Full Summary: The Dark Lord missed his chance, and a different war has enveloped the wizard world. Legions of cosmic monstrosities from an unknown—and decidedly non-magical—source are wreaking havoc. The Lords Black stand at the vanguard of the magical resistance, with their only son, Sirius, who is proving to be a troublesome heir. He runs rampant with his teenage friends and shows little interest in fighting to regain a status quo he has never known. And then there's the matter of his bodyguard, a boy who bears him a striking resemblance and, despite his secluded upbringing, boasts an impressive knowledge of the enemy's alien weaponry. When Sirius gives his family the slip on a cold Christmas Eve, he gets more than he'd ever imagined in the form of an information-soaked dagger.
Those Drawn Together (by destiny and their cursed blood)
Full Title Quote: "Those drawn together by destiny and their cursed blood raise the curtain once again on madness, love, and hate." –Kaori Yuki, Godchild.
Story Notes: Happy Holidays all, I know I really don't need to start another multi-chaptered story, but (as usual) I couldn't resist. So please enjoy the prologue to this (MAJORLY) re-vamped version of "A Distant, Secluded Past" which was a short story I wrote for a prompt challenge a year or two ago. The word "re-vamped" here means "completely overhauled."
Prologue: The Gun
Sirius Black was perched—rather precariously, if he did so admit—on the edge of the topmost windowsill on the back side of his parents' grand manor. The air was bitingly cold; the thick fog that had until recently only intermittently shrouded the cityscape had not lifted for nearly a week, and so in that week the sun had not been able to warm the earth. As such he also could not see the stars, which was a shame as his namesake, the Dog Star, Sirius, was supposed to be painfully bright this time of the year, or so the books in Mother and Father's study had told him.
Sirius scoffed and swept his sleek, black hair away from his face, although it proceeded to fall back immediately. What would his parents think if they knew he was not only disobeying their will tonight, but had been doing so at least twice a week for the last eight years? They'd have his beautiful head, for sure.
In truth, Sirius was waiting for a signal. Any minute now, his best friend and cohort, James Potter, would whistle up at him from the street, eliciting him to jump down to the damp lawn below and join him. Sirius wasn't about to go sailing out his window without Potter's signal, though; sneaking back into his home was a lot harder than sneaking out, and if he was going to be stood up, he'd rather not risk getting caught by any of his parent's servants.
The manor, often called Grimmauld Place (a shortened version of the full address), was packed nearly wall-to-wall with servants, too, or so it always seemed to Sirius. Some of them were of higher status than others, perhaps bodyguards or contract assassins would be a better term for the fancier ones. Although there were still plenty to wash dishes and reshelve library books. Most ancient wizarding families had a house elf or two to do their bidding, but Sirius's parents were not only traditionalists, but the top of the magic totem pole, and so while there were a few of the unsightly little bastards running around the dark hallways, Grimmauld Place was well staffed with human slaves as well. Sirius didn't know of any other family with the status to get away with it. James had told him stories about an older woman his family used to own, but insisted they had set her free when he was very small out of basic humanity.
Sirius scoffed to himself. If there was one thing his entire family lacked (maybe including himself) it was humanity.
"Hurry up, Prongs," Sirius muttered in agitation. He thumped his head back against the windowframe a couple times, groaning. It was cold as hell out and he wanted to get going. He couldn't close the window because he'd be unable to hear James's signal if he did so.
Sirius was especially excited for tonight's escapade. James had sneaked him word that their mutual friend, Remus Lupin, had spotted a crash point of some kind not too far out of Surrey. Sirius's fingers curled spastically around the handle of his magic wand; he was eager to get out and stretch his legs. If Remus was correct, and Remus usually was, then there would definitely be a ship out there. If they were extremely lucky, one or two of its original pilots might even be left behind.
One of Sirius's prized talents was his proficiency at eavesdropping, and it was by these means he had done his research. According to the information he could piece together from various conversations overheard between his parents, Ministry Officials, Death Eaters, and random informants, the horde of monsters currently besieging the entire continent (and spreading farther by the year) were controlled on a very basic, almost instinctual level from a higher up source. A source of greater intelligence, most likely, for the slavering creatures that came crawling out from the oceans and volcanoes were bestial in nature, and incapable of sentient thought or reasoning.
