AN - Apologies for the long wait! The last couple months have been, in a word, mental. I wrote this chapter with the potential to split in two but after such a long wait I thought it might be best to just get it all out there!

Thanks so much to everyone who waited patiently and everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I've been eager for the story to get to this point!

Black Sheep

10. Ouroboros

The old manor house had become familiar to him in recent times. It was not often that Voldemort's inner circle convened here, and not long since he had been accepted into it. Despite this budding familiarity, however, he had no idea where it was that they were gathering. The Dark Lord was secretive, even with his followers, and required everyone to apparate to an area of the grounds shrouded by trees.

Regulus would have given anything to know the location, to be able to provide the Order with such valuable information.

'Regulus, my darling,' greeted Bellatrix as he stepped into the dining room, with its long oak table and its high, stony walls. She made a big show of kissing him on the cheek before guiding him over to his chair - a chair he knew he was only awarded because its previous occupant had perished.

Bellatrix was his eldest female cousin, and the one to have inherited the Black looks down to the detail. Pale skin, inky black hair and eyes of cold, marble grey. Narcissa had inherited the blonde of her mother's line, where Andromeda, despite sharing in Bellatrix's beauty, had settled somewhere in the middle. Of course it was Bellatrix that brought his aunt and uncle the most pride. Married into the Lestranges, Voldemort's most trusted servant. Regulus would not lie; she had played a large part in why he had signed up, why he sat here now in Death Eater robes, feeling more out of place than he had at the Order table.

'Good evening,' Voldemort greeted as the remaining members took their seats. Lucius Malfoy was there, as was Evan Rosier, along with Bellatrix, her husband and her brother-in-law. Even Severus Snape had found his way to the inner circle, along with his old school friends, Jeremiah Avery and Titus Mulciber.

'It pleases me to see that you have all answered my call,' The Dark Lord continued.

'My Lord,' said Lucius. 'It was an honour to receive it.'

Regulus always sat at these meetings as though there were a rod up his back, as though his spine was stiff and the tall, hard back of the chair was drawing his shoulders towards it. It was how his mother had taught him to sit in honoured company. Mostly, he did it out of fear these days.

The stone walls were bare and bathed in shadow, the only light coming from candles that hung low above their heads. There were no artefacts on any surface, no personal stamp on the place. It felt as though they were squatting, as though they sat in a dungeon, not a rich, luxurious home.

'I trust you are all familiar with your brothers' failure at St. Mungo's,' Voldemort said.

There was a ripple of anxiety around the table. No-one had taken that news well.

'My Lord, I shall lead the search for Klein myself,' offered Bellatrix.

'I admire your eagerness, Bellatrix, but I fear that Klein is beyond our reach now. There was a chance, certain people let it slip through their fingers.'

'Hear it wasn't a total loss though,' snickered Avery. 'That mudblood got what was coming to her.'

There was a general murmur of agreement that sent chills through Regulus's bones. He was completely disinterested in Mary Macdonald, wanted nothing to do with her, but he had seen the effect her attack had on other members of the Order. Sirius had been moodier than ever, had even submitted his brother to an interrogation. He'd never seen him so riled, or so upset. Regulus never wanted to see him like that again. It made him feel cold and sick to contemplate what had happened that night.

'A move that was perhaps unwise,' Regulus said. If anything was unwise, it was his speech. Even the Dark Lord's eyes turned to him.

'Not getting a bit soft for them, are you Black?' sneered Mulciber. 'You remember that girl from school. Made me sick-'

'With how she was always beating you?' Regulus shot back. 'In exams, at Quidditch. And that time you tried to curse her in the hallway, couldn't even manage that, could you?'

Mulciber jumped to his feet but Voldemort held up a hand calmly and the colour drained from the Death Eater's face. Sheepish, he sank back into his seat without another word.

'We are waiting for an explanation, Regulus,' the Dark Lord said. There was a threat in his voice that he did not attempt to veil.

'The girl is being seen as a martyr, my Lord,' Regulus explained. 'It turned our failure into a double blow.'

His heart pounded in his ears, but, much to his surprise, the Dark Lord nodded.

'Our youngest member has a point,' Voldemort spoke. 'We need to be sending messages, not creating heroes. I trust that the rest of you can be trusted to complete your tasks efficiently and with the utmost care?'

A murmur of 'yes, my Lord' passed around the table.

