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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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PADFOOT RETURNS

Favorite chapter of this book! I don't care you still don't need to know this.

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Sirius, who clearly still had that last task stuck in his craw, grumbled at Harry, "Well this does prove I was right about Krum, and Cedric. Anyone who leaves those other kids down in that lake are to be avoided by you at all costs."

Lily was frowning down at the little infant in her arms sadly, but still tried for some good, "I don't know Sirius, maybe we were being too harsh on them. Cedric at least, after all, before I heard about Harry's first year it never would have crossed my mind Dumbledore wouldn't put some contingency in place to make sure the unrescued kids came back to the surface. Cedric hasn't had the same bad feelings about Dumbledore recently as we had, I'm sure he just had faith enough not to take that song literally."

Sirius rolled his eyes, clearly not in all agreement, but Remus had a happy smile in place, clearly liking to the idea. "You gave me an interesting idea about Krum as well, what if he saw Dumbledore talking to those merpeople, and pieced the whole thing together from there."

"I can see that," Lily instantly agreed, "he's been staying out on the lake, any Durmstrang student could have seen Dumbledore discussing the task with them, or even more realistically, I'll bet Karkaroff told Krum as soon as he knew that he only had to worry about his one hostage."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Karkaroff did know the others would drown and told Krum to leave them down there anyways," Sirius rolled his eyes at the two of them." *

Harry and James exchanged a look, clearly realizing Sirius was looking to pick a fight, while everyone else just wanted to move on away from that task, so Harry leaned over to Sirius and gently restrained, "I'm positive I'll take your advice as seriously after the task as I did before."

Sirius was instantly derailed, turning back to Harry with a brilliant smile as he declared, "Well how else would you take advice from me?"

Lily and Remus rolled their eyes at him and looked pleadingly at James to go while he had the chance.

James still had a stupid happy smile stuck in place, hoping beyond all measure that Harry would just breeze through the last task and that until that had to arrive they'd spend the rest of his school year hearing of nothing more than homework and actual fun things to laugh about.

One highlight of the aftermath of this task, was Ron getting far more attention than Harry for once.

"Why?" Sirius couldn't help but ask, some nasty memories resurfacing of the last time Ron had been in the limelight, that hadn't been pleasant for Sirius. "Ron was asleep the whole time."

"Everyone saw Fleur kiss him along with Harry," Remus reminded, "and I can all to easily picture Harry shoving Ron in the way when anyone asked why."

People were clamoring to hear his time down in the lake, and at first Ron seemed to be telling the truth. How the teachers had collected them, promised their safety, and he'd awaken when he reached the surface. A week later however, his tale had been embellished to include a fight for his life against a dozen merpeople, single handedly defending all of the women as they forced him under.

"I like the second story better," James beamed. "Its sounds like a thrilling tale."

"Ron's always been the best at those," Sirius snickered in agreement.

He made sure to assure Padma, who'd been much more taken with Ron since all this started, that he'd had the situation under control that whole time.

"Of course," Lily huffed with disgust at such a flighty girl. Ron acting like this was giving her some annoying flashbacks to James as well, so she wasn't going to pretend to enjoy any of this.

Hermione was not as pleased with his little stunts. She'd been snappish lately with all the people mocking her for being Viktor's missing person, and whenever she caught Ron she'd snap all he could do was snore them to submission.

"Teasing might not affect Hermione," James couldn't help a sympathetic smile for her, "but it certainly gets to her."

"Notes for the future," Harry said simply.

Ron blanched in surprise at her quip, and quickly went back to the real version afterwards.

"Least Hermione keeps him in place," Lily approved.

March came with drier weather, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds.

"I miss Quidditch," James sighed.

Owl post was getting delayed slightly by the buffeting winds, but Sirius' brown owl still managed to make a landing the Friday before Hogsmeade. It took off the moment Harry untied the note, clearly not up for making a return trip.

Harry was the only one who gave a laugh, the others were to on edge for the reply. Sirius' last note had not been promising.

This letter was almost as short as the previous one, simply requesting Harry meet him at an old stile in the back of Hogsmeade at two tomorrow, and to bring food.

They all sat there in a bit of dumbfounded silence for a moment.

Lily cracked first, saying with the most sincerity than she ever had in her life, "I am going to strangle you."

"Bring food?" James demanded, his voice cracking on the last word so that he couldn't have continued if he'd wanted to. James felt like an idiot, he'd made the joke himself that Sirius would probably have to steal a cake, but how much was he eating on the run?

Sirius had a torn look on his face, somewhere between he wanted to laugh them all off for thinking he was in danger like his usual idiotic self, and the rest was curiosity. He somehow managed to ask as if for the weather, "wonder what I'm up to."

"Would you please, for just a moment, pretend like this is dangerous," Remus sighed.

Sirius clucked his tongue at him in agitation, stating, "Never stopped me before. I'm just curious what I finally couldn't put in a letter, or maybe I'm just sick of owl post and want to see my Godson."

The baby in Lily's lap had been growing increasingly fussy, so Lily excused herself to put him down for a nap while still muttering about murder.

James fidgeted with the pages until she got back, honestly debating holding him down for her the whole time, but in the end he reminded himself it wouldn't be fair to murder Sirius just for mouthing off in here. In fact James was almost getting his wish, at least Harry and Sirius having a conversation face to face should be some modicum of fun, his best friend was probably right and just wanted to check in on Harry and no one should be looking for him in Hogsmeade, this should turn out fine.

Harry and Hermione were incredulous he'd really come back, but Ron brushed them off and said he'd been away from dementors this long, he obviously knew what he was doing.

"Thank you Ron," Sirius said a little extra loudly, still with an insufferably cocky look in place that no one was going to catch him.

As Harry tucked away his letter, he was surprised that he honestly felt better with the idea of seeing Sirius again.

"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph, while Harry was in such a good mood with the most recent task finally being over he couldn't do anything but roll his eyes back.

So he headed down to his Potions class in a much better mood than normal.

Of course that was ruined the moment he saw the standard group of Slytherins all standing in a group, snickering over something.

"Well this never starts well," Lily grumbled, clearly the only one clinging to her unease over Sirius. She was equally annoyed at her boys trying to brush this off as a spot of fun, and just as unwilling to argue it otherwise. She relinquished Sirius had been out long enough it wasn't one hundred percent suicidal to come back, more like seventy five.

Pansy caught sight of them first, gesturing wildly at them to get the others attention.

"I'm with Lily," Remus groaned, "prepare to be annoyed just by that."

Harry saw a magazine in her hands, Witch Weekly.

"Guess that's better than the Daily Prophet," Sirius narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

"Not by much," James grumbled.

Then Pansy gave the paper a toss to Hermione, telling her she should have a good read of it. At that moment Snape opened the door, and they all had to file in.

"Of course this had to happen inside there," Sirius snapped, "at least when this stuff comes up in Care of Creatures you know Hagrid'll back you up."

"I'm sure they planned it this way just for that," Lily sniffed.

The three friends set up their cauldrons in the back of the room like always, but instead of pulling out their ingredients they all leaned over Hermione's magazine as she riffled through it.

The piece wasn't hard to find, another photo of Harry was spotted over the title Harry Potter's Secret Heartache. The article starts by reminding everyone that Harry had grown up without love while being deprived of his parents,

Lily and James flushed in hatred already for this, did that have to keep coming up!

was at least equaled out with the love he'd seemed to find in his school life was Hermione Granger.

"Didn't this already come up?" Sirius scoffed, "Skeeter must be running out of material if she's rehashing your love life."

"Let's hope she just runs out altogether soon," Harry sighed.

Sadly for Harry, he may not even be aware of his own suffering. Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl,

"She needs to keep her own story straight," Remus reminded, "she keeps changing her own description of just how pretty she thinks Hermione is."

"We've well established her facts change to fit her story," Lily huffed.

had recently been seen in more company of Viktor Krum. Clearly the girl had a love of famed Quidditch players, though it was clear neither boy knew of the other. Krum himself had been heard saying he'd never felt this way about another girl, even inviting her to his country over the summer.

The real crux was, it most likely wasn't Miss Granger's charm the cause of this.

Skeeter had interviewed a few students to get the real story, and Pansy Parkinson had happily stepped up in the story to report how intelligent Hermione was, it was more than possible Hermione was using Love Potions on these boys.

Love Potions were banned at Hogwarts of course, and this reporter only hoped the matter would be looked into soon before someone's heart was broken forever.

"That's all there is," James finished with a disappointed shake in his head, "thankfully. I'm relieved, I was fixing to start laughing at how ridiculous that was."

"I can still see why Skeeter tried to go that way for Hermione," Lily shook her head furiously, "that really would be traumatizing for some girls to have that printed about them."

"Hopefully Hermione'll take this as she did the other one," Remus said.

Ron was furious for Hermione, even as he couldn't stop an I told you so for her. Skeeter had gone and printed this about Hermione, turning her into a scarlet woman.

"Well he's not wrong," Lily couldn't resist a smile for Ron.

Hermione stopped looking down at the paper and began to laugh at Ron's choice of words, now shaking with giggles.

"I'm sure that's the exact reaction Skeeter was hoping Hermione would have," James beamed with pride.

"Laughing in the face of it all," Sirius agreed at once, "best way to face life."

"You're still not off the hook mister," Lily told him at once. "If you get yourself caught and killed for being an idiot, I'm going to kill you."

"And just what's it to you?" Sirius demanded with an impetuous smirk, clearly all at ease with digging his own grave.

"It means a great deal to me," Remus sniffed back, his mind scrambling to play this off and blast away the worry really eating at them. "As I take great comfort in knowing it'll be my hand that'll be the death of you one day."

Sirius most likely would have kept going, for some deranged reason he seemed to feel the way to make them feel better was throwing out more jokes at this, but James was in no way amused and kept reading loudly around them.

Ron said that's what his mum called them.

Hermione was not impressed, saying if that was the best Skeeter could do, she'd lost her touch.

"As if she ever had one," Lily scoffed, "so far all of her stories have been nothing but dribble."

The Slytherins were watching her expectantly for a reaction, but Hermione simply waved pleasantly at them.

"Never let it be said Hermione doesn't know how to play a situation," James smiled happily at the girl.

The three finally began on their potion for today, a Wit-Sharpening Potion.

Only a few minutes in though, Hermione began how odd it was

"That Snape's never used that Wit-Sharpening Potion on himself," Remus offered with wide eyed innocence.

about Skeeter knowing...

When she trailed off, Ron quickly yelped in surprise if she had been making Love Potions?

"That was his first thought?" James snorted.

"Not that I believe she'd do it," Lily shrugged, "but I'd be the last person to be surprised that she could. Ron would know the same thing."

Hermione snapped at him for being stupid, no what she was surprised was how Skeeter knew about Krum inviting her to Bulgaria.

"I thought that was just more made up stuff," Sirius said in surprise.

She was blushing in embarrassment by the end of admitting to this.

Ron dropped his pestle in shock as he looked at her.

Hermione tried to ignore this and quickly got the whole thing out, telling out he'd asked her just after he'd pulled her out of the lake.

Ron demanded what her answer was, now trying to grind up his desk more than his ingredients.

All four of them were snickering now, though at least trying to hide it at Harry's bewildered stare. He wasn't sure if they were laughing at Ron or something else altogether like he was thinking, but did not want to discuss it.

Hermione tried to ignore him, unsuccessfully by going all the more red, as she agreed he'd been quoted saying he'd never felt this way about another girl.

"I cannot believe she's actually admitting this to them," Remus shook his head.

"This is why Hermione needs some friends who are girls," Lily sighed for the poor thing. She knew full well how that could feel.

That didn't explain how Skeeter knew this, she hadn't been around when Krum had said that, no one had. Perhaps she'd had an Invisibility Cloak on and was sneaking around?

"Would not put it past her," James grumbled.

Ron repeatedly demanded what her answer to Krum had been, knocking the desk so hard with his pestle he put a dent in it.

"I'm thinking Ron wants an answer to that," Sirius raised a brow.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" James kept trying to repress giggles while continuing.

Hermione began to admit that she hadn't a chance to answer before Harry appeared- but was cut off by Snape saying from behind them that he was docking ten points from Gryffindor for discussing their business in his class.

Amusement instantly gone and snatched away because of that insect, no one had the heat to snap at him this time, it went without saying at this point.

The whole class turned as Snape hovered over the three of them, Harry getting another wave of POTTER STINKS badges from Malfoy.

"Might as well glue that to his arse, or his forehead, same thing at this point," Sirius huffed.

Snape caught sight of the magazine, docking another ten points for having this in class, then finding the article and even reading the title out loud.

Lily was gnashing her teeth furiously to hold back the abundance of things she'd like to throw in his face for all the petty comments. It was sick how he was living his dream come true, being able to humiliate her son at every opportunity, when most likely he was really looking down on James in all these moments.

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. Going one step further, Snape then began to read the article aloud.

"I-He!" Remus spluttered, sure he must have heard that one wrong.

"There's logic for you," James lip curled, "he took their points away for reading it, and then reads it. Remind me again why I never got around to blowing this one to Norway?"

"Don't ask me mate," Sirius was glaring at nothing and not even pretending it was a joke, "I suggested at least once a week we hogtie him and leave him to the Forest, but no one would let me do it."

"Next time you get the opportunity," Remus told him sincerely, "I'll run interference while you get the rope."

They snarked on long enough at the injustice of this, but James forced himself to reread that bilge through Snape.

The whole thing came across ten times worse in Snape's cruel tones.

When he was done, Snape came to the conclusion it was time to split these three up to keep them on their work. He made Ron stay where he was, moved Hermione to sit by Pansy,

"Please tell me Hermione's brilliant enough to make that blow up without her noticing," Lily pleaded of nothing.

and put Harry in the table in front of his desk.

"I'll pause for the miracle he didn't put him beside Malfoy," James groaned, an honest toss up of which would have been worse, Harry next to him or continued interaction with Snape!

Harry furiously obeyed, dragging his cauldron to the front and slamming into his new seat to continue his potion.

Snape retook his seat but Harry refused to look up at him, determined not to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing how angry he was as he began smashing his own scarab beetles, imagining each one as Snape's face.

"You know what, I like Harry's idea better," Sirius nodded along. "It'd be much more personal and fun to turn him into a potion ingredient."

"Won't deny loving the irony of that," James agreed.

Snape began whispering for Harry's ears alone how all of this press attention was inflating his already large head.

Harry denied response, he knew Snape was trying to provoke him, he'd done so before.

"When did Snape provoke you before?" Lily cast her mind back. "He seems much more fond of humiliating the life out of you and then docking points."

"When he found out I had the Map," Harry reminded, "tried to get me into admitting I'd been visiting Hogsmeade."

"Oh yeah," she rolled her eyes at that resurfacing memory of him taking potshots at James. The incident with Remus afterwards had burned that away a bit.

No doubt Snape was hoping to take a whole fifty points from Gryffindor before class was up.

"The day is just wasted if you haven't," Sirius scowled.

Snape persisted in saying that Harry may be delusional enough to think the whole world was in love with him, ignoring the fact that Harry had long since turned his beetles into a fine powder, but Snape knew better. He didn't care how many times Harry was in the papers,

"Really?" Harry mock outraged with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "Because I've been putting in so much hard work to garner his approval!"

"It's too bad you can't say things like that to him without risking detention," Remus sighed.

"The detention would be worth it," Sirius huffed.

Potter would always be a nasty little boy who gave no consideration to the rules.

Harry finally gave his powder to his potion and turned on his roots instead, his hand shaking so bad the cuts weren't nearly as precise as they should be. Still he refused to respond and give Snape the satisfaction.

"I'm glad you're taking Hermione's path at least," Lily sighed, "he'll get less satisfaction if you act like he's not getting to you."

"Much more self-satisfying to get him back later, when he's lesser expecting it," James mock agreed with his wife, though she wasn't going to argue with him.

Snape promised this warning, if he ever caught Harry breaking into his office one more time-

"He's never broken into your office period," Remus said like speaking to an idiotic child.

"Technically," Sirius added on with a faint smile, "and Snape can't prove otherwise."

"That was two years ago though," James cocked his head to the side, "or is he really blaming Harry for, well whatever that mess with Crouch was."

"He blames everything on me," Harry reminded.

"I'm sure he's tried to get you expelled for every instance that went on at school, and at some point Dumbledore just stopped opening the door for him," James said wistfully, thinking about slamming a door in his face as well, or more on his face.

Harry snapped at that, saying he'd never been in Snape's office.

Snape's black eyes glowed with hatred as he hissed back all of his missing supplies, the Boomslang skin and Gillyweed, all from his private cupboards.

"Wait, now I'm confused," Lily made a rewind motion. "Dobby took the Gillyweed, but what's this about the Boomslang skin? Again, that happened years ago, I'm blasted he's really connecting the events."

"Again," Remus pointed out, "he clearly blames Harry for everything that goes wrong in his life, and I'm not really surprised if he's been in waiting to throw this at him since he found out."

"But it is rather odd," James had his head cocked to the side, "he's talking like this happened when Crouch was in his office, but he can't have stolen either of those, it doesn't add up."

"With what?" Sirius demanded of him. "We never even found out why he was there in the first place."

"What are the odds Crouch happened to steal the exact ingredient Harry had need of, and something he also stole two years ago," Lily said back.

Sirius had no reply, none of them did. This was such an inane mystery no one even had a clue how to begin to puzzle it out.

Harry stared back with a blank face, refusing to acknowledge this. It was in fact Hermione and Dobby who Snape should really be looking to, but Harry wasn't going to be saying that. Instead he lied, stating he had no clue about anything.

Snape hissed back he knew Harry was out of bed that night his office had been ransacked.

"While he's technically not wrong about that," Remus rolled his eyes.

"He still has no proof it was Harry," Sirius finished for him. "There are three other champions that egg could have belonged to, but of course he's still convinced, without proof, it was Harry."

Lily wanted to scold him this time it was good enough evidence, the map and the egg together wouldn't leave an idiot stumped, but that wasn't Sirius' point and she knew it.

Snape had no clue why Moody had joined Potter's fan club,

"Oh, do we finally have proof that exists," James asked mildly. "What did Colin and Ginny name it anyways?"

"Potter Doesn't Really Stink," Sirius offered to Harry's trying to ignore them both, about as successfully as he'd been ignoring Snape.

but even he couldn't save Harry from Snape when he caught him.

"About as thoroughly as he has in the past," Remus stated with a winning smile, making them all give a hearty laugh in appreciation for that; because Harry hadn't ever technically been in trouble for any of this.

Harry mildly agreed he'd keep that in mind if ever he had a wish to go for Snape's office.

"You just know it's on his top ten list," Sirius nodded along.

"Right up there with going back into the Forest, going to another Death Day party, and going back to the Chamber," Remus agreed.

Snape's eyes flashed, his hand tucked inside his robes, and for an actual moment Harry was sure Snape was about to curse him.

"I'll skin him alive," Lily said dangerously, wishing now more than ever she could leave these walls for the simple use of acting on that.

Instead he pulled out a clear bottle that looked like it held water. Snape asked if Harry knew what this was.

This time, completely honestly, Harry said no.

"Not that it's ever stopped you before," James said.

Snape explained it was Veritaserum, a Truth Potion so powerful just three drops and Harry would spill every secret he'd ever had.

"And illegal to use on the unwitting," Lily hissed.

Harry ruffled his brows at her, casting his mind back to a not at all pleasant conversation where he'd try to offer ideas to prove Sirius' innocence. This potion had come up, and he asked, "If you can't use it on people on trial because they're expecting it, and you can't use it on someone who isn't expecting it, what's it used for?"

"Nothing," Lily deflated a bit at talking to her son, though venom was still clear in her tone even not directed at him. "It's basically illegal to even own any amount unless you have specific license to study under a few fields. Snape would be allowed to have some I suppose, being a potion's teacher and all, but that doesn't give him the right to use it on anyone!" She finished, trying to force herself not to shout there at the end.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let him use it," Remus offered without any real hope.

"Dumbledore should be stopping a lot of things that keep happening," Sirius snapped back bitterly.

Snape conceded there were many restrictions placed on the use of this potion, but one day Snape's hand may just slip over Potter's evening drink.

"And ironically," Lily put her hands up in exasperation, "Snape still wouldn't get his end results."

"Though a few worse things would come out than breaking into a teacher's office," James muttered, keeping a careful eye on his best friend.

Harry turned away with false indifference, ignoring how uncomfortable that potion made him feel. Snape may not get the confession he'd be wanting, but Harry knew how much trouble not only his friends would be in, but also far worse things could happen. Like his admission to being in contact with Sirius, and his crush on Cho.

Sirius couldn't help it, he broke all tension in the room by snorting with laughter, and not stopping there by doubling over and still holding his sides with amusement.

Harry was bright scarlet already, trying in vain to get James to keep going who was paying him no attention, clearly just as amused as Padfoot that Harry's embarrassment over that crush ranked right up there with the fear of his Godfather getting caught. Good to know where Harry's priorities were at least.

