I've been writing this part for a very long time, and I hope there's someone else here who will read it and maybe even comment.

The chapter contains a lot of information and I wanted everything to jump into place well.

I apologise for any mistakes, I'm still learning. So be prepared for a long chapter. Thank you for your patience.

The world of HP belongs to JKR. Vivian Lake is mine.

Vivian

Two Aurors pointed their wands at us as the metal grating of the elevator opened. Naomi and Kennet lowered their arms quickly, clearly relieved to see Kingsley and me. They only took aim again after seeing Sirius Black behind me.

"Lower your wands," Kingsley commanded in a deep voice. "Black's with us."

"The Minister ordered us to take him," Kennet muttered, pointing his wand at Black over my shoulder without taking his eyes off him.

About four years ago, Naomi, a short, stocky brunette, graduated from the Academy. It was only because of her determination that she passed my course. Despite having no obvious talent for the job, she was able to defeat most opponents through persistence rather than clever attacks. She proved to her friends that waving a wand wasn't enough to win a duel.

Kenneth was a tall, thin man. Having graduated from the Academy three years ago, he believed that I did not like him and that I favoured other students. Despite the fact that I did not play such games, it didn't matter to the boy. On my course, it wasn't about favours or names. You were out if you weren't able to keep up. He didn't have to like me, but he also knew that getting in my way wasn't a good idea.

My head ached, pulsing somewhere in the base of my skull. We still had a meeting with Fudge and his idiots, so I didn't want to argue with anyone.

"Fudge and Amelia Bones are expecting us." King blocked our path with his broad shoulders. "And you're talking to a Senior Auror, boy."

Behind me, I could feel Black's rapid breathing on the back of my neck and his nervous movements. His hand, holding the wand, bounced up and down. I grabbed his wrist quickly, stopping him from throwing any curses around.

Jaw set, his eyes flicked swiftly to Kingsley, who nodded slowly. So he stopped fidgeting and only looked at me reservedly. Of course, he didn't trust me. He didn't know if I would hand him over to the Dementors in a moment, despite saving his life. He probably hasn't yet digested all of tonight's revelations and the consequences associated with them. There would be time for that later.

The young Aurors looked at each other, confused and unsure.

"Rule number 5," I shot at them, taking a step forward. Kingsley gave me an amused look but said nothing.

They stepped back after another glance at each other. This allowed us to step out into the corridor leading to the Department of Wizarding Law Enforcement, the Auror's Office, and the Ministry of Magic's Office.

The Rules.

The Rules were something my students had to learn quickly in my course. There were about thirty of them, usually related to fieldwork or risk assessments. And, as they've already found out, the Rules saved lives.

Rule number 5: Always work as a team.

Gods, I'd give a kingdom for a pain reliever!

We took only three steps when a dishevelled purple head appeared from one office on the right. Tonks dashed out to meet us, followed by a bunch of kids. Lupin walked after them, a pensive expression on his face that changed immediately into a tired smile the moment he saw Black behind us. And then everyone started talking at once.

"We thought you were dead!"

"King said you died!"

"Are you OK?"

"Where's Harry?!"

"What happened to the rest of the Death Eaters?"

"Where's Harry?! Is he okay?"

"How did you get out of there?"

"King, what will happen now? They aren't arresting Sirius, are they?!"

Two girls, one red and one brown-haired, hung around Black's neck, taking turns asking questions. I expected more screams and panic - after all, Black was a wanted fugitive. But what I saw in the Room of Death made me believe he was not at all who the magical world thought he was. Certainly not some Death Eater, since he protected Potter and Lestrange wanted to kill him. I concluded from King's information that my friend and Tonks had been in contact with Black for a long time, just like young Potter had.

Lupin must have thought I would hand Black over. He thought that, like most of the Ministry, I would obey orders. Even though I saved Black and told him I wouldn't leave the man in my care to the Dementors. Even though I made it clear, I wanted to clear him of all charges. Apparently, he had a hard time understanding it, since he was hell-bent on "saving" his friend.

How could I possibly do it, knowing what would happen if I left the man in the hands of someone like Dawlish? Fudge would have disposed of him at once since Black was a witness to his neglect. Azkaban without a trial? It would be the end of Cornelius Fudge if the papers got wind of it.

Ah, not if.

When.

So I helped as much as I could.

My gut feeling told me this was the right thing to do. This was important.

I followed him through the Doors of Death and pulled him out. I got him through a panic attack. And I gave him a reason to fight, as he looked over my shoulder at the unconscious fifteen-year-old boy possessed by a madman moments ago.

