A/N: This story is at its end with this epilogue. It starts between books four and five, before Sirius goes into hiding at Grimmauld Place, while he's out informing "the old crowd" and goes through a bit after the war. Cheers.

-J

"Who's left alive, Remus?" Sirius said, leaning over a piece of parchment he was going to use to take down the information of the people he had to alert of Voldemort's return.

"Dedalus," Remus said with a sigh, sitting down beside him. "Aberforth. Hestia. That's… oh, no, wait, Mikki's still alive."

"Mikki?" Sirius asked, head jerking up to stare at Remus, a thrill rushing through him. "Mikki's still alive?"

"Yeah, she's famous," Remus replied dryly. "She's famous for being rich and beautiful and having been mysteriously widowed about seven times. The most popular rumor is poison."

"Ah," Sirius said with a small, half-amused, half-pained smile. "Is she married now, then?"

"No, she's not," Remus said, shaking his head. "She's kept the surname of the husband who gave her a son–"

"She's got a kid?" Sirius cried.

"He's Harry's age," Remus said calmly. "Bright, handsome, truly his mother's son. Except he's in Slytherin, but I always said she would have been there if the Sorting Hat had placed her anywhere but Gryffindor."

"What's his name?" Sirius asked softly, sitting down across from Remus, hands shaking.

"Blaise Zabini," Remus said with a soft smile. "He was the only Slytherin who didn't give me a hard time when I taught. Probably his mother told him that I was an old friend. She tried to send me new robes when she found out I'd gotten the job, but I wouldn't take them. I know it was because she felt guilty, and I didn't want to take charity off her guilty conscience."

Sirius couldn't help but snort.

"Remus, you don't take charity off anything or anyone without a fight. Even if it's not really charity. She doesn't have a husband?"

"No, not at the moment," Remus said slowly. "Not since she killed Blaise's father, I think."

Sirius couldn't help but wonder at the casual way Remus could say those words, like there was nothing unusual at all about a woman killing her husband. The things they had seen in the war… things that no human being should ever have to witness. Mikki killing husbands on Dumbledore's orders was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Do you think… do you know where she lives?" Sirius whispered, not meeting his friend's eyes.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sirius," Remus said firmly. "If you want someone to talk to her, I'll go."

"Remus, please," Sirius said urgently. "I have to see her, Remus. I need to. I haven't even seen her face in years and it's killing me."

"It will kill you if you can't control yourself, and I know you two. There's a reason you haven't seen her in years, Sirius."

"Yeah," Sirius spat. "And his name's Peter Pettigrew."

Remus sighed.

"I'm not referring to Azkaban, Sirius."

Sirius shook his head. He knew exactly what Remus was referring to, but it didn't matter anymore. There was a war on. She could die. He could die. He needed to see Mikki, just once, just one time. She was the one thing he'd thought of since he got out that he hadn't been able to access while in Azkaban, a thought that had haunted him since the day he got out of the fortress. Twelve years was a long time and he'd half wanted to find her that moment, but the risk was too great, without Peter, without proof.

"Remus," Sirius sighed, "as soon as I've finished this mission, Albus is going to lock me up in a safehouse. You know that. I need to see her, just once before I'm locked away, unable to see her again for Merlin knows how long. Please."

Remus sighed, frowning at his oldest friend, but his firm stance melted under Sirius's obvious need to see the woman he loved and he gave Sirius the address.

It was a large manor house, and Sirius felt proud that she'd done so well for herself. Granted, she probably hated herself for what she'd had to do. He only wished he could have protected her, provided her with everything she deserved without her having to get her hands dirty, but Mikki wouldn't have wanted to stay on the sidelines, especially not when she was capable of more. He hid his face behind a newspaper and knocked on the door, hoping it wasn't a servant of some kind answering the door. He didn't want to have to use magic.

It was lucky it was her, then, and barely looking a day older than she had when he'd been sent to jail. She didn't even look remotely surprised to see him, just motioned him into the manor discretely, slamming the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she said suddenly, not even noticing how Sirius stared at her, as though he'd never seen her before and he'd only just realized he was in the presence of a beautiful woman.

"You know, I never thought it was possible," he whispered, "but you've become even more beautiful than when we were young. I missed out on so much."

"They're dead, Sirius," she whispered, taking a step away from him, although he hadn't moved toward her. "My husbands are dead. The Potters are dead. Voldemort is dead. They're all dead. Why are you here? It's not like you can claim me any more than you could back then."

"No," he whispered regretfully, "but I wish I could, Mikki. I wish I could. But Voldemort's not dead. He returned, killed the Diggory boy. Dumbledore's sent me out to alert the old crowd. It's why I'm here, although seeing you again is undoubtedly a beautiful bonus."

Her eyes widened and she walked over to the door, her wand out, looking around outside through the windows. Then she took his hand and led him upstairs into a room with no windows: Her bedroom.

"I'm paranoid, I know," she whispered, warding the room, "but when you've lived like I have so long you really can't afford not to be. Mad-Eye knows."

"Yeah," Sirius muttered. "Mad-Eye spent a year in the bottom of his own trunk, so I think he's about to get a whole lot more constantly vigilant."

