Author's Note: Happy Birthday runbad - You've been asking for this one for a while.

Spring 1976

The large clock in the common room was ringing, tolling out the hour - three o'clock in the morning. Sirius Black lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, listening to each ringing chime as it cried out and the note hummed in the air, ongoing long and low in the night.

What was it about three in the morning that Sirius was drawn to? He was awake more often than not to hear that bell toll.

He absent mindedly drew his thumb and finger tips over the healing scar that striped his sternum the place where he'd dragged a blade in an attempt to free himself of the dark dementor in his chest - Achlys - whose multiple layered voice lingered as long and low as the morning bells but was thrice as chilling.

Remus lay beside him, but to Sirius the warmth of his boyfriend felt an entire lifetime or two apart from him.

The sound of bed springs creaking roused Sirius from a bog of dark thoughts and he looked over to see James Potter sitting up on the edge of his bed, reaching for his glasses as he slid his feet into Gryffindor red and gold trainers. As he watched, James got up and tip-toed toward the dormitory door.

"Going somewhere?" Sirius asked in a low tone.

James froze mid-step, wincing at being caught, and turned 'round. "Padfoot?" he asked into the dark quietly.

"No it's Dumbledore," Sirius said sarcastically. "I've come to catch you in the act of sneaking out of bed. Filch said there's been some sneaky students in this dorm and I've finally caught you at it!" Sirius paused. Then, "Yes of course it's me." The eyeroll was near to audible in his voice.

James was quiet a second, letting all that sink in between them, then said, "Well. Go back to sleep anyway."

Sirius said, "I wasn't asleep."

"Then... just... just go to sleep to begin with, then," James said, and he bent to grab his jacket from the foot of the bed where it was strewn along with a load of dirty quidditch robes and filthy socks. He swung it around his shoulders.

"Forgetting something, aren't you?" Sirius murmured as he was absent-mindedly turning Remus's ring around his finger.

"No," James said pointedly, "I don't think you are well enough healed yet to be going along where I'm going. You're to be resting." James eyed Sirius's chest meaningfully.

"First of all, I'm not letting you, who also ought to be resting, go off on some hair-brained adventure without me. Especially with how close of a call this last one's been..." He pushed himself up from the bed, gritting his teeth to avoid wincing from the tug of tight, freshly re-grown skin over his chest. He walked around to James's nightstand. "And anyway, more importantly perhaps, I actually meant your wand, your a." He held the wand up for James to see.

James patted his jacket and trouser pockets as though he expected the wand Sirius held up to be a trick, and then he flushed. "Give me that," James hissed, grabbing the wand from Sirius's fingers as he dangled it teasingly at James.

Sirius smirked and grabbed his leather jacket and boots. "So where are we going, darling?" he asked.

"To save Harold Minchum."

Sirius grinned. "Excellent."

Hogwarts was dark, the portraits all asleep. Even the Fat Lady only yawned as she swung open for them to climb through the portrait hole. "Sort of nice," Sirius whispered, "Not having to listen to her commentate on our sneaking off for a change."

The boys made their way down the stairs, avoiding trick steps and creaky floorboards. James drew the invisibility cloak from his rucksack that hung 'round his torso and shook it out, motioning for Sirius to duck under it with him. Sirius pressed against James's back, hugging tight as James stooped low to keep them both covered by the shimmering, iridescent cloth. They passed Mrs. Norris undetected, but had a near miss when Peeves the Poltergeist was zipping along the second floor corridor, singing and blowing raspberries tunelessly. When he'd turned a corner, they slipped across to the grand staircase, descending to the Entrance Hall and out the front doors of the castle.

Even without Peter to help, Sirius was mighty accurate with a stone's throw to hit the knot and open the passage under the Whomping Willow.

They raced through the tunnel. Their voices echoed off the damp earthen walls. It occurred to Sirius that once, they might have been talking about what heroes they would be when they saved the Minister,  but now they had a more solemn air to their talk, discussing strategy and possible trouble they could meet when they arrived. "It's the middle of the night, perhaps they won't expect us," Sirius said.

"Only if we move quickly," James said, "or else we may arrive as they're all getting up for breaky."

