Blackbird Fly

Chapter 23

"But what should I wear?" Sirius whined, shuffling through the clothes he had packed for the holidays. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Why on Earth does it matter?" Severus drawled. He pulled a black jumper out from his clothes—it was his favorite, soft and warm. It was a secret of his—that love for such warmth and softness; he relished the way it felt against his skin.

"But this is the big one! I've never met the family before, and I've got to make a good impression. I want them to like me," Sirius confessed, tossing a pair of grey trousers and his favorite Converse trainers aside to wear. He just had to find a shirt.

It was New Years' Eve, which meant that it was time for the Chases' annual New Year Party, an affair that went until the wee hours of the morning, and at which Isolde and Matt's band always played. There would be friends and family—Isolde mentioned a great deal of cousins on Donna's side—and while Sirius was very aware of how one should behave at a social gathering, he had never done it as the hostess's boyfriend.

Thankfully, in a gesture that was meant to embrace Isolde's fast-approaching entrance into the Wizarding world and her family's desire to remain a part of her life, an invitation to the party was sent to the Potter house along with Christmas gifts from Isolde and Sirius. While Mr. and Mrs. Potter had declined in lieu of a quiet night together during the holidays (a rarity), James, Lily, Remus and Peter had responded that they would be delighted to attend (so long as they weren't pulled on the bloody stage, that is).

Severus began tugging on a pair of black boots (it wasn't as though he was trying to impress anyone tonight, after all) as Sirius put on his trousers and tied his shoes. Isolde came downstairs as he began digging for a good shirt to wear, chuckling at how image-conscious he was. "Sirius, love, you need to be dressed soon. We've got to set up." She shooed him away from his things, digging through them until she found a red jumper. She tossed it to him, saying, "Red brings out your eyes."

Once he'd tugged it over his head, Isolde began working to clear up the room. "Toss your things in my closet—we use the downstairs for the band, and I certainly can't have beds and all lying about. We've got to have room for people to dance." Quicker than a flick of the wand, Severus, Sirius and Helene's things were sent to Isolde's closet with the promise that they would be found again. The boys Transfigured the beds into sofas as Isolde conjured a nice coffee table for the downstairs seating area they were creating.

Hermione called downstairs. "Umm . . . Zelda, Matt's got the band here and they're anxious to set up. Is everything ready down there?"

"Just about! I think there might still be some biscuits up there if they want any.

"Besides," she added darkly, "it gives us more time to ensure this place is magic-free to the outside observer."

A quick check and the removal of moving photographs, Isolde's magic mirror tucked into her school bag and the bathroom cabinet (filled with various potions) properly locked and warded with a Muggle-Repelling charm, Isolde called back up that, yes, the band could come down to start setting up for the party.

An hour later, the stage was set and Donna brought down a tray of sandwiches while Doc was finishing up his prized meatballs and some of the other nibbles they would be serving that evening—little dessert and appetizer type things. Many of the guests would also be supplying food and drink, and the preparation wasn't far beyond the norm for a large Order meeting in Hermione's normal time.

The Neanderthals, as Isolde affectionately called them, set the stage quickly, the microphones and amps and the drums. There was a drummer, the rhythm guitarist, Matt was the bassist and Isolde sang and played guitar; every so often a keyboardist would join them. Aside from the band, there were groupies—namely, Matt's on-again-off-again girlfriend and a few other friends and significant others.

"So, Izzy," Jeff, the drummer (who now preferred to go by his stage name—Jeffrey Danger) began, "what have you been up to at that weird school of yours?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at the "weird school" crack while Sirius and Hermione could barely keep from laughing when Isolde cringed at the nickname. She responded politely, all things considered, saying, "Well, I would explain it to you, but the ramifications of my doing so could be far-reaching, and I think the school's philosophies and core principles and curriculum would be a bit out of reach."

Matt snorted. "Right, Zelda."

"You know as well as I that it's a bit hard to explain, and you won't get another word out of me," Isolde sniffed. "I did, however, bring some of my mates home."

Introductions were made over cold cut sandwiches and sodas before the band strapped on their instruments and began warming up for the last quarter hour before the party. A few people arrived early, and those in the know went straight for the basement, where a record player had also been set up for the interim between sets for the band. The music for the earlier part of the evening was jazz; the band wouldn't play until eight or so, but there were a few people dancing anyway, and Doc and Donna certainly could cut a rug.

