"Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence." by Leonardo da Vinci

It was a colder night, the winds of autumn slipping into the muggle British suburb. The Longbottom house was much like every house, on the outside; but inside, it was full of magic. Somehow, it always smelled heavenly and stayed clean. It seemed like something good was always happening there. Laughter rang throughout the house anytime they had company over, and the atmosphere was so infectious that even the stony face of Severus Snape had once smiled there… however, that was before the war had truly started, and sides had been taken.

The laughter of two children now filtered down the stairs of cottage and into the living room where Alice and Frank Longbottom were argueing. Many things had changed with the war.

"We have to leave, Frank." Alice insisted. Her short dark hair a mess and she was still in her pajamas. There was an envelope opened hastily on the coffee table, and an owl expecting treats in the window, bringing in cold air to the already frigid room.

Frank was taller than her, but he was sitting on the couch. He looked very tired much like his wife; except he wasn't tired with worry as Alice was, he was tired of everything. The war. The endless fighting. The politics. Having his family in constant danger.

"No, we stand our ground. It hasn't been confirmed yet."

The letter in his hands said: "He knows - Peter." That was all. The owl was from the death eaters as well, well bred with shimmering onyx feathers. They knew.

Alice shivered. The wards had sensed a vistor. Lily Evans and an unknown.

"I'm not letting my child die, Frank!" Alice's voice was stern, but also trembled with a note of panic. She turned into the hallway to march up the stairs and confront Lily and her guest about apparating into someone's house without permission.

A dark shadowy figure was standing in the hall. Alice hadn't heard or seen the figure enter, she hadn't felt it come through the wards either. The cloaked figure had hidden its face beneath a cloak she thought. Then, he came into the light of the living room's archway. Alice felt as though she couldn't breath, as if too much blood was running to her head but also quickly throughout her body. She began to sweat and collapsed to the floor.

"Alice?" Frank's voice came from the other room. "Alice? Alice?!"

A screech came up from second floor.

The dark lord muttered. There was a flash of green light. Then Frank entered the hall, and Alice was dead. Her eyes frozen wide, the moment of perfect panic etched into her face.

There was no time for him to mourn. Frank raised his wand towards the shadow heading up the stairs. He ran for it, hitting the sharp edge of the railing at the top of stairs. The children were no longer laughing. He felt nothing.

Green light was flickering under the door, there was shout.

Frank flung open the door. The shadowy figure, the dark lord, stood opposite a woman with red hair. The window to the room was open.

"Lily…" He breathed, the green was forming at the top of the Dark Lord's wand. Neville, his son, wasn't there. Lily's son, Harry was quiet, a twinkle in his eyes. Frank meet the little boy's gaze.

He jumped in front of the curse, the green fire enveloping his body and not Harry's.

A madwoman apparated into the room, her long black mess of curls shaking with her effort to keep from the kill. The shadow seemed to smirk and turned to the boy again. His loyal servant would take care of the red-haired girl. He muttered the killing curse, in a deep, soothing, almost inaudible tone. The prophecy was about this boy, the boy who would kill him.

Lily shrieked out, blasting the other woman into a wall. She turned to face her son, reaching out, her eyes tearing. No matter how hard it had been raising him on her own, worrying and not being able to ask for help, she never wanted him to hurt, or to die.

The green light of the killing curse dissipated. The dark lord was gone. Harry was sitting, smiling at her, his hair blasted back, a new scar of lighting on his forehead.

"He's gone," the madwoman muttered, her voice cracked and even higher. "I took the boy, and he's still gone." She choked, and fell to her knees.

Lily dashed forward to her son. "Harry," she cried.

"Ma," he kissed her hair. "La yo, Ma."

"I love you too."

The madwoman screamed and tried to attack them, but Lily cast out a binding curse. Lily held Harry closer if it was at all possible, and appoarched the woman tied up against the wall, quaking with sobs. The room was filled with moonlight and the efforts of broken ceiling light, causing both to look more menacing than before.

"You will never touch my son." Lily shoved her wand at Bellatrix's throat, for a moment feeling an urge to kill the women in the most painful way and feel that power. "You will never come near him again!" she screamed.