Black had then an expression on his face of a man on a mission, whose sole purpose was to spread destruction and mayhem. He would have had no qualms if some Death Eater stood in his way at that moment.

Plus, he didn't even look away from my golden eyes.

I saw a spark in him, a passion that could flare up into an inferno if pushed too hard.

The last descendant of the Black family.

The firstborn son, who's had the magic of tens of generations of wizards and witches in his veins.

I wondered what he would have been capable of if he had no inhibitions. If he had been pushed to the wall and put in a no-win situation. He probably didn't even notice that some of his tattoos lit up when he was shaking with rage over the young Potter at the sight of a possession spell.

I felt magic pulsating, the runes on my hands tingling at the tips of my fingers. Those spells were waiting for my one move to break free and kill them all, beat them to death, drown my sword in their throats, burn their bodies, and scatter the ashes to the wind. So that no one else would hear about them, that the memory of their deeds would die with them. They incapacitated the boy and forced him to do unimaginable things, so the only punishment was hunting them down and killing them.

They would never touch that boy again.

Or any other child, if I had something to say in that matter.

But that was for another time.

As Tonks absent-mindedly turned her hair black while standing next to the man, she gave me a casual wave. Her attention, however, focused on her cousin as she brushed his hair out of his face and checked that all of his pieces were in place. The man himself smiled a tired smile at the girls but said little, only nodded his head and tried to calm them down.

The other two children stood with Lupin, watching everything cautiously. That is, the tall blond boy looked cautious; the blonde girl was staring into space with a slightly absent expression. I walked over to them, nodding to Lupin. The two blondes finally moved and headed for the yelling group.

"I don't know how to thank you," he said immediately, casting a glance over my shoulder. "And I'm sorry for earlier." His eyes focused on me again, and I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Now he's kind, the fucker. "Thank you." His voice was sincere, his eyes only expressing gratitude. "You don't know how much that means to me. To us." He added immediately, as if realising his mistake. "You saved his life."

A bit confused, I just shrugged. Was there something more between Lupin and Black than friendship?

"Nobody deserves to die like that. It's more terrifying than the Dementor's kiss."

"Will you tell me about it a bit more?" he muttered, clearly curious, but eyeing the commotion behind my back warily again.

"No."

He pinned me with his stare again, and the feeling of annoyance from before immediately returned. Who do you think you are? He was pleasant for now, but his first reaction to me was to pull out his wand. When I came out from behind the curtain, he was polite, until I wanted to take Black with me. Lupin liked it when things worked his way. Well, now he'll have another thing coming.

An arm snaked around my shoulder, and Black's tall frame leaned slightly into me. The smell of old leather enveloped me, along with bergamot and the sweet scent of wine. The man grinned madly at his friend and then turned his silver eyes towards me in a silent challenge. It seemed that we understood each other without words. I felt him pull me closer as he lifted the corner of his mouth in response to my raised eyebrow. When I gave him a lopsided smile, amused for a moment by his strange behaviour, he smiled triumphantly. I wrapped my left arm around his waist and dug my fingers into his ribs. Hard.

"Hi, Moony", Black squirmed but didn't take his arm from around me. "You met my new friend, Vivian Lake?"

Lupin nodded and watched us suspiciously, clearly surprised at our closeness. It surprised me as well. Black was clearly a fickle man, swaying from one extreme to another. Or was it something else? Hmm...

Pennu cyflwr iechyd.

Ah, there it was. The Pepper-up Potion stopped working. I could feel his weight now, firmly against me, leaning harder into me with each passing second. And he didn't want to show it.

"Well, darling," I looked up at him with a knowing smile and tightened my grip around him. "I know you can't take your hands from me, but now it's not the time and place for it."

He understood what I was doing, and finally, he smiled at me. It was the first time I saw his smile spread also across his eyes, and the only thing I could think of at that moment was oh fucking shit. It was not what I'd expected; to feel so agitated by the slight pull of his lips upwards and a wicked twinkle in his grey eyes. The sparkle diminished almost immediately, leaving me light-headed and warm. What was that?!

"Darling…," he drawled in a husky voice right into my ear, which made my heart skip a beat and he leaned into me even harder. "You would have to tie me up to keep my hands away from you."

Well, shit.

I guess nothing could have prepared me for that answer.

"Careful, Lord Black." I turned slightly to face him. He really was handsome, despite the dishevelled hair, the shadows under his eyes, and unshaven jaw. Maybe that was exactly the reason. There was something in him. I couldn't name it, but looking at the straight line of his nose and high cheekbones, my stomach twisted weirdly. "First, invite me for dinner. Maybe then I'll look for a leash to tie you up."

