Sirius glamoured his hair to Malfoy blonde and conjured the dorkiest glasses frames he could imagine for his trip to St. Mungo's. He didn't know how recognizable he was to the general public at this point, and he'd rather not be noticed. Fortunately, the witch who got into the lift with him had more important things to think about than him, what with the rapidly multiplying ears all over her head and shoulders. Sirius pressed the button for the fourth floor for her when her index finger turned into yet another ear. He pressed the button for the 5th floor for himself. It was only marked as the visitor's tea room and gift shop, but the floor also housed the maternity ward. It was unlabeled in part because it was only infrequently occupied, most British witches preferring to give birth at home with their families. The other part was discretion, since the witches most likely to make use of the hospital either lacked familial support or faced dire birthing complications that could make for terrible gossip fodder in the small wizarding community.

The door slid open, and Sirius walked past the gift shop to the closed door just around the corner marked as the Hesper Starkey Ward. A plump witch in a nurse's uniform sat at a small table next to the door, a pile of parchment and a Witch Weekly next to her.

"I'm here to see Narcissa," he said.

She studied him a moment, then waved him in with the comment, "Nice hair. I'd lose the glasses if I were you. Your cousin won't be amused." He grinned. She'd been here two days ago, too.

"I'll take it under advisement."

Unlike the other floors, every bed on this ward was private. Narcissa's was still the largest and most luxurious, naturally, down at the end of the hall so it got the benefit of a corner with windows on two sides. Dobby opened the door to his knock and let him in with a happy smile and many bows.

"Master Sirius is here, Mistress!"

Narcissa was reclining against a mountain of pillows reading the newspaper. She looked paler than usual but otherwise well. She glanced up when he entered. "Hello, cousin. Your disguise is ridiculous. Get rid of it."

"Hey Cissy. How are you feeling?" He removed the glasses and pocketed them, but he left the hair blonde.

"Fatigued. The headaches are much better with the potions, though. I see my mother-in-law is officially dead. The auror who was in to ask me about what happened said you attested to her presence at my father's house with us but weren't sure if she had made it out alive. I didn't remember that. Of course, the healers say I shouldn't expect to remember much."

Sirius winced. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Why? Did you kill her?"

"No."

"Then don't be sorry. I understand I've you to thank for bringing me here. Thank you, Sirius. Lyra and I would not be here without you."

Sirius crossed over and sat on the edge of her bed. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Cissy. I was frightened for you."

She smiled softly. "Honestly, I probably should have realized something was wrong and come here sooner. It's just, well, there was rather a lot going on, you know."

"I know."

"How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine."

"That isn't what I asked."

"I know." They smiled sadly at each other again. "A lot of people had it worse."

"I'll miss Alexis. And Evan, I suppose." Alexis Carrow was one of the six Death Eaters whose bodies the Ministry recovered at Foulness. Narcissa tossed the paper aside. "What a mess. It's a lovely time for me to be admitted to the hospital, isn't it?"

Unsure how to take that, Sirius cleared his throat and asked, "How's Lyra?" He looked around and spotted the bassinet on the sunny side of the room, under a sheer screen. He noted the bubble head charm was gone.

His cousin finally donned a happy expression. "She's doing well. The healers say the sunlight is good for her right now. She had a tough time of it with the seizure too, but there should be no long-term damage."

"Lucius was happy to see her, I think."

Her eyes misted. "Really?"

He nodded. "I was there when they brought her to meet him. I wouldn't say he was fully lucid, and he couldn't hold her by himself, but I think he understood for at least a moment that she was his child. And he was very happy."

"That's good. Very good." She wiped her eyes.

Sirius looked away. "He loves you so much, Cissy. He's not all there any more, but that much is."

"I know... Sirius, I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure. What is it?"

"I don't know if Lucius will ever recover. And because of that, Lyra needs a very strong godfather. I'd like that to be you."

Sirius looked back at her quickly. "Me?" She nodded. "I'm honored, Cissy, but... what makes you think I'd make a good godfather, let alone a 'very strong' one?" The only venues he'd proven himself particularly talented in were violence and espionage, which didn't really bode well for his capabilities to be a responsible adult.

"Because if I trust her to you, I am confident that you will do everything you can to protect her and her interests. Even if it means going against your own desires."

"I'm not sure where you get that impression, Cissy."

She raised an eyebrow. "Because I know you, far better than you think I do."

Sirius barked a laugh. "I think you might have a better opinion of me than I do."

