Chapter Five
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a pale, silvery light over the dense forest as Christopher Greye moved silently through the underbrush, his wand drawn and senses sharp. Around him, the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig marked the presence of the other Aurors under his command. They were spread out, sweeping through the area with focused precision, but Christopher knew they wouldn't find what they were looking for—not tonight, not ever.
Beside him, Kingsley Shacklebolt moved with the same deliberate, practiced ease, his tall, imposing figure blending into the shadows. Every now and then, Kingsley would glance at Christopher, a subtle, knowing look passing between them. They had been working together for years, and they understood each other well enough to communicate without words. Tonight, that understanding was more crucial than ever.
They were supposed to be leading a hunt—a relentless, all-encompassing search for Sirius Black, the man everyone still believed was a dangerous fugitive, a murderer, the one responsible for betraying James and Lily Potter. But Christopher and Kingsley knew the truth, and that truth had changed everything.
Christopher's thoughts drifted as he pushed aside a low-hanging branch, his wand casting a faint, bluish light over the ground ahead. It had been Remus, and then Dumbledore, who had explained everything—how Sirius had been framed, how Peter Pettigrew was the real traitor, still alive and skulking in the form of a rat. Christopher could hardly believe it at first, but the evidence was undeniable. After all these years, after all the hatred and betrayal, the truth had been right there, hiding in plain sight.
A pang of sadness washed over him as he thought back to his days at Hogwarts, when things had been simpler. He had been part of their group, part of the Marauders. Not as a prankster like James and Sirius, but as someone who admired their unbreakable bond. Christopher had always been close with Remus, and over time, he had grown to consider James, Sirius, and Peter as brothers. They had been inseparable—sharing laughs, adventures, and secrets that seemed like they would last forever.
But that was before everything fell apart. Before Voldemort, before the Order, before the war that took everything and twisted it into something unrecognizable. The night James and Lily died, the night Sirius was taken away in chains... those memories were still as vivid as if they had happened yesterday. Christopher had mourned them, mourned the friendship that had been shattered. But now, after all these years, he realized he had been mourning a lie.
He glanced over at Kingsley, who caught his eye and gave a barely perceptible nod. They both knew this was a wild goose chase, but they had to make it look convincing. The Ministry was breathing down their necks, and they had to play their part—had to make it seem like they were doing everything in their power to catch the supposed fugitive. But deep down, Christopher hoped that wherever Sirius was, he was free, even if just for a little while longer.
Kingsley's deep, steady voice cut through the quiet. "We'll check the east perimeter next," he said, loud enough for the other Aurors to hear. "Keep your eyes sharp. If Black is out there, we need to be ready."
Christopher nodded, playing along. "He won't slip past us," he replied, his tone firm. "But keep it tight. We can't afford any mistakes."
The other Aurors moved to obey, splitting off into smaller groups as they continued their search. As they drifted further away, leaving Christopher and Kingsley alone for a moment, Kingsley leaned in slightly, his voice low. "We'll keep them occupied here for another hour, then report back to the Ministry," he said, his tone calm but resolute. "If Sirius is smart, he's already miles away."
Christopher allowed himself a small, weary smile. "He's always been good at slipping out of tight spots," he murmured. "It's... kind of his thing."
Kingsley chuckled softly, a sound that seemed oddly out of place in the dark, tense forest. "Yeah. Let's hope that hasn't changed."
As they continued their patrol, Christopher's mind wandered back to those days at Hogwarts. He could still picture them, the five of them huddled together in the Gryffindor common room, plotting their next grand adventure. Sirius, with his easy smile and devil-may-care attitude; James, always brimming with energy and mischief; Remus, the voice of reason, even when he was caught up in their schemes; and Peter, who always seemed so eager to be part of something bigger than himself.
How had it all gone so wrong?
Christopher's chest tightened, and he forced himself to focus on the present. He couldn't afford to dwell on the past, not now. Not when there were more important things to think about—like his children. Madelynn, Elizabeth, and Carter. They were his world, his reason for everything he did. Every time he went out on a mission, every time he took a risk, he thought of them. He wanted to protect them, to keep them safe in a world that was still so full of danger, even after Voldemort's fall.
He thought of Madelynn, with her sharp mind and determined spirit, always so composed, even when things got tough. He thought of Elizabeth, with her warm smile and quiet strength, how she'd grown so much in these past few years. And he thought of Carter, his youngest, with his boundless energy and curiosity, always looking up to his sisters and trying to prove himself.
They were at Hogwarts now, just like he had been, living their own lives, making their own friendships. He had to believe that they were safe there, even with the shadow of the Triwizard Tournament looming over everything. He had to believe that he was doing the right thing by leading the Aurors away from Sirius, by giving him a chance to stay hidden, to find whatever peace he could.