He laughed at that, shaking with amusement, the spark entering his eyes again, and continued to stare at me. I held his gaze as his arm wrapped around my shoulders tightened a bit harder, as the corner of his mouth moved a tiny bit up and he took a deep, shaky breath and breathed a sigh of obvious relief.

"You look like a married couple."

Lupin's voice shook us out from our moment and made Black straighten up faster than humanly possible, letting him finally go of me. For a few seconds, he looked at me like there was something in me worth looking at. Then he averted his gaze, a hint of a blush on his unshaven face, giving him a boyish look. I didn't even try to guess what that might mean.

Without a word, I handed him another vial, uncorking it, and dragged him with me to the nearest spear room, ignoring Lupin and his curious expression. Black drowned the potion without a word, sitting on a crate when I locked the door, so no one would interrupt us.

We had some talking to do.

I snapped my fingers, and an old lamp flickered on, giving the room an eerie glow. The shadows only lengthened, yet I could at least see the outline of view crates and shelves and Black's silhouette.

"Tell me about my godson," was his first sentence.

I almost missed it, rummaging among the cabinets, which turned out to be a storeroom. Creates and buckets lined the floor, with some wooden cabinets hanging from the walls. There was dust everywhere, and I wrinkled my nose at the awful smell of stale air and dirt. Pain-reliever. Pain-reliever. Pain-reliever. Pain-reliever.

Godson?!

Inside one drawer, I found a few paper-wrapped outdated vials described as Pain-relief Potions among old inkwells, scrapes of parchment and broken vials. Finally! I drowned the thing in one go and sat heavily next to Black, bumping his shoulder and leaning my head against the brick wall behind us.

"You mean Potter? He's your godson?" Black nodded, looking at me expectantly. "From what I understand, he used a lot of magic. Too much for his body to bear." I took a deep breath, guilt pooling in my stomach for a moment. I needed to tell the man, Potter probably got a broken nose from me. "And he got hit by me." I immediately grabbed Black's forearm, knowing what he was about to do. And I was not wrong. He jumped to his feet, his face twisting into a snarl.

I yanked him hard against me, standing up with him. "My medic and I tried to bring you back to life after I pulled you out from behind the Veil." I tried to speak quickly, drawing words through clenched teeth a few inches from his face, holding his arms between our bodies, communicating as much information as possible before Black decided it wasn't worth listening to me. "Listen to me! Listen, for fuck's sake, you bloody hothead!"

I raised my voice, twisting our hands together. When Black tried to pull away, I didn't let go, pulling him even tighter against my body. Pressed against the brick wall, we stood breathing hard, inches from one another. "You crossed the border again! As if you had died! Your mind, your soul stayed in the afterlife and your body on my cot," I added immediately, seeing him stop struggling against my hold, looking into his eyes and trying to judge if Black would panic in a moment.

There was more anger in him than anything else. His hands twisted in my hold, and finally, I released him from my grip. Taking three steps back, however, he immediately pointed his wand at me, breathing hard.

"Explain."

Clenching my fists and ignoring the stick held out towards me, I continued, pulling my hands up so he could see them.

"The Veil is the border between worlds. When you cross it, it's as if you die. More or less. You can't come back from there without enough magic to open the door again." Wide-eyed, he listened to me quietly and probably tried to hide his fear and anger. His hands were shaking a little, but as I pulled him back down to the boxes, he sat heavily on them, still staring at me, his wand now useless between tattooed fingers. "Long ago, the Arch was used as a death penalty for convicts. The Department of Mysteries is investigating it. And I am helping them."

"Why?" he choked out, finally.

I hesitated for a few seconds: classified information and all that shit. I couldn't tell him too much.

"Because I'm the only person who ever got out of it alive." Finally, I let go of his arm and turned my body over to him, placing my hands in front of me. "Chandler thinks your mind has wandered away because you've been exposed to Dementors for so many years. We tried to get you back, but we had little time. Potter started banging on my office doors and, despite my threats, he wouldn't leave. He started threatening me with his wand." Black snorted at that.

"That's my boy."

I gave him a half-smile and prayed to any gods listening, that the man would finally calm down. He stood up abruptly, raking a hand through his long hair, and started pacing the whole length of the small room. Back and forth he went, making my head spin with the speed he was going.

"I'm sorry I hit him, but it was about your life and about time we didn't have. And a panicked teenager certainly didn't help at a moment like that." I saw him open his mouth to say something, so I added quickly, "As soon as I see him, I'll apologise and explain everything."

