Divide and Multiply

Author's Note- Some foul language. Descriptions of violence, so recommended for late teens. Please leave a review.

Sirius Black dropped to his knees and was trying not to be sick on the floor. The view was unfamiliar even though he must have been at the Bones House before. He had used the floo system since he was a child. He and his brother, Regulus, used to walk to their neighbor's house and take the floo back home to enjoy the exciting ride. He had been apparating by himself since he was 16 years old. Only a few weeks ago, he'd flown a Hippogriff a couple hundred kilometers during the middle of a storm. That counted for nothing today. He was learning to land all over again.

Ted and Andromeda trusted him. So did Amelia. Sirius could have announced any location as he threw the floo powder onto the grate at the Tonks' house. He could have run to freedom. Instead, he stayed to clear his name. There was no escaping the trust that his friends had given him.

There was also no escape from the nausea he felt, at least for now. He was on his knees and trying to renegotiate his relationship with his stomach and his inner ear. His stomach was in charge. He didn't have a wand to clean off the soot so the Bones' house elf was dusting him. He heard the floo flare to life as Amelia arrived. He sat up to say hello, but that was premature. He lay on his side until the world stopped spinning. He blamed his nausea on all the potions he was taking.

"Give yourself a minute," she said.

Amelia Bones looked at Sirius lying across on the floor. She saw the contrast between his dark robes and the gray slate stones. Tonks said he had gained weight, but Sirius was at least 15 kilos lighter than the man she knew a decade ago. Fortunately for Sirius, Amelia was carrying his sports bag as they went through the floo. She reached down and patted him on the shoulder as she passed. She hung up her traveling cloak and put a kettle on the stove.

"It is a short walk down to the guest house. I assume you'd rather walk than apparate right now," she said. Maybe she was enjoying his suffering slightly more than she should.

She set out cups and biscuits. He was sitting up the next time she looked his way.

"I went from living in my lawyer's guest room to staying in the guest house of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement. I'd call that an upgrade," he said. He forced a smile as he slowly climbed back to his feet and looked around.

"You're only here for a few hours. I have to bring you to the ministry tomorrow morning," she said.

He was quiet as he slowly sipped and nibbled to settle his stomach. This wasn't the rough-and-tumble Sirius Black that Amelia had worked with before. Then again, he had been living wild for the last two years. Amelia doubted she could survive that let alone look as good. She let Sirius recover before they headed across the yard.

He was carrying his own small sports bag. A change of clothes and his medical potions were all he had in the world right now. It had been a damp and mild afternoon, but the sun was still shining and it wasn't raining. They flushed a rabbit as they walked down the path.

Sirius couldn't help the stark contrasts as he looked at the grass and trees. "The Dementors are a bad idea. They made Bellatrix psychotic if she wasn't already. You can't let them out," he said.

Amelia studied what Sirius had said. 'Them' could imply either the Death Eaters or the Dementors. She agreed with him that neither belonged in public. That left the obvious question why Bellatrix Lestrange went crazy but Sirius hadn't. There wasn't a good answer so she didn't ask the question. His statement did bring up the point that crazy people said crazy things when they were in prison. Sirius would have heard some of it. That might be extremely useful.

Sirius spoke. "Ted could have brought me to the ministry. That means you have something in mind." He'd been an Auror so he knew how to consider motives and means.

They talked as they walked. "Ted submitted documents to the court. He is on record as your lawyer, or he will be soon. That makes you easy to find. Umbridge might send her Dementors after you. Ted and Andy would just be collateral damage for the Pink Bitch." She couldn't shock Sirius with foul language. He'd heard her say far worse. Amelia didn't mention threats from the Death Eaters.

"You worried about us. Thank you," he said.

"Yes, and I want some answers I couldn't ask in front of Tonks," she said.

