Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter three - cheating fate
The pain, fear, and disbelief that filtered across Harry's face made Sirius wish he had looked away. Harry's absolute disregard for his own life was shocking. Somewhere along their godfather - godson relationship, Harry suddenly turned and tried to protect him; which, Sirius thought, was absolutely ridiculous and left a biting sense of guilt. He didn't deserve help, especially not from Harry. He was the one who took away his parents in the first place.
"Sirius, you can't…" Harry whispered, his voice shaking for the first time.
Sirius smiled reassuringly, drawing Harry back into another hug. But the cold voice took any warmth out of the gesture.
"This is all very touching, but your time is up. What do you say, Black?"
Harry struggled to pull away, obviously trying to answer in his place, but Sirius crushed him against his robes and muffled his words.
"I'm staying."
There was a murmur of voices from the Death Eaters, but Voldermort looked even more amused. Harry fell limp at the decision, and was now clutching at Sirius' robes, shaking with silent sobs. Sirius rubbed his back soothingly, but that only seemed to aggravate the boy more.
"Really?" Voldermort grinned. "How… predictable. I'm rather disappointed." He waved his hand, twirling his wand idly. "Oh well, for the matter at hand. Potter, stop with your bawling and face me."
Sirius instinctively pulled Harry closer, but he resisted. Suddenly, hands were on him, tearing him away.
"No!" he cried, struggling. But the past few weeks left him drained, his limbs were sluggish and weak. Desperately, he reached out for Harry's hand, a but hurt when Harry didn't respond. Instead, Harry turned to him calmly and mouthed
'Don't worry.'
Sirius was amazed at the change. One minute, he was crying into his shirt, and the next, his eyes were hard and cold, without traces of any tears.
Harry didn't feel as strong as he looked. Rather, he felt a bit sick, even worse than the time he walked into the chamber of secrets knowing that in any corner was a giant snake waiting to poison him or swallow him whole. He forced himself to meet Voldermort's gaze unflinchingly; the pain in the scar had become so persistent that he could almost ignore it.
"Are we going to duel?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Voldermort was too smart to risk prior incantum again, and he wouldn't risk putting himself at a disadvantage by changing wands. Either way, Harry wouldn't be able to keep his wand, and when Sirius was speaking to Voldermort, he slipped his it into one of Sirius' pockets. Hopefully, Sirius would find it and use it to leave when the opportunity came up, but knowing him, that was next to impossible.
"No," Voldermort smiled, looking amazingly calm. Harry wondered if he had finally learned to bid his time, unlike the burst of hatred and anger at the third task only a month and a half ago.
"I'm just going to kill you."
Harry's stomach fell. Beside him, Sirius made a sound of protest, but was instantly silenced when a hand covered his mouth. For a moment, Harry felt a flash of fear, but he soon recognized Snape's bony fingers. It was better for Sirius to be silent, Harry decided, than to have him yelling out in protest and being punished by Voldermort.
That distraction was enough time for Voldermort to shout the disarming curse. Harry watched in satisfaction as the spell hit him and produced no reaction.
"What?" Voldermort looked furious, his calm demeanor was completely forgotten. "You don't have a wand?"
One of the cloaked figures stood forward quickly. "My lord, he had his wand in the graveyard."
There was a murmur of agreement.
Harry shifted, a sense of desperation beginning to come as he realized just how many cloaked figures there were. He was unarmed in a place full of enemies, facing a person he was going to kill him without a fight. The sense of hopelessness made him rash, and as the cloaked men were musing over what happened to Harry's wand, he flung himself at the nearest Death Eater intent on stealing his weapon.
There was an instant outcry, but no one came forward to help. Harry barely noticed this, only surprised that the man he attacked didn't give much of a fight. Recognition suddenly hit him when he noticed the silver hand.
"Pettigrew!" Harry shouted angrily.
The wand was forgotten as Harry tried to land some blows on his face. The watery eyed man pushed him away and practically ran to the other side of the room, his wand left rolling on the floor. Harry picked up the unfamiliar weapon, and was about to curse some of the men holding Sirius, when something struck his back and knocked him to the floor.
Instantly, his veins burst with pain. Hot blades seemed to fill his blood, and his entire body felt like somebody had thrown boiling water on his skin. Harry screamed, unable to hold it back, and he could feel himself writhing on the ground. As abruptly as the curse came, it stopped. Harry lay panting on the cold floor, blinking against the black spots, before he noticed the laughter in the room. Angrily, he dragged himself to his feet and glared.
