The Flame That Guides Us Home

Author: Slytherstein and Lehrain

Rating: T (violence, language, slightly suggestive material)

Spoilers: All

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Main Character(s): James Potter, Severus Snape, Lily Evans, Regulus Black, Sirius Black and Bellatrix Black

Secondary Character(s): Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Barty Crouch, Jr., Narcissa Black, and Emmeline Vance

Ship(s): JamesxLily, SeverusxLily, RodolphusxBellatrix, BartyxBellatrix, LuciusxNarcissa, RabastanxAndromeda, RegulusxNatalia, SiriusxEmmeline, and FrankxAlice

Summary: Set in the Marauder's 6th year, tensions are high with the increasing threat of Death Eaters. When a heated competition between snakes and lions goes horribly awry, these divided groups find themselves stuck in Medieval Europe during the witch trials, and only through working together can they ever hope to return home. But will they be able to look past their own prejudices?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.

A/N: This is a collabed fic, written by myself and my sister, Lehrain.

The Flame That Guides Us Home

Chapter I

"Unwelcome Yearnings"

…

"We know what we are, but know not what we may be."

~ William Shakespeare

…

In the dense, dark forest, whispers floated through the treetops, carried by the wind here and there, before dispersing into nothingness. A single, flickering bonfire was visible through the foliage, the only light save the dim illumination of the crescent moon overhead. Smoke wafted through the air, but even this was blocked by the encirclement of black, hooded figures surrounding the fire.

They all stood perfectly still, as if transfixed in place. Not one movement could be spotted across the group. Except one.

One single, lone figure, dressed in the same dark apparel, paced rhythmically, in a fluid, serpentine motion, around the flames, in front of the figures, occasionally meeting the gazes of those who looked upon him. One arm was at his side, but the other long, slender appendage was held up, at the level of his glowing, red eyes, with a knife enclosed in his bony grasp.

"Welcome, my friends."

His voice was like a hiss when he finished the word "friends", yet calm and composed, as if he had all the answers to life and death contained within the recesses of his mind, just behind that slippery tongue. The tongue he used to speak to them so adoringly, as if no other person in the world could compare to their importance. To their elevated and noble ancestry. As if it was a privilege to even stand in their presence.

"I am pleased to see so many of you have come," the old sorcerer continued, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. "Believe me when I say that I could not have asked for any more worthy to join my cause, my family, than these faces I see before me tonight."

Pride swelled within all their chests at this man's praise. They were prepared. Prepared to do what was necessary. Prepared to do all that this man would come to ask of them.

"If you would all please, each of you, extend your left arm to me," he requested, the smile never leaving his expression, the kind tone perfectly in place beneath every word he poured out of his mouth.

"Why the left, my lord?" one of the figures, a man with long, dark hair, dared to ask.

The otherwise pleasant countenance upon the elder's face shifted, his crimson eyes flashing with sudden intensity, as they immediately came to rest upon this insolent fool. The fool who had dared to even question him on such a matter.

"Do not question me!" his voice rose to match his forceful gaze. "It has to be the left! Now, present to me your arm!"

At this outburst of their leader's, another, with an eternally composed façade, cleared his throat, shifting his silver eyes to rest upon the man who had spoken against the irate figure in front of them, before his voice came out in a smooth drawl, "He's quite right, there's no need to draw such attention to such a trivial matter. What does it matter if it's the left or the right arm? Merely do as he says."

"That's right!" a woman spoke out, her voice a bit more cutting than the man standing beside her, her dark eyes narrowed in a glare. "Never question the Dark Lord! You will do as he says! If he tells you to jump from a cliff, you shut your ungrateful mouth and jump! Now hold out your arm!"

The snakelike man gazed upon those who had come to follow him, a pleased glint now in his eyes as he listened to their exchange. Such devotion. Such loyalty. Yes, he would come to have much use for these qualities. He only looked more satisfied when everyone standing in the circle proceeded to extend their left arms, dutifully, the pale skin exposed and glimmering translucent in the glow of the fire.

He then proceeded forward, toward the man standing closest to him, who stared at him calmly, expectantly, and did not so much as flinch when the Dark Lord lowered the knife and began carving into the flesh of his forearm. The cuts were deep, but precise, artistic. As the ancient wizard moved down the line, making his way between each of them, carving his signature, his mark, into each of their arms, branding them as one of his own, the excitement shined from his expression, the glimmer taking hold of his red eyes.

