Chapter 1:

October 31st, 1981

1640 hrs

The Ministry of Magic was a bustle of agitated energy. It was 4 pm and a Saturday, those who had come in to work were anxious to return home. The first few stragglers began to leave, disappearing through the green flames of the floo system, with their colleagues watching them go with envy. Many of them were required to await the arrival of the relieving night team; a barebones staff to keep the ministry running at all times. The Department of Magical Law enforcement was no exception.

Misuse of muggle artefacts officers rubbed their temples, tension headaches forming from the howler complaints that were sent by those witches and wizards who believed they had been unjustly fined. Those in charge of muggle worthy excuses were currently in a meeting, discussing the recent bewitchment of three London buses, which their liaison in the muggles own parliament was beginning to be harassed about. The assistants and secretaries to members of the Wizengamot slogged through the paperwork which was piled high on each of their desks. Three criminal trials were to commence the next week, due in no small part to the fellow employees who occupied the office space next door to them. These witches and wizards, the aurors, hurried between their cubicles, exchanging documents and settling plans, talking in whispers on the latest headlines and news.

The news of the day was a very popular topic, and cause for the employees of the ministry to want to rush home. Staying too late was a dangerous risk these days. This was the reason for a greater number of aurors remaining at the ministry throughout the day, rather than returning home. Patrols manning the halls and departments of the ministry, a constant surveillance.

Tonight, was Halloween, a day in which superstitions were heightened.

Voldemort and his deatheaters… the cause for unrest in the ministry and the entirety of the country. The reason the Wizengamot secretaries had hands that had become calloused and which bled due to the sheer amount of paperwork needed to be filed, sorted and researched. The reason that the aurors never seemed to rest, and had gained a considerable number of new scars and injuries between them.

Despite this however, there were… moments of distraction.

Two such ministry employees were embroiled in such a moment.

A witch and wizard were leant over something at the witch's desk, her stack of trial paperwork forgotten for the time being. He, despite shoulder length black hair indicating youth and rebelliousness, was elegant and handsome. His piercing greys eyes had an intensity to them, though his company would attest they used to have a mischievousness to them.

She, likewise, had an air of elegance and wealth, amber eyes and jet black hair, though it reached down to her lower back and fell into silky, smooth curls. Her companion would attest to however, that this was due to well more than an hour each morning and whole bottles of her family's Sleekeasy Hair Potion. This was to say nothing of her intense need for glasses for long distance. Irritative charms would have to do.

"… no no, his number is 45893," The wizard corrected the witch, chuckling. She was smiling happily, as she scratched out what she had written, correcting it.

She leant back so that her companion could see their final draft.

"Yeah?"

Her companion nodded, and tapped the paper with his wand. It began to fold itself, forming a small paper plane. With that, it whizzed away, speedily looking for its intended reader.

The two glanced and smiled at each other.

With that, the witch leant back in her chair, and the wizard leant on her desk.

"One of these days, Michael is going to kill you, Sirius" the witch gazed up at the man, as he fiddled with a spare quill on her desk.

The memo the two had just sent had been made on 'Michael's' personal note pad, a wanky handmade parchment from the mountains of Hokkaido. A memo from himself… from the future. The man had originally been terrified of this (as there was no possibility of someone stealing it, due to the 'secure' charms on his desk draw), and instantly burned the first message.

Three tries, and well placed exploding hogworm that had been foretold in the tearoom did the trick. And there was no one Michael trusted as much as Michael. For an auror trainee, he was very gullible.

Apparently, Michael urgently needed to save the ministry from an infestation of winged noogles. This of course could only be done in complete silence, with a gentle tap over solid surfaces, listening very closely for any movement.

"Oh yeah," Sirius chuckled, agreeing. Michael was a colleague with whom he had to share all his work. "But it has to happen. There can only be one!"

"Mmm, yes, the job of co-assistant to the head aurors assistant always culminates in a bloody battle of superiority," His companion agreed, deadpan.

"Let's be hone-" Sirius was interrupted abruptly.

"Miss Potter!"

'Miss Potter', or Violet, shot up from her chair, back pin straight.

"Yes, Madam Bones?" Violet whirled around to face her boss, a women of grand seniority and grander reputation. A stern women with a square jaw was a few yards away, with greying blonde hair and a pair of half-moon spectacles.

This was Violet's boss. A ministerial member of the wizengamot and (on the side) head of legal secretaries, Violet being one of them.

Violet smiled charmingly at her boss.

"I need briefs for Carrow on Monday, with summaries of sections 57-94."

"They're ready and bound on your desk," Violet smiled with satisfaction.

Madam Bones raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Well good, I suppose you'll have time to complete this list for me before you leave tonight." Madame bones offered a single sheet of parchment, a list of many things in tiny writing, letters numbered down it.

Violet took it.

"Of course, Madam Bones, I would be more than happy to do this for you,

"It's Gregory who will be available tonight in section three of the department of mysteries. Good luck!" Madam Bones typically loud voice boomed.

"You're too kind. I'm more than happy to help."

