Work Text:
There was a faint glow of dawn in the night sky.
It had taken you a long time to move from your chair once you had opened your eyes and realized that Asterius’ candle had done something. How would this work? As you shifted your head you could see the Halls change perspective, it made you nervous to move. You could see this strange world, but how close were you to being within it?
Your legs shook as you pulled yourself up to stand, a wave of nausea pulling through you as your double vision shifted and realigned. Carefully, you turned your head and saw other Halls, transparent and black against your dark home. Your heart lurched as you came to understand how very vast this strange place was.
“Padfoot?” You called aloud, voice trembling. The dynamite hiss of the candle echoing after your voice. You jumped as you heard an indistinguishable sound echo from a far away Hall. You fought to keep calm, squeezing your eyes closed as you focused on your breath. You could feel sweat beading up on the nape of your neck, running down your spine.
Swallowing dryly, you took a step. Your stomach flipped as you watched yourself walk in the direction of your bedroom, but also lurch underneath an archway.
You took another step, and then another. You left the hissing candle on your kitchen table and entered your bedroom, wanting to collapse onto your sheets and stay still. As you fell against your mattress you looked up to your bedroom ceiling to find an ornately carved Vestibule shielding you from an unknown sky. You raised your hand, tracing its intricacies with your fingertips against the air, every breath you took felt like you were moving a monumental weight atop your chest. It was easier to see this strange place now that you were in a dark room and the only light came from distant Halls.
Your hand fell back to your side with a heavy thump. You forced yourself to take big, calm breaths. It was going to be fine, you tried to reassure yourself, you could make it through this, you could master this. You tried not to wonder about how long it would last.
“Is… that you?” Padfoot’s voice came from the dark.
You gasped in excitement, forcing yourself to sit up despite the dizziness. “Padfoot?” You saw the faintest silhouette of a person standing in your bedroom doorway. For a moment you panicked as you thought there may actually be a stranger in your home.
“You’re- you’re here?” The silhouette approached the side of your bed, translucent and so faint that all you could really see was their outline. “What… what have you done?” Padfoot asked, voice low.
You squinted, desperately trying to glimpse their facial features. “This is a different form of scrying-“ you replied, self conscious from how different your voice sounded as you labored to breathe through the thick, smoky, sweet air.
Padfoot knelt over you, very still. Their form eclipsed the faint light, causing your world to darken completely. Despite this, you squinted your eyes, yearning to see the features of Padfoot’s face clearly.
“What have you done-“ they repeated, their tone growing from anxiety to anger. “Did you…did you do this to find me?”
“To help you- to see where you were.” you replied, continuing to squint into the shadows that made up Padfoot. Broad, angular shoulders, narrow hips, lanky limbed with straggly long hair.
“No-“ Padfoot growled, shoulders rising. “What could this do? You can’t even talk.”
Irritation sparked in you. You stopped yourself from snapping at them, hoping instead to move forward. “Do you think this is how you got here?” You asked. Padfoot stared at you for a long time.
“I don’t recall having any interest in spiritualism. My-” they paused again, looking down at the floor as they tried to remember details of their life. “-aunt? My aunt certainly did. And my brother.”
“Your great aunt Dorea?” you nodded. Padfoot sat up in surprise.
“Did I already mention that?”
“Yes. Do you think there is any likelihood that this great aunt of yours is Dorea Black?”
Padfoot let out a breathy laugh. You watched as they ran a hand through their very tangled, ratty hair. “That degenerate family? Given that my luck landed me here I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“So you remember the Black family, and you can remember that you had a great aunt named Dorea, and a brother?”
“When did I tell you that I had an aunt?”
“When we met yesterday…” you answered softly. You watched Padfoot’s shoulders fall.
“Alright.”
“What is it?”
“I just hadn’t realized that this… place… also mucked about with memory.” There was a long stretch of silence. “All the more reason for you not to be doing-” Padfoot gestured at you, “Whatever this is.”
