Two days had passed since the incident in the French wilderness. The summer air at the White Manor in Paris was warm and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos Eira had left behind in the forest.
Eira sat at the head of the long breakfast table in the sunlit dining room, the tall windows open to let in the faint perfume of blooming roses from the garden outside. The morning light spilled across the polished mahogany, glinting off the silver cutlery. A porcelain teacup rested beside her plate, its delicate rim painted in white and gold. She was dressed in a light silk morning robe, hair loosely tied back, her expression one of perfect composure as she cut into a croissant.
A few minutes into her quiet breakfast, the door to the dining room opened without a knock. Emma stepped in, dressed impeccably as always, though her brisk pace and slightly narrowed eyes betrayed that she was carrying news.
Eira glanced up, a brow lifting.
"You're early. That means either someone's dead or someone's made a very large mistake."
Emma didn't smile. She came to stand a respectful distance away before speaking.
"My lady… there's been an incident in Britain. A rather… significant one."
Eira set down her fork, leaning back in her chair. "Go on."
Emma clasped her hands behind her back. "Two days ago, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban."
For a heartbeat, the room seemed to still. Eira tilted her head, her lips curving faintly.
"Sirius Black… ran away from Azkaban?" She let the question hang, as though tasting the absurdity of it. "Impossible. Absolutely impossible. No one escapes from there."
"That's what I thought," Emma replied, "but it's been confirmed. The British Ministry of Magic has been… scrambling. Minister Fudge in particular is doing everything in his power to keep the matter quiet. The news has not yet reached the general public."
Eira's eyebrow arched higher. "Keeping it quiet?" She took a slow sip of her tea, eyes fixed on Emma over the rim of the cup. "So, the great Cornelius Fudge is afraid of a little… embarrassment?"
Emma's tone was crisp, though her gaze flickered with mild irritation toward the British Minister. "More than a little. It's been two days since the escape, and during that time, the Ministry has done everything possible to suppress the news. Fudge believes that admitting to such a breach would be a public humiliation—especially given Black's reputation."
"Mm." Eira set down her cup with a soft clink. "Black was one of the Dark Lord's people, wasn't he?"
Emma nodded. "One of his most notorious supporters. He was convicted for betraying James and Lily Potter—revealing their location to the Dark Lord, which led to their deaths. He also allegedly murdered Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles in broad daylight. The Potters' son, Harry Potter, survived that night and became famous as 'the Boy Who Lived.'" Emma's eyes darkened. "Sirius Black is… quite literally the most feared living prisoner Azkaban ever held."
Eira's lips curved in the faintest smile. "And now he's free."
Emma inclined her head slightly. "Yes. Which is why Fudge discreetly sent a letter to several influential families, including ours, requesting assistance in finding him. He doesn't want the public to know, so he hopes… we can handle it quietly."
Eira gave a small, dry laugh. "Ah, so he wants to use the White family as a private hound to fetch his escaped prisoner. How convenient for him. And what does he offer in return?"
"Nothing explicit," Emma replied. "Only the implication of favor. I imagine he hopes to make us complicit in his cover-up."
"Typical coward," Eira murmured, eyes half-lidded. "He's more concerned with the embarrassment than with the danger. If he announced it publicly, he could have half the Auror force and the public watching for Black's movements. But no, he wants to keep his little secret."
Emma hesitated. "My lady… his caution may not be entirely foolish. If this were to become public knowledge, panic would spread quickly. Sirius Black's name still carries fear even now."
Eira leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. Her voice was calm, but her eyes glinted.
"Good. Let them panic."
Emma blinked. "You… want this revealed?"
"Yes," Eira said simply. "Tell the press. All of them. Whisper it to the British journalists, leak it to the French papers, even the American magical press. I want the entire world to know that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban."
Emma frowned. "Are you certain, my lady? It will cause a frenzy. The Ministry will—"
"—scramble," Eira finished for her. "And Dumbledore will be forced to move his pieces. And since Harry Potter is still in Britain… Sirius Black will undoubtedly go after him. I want to see what they all do. It's been far too dull in France lately. Let's enjoy a little theatre in Britain."
Emma gave a small sigh. "Very well. But I will ensure it is… discreet. The leak will not be traced back to us."
Eira's smile was faint but approving. "Good. The last thing we need is for Fudge to come crying to me about betrayal."
Emma gave a curt nod. "I'll see to it at once."
As she turned to go, Eira's voice stopped her.
"Oh, and Emma."
Emma looked back. "Yes, my lady?"
"I want everything on Sirius Black. Every newspaper article, every Ministry file you can find. His school records. His relationship with the Potters. His history as an Auror—if he was one. The trial transcripts. I want to know everything."
Emma inclined her head. "Understood. I'll have a full dossier prepared."
Eira reached again for her tea, the delicate porcelain warm in her fingers.
"Excellent. Let's see how our dear Britain handles a wolf in their midst."
Emma left the dining room in silence, her heels tapping smartly on the marble floor. The morning sunlight remained soft and golden, the only sound the faint rustle of roses in the garden breeze. Eira took another bite of her croissant, her expression unreadable, but her mind already turning over the game she'd set in motion.