Returning to the Potters' was weird, and it was one hundred percent because of James. Sirius' one-time best friend was hovering like a ghost determined to haunt him. At first, Sirius assumed that was because of the quasi-poisoning, but between Snape and Lily, that problem was quickly corrected and Sirius was back to feeling tired but not deathly ill. And yet, the more Sirius attempted to reassure James that he was fine now, really, the more agitated the other wizard seemed to grow. By the time Richard left, James looked on the verge of tears for some reason. For the life of him, Sirius couldn't imagine why. The conversation hadn't been particularly disturbing in Sirius' opinion. He decided not to comment on it. He inspected some of the family photos and portraits on the wall in the living room and politely asked James which one was Fleamont, but then James actually started crying. Sirius decided to leave well enough alone and went to bed.

The strange behavior continued the next morning. James and Euphemia sat across from him at the breakfast table. Euphemia was quiet after serving him breakfast and tea. She looked like she had been awake and crying all night, mourning her recently deceased husband, Sirius supposed. Meanwhile, every few minutes, James would open his mouth to say something, appear to think better of it, then close his mouth and look away again. Fortunately, Sirius was content to drink his potions and eat his breakfast of chocolate cake in silence. He decided to respect their grief and not ask questions about the mysterious Fleamont Potter. James elected to stay home instead of going in to the potions company he had just inherited, the one where Snape worked. Sirius asked him why, considering he'd heard Snape complaining to Lily about the chaos over there in Fleamont's wake. James flushed and said Sirius' safety was more important, to which Sirius could only shrug. James was the one who had most vocally opposed the suggestion of sending him to Hogwarts to hide, the safest place in the whole country.

And so they repaired to the living room for some more awkward silence, fortunately broken by the arrival of his cousin Narcissa, who brought Lyra with her since she was headed to St. Mungo's next. Sirius gratefully took the infant in his arms and listened as Narcissa chatted about the various dramas back at Grimmauld Place and the workings of the Wizengamot meeting yesterday. Narcissa had no intention of telling Orion she was still in touch with Sirius directly but had found the communication mirror from his room. She suggested that might be a more appropriate means for Sirius to communicate with the rest of the family, rather than keeping poor Richard in the middle of things. Sirius agreed, so long as either Narcissa or Regulus was the one to keep the mirror most of the time. James scowled, oddly.

Albus Dumbledore showed up next. He looked a bit annoyed to find Narcissa already settling into the Order stronghold as if she had always been on the Light side, but he hid it behind a beatific smile and a little cooing at the baby. He, unsurprisingly, broached the subject again of moving Sirius to Hogwarts after a few minutes of small talk.

"No, obviously not," Narcissa said disdainfully the instant the headmaster had finished laying out his argument. "The whole point of bringing him here was to help shore up the damage he took forgetting the late Fleamont Potter."

"The point was to protect him from his insane and abusive parents," James said sulkily.

Narcissa sniffed. "He's more than a match for either of them now, when he wants to be."

Sirius wasn't really listening very closely to the discussion between his cousin, the Potters, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he did snicker at Narcissa's comment. He didn't disagree, as he had bested Mum in half their duels since he'd been sick at home, but he knew only a fellow Black would see it that way. Lyra opened her eyes wide at the sudden noise and slight movement, hands winging out to the side adorably.

"The wards on this house were already penetrated once in December. They are not adequate protection for him right now should someone decide to silence him," Dumbledore said.

"The Dark Lord himself took down the wards that time," Narcissa pointed out. "Bella told me. Antonin is the only major threat remaining at large. Sirius can easily return to Grimmauld or flee to Hogwarts if this place is attacked. Even if someone manages to put up antiapparition, anti-floo, and anti-portkey wards in a hurry, Sirius is better at breaking those than just about any Death Eater still living you'd care to name. Strengthen the wards if you're so worried, oh Chief Warlock."

"What do you think, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly turning to him for the first time since his initial greeting.

"I don't care. Whatever Cissy thinks, probably."

"Cissy just suggested you go back to Grimmauld Place if we were attacked here," James hissed in his ear.

"Yeah, well, the wards at home are some of the best in the country, and I have direct control over them second only to Dad. That's why I went there when Bella was trying to murder me." Sirius shrugged. He didn't see why James was so touchy about Narcissa's every opinion, particularly since James had been opposed to the whole hiding in Hogwarts idea right up until Narcissa arrived this morning.

