*~Disclaimer~* In case you are under even the slightest pretense that I am
indeed J.K. Rowling, I'm not, sadly ^_^
Sirius Black sat in a moth eaten armchair situated in front of a large fire. It was cold inside number twelve Grimmauld place, and not even the fire could warm him. Wistfully, he pulled out a small mirror from his pocket, as though he could will his fifteen-year-old godson to appear. But he didn't of course. And with a sigh, Sirius returned the mirror to his pocket, where it always rested next to his wand. Sirius grimaced as he ran his fingers over the wand. He did not know why he even bothered to carry it around anymore. It wasn't as though he would ever get the chance to do anything with it. Oh no, he couldn't even step out of the house, much less fight Voldemort for the threat of being sent back to Azkaban. Azkaban... even now the mere thought of the horrifying prison sent shivers up his spine, and conjured up images of the Dementors and the dying, and forced him to think back on the screams of the insane.
"Alright there Padfoot?" Remus asked quietly upon entering the kitchen.
Sirius turned his head slightly in order to get a view of his old friend. Remus looked unusually tired, and his brow was furrowed- a sure sign that he was worried "I'm fine," Sirius said lightly. "You?"
Remus sighed, and sank down into the opposite armchair. "Sirius, I've known you long enough to be able to tell when something is bothering you. Is it something about Harry?"
"No," Sirius began automatically, but then he stopped. Why shouldn't he share his troubles with Remus? Remus was the only remaining marauder...well, the only true marauder, and a true friend as well. "Well, actually yes....and... it does have to do with Harry." Sirius paused, and looked at his friend as though to gain reassurance. "Harry hasn't used the mirror. You know, the ones James-we- used to used to use at Hogwarts."
"You gave him one?" Remus asked with raised eyebrows.
Sirius nodded.
"Sirius, did it even occur to you the problems that that could potentially invite?" Remus exclaimed, though managing to maintain his composure, "What if some other student picked up the mirror, and your face suddenly appeared?"
"So?" Sirius said recklessly.
"Sirius, it's not like it used to be! We're not at school anymore, and as grown men we're responsible for ourselves, and Harry. Yes, Harry, and don't give me that look Sirius. Can you even begin to imagine the field day Fudge and the Daily Prophet would have if they discovered that mirror of Harry's that allowed him to communicate with you? You of all people!"
"I'm his godfather, and I have a right to remain in contact with him. Just to make sure Snivellus doesn't give him any trouble," Sirius replied hotly.
Lupin sighed, "Sirius, I know you love the boy, but can't you see you endanger him by giving him trinkets of our school days? He's not James, Sirius. Harry is a prominent figure in our world, and in mortal peril now that Voldemort is back."
"You sound like Molly!" Groaned Sirius.
"Sirius, you're not the only one who cares about Harry," Remus said softly.
"If you care about him so much- why didn't you take him in after Jame- after they died? Why did you let him stay with those hellish muggles?" Sirius said, standing up from his chair.
"Had I not been what I was, a werewolf, I would have taken him in. But I was in no position to care for a child. I'm not myself when I'm a werewolf. You know that, and the risk of Harry getting bitten would have been too great," Remus said. His voice quavered, as though he really had bitten the baby Harry.
"Hogging up the heat eh?" Exclaimed a feminine voice, interrupting the conversation of the two men.
"Good evening, Tonks," Remus said politely, having resumed his normal composure.
Sirius ducked his head and managed a small smile, though he ached inside to yell, scream, and most of all do something.
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Mad-Eye Moody were quick to enter the kitchen after Tonks, and with their wands, they conjured up a plate of sandwiches, which they passed around. Sirius took one with murmured thanks, before re-settling himself back down on the chair, where he stared into the flames with a brooding expression on his face. Remus tried to catch his eye more than once, but when that proved impossible he struck up a conversation with Tonks. The voices, the noise, were too much. Standing up abruptly, Sirius made for the door, he would go see Buckbeak, who had been injured somehow.
"Where ya going Sirius?" Tonks asked his retreating back.
"Buckbeak," he muttered.
But he never got to see Buckbeak, for at that moment an all to familiar voice rang out in the room. Sirius spun around in his tracks, lips pulled back in a sneer.
"Sirius! Alastor! Kingsl-"
"What is it Snivellus," Sirius demanded rather than asked.
Severus's head sat among the flames of the fire, eyes urgent, "Now is not the time for your antics, Black," Severus hissed icily.
"What is it Severus?" Remus asked, shooting Sirius a warning look.
"It's Harry-"
"What about Harry?" Sirius demanded. All of a sudden, the anger he had felt evaporated, and was replaced with a cold, icy fear.