You chose to ignore Padfoot’s last statement. “Can you recall anything else about yourself?”
“Terribly handsome lad. Erudite, charming… virile. “
You squinted at him. “Mhm.”
“Probably the best looking man you don’t have any way of seeing.”
You rolled your eyes. “So you’re male?”
Padfoot’s posture stiffened, his hand rose to his chest in a gesture of great offense. “Has that not been clear?”
“You’d be surprised by the forms people take on once they’re-” you shrugged loosely, “-once they can. Sometimes it's more genuine to their self concept, sometimes people are just silly and having fun.”
Padfoot laughed a low, bemused chuckle. The sound made your cheeks feel warm. You could see his shoulders rolling with the depth of his laugh and you caught yourself smiling up into his shadowed face.
“Do you remember anything that you did before you came to be here?”
Another long pause. The distant whispers filled up your ears as Padfoot considered your question.
“Only a feeling?”
“That’s not nothing.” you encouraged. “What is it?”
“I remember feeling surprised and then deeply sorry, deeply regretful. Panicked, and sad, and sorry.”
A shift swept through the whole room, causing you to lurch unevenly as if on a bumpy train. You closed your eyes through another wave of nausea and overwhelm. It was as if a window had opened, or the clouds had parted to reveal a shining moon. A tonal change overcame the environment.
You stayed that way for a long moment, eyes closed and your mind drowsy for want of sleep. Then you realized what had changed- it was quiet.
Dread fell through you, heavy and sudden as you opened your eyes to your bedroom. The candle was not hissing. It must have burnt out in a pool of wax. Shakily, you pushed yourself off of your bed, stumbling as you leapt towards your kitchen table.
The last wispy hint of Padfoot lurched towards you, arms outstretched to steady you but quickly dissipated as you fell through the doorway and staggered towards the candle. It had burnt down about a quarter of an inch before flickering out.
You cursed under your breath.
“Padfoot I’m sorry,” you patted the top of the table, trying to feel for your wand in the dark. “I’m coming back-” you whispered, fighting against your heavy limbs, your half closed eyes, but it was no contest as your world went dark.
-X-
How was it possible for a sound to hurt such a specific part of your head? You winced, turning away from the noise. Your body rocked as you turned and water sloshed around you. As you became slightly more conscious, your waking thought was how desperately you wanted that sound to stop, that you would give anything for that sound to stop.
You sighed, but it turned quickly into a hard, dry cough that brought tears to your eyes. You stammered as you squinted your eyes open and quickly closed them again- too bright.
The water rocked you once again, it was nauseating.
“Okay-” you groaned, voice rough, as you pulled yourself from your bathtub, gingerly stepping out onto your soaked bathroom floor. Your robes felt so heavy, they clung to the side of your porcelain tub, nearly pulling you back into the water. “Off!” was all you could manage to say, as you pulled your wet clothing off and left your bathroom.
You fell onto your bed with a contented sigh. Peace at last. No more horrible noise, no more water. Your nose burned a little with the lingering candle smoke. You remembered how angry you’d become at that bloody candle. How you had tried to ignite it but the wick was buried in the wax and it wouldn’t catch no matter what you did.
Then, the terrible sound happened again and your headache tensed as if there was a vice around your temple. “Ugh-“ you groaned against your sheets, running your hands through your half wet hair. But the sound wasn’t stopping. The rattle of hinges. Knuckles against a door. Your temple pulsed with every knock.
“Damn it all-“ you cursed, peeling yourself off of your bed. You wrapped your duvet around you and stomped towards your front door. “I’m bloody coming!” you called.
With an irritated thrust, you pulled back your door to reveal Byron, looking down at you with wide wet eyes.
“Thank Merlin-“ you heard Byron’s voice cry, but before you could react, he pulled you into a crushing embrace. “You scared me half to death you-“
Sputtering, you tried to pull away enough to be able to speak without beard in your mouth. “What are you on about?” you whined, bewildered. But Byron wouldn’t loosen his hold. Your eyes widened as you felt his heart beating hard against you.
