"You know he only put himself on my team because he's keeping an eye on me, yeah?" Edgar Bones sounded tired as he dropped himself into the bar seat at the Grindyswallow Pub.

"He's keeping an eye on all three of us, I reckon," Gideon murmured darkly. Then, "At least you're not saddled with Dumbledore! Nanming me the leader on the job is a rouse - we all know Albus probably already has every detail planned and mapped out. The question is whether he'll tell me of whatever he's got planned or if he'll simply orchestrate it behind my back."

Edgar and Gideon both looked at Fabian.

"What?" Fabian asked, shrugging, "I won the jackpock, honestly. Retired head of the department, current deputy headmistress, advanced auror in training and his motivational support witch, an unhinged chaotic genius, and Remus bleedin' Lupin."

"Bugger you really did win the pot, didn't you?" Gideon looked jealous. "I mean I had and then lost the Potters on my team and what did I get to supplement? The promise that Dumbledore's as good as two men!"

"You do have the Scamanders, though," Edgar pointed out. "And all Newt's beasts."

"Because a Niffler's a right help in taking out a house full of Death Eaters if mine happens to be the one that they're actually at!" Gideon shook his head.

Edgar said, "Alright but name one redeeming quality about my bunch, will you? One of mine didn't even finish Hogwarts!"

"Hey that's not very polite," came a voice to the left and they all three turned to find Sirius Black had pulled up a chair without any prelude or instruction.

"You're part of my jackpot win," Fabian said.

"Excellent." Sirius sat down and looked between the three aurors. "So... I have to ask because this is what I do and it's what's been on my mind since Moody first started talking about this..." he paused, trying to determine how best to word what he needed to ask, then finally decided to point-blank it. "You lot checked in at my mum real good, yeah? I mean, you know she wasn't... wasn't lying to you? Setting us up?"

Gideon and Fabian looked at Edgar, so Sirius did, too.

Edgar said, "Yeah, I vetted her."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I did. Are you questioning my abilities to do my job, then?" Edgar snapped.

Sirius said, "More like questioning whether my dear Mother is capable of even accidentally or forcefully doing something good for a change."

Edgar shrugged, "She was very compliant. She offered information freely, too. She had heard about what happened to your brother, and she was willing to give anything to help us. The veritaserum was her idea. Said she knew we needed to know it was true coming from her."

Sirius frowned.

Edgar said, "She asked about you."

Sirius stiffened. "And? What did you tell her?"

"That you were doing alright," Edgar answered, "But that you likely wouldn't want to see her."

"Yeah like hell I would."

"Bringing you to Azkaban would be quite inappropriate anyway," Edgar said. "You don't belong in a place like that."

Sirius flipped his hair, "I'm far too gorgeous." He got up, pushing the chair he'd pulled up back where it belonged. "So when is this all going down?"

"We should have the warrants soon," Fabian said.

"And surely any information we have shall be utterly outdated by then," muttered Gideon.

Sirius said, "Well. You know. We could just --"

"No." Edgar interrupted before Sirius could even finish the thought. "I've been in enough rubbish trouble with Moody without making it worse and defying his direct orders again. We're following his protocol and if it messes us up then so be it, it's on him."

Gideon shrugged. "That's all well and fine so long as it doesn't get anyone else killed."

Sirius took a deep breath, "Well. Keep the rest of us in the loop about what's on and we'll be ready when you lot are." He saluted and turned away, headed back across the Grindyswallow to where GIdeon and Fabian could see Bilius Weasley, singing a drinking song with a crowd of guys in work jumpsuits like the one Sirius wore, steins raised to the sky. Sirius joined up with Bil and melted into the song with ease, taking the stein from Bil's hand and downing it in a single go.

"Did she really ask about him?" Fabian asked, looking at Edgar.

"No," Edgar said, turning away. "Not directly." He looked away from Sirius, leaning back in the booth seat and rubbing his eyes. "But I wasn't about to tell him that."

"Not directly?" Gideon prodded.

"She hadn't been told about Regulus Black' passing before I got there," he explained. "I had the... very unfortunate experience of telling her that her son was dead."

Fabian and Gideon exchanged glances.

"And?" Gideon asked.

"She thought I meant Sirius."

Fabian made a face.

"She reacted with a strange detachment. Asked how it happened and that's when she realized I meant Regulus... and she completely lost her mind."

Gideon sighed. "Hate it when parents play favorites."

"What are you on about, you've always been mummy's favorite," Fabian joked. "When she can tell us apart, that is."

Gideon said, "She always wanted a son like you!"

Fabian grinned, "After the disappointment of me, she was pleased to have you pop out I'm sure."

"If I break one, I've got a replacement," Gideon quipped.

Edgar stared at them, "You're both sick bastards."

"No we're not," both twins answered at the same time.

Edgar shook his head.

James had rented an apartment overlooking the Passage de la Sorcieère, which was over a little cafe in Montmatre, overlooking a small gated square that belonged to the hotel below the apartment. The neighborhood was high on the hill, with bricked streets, and the apartment's balcony afforded a far-off view of the Tower peeking over the townhouses. The building had once belonged to a witch who had eventually used the lower portion as a proper hotel for muggles, reserving the penthouse and upper apartments for wizards. Their luggage was already at the apartment by the time they'd got there - this had been part of what had taken James so long getting ready that morning, he'd moved their things by disapparation with the help from the hotel's own bus boy service.

