After he wished Harry good night, Sirius walked to the kitchen. He was sure Magdalena must have had questions about Harry, about why he had not announced her presence, but he was in no mood to discuss that. They could deal with all of this at another time.

"I thought you'd left." he spoke to what he thought was her shadow. Yet he only addressed an empty kitchen, brows furrowing as he realised it was only his tired mind playing games on him.

A pounding in his head ached for a cigarette to drown itself in, and he saw, from the corner of his eye, an amber bag that could belong to no one else but her. He rummaged through Magdalena's sparse belongings tucked away in a corner of the pantry, only to decide in the last moment that he was better than that.

Not the act of sticking his hand where it didn't belong, no, he didn't care much for that. But he had made a promise to himself, to turn a new leaf once Harry was there. No more drinking, and he'd give up smoking anything, save for Agurium, and even that only when he really needed to find answers to something. He had to keep a clear head, and be something of a role model, as opposed to the excuse of a godfather he had been for… well, most of Harry's life.

Shoving her bag back in the depths of the dusty pantry, he cleaned his hand before going back to one of the cleaner bedrooms, only to find it ajar and illuminated from the inside.

He entered the room slowly, nodding towards her as he saw Magdalena sitting atop a mound of pillows on the ground, sipping what smelt like a coffee as another one sat in front of her, ostensibly for him.

He closed the door behind himself, as slowly and silently as he could, before putting on a spell on the room to ensure no one, Harry especially, could hear what they would be discussing. He took a seat in front of her, and took the other coffee, taking a sip from it. He drank about half of it, wondering why the drink ran so well down his throat and warmed him up so quickly, before realising she must have dropped a few drops of alcohol in it.

"I thought you'd left." he repeated, this time to her, as he had first intended.

She didn't answer, and merely continued sipping on her coffee, eyes slowly raising to meet his, wordlessly. For a single moment, she opened her mouth, however he was faster than her, eager to find out what had been happening over in Hogsmeade whilst him and Harry had been bothering Ablai.

"How's our good friend Karkaroff, then?" he asked, arms wrapping around his chest as he put the cup down in front of himself. "Well, your good friend."

He did enjoy hearing about the various misfortunes of Igor Karkaroff. It was the little things. Magdalena, however, did not seem to share in his cheerful attitude.

"More terrified than ever." she answered in a morbid tone, before putting the cup down and lifting her sleeve, showing him the skin of her inner forearm. As she continued speaking, goosebumps started forming, as if her own flesh was afraid of what her eyes had seen and her mouth relived. "The Mark he has, that You-Know-Who put on him, it's becoming clearer and clearer. And that's not merely his word, I have seen it with my own two eyes, Sirius. I've touched the thing with my fingers. I cannot tell if I'm imagining things, but it's like the lines are slithering against my skin when I touch it. It's been hours, and I've washed my hands many times, but it disturbs me to no end still…"

"Dark Magic'll do that to you alright, Leni." His brows furrowed as he pulled her sleeve back down, squeezing her wrist for a second. Her skin was cold, and he lifted up his wand to start a fire in the chimney. "You're fine. Karkaroff reckons Voldemort's somehow fully back, then?"

Magdalena narrowed her eyes at his mention of Voldemort, lips pursing.

"Not quite. He does seem to be of the impression that you are certainly trying to ensure his return, however."

"Is that so?" he furrowed his brows. "Interesting. And suppose I did… how would I do that, exactly?"

"Karkaroff believes it's necromancy that would do it." At the mere mention of necromancy, Sirius scoffed loudly, almost spilling the rest of his coffee. Useless twat, that Karkaroff, wasting their time like that. Wasting his time, wasting Harry's time, wasting- "Listen to me, listen, Sirius Black." her tone raised slightly as she spoke his name, before telling him about her conversation with Karkaroff. The travels. Albania. Mina Ablai's books. Hell, Hedda Ablai's own books. One of them could potentially have held-

It was possible. He disregarded the idea he first came across it, but perhaps it could be possible. After all, they never asked her about what she must have thought about necromancy.

"Did you get the other thing I asked you to?"

Magdalena nodded, and handed him a small pouch that contained a few strands of Karkaroff's hair. As he took it from her, his fingers grasped hers, and he squeezed her knuckles gently for a second, in a sign of appreciation for what she has been doing - after all, Karkaroff was very much a vile man from all points of view, and it can't have been easy opening up her legs and pretending to enjoy it, which he shared with her.

