"Okay." Sirius dipped a quill to summarize their last hour of discussion. "Next task is to find out about as many football, cricket, and tennis matches happening in the next two months as we can." Those were all the sport names they had figured out from perusing their two sample muggle newspapers. "And also all the symphony, opera, rock, punk, and pop concerts," he listed off all but one of the music genres mentioned during their unplanned muggle encounter. Couldn't remember the last one. "Plays if the theaters are big enough. And any big dances or balls, if we can find them."

"And also any parades and any royal events," Avery added.

"I'm still leery about that idea," Sirius said, even as he noted it down on the list. "There's bound to be more security around those kinds of things."

"Still muggles though," Avery said dismissively.

"Sure, but there might be muggle military, who would outnumber us a hundred to one. I wouldn't know what to expect from that, nor would you. They could get lucky. And the queen might even have magical protection. I know their prime minister does."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It was mentioned at one of the meetings. I can't remember if the prime minister outranks the queen or if it's the other way around, though."

"Muggle government is weird," Avery agreed. "Scratch anything royal. Even if the queen doesn't have an auror following her around, we'd probably never figure out whether the prime minister fellow was going to be attending whatever political event we pick. I don't know about you, but I like it better when we dodge the aurors completely."

"Spoilsport," Sirius said mischievously, even though he completely agreed. "Consider it scratched. Right, so I'll get newspapers in London, Birmingham, Liverpool, and Southampton. You get the ones in Plymouth, Bristol, Newcastle, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. Once we've got the list of possible targets, we'll divvy them up between us to scope out the locations, and hopefully by the time we're done with that Rodolphus will have set up my meetings with the Ministry insider and our halfblood teammate. I don't suppose you have any idea who that might end up being?"

Avery thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Severus was the only halfblood at school I knew they were actively recruiting, until you changed things. Other than him, I think there were a couple in the years above us. A Ravenclaw Audrey Bertram and a Hufflepuff Xavier Loyola, maybe."

Sirius had barely noticed those two existed. He shook his head. "Guess we'll find out soon enough. Last thing is just to decide when we're going to do another routine hit. Maybe tomorrow?"

Avery glared at him. "I am not going to go out and burn houses and things tomorrow."

"Er, okay. Already have plans?"

Avery folded his arms across his chest. "Today's my birthday. I was still rotating with the obliviators until two in the morning, and I've been here since three this afternoon. I want to enjoy myself this evening without having to worry about being rested and sober in the morning."

Sirius blinked. How mundane. "Oh, right. That's fine, if you don't want to go muggle-baiting the day after your birthday, you don't have to. How about Saturday, or are you planning to get blackout drunk tonight and still be hungover then? If so, Sunday's the latest we should push it. I really think we should stick to an average of two or three hits per week like Lucius did, even on the weeks we pull something big. Otherwise the Ministry will know to expect a break. Happy birthday, by the way. Why'd you let me drag you over here to work today? We could have done this tomorrow."

Unexpectedly, Avery started blushing.

Sirius stared at him nonplussed. "What?"

"You didn't know it was my birthday?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot. We have been a bit busy, you know. And we haven't been friends since second year anyway. Do you even remember when my birthday is?"

"November third."

Sirius set down his quill and sat back, feeling both surprised and honestly guilty for the social faux pas. He shouldn't have forgotten. He and Regulus had always been invited to the parties when they were young children, being so close together in age (and of impeccable breeding). And the date was so easy to recall, being the day before Hogwarts start of term. The last time Sirius had celebrated Avery's... Richard's birthday was the day before they both started at Hogwarts. Funny, if the boy had been born one day later, he would have been in Regulus' class rather than Sirius', and wouldn't yet be a Death Eater. "Why on earth do you know that?"

The younger wizard sniffed judgmentally. "It's polite." To Sirius' surprise, Avery then reached out and cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. "Prat."

"Heh. So familiar with your boss, Richard."

"I'm sorry." Avery snatched his hand back.

"Joking, idiot." He started snickering at Avery's wounded look. "Merlin you're touchy."

Avery looked away. "Did you want to come to the party?" he muttered.

"Ha! Good one." Avery didn't look up, and Sirius' laugh faded. "Wait, you're serious?"

Avery's lips quirked. "No, you're Sirius."

"Hilarious. Never heard that one before in my entire life. Did you actually mean to invite me to your birthday party?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, we see eachother all the time, and you said you don't have any other friends any more."

Avery's reasoning was strangely touching. The power of his high-society, very British upbringing was incredible. "Who else is going?" Sirius asked.

