A/N: Hello Fan fiction community! This is the first installment of my new series. I promise to update as often as I can. I have big plans for this fic (smiles evilly). This is going to be fun...Just so you know; this is AU after 5th year. Sirius is still alive. This starts in the middle of Harry's summer before 6th year

Disclaimer: The idea, characters, and practically everything else Harry Potter belongs to one person and one along: JK Rowling. If you did not know this, you have no right to lay eyes on any words concerning Harry Potter.

With Sun Comes Shadow

Chapter 1

An Appointment with Death

Not a sound penetrated the thick silence that had fallen upon Privet Drive with the night. It was absolutely quiet. Yet suddenly, a young teenager, Harry Potter, sat up straight in his bed in house number 4, senses alert. He sat stock-still, listening for the opening of a door, the swishing of a cloak around a corner, soft footsteps—anything. When no sound met his ears, Harry lay back down, letting go the breath he'd been holding.

Despite the fact that it was 1:30 in the morning, Harry had been lying awake for quite some time. He hadn't been able to get much sleep lately. Several weeks had passed since the Department of Mysteries incident, but thoughts and emotions ran wild in Harry's head. This was evident from the dark circles under his eyes and his even-messier-than-normal hair. The already scrawny boy had grown considerably thinner, as well, part of it being because of his rations set by his relatives, and also because of the haunting thoughts that took up his brain. He watched as a shadow gradually faded from the wall as the moon reappeared from behind a cloud. If Harry could sleep, he would. If only he didn't have nightmares every time he tried to rest, or even let his thoughts wander for a moment. But it didn't matter anyway, since his thoughts revolved around the same things while he was awake. They always came back to the same things. Sirius had nearly died because of him. If it hadn't been for Harry's seeker reflexes taking control, Sirius would have been hit by the killing curse, never to take a breath again.

But it had come at a cost, as all things do in Harry Potter's life. As Harry had gone to push his godfather away from the curse (much to the anger of Remus and Sirius for the 'danger' he had put himself in), Harry had shoved him toward the mysterious veil. Time had seemed to stand still, Harry fearing that he would be the killer of his godfather. He could still recall that raw, uncontrolled fear that had gripped his heart for several long moments. But fortune had been on his side that night. Sirius did not fall through the veil, and Harry had gripped his heart and nearly felt like crying in relief. But there were consequences…oh, how there are always consequences…Several of Sirius' fingers on his left hand had grazed the veil, and were now charred and lifeless.

Harry groaned. How could he be so stupid? If he was going to save someone, he could at least to it right. After receiving a few serious talks about leaping in front of life-threatening curses by his parental figures (Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, take your pick), and even some of his friends (mostly Hermione, of course, and even a little from an exasperated Ron), Sirius had assured him that it was really alright to have a few immobile fingers—"better than being dead!" At this thought, Harry grimaced. The pain of losing Sirius would be…unbearable. He loved Sirius like a father, held him close like a friend, and bonded with him like a brother, all at once. And on top of all that, he was the closest one to resembling a parent in his mind. Without him…life wouldn't be the same. Of course, Harry realized that he'd lived without Sirius for at lease eleven years of his life, but…it's like getting a taste of chocolate cake, and being told you're not able to eat the rest. It's impossible.

There were also memories of possession running through thoughts. Voldemort taking full control of his mind had been…excruciating. His head had been ready to burst with the presence of more souls than it could handle. Fighting Voldemort inside himself had been the most painful experience of Harry's life. A sensation equal to white hot knives piercing his skin from the inside out had engulfed his entire body. He could feel the two souls battling within him, racking his body with spasms.

