Sirius Black had been going to the market in Colchester ever since his mother, Viscountess Walburga, had died, and he was free to pursue his passions of tinkering. Sirius had always been the black sheep of the family, something that amused his younger brother and only sibling, Regulus, to no end. It hadn't been until he'd attended Hogwarts at the age of eleven, and had sorted Gryffindor, that things began to look up, as he met James Potter and Remus Lupin rather quickly, and the three had become fast friends. The sorting, however, had come as a devastating blow to his mother and father, as no Black had ever sorted Gryffindor, and they'd always been a family of Slytherins. Nevertheless, Sirius would survive them all, and seize control of the viscount title and the property at Grimmauld Place, utilizing Kreacher as the family house-elf, and the antiquated being took quite some time to warm up to him.

As Sirius watched all the buyers setting up shop in their individual booths around him, he smiled and spoke to them. There was a system at the Colchester market, where important Wizarding families could buy swatches of space to set up their magicked booths. Sirius was always placed between the same two families—the Prewett's and the Fawley's—who were terribly good people and always had something pleasant to say. The Prewett's specialized in home-grown wizarding fruits and vegetables, and their Dirigible Plums were reportedly out of this world. The Fawley's, by contrast, brewed their own magical medicines, and sold a new book with the latest recipes and experiments of their work each year.

Sirius adored speaking to both families; despite their shared Pureblood status, they never had a bad thing to say or a complaint about Half-Bloods, Muggleborns, Squibs, or Muggles. It was quite refreshing, for in Wizarding London, the politics had been forever tainted by Sirius's own cousin-in-law Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was as slimy and slippery as they came, and would constantly whisper a bit of poison in former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge's ear. Sirius was one of many families who were thankful that, by the time re-election came about, Fudge was voted out, and replaced with the more forthright Amelia Bones.

"How are Addison and Melody doing, Grim?" Sirius asked, smiling at the patriarch of the family, who was admiring his wife stacking the books up accordingly.

"She does it so much better than I do, my Penelope does," Grim said by way of explanation. "As for our girls, they're quite well. They miss their cousin, Sullivan, desperately, but he's a sixth-year this year, and can't come to the house as often."

Sirius nodded, knowing that Grim and Penelope had taken custody of their nephew, since Sullivan's father, Elwin, had died under mysterious circumstances. "How much longer until Addison goes to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Two years, and she's quite put out that she won't be there when Sullivan is," Grim joked a little then, "but Sullivan wants to work for the ministry."

"I'm sure Addison will do quite well at Hogwarts, when the time comes."

Grim nodded, and Penelope flashed him a smile as she dove into a box and levitated more books out to display on their shelf and counter space. "Melody is worse," the man continued. "She's got four years, but every time September comes, she begs me to write to the minister and ask if she can attend Hogwarts early."

"Eager, that one," Sirius put in.

"Doesn't surprise me in the least," Penelope said, straightening her blonde plait as she continued levitating books onto their available surfaces. "My girls absolutely love anything and everything about learning new things. Nothing will stop them..." She trailed off, and finally levitated a specially bound book over to Sirius. "From our family to yours, like always."

Sirius smiled, taking the book and shrinking it down before slipping it into his saddle bag. "And I've a gift for your girls, as always," he said, dipping into another compartment of the bag, and bringing out two beautiful boxes. "Tap them once to unshrink them," he explained, and floated them over towards the Fawley's.

"Oh, Sirius, they're beautiful," Penelope cooed, as Grim promptly tapped his wand gently upon their surfaces, and they each grew about two inches across.

"Music boxes," Grim said, clearly touched, as he caressed the expertly carved names of his two daughters upon the surface.

Sirius nodded. "Penelope mentioned last year how much the girls loved the one I commissioned for your family, so I believed that the two of them should have one of their own."

"What music did you use, Sirius?" Penelope asked, looking up.

"Vivaldi's Gloria for Addison, and Bach's Arioso for Melody," Sirius said. "Two beautiful pieces for two beautiful girls."

Penelope painstakingly shrunk down the music boxes and clutched them briefly to her chest, before putting a Cushioning Charm onto the pair of them and settled them inside her own set of saddlebags. "You are a generous man, Sirius Black."

Sirius smiled and bowed to her. "Thank you, Lady Fawley," he replied formally.

"And how is young Harry, Sirius?" Grim asked; ever since Sirius had taken Harry into his care, Harry and Sirius always attended various summer or Christmas gatherings at Fawley Farm, the Fawley estate, in Exeter.

