A Darker Destiny
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Note:This was written in response to Brilliance of the Moon's Challenge #5.
Chapter 1 Runaway
It was a clear, cool night. The air was crisp and the narrow road that ran through the tiny village in the valley was empty, with the exception of a grey cat that wound its way between the dustbins next to the pub. The houses that stood on either side of the road were all dark and the only sound to be heard was the slight rustle of leaves.
The dusty road carried on out of the village to the open countryside. On either side of the road were open fields, some bare earth; others were lush and green. Above the fields, the stars twinkled in the cloudless sky and the sliver of moon shone faintly.
In an old cottage that stood to one side of the road, just outside the village, a baby slept peacefully in his bedroom, which was decorated in a warm yellow and touches of red. The baby's parents stood proudly, just gazing adoringly at the child that slumbered, oblivious to the attention.
Suddenly, they heard a loud bang, followed by muffled laughter. Then, complete silence. Seconds ticked by with only the sound being Harry Potter's soft breathing. Then, a soft creak, barely audible except for the heavy silence, could be heard.
Lily Potter moved her worried green eyes moved away from the child to gaze at the man who stood on the other side of the crib. James Potter already had his wand out and ready.
"James…he's here. But how? Peter…" her voice trailed off.
James shook his head. "I don't know. Just stay up here with Harry, Lily. Take care of him."
Lily could only nod before James moved quietly to the door.
"James…"
"Yes?"
"Just…be careful." Lily's eyes filled with tears as her husband nodded once, briefly smiling before he left her for the last time.
"Wake up Harry!"
"G'way," came Harry's muffled reply.
The loud banging noise continued. "Harry! It's time for presents. You've got to get up. Now!"
It was the tone of finality that eventually convinced Harry to get out of bed. Grabbing a random robe from the chair next to his bed and grumbling under his breath, Harry stumbled to his bedroom door and wrenched it open. Bright hazel eyes looked up at him.
"Beth. Please, it's only…" Harry glanced at his wrist before he realized that his watch was still on his desk. After a moment's rummage, he put his watch on before finally peering blearily at the face.
"Beth, it's ten to six!"
Beth Potter, just turned five, pouted at her half-brother. "But it's Christmas. C'mon Harry, I want to open my presents." Beth pouted and stared up at Harry with her big brown eyes, an action that she knew guaranteed her any request she made.
Harry looked at her for a second, then shut his own eyes and turned his head up to the ceiling. Merlin, why does she do that?
Harry opened his eyes and looked down at his little sister, defeat evident on his face.
"Fine, fine, let's go open your presents. How about Dad and Anne?"
"Well…" Beth didn't answer and instead looked down at the floor.
"Hang on, have you gone to call them?" asked Harry, feeling slightly worried.
The wavy mane of black hair nodded.
"Are they awake?"
"I think so," replied the quiet voice.
Harry looked at her, narrowing his eyes as he caught her hesitation.
"Hang on... Beth, please tell me they came back last night," said Harry, anger starting to seep into his voice.
"Well, I think they did. But they left a note. I…I…well, I forgot about it," said Beth as she held out the folded bit of parchment.
Harry took the bit of parchment with a sense of foreboding. Please, not three years in a row, he thought to himself as he unfolded the note.
Harry and Beth,
Merry Christmas! Hopefully you're both up in time for the breakfast the house-elves made, if not, not to worry. Go ahead and open your presents; we won't be back in time to open them with you – we're terribly sorry, the department is in absolute chaos. But we will be back for the dinner this evening, so we'll see you then.
Mum and Dad.
Yeah, sure, thought Harry bitterly. Three years in a row…I should have known.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment; all his earlier cheer evaporating the moment he had finished the note. When he opened them, he looked down at Beth and cracked a reassuring but undoubtedly sad smile.
"Don't worry Beth; let's just go open the presents, OK?'
"Harry…will they come back?" There was a catch in Beth's voice at the last word, and Harry's heart broke when he heard it, but he needed to keep up the mock-cheer, just for his little sister's sake.
"Of course." This time, his smile lost its sadness. "Come on," he said, picking her up and walking down the long corridor. Although Harry was only ten years old, he was well-built, and Beth took after his step-mother, who was tiny.
Beth's face immediately brightened up as she clung to her big brother; her big brother who was always there for her, no matter what.
It was late on Christmas night when James and Anne Potter stepped out of the fire-place and into the kitchen. Both wore the scarlet robes that identified them as Aurors.
James was the first to notice that the house was in complete darkness, with the exception of the flickering flames in the fireplace. He wasn't one of the top Aurors in the Ministry for nothing, and he immediately had his wand out; Anne was only a split second behind him; a quickly muttered lumos proceeded, and the kitchen was softly illuminated.
"James…" started Anne but trailing off as she noticed the remains of Christmas dinner on the table. Three settings were untouched, while a fourth held an almost full serving of turkey and roast potato.