Avery finally looked up again, cautiously. "My little sister. Felix Mulciber, Antonia Yaxley, Hypatia Gibbon, Ursula and Flavius Flint, Barty Crouch Junior, and, er, Regulus." The last name was almost a whisper.

"Regulus is going?!" Sirius hissed.

"Well, yeah. He was sorted into Slytherin and never stopped being my friend, and it's my last chance to see him before he and Barty go back."

No way in hell was Sirius going to allow his little brother Regulus to hang around with Richard Avery and Felix Mulciber unsupervised. Even though he knew that was a totally illogical reaction, particularly considering he was the senior, and marked, Death Eater of the lot of them. "I'll come. Where and what time is it?"

"My place. It's not a formal thing. Mum wanted it to be, but I dissuaded her after what happened last week with Lucius and the others. Officially, the party already started about thirty minutes ago, so you might as well come with me when I leave."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Snape's not coming, is he?"

"No," Avery answered sulkily. "He hasn't returned any letters all summer. Not that Mum would have let me invite him anyway. She only allows purebloods in the manor."

Sirius chuckled. "I should check to make sure the Malfoys aren't quite as picky as the Averys, or where will we hold our planning sessions once we get that halfblood?"

Avery grinned. "The Malfoys are so rich they can't possibly deal only with purebloods. They probably have a designated Impure Sitting Room somewhere to keep the contamination contained."

"They might at that. I'll have to check with Lucretia. I should probably abstain from letting some halfblood track filth all over their favorite Persian rug or something." They both snickered for a moment, surveying the garish opulence around them. It was worse than Grimmauld in terms of ostentation. "Right, I think we're done for the day, Richard. Let's get you to your party."

"You bringing me a present?" Avery asked as he got up and headed towards the floo.

Sirius patted his pockets. "How about your very own pack of muggle cigarettes? I'll be sure to present them to you right in front of your mum."

"Careful if you do. She has a mean bat-bogey hex. Learned it from Miranda Goshawk herself."

"Wicked. It's a deal. I'll meet you there after I tell Narcissa or someone I won't be here for dinner."

"-to you! Happy birthday, dear Richard..." Sirius heard the cheerful chorus as he stepped out of the floo in Avery's parlor, but half the voices stopped singing the moment he did. The anthem was hollow on its final phrase.

Sirius smiled bracingly at the gaggle of current and ex-Slytherins staring at him. "Hi."

"I invited him," Avery said firmly before anyone else could say anything. The others slowly nodded, except Regulus who looked away with a muscle working in his jaw.

Sirius strode forward boldly and clapped the birthday boy on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, mate." He looked for the lady of the house and grinned when he met her eyes. Her expression remained perfectly blank as he withdrew two packs of smokes from his pocket, slapped one into Avery's hand, and pulled a single cigarette out of the other, so there would be no confusion as to what the very muggle-ish gift was. "Cheers. Now you don't have to steal mine."

"Thanks," Avery said sarcastically. "Please don't smoke in here, though. My mother won't appreciate the stench."

Sirius shrugged and sauntered past him towards the open doors to the terrace, lighting up along the way.

"Sirius Black, everybody," Mulciber drawled behind him. One of the girls giggled. Sirius did not hesitate or turn around. Best to let people get tipsy before imposing on them with his presence.

The summer evening was pleasant, at least. The terrace was surrounded by a formal garden, with several nearby fountains drowning out most of the surely scathing conversation behind him. A faint, balmy wind smelling of cut grass ruffled his hair. He just stood there puffing on the cigarette, watching the occasional songbird wing over the hedges. This was fine. He didn't want to be best chums with them anyhow. Nor did he particularly deserve to have a nice time at a party, given how many people he'd killed this week. He'd wait awhile, grab some food, make sure Regulus was still on the straight and narrow, and then he'd leave.

His fingers burned. He cursed and dropped the cigarette butt, then stamped it out with his foot. Absentmindedly, he found and lit another one. He was really going through these things today; the pack had been full this morning. That was when Mrs. Avery slid up beside him. "Those aren't good for you," she told him conversationally.

Sirius grinned darkly. Neither was fighting in a war. He proffered the nearly-empty pack to her, and she wrinkled her nose. "I'm disappointed. Richard thought you'd hex me for bringing these."

"I was tempted."

"What stopped you?"

She smiled faintly. "I've heard enough about you from Richard to know you would be only too pleased to engage in a duel with your hostess. It's a far more effective snub on my part to refrain from rising to your provocation."

"Wise woman," Sirius admitted. His own mother had never figured that out.