"Harry is well, thank you, Grim," Sirius told him. "He's still unsure what he wants to do with his life, but I'm confident that, if I don't sit on him about it, he will come to a decision that won't be met with controversy from any party."

"I had heard that he was due back at Hogwarts," Penelope said, straightening out a stack of tomes that had proved to be a bit wayward when it came to organizing. "Dolores Umbridge—never liked the woman myself, but she always likes to have a gossip whenever we pass one another—said that he was going to meet Albus and Gellert for tea."

"Yes," Sirius replied, "Albus has always been as a grandfather to Harry, as has Gellert. There was even talk of Gellert wanted to take Harry on as his apprentice, come graduation, but Harry declined the offer."

Grim blinked. "It's a worthy position, Sirius, and Merlin knows that Harry's Defense scores on both his OWLs and his NEWTs were rumored to be the best since Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin took the course for themselves as adults, when putting together the curriculum..."

"Harry seems to want a different position altogether, but he's not informed me of what," Sirius told the man quietly. "I've told him more than once that I would happily support him being a man of leisure, and Merlin knows that he would need to either oversee or sell off the land left to him by Lily and James at their various properties throughout England, Scotland, Ireland, and the rest of Europe..."

Penelope smiled in a considerate manner towards Sirius. "I am quite positive that Harry will be happy when he reaches his decision, Severus. My own sister, Minerva—half-sister, you understand, as I was from our mother's second marriage, after she was widowed, and went on to marry a wizard, thus producing me—works for a rather elusive character."

"You've mentioned the earl to me," Sirius replied with a nod. "Does she really not have any information on her own employer?"

"It isn't that, Sirius," Penelope said. "It's that the earl makes his employees adhere to strict rules about what they can and cannot reveal about their positions. She's his housekeeper, that I know, and, in case of an emergency of some kind, I know the home is located in Essex. She has an emergency Portkey to come to Fawley Farm if she ever has need of it, but she hasn't utilized it as far as I'm aware."

"I remember Minerva from one of your gatherings," Sirius said. "An uptight, stern and strict woman, if I remember correctly."

Penelope sighed. "Unfortunately, that's true," she said.

Grim put an arm around his wife's waist. "Minerva hasn't been the same since her husband, Elphinstone, died over a decade ago," he said quietly.

"Robert and Malcolm, her brothers, and Minerva were all so much older than me," Penelope explained, wringing her hands upon her apron. "The three of them, plus our mother, were so distraught when her husband died, that she seemed to waste away for a time. However, when she met my father, Clifton Sterling, met her at a wizarding convention in France, about a dozen and a half years after her husband had died. Minerva, by this time, was already working for the Ministry of Magic, which she did before entering into the earl's service. She, Robert, and Malcolm were dead-set against their mother finding happiness again, especially after the quick engagement and hasty marriage, which was only rushed because our mother was already pregnant with me."

"Three months," Grim put in. "They'd known one another three months, and already Penelope was on her journey into existence."

"Mother died just six days after my birth, and my brothers resented my birth so much that they never so much as spoke to me," Penelope said, lowering her eyes. "Minerva came around, when I wrote to her, telling her that I'd met Grim, and we were to be married. When Addison was born, we were close that I named my firstborn after her—Addison Minerva Fawley. She's just wonderful with the girls, and is civil to both me and to Grim, but I have it on good authority that she's much closer to Robert, Malcolm, and their children. No built-up resentment on either end, you know?"

Sirius nodded, thinking of all the resentment within the Black family, which both Grim and Penelope were well-aware of. "Oh, I know, Penelope," he said softly. "I know all too well where built-up resentment comes from. Truly I do."

~*~

Sirius left the market at the end of the week, slightly discouraged that none of the booths that year were selling flowers. Determined to keep his promise to Harry, he decided to make a stop in Diagon Alley before his ultimate arrival at Grimmauld Place, knowing quite well that the flower sellers would have some lilies for Harry, which would be just as beautiful. Sirius bid farewell to the Fawley family and hitched up Buckbeak to the cart, after he had gathered his belongings, plus the compass that he'd created just prior to leaving Grimmauld, knowing that he should give it to Harry, and not sell it.

Buckbeak traveled steadily out of the Colchester market, and Sirius charismatically tipped his hat to all the ladies who passed by, and bowed to the gentlemen. He kept a good hold upon Buckbeak, knowing that, if push came to shove, he could easily shrink his belongings and fly the hippogriff home, but they had gone through Epping Forest on the Sacred Wizard's Path for so many years prior to this, that he knew that his familiar knew which way to go. However, as they traveled hour after hour through the woods, the fog and the mist seemed to be growing thicker around them, and Sirius grew concerned that they had made a wrong turn somewhere, as nothing seemed to look familiar any longer.

