"I've told you a hundred times already, you have the wrong man," Eira insisted tearfully, "Wizard or Muggle, my husband wouldn't harm a soul. He didn't do it."

The men in the room looked at one another, bored and yet patient with her. The fattest of them, who was sitting opposite Eira, creaked forward in his seat and patted her small hand gently. "My dear, I do sympathise. But you are new to our world. You may not have understood—"

"Do not patronise me. I understand perfectly!" she snapped back, "He didn't kill that man and he didn't kill all those people."

"How do you know he didn't?"

"How do you know that he did?" she challenged glaringly, wiping at her eyes quickly, "For a start, the incident in question happened twelve years ago. How and why are you now placing him at the scene of the crime?"

"As I said, you wouldn't understand the details of the matter," the man again tried to deflect but was abruptly interrupted by Eira, having lost all patience, screaming at him with tears now running freely down her face.

"Don't tell me what I do and don't understand!" she choked on a sob in her throat, her voice wavering in the air, "I understand, and I know you've imprisoned the wrong man."

"Miss—"

"Mrs," Eira corrected before she continued in a tirade, "I also know that my husband had enemies. The same enemies you all have, the ones serving You-Know-Who. You said a witness came forward, and while you won't tell me who, I can wager a guess it is someone who did not like Sirius."

The large man scoffed, blowing his sour breath across the table at Eira. He looked across at the others before turning his eyes back to the girl. "My dear, accusing someone of mass murder just because they didn't like them very much is quite a reach."

"Not when that someone supports evil men and is determined to see them succeed," she replied.

"I can see," the fat man sighed, finally exhausted with her, "that this interview is going nowhere. We will continue tomorrow."

"Let me see my husband," Eira stood up. She was still wearing her wedding dress, as today was her wedding day. It was a simple white gown made of lace, with long flowing sleeves that flared at the wrists. Eira had made it herself, slowly and tediously, without the assistance of magic, for Eira was a Muggle.

The man looked at her for a moment, sighed again in pity for the girl and finally motioned for her to follow him. Sirius had not yet been taken to Azkaban and was being held in a room upstairs in the Ministry, guarded by several men accompanied by Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy, being related to the Blacks through his wife, felt his presence was required – and nobody dared object. Eira followed quickly, holding her dress up to her knees to walk faster, especially as they rounded the stairs. She did not have to walk particularly fast because the man was rather slow, which was yet another source of annoyance to her.

They eventually reached the correct floor and Eira was led to the room they were holding her husband in. As soon as she walked in, Sirius, who had been sitting by the window, was up in seconds and embracing his bride tightly in his arms. He was trembling but tried not to show it as he drew back and looked at her face, still holding her close.

"Eira," his eyes were glassy and wide, "Are you okay?"

Eira began to cry, gripping his arms, "Why won't they let you go? You didn't do anything."

Sirius held and rocked her gently, resting his chin on top of her head, "Darling, I know. But everything will be alright… it's okay… darling, you still look so beautiful even crying," he tried to smile even though he felt like his entire world was crumbling to dust under his feet.

"They won't listen to me," Eira wept, "Nothing I say… they won't listen…"

"Don't blame yourself, whatever happens," he murmured softly. He cupped her face in his hands, staring at her, fearful he may never see his young wife's beautiful face again, and utterly terrified they should be separated.

He had been afraid something like this would happen. His family, or at least what was left of it, despised Eira simply because she was non-magic. Marrying her had caused a scandal. Sirius's mother, who had not spoken to her son in nearly twenty years, was possessed with seething rage when she learned her only living son was engaged to a Muggle. Had Eira at least been a half-blood, his mother might have borne and ignored it, as she had ignored everything Sirius did, but a Muggle was far beyond her tolerance. This was pure dishonour in her eyes, an insult to her very flesh. Though Sirius had been disowned by his mother for his differing views long ago, great measures were taken to intervene and separate the pair before any half-blooded children could be made. On both points, all efforts failed. Eira and Sirius married quickly, primarily to dodge his family's attempts at sabotage, but also because Eira was already carrying their first child.

Sirius moved his hand to Eira's small, waspish waist as she cried against his chest quietly. He then gently, discreetly placed the palm of his hand on her belly, which at this moment gave nothing away as to her condition, and kissed her forehead.

"I love you," he whispered.

Eira lifted her eyes to look up at him. His short beard tickled her skin, and the curls of his thick, unkempt hair brushed her cheek softly. Eira could acutely smell his warm skin – a rich, warm scent of amber and musk – and she breathed him in deeply as she replied that she loved him too. She loved him in a way she felt she could dissolve into him, and at this very moment she wished more than anything that she could so that he would not have to suffer alone. She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles and fingertips, memorising every line and crease, every tattoo, and the roughness of his palm. Had Eira looked up, she would have seen the raw pain in his eyes at the sensation of her soft lips kissing his calloused skin, pained with the agony of knowing he may never feel her soft kisses and breath again.

