A/N I need to take a moment to thank Lexvida who left me the most amazing review on A03 at the end of July. It got me so gassed up I found my muse and over the last month, I am excited to say that I have finally finished this fic! I have the last scene of the EP left to write and that's it. The story itself is finished. I am planning on posting once or twice a week until it is all up. So thank you again, Lexvida. If you are reading a fic, a WIP and you don't usually comment, DO. Comments are so amazing to read and sometimes they just might be what gets your author going again. I hope you enjoy this last arc! It gets a little heavy so buckle up!

Chapter 35

As a pureblood wizard raised as isolated from the muggle world as any other, Kingsley had graduated Hogwarts with very little knowledge of what the rest of humanity was capable of. His tenure guarding the muggle Prime Minister then, had been something of a revelation. He'd seen handguns on the other security, even seen what they could do. Once they'd even toured a military installation for a muggle remembrance holiday. The overall impression had been that pushing the muggles to a conflict would end in tragedy for wizard kind.

He blamed the lack of decent Muggle Studies classes for the casual way their society dismissed their non magical fellow men. It was a potentially deadly mistake.

After his meeting with the Prewetts and their nuclear scientist, Kingsley felt sick. He was going to make it his personal mission to get the spells they were working with into the hands of the British Unspeakables. Their scientist had been insistent that they not share them, secrecy paramount to his own people's safety. Kingsley understood, but knowing how vulnerable they were to such terrifying weapons technology that was in the hands of most major muggle governments would keep him up at night. Granger's veiled assurances did little to ease his nerves. If his suspicions were correct, their plans could render anything she thought she knew null.

After their meeting, Kingsley had gone back and forth about what to do. Mere months ago, he would have gone to Dumbledore. Their plan was extremely risky, but if successful, it would end the war. When he still believed that to be Dumbledore's goal, he would have imagined the old man doing whatever he could to help.

Now, help was the last thing Dumbledore would offer the people he now viewed as rivals.

This left Kingsley with a rather pressing problem. The Headmaster had set four barely of age wizards to watch the Prewetts. If they managed to follow them to Malfoy manor, Kingsley could easily see them disrupting somehow, causing catastrophe.

He needed to find a way to convince the boys to ignore their orders. But they were eager and devoutly hung on Dumbledore's every whim. Only Sirius had any reason to doubt the old man. Had he shared his doubts with his friends or kept them to himself? If he had shared, would his friends listen to him?

Training hard to be an Auror, the young master Black happened to still be in the office that evening. Stepping out of the Ministry elevator and into the Auror office, Kingsley strode casually towards the trainee bullpen.

"Black." He barked at the younger man and indicated his own office door when he looked up. Sirius glanced around at his fellow Auror hopefuls and stood to follow. Once they were both safely ensconced, Kingsley waved his wand, locking the room and ensuring no one could eavesdrop.

"Kings?"

Clearing his throat and reaching into his bottom desk drawer for the bottle of fire whiskey he kept there for hard days, Kingsley eyed Sirius carefully. "Have you thought much about our last conversation?"

Sirius wilted. "Ya… probably more than I should do. Why? Any developments on that front?"

Kingsley shook his head and handed Sirius a glass. "No. Well…" He sighed. "Look. The only thing that matters right now is ending that dark maniac and all his followers as soon as possible. They've started attacking muggles. Anyone paying attention knows it's only a matter of time before they start picking off muggleborns and blood traitors. Unfortunately, Dumbledore prefers the long game."

Evidently taking his time to think, Sirius sipped his whiskey and slumped into the nearest chair. He stared into his glass for several long moments before finally speaking. "Ya, I noticed that." frowning, he looked up at Kingsley. "Why is that? Doesn't he realize we risk higher civilian casualties, magical and muggle, the longer we wait to go on the offensive? Never mind the babysitting gig he has us on, how many times has he had you or Moody or hell, himself actually do anything?"

Nodding, Kingsley set his glass on the desk and crossed his arms. "You're right. I want to think he means well. Dumbledore has always been a 'big picture' kind of general, or so says Moody. But it's getting harder to believe that with most of the decisions he's been making lately. That brings me to why I needed to speak with you."

Sirius sat a little straighter, expectant, almost eager.

"I need you to get your friends to stay away from the Prewetts."

"What? That's it?" The eagerness melted into indignation—a beat—and then suspicion. "Wait, why?"

"Would a simple, 'trust me' suffice?"

He scoffed. "You can't be serious?"

Kingsley couldn't help smirking. "No lad, that's you."

