FicWad

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DISCLAIMER: The characters and settings herein are, for the most part, variously the property of JK Rowling or Neil Gaiman. I borrow out of love, and will put them back when finished.
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"Are we there yet?"

"I said before, Sirius. You'll know when we are."

"...One moment, isn't this the same route you used to get to Kilburn?"

"It is. Well spotted. But the turn for the Farms is a bit closer than that."

Regulus nodded. "I'd thought some of the scenery looked familiar."

Door led the two of them up a hill, around a bend, over a bridge forgotten by London Above sometime in the Middle Ages, and past a few fields that she thought were within the Farms' jurisdiction; either they had been traded off to someone else, or they were laying fallow this season.

Not long after that, they reached the active fields. Door started looking around for Chalky almost immediately, half listening as Sirius took a closer look at the chalk bushes and Regulus pointed out, "Well, they must call them the Chalk Farms for a /reason/."

"Well, yes, but I wasn't expecting--"

"Such literalism? Even after being kidnapped by a circus? Only you, Sirius."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Door, having located Chalky among the workers, attempted to wave off the argument without looking at them, accidentally catching one of them on the shoulder. "Sorry, but carry on later. I've found who we're looking for."

She tried to catch his attention with a wave; two or three other people noticed first, and eventually pointed Chalky over. He attempted to dust off his hands as he approached, though it did little good. Door had noticed after previous visits that the chalk dust had a way of lingering for about a week in the best case.

"Your ladyship," he said when he was close enough, his ever-present grin in place. "I got your pigeon the other day. Are these the upworlders you mentioned?"

"They are, yes. Sirius, at least, is looking to get back, and you know more about how wizards can function down here than I do."

"I see. How are we negotiating this?"

"Well. I understand you've been having ill luck negotiating trade through the Earl's train. I don't know how much I can promise, but I can try talking to him on the Farms' behalf."

"Oh, you can promise far more than you give yourself credit for, your ladyship." With that, Chalky turned to Sirius and Regulus and added, "So. What exactly do the two of you need, then?"

"I'm hoping not to need anything out of this," Regulus said. "But my brother is reckless enough to want to go home to a war effort--"

"Hey!"

"You know it as well as I do. Anyway, I've been here slightly longer, and noticed magic doesn't really work with any consistency."

After a moment, Chalky nodded. "You're looking for a point where he can take himself Topside, sounds like."

"Or something similar, yes."

"All right. The White Chapel ought to work, and as it happens, I can get you in there. It'll be about a week before I'll have the time, though."

*

"All right. We're here. Now what do we do?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Where are you getting 'we'? I've no plans to go anywhere."

Chalky shrugged. "Most other wizards who've gone this way have just... left. They seemed to know what they were doing. I've never asked."

"And there's no... door or anything?"

"Not that I've ever seen."

Sirius considered that for a few moments, then brightened. "Sounds like they Apparated, then. Well, that should be easy enough - I know where I want to be." He concentrated on getting to... well, he didn't really want to be at Grimmauld Place, but it seemed the safest bet under the circumstances...

And nothing happened.

"...Was something supposed to happen?" Chalky asked.

"Yes. I was supposed to stop being here and start being somewhere else."

"Oh, is that what they do? Odd, it usually works on the first try."

"Well, why didn't it work now?"

"I don't know. I don't even know how it works in the first place. Maybe both of you need to go."

Regulus looked like he'd been trying to avoid considering that idea. "...Oh no. /No/. I'd much rather stay here."

"You would? Why?"

"You may recall that I'm supposed to be hunted down and dead, Sirius. Staying here would be somewhat less dangerous for me."

"Well, you can't expect me to stay here just because of your self-preservation instinct."

"And why not? You're the one expecting me to leave thanks to your lack thereof. I think it quite the fair trade."

"You keep saying the Ministry needs saving from itself, and I'm probably not going to remember all of your talking points on that one. Besides, there's only so much I'll be able to do. How much are you going to be able to affect things from here?"

"You do me the great service of assuming any of your cohorts would actually give a former Death Eater the time of day. If they don't pay attention, I won't be able to do anything no matter how much I want to."

"But that's not the point," Sirius said, ignoring the fact that it very well could be valid. "You could still help. You know what might stand a chance of working and what definitely won't."

"To what point and purpose if another bunch of teenagers are going to run themselves off to the slaughter while the adults who could do anything effective just sit there?"

"No one said we were doing nothing. It's... there's a prophecy involved, all right? You know how those things go."

"I do indeed. Everyone who's probably not the prophecy's intended target stops trying to do anything about the situation at hand, which can't make it any easier for the person at the heart of it. Are you actually planning to break that trend if you get back?"

"As best I can. At the very least, I don't want Harry to have to face it alone. He's got little enough support as things stand."

