Sirius woke to the sounds of his wife, Marlene, readying herself for the day. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he noted that the sun hadn't yet risen. Neither of the Blacks were early risers.

Shit.

As he regained consciousness, the memory of last night's letter came back to him in flashes. Harry. Lines written with a black quill to the point his hand retained scars. Umbridge…

His poor godson was being persecuted even further. Didn't the boy have enough to worry about? Was a Dark Lord attempting (and possibly succeeding, Sirius didn't quite understand the particulars) to get inside his head not enough for one 15 year old to deal with?

He felt sick over what the cruel professor had done to Harry. No small amount of anger burned in his chest, but it was Marlene who was the real threat this time. Sirius had written to Dumbledore immediately and was going through the more conventional process of getting this witch sacked. But Marlene looked ready to hang the wretch up by her toes the minute she put down the letter.

Reckless. Irresponsible. Impulsive.

Those were some of the various words that had been used to describe the Blacks, both as a couple and as individuals. It wasn't an entirely inaccurate assessment, but Sirius contended they had other, more important traits.

Sirius would have given an eyeball to keep Marlene or Harry from getting a scratch. He'd die to protect his family. He felt sick with worry when they took unnecessary risks.

None of the little family mustered much regard for authority. Following orders was not a very Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (such that it was) thing to do. So he shouldn't have been surprised that Marlene was trying to sneak out of their flat before Sirius woke. It all added up.

He'd told her he didn't want her to go confront Umbridge.

She was of course, not going to listen.

She knew he'd worry himself sick so she wanted to spare him that as much as she could.

He was still confused, after all these years, how he could simultaneously feel as angry as an insulted hippogriff and yet more in love with her than the day they were wed. It was disconcerting. He really never got used to it.

He rolled over in bed and got an eye full of Marlene, fresh out of the shower.

"You can't just go attack people as a duck, Marlene."

"Hide and watch."

She pulled on her clothing in haste. The fact she'd hoped he would sleep through her departure was better left unacknowledged. He was up now. She finished with her buttons and zippers then leaned down to kiss Sirius, who was still sprawled out on the bed.

"I'll do no such thing! You're going to get yourself arrested."

"I will not. I have a plan. It's going to get me written into history books as a great hero. The most heroic of all ducks."

"You know it's deeply concerning when you say things like that."

Marlene smiled mischievously at her distractingly gorgeous husband. His body was a familiar sight now, but it was still an effort to hold back when he reached out to pull her back into bed. She wasn't falling for it. She was a woman with a mission. Not even an exceedingly handsome distraction was going to keep her from it.

Sirius conceded. He'd used the last of the tools at his disposal and knew better than to argue with his wife over her ill advised revenge plot any further. She was out for blood. It was probably safer for her to go in animagus form than to unleash her on Umbridge with a wand. How much damage could a tiny duck really do? They couldn't throw her in Azkaban for aggressively quacking at the horrible little ministry toad.

Marlene had never balked at a task she believed in because of a few rules standing in the way. From the moment she saw her Harry's most recent letter home, she knew that a little rule breaking would be necessary. She'd prefer to break Dolores Umbridge's neck. But she really didn't like her odds for getting away from that scot free.

Her godson had written straight away after the detention he served with the piss poor excuse for a Defense Against the Dark Arts the ministry had inflicted upon Hogwarts. More accurately, he had his dear friend Hermione draft a letter for him because the child couldn't even hold a quill after the sadistic punishment that vile toad had subjected him to.

Marlene had never carried a child of her body. She hadn't been averse to the idea, but it didn't look like it was in the cards. The world had not gotten itself in good enough shape at any point in the past 13 years for her to consider bringing a helpless and innocent baby into it.

For most of that time, she'd been focused on raising Harry. No one ever mistook her for his mum. He didn't look a thing like her. The white child with perennially messy black hair still held the title of "son" deep in Marlene Black's heart. She knew that her husband felt the same. It was their lot in life to avoid the subject.

It was not their lot in life to let amoral education interloping ministry worshipping scum get away with using a torture device on their boy. Surely a pen that drew blood from the back of the hand that held it would be considered a dark object? It had to be illegal.

But she was Cornelius Fudge's personal arse licker, so there was no way she'd be held to any consequences on that front.

Marlene's blood was boiling. It was reprehensible to use such an object on any child. But that child was HERS and Marlene was going to give the monster a dose of her own medicine.

Becoming an animagus was the best decision Marlene Black, who was still Marlene McKinnon back then, had ever made. It saved her life. It gave her her time to get that life back when she might not have survived the grief otherwise. It gave her a career.

It gave her the power to fuck with people who needed fucking with.