"Got yourself a wand?" Voldermort sneered. "I doubt that would do you any good."
"Stufey!" Harry shouted. The wand trembled beneath his hand, almost as if it was afraid of him. The spell was sluggish and slow, nothing like the reaction time of his own wand.
Voldermort only raised his eyebrow, but his expression of smugness soon changed when a body fell behind him. One of the cloaked figures fell face down to the stone floor, and his enemy frowned, obviously trying to decide whether that was on purpose or not.
Harry threw another stunning curse at the direction of a Death Eater who came a bit too close. Harry had been aiming to get rid of as many Death Eaters as possible, and not actually attacking Voldermort right off. His minions were his strength; without them Tom Riddle was nothing but an orphan with a little too much anger.
Harry landed another well aimed jelly-leg hex and a body-binding curse before Voldermort realized what he was doing. For the brief moment when he looked thorn whether to take time counter-cursing his minions or attacking the boy. Harry took the opportunity and shouted the first thing that came to his mind.
"Riddikulus!"
It was rather stupid, Harry realized as soon as he said it. The curse was for boggarts, and not humans. He wouldn't be surprised if there was no reaction. There was a blinding flash and a puff of smoke as all the Death Eaters shrieked in fear. Harry held his breath, wondering what would meet his eyes.
The fog cleared, and a tall teenager with icy brown eyes and smooth brown hair stared back at him in horror.
"Tom Riddle!" Harry gasped. He hadn't realized it would work, or that he would consider Voldermort's most insulting form his youth. Frankly, if he had known, he would of imagined Voldermort headless or something to that effect.
All those thoughts were lost when Riddle turned his gaze on him. Harry could feel his insides churning under his furious stare.
"Avada Kedeva!" he screamed, pointing his wand.
Harry ducked, and felt a hot fire past above him. He sprang forward, rapidly deciding that staying in one place was not a good idea.
"Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva!"
By some miracle, Harry managed to dodge them all. But the third passed disturbingly close to his arm, and he could almost feel it as it passed. A figure slumped forward, and Harry barely managed to get out of the way when he fell.
"Hex him! Stun him! Don't just stand there, you fools!"
Harry's eyes widened in horror when all the cloaked figures jumped into action, wand raised. He certainly had no chance anymore. He ducked a couple stunning spells, streaking the ceiling red, dimly aware of a few falling from the curse. He body-binded a few that were close and disarmed a some others before they were on him. Harry cried out when he felt hands grabbing him, and instinctively fought back. He heard a grunt when his leg struck something hard, and another cry of pain when jammed his elbow back. But he soon lost count of the number of arms pushing him down, and his vision was only a mass of black shapes. He kicked blindly and waved his hands around, before a sharp slap and a kick forced the breath out of his lungs. He coughed violently, but as he tried to drag in more air, another foot met his ribs, and another, and another. Soon, he lost all attempts of fighting, only covering his face protectively and drawing himself into a small ball. There were so many hands hitting him that it felt like one uniform giant, trying to crush him from above.
"Enough!"
The hands were instantly gone. Gasping, Harry turned and tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but every movement jabbed his ribs and sent flashes down his back. He coughed, heart sinking when he tasted blood in his mouth.
He could feel rather than see Voldermort's smug smile as he approached. Harry groaned when his head throbbed with pain.
"Pity," he hissed close to his ear. "I guess this is the end, isn't it?"
Harry moaned again, as he tried to turn and face his enemy.
"No! Stop, st ---," the voice sank to angry sounds.
Harry realized, with a sinking heart, that Sirius had probably freed himself from Snape. Voldermort stood and turned from him. He's going to kill Sirius, Harry realized, stomach becoming ice. He's going to kill him to torture me.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry whispered hoarsely, pointing the barely intact wand at Voldermort's back. The force only seemed to knock him forward slightly, and brown eyes turned to face him with an amused smile.
"You actually thought that would work?" he asked, his voice young, but still with a tone of malice.
Harry fumed, glaring back at his eyes with the hatred that had been building for years. With a cry, he flung himself at Riddle, taking him by surprise, and knocking him to the floor. That action was beyond stupid, but the anger made him rash. For a brief moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to plunge his wand into Riddle's eye. But before he could even raise his arms, hands pulled him back. Riddle stood, nursing a broken lip, glaring at Harry with an frostbitten gaze.
