"Never play with my mind again, Sirius Black." were the first words Magdalena used when they entered her house, and he had turned back into his human form. "Hex me, curse me all you want, sure-"

"Don't say I did not warn you, Lena." he grumbled, disinterested in her empty threats and waving his wand as the books that used to belong to Mina Ablai arranged themselves on top of the enormous wooden chest they had brought from her house. "I told you, didn't I, I don't have enough time to do it in other ways. You're my lovely host, yes, but you're also just a means to an end to me."

"Whose end is that, then?"

"Voldemort's."

Magdalena sighed, and wiped her forehead with the hem of her sleeve.

"Let's hope so." she finally said in a defeated tone.

"Although…" He grabbed one of the books at the top, flicking through it before grabbing another one. Of course none of them would be in English, why would they? "Although, if any of his followers also happen to meet their end along the way, any of those filthy Death Eaters who started to play up last night, for example… well, I sure wouldn't complain."

He picked another book, exhaling loudly as he found it to be written in the same indecipherable script. He had never seen anything like it before, and found them all, in the end to bear the same writing, both enormous, handwritten manuscripts, as well as old books with ornate typography, many of them annotated until the edges could have been transcribed into a hundred-page tome in its own right.

"Can you read this?" he asked her, and handed her one of the books. Magdalena flipped through it, and reluctantly nodded.

"I'm a bit rusty, but sure, it's… legible to me. This one seems to be a herbology guide - ah, look. See?." She showed him a page with a root diagram, alongside several notes on what seemed to be moon phases.

"Yeah, I see now. Look, Magdalena, can you… please, can you-" Sirius rectified himself quickly, pushing the books away from the trunk and towards the table. "Look over these books, see if you find anything that could be of interest?" He sighed deeply, before leaning over the ornate wooden trunk. Despite the scratches, etches and burn marks on the surface, it was a gorgeous piece of craftsmanship, with symbols reminiscent of runes still clearly visible all alongside its opening.

As he touched its edges, he remembered being in his fifth year, right behind James, awaiting his turn to talk to McGonagall about his career choices. He remembered how her eyes sparkled with pride as they discussed his options, as he declared an interest in Cursebreaking. Why not an Auror? He remembered her asking, and he laughed heartily as he said he wants to stay away from the Ministry- he'd rather work for the Goblins than be in the same building as some of the other members of his family. Plus, he would have loved to travel the world. Get as far away as possible from his family, just him on a motorcycle he would get and modify, and fly away, whenever and to wherever he wanted to, and to get paid to do so- ah, what a life he imagined for himself, back in those days, before the onset of the war!

And now, here he was, in England, having brought back a seemingly impenetrable trunk from a dead Albanian witch's house. Sometimes, somehow, dreams do come true, even if in the oddest of ways.

"What am I looking for, then?"

"I-"

I don't know.

That was what he wanted to reply with, because he truly, utterly, desperately did not know what he wanted to find. Everything, every single thing. Any answers to any of the thousands of questions floating around in his head.

"How can you find someone who doesn't want to be found?" he finally asked, more desolate than ever, as he pressed his left hand against the symbols on the trunk.

"Pettigrew, or-"

"Both. Either." He took out his wand, and with a steady hand, pressed its tip to the edge of the trunk. Memories of his Ancient Rune NEWT sprung to mind as the tip of his wand emitted a small glow as he did so, as his other hand continued exploring the symbols etched along the edges. "Peter… Peter is the key to my release, isn't he? Until then, I am doomed to go outside as a dog, as another man, hidden in the darkness. Without him… But if he's in Albania, and if Voldemort-..."

He stopped speaking as he put his thoughts in order, focusing on the trunk. He wondered what kind of books old Ablai had his in her trunk, that not even her disciples or relatives could have access to. He wondered if their content had anything to do with the scratches and the rats everyone has been accusing to have swarmed this summer. He wondered, as rats gnaw for food, not for old trunks filled with books.

"I've never heard of rats scratching at trunks in my entire life. Have you?"

"Never."

"Lena…"

"Hm?"

