Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n ack, plot holes! While I was editing, I chopped out a scene on accident and that was why the marsh made no sense. There was an incident in which James was explaining he traveled every inch of the Land of the Dead, and there are only trees and a mountain. Harry asks about the marsh he first saw when he died, and James said there isn't one, and no one ever saw one. Harry, of course, is bewildered.
the author's note for the previous chapter was typed back in May, so... Playing Life has gone down the sever. *sigh* I'm so sorry!
once again, I apologize for the long delay! This chapter is unrevised, and was written back in May, so the style is very different. *sigh* Well, donnuo... it seems that no one minded before... but... ack! its style isn't... humm... *sigh* When I read it over, it just... lacks something. Like the overall story isn't... fulfilling. But it's either post draft of let die, so...
ack! I can't reply to any reviews! I'm so sorry!! I'll answer everything by the epilogues! I'm suppose to be doing an SAT practice exam right now in my room, but... *cackles evilly*
CoS chapter 8 is taking longer than usual since I'm sort of... grounded. I could post the chapter as 4 pages, or wait 2 days for it to complete to its usual 7. It's up to you!
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twenty-seven - cheating a father
"I can't believe this!" Lily choked out, burying her face in her hands. "All this time, it was Thomas! We never even suspected… he didn't tell us… he just took his hand…"
"It was his only chance, and Harry knew," James whispered softly, looking dazed. "He has grown up, hasn't he? He doesn't need us anymore."
"Why didn't he tell us?" Lily continued.
James shook his head, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I was there when he woke up… I knew something was wrong then, but…"
He stood up abruptly, and began to pace the room, trying to distract himself with the whitewashed walls. But even then, his hands shook, his face ghastly white.
Sirius was silent, eyes still fixed on the floor where Harry vanished in a gust of wind and mist. He could seem to forget those green eyes that Harry turned to him with before gripping the hand of Voldemort's father. They were almost pleading, he couldn't help but think those words of apology were for him. Harry seemed to feel an obligation for blaming himself for everything.
"Harry will be okay," Sirius choked out, despite the protest in his head. More than anything, he wanted to be there to help him, make sure that everything would be alright. "Harry's been through these things before."
James stopped pacing, staring at Sirius with an unreadable expression, but Lily looked pained.
"How can you say that?" she said angrily, wiping tears from her eyes. "Harry could be in pain right now! He could be tortured!"
At that, Sirius could feel the fragile walls crumbling away, an overwhelming rush of emotions flooding his mind. "I want to be there too! Every time Harry's in trouble, I always have to watch. I've never been able to do anything! Don't you think I want to be there? Don't you think I want to help him?" Sirius took a raspy breath, sinking into a chair and burying his face in his hands. Lily looked at him, stunned. "I've never been able to do anything for him," Sirius continued, his voice muffled and strained. "He died for me, and I've never done anything to deserve it!"
James glanced at Sirius sharply, unnerved by the darkness that haunted his friend's clear blue eyes.
"Harry forgives you," James finally said.
"Harry always forgave me," Sirius whispered bitterly. "He'd forgive anything! He would have forgiven me if I had strangled him to death!"
Lily took a shuddering gasp, at a loss for words on how to comfort her friend and unable to speak at the same time. James was still frozen in the middle of the living room, eyes fixed on Sirius' unmoving form. He drew a shaky breath, face setting in grim determination that mirrored his son's with frightening similarity. He pulled the hand away from Sirius' face, kneeing to meet his best friend's gaze.
"Sirius, I have another favor to ask of you."
Sirius glanced at his friend in surprise, "James , this is hardly the time…"
"No," James said firmly. "I've been thinking about this for days already. Will you?"
"Of course," Sirius still carried a look of perplexity, but he was determined to redeem himself for his past.
James nodded but looked more pensive than relieved. He pulled up a chair to face his friend. He seemed to be trying to put his thoughts into words, but the entire endeavor was taxing him. Finally, he drew a deep breath.
"Sirius, I want you to take my place."
The meaning of those words flew right over Sirius' head; for a long moment, he only stared.
"James, I don't think Lily will be too happy about that," he said, trying to decide whether it was a strange joke that James was trying to pull. How could he tease in such a situation?
James slapped the side of Sirius' head in exasperation, "Padfoot! Will you get your head out of the gutter for a moment? That wasn't what I meant," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Whatever he was trying to say seemed to be something he dreaded. "Take my place for Harry."
Stunned, Sirius could only stare at his friend.
