Chapter 29
Mulciber clicked his tongue, pulling the sleeve back over his watch and stood to his feet. "It's time lads, the floo should be down. Coordinate at the apparition point. Understand?"
There was a chorus of yeses around Harry which he hesitantly copied.
"Good." Mulciber spun in place, disappearing with a crack. The man standing to Harry's left disappeared a second later. Harry looked over and made eye contact with a grinning Flint. His smile grew even wider, and he gave Harry a fierce nod.
"Let's get this bastard, yeah?"
Harry stared, nonplussed, before returning it with a shaky nod of his own. Flint vanished with a crack. He stared around the empty room, the sound of his heart beating impossibly loud in his ears.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A bright silvery stag burst from his wand, galloping around the empty antechamber on silent hoofbeats.
"What are you doing?" Riddle hissed.
"I'm not playing along with this."
"Harry—"
Harry ignored him, turning towards his patronus. "Your floo is down, attackers are coming to the house, looking for you. You only have a few minutes before they reach you, get out if you can."
The stag reared up and dashed into the wall, passing through it in a shower of glimmering motes as it raced to his target. There were a few seconds of silence.
"That, was rash." The statement hung in the air, waiting for a response Harry wasn't going to provide. Because it was rash, and reckless, and every other thing he'd always been accused of being, but he still didn't regret it.
"What's done is done," Riddle finally sighed heavily. "I suppose Black meant something to you back in your world?"
"Yeah," Harry said simply, before something prompted him to clarify. "He was the closest thing to family I had."
"Ah right, because after your parents—I see. You realize we're dead if they realize you tipped him off?"
"I do."
Riddle let out a sound, like the air escaping from a tire. "At least in Dolohov's absence he's given us some leeway to play this out. I suppose it's not a bad idea to take the opportunity to sabotage these braying idiots—whatever it is they're building up to."
Harry nodded silently.
"Something to consider: if your warning doesn't work, what are you going to do? As much as I'd like to, simply killing them all and popping back here won't go over very well—unless you come up with a hell of an excuse."
"We'll figure it out as we go," Harry said. "Better apparate before they get suspicious."
"As is your wont," Riddle muttered, cut off by a violent lurching as they twisted through space, hurtling towards London in the sensation of a narrow tube.
Harry appeared on the road with a whisper of a crack, barely disturbing the heap of discarded newspapers and trash occupying the ground near his arrival. He was a few houses down the street, his familiarity with the location letting him arrive with pinpoint precision. The others were already waiting nearby, leaning against parked cars on the side of the street and looking markedly out of place in their expensive robes—except for Mulciber, who had his wand out and pointed at the building. Harry made his way over and felt an invisible weight settle over him.
"There you are kid, finally."
"Popped in a few streets over, sorry."
Mulciber grunted and waved him off. He brought his wand down and tapped it against a brick on the wall beside him, a pulse of wind rippling outwards, washing over the group.
"Anti-Apparition is anchored off my wand. Time to move in." Mulciber looked at the man Harry didn't recognize and nodded his head towards the building. "You first Varley."
Varley walked up to doorstep and pulled his wand out, tapping it against the door. Harry didn't hear anything but when the man pushed on the handle the door swung open, unlocked. The space beyond was pitch black; almost like the light from the streetlight behind them was being absorbed into the wood, preventing it from reaching more than a few inches into the house. Varley moved in without hesitation, vanishing into the gloom.
Harry frowned. It should have more protections than that, even if they already found the place. How did they dismantle those without anyone noticing? He eyed the brick where Mulciber anchored his jinx. If I could hang back, I—
"Move," Mulciber hissed from behind him. Flint and a reluctant Harry jogged up the steps and slipped inside, pulling out their own wands in the process. Mulciber followed last, closing the door behind them.
The entrance led to a long hallway, lit with gas lamps and an overhanging chandelier, casting a dim yellow glow over the group. The lamps burned at low light, keeping the hallway gloomy, but illuminated enough that Harry could notice the distinct lack of cobwebs and peeling wallpaper, or how the carpet looked rather new and unusually clean compared to how he remembered it. Clearly someone actually maintained it here in this world.
Varley led them farther into the house holding his wand in front of him protectively. Through unspoken agreement they all remained quiet, mimicking the oppressive ambiance of the house around them. The house was dead silent, beside the gentle brushing of their boots across the ground, no warning alarms or welcoming calls to greet their entrance, giving the appearance of an empty home. But was it actually? Had Sirius gotten his warning in time and escaped?