It took Sirius quite some time to settle back down, rubbing happily at his chest and ignoring the exasperated looks of the others at such an overreaction. "Thanks pup, I needed that."

"You are not welcome," Harry grumbled back.

He put his roots into his potion and began stirring, his mind on Moody's idea to start drinking out of his own hip flask for a while.

"While I wouldn't blame you if you did," Remus shook his head with amusement, "I more recommend just asking the house-elves to special make you meals. Gives you a much less paranoid vibe."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry did manage a smile for him.

A knock on the door stopped either from saying anything else as Snape called for entrance in a more normal voice.

"So, dark and creepy," James nodded along.

Karkaroff came in.

"Well, well," Sirius raised a brow. "Evil plotting in front of the kiddies now? Poor form on their part."

"I will strangle you," Lily promised, still unable to grasp how he could make light of Death Eaters around Harry.

"What?" Sirius defend himself at once. "They're not actually going to do anything to Harry in that classroom, but Harry might pick up on something else they could be up to."

Remus wanted to remind him they most likely had already done something to Harry, they were their number one suspects on who'd entered Harry into this tournament, but he wasn't going to argue with Sirius now and begged Lily not to bother while James ignored them all.

Everyone watched as he came up to Snape's desk, clearly trying to be as quiet as possible as he whispered they needed to talk.

"Then he should have done this after the fact," James rolled his eyes, "in Snape's oh so important office."

"Be happy intelligence is failing them," Sirius waved him off.

Harry still pretended he wasn't listening as he kept at his ingredients, but still clearly heard Snape's hissing response to deal with this after class.

Karkaroff refused, saying he was tired of Snape slipping away and avoiding him.

"I would too," Remus quipped, but was watching the book curiously now, all of them wondering what they could be squabbling about.

Snape repeated they would talk after the lesson.

While Harry raised his measuring cup full of armadillo bile up to the light to check the correct measurement,

"Subtleness you were excelling at I'm sure," Remus smirked.

"You ever wonder how they get some of these ingredients?" Sirius muttered to Harry.

"Detention from Snape I'm sure," Harry said back, thinking it would be just that kind of punishment for Snape to make armadillos appear just to have them vomiting their bile for the students to collect.

Harry peaked at the pair. Karkaroff looked worried, Snape angry.

Karkaroff stayed hovering over Snape's desk for the rest of class, and determined to know what they were talking about, Harry knocked over the rest of his armadillo bile with a minute to go before class let out and quickly bent down to mop it up while the rest of the class fled the room.

"That was brilliant," James praised.

"Absolute credit for sneakiness with an excuse," Sirius agreed.

Snape demanded what Karkaroff thought was so urgent? Karkaroff declared this!

Harry peeked around his cauldron to see Karkaroff had pulled up his left sleeve to show Snape something Harry couldn't see.

Remus cocked his head to the side with a calculating look in place. "Wasn't that the same arm Snape grabbed when Moody made a crack at him about marks?"

"You think him and Karkaroff got matching tattoos?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"I think it's strange something's clearly bothering both of these Death Eater's," Lily agreed mildly even if she did think the arm thing was a slim attachment.

Of course, they all knew something was stirring, Voldemort was trying to make a return and even if Harry hadn't been having any more dreams about it, and thank Merlin for that and it not happening any time soon, it was still the most unsettling thing to happen thus far. Could these two be talking about that? It really was hard to come up with anything else this could be about, but what would something on their arms be about?

Karkaroff insisted it was clearer than ever, it hadn't been like this since-

Snape snapped at him to put that away, turning a nastier face on Harry and demanding to know what he was still doing in here?

Harry showed his sodden rag he was cleaning with,

"I'm so sure he appreciates your cleanliness," James scowled, his mind still flagging in frustration he couldn't put this together. This could be something really important, and they were all clearly missing something.

but Snape snapped at him to get lost. Harry quickly vacated the room to tell Ron and Hermione what he'd seen.

"Which was what exactly?" Lily groaned in frustration.

Next day they left for Hogsmeade, the weather finally slowing enough that it was actually a beautiful day.

This wasn't making anyone's mood feel any better. Despite the Snape distraction, no one could get over how worrisome it felt to have Sirius back in the picture like this. Danger kept screaming at every corner of their mind, and yet at the same time none of them would selfishly admit it would be good just to hear about him again not on the run or as a convict. Just Padfoot trying to spend some time with Harry for a day.

The food Sirius had asked for was tucked in Harry's bag, a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a jug of pumpkin juice.

Sirius still fidgeted uneasily a bit at such an odd request from himself, he wasn't liking where this was headed right off the bat.

First they headed for a shop to get Dobby those promised socks, enjoying themselves by picking out the most outlandish ones they could find, including ones that screamed at you if you didn't wash them regularly enough.

"Not a bad start," James nodded along, "but you've got about three hundred more pairs to go to get to that every day of the year promise."

"I decided I'd build up to it," Harry grinned, "I need to get him future gifts after all, no sense in doing it all at once." He finished with an almost vacant look at the end, his innards squirming a warning he'd better get Dobby those socks while he had a chance.

"That's cheating," Sirius wagged his finger at the half finished return to keep Harry's attention, but agreed with a smile, "I'm so proud."

As the time came, they made their way to the stile. Harry had never been this far into Hogsmeade before,

All three boys made choking noises of disbelief at that declaration, it still blew their mind Harry didn't know the grounds of that place like they did.

and the place looked far more deserted with a long winding road and being right at the base of a mountain.

A small gate closed off the borders of the village, and leaning on said gate with large paws and a shaggy coat was a familiar dog.

Harry happily greeted Sirius.

Lily was shaking her head fondly, like she'd still been futilely hoping this whole time Sirius wouldn't be stupid enough to come, and even more pleased he had.

Harry couldn't help but compare that lean, wild looking animal to the happy pooch he'd seen in this living room days ago, trying to comfort him in his fear of what would happen to Sirius. The contrast between the same dog was as vivid as the cocky, self-assured Godfather sitting at his side, ready to joke his way to the end, and the gaunt faced criminal Harry only had memory of seeing smile once.

The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged his tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain.

"Wait a minute," Remus said slowly, "you're not really..." he trailed off in disbelief as he kept watching Sirius.

"Don't know how regularly," Sirius shrugged, "but I'm even more pleased if so. It'll be much more fun to talk to Harry rather than just following him around."

"I don't understand," Lily was frowning, looking from Sirius to his two friends suspiciously.

"That mountain's got all sorts of caves and hiding spots," James told her and Harry. "We explored them all the time, even kept a stash of stuff up there when we didn't want to get caught with it. When we found Sirius wasn't staying in the Shack, I honestly thought this was where he was spending his time last year."

Lily gnawed on her lip a bit, but decided this was actually fairly out of the way of the school, and if the Marauders said they'd explored this place than that meant they knew it better than the surrounding villagers. Plus, if Dumbledore even knew Sirius was staying there, and warned people to stay away from the area, well this was honestly looking like almost a good idea. Then she realized what she was thinking, and chose not to say anything aloud, still not wanting to give that idiot the impression she approved of him being in the country at all.

The three followed him up the steep path, having to climb over boulders and struggling to keep up with the more assured four legged one, as they sweated under the sun and the straps of Harry's bag cut into his shoulders.

"If I'd known there'd be a hike, I'd have left the jug behind," Harry winced and rubbed at his shoulders in remembrance.

"I honestly forget what it's like to try on two legs," Sirius answered honestly, and with a bit of pity. "We didn't really go all through these places until we changed."

Finally the dog vanished into a crevice, and the three wiggled inside to see a spacious cave with Buckbeak tied to a corner.

"So you did actually keep him," Remus chuckled. "I never again want to hear you mock me for bringing home strays."

"Not happening Moony," Sirius shot back at once. "This beast saved my life, the least I can do is keep him around. You dragging in all manner of destruction into our flat with your creature of the month have yet to do the same."

Remus opened his mouth, to argue the point or give another sarcastic response James didn't want to listen to for once, he was too anxious to hear how Sirius was doing in person. That food comment was still lingering badly at the edge of his mind.

All three bowed to the hippogriff, who obliged back, and while Hermione rushed forward to pat him in greeting, Harry turned eyes on his godfather. Sirius was wearing the same ragged garb he'd had on the night he escaped Azkaban,

They all winced, that wasn't a great start, though no real surprise as it probably would have been a chore at best to steal anything better. Most likely if he wasn't on Buckbeak he was Padfoot, so it wasn't even the largest of deals in the grand scheme, but even something as little as this struck deep.

his hair was a long tangle mess again, and he looked extremely thin.

Lily made a noise she knew she wouldn't deny even if she'd been called out on. All her blustering and scolding aside, she was as distraught as the boys at the idea of what Sirius had really been living through.

James and Remus looked like they'd swallowed a lemon at the idea, not even being subtle as they kept a steady eye on their Sirius, here and now looking grumpy but still his usual self. He didn't even seem to realize he kept running his hand through his hair, as if to keep himself in check this wasn't some nasty new form of a mirror being put on him.

He was sitting on the ground, spitting a few newspapers out of his mouth he'd been carrying this whole time, and turned to Harry asking about the chicken he smelled.

'Missed you to Sirius,' Harry thought to himself, not looking to meet anyone's eyes. He still felt responsible for Sirius being in these conditions, and the fact that his Godfathers first request had been for food rather than an actual greeting spoke every level of how horrible it had been.

Harry handed over the bag, and Sirius began digging in at once, while thanking for the food, admitting he'd actually been living on rats.

James hardly got that out before revulsion hit and his throat retched.

"There's some kind of irony in that I'm sure," Sirius said with pure viciousness in his voice as he took in all the disgusted faces around him.

"Sirius-" Remus began weakly, but Sirius cut him off snappishly.

"What? You lot going to sit around and tell me how sorry you are for me? Like that's going to help? Let it go will you, it's my decision."

While true, this didn't make what they were hearing any better, so still fighting down the impulse to run to the kitchen and get Sirius a snack while he had to listen to this, James forced himself to keep going.

He admitted he couldn't be stealing too much food from Hogsmeade, he didn't want to draw attention to himself.

Lily kept a watchful eye on him, waiting for him to start up his bragging that of course he was smart enough to think ahead like this, clearly waiting for someone to mock him to the contrary, but when no one did he instead intensified his glare at all of them so that he actually looked pretty scary. It was clear he was growing sick of their trying to baby him, but none of them were going to be able to shake it off any time soon.

He gave Harry a grin, who only reluctantly returned it.

Harry demanded why Sirius was even here, and Sirius said back he was doing his job as godfather, while gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way.

"Least some things don't change," James shook his head fondly, Sirius had done that long before he'd been an animagus, though he'd admitted he'd donned the habit more in protest of his mother's precious table manners than anything.

Sirius looked pleased enough at the comment, at least his best friend wasn't all doom and gloom.

Sirius told Harry not to worry about it, everyone around here found him a lovable stray. He kept grinning, but when the anxiety didn't leave Harry's face, he kept going seriously

Sirius released a bark of triumphant laughter, clearly never growing tired of when Harry did this the most, before turning to his pup and stating, "no need for the clarification, I say everything Seriously."

"You're right Prongs," Remus groaned, "but sometimes I wish that joke would change."

"Not happening," Sirius stated proudly.

that Harry's last letter had left him uneasy. The papers weren't helping anything, clearly something was getting fishy around here.

He nodded at the yellowing newspapers, which Ron went to investigate.

Harry kept watching Sirius, asking what would happen if someone spotted him.

Sirius waved that off, saying the three of them and Dumbledore were the only ones who knew he was here and that he was an Animagus, still tearing off large pieces of chicken between every word.

Ron got Harry's attention by showing him the headlines, one of which covered the mystery of Crouch's disease,

"One of the symptoms being night time wanderings," Sirius rolled his eyes, still finding this much more fun to think about than himself.

and the other still over the missing Ministry Employee, and that the Minister himself was now looking into it.

"I'm honestly impressed," Lily arched a brow. "Why's she getting so much attention? People have gone missing before."

"Most likely, after ah, this time," Remus wasn't quite sure how to phrase that and since they got the gist he quickly moved past, "I'm sure if it did happen, at least someone could offer up some sort of explanation. As far as we know, she's gone without a single trace. That is media worthy."

"I'd almost rather not have the answer to this one," Sirius shivered for the poor thing.

Harry read the Crouch one first, looking up when he was done about how they made it seem like he was dying.

Ron told Sirius about how Percy was Crouch's underlying, and he just wrote it all off as being overworked.

Harry disagreed, saying how bad he'd looked that night of the Goblet.

Hermione just said it was his own comeuppance for how he'd treated Winky.

"I'm thinking this might be a bit more than that," James shook his head fondly

"Hermione'll just take any excuse to change the subject to house-elves," Sirius snorted.

Saying how she was sure he was regretting his harsh actions now.

Ron informed Sirius about Hermione's house-elf obsession, but rather than exasperated like Ron, Sirius looked intrigued as he asked about Crouch sacking his elf.

"That would be news to me," Sirius agreed, he still found the instance odd, and he'd already heard about it.

Harry recounted the whole Dark Mark event for him.

Sirius pulled yet more chicken out as he made sure he got the whole thing cleared up, clearly being the most interested in Crouch not even appearing at the event of the Cup.

Harry agreed he'd stated he was too busy to come at the time.

Sirius got to his feet as he sucked on the marrow, muttering to himself for a moment before asking Harry if he'd checked his pockets for his wand before he'd left the Top Box?

"Why would you ask?" Remus asked slowly.

"Not really sure," Sirius was frowning at nothing as he tried to guess at his own train of thought...no matter how odd that was.

Harry thought back and admitted he hadn't checked until he'd needed it later, then asking of Sirius if he really thought the caster of the Mark had been in the Top Box?

"Even Sirius wouldn't make such a suicidal leap," Lily dissed the idea.

"If the Malfoy's hadn't been confirmed in with the other Death Eaters, I might argue the point," Remus said fairly.

"But there's no one else up there who could have done it," James agreed.

"Unless Winky stole it for someone," Sirius offered, his brow still ruffled as he tried to put it together.

James scoffed at the idea, saying, "Unless Crouch told her to, I don't buy that. She was clearly all loyal to him, that sounds like a Dobby stunt."

Sirius ran out of ideas, it really didn't make much sense, but something had happened in between it being in Harry's possession and it casting the Mark, they just had not a single clue of what. Harry wasn't helping anyone, arms crossed in a huffy manner as he was well aware the answer was somewhere in Sirius' line of thinking.

Sirius agreed there was a good chance, and Hermione at once snapped it hadn't been Winky!

Sirius agreed she hadn't been the only one up there, asking for a list of everyone.

When Harry recounted the Malfoy's name, Ron suddenly got the idea that it could have been Lucius all along.

Sirius didn't seem to think so, as he asked for anyone else present.

"Well you clearly don't think much of the idea," Remus pointed out.

"Which is a bit off from you," Lily shook her head.

"If Harry explained the whole thing, including Draco telling of his parents being in the Death Eater crowd," Sirius shrugged them off.

"They still seem the most likely," James sighed, then his eyes brightened with understanding, but not pleasure as he offered, "what if it was a handoff. Who wants to put money Karkaroff could have been at that game, supporting his number one student."

They all swallowed that for a moment, but Harry shook his head first, saying very slowly so as not to agitate himself, "I don't think, I mean, I like to think I'd have recognized the voice, and I still haven't heard it since that night."

It was thin, someone shouting a curse could still manage to sound different enough from just casual speaking, but if Harry was disagreeing with an idea, it was best not to argue the point.

When Harry finished, Hermione also pointed out Bagman in the end.

Sirius kept up his pacing and stated all he knew of him was that he was an old Beater.

The four of them felt themselves sink just that little bit lower, again. First the dragons, now this, had Azkaban taken everything away from Sirius? Something of his old Quidditch love and idol of a player should have sparked a life in him at the mention of that name, not just that.

Sirius asked if they'd had any more contact with him, and Harry admitted Bagman had been trying to help Harry out with the Tournament, said he'd taken a liking to Harry.

Hermione pointed out they'd seen him just before the Mark was cast and he disapparated, but Ron said it was ludicrous to think Bagman had done this.

"I can't really buy that," Lily shook her head. "He's been a bit of an idiot, one too many bludgers honestly, but I don't think he's Death Eater material."

Something buzzed in the back of Harry's skull, and for some odd reason his mind flickered to Skeeter, and something she'd said about Bagman...

Hermione stubbornly said back she thought Bagman was still more likely than Winky.

"That I'll give her," James snorted.

Ron looking imploringly at Sirius as he repeated Hermione's obsession with elves.

Sirius though waved Ron silent.

"I'm impressed he listened," Remus couldn't help a little smirk at Sirius. "Looks like you've gotten marginally more menacing to stop someone."

"Wish it would work on you," Sirius grumbled at him.

Sirius instead turned back to Harry and asked what Crouch had done after his elf had been discovered under it.

Harry told how he'd gone through the bushes looking for someone else, and found no one.

Harry still felt like someone had snapped a rubber band on his nose, something in there was a lie, but all he got for it was rubbing in agitation at his temple and ignoring the moment.

Sirius agreed that was in line, Crouch would want to pin this on anyone else but his elf.

Hermione instantly agreed, saying he'd been wrong to sack his elf just for running from that stampeding crowd.

Ron snapped at her to give those elves a rest!

"I can see Ron's point," James said around twitching lips, "I'm sure he's heard this a million times by now, and Sirius has much more important things to be asking than house-elves."

Sirius seemed to be on Hermione's side though, telling Ron that she had a better idea of how Crouch was than Ron. If you wanted to know what a man was like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

Lily couldn't stop a violent, and rather vindictive, snort as she looked disbelievingly at him for that one. "You did not just say that with a straight face? After the way you've gone on about elves, I thought you'd be cheering Ron on."

Sirius had a little sneer in place for her benefit as he corrected, "I hate my elf, with good reason. That doesn't mean I'm not going to think less of someone doing the same to theirs if it hasn't done anything wrong. That's sound advice woman, you should be thanking me for bestowing that on your son."

Lily raked her hand through her hair instead of slapping Sirius for the pompous attitude, she found him being a hypocrite more in that moment than wise like he clearly thought himself, but truth be told he wasn't wrong either. Sirius had every right to hate his house-elf in particular at least, but from what she'd gathered he'd clearly treated the ones at Hogwarts with at least as much respect as the rest of the staff, if not more for the free food, which was saying something.

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

Sirius waited impatiently for a sarcastic comment from anybody asking how hard that was, a witty retort already in place, and was all the more frustrated when it didn't come. Couldn't these guys chill for just one second? They had no problems taking the mickey out of him in here, but clearly none of them were going to be mocking his future self...which still hurt his brain to think about so he let it go.

He was still stuck on the idea of Crouch, saying all of these absences of his from events he'd had such a huge hand in putting together wasn't like him at all. If he'd ever missed a day of work because he was sick, Sirius would eat Buckbeak.

"Best way you could have put that, past the lovely sentiment," Lily crinkled her nose at him.

Harry was surprised that Sirius seemed to know Crouch personally.

Sirius' face darkened so much, that between the menacing scowl and the dark lighting, he looked truly like the murderer Harry had once believed him to be.

Five faces lost every last drop of color at that sentiment, one question on all of their lips, what had Crouch done to Sirius?

He whispered for their benefit that he only knew Crouch as the man who'd put him in Azkaban without a trial.

Sirius' mouth flopped open in shock, mingled disbelief and hatred suddenly burning away any trace of his joking bravado nature. It was now all too clear to Harry that was indeed an expression of one who could actually go and kill someone, and Sirius had just been given a motive.

"He what?" Lily hissed, the fire blazing in her green eyes matched only by her hair. "They couldn't really, there's no way they-"

"I'm going to kill him," James vowed on the spot. He didn't remember getting to his feet, but he was suddenly pacing all around the room, his wand tapping furiously on his hip and clearly hoping to use it on the first available target. He spat in the fireplace as he passed it but that relieved nothing, he could not get this out of his head!

Remus' lower lip was trembling, it was unclear whether he was fixing to cry or scream. Mostly he just looked diminished. He couldn't help his mind scattering to the first person that he would have called to for help with this, but Dumbledore had actually allowed this to happen! He was Supreme Mugwump, Crouch may have held off the trial but he would have had to pass it by Dumbledore to be skipped, which had never been passed in their history! Even someone brought in as a confirmed and known Death Eater was granted a trial, but Sirius hadn't even been given that! What the bloody hell was the matter with this! It only marginally explained their earlier plights and complaints that Sirius shouldn't have been sent there at all, one moment in front of an actual person should have proven Sirius' innocence, now they all realized he' never even been allowed that chance!

