A/N: Ok, I suck at writing serious stories. So, here's a crack fic. The plot bunny kept hopping on my head and wouldn't leave me alone. Annoying fucker. Anyway, we all know Sirius Black is too awesome to die. I've been inspired by several stories, especially Sarah1281's Oh God Not Again! Anyway, if you don't recognize a bunch of the people that appear in this chapter, I feel very very sorry for you because you have lived such a deprived existence. In fact, if you don't know Jimi Hendrix, or Jerry Garcia, you probably should just stop reading now, because you just aren't gonna get it.
Disclaimer: I would LOVE to own Harry Potter. Sadly, all I own is a bunch of Kiyoharu CD's and a Korean copy of a PRS guitar. . So... yeah, I don't own Harry Potter.
Sirius Black was sitting in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, nursing a hangover and a bottle of firewhiskey… because, you know, it's 5 o clock somewhere. 'I wonder how Harry is doing,' he thought. It had been several months since Sirius gave Harry the old two-way mirror; he'd yet to hear from him. A part of him kind of wished that his godson would open it already and let him in on all the mischief he SHOULD be getting up to. The Twin Terrors, (aka Fred and George Weasley) had shown him a pensieve memory of their rather spectacular exit from Hogwarts; Sirius did declare at that moment that in his day, he couldn't have done finer. Portable Swamps, oh the things the Marauders could have done with that caliber of pranking product…
Just as Sirius was about to have himself another shot, Snivellus himself popped his greasy head into the Floo. It always astounded the old dog when he did that; shouldn't his greasy head catch fire?
"Come to gloat again, slimeball?" Sirius asked. It may have come out rather slurred, seeing as Sirius did drink his way through half a bottle of Ogden's.
"No, Black, I have more important things to do. Were you aware of the fact that your dearly beloved godson thinks you are being held captive by the Dark Lord in the Ministry of Magic?" Snape asked.
Sirius cocked his head and tried to scratch behind his ear with his foot. He then remembered he wasn't a dog at the moment.
"Hey, Moony, c'mere… Snivelly's saying I'm supposed to be a prisoner in the Ministry…" he shouted. A loud clattering came from upstairs as the unfortunately sober Remus Lupin made his way to the kitchen.
"He what? What? WHAT?" Remus asked, rushing into the kitchen out of breath.
"I said, Potter thinks Black is being held prisoner by You-Know-Who in the Ministry of Magic. And unless that thing over there is a golem, he's walking into a trap." Snape repeated. He did not sound pleased at all.
"Shit, man…" Sirius muttered as the circumstances began to sink into his head.
"So… rescue mission?" Remus asked as Snape's head disappeared from the Floo.
"Fuck me sideways…"
It was a rather cold day in hell when Sirius Mothafuckin Black waltzed his way through the Veil. Having pirouetted into hell, he took a look around. Everywhere, little winged black imps were skating around on cute little ice skates; a bunch of naked people were chained up and frosted over. In the distance, one could see tall graceful towers that rose above a city of darkness.
"Well, fuck me. I think I'm in hell." He muttered. "And it seems to have frozen over."
"That you are, that you are." Came a voice from behind him. Sirius spun around. His jaw dropped.
"JIMI HENDRIX?" Had it been possible to shit bricks, Sirius would have a bunch in his pants right then.
The legendary guitarist nodded. "Yeah, man, I'm Jimi Hendrix. And you're in hell. Actually, this is heaven for rock stars…"
Sirius's eyes bulged out. "So, I'm in HEAVEN? But… How?"
"All legendary rock stars get to go here when they die. The little demons don't bother us; some of them are pretty chill fellas, actually." Hendrix replied. A couple of demons glided past them, waving cheerfully. Hendrix raised the peace sign at them. "The sky's made of LSD, and the snow is made of, well, snow, and Mary Jane grows on every tree, man… it's awesome!"
"So… I'm dead then?" Sirius asked, confused. He was pretty sure he saw Kurt Cobain snorting some of the snow.
"Nah, you, not really… Hey, did I mention, when the cops pull you over for drunk driving, they don't give you tickets?"
Sirius was confused. "I'm not? They don't?"
"Yea, you're not dead… and they give you a blowjob instead, man…" Hendrix lit a cigarette, and waved to Jerry Garcia, who was eating a burger.
Sirius scrunched up his face in concentration. "Wait, so if I'm not dead, and this is heaven for rock stars, why am I here?"
Hendrix looked at him solemnly. "You're on a quest, man. What were you up to before you took a rocket dive through that veil over there?"
"Rescuing my godson… But what does that have to do with the price of dragon eggs in France?" Sirius replied, scratching his head.
"Well, you see… you ain't supposed to be dead. So, since you're here, the Prince of Darkness would like to have a chat with you, and help you out a bit on your quest… and maybe on Harry's too." Hendrix said. The cogs in Sirius's head began to turn… slowly.
"Hey… where can I find this Prince of Darkness guy?" he asked.