Sirius's breaths made sizeable clouds in the air around him, and the only things that could be heard were Buckbeak clopping along the forest floor, Sirius's breathing, and the faraway hoot of various owls, flying overhead. The sky continued to darken around them, and Sirius kept ahold of the reins, knowing that Buckbeak could potentially spook if something, or someone, untoward crossed paths with them. The Gryffindor man swallowed, heart pounding in his chest, and neither he nor the hippogriff saw the oversized tree root just ahead of them, it was so dark, and Sirius had not yet taken his wand out from his robes to cast a Lumos.

Just as Buckbeak stumbled, there were various howls, suddenly upon them, and Buckbeak startled completely, trying to get over the tree root as quickly as possible. Because of that, the cart jostled, and Sirius went flying out of it, only managing to grab the saddle bag with the compass and the book from the Fawley family inside of it. Looking up through his dark hair, he watched as a pack of werewolves ran after the cart, and Buckbeak disappeared down the trail and into the darkness ahead.

"Greyback," Sirius whispered, his canine senses coming out to play, as he remembered the werewolf man that kept company with his deranged cousin, Bellatrix. Managing to shove himself to his feet, Sirius deduced that he was sore and bruised, but not seriously injured. After making sure that his wand was still in his robe pocket, and that the Cushioning Charms placed upon the compass and the large tome had survived the fall, Sirius grabbed his robe more closely around him, knowing that he couldn't stay in the woods that night, for winter was less than a month away and, due to the werewolves lurking nearby, it was dangerous.

Swallowing, Sirius stumbled forward, his puffs of breath still making clouds in the darkening air, and he walked the path that Buckbeak had gone, wondering what he might find. Within a dozen or so paces, he came to a grove of trees, which ultimately led to a clearing and, at the end of it, a mighty black iron gate. Perplexed, as Sirius was unaware of such a house, he reasoned that it was because he was so horribly lost in the first place that he was unable to know of its whereabouts or its existence beforehand. Shaking his head, Sirius stepped forward, knowing that whatever lay beyond the gates would be his only salvation, as it was quite late, drew out his wand, hoping beyond hope that a Standard Unlocking Spell would do the trick.

"Alohomora," Sirius whispered. He felt immediate relief when something from within the gates clicked, and the opened inward, thus permitting the man to step through. Sirius immediately stepped forward, returning his wand into his pocket, and dragged his bag upwards upon his shoulder as he moved through the darkness. He felt the change of ground surface, and discovered that he was now walking upon hard stone as he stepped into whatever the area was and, just beyond the mist, saw a grand old house. "Merlin," Sirius whispered, amazed to see such richness laid out before him.

It was a gothic structure, clearly, with numerous archways at the portion of the house Sirius was standing at, with a long gallery leading both ways, and a broad door in the center. Sirius went towards the door and immediately raised his hand to knock, but the door seemed to open automatically, and he immediately went inside. It was considerably dark within the place, and large, due to the massive echo the door made when it shut behind him. Old oil paintings of the Tudor style with beautiful brush work and impressive frames littered the walls, while the highly-polished wood floor was covered in the most expensive Turkish rug Sirius had ever seen. There was a decorative candelabra, placed upon a bolt of Belgian lace, on the side table, and the piece was lit, so Sirius, again, not considering his wand, made a grab for it and held it aloft.

There was a chandelier—made of expensive diamonds, crystal, and wrought with gold—perched in the center of the ceiling of the entrance hall, and, as Sirius dragged the candelabra back and forth, he saw a massive sweeping staircase beyond, along with doors on the upper floor. Upon the floor he currently stood in, he saw a hallway to the left, a corridor to the right, and other doors on either side of the staircase. He stepped forward then, and the floor quickly squeaked below his traveling boot.

"Hello?" he whispered into the darkness.

"I don't like it, Mr. Weasley," came the strict voice of Minerva McGonagall, and Sirius was floored that this was her place of employment.

"The wards went off because a magical being is here, ma'am," came the reply of Harry's dearest friend, Ron Weasley. "I think we should go and see what they need."

"The master will not like it," Minerva replied, her voice attempting to chastise the boy. "If he finds out that we willingly let someone in..."

There was a disdainful huff then, one which Sirius instantly recognized as belonging to Hermione Granger, Ron's fiancée and Harry's other dear friend. "Hardly willing," she replied, as she had always been a stickler for the rules. "The wards accepted him automatically, as he was either in peril, had the magic to do so, or is a kinsmen of the master," she said, obviously having taken the rules and regulations of her position quite seriously. "We can simply Obliviate him if they truly don't belong here, ma'am."