"Can't have Lily though. Sorry Padfoot, she's mine," James continued, forcing a weak smile. Those words seemed to have taken a heavy burden from his shoulders, but the worry for his son left a dark shadow over his face.
But Sirius was still speechless. How much did it cost James, to voluntarily step away? How much self control did it take, for a father to let go of his son?
"James," Sirius choked out. "I can't."
James friend sighed; he had already expected him to protest.
"I've already taken so much from you," Sirius continued, looking pained. "I…"
"I will punch you if you say that again, okay?" James whispered, but his eyes betrayed his reluctance. "I know Harry means a lot to you. I know that you want nothing more than to be his father. You're just afraid of upsetting me."
"What if Harry loses?" Sirius said hoarsely. "What if he doesn't win and he has to die?
James sighed again, "You said yourself that Harry's strong. He won't lose. You're too important to him. He won't leave you behind."
Sirius watched his friend lean back in his chair, eyes dark with unspoken thoughts as he stared at the whitewashed ceiling.
How was that possible? Would Harry really abandon his family just because of his godfather?
"Sirius, admit it, you're afraid of losing Harry," James said, glaring at Sirius pointedly.
Sirius drew a sharp breath, hands trembling as he grasped the edges of his chair. "James, you have no idea… what it was like, to see him… running forward towards the curse. He looked so… desperate. Like he had lost. Like the entire world was crashing down over him. And then when it struck him…," Sirius broke off, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He rubbed his face angrily, breaking the gaze.
Beside him, James was silent. But from his uneven breathing, he was shaken as well. The knuckles were bloodless on his tightly clinched fist, and a tremor raked his body.
"You can't lose him, Padfoot," James whispered, his voice trembling as he laid a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder.
"I was the one who forced him into this situation to begin with," Sirius choked out. "If I hadn't…"
"Sirius, you know as well as I do that isn't true!" James said, a bit harsher than he intended. When Sirius didn't respond, he continued, his voice softer, "When Harry returns, he'll need a loving parent."
Sirius choked on a gasp, covering his face with his hands. He had always been worried about stealing Harry from his father, his best friend, no less! But with James offering such a sacrifice so willingly, it seemed to be more painful than ever. He moved to stand up, but James stopped him.
"Listen, Sirius, Harry considers you more of a father than me," James looked calm despite his words. His face was a carefully restrained mask.
"James, I'm sorry…," Sirius whispered hoarsely.
"No, don't be sorry. I couldn't be there. I can't be there," James said, the mistiness returning to his eyes. "Harry loves me because of what I represent to him. He hears all these stories, of how much he looks like his father. Of how much he acts like his father. But I never really knew my own son, Sirius."
"But I can't take your place!" Sirius shot back, head still downcast. "It'll be unfair."
"Sirius, I was never at my place! You were," James smiled sadly. "If Harry turns away from you because of me, then that'll be unfair."
Sirius stilled, face still hidden. James had voiced his deepest fear since he had arrived. But his friend had understood. Sirius couldn't suppress and a small sigh. All those days, he had been afraid of taking James place for Harry, it was what James had wanted all along.
Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but his resolve were becoming weaker. "James, I…"
"Sirius, you saw!" James interrupted, looking at his friend's downcast face intently. "When something happens, you're the first person Harry goes to. He doesn't know how I'll react. I'm not even sure I can understand if Harry comes to me with a problem. Sirius, admit it, you'll be a better father than me."
Sirius shook his head angrily. "I can't say that!"
"At least, try to be Harry's family, okay?" James' voice carried a pleading tone.
There was a long pause. Sirius finally nodded, a relieved sigh hidden in his hands. Now, there was only Harry.
Please, please, please be alright. Sirius silently pleaded. I can't lose you again.
*
Okay, in case you were wondering, yes, the last bit of the conversation was actually something I wrote for chapter 20, but I cropped it and ditched it in chapter 24 since I realized it was too early. I'm sorry, it really doesn't fit, and I don't really think they'd be talking about things like that with Harry's life hanging by a line. Especially since James seems amazingly calm for a father. But my only explanation is that James places far more trust in Harry than Sirius. He carried that trust throughout the entire story. Plus, he knows a spirit can't die, so he doesn't have that sort of dread. humm... but CD in general lacks the believeability that WS, PoM, and CoS has, even though the situation in CoS should be less believable. Ack. But CD was my first story... *sigh* guess this was a hit and miss sort of thing.