"Bout a day's walk, a couple hours ride dependin on how fast you go." Hendrix said, pointing down the hill towards a tall round tower in the distance.
"What do you guys ride around here?" Sirius asked, confused.
"Whatever you need, here, it'll be right where you need it…" Hendrix replied. A joyous glint came into the old Marauder's eyes.
"YEE-HAAW!"
Sirius's cheers and the roar of an engine echoed through hell, drowning out the screams of the tortured souls. (Which, you know, was an accomplishment, considering the fact that this was good old hell, and there was quite a few tortured souls screaming at any given point in time.) He flew down the hill at record speeds, astride a shiny Harley-Davidson with huge devil wings.
The tower of the Prince of Darkness was coming close fast. Sirius was just about to hit the brakes when he hit a road bump… or a tortured soul. (Same thing, really.) The motorcycle, and Sirius with it, went flying into the air and crashed through the highest window of the tower.
And, thus, Sirius found himself lying in a heap on a plush polar bear rug. A dark shadow sat in a throne-like chair by the fireplace.
"Welcome, young Sirius. Lead singer of the Hobgoblins, am I right?" the shadow said.
"Yeah, it's been a while since our last show, I was hoping we could have a reunion tour soon though… Hey, wait a minute! How do you know my name?" Sirius asked, looking up.
The shadow chuckled. "Oh, I know a great many things, young Sirius. I know what you left behind, and I know why you are here… I am the one you are looking for."
"This isn't a pickup line, right? Cause, it kinda sounds like one." Sirius replied nervously.
The shadow laughed again. Then he leaned forward into the light.
Sirius fell to his knees, bowing to the figure. "OZZY FUCKING OSBOURNE. HOLY FUCK. I am not worthy, I am not worthy," he muttered, astonished as fuck.
Ozzy Osbourne was gazing down on him in amusement. Possibly. Because, no one knows what the Prince of Darkness is really thinking.
After Sirius was done with his worshipping, and settled into a comfy armchair, a knock sounded at the door.
"Enter!" Ozzy Fucking Osbourne said. A really hot demon chick in a French maid outfit walked in, carrying a tray with a teapot, two cups, and a mysterious shaking box.
"Your tea and live bats, my lord," she said, curtsying deeply. Sirius stared at her impressive boobs, entranced.
Ozzy cleared his throat, managing to get half of Sirius's attention back to him. "You coming here, was an act of fate itself. Your godson needs your help desperately. Are you familiar with the prophesy? And would you like some tea?"
Sirius turned back to Ozzy, now that the hot chick had left the room. "James and Lily told me about it, just before they went into hiding. Marked as an equal, has to off Moldyshorts, the works." He replied. "And, yes please, that would be lovely."
Ozzy nodded. "Yes, that's the one. Now, there is a mention in the prophesy, of the Power the Dark Lord knows not. Any guess what that may be, Sirius?"
Sirius thought carefully. "Well… Dumbledore says it's probably Love with a capital L, but I dunno… what's Harry going to do, snog him to death? Now there's a fate worse than death…"
Ozzy winced, then bit the head off of a bat and began to chew. They stayed silent for a while, Sirius sipping tea. Finally, Ozzy spoke.
"Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?" he asked.
"Of course I have!" Sirius replied. "I'm a Black, aren't I? Even if I'm a disowned one…"
Ozzy interrupted him. "Voldemort made seven. Write this down, I ain't gonna repeat myself." A pad of paper and a pen floated out and whacked Sirius on the head.
"Oww! Did you have to do that?" Sirius asked, rubbing the back of his head as he prepared to write.
"The horcruxes are as follows… A locket of Slytherin, which is in your mangy old house elf's cupboard."
"What? Why does Kreacher have a Horcrux?" Sirius asked, looking up from the notepad.
"Your brother stole one from Voldemort. This is why he was killed." Ozzy replied. "Now, next one is in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault… the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Always thought Hufflepuff was a weird name myself, like a brand of bloody marshmallows or something."
Sirius snorted with laughter, writing down the marshmallows part as well.
Ozzy looked thoughtful. "After that we've got Ravenclaw's diadem, that's off in the Room of Requirement in the Hiding Place; ask your godson on how to get in there. And, also, in Little Hanglefuck, in the old Gaunt house, there's a ring. Don't put that bloody thing on, just burn down the whole damn thing with fiendfyre. Got it?"
Sirius nodded. "Locket, cup, marshmallows, diadem, ring… that's only four."
"Right. Then, one Harry already got rid of by accident. Nasty thing it was, one of the first Voldemort made. A diary, made to open the Chamber of Secrets with."
"A diary?" Sirius asked. "Ok, that's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. What kind of a bloody dark lord keeps a diary? That decreases any awesomeness levels by thirty percent at least!"
Ozzy nodded. "Indeed. This is why you and Harry MUST destroy him. A dark lord with a bloody diary is just wrong, man. Ok, also, there's a pet snake he has, the one that bit that chap Arthur Weasley last Christmas… Cut its head off, I suppose. And the last one is your godson."