"Then we'll get the Minister and some bacon," Sirius said with a grin.

The Shrieking Shack was dusty and quiet as they pulled themselves out of the passageway trap door. Sirius looked around nervously as James led the way across the Shack's lawn, toward the line of trees and the fence, slipping through and heading down the pathway to Hogsmeade. There were dementors in the Forbidden Forest, they knew that all too well, and Sirius ran his hand over his chest as he peered through the trees.

"How are we getting into a floo?" Sirius asked.

"The Inn, they'll have loads of floos - one in each room. And most inns provide powder for a charge in the rooms, don't they?" James whispered. They were crouching behind a clump of brush, watching for any signs of movement. "We'll just borrow a pinch off that."

"How d'you reckon we get in a room?" Sirius asked.

James answered, "I'll knick a key from behind the desk while the clerk's trying to get that dog that's snuck in the door and just won't stop barking its bleedin' head off..."

"What dog?" Sirius asked.

James looked at Sirius pointedly.

"Oh!" Sirius said, catching on. His eyes sparkled. "Say no more darling," and with a pop he was gone, replaced by the shaggy black form of Snuffles.

The Inn at Hogsmeade was quiet, most of the windows dark. The lobby had a low glow of a dimmed lantern, the clerk sat behind the desk, feet up and reclined back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he snored rather loudly. James flung the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and slipped through the door, followed by the panting dog, whose tongue lolled about merrily as they snuck through the lobby.

Sirius waited a couple moments for James to have gotten to a safe spot before he threw back his head and let out an almighty howl.

The clerk fell forward, snorting and grunting with surprise as he reacted to the unexpected sound of the dog's shrill howl. "What the bleedin' -- whot are you doin' in 'ere?!" he demanded, seeing the dog, who had dropped into play position, rump in the air, tail wildly wagging. "You ent s'pos'd ta be in 'ere!" And the clerk was up and off his feet, knocking down his tilted chair, and rushing after Snuffles, arms outstretched. Snuffles barked and ran, ducking 'round furniture, slipping under low tables and jumping over couches and chairs, eluding the poor clerk's grasp. "Why -- you --!"

James had to hold his breath to keep from laughing at the high speed chase about the room. He quickly launched across to grab hold of the first key he could reach, slipping it off the nail, and rushing for the stairs to the left of the room. "Sirius!" he hissed - soft enough the clerk didn't hear, but Snuffles sure did, and he bound in a dizzying couple circles, flustering the clerk, who lost track of where he was, and Sirius slipped silently up the steps, transforming midway and ducking under the cloak with James.

The boys scrambled up the stairs as behind them in the lobby, the clerk righted himself and tried at figuring out where that ruddy dog got off to.

The hall on the first floor was quiet and they checked their key and found they were to be in the room behind the third door and they tip-toed past rooms one and two. It was nearing on half four by now and by the time James had unlocked the door and the pair of them had slipped inside room number three, the sky outside the window was turning gold and pink. 

Just as James had suspected, there was a pot of floo powder on the mantel with a little sign next to saying that the powder was charged out by the ounce and the cost would be added to the overall bill for the room at the end of the stay.

"Say, how d'you know where they're keeping the Minister anyway?" Sirius asked.

"Maryrose," James answered. "When we were at Number 12, she overheard Rudolphus Lestrange talking about the Minister being at Malfoy Manor. Abraxas Malfoy has a dungeon concealed under his dining room and that's where they've been keeping him - it's a secret, so none of the Ministry searches would ever have found him." He had taken the pot of powder down and collected a handful from inside, then held it out to Sirius.

Sirius took some. "I wish I had my record player, I'd see to it that we had an excellent soundtrack to wage battle by." His eyes looked wistful.

"Like what?" James asked.

Sirius thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers, eyes wide with enthusiasm. "Immigrant Song. Led Zeppelin. Very loudly."

"Brilliant," James said. "How's it go?"

"AaAaaaa-aah-aaaaaaaaah-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Sirius sang.

James frowned, "Well I dunno that sounds rather a lot like shouting more than singing."

Sirius grinned, "Confuses the death eaters into submission." He handed back the pot of floo powder back. 

