. Patience. He could afford to wait. Afford to lay long-term plans. Rarely had to counter, rarely had to react. Never had to compromise or negotiate. Never had to cooperate. Had no problem manipulating and torturing. Enjoyed both. She had no idea what Voldemort had been like as a young man – didn't even know what his birth name had been – but she would have put every knut she owned on him being a Slytherin, and his school reports stating: He does not rush into things. He excels in casting long and complicated magics. He had turned patience from a mere quality into a weapon, and he was wielding it very effectively now.

"Well known fact," she muttered. "Gryffindors have no patience. Give us a battle and let us charge in any day …"

That was what Voldemort was doing. He was denying them battle, depriving them of the chance to do anything. Driving them slowly mad. It was easy to imagine. Sirius and James, broken into desperation and stupid with courage, bursting into action, throwing themselves against massed ranks of black-clad Death Eaters. They'd take some of them down, maybe even all of them down- But then there would be the Dark Lord himself, and for all their talent and shining strength, they would fall. Voldemort would sweep them away with one great curtain of sickly green light.

Blinking, Helena physically shook her head, dissipating the daydream. It bloody better be a daydream, she hoped. She really didn't need the 'gift' of prophecy to add to her woes. As she turned off the shower and wrung the water from her hair, Helena tried to turn her thoughts down a more practical route. Alright, so they couldn't go and launch an assault on Voldemort. So if outright, direct opposition was out of the question, then there had to be something they could do to at least sidestep Voldemort's intentions. She knew he could be surprised …

Inspriation – true, brilliant inspiration – struck quite suddenly. Within fifteen minutes, she was dressed and on her way to Godric's Hollow. It had been taken off the Floo Network, obviously, thanks to an Order contact at the Ministry, so after leaving a note for Sirius she changed into her animagus form and flew there. It wasn't particularly quick, but since there was exactly one person who knew she could take another shape, it was the safest.

She landed in the back garden mid-morning – not that anyone else could tell it was the back garden. An extraordinarily well-crafted Disillusionment Charm had been cast over the whole house (McGonagall's work), so that the whole thing looked exactly like the wildflower meadow behind the house. Helena had put in the idea of using previous visitors to Potter Cottage being allowed in. There was a nexus web over the garden and house that would have delivered a powerful electric shock if she'd not been the person she pretended to be.

At the back door she made the special knock; Lily's idea, it was a tune called 'Shave and a Haircut', whatever that meant.

She waited for a few moments and made sure that her hands were away from her body and open, showing she was unarmed. Lily opened the door, her own wand tip pointed squarely at Helena. "Morning."

"Morning."

"Nice day."

"Looks like rain later."

"Maybe not. Cloud looks like it's breaking up."

Lily relaxed. "Come in, Helena. I'll make some coffee. Harry, no, sweetheart, you can't go outside …"

Lily made a grab for her toddling son, but Harry put a burst of speed on and managed to dodge her grasping hands. He ran into an obstacle in the form of his godmother though, who grabbed him by the ankles and promptly lifted him up, upside-down. He shrieked with laughter and didn't protest when Lily shut the door. While she made the coffee, Helena spent the time by tickling Harry mercilessly and blowing raspberries onto his cheeks.

Setting two steaming mugs down – on a bookshelf and out of reach of little fingers – Lily gazed at her son with a sigh. "Poor kid. He's desperate to get outside. I'm going slightly stir-crazy myself."

"I thought the defences covered the garden?"

"They do, but …"

"But?"

"I'm paranoid. James keeps telling me it should be perfectly safe. We're Unplottable, practically invisible, impenetrable … There's no logical reason why I shouldn't take him into the garden. But knowing there's Voldemort focusing on Harry and Harry alone-"

"Harry alone?" Helena asked sharply. "I thought he wanted to take over the country!"

Lily clamped her mouth shut, and with an audible snap, though Helena didn't have to be a Legilimens to hear her thinking, Bugger.

"Lily?"

"Look, the- The taking over the country thing might still be what he wants, but …"

"But?"

"I can't tell you any more than I have, Helena, I'm sorry."

There was a silence as Helena's mind turned over all the unpleasant implications of what Lily had let slip. "Alright. Okay, fine, maybe the why doesn't matter – I've been thinking."

"So have I. I think direct opposition isn't going to work for us."

"Great minds think alike then, I've had the same idea."

"Really?"