Presently, Harry shuddered at the memory. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep, he could hear Voldemort's cruel hiss inside his own head, telling Dumbledore to kill him. The part that scared Harry the most was—he had agreed with him. The pain had been so terrible; Harry thought it was be better to just end it all. Now, he was grateful that it hadn't, but…at that time, it was the only thought that kept him sane—that it would be over in a few moments. He hadn't told anyone about the possession yet, for a reason he wasn't really sure of himself. Dumbledore knew, of course, but Harry knew he would wait to release that information until Harry was ready. When this was, he didn't know. If it ever came up, he supposed he would mention it to—

Again, Harry shot straight up in his bed, losing his train of thought. He was sure of it this time—there was some sort of noise coming from downstairs. Was it the closing of a door this time? Quietly, with his pulse thumping in his veins, Harry leaned over the side of his bed and pulled up the loose floorboard. From the gap, he removed his wand and a flashlight that he'd stolen from Dudley's extra room before it had been made into Harry's bedroom, then replaced the board. He crept up to the door of his room, looking out into the darkness of the house.

There! The kitchen light flickered on. Harry was positive it had been off only several hours ago. In what seemed like forever, he descended the stairs, keen on keeping the element of surprise on his side, and skipping all the squeaky steps. Was it a Death Eater, or an Order member? Harry knew that the Order kept watch on him; he had seen their shadows as he'd walked to the park everyday, or did his chores outside. But never had they been inside the Dursley's house…The short walk to the kitchen door from the base of the stairs seemed to lengthen immensely, and Harry relaxed for a second upon reaching the door.

Then, with a sweaty palm from the anticipation, he took hold of the doorknob and twisted it as silently as possible. With agility gained from years of dodging his relatives' blows and honed from Quiddich practice, Harry slunk into the semi-lit room. Only one of the three lighting fixtures in the room was on, giving the kitchen a slight orange glow. From the little light there was, Harry could see a tall, dark-haired man in a black cloak facing away from him on the opposite side of the room. In one swift movement, Harry aimed his flashlight and wand at the intruder and switched the flashlight on.

"Did you really think it would be easy if you snuck in when it was dark?" Harry hissed venomously, waiting for the reaction it would cause.

The figure spun around to face him, his cloak spinning around him, a look of surprise on his face. His dark hair was long and somewhat matted down. His eyes flickered from the wand in Harry's hand to his face. Then, as the initial shock started to wear off, his features became more recognizable.

Harry blinked. "Sirius?"

"Yeah, it's me, kiddo," the intruder beamed.

There was something about Sirius' smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but Harry decided to investigate that later. "What are you doing here?" He began to move towards him.

"I'm on Order business. Just making sure all the wards are up." Harry could have sword an almost evil glint passed through his eyes at that moment. But then it was gone, leaving Harry wondering if it was just a trick of the light.

However, he wasn't about to let it go. All the time he'd spent in Mad-Eye Moody's presence had taught him to be constantly vigilant for Death Eaters or any shady characters. Harry stopped in his tracks on his way over to Sirius and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"…How do I know it's really you?"

Sirius' smile dropped a fraction—it dropped so little, in fact, that the average person would have seen no difference what-so-ever. Since when was Harry average, though?

"Well…let me prove it to you," Sirius said after a moment.

The glint flashed across his eyes again—a glint that didn't belong in his godfather's features. This person—whoever they were—was not Sirius Black. Harry didn't have to think too hard to guess who it might be, and judging by that particular malice that seemed to gleam in his eyes, he had a very good assumption. Time to put it to the test.

"Alright. What so-called 'pureblood' family are you unfortunate enough to share a family tree with?"

Something new shone in Sirius' blue orbs—fury. Harry was on the right track. Now for the proof.

"Oh, well that would be the Malfoys, of course," Sirius replied coldly, in a voice that certainly didn't belong to him.

Gotcha.

Harry wasn't sure who fired the curse first, but all at once there were red flashes of light barreling towards both wizards. The supposed 'Sirius' dodged it jerkily, realizing what was happening at the last second. Harry tumbled out of the way gracefully, having expected it, but none the less felt the heat of the spell as he leaped over it. As he righted himself, he shot an Expelliarmus at his godfather,' who offhandedly waved it away. There was a pause in the battle.

"So, Lucius, still alive? I wouldn't have thought your master that merciful," Harry jeered.

Lucius/Sirius scowled. "How dare you soil the name of the Dark Lord with your mudblood tongue?! Was it so obvious I wasn't your mangy mutt of a godfather?

Harry blinked in surprise. Did this mean the Death Eaters knew about Sirius' animagus form? …Or had that been an empty insult? Did they have Sirius?