"Bring Black," he shouted, not taking his eyes off Harry.
Harry screamed silently, desperately praying that Voldermort wouldn't kill him right away. Maybe Sirius already found the wand in his pocket. Please, please, please… let Sirius find the wand.
Sirius was hauled forward, although he seemed to be walking faster than the Death Eaters. Snape followed, a makeshift bandage on a bloody hand. Sirius probably bit him, Harry realized with dry humor. He must have tasted awful.
"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked quietly, watching him with concern.
Voldermort laughed, a much different laugh, but it still sent shivers down his spine. "It won't matter in a few minutes," Sirius' eyes instantly became hard and cold, and Harry could barely recognize him. "You're going to wish you left, Black."
Harry blinked in confusion, wondering what he was planning, but his heart sank when Riddle raised his wand.
"Imperio."
Instantly, Sirius slumped forward, eyes glazed and empty. He stood, staring at the floor for a few seconds, before he looked up. His movements were slow and jerky, like some poorly mastered puppeteer. He raised his hand, and for a moment, Harry wondered what Voldermort was making him do.
Slap!
Stunned, Harry couldn't even gasp. His cheek stung and burned. Instinctively, he brought his hand to touch it, staring at Sirius in disbelief.
Another blow sent him sprawling on the floor. Harry cried out in pain when his ribs were jostled. There was blood rushing in streams from his mouth; the second blow had jabbed his jaw into his tongue. Before he could even pull himself up, Sirius was on him again, twisting his arm back at an awkward angle.
"No!" Harry shouted, trying to turn his head. "Fight it, Sirius! I know you can. Don't listen to him!"
There was a sickening crack, and Harry screamed. It was like hot iron, pressed against his skin, and flames licking at his right arm. Tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Dimly, he noticed the odd twist of his arm above the elbow. Harry fell to the floor limply when Sirius finally let go, too tired and drained to move. For a moment, he thought Voldermort had released the curse, but that hope soon sank. A foot kicked him over, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He blinked back tears, wondering what Sirius was doing.
Warm hands closed like a clamp on his throat. Gasping, Harry's eyes shot open. He looked at the arms choking him in disbelief, and then at Sirius' glazed and deadened eyes. For a moment, they flickered, and then tears were running down his face.
He's too tired to fight it, Harry realized. But he must feel so guilty right now. Killing me would shatter him.
His vision was starting to swim, and Sirius' tear streaked face blurred. Harry could feel Sirius' hands trembling, but the clamp around his throat didn't loosen.
"It's not your fault," Harry wanted to say, but only a muffled cough came out.
Slowly, he reached up and to touch Sirius' face, but his entire body felt like lead. His hand was shaking violently, and he could barely see it in front of his eyes. He could feel his fingers touching moist skin, and grinned as reassuringly as he could.
It's not your fault, he repeated inside his head. I forgive you.
There was a strangled gasp, and the grip on his neck instantly slacked. Harry coughed weakly as air flooded back into his lungs, and the room slowly became brighter. Distantly, he could feel himself be picked up and enveloped in a warm embrace, and a sound of crying close to his ear.
"Oh god, Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," it whispered over and over again.
"It's not your fault," Harry managed to choke out between gasps.
The hold tightened, and Harry winced when an arm brushed the broken limb. Sirius immediately loosened his grip, nesting Harry's head under his chin. He avoided his eyes, afraid to accept the forgiveness that Harry seemed so willing to give.
"Interesting," said a cold voice behind him. "Looks like Black can break it too, although," Riddle grinned at Sirius as he turned to face him with a fiery glare. "Potter would have broken it seconds after it was put on him. Disappointing, to say the least."
Sirius' anger flattered for a moment as he turned back to look at his godson. Harry leaned against him limply, still gasping for air, his finger prints livid against his neck. Sirius swallowed, guilt flooding him and bringing tears back to his eyes. He had always wanted to protect him, but he was the one that nearly killed him! Even Harry was stronger than him. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, because he looked up quickly and squeezed his hand reassuringly. That seemed to double his guilt.
Suddenly, Harry convulsed and twisted in his gasp, a scream escaping from his lips. Sirius shouted out in alarm, trying to hold him still, when realization dawned on him. He spun around, noticing Voldermort's smug smile. The Cruicatus curse, Sirius realized.