Aliens, Sirius had heard the term thrown around a lot lately, although he much preferred cosmic monstrosities. He wasn't even sure they had come from space; perhaps they were from a different dimension entirely! They had never been sighted, only their flying vessels had. They were compact things, hardly larger than Sirius's bedroom, give or take the fireplace, and tended to be cloaked to the point of invisibility. But every once in a blue moon, one of them would crash, or be otherwise abandoned. Usually they were hauled off immediately to the Ministry for cataloguing and research; never once had an occupant been found inside one of the infernal machines.
Sirius took a deep breath of chilling air. Tonight would be different, he could just feel it! If the ship had truly crashed as Remus insisted, then its dead pilots were bound to be inside, and if they were still alive, then Sirius and James could kill them—get into a real fight! He only hoped nobody else had gotten to the sight first.
From somewhere down the street there came a very guttural growl and Sirius snapped his eyes open wide.
"James…" he murmured again.
"James who?" a cold voice sounded from directly behind him.
Sirius was so startled he very nearly fell off his perch. After regaining his balance, he slowly swiveled around and dropped back on to the drawing room floor.
Standing in the doorway was Regulus, his decoy, and staring into his glinting grey eyes was like standing in front of a mirror. Sirius immediately eased.
He had been expecting a servant, not Regulus. He had panicked in the instant where having one of his parents' cronies (perhaps the sour-faced old man who always glared at him for wearing his shoes indoors, or the frighteningly-tall young woman who lurked in the wine cellar, cataloguing spirits) had been a real possibility. Any one of them would have had him beaten and escorted back to bed, and then informed his parents in the morning.
However this was only Regulus. Simply Regulus who could no sooner beat Sirius than fly to Venus. For one thing, despite his uncanny resemblance to the Black family heir, he was significantly smaller. Sirius had almost a head on him height-wise (Oh how hilarious were the high, high boots Regulus had to wear when he was in disguise as Sirius!) And for another thing, Regulus had always been easily cowed by Sirius, and the older boy could walk all over him.
"James Potter," Sirius replied unashamedly. He approached Regulus with confidence. "He and I are going out tonight."
Regulus's posture slackened. "Sirius-bocchan," he pleaded. "Please, no…it's dangerous out there, especially at night!"
"When have I ever not been fine?" Sirius asked, adopting his cockiest voice, the one he knew Regulus hated.
"You'll be torn apart by those monsters, Master," insisted Regulus, and he dared to take a step towards Sirius, looking up into his eyes fiercely. "They get bolder at night. And besides…James Potter?"
"He's my best mate," Sirius explained.
"I know that," Regulus hissed. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not doing something dangerous. Tell me you're not going to get torn up."
"So what if I do?" Sirius laughed and grabbed Regulus by his shoulders and then spun him around. He leaned close to whisper in his ear, "A few scratches never hurt me!"
"Well they'll hurt me," Regulus whispered. He shrank down and tried to wriggle out of Sirius's grasp. "I'm your body double, sir, it's my job to make sure you're never in danger. If you come down to breakfast tomorrow with a huge slash across your face that can't be magically healed, then your father will hold me down and slice me up, too, so I match. You know that."
"Yeah," Sirius shrugged and finally let the squirming boy out of his grasp. "Speaking of which, what are you doing this high up? You're not usually allowed out of your room downstairs. What if somebody sees you?" he added and a strict and condescending voice while he shook his head lightly and put on a façade of disappointment. Truthfully he didn't much care if Regulus was spotted or not. He was certain some of the servants knew of him already, and if he was outed it really wasn't any skin off Sirius's back. His parents were just over-reacting. He'd never found himself in any real danger before, and had been convinced for years that Regulus was unnecessary.
"That's because whenever there's a serious threat, I'm the one that gets to go in your stead, Master," Regulus hissed. Sirius blinked, not realizing he'd been saying some of his thoughts out lout again. "Trust me, I come home bloody and battered on a regular basis, you could at least have some gratitude and not go gallivanting off into the night to get yourself eaten by demons!"
Sirius yawned. "Yes, yes, whatever. Go back to your room, Reggie," he insisted. His head cocked to the side as he heard James's three note whistle drift in from the open window. "That's my cue, gotta' run. See ya'," and he sent Regulus on his way with a strong push and a slap to his rear end.