"It happens, when you're too reckless for your own good. Tell me about this prophecy, then. Was it the real deal, or just some hack staring at their tea leaves and forecasting doom and gloom for all?"

"Real enough that Dumbledore was keeping it as secret as he could. I had to camp in his office for three days before he told me what it said. Has to do with whoever's going to take down Voldemort."

"Only three days? I'm impressed. Go on, then, what did it say?"

"...I don't remember, exactly. It's been some years. There was a lot of 'born as the seventh month dies,' I do remember that - that narrowed it down to Harry or Frank and Alice Longbottom's son. Other than that... fairly standard, as prophecies against overwhelming evil go. Power the Dark Lord knows not, marked as his equal, neither can live while the other survives, so on, so forth."

There was a tense pause as Regulus considered the information.

"...All right. I suppose it can't hurt to try talking some sense into the world's greatest hopes. But I warn you, I am dealing with Albus Dumbledore as little as I can possibly manage to."

Sirius blinked. "You'll go?"

"No, I just said that to make you feel better. Did it really sound that sarcastic to you? I must be out of practice. Where are you aiming for?"

*

"I must say, gentlemen, this is... rather surprising."

Regulus snorted, trying to contain his amusement at Albus Dumbledore being caught off guard. "You didn't really know where that veil went at all, did you?"

"Previous encounters with it had required me to make certain assumptions, I will admit."

"And it would have been so easy to ask someone who worked there to see the file on it. You've got enough clout to get away with that."

Sirius glared at him. "In any case, we're here now."

"So I see. And what does this mean for... other matters?"

"He's quite content to jump head-first back into your little war effort and keeping an eye on his godson," Regulus said. "I am officially not taking sides."

"You did once before."

"And that side thinks I'm long dead. I'm rather attached to my life, as it happens, and staying away from the Death Eaters strikes me as a good way to keep it, just now. I have no doubt Bella and her cohorts would more than gladly kill me 'again.'"

Dumbledore gave him what was probably meant to come off as a pitying look, but it got sidetracked, in Regulus' estimate, somewhere nearer condescending. "So you'll withhold your insider's knowledge from the resistance effort, then? It might bring an end to all of this sooner."

"It might, and I never said I wouldn't give information. If you think your Boy Wonder and his friends will even pay attention, that is. But I'm not fighting anyone, for reasons previously noted."

"There's no use trying to convince him," Sirius said. "I've already tried. Several times."

"Yes, thank you, Sirius. Is that all?"

"It will suffice for now, I think." Dumbledore stood, and headed for the door. "I will have to inform Harry of my... miscalculation."

"Do it sooner rather than later. From all I've heard the past couple of weeks, the kid's suffered more than enough."

"Quite."

After Dumbledore was gone, Sirius turned to look at Regulus.

"You've really changed your mind that much, have you?"

"I didn't subscribe to most of the hard line anyway - we've been over that. Besides... I've spent the past two months essentially surrounded by Muggles. Muggles who can open doors that were never meant to be there, Muggles who conduct negotiations with rats and pigeons, Muggles who can cause injury just by thinking about it, but the fact remains that it's not magic as we know it. The man who came up with the library's filing system did it all with mechanisms."

"And your point in this would be?"

"There's no sense in leaving most of the world to hang because one small corner of it is too stupid to clean up its own messes."

That seemed to satisfy his brother for now, which Regulus appreciated. His reasons for agreeing to come back were rather more complicated, but he only wanted to explain that once, if he could help it.

*

Two or three days after their discussion with Dumbledore, a snowy owl found its way to Twelve Grimmauld Place's kitchen. Regulus took a few moments from trying to sort out what was around to eat, untied the message from the owl's leg, and said, "I'm sure you can find a mouse around here somewhere."

When he could make neither heads nor tails of the address on the outside of the parchment, he set it on the table and went back to rummaging. Kreacher had yet to put in an appearance, which was quite all right with him.

Sirius stumbled in about ten minutes later. "'s there any tea on this spaceship?"

"...On what?"

"Never mind. 's from a book." He sat down at the table, and then appeared to finally notice the post. "When did this get here?"

"Just a bit ago. Dare I ask who's been calling you 'Snuffles'?"

"...What kind of owl brought it?"

"Snowy."

"Oh, good, he did tell Harry."

"If that's your godson's idea of discreet postal service, someone might want to talk him into using another owl, at least for the deathly important. That one's too conspicuous to survive long." Regulus turned away from the pantry excavation and added, "Will you still be needing that tea?"

"Maybe in a bit. Let's see how far nervous energy gets me first... Well, he did learn one thing. He wants to make sure it's actually me."

"He's not just taking Dumbledore's word for it? I'm impressed. There may be hope for the boy yet."

"You would say that. Well, I can't leave the boy waiting for a reply, he'd never get anything done. You want to send anything along?"