'Regulus,' Voldemort continued. 'Tell me, how go your dealings with your brother? I understand the two of you are still in contact.'

Bellatrix shifted where she sat, and Lucius cast a razor sharp look at him.

'He still does not trust me,' Regulus lied. 'Though our relationship is improving. I believe that in time he will open up to me. I am utterly convinced that he has ties to the Order of the Phoenix, and to Albus Dumbledore himself.'

'Very well. Continue with your efforts. Progress can never be forced.'

Regulus was pleased that he left it at that.

The rest of the meeting droned on as usual. Duties were assigned, reports were given, and before an hour was up they were on their way back to the grounds, back to their homes.

Regulus hung back a little, not wanting to get caught up with the older members. Some of them hated him, believed him to be too young to be in such good favour with the Dark Lord. He didn't care. He hated them equally, and only wished that he could send a curse or two their way without repercussion.

He was almost at the final door, could smell the night air, when someone spoke from the shadows.

'The Dark Lord has more faith in you than I do.'

Regulus turned, and almost jumped out of his skin. Mere inches behind him stood Severus Snape, an equally disliked member of the congregation. Regulus had not liked him much in school, liked him even less now that classes were over.

'What do you want, Snape?' he asked. He thought that he hid his surprise quite well. And for all the height Snape had on him, Regulus could not feel less intimidated if he had been wearing Minerva McGonagall's tartan dressing gown.

'You forget that I know you,' Snape said. 'I know your brother too.'

'We are of a remarkable family.'

Snape scowled. It was not a look that suited him well.

'Whose side are you on, Regulus?'

'The right one.'

'You think you're smart? I know you know more than you're letting on. Hiding information from the Dark Lord...not a wise move.'

He was trying to threaten him. Perhaps Snape believed that he held some power over him, could use it to weasel his way closer to the Dark Lord.

But Regulus knew things about Snape too, knew exactly where to hit and how much pressure to apply.

'You're a half-blood, Snape,' he sneered. 'A half-blood who is hopelessly in love with a mudblood.'

Snape twitched, as though ready to draw his wand and attack.

'You don't know what you are talking about.'

'Oh yes, I do.' Regulus had him, he knew it. 'I know you still hold a torch for Lily Evans. Well, it's Lily Potter now, isn't it?'

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously and his lips curled.

'Now listen here-'

'No, you listen, Sev. You need to leave things you don't understand alone. Yes, I know that Sirius is part of the Order. I also know that Evans is too. I've been in her house. Maybe I'm protecting my brother by staying quiet, but I'm protecting her too. Unless, of course, you'd rather I "do the right thing"?'

Snape had nothing to say to that. And now Regulus had something over him, and both of them knew it. For now, they had reached an impasse.

'She's fighting?'

Regulus nodded.

'And that girl in the hospital? That's her best friend. So she's not our biggest fan right now.'

There were so many letters, most of them from the same few people. Mary's owl snoozed peacefully on the backrest of a dining chair as she sat across the table, staring down at the remaining envelopes.

Mary, read one.

As this is my fourth letter this week I'm going to assume that you're just ignoring them at this point and Denzel isn't getting lost. We're all worried about you.

Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail and Marlene are coming round on Saturday. We'd all love it if you could be there.

Love always,
Prongs

With a heavy sigh, she pushed it aside. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his, or anyone else's concerns, she just thought that there were much better uses of her friends' time.

She couldn't handle it any more and left the dining table. The house had seemed empty ever since her parents left, but never more so than it had the past week.

Her parents didn't even know about her injuries. There was, she decided, nothing to gain in letting them know. They'd only worry, perhaps even want to come home, and that would just put them in danger. She missed them terribly, but she would much rather they be safe and a million miles away than here and in constant peril.

What would her father have done if he were there? He was a kind man, but did not take threats to his family lightly. Mary was his only daughter and he doted upon her. Her brother was no different; he had always taken it upon himself to protect his little sister, had looked after her through most of her primary school tenure. Even when he went to Muggle school and she was admitted to Hogwarts, things between them never changed. Now he too was halfway across the world, on an engineering course somewhere in Canada, paying bi-monthly visits to their parents.

Her mother would have fretted and worried. She was a doctor, like Mary's father, and would no doubt have taken it upon herself to care for her as a patient.

Mary shook her head. It was painful to even think about them these days. Sometimes she thought that Lily didn't know how lucky she was, having her family so close, even if they didn't always get on.

