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A Patch of Buttercup Flowers


“REY!” James’s voice was full of relief. “SIRIUS! HE’S ALRIGHT, HE’S HERE! OVER HERE!”

Remus had landed rather violently on the ground, in some sort of water that was cool and shallow, pebbles under his cheek. He had his hand wrapped around Tizzy’s tiny hand. His head spun. It was the most turbulent side-along experience he’d ever had, his stomach was still rolling about inside him from the squeeze and the feeling of falling through the air from a somewhat high distance.

There were splashing footsteps, “Remus!” And hands were grabbing onto him, pulling him up and he felt Tizzy’s hand slide out of his own and James’s excitement engulfed him, “Bloody hell, oh bloody hell, thank Merlin! I can’t believe that’s just happened!”

“You lot are INCREDIBLE! I can’t believe I’m OUT! I was going MAD! I couldn’t have taken it much longer! You lot and this bloody BRILLIANT little elf. Tizzy you--” he stopped very suddenly in the middle of his sentence.

Remus pulled away from the bone crushing hug that James was still in the midst of giving him and he saw Sirius, kneeling in the water - a shallow creek. The water ran cold ‘round his knees, soaking the jeans and his trainers. But he didn’t care. His jaw was slack and his eyes filled with tears as he pulled the little elf up, out of the water, into his arms… her body limp.

Remus’s blood turned to ice.

“No.” He said and he ran over, splashing through the water. James stared on, too stunned to react or move. Remus grabbed at Tizzy, pulling her out of Remus’s arms to his own chest, his hands shaking, “Tizzy? Tizzy, wake up.” He looked up at Sirius, “Your father’s snapped my wand. Ennervate her, mate.”

“Rey, she’s --”

“ENNERVATE HER!” Remus shouted.

Sirius licked his lips and reached into his bag, drawing out his wand and gently tapped the elf’s chest. “Ennervate,” he whispered, but nothing happened.

Remus clutched her to himself, “Again!” he begging, though he knew, his throat closing up, “AGAIN! SIRIUS DO IT AGAIN! PLEASE!”

Sirius had tears in his eyes and he obeyed, “Ennervate,” he whispered, his voice cracking on the word, but again nothing happened.

“WAKE HER UP!! WAKE HER UP!

“Rey, she’s gone,” Sirius said.

Remus’s face folded up, creasing and reddening as he ceased breathing in the waves of emotion that were washing over him. Suddenly Tizzy, as tiny as she was, felt like she weighed a hundred stone. He couldn’t hold her up anymore and he tipped forward. Sirius caught them both, the house elf’s body landing in his outstretched arms and Remus turned, stumbling away, climbing up out of the small dip that the creek they’d landed in occupied. They were in a wood, somewhere - he had no idea where. He’d told Tizzy to go anywhere in the world, and she’d selected some place that Remus had never seen before. He fell to his knees.

James ran up the hill. “Rey,” he said thickly, approaching him, “I’m so sorry, mate.”

Remus shook his head, not wanting to hear it.

Below, in the trenches, Sirius hugged the elf to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry.” He felt so guilty. Once again, his friends had been in trouble because of him - his fault - and this time somebody had died.

It would’ve been better if he’d stayed there in Grimmauld Place all the rest of his life, he thought. He’d have deserved it.

Sirius found a small patch of buttercup flowers by the creek and gently laid the elf there among them for a moment, climbing the hill to check on Remus. Remus was on the ground, crying, and James had his hand on his shoulder.

James looked up at Sirius with wide eyes. “She’s definitely --?”

Sirius nodded.




Back at Grimmauld Place, Orion Black cursed loudly. “Expulso!” he shouted, and the park bench where the boys had been sitting and waiting exploded into a dozen pieces that rained about the park, propelled by the anger that had driven the curse. Another screw up, another mistake. Orion Black was frustrated. How was it that a bunch of soddy little children managed to do this to him time and time again?

He turned and stormed back toward Number 12 as the final bits of bench landed on the ground behind him, falling from the sky into which they’d been blasted.