"If you don't want to go to Hogwarts, you're staying here," Euphemia said firmly.

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. I will reinforce your defenses before I leave. That being decided, Narcissa, would you be willing to discuss your, shall we say, goals as a member of the Committee for Adjudication of Criminality Associated with Death Eaters?"

She smiled. "Hoping I'll vote with Crouch and Longbottom?"

"I merely wish to understand your perspective as the youngest member of the committee."

"My perspective is that dangerous criminals cannot be allowed to continue to threaten our society."

"Quite. I am merely wondering about your approach to identifying and sentencing said criminals."

"I hope my approach to such things will always be logical. But, it is also important now to relax the strong arm of the law, clenched as it has been in wartime fury. We must temper our government with mercy and practicality, without of course falling short of justice."

Sirius rolled his eyes at the pair's oily words. "Cissy, I'm going to take Lyra on a walk around the house, if you don't mind."

"Stay, Sirius, this concerns you," Dumbledore urged him.

"I'd rather not."

"I'll go with you," James said with forced cheerfulness, standing up. He held out a hand. "Come on, Padfoot."

"No, you should stay, cousin," Narcissa said. "This does concern you."

"I'm not on the damn committee," Sirius said irritably.

"No, but you will be called to testify before it soon enough. When that happens, you will have to decide what you are willing to say about a lot of people. I know you've been talking to your father about it a little, but you should talk about it with us too, and sooner rather than later."

Sirius pulled a face but settled back into the couch cushions. "Fine."

James slowly sat down next to him again, and Narcissa raised her eyebrows at him and Euphemia. "You two on the other hand should probably leave."

"What?" James spluttered.

"This conversation must be kept confidential. The headmaster and I already know most if not all of what Sirius might say to the committee. You, as I understand it, do not. It would be extremely unwise politically to allow anyone not of the Wizengamot to hear this."

"I would never go blab about it!"

"Perhaps not, but I won't rely on your word on that."

Sirius sighed inwardly and tuned the argument out again in favor of rocking Lyra, who had started to fuss. She settled down again when he moved her to rest her head on his shoulder and patted her back.

"I'm not going anywhere unless Sirius tells me to."

"Fine. Sirius, tell your annoying little friend to clear out."

"Hmm? Oh. James, why do you even want to stay and listen anyway?"

"I... for you, Padfoot. Don't you want Mum and me to stay?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Not especially. The bits that aren't upsetting will be boring as hell, and I'm pretty sure they're going to do most of the talking, about political drivel, you know. No reason you have to stay for that when neither of them are going to much want your input on the matter. They only care what I have to say because I'm the eyewitness. Cissy isn't going to testify about anything she's seen or overheard in the past year unless she absolutely has to. Richard might, but only once we've gotten him pardoned for what little things he was coerced into doing. Are you sure you don't want to go in to work today?"

James' jaw clenched, and his expression closed off. He nodded, a quick jerk of the head. "Yes. Well. If you're sure you don't need me, I will... go take care of some business. But I'll be back soon."

Euphemia frowned, worry lines deepening between her eyebrows as she glanced between her son and her guests. "I will agree to step out as well, but I'll be just down the hall."

"Okay."

Once the Potters had filed out, Narcissa leaned back in her chair with a satisfied expression. She smiled at Dumbledore. "Well, Professor?"

Dumbledore regarded her impassively for a moment before speaking. "Your uncle mentioned yesterday that he believes there are mitigating circumstances that should be considered for a number of known Death Eaters and sympathizers, including Yolande Mulciber, the Averies, and the Selwyns amongst others. What do you think?"

"Well, I haven't had nearly so many discussions about it as my uncle has, having a newborn, you know," Narcissa said drily. "I reserve judgment until evidence of criminality and mitigating factors are presented to me for each case."

"May I speak plainly, Narcissa?"

"Please do."

"It is clear to me that your uncle seeks to use this Committee to burnish his own alliances. He will condemn Death Eaters who deserve it, yes, but he is inclined to spare those who offer him political favors in return. Are you in alignment with his intents?"

"I'd hardly admit it if I were, would I? That would be tantamount to admitting to bribery and corruption, hardly an auspicious way to start my tenure as the Malfoy representative to the Wizengamot. My uncle would surely be offended to hear you accuse him of such too."

