"We need to get him out of there," Alastor Moody said as soon as he finished reading the absolutely sickening chapter about horcruxes in Albus Dumbledore's copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts. They were sitting in Albus' office with silencing and obscuring charms hiding the content of their conversation and reading material from all the portraits on the walls. Albus hadn't wanted to move the evil book outside of Hogwarts, and Alastor didn't blame him now he'd read part of it.

Albus nodded gravely. "Perhaps."

Alastor glared at him. Perhaps. Young Sirius Black was proving to be an astonishingly effective spy to bring them this kind of information. At the same time, it was becoming increasingly likely for him to die in this war. No, there was no doubt in Alastor's mind that if they left Sirius to sit in the same house as something as evil and crucial to the war effort as this horcrux, then one way or another, the kid would be dead soon. There were too many ways for this to go wrong, now.

Albus continued in his usual, measured tone, "Certainly, if he tries to destroy the horcrux for us now, he's either going to die in the process or be found out and executed shortly after. He's too sick for it to go otherwise. It would be wisest to wait and arrange the horcrux' destruction when Sirius is better able to distance himself from the operation... but if we do nothing with this information, he will take it upon himself to act prematurely. It is his nature." His expression was bleak and conflicted.

"Bloody Gryffindors," Alastor said with a dark grin which Albus barely managed to return.

"Not just that, he's on a time limit. Several of them," Alastor's Portrait self warned. "He and Narcissa think Abraxas cursed Lucius."

"Yes?" That was old news. Sirius had relayed his suspicions about that the day he got out of the hospital.

"Well because of that, he's now planning on helping his cousin flee the Malfoy house. I overheard them talking about it, though he hasn't deliberately shared his plans with me."

Alastor grimaced. "He's making more problems for himself, the fool."

"Surely you understand young Narcissa's plight, Alastor," Albus admonished. "She's a young woman with a child on the way who has now lost her husband's protection. She is right to fear a man like Abraxas, particularly if he did curse his own son."

Alastor sighed. "True."

The Portrait continued, "I also overheard the house elf talking to him when he left the room where the horcrux is, a room which is supposed to be a Malfoy family secret. It was... a strange encounter. The elf was acting oddly and from the sound of it seemed intent on not ratting him out to Abraxas. Sirius did not say or do anything to make sure, though."

"Shit. That will only hold up until Abraxas directly orders the creature to report on Sirius' activities."

Albus frowned. "We must warn Sirius to treat that elf very well."

"That won't protect him from a direct order, Albus," Moody warned.

"I know it won't, but elves are more able than most wizards give them credit for. With sufficient determination, an elf can and will work against its master, obeying orders to the letter while exploiting every loophole to betray them. There was an elf named Hooky who worked for the Minister of Magic during the Goblin rebellion in the 16th century and so loathed her master she acted as a spy for the goblins, since she was never ordered not to."

"Really? Right, I'll make a note for all the Order members who own a house elf to please and as soon as possible order them not to betray us."

Albus' eyes twinkled briefly in amusement, but he did not belabor the point. Instead, he steepled his fingers and frowned again. "And then there is the obvious limitation: we cannot risk our chance to destroy the horcrux should Sirius resume his more dangerous activities amongst the Death Eaters and fall victim to a stray spell or otherwise be compromised. His period of ill-health is, unfortunately, also our best window to act. So, how shall we extract him, Alastor? I am sure you and I could break him out of that house ourselves this very day, but we would doubtless be interrupted, and Voldemort would realize that Sirius was a spy as soon as the horcrux is found to be missing. Sirius, the Potters and all of Sirius' other acquaintances on our side would immediately become priority targets. So would Mr. Avery and Ms. Bertram. They and their families would likely face immediate execution."

Alastor wasn't too upset at the prospect of Voldemort targeting people like the Avery heir, but certainly, they needed to reduce the inevitable murderous fallout as much as possible. "Sirius might not be able to safely destroy the horcrux right now, but he could steal it and meet us somewhere outside," he suggested. "Sirius can just vanish, quietly. Or loudly, if we stage something in public."