I was in a rush to get the story over with! I thought I dragged it out way too long, any longer and I'd be in danger of never finishing it. I don't care how it works out, if worse comes to worst, I'll rewrite it later. But right now, I'm itching to write the epilogue! *cackle* Sirius, Remus, and Harry, plus more explanations, plus Ron, Hermione, and Snape. I've been waiting forever to get to that! *dances*
Chapter twenty-eight - cheating defeat
Harry tugged at the muck swallowing his legs, but it felt like walking through thick sand. Every movement made his legs sink deeper; by the time the mud had pooled around his knees, Harry finally settled on staying still. He fished the wand out of his pocket.
"Lumos," he whispered, and lifted the light above his head.
The dim glow illuminated the marshland like an small cloud. All around him stretched a sea of darkness. It wasn't a marshland, it was a muddy ocean, Harry noted with a sinking heart.
"Behind you, boy," came a cold draw.
Harry spun around, swaying when his leg sank deeper. He twisted his neck awkwardly, unable to move the lower part of his body.
Riddle stood above the muck as if he was walking on solid around. The light threw dark shadows across his stern face, filling it with malice and mystery.
"What am I suppose to do with my legs stuck in this stuff?" Harry asked angrily. The imagine of Riddle standing straight while half his body was sunken irritated him.
Riddle sneered, bending down condescendingly to give Harry an amused stare. "Duel."
Harry couldn't contain his cry of shock, anger, and frustration. It was completely unjust. He was immobile, logged into some thick mud and barely able to see his enemy without turning, and Riddle expects him to duel?
"How am I suppose to know if I win?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You could be lying."
"I will disappear from your sight if you win," Riddle waved his hand carelessly. It was clear that he never expected it to happen.
But as the man drew out a gleaming stick from the folds of his cloak, Harry's mind reeled in confusion.
"Wait, you're a muggle!" Harry said, glanced up at the taller man. "How can you use a wand?"
Riddle's face twisted in anger. "The curse of being a shadow of the wielder falls on the first spirit the wand takes," he snarled, pulling up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a pale scar on the inside of his left wrist. It was a thin, barely noticeable brand of a snake, entwined in a circle engulfing its own tail. He held it as if it was the root of a disease. "I was forced to spend my time with the freaks like you, sharing their abnormalities, its disgusting."
Harry could feel rage boiling in his mind at those words. He sounded so much like the Dursleys, it made him more angry than ever. He could almost see Uncle Vernon's face sneering back at him through Riddle's. The frustration hidden through all those years of neglect at his relatives cracked.
Harry made an enraged snarl, gripping the edge of Riddle's robe and giving it a sharp tug. Caught by surprise, the man stumbled forward. The leverage freed Harry's legs, and he backed away quickly, trying to put some distance between them.
Riddle growled, barely catching himself before he fell face forward in the mud. He pointed his wand just as Harry dashed out of the way. There was a burst of red light and the sky was filled with a shower of thick black mud.
Harry could feel the brush of a hot iron just as the streak of light passed. He stared at Riddle in shock. No words or spell was spoken. How?
A sharp scalding heat on his hand drew him out of his reverie. Harry cried out, grasping his left arm as flames licked at it painfully.
Riddle didn't need to speak words for spells, Harry realized. There was no way for him to predict it.
"Stupefy!" he shouted, biting back a grimace of pain.
Riddle sidestepped the curse with ease. But something in his expression told him that Riddle wasn't even trying. He was playing with Harry the way a cat plays with a mouse before it swallows it whole.
Harry didn't wait for the next curse to come his way. He just ran, but it was hopeless. There was no shelter. There was no portkey. There was no gravestone. It was just him, all alone. Even a couple of Death Eaters would be comforting, at least those were easy targets.
A stream of light flew overhead, forcing Harry to duck to his knees. He spun around to meet Riddle's light brown eyes, shining with amusement. He had missed on purpose, Harry realized with a sinking heart. He was having fun!
That made the bubble of anger inflate even more. Harry threw a couple of hexes his way, silently thanking all those tutor sessions with Ron and Hermione before the Third Task. But his rage rapidly became horror when the spells struck empty space and deflected in wild directions. Just as Harry was about to shout the disarming curse, the balls of light froze and hovered before changing direction in the mid air. They all sprang towards him, even faster than before. Harry cried out, jumping aside to dodge. He managed to avoid most of them, but a stray ball of light the size of a marble struck him sharply at his side. There was a soft tingling when the world titled at a strange angle. Harry could feel his legs melting like rubber beneath him, snapping in odd angles. He stumbled to the ground, felled by his own jelly leg hex. Harry couldn't be more ashamed.