And the walls of her family home closed in on her frequently. The dark corners seemed darker, the hallways quieter. From the shadows sprung fear and uncertainty, and out of the silence whispered toxicity. How many days had she spent beneath her covers, too scared to sleep for the nightmares but to afraid to remain awake through knowledge that reality wasn't much better? She'd lost count of the times she'd cried, and it never made her feel any better. Cooking was a struggle and she was sure she had lost weight. Of course, it was all difficult with one arm in a sling. The hospital knew that, and had given her an indefinite period of leave to "recover". Even the Order had given her a break from her duties, for similar reasons.

Truthfully, she had never felt more useless in her life.

There was a loud knock on the door, sudden enough to make her jump. She shouldn't have worried, really; there were enough wards around her house that even her friends had difficulty visiting sometimes.

Mary heaved herself over to the door, dragging her heavy limbs with all the energy left in her. With every step she took, her nerves burned a reminder of her wound into her consciousness. It was only when Lily was smiling at her that she deemed any of it vaguely worth it.

'Well hello stranger,' Lily said. 'May I come in?'

Mary wanted to say no, because the place wasn't in its tidiest state, but she let her friend in anyway.

'How have you been?' Lily asked. She placed her coat on a hook by the door and dropped her handbag beneath - a sign that this wasn't a fleeting visit.

Mary tried to shrug, but even such a gentle motion in her left shoulder proved painful.

'Coping,' she settled on, though she knew it was a bare-faced lie. 'You look well.'

'I brought some food.' Lily held up a plastic carrier bag filled, Mary could see, with containers of evidently home-made delicacies. She then peered into the bag thoughtfully. 'There's some pie I made last night, some biscuits Sirius asked me to bring, and some cake from James's mum. To be honest, I think the biscuits are hers too.'

Mary didn't accept the bag. She did lead Lily to the kitchen, however, and gestured limply to one of the clear surfaces.

'Sirius couldn't have dropped the biscuits off himself?' Mary asked.

Lily tensed as she organised the tupperware.

'You know him,' she said. 'He's useless with these sorts of things.'

The truth was that she didn't particularly want visitors, but it would have been nice if he had tried. He was the only person she had yet to fend off requests for company from. His letters had been mundane, with not a single mention of her health - she had actually found them rather enjoyable, a nice break from the constant concern. Perhaps he just didn't pick up on the things the others had.

'I'll warm us up some pie,' Lily said. 'Got some homemade lemonade too.'

She had been busy.

Mary would have been lying if she had claimed that the resulting conversation, and food, had not made her feel better. It was probably the closest to a full meal she had enjoyed in some time. But it did nothing for the exhaustion, for the dull ache in her bones and in the very fibre of her being.

'I have a confession to make,' said Lily as they worked their way through the last of Mrs. Potter's delicious cake.

'Go on.' Mary was wary, but was sure to be as encouraging as she knew how to be.

'I came here with an ulterior motive,' Lily continued. Her eyes met her friend's and she smiled warmly. 'I was going to talk to you about this earlier, but... Well, things haven't exactly been easy lately.' She paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. But the smile never left her lips. Her joy was almost contagious, and Mary felt herself leaning forward eagerly.

'I'm pregnant,' Lily confessed in an almost-whisper.

Mary's jaw dropped, and for a moment she felt as though she were doing a pretty decent impression of a goldfish.

'Pregnant?' she asked. Well, she had to check. 'You and James?'

'Well, just me, but he's the father,' Lily said with a small giggle. 'And there's more. Mary...I want you to be my midwife.'

There it was. The darkness. It ebbed back in to the momentary clarity that Mary had found. Lily had evidently expected this to be something more than it was, perhaps believed that it would help somehow. But a familiar panic began, and Mary had to set her glass down for the trembling in her hands.

'Lily, I...' she spluttered. Her friend continued to smile eagerly, and it just made the calamity within that much harder to bear. 'I can't. I'm sorry.'

Lily was full of comfort and assurance, but Mary felt like the worst person in history. A voice in the back of her mind sneered at her, told her that not only was she incapable of doing something she had once been so sure of, but she had also let her friend down.

She could hear the laughter again, could almost feel the touch of a phantom spell.

'It's okay,' Lily said, over and over again. 'If you don't feel up to it, there's plenty of time and plenty of other choices. It's not the end of the world, Mary.'