James looked at the table, the beginnings of a very strong wave of guilt washing over him. "We missed Christmas," he said softly.
Anne looked sadly at his back; his usually proud shoulders and back were rounded and hunched and when she stepped in front of him to face him, he had an expression of complete defeat.
Anne had not seen James look so miserable since Lily Potter's death. Not knowing quite what to do, she swept him into a hug. They stood there quietly for a few moments before Anne finally spoke.
"James, where do you think they are?" she asked.
James looked up from the embrace. He frowned. "Maybe they went straight to sleep? Come on, let's have a look."
Once again in full control of his emotions, he lead her up to Harry's room, then to Beth's. However, the search proved to be in vain. As the minutes passed, and James and Anne grew even more frantic, they started to run from room to room, calling out the children's names.
But no one answered.
James finally reached the library; it was completely silent. He stepped in, but no one was there. Exhausted, he sank into a large, red armchair, stretching his feet out to the warm, crackling fire and closed his eyes.
Wait…why was the fireplace lit in the library? It's never lit… unless someone was using it, and Anne's the only person in this house who ever does.
James sat up, adrenaline flooding through his body, accompanied by another, unidentified feeling. He shook it off as he approached the fireplace, looking it over once before calling for his wife.
"Did you find them?" were Anne's first words as she entered the library and looked around for the children.
"No, but someone lit the fireplace. It wasn't you, was it?"
Anne just shook her head in the negative, before a small piece of folded parchment on the table next to the fireplace caught her eye. Quickly, she picked it up, unfolding it with suddenly trembling hands. James watched; that funny feeling was back again, but as before, he ignored it, instead concentrating on his wife. Anne scanned the slip of parchment quickly, before, rather suddenly and inexplicably, dissolving into tears.
Alarmed, James clasped her into a one-armed hug, grabbing the parchment from her. She was beyond speaking now, so there was no point in asking her any questions when he could just as easily read it for himself.
Dear Dad and Anne,
It's the third year in a row. Beth was so disappointed, even though she tried not to show it. How could you? You've hurt both of us, Beth especially: you promise things, but you never, ever keep them. It's always work, work, work. Well, you'll have plenty of time to work now. I've taken Beth with me. Don't worry, Dad, I know how to take care of both of us. And she won't ever be disappointed again, you have my word.
Harry.
James dropped the letter, completely speechless.
It was rather late when Sirius Black felt the summons. Irritated, he swore under his breath, before he set down the rather tempting last few swallows of Firewhiskey on an elegant side-table in order to grab his cloak and mask.
Bending down the side of the fireplace, he rapped a complicated pattern on what seemed to be, to the naked eye, a blank patch of wall, albeit a rather nice wooden one. Completing the tapping, he moved back slightly as a small door popped open, revealing a small space in the wall.
Sirius smiled slightly at the simplicity of the hiding place before reaching in to remove a heavy black cloak and a plain white mask. After pressing the door back into the wall, where it blended in seamlessly, Sirius stood up and threw the cloak around his shoulders. He fastened it with an intricate silver clasp and pulled on the white mask.
Having dressed for the occasion, he walked over to a large mirror on the other side of the room, checking that his mask was set on straight before pulling the hood of the cloak over his head. He was immediately unrecognizable.
He was just about to apparate out, but then a flash of amber caught his eye. Chuckling softly, he strode over to the crystal tumbler that sat next to the fireplace, catching the flickering of the flames, and downed its contents.
Turning away from the fireplace, he shut his eyes, concentrating. After all, it wouldn't do to turn up at the meeting missing a limb or two, would it? However, just as he felt the squeezing sensation on his body, the flames in his fireplace glowed green, before spitting out a bundle. The bundle latched itself to Sirius' waist as it flew out of the flames, but Sirius couldn't do anything about it. It was all he could do to stop himself from getting splinched.
The next moment, he had arrived at the meeting, only to fall over as the weight of the bundle destabilised him. Quick as a flash, Sirius had pushed the bundle away, and pulled out his wand; his actions were copied by the other cloaked and masked people who surrounded him.
The bundle was motionless.
Cautiously, Sirius stepped forward, prodding at the lumpy bundle with a toe. Suddenly, the bundle rolled over and Sirius quickly stepped back, still clutching his wand.
"Padfoot?" came the tentative voice from the bundle.
That voice sounded familiar, but who was it? It sounded rather like-
A little head appeared from underneath what appeared to be a very fine, but extremely oversized cloak. The head possessed an unruly mess of black hair and bright green eyes. Sirius' mouth fell open.
"Harry?" was Sirius' incredulous reply.
Well, there it was: The first chapter of my first fic.
Hopefully my readers will spare a minute or two to review, and at the same time give me any pointers if I went wrong anywhere.
Thanks for reading; I'll try to get the next chapter up without too much delay :o)