Darkness Falls
by TOR
Where once was light, now darkness falls.
Where once was love, love is no more.
Don't say goodbye / Don't say I didn't try.
These tears we cry are falling gray
For all the lies you told us,
The hurt, the blame
And we will wait to be so alone.
We are lost, we can never go home.
So in the end, I'll be what I will be.
No loyal friend was ever there for me.
Now we say goodbye / We say you didn't try.
These tears you cry have come too late.
Take back the lies,
The hurt, the blame.
And you will wait when you face the end alone.
You are lost, you can never go home.
You are lost, you can never go home.
Chapter One
Harry was sleeping on his bed when he heard the noise. His eyes popped open, and for a moment he wondered what had wakened him--especially from such a deep sleep. Aunt Petunia hadn't been satisfied until it seemed like every dish in the house had been rewashed twice. But as he lay there, he heard the noise again.
Footsteps, coming up the stairs.
Now, he knew for a fact that everyone slept upstairs at night, and Aunt Petunia, the only one aside from Harry who was capable of going down the steps without sounding like the house was about to collapse, took extra-heavy sleeping pills during the summer. She claimed she couldn't sleep under the same roof as him without them. So Aunt Petunia was in bed, and if either Dudley or Vernon were sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack, he'd have heard them going _downstairs earlier, not coming back upstairs now.
Cautious, but completely curious, Harry got off the bumpy thing the Dursleys tried to pass off as a bed, glad that it didn't squeak this time, and crept towards the door as quietly as he could. The door was shut, but not locked because the Dursleys now believed that anything that could be used against them would be by a certain godfather, who'd written them at the beginning of the summer, carefully explaining that Harry had gone through much over the school year and they were to take good care of him until school started again. Their idea of "good care" was to work Harry just as hard, but leave every opportunity open for him to sneak outside of the house, which would free them of the responsibility.
The stairs groaned again, and whoever was trying to sneak in was almost to the top. Harry opened his door carefully, making sure it didn't make any noise, and he peeked through the slit. In the darkness of the night, he could see absolutely nothing but a single glowing light, moonlight spilling in through the open door downstairs.
Who was it? Several suggestions immediately popped into his head, mostly from the end of the Triwizard Tournament, but Harry squashed them mercilessly. Dumbledore would never let him return to the Dursleys unless he was complete safe. Another idea, more realistic (and easier to deal with), was the idea that maybe someone had finally realized that, with all the company cars Vernon went through, he had to be fairly rich. Rich muggles attracted poor muggles, so maybe this was just another standard robbery.
Just for the extra luck, Harry hoped for this to be true, crossing his fingers. A muggle robber was easier to deal with than a mad Voldemort.
The snores of his uncle and cousin assured him that he was the only one awake, and the footsteps on the stairs stopped, as if the person was hesitating after an especially loud snore from Dudley's room. Harry used the time to open the door a bit more and squeeze through, hurrying to the bathroom with his knees bent.
Vernon hid a gun in the bathroom, above the mirror, but more importantly, he hid Harry's wand there. Harry had seen him through the stick up there, face white at the bare skin contact with the wand, but apparently, the Dursleys didn't want the possibility of Harry using the wand on them and had hidden it apart from the unlocked cupboard beneath the stairs, where all his other stuff were stacked. Grinning, Harry stood on the toilet and stretched to grab the thin reed, pulling it down and holding it ready as he backed out of the bathroom, a disarming spell going around in his mind.
He sneaked towards the stairs. If the Ministry found out, he could say that it was an emergency.
The darkness was no better now that he was facing the stairway; moonlight was very weak, almost to the point of being useless. Harry calmed himself once he realized that he was breathing very hard, very loudly, and his heart felt like it was trying to pop out of his chest. With the Triwizard Tournament done only weeks ago, he still found himself sometimes just remembering how it felt to be in the maze, running, trying to get to the middle first...
Harry shook his head, wishing the memory away, and the stairs groaned, refocusing his attention. For what seemed like an hour, Harry waited, sweating and wand ready, knowing that someone was out there. It felt like eyes were watching him. Finally, he grew tired of just waiting, so Harry dropped to his knees and crawled forward, wand still out. He felt like just screaming "Bloody murder!" and running for it, but he forced himself to peep over the banister.
The stairs were empty.
As if to prove it, they groaned again, the same step as last time. Not completely trusting himself, Harry peered further down and saw that the light he thought was pouring through an open door was really just slinking through the front room's windows, whose drapes Petunia had taken down to wash, drapes that needed to hang dry.