"Good day Sirius, keeping busy?" Madam Bones looked up to Violet's partner.

"Of course, Madam Bones, after all, what's a few more scars," Sirius moved his hair out of the way to show a dark bruise around the crook of his neck.

"Quite right Mr. Black."

Violet continued to smile as Madam Bones walked away, before her smile dropped and she sat back down, crossing her legs at the ankle. .

"I'm efficient and get more work done, only to get saddled with more, unpaid work…" Violet muttered. "

She let out a great sigh.

"Oh… I love my job, I love my job, I love my job." She mumbled over and over to herself, closing her eyes to help sooth a building headache.

"Litigator by 25 remember?"

"Mmmm," Violet's demeanour changed to almost euphoric at thought of her in the plum robes of wizengamot, without opening her eyes.

She did finally look back to her companion, grinning cheekily.

"I didn't know deatheaters gave marks like you've got."

Sirius grinned back, and traced small circles on the back of her hand. He reached up again to run his finger through his hair, and as he did so, Violet spotted a piece of parchment in his robe's inner pocket. She fleetingly caught the words 'Potter' on it.

"Hey, what's this," She went to reach for it but Sirius's arm was down within a second and keeping the parchment flush against his body.

"Just an old report of James'."

Yeah… sure.

Violet didn't bother pressing further and merely consigned to defeat.

A rare occurrence.

He wouldn't talk to her about any work nowadays. Not for a few months.

War gives everyone paranoia. Even from those closest.

"Have you heard from them recently? Has James sent anything here" Violet asked instead. There had been nothing to the house. She hadn't seen her brother or his family in nearly a month. And now they were under a fidelius charm (had been so for a week), Sirius the secret keeper. So… she doubted she would hear from them for a while.

"No, nothing," Sirius replied glumly.

Violet nodded, and instead sought to change the topic.

"I'd better be going to get some of these case notes from the archives…" Violet stated, looking down at Madam Bones' 36 item to do list.

"Oh, you have fun ok?" Sirius teased.

"I might stay in the archives for a bit, say I got lost. Care to join?"

"Hmm… tempting." Sirius nodded jokingly.

"It could be romantic," Violet pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmmm, a liaison surrounded by paperwork at risk of papercuts," Sirius pretended to contemplate the idea, his handsome features twisting into an inquisitive look.

"Ooo, the scandal," Violet winked. Sirius rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.

"Ugh, finally," Sirius saw the time turn to 5. "I'm going home."

Violet screwed up her nose. "No fair."

"How long are you going to be?" Sirius asked as he stood up straight.

Violet glanced at her paperwork.

Hours… the answer was hours.

Sirius followed her gaze and smirked, triumphant.

"I'll think of you as I'm eating decent food."

"Save me," Violet pouted, grabbing his hand.

"You really want me touching your paperwork?"

Violet thought for a second.

The horror.

"No, you're quite right. These papers really do deserve my touch after all," Violet looked back down at her work. Smug. She knew she was a truly excellent legal secretary. She had even corrected the documents of the likes of Madam Bones.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but didn't saying anything.

"I'll see you later tonight," Violet released him, and turned back to the work on her desk.

"Bye," Sirius bent down and they gave each other a small peck before he turned leave. "And careful ok? You don't want to end up on here tomorrow." He picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet on her desk, the front page concerned with the recent murder of 7 muggles.

"I'll keep that in mind."

As he was leaving her desk however, Michael, his sandy haired partner, crept into the legal offices. He moved stealthily with light footing, crouched low. He crawled to the nearest corner, and squatted. His ear went up to the wood, and he knocked softly.

Violet and Sirius grinned.

"Oh, such fun," Violet cooed.

21:25

"Gregory, I understa-" Violet was cut off. A middle aged man, large and imposing stood before her. They were in the doorway to the legal offices.

"What do you above-dwellers know of what we do…" Gregory hissed.

Ugh… Unspeakables.

Such creepy people. Creepy and pale.

"I'm sorry, but incorrect paperwork has no excuse. And I don't appreciate the tone you're taking with me." Violet's sickly sweet smile was fake, and she had her hands in a loose prayer position in front of her. "Now, who do I speak with to rectify this matter?"

"That would be me," Gregory did not look impressed, his beady brown eyes trying to bore holes into her.

Merlin… this could never end.

"Very well," Violet was becoming frustrated. She and Gregory had been in argument for nearly an hour now over whether or not he or she was correct on the matter of evidential data recording.

She, of course, was.

"I would like to speak with your manager."

"Yeah? You and me both." He rolled his eyes at her, and Violet crossed her arms in frustration. "I'm leaving now." He sounded well and truly finished.

Violet had somewhat a reputation for being excessively pushy, so this was not a rare emotion towards her.

After he left, Violet said to herself; "Ah, victory by default".

Violet yawned however, it had been such a long day. However, this had been her final task to complete. She tugged down the sleeve of her long sleeve sweater, as it had slipped a bit up her arm.

It was time to go home.

She made her way back up to her department. She pulled a small mirror compact and checked her appearance. Her hair was beginning to return to its untamed, natural self. She grimaced.