“Byron…?” you asked softly, voice still scratchy from all the smoke. “What happened?”
He pulled away then, keeping his hands on your shoulders as he crouched to look into your eyes. “You look alright-” he said, his light grey eyes sweeping over you before glistening with tears, “You really scared me.”
“What did I do?” you exclaimed, a little frustrated. You patted one of his arms and ushered him into your house. When you turned back to look at Byron you found him frowning at you. “What?” you asked impatiently.
“You-” his relief transformed to confusion. “You haven’t come to work in two days. No one has heard from you. And with all the news that’s coming out, I- I couldn’t just pretend I wasn’t concerned-”
“What?” you asked incredulously. You looked around your flat for some confirmation of what Byron said. There were letters piled up at the window sill, but other than that you wouldn’t have known how much time had apparently passed. You felt a bead of sweat run down the side of your face as a quiet, shameful, horror filled your stomach. How could you have lost so much time?
“Ho!” Byron jumped, you followed his eyes to the end of your corridor to see water spilling out into the hall. Byron ran down to your bathroom. You blinked, only just remembering that you had woken up in your bathtub.
You covered your face with your hands. “What a mess.”
“S’alright! I got it now!” Byron called. You heard several wet footsteps and the crank of your water faucet turning off. All you could do was stand there and press your hands to your increasingly warm face. You felt so embarrassed and regretful, but there was also a hot anger growing in you- how could you have lost so much control? After all your training? Was this what ego death felt like?
Between your fingers you could see Byron waving spells at all of the water. Moments later, he was back beside you. “Phew!” He chuckled, smiling at you. “It’s good mum gave me chores way back when- some of those cleaning charms are so handy.”
You gave a half hearted smile and let your hands fall away from your face. “I am so sorry Byron. I didn’t mean to worry you, and I didn’t mean for you to find me in this state.”
“I’m just happy you’re okay-” he assured, placing his hand on the top of your head. “Why don’t I make us a spot of tea and we can catch you up, hm?”
You both turned to look over at your kitchen table, where your phiale and mirror were still set up, Byron’s gilead laurel encircling it all. “I’m guessing it didn’t do much good for you?” he teased, walking over to the table and pulling out a chair for himself and you.
“Maybe things would have been worse without it-” you sighed, sitting yourself down. Beside the candlestick, some of the sweet, glittering wax had spilled onto your wand. You reached over to pick it off.
Byron flicked his wand towards your kettle, which filled with water as the stove beneath it lit up. “How bad was it?”
“I mean-” you gestured, cringing, towards your bathroom. “Obviously not ideal. I can’t afford to just black out for two days at a time. It’s unlike any kind of scrying I’ve done before… you have very little control of your environment- I think.”
Despite the concern in his eyes, Byron smiled. “But?”
“But what?” you retorted, running a hand down your face.
“It worked? You found who you were lookin’ for?”
“Yes- rather, he found me.” you said, standing up to fill your teapot with leaves. The conversation paused pleasantly as you poured the water from the kettle into the pot. You watched the leaves unfurl and flatten, wide, dark and velvety. “I’m not done, though. He’s still there.”
“Well-” Byron chewed on his lip, thinking for a moment before he abruptly slapped the table, “We’ll just have to find some ways to make it safer for you, then. I brought the wrong plant- let’s try something else… I dunno maybe Morning Glories. They’re good in a pinch. And!” Byron pointed to the candle, still on the candlestick. “That’s what does it, right? That’s what you got from Asterius?”
“Yea.” you replied, conjuring two tea cups.
“Did you get more than one?”
You reached into your bag and handed him the second, pristine candle. Byron carefully pulled the used candle off of the stick and compared how much it had burnt down.
“See?” he said, holding them for you to look at. “We can cut a notch out of it that’s about half… or a quarter of what you burnt the first time. See if that makes it less overpowering.”