On the stoop of Number 12, Regulus stood, his eyes wide with fear. Orion climbed the granite stairs, pushing past his youngest son, who stood, staring across the square at the spot where Sirius and his mates had disappeared with their tiny house elf.

“Dad,” Regulus asked, running after his father, “That elf -- her eyes -- when she disapparated…”

“What about it?” Orion growled, not looking at Regulus.

“Well you shouted the killing curse,” Regulus said, “She didn’t -- die -- did she?”

Orion’s response chilled Regulus to the spine. “Not fast enough.”

Regulus stared up at his father, his mouth gaping open. “But… but that elf didn’t do anything wrong… why --?”

“I could’ve had Lupin’s kid if it wasn’t for that bloody elf! Potter’s! They were here, the little blighters were right here, in my bloody grasp - and -- that DAMN house elf…” Orion shouted and he punched the wall directly between two of the large-eared elf heads mounted onto the wall of the stairwell.

So much anger laced his voice that Regulus cowered back.

“Should’ve cast it sooner,” he murmured, “Idiot I am, taunting the ruddy werewolf pup.” He groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Walburga came from the parlor, pale, having watched the whole thing from the window. She looked at Orion and touched his back softly.

“Should’ve started with the killing curse on all three of them,” Orion muttered thickly, “Should’ve started with it a month ago.”

Walburga’s voice was very, very quiet, as though she were whispering the words, “He’s your blood.”

Orion whispered back, “That doesn’t matter. That only means it’s mine to take away. He’s a blood traitor.”

Regulus shook. “But the elf did nothing wrong.”

Orion looked back down at Regulus as though only seeing him for the first time.

“And she’s the one that’s dead. Not the traitor, not the werewolf.. But.. but the elf…” Regulus was begging to understand.

Orion stared down at him. “It’s just an elf,” he said, shrugging, “A hundred more where that one came from.”

Regulus felt quite sick, and he nodded stiffly, and hurried up the stairs to his room.




“It’s getting dark,” Sirius’s voice was quiet.

“Yeah,” James said lowly.

They’d been sitting there on the floor of the forest for some time now, allowing Remus to recover from the shock of Tizzy’s death. He’d shook, crying uncontrollably until he’d fallen asleep, his face pressed against Sirius’s chest. Sirius had his arm ‘round Remus, his hand splayed on his back, supporting him.

“Any idea where we are?” Sirius asked.

James got up and looked around. “None.”

Sirius took a deep breath and ran his hand along Remus’s shoulder gently. “Rey,” he said, “Rey, wake up.”

Remus stirred.

“We gotta figure out where we are, Rey, we gotta get out of here,” Sirius explained, “It’s getting dark.”

Remus’s body felt heavy as he nodded, pulling away from Sirius’s chest, his throat thick with the tears he’d shed.

James had wandered a bit away and now came back through the trees, “We’re at the top of a hill, a small one, there’s a village just a little bit away. Real small town, I didn’t recognize it, but we could probably figure out where we’re at from there,” he suggested. “It’s a start, at least.”

Sirius nodded.

“Where is Tizzy?” Remus asked, “Her body, I mean?” He looked up at them, his eyes wide and wet.

Sirius got up and showed Remus back to the little patch of flowers by the side of the creek, where he’d laid Tizzy’s body and Remus stood at the top of the hill, staring down at the little elf, lying there among the buttercups, her wide eyes closed and flapping ears still, and Remus nodded. It seemed right. “Help me build a little grave with the stones around her,” he said, and he slid down the hill to the creek and started gatherings rocks from the bed of it.

Together, the three boys dug up rocks and stones and gathered pebbles and fit them all together, until they’d build a mount around the house elf, closing her off from the elements on her little bed of flowers. Remus looked around, “Somebody write her name on the stone with your wand.”

Sirius held his up and etched Tizzy across one of the stones, then added, She saved our lives, beneath it, a little epitaph.

They stood there for a moment, staring at the mount of stones, at the name etched onto them.

Finally, Sirius whispered, “We need to go.”

James looked up at the sun’s dying rays and nodded.