"I don't think it's much about enjoyment from his side either. It's quite… it's different." she chuckled.

"Oh?" He arched a brow, and waited for her to finish her coffee before continuing. "Don't tell me Karkaroff's swept you off your feet. In fact, you've made me quite curious, my friend. How does Karkaroff-...?" He wasn't sure how to word it not to offend her, and finished his question with a maddening laugh, which she joined in briefly, covering her mouth before responding.

"It's simply put…" as she spoke, her voice lowered back into a whisper, amusement disappearing into a grim reaction. "I could feel the desperation. I could tell, easily tell, that he thought each thrust would be his last, as if he thought the time he had left on this Earth was running out so quickly, that he might disappear any second, and he wanted to drag me with him, with how hard he held onto me, as if I was an anchor tethering him to life." she looked up at him, and shook her head. "He didn't mistreat me, but that Mark… seeing that Mark on his skin when he would be towering above me, to have it so close to my eyes, and so clear… I wonder if there would be no witch or wizard terrified to have it as close to their eyes as I have."

"The Dark Mark getting so clear…" Sirius muttered, more to himself, fingers idly playing with the strings of the pouch."That would mean Snape's would have as well. Everyone that was a Death Eater will know he's getting stronger. That's probably why they started having their fun at the Quidditch cup, they thought those good times were back. I imagine some other fine wizarding folks have been trembling in their knickers lately. You still have that extra Polyjuice at your place?"

Magdalena nodded, and Sirius tapped at his moustache with one finger.

"I'll write to Remus when I get a chance. Karkaroff is one, but I need reinforcements, I need both you and him. There's not many Death Eaters I reckon are easy to access for us, and we'd need not one, but two… Harry's going to that Yule Ball of his, where he can get me some of Snape's. Only one I can think of… I mean, Imperius claim be damned, we all know that was a bloody lie - only one I can think of is Lucius Malfoy." He raised his eyes to the witch in front of him, however she shook her head.

"Lucius Malfoy is out of the question."

"You are a treat, Lena, one that's wasted on Karkaroff, however…" he chuckled amused, putting the pouch in his pocket before finishing his still steaming cup of coffee. "Malfoy's a slippery kind of wizard, but I doubt he'd be in this particular regard. Plus, my dear cousin would remove his balls if he even tried. With the Tournament and him trying to suck up to Fudge while a Dark Mark's on him, he'd pay too much attention to what he is doing to entertain such a plan. I only need something of his for potion however, not to gain his trust. Our best shot is to track his moves until we figure where he is to be found most often, and take it from there. A literal slip and fall is all we need. Agreeable?"

Magdalena agreed, this time more spirited, and it was all he needed. The plan was forming more and more. Pettigrew for now was not forgotten, but pushed aside, as he could simply not form a connection between Voldemort and him - but he'd deal with him, he would ensure Pettigrew would receive his punishment after the bigger threat would be disposed of.

The main plan was simple. As Harry claimed to know exactly how to dispose of Voldemort, then Sirius, disguised as Karkaroff, would take Harry to Voldemort himself. However, there were still several aspects to consider. They did not know what form Voldemort would be in - could that form even be rid of? They also did not know where he was - but perhaps if they knew how he was getting stronger, strong enough to make the Dark Mark reappear, they would figure out where he was.

As he thought about his plan, with the new information gathered from Magdalena, she had already started preparing him a pipe of Agurium without him even needing to ask her. With a tacit understanding, he moved to write to Remus, asking him to come to Grimmauld Place tomorrow, at the latest by noon, so they would have enough time to debrief and try to catch a glimpse of Malfoy at the Ministry before it would close for the day.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked her after he finished writing his letter, taking the pipe from her before turning it and letting her light it.

"All this time I've been researching souls, about complete souls and salvation, about your soul as an entity removed from others, well, yours and Harry's souls seem to be… It seems Harry is your salvation as much as you are his."

"Stay with me then, bird, and perhaps I'll be kind enough to save your wretched soul too."