She inclined her head gracefully. "I'll confiscate your impertinent gift later." He chuckled, careful to direct his smoky exhale away from her. He recalled he used to quite like Mrs. Elaine Avery, when he was little. "Thank you for looking after Richard, Sirius. Are you fully recovered from your injury?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad to hear it. I was worried about you."

"Were you really?" he laughed.

"Of course." She peered at him, then patted his arm. "You can be as brave a Gryffindor as you want, the mothers in your life will still worry about you."

"You're not my mother," he said, maybe a little more harshly than necessary.

"No, but it seems to me you could use one." She shrugged. "I'm not going to criticize your relationship with Walburga. Merlin knows she's a stubborn woman with a terrible temper. But if you ever need someone to tell you to stop smoking, trim your hair, eat your vegetables, and generally take better care of yourself, there's plenty of us willing to do that for you, now you've come back to the fold. If you'd let us." So saying, she nodded curtly, and headed back inside, leaving him staring after her.

He stayed out on the terrace until the second cigarette burned out, then turned on his heel and ambled back into the parlor. The party appeared to be swinging without him. Mrs. Avery had retreated to a comfortable corner where she could chaperone the young people without distracting them. Most everyone was circled around Avery, clutching drinks, nibbling hors d'oeuvres off of little floating plates, talking, and laughing. Sirius was in luck, though. Regulus was at the buffet loading up a plate of his own. Sirius made a beeline for him.

"Reg?"

Regulus spun around and glowered. "What?"

Sirius winced. "Can we talk?"

"No." He resumed selecting fruit and cheese as if it were the most important thing in the world.

"Reg-"

"I said no."

"Come on, you're going back to Hogwarts tomorrow! I won't have a chance to see you after-"

"You could have seen me all summer if you wanted. But you didn't. You didn't even write."

Sirius scowled. "Well, neither did you," he said petulantly.

Regulus smirked at him. "I'm the younger one. I'm the one who gets to be petty. Not you."

Sirius sighed. "Okay, yeah, I deserve that. I should have written. I'm sorry." He wasn't, not really. Writing to Regulus was dangerous, because he couldn't write anything real. He could not put in writing what he was doing, and certainly not what he was feeling. Nor could he write even a vague warning to Regulus with the risk that someone might see it. Any letters would therefore be misleading pleasantries at best, and at worst a lure to pull Regulus closer to becoming a Death Eater himself.

"You should have come home," Regulus said.

Sirius shook his head. "No, that I can't do."

Regulus didn't look happy, but his reluctance to open up suddenly thawed. He turned to face Sirius directly. "Why not? I mean, I thought I understood when you left to go live with the Potters. I didn't like it, but it made sense to me. You decided to be a blood traitor. Mum cursed you off the tapestry, and I was sad, but that was the end of it. Except it wasn't. Now you're back, not a blood traitor, living with Bella, and fight-"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"Everyone here knows," Regulus protested.

"Everyone?" Sirius said pointedly. "Are you sure? Did you check?"

"Well, no, obviously..."

"Exactly. Walk with me a moment, little brother. And then if you want you can turn your back and never talk to me again."

"...Fine." Regulus handed his laden plate to Sirius, then grabbed another and filled it as well. The two of them walked back onto the terrace and then out into the garden. Regulus opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius forestalled him as he took out his wand and checked for eavesdroppers - both living and magical. There was nothing.

"Better safe than sorry," he explained before stowing his wand away.

"You could come home now," Regulus said stubbornly. "Bella told us she recruited you. Mum's happy about it, mostly. She had Kreacher sew a patch with your name back on the tree."

"Who knew she could be so sentimental?" Sirius muttered.

"Now she's just angry you still haven't come back."

"Trust me, she'd be even angrier if I did come back. I haven't changed just because of this." He flexed his left arm between them. "Mother might approve of what I'm doing, but she'd still hate who I am if I was around to remind her of it every day."

Regulus didn't respond to that, just stared at Sirius' sleeve. "Can I see it?" he whispered.

"No."

"Come on!"

"No."

"You're kidding me. I was always the first one you'd show off to. This is the coolest thing you've ever done, and yet -"

"This isn't a game or a prank, Reg. It's much more serious."

"I know that! I'm joining, too, once I'm done with Hogwarts..."

"No you're not."

Regulus pulled a face. "You can't tell me what to do."

"You want to bet on that?" Sirius said softly. Something in his voice made Regulus pause and really look at him. Sirius smiled grimly and tapped his forearm through his sleeve. "I am telling you this three times, Reg. You do not want this. It is not for you. To take this mark means to become a killer. That isn't who you are."