"What?" she hissed. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius told Mikki the whole story, and what started out as them standing in her bedroom led to them sitting on her bed, sipping wine, leaning ever closer to each other as he gave her all the details of the return of their greatest enemy.

"So Potter's your godson and knows it," Mikki said, smirking. "Does he know that you used to bed his mother? Does he know how you would hold her, even after he was born, and how you would make her scream, all the while thinking of me and wishing she was me?"

Sirius shivered, trying not to think about how she might have known such things, but then, she and Lily had, strangely, been the best of friends and the cleverest girls to grace Hogwarts since the Founding and until Hermione Granger came along. He had to agree with Remus, that girl was right up there with Mikki and Lily.

"He doesn't," Sirius admitted, suddenly realizing that her lips were hanging tantalizingly close to his. "He doesn't even know anything about you, except maybe that you're the mother of a kid who's in his year. How's that, by the way?"

Mikki gave a bitter laugh.

"You know, as much as it's strange to admit," she sighed, inexplicably draping her arm around Sirius's neck as she sipped her wine, "Blaise is really the light of my life. When you were taken to jail, he's the only reason I didn't kill myself. The thought that I'd never see you again, never hold you again... Even Dumbledore's insistence that I was needed wasn't strong enough to make me hold on, but Blaise looking up at me with those eyes... Well, Sirius, he gave me strength, even though I killed his father. I killed all of them. But that doesn't matter, I made a pretty good living at it," she ended dryly. "Blaise doesn't mind, he keeps my condition absolutely a secret, and when I told him that Remus Lupin was an old friend of mine and to treat him with the utmost respect he thought it was odd, but when Snape revealed his condition at the end of the year, Blaise said he understood why I'd said it and he actually wrote Remus a letter saying that he was very sorry that he was leaving and that he'd been a great teacher. I didn't even have to ask, Sirius, he did it on his own. He makes me so proud."

Somewhere along the line, they'd grown dangerously close and their wine glasses slipped out of their hands, causing a mess that could be dealt with some other time as Sirius pressed his lips hungrily to Mikki's, following her as she laid back on the bed, pulling him down on top of her.

It was every bit as heavenly as they'd remembered and Sirius found himself panting several hours later, clutching her quite fit naked body to him, wishing he could brave just one more time but knowing that she would never forgive herself if she succumbed and something happened to him. Instead he just held her like he'd never held anything in his life.

"I have to know," Mikki asked, running her fingers along his collarbone, collecting his sweat beneath her nails, "did you love her?"

"Who?" Sirius asked absently, trying to recall what they'd even been talking about before the fateful kiss.

"Lily. Did you love Lily?"

He blinked, thinking back to how it had felt, holding James's wife in his arms, making love to her, feeling her contract around him and hearing her scream his name... It was incredible, no doubt about it but... but...

"Sort of," Sirius admitted. "I mean, I think the person I was then, the things I had to live with then, I think with all of that in mind I loved her very much but it was never quite... enough. I always had that memory of you, and I've always belonged to you no matter what you were able to give me. I've never resented that. I absolutely adore you, Mikki, I always will. I only wish I could give you the life you deserve, but I'm human and there's nothing I can do."

"I know," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I know. I'm just so glad you're back. I wish you could stay with me, but..."

"I know," he sighed. "I know.

Sirius never saw Mikki Clark again. To avoid all possible suspicion from Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, Mikki never went to an Order meeting, although she kept up correspondence with Kingsley under the guise of courting a young, attractive, powerful pureblood, passing messages to the Order in code, and occasionally through Severus Snape, whom she bonded with over her love of Lily Evans and completely deplored for his lack of respect for Sirius.

When Sirius Black's death was reported to her by Bellatrix, who was proudly bragging, it took all of Mikki's strength not to show her emotions, to break down and cry or even to throw something at Bellatrix, and although she wanted to die the moment she knew he was dead, Blaise, who came home from school not long after, sat her down and comforted her.

"Mother," he said softly, petting Mikki as she sobbed. He had just finished cleaning up a broken wine bottle that she had thrown at the wall when she saw the Daily Prophet article about Sirius's innocence, declaring him a hero and stating his death as a tragedy. She had been furious that they would be so bold after making most of his life an absolute hell. "I don't know why you're so upset about this, but if the death of this man bothers you so much, giving up isn't the answer."

"And what is?" she hissed bitterly.

"Do you know who killed him?"

"Very, very well," Mikki growled. "I heard the news from her mouth, actually."

"Well, then," Blaise said, kissing his mother sweetly on the head, "don't rest until she's dead."

They didn't inspire Mikki to kill Bellatrix as Blaise had surely meant, but they did give Mikki the courage to go on, just for a little while longer. It was, after all, what Sirius would have wanted.

/-/

Harry and Neville had responded to the alert that Ron had received while on duty directing emergencies to the available staff. The war had officially ended a week ago but the three boys were honorarily made full Aurors and set on the task, like the rest of the department, of hunting down the straggling Death Eaters and bringing them in, by Kingsley Shacklebolt himself.

"Fancy place," Harry remarked. "What was the call?"