Bellatrix shivered, her sobs petering out and her eyes regaining their insane nature. "He killed my lord! He will die-!"

"Shut the fuck up, you bitch, or else I'll make you wish to hell and back that you had never served your 'lord' in the first place."

Bellatrix hissed at Lily.

The ginger sneered and turned to her son. "Now, don't repeat anything that mommy just said, okay?"

Harry patted her face. Lily glared at Bellatrix one last time.

OoOoO

Sirius sat heavily at the counter of the dark, smokey bar. It was early, almost too early to start drinking… almost.

His hair was scraggly and his eyes looked tired, a scar ran down his face, saddling his nose and distorting his eye. He was a young man, in his mid-twenties, but he looked much older.

The bar was nearly empty. It was a wrong-side-of-town type, but it didn't bother Sirius. There were others that looked much like Sirius Black–they were less haggard and more buff, like thugs. Sirius wasn't a thug, he was much worse, but he liked to forget that bit. Alcohol was great at helping him forget things.

"You look like shit," a much healthier, younger looking man with glasses sat on his right while another, with a wild look in his eyes and plenty of scars, sat on his left. The man in the glasses spoke, his lips turned into a mischievous smirk–typical Potter, Sirius rolled his eyes.

"And I smell like it, tell me something new, Prongs," Sirius muttered so low that the murmur of the almost empty bar nearly drowned him out, but still the Marauders to his sides heard him.

James laughed: Sirius gratefully accepted a large mug full of delicious, wonderful, make you so pissed you'll forget everything alcohol.

"Peter got himself thrown into Azkaban." James' tone was serious for once. The bartender handed him a shot of firewhiskey and a few to the man with a wild look in his eyes at his other side.

"I know."

James shuddered and threw his head back. "You know, and you're not freaking out?!"

"He was weak," Sirius reasoned.

"But he's one of us," James leaned over to look him in the eyes, "He's a Marauder, like us–and he's in Azkaban." His eyes were meaningful.

"Yeah, and I have a job to do." Sirius finished his wonderful, delicious, and get so pissed you can't remember alcohol and stood from his chair. He hadn't been in the bar more than ten minutes and his appetite was gone. Damn Potter.

"Don't you get it!" James followed his movement, Remus behind them both, heading towards the door, not even tipsy from all of the alcohol even though he was skinnier than the other two. "Peter will give us away! He already gave the Longbottoms away."

"Frank…" Sirius paused and his eyes rose to meet James'. "Their son, the boy from the prophecy? What happened to him?"

"The order took him into custody, he's living with his grandmother," Remus offered, his words forced and his eyes indicated they should speak of this in a more private area.

Sirius begrudgingly left the bar and walked down Knockturn Alley a bit more, until he found a subtable alcove to slip into. The Marauders followed and it was rather squashed with the three men trying not to be noticed.

"So what happened to the kid?" Sirius light a cigarette, looking at James and Remus. The two looked uncomfortable being outside in the 'bad' side of wizarding Britain. It was ironic given that James was smuggler, and Remus was a spy for so many people that it twisted any ounce of truth. Sirius was used to it–he was the bad guy, the death eater, the Black.

"That's a nasty habit," James coughed, pointing to the cigarette.

Sirius shrugged. "You don't work with the Dark Lord for a living."

"You don't get paid-"

"But I'm living."

"Barely."

Remus cleared his throat and James and Sirius stopped bickering. "Neville Longbottom was not killed. He parents are dead, but Neville Longbottom–he lived."

"What does that mean?" James asked.

"He escaped a killing curse?" Sirius reasoned breathing out and a feeling the rush of nicotine finally.

Before he served the Dark Lord, he hadn't been addicted to anything really. The cigarettes had been the occasional sin that set his bad boy image into stone. The alcohol had started earlier, with his brother's death at the hands of the Dark Lord himself. There was something about his addiction that separated him from the Dark Lord. He didn't depend on the killing or his status as a Death Eater, all he cared about was the rush of nicotine and the fuzzy feeling that alcohol gave him. He was living, barely.

Remus nodded.

"How did you know that?" James shook his head.