Kingsley's voice broke through his thoughts again, softer this time. "You alright, Christopher?"
Christopher nodded, though he could feel the weight of everything pressing down on him. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Just... thinking about the old days. And about my kids."
Kingsley's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "They're good kids. You've done well by them. They'll be fine."
Christopher wanted to believe that. He needed to believe that. "Thanks, Kingsley," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I wish things could have been different. For all of us."
Kingsley's grip on his shoulder tightened briefly before he let go. "We can't change the past. But we can do what we can to make the future better. And right now, that means keeping Sirius safe."
Christopher nodded, his resolve hardening. "Right. Let's keep them busy for a little while longer. We can't let them get too close."
The two men continued their search, their wands at the ready, but their hearts not in the hunt. They knew that they were playing a dangerous game, one that could cost them everything if they were caught. But for the sake of an old friend, for the sake of the truth, it was a risk they were willing to take.
As they moved through the forest, Christopher allowed himself one last, fleeting thought of the Marauders. Of James and Lily, gone but never forgotten. Of Remus, still carrying the scars of the past. Of Peter, who had betrayed them all. And of Sirius, who had been wronged, who deserved a chance to live freely once more.
And as he thought of them, he thought of his own children, and he silently made a promise: he would do everything in his power to make sure they never had to face the same darkness he had. No matter what it took.
Christopher Greye walked down the familiar, echoing corridors, his heavy boots thudding softly against the polished floor. He had just come out of a long, tense meeting with his superiors, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was going home.
Two months. Two long, grueling months of leading a fruitless hunt for Sirius Black. Every day had been the same — tracking down false leads, running drills with his team, keeping up the charade. It had been exhausting, mentally and physically, but Christopher had maintained the act, knowing that every day he managed to throw the Ministry off Sirius's trail was another day his old friend was safe.
But it had taken a toll on him. He could see it every time he caught his reflection in a mirror — the lines of exhaustion etched into his face, the dark circles under his eyes. He had been keeping up the pretense of tireless dedication, but now, even the Ministry could see that he was worn thin. They had decided it was time for him to rest, to go home and recuperate before coming back with a "fresh mind." It wasn't a request, it was an order, and one he wasn't entirely unhappy to receive.
As he left the meeting room, Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for him in the corridor, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed. Kingsley's expression was hard to read, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes as he looked at Christopher.
"They're sending you home, then?" Kingsley asked, his voice low.
Christopher nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he let out a tired sigh. "Yeah. Two months of nothing, and they think a bit of sleep will make a difference. Can't say I disagree, though."
Kingsley pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer so they could speak quietly, without risk of being overheard. "You've done what you needed to do, Chris. Kept them chasing their tails. Sirius is still out there, and that's because of you."
Christopher's lips curled into a small, weary smile. "I'm just glad we managed to keep them off his back. But it hasn't been easy."
Kingsley's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Christopher's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "I know. And you've been holding up longer than most would have. But go home. See your kids. Get some rest. We'll keep things steady here while you're away."
Christopher nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. The thought of going home — of seeing his children, of being somewhere familiar and safe — was like a lifeline. He missed them more than he could put into words. For two months, his life had been consumed by the hunt, by the lies and the deception, and he had barely been able to spare a moment to think of anything else. But now, he could finally breathe.
"Thanks, Kingsley," he said quietly, his voice sincere. "I don't think I could have done this without you."
Kingsley's mouth twitched into a small smile. "I'll keep them busy here, don't you worry. And if there's any news... you'll be the first to know."
With that, Kingsley gave him a firm nod, and Christopher turned to leave. The walk to the Floo Network felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of the past two months. But as he stepped into the emerald flames and spoke his destination — "Greye Manor"
The familiar creak of the old wooden floors echoed through the grand entrance hall. The house was still and quiet, and he felt the emptiness settle around him like a heavy cloak. Times like this, he'd catch himself thinking about what it would be like to have someone to come home to, someone to share the silence with. He'd had that, once, but Rowan... well, she'd turned out to be a different kind of person altogether. Manipulative, deceitful, and dangerous. She hadn't just left him; she'd left scars he hadn't fully healed from, and the idea of opening himself up to someone again felt like a risk he wasn't ready to take.
He dropped his bag by the door and rubbed a hand over his tired face. What am I even doing? he thought. He'd spent so many years working, fighting, keeping the world safe, and now, without his kids around, it felt like all he had was work. And even that was just a performance to keep an old friend safe.
Christopher moved to the sitting room, planning to pour himself a drink and collapse on the sofa for a while. But as he stepped into the room, he froze, his heart stopping for a moment as he registered the figure standing by the fireplace.
"Hello, Chris."
