Safe and Sound, Chapter Eight Written By: thisisnotapalindrome Edited By: Snivellus Hello, lovely people! Padfoot here. I just wanted to let you know that this chapter is not going to be a happy one. It has mentions of extreme nightmares and of feeling worthless, so I just wanted you to be aware. Once again, I do not own the Harry Potter Series or any of its characters. All rights to the amazing J.K. Rowling. As I am sure you are aware, I have changed my username. Don't worry, we are still the same people writing the book; Padfoot and Snivellus, we just go under a different username. That is all. Enjoy the chapter and have a nice day/night/evening depending on what time it is in your country. Sirius Black is frustrated beyond the point of normality. Between his work with the Ministry, taking care of Gracie, and his pursuit of Ivory, who -much to Sirius's delight- was assigned the same case as he was, it was a lot to handle. It was a small job, but a job none the less. Sirius could only do unpretentious jobs anyways, because it he ever had to leave for his Auror business, he had no idea where Gracie would go. When they first moved into their current house, he thought he was going to explode. There wasn't any room and he felt like he couldn't properly breathe. Now was a different story. If he'd bought the nice ten acre house like he planned to, they would've been evicted before the second bill came in. The quaint house was was cozier, comfier, and way more inexpensive. But even with the low price range, they were barely scraping by. Sirius had enough sense to be thankful that they weren't as poor as the Weasleys, but he still wished that when he got himself out, he would have more. It sounds so selfish, and he couldn't help but feel awful about it. He was out of Azkaban. That alone made the whole situation more tolerable. But he had hoped that when he got out, he would inherit his parents' fortune, buy a nice big house, and live happily ever after. If only things were that simple. The real reason it took three months for Sirius, Harry, and Gracie to move out of the Leaky Cauldron and into their house was the fact of money. The first month was spent getting Sirius fully clear. The next two were spent trying to find the money to move out. He'd only received a snippet- a part so small it seemed to be nonexistent- of the Black family fortune. Why? Because the Ministry didn't want the money to go to someone who could use it against them. They were afraid that if they gave the money to Sirius, he'd go and do something drastic with it. In other words, they were afraid he'd give the money to the Death Eaters...even if he had been cleared of all charges. Fear is what drives the human mind, magical or not. Fear seeps into the human brain and controls it so intently that most people don't even know it's there. Sirius is one of the few people who understood. Twelve years in Azkaban doesn't leave you without a wound. In his case, it was deep, jagged, and it still bled when no one was looking. Nights are the worst, when the fear seeps in so profusely that he can't tell the difference between actuality and make-believe. Because that was his biggest fear; that none of this was real and he was living in a broken reality. Perhaps that was the reason he woke up in the middle of the night. He would all but tear himself apart to make him believe that this all was real. That he was real. And he wasn't in that prison anymore. And that's why he knew fear better than anyone; because his fear didn't go away after one night. Morning broke through the day faster than a bullet can fly from a gun. Sirius groaned and got out of bed, bored of the same old routine. Rubbing his eyes, he managed a small smile. Remembering that today he would have some variety. Sirius seldom got to go in the field, so this time he wanted to make it a success. He considered it a huge up-factor that Ivory would be joining him even if the case wasn't all that important. The Ministry had received news that some low-level Death Eater was blowing up dangerous items from a couple low-key shops in muggle London. Simple work, really. Hell, dropping Gracie off at Remus's was probably the most difficult task of the whole operation, as the six year old was reluctant in letting him leave. Sirius walked into the Ministry with the same smirk he always wore; the one that masked what lies beyond the surface. He said a dismissive hello to a few of his co-workers, none of which he knew by name. Sirius made his way to the Floo Networking site at the Ministry, where he had promptly agreed to meet Ivory at nine o'clock. The familiar sight of her porcelain skin and obsidian hair greeted him with rosy lips drawn in a tight frown and cerulean eyes that looked like they'd rather be somewhere else. Sirius internally sighed. He knew he had no chance with Ivory, but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted one. She seemed too negative for his liking, as well as having too much on his plate right now. Grudgingly, the two strode over to a vacant fireplace and transported in a blur of green flames to a hidden shop, which Sirius could only hope was located in the muggle area. From there, they walked to the scene where the culprit had last been. It was towards the back end of a shopping alley, not much damage had been done. A few holes had been blown into the shops, but they were small and easily fixable. The brunt of damage was on the front steps of an apothecary, where broken glass was scattered and a few explosive ingredients had been thrown around. Sirius groaned, knowing this was done by a trained professional. "This is going to take a while" he thought. After about ten hours of Ivory's hostile attitude and having searched explicitly and turning up empty-handed, Sirius was about done. Looking up, he noticed the sun had long since gone down, meaning the Floo Network was closed for the night. But London was still crawling with people...meaning Apparition was also out of the question. Glancing at Ivory he saw he the same realization dawn on her. Frowning, she turned towards Sirius. "Guess that means we'll be staying a hotel, doesn't it?" Sirius smirked, "I knew you couldn't resist my perfect charm and rugged muscles." "Piss off." Ivory responded. "I could piss on you, if you'd prefer that." This particular comment resulted in a light slap to the back of Sirius's head. Ivory sighed with frustration and walked towards the nearest hotel, which happened to be a crappy, cheap Motel that smelled of cigarette butts and old postage stamps. "We need two rooms, one for me and one for him." Ivory said, pointing to Sirius who stood awkwardly behind her. "'M' sorry, ma'am. We on'y got one room available." The man at the front desk said. His voice sounded raspy and dry, as if he hadn't had water for the longest time. He was a thin man, maybe in his late 50s. His grey hair was balding, leaving the top of his