"Really. I know it's going against all our instincts to run away but it might be the only viable option if things carry on like this."

"Exactly! Except there's no point in running away if there's nowhere safe to run to, but there has to be somewhere safe."

"Well, that's the thing. I had an idea a while ago but I didn't get a chance to mention at the time. Nowhere magical would be safe, but that doesn't have to be a problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort holds muggles in contempt. If he thinks of them at all then he thinks of them as subhuman and there for entertainment. Sorry," she added guilty at the look on Lily's face, "but that's something we can take advantage of. It would never cross his mind that any witch or wizard would voluntarily give up magic and choose to live as one."

"And that's what you're suggesting?"

"Yes, essentially. As a muggleborn, you have knowledge of the muggle world that neither I, nor James, nor Sirius can. As someone loaded, I have access to funds we'd need to-"

"To set up safehouses!" Lily finished.

"Exactly."

"Multiple safehouses, all over the world if we want them, in places Voldemort would never look! Helena, that's genius! I'd had similar ideas but I was thinking about a caravan we could tow around Europe or something, not-"

"Well, that might still be the safest option. If you're always on the move then it'll make you harder to track, but … well, it's not really a life is it?"

"No, no it isn't, but this could be amazing! And you're sure you're ok with us using your money like this?"

"What else am I going to spend it on if not the safety and security of my best friends and my godson?"

"Have you told Sirius?"

"No. And I don't think you should tell James."

The excitement faded from Lily's face. "You think …"

"I trust them absolutely. I don't trust the others. I can't."

"I know Sirius has a problem with Remus …"

"Remus is one possibility. Then we have Mundungus Fletcher, McKinnon, anyone else you care to mention with the possible exception of Dumbledore. I trust James and Sirius. I don't trust who they might talk to. All it takes is for the wrong rumour discussed in the wrong pub or office, and we're done."

"I think so too, sadly."

"So: you and me then, and no one else. We discuss it with our menfolk as and when the need arises."

"Agreed."

"So, got an atlas?"

"Uh … somewhere I think. Hang on."

Lily disappeared for five minutes, and came back with a huge book about a metre long, the dark brown leather cover slightly musty smelling. "This has been in James' family for ages, centuries probably."

She opened it to the globe view, the ocean currents swirling gently, and moving images of animals that might be found on each continent. It was a beautiful thing to own. There had been a similar book in the library at Malfoy Manor, Helena remembered. A wonderful thing for a child dreaming of better places to look at. Now, of course, she was doing just that again: dreaming of far-off places and daring adventures.

"So … where would you like to live?" Helena asked with a shaky laugh.

Lily blew her cheeks out. "Would it be stupid to just shut my eyes and point randomly?"

"Go for it. We'll choose two each."

"Alright, um …" Lily's green eyes shut, and she stabbed with her index finger, the paper rustling on impact. Then she opened her eyes. "Wow. Brazil. Suppose I need to start learning Portuguese."

Helena noted it down and then closed her own eyes, mimicking the action Lily had just taken. Her choice was in the United States. "Arizona."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Ok, well safer from Death Eaters I suppose, maybe not so safe in other ways …"

"Why?"

"Guns. The Yanks really like their guns."

"What's a gun?"

Lily waved her hand. "Another time, Helena, I'm not sure I completely understand it myself. Muggles are weird. Got that written down?"

"Yes. Your turn."

Lily's finger slapped down in the middle of a large expance of blue. "Pacific Ocean. And not anywhere near land. Try again. Ah, India."

Helena noted it down. Her last choice landed them in China. "Ok, that's our four."

"Do you think four will be enough?"

"It should be. Don't you think?"

Harry disagreed; he decided to get in on the map-stabbing, and smacked a little hand down in Europe. Lily laughed and kissed his cheek. "Alright, darling, we'll add France."

"Works for me!" Helena said cheerfully. "At least I won't have to learn the language from scratch."

Sirius was twitchy. The lack of action was killing him; at work, if there was an opportunity to raid a Death Eater lair or hunt a lead, it was a cool breeze on a stifling day, the only relief he got. If it turned vicious and dangerous so much the better. Walking away from a fight that had nearly killed him was an utter rush. He kept thinking: Maybe this will be enough. Maybe if they deprived Voldemort of enough of his followers then he'd just pack up and leave everyone Sirius loved alone. And even if it wasn't then he was still alive right now, and he'd still killed them, and he'd still won- He deliberately hadn't told Helena just how many ridiculously dangerous assignments he was volunteering for. More than volunteering – he was saying yes before the words had even left Mad-Eye's mouth. Anything to do something.

