Disclaimer: I think the title rather gives the whole game away.

Warden Black

The Minister looked up from her desk in annoyance when one of her unnamed lackeys burst into her office.

"It's bad, Minister, really really bad!"

"What happened?" Bagnold asked in resignation.

"Peter Pettigrew is alive!"

"Meaning Black's innocent," Bagnold sighed. "Any way we can burry this?"

"Not a chance," the lackey said. "He was hiding as an illegal rat animagus in the Ministry and he transformed back to human in front of several people when one of the Aurors hit him with a curse."

"Were they the right sort of people?" she asked hopefully.

"One of them was Moody, a dozen others were reporters covering our first annual take your child to work day."

"Don't tell me it's already hit the papers?" Bagnold begged.

"Sorry, Minister."

The Minister's office, two hours later:

"So that's the situation," the Minister said with a fake smile. "Just one big misunderstanding. All we need from you is for you to say the right things and this whole thing will blow over in no time."

"All you want me to do is to agree that I'm an under cover ministry operative that allowed himself to go to Azkaban so that Peter would be easier to catch," Black said with a nod. "Sounds like a good plan but you forgot to tell me the one thing I'll need to know in order to make it successful."

"What's that?" the minister asked.

"What's in it for me?"

"I suppose a small honorarium could be arranged," Bagnold said with a grin. "Nothing too ostentatious you understand."

"What was the penalty for false imprisonment again?" Sirius asked with a frown. "And of a pureblood heir no less. Can't see the Wizengomot being too happy with you when the find out that it wasn't a Ministry operation after all, why, I bet they'll be willing to send you to my old cell if I ask nicely enough. Put that way, do you really think a small honorarium will be enough?"

"What do you want?"

"The bribes you were given to keep all those Death Eaters out of Azkaban would be a nice start," Sirius replied. "I understand that's quite a big chunk out of your retirement fund so just so you won't say that I'm unreasonable, I'll let you keep half if you send them all to Azkaban where they belong."

"But that'll ruin any chance of ever getting any consideration from anyone ever again," Bagnold protested. No one had use for a politician who didn't stay bought.

"Would you rather be ruined on a tropical beach somewhere or be ruined in my old cell?" Sirius retorted. When there was no response, he continued. "That's what I thought. Demand two, the reason I was sent to Azkaban rather than be kept incommunicado in the Ministry Holding cells was that I'd been hand picked to be the next warden of Azkaban and I chose to go as a prisoner so that I could get a bottom up look at the way things were handled."

"You'd willingly go back there."

"Of course," Sirius agreed. "After all, I've been given carte blanche to make any changes I want and a large budget for improvement which I'm willing to overlook you skimming up to five percent of every thing you get me over ten million galleons. Be a nice chance to replace the income you lost when you lost all those bribes I'd bet."

"What else do you want?"

"Several things," Sirius said with a grin. "The first of which is going to be my godson. Price goes up dramatically for every hour he's not here. Again, just to show how reasonable I am, I'm willing to let you have the first hour for free."

Azkaban, one week later:

"I came here to say that I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Sirius," Remus said, looking more pathetic than he ever had in the past.

"Don't worry about it," Sirius waved off the man's concerns. "I doubted you, you doubted me, we both should have been doubting the rat. Important thing is to move on."

"Thanks, Sirius, let me know if there's anything I can do to make it up to you."

"Well, there is one thing."

"Name it?"

"I need someone brainy to help me work out a few things."

"Of course," Remus agreed instantly.

"Knew I could count on you, Mooney. First thing we need to do is figure out a way to get rid of the Dementors."

"Gladly help with that, Paddy. Any idea on what you're going to replace them with?"

"Funny you should mention that, Mooney. You remember how you told me that one of the big things that was allowing Voldemort to recruit so many werewolves was the fact that it was impossible to find jobs for people with furry problems?"

Azkaban, six months later:

"Finally figured out a way to get rid of the Dementors," Remus announced.

"What worked?" Sirius' attention was entirely focused on the small form of his godson who in turn was entirely focused on sucking his left foot.

"Blast furnace," Remus said. "Not sure if it kills them or just traps them in the steel but it gets rid of them. Creates a pretty odd side effect though."

"What side effect?"

"Metal cools down really quickly, more than it should and it stays cool. One of our test bars was frosting up when I left." Remus scratched his chin. "One of the others theorized that you could use it to make a sword that ate souls or something."

"Really?" A wide grin bloomed on Sirius' face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Mooney?"

"We'll never have to worry about remembering to cast cooling charms on our beer ever again!" Remus agreed. "Who knew the horrible creatures would prove to be useful?"

"Just goes to show that everything in the world has value if you look hard enough," Sirius agreed. "Get rid of the Dementors and get started on the improvements."

Azkaban, two days later:

Bellatrix sneered at the animals as they set up the muggle box in front of her cell. This was suppose to break her? This thing was supposed to do what her Dark Master's pain curses could not. She wanted to laugh but refused to grant the beasts the pleasure of hearing her voice.

