"Stay where you are," said Harry, backing away with her wand pointed at Black. Thirteen Muggles with one curse.
The Death Eater appeared unconcerned. He pulled an apple off a tree and bit into it.
"What's your name, girl?" he said quietly. His voice was deep, casual, and carried a slightly mocking tone. Despite his ragged appearance, he spoke very properly - not unlike Draco Malfoy.
"Ginny," said Harry. "Ginny Weasley. Put the apple down."
Black ignored her.
"Well, then, Ginny Weasley, I apologise for this."
"Apologise for wh-"
Faster than Harry believed possible, Sirius lunged at her. Instinctively, she pulled her wand back, trying to keep him from snatching it - but he wasn't aiming for her wand. His fist slammed into her face with brutal force, knocking her back, the pain in her nose momentarily blinding. Stunned, she could do nothing but shout out as he punched her again, this time in the stomach, taking the wind out of her, before kicking the back of her knee. She collapsed to the ground, completely disabled.
"Incarcerus," she heard, and suddenly she was bound tightly in ropes. Still gasping for breath, her head ringing, her nose bleeding, she looked up at Black. He was holding her wand.
"Like I said," he said with a grimace, "sorry about that. But I have business in the house, and I don't want any interruptions."
"Don't you dare -" Harry gasped, interrupted by the need to swallow some blood.
Black looked amused. "You've got spunk, I'll give you that," he said. "Silencio. There. Don't want you shouting out now, do we?"
Harry tried to swear at the man, but no sound came out.
"It was nice meeting you, Ginny Weasley."
He then turned and walked away. Lying on her back as she was, he left her vision quickly, leaving Harry staring at the night's sky, swallowing her own blood. It was quite disgusting - metallic, slimy - but it was better than choking on it. She tried to roll onto her side, but she was bound quite thoroughly.
Those minutes were some of the longest of Harry's life. She lay there, imagining what dark deeds Sirius Black was performing within The Burrow, wondering how long it would be until anyone found her. And underneath it all was the ever present worry for her other body.
Footsteps approached much sooner than Harry expected. Black appeared again, looming tall above her. He looked angry.
"Where is he?" he snarled, "where's the rat?"
"What?" Harry said - her voice returned to her with a flick of Black's wand.
"The rat, girl!" He reached into a pocket and removed a worn piece of paper - a page torn from the Daily Prophet - and shoved it in her face. It was dominated by a picture of the Weasley family - all of them except Ginny - standing in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. "The pet rat, on the boy's shoulder: where is he?"
Black was frantic now, his hands shaking.
"Scabbers?" said Harry, completely confused. "He's Ron's. He should be in the house."
"Well, he isn't!" spat Sirius, and he took photograph back before beginning to pace, muttering to himself. He was clearly not right.
"Fuck!" he shouted, and there was a loud bang, followed by the sound of wood cracking. Harry couldn't see, but she guessed that the Weasleys now had one less apple tree.
At last, Black stopped pacing and went quiet. After several minutes, he returned to stand over Harry.
"Episky," he said and, with a series of disconcerting crunching sounds, Harry's nose was healed. Black walked away again, and a moment later he said "Evanesco!". The ropes around Harry disappeared. She went to stand immediately, but fell again when her legs were surprisingly weak. The ropes had been quite tight, and had cut off the blood. So she sat on the ground rubbing feeling back into her legs as Black stared at her. He was sitting with his back to a tree, examining her wand.
"What were you doing, before you saw me?" he asked. "Running away from home?"
"Something like that," she muttered. This didn't change anything. She still needed to get to Paris. She still had to rescue herself. But she needed her wand. "Can I have my wand back?" she asked, not really very hopeful.
"I ran away from home, when I was young," said Black softly, still fiddling with her wand. He seemed to be in a different world.
"Went to join your master, did you?" Harry asked. She knew she shouldn't provoke him, but it just slipped out.
He seemed to find that funny. He laughed - a quick, short, laugh, almost like a bark - and then sighed.
"Something of the opposite, little Miss. Weasley. I went to join my brother."
Running away from home to join your brother? That didn't make much sense. But what did she care about it? He was a Death Eater.
"Can I have my wand? Please," she asked once more. Normally she'd never beg a Death Eater, but he seemed disinclined to kill her, and she really needed to go. Maybe he would let her.
Black looked up at last, and stared right into her eyes. It was rather uncomfortable.
"What's the rush?" he asked, and he sounded suspicious. "Are you really running away? Or are you running to somewhere?"
All her practice with the horcrux paid off. She felt Black the moment he tried to enter her mind. He lacked both the elegance and power of Voldemort, and Harry found it relatively easy to control her thoughts. She could feel what Black was trying to do: he was trying to make her dwell on why she wanted to run away. She refused to allow it. Unfortunately, while she had the ability to resist Black, she lacked the skill to fool him. He pulled out of her mind with a look of shock.
"Where did you learn Occlumency?" he said. Harry noticed that the wand was now pointing at her once more.