"He- he thinks you're at the Department of Mysteries. He thinks The Dark Lord has you- is killing you-"
"What about occlumacy?" Remus asked. His face had gone a deathly pale, and Sirius was the only one who noticed his friend's fingers close in about his wand.
Severus was quiet, "No," he said.
"BLOODY FOOL!" Sirius roared, "HE COULD BE HEADING TO LONDON AS WE SPEAK!"
"No, Black," Severus said, urgency battling with hatred on his face, "You stay here, Dumbledore will want to be informed."
It was hard not to laugh at this ludicrous thought. He, Sirius, would stay behind while Harry was in danger? No, he could abstain with fighting Voldemort, but if there was one thing he could not do, it was to sit back while Harry was endangered. "Absolutely not!" Sirius spat, "Kreacher will stay here to tell Dumbledore."
"Now is not the time for your heroics Black," Snape hissed, for hatred had overcome all sense of urgency.
"And now is most certainly not the time for your petty arguments!" Alastor said furiously. "We will head for London at once."
Snaped scowled as he watched Remus, Sirius, Tonks, Kingsley, and Alastor disapperate from the room.
Within seconds, the five of them were crammed inside the phone booth, and then they were zooming down, until they entered the main hall of The Ministry of Magic. Bypassing the information desk, they sprinted for the lift, and then they were going upwards. At level nine they quickly exited.
Sirius was breathing heavily. In his right hand he clutched his wand, and images of Harry flashed through his mind. He could be dead! A sick, numbing, and familiar feeling swept over his wasted features. What if he was responsible for Harry's death as well as James? Harry loved him just as much as he loved Harry. If Harry were killed in the process of saving him... oh he would not, could survive that! He had already paved the way for Voldemort to get to them... Lily and James... by suggesting that Wormtail be the secret keeper.
But he had no time for too much reflection, so he pushed all thoughts out his mind, and emptied it; bracing himself for whatever lay ahead. They were in a room now, circled by plain black doors. He was panting now, and filled with an emotion that was familiar, yet he could not place it. Breathlessly he watched as Alastor and Kingsley opened door after door... scanning the areas with practiced eyes before shutting them shut. They were stuck now on a locked door, and the two of them were bent over the knob, muttering various charms and hexes over the knob. And suddenly, in that moment, he realized the emotion he was feeling. It was excitement. But how could this be? He thought to himself. He was sick to think that as Harry breathed his last he could be feeling excited. But he was out of the house, doing something, fighting Voldemort at long last. Here he could avenge James and Lily, protect their son! And then images of Harry, splayed upon a cold floor and splattered with blood filled his mind. He could be dead.
With a howl, Sirius threw himself on the nearest door. "Alohamora!" He screamed, desperation coating his words.
The door crashed open, revealing a strange, tiered chamber with an ancient and mysterious looking arch. Looking at the arch, a premonition filtered through Sirius, and for a moment, he was left desolate and without hope. And then he saw Harry, Harry handing over the weapon to Lucius Malfoy.
"Stupefy!" Tonks screamed in Malfoy's direction.
In that brief instant, Harry's eyes widened as he noticed the arrivals, and pure relief washed over his features as he noticed Sirius was among them. Sirius felt sick with joy. Harry yet lived! But his exuberance faded. Harry was grabbed from behind by one of the accursed death eaters. He could not die! With a roar Sirius sprang into the fray, casting spells, curses, hexes this way and that in his desperate attempt to get Harry.
Harry was free now, his next glimpse showed, and Macnair; the death eater had been un-masked. Hermione and Neville stood next to him, unsure of what to do, and then Neville was hit by Dolohov's tarentallegra curse, and he was off, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. A beam of light shot out of Dolohov's wand towards Harry's chest, and a powerful rage swept over Sirius. Harry could not die! And he wouldn't, for he blocked the curse with a shielding charm.
Dolohov cursed, "Accio prophecy!" He hissed.
"No!" Sirius cried. With all his might, he rammed into the man, and then they were dueling. Sirius was immediately gratified with a rush of excitement. He had forgotten the thrill he used to get when he dueled.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Sirius heard Harry cry from somewhere, far off. And then Dolohov fell before him, motionless.
"Good one Harry!" Sirius cried. He and Harry were now looking at each other with such relief; both had survived.
A jet of green light narrowly missed Sirius's head, and then he and Harry were back, in the midst of battle. Their relief subsiding. They would have time to talk when it was all over.
Then Sirius lost track of Harry, and he found himself face to face with somebody he had not seen since Azkaban.