Black nodded once, hands on his hips, though he didn't stop pacing. When I heard him take a shaky breath and then another, I really started to think the man was having a heart attack in a moment with all that happened to him today.

And then it hit me.

Azkaban. A small, dark and locked room with no way out.

Black was freaking out.

With a flicker of my wand, illuminations appeared around the room, flooding it with a warm glow. Another spell and a floor-to-ceiling window made their way on the opposite wall, giving the impression of a setting sun over a distant lake. Black stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised.

"It's only a setup for office workers to have a sense of time while sitting actually underground," I explained. "Sit down. Please. You drive me crazy with your walking all around the place."

After a long moment, he nodded, took a deep breath, and sat next to me on the crates. But his gaze was stern and reserved, his feet jolting non-stop from the pent-up emotions. I didn't even want to imagine what was going on in his head. Entering the Ministry, he was a wanted fugitive. He fought a duel, died, came back to life and had a panic attack. If all worked out well, he would leave the Ministry as a free man. All that in a few hours.

"You saved my life. Thank you."

Surprised, I looked at him for a moment. Giving him a once-over, I tried not to act insulted. From anger to gratitude in 15 seconds was probably a record. What a fickle man.

Facing the fake window, Black squirmed in his seat and avoided my eyes, clearly embarrassed that I saw him in such a state. Well, panic attacks weren't anything new to me, looking at my line of work. Field-assigned Aurors deal with a lot of combat, blood and death. And stress. So, panic attacks were not that uncommon.

I gave the man a moment to collect himself.

"Tell me something nobody knows about you."

That surprised him, but that was also the point.

"Why?"

Shrugging, I gave him a tight smile, trying to read anything from his face.

"It's a conversation starter, as anything else. We can always discuss Cuddly's chances for victory in this season, but I don't give a shit about quidditch." He still looked surprised at my words, but then quircked an eyebrow at me, focusing more on answering, than on himself and the panic.

"Something nobody knows about me? That's new. Everybody reading the papers knows everything about me."

The bitterness in his voice was clear. But then he eyed me with a glimmer. Good. Let him continue to wonder, instead of focusing on what awaits us in a few minutes. Eventually, we will have to come out of this storage room and face the Ministry.

"They think they know. That's the difference. Come on, tell me something." I tried to encourage him.

"You first."

Well, now he surprised me.

"Alright, then." I tried to think about something I could mention to him, that was both personal and not compromising. "I can sing."

That made him raise a brow at me, clearly unimpressed.

"A Duelling Master, and that's what I get from you?"

I snorted, taken aback by his comment, but smiled noterless.

"You've got something better?"

"Of course!" He was silent for a moment, as if mentally chewing over his every secret, hesitant to tell me anything at all. "I know how to fight with a sword. I learned it when I was little. Probably the only thing from my childhood that I liked."

I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance.

"Really?!" If he really knew how to fight with a sword, I would have found another practice partner.

However, the momentary joy was short-lived. After all, he hadn't practised for at least 15 years. Besides, he was still an escaped prisoner wanted by the whole Ministry. So no sparring partner for me. For now.

Black only shrugged with one shoulder and leaned his back against the wall behind us, closing his eyes. Stretched out on an old crate, he looked completely drained. Wherever he'd been in those two years, it hadn't worked out for him. What was he thinking about?

Not to drag things out any further, however, I tried a relatively simple question to start with.

"How are you feeling?"

His hand dropped to his stomach and, with a surprised face, he inspected the hole in his shirt as if it was the most exciting thing on earth.

"Alive."

"Good."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to collect my thoughts. Gods and all saints, why me? My watch showed three in the morning.

The right time for overthrowing the government.

"Do you believe in being annoyed at first sight?"

To my surprise, he barked a laugh before turning to face me and raked a hand through his long hair. His expression was now solemn, even worried, and gone was the joking and flirting man from earlier, leaning into me in the corridor. His expression was still guarded, but a flicker of curiosity was also visible in his eyes. With a deep breath, he stretched and twirled his wand between his fingers.

"I hope you're not talking about me."

"No," I sighed, thinking about how this conversation should go. How much could I tell him so he would trust me enough? "I'm talking about Fudge and Crouch." I pulled my cigarettes out and lit one with my finger.

"Crouch's dead." He saw the flickering flame in my hand, but said nothing. Interesting.

"It doesn't matter. I still think he's an asshole." A puff of smoke escaped me, swirling in the space between us. "Everything he had done over the years at the Ministry is coming back to bite us in the ass. He put you in Azkaban without trial, right? He and Fudge."

"Yes."