Varley passed by a section of the wall covered in a large black shroud, obscuring an enormous rectangular shape. He gave it a curious look but continued past, eyes fixed on the dim shape of the grand staircase on the far end of the hall. Harry took extra care not to disturb it.
The kitchen was dark, empty. Varley stepped onto the dark staircase and peered up, angling his head to track how it wound around itself all the way up to the top of the building, each floor branching away from it. He visibly grimaced in disgust at the plaque attached to one side where a house elf head was mounted. Harry's eyes narrowed in consternation. Only one? There should a row all the way up. If Sirius removed the rest, why keep this one?
"Creepy shit," Flint muttered to Harry, shaking his head.
"Shut it," Mulciber hissed from behind them. "Up. Find him."
Varley took another step up the staircase. His foot fell straight through the stair like it wasn't there, swallowing his leg up to the hip.
"Ah, shit."
A flash of something vaguely silver flickered in front of Harry, barely glinting in the dim light. Harry shielded his eyes from a spray of liquid that splashed over him, unpleasantly warm against his skin where it landed. There was a wail of pain from in front of him and he saw Varley collapse on the stairs, limp.
"Wha—" Flint's cry was interrupted by a bright flash, something detonating in a spray of crackling motes against a glowing surface a few inches in front of them. Mulciber grunted as the curse hit his shield, but held steady. Another handful of spells shot down the stairs at them, splashing across the shield in showers of colorful sparks—obscuring their vision of the shadowy floor above where their attacker was.
"Don't just stand there!" Mulciber yelled at Flint, who was gaping at the sudden assault, his wand held loosely at his side, momentarily forgotten. He blinked and shook his head, stepping back behind a banister to aim upwards.
Harry wiped his face, grimacing, and ducked down beside Varley, content to let Mulciber protect him. The man was slumped across the steps, a pool of dark liquid forming around him. Harry grabbed an arm and flipped him over onto his back. There was a series of deep gashes scored across his neck and upper chest; clean cuts revealing bone and ligament to the air, as blood pumped steadily out, soaking his robes and coating Harry's hands. He heaved the man's body away from the stairs, pulling it towards the kitchen.
Flint flung a spell upwards, filling Harry's nostrils with an acrid burning smell, and was rewarded by an answering explosion from the floor above, shaking the whole house. Harry looked at the wall and noticed the empty plaque hanging on the wall. He cracked a small smile. Kreacher, you crazy old bastard, was that you?
"Varley?" Mulciber gritted out, still holding the shimmering barrier in place.
"Pretty bad."
He snarled in response. "Okay—" He was cut off by a loud crack, a barely visible disturbance appearing in their midst. Mulciber's wand was a blur of movement, flickering from his shield to deflect a series of projectiles away from his face, smacking them away with causal flicks. The figure disappeared right as he spiked a curse into the ground they were standing on, blowing a smoking hole into the wood. Flint dived away from the staircase as his shield folded, shattering into a thousand translucent shards as a brilliant purple jet of light seared past his head.
Harry moved further away as well, pulling Varley closer to the kitchen wall. Mulciber whirled around, firing back up the stairs, throwing twisting shadows across Harry as the light from his barrage of curses briefly illuminated the ground floor.
Harry found his wand pointed at Mulciber, unaware, as he continued his assault. He adjusted his grip on the wand, fingers tingling with anticipation, the steady thrum of his heart beating in his mind as his vision focused in on the man's back. Looked like Sirius hadn't gotten out in time, and every second longer this fight continued was a higher chance he might get hurt, or captured. But could he get away with it? He could make something up Mulciber would buy, probably, he likely wouldn't give much of a shit—but how long would that hold up? If Sirius escapes then he'll go to the Aurors; and I know they have Ministry plants, enough to control the floo. They'd hear if he reported one of us took their own out.
Harry's wand lowered. I'll let it it play out for now, try and let Sirius escape on his own. If it looks like they've got him, then I'll step in.
The sound was his only warning as the shimmering figure appeared again, this time a few steps away from him. His wand moved on instinct, deflection charms spilling out of the end as he swung at the dim flickers he saw in the darkness. They connected with something solid, bouncing off with loud clangs that sent painful vibrations through his hand. Another gleam shot through the air directly at his head.
He jerked to the side, snatching it out of the air with his other hand. He turned it over, holding it up to the sparse light. The blade of a well honed knife shone back at him. The little psycho is throwing the kitchen knives at us, Harry thought fondly. Kreacher vanished again, but Harry saw the gentle shimmer of his disguise appear a few feet behind Flint. Unfortunately so did Flint, who turned with a protective charm already on his lips. As another volley of knives shot towards the man, Harry whipped his wand around. Might as well help the home team, if I can get away with it.