When he stepped back, the blade dripping with the sanguine liquid, he then let it fall to the ground, with a loud clatter, as he then drew up his other arm, which held a long, ivory wand. With one single flick of his wrist, each of the marks embedded in the arms of those before him erupted in black flames, binding it with dark magic, and binding them to him.

The Dark Lord raised both arms, his smile proud and enthusiastic, eager, elated, and he proceeded to address them as a whole:

"My friends. You are now…Death Eaters."

A loud whistle broke through the quaint countryside, as a vibrant red locomotive raced across the tracks, the metallic clink of the wheels reverberating through the interior compartments. In one particular compartment, there sat four troublemakers, engaged in light conversation with each other. One, with light brown hair, sat beside the window, a book in a hand, though he had long abandoned it at this point. It was almost a fruitless effort trying to catch up on any reading when he was in this specific company.

Just beside him, with an eager expression written all over his ratty face, a somewhat portly boy with sandy blonde hair and bright, shining blue eyes leaned forward, ever so enthusiastically, as if he just couldn't get enough of what his friends had to say. He drank it all in with an overwhelming sense of pride and belonging, savoring every nibble.

Across from the little fellow, sprawled out comfortably on the seat, his back against the armrest, a guy with black hair wore a smug expression. A few stray strands fell into his dark eyes, which were directed at the talker next to him, whose lap he had claimed as a resting place for his outstretched legs.

This fourth and final occupant reclined against the window sill, one arm propped up and his chin leaning lazily on his fist. The other hand was lowered, relaxing on his friend's knee, though he raised it every now and again as he spoke animatedly to the others, divulging the events of his past summer to them.

"Oh!" the eager blonde gasped when the boy was still mid-sentence, his eyes wide and mouth-agape. "What happened next, James?!"

"Well, you see," the bespectacled teen continued, not missing a beat in spite of the interruption, "I tapped into my finely attuned reflexes—you know, years of Quidditch—and managed to roll out of the way right in the nick of time. The guy walked right past me, never suspected a thing. Ended up walking out of the store looking pretty confused, but…overall, probably didn't think it was anything more than him seeing things. You know, a trick of the light. Isn't that right, Padfoot?"

"That's right," the dark haired boy returned, offering him a playful smile and a knowing look.

James returned this with a smirk, before shifting his gaze back to the two sitting in front of them.

"That's crazy," the small one concluded. Turning then to his seating buddy for confirmation, he asked, "Isn't that crazy, Remus?"

"Oh, yes," the studious boy agreed simply, though he wore a somewhat chastising expression. "Though, I think, more than anything, it was a bit too…reckless." As an afterthought, however, he added, "And rude."

"Tch," James clicked his tongue, turning his head swiftly away and blowing off Remus' commentary as he instead turned to take a look outside the window. "We've never gotten caught yet, why would this time be any different? Besides, it was just some harmless fun. Pranks are always a little rude."

"I suppose," Remus conceded with a small sigh, lowering his gaze to take in the words on the page in front of him. Not that he was even reading them, really.

There wasn't much point arguing with them over this particular topic, their ways hadn't changed in the five years he had known them. Besides, a little rudeness was a far cry better than some of the other shortcomings one could possess. It certainly exceeded his own share of troubles he carried with him, the burden he placed on them by involving them with him, with his secret.

"Wait a minute!"

At the shrill sound, James' hazel eyes darted over to the rotund boy, and he arched a single brow at him. "What's up, Peter?"

"Ah!" Peter scoffed, questions brimming in his eyes. "I'm just confused. How come…," he shook his head, "how come Sirius was there? And not us? Why does he know the story? Did you already tell him?"

"Uh…nope," James said, as if it should be obvious. "You were right the first time. He was there."

"He was?" Peter leaned forward with his words, before hanging his head in dejection. "I'm jealous."

"Well, then you're gonna be even more jealous once you here this, Wormtail," Sirius informed him, raising his head a fraction with a somewhat roguish glint in his eyes. "James and I are now living together. I moved in this summer."

Peter's head shot up at this new information, his mouth wide open, and his eyes impossibly wider. Even Remus looked up from his vain attempt at reading to award them both a look of perplexity.

