Dorea stepped out of the floo into Sirius's flat.

It was hardly the first time she'd been here — though she hadn't had that many opportunities, since he hadn't had it for that long. After his name had been cleared last year, Sirius had spent most of his time at Ancient House, or visiting a rotation of friends and family. (Or lovers, of course.) When summer came around, he'd begun spending a significant number of nights with Liz at her new home in Ireland — she'd even had a guest bedroom set aside for him — and he spent some time with them in Maidstone as well. There wasn't room in the house for Sirius, but he hadn't complained about just sleeping on the sofa in the living room, a few times Richard had set up the spare mattress in some available corner, whatever worked.

If she was being honest, Dorea had been a little worried that Sirius being around, even in the house, might cause some...difficulty. With Mum and Richard, she meant — it wouldn't be at all unreasonable for Richard to be uncomfortable with his wife's ex-husband hanging around the house, especially while he was away at work. But, as far as she could tell, it hadn't been an issue. She suspected Sirius had executed an aggressive charm offensive on Richard while she hadn't been around, and Sirius could be very charming when he wanted to be. She'd been rather surprised when a letter from Mum had referenced Sirius still coming around after Dorea had left for Hogwarts, helping with the boys or hanging around over dinner or whatever, but the three of them getting along was better than the alternative.

She did feel a little bitter, sometimes, that the boys were going to know her own father growing up better than she had, but that was silly. It's not like that was Sirius's fault, not really.

But it hadn't been very long before Sirius had decided he wanted his own place, which wasn't just some apartment in Ancient House. (He had zero interest in returning to live at Grimmauld Place full-time, which was understandable.) He'd wanted a flat, preferably somewhere that could be accessible to muggles — sometimes he went to muggle pubs or clubs or whatever else, and it was better not to rely on them to have somewhere they could...go. Despite how severely that might seem to limit the options, it hadn't actually been that difficult to arrange. One of the peripheral enclaves in London — somewhere around Brixton or Camberwell, she was pretty sure — had a housing block along one of the edges that had exits directly out to the muggle side. The flats couldn't be let out to muggles, for obvious Secrecy reasons, but the flats themselves were modern enough that they could pass for muggle without attracting too much suspicion, as long as nothing obvious was lying around. (And as long as any muggle guests didn't look too closely at the appliances.) Sirius would have to be physically touching a muggle guest to get them through the aversion wards, but it was doable.

The House also happened to own the building, like a lot of property here and there around London, so it'd been easy to arrange a flat for Sirius to live in. It was hardly an especially luxurious place, but it was nice enough. The hearth — which itself would be peculiar to find in an average muggle flat, but was all but obligatory in magical homes — was in the sitting room, a bank of windows along the opposite wall letting the sun in. (Not that there was much to see, another housing block on the opposite side of the street.) Sofas and chairs set in a vague circle around the fire or facing the windows, a turntable in the corner, currently filling the air with some noisy rock music Dorea didn't recognise — not turned up too loud at the moment, thankfully. There were photos hung up on the walls, various friends and family — most of them were magical, animated, she knew the frames would be enchanted to prevent muggles from noticing anything out of the ordinary — stacks of records over by the player, books filling a shelf nearby, but other than that the room was relatively empty of character. Sirius hadn't been living here that long, but also he'd want to avoid filling the flat with anything too obviously magical, just in case.

Dorea could tell immediately that the turntable and the lights overhead were magic, of course, but she didn't think they would seem suspicious to someone who didn't know what to look for. The place was surprisingly plain for someone like Sirius, regardless.

It was mid-morning, but she'd still thought it was possible Sirius might be in bed — or that someone he'd spent the night with might still be around which, awkwardly enough, had happened a few times. But there was music playing, which meant he must be up by now, somewhere. He wasn't in the sitting room, and he wasn't in the kitchen, she could see into it from here, maybe he was deeper into the flat...

She was halfway toward the hallway when she twitched at the call of an unfamiliar voice. "Is that you, fy lloerbelydrell? I know I'm running a little late, I was going to– ah!"