"That assumes Voldemort did not put any tracking spells of his own on his horcrux. If he did, he will move to intercept Sirius as soon as he leaves the manor, and we may lose this chance forever. It will also still be immediately obvious what happened as soon as the horcrux is found to be missing," Albus pointed out.

"Then we should attack the manor but make it look like Sirius died in the attack, defending the place, keep him in hiding after. There will still be risk of retaliation, but that's a given no matter what we do to get him out of there. The very worst scenario would be if you-know-who realizes he's been harboring a spy. He'd be livid." Alastor would be happy if they could avoid any more McKinnon-style whole-family massacres.

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "We will discuss logistics with Fleamont and Euphemia tonight and be ready as soon as Sirius is once again alone in the house."

"Mister Dolphy is in the floo in the greeting room. He is wanting Master Sirius. Is Master Sirius sir wanting to speak with Mister Dolphy?" Sirius instantly dropped his cutlery in surprise and alarm. His heartrate quickened with looming dread. This was it. He was going to die. The elf had reported on his little exploration yesterday, and now Rodolphus was here to kill him on behalf of the Dark Lord. Life had been fun while it lasted, he supposed. "Master Sirius?" He jumped again. Dobby's voice had moved from the door to underneath the table. He leaned forward to see the elf was cheerfully picking up the fork and bits of omelet Sirius had just dropped.

He could not tell if Dobby was genuinely insane enough to betray his own master's interests for Sirius' sake, or if the elf was psychotic in a different way and sadistically messing with him, luring him into a false sense of security. He forced a nonchalant tone he didn't feel. "Rodolphus, eh? What do you s'pose he's here for?"

Dobby smiled up at him toothily. "Dobby can only be guessing. Maybe Mister Dolphy is wanting to check on Master Sirius' clumsy?"

"My clumsy?"

"Master Sirius is very clumsy." Dobby's bat-ears waggled, and his eyes widened. "Dobby is not meaning to insult Master Sirius, sir!" He forgot the crumbs on the floor and jabbed the fork into his own arm. "BAD DOBBY!"

"Woah! Stop it, Dobby. You didn't insult me. I'm perfectly aware I'm still sick." Dobby stopped still, fork raised to strike his arm again. Luckily, he had failed to break the skin the first time. Sirius grinned weakly. "It's not like you called me ugly or anything."

It was Dobby's turn to drop the fork in astonishment. "Master Sirius sir is the most handsomest of wizards! His black hair is beautiful and silky! His-" Dobby gushed.

"Fine, yes, thanks," Sirius said hurriedly. Dobby's mood swings were something else. But they were oddly reassuring evidence that the elf did, for whatever reason, like him. Maybe because as much as Sirius despised and bullied Kreacher, the Black Family house elf, he had never ordered any elf to savage itself the way Dobby did. So, maybe he would live to fight another day after all. "I'll talk to Rodolphus."

"Is Master Sirius wanting to come downstairs or should Dobby be bringing Mister Dolphus to Master Sirius sir?"

"Send him up here." Dobby bowed low and disapparated.

Sirius decided to go ahead and drink his noon potions now, before Rodolphus joined him. They might keep his hands from shaking.

All too soon, Rodolphus Lestrange walked into the drawing room. He hesitated just inside the threshold. Sirius couldn't help but grin to see the usually unflappable Death Eater even a little bit uncomfortable. "Well, I'm not going to get up, so maybe you should sit down, Dolph." He gestured at a chair on the other side of the lunch table.

Rodolphus nodded and crossed the room. He sat down and studied Sirius for a moment. "How are you, Sirius?" he asked at last.

"Hmm... on a scale of one to mentally and physically incapacitated on your back lawn... maybe a five?"

The older wizard's lips quirked. "That bad, eh? I'm sorry. I should have realized what was happening and intervened sooner."

Sirius waved a hand. "It's not like Bella or I told you, or anyone, what we were doing. You did step in and save my arse as soon as you knew it needed saving."

"I'm glad you can see my actions with such... maturity. Now, tell me about your current symptoms. Bella said you're walking. How far? Can you run at all yet? What potions do they still have you on?"

"What, are you applying for a job at St. Mungo's?"