"Accio knives," He whispered.
The knives veered away from Flint, curving around his shield, and flying directly at Mulciber, who was standing between him and Harry. Mucliber saw them too late, his sideways jump not fast enough to prevent a pair of knives from punching into him, one stabbing deep into his thigh, the other shearing clean through his shoulder.
He bellowed in rage and pain, staggering away from the stairs as blood started coursing down his robes. Flint reeled in confusion, his head flickering between Mulciber and where he last saw Kreacher.
"Enough," Mulciber roared. He swung his wand wildly at the hallway behind them, wide sweeping motions that expelled shimmering strands of magic behind them, long ribbons of razor sharp magic spiraling through the hallway like the orchestrations of a mad conductor. Harry saw Kreacher's shape pop back into the hallway, unaware, just as one of the shimmering bands hit him. The blur flickered and then disappeared. Mulciber spun back around, and his eyes met Harry's, gleaming with madness.
"Is he dead?"
Harry blinked, before looking down at Varley. "Close. He'll bleed out soon."
Mulciber stomped over to them, edging along the side of the wall towards the kitchen to remain unseen from the floor above. He bent down beside Varley and started to cast a series of spells Harry recognized as basic triage charmwork. Harry, personally, hadn't been bothered to try. Mulciber laid Varley's head back down, his wounds closed but placed in an induced coma to prevent exacerbating them.
Flint was cowering on the other side of the stairs, alternating between staring longingly at the kitchen and sneaking fearful glances up the staircase.
"No time for this," Mulciber growled, favoring his injured leg. "Be ready to get up there when I give the word."
Harry nodded hesitantly. If Mulciber thought he could use Harry as a cannon fodder distraction to soak up curses while he followed behind, he was in for a rude awakening.
"Flint!" Mucliber barked. Flint looked over at them. "Get ready!"
Mulciber pointed his wand at him. There was a moment of confusion as Flint stared at the wand in puzzlement before Mulciber cast an Ascension charm on him. Flint was flung up in the air, rocketing up through the stairwell, startled curses bursting around him as he was deposited onto one of the upper levels. Mucliber tore out of the kitchen, racing up the stairs with Harry hot on his heels.
They sprinted towards the sounds of spellfire, leaping off the staircase into the hallway of the first floor. Jets of light flashed across the small space, trading between opposite rooms, blasting holes in walls and burning scorch marks across the hall décor. A body lay still in the center of the hallway, untouched by the furious duel happening above them.
A pair of voices were shouting at each other, angry and pained. Mulciber charged ahead of Harry, racing towards the battle. Flint ducked out of one of the rooms just as it exploded behind him, plumes of orange-ish smoke and flame chasing after him as he rolled into the hall. Harry caught a flicker of movement in one of the opposite rooms before a coruscating bolt flashed into the hallway and detonated against a hastily cast shield.
Mulciber pulled Flint to his feet as he passed, storming into the room where the spell originated with curses glowing on the tips of their wands. Harry ran in after them. The pair were standing in the middle of the empty room, looking around in confusion, pointing their wands at all the offending pieces of furniture.
"Where'd he go?" Flint asked.
"Trick rooms," Mulciber sneered. "Makes sense in an old-blood house like this. Paranoid bastards would want to be able to sneak around. Could be anywhere."
They filed back out of the room with Harry, stepping carelessly over the body still laying in the middle of the hallway without a second glance. It was a woman—one Harry didn't recognize. A wife? Girlfriend? He wasn't sure. The other two prowled around him, peeking into the neighboring rooms with glowing wands. He made his way over to the stairway and stared up into the dark heights.
With a practiced motion he flicked a piercing curse upwards, jerking his wand backwards just as it released. The odd-locking modified curse shot up into the darkness, slamming into the distant wall and rebounding with a loud clang. Harry maneuvered to the side, carefully lining himself up. It hit him like a punch, cracking against his shoulder hard enough to spin him around, and knock him off his feet.
"Upstairs!" he yelled from the ground, holding on to his aching shoulder.
Mulciber and Flint charged forward, firing curses wildly into the air as they leaped up the steps. Harry quietly rose to his feet as they left. He made his way back to the woman, a silent healing spell easing the pain from his own curse as he knelt down beside her still form, casting a series of diagnostic charms on her. Who knows what Flint got her with. There was a nasty swelling pushing against the fabric of her sleeve, producing a noticeable bulge. He tugged her sleeve up, revealing a mess of purple and green skin, the contusions blooming from her elbow all the way up to to her shoulder.
