Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter stories or any of its characters.

The quiet of the room was deafening. Sirius sat in the middle of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, surrounded by nothing but silence. Not that he minded—he much preferred it over his mother's screeching any day—but it was beginning to get a bit unnerving. The house wasn't usually this quiet. Sirius's mother was always yelling for some reason or another. His father was always stomping around the house, grumpy after his day at the Ministry. Regulus was always gloating to their parents about his friends, grades, or accomplishments, securing his spot as the favored child. And Kreacher was always mumbling about how much he really hated his "disgraceful master Sirius, always upsetting his mistress." But tonight, nothing. Sirius strained his ears to hear the slightest pin drop, but all he was able to detect was the overwhelming silence.

After a few minutes of that, Sirius decided that it really wasn't worth his time. After all, it wasn't as if his family cared about anything that had to do with him, so why should he give a second's thought about them? Sitting on the hardwood floor of his room, he cracked open one of his favorite books. Other students at Hogwarts would laugh if they heard the great Sirius Black enjoyed casual reading, but it was one of the only ways he could find peace in this godforsaken house. He could imagine he was somewhere far grander, magical in a different sense.

A sharp rap on the door ripped Sirius out of his fantasy, causing him to jump to his feet unconsciously. His breathing slowed when he remembered where he was, and another knock reminded him why he got up. Slowly, he strode to his door, opening it to find his mother standing on the other side, smiling sweetly.

Walburga Black didn't smile. Ever. She may have smirked in a malicious fashion, but she never smiled. Nor was she a sweet woman. She constantly screamed at Sirius, reminding him that she was disgusted with him, and how she couldn't believe that she gave birth to such an intolerable disgrace of a child. Sirius, in all of his fifteen years, had never witnessed her as anything but cruel, impatient, bitter, and hag-like. Yet, there she was, standing outside her least favorite family member's door, smiling sweetly.

"Yes, mother?" Sirius asked warily, narrowing his eyes. He didn't trust her; not one bit.

"Oh, Sirius," Walburga sighed, still smiling. It was almost sickening, the way she was acting. "I know that you did not mean to disappoint me, or disgrace out family so much. I know that you only act defiantly now because you inherited my stubborn nature and you father's fighting spirit," she continued, looking sympathetic. Sirius had absolutely no idea where this was coming from, and quite frankly, he didn't know how to react. But before he could say anything, his mother went on. "I realize that all of this has been blown way out of proportion. I do not want to hate you, and I know that you do not want to hate me or the rest of your family. That is why, my darling boy, I offer you a chance to redeem yourself."

Sirius shivered. The only time his mother had used pet names such as 'darling' was when he was in serious trouble and he knew that it called for a beating. He thought back to what she had just said- "I offer you a chance to redeem yourself…" Sirius didn't like the sound of that. Anything that would raise him higher in his parents' eyes most likely went against his own set of morals. "Mother, what are you on about?" he asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

Walburga's smile, which had faded a bit as she had been trying to make sense of the hatred among the Black family, returned with full force, causing Sirius to step back involuntarily. "Well, my son, as you know, there is a wizard—a very powerful wizard, in fact—who supports blood purification of the wizarding race. He has started to show up more often in the Prophet as of late. I am sure you have heard of him—I believe he is called the Dark Lord?"

Sirius choked. Coughing, he managed to get out, "Voldemort?"

Walburga slapped him. Cheek stinging and face red, Sirius turned his face to look back at his mother. "You insolent child! Do not say the Dark Lord's name! Soon, it will be master to you!" She looked absolutely livid, her eyes wild and temples bulging.

His mother's words sunk in. Master… Sirius's eyes flew wide open as he realized the implications behind her statement. "You don't mean…" he drifted off in a whisper.

Walburga nodded, seeming to have gotten her anger back in check. "Yes, boy. You have screwed up your life and our reputation thus far, but you have a chance to change all of that. By becoming a Death Eater-"

"NO! THERE IS NO FREAKING WAY IN THIS LIFETIME THAT I COULD EVEN CONSIDER FOR A SECOND BECOMING ONE OF THEM!" Sirius shouted at his mother, giving himself a headache from the decibel that he had achieved. If there was one thing that Sirius had inherited from his family besides looks, it was his temper. It was something that he was not proud of, seeing as it got him in trouble more often than not.

Instead of blowing up in fury, as Sirius had expected, Walburga seemed eerily calm. It was unnerving to Sirius. "Why not? What reasons have you for not joining? Regulus has already joined…"

Everything around Sirius clouded over and faded away. No. Not Regulus, not his baby brother. He was smarter than that, braver too. He couldn't be as thick and cowardly as to join that band of murderers. Not him, not at fourteen, not ever. Sirius had thought that he was so much more than that.