"No, odds are he'll meet me soon enough. He can form his opinion then, if he hasn't already."

*

"We've got company."

"What makes you say that?"

"Mother's shouting again. Do you want to deal with it, or shall I?"

"I will. It'll give me something to do." With that, Sirius got up and headed up the back stairs and toward the entrance.

"Blood traitors and monsters sullying the house of my fathers--"

"Oh, do shut up, Mother!" He closed the portrait's drapery with a wave of his wand, and then grew still as what it had been shouting had a chance to sink in. "...She only ever gets so far as 'monsters' with one person."

"And the beginning of your break from her doctrine was when you saw the person despite the monster." Remus, apparently deciding it was safe to move, stepped out of the shadows by the front door. "I thought I'd be best served to see for myself whether the rumors were true."

"You would... oh, Merlin, Moony, you look like hell warmed over."

"I thought you were used to that by now."

"More than usual, I meant. I... I'm sorry. Disappearing like that can't have helped."

"Sirius, don't worry about it. I survived."

"Who told you I was back, anyway? Dumbledore or Harry?"

"Both, actually, in that order." Remus hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Dumbledore also... said something about your brother being back as well."

"Oh, he is. Just as sarcastic as ever, but... he's drifted from the family doctrine as well. Not to what we'd call Order-joining proportions, but he's also not running back to where he was."

"Well, both of those make some sense, for him. Why let on he's not dead before he has to?"

"That's what he said." Well, it was only part of it, but Sirius knew his brother and Remus would never see eye to eye on Dumbledore's trustworthiness. "Oh, and he worked out your condition back in school, apparently. I think he would have said something then if he'd meant to, but... well, I thought you should know."

"Good to know he won't stir up a fuss now, at least."

"Yeah. Look, if you ever need somewhere to stay, well, as far as I'm concerned, there's always a place for you here. Or, well, wherever I end up, really. Once things calm down I probably won't stay here very long, but--"

"Calm down, Sirius, I understand. That and if you keep getting louder, you'll start your mother shouting again."

"...Good point."

"Now get over here so I can hug you properly, will you?"

And for the moment, at least, all was right with the world.

*

The Christmas gathering was hosted by the Weasleys. Regulus, partly forced along by Sirius and partly going because he had nothing better to do, wasn't quite sure how such a haphazard pile of housing materials had survived this long, but anything that had weathered seven lively children would probably make it through a comparatively light social event intact.

Besides, that meant the living room had several convenient corners in which he could avoid everyone else and watch the proceedings. That was entertainment enough to last him all week, especially when his brother found out one of the other guests had helped himself to some Black family heirlooms in everyone else's absence ("Look, it may be valuable junk I don't want, but it's my valuable junk to get rid of! ...Or, well, it was Harry's at the time, but the point stands. Couldn't you have asked him first?").

Not long after the haranguing moved away, a blonde girl who looked about Harry's age approached the corner Regulus had most recently claimed. There wasn't anything of note on the wall behind him, so he had to assume she was looking for conversation.

"Yes?"

She considered him a moment or two longer before saying, "So are you Stubby Boardman, then?"

"...What?"

"I'll take that as a no, then. Pity. Only someone told Daddy's paper that Stubby Boardman was actually Sirius Black, but he denied that himself earlier. I thought maybe someone else in the family had used the name, but if you didn't either, that rather limits the possibilities."

"I should hope so. That sounds like a name Mother would blast the user off the tapestry over, were she still around to care."

The girl shrugged. "It was worth a try. Where were you hiding, to reappear so suddenly, anyway?"

"I don't know that you'd believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I'll believe almost anything until there's proof to the contrary. I'm Luna, by the way. Luna Lovegood. Daddy edits the /Quibbler/."

"I've not heard of it, but I did miss quite a bit, all told."

Before long, Regulus found himself telling her the whole story about London Below; Luna, true to her word, was utterly fascinated. She struck him as a refreshingly sensible girl, if in a roundabout way.

"Oh, that would keep the paper occupied for weeks! I don't know that anyone would believe it - it's got a reputation for printing crackpot theories, especially after printing all those hypotheses on what caused all the commotion back in August, but Daddy does try to get real news in there as well."

"And there's probably more real news in it on a daily basis than the /Prophet/, though that's not hard. ...Wait, commotion in August?"

"Oh, yes. Rains of fish, Tibetan monks digging tunnels all over the world for reasons even they couldn't fathom, all sorts of odd things. One of the Muggle motorways got both far too hot and far too cold for anyone to cross it - London was completely stopped up."

This was ringing a few bells that Regulus hadn't paid much mind since he left school. "What year is it?"

"1996. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Just... something Professor Device mentioned now and then."

"Who?"

"He taught Divination when I was at Hogwarts. He put a lot of emphasis on interpretation - that sort of runs in his family."