His hand shook, as he realised something. Of course - of course! Why else would Death Eaters feel so comfortable presenting themselves to the world, bringing the Mark back onto the skies after so many years? The snakes were out of their hide-out, of course they were, because they must have finally felt protected to do so, after James and Lily's deaths and Voldemort's disappearance. Even Karkaroff, to have the nerve to return to Britain, knowing he had so many enemies on both sides…

Because they knew, his followers, they knew something everyone else did not - but what they did not know was that Harry's scar hurt twice in his life, at least that he, Sirius, knew of, and most recently a few days before the Cup. And what else they did not know was that Sirius Black also knew Pettigrew had been to Albania, the spot rumoured to be most associated with Voldemort. And if Voldemort had possessed someone in the past, wouldn't he do it once again?

"Voldemort- it's been Voldemort all along, hasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

He ignored her, and got up, pacing around the trunk.

"Everything. What we need to find - what I need to find is what's in this trunk. And you need to find Dumbledore his Ministry person as well, now, don't you? To put them, us, me in the know."

He moved his gaze from the trunk to look for a piece of parchment, and wrote a quick letter to Harry, to let him know he needed to see him, and ask him for his address and a place and date to meet. He ended by saying Ron and Hermione are more than welcome to come, and sent the short letter off with one of her owls.

"Come here. Come." he beckoned to Magdalena, asking her to sit down on the couch. "I'm not mad. My head is clear, it's as clear as ever, I promise you. Come, sit." He sat next to her, and took her hands into his, holding them tightly. "Do you think I'm mad?"

"I wonder..."

"If I go mad but take Voldemort down with me, I consider it a job done. As long as Harry is safe, I consider it a worthy sacrifice. Without Pettigrew to confess, what can I offer him anyway, hm? Not a home, I'm just someone who he needs to hide to exchange a word with.

And you won't let me go mad, will you? You won't let me die before my time comes, I know you won't." He laughed as he noticed the incredulous look on her face. "I won't be another Fabian Bones."

"You never could be." It was her turn to laugh this time, and she had finally grasped Sirius's hands back, tightly. "He was too young, too passionate, too much of a dreamer. That brought his demise whereas you… your flesh, tired and aching and your soul, scarred, holding such disdain, for having seen the horrors of this world and others beyond us-"

"That's rich coming from you, Leni." he interrupted. "Considering your flesh trembles right now, look. You ache in flesh and soul, don't deny it, you do." he grasped at her wrist, goosebumps rising on each bit of skin he had touched. The more he grasped at her hands, the more Magdalena pulled her hands away, yet he could feel the tremor in her voice as she spoke.

"Perhaps I mourn you already."

"Do us both a favour, and mourn me properly, after I die. Because Merlin, I won't have many mourners, will I? They'll probably publish my death in the Prophet with the same font for Ireland winning the Cup."

"Rainy day you picked, mate."

"No one in their right mind will come out in this weather. Makes it safer. " Sirius responded, grinning at Ron's comment as Hermione closed the door of the barn, before he cast a spell on it for good measure. He thanked Hermione as she commented on him looking better than a few weeks ago, and finally turned to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me then, what happened at the Quidditch Cup?"

He listened to the three of them go through the events, and reconciled it with the version he knew from listening to the Bulgarian and French Minister after the meeting. Whilst Magdalena had been chatting with the old wizard next to her, in his Animagus form, he snuck off to their end of the table, listening in as they went over the events that happened after the Dark Mark had been cast, and Fudge's reassurances that this most likely had been a bunch of drunkards looking to start trouble, nothing more.

Now, he was able to piece the ministers' version together with Harry's and his friends' recollection of events. He never thought he'd hear the name Crouch spoken so many times this past week - he would have been happy never to hear that damned name again in his presence, and no sooner had Ron and Hermione finished arguing about his house-elf that he told them what the name Crouch meant to him.

The name that threw him in Azkaban without a trial, whose own son was a Death Eater and follower. He told them everything, about him, his dead son, his fanaticism and obsession, on par with Voldemort's own, some would argue.

He almost told them about Karkaroff as well, yet stopped at the last moment - he'd promised Dumbledore he'd keep the tournament a secret, and did so indeed.

