Chapter Five

When Harry was fifteen, his godfather, Sirius, had fallen through the Veil. Everyone told him that his godfather was dead, that the only thing the Veil could have possibly led to was death.

He hadn't believed them at first. His godfather had to have been alive. There was no proof of his death, but there was no proof of life either. So he'd remained an optimist, glancing at his two way mirror every now and then.

Later, he'd learned that the other mirror hadn't been with his godfather when he'd fallen through the veil.

Time continued to flow, and over several years he'd come to terms with his godfather's death. But there was always that little part of him that simply refused to believe that his godfather, the last link to his parents and his only chance for a happy childhood was gone forever. That part remained, even after he'd matured into full blown adulthood.

And then, Harry himself had followed his godfather through the Veil, unintentionally, ten years later. Seeing Sirius alive and well had made him feel like he was fifteen again. It had been a nice little reprieve from the constant uncertainty, paranoia and death he'd had to live with since Voldemort's rebirth. Sirius too had been chipper, for the most part, what with all the bad jokes.

But after they took on the project to take Voldemort down, things changed, and they both felt it. The jokes came few and far in between, the light and careless mood disappeared. Instead, concentration and dedication came in its place, and with good reason – any mistake on their part could reveal their true identities, and after that, only death could follow.

It was with this chilling thought that they portkeyed in a narrow alley behind a restaurant in Berlin. The smell of grease and burned fat permeated the air, brought about by the vapour rolling out a ventilation shaft some five feet above them.

Sirius pocketed the portkey Harry had created, quite illegally, and joined Harry at his brusque pace towards the mouth of the small alley.

A cat jumped from a dumpster on their left, yowling at them, its yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. They paid it no mind and kept walking.

The alley gave way to a street, cars honking, engines rumbling and bike bells ringing left and right. Glowing signs hung above their heads, things written in German on the various shops' windows they passed. Dressed in the same black suits they stood out a bit from the crowd of muggles, but not as much as they would had they worn robes.

Harry seemed to know where he was going, and Sirius followed him for fifteen minutes in silence. They descended some stairs that led deep beneath ground, into an open station filled with muggles. A train pulled up, its brakes screeching, the uncomfortable sound reverberating from the grey tiles that lined the walls and the tubular ceiling.

Seeing the modern looking train arrive brought memories of nostalgia in both of them, as each remembered his own happy days in Hogwarts. A pair of minutes later, the train started moving before it disappeared in the tunnel.

Sirius shook his head and followed Harry, who was already moving towards the door that had had plaque on it. Sirius couldn't understand the word on it, but as Harry opened the door, he found out that it was a bathroom.

"This it then," Sirius asked as he walked through the door.

Harry levelled a stare at him, and he soon found out why.

They weren't alone in the bathroom.

A man was standing near the washing basins, staring at his own reflection in the long, cracked mirror. He wore a black tux, with a blue tie and a white shirt underneath. The tux's buttons were undone, revealing a grey vest over the white shirt. With blonde hair and light blue eyes, he looked like every second muggle that passed them in the street.

Except for one little discrepancy.

The handle of a pearly white wand peeked from his left sleeve.

In an instant, they both had their wands out, Harry dodging towards the stalls in order to give Sirius a clear shot of the man. Sirius bent his knees as he pulled his wand out, ready to dodge, knowing that a shield could deflect a spell at Harry.

Harry inched forward, holding his wand near his hip in order not to startle the man.

The wizard spotted him through the mirror as he approached, but instead of reacting, he just stared at him confusedly. Harry saw this and stopped, his eyebrows furrowing above his nose.

"Gutten Tag," he said in greeting, staring at the man's confused face.

"Uh... Gutten Tag," the man responded back, and Harry sighed, before turning around and opening one of the stalls.

"Harry," Sirius asked in confusion, his wand not straying from the wizard's back, who after Harry left him alone, continued staring at his own image.

"He's been confounded, Sirius, with a powerful charm. It seems we're not the only ones here tonight on shady business."

"Are you sure," Sirius asked.

"Yes I'm sure. Look at him, he can't tell that it's a mirror staring back at him. He doesn't even know what time of day it is," Harry responded. The toilet in the stall flushed.