Dorea froze, staring. Standing at the mouth of the hallway was a very tall, very blond man.

Also, he was very much not wearing a shirt.

There was a pair of soft-looking trousers — blue fading to white in irregular patches, almost like a cloudy sky — held up by a drawstring at his hips. And that was it, he was barefoot, naked from the waist up, the only cover at all from his hair — a slightly washed-out colour, not quite gold but not quite silver either, straight and long, drooping in a curtain nearly to his waist, something about it somehow managing to look soft, she wasn't quite sure how. But his hair was mostly pushed behind his shoulders, only a few locks down the front, so his chest down past his waist and his arms were more or less uncovered.

She could feel herself staring, but she couldn't stop.

After a short pause, the man's face curling into a crooked sort of smile, he said, "You're not my moonbeam."

Dorea tried to respond, her voice was working, some kind of sound came out, but it definitely wasn't actual words — her head was filled with staticky fuzz, she couldn't think of absolutely anything to say. She couldn't stop staring, she felt her face going warm, her stomach squirming...

The man blinked at her for a second, then glanced down at himself. "Ah, yes," he said, chuckling under his breath a little, "perhaps clothes would be appropriate. If you'll excuse me a moment, Dorea." He turned around and walked back the way he'd come, disappearing deeper into the flat.

Once he was gone, Dorea tipped back a few steps, and flopped down into one of the chairs. She leaned forward, covering her face with both hands, and tried to force herself to breathe normal, focussing on her own thoughts, trying to straighten herself out. (Doing a basic occlumency exercise, but she never had gotten very good at that.) It didn't help that she could feel the blush on her cheeks through her palms. This man, whoever the hell he was — someone Sirius had had stay overnight, she assumed — wasn't, like, extra especially attractive or anything, kind of scrawny and, just, normal-looking...but still. She'd been taken by surprise was all, hadn't been expecting to bump into underdressed men walking around Sirius's flat.

And now that she was starting to calm down, and he wasn't standing right there, being all half-dressed and sexy, Dorea was starting to feel rather embarrassed. Had she really made some inarticulate noise at him, ugh...

Apparently Sirius did have a lover over at the moment, and Dorea had immediately made a complete idiot of herself. That was just great.

The man's voice came echoing down the hall, projected by some kind of spell. "By the by, if you're looking for your father, he should be back any minute. He left to find us some breakfast — Sirius can't fry bread without smoking out half the house, precious man's hopeless, there's hardly any food in the kitchen. How it goes when you're half-raised by house-elves, I suppose."

...That was true enough. Andi could manage a few things by herself now, and that was after decades, Ted still did most of the cooking in the Tonks house. The impression she got was that Sirius mostly lived off of take-away, when he wasn't staying with someone who could do the cooking for him, like Mum or Liz or Ted or whoever else.

He didn't say anything further than that — she thought he'd wanted to tell her Sirius was coming back soon, in case she was considering fleeing back through the floo — after a couple of minutes of silence came back out where she could see him, now fully dressed. Though, dressed somewhat eccentrically, but that wasn't exactly unusual for mages, was it. He was wearing canvas trousers and wraparound tunic, the sleeves cut close along his forearms, which would be perfectly-normal professional dress — if it weren't for the colour, a peculiar mottled green with tiny little blotches of blue and yellow and red, a variety of mismatched keys attached to a leather armband decorated with a curling design done in colourful glass beads, his hair tied back with a glittering embroidered handkerchief.

Dorea frowned at him — seeing him fully dressed, he was suddenly very familiar. She was certain she'd seen him before, even if it was only in photographs, but the name wasn't coming to her.

"I do apologise for the, ah, less than fully dignified introduction," he said, with a crooked, rueful sort of smile. "We weren't expecting guests, and when I heard the floo I thought it was my daughter — she knows I'm here, and to come if she has need of anything."