"They sent me there too," I exhaled another puff of smoke towards the ceiling. "Only for six months, but it was enough for me to hate them from the bottom of my soul." Black's eyes grew wide in shock, as his left hand stopped drumming a rhythm on his thighs and he looked at me with newfound wonder. "You're not the only prisoner sentenced without a trial," I added, voice tight.

Sometimes I wondered how I could still leave them all alive, breathing the same air as other people. Had it not been for these cursed seals, they would not have been among the living for much longer. Crouch's death was a balm to my soul, one of the happiest days in years. He deserved everything that had happened to him.

Black's voice pulled me out of my not-so-pleasant thoughts.

"... you work as an Auror?"

Shifting slightly, I turned to face the man beside me, folding my legs underneath me and leaning hard against the brick wall.

"Pardon?"

"Why did they let you work as an Auror?" The surprise in his voice was clear, and he gave me a very evaluating once-over.

"My advantages outweigh the disadvantages, apparently."

Sitting so close to him was a terrible idea, something pulling me into his person. So I stood up, inhaled the rest of my cigarette, and walked to the other end of the small room. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end with the way he was looking at me.

"What advantages?"

"I can do things that no one else can." I winked at him and stubbed out my cigarette on the wall, immediately pulling out the next and lighting it. "We don't have time to get to know each other better, Lord Black. Trust me. We need to figure out how to get out of this mess."

His eyebrow shot up.

"What do you have in mind?"

Right. What did I have in mind? Fudge was about to fall from his throne. All he needed was a push.

"They will do everything to save face with today's disaster. They won't be particularly concerned about another problem that can quickly get swept under the rug. It would be easier for them if you were dead. If I hadn't pulled you out from behind that Veil."

Black just snorted, disgusted, as if the mere thought made him nauseous. But his expression immediately changed to something harder, stronger, with fire and power and magic all mixed into something very tangible and beautiful. Terrible and beautiful.

"Well, they're going to have to deal with it." He straightened up in his seat, and in his reciprocated look, I saw only the power of the decision made. "I'm not walking anywhere but straight through the front door. There's no way in hell I'm returning to prison."

"Of course not," I blurted, shifting to the magical window. "They won't know what to do with us. If they clear you, they'll admit they're wrong, which is another blow to them and a point for us. But that's our goal."

"What about you?" Black asked after a pause. "You talk about us as if they could accuse you of anything. You stopped Bella, didn't you? It deserves a standing ovation and a First Class Order of Merlin."

I tried not to frown at that. I'm not Miss Popularity in the Ministry, so that the people at the very top try to make anything easier for me. They respect me because they need me. But they have never liked me enough not to take advantage now. On the other hand, I had Amelia, King and I think Rufus behind me. If they let Skinner in, there's a chance the whole thing will go painlessly and getting Fudge off his chair won't be so complicated after all. Too many unknowns, still.

"I don't think you know the Ministry very well. They will definitely try blaming everything on me. Or actually on us."

"What a pair we make, then." Sirius Black grinned then at me despite the gravity of the situation hanging over us. "You helped me escape. They'll want to get to you. They'll either fire you or put you in prison just to make a point."

I pulled out another cigarette and gave him a broad, unhappy smile. Leaning against the wall behind me, I exhaled more smoke, thinking of all the things I could have done to Cornelius if it weren't for those damn seals. Eventually, I turned to Black, trying to control the emotions in my voice.

"I'd sooner have myself take the Dark Mark than go back to this damned place," I mumbled angrily as I pulled on the tip of my cigarette. Black was surprised, but said nothing. "No, Lord Black. They won't put me in Azkaban." I took a drag again and smirked at him. "They can't lock me up because they'd have to catch me first if that idea even crosses their minds."

Black smiled back, a knowing smile. What was going on in his head? I couldn't figure him out when he looked like that. It's as if he knew something I didn't realise yet.

"You're not the avenge Auror, aren't you?"

That made me really smile for a moment. You have no idea.

I leaned against the wall at the far end of the room, as far from him as possible, and smiled over my cigarette.

"What gave me away?"

The man stood up from his seat and took a deliberate step toward me, never taking his eyes off me.

"You're sitting in a dark storeroom, with a locked door, together with a wanted fugitive and alleged murderer. You either lack common sense or know very well what you're doing." What did he see when he stared at me as if there was anything to look at? "If you asked me, I'd say you are the most sensible person I have met in a long time. And you didn't try to kill me. That's always a bonus."

I won't say, he made me smile. He assessed the situation. He drew conclusions. Not necessarily correct, but that's okay. Apparently, besides a pretty face, he also had a brain.