"But... you and Bella and Lucius took it."

Sirius nodded. "We did." He jerked his head back towards the house. "Avery hasn't. And that stays between us."

Regulus furrowed his brow, looking confused at that information, but he straightened and said stubbornly, "If you can do it, I can too."

Sirius bit back a curse that Regulus wanted to compete with him. He decided to change tack and appeal to his little brother's sense of duty rather than morals or personal safety. That's what worked for Mum, afterall. "This isn't who I want you to be. And it isn't a question of whether you could but whether you should."

"Oh, so you're the only one of us allowed to serve the Dark Lord?"

"That's right. Want to know why?"

"Why?" he asked sulkily.

"Because I'm expendable. You're not."

Regulus' mouth fell open. "But... but you're the heir! I'm the spare!"

Sirius smirked. The reaction was perfect. "You're a better candidate for Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black than I would ever be, Reg, because unlike me, you actually try. That's why Mum hates me so much. When I'm dead, it'll be official, and it's far better for the family if you're un-Marked when the time comes."

Regulus grabbed his hand and stared at him, eyes wide and face pale. "You said 'when.'"

"Hm?"

"You didn't say 'if I die,' you said 'when I'm dead.' Why? Don't you believe we're going to win?"

Sirius forced another grin. "Poor choice of words, sorry. But the Mark is a one-way ticket, Reg. There's no backing out. I'm willing to die in this war." He would die before he let the Death Eaters win. And he would die if Voldemort discovered he was a spy. And he would die or go to Azkaban if he was caught in a losing battle with other Death Eaters, the odds of which would go up the more successful he was as a spy. Really, his only way out was to run to Moody and Dumbledore at just the right time, before it was too late, but not so early as to make himself Bella's and/or Voldemort's next target. He met Regulus' eyes. "I'm not willing to take you and our House with me."

Regulus looked awe-stricken rather than appropriately chastised, annoyingly.

Sirius slapped him on the back. "Buck up, little Bro. Not everyone who supports the cause is Marked anyway. You'll get the chance to ogle your hero again without risking the family to do so."

Regulus blushed and looked down. "I understand, Sirius."

"Good. And don't let Bella bully you into it," he instructed. "Or Mum. If they try, let me know, and I will, actually, come talk sense into Mum and Dad so they can forbid it like they ought to."

"Promise you'll come?"

"I promise." Assuming he wasn't dead, of course. "Don't abuse that, or you'll regret it. I know some pretty nasty curses now."

Tentatively, Regulus reached out and hugged him with one arm. "I'm glad I got to see you, Sirius. And I'm sorry you got expelled."

Sirius hugged him back briefly and smiled. "Come on. Let's get back to the party. I need a drink."

Upon their return, Ursula and Hypatia cornered him and started flirting shamelessly. It was nice for awhile; Sirius had not interacted with any girls besides his married older cousins since leaving Hogwarts. But after a few wine-flavored kisses, Hypatia asked rather breathlessly if they could see his tattoos, which rather soured his mood. He sent them packing with some choice insults.

Mulciber slid by next, raising his eyebrows at the retreating girls' hurt expressions. "I'm quite certain they were talking about the infamous dragon," he commented as he sipped a virulently green cocktail. "It was frequently gossiped about, even in the Slytherin common room."

"Even more scandalous, then, since I'd have to disrobe most of the way for them to see more than little bits of it," Sirius grumbled.

Mulciber grinned. "Yeah, I don't think Mrs. Avery would go along with that plan. And if she did, it would be even worse."

"Piss off, Mulciber."

"Sure thing, Black."

And then came Barty Crouch Junior. Next to the one with Regulus, it was the most awkward conversation of the evening. Sirius futilely probed to figure out how close Barty was to submitting to the allure of the Death Eaters, and Barty attempted and failed to behave like a normal person. The only thing Sirius definitely learned was that Barty was weird. He could make exquisite, cunning and cutting jokes but then blushed and apologized as soon as he told them. He asked repeatedly if he was being annoying. He had a tendency to embark on wild, academic tangents at the slightest provocation, which Sirius was hard-pressed to follow. At odd moments, he would abruptly reign himself in and assume the carefully refined air and expression Sirius recognized as the one all Heirs to noble houses were trained to adopt. The problem for Barty was he clearly wasn't comfortable with the mask. He could put it on, but his excitement, his exuberance, his ferocious wit just kept breaking through. Sirius used to have that problem, until he decided pretending wasn't worth it.