Walburga's voice drifted into Sirius's ears, and his surroundings slowly came back around him. His mother seemed to still be going on about Death Eaters, saying, "-if both of my sons had joined the Dark Lord, even the disgraceful one. Don't you want to make your mother proud?"

Suddenly, Sirius was livid again. "I tried mother. I've tried to gain your approval and love since I've been a small boy. But I just can't seem to do it, can I? Well, guess what? I'm done! I'm not going to stoop so low as to become a killer, simply so make you proud."

Sirius's mother sighed and hung her head a little. In a voice that was barely audible, she muttered, "I did not want it to come to this…" Sirius's eyebrows knitted together before Walburga screeched down the stairs for his father. "ORION!"

Sirius knew what was about to happen. He knew he was in for hell. But this time, he couldn't seem to care. His parents had gone too far this time. To suggest that he become a Death Eater and turn against everything he'd ever supported, to suggest that he become like the rest of his family—it was just plain insulting to think that he would change his mind now.

Orion Black stormed up the steps and was suddenly next to his wife in Sirius's doorframe. He was a tall, dark, frightening man. His cold, black eyes bore into his son with anger. "What has he done now, Walburga?"

Folding her arms across her chest and never taking her eyes off of her eldest son, she explained, "Sirius has declined our offer. He vehemently refuses to join the Dark Lord. I believe he simply needs a bit more convincing." Sirius stared straight into his father's eyes as she spoke, his jaw set defiantly. He would not back down. He never had, and he was not about to start.

"I see," Orion said, taking a few steps into the room, arms clasped behind his back. "And why not, Sirius?"

Sirius bared his teeth, disgusted. "Because I don't believe in your pureblooded dominance views. Because I actually care about those who don't come from an old wizarding family. Because I judge people based on their personality instead of their blood status. Because I'm not you. Because I'm not like you or Regulus or the Malfoys or Lestranges or McNairs." Sirius' temper was growing again, and he couldn't stop his voice from rising. "All this crap that you've been feeding Regulus and me since we were young is wrong! We aren't better than everyone else just because we're pureblooded! No one has any right to kill or even hurt another based on their background! And that's exactly what this Voldemort guy is doing! He's killing anyone who isn't pureblood just because they're different!"

Orion stood staring calmly at his son all through his rant. When Sirius was done, face red, panting, Orion simply stared at him. He took a deep, long breath, and looked at Sirius in disappointment. "So this is how you feel. There is no changing your mind?" Shakily, warily, Sirius shook his head. Orion sighed. "I always knew you were a stubborn one. But I had expected you to grow out of it." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

Orion backhanded Sirius so fast that he didn't see it, and barely had time to register it. His head snapped to the left sharply, and he looked back only to see his father's fist hit him squarely in the jaw. Sirius stumbled back a bit. Orion pursed his lips together. "This is what happens when you disobey what you are told. Your mother and I told you to make us proud by being sorted into Slytherin. Did you?"

Sirius looked up again at his father, defiance in his eyes. Smiling ruefully, he responded proudly, "No." The word had no sooner left his mouth than his father punched him in the stomach, hard. Gripping Sirius's shoulder tightly as to keep him upright, Orion hit him until his son was gasping for breath. He let go of his shoulder, and Sirius sank to the ground, clutching his midsection.

"Your mother and I told you to stop fraternizing with that blood-traitor Potter, the half-blood Lupin, that filthy excuse for a wizard Pettigrew, and that redheaded mudblood. Did you?"

Sirius shook his head. "No," he said, breathing hard. A kick to the side of the face sent him reeling. He fell onto his side, stars shooting up in front of his eyes. He tried to blink them away as his father started up again. His voice was a bit muffled to Sirius, but he caught enough.

"—do as your brother did, to uphold family reputation, and to respect family ideals. Did you?"

Before Sirius could gasp out another 'No,' Walburga answered for him. "No! You have NOT! You have been nothing but an ungrateful wretch since you were a small child. You always rebelled against anything we have ever taught you, and I do not know why we have put up with it for so long! In fact, I do not know why I have not had you killed before now!" Sirius stared at his mother in horror. He was appalled that she would even say such a thing, but he was far from surprised. He was more afraid of what she would do to him in such an angered state. "You do not deserve to lick the scum off of my shoes. You are worthless, and I cannot believe I have not done this before. Crucio!"

Sirius's veins were afire. His blood boiled inside his skin, which felt as if it were being ripped and shredded into a million pieces. He felt his insides twisting and knotting around themselves. It was if he was being stabbed in every pore of his skin, then lit of fire, and stretched beyond his limits. The pain was excruciating, and although he didn't want his parents to have the satisfaction of hearing his screams of agony, he could not keep it inside. He screamed so loudly that he was sure he was going to go deaf or pop a lung, but he couldn't pay attention to anything but the sheer pain exploding inside his body.