Harry twisted into a sitting position, stomach clenching painfully when he noticed Riddle quickly advancing. He barely finished the counter curse before the man had raised his wand again. Harry scrambled to his feet and missed the attack by a hair.
Harry hissed under his breath as he took advantage of the rain of muck to put some distance between him and the enemy. This was absolutely hopeless! What sort of spell reverses the opponent's hexes?
As far as he was concerned, Voldemort's father was far more frightening than Voldemort himself. The only advantage that he could see was that his scar wasn't splitting his head open with pain.
A sharp pain in his ankle made him stagger and fall. The force made his knees sink into the mud, but miraculously, his glasses remained secure on his face. He spun around, trying not to expose his back. One glance at Riddle's face told him he was enjoying himself immensely.
"You bastard…" Harry snarled, the anger in his voice surprising even himself.
Riddle didn't respond or didn't hear. He raised his wand almost carelessly, and instinctively, Harry shouted a shield charm.
The curse shattered his flimsy barrier with ease, but much of its power was lost. A sharp wind rushed into his face leaving a shallow cut on his cheek, but the rest of the curse was destroyed. Before Harry could raise another shield, an invisible hand rammed into him and sent him flying.
He landed on the soft ground soundlessly, ribs screaming with abuse. Harry bit back a cry of pain, all thoughts of resistance lost. Dimly, he noticed a burly figure approach, hand outstretched with a polished slab of wood clutched tightly in his fingers.
Another flick of his wrist sent Harry sprawling on the ground again, the force burying him partly in the soggy soil. Harry barely had time to react before his body burst with pain. Fire gored in his bones, needles ran in his blood, all his organs felt like they were trying to tear from his body. Screams echoed in his ears, and it took a while for him to realize they were his own. The mud was plastering to his skin, his legs were sinking in the soft earth, but Harry didn't notice. All he feel was the fire eating at his body and the overwhelming sense of helplessness and defeat.
"Something's not right."
Lily turned to him looking as if the world below her had been ripped away. James stiffened, the calm demeanor rapidly crumbling.
"How do you know?" James asked softly, voice strained.
Sirius frowned, shaking his head in confusion. He wasn't sure how he knew. It was just that growing unease that stirred in the back of his mind that bothered him to no end. Harry's in trouble, it kept whispering. He needs help. Help him!
Sirius shuddered, gripping his wand tighter. "I have to go to him."
James shook his head, turning his eyes away sadly. "Sirius, it's not going to work. Casting that charm a second time would probably kill you…"
"No, you don't understand!" Sirius hissed angrily, giving the dinner table a sharp kick. "I have this strange feeling. Like Harry's trying to tell me something… like…"
"Sirius, fretting around isn't going to help him at all!" James interrupted angrily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.
"We have to do something!" Sirius shot back.
"Like what?" James yelled. The fear of losing his son and the sense of helplessness was driving his patience to a breaking point. "Sirius, the only thing we could think of was the charm, and it doesn't work on spirits. You're going to die if you try it again, either that or get trapped at whatever place Harry is in now. Dying isn't going to solve anything!"
"I don't care! I…"
"Sirius, Harry will never leave if you die!"
"Will you two just calm down?" Lily interjected, looking just as frightened as the two men.
"Harry's in trouble and all you can…"
"Sirius!" Lily slapped her hand down on the table hard, "We are all worried for Harry. But getting killed would be condemning Harry hundreds of times over with the same guilt that plagued you!"
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Sirius paced the small room quickly, looking ready to burn a hole through the wood. He seemed determined to take the risk at all costs. James clicked his wand, fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth nervously. Lily suddenly gasped, eyes wide in shock.
"Sirius, your hands!" she said hoarsely.
Perplexed, Sirius glanced at his hands, lifting them to the light. James drew a sharp breath.
His hands were translucent. He could see the ceiling through them. His finger tips were fading, as if someone had taken an invisibility cloak and threw small bits and pieces over them. The clearness was spreading slowly until his hands were no longer visible, and half of his arm was missing.
"What's going on?" Sirius choked out. Strangely, the force left no pain, just a sense of numbness that spread in his veins. "I'm suppose to have three more days!"
"Sirius!" James grasped his shoulder desperately, afraid of losing his best friend again. But his hand slid right through his flesh.
Horrified, Sirius reached out to grab his hand, but he had no arms. He had no legs. He had no body. A muffled cry escaped his lips before the numbness overwhelmed him and darkness flooded his vision.
