Incense and Engine Oil

Authors’ Note & Disclaimer: This is a challenge set up on Live Journal by Leogryffin – challenge applicants were assigned characters, paired up and given “appropriate” missions. Although authors applied foeir eir characters, the pairings and missions were assigned by Leo. Andrian was allocated Sirius Black (conveniently still alive!) and Rowan was Sybill Trelawney. This is set once Harry has finished his seventh year at Hogwarts – Dumbledore has decided to pair up some of the staff and young adults to undertake various missions. The pairs were given a week to complete the mission, to the best of their ability.

The challenge concept belongs to Leogryffin, and full details can be seen at the Sorting Hat Livejournal on http://www.livejournal.com/community/_sortinghat_/837.html#cutid1 The story belongs to Rowan and Andrian – we took our challenge and rath ith it. Of course, it’s not really ours at all. Much as we love Sirius and Sybill, they belong to J K Rowling, along with Hogwarts and its other inhabitants, and many other things in this story.

Sirius and Sybill’s mission: Sirius rolled his eyes at Trelawney, who seemed cheerfully oblivious, as he tohe phe parchment. “You’ll take Sybill on your bike to Daytona Beach, Florida, for what is called ‘Bike Week’, and fit in as a biker among the others. We have strong evidence that there will be an attack on the beach this week by a group which is tied to Voldemort, which will no doubt be called a terrorist attack by the Americans. Your task is to do what you can to prevent an attack and find out as much as you can about this group.”


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DAY ONE

She couldn’t deny it. She was terrified. It had been a long time since Sybill Trelawney had ventured into the Great Hall in the presence of other people. She had barely left the tower since that humiliating incident two years ago. Then, she had been surrounded by pointing fingers, scores of witnesses to her disgrace. But Albus had asked for help. Even in her self-imposed exile, Sybill could not remain oblivious to the upheaval both in and out of Hogwarts. Her two star students, recently graduated with O’s in Divination, kept her informed of thents nts that continued to spin around Harry Potter. Of course, Sybill had a deep interest in the boy about whom she had made her three truesost ost horrific prophecies. Most of the time when she read auras or studied star charts, the Sight was a gentle guide, steering her along with a kind hand. But in that trio of blinding moments, something entirely other than her had taken control. She had no recollection of them, even after seeing the captured moments in the Pensieve. It made her more frightened than ever.

Still, she was here. After the flurry of people had subsided from the Hall, some happy with their assignments, some obviously distressed, Albus made his way over to her.

“Sybill, I am aware that you are unused to the outside world, but I am trusting you to keep an eye on Sirius,” he said.

Sybill looked at him vaguely. “Sirius?” she said. “Sirius Black? Isn’t he dead?”

A look of worry crossed the Headmaster’s face. “No, Sybill, we had to tell people that, but he’s alive, remember?”

“Oh yes,” Sybill mused. “I met him. Tall man, intense eyes. A very troubled aura, Albus. I have no trouble believing he is dangerous indeed.”

“He’s not as dangerous as people would have you believe. He is still very young in some ways, and he has been confined for a long time. I’m hoping that you can curb his impetuous behaviour. Maybe the Sorting Hat had that in mind when it placed you together.”

Sybill’s thoughts finally focused on the present. “Did you say that we had to go to America? To look at motorcycles?” She hoped that she ima imagined that part.

“That’s right, I have prepared a cover story for you both. When you meet Sirius this afternoon, he can explain it all. Now I suggest that you return to your tower to pack.”

“Of course.” She wouldn’t let him down. She wouldn’t. Even if she had no idea what she was supposed to do.


~ * ~


The big black Thunderbird rumbled through the sky, coming to a rest in a small field on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Revving the bike once more, Sirius Black finally shut the Triumph down and threw a long leg over. He patted the bike fondly, rubbing a smudge off the bars. Dressed in tight black jeans, high black leather boots, black t-shirt complete with a leather jacket with the ‘Union Jack’, Sirius was definitely a biker. His long hair had been cut to his shoulders and was pulled back in a short ponytail. Leaning back on the seat, he eyed the castle skeptically.

It was simply inconceivable that Albus had put him and Trelawney together on this mission. The cloistered witch didn’t even knhat hat a motorcycle was. How would she ever fit in at a biker’s week? Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he lit one absentmindedly.

Sirius was anxious for this assignment. He had been cooped up too long. First twelve years in Azkaban, then in Grimmauld place. Finally Dumbledore was afraid Sirius was going to do something reckless and had devised the plan.