"Merlin, Flint, they told you nothing lethal," Harry swore to himself. He started to cast a stasis spell on the arm to keep the curse from spreading.
The back of his neck itched as he felt the beginning of a spell form behind him. Jumping to his feet he spun with the same movement, whipping around. His left hand flashed in front of him on instinct, smacking a curse out of the air, the metal of his hand screeching as arcs of magical static streaked across it, dancing between his fingers. A wary looking Sirius Black looked back at him from a few feet away, wand slightly lowered in confusion.
Harry grimaced as the feedback coursed up his arm, forcing painful convulsions through his muscles.
"Hey—"
Harry was interrupted by another spell, as Sirius snapped out of his temporary befuddlement and threw a brilliant curse right at his head. He raised his hand, still sparking from the last curse, and met it head-on—the curse smacked into his palm and exploded, the magic from the two different spells mixing, and destructing, in a violent burst. There was a deafening boom, and a wave of super-heated air that rushed past Harry, threatening to rip him off his feet as he braced against the scorching wind. Sirius was caught unprepared and thrown back into the wall behind him. He struggled to pull himself to his feet, slightly unsteady.
"Sirius listen," Harry started.
Sirius threw himself away from the wall, a bright red jet of light flashing out of his wand. Harry casually deflected it to the side. He blocked another, then sent a Piercer straight through the eye of a transfigured badger, another flick of his wand and a coil of animated ropes dissolved into moths. Sirius growled at him and lurched forward, throwing himself towards the ground. Halfway down his body shifted, melting into itself, as a black dog landed on all fours, teeth bared at Harry before launching across the hallway.
Harry spun away, his wand flickering behind him. The grim shot past him, claws scratching across an invisible barrier with a piercing squeal. The floor beneath where it landed turned to tar, sucking in its back paws, and keeping it fixed in place. The grim dug furiously on the ground in front to pull itself out. It looked up in panic as Harry leveled his wand at it. With another swirl of motion Sirius returned, stuck up to his ankles in the floorboards.
Before he could reverse the transfiguration holding him Harry got his spell off.
"Expecto Patronum,"
Sirius froze, staring in shock at the glowing stag prancing a circle around him.
"Impossible," He muttered.
"Did you get my warning?" Harry asked.
Sirius blinked slowly, like he was dazed, before narrowing his eyes at Harry.
"Your—yes I did. I—I thought that was James," He said, the last part mumbled almost only to himself. Harry winced. He should have thought of that.
"Sorry, no. I'm—a plant, infiltrating the group that's targeting you tonight—the same ones that went after the Potters at the quidditch league final.
Sirius cocked his head, examining Harry, before his eyes lit up. "You're Riddle's kid—the one James kept talking about."
"I—yeah, that's me."
Sirius nodded, all the tension suddenly bleeding out of his shoulders. "Righty then. Quick, let's get Pris into the drawing room before those baboons come back, I want to make sure she's alright." A flick of his wand and he was free from the floor, before reaching down with his wand and gently levitating the woman off the floor. Harry's eyebrows creeped up his face in surprise.
"You believe me? That fast?"
Sirius shrugged, like it was obvious. "Way I see it, your warning probably saved my life so I already owe you that. And I've heard plenty about you already from James, and if he vouches for you, that's good enough for me."
Bemused, Harry followed Sirius into the room, eyeing the grand staircase at the end of the hallway as Sirius laid the woman out onto a couch.
"Quick," Harry urged. "I don't know how long they'll stay distracted up there."
Sirius snorted. "More than you'd think. Thanks to your warning I was able to leave out some—nasty—stuff, mementos from my dear old family, some tricks of my own. Plus Kreacher, that elf, will keep them on their toes; should've patched himself up by now, the tough little blighter."
Harry felt a smile tugging on his face.
"How'd you end up with these lunatics, anyway? I heard Riddle stamped them all out after that quidditch match, and he's one for being thorough. Always rather admired that about him."
"I guess not in this instance," Harry said, waiting for the retaliatory pain from his chest. It never came. Guess Riddle wasn't above admitting that mistake.
"They're being a bit more discreet—tried to get me with the Imperious, same as what they wanted to do with you tonight. I threw it off, but I've been playing along on the inside, trying to figure out their endgame and sabotage them when I can."
Sirius whistled. "That's ballsy kid. Riddle makes some scary bastards, that's for damn sure."
"Yeah well, I've thrown a bit of a wrench in it by helping you," Harry sighed. "Do you have any idea why they'd be targeting you?"