Hermione watched them dancing wistfully, Severus standing with his arms around her. "What is it, love?" he whispered.

"They look so happy," she said, her eyes sparkling. She'd never been happier, not now that Severus had promised her to him someday, but she'd never felt guiltier, knowing that this meant she had taken part of his youth away. He should have been spending his time with another girl, someone who could stay with him.

His hot breath caressed her ear. "We will be. Someday. Soon.

"I love you and you love me. That's the end of the matter as far as I can see."

Her breath hitched. "I wish life were so simple. But I suppose that has to be enough right now."

The band interrupted them, the record player scratching a little as it was turned off. People applauded, and for the first time, they noticed just how crowded the basement had gotten. Sirius sat uncomfortably on the couch, still waiting for the now-late James, Lily, Remus and Peter. A few pretty girls—cousins of Isolde's—sat with him, one of them crossing her legs in a very short skirt to flash a bit of thigh.

"I don't think we've met," the first one said, extending a hand. "I'm Jacqueline."

"Sirius Black," he replied. "Is something wrong with your eye?" He wasn't stupid, he knew she was batting her eyelashes, but he didn't really want to encourage her. Or the others.

"That's such an unusual name," the girl sitting on his other side said. "My name is Cynthia, but you can call me Cindy if you want."

She tried to put her hand on his knee, but he jumped off the couch, grateful to see his friends arrive. James had a possessive arm around Lily, but Remus was already eyeing the room.

"Merlin!" he breathed. "I didn't think there would be so many people here. And the girls . . ." He trailed off, making a crude sort of gesture. Sirius laughed.

"Mate, if you're interested, there are two over there who seem particularly eager for male company." Sirius pointed in their direction, and they waved back at him, smiling. One of them cocked her head and gave Remus the come-hither finger.

"I believe duty calls, then," he said, sauntering over to her and striking up a conversation.

"Behave, Moony!" James called after him, but he was already on the hunt, and it was nice to see shy Remus out of his shell.

Isolde took the stage then and her voice was husky and soft as she began. "I will wait for this moment when our lips collide and almost stop the Earth. You're in my arms tonight."

She caught Hermione's eye, and she caught the message, dragging Severus out onto the dance floor. Her arms twined around his neck, and his went around her lower back, just barely grazing her bum. She ground her hips into his and he smirked as he lowered his lips to hers.

Sirius, meanwhile, watched the couples on the floor, Remus leading Cindy out for a dance. He didn't notice Jacqueline strut towards him with a predatory glint in her eye as he took a drink of the Guinness Peter had brought down from the garage for him.

"Hello again." She trailed her hand down his arm.

"Hey." He drained the rest of the glass, smiling when Isolde winked at him from onstage during a slow song. He loved the way her voice was so husky when she sang, but it still seemed as clear as a bell.

"Great band, huh?" Jacqueline said, turning him towards her and her winning smile. She was exactly the kind of girl he would have gone for before Isolde, her eyes big and blue like hers used to be, and an ample, well-displayed bosom. Her lips were lush and pouty, her hair a soft blonde.

That was how he knew he loved Isolde. He barely spared Jacqueline a thought as she flirted so desperately with him.

"Yeah," he said, paying far more attention to the way Isolde's hips swayed with the beat, even as she was playing. She looked fantastic—a tight black skirt with marvelously torn fishnet stockings, motorcycle boots and a pale blue t-shirt that looked like a bad tuxedo. Her hair was longer and almost shaggy, and there was a cool sheen of sweat on her face.

"It's awfully hot," Jacqueline said, fanning herself a little. Her dress (particularly around the chest area) would have said otherwise to him, but then again, the sleeves of his jumper were at his elbows.

"Happens with such a crowd of people, I guess. Especially with everyone dancing and all." He could see Helene and Severus, and he didn't think he would be so happy to see such love between them. After all, how long had Sirius considered Severus a slimy git? He wasn't so bad after all, Sirius mused, and Helene brings that out of him. Do I do the same for Isolde, or does she do the same for me?

"I was thinking that you and I should go dance."

"Hmm . . . I'm sorry, I was, err, caught up in the music. It's so good, y'know?" That would work as an excuse. Not that he was lying about the music or anything. The beat had picked up, and he liked the tempo—steady and rolling, like a train.

"I fell into a burnin' ring of fire. Down, down, down and the flames went higher," Isolde sang, seeming to look straight at him. Her eyes popped, line with dark kohl; her lips were a deep, entrancing red.