Marlene found the local duck population to be very sociable and never hesitate to lend a hand. Or a webbed foot and a wing.

Though the regular ducks had some sense that she wasn't really like them, they were friendly to her. Since Marlene was actually a bright and resourceful witch in a little duck body, she was able to impress the local flocks fairly easily.

She had an army of roughly 300 ducks by mid day. Dolores J. Umbridge was going to get it.

Her duck army had one very important human ally in one Minerva McGonagall. Minerva had talked to Marlene over the floo late into the night. She agreed to create a reason for Umbridge to be called out to the Quidditch Pitch at half four.

She wouldn't make it to the Quidditch Pitch.

Just past the womping willow a small golden-brown mallard hen commanded from behind her legion. The moment she spotted the little pink blob approaching she let out a loud quack.

She imagined herself screaming "CHAAARGE!" and that made it more satisfying.

The sound of webbed feet slapping the ground mixed with quacks of excitement were deafening. She watched as the flock ambushed the so-called professor.

Umbridge's first reaction, confusion, showed plainly on her face. But the water-fowl battalion gave her no leeway in time to digest her surroundings.

Her surroundings, at that point, were ducks on every side, encircling her and closing in.

She let loose a high pitched and very undignified shriek.

Good. Scream you evil hag. You don't mess with my Harry.

Marlene was mainly an observer of the event from the back and side of the action, rather than a participant. She'd planned it so that she'd minimize the risk of being identified by her markings. She was one of the most well known Animagus in the country, but no one could recognize a duck from the corner of their eye in flock of hundreds of other similar looking ducks.

The front lines had already closed in on Umbridge's ankles before she managed to throw a shield up.

Her shield faltered. Marlene quaked out another command, and the flock took flight with gusto straight into the horrible toad of a woman. Dolores Umbridge's hair would probably never recover. She'd find stray feathers on her person for weeks. She would hear quacks in the night and shiver with fear.

Marlene's work here was done.

When Kingsley Shacklebolt was sent out to question her on her whereabouts that Tuesday, Sirius covered for her without question.

"You two were home... all day?"

"That's right." Sirius nodded.

He liked Kingsley. He was glad they sent him instead of someone unpleasant. He knew they wouldn't send Tonks or Mad-eye so Kingsley was about as good as they could hope for. It was perhaps slightly unfortunate that he'd have to endure what the Blacks could dole out when under pressure.

"I'm expected to believe that you know nothing about the 300 ducks that attacked the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts this past Tuesday?"

"Well, I read about it in The Quibbler. Mr. Lovegood seems to believe there were nargles involved. Very odd indeed."

"Marlene I'm not buying it. You're a duck."

"Only sometimes. I am not currently a duck, as you can see. And when I do turn into a duck, it's just one little duck. I can't turn into 300 of them. That's quite impressive if someone could though! Do you think that's what happened?"

Marlene played wide eyed innocence more convincingly than should have been possible, considering she was as guilty as a niffler leaving a jewelry shop. It was hard to suspect the personification of sunshine of any sort of malice.

Kingsley narrowed his eyes at Marlene and then at Sirius. The ministry didn't pay him enough for this.

"You had no occasion to leave the house?"

"I don't think we even had occasion to put on clothing that day Kingsley. Our Harry's only been back at school for a few weeks now. We both had the day off. We're young yet!"

Sirius had learned long ago that the best way to get someone to stop asking questions is to tell them more than they want to know in one area. It didn't particularly matter if it was true or not. It only had to be more in detail than the nosy party would have preferred. Gastrointestinal oversharing worked as well.

"That's more information than was necessary."

"If you were married to this fine specimen you'd spend whole Tuesdays in bed as well." Marlene chimed in, laying it on super thick.

She was not only on board for this strategy, but also clearly having fun in the processes. Sirius couldn't even find it in him to be mad.

"Now Marlene, we weren't in bed all of Tuesday, if you recall. There was the shower… the armchair… the dining room table… am I forgetting anything? Oh right that sofa Kingsley's sitting on."

Kingsley stood up abruptly. Like a puppet on a string. This was both fun and easy. Sirius wondered if he could make a career out of making people uncomfortable until they left.

"Ok then I'm going to go."

"Alright then, we'll see you around Kingsley. Good luck!"

Marlene was all smiles and cheer as Kingsley Shacklebolt let himself out.

After he was safely out of range, she let herself fall onto Sirius's lap and broke out into side splitting laughter.

"Thanks." She manages to breathe out between giggles.

"I couldn't very well let my little duck get arrested."

She was about to open her mouth to attempt to form words. She wanted to tell her husband that she loved him. Before she could utter a single syllable his mouth was on hers.

For that moment Marlene felt like the luckiest duck in the whole world.