"Unless that self-deprecation becomes self-defeating, you're still my top pick for godfather. Think about it, Sirius. When you decide to step into your power, one way or another, you will be the strongest defense she could possibly have. Besides, who else could I ask? Regulus is sweet, but he could never fight for Lyra against people who would try to use her, not as you can. Half of Lucius' friends have been imprisoned or killed in the past year. Dolph already has two other masters..."

Bella and Voldemort. "One of those is mine, too," he pointed out. He wondered what she meant by him "stepping into his power."

"Of course," she agreed.

"Something could happen to me," he warned. "Reggie's the safer pick."

"My daughter has come into the world in the middle of a war as the sole heiress to a traditionally patriarchal house," Narcissa said bluntly. "She needs a lion to defend her, and you're the only Gryffindor I can stand, let alone trust. If you die on me, I will be very angry."

"Alright, alright. Assuming I survive until the ceremony, I'll be Lyra's godfather."

"You're being very fatalistic, Sirius."

Sirius rubbed his right hand over his left forearm, which had just started to burn. "Yes, well, as you said there's a war on. I've every reason to be. Sorry, Cissy, I have to go." She looked at his arm and nodded silently. "How long will you be here?"

She contrived a thoughtful expression. "Hard to say. Could be many days yet if I need, or want, it to be. But I'll probably check myself out the day before Father's funeral or something. Auntie had Kreacher set up a nursery at Grimmauld to use until the aurors are done ransacking Father's house."

He leaned forwards and kissed her cheek. "Enjoy your rest, then. I probably won't be able to visit here again."

"Be safe, Sirius. Or if not, at least take care of yourself."

"I'll do my best." He got up and walked over to the bassinet. He stared down at the sleeping infant and stroked her sunny cheek. He nodded at Dobby, sitting by the bassinet and busily knitting something bright and colorful. The house elf beamed at his acknowledgment.

He left to face the coming storm.

Sirius had assumed Voldemort would fly into an even greater rage now that it was clear his horcruxes were exposed. He didn't. Rather, the Dark Lord that summoned him to Lestrange manor was unnervingly calm. Cold. Collected. He sat between Rodolphus and Dolohov like a king on a throne. Bella stared at him from under her black mourning veil as if he were a god, and he ignored her admiring gaze completely. Sirius realized he was seeing an afraid Lord Voldemort for the first time. So afraid, he could not let any emotion escape his untouchable façade, even to his most trusted followers. Sirius silently took the chair next to Dolohov.

Voldemort did not of course say in so many words that he had made multiple horcruxes and that the Order of the Phoenix had destroyed two of them. He did not say that he had destroyed Little Hangleton, and no one was foolish enough to ask about it. But he ordered that Madeye Moody must die at the earliest opportunity, higher priority even than Crouch. He did not explain why but moved on brusquely as if it were an unimportant matter, to the gripping subject of Bella's plans for Cygnus' funeral.

The funeral was shaping up to be a properly grand event, Bella informed them proudly, with processionals planned through London, Wiltshire, and Devon. The Prewitts finally agreed to participate after receiving personal condolences and invitations from Lord Black. More convincing was the public declaration that anyone profaning the ceremonies with violence would be the enemy of the House of Black and its allies for all time. And so the body of Cygnus Black would occupy the first of three thestral-drawn carriages, with Lucretia Malfoy and Muriel Prewitt following in his wake. As expected, Bartemius Crouch had declined the invitation to join, and Lord Black did not extend the invitation to anyone else who had died that weekend. A Black did not mix with those not of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and it would have been bad press to invite the Rosiers or Rowles when Evan's body had been recovered in Death Eater regalia at Foulness and William Rowle was only "missing" not dead.

"And as for mourners..." Bella continued with the unique relish of a highborn lady planning the social event of the season.

Dolohov poured a fourth shot of vodka for himself and silently conjured another glass that he offered to Sirius. The Russian looked how Sirius felt, his eyes dull with boredom as Bella continued to explain the details of the multiple ceremonies, receptions, guest lists, dress codes, and disguise measures for those like herself who must attend but mustn't be seen. Sirius accepted the shot glass and filled it. It seemed Voldemort was done talking about anything potentially horcrux-related, rather a let-down considering how much Sirius had been stressing about it all day. And Sirius had nothing to contribute to the current discussion, really. Bella and his parents were planning everything.

Whenever he thought about the funeral, Sirius felt depressed and resigned about the whole thing. He couldn't bring himself to resent being forced to mourn Uncle Cygnus. Part of him might even be mourning Uncle Cygnus, underneath the weightier griefs and guilts he was also dealing with. Cygnus had been unusually nice to him for the past year. He expressed pride in Sirius as he never had before, misplaced and grotesque as that pride had been. He even helped shield Sirius from Orion and Walburga.