That sounded credible but wasn't entirely true. She trusted Ted with anything that Sirius might say. The problem was getting Sirius to talk in front of strangers. Sirius Black had learned to hold secrets close to his chest when he was in The Order and again when he was an Auror. Leaked information would get your friends killed when Black worked for Dumbledore and when they both had worked for Moody in the Auror's den.

She said, "Did you know that Tonks made me swear an oath to help you? He swore it too."

"On his magic? On yours?" Sirius corrected himself.

"On our magic," she answered.

He walked a little slower as if his brain was overloaded with thoughts. She slowed down so he could catch up. He was moving normally again by the time he asked what she wanted.

"I need to know what you know. How do I get Pettigrew?" she asked.

"Well shit," he said. He looked up at the sky but didn't look at her. He spoke when he came back to earth.

"You learned that Remus is a werewolf," he said.

That seemed a strange place for him to begin his story. "We all learned that about Remus when you were captured and then escaped from Hogwarts."

"Well, Peter is an unregistered Animagus. So am I. Pettigrew hides in the Gryffindor tower as a rat. You can get a living map from Professor Lupin or Lord Potter. It shows where everyone is in Hogwarts. I'd set a trap and bait it with Pixie Puffs cereal. That's Peter's favorite food."

They were at the guest house. Amelia stopped on the porch before they went inside.

"You're the dog like your Patronis." she said.

Sirius felt let down that she'd figured out his Animagus form so quickly and so easily. It was hard to keep secrets from people you'd worked with for years. He was tempted to show her his Irish Wolfhound.

Amelia spoke again. "We set a trap and bait it with the cereal. We charm the bait so he grows as he eats it. Then he's too big to escape out of the trap. We Stupefy him. Incarcerous him. Reducio both him and the trap. Cast the lightweight charm so they are easy to carry. Put them into a cloak pocket and walk to the hospital wing at Hogwarts. From there we use Pomfrey's floo to the Auror's den. We'd apparate to the holding cells and unwind all the spells."

"Hmm," he said. He wasn't convinced by her plan.

"Hmm, yourself. How would you do it?" she asked.

She cast the spell to open the guest house. She walked him through the wards and wrote him into the guest book.

She had second thoughts about grabbing Pettigrew. "Wait a minute. We'll have to get Pettigrew out of his cage before we bring him in. You know better than to use your Animagus form in the ministry, don't you?"

He hadn't known, but he did now. "Can I ask my house elf to capture Peter?" he asked.

Amelia was surprised. "Is the elf a close friend of yours or of Pettigrew?" she asked.

Black snorted. "Not in the least."

"Well, I guess so. What's the elf's name?" she asked.

"His name is Kreacher, with a K," he said.

"Smidgen, can you help us for a moment?" Amelia called out.

A youthful elf popped into the room. She was tall for an elf, yet her features left the impression that she wasn't fully grown. Her ears were shorter than usual, but clearly pointed like elf ears. Her ears stood up when she was paying attention and barely drooped as the young elf thought of something.

"How may Smidgen be helping the Mistress?" she asked.

"Lord Black would like to talk to his house elf. Would you allow Kreacher to join us."

Smidgen made a sour face before she could answer with words.

Sirius could sympathize. He said, "I see you know Kreacher. I understand your reaction. If it helps, this shouldn't take long."

The elf sighed. "Smidgen will brings Kreacher to the guest house. Please don't bring the Kreacher elf to house Bones."

The two elves returned at the same time, but there was no confusing the two of them. Ignoring the centuries that separated the two elves, Smidgen was dressed in bright prints and Kreacher looked like an undertaker in his long coat and pants.

"How may Kreacher help the disgraced heir of the once powerful House Black?"

Sirius spoke to the elf. "Kreacher, I don't want you to do anything right now. A man has dishonored House Black. He has stolen from us and hurt the allies of house Black. His name is Peter Pettigrew. He lives at Hogwarts in the form of a rat. He stays in the Gryffindor tower. I want to know if you could put him in his rat cage and bring him here?"