James put it back onto the mantel and stared into the hearth. He turned 'round and looked Sirius in the eyes, one palm cupped 'round the bright green powder, the other reached out and clamped onto her shoulder. "Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

James stared at Sirius for a moment, then asked, "We'll be alright... yeah?"

"Of course!" Sirius said, "Probably we'll even end up heroes!"

"Yeah... heroes..." James grinned a crooked smile. He looked down at his trainers for a moment, then back up at Sirius. "I don't reckon there's another person on the earth I'd rather be with to go into something like this... you know? No one else I'd rather have at my back in a duel."

Sirius clapped James on the shoulder right back, reflecting James's body language back to him. He stared into James's eyes - grey meeting dark brown - and he smiled right back. "And I'll always have your back, James. I swear it to you above all else."

James pulled Sirius into a hug.

And when they pulled apart after a longer embrace than was strictly necessary for the exchange, James cleared his throat and diverted his eyes, spinning on his heel to face the hearth. Sirius smirked and he pushed away the whispers of Achlys that threatened to steal away the rays of light that James Potter had put upon his soul with those words...

 James meanwhile had knelt before the hearth, pinched a small bit of the powder and tossed it down the floo powder in the hearth. It flashed up bright green and he hurried into hit. "Malfoy Manor!" he said and when the powder burst into a flame of green, he stuck his head into it, peeking into the Manor's living room.

Sirius lingered there behind him, clutching his wand and pacing one foot to the other.

After a moment, James drew back. "Coast seems clear. The living room's empty, at least, and I couldn't hear any voices." He tossed the rest of his powder in. "See you on the other side," he whispered, and he tumbled through the network.

He rolled out of the hearth onto the floor in the parlor in Malfoy Manor.

It was indeed dark, the windows covered by thick floor to ceiling curtains of a rich, very dark green. The mantel was surrounded by grey stones and over the fireplace hung a portrait of a very stern, very pale man who looked nearly identical to Lucious Mafloy -- his father, Abraxas. Ornate family heirlooms of varying sorts littered the shelves in the room, though the light was so low that James couldn't make out most of them through the dark.

Sirius came through the hearth then, just as James was getting up and dusting himself off. He caught Sirius 'round the torso. "About damn time, Padfoot," he laughed softly, voice a hushed whisper, righting Sirius onto his feet.

"Thanks," Sirius said.

The boys drew their wands and moved slowly into the parlor, Sirius right at James's back as they moved. There was something.. .familiar... about the room that James couldn't quite place in his mind, and he reached back to feel Sirius was still behind him, his hand desperate and relieved upon feeling his mate there still.

The floor was fancy parquet, inlaid with silver, and they moved across the parlor and into the corridor, James used his trainer toe, tapping the floor, listening for any sign that tis was the room the dungeons were under... but of course there was nothing. It wasn't going to ring hollow, after all, the Death Eaters weren't quite that dumb. 

They were in the parlor, trying to discern which way to go next when Sirius suddenly froze in place, grabbing James, and pulling him back into the parlor and sweeping one of the curtains 'round them to conceal themselves. quickly. Sirius held a finger over his mouth. Shh, he was saying, and James obeyed.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor - quiet ones - and then a humming. It was a monotonous little work song that repeated itself over and over as the hummer came closer into the parlor. Sirius peeked 'round the corner of the curtain. It was a house elf - a small thing, couldn't be more than two years old, he reckoned. It was carrying a little wood box and Sirius could smell a healing salve, the medicinal herbs tickling his nose. As he watched, the elf clicked his fingers, lifting a portion of the rug, and there was a trap door.

Sirius looked at James and nodded for James to look 'round the curtain, then looked back to Sirius. Sirius grinned. 

The elf had just gone down the steps and disappeared into the hidden dungeon.

Sirius and James got the invisibility cloak out once more and pulled it 'round James's shoulders and he flipped the hood up as Sirius looped 'round behind him once more and hugged onto his torso. The pair of them moved quietly out from behind the curtain and over to the trap door.