Regulus yelped indignantly, but Sirius had gone sailing out the window by the time he'd turned back around.
Sirius hit the ground hard and rolled. It never seemed to matter how used to this he was, something always creaked when he got up. This time it was his shoulder. "Ouch," he complained, stretching and flexing his arm. "We need to think about installing a trampoline somewhere down here."
"Or perhaps you should focus your efforts on de-warding a window a little closer to the ground, idiot," James Potter came striding up to him from the back alley he'd been lurking in.
Sirius sent him a lopsided grin. His friend was covered in brush and looking a little disheveled.
"What happened to you?" Sirius laughed as James pulled a small stick out of his collar.
"They set after me on my way here, three of them!" he insisted. "Normally they don't come this close to the heart of the city!"
"It's the night, man, they get braver when it's dark," Sirius quoted Regulus's words from earlier. He pulled a leaf out of James's hair.
"I had to change to slip them," James told him.
"Shit!" Sirius was taken aback. James was an unregistered animagus, as was Sirius for that matter, but a large, black dog was a significantly less suspicious sight than a three-pronged, wild deer. "Did anybody see you?"
"Just a couple of seriously angry cheetahs," James laughed. He and Sirius had taken it upon themselves to categorize the different flavors of slavering monsters that had presented themselves in the city. What James had dubbed the cheetahs were the most common, and they resembled tall hyenas with elongated faces and dusky cheetah print hides.
James was still obviously flustered from being chased. He ran his hand nervously through his hair.
"Well…let's get going, okay? I ditched them a few blocks back…"
"Come on then. Let's get the street and get out of here."
"Okay."
Sirius led James back around his house. They broke out of the alley and tumbled into the front street. The world was a little more well lit here, with flickering orange lights casting a disturbing glow over the frosted streets. Sirius looked up and down the road. There was no one out and about; most of the muggles had been wiped out by the onslaught of monsters and the few who remained had either been taken in by a generous wizarding family (don't look at Sirius's family) or were in hiding elsewhere, and there were few wizards who lacked the sense to stay indoors at night, when the monsters were most vicious.
Sirius and James were not new to this, though; they knew what they were doing. The buses still ran. Sirius flung out his wand arm. He felt a little chill go down his spine while they waited for the usual bang!...he could almost feel all the enemy eyes on him.
"Remus wouldn't come with," James explained needlessly.
"He won't even meet us there?" Sirius demanded. At that moment, one of the transport buses arrived with a clatter and a gust of wind sent his and James's robes billowing. Sirius spat hair out of his face.
"No, he's convinced it's too close to the full moon."
Sirius rolled his eyes. The full moon was weeks away; their friend was being a coward again.
"Such a ponce," Sirius muttered. He spun around and clambered onto the bus, James following him closely while fishing around in his pocket for some change. The two of them settled at the back of the bus and waited. Sirius fiddled around with the destination panel on the back of the seat in front of him, selecting where they wanted the driver to take them.
The bus was moderately crowded with late night commuters, most of whom probably worked for the ministry. That was the only profession (legal profession, at least) that Sirius could think of which would require its employees to be out so late; it was nearly one in the morning.
James was standing above Sirius, hanging on to the rail and lounging over him. "Excited?" he asked.
"You know it," Sirius muttered as he finished selecting the proper coordinates and the little accepted light was blinking green. "We haven't found anything worthwhile in months."
"My parents'd have a fit if they ever caught me," James said conversationally.
"And mine would be pleased?" Sirius laughed. "They'd have an aneurism if they knew their precious heir was so disobedient."
"Have they ever caught you?" James asked curiously. Sirius had never mentioned it, but then again, why would he?
"Once or twice, yeah. Not often enough to suspect we do it all the time, though," Sirius sounded supremely unconcerned with this fact. "Last time they noticed was a few years ago. I was like thirteen. You should have seen my father's face!"
Sirius's laugh was short and abrupt, rather like a bark. James rolled his eyes. He had met Sirius's parents on several occasions, and judging by the harsh decorum of the two Lords Black, he had trouble imagining how Sirius could possibly be so nonchalant about getting on their bad sides.
Well the answer to that was quite simple, really, although it was impossible for James to divine it from Sirius's toothy grin: Sirius's parents rarely punished him. A long time ago they had come to the mistaken conclusion that Sirius cared more deeply for Regulus, although why he should care for him was a mystery to the oldest Black. When Sirius did wrong, it was Regulus who got smacked, and it wasn't that Sirius felt no regret, just that such punishment didn't in any way deter him.