Suddenly the curse was lifted and Sirius heard a faint knocking in the distance. Pain still coursed through his body, and he wasn't quite sure of where he was. He was dazed, whimpering on the floor uncontrollably, and he just wanted to curl up in a dark hole where the world could never find him. Sirius was vaguely aware of a voice, a voice that he thought sounded like his brother's, saying something. What was it? He couldn't quite make it out. Turning his head, and releasing an explosion of pain inside his brain and neck, Sirius tried to focus his eyes on his brother. Regulus was looking down at him slowly as he said, "He's arrived."

The room was still for a moment, Sirius trying to comprehend what was going on, and his parents anticipating what was soon to happen. Orion turned sharply away from Regulus and marched over to his eldest son, wrenching him up by the collar of his shirt. Sirius tried to stand, but the effects of the Cruciatus hadn't quite worn off, and he found that his legs were unwilling to do what he wanted. His father scoffed, clearly disgusted by the sight, and promptly began to drag Sirius out the door. Regulus threw his brother an apologetic glance as their father hauled him down the hall. Sirius made an attempt to scramble to his feet as they approached the stairs but his feet would only slide along the floor. He curled his arms about his head as his father cast him down the stairs. Sirius felt every step collide with his body. He lay at the bottom, suppressing a groan that he knew would get him beaten more. The ominous clunks of Orion's footsteps made him shudder, and he prayed, for one of the few times in his life, to just make everything go away. Sirius had a hard time believing in God, but at that moment, he really hoped there was one, and that he was merciful.

"Get up, scum," Orion growled, kicking him sharply in the ribs. Sirius yelped reflexively, earning himself another swift kick. Slowly, he rolled himself onto his stomach and managed to raise himself up on his hands and knees. Orion, impatient, pulled him up the rest of the way by his hair. When Sirius was standing fully, he let go and shoved him toward the door that Regulus was holding open. Sirius stumbled through the doorway, almost falling, but he caught himself on the doorframe. A round of cackles and snickers made him jump in surprise. Looking up from where his eyes were locked on the ground, he saw a semicircle of cloaked and masked figures. In the center of them all was a man—a man, who, to Sirius, did not look like a man at all. His skin was as pale as moonlight, his eyes were snakelike slits, and his sneer was enough to make Dementors cower. Sirius was looking at Voldemort himself.

"Well, well," he hissed, and a shiver ran down Sirius's spine. Orion appeared behind him and shoved him out of the doorway. Sirius, not expecting it, tripped down the stairs. His body screamed in protest, but he managed to pull himself to his elbows, and found himself lying at Voldemort's feet. "If it isn't Sirius Black. I have wanted to meet you for a long time." Sirius shuddered as the ring of Death Eaters snickered underneath their breath. "Although, I do believe all the pain you have suffered could have been prevented, if you weren't such a stubborn child." Voldemort smiled wickedly, his arms spread wide. "Come, young Sirius—join me, and I can make all the hurt go away."

Voldemort was right about Sirius in one respect—he was stubborn as all hell. Drawing himself to his full height, ignoring his body's complaints, he glared straight into Volemort's eyes. Smiling humorlessly, he declared, "No, thanks. I think I'll pass."

The Death Eaters were silent, apprehensive maybe. Beside his parents, Regulus was biting his lip. He knew too well what happened to wizards who dared to defy the Dark Lord.

To their immense surprise, Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. Bringing his eyes back to Sirius, who still stood defiantly, he chuckled, "You really do have the gall of a Gryffindor, Black. In some ways it is admirable; in others, it is foolish." Voldemort had stopped laughing, and his gaze was hard. He sighed. "It's a shame, Sirius, that you feel the way you do. After all, I could give you anything that you wanted. I could give you so much power…"

Demonstrating such power, Voldemort raised his wand at Sirius, almost lazily. Suddenly, Sirius was on the ground, writhing in pain. A purple aura surrounded him, and he felt it enter him through every pore, and begin to burn him from the inside out. He couldn't help but scream.

The spell was lifted abruptly, leaving Sirius gasping for breath. He panted, and rasped, "I don't want… anything… you can give me. I've… got it al—already."

The cackles of Death Eaters were muffled in his ears, and he felt his eyes start to droop in exhaustion. Voldemort's voice cut through the fog in his brain, as though he was inside his brain. "Oh? I don't suppose you mean your little friends?" Sirius heard him snap his fingers, and there were three 'pop!' noises. And then he heard the very last thing he ever wanted to hear.