While Harry knew he was just as angry as the rest of them, he tried to keep some perspective. While outraged on behalf of Sirius for this slight, Harry just knew there was something important about this conversation, something Sirius was going to tell him that would make all the difference to this year. He really didn't want to be the one to call attention to himself, any of them were likely to spring into deadly action at a moment's notice now, but it spoke volumes of Harry's time here when he cleared his throat and hardly winced at all eyes falling on him. "I am begging you guys to remember this hasn't technically happened yet," he gestured vaguely to his still fuming godfather. "Crouch'll never get the chance to do this to him," he promised with much more conviction than he felt.

No one looked appeased enough to move past this, James was still pacing manically around the room and looked as likely to kiss Snape as pretend this wasn't going to weigh on him whether it had technically happened yet or not. Sirius should never have been in Azkaban to begin with, that thought had never once left his mind since he'd heard about this, and yet somehow the level of bad got worse at this news. He didn't know how to go back to simply reading a book after this kind of news, he was entirely certain he couldn't get the words out anyways through his red vision.

The book had been left in James's vacant seat, and Harry uneasily reached for it like it was the Monster Book of Monsters, ready to bite his hand the moment he touched the cover. No one made to stop him, though a few throats vibrated a warning growl that promised screaming would resume at a moment's notice. Harry's fingers fumbled across several pages, possibly earning a few paper cuts as he found his place, but that Gryffindor bravery, or thickness he was sure Ron would say, shone through as he forced himself to go on in this atmosphere.

The three of them gasped in surprise, while Harry demanded to know if he was kidding, but Sirius simply said he wasn't while taking another bite of food.

Harry paused hopefully, though in vain. He'd been hoping at least Sirius, who'd laughed off plenty of terrible things before, would at least make a crack he could discuss anything over food, but clearly it was not to be forthcoming.

Crouch had been head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time.

"He won't be holding that position long when I get a hold of him," Lily snarled. She'd put up with his horrid ways for long enough because he'd been using them against Death Eaters, proven Death Eaters! This was, unprecedented!

He'd even been tipped for the next Minister of Magic. Crouch was a powerful wizard,

"Bet you nearly bit your tongue off getting that out," Remus sighed, his voice still coming out so quiet no one was really sure what he'd said and didn't ask for a repeat.

and power hungry. He caught the look on Harry's face and quickly corrected he was no Voldemort supporter, Crouch was the opposite. Then again, a lot of people against the Dark, but he trailed himself off saying they were too young to understand.

"Hurtful," Harry yelped at once.

Sirius gave him an even look, but finally that face was starting to wobble. It was clear he could have held it for hours yet if left to stew, but he'd never want Harry to really see him like this, so even if it didn't really work he tried to force something resembling his more normal self as he said, "well, hopefully I get over the delusion that you're fourteen. Obviously you're much older and I just need my eyes checked."

While it was clear he was going for a joke and apology all at the same time, Harry still grumbled mutinously for a bit, wondering if Sirius would reach the same conclusion in his own time.

Ron said in protest that's what his dad had told him, why wouldn't Sirius give them a try?

A grin flashed across Sirius' thin face.

"That's why you need to keep Ron around, it's good to know he can still get to me." Sirius sighed, losing the fight to keep himself tensed for a fight and instead slumping back in his seat, now just looking defeated. It was almost as bad as his anger, like he'd accepted this was his fate to come and he may as well enjoy himself in the meantime.

Everyone else refused to believe that, whatever self-punishment Sirius clearly still felt towards himself had not gone away no matter the farce he put up, but around a dry throat all James could do was what he'd always fall back on. Pick on his best friend. "Oh, now you agree with me, after the fact. Typical of you."

Sirius listlessly stuck his tongue out at him, the gesture more pouting than admitting a point like normal.

He agreed he'd give them a try, pacing back and forth a few more times before beginning.

Remus couldn't stop just the smallest of smiles gracing his features. James and Sirius were so alike sometimes, about things they didn't even realize. Only one instance being that they both tended to pace when they were upset or thinking hard, like the motion helped generate better ideas for them.

He began by recounting how it had felt to the rest of the world for Voldemort to be all powerful, no one to trust and no one to turn to. People did terrible things and no one could stop them.

"Don't have to think too hard to imagine that," Sirius muttered at Harry's side, going slightly cross eyed at himself saying this in past tense. It probably still felt like days ago to an after Azkaban Sirius, where time didn't mean much in that prison except endless torture.

You were scared for yourself, your family, everyone you cared about. Every time you turned around there was more news of death, disappearances, and even torture. The Ministry was not keeping a handle on anything, and Muggles were dying left and right.

There was nothing but panic in everyone.

"You do a lovely painting, I thought James was the artist," Remus quipped at Sirius loudly enough to be heard this time.

Sirius gave him a pleased enough smile, he'd heard that hint of longing in Remus' voice for this to be a past rather than present. James didn't find it nearly as funny, giving him a light swat on his next pass through, but at least he'd tucked his wand away.

Times like that brought out the best in some, and the worst in others.

"Clearly some people shouldn't be in this at all," Lily said flatly.

Crouch had been a rising star from the beginning, a voice for the Ministry that they weren't going to let this stand. He dealt out the harshest punishments on anyone slightly associated with Voldemort, granted powers to Aurors for people to be killed rather than captured. Sirius hadn't been the only one to get sent away without a trial.

Harry couldn't get that out without stuttering a bit, knowing it was foolish to fear for his life from them but it still wasn't passing easily through their ears without inciting more violent outbursts; made all the worse at the realization Sirius wasn't the only one treated like this. Yet more innocent people had likely died in this place because of Crouch!

Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects.

Lily blanched in horror. Talk of that was being passed along now, clearly it had gone through. She had been talking to her boys about this just last week, it was the root of all their snide comments about Crouch following whatever rules he saw fit.

Crouch became as ruthless as those he was fighting. Most seemed to agree with his methods and were begging him to take the top spot. When Voldemort vanished, it seemed obvious Crouch would get just that.

Remus opened his mouth to ask how on earth Sirius would know a thing like that, he'd been in prison by the time that came about, but not only did no one here know the answer, it would only be a sharp reminder in an already ugly room.

Then it all changed when Crouch's own son was brought in with a group of Death Eaters.

Harry got a zing tracing from the peak of his scar, marking all the way down to his toes. That was it, that was the bit of crucial information he was so sure he learned from Sirius. What on earth significant could that hold?

"Crouch has a son?" James asked in surprise, his steps finally faltering as his murderous thoughts were derailed and he was successfully pulled fully back into the story.

"I've never heard that," Lily said in shock. "I mean, sure I don't know the family members of everyone in my department, but I usually at least know who does and doesn't have kids. He's never mentioned it."

"Didn't you hear the rest of that?" Remus asked with disgust. "I can understand why if he's been hanging around Death Eaters, I wouldn't go parading that around in that sort of job."

Maybe before they'd have felt bad for Crouch, none of them could imagine what it would feel like for Harry to turn to Voldemort's side, but now that they knew what Crouch would indubitably do, all they felt was more hatred for the guy. He was clearly making examples out of others to show distance from his child, most likely why he'd never even mentioned him. That fallout had landed on Sirius for one.

Hermione was shocked to hear Crouch has a son?

Sirius agreed, while throwing himself back into the dirt. He tossed all his leftover bones to Buckbeak, while he continued saying it had come as a nasty shock for Crouch's own family to be pushed into the spotlight like that. It was probably his own fault, he should have gone home early for once and spent time with his own kid.

He then found the loaf of bread and began wolfing that down.

"I don't think I eat like Moony?" Sirius told Harry innocently, now receiving a slap from James as he passed him next. Sirius didn't regret it, as the lame joke finally ceased his best friend's incessant tread and he slammed back down on Harry's other side mutinously.

"Oh give that back," he grumbled, offering his hand out while Harry watched him uneasily. "I might need it to crack his head open next."

Harry gave it back, a little too willingly in Sirius' heads opinion, and James forced himself to continue reading. He still wasn't happy about it, but wearing out the carpet wasn't helping him, at least this way he could read past Sirius' insistent jokes rather than letting Harry laugh at them like he was prone to do.

Harry asked if his son really was a Death Eater?

For some reason Harry wanted to laugh at the question from himself, something in him clamoring to say that was obvious, of course he was, but the feeling subsided instantly and Harry was instead left listening to the blistering tones of James forcing himself to read about Crouch's personal life rather than him being burned alive.

Sirius said he had no clue if he'd really been, while stuffing himself with bread.

"You're going to make yourself sick," Lily couldn't help but scold maternally. "You've gone from hardly eating a thing to a lot of greasy and heavy foods. What good's that going to do you?"

"Yes mum," Sirius rolled his eyes at her, trying to hide his flashing smile.

He was in Azkaban when the guy was brought in,

James could not ever get that out without some interesting colorful tones threatening violence and death for that having to be a thing.

this was all stuff he'd found out after he'd escaped.

Remus still wanted to ask where that could have been from, even vaguely hoping it could have been from himself though unlikely as he didn't particularly keep up with politics, but then again Remus like to think he'd have at least kept an eye on Crouch; the man who did this to Sirius. Was that giving himself too much credit, since he clearly hadn't cared a lick for Sirius during this time? Great, now he was depressing himself as much as he was over Sirius.

The boy was certainly caught in the company Sirius would bet his life were Death Eaters, but it could have been wrong place, wrong time like the elf.

"Surprised you used a house-elf over yourself in that instance," Lily whispered softly.

Sirius watched her steadily for a moment, his expression hard to read as he told, "I got caught because I didn't run Lily, that's hardly wrong time and place."

His face spasmed, showing the deep regret and hate he had for himself, letting himself get caught, this stupid situation still falling on him though that rat had set everything in motion. He controlled himself quick enough, that cocky mask back in place as he added on to egg her on, "thought that would have given me some brownie points from you? I just compared myself to a lowly house-elf."

She shook her head fondly at him, she wasn't going to rise to Sirius' bait.

Hermione asked how hard Crouch had tried to get his son off?

Sirius let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Always a warning of trouble," Remus muttered.

Sirius grinned and gave Harry a wink, he'd never thought to describe his type of laugh like that, but he loved Harry putting it like that for him.

Telling her he'd thought she realized better.

"I would have thought he'd think more of his child than his elf," Lily squeaked. She hadn't gained back any of her normal color tone, the fresh news of Sirius' incarceration still heavy on everyone, but still she somehow managed to look all the worse at this news.

"I'm not even going to pretend to be surprised," James muttered lowly, he now knew he'd never put anything past Crouch after what he'd just had further evidence of.

Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial,

"Oh well hallelujah he gives someone one!" Remus snapped instantly, his spine threatening to crack in half he jerked so hard at that statement.

and the whole show had been so everyone could see how much he hated the boy before he was given to the dementors.

Sirius read the shock on Harry's face and nodded along, not looking remotely amused as he told how they'd brought him right past his own bars.

James made a sound like a kicked puppy, the image swimming before his eyes of Sirius' wasted face having to look through bars and watch all of this, hearing the screams of this guy shouting all this. He shook himself so hard to shake that off he nearly tossed his glasses across the room and forced himself to keep going, anything to focus on rather than that.

He'd couldn't have been more than nineteen, screaming for his mother to help him, but he'd gone quiet by nightfall, most of them did. Except the ones who continued even in their sleep.

Sirius couldn't pretend anymore. He'd been trying to force this off since he'd found out what Crouch had done to him, but everything in him was crumbling at the dead way James was reading that. He started shaking so violently the couch trembled with him, his fingers digging into the cushion to anchor him to this life right here, and they'd have to wrench it away from his limp fingers before he wound up like that.

Harry didn't even think about it this time as he wormed up to Sirius, pulling him into a hug for protection, but words failed him. He still held a deep sense of regret whenever he thought too hard about comforting Sirius, something in Harry telling him his godfather was doomed which wasn't a pleasant thing at all to be considering in light of this.

Lily reacted much better, scrambling to her feet and perching on the arm of the sofa, running her nails gently through his hair and promising, "It's alright Padfoot, that's not happening."

The oddity of Lily calling him that managed to win out, his movements going from violent shaking, to jerking, and finally stilling. He remained hunched in on himself, hardly speaking loud enough, "I don't want to end up like that."

"You won't," Remus croaked, even that had been hard to force out past his tight chest, but it was worth it when Sirius glanced up at him. His dark gray eyes were at war, he wanted to believe him but the image had trapped him better than any Devil's Snare.

Remus sighed, he knew he would regret what he was fixing to do, but at this point he'd suffer for it just to take that look off of his friends face. He gave James a steady look as he sated, "I'm serious."

James reacted almost instantly, some things really never died as he remarked, "Nope, he is," giving Sirius a winning smile.

Sirius blinked spastically at the pair of them before tackling both of them with a hug, then laughing his arse of as he declared, "you haven't done that since first year!" It was mostly for show, but Sirius would rather pet a dragon than let his friends get away with doing this.

"That joke wore off after Christmas, you were the only one who wouldn't let it go after the fact," Remus reminded.

Still not completely able to hide swimming eyes, Sirius forced himself back to his seat and caught Lily before she could sneak away. "Thanks sis," without a hint of mocking.

She met his eyes steadily, while flicking his nose like scolding a dog and saying, "you're welcome love."

Sirius rubbed absently at his nose, but knew he'd take that over the wallop he knew she owed him.

James watched Sirius steadily for a few moments longer, but he considered it mission accomplished when his best friend turned back to him expectantly, waving his hand theatrically for James to continue. James knew a farce when he saw one, Sirius was still on the verge of a real panic attack again at his life heading towards that prison, but James would be remiss if he just sat here and let Sirius wallow in that instead of finding something else to do.

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius' eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

No one in here needed to picture that, they'd just gotten the live version, and hoped to never see it again. That fact that he was all alone in there, with no one to really turn that light back on, caused the room to feel as if it had been iced over already with a dementors presence.

Harry asked if he was still in Azkaban, and Sirius corrected he was dead. Died less than a year after he'd been brought in.

At their surprise, Sirius bitterly agreed most who went mad in there, stopped eating soon enough.

Sirius suddenly wasn't Sirius anymore, but instead had poofed into Padfoot for no clear reason other than to bark in Harry's ear, lunge across his lap and lick obstinately at James' ear, and then start running around the room, only pausing to occasionally bite at his tail. The others weren't sure whether to laugh or call for a Mediwizard, whether it would have worked or not, as they wondered if he'd really just snapped, but then he froze, fur bristling at James. James more than anyone was used to figuring out silent language, and the intent was clear, 'get on with it.'

He couldn't believe himself when he actually managed a weak chuckle, but he supposed the logic was sound. Sirius had survived that place as Padfoot for twelve years, he clearly felt he was only going to get through the rest of this mess in the same state.

Most lost the will to live, and you could always tell when a death was coming, it was when the dementors got the most excited.

Remus had never wished to be Moony in his life, but he suddenly envied Sirius. He still understood what they were saying, as he kept his tail high in the air and sniffed at Remus' boots most likely out of sheer something else to do with himself, but it was in a more simplistic nature filtered through those ears. He could still process everything being said and yet not have to face a reaction, something they all were wishing for by this time.

Crouch's boy had looked sick enough being brought in. His father's position being what it was, Crouch and his wife had been allowed a visit to the deathbed. That was the last time Crouch saw his son, half carrying his dead wife past Sirius' own cell.

If Harry hadn't been so distracted watching Padfoot suddenly leap onto his lap, which he was far too big for, Harry knew he would have considered much more carefully the significance of that.

James reached over absently and gave Sirius a mock pat on the head, a silent promise this was all almost over.

Mrs. Crouch had died not long after, grief most likely. Crouch had never come again for his son's body, and the dementors had buried it just outside the prison, Sirius had watched them do it.

James was entirely sure that was bile slicking over his tongue, his hand suddenly trembling in the fur. The distraction of the wet tongue lapping at his fingers, and then Sirius leaping cleanly over the table to start chasing his tail again the only thing that saved another vomiting session appearing. James was sorely tempted by this point to pass the book to Harry and join him as Prongs, on his life he'd never forced himself to read anything as painful as Sirius recounting his time in Azkaban.

Harry had no want to ask about Azkaban when it had been such a horrid topic for Sirius, but the question had lingered in the back of his mind so he figured he could ask now, which seemed fairer than later when he'd have to see Sirius' face again. "If only prisoners and Dementors are in Azkaban, how does that work? How do the prisoners get fed, and like go to the bathroom and stuff?"

"There's bathrooms in the cells, and the food's shipped in," Lily sighed heavily, building up a mental rant in her head she was going to save for Sirius' human ears about him tearing around her carpet with those huge feet that had unclipped claws on the end. If he tore stitches out of her rug, she was going to make him repair that without magic.

Harry did not press for more, knowing he'd pushed his luck for now when James kept going without waiting to see if Harry was done for once.

Sirius didn't bother finishing what was left of his bread, throwing that to Buckbeak as well as he went for the pumpkin juice and draining half of it in one long gulp.

Wiping the rest off his lips, he continued explaining that Crouch had lost all his popularity in that one move. Going from the hero, to the town gossip. People judged him for what had become of his son, thinking if he'd spent more time with him he wouldn't have turned out like that.

"I believe that," Remus said at once, he couldn't wrap his mind around Crouch caring about anything ever again. Not after all this.

So now Fudge had the job, and Crouch was shunted to another department.

Silence beat through the cave after all that. Harry felt he finally understood Crouch's overreaction to finding Winky under the Dark Mark.

"Makes a twisted amount of sense," Lily sighed in agreement.

He'd probably been having flashbacks to a time when his own son had been accused of the same Dark Arts.

Harry told Sirius about how Moody thought Crouch was obsessed with catching Dark wizards.

Sirius nodded along, saying that didn't surprise him. Sirius guessed Crouch was under the delusion if he caught just one more Death Eater, his name would be popular again.

"Let's hope it's a real one, and not just a name," James murmured to himself, keeping an eye on the dog that was finally pretending like he was going to settle, stretching out in front of the fire and closing his eyes, but keeping his ears perked and listening. The message was clear, he'd change back when the chapter was over, he wasn't risking anything else until otherwise.

Ron finished with triumph that was the reason he'd gone into Snape's office.

"Triumphantly?" Remus tore his own protective eyes away from Padfoot to look curiously at James and the book. "What did Ron just latch onto?"

"You're clearly not following along anymore," Lily snorted at him. "Ron's as convinced as we are Snape's a Death Eater, and I can't say I'll be displeased if Crouch does put him away for it," she finished nastily.

"I got that," he waved her off, "but was anyone disagreeing for him to be throwing that around?"

Lily shrugged without response for that.

Sirius shook his head and said that didn't make any sense.

"Apparently Sirius is," Harry noted, looking to his godfather in surprise, who was still pretending he was asleep, clearly not even up to defending himself and still content to let the book do it.

Ron tried to argue back, but Sirius waved him down, pointing out if Crouch wanted to spy on Snape he'd have the perfect opportunity by coming to all these Hogwarts events.

A sharp breath of air was released from the wet slit nostrils, if a dog could be quietly yet smugly triumphant Padfoot was doing it.

"Oh hush you," James sighed without looking up, "if you were thinking it, you should have said it."

Harry asked if Sirius thought Snape was up to anything?

Hermione pointed out Dumbledore clearly trusted Snape,

"And that means nothing to us," Lily said bitterly, her temper flaring at the mention of his name as well as Crouch's.

but Ron cut her off by saying as brilliant as Dumbledore was, it didn't mean a Dark wizard couldn't pull one over on him.

She shot back why had Snape saved Harry's life in first year then?

"Things change," James snapped sourly, "Voldemort hadn't been on the verge of a comeback then. Clearly his priorities went from hating me yet still heeding being a teacher, to appeasing Riddle."

One sharp bark of a laughter came from Padfoot, his tail wagging from side to side a bit at that.

"I remember agreeing to call him that," Remus smirked at James as well. "I'm glad you didn't let us forget."

Harry cut off their argument by asking Sirius' opinion, which shut the other two up.

Lily pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smile, she wasn't going to let Sirius see how amusing she found it Sirius had managed to stop those kids picking at each other, when Sirius was the source of nearly every fight going on in here.

Sirius admitted they both had a good point. He'd been blasted to find out Snape was working at Hogwarts, he'd always been fascinated by the Dark Arts even as a slimy little kid.

"He just hit the tip of the iceberg," Remus shook his head fondly. "I've heard worse things from him on his good days about Snape." Clearly Sirius was still as lost in his own thoughts in that time to have used such mild insults.

Snape had known more curses coming into that school than some seventh years, and his gang of Slytherin friends had all turned into Death Eaters.

Lily bit at the inside of her cheek, pain welling up inside her chest as she fought to try and say otherwise. Even though she knew the truth, it still hurt that had ended up being so true.

He began ticking off those old names, Rosier and Wilkes who were killed by Aurors after Voldemort fell,

"Wicked," the three Order members suddenly perked up at that information, any failed Death Eaters was good news for them, especially in light of the fact they'd yet to come across a single member of their own group who'd survived past Voldemort's downfall as well.

the Lestranges who were a married couple in Azkaban,

Sirius made a 'humph' noise from his spot on the hearth, and Harry didn't need a translator to realize Sirius was adamantly saying they more than deserved it.