Sirius lowered his wand and walked to the stall, casting a glance over Harry's shoulder. He was jerking the thin chain attached to the cistern above in a complicated rhythm. After the ninth tug, the toilet stopped flushing, and the cistern disappeared along with the tiled wall behind it, revealing a long corridor.

"Are you sure we should go in? I mean, wouldn't it be smarter to come back tomorrow, seeing how there's someone else inside," Sirius asked.

Harry grunted and stepped over the toilet seat and through the space the wall had been seconds ago.

"There's no reason not to. Whoever went in isn't exactly an expert at breaking in," Harry said as he trudged forward.

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? What gives?"

"They left a big fucking clue in the form of a wizard who can't pronounce his name at the entrance. If an employ comes along for something they'd left in the office or whatever, they'd see the doorman confounded and immediately contact the Aurors."

"Isn't that more of a reason to back off?"

"That's more of a reason to find who the trespasser is. Really Sirius, aren't you even a bit curious?"

Sirius just grumbled and followed him. He didn't exactly agree with Harry, but it was Harry's plan – and so, Harry called the shots.

They arrived in what seemed to be a big hall, with fireplaces that burned bright green on the walls to the left and the right. It looked much like the Atrium in the British ministry, though the ceiling was not that high and there was no statue of magical brethren.

"Homenum Revelio," muttered Harry as he raised his wand high above his head. His eyes flashed silver for the briefest of moments, before a wave of magic rolled off him, making Sirius think of Dumbledore for a moment as the hairs on the nape of his neck sprang up.

After the wave washed over him, he observed as Harry gave him a glance and then slowly swept his gaze over the hall.

"Well," he finally said, "get ready for a cat and mouse game."

"What?"

"Our friend is now aware that someone has spotted him. They are frustrated, afraid, and not entirely human. And they're coming this way."

"You're kidding," Sirius said as he turned around, watching the exit wistfully. "Tell me you're kidding."

"Nope. Come. We must hurry."

They ran towards a door down the hall and Harry waived his wand in midstride, causing the door to swing open. Pushing Sirius through the doorway, he followed his godfather and waved his wand over his shoulder. The door slammed shut and the lock clicked in the darkness.

"Lumos," Sirius incantated, and yellow light spilled from his wand.

"Are you mad? Nox! Don't summon light, you nitwit. Whoever's out there might see it," Harry whispered harshly, and immediately regretted it as Sirius winced.

Harry sighed.

"Look, don't worry about it. Just keep running."

And they ran.

Past three crossroads of corridors they found a stairwell that went down, deeper under ground. Two floors down, they were met with a pair of large double winged doors. Harry felt grooves under his palms as he pushed them apart, but couldn't risk light to see what the carvings were about.

"How are we supposed to find it in this darkness," Sirius asked as they moved along, occasionally bumping in a desk or a chair.

"Once you're there, you'llhaveto use light," Harry said, before stopping. "Don't worry. I'll stand guard over here. It's the second door on your left."

"Right," Sirius said as he slowed down to a fast walk, using his hand to detect doors on the left side of the room. After what seemed an hour, but as probably just a few seconds, he found the doorknob of the second door and twisted it as he pushed it open, before quickly slipping inside and closing it behind him.

Silence and darkness greeted him on the other side.

"Lumos," he whispered, raising his wand high above his head to avoid the glare of the bright light striking his eyes. The large room lit up, the dim light playing with the shadows reminiscent of a hundred candles in a church. He raked his eyes left and right, looking for what Harry specifically told him before they set off.

The room was not huge, but it was pretty big. File cabinets almost as tall as he was lined the walls and were stacked in rows on the floor, creating isles only large enough for one man to walk through.

"Thirty seven, thirty seven, thirty seven..." he muttered under his breath as he checked the numbers on each cabinet. It wasn't until he reached the back of the archive that he finally spotted a thin one with the number thirty seven inscribed on it. Immediately he tried to open the third drawer from the top, only to find that it was locked.