You conceded a nod to Byron as you handed him his tea. “That could help-“ you said, sitting back down. You wrapped your hands around your mug, allowing the warmth to spread through your fingertips. “So, what were the last two days like?”
“Not pretty.” Byron said, taking a gulp of tea. “We’ve been fully booked and the folks coming in are not even sure what they want. I had a bloke who didn’t know what we did- he just wanted to be able to talk to someone. Poor man.”
You frowned, guilt washing over you again. There weren’t many people who worked in the Specularri wing of St. Mungos. There was Byron, you, Aurelia was still in training, and then the Head Specularri and your boss, Solonie.
“Wipe that look off your face.” Byron said into his teacup as he took another gulp. “Technically, you have been on a job.”
“Ugh-” you pulled your knees up and hugged your legs, curling into a ball on your chair. “I don’t know if Solonie would see it that way.”
“She knows that like her, you made an oath when you received your license from the ministry.” Bryon reminded you, pouring himself more tea. “We’re bound to serve and heal. If that’s not what you’re doing then I don’t know what would be.”
“I wonder if you’re going to keep sticking up for me the next time I’m suddenly out for three days and you’ve taken all of my appointments on yourself.” you replied testily.
“I’m not saying I don’t have my reasons.” Byron chuckled, running his hand through his beard. “In fact, now that you mention it-”
“Oh here we go.” you laughed, taking a long sip of tea.
“I have an appointment this afternoon that, well- before I go any further I should make it clear that needs to stay between you and I.”
“Confidentiality is also a tenant of our profession.” you teased, setting down your teacup to give Byron your full attention. “Please go on.”
“You were probably too young to know what the Order of the Phoenix was back when this was all happening the last time.” Byron sighed, “Basically a resistance movement that was willing to be a bit bolder than the Ministry. Obviously it was very secretive since Death Eaters would target anyone who opposed them.”
“Alright?” you encouraged, eyes narrowing. “Were you a part of it?”
“No-” Byron replied, becoming a bit more tense, “You know that I wasn’t a part of a great crowd back then, not Death Eaters, but not a great crowd anyway.”
“So what does all that have to do with your appointment?”
“There’s that pub I like, The Hanged Man?”
“Dingey. Still can’t believe you go there. But okay?”
Byron rolled his eyes at you. “Well my favorite barkeep over there-”
“Favorite barkeep?”
“-he asked me if he could book an appointment.”
“But, isn’t that a muggle bar?”
“That’s the thing!” Byron grinned, your headache flared as he slapped the table again. “He’s been lyin’ low there. We’ve got to talkin’ the last few times I’ve been and he’s out there to keep an ear out for Death Eater talk.”
“So… what you’ve been trying to say is that you met someone who is a part of the new Order of the Phoenix?” you asked. Despite how sick you felt, excitement gripped you.
“He hasn’t said it outright, but yes. And I think he was hoping to recruit me before he realized that I work at St. Mungos.”
“Oh-” you replied dejectedly. It made sense that St. Mungos obligated its healers to not discriminate in their services, but this felt a bit too ridiculous. “How would they know? If the Order of the Phoenix is that good at keeping secrets then you shouldn’t have to worry! Besides, it’s a war against Death Eaters- that’s a pretty safe line to take sides on.”
The more irritated you sounded the brighter Byron smiled. “Can you guess who he wants to reach?”
“How would I know?”
“Does the name Igor Karkaroff ring any bells?”
“The… the headmaster of Durmstrang?” you asked, your face screwed up in thought, “He died? How?”
“He used to be a Death Eater, and he’s been on the run from You-Know-Who for almost a year. Remus- the bartender- he thought that was pretty impressive actually. Karkaroff’s body was found yesterday in some shack up north with the Dark Mark over it.”
You sat back in your chair as a chill came over you. It felt like the world was spinning far too quickly into a much more dangerous place. Your heart fluttered, and then skipped a beat. Your talents had always been with divinatory magic, but would you be able to keep yourself safe?