Sirius mentally scolded himself for thinking at all fondly of his thoroughly wicked uncle. He knew why he was entertaining such ridiculous sentiments. It was because he was grieving the death of the only actually positive father figure he'd ever had and seeing reminders everywhere. He wished foolishly the funeral could have expanded to every family who had lost someone, on both sides of the war. He would have liked it if he could have honored Fleamont Potter at the funeral. He would have liked it if he could have honored the people he had killed, too. Evan. Felix. Salim Sarwar. Elphias Doge. Edgar Bones. Jessica, Ivan, John, Marcia, Billy, Barbara... so many muggles he could no longer name them all. Everyone Felix had cursed for him. Abraxas. Even Rabastan.

Sirius poured more shots for him and Dolohov, then dug in his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes too. Dolohov immediately snitched one and conjured a tiny flame on his fingertips for them both to light up. Sirius took a deep drag. The faint buzz was welcome, but unsatisfying. He felt so... hollow. He had resisted feeling guilt and regret for the necessary murders for a long time, but now... Oh, Merlin, he regretted them all. Even the ones he believed were justified just hurt so much right now. If he could cut away the parts of his soul that felt this bad...

His attention was jarred back to the matter at hand when Voldemort asked when Regulus would be coming home from Hogwarts. His little brother's name on the Dark Lord's lips was horror enough to pull him out of his maudlin self-pity.

"Not until the day before the funeral," Bella answered. "And I've arranged for Siri to meet with him at Uncle Alphard's house."

"You did? How did you manage that?" Sirius had been sure Walburga would use this as a chance to force him to return to Grimmauld.

Bella grinned. "Auntie knows how important this is even if she doesn't know the details. There's going to be people at Grimmauld that we can't risk overhearing..."

"Thanks, Bella," Sirius said, completely genuine in his gratitude.

"You'll still have to go home for the ceremony itself, you know, Siri."

"I know. But still, thanks." He was still hoping to find a way not to cross the threshold into Grimmauld. Voldemort wouldn't care. Probably.

"I have never been to Alphard's house. Where is it?" Voldemort asked.

"It's a cottage, not far from Daddy's," Bella answered.

Voldemort nodded. "Tell me about Regulus."

"Oh, he's such a sweet boy. Very smart. Very polite. Much more obedient than Siri ever was," Bella gushed.

"A conformist. So he will do as he's told?"

Bella nodded happily. Sirius hesitated at something in the Dark Lord's tone. "If he's capable of it," he hedged.

The Dark Lord leaned forwards. "And what would you expect your brother to be incapable of, Sirius?"

"He's... gentle, my Lord. Like Richard Avery. He is untested. A rule-follower. There's some things I just doubt he'd be ready for as a seventeen-year-old Hogwarts student. That said, I expect he would agree to attempt just about anything I'd ask of him, but only because he has always wanted to prove himself against me. He does not like to admit any limitation even to himself, which is itself a weakness."

Voldemort laughed, though there was no humor in his tone. "It is, isn't it? Ironic, that he has made himself such a perfect facsimile of the Heir Black your parents wanted you to be, while lacking one of your greatest and most surprising virtues. You voice pride only where it is truly earned, unusual for one of your class. Your point is taken, but I will not be tasking him with anything beyond an ordinary student's abilities. He will not need to murder or even kidnap on my behalf. Not right now."

Sirius nodded gratefully. He wanted to keep Regulus as far away as possible from the war. And for as long as possible. He breathed in more smoke.

"Is your brother an Occlumens?"

"Yes, although as he was not the heir, he did not start his training until he was... twelve, I believe. I cannot attest to the degree of his proficiency. My father could."

Voldemort shook his head. "If Regulus has enough training to construct a basic shield, that is enough. No Hogwarts professor, not even Dumbledore, would push past it without reason, and from what you say, they would have no reason. I will meet with your brother personally to instruct him in his assignment, at Alphard's house. Make the arrangements."

He coughed on his next inhale. "My Lord?" Sirius asked without thinking, and coughed again. It was hard to think when his pulse had just accelerated to twice its normal rate and he was drowning in fear for his naïve little brother. Reggie had an assignment now?! They weren't just information-gathering?

"I said I will meet with your brother myself," Voldemort said, voice soft, silken, and dangerous. It was a tone that brooked no questions.

