Dont own Hp nor am I JKR
just had a fun idea for a hp story
A child born in darkness; a foolish choice wrapped in the greater good. May lead to the darkest ages the world has yet to see. Stolen away in the black of night, the chill may freeze her heart forever.
The seer rose from her chair by the power of mother magic herself and terrified her husband as the chillingly cold voice which was not his wives floated around the room.
And yet, Mother magic has taken pity on the whole for one man's evil and given us a chance. Another half may complete them or destroy them. If the child is made whole, they'll rid the world of our evil but, If the child is destroyed, so will be life as you know it, for the darkest of all Lords and Ladies will rise from the ashes.
The whites of his wife's eye shone through their kitchen as the ethereal voice gave it's warning through her, when the magic was finished the seer collapsed to the floor. Never to remember what she had uttered but her husband would never forget. A prophecy. He filed it secretly at the department of mysteries where it now laid, ten years later identified only by a little plaque that read.
'Prophecy given by; ?
Prophecy about; ?
Prophecy in reference to A potential new dark Lord/Lady'
Sirius Black, the man himself was an enigma. As the auror passed all the high security prisoners during his nightly rounds he couldn't help but shake his head at the man that Black had become. They'd been together in the academy, shared drinks over victories and tears over losses. The auror had once watched Sirius Black go spell for spell against his cousin, Bellatrix Black and now their cells shared a wall.
It was too hard to understand the change, that was why most didn't try. How could the man who had been the best man at the Potters wedding, had been James' best friend sell them out to the dark lord he had fought against for years. Maybe it was the grief at losing his wife and daughter all in one night, but it didn't explain the betrayal over a year later. Oh well, the auror mused to himself must be the Black Insanity.
Meanwhile inside that dingy dark cell, Sirius imagined a different world, a different life. It was all he could do now, think of what could have been. He still remembered laying beautiful little Lyra into her bassinet that night, charming the ceiling above his new babe to show the constellation he loved most, hers. Remembered kissing his wife goodbye, urgently as the aurors had called, there was an attack on Diagon Alley, they had lost Fabian and Gideon that day. They needed the manpower and Sirius had been fresh out of the academy eager to fight, and now with a cause to fight for, protecting his girls.
What he tried to forget, even as the dementors ran their ghostly hands over his cell door and dragged his worst, darkest memories forward was the day that followed the fight. He had apparated out of the Alley with James, they had clutched at each other before apparating to Rowena's Forest where his quaint little cottage sat. Though they had just lost men they loved and respected Sirius, remembered brimming with pride and happiness at the prospect of introducing his best friend to his little bundle of joy. As they walked across the village bordering the forest, the cottage had come into view and Sirius had smiled. He had turned to look at James before voicing his thoughts," Actually James, I was wondering if you would be Lyra's god-" Sirius remembered falling to his knees after that, in the time he had turned to his friend while opening the door the sight greeting him past the door had stolen the words out of his mouth. And, Sirius thought bitterly now, the love out of his heart.
That was because greeting them past the doorway, was not his wife or at least not how Sirius wanted to remember her, because the sight was grotesque. His wife laid on their kitchen table as if crucified there, and he did not think that there was a place in the kitchen that blood did not touch, Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling and her creamy tan skin was now pale as ice as if all the light had left her, and Sirius thought darkly to himself that all the light in his life had left him that day too. The moments that past was a blur to Sirius's memories, remembering James' hand on his shoulder, remembering little Lyra and racing to the nursery, seeing more blood but no child. After that it had been like his brain had stopped working, the buzzing in his ear only increased when the Aurors James had called had showed up, asked questions as the buzz grew even louder until it was almost deafening.
They had taken his wife, the love of his life to St. Mungos morgue. Her cause of death had been the killing curse but the moments before the curse had not been quick nor kind. Torture. Ten years later, Sirius still sucked in a breath of shock at the treatment of the love of his life. The blood in the nursery had been confirmed as little Lyra's with diagnostic spells cast by a healer, who had told him the news with tears in her eyes that such a loss of blood in a child her size was a death sentence.
Sirius let the tears drip down his face and thought of the one person he blamed more than himself.
Dumbledore.
Sirius and James had gone to their old headmaster, gotten advice on their homes wards and still that hadn't been enough, like Albus had said it would be. In fact, the old man, his eyes twinkling had told Sirius it was more than enough. Sirius had been in Azkaban for maybe seven months when he had learned that Dumbledore had personally vouched for Snivellus Snape and helped the death eater escape a prison sentence but had not even offered a hand of support to Sirius when he had been thrown in Azkaban for crimes he did not commit.