"No!" he shouted angrily, holding Harry against him and trying to put him between the curse. "He can't take much more! He'll die."
Harry's screams stopped abruptly and he sank limply against Sirius again, gasping and coughing. Sirius noted in alarm the amount of blood on his face.
"Perhaps that was the idea," Voldermort sneered behind him. "Or maybe, you'll go first, Black?"
Harry grunted in protest, but was too tired to speak. Sirius nodded, looking at Riddle firmly. He couldn't let Harry die, but the chances of him surviving was already rather slim. His fault, all his fault! Sirius wiped some of the blood from Harry's face with the edge of his tattered robe.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in Harry's ear. And then hands were pulling him away again, leaving Harry lying motionlessly against the cold floor.
"Are you watching, Potter?" Voldermort asked, waiting for Harry to look up. Sirius was about to tell him not to, when a foot kicked his side and he cried out.
Harry's head snapped up in an instant, fear written on his face.
"Ava--"
Sirius' heart sank. This was the end.
"NO!"
*
Voldermort seems way too nice. Sirius seems a bit less aggressive than he usually would be, although, he was tortured for two weeks, so I guess he gets some slack. but... the characterizations aren't that great.
A cliffe, I'm evil aren't I? Actually, this chapter ended where everything was resolved, but at the resquest of my friend, I chopped it. But I shouldn't give her all the blame… *sigh* sorry, this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one. Review review review! I write faster that way.
Peacock girl - thanks!
Kat - yup, I love Sirius and Harry stories too. Their relationship could be developed really well.
Sami - I'm working on it!
Vmr - I thought so too, but Sirius is stubborn….
Abbisegail - happy birthday!
Gia - yup, Sirius is the type who will stick to Harry till the end. He probably wouldn't leave even under wand point. Humm…
Heaven - yup, I'm trying
Rita - thanks!
Tilly - I'm glad you like their characterization! I don't think anyone's inherently bad… hopefully, I don't disappoint you anytime soon.
Jj - thanks!
Lady foxfire - nope. Harry's a good little innocent boy.
Fire fairy - thanks! I hope you can't tell this one was cut off either… although…. It does end pretty abruptly… humm…
MercS - yup, here's the next chapter!
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter three - cheating fate
The pain, fear, and disbelief that filtered across Harry's face made Sirius wish he had looked away. Harry's absolute disregard for his own life was shocking. Somewhere along their godfather - godson relationship, Harry suddenly turned and tried to protect him; which, Sirius thought, was absolutely ridiculous and left a biting sense of guilt. He didn't deserve help, especially not from Harry. He was the one who took away his parents in the first place.
"Sirius, you can't…" Harry whispered, his voice shaking for the first time.
Sirius smiled reassuringly, drawing Harry back into another hug. But the cold voice took any warmth out of the gesture.
"This is all very touching, but your time is up. What do you say, Black?"
Harry struggled to pull away, obviously trying to answer in his place, but Sirius crushed him against his robes and muffled his words.
"I'm staying."
There was a murmur of voices from the Death Eaters, but Voldermort looked even more amused. Harry fell limp at the decision, and was now clutching at Sirius' robes, shaking with silent sobs. Sirius rubbed his back soothingly, but that only seemed to aggravate the boy more.
"Really?" Voldermort grinned. "How… predictable. I'm rather disappointed." He waved his hand, twirling his wand idly. "Oh well, for the matter at hand. Potter, stop with your bawling and face me."
Sirius instinctively pulled Harry closer, but he resisted. Suddenly, hands were on him, tearing him away.
"No!" he cried, struggling. But the past few weeks left him drained, his limbs were sluggish and weak. Desperately, he reached out for Harry's hand, a but hurt when Harry didn't respond. Instead, Harry turned to him calmly and mouthed
'Don't worry.'
Sirius was amazed at the change. One minute, he was crying into his shirt, and the next, his eyes were hard and cold, without traces of any tears.
Harry didn't feel as strong as he looked. Rather, he felt a bit sick, even worse than the time he walked into the chamber of secrets knowing that in any corner was a giant snake waiting to poison him or swallow him whole. He forced himself to meet Voldermort's gaze unflinchingly; the pain in the scar had become so persistent that he could almost ignore it.
