Sirius Black

So, er, Charlie mentioned that ... well, he said in passing that you've been feeling loads of pressure and that it's partly what prompted what he called wanting to 'run away from home.'

I mean to say, everyone deserves a holiday now and then and beyond that, I hope if you ever feel as if you need to leave the Ministry or change what you're doing for the Order, you've only to say and we'll make the necessary adjustments. It's useful but not if it means sacrificing your sanity, love.

But the way Charlie said it sounded as if it were something more related to home - that is, to Doughty Conduit and Grimmauld.

And I just .... I wanted to make sure - I mean, ask: It's not something I've done, is it? I mean, I've not made you feel uncomfortable or unwelcome or unappreciated or anything, I hope. And if I have done, or if it's something else - well. I hope you'd tell me (or even tell Remus to tell me) so I can try to stop whatever's the problem. If I can, that is.

Of course, if it's something Remus did, feel free to hex his ears off. I might even help. (If it was Kreacher I'll definitely help!)

I don't mean to sound like I assume that the way you feel is at heart an issue that's all about me, far from it. Just that I know if there's one person who could uncomplicate your life just by not existing, it's me. So naturally I'm going to treat myself as the prime suspect in your unhappiness. If that makes sense. Or at least that I must be guilty until proven innocent.

Anyway. It's a long-winded way of saying: Whatever's wrong, if anything is wrong, don't keep it to yourself, kiddo.

I couldn't help but notice that Miss Parkinson fell ill today. Is she all right?

She didn't mention what made her feel unwell, by chance, did she?

If not ... I think I may know what set her off. In case you need to know in order to help.

And if she did tell you anything ... well, have at. I know it was bound to pour vinegar on the wound but - well, I couldn't see a way round it. And I guess I underestimated her reaction, at that.

I'm sorry I have to go. I mean to say, now. Too bad the solstice isn't in a month, or something.

I guess there's one good thing about it: It'll give me a chance to get in some Christmas shopping without you and Dora knowing what I'm getting.

How long have you known?

I swear I always thought he didn't fancy blokes.

You asked what happened with Terrie and like I said, I've been wanting to tell you - I'm still trying to figure it all out myself.

First, though, tell Dora I'll travel on Tuesday, okay? Lucinda got a message to the witch in Cotgrave - her name is Langworthy - and we're to meet tomorrow.

Well.

I guess the first thing I should do is reassure you that I have not abandoned Terrie. Things are far from resolved but it's not as if I've simply chucked her or anything.

It's funny, though, the things I never thought would matter but do. I think I told you that there's a strong possibility that her child was fathered by her boss. She admitted that much right away, it's part of what's upsetting her. Merlin knows I sympathise - no witch in her right mind would want to make a baby with that bastard - but I can't quite ignore that she knew the risk when she dropped her protections. I certainly can't ignore that she made the decision without my consent, either.

So I guess, under those circumstances, I have to admit that the child's paternity does matter to me. Though not entirely for the reasons she assumed. When I asked if she intended to perform a paternity charm, she turned defensive as anything. Some of her accusations were probably on the mark - as I said, I am somewhat doubtful the child's mine, since it was barely four weeks since I'd seen her when she told me, so the timing was awfully quick if she hadn't been expecting to succeed. And she's right that if Birchmore caught even a whiff of Terrie going to a hedgewitch for a paternity test he'd start by firing her and it'd get worse from there.

The real reason's far more complicated, of course. But that's not important right now. What's important is that she assumed I'd tell her exactly what you assumed I'd tell her; That I don't care who the father is, that I'll stay involved either way, that of course I love her and I'll love the child and - well.

And it's not that I blame her, exactly, for wanting someone to save her from Birchmore's attentions. But it's not as if I can simply acknowledge the child and marry her and send her off to Moddey. She's still reticent to work for the Order on a regular basis - doesn't even really want to know more about us, save what she's already guessed and done. She's afraid. Afraid for her mother, afraid to lose what she's already managed to scrape together for herself - and frankly I don't think, deep down, she really wants to leave that life.

As for my other reasons .... It's just. You know, I always said I didn't want kids of my own. I've even been careful to avoid women who already have children or who might want to settle down. Now that I'm confronted with the prospect, I realise - it does matter to me whether the child is a Black. Especially if it's a boy. Isn't that odd?

I just - we can't seem to come to any sort of agreement about it. I know what she wants me to say and do, I know that at least in part she deliberately manipulated the situation so that I would feel obligated to rescue her. And yet she doesn't really want rescue so much as ... legitimacy. Which I don't have to point out to you is the one thing I certainly can't give her in the eyes of the Protectorate.

I told her that I couldn't take responsibility for the child without knowing for sure that I'm the father. She said she might be able to get her mediwitch to test this month - it's her four-month check, so that's the right timing anyway, as you probably know better than I. Until then, we're at an impasse, I suppose.

Well. That's what's happened. Now it's your turn to tell me I'm out of order and then Allie will do and then - I dunno, I suppose I'll live in a cave like a hermit rather than risk this sort of pickle again.