*
Is it hard to follow or anything?
a/n ack, plot holes! While I was editing, I chopped out a scene on accident and that was why the marsh made no sense. There was an incident in which James was explaining he traveled every inch of the Land of the Dead, and there are only trees and a mountain. Harry asks about the marsh he first saw when he died, and James said there isn't one, and no one ever saw one. Harry, of course, is bewildered.
the author's note for the previous chapter was typed back in May, so... Playing Life has gone down the sever. *sigh* I'm so sorry!
once again, I apologize for the long delay! This chapter is unrevised, and was written back in May, so the style is very different. *sigh* Well, donnuo... it seems that no one minded before... but... ack! its style isn't... humm... *sigh* When I read it over, it just... lacks something. Like the overall story isn't... fulfilling. But it's either post draft of let die, so...
ack! I can't reply to any reviews! I'm so sorry!! I'll answer everything by the epilogues! I'm suppose to be doing an SAT practice exam right now in my room, but... *cackles evilly*
CoS chapter 8 is taking longer than usual since I'm sort of... grounded. I could post the chapter as 4 pages, or wait 2 days for it to complete to its usual 7. It's up to you!
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twenty-seven - cheating a father
"I can't believe this!" Lily choked out, burying her face in her hands. "All this time, it was Thomas! We never even suspected… he didn't tell us… he just took his hand…"
"It was his only chance, and Harry knew," James whispered softly, looking dazed. "He has grown up, hasn't he? He doesn't need us anymore."
"Why didn't he tell us?" Lily continued.
James shook his head, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I was there when he woke up… I knew something was wrong then, but…"
He stood up abruptly, and began to pace the room, trying to distract himself with the whitewashed walls. But even then, his hands shook, his face ghastly white.
Sirius was silent, eyes still fixed on the floor where Harry vanished in a gust of wind and mist. He could seem to forget those green eyes that Harry turned to him with before gripping the hand of Voldemort's father. They were almost pleading, he couldn't help but think those words of apology were for him. Harry seemed to feel an obligation for blaming himself for everything.
"Harry will be okay," Sirius choked out, despite the protest in his head. More than anything, he wanted to be there to help him, make sure that everything would be alright. "Harry's been through these things before."
James stopped pacing, staring at Sirius with an unreadable expression, but Lily looked pained.
"How can you say that?" she said angrily, wiping tears from her eyes. "Harry could be in pain right now! He could be tortured!"
At that, Sirius could feel the fragile walls crumbling away, an overwhelming rush of emotions flooding his mind. "I want to be there too! Every time Harry's in trouble, I always have to watch. I've never been able to do anything! Don't you think I want to be there? Don't you think I want to help him?" Sirius took a raspy breath, sinking into a chair and burying his face in his hands. Lily looked at him, stunned. "I've never been able to do anything for him," Sirius continued, his voice muffled and strained. "He died for me, and I've never done anything to deserve it!"
James glanced at Sirius sharply, unnerved by the darkness that haunted his friend's clear blue eyes.
"Harry forgives you," James finally said.
"Harry always forgave me," Sirius whispered bitterly. "He'd forgive anything! He would have forgiven me if I had strangled him to death!"
Lily took a shuddering gasp, at a loss for words on how to comfort her friend and unable to speak at the same time. James was still frozen in the middle of the living room, eyes fixed on Sirius' unmoving form. He drew a shaky breath, face setting in grim determination that mirrored his son's with frightening similarity. He pulled the hand away from Sirius' face, kneeing to meet his best friend's gaze.
"Sirius, I have another favor to ask of you."
Sirius glanced at his friend in surprise, "James , this is hardly the time…"
"No," James said firmly. "I've been thinking about this for days already. Will you?"
"Of course," Sirius still carried a look of perplexity, but he was determined to redeem himself for his past.
James nodded but looked more pensive than relieved. He pulled up a chair to face his friend. He seemed to be trying to put his thoughts into words, but the entire endeavor was taxing him. Finally, he drew a deep breath.
"Sirius, I want you to take my place."
The meaning of those words flew right over Sirius' head; for a long moment, he only stared.
"James, I don't think Lily will be too happy about that," he said, trying to decide whether it was a strange joke that James was trying to pull. How could he tease in such a situation?
James slapped the side of Sirius' head in exasperation, "Padfoot! Will you get your head out of the gutter for a moment? That wasn't what I meant," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Whatever he was trying to say seemed to be something he dreaded. "Take my place for Harry."
Stunned, Sirius could only stare at his friend.