The inside of the bus was cozily warm and both Sirius and James were reluctant to leave it an hour or so later, when the wheels grinded to a halt, the front door creaked open and the driver called, "Oi, you two in the back. This's your stop! Last one of the night for me…" his voice trailed off into incoherent grumbling. James and Sirius were the last two passengers. As they passed the driver, James flashed him a wide grin and flipped an extra galleon coin into the collection tin.
"Woah!" Sirius threw his hood up as soon as the wind hit them. The bus disappeared from behind them with a crack! "Bit chilly out, isn't it?"
"Shit, I hate winter," James griped in agreement. "Fuckin' drag to have your snot freeze."
Sirius couldn't help but laugh. James would never speak in such a manner within earshot of his parents (or anyone who would potentially report to his parents) for fear of intense retribution. Sirius never had much of a censor on his own mouth, parents or no parents, and he'd earned Regulus many a slap to the face when he was younger.
They were on the edge of a field. Sirius removed the crumpled piece of paper Remus had sent him from his pocket and double-checked the coordinates. He held out his own wand and whispered conspiratorially to it. It flashed the numbers of their current location.
"Looks like we've still got a couple of miles to go," Sirius frowned, pointing in the correct direction. "Fucking bus."
"Well it's not gonna' drive through a freaking field," James argued. He stepped boldly off the road and into the frozen stubble. "Shit, though, it is way cold to be walking."
"Then let's not walk," Sirius suggested with a smile spreading over his chapped lips. James seemed to fill in the spaces between the lines.
"Race you," he goaded, before throwing himself groundwards. Before he'd even lost his balance he'd changed and in his place stood a tall, dark deer with impressive antlers and a mysteriously smug face. James didn't wait for Sirius; he took the headstart he could get.
Sirius wasn't far behind. He transformed in mid-leap and hit the ground dashing. The frozen stems below him cracked underneath his massive paws as he gained ground on his friend quickly. There was a gentle fog swishing through his fur and his frantic pace kicked snow up into his face, but he never really needed to see in this form.
It felt good to run. He sprinted until his heart raced and his joints ached. Every muscle felt stretched, pulled, near to snapping but he loved it. He caught James easily, circled around him even, nipped at his heels a few times. When James bounced effortlessly over an old property-line fence, Sirius leaped straight through the middle, sliding his lithe body between the wooden boards and not even breaking stride.
They charged down a slick hill, now more sliding than running, and finally found their destination. James came to a slippery halt at the edge of a slight cliff, for the hill cut off dramatically. Sirius tumbled right into him, partly from his inertia and partly on purpose, and the two of them tumbled gracelessly into the chasm below.
They were humans again by the time they'd stopped rolling. It soon became immediately apparent why the ground was so uneven in what was undeniably a crop field: the wreckage of the vessel had created a massive crater, into which they had fallen.
Sirius threw out a "fuuuck…" just for good measure as he staggered to his feet, clutching his chest. James righted himself as well.
"Remus was—…wasn't kidding," he gasped. "He really did see the thing come down."
Sirius nodded, a little surprised himself. It wasn't that he had expected Remus to be wrong, just maybe mistaken. These fields were all but abandoned in the winters and as such Remus had used them as an impromptu transformation location. Remus was a werewolf, and was normally kept under lock and key during the full moons. Out here, though, when it was the cold months at least, he could be let out to run and howl to his heart's desire with no consequence. When he'd sent word of what he'd seen, Sirius had been a little skeptical that Remus's memory might be a bit off—werewolves didn't really see that well after all, nor were they well known for comprehending what they saw.
But here it was as plain as if it were day. In the center of the massive hole was a mangled piece of metal resembling a muggle car, only larger, and with strange, twisted propulsion mechanisms instead of wheels, and a complex system of lights instead of windows (which were still blinking, albeit dully as the entire structure was caked with dirt) and absolutely no discernable doors or entrance points.
"Holy shit," James gasped. He and Sirius had never even seen a picture of one of these, few people had. A good many wizards had chosen to believe that the ships found and confiscated by the government had been hoaxes or rumors, but if anything removed that doubt from the boys' heads it was the image they saw before them.