"For the sake of this conversation, there is no trying. If I wanted to kill you, you would be long dead." I straightened up and made a step towards the man, the smoke swirling in the air between us. Magic buzzed in my head. "Just between us two, rather, I'm the more dangerous one here. And no, it's not arrogance speaking, it's just skill." I gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. "Why would I want it in the first place? I mean, kill you?"

He took one more step toward me so that we were only two feet apart. The smell of worn leather and bergamot mingled with the dust and smoke in the room. Something was buzzing in the air as we stared at each other. Bloody hell.

"There's something in my face, I assume, that makes people scream seeing me."

Oh, gods, there certainly was. But not in the way he currently thought.

The soft rasp of his voice made me shiver for a second when I felt my stomach leap up in my throat.

"Rule number one." I tried to hide the momentary confusion with his words however, the slight tremor in my voice betrayed me.

"What?" Now he was confused.

I waved my hand dismissively, trying to get away from that piercing look of grey eyes. There was only a wall behind me, no way out.

"Oh, there's a set of rules in my course by which we work. Rule number one says: Never make assumptions. It's deeper than at first glance. Look again."

He made another step forward, backing me almost against the wall, and leaned into me, studying me with interest. His eyes lingered on my left side with the scar marring my face. Everybody looked at this particular scar as if it were the most interesting thing on earth. I already thought he was going to ask about it like hundreds of people before, to satisfy his sick curiosity, but Black didn't. The corner of his mouth moved up a tad, his head tilted a bit to the right, and I saw something utterly amazing in his gaze.

Admiration.

It would have been better if I hadn't seen anything.

"Not a terrible rule, if it saved my life." That voice of his was merely a whisper, "I assume that you'll take me to Bones and Fudge," he continued as if nothing had happened.

Bloody. Fucking. Thing. English couldn't fully convey in words what I had just felt. Where's a good curse when you need one!?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to regain my voice, but all I could do for those few seconds was stare at him. His lips curled up, and finally, I swallowed. He knew damn well what effect he had on me.

"In a minute. I hope you won't think less of me after we go through with the Minister."

Why did I say that?! Why would I care, what Sirius Black thought about me?!

"Why would I?"

I took a deep breath to finally regain control of this conversation. Did it take so little for some stranger to mess with my head? Who was Sirius Black, really?

"For them, I'm a liar, a killer, a cheat." Finding my voice again was a challenge. "You can't believe everything they say. They tolerate me because I'm the most effective at what I do. And they will do whatever they can to put me in a cage and control me."

His gaze, at my words, was very evaluative. And sobering.

I realized Sirius Black didn't know me, he knew nothing about me. I was stuck in the belief that we had known each other for years, as if I was talking to King or Amelia. I could feel his gaze on me all the time, grey eyes sliding over my face, body and hands as I tried to figure out what to say. There was some connection between us that I couldn't explain in words, so I took a deep breath as I tried to regain my balance. Again.

Gods, his eyes. His eyes were doing something weird to me. In this illuminated room, they turned from grey to black with a flicker of gold in them, and somehow I couldn't stop staring at them as they moved up and down my body. I had the impression that they would swallow me up in a moment, like a high wave in a stormy sea. Like the water in a thunderstorm, something dangerous was boiling under the man's surface as well.

"You are something else," I heard his soft rasp as we stared at each other. Something twisted again inside me at the sound of that voice.

"I don't like being ordinary. It's boring." Flashing him a hesitant smile, I reached for my cigarettes again, this time noting his displeasure. He was so close that I could wave my hand into his hair or scratch his unshaven jaw. Bloody fucking hell!

What the fuck happened to me to act like a child in front of some stranger? I kept people at a distance, always. In sixteen years, there were only three people I could one hundred percent call friends. There were a few people whom I trusted to a certain extent and who fairly understood and accepted me. But most people I preferred to keep at a distance, minding my own business and not interfering.

So what changed? Why now? There was no doubt in my mind that the man in front of me was important, and every cell in my body was shouting for me to intervene. The feeling was as strong as when I was a little girl and met Cadfael for the first time. Something told me that it was Sirius Black, like Cadfeal before, who would play a significant role in my life.

Damn it all to Hellheim and back.

"Nasty habit," he muttered.

I pulled the pack out towards him and with a crooked smile, he reached for a cigarette.

"They're the best."

Lighting them both with a snap of my fingers and inhaling the smoke, at last, I almost regained my composure. What was this guy doing to me?

"You're not using your wand. Why?"

"For this?" Snapping my finger again, a flame flicked to live. "Please," I rolled my eyes at him. "Do you need a wand for this?" The fire danced on my outstretched hand. "Too much work."