"Well, greetings, dear cousin!" Bellatrix Lestrange said with a peal of icy laughter.
"It's been too long, Bella," Sirius hissed. And then they were off, dueling. A crash rang throughout the room. Quickly, Sirius looked up; Dumbledore had arrived.
Bellatrix hissed under her breath. They were the only ones fighting now; Dumbledore had taken care of the rest.
"Old man will die soon, and you will then feel the wrath of The Dark Lord! Without him you would be exposed, divided... Harry would die; Harry will die!" Bella spat with feverish intensity.
"Nonsense, cousin, you speak not with the future in mind, but for the love you have for your own voice," Sirius replied, dodging a bolt of red. He laughed, "Is that the best you can do?"
He laughed at Bellatrix's face, and did not notice the second jet of red until it had hit him in the chest. Pain was sweeping through his body, and his chest felt as though it were on fire. He was falling... falling backwards, and soothing, ethereal arms were reaching out of nowhere, catching him.
"SIRIUS!" He heard in the distance. Harry's face floated in front of him, distorted, and growing fainter by the second. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Failure Sirius thought. But his thoughts were becoming disconnected, disjointed, and then they vanished entirely. He was gone.
Remus stared at the fluttering veil, eyes refusing to believe what his eyes had just told him. No, Padfoot could not be gone. It could not be true. Prongs and Padfoot had both left him.
Harry flashed past him, screaming, screaming for Sirius, just like Remus wanted to do. "Sirius, it's not like it used to be! We're not at school anymore, and as grown men we're responsible for ourselves, and Harry..." The words so recently said, yet said so long ago, in an entirely different, brighter world flashed through his mind. Without thinking, he grabbed a hold of Harry's robes. "No, Harry," he whispered. "Sirius is gone. There is nothing you can do." That made it more real, and the full blunt of the pain hit him. "Nothing you can do," he repeated, voice cracking with agony. Harry sagged against Remus's body; full of the very pain that Remus had become accustomed to, if that was possible. Remus held back his tears for Harry's sake, and the screams of desperation and agony that were clawing at his throat, waiting to get out. But he could not prevent the limpness that had spread over his body in the aftershock, and Harry wrenched free and ran after Bellatrix's retreating form.
Remus watched him run, grief-stricken, before turning back towards the enigmatic veil, fluttering so innocently in an unseen wind. But all things were not as they appeared to be.
Sirius Black sat in a moth eaten armchair situated in front of a large fire. It was cold inside number twelve Grimmauld place, and not even the fire could warm him. Wistfully, he pulled out a small mirror from his pocket, as though he could will his fifteen-year-old godson to appear. But he didn't of course. And with a sigh, Sirius returned the mirror to his pocket, where it always rested next to his wand. Sirius grimaced as he ran his fingers over the wand. He did not know why he even bothered to carry it around anymore. It wasn't as though he would ever get the chance to do anything with it. Oh no, he couldn't even step out of the house, much less fight Voldemort for the threat of being sent back to Azkaban. Azkaban... even now the mere thought of the horrifying prison sent shivers up his spine, and conjured up images of the Dementors and the dying, and forced him to think back on the screams of the insane.
"Alright there Padfoot?" Remus asked quietly upon entering the kitchen.
Sirius turned his head slightly in order to get a view of his old friend. Remus looked unusually tired, and his brow was furrowed- a sure sign that he was worried "I'm fine," Sirius said lightly. "You?"
Remus sighed, and sank down into the opposite armchair. "Sirius, I've known you long enough to be able to tell when something is bothering you. Is it something about Harry?"
"No," Sirius began automatically, but then he stopped. Why shouldn't he share his troubles with Remus? Remus was the only remaining marauder...well, the only true marauder, and a true friend as well. "Well, actually yes....and... it does have to do with Harry." Sirius paused, and looked at his friend as though to gain reassurance. "Harry hasn't used the mirror. You know, the ones James-we- used to used to use at Hogwarts."
"You gave him one?" Remus asked with raised eyebrows.
Sirius nodded.
"Sirius, did it even occur to you the problems that that could potentially invite?" Remus exclaimed, though managing to maintain his composure, "What if some other student picked up the mirror, and your face suddenly appeared?"
"So?" Sirius said recklessly.
"Sirius, it's not like it used to be! We're not at school anymore, and as grown men we're responsible for ourselves, and Harry. Yes, Harry, and don't give me that look Sirius. Can you even begin to imagine the field day Fudge and the Daily Prophet would have if they discovered that mirror of Harry's that allowed him to communicate with you? You of all people!"