"Can't have Lily though. Sorry Padfoot, she's mine," James continued, forcing a weak smile. Those words seemed to have taken a heavy burden from his shoulders, but the worry for his son left a dark shadow over his face.
But Sirius was still speechless. How much did it cost James, to voluntarily step away? How much self control did it take, for a father to let go of his son?
"James," Sirius choked out. "I can't."
James friend sighed; he had already expected him to protest.
"I've already taken so much from you," Sirius continued, looking pained. "I…"
"I will punch you if you say that again, okay?" James whispered, but his eyes betrayed his reluctance. "I know Harry means a lot to you. I know that you want nothing more than to be his father. You're just afraid of upsetting me."
"What if Harry loses?" Sirius said hoarsely. "What if he doesn't win and he has to die?
James sighed again, "You said yourself that Harry's strong. He won't lose. You're too important to him. He won't leave you behind."
Sirius watched his friend lean back in his chair, eyes dark with unspoken thoughts as he stared at the whitewashed ceiling.
How was that possible? Would Harry really abandon his family just because of his godfather?
"Sirius, admit it, you're afraid of losing Harry," James said, glaring at Sirius pointedly.
Sirius drew a sharp breath, hands trembling as he grasped the edges of his chair. "James, you have no idea… what it was like, to see him… running forward towards the curse. He looked so… desperate. Like he had lost. Like the entire world was crashing down over him. And then when it struck him…," Sirius broke off, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He rubbed his face angrily, breaking the gaze.
Beside him, James was silent. But from his uneven breathing, he was shaken as well. The knuckles were bloodless on his tightly clinched fist, and a tremor raked his body.
"You can't lose him, Padfoot," James whispered, his voice trembling as he laid a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder.
"I was the one who forced him into this situation to begin with," Sirius choked out. "If I hadn't…"
"Sirius, you know as well as I do that isn't true!" James said, a bit harsher than he intended. When Sirius didn't respond, he continued, his voice softer, "When Harry returns, he'll need a loving parent."
Sirius choked on a gasp, covering his face with his hands. He had always been worried about stealing Harry from his father, his best friend, no less! But with James offering such a sacrifice so willingly, it seemed to be more painful than ever. He moved to stand up, but James stopped him.
"Listen, Sirius, Harry considers you more of a father than me," James looked calm despite his words. His face was a carefully restrained mask.
"James, I'm sorry…," Sirius whispered hoarsely.
"No, don't be sorry. I couldn't be there. I can't be there," James said, the mistiness returning to his eyes. "Harry loves me because of what I represent to him. He hears all these stories, of how much he looks like his father. Of how much he acts like his father. But I never really knew my own son, Sirius."
"But I can't take your place!" Sirius shot back, head still downcast. "It'll be unfair."
"Sirius, I was never at my place! You were," James smiled sadly. "If Harry turns away from you because of me, then that'll be unfair."
Sirius stilled, face still hidden. James had voiced his deepest fear since he had arrived. But his friend had understood. Sirius couldn't suppress and a small sigh. All those days, he had been afraid of taking James place for Harry, it was what James had wanted all along.
Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but his resolve were becoming weaker. "James, I…"
"Sirius, you saw!" James interrupted, looking at his friend's downcast face intently. "When something happens, you're the first person Harry goes to. He doesn't know how I'll react. I'm not even sure I can understand if Harry comes to me with a problem. Sirius, admit it, you'll be a better father than me."
Sirius shook his head angrily. "I can't say that!"
"At least, try to be Harry's family, okay?" James' voice carried a pleading tone.
There was a long pause. Sirius finally nodded, a relieved sigh hidden in his hands. Now, there was only Harry.
Please, please, please be alright. Sirius silently pleaded. I can't lose you again.
*
Okay, in case you were wondering, yes, the last bit of the conversation was actually something I wrote for chapter 20, but I cropped it and ditched it in chapter 24 since I realized it was too early. I'm sorry, it really doesn't fit, and I don't really think they'd be talking about things like that with Harry's life hanging by a line. Especially since James seems amazingly calm for a father. But my only explanation is that James places far more trust in Harry than Sirius. He carried that trust throughout the entire story. Plus, he knows a spirit can't die, so he doesn't have that sort of dread. humm... but CD in general lacks the believeability that WS, PoM, and CoS has, even though the situation in CoS should be less believable. Ack. But CD was my first story... *sigh* guess this was a hit and miss sort of thing.