Black still looked on with doubt and waved his wand, the tip of which now illuminated the flame.

"That's the purpose of the wand. To help do the spell."

"Pff."

"Pff?! That's your answer?"

"We can discuss magic theories and wandless spells later on, but right now there are more pressing problems, wouldn't you think?"

Finally, he nodded and looked away, inhaling the smoke eagerly. As he held out his hand with a cigarette in front of him, he seemed astonished by this turn of events.

"I don't remember the last time I smoked."

"Better not tell anyone you got it from me. They'll think I led you down the wrong path."

"That would be something!" he burst out suddenly, laughing merrily. "Usually I was the one who corrupted everyone."

"You have competition."

He took a long drag, almost shaking as the smoke poured into his lungs. Then, as he blew the smoke towards the ceiling, the tension in his arms faded a touch, though his left leg was still jolting nervously.

I didn't want to promise him it would be all right, that he would leave the Ministry as a free man. There were too many unknowns, too many people influencing the last course the Ministry would take, to accurately predict whether the plan in my head might have worked out.

Compromise Fudge. Get Amelia in his place. Get free from the Ministry. From Rufus, too. Free Black from the charges. Submit a notice of termination from work. But first...

"Tell me everything. About your arrest. Anything I can use against them."

His scowl at my words spoke for itself.

He wasn't willing to share it with someone he didn't know at all and whom he didn't trust. As he took another drag on his cigarette, he leaned dangerously close to me. Light flickered in his dark eyes and he silently stared. I watched him stare at me as he dragged on his cigarette and inhaled the smoke with fervour. I meet his searching eyes with a quirked eyebrow and another drag of smoke, shifting even closer to him. Only several inches separate us from touching.

"You're trouble, woman."

My lip twitched.

"Around here, it's called having fun. Maybe you heard about it? Or did that pathetic cell in Azkaban break everything in you?"

I knew it didn't. He wasn't a broken man, there was too much fire in him to be truly lost.

His lips split into a wolfish grin.

"Who are you again? Because I'm sure not a lawyer. Why do you want to know? What for? What will you get out of it?"

Well, what will I get out of it?

Satisfaction to watch a little man lose everything he valued so much. Status, the office he held, money, power. This was the right time to get rid of Cornelius Fudge. With Amelia taking over his position, there would be no need to create a binding seal spell on another person to take over the position as Minister of Magic.

Unknowingly, I grabbed my left forearm, which did not escape Black's attention, as he looked at my tattoo with interest. Amid dozens of lines, runes and symbols, he would not notice the seal of the unbreakable oath, six round symbols that bind me to six people. Fudge, Bones, Dumbledore, Chandler, Skinner, Scrimgeour. The seventh belonged to Crouch, but the asshole was fortunately already dead.

"I hate Fudge. More than you can imagine. After Crouch, he's another person I'd see dead, preferably in a pool of blood begging for mercy." I gave him a narrow smile, putting the cigarette to my mouth again. I fell back against the wall behind me with a sigh and a puff of smoke. "But a girl can't have everything, so I'll be content with his fall from grace. For now."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"Why do you?"

"You know why."

"Say it."

It came out more like a command than anything else, and I saw Black's pupils widen with surprise. And something more. Need. Want. His hands clenched at his sides as he sucked air into his lungs.

Oh, bloody hell!

I pulled away from him, shifted against the wall behind me, walking to the other end of the room, as far away from him as possible.

"You know, I don't remember you from school." When he turned, he was standing against the wall facing me, several feet away. "You can't be older than me, and I wouldn't forget such a face." I just gave him a crooked smile and waited for what he would say next. "Maybe you're Malfoy's cousin? Some extended family, maybe? The resemblance is striking."

I rolled my eyes, amused.

Of course, the first thing people thought of was the Malfoy's. As soon as I started working in the Ministry, every new person I met asked if I was related to them. Lucius Malfoy, too, always looked at me with a certain amount of curiosity, but never brought up the subject. Maybe in fear that it would turn out that we were related. Everyone just kept saying that the similarity was unheard of. However, I found nothing in the archive to show that we share the same blood or ancestor. On the other hand, the archive of the Ministry of Magic only dated back to the time since its foundation, so less than 300 years. And the old families, like the Malfoy's and the Blacks, had their own chronicles, probably going back to the Middle Ages or even further.

At the moment, Lucius and I lived in blissful ignorance. I tried not to think about it too often.

"You think I'm a Malfoy? A pure-blood witch?"

"Are you not?"

"A Malfoy? Or a pureblood?" I stalked towards him, trying with all my might to distract him from my person. "Does it matter, Lord Black?"