He waived his wand towards a lamp that hung above the wall in front of him, and a small light sprang inside the space confined with glass. It wasn't as strong as his light spell, but it would have to do. He crouched down in front of cabinet number thirty seven and sighed.

"Alohomora," he whispered, and watched as the spell splashed over the cabinet, throwing red sparks on the floor. He sighed. Of course it wouldn't work.

He stood there for nearly half a minute, trying every standard and not so standard unlocking spell he knew, before he finally gave up and lowered his wand.

He had met with this kind of problem before, where he'd had to beat a spell that someone more educated than him had cast. It would probably take a wizard of Dumbledore's level to unlock the damned thing.

But he was a Marauder, damn it, and Marauders didn't just unlock things. They opened them, most times forcefully. Twirling his wand and pulling it back sharply, he observed as the cabined slid across the floor with a scraping sound. Wincing at the noise, he knelt beside it and immediately went to work. It was slow and frustrating, but it worked. No one ever charmed the cabinet to be unbreakable, and Sirius grinned as sparks flew over his shoulder. He was using his wand as a blowtorch.

Granted, it didn't spill superhot fire from its tip, but instead charmed half a millimetre thin line along the side of the cabinet to melting temperature. Then he did another and another and another, until with a tug of his wand, a piece of the cabinet's wall roughly shaped like a square came off, revealing the wall of the drawer inside. Sirius sighed and repeated the process, but this time he had to be more careful, as the dry parchment from inside was very flammable.

He needn't have worried, as the files inside were charmed to be fireproof. A chunk of steel melted pretty badly and stuck on one of the folders inside, smouldering and dripping down on the bottom of the drawer. After that, he hurried up his efforts, no longer concerned about burning the file he needed.

Finally, the side of the drawer came off, and he immediately started pulling out the files. After he stacked them on the floor, he went through them quickly. The light from the fire lamp above him wasn't enough, and again he lit his wand, holding it up with one hand while thumbing the files with the other.

"One thousand three hundred and fifty nine, sixty, sixty one, sixty two. There you are," he said as he pulled the folder from the rest of the files. Opening it, he was met with a ton of German, but he recognised one name from the title that seemed to take half of the first page. Grinning, he grasped the files from the folder and stuffed them in the inner pocket of his suit. From the inner pocket on the other side he pulled a thin stack of printing paper with a smiley face drawn in a thick marker on each page, and stuffed it in the folder. Then he set the folder back amidst the others and carefully placed them back.

A few repairing charms later, all evidence of the theft was gone, except for the smiley face covered pages of course. He even remembered to repair the scratches on the marble floor caused by him pulling the file cabinet from where it stood.

Patting the pocket where the stolen files rested, he waved his wand and watched with a grin as the light from the lamp faded, drowning the room in darkness.

He quickly left the room and walked back where Harry was supposed to be standing guard. He couldn't see anyone.

"Harry?"

"As silent as a grave," a voice came from behind him as a hand touched him on the shoulder. Sirius jumped and twirled around before he recognised the voice as Harry's. But Harry wasn't there.

"Merlin," Sirius said as he clutched his chest with his free hand. "Disillusionment Charm?"

"Mhm. And a scent masking one. You can't be too careful, considering whoever's in here isn't wholly human," Harry's voice said.

"Right. So he didn't pursue us here?"

"No. Probably waiting for us at the exit using the same charms I am," Harry responded.

"So how are we going to get out," Sirius asked. It was weird, talking to thin air like that. He hadn't done that since Azkaban.

Harry stayed silent for a while, making Sirius grow more and more nervous by the second.

"Give me the papers," Harry said, and Sirius complied immediately. "And the marker as well," he said. Sirius handed over the magical marker, his face guilty. Harry didn't say anything about it, though Sirius had the distinct feeling that he knew what he'd done.

The papers and the marker floated in the air for a second before disappearing, and Sirius reckoned Harry had stuffed them in his pockets.

"Good. Now, here's the plan. You're going to be the scapegoat, and I-"

"Wait a minute! Scapegoat? What-"

"Do try to keep up, Sirius. You're going to go in there, act all Auror, and take a spell. Trust me on this one."