At home he threw himself into study with a zeal that he'd never demonstrated at school. He devoured spellbooks and practiced spells so enthusiastically that McGonagall would probably faint if she saw him. This particular evening, he'd decided was an Entrail Expelling curse sort of evening. He'd walked into Smithfield's meat market that morning and purchased an entire cow with incomprehensible paper money, but which seemed to be adequate. He'd taken it to an empty warehouse in London's Docklands area and was now firing spells at it. Nothing like experience to get to grips with a spell. The cow was on a meat hook hanging upside down, its tongue lolling out and its eyes white and stark in its head. The odour was beginning to get strong.

The curse shot out of his wand like he'd hurled it physically, and impacted the cow's abdomen perfectly. The cavity burst open with a wet splitting sound, and vital organs spurted out in chunks. Sirius went to inspect it more closely. It was an ugly, unnecessarily horrible wound to inflict on someone. Perfect for Death Eaters. He did it another four times before he was happy with the carnage he'd produced, and then headed home.

In the kitchen, he discovered Helena had baked enough food to feed about eight thousand people. Everything from huge, rustic loaves of granary bread to dainty, brightly-coloured macarons littered the kitchen work surfaces. There wasn't space to swing a kneazle. Or put a wine glass.

"Er, Hellfire, what? Are you catering a wedding and you haven't told me?"

"What? No, I just- I just need to keep my hands busy, you know?" she said, turning around. Her eyes widened in horror. "Padfoot, what the hell happened? Are you alright?"

"What?"

"The blood on your robes?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine, that's … cow."

"Cow?"

"I've been practicing curses."

"Which ones?" she asked with a look of disgust.

"Entrail Expelling."

"I see." She paused. "Good day?"

"Not really. You?"

"Not really."

Silence.

"It's driving me mad, Hellfire."

She smiled curtly. "It's driving you mad? Do you not see the huge amount of food here? There's not a royal banquet as far as I know. You know what's in that?" she asked, pointing at a stand mixer whirring away. "Cream. I'm making my own butter, that's how bad it is."

"Then shall we just get out of here?"

She smiled fondly. "We've talked about that before."

"I don't mean forever, just- Let's just take the bikes and get out of the city for tonight. You've got enough food here, we could pack some up and just drive till we find a hill with a view to watch the sunrise on. What d'you say?"

"You had me at the bikes."

Just ten short minutes later, they were speeding through London's streets, dodging traffic in a way that was probably highly reckless but which was expedient at least. It seemed no time at all before they were out in the countryside. This time of year, nearly the end of October, it wasn't light past five. Tonight the sunset was deep golden in a red and purple sky. Once the sun's disc had sunk below the horizon, stars began winking into existence above them. Night had well and truly fallen by the time they pulled over, in the middle of nowhere on top of a hill. The nearest building was a farm, at least a mile away.

They spread out a blanket on the grass and reclined on it. Sirius felt more relaxed than he had in a while, far away from everything, even the orange glow of London's streetlights.

Helena turned onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow, smiling at him. "Better?"

"So much better."

"Good. Hungry?"

"Thirsty more. Any butterbeer?"

They had a picnic under the stars and relaxed. It felt like the early days of their relationship, where they were as open as the sky with each other and just as clear. They talked about everything and nothing; about school days and books and the places they'd travel when they got the chance.

"The Caribbean first."

"Yes … A white sandy beach, turquoise ocean … palm trees."

"Coconuts?"

"And rum, naturally."

"And rum."

"Just no transformations. I don't think a great black dog would do too well in that heat."

"Probably not. Nor would an eagle, come to think of that."

"Do you think we should- What's that?"

With a start of dread, Sirius sat up and looked where Helena was pointing. A silvery shape had appeared at the bottom of the hill, glowing through the darkness and questing this way and that. Looking for them.

"It's a Patronus."

It spotted them and ran up the hill with supernatural speed, quickly coalescing into a shape Sirius recognised. A stag. "Prongs."

Stopping six feet away from them, the stag stopped, James' voice echoing from its spectral mouth. "They've killed my mum. We need you."

A/N: I've gone on the basis that a Patronus could track down its recipient wherever they were, without the wizard casting necessarily being aware themselves. Review please!