"And what of the ministry, Miss Granger?" Minerva questioned the girl.

"They hardly know that the master is in the position he is," Hermione said, obviously reminding her of something. "They believe the family to be extinct, as opposed to extant. While we cannot say for certain what will happen if we attempt to Obliviate the person—should they retaliate—I firmly believe that seeking out their identity beforehand is a must, ma'am."

Minerva sighed, obviously reluctant. "You two go," she said. "I have to finish the master's dinner, for you know full well that he hates things not going according to his very own personal schedule."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Ron, and suddenly he appeared from an inner door close to the staircase, towing Hermione behind him. "Sirius?!" he demanded, squinting in the darkness. "Is that you over there?!"

"Oh, Sirius!" Hermione cried out then, rushing forward, and throwing herself into the man's arms, and kissing him on the cheek. "Oh!" she squeaked, pulling back then, and shaking her head with disdain. "You'll catch your death..." Tutting to herself, she drew out her wand and waved it in a rather complex manner, causing a burst of hot air to ambush Sirius, thus rendering him the perfect temperature.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said gratefully.

"How did you find the place?" Ron asked, immediately moving to take Sirius's bag. He drew him deeper into the house, out the door they had come, and into a small seating area, one that Sirius deduced was where the servants would eat.

"I was coming back from the market in Colchester, as I always do this time of year," Sirius replied, smiling gratefully at Hermione as she took off his outer robes and hung them up upon a peg nailed to the wall close by. "I missed the turn to take me directly through to London, it seems, and it suddenly got cold and dark. I thought for sure that Dementors were upon me," he admitted, shuddering.

"Wouldn't doubt it," Ron muttered, disappearing through an inner door.

Sirius immediately turned to Hermione. "What is he speaking of?"

Hermione sighed, her brown eyes sad. "One of the requirements for taking a position working for the earl is the ability to cast a Patronus Charm," she informed the man. "He has Dementors guarding various locations throughout his expansive property. You're quite lucky that you didn't encounter any," she told him.

Sirius nodded. "Yes, lucky," he said softly.

"So, you were returning from the market," Hermione said.

Sirius nodded. "Yes. I took a wrong turn, and Greyback's pack discovered Buckbeak running away from him," he explained, and Hermione gasped, drawing her hands to her mouth. "I was dropped next to a rather large tree, with only my wand, plus that bag," he said, nodding to where Hermione had hung it up beside his robes.

Hermione sighed, rolling her shoulders, appearing as if she wished to say something further, but was cut off as Ron came strutting in, levitating a basket of bread, a tankard of ale, and a platter filled with roast, roasted vegetables, and roasted potatoes. As he stepped inside, however, there was a flash of purple hair, and a shriek coming from a child, as he darted around Ron's legs, a mighty giggle escaping his lips.

"Teddy," Hermione scolded, catching ahold of him before he could knock Ron off his feet, and Ron managed to place the food before Sirius. "What have I told you about running about when servants are working, or carrying something heavy?"

Teddy, the little boy that Hermione was reprimanding, pouted; he was quite an adorable child, and couldn't be more than three or four. "Not to do it," he said, his hair turning a pale blue, and Sirius believed that he was very articulate for his age.

Ron smiled indulgently as Sirius began to eat, and gently lifted Teddy into his arms. "Don't think I won't tell my mum what you've been up to, young man."

"No, Won, no!" cried the boy, his hair going a deeper blue, and Sirius smirked as he drank his ale, finding it positively endearing that the boy couldn't properly pronounce 'R' yet. "I won't do it again, I won't! Please, don't tell Mowwy!" he begged, and Sirius deduced that 'L', especially in double form, was a problem for this boy Teddy as well.

Hermione sighed, gently pulling Teddy from Ron's arms, and kissed his forehead. "You know quite well that the process is a long and complicated one, love," she whispered.

Teddy lowered his eyes, his hair going a rather pathetic shade of red, which indicated embarrassment, clearly. "I know..."

"The Wizengamot needs to evaluate that we're suitable, or they'll reject our suit," Ron said, and he appeared to be very stressed at the possibility.

Teddy turned back to Ron, his eyes sad. "I wanna be with you two," he said, looking pleadingly at Ron, then at Hermione.

"What's this, then?" Sirius asked, lowering his cutlery.