Occlumency. Was that something to do with horcruxes?
"Occlu-what?" she said. Maybe he'd be able to tell her what a horcrux was.
"Don't play stupid," he said, standing up. "Who taught you to defend your mind?"
This Occlumency thing was getting him quite agitated. It reminded Harry that she was dealing with Voldemort's second in command. This wasn't an idle chat - he was dangerous. Very dangerous.
"I learnt it from a book," she said, trying to pacify him. It was a mistake. A look of anger crossed his face and he flicked the wand. A phantom hand slapped Harry with a crack, hard enough to snap her head to one side.
"Don't lie to me! There are no books on Occlumency. Do you think I'm stupid? I can count the number of Occlumens in Britain on my fingers. Which one taught you?"
"How do you know it, then, if there are no books?" said Harry angrily, holding a hand to her stinging cheek.
Black laughed. "Who do you think invented it? The Blacks have always guarded their secrets well. Now, for the last time: who taught you Occlumency? Narcissa? Bellatrix? Snape?"
He spat the last word, and there seemed to be some definite hate there. Harry hesitated. She couldn't say "Voldemort". That would lead to awkward questions, and Black would probably take the diadem from her.
"Honestly, I just kinda... figured it out," she said. It was mostly true. Her ability to defend her mind came from trial by fire, from instincts honed by practice, not through any explanations or lectures.
Black looked impressed.
"A right little Dumbledore, aren't you?" he joked, and he sat back down, his anger passing as quickly as it came. But now it was Harry's turn to be angry. How dare he, a Death Eater, joke about Dumbledore?
"Don't say his name!" she spat, "not you, not now!"
"What am I supposed to call him? You Know Who?"
That was too much for Harry. She screamed and jumped at Black, intending to - well, intending to do something. But it was not to be. Black still had her wand, and he was a grown wizard. Before she could reach him, she was upended and hoisted into the air by an ankle.
"Let me down!" she shouted, angry at her helplessness, not even caring that her dress had fallen and bunched around her ribs, not caring that he was a feared Death Eater.
Surprisingly, he cancelled the spell, and she was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground once more.
"That was unladylike" he said, but he seemed more amused than angry. "What set you off, anyway?"
Harry closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Anger wouldn't get her anywhere here.
"Just... don't joke about Dumbledore. Not today. Not so soon after-"
"After what?" said Black.
Could he really not know?
"After he was killed," she said, glaring at him.
It was like someone had punched the man in the stomach. He stepped back from her in shock, and put his hand against a tree for balance.
"Dumbledore... he's dead?"
"Yes," said Harry, confused. Surely a Death Eater should be rejoicing at the news?
"No," said Black in disbelief, shaking his head. "No. No-no-no! This isn't how it's supposed to happen. I'm supposed to kill Peter, and Dumbledore gets me a trial, and then I find Harry and -"
"Harry?" she asked. What was he talking about? Who was Peter? And he wanted another trial? None of it made sense.
"Harry Potter," said Black distractedly. He was pacing again. "He's my godson."
Harry stared at Black in shock. She had a godfather? And he was a Death Eater? It was all so crazy.
But underneath the disbelief, a spark of hope formed. Hope she hadn't felt since she'd seen Dumbledore's dead body. Maybe - just maybe - she wasn't alone. Sure, he was a Death Eater, but still. Family was family, right?
At last she found her voice.
"Harry... they think he's dead as well."
Sirius' head snapped to look at her so fast that she was surprised his neck didn't break.
"What?" he said, his voice little more than a whisper.
"He's not though," Harry said, and a plan began to form. "It's where I was going, before you arrived. I was going to rescue him."
"Rescue him?" There was disbelief in Black's voice. "What can a little girl do to rescue him?"
It was a good question. Flamel would take her apart as quickly as he had before. But Sirius Black? That was another matter entirely. He'd killed thirteen Muggles with one curse. He had been Voldemort's second in command. And he seemed to have some twisted desire to help Harry. She could use him, and then, once Flamel was a stain on the wall, she'd hand Black over to the Dementors.
"I know where he is," she said - partly true. As soon as he woke, she'd know. "I can take you there. Together, we can rescue him."
Sirius looked at her for some time. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"Tell me where Harry is, and I'll get him," he said at last. "There's no reason for you to come."
"No," said Harry. She didn't trust him. "I'm coming. And I want my wand."
"Persistent little bugger, aren't you?" he said with a laugh. "You must be a Gryffindor." He flipped her wand so that its handle was facing her. She took it. Things were looking up.
"So where is he?" said Black.
"Paris," she said, and she began walking back towards The Burrow. "We'll need to steal another broom for you."
"Wait, Weasley," he said, and he put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped at the close contact. "You were seriously going to fly to Paris? Are you insane?"
"How else are we going to get there?" she said.
"The train, of course!" he said. "Take my arm."
He was going to apparate them, then. This was her last chance to back out. He could be taking her to her death, for all she knew.
She had no choice. She put her arm through his, and they left The Burrow without a sound.