"I know of this rat man. The Dark Lord and your dear brother spoke of him. Let me ask the elves at Hogwarts if I can rid them of their rat problem."

Kreacher was gone for a few minutes. They had time enough to drop Sirius's bag in his room. Kreacher popped back with Smidgen right beside him. Smidgen stayed close to the strange elf as if he didn't trust Kreacher.

'I'll find out later,' Bones mouthed the words to Sirius.

Kreacher bowed. "Your fat rat smells. When and where would you like him?" Kreacher asked.

"Please leave him where he is for now," Sirius answered.

"May I cook him?" Kreacher asked.

Sirius coughed. "Hmm. I hadn't thought of that. No, not until we're done with him. Why do you want to cook him?"

"Kreacher was reading while the disgraced Master Sirius was in Azkaban. The honorable goblins have hundreds of recipes for rat."

"Hmm. I'll see what I can do. Would you rather cook magic rats or muggle rats?" Sirius asked.

"The recipes call for ordinary rats, either brown or white. Fresh, not frozen." Kreacher said.

"Given that you're cooking from Goblin recipes, would you consider inviting some goblins over to test them? I suppose I should know good rat from bad since I've been in Azkaban, but I never developed the taste."

The look of glee on Kreacher's face was frightening. "Kreacher will practice his recipes until he can retrieve the delicious rat from Gryffindor tower."

"If that is settled, then please pay your respects to Madame Bones," he said.

The elf turned to Amelia. "Kreacher is sorry that you stained your honorable house with the likes of my disappointing Master. Thank you for pulling him out of the ditches where he belongs."

"Any time.. I think," Amelia said.

Kreacher bowed and then disappeared.

Some elves left with a puff. Some moved with a pop. Kreacher left with a Crack that was as sharp as a gunshot. Both Amelia and her elf looked shocked.

Amelia said, "I wish I'd met Kreacher years ago. He explains so much.

"Thank you, Smidgen. Do you have some concerns about Kreacher being here?" she asked.

Smidgen bowed and then scratched her head as she thought. "The Kreacher elf smells of dark magic."

Sirius apologized for his elf. "He was alone in my parents' house for too long. I don't like him, but I can't understand him either."

Smidgen tipped her head to them both before she left with hardly a sound.

"What will you do with Pettigrew?" Sirius asked.

"Between Pettigrew and your Godfather Oath, even a Lord Malfoy would have trouble finding you guilty. Do you want a bench trial or to go before the Wizengamot?"

"I'd say a bench trial, but I'll ask Ted and do what he suggests," Sirius answered.

"It may take a few days until I can turn Pettigrew over to you. I'll have a list of questions for him," she said.

Sirius stopped and stared out the windows for a moment. He was getting better so the windows didn't bother him as much as they had.

Sirius noticed the setting sun. "I might come visit you if I get depressed. Hearing the list of questions that you'll ask the rat would brighten my day. Maybe my whole week," he said.

She smiled at him, and he smiled briefly in return.

"At least we know how to get Pettigrew," she said.

"Fried, roasted or stewed," he answered.

"Oh, stop!" she moaned. "Does Kreacher get his ideas from you?" she demanded.

"It's from a song the muggles sang in Azkaban. We were fed once a day. He pointed to the sun slipping behind the trees. It's getting dark and I'm getting hungry," he explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me fix a meal for us. Well, Smidgen and me."

"You don't have to do that," Sirius said.

"I'd like to. Tell me what happened as I cook."

Meal preparation took much longer than they expected even with the use of magic. Glasses of wine played some part in the delay. Sirius would stop talking so the elf and the witch would stop cooking until he started again. Sometimes Amy and Smidgen paused in their work because Sirius had said too much to bear.

Amy and Sirius took turns trying to explain their past. What slowed things down were the repeated words "I'm sorry that happened" and "Say that again?" It was an amazing experience.