"Bollocks." Sirius scrubbed his hands up his face and groaned. "I walked into that one. But, aren't you the one that told me blind trust is dangerous?"

"Fair." How much could he tell him? It was one thing to encourage independent thought: sharing sensitive plans was something completely different. "They are planning something soon and any interference could mean catastrophe for the entire Isle."

Sirius scoffed again but when Kingsley didn't falter, he sobered. "They're going on the offensive then?"

He nodded. "And you need to convince your friends to back off."

Running a hand through his hair, Sirius sighed. "You're going to have to do better than that, Kingsley. You're asking me to convince my friends to disobey Albus Dumbledore. As far as they're concerned, the Prewetts are turncoats. Hell, they saved my life and I don't know if they should be trusted." He shook his head. "They'll go right to Dumbledore with this, and then whatever plan they have will be sure to be interfered with. What happened, Kings? Why did the Prewetts abandon the Order and why is Dumbledore so keen to know what they're up to?"

Kingsley sucked his teeth and thought quickly. The attack on the Burrow was as good as public knowledge as far as the Death Eaters were concerned, so there was no real danger in telling him. But then he'd want to know the why. The fact that there had been a prophecy could absolutely not get back to Voldemort. Helen and George hadn't said where they were from, there would be no memories of dangerous conversations. Her hints had given Kingsley ideas, but that's all they were. Eyeing the younger man, Kingsley decided to hope Sirius was as smart as he thought he was.

"Dumbledore's got it in his head that the new Prewett cousin and his wife are somehow key to ending the war." Sirius scoffed but did not interrupt. "He may have a more modern outlook for a wizard so ancient, but even he can't ignore certain signs." This time, the younger man frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Kingsley held up a hand for silence. "They have refused to work with him."

Looking mildly uncomfortable, Sirius glanced around the room as if searching for answers. Finally, he settled on, "But why? Are they working for the other side?"

Kingsley shook his head. "I think they were able to intuit what we're beginning to realize about his character. The rejection seems to have caused him to fixate." Sighing, Kingsley downed the last of his whiskey. "He tried to use their connection to the Weasleys against them. At some point after George and Helen arrived, Dumbledore paid the family a visit, stopping by their wardstone on the way out. Their main protection wards had been disabled. The Death Eater-specific ward was twisted into a kind of trigger so he'd know if they were attacked."

Sirius paled. "I… I don't believe that."

"It's true, unfortunately. I inspected the wards myself. That night, Dumbledore summoned myself, Moody and Longbottom. Said there was an attack at the Burrow and to get there at once. We arrived thirty minutes too late. Thank Merlin the four Prewetts had been there that night or they'd have been slaughtered." Kingsley rolled his empty glass between his palms before setting it back on his desk, doing his best to keep his voice even.

"There was an emergency meeting. The three of us, Dumbledore, the Prewetts, Arthur and a few others. I can hardly believe it, Sirius, but he admitted it. He claims he didn't intend for the Weasleys to be hurt and that his intentions were, of course, for the greater good, but…" He shook his head.

After a pregnant silence, Sirius spoke, his voice rough and disbelieving. "I don't understand… What could possibly be so important? Molly and Arthur aren't even in the Order, they've got all those little ones too. How could he…"

Kingsley stared hard at Sirius. Think, Black. "I told you, he thinks he knows something and he's fixated. Now, tell your friends whatever you need to, but stay away from them."

Gray eyes clouded with confusion, suspicion, and then finally a possible understanding. "Well… they've been pretty good at dodging us anyway. Without Auror apparition tracking spells, we'd never find them at all." He leaned forward, resting on his knees. After several moments of thought, he shook his head and sat up. "James won't want to go against Dumbledore. He's taking the whole thing rather seriously, like the Prewetts slighted him personally. I'll do my best Kingsley, but…"

"Convince him. I can not impress upon you enough how important this is, Sirius."

He held up his glass for more whiskey. Kingsley obliged.

"Can't you just give me a date? It would be easier if I just knew which watch to take."

"No." He shook his head. "No exact anything. If one of you were captured again and tortured for information, it would be over. This is too much already and the best I can do."

Sirius tossed back his whiskey, wincing at the burn, and stood to leave. "Alright, I'll do my best."

After the young Auror had gone, Kingsley sank into his desk chair and poured out another round for himself. He hoped the boy was a good enough actor to stay above Dumbledore's suspicions should he summon them any time soon.

GH

Sirius let himself into the flat he shared with James and breathed a sigh of relief to find his best mate was in. It was Pete staking out the Prewetts that night, he remembered. Glancing around and taking in the decidedly not tidied flat, he was doubly relieved not to have to worry about Lily.