Avery, who'd talked himself out of a cell by saying he'd been under the Imperius curse.

"Something else that will be fixed," Lily's eyes flashed in outrage at hearing of this happening, again.

Yet Snape had never even been accused. This didn't mean much, plenty of them were never even suspected, and Snape was clever enough to keep himself out.

"That's got to be the nicest thing he's ever said about him," James shook his head in disgust.

"We never underestimated him," Remus reminded, "you were the one who near constantly reminded us to keep our checks up for him, he was the quickest to grow wise to when we were up to something. That falls under clever, to keep up with us."

"You boys fascinate me, with the amount of arrogance you hold. How the castle held your fat heads I'll never know," Lily pleasantly informed them while James smirked and Sirius' shoulders shook in silent laughter.

Ron pointed out how Snape and Karkaroff knew each other, but were trying to keep that quiet.

Harry told Sirius what he'd seen yesterday, about how they were upset about something on Karkaroff's arm.

Sirius seemed bewildered about the arm comment,

"Darn," James sighed, "Sirius has actually been a wealth of information so far," most of it something none of them would ever want to hear again, they all mentally agreed, "yet you couldn't answer that one."

It wasn't physically possible for a dog to actually 'stick' its tongue out at anyone, but the pink muscle lolling out of the side of his mouth was point enough.

but said that if Karkaroff was running to Snape for answers, that couldn't be good. He lapsed into a frustrated silence for a moment before continuing that if Dumbledore trusted Snape, than they had to trust Dumbledore for now. Sirius just couldn't see Dumbledore hiring anyone who once worked for Voldemort.

That spiked some different feelings in everyone. Remus threw Sirius a grateful look, unbelievably happy that at least someone other than him was at least still trying to hold out hope Dumbledore wasn't completely this thing putting them through hell.

James and Lily weren't entirely sure they agreed with that assessment, they were absolutely convinced Snape had been a Death Eater at some point, and for Dumbledore not to know was not possible. Yet the headmaster must have some profound reasoning then for keeping Snape an employee. What those reasons were though, they still weren't getting an answer.

Sirius shifted his weight around, his dark gray eyes reflecting back the firelight and causing some dancing shadows to pattern back on the walls in a rather eerie fashion. Harry's mind flashed back to when he'd feared this sight, and knew this would have at one point caused him heart failure to see the Grim so casually watching this room. Now Harry instead forced his mind to get away from that question he was sure he had an answer to, and instead wondered what it must feel like for a tongue to be scraping so harshly over canines and if that hurt while his large body panted next to the heat.

Ron insisted there must be a reason Crouch and Moody were going through Snape's office.

"Got to give him credit," James shook his head fondly, "I give anyone points who fights back with Sirius."

"You're giving yourself too much credit," Lily snipped back, "he's hardly the mastermind you seem to think."

Sirius made a yip noise of protest, but Lily just glared back at him. The message was clear, she wasn't taking it back unless he changed back.

He stood up, spun in a circle, and plopped back down with his back to them instead like a pouting child.

"I was actually speaking of you dear," James told his wife while watching Padfoot with worry growing eyes. They'd moved past the Azkaban talk, and James was really starting to want his best friend back. "I've never met anyone so willing to verbally spar with him."

"Flatterer," she scolded with a quirk of her lips.

Sirius agreed Moody wasn't something to underestimate, but he'd always been fair. Hauled in anyone he could get away with and tried not to resort to violence. Crouch though, that was a different story. If he wasn't ill, what was he playing at? What's he been doing rather than attending the schools event?

"He just managed to ask every question we have been this whole time," Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation.

They all stayed silent for a time after that, the only noise Buckbeak snooping around for any bones he'd missed.

Sirius was the first to break the silence, turning to Ron and asking about Percy, wondering if Ron could send a message to him asking about any news from Crouch?

"I'd think he's already been asked that a dozen times over," Lily scoffed. "If he's in charge of the department, he would have told someone by now if he'd actually seen his boss."

"Maybe he might mention something to Ron though," Remus shrugged in Sirius' defense.

Ron agreed he'd try.

Sirius also suggested dropping a question about Bertha, see if there was any more recent news on her.

Harry told about Bagman telling him more recently there wasn't.

Sirius said he wasn't going to take Bagman at word, he'd been quoted saying how bad he thought of Bertha's memory. Sirius though had known her differently, she'd been in school at the same time as him, and she'd had an excellent use of her memory by dishing out the school's gossip.

Harry remembered back to Bertha being mentioned in the same light in here, and Harry had a feeling it wasn't Sirius' memories or Bertha that was different. It was most likely in fact, something very important about her memories that got her into so much trouble...

He could easily picture her being a liability to the Ministry, which is why it may have taken them so long to go looking for her.

He cut himself off with a weary shake of his head, asking what time it was?

Hermione told it was half past three, and Sirius told them to get back to school. Then he gave Harry a particularly hard look,

Harry tried to look innocent of whatever he was sure Sirius was fixing to tell him, which wasn't fooling anyone, not even the canine who managed another huffing laugh with his back still turned to the lot of them.

as he told them not to come back out here unless Sirius said to. Just keep sending notes, he still wanted to hear if anything else odd was happening. They were not to go wandering around out here though, it would be too easy for them to be attacked.

"I love paranoid Sirius," Lily said sincerely, starting to feel some worry herself, she wasn't used to not hearing Sirius speak for so long. "He actually gives good advice."

Sirius gave her a happy little wag of his tail for that.

Harry shot back the only danger he'd been in this year was from a dragon and a grindylow.

Sirius scowled at Harry, telling him not to get lax. He wasn't going to be breathing easily until this was over in June. Then he added on not to go calling him by name in public, and instead they should use Snuffles.

Three collective snorts of laughter appeared for that, Sirius was even so distracted he rolled over to watch them laugh at this.

"I think I get it," Lily said with a small smile. "Sirius told Harry to call him that because he and Remus are the only ones who would understand who that's referring to."

Remus was frowning in consternation, thinking over in his head what all Sirius and Harry had and could be writing to each other over, and grudgingly saying, "yeah, I guess, and if he's thinking of hiding it from a certain someone," he got out through only slightly gritted teeth, "I guess it would make sense not to go with Padfoot."

James wasn't nearly as amused at the reminder for the secrecy, and in all honesty he was entirely certain that rat could pick up on Sirius' handwriting if anything so it still wasn't much use in hiding it from him if he was trying to intercept their letters, but he wasn't going to knock his best friend's paranoia either.

He gave Harry back his bag and said he'd walk with them back to Hogsmeade, try to find another newspaper.

He turned back into the black dog and led the way back down to the stile. He waited patiently as they each gave him a pat on the head, before he vanished back into the shadows.

Harry felt something very heavy sinking down into the pit of him. Somehow, he just knew the next time he saw his godfather wasn't going to be a good thing...

The others weren't feeling much better, each wanting to rub it in that they'd been right all along, Sirius coming back around had been more terrible than anything, though ironically the worst on the man himself.

Padfoot was stretching leisurely and getting back to his feet, shaking himself off as he watched James fingering the last page of this chapter.

The three of them headed back to Hogwarts, Ron asking if Percy knew all that stuff about Crouch?

"I really wouldn't think so," Lily frowned to herself, "I can't help thinking that isn't common knowledge. Crouch would want to keep that as hushed up as possible, and if he didn't talk about his family much before, I wouldn't think he would afterwards."

Then answering himself that he probably wouldn't care, he'd just admire Crouch more for it.

"That's disgusting," Remus yelped in shock. "Ron can't really mean that," his mind had instantly flashed back to the panicky older brother, sobbing and dragging his kid brother out of an icy lake after thinking something had happened to him.

"Yeah, I think Ron's exaggerating on this one," James agreed sadly. "Even Percy's not that bad."

Harry felt a bone deep shiver that he in no way wanted to pretend to process. Surely he was just getting a chill from sitting still so long...Percy would never turn his back on his family like that...

Hermione was shocked at him, telling him Percy would never hand over his family to dementors.

Ron shrugged her off, saying he just might if they stood in the way of his career.

"Oh please stop," Lily whispered as Padfoot froze in place. It was clear he'd been fixing to change back to a person, but at one last mention of those dementors, he released a high pitched keening noise and roughly shook his head as if to scare off a gnat.

They walked back to the smells of dinner starting, and Ron told Harry how much he should appreciate poor Snuffles, living off of rats just to be around.

"That's the least awful thing I've heard about myself recently," Sirius grumbled as he stumbled slightly on his two feet, before going over to James and taking the book away.

HPHPHPHP

I promise Padfoot popping up like that won't become a regular occurrence, no matter how much I loved writing like that, but I can't say he won't ever come back either...

*That whole conversation happened between me and nahte123456.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Marauders #The Life that Never Lived #GoF #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Padfoot #James Potter #Lily Potter

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iffeelscouldkill · 6 years

Text

Roses Are Red (Valentines Are Hard)

A/N: A late Valentine’s Day offering. (Which is in keeping with the theme of the fic, if you read!) Just a silly and (hopefully) cute thing.

Cross-posted to AO3

Violet does a double-take when she sees the date on her holo-display upon waking up that morning. 92-02-14. February 14, 2192. Valentine's Day.

Crap. She'd forgotten about Valentine's Day. Well, more like she'd stopped thinking about Valentine's Day given that the last time she was in anything resembling a 'relationship' had been those four months with Terry right before finals. Ugh. No, she doesn't need to be thinking about that right now.

Is it too late to plan something? she thinks, followed by, Would Arkady even celebrate Valentine's Day?

Arkady isn't exactly the hearts and flowers type, granted, but neither is Violet. She likes genuinely sweet and thoughtful gestures - like using your favourite mint plant to make someone a cup of tea - not saccharine Hallmark declarations of affection. Besides, with her name being Violet, she's heard way too many puns over the years involving that stupid 'Roses Are Red' poem.

Anyway. Violet returns to thinking about Valentine's Day plans. She remembers Sana saying that they would be making a call at Pangu, a small planet with a bustling market, in a couple of days to refuel and resupply. In fact, were they due to land today? If they were, then she had an idea for what she could do to mark the occasion.

After getting dressed, she wanders into the kitchen to make breakfast - and runs into Brian, who is inexplicably wearing a plastic crown on his head.

"Uh, morning, Brian!" she greets him, amused.

"Hey, Violet. Do you do Valentine's Day? If so, Happy Valentine's," says Brian, slicing a banana onto some oatmeal.

"Yeah, I kind of do, as long as it doesn't clash with the Lunar New Year, anyway," Violet replies. "Happy Valentine's Day. And uh, nice crown?"

Brian laughs a little and touches the crown on top of his head. "Thanks. It's a tradition, kinda?"

"Between you and Krejjh?"

"Yeah," Brian says and smiles fondly. "Dwarnians don't really celebrate Valentine's Day or anything like it, though they have a couple of festivals dedicated to bonded couples - married couples, that is - and to intended couples, or-"

"Engaged couples?" Violet fills in. "Yeah, I remember Krejjh referred to you as their "intended", to Eejjhgreb."

"Right. But there's not really a day for like, romance in general? Or for newer couples. So, Valentine's Day came up a couple of months after we sorta, finally, became an official 'couple', but Krejjh didn't know about it. I wasn't expecting us to do anything for it, but we happened to be docked on Bathala, a kind of lawless planet wayyyy on the outer reaches of charted space, almost in the Deep. It's mostly a human planet, but it's not unheard of for humans and Dwarnians to mingle there in peacetime.

"So, Krejjh and I went out to this - cafeteria? A really cheap and kind of commercial place, really hilarious. And Krejjh wanted to know what was with all of the pink, and the hearts, and the flowers. So, I kinda explained it, and they got upset that they didn't have anything to give me, to "symbolise their undying affection"."

Violet giggles.

"I told them I didn't expect anything, but I think part of the appeal was understanding and taking part in a human romantic tradition, so... anyway, they were doing this ongoing competition - eat a huge plate of this legendarily spicy house chili, and win a crown. And a spot in the cafeteria Hall of Fame."

"I think I see where this is going," Violet laughs.

"Right, so Dwarnians also have this thing about competitive acts of bravery to prove their affection. Add to that a love of spicy food, and - that chili didn't stand a chance. Krejjh's portrait is still hanging in the House of Tantalising Tastes Hall of Fame. And I wear this," Brian touches the crown on top of his head, "every Valentine's Day in honour of their victory."

"'House of Tantalising Tastes'?" Violet repeats with glee.

"The finest establishment we ever set foot in," Brian says solemnly.

"Clearly, a sign of great things to come," Violet agrees.

The door whooshes open and Sana comes into the kitchen. "Morning Violet, morning, Brian," she says, cheerfully. Looking between Brian's pleased face and Violet still snorting with laughter, she says,

"Has Brian been telling you the plastic crown story?"

"I don't think I've ever heard a more classic Krejjh tale," Violet laughs.

"Oh, dude, you haven't even heard the story of our first date. I have so many more where that came from."

"Well, you can tell them on the way to the market," says Sana. "We'll be landing on Pangu in half an hour. Violet, are you up for a market run?"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun," says Violet, thinking of her Valentine's Day plan. "Is Arkady coming?" she adds, hoping she sounds casual.

Sana frowns slightly. "She hasn't actually emerged from her room yet, but she usually comes on a market run. I'll knock on her door again in a few minutes and see."

Violet hurries to finish her breakfast and get ready to go out. She's not dressed up, exactly, but she puts on just a little bit of makeup - which she doesn't normally bother with - and a pair of cute, dangly earrings with clusters of flowers hanging down. She smiles at her reflection in a small hand mirror.

However, when Sana knocks on Arkady's door a few minutes later, she's met with a muffled, "Go out without me!"

"Arkady?" Sana calls through the door, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm sick," comes the response, followed by a slightly forced-sounding bout of coughing.

"Do you want me to check you over?" Violet calls.

"Nah, I'm probably contagious. I don't want to get you sick," Arkady calls back. "I'll be better this afternoon, probably."

Sana looks sidelong at Violet and then replies, "All right, make sure you get some rest. It'd be really good if you can make it out later on."

"Count on it," Arkady calls. "Have fun at the market."

Violet is a little despondent over Arkady's absence, but her mood picks up as soon as they get to the market. It's a nice day outside. Pangu has two stars that rise and set at different times and provide light to the planet; one is rising as they step outside, while the other is just past its peak. The combined effect is bright and pleasant.

Normally, Sana and Arkady and occasionally Violet do the market runs while Brian keeps Krejjh company on the ship, but this time Brian comes with them, on the lookout for some kind of mystery item for Krejjh.

Violet winds her way among the stalls, keeping her eyes open for something suitable. There's such a huge variety of stalls and goods on offer - food and clothing, accessories and crafts. She is eventually drawn towards a jewellery stall with elaborate, gothic necklaces and bracelets wrought in silver.

She toys with a cuff with a pattern of interlocking vines, before she spies a black velvet choker with a delicate design in the centre: two silver flowers nestled side by side, with leaves arching around them in the shape of a heart. Violet can't help reaching out to touch it. She loves it, but is it too much? Would Arkady wear it? She feels like she needs a second opinion.

She looks around for Sana, but the Captain is deep among the food stalls, bartering for supplies. Instead she spots Brian, browsing a couple of stalls over.

"Hey, Brian," Violet calls. He looks up and trots over.

"Oh, hey, do they have crown jewellery on this stall? Ooh, they do!"

Brian picks up a large, ostentatious crown pendant hanging off a chain, and beams at it.

"Brian, do... Do you think Arkady would like this?"

Brian looks over at the choker Violet is holding, and smiles. "That's super nice! It's totally Arkady's style, too."

"She doesn't already have one like it, does she?"

Brian tilts his head slightly, thinking, and then shakes his head. "Arkady doesn't really splash out on jewellery that often," he says. "I think she might have a plain one, but that's it."

"All right," says Violet determinedly. "I'll get it for her."

She haggles briefly with the stallholder before buying the choker, and Brian does the same with his crown necklace. Carrying their purchases wrapped in tissue paper, they meet back up with Sana, who is looking triumphant with several bags full of dehydrated food packs, fresh ingredients and other necessities.

"Looks like you made out okay, Captain," says Brian approvingly.

"I'd say I did," Sana agrees, satisfied. "Would you mind taking one of these each?"

They help her haul the bags of supplies back to the ship. To their surprise, as they approach the Rumor, they can see a small delivery drone hovering outside the airlock.

"What's this?" Sana asks, frowning. "I don't remember ordering anything. Did either of you...?" Violet and Brian both shake their heads.

Sana takes hold of the drone's package, which is a matte black cylinder about a foot long, vacuum sealed. Relieved of its delivery, the drone flies off.

Sana peers at the little screen that details the sender and recipient. "It's for me," she says with some surprise. "But there's no sender listed..."

"Do you think it's dangerous?" asks Violet, worried. "Should we get Arkady?"

Sana shakes her head slowly. "Whatever it is, it's passed through an official interstellar Customs checkpoint," she says. "The contents have been certified."

"What does the label say?" Brian asks.

"'Flora,'" Sana replies.

"So, a plant of some kind?" Violet suggests.

"Time to find out..." Sana twists one end of the cylinder, and the vacuum seal releases with a hiss. She hands the cap to Brian and from inside the tube, gently draws out a bouquet: delicate white flowers with dark green leaves and a pale yellow centre.

"Oh," says Sana in a strange voice. "These are my favourites."

"Is that jasmine?" asks Violet, recognising the scent. She's amazed that the flowers have survived the journey from - wherever they came from. It's definitely not a local delivery.

"Hey, there's a note," says Brian, peering into the not-quite-empty delivery tube. He pulls out a folded piece of paper and opens it to reveal a drawing.

"What is that?" Sana asks, puzzled - but Violet recognises the shape.

"Isn't that a soup can?"

"Oh!" says Sana again, in understanding, and her cheeks tint pink.

"It's from Campbell?" Brian asks, delightedly.

Sana nods slowly, leaning forward to smell the flowers. Violet shares a grin with Brian.

"I'll see you guys a little later," Sana says, almost to the flowers. "I have to go make a call."

As she disappears into the ship, they hear her murmur,

"Jasmine... I can't believe he remembered."

Roses are red Violets are blue Wait, your name is Violet, that sounds weird

Roses are red Flowers are pretty This poem is shitty

Roses are red Flowers are lame At least I didn't make A pun on your name

Arkady groans and puts her head down on her arms. With one hand, she reaches out for the closest sheet of notepaper and crumples it, then listlessly flings it across the worktop.

She rubs her eyes as a knock sounds at the door. "What?" she calls, trying to sound croaky and hoarse.

"You can give it up, Arkady, I know you're not sick," Sana calls through the door, quietly.

"I don't know what you're-" Arkady breaks off mid-sentence to fake a coughing fit. "-talking about."

"Right," Sana says drily. "Look, I know you're not much of a one for days like today. I know you'd rather just skip the whole thing. But I don't think... anyone... is expecting something huge. I think they'd just be glad to see you, honestly."

Arkady looks at the crumpled notepaper spread across the worktop, at her failed attempts to write even a clichéd four-line poem.

"I'll be out real soon," she promises Sana.

If she leaves her room now, it'll all have been for nothing. She can't give up.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? How the fuck does the rest of it go

La fleur que tu m'avais jetée Je ne parle pas français

“No, and hell no,” Arkady mutters, tearing the page from her almost empty memo pad. "Fuck. Why is this so hard?"

She sweeps her arm across the metal worktop, clearing it, and stares at the empty surface. Just write from the heart, Kady, she thinks to herself. You've listened to how many flowery declarations of love in operas? It's not that hard. Just project confidence. And your voice. Okay, not your voice.

Hey Violet I think you're super cute and also I want to make out with you

Arkady scribbles violently across the page and contemplates breaking her pencil in two. She should have just gone with her original plan of doodling a bunch of flowers and sliding it under Violet’s door. Or making her a bouquet of mint plants. Or a cup of tea. Something.

Arkady catches sight of the time on her holo-display and feels the bottom drop out of her stomach. 11:42 PM. “Fuck,” she swears vehemently. No, that doesn’t quite cover it. “Breesht.”

She has 18 minutes left of Valentine’s Day. 18 minutes left to come up with the perfect poem. Or even a passable poem. Arkady frantically reapplies herself to her task, ignoring the part of her brain which intones that she’s definitely already fucked it up beyond repair by ignoring Violet for the whole day. She can fix this. With a good enough poem, she can fix this.

Violet isn’t normally an early riser. She gets out of bed at a reasonable hour, and she’s always up and dressed in time to carry out her allocated chores around the ship, but she’s not one of those people who relishes getting up at the crack of dawn. Sana rises with the sun, and Brian and Krejjh keep odd hours, but when neither of them has a night shift, they’re up early to do some kind of Dwarnian meditation. Arkady rolls out of bed at the last possible second, while Violet makes a point of being up by 8 AM at the latest.