Byron reached his hand over and rested it on top of yours. The heavy warmth of his palm brought you out of your panic, you looked at the skin of his fingers, how the morning light fell into every wrinkle.
It felt selfish to panic, especially when there were so many people who were far more vulnerable than you. Especially when, according to all of the sensible headlines you’d read for the last year, Voldemort’s focus was first and foremost on killing Harry Potter, who was still very much a child.
“It’s been one of my biggest regrets,” Byron said softly, “not doing more- not having done anything the last time. I know I’m not supposed to take sides but I don’t know if I can sit by and not help.”
“What do you need from me?” you asked, squeezing his hand.
“To cover for me, I guess? If Solonie suspects, or if some other bigger wig at St. Mungo’s or the Ministry gets weary.”
“Of course.” you were surprised by the solidness of your tone as you answered. Byron visibly relaxed by your reply. “When is it?”
“In about 3 hours?”
“Wow-” you choked on a laugh. “You really had a lot riding on me being alive when you got here, didn’t you?”
“Sheesh-” Byron chuckled, tying his hair into a bun on the top of his head. “But in the meantime, why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and I’ll work on finding some things to help with those candles?”
-X-
You still didn’t feel completely yourself by the time you and Byron appeared in the fireplace of the Specularri Offices. It was more than just being tired, it felt like there was something caught in your eye, a flicker in the periphery of your vision but no matter how many times you rubbed your eye it wouldn’t go away.
“It might be better to rely on what we have here, instead of going to a shop-” Byron said as you two stepped out of the fireplace. “Everyone is buying up anything they can to protect themselves, and the shops are hiking up the prices to boot!”
“That’s awful.” you replied quietly. You looked around and frowned, “Where is Aurelia?”
“It’s off the books so I made sure to schedule this while she was on lunch.” Byron answered as you two began to walk towards your offices. “Anyways, the Ministry is working on prohibiting price gouging but- how? No one is going to listen to Fudge anyway.”
You unlocked your door and held it open for Byron, following him in and closing it behind you. You carefully placed your phiale and your mirror on the table in the center of your office. Your arms had shaken carrying them for only a few minutes. You thought of how Asterius had looked when you met him before quickly pushing the image out of your mind.
“You can go get your office ready, Byron.” you said, unlocking your mirror. “I’ll keep an eye on the front.”
“Cool.” Byron said, winking at you and then quickly darting back into the hallway. You felt yourself smiling as you watched how excited he seemed.
You were distracted thinking of Padfoot as you set up your table. Somehow, it didn’t feel like any time had passed since the night of the new moon and yet so much had happened. Your office felt eerie as you recalled what you’d experienced there days ago. The ease in which you’d slipped into your appointment with the Gadifer’s and then later, with Padfoot. How the water had rippled in your Phiale as he tapped the ‘black glass’ he saw you through. How you had asked for candles of asphodel and powdered moonstone, and Aurelia had mistakenly given you one with little pink flowers.
What had those been?
Quietly, you headed back towards the reception desk, slipping behind it somewhat self consciously- you were dreading running into Solonie after not showing up for work for two and a half days with no word. You pulled open the drawer full of candles and as quickly and quietly as you could, rifled through them, trying to remember where Aurelia’s hands had been.
Maybe whatever that candle was would be a clue to how you connected to Padfoot? What would the ingredients be able to tell you? You became increasingly flustered as you began to dig around, eyes narrowed to see any pink petals. Finally, at the very back of the drawer, you saw them. “Gotcha-” you whispered triumphantly, grabbing a handful of them.
“Hello?” a voice rang out.
You jumped. “Oh!” you started, standing up from behind the desk. “Hi- hello- I’m sorry.” The man before you looked down at you, bewildered. He was very tall and seemed self conscious about it, his shoulders curled and his back hunched in an effort to fill less space. A very young, adrogenous person stood behind him. They seemed tense, you could tell that they were struggling to look neutral.