The cherry-wood paneling was red and warm giving the room a small comfiness that was only made more inviting by wide windows and interesting accents - for instance, the ceiling was covered with square porcelain tiles, painted with black floral accents. The wall opposite from the bed seemed farther off than it was, an illusion created by a wide, ornate mirror that stretched the full width of the apartment, and beautiful round accent lamps that hung from sconces. The bed was twice as wide as the one James and Lily had at home and James wasted no time rolling about on it with his limbs spread out like a starfish. "This is marvelous," he announced, sinking into the blankets.

Lily laughed, "You look like you might get lost in the depths of that thing."

"I feel like I could."

"Well don't go falling asleep or anything! It's our first day here, we don't need to be wasting it in bed."

"Wasting it in bed, you say?" he said, pouting. "Would it really be a waste, you reckon?"

Lily laughed and leaned over the side of the bed, her head upside down to his, and hissed his forehead, her hair falling 'round the side of his head, "Maybe not a complete waste."

"It's alright, Evans," James murmured, "I know when I'm not wanted. I'll just cry in French... Le tears..."

"I don't think that's correct," she giggled.

James smiled.

Lily turned and looked around, coming back a moment later, "There's a jacuzzi style tub in that bathroom."

"Brilliant!"

"And the soaps are shaped like seashells."

"Why?"

"Because they are fancy and they are French."

James had a feeling he would be hearing a lot of justifications of that sort during the next two weeks.

Their host had left a bowl of lemons with sprigs of lavender, and a loaf of bread along with a card on the table, welcoming them to Paris. Lily took up one of the lemons and lavender sprigs and held them to her nose, smelling the sharp citrus scent mixed with the sweet purple of the lavender. "Oh, does it get more french?" she asked, holding both out to James to smell.

He leaned over and sniffed, "Very nice," he said.

Lily put them back into the bowl and went to open curtains in the windows, looking out at the pinnicle of the Eiffle Tower and the smoke coming up from the chimney pipes on the rooftops, pumping dark against the rain.

The apartment had a balcony and James stepped out onto it and cast some spells to make the little space impervious to the rain and warmed it up so they could use it as comfortably as a Spring day. Lily set the bowl of lemons and lavender on the table there and they brewed hot coffee and sat together, two chairs pulled on one side of the table, facing the Tower, looking through a guidebook and making plans for their time.

It was comfortable and relaxing, and oddy homey, despite being a country apart. Lily leaned across her chair sideways so she was using James's side as her seatback instead of the chair itself and James put an arm 'round behind her, one foot on the balcony rail and one extended out in front of him.

When they'd relaxed enough and marked quite a few more pages from the guidebook, they decided to go for a walk and get a late lunch before venturing to see their first glimpse of the Eiffle Tower up close. Everything was still so new and exciting, and Lily looked forward to seeing and experiencing it all.

There was a bakery across the street of the front side of the building, and a shop with all sorts of lovely kitchen wares next door to it. Lily was looking forward to visiting the little shop and the bakery and all the myriad of tiny cafes they'd passed on their way to the Passage.

The square, Place du Tertre, was small and enclosed in more of the storybook buildings Lily had always imagined Paris having. There were trees, whose trunks and branches were dark against the gray skies. The rain had stopped coming down, but the ground was wet and the dark stones reflected like glass. She practically danced through the square, her long blue rain jacket flying out with the skirts of the dress she had changed into, which was white with blue flowers. Her laughter rang through the square and James followed after her as she led him to the little shop, taking his band and pulling him along.

The shop had loads of beautiful dishes and pie birds and tea sets and heavy butter and cream dishes. She found a tea kettle shaped like a rooster and a lovely set of heavy wood spoons made from cherry wood the precise shade of the paneling in their apartment. She got those for the house in Godric's Hollow and bought a pair of salt and pepper shakers shaped like little can-can dancers that reminded her of something Ali would like.

Another shop carried postcards and James grabbed a good deal of those to send to Sirius, at least forty cards. "We're only here two weeks - and part of it, he will be with us for the Queen show!" Lily reminded him as he rifled through the stack of cards.  "When will you have enough time to write all those to him?"

"Just picture him freaking out over the absolute madness of all these owls descending upon him at once!" James grinned.

They got their late lunch and started making their way down from Montmatre toward the lower city and the Tower, slipping in and out of small shops and pausing to look at carts where artists sold paintings and florists had flowers for sale in bouquets. One peddler gave Lily a bright red carnation.

"Rouge comme tes cheveux!" he said.

Finally after a good deal of walking, they came to the Champ de Mars and were walking in the very shadow of the tower itself. "They call her the Iron Lady and she was made by the same firm which  made the Statue of Liberty that was sent to America," Lily informed James.

"That's pretty cool," he said, staring up at the tower.

"I read once also that during the second world war waged by muggles that Adolf Hitler ordered the tower be destroyed but the Nazi soldiers didn't follow through. When they took over the tower, the French soldiers cut the elevator cords to spite them and they had to climb all those stairs to the top on foot if they wanted to fly the swatstika. 1710 steps."

"That's a lot of stairs."

"The French soldiers didn't want to make it easy to take la tour Eiffle," Lily said.

James laughed, "It honestly sounds like something Sirius would do."

Lily laughed, "It truly does. Maybe he's related to the wizard who did it. They fixed it an hour after France regained independence."

"I'd bet a thousand galleons he was related," James snorted.