"Oi, Pads, that you? Just in time!" his friend called out from somewhere in the flat, but did not show himself. From the clanging that followed, Sirius surmised he was in the small kitchen attempting muggle cooking again. What had begun as a bid to impress Lily fast became a pleasure for the house-elf raised pureblood.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he answered back and pulled off his leather jacket. This wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, but at least James seemed to be in a good mood. Following his nose through the flat, Sirius hoped they'd have something good to eat while they argued.

"What's my favorite house-elf making tonight?"

James turned from the cook-top, a frying-pan filled with some kind of sauce and parts of what looked like a chicken simmering nicely. "It's seared chicken with a white wine sauce or… glaze? I don't remember, but it's bloody fantastic." The self-satisfied grin he wore would have made Sirius laugh any other night

As he sat at the table—a high top with mismatched barstools—and watched James plate dinner, Sirius tried to think how to start. No matter what he said, this was going to be an unpleasant conversation. With the war and Dumbledore and tension so high, hopefully not friendship ending.

"There you go. Got the little bow tie pasta to go with. They're Lil's favorite, gonna have her round tomorrow night for dinner."

When he only stared down at his plate, James looked between his face and the food. "Something wrong, mate?"

Blinking hard, Sirius forced a smile and picked up his fork. "Looks good." In fact, it was. After a few bites, he felt more sure of himself. "Perfect, very posh. Lily will be impressed." Setting down his fork, he gave James what he hoped was a serious look. "Listen, I've been thinking and… I think we should back off the Prewetts."

James coughed around the bite he'd been taking, the choke turning into an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"Yea… I think we should stop watching them." He shrugged. "It's just, well, they were as dedicated to this fight as anyone. They hate You-Know-Who and everything he stands for. I don't believe they'd suddenly join his side. Surely they have a reason for leaving the Order?"

The incredulous laugh was now an equally disbelieving, open mouthed stare. "You're joking!"

"I'm not—"

"They're traitors! Dumbledore said—"

"I know what Dumbledore said." Sirius raked a hand through his hair, frustrated already. "But he's not infallible, is he? Maybe he said something, or… I don't know, did something that they didn't like?"

James shook his head, baffled. "Where is this coming from? Do you not… Do you not trust Dumbledore? He's the leader of the Light, Sirius. He defeated Grindelwald."

"Look, maybe it's just a little naive of us to put our blind trust in one man. Besides, you know how he is, all big picture, for the greater good."

Incredulity was now completely replaced with anger. "I don't understand what you're saying, mate. He's Dumbledore. All he's ever done is fight the Dark. The Prewetts abandoned him, they abandoned us. And what about their new cousin? We know nothing about him or his lady. For all we know, they're working with You-Know-Who and got to the twins."

Trying not to let his own confusion and frustration get the better of him, Sirius picked up his fork and took a few bites. "Look, there's something I need to tell you." With deliberate movements, he set down his fork again and picked up his napkin, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

"A few weeks ago, that weekend I took two nights in a row, remember?" When James nodded, eyes narrowed, he continued. "Well, they'd gone out for something and I followed. Unfortunately they had a run in with my lovely cousin and a few others. Somehow in the scuffle, before I could apparate away or call for backup, Bella saw me and decided I was more interesting than the Prewetts just then." He threw up his hands. "I was captured."

"Mate, what the fuck?"

Sirius shrugged. "I mean, yeah that's pretty much how I felt. Anyway, she took me to her estate. Kept me there a bit, brought Snape round to torture me and I escaped."

"Wait, wait—" James held up a hand, indignant. "Your bitch cousin captured you and bloody Snivellus tortured you? Why the hell am I just hearing about this now? How the bloody hell did you escape and what does this have to do with ignoring Dumbledore?"

Sirius picked up his fork again, waving it at James. "Just, let me finish, yea? Turns out the Lestranges didn't count on animagi when they set their wards or measured for dungeon bars." Jabbing at another bite, Sirius banished the niggling feeling he should share Snape's part in his escape. It was too embarrassing.

"Anyway, I wasn't in a state to apparate. I've been to the Prewetts' place a few times and figured it was probably the closest I'd find an ally. So I made it there, passed out, and they patched me up. I don't know what I would have done without them.

"When I came to, I was wary of them of course, thanks to Dumbledore. And naturally I asked what had happened… they didn't say. Only that blind faith in anyone was foolish and that Dumbledore knew exactly why they had left. I got the feeling that whatever their reason was, it was a pretty big deal."