Growling, Sirius flicked the cigarette to the grass and ground it under his heel, seeing Dumbledore’s face in its place. Thse ose of Sirius being dead had hurt Harry and Remus beyond belief. He would never have agreed to it if he had known Albus wasn’t going to let them in on it. “I couldn’t take the chance,” Albus had explained calmly. “And Harry needed to come to terms with his anger if he was ever going to be able to face Voldemort.”

“Damn you, Albus!” Sirius shouted into the still evening. A bird squawked and fluttered out of a nearby tree.

Dumbledore had placed a portkey on the veil and when Sirius touched it, he had been whisked off to Romania where he hid out with Charlie Weasley. Finally Albus’s plan had been successful and Wormtail had been caught by members of the Aurors. When this information had come to light, the Ministry had pardoned Sirius and he had returned to a very angry Harry and an unforgiving Remus.

He had only been back less than a month, things were just starting to sort themselves out, and now this mission. Not that he minded, he lonto bto be of use, but with Trelawney? Why couldn’t he go with Remus or Harry? And if it had to be a woman, why not that sexy Narcissa or one of the other girls? No one will ever believe that Trelawney is a biker chick.


~ * ~


The suitcase was heavy, but Sybill had never been to America before so she had packed for any eventuality. Besides which, she could hardly go off to a foreign country without at least one crystal ball and some tea. Just as Sybill reached the door to the outside, a gentle hand dropped onto her shoulder.

“Sybill, I came to wish you well.”

“Firenze!” Sybill was struck with guilt. Despite everything, Firenze had become the closest thing she had to a friend, and she was about to leave without saying goodbye. As usual, she was at a loss for words with the centaur, but he never seemed to mind. “I’m scared,” she confessed finally.

“Of course you are. Humans make tiny worlds for themselves, cages in their own lives from which they fear to escape. Courage, Sybill. Every step changes the path, but some steps can change the whole journey. If you have the courage to take this first step, it will transform you.”

Oddly comforted, Sybill watched him return to his chamber, then dragged her suitcase outside. It was later than she had thought, getting on toward night. A roar of sound from across the grounds was suddenly cut off. Sybill trudged toward it. Squinting into the sunset, she could seleanlean, black-clad figure standing beside a gleaming motorcycle.

Still frowning, Sirius looked up to see the source of his irritation walking towards him. She was dressed in her customary multitude of floaty layers, and dragging a vast wheeled case which bumped over the uneven ground. The setting sun reflected off her glasses, making him wince as she gazed vaguely up at him.

“Good evening, Mister Black. I’m pleased to…”

“Damn it woman! Where do you think you are going? And just how are you going to hold onto that oversized pack?”

“But it has wheels, and a pull-out handle....”

Sirius put a hand to his head, shaking it ruefully. “Listen, when you go to a bike rally you take only what fits in this,” - he pointed to the pannier - “and you definitely don’t show up looking like a reject from a side show.”

“I will have you know that these clothes reflect my aura, Mister Black, and I will not be dictated to by a convict.”

Glowering at her, he threw up his hands. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled throwing his leg over the bike. “I suggest you find your own way there, Professor, for I will buggered if you are riding with me looking like that.”

“But... but... Albus said.... are you intending to ride that contraption all the way to America?”

“And you don’t want to make that long trip with a dangerous convict,” Sirius grinned slyly, guessing part of her concern. “Yes, I plan to ride my bike. If I go on this fiasco it will be on this baby.” He caressed the bike tenderly.

“Very well, Mister Black. Needs must when the devil drives, as they say.”

“Do you have your story right?” Sybill shook her head. “Eugene L. Smith at your service,” Sirius said with a disgusted look on his face as he read Albus’s instructions once more.

“Gertrude Fortescue, nee Smith,” Sybill said. She didn’t understand why she needed an alias, but she would go along with the Headmaster’s wishes.

“My sister, my very older sister, recently divorced and in need of a holiday.”

“Not THAT much older.”

“Come now, I remember that you were getting your first gray hair before I was out of training pants,” Sirius said mischievously.

“I’m not surprised with a brat like you around.”

“Well, I suppwe cwe can pull that off. But I am Gene, not Eugene. No biker worth his salt would use the name Eugene. Are we ready then?”

“I suppose so.” Sybill dragged the case over a stubborn bit of grass, then tried to lift it, her drifting skirts hampering her efforts.