"Are we going to duel?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Voldermort was too smart to risk prior incantum again, and he wouldn't risk putting himself at a disadvantage by changing wands. Either way, Harry wouldn't be able to keep his wand, and when Sirius was speaking to Voldermort, he slipped his it into one of Sirius' pockets. Hopefully, Sirius would find it and use it to leave when the opportunity came up, but knowing him, that was next to impossible.
"No," Voldermort smiled, looking amazingly calm. Harry wondered if he had finally learned to bid his time, unlike the burst of hatred and anger at the third task only a month and a half ago.
"I'm just going to kill you."
Harry's stomach fell. Beside him, Sirius made a sound of protest, but was instantly silenced when a hand covered his mouth. For a moment, Harry felt a flash of fear, but he soon recognized Snape's bony fingers. It was better for Sirius to be silent, Harry decided, than to have him yelling out in protest and being punished by Voldermort.
That distraction was enough time for Voldermort to shout the disarming curse. Harry watched in satisfaction as the spell hit him and produced no reaction.
"What?" Voldermort looked furious, his calm demeanor was completely forgotten. "You don't have a wand?"
One of the cloaked figures stood forward quickly. "My lord, he had his wand in the graveyard."
There was a murmur of agreement.
Harry shifted, a sense of desperation beginning to come as he realized just how many cloaked figures there were. He was unarmed in a place full of enemies, facing a person he was going to kill him without a fight. The sense of hopelessness made him rash, and as the cloaked men were musing over what happened to Harry's wand, he flung himself at the nearest Death Eater intent on stealing his weapon.
There was an instant outcry, but no one came forward to help. Harry barely noticed this, only surprised that the man he attacked didn't give much of a fight. Recognition suddenly hit him when he noticed the silver hand.
"Pettigrew!" Harry shouted angrily.
The wand was forgotten as Harry tried to land some blows on his face. The watery eyed man pushed him away and practically ran to the other side of the room, his wand left rolling on the floor. Harry picked up the unfamiliar weapon, and was about to curse some of the men holding Sirius, when something struck his back and knocked him to the floor.
Instantly, his veins burst with pain. Hot blades seemed to fill his blood, and his entire body felt like somebody had thrown boiling water on his skin. Harry screamed, unable to hold it back, and he could feel himself writhing on the ground. As abruptly as the curse came, it stopped. Harry lay panting on the cold floor, blinking against the black spots, before he noticed the laughter in the room. Angrily, he dragged himself to his feet and glared.
"Got yourself a wand?" Voldermort sneered. "I doubt that would do you any good."
"Stufey!" Harry shouted. The wand trembled beneath his hand, almost as if it was afraid of him. The spell was sluggish and slow, nothing like the reaction time of his own wand.
Voldermort only raised his eyebrow, but his expression of smugness soon changed when a body fell behind him. One of the cloaked figures fell face down to the stone floor, and his enemy frowned, obviously trying to decide whether that was on purpose or not.
Harry threw another stunning curse at the direction of a Death Eater who came a bit too close. Harry had been aiming to get rid of as many Death Eaters as possible, and not actually attacking Voldermort right off. His minions were his strength; without them Tom Riddle was nothing but an orphan with a little too much anger.
Harry landed another well aimed jelly-leg hex and a body-binding curse before Voldermort realized what he was doing. For the brief moment when he looked thorn whether to take time counter-cursing his minions or attacking the boy. Harry took the opportunity and shouted the first thing that came to his mind.
"Riddikulus!"
It was rather stupid, Harry realized as soon as he said it. The curse was for boggarts, and not humans. He wouldn't be surprised if there was no reaction. There was a blinding flash and a puff of smoke as all the Death Eaters shrieked in fear. Harry held his breath, wondering what would meet his eyes.
The fog cleared, and a tall teenager with icy brown eyes and smooth brown hair stared back at him in horror.
"Tom Riddle!" Harry gasped. He hadn't realized it would work, or that he would consider Voldermort's most insulting form his youth. Frankly, if he had known, he would of imagined Voldermort headless or something to that effect.
All those thoughts were lost when Riddle turned his gaze on him. Harry could feel his insides churning under his furious stare.
"Avada Kedeva!" he screamed, pointing his wand.
Harry ducked, and felt a hot fire past above him. He sprang forward, rapidly deciding that staying in one place was not a good idea.
"Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva!"
By some miracle, Harry managed to dodge them all. But the third passed disturbingly close to his arm, and he could almost feel it as it passed. A figure slumped forward, and Harry barely managed to get out of the way when he fell.