They held one another for a long time in silence, ignoring the fact they were being closely observed. They did not draw away even when the man, who had brought Eira to the room, cleared his throat loudly.

"Time to go now, dear," he said with some hesitation.

Eira kept hold of her husband firmly, hiding her face in the lapels of his jacket. Neither of them responded or acknowledged him.

"I said—"

"She heard you," Lucius Malfoy's cool voice cut in. He walked forward to Eira and placed his hand on her shoulder gently. Sirius raised his eyes to meet those of Lucius, who was sneering down at Eira. Lucius moved Eira's long dark hair aside with the snake-end of his cane, exposing her slender neck and side profile, an action which caused Eira to flinch and draw closer to her husband.

"She is very pretty, Sirius," Lucius remarked with a small smirk on his lips.

"Yes."

"You know, my wife is here with your mother," he then said, looking at Sirius again.

Sirius stared at him, surprised and annoyed. "What is my mother doing here?"

"Why should she not be?"

"Lucius," he said more sternly, with a hint of venom in his voice, "Why is she here?"

"Well, this young lady is part of the family now, is she not?" he tapped Eira's shoulder with the end of his cane.

Sirius blanched with sudden rage and grasped Eira tightly, stepping in front of her protectively as he squared up to Lucius. Lucius was taller and slightly broader than him by a couple of inches, which seemed to amuse Lucius as he came face-to-face with Sirius. An arrogant glint of amusement flashed in his sharp grey eyes.

"Whatever you and my family are planning, I will not let it happen," Sirius said heatedly.

"Gentlemen, please…" the man again attempted to intervene, but was flatly ignored.

"And just how exactly do you plan to protect your little wife while you're rotting in Azkaban?" Lucius enquired mockingly.

Sirius made a lunge for Lucius at this, only to be pulled back roughly by two men standing on either side of him. Eira gasped out in fright, stumbling as Sirius was knocked into her. He tried to turn and face her, fearful he had caused her an injury, but was swiftly restrained by the two men and hauled aside. Furious and panicked now, Sirius began to shout a number of unintelligible things as he was forced to his knees; a struggle ensued, and several other official men rushed into the room to help restrain him.

Eira stood back, pale, helpless and stricken with tears, too scared to move. She watched them beat her husband down to the ground and arrest his movements with the simple swish of a wand; his hands were forced behind his back and he suddenly grew very still, head hung low, and was presently subdued. As they pulled him back to his feet, Eira ran forward, reaching for him and crying out, "No!"

"Stay back, girl," one of the men shoved her aside carelessly as they proceeded to haul Sirius out of the room. She would have made a second attempt, had Lucius not grabbed her arm. His fingers were like iron, holding her firmly, and Eira was unable to do anything but watch them take her husband away.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Eira strained and sobbed, "Let me go! Where are they taking him? Let me go!"

Lucius looked at Eira with feigned pity and turned her around to face him, covering her ears like she was a young child. This partially blocked out the screaming that had commenced as Sirius returned to his senses. He was being dragged down the hall to another, more secure room, shouting madly for Eira, pleading and begging only for her sake. Eira tried to pull away from Lucius, shaking her head aside, only to be then caught tightly by both wrists. He yanked her towards him, his expression now dangerous and dark.

"Enough of this," he snapped. "Walk."

He pulled her out of the room and into the corridor Sirius had just been dragged down, his screams now growing more and more distant. There was soon not a sound except for the sounds of quills scratching paper, bells, and the rustle of suits and robes as those working carried on with their business like nothing was amiss. Eira sobbed softly as Lucius determinedly hauled her away. He took her into the dizzying Ministry lift, which went in every direction, and without a word led her all the way back down to the ground floor to meet with his wife, Narcissa, and Sirius's elderly, stern-looking mother, Walburga.

Sirius had rarely spoken about his mother to Eira, and Eira had never minded. Apart from the fact his mother had extreme beliefs regarding blood-purity, and the fact she had heard many unpleasant and shocking stories about his childhood, one picture had been enough for Eira to decide she never wanted to encounter this severe woman. And now she was coming face-to-face with her.

Walburga eyed Eira like she was a disgusting, misshapen creature; she took an obvious step back as Lucius arrived with her, her expression glaring and haughty.

"Is this her?" Sirius's mother asked disdainfully, looking Eira up and down.

"This is your son's wife," Lucius said with some pleasure, still gripping Eira's arm tightly.

Walburga moved forward to stand face-to-face with her daughter-in-law. She stood so close Eira tried to take a step back, a feeling of revulsion overcoming her as she felt and smelled Walburga's sour breath on her face. She turned her head aside, only to feel her chin suddenly grabbed by the woman's icy skeletal fingers, forcing her to look her in the eye.