"It's nine in the morning, Prongs, I don't start drinking until noon at the earliest… The Dark Lord is dead, and it's going to be a long day." Sirius pushed of the wall of the alcove, putting out his cigarette with his foot. He began to walk off.

"Where are you going?" James called after him.

"Like I said, I have a job to do." He felt the burning on his chest, yet another reason for him to be happy his 'master' was dead.

"Frank's kid is with his grandmother?" James asked, his voice low.

"No, Lily took him."

"Lily?" James muttered– and Sirius turned on his heel, apparating away.

OoOoO

"Pettigrew, you better tell us the truth," the man said. Peter, sitting limp in the chair, could barely make out the man in his haze. If he hadn't been on some truth potion and some other funny liquids the Aurors had feed him, he would probably be shaking and crying in that moment.

But he was high and feeling very happy with himself.

"I have never told a lie, that's why I'm here." Peter giggled, very girlishly. "That's why Voldemort tortured me for hours on end. That's why no one likes me. Well, that and I smell weird." Peter sniffed what he thought to be his arm. "Do I smell weird to you, mister?"

"So we pumped him full of potions to get him talking, now we need to shut him up," another Auror scoffed to the side. Peter laughed, this time like a man of his stature should have.

"So Mr. Pettigrew, tell us everything that happened after you told Voldemort the location of the Longbottoms' safe house."

"I was tortured a lot...then I was in a ditch where you found me."

"What about the boy? Do you know where he went?"

"Who, Neville, Frank's kid?" Peter shrugged. "Ask the Order, they know."

"Aren't you an Order Member yourself?"

"Nah...not really. I serve the Dark Lord. He is my master, without him I'm nothing… and without him, the world won't be pure."

"Merlin, why did we have to waste our time with this guy, I knew that he didn't know anything," the second auror said.

"I know a lot of stuff actually. But you are just asking bad questions."

"Bad questions? What would be a good question, Peter?"

"First name basis, and you haven't even bought me a drink," Peter laughed though it didn't make sense and the auror remained stony.

"Well you could start by asking how I know where the Longbottoms were. It's a little odd don't you think, that I knew and I wasn't in the trusted circle of the Order."

The first auror looked to the second auror.

"Okay, Pettigrew, tell us how you knew then?" The second auror asked stepping forward.

"I have a friend, shocking right, but a really good friend, a Gryffindor friend, you might know him, he might even be your friend."

"Your record says you were once a part of the group known as the Marauders, who were smuggling all sorts of illegal goods across multiple borders by the time you were seventeen. You were on the most wanted list, both muggle and wizarding, by the time you were eighteen. Then poof, two of you went into hiding, and the other two became Death Eaters. Is this friend of yours a Marauder?"

"Yup." Peter nodded, laying his head back on his arm. "I'm sleepy now ask me questions later."

"But we're nowhere close to finished!" the second Auror shouted, though it sound more like a distant memory–the first Auror's voice trying to calm the other, a faint murmur into his dreams.

OoOoO

The room was dark, every room was dark. His cousin pacing the room, cackling, muttering. She looked up when he entered, the long table that the Dark Lord used to sit at, heading the table with her at his side, was empty and the chairs were tipped over all except for the Dark Lord's. The bastard in all his deceased glory, still had a throne.

Sirius turned his eyes from the chair. "I see you're taking this well, Bellatrix," he said quietly, not wanting to have small talk with his insane cousin, but he would rather put off her outburst.

His cousin was the most perfect example of the Dark Lord's servitude. The effect that being subjected and demeaned all for the cause of purity, which was so objective it didn't even exist, not truly, that she went insane.

He needed a cigarette, he was starting to sweat. He needed to be free for a moment before he did anything he would regret, or rather that he wouldn't but would be stupid anyways.

"Sirius," Bellatrix's eyes light up, her smile was unnerving and not all together there. "You came."

"Of course." His words were cold and rehearsed. There was no warmth, but Bellatrix didn't care. She only needed the illusion that someone was there, that someone cared enough to find her.

She reached up her arms and wrapped him in a hug. She was very bony, he noted stiffly wrapping his arms around her. She was very cold.