"It's just Johnny Cash. It's not like it's original material or anything."

He looked at her intensely now, finally being drawn into the conversation. He didn't realize it was mainly because Jacqueline had marginalized any of his Zelda's abilities as a musician.

"Most of the stuff she's done so far was original work. Her songs are brilliant! Besides, can you do that?" he asked, motioning to the band.

"I can sing. I just don't sing in front of people," Jacqueline sniffed. "It's not all that hard."

"Can you sing classical things?" When she shook her head, he rolled his eyes. "She's classically trained. I've heard it." It was true. She'd had a voice lesson earlier that week, and he and the other two had sat outside in the hallway, listening to Isolde work through a rather challenging aria she was still perfecting.

"Look, do you want to dance or what? Because I don't want to stand here to talk about Isolde," Jacqueline said. "You're obsessed or something."

The set would be over after the current song, this one a particular favorite of his. She had written it at the top of the Astronomy tower one night when they were together, watching shooting stars. She had been in a dour mood that day when the sexual tension elephant enjoyed capering around them. She was so upset about something she had Seen in Divination (not that Isolde would tell him what it was), and the only thing he felt he could do was be there for her and try to cheer her up. She was like Severus that way; her burden was her burden, dammit, and she would carry it alone. Stupid Slytherins.

"From up here, the city lights burn like a thousand miles of fire, and I'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day," Isolde sang, almost screaming the last two lines to finish the first set. She put her guitar down on its stand before stepping off the little stage, heading straight for Sirius.

He smiled and opened his arms to her. "Brilliant set, Zelda."

Isolde smirked a little when she saw her dear cousin's face—Sirius didn't have a monopoly on the cousin-hating. "Jacqueline," she began, hugging her, "it's lovely to see you. I see you've met Sirius, my boyfriend from school."

"Oh," Jacqueline replied, obviously a bit shocked by the revelation. "I didn't realize. So, have you, erm . . . known each other long?"

Isolde could only hear the catty part of her brain snorting in disbelief, but she smiled and put on a good show for her cousin's sake. When she was finally kind enough to give Jacqueline a way out on the conversation, Sirius leaned down to nuzzle at her neck, saying, "What have you told people about school, for Merlin's sake? She looked at me like I was a freak or something."

Isolde smiled. "Doc said I had been offered a place at a boarding school—very selective—and that I would only be home for the holidays and summers. It was either that I was really smart or talented or something or that I was emotionally disturbed. You decide."

He snorted. "Good to know." He looked up to see Remus in deep conversation with Cindy. "Does she know?" Sirius asked, motioning to them.

"Probably. But I think Remus can play it cool and change her mind. Funny, I wouldn't have pegged her for his type."

"Ah, but Isolde, my love, who can say with these things?" His arms closed around her waist, and she caressed his cheek.

"No. I suppose no one can. I don't think anyone saw us coming. I didn't." At the confused look on his face, she continued, blushing. "I just never thought you would go for someone like me. Don't get me wrong here, I'm thrilled you did, but I wouldn't have seen it coming the way you saw James and Lily or the way I saw Severus and Helene. Probably the best damn surprise I ever got."

"Do you know what made me attracted to you in the first place?" he asked, whispering in her ear. She shook her head.

"It was the way you stuck up for Severus. Your spirit. The way your eyes flashed when you were angry. Then, you in the woods . . . I had to know more."

She smiled, and in a rare moment, she captured his lips with hers, and he could feel her smiling as they kissed.

Hermione and Severus stayed with one another. He didn't like to let her go—to watch her walk away, and he could be awfully jealous when she was gone. Tonight, he felt like he couldn't take his eyes off her—the way her dress moved over her smooth body and her soft curves. It didn't feel like he had known her for so short a time, or else he wouldn't have done anything as foolhardy as he had on Christmas. Rather, it was more like she had known him, somehow able to intuit his pet peeves and his bad habits. Helene knew him far better than he knew her—and that was okay.

He didn't know how, but that was okay.

Desperately—somehow—he wanted to trust her.

Badly.

"I'm going to get myself a drink. Would you like one?" Helene asked, her hand trailing down his arm and her eyes meeting his, falsely innocent.

Severus nodded, mute—suddenly shy.

He very closely watched Helene walk away, deciding as her hips swayed that high heels were a very good thing indeed. Unfortunately, he got caught.

"Merlin, Severus, see anything you like?" Lily teased, unfazed by the withering glare he sent her way.