"You did?" he asked, and a hint of concern became evident in the distinct crease in his brow. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing new," the Black boy said with a slight eye roll, and an edge to his voice. "I just got fed up with it!" he waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"Oh," Remus lowered his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sympathy on his friend's behalf.

He had always had such a tough time at home, the tension with his family had been escalating for years, ever since he had first been sorted into Gryffindor. From what little Sirius had shared with them, his parents had been livid. Sometimes, it had even gotten a little violent. At least, that's what Remus had discerned. Perhaps it was a good thing Sirius had finally gotten himself out of that house. True, they were his family, but he always seemed so unhappy, just talking about them. It was such a harmful environment, it was apparent to all just how mad his mother was, and his father…well, his father seemed the submissive type, and that didn't help much of anything. Maybe Sirius could be happier now, and…wasn't that what really mattered?

"Jeez!" Peter exclaimed amidst the silent boy's inner musings, his mind on something else entirely. "Can I get fed up so I can move in with James?"

"You have nothing to get fed up with!" Sirius snapped at the selfish child, instant annoyance taking hold of him.

"Jesus Christ!" Peter put his hands up defensively, though his voice took a somewhat sassy edge with his Black companion. "You don't have to get so riled up. I'm just…expressing my feelings here. I'm allowed."

As Sirius decided to not respond to that nonsense, instead opting to roll his eyes, James gave Peter a meaningful look. "Yeah, you're allowed," he told him simply, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it doesn't mean he isn't right. You really…don't have anything to get fed up with, Wormy. You're fine." With a slight tilt of his head, he added, "And…that was kinda insensitive."

"Well…rats," Peter swore under his breath, thinking himself perfectly clever for coming up with such a great curse. He even giggled a little for it.

Now it was James' turn to roll his eyes.

At that moment, the train screeched to a halt, signaling its arrival at King's Cross Station, and students began filing out, flooding the platform, and the Marauders rose to their feet in their compartment, though it wasn't without a groan on Sirius' part. After grabbing their belongings, which took several minutes as they waited on Peter to put his many bags in order, they then proceeded down the aisle, and James was the first to hop off the train, tossing his trunk on the ground in front of him and landing next to it with an added flare.

Sirius and Remus were behind him, the young Black with a slight slouch, and Peter took up the rear, a pleased grin on his countenance, as he assessed the area.

"The boys are back in town!" he announced in his squeaky voice, to no one in particular, though a few stopped to cast stares in their direction. His smile widened further at the attention, even though it was obvious he wasn't the one they were looking at.

Quickly shifting his focus with a new train of thought, however, Peter hurriedly hobbled up to the rest of the gang, placing himself right next to James, as he told them, "That's a new song I heard over the summer! Isn't it just great?"

"I'd say it's pretty fitting," James allowed, with an approving nod of his head.

"I thought so," Peter tilted his head proudly, happy to have his clever insertion acknowledged.

However, it was obvious in the next instant that James' thoughts were far from the new muggle song when his hand shot up almost instinctively to his hair and he began tousling it a bit. Though the rest of the group couldn't see her yet, they knew where his eyes were, and who he was watching, and Sirius even rolled his eyes at his friend's ridiculous antics. Not that it really annoyed him, it was just…a little absurd.

Glancing over at his mate to cast him a single, meaningful glance, James then lowered his hand to instead push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, slowly, as he returned his gaze to the source of all this fuss.

Sirius got the message, nodded, and then ushered the other two forward, even taking James' trunk ahead for him. Who knew how long it would take this time? Sometimes, he took forever. Unless, of course…he didn't. There were times when it took no time at all, when the object of all his pining just walked right off.

As his three companions left his side, James strutted forward a few paces, until he came to lean casually against the nearby pillar, his eyes fixed on that unmistakable head of dark, red hair, a conceited smirk overtaking his expression as she neared him.

It didn't take her long to notice him. After all, he made a point of making himself stand out, and they were also both running a little late, so the station was quickly emptying at this point. And, even if that hadn't been enough to draw her attention to him, the moment she was in earshot, he greeted in a deep, mature voice, "Hey, Lily."

"What? Not Evans?" the redhead cast him a single, scathing look, before walking past him.

"Ohh, I think we're past that," James stated, stepping away from his position against the pillar and falling into step beside her. "Don't you?"

The girl just shook her head and continued walking, deciding to try to ignore him this time.