"Disturbance of some kind," Neville recited. "It appeared to be a woman reporting the incident, Ron said, so it could be some sort of domestic spat. You know who's manor this is, don't you, Harry?"

"Haven't a clue."

"Mikki Zabini."

"Blaise's mum?"

"Yeah, that's the one, the model who killed all her husbands. This could be interesting, but probably nothing to do with the Death Eaters. Probably in and out."

Harry nodded and they knocked on the door. There was no answer. Neville nodded and Harry unlocked the door easily, checking for wards with a spell Hermione had taught him and leading the way into the manor when there turned out not to be any.

The house was dark, silent, empty. For a large manor that was home to only two people, it wasn't such a horribly strange thing, but Harry's skin was crawling with something he didn't understand.

"Split up or search together?" Neville whispered. "It's a big place."

"Together," Harry said, although he might have said split if there wasn't such an eerie sensation.

There was nothing, no sign of any sort of struggles, no sort of anything.

"This is ridiculous," Harry hissed when they got to the third floor, still not finding anything out of place. "Homenum revelio!"

There was someone, but it was faint. Harry didn't know what that meant, but he quickened his pace as he led Neville down the hall toward a door that was left open. It was a bedroom, no windows, no signs of anything, but there was an adjoining bath. Harry and Neville exchanged nervous looks as they pushed the slightly-ajar door open further. What they saw caused Neville to nearly vomit and Harry turned away quickly to regain his composure.

There was a naked woman, probably Mikki Zabini, lying in a tub full of bloody water, eyes open and glassy, her wand on the floor, probably slipping out of her hand as the life left her body.

"Accident or something?" Neville asked when he'd gathered his composure once more. "Or do you think she was murdered?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted, not sure what to do. "Maybe we should drain the tub, get a look at her wounds, check for spells, see what the last spell of her wand was, and search the room for clues. There was no Dark Mark."

"They're not all using the Dark Mark anymore," Neville pointed out as he waved his wand to clear the bloody water. "It's too conspicuous."

With the water gone the two boys - no, men - steeled themselves and turned to view her naked, dead body.

"Those are some really deep gashes," Harry remarked. "I feel like I've seen them before..."

"Where?"

"Draco Malfoy," Harry said softly. "And... and George Weasley and... and... This is one of the curses Snape invented. Sectumpsempra, it's a Dark curse, I don't even know the counter-curse. I think the only person who did is dead."

"Well, if her assailant knew that curse, he was probably a Death Eater," Neville reasoned. "I don't think Snape would have told it to just anyone."

Harry shook his head and said, "No, I don't think he told it to anyone. But apparently he told someone."

Neville picked up her wand and checked the last spell.

"Harry, Harry it was her wand. The spell was from her wand. You don't think the killer used her wand, do you? They haven't been doing that. Who would do that?"

"Nobody we've got a profile of," Harry said, stumped, looking around the room. "Scan her body while I check for other clues. Maybe there's something we're missing."

Harry looked around the seemingly-typical bathroom, wondering what was bothering him, what it was he couldn't put his finger on. Then he spotted it: a freshly written letter sitting on the sink.

"Anything?" he asked Neville, reaching out for the note and scanning it, eyes growing wide.

"Not so far," Neville asked. "You?"

"Maybe," he said, pausing halfway down the note and starting over, reading it aloud. "Listen to this, it's a note she just wrote before she died:

"'I'm so sorry. I couldn't take it anymore. When they killed my best friends in the first war, it hurt. Then they locked up the love of my life in prison and I didn't want to go on living but I had my other best friend and my son and so I did.

"'This war, Bellatrix Lestrange killed the love of my life and I wanted to die right then, but I kept living for my son. In the final battle, my last friend died, but so did the man responsible for his death. Molly Weasley took the desired task of Bellatrix's death from me, but I do not begrudge her that moment as she lost many loved ones of her own to the Death Eaters.

"'They took everything from me, my pride, my dignity, my honor, my life, my love. I spent the last eighteen years in fear that they would also find a way to take my son, but I'm grateful that that, at least, was safe from their grasp.

"'But my love is gone, my friends are gone, and my son no longer needs me. While he is away touring the world, I thought it best to rejoin my love in death, where we can be together without my hurting him as we could never have been in life. With such a life waiting for me, how could I have possibly stayed in this one? I only hope my son will forgive me.

"'Mikki Clark'"

The boys exchanged horrified looks.

"Suicide?" Harry whispered.

"Apparently."

"That's a terrible way to die."

"Yeah. I suppose we'll have to write Blaise. Be sure to save that letter, and bring along her wand. He'll want them."

"I wonder..."

"What?"

Harry shook his head.

"Never mind," he said. "It's not important. Let's just get the body taken care of, write up our reports and get out of this place."

But that wasn't the full truth. Harry felt a strange sense of something important in the note, in his finding the note, in him being the one on duty when her alert was given, which he realized she must have given herself before performing the spell. Her love, her dead love, killed by Bellatrix Lestrange...

A part of him almost thought it might have been Sirius, but that was absurd, he told himself as he gathered up the note and the wand and followed Neville back to the Ministry.