"She's my bloody girlfriend, and I'm not the only one who enjoyed it," he retorted, casting a meaningful glance at James.

"I was only joking, Severus. Remember how I did that?" she said easily as James drifted over to Isolde and Sirius. Lily rolled her eyes as they found the wonders of Pop Rocks and Coke, James's eyes wide at the tingling sensation on his tongue, Sirius guffawing loudly at the sight.

Severus looked confused. Lily explained the matter, saying, "Urban legend says that if you mix Pop Rocks and soda, it'll explode. Sometimes I wish it were true."

Severus snorted. "Of course it wouldn't be that easy." Sirius had just tried the combination and was currently giggling hysterically before kissing Isolde enthusiastically to "share the sensation."

"They are cute, though," Lily said wistfully. Severus merely grunted, and she continued unabashed. "Think about it, Sev. With all the tension and the murders and everything that's been going on, it's nice to see that Gryffindors and Slytherins can still get along, y'know? I mean, I don't think you're a slimy git because you're a Slytherin, and you don't think I'm a bleeding-heart with my heart on my sleeve."

"I do, actually," he said coldly. Then he smiled. "But I like you anyway."

In moment-killing fashion, "Macho Man" came on, blasting from the record player. Remus promptly made his apologies to the girl he was with (Severus didn't know her name, but guessed that Remus stood a chance of getting lucky) before darting over to James and Sirius, all of whom started their own special Marauders' party on the dance floor.

Isolde joined Severus and Lily, and all three of them watched as boyfriends and enemies . . . well, there were no words to describe it. Their facial expressions—a queer mix of shock, confusion, amusement and embarrassment—said more than enough as they watched the boys boogie to the Village People.

Isolde was the first one to speak. "You can cut the homoerotic tension with a knife. Or is that just me?"

Lily clapped her hands over her mouth while Severus broke down in unreserved laughter, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. Helene showed up with the drinks as they were still giggling like the schoolgirls only two of the three were, a puzzled look on her face. When the situation was explained, her eyes lit up with mirth, and she fought valiantly to stifle her own laughter as another, very similar incident popped into her mind.

"You think that's bad—you never saw Severus dancing like that!" He immediately pinked, but she plowed on, explaining the way Isolde and she had bullied the boys into cleaning house, and the way the girls found them—dancing with brooms and singing into hairbrushes.

"That's perfect!" Lily gasped between breaths. She simply couldn't control her laughter.

Severus glowered at all of them. "When you're done making fun of me—" he began sharply, but Helene leaned up (she was only a few inches shorter than he in her heels) and kissed him straight on the mouth, effectively stifling any further complaints. When she pulled away, there was a goofy sort of smile on his face.

A strong bass chord sounded and Isolde scampered off—"We're about to do another set!"—leaving Severus, Lily and Hermione standing together on the edge of the dance floor, chatting amiably until "Macho Man" ended and the boys returned, Remus among them, as Cindy had apparently run off somewhere else.

"Where's Peter?" James asked. "I haven't seen him, and he was here with us."

"It's crowded," Sirius replied, casting an eye around the room. "He's around somewhere."

In fact, Peter was trying to chat up a group of Isolde's cousins, Jacqueline and Cindy among them. He was waiting for the signal to come, having been told he would know it when he saw it. The room continued to fill with his associates, and he could only assume there would be more in the upstairs part of the house. It was good, he knew. Very good.

The more there were, the more likely they would succeed.

Several hours later, the party had barely begun to lag as the New Year loomed closer and closer. Isolde's voice was husky and low, even when she spoke, having performed multiple sets; she rather enjoyed it, referring to it as her "sexy voice." In fact, she was talking more often than usual.

The band was taking a break as the last five minute countdown began. The room was listening to a broadcast taking place near Big Ben so that they could hear the clock chiming when midnight came. Sirius had a small bouquet of mistletoe prepared for the occasion, and couples were already pairing up: Severus with Helene, James with Lily, Doc with Donna . . . even Remus and Cindy had found one another, if only for a brief New Year's kiss.

Once the song they were playing was over, Isolde stepped off the stage and wound her way through the crowd to Sirius, immediately throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her easily, holding her for just a moment too long, letting her linger . . .

"Last minute, everyone!" Doc called, and he hugged his children before going to his wife as the seconds ticked away.

Hermione pulled Severus to her, running her hands through his hair.