"He's gone, Sirius, people are expecting me to take the lead." She murmured against him.

"You were his right hand, Bellatrix."

"But without him-"

"You're nothing," Sirius finished for her.

Her breath hitched and she drew back. Her eyes had narrowed and she seemed to be shaking.

"I am not nothing!" She screamed. Sirius didn't even flinch, he had hoped to put this off longer. "I am not nothing!" She cried, letting the sound echo through the empty hall, the chair tipped over, as she regained her composure.

"I have the boy," she said in a sing-song voice.

Sirius froze. "What boy, Bellatrix?"

"The boy who was going to kill my Lord, of course."

"Neville Longbottom." Bellatrix nodded.

"The Order took him, Bellatrix. You can't have him the Order does."

"They came too late, I took him before he killed them. The Longbottoms. Alice screamed, I remember that. Weren't they your friends from Gryffindor? Some of the many you betrayed?" Her lips twitched with her vile nature, yet she didn't look vile. Her hair was well kept, but never held back. Her clothes were fine, and her skin pure ivory. She was a delicate looking person, but it was those people that tried to look less of a monster that were the worst underneath.

Sirius never hide his true nature. He was scoundrel, with alcohol on his breath and smoke on his clothes. His face on wanted posters. That was what he was, a criminal, an addict, a betrayer.

He stepped forward and reached out, his hand finding her neck. She was very fragile, he could snap her like a twig. "Then who was the boy that killed the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix faltered. "Who is the real Chosen One, Bellatrix?" Sirius asked again, louder this time.

"I've failed," she whimpered.

"Yeah, now tell me something new, Bellatrix, before I kill you," he hissed clawing her throat and tilting her face to his.

"Who killed Voldemort, do you know? More importantly, does The Order know? Does Pettigrew know?"

Her eyes were fiery the pain bringing, her new life."No one knows… but it's not going to happen again. Neville's dead, no one else can kill the Dark Lord."

Sirius shook, dropping Bellatrix to the ground. He leaned against a wall, hurriedly drawing something from under his shirt where it had started to burn earlier and had started to sear and smoke. He ripped the locket off his neck and threw it across the room.

He stared at the last thing his brother had given him before he had the guts to turn against the Dark Lord and wound up dead. The soul inside the locket was screaming to get out. Bellatrix could hear it too and crawled, desperate to reach a fragment of the her Lord, to remember him again.

The scarfaced man watched it, and lazily he stepped forward, raising his wand.

While his brother was alive, Sirius had been a coward. He hadn't been the person he should have been, he hadn't been a very good brother or Gryffindor for that matter. But now, he had his chance. To do something good, something right, for his friends, for the man he used to be. For his brother.

He could do what his brother couldn't.

Sirius could destroy the horcrux clutched in his cousin's hand. He could kill another part of the man that ended his brother, that started the world going into chaos, that brought madness to his cousin. He could that much for the world, scoundrel or not.

He raised his wand, performing the incantation for Feindfyre. It was a tricky spell that he barely knew and that could easily go haywire, but if his cousin happened to be burned as well, why was he to care, she was after all just another part of the Dark Lord.

Outside, he lit another cigarette, watching as the Manor went up in flames. A smirk on his face.

OoOoO

Remus had a sense for when people were lying. Sometimes he was faced with the enigma of what his senses told him and what his mind knew. His mind knew that the Longbottom son was dead, but his sense had tracked Lily Evans from the Longbottom's house, and Bellatrix LeStrange.

If Bellatrix LeStrange had her hands on the child, he would have known. But his senses said it was logical if she had.

Remus followed that scent, finding it off in the woods, one full moon, not long after the events that had changed the world. His fur was bristling in the wind and his eyes were sharp.

He had caught the scent of the child. His first reaction was to salivate, then burst off running.

It was a terrible sight he found. The baby had been buried. He had a tombstone too. The wolf in him wanted to dig, but the human was able to stop him.

He wondered at what it would have felt like to find his son that way. Remus ran out of the light and into the darkness, hoping he would never see that place again.