"Diary, snake, godson… wait WHAT! How is that possible?" It was probably a good thing that shitting bricks is physically impossible; otherwise, today would have filled Sirius's trousers with enough bricks to build a second Hogwarts.
"When Voldemort attacked the Potters that Halloween, his soul was very frayed and worn. The soul fragment accidentally detached itself and latched onto Harry's new scar."
"How can we take it out?" Sirius asked, feeling a panic rise within him. "The only ways I know of destroying Horcruxes is fiendfyre, basilisk venom, or exposure to dementors…"
"Or the killing curse." Ozzy helpfully suggested.
"Don't be ridiculous! I'm not going to kill my godson!" Sirius shouted.
"Calm down, princess… I ain't done yet…" Ozzy said lazily, chewing on yet another bat. Sirius tried to calm down and imagine that each bat is Snivellus in animagus form. That seemed to help a bit.
"Now then…" Ozzy continued, "The thing is, you've gotta use the power the dark lord knows not to destroy the Horcruxes. The power the Dark Lord knows not will leave your godson alive."
"Love?" Sirius asked, frowning.
"Fuck no, mate. Love? What's he gonna do, send Voldemort a bleedin Valentine?" Ozzy said, laughing. "Naw… that ain't the power the Dark Lord knows not at all. Now, do you wanna guess what it is?"
Sirius thought for a moment. "Bat eating?" He asked hopefully.
Ozzy shook his head ruefully. "No… Sirius… The power the Dark Lord knows not… it's heavy metal, man. Just blast metal at the damn Horcrux until it explodes, then it's gone."
"Heavy metal?" Sirius asked, scribbling it down.
"Yup, man, heavy metal." Ozzy said, nodding. "Oh, don't tell that bloody meddlesome fucker Albus anything. I've got a nice pair of manacles for him right next to Gellert, alright…"
"So… I gotta go back?"
"Yeah… Just down that highway, you'll get out where you came from… it's only been a few minutes topside, you ain't missed nothing…"
Sirius got up to leave when Ozzy stopped him. "Oh yeah… You can keep the bike."
It was a very happy Sirus Black that made his way down Hell Highway 1.
Just as Harry was about to go after Sirius into the Veil, fighting against Remus, a rumbling shook the whole room. The dueling wizards and witches looked around in fright; it was almost akin to an earthquake, except, there wasn't any earthquakes in London. The curtains of the Veil began to shake violently. Bellatrix stopped laughing like a crazy bitch.
Suddenly, there was a blast of light, and an explosion. The rumbling of a motor filled the room, as Sirius Black came back into the world of living.
"Honey, I'm home!" he quipped.
One of the masked figures dropped his wand.
"But... but... you fell in! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!" Bellatrix shrieked. Sirius shrugged, got off his bike and propped it against the gateway. Then he turned back to Bellatrix.
"Shall we continue, cousin dear?" he asked. Bellatrix scowled.
"Avada Kedavra!" she shrieked. Sirius dodged the green light. The duels resumed around the room, with the Order now having the upper hand, bolstered by Sirius's glorious defeat of the drapery.
Sirius raised his wand high to the sky and brought it down, letting loose a sharp crack and smoke. Fires began sprouting up randomly under Bella's feet. She had to jump quite a bit to avoid getting burned. Sirius followed up with a series of giant tranfigured stones that rolled at her, and nearly squished everyone.
"Hey, cool! Death Eater bowling!" he yelled. Remus took the time from his duel to facepalm at that.
The battle continued much in that line of action. Voldemort, showing up unexpectedly, nearly got ran over by one of the stone balls. Which, naturally, pissed him the fuck off. So, he started shooting off Avada Kedavras left and right. Which, of course, prompted a speedy entrance from one Albus Dumbledore.
Cue that beautiful bean footage.
Finally, after much ado, and possessing of innocent godsons that shouldn't have happened, Voldemort decided to take his crazy bitch and fuck off. Of course, this left all the Death Eaters (sans Bellatrix) stuck in the Aurors's anti-apparition ward.
After that night, Cornelius Fudge really couldn't deny that Voldemort wasn't back. Or that Sirius wasn't innocent. (At least, of the crime he was accused of.)
Following a busy night full of inane questions (such as, "Wait, how is he back again? Wasn't he dead? You mean, you WEREN'T working for Voldemort? Where are my pants?"), a slew of arrests, and a pardon signed with much consternation, they were all free to go.
"Come on, kiddo, let's go home." Sirius said, putting an arm around a tired Harry's shoulder. "We've got a lot of stuff to talk about."
Harry looked at him. "But... I'm supposed to go back to Hogwarts..."
Sirius stared at his godson incredulously. "You're saying, you WANT to go back to Hogwarts right now?"
"Well, no... but..."
"Then, no buts. Let's go home. I'm a free man now, and I sure as hell could use a burger."
Godson and dogfather got onto the motorcycle, and drove off into the rising sun.
A/N: I'll try to have the second chapter up asap, or the plot bunny will kill me. Those fuckers are vicious.
Please remember to review! :D