Sighing in relief, Harry backed up and leaned against a wall, burrowing his face in his hands. 'Relax,' he told himself. 'Just relax.'
Visions of Death Eaters, standing shoulder to shoulder to form a half-circle around him shattered that relaxation, and Harry swallowed tightly. Death Eaters...white masks; Dark Marks...a skeleton rising out of a cauldron...
"Stop it," he scolded aloud, feeling better at hearing something. "Stop it and just go back to bed." His feet felt reluctant to follow through, but he shakily got back up. After nearly tripping and breaking his head putting the wand back, Harry gave himself a firm shake, and stoutly walked back to his bedroom, determined that this be the last night he woke up to shadows and moonlight.
Closing the door behind him, he yawned, stretching as he stood before his bed, and his eyes idly wandered towards the corner were he knew, if it was light, there would be an empty owl stand. Ron would be writing back any day now, and Sirius as well. Yawning one more time, Harry felt out for the bed, lying down and pulling up raggedly sheets.
Just as he closed his eyes, he heard the breathing.
'You're imagining it,' Harry mentally shouted, forcing his own breathing to stay normal, his body to stay stretched out. He would not curl up in fear! He would not! 'There's no one there. You waited for an hour, and there was no one there.' Even so, his eyes clenched shut.
'There's no one there.' Cautiously, he opened his eyes, little slits trying to peer into the darkness and, of course, seeing nothing. He found himself stiffly getting up, unable to stop, and then acted as if he needed to get up anyway. 'Bathroom...get to the bathroom."
He walked through his room, awkwardly stumbling into things he knew were there, hands flaying out to keep from tripping. He could still hear the breathing, a great blast of air the raised the hair on his arms, and hurried all the faster. At the door, he fumbled for the doorknob, feeling eyes now on his back. The stupid wouldn't open!
'There's no one there. You're imagining things. Calm down--calm down!'
Abruptly, the room flooded with light, so quickly and so bright compared to the previous darkness that Harry wasted precious moments squinting in surprise, trying to get used to the floor of light. He looked around, panicking, but no one was there. Then he looked at one hand, blushing as he realized that he must have flipped the switch on.
'I knew there was no one here,' he hissed to himself, embarrassed at being so frightened when nothing was there. Even so, he examined the dingy room one more time before heaving a sigh of relief. 'Knew it.'
The door was unlocked, of course, though Harry had tried to turn it the wrong way. Chuckling at his foolishness, Harry opened the door slightly, peering out into the dark halls, then forcing another chuckle, trying to act casual. There was nothing to be afraid of, because there was nothing.
Shutting the door, Harry slid down it, throwing his head back against it. Two more months of this constant wondering, he thought bitterly, of thinking there was someone waiting for him. Would it even end at Hogwarts?
He was becoming as paranoid as Moody.
The wind outside slipped in through the open window, playing with his sweat-dampened hair, and he closed his eyes, truly relaxing in the sensation. There was no one there, and there was nothing there, and there was no reason for him to be nervous or jumpy. There was no one there...nothing...no reason...
Head dipping forward and lights still on, Harry drifted off to sleep.
There was a sound, and Harry's eyes popped open. He was leaning forward before he realized it, but not fast enough to keep from falling backwards when the door jerked open.
That was what the sound was: feet rushing up the stairs.
And now, Harry was lying on his back, staring into the face of a masked Death Eater, with two more looking down on him over that one's shoulders.
For a moment, no one moved, all too surprised at meeting the others to do anything. Than the Death Eater's wand was out, and reflectively, Harry threw his arm out. The Death Eater shouted, falling back as one of his knees buckled, and Harry was rolling.
His rolling stopped at the feet of one Headmaster Karkaroff.
Karkaroff looked extremely smug, and the last thing Harry saw was one of his legs rising up to kick out. Then something hit his head, and he blacked out.
Harry jerked awake, breathing fast and hard. He jerked so hard that his head his against the door. The closed door. Harry felt around him, then looked around with confusion, but the room was completely dark. Feeling stupid, Harry reached up and flipped the lights on, and still nothing was wrong.
'A...a dream?' But it was so real.
Harry shakily got up, flipping the lights off as he stumbled to the bathroom. Even if it was a dream, he'd feel better with his wand. But someone was in the bathroom, Dudley by the sounds of the grunts, and the smell sneaking from the crack beneath the door. Nose wrinkling, Harry shook his head, walking back to his bedroom.