There was a sinking feeling in your stomach as you read signs of fresh grief on both of their faces, the dark, bloodshot eyes, heavy shouldered, upturned lines on their mouths and brows. The man seemed particularly beaten by life, there were so many scars on his face.
“Not at all-” the man answered, granting you a very warm smile. “I believe we had an appointment with Byron?”
You glanced down at the desk- were you supposed to act like you knew, or not? If the Order of the Phoenix was so secret, would he be using an alias? “Uh-” you started awkwardly. Remus raised his eyebrows, looking around as if to check that he was in the right office.
“Hello there Lupin!” Byron greeted from the corridor. “I’m glad you made it.”
Remus exchanged a relieved look with his friend before walking over to shake Byron’s hand.
“My office is just down the hall here.” Byron continued, nodding his head in the direction.
“Are you coming, Tonks?” Remus asked his friend.
“No, thanks.” Tonks replied, you pretended to not notice that they were staring at you.
You pocketed the handful of candles you’d scraped from the back of the desk drawer, before standing up fully and closing the drawer with your knee. The sound rang hollowly through the lobby as Remus and Byron’s voices disappeared behind Byron’s office door. You turned to head back to your own office.
“You’re a Specularri too?” Tonk’s asked, their tone careful and polite.
You turned to look back at them. “Yes-” you started, running your thumb down one of the candles in your pocket nervously. “Yea Byron and I actually trained together.”
“I believe he told Rem about you.” Tonks replied, smiling and tilting their head. “Something about how you were the top of your class, one of the most distinguished students to graduate.”
“Well… it sounds impressive but they only get 11 students a decade or something like that.” you said, returning the smile. There was a long silence, you could tell Tonks was thinking over their words carefully.
“You help the Ministry too, sometimes right?”
“Um, yea I have.” you were surprised they would know that. “How did you-”
“I work for the Ministry.” Tonks replied, shrugging. “I’m an Auror… but I’ve only ever heard of people using Specularri services… never done it myself.” Another long pause. “Is it more difficult when it’s… personal?”
“No, it’s actually far, far easier.” you replied, “I’m happy to try and help with Ministry cases when I can, but honestly unless the people involved shared something, well frankly it can be a waste of time.”
Tonks looked very surprised by this news. Their round eyes glanced down the corridor Remus and Byron went down. “I wonder if they’ll have any success then. I’m surprised Remus didn’t ask for you, after all the praising Byron did.”
It took an olympian level of effort to not roll your eyes. You’d have words for Byron later. “I am sure he did a good job of assuring Lupin that he’d be confidential and gained his trust.”
“Well um… do you have any time? Or do you have loads of appointments?” Tonks asked meekly.
You frowned, confused. “You mean with you? Now?”
“I’m curious about something…” Tonks replied, though their tone darkened so much you wondered if curiosity had anything to do with it.
“Follow me.” you said, leading Tonks into your office. They closed the door behind them, wiggling the handle to make sure the bolt slid into place. You gestured for them to sit on the other side of the table from you. “So,” you started, sitting down. “Who is the person we are reaching out to, today?”
Tonk’s face smoothed over as if carved from stone. “Sirius Black.” they replied, tone pointedly neutral.
Your breath caught in your throat. “The criminal?” you clarified stupidly. Maybe they were working on a case?
“Yes.” Tonks replied, their voice wavered slightly.
“I’m sorry for not being clearer but this only works for those who have passed away.”
Tonks looked into your eyes, they were emotional but you couldn’t read exactly what it was. “He did, three nights ago at the Ministry.”
You tried to hide the surprise you felt. “During that brawl at the Department of Mysteries?”
“Yes. I was there.” Tonks looked away from you again.
You couldn’t help but watch them as you filled your Phiale with water. They didn’t seem relieved in the least that Sirius Black had been stopped. You wondered what pieces to the story you were missing.