Christopher's hand instinctively went to his wand, his eyes narrowing as he processed the familiar, slightly gruff voice. It was a voice he hadn't heard in years, except through whispers and echoes. But there he was, standing there like a ghost that had suddenly stepped out of his past.
"Sirius?" Christopher breathed, his mind reeling. "What the hell—how—?"
Sirius Black was leaning against the mantle, a weary but genuine smile on his face. His dark hair was longer and wilder than it used to be, and his eyes had a haunted, sunken look, but there was still that old spark in them—the same spark Christopher remembered from their days at Hogwarts, the same one that had driven Sirius to throw caution to the wind, even when it meant putting himself in danger.
"Sorry for dropping by unannounced," Sirius said, his tone light, though there was a seriousness beneath it. "I figured I'd... surprise you."
Christopher's hand slowly lowered from his wand as he blinked, still trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Merlin's beard, Sirius... I forgot I even offered the manor as a safe house. I thought you'd be hiding out at Grimmauld Place."
Sirius's smile turned a bit wry. "I was, for a while. But... Grimmauld is stifling, and I needed a place to lay low where I wouldn't feel like the walls were closing in on me. You remember how I always hated that place."
Christopher could only nod, still stunned. "I... I can't believe you're here. I've been leading a wild goose chase to keep them off your back, but I never thought you'd come here."
"I know," Sirius said, pushing himself off the mantle and taking a step closer, his expression softening. "And I can't thank you enough for that. I know what you've been doing, Chris. You and Kingsley... you're the reason I'm still out here, free."
Christopher swallowed hard, his mind catching up to the moment as he finally allowed himself to relax. "I'd do it a thousand times over, Sirius. After what they did to you... after everything you've been through..." He shook his head, the anger and frustration from all those years bubbling to the surface. "I'm sorry. I should've... I should've known something was wrong. I should've tried harder."
Sirius's expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Christopher's shoulder. "You couldn't have known, Chris. None of us did. Peter fooled us all, and... I paid the price. But that's not your fault."
Christopher felt a lump in his throat as he looked at his old friend, seeing the years of pain and struggle etched into his face. "I thought I'd never see you again," he admitted, his voice raw. "Not like this."
Sirius smiled, though it was a little sad, a little tired. "Well, here I am. For now, at least. I don't know how long I can stay... but I wanted to see you. I wanted to thank you."
Christopher couldn't help but laugh, a shaky, relieved sound. "Thank me? Sirius, I'm just glad you're okay." He paused, his thoughts turning to his children. "Elizabeth, Madelynn, and Carter... they've heard about you. They know the truth, now. I wish you could see them. They'd love to meet you properly."
Sirius's eyes brightened at the mention of Christopher's children. "You've got good kids, Chris. I've heard about them from Remus. And... well, I'd like to meet them, one day. If I can."
Christopher's heart ached a little at the thought. He wanted nothing more than for his kids to meet Sirius, to see the man who had been such a huge part of his life. But he knew the risks, and he wouldn't put them in danger. "Maybe one day," he said softly. "When all this is over."
Sirius nodded, understanding. "Yeah. One day."
The two of them stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hanging between them. It was surreal, having Sirius there, in his home, after everything that had happened. It felt like a small glimmer of hope in a world that had been dark for too long.
Finally, Christopher broke the silence, a smile creeping onto his face. "Well, since you're here... might as well make yourself comfortable. You're not going anywhere tonight, at least."
Sirius's smile widened, and for a moment, he looked like the boy Christopher remembered from Hogwarts, the boy who had always been quick with a joke, always ready for adventure. "I suppose I could use a bit of a rest. It's been a long couple of months."
Christopher nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Yeah. Me too."
As the night wore on, the two old friends found themselves sitting in the dimly lit sitting room, a bottle of firewhisky between them.
Christopher and Sirius sat across from each other, each nursing a glass of firewhisky. It was the first time in years they had been able to truly relax together, and for the moment, the weight of the outside world seemed to fade away. They'd been talking for hours, slipping easily into the rhythm of their old friendship, sharing stories of Hogwarts, of mischief, of the glory days when the Marauders had ruled the school's corridors.
Christopher's eyes sparkled with nostalgia as he recounted a memory of James and Sirius trying—and failing—to charm a flock of enchanted birds to sing the Gryffindor anthem. "I swear, they nearly pecked your head off, Sirius. James had to cast a Shield Charm just to get you out of there."
Sirius laughed, a deep, genuine laugh that echoed through the room. "Well, we were trying to spread some Gryffindor pride! Who knew those birds would be so aggressive?"
Christopher chuckled, shaking his head. "You two never knew when to quit, that's for sure."