"This is it, all right," Sirius breathed. "Remus is gonna' freak when we show him."
"We oughta' just say we never saw it," James argued. "He's bound to tell his parents about it if he figures we really found it."
"Oh, shut up, we're not doing that," Sirius shot back half-heartedly, but he was a little uneasy himself.
James caught his look. "I'd bet money his parents drafted a letter last evening and are gonna' send it out as soon as it's light. This place'll be crawling with ministry workers by six a.m."
"Then we'll just have to make sure we're long gone by then…and with all the interesting stuff!" Sirius approached the machine cautiously. He had no idea how technology worked. Wasn't it all electric? Was the metal safe to touch, or was he going to find himself getting radio stations through the fillings in his teeth?
James had thrown caution to the frozen winds and placed both his hands, open-palmed, over one of the large, reddish lights. As his skin disturbed all the dust, a few clean patches appeared between his fingers, and the light shot out of them, bright and intimidating.
"Wicked," James murmured. "Come on, let's find a way inside, then!"
Sirius walked around to the other side, hoping to find a door of some kind. What he found instead was an enormous hole. A long strip had been torn almost completely off the side of the ship, and now dangled, bent at an odd angle. It was enough, though. Without hesitation, Sirius lit his wand ("lumos!") and clambered inside. James must have heard his boots clanking down on the metal interior of the ship, because and instant later, he was behind Sirius.
"Bit dark in here," he complained, adding his own wand to the meager light Sirius had provided. While it was dark outside, the waning moon and snow on the ground had kept visibility high. Inside this structure it had been pitch black until the two boys had lit their wands.
"Shh…" Sirius inched forward. The interior of the vessel was very bare. There was a single control panel in one side, a sort of mat on the floor (or perhaps ceiling? It was hard to tell which way this this had landed) with many lights and a single, charred button that both Sirius and James were too nervous to touch. On the other side of the small ship was a twisted and wrecked clump of some kind of metal interlaced with scraps of a softer, blue material.
James approached it. "Was this some kind of chair, do you suppose?"
Sirius shrugged. Some of the panels on the walls were indented more than other, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. There were a few welded symbols here and there that seemed to serve no purpose at all. Sirius tried his best to memorize them for further study later.
"This place is pretty empty," Sirius admitted a while later when he was feeling both relieved and disappointed that they had found no living or dead creatures inside the ship. "Like, really empty."
Suddenly James aimed his light at the floor. "Maybe empty now," he admitted.
Sirius followed his gaze and noticed what his friend as talking about. There were long scrapes and dents in the floor they stood on, as though multiple, heavy objects had been dragged free of the ship. Following the path back out into the crater, Sirius and James examined the ground more closely. Sure enough, matching drag marks and a few indecipherable indents that may have been footprints led from the improvised doorway out into the field. Sirius suddenly found himself shaking a little.
"There was at least one alive," he whispered. "It made it out of the ship…"
"Old Moody wasn't crazy after all," said James in an equally quiet voice. "There really are intelligent creatures siccing all those monsters on us."
"How far away do you suppose it is?"
"Remus saw this thing crash days ago," James admitted. "On the full moon, remember?"
"That's right," Sirius sighed. "Any survivors are long gone by now."
"So we're alone," James said in a carefully calm voice. From that moment on, the two of them were even more quiet than before, as if out of fear that whatever had crawled from the wreckage might crawl back.
Sirius was just beginning to think that, beyond the symbols he had seen earlier, there was nothing worth salvaging here and was just starting to consider blasting off a piece of the ship as a souvenir, when he heard James gasp.
"Get over here, Sirius!" he called.
Sirius walked back to the gaping hole and leaned inside, unwilling to go back in.
James stepped back out of the darkness, and held something out to Sirius. Now under the light of the moon, Sirius could see what it was.
It was some kind of device, with a determined handle and an elongated portion on the top which ended at a slight point. The entire body of it was silver with black edges and it equaled the length of Sirius's wand, though it was considerably wider. When James handed it to him, Sirius noticed it felt heavy, dense.
"What is it?" he gasped.
James shrugged. "There was only one," he explained. "It was stuck under that pile of junk metal we found in there."
Sirius nodded, in awe of the device. "Well we've found what we're taking home!" he exclaimed. James nodded enthusiastically.