Her desk was now neatly set out, with her briefings filed away. A calendar sat on the right side of the desk, filled out to the quarter of the hour for the next 3 weeks. Her cases were stacked on top of her desk for tomorrow in the order that she would need them. 5 photos adorned her desk as well, ordered chronologically.

She slung her dragon skin bag over her shoulder and grabbed her outer robe, enjoying the feeling of soft cashmere on her hands. It was an old coat of her mothers.

She peaked her head into Madam Bones' office.

"Madam, I'm off."

"Ah, Violet, how did it go with Gregory?" Madam Bones did not look up from her desk as she continued to write. 6 other quills were writing on their own volition around her.

"Oh yes fine, I'm sure there will be no qualms in me fixing it tomorrow morning."

Madam bones glanced up for only a second and smiled her.

"Have a good night then."

"And you," Violet gave a small nod to her boss. Her mentor.

The only one who had been willing to hire her.

And with that, Violet left her department, and travelled back down stairs to floo network.

"Wickham Place." Violet stated confidently, and in a blast she was gone. When she came too again, she was in another long row of floo systems, though she herself was the only one there.

Beyond this depot was a heavily guarded street, only allowing the occupants to walk through, but none to apparate. She would have to walk.

She departed through the man hole entrance to the depot, and was met by a residential street of terraced homes. Violet brushed herself off and readjusted, then set off.

The neighbourhood was a hidden, wizarding only area near the centre of London, only accessible through a protected doorway, or through the floo depot.

The night was cool and brisk, and the wind swept around Violet violently. She, in response cuddled into her coat more and occupied her thoughts with that of a hot meal. It had always surprised her, but Sirius; excellent cook.

When she finally reached her home, she hurried inside, the wind whistling as she entered her entry hall. She managed to finally close the door and she sighed in satisfaction. Home at last.

"Sirius!" She called out, setting her bag down on a small table near the entrance. Her home instantly warmed her. She removed her coat and began to brush it down to remove the debris that had flown into it.

She received no reply however. She assumed he was showering.

Moving in together had been a really big thing to get her head around. It had taken her well over a month to begin admitting it to people after they had. Of course, everyone else had assumed they had just eloped like the rest of the wizarding world seemed to be doing at that time.

Violet walked up stairs to their bedroom and grabbed a pair of pyjamas. There was no one in the bathroom however.

Sticking her head out her door, she called again. "Sirius! You home?"

No reply.

Though slightly odd, Violet, again, shrugged this off, and went to get ready for bed.

When she had finished, and her hair was drenched in her family's hair taming potion and set in large curlers (she would, after all, have to go into work tomorrow), she put on her thick set, rectangle glasses and went down stairs.

Still no Sirius. A plate had been made up for her however. On top of it was a note reading 'I'll be back soon.'

Slightly more worried now, Violet frowned. 'I'll be back soon'… could he be vaguer?

'The git's probably just out on a joy ride on that death machine,' she told herself, and rolled her eyes at how much he loved that motorcycle of his.

'Soon' however, would turn out to be much longer.

Violet awoke with a start, landing on the floor with a thud. Rubbing her hip, which had managed to hit the side of the coffee table, she woozily looked around. She had fallen asleep on the couch, all the lights still on.

"Ugh," She rubbed her eyes. She felt out of it, and was covered in a layer of sweat.

Her dream… she couldn't remember it but couldn't imagine it was pleasant.

She felt so odd.

'What was that?'

Looking at her watch, she saw that it was 1 in the morning. There was a knock at the door. On reflex, Violet had her wand in her hand instantly and had it pointed towards the door.

Was Sirius home yet?

The knocks persisted.

Carefully, Violet climbed to her feet and crept towards the door.

"Who's there?" She called out, her wand still defensively threatening to whoever stood behind the door.

"Violet… It's Minerva."

'What?'

"Violet…" She heard the woman's voice waver. "Violet, something has happened."

Violet's heart instantly raced, and she wrenched the door open recklessly to face whoever had come. Luckily, it was indeed Minerva McGonagall.

"Is it Sirius?"

'Oh it had to be… he wasn't back yet', she thought.

McGonagall said nothing, seemingly lost for words. She swallowed and tried to start again, but couldn't.

Violet's manic expression softened. "Professor," She could never bring herself to use first names. "What is it?" Violet's brow furrowed in concern as she took a step out from home and into the cold night, her green night gown wrapped tightly around her.

After a second, McGonagall simply averted her eyes and took a step to the right.

Still not sure why her old professor was there, Violet tore her eyes away and looked to the space behind her professor.

This did not help her confusion at first.

At first, she saw Hagrid. Simply Hagrid. Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, and now member of the Order of the Phoenix. He was as large and as imposing as ever. Yet… there was something off about him.

He had goggles perched on his forehead, and was rugged up warmly.

Violet smiled warmly at the man, and started to greet him.

"Hag-"

Violet stopped.

Confused.

He was holding a baby, specifically one with dark hair sticking every which way from the thick blue blanket they were swaddled in.

Violet's mind halted.

No….