You placed a standard stock candle into your candleholder and lowered the lights in the office with a sweep of your wand. “Alright Tonks, just so you are aware of how this works, I will be essentially conducting your magic to call Sirius. If my wand produces a white smoke, it means that we have been successful. I- I would also like to add that talking with the spirits of those that were unwell or died in a horrific manner are typically difficult to communicate with.”
Tonks fixed their gaze upon you once more, steeled over. “I understand.” they replied, voice low.
You raised your wand to your side, as if you were about to conduct a symphony. “Sirius Black.” your voice rang out. You flicked your wand to your side. Black smoke.
You frowned and flicked it again. Black smoke.
Tonk’s eyes widened, becoming hopeful.
You flicked your wand again. Black smoke.
It felt as if minutes passed by before you said anything.
“It would appear that I cannot reach him.” you finally spoke, frowning.
“Is that unusual?” Tonks asked.
“Yes…” you answered distractedly. You typically had such a good success rate that you felt thrown. Did Asterius’ candle harm your ability to scry? But you couldn’t terrorize yourself with those thoughts just yet. “Tonks, I am sorry to have disappointed you.” you said, pocketing your wand.
“Not at all,” they replied, a small childlike smile on their face. “In fact you may have done the opposite.”
Standing, you reached your hand over to shake. “It’s been a pleasure, I mean that. I… um I admire the work you’re doing- I mean that you do.”
Tonks raised one playful eyebrow at you, entertained by your blubbering. Your heart skipped a beat as you were reminded of when you first met Padfoot, the little of his brow you’d been able to glimpse. “It has been a pleasure.” they agreed.
The door to Byron’s office clicked open, and you followed Tonks to the corridor to meet them. Remus and Byron’s faces were pale, stricken with shock.
Tonks pointed at Remus’ gaunt expression and looked at you. “Is that what you meant when you said violent death?”
“It is…” you answered, giving Byron a sympathetic smile.
Remus reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a bar of chocolate, breaking off a large corner for himself before offering it to Byron. “Well, thank you.” he said shakily, “That was useful.”
Byron nodded soberly and accepted the bar of chocolate, pocketing the whole package in his robes. You were about to chastise him, but Remus continued speaking.
“We will probably require your talents again…” Remus sighed, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over a brass locket he wore. “…if things continue to go as they have been.”
You and Byron exchanged knowing looks. It was an unfortunate reality that business was likely to do very well in the coming future.
“Wish I could offer to take you for a drink, after all that.” Byron admitted. “I could certainly use one.”
Tonks’ eyes lit up, but before they could say anything Remus replied, “Some other time, perhaps.”
Impulsively you held out your hand. “It was nice to meet you, Remus.” you said, as he shook your hand. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do to um, help, too.”
You could have sworn you felt Byron shake his fist victoriously beside you.
Tonks and Remus both nodded, smiling. “It’s appreciated. I am sure you’ll be taken up on it.” Tonks said.
“Until we meet again, then.” Remus said, taking his wand out of his cloak pocket. “Tonks, I was asked if you would like to join us for dinner tonight?”
“Sure.” Tonks said, before they both apparated.
“...Best of my class, hm?” you hissed as soon as they left.
“If you think you’ll get me to regret chattin’ you up to anyone who’ll hear me, you’re sorely mistaken.” Byron said, popping a chocolate square in his mouth victoriously.
“Well, you did it.” you congratulated, nudging him. “Seems like you’ve got an in.”
“I think you mean it seems like we’ve got an in.” Byron replied with a wink.
You took a big breath, excitement and anxiety overwhelming you in equal measure.
“Ahh, there you two are.” Solonie’s velvety voice called from the offices. Biting your lip, you turned and nodded to her as she walked down the hall.
“Afternoon, Solonie.” you murmured, “I’m happy to be back.”
“As are we, isn’t that true, Byron?” her dark eyes flashed to him.
“Oh, of course I am!” Byron agreed enthusiastically.
“Actually-” you started, “it’s good to have you both for a moment.” You took one of the candles from your pocket and held it up for both of them to inspect. “Do either of you know what this is?”