Sirius took a sip of his drink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And you, always the voice of reason, trying to keep us from getting expelled."
"Someone had to make sure you survived until graduation," Christopher replied, smirking. "Even if you made it difficult."
For a while, they sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, letting the memories wash over them. But then Sirius's expression grew more serious, and he looked at Christopher with a kind of curiosity he hadn't shown before. "You know, Chris... we've talked about everything from the past, but there's one thing I've never really understood."
Christopher raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? What's that?"
Sirius hesitated for a moment, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rowan. How did you end up with her?" He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I mean, back then, you seemed... so sure about her."
Christopher stiffened, the relaxed ease in his posture disappearing almost instantly. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn in this direction, and he wasn't sure how to respond. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice quiet. "I was sure... at first."
Sirius set his glass down, leaning forward slightly. "What happened?" he asked, his voice gentle but insistent. "I always wondered. One minute you were head over heels, and the next... she was gone."
Christopher let out a slow, deep breath, staring into the amber liquid in his glass as if it might hold the answers. "It's... not easy to explain," he said, his voice low. "I haven't talked about it much. But I suppose you deserve to know."
Sirius didn't push, just waited, giving Christopher the space to find his words. That was one thing that hadn't changed about him—his ability to listen when it mattered.
"It was love at first," Christopher said, his eyes distant, lost in memories. "I don't think I'd ever felt that way about anyone before. She was... everything. Mysterious, clever, beautiful. She had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room, like nothing else mattered."
Sirius nodded slowly. "I remember that. You couldn't stop talking about her... how she made you feel alive."
Christopher's lips twitched into a small, sad smile. "Yeah. And for a while, it was perfect. But then... things changed. After we got married, I started noticing things. Little things. The people she'd meet with, the conversations she'd have when she thought I wasn't paying attention." He paused, his expression darkening. "I found out she was involved... with them. With the Death Eaters."
Sirius's eyes narrowed slightly, and he took another sip of his drink, letting the warmth settle in his chest. "And that's when things went bad, wasn't it?"
Christopher nodded, his jaw tightening. "I tried to confront her. Told her I wanted out, that I didn't want to be a part of whatever she was involved in. But she... she wouldn't let me leave. It was like she thought she could convince me, or... change my mind. And when that didn't work..."
He trailed off, his voice cracking slightly, and Sirius leaned in, his expression intense. "What did she do, Chris?"
Christopher swallowed hard, his hands gripping the glass tightly. "She put me under the Imperius Curse."
The room went silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. Sirius's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of shock and anger flashing across his face. "She... Merlin, Chris. That's... I can't even imagine..."
"It was like living in a dream," Christopher said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'd wake up every morning, and everything would feel normal. Perfect, even. But I wasn't... there. I wasn't me. I was just... a puppet."
Sirius's gaze softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Christopher's arm. "How long?"
"Months," Christopher said, his voice raw. "I didn't even realize it at first. I thought I was just... confused. But every time I'd have a moment of clarity, she'd pull me back under. And then Carter was born, and I knew... I had to find a way out."
Sirius let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to process what he was hearing. "How did you get out?"
"The Ministry," Christopher said, his eyes hardening. "They raided the house. Someone tipped them off about Rowan's connections, and they broke down the door. When they found me, they broke the curse... and it was like waking up from a nightmare."
Sirius's grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles white. "I can't believe she... she did that to you. To her own husband. And with Carter there... he was just a baby..."
Christopher nodded, his gaze distant. "She was arrested. Taken to Azkaban. And I... was left to pick up the pieces. I had three kids, and they didn't understand why their mother was gone, why everything had changed so suddenly. I had to keep it together, for them. I had to make sure they were okay."
Sirius was quiet for a long moment, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so... so sorry."
"It's not your fault," Christopher said, his voice tired. "I should have seen it. I should have known."
"No," Sirius said, his voice firm. "You can't blame yourself for that. Rowan... she took advantage of you. She manipulated you, controlled you. That's on her, not you."
Christopher let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I'd like to believe that. But it's hard not to think about what I missed, what I let happen right under my nose."
Sirius leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "You did what you had to do, Chris. You got out. You protected your kids. That's more than most people could have managed."
Christopher glanced at him, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Sirius. That... means a lot, coming from you."
Sirius nodded, his gaze softening. "You're stronger than you think, mate. And those kids of yours... they're lucky to have you."
Christopher took a deep breath, feeling a warmth spread through his chest, a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. "I just... I wish I could have done more. But I'm trying. Every day, I'm trying."
"And you're doing a damn good job," Sirius said, raising his glass. "To surviving. To getting through the worst of it."
Christopher hesitated for a moment, then raised his own glass, clinking it gently against Sirius's. "To surviving," he echoed, his voice steady.