Lucius used this moment of distraction to send a curse flying Harry's way. Before he could even comprehend the jet of orange light pummeling through the air at him, the spell connected with Harry's torso, sending him soaring into the kitchen door.

Harry winced. It was not just from the pain (which hurt like hell, by the way), but for another reason as well. When Harry had collided with the door, it had been open (which did nothing to soften the blow). As the momentum had carried Harry backwards, the door could not stop him, so the door slammed back into its frame with a resounding BANG. What was once a private duel…would soon become a circus.

Harry vaguely wondered who would get there first: Aurors, for the use of illegal magic (and a violent use of it, at that); Order members, because Harry was surely in danger; or Uncle Vernon, for waking up the house, doing magic, and having another 'freak' in the house. There was really no doubt about it—Uncle Vernon would be there in a matter of seconds. Harry would have preferred the Aurors—even if he did have a bad history with the Ministry.

As if on cue, the house began to tremble as deep, quick quakes shook the house, which Harry recognized as his Uncle's footsteps. Lucius/Sirius looked around, confused at what was causing the disruption in his concentration. Silently, Harry slid away from the door, and very slowly (due to the bruises forming on his back and head) stood up, using the wall as support. Moments later, the kitchen door was thrust open so fiercely that it was knocked off its hinges and sent flying clear across the room. Lucius/Sirius stared with remote fascination and interest at Harry's now maroon uncle, who was practically bubbling with rage.

For a minute, Uncle Vernon seemed to take in the intruder, Harry leaning against the wall, and the door on the floor. Then, he spoke.

"Boy, what is going ON IN HERE?!"

He'd started in a low growl, but obviously didn't think it was menacing enough, because he ended in a roar. Without another second's hesitation, Vernon Dursley lunged at his nephew, hands outstretched; a look of ferocity on his face. Harry quickly jumped to the side, crashing his hip into the kitchen counter (another bruise to add to the list. That was going to hurt later…), and grabbed hold of it to stay upright. But with no need. When he turned to see where his uncle would be attacking from next, Harry found him lying face down on the kitchen tile, unconscious. He looked questioningly up into the smirking face of Lucius/Sirius. Did Lucius just help him?

"I felt that was a job for my Lord and I, and not to be done a moment sooner than we can get our hands on you."

Lucius/Sirius' hair had begun to lengthen and regain its white-blonde color. His pointed, sneering face was nearly back to normal, as well. The polyjuice potion he was using to assume Sirius' identity obviously wasn't made to last very long. This made a sudden anger flare inside of Harry. Voldemort had thought it'd be an easy capture; he'd send one of his followers to get Harry, and they'd be back within the hour. Did they ever learn? Honestly…Harry looked back up at Lucius with a new determination.

The two stared at each other for a few moments, daring each other to make a move. Just as Harry 's fingers twitched to move his wand and cast a stunner spell, there was a soft sound of a doorknob being turned coming from down the hallway. When the person outside the front door obvious couldn't get it that easily, they could hear the doorknob being turned fiercely, then someone trying to break door down. From where Lucius and Harry stood, they could hear someone shouting spells at the front door, to no success. What was going on? Were there more Death Eaters to help in his capture?

Lucius' smirk spread across his face. "Looks like those wards I was checking work."

"What do you mean?" Harry snapped. What had Lucius done? Was the Order out there?

"Why, little Harry, I thought you were smarter than that. You can figure out how to kill a basilisk, but you cannot understand what I have done? Tsk tsk. You really should stop doing all these death defying stunts and go to your classes."

"What. Did. You. Do." Harry asked through clenched teeth. He had no patience for Lucius' little games.

"Temper now," Lucius scolded, wagging his finger at Harry mockingly. "Let me spell it out for you—I put up my own wards. Wards that won't permit your little Order friends to enter the house." Lucius opened his arms wide in a signifying gesture. "They made it all too easy for my Lord to get to you. Now, be a good boy and come with me. You have an appointment with Death."