It occurred to James if they went down and the elf came back up before they did, he would close the door and cover it with the rug and the trap door might not open once covered, or he might seal it with magic, or any number of variables. They had to go down, get the Minister - and, James decided then and there, anyone else that they might be holding under there - then get back out immediately without the elf being alerted and flitting off to tell his Master.

Together they slipped down the steps quietly as they could. They could hear the elf talking, and smell the putridness of the dungeon. It reeked like a sewer down below and Sirius was sure he was going to gag and give away their presence sooner than they intended by making the sound, but his nose was being assaulted violently and he could feel the reflex in his throat clenching and closing off his windpipe, trying to keep the scent out of his body. Toxic - that was the only word for the scent. 

"The Minister is needing a fresh bandage and Dobby is goings to sees to the Minister is getting it," said a squeaky voice, "Dobby is not being told by his Master not to give the Minister a bandage, Dobby is not breaking no rules to fix the Minister's wound... But Dobby will still sees to it that his hands is ironed for it sir, I is being bad, bad Dobby. Oooooo bad Dobby!"

There was a groan and a pained hiss and James squinted through the darkness to see Harold Minchum, the British Minister for Magic, dirty and gaunt, chained by one wrist to the wall. He sat on the floor against the stone, the chain keeping his left arm up against the wall at about ear level, legs splayed as though he'd been thrown on to the straw he sat upon, his right hand held in the lap of the elf, who was, as his commentary suggested, changing out a blood-soaked rag wrapped about the Minister's hand.

James was the one who nearly gagged when the rag opened fully to reveal that the Minister was missing one of his fingers and the blood was gushing from the open wound, a bit of bone clearly visible even from where James and Sirius were carefully going down the stairs into the dungeon.

"Bad Dobby, bad Dobby," murmured the elf as he worked at the bandages.

It was then that the smell got to Sirius and he made a retching sound and tripped on the last of the steps that they were descending.

The elf looked up in fear and clicked his fingers quickly, the trap door slamming shut over their heads so that James dove forward and the pair of boys hit the dungeon floor and rolled a few feet in the straw as the door over their heads closed and a sound of magic sealing it off  rang through the dungeon. James lay half visible, the cloak wrapped about his neck and shoulders and Sirius scrambled to his feet, clutching his wand and grabbing James's up from where it had rolled out of his grasp before anyone else could get it. Though there was nobody trying to get it. The elf stood, dumbfounded, staring at them, his hands frozen in place where he was attempting to rewrap Harold Minchum's wound.

"Who is YOU?" the elf exclaimed in surprise, staring at the pair of them with a dropped jaw. "What is you doing here in Dobby's Master's house? You is not supposing to be here!" He looked very, very upset, "And in the dungeon no less. Ohhhh Dobby is going to be in very, very bad, bad trouble, Dobby is going to be punished.... oooohhhh."

Sirius squared his jaw and with the tone he reserved for the house elf of the Noble House of Black, Kreacher, he said imperially, "You won't be in trouble, you haven't broken any rules, after all. Only we have."

"Oh but Dobby's Master says Dobby isn't to be letting anyone into the Dungeon!"

"You didn't let us into the dungeon, though, did you? We didn't ask you if we could come down, so you didn't say yes that we could," Sirius reasoned. He had become something of an expert of subverting the orders of the Master and Mistress over the years while wrangling Kreacher into doing what he wanted Kreacher to do - or, more often, not do (like tattle on him to his parents for something or another).

James got up, hanging the cloak over his arm, glancing nervously up at the sealed door and then back to Sirius and the Minister.

The elf seemed able to accept this explanation and he calmed slightly. "Oh but Dobby is still being in very, very large trouble when the Master is being told that you is here!" he lamented.

"So don't tell him," Sirius said, shrugging, "We'd prefer it if he didn't know, and you'd prefer it if he didn't know --"

"I had to be telling Master if any Aurors come looking for the Minister!" Dobby wailed.

"Well, then that's perfect, isn't it? We're not aurors," Sirius chuckled. "Why tell him anything about us?"

"Ohhh but I is to be telling him if anybody is breaking into the house and --"

"We didn't break in!" Sirius said. "We floo'd in."

"Yeah, honestly your Master's security is stupidly relaxed, considering --" James waved at Minchum, who was only half conscious, groaning with pain as Dobby's hands held his blood-soaked hand.