Hermione sighed, permitting Teddy back into Ron's arms as she moved to sit across from Sirius, while Ron brought Teddy into the kitchen, speaking to him quietly. "Molly introduced us to Teddy when we first arrived," she said, lowering her eyes to her fingers, which had successfully managed to knot themselves together. "No mother, and his father was unknown—Molly doesn't believe that they ever married," she explained, and Sirius nodded. "He is a wizard, that much we know, and appears to be a Metamorphmagus. Anyhow, Ron and I were so charmed by him, and, given Molly's age and the notion that she had seven children already, Ron and I made the decision to formally adopt Teddy."

Sirius's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. We know we're young, but we love him, we really do. We also know that the Wizengamot would look more favorably upon us if we were married, so we're looking into marrying early. Of course, my parents know nothing of this..."

Sirius nodded. "Clearly. And what about Harry? Have you mentioned it to him?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, we have not yet mentioned it to Harry. To be quite frank, I think he would be as charmed by Teddy as Ron and I are, but I'm also fearful that the trial before the Wizengamot won't go well, and we'll be rejected because we're not married, haven't much money, and my lack of magical status..."

Sirius sighed. "Once I get back to London, would you allow me to speak with Albus and Gellert about this?" he asked, and Hermione looked unsure. "Just to explore potential avenues. The two of them may wish to reach out to you, but I give you my word, I will encourage them both to speak to you and Ron before any action is taken."

Hermione smiled, her eyes filling with tears, as she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss onto Sirius's cheek. "You are a good man, Sirius Black," she whispered.

After Sirius had finished eating, and said goodnight to Ron and Teddy, Hermione showed Sirius to a guest suite in the east wing. She told him she would come to his room at eight the following morning, and make sure that he was awake, and would serve him breakfast. She assured him that they would figure out a way for him to get back to London and to Grimmauld, and that she would provide him with some food for his journey. Sirius thanked Hermione and said goodnight, and used the en suite to wash himself, before he collapsed into the four-poster featherbed.

The following morning, Sirius was shocked to see that his clothed had been laundered, and figured that a grand old house like this must employ a dozen house-elves. Smiling to himself, he quickly dressed, and met Hermione at the door. They chatted while Sirius ate a delightful bowl of porridge, and Hermione mentioned that Minerva had informed the earl of their unexpected guest and, since Sirius had proved to be no trouble, the earl would provide a fresh horse to take Sirius back to London, and, if Sirius so wished it, he could keep the animal. Sirius was shocked at the generosity and immediately accepted the offer.

Hermione snapped her fingers once Sirius had finished his breakfast, and the dishes were cleared away and sent off to the kitchens. Motioning for him to follow, Hermione guided Sirius outside via a side door, close to the stables, and Sirius was shocked to see that his robes and bag were awaiting him upon a peg in that hallway. Sirius put them on and walked outside after Hermione, and noticed a thin layer of frost covering the ground. As they stepped forward, Sirius took in a beautiful black horse, who bowed its head in greeting, and Sirius reached up to pet the animal, who huffed softly, apparently delighted by the attention.

"Walk with the animal towards the gates, and wait until you've cleared the grove of trees before getting on him," Hermione explained. "Then, you'll want to make a right and continue on until the first fork in the road. It's the left fork you want to take, not the right, and this should get you back to London within a few hours."

"Thank you, Hermione," Sirius said, squeezing her offered hand. "I'll speak to Albus and Gellert on behalf of you and Ron, likely by the end of the week."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you. And, when you see Harry, please... Let him know that Ron and I are all right," she said softly.

Sirius smiled down at the girl. "Aye, I will," he told her, and clicked his tongue, gently guiding the animal from the stable yard and towards the front one, Hermione lifting her hand aloft in a moment of farewell. As Sirius walked, he realized he would have to walk through the expansive garden on the property, which proved to be a flower one, and seemed to be under a Stasis Charm, permanently rendered so that the land appeared frozen in springtime. Shocked, Sirius saw a beautiful bed of lilies and, remembering his promise to Harry, stepped forward, and plucked a small handful from the bed.

No sooner had Sirius completed the picking of the flowers, was there a sudden whoosh from behind him, and a tall man in elegantly-cut black robes stood before him. "I should have known it was you," said a dangerously velvet-toned voice from behind him.

Sirius immediately snapped around, his eyes wide. "Snivellus?" he asked, perplexed. "What are you doing here? And, clearly, the years have not been kind to you..."