"Not specifically," Sirius mused, scrunching his face up in thought as he continued to cast healing charms on the insensate woman. "I mean, obviously I'm a Lieutenant Auror, friends with James Potter, part of the Black family. There are plenty of reasons—I don't know enough about this group to know which one they're up in arms about." Harry hadn't known the Auror bit—it forced him to reassess the man in front of him. A lieutenant was only one step down from the Head Auror; which meant Sirius was one of the highest ranked members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—the part of the government that would be tasked with responding to these wannabe Death Eaters. That certainly seemed reason enough to target him. He told Sirius as much.
Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. Is it weird to feel proud about someone wanting to kill me on my own merits instead of because of my family?"
"I understand the sentiment, but yes, that's kinda weird."
Sirius shrugged. "Oh well."
"Listen, do you have a way for the pair of you to sneak out of here? We could go back down the staircase but I'd like to avoid running into my...comrades if I can help it. It'd be easier to explain that you sneaked out rather than you escaped, and everyone else died."
"Yeah, there's a way to the ground floor, a hidden passage. If there's no one waiting outside the front door, we'll be in the clear."
"Great," Harry sighed in relief.
"You're not coming with us?" Sirius asked, a contemplative look on his face. "You could take the chance to sneak out, and with my escape we could go to the authorities and get them looking into all the names you've got."
Harry shook his head sadly. "They—have something over my head, something more than the Imperious. If they think I've defected, or possibly MIA or dead, they'll follow through, which I can't let happen."
"What, and how long are you gonna let them control you? Forever? Eventually you'll have to stop."
"Believe me, I'm working on it, I'm just not quite there yet. I have to stay—just for a bit longer."
Sirius gave him a measured look. His eyes hardened and he met Harry's squarely. "Then so will I."
Harry gaped at him, nonplussed. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Look, as soon as they learn I escaped, they'll scatter back into their hidey-holes for a few months and we'll be back in the dark about what's happening. Hell, they may follow through on that leverage they have on you, just because you failed. But what if I joined you? It'd look like a success, and they'd continue with business as planned. But you'd have another man on the inside, someone you can rely on so its not all on your head, someone to help you sabotage their plans—and, at the right moment, we break and crash the whole thing down on their heads."
Sirius waved his hands wildly as he talked, beaming excitedly at Harry. Harry shook his head.
"No, no this—that's too dangerous."
"Too dangerous for an experienced Lieutenant Auror but not for some reckless kid? Look, I get that you think you gotta do this alone, but James'll kill me if I let you. He's awfully fond of you, you know."
Harry felt the defiance seep out of him at that statement, his shoulders dropping in resignation. Sirius gave him a victorious grin.
"Fine," Harry snapped. "But you know you'll have to be under the Imperius to make it work, right?"
"Can't we do a fake one, like yours?" Sirius frowned.
"You sure you can keep up the act that well under scrutiny?" He cut in as Sirius gave him an affronted scowl. "Because if you make a mistake you could kill us both, just like that. These guys aren't playing games. You want to risk that?" Sirius drooped, grimacing.
"Still excited to play spy?"
"Less now," Sirius groused.
"If it makes you feel better I'm…quite familiar with the spell. I should be able to dull its potency, and reinforce the commands for lucidity enough so that most of the time you'll feel normal, and unimpaired. But if you're not comfortable with that—then you're probably just sane."
"Well no one's accused me of that before, let's not start now," Sirius declared pompously.
"You really trust me to do this?"
Sirius winked at him. "Call it a hunch. Do it."
Harry nodded seriously.
"Alright then. Imperio."
Mucliber and Flint eventually trudged their way back down to where he was calling them from. The pair limped into the drawing room looking much the worse for wear, blood and grime streaked across their robes, which themselves were riddled with rips, arms and legs hanging awkwardly. One half of Flint's face was totally lacking hair, the other covered in painful looking hives. Seemed Grimmauld, and Kreacher, had given them a hell of a beating.
They stopped and stared on seeing the straight backed figure of Sirius Black, standing at attention next to Harry, no wand in sight.
"You got him?" Mulciber asked, almost disbelievingly.
"Yeah. Waited by the woman, figured he might have been making a distraction so that he could make his way back to her. Caught him trying to sneak out with her body."
"Smart thinking," Mulciber said, a crooked smile slowly creeping across his face. "Damn good. Mission success, now let's get out of this hellhole of a house."
Flint beamed at Harry, giving him a rough cuff on the shoulder as he walked past. Harry resisted the urge to feed him his teeth. A quick Obliviation was cast on Pris, left unconscious on the couch, before the whole group vanished into the house's floo, Sirius in tow carrying an unconscious Varley.