Barty had also shown up at Sirius' elbow clutching an open and completely full bottle of wine, but had yet to drink from it, too enthralled with Sirius' undivided attention. He got the impression the lad was noticed just as little at home as he was at Hogwarts, probably lauded for grades and not much more. It was sad, really. After a painful twenty minutes of chatter, he laid a hand on Barty's shoulder. "Listen, mate, you'll be much, much happier if you stop trying to please whoever it is you're worried about pleasing and just focus on what you want to do with your life." Barty's lip trembled. Sirius' eyes widened. "You're not... tell me you're not going to..." But there were tears forming. "Merlin!" He practically shoved the Ravenclaw boy out of the room. Fortunately they were already standing near the door. He recognized the hallway and guided Barty into the library, slamming the door behind them. Hopefully, no one was paying attention to their hasty exit. He turned to face the now-sobbing Ravenclaw. "Er... are you alright?" he asked awkwardly. Barty nodded but kept crying. Sirius prudently took the large bottle of wine out of his shaking hands. He also grabbed a blank piece of parchment from the nearby desk and transfigured it into a handkerchief. "Here."

"Thanks." He blew his nose noisily.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked after a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-" The mask went back up. "I just need a moment."

"Ah... sure. Well, er, me too. I was just thinking I could use a bit of quiet. Lucky the library's right here. Also lucky you brought this." He raised up the wine bottle again before setting it down on the desk. He inspected a few ink wells and selected the cleanest to transfigure into wine glasses. He poured full glasses for them both and handed one to Barty. "To being Heir to a Noble House," he said ironically. "It's crap."

Barty smiled weakly and clinked glasses. "Hear, hear." He drank deep. He looked down again quickly. His whole demeanor brightened when he snatched up a sheaf of parchment on the desk. "These are next year's notes!" he said excitedly, sorrows bizarrely forgotten.

"Hm?" Sirius peered over his shoulder. "Oh, Richard's ancient runes notes. You're taking runes, eh? Good class. Here lemme see, Richard said I could borrow the ones from the months I missed..." Barty amiably handed him the bottom half of the bundle, and they both leaned against the desk whilst leafing through the papers. Barty went back to happy, academic chatter, thankfully. That was much easier to deal with than ugly-crying. What a Ravenclaw.

The wine bottle was nearly empty, mostly because of Barty, when the library doors burst open again. The rest of the party staggered into the room, led by a swaying Avery. "There they are!" he declared, pointing quite rudely. "Iss nah ffair t'play hide'n'seek withou' tellin' anyone..."

"I found you!" Regulus crowed, grabbing Barty's hand and pulling him out from where he had been comfortably slouching halfway behind Sirius.

Sirius bit his lip to keep from laughing at them. "We weren't hiding. We were just enjoying your excellent notes from Professor Babbling's lectures on Cuneiform and Hieroglyphic phonics." He enunciated his words very deliberately, pleased he managed not to slur. Gryffindors could hold their liquor, not like these lily-livered Slytherins.

Avery gasped. "I knew you'd like 'em!" He snatched the papers from Sirius' and Barty's hands, crushing them to his chest in a messy pile with an expression of supreme joy. He was still holding a half-full cup of what looked like mead, which sloshed dangerously. He staggered closer, exhaling what must be pure alcohol fumes into Sirius' face. "Idsh jus' nah fair! You leave four months b'fore th' end've term an' miss out on th' coolesh dishcovery of th' lash two centuries! Here! Here, you've earnened it." He thrust the wad of paper forwards.

"Yes, thank you very much, Richard," Sirius said gently whilst removing the latest drink from his hands. He figured Avery would be very upset if he woke up tomorrow and found his prized notes had bled away after being soaked in alcohol. Unfortunately, Avery took the opportunity to stuff the bundle of notes down the front of Sirius' robes and then clumsily hug him.

"You're a great boss, Shiriush..."

Mulciber choked on his own drink, and Regulus and Crouch collapsed against eachother, laughing. Ursula chose that moment to succumb to alcohol poisoning and vomit all over her brother Flavius Flint. Mrs. Avery appeared in the doorway with a strained smile. "Darling, it's getting late. I think it's time to let your friends go home. I have hangover cure potion ready and waiting. It's mandatory for those of you boarding the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. For everyone else, optional, but definitely recommended."

Author's note: I don't know what possessed me to write a whole chapter of Avery's birthday party, but... worth it lol. Poor Barty, such a nerd, such an attention-seeker. I'm choosing to believe that though he idolized Bella and Voldemort when he was recruited into the Death Eaters, he wasn't actually insane until after Azkaban and a decade of imprisonment under the Imperius curse.