OoOoO

James hurried down Diagon Alley hiding his face as he ducked into the Leaky Cauldron and from there, he ran out into the streets of muggle London.

He was anxious working sweaty hands around the pole he was holding onto as the metro jerked forward and towards her house. His thoughts were rampant with the idea that she- he just didn't want her dead.

James hopped out of the metro and rushed up to the surface hoping that he wasn't too late, though Remus had already confirmed that Lily was alive.

She lived in a quaint country house close to a lake where across it lived another family, a family of wizards, nice family. It was a perfect place for a witch, her son, and the smuggler father to live and no one to catch them.

It was still evening. He would probably catch them eating dinner.

At the door, he took his time knocking. Her face greeted him, and he nearly forgot how to breathe, not because of her deadly glare but her beautiful face. Even though she using any beauty products or even wearing fancy clothing, she was beautiful–in a baggy old shirt that might have been her father's, sweatpants with paint splatters on them, her socks soft and colorful, and her hair tied up quickly and falling into her face.

"James, quit staring."

"Oh, sorry," he ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks flushed. "I just came by to make sure you were okay."

"Well, I'm okay, now please leave."

"What about Harry?"

"James-"

"Please Lily, he is my son."

She worked her jaw.

"Fine, he's just about to go to sleep." She cracked open the door a bit, letting James in.

"I forgot to mention," he began, following her into Harry's room which was down a hall and up a flight of stairs. "You look lovely."

"You always say that," she sighed.

"It's always true," he countered.

They were at Harry's door. Lily motioned for him to open it. James hesitated–he hadn't been ready to be a dad: he probably still wasn't, but he did love his son. He did love Lily, and he was sorry for what he'd put her through, raising a son virtually on her own.

The door creaked as he opened it. James hoped he hadn't woken the baby, but he saw that the little boy was standing in his crib using the railing. He squealed when he saw James, though Harry was probably looking at Lily entering behind them.

"Hey little man," James picked up his son.

"Da," Harry said, smacking James face.

"Lily," James whirled to face her. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, he can say Mama too and Dumby and Lic and Fank." She smiled, coming a little closer.

"Dumby as in Dumbledore?" James looked at Harry who clapped his hands and shouted. "Dumby!"

"Who are Lic and Fank?"

"Alice and Frank," Lily said quietly, looking down.

James nodded. "Does he spend a lot of time with them?"

"They were the only two I really told. Plus, they could watch him, when I needed to do a mission or something for Dumbledore."

"I could've-"

"No James, you couldn't. You were off in Romania killing dragons, or down in Knockturn alley selling off illegal potions or art or the next thing and the next." She shook her head, crossing her arms.

"That wasn't forever Lily, I have plans, for the future, for our future," he tugged on Harry's shirt.

"I don't want to talk about this now, James, I'm tired." Lily shook her head.

He nodded and turned his attention to Harry. "You defeated a really scary guy yesterday. You are going to be a great Gryffindor one day, like your mommy." He nearly choked looking at his son for possibly the last time as it was every time he looked at his son. "I'm really proud of you little man, okay? I love you."

He kissed Harry's head. The little boy leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on James' cheek.

"La yo," Harry tried. James laughed, and placed him back into his crib.

With a look back James turned off the light and closed the door. He began to follow Lily but she wasn't moving, just standing in the small stairwell. He reached out to her, and suddenly, she released a sob.

James hugged her. He didn't care if she hated him or if he might end up dead because of it. She needed to have someone there because he was the last person left to help her.

"Lily," he murmured against her hair, and she wrapped her arms around him.

They stood that way for a long time, James had his shirt thoroughly soaked and Lily's hair had come fully out of its messy ponytail. James wasn't complaining.

As her sniveling stopped, she pulled back.

"You are terrible son of bitch, James Potter, coming here and saying things you don't mean."

"Who said I didn't mean-"

"Don't lie, I know you're good at it, but I can't stand it!"

He was silent for a moment. "Lily, I'm not lying. Not to you, not anymore-"

"Because you've changed, James, is that it? You know, I believed you two years ago, but not now. We have a son, James, a son. That means you have to grow up and be someone for him. Not a liar, not a smuggler, not some convict."