Lord Severus Snape, Earl of Murkwood Manor, stood before one of his childhood foes, Sirius Black, and narrowed his eyes at him. "I should have known that it would have been a Marauder who would attempt to come and find me, and to stare at me blatantly, in the wake of this curse placed upon me," he growled at the man.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't understand—"

"No, and I wouldn't dream of you ever being capable of understanding," he said, speaking to the man through his teeth. "Not only have I given you food and drink, but I've laundered your clothes, and permitted you sanctuary in my home, after you narrowly escaped a werewolf attack from that adversary Greyback," the man continued. "I do all this for you, and provide you with a horse, after the hell on earth you put me through during our years of Hogwarts. All this is done for you, and yet you have the audacity—the audacity, Black—to repay me by poaching from my bed of lilies, which I use for research, as well as for the brewing of Asphodel?!" he yelled, his voice having steadily grown louder and louder.

"Still playing with your potions set, are we, Snivellus?" Sirius said, and threw his head back and laughed heartily.

Severus's eyes flashed, remembering how, as a younger man, how James Potter, the leader of the little Gryffindor gang of Marauders, had charmed Severus's pantaloons off for all to see, with Sirius Black and their third friend, Remus Lupin, chanting for James to continue. His cheeks flushed at the memory, as well as the notion that Sirius had yet to grow up, and stepped forward, making a grab for Sirius's collar, and glared down at him. "Perhaps, considering Albus didn't see fit to give you just punishment, I should do the same now," he growled.

Sirius looked shocked, the lilies falling woefully to the ground between them, apparently forgotten by the noblemen. "Now, S-Severus, perhaps we're overthinking things..."

"Oh, I beg to differ," the man replied, continuing to glare down at him. "I think a stay within my personal dungeons would do you some good, considering that you yourself attempted to lead me to my own death at the age of eighteen," he said, and, with a snap of his fingers, the horse returned promptly to the stables, while Severus dragged a protesting Sirius towards the door of his potions lab, just off the corridor from the dungeons of Murkwood Manor.

~*~

It came as a complete surprise to Harry when, during lunch precisely ten days after Sirius had left Grimmauld Place for the Colchester market—and having had no letter from him—that there was an almighty clatter in the courtyard. Getting to his feet and leaving his half-eaten sandwich behind, Harry promptly made his way from the parlor and down the corridor towards the front door, which he opened, and was immediately ambushed by a pale blue hippogriff. Harry saw that Buckbeak was still tied to the cart, but there seemed to be one saddlebag missing, and Sirius was nowhere in sight.

"Buckbeak!" Harry shouted, charging forward and throwing up his hands. "Whoa, boy! Down, boy!" he said, and the beast promptly lowered his horse-like legs downward, still looking quite frightful at the situation. "What's happened?" Harry demanded then, rushing forward, and taking ahold of his neck gently. "Where's Sirius? Where is he, Buckbeak?" he asked, and the amber eyes tore from Harry's green one and looked far off into the distance, and something told Harry that something had gone on in Epping Forest. "Right, then," Harry said, unstrapping the hippogriff from the cart and banishing it into the stable area, and promptly summoned his traveling cloak, plus his rucksack—filled with his invisibility cloak, various healing potions, his Sneakoscope, and some scattered photographs he had of the people he was closest to. He tied his cloak in place and shrunk down his rucksack, placing it into the inner pocket of the cloak, which he drew closer, and hauled himself up onto Buckbeak's back. "Take me to Sirius, Buckbeak, please, you've got to take me to him..."

Harry and Buckbeak—after the former gave quick word to Kreacher about what he knew—traveled to Epping Forest as quickly as they could. Harry was surprised at the hippogriff's strength, but didn't question it, knowing quite well that magical beasts were vastly different from Muggle ones. As they arrived in the forest and went down an unfamiliar road, Harry quickly deduced that Sirius and Buckbeak had taken a wrong turn, but that didn't account for his godfather and guardian being missing, nor did it explain the fog and mist in the air. Recalling his experiences with Dementors, Harry swallowed and pushed the hippogriff on, the sound of werewolves howling in the distance as they arrived within a grove of trees didn't help matters much either.

Finally, Harry spotted a black iron gate and urged Buckbeak closer, and used the Unlocking Spell to let them inside, and Harry was surprised at the gates' willingness to cooperate. As soon as he lowered himself from Buckbeak upon entering the gate, the hippogriff trotted off somewhere, and Harry hoped that he'd be able to find him, once he managed to get Sirius out of there and back home. "What is this place?" he whispered to himself, placing a hand upon the front door, which automatically gave to his touch, and he stepped inside. "Hello? Is anyone here?" he called, his voice echoing throughout the entrance hall.