So, Sirius was letting this bloke he was, um, seeing give out the floo password for his flat. She wasn't quite sure what that meant, or if it even meant anything at all. "Um, I'm sorry, who are you?" Was that rude? She wasn't trying to be, just, still a little out of sorts.

"Oh, of course! Slipped my mind, careless of me." He seemed to be crossing the room toward the kitchen, he paused in front of Dorea's chair — and he dipped into an overly-florid bow, complete with silly hand-twirling. With the very colourful dress and all, she was honestly having trouble deciding whether that was supposed to be sarcastic or not. "Xenophilius Lovegood, at your service, Lady Black. Your father speaks of you often." And then he continued on toward the kitchen without another word, or waiting for a response.

...Sirius was shagging Xeno Lovegood.

Dorea had absolutely no idea how to process that revelation, just, sitting speechless in her chair, her eyes following Lovegood into the kitchen.

She knew Sirius could be a bit, well, but she hadn't seen this coming.

"I understand you know my Luna?" Lovegood was standing in the kitchen, by the look of it putting in earrings. Piercings were somewhat rare among mages but, well, Lovegoods — Xeno actually looked pretty normal relative to most Mistwalkers, but she was aware he hadn't been raised on the commune.

"Not really, no. We're in different houses and years."

"Ah. I only ask because she's mentioned you before — neutrally, which is quite rare, she had few enough positive experiences at Hogwarts."

"...We spoke a few times, I guess." Dorea had more heard about Luna than actually spoken to her. The gossip about her going around hadn't been very flattering — Luna was a very odd girl, in the way a lot of Seers could be. She definitely wouldn't say they were friends or anything, she was honestly a little taken aback that Luna had mentioned Dorea to her father at all. "How is she doing these days, by the way? Last time we spoke she seemed, I don't know, tired." She'd heard from Daphne that Luna hadn't come back to Hogwarts after spring break last year, she'd been away from school for over a year now.

"Oh, quite well. Or well improved, in any case." Lovegood came back out from the kitchen, with a small stack of plates and some cutlery, started setting it out on the table toward that end of the sitting room. He did have earrings in now — the were mismatched, the one in his right ear a purple and white flower of some kind, by the texture maybe painted ceramic (though it was small enough it was hard to tell), the other a silvery crescent moon dangling on a delicate chain.

It struck Dorea as somewhat feminine and very peculiar but, well, Lovegoods.

"She's been staying with my cousins, on Ynys Dywyll — it was a little shaky at first, but she's taken to life at the commune wonderfully. She's so much brighter than she used to be, even before poor Ginevra, all the way back to when we lost Dora. The house is rather quiet without her home, but honestly I've come to regret not sending her there earlier. She is... Well, I was in no position to give her what she needed myself."

This seemed very personal to her, out of nowhere, but she tried to brush off the awkwardness as best as she could. "That's not really your fault. I'm sure, um, losing Pandora was just as difficult for you as it was for Luna." Dorea was mostly certain his wife had been named Pandora, anyway...

"Ah, true, true. All the same. I'll tell her that you asked, I think she'll appreciate that someone from school was still thinking of her."

...And now Lovegood was making her feel faintly guilty — she hadn't been thinking of how Luna was doing now, meeting Lovegood had just reminded her.

Before she could figure out what to say, Lovegood perked up a little, his head tilting, making the little crescent moon sway back and forth. "I believe that's your father now, come to rescue you from my embarrassing lack of shame."

Dorea felt her face warming again. "It's all right, you just took me by surprise." She didn't know if he was referring to not having a shirt on earlier or the personal details about his relationship with his daughter, but that was true for both anyway.

"You needn't mind your manners with me, Dorea, I'm well aware I can be a bit much for people."

He'd hardly finished the sentence before the latch on the door clicked, and it swung open. "I'm back, Xeno, I hope you like—" Sirius, today dressed in denims and a tee shirt Dorea assumed was for some rock band or other, abruptly cut off when he stepped far enough into the flat to spot her. "Dorea! This is a surprise, I didn't know you were coming by today! Did you have breakfast– ah, I suppose you probably have. Well, I got extra, if you'd like something..."