"I don't plan of accusing him publicly. It is merely a private observation."

"How reassuring. But to answer your question... my uncle is interested in justice but also how he can best ensure the success of his House in the current situation. I share that goal, but I am a married woman and de facto head of a different House now. I do not always agree with my uncle's approach or his priorities. I may or may not choose the same alliances in his position."

Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent. In that case, I would be happy to share with you my perspective as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and leader of the Order of the Phoenix as to which Death Eaters and sympathizers pending trial have been the most damaging to our society."

"I value your insight."

"I value you lot getting to the point," Sirius muttered. Lyra hiccoughed. He grinned. "And so does the baby."

There was a burst of steam from the cauldron as Severus added the lingonberries. It was closer to magenta than the maroon he had been aiming for, and he made a note in the research journal. Something in the ratios still wasn't quite right, but he was getting closer. Maybe one or two more variations, and he would, hopefully, have a treatment for Nundu bite that didn't also cause one to suffer projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea. If successful, this potion alone could be the thesis for his Mastery. He could apply for a research position at any pharmacopoeia around the world if he wanted to.

The steam cleared, revealing Severus was no longer alone in the laboratory. He cocked his head to the side mockingly. "Do mine eyes deceive me? Could it be the boss himself has deigned visit the workplace this week after all, yea, even lowly me?"

James Potter did not smile. Or scowl, for that matter, which was his more typical response to Severus' teasing. Instead, he chewed his lip. "Do you think there could be a problem in the Napenthea Pharmakon?"

"You doubt my brewing?" Severus asked archedly. "Just because I don't like Sirius Black doesn't mean I'm sabotaging your efforts to save him from his folly, you know."

"I didn't say that. I'm just wondering... about our ingredients."

Severus shook his head. "All high quality. You should know. You paid for them."

"Also not what I meant. I was thinking, I mean, either Alphard or one of Sirius' parents was supplying the blood before. Yeah, I'm a second cousin, but maybe that's not close enough..."

"Why do you ask? Is he suddenly much, much worse again today?"

"No. It's just... He's so quiet. He was always the talker. I mean, him and me joking back and forth was half our life at Hogwarts."

"When you weren't making my life miserable hexing me in the corridors."

"Yeah... Anyway, pretty much the only things he's said to me spontaneously since he stopped puking yesterday is 'I'm fine' and asking me to point out a picture of my dad. And yet, he was all over Richard Avery when he came by, and all chatty with his cousin too this morning."

"Oh, no, how dare he pay attention to someone else. Must mean the end is nigh."

James glared at him. "You don't get it. We were like brothers. Inseparable. So close we finished eachother's sentences. He wasn't like this when he was in the hospital in November."

"You never even got into his room then," Severus pointed out.

"No, but Wormy did. He said Sirius was asking about the rest of us pretty much as soon as he recognized Peter. And he was still himself in December, ribbing me about all the wedding stuff and so on, even though he was sick and tense. Now... he's just lost in his own thoughts, doesn't notice me and Mum or anyone really at all, except when he got worked up about his damned family."

Severus grinned. "My, you're really upset about not being the center of his universe at the moment aren't you?"

"No."

"Oh. Good, then. Can't imagine why you would be, since he's got all the political factions in Britain panting after him for ending the war, is recovering from a Dark ritual so obscure it's mentioned only once in the entire Hogwarts library, and has to worry about his mother possibly torturing several of his other friends and family. No reason for him to think about you, is there?"

"I know there's a lot on his mind, but come on, he was more interested in Richard Avery than he was in any of us."

"Maybe because that's who he was living with prior to two weeks ago? Strange as it may seem to you who never bothered to learn anything about him besides 'he's a slimy Slytherin who defended Snape and failed to stop Mulciber from harassing muggleborns,' Richard is actually a nice person at heart for one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He's similar to Regulus, actually.

James flushed slightly, then shook his head. "I'm telling you, it's not normal. He looks at me and it's like I don't mean anything to him. Mum too. It's uncanny."

"Fine. It's not normal. Then it's probably because of the soul damage. Why are you complaining to me about it instead of Lily or one of your actual friends? Did you just need someone to make you feel bad about yourself? If so, maybe you can go to the staff meeting that starts in five minutes first and come back later when I have more time to lecture you about your self-centeredness."