"My son always was distracted by pretty faces," Walburga said bitterly. "He did nothing but chase skirts during his schooling years. What's so special about you though?"

Eira said nothing, staring at her fixedly, trying not to breathe too deeply so she didn't have to smell the woman's awful breath and perfume.

"Vileness…" the old woman muttered, finally releasing Eira. "Jezebel… filthy blood traitor…"

Eira took a further step back, stumbling into Lucius behind her. He grasped her arm again and proceeded to lead her to the main doors at the other end of the huge room, flanked by his wife and Walburga.

"Where are we going?" Eira now asked in a panic. "I want to stay here."

"Whatever for?" Lucius asked incredulously without looking at her.

Eira tried to dig her heels into the floor, stubbornly holding him back. Narcissa bumped straight into her and prodded her sharply in irritation. Her impression of the girl was little more than indifference, though she scarcely looked at her.

"You can't make me leave with you!" Eira exclaimed as Lucius regained control and led her along impatiently. Eira scratched at Lucius's hand, trying to pry his fingers from her arm.

"On the contrary, we can," Lucius replied calmly, not seeming to notice Eira's efforts of attack. Nobody even looked in their direction. "I have promised to care for you while your husband awaits trial."

"I'm not a child! Let me go!"

As soon as they were outside of the Ministry, Lucius turned and looked at Eira, very clearly irked with her. It was raining hard outside. He put up his large black umbrella and pulled her beneath it, speaking in a low whisper, "And just where will you go? From what I understand, you left everything to run off and marry that man. You have no home—"

"Sirius and I have a home!" she interrupted at once.

Lucius laughed and shook his head, "My poor dear girl, if you mean that quaint little cottage you had, the Ministry have seized it. You cannot go back there."

"Why can't—"

"I am doing you the only favour I can bestow," Lucius again interrupted, "Narcissa is your husband's cousin. The Ministry is concerned as to where you will go while your husband is incarcerated, seeing as he was your sole provider and only connection to our world. You are vulnerable, don't you understand? You have nothing and should be grateful."

"Grateful for what?" Eira demanded.

"That we are taking you in, of course," Lucius said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Walburga made a disgusted noise of disdain, muttering again under her foul breath. Narcissa watched silently, studying Eira's profile.

Eira narrowed her gaze on Lucius, staring back boldly into his cold grey eyes, "I do not need nor want your assistance. I know how your family feels about me."

"Let me be plain with you, girl," Lucius said more seriously now, backing her up against the wall. "Your husband, trial or not, is going to be sent to Azkaban. That much has already been decided. Should you decide to return to your pathetic Muggle life, you will have no memory of the wizarding world nor any memory of your husband. The Ministry will make sure of that. You are an annoyance, nothing more than a flea or a rat, and the Ministry wants you dealt with carefully. Now you have two choices. The first, as I just informed you, means returning to your normal life with no knowledge of any of this. The second is to stay with my family, where I may be able to make use of you, and you will remain aware of this world and your idiotic husband."

Eira felt more confused as she listened to his words, wary that kindness was surely not the reason the Malfoys were taking her in.

"What do you mean… make use of me?" she asked nervously.

"Put you in your place," Walburga interjected at once, "In servitude, where a dirty Muggle ought to be."

Tears pricked at Eira's eyes. "I will not be a slave…"

"Oh no, no," Lucius said, quickly changing his tone and glancing around a little nervously. He placed his hands gently on Eira's shoulders, "Not a slave, of course not. We have a devoted house elf for that. But you must earn your keep if you are to stay with us. It is a fair bargain; do you not agree? Would you rather have your memory altered?"

Eira shook her head, suddenly feeling very much like a helpless child backed into a corner. She thought of her unborn baby and however little a hope it was, she thought of being reunited with her husband. He was innocent, after all. Surely, she considered, they will let him go in a few days and things would resume as normal. Lucius's proposition wasn't an unreasonable bargain at all, but this only made her more wary. She recalled the anxiety in Sirius's voice when he realised the Malfoys were up to something, planning something, and she knew in her heart that Lucius was being untruthful with her.

"Come along then," Lucius looked relieved. He only then seemed to notice she was still in her wedding clothes. The hem of her beautiful dress was soddened with dirt and was now slowly dampening in the rain.

"We will need to get you some new clothes at once… Narcissa," he looked at his wife, "May I leave the young lady in your hands to gather everything she needs? I will take Mrs Black home before she gets drenched in this rain," he motioned to the senior woman, who didn't look the least bit bothered by the rain, as she was too distracted with staring hatefully at Eira, "And I will re-join you shortly."

Narcissa didn't look all too pleased but she nodded. She kissed her husband briefly on the side of the lips and watched him walk away with the elder Mrs Black hooked to his arm. She then looked at Eira, who without the shelter of Mr Malfoy's umbrella, was stood shivering in the rain.