This time, Sirius did not enter the Potters' house. He wanted to - he truly wanted to step inside and pretend it was all normal, as he watched James, Lily and Harry enjoy dinner through the dinner. He thought back onto a mere few hours ago. The awkwardness of Harry learning how to dance a waltz. How they laughed. How he repeated the steps Lena taught him with more and more confidence. He wondered, how it would have been, had Lily and James been there - instead of him, Sirius Black, back in his old home, the home he never wished to return to, instead of that poor, widowed soul that was now stuck with him for some odd reason, instead of that old mouldy home full of dark artefacts. There could have been a mother, a father, a son, and a cat, but instead there were just some broken people.

He took a step back from their house, and turned around, only to enter Dumbledore's office. Again.

The portraits, however, were not of previous Headmasters. The portraits were of Harry, of Harry as an infant. Of Harry when he'd first seen him as a teenager. Portraits of a baby, of a little toddler, of a prepubescent boy with shaggy hair, all of them with Harry's lighting scar on them. Portraits which moved to show a variety of emotions, from an infant sleeping with a small smile, to a crying teething baby, to a sad toddler, to a look devoid of happiness on a Harry that looked to be about seven. Sirius spun around slowly, taking in all these various images and portraits of what surely must have been Harry - all the Harry's he has missed, all the Harry's that Lily and James could never and would never see - only to spin around and be faced with none other than Lily Potter sitting at Dumbeldore's face, a serene expression on her face as she appeared to wait for him to notice her presence.

Only now did Sirius understand what Harry meant when he talked about the creature from the ritual. The Lily Potter he had experienced the previous night looked, and acted fully like the Lily he knew, but the Lily in front of him had something uncanny, something he could simply not put his finger on, yet something that made him realise he was facing a being that was simply put… something other.

"We finally meet." he spoke, bowing his head lightly before taking a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"I heard from the young man around us that you are the one who has done me the honour of repaying the massacre of my favourite people." the creature, spirit, or whatever it was inhabiting the form of Lily Potter stated, with Lily's tone and wry smile.

"I suppose I have."

"I suppose you expect nothing in exchange."

"I suppose I do not."

"Good man."

"Supposedly I asked you about your full deal with Harry, suppose you could tell me that?"

"Your godson will receive my help to turn mortal, and also defeat, he whose humanity has once been exchanged for immortality, in an exchange he has freely agreed to." the creature spoke quickly, as if this was simply a business transaction at Gringotts. "However… as you may have guessed, and from your godson's correct refusal to talk to you about it, the terms of an unmade exchange cannot be freely discussed."

Sirius did not speak for a long time. It could not be freely discussed, however it was clear from the creature's wording that two exchanges have been made. One for mortality, and another for defeat.

That was why Greyback's murder did not fully account for Voldemort, and why Harry had to agree to another term. He couldn't help but both be impressed with Harry and disappointed that he would trade something, something Sirius was terrified he did not know, of his own.

"Could I make my own exchange, then? Without the ritual, just you and me, now?"

The creature smiled with Lily's smile, and with a movement of its fingers - or rather, Lily's fingers - it spun around in its seat slowly, appearing to ponder it.

"Do you know, my good man, when the last exchange I have made has been?" it waited for Sirius to shake his head, before continuing. "Since I have exchanged immortality for not only humanity, but also, unknowingly, the souls of those who knew my ritual. And what am I to do with this humanity but decry those souls, and myself, having wasted away without a single summoning since then? Why, the deal of your godson is so much sweeter to me." The creature grinned with Lily's grin, and leaned back into the chair in a movement so reminiscent of a young Lily Potter that had won 50 Housepoints that it sent a shiver down Sirius's spine. "For your bother and almost death, my good man, and for my drought of deals, I will consider yours."

Sirius nodded his head. If only he knew what Harry had exchanged of his… He looked around the portraits around him, one after one, yet as he looked, one by one, the subject in the frames slowly started to disappear. First, the infant pictures, Harry without his scar, the sleeping Harry, the crying Harry, the Harry mushing a banana as he tried to eat, then those of a toddler Harry, one by one, they all slowly faded. Brows furrowed, he turned towards the creature, whose grin widened in a way he had never seen Lily grin before.