"No," came his response. "But I don't know where to put you in. I just have this feeling. I should know you, for some reason." His face was puzzled as he held my gaze.

I threw him a bone.

"I'm 32 years old. Turning 33 in view months. I didn't attend Hogwarts or any other wizarding school. I'm mostly self-taught. I don't know if I'm related to the Malfoy's. Blood status is idiocy, so I won't even bother." Three feet apart, we were back to the staring contest. The cigarette in his hand turned to ash long ago, but I don't think Black noticed. "If that helps you, the Sorting Hat didn't know where to put me. I asked a few years ago out of curiosity."

Slytherin or Ravenclaw? What would you have chosen? A soul as old as yours… there is no need to limit it. Your magic is…. It's not for me to decide your fate. A Ravenclaw's mind and a Slytherin's heart. Dangerous indeed.

"And?"

"It couldn't decide if I belong to Ravenclaw or to Slytherin."

In the end, I surprised him. All night long, I saw the palette of his reactions. From panic, fear and horror, to amusement, joy, anger, and now shock for the second time.

"A Slytherin?! A fucking Slytherin?!"

"You forget I didn't go to Hogwarts and spoke to that old hat when I was 18. But it doesn't matter now. We have to go, because King is about to break down the door any minute now."

Black shook himself suddenly and looked me straight in the eyes.

"So what's your plan? Because you definitely have one. I don't think you put yourself at risk even more if you didn't have any idea how to end this."

"You know, we're sitting in this together. Whether you trust me or not, we're sitting in this together. And we're only going to get out of this together."

He was still measuring me with a strange twinkle in his eye. He huffed suddenly, shook his head in disbelief, and looked at me again.

"You're serious. You really want to help me." He was staring at me and shaking his head, and I was beginning to wonder what was going through his mind this time. Was it so strange that I wanted to help him? I had my reasons, of course, but he didn't need to know that right now. "You don't know me, woman. You have no idea who I am or what it means to stand by my side." His fierce and completely serious expression showed that he was not joking. When he put his hands on my shoulders, I knew how much his words cost him. "Thank you. That you believed you could help me. Just for a moment. I can't put you at risk of losing your job or being sent to Azkaban. You don't deserve it after saving my life several times. Do you understand me?" he asked, cocking his head to meet my eyes. "You're strangely quiet." He added hesitantly.

And here came to light that famous Griffindor nobility in full glory. Gods, no wonder the Order was losing this war.

Shaking his hands off my shoulders, I took a few steps away from him. I needed to keep my mind clear.

"You didn't understand me, Sirius. I'm sure we'll leave the Ministry as free people. I know what it means to be a losing cause. I used to think that nothing and no one could help me. And now I stand here in front of you, alive. And I wish you would trust me. Because I used to live like you. In fear that they would lock me up again with these monsters. But now I have a few people who support me and I know that anything is possible if you have the nerve to get through with it. "

He kept looking at me with doubt and disbelief and nodding in denial. After all, he couldn't come in from the storeroom and storm his way by force through the entire staff of Aurors and Ministry personnel.

"Don't let these idiots provoke you, don't respond to their jabs, comments and questions unrelated to what happened when you were arrested. You must keep a cool head or they will eat you alive. I'll take care of keeping them in line."

"We're going to Fudge's office. Ignore all allegations that will relate to today's events. Don't get caught up in their games or they will beat you with experience."

"So what should I tell them?"

"What you should have been able to tell them fifteen years ago. The truth." I grabbed his shoulder tightly and squeezed. "Look at me." When he finally fixed his gaze on my face, I saw the truth hiding in his eyes. Only now did he lower his guard, and he was terrified. "I got you."

Sirius stared at me for a very long moment. I couldn't make out anything on his face.

He nodded then, once, picked himself up and eyed the door behind my back with a new resolve.

"Look, there's always another option. If we can't blow them away with our brilliance, we will baffle them with our bullshit."

His laugh took me completely by surprise.

My hand was at the door when I felt him grab at my elbow. Sirius Black gently squeezed my shirt sleeve and leaned into my ear.

"Won't you let them lock me back in jail?"

I felt his warm breath on my cheek and the smell of leather and bergamot wrapped around me. There were so many emotions playing in his last sentence that I didn't know what to say for a moment. Hope. Expectancy. Uncertainty. Anger. Fear.

I forced myself to look up into his face and saw the turmoil also in his eyes.

"No."

"Good."

I squeezed his palm for a brief moment.

"Come on. We have some motherfuckers to prove wrong."

Pennu cyflwr iechyd - determine a health condition