"Of course, my Lord."

"Reggie will be honored," Bella said firmly.

Sirius forced a grin he absolutely did not feel and wandlessly vanished the rest of his cigarette. "Honored? He'll be star struck. I'll make sure to go in first and forbid him from asking for your autograph, telling you you're his hero, showing off his collection of newspaper articles about you, trying to shake your hand without permission, and drooling in excitement or otherwise annoying you with celebrity-worship, my Lord. He's literally got a homemade shrine in your honor in his bedroom. I bet it's only grown in the last few years since I left. Fair warning, he might shit himself in excitement at the very sight of you."

Dolohov choked on his latest shot of vodka. Sirius hit him on the back. Rodolphus smiled and shook his head.

"He won't be that annoying, Siri!" Bella scolded. "He's come of age and everything! He's well trained to comport himself with dignity."

"I know, I know, but imagine how embarrassed he'll be when I make that little speech to him. Very loudly so he knows the Dark Lord can hear."

"Well," Voldemort said after a moment of silence. He did not smile even a little bit at Sirius' joke. "How nice to be worshipped so completely."

There wasn't much for Alastor Moody to do in Little Hangleton after the first few hours. All the fires were out, even the Fiendfyre that had consumed the empty old Riddle House. The Longbottoms were working on clearing out the traps around the Gaunt shack. There were barely a thousand surviving residents left to obliviate once the stragglers who had fled the village were all rounded up, although the obliviators were still tracing the second-hand witnesses down in Greater Hangleton. Thus when the listening spell on the portrait he kept in his pocket activated, the miniaturized version of himself having just left Sirius Black, he left Alice in charge and went straight to Hogwarts. He and Albus Dumbledore listened to the portrait's report together.

"Albus... are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"Perhaps. Are you thinking 'thank Merlin Sirius is still amongst the living'?" Albus replied, staring into the fireplace.

"Well, that, but also, three horcruxes left. One was with Nott but has been moved, probably to You-Know-Who's person for now. One of the others has something to do with Regulus Black's mysterious assignment."

"Yes, I was thinking that as well."

"Do you think he's moving a horcrux to or from Hogwarts?"

Albus watched the fire for a long time. "From," he said finally. "Sirius believes Voldemort is afraid, and I trust his instincts on that at least. The only place in Hogwarts Voldemort could possibly consider moving the horcrux to in these circumstances would be the Chamber of Secrets, but he would not use young Regulus for that. No, he hid a horcrux here, somewhere..."

"Why? Why would he hide one here?" It seemed ludicrous to Alastor to hide part of one's soul in the stronghold of one's greatest enemy. If he were in Voldemort's shoes, he probably would have hidden the horcruxes abroad, or perhaps in naturally secluded areas like caves or remote, unpopulated islands. The only practical advantage of hiding it in Hogwarts was that with such intensely magical surroundings, the protections on the thing would blend into the background.

Albus shrugged. "Thumbing his nose at me? I honestly did not see this coming. And perhaps we are wrong and he has some other nonviolent task in mind for young Regulus, but it would be extremely remiss not to look."

"Okay... where should we start?"

"I haven't the foggiest. I find myself feeling much more sympathetic with the Sirius of several months ago all of a sudden."

"Well, we've got a week to find it before Regulus comes back with his instructions. Let's think. He can't have left it in the main parts of the castle where a student could stumble over it by accident."

"Unlikely, no. Although a student wouldn't know what it was, the corrupting influence would have caused some kind of disruption by now..." His blue eyes widened. "Actually, we should probably check the Defense classroom, office, and quarters."

"Why would he hide a horcrux in the office of the one person besides yourself most likely to be able to recognize it?" Alastor asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Insanity perhaps? I wouldn't say it was logical, but if he did, it would explain why everyone I hire for the job ends up fired, dead, hospitalized, in prison, or otherwise indisposed by the end of the year, every year, ever since 1967 when I turned down his application for the Defense post. As you might imagine, we never looked specifically for horcruxes in the previous sweeps of that classroom and office since the curse became apparent."

Alastor paused, thinking about it. He had been involved in arresting one delinquent professor back in 1974, and had been one of the first to take the suggestion of a curse on the position seriously. But then the war accelerated, and then he was promoted. He had rather lost interest in the unfortunate Hogwarts quirk since then except for its deleterious effects on prospective auror recruits. He shuddered and nodded. "Yes, that would explain a lot of things, wouldn't it? I'll help you search."