But it was to her.

Sirius's legs were dangling off the wall of the Astronomy Tower as he sat precariously on the battlements. It was beautiful out tonight; all the stars lit the sky, every single member of his family. Even out here he could not escape them.

Things were not going well. He'd fucked up, to put a not-so-fine point on it. He'd been blind, had not thought how the act could affect his friend. All he had thought about was Severus Snape and how glorious it would be to scare the ever loving shit out of him.

Remus never once crossed his mind.

A harsh week had passed, and forgiveness had been extended, but even with James back by his side, their friendship as strong as ever, he could not reconcile the feelings.

In a few weeks he'd be going back to Grimmauld Place for the first time since the summer from hell. The thought of setting foot through those doors again filled him with such a sense of fear that plummeting from that tower didn't seem like such a bad alternative. And he'd betrayed his friends, had made ripples in the side of his life that had always been so perfect. He hated himself for what he had put them through. They didn't deserve it. And he didn't deserve them, didn't deserve their forgiveness no matter how much it meant to him.

Because he swore that he would always protect them from the things that threatened them. He just never thought that one of those things would be him.

No, he wasn't going back to that place. And he'd never hurt them again. He just needed to find that Gryffindor courage, and it would all be over. In a heartbeat. Maybe less.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the door open behind him. He didn't even hear footsteps, only reacted when someone climbed cautiously onto the parapet at his side.

'Long way down,' commented James.

Sirius grunted in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, them and the stars.

'You were keeping me up, you know,' James said. 'Couldn't sleep for worrying about you. No-one knew where you were.'

'Then how did you find me?'

'Mary. She'd seen you come up here.'

'What was she doing up after curfew?' Sirius asked.

'She's worried about you. Said...' James paused, and swallowed hard. 'I'm glad I found you.'

Sirius shifted where he sat. The brick of the tower was not the most comfortable of seating materials.

'You shouldn't worry about me,' Sirius said.

'But I do.'

When Sirius turned, he saw only James's eyes, an ethereal colour in the moonlight. There was more of him to see, but for some reason that was all that stood out. Even the glasses that reflected the same light seemed to fade into the grey of his face.

'Maybe you're sat here wondering what it would be like to jump,' James said. 'But I'm here wondering what the hell I'd do if you did.'

Sirius scratched his neck. James didn't understand. He had a family that loved him, and he always did the right thing. He was the person and the friend Sirius wished he could be.

'I'd cry, is what I'd do,' James continued. 'And you don't want to see me cry, it's not pretty.'

Sirius laughed.

'Evans would turn up her nose in disgust,' he joked.

'Doesn't she do that anyway?'

There was no wind up where they sat. Somewhere down below, the rest of the school slept peacefully. Sirius couldn't help but envy them. And he was somewhat annoyed at James, that he had figured out his intention and sought to change his course. Because now his courage was failing him more than ever.

'I'd take you here, safe and well, over a date with her any day, you know that?' James told him.

Sirius snickered.

'Well we both treat you like shit.'

'I'm about to push you myself!' James snapped. 'For the grades you get, you're pretty damn thick, Sirius. We're human, we screw up from time to time. I've done it too, I've been-'

'You've never done anything to me.'

'Oh, I have.' James's voice was hard, and there was a modicum of shame to it. 'When I've been moody. Even just last week when... I never meant what I said. I was just angry.'

'I deserved it.'

'No you didn't! You're just so used to people treating you like crap, you think it's part of life. But it's not. Merlin, Sirius, I wanted you to yell at me but you just took it.'

Sirius realised that James's hand gripped his wrist. How long had it been there?

'You don't deserve any of what they put you through,' James told him. 'You deserve to be with my parents, in my family. Because you're my brother. And I'm never going to repeat this again, and I'll deny it if anyone asks, but... I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't even want to contemplate that.'

He'd barely went at it with a chisel, but all of a sudden Sirius's walls came tumbling down. Before he knew it, he was crying. He'd never done that before. Not in front of his friends. Not in front of anyone, really, always alone in his room, shaking with anger.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered.

James's hands moved - the one that had gripped his wrist moved to his shoulder, and his free hand took its place. Their position was precarious - one wrong move and they'd both tumble.

'I know you are,' said James. 'And that makes all the difference. Now...you need to think about whether you're really going to jump. Because if you do, I'm going with you.'