His shirt was soaking wet and smelling of something rotten and deeply unclean. It was pressed painfully against his chest, yet he was afraid that if he touched it, his chest would crumble. He wasn't sure where he was, but it was a dark place, stinking of old wine and putrid wood, and so was he. He touched his hair - it was just as soaking wet. He could barely see in front of him, and turned, and turned, until he saw the smallest inch of a light, and he pushed his hands in front of himself, only to realise the putridness was coming from an enormous duvet he was under.

Merlin, everything in this house should be burnt down.

Sirius slowly opened his eyes, to see a familiar face. A face devoid of expression that grabbed at his shoulders and lifted him up as he put his hands over his head, trying to calm the whirlwind in his mind. Magdalena was speaking, but he could barely understand what she was saying, let alone follow her words as she pulled the duvet away from the bed and onto the floor. He didn't understand what she wanted, but regardless of what it was, he didn't want to follow it. He couldn't follow it. He only wanted it all to go away.

He had opened a hundred doors. He had stepped into dozens of worlds. He had walked into room after field after forest after room. He had run miles around Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, the Shrieking Shack. He had returned to Azkaban. He swam in the Black Lake. He had turned into a dog and back and back and back. But he could still find no trace of Voldemort. And then suddenly - he had been pulled back into this world. And on this world, on the other side of this disgusting duvet, was this witch, in her silk gown, who was piercingly looking, not at him, rather through him.

Sirius put one hand on his throat, as if to make sure everything was still there, and watched as Magdalena handed him a glass of water. He drank it all, quickly and loudly, before dropping back onto the mattress. He needed just a second more for his thoughts to resurface back with him.

"What happened?"

As Magdalena spoke, her voice was slow, questioning each word uttered and almost wanting to take them back, one by one, as they crawled out of her throat.

"I wonder… I had to pull you back. Your body was no longer sleeping, in the state Agurium puts it in, but it had entered - well, simply put, you were no longer breathing, your heart had stopped. I am not sure where you had gone, but I had to return you."

"Did I die, then?" he asked.

He watched her shake her head in a definite movement, and laughed, his good spirits returning. He felt his body alive, he could remember everything that had happened in his trance, in this… magical subconscious, as it was called by Ablai. His body may have been alive, but it felt heavy, and he felt unease upon trying to unbutton and pull away his sweat-soaked clothes.

"Would you like me to help you with that? I pity what you've been through."

"Only if you don't deem it too humiliating." He couldn't care less at this point, what she thought of him, and his arms flopped uselessly at his side.

"I do not."

"In fact, you've come after having done things not too different to this with Karkaroff." he mused, idly picking a piece of lint from her hair as she undid the buttons of his cuffs. Magdalena nodded, which confirmed his suspicions. "Haven't you found anything in your journals and books about something like this?"

"I wonder… Prostitution for the sake of a soul, isn't it?" she replied, his amusement appearing to reach her as well as the shadow of a smile appeared on her face. "I haven't, but I will look for it."

"Please do. Why is it, do you think, that some women find themselves having moments of utter and supreme devotion towards men to whom they don't owe anything? Is this some kind of… I don't know, penitence?"

"I wonder…" Yet there was no sense of wondering in her voice. She seemed sure of herself as she spoke, still looking up at him, speaking as if she had the perfect irrefutable answer to his problem, only masking it in supposition out of humility for him not having figured it out. "Perhaps out of disinterest towards their own being. Perhaps out of a disponibility that only some creatures are capable of. It could be a certain way of existing in this world. Perhaps some women-"

"-like yourself-"

"-are simply writing their body of work in this way. And after this penitence, as you call it, is where sainthood begins."

"I like that idea. Whoring as life's poetic gesture." Sirius laughed, loudly and madly as he threw his head back onto the pillow. "What a poet you are, Leni. Come now, help me up and to the bathroom before Harry wakes up."

He raised his hands, and she helped him out of the bed and onto his feet. His entire body felt heavy and raw, and even her silk robe scratched at his bare skin in such an uncomfortable way that he found himself trying to stand by himself if only to not brush against her robe.

"Will you tell me what you've gone through this time?"

"I will at once. Let me first… I need a cold shower to bring this broken body out of the dead. Then I will."

"You are a strange, but endlessly amusing man, Sirius Black." she laughed. He laughed as well, trying to shake off the death rattles that he could still feel in his chest.

"Why, I have to, otherwise I'm afraid we'd be losing your services to cowardly Bulgarian Death Eaters."