With a sneer, she resolved to ignore it. That resolution lasted almost as long as the opening sequence. By the second episode of Coronation Street, she was hooked and deep under the spell of an addiction that would eventually come to consume her life.

Azkaban, three days later:

"Think I've found your new prison chef," Remus announced.

"Yeah?"

"Chap who grew up in a chip shop, muggleborn that graduated a few years after we did and is married to one of the new guards. Says he's capable of deep frying sticks of butter with a little help from his wand."

"Tell him he's hired so long as he's willing to prepare six generous meals a day for each prisoner."

"Said he'd be happy to do eight and midnight snacks if we got him some house elves to help out."

Azkaban, fifteen years later:

Voldemort sneered in disgust at how easy things were going. There'd been absolutely no resistance to his breakout, not a single guard had so much as asked him to stop. Hell, they hadn't even bothered to lock the front gate. To be frank, it was a bit insulting. Granted, there was nothing any of them could do to stop a Dark Lord of his caliber but still. With a shake of his head he strolled down to the deepest levels of the prison to the high security cells that no doubt held his most faithful.

"Outta the way," a grotesque voice screeched. "Yer blocking the tele."

Voldemort turned, a spell on his lips to end the enormous creature that had dared speak to him in such a manor. "Av-Bella?" His most faithful of followers had really let herself go. Where once she'd been a sleek engine of destruction, years of deep fried food and a sedentary lifestyle had left her five times her previous size.

"My Lord," the woman replied, shoving another handful of deep fried chocolate lard balls into her mouth. "I knew you'd return." Her eyes stared past him at the television. "The others lost faith but I never did. I've exercised every day so that I'd be prepared to return to your side."

"You've exercised?" he asked in disbelief, staring at the fifty five stone women with profound dismay.

"Yes, my Lord. Years of prison have taken their toll, but I remain the most fit and ready of your servants."

"Most fit?" he felt faint. He was going to have to start over from the beginning, something made immeasurably more difficult without the contacts he'd made through his years at Hogwarts.

The Warden's office:

"Wards are up," Remus announced. "He's not going anywhere or doing any magic unless we're dumb enough to take 'em down."

"Wait till he realizes then send a few of the lads to take his wand, strip search him, and assign him a cell," Sirius ordered.

AN: Was in the mood to write a couple more Sirius fics.

Disclaimer: Part two of 'Consequence of the Triwizard' which can be found in chapter 44 of 'Odd Ideas.'

What Gabrielle Wants, Gabrielle Gets

Harry was gratified when he was not immediately accosted by Fleur's sister the next morning when he made his way to the Great Hall.

"You find a way to get me out of this yet, Hermione?" he asked hopefully as he took his seat next to his best friend.

"I think it's best just to humor her until we're able to get things figured out," Hermione said cheerfully, eyes locked on an old looking book. "In the mean time, why don't you just play along."

"But yesterday you said . . . wait, where did you get that book?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"If you must know, Gabrielle was kind enough to loan it to me from the Delacour family library," Hermione replied, eyes locked on the text.

"You sold me out for a book?!"

"Not just one!" Hermione tried to defend her actions. "A whole library full of extremely rare titles. This one was written by Caesar's personal wizard who accompanied him on all his campaigns and documented all the local magic he came across," she said enthusiastically. "There are thought to be only three copies in existence and it was one of the books they were willing to loan out. Harry, imagine how rare the ones they're not willing to let leave the grounds of the estate will be!"

"I can't believe you." Harry stared at the girl in betrayal. "How could you sell me out for a book. I mean-" the boy cut off when he noticed the approach of the girl who was rapidly becoming the bane of his existence.

Gabrielle skipped up happily towing a strange blonde girl that appeared to have a radish dangling from each ear. The little girl nodded to Hermione and let stream a rapid flow of French finishing with a sniff of disdain.

"She says look what I found, a perfectly good girl and those idiots with the crow on their flag just threw her out. Pigs don't know value when they see it," Hermione reported.

The girl turned from disgusted to enthusiastic in a second chattering rapidly while she stroked the new girl's hair, jiggled her breasts, and slapped her on the rump.

"Thankfully, I'm a very good judge of quality," Hermione translated. "Look at that hair, look how big her tits are, imagine the size they'll be in a couple years, and you could bounce a coin on this ass."

Gabrielle nodded in satisfaction and said another few words.

"She says that since extra girl shows that you're manly so two must show that you're twice as manly as the weak fools that infest this hellish place," Hermione said.

The little girl got a speculative gleam in her eye and blurted a short sentence before laughing maniacally and darting off into the crowd.

"Hermione, please tell me she didn't-"

"My Harry is, of course, at least fifty times more manly than the impotent morons he has the misfortune of attending classes with," Hermione interrupted. "Sorry, Harry."

AN: Noticed a couple very amusing typos in the first part of this.