The morning after Valentine’s Day, though, she wakes up much earlier than usual – 6:20 AM, ugh – and can’t get back to sleep. She can’t stop thinking about Arkady’s non-appearance yesterday and wondering if she had anything to do with it. Did she do something wrong? Was buying the choker too presumptuous? Should she have tried to talk to Arkady? Slipped the gift through her door?

Several times, Violet had hesitated outside Arkady’s door, wanting to call through it and check on her, but something had held her back. She couldn’t help but think that it was her Arkady was avoiding by staying in her room, and if that was the case, she didn’t want to make things worse. But the anxiety eats away at her.

Sighing, Violet gives up on sleep and sits up, deciding to go to the kitchen and make a cup of tea. She knows she’ll probably run into Sana, if not Brian and Krejjh as well, but it’s better than staying inside her room and stewing.

As she leaves her room, she pockets the tissue paper package containing Arkady’s choker – just in case.

As she’d suspected, Sana, Brian and Krejjh are all awake and drinking coffee in the mess hall as Violet shuffles through on her way to the kitchen.

“Violet!” Krejjh calls out happily. “You’re awake so early! Good morning!”

Violet is barely able to deal with Krejjh’s level of energy before tea on a normal morning, let alone at this hour and with her current level of anxiety. She just about manages a, “Morning, Krejjh.”

Sana is definitely looking at her with sympathy, and Violet prays that the captain doesn’t say anything. While she normally appreciates what Arkady likes to call “the feelings corner”, if Sana tries to comfort her right now, she thinks she might start crying.

But before anyone can say anything else, Arkady bursts into the room.

“Violet!” she cries, skidding to a halt. Her hair is a mess, and she looks like she slept in her clothes – if she even got any sleep. There are dark shadows under her eyes and her expression is slightly wild.

“Arkady?” Violet begins tentatively, but then Arkady is barrelling on, reciting something off a crumpled piece of paper.

“Roses are great, Tulips are too, But of all the flowers, My favourite is you!”

Arkady finishes and looks up at Violet with a mixture of expectancy and trepidation. Uncaffeinated, and taken aback by the sudden – and very public – declaration of affection, Violet is frozen for several seconds. She sees the panic begin to creep into Arkady’s expression, and knows that she’s seconds away from bolting – she needs to do something, quickly.

“Uh…” Brian begins uncertainly, but stops as Violet steps forward and kisses Arkady in front of the whole crew.

Arkady’s eyes widen, and for a second she seems like she might pull away and bolt anyway, but then her eyes flutter shut, and she tenderly returns Violet’s kiss.

The whole thing only lasts for a few moments, but Violet is almost delirious with happiness as she pulls away. She thinks she might literally be floating. Arkady looks slightly dazed, but smiles and rests her forehead against Violet’s.

“So, you liked the poem?” she asks quietly.

“It was perfect,” Violet tells her sincerely. “Oh, I got you something as well-” She takes the tissue-wrapped package out of her pocket and hands it to Arkady, who looks stunned.

“It – you got this for me? Really?”

“Yes,” Violet confirms shyly. “Uh, you can open it back in your room, if you want to-”

“Crewman Jeeter, please can I applaud now?” Krejjh stage whispers, breaking the moment.

“Oh my god,” Arkady complains. “No, absolutely not. Go away, all of you.”

“Uh, you burst in on us, dude,” Brian says with great amusement. “Also, did that rhyme really take you, like, thirty-six hours?”

Arkady flips him off before carefully undoing the tissue paper around Violet’s gift. “It was twenty-four hours at most-” she returns, and then stops short as she uncovers the velvet choker.

Violet realises that she’s unconsciously holding her breath as she waits for Arkady’s reaction. She would rather not have given her the gift in front of the whole crew – would have been happy to let her open it in private, in fact, but she’s desperate to know that Arkady likes it.

“Is it okay?” she asks quietly as Arkady gazes at the gift without speaking. “I saw it at the market yesterday and thought of you, but if it’s not your style, I don’t mind if you-”

The rest of her sentence is lost as Arkady kisses her enthusiastically. This time, Brian doesn’t stop Krejjh from applauding, and Arkady manages to refrain from making obscene gestures until after she and Violet have finished kissing.

“Thanks,” she says quietly to Violet, under Krejjh’s delighted commentary, Brian’s good-natured teasing, and Sana’s encouragement. “I… yeah. Just, thanks.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Violet says, and squeezes her hand.

A/N: "La fleur que tu m'avais jetée" is a romantic aria from the opera Carmen. I doubt Arkady would have had the opportunity to learn any French on Cresswin Landing (outside of an operatic context), but I figured it wasn't out of the question for her to know the phrase, "I don't speak French" (which is what the line after that says).

Also, credit to @thevoicefromthestars who came up with Arkady’s final poem in the Starship Iris Discord. Thank you for inspiring this fic! <3

#vikady #Violet Liu/Arkady Patel #Violet/Arkady #TSCOSI #The Strange Case of Starship Iris #Valentine's Day #roses are red meme #apparently I have a thing for having Vikady kiss in front of the crew #because I think it will take something DRAMATIC to finally get them together #but hopefully it won't actually take 7 months

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wineanddinosaur · 3 years

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Cocktail College: How to Make the Perfect Martini

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The Martini has an important role in drinking culture and is beloved by many. It’s James Bond’s drink of choice, the classic cocktail emoji, and host Tim McKirdy’s favorite cocktail. In this episode of “Cocktail College,” McKirdy is joined by John Clark-Ginnetti, owner of 116 Crown in New Haven, Conn., and a Martini connoisseur.

Clark-Ginnetti makes sure every customer who is served his Martini at 116 Crown has an experience that indulges all the senses. He shares his personal preferences on how to make the drink and what he thinks makes the combination of gin and vermouth so special. Clark-Ginnetti even teaches cocktail culture at Yale University — so, rest assured, his opinion is one you can trust.

Tune in to learn how to make the perfect Martini.

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MAKE JOHN CLARK-GINNETTI’S MARTINI

Ingredients

3 parts Plymouth Gin

2 parts Boissière Dry Vermouth

Garnish: lemon peel

Directions

Add all ingredients to a mixing glass.

Add ice and stir until chilled.

Strain into a chilled Martini glass.

Garnish with a lemon peel.

CHECK OUT THE CONVERSATION HERE

Tim McKirdy: John Clark-Ginnetti, thank you so much for joining us today and welcome to the show.

John Clark-Ginnetti: Thank you very much. Happy to be here.

T: I’m excited about this one. I’m a huge Martini fan, so this is a big episode for me. I really can’t wait to break down the cocktail with you.

All cocktails start with a great story. Cocktail history is documented by people who enjoy a liquid libation and they don’t let facts get in the way of a good tale. So, can you tell us what are some of the most recognized theories behind the genesis of the Martini? What’s the one that you believe?

J: I will tell you the truth: Of all the commonly dispensed versions, I believe almost none of them. I think this is one of the drinks that is so ubiquitous, fraught with differences, and bandied about for years on bar stools, at tables, and restaurants in epicenters of the world, there’s almost too much motivation by interested parties to ever settle on one true beginning for the Martini. It cannot be one.

I mean, we can’t even agree on whether or not we’ve been visited by aliens. That seems to be a pretty straightforward one. So I don’t know if we’re ever going to come up with who had the brilliant idea to put gin, vermouth, and a lemon peel together to make what I would call the most classic, most delicious drink ever.

T: I think it is an otherworldly cocktail. Is the fact that, if I go into my phone to text you, search for the cocktail emoji, and the Martini glass comes up, is that a sign that this is the most iconic cocktail in the world?

J: Yeah…

T: You’re hesitant there?

J: I’m not an avid emoji user. I have three or four and I’m very sure that I’m using them wrong. But, I think [the emoji] certainly points to the fact that it’s the most thought-of drink. Part of that is just because of the physical stature. It’s got its own glass. Once you get to that, you’ve reached a certain point. It’s like when you can just go by your first name.

T: Madonna. Cher. Martini.

J: Martini.

JAMES BOND AND THE MARTINI

T: Bond, James Bond. That’s a nice segue there. Building upon that iconic status, you do have this conversation that I think, within the bar world, is not even an argument anymore — shaken versus stirred. Even outside of the bar world, I think most people know that is an error. I’m not sure that everyone knows why that is, though. Let’s start by breaking that down.

J: I tend to see some charm in it as well. I don’t think it was intentional — I don’t think Ian Fleming said, “I’m going to sew this little mistake into the rug because everything else is so perfect.” Everybody makes mistakes.

As a Bond fan, one of the cool things that we’re seeing in some of the more recent Bonds is that he’s fallible and he’s been made to be a little more human. But there is no reasonable argument to be shaking vermouth, ever. I wonder if the statement is true that pretty much everyone knows. I think everyone has heard it, but I don’t think they’re really believers.

I am a huge advocate of a Martini being three ingredients and three ingredients only. I don’t think that olives belong in it. I don’t think that vodka belongs in it. I certainly don’t think that espresso or peanut butter belong in it. I’m also not so in love with myself that I’m unwilling to concede that there is going to be some degree of the population that believes everything that comes in a v-shaped glass with a stem is going to be a Martini. I’m sure there’s somebody with a wall of Bond posters and collectibles that is going to shake their Martini, gosh darn it, no matter what you say to them.

The other interesting part about the Bond legacy is that, while the Martini is the most understood, agreed on, and ordered drink by Bond, throughout the years he has segued and had some Vespers. He’s getting a little less uptight.

T: As the advertisers come in, he’s partial to a Heineken these days and whatnot. You mentioned that vermouth should never be shaken, in your opinion. Can you tell us why that is?

J: It’s actually very striking that this comes with the Bond conversation. For me, principally, it’s a matter of looks. I subscribe very profoundly to the idea that all of the senses should be engaged when enjoying a drink or food. That’s why I think that the lemon twist is so important to the Martini.

When that glass rises to your face, before it even gets near your nose, that lemon just serves to wake up the senses and say, “Get ready for something delicious.” By the same extension, when you’re shaking wine — which is what vermouth is — it doesn’t look very good. A Martini should always be crystal clear. It should almost look innocent. It should look like spring water. There should be that wink of vermouth when you look at it.

As somebody who’s been staring at beverage alcohol for 20 years, sometimes my younger employees are struck when I can tell that they’ve added a little bit of vodka into their soda, just by the viscosity. I might be taking things too far when I analyze a drink, but nine and a half out of 10 times, the drink I’m analyzing is either one that I’m going to drink or one that I’m going to serve.

I think taking that editing eye to it is important. Much like you wouldn’t put your Châteauneuf-du-Pape on a paint mixer before you drink it, you shouldn’t be shaking your Martini, right?

T: Well, I’m sorry to say that they’re doing it in “Succession.” But yeah, you shouldn’t be, of course.

J: There’s no point to it. You’re not trying to aerate the drink. You’re not trying to introduce citrus to the drink, especially when being enjoyed by a guy who’s wearing an Omega, Brioni suit, and packing a Walther. No shaking.

T: I was probably wrong earlier in saying that everyone knows not to shake, but I do think we’ve put that to bed as to why we shouldn’t be doing it.

This cocktail is going to be very different from most of the ones that we’re exploring in this series in that there is no one fixed recipe. The Martini is so personal, which is what I love about it. I find, maybe the more interesting conversation to be about the ratios. Again, there’s this amazing tie-in to history. Can you tell us about some of the more recognized ratios? Maybe some of them have a cool backstory? What’s the one that you personally go for yourself?

J: I think that the ratios are much more up for debate than anything regarding shaking or stirring. As the person who is stomping my feet and lighting a match over the proper way to make this, I always have to concede that the Martini that I serve, technically, is a Gin French. The ratio has more vermouth than would be counted on by your average Martini imbiber. That said, I think the only responsible way to understand the Martini and really be a student of it is to investigate what the fans have to say about the drink.

If the Martini was a baseball player and was being inducted into the Hall of Fame, there are stats. You’re standing on this stage because you hit this many home runs. You committed this many errors. For that, you get a reason to stand on the stage. There’s going to be something written on the plaque that’s going to be hung on the wall and acknowledge that those numbers got you the right to have that place. I think that’s really where the debate comes in with the Martini.

Shaking gin and vermouth will not get you onto the stage. Off brands will not get you onto the stage, or if there’s no attention paid to ingredient quality. The Apple Martini is never going to be part of the Cocktail Hall of Fame. Once those attributes are satisfied to get you onto the stage, it’s really about what gets written on the plaque. That, whether it be baseball or Martinis, inherently goes back to the fans.

Some of the best literature that’s been written about the Martini is always talking about how there are the senses — the smelling of the lemon, the fact that it needs to be ice cold — but what happens afterwards is where I always find the poetry. In the class that I teach at Yale College with Dr. Jessica Spector, when we talk about the Martini, the title of that day’s course is “The Martini Is Civilized.”

I like to read from “The Sun Also Rises.” Hemingway is choosing Martinis to set a mood. They’re talking about how, “It’s good. Isn’t it a nice bar?” You could be hoisting a Heineken. You could have an ice-cold beer. But, the fact that they’re having Martinis is in there for Hemingway to set the understanding of what’s trying to be achieved by both parties sitting there.

As you said, the Martini is going to be different from anything else that gets discussed on your show. When the Martini is in a book or on TV — I hate to keep going back to Bond, but I’ve made this case in the class — you have to ask, “Why is Bond drinking a Martini?”

My theory is that he needs to be civilized because he’s a murderer. He is a mass murderer. He’s an assassin. He’s probably killed more people than any of the horror villains. Bond’s got the Freddy Kruegers of the world beat by the thousands. How do you take this horrible person and temper him into somebody who’s doing it for the honor of sovereignty? Everything else has to be that. He has to be well dressed. He has to have an Aston Martin. When you consider the drink, he has to have a Martini.

HOW TO MAKE THE PERFECT MARTINI

T: At the beginning there, you talked about your preferred serve being the Gin French. In terms of technical build, what are we looking at there, gin to vermouth? On top of that, given how we’re speaking about this being a very personal drink, do you actually have a standard serve at your bar that you’re teaching your bartenders? Are you saying, “OK, unless someone says anything, this is the way that we’re going to serve them?”

J: We have a menu, and when somebody orders a Martini — as you said, it’s a personal drink — the first question that’s asked is, “Do you want our Martini or would you like something else?”

In the case that they’re ordering from the menu — that’s, of course, what I prefer, because I like them to be buying what we’re selling — the thing that also figures into that is the brand. If you were to look up the Gin French, you’re going to get three parts gin to two parts vermouth. Now, there’s nothing in there that calls for a brand.

As we know, gins and vermouths both can taste very different. This is one of the reasons that I felt comfortable calling ours the Martini, because I thought that the Plymouth gin, the Boissière dry vermouth, and the lemon twist conveyed more of a Martini taste and feel. Again, the origin of this is so dubious that we’ll never get there. We came to that combination by reading through countless great books about the drink, tasting that, and, honestly, hearing from other people who were tasting it that said, “Yeah, this is the Martini that we want to sell. This is what we’ve been reading about. This is the feeling. This is the taste. This is the look. This is the smell. This is a Martini.”

If you’re not accounting for those brands, it’s really hard to qualify that. If we were to make this with something with a much more juniper-forward flavor, the ratios would change. Then, in my mind, it wouldn’t be a Martini.

T: I love that you do have it on the menu as well, because that’s how I like to start a night. If I go to a cocktail bar full of proprietary drinks, I feel like a bit of an asshole ordering a Martini, but that’s how I love to start the night.

How important is it, even if you don’t have it on the menu, just to have a house spec so that, when that situation arises, unless someone has their preferred way of it being served, that everyone at your bar is making it consistently?

J: I think it’s incredibly important. If you open a bar, you’re going to be making them. It’s not something that’s never going to get ordered. It’s the same as a Manhattan. You can leave it off your menu, but you’re going to be asked for it. There should be a house spec because it’s going to become part of your identity.

There’s two sides to every bar. They serve good drinks. They don’t serve good drinks. Once they serve their drinks, that’s going to be one that you’re measured on. Whether or not it’s on the menu or not, if you have three different bartenders making it three different ways, that’s an issue.

Somebody who knows about restaurants as intimately as you do, knows that consistency is of the utmost importance. People come back because they had a good experience. No one is showing up because the last time they came it was garbage. They might show up despite that, but they don’t show up with that in mind. It’s incredibly important.

In fact, my favorite uncle talks about his days bartending. I cringe when he tells the stories from time to time. He talks about how he would make up a pitcher of Martinis and a pitcher of Manhattans and just shove them in the ice. He was playing catch up. These are the good old restaurant war stories where somebody walked out or hurt their foot, and you had to make drinks for 1,500 people. At the very least, though, if he was making 10 gallons at a time, at least they’d all taste the same.

T: Every Martini he served that night might have been consistently bad, but they all tasted the same, which is good. You’ve got to be consistent.

J: Yeah. They could have been dog water, but they were all dog water.

T: That’s pretty good. I would say that that’s actually a better indication of a bar, that I know what I’m going to get. If I go to a local bar and I know that their draft beer is lousy, I’ll get a little bottle of Modelo. I don’t want it to be great one day and then the next day, the line’s rubbish. The beer’s got no head. If you know what you’re getting, I think we like that as humans. I think that’s important here.

J: That was the argument for bar tools 20 years ago. I would hire people and they’d say, “I can eyeball two ounces. I know how to pour an ounce. I don’t want to use the jigger. What are you talking about?” I had a guy, when I was doing my first training 14 years ago, say, “Did you ever use a jigger?” I said “No, and I know the drinks were inconsistent. So we’re going to do that here.”

T: Exactly. I think it’s those small incremental changes that all combine to really up the quality.

I want to talk about the specific ingredients now. I have a confession to make: I got into Martinis via the New Western style of gin, if you want to call it that. I actually got into it through a Japanese gin that was very light and more citrus-forward. For the longest time, I’d been put off by the flavor of juniper, but that’s a horror story going back to my kitchen days, for a different time.

How do you feel about New Western gins versus the classic London Dry? Of course, you’re using Plymouth, which I would say falls in between, somewhat. Maybe it’s a little bit more New Western. What are you thinking about within those three different styles of gin?

J: I’m always an advocate for progress and change, so I don’t think that something is so sacred that it should never be touched or messed with. Nothing’s above reproach when it comes to that.

I don’t think that all gins, regardless of where and when they were founded, are going to be in a Martini. In my mind, the Martini is the brands and proportions that we use at 116 Crown. Again, I love any sort of progress. I’m not even that opposed to people calling it a Martini if it’s got a spicy green bean in it. If that’s the expression that you’re looking to make, then good on you.

I am consistently mesmerized when I see the expressions that people are putting on gin. Gin sort of lends itself to that as well. As long as it’s got some juniper, anything else goes. That almost has a nod to the culinary world, where sometimes it’s hard to judge creativity because you don’t know where the lines are. You can say, “This is a gin because it has juniper, but then we’ve done all these other things to it. So, this is our expression of gin.”

You could see it in molecular gastronomy. You might order a strip steak and get a bowl of tapioca bubbles, but they were filled with gravy and redolent of steak. You could grin and understand the sometimes comic message that the chef was trying to get across. I see that very much when it comes to the newer expressions of gin. If you have something coming out of the East and it’s featuring produce that’s associated with the East, you think, “Oh, OK. Japanese gin. Got it.”

T: Exactly.

J: It’s going to have that juniper. I think Hendrick’s was really early to the party with this. I always say to people, if you’ve got three or four minutes in the afternoon to waste and you want to see a really well-produced, likely extraordinarily expensive website, go to the Hendrick’s website.

There’s cucumbers getting launched out of cannons. Roses are falling from heaven. It’s just cucumber, rose, cucumber, rose, top hat, unicycle, cucumber, rose. But, when you look at the bottle, there’s no cucumbers and there’s no roses. There’s a sprig of juniper.

You have that history and, in the case of Hendricks, you have playfulness. In the case of some Eastern gins, you have a sense of place. I thought St. George’s gin lineup was always so cool because they’d promote that “This is the one that grows outside the distillery. Enjoy. Take a shot at that one. That’s super cool.

T: Talk about bringing terroir into spirits. We talk about it in different forms and you can argue whether you can taste terroir in whiskeys that have been distilled using a base of organic grain, but then aged in barrels for 10 years. Another great example is The Botanist, where they hire a full time forager on their island, who’s going around all year picking ingredients for that gin. That’s gin with a sense of place. You can’t argue against that. I think that’s one of the incredible parts of it and informs what you’re saying. You know where the line is. You can use new ingredients. You can use different ingredients. But, you’ve always got to question why, and whether they work.

J: Absolutely. Even in the case of the Martini, I think it was Franklin Roosevelt who was mixing the Martinis himself and did not make his usual recipe. He poured it for some heads of state, presidents, and secretaries of other countries, and was so unwilling to admit that he made a mistake. Henceforth, that’s how they were served in the White House.