Sirius rediscovered the music hidden in the sound of pans on stoves, the sound of warming spells, and the percussion of knives against cutting boards. He was reminded that food could have an inviting smell. Food could be presented with a smile rather than a bowl being slid through a slot in a door and washed down with a curse. It still felt funny to look Amelia in the eyes as she set the plates in front of them. Things as simple as accepting a glass of water left him with a twinge. It reminded him how much he was learning. No rats were harmed as they prepared the evening meal.

Voldemort's war had cost them. The war robbed them of their families and crippled them both. Harry had grown up without his parents and without Sirius. Amelia had seen what losing her parents had done to Susan, her brother's daughter.

Amelia told him about of the friends and family that Voldemort and the Death Eaters had killed. She talked about the others who fled Great Britain after being injured or threatened. Some were friends. Some were Aurors and colleagues in the ministry. Others were simply in the way and had been swept into the grave. He heard her outrage and frustration as the Death Eaters killed with near impunity.

Sirius told her about being locked up with insane criminals only a wall away. He described the loss of Lilly and James that he relived over and over. He told her how Harry was a beacon, a glimmer of light on the horizon of his dreams. A 13-year-old boy was a lighthouse that kept him sane as he floated on a flood of despair fueled by the Dementors. He told her how he felt the Black family magics shift as first his father died, and then again when his mother died while he was locked in prison.

Amelia read a few letters from Susan and told him stories about Harry. She spiced her stories with tales of a strange bushy-haired first-generation witch who went to school with Harry and Susan. She recounted how this young witch sounded so much like Lilly that it was sometimes hard to separate reality from memory.

Sirius remembered meeting her when he'd escaped from Hogwarts on Buckbeak. That was a dark night of the soul. Fear and frustration had nearly driven him insane.

Their stories were interrupted by tears on both sides. The frequent detours dragged the telling and the listening into extra innings. The pain they shared was pain divided. The small joys they shared were joys multiplied. Dinner was delayed by at least two hours, but they kept talking. Sometimes they argued about what had really happened since grief distorted their view of the past.

Smidgen built a fire in the guest house and prepared a bed for Sirius.

They talked about more than the past. Sirius still needed time and space to heal. More than anything he wanted to feel hope for the future. He needed to have dreams and plans that were larger than revenge. Amelia proposed a part time job at the ministry. He talked about getting a wand and spending a few months helping Hagrid take care of magical creatures. Then again, he was eager to clear his name and take up all the Black family magics. Amelia wanted Sirius to assume his family seat in the Wizengamot and help her fight the dark families.

Watching the fire with a friend smoothed the rough edges of his soul. It was one of the best meals he could barely remember. She asked if Smidgen could look in on him during the night. They parted as friends.

That night, Sirius closed his eyes without being afraid of what he'd find in his dreams.

HPHPHP

Author's Notes- Feedback is appreciated. Feedback is essential if you want more stories like this. What did you think of the two war-veterans sharing a meal? What will happen now that Pettigrew is exposed?

"Fried, roasted or stewed" is a lyric from the song "Food, Glorious Food" from the musical Oliver!

I try and use existing elf names when I come across them in fanon. Smidgen it is. I hope you enjoyed meeting her.

Sirius felt irritated after a pair of new shoes gave him blisters. He asked me what Amy was going to ask Peter Pettigrew after she captured him. This is what I found from the notes in Amy's bottomless pouch. This seemed to make Sirius happy.

Shacklebolt asked, "Who funds the Death Eaters?"

How do the Death Eaters communicate with each other?

Where are they storing their funds, their wands, and their potions?

Who is giving them inside information about the Wizengamot and the ministry?

What are their current plans and who are their current targets?

Who is a Death Eater and where do they recruit new members?

Who are their supporters who haven't taken the dark mark?

Where do they meet and where do they hide?

Now, let's ask those questions again, this time with Veritaserum.

Slow