Rodolphus smirked. "Hardly. But I have rather more experience with your present situation than your healers do."

"Ah." Rodolphus had a lot of experience with managing victims of prolonged Cruciatus exposure, did he? He must serve as an enforcer and interrogator for the Dark Lord, amongst other things. That would certainly fit with his generally unsympathetic and analytical demeanor, Sirius supposed. Rodolphus did have a sense of humor, but it was dry and muted compared to most of the other Death Eaters Sirius had worked with. Interrogation probably wasn't a full-time job though, since the Dark Lord usually just wrenched information out of informants with Legilimency, from what Sirius had seen. He shook himself from his thoughts to answer Rodolphus when he noticed the older man's fingers tapping on the arm of his chair. "Sorry. I get distracted pretty easily. Walking you asked? I'm still using the cane and spending almost all of my time up here. Haven't tried the stairs again since Bella visited."

Rodolphus frowned. "You should. I can help you before I leave today."

"You're going to help me tackle the stairs, just to see if I can?"

He nodded. "Yes. I will be taking over from Bella as your primary dueling coach. You were doing well by all accounts before this... setback... but you will need help and supervision to recover to what you were. And the Dark Lord wishes to push you further than that. He believes you have the magical potential to be amongst our elite, if handled correctly."

"Huh. I am honored by his expectations. I'll practice on the stairs then. Should be safe enough even if no one else is here. Haven't had a leg spasm and give out on me all week."

"And which potions are you still taking?"

"Muscle relaxant at night, calming draught morning and night, nerve regenerator and a general nutritional supplement with every meal."

Rodolphus nodded thoughtfully. "And the cramping is better you say? Physiologically, you may no longer need the muscle relaxant... but the healers will still keep you on it awhile longer and taper off I'm sure. Otherwise, you'll suffer withdrawal effects. Three weeks at least, but maybe more." His brow furrowed a moment before he looked up decisively. He raised his wand and conjured a small target on its tip. "I want you to throw stinging hexes at this, as fast as you can for as long as you can. Try to be accurate."

"Okay, sure." Sirius leveled his own wand and flicked off a hex. The first one hit the center of the target, but his aim quickly suffered with speed casting. His fingers obeyed him, but they remained numb and tingly, which hindered his once-deft control.

"Faster."

Sirius sped up, and the hexes started missing the target entirely. One hit Rodolphus' shoulder, although the man barely flinched. The fast, repetitive wand movement proved unsustainable. His hand began to tighten. He strained to force it through the simple motion of the hex, but the muscles pulled inexorably into a paralytic spasm involving his whole hand, forearm, and elbow. The spells ceased. Sirius grimaced and used his left hand to straighten out the right. He massaged the muscles to relieve the cramp. "Guess I won't be taking on any aurors just yet."

"Not yet, no. Once the exertional spasms stop, your healer should taper off the muscle relaxant. The nerve regenerator you'll need to continue until the tingling in the hands and feet is completely gone. The calming draught... I don't know."

Sirius grinned. "Madness doesn't disqualify me from participating." If it did, Bella wouldn't be a Death Eater.

Rodolphus chuckled. "No, so long as you can follow orders. Distractibility is a problem, though. That is what I will monitor on behalf of the Dark Lord before recommending you join any delicate missions." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, the same brand Sirius usually chose. "Maybe these will help."

"Oh, Merlin's fat beer belly, I've been craving these! Thanks, Dolph."

"You're welcome. I figured none of your hosts were likely to resupply you. At least, not willingly."

"Damn Malfoys," Sirius agreed. He fumbled with the pack and held the whole thing up to his nose as soon as he got it open, just to breathe in the scent of tobacco. He was definitely addicted. A thought occurred to him. "Maybe next time I run out I'll Imperious Lucretia to get more. Can you imagine her in a muggle convenience store?"

Rodolphus snorted with mirth but didn't tell him not to. "Come. Let's see you walk. You can smoke when we get back, as your reward."

"Fine."

"I don't want to leave," Sirius whispered as soon as Portrait Moody filled him in on Dumbledore's and Moody's instructions. Not entirely true. Part of him did want to leave, to see his friends again, to wake up in a safe place, to never be asked to torture or murder again... But at the same time, he had never felt such a sense of purpose as he did as the Order's spy.