"With all of this, good on Dumbledore for dragging Mad-Eye out of retirement." he decided to say instead, crossing his arms. "Keep your eyes peeled then, with all of this I expect this year won't be the smoothest. Write to me, alright? Whatever happens, especially something like your scar hurting again." he asked of Harry, sighing profusely.

"What about you, Sirius? What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"I'll see how much help I can be, from wherever I am." he winked. "Maybe I'll find a way to be in Hogsmeade, who knows?"

"Are you safe, where you are?" Hermione asked with concern. "Harry told us you're hiding with a witch, are you sure you can trust her not to turn you in?"

"Dumbledore's own recommendation."

"Dumbledore also trusts Snape -Merlin's bollocks, can you imagine if you'd have to hide with him?"

Sirius laughed heartily at Ron's comment, loud enough that it covered Hermione's indignation, and let the two argue until Harry stopped them.

"What do you think, Sirius?"

He looked at all three of them, scratching at his beard as he collected his thoughts. They both had a point, however, more than anything, he was quite proud of Harry for being level-headed to ask all parties present in order to form his own opinion. He explained what happened to some of the Death Eaters whose names sprung to his mind, before letting the trio know that Snape himself, in spite of his proclivity for the dark arts, had never been accused of being a Death Eater.

"He was certainly clever enough to keep himself out of trouble with the Ministry - I haven't heard as much as a whisper of him being anything close to Azkaban, whereas Avery, Malfoy, Karkaroff and others were put on trial back then, and risked life imprisonment with their other friends until they wormed their way out."

"Karkaroff?" asked Harry, and Sirius was glad he caught onto that.

"Oh, yeah." he replied nonchalantly. "He's not in Britain now - left the country after he got out of Azkaban. He actually was imprisoned for a while, unlike Malfoy,, until he made a deal with the Ministry - with Crouch, funnily enough - and named as many Death Eaters as he could, until Crouch let him off. Climbed his way to the top of Durmstrang and became a Headmaster a while back."

"Durmstrang, that's-" Ron furrowed his brows.

"Durmstrang Institute - isn't that a school renowned for its Dark Magic?" Hermione asked, and Sirius nodded.

"Where else? Look, it's getting dark, Ron, your parents may worry where you three are. Why don't you and Hermione go first, and I'll just catch a last word with Harry."

Sirius waited for the two to leave, before putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I need to tell you something, Sirius, before I go back."

"Oh?"

"Do you think over the winter holidays, I could come visit you? I don't know if you know, but after you left back then, I sent a letter, but not to you, to uh- Magdalena, and I asked her if I could visit you. She said not this summer, not with the Ministry and the Cup, but maybe at another time I could come by, spend the weekend, or more."

"Harry… Last year I could have only dreamt to talk to you man to man, and in the many years before that I didn't even dare to think about you, so the Dementors couldn't take those happy memories away from me. I'd be a fool to miss any chance to talk to you when I can. Promise me though, that you'll talk to me from now on, not to Magdalena."

Harry furrowed his brows, and Sirius figured he should clarify what he meant by that, so as not to worry him.

"She's only there to help me not get caught by the Ministry, Harry." he lied.

"Read the Daily Prophet, read between the lines. Write to me, alright? And if your scar hurts again, let Dumbledore know as soon as possible, and let me know too."

"Don't worry, Sirius, I'm going to be alright."

"I'm here now, to make sure you're more than alright." he said, squeezing his shoulder. "More than just surviving at your uncle and aunt's, more than visiting your friend Ron's place for respite. Somehow, we'll build something out of all of this. It's what I promised to James and Lily." he put on a grin to accompany his words, which only grew in sincerity as he noticed Harry smiling back at him. "I swear, the more you grow, the more you look like him."

"Will you take me one day again to that wizarding pub Magdalena took us to? With the old woman with-"

"Ah, grew a taste for alcohol as well… just like James, I see." he laughed, before seeing Harry off. It would be the last time he'd get to see him in a while, as he was unsure about going to Hogsmeade so close to the beginning of the Tournament.

Not to mention, he had that pesky trunk to figure out how to open…