They talked a while longer, and then Luna wandered off to find the other teenagers. Regulus found it something of a relief to know at least one of those kids wasn't afraid to put her mind to good use.

*

After deflecting Luna's questions about possible pseudonyms - she seemed like a nice enough girl, but really, some of her ideas werre just mad - Sirius decided it was time to get some answers to a question he'd had on his mind since he first caught sight of Dora, just before dinner. He headed over to the sofa she was sitting on, sat down next to her, and said, "So. What's wrong?"

"...Oh, nothing." She smiled, but it looked like she was forcing the reaction. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back, believe me, but this is about you. You look more like your mother than I've ever known you to prefer. What's got you too down to do anything about that?"

"It's complicated. I think some of it's just... this wasn't what I was expecting from law enforcement, considering we weren't supposed to have evil-overlord sort of problems anymore when I left Hogwarts. And even when it did pick up, I kind of thought it'd be easier to finish off than it has been."

"Oh, didn't we all. First time it happened, I was sure it'd be over by Christmas, pretty much up to Christmas Eve."

"And then it wasn't?"

"Exactly. But you say that's only part of your problem?"

Dora shifted a bit, looking at her knees. "I... there's a bloke."

"And you haven't said anything to him because..."

"Well, at first, I didn't have the first clue where to start. He's more used to me as a colleague, sort of. And now, I don't expect I have much of a chance at all - I mean, I can't exactly hope to take him away from you."

Sirius almost asked what she meant before it sank in. "...Oh, Dora."

"I'm not going to do anything, I /promise/, I just--"

"Relax. I wasn't accusing you of anything. Knowing you, it's nothing but good intentions that got you into this mess in the first place."

"Something like that. It's just... he always looks so sad. A little better now you're back, but, well, the fact that I noticed that change probably says something, doesn't it? And I thought maybe I could help him be happy."

"Dora, look at me. Moony is a tough nut to crack in the best case. He's so used to having to fend for himself that it surprises him enough when people just want to be his /friend/, never mind get more involved than that. And he's lost so many people that it's only got to be getting harder for him."

"He lost you twice."

"And he's calling getting me back twice a miracle. I'd say that's not far from the truth. Anyway, if you want to see him happy, just be his friend. Merlin knows he could do with more of those."

"You think it's that simple?"

"I know him better than anyone, remember."

"Good point." Dora smiled again, a bit more convincingly this time. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear that."

"That's what family's for. When it's not horribly dysfunctional, anyway."

By the time she went home, the tips of Dora's hair were pink again. It was still a far cry from her usual, but Sirius was willing to call it a small victory.

*

"Those kids need help."

Sirius turned to look at his brother. "What makes you say that?"

"Watch them interact for five or ten minutes at a time and tell me you don't see it."

"I've done that for a couple of years now. Harry's done quite well, considering he got offloaded on Lily's odious sister and brother-in-law."

"Tell me, do you know if anyone took him to St. Mungo's after his parents were killed?"

"...I don't remember hearing anything about it. Admittedly, I was a bit distracted at the time. Why do you ask?"

"Because that scar on his forehead isn't natural, and it would be silly of anyone to assume an infant survived a magical attempt on his life without some kind of lasting effects. Someone might have thought to check him for brain damage, but I suppose that would have made sense."

"For all I know, Dumbledore took care--"

Regulus snorted. "Please. If Dumbledore were capable of doing the sensible thing, he would have taken care of the Dark Lord well before anyone went round making prophecies about the matter."

"Even so. Someone might have had him looked at. I wouldn't know, though."

"Not to mention that after that, he spent years with relatives who weren't best pleased to have him around, from your description. And then he came here and started playing Quidditch, the sport of major personal injury, to say nothing of the potential for being knocked about the head in everyday inter-house exchanges. Between that and the number of times he's rushed off to deal with the Dark Lord--"

"Look, he's survived four times since he started school--"

"Which only tells me he wasn't smart enough to learn from the first one, nor were his friends smart enough to stop him. In fact... did they help?"

"Of course they did. Ron beat the wizards' chess game in the way of the Philosopher's Stone. I've heard the whole story several times by now."

"Naturally. Give your strategist a solid knock to the head before you're all old enough to need and appreciate a good strategy. That's always ended well in the past. I don't see what's stopping it working now. And the girl?"

"Hermione? She's bloody /brilliant/. Probably could have left school by now if she'd really wanted to."

Regulus sighed. "What I meant was, does she ever stop working?"

"...Now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure."

"If she doesn't, she going to overtax herself permanently. She might already have done, for all anyone knows. Quite the triumvirate we're discussing, really. Remind me why I left London Below if these three are meant to save the day?"

"Because they might have a better chance of doing the job if they have insider knowledge?"

"They might. Or they might just get themselves killed more quickly."

Sirius sighed. This was going to be a long discussion.