Dobby considered this, then said, "So you is not aurors and you did not break in and Dobby did not let you into the dungeon..." He seemed to be mentally going over his exact orders and Sirius looked on eagerly - he recognized the searching look on Dobby's face as he reviewed his commands, for he'd seen Kreacher do it many times. When he'd determined the loopholes had been properly made, he turned back to Minchum without another word and resumed his bandaging.

Sirius turned back to James then, satisfied to let the elf wrap the bandages before they attempted to go anywhere, and he lowered his voice, trying to keep Dobby out of the conversation now. "Well that was easy," he murmured, "But how do we get the Minister out of here? Surely he's under a command to alert his Master of any escape attempts and house elves are quick - he can disapparate to tell Malfoy what's on."

James said, "We don't need him to help us in anyway, other than opening the trap door."p the st

Sirius rubbed his chin, thinking. "Well he certainly won't be allowed to open the door for us. That would be letting the prisoner out. Surely they've commanded him against that."

James went over to the steps and walked up them quickly, pressing his palms to the dungeon's trap door and pushing with all his might. It didn't budge. It was magically sealed, after all. He paused a moment, thinking, then held out his hand for his wand, which Sirius still held, and Sirius chucked it up the stairs to James's waiting hand. "Alohamora," James tried, but the trap door wasn't sealed by any standard locking charms, meaning that it wouldn't unlock.

"Shall I try a bombarda?" Sirius asked, eyes glinting with excitement at the thought of the explosive spell.

"No!" James said, "And wake the entire Manor? Gods, Sirius, use your head."

Sirius shrugged.

James tried again at pushing the trap door open, even though he'd already concluded it was useless. "It must open from the outside, or else only by magic," he said.

Sirius looked back 'round at the elf. "Hey elf!"

"What is you asking of Dobby? Oooh Dobby isn't supposed to be taking no orders from nobody not his Master."

"I'm not ordering you anything," Sirius said, shrugging, "And besides, you're supposed to be respectful to wizards wishes and only refuse what your Master has commanded you not to do, isn't that true?"

Dobby's ears lowered. "I is not meaning no disrespect, sir."

"Good," Sirius said, "Very good." He looked up at the trap door. "Interesting door your Master's got here. You know how it works?"

"Of course Dobby knows how it works, but Dobby cannot be showing you how to work the door!" he shook his head. The bandages were nearly fully replaced on Minchum's hand.

"I wasn't asking you to," Sirius replied. Then, he looked to James, a grin on his face, and said quietly between the pair of them alone again, "I've got a plan."

"It doesn't include the bombarda, right?"

"Oh no, no," he chuckled, "No - it's smooth as fuck, Prongs."

James nodded, "Alright. I trust you then. Go on."

Sirius grinned.  "You work on getting the Minister's chain off his wrist and I'll get us out of here." He looked then to the elf as James trotted back down the steps and over to Minchum, the Elf's bulbous eyes on him as he approached. James was very careful to step 'round Dobby and not trod on the elf's toes as he stepped up to Minchum and started inspecting the manacle that held him to the wall. "Oi, Dobby," Sirius said, catching the elf's attention away from James's doings. 

"I know you can't help me to escape - but surely you don't have any commands against disapparating me from here to the parlor upstairs, do you? After all, I'm not the prisoner," Sirius reasoned, "And I'm not asking you to let me leave the house or anything. Just up to the parlor."

Dobby thought about it, then said, "Master hasn't given Dobby no rules about such a thing, you is right," he nodded, grinning. "You is wanting to go into the Parlor?"

"Yeah that's right."

Dobby got up, the Minister's hand fully bandaged, but - to Sirius's relief - the elf left his first aid kit there on the floor at Minchum's knee, and went over to Sirius. His eyes flitted to James, who was working at melting the manacle from Minchum's wrist carefully, but Sirius cleared his throat and the elf looked back at him. "Don't look at James," Sirius commanded. 

This was a command the elf could follow, and he looked away from the boy melting the manacle from the prisoner. After all, Dobby wasn't letting the prisoner out of the chain, so it wasn't really that he wasn't obeying his orders not to let the prisoner out of the chains, he reasoned.