For terroir, The Botanist is a great example. For the London Dry ones, look at the ingredients on Bombay Sapphire. It’s a London Dry gin called Bombay. They were obviously looking to get your head somewhere else and possibly celebrate some conquering and possible other things.

T: Things we probably wouldn’t celebrate today.

J: Yeah. Well put. Thank you. Advancing the agenda is always in the favor of the medium. You have to advance the message to get attention to the medium. How many people want to drink the exact same gin that their grandparents drink, unless they’re thinking of their grandparents?

T: That really brings us back to the soul of the Martini and it being this cocktail that you can personalize. Maybe there’s different Martinis for different times of day. If we move on from gin to vermouth, again, it brings us back to that ratio conversation. I personally think the 50/50 is a crime against the Martini, but I know that it’s very fashionable these days. I can see a place for it.

Maybe you’re using a vermouth that’s more expressive than your classic styles that you might get from France or Italy. (We’re talking dry vermouth here.) I’ve tried newer ones or smaller-production ones that are more expressive. I can see why you would probably want to mix that in a 50/50 Martini. What’s your approach when it comes to that? Obviously you want the harmony of the two ingredients, but the vermouth is the supporting actor and it’s got to know its place. We’re not shaking it, so we’re giving it respect.

J: It has to be the supporting actor. That’s why there’s awards for supporting actors.

T: There’s perennial supporters out there who just do a great job.

J: Yeah, I agree. Unfortunately, vermouth is a beautiful thing. Vermouth is wonderful with a sprig of celery at 1:30 in the afternoon in somebody’s garden, whose child you might be involved with and meeting parents for the first time. You don’t want to fire anything back.

T: You don’t want two Martinis?

J: Don’t want to have the double size Vesper, you know, and have to have somebody’s folks calling you an Uber. For sheer assertiveness on the palate and alcohol content, vermouth should be there to help the gin achieve its greatest expression.

T: I’m going to move us onto something after this. I want to ask a quick yes or no question, which is orange bitters?

J: I am in the yes business.

T: You’re in the yes business for bitters?

J: For me, though, it’s a no.

T: Oh, OK.

J: I’m in the yes business, but that one, for me, it’s a no. It’s unnecessary. It’s too much.

T: Is that the chef trying to have their imprint where it’s not needed, going too far, and not letting the produce shine?

Let’s move on to stirring. You mentioned engaging all the senses, not just when you’re drinking, but when you’re making this drink. I’ll shout-out Maison Premiere in New York. They have a fantastic tableside Martini service. When they make it, they tell you the story of it as they’re doing it. It’s a whole procession. They pull their gin from the freezer, stir it, and they’re not gauging by how cold the glass gets or how many revolutions. It’s all by sight and viscosity.

Is that something you subscribe to? Can you tell us a little bit more about what we should be looking for, if that’s the case, in that scenario?

J: I really like that sort of a presentation because it’s so deeply personal to that restaurant. Unless you’re going to a chain, you’re looking for an original point of view. I think them doing it that way — it might not be my way — is a wonderful way to do it. Just the act of them forcing you to put your pleasure in the hands of their senses is interesting. They’re looking at this. They’re judging by viscosity. They’re using their eyes. There’s something that is deeply caring in there that all restaurants and bars should have. It’s a really great way to get that point across without having to put it on the website: We deeply care about you. If you walked in stone cold off the street, didn’t know where you were, and ordered that Martini, you would come away feeling that. It’s also quite brilliant.

You can always argue good and bad, but that’s opinion. Once you give something a story, once you give it a history, it’s much harder to refute. You can always say, “Hey, I don’t like Martinis without orange bitters, because I don’t like them.” But, this is why you see so many restaurants who are using grandma’s recipes and so many places that have this deep sense of purpose and place. That’s because it’s irrefutable. That’s the story. If that’s your grandmother’s sauce, that’s your grandmother’s sauce. I wasn’t there.

T: That’s something that will come up a lot, I believe, in these conversations. You’ve got to have conviction. You have to have questioned why and have a reason for why you’re doing something. Maybe one of the reasons I do love the Martini so much is because it reminds me of cooking.

There’s all these things that you’re taught in the kitchen: You should season mushrooms as you’re sautéing them, but other vegetables you should season afterwards because the salt’s going to concentrate. There’s all these little techniques. Scientifically, can we prove them? Absolutely not. At least you’re thinking about it, though, and you have a reason for the way that you’re doing whatever it is. That comes back to that viscosity and the other things that you’re talking about.

J: Those are also nice little tip-offs, too. I had a chef friend tell me one time that one of his “tells” for what kind of kitchen he was in was seeing if they had soy sauce and where they grabbed the handle of the spoon. The metal spoon in the pot is hot at the top, but cooler at the bottom. You could have somebody come in with this dynamite resume and they’re burning their hand when they try to stir the sauce. He would just know right off the bat. If you’re watching somebody sauté mushrooms and season at the same time, there’s a sense of reassurance that they at least check that box.

T: This might be, again, just one of these individual things. I’ve got two little things to run by you. One is cracking the ice before you stir it. The other one is that someone’s told me before that I should be stirring my gin over ice first and then adding vermouth to finish and stir so that we’re not diluting the vermouth too much. Where do you stand on those two things?

J: I think that it’s a matter of your ice and environment. I have another chef friend of mine that keeps his risotto in the same place in the kitchen and it’s not on the stove. He just knows his kitchen so well and knows exactly what he’s going to get when he grabs from that risotto every single time.

For instance, the bar at 116 is lit stone. Three or four years ago, we replaced the lights from fluorescent to LED. All of a sudden, the ice is melting much slower in the bin. It was so strange. We were like, “Oh, God, the ice well. Why is this lasting so much longer?” It was because it wasn’t as hot. The LEDs aren’t throwing any heat. Then, we were able to dim them. That was the other thing. Things are looking different. The area is changing. So I think this is another place where you really just have to trust the methods that have been developed in the place that you are. I would be reluctant to give a full yes or hard no on either of those.

We’re talking about temperature and dilution. Does the shaking tin go under hot water right after you serve your drinks? That’s going to change things as well. If you’re keeping your gin in a freezer and it’s going into a hot or cold tin, you’ve got bigger problems to figure out than cracking the ice and adding the vermouth. If I was going for a really, really dry Martini, I would probably stir some of the gin over the ice, pour that out — because that’s going to be the most watered down — and then start over. If I really just wanted that cold gin in the style of W.C. Fields, glancing at the vermouth, I would want to go as far as I could in that direction.

T: Like you said, there’s so many different variables there when it comes to ingredients and equipment, temperature-wise. I think one thing we can all agree on is that the glass should be coming from the freezer. Do you still subscribe to the Martini glass yourself, or are we talking coupes, Nick and Nora? I mean, those glasses look great.

J: They do look great. I like a Martini glass for a Martini. I am not stuck on the very conventional “v” with no extra ornamentation. I have used Martini glasses with pronounced lips, which is always very much appreciated by the staff because it’s a lot harder to spill them. I’ve used a concave “v,” a convex “v.”

It’s not that different from the conversation we’re having about gin itself. It’s harder to be creative in a way that’s going to be understood by an audience if they don’t have a touchstone. Once you understand that emoji-shaped Martini, the rest can be more easily internalized.

I say this all the time to people about the restaurant. Is this the best drink I’m ever going to make? Absolutely not. Unfortunately, I have to sell them after I make them. If I only made it for me, then I’d only have one guest a night and it’d be me. You have to be cognizant of your audience as well. If you’re going to have a place that has a more sophisticated audience, I think it’s a little bit easier to get creative in that way.

When it comes to the Martini going in a Martini glass, I think it’s appropriate and appreciated. That being said, — and this happens from time to time at 116 — when somebody wants a half a Martini, we put it in the Nick and Nora because it’s a much nicer presentation than serving somebody a half drink. At that point, why don’t we just serve it to them lukewarm with bugs in it?

T: I’m wondering if you have any final thoughts on this drink? I think we can definitely talk for longer about it. I know I could, but is there anything pertinent that we haven’t covered?

J: Any time I have these types of discussions, I always like to temper it a bit with the idea that what’s really important is for the end user to be satisfied. I could sit there and tell you this is the right way all day long, but if it just doesn’t do it for you, you shouldn’t be scared off or write off the drink automatically.

One of the cool things about the Martini is that, no matter how right I think I am, at the end of the day, it’s all up to your taste. There are very few things that I don’t like to eat and drink, but if they ever come across my plate, I’m not doing it. I’ve eaten and sipped my way through so many different genres and flavors. There’s not a lot that just doesn’t do it for me. If somebody tells you that they don’t like to eat fish, it’s probably not the mountain you want to die on. If you can get a little bit of salmon dip onto their plate once in a while, you’ve got to be happy with that.

Especially with the Martini, it’s so nuanced. My first Martini order was done to impress the people I was with. I had never tasted it. I didn’t know if I liked it. I ordered it completely wrong. The bartender, who was not excited to make the Martini, asked if I wanted it up or on the rocks. I didn’t know what I was talking about, so I asked for it on the rocks. When she gave it to me, I said, “Can I have it in the better looking glass?”

A lot of the Martini itself is in the glass, but a lot of the Martini comes from somewhere else. I think a really great quote about the Martini is from James Carville, where he says, “The ultimate feeling in the world is to be about two- thirds of the way through my second Martini with people I like. Anything seems possible.” If you can get there — I don’t care if you have orange bitters and are drinking it hanging from the ceiling by your feet — that’s what it’s about. That’s what it is.

T: Then you’ve got to stop. If you get the full way through the second one, then not a lot is possible.

J: It can be, but what are the proportions of these? Are these 50/50, because I could probably have two more?

T: That very much is true.

GETTING TO KNOW JOHN CLARK-GINNETTI

T: It’s been great to explore this cocktail with you, John. I loved the discussion. Could even do another one on this. Right now, I’d love to get to know you a little bit more for our listeners with our stock quickfire questions at the end here. How’s that sound?

J: Sure. Great.

T: Fantastic. First question for you. What’s the first bottle, brand, or general category that makes it onto your bar program?

J: Geez, that’s tough. How about genre? Because it would be gin. I love to work with gin just because it’s got so much character and there are so many ways to influence the character. We talked earlier about terroir. I think whiskey is a beautiful thing, but you’re giving it if the expression is from the wood. You just have so many more options with gin to give it that character.

T: Yeah. Gin’s the best.

J: Gin’s the best.

T: Second. Which ingredient or tool do you think is the most undervalued in a bartender’s arsenal?

J: This is just my opinion. Since we’ve been discussing the Martini, I think it is the fine-mesh strainer. If you are serving a drink up, which is to indicate without ice, I think that there should be no ice present at all.

T: 100 percent. I hate shards of floating ice in a Martini. That is a no from me.

J: Absolutely. I’ll take the bill, please.

T: Next question: What’s the most important piece of advice you’ve received in this industry?

J: Probably to just be yourself. Be creative. I’m not trying to sound too much like a Whitney Houston song, but that’s going to be the thing that’s most easily deliverable. If you’re out there and you have talent and you’re dialing it back at all, be as far in the “you” direction as you can go, because you’re going to do that better than everybody else 100 percent of the time.

T: Love it. If you could only visit one bar in the rest of your life, which bar would that be?

J: Not mine?

T: Oh, it can be yours.

J: Then it would be mine. Too much blood, sweat, and tears to go anywhere else.

T: I love it. Final question for you. If you knew that the next cocktail you drank was going to be your last, what would you make or what would you order?

J: Oh, it would be a Martini.

T: 100 percent.

J: All day long. The one I’ve been serving. I think it’s perfection, and if I was only going to have one more drink, it would have to be a Martini.

T: At least you’d feel somewhat happy to go, I think.

J: I agree.

T: Amazing. Well, John, thank you so much for joining us for today’s episode. It’s been a blast.

J: My pleasure. Very much my pleasure. Thank you so much for having me.

T: Look forward to the next time.

J: Let’s do it.

If you enjoy listening to the show anywhere near as much as we enjoy making it, go ahead and hit subscribe, and please leave a rating or review wherever you get your podcasts — whether that’s Apple, Spotify, or Stitcher. And please tell your friends.

Now, for the credits. “Cocktail College” is recorded and produced in New York City by myself and Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tastings director and all-around podcast guru. Of course, I want to give a huge shout-out to everyone on the VinePair team. Too many awesome people to mention. They know who they are. I want to give some credit here to Danielle Grinberg, art director at VinePair, for designing the awesome show logo. And listen to that music. That’s a Darbi Cicci original. Finally, thank you, listener, for making it this far and for giving this whole thing a purpose. Until next time.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Cocktail College: How to Make the Perfect Martini appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/complete-guide-martini-recipe/

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tastesoftamriel · 7 years

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Into Oblivion, part 1 (a long tale by Talviel)

[Welcome to my magnum opus! This is a massive project that took me a hell of a long time to write, so for those of you who enjoy reading my work or like long stories, there is plenty for you to devour! Thanks for reading, and as always I appreciate your feedback!]

Sundas, 2nd of Last Seed, 4E 208. I was back in Whiterun after years away, catching up with old friends as I made my way back east to Riften. However, one afternoon as I was shopping for ingredients in the Plains District, a courier bounded up to me, handing me a crumpled roll of parchment. I tipped him and went back to The Bannered Mare to read it, curious as to what it contained. Unrolling it, the parchment bore no content except the sigil of the Nightingales, with the word “Raven Rock” scrawled messily underneath. The mark of Nocturnal. I looked at my shortsword, the Nightingale blade, lying in its scabbard on the table next to me. My gut wrenched with the thought of any harm coming to Brynjolf or Karliah, my fellow Nightingales, and what could be happening on Solstheim that demanded such a cryptic message. I had sworn that my Guild days were over, and yet I had taken the oath to Nocturnal. This was something I could not ignore. Deciding that if I had to go all the way to Raven Rock with no explanation, I would make it worth my while and finally convinced Geldis Sadri to teach me how to make his famous sujamma after many persuasive letters. Upon my triumph, I reluctantly left Skyrim and set off on the long journey back east.

Since my first visit to Solstheim in the year 202, Raven Rock had really transformed from being a sleepy village to a booming ebony mining town, with miners from all over Tamriel coming over hoping to strike it rich. When I stepped off the boat, the first thing I did was to stop by Glover Mallory’s forge to say hello and sharpen my sword and kitchen knives. Glover was surprised to see me, but as usual complained about how his brother Delvin in Riften never bothered to come over instead. “This has nothing to do with the Guild, Glover, you know I haven’t been with them in years! Besides, you know Delvin always complains he doesn’t have the stomach for the ship ride over.” I said as he got to work on my knives, trying not to think about the Guild business I was definitely involved in for the love of the Nightingales.

The next stop was my slightly neglected house, Severin Manor, that I had acquired through a long and complicated series of events involving House Severin that I won’t mention here. I had hired a live-in housekeeper to look after the place and give a local a roof over their head, but I visited only when I happened to be in the area, which is rarely. Still, the manor was well kept and tidy, and the fireplaces were lit for my arrival. My housekeeper, Felayn, greeted me warmly, asking if he could assist with my luggage or anything else. I declined, having never gotten used to anyone doing anything for me, despite my growing fame through Tamriel.

After settling in, I decided it was time to peruse the marketplace before heading over to see Geldis. The mining boom had brought in a colourful array of folk, including Redguards selling exotic spices, fabrics, and weapons, to Argonians with medicinal herbs from Black Marsh and Khajiits with their usual hodge-podge of items found during their travels. It was a far cry from the single alchemy shop, general store, and ash yam stall from when I had first set foot in Raven Rock. Sellers called out, advertising their wares. I bought an abundance of ash yams and spices, and treated myself to a new scarf. Happy with my purchases, I turned to head towards the Retching Netch, only to feel a hand on my shoulder. I whipped around quickly, reaching for my knife.

“Easy, lass. Was hoping for a warmer welcome but that’s my fault for startling you.” Said a familiar red-headed man dressed in Thieves Guild armour. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Brynjolf? What on earth are you doing here?” I exclaimed. “You never leave Riften!” It was only then I noticed his eyes were darting around nervously. “Got a quieter place we can talk, lass? Here probably isn’t the best.” “Of course,” I said, and we headed back to Severin Manor in silence.

“Are you hungry? I can make us some ash yam casserole.” I offered. Brynjolf set down his weapons and satchel, settling wearily into a chair. “Aye, that sounds good, lass. It was a bumpy journey from Windhelm to here so I could do with a bit of rest before getting down to business.” “You had me intrigued at ‘business’. What’s this all about, Brynjolf?” I asked, putting on my apron and setting out my ingredients and kitchen equipment.

“Well, first of all, you’re no longer with the Guild, so I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but I trust you lass, and could probably do with some help.” He began. “The first thing was to convince Glover to come back to the Guild and help establish a new branch over here in Solstheim, since the mine is open again and there’s gold for the taking. He may be hard to sway, but Delvin gave me a letter to pass to him that just might change his mind. No idea what it says, and I don’t really care as long as it brings Glover back into the fold.”

“And what else aren’t you telling me?” I asked, dicing up the ash yams. “Ah lass, we’ve got a big job on our hands. Real big. You’ll never believe it, but the High King sent us an emissary for the job. As soon as he opened his mouth, nobody wanted anything to do with it. Even our little Vex said no, that’s how dangerous it is. The pay is so big we can’t afford to say no though, and nobody says no to the High King in the first place.” He rubbed his face, looking worried. “So that left just me. And now you, I guess.”

I stopped chopping. “What makes you think I’m going to help with Guild business? And did you know I’d be here?” Now I was suspicious.

“No lass, I didn’t. I was just as surprised to see you in the market as you were to see me. Talk about good fortune, I guess. I know you’d rather not have anything to do with Guild business, but you did help out the last time in Riften so-”

“Brynjolf,” I interrupted him, “that was picking a few pockets for the thrill of it. Whatever you’re about to say sounds dangerous, and for fuck’s sake, I’m a chef. I’m no longer a Nightingale, or the Dragonborn, or whatever else I was back then. I just want to live a quiet life with as little drama as possible.” I mentioned nothing of the message I had received in Whiterun, knowing now that it was sent by Karliah and suspicious of what her intentions were.

Brynjolf looked despondent. “Please lass, I’m begging you.” He said quietly. “If this were anything else I’d go alone, but even with a whole army I wouldn’t be able to guarantee we’d get out alive. You’re probably the best fighter I know. Just hear me out, please.”

“I’m listening.” I said, leaning against the kitchen bench with my arms folded. “The High King got word that a gate of Oblivion has opened for the first time in over 200 years, here on Soltsheim. And he wants me to go in and retrieve the great sigil stone from within. But I can’t do it alone.” He explained, growing paler by the second.

“That’s not possible. Neither a gate of Oblivion or a sigil stone have been seen since the time of Martin Septim. Are we talking the Deadlands? Mehrunes Dagon? The bloody Amulet of Kings or a bloody Septim Emperor that we don’t have? This is insane. This is a death trap, Brynjolf, why on earth did you agree to this? This is a job for the Fighter’s Guild, or the Dark Brotherhood, or…someone else. Why the Thieves Guild? Why us?”

“The High King thought it best to ask us since he wants us to filch every bit of treasure we can find beyond that gate. It’s the job for a thief, and no one else. And in return he’s promised us three million septims and a guarantee that the Guild will be protected and immune to any criminal repercussions within Skyrim, no questions asked, for a minimum of eight generations. I couldn’t turn it down, lass, you’ve got to understand. Please, help me. You can help yourself to whatever we plunder and I can promise you at least a quarter of the gold the High King promised us.”

“Brynjolf, did I ever tell you that you’re completely insane? First the Eye of the Falmer and now this?” I spluttered. But my mind was ticking. Almost a million gold and valuable objects we may never see again in our lifetime stirred the thief within me. I would never have to work again, could build a mansion outside of Riften for my parents and I to live in, and settle down happily ever after.

“I know, lass. But you’ve got some of that insanity in you too. Don’t forget, you’re a Nightingale and always will be, whether you like it or not. You took the oath. So as a fellow Nightingale, I’m asking you in the name of Nocturnal, please, just this once, help me. Please.” He walked over to the counter next to me and opened a bottle of Alto wine, taking a large swig.

“Brynjolf, if I didn’t love you, I’d tell you to get out of my house right this instant. But as a fellow Nightingale, I accept this quest. I will follow you into Oblivion.” I said after a minute’s silence. Brynjolf paused with the bottle halfway to his lips, looking stunned.

“You…you will?” He stuttered, looking more relieved than I’d ever seen him in the many years I’d known him. “Lass…I don’t know what to say, but I promise you it’ll be worth your while. It’ll be an adventure, just like the old days, eh?”

“Yeah, except in the old days we wouldn’t be faced with dremora and clannfears and Talos knows what else is in the Deadlands, if these rumours are true.” I muttered. “Pass me that goddamn wine. We have dinner, then we rest, and we plan our attack tomorrow.”