Remus turned as they guided him away, tears falling over his eyes once again, and they started walking for the village that James had seen. Sirius kept his wand in his left hand, his right wrapped tightly around Remus’s.

“I miss her,” Remus choked as they walked.

“I know, Rey,” said Sirius thickly.

“I miss her and I miss my mum,” Remus added.

Sirius nodded. James hung his head, watching his trainers as he walked.

“Everybody’s dying,” Remus said thickly. “I’m losing everybody. I’m going to be alone.”

“Shh, stop that,” whispered Sirius, “We’re here. You aren’t alone.”

“What’s my dad going to do?” Remus choked.

James’s voice was apologetic, “There’s… there’s other elves,” he said.

Remus didn’t know how to react to that. He couldn’t imagine replacing Tizzy.

They walked for what felt like hours, but was really maybe forty minutes. The sun fully set and the moon came out and though it was waxing, it wasn’t a full moon. But it did weaken Remus and made his scars itch and he rubbed at his arms with his fingers desperately, wishing he had aconite, but knowing no amount of the leaves would tame the pain he felt inside and in a way the pain on the skin sort of helped, giving him some physical representation of the things his mind was feeling.

The village was small indeed and it took them some time to find some place that was open. It was a small pub with glowing lights in the window. “Wait here, I’ll find out where we’re at,” Sirius suggested, and he let go of Remus’s hand for the first time, leaving him with James in the street.

Inside, it was hot and there were people everywhere, shouting and laughing and there was a small band in the corner playing with a washboard and some spoons, an old drinking song. The people were muggles and the pub smelled of beer and whiskey. Sirius walked to the counter and he leaned against it and the bartender looked up and saw him and surprise registered on his face, “Lit’le young ter be in here,” he grumbled, glaring at Sirius, “What’re yeh lookin’ fer, kid?”

“What town is this, sir?” Sirius asked.

Barman’s eyes were even more surprised at that, and he stared at Sirius, blinking a moment, then narrowed his eyes, “What do yer mean what town’s it? How’ve yeh come ter be here if yer don’t even know where yeh are?” He looked most suspicious.

Sirius thought for a moment, then took a deep breath and whispered, “Falsum Fidelus,” and waved his wand.

The barman’s look of suspicion melted away and he stood upright, wiping the bar counter with his wand. “I’m sorry,” he said after a pause. He cleared his throat, “‘Tis Ottery St. Catchpole yeh’ve come ter.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said, and he turned and hurried back out of the bar, feeling people looking at him from their tables, wondering where he’d come from and why there was a teenage boy in the bar, waving a stick about. But he didn’t dare put his wand away even now, so he just hurried out of the pub and into the street, where James and Remus were still standing, waiting for him to return.

James looked up at Sirius as he came out of the pub.

Remus was staring numbly at the ground, lost in his own thoughts.

“It’s Ottery St. Catchpole,” Sirius said. “The name sounds familiar, I’m sure I’ve heard it at some point before. Where’ve I heard of it from?”

“Bilius Weasley,” said Remus, his eyes still unfocused.

“Yeah,” James nodded, “His brother lives here… uh, Arthur, I think. He worked for my Dad at the ministry for time.”

“Any idea where?” Sirius asked, latching on to any hope of any person that might be able to help them.

“Southwest,” Remus said. “He’s south of the village. Last year, a giant came through here, it was in the Prophet and Bilius showed us in the picture… The giant was headed south, and there was a little hill that his brother lived just over… It was to the southwest of the village.” He could still see the scene in his mind, still see the newspaper article and the photo of the retreating back of the giant, head and shoulders taller than the tallest rooftops of the village.

“I think we should go over and - and knock on their door.” Sirius looked ‘round at James and Remus, “It’s not much of a plan, but it’s safer than wandering about the countryside…”

James nodded, “Arthur Weasley will know how to get in touch with my Dad. I think the Gideon and Fabian Prewett are Mrs. Weasley’s brothers. They’re Aurors in Moody’s office and in the resistance.”

“Alright,” Sirius nodded, “C’mon. Let’s go.”