Frigus . Sirius Black (Mortem BOOK 2)

Chapter seventy

May 7th, 1980 - Dumbledore's office 

Sirius had been at Dumbledore's office for twenty minutes now, pacing around and trying to ignore the Phoenix staring at him from where he was perched on. He was waiting for Dumbledore, who was in the middle of dinner judging by the hour. Sirius himself was hungry, extremely so, but he wasn't worried about that. Experience over the past two weeks had taught him that most things he ate would come back up a few minutes after, Lily had to keep brewuing nurtient potions to ensure he wouldn't faint in the middle of work. 

He hated how familiar this felt, he hated how he had been through his before. Standing in this office, pacing, waiting for news on Nephera... he had been through it before, and he was going through it again. 

He didn't want to be here, he held to admiration nor trust for Dumbledore, but he had no other option. Lily kept telling him she was making process, that were was a solution, she just hadn't uncovered it yet, but he could see right through that. The redhead didn't have anything, she was hitting dead end after dead end, despite not wanting to tell him. Dumbledore may be an ass, but he was a brilliant wizard alongside that, if there was a solution, Dumbledore would be able to come up with it, Sirius was only hoping he'd be able to do so fast. 

He knew everyone was worried about Nephera, he knew they all wanted her back, she was their family as much as she was his, but sometimes he felt as though he was alone in this. Everyone else seemed to think that the only issue was Nephera's memory being gone, but it wasn't. The biggest issue was Riddle's paranoia. Nephera was alone, all alone and surrounded by Death Eaters, Riddle and her father. They could get paranoid at any moment and kill her, and he couldn't do anything about that. 

Every day, he tried contacting her through the bracelet, but it was no use. She had her mental shields up, no one would be breaching through those any time soon. He had thought of everything, sending her a patronus, sending her a letter, sending Kreacher in, but there was always the risk of someone seeing, and if they saw that they were trying to contact her, they would kill her. 

He shuddered at the thought, and shook his head. 

He tried to keep telling himself that this was Nephera, she wouldn't go down without a fight no matter what, but that was getting harder to believe every day that passed. 

He heard the door opening from behind him, but he didn't turn around, "I never did figure out how you keep sneaking in and out of this castle without me realizing, Mr. Blackm" stated Dumbledore, "Ever since you were in school, I knew you did it, but I could never realize how," 

Sirius didn't reply to that, "You know why I'm here," 

The older wizard sat down behind his desk, "Are there any news on Ms. Winchester?" 

"No, no one's seen her, no one's heard of her," he sighed, "I'm here to ask you to help Lily. She's tried her best but she can't figure it out on her own, she's hit a dead end," 

"Mr. Black, I truly want-" 

"Respect me enough not to lie to me, Dumbledore," said Sirius with a small laugh, "You don't like Nephera, you don't care for her. But I know you care about two things, winning this war, and yourself. You know as well as I do that if Riddle puts her to use, we're done, not just the Order, but the entire wizarding world. And more importantly, you know she'll kill you. The only thing keeping her from doing that before was the fact that you were on the same side," 

He hung his head down, taking a deep breath, "Figure out a way to break the spell, if not her for her, then do it for yourself," 

Dumbledore took in a deep breath. He knew long before this day where Sirius's loyalties lay, but it didn't make stomaching the truth any easier. He looked into the boy's eyes, that grey which had once shown with mischief looked so dull in comparison. He loved Nephera, truly, deeply, all-encompassingly, a blind man could see it clear as day, something which didn't make what he was about to say any easier, "Mr. Black," he spoke gently, "There is no cure-"