“You are not getting on this bike with that,” he reminded her, pointing at the large b“I s“I suppose we can take care of your clothes when we get there.”

“I’m not going without my things. You’re a wizard, you can shrink it,” Sybill told him defiantly. Sighing, Sirius shrank the case until it would fit into the bike pannier. “There is nothing wrong with my clothes,” Sybill continued. She hoisted herself onto the bike behind him, attempting to sit side-saddle. It was tricky trying to hold on without touching Sirius in any way.

“Not if you want to draw attention to yourself. Why don’t you just wear t-shirt saying ‘Attention, would the Death Eaters attending the bike rally please step forward’?” Sirius smiled bemusedly as he felt Sybil squirming around. “Ready?” Without waiting for a reply, he revved the bike, causing it to jerk for.
.

“I... where do I... it’s not SAFE!”

“Straddle it like a broom. Of course it’s not safe,” he said smoothly, “that’s the thrill of it.”

Sybill attempted to adjust her skirts in a way that she could sit astride the bike without exposing her legs.

“Bloody hell, woman! Nobody is going to see you a thousand feet in the air. And as much as you loathe to touch me, you will need to hold onto me until we get in leveled,” he smiled thoughtfully, “unless you want to practice your flying without a net.”

“That’s not the point. I am not having my bare legs pressed up against you. It isn’t decent.”

Sirius chuckled. “What century are you from? If you don’t like thoughought of touching me may I suggest you wear trousers?” he suggested innocently.

“I don’t own any trousers,” Sybill admitted. “Do you have... could I...?”

Sighing deeply, Sirius shut the bike off. He reached into the other pannier, pulling out a pair of tightly rolled blue jeans. “Here, you have five minutes. Then I am going, wir wir without you.” He thrust the jeans into her hands

Sybill underwent a highly contorted few minutes of trying to get the jeans on under skr skirt then remove said skirt from over the top. She took a scarf out of her hair and threaded it through the loops to keep the jeans up. She looked surprisingly cool, Sirius mused, if very awkward.

He grinned devilishly and patted the seat behind him, thoroughly enjoying the fact she was so uneasy around him. “Get comfortable. Even with magic it is still a seven hour journey. And no in-flight movie.”

“What? What’s an in-flight... aaaaaarrrrghhh!”

Sirius’s bark-like laugh filled the air as the bike took off, roaring like a dragon, speeding along the ground. Smoothly they lifted,ing ing gracefully into the evening, with Sybill’s remaining scarf flapping wildly behind them.


~ * ~


After flying through the night, the motorcycle began a descent in the early morning light. Alighting with a small jar, Sirius pulled into a gas station.

“Thank Merlin for that,” grumbled Sybill, almost falling as she clambered from the pillion seat. “You may be able to relieve yourself mid-Atlantic but it’s not something a lady should ever attempt.”

“Didn’t enjoy all that nice blue water, rocking up and down?” Sirius teased swinging a long leg over the bike. He stretched languidly and yawned. Stubble graced his face, making him look even more like the convict Sybill had referto
to

“Be quiet, Mister Black.” Sybill hitched up her borrowed jeans and began to hobble towards the bathrooms.

There were two doors on the side of the station marked men and women. The station was dark and a big sign in the window announced ‘closed’. A balmy breeze blew through Sirius’s hair and he breathed deeply, smelling the salty taste of sea air. “Having problems Gert?” he chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting up.

“Are you INSANE?” Sybill shrieked, forgetting her bladder for a moment. She gestured wildly at the pumps with their no-smoking signs. “Do you want the entire place to explode?”

“What?” Siriskedsked innocently, flicking an ash in the direction of the pumps.

“Fine, Mister Black, if I return and you have been incinerated, so be it.”

When Sybil emerged, she saw Sirius tapping his wand on a machine with a large Pepsi logo on the side.

“Here Gert,” he said handing her a cold green can. “We should be getting to the motel in an hour or so, if I can still read a map.”

Sybill eyed the can dubiously. “What’s this for? What in Merlin’s name is ‘Seven-Up’?”

oda,oda,” Sirius said with a grin popping his can of MT Dew. “Sort of like a cold lemon water.” Sybill struggled with the can for a few moments then handed it to him to open.

Sirius gave her a condescending look. She is going to be a lot of help, he thought. With a flick of the tab he popped open the drink. “Thest tst thing I plan to do is get a nap,” he yawned, handing her the can. “And I suggest you go shopping.”