The person outside the door pounded their fists against the wood, apparently as a last resort, and their shouting crescendoed. Harry thought he heard several more voices there now, knowing for a fact that Remus and Sirius were some of the loudest ones shouting out there, being able to depict their voices from the rest. Narrowing his eyes at Lucius, Harry barked his retort.

"I've already met him. He just keeps sending me back. REDUCTO!"

Harry aimed his wand at the wall behind Lucius. The wall exploded outward, sending debris flying in all directions. Sidestepping the curse, Lucius had no time to react as a large chunk of the wall landed on his left arm, bringing him to his knees. In a fit of rage, he lifted his good arm and bellowed, "CRUCIO!" Every fiber of his being was filled with loathing and anger towards the Boy Who Lived.

Harry collapsed almost instantly in white hot pain. 'Don't scream, that's what he wants,' was coursing through his mind. As much as he was determined not to scream, he was sorely tempted as the pain built with each passing second. A scream began to form in the back of his throat, but Harry firmly bit down on his lip to keep it there. An eternity passed in what must have been a minute and a half, the house wall still crumbling no less than twenty feet from him. He couldn't take it anymore. Harry's back arched and he released an anguished yell—and then it was over.

The curse had been lifted, and he lay on the ground, panting and trembling. 'That was pretty impressive for Lucius' Harry couldn't help but think. With a grim smile, he looked up into his torturer's eyes, anger and determination evident on his face. If Lucius or Voldemort thought they'd be able to take Harry down without a fight, they were remarkable dense. Aunt Marge had made the same mistake, and look what happened to her.

"What is it you want, Malfoy?" Harry sighed, exasperated, shaking his head.

"I want you dead," Lucius answered, titling his head slightly to the side, as though what he said was obvious. "But in the meantime, I want to take you to the Dark Lord, where the deed will…eventually be done."

Harry did not like the way Lucius emphasized the word 'eventually' at all. He was beginning to get worried. His head was throbbing painfully from his earlier encounter with the door, the rest of him was sore from being under the cruciatus curse, and his sight was coming in and out of focus. The last part might or might not have had something to do with the fact that his glasses were cracked and covered with dust from the crumbling wall. It was a chore in itself to keep himself awake much longer. Would he make it out?

Just then, several people came running around the side of the house, and more apparated behind them. Lucius turned around at the sound of muffled footsteps in the grass and distinct pops. He returned his gaze to Harry with a disappointed groan, like that of a child that had to stop his game to come to dinner.

"We will have to continue this later—and believe me, we will finish this. Death's embrace will welcome you kindly. After all, you've had a reserved spot on 'the other side' for sixteen years. For now, I will leave you and the Order with a souvenir of my visit."

Faster than Harry could have imagined, Lucius whipped his wand out in front of him and shouted the cutting curse. With wide eyes, Harry watched the blaze of light ram into him, and collapsed onto the kitchen counter with a yell of pain. Sharp, invisible knives were slicing into his flesh all over his body. He clutched his chest in agony, leaning over the kitchen counter, and felt warm liquid flow over his arms. How could he go down so easily? He needed to fight back! Showing pain only gave Lucius, and in the long run, Voldemort, pleasure. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to block out the pain. Just when his resolve was about to crack, the spell ended abruptly.

Consciousness was an impossible feat now. Amazingly, he was still standing. Harry opened his eyes wearily and saw Lucius disappear in a swish of his cloak. Sirius and Remus came sprinting through the giant hole in the wall and screeched to a halt. Through a red haze, Harry could see their wide, frantic eyes take in all the surroundings. When their gaze came to rest on Harry, identical looks of horror and urgency took over their faces and they were on the move in an instant. Before Harry could blink, both of them were by his side, each holding onto a shoulder to keep Harry upright.

"HARRY! What happened! Are you alright?!" Sirius yelled unnecessarily, since Harry was right next to him.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, to tell them it was Lucius, that he was fine (like always)…but he was too tired. Sirius and Remus grabbed hold of Harry as he slumped forward, unconscious.

A/N: Well, there's chapter one! Next chapter is going to be this same scene—but from REMUS' point of view! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed thinking it up. If you loved or hated it, let me know. There's a little button below that lets you leave reviews. DO IT! Love yaw!