"I wonder what it does," Sirius mused. He gripped the handle firmly and shook the thing a little. Nothing. Flipping it over in his hand, he slid his fingers along the underside, examining the metal for any kind of switch or trigger, like he'd seen in pictures in his books. There weren't any, but when his fingers brushed up against the corner where the handle met the top of the device, a piece of the seemingly solid structure slid back with great force, tugging two of his finger along with it. There was an intense vibrating sound and a strong jet of something red rocketed from the end of the machine. It narrowly missed James's head and instead struck the ship behind him, scorching an enormous circle into the grey metal.
"Holy shit!" James cried, darting sideways. Sirius, who had been knocked off his feet from the kickback, only lay on his back in awe, staring up at the starry sky. It was still foggy out here, but considerably less so than in the city, and large patches of the sky had opened up, allowing moonlight to flood in.
"Are you okay?" James was kneeling by him an instant later. "That thing must be some kind of weapon!"
"Yeah or a long range welding tool," Sirius deadpanned, pulling himself to his feet. "I'm fine, James," he insisted when James reached out a hand to help steady him.
"Fuck that was loud," James hissed. "I wouldn't be surprised if I go deaf on that side!"
Sirius held the weapon out at arm's length, much more cautious of it now. It was a minute or two before he regained his breath and both he and James were once again feeling excited about their discovery, rather than terrified.
James shivered a little once they were calmed enough to start noticing the temperature again.
"Perhaps we should start back," he offered.
Sirius agreed. The new workday was creeping up on them; soon it would be light and if their suspicions were true, then they did not want to be here when people started showing up.
James ran his wand along the ground briefly, covering up their footprints and by extent, the marks left outside by the escaping alien as well.
"We don't want them finding out someone was already here," he explained, although Sirius had long since caught on. "Now transform and I'll hand you this thing."
Sirius resumed his dog shape, and carefully took the metal thing in his mouth, wary of it attacking him again. James transformed beside him and they clambered out of the ravine (Sirius having a slightly difficult time of it thanks to his newly added cargo) and set off for the road again at a slower, yet somehow more urgent pace than before.
They hailed the bus a second time and it was a new driver now, one who looks decidedly unhappy at being called to work at this hour. She glared at the two of them until they all but emptied their pockets into her money jar. She also refused to take them back to their houses, stopping a good ten blocks from James's home and even further from Sirius's before kicking them out and disappearing into the night.
"Bitch," James cursed at the empty street where the bus had previously been.
"Fuck it, we'll walk," Sirius conceded. They set off down the sidewalk. Sirius's body ached from all the exertion of the night and his steps were slow and sluggish. James was not much better. Sirius had their souvenir carefully tucked away in his pocket, and it made him heavily lopsided.
"I turn here, mate," James reminded him.
"Oh, right!" Sirius said. "Listen, we need to get together to do some serious examination of this thing."
"I know, but I'm gone for a few weeks now…for Christmas," James whined. "My mother wants to fly over to Spain to see one of her cousins."
The unspoken because we never know how many chances we'll have to see him hung heavy in the air. Sirius nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hadn't they all 'been in mortal danger' for nearly two decades now? He was certain Ms. Potter's cousin wasn't going anywhere.
"All right, shoot me a message when you get back, will you?"
"Of course!" James insisted. "And keep an eye on the papers for me. I want to know if they mention that wreck at all."
"Probably won't, the last few were kept secret, remember?" Sirius had only heard what he'd heard of them from (you guessed it) eavesdropping on his parents.
James nodded. "Get home safe," he pleaded.
"I will," Sirius promised. He would have said 'and you, too' except James's house was literally a hundred yards away. Sirius saw him walk up the front steps and wave once before disappearing inside. Sirius stared for a second, envious of how easy it was for James to get back into his home. He had to scale the side of building, a risky and decidedly noisy task.
Sirius started off back towards Grimmauld, and he was halfway home before he heard the growling. He froze.
Sirius supposed he'd been lucky, actually. With as bold as the monsters had become in recent years—especially at night—he should by rights have been set upon blocks ago.
The growling was coming from behind him, in front of him, and to his right. With nothing but a solid wall of abandoned buildings on his left, he was effectively surrounded. A chorus of high-pitched yipping began to interlace with the guttural growls as they grew in volume and number.