"Dobby is only being commanded not to help let the prisoner free," he muttered, "Dobby is not doing no helping."

"Most unhelpful," Sirius agreed, nodding. He looked at James, and said, "Be ready." James nodded. Sirius turned back to the elf. "Now, disapparate me up to the parlor above us, will you?" 

"Dobby can be doing that, you is not the prisoner so Dobby isn't breaking any of the rules!"

"That's right," Sirius nodded. 

Dobby rushed over and took hold of Sirius's hand and with a click of his fingers and a crack of magic, they were upstairs once again, standing next to the rolled back carpet. Sirius was disturbed to realize he could now hear voices in the kitchen and his heart rate picked up. Their time was officially limited and the danger of the mission was on now. He swallowed back his nerves and wiped his palm against his chest - the elf's hand was sweaty - and he took a deep breath as the elf stared up at him with concern. 

"Dobby's masters are up and Dobby will soon be summoned to the kitchen!"

"But you've forgotten your first aid kit downstairs," Sirius whispered. "You need to go down to fetch it, don't you? You can't be leaving it there." He looked at the spot on the floor where the trap door was meaningfully.

Dobby looked shocked. "Oh you is right, you IS right. You is a most brilliant person."

Sirius grinned. "I know."

"But I can't be letting you in."

"You're not, I'm not going in."

"You is promising?"

"I am," Sirius said and he criss-crossed his heart with his fingertip. "Hope to die," he murmured, finishing the rhyme outloud.

The elf nodded, then clicked his fingers and the trap door opened silently and the elf scrambled down the stairs. Sirius stayed in the parlor, as he promised, and kept watch on the door leading off to the corridor as he hurried back to the mantel and started looking for the Floo powder.

Downstairs, Dobby was collecting his first aid kit as James was finishing releasing the Minister's wrist. James grunted as he pulled Harold Minchum up, the half-conscious Minister let out gasp of pain as he was tugged to his feet and James draped the Minister over his back, gritting his teeth. He'd carried Remus and Sirius like this dozens of times but the Minister was a good deal heavier than either of them were. 

The elf stared up at him as James struggled with the Minister's body. "You is could be doing a weightless charm sir," the elf suggested quietly.

James looked at him. "You're brilliant," he said.

"Dobby is not helping you sir," the elf reminded him.

"Yeah, thanks Dobby for not helping," James said quickly. He aimed his wand, "Gravitus minimus," he whispered, tapping the Minister's shoulder and the weight lessened considerably on his back. He grinned and started for the unguarded stairs as Dobby finished up collecting his first aid things. James paused at the steps. "Hey?"

The elf looked up.

"You're not bad, Dobby. Alright? You're a good elf, whatever they tell you."

Tears glistened in the elf's eyes. "Who is you? Who is you that you is nice to Dobby?"

James shrugged, "I'm not anybody special...  I'm just... me, just James Potter."

"No wizards is ever nice to Dobby... Dobby is thinking you is special, Mr. Potter."

James smiled. "Well. Thanks."

"Dobby is not ever going to be forgetting you was kind to him," he promised.

"Yeah, well, don't tell anybody about it," James commanded, afraid Dobby might tell the Malfoys and it certainly wouldn't do any good to have the Malfoys after him or his family.

"Dobby won't tell nobody ever that you was kind to him, but Dobby won't never, never forget," the elf swore.

"Thanks," James replied and he carried Harold Minchum up out of the dungeon.

Sirius was waiting at the hearth with the floo powder, waving his palms for James to hurry - hurry- hurry - and James ran for the hearth as Sirius threw the powder on, sparking the fireplace bright green and James said, "The inn!" as he stepped through the hearth and disappeared, the Minister on his shoulders. Dobby was just coming up the stairs with his first aid kit as Sirius threw the second handful into the fireplace. Dobby watched as Sirius lay a single finger over his lips - quiet, he was telling the elf, and the elf nodded - and then Sirius, too, said, "The inn!" and stepped through - disappearing.

It was the smoothest mission ever accomplished... and a great many very, very important things happened a great many years later because of it.