"Look, Harry, not that I doubt your plan but... what if it's a Killing Curse?"

"That's... not gonna happen. It will probably be a Stunning or a Confounding spell. That's not a killer out there, that's a burglar."

"How d' you know that?"

"The wizard at the entrance was probably an Auror. And he wasn't dead."

"Well..." Sirius said before he stopped to think about it. "Well, why can'tyoube the scapegoat?"

"Easy. Because I'm already invisible. Now quit wasting time and move."

A grumpy Sirius scowled and walked up the stairs and towards the door they came in, Harry following close behind. Sirius lit his wand on his way through the door and left it open.

"Achtung! Achtung," he yelled as he charged in the hall, waiving his wand around like a mad man.

A red bolt of light flew from between two fireplaces and struck Sirius in the chest. The momentum of his charge made him trip forward and land on his nose with a sickening crunch.

The caster's Disillusionment Charm washed off as the spell left their wand, and Harry only saw a shock of dishevelled underneath a black hood before he cast his own spell.

Or rather, an array of spells.

His wand cracked like a machine gun as small jets of red and blue light whizzed toward the space between the two fireplaces where the red jet of light originated. Most of them missed his target, striking the fireplaces and sending chips of stone flying everywhere, but several struck true.

The body of the burglar slumped down against the wall as Harry cut off his attack, his own Disillusionment Charm cascading down like water off a ducks back.

Harry frowned. His wand was a lot warmer than it should have been. Shrugging the thought aside, he loomed above Sirius' still form.

"Enervate," he whispered, and the still body immediately jumped up. Sirius, his eyes wild, he whipped his wand around, casting a stunner every which way. He stopped as soon as he noticed Harry looking at him with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Are you done yet," he asked, and his grin only widened as his godfather grumbled and stuck his wand in his pocket.

"It worked then," Sirius asked after he calmed down.

"Yes," Harry answered, his grin not leaving his face. "Although, every time we make an effort to escape, you seem to find yourself with a broken nose."

Sirius' hand went up to his nose and came bloodied.

"Damn. Episkey."

His nose, now starting to swell up, shifted with a loud crack and settled into its previous position.

"Ouch," Harry said. "I liked it better when it was broken."

"Fists and floors may break my nose, but words shall never hurt me," Sirius responded. Harry didn't think that was worthy of comment.

"And what was that whole 'achtung, achtung' stint you pulled? I told you to make like an Auror," Harry said as they walked towards the slumped body, "not like an idiot."

"Same thing, innit," Sirius said, a grin on his face. Harry just rolled his eyes. "Aw, don't give me that look. I've had Aurors chase me – starved, unwashed, poor old post Azkaban me – for a year, and none of them came close to catching me."

They looked down at their attacker, noting the slender nose, the petite chin and the plum and pink lips.

"It's a bloody girl, Harry," Sirius said, before his eyes glinted, "or Malfoy."

"She's probably part Veela," said Harry as he bent down over the slumped body and pulled the hood off. Those long eyelashes, those pink lips and that perfect nose – he could recognise them everywhere, even after more than fifteen years.

Gabrielle Delacour hadn't changed much face-wise. The same features that adorned her then, when she was only eight did so again when she was nineteen. The difference was that she was more of a woman than a girl now – her features were sharper, more attractive, to the point that she wasn't simply just cute anymore. She'd filled out nicely, and he could tell even through the ridiculously unrevealing robe and cloak.

"Well, if it isn't a small world," Harry said, taking the wand from her limp fingers.

"You didn't kill her, did you," Sirius asked, surveying the damage on the fireplaces on both sides.

"No. Comatose spells. A cannon won't wake her up now," Harry said as he put her wand into the pocket of the girl's – no, woman's, he corrected himself – pants.

"Reparo." With a long sweep of Sirus' wand, the chips of broken stone went into the grooves and sealed themselves inside, not leaving any evidence of there ever being an altercation in the hall. With another thought, Sirius jabbed his wand toward the small bloodstain on the marble floor his nose had left when he crashed onto it. With a pale blue light, the bloodstain vanished.

When he turned around, Harry was rubbing his neck, a grimace on his face as he stared down at the slumped body of the very beautiful witch.