head hairless. He wore a grey button up shirt and a faded purple tie. Ivory groaned and walked away from the counter. Sirius stepped up to the man masking his annoyance with an apologetic look. "We'll take it." He concurred. Sirius made the payments with the Muggle money they had procured from the Ministry. The old man looked back and forth between Ivory and Sirius, "Lady troubles?" Sirius looked back at Ivory, who was angrily grabbing his and her bags. He turned back to the man whose name tag read Joe, "Something like that." It wasn't until later that they came across yet another problem. It was around midnight and Ivory and Sirius were on opposite sides of the same bed. There had only been one King sized bed in the room, and after twenty minutes of arguing, they decided that they would share it on two terms. The first being neither of the could try anything with the other, the second being they wouldn't touch at all. No stray limbs, no outstretched hands, nothing. Ivory had fallen asleep easily, but Sirius had more trouble. The things his mind conjured up when the lights went out were horrifying. Images of his past plagued his eyes until he passed out from near exhaustion. His nightmares felt more alive than ever before. The floor of the cell was cold and dusty. Wind howled everywhere around him and he was sure he was going to die at any moment. Dementors swarmed him from every angle, breathing in the little fragments of his soul that he had left. He was tired, so terribly tired. Every try for oxygen was a fail, and his lungs were going to give at any moment. He closed his eyes and waited for death to claim him as his own, but death never came. The pain continued on. Every laboured intake of air ignited a new kind of pain in his body. There was so much pain, and Sirius didn't know if living like this was worth it anymore. And he knew that he would continue to live in laboured breaths and eternal pain. So Sirius opened his eyes. And he saw nothing but darkness. Sirius sat up and lept from the bed in an instant. He placed his back to the wall and sunk down, desperately trying to control his ragged breaths. His mind was racing, his heart pounded so hard in his chest that he could feel it in every part of his body. It was the only thing that reminded himself that he was awake, that he was a living, breathing soul out of Azkaban. That he was free. Unfortunately, his rush of movements cause Ivory to awaken as well, and she woke up howling. She reached to the lamp beside her, turning it on"What the bloody hell did you get up fo-" She stopped short when she saw his state. Sirius's hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He was huddled in a ball on the floor. He looked so broken and helpless, like the living, breathing representation of a wound that couldn't stop bleeding. Ivory's face softened when she took note of this and for the first time, she understood why he was the way he was. Sirius was a flirt. He was cheeky and charming. His jokes were not at all modest and he was such a bastard sometimes, but now she knew why. When Ivory first met Sirius in the lobby of the Leaky Cauldron, everyone stared at him. Everyone knew his name. He was Sirius Black; the man who killed his best-friend. Sirius Black; a man-whore. The type of guy to leave you waiting in the dust. Sirius Black; the man who is broken inside. Masking his pain was easy to do. Ivory understood why he had to do it. Sirius had two children to take care of. Why he chose to keep his player-like personality, she had no idea. It seemed a wise decision on his part. If someone is going to stereotype him as bad; if someone is going to spend their whole life thinking he's a murderer, a criminal, they're not going to change their minds just because he got himself clear. Because he was proven innocent. People are going to believe what they want to. Changing himself for the better opinion is a hard thing to do because he'll never have one hundred percent. It's a sad fact, but an important one. Sirius would never see the day when he wouldn't get odd glares on the street. The day he wouldn't get spat at. Twelve years in Azkaban isn't going to leave you without any damage. Seeing him on the floor, cradling himself with river like tears flowing down his cheeks caused a lump to form at Ivory's throat. She realised that she was part of the problem. She never gave him as much as a sideways glance. Sobs came out of Sirius's mouth and sounded so raw and feral Ivory knew his throat must be burning at each new cry that screamed it's way out. Ivory never noticed how long Sirius had been screaming for help. She felt awful. She felt like a traitor. Ivory carefully stepped out of bed and walked over to Sirius. She knelt beside him and gingerly took his hand in hers. Sirius recoiled almost instantly, which shocked Ivory. He didn't draw his hand back like he was in pain. It was like he didn't want her to hold it. Like he felt he didn't deserve to be comforted. Sirius had never felt more exposed than he did now. Vulnerability wasn't something he took lightly. Even as a child he like to feel strong, empowered, and in control. He wasn't used to not feeling like that until James and Lily died. It seemed as if his whole world came crashing down. Then the people blamed him. People he thought were his friends turned on him and he was seen a murderer. Azkaban taught him what vulnerability felt like, and to this day, more than twelve years later, he still hated it. Ivory gently pulled his hand in hers once more, whispering calming words to the man. This time, Sirius didn't draw back. Slowly, with each intricate thought flooding from Ivory's lips, his breaths returned to normal. The tears stop flowing down his cheeks and he felt secure again. Of course, when he regained steady thoughts, the only thing that occupied his mind was embarrassment. He stood with a hault and cleared his throat. "Sorry 'bout that." When he spoke, Sirius's voice sounded hollow, even to him. Ivory offered a small smile. "'S' okay." She kept her gentle tone. Sirius and Ivory stood across from each other for a few more moments in silence. When Sirius's eyes scanned the clock, he only felt more guilty about his night terror. It was 2:57 in the morning. "Um, we should get back to sleep." Sirius said, sheepishly. Ivory opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but dismissed the thought. She and Sirius crawled back into the bed, but neither went to sleep. Sirius faced one way and Ivory faced another, both thinking about what had just happened but neither saying anything about it. It would soon fade into nothingness as sleep overcame them, this time with no interruptions. Wooo, short little chapter. I was going to continue over to Gracie's life and what was going on, but i vouldn't think of a smooth transition from the incidents in this chapter. Anyways, next chapter should be longer. As always, thisisnotapalindrome