"Cheetahs," Sirius mouthed. He glanced at the abandoned houses, immediately dismissing the idea of venturing inside one. The doors hung loose on their hinges and the windows were all broken in. They'd follow him inside and then he'd be trapped for real. He decided he had a better chance out in the open where he could fight.
Sirius had taken out his share of marauding mutants. His bedroom at Grimmauld was stuffed full of teeth, claws, pelts and some entire skeletons of the smaller ones he'd managed to hunt down. His parents never went in there, so he worried very little about being found out. Only Regulus had ever seen his growing collection, and Sirius didn't even have to tell him to keep his mouth shut; Regulus knew to do as Sirius wanted.
This was a little different, though. Sirius had never taken down a full-sized cheetah, let alone three (and there had to be at least three, because he was surrounded on three sides. It was difficult to tell with all the echoes down the alleys and off buildings but it sounded like there were even more. Their whining and yowling was making Sirius's skin crawl; it was the kind of sound a pack of wild animals made when their kill was imminent: an early celebration howl).
Sirius slowly withdrew his wand and turned his back to the houses. For a brief moment, he contemplated shouting for assistance, but who in this neighborhood would hear or help him? And he wasn't so desperate yet that he wanted to call attention to himself; his parents would throw a fit and he'd probably find himself locked in his room if they thought he was putting himself in this kind of danger. Besides, shouting would only bring the monsters on him faster.
The creatures quieted and the barks became intermittent. Sirius snapped his head back and forth, following the sparse noises as they circled around him in the dusky street. He could see very little in this area as it was covered in a thick fog and the dull street lights only reflected off the low-hanging clouds. Sirius found he almost had to squint.
All was still for a minute, and Sirius knew what was coming next. One by one, the hideous, speckled creatures galloped out of the fog and came towards him on all sides.
"Protego!" Sirius shouted, throwing up a shield in front of him. The first two cheetahs bounced off of it, howling in pain, and the two that followed behind skidded to a halt just in time and waited for Sirius's protection to retract.
Before Sirius could recast his shield, one of the injured ones was up and charging forward again, as were the two who hadn't fallen.
"Sectumsempra!" Sirius sliced the nearest cheetah open. It gave a sickening cry when the front of its chest slit open. A purplish blood-like fluid oozed out onto the snowy pavement and the creature hit the ground squirming. It was far from dead.
The others leapt over their fallen comrade and surged up to Sirius. Sirius backed up, sliding a little on the slick ground, to give himself some more room before casting again. He managed to blast the creatures back into a heap next to the injured one. They twitched and growled, saliva flooding from their jaws, but they didn't get back up again. One of them managed to swivel onto its stomach and lay there like a dog, panting.
Sirius's legs were shaking. He could hardly stand himself upright. He took in the four cheetahs in front of him, panting almost as much as they were. Slowly he made his way forward. If he could just inch to the side of them, then he could dash off down the street and hopefully get home before they regained their breath.
Something was wrong, though. The cheetahs were hardly mortally wounded. One was bleeding, but the others had barely been scratched. Sirius had run into the ugly beasts multiple times, and they never tired this quickly.
Wary, Sirius took a shaky step forward when it happened. A cheetah he hadn't seen or heard, leaped out from inside the building behind him. It sailed straight out the busted window and collided with Sirius's shoulders. The two went sprawling to the ground, and the cheetah tumbled off of him, but got up immediately, followed by all the ones on the ground that had been playing possum.
Sirius coughed, and felt some blood leak out from between his lips. With blurred vision he looked up at the fast-advancing cheetahs. Numbly he made to raise his wand, only to realize it had been knocked far from his grasp. Horrified, he spotted it near a snow-clogged storm drain.
He had seconds before teeth would be digging into every inch of his body. Panicking, Sirius rolled over, only to feel a sharp jab of pain in his side. He had rolled onto the weapon from the ship. Desperate, he yanked the thing from his pocket got up onto his knees. He pointed it directly at the approaching pack, and hoping against hope that he was pointing it forward and not backwards at his own face, he began to frantically shake it, jerk it, and mash his fingers all up and down the handle.
"Please!" Sirius gasped. The lead cheetah was fewer than five feet from him.