"Well, you had your fun for the night. Now I'm about to have mine," Sirius said jovially as he grabbed the girl by the ankles and pulled her away from the wall.

"Sirus... what the hell are you-"

"Have a little faith, Harry," Sirius said, and winced as Gabrielle's head thumped down on the marble floor. "That's gonna leave a bump."

Quickly, his fingers undid her cloak and then her robe, revealing the lingerie over the witches ample breasts.

"Sirius, I can't allow you to do this," Harry said, laying a hand over Sirius' arm.

"Merlin, Harry. You have a dirty mind," Sirius said, shooting Harry an accusatory glance. "But not as dirty as mine. The marker please."

Harry sighed and handed him the Marker. Partly out of curiosity, partly of... okay,mostlyout of curiosity.

Three minutes, some dodgy drawing and a few spells later, they were looking down at their newest friend. Sirius let loose a cackle that would've shamed Loki himself.

The jokes were now few and far in between, but it was worse than ever. They were premeditated now.

"Oi, what's this then," the smiley face on Gabrielle's left breast asked in a squeaky voice, before it's eyes – dots really – rolled up to look upon it's host's face. "And who's the bint?"

"It wouldn't talk like that if I were you," Harry said with an amused smile.

"Sorry. The slag. The bimbo. The cunt. The Pocahontas. Politeness is above me, chap. After all, you drew me on a boob, you tit. Ha! See what I did there? Boob... Tit... Come on, you can't be that stupid – you created me!"

Harry groaned and Sirius grinned.

"Silencio," Harry snapped when he saw that neither Sirius nor the thing were keen on shutting it up.

Sirius looked crestfallen for a moment as the Silencing Charm settled, before he sobered up.

"What are we going to do with her now," he asked.

Harry rummaged in her pockets and came up with several coins with an elaborate crest on them, before shoving them back.

"She was here after portkeys," Harry muttered, stroking his chin as he thought things over.

"Oh what the hell," he said after a while, "we're in a tube anyway. We'll just dump her on the benches and she'll wake up in the morning."

"And by that time, the silencing spell would wear off," Sirius, who was more concerned about his creation, concluded with a grin.

They pulled down her robe and buttoned up her cloak in silence before Harry cast another Disillusionment Charm on her. Sirius levitated her slumped body and guided it behind Harry. They left the confounded security guard in the bathroom, and they had to walk near the walls and keep her between themselves in order not to raise suspicion in the dozens of muggles who milled about, waiting for the next train.

Finally, they laid her out on an empty bench, and using their bodies to cut off the view from the muggles around them, they undid the Disillusionment charm. Pulling the cloak around her tighter, Harry patted her head and walked off, a whistling Sirius right behind him.

"Wake up, wake up you dumb bimbo! WAKE! UP!"

She was startled by the squeaky voice and shot up immediately, before realizing her mistake. Her back was stiff and her whole body was shaking. She felt like she was about to be sick, but with an effort of will, she rained the reflex to throw up. Her stomach was empty anyway.

"I say, it's about fucking time. You've been lying there for ages. It's a wonder no one stopped to cope a feel."

The squeaky voice was at it again, and she looked left and right to see who was speaking, but she couldn't see anyone. She waited for a second, but when the voice didn't speak up again, she figured it must have been a runaway house elf or something.

Looking around made her realize that she was still in the tube station that hid the entrance to the German ministry of magic. Her memories flashed back in an instant, and she got up from the bench shakily. After assuring herself that there was no one around, she closed her eyes, concentrated and apparated to her hotel room.

"Argh... You cunt! Don't do that again. Ever! That fucking hurt!"

She whipped her head around to locate the owner of the squeaky voice, but there was no one there. Sighing, she rubbed her burning forehead, and decided that she needed a hot shower.

As she took off her clothes, she checked her pockets and was relieved to find her wand in one and the portkeys she stole in another. Her sister would've killed her if she botched up yet anotherassignmentfor her.

Getting in the shower, she turned on the hot water and staid under the spray for at least ten minutes. After she got out of the stall, she felt a bit better, and reached for a towel to dry herself.