"I'm his godfather, and I have a right to remain in contact with him. Just to make sure Snivellus doesn't give him any trouble," Sirius replied hotly.
Lupin sighed, "Sirius, I know you love the boy, but can't you see you endanger him by giving him trinkets of our school days? He's not James, Sirius. Harry is a prominent figure in our world, and in mortal peril now that Voldemort is back."
"You sound like Molly!" Groaned Sirius.
"Sirius, you're not the only one who cares about Harry," Remus said softly.
"If you care about him so much- why didn't you take him in after Jame- after they died? Why did you let him stay with those hellish muggles?" Sirius said, standing up from his chair.
"Had I not been what I was, a werewolf, I would have taken him in. But I was in no position to care for a child. I'm not myself when I'm a werewolf. You know that, and the risk of Harry getting bitten would have been too great," Remus said. His voice quavered, as though he really had bitten the baby Harry.
"Hogging up the heat eh?" Exclaimed a feminine voice, interrupting the conversation of the two men.
"Good evening, Tonks," Remus said politely, having resumed his normal composure.
Sirius ducked his head and managed a small smile, though he ached inside to yell, scream, and most of all do something.
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Mad-Eye Moody were quick to enter the kitchen after Tonks, and with their wands, they conjured up a plate of sandwiches, which they passed around. Sirius took one with murmured thanks, before re-settling himself back down on the chair, where he stared into the flames with a brooding expression on his face. Remus tried to catch his eye more than once, but when that proved impossible he struck up a conversation with Tonks. The voices, the noise, were too much. Standing up abruptly, Sirius made for the door, he would go see Buckbeak, who had been injured somehow.
"Where ya going Sirius?" Tonks asked his retreating back.
"Buckbeak," he muttered.
But he never got to see Buckbeak, for at that moment an all to familiar voice rang out in the room. Sirius spun around in his tracks, lips pulled back in a sneer.
"Sirius! Alastor! Kingsl-"
"What is it Snivellus," Sirius demanded rather than asked.
Severus's head sat among the flames of the fire, eyes urgent, "Now is not the time for your antics, Black," Severus hissed icily.
"What is it Severus?" Remus asked, shooting Sirius a warning look.
"It's Harry-"
"What about Harry?" Sirius demanded. All of a sudden, the anger he had felt evaporated, and was replaced with a cold, icy fear.
"He- he thinks you're at the Department of Mysteries. He thinks The Dark Lord has you- is killing you-"
"What about occlumacy?" Remus asked. His face had gone a deathly pale, and Sirius was the only one who noticed his friend's fingers close in about his wand.
Severus was quiet, "No," he said.
"BLOODY FOOL!" Sirius roared, "HE COULD BE HEADING TO LONDON AS WE SPEAK!"
"No, Black," Severus said, urgency battling with hatred on his face, "You stay here, Dumbledore will want to be informed."
It was hard not to laugh at this ludicrous thought. He, Sirius, would stay behind while Harry was in danger? No, he could abstain with fighting Voldemort, but if there was one thing he could not do, it was to sit back while Harry was endangered. "Absolutely not!" Sirius spat, "Kreacher will stay here to tell Dumbledore."
"Now is not the time for your heroics Black," Snape hissed, for hatred had overcome all sense of urgency.
"And now is most certainly not the time for your petty arguments!" Alastor said furiously. "We will head for London at once."
Snaped scowled as he watched Remus, Sirius, Tonks, Kingsley, and Alastor disapperate from the room.
Within seconds, the five of them were crammed inside the phone booth, and then they were zooming down, until they entered the main hall of The Ministry of Magic. Bypassing the information desk, they sprinted for the lift, and then they were going upwards. At level nine they quickly exited.
Sirius was breathing heavily. In his right hand he clutched his wand, and images of Harry flashed through his mind. He could be dead! A sick, numbing, and familiar feeling swept over his wasted features. What if he was responsible for Harry's death as well as James? Harry loved him just as much as he loved Harry. If Harry were killed in the process of saving him... oh he would not, could survive that! He had already paved the way for Voldemort to get to them... Lily and James... by suggesting that Wormtail be the secret keeper.
But he had no time for too much reflection, so he pushed all thoughts out his mind, and emptied it; bracing himself for whatever lay ahead. They were in a room now, circled by plain black doors. He was panting now, and filled with an emotion that was familiar, yet he could not place it. Breathlessly he watched as Alastor and Kingsley opened door after door... scanning the areas with practiced eyes before shutting them shut. They were stuck now on a locked door, and the two of them were bent over the knob, muttering various charms and hexes over the knob. And suddenly, in that moment, he realized the emotion he was feeling. It was excitement. But how could this be? He thought to himself. He was sick to think that as Harry breathed his last he could be feeling excited. But he was out of the house, doing something, fighting Voldemort at long last. Here he could avenge James and Lily, protect their son! And then images of Harry, splayed upon a cold floor and splattered with blood filled his mind. He could be dead.