“Agreed. I can’t say it enough, but thank you, lass. I know I’m asking too much, but thank you.” He moved closer, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me on the forehead.

“Don’t play me like that, Brynjolf.” I muttered, swiping away the tears that had suddenly welled up in my eyes. “Now you can do me a favour and chop the blasted onions. Thinly sliced, if you please.”

End of part 1

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wbwest · 7 years

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New Post has been published on WilliamBruceWest.com

New Post has been published on http://www.williambrucewest.com/2017/08/25/west-week-ever-pop-culture-review-82517/

West Week Ever: Pop Culture In Review - 8/25/17

In movie news, there was quite the controversial casting this week, as the color lines blurred for some comic book adaptations. First up, it was announced that English actor Ed Skrein would be portraying Japanese character Ben Daimio in the upcoming Hellboy reboot. Now, according to what I’ve read, Daimio’s Japanese heritage heavily influences the character, so this whitewashing of the character doesn’t seem to be in the best interest of the character. I mean, after the problems with whitewashing in Doctor Strange, Ghost in the Shell, Aloha, The Great Wall, and Ni’ihau, you’d think Hollywood would avoid shit like this. Yes, movies are made to make money, but it’s not like Skrein is a bankable star worth slotting into the role, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Usually this is done for the film’s STARS. Damon, Johansson, Stone. This is a secondary character, so it really wouldn’t have hurt them to seek out an Asian actor. Normally I’m just like “Well, Hollywood’s gonna Hollywood”, but this decision just doesn’t make a ton of sense.

Next up, 24: Legacy’s Anna Diop has been cast as Starfire in Warner Bros’ Titans series, slated to air on DC’s upcoming digital service. Some folks are saying they should’ve cast a Latina, but she’s gonna either be painted or CGied in orange, so it’s not like it’s gonna matter at the end of the day. Personally, if they wanted authenticity, I think they should’ve cast an actual orange alien princess. Right now there are just too many unknowns for me to get excited about this. I mean, DC announced the digital service without a lot of information. What’s gonna be on it? What will it cost? How much of the DC library will be available to be housed on it? As for Titans, this is the show TNT passed on. Ya know, the home of such illustrious shows as The Librarians and The Last Ship. I mean, they’re basically just about a notch up from what we got in the 90s from Universal’s Action Pack lineup. If Titans couldn’t fit anywhere on that schedule, then it probably just isn’t “ready for primetime” yet.

Speaking of aimless Warner Bros decisions, they announced 2 different Joker movies this week. First up is an origin tale, directed by Todd Phillips of Old School fame, and produced by Martin Scorsese. Hmm, one of those things is not like the other. I mean, why would Scorsese touch something helmed by the dude who gave us Road Trip? And who even WANTS a Joker origin story? First of all, it’s reportedly not even going to be part of the DCEU, so why confuse the audience with a story that won’t even really “count” in the grand scheme of things? Nobody needs a standalone origin of a take on a character they’ll likely never see again. This is just as foolish as Sony’s Don’t-Look-For-Spider-Man-To-Appear Venom movie. Next, the guys behind This Is Us (SO hot right now!) and Crazy, Stupid, Love are working on a Bonnie & Clyde-style Joker and Harley film, with Jared Leto and Margot Robbie reprising their roles from Suicide Squad. Since this would sort of negate the empowerment that Harley gained by the end of Squad, it’s believed that this actually means that the planned Gotham City Sirens film, also slated to star Robbie, is now dead. Honestly, I could do without either of these movies. I found Leto’s take on Joker to be…interesting, but Less is More with that character. Plus, I don’t really think the DCEU would be strengthened by this sort of movie. It’s not the world-building they need to be doing right now, as they haven’t even figured out the core of their star characters like Batman and Superman yet.

In TV news, Christopher Sebela’s comic Heartthrob has been optioned as a TV series by Felix Culpa – a production company launched by actress/Elvis’s granddaughter Riley Keough. Now, comics are optioned every day, and the final product never comes to fruition, but I hope this series sees the light of day. I’m actually a big fan of the comic, which is published by Oni Press. Set in the late 70s, it focuses on Callie, who’s received a heart transplant while the process is still in its infancy. Given a new lease on life, but still told she’s basically living on borrowed time, she decides to change her life when she meets Mercer, a charming guy with a shady side. She immediately falls for him, and he teaches her how to be bad, like rob banks and commit other crimes. She gets off on the rush. Pretty soon, however, she realizes that Mercer isn’t real. No, he’s actually the ghost of the guy whose heart is now in Callie. So, it’s a Bonnie & Clyde story where Clyde’s calling the shots from the afterlife. The book is published in “seasons”, so the first 5-issue miniseries wrapped up back in early 2016, while season 2 is hitting stores now. If you’re looking for a new comic not from the Big Two, I highly recommend it.

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In music news, Taylor Swift did a whole social blitz to announce that her next album would be called Reputation, and would be released Nov 10th. On top of that, the first single was released last night, with rumors that the video will premiere at Sunday’s MTV Video Music Awards. Ya know, the same awards hosted my Taylor’s enemy Katy Perry. Yeah, that should be pretty interesting to watch. Anyway, the new song is called “Look What You Made Me Do”, and I’m not too impressed. It lacks a real hook, while the chorus itself is basically spoken. I feel like it has all the ingredients for a great song, but it’s not living up to its full potential. If this is an indicator of what to expect on Reputation, though, I’ll admit I’m curious. It can’t be worse than Perry’s Witness.

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Speaking of Katy Perry, we got the premiere of her video for “Swish Swish”, which was reportedly her diss track against Taylor Swift. After a lot of backtracking and sucking up, though, it seems Katy wants to put that feud behind her. That’s why this horrible video does everything it can to take the bite out of a song that was never really that biting to begin with. I mean, just look at it – Molly Shannon? Terry Crews? Even Nicki Minaj was clearly CGied in, as I’m sure she didn’t wanna be anywhere near this shitshow. The sad thing about the Perry/Swift feud is that Katy bailed on it the minute she realized the Swifties were a more powerful lobby than she had thought. Nobody was feeling her SNL performances, and Witness didn’t exactly fly off the shelves. She realized that she can’t really survive by making enemies, so suddenly she became conciliatory to save her ass. Plus, it’s kinda lame that this blood feud started just because Taylor stole a few of Katy’s dancers for her tour. Anyway, you’ll never get those 6 minutes back. You’re welcome.

I had the pleasure of joining my buddy Zac for his new podcast, The Zac Shipley Show. He’s treating these first few episodes as pilots for ideas he’s wanted to try, so our ep was called Streaming Pile, where we talked about the worst things we could find on streaming services. I talked about a Star Trek: Voyager episode where formerly perky pixie Kes returns all middle-aged and bitter. You should check it out, and give a listen to his other episodes while you’re there!

Song of the Week

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I’ve been a big Maren Morris fan since she released “My Church”, and I was really into her next single, “80s Mercedes”. With this song she continues not to disappoint, as I love the groove on this thing. Listen to the bassline. It’s not a dance song, yet you can do a MEAN two-step to it. Hell, I think you could even do a casual version of The Hustle to it. This will definitely go to #1 given time.

Things You Might Have Missed This Week

NBC’s planned reboot of Xena: Warrior Princess – which would’ve featured a full-on lesbian relationship between her and Gabrielle – is officially dead, as they said “it didn’t warrant a reboot”. Man, if only other studios would realize this about some of their projects…

Director James Gunn mentioned in a Q & A session that the 3rd Guardians of the Galaxy film would set up the next 10-20 years of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Yup, you’re just now realizing your own mortality. I’ll give you a minute to deal with that.

Speaking of Gunn, he’s attached to write the pilot for (and possibly direct) a reboot of 70s series Starsky & Hutch. This adaptation is supposed to be similar in tone to CBS’s upcoming S.W.A.T. and not comedic in tone like the 2004 Ben Stiller & Owen Wilson movie.

Surprising every critic in Hollywood, Netflix has renewed the maligned comedy Friends From College for a second season.

Known for controversial publicity stunts, Alamo Drafthouse is reportedly organizing a Clowns Only screening of the new adaptation of Stephen King’s It.

We got a new poster for Thor: Ragnarok. So many colors!

Michael K. Williams has reportedly been cut from the Star Wars Han Solo film, as Ron Howard’s reshoot schedule conflicted with another role that Williams had accepted.

There are, like, 8 different Knight Rider reboot treatments floating around Hollywood, but the latest rumor is that one of those productions is looking at John Cena as Michael Knight, with Kevin Hart as the voice of K.I.T.T. Of course, it would be a comedic adaptation, a la the popular Jump Street franchise.

Super Troopers 2, the sequel to one of the most overrated films I’ve ever seen, will hit theaters April 20th, 2018.

Anne Hathaway and Rebel Wilson will star in Nasty Women, which is a female-led reboot of the Michael Caine/Steve Martin classic Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

Independence Day: Resurgence‘s Jessie T Usher will star in Son of Shaft, with Samuel L. Jackson potentially reprising his role as John Shaft (from the 2000 reboot film), the nephew of the original John Shaft, played by Richard Roundtree, who is also in talks to join the movie. Man, that gave me a headache.

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Always on the cutting edge, here’s Sesame Street’s parody of 2017’s song of the summer, “Despacito”

According to the creators, the Netflix series Stranger Things will most likely end after its fourth season

The actress formerly known as “Andrea Zuckerman”, Gabrielle Carteris, has been re-elected to a 2-year term as the President of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA)

Ryan Gosling will host the season premiere of Saturday Night Live, with musical guest Jay-Z, on Sept 30th.

Jamie Bell is developing a Jumper TV series, based on the 2008 film about teleporters

Suicide Squad 2 is reportedly being fast tracked, but I hope they fast track it right into the garbage. I mean, I enjoyed the first one, but I don’t need a sequel.

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I like Nick Kroll, even though I never saw even a second of Kroll Show. Anyway, he’s got a new animated series about puberty called Big Mouth coming to Netflix and after watching this teaser I am ON BOARD!

We’re a month away from the premiere of Star Trek: Discovery, and it was revealed that it will be rated TV-MA, for Mature Audiences. Now, it doesn’t mean there’ll be tits and phasers, but it does mean they can tell more complex stories. That said, I still feel like they don’t truly understand the source material.

After a scathing essay from his ex-wife went public, accusing him of adultery and other generally shitty behavior to women, Joss Whedon went underground and the fan site, Whedonesque, shut down after 15 years.

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We got a new teaser for Netflix’s The Punisher. With the rate I’m getting through these Marvel shows, I’ll probably get to it just before Evie goes off to Hogwarts.

There was a national solar eclipse this week, which was the first occurrence since 1918. I’m sure you might’ve heard something about it. It was kind of a big deal. Folks were pimping out special cardboard glasses on Craigslist for insane amounts of money, and the American President made news by looking directly into it. It seems that it had a strange effect on different folks. For example, Netflix viewership went down 10% as people went outside to view the phenomenon. Not everyone understood what was going on, bless their hearts. At work, a frantic parent called in and said “Y’all watching the news? You hear about this eclipse? Is it serious?!” Apparently she thought it posed some sort of danger to her kids and the school. No, ma’am. It’s just a beautiful sky ballet. Anyway, the eclipse was EVERYWHERE. I didn’t get to see totality, but it was still nice to stand outside for a bit on a nice day. What am I saying? I hate the outdoors! Well, it was nice to not have to work for a few minutes. You couldn’t escape the Eclipse Fever at the start of the week, so that’s why the Solar Eclipse of 2017 had the West Week Ever.

#80s #Batman #Comics #Country #DC #Indie #Knight Rider #Marvel #Movies #Music #Politics #Pop #Race #Star Trek #Star Wars #Television #West Week Ever #Wrestling

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canaryatlaw · 7 years

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So today was fine. I should probably start by explaining that last night I messed up taking my medication because I was allocating them into their correct boxes and then flipped the pill box over to get the rest of the Saturday ones out without closing the Sunday and Monday ones because I'm a fucking idiot, and it caused all the pills to fall into the sink, and in my frantic race to prevent them from all going down the sink I just swallowed the ones in my hand from the Saturday box and then only later did I realize there were still like, 4 Xanax in there. Whoops. So that causes walking up to be a little harder. I did wake up for my 9 am alarm but reset it to just go to the later service for 10:30, then idk what happened from there (I mean, I'm assuming I fell asleep but idk what else happened) but the next thing I know I'm looking at my phone and it's 11:35. Crap. Service that I'm in the nursery for starts in 55 minutes. Good for me, I'm a boss at this kind of thing and was out the door in 20 minutes, make up and all. I ubered to church and made it right around time, which was still late for me because I'm supposed to be there before the service time, but there was only one baby so far so it was fine. It was a slightly chaotic day, not bad but there was a fair amount of crying. We had 5 babies I think, and there was me and the high school girl who helps me a lot, and then the mom of one of the little boys stayed because her son won't stop crying if she leaves (and we've tried many times) and we've discussed just trying to get her to join the team if she's gonna be here anyway haha and she's mentioned a few times she likes playing with the little girls because she has 3 boys, so I think she could be helpful. The first baby, the little guy I've been taking care of for a while now, was in a bit of a mood today and was kind of on and off crying, so I had him for a while, then he got passed around and he would be good for some amount of time then get set off again, but oh well. Then there was the little chunker who's just the cutest, and is just on the brink of walking, so he's pulling himself up on everything possible (like EVERYTHING) then mostly just stands there, but we got him to take a step or two haha and he can't go much farther than that without losing his balance but he can walk with a little assistance and he's getting there. Then there was the sweet little girl who's been around a lot lately and the high schooler mostly took care of her so I didn't get much interaction with her. Then there was the daughter of one of the ladies on the team who I've talked about before because she's just so darn cute, and she's developed a bit of a pattern where she won't cry upon getting dropped off and will be totally fine for a while, then start crying out of nowhere in the middle of the service and be completely inconsolable. Well, it happened again, but there was more like 20 minutes left in the service so I didn't want to call her parents if it was almost over anyway. So I held her and walked with her and bounced her and we were getting a little success at the end there, she was going in and out of it but I was still grateful when her parents showed up. She's a sweetie pie though, and she's just so cute. If you're keeping track, the 5th baby was the mom's little boy who I didn't interact with much but he's sweet. So pretty much right after the service we had to pack everything up because we were permanently moving out of the space today, since next week is gonna be our service weekend and we won't be having any services, then in June we can be back in our building (huzzah!). I am kind of upset with myself for missing the service though because now it means I'm gonna go 4 weeks without one, since next week we won't get one and then I'll be in NY for the next 3 Sundays. But I mean, there's only so much I can do, especially when there are very real factors like medications at play here. The little chunker baby's parents didn't show up for a while because they were helping elsewhere, so he was just kind of sitting in the corner watching everyone pack away all the toys and the mats and everything haha he was very calm, it was cute. It didn't take too long though, and then everything was loaded in the truck. I'll be glad to be back in our regular space. It wasn't terrible, but being separated from the actual service was just one more hurdle to deal with when it came to contacting parents and we did have several incidents where that became an issue, so it'll be nice to just not have to deal with that anymore. But yeah, we finished up and I headed home, train to bus. I changed and had something to eat, then chilled out for a while trying to figure out if I wanted to make a meal of some sort that I can use as leftovers throughout the week. I know I've said this before but I've been having trouble getting myself to eat meat for some inexplicable reason (like I really have no idea why) and I don't want to force myself of course and I'm not a big veggie person so that kind of limits my options. I don't want to fall into just eating frozen or semi-packaged stuff either though. Idk, I just decided to play it by ear for now. It's not even like, all meat though, it's just when presented with it in certain contexts. For dinner I had a frozen meal made by one of the "healthy" companies and it was like pork in a cherry port sauce with like real cherries and holy crap, it was actually really good. So idk what's going on there, at all. But anyway. I decided I still wanted to bake something and I had wanted to do vanilla pudding again, but I couldn't find the recipe I used last time that didn't use half and half or heavy cream, just milk, and I didn't want to waste too much milk, so I ended up using this random recipe that used ramekins in a shallow pot of boiling water with the lid on to "steam" it which took a little finagling to work correctly but it did end up working, and then after they were chilled I made the "caramel sauce" (the quotes are because it wasn't actual caramel, just sugar water caramelized) and it was really good! The ingredients were very similar to creme brulee, except this just used milk instead of heavy cream, so it wasn't as rich and there was a stronger eggy flavor but it was still really good, so I enjoyed that. Somewhere down the line I turned on the tv and watched the last 3 released episodes of the Handmaid's tale while on my laptop. I didn't realize at first that Hulu was gonna have them coming out on a weekly basis and not just dropping a season at a time like Netflix does, so I'm caught up for now and have to wait for the rest of it. There were a number of interesting things in the latter 3 episodes. I was somewhat taken with how they hold the Handmaids up to be this precious resource, blessed by God for their fertility, but they are very quick to abuse and torture them if they don't fall in line at the first command. I've given a good amount of thought to the passage in the bible they seem to base the whole concept on which I was already familiar with, but it's interesting because they only ever quote a short section of the passage, just that Rachel couldn't have children so she told Jacob to have sex with her maidservant so she could have children through her. And that happened. But they're leaving out that Jacob had another wife whom did have children, and he also had sex with her maidservant to bear more children. Furthermore, later in scripture I believe the wording is God "opened [Rachel's] womb" and she had two children, Benjamin and Joseph. Joseph is of course of technicolor dreamboat fame (and you know, the whole huge bible story attached to that), a large part of which was how he was his father's favorite, because he was Rachel's son, whom Jacob actually loved (Leah and the maidservant, not so much). It's interesting then that the legacy of the Jewish people only survives through Judah, who was Leah's son- the other 11 tribes, 11/12ths of the Jewish people were assimilated into other nationalities. Every modern day Jewish person has heritage through Judah. Idk if there's any real relevance there, I just find it interesting that they have this whole idea and society supposedly based around scripture but it's SO taken out of context it gets to the point where it's absurd. So that's just my feelings on the matter. I was hardcore cheering when Alexis Bledel's character (I don't like using their stupid names) jumped into the car and made a run for it, just because it was so amazing of her and I fully supported it. I was also cheering on our main character when she was honest with the Mexican ambassador at the end of the episode, even knowing that at any moment someone could walk in and hear her saying those things. That took courage. I thought the stuff between her and Nick was interesting, especially the "arranged" tryst, which made me wonder if that's how it was with Jacob and his wives' maidservants. Finally, I was super intrigued by the flashbacks involving the commander and his wife, and just what their lives were like before this. I was kind of shocked to learn the wife was somewhat of a feminist writer who'd actually been arrested for inciting a riot, but they had both bought into this rebellion plot for reasons they don't really go into, and at first it looks like women will be fine under it, but then they're slowly (or not so slowly) edged out, and she has no choice but to play the complacent and steadfast wife to her husband who is now a very important person. It also makes me wonder about the demographic breakdown of their society, lol, like how many people exactly do we have in each caste of society here? How many commanders are there? Do any of them have wives that were actually fertile? Was it any fertile woman who wasn't married to a commander that was taken to be a handmaid? I JUST HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS, lol. But yeah, despite its tendency to be downright harrowing and rather concerning at times, I suppose I am enjoying it on some level, though that's probably not the proper word for it because it isn't really something enjoyable. It's entertaining, I suppose, would be a better statement. But yeah. After I finished that I ended up watching an hour of Seinfeld, just because it was on and that show is hilarious. And that was pretty much it. I'm gonna try to get to work early so I have a little more time to prep for the permanency hearing I have at 10. I feel bad because I was gonna go through the rest of the file on Friday but then I didn't go to work, so I don't want to screw this up but I gotta catch up on what the actual latest happenings in the case are, because I know the history from when the girl was like 13, but she's pushing 21 now so that's different. And I need to talk to the lawyer about my question template as far as how much I need to ask that I already know the answer to just for the sake of getting it on the record. It should be fine though, I'm not that concerned. Hopefully that will go well. It'll be my first appearance in front of this judge, but I mean it's a permanency hearing for a kid who's almost out of the system, so it's not really a big deal. Okay, it's late and I need to get to sleep. Goodnight my loves. Sleep well.

#daily journal #May 2017

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seriouslyhooked · 8 years

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Just a Taste (A CS AU) Part 2/10

AU where Emma and Killian are contestants on the Great American Baking Show and all twelve contestants hail from Storybrooke Maine. In this AU Emma is a book editor by day, while Killian is an architect who just moved to town a few months prior. Expect baked goods, flirtatious interactions, a little drama and a whole lot of fluff with a guaranteed HEA for Captain Swan. Rated M.

Part One Here

A/N: It’s bread week this chapter of Just A Taste! Expect some tension between what Emma and the others want on and off camera (now that the show is a hit), of course some much needed CS fluff, and baked goods. Hope it makes your Monday a little better, and thanks for reading!