For the next few minutes they were preoccupied with setting up what Dorea guessed was supposed to be breakfast — it was nearly eleven, but whatever. Sirius had arrived with a sizeable jug of coffee and a bag stuffed with a variety of things he must have picked up from multiple shops or food stalls or whatever. There were buns and pastries, a few slices of quiche, a couple stuffed rolls, a carefully-sealed container of steaming beans and mushrooms in gravy. Far more than she thought the two men would eat for breakfast, she assumed Sirius meant to keep the leftovers to use over the next couple days. Sirius unloaded his bag, while Lovegood poured the coffee out into cups, sure, she'd take some coffee, though she could use some sugar for hers...

Dorea wasn't particularly hungry, but she accepted the coffee and took a spiced apple bun anyway, if only to avoid awkwardly sitting here while they were eating. Soon enough the rest was divided between the men or else set aside for later, their coffee sorted. Lovegood put far too much honey in his...and also drizzled a bit over the beans, she couldn't quite stop herself from making a face — Sirius just smirked at her, amused.

While they started chatting — not about anything important, Xeno (as he insisted she call her) about the work he had to catch up on this afternoon, some questions to her about school — Dorea surreptitiously watched the two of them. She tried not to be too obvious, didn't want to, she didn't know, be weird about it. But she didn't think she could be blamed if she was, a little, because this was weird.

Not only because Xeno was a man — though, honestly, partly that. She was well aware that Sirius was interested in both women and men, it was hardly as though he made a secret of it, though this was... Well, okay, it wasn't the first time she'd bumped into a man he'd had over, but this was the first time something like this had happened. It's not like it was serious with any of the people he was seeing, often just one-night stands, so hanging around having breakfast with them and his daughter would be...peculiar. Dorea was getting better about not being unreasonably uncomfortable about this sort of thing — visiting Toby and Nathan had been very awkward immediately after she'd found out, but it had helped her get over it — but that she was better about it didn't mean it wasn't still...sort of weird. She couldn't even say what about it made her vaguely uncomfortable, it just did.

Though she couldn't say how much of that vague discomfort was because this was literally Xenophilius Lovegood — the man had something of a reputation...but maybe that wasn't fair. She was starting to get the feeling, increasingly the longer they talked, that his reputation was exaggerated. He was somewhat peculiar, of course, in case the clothes and the earrings hadn't given that away, and very blunt sometimes, like so baldly talking about his personal life with someone he'd just met and openly speculating on the likelihood that the Minister was having an affair with some goblin official whose name Dorea didn't recognise (part of one of the absurd conspiracies the Quibbler printed, she assumed). But while he did seem maybe a little off-colour, most people talked about him like he was insane — honestly, sort of like how Luna had come off that time the'd bumped into each other at the Greenwood, babbling about wrackspurts and porphyds or whatever.

Perhaps he was putting in the effort to seem normal-ish, in front of Dorea, or perhaps he'd seemed especially peculiar closer to his wife's death, and the impression had stuck. It could be either, she guessed.

Also? It turned out Xeno Lovegood was kind of handsome, and that was awkward. Looking over at him, she kept remembering him without a shirt on, she couldn't stop it, it was uncomfortable — she was still having trouble meeting his eyes.

Regardless of whichever part of this was making her most uncomfortable, it was a strange, awkward situation she'd stumbled into. She honestly didn't know what to do with herself.

Dora had long finished her apple bun, sipping at her coffee and watching the odd pair interact, when the conversation finally moved on. "So," Sirius chirped, "what brings you by here this morning? Not that it isn't a pleasant surprise, of course."

"I needed to talk to you about something."

"Oh? What about?"

"Er..." She glanced over at Xeno. "It's about the club."

A flash of exasperation crossed Sirius's face, but it was there and gone in a blink, covered with a smile. "We can discuss Order business in front of Xeno. Last time around, he wasn't a member himself, but he was married to one — Pandora was our best healer."