The two of them walked through the darkened halls down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the 3rd floor. Alastor stopped in the entrance, taking in the familiar rows of student desks and the stairs spiraling up to the professor's office. He scanned the room with his magical eye, looking for concealments in the furniture, walls, ceiling, or floors. The only obvious one was covering up a lewd drawing on one of the desks near the back of the room. His gaze flicked to the locked cabinets of taxidermied Dark creature specimens, then the book shelves. Probably nothing so accessible, but he knew there was another locked cabinet in the office containing cursed objects for use in the seventh year N.E.W.T. class. "I don't see anything obvious here, and the office is more likely anyway. Not as much risk of a student stealing it." Albus nodded and led the way up to the locked office door, which opened with only two spells. Alastor glared at the doorknob. "I'm not impressed with your current Professor. Terrible security."

"Frankly, Alastor, I am not impressed with him either," Albus agreed.

Alastor made a beeline for the far wall. He could see the curio cabinets hidden behind the seemingly solid stone. There was no obvious mechanism. "How does this open? Password protected?"

"Usually, yes, but ever since turnover became such a problem, I switched it to House Elf custody. Spock?" A young house elf with unusually erect ears wearing a Hogwarts tea towel appeared next to them. "We need to access the cabinets, please."

"Yes, Headmaster, sir!" the elf snapped his fingers and bowed low as the stone wall shuddered open. "Is Headmaster needing anything else?"

"Do you know of any other hidden compartments in the Defense classroom and office, or in the Defense professor's suite?"

Spock nodded eagerly. "There is secret drawer in the desk where Professor Bender is keeping firewhiskey. And secret shelf in wardrobe where Professor Bender is keeping Essence of Euphoria. And secret bottom in drawer in Professor Bender's bathroom where he is keeping little round, white tablets. And..."

Albus raised a hand, and his eyebrows. "Is Professor Bender keeping various illicit substances in every secret compartment you know of?"

Spock nodded.

Albus sighed. "Well, I suppose it could be worse. He's not sharing his stash with students, is he?"

Spock shook his head. "House elves is not ignoring if that is happening. House elves know little white tablets is not for students. And Professor Bender is hoarding them and muttering about thieves in his sleep anyways."

"I see. Is there anything else hidden in those places?"

Spock shook his head again.

"Very well. Go ask the other house elves if they know of any hiding places you do not. And I will ask you to help me approach Professor Bender in the morning."

"Yes, Headmaster, sir!" The elf vanished again.

Alastor shook his head and strode to the first cabinet. "Glad that's not my department. Now..." He opened the first cabinet, revealing ten shelves utterly stuffed with cursed knickknacks. Rings, inkwells, bracelets, figurines, playing cards, teacups, keys, vases, watches, hatpins, handkerchiefs, buttons, badges, notebooks, pendants, paperweights, animal bones, bottles, knives, marbles, chessmen... Most of the objects he assumed had been confiscated from students over the years, but some of them looked like they came from professional curse-breaking trainer sets. There were no labels. A glance through the door of the next cabinet revealed it to be much the same. "Well. This is going to take forever. I'll take this one, you take the next?"

Albus nodded grimly.

Alastor jabbed his wand at the first ring. "Oὖλε ὁλόψυχος." Nothing. He moved his wand to the next object. "Oὖλε ὁλόψυχος." And the next. And the next. And the next. Only a thousand or so cursed items to go through... The next ring blew up, and he conjured a hasty Impervious shield with a loud swear. A fragment of hot metal bounced off his shield inches from his remaining eye. "That... wasn't supposed to happen."

"No," Albus said with interest. He cast some diagnostic spells over the cloud of smoke. "I don't think it was a horcrux, though. It appears the object was merely cursed to explode upon any attempt to identify the curse."

Alastor sighed and dropped his shield again. "That's bloody inconvenient. They shouldn't keep things like that mixed in with all the other objects to be experimented on by N.E.W.T. students, either, not without a label. Serves me right for assuming even a minimum level of competence on the part of your last few Defense professors, I suppose." He conjured a small, slate-topped table and chalked a ring of protective and containment runes on it, just in case anything else was rigged to explode. He levitated the next item onto the table to test it. "Oὖλε ὁλόψυχος..."

Author's note: Dumbledore incorrectly linking the Hogwarts horcrux to the Defense curse only occurred to me recently, but man, it really did seem like a good fit if one could only come up with a good enough way for the horcrux to successfully hide in plain sight for so long. Would have been a great Chekhov's gun. Sadly, as we all know, they're on the wrong track. Thanks for the reviews, will continue to update Saturdays.