I was in a rush to get the story over with! I thought I dragged it out way too long, any longer and I'd be in danger of never finishing it. I don't care how it works out, if worse comes to worst, I'll rewrite it later. But right now, I'm itching to write the epilogue! *cackle* Sirius, Remus, and Harry, plus more explanations, plus Ron, Hermione, and Snape. I've been waiting forever to get to that! *dances*
Chapter twenty-eight - cheating defeat
Harry tugged at the muck swallowing his legs, but it felt like walking through thick sand. Every movement made his legs sink deeper; by the time the mud had pooled around his knees, Harry finally settled on staying still. He fished the wand out of his pocket.
"Lumos," he whispered, and lifted the light above his head.
The dim glow illuminated the marshland like an small cloud. All around him stretched a sea of darkness. It wasn't a marshland, it was a muddy ocean, Harry noted with a sinking heart.
"Behind you, boy," came a cold draw.
Harry spun around, swaying when his leg sank deeper. He twisted his neck awkwardly, unable to move the lower part of his body.
Riddle stood above the muck as if he was walking on solid around. The light threw dark shadows across his stern face, filling it with malice and mystery.
"What am I suppose to do with my legs stuck in this stuff?" Harry asked angrily. The imagine of Riddle standing straight while half his body was sunken irritated him.
Riddle sneered, bending down condescendingly to give Harry an amused stare. "Duel."
Harry couldn't contain his cry of shock, anger, and frustration. It was completely unjust. He was immobile, logged into some thick mud and barely able to see his enemy without turning, and Riddle expects him to duel?
"How am I suppose to know if I win?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You could be lying."
"I will disappear from your sight if you win," Riddle waved his hand carelessly. It was clear that he never expected it to happen.
But as the man drew out a gleaming stick from the folds of his cloak, Harry's mind reeled in confusion.
"Wait, you're a muggle!" Harry said, glanced up at the taller man. "How can you use a wand?"
Riddle's face twisted in anger. "The curse of being a shadow of the wielder falls on the first spirit the wand takes," he snarled, pulling up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a pale scar on the inside of his left wrist. It was a thin, barely noticeable brand of a snake, entwined in a circle engulfing its own tail. He held it as if it was the root of a disease. "I was forced to spend my time with the freaks like you, sharing their abnormalities, its disgusting."
Harry could feel rage boiling in his mind at those words. He sounded so much like the Dursleys, it made him more angry than ever. He could almost see Uncle Vernon's face sneering back at him through Riddle's. The frustration hidden through all those years of neglect at his relatives cracked.
Harry made an enraged snarl, gripping the edge of Riddle's robe and giving it a sharp tug. Caught by surprise, the man stumbled forward. The leverage freed Harry's legs, and he backed away quickly, trying to put some distance between them.
Riddle growled, barely catching himself before he fell face forward in the mud. He pointed his wand just as Harry dashed out of the way. There was a burst of red light and the sky was filled with a shower of thick black mud.
Harry could feel the brush of a hot iron just as the streak of light passed. He stared at Riddle in shock. No words or spell was spoken. How?
A sharp scalding heat on his hand drew him out of his reverie. Harry cried out, grasping his left arm as flames licked at it painfully.
Riddle didn't need to speak words for spells, Harry realized. There was no way for him to predict it.
"Stupefy!" he shouted, biting back a grimace of pain.
Riddle sidestepped the curse with ease. But something in his expression told him that Riddle wasn't even trying. He was playing with Harry the way a cat plays with a mouse before it swallows it whole.
Harry didn't wait for the next curse to come his way. He just ran, but it was hopeless. There was no shelter. There was no portkey. There was no gravestone. It was just him, all alone. Even a couple of Death Eaters would be comforting, at least those were easy targets.
A stream of light flew overhead, forcing Harry to duck to his knees. He spun around to meet Riddle's light brown eyes, shining with amusement. He had missed on purpose, Harry realized with a sinking heart. He was having fun!
That made the bubble of anger inflate even more. Harry threw a couple of hexes his way, silently thanking all those tutor sessions with Ron and Hermione before the Third Task. But his rage rapidly became horror when the spells struck empty space and deflected in wild directions. Just as Harry was about to shout the disarming curse, the balls of light froze and hovered before changing direction in the mid air. They all sprang towards him, even faster than before. Harry cried out, jumping aside to dodge. He managed to avoid most of them, but a stray ball of light the size of a marble struck him sharply at his side. There was a soft tingling when the world titled at a strange angle. Harry could feel his legs melting like rubber beneath him, snapping in odd angles. He stumbled to the ground, felled by his own jelly leg hex. Harry couldn't be more ashamed.