She was pretty sure she had heard something at some point about Mrs Lovegood being in the Order, it'd just slipped her mind. "Right, of course. Are you joining this time?" she asked Xeno.

"Decidedly not," he said, still perfectly soft and pleasant, his relaxed smile not having moved a millimetre. "Dora trusted Albus Dumbledore better than I do — which is to say, she trusted him as far as he was being watched, and as soon as he isn't I would check my back for knives."

Dorea was a little taken aback — as much by the contrast between the content of what he was saying and the smooth, easy tone he'd said it in — was left blinking at him for a few seconds, snapped out of it by a snort from Sirius. "Xeno is a communalist, Doe, they don't like Albus."

"...Oh." She was aware that the communalists generally disliked Dumbledore, considered him a traitor to their cause, she just...hadn't known that about Xeno, was all. Though it did rather explain a lot.

"One hardly must go back that far to find cause to distrust him. The sorcerer up the tower may see much, but only shares what and to whom he will."

Dorea had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Sirius gave an agreeable sort of nod. "That too. Think of Xeno as an ally of convenience against the Death Eaters — he's not going to go babbling Order secrets to our enemies, but he's not likely to go out of his way to do Albus any favours either. Certainly not after the Weasley girl, and the news around Hagrid and the acromantulae."

Fair enough, a lot of people had lost whatever favourable opinion for Dumbledore they'd had around then — hardly everyone, there were still plenty of people in the Light who respected him, but many. "All right. Dumbledore has been talking with Andi and me, and a few other people, about a good place to meet, and about starting to set up safehouses. We thought Grimmauld Place would be good for both. There are plenty of bedrooms to house people who are in danger, and since Ravenhome has been restored we don't need it for formal meetings anymore anyway."

Sirius was nodding along, once she was done said, "Not a bad idea, yeah. It's smart to have a safehouse in London, even if only as a temporary stopping point — it's a short hop from there to Calais, the most direct evacuation route for people who need to get out of the country. The stop at Aber Wrach in Brittany is mandatory, so the Breton route is more vulnerable."

"That was Andi's thought exactly. We also thought a meeting place near some of the major targets, like Charing and Old Town, would be a good idea, just to keep an eye on things, you know."

"Also makes sense. You don't need anything from me, do you? I can tolerate going there for meetings, but honestly that place makes my skin crawl, I'd rather not hang around."

"I don't think so? I have access to the wards myself, the elves and I can handle it." The Family wards had their own eccentricities, which meant they were unlikely to play nicely with whatever security measures Dumbledore — and more to the point, Auror Moody — were likely to want to implement. The various intertwined magics of the House of Black would need to be temporarily pulled back from the house to accommodate the Order, but that was relatively easily managed — it was partly within Dorea's control of the wards, as the Lady of the Family, though Andi said they would need to do a brief ritual to pass custodianship of the property to Dumbledore. It didn't require any help from Sirius, was the point. "And I'm sure whichever Order members will be staying there can manage household matters on their own. We only wanted to warn you before people started moving in, so you don't walk in there and find strangers in the house. Also, to explain why you might forget where it is, briefly."

Sirius scowled. "Albus is still using the Fidelius? after what happened to James and Lily?"

"Um...yes? My understanding is that there simply is no better way to hide a place, so long as, er." It maybe wasn't the best idea to suggest that the problem with the Potters was that they'd picked an untrustworthy Secret Keeper, especially since switching had been partly Sirius's idea. "Dumbledore plans on making himself the Secret Keeper, so."

"The fidēlis isn't the only point of weakness," Sirius said, an edge of bitterness on his voice. "The purpose of the ritual is to hide knowledge — the exact wording of the Secret matters. It's fine enough for a private home, it would have completely hidden the house in Godric's Hollow from anyone looking for James and Lily, but the more general you make it the more exploitable it becomes."