James finally grinned, faintly. "I really did want your opinion on the potion, actually. I've already talked to Mum and Lily and Remus and Pete about it yesterday after Sirius went to bed, and we all agreed to give him space for a bit, he seemed so upset about Richard and Regulus. This morning though... I don't know. None of us can be objective about it."

Severus snorted. "And you think I'm objective when it comes to Sirius Black?"

"No, but you sure as hell won't think about him the same way we do, and you still know more about the Dark arts than any of us save maybe Remus. Other than the potions and chocolate, how do you think we should be helping him with this, er, soul damage?"

Annoyingly, put that way, it actually was a somewhat interesting problem that Severus was loath to dismiss out of hand. He pursed his lips and thought for a moment, trying to imagine himself in the position of not only having done rather a lot of unspeakably horrible things but also having ripped out a substantial amount of formative memory. He tried to imagine what Fleamont Potter might actually have meant to Black, from what he knew of them both. He blinked as he realized it wasn't actually that difficult to empathize, as his fledgling relationship with Fleamont would have been eerily similar. He and Black both came from awful home lives, and Fleamont was an adult who was uncommonly welcoming and supportive. That relationship would have been far more influential for Black, of course, from longer duration and stronger ties to the rest of Fleamont's family... which explained what James viewed as odd behavior, Severus realized. If Black was looking at James as if he felt nothing for him, it could be because he didn't. If Fleamont had been a father figure, that was inherently tied to the idea of Euphemia as mother and James as brother. Those collateral emotions could have been damaged by the dementor too. Severus actually felt a momentary flutter of sympathy for his hated enemy, before he deliberately squashed it again.

He looked back down into his cauldron and cleared his throat. "He is the one that's ill and memory-damaged. Assuming you're right and his disinterest in you is a symptom, he probably doesn't even realize he's doing it or that it's abnormal. He won't be the one to initiate things. Therefore it's on you to do the work to reconnect to him, whether that's by talking to him or showing him all your old haunts in the house or going through old pictures or what have you."

"We were afraid of making things worse by bringing up things that upset him."

Severus snorted. "You're worried about him having a delicate constitution? Please. He was always the most violent of your group, and he's literally a Death Eater. If he gets worked up and angry, change the subject or stun him before he becomes dangerous. For Morgana's sake, you're Gryffindors."

The other smiled again. "Thanks, Severus. I think you're right."

"Great. Now go to the meeting. You should at least pretend you're interested in running your own company, or sell it to someone else who actually cares."

Things got better in the afternoon after Cissy and Dumbledore and James had all left. Euphemia Potter was a pleasant presence, Sirius found. She spent a long time making lunch for them both, all his favorites without even asking. She knew him rather better than he had remembered, it seemed. They spent a few hours playing with James' old puffskein, which loved chasing after the shabtis Sirius made for it. Euphemia wrote in a notebook and filled the lazy hours with idle chatter about not much of anything - her plans for the garden this spring, anecdotes about James' and Lily's courtship and impending nuptials, reminiscences about the summers Sirius had spent with their family in years past. He hadn't thought about the days swimming in the Potters' lake with James in quite some time.

When James eventually returned, he had an odd air of determination about him. He greeted his mother and Sirius briefly before striding to the far side of the living room to root around on the bookshelf. When he returned, it was with a large family photo album. He sat next to Sirius and opened the album to spread across both their legs. "Would you like to hear some about my dad, Padfoot?"

"I would, if it's not too hard for you," Sirius answered, a little surprised at the offer.

James swallowed, nodded, and started going through the pictures and telling his family's story. The earliest pictures in this album were from the day James got his Hogwarts letter. There were scenes of his eleventh birthday, attended by several childhood friends Sirius vaguely recognized as having been sorted into Hufflepuff. There was a picture of James in this room holding his newly purchased wand. He stood in front of Fleamont Potter, who rested a proud hand on either shoulder. Eleven-year-old James looked like a miniature version of his father, with the dark and wild hair and spectacles adorning a round face. James' features had matured to more resemble Euphemia when he went through puberty and lost the baby fat, Sirius noted. They flipped through several Hogwarts years. Amusingly, the album contained both James' first report card and his first detention notice. All the end-of-year report cards continued to be saved; the detention notices were not after the first three, all in September of first year. Sirius' name was mentioned in the second and third ones. Sirius appeared in the album for the first time, along with Remus and Peter, in a picture of their first Hogsmeade trip in third year. The summer after third year was the first time Sirius managed to visit the Potters' home for a few days.