"Sirius!" a familiar voice yelled. Two more voices echoed the first, all of which he recognized. Lifting his head from the ground, he confirmed his worst fears—in the hands of the Death Eaters, wands at their throats, were James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Behind him, Walburga chortled in glee. Sirius could literally feel his life crumble around him.

"Alright, boy, I'll ask you just one more time. Join my Death Eaters, or watch your friends die," Voldemort said exasperatedly. "And you'd better make up your mind fast—I've become impatient with you and your insolence."

Sirius looked at his friends desperately. "Don't listen to him Sirius!" James called out. "It's not worth it! You can't—" He was cut off with a silencing spell that Voldemort placed on him and the rest. They all shook their heads, wordlessly telling him to not accept, but he couldn't let them die! They were his best friends, the only people that cared for him in the world! But if he joined to save their lives, would he be given a mission to kill them anyway? Would they hate him forever?

"Your time is up, Black!" Voldemort announced. "Now you are all dead." He pointed his wand at James, who squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. "Avada Ked—"

"WAIT!" Sirius heard himself shout. Voldemort stopped mid-spell and turned to him. The tears rolled down his cheeks as Sirius whispered, "I'll do it. Just don't kill them. Please, don't hurt them."

The wicked smile that graced Voldemort's lips made Sirius feel sick. "Very well." Sirius felt two burly Death Eaters hoist him to his feet and drag him towards Voldemort. One yanked out Sirius's left arm, palm up, exposing his pale, bare skin. Voldemort placed the tip of his wand on Sirius's arm and muttered a few words. Sirius cried out in pain. He could feel the darkness enter his arm, seep into his veins, and spread throughout his body. Glancing at his arm, he now saw a picture of a black snake slithering through and around a skull. The Dark Mark.

Voldemort's cold hand cupped Sirius's face, causing him to stiffen immediately. "There, there, don't weep. I'm proud of you," he hissed maliciously. Turning, he gave a signal to one of the Death Eaters holding Sirius's friends.

Grinning maniacally, the Death Eater holding Remus shrieked, "Avada Kedavra!" Sirius screamed as Remus' body arched, and then went limp. He made to run forward, but a full body bind was cast on him, as well as a silencing charm, so that he had to silently endure the torture. He watched the green light flash and saw each of his dear friends fall. Peter dropped lifelessly like a marionette whose strings had been cut. And James, his brother in almost every sense of the word, crumpled gracefully to the ground; Sirius half wondered if James was simply pulling a prank, if he would jump up at any moment to attack the surrounding Death Eaters.

They each fell gracefully, their eyes full of sadness, surprise, and what Sirius could have sworn was accusation. His body collapsed to the ground as the binding spell was lifted, and he could find no energy to do anything but sob. He could only keen for the friends that he had lost, that he had gotten killed, as Voldemort grinned triumphantly.

Sirius cried out as he woke, jerking his body upright. He was soaked in sweat and panting heavily. Glancing around, he saw that he was in his dormitory in Hogwarts, not outside Grimmauld Place surrounded by Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Though he knew he was safe, he couldn't stop his heart from racing or the nausea from welling in his stomach. It had been so real.

"Sirius?" Not expecting the voice, Sirius's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Whirling around, he saw that James held open his bed hangings, and behind him stood Remus and Peter. "Padfoot, mate, are you alright?" Taking shaky breaths, Sirius shook his head vigorously. Not able to speak, he mouthed, 'No.'

The other Marauders climbed into the bed to sit cross-legged around Sirius. James sat next to him and rested an arm across his shoulders. Sirius crumpled forward, head in hands. "Nightmare, Sirius?" Remus asked. This had become a familiar routine for the Marauders.

Sirius nodded. "It was bad this time. Really bad."

"What happened, Padfoot?" Peter prompted.

Sirius was silent for a long minute. He looked up at his friends with watery eyes, though he would deny it vigorously in the future. "He had you," he whispered. "He told me if I joined he'd spare you. I did." Sirius shuddered and pulled his arms against his stomach. "But he didn't. I joined and he killed you anyway."

James tightened his hold around Sirius' shoulders and Sirius leaned into him slightly. "Mate, we're right here. There's no need to worry."

Sirius looked at him sharply. "But what about after we graduate? Hogwarts can't keep us safe forever! What's going to happen in this war?"

James took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. He looked up to meet Sirius' gaze again. "I don't know what's going to happen. But what I do know is that I will try my bloody best to keep all of you safe."

Sirius nodded, sniffing. "Me, too."

"Me, too," Remus added, placing a hand on Sirius' shin.

"Me, too," Peter echoed, quieter than the rest.

"I won't let anything happen to any of you," Sirius said firmly, his eyes steeling over. "I promise."