"What do you mean?" She didn't know how the Fidelius worked very well, honestly, it wasn't something you saw in books very often...or at all. Basically the only time she'd ever heard of it was in references to Dumbledore's use of it back in the war, and those normally didn't include many details.

His eyes tipping up to the ceiling for a second, Sirius sighed. "Let's say Albus uses the Fidelius on Grimmauld Place. How is he going to word that Secret? Maybe, the meeting place of the Order of the Phoenix is at Twelve Grimmauld Place? Or maybe referring to a safehouse, whatever. That would mean the Secret is that the Order is meeting there — the property will only be hidden from people looking for the Order's meeting place. Anyone trying to find the house for any other reason will still be able to. And using the property for multiple purposes makes it more vulnerable...I think, I'm guessing on this point. I think, if the Secret refers to the meeting place, people looking for the safehouse will be able to find it, since it isn't covered in the Secret, and vice versa. That can be patched up by referring to both functions in the Secret, but you see the vulnerability there, if you don't think of something.

"And it has the same issue all avoidance-based wards do, if somewhat more...thorough. Let's say, You-Know-Who is trying to find where we're meeting up, and he has reason to suspect it's at a Black property — which isn't unreasonable, we're the visible supporters with all the money and properties. He's going through the list of known Black properties, and he notices the funny fact that the Blacks don't seem to have a townhouse in London, which he knows they must, since our predecessors were known to hold meetings there. He's been there before, he knows it exists, but the Fidelius is preventing him from recognising that, because he's looking for our meeting place. But Old Snakeface is a devious fucking bastard, so he orders his lackeys to go burn to the ground any Black property they can reach, and kill anyone they find there — they aren't specifically looking for our meeting place, so the effect of the Fidelius won't trigger. And the ritual of the Fidelius requires removing all other protections, so the house would actually be more vulnerable to attack, from people who aren't specifically looking for the Order, so they will be able to reach it. It's a gamble, a big one."

That...couldn't be right. If the weaknesses in the Fidelius were truly that big and obvious, Dorea couldn't imagine Dumbledore would use it so much. Sure, the former Headmaster was hardly perfect, obviously, but he wasn't an idiot either — surely he would realise this vulnerability existed, or at least listen when Sirius explained it to him. Assuming Sirius bothered explaining it to him, anyway. She didn't know how long he'd been aware of this, and she knew he was still (justifiably) angry with Dumbledore over his imprisonment.

Though, when she thought about it, maybe not — it was possible the weaknesses in the Fidelius were specific enough that it'd never been relevant before, but might be for a property as public as Grimmauld Place. Sirius had said himself that it worked just fine for private homes, and most of the safehouses had been private homes, and in many cases had been still, so might have benefited from the same effects. The problem with Grimmauld Place specifically might come in because it was such a well-known property, having been where the Blacks used to host all manner of meetings and dinners and stuff once upon a time. It was too well known, so the weaknesses of the Fidelius were magnified in that specific case.

She was turning over that thought when it suddenly clicked, like an arithmancy problem coming together. "Oh! Um, could we get around that by setting the Secret to something more like, the Black property known as Grimmauld Place is...somewhere in Islington, whatever, I don't know how specific it would have to be. Then, wouldn't we be able to openly say that's where we're meeting, and that there's a safehouse there, but people looking for it wouldn't be able to find it anyway?"

"That is an excellent solution, Dorea," Xeno said, while Sirius just sat there gaping at her, clearly trying to work through the effects of doing it that way. "Sometimes before a solution may present itself one must take a step back and look at it sideways — thinking worthy of the House of Wisdom, if I do say so myself. Clever girl you have here, Sirius."

Still sounding a little unfocussed, thinking, Sirius said, "She gets that from her mother. Everyone knows I'm a reckless fool."

"Sounds like a fascinating woman, Abigail, perhaps I should meet her one day."

"Perhaps. You two would get along, I suspect — she definitely would have been in Ravenclaw."

"Really?" Dorea asked, frowning a little. "I always thought Slytherin."