"Oh, come on," his expression softened a little. "You can't really deny it, can you? First name basis? Our sixth year? I think it's definitely time, Lily. No," he quickly held up a hand, correcting himself, "it's overdue. Way overdue."

Lily sighed at his persistence, momentarily allowing herself to indulge him. "Well, I disagree," she replied in a mater-of-fact tone. "A first name basis is reserved for people who are actually friends, and I can't say you fit that description."

"That's just nonsense," James shook his head at the girl, with a playful smile. "What if you're enemies? What if you're family? Or, what if—what if—that particular person has siblings or parents that you're acquainted with? Even cousins! That'd get awfully confusing if you addressed everybody by their surname."

"None of those apply to you either," Lily narrowed her emerald eyes ever so slightly.

Titling his head to one side to observe the classmate beside him, his smile again shifted toward a smirk as he noted, "You know, you're pretty attractive when you get all fired up."

The redhead released an exasperated sigh, as she simultaneously increased her pace, determined to put as much distance between herself and this infuriating person as possible. Besides, she didn't want to be late either, and he had a certain gift for wasting time.

"Tch, you don't gotta get all huffy and puffy over it," James effortlessly matched her speed, with the air that this was nothing more than a casual stroll. "I was just giving you a compliment."

"You can take your compliments someplace else," she snapped.

"But…I don't want to take them anywhere else," the boy informed her, feigning a look of complete innocence. Not that what he was saying wasn't sincere, it was just the look that wasn't.

"You've been chasing me for five years, with your compliments and staged meetings," Lily brought to the absurd boy's attention.

As many times as he'd asked her out and pined after her affection, she had turned him down an equal amount. There was the occasional guilt over rejecting him, but she had stopped letting that bring her down as she watched his attitude only worsen over the years. He was as cocky as ever, and his actions from their fifth year only served to further downplay his image.

Sighing again, the girl closed her eyes a moment, clearing her thoughts, before directing her attention back to him, "Will there ever be a day where you'll just leave me alone?"

"Well…," here, James leaned over, closer to her, so that they were eye-level, "the day you do agree to go out with me, I won't bother you about it anymore. So…there's that."

"That's what I thought," Lily responded shortly, before averting her attention away and instead focusing on the carriages they were quickly approaching.

A small frown flashed across James' expression at her dismissal, but he quickly replaced it with an easy smile, banishing the negative mood, and bringing his arm to rest around her shoulders as he asked, "Sooo, how was your summer? You get your O.W.L.s in? I bet you made straight O's on all of them, didn't you?"

She didn't respond immediately, her attention focused instead on the sudden invasion of space, and she arched a single brow at the arm slung around her. "If you must know…yes, I did," she said curtly, attempting to brush his arm away, but he persistently kept it in place.

"Thought so," James cast the recipient of all his affections a playful wink. "It is just like you to score perfectly, in all areas," he made a sweep of the hand through the air, to further illustrate his point.

Giving up on her obviously futile efforts to remove him, Lily settled for releasing yet another frustrated sigh. "Well, I can see a few areas that I could improve in," she shot him a meaningful look, "such as how to ward off pests."

"Aww, but I've already told you the magic solution, haven't I?" the undeterred boy offered her a dashing smile. "You give me a chance, and I won't have to keep bothering you like this. Besides, even you have to admit, it can't be that bad, having someone around to tell you every day how beautiful you are, how intelligent, witty, and wonderful you can be, to praise you, ready with a compliment at every turn. I mean…why is this such an awful predicament? Plenty of girls would kill to have this. Or…well, plenty of people, in general."

Lily couldn't help but roll her eyes at that one. It was almost unbelievable how he managed to follow any previous absurdities with one that completely outshone the others. Deciding to forego responding to his final comment, she replied, "Because this isn't something that I want. I never asked to be praised for every little thing, every single day. And I'm not even going to start reacting differently to those compliments because, even after everything you've done, I refuse to take advantage of you just to make myself feel better. It's just not right."

"You'd hardly be taking advantage of me when I'm so willingly offering them," James stated simply, awarding Lily a jokingly chastising look. "And aren't the very best things in life the ones we don't ask for? The ones that just fall in our laps, that we didn't even know we wanted?"

"I suppose that's usually the case, but," Lily shook her head, "I just want peace. And quiet." Glancing ahead, she also added, "And I want to catch the carriages on time."