Chaos, that was the best descriptor Emma had for the happenings under the big white baking tent right now. The remaining eleven contestants were all trying their best to make heads or tales of their latest challenge as the cameras moved about, but the charge in the room was less based on the competition and more fixated on the response that the show had publicly.

To say it was an overnight hit was an understatement, and in a matter of hours they’d gone from a completely unknown town, to a sensation that millions of people were interested in and rooting for. Craziest of all, was that it had taken only one fifty minute episode for teams to be drawn, and Emma seemed to be winning in the popular contest. Well, her and Killian, who not only were praised for their pieces, but for their chemistry. Emma blushed for what felt like the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours thinking about some of the things people had said.

It was such a bizarre way to start something, being filmed and now watched by millions, but she knew that the attraction simmering between she and Killian was real, and that even if it was terrifying, she wanted to take the risk. After exchanging numbers at the end of the last weekend, Emma and Killian had gotten coffee and even made it out for a real first date made up of dinner and then a nighttime stroll down by the beach to stargaze. It was beautiful and romantic, yet private. It wasn’t something Emma would ever want to share on this show so that the world could know. Those moments were just for her and Killian. Well and her friends, who Emma broke down each element beat for beat with over cocoa the next morning.

As Emma worked to decipher the recipe in front of her though, the going was tough. This week they were working on Gold’s Sinful Cinnamon Swirl and on top of no baking temperature, they were given eight ingredients on their recipe list when only seven were needed. Still Emma pushed through, following her instincts and risking the fall out later. She’d done very well in the first challenge of the day with her ‘sandwich bread’ selection of brown butter infused challah, and if this didn’t go her way, she should still be fine.

“Not exactly the most accessible recipe is it?” Ruby asked as she and Graham made their way with the crew over to Emma for her mid-challenge interview.

“Well look at this,” Emma motioned to the paper, “Half of it’s been redacted like its CIA level secrets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it tastes great when done correctly, but all the pomp and circumstance only adds to the frustration.”

“Amen!” Belle’s call from the other side of the room had Emma laughing before returning to Graham and Ruby.

“So I take it you’re not a fan of the ‘decorative gold shavings’ that the recipe calls for either.” Emma fought hard against an eye roll, not wanting to come off as totally rude and disrespectful on television but she bit her lip before responding.

“Let’s just say that I never use them in my baking. Maybe I’ve been missing something all these years, but I’ve never had any complaints about my lack of fourteen carat adornments on a loaf of bread.”

Both Ruby and Graham laughed and the crew smiled at Emma, signaling that they’d gotten what they needed before letting Emma get back to her work. She finished her bread in the allotted time, though she noticed that yet again, the larger group’s end results looked strikingly different. As they waited for the judges, Killian came up to stand beside her and whispered in her ear, confident that he wouldn’t be heard or caught by the cameras.

“Hardly my idea of an ideal third date.” Emma felt a surge of warmth course through her as she felt his breath against her ear and she smiled before looking at him and whispering in kind.

“Our third date is just an afternoon doing something we are now contractually obligated to participate in? You’re cheeping out a little early don’t you think?” He grinned at that.

“I propose a compromise. Consider this the prequel to the date, and at day’s end, you come with me to escape the madness.” Emma looked back around the frenzy in the tent and couldn’t deny how lovely his plan sounded.

“I could use a little escape.”

Killian appeared as close to forgetting himself as Emma was, and they were moments away from a kiss when they remembered where they were and pulled back. Not that Emma could fault herself for wanting one from him. She knew how he kissed now, and she was quickly becoming addicted to it. Still, they’d agreed on that night under the stars that they while the show was filming, they’d have a separation of their new relationship and the bake off. If going without a kiss for a few more hours meant less of the crazy public speculation, she was okay with that. Besides, the anticipation brewed it’s own special brand of excitement.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret called and waved her over to her and Belle, looking like she had something incredibly important to tell her, though with Mary Margaret it was always hard to tell for she was always so excitable. Emma looked to Killian who seemed to understand and gave her a small smile.

“Go on love. I really should go bother David anyways.” Emma smiled and moved to her friends, standing between Belle and Mary Margaret who quickly regaled her with some of the challenge drama she had missed.

“Guys, is that an empty plate?” Emma asked, only just noticing it.

“Someone put paprika on Archie’s table instead of cinnamon.” Instantly Emma knew that the only person horrible enough to do something like that was Catherine, but she wondered aloud why the woman would target someone as kind as Archie.

“Last week he went up to her and told her if she ever wanted to talk, his office was always open. He thought that her outbursts might have something to do with a past trauma.”

Emma shook her head at Belle’s words. So the man had the audacity to be kind and Catherine’s response was sabotage. True, paprika and cinnamon were different colors, and a more experienced baker than Archie would have known that, but the man wasn’t slated to win this. He had a few weeks left at best before this, so why waste the effort?

“Is this a distorted fame thing?” Emma whispered. “Like does she think being the show’s villain will get her something in the long run?” Mary Margaret shrugged as Catherine’s shrill voice pierced through the tent and made it’s way to them.

“I hope they send the Sister home, if only so I don’t have to see those tacky pink numbers anymore.” Emma held Mary Margaret’s hand to keep her friend both calm and assured that what Catherine was saying wasn’t true, but where Emma planned to step forward, it was David who said something.

“Catherine, stop.” The blonde looked inclined to keep going, so David continued. “This has gone on too long, and I’m done. So unless you want a nationally broadcasted breakup, I suggest you keep quiet.”

Emma looked from David to Killian, who seemed shocked but proud of his friend, and in that moment she knew that it was likely Killian who had talked some sense into David.

“Apologize to Mary Margaret.” David said as he looked at her pixie-haired friend who was blushing under the intent gaze of the man she’d so long liked from afar.

“I don’t think that- oh fine. I’m sorry.” It was less than sincere but Mary Margaret nodded and turned back to Emma and Belle.

“I know it’s probably not the right time to say so, but I think he’s sweet on you.” Both Mary Margaret and Emma held back laughter at Belle’s singsong way of saying that last part, but Emma noticed Mary Margaret’s eyes glance back to David who offered her a small smile.

“Do you think they’re really over?” Mary Margaret asked, the hope in her voice so obvious. Again Emma took her hand and nodded.

“David is a good guy, a better guy than Catherine deserves by a long shot, so yeah I think now he sees it, and now it’s over.” Belle took Mary Margaret’s other hand in friendly solitude, but the moment was broken when they heard Liam’s voice.

“Did you get that? Perfect.” Emma whipped her eyes to where he stood, entreating a camera crew to film them and now the eye roll she’d been holding at bay came through, causing Liam to laugh. “Even better, make sure we keep that.”

“If only we could have the cooking show without the show part.” Emma grumbled and her friends agreed readily, pulling the tension from her own body. Oh well, this was what she’d signed up for, and much as she feigned complaint, it was still exciting and definitely felt like an experience worth having. She looked to Killian almost involuntarily and saw him, arms crossed, staring daggers at his brother for the display and more warmth sprang through her. He was being protective over her whether he knew it or not, and the thought that he cared enough made Emma happy.

“Sorry for the hold up, everyone. We had a bit of a delay, but we’re set to go now.”

With Tink’s warning, the judges filed in. Granny looked near wringing the neck of Gold if her death stares were anything to go off of, while Regina looked angry as well even if it was better contained. When the cameras came, one never would have guessed she was upset. They made their way through the breads, and near everyone had some big problem with theirs aside from Tiana and Belle, who both did rather well. When they reached Emma’s though, Regina looked thoughtful.

“The structure of this one is good, let’s see inside. Yes, not too much air, just the right amount of rise and a beautiful swirl of cinnamon.”

“Not nearly enough gold though.” Gold claimed and Belle choked on a laugh, her hand gripping Emma’s arm causing Emma to want to laugh too, but she pursed her lips together, trying to contain her smile.

“The taste is fantastic, but I think there’s a little something extra in here that wasn’t actually in the recipe.” Regina said the words aloud and looked to Gold as if his reaction was something she was particularly interested in.

“Hell it tastes better than the one we just ate in the other tent!” Granny proclaimed, too late retorting “no offense,” to Gold who was near red with anger at this point.

“Doesn’t matter, it didn’t follow the recipe.”

Had any of them followed that redacted mess, really though? Emma thought.

The judges moved on, and though she’d gotten such excellent praise, Emma’s came right in the middle of the pile, much to the annoyance of Granny who kept looking at Emma with apology in her eyes. Emma waved it off discretely, not really caring, for certainly she wasn’t going home this week, but still. Gold clearly had a huge problem with other people succeeding, and the faster they got through this, the sooner she’d be away from the man.

“Emma, a few words?” Liam asked after the rankings had been announced and everyone was waiting to go home. Emma nodded, glad she could get the interview of the day done early.

“Sure.” They set her up outside in the place where they frequented for the shots and Liam dove straight in.

“You’ve been doing really well so far in the competition, Emma, any reason you think that is?” Emma smiled.

“I’ve been practicing at home during the week, but honestly, I’m just having fun. Thinking too much can really mess up a bake quickly.”

“How did you feel about your ranking just now?” Emma shrugged, again, not wanting to create waves here.

“I’m still learning the rules, and while I didn’t think adding an extra ingredient was a problem before, I can see that it might be if the aim of the exercise was to exactly recreate Gold’s recipe.” There, that sounded diplomatic enough.

“Do you think yours was better?” Emma laughed at that.

“I didn’t have his, but it wouldn’t really matter if it was. He has a baking empire and years of experience on me. I’m not silly enough to think that an amateur baker would know more about this than a professional.”

“You’re close with many of the people here, having known them quite a while, but you’ve also shown the most kindness to the town’s newest citizen.” Emma nodded, waiting for a question, but she didn’t get one.

“I think that one of the best parts of Storybrooke is that even though it’s small and might be insignificant from a global perspective, it has heart. This is a place where neighbors care and we look out for each other. Killian is a good person, and the town sees that.”

“But do you see that?” Liam prodded.

“Do I see that Killian is a good guy? Of course I do. I wouldn’t speak so highly of someone I didn’t actually care for.” Liam grinned.

“So are the fans correct in thinking that there could be something more between the two of you?”

“Look, Liam. I’m not talking about this. If you want to talk about baking or my feelings on a challenge that’s one thing. For now, I’ll just say that it’s exciting that people are connecting with our town and our experience here, but that all of us are still people, living our lives and wanting a bit of privacy.” With that, Emma removed her mic that they’d attached for her interview and left the area, frustrated that Killian’s brother of all people was causing the issue.

“I’ll bloody kill him.” Killian said as soon as he saw Emma. “Truly, Emma I’m sorry. As soon as he pulled you aside I knew he was going to push about us, but please understand my brother means well. He’s just heard me speak of you and…” Emma looked up at a clearly distressed Killian smiling.

“How long?” His eyes were wide with confusion when Emma asked the question and she longed to kiss that particular look away and replace it with the lust and wonder that seemed to come every time she kissed him in the past.

“I’m sorry love?” The lilt in Killian’s voice was more pronounced from the emotion of the moment.

“How long have you been talking about me?” He went red and ran a hand through his hair.

“Since my first week in town, honestly.” Emma was surprised at the confession but delighted nonetheless.

“Anyone ever tell you that you move pretty slowly for a guy so full of charm and ego?” He laughed at that.

“Don’t let appearances fool you love. I sometimes find myself doubting, and with you, I had to wonder if I was good enough.”

“Are you still wondering?” Emma asked, with the teasing fading from her voice and a longing for the truth remaining.

“I now know that you are entirely too good for me, but I’m too selfish to walk away.”

Emma could see that underneath the statement there was a genuine worry, and that something she didn’t understand was influencing Killian’s thought process. Emma would wager that in his past somewhere there was a reason, but she didn’t want to push. She could wait for him to see that she could be trusted; it was really only their second week of knowing each other after all.

“There it is again. All that charm is liable to get you in trouble, Jones.” He moved closer to her, after a brief glance to check that no one was paying them any mind.

“I like a little trouble now and then, love.”

“You seem like the type who would.” Emma looked at his mouth, wanting to steal that kiss she’d been thinking of all day, but she held back, knowing that even if they didn’t see anyone around, it was still too great a risk. She bit her lower lip so as to hold back and his eyes tracked the motion.

“Fuck my interview. My brother deserves to sweat a little for the stunt he pulled anyways. Let’s get out of here, Swan.” Emma laughed at his enthusiasm and followed him out into the rest of the evening, not sure of what was to come, but excited nonetheless.

……………………………

The next morning’s showstopper round was saddled with an unexpected element – torrential downpours. While the contestants worked through the morning to make their filled breads for the challenge that had been given to them, the droplets splashed down on the tent, causing a loud background noise. It was driving the filming crew mental, which was leaving each of the contestants a little more on edge than they might have been otherwise.

If this was a normal Sunday and rain was falling down, Emma would no doubt still be baking, the soft pitter patter of the rain would be calming, not reason for stress. To ease her own anxiety, Emma pretended that she was at home and let herself fall into the natural rhythm of baking her bread. This was a hobby she’d chosen because of it’s peacefulness and eventual reward, so she let herself sink into familiar routines as a means of avoiding the spectacle around her.

“I’m sorry, Killian, could you say that again? They didn’t get it that take,” Tink said apologetically.

Emma looked over as Killian patiently awaited his mark to explain his creation for the third time. While it must no doubt have been annoying to him, he showed no signs of exasperation.

“It’s a feta and pesto twist loaf, and the secret is in the filling. If you leave too much air, the bread bubbles and bakes irregularly. It needs to be tight, but not left to rise too long.”

“So clearly it’s a walk in the park.” Ruby said, thankfully changing her response so Killian could have a genuine reaction instead of reiterating the joke the writer’s had made.

“I’ve gotten it right once, and tried three times, so hopefully, my record improves with today’s outing.”

“Have you had anyone try it?”

Emma ducked her head to conceal her blush, but no one seemed to be looking her way anyways. Truth was she had been the taste tester and she had been delighted with the bread when she had it last night. Even the next day the bread was decadent, and when heated slightly it had been fantastic. With the bread, and some other home made food that he’d prepared in the hopes that Emma would say yes to a date, Killian and Emma enjoyed an impromptu picnic in one of the smaller parks away from the town center. None of the new tourists who were looking to see the town from television made their way that far from the hum drum of Main Street, and Emma and Killian had a beautiful time and got to see a gorgeous sunset. It was very romantic, and another of those precious private moments she’d come to cherish.

“I have, love, and the reviews were all of the raving variety.”

“Someone would have to be raving mad to try anything you make, Jones.” David’s pun-filled call from across the room had everyone in the tent enjoying a laugh and signaled the end of Killian’s interview.

As time went on, and the bakers got their breads in the oven, the smells that swirled through the tent were strong and mostly pleasant. The contestants were divided pretty evenly between sweet and savory, and now all the aromas blended together into such a heady mess it had Emma on the verge of sneezing, but she held back. The clock was ticking down, and with every moment, she was closer to submitting her final bake of the weekend. She’d taken this week’s inspiration from Oliver Twist, and though it was kind of underwhelming, she was still proud that she’d even managed a book themed bread when it wasn’t exactly a medium that leant itself to design.

Shaped in an ‘O’ for the obvious reason, Emma’s ‘I want s’more’ bread was a graham cracker white base, filled with chocolate and a marshmallow fluff. Each piece could be torn off, almost like a monkey bread, which Mary Margaret had made, but instead of glazing it entirely, Emma carefully drizzled some melted chocolate in a purposeful design. It was a lot to do in the little time she had for the challenge, but as the bell rang and the bake ended, Emma finished, pleased with the end result.

Unlike the day before, the judges managed to make their appearance in a timely fashion, and the energy that came with that was notably easier, at least until they tried the first bread. It was Ella’s, and though Emma hadn’t paid much attention to it before, she noted that the judges seemed to dislike even the smell of the loaf she’d created.

“Remind me again what the flavor mix was,” Regina prompted kindly.

“It’s a buffalo chicken and blue cheese loaf,” Ella said, now shy and unsure of herself.

“I wouldn’t eat it if I were you two, for one reason alone. This blue cheese has gone bad, and anyone with a nose can smell that. Honestly the fact that no one has fainted from how ghastly this is all day is a miracle.”

Gold’s words were cruel and Ella stood there in shock, holding her abdomen where a baby that was nearly five months along resided. She’d come on the show knowing she was pregnant, but wanting to be a part of the process because her sons were so excited about the town getting a TV show. At that moment Granny stepped in to save the day.

“Ella, I think we might actually take this as good news, honey. There’s an old wives tale that says some mothers lose all sense of smell when pregnant with a girl.” Gone were the tears from Gold’s cutting reply, and now there was a hopeful smile.

“You think so Granny?”

“Only time, and a doctor’s visit will tell dear. Until then, avoid baking with cheese.”

Ella laughed and the judges moved on, one by one down the line breaking down each bake with care until they reached Robin’s. Emma knew the man as a single Dad with a big heart and a smile for anyone. He was easy going, charming, but not over the top, and genuinely kind. That he was also handsome didn’t hurt matters, and Emma watched as Regina noticed. Never had the woman allowed herself to seem off balance, yet when Robin spoke about his marbled ham and cheese loaf, she was clearly thinking of other things, probably of the not so appropriate variety.

“For the love of God Regina, stop staring at the man and eat your bread.”

There it is. Gold’s comments have finally pushed someone too far, Emma thought to herself. There was fire brimming in Regina’s eyes, a look of embarrassment coupled with anger across her features that in a second were morphed into a wicked smile.

“Can you blame me? I get to look at your grimacing mug all day, I could use a nice break.” Then she winked – Regina Mills, picture of class and decorum and baking royalty winked at Robin in front of all the cameras, and he blushed. Emma was shocked, unable to keep her mouth closed as it hung, slack and disbelieving. Was this happening?

“Perhaps we’ll get some reprieve from romantic speculation. A judge and a contestant together should be so much more intriguing.” Killian whispered to Emma who smiled at him until she heard Tink muttering beside them.

“Not likely, with Liam intent on matching you two up come hell or high water.”

Emma covered her mouth to muffle a laugh. Even though she thought Liam’s methods were lacking, she did like that he was watching out for his brother and seemed to think Emma a good fit for Killian. Despite the feigned arguments and the frustrated moments, Emma knew that Killian had nothing but love for his older brother. Her not passing muster with Liam would be like Killian falling short with Mary Margaret, Ruby and Belle. It might not end things, per se, but it would certainly inflict some damage on a new relationship.

When the ranking was done Emma managed to stay another week, as did her friends, and it was unfortunately Archie who was heading home after sabotage and a lack luster final bake. Meanwhile, Mary Margaret was pronounced the star baker of the weekend, though apparently much to the chagrin of one Mr. Gold.

“I hate to reward something that goes by the name of ‘monkey bread,’ but the flavors were there, and she was consistent all weekend, unlike many of the others.” Gold was giving his post-judging testimonial on one side of the tent, as Regina did hers on the others.

“Miss Blanchard showed a lot of finesse in the first two challenges, and today she brought us on a journey. She told a story about what the bake meant to her and that excitement and feeling is what made her bread so good. As professionals we often forget that, it becomes a job or routine, but without an element of love or hope, a bake cannot be fully actualized. There will always be something missing without passion.”

Emma thought it was interesting that the same thing could be said about people. Sometimes people went through life unfeeling or guarded for whatever reason, as Emma knew, for she had long been such a person herself. But where habit and routine made way for a feeling of contentment, one couldn’t be really happy without hope or belief in something more. Without being on this show Emma may never have realized that, and she thought, not for the first time, how glad she was that she’d been given the chance to do this.

“I’d like nothing more than to steal you away again tonight, love, but I overheard Mary Margaret and Belle mention something about a movie night,” Killian said when the larger group had dispersed.

Emma nodded and informed him that one Sunday a month for the past few years, the friends (including Ruby) made homemade pizza, watched a romantic comedy, and pretended that Monday wasn’t mere hours away. This was the first time she’d ever been somewhat upset that she was going though. Emma would have liked a little time alone with Killian. As if he could read her mind he bent low and whispered in her ear.

“The lovely thing about this town, Emma, is I’m mere minutes away, so if by chance you find yourself missing me tonight… know that I’ll find you, should want me.” She looked at his blue eyes and fell into the intensity there.

“I’ll want you.”

Killian grinned at her admission and moved a lock of hair behind her ear. It sent a spark through Emma, and for a moment she’d forgotten their promise. Someone might have seen that, but in the end, Emma didn’t truly care. All that mattered was that tonight she and Killian would get another one of those private moments, and the promise of it wrapped around her, warm and wonderfully right.

Post-Note: So there you have it. Week two has come and gone, another Storybrooke character bit the baking dust, so to speak, and we had more fluffy CS moments. Hope you guys liked the fluffiness, and as always, I love hearing your feedback and engaging on what you guys would like to see in the story. Hope you all have a great week and are surviving after last night’s episode. Until next week!

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