Scent and Sensuality: Chapter 5
Thanks to dramaphile for the quick beta!
Chapter 5
"Hold! Hold your horse at once!" two voices cried, hexes turned harmless in the shield cast about Udolpho. Ginny drew back, panic flooding her and causing a seemingly endless moment of hesitation. They must not find out; it would not do to place her confidence in any as untrustworthy as her twin elder brothers. A respectable young lady such as herself, who had only recently been presented in society, ought never to ride at night. Most definitely not alone, and most definitely not in purloined attire suited for men of distinctly low classes. And above all, not for the express purpose of appropriating funds from the unfortunate buffoons of the aristocracy.
Fred and George would not, she knew, be lenient in their reaction to her admittedly unorthodox choices. They were notorious gossips, mischievous to a fault and known to revel in the comical plights of others. As she attempted to reign Udolpho in, the headstrong horse did indeed attempt to throw her, the twin figures advancing rapidly towards them showing no sign of benign intentions. Mind overwhelmed with questions about the apparent employment of her brothers by the notoriously foppish House of Podmore, she nevertheless gathered her wits about her and drew her wand.
With a wildly flung hex, Ginny managed to render her brothers inactive, glimpsing them tottering about on jelly legs as she beat a hasty retreat. She did not let her mind linger on the thought of their inevitable chastising by the overbearing Sturgis Podmore and vowed to reimburse them should she find their pay had been docked for their ineffectual performance.
With nary a glance behind her, she wheeled about and headed across the grounds, breath heavy in her lungs. She would have to change her plans, considering the possibility that her dear brothers would place a tracking spell on her, or in fact use Muggle methods to reveal her path. Besides interfering with her per diem income, this debacle confounded the rest of her night. She would most certainly be late for her rendezvous with Nymphadora, taking into consideration the additional time spent on her alternate route. Guards would no doubt be called to the area shortly, and Ginny would have to exert no small effort in concealing her whereabouts. Relying on the fact that Sirius Black would pay her as little attention as he had previously suggested, she rode on.
***
Sirius sat, handsome face ashen and creased as he stared at the wall opposite his chair. Resounding within his head still was the sound of Remus' footfalls as he stormed out of Grimmauld Place, nigh on deafening though long past. With an agitated sigh, he felt the awkward rest of his mind within himself. It was as if something was not quite connecting properly--a disjointed jigsaw--and therefore could not settle as it had…before.
Though goodness knows he spent hours attempting to decipher this odd discrepancy, he was nevertheless unable to shake it out. Part of him always managed to suppress his efforts and turn his valuable attention towards other things, as if it were a mystery he was not meant to solve. In the past days he had busied himself with more immediate tasks, instead: setting his home to rights, penning endless floods of correspondence to his admirers, enemies, and legal counsel, and securing invitations to all of society's most vibrant social functions. He held nothing but disdain for the charlatans who took such joy in parading themselves about, and yet he knew he must join them; be seen, be heard, and keep the throngs interested. In addition, though he was loath to admit it to himself, let alone any other soul, he felt he must keep an eye on one Remus J. Lupin. More than an eye, if it were at all conceivable.
As he shifted in his chair, drawing aristocratic fingers through his well-groomed locks, he went through the list in his mind. There would be ton parties, opera appearances, outings to the theatre. Mr. Lupin's company was highly prized these days, despite his impoverished state. From what little he had seen, it was obvious to Sirius that the fresh-faced debutants wanted nothing more than to secure the attention of the confirmed war hero, though he preferred to brood and pace rather than dance and entertain.
It was the soft lines about Remus' mouth, his sad, tired eyes. The mystery inherent in one so graceful and yet so frayed. Sirius understood momentarily, a fragment of his past insinuating itself behind his eyelids only to slip away again. Furrowing his brow in confusion as well as frustration, he stood abruptly, putting all such petty thoughts from his mind. There were affairs to set in order and engagements to keep. He would continue with his plan to follow Moony wherever he may stray, but that would be the end of it. His intentions would never be made clear; it was true what he said to Remus earlier, as cruel as he had been. It was better for those like Remus and Harry if he remained as distant as he had been beyond the Veil. Sirius no longer felt what he should feel, whether he was incapable or simply couldn't be bothered. As it was, it would serve them both well to be received among as many high-ranking wizards as possible, and things would go no further.
A brief snippet of conversation came back to him in that moment. The voice of Kingsley, the egotistical upstart, mocking him as he explained the Marriage Act. That damnable Marriage Act. Suddenly everything-the balls, the overwhelmingly talkative women, the spate of meals he had been asked to take at the various homes of suitable families full of young daughters-took on a skewed meaning, and Sirius' head began to ache. It was a matter for consideration some other time, when his house was not bustling with traffic and young girls and werewolves and everyone and everything he never wanted to see again.
Adjusting his muted green waistcoat, Sirius moved to retrieve his frock coat from where it was draped across the back of a nearby chair. It wouldn't do to encounter any more unexpected guests in anything less than full eveningwear. As he made to find his silk handkerchief where he assumed he had left it in the drawing room the night prior, the sound of boots in the foyer caught his attention. Wearied of visitors and not a little indignant at their continued intrusions, Sirius drew himself up to his full height, glaring down his fine, straight nose at whoever dared to cross his threshold uninvited.
"Good day to you, sir," Harry said, his voice flat and eyes steely. He touched his top hat briefly, not bothering to remove it. "I have come merely to collect some personal items. I shall be only a moment, and hope it will be of no inconvenience to you. Should you require I return at a later date, it would be no bother." Cold and distant, his tone grated in his throat. Before his godfather's less than auspicious return to Grimmauld Place, Harry had made it his own home, in addition to a meeting place for those allied with the correct sort. Considering the currently unfavourable circumstances, however, he knew it best that he impose on the generosity of the current generation of Blacks no longer.
"Yes, of course. I expect your belongings to be gone within the hour, and you with them," Sirius replied, nodding curtly, mouth set in a hard line. "A house elf will be with you shortly. Good day." He exited into the drawing room, pocketing his handkerchief and sending the nearest house elf -he knew none of their names, nor did he care-to expedite young Mr. Potter's chore.
***
Harry stewed quietly in the company of Bapsy, the house elf he assumed Sirius had sent to get him out of the house as quickly as possible and with little to no more personal interaction on his part. Having filled his trunk with loose ends and forgotten baubles, he waited only for his bed linens to be returned to him. As he paced, he wondered at the carriage he'd seen earlier. He was almost certain it belonged to Lupin, though he couldn't be positive. If he had indeed been speaking with Sirius, as Harry knew he must have been, then it was imperative that Harry find out anything he'd learned.
It was clear that Sirius would never let Harry in as he had done before, that he would never forgive him for failing to come to his aid all those years ago, or for not being enough like James. Whatever it was, Sirius could not or would not allow it to pass, and thusly Harry felt that part of him had been wrenched out and trod upon. Ron and Hermione tried their level best to reassure him otherwise, as they always did, and yet fell quite spectacularly short of their goal, as they also always did.
Bapsy packed up the last of Harry's things, following him out with a few other elves to assist with the luggage. Harry took a last look at Grimmauld Place, edifice looking suddenly as cold and uninviting as its master. Tapping the roof of his carriage sharply, he asked the driver to head for Mr. Lupin's residence, post-haste.