"Well, no worries, Lily," the dark-haired Gryffindor assured her with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "With your pace? You'll make record time. Though," here, he released her from his hold and gave her a slightly serious look, "if you're really worried, I'll happily carry your trunk for you."

"No, thank you," the girl waved his offer away, "I'm perfectly capable of carrying it on my own."

After heaving a faint sigh at her predicted response, at her usual response, James shoved his hands into his pockets and pressed his eyes shut a moment. However, he quickly shrugged it off, refusing to linger on yet another rejection, and returned his eyes to rest on hers, on those deep, emerald eyes of hers, and he forced a smile.

"Fair enough," he told her simply. "You're allowed to say no as many times as you like. All I need is one yes."

He was just never going to give up. Lily had accepted that a long time ago, but still hoped that he would. Not only for her own peace of mind, but…his, as well. As far as the conversation went, though...she didn't even have a response for him. Not this time. And, moreover, some silence sounded nice, for a change.

They walked on, and, for a time, this last wish of Lily's was granted, the two proceeding side-by-side in silence, with James occasionally kicking at a rock here and there as they trudged up the hill. However, it lasted only a short span of time, as a certain query came to settle in the boy's mind, and he narrowed his eyes slightly in thought, as he actually felt a bit of hesitance.

"By the way," he asked, "how have you been doing? You know, with the whole…Snape thing? I know you two kinda had a falling out before the summer."

The calm, pleasant atmosphere that had settled between them was instantly shattered as that question was posed. Snape…she had tried all summer to stay strong when it came to him, which was even more difficult when she pondered how much she actually missed that jerk. She just had to hold onto her principles and not let it get to her. She just had to get through two more years…that was a terrible thing to think and she didn't want to, but she truly believed it was for the best. There was just nothing more she could do for him.

However, that subject still carried a lot of hurt feelings and anger. Not only directed at Snape, but also at the other person involved. Rounding on the smug asshole himself, Lily's eyes flared with that surfaced disdain, "Yes, we did! We had a falling out that isn't any of your business, except for the part you played in causing it. I'm pulling through it and you don't do anything to help, so don't ask me about it again!"

With that, the fiery redhead spun on her heel and stormed off in the direction of the closest carriage.

James stared after her, his eyes widened, flinching at the tone she had taken with him, but now…now, he just felt how she always managed to make him feel, something she managed to achieve, that no one else ever really had: he felt completely belittled. Whenever she took that tone with him, scolded him for the things he did, reprimanded him and called him out on his behavior, he felt so small, and all his antics so petty…and childish. Even as he watched her, on the one hand, he, as always, felt inclined to run after her, to stay near her as much as he possibly could, but, on the other…he also felt as though he should let her go at this point. He had been bothering her enough as it was, and, well…she had actually put up with him a little more tolerably than she usually did.

Heaving a sigh, he turned his gaze away from her retreating figure, from those dark red tresses which swayed back and forth, even more violently than usual in her vehement stride, and tried to ignore the rising feeling of disappointment she always left him with. Why he did this to himself, constantly put himself in these situations, setting himself up for failure time and again…it was a wonder sometimes, even to him.

Oh, whatever. He shrugged it off, insisting this was just like any other time, typical Lily, that he would succeed eventually, and he brought his eyes to instead search over the many carriages lined in front of him. After a brief moment, he spotted the expectant trio, standing patiently outside one of the last carriages, with their luggage already loaded, and he tried to keep his sulky mood from showing too much as he made his way over to them, hands still in his pockets.

The first to notice him was, unsurprisingly, Peter.

"Look, it's James!" the boy shouted excitedly, pointing in his direction, and the other two followed his line of sight.

"She turn you down again, Prongs?" Sirius mocked his friend good-naturedly. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he held his hand out as he asked, "How many times is that, now?"

"Yeah, Remus!" Peter piped in. "How many? You're always good with that."

"Oh, well, let's see…," the taller boy brought a hand to his chin in thought. "If my calculations are correct, this would be number…five-thousand, eight hundred and…sixty-nine."

Sirius wolf-whistled in response. "Damn! That is a lot."

"Nice!" their little rat friend agreed with the bigger kids. "You always keep it up, don't you, James? Next time it'll be five-thousand, eight hundred, and…um…seventy?"

"Yes, that's correct," Remus confirmed, before glancing over in James' direction with a sympathetic but encouraging smile.