Sirius shook his head. "You didn't know her back when she was still doing theatre. That woman's an artist first, and artists go to Ravenclaw."

...Fair enough. "But do you think wording the Secret like that would work?"

"It should do, yeah. There's still the issue of the avoidance gap, but the entirety of Islington is too broad of one to be exploitable. If it were me, I'd want to test it first, to be certain it'll work the way we think, but it sounds promising. Good thinking, Dorea," he said raising his coffee cup a bit in a little salute.

"Okay, when Dumbledore comes over to prepare the house, I'll bring it up with him."

"I'm still surprised he's using the bloody thing at all," Sirius grumbled, "after it failed so catastrophically last time around..."

"Did it truly?"

Sirius twitched, glanced over at Xeno. "What?"

"Did it fail? As you explained yourself, the Fidelius has exploitable weaknesses, especially to one so ruthless and devious as the Dark Lord. We must remember the prophecy our mutual friend was delivered — the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord could not well do so if they never came into contact."

"You think Albus set them up?" Sirius's voice was still rather flat, more thoughtful than anything, without the hard edge Dorea might expect if he was taking the idea seriously. Just curious what Xeno was thinking, she guessed.

"No, I'm not saying that, exactly — there are many things that may be said of Albus Dumbledore, but I don't believe he planned for Lily and James to die. I do suspect he ensured there would be a plausible means for the prophecy to be fulfilled, then stepped back and let events proceed as they will."

"...You know, you might have a point. I remember Lily complaining about it, thought something was up. She didn't like using the Fidelius in the first place, especially after Albus argued they couldn't be their own fidēlis — and then turned down the idea of Lily and Alice holding each other's Secrets. James talked Lily down, but the Longbottoms actually refused the Fidelius in the end, and stayed in their Manor instead."

Xeno nodded. "Well, there you go. He hardly offered them up to the Dark Lord on a silver platter, no, but he did design a vulnerability to exploit. And so, in moving Dumbledore's hand, Fate made a door."

While Sirius mulled over that thought — still seeming remarkably calm, considering Xeno was suggesting that Dumbledore had intentionally allowed the Potters to be killed — Dorea decided to jump in. "I'm sorry, did you say there was a prophecy? Really?"

"Yes, there was a prophecy," Sirius said. "It was a secret at the time, but it doesn't matter anymore — I suspect it was fulfilled on that Hallowe'en. Apparently Liz thinks so too, and she's the Seer in the room, so."

"Oh." When she thought about it, she guessed the Dark Lord getting blown up that night certainly did seem like the sort of thing there might be a prophecy about. It also explained a few hints she'd overheard over the years, yeah, that made sense. "If it was a secret, then...?

Xeno picked up on what Dorea was asking, shot her a wan little smile. "Lily told my Dora, and she told me." The gesture seemingly unconscious, his hand came up toward the flower earring, dropped to the table again before quite touching the painted ceramic — a gift from his wife, maybe? "For what it's worth, we also agree the prophecy pointed toward the events of that night. I don't suppose," he said, turning to Sirus, "that the old schemer has learned his lesson when it comes to allowing Fate to lead him around by the nose."

Sirius shook his head. "'Fraid not."

"A pity. Unsurprising, but a pity."

Breakfast ended not long after that — Xeno had some business today related to the publishing company the Lovegoods owned, he'd stayed about as long as he could get away with. Getting dressed to leave the house didn't make him look any less ridiculous, pulled over top an open robe with vertical stripes in orange and white, topped with a greenish felt cap with a big fluffy white feather sticking out of the brim sitting at a jaunty angle, absurd. Dorea tried to give them an illusion of privacy, turning to look away as they said goodbye at the hearth...though she didn't think anything happened that really needed privacy. There was some low muttering, quiet enough she didn't really hear, but she din't think there was any kissing or anything like that. Then there was a roar of flames, floo-green light flashing off the walls, and Xeno was gone.

"So, you and Xeno Lovegood."