They kept looking through pictures for another hour or so. Lily and Snape came in. Lily kissed James' cheek before they both headed to the potions lab. Euphemia smiled with tears in her eyes when they reached the end of the last album, from the summer after fifth year. This was the summer Sirius had run away from Grimmauld Place, arriving on the Potters' doorstep the first week of July with only his wand and school trunk, the latter of which had cracked almost in half when he shoved it out his bedroom window onto the London street. There was a picture of him with James and Fleamont, sitting on the twin bed upstairs in the room the Potters had long since prepared and decorated for him. He had a genuinely happy smile on his face - Sirius could tell the difference - and tears in his eyes, and he had his arms wrapped around Fleamont's waist. The final picture was of him and James kitted out to board the Hogwarts Express, Euphemia standing between them and planting kisses on their cheeks.

Euphemia sniffled as they closed the album, but she looked happy even as she wiped her eyes. "He loved you both so much," she sighed. "I wish he hadn't taken such a risk at Foulness."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Pete said he was there. I'm sorry he was one of the unlucky ones. The Death Eaters took much worse casualties at least, especially if you count the morning after."

"Morning after?" James asked absently.

"Yeah, when the Dark Lord figured out there must have been a spy and went on a rage interrogating everybody, and not in a gentle way. He killed... a dozen more that morning? I dunno. Some of them might also have died of their injuries in the night after I'd already left Headquarters, especially once Nott was called away from the infirmary."

James looked up at him quizzically. "I thought you were being attacked at your uncle's place that night and went straight to St. Mungo's?"

"What? Oh, no, that was a cover story. I was at Foulness."

"...You were?"

"Yeah." He glanced between the two of them, both wearing the same guarded, mildly sickened expression. In a flash, he saw what they were both thinking. Was he the one who had fired the lethal curse at Fleamont? "I'm sure it wasn't me," he said awkwardly. "I spent most of the battle dueling with Evan Rosier. He was under the Imperius curse and took out half the Death Eaters who died at the island. The only other curse I cast was to blast the house at the end."

Euphemia blanched white as a ghost, made an odd, strangled moaning noise, and lurched to her feet to stumble over to the unlit hearth.

"Mum?" James followed her.

She didn't look back at them. Her voice shook as she explained, "At the last Order meeting before that operation, Flea and I confronted Alastor and Albus. About how the Order was planning to protect you while so blatantly using the intelligence you sent us about both the Inferi and the attack on Foulness. Flea...oh, Merlin..." She rested her head on the mantle and started sobbing.

"Euphemia?" Lily's voice came from the door. She rushed over to her future mother-in-law. Snape hung back in the doorway behind her.

"Mum, what is it?"

"You said Fleamont took especial risk at Foulness that night," Sirius murmured, heart quickening and stomach sinking as he sensed where this was going.

"Forget it, Sirius," Euphemia said thickly. "It's not your fault."

He shook his head and stood up. He swayed slightly on his feet. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I'll... go to Hogwarts."

James spun around. "What? No!"

"James, what she's trying not to say is that your father was in the house that I blew up," Sirius snapped.

Euphemia wailed in anguish and fled the room. As if in a daze, James blinked and started following after her. Lily's head cast about between Sirius, Snape, and her fiancé. Finally, she said, "Sev, stay here and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Please." Then she ran after the Potters.

Sirius looked warily at Snape. It was the first time they had been alone together since that fateful day at Hogwarts. The Slytherin watched him with dark eyes, expression perfectly neutral.

"Are you planning to do anything stupid at the moment?" Snape asked. His tone reeked of condescension.

Sirius' lips twitched. "No. Most of my stupid ideas arise spontaneously in the moment. Same with my brilliant ideas."

One eyebrow raised. "Then sit back down." Sirius obeyed. Snape remained standing, though he strode a few steps closer, looking down his hooked nose at him. "What house was it you blew up?" he asked abruptly.

"The Crouch family manor. I only did it because the Dark Lord directly ordered me to in the middle of the battle."

"Ah... and why was Mr. Potter in the house?"

Sirius shrugged. "Some ploy to disguise the fact that there was a spy amongst the Death Eaters, apparently. I don't know the details."