With a howl, Sirius threw himself on the nearest door. "Alohamora!" He screamed, desperation coating his words.
The door crashed open, revealing a strange, tiered chamber with an ancient and mysterious looking arch. Looking at the arch, a premonition filtered through Sirius, and for a moment, he was left desolate and without hope. And then he saw Harry, Harry handing over the weapon to Lucius Malfoy.
"Stupefy!" Tonks screamed in Malfoy's direction.
In that brief instant, Harry's eyes widened as he noticed the arrivals, and pure relief washed over his features as he noticed Sirius was among them. Sirius felt sick with joy. Harry yet lived! But his exuberance faded. Harry was grabbed from behind by one of the accursed death eaters. He could not die! With a roar Sirius sprang into the fray, casting spells, curses, hexes this way and that in his desperate attempt to get Harry.
Harry was free now, his next glimpse showed, and Macnair; the death eater had been un-masked. Hermione and Neville stood next to him, unsure of what to do, and then Neville was hit by Dolohov's tarentallegra curse, and he was off, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. A beam of light shot out of Dolohov's wand towards Harry's chest, and a powerful rage swept over Sirius. Harry could not die! And he wouldn't, for he blocked the curse with a shielding charm.
Dolohov cursed, "Accio prophecy!" He hissed.
"No!" Sirius cried. With all his might, he rammed into the man, and then they were dueling. Sirius was immediately gratified with a rush of excitement. He had forgotten the thrill he used to get when he dueled.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Sirius heard Harry cry from somewhere, far off. And then Dolohov fell before him, motionless.
"Good one Harry!" Sirius cried. He and Harry were now looking at each other with such relief; both had survived.
A jet of green light narrowly missed Sirius's head, and then he and Harry were back, in the midst of battle. Their relief subsiding. They would have time to talk when it was all over.
Then Sirius lost track of Harry, and he found himself face to face with somebody he had not seen since Azkaban.
"Well, greetings, dear cousin!" Bellatrix Lestrange said with a peal of icy laughter.
"It's been too long, Bella," Sirius hissed. And then they were off, dueling. A crash rang throughout the room. Quickly, Sirius looked up; Dumbledore had arrived.
Bellatrix hissed under her breath. They were the only ones fighting now; Dumbledore had taken care of the rest.
"Old man will die soon, and you will then feel the wrath of The Dark Lord! Without him you would be exposed, divided... Harry would die; Harry will die!" Bella spat with feverish intensity.
"Nonsense, cousin, you speak not with the future in mind, but for the love you have for your own voice," Sirius replied, dodging a bolt of red. He laughed, "Is that the best you can do?"
He laughed at Bellatrix's face, and did not notice the second jet of red until it had hit him in the chest. Pain was sweeping through his body, and his chest felt as though it were on fire. He was falling... falling backwards, and soothing, ethereal arms were reaching out of nowhere, catching him.
"SIRIUS!" He heard in the distance. Harry's face floated in front of him, distorted, and growing fainter by the second. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Failure Sirius thought. But his thoughts were becoming disconnected, disjointed, and then they vanished entirely. He was gone.
Remus stared at the fluttering veil, eyes refusing to believe what his eyes had just told him. No, Padfoot could not be gone. It could not be true. Prongs and Padfoot had both left him.
Harry flashed past him, screaming, screaming for Sirius, just like Remus wanted to do. "Sirius, it's not like it used to be! We're not at school anymore, and as grown men we're responsible for ourselves, and Harry..." The words so recently said, yet said so long ago, in an entirely different, brighter world flashed through his mind. Without thinking, he grabbed a hold of Harry's robes. "No, Harry," he whispered. "Sirius is gone. There is nothing you can do." That made it more real, and the full blunt of the pain hit him. "Nothing you can do," he repeated, voice cracking with agony. Harry sagged against Remus's body; full of the very pain that Remus had become accustomed to, if that was possible. Remus held back his tears for Harry's sake, and the screams of desperation and agony that were clawing at his throat, waiting to get out. But he could not prevent the limpness that had spread over his body in the aftershock, and Harry wrenched free and ran after Bellatrix's retreating form.
Remus watched him run, grief-stricken, before turning back towards the enigmatic veil, fluttering so innocently in an unseen wind. But all things were not as they appeared to be.