The device began to shake. It was different than the last time. This time there was a god-awful cracking sound and three sequential flashes of bright red jettisoned out of the tip. They struck the oncoming cheetah with deadly precision, singing a hole almost right through its neck. The stench of burned flesh and fur was immediate and strong. The cheetah was blasted backwards into the road where it lay, smoking lightly.
It was like magic. The remaining three stopped in their tracks, intensely wary of Sirius's new weapon. He staggered to his feet, joints cracking and palms sweating. The cheetahs began to bark and cry, suddenly terrified of Sirius. They turned tail and fled, a sluggish trail of purplish fluid leaking to the ground from the one that had been hit by Sirius's curse.
Sirius clutched at his heart. He was amazed. The creatures knew this weapon and they were scared of it. James had been right. This was all the proof needed to link the mysterious aliens from the sky to the waves of slavering minions down below on the earth. Sirius ran to the edge of the sidewalk and threw himself down, searching for his fallen wand, but it was no use. In the scuffle, his wand had been knocked down the storm drain. Could he maybe borrow a different wand (read: could he steal Regulus's) and accio his own back? Sirius shoved a rock down the drain and heard it strike running water. His wand had surely been swept away it.
"Shit," he groaned, clunking his forehead into the slushy snow. This was going to be difficult to explain.
A sick crunching sound startled him back upright. He turned around and the sight was appalling. Several of the cheetahs had returned and were now crunching down on their dead brother.
Sirius's handsome face twisted in disgust. He brushed as much dirt and grime as he could off his robes and then set off for home, walking unnaturally fast for fear of being besieged again.
Sirius's near death experience with the cheetahs had not deterred him from his nighttime activities. By the time he was clambering back up the walls of his ancestral home (grimacing every time he slipped and accidentally kicked a window or storm drain) he was already planning his next escapade. James would be gone for a while, but that was no reason to halt Sirius's fun. He had other friends.
The mystery of the ship and the gun was intriguing, fascinating even, but it was not all consuming for Sirius. He had no desire to go back to that wreckage, nor was he of the mindset that the knowledge he had gained was anything that needed to be immediately shared. As he clambered in through the window, his mind was snugly occupied with thoughts of the dance club he and James had drug Remus to month before last, and the pretty people they'd met there. Perhaps Remus needed dragging again; it would be good for him…
The upstairs drawing room was frighteningly quiet and still. Sirius had half expected Regulus to be there waiting for him, which was an odd thing to expect because Regulus was so rarely free to roam the house.
Sirius crept back into his bedroom. He had to strike a match to light the lamps in the chandelier since he didn't have his wand anymore. He burned his hand doing it.
Sirius quickly shucked his wrecked clothing and slipped on something comfortable for sleeping. His bedroom was claustrophobic despite its size, and dark despite the chandelier. From each corner of the ceiling, drying plants hung, waiting to be used in a potion. The skins of lesser monsters he and James had managed to take down were hung across his desk, the back of his chair, and the bars in his closet. A set of Cheetah teeth dangled from the ceiling. His walls were papered with tacked up drawings, pictures and notes, most of them pertaining to the monsters, or the rare bits of technology that Sirius had come across. From the heap of dirty clothes on the floor, Sirius withdrew carefully his new gun, and set it softly on his nightstand next to several bizarre looking knives and a package of very tiny arrows.
It certainly was a find, this weapon, if only he had someone to teach him how exactly it worked.
Sirius was careful to point it away from his bed, and then he went to sleep.
He awoke the next morning to the sound of the breakfast bell, and groaned before rolling over. His head was pounding as a reminder of his adventure last night and for a moment he seriously considered demanding his breakfast be brought to him in bed. He thought better of it though. He was going to have to ask his parents for a new wand today, and come up with a believable excuse for why he lost his original one. He needed them in a good mood for that and being a brat this early in the morning was certainly not a good way to accomplish that. Besides, he had a violin lesson later this morning, if he wasn't mistaken.
He opened his eyes and blinked the sleep from them.
"Oh, shit!" he yelped, jumping up and scampering to the foot of the bed. The gun on his nightstand was pointing directly at his face, and was considerably closer than it had been the night before.
Somebody had moved it.
What he shit is this? I truly don't know. Found it lurking in a folder somewhere on my hard drive. So now it's here. I'm probably going to continue it, despite all the good reasons why I shouldn't.
Signed/Tenkuroi