"Hex him! Stun him! Don't just stand there, you fools!"
Harry's eyes widened in horror when all the cloaked figures jumped into action, wand raised. He certainly had no chance anymore. He ducked a couple stunning spells, streaking the ceiling red, dimly aware of a few falling from the curse. He body-binded a few that were close and disarmed a some others before they were on him. Harry cried out when he felt hands grabbing him, and instinctively fought back. He heard a grunt when his leg struck something hard, and another cry of pain when jammed his elbow back. But he soon lost count of the number of arms pushing him down, and his vision was only a mass of black shapes. He kicked blindly and waved his hands around, before a sharp slap and a kick forced the breath out of his lungs. He coughed violently, but as he tried to drag in more air, another foot met his ribs, and another, and another. Soon, he lost all attempts of fighting, only covering his face protectively and drawing himself into a small ball. There were so many hands hitting him that it felt like one uniform giant, trying to crush him from above.
"Enough!"
The hands were instantly gone. Gasping, Harry turned and tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but every movement jabbed his ribs and sent flashes down his back. He coughed, heart sinking when he tasted blood in his mouth.
He could feel rather than see Voldermort's smug smile as he approached. Harry groaned when his head throbbed with pain.
"Pity," he hissed close to his ear. "I guess this is the end, isn't it?"
Harry moaned again, as he tried to turn and face his enemy.
"No! Stop, st ---," the voice sank to angry sounds.
Harry realized, with a sinking heart, that Sirius had probably freed himself from Snape. Voldermort stood and turned from him. He's going to kill Sirius, Harry realized, stomach becoming ice. He's going to kill him to torture me.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry whispered hoarsely, pointing the barely intact wand at Voldermort's back. The force only seemed to knock him forward slightly, and brown eyes turned to face him with an amused smile.
"You actually thought that would work?" he asked, his voice young, but still with a tone of malice.
Harry fumed, glaring back at his eyes with the hatred that had been building for years. With a cry, he flung himself at Riddle, taking him by surprise, and knocking him to the floor. That action was beyond stupid, but the anger made him rash. For a brief moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to plunge his wand into Riddle's eye. But before he could even raise his arms, hands pulled him back. Riddle stood, nursing a broken lip, glaring at Harry with an frostbitten gaze.
"Bring Black," he shouted, not taking his eyes off Harry.
Harry screamed silently, desperately praying that Voldermort wouldn't kill him right away. Maybe Sirius already found the wand in his pocket. Please, please, please… let Sirius find the wand.
Sirius was hauled forward, although he seemed to be walking faster than the Death Eaters. Snape followed, a makeshift bandage on a bloody hand. Sirius probably bit him, Harry realized with dry humor. He must have tasted awful.
"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked quietly, watching him with concern.
Voldermort laughed, a much different laugh, but it still sent shivers down his spine. "It won't matter in a few minutes," Sirius' eyes instantly became hard and cold, and Harry could barely recognize him. "You're going to wish you left, Black."
Harry blinked in confusion, wondering what he was planning, but his heart sank when Riddle raised his wand.
"Imperio."
Instantly, Sirius slumped forward, eyes glazed and empty. He stood, staring at the floor for a few seconds, before he looked up. His movements were slow and jerky, like some poorly mastered puppeteer. He raised his hand, and for a moment, Harry wondered what Voldermort was making him do.
Slap!
Stunned, Harry couldn't even gasp. His cheek stung and burned. Instinctively, he brought his hand to touch it, staring at Sirius in disbelief.
Another blow sent him sprawling on the floor. Harry cried out in pain when his ribs were jostled. There was blood rushing in streams from his mouth; the second blow had jabbed his jaw into his tongue. Before he could even pull himself up, Sirius was on him again, twisting his arm back at an awkward angle.
"No!" Harry shouted, trying to turn his head. "Fight it, Sirius! I know you can. Don't listen to him!"
There was a sickening crack, and Harry screamed. It was like hot iron, pressed against his skin, and flames licking at his right arm. Tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Dimly, he noticed the odd twist of his arm above the elbow. Harry fell to the floor limply when Sirius finally let go, too tired and drained to move. For a moment, he thought Voldermort had released the curse, but that hope soon sank. A foot kicked him over, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He blinked back tears, wondering what Sirius was doing.