There was a creaking sound then, and, looking up, Harry noticed that there was a door beneath the left side of the sweeping spiral staircase opposite him. Harry promptly reached for his wand, but let it drop in a moment of surprise as Hermione darted out of the door, and, upon seeing that it was Harry standing before her, let out a sob and threw herself into his arms. Harry was almost knocked off his feet, and his heart nearly stopped when the door opened again and saw Ron standing there for a moment, hesitating, before he, too stepped forward.

"Blimey, mate!" Ron shouted, promptly lowering it when Hermione let go of Harry and elbowed him in the ribs. "Are you mad?!"

Harry laughed. "Definitely," he replied, suddenly turning serious. "Buckbeak brought me here, after I asked him to take me to Sirius. Where is he? Why is he here?"

Hermione swallowed, looking at Ron for a moment, before she spoke. "Sirius has been taken prisoner by our master, the earl," she replied, her voice a terrified whisper, as she continually gripped at her apron.

Harry blinked. "Taken prisoner? For what?" he cried out.

Ron swallowed. "His Grace said it was theft, mate," his dearest friend replied, and Harry's eyes snapped to his.

"Theft?" he cried out, looking around. "Sure, the house is beautiful, but Sirius would never take something—"

"It's not what he stole in the house, Harry, but what he stole from the property," Hermione said, clearly wanting to end the conversation.

"The property? What could he possibly have taken? Does the earl have a statue erected of himself or something, or a rare jewel out there?" Harry said, his face morphing into that of a sneer as he attempted to picture it. "You're mental if you expect me to believe that someone like Sirius would shrink down something like that and steal it!"

"Mate, Sirius took a handful of lilies," Ron whispered, and Harry felt his heart stuttering to a halt as he heard Ron's words.

"He took what?" Harry whispered.

Hermione swallowed. "Sirius couldn't find any at the market," she whispered. "So, when he was coming back to London, he was distracted, and made a wrong turn."

"It led him here," Ron continued, "but Greyback's pack separated him and Buckbeak. They both got away, but Buckbeak got to London and to Grimmauld, and Sirius found Murkwood," he said, looking distressed.

"His Grace provided food and shelter for Sirius, and even laundered his clothing," Hermione continued, biting her lower lip, hard. "Well, in the morning, after breakfast, I took Sirius outside to the fresh horse the earl had provided him with. After I told him how to utilize the horse to get back to you in London, he left. Because he left by way of the stables, he had to pass by the gardens, and the flower garden is under a permanent Stasis Charm, so as the earl can use the flowers for his potions. He's a potions master," Hermione put in.

"All the servants are permitted into the gardens, to walk or picnic if they wish, on the condition that they never take anything," Ron said quietly.

"If we wish to pick flowers and place them somewhere in the house, we are permitted to do so, provided it's from flowers the earl doesn't need," Hermione explained. "There's also a kitchen garden, which we use to make the meals—"

"I know what a kitchen garden is, 'Mione," Harry said, never one to care about plants. "Please, just tell me what happened to Sirius."

"Well, mate, after Sirius took the lilies, His Grace came outside and screamed at him. It was a bit frightening," Ron admitted. "Well, His Grace dragged Sirius off to the dungeons, and that was that. Locked him up two days ago he did."

"Apparently, there was some bad blood between them—at least, I think so, judging by the facial expressions," Hermione whispered. "His Grace put up a strong Muffliato, and I couldn't hear a word of their conversation."

Harry's mouth set into a firm line then. "Dungeons are notoriously in the basement," he said quietly, "and, if memory serves me right in History of Magic, most noble houses have their inside basement staircases near to the kitchen." Pushing past Ron and Hermione, despite their protests, Harry went through the door they had come out of, and saw a door that didn't swing dramatically, so he knew that this must lead to the basement.

Harry opened the door and charged down the staircase, the temperature around him immediately getting to freezing cold, prompting Harry to pull the hood of his cloak up, as he walked along the darkened stone corridor, which was illuminated scantly by torches along the wall. When he came around a bed, he heard a coughing, and immediately charged forward upon seeing the rows upon rows of cells. When he gripped the bars of one, gently touching the hands of the prisoner, the pale blue eyes he'd grown up with latched onto his, and Harry was shocked at how gaunt his guardian looked.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered.

Sirius coughed. "Harry..." He managed to get out.

"Merlin, you're freezing!" Harry hissed, but didn't let go of his hands, and looked around, thinking that the cell door obviously had a more complex system than the Unlocking Charm. "I have to get you out of here somehow, get you home..."

"Harry, listen to me," Sirius said, clearing his throat quietly, "I want you to turn around, go back upstairs, find Buckbeak, and get out of here."

Harry blinked. "What? No. I'm staying with you until I figure out a way to get you out of this blasted cell, and we'll go back to Grimmauld together..."