"Hey!" James narrowed his eyes at them, putting on his usual, more confident expression, and trying to ignore the rising depression their words were instilling in him. "Don't get ahead of yourselves! For all we know, there won't even be a next time!"

"That's the spirit!" Sirius gave him a firm pat on the back, although he was definitely laughing at his friend's expense at this point.

"Can I see it again?"

The boy's dark eyes flicked from the faces of the three older students sitting in front of him, to instead come to rest longingly on the nearest left arm, as if trying to catch another glimpse beneath the fabric.

"Oh, why not?" the only female in their company gave a slight eye roll, but with a playful, teasing sort of smile, before pulling back her sleeve and again holding out her arm for the others to see. Marring the flesh of her otherwise flawless skin, in black markings, sat a gaunt, distorted skull, with jagged teeth, and from its open mouth a serpent extended in place of a tongue, wound around itself until its head readied for attack, its fangs protruding threateningly.

"Whoa," another boy muttered under his breath, a smile on his face as he felt himself getting pumped up just looking at it. "It's so cool," he told them, before his admiring, green eyes found those of his brother, Rodolphus Lestrange, who was returning the gaze with a slight smirk in place. It was a little condescending, but…endearing.

"It's badass!" the first boy declared, biting his lower lip with an intense nod.

The girl awarded him a little wink, finishing it off with a coy shrug, before her dark eyes came to rest on those of her little cousin, who was somewhat less animated than the other two, younger boys. "What's the matter, Reggie-kins?" she asked, taking on a baby voice with him. Leaning forward from her seat on the couch across from him, she then ruffled his black hair, "You not excited?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes at that nickname, before exhaling a somewhat annoyed sigh. "Of course I'm excited, Bellatrix," he insisted, meeting the young woman's gaze. "I'm just feeling it all on the inside."

The composed figure seated at the far end of the couch, nearest the fireplace, released a slight scoff at this weak explanation. "Is that so?" he drawled, his voice like velvet. "Because, from what I can see, your face tells a very different story."

Before Regulus could even have a chance to protest, Bellatrix quickly inserted, "Lucy-cakes is right, you know. You look…positively…miffed."

"There's just…a lot on my mind right now," he told them, avoiding their gazes and instead keeping his stare locked on the roaring flames within the hearth.

"'Cause of your worthless brother?" Rabastan asked, with a knowing smile and narrowing his eyes mockingly at his housemate.

Turning his head slowly to face the boy seated beside him, the young Black narrowed his eyes in a glare, but said nothing.

"Ugh!" Bellatrix rolled her eyes at the mere mention of that unfortunate family connection, having heard all about the way he had childishly stormed out of the house mid-argument with his parents over the summer and never come back. His mother had been in a fit of hysteria—well…more like mania, to be honest. And she had set Bellatrix's mother off, and the whole house had been in such an uproar for weeks. Such a drag… Things had finally settled down a little around the place when she had gotten her Dark Mark, a whole new topic of discussion to fill their time, and it was honestly one she found considerably more preferable.

"Can we not talk about him?" she insisted. "Please? I've had to hear about it all summer, and I am so not looking for a recap."

"You're right. We should stop talking about this," Rodolphus conceded calmly, as he leaned forward and tenderly stroked the small of her back. "Now, calm down, darling."

"Fine, fine," the Black woman gave in, falling back to her seat on the couch beside him and leaning begrudgingly against her man.

Regulus released a small sigh of relief, grateful that they had dropped that particularly sensitive topic before it had escalated. Now that summer was over, he was free to get out of that house and find a reprieve during the months at school. His mother was in an impossibly fouler mood, all the time, and his father didn't do much to help. Things were worse than they'd ever been at home and it was all Sirius' fault. He just left the family, left him alone, with mother's temper and a brother to miss. And there wasn't anything he could do about it except play the role of the dutiful, perfect son and make up for all the shame he'd brought.

"So," the first boy began again, his dark eyes completely unaffected by the drama that had arisen between the Black family members, and his eyes darting again between his three older housemates. "Can I see it again?"

"Alright, Bartemius, I think that's enough," Lucius brought his silver eyes to rest on him, a slight admonishing look in place. This had to have been the fourth time he had asked, by now, and it was starting to get a bit…ridiculous.

"Aw, man!" Barty exclaimed dejectedly, pounding his fist against the arm of the couch.