"Kid, you have to. This is too important."

"I know, but I've made so much progress. I don't want to give up now."

"This isn't 'giving up,' this is a strategic extraction to keep you alive. You're in an extremely precarious situation already after what Bellatrix did to you. If you-know-who gets just a hint of what you're doing and what you know, then you're not the only asset we lose now."

"I know..." Sirius bit his lip in frustration. It was obvious destroying this horcrux was pivotal to the war effort. It was equally obvious that if he did stay here after the horcrux was disposed of, Sirius would most likely die as soon as the Dark Lord realized it was gone, whether he determined who was responsible or not. Everyone in proximity would be in danger, not just Sirius but Abraxas and the entire Malfoy family for failing to protect such a key treasure. Even if he got Narcissa out now, she might still fall victim to the Dark Lord's rage. Dumbledore was probably right that the best way to mitigate that kind of indiscriminate collateral damage was to make this very obviously an overwhelming Order strike but not obviously focused on the horcrux.

But he still didn't like the idea of going into hiding now after everything he'd done to get here. "Why can't we try smuggling it out, again? It might take weeks for Abraxas to notice it's gone with everything else going on. Months even."

"Because it resists magical investigation! You've no way of checking for tracking charms on it! And it's literally part of you-know-who! We've got to assume he'll notice, if not the instant it's moved, then the instant it's destroyed."

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe instead of faking my death I can be captured? Keep my cover, take me prisoner, send me back when I'm fit enough to believably escape?"

"Right, that way you-know-who can torture and kill you later. Any prisoners the Order takes are surrendered to the Ministry, sonny. You'd probably be sentenced to Azkaban in short order. We'd have to break you out, and how would that ever be believable? Plus, after a bit of dementor exposure your Occlumency shields would probably crumble again."

Sirius winced. Then he shook his head. "It could be believable if the Potters are the ones to take me prisoner. Not that they lock me up as a Death Eater, but that James or Fleamont come on the mission and decide to 'rescue' me. And then I get hurt in the attack or something and can't sneak out from the Potters' wards right away."

"Why would that be more convincing?"

"Because James, Lily, and Peter were all skulking around in St. Mungo's hoping to spring me from there, and Pete even sneaked into my room to talk to me. That memory can be my evidence that they really believed I'm a prisoner here and therefore took the opportunity to save me. The Dark Lord doesn't have to believe I was the primary target. He just has to believe James is foolish enough to take a chance on harboring a possible Death Eater."

The Portrait was silent for a moment. "Your school friends have actually been plotting to kidnap you. I've heard them." Sirius felt a warm glow of love for the Marauders. "Their plans are poorly formed, unrealistic, and going nowhere."

"Have Dumbledore and Moody bring them in on this, then," Sirius pleaded. "Even if we decide to send me into hiding, we should leave the door open for me to come back if at all possible. There's too much at stake to burn my bridges behind us."

"I will speak to him."

With that, Portrait Moody walked out of his frame. Sirius closed the watch and set it on his night stand. He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking furiously. How could he make this work?

Author's note: One of you suggested Sirius could team up with Dobby to smuggle the horcrux out now that it's been found. That probably would be a good idea, if Sirius was more understanding and trusting of house elves. I think pureblood wizards like Sirius are at a disadvantage when it comes to dealing with house elves, because their bias looking at one is "this is a slave to its master's will," not "this is a person with his/her own thoughts and feelings." Sirius will come around, eventually. Also it's funny, I realized writing this chapter how much of an advantage Harry had on the horcrux hunt, despite how haphazard it was: not just knowing how many there were and what they were, but also knowing as evidenced by the locket debacle that Voldemort had no clue when horcruxes were moved around/destroyed. He could skip a lot of dithering and run straight to the next horcrux as soon as he found it. This version of Sirius would have happily smuggled the horcrux out too if Moody hadn't pointed out the hypothetical risk. Ah, the times paranoia actually makes things harder for everyone...

Thanks for the reviews, as always. Updates will continue on Saturdays.