"Lily-"

"Don't even try, James."

"Listen to me, please." Somehow his words stopped her. "I know I have a son, Lily, and I know I have to be a father. I have been working for the past two years to turn my act around. No more drugs, no more illegal stuff."

"That's bull-"

"No, I've gone clean, went to meetings, turned myself in. I got out on good behavior. I finished school. I got a job, I have a place in London, now. A nice flat. I'm training to be an Auror on the side.

"See, Lily, I am trying. I'm not the bad guy you once knew and I don't plan to be again."

Her green eyes were a mix. "I- James, this is just so hard. And, I don't think I can do it anymore–our son killed the darkest wizard of all time, how is he going to deal with that. How is Voldemort even dead?" She stayed silent. "Will he have to face him again?"

"I know, but he can do it, Lily, you know he can. He has your brains, and your eyes, and if he has anything else of yours I'll have to sue."

She laugh lightly. It made James' heart flutter.

"Have you had anything to eat yet? I was just making some dinner. It kinda sucks eating alone at night in a big house."

"I would love to– I mean, no I haven't had anything yet."

She laughed lightly, then looked at the floor and bit her lip. "You can stay over if you want." Her eyes flickered up to his. "I have to go do something for Dumbledore in the morning, and I need someone to watch Harry."

"I would like that."

"Thank you, James," Lily said standing on her tiptoes and aiming to kiss his cheek. James caught her lips with his own in a devilishly quick move.

"What's for dinner?" He asked, ending the kiss and grinning at her.

OoOoO

"Mr. Black-"

"Sirius"

"Mister Sirius-"

"Just Sirius."

"Sirius Black, you have been sentenced by the court of Wizengamot to a lifetime in Azkaban for the following crimes: over ten counts of unforgivables, treason, illegal gambling, smuggling, over twenty counts of homicide. However, your sentence has been lessened because of your heroic disposing of the Death Eater threat in the form of arison, so congratulations you no longer have to spend two lifetimes and a Dementor's kiss."

"Thank you, your honor."

"You seem to be a good man, Sirius Black, but you were in a terrible situation. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, your honor, but I don't need your pity. I'm just a idiot coward who can't tell the difference between what will get me killed and what won't, unless I'm sober.

"I'm lucky to be alive sir, and I'm not the only one."

OoOoO

"James!" His mother screamed from the first floor. The door had just slammed shut and there was the sound of many thudding feet. Three that Harry could tell by the voices.

"Lily," came a quieter voice, her couldn't hear much of the rest, but knowing his Uncle Remus, it probably involved calming his mother down. He had always been good at that.

"Lils, look I'm sorry," his father said. Harry sat up his letter still clutched in his hand. Addressed to Mr. Harry Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I told you he wasn't going! Why didn't you listen to me James!"

"I did, but this is something the kid has to do."

"No, it's not. I will protect him no matter what James. Starting with him not going to Hogwarts!" His mother stomped up the stairs. Harry went from the door and back to his bed where he clutched the letter even harder. Tears streamed down his face.

Maybe one day it would be different. Maybe he would feel lucky to save the wizarding world. His mother, father, Uncle Remus. He only felt scared. So many people had died, and what was stopping him from dying too. He was just Harry Potter, a boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and who no one knew existed. That was all he was and all he'd ever be. He wouldn't take it for much longer.

A shadowy figure looked at him. "Harry Potter," he chuckled. "I will never make that mistake again." A face grew from the darkness screaming out leaching his soul with red eyes and snake like features. "Never Harry Potter!"

Harry screamed and jolted awake. The sunlight was filtering through the room and everything seemed just fine.

A/N: Whoot! Okay maybe not so whoot, but I did it. This is for the finally Tri-Wizard task and I'm kinda digging this. It was a hard prompt, dark Marauders who were still Gryffindors and centered around Harry. But, I think it went well. I second Chp. could be possible if it gets enough hype, but otherwise, this is the story I'm telling.

Word Count: 5,209

Prompts:

[Quote] - Quidditch Pitch

[Sentence] Maybe one day it would be different. - Drabble Club

Hoots,

Owls