'You're going crazy,' he chided himself, folding up on the bed. 'Imagining things...those dreams...' Giving himself a shake, Harry closed his eyes.
And immediately realized three things. One, he'd fallen asleep with the lights on. Two, there was no wind coming from the window. And three, he would have heard Dudley get up. Come to mention it, he could still hear his cousin's snores, and his uncle's as well.
And just as immediately, a voice whispered, "Petrificus Totulus."
'This is just another dream,' Harry swallowed in the darkness, unable to move. 'Just a dream...'
"You, Mister Potter, have been a pain tracking down," Karkaroff's voice cut in through the darkness, and a wand lit up faintly, tip glowing enough to cast shadow's on Karkaroff's face. "But I didn't really expect anything more, considering Dumbledore's protections."
If he could have moved, Harry would be screaming, eyes wide. As it was, his eyes merely grew larger.
Karkaroff grunted, shaking his head. "Oh no, don't be afraid, child. I'm not going to kill you." He laughed dryly. "At least, not yet. Now, up with you."
Harry's muscles moved against his will, stomping to the door of his room and yanking it open. Lining the stairway were at least a dozen robed bodies, but no one wore a white mask. Small relief, but relief anyhow. Harry stomped by them, wanting to growl at the smirks on their faces.
"Shall we leave now, my Lord?" one of them addressed Karkaroff. The headmaster nodded.
"But I will remain a moment longer. Prepare the cage."
The robed ones all nodded, kneeling as Karkaroff passed them down the hall, but then each abruptly changed into a series of creatures--animagi, Harry thought with disbelief--and took off scurrying away. Harry barely caught glances of things from rodents to snakes before Karkaroff ordered him to walk down the street. The summer breeze felt much colder, but Harry couldn't' control his body enough to even rub his arms for warmth.
They marched until three streets away, when Karkaroff turned and pointed his wand at Harry. "Now," the man was murmuring to himself quietly, "what was that spell again?" He remembered quickly enough, because soon the tip of that wand was glowing, then a light shot out and headed for Harry.
After that, the world turned into absolute chaos.
The whining was what made him turn his head. Sirius curiously looked around for the noise's source, and of course it came from just off the path to Hogwarts, just within the Forbidden Forest. Looking between the looming castle in the distance and the soft whine in the woods, Sirius sat on his haunches, scratched an ear, and then gave a doggish shrug before trotting off the path towards the whine.
There really wasn't any hurry in getting to Hogwarts, and his curiosity was just about to hang him by the nose.
His big, black paws left little in the way of tracks behind him, and he sniffed the air, tasting the scents only to find that the whiner was none other than a dog like himself. Well, not exactly a dog, Sirius corrected himself mentally as he trotted through the woods, huge paws easily gobbling up ground. It smelled like a dog, whatever it was, just a little off from what a dog would smell like.
What was a dog doing in the Forbidden Forest?
He didn't have much to go, but the day was so hot and running around in a black fur coat didn't help do much other than soak up the heat. If he had had the day to himself, Sirius would be lying on the cool, tiled floor of Remus's kitchen, panting to relieve himself of the heat while the werewolf handled matters of the Order. He would by lying there, cool as a bum, mentally laughing at all the wizards and witches gathered in the house who knew nothing of his true nature.
Instead, he found himself summoned to Hogwarts, running the distance from Remus's house to the castle because the house didn't have a fireplace and Sirius didn't have a wand just yet. And now, he found himself again sidetracked by a mysterious whine in the forest.
Brambles were sticking to his fur, and he growled low in the throat, deeply annoyed. Those were going to be an absolute joy, getting out. Good thing Remus wasn't there to laugh at him; he'd have turned around and bitten the man.
The whine was very loud now, and sounded tired. To human ears, it sounded like some creature was in pain. Hearing it, Sirius stopped short; he not only heard the pain, but he heard a deeper message. 'Stay away.' A desperate message. And whatever the creature was, it most definitely wasn't a dog.
'Maybe a fox,' Sirius absently thought, treading closer to the site. He could smell the blood now, mixing in with the scent of pain and fear... and a deep rage. 'Foxes are related to dogs.'
It was in a clearing that he saw the creature: a great, giant wolf-like thing, its snowy coat stained by crimson blood, and its huge teeth bared. Male, and very young, no matter what its size was. The wolf was almost double Sirius's size, but it still looked young.