"Me and Xeno Lovegood." Sirius came back around the table, plopped down into his chair and grabbed his cup of coffee. "Odd sort, but he's a good man. Not bad on the eyes, either."

Dorea very resolutely avoided remembering Xeno half-naked, but by the twitch at the corner of Sirius's lips she must be giving something away anyway. "Um...how did that happen? I didn't know you two even knew each other."

"Not very well, no — he was in Ravenclaw some years above us, I don't think we ever met until...Seventy-Nine or Eighty, I forget. I knew Pandora better, through the Order, only saw Xeno now and then. Luna sounds so much like her mother, I don't know how Xeno got through the last few years sober — if it were me, I would have been on something, if only to stop myself from bursting into tears every time that girl opens her mouth.

"Anyway, yeah, how'd it happen. I was catching up on the decade I missed, and I noticed that the Quibbler was arguing I was framed from day one. With a lot of the wild speculation Xeno finds so entertaining but, you know, it's the principle of the matter." One of the sources Sirius had consulted to catch up on what he'd missed while in Azkaban had been the Quibbler? Weird choice...but maybe just personal, since he had known Pandora — she'd been one of the regular writers. "So, I called him up to thank him, got reacquainted. One evening I was over at his, reminiscing over a bottle of apple whiskey, one thing led to another, and I woke up the next morning in his bed."

"So, it happened because you were both drunk." Not like Dorea could even say she was surprised, because—

Giving her a crooked, toothy smirk, Sirius drawled, "Some of my best mistakes were made when I was drunk."

Dorea rolled her eyes — yes, that, that was exactly what she'd been thinking of. "You're ridiculous, SIrius."

"And loving it. Gods forbid I grow up to become boring, I honestly think I might kill myself."

...She didn't think it was worth pointing out that he was in his thirties, so it was a little late to be concerned about how he might grow up. "Is it... I don't know, I know it's really not my business. Just, I noticed earlier, he gave Luna your floo password..."

"Luna still has a hard time of it — Xeno prefers that she always know where he is, in case she needs something."

"That makes sense, yes. I was only... Well, I guess I was wondering if it's...you know, serious?"

Sirius shrugged. "One day at a time. You know how it is."

"I don't know how it is, actually."

"Right, right," he said, his lips curling into a rueful little smile. "It's too early to say. For my part, I was never very good at serious — which is funny, you'd think I would be, but tragically our world is not shaped by wordplay alone. And Xeno... He's still hurting over Pandora — honestly, I suspect he always will be. Not that I can blame him, that woman was..." Sirius seemed to struggle for words for a couple seconds, and then just shrugged it off. "And he's never been with a man before. Well, incidentally, but never...as a regular thing, I suppose. So, it's complicated. One day at a time.

"I suppose I'm saying, don't expect to get a second stepfather anytime soon. Though I'm sure you'd make a lovely flower girl."

Dorea rolled her eyes. "I'm a little old for that now, Sirius." She actually did do that once, for Mum and Richard's wedding, she was sure he'd have been shown the pictures by now.

"In muggle weddings, maybe — in some magical traditions, the comparable role should be of marriageable age."

"Oh, I didn't know that. I honestly don't think I've ever been to a magical wedding before."

"It depends on who you ask, it varies. Anyway," he said, tone bright but also sharp, obviously meant to change the subject. "Did you have responsibilities today? or o you have time to kick around with your immature mess of a father?"

"No, my only business today was telling you about Grimmauld Place. Oh, and the first meeting should be this Thursday — slipped my mind, sorry." Xeno Lovegood could be kind of distracting...in multiple senses of the word, but she was still trying not to remember her father's boyfriend shirtless. Very awkward, for multiple reasons... "I didn't have to be anywhere, I told Mum I might not get home until late."

"Brilliant!" Sirius chirped breaking into a grin. "How about we start off walking around a muggle city somewhere, maybe dip in to catch a film..."

Chapter delayed a couple days, because FFN was being temperamental and wouldn't let me post. People who haven't already might consider moving on to AO3 lol