"It's alright, Barty," Bellatrix chimed in, cooing his name. "You'll get one all of your own soon enough."

The younger Slytherin's eyes lit up with all the possibilities, when he lowered them to his left arm, which he clutched in his other hand, and pulled back the sleeve of his brown leather jacket. "One day…," he breathed, stroking the bare skin of his forearm.

"Are you talking about those marks? Again?" an airy voice fluttered over to the small crowd, as a petite girl with shimmering blonde hair stepped through the passageway into the Common Room, her loose curls bouncing as she walked. Circling around the couch behind the older students, she then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the man with those stunning silver eyes. She then bent her head to give him a soft peck on his fair cheek. "Hey, you."

"Hello, Cissy," he returned, his smirk softening to more of a smile as he rested his eyes on the lady who had entwined herself around him.

Narcissa sent him a flirtatious wink, before bringing her sapphire gaze to take in the collective. "I have already heard all about it," she informed them proudly. "In fact, I was one of the first to know. You know…since I'm Trixy's sister, and Lucius' girlfriend."

"Yes, you are," Lucius assured her, a fond look overtaking his countenance at her rather childish antics, so pleased with herself for being in-the-know. Funny little thing.

"Shut-up, we all know that," Rabastan rolled his eyes at her. "I knew too! My brother," here, he pointed emphatically at the older boy who now had his arm wrapped around Bellatrix's waist, "got one, too! Remember?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter who knew first," the older Black sister waved this away with a nonchalant gesture of her hand. "The point is, you all know now."

"Wait!" Barty's eyes snapped up from his arm then. "Does that mean I knew last?"

"Yeah," Rabastan turned to him with an impish smile. "Yeah, it does."

"That's not fair!" the other boy exclaimed, always feeling so out of the loop. It was so hard for him to even find time to get an audience with the Dark Lord, what with his dad being part of the Ministry and so damn nosy. And even if he could, he would still have to wait to get the Dark Mark, because his dad would be checking his arm every minute. He wished he could just get off his case for once.

Turning his attention swiftly to Bellatrix then, he criticized, "You could've sent me an owl or something!"

"Well, I assumed Lucius would have said something to you," the woman gave an indifferent shrug of her shoulders.

Barty arched a single brow at that before slowly turning his accusing eyes to the man in question.

"Come now, Bartemius," Lucius gave him an easy smirk, with a slight tilt of his head, "surely, it meant so much more, actually being able to see it for yourself. Instead, you would have had to wait all summer to even catch a glimpse of it, and yet, this way, that need was instantly sated. A far better arrangement, if I do say so myself."

The younger boy's expression gradually lessened in intensity as he considered what Lucius had said. It's true, he would've had to wait. He wasn't in their company as much during the summer, so he would've known and it would've been nagging at him. He couldn't contain that kind of excitement.

Despite his musings, Barty's eyes maintained their suspicious glint as he asked, "And you're not just saying that because you forgot?"

"Of course not," the Malfoy assured him, waving such an accusation off as if it were the silliest of misgivings. "I gave it extensive thought."

"Right," the unconvinced Slytherin's eyes never left the smirking face of Lucius Malfoy as he slowly turned his head away.

"Well, anyway," the younger Lestrange chimed in again, sporting the same impish smile as before, and clearly not catching onto the obviously heavy sarcasm lacing Lucius' words, "whatever the reason was, I still knew before you. And…I saw it before you."

"Yeah, we got that!" Bellatrix gave an annoyed eye roll at her fiancé's kid brother. "Thanks, Stan."

"You're welcome," he returned, with a mischievous grin, knowing he was getting on their nerves with this insistence. Just like he wanted.

At this last comeback, a certain dark figure in the corner rose to his feet, fed up with the noise, with the obnoxiously circular motion of their conversation, and, ultimately, with the lot of them. He snapped his book shut, containing the irritable huff that threatened in his throat, and merely swept past them, headed toward the dorms. Why he had thought for even a moment he would be able to get some peace and quiet in their presence was beyond him. He should have learned his lesson years ago, by now, and just headed straight for his room when he got here.

Now, this dark presence did not go unnoticed by the group settled around the fireplace, and they all turned to award him equally similar, questioning looks.

"Why so glum, Sevvy?" Bellatrix called after him, again adopting that baby tone she had taken with her cousin.

