Undesirable #1

Sirius Black: 42,000 Galleons. Extremely Dangerous. Whereabouts Unknown.

Author's Note: The original inspiration from this story came from a series of "What if Voldemort Won?" posters on Pinterest. I'll be including them at the start of each chapter. In this photo's case, and probably with the others, I have played with the contrast, shadows, etc. but all credit for the photos should go to their original creator.

One Week After the Battle of Hogwarts; Number 12 Grimmauld Place
"This is bad. This is bad. This is really, really, bad." Sirius paced in front of the kitchen fireplace. Years of determined cleaning had finally put a bit of cheer into the once grim house, but new scars and peculiarities had hurried in to replace the old ones. Like the rut Sirius had worn into the kitchen floor with his pacing, for instance. Or the collection of wanted posters he'd hung up over the old family portraits. The irony of a bounty being placed on his head by two governments for the crime of being on the other one's side had not escaped him. Or, on the topic of scars, even the splintered door and broken furniture that had been the perhaps inevitable product of a full moon, a werewolf, and a complete lack of either wolfsbane or sufficient Animagi.
Sirius stopped that line of thought before it could go any further. The events of that full moon had been nearly a month ago, back when it had been just the three of them holed up in here - well, four if you counted dear old Mum's shrieking portrait - but it had been - well . . .
Tonks would be fine, he told himself firmly. And she's more upset about missing the battle than she is about the scars. She'll probably be able to hide those anyways, once she's up to using her powers again.
Remus, on the other hand . . .
He turned his mind firmly back to the problem at hand. It, at least, was something he could hex. He resumed pacing. "Twelve of them! Twelve, at all hours!" He paused. "Although I suppose it could be viewed as a compliment . . . " he mused.
"What now?" Remus asked wearily from the doorway. His face was even more haggard and gaunt than it normally was before the full moon. He looked rather like he'd just been released from Azkaban. Or perhaps, from the haunted look in his eyes, that he'd not yet left. Come to think of it, did any prisoner ever really leave? Or did it come with them, filling their dreams, stealing every quiet moment, destroying what little they managed to build for themselves afterwards?
He shook himself. He paused a moment, waiting for Remus to make a comment about dogs, but he just stood there, waiting for the next piece of their doom to fall.
"Death Eaters," Sirius said in defeat. He could avoid the subject for no longer. "Twelve of them, camped outside our door. They change out every few hours. Have for about a day now." Something occurred to him. "Have you really not looked outside in all in that time?"
Remus shrugged listlessly. "I've been busy trying to manage those first years."
"Job and a half that," Sirius muttered. "And on a similar note, we're almost out of food, which is inconvenient, considering we're now under siege."
"How long can we hold out without more?"
"With six first years in the house?" He sighed. Far too many for them to easily take care of. Far too few when he considered how many had been left behind to face Voldemort's wrath.
And how many had been lying silent in the halls.
"Tonks hasn't been eating much," Lupin pointed out.
"Neither have you," Sirius said shrewdly.
Lupin looked away. "I'm not hungry."
Sirius snorted. "Yeah. Sure." He ran his hand through his hair. "Look on the bright side. At least we know they can't come in now. The Fidelius charm must still be holding."
"Yeah," Lupin said quietly. Fidelius charms were still a sore subject. "Any word from Harry?"
"He's alive," Sirius said bleakly. He looked to where he'd put the enchanted mirror on the kitchen table. He carried it with him everywhere now. It was the only method of communication they had that couldn't be intercepted. "He said he'd try and talk longer tonight. They were being chased from the sound of it." Cold fear still licked through his veins at the thought of it. Harry was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do to help. What if he called Harry's voice into the mirror tonight and there was no answer?
"Speaking of talking - "
Lupin raised an eyebrow. Sirius was pleased with himself. That was the best reaction he'd gotten out of him in a month. "Have you talked to Tonks?"
"Sirius, if you had turned into a raging beast and nearly killed the woman you loved, would you want to talk to her?"
"No," Sirius admitted, "but I'm not a masochist. Just go in there, let her yell at you, and you'll both get it out your system. Things can get back to normal around here." Well, harboring muggleborn first years in a house besieged by Death Eaters while they slowly ran out of food and worried about friends who hadn't managed to make it to a safe house normal.
Lupin finally slumped into a chair. "I did talk to her," he admitted. "Right before the battle."
"And?" Sirius demanded. Lupin didn't answer. "Fine. I'll ask Tonks. I should probably bring her some lunch anyway. Speaking of which, fix something up for the midgets, would you?"
Lupin didn't rise to his bait. He just nodded dully.
"Cheer up, mate," Sirius said quietly. "Things could be worse."
"How?" Lupin asked hopelessly.
"Harry could be dead. We could be dead."
Lupin looked like he thought he might prefer to be dead. Sirius hurried on. "Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Mini Me's - "
"Beg pardon?"
Sirius waved a hand. "Feed and George. Point is, we've lost some good people - "
"Half the DA. More than half the Order."
"Mad-Eye might have made it out."
"Kingsley didn't. And neither did the rest of the Weasleys."
"We're looking at the bright side," Sirius reminded him. He plunged ahead. "Tonks is walking now."
Lupin snorted. "If that's what your idea of optimism is, things have gotten truly bad."
"At least you didn't bite her." Clawed, yes. Bite, no.
"Because she managed to hold me off. That time. Because you recovered from your best friend throwing you against a wall in time to pull me off her. That time. What about this time, Sirius? I'm locked in the house with an injured auror, an aging Animagus - "
"Hey!"
"And six children! Children, Sirius! Can you honestly tell me you can protect all of them come moonrise?"
"We've still got three days," Sirius said. "I'll think of something."
The desperation hadn't left Lupin's eyes, but he tried to pretend he believed him. "Right."
"I will," Sirius insisted. "Now go get those first years some lunch before they mob the kitchen."
Remus did as he was ordered while Sirius loaded a slightly stale sandwich onto a tray. Maybe Tonks could give him some answers about her conversation with Lupin.
That wouldn't answer the thornier question though.
What by all the dementors were they going to do?