It was alternating between full-throated whines and hackle-raising growls so low in its throat, the growls seemed to come from the earth itself. The reason was because of the four laughing wizards dressed in black with freakishly white masks donned. Sirius, seeing them, couldn't help but growl himself, but quietly, not wanting to give away the element of supply.
The wolf was trapped against a tree, one hind-foot dragging helplessly--it had to be broken--and one front paw looking like it had been mangled by a trap. The Death Eaters were lazily torturing it, sending bits of wood or dirt into the gaping wound in its side, and it would whine in agony before growl and attempt to back away.
Sirius dropped to his belly, panting and feeling heat besides the sun. He had no idea what the animal really was--it couldn't be just an ordinary wolf!--but anything the Death Eaters were trying to hurt was probably a good guy. He waited until they were immersed in sending a huge, fallen branch out in an attempt to gore the creature, then snapped to his feet. The growl in his throat was instinct, but they didn't hear it until he had leaped on one of the Death Eaters, jaws closing on his neck.
The other three gaped for a second, then shot a killing spell at him, but Sirius dropped and the spell hit the wizard instead. Not that it mattered; Sirius had already ripped the Death Eater's throat out. Dead was dead was dead.
Sirius jumped for another, this one screaming and throwing his arms over his face, leaving his stomach vulnerable. Blood tasted coppery. Living for almost a year on rats alone had forced Sirius to cope with that taste, and to cope for killing things with his jaws. The second Death Eater went down.
The spell that hit him wasn't the killing curse, but the Cruticus. He howled in pain, falling limp to the ground. Two down, two to go. Animal instincts took over, and Sirius wasn't aware of the foam coming out of his mouth as he turned bloody eyes to the wizard causing him such pain.
The two remaining gave a start at the sight of him, rage-crazed creature, but he couldn't have moved three steps by himself under the curse. Shuddering, body racked by pain-caused twitches, Sirius felt like his mind was getting pressed under an enormous weight, and his growls subsided into whimpers.
The Death Eaters didn't laugh, too shaken by the sudden death of their two comrades, and too focused on torturing the dog that they didn't see the great white mass hit them until one was dead and the other lay dying.
The curse cut off instantly, but Sirius couldn't stop shaking. He scrunched his eyes shut, feeling a blinding light even through the eyelids. It took a few minutes to get his breath under control, then more to stop the twitching, and after what seemed an hour, Sirius managed to relax his muscles. Forbidden curses ought to be forgotten and done with! His body felt... felt like the sensation that could never be described after suffering the pain curse.
Something sniffed at him, then whined at him, and a cold nose pressed against his side, trying to roll him over. Sirius growled, not in any mood to move, and the pushing stopped but the whining grew louder. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Sirius saw the icy yellow eyes of the wolf looking back to him not an inch away. Opening eyes more, he saw the blood trail where the wolf dragged itself to attack the two Death Eaters, then dragged itself to his side.
Seeing him awake, the wolf wagged its tail and licked its nose in self-satisfaction before trying to get up. It collapsed to one side, but then forced wobbling legs to support its weight, the broken leg lying limp. Sirius copied the movement, getting up and shaking the lasting effects of the curse off. Aside from that one hit, he was all right. Happy, he barked at the retreating wolf, easily catching up to its slow stride.
It glanced at him, uninterested, and started going again, growling when Sirius tried to stop it.
Barking, Sirius tried to convey his message. 'Follow me.'
The wolf hesitated, then growled deeper when Sirius butted heads, baring its teeth. Sirius backed off immediately, setting back on his haunches to watch as the wolf tried to keep going. It only lasted a minute or so before it tottered over, collapsing to the ground. Sirius winced, imagining the pain the wolf had to be in. Looking around, he decided and changed back.
The wolf had lost itself in pain, so much so that when human hands reached around to pick it up, it only managed a low and weak growl.
The wolf was heavy, but from the feel of ribs beneath heavy fur, not nearly as heavy as it should have been. Sirius hefted it to one shoulder, then started back his way to Hogwarts. He hadn't saved it from the Death Eaters just to let it die of its wounds, and Dumbledore would be interested to learn why Death Eaters were tormenting Forest creatures.
Passing by several dead Death Eaters on his way out of the Forbidden Forest, Sirius nearly dropped the wolf. All had died by ways of sharp teeth.
Yes, Dumbledore would probably be very interested in this creature who had probably killed more Death Eaters in this forest than any of the Order had since the war began again.