James didn't say anything for several moments, letting Sirius eat while he considered what he'd said. Finally, he sighed, agitated. "I know you've always idolized them but…" When Sirius glared back at him, mouth too full to retort, he threw his hands up. "Alright, we both have. But they've betrayed us."

He said this with an air of finality as though that settled things, before sighing heavily and going on. "And why didn't you say anything until now? That was weeks ago. What changed? Just because they healed a few wounds doesn't make them trustworthy when Dumbledore seems dead set that they're not."

When Sirius didn't immediately answer—unsure what to say—James frowned. "I saw Kingsley call you into his office right before I left. Did he say something? Are these his instructions coming out of your mouth?"

"Yeah, and… no." Giving up, he summoned their bottle of fire whiskey as James slammed a hand down on the table.

"I knew it! Look mate, I like Kingsley and all, but he's got such a rod up his arse about us doing anything with the Order. He's always badgering Dumbledore about putting us in harm's way. We're fine to train as Aurors, oh sure, but fight Death Eaters? No way."

Considering the wisdom of getting sauced in the middle of such a conversation, Sirius sipped slowly at his whiskey. "Yes, Kingsley did tell me to back off the Prewetts. Actually he asked me to get all of you to back off. Apparently he trusts them and has misgivings about Dumbledore's fixation with them."

James only scoffed and turned back to his food, evidently deciding the whole conversation was bollocks. Annoyed with his friend's dismissal and refusal to even consider that Dumbledore could be wrong, Sirius felt his temper flare.

"Have you ever even wondered why? Why would the Prewett twins, two of the best fighters, the most ardent supporters of our side, would turn on Dumbledore? Or did you just take his word without any thought of your own?"

Sauce flicked from James' fork and across the table when he slammed it down. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? Did you? I don't remember you wondering about this before. From what I recall, until today you were just as devoted to our orders as I was."

"That's not true! Didn't you hear me ranting when Dumbledore sent Remus north to infiltrate the werewolf packs? It's a bloody suicide mission and the old man knows it!"

Pushing back from the table, James stomped out of the room. "Not this again. Remus wants to do it. He'll be fine!"

Slamming back the last of his whiskey, Sirius followed. "Kingsley told me what happened. He told me why they left and you know what? It's pretty fucked up. AND Dumbledore admitted to it with witnesses."

"Oh ya?" James spun on his heel and faced Sirius, arms crossed. "What did he do that could be so bad that it would be worth abandoning this fight?"

It wasn't the time to smirk. It wasn't funny at all. But knowing the blow he was about to strike, he couldn't help it. "He fucked with the wards at the Burrow, let Death Eaters in and didn't send backup until a half an hour too late. If the Prewetts hadn't been there, the entire Weasley family would be dead."

James screwed his face up with disgust. "You're sick. Dumbledore wouldn't do something so twisted. The Prewetts lied to Kingsley."

"I already told you, James. He admitted to it. Kingsley said there was a meeting, only high level Order, Moody, Kingsley, a few others, and Arthur Weasley. Said he needed to sway George Prewett and his girlfriend to work for him. They told him to fuck off too, naturally."

It was difficult not to feel smug at the confusion on James's face. He knew it was entirely misplaced and definitely not appropriate. This situation was fucked. Dumbledore had done something completely beyond the pale. There wasn't anything that could excuse it. And yet he was still their side's best chance against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Unless whatever it was the Prewetts were going to do worked.

"I don't believe you." James was through the floo before Sirius could stop him.

Growling in frustration, he threw up his hands and threw himself onto the sofa to wait.

Half an hour later, a forlorn James stepped out of the floo. He didn't say anything. When he held out his hand, Sirius handed him a glass of Ogden's.

"I went to see Moody."

His temper having cooled, Sirius decided to let James do the talking.

"He's known Dumbledore almost as long as anyone. I trusted him to tell me the truth."

When he paused, staring into his drink, Sirius pushed. "And?"

"He… he said it was true." The sofa shifted as James sat beside him. After a long, tense silence, he spoke again. "So, why does Kingsley want us to back off the Prewetts?"

Sirius shrugged, ticking the reasons off on his fingers. "They're not a threat, they're working on something big and we're in the way, it's dangerous since You-Know-Who has been sending his best after them."

James cocked his head to look sidelong at Sirius. "Big? Like, more hats big or take out Death Eaters big?"

Sirius blew hair out of his face with a huff. "Sounded more like the latter, according to Kingsley."

"Hmm." He sighed. "I guess if we're sure they're not working for him, it's a waste of time anyway. What do we tell Dumbledore the next time we see him?"

Sirius shrugged again. "Same as always."

"Ah. 'Nothing' it is."