"Ungh... ungh..."

There was that voice again. She quickly wrapped the towel around her and looked around. There was no one in sight. Wrapping a towel around her wet hair as well, she cleaned off the fog from the mirror and immediately noticed something strange. There seemed to be something on her left breast. Undoing the towel, she realised that it was a smiley face, drawn with a thick black marker some two inches above her nipple. A tongue lolled out obscenely, trying to lick her...

"You finally realized it," the smiley face said, it's tongue back in its smiling mouth. "I knew blondes were dumb, but this is unheard of."

"O mon Dieu!"

"Look, it's a bit late to pull the acting card now. I'm already done with licking your tit."

She felt reviled that someone had drawn something like that, and on her breast no less. Only a savage would do that to a woman, she thought as she gazed in the beady eyes of the monstrosity. And it spoke English. A savage Englishman. It was a huge list of suspects.

"Who would do such a thing?"

"Oh, I don't know..." the thing said, taking a faux thoughtful expression, before grinning. "Only a genius! I figure, since I'm so perfect, only a genius could've created me."

She quickly tried rubbing the thing off her breast.

"Oh yeah... Go wild! Sneak another... Down at the furry..."

"Urgh," Gabrielle nearly screamed in frustration.

"Ungh," the Thing moaned, apparently in ecstasy. "Was it good for you as it was for me?"

"I'm trying to get rid of you... you... you stupid thing," she nearly yelled at its reflection.

"Look, you cunt. I'm drawn in permanent marker. If the thing's name wasn't just a publicity stunt to sell more markers, you wouldn't be getting rid of me. Ever! As it is, I figure it'll be at least a few months before I come off."

"If I catch the bastard who did this... ohhh there'll be hell to pay."

"Oh, come on luv, I ain't that bad. At least I tried to wake you up before you caught a cold, and that's more you can say about half of Germany."

"Who did this? Tell me who did this!"

"All I know is that I'm officially payback for what you did to that guy in the hall of the ministry. I don't know nothing else."

"I didn't get a good look at him before someone stunned me. Who was he?"

"Like I said, that's the only thing he gave me, besides a lifetime of dirty jokes. But I'd guess he's a vindictive bastard. Yah, that's a pretty good guess, I'd recon."

"Oh God," she said as she palmed her face. "How will I get rid of you? This is so embarrassing."

"Why would you want to get rid of me? I'm a charming guy, close to your heart, and if you ever need another pair of eyes all you have to do is pop your top off," the thing said, winking constantly.

"Right," she said, taking a deep breath and walking towards the living room where she'd left her wand in the pocket of her pants, "Silencing Charm first."

"No! Nonononono! Not a Silencing Charm! Please! Don't blame me for the sins of my creator! Look, I got a good look at him! I'll tell you what he looks li-"

He was cut off as beige light washed over him, and Gabrielle sighed as her ears finally caught a break. The door to her apartment opened and in came her sister. Quickly pulling the towel up lest her sister saw the Thing, she turned around and smiled tiredly at her in greeting.

"You're too squeamish, Gabrielle," Fleur, the older Delacour said in way of greeting as she walked in, and sat herself on the couch in the apartment. "Perhaps that's why you're still a virgin, even with your gift."

Gabrielle could actuallyfeelthe Thing's laughter shaking her breast. Hugging the towel around her and feeling dirtier by the second, she levelled a stare at her sister. Fleur's cold blue eyes stared back at her own.

"Did you get the portkeys," she asked, her voice tight, and Gabrielle nodded, reaching down to her robe and tossing it to her. Fleur plunged a hand in the oversized pockets and drew a handful of them before nodding. Her gaze softened, and after years, she smiled at her sister.

"You did well, Gabrielle," she said, her voice as soft and warm as a summer's breeze. "You should get some rest. There are bags under your eyes."

Gabrielle felt needles poking her in her heart, and her eyes watered.

"Thank you sis," she said, before she retreated to the bedroom. She had nearly forgotten about the Thing as she put on her nightdress and slipped in bed. It felt warm and secure, and with the vision of Fleur smiling happily again, after so many years, she fell asleep.