Lily's cheek rested against James's chest, and they were still dancing to the soft music behind the broadcasters on the radio.

Isolde was just gazing into Sirius's eyes as he looked into hers.

Cindy was just smiling at Remus as one of his fingers traced the rim of his glass; she knew it wasn't a forever thing, but she liked him well enough.

Donna took her husband's hand, and they surveyed the life they had made together; for a moment, the sadness of his first wife would come into his eyes, but Donna could share if she had to.

In short, it was almost perfect: a brilliant sea of faces and people scattered together like flowers in a garden. The electricity of the moment pulsed through them as they waited, breath held, for the first stroke of midnight.

It came, Big Ben striking the hour away. Doc and Donna shared a lingering kiss—just a brush of the lips, soft eyes opening and brief smiles. Lily and James were passionate, the kind of kiss they would share at their wedding and would require a bit of throat clearing to end; for now, it might be perfect. Cindy and Remus just shared a chaste peck at the lips, but it could have promised something more had she lived. Severus took control of the kiss, cradling Hermione's face between cool hands; hers grasped him tightly—they kissed like their hearts were breaking—like they were desperate to stay together, or maybe it was Hermione's imagination (she never could tell). Sirius paused for the briefest moment, laying a hand on Isolde's cheek and stroking it with his thumb before he pulled it away; just as she missed the contact, he kissed her, plain and simple—it was as bold as he was, but soothing, too.

"Auld Lang Syne" was playing on the radio, and there was dancing—it was Sirius and Isolde's first dance of the evening.

"That was," she said slowly, "my first New Year's kiss."

Sirius was only too happy to give her a second—and third—and fourth.

Severus and Hermione barely seemed to part, flowing from kiss to dance smoothly; her head rested on his shoulder, and his cheek nuzzled her hair.

"I never want this to end," he said softly—so much so she thought she'd imagined it. "I'm glad it doesn't have to."

Hermione met his eyes then, just for a moment before saying, will all the sincerity in her heart, "I love you."

Jeffrey Danger—the drummer—waited until the end of "Auld Lang Syne" to call Isolde back up, saying, "Izzy," into the microphone. Matt watched her pull away from Sirius, him giving her a long kiss on the cheek.

"You two are awfully serious," he whispered as she strapped her guitar back on. Isolde blushed, and Matt quickly added, "I'm glad. He's good for you, kid."

"Ta very much. Now, what are we doing?" Isolde asked.

This had been planned out, and no one noticed Jeffrey's glazed eyes as he suggested the song. Matt began with it on bass, and Isolde chimed in. It was a more political piece, inspired by the current guerilla warfare racking the Wizarding World, and it played so well into the theatricality so loved by Lord Voldemort.

It produced a strong reaction—brought the year in with a bang, so to speak.

Only one person was truly horrified as he listened. Severus Snape seriously wondered if Isolde was nurturing some kind of death wish.

"When you kill me," she sang, punctuating it with guitar chords, "do it slowly when we've come undone! When you kill me, please do it slowly. Send a message to the world!"

Then came a guitar solo, and it was the perfect time to strike. Without warning, provocation—without even sound, skull-masked wizards seemed to appear out of the woodwork, and it wasn't until Matt slumped over onstage that people realized just what was happening.

Isolde took one look at her brother's body—there was no other word for it, he had to be dead, hit by a jet of green light—and shouted into the microphone: "Run!"

Panic ensued, and wands were drawn in a flash. Some of the guests were lucky and made it upstairs before it was too late—upstairs was safe and good. Sirius tried blasting a few holes in the walls, but it was no good—the basement was entirely underground, and there was virtually no way out except the door at the top of the stairs, and that was currently blocked by the one thing that could sabotage Hermione's time in the past.

Lord Voldemort was descending the stairs, examining the carnage already wreaked by his Death Eaters. There was Matt, dead on the stage, and there were others—Remus's Cindy, and Isolde's aunt, a neighbor woman, Doc and Donna—gone far before they were even missed in the chaos, but still together. Some of the girls—Jacqueline, for one—were simply gone, abducted in the night.

It was a show of strength and power—a flex of the Dark Lord's growing muscles, and a way to demonstrate his growing armies and audacity.

He waded into the fray, and some of the Muggles were able to escape up the stairs and away from the attacks. The teenage wizards fought bravely, but even as they tried, it was a losing battle—there were simply too many of them, and with only the one exit, the stage was set for a massacre.