Certain memories had been drifting to the forefront of his conciousness recently. And they weren't nice ones; in fact, they were some of the lowest moments of his life.

Even four years after moving out of the hell that was his family home, Sirius still lived with the preceding sixteen. He recalled the panic attacks he'd had in the weeks after running away, the nightmares and the fear. But he also remembered the Potters, and their warm, loving care. He remembered his friends and their support, and wondered just how he'd have gotten through it all without them.

The lowest point in his life had come that one day in his fifth year, shortly after he had sent Snape down to the Whomping Willow. He may have hated his life at home, but he'd never felt suicidal before. There was always something keeping him here, some determination that fuelled him. James had found him, and when he had talked him down from the battlements, Remus and Peter were waiting on the other side of the door. They were caught by McGonagall and Sirius was sent to the hospital wing while the others were promised detentions. McGonagall had apparently been so concerned about him that she forgot she owed him one too.

And the next morning, when he woke feeling refreshed and more hopeful than he had in some time, he remembered the dread as Madam Pomfrey told him that his parents were there and were eager to see him. But it was not the Blacks that walked through the doors, it was the Potters, and they fawned over him enough that he forgot all about his reasons for being there. James had apparently begged McGonagall to send for his parents, and from that day she never sent the Blacks another owl, no matter how badly he misbehaved.

He was thinking about this moment, about how much he owed them, when a timid knock sounded on his front door.

Sirius was cautious, because it was the middle of the night and he could not for the life of him think of who it could be. These days, unexpected visitors came with a certain sense of trepidation.

But when he opened the door to the porch and saw who waited, he moved a little faster.

'Hello,' said Mary. She sounded unsure of herself, unsure if she should even be there. 'Mind if I...uh...come in?'

The light in the porch must have been dim, because she looked rather drawn out, like someone had shaded in certain areas of her face and neglected the pink.

When she stepped into the perfectly adequate light of his home, he could see that it was not a trick. Usually so vibrant, she seemed a monochromatic shadow of herself.

'It's good to see you, stranger,' he said. He wouldn't react to her appearance, wouldn't let on that there was anything at all amiss. He reckoned she'd had enough of that recently. 'What brings you here?'

Mary looked around the inside of his home, as though it had been more than a few weeks since she had last seen it.

'I got sick of sitting home alone,' she said. 'Guess I was going a bit stir crazy.'

They made their way to the sofa, in front of the fire which, again, was not lit. The coffee table was scattered with old issues of the Daily Prophet, displaying half-finished crosswords.

The silence around Mary was unsettling. Visually, she was simply exhausted; quite understandable for someone who had been through what she had. But there were little things that Sirius picked up on, little nuances that were missing.

It was unsettling. She had always been a strong person, had always had something to offer others in dark times. Now, she sat there like an empty shell, like a casing that looked like Mary Macdonald but lacked everything that made her who she was.

He'd worried about her since the incident, but had chosen to keep his distance. There was no shortage of people worrying about her, and he knew from experience that often a show of support could feel smothering. She had wanted to be alone, and he had let her, no matter how much he'd wanted to check up on her.

'Would you like a drink?' he asked. 'All out of coffee, but I have plenty tea.'

She looked up at him, and there was light in her eyes again.

'I'll make it,' she said, a little too eagerly. He wanted to protest, but knew better. He didn't want to scare her off - he'd heard of how she'd shied away from Lily just earlier that day.

'Lots of milk, one sugar,' Sirius reminded her. She rolled her eyes at this as she stood up. 'I know, Remus says I'm a heathen.'

'Now I know why I drink coffee with you,' she said with a sigh.

Before she left for the open kitchen, she untied her sling and draped it over the arm of the sofa. With the removal of the bandage came a look of relief upon her. So she was a stubborn patient too?

'How's your arm?' Sirius asked.

As though to prove an unspoken point, Mary rotated her wrist, but Sirius noted that the rest of her arm remained still, and did not move at all above the elbow.

'It's getting there,' she said. 'Have to go for treatment every week, which is a bit tedious. It's better than the alternative, though.'

She had not taken the news of her disability well. It was only one arm, but to her it seemed to be a symbol of restraint, and that wasn't something that sat well with her.

With a weak smile, she left to see to the tea and he turned away, wondering just what was happening.