Snape's eyes narrowed a moment. Moments later, grim understanding and a wince of pain flitted across his face, before his expression closed off again. "That explains the polyjuice," he muttered.

"Polyjuice?"

"I brewed a batch earlier this year. A means to keep Lily safe. Mr. Potter asked me for some the day before he died, enough to last twenty-four hours."

It took a moment for Sirius to catch up. "He took Crouch's place."

"It would be the logical move to both protect Crouch and obfuscate the matter for the Dark Lord's informants."

"Fuck me."

Snape nodded, still staring at Sirius, barely even blinking. Then Snape abruptly commented, "You know, James showed up in my lab to talk about you today. It was very annoying. He seemed concerned that bringing up anything mildly upsetting might cause you to fly into a violent rage or something." He gestured. "Good to know he was wrong. I'd have thought reminding you of murdering your best friend's father would have been top of the list of upsetting topics."

Sirius scoffed softly. "It's not a reminder. I had no idea I had anything to do with his death at all."

..."No, I suppose you wouldn't have. One of the things you would have been made to forget." His brow furrowed. "Did you ever know, I wonder?"

Sirius shrugged. "No idea. Maybe Moody told me the plan, but if he did, I forgot that too."

"No... I don't think you were told a thing."

"Why not?"

"Professor Dumbledore said the sacrificial memory in the Ritual of the Feasts of Innocents had to be untainted. If you had knowledge of the murder... you could not have used that memory."

"Oh. Makes sense." He shuddered. "I don't know if that makes it any better, though. Whether I knew who it was or not, I still knew that house was occupied, just not by Crouch."

"It doesn't. You still killed a good and kind man. I'm surprised to hear you admit it, though. I must be doing something wrong, that you and your friends are so ready to confide in me of all people."

"Heh. Well, you're here. And I don't hate you any more."

"Hmm. The feeling isn't mutual. Why not, though?"

He shrugged. "I wronged you. I almost killed you twice, with no good reason. I've gotten to know other people, Slytherins, halfbloods who've lived a different life from me, and realized I was being a self-righteous arse in school."

"Ah."

"Sorry about that by the way." He shook it's head. "It's weird. I think I still feel worse about what I did to you last year... than I do about Fleamont. I dunno. Maybe it hasn't sunk in." Snape's breath hissed out. Sirius smiled faintly. "You can tell me I'm a horrible monster, if you want. I already know that."

"I'd love to. You are. But... I also understand, I think."

"How? I don't even understand."

"Yes, but you're in a state of emotional shock for the past week and a bit, maybe longer. I'm not. So let me tell you what I think is going on in that addled head of yours. When you almost killed me last year," he sneered, "an accident, I'm told, that act was a revelation to you. It damaged that self-righteousness you held onto for so long, a feeling I see you've now totally abandoned. As for Fleamont, he means nothing to you any more. James, your self-avowed 'brother in every way but blood' barely means anything to you. Knowing you killed Fleamont, to you, is like knowing you've killed a total stranger. Sad and disturbing, yes, but not personal, not visceral. And though I don't know the circumstances in that battle, I imagine you felt at the time that the deaths of a random stranger or two were justified by the need to preserve your position as a spy. In fact, that decision has already been objectively justified with your roll in ending the war barely a week later. I likely would have made the same choice in your position. No. I wouldn't be surprised if you told me you feel guiltier about certain of the Death Eaters you've offed than you do about this."

Sirius' lips twisted bitterly. "You're not wrong. Some of them were really bad. Particularly Rodolphus Lestrange. I genuinely liked him..." He watched again in his mind's eye as Bella cut her unresisting husband down.

Snape finally took a seat in the armchair furthest from Sirius. "I met Rodolphus before, over the summer before seventh year, when they were still trying to recruit me."

"Yeah?"

"Only a couple of times. He... had a gift for speaking to and relating to younger men, I think. He could tell each of us - Richard, Felix, Oscar, and me - exactly what we wanted to hear to appeal to us. What we needed to hear from someone."

Sirius nodded soberly. "Yeah." It was such a waste that Rodolphus became a Death Eater. He could have been... something better.

"The only other person I ever met like that was Fleamont Potter," Snape commented, as if Sirius needed to feel worse about himself.

Author's note: apologies for the delay. Something unexpected came up. We'll see if I manage to stay regular again from here on out. It's been hectic. Thanks as always for the reviews, though.