"Harry, please listen..."

"No, you listen," Harry said, cutting across him. "You're ill. You need to go to St. Mungo's, for it looks so bad. I won't leave you here—"

"Harry, please..."

"Who's done this to you, Sirius?!"

"I can't... It's too complicated to explain, there's no time!" Sirius hissed. "You've got to get out of here while you still can—"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Harry yelled back. Just then, he was grabbed from behind and yanked back from the bars and tossed across the room.

"Who invited you into my home?!" growled a new voice.

"Harry, run!" screamed Sirius.

Harry drew back then, looking around, but could not get a glimpse of the person who had grabbed him. "Who grabbed me?" he demanded through his teeth, launching himself back to his feet, his eyes flitting around in the darkness. "How dare you put your hands upon me!"

"How dare you come into my home without permission," came the velvet-like voice in reply, and Harry felt his senses battling then, for the voice itself, when not growling at him, was completely delicious.

"I've come for Sirius, my godfather," Harry said, straightening up, knowing that being direct with this person was likely the only way to get his point across. "You've got to let him out of there, he's ill!"

"He should not have stolen from my potion garden," growled the man, and Harry immediately changed his mind—the man sounded delicious even when growling.

"He could die if he isn't taken to St. Mungo's," Harry protested, knowing that he had to keep a level head here.

"He stole lilies," the man sneered. "I need them to brew my potions."

Harry gritted his teeth. "He got the lilies for me, to put upon my mother's grave," he told the mysterious man, who stiffened visibly in the near darkness. "I asked him for the lilies, although I did not ask him to steal them on my behalf. However, he did so, and although he committed the theft, he did so for me." Harry stepped closer to the man then. "I humbly ask that you release my godfather, so that I may be locked away in his place."

"Harry!" Sirius shouted. "What are you thinking?! I won't allow you to—"

"You wish to take your godfather's place?" the man queried.

"I've just said so, yes," Harry replied.

The man turned around then, suddenly, almost as if he expected Harry to draw back from him in fear, but Harry did not, and instead merely stared into the haunting black pools that were the man's eyes. He also boasted long raven hair, a hooked and regal-looking nose, thin lips, and pale skin which rivaled his own. "Very well," the man said, drinking in Harry's appearance, and lifted his hand, causing the bars upon the cell to vanish, and Sirius fell to the ground, weak. "Say your goodbyes, then," he ordered, turning about.

Sirius reached into his pocket, pressing two small things into Harry's hand. "Hide these," he managed to get out, and stumbled to his feet, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. "You don't know what he is capable of. Stay strong, and be careful..."

Harry nodded. "Of course I shall," he replied, placing what he realized were the compass and a new tome from the Fawley family, both shrunken down, into his pocket. "Always on my guard, like you taught me."

The earl sneered at the display, obviously impatient. "Dobby," he said a moment later, clearly wishing to get the charade over with.

There was a crack then, and a house-elf, noticeably younger than Kreacher, suddenly appeared in the dungeons. "Master has called for Dobby?" he asked.

"Yes," said the earl. "Once this Harry person has bidden goodbye to Sirius, you will remove Sirius from my house. Take both Sirius and his hippogriff to his house in London, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, then return here, and escort Harry to rooms in the east wing."

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping. "Yes, Your Grace," he replied, grabbing ahold of Sirius, and vanishing with a crack.

Harry looked up at the man, and sighed. "Shall I, too, address you as 'Your Grace'?" he asked, his tone genuinely questioning.

The man turned and regarded Harry for a moment. "I do not care one whit what you call me, Harry, provided that it is not 'greasy git'," he growled, his robes snapping as he turned away from Harry.

Dobby popped back a moment later. "Master Harry?" he said, and offered the eighteen-year-old his hand.

Harry gave a tentative smile at the elf and took his hand. They cracked out of the dungeons and into a pleasant room in the east wing, with walls that matched Harry's eyes. "Thank you, Dobby," he said quietly.

"His Grace will want you to join him for dinner," Dobby squeaked, lowering his eyes, leading Harry to believe that it wasn't a request. "Your valet will be along shortly to help you dress, as master will want you to be comfortable."

Harry gave a nod, and thanked the elf, before he cracked away. Rushing forward and peering out of one of the windows, he looked across the grounds. Snow had fallen, and now there were heavy drifts all around, making traveling dangerous, if not impossible. "Comfortable," Harry said bitterly, hunching his shoulders and wrapping his arms around himself. "However am I supposed to be comfortable when I've signed myself up as a prisoner?" he whispered.