Harry twisted into a sitting position, stomach clenching painfully when he noticed Riddle quickly advancing. He barely finished the counter curse before the man had raised his wand again. Harry scrambled to his feet and missed the attack by a hair.
Harry hissed under his breath as he took advantage of the rain of muck to put some distance between him and the enemy. This was absolutely hopeless! What sort of spell reverses the opponent's hexes?
As far as he was concerned, Voldemort's father was far more frightening than Voldemort himself. The only advantage that he could see was that his scar wasn't splitting his head open with pain.
A sharp pain in his ankle made him stagger and fall. The force made his knees sink into the mud, but miraculously, his glasses remained secure on his face. He spun around, trying not to expose his back. One glance at Riddle's face told him he was enjoying himself immensely.
"You bastard…" Harry snarled, the anger in his voice surprising even himself.
Riddle didn't respond or didn't hear. He raised his wand almost carelessly, and instinctively, Harry shouted a shield charm.
The curse shattered his flimsy barrier with ease, but much of its power was lost. A sharp wind rushed into his face leaving a shallow cut on his cheek, but the rest of the curse was destroyed. Before Harry could raise another shield, an invisible hand rammed into him and sent him flying.
He landed on the soft ground soundlessly, ribs screaming with abuse. Harry bit back a cry of pain, all thoughts of resistance lost. Dimly, he noticed a burly figure approach, hand outstretched with a polished slab of wood clutched tightly in his fingers.
Another flick of his wrist sent Harry sprawling on the ground again, the force burying him partly in the soggy soil. Harry barely had time to react before his body burst with pain. Fire gored in his bones, needles ran in his blood, all his organs felt like they were trying to tear from his body. Screams echoed in his ears, and it took a while for him to realize they were his own. The mud was plastering to his skin, his legs were sinking in the soft earth, but Harry didn't notice. All he feel was the fire eating at his body and the overwhelming sense of helplessness and defeat.
"Something's not right."
Lily turned to him looking as if the world below her had been ripped away. James stiffened, the calm demeanor rapidly crumbling.
"How do you know?" James asked softly, voice strained.
Sirius frowned, shaking his head in confusion. He wasn't sure how he knew. It was just that growing unease that stirred in the back of his mind that bothered him to no end. Harry's in trouble, it kept whispering. He needs help. Help him!
Sirius shuddered, gripping his wand tighter. "I have to go to him."
James shook his head, turning his eyes away sadly. "Sirius, it's not going to work. Casting that charm a second time would probably kill you…"
"No, you don't understand!" Sirius hissed angrily, giving the dinner table a sharp kick. "I have this strange feeling. Like Harry's trying to tell me something… like…"
"Sirius, fretting around isn't going to help him at all!" James interrupted angrily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.
"We have to do something!" Sirius shot back.
"Like what?" James yelled. The fear of losing his son and the sense of helplessness was driving his patience to a breaking point. "Sirius, the only thing we could think of was the charm, and it doesn't work on spirits. You're going to die if you try it again, either that or get trapped at whatever place Harry is in now. Dying isn't going to solve anything!"
"I don't care! I…"
"Sirius, Harry will never leave if you die!"
"Will you two just calm down?" Lily interjected, looking just as frightened as the two men.
"Harry's in trouble and all you can…"
"Sirius!" Lily slapped her hand down on the table hard, "We are all worried for Harry. But getting killed would be condemning Harry hundreds of times over with the same guilt that plagued you!"
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Sirius paced the small room quickly, looking ready to burn a hole through the wood. He seemed determined to take the risk at all costs. James clicked his wand, fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth nervously. Lily suddenly gasped, eyes wide in shock.
"Sirius, your hands!" she said hoarsely.
Perplexed, Sirius glanced at his hands, lifting them to the light. James drew a sharp breath.
His hands were translucent. He could see the ceiling through them. His finger tips were fading, as if someone had taken an invisibility cloak and threw small bits and pieces over them. The clearness was spreading slowly until his hands were no longer visible, and half of his arm was missing.
"What's going on?" Sirius choked out. Strangely, the force left no pain, just a sense of numbness that spread in his veins. "I'm suppose to have three more days!"
"Sirius!" James grasped his shoulder desperately, afraid of losing his best friend again. But his hand slid right through his flesh.
Horrified, Sirius reached out to grab his hand, but he had no arms. He had no legs. He had no body. A muffled cry escaped his lips before the numbness overwhelmed him and darkness flooded his vision.
*
Is it hard to follow or anything?