However, he made no response, brushing off her words altogether and utterly unaffected by the address.

"Severus," Lucius spoke then, his voice flowing out in its usual calm drawl, and he managed to actually make the black-clad boy halt a moment in his steps. "You are welcome to join us."

Narrowing his onyx eyes into a glare at this statement, Severus again said nothing, but proceeded forward out of the Common Room, his black robes billowing behind him, and leaving the others staring after him. Not that this was atypical behavior from their reclusive friend, he actually tended to prefer the isolation to their company, and so they let him stalk away.

Barty then turned to the others, shaking his head, "That guy…"

"He's retarded," Rabastan inserted with a brief eye roll.

Rodolphus awarded his younger brother a mildly chastising look, however, "That's a bit much, Stan."

"Is it?" Bellatrix gave a slight head tilt, though she wore a joking smile, and she gazed up at her betrothed underneath her long, dark lashes. "I think it's pretty spot on. Well…," she allowed a faint shrug, "sometimes. About some things."

"No," Narcissa disagreed, with a slight pout of her lips, "he's not retarded, at all. I think it's kind of sad, how he doesn't know how to be part of a group."

"Eh," Regulus gave a slight shrug, his eyes still trained on the fire, "Snape will be Snape."

Lucius only gave a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth at that, a ghost of a smirk returning, but his silver stare was still concentrated in the direction the morose sixth year had escaped. It was sometimes hard to tell exactly where that troubled boy's mind wandered off to, but it did always center around one particular topic, and there wasn't a doubt in his own mind that that's precisely where it was headed this time. Just as there was no doubt in his mind that the predictable person was headed toward his dorm, to revel in the dark isolation.

And, just as the Malfoy heir predicted, the young Slytherin swept into his bedroom, letting the door slam shut behind him and then crossing the vicinity to his bed, in the far corner of the room, where he slumped over into a sitting position on the edge and allowed his dark eyes to wander to the window just beside him. Not that sunlight ever streamed through it, it was only the Black Lake, the dark, green glow and reflections from the water casting patterns on the stone walls, the occasional merperson swimming past, briefly disrupting the arrangement. It was just as well, though. It was all too fitting for this place, for these dark caves home to the snakes of the castle. The light of day could never find them, never touch them, when they retreated into themselves, when they took up the company of their own.

Those eyes of his, those endless, black eyes, were still narrowed, still glaring, as his mind still teetered over the last words Lucius had spoken to him.

Of course he was welcome to join them. That's exactly what they all wanted. It's what they had all wanted, as long as he had known them, and it's exactly where they had been dragging him all these years, further and further into the darkness with all the rest of them, and further and further away from the briefest glimmers of light that had shown in his miserable life until now. Until 88 days ago, on that dreaded Thursday in the first week of June, to be exact, when the infection had been complete, and they had snuffed out the last gleam of hope that he had been holding onto.

When he had snuffed it out, to be perfectly accurate…

His eyes narrowed impossibly more, and he was filled with such an overwhelming self-loathing. It had all gone exactly as she had predicted, exactly as she had always warned him it would. He had fallen, fallen to the allure of the Dark Arts, to the tempting promises the Dark Lord had made to them, for the future of the wizarding world, and he had effectively turned on the one friend who had stayed by his side through the worst of times, pushing her away for good. There was no taking back what he had said, what he had done, it was unforgivable, not unlike those sickeningly sweet curses he had been so captivated by, turning to them instead of her, embracing the darkness in his heart rather than the light she had so graciously offered him.

He had never deserved it. Never deserved what she was offering, and yet, he had greedily wanted it. Desired it. But even she could not save him. Even she, beautiful, sweet, perfect Lily Evans, she acknowledged this as fact and turned her back on him when she realized that there was no point, that he was determined to fall, to save herself while she still could.

It was probably for the best. Nevermore would he have to endure all those jabs his housemates would make at his expense, the mockeries they would cast his way when they mentioned her, when they jokingly, spitefully uttered the word Mudblood, a name they could utter with no fear of repercussions. They were confident in their stance, in their cause, and he had to solidify himself to fall in their footsteps, to fall in line behind them all, to step up to the future he had already set for himself. The Dark Mark that was now branded on each of the upperclassmen's forearms…it was the mark he, too, would come to carry for the rest of his life.

Yes…

This was where he belonged…