“Well Byron is the one with a talent for botanics.” she smiled, looking over to him. “What would you say?”
Byron plucked the candle from you, holding it up in the light as he squinted at the little pink flowers. “Huh-” he turned it in his fingers, checking the butt of the candle for a seal. “I didn’t make these. There wasn’t a label in the drawer?”
“No!” you shook your head, “They were in the back, just sort of rolling around.”
“Alyssum, perhaps?” Solonie suggested.
“No… I think it’s a Crocus.” Byron replied, giving you back the candle.
You nodded, though this meant very little to you. Divinatory herbology had never been your strength. “Interesting.” you lied. Byron gave you a knowing, wry smile but Solonie just nodded.
“Well, I have to get going. There is a department head meeting on the top floor.” Solonie said, walking over to the fireplace. Her eyes rested on you again. “I understand that you often have more work than most could handle… but our world has turned less safe, and I’d appreciate you checking in with me regularly.”
“Of course, Solonie. I apologize for these last few days.”
“That isn’t necessary.” she assured, and you felt she meant it. “We just have to be better at looking out for one another, now.”
Before you could say anything more, you and Byron were once again left alone.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” Byron grunted, smiling at you.
You ran a hand over your face, sighing as you felt some anxiety fall off of you- it was a relief Solonie wasn’t upset. You pulled Byron back into your office and took the candles out of your pocket, placing them on your table.
“What can you tell me about crocus?” you asked, taking a seat.
Byron took the seat across from you, picking up one of the candles to look at it again. “Well… there are two different kinds and they are both poisonous.”
You laughed bitterly. “Seems like dangerous candles like me, lately.”
“Crocus sativus isn’t really used in candles, people like it for dyes and inks. The stamens in this candle are also quite big, so I think it’s crocus vernus.”
“What is crocus vernus good for?”
“Well that’s the thing, it’s a little odd.”
“Why?”
“It’s known for being used in rituals in Minoan tradition… it’s good for magic involving-” Byron frowned, staring at the candle.
“Go on-” you encouraged.
“Resurrection? Redirecting pain and attracting love. But it’s mostly been used in resurrection and amplifying psychic ability.” Byron said, shrugging. “Which is a little odd for us to have here, so I dunno, I’m a bit stumped.”
“I mean… that could be why I found Padfoot then?” you suggested, looking to Byron hopefully.
“It would support your idea that he isn’t dead at least…” Byron nodded, “If the candle had nothing to do with reaching out to the dead.” There was a long pause. You could hear Aurelia coming back into the office and sitting at her desk.
“Asterius said it would take me a month of using those candles for me to be able to find, uh, results.” you thought aloud. Byron fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Listen,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically low, “I know I told you to go to him, and I know that you’re damn well capable but- I mean hell, you don’t even know what you’re dealing with so I just want you to promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
“Of course-” you replied, though you felt as if you weren’t being as earnest as you should. It had been a long time since you were fascinated by something like this. And, though you didn’t want to admit it plainly, it was much easier to sink your mind into Padfoot’s rescue than it was to ponder the return of Voldemort.
From everything Padfoot had said it seemed very likely that he could be a Black, but he was also so playful and open- it was difficult for you to picture him belonging to a family notorious for their ties to the darkest movements in wizarding history. You thought of what Tonks had told you, and wondered if there was a connection to you finding him the same night Sirius Black died?
“When I met him, he was in a pretty bad way but we got along.” Byron sighed, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Asterius? Do you know what happened to him?”
“His boyfriend disappeared. This was a while ago, everyone thought it was You-Know-Who that killed him.”
Your eyes widened. “Him, personally?” you asked, incredulous.
“Well yea, he was running from him, sort of like Karkaroff.”
“Oh, he was a Death Eater?”
“Yea.” Byron said, shaking his head sadly. “He was young too, I think he and Asterius were 18 or so.”
“Do you know who he was?” you asked.
“His name was Regulus Black.”