Warm hands closed like a clamp on his throat. Gasping, Harry's eyes shot open. He looked at the arms choking him in disbelief, and then at Sirius' glazed and deadened eyes. For a moment, they flickered, and then tears were running down his face.
He's too tired to fight it, Harry realized. But he must feel so guilty right now. Killing me would shatter him.
His vision was starting to swim, and Sirius' tear streaked face blurred. Harry could feel Sirius' hands trembling, but the clamp around his throat didn't loosen.
"It's not your fault," Harry wanted to say, but only a muffled cough came out.
Slowly, he reached up and to touch Sirius' face, but his entire body felt like lead. His hand was shaking violently, and he could barely see it in front of his eyes. He could feel his fingers touching moist skin, and grinned as reassuringly as he could.
It's not your fault, he repeated inside his head. I forgive you.
There was a strangled gasp, and the grip on his neck instantly slacked. Harry coughed weakly as air flooded back into his lungs, and the room slowly became brighter. Distantly, he could feel himself be picked up and enveloped in a warm embrace, and a sound of crying close to his ear.
"Oh god, Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," it whispered over and over again.
"It's not your fault," Harry managed to choke out between gasps.
The hold tightened, and Harry winced when an arm brushed the broken limb. Sirius immediately loosened his grip, nesting Harry's head under his chin. He avoided his eyes, afraid to accept the forgiveness that Harry seemed so willing to give.
"Interesting," said a cold voice behind him. "Looks like Black can break it too, although," Riddle grinned at Sirius as he turned to face him with a fiery glare. "Potter would have broken it seconds after it was put on him. Disappointing, to say the least."
Sirius' anger flattered for a moment as he turned back to look at his godson. Harry leaned against him limply, still gasping for air, his finger prints livid against his neck. Sirius swallowed, guilt flooding him and bringing tears back to his eyes. He had always wanted to protect him, but he was the one that nearly killed him! Even Harry was stronger than him. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, because he looked up quickly and squeezed his hand reassuringly. That seemed to double his guilt.
Suddenly, Harry convulsed and twisted in his gasp, a scream escaping from his lips. Sirius shouted out in alarm, trying to hold him still, when realization dawned on him. He spun around, noticing Voldermort's smug smile. The Cruicatus curse, Sirius realized.
"No!" he shouted angrily, holding Harry against him and trying to put him between the curse. "He can't take much more! He'll die."
Harry's screams stopped abruptly and he sank limply against Sirius again, gasping and coughing. Sirius noted in alarm the amount of blood on his face.
"Perhaps that was the idea," Voldermort sneered behind him. "Or maybe, you'll go first, Black?"
Harry grunted in protest, but was too tired to speak. Sirius nodded, looking at Riddle firmly. He couldn't let Harry die, but the chances of him surviving was already rather slim. His fault, all his fault! Sirius wiped some of the blood from Harry's face with the edge of his tattered robe.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in Harry's ear. And then hands were pulling him away again, leaving Harry lying motionlessly against the cold floor.
"Are you watching, Potter?" Voldermort asked, waiting for Harry to look up. Sirius was about to tell him not to, when a foot kicked his side and he cried out.
Harry's head snapped up in an instant, fear written on his face.
"Ava--"
Sirius' heart sank. This was the end.
"NO!"
*
Voldermort seems way too nice. Sirius seems a bit less aggressive than he usually would be, although, he was tortured for two weeks, so I guess he gets some slack. but... the characterizations aren't that great.
A cliffe, I'm evil aren't I? Actually, this chapter ended where everything was resolved, but at the resquest of my friend, I chopped it. But I shouldn't give her all the blame… *sigh* sorry, this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one. Review review review! I write faster that way.
Peacock girl - thanks!
Kat - yup, I love Sirius and Harry stories too. Their relationship could be developed really well.
Sami - I'm working on it!
Vmr - I thought so too, but Sirius is stubborn….
Abbisegail - happy birthday!
Gia - yup, Sirius is the type who will stick to Harry till the end. He probably wouldn't leave even under wand point. Humm…
Heaven - yup, I'm trying
Rita - thanks!
Tilly - I'm glad you like their characterization! I don't think anyone's inherently bad… hopefully, I don't disappoint you anytime soon.
Jj - thanks!
Lady foxfire - nope. Harry's a good little innocent boy.
Fire fairy - thanks! I hope you can't tell this one was cut off either… although…. It does end pretty abruptly… humm…
MercS - yup, here's the next chapter!