On the one hand, he should probably tell James that she was out of the house, so he could stop worrying. But he had a sneaky feeling that she had visited because she had not wanted to be alone, yet was not yet at the point of seeking mass company. He wasn't the best company at times, but he was predictable and safe. If she wanted to just sit and drink tea while someone sat and drank tea beside her, then his was the place she would find this.

'Am I okay to use any mugs?' she asked.

'Yeah, whichever you want.'

He reached for the last crossword he had been working on and dipped his discarded quill in the ink pot on the coffee table. He'd started doing these for fun in school, but in adulthood he had found something rather soothing about them. He supposed that the war tended to take second seating when one was wondering who the original bassist of the Howling Harpies was.

Before he could admit defeat, there was a crash from the direction of the kitchen and he spun around, quill slipping from his fingers.

Mary stood in the middle of the open kitchen, staring down at the floor. Her left arm was held defensively across her body and Sirius watched as her right wound around it, as her shoulders bowed and tears began to pour from her eyes.

He almost leapt over the back of the sofa to get to her. The mess of broken china at her feet might as well have not been there.

'Hey,' he said, quietly and in the most soothing voice he could muster. 'It's okay. It's just a mug, it happens.'

He laughed warmly, but realised immediately that this was a mistake, that somehow it wasn't about the broken mug, or the wasted teabag. As her sobs grew steadily more violent, Sirius wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She did not fight, did not resist, but her arms did not move either.

'Mary,' he muttered. 'Listen to me. Just close your eyes. I've got you, okay?'

Her entire body was shaking, breaths uneven and choked. This was more than just a frustrated cry. Between them, her arms unwound, and she gripped his T-shirt tightly, her tears soaking through the collar.

'I need you to breathe with me,' he told her. 'In, and out. You feel that?' He exaggerated his breaths, kept them loud and big until he felt her chest moving in time with his. 'Good, good. That's it. Now I know you can hear my heartbeat there. Just focus on that, okay? Let everything else go, just listen to that and keep breathing.'

Slowly, he felt her body loosen up, felt the sobs subside and the shaking stop. At the same time, he too relaxed, finally allowing himself to feel the fear her sudden change had brought upon him. And now, he just held her, fingers winding in her hair.

'I can't do this,' she choked out. 'Sirius, I can't.'

'It takes time,' he reassured her.

Suddenly, she tore herself from his embrace.

'How much time?' she demanded. 'My arm is probably never going to heal. And I can't close my eyes without reliving that night! How long is that going to take? The hospital doesn't want me, even the Order have told me to take a back seat.'

Sirius tried to reach out to her, but she flinched away.

'Mary, you're in no fit state to work or go out on assignment,' he told her. 'You need time to recover, that's all they want.'

She looked up at him and there were daggers in her eyes.

'They don't want me,' she said. 'I'd just get in their way.'

As quickly as her mood had changed, he watched the anger melt away and she folded into herself again, failing to brace herself against the wave of tears that hit. This time, he did not have time to reach out to her. She found him, buried her head in her chest as though he were the only source of comfort she had.

In that moment, perhaps he was.

Sirius didn't know what to do. He never was truly comfortable with crying people; he had a habit of making them feel worse, not better. But he held on to her for dear life, hushing her to a calm.

'You are not useless,' he told her. 'I know it feels that way, but you're not thinking straight right now.'

'I can't...'

He wanted to tell her that he understood, though he knew that in the grand scheme of things he did not. He had never been through anything like what she had experienced, but he had dealt with years of abuse from his family, had somehow found the courage to pull through.

No, not somehow. He knew exactly how he had made it through.

'Right now you're feeling lost and confused,' he told Mary. He did not loosen his hold on her, not one bit. 'Trust me, I know. And you know what else I know? What's going to happen.'

'And what's that?' She sounded so disenchanted, and it was painful to hear.

'We're going to hug this out,' he explained. 'Then you're going to take a seat and take some deep breaths while I clean this up. Then, I'm going to get us something a little stronger than tea, I'm going to show you to the spare room, where you're going to spend the night, and first thing in the morning we're going to go to yours and pack up everything you need. Because you're going to stay with me for a while. For as long as you need.'

There was momentary silence, and she sniffed quietly. Then she pulled back again, not so far and not so roughly this time. For a moment he thought that she was going to fight him on this, but he saw that she simply had no energy left within her.

'You don't have to do this,' she told him.

'No,' he agreed. 'But you need it. And Merlin knows living on your own can get lonely.'

AN - Please review :)